#later in your relationship he can finally pick up when you're making a move on him and he's like ' oh :3' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soaps-mohawk · 3 months

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Summary: You have a long weekend that ends rather unexpectedly. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, some brief violence at the end.

A/N: I'm in a bit of a crisis so you're getting a bonus chapter this week. It's a beefy one and I wrote like 90% of it yesterday, just had the brain sludge by the time I was close to finishing and decided to rest before I finished and edited. Things are starting to get a big suggestive here, so as a reminder, this fic will have NSFW content in later chapters so please do not interact with it if you are under 18. I'd hate to have to block you.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“How are you settling in?”

“Fine.” You shrug.

“Any instinct to nest at all?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“That’s fine.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down. “It’s only been just over a week. Have you started kneeling for Captain Price yet?”

You shake your head again. “No.”

Dr. Keller tilts her head. “Why not?”

You shrug again. “He hasn’t brought it up.”

“Is that something you’d like to start doing?”

Her question catches you off guard again. You’re not used to being asked what you want, afterall you’re an omega. That’s not important. You’re here to serve. To do as you’re told. You remember watching your mother kneel for your father while he watched TV, her dazed, glazed over eyes staring at nothing as he almost seemed to hypnotize her into the shell of a perfect omega. It was your first taste of truly how much power alphas could hold over omegas. One hand on the back of your neck and it’s over.

“I...I don’t know.” You say, picking at your sleeve.

“You’re allowed to want things too.” Dr. Keller leans forward just slightly, giving you a smile. “I highly doubt Captain Price will make much of a fuss if you ask for something you need. He cares about you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She tilts her head at you, watching you pick at your sleeve. “Is there anything you want or maybe need that you haven’t asked for?”

Softer blankets. A fluffier pillow. Different body wash and shampoo. New clothes. A picture or a poster or something to make your room seem less clinical. Your instincts to finally start kicking in. Price to want you as much as he’s supposed to. Ghost to like you. To go back in time and let Soap kiss you.

To go back in time and never present as an omega.

“No.” You finally answer, shaking your head. “I’m fine.”

Dr. Keller stares at you for a long moment. You avoid her gaze, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I know you’re going to get tired of me saying this, but it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space for you. Everything that we discuss, everything that you say in here stays between you and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something I firmly believe in, even when it comes to alpha/omega relationships. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You say quietly, still avoiding her gaze.

She continues to stare at you for a moment before she leans back on the couch again, shuffling some papers around. “The two betas, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. How are you getting along with them?” She continues with her questions.

“Fine.” You lean back in your chair, hoping it might swallow you whole. “They’re easiest to get along with.”

Dr. Keller nods. “Good. I’m a strong advocate for organic pack bonding. Helps avoid any dynamic struggles or false instincts down the line. How are you sleeping?”

“Fine I guess.” You shrug. “I nap a lot.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Omegas need a lot of sleep and I can imagine adjusting to a new schedule has been rough.” Dr. Keller moves the papers to the couch next to her, looking up at you. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

You hesitate, pulling at the seam of your sleeve. It’s beginning to unravel a bit from your nervous picking. You’ll have to fix it. Dr. Keller is right, though. You could just ask for a new one. Price had told you they had a budget for your needs, plus they do get paid well. Anything you needed, they would gladly get for you.

You just have to ask.

It’s the asking that you’re not sure you can do. It feels strange to ask anything of your new pack. They’re supposed to be the ones needing things from you. If Soap had wanted to kiss you, he could have. Instead he left it up to you. He let you decide. You wonder if Price’s hesitation to move forward has been because he’s waiting on you.

They’re all waiting on you, except maybe Ghost. They’re waiting on you to make the first moves, on you to set the pieces on the board. What is the first move? How do you set the pieces? Did you even need to? Would they fall into place organically if you just left them alone? Or would the tension continue to build up, would you continue to affect them until it became too much and the pressure causes everything to blow?

“I’m affecting them.” You say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Dr. Keller tilts her head as she stares at you. “What do you mean?”

“They’re soldiers. They’re good soldiers with years and years of training, that’s why they're here. But...but I’m changing that. I asked Price if I could go with them and watch them run a training course cause I read in a book that I should get to know them and the things they like and so I was just curious what they do during the day when I’m not with them. He let me watch and he told me their top speeds running the training course but...none of them met those times with me there.”

You take a deep breath, the words pouring out of you easily now. You feel as if you’re not even thinking of them, not even measuring them or using caution as you normally would in any conversation. They’re slipping out from somewhere deep inside and now that you’ve opened that dam, you can’t stop it.

“Price made them run through it five times and they still couldn’t match their top speeds. He said it was a good thing that they figured that out, that they need to know how I’m affecting them and how to adjust to me. And every time they ran through it, I couldn’t stop thinking about...”

You take another breath, the air catching in your lungs. Your fingers are shaking, your body sinking deeper and deeper into the chair, almost as if you’re trying to get it to swallow you whole. As if the chair might wrap its arms around you and pull you into its softness and keep you there until you can’t breathe and it suffocates you.

“What if it was me? What if they were having to rescue me? I know that’s a risk, a low one, but it’s still a risk. The CIA and Kate warned me that I could become a target if the wrong person found out about me. That’s why I can’t know anything about what they do because that puts me at more of a risk, and I could be a threat to them and the entire world if something got out that wasn’t supposed to.”

You’re breathing heavily as the words finally come to a stop. Dr. Keller’s eyes are shining with sympathy as she stares at you. This is the most you’ve ever opened up to her, the most words you feel you’ve ever spoken to her in the two times now that you’ve met.

It feels good. It feels really good to voice your thoughts and your fears to someone on the outside, someone you can trust won’t tell anyone. You couldn’t voice these fears to your pack. They’re used to this kind of thing. They live with the knowledge they could die at any point, that any mission might be their last. How many lives have they seen lost, how many close calls have they had? You’ve seen scars already on arms, hands, faces. How many others are hidden where you can’t see?

How many scars do they have inside, too?

“I want you to know that your fears are very valid.” Dr. Keller says, her voice soft. “Being involved in the military comes with a lot of risks, and then you get to places like this and those risks only get greater and greater. I can’t promise you that something like that won’t ever happen, because we have no way of knowing. The risk is not zero for a reason.”

Dr. Keller stands from the couch, moving to the chair next to you. The calming beta scent washes over you, and you know you have to be stinking up the room. She turns the chair slightly to face you, leaning forward onto her knees. You can see the imprints on the sides of her nose from where she’d been wearing glasses earlier.

“That risk is also only low for a reason. Your identity has been well hidden, just like those of your pack’s. You’re on a well protected and secure military base. This place is a black square on Google Maps. I know, I tried looking it up when I found out where I was being assigned.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm gently. “And I highly doubt your pack would ever let anything happen to you. Packs are highly protective over their omegas. Even bad alphas can’t fight that instinct when their pack is threatened. Your pack would quite literally go to war for you.”

She is right, you know she is. Yet that fear continues to wiggle at the back of your mind. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, but they’re going to start leaving soon. What if something happens while they’re not here? Who will help you then? The other soldiers? The betas that stare and the alphas that catcall you?

“I guess you’re right.” You say, continuing to pick at your sleeve. At this rate, by the time your heat starts, you’ll have unraveled the whole sweatshirt.

The buzz of your phone on your nightstand pulls you from your half asleep state. Your book is on the floor, having dropped from your hands and slid off your bed as you drifted off. Your lamp is still on, casting a warm glow around your room. You prefer the softer light compared to the fluorescent overhead, as most omegas do. There’s something too clinical and sterile about fluorescents.

You grab your phone, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you try to blink the sleepiness away. It’s not terribly late, but you’ve been feeling the exhaustion all day since your conversation with Dr. Keller.

“Be ready by 0500 tomorrow. Wear something meant for the outdoors.”

It’s a text from Price, your brow furrowing as you read it over. Five in the morning on a Saturday? That’s the earliest you’ve had to get up since your arrival on base. And wear something meant for the outdoors? You can only imagine what he has planned for the day you had been planning on spending sleeping.

You make a quiet noise of indignation as you text back in confirmation, setting an alarm so you can be ready by 5 am. Not up by 5 am, ready by 5 am. You have half a mind to call him, or to text back asking why he feels you need to be up before the sun. You know that’s the normal time they begin their mornings during the week, usually when you hear them up and moving around, getting ready to go work out. That’s usually when you roll over and go back to sleep for another hour and a half before your own alarm gets you up for breakfast.

You pout a little as you set your phone back on your nightstand, reaching down to grab your book and set it next to your phone. You lay back down on your bed, turning off your lamp and bathing the room in darkness. Well, it’s not totally dark. The light from the lamp outside shines in your window, casting cold shadows across the walls and floor. You’ve never been a fan of total darkness. You’d grown used to having some light in the room at The Institute. One of your roommates had insisted on having a nightlight, and there were many nights you were grateful for it as you laid awake at the mercy of your racing mind.

A nightlight.

You add it to the mental list of things you want, but you’ll never feel brave enough to ask for.

Your alarm rings too early in the morning, your hand lifting to silence it quickly. 4:30 am doesn’t feel like a real time as you rise in darkness, hand fumbling for the switch to your lamp. You glare into the dimly lit room, trying to blink the sleepiness from your eyes. How desperately you want to curl back up under the blankets and sleep until someone knocks on the door to check on you because you’ve slept so long into the day.

You don’t doubt Price will knock in about 30 minutes to get you up. He’ll be disappointed if you ignore him, you think. He wouldn’t punish you if you went against his wishes, would he?

You don’t know that.

You haven’t even thought to push that boundary, nor have you discussed it. You don’t want to. You’re a good omega.

You’re a good omega.

You repeat it over and over as you get yourself ready, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You silently thank Kate as you pull on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots, assuming that’s what Price means by “something meant for the outdoors.” Had she bought the items in anticipation of something like this happening? You are on a military base. You should have expected you’d be pulled into something like this eventually.

You’re debating on a jacket by the time the knock comes, right at 5 am. You wonder how long Price has been standing in the hallway, or if he’s perfected arriving right on the dot after years of expected punctuality. You decide on the jacket after checking the weather, slipping it on as you open the door. He hadn’t mentioned needing anything, not that you own any sort of supplies for the outdoors anyway.

He doesn’t say anything as you open the door, instead motioning with his head to follow. You quietly close your door, expecting the others to be waiting for you, but their doors are all closed and they’re nowhere to be seen. You feel slightly nervous as you follow Price out into the cold morning air, glad you decided on the jacket as your breath steams from your lips.

Price is dressed in his usual boots and cargo pants with a cargo jacket and a beanie instead of a bucket hat. There’s two packs leaning against the side of the building, Price grabbing one and approaching you.

“What are we doing?” You ask quietly as he helps you put on the backpack, buckling it across your chest.

“Going for a hike.” He says, putting on the other backpack.

“Why?” You ask as he turns on a flashlight, handing it to you before turning on another one for himself.

“I’ll explain when we get there.” He says simply, motioning for you to follow him.

You hesitate for half a moment. A hike in the dark? The base is surrounded by forest, but you sometimes forget due to the sprawling nature of the buildings, and your usual ventures outside the barracks being to either the mess or the medical center, all of which were central on the base.

Why does he feel the need to hike in the dark? Surely it’s more dangerous, especially for someone not quite so physically inclined like you. If he wanted to go on a hike, why hadn’t he just said that to begin with? Maybe he would have, had you asked why last night instead of just immediately agreeing.

Going into the woods alone in the dark with an alpha you barely know.

Anxiety twists in your stomach for a moment before you force your feet forward, walking fast to catch up to him. He leads you down one of the roads on base, your boots crunching as the ground changes from asphalt to gravel. Your anxiety doesn’t lessen any as the trees loom high above you in the darkness, the forest like a black void before you.

Your brain thinks up all the land predators that might exist in England. Do they have bears? You’ve seen Brave, but that’s in Scotland. What about big cats like cougars or mountain lions? Are there racoons in England?

You’re on a military base, you think. Surely they have means to keep out large predators that might be dangerous.

Your pack won’t let anything happen to you.

Dr. Keller’s words float through your mind as you follow Price through the underbrush and into the trees. You’re not following any path, at least that you can see, though your experiences in the outdoors have been very limited since you left home. Your dad liked to camp and hike, and often you and your siblings were subjected to his weekend and holiday trips into the wilderness.

You missed them in the early days at the Institute. You missed a lot of things back then.

“What’s eating you back there?” Price asks as you weave through trees and underbrush.

“There’s nothing...dangerous out here...is there, sir?” You ask, narrowly avoiding taking a branch to the face. “Bears or mountain lions?”

Price chuckles. “The worst thing you might find is a stray badger or a snake that got through the fence somehow.”

“Oh.” You say, shining the flashlight around you. “That’s good.”

Price stops, turning to face you. “You’re fretting.”

“Well, we’re in the woods in the dark at an ungodly hour and you won’t tell me why, sir.” You pout.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, staring down at you with a hard look in his eyes.

You stare up at him, your grip tightening on the flashlight in your hand. “Should I trust you?”

He straightens up a bit, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s something you have to decide.” He turns back around, starting to walk again. “All I can do is my best to try and prove myself to you. In the end, you’re the one that decides if I’m trustworthy or not.”

You’ve never thought of it that way. He could do everything in his power to get you to trust him, but in the end it is your decision. He hasn’t proven you wrong yet, but then again...it’s only been a week. You’ve known him for a week and you’re following him through the woods alone in the dark.

Your brothers would have a fit if they saw you right now.

“Do you trust me?” You find yourself asking as you continue to trek through the woods, narrowly avoiding hurting yourself on various occasions.

“You haven’t given me reason not to.” He answers, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. “I’d prefer it stayed that way.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir. I hardly think I’m much of a threat on any term. Well, at least I don’t think I am. Ghost seems to disagree.”

Price lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Simon...Simon is a unique case. He’s good at his job, but that makes it hard for him to succeed in other areas. I’m sure Johnny has told you how much Simon couldn’t stand him at first. Now look at them.” He chuckles warmly, almost fondly. “He only sees you as a threat in your nature.”

You frown, glancing up at the sky. It’s beginning to turn grey with dusk, the trees seeming to come alive around you in the dim light. “What do you mean by that, sir?”

“You’re an omega. To bond with an omega, there is a degree of vulnerability required by the alpha. Being around omegas requires an openness that can be frightening if you’re not used to it.” He explains. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Simon isn’t the most open man.”

You snort quietly. “Hadn’t noticed, sir.”

Price chuckles at your answer. “You’re threatening to him, because you’re a challenge. Give him time. This entire situation is an adjustment for all of us, just as I’m sure it is for you too.”

You don’t know how to respond to that statement. It is an adjustment. Joining any pack was, but a pack like this...a pack that has you tramping through the woods at 6 am for a reason you don’t even know yet is a major adjustment.

Price stops after the sun has come up, taking a moment next to an outcropping of rocks. He clips your flashlight to your bag before unzipping it, passing you a bottle of water. You take it gladly, your mouth feeling dry after walking for so long.

“How much further?” You ask as he drinks his own water.

“Quite a ways.” He answers.

“Can I know why we’re doing this yet?” You ask as he zips your water back into your backpack.

“Not yet.” He says, continuing onward.

You let out an exasperated sigh, but follow him anyway. You don’t have much of a choice.

Your legs are beginning to get tired, and you’re starting to feel a bit hungry. You’re not sure if you should say anything, or if he’d even stop. You assume he’s packed food, or at least you hope so. You’re going to get grumpy if you’re traversing all over the forest for hours with nothing to eat.

Price slows his pace a bit as you approach what you think is a clearing. You can see a break in the trees ahead, the sun coming through brighter here. You’re sore and tired, your phone telling you you’ve been walking for just over two hours.

How big is this base?

You break through the treeline, finding a small clearing with what looks like a fire watch tower in the middle of it. It’s not what you were expecting, the many scenarios of why you had been dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and forced to hike through the woods you’ve been thinking up the last two hours, did not end quite like this. You stare up at the tower, your head tilting back to take it in.

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Price asks, standing beside you.

“Maybe.” You answer, eyeing the staircase winding around it to get to the top.

“Come on.” He says, nudging you forward gently. “Up the stairs.”

The last thing you want to do after walking for two hours is climb a never ending staircase, but you don’t think you have much of a choice. Perhaps you can finally sit once you get to the top, and maybe you’ll even get to eat.

Price follows behind you as you take the steps, climbing slowly. Your legs are screaming, your feet aching in your boots. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bleeding a little, or if you wind up with blisters. You’re breathing heavily by the time you get to the top, sweat beading on your brow. Price doesn’t even seem winded behind you, and you’re sure he could have jogged up the steps if he wanted to.

The top of the tower is mostly empty except for a small table and two chairs. There’s no windows, the tower open between the railing and the roof. Price sets his bag on the table, unzipping it. You sink into one of the chairs, letting your bag drop to the floor.

“Can I know why we’re here now?” You ask him.

“Drink some water and take a breath first.” He says, pulling a couple packets out of his bag. MRE’s.

You dig your bottle out of your bag, taking note of the other contents inside. A few snack bars, a couple MRE’s of your own, another unopened bottle of water, and a book. There’s things in the other pockets but you don’t bother looking, guzzling down more water.

You stand from your chair, your legs almost buckling in protest as Price gets the MRE’s cooking. You lean against the railing, looking down over the forest that stretches out as far as you can see below.

“Can I know now?” You ask, knowing there has to be a good reason for him to bring you out here.

“A training exercise.” He says finally.

“A training exercise?” You frown, turning to look at him over your shoulder. It wasn’t a training exercise for you, was it?

“Sometimes when we get a specific target on a mission, the only thing we have to go off of is a general location and a scent.” He explains. “We have to be able to track that scent effectively, sometimes for miles. We run training exercises out here to test their ability to track scents to hunt down a target.”

You stare at the sprawling woods, beginning to understand. “So, they’re hunting a scent that will lead them here?”

Price chuckles lowly, his hands coming to rest on the railing on either side of you. Your stomach flutters as he leans in close, his scent strong in your nose as his breath fans your ear. “Technically, they’re hunting you.”

Your knuckles go white as they grip the railing, your blood pulsing in your veins. You’re well aware that some alphas like to hunt their omegas. There’s some primal urge deep within your brains to chase and be chased. You’re well aware of how it usually ends, the thought making your stomach clench.

“You gave me the idea.” Price says, the warmth of his body radiating through your jacket. “When you asked to watch them train, I saw how you affected them, I thought...maybe you can be useful for their training afterall.”

“Do they...do they know it’s me?” You ask as he steps back from you. You fight the urge to whine at the loss of proximity.

“They do now.” He says with a smirk. “They’ve already started, so if they can follow your scent successfully, then they’ll be here in about an hour.” He says, looking at his watch.

You frown a little. “But...we walked for two hours.”

He smiles a little, pointing to a break in the trees below you hadn’t noticed until now. “That trailhead is a 20 minute hike back to base.”

Your frown deepens. “But-”

“We weren’t walking in a straight line.” He explains. “We doubled back and recrossed the trail several times to try and confuse them, just as someone running from them would do.” He passes you one of the MRE’s. “That’s what I want you to do, if it ever comes to it. You don’t fight unless you have no other choice. You always try to run first.”

“Yes, sir.” You say, sitting down again. You don’t think you’d do much damage fighting anyway, but you don’t tell him that.

You open the package, peeking at the contents. Some sort of potato hash, you think, but you don’t really care. You’re so hungry you’ll gladly eat the mystery re-hydrated food. Price sinks into the other chair with a quiet sigh, digging into the food. It’s quiet out in the woods, the only other sound besides the two of you the sounds of birds.

You’ve always loved the woods, the quiet serenity of such isolation. You could imagine Price living in a log cabin miles from civilization, with animals and his own garden, happily living in quiet peace away from the stresses of life and war. You blame the fluttering in your stomach on the lingering thoughts of a chase, of a hunt. The thought of running, trying to evade soldiers who train to hunt others by their scents has goosebumps forming on your skin.

They’re not from the cold either.

The sun has disappeared behind clouds, the grey weather of England quickly becoming normal to you. You haven’t seen the sun much since you landed in London two weeks ago, and you’re sure you’re not going to see much of it for quite a long while.

“What’s got you all twitchy over there?” Price asks, breaking the silence.

You turn to look at him, your mouth open a bit in surprise. “How can you tell?”

“I’ve been trained to notice small details, sweetheart.” He says, grinning at you. “Your fingers always get fidgety first. Like you’re looking for something to do with them. Usually they disappear beneath your sleeves, or you start picking at your clothes. Your scent changes too. Subtly, but still noticeable.”

Oh god. You wince a little bit. He can still smell you, even outdoors in an open area.

“Your eyes start to move, looking all over the place, like you’re searching for something, or trying not to stare at one place too long.” He continues, making you want to sink deeper and deeper into the chair until you disappear. Of course he can read you like a book. They all probably can. “Your breathing always picks up, fast enough it’s noticeable if you’re paying attention. It’s easy to set you off too, sweet little thing.”

Warmth floods your face at his words and his stare, the back of your neck prickling. You meet his gaze across the table, the look in his eyes making you feel like you want to crawl under the table and hide. You hate that he can read you so easily. You won’t be able to hide anything from him.

He probably knows you already have.

You continue to hold his gaze, not backing down despite the intense tickling at the back of your neck. Touch alphas like a challenge, you repeat it over and over in your head.

Don’t back down.

A quiet growl rumbles through his chest, a shiver shooting down your spine so violently it nearly steals your breath. You fight the urge to bear your throat to him in submission, your head tilting back just slightly as your eyes squeeze closed. You’re panting, warmth pooling in your stomach as he chuckles lowly. He’s won, he knows it. You were never going to win. Nature was set against you. Your nature is to submit to him.

“Innocent little thing, aren’t ya?” He says, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets.

You know he smokes, you know they all do. You’ve smelled it on them many times, and it was to be expected. Your father hadn’t started until after he joined the Marines. Your mother hated it. “Dirty habit.” She always whispered as she smelled his uniform and the laundry he brought home from deployment.

He could have had worse ones, you always thought.

You can’t help but watch his lips curl around the cigar, the scent of tobacco permeating the air. His eyes are still on you, your own lips tingling a bit. You think back to how close you had been with Soap, inches from having your first real kiss. You regret it a bit now, not letting him kiss you. He wouldn’t have known he was your first, except perhaps by your awkwardness.

You wonder how many times they’ve all been kissed. You wonder how many times they've kissed each other. You wonder how many barrack bunnies Price has been with, how many other omegas he’s been with. You can’t imagine Ghost being one for barrack bunnies, but then your mind sinks somewhere deeper. Ghost in his mask with an omega bent over the side of his bed, his hand wrapped around the back of their neck...

Another shiver runs down your spine, your lower body beginning to pulse in time with your heart.

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Price asks, still staring at you.

“Soap almost kissed me a couple days ago.” You admit, not trusting yourself not to admit to the other things you’re thinking about.

Price’s brows lift in surprise. “Did you not want him to?”

Want. There’s that word again. You keep hearing it, but you’re not entirely sure what it means anymore. He’s asking to be sure that Soap didn’t force you into anything, even though you can’t imagine the beta doing such a thing. Betas usually weren’t aggressive without good reason, not like alphas.

“Well...no, that’s not it...” You say, your face burning as you begin to regret your choice of topic. “I...I haven’t kissed anyone before...well, not like a real kiss. At The Institute, there was this omega, she was...progressive. Nothing they tried could break her of that and she got into the heads of a few other omegas. One of my bunkmates decided she didn’t want an alpha to be her first kiss, so...I volunteered.”

Price continues to stare at you, a dark look in his eyes. You know some alphas like to watch omegas together. You’ve seen it in movies, things your brothers would put on when they were babysitting, things that would have gotten them hit over the head if your father found out.

“Is that so?” He finally says, flicking some of the ash from the end of his cigar. “Not even a real kiss before you presented?”

You shake your head. “No. I was...the weird kid in school. Most people considered it social suicide to be around me.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet quite a few of them are kicking themselves now.”

“Why didn’t you want Soap to kiss you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. He’s still wondering if he needs to have a long chat with the young Sergeant, or perhaps take other action.

“Well...it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want it.” You say. “I just...thought you might be upset...if you weren’t my first...” You swallow nervously at his stare. “Since you’re pack alpha...you have the right to claim-”

“I wouldn’t care.” He cuts you off, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of him having all the rights to claim you. As if he was uncomfortable with the idea of holding a claim over someone else. “If you want your first kiss to be with one of the others, then you shouldn’t keep yourself from what you want.”

His words echo Dr. Keller’s. It confuses you, their willingness to allow you to want. You’re an omega, you don’t get to want. You get told what to do, what to wear. You get told what to want. You don’t make decisions, you sit and be a good omega for your alpha.

“I don’t know what I want.” You say quietly.

“Think about it.” He says, stubbing out his cigar. “I won’t be upset. Makes me feel a little better, in truth. Makes me feel less like an old creep trying to steal your innocence.”

You try not to smile at his words. “I mean...you are, in a way.”

He tsks at you but his eyes are playful as he checks his watch. “You’re trouble. We’ve got a few minutes before the hour is up. Let’s see if they can beat it.”

You stare out at the treeline, taking deep gulps of the cool air to try and calm yourself as you wait for the others to arrive. You’re still tingling a bit from your conversation with Price, that slight tickle still crawling across the back of your neck. You want him to hold you there, feel his calloused skin against yours, feel the strength of his fingers as they press into your skin. You want him to take all the turmoil away, the fear and the insecurity and the confusion.

You want to kneel for him.

You’re saved from your thoughts as a familiar figure breaks through the treeline, big and hulking and wearing a skull on his face. You’ve never seen him in this mask before, only ever seeing him in his balaclava. It’s a haunting image, only his eyes visible as he looks up at the top of the tower. Soap and Gaz appear behind him, the three of them making for the staircase.

Their boots echo on the steps as they race to the top, Soap the first one to appear with a wide grin.

“Aye, we found the target!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air and spinning.

You yelp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He smells like musk and sweat, and you can’t help but wonder if they ran here. He sets you back on your feet, your legs aching in protest after sitting for too long. The soreness of your morning hike has caught up to you, and you’ll be feeling it for a few days.

“Not bad.” Price says, looking at his watch. “For the first time with a new scent.” He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back and you can have the rest of the day off.”

You let out a whine in protest as Price grabs your backpack, gaining the attention of the four men. “You mean we have to walk back too?”

“It’s not even a kilometer.” Gaz says with a grin.

You pout. “I don’t know how far that is! I already had to walk for two hours this morning. My legs hurt.”

“You didn’t stretch before you started?” Soap asks.

“No! I didn’t know we’d be hiking halfway across the country when I was told to get up at 5 am!” You continue to pout.

“Come on, you’ll survive.” Price says, clipping your backpack across your chest again. “You can sleep for the rest of the day.”

You definitely have blisters, the sides of your feet burning as you walk down the stairs. You’re going to take a very long shower when you get back to base, and then crawl into bed and sleep until someone inevitably knocks because they’re worried about you. You’re still pouting, not having even thought about how you were going to get back to base.

Soap stops at the bottom of the steps, turning to glance at you behind him as he bends down slightly. “Hop on, hen.”

It takes you a moment to conceptualize what he’s doing before you break out in a grin, putting your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself onto his back. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he carries you piggy-back style.

“I’ve lifted weights heavier than you, bonny.” He says, not seeming to struggle at all with carrying you.

“Well, omegas are supposed to be small.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Aye, like a wee bairn.” Soap laughs.

He carries you all the way back to base, barely even breathing heavily by the time you break the treeline. The rocking motion of being carried, along with your exhaustion, has lulled you into a daze, your head leaning against his as you desperately fight sleep.

You’re jostled awake as Soap gently bounces you on his back. “We’re back, hen.”

You grumble sleepily, holding onto him tighter. “Comfy.”

“You’ll be comfier in bed, love.” Gaz says, stroking your hair.

“Carry me.” You murmur, both of them freezing.

“You sure about that, hen?” Soap asks. “You wan’t tae let us in your space?”

“Mmm...yeah.” You murmur, nuzzling Soap’s shoulder.

You miss the silent conversation between them in your half asleep state, the way Gaz’s hand hesitates on the knob, their slow, cautious steps into your space. It was a big deal, infringing upon an omega’s space. It’s sacred. One could only enter with permission, or if it was an emergency. Infringing on that space without permission could be detrimental.

Soap gently lowers you onto your bed, helping you curl up on your side. Gaz unties your boots, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling off your socks. He lets out a quiet hiss as he spots your raw and blistered feet.

“That’s going to hurt later.” He whispers. “No wonder she didn’t want to walk back.”

“Didnae say nothing either.” Soap says, his fingers trailing your cheek.

“Stubborn little omega.”

Gaz’s words are the last you hear before you’re lost to sleep, your brain forcing you to give in to your exhaustion finally.

It’s knocking at the door that wakes you. You’re not sure what time it is, or what planet you’re on. Your eyes are crusty with sleep, your pillow damp from drooling. You’re in your bed in the barracks, tucked under a blanket. You vaguely remember giving Gaz and Soap permission to enter before you were out again.

It’s still daylight, judging by the light around the edges of your curtains. Or maybe you had slept through the day and it was morning. You can’t tell, feeling a bit like you were hit by a bus and jumped dimensions.

“C’mon lass, ye got tae eat at least one meal today.” Soap’s voice calls through the door.

You let out a groan, pushing yourself up to sit. You haven’t even changed or showered, but your shoes have been removed. You flex your toes, wincing at the sharp pain from them. You pull the blanket off, staring down at your bandaged feet. They must be as blistered and raw as they had felt in your shoes. You don’t want to get up. You’re going to be sore and probably walking with a limp.

You know what they’re going to think.

The stares you’ll get.

Soon it will be for that reason, though, you think. Why not let them think it now? Then maybe by then they’ll be used to it and it’ll be much less mortifying for you.

You get up, padding barefoot to the door. You open it, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?” Your voice sounds rough with sleep, your tongue feeling heavy.

“Almost 1800 hours.” He answers. “Price let ye sleep. He and Gaz already ate. Had something tae take care of.”

You let out a quiet groan as you rub your eyes. You slept all day, past lunch and nearly past dinner. You likely would have kept sleeping, had they let you, but then you’d be up at an ungodly hour having to scrounge for food in the rec room.

“Get some shoes on.” Soap says. “We’ll get food in ye, then ye can sleep more.”

You let out a quiet grumble but do as he says, grabbing your most comfortable pair of shoes before following him out of the barracks. You let your hand slip into his, the base less populated on the weekend. The mess is still busy, though, most of those that stay keeping their schedules even over the weekend.

Soap helps you make your tray before finding Ghost sitting at a table. You deposit your tray across from them before going to grab something to drink. You look over the options, your sleep-drunk brain trying to decide on what you need.

“I recommend coffee.” A voice says behind you.

You spin around, looking up at a familiar face. Your stomach twists nervously, the back of your neck prickling. It’s the soldier that had been staring at you your second day on base, the one Ghost had scared off with his glare.

“You look like you need it.” He says, giving what you assume is supposed to be a friendly smile, except to you it looks like the grin of a hungry wolf in a storybook, and you’re the injured rabbit about to be devoured. You flinch just slightly as he holds out a hand. “I’m Corporal McKinney.”

You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t want to touch him at all. Catcalling you could handle, the stares and the whistles were nothing. None of them have been so brave as to approach you before now, and you’re starting to realize you prefer it that way.

An overwhelming scent suddenly washes over you, the prickling at the back of your neck intensifying. It’s rich and deep, the scent of leather and gunpowder lacing the ozone-like tang of anger, of danger.

“Can I help you, Corporal?” The deep voice rumbles behind you, the warmth close enough all you’d have to do was lean back slightly and you’d be touching him.

The soldier’s eyes lift from you to Ghost behind you, the wicked gleam to them fading as he stares down the giant alpha. “No, sir.” The soldier swallows thickly. “Just thought I’d introduce myself to the new omega on base. Figured we’d be seeing a lot of her around.”

“She’s no concern of yours.” Ghost says, a dangerous rumble vibrating at the edge of his voice. “You were given the briefing.”

He hesitates and you know he’s measuring the risk of staying, of saying something else. It’s not just the threat of a dangerous alpha, but also of his superior. “Of course, sir.” He finally says, eyeing you once more before he turns on his heel, leaving the mess.

“What do you want?”

You turn on your heel, staring up at Ghost. You’re shaking a little, staring up at him wide-eyed. You no longer feel the haze of sleep, wide awake and alert. Ghost is staring down at you, his scent far less prominent than it had been before.

“To drink.” He motions to the selection, waiting on you to answer.

You stare at the options, your brain trying hard to snap back into the present, to comprehend what you’re looking at. You’re on edge, on high alert after that confrontation.

“W-Water please.” You manage to stutter out,

“Go sit back down. I’ll get it.” He says, turning his back to you.

You scurry back to the table, still trembling as you take your seat again. You’re getting stares, likely from the change in your scent. It’s alerting every alpha and beta in close proximity, their instincts reacting to the scent of fear, of an threatened omega.

“Ye alright, hen?” Soap asks, giving you a worried look. The scent of beta washes over you, Soap projecting his scent to try and cover yours and calm you all at once.

You nod, trying to swallow the panic before you alert the entire mess to your current emotional state. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Ghost returns with a glass of water, setting it in front of you before taking his seat again.

“Thank you.” You murmur, taking a long drink of it. It’s ice cold, the sensation shocking you back into reality a bit.

You’re still trembling slightly as you eat, the back of your neck still prickling. You glance around the quickly emptying mess, eyes following every person that walks too close to the table. You know you’re safe. Soap and Ghost would make quick work of anyone who tried anything.

Ghost did make quick work of the alpha that had approached you.

You’re still in a bit of disbelief that Ghost had come to your aid. You remember the anger burning in his scent, the rumble at the edge of his voice. An alpha poised for a fight. Of course, you were being cornered by another alpha. You don’t doubt Soap could have easily won that fight if he had to, but an alpha had the natural advantage in a fight against other alphas. If it had been a beta cornering you, would he have still come to your aid? Or would he have watched and let Soap handle it?

You're drawn from your thoughts as Soap’s phone rings, and he dismisses himself from the table to answer it. You wonder who it might be. Family maybe? Price? You wish you had someone that would call you regularly. You will, once they start leaving you.

You’re left alone with Ghost, your eyes trying to look anywhere but at him. He takes your tray once you’re done, going to dump it before motioning for you to follow. You’re still a bit shaken, though you’ve managed to get your trembling under control, as well as your scent.

He leads you back towards the barracks, your pace faster to keep up with him. Your feet hurt, but you’re eager to get back to the familiar safety of the barracks.

You stop as a whistle sounds through the air, Ghost’s steps faltering as well.

“Gonna go spread your legs for that freak, bunny?” A voice calls out across the courtyard. “I’m sure I could offer you a better time. At least you’ll be able to see my face.”

The smell of ozone washes over you again, burning straight to some primal part of your brain. You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion, or the emotions still reeling from your confrontation in the mess, but you turn on your heel, stalking over to the group of soldiers. You’re trembling again, but not out of fear. The anger has gone straight to your instincts, burning hot through your veins.

The soldiers laugh as you approach, the one that had spoken grinning vilely at you. “Gonna take me up on my offer, omega?” The sound of your title from his lips nearly makes you shudder in disgust. It’s wrong, it sounds wrong being said in such a way. “I’d love to bend you over and stare at that sweet ass all night-”

It’s not until your hand is throbbing that you register what happened. The soldier stumbles back a step, hand moving to his face. Your hand is balled in a fist, knuckles throbbing from the punch you delivered to his face. The next few moments seem to move in slow motion, your body pushed backwards as a hulking form comes to stand in front of you. The scent of ozone is still burning hot in your nose, anger pulsing through your body. Your ears are ringing, your hands refusing to unball from the fists they’ve closed into. You’re breathing heavily, eyes training on a small speck of mud on the back of Ghost’s jacket.

“-You even so much as look in her direction again, I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them to the back of a humvee and drag you all the way to London, understood?” The dangerous rumble is back at the edge of his voice, his own hands balled into fists.

“Loud and clear, sir.” The soldier spits out, massaging his face from your punch.

A rough hand closes around your arm, making you stumble as you’re half dragged towards the barracks. You’re breathing heavily, breaths coming in gasps as the flood of emotions through you grows to almost be too much. You’re led down the hall towards the rec room, Ghost pushing you inside.

“Sit.” He snaps, pointing at the couch.

You scramble to sit where he pointed, your brain beginning to move in autopilot as you cradle your throbbing hand to your chest. It’s still curled in a fist, the adrenaline pumping through you preventing you from uncurling your fingers. You try to steady your breathing as Ghost digs around in the fridge for a moment. You flinch as the door slams closed, Ghost dropping an ice pack on the coffee table before he takes a seat next to you on the couch.

He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him rather roughly. He forces your fingers to uncurl, his own rough fingers digging into your hand, poking and prodding. He moves your fingers, bending your wrist and moving your arm. “It’s not broken.” He says, grabbing the ice pack and slapping it across your knuckles. “Luckily.”

You’re still trembling, your hand lifting subconsciously to hold the ice pack in place. You feel dazed, not unlike you had earlier when you’d been pulled from sleep, only this time you can feel the emotions still pulsing through you. The remnants of anger, the disgust, the fear both from attacking an alpha, and the reprimanding you’re sure you’re due for doing such a thing.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” You murmur, feeling far away, outside of your body looking in.

“Probably not.” Ghost says.

You turn slightly to look at him, pupils dilated as you simultaneously appear to see him and look straight through him. “Price is gonna find out.”

Ghost nods again, the burn of ozone gone from his scent. “He’ll believe you, though. Anything you tell him, he’s going to believe you over what anyone else says.”

You stare at him, the skull mask from earlier gone, leaving him just in his balaclava. His eyelashes are blonde, you think as you take him in, trying to ground yourself. His skin looks soft, but that could just be the omega screaming at you. You expect him to get up, to leave you alone until you find the will to move, or one of the others finds you. Yet, he stays where he is, eyes focused across the room as you sit there.

“You’re a purebred alpha.” You say, breaking the silence with the thought that had come to mind earlier. You need to keep talking, to keep your mind steady while you relax.

“How did you figure it out?” He asks, not denying it.

“Your scent.” You say, recalling earlier in the mess, the way his scent had permeated your entire body. You hadn’t just sensed it, you had felt it. His emotions, his anger, the hint of desperation for the Corporal to make the smart decision and walk away. “It’s different from other alphas. Price smells good and I’d like to roll around in his scent, but yours hits some deep primal part of my brain.” You say, turning slowly to face him. “Makes sense you’d end up in a position like this. You’re supposed to be like, an apex human.” You laugh quietly. “Just a couple of purebreds. What are the odds?”

“Very high.” He answers.

You laugh again. “Yeah, I know. Both of my parents were purebreds, and my grandparents. Both of them came from a long line of purebreds.” Your brows pinch into a frown. “I didn’t see it in your file, though.”

“I don’t want it to be.” He explains.

“Makes sense.” You say. “If I’d had that choice I’d have it left out too. As soon as someone sees it, that’s how they measure your worth. It’s not about you anymore, it’s your status they want.” You lift the ice, moving your fingers. Your hand is sore, your knuckles starting to swell a bit.

“It’ll bruise.” He says, staring down at your hand.

“‘Spose it could have been worse.” You say, grimacing at the ache pulsing all the way to your shoulder.

“Yeah,” He scoffs. “You could have broken your arm with a punch like that.”

“‘S not my fault the CIA didn’t teach me much.” You murmur. “They mostly made me run.” You remember the hours and hours you spend running circles around the gym. So many circles, over and over again.

Get involved in their hobbies. Your brain flicks through that section of the book, an idea beginning to form in your head. You’d considered it a few days ago, when you first read that chapter. Ghost speaks in violence and warfare, fighting and defending. How do you bond with the apex of humankind?

“Teach me to fight.”

His eyes shift slowly until he’s looking at you. You wish you could see the rest of his face, read his expression. His eyes don't give you much to go off of, something he'd likely perfected over the years.

“Or, at least defend myself.” You continue, fighting the urge to shrink back under his gaze. “I know, Price already told me to run first, but what if that's not an option? Am I gonna throw a shitty punch and hope it works? Aim between the legs and hope I'm faster than they can block? I promise I won't go around trying to fight asshole alphas.”

He continues to stare at you, his eyes locked on yours. Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach twisting nervously but there's no challenge in his gaze, not even a playful one like you'd initiated with Price. He's simply staring.

You wonder what he's looking for, what he's thinking. Will he laugh at you for asking? Tell you to ask someone else? Get Price to do it since he’s actually your alpha?

“Fine.” He grunts, breaking eye contact first as he pushes himself to stand. “We start Monday. Early.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him leave the rec room. You may have just found your way into Ghost’s heart, or at least a way to get him to tolerate your presence.

Monday. Early.

You’ll be ready.

Taglist Part 1:

@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10

#call of duty fic #call of duty #cod fic #john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #a/b/o #alpha beta omega dynamics #omegaverse #x reader

2K notes · View notes

thef1diary · 8 months

Note

Hey Di! I can’t help but feel like Daniel would LOVE watching his gal get ready 👀😍

Watching Me | D. Ricciardo

Summary: Daniel can't keep his eyes off you while you're getting ready to go out.

Warnings: none really, just a lotta fluff

Pairing: daniel x fem!reader (established relationship)

word count: 988

It's just something all men absolutely hate. You told yourself when you've been told multiple times in the past that it takes you too long to get dressed.

However the man that was currently watching you didn't have any sort of expression on his face that told you he didn't like this. He had a slight smirk on his face, so it was actually quite the contrary.

During the three years of your relationship, Daniel has never once voiced irritation over it. He actually enjoys watching you go through your routine step by step rather than leaving you to get dressed alone. And that is exactly what he is doing now.

Leaning against the doorframe, he is watching you stood with a towel wrapped around your body and another around your hair. You were applying your skincare products when you noticed him through the mirror. "What are you doing?"

He took that as a sign to walk further into the room, standing behind you but not touching you just yet. "Admiring the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on."

His simple statement made you blush profusely and you shook your head with a smile on your face but didn't respond. Even after three years, he was still capable of making you speechless.

A few moments of silence later, while you continued your routine—now doing your hair—Daniel decided to wrap his arms around your body, resting his chin on your shoulder. Usually you wouldn't mind his embrace, in fact you actually liked it a lot but at the moment it restricted you from properly drying your hair. "Daniel?"

He hummed in response, "go change" you simply stated which made him chuckle. "Why, don't I look good like this?" He asked, gesturing to his current outfit he wore after taking a shower earlier in the day—shorts from his latest enchanté collection and a plain white t shirt.

You turned around, finally facing him. Placing a hand on his cheek, you spoke "as much as I love seeing those, it's our anniversary, baby." You pointed to his thigh tattoos that Daniel knew how much you adored.

He placed a kiss on your lips before walking towards the closet and picking out a suit. Actually, after going through all the suit options, he chose two then came to you to chose the final one.

Meanwhile, you decided to remove your towel and moisturize your body. Unfortunately for Daniel, he missed that part while he was getting dressed.

However, he returned to the room while you were putting your dress on. He had a white dress shirt on but didn't button it up. On the other hand, you were struggling to zip up your dress, you saw him through the mirror again, smiling at your struggles. "A little help please?"

He came up right behind you, moving your hair out of the way before tugging the zipper up. He turned you around and placed a kiss on your bare shoulder which was decorated by a small design in ink.

That's when you noticed his unbuttoned shirt. "What's this?" You asked with a smile on your face, knowing Daniel's antics very well. In fact he's been in a mischievous mood all day today. You didn't blame him, mainly because you were also in a celebratory mood, as you two were celebrating three years of being in a relationship.

"A little help please?" He shrugged, standing with an innocent look on his face. His bare torso also revealed the tattoo he had near his shoulder, of love and life, and you grazed your thumb over it before moving down his chest.

You returned the favour by buttoning his shirt up but also had a teasing smirk on your face, "am I supposed to get dressed or help you get dressed?"

"What can I say, I like taking up all your attention." He responded instantly. Truth is, with Daniel, your smile never fades away so it wasn't a surprise that you had a smile on your face.

"Is there a problem with that?" He added, but you shook your head. "No, what can I say, you already have all of my attention."

"Good, because you have all of my attention too, every second of every day." He pulled you closer by his grasp on your waist, touching your nose with his before rubbing them together. This little gesture has become a habit over the years.

"Even while you're racing?" You asked when he pulled back. Your question made him laugh, showing off his pearly whites, "yes even when I'm racing."

"Look at you, openly admitting this bad habit of yours." You clicked your tongue and shook your head, turning around to start your makeup.

"You're not my bad habit, but if you were, I'd be a goner." He stated, which made you pause. "Daniel, you can't say things like that."

He shrugged and moved next to you, picking out the products he uses to style his hair. Truth is, once you started dating him, you also convinced him to buy styling products for his hair. After all, he had amazing curls but would barely take care of them. So whenever you saw him using the products you recommended, you smiled.

Instead of looking at himself in the mirror, he was looking at you, captivated by your beauty. What can he say, he fell in love with you more and more every day.

You two were silently enjoying each other’s presence while trying to quickly get dressed as Daniel made reservations at your favourite restaurant. He finished before you, using the extra time to sit on the bed, just watching you with a smile on his face.

This is something that will never get old, him watching you with love and admiration present in his eyes.

#f1 #daniel ricciardo #f1 fic #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #thef1diary fic #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff

2K notes · View notes

lxkeee · 3 months

Note

Hi!! I absolutely adore/love your works!🥰💕 Also if you do accept a request can you do platonic with reader as the second child of Lucifer and Lilith!

If your requests are closed you can just ignore this and have a good day/night!😁

TO-DO LIST

—Father! Lucifer Morningstar x Daughter! Reader [Platonic]

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Synopsis: Lucifer promised himself to do better, making a to-do list to keep track of what he needed to work on. Including mending his broken relationship with his second daughter.

Notes: will be making a male version of this later.

Additional Notes: anon didn't specify what scenario it is so I just winged it and made up a scenario of my own.

Progress, sure it's slow but progress is progress no matter what the speed of the process is. Lucifer sighs softly to himself, his right hand holding a fountain pen and his left holding a notepad. Moving his hand as he fluidly crossed out something from the paper.

Organize my room. Done.

He smiled proudly at himself, admiring his work. His bedroom is now neat and tidy, the pile of rubber duckies are now stored away properly. Some are used as decorations but the others were hidden somewhere. He made sure to display his proudest creations, such as the backflipping and fire breathing rubber duckie he recently just made.

He promised himself and Charlie that he'll be better. He thanked himself for allowing himself to visit his daughter's hotel. There, he was able to reconnect with her.

His eyes became heavy as his gaze landed on the very last goal he wanted to achieve. Reconnect with [y/n].

Reconnecting with Charlie was easy as the girl was like an exact copy of him. [Y/n] on the other hand is the copy of Lilith, his ex-wife.

Sure, she has his qualities but personality wise. Lilith.

He and [y/n] stopped communicating with one another after he and Lilith split. Guilt. He felt guilty.

He avoided his second daughter as she reminded him so much of her mother.

It's not [y/n]'s fault, nor is it his. He was just grieving, grieving over a love that lasted for so long and suddenly fell apart.

He couldn't process it properly and hurt his daughters in the process.

He doesn't even know what [y/n] is up to lately. Last he remembered is that she took over some things around the kingdom as he was quite useless during these past seven years.

What a shitty father he is. He couldn't protect his daughter. He wonders how much his daughter is going through by temporarily taking his place for the meantime. He could just imagine those filthy sinners looking at her with those disgusting eyes. The harsh words, the objectification.

He just wants to shelter and adore both of his daughters, okay?

Lucifer sighs softly, hand gripping the notepad.

He wants to reconnect so badly but he's being too much of a coward.

He doesn't want to admit it but he's doing all of these tasks because he's prolonging the inevitable of talking to [y/n].

Running away like he always does.

Before he could self destruct like he always does when facing a problem, he could remember Charlie's words, “Healing takes time and you shouldn't rush things if you're not ready. Take one step at a time.”

Lucifer calms down, right. Take my time. I should use this to think about what I should say to her.

Progress, just like Charlie has said.

Slowly and surely, goals that were written down are crossed out one by one.

It took a few weeks at most but he's finally done. Taking out his pen and crossing something out of the notepad.

Try to understand sinners. Done.

His eyes landed on his final goal. Reconnect with [y/n].

Taking a deep breath, trying to calm his fast beating heart. He's nervous, that's an understatement because he is downright terrified.

Finally picking up his phone, tapping on to the screen to look for his contacts.

Finally seeing [y/n]'s contact, her profile a rubber duck version of her that he had made.

Taking a deep breath, trying to remember what he planned to say. Finally, his fingers hit the call button.

Ringing. It's ringing.

His fingers taps along the table of his office nervously, waiting for her to accept his call.

“Father...?” [y/n] answers hesitantly from the other line and his heart almost leaped out of his chest. He cringed a little, after his relationship with his second daughter fell apart. She started calling him father instead of dad. Which sounded way too formal for his liking.

Taking a deep breath, he needs this to be perfect.

“Hey sweetie... I am just calling because I am wondering how you have been?” he says, stuttering a little.

The other line went silent for a few moments before she answered, “Are you okay? This has been the first time you've called me in the last... 5 years. Do you need something father?”

He could practically hear doubts in her voice, imagining that she's raising an eyebrow at him at the moment.

“Are you busy at the moment...?” he asked softly and he could hear the deep sigh from the other line, he could practically hear the disappointment from the sigh she let out.

She probably thought he only called her for a favor. What a bad father he is, really.

“Not at the moment, why?”she asked.

“Can I visit?” he asked hesitantly and the line went silent once more.

“Why...?” she asked, he flinches from the question.

“Can't I visit my daughter now?” he asked, jokingly. He can practically imagine her deadpanning at him.

“Surprised to hear you still call me your daughter, I'm sure I didn't feel it for the last seven ish years.”

He flinches, yeah. He hurt her a lot.

“I know [y/n]... I was a horrible father to you and you didn't deserve that treatment but... I want to be better. For you and Charlie... So please? Can I see you...?” he pleaded softly, tears rolling down his cheeks. He could hear her breath hitched from the other line, followed by a sigh.

“Alright, fine. You can come over.” she says, defeated. No matter what he did, she'll always look for her dad.

The phone call ends and Lucifer takes a deep breath, calming himself before eventually teleporting to the other side of the pride circle, where his daughter's office is located.

He immediately teleported to her office, seeing her working on her desk, typing out on her laptop.

Without giving her time to process, he immediately went to her side. Pulling her up from her seat making her yelp in surprise and hugging her.

“Dad?!” she yelped in surprise, surprised by the warmth her father gave her after seven long years. The male hugged her waist. [Y/n]'s eyes soften as she returns the hug.

“I know I treated you so horribly and I cannot justify my actions. You have been nothing but the best daughter to me and I pushed you away. For that I am sorry, please forgive me.” Lucifer pleaded softly, crying silently against her suit.

“I should've been there for you as you lost your mother but I made it all about me. You had to take over my work while also grieving. I should've been more competent but I pushed all my responsibilities to you and for that I am deeply sorry for hurting you.”

[Y/n] stayed silent, crying silently as she hugged her father. She misses him so much.

“And for that, I hope you know that I am very much proud of you. I love you my dearest princess.” he says softly and it was enough for the girl to finally breakdown, sobbing into her father's shoulders as she kneeled down to reach him. Lucifer held her, holding her body protectively.

“I am grateful that you are my daughter more than anything.” he says, running his hand through her hair. His other hand rubs circles on her back for comfort. “You've grown into such an amazing woman and I am very proud of you. I hope you forgive your father for making you do his work. Don't worry, daddy's here now...” he cooed softly, still holding into the crying girl in his arms. He promised to be better. One step at a time.

General Taglist:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lxkeee answers #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lxkeee updates #lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar

566 notes · View notes

mostlymarvelsstuff · 3 months

Text

Reader receives Carols nudes accidentally

Authors note: First time writing Carol, so hopefully I do her justice

Word count: 628 Marvel Masterlist How To React To Masterlist

Carol had finally been convinced, by both you and Kamala, to upgrade her way of communication. Talking through her ship's comms system was tedious at times, and pagers were for emergencies only, so she needed something better. Something more universal and portable. Which is how she ended up with the smartphone she now has.

She has to admit, it's much nicer than a pager. And it makes communication a breeze now. Not to mention everything else it's capable of. She's very thankful Kamala had put in everyone's numbers for her, and that you had helped walk her through setting it up. Without the two of you, she's sure that all this time later she’d still be staring at the blank screen that had greeted her when she first opened the box.

She's currently scrolling through her messages, looking for your conversation specifically, and she smiles once she finds it. She clicks on it, but ponders on what exactly to say. It was normally you that reached out to her first, as she still wasn’t quite used to having the device, but today Carol felt like being the one to reach out and check on you for a change. She had really missed you of late, and didn’t particularly care if that became known to you.

She contemplated on what exactly she wanted to say, but nothing seemed to sound right to her. Part of her isn’t sure why she's so worried about sending something that would be deemed more interesting than the usual text, but then she remembers that it's you and quickly realizes why she feels that the ordinary just simply wouldn’t do.

She sighs and sets her phone down next to her, and runs a hand through her hair as she continues to think. As she does so Goose makes his way into the room and over to the stumped hero. He hops up onto the bed next to her, unknowingly stepping on the phone in the process effectively attaching and sending a photo. This particular one was of Carol nude and all sweaty post workout. Unfortunately the blonde hadn’t noticed as she was too busy racking her brain for a decent way to greet you.

You however had noticed as soon as you received the notification and the sight alone was enough to have your knees wobbling. Carol and you have always had a slightly more than friendly flirtatious relationship, but this, well it had caught you rather off guard. It’s not that you didn’t enjoy it, because you absolutely did, you just hadn't expected her to be so wordlessly bold.

“Move. I need to text Y/n and you shouldn’t be standing on that anyway” she reprimands as she notices where her alien feline friend is. But as she brushes him aside and picks up her phone she finally becomes aware of what's happened, and she can feel the color drain from her face, “Oh my god, Goose!”

The flerken looks at her nonchalantly as he walks away, clearly having no idea or care of the anxiety he's just caused in the woman. This anxiety only increases when she notices that you're typing out a reply, and she finds herself no longer minding that she was off earth at the moment. Spares her from having to look you in the eye anytime soon after this blunder.

Wow Captain, that's quite a conversation starter.

The color comes back to her face tenfold as her cheeks burn a bright pink, Well, you know I like making an entrance

Mhm, and when will you be making one on earth again?

Carol can feel her pulse race at the question, As soon as I’m needed

I think you're going to be needed tomorrow evening. Wear something nice <3

#carol x y/n #carol danvers x reader #carol x reader #carol danvers #fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #captain marvel

466 notes · View notes

another-lost-mc · 11 months

Text

When MC Feels Burnout/Emotionally Numb THE DEMON BROTHERS 4.1k words | SFW | gn!Reader | Emotional Hurt/Comfort | Fluff & Angst A/N: The relationships between MC and the brothers can be read as romantic or platonic. The twins' sections are combined. ♫ [ MC's POV: Song Rec ]

─── LUCIFER:

Lucifer is concerned when you come to the dining room table for breakfast looking worse for wear; there's dark circles under your eyes like you haven't slept. You pour yourself a cup of tea and wrap your hands around the warm porcelain, but you don't drink it. Your breakfast plate remains untouched, and eventually you shuffle out of the room without a word.

He keeps an eye on you at RAD, but you're unusually withdrawn. You follow his brothers from class to class, eyes downturned and silent despite the lively conversations going on around you. Everyone walks home together that afternoon, but when he glances back to see how you are, he notices you’re lagging behind the rest of the group. He slows his pace to match yours, but you barely seem to notice; the walk home is silent.

When dinner time comes and goes without any change in your behaviour, he decides he needs to do something to snap you out of this little funk you're in. Later that evening, he invites you to keep him company in his study while he finishes his work. You accept in a monotone voice; it could be misconstrued as boredom, but he knows better.

Sometimes you read and listen to cursed records while he works at his desk, but tonight the random book you plucked off the shelf lays unopened in your lap. You stare unseeing into the fireplace, and your body is tense like you can’t relax.

He picks up something he was supposed to finish tonight—a folder full of documents to review and sign— but you barely notice when he sits beside you. He gives up all pretense of working when he places the folder and your unread book on the floor by his feet. He tucks you under his arm and pulls you against his side. You lean against him, a little reluctantly at first, until you start to relax. Your cheek is pressed against his chest and his heartbeat thumps gently beneath your ear.

He’s not sure how much time passes when you finally drift off to sleep. There’s something vulnerable about the way your body melts against his, and he wonders where he went wrong that led you to be in such a state to begin with.

He considers waking you so you can go back to your room to sleep. He contemplates carrying you somewhere more comfortable so he doesn't have to wake you—his room is closer, and maybe you won’t mind sharing a bed with him if it’s only for one night. Light and shadow from the fireplace dance along your skin, and you’re so warm in his arms; moving now seems like an impossibility.

A sore back in the morning seems like a fair price to pay when he decides to keep you exactly where you are. He maneuvers so carefully while he leans back against the armrest and holds you to his chest. He pulls the blanket off the back of the sofa and makes sure you’re covered before he closes his eyes. He doesn’t even notice that he syncs his breathing with yours, and he falls asleep not long after.

─── MAMMON:

Mammon eagerly tells you about his day—the things he bought, his wins at the casino, how his part-time gig is going—and he’s used to getting some sort of reaction from you (good or bad).

Today, you look at him blankly and tell him that’s nice in a quiet, emotionless voice that worries him. Having you scold him for being financially irresponsible (while you bite the inside of your cheek to resist the urge to smile) would be better than this. He’s stunned by your lack of a reaction, and you turn away from him when you’ve decided you don’t need to focus on paying attention to him anymore.

After dinner, he goes to your room and finds you laying in bed, staring at your ceiling and drumming the mattress idly with your fingertips.

"Whatcha doin’?" he asks, even though he knows what you're going to say next.

“Nothing,” your quiet, flat tone replies.

“Good. Come on,” he says in a much chipper voice than yours as he grabs both your hands and practically pulls you out of bed. He leads you outside the front door where his car is parked, thrumming gently while the engine runs. He flips on the seat warmer for you and glances at you occasionally from the corner of his eye; he hopes you’ll melt into the warm leather soon.

“We're just goin’ for a little drive,” he explains, even though you don't bother asking where he's taking you in the middle of the night. The radio is streaming music from his phone, and he keeps the volume low. He nods towards his D.D.D. on the dash. “You can change it if you want,” he offers, and he’s not surprised when you decline.

He drives away from the bustling streets of the Devildom. The road is empty and the skies are clearer here, but he knows brief moments of tranquility aren’t enough to alleviate whatever it is that’s bothering you.

He’s never been good with words, but he rests his hand palm-up over the gear shift. He’s not sure you even notice since you’ve been staring out the window most of the drive. After a few moments, you surprise him and put your hand in his. He squeezes your hand gently before lacing your fingers together; it feels like a victory when you don’t pull away.

Every once in a while he squeezes your fingers between his, and he smiles at the dark, open road when you do the same.

─── LEVIATHAN:

Leviathan knows what it’s like to feel numb. Sometimes he feels that way when his self-imposed isolation wears him down. Talking to Henry and surrounding himself with his games and manga and toys isn't always enough to fill the black void of jealousy that makes his tone sharp and his fangs even sharper.

He gets that way when he thinks about all things he wants but doesn’t have—he notices you become this way from doing too much for everyone else until you lose yourself in the process.

Between the two of you, you should be able to find some sort of balance. He feels like you should both know better, but here you are, drowning in your own black void while he watches helplessly. He can barely help himself; how can he possibly help you?

For lack of better ideas, he invites you to his room to play games. Usually you’re so animated when you play together; you jeer at him when he spins out due to a perfectly-timed banana, or you toss your controller aside and tickle him when his shell knocks you out of first place.

That level of enthusiasm is gone today; you tap the controller pad in total silence. You don’t care when you come in last place, and you don’t care when Levi throws the match so you can win. He turns off the TV and shuffles on the floor so he’s facing you. You glance at him occasionally but go back to staring at your lap.

Levi hates it when you cry, but he hates this dead-eyed stare of yours even more. He grunts in frustration when he gets up suddenly and grabs a small tin off his desk.

“Come here for a sec, I could use your help,” he says, and he shakes the tin in your direction until you get up from the sofa and shuffle to his side. He leads you to the aquarium where Henry bobs peacefully in the crystal-blue water. Levi hands you the tin and unfolds a step ladder he keeps tucked away. He climbs the ladder carefully so he can open the window at the top of the tank.

You open the can of fish flakes when he asks you to, and he sprinkles a generous helping across the top of the water. You’re transfixed by the sight of Henry dashing through the water for his supper, and Levi can’t stop staring at you.

“Sometimes he’s good to talk to,” Levi mentions off-handedly. “Henry is a good listener.”

(Both his Henry’s are good listeners, Levi thinks.)

“What do you talk about?” you ask him quietly, still watching the fish eat the tiny flakes.

“All sorts of stuff. Anything you want—he doesn’t judge.”

(You have that in common, too.)

Levi sputters a little, embarrassed by all the things he’s telling you, his little self-care rituals he normally keeps to himself. He thinks that even in your worst moments, like the way you are now, you’re still not nearly as pathetic as he is. You don’t deserve to feel like this, ever.

You glance away from the aquarium and meet Levi’s eyes just as tears begin to collect on his lash line. He clears his throat and takes the tin from you before putting it back on his desk. He pretends to organize things so he has an excuse not to turn around.

“Maybe you can come by tomorrow night and help me feed him again,” he manages to choke out.

A pause, and then you whisper, “I’d like that.”

Levi bites his lip to muffle his sobs.

─── SATAN:

Satan watches you during class and realizes you’re not acting like yourself. You tap your pen idly on the desk and stare at nothing. This is your favourite class but you’re not even listening.

Sometimes you come to his room after dinner and read, but not today. After school, you brush past everyone else and head to your room. He’s worried about you, and he’s not going to let you blow him off tonight. He knocks on your door, and your lifeless voice asks why he cares so much. He gets tongue-tied deciding how to respond:

I like spending time with you. You like reading nearly as much as I do and I don’t want that to ever change. It kills me to see you like this.

“It’s important to me,” is all he manages to say, and you must sense his desperation because you finally agree to follow him back to his room.

You sit on the bed while he picks the book off the shelf for you. You make a quiet noise of surprise when he places a pillow in your lap and lays down. Normally he reads to you, but his eyes are gentle when he holds the book out to you instead.

“Can you read a bit tonight?” he asks quietly. You frown and look like you want to argue, but he pushes just a little more—”for only a few chapters, okay?”

You take the book from him and pull out the bookmark when you find the right chapter. You glance down at him and when he smiles encouragingly, you start to read.

Your tone is quiet and dull at first, and your speech is slurred; Satan has trouble understanding you sometimes. He wonders if this was a stupid idea after all, but then you huff in amusement when you read a funny passage. He peers up at you and the little smile still tugs at the corners of your mouth as you finish the chapter.

You read another whole chapter after that, and Satan nearly melts in your lap when your free hand lazily combs through his hair as you read. Your eyes are a bit brighter when you finally stop reading and close the book.

“I can read a bit more if you’d like,” he asks you when he sits up. He almost expects you to refuse and shuffle away, but you nod and lay down when he sets the pillow in his lap for you to rest on.

He reads another chapter, quieter and slower than usual, and he stops reading when you fall asleep. He sets the book aside and moves you gently off his lap so he can settle into the space behind you. He drapes an arm loosely over your waist and contemplates other ways he can help you feel better.

─── ASMODEUS:

It breaks Asmo’s heart to see you like this. Your lovely complexion betrays the long days and poor sleep you’ve had. Your warm, shining gaze is dull. Your brow is creased with little lines and your mouth is downturned—he misses your easy smiles the most.

Sometimes Asmo feels like a ghost when he smiles at you but it feels like you see through him, not really acknowledging him or anything else around you.

He switches apps on his D.D.D. when he sees your message ping the group chat. You say that you’re not cooking dinner tonight (no explanation given) and that Lucifer should use part of your allowance this week to order food for everyone instead.

Asmo doesn’t blame you for not wanting to cook for seven hungry demons, but he has a suspicion that you plan on locking yourself in your room all night and skipping dinner for the third night in a row.

(You might’ve been at the dinner table every night this week, but he noticed that you just moved the food around in your plate without eating anything.)

No, he won’t let you do this to yourself. He understands wanting space and having lazy days, but that isn’t what this is. This is isolation and sadness and exhaustion, and if he feels this upset seeing how affected you are, he can’t imagine what you feel—or don’t feel—inside.

Asmo sends a quick message to Lucifer and asks him not to order anything for dinner just yet. Worst case scenario, Asmo will cave and order dinner for everyone later—but for now, Asmo marches to your room with a plan instead.

You’re buried under the covers when he lets himself into your room. He doesn’t bother turning on the lights; he can see you perfectly without them. He sits down slowly on the edge of the bed and rests his hand on your hip.

“How are you feeling, sweetie?” he asks quietly, and normally you laugh away his pet names for you, but today you shrug under the comforter instead.

“M’fine,” you mumble into your pillow.

“I could use your help with something,” he says, leaning down closer to your ear. He presses lightly against the side of your body like a poor imitation of an embrace. “How about you get up and keep me company, hmm?”

You’re quiet and don’t say anything, and Asmo’s hopeful smile starts to drop when he thinks you’re ignoring him. After an awkward minute of silence, you sigh and turn your head slightly towards him. “Help you with what?”

He’s not going to give you the chance to change your mind, and he stands up and reaches for your hand. “I’ll show you in the kitchen.”

Asmo steers you towards a barstool in the corner of the kitchen so you can relax while he makes dinner. He has an assortment of ingredients spread out across the counter. The family recipe book is opened to one of your own additions added to the back pages.

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” he grins and winks over his shoulder at you. “I’ll cook tonight, and if I get stuck, who better to help than you?” He taps his chin thoughtfully and takes his D.D.D. out of his pocket and hands it to you for safekeeping.

Asmo might not be the most skilled cook among his siblings, but he’s confident enough that he follows your recipe correctly—for the most part. If you didn’t know him better, you would think he was exaggerating his movements and adding commentary to each step to be silly. But you do know Asmo, and you recognize this as his natural playfulness when he does something he enjoys.

Nearly twenty minutes later, there’s splatters of sauce on the front of his apron and he adds more salt and pepper to the pot with a flourish. When he turns his head to check on you, his mouth purses in surprise when the flash on his phone camera lights up the room. He blinks rapidly when he realizes you took a picture.

He jabs the stirring spoon in your direction with a playful glare. “I hope you got my best side,” he jokes. He’s self-conscious about the spices he knows that got in his hair somehow, and there’s something sticky on his cheek.

You slip the phone into your pocket and slide off the stool so you can reach for a clean cloth. You run it under the lukewarm tap for a moment, and your lips twitch into a smile when you wipe away the smear of sauce near his mouth.

“You’re doing great,” you murmur quietly, glancing at the pot simmering on the stove.

“Does it smell good enough to eat?” he asks nervously, and he beams when you nod.

He wraps his arms around you and laughs as he hugs you as tight as he can. He knows the apron is making a mess on your clothes, but he doesn’t care. Neither do you, apparently—you wrap your arms around him after a few moments and hug him back.

─── BEELZEBUB & BELPHEGOR:

Beel walks to his room dejectedly, and not even the bags of treats from Madam Scream's hanging off his arms makes him feel any better.

He invited you to go with him to the pastry shop after school today. He knows you're not eating properly, but that combined with your bleak mood and dull expressions convinces him that there's something wrong beyond not being hungry.

He watched you during meal times every day this week: you shuffled your food around on the plate and didn't eat anything, or you took little nibbles out of something then dropped your fork on the plate with a sigh and left the rest uneaten.

He went to the bakery after school today, alone. Even though he invited you, you said you weren't in the mood and walked home without him. He bought a few boxes of his favourites, and some for his brothers to share, and he bought a half-dozen Blood Velvet cupcakes especially for you.

He knocked on your bedroom door when he got home and told you he had a surprise, but he was met with silence. He heard the faint creak of mattress springs, but you didn't come to the door and you didn't respond. He frowned, but he explained in the cheeriest voice he could muster that he brought you some cupcakes.

“Thanks, you can have 'em, though,” your muffled voice replied through the door.

It’s an understatement to say that Beel is extremely concerned about you.

He walks to the room he shares with his twin. Usually Belphie naps in the attic after school (more often than not, he convinces you to nap with him). It’s a surprise when Beel finds Belphie sitting cross-legged on his bed with his pillow in his lap, and his eyes snap to his brother’s as soon as the door closes.

“They're not eating enough,” Beel tells his twin. He sets aside the boxes of pastries he bought, his appetite and mood completely soured.

“They're not sleeping enough either,” Belphie replies. He doesn't tell Beel about your sleepless nights, but his brothers would have to be blind not to notice your haggard appearance and the dark circles blooming under your eyes. You haven't napped with Belphie in over a week either, and he misses you—but he keeps that complaint to himself.

"What can we do?" Beel asks as he drops heavily on the edge of his bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and runs a hand through his hair.

Belphie is quiet for a moment, and he glances at the boxes of abandoned pastries Beel brought home. "What’s the plan for dinner tonight?"

Beel looks up and scratches the back of his head. "Some of the others are busy so Lucifer said it was a free-for-all night."

(That usually means everyone orders takeout while Beel eats whatever is left in the house himself.)

Belphie stands up and tucks his pillow under one arm while he wanders over to the stack of bakery boxes near the door. He rifles through the bags until he finds the one he's looking for, and he gestures for Beel to follow him. "I have an idea. Come help me in the kitchen."

It’s peaceful in the deepest corner of the House of Lamentation gardens. Even if the others were home, there’s enough distance from the house to offer peace and privacy—it's nice out there.

Belphie thinks a picnic might be relaxing enough for you to enjoy; the hard part is convincing you to join them. The twins are determined and they both go to your room and insist you have dinner with them.

“You have to eat something,” Beel says in a pleading voice, eyes sorrowful with worry for you. It wasn’t quite enough to convince you to get out of bed, but you swallowed around the lump in your throat as your eyes burned with emotion.

Belphie crawled onto the bed next to you, dangling over the edge precariously while he reached for your hand and laced his fingers with yours. “Please,” he whispered, eyes just as sad as his twin’s, “it feels like I haven’t seen you all week. I miss you.”

You can’t possibly say no to both of them, not when Belphie’s face is so close to yours and his lower lip trembles with too much emotion. You know he can be manipulative, but even in your bleary-eyed daze, you realize he’s being unusually honest now.

You wipe away the stray tears that pool in the corner of your eyes and nod your head. Belphie slides off the mattress so Beel can help you up, and they both hug you before they lead you outside. By the time they take you to the garden, you’re all sniffling quietly, but the twins are smiling a bit now, too.

The blanket Belphie lays across the ground keeps you from getting too cold, and you all share portions of the improvised picnic the twins packed: sandwiches, a thermos of warm soup, a container of diced cheese and poison apple slices. You don’t eat as much as the twins do, but they look content that you finished eating everything on the small plate you made for yourself.

Beel offers you one of your cupcakes next. He brought the whole box—optimistic, Belphie said earlier, raising his eyebrows before shrugging and putting the box into the basket.

You sort of remember Beel knocking on your door earlier and asking you if you wanted one, and you know that you refused. You accept one now because you can’t bear to say no to him twice.

When the food is eaten and the dishes cleared away, Belphie lays back on the blanket and gently nudges you to lay beside him. He rolls onto his side and lays his head on your shoulder, and you can see him looking at you from the corner of your eye.

“Have I told you the story about that star?” he asks quietly, pointing towards the sky.

He probably has, considering how much time you both spend in the planetarium together, but you lean your cheek against his brow. “You can tell me again if you want to.”

He tells you the story about that star, and the other stars near it, and when your eyes start to droop heavily with sleep, he smiles and keeps going. He whispers more stories until your breathing slows and you start snoring gently in his ear; he hopes the stories follow you into your dreams.

Beel sits nearby on the large blanket, watching over both of you with a keen eye and soft smile; his belly is warm and full from a pleasant meal and your company. Belphie carefully maneuvers himself to his knees without waking you, and he stands up and stretches out the kink in his neck. Beel stands and lifts you so gently into his arms, and he cradles you to his chest while Belphie hurriedly packs up the picnic basket and blanket.

The house is dark and quiet when they slip back inside, and Belphie leads Beel to your room. They both tuck you in—Belphie pulls back the covers and Beel lays you down and slips off your shoes. Beel squeezes your hand and waits for his twin by your door; Belphie murmurs a final goodnight as he brushes his lips across your forehead.

The twins head back to their room, and all three of you have the best night's sleep you've had in days.

2K notes · View notes

worksby-d · 5 months

Text

They Can't Take What's Ours

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Summary: You overhear some people talking about your and Andy’s relationship and you don't want Andy seeing that it bothered you, but he's too attentive.

Warnings: Age gap, established relationship, terrible coworkers, hurt/comfort-type vibes, sooo soft.

Word count: ~2,200

a/n: A lovely anon asked if I could write something inspired by Ours - Taylor Swift so this is my take on that <3

Divider by @.saradika

Your hurried steps come to a pause right outside the door to Andy’s office. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath in, but can’t get yourself to let out more than a few shallow ones.

Normally you’d be elated to have an excuse to see him for a few seconds in the middle of the day, but you know as soon as you walk in his face will drop. You can only conceal so much from him. He knows you too well and will see your bad day written all over your face, even if you are somehow able to muster a fake smile real quick.

Walk in, grab what you need, and walk out, you tell yourself.

Someone turning the corner into the hallway you’re stalling in is your final push to finally walk in so no one else passes you and wonders what you’re doing outside his office.

Your eyes are on the ground, but you hear his voice, telling you he’s on the phone. You’re able to let out a discreet breath of relief as you reach for the file you came for and quickly turn to walk back out.

The doorway is within reach when you hear him tell whoever’s on the other end of the call that he needs to put them on hold for just a moment.

“Y/N?”

It’s not like you to be in such a hurry with him. He caught a glimpse of your face and just needs to know you're okay.

Overly conscious of the fact anyone could be in earshot, you answer with, “Yeah, Mr. Barber?”

He knows for certain now that something's off since you didn't just use his first name. There’s zero reason for the formality right now.

You avoid turning back to him, but he’s a step ahead of you, making his way across the room to gently grab you before you can walk out. He swiftly closes the door so there's no chance of anyone seeing you guys.

“Stay, please,” he asks, letting go of you for just a second so he can step back to his desk to pick the phone back up and let them know he has to call them back.

He waves his hand for you to follow him into the meeting room connected to his office for a better sense of privacy.

“What's wrong?”

The concern lacing his voice makes you feel bad, and you know he'll stand here with you all day if he has to to get something out of you.

“I'm fine,” is the best you can offer.

You haven't allowed your eyes to meet his once though. He brings a hand up, using his fingers to gently move your head so you're finally looking at him. Your eyes look puffy and your makeup looks different than it did this morning, like some has been rubbed off.

“Have you been crying?”

“Can we talk about it later, please?”

He pauses. He doesn't want to wait until later. He wants to help make you feel better now.

“I promise I'm fine, I just need to get back to work.”

A small defeated frown tugs at his lips.

“Okay… Later,” he says softly, but it's stern too. He’ll hold you to that.

He leans to give you a quick kiss before walking you out, but you turn your face so his lips land on your cheek.

He holds back from pressing it any longer though, following as you walk out so he can open his door for you.

“Meet me back here later so we can decide where to have dinner tonight?”

“Sure,” you nod, forcing a small smile before leaving.

He’s never ready to leave on time, so you walk into his office quietly when you come back at the end of the day, not wanting to interrupt anything.

“Hey…” You speak softly to get his attention.

He looks up right away, greeting you with a smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

His glance lingers, taking in the sight of you looking better than when he last saw you. Your eyes aren’t swollen anymore and you’re not so tensed up.

“I knew you wouldn’t be ready to go yet,” you laugh a little, closing the door behind you before making your way across the room to sit on his lap.

“You know me so well,” he teases. “I’m almost done, I promise.”

Truthfully, he’s not getting any closer to being done, only pretending to finish up while he waits for you to address the elephant in the room.

When you don’t say anything, he breaks the silence for you.

“It’s later… You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head, letting out a short laugh. “Not really.”

He has a hand resting on your thigh, holding you in place. He strokes his thumb gently telling you he’s ready to listen.

“I overheard some people talking about us today when I walked by one of the breakrooms,” you start.

Finally looking into his eyes, you expect him to start asking questions, but his brows just knit together, waiting for you to go on.

“About how they don’t get us, assuming I’m somehow using you,” you recall. You wish you would have just walked away, but you couldn’t. “And something about you not being able to date anyone closer to your age because no one older than me would put up with your baggage, or whatever.”

“Who?” He asks quietly, but he sounds serious. “I’ll take care of it–”

“No, please,” you beg softly. “That’ll make it worse.”

“I don’t want anyone around here making you cry.”

“I know,” you chuckle, sniffling a little. “But you doing anything would just give them more to talk about.”

The look on his face softens, and he brings a hand up to wipe a few tears that escaped off your cheeks.

“It’s not like we’re all over each other. It just caught me off guard to hear anyone talking about us, I guess. I don’t know why they would be…”

You’re both conscious about keeping your relationship private at work. You’re aware that most people probably know you’re together since you come in together and show up to events together. But most days you go without seeing each other at all until you meet like this to go back home at the end of the day.

“Sounds like they need more work to do if standing around talking about other people in the building fits into their schedules…”

“Andy,” you laugh a little, shaking your head at him. “It’s okay. I don’t know why it bothered me so much.”

He lets it go, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead.

“I know what it’s like to hear people talking behind your back…” He says softly.

Of course he does. Anything you heard is minuscule compared to what he’s probably dealt with before.

He kisses the sympathetic look off your face. “I know what’ll make you feel better though.”

His hand leaves your leg so he can reach into one of his pockets, pulling out your engagement ring. He only proposed a couple days ago and you haven’t worn your ring at work yet, but you ask him to hold onto it for you so it’s not laying at home.

“Can I give this back to you?”

“Yes please,” you giggle, holding out your hand for it.

But he insists on putting it on your finger for you. “Let me.”

You smile at the diamonds glistening back at you, but it quickly fades as you look back up at him.

“I’m sorry I don’t wear it here yet,” you whisper.

“You don’t have to,” he shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

He knows it’s not insecurity about your relationship. Your yes when he asked you to marry him a few days ago came out faster than he could have ever hoped for. It doesn’t cross his mind to question you over leaving it off just these few hours each day. He knows you like to keep things private, that you’ve never been one to overshare at work. It’s a wonder how he somehow broke through your guarded exterior all those months ago and became such a big part of your life.

“I love you.” You kiss his cheek and move to get up. “I’ll let you finish up.”

“No, this can wait,” he says, quickly tidying up his desk, and gets up behind you. “Let’s get out of here.”

Your hand instinctively finds his, intertwining your fingers as you walk out together. You freeze for a split second though. “Oh– We didn’t decide on dinner…”

“I got it figured out,” he assures, giving your hand a squeeze to keep you walking.

The car is quiet as he drives, your exhaustion from the day setting in now that you've gotten away from work. You let your heavy eyelids fall closed, only as a means of resting your eyes, but the way you jump when you feel Andy’s hand on your shoulder, you figure you did accidentally fall into a light sleep.

“We’re here.” He gently shakes your shoulder before getting out of the car so he can walk around to open your door for you.

You kind of knew where he was taking you based on the direction he headed when you left work.

Luckily, he and you share a favorite restaurant. You frequent it as often as you can, the staff always joking that you're keeping them in business each time you walk in the door.

You know something is up when the hostess at the front doesn't walk you to a table though.

“I know where we're going,” Andy winks at her and she just smiles, laughing at the questioning look you flash at each of them.

He swaps which hand he's using to hold yours so his other can rest on your lower back as he guides you to one of the secluded corners. None of the tables are being used except one that’s set nicely with some candles and already has glasses of water and appetizers on it.

“Is this for us?”

Andy laughs at how you do that thing again where you stop in your tracks and he gets tugged back too because he's holding your hand.

“How did you do this?”

“I asked them very nicely and promised a lot of big tips for everyone who helped set it up,” he explains, pulling you closer to wrap his arms around you. “I called shortly after you were in my office earlier. I just wanted a nice evening alone with you.”

“You're crazy,” you whisper against his chest, letting out a small laugh.

“Maybe,” he teases, dropping his hands from your back to grab yours again to bring you to the table.

You pull him into the same side of the booth with you before he can pretend he doesn't want to.

As soon as you're settled, a waiter is greeting you guys, helping move the plate and set of silverware on the other side of the table to the side you're both on.

“Can I get either of you something else to drink?”

“Uh, yes,” you chuckle, definitely in need of alcohol after the day you had.

Andy orders a drink too and expects the waiter to walk away right away, but he looks back to you.

“Could I see your I.D. quick, miss?”

“Oh! Yeah–” You have to dig through your bag to find it.

“You don't wanna see mine?” Andy scoffs, joking with him. “What are you saying, man?”

“I mean, if you wanna show me yours too…” He laughs, holding up his hands as if to say by all means. “But I believe you.”

“Unbelievable–”

You playfully swat at Andy. “Leave him alone.”

Reaching across with your card, you tell the guy to ignore the pity party he's throwing.

He likes to joke about these things, but you can tell he goes through small bouts of seriously realizing he's getting older.

“Don't pout,” you tease, bringing a hand up to his face to physically turn his frown upside down.

“I'm not,” he grumbles quietly.

He pulls you closer and you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling completely relaxed for the first time today.

“You know what bothers me the most, right?” You break the moment of silence by reflecting on why you were so upset today. “I thought about it on the way here.”

“What is it?”

“It's not about people talking about our relationship,” you shake your head. “I know what we have and it's nobody else’s business. But I hate hearing anyone’s negative thoughts like that about you. You're the nicest, kindest guy and it hurts to hear anyone doubt that or doubt that I'm the luckiest person in the world for being with you.”

“I do have baggage though…” He tries to joke.

“But that doesn't matter,” you chuckle. “Everyone does.”

“Don't you worry your pretty little mind about me,” he whispers, turning enough to urge you to lift your head off of him. “I don't care what they say.”

“I love you,” you smile, leaning to give him a kiss.

“I love you, too.”

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber fanfic #andy barber imagine #requested

696 notes · View notes

forlix · 8 months

Text

𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞・l.f.

— felix misses you a little extra tonight; good thing you're way ahead of him.

words・1.7k pairing・idol!felix x gn!reader warnings・brief mentions of the ocean, drowning imagery genres・fluff, angst, established relationship, pining, hurt/comfort, lots of (happy) tears

a/n・i had exo's "been through" on repeat while writing this; pls give it a listen it's beautiful and so underrated and captures the fic perfectly. enjoy <3

When Felix steps into Tokyo's night air, he can still hear the remnants of tonight's concert in the distance, the occasional car horn and the low thrum of conversation floating over the dome of the stadium. But for the most part, it is quiet, and Felix is finally able to think.

He thinks about how he's happiest after performances: leftover adrenaline warming his skin, strobe lights still dancing across his vision, heartbeat still drumming against his ribs like the heavy bass that shook the stage prior. He thinks about how much he loves leaving each venue knowing that, even if only for a few hours, he owned the place; set it utterly ablaze.

But he mostly thinks about you.

From the moment Felix started loving you, his happiness became yours. A bite of brownie fresh out of the oven, met with widened eyes and a delighted mmm; every funny story relayed to you later that night (poorly, because he keeps interrupting himself to laugh); photographs, so many photographs—an especially rotund pigeon he spots on the way to practice, a new pair of earrings that’s way too expensive but looks way too good on him, cute texts from his mom—inevitably making their way into your camera roll.

He can’t help it. He only wants to experience the best parts of the world with you by his side.

So it is in his happiest moments that he feels your absence the strongest. And now, Felix so badly wishes you were here that he physically aches. It feels a bit like his heart is being swallowed by seawater, nothing in any direction for miles, nowhere to go but down.

Only when Chan materializes next to him does Felix manage to steady his feet on the cement once again.

“It’s not here yet?” Chan surveys the lot for their tour bus, to no avail. “Good thing, I guess. Everyone's taking their sweet time.”

The older boy gives Felix a glance thoughtlessly, looks away, and then looks back, his gaze lingering on the side of his face for longer this time, and Felix knows that Chan knows exactly what’s going through his head. For a second, Chan seems like he wants to say something, but Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, takes out his phone.

Not now.

“I think I left something inside,” Chan says instead, though he never leaves anything anywhere. Felix manages an appreciative smile. Without another word, Chan claps a hand to Felix’s shoulder and disappears back into the building, as quickly as he came.

A few seconds pass. Then, as naturally as if by muscle memory, Felix taps on your contact and holds his phone to his ear.

It rings once, twice, thrice—and then he hears your voice, but not in the way he yearns for.

“Hi, you’ve reached Y/N! I’m unable to come to the phone right now, but please leave a message and I'll get back—”

He ends the call, his brow furrowed. You knew he had a concert today. And you should've known to anticipate the call that would come right after, as faithfully as the sun’s rise and fall.

He calls a second time, hoping this was an obstruction of ‘do not disturb’ and nothing more, but is met with the voice message again.

The call of the ocean's depths becomes louder.

As he sits through the automated response, Felix leans against the wall behind him and tilts his head back against the plaster, his gaze moving over the night sky. Then, he hears the beep, and starts to speak.

“Hi, my love. I called, and you didn’t pick up, and I got worried. Is everything alright? Maybe you’re busy, or asleep? Remember to take care of yourself first and foremost—everything else pales in comparison. Everything."

His voice feels far steadier than he feels.

“Ah, I miss you, darling. The concert went super well; the energy was unreal. We have a few hours to explore Tokyo tomorrow before heading to our next stop, and I’m excited as hell, but I wish you could be here more than anything in the world. I haven’t stopped thinking about how much you’ve always wanted to visit this city since we got here—Seungmin even said he'd save his visit to the Pokemon Center for whenever we come back with you. All of us are thinking of you, babe. Me especially. Me hopelessly.

"One day, you and I are gonna travel the world together, responsibilities and schedules be damned, and we'll spend as long as you want wherever you want. As long as I can be next to you. God, I fucking miss you. I said that already, right?”

A short distance away, the building door opens again, and Felix quickly ducks his head out of view, suddenly conscious of his watery eyes and blurring vision.

“I gotta go. I think the members are ready to go back to the hotel. Call me back when you get a chance, okay?”

The next words catch in Felix’s throat, and he has to wince and take a long, shaky breath in order to get them out.

“I love you to the ends of the universe, angel. Share some of your light with the moon tonight, yeah?” He presses a kiss to the receiver. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Bye.”

With that, Felix hangs up, drops his phone into his pocket, and presses both sleeves tightly against his eyes, willing himself to calm down.

No, he thinks, shoulders quivering with the effort, it really never gets easier.

It takes a while for it to strike Felix as odd that it’s still quiet outside; he could’ve sworn that he heard the door open and close, that he should be hearing the tired chatter of his members by now. Apprehensively (obliviously), Felix lifts his face from his hands and turns around.

Chan, so solemn and quiet before, now wears a Cheshire grin that instantly devolves into a breathy laugh when he meets Felix’s eye. Hyunjin stands behind Chan, holding his phone up, evidently filming. Felix’s lips part in confusion, a question forming on the tip of his tongue. There are enough videos of me crying my eyes out on the internet, no?

But then his eyes fall on the person standing in between the two men, their arms piled so high with flower bouquets that their face is almost concealed entirely, and he forgets what he wanted to say; he forgets every language he knows.

“So we were contacted by a fan the other day,” Hyunjin says, beaming. “Kept calling you their boyfriend. Forced us to fly them out to Japan and everything.”

“It'd be real bad if we got the wrong person,” Chan adds, and a stifled laugh comes from behind the petals—one that Felix would recognize in every corner of the world, in every lifetime. “They look familiar?”

The bouquets part, and behind them you appear, cheeks visibly flushed even under the lot’s singular streetlight, smile so bright that it’s turned your eyes to crescent moons.

"Surprise," you say softly.

The empty lot finally erupts into laughter, Chan and Hyunjin no longer able to restrain themselves. Can't believe we pulled this off, they're saying to each other triumphantly, but everyone, everything around Felix vanishes save for the person he adores most in the world, holding more flowers than they should be able to carry, looking at him as if he's made of pure starlight.

And Felix's heart starts kicking upwards, towards the rays of moonlight filtering through the murky water, as fervently as if his life depends on it—and, in this moment, it does.

“Hand 'em over, fool,” Chan says to you. And as you start transferring the heaps of flowers into the leader’s arms, Felix has never moved faster in his life.

In the span of a few seconds, his hand finds the small of your back, and yours the nape of his neck. “Holy fuck,” Felix whispers, and then he’s pulling you against his chest tightly, desperately. There is no word that can describe the way you melt into one another except for destiny, one of your hands curling in his hair and the other running over his shoulder; his face burrowing in the crook of your neck, fingers lacing together against your spine.

His pulse is so loud that he hears it in all directions, in all parts of him. Felix squeezes his eyes shut against the material of your crewneck, his whole body shaking with silent sobs as the overwhelming array of emotions he'd harbored prior finally spills over. And he stops thinking entirely, simply loses himself in all that you are: the smell of your laundry detergent, the sound of your laugh, the feel of your embrace, so secure and warm as if promising him you’ll never let go.

“I love you, Lee Yongbok,” you murmur, the words only for the two of you to hear.

With the sound of his full name, Felix's heart breaks through the ocean's surface at last. Not only that; it performs a triple axel on the shoreline, and it sure as hell doesn’t stick the landing, slipping and sliding and fighting to regain its balance as you continue on.

“Forget the ends of the universe. You are the universe. You are everything that has ever existed and everything that ever will. And I couldn’t bear to be away from my galaxy for a second longer.”

Felix shakes his head from where it remains buried against you, his voice a broken rasp when he answers, “I’m not whole without you, angel. I never will be again.”

“I'm here, baby,” you reply, your hands tightening around his hoodie, among his long locks. “Whether I'm right next to you or on the other side of the world, I'm always with you. And I will be tomorrow, and the day after, and eons from now. That—”

Your lips find the shell of his ear, then his temple.

“—is a promise, my sunlight.”

Chan is standing with bundles of flowers still piled high in his arms, silent tears streaming down his face, and Hyunjin’s expression is contorted into a terribly suppressed weep, his still-recording phone long forgotten in his pocket. They don't have it in them to tell you to get a room. Not right now.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

#felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee felix imagines #lee felix fluff #felix imagines #felix fluff #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #skz fluff #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #felix scenarios #*minific #lee felix angst #*writing #:'''''')#hahahahaha i am so in love

996 notes · View notes

lieutenantfloyd · 2 months

Note

Could you do Beau Cyclone Simpson with wife reader where she surprise him with the news of her pregnancy? Just something fluff and cute. Tag me later! Thanks! :))

Speechless | Cyclone x Reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and anxiety.

Authors note: This request has been living in my head rent free for over a week and has sent me down a rabbit hole of wholesome baby announcement tiktoks lol

Read on AO3

You and Beau have been together for the better part of a decade, and married for over half of that time. Naturally, you've had plenty of conversations about starting a family throughout your relationship. The conversations confirmed that you were on the same page—"Whatever happens, happens." He'd murmured into the crook of your neck after a bit too much liquor—but always had a dreamy, hypothetical air to them. Even now, looking down at the soft linen onesie, "Hi, Daddy!" board book, and paperwork confirming your upcoming eight-week prenatal appointment, things still didn't feel quite real.

You arrange—and rearrange—the items in the gift basket until your house's silence is interrupted by the sound of the front door closing. You glance at the clock on the bedside table and notice it's only six o'clock in the evening. Typically Beau wouldn't be home this early, but you know that today's doctor's appointment followed by your vague updates afterward had inevitably left him worried.

You'd never known your husband to be a man of grand gestures and even less one to make bold declarations of love. Yet you had learned early on in your relationship that he was a man who shined brightest when in the traditional role of a provider. The fine details—from managing your monthly bills and ensuring that there was a fresh bouquet of flowers on your bedside table each week—was one area that he took serious pride in.

Maybe that's why you didn't argue when he scheduled a doctor's appointment for you in the first place. An appointment you had attended simply to silence the alarm bells going off in the mind of your darling—if not overprotective—husband. Though just as luck would have it, a blood test revealed that what you'd chalked up to be a rather strong bout seasonal allergies was actually the symptoms of your first trimester.

Hearing the clank of his keys against the table downstairs, you take a seat on the bed. Your heart rate picks up as he calls out to you. You tell him you'll be right down as you pull the basket into your lap. With a heavy breath, you give it a final look over before gripping the wooden handles and pacing out of the room.

His back is facing you as you enter the kitchen. He perks up at the sound of your footsteps, but you speak before he has the chance to turn around.

"I have a surprise, but I need you to close your eyes." You say, pushing down the butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach.

He hums lowly in response, and you move around him once you see his posture shift as his remaining senses go on high alert. Despite the butterflies, you can't help the smile that breaks out on your face as you place the basket on the kitchen island in front of him.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

His blue eyes flicker open and immediately land on you. You give him a soft, reassuring smile and nod downwards. His gaze follows yours, and you watch closely as he takes in what's in front of him. Even after years together, you can't help but melt as a look of graceful concentration floods his handsome features.

As expected, he bypasses the other items in favor of examining the paperwork. Your heart hammers in your chest as his eyes scan the page. The look on his face shifts into one of loving softness as everything clicks into place in his head.

"You're-"

"-pregnant."

The word barely leaves your mouth before he drops the papers and pulls you into his arms. His strong hands run over the small of your back as he places a kiss atop your head. You stay like this—sheltered in each other's embrace—for several beats. Eventually, he pulls away, though only far enough for you to adjust and see the smile blooming on his face. One of his hands departs your back, only to find purchase against your cheek. Another beat passes before he shakes his head as if in disbelief.

"I don't know what to say..." he voices softly.

"Are you happy?"

"I'm over the moon." He smiles.

Your heart screams at you to kiss him, only for him to be faster. Your lips meet gently, though not an ounce of passion is missing from the kiss. Whatever fear and anxiety that you had still been holding onto vanished in an instant. He pulls away and leans down to place a peck against your shoulder, which he does only when falling deep into thought. You raise a hand and run your fingers through his short cropped hair before inquiring about what’s on his mind.

"A to-do list, along with a list of potential nursery paint colors."

His words make your heart swell, but you can’t pass up the opportunity to press his buttons just a little.

"Can we at least make it through our first official doctor's visit before you start drafting schematics?"

"Preparation is the key to success." He states matter-of-factly, only to earn a sarcastic eye roll from you.

"Hey,” he says while poking at your side, “you knew exactly who I was when you married me."

“Isn’t hindsight is 20/20?” You respond playfully.

A crease forms between his eyebrows as he feigns offense, though it’s only seconds before he joins you in laughter. Watching your face light up, he shakes his head softly before capturing your lips for another kiss.

Taglist: @pear-1206 @marchingicenotes7 @bayisdying @princessofglitterland @bella-law @callsignaries @katesmadness @oliviah-25 @luckyladycreator2 @shakira-sasha @xoxabs88xox @fanboyluvr @alexxavicry @madamemelancholysstuff @paola-carter @barbiewritesstuff @dozcan123 @withakindheartx @nyx2021 @teti-menchon0604 @kmc1989

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun x reader #beau cyclone simpson #cyclone #top gun maverick x reader #beau cyclone simpson x reader #cyclone x reader #topgun #top gun fluff #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick fanfiction

206 notes · View notes

libraryofloveletters · 8 months

Text

Almost Isn't Always

Ruben Dias x Fem!Reader

Warnings: break ups, hidden relationships, one side of the story left untold, erling tries to shield him from the heartbreak, made up stats for a CL game, john is on 'ruben watch', alcohol and the consumption of, drunk texts/calls, drunk ruben, unspoken feelings equals heart break, blame is low-key on ruben, real madrid warning for those who don't like them lmao and a bit of reader x jude.

Word Count: 3.7k

Author's Note: per @themandaloriansdiaries request, she asked me to break her heart last night so here you go, I hope I make all of you upset in the best way possible <3

---

"Look," Erling turns his phone towards the man next to him, John leans over to see what was on the screen; Y/N L/N - Ex-Girlfriend of Man City Player, Ruben Dias, spotted out with another player.

The headline was garage and yet, John found himself taking the phone from Erling to scroll through the article. There are photos of you from your recent vacation, you're cuddled up with a guy but the photos aren't clear enough to make out who the player was, or if it was even a player.

"It's nonsense," John hands the phone back to Erling. "They just broke up, it's barely been six months. I don't think she's moved on already."

Erling locks his phone when he sees Ruben come into the locker room, his eyes shifting to the two of them and the sudden halt into their conversation doesn't go unnoticed by the defender.

"What's nonsense ?" He asks, dropping his towel on his seat as he looks for his shirt.

Erling shook his head, looking away but John didn't have the heart to lie to Ruben. He knew Ruben wouldn't lie to him if he was in that situation; he was always straightforward with people, it's only fair that John returns the gesture.

He takes the phone from the blonde, unlocking it and handing it over to Ruben. The Portuguese player scrolls through the article, pausing on what John can only assume was the photos of you and the other guy. Erling looks at John, who looks between him and Ruben, waiting for their teammate to say something.

"Is it true?" Ruben asks, finally handing the phone back over to John. His friend shrugs, "I don't think so. Y/n wouldn't do that to you."

"But you're not together anymore," Erling blurts, giving Ruben an apologetic look after his words as John glares at him, a look that says are you serious.

Ruben shrugs it off, pulling his shirt over his head. He picks up his bag, "heading out already?" Erling asks him.

"Yeah, training's got me exhausted." He fibs, grabbing his hoodie and his phone. "I'll see you guys later." He waves to his teammates before stepping out. He can hear John asking Erling why he would even say something like that before he turned, walking away from the locker room.

Ruben was pissed; he shouldn't be but he was.

He knew Erling was right, you weren't together and you didn't owe him anything but still, it hurts if it's true.

His knuckles are white from how tightly he's gripping the steering wheel, he doesn't even register the blistering feeling until he pulls into the driveway. His phone was in the cupholder and he couldn't help himself; picking it up and opening Instagram.

Carefully, he types your user into the search bar. He's met with a photo of you smiling on the couch as your profile picture; a picture he took. Ruben had unfollowed you after the breakup, he felt it would be best for him to detach himself from you and focus on his career rather than the heartbreak he was going through.

Nothing's changed since the last time he was on your page; there's the addition of a photo dump from your trip to Spain with your best friend but he goes through the photos, zooming up like Jack had shown him since before, trying to find a glimpse of this mystery man. The likes and comments were useless, there's nothing of importance in there. Just the usual set of people, your best friends, the girlfriends of the man city players, a few of his teammates - by few, it's just Erling and Jack.

A part of him wants to message you, to see how you are, to find out if there's any substance behind the photos he saw but he stops himself.

He knows he can't, that's just creepy. No need to be the stalker ex- boyfriend.

They've won their game the day before and they're off for the next 3 days; Jack's birthday just so happened to be the day after the match they just played, and he figured what's better than a party for his teammates to unwind a bit?

Music was blaring through the speakers, food all over the counters, liquor bottles between; there's a game of beer pong being played on their dining room table.

Ruben found his way to the kitchen, pulling a red solo glass from the stack before filling it halfway with some clear liquor - he wasn't exactly able to read the label at the moment. He poured what he assumed was some kind of juice into the cup before walking- wobbling- his way over to the bench in the hallway and having a seat.

He takes a sip of the contents in the glass, between the sour taste of the cranberry juice and burning of the liquor, his head spun for the millionth time that evening.

The phone buzzed in his pocket, he saw someone had replied to the story he posted for Jack's birthday but he got sidetracked by the thought of you. He holds the cup by the rim between his teeth as he searches for your number.

It's right where he left it.

He hits the message button, the chat opening. It's blank; he deleted everything he had of you - something he often regretted.

So he makes it his mission to fill it back up.

From Ruben: hi

From Ruben: y/nnnnnnn

From Ruben: hi y/n :)))))))))))

From Ruben: its jadks birthday where r u

From Ruben: miss yoou

The three little bubbles pop up in the bottom left corner, Ruben stops typing and waits for your message.

To Ruben: I know it's Jack's birthday.

From Ruben: fid u tell him happy birthdays

To Ruben: I did.

To Ruben: are you okay, rubes?

The nickname warms his heart, the sliver of hope he held felt as if it had purpose now.

From Ruben: yes are you coming to jaclk's party

To Ruben: I'm not.

From Ruben: why mot it's his birthday u should be herre

To Ruben: I'm not home, Ruben.

From Ruben: so coem home

To Ruben: I'm not in the country.

Ruben stares at the text, the anger bubbling up in him again. His fingers moving quickly over the keyboard as he types the next message.

From Ruben: so you're wit hyour new man? hwo could u do that to me? to us

The three bubbles appear in the left corner again but then they disappear, instead your face pops up. You're calling him.

Ruben panics for a second, unsure if he should answer but he does. "Hello?" He says, the phone pressed to his ear and a finger pressed over his other so he can hear you.

"Hi Ruben, are you okay?"

"Yes, why?" He spat, you can hear the anger in his voice. "Your messages are all weird, you're spelling words wrong. Are you drunk?"

"So what if I am? You don't control me, y/n."

"I know that," you tell him, rolling your eyes. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay but clearly you are."

Ruben feels bad, he shouldn't have spoken to you like that. "Wait y/n, I'm-" "I have to go, Ruben." You cut him off, "take care of yourself." Was the last thing you said to him before hanging up.

He's sitting in the hallway, slouched against the wall as he sips on the watered down, sour cup of warm liquor and he can't help but feel sorry for himself. How did he end up here? Ruben had everything; an amazing career, a wonderful girlfriend who loved and supported him through everything. He can't seem to figure out where he went wrong.

Someone appears in front of him and he looks up, squinting as he looks at the man. John sighs, taking the cup from his friend and smelling it.

"Mate," he grimaces at the smell alone. "How many of these did you have?"

"I don't know," Ruben admits to him. John, too, was wondering how Ruben ended up in this situation.

He helps his friend up, holding him by the arm as he walks him down the hall to the guest room. John puts him to sit down, moving the trash can from the bathroom to by the bed. Ruben's eyes were fluttering shut, the liquor finally kicking his ass. John pulls Ruben's shoes off, setting them beside the bed.

John pats Ruben's face, he opens his eyes a bit; "why'd you have to text her?" He asks him and Ruben's brows furrow. "Wh- what?"

"Nothing," John shakes his head, "call for me if you need anything," he says, leaving Ruben to sleep it off.

---

Etihad Stadium; the home of Manchester City and the stadium for today's game.

They were playing a Champions League match against Real Madrid. The boys were hyper focused on winning this game, just as they had done with the previous game.

Ruben was distracted, everyone could see that; everyone but Ruben.

In some ways, he knew this wasn't good for him. Obsessing over you when you've clearly moved on with your life, it's not good for him, it's not good for you.

As he made his way down to the locker room, a glimpse of a woman caught his eye in passing; long hair, the same complexion as you - surely you wouldn't be there. Especially not in a Real Madrid jersey; you always told him white wasn't your colour. Plus, the Madrid players were wearing their away jerseys, which were black.

Ruben convinces himself that he's seeing things, quickly making his way down the stairs and through the hallway to get ready.

"Yeah man, she looks good - happy." Jack says, pulling his socks down a bit. Erling nods, "I thought so too."

"Who looks good?" Ruben asks his teammates, starting to get ready for the game. Jack shares a glance with Erling before the taller blonde speaks.

"Jack saw y/n the other morning."

Ruben freezes; his heart feels as if it's going to jump out of his chest. "You saw.. y/n?" He looks at Jack, the man nods. "Yeah, she was at the bakery, getting coffee with- "

"With who?"

"Her sister," Jack answers quickly, not wanting to tell Ruben who he actually saw you with.

"Does she still overflow her cup with whipped cream?" Ruben smiles to himself at the memory of you.

Jack hums, dropping the topic. The last thing they needed was Ruben falling into a spiral right now.

It was too late, all of the things were adding up in his head, Ruben connected the dots one by one as he got dressed; you had gone to Spain on vacation and then you got spotted with a footballer. You aren't in the country for Jack's birthday and now he thinks he's seen a woman in a Real Madrid jersey, here, today, when they play Real Madrid, who looks like your carbon copy.

"Are you listening?" John nudged his leg when Pep walked in, the man started briefing them before the match. Ruben pushes the thoughts away, trying to focus on what Pep was saying.

It's a short walk to the tunnel, the boys head out into the pitch and Ruben finds himself looking at the away section, wondering if he'd spot you up there.

The match was brutal; Madrid kept them on their toes, as was expected, the entire match. A goal from Kevin at 42' put them up 1-0 over their opponents going into the half. Coming back at 56' was a goal from Jude which equaled the match. Finally, in the 87th minute, Ruben scores and they manage to run out the clock without going into overtime.

Nothing beats this feeling; a win at home was one of the best feelings you could have as a player. They were riding a high so to speak as they walked off the pitch. Most of the guys headed up to see their families that had come to the game and Ruben was going up to say hello to John's kids who had come to see their dad play.

He ended up hanging out John and the kids for a bit, holding the little man on his lap as they chatted.

Across the room he can see Jack with Sasha and the woman he spotted earlier. He's seeing her from the back, her hair covering the name on her back but he could make out the number; 5.

5 belonged to one player, their newest addition; Jude Bellingham.

Ruben felt sick when the woman turned; the smile on her face was one he had grown to love and still does, the same smile he used to wake up to, the same one he dreams about every night.

Your head tipped back, nose scrunched up as you laughed at what Jack said. You smiled at them, turning when you see John's daughter shouting for auntie y/n.

John tried to stop her but it was too late, she came running towards you and you excused yourself from the couple, bending down to hug the little girl. You held her hand as she walked you over to her dad so you could see her little brother.

"He's adorable." You smile at John, your hand on his shoulder as you admire the baby that Ruben held. You avoided your ex boyfriend's gaze, speaking to John and his little girl.

John glances at the baby, "do you want to hold him?"

"Could I?" You smiled, sitting next to John.

The man glances at his friend, John gets up to take the boy from him but Ruben stands, carefully making his way over to you and handing the boy over to you, arms tangled together as he slowly moves his hands away when you hold the baby. "Awh," you cooed, fixing his little Man City jersey. "Don't tell me it says Stones on the back," you glanced at John.

The words come out without him even thinking; "not like it would say Dias," John laughs. You can't help but look in the direction of Ruben, the man was already walking away and over to Erling who was a few feet away.

By the time Ruben looks back over at you, you were cuddled up on the couch with John's children, something that was a norm when you two dated as you would often babysit them. John took a photo of the three of you, you and his daughter giggling over something the baby did.

Ruben was so focused on you that he hadn't noticed the man that's walking towards Erling. "Mate!" He called, his hand stretched out towards his friend. Erling grins, pulling Jude into a hug. "Missed you man! How are you?"

"Good good, I mean, we lost but you know.. how are you?"

"Been good, can't complain." Erling tells him and Jude glances at Ruben. "Hey," he nods at the other man, Ruben looks over at him, nodding back.

Ruben's eyes follow Jude's steps over to you, the man standing behind the couch before he leans down to kiss your head. You lean back, smiling at him before he reaches over and rubs the baby's hand, the man walking around to say hello to John; he always forgets they know each other. John looks over in the direction of his friend, you can't help but look as well.

He was already walking away; the same nauseous feeling that you got when you left him resurfaced and all you wanted to do was leave, leave as fast as you could.

You stand up, carefully passing the baby back to John, giving him a quick hug before saying goodbye to his daughter. You and Jude were off for the evening, you stopped for him to say hello to a few of his teammates from the national team; all of them asking when you're coming back for a visit and you promised them soon before you two finally managed to leave.

---

The smell of baked goods and coffee welcomed you, the door of the bakery shut behind you. It was fairly empty, a few people scattered through the place as you stood in line, waiting to order.

After you order, you move to the side to wait. Your phone buzzes, it's your boyfriend.

From Jude: will you get the chocolate cookie I like?

To Jude: ordered 4 of them, that's enough?

From Jude: don't tell coach if I eat all three.

You smile, slipping your phone back into your pocket before the bell on the door chimes. You glance over your shoulder to see the one person you had been trying to avoid since you came home.

Ruben's eyes meet yours and you look away. The two of you end up standing beside each other after he orders, the awkward tension building by the second and you can't take it anymore.

Your eyes are fixed on the floor, waiting until the woman calls your number and passes the bag over to you. You can't get out of there fast enough but you stopped just outside the door to fix your coat.

Before you can walk off, someone calls for you; the same someone you tried so hard to forget.

Ruben stood across from you when you turned around, the two of you looking at each other. You sigh, unsure why you even stopped but you didn't have the heart to walk away from him.

You did it once and it almost killed you. You can't do it again, not so soon at least.

"Why didn't you tell me you were home?" He asks. Him referring to Manchester as your home angered you. It was your home but he had no right to say it like that, like he was your home.

You bite back the urge to roll your eyes, "I didn't know I needed to update you on my whereabouts."

"You don't," he says, "but we're friends, aren't we, y/n?"

You scoff, shrugging. "I don't know, Ruben."

The silence falls over the two of you again. It was late, the streets were fairly empty except for the occasional car passing by. Ruben stood that, as if he was thinking what to say next.

Just as you go to turn, he speaks; "Why Jude?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why'd you choose him?"

You cannot believe the audacity of this man. After everything, he still felt like he could question your choices. You sighed, rolling your eyes this time. "I don't need to explain my choices to you, Ruben."

He repeats himself, "you don't, but I'm curious."

"If you're so curious," you start, shoving your hands into your pockets, the handle of the bag loops around your wrist. "Jude's good to me. He makes time for me, he loves me, Ruben. He never makes me feel like I'm a burden to him."

"You say that as if I made you feel like you were a burden, y/n."

"You did, Rubes." You tell him, the nickname that once held love now tied the harsh sentence up with a bow. "I understand that you had just moved to the team and you wanted to focus on that and your career but you neglected me. When I did ask you for some time, which was very rare because I knew you were busy, you made it feel like spending time with your girlfriend, with me, was a chore; a burden."

Ruben stood there, unsure what to say as he listened to you tear into him.

"It wasn't fair for me to stay somewhere where I knew I wasn't going to be valued the way I should. I'm not saying you didn't love me, Ruben, but you and I both know there were a lot of things wrong with our relationship. You never loved me the way I loved you."

You looked at the man, you could see the sadness across his expression and as much as it broke your heart to see him like that, he deserved to know how you felt.

"Jude never does that to me, Ruben. He treats me with respect and he loves me, I know he does. It's obvious, I don't have to read between the lines like I did with you."

It felt like a weight was off your shoulders now that you finally told him how you felt. For a long time after your break up, you held a resentment towards him and you finally let go.

It felt good to be free of that, of him.

"I didn't-" he starts but you stop him, "I have to go." You move your hands from your pocket to hold the bag properly, "the pastries are getting cold."

"Okay," was all he said before you turned and walked the other way.

When you arrived back at the hotel, Jude was in the shower. The bathroom door left slightly ajar, you could hear his humming over the running shower and you smiled to yourself.

You hang your coat over the back of the chair, next plugging your phone to charge before unpacking the boxes from the bag.

"I didn't hear you come in," Jude says, stepping out of the bathroom. Your boyfriend presses a kiss to your cheek, reaching around you to snag a chocolate cookie from the box.

You smile, "you were in the shower, I figured you would be done soon and I was right." The man nods, sitting on the couch with the towel around his waist, eating his cookie. You pick out a donut, taking a bite before closing the box. You were about to join Jude on the couch when your phone buzzed.

Reaching over, you pick it up to see who it was.

From Ruben: I'm sorry, y/n.

From Ruben: I really am.

"Who is it babe?" Jude leaned back on the couch, looking at you. You set the phone down, walking over to him. "Jack. He said Sasha wanted to have lunch before we head home."

"It'd be nice," Jude smiles at you, his arm around your shoulders when you sit next to him. "Tell him yeah then."

"I will," you nod, "later."

---

taglist: @thesnailus @alwaysclassyeagle @lettersfromvenus @mehrmonga @callsignvenus @kmc1989 @valentinehrts @pulpfixion @ironmaiden1313 @candacels

add yourself to the football taglist!

#ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias fic #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football imagine #football fanfic #football fic #football one shot #football angst #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine

736 notes · View notes

reverie-starlight · 4 months

Text

it's about time I wrote something for owl head. @luvring I blame you for launching me right back into my bokuto era. not sure how I feel about my characterization of him yet, but it's a work in progress. considering it's my first time writing him, I don't think it's too horrible!!

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. established relationship, fluff fluff fluff, he is such a baby omg. I just want to see him happy, he's so sunshiney and warm. slight, miniscule, microscopic suggestiveness in one part.

early mornings can get a bit hectic when your boyfriend spends the night.

they used to be worse, you will admit, but even if you've both established somewhat of a morning routine, actually putting the plan into motion always proves to be a difficult task.

hopefully things settle after he moves in, you think.

you take a few moments to bask in the early morning silence that follows the swift movements of shutting off of your alarm (it's far too cold out for birds to chirp outside your window, and your apartment's not too close to any busy streets) and admire the sweet man beside you. ever the deep sleeper, bokuto's snores pop you out of your bubble.

you check the time again and feel your face form an expression of pure disdain when it registers that you have less time to get ready than usual. you turn to the side.

he's facing away from you- an oddity, considering he usually has one hand on you at all times- broad back on display, expanding and deflating with every breath he takes.

it almost feels wrong to disrupt him, but you know he has to get up for practice soon anyway, so you attempt a softer wake up method.

you put out your hand and trace patterns over his skin. it's warm and soft and makes you want to cuddle up melt into him for the rest of time. knowing him, he wouldn't mind that one bit.

he barely stirs at the feeling of your fingertips, so you do get closer this time and press light kisses against his shoulder blade.

the back of his bicep.

the centre of his back.

a few along his spine.

the spot just behind his heart.

you watch as goosebumps follow your trail of kisses and smile as he shuffles and finally turns to face you.

"good morning, baby..." he yawns and gives you a sleepy, closed-eye smile.

it breaks your heart that you're going to have to cut this moment short, but it has to be done. you're already cutting it too close for comfort (last night's activities had forced you to set a later alarm). any longer in bed and you'd both be late for work.

you card a hand through his hair and match his expression. "good morning, koutarou. it's time to get up." you keep your voice low and sweet, hoping to keep him sleepy enough to just go along with whatever you say.

but it seems that fate is not on your side this morning.

he opens one eye just a crack and begins to nod before freezing and promptly burying his face into your chest. he wraps his arms around your torso, making you you groan a little. "I need to make up for not holding you while I was sleeping."

while the sentiment is sweet, you would think that him getting ready to move in with you would make up for it. but apparently not even the prospect of spending every night from now on in your arms is enough to satisfy him.

"ko, please," you huff and try to pry his arm off. you really don't want to be late for work. things have been picking up lately and you definitely don't want to be chewed out by your boss for poor time management.

but bokuto does not waver. he may be a big baby sometimes, and he may do everything in his power to make you happy, but he is also incredibly determined and annoyingly stubborn.

especially when it comes to sleep.

so he just holds you tighter, mumbling out little apologies for not keeping you warm during the night. you giggle at that, because you are nothing if not warm whenever he's around. his presence is akin to summer's sunshine- so genial and bright that you can feel his love even without the physical gestures he always insists upon.

you stroke his back and just as you're about to give in to him, a small, smug smile appears on his face.

"bokuto koutarou!" you gasp "you know exactly what you're doing, don't you?"

he laughs into your chest and you can feel it reverberate throughout your body. "just stay with me a bit longer, when was the last time you took a sick day, anyway?"

his voice is littered with drowsiness and it only makes you want to give into him even more.

how is it that you've always seen yourself as the clingy one in the relationship? the thought makes you laugh a bit and he looks up at you hopefully.

but sadly, one of you needs to have some self discipline, so you cup his face in your hands and squish his cheeks together. "nice try, lover boy, but you promised me you'd get up on time."

he pouts and you try not to crack a smile at how funny it looks with a squished face. "but baby-"

"nope! you brought this on yourself, ko. besides," you do let your smile break through this time. "you're the one who insisted on setting a later alarm." you poke his nose to punctuate your sentence.

"you're the one who insisted we'd have more than enough time to get ready." poke.

"and you're the one who kept begging to go round after round despite me telling you this would happen," poke.

you squeal a bit when he suddenly gets up to hover over you, a mischievous, almost predatory look in his eyes that can only mean no good. “sorry- who was the one begging, baby?”

he digs his fingers into your side, causing you to giggle and squirm underneath him. his other arm holds him up and cages you in just enough that you're unable to roll away to safety.

the thing with bokuto is that he can be incredibly playful and child-like, yes; but like most people on earth, he also has moments that remind you he's much more dynamic than the endearing traits he most often presents.

you'd consider yourself lucky to be one of the few to see every side of him, but as you lay underneath him with a giddy feeling in your stomach from how handsome he looks while tormenting you, you only feel your self-discipline melting away.

he might be rebranding himself as an "ordinary" ace now (much to the surprise of everyone who knew him in high school), but you've been convinced for years that there's nothing ordinary about him at all. his determination, skill and unconditional love for you proved your theory every day.

fine, maybe one "sick" day wouldn't hurt.

"okay, okay!" you gasp out through your laughter. "we can stay in bed if you stop tickling me!"

his smile is positively blinding as he retracts his hand from your side and flops back on top of you. "thank you, babe. can I tell you a secret?"

you raise an eyebrow and he takes that as signal to continue. he "lowers" his voice to a whisper-yell and says "I don't actually have practice today."

you blink at him. "ko, what?"

he lets out an excited laugh. "I tricked you. I came up with this whole plan to keep you home with me today and it worked."

the unmistakable pride in his voice washes away any annoyance building up within you and opens you up to hearing him out. "explain."

"you've been working so much lately, I can see how much it's wearing you out," he rolls onto his side to face you better and cup your face with one hand. "and last night practice got cancelled super suddenly 'cause coach got sick or something. so I decided we should both have the day off since we both work super hard. also... I didn't want to be lonely," he mumbles at the end.

you snort at his honesty and shake your head in appreciation. that's why he was being so insistent? how did you manage to land someone as unabashedly sweet and caring as him? you started the day worrying about being late, and now work is the last thing on your mind. you grab your phone off the night stand and quickly leave your boss a message, letting her know you won't be coming in because of some sudden illness.

bokuto watches you closely and allows you to cuddle into him with a smile after setting the device back down. "so... does this mean my master plan worked?"

you nodded into his bare chest and let the stress you've been storing for weeks release alongside a deep sigh. "can't leave my sweet boy feeling lonely, now can I?"

you say it as a joke, but you hope he hears the appreciation in your voice... that he can feel how thankful you are for him looking out for you.

it all remains unsaid for a while longer, but you know he understands the underlying message when he kisses your forehead and prompts you to get more sleep.

BONUS:

you wake up again a couple hours later to a strange burning smell.

you're up immediately, not registering the fact that your boyfriend is not beside you anymore until you stumble into the kitchen and see him standing at the stove, stirring away.

the domestic view makes you excited for all of your mornings going forward looking like this, but you also make a mental note to buy a new set of pans before that happens.

he must feel you watching him, because he turns to greet you with a wide grin. "mornin', baby!"

"morning..." you make your way to the table and take a seat where there's already a glass of water. "are you making breakfast?" you try to keep your nerves out of your voice. he's not the worst cook in the world, and he's definitely improved since meeting you, but... he's still working on lunch recipes. he hasn't graduated to complicated breakfast foods yet.

he nods excitedly. "yup! I already had some cereal, though. I was gonna surprise you with breakfast in bed, but since you're up we can sit at the table." bokuto turns the stove off and scrapes... whatever it is evenly onto a plate. "it's a bit burnt, but it should still be good!"

he sets it down in front of you and the burning smell only gets stronger. you can see now that he had attempted pancakes. you smile up at him thankfully, but you wonder how you're going to get the round discs down without creating an unnatural chemical reaction within your stomach.

"I know it's been a while since we've had a proper breakfast together like this, and you mentioned a while ago that you've been craving pancakes, so I thought today would be the perfect day for that."

you can almost feel your pupils dilate when he says that. your heart beats faster and you feel warm all over (again). he remembered something like that? you don't even remember saying it, which leads you to believe that he's been storing it in his mind for a while now.

you scarf down the pancakes.

they're not good by any means, but you know they were made with love and that makes them the best damn pancakes you've ever tasted. you'd rather endure a the worst stomach ache imaginable than make this man sad.

his eyes widen. "woah! you must've been really hungry, do you want me to make you more? as many as you want, just give me a number!"

you tear up a bit, from affection for him or a reaction to the pancakes, you're not sure. "no, baby, these were perfect. do you want some coffee?"

he nods his head. "I wouldn't mind one if you're offering."

you kiss his cheek and move over to the coffee machine, still overflowing with love, but the taste of the charred breakfast lingers on your tongue. as you're grabbing a mug, you casually ask "hey baby? would you ever want to take a cooking class with me?"

I lowkey hate how it turned out, but not enough to keep it in the drafts. hope you enjoyed!!

#bokuto x reader #bokuto x reader fluff #bokuto fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader #bokuto x gn reader #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader fluff #haikyuu x gender neutral reader

320 notes · View notes

psychedelic-ink · 6 months

Text

𝐒𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐡 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 4.2k

chapter summary: Summer break is finally here, meaning it's time to pick the annual vacation spot for the Miller's, only this time you also have a say in where to go. Later that night Joel makes you a promise.

warnings: none, just some fluff and family dynamics, mention of parent abandonment (sarah's mom leaving), mention of an unplanned pregnancy (again, sarah's mom)

a/n: yes there is a modern family reference in this. a heavy one at that because that show has been engraved in my brain from rewatching it over and over this year

special thanks to @undercoverpena for cheering me on and to all the lovely readers who continue on joining in for the ride. ily all xx

Chapter Twelve || Chapter Fourteen

“I don’t understand. Sarah never in her life hurt anythin’. She hates it when I watch action movies and always calls me a caveman for it. How the hell is she gettin’ into a fight with some girl?”

He’s spiraling. That’s the easiest way to put it. His body is humming with worry, the light in the school hall burning his eyes. Sarah, his perfect little girl getting into trouble—

Surely it was self-defense.

He paces back and forth, then angrily looks at the door. Why is this taking so long? Why isn’t he already in there, learning what the hell happened?

“Take a breath, Joel.”

His head snaps towards the source of the voice, his heart easing a bit but not entirely calmed down yet. You offer him a kind smile, patting the seat next to you for him to join you. Joel shakes his head almost violently. “I can’t,” he sighs. “I need to know what the hell happened. I need to know if she’s alright.”

“She’s in class, she’s alright,” you swiftly get up from your sweet and cradle his cheeks. He wants to look away. He’s still not used to being this vulnerable, this open. “I need you to calm down before we go in, okay? Don’t go on wreaking havoc without us learning what happened.”

Joel grimaces, his brows furrowing, he holds your wrists and tugs your hands down. He sees a moment of hurt reflected in your eyes but is quick to appease those worries by pressing his lips against your cheek. He’s glad you’re here. Truly. But he’s also worried about Sarah. She might be in class, however, that doesn’t mean that she was hurt in some other way. He lets out another breath and looks at the door. If looks could kill the wooden furniture would be dead by now.

He’s in the middle of leaning in for a proper kiss when the door finally opens. Both of them jolt, turning towards the interruption. Joel recognizes the woman on the other side. She has straight black hair that’s in a neat ponytail and thick glasses perched above her nose. Joel remembers her vaguely from Sarah talking about school... Ms. Pritchett, if he's not mistaken. He doesn't remember her first name. She’s young, maybe closer to your age rather than his. He gives the teacher a pointed look, to which she answers with a kind smile.

“Mr Miller, welcome,” her gaze shifts to you “And…”

You quickly offer her your name, flustered, as much as Joel can tell. He's a bit ashamed to admit it but at that point, he doesn't really care to figure out why you're suddenly tripping over your words. Joel turns to the teacher, his shoulders squared and tense. “You called about Sarah gettin' in a fight?”

“Ah, yes. Please, come in.”

He feels the brush of your fingers against the small of his back, a soothing touch and a quick one at that. He wishes your touch would linger, that your body would drape over his like a soothing velvety blanket. Sadly, he can't have that. At least, not now. You sit across from him and Ms Pritchett takes her seat behind the large wooden desk. Joel appreciates the craftsmanship of it. The way the wood feels smooth and new under his touch, polished to perfection, reminding him of something Tommy would make in his spare time. His eyes then linger on the nameplate right in front of him, Lily Pritchett. Now he knows the name of Sarah's teacher.

Miss Pritchett laces her fingers on top of the desk, her sharp eyes fixed on Joel’s. He suddenly feels very exposed. Like this woman can see every mistake he’s made since the day he was born. Her smile isn’t soothing. Nor is the slight tilt of her head to make her seem whatever she’s about to say isn’t a big deal. But it is. He knows it is. He’s a single dad, no mom in the picture to help him out, and day by day those shortcomings are becoming more prominent in their lives.

“Has Sarah told you about why she’s been having trouble at school?”

The question is like a knife to the gut. It’s being twisted and pressed in deeper. He can feel your gaze on him but he refuses to look back. His heart skips a beat, then another. Why the fuck is he having trouble breathing?

“Her grades are high,” he manages to choke out between gritted teeth. “I ain’t aware of any trouble she’s been havin’.”

“I’m not talking about grades Mr. Miller. In that aspect, she’s excelling. But she seems to be having trouble fitting in—”

“She has friends.”

Miss Pritchett smiles again, albeit it looks more forced this time. As if Joel is working her last nerve, “She does. But those girls are in a grade higher.” she sighs and twirls her thumbs over one another. “I had a similar problem when I was her age. The thing is yesterday the girls were getting ready for gym class and started teasing each other by snapping each other’s bra straps.” Joel’s mouth goes dry. He’s definitely out of his element. He holds his breath and waits for the teacher to continue, he feels your hand on the slope of his knee. “But Sarah didn’t have one and the other girls started teasing her.”

“Why the hell are you talkin’ to us then?” Joel glowers and Miss Pritchett's mouth snaps shut. “Seems to me that my girl is the victim. Where are the parents of the others?”

“Mr. Miller. . .”

“No. I ain’t lettin’ her take the blame that was clearly some other kid’s fault!” his voice raises, his blood pumping faster, warmer. “You here blamin’ Sarah when she was clearly gettin’ bullied under your watch—”

“Sarah tackled one of the girls.”

Now it’s Joel’s turn to snap his mouth shut. Miss Pritchett's gaze turns sympathetic and you stiffen next to him, your fingers tightening around his knee. He shuffles in his seat and raises a brow, “Pardon?”

“Some words were exchanged about Sarah’s mother abandoning her and Sarah tackled the other student to the ground. Things didn’t escalate—When Miss Crest came in Sarah was just holding her down.”

“What did they say?” he growls, anger simmering right under the skin.

He hates feeling like this. So out of control. Hates that her daughter is being targeted for something that was out of his and her’s control.

“Her mother left us when she was young. A goddamn baby. Are you meanin’ to tell me that these kids are so undisciplined that they’ve been bullyin’ my girl for somethin’ that ain’t her fault?”

“The girl who said it, Kimberly,” Miss Pritchett sighs softly when Joel fixes her another glare. A warning that she’s seen too many times from overprotective parents. “She apologized later on and the two have been talking a bit in class.”

“I don’t care if she apologized—”

“Joel. . .” He finally turns to look at you. You say his name not as a warning, but more as an anchor grounding him to the moment. He’s breathing heavily. His body wrung out and ready to collapse. He takes a deep breath. In and out. He allows you to say what you want to say, what he’s too stuck in his own head to ask. Your gaze shifts from him to Miss Pritchett. “What should we do?”

“Try to talk to her. If her mother left when she was young, like you said,” she gestures towards Joel. “She might’ve not fully registered what happened. Or what it means to not have a mother and only now she might be realizing it. As for the other situation, it might be good to get her a training bra for now.”

A training bra, what does that even mean? It’s like he’s drowning, everyone saying things he just can’t understand.

“The girls reconciled but I just wanted to get a chance to talk to you, Mr. Miller, before summer break starts.”

God, they still have to pick out the annual vacation spot, “I appreciate it,” he mutters, not really looking at anyone in particular. He gets up from his seat and so do you and Miss Pritchett. She extends a hand and he takes it.

“Feel free to call if you have any other questions,” she says. “Sarah is a good girl and has a bright future. This is just a little bump in the road.”

And for the first time since he entered the office, Joel smiles. She does have a bright future. She’s the most amazing girl she knows.

“Thank you.”

The sky is crystal clear not a cloud in the sky. Joel hates it. And not just because he’s in a sour mood but because there’s nothing he can stare at in the sky. Nothing to distract him. They’re waiting for the final bell to ring so they can get Sarah and go home together. Tommy is supposed to pick them up.

“You have to calm down,” you say, walking up to him enough to leave a friendly distance in between. Joel is tired of keeping you a secret. He wants to feel the softness of your body against his own, want to feel your breath on his skin as you speak. “I can go with her and get her a training bra. But you need to be the one to talk to her.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You think I don’t know that?”

“I. . .I know you do. But let’s be honest you’re not exactly the most talkative. We’ve been together for a while and been living side by side for even longer—I still have no clue about Sarah’s mother or what her name is.”

“Her name is Jessica,” he deadpans. Then with a sigh, he drags his palm down his face. “It’s hard for me. I don’t really have answers, sweetheart. She just up and left one day. She must’ve planned it because it was right after when we switched to formula.”

“Did Sarah ever ask about her before?”

“Once. When she was little.”

“And?”

His cheeks burn with frustration and he stammers of his words, “I don’t know. I don’t remember, she was really young so I think I made up somethin’ about her having a job far away or somethin’.”

Joel groans and looks up to the sky. He watches the blank blue sky. How fucking boring.

Your touch on his cheek brings him back down, your smile a balm to his soul, “Just talk to her. Ask her if she has any questions and be honest. She’s a smart girl. I’m certain she’ll understand that you’ve been hurting too.”

Joel leans into the curve of your palm. A grateful smile tugs at the corner of his lips. You’re too good for him. That much he knows. You’re everything.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” his heart melts between the bones of his ribcage. “I lo—”

The sudden sound of the bell makes you both jerk away from one another. Joel’s eyes land on your face, you look horrified and panting with parted lips. He can’t help the burst of laughter that drops from his mouth as he places a hand on the top of your head.

“So jumpy,” he mutters, and as he does his eyes catch sight of a bubbly girl with beautiful brown curls. “And there’s Sarah.”

He might be imagining it but Joel swears you frown when he removes his hand from your head. Before Sarah comes over, he gives you a quick pinch on your waist and your smile is back.

“Hey there baby girl,” he says. “How was school?”

Sarah’s eyes flit between you and himself, “It was fine. . . Am I in trouble?”

“Not at all.” Sarah looks skeptical but accepts his father’s words for now. Just as she opens her mouth, a loud familiar honk interrupts. The three of them turn towards the song along with a couple of children and families.

“Whoops.” Joel can vaguely hear Tommy say as he jumps out of the truck. He makes his way towards them with quick steps, only slowing when his gaze lands on you. Joel hates the way his chest puffs up like a rooster at that. He doesn’t like the sudden kicked-puppy look Tommy is giving you. As if you’ve betrayed him in any way. . . He runs a hurried hand over his jaw. If anything all of this is Joel’s fault and not yours. He refuses to let anyone think otherwise.

“I thought the teacher called you?” Tommy asks, gesturing with his head to Joel. His gaze swiftly moves back to you. “What are you doin’ here, sweetheart?”

The endearment rolls off his tongue a bit too rough, which rubs Joel the wrong way. Joel watches you shift from one foot to the other, looking like a deer in headlights. “I asked her to come,” he steps up. “I was worried.”

Tommy’s eyes soften and Joel’s heart threatens to shatter. He knows his brother cares about him. It hurts especially when he shows his emotions so easily, the complete opposite of Joel, he’s like an open book.

The younger Miller holds Sarah’s shoulder and pulls her close, “You a’right? Anyone givin’ you trouble?”

“No, Uncle Tommy. It was more like I was the one causing trouble.”

All of them start towards the truck and as they do Joel doesn’t miss the way Tommy’s eyes light up at what she said.

“The perfect student finally getting her hands dirty? Now I’d pay good money to see that—”

“Tommy.”

“But I wouldn’t obviously,” Tommy clarifies, ignoring Joel’s warning. He leans into Sarah’s ear. “Did you get them good, baby?”

Sarah smiles and Joel realizes he would let her get away with murder if he must.

“I did.”

“That’s my girl.”

You and Sarah sit in the back while Joel sits in the passenger seat and Tommy gets behind the wheel. An uncomfortable silence surrounds them. The car starts moving and Joel turns a bit, looking between both you and Sarah. You’re looking out the window, your forehead smushed against the glass and Sarah is pretty much doing the same thing excluding the smushed forehead part. He sighs and turns back. Tommy is also tense which Joel can tell by the way he holds the wheel. He can’t really blame him. If you coming along with Joel wasn’t a tell of some sort he doesn’t know what is.

“So,” Joel says loudly, cutting the silence in two. “We might as well plan the family trip while we’re drivin’ back home.”

“Italy.” Sarah piques.

“Every god damn year—no Sarah we’re not goin’ to Italy. But we will one day. Promise.”

“Then I’m out of suggestions.”

“What about you?” Joel asks, addressing you. For a second you look unsure, and he notices your eyes finding Tommy’s through the rear window mirror. “With how often we see each other you might as well come with us on vacation. It’s only for a week.”

“Are you sure?”

Your voice comes out tiny, insecure. He hates it.

“‘Course I am.”

Tommy jumps in before you can respond, "How about Lake Buchanan? You know, where we used to take Sarah when she was little. There's a resort there now, called Canyon of the Eagles or something."

Joel raises an eyebrow, considering the suggestion. "Not a bad idea, Tommy. What do you think?" he asks, stealing a glance at you through the mirror.

A small, genuine smile forms on your face. "Sounds perfect. I'm in."

"Great," Joel grins. "Lake Buchanan it is."

Sarah, who had been lost in thought, perks up at the mention of the destination. "Lake Buchanan?"

"Yep, that's the place.” a fond smile playis on his lips. “Remember the stargazing?"

"Not really,” Sarah scrunches her face in concentration. “But it might be fun."

"It's gonna be a blast."

Joel shares a glance with you, both of you secretly reveling in the joy that Sarah's excitement brings.

He has no idea how long he’s been staring, but he knows it’s been for a while now.

Sarah walked up to her room pretty quickly when they arrived home, Joel wasn’t happy about the way she practically ran away from having a discussion, however he also figured he learned from the best—which was himself.

He takes a deep inhale, feels the way his chest expands, and exhales all of it from his lungs. He can do this. He can talk.

Joel knocks three times with his heart in his throat. He never felt more relieved in his life when he heard the faint permission to enter the room.

“Hey there, kiddo,” he says, leaving the door open. “I think we might have some things we need to discuss.”

“Is this about Kimberly?” Sarah sighs and closes the book she was reading. She sits up on her bed, pulling her skinny knees up to her chest, she stares at her dad. “I’ve already delt with that. We’re fine. And I’ll never do it ever again,” she raises her hand as if she was pledging herself to the American flag. “Promise.”

“You know that’s not why I’m here. There’s more we need to talk about and you know it.”

“I know you don’t like talking about her, dad,” she sighs. “I’m sorry I tackled Kimberly. She just got on my nerves. I don’t even know where it came from.”

Joel decides not to tell her that she did good tackling her classmate and that he’s proud. No one gets to bully his daughter, and he’s glad she knows how to defend herself. But it’s probably a good thing he doesn’t encourage it.

“I don’t mind talkin’ about it,” he says instead. “What do you wanna know?”

Sarah blinks, “Why’d she leave?”

The second time today Joel is indescribably gutted. It was a question he didn’t know the answer quite himself. He hated calling Sarah an accident—but if he had to keep it blunt that was what it was. They were young when they got married, and eager to be with one another. Joel still remembers the night. The creaking of his old truck as rain fell upon them. At the time he would’ve called it romantic. Jessica had just left work, Joel was waiting for her right in the parking lot. He didn’t want her to get soaked under the rain. She was upset at something that happened at work and searched for relief in his mouth. He remembers the way her curls tickled his face, how eager she was to mark his neck—

That was the first time he came inside her. She said she would take a pill the next day. Three weeks later they were pregnant. Joel, despite their crippling finances, was excited. A baby—what else could he have wanted? Sure he had to make some adjustments to his career but that didn’t matter to him.

Jessica left as soon as Sarah didn’t need to breastfeed anymore. She didn’t even leave a note. Her family was out of state and technology wasn’t as savvy as it was now. He couldn’t track her down. He’s also ashamed to admit he didn’t really try. He was hurt. Heartbroken. He thought they had something special, that having Sarah was both of their dreams.

But apparently, it was only his.

All he can feel is pain as he takes a seat next to Sarah on the bed. He wants to console her, tell her some solid truth that would ease her pain. But he can think of none.

“I don’t know, baby,” he says barely above a whisper. “She didn’t leave a note when she left and I could never track her down.” Sarah’s eyes shine with coming tears. He can’t handle it anymore, he pulls her to his chest, hugs her tight. “I’m sorry baby girl. None of this is your fault. I—I wish I could be better. I know I have shortcomings but I’m gettin’ there promise. And. . . And if you want we can. . .” A knot forms in his throat. He can barely speak. “We can track her down. Ask her for the truth. Because I swear sweetheart I don’t know. Maybe I did something to run her off,” Sarah stiffens under his hold but he continues. A faint sniffling reaches his ears. “I was workin’ day and night at the time. Tryin’ to get the business goin’. It’s possible I wasn’t attentive as much as I wanted to be—I might’ve—”

“Dad.” Sarah’s voice comes out harsh as she peels herself away from Joel’s embrace. He sees the fire in her eyes but also the pain, her sweet cheeks wet. Her brows are furrowed much like his and he can’t help but think it’s the cutest thing. “Her leaving isn’t your fault,” she then says, taking him by surprise. “I don’t know what you did—or if you did anything— but she lost all credibility when she just got up and left. Both. . . both of you were dealing with something huge. That burden can’t just be yours.”

Joel blinks rapidly. His eyes sting when he does, he takes a sharp inhale and refuses to wipe his eyes. He’s not crying. He’s not emotional. It’s just the remains of the damn perfume Sarah likes to spray so much of.

“And sure, we might have some problems, but that happens in every family. I love what we have. You’re the best dad a girl can ask for.”

“You think so?” Joel chokes out. Sarah quickly nods, her own eyes suddenly wetter than before. With a smile, he shakes his head and pulls her in for another embrace. “For what it’s worth you’re the best daughter a dad could ask for,” he murmurs. “And I ain’t mad at you for tacklin’ that Kimberly girl. She deserved it.”

Sarah’s laugh comes out muffled, “Dad. . . you’re not supposed to say that.”

“I don’t care.”

They hold on to each other with no urgency of breaking apart. He doesn’t care about the others. About the other families and their children. All he cares about is his daughter’s wellbeing. His own family that he built from jack squat.

The rest of the world can eat shit for all he cares. As long as his little girl is safe, his brother doing alright and you in his life, he doesn’t care about the Kimberlys of the world.

“So everything went alright with Sarah?”

Settling beside Joel, a bowl of popcorn rests comfortably on your lap. The DVD menu is on, faint music of the movie he popped in echoing from the speakers. You were a bit hesitant to come over after today. And you were surprised to hear that Sarah went out to stay with her friends. You’d expected the two to have a long talk, maybe even share a pint of ice cream. But Sarah was Joel’s daughter after all, just like his father she probably cut it short, told her how she felt and they both moved on.

You can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. However, as long as they’re both happy you don’t care all that much about how they get there.

“It went fine,” Joel responds, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Just like you said, I was honest and she understood. I’m tryin’ to figure out where to go from here. I think there are a bunch of old pictures in the garage, including Jessica and Sarah as a baby. I don’t know if she would wanna see those though.”

“Yeah. . .” Your eyes shift to the screen, sadly, you don’t really have an answer to that. It’s not like Sarah thinks of her mother fondly and would want to see pictures. Your brain and heart are both worn out from everything that happened today. Both organs scrambled and twisted. You let out a soft sigh—a sigh so soft that it barely parts your lips, but he hears you.

“I haven’t asked how you were feelin’ about all this,” he squeezes your shoulder. “How have ya been? This wasn’t all too much for you was it?”

You smile. After all this time you’re still not used to being looked out after.

“I’m okay. I just. . .” You think of Tommy and the look he gave you right before giving all his attention to Sarah. The hurt look in his eyes. The suspicion. “I need you to promise me something—I need you to swear on it.”

His brows furrow, the deep crease between them making your heart clench. You chew on the inside of your cheek, your stomach suddenly full of knots. “I need you to swear you’ll tell Tommy soon. We—We can do it together if you want but I can’t handle seeing him almost every day and just lying—”

“You’re—We’re not lyin’—”

“Swear.”

He turns to you now. The soft light of the TV illuminating his face, making it appear softer. More innocent and full of hurt. His eyes grow kind, understanding. Your eyes widen slightly. Your breath catches in your throat. Your heart plummets. You don’t think there’s a man out there capable of better understanding you than Joel Miller. He’s everything. And he makes you feel like everything.

“On my life.”

we're entering the vacation arc babes 🚗🌲🏞️

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #stay in bed

308 notes · View notes

lilrainbowcloud · 3 months

Text

Flower and Fates

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Genre: Barista x Florist AU

Word Count: 2.1k || masterlist

Warning: none

The sound of chiming bells from the collar of your cat, Festus, accompanied you as you made your way around your little flower shop with a spray bottle in hand. The soft purring he does as the fluffy ball of cloud jumped onto the windowsill and shoving his head under your hand made it difficult for you to attend to your plants causing you to giggle at his need for attention.

"Festus please! I'll play with you when I'm done here," even as you said that, the cat still wouldn't listen, jumping down now, he rubbed himself against your legs making it hard for you to move now without stumbling over him.

Setting the clear spray bottle on the flower stand, you put your hands on your waist as you looked down at your furry friend, "What is up with you today huh?" your annoyed expression changes to a soft one as you bend down to pick him up, how could you even stay mad at him when he's so cute. "You've never been this clingy before," walking to the main table, you sat down on the chair with Festus happyly snuggling on your lap, purring loudly by the gentle scratching on his head.

"This is an early break for me then," sighing as you looked at the clock on the wall, the time showed [11:47AM]. Today was one of the quieter days in your shop. Only having a couple came in hours before to pick their order for a ceremony, other than that later today you might get a few others. Speaking of orders, you remembered you had to continue the last few bouquets of an order for an anniversary today so the client can pick them up tomorrow but with Festus stopping you from doing your work, you just hoped that this cat would be over his episode soon.

A gentle tap on your shoulder almost startled you if the person who you saw by your side was one of a stranger, but he wasn't a stranger. It was Luke, the cute barista from the coffee shop next door who also happened to be your friend from the first day you had opened your shop and now it's been 3 months of your sweet friendship.

The lovely smile of his instantly got mirrored onto your own face, "Hi, Luke." Remembering that you were stroking your cat on your lap, looking down you saw that he was no longer there making you sigh in relief as you could finally stand up and stretch.

"Are you tired today, [Y/N]?" setting the paper bag filled with your usual pastries for lunch, which the freshly baked aroma was starting to seep through it, Luke pulled a chair closer with his foot to sit across from you, "I've never seen you sleep in the shop before. Also, it's very dangerous to when you're all alone in here someone could've just come in,"

Pulling your lips into a tight line humming to give you time to form an answer, you moved yourself closer to the table, your knees bumped his as you grabbed the paper bag with your name on it,”First of all, it was Festus' fault for not letting me water the flowers today because,” Turning your head to look for said cat, you saw that he was eating his food, unbothered, “someone is clingy today,” raising your voice in Festus’ direction, it made the curly haired boy laugh, amused by your relationship with your cat.

“What?” looking at the boy in front of you with a questioning expression, “It's true! I only got to water not even half of my precious flower babies,” lips pouting, you rolled your eyes at him as he continued to laugh, the melodious sound resonating through your quant shop made your heart flutter. A small smile appeared on your face at the thought of how you liked his laugh so much. Brushing your stray hair behind your ears, you then took out the still warm blueberry scone. Humming in satisfaction, eyes closed as the rich flavors filled your mouth.

“I'll help you water them later,” Calming himself down from his laughing fit, cheeks dusted with pink roses Luke sat up straight and took his own lunch, “Now eat up first.”

💐🥀🌷🌸🌻🌼

Mists of water droplets fell onto the rainbow petals of the flowers in your shop, continuing from the windowsill you paused earlier, the afternoon sun rays was beaming through the window and as Luke turned to ask you a question whether or not the section he was standing at had been watered or not, Luke could see the rays blanketed your figure with a soft golden halo. Reaching over your head to spray the hanging pots, once again the water mists fell around you like sparkles.

It was almost like a secret magical moment Luke was seeing. From the quiet and calm atmosphere, to the soft smile on your face as you took care of your plants and to the enchanting sight he just witnessed, if he didn't make friends with you since day one that you went over to his cafe for breakfast, Luke would've thought you were a fairy selling your magically grown flowers.

Captivated by you, Luke didn't even realize that you had moved away and was standing next to him until he heard your voice, “Hey, I think we're done here.” The same soft smile you gave to the flowers, you were showing it to him too. From the months he knew you, Luke had been observant towards your behavior as you didn't talk very much. Knowing by heart the smile you just gave him was one of that the adoring kind, does that mean-

Oh no, the growing feelings for you were sprouting yet another rose in his heart. Ever since he first thought you were such an endearing girl, the first ever bud grew. Every day he sees you as you opened your shop the same time as him, the little red rose was growing steadily. Day by day the petals were opening, until one day of you forming a friendly bond with him to the point of you being comfortable with each other, that was when all types of flowers were blooming in his heart.

The fear of admitting his feelings out loud made him suppress them, everyday he had been stomping on the delicate flowers so as to not ruin your innocent friendship. If you had seen the massacre he had done in his heart, he bet you would've fainted. But deep down he secretly wished that you would attend to his growing feelings just the same as you had attended to your beautiful flowers.

Sighing to himself, lips jutted out in a not so obvious pout to show his disappointment, Luke set down the spray bottle on the front table and followed you to the back room.

The backroom was your workroom where you prepare for orders, and Luke could see the assortments of flower arrangements on the table. Scanning his eyes through the room, he could see there were about a dozen white flower bouquets in a circular shape, the stalks were wrapped with brown paper with purple ribbons tied to them. On your wide work table, he could see the piles of flowers you used to make the order and right now you were cutting the stalk of a white carnation.

“How many of these do you still need to do?” Picking up a white rose, Luke brought it to his nose and inhaled the fragrance of the flower before twirling it with his fingers

“Hmmm, about four more then I'll have to put them in the boxes for them to pick up tomorrow morning.”

As you worked, Luke leaned himself over the table opposite of you, arms extended to support himself as he watched you staking the variety of white coloured flowers together effortlessly, making them blend in together so beautifully it amazed him by how fast you worked. In the next three minutes you were already covering the green stalks with the brown paper.

“Can you help?” Suddenly stopping as you held the paper's edge in place, you looked up at Luke who raised an eyebrow in question. “Can you please cut the ribbon and tie this for me?” Inclining your head towards the roll of purple ribbon and the scissors beside it.

Quick on his feet, Luke did as you said of cutting the ribbon, from the other times he had helped you to prepare orders from time to time, he knew the exact length to cut, even making the inward arrow head you always made at both ends. Standing beside you now, he wove the ribbon around the bouquet, swiftly moving the ribbon under your hold for you to let go and let him take over. As you were retracting your hands, your fingers brushed over Luke’s hands. Another blooming flower.

“Thank you,” Picking up the made bouquet, you walked to the others and set it down, the back of your fingers brushing the soft petals, “For lunch and for helping me today.” Facing him, you suddenly weren't able to meet his eyes.

As you stood there, feeling the warmth of Luke's presence beside you, you couldn't shake the fluttering feeling in your chest. His kindness and helpfulness never failed to make your heart skip a beat, and today was no exception.

"Of course, [Y/N]," Luke replied with a gentle smile, his eyes soft as he looked at you. "I'm always happy to help, especially when it means spending time with you."

You felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks at his words, but you managed to muster a grateful smile in return. "Well, I appreciate it more than you know," you said softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear out of habit.

There was a moment of silence between you, filled only with the sound of your own racing heartbeat. You knew you had to say something, to express the feelings that had been growing inside you for months now. But the words caught in your throat, and you found yourself unable to speak.

Just as you were about to give up and retreat into your own thoughts, Festus, your ever-mischievous cat, suddenly darted into the room, his collar jingling with every step. He leaped onto the table, causing a few stray petals to flutter to the ground, and nuzzled his head against your hand affectionately.

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, grateful for the distraction. But as you glanced up at Luke, you caught a glimpse of something in his eyes—a longing, a vulnerability that mirrored your own.

In that moment, something clicked inside you. You realized that maybe, just maybe, you weren't alone in this after all. Maybe Luke felt the same way you did, but was too afraid to admit it.

Summoning up all your courage, you took a deep breath and met Luke's gaze head-on. "Hey, Luke," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I was wondering... um, would you maybe want to go out for dinner sometime? Just the two of us?"

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with anticipation. You held your breath, waiting for his response, unsure of what to expect.

Luke's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, you feared you had overstepped. But then, a slow smile spread across his face, lighting up his features in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"I'd love to," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth. "I've been wanting to ask you the same thing, actually."

Relief flooded through you, followed by a rush of excitement. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something wonderful.

But as you exchanged smiles and made plans for your dinner date, neither of you noticed the knowing glint in Festus's eyes. After all, he had his own secrets to keep—the biggest one being that he wasn't just an ordinary cat, but a Cynocephalus, a mythical creature with a knack for bringing people together.

With a satisfied purr, Festus slipped out of the shop and disappeared into the twilight, his mission accomplished. And as he vanished into the shadows, a faint shimmer of magic lingered in the air, a silent testament to the power of love and the mysterious ways of the gods.

As you and Luke walked hand in hand into the evening, the world seemed to sparkle with newfound enchantment, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected twist of fate that had brought you together. Little did you know, your journey was only just beginning, filled with magic, adventure, and the boundless possibilities of love.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan au #pjo #pjo tv show

199 notes · View notes

nczennie · 1 year

Text

why won't you love me.

Pairing: Reader x Jaehyun AU: Exes! but it's complicated Genre: Angst, Smut (18+ only) Preview: You shake your head at him before speaking, voice coming out as a quiet whisper, eyes watering as you look at him, "Why won't you love me?"Jaehyun abruptly stands from his seat, slamming his hand against the counter which makes you jump, "Don't!", he's nearly yelling, "Just stop, why would you-how dare you even say that to me!" Words: 5.9k *Warnings under cut

Warnings: Toxic relationship, reader is very lonely and uses sex to cope, mentions of food and eating, mentions of having children, cussing, Smut scenes (oral m. receiving, throat fucking, protected penetrative sex, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, talk of breeding).

You let out a shaky breath as you set down your glass of wine, staring at the white envelope in front of you. To be fair, you knew it was coming, but that didn't make opening it any easier for you. That's why you were currently on your second glass still working up the courage to look at it's contents. Finally chugging down the last sip, you set your determined gaze on the paper, taking it in your hands. You tear it open carefully, as to not rip it too badly, before taking the small card out. Save the Date it reads in large gold font. You swallow thickly as you take in the appearance of the card, the wedding date set for 9 months from now, and the beautiful picture of Irene, one of your best friends, smiling brightly next to her financé.

Running your hands over the card, you recall getting all the others like this. Joy's, just after college, followed by Wendy and Seulgi some years later. You never really worried until last year when even the youngest of your friend group, Yeri, announced her wedding. And now Irene, the Irene who spent years swearing marriage wasn't for her and wouldn't be in her future, yet you held her announcement in your hands.

You don't even notice you're crying until the tears drop onto the table. Groaning in frustration at your emotions, you move to the kitchen to grab a box of tissues and another bottle of wine. It's hard, to feel like your life is passing by and you're stuck in one place, especially when everyone around you is moving past you as well. You never thought you were one to care about getting married, brushing off the concept of it especially when you first graduated college. But now you find yourself here all these years later, sitting alone in your apartment, no partner, no pet, no nothing whereas your friends were all getting married, buying houses, even Joy caring for her children. You sniffle as your open you second bottle of wine, pouring another glass and trying to think of all of the events of your life that may have led to this moment.

Jaehyun groans as he reaches to turn off his alarm clock. He's been working at his office job for years yet waking up this early is something he has never gotten used to. He takes his time getting out of the warmth of his sheets and makes his way to the bathroom, stopping along the way to grab his phone he left charging on his dresser. Picking it up, he feels confused and a bit worried when he finds there was three missed calls from you at 2:00am. He swallows as he moves to his messages, noticing you texted him merely an hour ago.

I miss you. It reads and he stares at it wondering if you had woken up early or if you stayed awake all night apparently calling and missing him. He lets out a groan, running a hand over his face before moving to reply to you. Dinner tonight at mine? 7pm. He clicks send before throwing his phone on the bed, moving to shower where he can question and regret his decision to invite you over once again.

You and Jaehyun met when you were early on in university. One of the many parties hosted by your mutual friends, you notice him standing alone in the kitchen and you're so taken aback by how handsome he was that you make your way over to him without much thought. Only a couple of months later and he was your boyfriend. To this day he was the best boyfriend you've ever had, the most caring, attentive, supportive man you've ever met. The two of you dated for 4 years, by far your longest relationship. It dwindled apart in the end because of the reality of life after college. Entering the real world gave insight to the differences in views you both had. Jaehyun wanted to take it slow, travel before eventually settling down but you were opposite. You grew up different than Jaehyun, where his parents both had successful jobs, your single mom worked two jobs just to feed you both. Whereas Jaehyun wanted to spend money traveling and relaxing straight after graduation, you knew that reality couldn't include you. You had loans and bills to pay that would require you to start working right away.

This reality is what led to the downfall of your relationship. There was no fighting or arguing, just the sad realization that the end had come. You accepted it quickly, you loved Jaehyun, truly, but you had come to terms with the fact that he would not be apart of your future.

Except that he was. The thing about having mutual friends is that you can't get rid of each other. Every birthday, celebration, holiday, gettogether, you would see each other. It was slightly awkward at first but once you both got used to the fact you would constantly be in each other's life, it was as if you were friends again. It was only a couple years ago that you both started to sleep with each other again. It was a messy night, at a summer bbq where Joy announced to everyone she was pregnant. Everyone celebrated with loads of drinks, minus the mother-to-be, and you even went a step further to celebrate by going home with your ex boyfriend.

You never mentioned it to anyone, keeping it your secret. Even as sleeping with him becomes more regular. You wouldn't compare your situation to that of a friends with benefits, it wasn't that often and you only saw each other during friends gatherings or the rare event you did go by his house. Even pursuing relationships with others but even when they failed, Jaehyun was always there as if you could rely on him to wait for you just in case.

The thing with Jaehyun is that he is comfortable and familiar. You had loved him so much during your time together that even having him now gives you a glimpse at the past. The past where you were loved, where you weren't so lonely.

"Are those snowdrops?", you smile as you take off your coat, taking in the small potted flowers that rest on the table near the entryway. Jaehyun hums, locking the door behind you before turning to take in the flowers as well, "Yeah, they were a gift for my anniversary at the office". He chuckles a bit before walking further into the apartment, rolling up the sleeves of his collared white shirt, clearly not having changed since coming home from work. You follow him into the kitchen, taking in the two plates of food set and ready on the island. Jaehyun moves to grab a couple of wine glasses, bringing them to the counter to pour a glass for you both. "I hope you don't mind pasta," he says, concentrated on serving. "Not at all, it looks delicious". He nods his head back towards the fridge behind him, "Do you mind grabbing the parmesan?" Moving to the fridge you freeze for a moment when you see Irene's announcement held to the fridge with a magnet. You gulp, opening the door and getting the cheese, "You got Irene's save the date too?"

He looks at you as he moves to sit, "Yeah, crazy right? Who would've thought she would be settling down." You take your seat beside him, humming in agreement. You both make small talk while you enjoy the food, talking about work, asking about each other families, catching up as you had not been alone with him in months. "So," he speaks, leaning back while using a napkin to clean his face. "Getting drunk on a weeknight huh? What's up with that?" You grimace, playing around with the leftover food on your plate, "Yeah, yeah. You don't need to make me feel more pathetic than I already do". He chuckles, "What? I just meant it's unlike you. Did something happen?"

No, you want to say, nothing as happened. Nothing at all, while everyone around you has something going on, you have nothing. "Was just having a rough day," You murmur instead, eyes automatically moving to the announcement on the fridge in front of you. You can see out of the corner of your eyes he turns to look at the paper too, so you make an excuse before he can bring it up, "Excuse me, I'm going to use the restroom". You make your way down the hallway and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a shaky breath. You wash your hands, staring at yourself in the mirror with annoyance, you came here to forget the feeling that overwhelmed you last night, not relive it all over again.

With a deep breath you make your way back in the kitchen, seeing Jaehyun standing over the sink washing his hands after clearing the dishes. You step forward with a purpose, coming up behind him and wrapping your hands around his waist. He jumps a little, but move to turn the water off, drying his hands before turning to face you, leaning back against the counter as you trap him against it. "You alright?" he asks softly and you give him the best smile you could, nodding before reaching up to put your hands around his neck. You play with the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you, "Just want you," you mutter. "Are you sure?" he asks, and you nod without a second thought, "Positive".

He studies you for a moment before giving in, leaning forward to capture your lips with his own. His hands finally moving to hold you waist as you deepen the kiss, your tongue working its way into his mouth. You enjoy the feeling of his lips for some time longer before realizing you were still able to think. You didn't want to think, you only wanted to forget. You break your lips from his, moving to press slow lingering kisses against his jaw before moving to his neck. You know Jaehyun like the back of your hand so you move automatically to the spot just below his ear. Your teeth graze the spot lightly before you run your tongue over it, earning a quiet grown from the man. "Don't leave any marks," he mumbles and you have to agree no matter how tempting it was. You both are adults now and having hickies was no longer the same as when you were in college.

You let your lips wander along his neck a little longer before you drop to your knees in front of him, hands coming to undo his dress slacks. "Here?" he asks you, uncertain of getting a blowjob next to the sink. You pause, already taking in the ache of your knees from the hard tile. "Okay, maybe we can move to your bedroom". You both chuckle as he helps you up and walks you to his room. He takes matters into his own hands, removing his pants and underwear before sitting on the edge of the bed, hands coming up to unbutton his shirt as you move to your knees in front of him. You take him into your hand, he was only slightly hard from your kitchen escapades so you take your time running your hand over him to help him grow.

You look up at him as he finishes removing his shirt, tossing it on the bed behind him before he looks down to you. Upon having his attention solely on you, you meet his eyes moving your mouth downwards. Letting your tongue run over the head of his cock, your mouth comes to close over it as you hum around him. Your hand still works to get him as hard as possible and Jaehyun's own hand comes to tangle in your hair, soft sounds leaving his lips as you begin to take him further into the warmth of your mouth. Working steadily, you make yourself comfortable taking in as much of his length as you can without completely choking. It's easier when you hear the words of encouragement he gives you, taking the final push and lodging all of him in your throat as the shaky exhales of your nose hits against his pelvis. After sleeping with Jaehyun for years now, you know this is what he likes. His cock stuffing your mouth for as long as possible, so you did your best even now to appease him. Not long after your eyes begin to water and you close them in an attempt to focus on your breathing and ignore the sputtering of your throat around him.

"Look at me," he says gruffly, hand grasping your hair harshly to get your attention. Your scalp stings but you open your eyes nonetheless, barely seeing Jaehyun through your tears. He moans though, "That's my good girl," before moving your head off of him to finally catch your breath. You take deep breaths while you can, your hand moving once again over him, easier now that it's covered with your spit. Jaehyun uses his grip on your hair to make you face him, hurridley kissing you before running his tongue over yours. "Are you gunna let me fuck your throat?" he whispers against your lips and you whine in reply, nodding your head as best you could with his grip still tight in your hair.

Jaehyun stands from the bed, removing your hand from his cock and replacing it with his own. He jerks it a few times and he repositions you, your hands coming to grasp the back of his thighs to hold yourself steady and to tell him when you've had enough if need be. "There you go," He mutters out from above you as your eagarily take him into your mouth once again. His movements start off slow, getting you used to the intrusion again before he picks up his pace, head of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.

You close your eyes and focus on the feeling. Hearing Jaehyun's moan's above you, you welcome the stinging and lightness of your brain as you love the feeling of him using you. Of being useful for someone.

He finally pulls out, just barely, causing his cock to rest on your cheek as you turn to catch your breath. Jaehyun releases your hair, hand running over your head to sooth you. He kneels to match your height, moving to kiss you again now that your breathing was less erratic. "I want you to fuck me," You say almost breathlessly. He hums against your lips, helping you up so you both can move atop his bed. He lays you back against his pillows, still hungrily kissing you, hands running down your thighs, but you move to grasp them. "I want you now," you state. He pauses looking at your eyes, "Just like this?" He asks, not used to not preparing you beforehand. You nod, giving him a smile of encouragement, "Wanna feel you now," you say moving to kiss him. He enjoys your kisses for another moment before moving to grab a condom from his nightstand.

You watch in silence as he puts it on himself, your hand moving downwards to slightly rub against your slit as you take him in. You're craving the stretch of him, the burn much like before that lingers in your throat and was so good that it made you forget how to think.

"You sure?" He asks once again as he settles over you, left arm settled on the bed beside you as his right hand takes a hold of his cock as he moves it along your folds. "Positive", you say already breathless from anticipation. Jaehyun pushes inside of you, moving as slow as possible but you encourage him to fill you up completely. Your eyes roll back into your head at the feeling of his cock stretching you, your hands coming to grasp onto his shoulders. Jaehyun's breath deepens as he groans, moving forwards to place kisses along your jaw. He stills once he's in you fully, but you shake your head slightly, "Keep going,". His face stays put near your neck but his hips begin to move slowly, drawing a moan out of you.

You let yourself drown in the pleasure of Jaehyun that night. You hold him close to you the whole time, your chests presses together and he fucks you into his bed. Your arms around his back so you can feel him completely, so you can feel him everywhere. Even as you both cum you grip tightly onto him as your body trembles.

When you finally do release him from your arms, he moves to clean you up, pressing kisses into your forehead. Once you can move, you excuse yourself to the bathroom where you clean up even more and try to hide the fact that you're crying. You feel slightly better so you move to join him in his bed once again, tucking yourself under the blankets as you rest on your back. You close your eyes and take a deep breath but you can sense Jaehyun is looking at you. "You okay?" he finally breaks the silence. Perhaps he heard you in the bathroom, or maybe the redness around your eyes gave it away. Or maybe, he felt your desperation as you held him closely to you that night.

You lay silently for awhile before you answer him, "It's so hard to be lonely".

Jaehyun clearly remembers the party that took place early on in his University days. He was having a bad day, having just got a failing grade on a test so he mostly stuck to himself in the kitchen. He was surprised when you approached him, at first not really in the mood to make conversation but you were persistent and eventually he brightened.

He didn't know at the time how much he would come to love you. Only months later he had spent time making a playlist perfect for you before presenting it to you over your favorite meal and asking you to officially be his girlfriend. He still thinks those were the best 4 years of his life. You two were perfect for each other, loving and supportive, always there for one another. Jaehyun loved you with everything he was so when you both finally graduated he wasn't nervous, but excited about what was to come for your relationship.

He knew he has always been a dreamer whereas you were more set thinking about the present reality. That's why you were already applying to jobs before you graduated when he was planning up destinations he wanted to visit with you. Jaehyun realized it was really over for you both when he couldn't convince you to travel with him. Your whole friend group planned 2 weeks going across Europe to celebrate but you had already accepted a job. He tried his hardest to convince you to come along, traveling would be good for you, having just finished with a stressful degree you deserve some time off. But you refused, already stressed about the expenses of being an adult. He couldn't fault you, knowing the reality of money as a new graduate was daunting, but he truly hoped to spend some more time with you before entering the real world himself. It hurt more than anything to let you go. Jaehyun was a dreamer. In the years that you spent together, Jaehyun only dreamt of countless more. He dreamt of a big wedding, a small cozy house, a daughter that looked just like you. These were the things Jaehyun wanted more than anything. So it pained him to realize you might not be apart of his future at all. Except that you were. It hurt to let you go, but having to continuously see you afterwards may have hurt him even more. He knew it would be inevitable since your circles are intertwined, but having to see you when he was still painfully in love with you was harder than he thought it would be.

He still tried though, traveling when he could, working hard at his job, testing the waters with new people. Then came the fateful bbq where he had somehow let you convince him to go home with you. It was easy honestly, he loved you so much there wasn't much he wouldn't do for you. But when he let it slip to a couple of his closest friends that you were casually sleeping together from time to time, they gave him worried looks. They warned him it wasn't the best idea when he clearly loved you but you were no longer on the same page. They told him it would only hurt him in the end. And it does, it does hurt him every time you reach out and he knows he's just some kind of last resort, only when you're feeling extra lonely.

But the thing with you is that you're comfortable and familiar. Though you're both grown, you're still that girl he fell in love with in University. The one he dreamed of marrying and having kids with. Jaehyun is a dreamer and he dreams that there is still a reality where this future will come true. That he will continue to answer your calls until you're his again because he still loves you the same way he did when you were together.

It was a hot Spring day and Irene's backyard was crowded with her friends. Now that the weather was better she and her fiancé are throwing a small party to celebrate their engagement. Jaehyun stood under the porch, seeking shelter from the burning sun, the cold beer bottle in his hand helping to keep him cool. He stares at you across the way, legs dipped in the pool as you sit besides Joy, holding her daughter in your lap.

His heart aches in moments like these, wishing more than anything that you both were married yourselves and you had a daughter of your own to look after. He takes a longer swig of his drink when he notices Johnny come up beside him. He ignores his friend in favor of his small daughter he was holding, cheeks rosy from the heat and large smile on her face as she sees her favorite uncle. "Hi, baby," he coos to her automatically handing Johnny his drink so he can take the baby into his own arms. He hoists her above his head as she giggles, bringing her back down to place a kiss on her red cheek before settling her safely on his hip.

"Whatcha doing over here all on your own?" Johnny asks as he grabs a drink for himself from the ice chest. Jaehyun hums, attention still mostly on the baby, "Just trying to stay cool". Johnny takes a sip from his drink, "That's good, I thought you were pining over your ex girlfriend for a second". Jaehyun sends his friend a glare before rolling his eyes. "You seeing her again?" he asks and Jaehyun clears his throat, never one to lie to his friends. "Yeah". "Seeing each other or sleeping with each other?" He asks again and Jaehyun huffs, "It doesn't matter. But we've been seeing each other more than usual".

Johnny stomach turns at the hopefulness in Jaehyun's voice, he sighs, "You can't keep doing this yourself Jaehyun". But Jaehyun only starts to tickle the baby's stomach, smiling at her small laughter. "I'm not doing anything". He says plainly, and now Johnny rolls his eyes. "You're holding on to an old relationship when you need to move on. It's not fair she treats you like this, stringing you along only when she wants to have a good time. You don't deserve that, you deserve to move on and find proper, healthy relationship".

Jaehyun doesn't expect Johnny to say such things on a afternoon surrounded by their friends but it sends cold feeling through him. He merely turns to the baby to place a kiss on her soft hair, "Okay Snowdrop, go back with your daddy for now, Uncle Jae has to use the bathroom". He slips Johnny back his daughter before silently heading inside. It hurts to hear those words from his friend, but he thinks it hurts worse because he knows he's right.

Johnny's words stuck with Jaehyun throughout the rest of the week. He was used to these warnings, usually brushing them off to keep his hope for you, but there was something different about this time around. He's already seen you a couple times since Irene's party. In the past this would delight him, give him something to hold onto, but he knows the reality of your situation now. He noticed the way you looked at that announcement that night, the fact that your best friend was getting married is what drove you to him. He hadn't been naive in the past, knowing you only came to him because you were lonely, but for some reason it feels much worse now.

Instead of a hookup call every couple of months, you've been in constant contact with him since you had got drunk and called him. Jaehyun stomach turns when he figures you might be wanting more that just a hookup. You should be happy, he tells himself, this is what you always wanted, get her back. But for once his rational side is stronger realizing the timing of it all, you truly don't want him, you just don't want to be alone.

You were over for dinner once again but Jaehyun was on edge the whole time. The conversation was light and he seemed dazed. "Are you alright?" You ask him as you load the dishwasher for him, sparing him a glance as he twirls the wine around in his glass. He hums sending a nod, looking up at you as you dry your hand on a towel. You send him a small smile, "So I was thinking, my work trip next month is at some fancy resort just outside the city. It's all inclusive, spa, pool, amazing restaurants. And I can have a plus one".

Jaehyun closes his eyes and huffs, "Don't start this shit". He looks at you in time to see your shocked expression, "Excuse me?" you let you, moving to grab the counter. "Don't start acting like we're together," he says your name firmly, "We haven't been together in years. You haven't wanted me in years, don't start acting like you do now". He chugs down the rest of his drink. He can see from your face you're hurt, but he doesn't understand how you could be. You seem to gather yourself before speaking again, "That was the past, Jaehyun. This is now, I thought you knew when I reached out it was for something more. I told you I missed you". He rolls his eyes, thankful he was able to be strong. Perhaps if Johnny hadn't said those words to him this past weekend he would've already agreed to your trip, moving to look at this fancy hotel online, enjoying you before you decided you weren't lonely enough to resort to him anymore.

He says your name softly, "I know that's not true. You don't miss me, you miss having someone to have around". You avert your gaze, maybe ashamed he called you out. "I'm tired of this, I'm tired of being your fucking backup plan". You shake your head at him before speaking, voice coming out as a quiet whisper, eyes watering as you look at him, "Why won't you love me?"

Jaehyun abruptly stands from his seat, slamming his hand against the counter which makes you jump, "Don't!", he's nearly yelling, "Just stop, why would you-how dare you even say that to me!" A couple of tears have made their way down your face but Jaehyun only sees red, "You have no right to say that to me, not when I'm the only one who has shown love in all the years we've known each other". He can tell from your face the sadness is leaving your body as you become angry, "That is not true!" "Since we broke up-" he states but you cut him off, "You don't know anything about how I feel, how I felt for you all this time".

Jaehyun knows it was wrong of him to claim you didn't love him all the years you were together, you were nothing but a loving and caring girlfriend. But the anger get the best of him, especially knowing you haven't truly loved him in years. At least, not the same love he felt for you.

He takes deep breaths, trying to stop himself from speaking anymore. Not wanting to say anything worse while he's so angry, he merely watches as you stand across from him looking sad. Looking sad and beautiful and like his girlfriend he fell in love with.

Anger clouds Jaehyun's head, or possibly his love for you. He takes two steps to reach you before grabbing your face in his hands, pausing for a moment to see if you pull away from him. When you don't, he slams his lips against yours. You kiss him back, both of you sharing your frustrations through your lips. You move to grab onto his shirt to pull him closer to you, his hips slamming against yours, your back pushing almost painfully into the counter. Jaehyun roughly bites on your lips, causing you to whimper but he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You both kiss rushed and messily, hands running along each other's bodies as if you were in a hurry.

Jaehyun uses his knee to push between your legs, making you spread your legs wider. One of his hands makes its way down your body, stopping to grab your thigh roughly before his fingers soothingly run up under your dress, reaching to touch you through your panties. You groan into his mouth as he pushes against your clit, running up and down the cloth a few times before he decides it was enough.

He slips the material to the side to access your wetness, fingers touching you as his tongue still roams your mouth eagerly. He pushes his middle finger into your hole, knowing you were ready for him, yet the tightness he feels still causes a groan to leave his mouth. Jaehyun works a second finger into you, both of them moving against your walls quickly but still hitting all the right spots. Your mouth falls open as you grip his forearm, he can feel your nails digging into his arm and it only urges him to go faster. He moves his mouth to messily kiss along your jaw and down your neck, roughly biting into the soft skin every now and again. "Please, Jaehyun," you call out in a mixture of a whine and a moan causing his heart to pound firmly against his chest.

"C'mon, baby," he huskily says into your ear. His fingers are moving faster and he curls them in order to make your feel the best, his palm just at the right angle to rub against you. "There you go, cum for me" he says as he feels you tightening around him, your head thrown back in pleasure. He slows his pace but keeps moving his fingers inside of you, watching your face until your eyebrows furrow and attempt to stop his hand from moving. He pulls his fingers out, resting them on your thigh before he moves his mouth over to kiss you again. His lips are much slower against your own now. The two of you continue to kiss with this pace, just slow, almost passionate as you move against each other. In the end he can't hold out any longer, so he moves to undo his pants, taking his hard cock out of its confines.

He rubs himself in his hand a few times, the logical part of his brain reminding him he should be smart and run to the bedroom to get a condom really quick. But his brain is still clouded and not using a condom only tempted him. You don't move to object either as he lifts one of your legs up over his hip, pulling your panties to the side once again, before lining up his cock with your entrance. He rubs his tip against you, looking into your eyes to see if you want him to stop, breathing heavily when you merely nod your head to get him to continue. At your encouragement he slowly pushed himself inside of you, both of you emitting sounds of pleasure at the intrusion.

Jaehyun goes back to kissing you as he waits for your to be comfortable around him, enjoying the feeling of your hand running up his arm. When he finally moves it seems like he can't stop, his thrusts becoming faster as he feels your warmth around him without a barrier.

His mind only becomes more clouded as he has you like this, nothing in between you both. He can see your wetness coating his bare cock as he glances down to see where you meet. "Looks so good," he grumbles, "Feels even better". He says it quietly as if he isn't sure if he's telling you or himself. He picks up the pace, hand gripping your thigh tighter, "Can't believe you're letting me fuck you raw like this, huh,". He pushes his forehead against your own but you can barely keep your eyes open at the pleasure.

"Maybe I should fuck a baby into you, what do you think?" He mumbles against your lips and you whine his name in return. Jaehyun knows he shouldn't be saying stuff like this, especially now after fighting over your so-called relationship. Not when it's such a touchy subject for you both. But his head is so filled with desire, desire for you, desire for something more in life with you, that these things are slipping freely past his lips.

"Mm, that's right. Let me cum inside you, baby. I'll fill you up so nicely". His mouth is lose at this point, words tumbling off his lips he knows he will regret later. "Please, Jaehyun," you moan back to him, "Please cum inside". "Shit," he curses as you encourage him, hips knocking into yours as he reaches his end. Spilling his warmth deep inside of you, he feels amazing now, ears ringing and hands roaming your body. He kisses you before he can think too much, before he comes to his senses and realize what he has done. For now he will just bask in the afterglow.

The both of you are now settled onto his couch. A large blanket covers the two of you as you have cleaned up and now lay watching a random movie he found on t.v. You're head is against his chest as he plays with your hair and you feel so tired. Physically and mentally. Tired of holding onto Jaehyun and relying on him as your only source of comfort. He doesn't deserve that and frankly neither do you. Yet neither of you can seem to stop.

"Why do we keep holding onto each other?" you whisper out to him, breaking the long silence between you both.

"You hold onto me because I make you feel less lonely," he speaks back, hand roaming down your arm to play with your fingers, "And I hold onto you because I'm in love with you".

🌼 All feedback is appreciated and welcomed 🌼

1K notes · View notes

awearywritersworld · 1 year

Text

Gojo Satoru x Reader summary: you and gojo have been more than friends for years, but when geto massacred all those civilians, it left him broken. years later, he finally realizes he needs to pick up the pieces. w/c: 2.1k warnings: smut, kinda angsty, but also fluffy, creampie, gojo being vulnerable, sex with feelings a/n: lovers to it's complicated to maybe we can fix things vibes, fem!reader, softdom!gojo, *NSFW under the cut* masterlist

A steady, slow percussion reaches Gojo’s ears as he stands outside your door late one evening. His hand rises to knock against the wood, though he wonders if you can even hear it over the music. Just as his knuckles are about to meet with the door once more, the melody grows quieter and he listens to your soft footsteps approach. When the door swings open, revealing you on the other side, the sight alone makes the ever-present burden on Gojo’s shoulders feel less crushing.

“What are you doing here?”

A dark shirt hangs loosely from his frame and your eyes trail down to his exposed collarbones before they dart back up to his face. He looks tired and worn, but so do you.

“I just finished that mission, the special grade in Minato.”

His words don’t necessarily answer your question, but you still move aside to let the man in. He notices the drink in your hand for the first time when you bring it to your lips and take a small sip.

Your relationship with Gojo is complicated, a fact that weighs heavily in your chest. It wasn't always this way.

At first, it was simple. You’d never explicitly called yourself a couple, though your actions toward and feelings for one another were those of lovers. Your relationship was left undefined, sure, but never complicated.

That was years ago, though--- before Geto massacred those civilians, before he tore his best friend's heart to pieces.

You alone had been there to see Gojo’s inevitable breakdown. You would never forget how his voice cracked as he cursed the cruel world and malevolent gods that presided over it. His hair had fallen over his eyes, but they were still shining brightly despite the tears that flooded them.

Those memories, seared into your mind, make it hard to stay mad at him. Even though he disappears for days at a time and hides his feelings behind that cocky nonchalance... You remain by his side nonetheless.

As he steps past you and into the room, he squeezes your hip in greeting. The warm, dim lighting of the room brings him a small sense of ease, even as violent images from the mission wrack his mind. He moves toward your small kitchenette, making himself a drink to match your own.

You watch as the amber-colored liquor pours over the ice and fills his cup, grimacing at the sight. You know he hates alcohol more than most things. “Minato was that bad, huh?"

He tilts his head back and lets the liquor run down his throat, trying and failing not to wince at the sensation. He wipes at his lips before nodding, “yes.”

You sit down on the sofa and he grabs the bottle from the counter before joining you, sitting close enough that your thighs touch. He tops off both your drinks, then leans back, slings an arm around your shoulders, and relaxes into the cushions. You whisper your thanks. It's silent for a little while, save for the quiet music.

“I didn’t think saving people would be such a bloody endeavor," you begin. You're no stranger to the gory reality rattling around in his head at the moment. "Wanna talk about?"

He does and he doesn't spare you any of the details regarding his last 48 hours. Over the course of his recollection, you shift so that you're situated more snugly into his side, your fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt as you listen intently. He chokes up toward the end, struggling to recount the worst and final part.

You place your hand above his knee. "I'm sorry you couldn't save them, 'Ru. I know how impossible it is to endure, let alone talk about."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just presses his thigh into your touch. When he takes the last sip left in his glass, it doesn't sting as much now that he's reached the bottom.

“Well, I’ve got no secrets, baby.. Not with you, anyway. Just dirty shame.”

Your features soften and you know the meaning behind his words doesn't pertain to cursed spirits alone.

"You should try to forgive yourself."

You look up at him to find that he's already peering down at you. He wants to tell you he can't ever possibly do that. There isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't regret how he's treated you over the years.

"You're so pretty," he says instead.

You reach up to pull the blindfold from his eyes, which he lets you do without protest. The praise had made your stomach stir, but the intense look swimming in his irises increases it tenfold.

"So are you."

He leans over and places his empty cup on the table. The loss of contact almost makes you shiver, but it's only a moment before his warmth returns and he reaches up to caress your cheek.

He leans in, closing his eyes and brushing his nose against yours lovingly. When his lips find yours, they taste like whisky, but they're still impossibly sweet.

His movements are slow and deliberate, his hand creeping to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair in hopes of keeping you close. His other hand finds your waist, tugging you toward his lap.

You oblige, shifting to straddle him without breaking the kiss. Your hands rest on his chest, noting the way it rises and falls deeply beneath your palms. He pulls away ever so slightly.

"Tell me you're mine," he pleads desperately against your lips.

"Always have been, 'Ru," you answer honestly.

It makes his heart squeeze and he grabs your face with both hands, pulling it back so that he can really look at you.

"You're so sweet to me."

His tone takes you off guard and all you can do in response is press your lips against his once more. This time, however, it's more fervent--- sloppy, even--- as your hands grab at the other's clothing.

Quickly, you're both left only in your underwear and your now exposed skin is hot against his own. You can feel that he's hardened beneath you, so you press yourself against him and let out a small noise at the sensation.

He grabs your hips tightly and his cock begins to strain against his boxers. As you move, you can feel every ridge of it through the thin fabric.

"Off," you mutter, slipping a finger under his waistband and pulling at it.

He stands, easily supporting your combined weight, and lays you down on the couch. He clumsily slides the boxers down his thighs, his cock slapping against his stomach in the process. The sight of it has you rubbing your thighs together impatiently.

He kneels between your legs, pulling them apart, and pushes your panties to the side. A groan passes his lips in appreciation when he runs a finger up your slit, already slick for him.

He litters your thighs with kisses, moving along so slowly it makes your core begin to ache. By the time he reaches where you need him most, you're squirming under his hold.

His nose nudges your clit as he kisses you there and you exhale sharply.

"Satoru, please," you whine.

Unable to deny you, he hums and slips a finger inside, curling it up to hit that one spot he knows you like.

You clench around his finger, sending a shudder through both your bodies, and you mewl in a way that makes him realize how needy you are.

"N-No," you stammer, pushing his hand away despite the pleasure it was bringing you. A thin sheen of sweat has appeared on your forehead. "Need you inside."

Your plea makes his cock throb painfully and he wastes no time in positioning himself over top of you. He gently presses your thigh to your chest and enjoys one of his favorite views in the world. Lining himself up with your entrance, he rubs his head along your folds.

Leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead, his lips linger there for a moment.

"Fuck, (y/n)," he murmurs in your ear just before pushing in.

A guttural moan escapes his throat when he first splits you open. Once he's filled you to the hilt, he stills, his fists clenching. He'll never tire of the way your warm, tight walls make him feel.

"I'm yours too, you know." He takes his first thrust and relishes in how your mouth falls open in response. "All yours."

Gojo picks up the pace and you grab at his back and bicep, leaving harsh red marks beneath your fingernails. You feel so full it's dizzying.

"Just like that," you encourage him.

He looks down to where you're connected. Everything about the moment is like a drug to him--- your pretty pussy clenching around him, your breathy moans in his ear, his skin flush against yours.

He reaches down to your clit, sliding it between his fingers and rubbing firm, steady circles there. His eyes shift to your face. "Look at me."

You listen obediently, your eyes growing hazy. His mirror your own, heavy-lidded with pleasure. He pushes your other thigh to your chest to match the first. "This feel good, baby?"

You nod up at him with parted lips and flushed cheeks. His mouth finds your neck, leaving a mix of messy kisses and bites from your shoulder up to your ear. "C'mon, cum for me. I know you're a good girl."

You whimper from the over stimulation and feel your core tighten, your thighs tensing. Your grip on his bicep strains and your eyes screw shut. He knows you're close.

"Tsk, tsk," he chides, "I said look at me, sweetheart."

"'M sorry," you cry softly as your eyes pop open.

He hums, a small smile on his face. His gaze is unyielding. Possessive, in a way.

There's a light feeling in the pit of your stomach. "Satoru-"

"I know, baby." His voice is honeyed, "go 'head."

At his words, you feel your climax roll through you, the powerful sensation reaching every single part of your body. Your legs tremble weakly and Gojo thinks the strangled sound you just made was delightful.

He's in heaven. Your pussy is pulsating around his cock and you're still holding his gaze, all fucked out and beautiful.

"You feel so fucking good," he growls.

His hips begin to snap against yours at an unforgiving pace, but his movements soon become irregular.

"Can I fill you up?" He's all but pleading with you.

"Please." He takes satisfaction in the fact that you sound just as desperate as he does.

His hand moves to grab your hip. His is grip painful but elicits a moan from you that pushes him over the edge.

Your name falls from his lips in the same way a sinner begs for heaven. His final strokes are sloppy, but he still nestles himself inside you as deeply as he can

Gojo lowers his face to yours and you kiss along his jawline, before leaving a love bite on his neck. You feel his cock twitch inside you one last time. He rests like that for a little while, but eventually finds the strength to push himself back up.

He's pleased when he takes in the harsh marks he's left on your skin, a reminder that you're his. You watch him intently and Gojo can't help himself--- he leans down to nip at the fragile skin of your collarbones just a little more.

Afterward, he shifts so that he's spooning you, even if the small couch offered little space. Burying his nose in your hair and closing his eyes, his arms tighten around you.

"I love you," he offers.

It's not like you'd never heard Gojo say that he loves you, it's just something you hear a lot less ever since Geto-

You try to shift your mind away from that, staying quiet for a moment. You feel your eyes sting and you will yourself to keep it together.

Turning toward him, he's softened enough that he falls out with the movement. His cum runs down the crease of your thigh and you're left feeling empty.

Propping yourself up, you lean down and press your lips to his forehead. Your eyes well up once more, but this time, you can't make the tears disappear.

"I love you," you finally whisper against his skin.

When you pull away, you know immediately that he's noticed your watery eyes. Loving him has been the hardest thing you've ever done.

He knows that.

Instead of saying anything (he was liable to ruin the moment were he to speak, he knows that too), he pulls you into his chest and strokes the back of your head soothingly.

There's that dirty shame.

But he'll try to forgive himself because it's what you asked. Because he has to fix things before he loses you, too.

#m!writes!smut #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #gojo #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen X reader #Jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut

2K notes · View notes