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1plus1kiyoomi · 4 years

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Chapter 15: Harder

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You wake up to the smell of food, so you hurriedly run out of your room. Sliding your way to the kitchen, you see your husband setting up the table. He looks up to you as he feels your presence. “Did I wake you up?”

“Shinsuke, I’m sorry...” you mutter, lowering your head in guilt.

“Come here...” Kita orders in a soft voice, so you oblige. You timidly take steps towards him, stopping 2 steps away from him. He moves close to you, wrapping his arms around you. You let yourself cry on his chest, holding on his shirt tightly.

“I’m really sorry...” You cry, and you feel Kita’s chin on top of your head, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t baby. I was just upset that I was the only one putting on a lot of effort in our marriage. I know you are, too but your work is also important. So, I understand,” Kita tells you, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Kita had plans of not coming home for a week. He wanted to be away from you. He was that angry and upset with you, but he knew that if he went home, he’d forgive you as soon as he sees you. If he sees you cry, he’s willing to put his feelings aside just to make you smile again.

Being away from you and not seeing you for two days was harder than Kita thought. He mused that he would he feel better by not seeing you, but it was just damaging him. All he could think about is you. His mind was clouded with you. It was like he was put under a spell to only think about you.

Saying that he didn’t shed tears being away for you would be a lie. Kita realized that he’s gotten so used to you and being a husband to you. You’re a part of his routine. The bed without your warmth was freezing cold. Waking up without you next to him was a nightmare. You are his ritual.

Kita made a promise with himself that he won’t let you break his walls easily again but he’s here in your kitchen, his arms wrapped around your body, letting you demolish his walls.

“I know I have not been the best partner, but I promise I will work hard to be a wife to you,” you say with confidence, looking at Kita with your crying eyes. His heart softens and aches. Was he too harsh with you? But you understand his side now, so it’s fine right?

“And I promise you that I’ll work harder as your husband.” He gives you a quick kiss on your lips, before wiping the tears off your cheek with his sleeve. “Let’s eat?”

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“I took the whole week off from work, so we’ll do everything you want, okay?” You tell Kita, pulling a blanket over his body. “This week, I’ll take care of you. So you shouldn’t think about the meals and the chores, because I’ll do it all for you. You’re going to rest the whole week.”

“Are you sure?” Kita asks you doubtfully, sitting up from your bed. You push his shoulders back on the mattress, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Yes. So just chill here in bed while I clean the house.”

You leave your bedroom and go to the utility room, taking out the vacuum and mop. You put on an apron and gloves, then tie your hair into a ponytail. You start to clean up at the living room first, since it’s the widest part of your house. Two hours into cleaning, Kita comes out of your room to check on you.

“Why did you stand up? Go back to bed!” You scold him, the laundry basket in your arms. “Rice and I are going out to hang the laundry outside. You better be back in bed when I return.”

“(Y/N)-”

“It’s baby, not (Y/N),” you correct and he lets out a small smile at how cute you sounded.

“Baby, I want to help,” Kita says, walking up to you, but you stop him, by raising your hand towards him.

“You almost had me at baby. Almost,” you sigh. “But no. You have to rest.”

Kita then pouts. “You said we can do anything I want.”

“Yeah I did but I also said you have to rest because you’ve been-”

“I want to cuddle. And that won’t happen anytime if you don’t finish cleaning, so I will help you. That way we can cuddle already,” Kita cuts you off.

A grin and blush make their way to your face, Kita’s word making your heart burst. “You wanna cuddle with me right now?”

“I want to cuddle with you every time. Now let me help you with that,” Kita takes the basket from you, then goes to your backyard. You follow him, smiling like an idiot. Rice looks at you with his judging face and you just roll your eyes at him. He runs to Kita’s side, weirded out from your behavior.

After doing all the house chores, the two of you walk back to your bedroom. Kita is on your back, putting weight on your shoulders, as he giggles like a child. You finally reach your bedroom, and just when you thought your shoulders will finally be able to breathe, Kita suddenly announces, “I’m jumping on your back.”

“Babe, no!” You try to stop him, but he has already jumped, wrapping his legs around your waist. Due to the uneven distribution of weight, you fall to the bed. Kita switches your places midfall, making you land on top of him.

Kita starts laughing so you laugh, too. Nothing’s funny with what’s happening. It’s a laugh caused by contentment. Both Kita and you are just happy to be in each other’s arms after what seemed like an eternity of fighting. Everyone else sees Kita as this serious emotionless guy, and you witness him all smiles and giggles. You feel grateful for that.

“I missed you,” you confess, pulling his bangs up to kiss his forehead. Kita whines, pouting his lips. “What?”

“Kiss.” You do as he says. Dipping your head down to give him a kiss, Kita pushes your hips down, making you sit on his crotch. You let out a yelp, surprised by the sudden contact. You can feel him under you and it’s causing your face to turn red from the heat you’re feeling. “Are you okay?”

“I have to take a shower.” You stand up, then run to the bathroom, leaving your husband confused. “Did I just chicken out?”

Your shower took longer than you thought. You wanted to cool your body down with the water temperature but every time you think about Kita’s- “ah! Stop! Stop! You shall not sin!” You slap both your cheeks, huffing out a heavy sigh. “But we’re married. I can think about that right?”

“Baby, are you okay?” Kita knocks on the door, running from the kitchen when he heard your scream.

“Yes! I just dropped my tooth brush!” You lie.

“Okay, I’ll just be in the kitchen making dinner,” Kita says from the other side of the door.

After a lot of calming down and purifying your mind, you finally leave the room with a heavy feeling. You see Kita on the dining room floor, waiting for you. “What’s the viand?”

“Chicken.” You clear your throat, remembering that you just chickened out. “What’s wrong? You’re turning red.”

“Nothing. I just feel hot,” you reason, sitting across him. He reaches out with his hand, the back of it checking the temperature of your forehead.

“You seem fine to me. Should I get a thermometer?” Kita tilts his head to the side, his hand feeling the temperature on your neck. Oh, how you wish that it is wrapped around your neck instead. You choke on your own thoughts, alarming Kita. “Are you sure you’re not sick?”

“Yes. Let’s just eat.”

“Something’s off, spill it.”

“It’s nothing.”

“We just made up. I don’t want us to argue again, so say it.”

“I was thinking about your...” You are not able to finish your statement, totally embarrassed. Kita doesn’t say anything and starts eating. You say your thanks and eat as well, your face still heating up from the awkward tension your words made.

“You can touch it later,” Kita says out of nowhere, making you choke on your food. He gives you water, chuckling at your reaction.

“Don’t just say that!” You complain, glaring at him.

“Don’t you want to?” He raises an eyebrow, a cocky smile on his face. A look you’ve never thought you’d see on him. You didn’t expect that he’d be the teasing type, so this is taking you aback. You don’t answer him and quickly finish eating. After your meal, you sit at the corner of the kitchen with Rice, staying away from your husband. “Why are you the one with guards up when you’re the one thinking of lewd thoughts about me?”

“I am not!” You deny, looking away from him.

“Whatever you say, baby. I’ll go take a shower. Wash the dishes.” Once Kita is out of your sight, you quickly take the used dishes on the table and wash it. After cleaning up, you run to your old bedroom, where you put some of your clothes in. It’s also the same place where you have hidden your lingerie that you intended for that special time with Kita.

Tonight is the night for that.

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It’s short because ;) just click that last line to find out

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rpmemes-galore · 3 years

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a few people wanted to know the story, so enjoy. fair warning, its a long, rough read, with a buncha triggers possible throughout. but hey, hey, enjoy, i guess? will probs end up deleting this later today and gonna work on memes. hope y’all are doing okay, take care.

My relationship with my older brother has always been really... rocky. Without going into too much potentially triggering detail, he hurt me a lot when I was younger, so there's a lot of fear surrounding him. Saying that now as the reason for why I could never stand up to him for this.

A few years ago, my family decided that someone should move into our late grandparents home to look after the place, and I immediately volunteered. I loved that home, that farm. There were a ton of good memories there, and I was so excited when my family agreed. But, then my health took a downward turn and it was decided I couldn't live alone due to safety reasons. Enter, my older brother. He was in his late twenties at the time, and parents wanted him to finally move out, so they said he was going to come live with me there to keep an eye on me in case something happened. I wasn't happy about it, but he was the only one who could, and the only way I'd get to live at my late grandparent's place, so I agreed to it.

Right from the start, things were not great. He didn't help unbox anything except for his own belongings... No kitchen stuff, no bathroom stuff, just his clothes and computer. As it was just me doing it, and with my fragile health at the time, it was taking me a long while to get it all done. And that's when my aunt thought it was a great idea to start doing weekly visits, i.e. inspections of the place. She got pissed when she saw things still boxed up after a week of being there, but told me she was willing to look past it if it got put away soon.

I busted my butt getting everything put away, then. But I was contending with other issues at that point. He'd started messing up the house. I would wake up to find garbage and crumbs across the kitchen counters and table, dirty dishes dropped wherever he was closest to, and his dirty laundry dropped on the living room floor. His room started getting bad, as well. From about a month of being there, it started to stink. I went in a few times and there would be dishes with rotting food on his dresser. The floor was covered in a layer of food wrappers and other garbage. Dirty laundry was thrown everywhere. His game discs, which we'll come back to later, would be laying unprotected on the floor.

It just got worse from there. At the start, he'd tidy up a little bit after himself. If I asked politely enough, he'd throw garbage away or bring his dishes out of the room... only if I asked him. Three months in. That changed. He started getting snippy at me, slamming and locking his door if I asked him to do anything around the house. His messes were getting worse, and it was just me trying to play catch-up everyday. It got to the point my morning routine was wake up, head out to the kitchen while picking up any dirty laundry / garbage on the way, gather up dirty dishes from around the room and put them on the counter to wash, wash a few of them just to get a headstart, wipe crumbs off all counters and table, wash the rest of the dishes (I still don't understand how he could use so many in a single night), sweep floors if the crumb situation was bad enough. All this before I'd allow myself to have anything to eat or drink, due to sheer panic of my aunt stopping by unannounced again and seeing the place in this state.

My brother was working a very part time job at the time and, as soon as he left for his shift, I would pounce on his room. I'd haul out armfuls (plural) of dirty dishes which I'd then hurry to wash, I'd carry out at least one full, heavy duty garbage bag of trash. I would try to make his bed after brushing off the crumbs. All this in the few hours I had before he'd get back home. And he would always get incredibly pissed at me for it, which I understand. I know it was an invasion of privacy and, if not for the aunt, I wouldn't have done it... But the state of his room was going to get us both evicted, so I felt justified doing it.

It went on this way for a year and half. During that time, he made me bring his game discs in to get them fixed, had me pay for them, and never paid me back. I wound up in the emergency room on three separate occasions, all due to working myself to the point of over-exhaustion and aggravating already pre-existing health problems. Once, when I was away for a few days, he'd turned my room into a storage room. Ie, he threw all his laundry and belongings on my bedroom floor because he didn't want to deal with them. I wound up having to sort through it and pick it all up. He moved the landline phone into his room, essentially cutting off my contact to the outside world behind a locked door as my cellphone barely had any service there. He took food money from me, against my will, to buy his own... Would eat part of it and let the rest rot in the fridge until I cleaned it out. (important note, I have a lot of dietary restrictions. So it's not like I could just snack on it or share it with him. I just had to deal with him basically stealing my food money, then wasting it on food I couldn't even eat.) He would lock himself in his room anytime the aunt came by, making me have to face her wrath on my own, because I had no lock on my door, and I wasn't allowed to put one on. He would barge into my room uninvited, but get pissed if I went into his. He would expect me to play video games with him and throw a fit if I said no, even after I explained that I had too much cleaning to do and, if he really wanted me to play with him, he would have to lend a hand so it would be done quicker and I might have energy to play. He never did. He wouldn't empty out our cat's wet food and would just let it go moldy if I wasn't there for a few days... and would 'forget' to refill her water.

The only jobs he was expected to do around the house were emptying the cat litter for our one cat and vacuuming, both things I physically couldn't do because of severe asthma. And once a week, he was supposed to bring laundry over to our parents place to wash, as we didn't have a washer or dryer. I remember him vacuuming once the whole time we were there. He rarely emptied the cat litter, which meant I would wind up having to do it once in a while and just suffer through a serious asthma attack afterwards. He also rarely brought the laundry over. I wasn't able to drive, so I would wind up having to ask my mom to bring it over with her when she visited. Three jobs. He hardly ever did any of them, but still expected the house to be clean when our aunt stopped by and would be upset if it wasn't. He just didn't want to have a hand in getting it that way.

On the subject of other family, I tried reaching out. My parents would visit on occasion. They both knew how bad it got, they'd seen it at the worst. I'd even called my mom in a full crying panic more than once, when the aunt called in the morning to say she she'd be there in an hour... And the house wasn't clean. Mom had to come over and help me speed clean it, with me working through a full-blown panic attack, scared I wouldn't have it "clean enough" by the time the aunt got there. Mom is also the one who drove me into the ER. She knew how bad it was, but he was her golden child. The "can do no wrong" child, and I was always the problem. She would tell me I was making it out worse than it was, that it wasn't that bad, that it wasn't his fault he was messy, that I should just deal with it and clean up after him. Dad would at least seem sorry for me. He'd tell me he wished my brother would clean up after himself, but that there was nothing he could do. Aunt just didn't want to hear my excuses. She would yell at me for the state of the place, after I'd worked myself half to death cleaning already. She blamed me for it, threatened to kick us out over every tiny thing wrong. Made passive aggressive comments. Took pictures and said she would show them to the rest of our relatives so they'd know how we were destroying the house, ect.

A year and a half of this. I lost a dangerous amount of weight. I hardly slept, hardly ate, anxiety spiked so badly I was having panic attacks at least once a week, especially toward the weekend when I knew the aunt was coming. All of my days were devoted to cleaning up after him. I dropped hobbies just to wash dishes or pick up his garbage. I even pulled an all-nighter just trying to make the house look presentable... After I'd been in the hospital and spent a few days at my parents place recuperating, so you can imagine the state of the house.

Toward the year and a half mark, I met my now husband. When we decided he should come spend the weekend, I was both happy and terrified. I worked myself to the point of passing out to make the place look decent. I asked my brother to help, told him we would be having company, and was met with a slamming door in my face while he went back to his video games. Now husband came up, we had a great time and chose to make it a weekly thing.

It was about a month into that when I went away for the weekend with my then bf. At this point, he kind of knew how bad it could get and just wanted to get me out of there for a few days. He'd even given my brother a piece of his mind for not emptying the cat litter and making me do it, because of my asthma. So brother hated him. Told me to break up with bf for being "rude" to him. Even called my mom to complain about it and it I got chewed out by my mom for "letting" my bf at the time talk to my brother that way. I was beyond sick of brothers bullcrap. I was exhausted. Had been in the ER just recently because of him, again, and needed to get away. Bf took me up to a cabin and we spent the weekend there, had an amazing time. And brought me home. From the second I stepped back into the farmhouse, I wanted to cry. It was an absolute disaster, like the brother had gone out of his way to destroy the place. So much garbage, laundry, dishes, ect. I said goodbye to the bf, who was horrified and reluctant to leave... And I started trying to make a dent in the horror show that was the house. It didn't take long for me to breakdown. When I called the bf that night to make sure he'd gotten home safe, I told him how bad it was. And he invited me to move in with him. I jumped at that chance for more reasons than one.

Brother took immediate issue with this. He threw a fit when I told him. Straight up told me I was being selfish, that I didn't appreciate all he did for me, that how dare I leave, how could I DARE to move in with someone who talked to him that way!! I just packed up a few of my things and went with the bf. Just like that. I was out.

It was three months before I went back to grab a few more of my things. In that time, brother had gotten an eviction notice from our aunt and was having to move back in with the parents. And I don't blame her one bit. Let me paint a picture for you of what I saw when I walked in the house: he'd run out of room for garbage on the counter and table, it was stacked too high, so.. he'd opened the oven, pulled the racks out and was piling garbage up on them, instead. Guess what the only place that didn't have garbage was... The pristine garbage can. The living room floor was covered in his dirty laundry. He had run out of clean dishes and resorted to using Tupperware lids as plates, with the dirty dishes covering the entire counter by the sink or stacked in his room. Speaking of, I caught a glance inside his room. The smell was worst in there. I could tell there was food in there from the time I left... Didn't try to take a step inside, obviously, not that there was a place to step. Keep in mind, this is AFTER the aunt had visited and demanded he cleaned up. She'd seen it this way, blew her top, and he still didn't give a crap. I, on the other hand, panicked. Call it ingrained at this point, but I started frantically cleaning. It was only my bf who stopped me. Had to actually grab my hands and hug me to get me to stop, with me hyperventilating and close to a panic attack. We got my things and got the hell out of there. But not before I noticed my brother seemed upset that I hadn't cleaned up while I was there.

Brother's living back with our parents and has trashed his room there. He's still pissy at me for calling him out on the way he treated me, and thinks I'm still required to be nice to him because mom says I should... and that he did absolutely nothing wrong with the way he behaved. He's also still holding a grudge against my hubby for him having the utter gall to tell him to be an adult and clean up after himself. Mom still denies it was bad (even though she's dealing with it now) or that I have anything residual from that time, despite the fact I told her that I get panicky and shaky when the place I'm living, now, gets even slightly untidy.

For me, I'm happier than I've ever been. I'm essentially no contact with my brother and limited contact with my mom. Just got married. Living with someone who loves me and actually helps with housework, even without being asked! Still dealing with the trauma of living in a place that felt THAT stressful and unsafe, but working on it. Not holding out much hope of brother realizing how entitled he was / is, but eh. He's not worth the time thinking about him.

#not a meme #long post #long post for ts

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geniusgub · 4 years

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BAD DAY//MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

word count: 3k

warnings: body image issues

before we get into the writing i just wanted to say that i’m not, in any way, criticizing mgg’s body in this fic. it is never my intention to make others feel bad about their bodies. i have plenty of experience w that and it feels awful. if anyone has a problem w this fic then please let me know. thank u.

i collapse onto the couch after a long day of cleaning the house, blasting music and dancing around while i have time alone. the house has been in need of a serious cleaning and when i woke up this morning with the energy to be productive, i didn't let it go to waste. the dishes were washed, all the laundry washed and folded and put away, rugs vacuumed, trash put on the curb, bathrooms scrubbed down, and mirrors cleaned of scuffs. and by dinner time, i've finished and feeling accomplished.

matthew has been away at work all day and was only able to spare me one text around lunchtime to tell me that he might be later than usual. i responded with a text that was far sweeter than it needed to be, professing my love multiple times and adding a slew of cute emojis. days that run long typically mean bad days, and bad days mean a very upset boyfriend. that never ends well.

when matthew doesn't arrive home by six, i send him a text to let him know that i'm going to order chinese food for the both of us, and that he can eat when he returns home. i get nothing in return.

i watch tv while i wait for the food to arrive and only half pay attention to whatever is on the tv. my only thoughts are of my boyfriend and how horribly his day must be going. the food arrives and i put it away for later so that neither of us have to eat alone. i take my place on the couch again and wait anxiously for the door to open.

surely enough, the front door swings open and matthew comes stomping in. i hear his backpack hit the floor and then his keys following, and then the door slams closed. he doesn't come into the living room where he know i always am when he gets home, and instead goes rushing up the stairs and presumably to the bedroom. surely enough, the door slams shut a second later.

a heavy sigh falls from my mouth. i shut the tv off and go to pick up the things he had thrown onto the ground. i give matthew a moment alone to collect his thoughts and once i've tucked away his keys and hung up his backpack, i make my way up the stairs and to our bedroom.

i knock on the door softly before entering, my heart breaking at the sight before me. matthew is sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, arms trembling and shoulders shaking. i can hear him sniffling softly, fighting back tears. he looks so helpless and so broken and in the five years that we've been together, i don't think i've ever seen him like this after a day at work.

i close the door gently behind me, and when the door clicks, i see matthew flinch slightly. "hi, sweetheart," i whisper, walking a few steps closer. "can i do something for you? can i help?" matthew hesitates with his answer, sniffling before nodding a tiny bit. "yeah? okay, what can i do?" i move to sit next to him now, a few inches away. i know he won't give me an answer when he's in this state, but sometimes, just asking helps. so i just sit and wait with him as he fights off his tears.

"you can cry, you know?" i whisper. "you can cry if you need to. don't hold it in." matthew shoulders start to shake even more, his hands sliding up and into his hair. he tugs on the strands, letting out a strangled sob for the first time. my heart absolutely breaks, and i reach forward to place a hand on his back, stroking up and down the fabric of his tee shirt. "baby, i'm here right. it's okay. you're okay."

he reaches his hand back and clutches my hand, tugging on it, but not lifting his head. i scoot closer, but as soon as our legs are touching, matthew's other hand starts pulling at my thigh, trying to get me even closer. so i move to stand in between his legs, pulling his hands out of his hair so he won't give himself a headache.

and once his hands are away from his hair, he grabs my waist and pulls me right into his lap, tucking his face into my neck. this is the time that he finally lets himself go, sobbing into my shoulder and holding my waist as tight as he possibly can.

"oh, my love," i coo, brushing my fingers through his hair and running my fingers up and down his spine, "i've got you. i've got you. just let it out. i love you so much."

he hiccups and trembles as he cries, and cries, and cries. i rock him back and forth just slightly, hoping the movement will bring him some sort of comfort and tranquility. and i'm not sure how long we just sit like that, holding each other as i whisper sweet nothings into matthew's ear. but eventually, his cries slow down and he's just shaking in my arms, clutching my sweater.

"can you look at me, baby? it's okay, i've got you," he lifts his head slowly, staring at me with bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks, pretty lips pouting and nose scrunching up as he sniffles. but i give him a smile, raising my hands to wipe the tears off his cheeks and brush his hair off his forehead. "hi, my love."

matthew's lips quirk up in the slightest but they don't stay that way. "hi," he whispers, voice cracking.

"so do you wanna talk about it or go do something else?" i keep touching his face, wiping the new tears away and letting his nuzzle his cheek into my hand.

"something else, please." he says.

"okay, that's fine. are you hungry? do you want dinner? it's in the fridge, i can go heat it up."

"no, no, i'm not hungry." he shakes his head, turning his head to place a kiss on the palm of my hand. "i think i wanna go take a bath, if that's okay?"

"of course that's okay. you do whatever you want. do you want me to come or do you wanna be alone?" matthew just shrugs in response. "okay, well, why don't you go alone and i'll come by in a little while?"

"yeah, okay," matthew nods and slowly ushers me off his lap, dragging himself into the connected bathroom. he closes the door behind him and i hear the water running a few seconds later.

i can honestly say that i've never seen him so upset, at least not in recent times. he's had his fair share of breakdowns over the years but this feels different. he's been upset over a bad day at work or not getting a role, but i can't recall a time when he cried that much.

i go downstairs and, regardless of what matthew said, heat up the food i ordered. i know that he doesn't have time to eat on busy days and usually tears through the fridge and pantry when he gets home. he didn't do that today so i can only imagine how hungry he is.

i leave the food in the microwave so it will stay hot and then head back upstairs. i knock gently on the bathroom door, waiting for a response that i never get. "matthew?" i crack the door open just the tiniest bit but don't poke my head in. "is it okay if i come in for a few minutes?"

i hear the water sloshing around before he hums. "mhm."

i enter the hot bathroom and close the door behind me. matthew's legs are pulled up to his chest, forehead resting on his knees and arms wrapped protectively around himself. i sit down beside the tub and reach over to run my fingers through his damp hair.

"sweet boy," i coo softly, "i know you said you don't wanna talk about what's making you upset, but i think it'll help. i don't wanna force you, but i wanna help you feel better." he leans into my touch when i trail my fingers down his cheek, almost purring like a cat.

"m'dizzy," matthew murmurs so quietly i barely even hear him.

i furrow my eyebrows at him, cocking my head to the side. "you're dizzy? from the heat in here?" i jump up and open the bathroom door so some of the heat can travel out. "did you drink enough water? have you eaten enough today?"

matthew shakes his head no, sniffling yet again. "no."

"no," i repeat, defeated. "well, i heated up the chinese i ordered and i left it downstairs. so maybe you can jump out of the bath and come eat and you'll feel better? sound good?"

i stand and hold matthew's towel out for him as he slowly climbs out of the bathtub. i watch him carefully, making sure his dizziness doesn't overcome him. not that i could do anything like catch him if he fainted. he’s too tall and i’m too short. i pull the plug on the drain and usher matthew back into the bedroom.

i watch in careful silence as he pulls on pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt, scrunching up his nose in the most adorable way. and once he's dressed, he turns to me with his shoulders hunched forward, almost like he's waiting for me to tell him what to do and where to go. i've been doing it since he walked in the door so i suppose he's too far gone that he needs me to continue.

i give him a small smile and grab onto his hand, leading him down to the kitchen. i point to a barstool in a silence instruction to take a seat, and retrieve our food from the microwave.

"so," i state as i sit down and dig into my fried rice, "i finished the next chapter of my book today! it's not the best writing i've done so i'm gonna do extensive editing on it, but at least it's done. i've been stuck on this chapter for weeks and i'm just relieved that i can move on."

"i'm sure what you've already written is amazing," he half heartedly, stabbing a piece of chicken before pushing it off his fork again.

i keep talking about my writing process, and observe him as he plays with his food and doesn't eat anything at all. i've finished my food in ten minutes and matthew hasn't eaten anything. he responds every now and then with short sentences or one word answers, and doesn't lift his head much.

i throw out my containers and fill up a glass with water and ice, placing it beside matthew's hand. i sit on the barstool beside him, facing him instead of forward. "you haven't eaten anything, sweet boy. you need to eat. did you eat anything today?" matthew ducks his head even further down and shakes his head no. i resist my urge to sigh. "okay, can you tell me why? i made breakfast for both of us and i thought you ate."

"no," he shakes his head again. "i don't- i just don't wanna eat."

he's never acted like this before and it's truly heartbreaking. he doesn't seem like the man i feel in love with and he's even a completely different man from the different man he is when he's upset. this is a new version of my boyfriend that i hope makes a one time appearance.

matthew takes a long breath and pushes around his rice before starting to speak. "last week, on set, i had a fitting for outfits for the episode we filmed today. and the kevlar vest that i've been using for years didn't fit. it was too small. so i," he hesitates, and then tilts his head a little towards me. i instantly bring my hair up to his wet hair and start scratching his scalp, "i just, well, this past week i just decided to eat less and hope that i could fit into the vest today. but it didn't work. it was still too small and it looked absolutely horrible. i looked horrible. ugly."

and yet again, my heart breaks for him. i've never really heard of matthew having issues with his body, except for the off comment that he didn't look good in an outfit or that it didn't flatter him. nothing to this extent. but i've had my fair share of body image issues over the years and matthew has always been quick to remind me that i'm stunning, regardless of whether i'm wearing an extra small or a large.

"i'm sorry you feel this way, love," i drag my hand back to the nape of his neck and play with the short hair there. "and i know exactly how it feels to not fit into clothes that you used to fit into. but you've helped me realize that we don't keep the same body every year. our bodies change as we get older. remember that red dress you really liked on me? it doesn't fit me anymore because i'm not as skinny as i was when we met. but i got a new one that suits me better. it's okay for your body to change and there's nothing wrong with it. you're beautiful no matter what, or handsome, if you'd prefer that."

matthew nods, wiping his cheeks when he finally lifts his head. "i just looked so bad today."

"i'm sure you didn't. i always tell you that i look horrible in outfits you think i look good in. everyone is always really hard on themselves and that's natural."

he drops his head again and let's go of his fork, letting out a heavy sigh and resting his hands in his lap. but i stand, moving his hand away and sitting down on his lap, placing my hands right on his ribs. "when you filmed season twelve, you started to work out more. remember?"

matthew nods. "yeah, of course. what does that have to do with anything?"

"you thought that you would put on weight in muscle, and that's exactly what happened. your shoulders got broader, your thighs got thicker. and you know what?" i lean forward until our noses are touching. i manage to get a tiny smile out of him when i give him an eskimo kiss, our noses rubbing together. "i absolutely loved your body before and after you started working out. you know how much i love your thighs. they're sexy, baby. i know that me telling you things like this doesn't really help but i love your body, no matter what it looks like. what your body looks like doesn't define you."

"really?" he gives me the most adorable puppy eyes. "you like my, you know, my body?"

"i love your body, matthew," i move my hands down from his ribs to his stomach, slipping them under his sweatshirt and placing them on his bare skin. "i love everything about you." matthew lets his head fall forward and presses his forehead into my shoulder as i let my hand continue to roam his skin. "i'm not gonna force you to eat if you really don't want to, but i don't want you to starve yourself either. so i'm gonna go, okay? i'm gonna go sit in bed and you can either eat or not and not feel pressured by me staring at you, and you can join me when you're ready."

i place a kiss on matthew's nose before retracting my hands and heading back to our bedroom. part of me wants to hold him down and force him to eat all of his food and another part of me knows that letting him make his own decisions is the right choice. forcing him to eat when he feels badly about his body is the worst thing i could do. it could make him spin even further out of control and that is obviously the last thing i want.

so i curl up under the duvet on my side of the bed and flip the television on, skimming through the channels until i find some random romcom that i watched with matthew years ago. i leave that on and start scrolling through my social media.

just a few minutes later, matthew comes wandering into the room and closes the door behind him. when he walks towards the bed, i notice he's holding his pint of fried rice in his hand, and while i would normally not support eating in bed out of fear of getting the sheets dirty, i make an exception for this.

he gives me a weak smile as he climbs in beside me, instantly tangling his legs with me. i roll over and rest my head on his chest, bringing my arm around his stomach, resting my hand in his sweatshirt pocket. i try my hardest to ignore it as matthew scoops rice into his mouth slowly. i can tell it's a little bit of a chore for him to be eating, but nonetheless, i'm proud of him for doing it, even if he only eats a few pieces of rice.

"we watched this movie a long time ago. one of our first dates, right?" matthew mumbles.

"mhm," i nod against his chest, "we watched this in your house in the living room and ate pizza and complained about the acting."

"i love you," matthew randomly confesses, leaning down to press his lips to my forehead. "thank you. i don't know what i'd do without you."

"well, you'll never have to find out because you're stuck with me," i quip, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "and i love you too. a whole lot. and i love your tummy too. i think i might love your tum more than i love you. no offense."

#matthew gray gubler #matthew gubler #mgg #gublernation #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler fic #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler one shot #matthew grab gubler x oc #spencer reid #dr spencer reid

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sirowsky · 3 years

Text

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Warnings: Language

Link to Masterlist

Comment: Hint to what the title is all about, and plenty of Máma Moreno.

Chapter 6

The house was a mess, to say the least. You had left in a hurry that evening, after things had taken a very sharp turn towards very bad, shortly after your dinner. You’d been glad that you had only eaten a light pea soup, when it came back up again some ten minutes later. You’d only just made it to the bathroom, but after the food had been coughed up, a large amount of fresh blood had followed, and you knew you were in trouble. Why you hadn’t called for that ambulance was anyone’s guess, but then, you had never liked being a bother, and you had been perfectly capable of walking out to the cab. It was just that, in the twenty minutes that the drive had taken, you’d gotten significantly worse. Your whole body had started hurting, you’d begun bleeding from the nose and ears, and just as you got to the hospital, you had begun to get spasms and cramps in your spine and legs. When you staggered into that emergency-room, you did it truly convinced that you’d leave it in a coffin.

You shuddered slightly with the memory, as you walked through the house, opening all the blinds and pulling all of the curtains back again. It was already late, and thus dark outside, but you wanted to wake up to a house that bathed in sunlight in the morning. The kitchen was probably the worst, in terms of the amount of cleaning that would need to be done. The remnants of your cooking that evening where still on the counter and in the dishes, and the amount of mold that was growing in there was somewhat disturbing. You couldn’t leave that for the morning, you’d lose every ounce of appetite waking up to that crap. So, you set about throwing away everything that had been left out on the counters and in the sink, and quickly scrubbed all the open surfaces clean, before handwashing some of the glasses, plates, mugs and cutlery, that had gotten dusty even sitting in the cabinets, in the four months you’d been gone. Once the kitchen felt usable again, you went to the bathroom to check what state that was in. It wasn’t too bad. You flushed all the pipes and let the water run in the sink and the shower for a good half-hour to clean them out, and begin to work away the smell of stagnated water. The toilet needed a decent scrub too, but it could wait until morning. It was after midnight when you’d finally changed the sheaths in the bed and settled in for the night.

A sharp rapping on your door woke you after what seemed like mere seconds. But the sun was up, so you looked at your wrist-watch – 06:15 – and sighed. Who the fuck would be there at that hour? Grumbling into your pillow, you turned over and decided that whoever it was would have to come back at a more decent hour.

“Come on now, mujer, I don’t have all day.”

You physically jumped at the sound of Anita Moreno raising her voice behind your front door. She wasn’t shouting, just applying a good amount of force to her voice. Just enough to make you feel a size smaller than usual. You scrambled out of bed and grabbed a robe which you put on whilst walking towards the door. You had no idea what you looked like, but you hoped there was an air of scarecrow to you. You’d found her intriguing when you first met her the day before, but she was little more than a damned annoyance right now. You were not a morning person, and especially not today when your body was tired and sore from the tests.

“I’m not gonna ask if you know what time it is, because you obviously do, and you obviously don’t care, so don’t beat around the bush and just tell me what the hell you want so I can go back to bed and finish waking up.”

“You always this cheerful in the morning?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll be sure to let Marcus know.”

“What does my morning mood have to do with Marcus?”

“Nothing. Yet…”

What? No, no, don’t let her distract you, idiot.

“What do you want, Mrs. Moreno?”

“Tell me, what kind of flowers do you like?”

Nope. You’re not doing this, whatever it is, you’re not doing it at 6 fucking 15 in the morning.

“Have a nice day, Mrs. Moreno.”

As you went to close the door, she simply barged right in, straight past you, and completely unbothered walked into your kitchen while you scrambled after her, shocked and abruptly furious.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

“Don’t you cuss at me, mujer.”

“If you want me to treat you politely, then don’t fucking barge into my house uninvited.”

“Calm down, I’m not staying for breakfast. I just want you to answer a few questions.”

Unbelievable.

“You’ve got some nerve.”

“I’m old, mujer, I don’t have time for intermissions. Now, tell me, what kind of flowers do you like?”

You were fuming, but this woman was a super. She wasn’t leaving until she decided to leave. So, you took a breath.

“Dahlias.”

“Interesting choice. Why?”

“What does it matter? What do you want from me?”

“Do you know the origin of Dahlias?”

“Why? Am I to expect a pop-quiz banging on my door tomorrow?”

“The Dahlia came from my ancestors, the Aztecs, they called it The War Flower. Nowadays, it’s known as the King of summer flowers, because of its wide range of shapes, sizes and colours. It has something of a demanding presence, you never walk past a Dahlia without seeing it. And yet, it doesn’t ask you for much.”

“Do you have a point, or is this becoming a lecture on the mythology of flora? Because I will go back to bed and ignore you until you leave.”

“It’s an observation. What’s your opinion on supers?”

“Are you serious? Ugh, forget it, of course you are. Fine. I have nothing against them, but I don’t adore or idolize them. They’re flawed just like the rest of us.”

“What’s Marcus’ flaws?”

“He’s… too kind for his own good sometimes. He let’s people walk all over him if he thinks that it’ll keep the peace. And he… tries to carry the whole world by himself if you let him.”

She smiled.

“Good. You’re hired. I expect you at Heroics HQ at 7 am tomorrow morning.”

…what THE FUCK…?!

She walked back towards the door, while you stood dumbstruck just staring after her. She had reached the door by the time you unfroze and ran out to the hallway.

“Wait, what the hell are you talking about? Hired for what? I didn’t ask you for a job.”

“No, you didn’t. But you need one, and I’ve got one. Take it or leave it, if you’re not there by 7, I’ll know what you chose.”

You stood in the door, watching her disappear into a black SUV, and drive off.

Did that actually just happen? It must have, there was no way in hell you’d ever even dream something like that. You shook your head, and decided that there was no point in going back to bed now, your head was buzzing, so you might as well have breakfast and get the cleaning going. As you went to the bathroom you caught your reflection in the mirror, and smiled to yourself. There was definitely an air of scarecrow. You turned the TV on while you made tea, and tried not to think about what had just transpired in your kitchen. You had always loved coffee before, never started the day without it ever since you were 16. But your body seemed to have become oversensitive to it after your cellular breakdown. You’d had your first cup about a month ago, and it had really done a number on you. You’d been hyperactive for hours with uncontrollable twitches and insistent trembling in your hands. You’d given it a second try a week later, but even just half of a small cup had resulted in the same outcome, so you had accepted that your coffee-days were over. You were actually really starting to like tea, especially the spicier types.

The news showed a highlight reel from the Heroics latest outing, and you found yourself glancing at the footage, looking for a glimpse of Marcus. You saw him flash by as he fought someone, or something, you weren’t sure, and then again when the fighting was over. He looked confident and strong when he was out there. When he had an enemy in front of him, and a clear task. It was enticing to watch. Oh, who were you kidding – it was fucking hot! You shook your head and turned the TV off as you finished your breakfast. There was a lot to do to get the house in order, and you had a plan to get it all done. The problem was that a certain uninvited guest kept popping into your head, distracting you with thoughts about flowers and what the hell that job was all about? So, by lunchtime, you weren’t anywhere close to where you’d hoped to be. You’d managed to wipe down all the surfaces where dust accumulated, and the vacuuming was done. But you’d hoped to have washed the floors and beaten the carpets and cleaned the refrigerator and freezer by then.

Oh, well. Rome and all that.

You decided to have pizza for lunch and called in an order. But later, as you were eating said pizza, you had something of a lightning moment. You didn’t need to sit there and just fidget and wonder and worry about what you were gonna do tomorrow. You could just go back to HQ and talk to Marcus. He’d only be happy to see you, he’d said as much when you went to find him to say goodbye. It hadn’t been a very long exchange, since you’d been eager to get going, knowing there’d be things you’d have to do before going to bed. But he had said that he’d miss you and that you’d always be welcome to visit them. So, why not? If anyone could tell you what Máma Moreno was up to, it’d be her son.

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight

@farfromjustordinary

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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fieryhuntress · 3 years

Text

The Curse of the D : The Prologue. Multifandom Fic!

Note: This fic is going to be multifandom fic. And to layout the foundation, I had to add this prologue. Sorry that this part doesn't have any character from any fandom. I tried to add that story into this part, but it was getting too long. So I decided to divide it and make that as a part 2 of this story.

This fic is a part of #7daysnosmutchallenge. I really do hope you enjoy it. Thanks <3

And thank you @agirllovespancakes for initiating this challenge.

So here we go!! :)

It was Friday evening. You were waiting for the weekend to finally start. You were trying to complete all your work at the office, so that your manager doesn’t bother you in the weekend. Like he did in the last couple of weekends. You were exhausted and you wanted some rest.

Finally you complete what you have been working on since yesterday. You mail your manager the details and close your laptop. Finally. Now you can go home and start enjoying your weekend. And rest. You pack your bag, and leave your office.

When you reach home, you take a hot bath and put on your PJs. You turn on your tv, scroll through it to watch something while you have your dinner. Searching what to watch gotta be the hardest thing in the world. Why is it so difficult to choose a movie or a show to watch. Half of the meal gets cold by the time you finally choose something. But well, that’s also part of the life, so what you gonna do.

You were finished with your meal, and were waiting for the episode of the show you were watching to end, so you would get up and wash the dishes.

Suddenly you feel your room getting brighter. You look around to see what is happening. The brightness keep increasing. It is almost blinding. You squeeze your eyes to try to understand or see what is happening in the room. You look around, but the light is so bright that you can’t see anything.

And then with a burst of more light, your room returns to its actual brightness. You stay still, and wonder, “Did this is actually happen? Or was I imagining things? How tired am I?”. It almost felt like some firework went off, but without any sound effect.

Just as you were debating if what you saw was an imagination or not, you hear a voice from behind, and it startles you so much that you jump in your couch.

“Hi, we are sorry to interrupt.”, said a male voice.

You look behind and see two people, in robes. Long robes.

“What the hell! How did you get inside my house?” you ask in horror. You get up from the couch and start searching for something which could be used as a weapon. Or at least help you to beat them up. You see the remote of your tv near you and grab it. Obviously that isn’t going to be helpful. So you keep looking for something which would be more useful, while also keeping an eye on them.

“Please. Don’t be afraid. We are not here to hurt you. We need your help. Please.” said the woman. She was wearing a blue colored robe with weird embroidery. She sounded desperate. There was urgency in her voice.

You relax for a second to observe them. The guy, who was wearing a red colored robe, with again some weird embroideries sewn into his robe, was looking at you. But he didn’t look that desperate. His expressions looked different from the woman’s. He looked a bit more arrogant. Or was he just a serious looking person, you wondered.

“Who are you? And how did you get inside my house?”, you ask. Your guard is still up.

“I am sorry to drag you into this. But if we had any other solution, we wouldn’t have come here. But you are our last hope.”, she said.

“Last hope? For what?”, you ask.

“For our world.”, replied the guy.

“For our world? Who are you guys?”, you ask.

“No. Your world is safe. We are talking about ours. We are not from your world.”, she says.

“What? You are kidding right?”, you say in disbelief.

“I know, it sounds all weird and strange. But we don’t have much time. And we need your help. Our general. He is captured by these monsters who are going to destroy our world. And without him, we don’t stand a chance. And you are the answer to free him. We got your coordinates from this scroll, and we travelled here to ask for your help.”, she replies.

“My help? But how am I supposed to help you. I don’t even know how I can help you. I am just a normal person. And by the way, did you guys cause that bright light thingy which almost blinded me?”, you ask.

“Are you sure we are even at the right place?”, the guy asked her. His tone sounds irritated. As if he is running out of time and doesn’t want to waste it talking to you.

“Shut up Dimitri. I am trying to talk to her. She is our last hope. Please let me talk”, she snaps at him. “I am sorry about him. But he means good. The thing is, the bad guys has captured our general in some sort of enchanted prison. And this scroll is the solution to free him. And inside this scroll, we found a piece of parchment, with the coordinates to your place. And that’s why we are here to asking for your help. We believe you can free him.”

“Okay?”, you say curious to know what you have to do.

“Here, this is the scroll. I hope you can figure out a way.”, she replies and hands you the scroll.

You take the scroll from her hands and look at her.

“So what do I have to do?” you ask.

“The scroll will help you.”, she replies.

The room begins to brighten again.

“It’s time.”, Dimitri says looking at her.

“We are running out of time. Please help us free our general. We have to return back to fight the monsters. You are all the hope that our people have.”, she says. The brightness keeps increasing while she was saying those words.

Your eyebrows tense at her words. It seems like a lot of responsibility. But before you can say another word, the light in the room becomes so bright, it almost blinds you again. And before you know it, it’s back to the normal brightness. And both the people in robes, are gone.

You look down at the scroll in your hand. You see some spiral-like design etched into the sides of the wooden handle of the scroll.

You open the scroll.

You would have face-palmed yourself if your hands were free.

You see that the writing in the scroll was in some weird language that you didn’t understand. But the script was in English. So you try to read it.

“Qui nominatur in D, Non est qui clavis vestri erunt.

Requirunt saxa terreni ignis glacies, Et plangent se bis leporem, si opus erit.

Et lux in tenebris, et maledixi pulchritudini eius, Saxa convertere vivit erit congreganda.”

You don’t understand a thing. You are frowning at the scroll, trying to understand what to do with this. And that’s when you feel it again. The lights in the room getting brighter. Again. And this time, you feel your body getting a little warmer too. This didn’t happen before.

You feel anxious. But why are you feeling warm this time? And before you know, the light gets so bright, that it’s blinding. You close your eyes in reflex. And suddenly, you feel like you are being pulled into something. As if a huge vacuum cleaner is sucking you inside.

Then for a split second you feel like you are falling down. And then you feel a thud.

#7daysnosmutchallenge #multifandom fanfiction #quests

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anotheronechicagobog · 3 years

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Functional Dysfunction - Chapter 2 - Rheese

written by @anotheronechicagobog

Warnings: talk about abortion, unplanned pregnancy, forceful admittance to hospital, swearing

Sarah was so thankful that she had a day off. She didn’t think that she could handle an interrogation. Not from Maggie or Natalie individually, much less so together. Her abortion was scheduled to take place in three days, she’d arranged to have that day off too, but for now, all Sarah wanted was to keep her mind off of everything, so she tied her curly hair into a bun, started blasting ABBA and cleaning her apartment. She’d gotten into the zone and hadn’t comprehended the time until she’d hit her shin on her coffee table for the umpteenth time while dancing around using her duster both as a cleaning tool and a mic. She plopped down onto her couch and looked at her work. She wasn’t a neat freak, but her place was usually pretty clean. Yes she’ll leave far too many books out on the coffee table, she doesn’t vacuum every week, and she refuses to buy dishes that can’t go in the dishwasher, but there’s no mold or layers of dust or strange smells, and she can always find what she needs when she needs it. But now, everything was put away, there wasn’t a stray coffee mug or spoon out on the counter, her apartment smelled like lemon Mr. Clean, and she was starving.

She untied her hair as she made her way down the street, letting the wind blow through it, cooling her from head to toe. She cut through the park, just enjoying the fall colours and not being drowned in stress for once. She let her mind wander, from a new Harry Potter fan theory she’d read on Tumblr to what she was going to get when she got to the Mills family diner. Her musing was cut short when she smacked right into someone. Her flustered apology was halted in her throat when the person gently held her arms to stabilize her. They were familiar, she’d felt them yesterday when she stood up too fast. She looked up as he released her. “Dr. Rhodes, sorry about that. I was a little lost in my head.”

“No worries, truthfully, I was spaced out too. And seriously, you can call me Connor, at least outside of work.” And for the first time, ever probably, Sarah took a good look at him.

Though he smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes. They were a piercing blue, but they looked so... Tired. There was a discernible aching sorrow vividly holding his soul hostage. His hair was mussed and it looked like he’d been trying to yank parts of it from his scalp. His shoulders, while strong and broad, were incredibly tense. Sarah actually started to feel pain in hers just looking at him. His skin clung closer to his body than it probably should have, and his pallor making her uneasy. He moved his hands back to his sides, and in all honesty that was probably the most concerning part of him. People often made the mistake of thinking surgeons had soft hands, but that wasn’t true. They didn’t get callouses from their jobs, but their hands were by no means soft. They had to thoroughly wash their hands, forearms, and elbows, before and after every surgery or medical procedure they performed. Plus they had to use hand sanitizer before and after they worked on or even met with a patient. It took a toll on their skin, and you could often tell how much a surgeon had been working based on the condition of their skin. And Rh-Connor’s... It was dark pink, going into his sleeves so she couldn’t see how far up the problem extended to, the skin was cracking, and it felt like scales as opposed to skin.

“Alright, Connor, what are you up to?”

“I’m just walking, I guess.”

“It’s a nice day for it. How’s Robin doing? I haven’t seen her in a while.” A dark look crossed his face and Sarah immediately kicked herself, this was obviously a very stressful, very private, matter that she had just callously asked about. Yes, she had a lot going on, but she should have realized that there was a reason. A secret. “I’m so sorry I didn’t-”

“Robin’s been admitted to psych.” Connor hadn’t told anyone, and had gone to great lengths to keep it as much of a secret as possible. She worked there, her father worked there, he worked there, none of them needed Robin’s situation to be broadcast all over the hospital. But honestly, it felt great to tell someone, to tell Sarah, someone who wasn’t directly involved. Dealing with Dr. Charles throughout, the man who’d forcibly admitted his daughter to psych in the first place, and Ms. Goodwin who supported Dr. Charles, as well as all the staff treating Robin, was exhausting.

“What?”

“Robin was admitted to psych... By Dr. Charles.”

“Oh my god, are you serious? Is that even legal?!”

“It’s... Yeah, it’s a whole thing... Situation. Wow, uh, TMI, I guess. Sorry to spring all of that on you. What are you up to?”

“Uh, well, still pregnant, still getting an abortion. I was just going to get lunch. At the Mills family diner? Uh, I’ve spent the whole day cleaning and avoiding Maggie, and Dr. Manning, and J- the father. You could come, if you want, to the diner I mean, not avoiding the father of- okay this has gotten...” Connor just chuckled, his eyes starting to look slightly less miserable. “I probably won’t be good company, but if you don’t mind...?”

“Not at all, come on, and I’m sure that you’ll be great company.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lunch was surprisingly pleasant. It was awkward at first, but they found a rhythm. Honestly, they just ended up spending the entire time talking about Parks and Rec and Supernatural. It was so nice to talk about anything other than work and the plights in their lives. Connor looked slightly less strung out than when Sarah had first run into him. He seemed a little lighter and his smile really seemed more like a relief to himself. When he first gave Sarah that face-splitting, teeth=showing, jubilant smile he seemed to have shocked himself, confusion plastered all over his face, before a gentle smile flittered in and his body visibly released tension. Since then, he hadn’t stopped smiling, beaming brightly at her. Sarah briefly wondered if he’d smiled at all recently, with how turbulent his life has been. The silence between them was soft and warm. Comforting. They took the time to regard each other without any pressure or professional constraints, and it was nice. Connor sat across from her munching away on his corned beef sandwich, occasionally slurping away at his chocolate milkshake. The vigour with which he’d been eating made her wonder if he was actually taking care of himself. She took another bite of her Gabby’s mac ‘n cheese and savoured... Everything. The taste, her company, the atmosphere, this moment in time was the least hectic or nerve-wracking she’d had since she noticed her cycle was off. So she was just enjoying it while it lasted.

“You okay, Sarah?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You just seem sluggish. And we’ve been here for a while and you’ve barely made a dent in your food, plus you’re drinking peppermint tea.”

“My morning sickness hasn’t been great, if I’m honest. This is normally my favourite thing on the menu, and I don’t normally like pancakes because they’re so starchy but lately they’re all I’ve been wanting to eat! It’s so annoying. This at least has chicken and loads of vegetables. And hey, pregnancy is tiring! I’m always so sore and achy. Plus caffeine withdrawal is ripping me a new one.”

“You know, if you’re having an abortion, you don’t necessarily have to abide by all the pregnancy can’ts. They won’t really matter, anyway. So, why are you following all the guidelines?”

“I don’t know. It just feels like... They’re still here. They still matter. I’m still their mom, I still have to take care of them.” She shrugged a little and stared at the rim of her white mug, fiddling with the handle. Unable to handle the weight of Connor’s gaze and her own words.

“Maybe you should have ordered the chicken noodle soup. Their recipe is really good, plus it’ll be light on your stomach.” Her eyes snapped to his. There was nothing but sincerity looking back at her. There was a little concern, and the question she’d been avoiding suddenly became tangible and took a seat beside her, whispering ‘are you sure you want an abortion?’ delicately in her ear. But he didn’t ask her. He didn’t make any comments or judgments. He was just there, across from her, offering her kindness and food. She moved the plate away from in front of her and smiled sheepishly at him as he flagged down Peter. “Hey guys, is everything alright? Reese, you’ve hardly touched your food.”

“She’s not feeling super great, do you think we could get a bowl of chicken noodle and a container for the pasta?”

“Yeah, no problem Rhodes, everything will be right out.”

“Connor, you don’t have to do this, but I do really appreciate it.”

“Good, because I appreciate you too and everything that you’re doing for me. Don’t look so confused, you’ve been a great sounding board and distraction. And I honestly really needed that. Plus, I figured that since I’ve got dirt on you so you can’t tell anyone about the Robyn thing.” There was absolutely no malice in his words and Sarah couldn’t help but laugh. It really was a relief to have someone to talk to about her baby, and he was right, if he did suddenly just spill the beans she could do the same in retaliation. She doubted he ever would though, he was an incredibly private person and valued privacy more than Ron Swanson. “Doris would have a field day with us, wouldn’t she?”

“Oh hell, Sarah, don’t even joke about that. If she knew...” She laughed again at his overdramatic shudder. But she knew he was right. No one could know. Especially not Doris.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was late in the day when they finally left the diner, the air cooling down from crisp to chilly, the winds much harsher and stronger than usual. Sarah’s apartment was only a ten-minute walk away but Connor insisted on taking her home. She’d managed to talk him out of walking her to her door, but not of driving her there. “What kind of guy would I be if I let a pregnant woman walk home alone when the weather just got worse?” Something in his tone, and the way he spoke so freely about her pregnancy, made her think that he knew something she wasn’t willing to consider just yet, but she was trying not to think about it. Instead, she focused on the interior of Connor’s luxury car. “Is this silver? On the door handles?”

“No... It’s platinum.”

“Really?!”

“Yes. What, do you want to hear about all the extravagant features in this car?”

“Oh absolutely.”

“Seriously?”

“Mostly cause I know it annoys you, but yeah.”

“Well, another time then, because we are here.”

“After a two-minute car ride. I could have walked myself.”

“I grew up here, you didn’t, when the wind gets that bad it’s best to avoid the outdoors.”

“Alright, well thanks for the ride and for looking out for my safety.”

“No problem, I’ll see you at work tomorrow, right?”

“Depends. I’ll spend most of the day avoiding Maggie and Manning which will involve lots of hiding.”

“Well, maybe we could hide together? I doubt that Robyn’s admittance to the hospital will stay secret for long. Plus, today was nice. We should hang out again.”

“We should, it really was refreshing. And, uh, if you do need a place to hide tomorrow, my spot is on the second floor of the atrium in the small hallway behind the janitor’s closet on the right side. There’s a couch there and because nothing else is down there no one really uses it, and it can be pretty quiet. As long as you don’t tell anyone else, you’re free to use it.”

“Thanks, Sarah. Something tells me I’ll be needing that information.” The weight that had evaporated over the course of the afternoon seemed to return, his movements slowed, his limbs appeared heavier, his smile dropped, and his eyes went dark, reflecting pain and exhaustion. Sarah honestly just wanted to give him a hug. But she couldn’t. They didn’t know each other that well, and spending the afternoon with him was already a little strange, despite how nice it was. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Connor. You should go home, get some sleep. You seem... Tired.”

“I am. And, I think I’ll do just that. Thank you, Sarah, really. This afternoon was really what I needed. And I do want to do it again sometime.”

“Then we will. Bye Connor.”

#One Chicago #chicago med #Chicago Fire #Sarah Reese #connor rhodes #connor rhodes x sarah reese #sarah x connor #rheese #Natalie Manning #peter mills

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jae-canikeepyou · 4 years

Text

| serenity in us | j.jh | ch. one

word count: 2.9k+ ( putting this now yay :3 )

a/n: hey hi hello~ i’m back with another series! i was gonna wait until my semester’s done but my patience’s killing me and i don’t wanna keep you all waiting so here you go! ♡ enjoy! ~j

“serenity is found somewhere between the sky and the sand.” you read the font words on the minimalist frame. it was a quote you heard in an ongoing, constant dream that you thought was needed to be drawn and remembered. in it, the quote was a voice as if a narrator spoke those words to begin something new. the scenery you ask? every place was different but there was always a horizon. the dream was vague and raised a lot of question marks in your mind the moment you wake up.

you hung the item on the wall, marking the end of unpacking your things since moving in days ago. the mess was finally cleared out and the boxes were emptied and folded briefly, lined on one side of the wall. you slouched low in exhaustion, sliding your home slippers across the white marbled floor. it was squeaking even, that only explained how much of a neat freak you were. a new apartment, simple furniture and man oh man, you have an automatic vacuum with a sensor that you didn’t have to worry about the dirt at the annoying, impossible corners.

independence was something you were blessed with despite being an orphan as early as two. uncle caleb; a friend of your father’s and aunt jenn; your mother’s half-sister, gladly took you in as their own.

honestly the mention of your beloved felt like they were still alive and just working abroad, because they were always reminded and talked about from your uncle and aunt. you had a striking resemblance with your mother, but the ways were your father’s. ‘a perfect combination of the two’, was how they described the child they never wanted to leave behind.

the door bell rang and the small screen showed your childhood— and best friend, eunha. she waved at the super tiny camera and had some flowers and bento boxes with her, all packed and nicely decorated. you pressed the button for her to enter. whilst you waited, you played an hour long track list of soothing, chill, instrumental songs to make the apartment a little noisy. one thing’s for sure, silent cleaning was not a good habit since you tend to procrastinate, oops.

eunha greeted you a hug so tight, placing down the things she brought with her. “y/n! i’m so glad we’re living so close to each other!” she hugged you and fanned herself as if that would stop her eyes from welling. “how’s everything with you? you should’ve called me honey! you know i’ll be coming straight away to help! i have a hotline like the powerpuff girls has.” she winked.

“i’m great! i crossed out the things i completed and now free from the stress. i’m ready for the new semester.” you gestured her to sit, inviting her for the meal you prepared. “well i am the bubbles to your blossom~ but it’s really okay! i managed and here we are talking freely without stressing over things.”

her hands held yours and swung them with excitement. “after we eat, do you want me to bring you around town? there’s a vinyl record store i think you’ll like.” her voice beaming as she singsonged, chewing on the pancake with whipped cream and blueberries.

“it’s still 9 a.m. we have loads of time in the world.” you showed your watch.

the leaves began to fall and you twirled around the sidewalk’s lamppost. eunha took pictures of you, happiness written on your face. you both entered the said shop. records displayed and hung on the wall, posters of legendary artists and worldwide singers encouraging customers to come in.

your hands trailed along the shelf that had new and limited turntables. as much as you were itching to pull out your wallet, there were other important things you needed to worry about and independence meant discipline too. your fingers curled and hesitated, just inches left before you could touch the surface of the one thing you’ve always wanted to purchase.

eunha giggled at your whiney, surrendered self. your back turning away from the product and walking towards her. “y/n.” she called your name, but this certain tone was serious and was more of a reminder.

“i know.” you smiled as you wiggled your phone with the ever precious wallpaper of yours.

“oh! your aunt’s calling you.” she hopped and pointed at the device, making you sliding fingers on the screen a second later. she gestured that she’d head out and wait for you.

“hi aunt jenn.” you greeted on the phone, only to extend your arm slightly at the baby’s cry on the other line. “aw he’s crying again?”

“yes y/n. i’ll be heading to work soon. can you come here?” she chuckled, though it was obvious she had the baby in her arms.

you exited the store and pulled eunha, crossing the pedestrian. “alright, i’ll be on my way.”

the office was dead silent and not one soul dared to speak. three figures stood in front of the angered woman; their continuous fiddles of the fingers and tapping of the toes became faster as they tried to come up with a reason to tell. just one. only the ticking of the clock on the table was heard. it was getting harder and harder to breathe even in a hundred square meter room.

“where is he?!” she yelled. the three flinched and were taken aback, hands either behind them or wrapped around an arm. the door then flung opened, revealing the said guy.

“young man, how can you be so inconsiderate?!” the woman asked again, this time it was in an annoying range of decibel that the listeners had to endure the volume.

jaehyun brushed past the ‘meeting’ and sat in one of the leather chairs. his legs rested on the centered table, obviously not bothering to listen. “so, being a minute late concludes my actions in general?” he chuckled bitterly, spinning the chair around before standing up again.

“i couldn’t care less,” he now glared at the woman. “about this damn meeting. what is it for, anyway?! wasting my time!”

he left the room and the woman rubbed her temples, swinging her palms to tell the rest of the three to follow the young man. “jaehyun.” yunho called his brother, reaching a hand out to grab him, successfully turning the lad around.

“what?” jaehyun snapped, removing the grip onto his body.

krystal rolled her eyes, the pungent smell entering her nostrils. “you reek, jae.”

“you went drinking again, didn’t you? i could smell the moment you came into the office.” yunho asked, pressing the button of the lift to head down.

“when will you learn, honestly?” jessica fixed her bag on her arm. “grow up.”

jaehyun clapped his hands, applauding the expected words that woman instructed his siblings to do. “me? learn? i already did. i just won’t follow orders from that silver digger.”

“gold*.” they corrected him.

“see you’re still drunk.” krystal meddled with her new manicure, earning a nudge from jessica.

“whatever, noona. you get my point either way.” jaehyun fished out his car keys to toss them up high, whistling his heart out at his favourite tune.

they exited the building and got on the car. he dropped off his sisters at the blanc and eclare flagship headquarters, then drove to a nearby restaurant for lunch with yunho. they entered the place and went to the reserved table. jaehyun sat and loosened the buttons of his polo, removing the neck tie and sat back.

yunho stared at his carefree little brother, he put the menu down so he could maybe give him a little serious talk. he understood why jaehyun acted the way he did earlier. even he himself could do the same but given the circumstances of his standing in the family, of course he’d be the mature one. he was the first child anyway.

“got anything you want?” yunho asked, removing his sunglasses then placing them in its case. “i’ll pay.”

“nah, let me pay for my own meal, hyung.” he flashed a small smile. “i got my pay check.”

“so you still do have a heart.” yunho jokingly stated the overseen fact.

“c’mon you’re smarter than that doctor jung.” jaehyun said the occupation title in a childlike tone. “you should know why i’m filled with hatred towards the woman.”

“hatred is such a strong word, offensive even. but seriously jae, how long are you going to keep up with this behavior? the next thing you know it, you’re out of the penthouse.”

yunho raised his hands to order. the young lad didn’t dare to answer and he sighed at the usual unresponsive manner whenever they hit this certain topic. “look i know for the longest time she treated us like how captain george von trapp did to his kids. i get it. you hated how she uses out-of-the-world discipline and i totally understand that-”

jaehyun scoffed, disbelief clearly written on his face. “i was six when she entered our lives. a kid that age couldn’t handle being shoved around just because he thought there was no difference between boxers and pajama shorts. the sound of music is cool reference by the way.”

“you did have confused mind back then. and what else can i compare it with? she probably took the idea from there.” yunho laughed as he handed the utensils and handkerchief. “but still though, i suggest you man up and act like you do with dad. just be yourself.”

“easier said than done.” jaehyun began slicing his steak and popping one bit into his mouth.

“what makes you so stone cold towards her anyway?” he asked, fixing the handkerchief by his lap.

“simple.” jaehyun stated the obvious even if he knew that yunho knew the answer.

“she’s not mom.”

eunha brought you to the restaurant that opened not long ago. the interior was eye-catching yet even with its simplicity, it was able to attract customers from outside. the smell of dishes that were yet to be served was luring and probably the reason why eunha chose the place. the waiters led you to the a table and soon came back with a baby chair. you placed the little un in it and he smiled with pearls trying to peek out.

you fixed the bib around him and booped his nose. gurgles of his hoarse laughs made everyone at your area turn to him. “ooh you sure are the spotlight stealer, aren’t you? these people are already taking a picture of you.”

“gosh he has the cutest smile.” eunha melted at the sight of him grabbing the tissue. “looky here!” she aimed her camera at him. “y/n, what’re you getting?”

you pondered for a while before your eyes landed at the name your stomach was craving for the past week. moving apartments had a toll on you— that resulted in you unable to cook your favourite meal. up until this morning were you finally found the time to do that. hence the breakfast eunha devoured within seconds.

“i’m getting fish & chips, and the classic steak.” your stomach growled at the picture beside it.

“alright, i guess i’m getting the same as yours.” eunha raised her hand.

the waiter came to your table to kindly ask for your orders. when you did so and thanked the man, a wallet fell from your right side. picking it up to give it to the owner, a large hand lightly touched yours and you looked up to see two men smiling softly.

“thank you.” the man in a suit said, taking the wallet from you.

“you’re welcome.” you answered. the man looked awfully familiar, as if he was on every commercial the screen had offered to show.

you and eunha shared a look. the telepathic words exchanged between the both of you had your eyes agreeing with what you saw, confirming his identity.

“he’s that celebrity doctor.” eunha mouthed. “dr. jung yunho, a paediatrician.”

“he seems a happy child. how old is he if i may ask?” he waved at him.

“this little guy here, just turned one few days ago.” you said, wiping off the drool with the bib.

“oh precious. belated happy birthday buddy.” he greeted.

you turned to the little one and carried him in your arms, waving his hands to thank the man. as you continued have your lunch and taking turns in feeding him and yourself, you noticed some movement where other children would approach the child on your lap. they would pinch his cheeks lightly and made faces they thought would make him laugh.

then the two men beside you stood. but before they left, yunho took a something out of his pockets and handed it to you.

it was a business card of his own practice office with an address and contact information. “if there’s anything you need help with, just give me a call and this guy-” he pointed at jaehyun and pat his back. “-will pick you and birthday boy up and head to my office.”

“hyung!” jaehyun gasped loudly, later covering his hands at the volume of his complaint. “sorry, i don’t mean it in a negative way.” he smiled awkwardly at you.

“no worries.” you gave him a sincere smile and he swore he felt like the world slowed down. everything else blurred where the only focus was you; how your hair length waved below your shoulders and your eyes sparkled with the sun’s reflection.

this young fine man though, whom you thought wasn’t paying attention or interest to, was now staring at you like he had a thousands of questions to ask to fill in his curiosity. “see you around.” yunho bid you goodbye, and the other trailed from behind.

eunha poked your shoulder with an intention of a tease. she grinned and you knew where she would go from there. “i know what you’re gonna say.” you rolled your eyes, yet a faint smile was evident in your lips.

“really?” her tone was very challenging. “i’ll test you. go ahead.”

“‘dr. jung yunho is so handsome! he’s so dreamy in real life! i should’ve asked for his photograph and boast it to my friends!’ yeah, i guess it’s somewhere along those lines.” you mimicked her voice and expression, not to mention gestures as well, especially the hands.

“yah i don’t act like that!” she defended, but there wasn’t any denial as she said that. “well, maybe. you’re not wrong though.”

“hmpf. and here you went ‘test me’.” you giggled, giving another piece of fish fillet to the one-year old. “and for the record, i’m always right whenever i’m proving you wrong.”

“fine you win.” she sipped her juice from a straw. “oh! hey, the guy he’s with is also handsome.”

you nodded in agreement at the obvious fact, although he did have tiny temperment. but that was only due to dr. yunho’s sudden suggestion. “he looked young. maybe his younger brother perhaps?” you wondered.

“hm. i haven’t seen him before. not on screen at least.” eunha chewed on her food. you raised a brow since you have no idea what she was talking about. “that doctor we conversed with, is from a family of good looking people. he has two younger sisters; jessica and krystal jung. the older one is the founder and endorser of blanc and eclare, while the younger one is an nationwide actress.”

“wow.” your eyes grew at the far/fetched level of these people. “sounds like an ideal family out of a manhwa.”

“egg-xactly.” she pointed at you with a hard boiled egg by her fork.

“that guy called him ‘hyung’ though. looked like to me they know each other. plus they have resemblance too.” you wiped your lips clean from the possible stain.

“oh dear ms. y/n.” eunha called you, her palms touching her chest as if she was surprised. “you have the hots for guys like him, which was why you-”

“ah-ah.” you glared at her, making her shush and zipping the imagination by her lips. “don’t talk about that.”

“bummer, i wasn’t even gonna.” eunha pouted but held your hand anyway. “i’ll always be here for you, y/n.”

“thank you.” you gave her a warm smile.

jaehyun waited by the entrance while his brother paid their meal. although he was bummed out that he wasn’t able to pay for his, he was somehow relieved. because once that cash was out of his pockets, he’d be broke the next time he goes to drink again.

at the corners of his eyes, he could still see you and your friend, as well as the adorable child seated on your lap. you were giving him a spoonfuls for airplane feeding.

yunho gestured jaehyun that they were leaving the restaurant. “hyung, why did you say that i’d pick her up?” he asked as he took a quick glance at you.

“c’mon i’m just playing around.” he nudged jaehyun.

“by matchmaking me to some random girl?” he scoffed. “you sure got a lot of time in your hands.”

“don’t take it too seriously jae.” yunho went ahead, leaving his brother flabbergasted.

he then shrugged it off and looked at you before stepping out. his ears perked up at the three second long conversation exchanged between you and the child.

“jaewon, look! mommy’s got an airplane~”

jaehyun stopped in his tracks by the entrance. his head quickly turning to you again. your lips mouthed the one word that shock hit his entire body. you weren’t just some random girl,

you were the mother of that child.

#serenity in us jjh #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #nct 127 #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun series #jaehyun au

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glittergutts · 3 years

Text

Finally did some serious catching up on my chores yesterday. Today I have a little bit of dishes to put in the washer and one load of laundry to do.

Yesterday I did a lot of laundry, some dishes, tidied up the bathroom, cleaned the kitchen table and counters, swept, mopped, and vacuumed.

I can finally relax and focus on the better parts of my day. I told the kids we could do more stuff together today because I won't be distracted by mess so we're going to play with their doll house. We're maybe going to do a paint pressing project if I can find any paint, before we take off the party table cover.

I slept kinda bad last night. A lot of weird dreams and reminders I didn't need. I already want to crawl back in bed...

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cherryrogers · 5 years

Text

Cleaning.

Loki x Fem!Reader

Contains: Fluff

Synopsis: After moving in with Loki, you soon learn that the man is in desperate need of learning how to be... domestic.

__________________________________________

“Oh my lord. You’re literally so frustrating.” You whined, removing the washing up gloves from your hands and slapping them down on the counter. “There are at least ten other cups in the cupboard, why do you always use the ones that I’ve just washed?”

Loki looked quite offended, pouring the freshly brewed coffee into the freshly cleaned cup that he’d just picked up from beside the sink. “The reason you washed the cup is for it to be used again, is it not?”

With a roll of your eyes, you grabbed a cup out of the cupboard and allowed Loki to pour you some coffee. Recently, you and him had made the decision to move in together. He ended up moving into your home, because you just couldn’t bare to leave the place. The majority of the time, it was a rather pleasant experience. Waking up next to his beautiful face every morning, coming home from work and seeing him curled up on the sofa reading, and generally being able to spend so much time together.

However, it was like Loki had zero regard for the messes he made, and who was left to clean them up. The man didn’t seem to give a second thought to the cups he left randomly in different rooms, or the underwear he so annoyingly just left lying on the bedroom floor. You understood that he wasn’t from a typical family, and back in Asgard, he had servants and maids doing everything for him. On the other hand, you thought he’d be able to at least put some effort into understanding how the washing machine worked. Spoiler alert - he never did.

At first, you thought you could handle it. It was just some housework, right? Wrong. It got to the point where your first thought in the morning was about all the chores you’d have to do before and after work, and you began to realise that that wasnt something one should stress about on a daily basis.

While you sipped the hot drink in your hands, a gasp escaped your lips as you watched Loki almost fall over a pair of his shoes laying messily on the kitchen floor. He didn’t fall, however he now had an empty cup of coffee...

He smirked, and you could tell he was stifling a chuckle. Was he serious?

“I... am leaving this to you, love.” He gestured to the puddle of coffee on the grey floor tiles.

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “What are you, five? I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of grabbing some kitchen roll and wiping that up yourself.”

Loki furrowed his brows. “But-”

“But? But what? You know, Loki, I feel like all I do is clean up after you. I know you don’t do it on purpose, but come on.”

“Back in Asgard-”

“I know. I know you never learned to do that sort of stuff, I understand that. But you’re not in Asgard anymore, babe. We’re on Earth, in our own house, where you should learn how to do basic housework to help me out.” You glanced at the clock behind Loki, and sighed at the realisation you were going to be late to work. “And I’m late for work. See you later.”

You heard Loki saying your name as you grabbed your bag and left the house, but there was nothing he could say in that moment that would fix anything. Some might’ve said you were being dramatic, but it just hurt you a little that he knew how busy you were and still didn’t make an effort. He couldn’t help you with work, but the least he could do was not leave you to do every single bit of cleaning.

Loki admittedly felt bad the moment you left the house. He didn’t even realise how much it bothered you that he never did any housework. While he knew you were stressed, it didn’t even occur to him that cause of your stress could be him.

So while you were out, Loki took it upon himself to earn some redemption. With his hands on his hips, he eyed the whole living room for starters, making a mental list of every job that could be done in the room. The coffee table needed decluttered, the carpet needed vacuumed, and so on. Any reluctance he had over doing the chores was replaced by the satisfaction of knowing you wouldn’t be spending the night cleaning. He still couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed how much it bothered you, and his guilt only grew heavier.

After completing your long hours at work and barely being able to keep your eyes open as you drove home, you finally made it back. Images of the dirty plates next to the sink and the unloaded washing machine immediately made you huff sadly. One night - even just one night off would make you the happiest human alive.

And as you stepped through the front door, you soon realised that this was the evening you’d been dreaming of. Everything was... spotless. There was nothing you could pick out that needed dusting slightly or random pieces of clothing laying around. The house was clean. And you weren’t the one that made it that way.

Loki emerged from the bedroom, smirking as he saw your shocked expression. “Welcome home, darling.”

Your gaze finally landed on him and you raised your eyebrows questionly. “Okay, what do you want?”

“What do I want?” His eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Loki, you’ve cleaned the entire house! It looks better than when I clean, and that’s definitely saying something. Are you saying you did all of this... willingly?” Your heart swelled as his cheeks flushed red and he nodded shyly. “Oh my... is this because of everything I said this morning? I’m sorry, Loki. I know I was harsh-”

He shook his head and approached you. “No, you were right. I am on Midgard now, and I am very happy here. I should learn how to live like you, because after all that you have done for me, the least I can do is... wash the dishes every once in a while.”

Cupping his face with your hands, you smiled warmly at him. “Well, I really appreciate that. Thank you.” You kissed him quickly. “And I’ll appreciate the next time you clean the whole house, and the next, and the next-”

“Alright, I get it.” Loki rolled his eyes, but squeezed you tighter against him. “And I’ll be more than happy to, if it makes you happy.”

After kissing him again, you sigh in content. “Honestly, I really don’t want to get the plates you’ve cleaned so amazingly dirty again just yet. Wanna order pizza?”

“It’s lovely to know you appreciate my hard work, darling.”

“Oh, shut up. God, you wash the dishes one time...”

Once you’d took way too long to pick out a movie and the pizza had arrived, you and Loki sat on the couch and remained in each other’s company for the rest of the night, you comfortably pressed against his chest with a slice of pizza in hand. Occasionally you’d look up at him from your position, analysing the way his dimples would form when he laughed and how his eyebrows furrows during the dramatic scenes. Sure, he wasn’t perfect. But he was yours. Loki was yours, and nobody else’s. He wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, but he was perfect for you. Despite any unfinished housework or stupid arguments, moving in with Loki was the best decision you ever made, because you loved him.

#this is a bit shit #the only draft ive actually completed tho oop :/#better shiz coming soon lads #we stan domestic loki tho #im just a slow writer #loki x you #loki imagine #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki oneshot #loki fanfic #mcu #loki fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader fluff

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chinguwritings · 4 years

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A 3RACHA Fan-Fiction

|| Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 4 || Ch 5 || Ch 6 ||

By: Admin Kay

Chapter 3 - Shared Feelings

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Hanahaki AU

Rating: R (swearing, sexual scenes)

Word Count: 4.2k

“Changbin,” Jisung called as he knocked on his bedroom door. Not receiving an answer, he welcomed himself in and found a still sleeping Changbin curled up on his bed. “Hyung?” he called again, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “Did you see Chan’s text last night?”

“Hng?” he mumbled into his pillow as he shifted under the sheets, “I didn’t check my phone last night.”

“Oh… well, he wanted to have a 3racha day today so he invited both of us to go to the amusement park with him. Do you think you’re feeling well enough to go?”

“Not really… I still feel like shit.”

“Damn…” Jisung sighed, worriedly glancing back at Changbin, “He wanted to celebrate after finishing our recording so he was really looking forward to it… I’ll let him know you don’t feel good.”

He waited for a confirmation from Changbin, but got nothing, so he decided to just head back to his room and start getting ready. Jisung really did feel bad that Changbin couldn’t come, but secretly, he was kind of excited that it would just be him and Chan… it was like a second date!

“Hello?”

“Hi, Chan-hyung!” Jisung greeted through the phone as he looked through his closet for a nice outfit, “So um… I’ve got some good news, and bad news.”

“Okay, let’s hear the bad first.”

“So, Changbin has been sick since yesterday afternoon… this morning I checked up on him, but he said he still doesn’t feel good so he’s not gonna come today.”

“Oh, he’s sick? He seemed alright at his recording yesterday… tell him I hope he feels better soon. So what’s the good news?”

“I’m going!” Jisung said excitedly, finally deciding on an outfit and laying it out on his bed.

“Oh,” Chan chuckled at the excitement in Jisung’s voice, “Alright, so it’ll just be the two of us then?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he answered, trying to sound a little less giddy as he changed into the clothes he’d picked out.

“Okay then, I’ll be at your place in like fifteen minutes to pick you up.”

“Sounds good! See you soon.”

“See you.”

Cupping his face in his hands, Jisung laughed hysterically to himself, unable to wipe the huge smile off his face. He couldn’t even process the excitement he was feeling about being alone with Chan again, and even more so, at an amusement park. Even though it wasn’t intended to be a date, the given circumstances were sure as hell making it seem like one.

Recollecting himself, he finished styling his hair and gave himself a few spritz of his favorite cologne before packing a condom and mints in his pants pockets, as always, and just as he finished getting ready, he heard his phone go off.

[Chan 11:43 am]: Im here

As excited as he was, he was also nervous. This was the first time they’d be spending time together with Chan knowing Jisung was gay, and although he was supportive when he came out, hanging out now would be completely different. What if Chan started being awkward around him because he knew Jisung was into guys now? He knew Chan was a nice person, but this was sexuality they were talking about; if Chan was straight and he suspected that Jisung had a crush on him, the close friendship they shared and developed up to this point could be put on the line. It was a bit scary for Jisung to be honest, but he really liked Chan, so he wanted to make a genuine effort to be with him. If it didn’t work out, well then he would just accept that it’s not meant to be… at least that’s what he told himself.

“Hey,” Jisung greeted as he opened the passenger side door of the company van.

“Hey,” Chan smiled, peering over at Jisung as he made himself comfortable and slung his seatbelt on, “You look nice!”

“Oh, uh… thanks!” Jisung stuttered, his eyes falling to the floor nervously, “Um… you too.”

“No need to flatter me,” Chan chuckled as he put the car back into drive and started making his way to the amusement park. “So… do you know when Changbin started feeling sick?”

“Hm… not exactly, but it must’ve been shortly after the recording yesterday. He said he was gonna meet me at the practice room, but he didn’t show up, and then when I got home I found him in the bathroom. It didn’t sound too good…”

“I see…” Chan nodded, a serious expression on his face as he focused intensely on the road.

“Yeah… he said it’s just food poisoning, but I’m not too sure. Sometimes, Changbin tries to act tough and hide when he’s hurting, but I don’t like to fight with him about it,” Jisung shrugged, turning to look out the window before continuing, “I’m sure he’ll go to the doctor if it’s bad enough, so I’m trying not to worry.”

“I agree, as long as he knows his limits he should be fine.”

* * *

Changbin groaned as he stretched out his arms and then reached for his phone, checking the time through half lidded eyes. Damn, it’s 2 already? he sighed, rubbing his face as he slowly sat himself up and dragged himself out of bed.

“Jisung,” he called as he walked out into the hall towards Jisung’s bedroom, but there was no answer. “Jisung?” he called again, knocking on the door before opening it and peeking inside. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…

Finding an empty room, he quickly made a round around their small apartment to double check, but as suspected, Jisung was nowhere to be found. Changbin only sighed in response knowing there was nothing he could do about it at that point. He was just in utter disbelief that Jisung cared more about going out with Chan than staying home to make sure his best friend was okay… was something going on between them?

He had suffered enough last night, getting caught up in his thoughts about Chan, so he tried his best not to think about it; the last thing he wanted was another bad flare up. Wanting to keep himself busy, he thought it’d be a good idea to clean up around the house, taking out the trash, washing the dishes, doing the laundry, vacuuming, and so on. By the time he’d finished, it was almost dinner time, so he decided to go out and treat himself at a nice restaurant since Jisung was probably gonna be out for a while more.

As he sat at his table waiting for his food to be served, he found himself scrolling through his social media to pass the time; it was pretty boring though, there wasn’t much to see. He was just about to get off of the app when he noticed a post from the 3racha account on his feed, so he scrolled down to see what it was. To no surprise, it was selfies of Chan and Jisung and they were posing together on the ferris wheel.

Even though he wasn’t surprised, Changbin definitely wasn’t happy about seeing pictures like that. All he could think to himself was, why couldn’t it be me? He wasn’t one hundred percent sure if Chan and Jisung had feelings for each other, but seeing as Jisung had been acting strangely these days and avoiding Changbin’s questions, it was hard for him to ignore the eerie feeling he’d developed in regards to their relationship.

If they really did have something though… why? What’s so different about Jisung that Changbin doesn’t have? What does Chan see in him? Is it because Jisung is more bubbly? Taller? Better looking? It bothered him knowing that Chan could possibly like Jisung and not even that long after their one night stand. Did Chan really not care about him?

He was able to go the entire day flower free, but good things don’t last forever, right? Just as the waitress brought his food, he could feel the familiar tightness building up in his lungs accompanied by his increasing heart rate and an intense urge to cough.

“Um excuse me…” he called to the waitress as she walked away, “Where’s the restroom?”

“In that corner over there, just past the wall,” she pointed as she spoke, “You’ll see the sign.”

“Thank you,” Changbin barely finished as he rushed to the corner as she’d directed, tears filling his eyes as he continued to fight back his urge to cough. It’s not that this disease was critical and would cause people to panic if they saw someone who had it; it wouldn’t cause death in its early stages and it wasn’t contagious. But Changbin found it rather embarrassing and it just made him feel extremely pathetic. How can an idiot really be hung up on a person who treats them like shit and doesn’t like them back? If people knew that some dude was struggling with unrequited love long enough to have reached the fourth stage, green petals… then doesn’t that show weakness? That he’s not strong enough to move forward? Besides being noticed by people in public, maybe that’s also why he was so afraid to tell Jisung. He didn’t want him to think he was weak.

Arriving at the bathroom just in time, he shut and locked the door before his lungs spewed dozens of green lily petals into the toilet bowl. It always hurt more after dwelling on his thoughts for a long time and it also seemed to be hurting more as his disease continued to progress; when would it end? Clutching his sides in pain, he closed his eyes as he tried his best to steady his labored breathing. It took a few minutes for him to finally regain strength enough to pull himself back together, although part of it was forced just because he wanted to get out of that place as soon as he could.

Once he got back to his table, he asked for his check and to have his food taken out instead, not really having much of an appetite anymore after his sudden outburst. By the time he got back home, it was nearly 8, but still Jisung hadn’t come home. How long were they gonna be out anyways?

* * *

“So did you have fun?” Chan asked as he and Jisung found an open table to sit down and eat their food at.

“Yes! Thank you so much for bringing me,” Jisung smiled as he bit into his burger.

Chan chuckled, finding Jisung’s reaction cute, “I’m glad. We should definitely do this more often.”

Jisung’s eyes grew wide at Chan’s comment, surprised to hear that he felt that way. It’s true that he might’ve been thinking more of it than it really was, but knowing that Chan wanted to spend more time with him regardless if it was platonic or not made Jisung’s heart flutter. The more he could bond with Chan, the more he felt like he had a chance.

“I mean… unless you don’t want to,” Chan interrupted teasingly in response to Jisung’s silence.

“N-no no, that’s not it! I do want to… I was just surprised… is all…”

Chan could only laugh again, seeing how flustered Jisung was. He wasn’t really sure, but he was starting to get an inkling that maybe Jisung had a crush on him. Even though this whole amusement park hangout was meant to be for 3racha, he was thankful to have another opportunity with just Jisung so he could test if his hypothesis was correct. “Did you have any last things you wanted to do before we leave?” Chan asked before finishing off his food.

For a moment Jisung sat there, thinking if there was anything else he wanted to do. As he glanced around the park that was now beautifully illuminated in the night, there was actually one thing that stood out to him and caught his attention. “Um… if you’re up for it, do you want to go on the ferris wheel again? Since it’s dark now, maybe we can see the city lights.”

“Sure,” Chan smiled, “I wanted to go again too, actually.”

After finishing up their food and cleaning up the table, the two of them made their way back to the ferris wheel. Thankfully, the line wasn’t too long so they were able to get into a cart fairly quickly. Slowly the cart made its ascent as other people boarded after them and as Jisung mentioned, once they were high enough, the breathtaking view of the city came into view, the street lights glowing under the starry night sky.

“Hyung, look,” Jisung gawked as he stared out the window, “It’s so beautiful.”

Chan took the opportunity to scoot closer to him, slinging his arm over the back of Jisung’s side of the bench as he peered over his shoulder, “It definitely is… but I’ve got my eyes on something else.”

Jisung’s face suddenly began to heat up, hands growing clammy as his heart began to pound. He was really hoping it was him that Chan was referring to, but it seemed too good to be true. He didn’t want to give himself false hope.

“Y-you do?” he answered, not wanting to make assumptions too quickly. As he turned to face Chan, he was startled to see that he’d scooted closer while he wasn’t paying attention and his face was now just a hair's width away from his own.

“Stop me if you don’t like it,” Chan barely whispered before pressing his lips against Jisungs. His eyes widened at Chan’s abrupt advance, his face even more flushed now than earlier as he sat there in shock. “Not gonna kiss me back?” Chan mumbled as he pulled away, his hand going up to brush over Jisung’s cheek, “I’ll stop if—”

Before he could finish, Jisung reconnected their lips, his arms wrapping around Chan’s waist to pull him closer. Chan chuckled against Jisung’s lips, feeling his fiery passion emanating from the kiss and how much he’d probably been longing for this moment to happen… so it was finally confirmed that Jisung did in fact like Chan.

The two gasped for air as Jisung finally pulled away, still slightly appalled by what had just happened. Did this mean… Chan liked him too?

“I guess… you really are a virgin, huh?” Chan teased upon noticing the slight tent in Jisung’s pants, likely from their brief make-out session, “I believe you now.”

“Yah…” Jisung whined as he turned away from Chan, embarrassed, and covered his crotch area with his hands.

“What? I didn’t say it was a bad thing. You’re young, better to save it for the right person anyways.”

“And what if… I think that person is you?” Just after Jisung said that, he regretted it; that wasn’t at all how he planned to confess to Chan. He imagined it being much smoother and more romantic.

“Is that so?” Chan grinned, “Well, if you think so, I’d definitely love to be that person for you.”

“R-really? I mean… not just the sex part, though… I actually… really like you, Chan-hyung.”

“I know, and I like you, too, Jisung.”

Jisung had the biggest smile plastered onto his face at the sound of Chan’s words, tempted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Chan really just told him that he liked him back and this was the first time they spent any time together after their last hang out when he first came out. It was a little hard for him to believe but he also didn’t think Chan would lie to him, especially about something as sensitive as romantic feelings.

His thoughts were interrupted by the cart door being opened by one of the park attendants, who then gestured for them to exit the ride. The two boys bowed slightly, thanking the person as they stepped out of the cart and started making their way back to the van. Jisung was still speechless and lost in his thoughts as they walked and Chan could tell; he didn’t want to interrupt though, so he let him be, following close behind until they finally arrived back in the parking lot. By the time they left, it was past 8 and so when they got back to Jisung’s place, it was almost 9.

“Hyung…” he started, catching Chan by surprise as he parked the van up against the curb.

“Hm?” he replied, turning his head to face Jisung, “Is something wrong?”

“Um… there’s something I wanna try…” he stated shyly, eyes falling to the floor as he awaited Chan’s response.

“Alright, what is it?”

Jisung was hesitant about answering, but he really just dug his own grave. He already brought it up so there was no running away now. “Uh well… do you think we could um… go in the back seat first?”

“Oh?” Chan questioned, cocking his head at Jisung who looked quite embarrassed, “Yeah, that’s fine with me.” Chan smirked to himself knowingly as he got out of his seat and met Jisung in the back seat and shut the door behind him. He didn’t know exactly what Jisung wanted to do but he could definitely assume the premise of it. “So, what is it you wanted to try?”

Jisung froze, staring at Chan as he tried to build up enough courage to share his request, but he kept having second thoughts. He couldn’t help but think it’d be strange and abrupt to just ask Chan to make out with him again, and on top of that he’d probably end up thinking Jisung was desperate. After that little taste Chan gave him on the ferris wheel though, he just couldn’t get it out of his mind; he wanted to feel it again but this time longer, more passionate, and maybe it could even lead to more if he was lucky… he didn’t carry a condom with him at all times for nothing.

After waiting in silence for too long, Chan snickered before finally breaking the silence, “Let me guess… it has something to do with what happened on the ferris wheel.” Scooting closer, Chan placed a hand on Jisung’s thigh, his other hand going up to caress Jisung’s face, thumb brushing over his smooth, rosy cheek.

Jisung barely nodded, eyes wide with anticipation in hopes that Chan would be the one to initiate it again. He barely made out a grin forming on Chan’s lips when he let his eyes flutter shut, waiting to feel the amazing feeling he felt on the ferris wheel for the second time.

For a moment, Chan only looked at him in amusement; it was adorable how Jisung became so reliant when he was nervous, but he was almost certain now that he knew what Jisung wanted. Leaning in, Chan finally pressed his plump lips against Jisung’s, earning himself a little gasp from the younger boy. The hand he had upon Jisung’s face, soon shifted instead to the nape of his neck sending chills down his spine while the hand on his thigh slowly inched higher and higher, giving him light squeezes in between. He could feel his insides tingling from the combination of sensations he was feeling and to add to that, Chan slipped his tongue into Jisung’s mouth without any warning, making his breath hitch in his throat.

Jisung could feel the crotch of his pants starting to tighten again, his burning desire for Chan building up again and intensifying, far exceeding what he felt on the ferris wheel. He never knew that he could be so attracted to a guy in this way, or any way really, it made him want to do everything with Chan and he couldn’t get enough of his touch.

Reaching for the hand on his thigh, Jisung did something completely unexpected; he wasn’t sure if it was his hyperactive libido acting or if he was just that comfortable with Chan now, but before he could even think about it, he had dragged Chan’s hand further up his leg until it finally landed on his bulging erection. He felt Chan smirk against his lips before slightly pulling away to speak. “I didn’t know you could be so bold,” Chan chuckled, fingers curling around Jisung’s girth as much as his pants allowed.

As much as Jisung wanted to reply, his brain was too overwhelmed to form words, only a soft moan slipping out of his mouth in response to the new sensation. Even with clothes in between, Chan’s hands just felt so damn good and he couldn’t get enough of it. “Hyung,” he whimpered, gripping Chan’s bicep to brace himself, “Y-you… can do what you want… t-to me.”

“Are you sure?” Chan asked, momentarily halting his movements.

Nodding his head, Jisung desperately urged his hips upwards, wanting Chan to continue his glorious fingerwork. “I trust you.”

Chan grinned in acknowledgement before proceeding to touch Jisung again. “Okay. I’ll go easy on you… since you’re a virgin.”

“Yah… you always make fun of me,” Jisung whined, inhaling sharply as Chan began toying with his head, “Have you done it before or something?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, pausing his hand movements again to undo Jisung’s pants, “And I only make fun of you because I think you’re cute.”

Jisung felt his face heating up again at Chan’s words, eyes glued to Chan’s hands to avoid his gaze. Did he really just call me… cute? I must be dreaming…

The air felt cool around Jisung’s throbbing cock as Chan pulled down his briefs, letting it free, precum starting to seep from the tip in anticipation. Chan skillfully spread the substance around with his thumb before wrapping his fingers around his shaft, slowly beginning to pump him.

Jisung struggled to hold in his moans, the skin on skin contact of Chan’s hand on him presenting a new degree of pleasure that he’d never felt on his own. He honestly imagined it’d feel comparable to masturbating, but there was just something about Chan’s touch that felt so much better, though, he couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was exactly. He’d barely done anything, and Jisung already felt like his end was nearing.

“Feel good, Sungie?” Chan smirked against his ear, gently nipping at it before pressing a few kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

“Fuck,” Jisung groaned, face scrunched as he tried to fight back his orgasm, wanting to hold on to the blissful feeling Chan was giving him just a little longer.

“You’re close aren’t you?” he mumbled into his neck, fingers sliding up to play with his slick, sensitive head, “Just relax.”

“God, Chan-” Jisung gritted his teeth as he clenched onto Chan’s shirt sleeve, feeling his insides starting to tingle. He was holding on to his composure by only a single thread, but Chan had other plans, showing him no mercy as he suddenly picked up speed making Jisung gasp. “Chan I’m—”

Before he could even finish his sentence, and intense pleasure erupted throughout his body, making him tense up as his head fell forward, hair covering the profanities that he mouthed as he spilled his hot seed. Chan hovered his hand over Jisung’s member to prevent the substance from shooting onto his clothes, instead letting it drip down his hand and accumulate in one place. Once Jisung finished riding out his high, Chan kicked out a tissue box from under the seat to clean up the mess, while Jisung attempted to catch his breath and collect himself before doing anything else.

“That was… amazing,” Jisung mumbled, slumped back in his seat with his eyes still closed.

“I’m glad,” Chan smiled as he wadded up the used tissues and tossed them into the front cup holder to discard later.

Wearily, Jisung turned his head, staring at Chan through his hooded lids before his gaze fell down to Chan’s crotch.

“Hyung! You’re hard,” Jisung gasped, reaching down to cup his bulging erection when he was abruptly stopped by a firm grip on his wrist.

“You should go,” Chan spoke solemnly, a glint of worry in his eyes, “Changbin is probably waiting for you.”

“But Chan!” Jisung whined, “After you did that for me… I have to return the favor…”

“Another time, Jisung… it’s 9:30 already.”

“But—”

Pressing his lips to Jisung’s, he quickly shut him up, but the kiss was brief as he still stood by his earlier words. “Go,” he said again as he pulled away, quickly opening the side door and hopping out after, “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

Jisung was sad to leave, but he knew Chan was right. Changbin was home alone, sick for literally the entire day because Jisung wanted to spend time alone with Chan. He hated to admit it, but it was an extremely selfish decision and he didn’t even want to think about how Changbin probably felt; he knew it’d make him feel even more guilty than he already did.

When Jisung stepped into the apartment, he found Changbin sitting on the couch watching TV, completely unphased by his arrival.

“Wow. Aren’t you late,” Changbin remarked, his focus never leaving the tv as he spoke.

“Y-yeah, I guess… a little?” Jisung said nervously as he took off his shoes and set them aside.

“So, how was your date?”

“W-what? What do you mean?”

“Stop playing innocent already. It’s getting annoying.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw the damn van parked outside at least twenty minutes ago, don’t lie to me! What the hell were you doing in there for twenty minutes?! or maybe even longer, I don’t know!”

“I…” Shit.

|| Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 4 || Ch 5 || Ch 6 ||

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melonkooky · 5 years

Text

bts reaction - hearing their s/o sing for the first time

requested

genre: only fluff

author’s note: this reaction is when bts hears their s/o sing for the first time and think they sound amazing, after they claim that they’re a bad singer. (also, ignore all my mistakes lol). also, i’m using an old laptop (because my mom took possession of the family computer) and so if my posts look weird (like on mobile things sometimes don’t show up as bolded or italicized), it’s not my fault. i’m annoyed by it...

please do not copy my work. but please like and reblog it. thank you!!!!

kim seokjin

seokjin had just gotten home from practice. he was practically drowning in his sweat, and his limbs were heavy and pounding to the rhythm of his racing heart. he just wanted a hot bath to relieve the stress of his muscles. as he approached the bathroom, however, he heard something. your singing, music to his ears. you were actually really good. seokjin couldn’t help to press his ear to the door to hear you better as you sang epiphany with everything you had. you didn’t know he was home, so you were singing quite loudly, enjoying the echo of the bathroom. you were self-conscious of your singing, but sometimes you couldn’t help yourself. seokjin couldn’t fight the grin on his face, the light blush in his cheeks. you sounded amazing, and he could recall all the times he had tried to get you to sing a duet with him just for fun. he went into the bedroom, sitting on the foot of the bed right next to the door and waited for you, listening to your angelic voice.

minutes later, the water stopped. soon after you stepped out of the bathroom. you were just wrapped in a towel, as you hadn’t expected anyone to be home. you screamed when you saw seokjin sitting on the bed, a smug expression on his face. “seokjin! when did you get home?”

he hummed. “not long. but i was here long enough to enjoy the little concert you had in there though.”

your cheeks flushed. “you heard all that?”

he nodded. “and it was beautiful.”

min yoongi

yoongi had been in his home studio majority of the day. despite being on his two month break, he couldn’t get himself to sit still and do nothing. besides, they were already beginning to work on the new album. while he was there, you didn’t want to bother him. he seemed busy. although you wanted to spend time with him, you were the lovely significant other who respected the space of your lover. so instead you opted to clean the entire house. it had been many months since you had actually cleaned, like deep clean. you got into old clothes and got out all the supplies. you were going to dust, to clean, to mop, to vacuum as much as you could. while doing so, you had your headphones in, banging your head along to the songs.

an hour later, yoongi was hungry, and went to find you to ask if you wanted to go out for lunch. instead, he found you dancing while you mopped the kitchen floor. your back was to him, so you didn’t notice him. you were singing so far away, and yoongi’s ears had been blessed. he never believed you when you told him your voice was terrible, and now he was listening to your heavenly voice. he smiled widely.

when you finally turned around, you saw yoongi and immediately stopped, taking off the headphones. “yoongi!” your cheeks turned a dark red in embarrassment.

“don’t feel embarrassed. you sounded amazing.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “r-really?”

yoongi nodded. “but i’m hungry. let’s get something to eat and then you can continue. you should sing more often.”

jung hoseok

hoseok pried open his eyes, allowing the bright morning sun to help him wake up. he inhaled deeply. that was the best sleep he had ever had. he looked around, enjoying the silence. he was at your shared home. there were no members, no managers. he didn’t need an alarm to wake up to because he was on a two month break. he planned on seeing his family, but he also wanted to spend time with you. speaking of which, you weren’t next to him.

he got out of bed. he wanted to find you, see what you were up to. he walked out of the bedroom, hearing the familiar sound of a pan sizzling. you were making breakfast. he was about to call out to you, but your angelic voice caused him to stop in his tracks. you were singing your own rendition of daydream, one of your favorite songs of his. and it was beautiful.

hoseok began to gush, not being able to hold back. he burst into the kitchen. he scared you, causing you to drop the spatula in your hand. “jung hoseok!”

he laughed, wrapping his arms around you. “i’m sorry but your voice, it’s beautiful. i don’t understand why you claimed you were a bad singer.”

you blushed, “i’m just self-conscious.”

“well, i think you sound amazing. you should sing more often, just for me at least.” he replied, smiling. you smiled at him, feeling a bit proud of yourself.

kim namjoon

namjoon was sitting in the bedroom, reading a new book that he had bought at a bookstore. he was well halfway into the book. he was already planning on naming this one his favorite when he talked about it with you and the members.

namjoon soon grew hungry, however, and was forced to put his bookmark into the book and set it down on the bed next to him. he went to find you, perhaps you were already making something judging by the smell that was slowly making its way into the bedroom. he walked out of the bedroom, head towards the kitchen. but that’s when he heard something unusual. you were singing his song, trivia : love. no music was playing, it was just your voice. namjoon was surprised. he had never heard you sing before. you always claimed you were a bad singer. you were wrong.

when you finished, namjoon awkwardly walked into the kitchen. pretending nothing had happened, you smiled and said, “hungry?”

he nodded. “i heard you sing.”

your cheeks reddened. you didn’t say anything.

“you should sing more often. your voice, it’s really beautiful.”

you blushed, a smile forming on your face. “thank you.”

park jimin

you were in the shower when jimin got home. he had been out with the members. they had stopped at an arcade, got some dinner, walked around the city for a while, and jimin was the first to break apart from the group because he wanted to go home to spend the rest of the night with you. he was walking into the bathroom when he heard it...heard you.

you were in the bathroom, but you didn’t close the door all the way. jimin could hear you loud and clear as you sang serendipity, your favorite song because jimin sang it. the meaning behind it was also beautiful. you were singing it really well, the acoustics sounded amazing. jimin couldn’t help but listen. he had a thought, your voice would match his perfectly. imagine: the ultimate power couple releasing a duet together. the fans loved you.

when you finished, you were surprised to find jimin. you played it off. “didn’t expect you to be home yet.”

he shrugged. “i think we should sing together.”

“jimin, you knew i don’t have a good voice.”

he laughed. “that’s a total lie. i just witnessed an angel singing in the shower.”

you blushed. “you heard me?”

“yep, and i think we should release a duet.”

you were conflicted. you were self-conscious of your voice. and while jimin was your boyfriend, he also was an amazing vocalist, an amazing vocalist who was asking you to sing with him. “fine.”

kim taehyung

you were sitting at your desk, doing some (home)work stuff because of your school/job. you had music playing from your laptop. while you were working, spring day came on and you couldn’t help but sing along...loudly. taehyung was sitting in the living room watching a movie. but he was getting tired and wanted to go to bed. you were in the bedroom, as that was where the desk was. he shut off the tv and turned off all the lights, heading towards the bedroom afterward. but through the small crack in the door, he could hear music. only, it was your voice. you were singing along, and it sounded as if you had recorded the song with them. just as you sang, “you know it all, you’re my best friend,” harmonizing with taehyung, he swore he fell in love with you again. he couldn’t help but burst inside, nearly scaring you to death. you immediately stopped singing, feeling embarrassed. “oh my god! y/n, you sounded absolutely amazing. spring day is my favorite song, but you were singing along and it sounded beautiful. i don’t even compare.”

you rolled your eyes. “that’s a lie.”

taehyung looked at you, looked very serious. “i mean it. i want you to sing a song with me.”

you looked at him. “i mean, i was just doing it for fun. i don’t think i’m that good.”

“love, i think you sounded beautifully. give it a try. we can get suga and namjoon’s help, and then you can see if you want to release it or not. we can sing together, and if you don’t like it, it’ll stay unknown. but i think you’ll like it, and want to release it.”

you sighed. “fine.”

taehyung grinned widely. “tomorrow i’ll call namjoon.”

jeon jungkook

you were cleaning the kitchen after making dinner. you and jungkook had eaten, but jungkook insisted that he had to shower, so you were left cleaning the kitchen by himself. you were salty, but you didn’t say anything. it wasn’t a big deal. besides, he had just come back from a long-ass world tour. he needed lots of rest. while you were washing some dishes, jungkook’s song euphoria randomly popped into your head. it’s what you get for constantly thinking about him. so there you were, hand wrapped in a towel as you dried the inside of a glass, singing euphoria. you didn’t realize that soon you weren’t mumbling, or singing quietly. but you were singing as if you were on a stage. no you didn’t use a spatula or a spoon for a microphone, you still continued to clean.

jungkook was running a hand through his wet hair as he walked into the kitchen, just as you hit the high note. his eyes went wide when your voice didn’t falter at all. it was strong, and beautiful, bringing goosebumps to his arms. when you finished, you needed a glass of water, and that’s when you spotted jungkook, who was in awe. with red cheeks, you stuttered, “o-oh, jungkook.”

you drank your water, embarrassed. but jungkook was grinning. “your voice...it’s...it’s…”

“horrible.”

“amazing. i don’t understand why you call yourself a bad singer.”

you shrugged. jungkook continued, “i’m blown away. i think that sounded beautiful!”

you blushed. “thank you.”

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thewritewolf · 4 years

Text

Eating Habits Chapter 8: Sick Day

Marinette is bed ridden and who better to take care of her than Adrien?

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Marinette was miserable.

There were orders to fill and events to organize and clubs to lead. Above it all was the looming deadline at the end of the semester, a date that was uncomfortably close as November was about to roll around. She couldn’t afford wasted days, not now. Not when everything was coming to a head all at once.

And yet, here she was. Bed ridden with a cold, of all things. Two days into it and feeling no better than she had after collapsing into her bed yesterday. Tikki swore up and down that the power of creation infused in the Ladybug miraculous would make her heal faster, but apparently her body was already pushed to its limits with everything she had been doing.

She whimpered into the stuffy, warm gloom of her room (or maybe that was just her that was warm) as her headache flared up again thanks to a sneezing fit. Being sick sucked.

Her door opened, pulling back the comforting layer of darkness and she groaned. After adjusting to the sudden light, she blinked up at the patiently smiling face of her boyfriend. A smile that proved to be infectious, especially with the delicious smell coming up from the steaming bowl he was carrying.

“Hey, bedbug. Feeling any better?” He pulled up a seat as she sat up. Once she had resituated herself, he passed her the bowl. Her nose was still stuffed up, so she couldn’t quite place the scent, but she knew she loved it already.

“No, not really,” she said, wincing internally at how distorted and weak her own voice sounded. She stirred at the food in front of her, unsure if she was hungry or not.

“Not feeling potato soup? I could make something else, but you really should eat. It’ll help you get better faster.”

“No, no it’s fine. My stomach is just being weird is all.”

“Eat what you can, even if it’s just a spoonful. There’s more if you want it, but if not I can store it away for when your stomach is more cooperative.” Adrien watched as she took a few tentative bites. It was as good as she was expecting it to be, making it easier to force down some of the food. “You don’t usually get sick like this. What’s different this time?”

“The difference is that she is pushing herself so thin even the power of creation is having trouble keeping her hale and fit. After all that stress from the midterm tests it was inevitable.”

Marinette tilted her head up at Tikki curled up on the headboard and pouted at the kwami. Huffing in irritation, Marinette looked away and grumbled, “Tattletale…”

“We’ll talk about that later, my lady,” Adrien said with a stern look at her. “Try to relax for now. I’ll crash here until you feel better.”

“You really don’t have to-”

“I kinda do, since you are in no shape to take care of yourself right now. And even if you were, I’d still want to help keep an eye on you. We’re a team, after all.”

A small, warm smile found its way onto her face. She was so glad to have him in her life, especially as her boyfriend. Sometimes she had no idea where she would be without him.

“Okay, lovebug. I’m gonna let you get your rest now.” Adrien placed a kiss on the pads of his pointer finger and middle finger and then quickly pressed them to her cheek. She giggled at his proxy kisses, which he devised after she forbade him from kissing her while she was sick.

As the door closed, Marinette was still miserable. But Adrien made her feel a little less miserable.

-----------------

Adrien gathered the dirty dishes out of the living room and took them into the kitchen, all the while humming a song. Which song it was, he wasn’t entirely sure. More than likely, it was one of the ones that he had practiced on the piano so frequently as a teenager that had just got imprinted in his brain forever. Even after he’d stopped playing, though that was more because of a lack of piano than a lack of desire.

The cheerful melody didn’t do much to fight back the building worry in the back of his head. How much was she really neglecting? Did she clean up only when she was expecting him over? Was this part of the reason she got sick? With all the glasses and bowls and plates he’d scavenged out of her various ‘workplaces’ (i.e. anywhere she had spent laboring over a design), he was surprised she hadn’t been reduced to eating off of paper towels.

He left them to soak while he prowled the tiny apartment for any other surprises.

It had come as a shock to everyone else when it was discovered that Adrien enjoyed doing household chores. Granted, he didn’t start doing them himself until after he moved in with the Dupain-Chengs. Something about the repetition and the satisfaction of seeing things improve by his own hands… it was definitely something that he had needed after everything that had happened. Maybe it was the sense of normalcy that he got from doing things for himself after a lifetime of everyone else taking that decision away from him.

Regardless, his quick scouring brought up a messy heap of dirty clothes and a similarly disorganized pile of clean clothes. He threw a load of what he hoped was the dirty clothes into the washer and got started on folding the presumably clean pile. Well, as clean as clothes that had been left on the floor for kwamis only knows how long could be.

A quick vacuuming and Adrien returned to the dishes. After making appreciable headway, there was a knock on the door. He narrowed his eyes and hoped that it wasn’t her landlord. That man was sleazy and taxed even Adrien’s patience. He dried off his hands and went to the door, opening it a crack.

Alya grinned at him from the other side. “Hey, blondie! I got some stuff for our girl. Care to let me in?”

Adrien’s scowl melted into a grin. “Sure thing! What’ve you got for us?”

“Groceries, medicine, some tea from Sabine,” she said as she dropped two paper bags onto the counter. “That sort of thing.” Her eyes roved the room. “I see someone’s made themselves useful. Good to know you’ll make a great trophy husband for our little fashion powerhouse.” Alya winked and Adrien felt his cheeks heat up at the thought of marrying Marinette.

“She deserves the extra help, you know?” He started unpacking the bags and putting them away. “She’s in her room if you want to say hi.” Alya swallowed heavily as she looked toward the bedroom door, dread in her eyes. “I know she’d appreciate it.”

“Low blow, Agreste,” Alya said. She groaned. “If I get sick then it’s on you.”

Adrien chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Why aren’t you worried, anyway?” Plagg asked as Alya went to chat with Marinette. “Just in case your animes have given you the wrong ideas, let me remind you: The power of love doesn’t actually stop you from getting sick.”

“Yeah, I know,” Adrien said while rolling his eyes. “But I’m pretty stress free, I have a work out regime and I eat healthily. Marinette, despite my best efforts, has none of those things. I’m not too worried about me.”

A few minutes passed with just the clinking of the dishes and his hummed song filling the air. Before long, Alya came back out and leaned against the sink where Adrien was washing dishes. After grilling him for a little while how bad Marinette’s sickness was, and what he was doing to help, the conversation shifted to him.

“So how’s it been going, blondie? Figure out what you want to do yet?”

Adrien shrugged. “For now, I’m happy working at the bakery and watching out for Marinette.” He smiled. “Both of those things keep me pretty busy.”

“I can imagine,” Alya said with a smirk. “Plenty of doors are open for you, whatever you end up deciding. What about up here?” She tapped the side of his head. “Anything to report?”

“...Some days are better than others. Some days are worse. I can’t really complain.”

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know.”

Adrien looked at Alya and saw the worry in her eyes. “I know.”

“Have you considered getting professional help? Nino swears by it.”

“Speaking of, it sounds like he put you up to this.”

“Nah, but we both came up with it, so it must be a good idea, huh?”

“I guess…”

They stood in silence for a few moments before Alya moved away from the sink. He was surprised to feel her pat him on the shoulder.

“You’re a good guy, Adrien. I’m glad Marinette has you. Just remember that you have her too, okay?” At his nod, she removed her hand. “Good luck, big cat.”

The door closed behind her and Adrien stared into the soapy waters that his hands were submerged in. A soft smile was reflected back up at him.

-----------

“I’m worried about her, Adrien,” Tikki said as she floated above him.

He looked around the room one last time, making sure that he had packed everything that he had brought over. After he grabs his toothbrush from the bathroom, he should be ready to head back to his apartment.

“I am too. Which is why I’m going to double down and make sure that she is getting the proper care she deserves.” He zipped up his duffle bag and set it on his bed of the last four days, the living room couch. “I don’t want to do this all again when her finals roll around.”

“It’s not just the finals I’m worried about.” Tikki landed on his palm and sagged. “This is just the first semester! There will be more to come and it’s only going to get more serious from here!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right there, making sure she’s taking care of herself. Even if I have to do it myself.”

“That’s the thing - you can’t be there for her all the time. It takes a while for you to come over here or to her university, not to mention the extra hours you’re taking at the bakery. And no,” she added when Adrien was about to interject, “that doesn’t mean I want you to quit your job just to be her caretaker.”

But Adrien thought maybe there was a way for him to be there for her all the time. Or at least, pretty close to it. The gears began turning in his mind for a new plan.

--------------

Adrien never thought he’d love to see his apartment building, but here he was, sighing contently as he set his duffle bag on his living room table. There would be plenty of time to unpack it later.

As much as he hated seeing her sick, he was glad he had been able to help her. Hopefully she wouldn’t be mad about him cleaning up, but knowing her, she wouldn’t mind. Unless he happened to have moved her art things without realizing it, in which case she might very well tear him to pieces. He chuckled to himself and went down to the mailroom. Maybe he’d gotten something worthwhile in the past four days.

Walking back upstairs with the mail in hand, he began shuffling through them. Offers from banks (who wanted his money), universities (who wanted the boost his fame would bring), and a few modeling firms (who wanted his talent all to themselves). Adrien rolled his eyes. Just a bunch of strangers giving him attention for all the wrong reasons. The same song and dance he’d dealt with for almost his entire life. Not really worth getting bent out of shape over.

His back stiffened when he saw the first letter from his father. With a shudder he sorted it to the bottom of the pile. He wasn’t about to let his day get ruined by him. Not again. Slightly shaken, he kept shuffling.

His heart skipped a beat when the second letter was revealed. Belatedly, he realized he’d made it to his apartment door and gratefully shifted his entire attention toward opening it and walking inside. Gritting his teeth, he sent that one to the bottom as well.

Which revealed the third and final letter.

Adrien’s breath was coming in ragged now and his heart was pounding. With fumbling hands, he fished out all three and forcefully shoved them in a quickly filling basket with all the others.

“Hey, kid anything good-” Plagg cut himself off and froze halfway from rising from his den in the kitchen cabinets. His eyes were concerned as he asked, “What the hell happened to you?” Adrien opened his mouth but couldn’t find the right words. He glanced at the letter basket and Plagg narrowed his eyes. “I see.”

“I think… I could use a drink. Maybe take it easy for the rest of the day. Watch some television?”

Plagg watched him pour a glass of white wine and take a seat on the couch. While Adrien was searching through the channels to find something to take his mind off things, Plagg curled up against his neck and purred.

The sensation was enough to calm the frantic pace of his heart.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Adrienette #Tikki #Plagg #Alya Cesaire #ml fanfiction #my writing #Eating Habits #The Lucky One series

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hollandroos · 5 years

Text

How Could I Not | Four

Playlist | Wattpad | Prologue | Series masterlist

Tom Holland x Reader | Fwb with an unexpected pregnancy

Summary: You and Tom are only supposed to be friends... friends who sometimes take things a step further and friends who can’t seem to spend longer then a few days apart. But that can all change with a positive pregnancy test. Suddenly you have to work together more then ever to prepare for the new life you created. But is it really that easy?

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: Angst. It gets a little heated near the end but nothing too smutty.

Disclaimer: There’s some trouble between the reader and her parents in this & I know that everybody's parents are different, but for the sake of the storyline !!!! Please remember to reblog and share if you liked this chapter and this series!! honestly, I love writing this but I write it a lot faster when it gets good feedback :)

“Are you sure about this?”

Tom was close compared to how distant his voice seemed. In fact, he was right there next to you, pouring exactly four drinks. But while two were filled with wine – red and chilly, cold beneath his bare fingertips, two of them contained soda. It was orange soda to be exact, your favourite and you wondered if it was a coincidence that Tom had picked it up on the way over.

Orange soda, the colour of stale Cheetos or carrot tops. The colour of the screwed up shirt in the bottom of your wardrobe and the plastic forks you made sure not to give to your parents tonight.

“I’m not. I’m nowhere near sure about this.” You admit, tasting the fear on the tip of your tongue as you speak. However, fear was always there lately, a sickly permanent taste. You’d think you’d get used to it after a while but you were yet to.

God, of fucking course you weren't sure about this. There were a hundred and one things you weren’t sure about right now and this was one of them. It made your heart race and palms sweat like there was no tomorrow and not even your loving cat hadn’t dared to come near you all night.

You thought about the fact that you’d rather be working right now because surely that’d be less anti-climactic then what was about to happen and for once you wanted anticlimactic. Lately, all your life had been was climatic and if it were a story, it would’ve been one giant cliffhanger.

“We have to tell them and besides, you haven’t seen my mum in ages. She loves you.” You put on a brave front but beneath that, you were beyond terrified. It didn’t take much to see that. It took Tom, that was all it took. It took just Tom to see that.

Tom tilts his head, a gentle blush taking place on pasty cheeks. But it was easily hidden by the dim, kitchen lighting.

“She won’t after tonight.” He admits.

You agree silently.

The smell of freshly roasted potatoes frolics around the kitchen, fighting with the scent of gravy and a stirfry that Tom had attempted to make before you took over. The boy could bake like his life depended on it, from breakfast goods that warmed your heart and reminded you of home to stuffed, Oreo brownies but he surely couldn’t cook savoury dishes.

There were four plates laying in front of you, each with a fork and knife set neatly beside them. Maybe you’d been a tad pedantic about it, making sure that the cutlery was perfectly straight and the drink had gone in the fridge had gone in hours earlier than needed so that it would chill in time. There had been a timer for the potatoes and you’d kept a close eye on the vegetables, you’d also turned the fire on earlier. It crackled quietly in the corner of the room, red shadows illuminating the walls and the cat lays tiredly mere meters away.

While you’d been doing that, Tom had taken up the task of cleaning your living room. He had vacuumed and cleaned up lifeless rugs, stacked books and even watered plants. Then he complained about the number of dirty mugs you had laying around. Up until now, at least. Because now, he watches you tap one foot against the floor of your kitchen which barely fit the two of you, letting out short huffs of breath as your eyes watch the clock on the wall just across from either of you.

Maybe you disliked inviting your family over because there was no escape. Your apartment was small with one bedroom, a single bathroom and the kitchen and living room were combined. Meaning when they came over, you were practically boxed in. There was nowhere you could possibly run off to to clear your head because yes– they could drive you insane sometimes.

So inviting them over to share your news had prompted many questions from Tom, who was secretly sweating beneath his flannel tee. It had prompted enough questions for you to put your hand up and beg him not to ask any more questions that not even you knew the answer too. He was still questioning everything, but little did he know you were doing it too – just silently.

He was still asking endlessly, even with the food chilling on the oven top and mere moments before they were supposed to arrive. You could only imagine the large grin on your mother's face because finally– she was about to see her daughter after weeks of being apart and your dad surely couldn’t wait to hear about work. You wondered if she’d bring along her famous apple pie or a spare bottle of wine you wouldn’t dare touch.

You were about to let them down, plummet their expectations and make them second guess what they thought they knew about you.

Yeah, I’ve been sleeping with my best friend and look! He got me knocked up but it’s okay.

Your thoughts go unseen to Tom, who tangles his fingers together as he chews on the inside of his lip as he debates whether or not it was the right time to ask what he’d been meaning to ask for a few days now. It was an idea that’d been put forward by Harrison, who was more than eager to move in with Jacob– it wasn’t that Tom was a bad roommate, he just wasn’t home often.

Fearful eyes drift around the small apartment. There was merely room for one. And by one, he meant one. He didn’t mean a pregnant women. Tom was sure some of the windows were broken and sometimes the front door didn’t lock and as his eyes drift over your distracted self, he knows he has to ask. Because he’d never forgive himself if someone broke in and hurt you – he’d never ever forgive himself if someone broke in and hurt you and his kid.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about.” Tom works up the courage to ask. His words are slightly shaky and filled with uncertainty. Of course, he was certain about wanting you to move in, he was, however, uncertain about your answer. “It’s been on my mind for a bit and Harrison mentioned it to me a few days ago, but with things getting pretty serious I thought that I’d ask tonight.”

Your eyes remain on the series of plates and the coolness of the bench beneath clammy palms. “What is it?”

“I just think that… well, your apartment is so small and you’re all on your own.” His throat goes dry. Your eyes seem to widen to the size of saucers. “Harrison mentioned it to me a few days ago because I’m never actually home, I’m always with you and he wants to move in with Jacob anyway–”

“You’re rambling.” You chuckle, feeling a strand of hair fall over your face. It’s quickly brushed back by fidgeting fingers. “What is it?”

Tom sucks in a deep breath, nearly choking on his own excitement that had quickly overtaken nerves.

“Do you want to move in with me? I know it’s a big thing to ask and all but you can take Harrison's old room and I can help more, especially as things progress. I can actually be there for you and that’s– that’s going to be important. I want to be there for you and the baby.”

It’s hardly silent over the gentle purring of the cat over by the fire and the crackle and pop of flames against wood– but for a moment that seems all too distant and Tom can only hear the pounding of his own heart in his chest. He waits for something. Maybe for his heart to tear through his ribcage or for you to laugh in his face. He wasn’t sure which sounded better.

But it’s barely a decision you have to think about.

“You loser, of course I’ll move in with you!” You beam, throwing a set of arms around his shoulders. “As long as it’s okay with Harrison then I’m down, I don’t want to have him kicked out of his own home.”

“Of course It’s okay with Harrison, he was actually the one that suggested it,” Tom says while holding you against his chest. You and Tom practically lived together anyway. His clothing was scattered across your bedroom floor and you were sure your hairbrush was laying on his bathroom sink.

Your best friend wears the same flannel shirt he wore last Christmas to your family get together straight after returning from his own. The thing is a navy blue and reminded you of the apple pie your aunt had made. Not only that, but it drew your mind back to sneaky kisses between two best friends under the mistletoe and tiptoeing up to your old bedroom to open thoughtful presents. He got you a necklace, you got him a watch. The watch sits around his wrist today, pressed against the clothed skin of your back. And the necklace? The silver chain with the ladybug charm clung to your neck.

His apartment had a door that locked and a bedroom that could fit a bed bigger than a single. It had working wifi and an oven that didn’t threaten to burn the house down whenever you so much as flicked it on. Your lips curl up at the thought. Then they plummet again.

“Before I move in, we have to focus on surviving this damn dinner.” You let out a sigh, heart beating against Toms' chest and he feels every erratic beat.

Tom ignores his own persisting fears and responds with a small; “We just have to be calm and civil and explain that we have a plan, we’re not kids– we can’t be kids.”

There’s a hefty knock at the door and your arms immediately fall limp, landing at your own side and his body is no longer as comforting as it once was. It was harder when he was tense, the warm flannel of his shirt now rough against your bare hands. Your kitchen is still a mess. Dishes still line the sink and half-filled mugs of tea sit on the coffee table despite Toms urge to down a pot of hot coffee.

“Do you want to get the door? I’ll finish setting everything up.” You offer. Despite the range of food in front of you, you weren’t hungry. Not in the slightest.

Tom sends you a reassuring smile. “We’ve got this.”

“We do.”

Your small ‘we do’ isn’t filled with belief. Instead it’s filled with concern and nearly comes out as more of a question then a statement but if Tom notices it, he surely doesn’t say anything.

Tom had his reasons for inviting you to live with him and you had your reasons for saying yes. But maybe you should’ve gone over them before agreeing so excitedly. Because while you were envisioning finally having enough room in your bedroom, having him there 24/7 to help out when the morning sickness got too bad and having easy access to his wardrobe, Tom was already seeing cots and baby clothes.

While dinner with them was usually filled with laughter, discussions over who’d missed what and comments about how delicious the food was, tonight it was dead silent. Because your parents just knew that something was wrong– of course they knew. They were your parents after all.

They knew you upside down and inside out, having each of the little creases that dotted your forehead and the freckles that padded down your shoulders memorised.

They didn’t have to notice the way you played with your food instead of consuming it or how you sent Tom nervous stares from across the table because they could just feel it the second they walked in. It was suffocating. You were suffocating. It was fair to say that the truth had a hold of you, gripping your throat with such a force.

Toms' knuckles were nearly painfully white beneath the fork and he struggled to get past the first few bites. It was as if the clock was ticking away painfully slow, every second feeling like a minute as he forced himself to chew each bite until the food was nothing more then mush. It tasted it too. He had to swallow with a grimace.

And if your parents were being honest, they’d admit that the news they were expecting was that you’d finally begun dating. That possibly Tom had asked you out on some extravagant date with roses and chocolates because their daughter deserved the best of the best and had later popped the question over a glass of champagne. Oh boy were they wrong. They were so fucking wrong.

“Are you enjoying the food?” You ask with a shaky voice. It was a bullshit question, of course. “Tom helped me out. He’s getting better when it comes to cooking.” You chuckle, sending him a playful glance.

Your mom plasters a genuine smile on her face. “It’s delicious, you really outdid yourself, you too Tom” She beams. Toms' lips curl up. He was a sucker for praise.

You want to thank her but the words are stuck in the back of your throat beneath layers of untold truths and guilt is enveloping you like a cold, unwanted hug. Lying to your parents was always hard, especially when all they held was sincerity and love. It was like kicking a puppy.

You supposed you hadn’t lied to them yet, you’d simply kept a secret. A groundbreaking, life-changing secret that was eating you alive– or taking up space in your belly, growing bigger by the day. One hand ducks under the table, ghosting over the barely-there bump before you straighten out your shirt.

“Anyways,” Your dad coughs, breaking through the sound of cutlery against glass plates. “What have we missed? Catch us up.”

He looked warm, tucked up in a sweater that he’d had in his drawers for years. One that reminded you of going to the park as a nine-year-old and eating ice cream on the beach at twelve. But it wasn’t the kind of warmth that you welcomed from the sun or the warmth that currently flooded your apartment with the fireplace as its source. But the kind of warmth that sent you to bed with a smile, and one that got you out of bed every morning.

You send Tom a glance, one that was practically a plea for help but his eyes remain on his potatoes, fork prodding the things yet they don’t move from the decorative plate.

There was no easy way to say it, really, and maybe you would’ve preferred to tell them through text or a letter in the mail but adulthood meant communicating properly. Even if you do feel like you’re about to choke on your words and throw up. Your heart drops in your chest and you swear you hear it go plonk.

“Me and Tom are moving in together.” You swallow. Looking up, fingers knot themselves in your tangled shirt. “We’re moving in together because I’m pregnant.”

There’s the cringe-worthy sound of a fork hitting the table. It clinks and then there’s the feeling of jaws dropping, mouths falling limp but no words come out. Not Toms, however, he remains still, prodding at his potatoes with a blunt fork and you actually want him to speak up. You want him to defend your decisions – path.

“That second part is a joke, right?” You mom asks. Her voice is as soft and loving as ever, but it held uncertainties. “Honey, I’m glad you’re finally going to be living with someone else, you know we don’t like you living by yourself but–”

“It’s not a joke.” You stop her, finally looking up from your untouched plate. They look on at you in disbelief, your fathers feature held masses of disappointment. “Please, I wouldn’t joke about this.”

But no one says anything, there’s not much to be said and even the sound of your heavy gulp can be heard. You start to wish you’d told Toms parents first. The cat even pokes his head up from his spot by the fireplace, suddenly concerned about whatever was happening over at the dining table.

Tom can feel the tension – anyone would be able to feel it. And he hates himself for ignoring your burning gaze, a plea for help as your parents wait patiently – expecting this to be a joke before you announced the news of your coupling because it’d be about time, right?

He looks up, his eyes finding your fearful figure and Tom can’t ignore the guilt that wallows in the pit of his stomach. The girl he’d long promised his heart to even if he hadn’t realised he had fully committed himself just yet.

So finally he budges, placing his fork down.

“Mr and Mrs Y/L/N.” The brown-eyed boy begins. Every word feels slightly more forced than the last. “This wasn’t meant to happen but it did and I’m sorry, but I–”

“You shouldn’t be sorry.” You dad spits, breaking his own silence as he directs his gaze to the brunette. Tom wants to shrink in his seat but he remains upright, strong.

“Dad–” You try, not liking the bitterness in his tone. Suddenly the end of your skirt is oddly interesting as you toy with the hem, cutting off the blood flow to your fingers. Any distraction was better than none.

He cuts you off. “You shouldn't be the one apologising, we should be. We should be sorry because we trusted you with our daughter. We’ve been nothing but nice to you, welcoming you into our home, to family events. We believed the very best in you – y/n believes the very best in you. She talks about you like you’re her lifeline and you go and ruin her life.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen.” He tries to defend. Toms' voice is shaky – words broken.

“You can say that all you want but it doesn’t change the fact that it happened.” Your dad lets out a sigh, a puff of air escaping his chest and he stands up, dinner long discarded. “I thought you were smarter than this.”

The last comment is directed at you, every word filled with more disappointment than the last.

It’s the type of disappointment that strikes you like a knife. Not a butter knife but a butchers knife – sharp. It keeps plunging deeper and deeper until you feel your walls begin to dwindle and suddenly the end of your skirt isn’t enough of a distraction. And Tom feels his chest ache because he feels it too.

You feel the desire to take Toms hand and twiddle with his fingers, much like you had at the office a week ago. You wanted to roll his fingers between your own, counting every line that indented itself in his palm and caress each of his knuckles, trailing nimble fingers up the veins in his hands that paved the way up his arm.

“I’m not a child, Tom and I have a plan and we’re going to make things work. Starting with moving in together and Tom’s going to help as much as he can through the pregnancy. But I need you guys, I need you both to support this.”

He sucks in a breath, one that’s followed closely by Tom slipping out of his seat.

“I can’t.”

Tom winces as he hears those words but no one notices, not even you who picks up every little thing about him.

“You can’t what?” You ask, suffocating more and more with every pained sentence. Each one was closer to leaving you more heartbroken and let down then the last.

“Support this.” He says exactly what you were expecting but you still hear the dull sound of your own heart breaking in two. “I won’t.”

So you stop biting your tongue.

“What else am I supposed to do?” It’s a question without a solid, sure answer. One that was asked a little harsher then you intended but your theory is proved right when not a single person around the table answers it. The only move made is your father's heavy footsteps trodding towards the entryway. “Please sit down,” You beg, feeling tears brimming your eyes. Everything is collapsing. You need reassurance. “We can talk about it.”

Your mom's hand rests itself over top of his, asking him to calm down without using her words but fails. He’s closer to leaving now, hand gripping the side of his jacket. The same coat from your graduation, the one you stole once or twice when you knew you’d be staying out late because it was warm and had enough pockets.

“I expected better.” Is all he says. But it’s said through gripped teeth and clenched knuckles.

And through the entire thing, your mom stayed silent. Even when chairs are scrapped awkwardly across wooden floorboards and he begins to walk to the door and she trails behind with a sunken face and saddened eyes. Even when you reach out in desperation – shaky hand trying to take your dads only to be shrugged off.

It’s then that Tom realises he can’t exactly work out who feels worse right about now. Whether it’s you, who was watching your parents walk away with disappointment flooding their veins or your parents who were still in shock. Or whether it was him, who looked at you and saw a hefty fraction of his universe. But now all he could wonder was whether or not he’d ruined your life.

He shoves the thought away, for he’d argue with himself later.

“You can’t just walk out right now, that’s unfair to y/n – your daughter.” Tom steps forward and you take his hand, keeping him back. Instantly, Tom wraps his fingers around your own. “You need to be there for her now than ever and you can’t just walk out–”

“Tom, don’t.” You mutter, feeling the familiar churning in your chest. You shove it away. “Just let them go.”

“They need to be there for you–”

You shake your head. “Just let them go, please. I don’t need tonight going any worse then it already has.”

The sound of the front door closing is heartbreaking but Tom doesn’t see you bite back a sob as you turn your back, heading straight back to the dining table to clean the mess. The meals were still fairly untouched, especially yours. Toms potatoes had holes where the forks had prodded and there was food scattered all over your mom's placemat where she’d dropped her fork.

For a moment you reckon Tom had left too, trailing behind them before leaving to his own apartment. And thinking Tom had left, you place your spare hand over your stomach. Not for a second had you feared that the growing human inside of you was a mistake, you couldn't.

A boy, you feel like he’s a boy. But after heavily evaluating the small photo tugged behind your phone case you decided you couldn’t be too sure.

Suddenly a hand comes down on your shoulder, another reaching over to take the small pile of plates from your hand and they’re placed back down on the dining table with a small clatter. You jump slightly before realising that it was Tom who hadn’t even debated leaving, not after what’d happened.

“Are you alright?” His voice is gentle and filled with concern.

“I’m fine.” You lie right through your teeth. But you couldn’t lie to him, it was pathetic even trying.

He tilts his head, flannel tee now unbuttoned at the top. “C’mon, tell me what’s on your mind.”

You want to ask what’s on his mind, but you know that if you do he’ll just throw the question back at you.

“You didn’t ruin my life, yeah? You couldn’t. I said this was a two-way thing and I meant it, I don’t blame you.” Your eyes hold sincerity. “You know that I don’t blame you, don’t you?”

“I know you don’t,” Tom says truthfully. “And your parents will come around, even if tonight didn’t go exactly as plan.”

“They’re so mad at me.”

“At us, they’re mad at us, yeah?” Tom brushes a strand of hair behind your ear before bringing it to your face where he gently wipes away a stray tear. The warmth stains his thumb. “Did you see the way your dad was looking at me? I think he was imagining sticking that steak knife through my chest.” He snorts but feels you tense and he immediately softens, partially regretting his words. “Look at me, love” He prompts. “It’s okay, they’re probably not even mad. They may just be shocked, this will take a bit to process.”

You sniffle as a fresh set of tears sting the corners of your eyes. “I just… I wanted it to at least go a little different, you know? A hug from my mum would’ve been nice and my dad… oh my god.”

“C’mere,” Tom pulls you into his chest and you welcome the warmth. If there was anything you needed right now, it was him. Scratch that, you needed validation from your parents that this was all going to be okay. Tom was the next best thing. “They won’t stay mad for too long, they love you way too much.”

“We’re still going to move in together,” You stop to hiccup. “and we’re going to make sure this pregnancy is successful and our baby is safe. That’s the most important thing.” You move a hand up to wipe away your tears but find that Tom has already done it and let them flutter shut, breathing in the smell of his flannel shirt.

Toms' heart warms upon hearing the reassurances. “We’re still moving in together, of course. I think that’s long overdue.”

Despite telling him that you wanted to think about it earlier, you were already hooked on the idea. You were hooked on the idea of having your things scattered around the house and mugs in the kitchen cabinets, tangled with his own. There was the thought of sneaking into his room late at night when you couldn’t sleep and him sleeping in between your sheets when he couldn’t do the same. You pondered if he’d make you delicious meals when you were further on in your pregnancy and the cravings had grown insane and if he’d rub your feet after a day of wandering around.

And then you’re thinking about how disappointed your parents are and will continue to be. Because it seems like all you do lately is let them down and this is just another thing added onto a list of many and you want to cry again– even though you’d only stopped mere moments ago.

“Can you distract me for a little bit?” You practically beg, the desire for something– just anything that’d take your mind off of the whole situation plaguing your mind. It was a simple question with a simple answer. Tom wasn’t going to say no to his sobbing best friend.

“What kind of distraction? I think you still have the game of monopoly that I left here a few weeks ago or we could go watch a movie–”

You want to chuckle at the mini list he was creating.

“Tom, not that kind of distraction.” You barely budge from your spot, but your hands had however moved from where your heart beat excessively in your chest. “Something else, yeah? It’s… It’s been a while.”

“Oh.” He mutters under his breath, tilting his head to the side lightly. But he’s still worried. He’s still worried that this is all too much and that you’re barely coping but you’re keeping it inside like you usually do– because it isn’t like you just to spill all of your feelings, not even to him. Not even to Harrison. “We don’t have to if you’re not up to it.” He offers. But you decline with a shake of your head.

“Kiss me, already.” You plead, lips waiting, bare without his own.

And Tom kisses you in the darkness of your apartment with the rain pelting against the windows. But unlike your rushed kisses that are a heavy mix of teeth and tongue, it’s soft and gentle. He’s trying to calm you down. He’s telling you that he’s got you but not through words, instead he does it through the way he moves. You’re infatuated.

Curls, thick and previously brushed back now brush against your face and he holds you with caution, so much so that you swore there may have been a caution sign on your back. But maybe it was in the bags beneath your eyes and the tears that still stained your cheeks. Or the way you held yourself as if you were about to collapse into a puddle of your own feelings.

“I’ve got you, don’t worry about them.” He reminds you. “They’ll come around.”

He reminds you then why you’re best friends. Why the two of you each other have gotten through everything that you have with dignity and pride and why you’ve never been able to let the other go. There’s an invisible string keeping you together, one that was slightly frayed in some places but it never broke. You didn’t think that it could, but the future was unknown.

You taste the soda on his lips, orange flavoured and the scent heightens as he licks your bottom lip with haste.

Somehow, you got to your room. Between breathless kisses and shared touches, you get there and Tom doesn’t waste a second. He knows he can’t because you need a distraction, not for the harsh words to come oozing back into your mind. Instead you’re reminded of how light the bed is beneath you and you’d forgotten lately just how hard yours was compared to his. The sheets are pure cotton, little pieces of it run beneath your fingertips and you mould into – however, you feel more at home beneath his sheets instead of your own.

A part of you does feel like you’re meant to be there, in his instead of your own, laying flat on your back with your best friend above you showing you all the care and affection you long craved.

As Tom sinks down the bed, running his fingers down to where your skirt ends he lets his hand rest for a moment over your stomach. He’s so gentle that you barely feel his hand there, you barely feel nimble fingers flutter over the skin of your abdomen but he does it and you’re aware of it and a small part of you wants to push him away but you don’t.

You shudder and Tom continues his journey, and then you’re okay with his fiery hands on you once more. You’d both been so distracted recently that you’d forgotten what it was like just to be together, focusing on one another the way you were now.

He peels the skirt up first and fingers loop around the hem of your underwear and then you feel as though you’re suffocating in the clothes you’re still wearing. You want them off- and you want him all over you. Your skin is hot beneath his hands, lighting like a fire as he goes and it’s been so long- too long for your liking.

“Tom, c’mon. I know you’re just taking your time.” You whine, feeling the desire in the pit of your stomach. It’s there and it’s eating away at you slowly, begging him to do something.

Tom smiles coyly against your skin, fully aware that he was taunting you slowly. “Relax, love, ‘m taking my time.” He ignores the straining in his pants as best he can, focusing all his attention on you. “We have all night, I’m gonna show you every ounce of love you deserve.”

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faithhudson · 4 years

Text

Cleaning Up || Sawyer & Fae 07.27

Tagging: Sawyer Hudson (@sawyerhudson) & Fae Hudson

Date: July 27

Location: Sawyer’s suite

Classes: Home Ec

Summary: A domestic scene and attempts not to punch people

Sawyer didn’t really want to do scenes with other people, and Fae didn’t really want to earn points, but they were siblings and siblings helped each other out. He had invited her round for the last day scene week was applicable, making sure to leave a few dishes out on the side, and his bed unmade. It would just be a simple domestic scene and the minute she was done, he was going to put on Dad’s old records and they were just going to chill. He heard her knock at the door, opening it and smiling at his sister on her knees, trying to fight back a laugh. “Hey,” He said, offering his hand to pull her up. “Thanks for coming.”

Fae struggled with the whole idea of scenes, and she knew that Sawyer understood better than most. She didn't plan on getting enough points to graduate, and the whole thing seemed pointless. But her brother had a girlfriend and a future, and points would be good for them both. So if she needed to play submissive for a little while she could do that. Knocking and kneeling, she shuffled awkwardly and found that his stifled laugh matched her own. "Thanks for having me, Sir," she intoned, accepting his hand and stepping inside where she'd feel a little less ridiculous.

“Thanks for using your titles un-prompted.” Sawyer praised, deciding that calling Fae a “good girl” was a little cringeworthy. “So, today is simple. I have a couple of chores I need you to do,” He explained, handing over the little handwritten list he jotted down last-minute, “You can’t move on from one task until I’ve approved the work you done. If I don’t approve, you’ll have to start over. The sooner you finish, the sooner you get your reward. Is that fair?” He’d normally just leave Fae to her own devices, but it wouldn’t be much of a scene if he did that, and he figured she could handle if he was a little bit of a hard-ass to her.

God damn it was difficult not to roll her eyes as Sawyer went over the rules of the day. She didn’t do this, and hearing it coming from her own brother’s lips just added another strange layer to it. But they had a deal, and a bit of time doing what she was told wouldn’t kill her. “Fair, Sir,” she agreed, reading through the list. “Want me to get started now?”

"Before you get started, remind me of your limits and your safe-word." He knew for a fact none of these limits would be pushed, but he wanted her to recite them, to put it out there that they wouldn't be considered, and to also give her a reminder that it was still a scene, and she could opt out at any point, no matter what, no questions asked.

Fae nodded, head up and eyes on Sawyer as she focused on him. This part was important, because everyone would ask for it when she did scenes. "Yes, Sir. My safeword is 'holiday,' and my limits are electricity and cages." There were others, if she were honest, but they were sexual in nature and they weren't about to touch any of that.

Sawyer gave a curt nod, "Holiday." He repeated, so she knew he heard her. "Got it. And don't worry, it's a simple domestic scene, so there'll be no electricity or cages." He didn't even want to think about the connotations behind those limits were, but he wanted Fae to know that he'd never, ever push her like that.

"I was sort of hoping those weren't going to be included, Sir," a smile pulled at her lips, but Fae tried to remain serious. "Thank you." She never thought for a moment Sawyer would hurt her, but if they were treating this like a scene she needed to be honest.

"You're welcome." Sawyer matched her smile for a moment, to show her that he'd never think about harming her, before remembering his role, trying to channel his inner Chris Abrams-like Dominant, becoming hard-faced once more. He knew it was hard for her, and he wanted to just drop the Dom facade and tell her she didn't have to do anything of it, just chill, put on some TV. Another part of Sawyer told him that it was better it was him than someone who'd take genuine offence to Fae's reluctance, and that the worst punishment she'd probably get off him was a Carole Hudson-Hummel level of tutting, rather than something that'd actually cause damage. "Yes." He said, proud of himself for managing to drop the please from the sentence. "Go ahead and get started. Just shout me when you're done."

As cringe inducing as it all was, Fae was glad to have wrangled a scene with someone she could trust. And who she could sub to, because being a Dom was still way out of her comfort zone. And despite how uncomfortable she knew they both were, Sawyer was taking I seriously and she would as well. “Understood Sir.” Without further prompting she headed for the sink, having decided dishes were the simplest place to begin.

It was quite nice to have Fae around in a more domestic setting, in a way it was like catching up for all the wasted years back home in Champaign. Where she hadn’t been there when he helped their mom with setting the table, or whining about vacuuming, or just...anything normal. They were robbed off a lot of their normality, and as strange and unusual this scene was, it was still more normal than either had been through. He crept to the kitchen, just watching her wash the dishes for a moment, before heading to the corner of his living room, putting on one of their dad’s old records, because he was on the forefront of their minds constantly these days, and he kind of liked the idea of him being with them in this moment.

Dishes were simple. Ritualistic. Wash, rinse, dry. Wash, rinse, dry." It was good because it was mechanical. It was bad because it left time to think. Fae tried to do as little of that as possible, especially when it came to family. But she was in Sawyer's kitchen, helping with his dishes, and it was impossible not to think at least a little. When she heard the scratchy sound of a needle dropped on a record her heart stopped a little, and the song that began to play was one she actually knew. "Well, the stage was set, the sun was sinkin' low down," she sang softly, trying to push memories of their Dad away while she did. "As they came to town to face another showdown..." she dried the last of the dishes, setting them on the counter, but leaning there waiting for the chorus before she called out to Sawyer to check her work.

Sawyer had admittedly zoned out, watching the record spin around, the song washing over him. Memories of their dad on his good days blasting it in the living room, forcing their mom to dance with him, making Sawyer, Fae and Finn laugh and dance along, played in his head. It took him a moment to register Fae calling his name, and he headed back to the kitchen, wiping his eyes, letting the hard-ass version of himelf from years ago take over. He picked up the dishes, examing them closely, just to drag it out, before nodding. "They're satisfactory." He nodded, "Put them away and you can move onto your next task."

Fae did her best not to punch him as he looked at each individual dish with seemingly no purpose but to annoy her. She knew it was part of the scene, part of the way that she had to give in and let him do what he wanted to do, but it was more difficult than she'd expected. "Yes, Sir," she agreed, ignoring the way that his voice sounded just a little bit choked up. "I'll go do the bed next." He didn't need to know, she was sure, but she assumed it was something a good submissive would say.

He simply nodded, because he didn't know if he could say any words to her without choking up. Fae and Sawyer didn't do a lot of talking, not really, and he honestly couldn't remember the last time he cried in front of her. Or in front of anyone either. Probably when he scraped his knee when he was 7. And then later pushed his school nemesis Tommy DeLuca over for making fun of Sawyer crying. And then he bawled like a baby anyway. The memory admittedly (and slightly disturbingly) made Sawyer feel slightly better, and he took another couple of deep breaths, before heading out, to maybe chill a bit before Fae was ready for him.

Fae knew, or at least suspected, that Sawyer's silence was much like her own. They didn't need to get wrapped up in memories, at least not while they were in the middle of a scene. She let him walk off and began to put things away, which required a few glances through the cupboards but didn't take too long overall. In the meantime she sang along with records she was sure she'd forgotten, finally heading for the bedroom and suddenly understanding why Carole would get frustrated with them for leaving beds unmade - it was a mess. She took everything off of the bed, down to the bare mattress, before starting it from scratch - fitted sheet, sheet, pillowcases, blanket, all of it. By the time she was done she was sweating profusely even in the suite and had to sit down for a few minutes to catch her breath. Fae checked the corners, tucking one in a bit more, and nodded at her work. "Think I'm ready," she called. "Sir."

Sawyer headed back into the bedroom, and, if he were being honest with himself, he wasn't that confident in Fae's bed-making abilities. He and Finn definitely suffered for their half-assed ways growing up and whilst Sawyer at least threw the cover over the bed and fluffed the pillows, Finn never even botheed. And Fae was a Hudson through-and-through, with an extra pinch of not giving a fuck whatsoever, so his expectations weren't exactly high. He was, however, stunned. The bed was the neatest it had been since he arrived here. "You make the beds exactly like Mom." He blurted out, cringing at his words. "That's a...a compliment by the way. You've done an excellent job." He stammered, glancing back at the bed and already feeling guilty at the fact he and Fauna would be messing it up later. "You can move on." And he hurried out of the room, before Fae threw a punch at him for comparing her to Carole.

Fae cringed at the description. She wasn't sure how she'd remembered enough to pull it off, but assumed that there must have been some lingering pre-alcohol memories of helping out as a kid. But the thought that she had actually recreated something their mother used to do disturbed her on many levels and she barely noticed Sawyer leaving. "Thanks," she finally muttered, long after he'd departed. The last few tasks were fairly quick and easy, some general cleaning and dusting, and each of them were checked off simply enough. Returning to the living room she knelt in front of Sawyer and restrained herself from rolling her eyes. "Last couple are done if you'd like to check them, Sir."

Sawyer kept himself busy by texting his friends and teammates, as well as planning his plans with Fauna for the next day. It was going to be hard, to wait these 24 hours to ask the girl to be his girlfriend, and he was especially glad that his sister was here to help him distract him from such a thrilling and dauntless task. From the corner of his eye, he noticed her kneel before him, and he just looked at her for a moment, a stupid smirk on his face, though he tried his best to hold back his laughter at the site. "Very well," He spluttered out, going to check on the dusting whilst letting out his laughter. When he decided everything was up to par, he returned back to where Fae was kneeling. "Stand." He ordered, "You've done an excellent job, Fae. Well done." He praised, "How are you feeling, about today? About the scene, about submitting? I know this was extremely basic, and I am your brother, but in terms of the titles, the kneeling and following orders...how was it?"

For Sawyer's sake it was lucky that he managed to restrain himself, because if he'd actually laughed at her Fae was sure she would have ruined the scene by decking the Dominant with one hand and costing them both valuable points. And that would have been more frustrating, since it would mean she'd gone through with her submission for nothing. "Thank you, Sir," she nodded, standing and doing her best to crack her neck a little - the bed had been hard work. "I'm...I mean, it's fine?" she offered hesitantly. "Like I'm at least more comfortable doing that than I am with the thought of being in charge of someone. And yes, it was weird doing this with you, but I think we put something simple and effective together so I don't mind that. You were walking a fine line with that crack about Carole, though, you know that right?"

"Okay, good. Fine is good." Sawyer declared with a nod, "You'll probably be a better Dominant than you think, you know," He assured her, "but you have time to explore that side only if you really want to. You don't have to ever do anything you're completely uncomfortable with. I'm glad to have done this with you as well." He couldn't help but grin cheekily at that, "It was an accident." He told her honestly, "but you handled it well. Now, what would you like to do as your reward for doing so well? Nothing's off the table. We can watch TV, order in, go to town for some food. It's up to you."

"Not yet," Fae shook her head. "I can't trust that I won't get sick, or worse, while someone's depending on me. Maybe someday it'd be something to check out, but I just don't feel okay with the idea right now." She leaned in for a quick hug, wanting Sawyer to know that she really was okay with all that they'd done and that she was glad to have helped him with some points. "Lucky for you," she smiled. "I'm thinking...a big stuffed crust pizza, some pop, and some of those cinnamon things that the pizza place sells. And just relax and eat while we listen to some records. Sound good to you?"

Sawyer gave her a sad smile, although he knew where she was coming from, worrying about someone depending on her when she wasn't well enough to cope. He'd been in a similar boat once upon a time. "Well, no matter what, you're always going to have people to look after you no matter what. But like I said, there's no rush." He was pleasantly surprised when she gave him the hug, letting his long arms wrap around her for the moment, and the feeling of having his little sister in his arms, safe, almost made him tear up again. "You, Fae Hudson, are a genius, you know that? And a mind reader, because I've been thinking about those cinnamon things all day. I'm glad I let you made that choice." He told her, shooting her a wink.

"No, you're right about that. I'm going to be here for a while, after all." Seven years, maybe. At which point she'd either have to have the points and a claim or she'd just get dragged off. "Just know that your job isn't looking after me. You've got a girlfriend to romance, points to get, and a claim to find. Don't need to waste time in there looking out for me." Fae grinned, pumping her fist. "Must be some kind of sibling telepathy," she grinned. "Alright - let's do this. Pizza, records, cinnamon things."

Sawyer shook his head. "It's not my job, no, but you're one of my triplets, Fae. You and Finn are as equal priority to me as my future claim is, okay? I can romance the girl, earn the points, find a claim and look out for you all at the same thing." He assured, "I'm like a superhero in that way." He rolled his eyes at her fist-bump, but his smile didn't falter. "Let's do this," He echoed, giving her a high five. "Pizza, records, cinnamon things."

#gleedsmscene10 #c: sawyer #thread: cleaning up

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