#if you want me to dial it back and explain any of this in a calmer tone please ask i will be happy to do so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fire0nfire · 1 day

Text

king of my heart | pt. 2

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader | pato o'ward x fem!reader

warnings: love triangle? kinda.

author's note: go get some popcorn cause we have some drama here🍿... and it's a long part, so enjoy!!

part 1 | part 2

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yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, isahernaez, frosenqvist, and 79,121 others!

yourusername Miami GP over and out ✅🏁 No words could ever explain just how grateful I am for all of you and for the opportunity that I get to cover this amazing sport with such incredible people by my side. Thank you for everything Miami, I hope to see you again soon! 🌴💖

user1 the power she holds 🙌

user2 she's really living my dream 🥹

lissiemackintosh so happy to be able to share this with you!! love u❤️

yourusername we really need to do this more often😘 love u too! user3 y/n and lissie hosting track tv together is my new roman empire fr user4 SLAY QUEENS!! user5 the queens are thriving user6 i wanna be friends with them so bad 😫

user7 omg girl you're STUNNING

user8 BEST F1 WAG

user9 facts facts facts user10 she's not even a wag lol it's so obvious lando just keeps this nobody around for when he's bored and horny user11 user10 this "nobody" has done SO much in terms of women representation in motorsport, she's hardworking and a lovely woman. meanwhile, you're just a sad little person who's jealous of her because she's successful and close to your crush, who doesn't even know who you are. so get a life and stop embarrassing yourself. user12 user11 SAY IT LOUDER 👏 user13 user11 PREACH!!!

user14 i don't know if i wanna be her or be with her😩

user15 this is such a mood tbh

landonorris so proud of you, boo😍

yourusername 🥰🧡 user16 YNLANDO NATION WE WON user17 we love a supporting boyfriend 🤩 user18 i want what they have, your honor user19 is this considered a soft launch or what? user20 y'all are delulu😂 it's so obvious they're just friends user21 user20 girl being delulu is the solulu 🙌

user22 so when are we gonna talk about felix liking the post?

user23 i'm lost sorry, who's felix? user24 user23 he's pato's teammate in indycar and one of his besties user25 if felix liked then WHERE'S PATO user26 user25 doing more important things than being focused on this girl.

lilymhe such a pretty girl 💗

alex_albon should i be jealous? yourusername you should indeed. can u fight? user24 the friendship i didn't know i needed 🥹 user25 MY FAV WAGS INTERACTING YAY

user26 f1 is so lucky to have you!!!

user27 LOOOL why would they be lucky to have her?😂😂😂 she's nothing special user28 user27 and yet she's still rising 💅 user29 user27 then why are you even on her post? lol obsessed much?

user30 my role model ❤️‍🩹

📞 incoming call

[y/n; normal] [pato; cursive]

"...Hello? Did you butt-dialed me or something?"

"Uhm, hi. It's not a butt-dial. I-I actually just wanted to talk to you. Hear your voice, y'know. I've been kinda missing you."

"Oh really? And here I was thinking that your cold behavior toward me over the past three weeks meant that you didn't want anything to do with me. Silly me, I guess."

"I-I'm... [sighs]. That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. About the way I've been treating you. I'm sorry, y/n. I really am sorry. I know I've been a total jerk-"

"Yeah, you can put it that way."

"...I've been a total jerk and I regret it very much. You didn't deserve it at all. I just- I'm not trying to excuse my awful behavior but I just think I got- Uhm..."

"You got what?"

"Well... I saw Lando's instagram story when you went back to Monaco, as you've probably already figured it out. And I think- Well... I got jealous. And I know it probably sounds stupid now but at the time it felt like a punch in the face."

"Pato..."

"I know I didn't and still have absolutely no business to be jealous about you and Lando, cause you and I are not dating or anything and you don't owe me any kind of explanation about the type of relationship you have with him. But after the great time we spend together in Long Beach... I don't know, it just hurted seeing you with him. But that doesn't excuse anything and I just regret so much the way I've been treating you since then, it hasn't been fair to you at all."

"And it didn't cross your mind that we could have had this conversation way before now? I mean, you waited three weeks to finally talk to me like a decent human being, how-"

"I know and I'm so-"

"Let me finish."

"Sorry, go on."

"However, I do appreciate that you're finally acknowledging all of this and communicating with me like an actual adult. I know it's not always easy to do. And although I don't owe you any kind of explanation, I just want you to know that there's nothing going on between Lando and me."

"So you and him...?"

"We're friends and that's it. We care for each other but there's nothing going on."

"Oh... well, thanks for clarifying that for me."

"Yeah, yeah. You'll have to work harder for my forgiveness, anyway. I appreciate the call but it won't be that easy for you."

"Is that so?"

"You've heard me."

"In that case, what would you say if I invite you for a few days to come here to Punta Mita? Maybe that'll help me a little to earn your forgiveness."

"... I'm sorry, what!?"

"You've heard me."

"You're joking. You have to be joking."

"I'm not joking. You're still in Miami, right?"

"I am..."

"Great! My brother in law is in Miami too and he'll take the jet tomorrow morning. If you want to, you can join him and come here with him! We'd be thrilled to have you here too."

"Oh my God... Pato, I don't know what to say!"

"Say yes and you'd make this birthday boy the happiest man in the world. You'd even make my sister happy, I've been telling her a lot about you and now she's eager to meet you."

"I hope you've been telling her good things about me, then."

"Only the best. She's even on your side, y'know. Said I was being a giant cabrón and needed to make things right. She wasn't wrong tho."

"[giggles] Fine. I'll go, but I'm only doing this for your sister."

"I'll take that anyway! I'll let Brett know you'll join him and I'll send you the details, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Now go and pack your bags for tomorrow."

"Hey! Don't get bosy with me, mister!"

"[Laughs] Fine. Take care, I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you, birthday boy!"

patriciooward posted to his story!

[caption 1; 🦈] [caption 2; beautiful views]

yourusername posted to their story!

[caption 1; para-para-paradise 🌞] [caption 2; in his sharkboy era] [caption 3; 🐶❤️]

paddockgossips

liked by magui_corceiro and 84,091 others!

paddockgossips Among the alleged "breakup" between y/n and Lando, the McLaren driver was photographed last night having fun in a Monaco club in the company of Max Fewtrell and other friends. Some sources have said that Lando seemed very cozy with a blonde woman at the party, whom he later left with. However, we cannot verify this information in any way, so it remains a rumor.

user1 I HAVE A CHANCE AGAIN (i'm delulu)

user2 so this confirms ynlando is over?? 😭

user3 girl i'm devastated 😭😭😭 user4 i'm still in denial user5 well they were never together to begin with user6 user5 THIS!! people act like they were a couple when they NEVER confirmed anything 😂

user7 "blonde woman at the party" "it remains a rumor" and magui goes and like the post LOL

user8 she's so desperate for attention🙄 user9 who's magui??? user10 user9 she's kika's friend and she was dating football player João Félix not so long ago (in fact, i thought they were still together lol) user11 user10 and don't forget she's a cheater. user12 user9 she's trouble

user13 yn >>>>>>>> magui

user14 user13 no need to compare them

user15 sorry but single lando it's so hot 🥵

user16 SO TRUE user17 FACTS he looks so good omfg

user18 in his heartbreaker era 😎

user19 in his reputation era 😎 user20 in his idgaf era 😎

user21 i'm a child of divorce fr

user22 i know y'all love y/n for some reason but i'm SO glad lando finally got away from her.

user23 SAME. and if magui makes him happy then great for him user24 stfu i'm mourning here

user25 y/n this magui that but max was, is and will forever be lando's true wag💅

user26 the one and only indeed

elbaoward posted to her story!

[caption1; off to dinner] [caption2; my love🤍] [caption 3; lovebirds!]

patriciooward

liked by landonorris, yourusername, brettkimbro, and 86,382 others!

patriciooward BDAY WKND DUMP 📸 thank y'all for all the love❤️‍🔥

user1 THE HARD LAUNCH IT'S HARD LAUNCHING

user2 OMG IT'S HAPPENING EVERYBODY STAY CAAAAALM

user3 he really said i'll give you what you want: thrist traps and y/n... and he's so real for that

user4 he really knows his audience user5 king behavior if u ask me user6 everybody say thank you Pato 🙏

user7 YNPATO NATION HOW ARE WE FEELING??

user8 I'M STILL SPEECHLESS user9 they're so perfect i wanna cry😭 user10 LOVE TO SEE🔥

user11 as a ynlando shipper i have to admit they're cute but ngl this still hurts 😩

user12 MOOD user13 ynlando will always be in our hearts 🥺 user14 ynlando >>>>>>>>>> ynpato user15 user13 girl grow up.

user16 THAT SHOULD BE ME

elbaoward where are my credits for the last pic? cuties🤍

user17 u literally gave us the cutest pic ever user18 elba thank you so much for your service🫡 user19 elba is ynpato's #1 fan and you can't tell me otherwise user20 elba is just like us fr user21 LOVE YOU ELBAAAAA 🩷

user22 MOM AND DAD

user23 can't believe how fast she moved on and got together with this dude lol lando really dodged a bullet with her

user24 how fast she moved on?? girl y/n and lando were never even together so stfu user25 ???? why are you even on pato's ig post? go away user26 user23 y/n is such an attention seeker and yet everyone loves her, i'll never understand it 🥱

user27 not to be that person but i would KILL to be that piñata😏

user28 MOOD

frosenqvist oh to be tanned, young and in love

patriciooward 😜 user29 IN LOVE??? FELIX BESTIE TELL US MORE user30 i don't know about y'all but this is all the confirmation i need about ynpato being real, bye user31 i think i can hear the wedding bells user32 user31 yesss and felix as pato's best man

user33 bestie don't be shy and drop more y/n pics 🫶

user34 i second the motion !!!

user35 NOT LANDO LIKING THE POST LOOOOL

user36 he is so unserious i love him user37 ICONIC BEHAVIOR TBH user38 yeah but i just know he's crying inside user39 user38 for what? lol lando knows he's so much better than this cheaper version of him. user40 user39 i'm so done with people like you who insult pato just because you cannot defend lando with good arguments.

yourusername magical weekend 💖

patriciooward with you there? always user41 STOP THEY'RE SO CUTE OMG user42 this is such an upgrade tbh user43 SO HAPPY FOR THEM 🥹 user44 what a bitch.

yourusername posted to their story!

[caption 1; back to reality✈️] [caption 2; I'm a high performance athlete. Athletes sweat. Sweat, baby] [caption 3; cutest model🧡]

paddockgossips

liked by magui_corceiro and 53,237 other people!

paddockgossips NEW WAG ALERT? 🚨 Magui Corceiro, the Portuguese model and actress, attended the Monaco GP after being seen a few days ago having lunch with Lando. It has been rumored that they could be in a relationship, especially since Lando and y/n apparently went different ways, and Corceiro's presence in the paddock has not gone unnoticed by anyone. Still, neither Lando nor Magui have confirmed or denied these rumors.

user1 A TRIGGER WARNING WOULD BE NICE NEXT TIME

user2 um let's hope there isn't a next time user3 user2 let's pray girl, let's pray 🙏

user4 "neither lando nor magui have confirmed or denied these rumors" well that's bs cause she just liked the post

user5 istg she's trying so hard to get attention user6 lando was asked about magui and he said she was just a friend... and then she goes and does this lol what a clout chaser user7 and people used to say that y/n was after lando's fame and yet she NEVER did anything like this user8 she's such a pick me girl

user9 everything i know of this girl has been against my will istg

user10 SAME

user11 oh good luck lando

user12 oh be prepared for the y/n fans and little girls that'll come attack magui when she hasn't even done anything wrong

user13 literally they're just mad at magui cause she's dating their fav driver loool user14 they're only jealous cause magui is a gorgeous woman user15 user14 she's gorgeous but she's still a snake

user16 i'd ask why lando would be with someone like her, but then i remember he's an adult and if he wants someone like her by his side then that's up to him. let's not treat him like a baby please

user17 say👏 it👏 louder👏

user18 weeeeell if this is the kind of people lando likes to have around then i guess y/n really dodged a bullet with him

user19 FACTS user20 i mean at the end of the day he's just another privileged white boy, so🤷‍♀️ user21 i really don't get all the hate that she's getting, is she really that problematic? user22 user21 girl google it yourself but yeah, she is

user23 I MISS MY GIRL Y/N WHERE IS SHEEEEEEEE??

user24 what is she even doing there?

user25 must be cause lando wanted her to be there user26 why y'all never asked the same thing about y/n? y'all are such hypocrites istg user27 user26 cause y/n was actually doing her job????? user28 user26 oh you're stupid 😂😂

user29 magui in the paddock, pato not being able to finish Indy 500... it really is a shitty day huh

user30 DON'T EVEN REMIND ME WHAT HAPPENED WITH PATO OMFG user31 I'M STILL SO MAD ABOUT PATO user32 the only good part is that y/n and his family were there for him ❤️‍🩹

see y'all in part 3!

taglist: @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @evie-119 @evans-dejong @minkyungseokie @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bernelflo @eiaaasamantha @ijustgomessitupx @honethatty12 @daemyratwst @f1fan65

(if you'd like to be tagged in the next part, just let me know in the comments!🧡)

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a-dragons-journal · 10 months

Text

Forgive me for showing my fangs a little here instead of being as delicate in phrasing as I usually am, but. Periodic reminder:

sweeping "humans suck, humans are evil, the world would be better off if humans disappeared/had never evolved" statements may be cathartic but they're thoroughly inaccurate (ie, the vast majority of uniquely bad effects of humans on the planet are a) extremely recent, like within the last couple centuries, b) the fault of an extremely small minority not the entire fucking species, and c) fixable)

hating being human isn't the same as hating humans. I get species dysphoria is a thing. I get that it's often hard to fit in as a nonhuman in human social groups and that can make it easy to slip into hating everyone around you. Please fight that instinct

villainizing people for traits they didn't choose, such as the species they were born into, is neither cute nor fair. No species is inherently good or bad

misanthropy is cathartic in short term vents or whatever but genuinely embracing it wholesale as a philosophy is liable to lead to you hating humans, human society, and being in a human body more and more over time and thus make your life worse by constantly reinforcing a thought pattern that makes you angry and upset

you are not immune to being part of human society (translation: just because you're nonhuman doesn't mean you're not included in statements about the effects of the human population on the world, ie "humans are killing the planet")

related, you are not better than humans for being nonhuman. looking at my fellow dragons in particular on this one. I get it, draconic pride is a thing, dragon brain probably says you're the supreme being and all else is beneath you especially anyone who annoys you. Mine does too. Please recognize that is an instinct you are supposed to FIGHT, not something that's TRUE AND THAT YOU SHOULD EMBRACE. Good fucking gods.

some nonhumans are also human (it's me, I'm some nonhumans) and you are making sweeping "humans suck, why would I ever want to be human, all humans do is kill the planet" statements in the presence of people included in those statements, which is insanely rude (and no, you don't get to "but you're different because you're nonhuman" me! you do not get to decide to ignore half of who I am because you don't like it, you do not get to decide I'm not "really" human, and also see the previous bullet point). this goes doubly if you're in a space like a DIscord server where people have expressly stated they're not comfortable being tacitly included in statements like that

saying "but I don't REALLY mean all humans, I just mean the specific ones at fault!" after the fact does not actually change anything if every other thing you say is constantly "humans humans humans" and not the group you're actually referring to, or at the very least doesn't change how it reads to everyone around you

#otherkin #misanthropy #rani talks #rani is biting today sorry #if you want me to dial it back and explain any of this in a calmer tone please ask i will be happy to do so #i'm just. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #sick and fucking tired of seeing 'humans bad' in the otherkin community on a regular basis. ITS ME. IM HUMANS. STOP IT #it's not a constructive mindset!! it's not!! there's no constructive conclusion that can come out of misanthropy as a core philosophy!#all it can lead to is either 'nothing is fixable' which is a recipe for depression #or 'humans should be exterminated' which is GENOCIDAL #and it's fucking ALWAYS accompanied by 'but i'm better because i'm [x] instead har har har' No The Fuck You Are Not #you participate in society exactly the same way a human would #you are exactly as responsible for the effects of humanity on the world as anyone else around you #which is to say not very fucking much!#anyway /tag rant i'm hitting post before i think better of this one

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nexusnyx · 1 year

Text

miss sunshine

pre-outbreak Joel Miller x neighbor!reader [7.3k] summary: He's always been out of reach. A fantasy. Joel was too much of everything—too handsome, too friendly, too una-fucking-vailable for any of you. Too bad his kid adores you. (What a blessing.) Too bad she uses you as a scapegoat and lands him right on his door. One bottle of wine, and Joel shows you he might be closer than you thought. 📝 I wanted to try something different. Less hurt, less end-of-the-world bullshit. Let me know your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. ⚠️Smut. Minors, DNI. Explicit depictions of sex, oral (f and m receiving), riding, missionary, passionate neighbors sex, yay.

read on ao3 | masterlist

ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Summer of 2002.

When the bell rings, you think it's best to ignore it.

Living alone equals a lot of privileges, but the ability to go out alone and answer the door on a random Wednesday evening was not one of them. You're wearing compromising clothes and a robe, the bottle of wine you craved was finally open, and the last thing you wanted was to be murdered before enjoying it.

Then, you hear it. Your name, followed by, "It's Miller. Joel."

Fuck.

Well—this is exactly how many of your dreams started. Although this wouldn't go like them, for him, you'd open the door.

His eyes do little to hide the once-over when the door slides open.

They go down, then back up, and he seems to catch on to the fact that you saw it. Then, he shakes his head just a little, and says, "Is Sarah here?"

Well, well, well. You lean against the door. "Did she say she was?"

Joel pierces you with his Dad Look. "Yes." Obviously, it goes without saying.

What other reason would he have, right? Clearing your throat, you feel the anxiety bubbling underneath the surface. "Uhm. She isn't," you look apologetic as you say it. As if it's your fault his prepubescent daughter uses you as a scapegoat.

His sigh is enough to make you feel how tired he is. Overworked. Exhausted.

You try to understand what might've happened before he loses his mind, "What time d'you usually come back from work? Maybe she's at a friend's. She probably thought you'd be back later than this."

He finishes rubbing both palms all over his face, and he threads one hand through his hair. "I'm usually back at nine—well, I'm supposed to be back at nine. I'm usually home by ten." That checks out, then. "But—that doesn't explain why she lied to me."

"Any special occasions coming up soon?"

Joel frowns. "Uhm. My birthday's in a few days, but—"

"Ahhhh." It shuts his mouth, the way you exclaim it so clearly. "She's brainstorming, Joel."

"Brainstorming...?"

"A gift." No daughter had easy access to what made their fathers happy. You take pity on him. "C'mon—let me scare the little one."

You walk inside without waiting for his reply, knowing Joel will make his way in. "What d'you mean, scare her?"

The noise of his boots hitting the floor makes you happy.

You take the phone out of the wall and look at him. "She always keeps that cellular phone with her when she goes out?"

"Always," he nods.

"Perfect." You know it by heart already. As you dial, you feel Joel's eyes on your house. It's the first he's ever been inside, and it makes you hyperaware of every movement of his. "It's ringing," you inform him with a grin forming.

He looks confused. More tired than anything else, but it'll make sense in a second.

"Hey, miss Sunshine!" the nickname she gave you always brings a smile to your face.

Time to put on a show. Feigning panic in your voice, you yell-whisper on the phone, "S, love, would you mind telling me why on Earth is your pops—" you fake cover your end of the line to yell, "one minute!" then you're back at whispering again, "why is he parked outside my house right now? Is there something I should know?"

"Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit—"

You're glad he can't hear her end of it. "No time for panic. Explain."

"I am so sorry, Sunny! I thought he'd be back in like, two hours or something. Oh, god, can you please cover for me? I wrote a note saying I was at your place. Sleeping there. I was gonna call you before he came back home but Jenny and I—"

"You're at somebody named Jenny?" you repeat the information, looking at Joel with a question in your eyes, and when he nods, your heart soothes at knowing she's safe. "And you didn't think to mention your brilliant idea earlier?" going for the full effect again, you yell out, "One minute, Joel!"

At least she's fast in her rambles. "Yeah, yeah. My best friend. She's trying to help me come up with a surprise for him. I'm not there often and it's never on his birthday. I wanna make it special."

"Okay. Cool. Next time, fill me in as you make the plans."

"I will, I promise. Pinky promise. You think you can convince him I'm sleeping there?" the plea in her voice is adorable.

You chuckle. "I've got you, S." Joel sighs in relief in front of you. "Just one thing."

"Yeah?"

"Be back here tomorrow first thing in the morning. 7:30 sharp. I'm gonna invite your dad for breakfast, as punishment for your lack of planning, and you'll be the one making us the pancakes," before she can even answer, you go, "Toodles!" and hang up.

When you put your phone back at the base, you turn around with a proud smile.

Joel's looking at you funny. "You're good at that," he says.

"At what? Acting?" you laugh when nods. "I was a trouble child. I'm great at lying."

"Aren't those the same?"

"Eh. A thin line separates them." You can sense his awkwardness creeping up, so you do your best to think on the spot. "Is she one to escape?"

"Not really, no." He's shuffling on his feet, uncertain of what to do in your home. "She's never done this before."

"From what she told me, she's never around for your birthday."

"That's true."

"She wants to make a surprise for you," you inform. It puts that smile on his face that makes your knees a little weak. "And now she has to be back here at seven in the morning. All is well."

He laughs. "Yeah, I guess so."

He's gonna see himself out. You swallow all the nervousness that being in his presence creates and just... goes for it. "Is it hard? Having a kid?"

That relaxes some of the tension in his shoulders. He leans on the counter of your kitchen and shakes his head. "Not really. It's a lot of work, but it's not hard. It's rewarding."

I wish my mother felt the same. You smile at the truth in his words. "I can see it's hard work." He laughs again. "Well—I had just opened that before you rang the bell," you point at the Pinot on top of the counter. "Want a glass? Unless you tell me you're 'only beer' kind of guy, then I can't help ya."

Joel looks between you and the bottle a couple of times, then looks down at himself. "I'm uh—I'm all greasy and gross from work. You sure that's the company you want for wine?"

Rolling your eyes, you walk towards your glasses cabinets. "If I told you that you can go home and shower, you'd never come back."

"And that'd be a bad thing?"

"Sure it would. You're the only person in this entire street that hasn't interrogated me on my life so far, I feel left out. Offended, even," you add with a dramatic twist. Your robe flows around you, and you can't help but smile when you see his eyes following you.

It's the way he swallows visibly, almost audibly, that plants a seed of maybe inside your head. "I'm not usually one to pry."

You place both glasses on the counter. "Neither am I."

"I know. It's why I like ya," Joel says it with eyes on the glasses instead of you. "That and the way you talk to the plants."

Your hand on the corkscrew stops, and you want to slam your forehead against the wood. "Oh, god."

His laughter is so nice. "Nah, don't be embarrassed. 's why I gave you your nickname."

"Don't be embarrassed? That's mortifying, Joel. I thought no one—wait." Had you heard him right? "What d'you mean you gave me my nickname?"

Joel's head tilts, and he's definitely a charmer kind of guy. If you do have a chance, you might be fucked. "Your nickname."

"Miss Sunshine?" He nods. "I thought that was Sarah."

"No, Sarah used it first in front of you," he pulls one of the glasses closer to him. "I said it first."

Well... that made it just as special but in a different way. You pour the wine into both glasses. "Good to know. I was under the impression she was the creative genius in the household—I just. Quick question that I never asked her: Why?"

"'Cause every mornin' before I left for work you're there on that big window," he points at the glass window that's occupies ceiling to floor, the very reason you picked this house, "talking to your plants as if you're the sun itself waking them up. 's cute."

Cute. You hate how he has the ability to make you blush. What is this, fucking high school?

"That makes sense."

Joel wipes his palms on the side of his t-shirt and then looks up at you. "If I go home with the promise of comin' back, will you let me shower?"

Let me. You're thankful your arms are covered because you're unsure of what this man is capable of when he knows the effect he has on somebody.

"I'll let you," you answer.

Joel nods and his smile is so genuine that you wonder why you never tried before.

"'kay," he takes one sip of the wine, hums in approval, and then takes a deep breath. "'m gonna go. I'll be back to interrogate you."

"I'll leave the door open."

"No—Jesus bloody Christ, are you and Sarah mad? Lock the door, Sunshine." You like it so much when he's the one that says it. "I'm serious."

"Alright, jeez," you laugh.

It's less tense than you imagined as he puts his shoes back on and walks out of your door. Joel crosses the street with a little wave in your direction, and all you can think is—what on Earth am I gonna do to him?

When he's back, Joel smells so good it's intoxicating.

It makes your brain melt.

Minty and fresh. That's what his stuff smells like, and you know the idea of that scent's now painted on the walls of your brain.

He does that stupid little dad pose, widening both arms and lifting them up in a display of 'what do you think' before walking in.

It makes you want to push him against the wall, but you do your best at behaving.

For now.

"Brand new man?" you ask.

He points at his glass of wine, untouched since the moment he left. "Will be in a sec."

You wait for him to take a sip before extending him what you held in your hand before he arrived.

Joel eyed the cigarette and, thank fuck, there was none of the annoying judgment sometimes people carried. He stops his movement to sit on the stool and asks, "You smoke in here, or are we goin' outside?"

"There's a table there. Weather's nice. D'you mind?"

Joel grabs his glass, shaking his head. "Not at all, ma'am. Lead the way."

"Ma'am," you echo him, sounding disgusted. He laughs behind you, "Who am I, Mrs. Adler?"

Still laughing, Joel answers, "Nah. Too talkative for that."

You turn around with your mouth hanging open, trying very little to look offended. "I beg your pardon. We never spoke for longer than, what, five minutes?"

Joel shrugs his shoulders. His smile is as intoxicating as his presence. "I hear things."

"You hear things?" you ask, pushing open the door that leads outside.

"I do," he sips his wine, looking to the small terrace where your little table is. "My daughter's a gossiper, little Sunshine. I think y'should know that."

Little Sunshine. Goddamn this man.

"Should I be scared, here? I haven't even told her anything, but I feel like I should be."

"If you didn't tell her anythin', than why would you be?"

"Because!" you laugh, feeling just a little out of your depth with his smoothness. You expected more closeness from Joel. Less teasing, easy banter. "You're talking like someone who knows a lot, that's all."

"And I do," he says, sounding every bit as serious.

You sit down on one of the chairs — your chair, precisely — and watch as Joel walks around a little, taking in the environment. He adds, "Did ya know," pausing for a dramatic effect, he sips again, "that in all of three months, you became one of my daughters' favorite people?"

He pins you under his gaze.

You cross your legs, and watch happily as his gaze drops to the motion.

"Did I?" if you sip at his pace, you'll be throwing yourself on his lap in an embarrassing amount of time.

Joel nods behind his cup, touching one of the many plants that cover your backyard area from floor, to walls, to ceiling. "You did," he smiles, dropping the fake seriousness. "Are you ready to deal with the six months absence? 'Cause from personal experience," he points both hands at his chest, "you try convincing yourself you won't miss her all that much 'cause, y'know, it's "just" a girl, but—fuck," he spits the last word, smiling widening around the fact. "She's so cool to have around. You'll see. Your phone's bill's about to create life."

It grounds you.

The way Joel speaks of Sarah makes you feel comfortable sitting here, and any doubts you had are sucked by the green life around you and returned as oxygen.

Joel talks about anything, no reservations.

In his absence, you doubted whether this could be any different than most times.

Would Joel be like that—like any of those other guys?

He wasn't.

Joel, as much as you hated to admit it, was an exception.

Maybe these things were fated. Simple chemistry. Similar mindsets. Whatever it was—you had it every once in a blue moon.

Your expectations settings were long ago molded to expect the least, and it takes only half a bottle of wine for you to notice the need to rear it in.

He's so damn easy. Joel goes from one topic to another like he's interested. He answers your questions with full interest, sometimes going on tangent stories, and he's the one who keeps the glasses filled.

Attentive, you take note the second time that happens. Before any of the glasses got empty, he served you both.

He compliments your taste in music and sounds genuine about it.

The weird silences you most dreaded never happen—if he's not answering you, Joel asks things. Interesting things, unlike any other neighbor.

"Was it you who decorated your place inside? 'Cause, there are very specific things in there. And you seem like the type to know what you like."

Joel was very attentive.

He asked, "and is this what you like to do with your free time?" pointing at the books you put away when you both arrived, "Drink wine, read, talk to your plants?"

"I still can't believe you've seen me doing that."

He laughed at that. "It's a pretty big window, Sunshine. Jesus Christ—you don't lock the door, you don't know people can see through your gigantic-ass window—I'm genuinely starin' to get worried here."

"Okay, first of all, I do lock my door."

"Do you?"

"'Course. Most days."

"Oh my—"

"—and! Now that I was reminded of my window's size, I'll consider buying drapes. Long, white ones. That'd be cool."

It was easy.

Talking to Joel—sharing a table with him, a glass of wine—so easy.

He never looked uncomfortable. Even if he moved a lot, Joel looked good—so damn good you lost focus every now and then—, but good with himself.

In his skin.

That was intoxicating.

When he does more than just talk and asks things; it's almost too damn easy. Was time supposed to go this way?

The first bottle end, but it's too soon.

You know it. He knows it—plays with it, in fact. Waves the empty bottle after pouring it for you and him in the air very lightly then places it on the floor.

Offering another one is almost a visceral reaction.

You don't have the same finesse he does, or at least, you think not, but if his smiles and closing proximity are anything to go by, he's enjoying himself as much as you are. "I dance around opening these a lot," you say pointing at the empty bottle. Pulling your legs closer to yourself despite the voice of your mother telling you that's a body language sign of insecurity—fuck insecurity. "Don't wanna be the wine lady on top of the plant one. But they're good. I like it."

"I only drink wine when my brother cooks," he offers.

The glass in your hands makes you feel safe enough to land this conversation where you want it. "Really? He cooks a lot?"

"More than me," Joel confesses with a shrug. "He likes to match the wine to the dish and that type o' stuff."

"I was taught how to be picky, but if I'm being honest—" you like the way Joel leans in closer when you pause it. You smile, "it's all just grapes tastin' really, really good." The sound of his damn laugh. This man's gotta have a flaw, you think. "As long as it's wine, I'm happy."

"I think that about a good beer after a day of work."

"We're all just trying to give ourselves little positive reinforcements for playing nice at doing our jobs, huh?"

Joel pauses at that. Lifts his eyebrows, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, wow—"

"Oh god", while it took you a lot of alcohol to get drunk, being open-mouthed about weird things came with the territory of feeling comfortable.

Joel made you comfortable, even if you were mortified at how amused he was.

When he's done laughing, he looks at you. "That's cute. You're the philosophical type."

"Isn't everybody who enjoys wine?"

"I don't know. I enjoy wine and I'm not one to go that far, I think."

"Hmm. Philosophizing can involve different topics. Lenses."

Joel wolf whistles. "Well, I think I'd need a couple more glasses to unlock that side of me."

"Not a problem," you get up, and resist the urge to wink at him. "I'll be back."

Your reflection in the kitchen mirrors is the confirmation of how fucked exactly you are.

It's more than just the color on your cheeks—it's the glassy screen over your eyes, making it shine like...

Well, very few times.

Fuck, you think.

Maybe that's why your palms are sweating.

He's more than you bargained for—Joel's looks were hard to move on from, but this?

Once in Rome...

Fuck it.

It's not as if either one of you was blinded to what a moonlight late-night conversation leads to.

The air outside could be felt.

When you're going back with the opened bottle, another pin drops in your mind.

He has the whole night free.

You don't break the bottle, but it's a close call.

Joel asks you the second you're back, "I have a depressing confession to make—I was tryin' to keep to it to myself, but honestly, it's all I taught about when you left."

You place the bottle in the middle of the table carefully and sit back down with your eyes on him.

He moved his chair closer again.

"Do share," you urge.

Joel looks around the yard—he seems to do it a lot when he's dipping his toes into personal places and says, "This is the first time in a—uh—I don't even know. A while. That I just... sat with another adult. Drank something nice. Talked about more than just—fucking politics, or whatever." Joel's eyes on you make you feel honored. You know he'd say that's a silly thought if you said it out loud. "It's really nice. And—the depressing part comes in now: I'm only here 'cause of my brother."

You tilted your hair. "You're here because... of Tommy?" you tried connecting those dots, but came up short.

Thankfully, Joel was here. With his smile, and his explanation.

"You see, before Sarah's mom and I decided she could spend some months here instead of just a few weekends, I was already... shutting in. His words, not mine," Joel picks up his glass for a sip, and you hang onto every word he says. "So when she came, he took me out one night. That little bar a few blocks from here—y'know Mr. O'Donovan's place?" when you shake your head, he waves a hand, "I'll take you someday—'s the only place around here that's worth a dime."

"I'll take your word for it." I hate bars. You'd go for him. With him.

"I think I know what beer you'd like," it comes off as a whisper, and you have to hide behind your glass again. "I only remember that talk because he made me promise. He's not one to ask for promises."

"What did he make you promise?"

"He was upset 'cause I kept turnin' him down every time he wanted to do his 'meet my friend and you'll be good friends' match-making shit, so he said, 'you promise that the next time someone invites you do somethin' you actually wanna do, you're not gonna turn 'em down? You'll actually fucking go, without makin' excuses to yourself'. And that sounded fair. So I promised."

You take note of the effort he's making.

The subtle 'this isn't just about what's about to happen'.

'I'll take you someday'.

'Next time someone invites you to do somethin' you actually wanna do'.

So more than just neighbors. You nod at that, smiling at him. "He seems like a good brother," you say. "Siblings can be a pain in the ass."

Joel stops his glass on the way to his lip to shake his head at you, "Oh, no no," he takes the sip first, and says, "one doesn't negate the other. He very much is a pain in my ass, trust me."

You laugh. "Older and younger?"

"Younger," he nods. "I had a lil' bit of peace here and there before he was born."

"Can't imagine you'd have it any other way nowadays."

He agrees with you.

When he doesn't, Joel scrunches his nose as he shakes his head.

He does silly faces. You wonder if he's aware of how unfair it is that he gets to look like that. Tender. Charming.

He proves your theory to be right with only half another bottle.

Put two or more adults plus a certain amount of alcohol in a closed environment, and sex will be on the table.

It makes you blush when you think... it could literally be on the table.

Joel pretends he doesn't see you growing hotter. He keeps his eyes on you as you take off the robe instead of looking at your arms. Listens to what you're saying without losing focus.

Only when you're done and asking him something in response that he looks.

It makes your throat dry when he does.

Joel has an unabashed, almost cocky tilt to his mannerisms.

You thought he'd be quieter than he is—more serious.

It's a welcomed contrast.

When sex is laid on the table, it comes because he brought up the joke you made at the beginning of the night about his lack of interest in your life, and decided to ask you things. Where you grew up. If you were always like this.

"Define 'like this'."

"Smart with the calculating glance, and sweet-talking."

"Is that me?"

"Sure is, Sunshine."

None of the questions that people usually ask.

It makes you bite your lip more than you wished—his manly, tall presence gets under your skin in ways that no previous partner managed to. Tucking your hair behind your ear, avoiding leading the conversation to the exact places you liked, giggling—those weren't things you did.

He pulled them from you.

When he does ask you the 'usual' questions, it lacks the malicious curiosity inflating others whenever they did.

Sex is laid on the table because Joel looks you in the eyes with that easiness in his shoulders and asks, "I'm not as private as you, though—all of my neighbors already know Tommy, and Sarah. You, on the other hand... the mysterious crime and horror novelist, who talks to her plants and moved from so, so far. I might not be the prying type, but I was curious about you long before my gremlin set her little claws on you. How come I never see anyone coming in or out of here? You tellin' me not one friend of yours followed you here to god-forsaken Texas?"

Your glass is almost empty, and you focus on the twirling of the red inside it to avert your mind from the way he's sitting. "The point of moving was getting away from them. All of them, as bad as that sounds," you cover your eyes with your free hand, and Joel's hand touches your forearm.

"Hey—it's fine. Don't feel bad. 'm happy you had the privilege of gettin' away. If you wanted to move away from all of it, I'm sure you had your reasons."

Looking between your fingers, you try appraising his face. "Really?"

"Really," he nods.

"Okay." You sit up straight. "And I do have people over, sometimes. You're just always at work."

"Yeah? You made friends already?"

"A few, yeah."

"Where?" he removes his hand from your forearm but drops it to your chair's armrest. The proximity is doing something to you. "I thought you worked from home."

"I do," you agree. "But I do other stuff. I'm not always here with my plants, Joel," you roll your eyes, smiling amusedly.

Joel laughs, "I wouldn't know. If I could work from home and stay with my tools and wood, I would."

"And I believe you," you nodded.

He bites on his smile before asking. "What other stuff d'you do?"

"I joined a book club," you reply, feeling all levels of boring.

From his look, he disagrees. "You got the patience for that?"

"Sure do," you nod again.

He nods, pouting in awe. "Nice," he says. "Are your book club friends givin' you the right impression of Texans?"

"I'm warming up to them," you smile.

Nodding, he asks, "Should I ask now the questions all my neighbors already know the answer to? 'Cause I am curious. Did you know Mr. Adler tried tellin' me what he 'discovered' about you? He tried looking blasé when he said that, but I'm sure he just wanted to gossip about the pretty girl who moved across from him."

"Ew, Joel," you laugh.

His eyes never leave you—you feel it even when you're not looking at him. He's laughing too. "What? It's true."

When you look back up at him, you wonder—when did you two get this close?

"You can ask," you say. "It's not that exciting, the answer. Actually, it's not exciting at all."

"Hmm, I'll be the judge of that," he sips his wine, and leaves the glass on the table. "You already know my backstory, so kill my curiosity now," he pierces with his eyes for a moment, "how on Earth is there no ring on this finger?" he points to your ring finger, then he leans in closer, and you can smell the wine in his breath; you want to kiss it until it's taste is gone, "and how is it that I never see anyone leaving here early in the mornings?"

Well. "No ring 'cause I didn't want one so far," you reply. To him, you give more honesty than anyone else who's asked. "And I have the luxury of living without it. I know many friends of mine who don't—and actually, that was part of..." don't go there. "Nevermind," you shake your head, pinning yourself to here.

"You just didn't want it?" he echos.

You nod, "Never did," there's no reason to lie to him. He smells so good—why would you lie to him? "Most men bore men, Joel."

"Wow," the smile that widens is a little baffled. A little dirty. "Should I be scared?"

At that, you burst out laughing. "Really?" You have no clocks outside, but the starry sky and the deep silence in the houses next to you are a good enough indicator. "It's been... a couple of hours, at least. We're one bottle and a half," you say, looking at your glasses shining on the table, "deep into conversation... and you wonder if you should be scared?"

Joel's still looking at you when you look back. His arm is around your chair, and your back touches it when you lean back against it. "I'll take that as a no."

"You are very far from boring."

"'m happy you think so," he smiles. He lets his eyes drop to your lips, without a care for the two palms of distance that separate your faces. It's meant to be blatant. Obvious. "Just another question..."

Here it comes, you thought. Why no kids? Why so alone? Do you feel lonely?

"Why me?" he asks.

It's nothing more than a breath.

You could ignore it. Give any answer, and close the gap. Instead, you give him honesty. "Honestly? I was so attracted to you, the second I saw you, that I was willing to even hear somethin' stupid coming out of your mouth if I could just—," do it, do it, do it. Seeing his eyes darken from up close is torture. You can feel the pulse of your heartbeat between your legs. "Now, if I were any smart, I'd be wishing for you to be bad at all the rest, because..."

This was amazing already.

Joel laughs, just a single, breathy laugh, and then does something you would never see it coming.

He pushes his chair back with the weight of his hips and drops to his knees.

The gasp you let out is enough to put the most insufferable smile on his face.

"Don't say that," he feigns hurt, as if he wasn't smiling with his eyes and lips. "It might've been a while, but I don't think I lost my touch just yet."

Joel's hands envelop your knees and slowly pull them apart. You feel like an open wire—aware of every breath your body takes and each minimum reaction to him.

You feel the wet pulse inside your panties when he kisses the skin of your inner thigh, right above your knee.

Joel smiles up at you, blinking his eyes.

Damn him, you think. His hands caress their way up your skin, and you wished you were naked already.

He seems like someone to enjoy the torture—when his hands reach the curve of your ass, they stop there, holding onto your waist.

"Have I?" he asks, kissing the other inner leg. You feel a hint of his tongue in the short kiss.

What could you say to that?

"You really haven't."

Feeling the hot breathing of his laughter on your inner thighs was not in your list for tonight.

"Do I get a kiss, then?"

He would never have to ask you twice.

Your legs wrap around his torso when you lean down to meet him for the kiss. Joel seems to love the position—he smiles at first, gripping you by the neck.

He takes his time to look at you before he dives in. A mental check-in. Maybe just admiring, just as you were from the second he kneeled.

His kiss comes from experience. A lot of fucking experience.

If you were weak in the knees before, you seal the notion that you're out of your depth there and then.

Joel kisses like no one's ever kissed you before—like he wants to explore, discover, conquer.

He licks his way inside of you with the first kiss.

His tongue isn't shy; he makes you adjust to his rhythm, to let go and open up, and when you, you're rewarded with it—he pulls up just an inch, just to whisper, "that's it," and then dives back in.

Joel wraps his arm around your shoulder and neck in a possessive manner. It's why he makes it so easy for you let him guide it—he's holding you, and you moan as you melt into him.

He wants to feel your body.

The more you press yourself against him, the more Joel grants you little sighs of his own pleasure.

He never pushes his hips against you. Never presses you towards him.

It makes you want to scream.

When he pulls away, Joel sighs happily. He presses his right thumb over your swollen bottom lip, and nodding, kneels on his heels again.

"Joel..."

Your face remains close to his, gravitating to where he does. He whispers, "Lift your hips up for me, Sunshine," wrapped around a smile.

You do as he says.

His hand takes off your shorts without your eyes ever leaving you, and when the item is on the floor, Joel releases the robe you foregone earlier tonight from your backrest to slide down where you sit.

To not make a mess, it says.

Your face is burning up, but not as much as the rest of you.

"Is this ok?" he asks.

He waits for your nod of approval before pulling you by your knees. "Good," he's strong enough to get you where he wants in one pull. Your hips are nearing the end of the chair and from this angle, Joel gets to look.

He eyes the underwear as if it's personally offending him.

"I like the color," he says. He traces a finger across the baby blue lace and looks up at you. "Suits ya," he says. That's when he hooks a finger on the fabric, pulling it to the side. "I dreamt about this."

That gets to you.

Joel's fingers are thorough—able. He uses his knuckles to spread the lips apart, uncaring about the whines you let out above him, still holding on to the shame of being the only one exposed.

It lasts until he places two knuckles on each side of your clit, stimulating it with back-and-forth movements.

You were right about the torture.

He enjoys it.

Joel waits for your clit to be hard between his fingers before he puts his mouth to it.

You can only cling onto his hair.

I dreamt about this, too.

"Fuck—I dreamt about this too," you confess.

His moan vibrating against the core of your pussy makes you clench.

Joel's only starting.

He takes his time in finding the rhythm you most feel pleasure on your clit. He never bites, never nibbles, and doesn't go softly, like other men.

He eats.

Joel's mouth is stuck to you—the way he laps and slurps and sucks on your hardened nub only makes your volume go from whines and pleas of his name to moans in very little time.

That's when he dips his tongue inside. When he uses it as muscle and proves to you why the idea of oral is so good for men.

Because it's good.

Joel gives no indicator that he wants to stop at any time, and it turns you into something that blossoms.

At some point between him almost making you cum just by sucking on your clit and fucking his tongue in and out of you, your legs made their way to his shoulders, and his hands have secured themselves groping your ass.

He pulls back for air, once.

His fingers enter you instead, two at once.

"So wet already," he says. You only hear it, until, "look at me," he asks.

As if his thick, long fingers dripping into places inside of you weren't enough, you get to look at him.

His face glistening on your back porch is something that burns behind your eyelids the second you see it. You feel incoherent, needy, and exposed in more than one way.

Joel looks like he could eat you like this.

"Joel—please. Please," you're begging, but for what, you're not sure.

"Cum for me first. I'll give you whatever you want later, just," he pumps his fingers inside of you, keeping a steady and strong pace, and then says, "You look so good like this, Jesus fuckin' Christ."

Profanities.

That's what he says before getting his mouth back on you—his tongue sucking and vibrating against your clit.

It's too much. Too fucking much, and, "Joel, Joel—"

He pulls back just to say it, "That's it, doin' so good, Sunshine—" and that's when you lose it. The coaxing. It's so earnest. Sounds so pleased, dipping in honey as if it's him who's feeling this good.

"'m gonna cum Joel, fuck me, just like that—"

"Like this? Hm? Show me. Cum on my mouth."

All it takes is for him to put it back on you. Joel knows how to push himself inside—knows how to explore the hot and tight confines of your cunt, because he coos a first orgasm out of you with the right pace only.

No strength. No speed. Just sucking, and curling right against your spot.

Your vision whites out.

The time you take to come back to yourself, he keeps playing with your pussy and the mess he made in it, seeming as satisfied with the result as you are. Somewhere in white land.

What a little death.

After that, it's more a mess and clashes of teeth and desires than you knew you were even capable of.

He pulls you in for a kiss, and you pull him inside the house.

The idea is to make it to your room, but you never make it past the living room.

When you press him against a wall to finish taking off his clothes, seeing him only in briefs makes gravity pull you in.

Nothing but black briefs.

You have to drop to your knees.

Joel curses under his breath and tries his best at keeping his posture, but you're with a mind entirely clouded by raw need.

To him, you want to do only your best.

You're addicted to the way he mutters, "atta girl," every time you discover something that brings him pleasure. It sounds so fucking dirty.

"That's it. Atta fuckin' girl, god."

With him, you use tricks your friends once told you that are buried in the back of your mind. You hold the part of his cock your mouth can't cover and move it in sync with your lips. You make it wet, make sloppy, make it whatever he leads it to be.

Joel hisses and moans louder when you find the special places hidden—the sensitive skin between his balls that leads up, you lick it from start to finish and are rewarded with a full-body shudder.

He shows you what strong body means.

"Where's your room?" he pulls you by the arms, and you somehow end up jumping on him. Exactly what you wanted.

"I'm not makin' that far," you tell him with a grin.

He has his thumb on your lips again—he seems to like your mouth.

"Didn't think you'd want my bare ass on your couch."

"That is exactly where I want your bare ass right now," you tell him.

He's good at following requests, just as he is at giving them.

Joel sits with you already straddling his lap, and bless his gentleman's heart, he says, "I left my pants outside—wait," he curses under his breath with your hips circling his shaft. Letting it slide between your pussy lips. "Fuckin' hell."

"Fuckin' hell indeed," you sigh. "Wait here."

You run outside for it, only because you're not on the pill. Maybe you'll start taking it. Maybe you shouldn't think that far.

Joel's waiting for you alright—he has his hand at the base of his cock, sitting on your couch like a modern-day Adonis.

A sluttier Adonis. Sexier, too.

"Stop starin' and c'mere," he demands;

And who are you to say no to that?

Joel does you the favor of putting it on as you make yourself comfortable on his lap again, taking all of your out of the way. He looks like he wants to eat you alive piece by piece, and you love it.

"Lemme know if you want me to take over," he tells you.

"Yes, sir," you whisper in a taunting manner.

Joel rests his forehead against yours when you line himself up with you, and it's a reward of your stupid, gigantic-ass window letting in the light from outside that allows you to see the pleasure on his face as you sink around him, burying him to the hilt.

His digits press so hard on your sides they'll brise.

You'll be bruised tomorrow morning.

Fingerprints on your hips, beard burns on your inner legs, palm shapes across your ass.

When you start moving, none of you say a word about how it feels.

It's criminal.

Only curses and your names are allowed in the thin space separating your wet bodies.

The thin layer of sweat makes you two glide on each other, and the drag of him inside of you is almost too good for words.

You're scared of the ones that'd make their way out, anyway.

So you let out what you can. You call for him, and he calls back. Joel slaps your ass, both sides of it, and urges you on to take him as you want it.

"Fuckin' christ, I'm never gonna—fuck—never gonna sleep again."

There it is. Being pussy-drunk makes him loose-lipped.

Your own are aching with how hard you bite on them.

Joel lets the reigns remain on your hands as you stay on top. He lets you ride him painfully slow, and faster, just because it feels good. He lets you climb all the way up only to slam back down, praising you through the fog in your brain.

"Does it feel good, Sunshine? Mm? My cock feels that good for you?"

You're sure it'll all come back to haunt you once your brain can be coherent.

He takes charge when you start begging him, and for what, you're unsure of. It's a mixture of please and his name, which Joel takes as his permission slip.

He flips you onto your back, hooks one of your legs on the middle of his back, and fucks you both into another orgasm.

It should be concerning the way he does it—like he's familiar with your body and your cues. He just follows your pace and moans until you're clawing at his back, and when his name comes out over and over again, he coaxes it again. Coos at you, holding your face in one hand. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't ya? Do it. I'll cum for you when I feel you shakin' around my cock, Sunshine. Cum for me."

It comes so hard you almost faint; blackout.

Joel takes care of you afterward.

Of course he does.

Even with the weakest legs and the minimum sense of reality around you, he manages. Joel leads you upstairs, tells you he's collected your clothes, and even lays down when you ask him.

"Just for a while," you ask.

He lays in front of you in bed, and pulls your arms around him. "I'm puttin' an alarm."

Little spoon. "You gotta be back here in the morning anyway."

"I know," he kisses your wrist. "Can't wait."

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deadsetobsessions · 2 months

Text

Gothic mushroom shaped candles. Danny picked one up, grinning. Sam would have love these on her alters. Very Sam, very Gotham.

It a bit bittersweet, now that he could think of her without being paralyzed by crushing grief. Her and Tucker both. Danny turned, keeping an eye on Tim as he glared into the case of used cameras.

Danny walked over and tried not to feel guilty about practically mooching off of a child. Even if the money he was using was actually the Drakes’.

“Like anything you see?”

Tim shook his head. Danny pondered over what little he knew of photography- all of which he learned from documentaries that were more focused on nature.

“I think there might be a camera store a couple of blocks down. We could get the ones that takes photos of animals, like the really big ones that takes photos of wildlife?”

“I guess. I mean, I don’t need it since we can…” Tim glanced around suspiciously. Danny willed his mouth to not smile at Tim’s antics. “Fly close,” the kid finished in a whisper.

“Okay, but what about when I’m not there?”

Tim hunched up on himself and Danny despaired inwardly. Uh oh, what did he say now?”

“Are you going somewhere?” Tim quietly asked, sounding hurt and upset.

“No,” Danny soothed, patting Tim on the head. I mean, what if I’m busy with stuff but you want to go take pictures without me?”

“You said to go get you whenever I wanna go out to take pictures.”

“Okay, yeah, I- well, we might as well get you a quality camera, right? To take really really good pictures of the… local wildlife. Like… the birds and the bats, and all that.” Danny winked exaggeratedly.

Tim blinked and giggled when he got the joke. “Okay, as long as you’re staying!”

Danny grinned, fangs and all. “Of course.”

——

At the end of their shopping spree, generously provided and sponsored by the Drake family and their heavy black card, Danny got a phone and Tim got a wild life camera that was a whopping $4,000 but was compact enough to not look absolutely ridiculous.

“It’s heavy!” Tim whined, as he grinned like a loon.

“It’s quality,” Danny plopped the shopping bags on the island in one of the giant kitchens Drake manor had. “I’ll make dinner. You figure out those settings and you can tell me about it when we eat.”

“Okay!” Tim hummed excited, quick fingers and laser focus already aimed at his new device.

Danny picked up his new phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. As it rung, Danny held it up to his ear and began prepping the ingredients. At least

“Hello?” His sister’s cautious voice came through the phone. Danny’s shoulders relaxed.

“Heya, Jazz.” He could see Tim’s ears all but perk up in order to eavesdrop. His mouth quirked up in amusement and Danny turned away. He probably shouldn’t be encouraging that kind of behavior… but it was funny.

“Danny! Are you okay? I- I heard that they chased after you and I was worried sick! Are you safe? Any injuries? Do I need to pick you up?”

“I’m good. Promise. Not bleeding out or dying. It’s actually pretty nice right now,” Danny paused before turning back a little more so he could watch Tim’s reaction peripherally. “Hey, listen, can I adopt a little brother?”

He watched Tim sit up straighter eyed flickering up to him and back down again, a secretly pleased look on his face as he figured out that Danny was in fact talking about him.

“Danny, what the hell?” Jazz huffed, audibly relieved to know that Danny wasn’t on his merry way to becoming a full on ghost. “Who, why, and what kind of trouble did you get into now?”

“Hey, this was me getting out of trouble. Those people don’t even know where I escaped to. Tim helped me out a lot,” Danny said in the tone that meant ‘and there’s more to it but I can’t tell you right now.’

“His name’s Tim?”

“Yeah, you wanna say hi?”

Tim looked terrified as he heard Danny’s side of the conversation. Danny could relate.

“Alright. But you’re explaining everything later, got it?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Danny turned to Tim, abandoning the peas he was shelling and rinsing off his hand to hold the phone.

“Tim, my sister, Jazz, wants to say hi. Are you cool with that?”

“Uhm! Yeah! Yeah, sure.” Tim, honest to ancients, squeaked. Danny’s enhanced hearing could pick up Jazz’s already melting heart. He taped a button.

“Jazz, you’re on speaker.”

“Hey, Tim. I’m Jazz. Thanks for taking care of my little brother!”

“Uh, hi, Jazz! I’m Timothy Drake! And, uh, you’re welcome! Anytime!”

Tim glanced at Danny for reassurance, relaxing a bit when the halfa threw him a double thumbs up.

Jazz went quiet.

“Jazz, you good?” Danny asked.

“We’re adopting him. Danny, you better make sure knows about everyone. Hi, Tim, I’m Jazz, your new big sister.”

“Uh- I have parents.”

“That can be fixed,” Jazz casually brushed off. Tim looked like a deer in headlights, so Danny took his sister off speaker and went back to cooking. He made sure to smile at Tim.

“Don’t worry, we won’t adopt you if you don’t want to. But it wasn’t a joke, we’re very serious.”

“I’ll think about it?”

Danny shrugged. “Good enough for me.”

“So, where are you?” Jazz asked him, rustling coming through on the phone.

“Gotham.”

“You are so fucking lucky I love you, dumbass. I’ll be there tomorrow at noon.”

“Playing hooky, are you?”

“Fuck off, little brother, before I show Tim your toddler pictures.”

“Thanks, Jazz.”

“Bye, Danny. Don’t get killed again when I’m not there, got it?”

“Sure, sure.”

Danny smiled and returned to his agenda of stuffing as many vegetables into one meal as he can. At least the food isn’t trying to tear out his face.

——

Robin hasn’t heard the eerie giggles around lately, but he’s been practicing his own. It’s weird though, because there’s always a glint of something in the corner of his eyes.

“Robin, muggers.”

“On it, B. Shall we, Batgirl?”

“Let’s go, Boy Wonder.”

#Jazz Fenton #jazz fenton casually suggesting murder #danny phantom #batman #tim drake #dc x dp #dcxdp #bamf danny phantom #Danny phantom and the weird experience of being the youngest and the oldest sibling #squatter! Danny Fenton #danny: well I don’t wanna go home so I’ll just stay here #this was in my drafts for so long lmfao #inspired by that one post where Tim had to have those expensive and giant wildlife cameras #but I think they’d get the compact one #dick Grayson #barbara gordon #Robin #batgirl

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aothotties · 5 months

Text

Miss Me?

Pairing: BabyDaddy!Connie x Black!Reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, choking, hair pulling, pet names, Connie speaks spanish, Connie is a panty thief, multiple orgasms, fingering, mirror sex, mating press, cream pie, super fluffy at the end.

Word count: 4.3k

-----

“Cairo please stay still so mama can change your diaper, your dad will be here any minute.” You plead with your toddler, rushing to put on his diaper.

“Damn it Connie” You mumble at the sound of your doorbell ringing, of course he shows up early when your hands are full.

“Mama, papa’s at the door.” Your oldest, Cj, says as he eats his snack at the kitchen table.

“Have you tried opening the door from papa?” You ask him, trying and failing to hide your sarcasm.

Your son sighs out dramatically and pauses his Ipad. He drags his feet to the front door and opens it.

“Cj! Que paso papa?” You hear your son’s voice perk up as he and his father start speaking Spanish.

“Your Spanish is magnificent papa, I see your mama is teaching you well?” He looks over at you and stifles a laugh while you wrestle with Cairo.

“I’m trying to. There! Go ahead and be free.” You huff and lean back on your arms, tilting your head to the side with a smile on your face as he toddles over to his father.

“Ven aqui hijo!” He exclaims, immediately scooping the small boy up into his arms as he kisses all over his face.

You stand up from your spot on the floor and grab your phone to check the time. You have a date tonight and who better to watch your boys than their father.

“Mama you didn’t give papa a hug yet” Your son points out, hiding a sneaky smile behind his hand as he giggles.

“He’s right mami, you’re the only one who hasn’t given me a hug.” He sets your younger son down and walks over to you slowly with his arms open wide.

“You guys think you’re so sneaky don’t you?” You look between the both of them and playfully roll your eyes.

You walk over to Connie and wrap your arms around his waist, you let out a gasp when he tightens the hug and rubs his hands up and down your back. You can't exactly explain it, but the way he’s hugging you kind of made you miss him being around.

“Make sure your little boyfriend has you back at a decent time.” He pulls away from you and gives you a smile.

“Okay one, Tyler is not my boyfriend he’s my work friend. And two I will let you know how the night goes when I come back.” You give him a quick kiss on the cheek then head to your room to get ready.

After about 45 minutes you finally finish getting yourself together. You make your way to the living room and swing your purse onto your shoulder.

--- “Alright boys, I’ll be back by 11. If you need anything ask your father, and Connie if you need anything you know who to dial.” You dig through your bag for your keys and look up to see your sons and their father staring at you.

“What’s the problem?” You ask, rolling your eyes and resting a hand on your hip.

“Mommy it’s cold out you should wear a sweater” Cj says, walking over to the coat rack.

“Yeah mami, you should really put on a sweater. We wouldn’t want you to catch a cold now, would we?” He asks, eyeing you from head to toe as you apply your lip gloss.

“It’s 78 degrees, you guys are doing too much” You check yourself over again and grab your keys.

“Have fun!” Connie and the boys say in unison which brings a smile to his face.

“Alright, who wants to watch scary movies and eat ice cream?!”

~~~

Connie quietly backs out of the boys room and pulls the door shut as carefully as he can.

“Finally, those boys can play all night long.” Connie mumbles to himself and turns to walk down the steps.

He stops in front of your door and stares at the shiny knob in front of him. He rubs his hand over his face and steps inside what used to be your shared bedroom and looks around.

He chuckles to himself as the memories of you two in this room take over his mind, so many nights full of laughter, tears, moans and whimpers. Nights he wishes you two can hopefully have again.

A red fabric catches his eyes and he raises an eyebrow as he squats down to retrieve the piece of cloth. He unfolds the fabric and is surprised at the sight of your skimpy panties in his hand.

He stuffs the panties into his back pocket and can’t help but fantasize about the things he’s going to do to and with the pretty underwear. He decides to leave the room now before you come home and catch him snooping.

Although that wouldn’t be such a terrible thing, he always points out how sexy you look when you’re pissed off.

He jogs down the steps and out to your back patio, he makes himself comfortable and pulls out a bag of weed and a pack of wraps.

“Now for my favorite part of the night” He says out loud, talking to nobody but himself.

He opens up the wrap and dumps the contents out into your little trash bin next to the coffee table. Connie starts focusing so hard that he doesn’t notice you stepping inside the house.

You kick your shoes off and throw your bag onto the sofa nearby, you look around the house and shake your head at the sight of him outside. You can’t help but smile at the sight, pushing down the memories trying to come back up.

“Are you going to stand there and be pretty or come and join me?” He asks, not needing to turn around to know you’re watching him.

“I’ve always hated when you do that.” You cross your arms and sit next to him on the sofa.

“Yeah you hate a lot of the things I do, how was your little date?” He says, lighting up the blunt.

“I see where Cj gets his listening problems from, it was not a date. But we had drinks, he bought me dinner and we just talked.” You shrug your shoulders and take the blunt from his hands.

“You two just talked? You’re all dressed up all pretty and you just talked.” He makes a face and nods his head as if he’s trying to understand.

You cough up some smoke when he says the word pretty and pass the blunt back to him.

“Connie, you think I’m pretty?” you ask teasingly, moving closer to where he’s seated.

“I didn’t say all that, I said you dressed up all pretty.” He pokes your nose and takes a long drag, holding the smoke in his mouth as he leans his head back.

Your eyes trail up and down his figure and you can’t up but bite your lip at the sight of his tattoos. Your body moves before you can think and you trace your finger over your favorite piece on the side of his throat.

Your name, you both were so young when he got the tattoo. He asked you for a suggestion and you jokingly said your name, but to him he wanted nothing more than to do it.

He would do absolutely anything to make you happy, in all honesty all he wants to do now is make you happy.

“If you didn’t think I was attractive you wouldn’t have gotten my name tattooed on your neck.” You say to him as you trace your finger over the red ink.

He laces his fingers with yours and rubs his thumb over the back of your hand.

“You know I think you’re the sexiest woman alive, you gave me two boys. To me you can’t get any more gorgeous than you already are, yet somehow you always do.” He kisses your knuckles and sets your hand down.

You feel your face warm up as he speaks and his compliment has you at a loss for words.

“It’s getting late so I should head back to the apartment. Ony is gonna get into my stash if I’m not quick enough” You nod your head and stand up behind him.

“I’ll lock the door behind you” you give him a small smile and he walks back inside. You follow behind him and walk towards the front door.

“Thank you for watching the boys tonight, tell Sasha I said hey” To your surprise he just chuckles dryly and rolls his eyes.

“Yeah that ended two months ago, I guess I forgot to tell you” he throws his hood on and puts his hands in his pocket and shrugs.

“Connie what the hell happened!” You slap him on the arm and wait for him to explain. He lets out a sigh in annoyance and rubs his hands down his face.

“It just didn’t work out. We fought way too much, and she kept saying crazy shit that just didn’t make sense.” He keeps his answer short to avoid diving too much into detail about the situation.

Crazy shit like what?” You cross your arms and stare at him in anticipation.

“She thinks I’m still in love with you, I told her I wasn’t anymore. She called me a fucking liar, I got mad and yelled then that was the end of it”

You’re taken aback by his statement and look around the room awkwardly. You couldn’t help but wonder if what she said was somewhat true. He gets ready to head out the front door but stops when you speak.

“Connie, are you still in love with me?” You quietly ask, walking up to him.

He freezes in his tracks and refuses to make eye contact with you. He lets the door knob go and turns to face you, leaning on the door as he looks at you.

“Why does it matter if I do or not? What’s gonna change between us if I say yes?” He pushes off the door and walks over to where you’re standing. Your stomach twirls at how close he gets to you and you twiddle with your thumbs.

“Connie…” You step as close as you can and pull him towards you by his jacket.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish mami, that’s why we got Cairo now.” He wraps an arm around your waist and stares deeply into your eyes.

You close the gap between you both and press your lips against his eagerly. He drops his bag to the floor and wraps both of his arms around your waist, pulling you in as much as he could. You push the hood off of his head and run your fingers over his hair, basking at how much it’s grown these past months.

“U-upstairs, take me to the bedroom.” You say against his lips, shrieking when he picks you up by your legs. You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh as he quickly makes his way to the bedroom, almost tripping up the steps.

“Be careful or both of us are sleeping alone tonight.” You threaten playfully and he pinches your ass in return.

“Yeah, in your wildest dreams cariña. You already got me in here and it’s gonna be hard to get me to go away this time.” He pushes you up against the door and connects your lips again. He grabs your cheeks to deepen the kiss and slides his tongue inside your mouth eagerly. His hands travel down your body slowly, and he pulls the tie open on your shirt.

You let out a sigh as your breast fall from the shirt, moaning into his mouth as his large, warm hands massage your nipples. You bite down on his bottom lip as he tugs on your nipples, he rubs over the buds to soothe the sting.

“Oh baby you’re just as gorgeous as I remember.” He pulls you off the door and lays you on your bed, looking down at you with a glint in his eyes.

“Connie don’t just stare at me, you know I get self conscious.” You whine and pull him down on top of you by his shirt.

He chuckles at your desperation and pulls his shirt off to reveal his tattoos and muscular figure, your fingers absent-mindedly gravitate towards his abdomen.

“You want to touch them baby?” He asks teasingly, taking your wrist in his hand to place on his body. You trail your hand down his body and lick over your lips.

“You know what I was thinking, mi amor?” He pushes you back on the bed completely and starts to pull your jeans off your legs.

“Now that the tattoo parlor is up and running, I think you should finally let me put some ink on you baby.” Your panties come down with your jeans and he bites his lip.

“Yeah papi? I think I’ll let you put your name on me this time.” You say, enjoying the idea of his name on your body.

His head drops down between your thighs and he nips at the skin, wrapping an arm around your thigh.

“I think imma put it here, right next to these pretty stretch marks over here.” He rubs his hands up and down your thighs ever so gently, sucking on the skin until a mark forms.

“N-no, you know I hate-” You're cut off by a tattooed hand wrapping around your throat.

“I see you’re still as hard headed as ever, huh?” He asks, picking you up and moving over to the middle of your bed.

“W-what are you doing?” You ask, looking back up at him in confusion.

“Since you still don’t listen, I’m going to have to show you how beautiful you are. Remember baby, that’s the whole reason I even put the mirror up.” He kisses your cheek and spreads your thighs apart.

“Que bonita, no?” He asks, taking two of his slender fingers to open your lips up to him.

A low groan leaves his lips at the sight of your sweet hole clenching around nothing. You let out a whine and nod at his question, he smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Good job baby.” He praises, his lips leaving soft kisses down your neck.

He rewards you by sliding two of his fingers into your needy cunt slowly. You arch your back and let out a low moan. Connie takes his free hand and slaps it over your mouth.

“You wanna wake the boys up mami?” He asks, smirking at the way you clench around his fingers.

You shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers meet with your g-spot. You feel your orgasm creeping its way up your body as you get closer.

“I remember what that face means, you gonna come on my fingers mi amor?”” He asks, speeding up the pace of his fingers, curling them upwards to draw you closer to your release.

The coil in your belly snaps and you come on his fingers quickly, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. Connie takes your cheeks in his hand and pulls you in for a deep kiss while you spasm around his fingers, he rubs your clit with his thumb and you whimper in his mouth.

“T-too much, I want to feel you inside of me. Please papi, I need it so bad.” You beg, he looks down at you and bites his lip at how whiny you sound.

“You want me to fuck you princesa? Want me to fuck you until you can’t speak, you want me to breed that sweet little pussy?” You moan at the thought of him filling you up with his cum and nod your head.

He chuckles and bends you forward so you can see the mirror, you bite your lip when his sweatpants and underwear get pulled down his legs. His cock is standing upright, the tip is red and already leaking precum.

“Watch me in the mirror, okay?” He rubs a hand down your back and you nod in return. He gives himself a few strokes before he guides himself inside your pussy.

You let out a gasp as he continues pushing himself inside, he makes sure to be slow and careful as he eases himself in.

“Holy shit baby, you’re so fucking tight. Relax for me baby, I know you remember having me in there. It’s only been a few months.” He leans down and kisses the side of your forehead.

“A-ah it’s been six months!” You let out a loud moan into the sheets below you as he bottoms out inside of you. He throws his head back in pleasure and grabs your hips, he grits his teeth as he resist the urge to immediately start pounding into you.

“Well then we have lots of catching up to do. L-let me know when you want me to move, I don’t want to hurt you.” He tells you, gently trailing his fingers up your back, needing some sort of distraction to prevent himself from fucking you like a wild animal.

“It’s okay” You lift your head up from the sheets and make eye contact with him in the mirror. He flashes you his bright smile and leans down to press a kiss to your lips. His hands make their way to your hips as his own start to form a steady rhythm. You grip the sheets as his tip kisses your cervix each time he fucks into you.

“Connie!” You gasp, your chest pressing down further into the mattress. Gripping the end of the bed like your entire life depends on it.

“Fuckkkk, missed this tight pussy so much baby girl.” He digs his nails into your skin and forces your ass back onto him. Your moans turn into whimpers as you feel your second orgasm creep up.

“‘m gonna cum papi, I'm coming.” You warn him, he picks up his thrust and rolls his hips as you come around him for the second time tonight. Your head falls down in exhaustion and you feel his hand wrap around your chin, forcing you to face the mirror.

“Is it too much baby? You know our safe word never changed?” He teases, his hips begin to pick up their pace, you cry out in pleasure the deeper he fucks into your cunt.

“N-no! I-I can ngh…I can take it.” You look at him in the mirror and he can’t help but bite his lip and tangle his hand in your hair. He’s got you flushed against his chest as he fucks you like it’s the last time he ever will.

“Yeah? You sure you can take all of me baby?” He pulls your head back more and smiles down at your fucked out expression, smashing his lips against yours passionately.

“We’ll see about that won’t we?” He pulls out of you and you whine in protest. You’re about to complain, but he quickly flips you onto your back and places each one of his arms next to your head so he’s looking down at you. You feel your face warm up at how intensely his brown eyes stare back into yours.

“I missed you.” You confess, rubbing your fingers up and down his tattooed arms.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and lifts one of your legs up, taking advantage of the new position and immediately pushing into you again. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and he finds himself fucking into you again.

“I missed you so much, sweet girl, so. fucking. much.” He groans between each thrust and you arch your back in pleasure, his tip immediately finds your g-spot and you feel a warm sensation build up in your lower belly.

Connie took your legs from around his waist and pushes your thighs up to your chest. You go to let out a loud moan, but are interrupted by Connie wrapping his ringed fingers around your throat.

“I know it feels good baby, but you’re gonna wake the boys up.” He gives you an evil smirk and picks up the speed of his hips. He parts your lips with his thumb and slides it between your lips.

You wrap your lips around his thumb and look up at him with teary eyes, holding back a scream as he continues his assault on your pussy.

The sound of heavy breathing and wet skin slapping against each other fills the room. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your jaw goes slack as Connie continuously pounds into your cunt.

“Look at you, my sweet girl. No one else can ever see you like this, entiendes?” He asks, you try and respond but are too fucked out to even form a proper sentence.

Connie's fingers tighten around your throat and his thumb finds its way to your overstimulated clit, he rubs quick circles on your nub and your eyes go cross.

“I asked you a question sweetie.” He leans your face down and forces you to look at him.

“Y-yo entiendo papi, o-only belong to you. Fuck fuck! papi I’m gonna come! P-promise I’m only yours! Ah fuck” You say urgently, your pussy clenches around his dick and you feel your climax approaching. This one definitely feels stronger and more intense than the other two.

Connie lets out a loud groan as your pussy clenches around his shaft, his hips start to lose their rhythm as he gets closer to his orgasm.

“Fuck yes that’s it cariña, I wanna feel you come all over me. Give me one more baby.” He bends down and presses a hard kiss to your lips, his hips buck into yours rapidly and he can’t hold on any longer.

“Fuck Y/N, voy a venir bebe! Want me to fill that sweet pussy up and put another baby in you? Think we should try for a girl this time, don’t you think?” You nod your head desperately, and he rubs your clit with his thumb again

You bite down on his bottom lip as your final orgasm runs throughout your body. Your eyes squeeze shut and all you can see is pure white, your entire body starts convulsing. Your essence shoots out and splashes against his abs, down both of your legs, and onto the bed sheets below.

You come so hard your pussy sucks Connie in deeper and he squeezes the skin of your thighs as he comes deep inside of you. He moans against your lips and you let out a sigh as you feel his come fills you up.

“You okay? You looked like you almost passed out.” He presses his forehead against your and smiles at you while you regain consciousness.

“Y-yeah I’m okay. Also, i feel like now is a good time to tell you that Tyler is a happily married man with no interest in me at all.” You inform him and he rolls his eyes.

“Happily married men can still want to fuck you if the oppurtunity allows.” He retorts and you hold back a laugh.

“Even gay men Connie?” You raise an eyebrow and the look on his face is absolutely priceless.

“Y’know there are in fact exceptions to the rule.” He mumbles into the crook of your neck.

“I really am sorry about you and Sasha.” You run your fingers over his hair and rub his cheek with your thumb.

“Don’t sweat it, she was right in the end and I just didn’t want to admit it. I’ve loved you since we were 16, just cause we break up doesnt mean I can just give up everything.” He leans on one hand and you sit up to kiss him in response

“I love you Connie, I want you to come back home with us. No more fighting okay?” He nods and pulls you into his chest, rubbing his hands over your back.

“No more fighting baby, I promise. From now on we’ll only argue about dinner, what movie to watch, and what outfits we’ll put the boys in.” He says jokingly, you laugh at his antics and nod in return.

“If it’s okay with you, I’m gonna pull out before you get me all excited again.” He warns, you whimper at the feeling of emptiness once he pulls out of you. Your eyes widen when his fingers take the place of his dick, you look at him in shock and he feigns innocence.

“Well we wanna make sure you get pregnant, right?”

…..

“Okay Mrs. Springer, when you feel the next contraction I want you to push as hard as you can.” The doctor says and you nod your and begin to push through the pain and pressure.

“There we go baby you got it! Keep going Y/N!” Connie encourages you, holding one of your hands in both of his.

A small cry breaks out into the air and the doctor guides your baby out safely, she holds the baby up and you fall onto your back.

“It’s a girl!” Connie exclaims and instantly bursts into tears, you can’t help but also shed tears as she’s laid on your chest.

Connie places multiple kisses all over your face and looks at the new baby in front of you.

“She’s gorgeous Connie, she’s so perfect.” You sniffle and giggle when you make eye contact with the small baby.

“She sure is, she looks just like her mama. My sweet little Cecelia.” You give him a large smile and nod in agreement.

“Cecelia is perfect, my little Cece.” You giggle at the nickname and rock the small girl in your arms as she whines.

“I love you Connie.” You say, rubbing your thumb over his cheek.

“I love you more, mi vida.”

Ari

#aot smut #aot #aot x black reader #aot scenarios #aot x reader #aot imagines #aot x female reader #connie x reader smut #connie springer

2K notes · View notes

mssainz · 4 days

Text

PART 4 | AFTER FIVE YEARS

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.

Warning: Angsty

AN: A little backstory about YN , a flashback from five years ago. Thank you guys. I appreciate all your comments. Let me know your reaction and if you wanna be added to the tag list. Love y'all!

It's done. You are now divorced. You are no longer Mrs. Sainz. You are sitting on the bed feeling empty, looking at the bedroom floor.

So what now?

You grabbed your phone on your side table and dialed your Mom's number. It took a few rings before your Mom picked it up.

“Mom, I'm going home.” Your mom didn’t say anything and hope you have a safe flight.

You didn’t wait for a second and immediately grabbed your luggage. You gently fold all your clothes and stuff them into your bag. You then went to the bathroom to grab your skin care products and other toiletries. After making sure that all your things are complete, you zipped and sealed your luggages. You saw the gold commitment in your ring finger and a shiny diamond one you got when you said yes.

“You two are way more expensive than filing a divorce,” You whispered and scoffed at yourself. You removed your necklace, then your rings, and made them as a pedant.

“Maybe, I can take you to an auction. Engagement and wedding ring from Carlos Sainz.” You let out a painful laugh before putting the necklace in your bag. Your finger feels strange without them, after wearing them for almost three years.

You put on the most casual outfit you can grab, a black trousers, white shirt, and a black cap. You also put on a face mask to hide your face. You don’t want any paparazzi following you at the airport. You just want to leave in peace and make a simple statement of your break up. Being questioned about what happened and explaining everything is the least thing that you wanna do. It feels like squeezing lime on your opened cut.

You arrived at the airport earlier than your scheduled flight. Gladly, there are only a few people in the vicinity. You sat down in the waiting area and unlocked your phone. You deleted Carlos' phone number and even blocked him in all of your social media accounts. Painful for you but you also deleted any contacts of his family, his father, mother, and even his siblings. You also unfollowed anything related to Formula 1. But you didn’t unfollow some of the drivers that you are close with.

After almost a day flight, you finally arrived. It feels great to be back in your home country. Your mom fetched you at the airport. She initiated some small talks on your way home but didn’t dare to mention anything about your divorce. She wants you, yourself to open up about it if you are comfortable to talk about the whole situation.

You proceed to your old room after getting out of the car. You and your mom brought your luggages in your room and began unpacking them. You opened your closet and saw your white coat hanging. It has your name with MD on it. “Emergency Medicine,” you whispered as you read what's on your coat. Warm tears started falling from your eyes.

“What did I do wrong, Mom? I gave up my career for him. I let this go to be with him. I chose another path of my life and tried to settle down, followed him to the other side of the world. How could he do this to me?” Your mom looked at you and stopped unpacking your bags. She is disheartened, staring at you sitting on the floor, hugging your knees. It is her first time seeing you cry and break down after everything that happened. She is actually worried about you as you didn’t show any tears when Carlos filed the divorcement papers, when you found out about your baby, and after everything. It’s like your emotions shut down. You were just filled with mixed feelings and couldn’t even process it as everything happened so fast.

She walks towards you and sits beside you. She didn't say anything, she knows that words are not what you need right now. You need ears, who can listen to you.

“I hate myself, Mom. I let myself be fooled by a man and I'm now fucking pregnant with his child. He doesn't even know, I'm having his own blood and genes. And I don't even know where to start with my life again. I have nothing left, Mom. I am such a mess,”

She can feel how broken you are. She hates seeing you cry and hate yourself for something you are not the one to blame.

“I sold all my properties in Madrid, even the coffee shop Mom. I can't go back there. I can't be in his hometown. I can't even bear the thought of breathing the same air he breathes. I can't Mom, I don't wanna.” Your voice is broken and so you are. Your words are nearly inaudible and your face is filled with glistening tears which can't seem to stop pouring. Your sorrow left you having difficulty catching your breath.

“He knows how cheating and lying was my last straw. He always knew that. He knows about Dad, what he did and how he left us, Mom. Why did he have to repeat the same history as he did? Why do I have to go through this again? Why do I keep catching men in my life kissing another woman? How can they put me in this position?” You are on the verge of hyperventilating from crying. Hence, your mom gently held your arms and made you face her eyes.

“Baby, look at me. Breathe, my love,” She started exhaling and inhaling with you to calm your nerves down and control the pace of your breathing.

“Mom, I don't know what to do. What should I do?” You asked her while she was wiping the tears on your cheeks.

“You don't have to do anything, my love. You don't need to know what you should do at the very moment. I just want you to take care of yourself. Just have a meal, take a shower, and rest. Mommy got you, okay? I always do.”

She pulled you into her arms to give you a safe space to cry. Her words gave you an inner peace, a reminder to take it slow. You don't need to know what the future holds for now.

“And stop saying you have nothing left. You have me, honey. You have this,” your mom said before putting her warm hand on your belly.

I have Cael. When I thought I had nothing left, I had him. He is the only one I can call my own.

YN'S Private Instagram Post

"my sunshine Sebastian Cael Sainz"

TAGLIST:

@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @openthenyoor01 @carlossainzbelongswithme @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @charlottef1 @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @wonderfulkawaii @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @bearryyy @mahii7 @mxdi0 @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @madkohi @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr @glai1023-blog @not-nyasa @jolixtreesunn @changetyre @thatsusbitch @distancedss @miarabanana @iawfwm @f1fanatic55 @taniamndez @voidsfics @jasminesacademia @ahahvalerie @a-beaverhausen @glow-ish @ccallistata

AN: Should YN put the necklace in an auction? Just kidding. Please unhide your accounts guys, I can't tag you if its hidden huhu. Thank youuuu!

next part

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x reader #formula one x you #formula 1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #afterfiveyears

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flamingpudding · 10 months

Text

The Ghost King is my Uncle Drabbles

A/N: The original this sorta ties too: Original One Shot

>>Masterpost

Shovel Talks

Constantine swore up a storm of course only mentally. It wasn't like he was going to voice any of his thoughts right now. Not when he was faced with the good damn Ghost King. All he wanted was to summon one of his contracted demons to gather some information and what did he get the fucking Ghost King.

"Trench coat! We meet again. You worked on your manners, I hope?"

"Of course your majesty." Well he didn't but he avoided the freaking bats like crazy.

"Well I gotta thank you. Well you and my In-Law that's busy and asked me to substitute for your call since we meet and before and so on." The Ghost King casually waved his hand in a dismissive manner before looking around with his eyes sparkling in recognition and it sent a shudder down Constantine's back. "You are giving me the perfect opportunity."

Did… did the Ghost King just pull out a green glowing sword from a fucking portal and why did he have that glint in his eyes? Constantine paled. Why did this have to happen to him?

"If you will excuse me for a moment. I need to look for a Kryptonian real quick. I will deal with your problem right after. Promise."

With that the Ghost King phased through the floor apparently in search of Superman who just happened to be in the watchtower today. Fuck. Constantine run out of the room in mild panic and pushed whoever was on communication aside as he dialed for the bats. The moment someone on their end pick up he didn't bother to explain anything and just shouted for one of them to get their fucking ass here as fast as possible or superman was going to be history!

Okay that might also have sent the people witnessing his panic into chaos but this was a fucking emergency.

It was only minutes later that Batman did indeed arrived together with Nightwing and Red Robin with the Zeta-Tube at the watchtower to bear witness to Superman getting cornered by the Ghost King with Constantine bound by echo-bindings for apparently having annoyed the Ghost King with his pleading to spare the Kryptonian.

"Now I am sure I don't have to repeat myself but, IF you ever hurt Baby Bat a fate way worse than the Soul Shredder and the Nightmare Realm will be the least of your problems. The last guy that hurt my family is still in there and I will gladly make you permanently join him."

A cough resounded and Danny turned his head, a bright smile on his face as he spotted his little nephew and two of the little babies.

"Baby Bat, Baby Menace and Baby Stalker! I will be done in a little bit!"

"Ghost Ki-"

"Uncle Danny."

Batman let out a suffering sigh as Nightwing and Red Robin snickered.

"Uncle Danny. Why are you threatening Superman?"

"Because Jazz forbade me to use the Soul Shredder on humans but Superman is not human so I am allowed to use it on him."

"Uncle Danny, why do you want to use the 'Soul Shredder'" -as a joke Nightwing used air quotes- "on the him in the first place?"

"Shovel talk."

Batman chocked and Red Robin spluttered as Nightwing had a hard time suppressing a laugh. Constantine and Superman gapped at the Ghost King.

"You… are threading him for shovel talk purposes? What even is the nightmare realm?"

"A place you don't want to be in. Very traumatic and perfect to externally punish anyone that hurts my family in any regard as long as I am allowed to dump them there."

There was an added barely hearable grumble of "I would have sent the Joker and Ra's in there long ago if Clockwork weren't such a stick in the mud about keeping the timeline straight and their roles and bla bla bla."

Red Robin did a double take. Did the Ghost King just admit that he would have liked to sent their rogues into a place that was most likely hell? Wait didn't he mention sending someone in there permanently earlier.

No one noticed Superman slowly inching away from the blade still pointed at him while the Ghost King's attention wasn't on him. Well the bats noticed but didn't react to it, deeming it safer for the Super.

"Uh you said you dumped someone permanently in there?" Red Robin tried to keep the attention on them.

"Well yea." The Ghost King casually shrugged, adjusting the blade so Superman could no longer inch away from him. "I looked away from the Ice Mirrors for a week and someone dared to hurt Moma Bat. Of course I was enraged and snatched that guy off the street to permanently drop him in there."

There was a beat of heavy silence. Batman under his cowl bluescreened especially with how casually Danny just admitted at having snatched up his parents murderer to punish the man. Well that explained why he never found the culprit.

"Now If you excuse me little Babies I am gonna finish this talk with the Kryptonian and make sure he knows what will happen if he hurts Baby Bat."

With this the Ghost King turned back to the rapidly paling Superman with a feral grin. The Birds sweat dropped as Batman was still not mentally present, his mind still working through the information.

"Think I would be able to borrow that sword?" Red Robin suddenly asked as Nightwing eyed Batman worringly. "He only said that Great Grandma forbade him to use it on humans. He never said we couldn't."

"Don't let Robin or Hood hear that." Nightwing said, even if he wanted to borrow it himself too. With B mentally still checked out he had to act as the responsible one. That wouldn't stop him from asking their Ghost Uncle later if he could borrow the sword anyway.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #fanfic #crossover #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #superman #john constantine #DPxDC #Ghost Uncle Danny #Shovel Talks #dc x dp fic #crackish #no beta wie die like danny #drabble

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se4son-of-the-witch · 3 months

Text

bold - matt sturniolo

in which matt shows you how much he missed you at a party

matt x fem reader !

a/n: help i want matt so bad

——————————————————————————

The party was finally dialing down after a few hours. You and Nick had been in the backyard, dancing with some random girls. "Nick, I wanna go inside. My feet hurt," you yell over the blaring music. He turns to look at you, giving you a nod. You grab onto his hand, leading him away from the crowd of people.

As you made your way back inside, you turned to look at Nick. “That was fun! You should really get up and dance with me more often.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, girl. I’m so stiff.” You playfully roll your eyes at him. “But thanks for the compliment,” he joked, making you laugh.

“I’m gonna go find Matt.” Nick gives you a nod before you walk away. Before you look for Matt, you stop at the fridge and grab a Dr. Pepper. As you make your way through the house, you spot Matt. He’s in the living room, sitting on the couch. He’s sitting next to Chris, who’s talking to someone.

He immediately sees you as you walk over. He gives you a little smile. You wave at him, returning a smile. You look around for a spot to sit, but there aren't any. You stand there awkwardly. He sees how your body language changes and motions for you to come over. He pats his lap, motioning for you to sit.

Your jaw drops a little. Matt usually doesn't do PDA, so for him to want you to sit on his lap is a bit of a surprise. You make your way over to him, gently sitting on his lap. You don't put your full weight on him, as you don't want to crush him. However, he wraps his arms around your waist, making you fully press into him.

Heat spreads throughout your body. You begin to relax, easing into his touch as he rests his head on your shoulder. "I missed you," he whispers. Your lips tug into a smile.

"Where have you been all night?" Chris interrupts. He’s sitting on the couch in front of you, Pepsi in hand. There are three empty cans on the table next to him, which makes you laugh.

"With Nick, shaking our asses out back," you joke. Matt shakes his head at you. You look down at him, his face scrunched up. "What?"

He looks up at you. "I just don't wanna imagine Nick shaking his ass." You let out a laugh, causing you to lean forward a little. Matt pulls you back into him, tightening his grip around your waist.

You take a sip from your can and then place it on the table next to you. "What have you been doing since I’ve been with Nick?"

"Oh ya know, just sitting on the couch. talking to Chris and whoever comes by," he explains. You nod at him. "But I wish you would have been here." He places an open-mouthed kiss on your shoulder, which sends chills through your body. You feel him smirk on your skin. "Did you like that?"

You scoff. "Don't get too full of yourself, Bernard." You turned your attention back towards Chris. "How many more Pepsis are you gonna have tonight?"

He thought for a moment. "At least two more." Your jaw dropped, which made him laugh. "I could be doing worse."

"Very true."

Matt moved his hands from your waist down to your thighs. He ran his hands up and down them, causing goosebumps to rise. He continued to place kisses on your shoulder. "Awful bold tonight, aren't we?"

"I just missed you," he said between kisses.

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader

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qqueenofhades · 4 months

Note

Hi! This question has been noodling in my head for a few weeks, and I’ve been really curious to hear your opinion. I’ve appreciated your very thoughtful commentary on the ways the online left in particular have hurt the real and concerted efforts that have been made to navigate through the Gaza war in support of Palestine. I’ve seen a lot of outrage online about Biden bypassing congress in order to make another emergency weapons sale to Israel, which does indeed read as counter to helping to the Palestinians facing endless and indiscriminate violence. I understand that you might not want to answer this ask, because the work that you already do in your life offline and the work that you do here on tumblr to respond to and explain these issues is exhausting enough. Thanks so much for your time and your thoughtful contributions! It’s always really helped me remember to slow down and think critically about the media I consume.

Because you have asked this thoughtfully and in good faith, I will return the favor and give you a careful and extensive answer to the best of my ability. However, obligatory top-of-post disclaimer that I will disable reblogs at the first hint of any wankery in the notes and I will not answer any follow-ups or secondary asks at this time (unless I decide to do so, but I engage with this topic sparingly, judiciously, and only in small doses, so don't count on it).

First, let me say that the moment, I disagree with substantial portions of how Biden is handling the two main foreign-policy crises (Ukraine and Gaza). In regard to Ukraine, I think he's backed off, taken his foot off the gas, and otherwise given Republicans ammunition to keep delaying or watering down a new aid bill, is refusing to disburse military aid packages from the $4 billion of funding remaining that was previously approved by Congress, hasn't sent long-range ATACMS and other critical military hardware that might bring the war to an end sooner, and is not (as of the moment, though recent reporting suggests this might change) pushing hard enough for frozen Russian assets to be transferred to Ukraine for military and/or humanitarian financial assistance. However, I am also aware (unlike, it seems, much of the left-leaning internet) that I am basing these judgments only on my personal impressions, on what is reported (or not reported) in the media (which has plenty of its own problems) and otherwise what is formed in my role as an ordinary American citizen without any kind of special, classified, high-level, or government access. I know nothing more than any of you, and I also know that a lot of what goes on behind closed doors does not appear on Political Twitter and/or the Washington Post or the Guardian or Daily Kos or whatever other aggregate sources of information I or any left-leaning person typically consumes. So it's highly possible (and this is my cautious academic instinct speaking) that I do not, in fact, have a full picture of events. There are also contributing factors that Biden cannot simply handwave aside, even if he did, say, dip back into the $4 billion pot in the meantime. Congress will need to pass a new funding bill for Ukraine aid and the MAGA Republicans have been enthusiastically blocking it to the point where Putin's cronies on Russian state TV praise them effusively for it. We all know about the Republicans and Russia's mutual love affair. So.

The same goes for Gaza, and even more because we have already had reporting about how the Biden administration is walking a behind-the-scenes tightrope in a number of seemingly impossible tasks: keeping the war from spreading to a larger theater, pressuring Netanyahu to dial down, y'know, the rampant genocide (when Netanyahu notoriously doesn't like Biden, was very close with Trump, and would be happy to keep the war going in order to boost Trump's chances of being re-elected and save Netanyahu himself from his own criminal prosecutions), and pursuing a complex policy toward the state of Israel that does not follow the antisemitic Western Online Left's fever dream of "Israel suddenly disappears overnight and falls into the ocean and all Jews die or disappear." We have had multiple credibly sourced reports about this. Blinken is back in the Middle East right now trying to keep the war from spreading. The US under Biden has criticized Israel's essentially empty policy document for post-war Gaza as not being remotely feasible (because it's so vague) and gone so far as to voice support for a two-state solution with Palestinian self-determination (which is itself quite radically different from previous administrations). However, they have also vetoed UN ceasefire resolutions and other essentially meaningless political theater (the UN as a whole has been ruthlessly exposed in the last few years for being completely useless) that are easy to gin up outrage about, and that's what the internet focuses on, rather than any of the other complicated actions taking place.

All of this is to say that no, in fact, I don't blindly support everything the Biden administration is doing in regard to either Ukraine or Israel right now, but I actually have a sense of real-world perspective about it and understand that there are certain immutable realities that we are working with and which will not be erased by some absolute jackasses yelling at Biden in a historically black church at the commemoration of an anti-black terrorist attack. Likewise, as I've said it before and I'll say it again, and as plenty of other people have noticed and pointed out, the Western left is using this as an orgy of pseudo-revolutionary fervor that focuses on using Hamas as a proxy for their own fantasies of violent uprising against their own governments. Because while yes, anti-zionism and antisemitism are two distinct things and represent different aims and goals, it's become more or less irrelevant in allegedly pro-Palestine Western leftist spaces. It's just increasingly rabid, accelerationist, and nihilistic antisemitism all the time, or the obvious usage of "Zionist" to mean "Jew." It's not good. There is no concept of actual restorative justice for Palestinians or other people, such as Ukrainians, Syrians, Uyghurs, Taiwanese, etc, either undergoing genocide or facing the threat of it, because Western leftists have latched onto this cause solely as a stick to beat the Democratic Party with and have no actual moral interest or concern in stopping genocide elsewhere in the world or repudiating it as a method overall. They just want the state of Israel (which they characterize as a "proxy state for white western colonialism" despite the many, many things historically, religiously, and politically wrong with that statement, because it means it now Contains the Right Buzzwords to Oppose It) to be destroyed altogether in the name of "opposing colonialism," but it really seems to be all about opposing Jews. Hmm.

Simply put, Biden is not ever going to pursue a policy of "let's totally abandon Israel tomorrow, never sell it any weapons or allow it to defend its own civilians, and agree that Hamas is actually a good representation or advocate for the Palestinian people" in the way a number of Western Online Leftists seem to think he should do. There is still the fact that Israeli civilians do exist and that Hamas has continued to launch missiles at them daily, inconvenient as that fact might be for the Hamas fanboys (and fangirls) who now populate much of what passes for Western leftist discourse spaces. (Either that or they don't care, because in their view, Israeli civilians are fully acceptable collateral damage by virtue of simply living in Israel in the first place, which -- yikes. Fucking yikes. That is all.) The number of people professing to be lifelong leftists who are Just Shocked at all the antisemitism, or thinking that any and all antisemitism is just artificially introduced into leftist spaces by bad-faith right-wing/Nazi psyops either has not spent any actual time around leftists, or (more likely) simply does not listen to what they openly say. The antisemitism is virulent, constant, and only getting worse. On the most basic level, regardless of the other difficulties around the founding of Israel as a state in 1948 and the fact that doing so on some of the most bitterly religiously, politically, ethnically, and culturally contested territory in the world for over two thousand years was always going to be a massive clusterfuck, the fact of its immediate post-Holocaust creation simply cannot be ignored the way many Online Leftists do. Israel exists because of the worst antisemitic mass murder in recorded history (and that's a high bar). That fact must be incorporated into any actual discussions about its right either to exist or to protect its own civilians. But this gets turned into "Israel exists only as a puppet state of white western colonialists" which is just bad on so, so many levels.

The collective Western Online Leftist feeling seems to be that Hamas are innocent and wronged freedom fighters who are begging for a ceasefire and the cruel Israelis aren't granting them one. This is not true. Hamas has rejected multiple ceasefire opportunities, and continued to launch missiles and retaliatory attacks, because they are terrorists and they do not want or represent any serious opportunity to negotiate in the framework of western liberal democracy. They are treated as helpless woobified blorbos by much of the Western leftist-leaning internet. They are not. In that case, Biden bypassing Congress to sell Israel weapons (which was just something like 100 million of artillery shells, which is not nothing but still not a huge systematic thing like, say, Reagan's Iran-Contra scandal) is not great. I do not support anything Israel is doing to Gaza. It is abhorrent. However, there are reasons for Biden to provide some limited amount of weapons to Israel without congressional approval that do not automatically and mindlessly equate to BIDEN SUPPORTS TOTAL GENOCIDE IN GAZA!!!!!!1 Especially when as I've said, the Online Leftists only care about stopping genocide when it fits their political self-righteousness, and absolutely not at all the rest of the time.

This is representative of the fact that Western Online Leftism has now completed its all-out descent into blind Noam Chomskyism. Chomsky has never met a "leftist" or "anti-Western" genocide he couldn't deny, excuse, or openly cheerlead (going all the way back to the 1970s and Pol Pot/the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia and going up to the minute with Russia/Ukraine and Israel/Palestine). Noam Chomsky is the leftist Henry Kissinger. His ethics and morals are equally abhorrent, he's just as willing to justify total genocide in the name of advancing his preferred political ideology, and while there were (justifiably) celebrations and gloating memes across Tumblr when Kissinger finally bit the dust, Chomsky's beliefs are replicated with slavish adoration in many other Tumblr spaces and spread in some form or another to the rest of the website, which now takes them as leftist gospel (and let's not even talk about Twitter). This represents my absolute frustration with the fact that Western Online Leftism has devolved to such a degraded, mindless, useless, and malevolent level that "cheerlead for any anti-western/Leftist TM terrorist group or state" is taken to be the be-all and end-all of their moral philosophy. Someone remarked that ISIS peaked too early; if they were still at the height of their powers today, they would have a legion of devoted white so-called progressive Twitter users shilling earnestly and angrily for them, and Christ, isn't that the fucking truth.

I know we live in a hard, frightening, complex, and difficult world, and it's hard to sort out what our moral responsibility and action should be at any given time, especially since the answer is always so frustratingly partial and incomplete. Nobody of basic good sense and decency wants to see Gaza leveled while the Israeli state continues to apply a number of violently cruel collective punishments even outside the actual daily bombing of civilians. But for the love of god, let's get rid of the idea that the continued mindless violence doesn't benefit Hamas (because it does; unsurprisingly, sympathy for their cause has soared in Gaza) as much as it does Israel, or that Hamas is some kind of benevolent peacemaker that is being thwarted by the cruel imperialist US/West. And going back to the incident that prompted you to send me this ask: white leftists have often and repeatedly demonstrated their withering disdain for black people, Democratic voters, "mainstream" Americans, and anyone else doesn't buy into the twisted tankie fantasy land where getting rid of Biden would somehow be a massive coup for social justice (by getting Trump, now openly announcing at every turn that he will be a dictator, back into office! Very praxis, much justice. Wow.)

In short: if you, a white person, stand up in Mother Emanuel AME -- one of the most sacred sites for Black churchgoers, who are indeed often heavily Democratic voters -- in the middle of a remembrance service for victims of white supremacist terrorism, after the Black pastor has asked you not to protest inside the church out of respect for the Black community coming together to relive its trauma -- just so you can heckle Biden and feel good about yourself, then Jesus Christ. You don't care about restorative justice for people of color, or literally any justice at all, much less "stopping genocide." You just want to use them as props for your Chomsky cosplay revolutionary fantasies and your sense of self-righteous superiority over literally everyone else, regardless of the real-world consequences. So I have no hesitation whatsoever in telling those people to get fucked. Often and repeatedly.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts #israel hamas war #russia ukraine war #history #long post

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darkeralmond · 10 months

Text

TYSM FOR THE REQUEST BABES I FINALLY GOT IT!!

Hopper’s Cove

Jeremiah Fisher x fem! Reader

synopsis: nicole leaves you and your friends in hopper’s cove after conrad texts belly someone romantic. you call jeremiah to pick you up and help which leads to something more.

warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, praising kink, making out, nipple play

word count: 2k

a/n: TYSM FOR THE REQUEST!! i’m so excited for speak now tv… ONLY A COUPLE DAYS!!!

masterlist | request info

A pair of car headlights shined on Taylor, Belly, and you as it pulled out of Hopper’s Cove. “What the fuck?” you yelled as you watched the car drive away, leaving the three of you stranded while naked in the lake.

Taylor swam over to the dock and pulled herself up. “They took everything!” She looked back at you and Belly with a look of distress on her face.

“What?!” Belly and you yelled in sync before swimming toward Taylor. You pulled yourself up and saw all your clothes were gone.

“The only thing they left was your phone,” Taylor said to Belly. She read the text plastered on the screen from Conrad which really incriminated Belly. Belly couldn’t help but crack a smile while Taylor read the semi-romantic text. “Belly! Focus!” Taylor hit her, causing Belly to snap out of whatever trance she was stuck in.

You thought about a solution while your friends argued. You knew there was one person to call and that was your best friend. “We have to call Jeremiah… and Conrad,” you said Conrad’s name like it was an afterthought. “They need to bring us our stuff.” You got your wet hair out of your face by tucking it behind your ear.

“No, I don’t want to start any more drama with Conrad.” Belly shook her head and frowned.

Taylor scoffed, “That doesn’t matter, Belly. We need to get our stuff back so we don’t get hypothermia.”

Belly continued to argue with Taylor about it, but you had already grabbed your phone and dialed Jeremiah’s number. He answered quickly, “Hello?” There was loud house party music blaring in the background.

“Jeremiah?” you said, your voice a bit shaky. “Nicole and her friends just left us in Hopper’s Cove while we were skinny dipping and she took all our shit.”

“Like what?” Jeremiah replied, obviously confused and concerned by the story you just gave him. “Are you okay? Who’s with you?”

“She took our clothes! I’m with Taylor and Belly.” You looked over at the two girls who listened intently. “Please hurry with our stuff.”

“I’m on the way,” Jeremiah said before hanging up. You put the phone down and looked over at the girls.

“He’s heading over,” you said, nodding at the girls. Taylor had a look of relief on her face while Belly still looked worried.

Jeremiah and Conrad’s cars pulled up to the cove, their headlights spotlighting you. “Y/N!” Jeremiah yelled as he sprung out of his car and ran toward you guys. “Holy shit, are you okay? What happened?” He leaned down to your level.

You shook your head. “Too much to explain right now.” He frowned as he stared into your eyes, your glossy eyes. It made him feel sick.

“Nicole gave me these,” Conrad said as he placed the clothes on the deck.

Taylor squinted her eyes and glared at Conrad. “We wouldn’t have been in this mess if you had just left Belly alone.” He didn’t say anything after that, he just frowned and stepped away. “Can you two turn around?”

Taylor’s words pulled Jere away from the intense eye contact between you two. “Yeah, of course!” he said, immediately getting up from his spot and turned away with Conrad.

The three of you got out of the pool and threw on your clothes. The dry cloth stuck to your wet body as you put on your shorts and shirt. Once the other girls finished, you said, “Okay. We’re good.”

They turned back around, now acting really awkward. Jeremiah cleared his throat and approached you. “How’s the driving situation gonna go?” he asked.

“Uh,” Belly spoke up. “We could ride with Conrad.” She glanced over at Taylor when she said that. Taylor glared at Belly when she said that, obviously not wanting to go. Belly muttered something to her which caused Taylor to roll her eyes and agree.

You looked up at Jere and smiled softly, “I can ride with you… if that’s fine with you.”

He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into a side hug. “Of course it’s fine.” He pulled away and looked up at Conrad, Taylor, and Belly. “We’ll meet you guys at the house.”

The group of three got in Conrad’s car and drove off while you and Jeremiah hopped into his car. He leaned back against the seat before looking over at you with a soft expression. “Now can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

You cleared your throat and let out a small hum. “Uh, yeah.” Your eyes trailed away from his. You couldn’t keep eye contact with him, it was nearly impossible.

Moments like these made you feel like you were incredibly vulnerable. Like any small move could really mess up this entire friendship between you two.

You cleared your throat, focusing on the lake in front of you. “Conrad texted Belly about how he really wanted to ask her to the deb ball and not only because Susannah told him to.” You looked back at him and frowned.

He let out a scoff and looked off to the lake as well. “Sounds like Connie,” he responded. He ran his fingers through his blonde curls and looked back at you. “So she took all your stuff because of that?”

You nodded your head and let out a small exhale, “It’s stupid. I didn’t expect her to be such a snake.” This won a laugh out of him which made a smile grow on your face. “Thank you for coming.” You looked down at your lap where you fiddled with your thumbs.

“Why wouldn’t I come?” he asked. “You’ll always have me.”

This sent a chill down your spine as you perked your head up. The way he said this sounded different than the other times he did. “What do you mean?” you asked. You didn’t know what made this feel different than the other times before.

His expression turned into a shocked one, you swore you could’ve seen his face dusted with blush. “Oh, well…” he started. “You know… I care about you a lot and… yeah!”

A smile played on your lips as you furrowed your eyebrows. “Jeremiah Fisher, are you blushing?”

He rolled his eyes and looked away. “Shut up!” he laughed. “Yes, I am.” He looked back at you and smiled softly. You met his gaze, listening to the loud pounding of your heart in your ear. “Y/N,” he said, “I really like you. Like… I love you.”

Your eyes widened as your mouth dropped open slightly. His confession caught you completely off guard. Jeremiah loved you? Was he serious? “Really?”

“Definitely,” he said as he reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. A warm feeling crept through your veins and onto your cheeks. Now you were the one blushing.

“Jeremiah, I…” You closed your mouth and looked down at your hands as you rubbed circles onto his hand with your thumb. After taking a deep breath you turned back up to him with wide eyes and spoke very quietly. “Me too. I like you too.” Your cheeks flushed and you smiled a bright smile.

A smile spread on his face as he leaned over to place a kiss on your lips. You kissed him back, your eyes fluttering shut. His lips tasted so sweet and you were giddy at the sensation.

His hand left yours and made its way down to your upper thigh. You broke away from the kiss out of shock before glancing down at his hand back to his eyes.

In the heat of the moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Jeremiah. I want you to be my first.” His blue eyes pulled that out of you, and you were a bit embarrassed.

His eyebrows raised as his eyes widened. “Your first…?” He blinked a couple times in disbelief. “You mean…?”

You nodded your head. “Yes.” You grabbed his hand off your thigh and gripped onto it tightly. “Please?” you begged. You batted your eyelashes playfully as you stared into his eyes. You waited for his answer as he processed everything.

Slowly but surely, his face turned a deeper shade of red. He seemed hesitant to say yes to you, but eventually he did. “Okay.”

You nodded your head. “Okay.” You placed another kiss on his lips, this one more heated and passionate. You unbuckle your seatbelt while your lips continue to stay locked with his. You pulled away and crawled over the seat as he leaned back in the driver seat.

You straddled his lap and looked down at him, your hands now rested on his upper chest. He glanced down at your shirt before pulling his shirt off. You followed him and revealed your white bralette.

He stared at your body in awe, his hands slowly coming up to grope your breasts. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” This caused your face to turn a deep shade of red as he snaked his hands around your back and unclasped the bra.

Your nipples hardened as his fingers grazed against your cool, damp skin. He placed kisses on your body before locking his lips around one of your nipples.

A quiet moan escaped from you as you tilted your head to the side. His hands trailed down to your lower back as he placed kisses on your boobs. “Jeremiah.” You mewled, grabbing his hair gently. He moaned into your skin when he heard you speak his name.

“You sound so sexy when you say my name,” he mumbled. You shook your head and giggled lightly as he sucked on your right nipple.

He gave quick licks against your bud which drove you mad, but it wasn’t enough for you. “Jere,” you whimpered. “Stop teasing!”

“But you sound so sexy when you say my name…” he whispered, kissing the tip of your right breast. You bit your bottom lip and clenched your fists in his blonde locks. “Hurry up, Jeremiah.”

He giggled at your whines, but gave into your requests. He pulled away and unbuckled his belt, sliding his pants and boxers down just enough for him to palm his dick in his hand. You slid down your shorts and panties, looking at him with anticipation. “Are you on anything?” he asked.

You nodded your head, “Plan B.”

“Okay,” he answered and looked down at his erection. “You ready?” he asked softly.

“God, yes. Yes, please,” you replied.

With a smirk on his face, he aligned himself with your entrance. He inserted himself inside you, causing a gasp to fall from your lips. You rocked your hips back and forth at a steady pace.

He groaned at your movement, his hands held onto your hips to guide you. “Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good. So perfect…”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you moved your hips faster against him. You held back a small moan as a tightness began forming in your core. As quickly as it came, the pain disappeared, leaving behind a warm feeling instead.

You opened your eyes and focused them on Jeremiah. He had his eyes closed with a satisfied look etched across his features. His breaths were heavy, he didn’t hesitate to pull his pants down, he must’ve been really turned on.

Your movements began slowing down. Your hips still moved rhythmically to give him an amazing time. He groaned at how close he felt you getting to your orgasm. He tightened his grip on your hips. “Just cum, Y/N. Come on.”

Your eyes rolled back as you released a high pitched moan. Your muscles tensed up as you squeezed your eyes shut tighter than before. You had never felt more pleasure in your life as you came.

You opened your eyes again once you felt the last drop fall. Your eyes went wide and you let out a soft gasp. “Holy fuck, Jeremiah…”

He smirked before placing his forehead against yours. “You did so good,” he grinned.

He brought both of his hands up to your face, cupping both of your cheeks. Before he pressed his lips against yours quickly.

When he pulled away, he asked, “You ready to go? Conrad and them are probably worried we died or something.”

“Yeah,” you giggled. You got off him and sat back down in the passenger seat. You checked your phone and saw that Belly and Taylor had been blowing up your phone.

#jeremiah fisher x y/n #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher smut #jeremiah fisher #team jeremiah

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bunnyreaper · 7 months

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𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 3 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 7.2k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, hints of petplay, mild public play notes - part 3 kind of ran away from me, if you can't tell from the word count!! i had a lot of fun with this one, so i hope you enjoy! also on ao3! ♥

Life was teaching you early on in this budding relationship that life without Johnny drags.

The first day or two he was gone wasn't so bad. Before he'd even left the country, he'd sent you an incredibly drool-worthy photo of him in his fatigues. You've spent more time looking at it over the past week or so than you probably should've—fixated on the size of his arms, the confident pose, and the mic set around his neck.

The sight of that alone sent your thoughts reeling—and was the part you'd zoomed into on the most, beside Johnny's handsome face.

Then came the voice note, the one you've been listening to on repeat—addicted to Johnny's words and voice. Finally, you have it captured to listen back to on demand. He'd sent you other voice notes since, shorter ones with "I'm thinking about you." or "Just met a street cat, his collar said his name is Halim!" with a photo accompanying it.

Those made your heart sing, and your smile wide, but the last one he sent was him explaining he'd be going dark, and he'd message again whenever he could.

That had been over a week ago now, and the radio silence left your nerves on edge, frayed and tested as you waited for any sign.

Some sense of salvation had come in the form of an after-work drinking session that turned into a full-blown night out—it was a welcome distraction and an oasis of general socialisation after your desert of solitude.

You were dressed up nice, getting a little tipsy and dancing the night away—only checking your phone as you pulled it out to pay for a drink.

The missed call notification has you rushing to down the drink, so you can head out the back of the club. As soon as the pounding music fades away, you're pressing the phone to your ear and listening to the dial—it feeling tortuously slow as you wait for Johnny to pick up with every ring. Just before it goes to voicemail, his voice is blessing your ears once more.

"Hey, pretty girl." He greets, his voice seemingly as bright as always.

"Johnny!" You all but squeal in excitement, a heady combination of missing him and the effects of the alcohol making your enthusiasm bubble over.

He laughs, slow and sweet, as warmth spreads through your chest. "Missed me that much, aye?"

You missed him far too much considering the current state of your relationship, but even in your intoxicated state, you know to keep that mostly to yourself. "Missed you so much!" You giggle, moving further away from the door as a group of people join you out back—cigarettes hanging from their fingers.

"Missed you too. Where are yer?" Johnny asks, clearly hearing the commotion in the background.

"I'm out with some people from work, but I'll go home right now, I swear—"

Johnny cuts you off before you can even finish your offer. "Don't you dare, lass, enjoy your night. I just wanted to let you know I'm back, tha's all."

Hearing from him was such a relief, and you are so glad he called—though now you don't want to stop talking again. "Does that mean we can meet soon?" You ask—voice light, flirtatious, and most importantly hopeful.

"I was thinking Sunday if that works for yer?"

"Making me wait again, Sergeant?" You practically twirl your hair around your finger as you tease him, smiling unreservedly as you hold the phone to your ear.

"Keep talking like tha' and I'll come down there right now." His growl is playful, but you can tell using his rank has some sort of effect on him.

You pull your lip between your teeth, giggling once more and flushing with need. "Do it, I dare you." You taunt.

Johnny's sigh is a little defeated, his tone a little tired and flat compared to usual."I cannae, still got things to wrap up. Tha's why I said Sunday and not tomorrow, sweet thing."

You relent with your joking, not wanting to keep up with teasing when Johnny seems a little... low. "You're worth the wait." You whisper into the phone, soft and sincere—you hope that makes him smile at least.

"We'll sort out the details tomorrow, yeah?"

You nod, even though he can't see it. "Sounds good."

He perks up a little bit, even if it sounds somewhat forced. "Feel like doing me a favour before you get back to yer friends?"

"Anything." Your answer is instant, especially if it would cheer him up right now. Coming back from the things he must see has to be hard, and you can't blame him for continuing to be affected by it. Is that why he needed an extra day? To decompress and adjust back to being Johnny instead of a sergeant in the army?

"Send me a picture of your outfit." The sentence lands somewhere between a question and a command—though you had every intention of complying anyway.

"Yes sir." You answer instinctually, not putting too much thought into it until you hear Johnny's growl in response. The kind of growl that ignites something deep within you every time you hear it.

His voice is low, rumbling down the phone with a hint of playful warning. "Bonnie..."

"Sorry." You laugh lightly, before turning more sincere. "I'm glad you're safe, Johnny."

The line is silent for a moment, just long enough for you to worry you've said the wrong thing, but as always, Johnny washes away your doubt. "I'm glad you waited for me."

"Of course." A shiver passes over you, the night air making you want to retreat back inside. You wrap an arm around yourself as you brace yourself from the cold. "Talk tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, for definite. Have a nice night, angel." His wish is sincere, the softness in his voice something you'll replay over and over again.

"Night, Johnny."

You wait for him to end the call before you rush back into the club, beelining straight for the bathroom to snap a picture just for Johnny. The dress isn't your usual clubbing outfit, having come straight from work, but you look cute, and you feel confident as you send the picture straight to Johnny.

The next day drags even more than the last few have, especially with the mild hangover thundering your skull. Every part of the day is just about going through the motions, getting through it, so you're one minute closer to seeing Johnny. Every moment is a little dull, until you find yourself waiting for him at the exit of the train station.

The excitement and the nerves wage war inside you—with each passing second, you're getting closer and closer to being swept up in Johnny's arms, to hopefully feeling like you're finally home. But with each second, you're inching closer to vulnerability, to risk, to the possibility that somehow he might decide after today that he never wants to see you again.

Maybe he'll look at you and realise he doesn't quite like your body, or the way your mouth moves when you talk. Maybe he'll hate your mannerisms, or find that in person you're actually really boring to talk to. Perhaps he'll just know within moments of meeting you that you'll never be his home, never be his.

The thought is terrifying, crawling around the back of your mind as you scan every passing face in the hopes of seeing the silly little mohawk you long to run your fingers through.

And when you do, the world stills.

You spot him before he spots you, and you get a moment to appreciate his searching gaze, his quietly confident swagger, the way his denim jacket stretches over his shoulders, and his shirt clings to his stomach.

In short, he's a vision. All man—big and strong and beautiful. It takes everything within you to not launch yourself into his arms as soon as he gets close.

He continues to look around as he makes his way through the ticket barriers, glancing between the crowds and his phone as he makes his way closer and closer. You emerge from your hidden spot, your legs carrying you without hesitation over to him—and when your eyes meet, you both stop completely still for just a moment. Nothing but wide smiles on your faces and a magnetic pull that draws you together.

The bodies in between you are a hindrance, a barrier you both need to be gone as you weave through them before finally standing before each other—and at that moment everything feels right.

"Wow." Johnny says as he looks you up and down and drinks all of you in.

"Wow yourself." You giggle, checking him out just the same and adjusting to just how much more handsome he is in person—as if such a thing were possible. "Hi Johnny." Even you are surprised by how breathless you sound, but it makes perfect sense when you consider how fast your heart is beating, how your hands are starting to shake.

"Think I must be dreamin'" He blinks in disbelief, unable to keep the radiant, infectious smile off of his face.

You blush deeply, and find you can no longer meet the intensity of his eyes. "Flatterer." Your word is a whisper as you push yourself to your tip toes and wrap your arms around Johnny's neck, pulling him in for a hug.

His strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you close, tightly enveloping you in a serene feeling of safety, as well as his fresh, masculine scent.

Home. You think it's the closest you ever felt to it, bundled up in his arms as he cradles you like you're the most precious thing on earth to him.

His hands roam over your back, caressing you so delicately and savouring every bit of you, as your own hands thread around the back of his neck, and you sink your fingers in, grasping him to ground yourself in the moment. It's real, he's real, and being in his arms feels so right it almost hurts.

"You're even more gorgeous in person, bonnie." He whispers in your ear, breath hot and sending shivers all over your body. Thank god he's holding you upright, as your entire being is so vulnerable right now to every sensation.

He pulls away slightly, but keeps you close, his eyes returning to yours once more, looking at you like you're everything.

"I could say the same about you." You giggle, feeling self-conscious beyond belief. "Your eyes..." They're so blue, two oceanic pools of deep emotion, pulling you under the longer you stare.

Everything you feel is reflected in his eyes—hope, bliss, excitement.

"Grew them maself." He laughs, his nose wrinkling as he laughs at his own silly joke.

He has you captivated entirely, as you drink in every single feature on his face—the strong brows, the scar on his lips, the dimples hidden behind his stubble. Every detail makes your heart thump against your rib cage, makes you want to reach out and trace your fingers over every little thing you discover.

You're snapped out of your reverie when someone's bag brushes past you, and you remember you're in the middle of a train station, blocking people's way.

"We should move out of the way."

"Aye." He nods, slipping an arm around you so as to not lose contact as the two of you shuffle out of the path of the commuters. "Fuck. Am not letting you go now."

His grip tightens around you as he pulls you in once more, hands settling on your waist as he stares down in adoration.

"Good." You can't help the smile on your face, so big and bright your cheeks hurt from how unwavering it is—that's just the feeling Johnny inspires.

This time, it's him who seems affected by your gaze, as he averts his eyes from yours. "'s a bit weird, though." He admits, a strange shyness to his tone.

Nothing about Johnny right now would suggest he's anything even close to nervous or uncomfortable, but you figure a man like him is very good at masking how he really feels. Your hands slip to his chest, your thumbs rubbing soothingly back and forth as you try to project a sense of calm to soothe you both.

"Have you never done this before?" You ask, curiosity brimming but with no underlying judgement.

"No." His cheeks begin to redden as he glances at you briefly, a rare display of shyness from the seemingly endlessly confident man. "Don't laugh, it's ma first time."

You continue your soothing gesture as you speak from the heart.

"I wouldn't laugh! I have done this before, and I'm still so fucking nervous." Said nervousness escapes you in the form of a clipped laugh. "... If it wasn't obvious from the blushing and shaking."

Johnny made you nervous, and yet peaceful all at the same time. His pull was irresistible, concrete, even if you stumbled to him on shaky legs. You knew what he might be feeling right now, if his heart was anything like yours.

"Oh, am sweatin' a tonne right now, if ya cannae tell." His laugh and smile are almost disgustingly sweet, along with his unbracing honesty. Johnny really is something else, you think.

You step away from him, intertwining your fingers into his much larger hand, as you start to lead the way out of the train station. "Better get you out into the fresh air then."

The two of you walk in comfortable silence across the short distance until you're hit with the sun's warmth and a blast of cooler air. You start walking into the city centre, aiming to wander around for a little to kill time.

As you walk, Johnny's grip tightens, and his hips sway playfully into your own, nudging you only to pull you back to his side with a bright grin on his face. "Meant what I said about not letting go of yer hand."

"Keep it, it's yours." You squeeze back, looking up at Johnny to see him observing his surroundings keenly—must be a soldier thing, you muse. "Do you come here much?"

"A little. Usually kept pretty busy back on base." He answers, glancing at you before taking in more of the area.

"Well, I guess you'll be getting familiar." You nudge his hips, returning his earlier playfulness as you flirt with him unashamedly.

His eyes are fixed on you now—a brow raised and a mirthful smile on his face at your assumption.

"Oh, will a now?"

"I hope so." You admit sincerely, feeling the heat in your cheeks. If you keep smiling as much as you have so far, the expression will be permanently etched onto your face. "But that'll be more, so after we see the kitties. Our slots in 20 minutes, right?"

"Aye, you excited?" He looks at you as if to confirm your true reaction, his eyes searching.

"I am, honestly I was expecting just a normal coffee date but as soon as you suggested it, I couldn't let it go." You're practically rambling, but honestly, Johnny's suggestion was perfect. First, it let you know he enjoyed, or at least was at ease around cats, which was always a green flag. Plus, it was something different, catered to the two of you that shows he'd been thinking about it, and who wouldn't swoon at that?

And on the off chance there was an awkward silence where you didn't know what to do, at least you had furry friends for you both to pay attention to.

His eyes flicker with doubt for a moment, before he masks it with a distracting smile. "Was worried it might be a bit naff."

If only he knew how much you had been freaking out about how cute you found the whole thing—and the fact that he might as well have just straight up said it was the beginning of your new dynamic together. You'd be his pet, the whole thing made perfect sense. "If it is naff, it'll only be because I might get jealous."

"Ach, why?" He asks, seemingly finding the idea of you needing to ever feel such a thing ridiculous.

You look up at him with soft, pleading eyes and a playful pout on your lips. "Well, you'll be giving all the cats head pats, but will you have any for me?" Even the tone of your voice is designed to tug at his heartstrings, slipping into your role so naturally.

"I'll always have some for you, kitty." He laughs, letting go of your hand just to ruffle at your hair until you playfully shove him away—then he's grasping at you again, not wanting to relinquish contact for even a second.

"Besides, they get to wear collars and flaunt it right in front of me. Don't they know what they're doing?" A suggestive smirk is directed at him, which he eagerly returns.

"Oh, you'll be in one before you know it, bonnie." He drops this news so casually, like it's the most natural thing in the world— as if the two of you are just having a regular conversation "We'll come again, make them jealous right back."

You swallow thickly, already aching for that eventuality—even if it may be a ways away.

"Sounds like a date." You mumble, filled with shyness and need. Coughing, you take a moment to compose yourself and steer the conversation away from something that will send your thoughts spiraling. "I did look through the website to see what kind of cats they had, and there's a cat with your name, different spelling though."

Johnny pulls you closer, head dipping slightly to talk close to your ear, his tone dropping to a dangerous low. "Now I'm gonnae be the jealous one."

His words make you shiver, make it difficult to keep walking like everything is fine—but you can flirt just like he can. You look up at him, fluttering your eyelashes prettily as you smile so sweetly. "I've only got eyes for one Johnny, don't worry."

The blush that rises to his cheeks tells you that your act had the desired effect.

"That's what I like tae hear." He mumbles, squeezing your hand in an affectionate gesture.

After wandering the high street for a short while and just enjoying each other's company, you circle back to your destination. The two of you enter the café, kick off your shoes (or boots for Johnny), and are seated at a table toward the back of the room— just a little out of sight from everyone else. You order a tea, while Johnny orders a flavoured coffee, giving you an insight into his tastes and preferences that makes you smile.

You remind yourself to keep that information in mind for later, filing it away under your list of things about Johnny that you're sure will only expand throughout the day.

When the server leaves the table, the two of you look upon each other fondly—shy smiles and burning cheeks. There are so many words at the tip of your tongue, so many things you want to say and ask and know about the man before you—as your brain buzzes with energy, so do your hands, feeling a little lost now they're no longer connected to any part of his body.

It's easy to tell that Johnny sees more than he lets on, as he observes you before him and seemingly filters through your thoughts.

You return the favour and watch Johnny intently—eyes fixated as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, as his throat bobs as he swallows, and your brain is invaded with a deluge of inappropriate thoughts.

Luckily, you're saved by the bell—a little tinkling noise from a cat beside you as it walks on by and demands your attention with a haughty meow.

"Look, there's Jonny!" You gasp quietly, the cat just a few feet away staring at you curiously. Taking it slow, you lower your hand to the ground and make no move toward the cat, waiting for it to get a smell and a feel for you. It isn't long before the cat in question is launching himself into your lap, drawing delighted laughs from both you and Johnny.

You run your fingers through the thick fur of the white longhair, figuring out what spots the cat likes most.

"He likes you." Johnny comments with amusement, shuffling ever so slightly closer until your thighs touch—his arm slips around the booth seat behind you as he settles in.

Your eyes meet his, your skin prickling with the intensity of his closeness. "Hopefully like the human version."

"Definitely." The arm around the back of the seat comes to settle on your shoulders, as Johnny slowly moves his hand over to the cat and lets him sniff his fingers. Johnny's eyes brighten unmistakably when the feline nuzzles against his hand, and then he breaks out into a mischievous grin. "D'ya think he's cuter than me?"

Johnny tilts his head to the side, almost puppylike as he preens at your attention—your eyes roaming over him as if you're making a difficult choice.

"Hmm. He has a lot more hair than you do, but I think you win." You give cat Jonny another stroke, while you smile at human Johnny with glee. "I'll have to feel how soft your hair is to make a real decision, though."

You say it mostly as a joke, but Johnny looks sincere as he urges you to do it. "Go on."

You raise your hand, panic flowing through you as you hesitate for a moment—your fingers hovering inches away from Johnny's head. He leans into your touch, as you stroke through the short tufts of hair. "It's... so soft." You admit, pulling away quickly before you get carried away.

"What did yer think it was gonna feel like?" Johnny asks with a barked laugh that you can't help but return.

You crinkle your nose, because honestly, with the fact he clearly uses styling products to make his mohawk stand on end, you hadn't expected it to feel as soft and pleasant as it did. "I don't know, I can't imagine you have premium shampoo and conditioner in the army."

"They're just naturally luscious locks, dinnae what to tell yer." He swishes his head playfully, as if he's flipping a head full of hair.

"Effortlessly flawless, just like the rest of you." You tease him, joining in the joking.

"Oh aye?" He asks with a wink, playfully fishing for more compliments.

Not that he needs to fish, you think. Surely Johnny knows how handsome he is, and even before meeting him, you've gushed over his good looks.

Still, you look upon him with genuine admiration and rapidly unfolding infatuation, you're exalting words tumbling freely from you without much thought. "You're just so... gorgeous, godlike, really."

"As are you, bonnie. Cannae believe it." The look in his eyes is so real, so intense it makes your heart twinge, and leaves no room for you to doubt the sincerity of his words.

The two of you continue to stare into each other's eyes, enjoying the silent conversation that seems to pass between the two of you—the unspoken desire and adoration.

"Are we just gonna spend the day staring at each other?" You giggle, breaking the moment when it becomes a little bit too intense for you.

"Wouldnae be such a bad thing." Johnny replies swiftly, ever so smoothly.

Jonny the cat takes that moment to crawl off your lap, rubbing himself along Johnny as he all but demands pets from the man. Johnny indulges him instantly, large fingers scratching at that perfect point between the kitty's ears. Watching it shouldn't make you blush as much as it does.

"I think he likes you too."

Johnny nods, a serious look on his face. "He knows we're chums."

"You must give really good head pats." You tease, wishing you could take the words back as soon as you said them. Was saying such a thing too much too soon? Was it too early to start to invoke elements of your potential future dynamic?

Johnny meets your eye, his lips curling into a smirk as his eyes turn mischievous. "Wanna find out?"

"Of course." Your response is instant, breathless—already offering yourself up to the man before you. You quickly remember your manners. "Please."

Johnny lets the cat on his lap jump down before he turns his attention to you fully, his hand settling on top of your head as he gently, carefully caresses you. Your body is quickly overwhelmed with shivers, an electric sensation coursing through you as his fingers dip deeper into your hair, massaging at the back of your neck until your eyes start to slip shut from the sheer bliss.

They shoot back open when his fingers dip the chain on your neck, tugging sharply enough to get your attention without putting any real force behind it.

He leans in as if to share a secret, his smirk wolfish as you continue to react so perfectly to his touch. "Nice choker, by the way, pet."

"Wore it just for you." You whisper, words weak as you tremble with so much need for Johnny.

He's pulling back, taking all his warmth with you, before he strokes through your hair one more time. "That's my girl."

You could burst into flames right now, or simply melt under the intensity of his gaze. Not even an hour into date one, and you can already feel how wet this man has made you, how much he makes your heart call out to him. Your body and soul burn with need, already wanting more of him in every way.

"Fuck." You sigh in frustration, burying your head into his shoulder to hide your aroused expression. "I hate that there's so many people around right now."

"Feeling naughty?" He chuckles in such a knowing way, because he knows exactly what he's doing and how you feel about it.

You meet his gaze, eyes desperate and pleading for mercy. "Johnny, I feel drunk and mindless already and you haven't even actually done anything."

He moves one of your hands from your thigh to his, holding onto it for a moment. He won't offer you mercy, but he will at least let you see how you make him feel too. "Can I borrow your hand?"

"Why?" You ask reflexively, before your thoughts catch up to you. Oh. Oh!"

You allow him to move your hand further up his thigh until your fingers graze over the hardness in his jeans, and you have to stifle your gasp with your other hand.

"Why am letting the cats come to me insteada the other way around." He whispers, voice gravelly and strained.

The feelings both his words and his body inspire in you are dangerous, causing you to act as you palm at his cock through his jeans, listening to the hitches in his breath as you begin to stroke and caress. He's rock solid, all before you even laid a hand on him, and it's addicting to you that he's clearly in just as deep as you are—that he sees all this as you do.

His hand moves to grab at your wrist, warning but not painful. "Ach, quit it." He groans, now on the receiving end of such wonderful torture.

"You started it." You whine, taking the chance to grasp him one more time before you stop your teasing. "Johnny you're fucking huge."

Already your head spins just contemplating it, but Johnny only adds to your delirium.

"Wait until it's stuffin' yer little cunt full." He purrs, lips brushing against your skin as he does, and you have to resist the urge to moan aloud.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to pull away from Johnny as you slip out of the booth. "Okay, I need a breather, join me at the cat tree when you've... calmed down."

His smile is devilish, as he watches you go, content to spectate from afar as you coo over the kittens until he can join you.

Your time at the café passes quicker than either of you would have liked, and when it's time for you to vacate your table, the server approaches once more with a bill for the teas and coffees you had enjoyed.

"Will you be paying together or separately?" They ask, which causes you to glance at Johnny questioningly.

You'd already, in your mind, prepared yourself to offer one or both halves of the bill.

Johnny speaks before you can. "Together." He insists, reaching for his wallet and offering his card to the server—not allowing any room for argument.

You stay silent until the transaction is complete and the two of you are alone again, before you decide to address it. "Johnny... I would've paid."

He shakes his head, flipping his wallet shut as he slips it into his back pocket. "Don't be ridiculous."

You open your mouth to offer further protest, but his brows quirks as he almost challenges you to say another word.

Accepting defeat, you smile graciously and sincerely. "Thank you."

"My ma would pitch a fit if she found out I let yer pay." He continues to wave it off like it's nothing. "Let me spoil yer, aye? You'll hafta get used to it anyway. Okay, kitty?"

You're not sure if it's the idea of him spoiling you or the nickname that makes you shiver the most, but the combination of both makes your head spin.

"I better start thinking of ways to repay you." You joke, throwing him a flirtatious wink as your hand snakes under his jacket to stroke at his chest.

Johnny pulls back, face flashing with a realisation and a bright grin. "Oh, before I forget."

You watch him, just a touch confused, as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small, patterned paper bag—he hands it straight to you. "Got yer a little somethin'"

"Johnny..." You groan playfully, having not expected a gift, or having brought anything for him either.

"It's nothin', promise." He smiles, encouraging you to open it.

You peel open the paper bag to find a handmade, woven bracelet inside—one you've seen in countless stalls across your life, but the sight doesn't fail to make your heart sing.

"Oh my god, a friendship bracelet?" Your delighted gasp is genuine, as you feel touched by the gesture.

"Needed to buy something at a souvenir shop. Y'know blend in, look like a tourist." He shrugs casually. "Thought of you."

"I love it, thank you." You clutch it to your chest, genuinely so pleased. "Did you get yourself one?"

"No?" Johnny plucks the bracelet from you, as he takes hold of your wrist and gets to tying the threads together.

You pout, half joking and half serious, as you realise you won't be matching. "Wow, guess we're not friends then."

"Puppy." His tone is warning and serious, drawing your attention to him so obediently.

You swallow, nerves flooding through you. "Yeah?"

His eyes never waver from yours, the sincerity within making you tremble. "The things I'll do to yer, friends don't do tae each other, yeah?" His low tone and the lack of a playful smile make you clench.

"Understood." You nod dumbly, too awestruck and aroused to give him a real response.

"Good girl." He grins, patting your wrist with the bracelet now attached. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah..."

He takes your hand in his once more, leading you back to the entrance to collect your shoes before you make it back onto the street. All the while, you turn his words over in your head, desperately holding on to the soaring feeling in your chest and the pit of arousal deep inside you. The effect he has on you is downright vicious.

"Where to now?" He asks, waiting for you to lead him around the city.

The cooler air of the street helps calm you down, as you steer your thoughts back to more appropriate things.

"I was thinking we could just walk around, window-shop. Maybe grab some dinner? When have I got you til?"

"Last train is at 9."

You sigh wistfully, already dreading the moment he has to feel. "Doesn't feel like long enough."

"You'll be sick of me by then, lass." He chuckles, his smile still making you feel as full as it did the first time you saw it.

"Not if you're sick of me first."

The two of you take in the city streets hand in hand for a little while, wandering around the shops and chatting about anything and everything. The conversation comes just as easy as it always does, and before long the two of you head for something to eat and drink at a nearby pub.

The atmosphere is cosy as the two of you tuck yourselves away at a table in the corner, order your food and drinks and get to chatting once more. You've already teased Johnny for ordering another coffee along with his meal, while he needled you for ordering several side dishes instead of a main.

Both of you are excited to tuck in when the food arrives, and your conversation turns to getting to know more about the other.

"So, what can you tell me about work?" You ask, finally feeling brave enough to broach the subject. Johnny's work will come with a lot of complications, you already know that, and one of them is likely that he will have to be careful about the things he shares. That doesn't stop your curiosity, though.

"What d'ya wanna know?" He responds, open and earnest, as he dips a chip into his sauce.

You think for a moment, trying to conjure up your most pertinent questions. "Who do you work with?"

Johnny swallows his food before wiping his hands on his napkin and pulling out his fun. He turns it to you when he brings up a photo, zoomed in on an older man in tactical gear.

"Well, first there's the Captain, Price. Best captain we could ask for." He comments, looking to you for your response.

Something in the Captain's eyes tells you he's dependable, and you can hear the respect he holds from Johnny's voice.

"Interesting facial hair." You giggle, referencing the grown-out mutton chops that surprisingly suit him.

Johnny laughs, nodding in agreement. "Oh aye, a right character he is." He swipes along the photo to another man, much younger but tall too.

His smile is the first thing you notice, so bright and earnest, and with perfect teeth.

"Gaz, Kyle. We're always getting into shit together." He adds with a mischievous chuckle. "Good lad though."

"He looks nice." You offer, before scrolling across the image yourself.

The next man in line is the tallest and broadest, his face hidden behind a skull mask that you find strangely endearing. "Ooh, cool mask."

"That's Ghost." Johnny whispers, his voice more sombre than before.

The lack of a real name combined with the mask confuses you. "Just Ghost?" You ask.

"Aye, unless he tells you otherwise. Scary motherfucker, loves a good dad joke though." Johnny humanises him, and the fondness within his voice doesn't escape you.

All in all, you're left with more questions than answers, but you already feel privileged that Johnny has shared this much with you. Still, there's something pressing on your mind. "Everyone gets a nickname, what's yours?"

"Soap." He answers firmly, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Soap? Why?" You can't say you're familiar with military nicknames, but Soap certainly seems like a strange one.

"Am good at cleaning house." There's something underlying his playful tone that you can't quite put your finger on, something hinting at the inevitable darkness underneath.

Johnny pushes past it like it never happened, turning the attention back on you. "How's your work, anyway?"

"Boring, though I imagine every job is compared to yours." You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you try to conjure up anything interesting about your career. "I work at my PC all day and the highlight is office gossip, which is often about one or two messy people fucking everyone in the building."

"Like reality TV, but you live it?" He smirks, already seeming amused by the inevitable stories he'll get to hear. It seems Johnny might be a little bit of a gossip.

"Yes, exactly!" You giggle, finding his intrigue endearing. "So I live in reality TV and you live in one of those gritty military shows."

"Pretty much." He clicks his tongue, turning to take a sip of his own drink as his eyes glaze over again.

You dread to think of all the things he's seen—witnessing them on TV is already too much for you, never mind seeing them for real.

"... It must be tough." You offer earnestly, unsure of what else to say.

"Sometimes, it's no' so bad, really." He shrugs, a tight smile on his lips. "I'd rather not talk about it while I'm with yer, not now anyway. That okay?"

The softness in his eyes fuels the guilt gripping at your chest—you never meant to pry or make him uncomfortable, only to offer yourself up as a safe space. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

"Nothing to apologise for. You'll have plenty of time to get to know that part of me, tha's all." He gives you a smile, a more earnest one this time, as he refuses to let either of you settle in a solemn moment. Instead, he redirects to the idea of you spending time together in the future.

"Oh, I will?" You ask, voice hopeful—any negative emotions swirling away as Johnny reaches out to stroke your hand.

"Already planning our second date in ma head." He winks cheekily, that gorgeous smile back on his face in full effect.

You settle back into your meal with a contented warmth spreading through you, feeling like there's nowhere else you'd rather be than by Johnny's side.

When you make it to the train station hours later, your heart starts to sink as you get closer and closer to your goodbye. The sun is only just beginning to dip into the sky, but the train schedule demands Johnny's return to Hereford.

The two of you stand before the departure boards, savouring your last moments together as you hold each other close.

"How are yer getting home?" Johnny asks, ever the gentleman.

You don't look him in the eye as you speak words you know he isn't going to enjoy hearing, in fact, you all but hide in his chest as you mumble. "I was planning on walking."

He stiffens, pulling away slightly. "I'll order an uber." His words are laced with a protectiveness—and whether it's his instincts as a man, a soldier, or a dom you're not sure. Likely, it's a combination of all, making him determined to get you home safe and sound.

You already know better than to argue with him on this. "I can order my own uber."

His eyes soften, clearly relaxing upon hearing you relent so easily. "Promise?"

You nod. "I swear, I will."

You cuddle back into his chest again, the two of you clinging to each other. With your ear pressed against him, you can hear the steady rhythm of Johnny's heart, and you focus on it beating as you absorb every last moment with him.

That moment is interrupted by the station announcement, informing you that the next train to depart will be his.

"I better get going." He loosens his grip on you but still holds your arms as he stares down at you adoringly.

"Don't want you to." You admit, voice a little forlorn. It already hurts to let him go, especially since you don't know when you'll see each other again. Johnny could be deployed again at any moment, and after making all of this real, the thought seems paralysing.

"I don't want to either, but I'll see yer soon." He whispers soothingly, a hand stroking across your cheek as the promise falls from his lips.

You force yourself to smile, to feel strong in the face of your separation. Something within you urges you to put on a brave face, to show Johnny that you can be resolute for him. "We'll have to think more on a cool date number two idea."

"We will." He nods, fingers still stroking oh so delicately across your cheek, as his eyes flicker down to your lips. "Bonnie?"

"Yeah?" Your response is barely audible, your breath stolen as you know what's coming next, and you crave it so desperately.

"Gonna kiss yer now, if tha's alright."

"Please."

Johnny closes the final inches as he presses his lips to yours—soft and gentle at first as his hand cups your cheek, before the other comes to grasp at you too, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body floods with euphoria, desire, peace—as you kiss back with everything you have and pour all of yourself into him.

The two of you are lost in each other, all grasping hands and lips caressing lips—two hearts opening up to each other.

Johnny is the only one of you with enough restraint to pull away, settling his forehead against yours as he smiles unreservedly—his eyes shining with delight. "Fuckin' Christ."

You push against his chest, putting some distance between you as you giggle. "You better go before we commit acts of public indecency."

"Aye." He nods, yet he tucks a finger under your chin to angle your mouth up at him. "One more?"

You nod enthusiastically before diving back in, savouring his lips on yours—the taste of coffee, the softness contrasted with his stubble, the hint of a groan that rumbles through him.

"Okay." He sighs, forcing himself to step away, even if your hands remain linked. "Message me when you get home, yeah?"

"I'll be texting you the second you leave, sorry."

"Oh, I was planning on doing the same, dinnae worry." He winks.

Reluctantly, you let him go—instantly feeling a little more lost without him at your side.

"See you soon, Johnny." You call out, smile soft as he makes his way over to the ticket gate.

"Not if I see yer first, sweetheart." He calls back, then turns his attention away to scan his ticket at the barrier.

On the other side, he catches your eye once more, offering you a tiny, playful salute before he turns to make his way to his train.

You're left in a weird state between euphoria and emptiness—feeling like you have everything and nothing at the same time. Johnny was everything you could've wanted and more, and you're already counting down the days until you can see him again.

You watch until his silhouette disappears, and turn your attention to your phone to get to ordering that uber you promised him you'd take. When you unlock your phone, a message from Johnny is waiting for you.

Miss you already, my pretty kitty <3

#john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfiction #soap mw2 #call of duty fanfic #soap cod #collars and cages #this is a big chonky read and idk how to feel about it but here we are

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quirrrky · 5 months

Text

KUROO—your husband, was happily washing the dishes and you're admiringly watching him with so much contentment in your heart.

Today’s his birthday, he changed a bit over the year. He looked more mature, yet as goofy as ever whistling while he rinsed the plate. Things seemed so mundane right now, but your heart was full.

You wrapped your arms around him from behind, your cheek squished against the broad of his back and his scent filled you in comfort. His heart dropped several floors down feeling your warmth around him. If he wasn’t holding something, he’d immediately hug you back.

Gone were the days when you both had extra time to celebrate outside. He had important things to do at work, and you had your fair share of tasks in the office too. Both of you were still even in your corporate clothes with him wearing the suit you gave him the last time. He ditched the coat off, leaving the gray vest on matched with the cute black cat on red tie, which was his favorite by the way.

For tonight, you made arrangements at home, agreeing that he’d take care of setting up a little something in your dining room while you dialed in for a takeout to have his favorite food for delivery instead. Now, he insisted to wash the dishes himself.

“I’m almost done,” Tetsu said, and you nuzzled closely against him, your embrace tightening. You clung to him like he's the most precious in this world, because he was...for this day, pfft. “You love me that much, huh?” he quipped, teasingly as usual.

“I do,” you answered.

It’s his birthday but it felt like you’re the one being blessed.

A few years ago, you never thought that you’d have someone like him in your arms like this.

For such a long time, the thought of being with someone was a faraway dream. There were countless nights when you’d cry yourself to sleep, wondering if there’s really someone for you out there. There were times when you wished you had a hand to grasp, arms that could wrap around you when you’re beat and tired. Someone who’d hold you close when you felt like giving up.

You spent days gaslighting yourself with the thought that you might not end up happy in a relationship in the first place. All those times, you’re so close to giving up on love and finding it.

Tetsurou turned around, facing you and enveloping you in his strong arms, he caressed your head and his eyes held so much love that you couldn’t explain. Everytime you looked at him you were reminded that dreams do come true.

“Who would have thought that I’d have someone like you?” He said as if he was talking to himself.

You smiled your tears away. You wanted to ask the heavens the same thing. Who would have thought that I’d have someone like him?

Slowly, he started swaying you and you rested your head on his chest. There’s no music on, just the sound of his heart in your ear and the sound of your peaceful breathing harmonizing together in your empty apartment.

It was so simple yet it’s everything you never thought you’d ask for.

“Thank you...” you murmured.

“For what?” he replied.

“For being born.” For being in my life, for being one of the greatest wishes granted to me. There’s a lot you’d like to say but you kept it inside, avoiding being dramatic as it was his birthday after all.

Tetsu sighed, “If any, I should be the most thankful,” he parted a little and lovingly caressed the top of your head. “Because I’m still alive and I still get to hold you close like this.”

Kuroo didn’t have a solid idea of what love could be like. He didn’t even have a family that showed him how, but in your arms, he found the home his heart had been searching for all this time.

He made many mistakes, broke many hearts and had his heart broken. Love existed only as a word for him until he met you and finally, he found someone who made that word something real, something he could finally believe in.

He probed into your eyes, seeking even deeper into your soul. You tiptoed, face closing in on his. Whispering, he asked, “Would it be cheesy if I say that you’re the best gift of my life?”

You chuckled and nodded your head in agreement. Silly, boy. Your silly boy.

“I guess I’ll just kiss you then...” Your husband grinned and you both giggled like highschoolers. He nuzzled on your cheek, giving it a small kiss, which made you turn for him to capture your sweet lips.

Tetsu had an arm around your waist and a hand cupping the back of your head, while you had your hands laced at his nape. He pulled your body close to his and dipped you back, kissing you deeply with such unbridled passion, intensity and love.

Scooping you up, he carried you in bridal style and broke the kiss with a ridiculous question.

“Can I unwrap my present now?” Birthday Boy asked with a cute pout.

You were chuckling and playfully returned, “What present?”

“The one in the pretty dress,” he replied with a mischievous grin.

You laughed as he took you inside the bedroom and threw you in bed. Soon, a squeal and fits of laughter were heard from your room and you both wouldn't have it any other way.

#hubby birthday kuroo ❤️🖤#kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #kuroo scenarios #kuroo drabble #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo tetsurou x reader

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feelbokkie · 1 year

Text

📱Distancing yourself from BF!SKZ after receiving hate 📱 (Part 2) (Hyung + Hyunjin Line)

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: heavy angst, hurt/comfort

pov: 1st & 2nd person

description: Your boyfriend finds out why you've been distancing yourself (Half smau, half written)

pairing: bf!skz & fem!reader

warnings: swearing, break up, mentions of violence, mention of self harm (?), self loathing, mostly fluff, let me know if I missed anything

word count: listed below

screenshot count: 4

Part 1

Part 2 (Maknae Line)

방 찬 (Bang Chan) (1,150 words)

“Y/N’s a better person than me. I don’t think I would be able to handle it.”

“Handle what?” Chan asked the two staff members who were talking in the corner.

Chan normally stays out of things that don’t concern him, but when he heard your name he could help but get involved.

“All the hate. I don’t know what I would do if I was constantly being told to kill myself by strangers.” The taller of the two staff members mentions.

Chan thought quietly to himself for a few seconds. He knows that you had gotten some hate in the past, it’s only natural that a few fans would be upset that Chan is in a relationship. But he handles the situation with a message on bubble and everything was fine. Right? You wouldn’t keep something like this from him. Right?

“Thank you for your hard work today,” Chan says quickly before shuffling off to a quiet corner of the room.

He pulls out his phone and types in your name on Twitter. All the top mentions of your name are so vile and full of malice that he can only imagine how worse it must be in your inbox.

Chan spent the whole journey back to his dorm reading all the comments that you must have seen. You had to have seen them and that’s why you’re avoiding him. There’s no other explanation. All of your social media accounts are now private, comments are turned off, and you even took off your profile pictures. It’s bad and he blames himself for not seeing how much you were suffering sooner. Once they get home, Chan walks straight to his room and slams the door, causing Jisung, Changbin, and Hyunjin to share a scared and confused look.

With a need to put an end to all the madness before it escalates even further, he does the only thing he can do: start a Channie’s Room.

***

I stared at the link Chan had sent me for 5 minutes. I’ve been avoiding him for a few days, it doesn’t make sense that he would just send me a link like everything is okay. But it’s not, everything is fucked.

Our relationship is public, much to Chan’s dismay. He would have preferred to keep everything private, but after a picture of us was at risk of being leaked, we decided to get in front of the narrative and announce our relationship. Everything was fine, my name and picture were never released. A few weeks ago my identity was revealed. I didn’t tell Chan, I didn’t want to worry him with something I could handle on my own. And I did, but the toll on my mental health from most of the comments being directed at me would have been a dead giveaway.

I bite my lip and open the video on my laptop. I sit with my knees to my chest at my computer desk. The video stars and I see Chan sitting in his bedroom wearing the couple hoodie we picked out our first year of dating. I can’t stop the corner of my lips from turning up. His expression is hard to read. He looks tired. I can see it in the bags under his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I know you guys weren’t expecting a Channie’s Room today. It’s going to be short. I promise.” Chan explains as he reads comments on his phone. Why did he send me a link to this?

“‘Why are we here?’ I thought we could have a little chat. Just a quick conversation about something that’s come to my attention.’”A flash of anger hits his eyes only for a quick second.

Shit. He knows. He knows and he’s going to address it. I quickly pull my phone and dial Chan’s number to get him to stop whatever crusade he’s about to embark on. Chan picks up his phone and swipes his hand across the screen just as the call ends. Chan holds his phone up to the camera.

“If it’s alright with you guys, I’m going to put my phone away. It’s almost dead. But don’t worry, I can still see your comments on my computer.” He smiles at the camera before literally tossing his phone behind him.

“Fuck!” I shut my laptop and race around my room grabbing my shoes, wallet, and keys before making a mad dash to the dorm.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Hyunjin asks when he answers the door. I take a second to catch my breath, doubled over in front of the door. I managed to turn a 30-minute walk into a 15-minute marathon. Call me superwoman.

“C…han…is Chan still in his room?” I ask, finally standing up having collected myself after a few minutes.

“Yeah, but I would wait for a second. He’s pissed.” Han calls from the couch.

“Oh, believe me, I already know.” I finally make my way into the dorm and head straight to Chan’s room.

I open the door and freeze when I see Chan still sitting at his desk. I quietly close the door and lean against it as I try to catch my breath. Chan looks at me quickly before finishing the live and giving me his full attention.

“Why are you out of breath? What’s wrong?” He stands up and places a hand on my shoulder.

“What’s wrong? I ran all the way over here to stop you from doing whatever the fuck that was on live.” I push his hand off and make my way over to the beanbag chair that Chan has for me to sit in.

“You’re mad at me for defending you?” He grabs a water bottle from his mini fridge and opens it before handing it to me. I take a huge sip.

“Not mad, upset. I was handling it.”

“How were you handling? By avoiding me?”

“I only avoided you because you can read me like a book. I didn’t want you to worry while you’re busy with your comeback.”

“So you were just going to suffer in silence?” Chan sits down on the edge of his bed and hands me the water bottle cap.

“Chan, I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to start dating you. I expected something like this would happen eventually. I didn’t want you to worry because you already have so much weight on your shoulders.”

“It’s literally my job as your boyfriend to worry about you. It’s not a burden. You’ll never be a burden.” Chan climbs off the bed and kneels next to me.

“I love you. I promise that I will lean on you more.” I take Chan’s hand and kiss his cheek.

“And I promise to also lean on you so that you don’t have to worry about coming to me. Stay the night?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho) (921 words)

Part 3

Minho rarely goes on social media. He’ll post the occasional picture on Instagram for the official Stray Kids page, but that’s all. He has his secret account, but he mostly uses it when he’s been away from you for a while and misses seeing your face. He hadn’t seen you for a couple of weeks so he logged in to look at your most recent pictures. That’s when he saw all of the hate comments that were under all your pictures.

“What the fuck?” He mutters under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Han asks, looking concerned at Minho. Dance practice had run late so they’re all resting on the floor of the practice room.

“All these comments on Y/N’s pictures. They’re so vicious.” And recent.

“Do you think that’s why she hasn’t been around?” Minho blinks a few times before shutting his phone and putting his stuff away. He looks down at his phone one more time before leaving without saying anything to the others.

***

I set down a cup of water in front of Minho before returning to my spot in my armchair. He’s been quiet ever since he showed up at my door. It wasn’t completely strange for him to show up unannounced like this. He often comes over to spend the night on a whim. But this time feels different.

“How was practice?” I finally say, breaking the silence.

“Long and difficult, but we’ll figure it out. We always do.” The room falls silent again. I don’t know why I’m nervous, it’s just Minho. We’ve been together long enough, silence shouldn’t be awkward for us. If anything, we prefer it. Most of our nights in are quiet while we both just enjoy each other’s company.

“I saw the comments on your Instagram. When were you going to tell me?” Minho reaches for the glass of water and takes a sip.

“I… I was going to. I just didn’t know when or how to bring it up.” A few weeks ago, a few Stay found my social media and began commenting rude things under all my pictures. It’s escalated into a bigger issue than what I initially thought it was going to be.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you actually asking?”

“Y/N, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t actually want to know.” I don’t know why, but he saying that breaks me. Tears start falling down my face faster than I can stop myself.

The truth is, I’m not okay. I knew that dating an idol came with its own set of challenges and that publicly dating one would be even harder. I knew to an extent that I would probably get hate, either directly or indirectly, at some point in our relationship once we went public. So, I constantly did a lot of mental preparation for this exact situation. But no amount of mental preparation will ever prepare you for having all of your flaws pointed out and constantly being told to kill yourself. I hate to admit it, but it has severely impacted my mental health. I can’t sleep, and when I do it’s never for long. My appetite is nonexistent, I only eat when I realize that I hadn’t eaten anything all day.

“I’m not doing great if I’m being completely honest. I can’t remember the last time I got a decent sleep or ate a proper meal. I barely made all of my social media private, but that doesn’t stop people from sending me DMs. I have to delete every comment by hand because if I just turned off my comments, I would miss seeing the stuff you wrote. But that means I have to read each comment to make sure I’m not getting rid of yours— I’m just really exhausted.”

Minho is silent again as he gets up from his spot on the couch and kneels in front of me. He takes me in his arms and strokes my hair as I sob into his shoulder. I knew everything was getting to me, but I didn’t know how much it is affecting me until I said it out loud.

Min presses a kiss on my cheek and pulls away once I’m done crying. He places both hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eyes. His are filled with tears and he has a sad smile.

“Let’s break up.” He says it so quietly, I almost didn’t hear him.

“What? No—”

“Y/N, you’re miserable. You’re not eating or sleeping, and in a way, it’s because of me. Even if we were to block all of the people sending you hate and delete the comments and DMs, you’ll still be at the center of all this negativity. The only way you’ll know peace is if we aren’t together anymore.”

“I love you, I don’t want to break up.” Tears begin to fall down my face again.

“I love you too, and that’s why we have to. It would be selfish of me to stay with you knowing that you’re dying inside because of me. I would rather end this and know that you’re happy somewhere than lose you forever.” The tears that were welling in his eyes finally start to fall too.

He’s right, even if he went and reprimanded everyone for sending me hate, it would never truly end. I wouldn’t be happy.

“Can we break up tomorrow? I just really need you right now.” I choke out.

“Whatever you need, my love. And just know, I’ll always be here for you.”

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin) (826 words)

“Excuse me, could we take a picture with you?” Changbin had run into a few fans on his way out of the grocery store when he was getting ingredients to make you soup.

“Ah, just one, I have popsicles.” He lifts one of the bags to show them the shopping he just did. They take a quick group photo before heading their separate ways.

“Changbin oppa is so sweet. I wonder what he sees in that bitch.” One of the fans says as they walk away.

“She’s probably just after him for his money. You know what the forums say.” Another one pipes up.

They thought that they were far away enough from Changbin when they started talking, but he heard them. When he turned around to confront them, they were gone. It takes him a few seconds to process what they were talking about. Forums? That mentioned you? Once he realized what was going on, he ran off to your apartment.

***

“Are you receiving hate?” Changbin asked when I opened my door.

I was laying down in bed, reading some new mentions on Twitter, when I got a text from Changbin saying he was downstairs. I shouldn’t have said I had a headache. Any mention of me being sick or hurt, he runs to take care of me. I knew he would find out eventually, I was just hoping it wouldn’t be tonight.

“Hello to you too.” I close the door and follow him into the kitchen. He put some grocery bags on the counter and was now leaning over the sink. I roll my eyes and start going through the bags. He really can’t multitask.

“Why didn’t you tell me about what’s going on?” He says without looking at me.

“Bin, can we not do this tonight? I really do have a headache.” I grab the box of popsicles and put them in my freezer.

“Your head wouldn’t hurt if you told me that people were harassing you online. I am your boyfriend, you should come to me when these things happen.” I put the last of the groceries away and walk to the living room.

“Yah! Y/N, don’t walk away from me. I just want to talk.” I love Changbin, but he can be loud. I’m used to it, but it’s unbearable right now.

“Maybe I didn’t tell you because it’s none of your business.”

“You are my business! And if someone is treating you like shit, I should know.” He sits down on the couch, running his hand through his hair.

“You can’t fight everyone to defend my honor.” I sit down on the opposite side of the couch.

“I can try.”

“And tell them what? That they’re wrong? That I’m not a cold bitch? Or a slut? Can you prove that I’m not? For fucks sake— you came all the way over here because you were worried about me and I’m trying to push you away. Changbin, I didn’t tell you because they’re telling the truth. I’m not the most attractive person. My personality is shit and my body count is a bit higher than I like to admit. The only thing that they’re wrong about is me being a gold digger.” Changbin’s expression softens. He scoots closers to me on the couch and places a hand on my knee.

“Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that. You’re wrong. They’re wrong. I’m the only one who is right. They don’t know you like I do. Who are they to call you a bitch? They don’t know that you carry around snacks for dogs and cats with you just in case you run into a stray. They don’t know that you’re the one who makes sure I don’t overwork myself, and take care of me when I ultimately do with no complaints. They don’t know that you also take care of the rest of my group members when they’re sick so that the rest of us stay healthy. They don’t know that you’re prettiest without your makeup, especially when you first take it off. They don’t know that you were going through something before we met. So why should what they say about you matter?”

“Bin—”

“If you don’t like something about yourself because you personally have an issue with it, that’s fine. It’s normal and I’ll be right here to help you fall in love with yourself again. And if you’re letting the opinions of others who have no idea what they talking about, I will personally kick their asses for you.” I can’t stop the corner of my mouth from turning up.

“I’m sure JYP and Dispatch would love that.”

“Y/N, I’m serious. I love you and I want to be there for you, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me in.” He moves his hand to my hand and squeezes.

“You can’t protect me from everything.” I sigh, squeezing his hand back.

“Wanna bet?”

황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin) (1,076 words)

“Hyunjin hyung, isn’t this Y/N noona’s apartment?” Jeongin held his phone in front of the older boy’s face. On it played a video that showed your apartment, your place of work, and the shops in your neighborhood that you frequent. At the end of the video your phone number and the addresses for both your home and appear on the screen.

“What is this?” The color drains from Hyunjin’s face as he picks up his phone again and sends you a quick text, more panicked this time.

“I don’t know. I just saw it right now, but apparently, it was uploaded a couple of weeks ago— Chan hyung!”Jeongin dropped his phone and tried to steady Hyunjin’s swaying body.

“What’s wrong?” Chan asked looking at the scene unfolding in front of him. Jeongin quickly catches Chan up on what’s happening as Hyunjin slowly starts to zone back in.

“Something’s happened to Y/N, I just know it. I…I need to go check on her.” Hyunjin mumbles.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Hyunjin to have spells when you didn’t talk to or see each other. So when you first stopped replying to him, he didn’t think anything of it. But slowly, as time went on he would worry a little each day. When he first reached out and you didn’t reply, he just figured you weren’t ready to talk yet and left it alone. Finding out that you had been doxxed and were now unreachable racked his body with guilty.

“I’ll go with you, ‘kay? Minho, you’re in charge.” Chan wrapped his arm around the fragile boy and led him out of the room.

***

I haven’t left my apartment in a couple of days. I’ve barely left my bedroom since the incident at the convince store. I had been fired earlier that day because the unwanted attention I was receiving was messing with productivity. I had gone to get some snacks and cheap food for the next couple of days when I ran and got into an altercation with a couple of sasaengs. It’s safer in my room and I have enough food in my apartment for the next few weeks.

A knock at my bedroom door draws my attention. Knock? Did they finally manage to break in? I know there are been some people hanging around my apartment for a while now. My eyes scan my room for a place to hide. I settle on the closet. I quietly make my way to the closet and situate myself in the back of it, hugging my knees to my chest. I can’t even call for help, my phone is somewhere on the floor in my living room where it has stayed after I threw it. I have been getting an insane amount of calls and texts I was being bombarded with.

My heart is pounding so hard, I can’t hear anything. I squeeze my eyes tight and take a deep breath in. I let my breath out as I rub my sweaty palms on my pant legs. I should have taken some sort of self-defense course when I decided to move out of my parents' house. I didn’t think I needed to. Hyunjin went along with me when I was looking for an apartment. This one was in the safest neighborhood in my price range. He left a pair of his shoes and one of his coats by the door so it looks like he lives here. Hyunjin. He’s going to be devastated when he finds out. Whatever happens today, I hope isn’t the one who finds me. He’d torture himself for not being here, for not knowing.

I hold my breath when I hear the closet door open. If I stay as still as humanly possible, maybe they’ll leave. I squeeze my eyes tighter as the footsteps walk a little deeper into the closet. A rush of cool air hits my face as the clothes around me move.

“Hyunjin! I found her!”

Chan? I open my eyes to find the older boy standing over me with soft, yet relieved eyes. Hyunjin runs into the room and makes eye contact with me. Chan walks out of the closet to make room for Hyunjin. He kneels next to me and engulfs me in a hug, burying my face in his chest. Breathing in his scent, I start sobbing.

We sit like that for what feels like hours. The whole time, Hyunjin stayed quietly stroking my hair. Being in Hyunjin’s arms is the most peace I’ve felt in a month. The warmth radiating from his body and his familiar scent lulls me into a quiet state.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper when I finally calm down enough.

“Why are you sorry? If anything, this is my fault.” Hyunjin’s voice cracks. I pull away from his chest and look into his eyes. They’re red and glassy. I swipe my thumb under his eye.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t leak my information to the world.”

“That wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t dating me. Y/N,” he lets go of me and turns to face me fully, “I was so scared when I found out what happened. I was terrified that I was going to come here and find you…” Tears start to well up in his eyes at the thought of how badly this could have turned out.

“I know. I was scared too. But it’s fine. I’m fine”

“But it could have been really bad. Look at you—you’re covered in bruises. You can’t live here anymore.” He gently lifts my head to examine my face. Most of the damage is on my arms and torso, I have a small bruise on the corner of my mouth and a slightly busted lip.

“I know that—I’ve been looking at new places. But it’s going to take a while.”

“Just stay with me, it’s safer. Living with Changbin hyung and Chan hyung is like living with two bodyguards. And Jisung is pretty entertaining. Plus, I’m there.” I crack a small smile.

“Don’t you always complain about living with 3racha?” Hyunjin brushes my hair out of my face.

“Yeah, but maybe they’ll get their shit together if you move in with us. Anyway, let’s go. We can get something to eat and talk about everything.” Hyunjin stands up and sticks his hand out toward me. I take his hand and he pulls me up.

“I’m right behind you.”

—

Buy me a coffee?

#feelbokkie writes #stray kids #skz #chan #bangchan #bang chan #lee know #minho #lee minho #changbin #seo changbin #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #x reader #skz smau #stray kids smaus #stray kids fake texts

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leclercings · 17 days

Text

My Papaya Boy l Lando Norris x Reader | Part 2

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Lando Norris x Russell!Reader

Summary: After hiding your relationship with Lando for the past one year, finally decide to make it public.

A/N: So this was a tricky one. Here's part two.

Part 1 | Part 2

Masterlist

The commentators are having a field day. The fans too.

You limit the comments on your recent Instagram post. You're back in the hotel room- without Lando though.

He is leaving for Monaco in a few hours. Maybe, it'll take some eyes off you if you both stay away from each other for a little while.

Or not. When you returned from the circuit a few hours earlier there were a lot of reporters waiting outside your hotel.

Right now, what you're most afraid of is George's reaction. It might have been different in public, but in person, well…

Georgie. I can explain.

You text him, hoping that he'd see your message and give you a chance to explain.

He leaves you on seen.

A few hours later, your phone pings just as you're in the middle of the conversation with Lando, who's at the airport, waiting to board the plane.

“Lan, I have to go. George is calling.”

“Good luck, love. I'm sure he'll understand.”

“You don't know him like I do…” You sigh.

“What I do know is that, he'll never interfere with your happiness.”

You nod at him before cutting the video call. You dial the phone again, hoping he'd pick up. But he doesn't.

There's a knock on the door.

It's George.

“Hi,” you say, cautiously, as he enters your room. You casually look around for any mess but just like George, you're a neat freak.

“Y/N,” George sits on the chair. You copy his actions and sit on the best.

“You're dating Lando?”

You stifle a laugh. As if it wasn't obvious. But George's expression is serious.

“Yes.” You nod, fiddling with your fingers. It's a nervous habit.

“Since how long?”

“Almost a year.”

“Wait, what?” He huffs angrily, crossing his arms over his chest. “And you didn't tell me all this while?”

You can see he feels betrayed. Your heart sinks in disappointment. You never meant to hurt your brother. But his aversion towards you dating another driver forced you to keep your relationship a secret all this while.

“I'm sorry, Georgie,” you take a sip of water from the water bottle kept on your bedside table.

“And if I say I don't approve of this relationship, then what?” George asks you, staring right into your soul.

It takes you by surprise. You never expected George to say something like this.

“I love him, George. He's a part of my happiness.”

You're ready to fight for your relationship.

George sighs.

“I won't say that, because I know that Lando is a good guy. I just want you to be careful.”

“He loves me too, Georgie.”

“I know.”

George comes and sits beside you.

“I'm glad that you are happy, my love. You deserve the world.”

Tears threaten to spill in your eyes. You're ecstatic because George is being a supportive brother.

“Thank you, George.”

landonorris

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landonorris: to infinity and beyond🧡

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yourusername: forever🧡

↳landonorris: miss you🥺

↳norrizz: they're so cute omg

georgerussell63: you have my blessing!

↳yourusername: i’m lucky to have a brother like you georgie😘

↳landonorris: thank you georgie🙈

papayaboygirlie: so beautiful!

↳mclarenbabe: 🥺

comments on this post have been limited

#f1 #formula 1 #lando norris x you #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #ln4 leclercings #ln4 x y/n #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #ln4 #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #leclercings

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

Text

Happiness Masterlist

A collection of Simon “Ghost” Riley and his daughter, Winnie, and his wife, you.

SERIES PLAYLIST | Simon’s Playlist | Your Playlist

AO3 Link!

Raindrops

It’s the first night home with his little one, and he’s trying to remember every moment.

Angel

“Can you please explain to my Captain why I am an hour late?”

Little

Ghost has somewhere to be.

Tattooed Heart

The 141 meets the mysterious Lieutenant's daughter.

You Belong With Me

It’s your 21st birthday, yet you sit in a nice restaurant in a beautiful dress and tears in your eyes - until someone comes to your rescue, like a knight on a white horse.

Dear Winter

Simon had to find a toy for Winnie, but discovers what finally pushes him over the edge to confess his love for you.

Diamond Ring

“Wear it on your hand, tell the whole world that I’m your only man.” Simon dodged death so closely that it finally snapped him from his stupor - he needed you to be in his life for the rest of time.

Wife content below!

Tonight, Tonight, Tonight

It was a long deployment, Ghost wanted nothing more than to come home and be Simon again.

A Little More

It’s Simon’s first late night and morning with his new daughter, Mellie. And you and him have an important conversation.

A Little More [2]

A simple day of mundane domesticity, life isn’t always jammed packed full of events + Simon still has a lifetime of making it up to you.

That Happy Feeling

“say hello, winnie.” “say hello, mellie.” + a text conversation with the 141 + los vaqueros!

Dramatic

Simon’s been sick for three days and has refused any medication, claiming the cold medicine you brought from your home in America is poison and he’d rather die. You are convinced that the British medicine does nothing. Only one will win.

Lover

Christmas Eve is over. With enough paper cuts to last a lifetime, you just want Simon to know how much you love him with a song.

Twice A Question, Once An Answer

Two times you asked your husband a question, and the one time he had the answer you needed.

Imagine It

It was just a nice afternoon, your husband’s brothers in arms trying to name your imaginary baby for you.

Almost

Just a doctor’s appointment to find out baby three’s gender.

Will Never Be Enough

"Simon, I need you." The Lieutenant dropped the papers he was holding, they flew across the office floor. "I'm on my way." OR, Simon comes home to find you in a puddle of blood.

Bigger Than The Whole Sky

It’s hard to get over something like this, it’s hard to feel like this. Loss is difficult. OR, your husband tries his best to comfort you, but he’s finding this new challenge difficult.

Ducks

It’s hot in England, so it’s time to pull out the plastic kiddie pool and dip toes in the frighteningly cold water. Winnie finds a new friend.

More Than I Could Ask For

Losing a baby is difficult, Simon knows that. But as he takes care of you, all he wishes for is for you to not feel the pain anymore.

All I Ask

Simon tells you why he feels ashamed, plus Mellie decides to be a comforting little baby.

A Late Night Last Minute Request

Laswell catches Simon at the supermarket, to which he brings bad news home. There's only one thing he wants - a late night last minute request.

Four

It’s cuddle time for your girls.

White Carnations

Simon spends time with Winnie before he goes, he reminisces on the time he’s had with her.

The Love You Want (NOT POSTED)

It’s late at night, it’s his last night home before he leaves and he needs you like he needs oxygen.

Fearless

With Simon's new deployment comes a surprise guest, Kate Laswell, and some very unwanted company knocks at the door.

Window to the Abbey

Winnie and Mellie are cautious of the two new operators in their house, Simon’s calling, and Mellie’s sick. To say you’re handling it with grace would be an understatement.

Dial Tone

It’s the afternoon, rain thundered against your home so you couldn’t hear the footsteps that backed you into a corner.

Drag Me Under

One moment, you’re home - the next? You’re somewhere you don’t recognize with people you don’t recognize either, holding one of your most precious valuables.

High Water

Price has to make a tough decision.

The Death of Peace of Mind

…

I Will Think Of You As I Surely Drown

…

The Drabbles:

Burps

Little Letters

Christmas Closet

Melody

Mummy

Don’t Jump

Mum and Baby

Dinner Plans

Just Five Minutes With You | Interrupted

Bye Bye Beard

Be Home Soon

Halloween

Sleep Patterns

The What Ifs:

Home or Hospital | Porcelain | Piece of You In The Morning

Drifting

Careful What You Wish For | 22 Years

If Simon was with you when you went into the OR.

The promise that John Price keeps. | The Locket

Comfortable (18+)

#simon ghost riley #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x afab!reader #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon riley x afab!reader #simon riley x wife!reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley call of duty #simon riley x you #simon riley #lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium

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writingforstraykids · 1 month

Text

I owe you a kiss Pt.4

Pairing: Minchan x femReader (mention of Jisung/Felix)

Word Count: 5903

Summary: Chan arrives at the hospital to be there for his family in person. The news they receive about you aren't what they expected and Minho can't help but blame himself. Your husbands try to navigate their life as you recover.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, mention of blood, mention of a panic attack, coma, mention of sleeping pills, mention of throwing up (no further descriptions) min feels guilty, anxious!min, soft!chan

A/N: I sure hope you don't hate me as much as last week...🥺🖤

PART THREE | PART FIVE

Chan's heart drops to his stomach as he sees him. Tears stream down his face, and he looks terrified. Truly terrified. There's blood on his shirt, there's blood on the hand he uses to try and wipe away his tears. “Minho, fuck, where are you?”

“Hospital” is all he gets out.

“Why, what…Minho, where's Y/N?” he asks, his stomach tightening in fear at the pained sound that leaves Minho when your name is mentioned. “Min?”

Minho's breathing picks up, and he clutches the fabric of his pants tightly, trying to steady himself. “Someone crashed into our car, I-I swear it wasn't my fault. T-The airbag didn't open a-and-,” he breaks off with a sob. “Channie, there was so much blood,” he whimpers.

“Where's Y/nnie?” he asks, barely audible, blank fear taking over him.

“She's in surgery right now. Channie, they don't know if-” he can't say it, but meeting Chan's terrified eyes, he knows he gets it. “I'm so sorry,” he buries his face in his knees with a heavy sob.

Tears fill his eyes and he hates himself for not being there and able to hold him tight and not let go. “Minnie, baby, I'm sure it's not your fault,” he says gently and gets up, grabbing his suitcase. “Hannah!” he shouts through the house, not caring that his parents already went to bed. He needs to get back home as soon as possible.

Hannah is there in a few seconds, a little shocked by her brother's distraught look. “What's wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“I need to get home right now,” he tells her, and she nods gently. “Min, I'll figure this out, I promise. I'll be there as quickly as I can, okay?” Hannah's worries deepen at the timid answer Minho gives. “I know you have other things to worry about, but please let them check up on you, okay? I wouldn't want you to be hurt and notice too late.”

“Okay, Channie,” he sniffles. “What if she…?”

“Don't think that way,” Chan tells him softly. “Y/nnie’s a fighter, she'll push through. I'll let you know when I'm at the airport.”

Hannah already started packing her brother's suitcase, glancing at him worriedly as he exchanged goodbyes. “You look like shit, what happened?”

“They got into an accident,” he says and already dials another number. “They don't know if Y/N..,” he breaks off, and Hannah pulls him into a tight hug.

“She'll be okay; she always is,” she promises. “Now go call your fancy staff and get your VIP privileges; I'll pack.”

“Thank you,” he nods.

Minho looks up from his chair as the door to the room opens, and Felix slips inside. “What are you -?”

“Chan called and told me you could use someone,” Felix explains. He takes off his jacket and sits down next to him. He offers his hand, and Minho takes it, squeezing it gently. “Any news?”

“No,” he whispers timidly. “Still nothing,” he says. It's an hour ago that he called Chan. Someone checked up on him after cleaning the blood from his face and hands. “I didn't get hurt,” he says, and his face grows pale. “She was unconscious before I could do a thing, hit her head pretty hard. Felix there was so much blood,” he says mindlessly, as if he's giving him the facts on a new comeback.

Felix hums gently and rubs his shoulder. “I stopped by your place and got you some clothes. Maybe go and change, hm?” he suggests, spotting the blood on his shirt.

Minho stands up in a routine move, grabs his clothes, and locks himself in the bathroom. He meets his reflection in the mirror and closes his eyes, shivering softly. Fuck.

Felix glances up as he comes back and nods towards the small sofa in the corner of the room. He sits down there and pulls Minho into a hug. “I'm so sorry, Min.”

“It's not your fault,” Minho says tiredly and relaxes a little in his warm embrace. It's the first time something as shocking as this has happened, and none of his partners are there to hold his hand.

“I know,” Felix nods gently. “But still. You've already had a rough few months with Chan feeling like shit and then leaving.”

“Life is shit sometimes,” Minho shrugs, and his eyes flutter close when Felix starts running his hand through his hair. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.”

The flight back home has never felt as long as today. Never. About two hours ago he had gotten a message from Minho, short and simple, but it was enough.

Kitten🖤: She'll make it.

Chan quickly makes his way out of the airport and stops at home for ten minutes. Felix had told him to get home first, take a quick shower, and change clothes. None of them knew how long they'd be stuck at the hospital. Chan got into his car after and drove to the hospital, rushing up to your floor as soon as he knew where. Opening the door, he sees Felix sitting on the sofa in the back and gives him a quick wave.

Minho is by your bed, head resting on his arm on the mattress and seems asleep. Dried tear streaks cover his face and Chan's throat tightens at how exhausted he looks even in his sleep. And then there's you, looking as pale as the sheets, your head wrapped up safely. Your hand lies in Minho's, and only your chest moving tells him you're alive. Chan finds himself in Felix's arms before he fully registers the scene and hugs back tightly.

“Hey, mate,” Felix whispers, not wanting to wake Minho up. “I'll leave you to it, yeah? So that you know Minho does blame himself for what happened. We don't know when she'll wake up, but the doctor said she will.”

Chan nods gently before flashing him a tired smile. “Thank you for being here.”

“Obviously,” Felix snorts and gently pats his chest. “Welcome home, I guess.”

A little later, they're alone, and Chan timidly steps closer to Minho, sitting down on the chair next to him. His hand finds his lower back almost naturally and he very gently picks him up into his lap. A soft protesting sound leaves Minho's lips but he's too tired actually to question the action. Minho curls up in his arms, the way he always does, as if deep down he knows it's Chan. Chan makes sure he's comfortable and plants a tiny kiss on his hair, soothingly fondling his head. Only then did it hit him how much he had missed you two.

Minho wakes up later, feeling warm and comfortable. He subconsciously cuddles close before his brain slowly picks up on Chan's so familiar scent and the way his body feels against him, and he sits up straight rapidly. “Channie,” he breathes out, his eyes getting teary.

“Hi, kitten,” he says softly and presses their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he confesses quietly. “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” he asks gently. “Lee Minho, if you blame yourself for what happened now, I will smack your ass. Not in a good way.”

A weak laugh escapes him, and he gently shoves his chest. “Of course I do. I'd rather get hurt than her.”

“She'd say the same if it were you,” he says and gently rubs his shoulder. “Nevertheless, it's not your fault.”

“Channie?” he whispers timidly. “I really don't believe that and…,” he trails off with a sniffle.

“I'm here now, let it out,” he says softly, and Minho's head drops down in his chest with a broken sound. Chan holds him tight, trying to make him feel as safe and comforted as possible. Minho shuffles into his lap, straddling him and pulling him into a tight hug. They hold onto each other firmly and find comfort in their shared pain for a bit. “I'm so sorry I wasn't there.”

“Don't,” Minho stops him, burying his hand in his hair. “You're here now.”

“I didn't mean what I said in that call,” Chan tells him nevertheless. “I was planning to surprise you for your birthday in two weeks after.”

Minho sniffles softly and squeezes him. “Yeah? So you've been getting better?”

“I have,” Chan nods and kisses his cheek. “It's still not completely, but it's so much better.”

“That's good,” he tells him. “I'm proud of you, Channie.”

“I love you,” Chan says gently. “So so much.”

Minho smiles a little at that and takes a deep breath. He is better. “I love you too, Channie.”

Minho firmly holds Chan's hand as they lean against the wall opposite your room. About twenty minutes ago, the doctor sent them away as you started to tremble. Since then, no one has talked to them. Another doctor shuffled into the room, and Minho could tell Chan was getting anxious from there on.

Chan grows awfully quiet next to him, staring at the floor and seeming like he's far away. Minho is shaking a little, tapping his fingers against his thigh anxiously. Chan soothingly rubs his knuckles and squeezes his hand for the tenth time. “They said she'd be okay, right?” he asks.

Minho glances at him awkwardly. “They said she'd make it…whatever that means for the rest.”

Chan huffs softly and nods, Minho is right. “Am I the only one feeling like throwing up?”

“God no,” Minho laughs weakly. “Have been since the accident.”

Chan glances at him worriedly. “You should've told me.”

He shrugs tiredly and cracks his neck with a soft moan. “I always am when I'm worried. There's nothing you could've done.”

Chan nods and traces his eyes up and down his body. “But you're not dizzy? Are you having a headache? Or anything?”

Minho steps in front of him and takes both of his hands. “I'm okay, physically. They checked everything, I promise,” he tells him softly and Chan pulls him into a hug. He lets him, only then noticing that Chan is shaking himself by now. “Deep breaths, we'll be alright.”

“Okay,” Chan whispers.

“We'll be okay,” Minho repeats himself as if to convince them both.

“Okay,” Chan nods, and Minho pulls back from him as the door opens. Their hands don't part as the doctor leads them to an office nearby and asks them to sit down. Chan looks like he's about to throw up now and Minho is dancing at the edge of a lingering panic attack.

“Mr. Lee, you've asked me to wait for a proper update on your wife's state until your husband arrives,” she starts out, and Chan gently grabs Minho's hand, squeezing it. “I have an update on the condition of your wife and I'm afraid it isn't what you'd like to hear. The impact injured her frontal bone, which punctured her brain. We could fix this with the surgery,” the doctor tells them.

Both of them are smart enough not to be too relieved already. “And besides that?” Minho asks timidly, not having missed that warning before.

She gives him a compassionate smile. “Well, for one there'll probably be the usual aftermaths like nightmares or even fear of sitting in a car again. That isn't everything, though.”

“Stop sweet talking and tell us what we're dealing with, please,” Chan says kindly, heart thumping in his throat.

“Your wife seems to have suffered more trauma than we thought, especially after the surgery. She's in a coma, and we don't know when or if she'll wake-.”

“If?” Minho asks, barely audible, his hand slipping from Chan’s. “But…you said she’d make it.”

She flashes him a compassionate smile. “That’s before her body shut down, she seemed stable before. I’m really sorry.”

“For fucks sake,” he breathes out and slowly pushes himself up from his chair. “You’re saying there’s a chance she’ll never wake up again? What then? You expect me to tell you when to turn it all off?”

“Minho,” Chan speaks up gently and turns in his chair to face him. There’s nothing but blank fear in his eyes, and he looks at the doctor in front of them so desperately it breaks his heart. “It’s not her fault.”

“No shit, Chan!” Minho snaps at him, and Chan’s gaze grows firm.

“Don’t do this. Not here,” he says calmly, and Minho scoffs at him.

“My image as an idol is the last thing I care about right now, Mr. Golden Boy,” he presses out and shakes his head, leaving the room without another word.

Chan sighs heavily and turns back at the doctor, smiling apologetically. “I apologize, he didn’t mean it.”

“I'll be quick,” she assures him kindly. We don't know how soon she'll wake up again. In case she does, someone has to take care of her. I know you're both very busy. Is there anyone else, just in case?”

“Besides a friend of hers not really, no,” Chan says worriedly. “Her family doesn't live exactly close.”

“If she can go back home soon…Mr. Bahng, there's a high chance this will take months, maybe a year, until she fully regains her abilities. We don't know how bad it'll affect her yet, there's a potential for memory loss. I will inform you about eventual treatments and everything when it's time. I'm really sorry and I wish you and your husband the best of luck and strength with this new situation.”

Chan exchanges another few words before quickly rushing outside and trying the closest bathroom as the hallway is empty. Luckily, Minho seemed to have forgotten to lock the door. Minho's on his knees, retching even though there's nothing left. Chan crouches down behind him, gently rubbing his shoulders. “Hey, baby, deep breaths.”

Minho whimpers and falls back against him, sobbing. “Please, please tell me this isn't true. Not our sweet Y/nnie.”

Chan swallows down tears, trying to stay strong for both of them. Minho has been carrying everyone's shit on his shoulders for too long now. It's time he steps up again. “It'll be okay, we'll be okay,” he promises and rocks him gently as Minho allows himself to break down in his arms. “Shh, it's okay, Minnie baby, it's okay, I got you.”

Chan stares at you, deep in thoughts, trying to make sense of the past few hours. The thought of you possibly never waking up again is killing him. He feels guilty for not being there those past months. What if he missed all this time with you? Just because he hadn't been feeling so well? His chest tightens, and he sucks in a sharp breath, subconsciously reaching for Minho next to him. Every word dies in his throat, seeing his husband. Minho stares at the floor, hot tears running down his cheeks and pressing his lips together tightly in an attempt to hold back his sobs. His hair falls into his face, stomach twisting with guilt the longer he thinks about what happened. Chan swallows hard at the sight of his husband, trying not to break down. His shoulders tremble with the impact of his suppressed sobs, and he sniffles softly. Chan gently rubs his back and watches him worriedly as he pushes himself up. He quickly reaches out for him and stares up at him with wide eyes. “Please don't leave,” he whispers, swallowing down his own fear but not fully succeeding. “Please,” he adds, tears brimming his eyes.

Minho looks at him and shakes his head. “I can't breathe in here,” he confesses through tears and shakily holds Chan's hand. “I just wanna go home, please, I’ve been here for hours,” he whimpers.

Chan looks at him quietly before nodding. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees. They're both exhausted and need some sleep. You wouldn't wake up that soon, and they both could use a break. “Okay, I'll drive us home; my car’s outside.”

“For telling you to get yourself together…more or less,” he says and stops at a redlight. “That wasn’t very supportive of me.”

Minho exhales, relieved, and shakily holds onto his hand as Chan gently says his goodbye to you. They leave the hospital in silence, and Chan drives them back home, soothingly rubbing Minho's knee. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Minho asks tiredly, staring at the many buildings passing by.

Minho laughs weakly and rolls his eyes at himself. “It’s okay, you were right. There’s nothing she can do about it right now…Also, I’m sorry for calling you a golden boy.”

“Please, as if I’d take that to heart after those past few months,” he snorts, and Minho smiles at him tiredly.

“I missed you,” he admits and grabs his hand, squeezing it. “It’s good to have you back.”

Chan smiles softly and brings their hands up to his mouth, planting a kiss on his knuckles. “I’m here now, yeah?”

Minho hums quietly in response, and Chan starts driving again.

Back home, Minho stands still for a moment, and Chan watches him worriedly as he starts shaking. Minho sucks in a sharp breath and clutches his chest, bending over with a whimper. “Hey, hey, babe,” he panics a little as Minho sinks to his knees with a groan, curling up and sobbing loudly. “What’s wrong?” he asks, worried that Minho got hurt and just didn’t tell him.

“I'm so sorry,” he whimpers as Chan gets down on the floor next to him. “It's all my fault.”

Chan shakes his head and holds onto him tightly, leaning down. “No, don't say that,” he tells him and helplessly rubs his back. “It's not your fault, baby.” His heart races with how intensely Minho sobs beneath him, and his stomach turns painfully. He has never seen him break down like this in all those many years he has known and then loved him. “Come here, please,” he whispers, tears making their way down his face. Now that they're back home, he can let them flow freely and allow himself to let it out. He heaves him into his lap, and Minho clings onto him firmly, allowing himself a little comfort in his husband's arms. Chan rocks him in his arms, trying to calm his own troubled mind.

“I’m sorry, Channie,” he whimpers and Chan hugs him even tighter in response.

One week later

“Min, baby?” Chan asks, coming back upstairs. “You're ready yet, we gotta-Minho?” he asks worriedly as he spots his husband lying in bed fully dressed. He bites back a sigh and sits down at the edge of the bed. “Min? What's wrong?”

“I don't want to,” he says quietly, seemingly staring right through him.

“What do you mean? We made a promise to stop by every day,” he tries gently.

“I can't go there, okay? Not today,” he shakes his head and subconsciously curls up a little. “I hate hospitals, I hate that she's there, I hate that she's hurt, and there's nothing I can do about it.”

“We should try to be there for her as much as we can, baby,” Chan argues carefully and brushes his hair from his face.

“It’s not like she notices if I’m not there or not,” Minho says.

“The doctor said there’s a chance she can hear us, kitten, remember?” he asks patiently.

“I don’t talk anyway,” he argues weakly.

“Min,” he sighs softly.

“I can't go there, Channie. Please don't make me go there,” he shivers, his eyes brimming with tears. “Please,” he whispers shakily.

Chan crawls into bed and pulls him in close, soothingly running his hand through his hair. “Shh, baby, it's okay.”

“I'm sorry, Channie,” Minho hiccups and buries himself deep into his chest. “I fucked it all up, I'm so sorry.”

“No, Minho, none of that,” he says firmly and shakes his head. “This isn't your fault, none of it.”

“You weren't even there, you don't know that,” he whimpers.

Chan pulls back and cups his face, making him look at him. “I might haven't been there, but I'm here now. I know my husband would do anything to keep that girl of ours safe. I know you would've swapped places in an instant, and I know you'd never put her at risk like that.” His thumbs rub along his cheeks soothingly, and he searches his eyes desperately. “Minho, this isn't your fault, and I’m sure she knows that. She loves you so much, and so do I. Don't blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

“Please don't make me go there again,” he sniffles timidly, eyes wide and filled with guilt.

“I'll go on my own, it's okay, Min,” he assures him and kisses his forehead. “Try and get some rest okay?”

“I keep dreaming about it,” he shakes his head and rubs his face tiredly. “I keep hearing her scream, and then her head hits…Channie, I'm fucked.”

Chan hums gently and rubs soothing circles on his lower back. “If it doesn't get better, we'll get you some help, yeah?” he suggests, and Minho nods tiredly. “For now, I'll give you one of my pills, and you'll be sleeping like a baby.”

“Okay,” he nods gently. Minho gets into some more comfortable clothes again and takes the pill, curling up in his arms. Chan plays with his hair and hums softly, lulling him in with every passing minute. “Love you, Channie hyung.”

“Love you too, Minho baby,” he says softly and kisses his head. Once Minho's actually asleep, he tucks him in and makes sure he's comfortable before he leaves to go and see you. Chan stays with you for a while, talking to himself, telling you about whatever comes to his mind. If he could, he’d stay here all day, but there’s still loads of work to catch up with, and he doesn’t dare leave Minho on his own for too long.

At the company, Chan slowly strolls down the hallway to their practice room and hears the music blasting. He opens the door and finds Felix and Jisung practicing their newest dance. He gives them a tired wave, and Jisung quickly turns off the music.

“Didn’t we agree on you staying home for a few days?” Felix asks him and raises his eyebrows at him.

“It’s suffocating,” he shakes his head, and Jisung glances at him worriedly.

“He’s not getting better, huh?” he asks, and Chan shakes his head.

“I can’t blame him. He was the one driving; I’d blame myself, too. It’s just…today, he simply couldn’t get himself to go to the hospital with me,” Chan tells them quietly and stares at the floor. “I can’t fix this, and it’s driving me insane.”

“Hey,” Jisung says gently. “When you were feeling like shit, neither of them tried to fix you. They held your hand when you needed it and let you go as you needed some space. You can’t fix any of this, just be there for him.”

“I’m trying, Ji, I swear,” Chan huffs, frustrated, tears burning in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“And what would have that changed?” Felix asks gently. “The only difference that could’ve been would be you driving. You think Minho would stand here any differently now then?”

“I hurt him,” Chan says and they frown at him softly. “We got into a fight, and Y/nnie took him out for dinner to cheer him up because I’ve been a complete asshole. She texted me, saying how hurt he was and…maybe he would’ve reacted more quickly and-.”

“Chan,” Felix says firmly. “We’ve seen the footage, there was no chance. The other driver was drunk and racing down that street. There’s nothing he could’ve done. If you truly don’t blame him, you can’t blame yourself either. If you’re saying you made him too caught up in his thoughts to prevent the accident, you’re not only blaming yourself here.”

Chan tiredly rubs his face before nodding. “Yeah, okay, sorry.”

“You should get back home and get some rest,” Jisung says softly and pulls him into a tight hug. “There’s no use in staying here and beating yourself up, worrying about Min when you could be with him right now.”

“Yeah, I know,” he nods and squeezes them both tightly. “I’ll just sort a few things out, then I’ll be gone, promise.”

“Alright,” they nod and wave goodbye.

So three hours in total later, Chan gets back home and quietly glances into their bedroom. Minho's still deep asleep, and Chan decides to join him while he works. He sits down on the bed next to him and gently runs his hand through his hair, turning on his laptop. He sighs softly, spotting the fading bruises on his arm and the healing cut right below his hairline. Of course, Minho had been hurt by the impact as well, but the shock and gravity of your situation made him downplay his own injuries. Chan only found out accidentally when they took a bath two days ago to relax a little. “Oh, kitten,” he whispers to himself and shakes his head at him.

Minho wakes up another three hours later, rolling away from him drowsily. His brain feels fuzzy, his vision is foggy, and he needs a moment to comprehend he's awake. He rubs his face with a groan and blinks heavily, trying to stay awake. Turning onto his back, he spots Chan next to him and squints at him. “Why the fuck are they so strong?” he rasps, voice laced heavily with sleep.

“Well, because I need them to sleep,” he chuckles and gently fondles his hair. “You slept alright?”

“Mhm,” he hums sleepily and stretches his body with a low groan. “How's Y/nnie?” he asks timidly.

“No changes yet,” Chan tells him and thoughtfully stares out of the window. “Min?”

“Hm?”

“I think you should take a break,” Chan says, not looking at him.

Minho shoots up and stares at him. “Why?” he asks dangerously low, suddenly fully awake.

“You're exhausted, baby. You deserve a break,” Chan says, glancing at him.

“And it's just that?” Minho asks sharply, and Chan frowns at him. “Not because you think I'm losing it?”

“What? No,” he quickly shakes his head. “I swear it's because you're exhausted, you worked double with me gone.”

“More like triple because you do way too much, but yeah,” he snickers before huffing softly. “Yeah, okay, you're probably right. Can you sort that shit out?”

Chan smiles knowingly. “I already did. You're on break for a month besides group interviews that get recorded or those two live performances we have coming up.”

“Okay,” he nods, agreeing. “That won't stop me from dragging you home from the studio if you stay too long.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promises and squeezes his hand. “You’re okay?”

“I know,” he giggles softly. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“You’re a menace, Chan,” he shakes his head. “If you don’t cut back a little, you’ll end up overwhelmed and overworked again in a month.”

Minho’s eyes flicker away from his, and he nods firmly. “Of course I am.”

“Kitten?” he asks softly. “Can you promise me something?”

“Depends,” he squints at him suspiciously.

“I need you to be honest with me. If you’re struggling, feeling lost, or overwhelmed, let me know. No matter where I am, no matter how late it is,” Chan says, and Minho stares at him quietly for a minute. “Minho?”

“I can try,” he whispers and searches his eyes. “No, I will try. I promise. Just…don’t expect too much, you know how I am.”

“Yeah, okay,” Chan nods worriedly, and Minho gently kisses his cheek.

“I’ll be fine, I always am,” he says.

One and a half months later

After skipping that one time, it took him a week to go back to the hospital. After that, he didn’t miss a day, sometimes coming here with Chan and sometimes, when Chan’s schedule didn’t fit, coming on his own. He couldn’t deal with not seeing you and talking to you, even though you never answered.

Minho greets the nurse with a kind smile and nervously clutches the flowers in his hand. “Any news?”

“Not yet, Mr. Lee,” she says gently. “She’s stable, that’s what counts. It isn’t getting any worse. Don’t give up hope.”

Minho nods gently. “I won’t,” he says before excusing himself and stepping into your room. He closes the door quietly behind himself and sighs softly, seeing you. “Hey, Y/nnie,” he says gently and makes his way around the bed, replacing the old flowers with the ones he brought. “Got you some flowers…you would like those,” he says and sits down on the chair next to your bed. For a while he simply watches you, watches your chest rising and falling, your lashes resting against your cheeks. The bandages around your head are gone by now, and he hesitantly reaches out, caressing your cheek. “God, I miss you,” he sighs softly and braces himself on the mattress, taking your hand between his. “It’s so quiet at the house now when Channie’s working. Sometimes, I’m stupid enough to believe you’ll come around the corner every second and ask for cuddles. Or ask if I can make you dinner, I miss cooking with you so much,” he rambles on mindlessly. “You’d be surprised how much has changed since you’re not home. Chan is home before twelve every night, can you believe that? He’s really taking care of himself now, you’d be so proud. Also, he asked me to teach him some things around the kitchen, I think he did it so I wouldn’t get bored. I’m seeing a therapist now…never thought I’d ever need that. Apparently, there’s more stuff in my life I need to work through besides that stupid accident. She’s nice, you’d like her,” he says and trails off for a while. Your face before his eyes gets blurry as his eyes brim with tears and his throat tightens up.

It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel like shit about what happened. It’s okay to feel guilty. As long as it doesn’t stop you from moving on with your life and eventually smiling again. He doesn’t know how often he heard those first three sentences in the past few weeks.

Minho inhales shakily and squeezes your hand in his. “I miss you so much, honey. I miss your laugh, I miss acting stupid with you, I miss holding your hand or pulling you close and swaying you through the kitchen. I miss holding you when you’re asleep, and I never thought I’d miss carrying the grocery bags for you this badly. Fuck, I miss your voice and those beautiful eyes looking at me like I deserve all the love you have for me,” he sniffles softly and presses his trembling lips together for a second. “Can you try and wake up soon, Y/nnie honey? I can’t stay strong forever,” he presses out, and his shoulders shake with a suppressed sob. He doesn’t notice the door opening and flinches a little as someone wraps his arms around his waist. Chan’s familiar scent surrounds him, and Minho instinctively leans into his touch. “I’m okay,” he whispers.

“I know,” Chan answers quietly and kisses his cheek. “Some days are just harder than others.”

“Yeah,” Minho sniffles softly and stays in his arms, your hand in his pressed against his face. “You’re early,” he speaks up after a while.

“We finished early,” he nods and mindlessly rubs his side. “Thought I’d stop by and pick you up.”

“Thanks, love,” he says gently. He doesn’t feel safe driving yet, and Chan made sure to pick him up personally whenever he could. Minho pulls back from you with a sniffle, gently resting your hand on the mattress. “No update yet, but they told me it’s a good sign that her state isn’t getting worse.”

“Okay, that’s something,” Chan nods, agreeing, and gets himself a chair, lifting Minho in his lap. “You wanna talk about today?” he asks, gently rubbing his thighs.

“Maybe tomorrow?” he asks, turning in his hold. Chan nods understandingly and squeezes his hand.

“That’s fine,” he says, resting his head on his shoulder. “You know you don’t have to tell me about therapy, but I’m there if you want to.”

“I know,” Minho smiles thankfully and watches you thoughtfully. “I see her every day, and still, I miss her like crazy.”

“Yeah, me too,” Chan nods. “I’m so glad to have you still…I’d go insane on my own.”

“Oh, me too,” he chuckles softly. “You wanna leave? Or can we stay for another bit?”

“We can stay as long as you want to, kitten,” he promises.

One week later

Minho unlocks the front door to your house and drags himself inside. After a quick visit this morning he had been at the company, practicing for an upcoming performance. It’s been two months since you fell into a coma, and according to the doctor, you’re slowly starting to make progress. She told them there was a high chance it wouldn’t take all too long anymore for you to wake up. Minho didn’t care one bit how long it would still take. The fact that you’d wake up again had been everything he needed.

He frowns softly at how quiet the house is. Shouldn’t Chan already be home? Minho slips out of his shoes and calls out for him, getting no answer. “Channie, love?” he asks again, strolling into the living room area. His eyes widen at the sight in front of him, and he covers his mouth in shock. “What the fuck?”

The living room is dark but illuminated by the many strings of light adorning the walls. A huge bouquet of red roses rests beautifully in a vase on top of the sofa table, and the sweet scent of fresh brownies lingers in the air. Minho turns at the sound of the door opening and sees his husband stepping inside with a bottle of wine. “Channie?” he asks softly.

Chan’s eyes widen, spotting him, and his face falls checking his watch. “Hey! You’re home early,” he protests.

“Obviously,” Minho giggles and frowns at him. “What’s all that about? Did I miss something? It’s not our anniversary, right?” he asks worriedly.

Chan puts down the bottle of wine and shakes his head. “I just realized it’s been six long months since I did something nice for you with everything going on. I wanted to surprise you and - no, why are you crying?” he asks softly.

“Sorry,” he giggles through tears. “Happy tears, I swear,” he promises and messily wipes his cheeks.

“Fucker,” he breathes out as his own eyes fill with tears seeing him beaming with joy after all this time.

Minho giggles wetly and closes the distance between them, hugging him so forcefully it makes Chan stumble for a moment. “You’re so sweet.”

Chan smiles brightly and buries his face in his shoulder. “I love you so much, kitten.”

“I love you too,” he whispers and pulls back, beaming at him. They sink into each other’s eyes and Minho can’t help giving in to the invisible string pulling them closer. Their lips meet in a slow, sweet kiss and Minho melts into him, hand buried in his curls.

“I worried this would be too cheesy,” Chan giggles breathlessly as he pulls back for a moment.

“Don’t you ever dare stop being cheesy, yeah?” he whispers.

“Never,” he promises, giggling, and seals the deal with another soft kiss.

PART THREE | PART FIVE

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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