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gyuswhore · 8 months

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the story of us ✦ j.w.w x reader

the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now - the story of us

synopsis: So many walls that you can't break through; except you do.

wc: 2.1K

contains: best friends to lovers, angst, fluff, humour, happy ending, alcohol, arguments

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[a/n]: im exhausted, im loopy, im hungry, but i really wanted to post this so here you go my babies I'm sorry i haven't fed you in so long (ty @toruro for making sure i wasn't talking out of my ass in this ily)

[edit; 11/04/24]: grammar and spelling.

Jeon Wonwoo was nearing boiling point when he watched you push him away from yet another conversation.

He tried to understand, just like he always had. But it was proving near impossible at the five-month mark.

There were clear signs you exhibited when you needed space, for whatever reason, Wonwoo knew you would tell him when you recovered. So he gave you what you needed.

And yet, when he finds himself pushed away from what looks like a casual conversation between your mutual friends, he finds his mild annoyance grow into something hotter.

There’s a clench in his jaw as he tries not to squeeze the red cup in his hand with too much pressure, even when all the spiteful bit of his brain wants to do is to pour its pigmented contents all over your cream outfit. He manages to control himself, choosing to get up and exit the premises entirely. In complete silence, he refuses to acknowledge any yell of his name from passing acquaintances.

Jeon Wonwoo refused to respond to any of your advances after that.

Invitations to lunch were left on a jarring sent, the notification sitting in his log until he chooses to open it too late. His response was bare when you asked for help on some accounting concepts, pushing you over into Jihoon’s hands to fulfill your requirements. There’s a blatant shrug when you touch his shoulder, concerned, asking why his behaviour had become so distant in the past weeks; he responds with a mumble of, “just tired”.

The great divide happened a few days proceeding your birthday, one for which Wonwoo did nothing for but send you a quick message during the evening, never to see you throughout the extended day.

“I can’t believe you’re putting this on me!” you all but yell, eyes wide and expression exasperated at the situation.

“Are you blind? Or just plain stupid? Because I didn’t tolerate months of your shit attitude to have you say it isn’t your fault.” Wonwoo is breathing heavily, hands motioning towards your entire figure with equal disbelief.

“What attitude?” you emphasize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I couldn’t be upfront with my best friend.”

“There’s a difference between being in a mood and blatant disrespect. I’m tired of having to put up with your mood swings like it’s my responsibility to coddle you. When was the last time you genuinely asked me how I was doing?”

“All the time!”

“Yeah, after you realize there's nobody else to whine and wail to!”

“Wonwoo, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Fine. If I’m clearly so unhinged, I’ll leave you to your liking.”

The dwindled interactions, from messages to hellos, went from sparing to nonexistent — just like that.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect for you and Wonwoo to reconcile in the matter of a few days, if not a couple weeks.

But when the distance did nothing but grow larger, there was a settle of resentment in the pit of your stomach as you accepted the feud you were in.

A text was sent from your phone a couple days after the incident.

[You]: can we talk?

But when you see no sign of the grey Delivered on the end, you knew he had blocked you.

This was all nothing less than baffling to you for a number of reasons, starting with how you had never witnessed Wowoo acting this way.

Wonwoo had done nothing but reprimand you the rare chance you suggested blocking an apprehensive individual, something about not showing that you cared. His voice seemed redundant after a certain decibel, the rarest chance to witness him yell at a failed video game or a frustrating professor.

You know better, which is the only reason you’re ruling off paranormal possession.

The claims against you came as an afterthought, not, however, rendering them any less strange. There’s a part of you that pondered if your shield of annoyance blocked you from seeing the truth in his words and in your behaviour, finding yourself overwhelmed with emotions when the thought crossed your mind, tears of frustration immediately blurring your vision.

You did not understand, you could not. And when it all got too much, you allowed the hurt and confusion to turn into something more dangerous. You replaced it with anger, in the same place that once occupied a more delicate emotion.

There was an uproar in Wonwoo’s mind when he sees you walk into the lecture hall, unaware of your overlapping schedule in the new semester. He watches as your eyes pass over the moderately packed space, briefly glancing over where he sat; if you saw him, you did nothing to bring a reaction out of it. You take a seat a few rows up front, right in front of him where he’s able to see the back of your head for the next two hours — for the rest of the semester.

He wonders if it’s too late to switch classes.

“Wonwoo, I honestly think this is getting out of hand.” Jihoon munches on his cashews, leaning against bark of the tree they were both sat under.

“Did you want me to keep tending to her bullshit then?” he grumbles.

“That’s not what I’m saying, you know it’s not.”

“That’s what it sounds like.” Wonwoo’s retort is brisk.

Jihoon is suddenly snapping his fingers in his face at the reply, a flinch accompanies Wonwoo’s already sour expression.

“See! See how frustrating it is when somebody isn’t making sense?”

“How does this—”

“Wonwoo, did you try talking to her about how you felt, you know, without the screaming?”

Jihoon watches as Wonwoo’s expression clears out, his eyebrows unfurrowing and the scowl fading. He doesn’t speak, choosing to let the realization kick in.

“No.”

Jihoon sighs, taking another pause. “I’m not saying what she did wasn’t uncalled for, but you need to talk shit out before deciding you hate each other.”

“I don’t hate her.”

“Right, so can we wrap this up quickly and have you confess your undying love so we can all relax.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Heat crawls up Wonwoo’s cheeks.

“What? If you don’t hate her, it’s gotta be the opposite.”

Did Wonwoo like you? Yeah, he probably did. Did he ever let himself ponder upon it? No, because he was downright mortified of the mere thought. He finds himself a hypocrite to say it was to preserve your friendship, but he figures he’s fucked it up in a way that’s arguably worse.

Regardless, Wonwoo walks away from that conversation with two things: a stark realization, and an even starker admittance.

Everything was going wrong. At least that’s what it felt like when you hear the clang of your water bottle hit the pavement, rolling off into the oncoming traffic as you sprint to grab it. You nearly cause a vehicle pile-up, swallowing a couple profanities from braking drivers.

You’re stuffing the darn thing into your bag when you trip on a loose brick on the path, nearly landing on your face. The glare you send into the pavement costs you even more when a hard shoulder bumps into your side, sending you another couple steps back. You don’t bother to see who the perpetrator is, too preoccupied with your attempts to take in deeper breaths amid the blankness of your mind.

There are no hiccups after that, what you might owe your more conscious mind to. Stomping up the library steps, you thank nothingness for the air conditioning that meets your hot face, slowing down as you take in the crowd.

Scanning the room for an empty seat is harder than you’d anticipated, hoping the heat would keep students away from the building as you left to get work done. Approaching a table, you set down your bag with a huff, pulling the chair out to finally take the seat you’ve been needing for so long.

The universe seems to have other plans.

It’s almost funny the way you and Wonwoo make eye contact across the other table, the recognition sending a jolt through your stomach.

You’ve never moved so fast, pushing the chair back in with a screech that earns you a few looks, grabbing the handles of your bag as you turn around to leave the building you’d just entered.

No way you'd sit there. Not when he was around.

You're bounding down the steps when somebody passes you, murmuring something without slowing their stride.

“I’m leaving, you can go inside,” Wonwoo says, and the sound of his voice has you halting almost immediately.

Whipping your head around to search for the sound, you watch as he takes a turn at the end of the steps, slowly moving out of your vision.

There’s a swirl of something in your chest, and you realise in that moment how much you missed hearing his voice.

Chiding yourself, you blink back the water that wells up in your eyes, embarrassed at how quickly you were losing yourself.

But the damage was done. And you wanted to be reckless, regardless of how desperate it made you look. A split second decision is made in that moment, one that lightens the heavy feet that you’ve planted on the concrete.

You’re back to bounding down the steps, but this time with aim.

Taking the same turn you saw Wonwoo take, you break into a sprint as you see his figure move farther away. You keep running, continuing to bump into both objects and people, hurried "sorry"'s the only thing you choose to throw their way.

“Wonwoo!” Your voice comes out stronger than you’d intended, the sharpness having him turn around in search, eyes landing on your accelerating figure.

Both of you realize too late how fast you’re really going, the velocity taking you directly into his outstretched arms, hands grasping the sleeves of his shirt as you come to screeching stop directly into his chest.

You don’t have the time nor the patience to be embarrassed, pulling your face back to look directly into Wonwoo’s bewildered eyes to huff out your next words.

“Why did you block me?” you ask, voice gruff and slightly out of breath.

Wonwoo’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, words refusing to come out.

“Why are you so mad at me? Why are you being nice to me if you’re mad at me?” You don’t stop, the direct questions tumbling off your tongue in desperation.

You search his face for an answer when his mouth fails, but all you find is the remnants of shock yet to ebb away.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel like you weren’t important, I’m sorry for taking your presence for granted, I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for…for… I don’t know! I’m just really sorry and I don't know how else to make this right.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you hear him say and you feel the moisture return to your eyes.

“Huh?”

“I should’ve…” he pauses, looking sheepish. “I should’ve talked to you before I, y’know, went off on you. I should’ve managed my feelings better, I’m sorry.”

You're silent for a few tantalizing moments before you raise your fists, and pound down on his chest with everything you have. You do it again, and then again, and again—

“What?- Ow!”

“When are you gonna stop bottling up your feelings for fucks sake, it’s landed you everywhere but good!” you say, nearly yelling.

Wonwoo whips his head around to see who’s listening, palm to mouth in attempts to silence you.

“I’m sorry! I know! I’m working on it,” he rambles, trying to get you to quit struggling. “Jihoon and I talked, that’s why I realised I was being dumb.”

“Are you gonna unblock me now or do I need to pay Jihoon to sit down with you again?”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrow. “You payed Jihoon to sit with me?”

“No, you idiot. But I should have because you can’t seem to figure out how to feel emotions.”

Wonwoo can’t help himself when he breaks out into a grin, letting out a breathy chuckle that has you asking “What?”.

He pulls you in, heart to heart in an embrace, holding you tight to make up for the weeks of no contact. He breathes in your scent and feels as though he hasn’t in years.

“I’m not gonna come running up to you the next time you decide you hate me,” you mumble into his shoulder, pouting slightly.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“No.” Wonwoo pulls away but keeps you in his arms, looking at you, “I love you. Like, the kind of stuff that makes you wanna live together forever. I love you.”

It’s your turn to gape like a fish.

“W-what?”

“You told me not to bottle up my feelings.”

“Yeah, but—wow, um.”

“Did I make another mistake?”

No! You wanted to scream. But you don’t. You instead lift your hands up to come around his face, cradling it. And you kissed him.

“I love you, too. Like the live together forever kind.”

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kairiscorner · 8 months

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married life. — kento nanami x spouse!reader (part 1)

summary: he'd give up his old habits and more just to see you smile, be with you for a little longer, and make you the happiest person in the whole damn world; he's your husband for that very reason. pairing: nanami kento x spouse!gn!reader genre: tooth-rotting fluff !! content warnings: mentions of slight alcoholism author's note: i saw that fanart of nanami that i reblogged and my mind just came up with all kinds of shit for him. i loved him for 6 months straight, I WANNA GET BACK THERE, LET ME LOVE HIM FOR 6 MONTHS MORE !!

kento nanami comes home from his dead-end, nowhere 9 to 5 job, exhausted and in need of rest. about a year ago, all he had to comfort him was a bottle of pricey wine that he indulged in every end of the month or so, not minding it was nearing its expiry date. he only had store-bought bread and whatever melodramatic soap opera was on TV to entertain him.

kento nanami was indeed, lonely; he was well aware of his own loneliness and needed nobody to point that out for him. it always made him feel worse whenever anybody would say how handsome he is or he's not getting any younger and that he has to settle down at some point.

kento nanami was never the jealous type, though whenever he'd hear word about a coworker of his or whoever getting married and being invited to the ceremony, he'd always feel a kind of pang in his heart, knowing he could never have that kind of life.

kento nanami had given up all hope of finding the right person, none of the people he had met recently were anything he felt connected to (or could even start a conversation with).

kento nanami used to clutch his wine bottle at night, hiccuping in a drunken state as the dialogue from the characters on the late night soap opera on TV was fading from his senses and sleep had come to finally take him away.

kento nanami however, gets woken up in the middle of the night to the feeling of warm hands on both sides of his face; hearing a soft, gentle voice call his name as he grumbles and groans.

kento nanami hears a giggle ring throughout his ears as he's being helped up by soft hands. "kento... if you were that tired, you could've asked for my help, love." you chided him gently as he hummed in confusion.

kento nanami sighed as he tried to stand up. "my... spouse isn't gonna like... that you're helping my drunk self off the couch... right now..." he said as he nearly staggered, but you aided him up as you nearly carried him up the stairs. "they don't want to see... me drinking anymore... but i can't help it, i miss them... too much, the alcohol... it brings me closer to them, lets me stay with them a little... little longer in my dreams..." he mumbled.

kento nanami began to tear up lightly as he kept mumbling and muttering about how much he loves his spouse, how much they saved him from a lifetime of loneliness he already accepted was going to be his life. "i can't believe that... that i... i was saved from... growing old all by myself... a miserable, meaningless life... a life without them by them... and i pull this stunt on them after... promising i'd be better... it didn't make me feel any better, it made me feel sadder." he confessed to you as you got him up to your shared bedroom and laid him down on the bed.

kento nanami sobbed as he kept going on and on about his beloved spouse, how he wants to be better and that they've looked forward to the day when he could spend one evening without him being passed out on the couch from the habit he had yet to get rid of him drinking himself to sleep before he got married.

kento nanami felt loving hands stroke his hair and shush him, kissing his temples as he tried to say sorry to his spouse. "please stop kissing and holding me... my spouse'll be sad... i wanna see them so bad..." he whispered as you chuckled. "kento, i am your spouse." you tell him as you felt over his ring finger, the two of you wearing the rings you both slid on each other on the day of your wedding.

kento nanami blinked his tears away in realization, and his face scrunched up even more as he began to sob harder. he wrapped his arms around your waist and cried into your shoulder, apologizing that he should've squared up, he shouldn't have let you down, but you shushed him and told him with a comforting voice that it was okay. "it's hard to get out of a habit, love... i know that. i'm not angry, i'm not disappointed... i'll stay with you forever, kento, you don't need to keep that in your dreams. i'll always be with you." you promised him as you kissed the top of his head, with him thanking you and kissing your cheeks, his tears wetting them as he muttered how in love he is with you, how he'll work on this starting tomorrow, but for now... all he wants to do is hold you in his arms and sleep with you, just lay here on the bed with you in his arms and with his heart beating in harmony with yours.

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rennyrose · 1 month

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I would absolutely love to hear your schpeel about how LR handle emotions ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

(Shiooooooooooooot thank ya'll ahhhH ((I hope u enjoyed the manga ahhhhhhhh)))

(Oh jeeze I struggled with picking out where to start with this- but yeh here's some of my THots and Interpralations- Spoilers!))

I guess comparatively it's interesting how differently LR deal with heavy emotions- Livio when he's allowed to be his true self is very in touch with his feelings while also being very receptive of other's emotions (A double edged sword- making him empathetic/sympathetic and good with children, but also hypersensitive to negativity geared towards him, which causes him false senses of rejection)

NGL I find it refreshing having a masculine character be a leaky faucet and it's not portrayed as a running joke- I can only imagine how much conditioning it took for Chapel to instill on L for him to bottle his emotions up so much to the point he behaved more like a machine than a person, with Livio trying his best to remain in Chapel's good standings (So much so it still has an effect on how Livio perceives himself, less of a man and moreso a tool). I can also only imagine how exhausting it must've been to have Chapel constantly analyzing and commenting on L's behavior, even the smallest things like a change in his breathing- So it must've been incredibly liberating when he was allowed to cry for the first time in who-knows-how-long with nobody judging him during his first supper with Vash

I like with his little bit of character growth he's able to reach out to R to let him know that he understood that he'd relied on R too much, the result being that L had ended up treating them both poorly- indicative that he can be open and deep with others (albeit maybe not at the best of times lololol)

That being said- Razlo does a terrible job with handling his own emotions and even admits that he is no good when it comes to having deep discussions- I tend to think that he is made incredibly uncomfortable by being upset/sad, and is someone who is very difficult to console or comfort, as when he's made upset its a big outburst of emotions boiling over- borderline being a temper-tantrum

Tend to also think that he also has a very difficult time with processing with feelings of love/joy geared towards him from others, as its not something he's ever really experienced growing up with others- but tends to constantly seek validation anyways despite being unable to interpolate it very well

What's neat tho even with his very brief appearances in the manga that even as a very aggressive character we can see that he's got a broad range, more than capable of being at the very least sympathetic (ie w/ WW getting his ass beat for a bit) and is very very very lonely-

#i love them as characters so so much #trigun #trigun maximum #livio the double fang #razlo the trip of death #razlo the tri punisher of death #trigun manga #drawing #sketch #digital art #art #fan art #trimax

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janeyseymour · 3 months

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Tough Philly Girl- pt 2

Summary: Melissa has always been tough. Why? She'll tell you.

Part 1

WC: ~2.2k

“Well,” you sigh as Melissa stares at her feet now that she’s in the hotel room. You’ve since given her a towel to dry off, and she’s sitting across from you at the desk while you sit on your bed. It’s been five minutes since either of you have said anything. “I’m waiting.”

“I know, I know,” she grumbles. “I’m just… nervous.”

“For what?”

“My vulnerability,” she admits quietly. “That I’m going to tell you all of this, and you’ll still leave.”

“Have some faith in me, Schemmenti,” you roll your eyes. “Or don’t. I don’t really care anymore. This better be good.”

“It all started when… when I was little,” she starts.

—

Melissa was four years old. Four years old when this all started. Kristen Marie had just been born, and Melissa Ann was no longer the baby of the family. Her parents were always exhausted and preoccupied with the baby, and all the little redhead wanted was her father to play tea party with her like he usually did.

“Not now, Melissa,” he would say as he cracked open a beer. Being a persistent little girl, she continued to ask. “I said, not now,” he would grit through his teeth.

Melissa shriveled away, tears blooming in her eyes as she made her way to her bedroom. Her father came into her room a few minutes later to chastise her for crying.

“You’re not a baby anymore, and big four year olds don’t cry,” he huffed. That only made her cry harder.

Melissa was used to being the center of attention in her family when it came to gatherings at Nonna’s house. But now nobody gave her a second glance as they all gathered around her mother to fawn over Kristen Marie.

“Nonna!” the little redhead squeaked, trying to get her grandmother’s attention. She couldn’t get it though, and she immediately burst into tears- despite her willing herself not to cry. She couldn’t help it. Her small body held a lot of big emotions. She stormed off into the other room, grumbling as she went, and before she could stop herself, she threw her doll. It hit the wall with a loud thud before crashing down to the floor.

“Stupid Kristen Marie,” she muttered to herself. She heard footsteps approach, and it was Nonna. The warm loving eyes that were usually looking at her granddaughter were filled with fire though.

“Melissa Ann Schemmenti,” her grandmother barked, and the redhead immediately knew she was in trouble. After quite a stern talking to from Nonna, and a few punishments, Melissa knew her place- she was no longer the baby of the family. She was a big girl now- and big girls don’t cry.

From that day on, Melissa knew to put her walls up and knew not to shed tears around her family, even with all of the drama. And as she got older, she would only realize that her family held way more drama than she could ever imagine.

—

At five, Melissa was diagnosed with dyslexia. Her reading skills were never quite up to where her peers were, and she realized the words and letters moved around on the page to the point that she couldn’t make sense of anything. Letters were upside down, they were backwards, they were all over. Her eyesight was tested, but she could see just fine. When they did the different benchmark tests, her score in knowing the sounds for each letter was perfect, but she could hardly identify the looks of the letters. So they had her tested for dyslexia.

She overheard her father and mother talking one night.

“Stupid kid,” her dad grumbled.

“She isn’t stupid,” her mother argued. “She’s just challenged, and she’ll need to hunker down to be like the rest of her peers.

“That shit won’t work,” he groaned. “We’ve just got a dumb kid on our hands. Hopefully Kristen Marie will be the smart one in the family.”

She should’ve been in bed, and had she, she never would’ve known what her father thought of her. But that night, she vowed to herself that she would fight to be able to read, and even excel.

—

Growing up in an Italian family when you were expected to be a small, stick thin girl (even at a young age) was tough. Nonna fed everybody like it was her job, and Mom made sure her girls ate hearty servings of everything. Melissa kept the weight, while it didn’t matter how much food Kristen Marie was given- she never gained a pound. She was a stick, even at the young age of four.

The redhead was eight when she wanted to join dance classes. Of course. Kristen Marie also wanted to do dance because, “If Melly is, I wanna too!”

So, Mom signed both girls up for dance lessons, despite Dad saying that it was a waste of time and money. The girls went down to the thrift store to find some used dance attire, and then they headed for local dance studio that their own mother went to.

Upon entering, Melissa couldn’t be more excited. She was practically bouncing on her toes with excitement as she walked through thee front door to the studio. That was the first and only time she would enter that place with a grin.

“The little one can dance,” the Russian woman looked over Kristen Marie. She then glanced at the redhead with a look of distain. “She cannot. She is too big.”

“But you have classes for eight year olds,” Mom pointed out.

“She is too big,” the teacher stressed again. Now Mom understood. She gave Melissa a shrug. The redhead acted like she couldn’t care less despite that fact that her chest was aching and her heart was breaking inside of her little body. Her mother marched the older sister out, but left Kristen Marie to attend the lesson. Her younger sister quit two weeks later.

—

At nine, Melissa’s parents got divorced. She took it hard. But big girls don’t cry. So she didn’t mourn her parents’ marriage ending. And with the divorce went the house. That meant moving into two different apartment complexes and being shuffled from one place to the other every other week.

Her parents weren’t home as often, and she rarely saw either of them. She was forced to take care of Kristen Marie more and more often. Her comfort food was bread and butter with cinnamon.

—

At ten, she realized if she didn’t learn how to cook, she and Kristen Marie would starve- or survive off of bread, butter, and cinnamon. So Melissa taught herself how to cook. It was easy, in all actuality. The redhead had watched Nonna cook for the longest time. Quickly, Melissa and Kristen Marie were eating well again- so long as Mom and Dad were stocking up on food. She would make sure the two of them were fed properly- and thus began her love of cooking.

—

When Melissa was fifteen, she started dating. The boys in her school had started to take notice to the fact that she had quite a body for a young thing. Repeatedly, she would be pressured into various activities that she did not particularly want to partake in. She never let it get to her though. She allowed herself to be used, abused- she saw Mom handle it, so she could too. She was a Schemmenti after all.

With one particular boyfriend, he would constantly point out all of her quirks- things she didn’t even realize she did until he pointed it out.

“Jesus, Mel,” the teen rolled his eyes.

“What?” she asked.

“Can you stop doing that?”

“Doing what?” she glared at him.

“That.” He pointed to the way that her knee was bouncing incessantly, and she was playing with the fraying ends of her denim jacket.

“I’m not doing anything,” she sighs.

“All I’m trying to do is hold you, but you can’t keep your damned body still!”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. It took everything in her to stay still for the rest of the night. She fought every instinct in her body, every itchy feeling, to sit still

(You don’t mind that she can never sit still. Usually, you’re bouncing right along next to her and are playing with her hands so the two of you can focus together. If that doesn’t work, the two of you go for a walk.)

The redhead was telling a story, but she lost track of where she had started off and was now off on a tangent about god knows what.

“Can you make your point already?”

“I’m getting there!” She scrunches her nose while she tries to figure out what made her start talking about cooking pasta the right way in the first place (it was the idea of feminism).

(You love when she does this. She gets so passionate about everything that she’s talking about, and it makes you grin when she finally figures out where her story was headed in the first place.)

“Why do you constantly mumble to yourself?” he rolled his eyes once again at her.

“What?” she breathed as she made dinner for herself, her boyfriend, and her younger sister that night. She mutters a few things under her breath as she stirs the contents in the sauce pan.

“Like that!”

“I-” Her face turned a bright shade of red. “I don’t know. I just- have to get my thoughts out, and sometimes it helps if I say what I’m doing so I stay focused.”

“You’re so weird.”

(You don’t mind when she does any of this. You know it helps her stay on task, and her voice mesmerizes you anyway, so the more you get to hear it, the better.)

For the rest of that relationship, she fought to hold back those little stims.

Two months later, she would be tested for ADHD and come back positive.

—

Melissa and Joe had married when she was young. It was foolish love, but it was love nonetheless. About a year in, they began to have issues.

She suggested couples counseling because she was going to fight for this marriage- leave it to Melissa to always fight the fight.

Joe flat out refused. He came clean and told her that he was sleeping with Jolene, and that he was in love with Jolene.

Melissa had the divorce papers the next day. She also had a good amount of gasoline.

Barbara was there to pick up the pieces- to convince the redhead to continue on with life and to be the badass woman that Melissa Schemmenti was- is.

—

Nonna got sick. And Kristen Marie ran.

“It’s too hard for me to see her like that, Melissa!” her younger sister had yelled at her before turning on her heel and leaving.

So Melissa stayed. She took care of Nonna until her last days. She stayed right there with her family.

And then at the funeral, her sister showed up with a dish that would quite literally end up in flames. Melissa fought that fight. Kristen Marie had gone too far. First, leaving when it got too hard- not very Schemmenti-like if you asked the redhead. And then she had the audacity to show up at the funeral with her beloved Nonna’s signature dish- and it was wrong.

She wouldn’t speak to her sister again until their paths crossed through the schools. And even then, she fought that pretty hard. And then, when they had to… the Schemmenti sisters would join forces again and fight the fight together.

—

Gary was a joke. But she still fought that fight. She lost.

—

And then you came around. You shook up her whole world and changed her life. She fought herself and her feelings for you for about six months before you finally said something to her. She fought the different stims that had slowly made their way back into her life- convinced that you would leave her or think she was weird for always having to bounce her leg, never being able to sit still.

Slowly, with a lot of reassurance from you, you told her to stop fighting it all. Stop fighting against herself and the things that made her who she was. So she did, and the two of you fell absolutely head over heels in love.

—

“And now you’re trying to leave me,” Melissa whispers. “And I don’t want that. So, I’m fighting for you. I don’t want you to be the one that got away.”

You stare at her for quite some time. It makes sense why she was always so guarded now. Her life was tough, from the start. You had no idea.

“Mel,” you sigh softly.

“Please,” her voice cracks just slightly, and she has tears welled up in her eyes. “Please let me fight for you. This is one fight I actually want.”

This is the most emotion you’ve ever seen from your girlfriend, and you honestly hate seeing it. It’s shattering your heart in your chest.

You stand from your bed and make your way over to the chair she’s sitting in before wrapping your arms around her gently.

The dam breaks, and your girlfriend softly weeps into your chest. “Please don’t go. Please.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promise her gently. “I’m fighting for you, my tough Philly girl.”

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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roosterforme · 1 year

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Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You do your best not to let Phoebe and Jeff derail how perfect your weekend with Bradley has been. After dinner, the two of you start asking what comes next, and you take him to a spot on campus he has dreamed about but never seen before.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swears, and angst

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

You should have known the two of them would be here to ruin your perfect night with Bradley. Your perfect weekend, really. But it was nearly impossible for you to think back on your time with Bradley ten years ago without Jeff and Phoebe popping up.

You tilted your face to look up at Bradley again, but his eyes were still focused across the room. "It's okay, Beer Boy. Let's get a drink."

Bradley turned toward you and nodded, and you ordered two beers from the bartender and handed him one. He laced his fingers through yours and let you guide him back toward the table where you had set down your bag.

"Sorry. I just haven't seen or talked to either of them since I left for Rhode Island. Crazy."

"I wish we didn't have to see them now, either," you said, glancing over to their table again. You kissed Bradley's lips and whispered, "I will physically fight Phoebe if she tries to touch you."

Bradley laughed at that, and you smiled too. "You always were a little scrappy," he said. "But I don't think either of them could hurt me now, even if they wanted to. Which I certainly hope they don't."

"They better not."

You couldn't stop stealing glances at them though. Jeff looked exhausted, and he was losing his hair. Phoebe still looked pretty enough, you supposed, but she appeared to be with her husband who was plainly ignoring her and staring at his phone. And it looked like her hair was brittle and crispy from dying it several shades lighter than it used to be.

Both of them looked miserable. Maybe they should have married each other.

"Bradshaw!" came a booming voice, and you watched Bradley stand and accept a hug from Tyson.

"Hey, man. It's been awhile," Bradley said as you stood up as well. "Is your wife here?"

You watched Tyson's eyes grow to the size of saucers, and Bradley casually reached for your hand.

"No," Tyson said, still looking at you in surprise. "She's pregnant again and not feeling well. Decided not to come at the last minute." He smiled softly at you before glaring at Bradley. "Hey, why didn't you tell me you two were together again?"

Bradley cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, we're not-"

"It's recent," you blurted out, earning a surprised look from Bradley. "It's good to see you, Ty."

"Yeah.... damn. This is such a flashback!" he said. "Bradley moped for months after you dumped him. But I guess you know all about that now."

You squeezed Bradley's hand tighter, but he was still looking at you like he wasn't sure what was going on.

"I can assure you that I also moped for months," you told Tyson, letting out a shaky breath. "You guys chat, I see someone else I know."

There was in fact nobody else that you recognized, but you needed a moment to yourself. Why did you insinuate that you and Bradley were together again? You weren't together. If he wanted you in that way, he would have told you where he lived. He'd had a full day to do so. And now he was flying home in the morning.

You felt like leaving before you could start crying. You were going to ruin what was left of your time with him if you couldn't accept this for what it was: one perfect reunion weekend with your first love.

"I thought that was you."

You spun around and almost bumped into Jeff. He was staring at your cleavage as you moved your beer bottle in front of yourself to try to block his view.

"Hi," you managed to say, but you couldn't bring yourself to smile like he was.

"You look great."

Since the same could not be said about him, you just kind of shrugged. "Thanks."

"I can't believe you're still with Bradshaw."

You took a deep breath. "He's wonderful," you managed to say. "What are you doing these days?"

"Oh, selling used cars," he mumbled. "You?"

Your eyebrows shot up. He had the same math undergraduate degree as you. "I work here. Teaching. Mostly computational physics and linear algebra, but I have a calculus lecture as well."

"Wow," he said, looking both annoyed and impressed.

"Yeah. Looking at some other schools for tenure positions for the fall."

"Must be nice," he mumbled.

You nodded and looked him square in the eyes. "I worked really hard."

When you noticed Jeff's eyes looking over your shoulder, you felt a warm hand on your lower back.

"Hey, Sugar," Bradley whispered in your ear, and you looked up at him over your shoulder.

"Hi, Beer Boy," you whispered back, and without a single glance in Jeff's direction, Bradley guided you back to your table, leaving Jeff gaping at the two of you.

"You okay?" he asked, pulling out your chair as dinner was about to be served.

"Of course. You didn't want to talk to your old buddy Jeff?"

Bradley rolled his eyes. "Fuck no. Figured you didn't really want to either."

You laughed and took his hand as he sat down. "You figured right."

Bradley raised your fingers to his lips and kissed them before reaching for the leg of your chair and pulling you closer to him. When your graduating class president and the dean of admission gave their speeches, Bradley wrapped his arm around you, and your head came to rest against his shoulder. Of course his fingers found your tattoo, blindly tracing along your skin there.

Your eyes found his when he smiled down at you. His impossibly handsome face and his warm, brown eyes and his perfect lips. How had you managed to go ten years without him? You reached up, stroking his mustache with your thumb until he was almost laughing.

You whispered, "Missed you," and then he was no longer smiling. He was looking at you intently when suddenly everyone was applauding for the finished speeches, and the waitstaff started rushing around with plates of salad.

So you ate your dinner with your thigh pressed up against Bradley's, sharing food off of each other's plates. You laughed at the throwback music the band was playing, and Bradley eventually went to get you both more beer.

Everything was comfortable in a way that you didn't know you were craving until you were experiencing it.

"Do you want to dance?" Bradley asked you as the band started up again and several people made their way to the center of the room.

"Yes," you replied, and he pulled you to your feet. He guided your arm over his shoulder with a smile and wrapped his hands around your waist. You traced his faded scars with your fingers while he sang along to the song.

"You have the best singing voice," you told him, your smile growing wide. "I forgot just how much I loved listening to it."

"Think they know any Grateful Dead?" he asked. "That was my favorite to sing to you."

"Remember when you made me watch like eighty four hours of their concert footage?"

Bradley rolled his eyes and pulled you fully against him. "It was only like a fifteen hour DVD, Sugar. And we didn't even make it all the way through."

You licked your lips. "You're right. We found a different way to occupy our time."

Bradley's face was earnest and open, but there was still a smile dancing along his lips. "We sure did that a lot, huh?"

You nodded and leaned up to kiss him before you said, "We've been doing it a lot since yesterday, too. This is one hell of a reunion weekend."

You watched the long scars on Bradley's neck as he swallowed. "Is that it though? Is this just for the weekend?" His eyes were searching your face intently.

The idea of ending things tomorrow morning was too much for you to take, but when you spoke your voice was tiny and unsure. "Do you want more?"

Bradley's eyes drifted closed and his hands slid up your back, holding you in place as his dancing slowed. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel his racing pulse beneath your fingers on his neck. After a pause, he was looking intently at you again.

"I wanted more ten years ago, Sugar."

The truth of his words stung you a bit. You'd wanted more, too. But you had also wanted him to get a chance to fulfill all of his other wishes and dreams, without making him feel tethered to you while you were so far away.

"But what about now?" you asked. Then you took a deep breath and forced yourself to add, "Why didn't you tell me you live in San Diego?" Your voice broke on the last words, and you could see the look of panic in Bradley's eyes.

"How did you know that?"

You tried to pull out of his grasp as you swiped at the tears welling in your eyes. "I saw your luggage tag. In the hotel room. You live in San Diego, and you weren't even going to tell me, were you?"

When you squirmed away, trying to put some space between you, he held you tight. "No. I wasn't going to tell you. Not yet."

"Why not?" you asked, your voice barely audible over the sound of the band. "You don't want me now."

"That's not it!" he insisted loudly. "Sugar. Come on, baby. That's not it."

You just shrugged helplessly and looked around the room, the colorful lights obscured by your tears. "What is it then?" you asked, not meeting his eyes.

He was stroking your cheek now, and although you tried your best not to, you could feel yourself melting into his touch. "Please look at me." You met his eyes and sniffed, and he kissed you softly, reverently, and you let him. "You're so smart, Sugar. And you work so hard." You watched him struggle with his words as so many other couples danced around you. "And I can't be responsible for derailing your career if Miami is a better choice for you. I can't do that."

"Bradley."

But he just shook his head. "No. You need to visit both schools. You need to remove me from this equation."

"But Bradley!"

"Sugar, you let me do what I needed to do ten years ago. It nearly fucking killed me at first, but I never blamed you for what you did. You kept me safe. And made sure I knew how you felt about me first. And you let me make my decisions for myself and not because I was focusing all my energy on you. It hurts me to say it, but thank you. And now you need to do the same thing for yourself."

You sucked in a deep breath. "And what if I choose San Diego? What if that's the right choice for me? Where does that leave us?"

Bradley smashed his lips against yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck once again. His kiss was demanding, but it ended as soon as it began. "Ask me that again after you make your decision. Either way, whatever your decision is, ask me again, okay?"

You nodded at him.

"And please forget about my luggage tag and my address and promise me you'll visit both schools."

"I will, Beer Boy. I promise."

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

Bradley held you tight in the middle of the dance floor, cradling your head against his chest and singing you another song. He was so close, once again, to telling you he loved you. He wanted you to know it, was pretty sure you already did, but he was too scared.

More than anything, he wanted you to choose San Diego. Because it was the right fit for you. Not because he was there. But he'd be lying to himself if he didn't want to play a part in your future plans.

"Beer Boy?" you finally asked him.

"Yeah, Sugar?"

You were smiling again. You seemed to be more at ease now that you got the information about his address off your chest.

"Can we go? This is nice and all, but I just want to be with you. Alone."

"Let's go," he replied without hesitation. "Should I call an Uber?"

You nodded as he reached for his phone, and he followed you willingly to grab your purse. "I'm going to run to the restroom. Meet me in the lobby?" you asked.

Bradley kissed your cheek. "Yep. Ride will be here in nine minutes."

You disappeared through the crowd, and Bradley made his way toward the lobby at a slower pace. He opened up the airline app when it prompted him to check in for his flight, but instead he started to scroll to see if there were any seats available on a later flight. He really needed to be back in San Diego tomorrow, but if he could stay with you for just a little bit longer....

"Bradley?"

He thought he was alone in the lobby. He knew that voice. He spun around and came face to face with Phoebe.

"Hi," he managed. "Phoebe."

"Wow," she sighed. "You look great. Even better than you did ten years ago."

"Yeah? Thanks." He swallowed, his throat tight. It was hard to even look at her, even after all this time. This woman had fed into and also stunted his self esteem for nearly four years of his life.

"Your scars healed nicely."

"Oh," he muttered, brow furrowed.

"You know I didn't mean it that way, Bradley," she said quickly, taking another step into his personal space. "They never bothered me before."

He ran one hand down along his face. "I'm not doing this with you, Phoebe. I truly hope you've been well, but I'm not doing this."

Bradley started to walk away, but she reached out and stopped him with her hand on his chest.

"I owe you an apology."

He froze and looked down at her in shock.

She laughed bitterly. "I never could handle the rejection you gave me. But seeing you here with her? Still? My god, I feel sicker than ever over what I put you through. Sorry."

Bradley felt her patting his chest before she started to withdraw her hand. He stood completely still and then nodded and whispered, "Thank you."

He could hear your heels on the floor and sense your presence before he saw you, but instantly you were at his side, linking your arm through his.

You made a show of running your thumb along his mustache before tilting his head down and kissing him, and he let you do it. "Hi, Sugar," he whispered when you released his lips.

Bradley watched you turn toward a bitter looking Phoebe and say, "Oh. You'll have to excuse us. We were just leaving." Then you tugged on Bradley's arm and led him toward the exit. "I saw her touch you," you whispered. "I didn't like that."

"No? What are you going to do about it, Sugar?"

You just smirked as he pointed out the car that had arrived to pick you up. "I'm going to take us on a little detour. That's what I'm going to do about it."

He opened the car door for you, and you gave a different address to the driver while you scooted across the back seat so Bradley could climb in as well.

"Where are we going, Sugar?" he whispered next to your ear before kissing you there.

You were practically crawling into his lap when you said, "My office."

Bradley had pictured many times how you might look working in your very own office in academia. He figured all the college guys would be swarming your office hours to spend a little extra time basking in your presence. He also just knew you'd be a great teacher, one who graded everything farily. But getting to see your actual office? Mess around in it, perhaps?

He grabbed your chin and kissed you so hard you squeaked. But his phone started vibrating in his pocket against your leg. He yanked it out without breaking your kiss, and just wanted to silence it.

"Oh, it's Nat," you whispered, pulling away from him and looking at the screen.

Bradley grunted and quickly opened the text thread from one of the few people in his life who consistently talked to him on a daily basis.

Phoenix: How's your class reunion going? Haven't heard from you since yesterday morning!

When the car stopped at a traffic light, and Bradley looked at your face all lit up from the street lights, he put his arm around you. "Mind if I send her a picture?" he asked.

You just smiled and said, "Okay, Beer Boy."

He snapped a few selfies of the two of you all cozy in the backseat, including one with your head resting on his shoulder and another one with your lips pressed to his cheek.

Quickly, he sent two of them back to Nat and then got his lips right back on yours.

"Almost there," you whispered, pulling away briefly before licking Bradley's lips with the tip of your tongue. His black suit pants felt extremely tight at the moment the car pulled up to the curb in front of the building where Bradley used to walk you to your lab class.

He helped you out of the car, and his phone started vibrating in his hand.

Phoenix: OH MY GOD BRADLEY IS THAT SUGAR?

Phoenix: ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW.

Phoenix: IT'S HER. ISN'T IT? SHE IS STILL FUCKING BEAUTIFUL AND YOU LOOK SO HAPPY.

Phoenix: WHY AREN'T YOU WRITING BACK?

Phoenix: OH MY GOD, ARE YOU FUCKING? I AM SO SORRY! TEXT ME BACK LATER.

Bradley tossed one arm around your shoulders and let you read the screen along with him. You started cracking up. "Is it okay if I respond?" you asked, a huge smile on your face.

"Of course," Bradley replied, and he used the ID card you handed him to unlock the building, holding the door open for you to enter.

"This way," you murmured with a soft laugh as Bradley followed you to the elevator bank, keeping his hand on the small of your back.

As you stepped into the elevator with him right behind you, he watched you send a message to Nat and then hand his phone back to him. He glanced at the screen.

You think I'm beautiful? Bradley was showing me a bunch of pictures, and I think you're stunning! I'm having the best weekend of my life, but I promise I'll return him to you in one piece. It's the least I can do after you've taken care of him all these years.

Bradley's heart was pounding in his ears as the elevator arrived on the eighth floor. "This is the best weekend of your life?" he asked as you laced your fingers through his and led him down the dimly lit hallway.

"You know, it's not nice to read other people's conversations, Beer Boy," you said with a smirk as you used your ID card to unlock your office door.

He looked at his phone again.

Phoenix: YOU CAN KEEP HIM! PLEASE KEEP HIM! I'LL SEND HIS FEEDING SCHEDULE AND HIS VACCINATION RECORDS.

Bradley put his phone away with a grin and let you lead him into your tiny office. Two walls were lined with shelves, one wall had a window with a view of the cafeteria, and your desk was right in the middle of the floor. Most of your things seemed to be packed in the cardboard boxes that were stacked up next to the door.

"Well, this is my office. What do you think?" you asked, shrugging and spinning in a small circle. You looked perfect in your dress, with your tattoos and your mussed up hair.

"I think...." he began, licking his lips as you planted your palms against his chest. "I think this is the best weekend of my life, too."

Your breathing was a little shallow as you looked up at him and nodded. "What are we supposed to do about it?" you whispered.

Bradley kissed you softly. "You promised me."

You pulled him closer to you, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss. "I know," you murmured against his mouth, and soon he was tasting you, his tongue gently sweeping against yours. Your fingers scraped along the short hair at the back of his neck as you nibbled on his lips and gasped when he stroked your tattoos.

Every little sensation, everything that was specifically you had him aching for more. There was no way he could be without you now. He didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do.

You broke away from his kisses and pressed yourself against his erection. "I have an idea, Beer Boy. What's your Professor Sugar office fantasy?"

He groaned, a deep, needy sound from the very back of his throat. You were gasping in his arms, mouth agape before he even said anything. "We really gonna do that?" he asked you, his voice raspy and broken as you stared up at him with wide eyes. "Because I've been thinking about that for a very, very long time, Sugar."

Bradley eased his fingers along your bare shoulder and up your neck, digging them into the back of your head a little bit, forcing your eyes to remain on his. "Yes," you agreed, already looking like you were in a daze. "I sometimes think about you when I'm alone in here. So it only seems appropriate."

He kissed you hard until you were moaning into his mouth. He wanted you in every way imaginable, all the time. But right now he wanted it sweet and slow and impossibly hot as he showed you just what he thought about when you were on his mind and his dick was in his hand.

He grabbed you by the hips and guided you backward until you met your desk. Then he spun you around and helped you grab onto the edge of your desk, listening to your hitching breaths and rubbing himself along your backside. "I need you to know," he whispered, pushing your hair away from your ear, "that I'll be thinking about this for the rest of my life."

"Bradley," you groaned as he kissed along the back of your neck, sucking on your sweet skin until you were bucking back against him.

"Fuck." He reached around to the front of your dress, taking the fabric on either side of the slit and bunching it up in his hands. Then he slowly guided it up around your waist and held it tight with his left hand. "I'd love to fuck you like this, Doctor Sugar," he whispered, running his nose behind your ear. "But with the finesse and restraint I did not possess when I was a student."

"Oh my god, Bradley!" Your voice sounded lighter than air in this small room, your bodies only lit up by the exterior campus lights that filtered through the window.

He looped one finger through the elastic of the tiny underwear you had on and started to yank it down over your hips, sucking in a harsh breath as you wiggled against him until they were sliding down your legs. Bradley watched the lace land on the tops of your high heels, and then he was unbuttoning and unzipping his pants with his right hand. He eased his pants and underwear down to his thighs and bent you a little bit at the waist with his large frame.

"You're always soaking wet for me," he gasped as he reached around and slid his fingers against your slit. "You get like this for anyone else?"

"No!" you squeaked as he sunk two fingers inside you without any warning.

"Just me? You'd get this wet if I was sitting in one of your classes, watching you teach? Soaking through your underwear, squeezing your thighs together in your short, little skirt?"

"Oh god, yes," you groaned, and he pumped his fingers in and out you hard, until you were practically screaming.

When he slowed his pace again, stroking your clit, he told you, "I'd sit in your class and touch myself. I don't think I would be able to help it, Sugar." He held you firmly against him, pulling his fingers out and leaving you whining before coating his cock with your wetness. He nudged your legs apart with his knee and then guided himself to your entrance, your body welcoming him so sweetly as he bottomed out in one movement.

Your head was tipped back, and he ran his slick fingers up your neck and between your parted lips. The feel of your tongue swirling along his fingertips and the vibrations of your moans had him shoving his fingers a little deeper. You moaned and whined as you cleaned his fingers while he fucked you at a steady pace.

"What would I have to do to get an A in your class, Doctor Sugar?" You sucked on his fingers for another beat before he removed them from your mouth and grasped your chin instead.

"I'd make you stay after class," you gasped. "Watch you touch yourself for me."

"Fuck, fuck!" Bradley growled, slamming into you harder, his left hand gripping your hip. He pulled you by your chin and the front of your neck, arching your back until you were whimpering, meeting his movements stroke for stroke. He could feel you fluttering around him, and he eased his big hand down over your breasts and your tummy until they met your clit. He gave you a sharp squeeze, and this time you did scream before he soothed you with his fingers.

"I'm gonna cum," you cried, squeezing around him, but Bradley withdrew completely and spun you to face him. You looked up at him, shocked, and he pushed you back to sit on your desk, grabbing your thighs and thrusting into you again.

You leaned back on both hands, eyes on his as your legs shook gently in his hands. Bradley leaned down and kissed you softly, and you smiled against his lips. He moved a little slower as you came for him, drawing out your orgasm and sucking on your neck as you chanted his name like a prayer.

Then you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him snug against you as his thrusts grew shallow. "You gonna cum for me, Beer Boy? You gonna earn top marks? Be the teacher's pet?" you purred. And he kissed your mouth and your cheeks and your chin, memorizing the feel of your lips against his mustache as you whined.

He filled you up, moving inside you until he was no longer dizzy with need. Bradley took your face gently in his hands, satisfied and so in love with you.

"Sugar," he whispered, your body still intimately connected with his. "I l-"

There was a loud knock on the door. "Hello? It's Ted. From security."

"Oh shit," you hissed, sliding off the desk and shimmying your dress back down. You looked so alarmed, Bradley had to stifle his laughter as he zipped up his pants and straightened out the rest of his suit. Then he groaned when you turned on the overhead lights.

"Uh, hang on, Ted!" you called, kicking your underwear loose from your shoes. Bradley bent and picked them up, shoving them into his pocket as you opened the door a few inches. "Hi, Ted!"

Bradley heard the security guard's voice. "Oh, it's you, professor! I heard a lot of noise, and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Everything is fine!"

There was a pause, and Bradley watched your shoulders tense up. "Are you alone?" Ted asked. "If you're not okay, I can help you."

You sighed deeply and tipped your head back before pushing the door open wide, revealing Bradley where he was leaning against your desk with both hands in his pockets.

"Hey, Ted," he said with a smile, and he got to watch the much older man flush crimson as he looked back and forth between the two of you. "Everything is just fine in here."

You pressed your lips together and also nodded at Ted.

"Right, okay, well. You have a great night, professor," he told you before tucking his radio back into his pocket and hustling away.

You turned to look at Bradley with your hand over your mouth, and Bradley started absolutely cracking up. "Sorry, Sugar, but Ted's never going to look at you the same way again."

You lightly hit his abs, and Bradley pulled you into his arms. "I guess it's a good thing I'm technically only working here for two more weeks," you groaned against his neck. "Poor Ted." Then you were laughing harder in his arms, and soon neither of you could stop.

Eventually, Bradley tilted your smiling face up to look at him. "I'm going to miss you so much, Sugar."

Your smile wavered a bit. "Can you stay longer?" you asked softly. "A few more days?"

He just shook his head and stroked your lip. "I'm leaving for a six week deployment on Monday."

"Oh," you sighed so sadly that Bradley immediately wanted to tell you he could stay for another week. Another month, just to be with you.

"Sorry, Sugar."

You took his hand in yours. "Then can we go back to my house? And snuggle?"

"Please."

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

Thanks for reading and loving these two! I just loved the texts with Phoenix! Beer Boy and Sugar have one more night together.... Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

PART 6

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ravenssilver · 5 months

Text

hello. welcome to raven succumbing to the voices.

aka 1.2k words of mountain realizing he’s emotionally neglected a lot of the time.

cw: dew gets emotionally spoiled, mountain has lots of trouble with his feelings, mountain lore👹

under the cut, if you please<3

Aether was gone.

Everyone was tentative around the subject, not wanting to trigger Dew into another fit of anger. Nobody really knew what Dew was mad at. It could’ve been Aether, the Ministry, himself—but nobody could say for sure due to how closed off Dew had been.

Swiss was always making jokes with Dew, wanting to distract him from the pain of not having one of his mates with them. Cumulus always got a fresh loaf of Dew’s favorite bread whenever they had a rest day, and everyone knew she’s rather be baking the loaf rather than buying it.

Cirrus was a silent comfort, in the shadows where Dew would hide, always willing to wrap her arms around him and whisper sweet nothings to the fire ghoul.

Rain, and by extension Aeon, were always there for Dew to rant to. And Aurora was more than happy to braid Dew’s hair whenever Rain initiated a mini spa night in whatever hotel the ghouls and their Papa were staying in that night.

And Mountain was tired of it.

He was tired of being the backbone, the one who constantly lifted everyone up when he was on the verge of crumbling himself. He was tired of watching everyone coddle Dew, and whisper with each other when the fire ghoul was asleep about oh, poor Dew—or—he’s been feeling better! Maybe he’s getting used to not having Aether around?

Mountain huffed behind his book, glaring over the tops of the pages at the fire ghoul sleeping on the tour bus couch.

He was tired of Dew being helped while he was tossed aside.

But he also felt like shit. He was feeling the same pain as Dew, yet here Mountain was acting childish, jealous over his mate who was getting the help that he needed.

But was it really being childish? Or was it realizing the mistakes of the pack, and how he felt being left in the dust when he needed support as well?

Mountain’s glare softened as he felt thorns growing from around his antlers. He slouched down a bit in the table booth, hiding his face behind his book until he could control the tears welling in his eyes.

He just wanted Aether back.

It wasn’t often Mountain was late to pre-show roll call. But tonight?

He was just so tired.

Mountain’s body was now facing the effects of being stressed out and emotionally worn. His stomach was constantly churning, he had an ever present ache right behind his eyes that never seemed to go away, his back was rigid and it hurt to move.

He was sore, and he knew he life was about to get a whole lot more exhausting after tonight’s ritual.

“Mountain?”

The earth giant blinked behind his goggles and looked down, seeing Aurora. Her much smaller hand was picking his up, a frown on her face as she felt how heavy his arm was, his exhaustion clearly echoed in the way he was holding himself.

“Hi.”

“Are you okay? You seem tired. Your ritual jitters aren’t as noticeable as usual,” Aurora spoke softly, reading the shaking of his hand as just simple jitters.

If only.

“I’m fine. Ready for the rest day we have tomorrow.” Mountain said simply, his face emotionless as he looked down at Aurora. His neck screamed at him as he looked down at her, the amount he had to strain his muscles almost laughable due to Aurora’s size compared to his.

Aurora nodded, a smile on her face.

“Me too.” She chuckled. She went to say more, but Papa cut her off, reeling in all the ghouls for the pre-show huddle.

Mountain sighed and stiffly walked over, taking note of how Rain, Swiss, and Aeon all walked over with Dew huddled between them.

His eyes narrowed as he watched how Aeon gave Dew a small buzz of quintessence to give him an energy boost. Mountain grumbled silently, knowing he could’ve used that small amount of energy much more than Dew.

But who was he to demand Dew stops getting the attention and support that he had been drowned in the for the whole tour?

A soft sigh left Mountain as he joined the huddle, tuning out Copia’s words.

Tomorrow.

Resting tomorrow will help.

He hated his sleep schedule.

Mountain was up with the sun the next day, and no amount of keeping his eyes closed lulled him back to sleep.

Mountain huffed and rolled onto his side, opening his eyes and discovering he hated something a lot more than his God forsaken sleep schedule.

Swiss was in the bed two feet away from him.

As well as Dew, Rain, and Aeon.

A low, earth rumbling growl left Mountain and he was immediately standing up, roughly unzipping his travel bag and pulling out some regular street clothes, his toothpaste and toothbrush, and his hairbrush. He grumbled as he walked to the bathroom, quickly getting ready for the day before he tossed his pajamas and hygienics onto the bed.

Mountain grabbed his phone and a room key before storming out of the room, ignoring how his now glamoured body complained with each step he took.

He didn’t know where he was going. He wasn’t even sure which city he was in.

He just needed to leave.

He turned his phone off after a while. The constant buzzing was getting on his nerves, and he had gotten close to tossing his phone on the sidewalk and letting it get trampled by the crowd.

He was so mad. The anger was only growing as Mountain realized how childish he was being.

He decided he needed to punch something. Hard enough to break whatever faced his wrath.

He wanted to indulge. He wanted to allow himself the brief respite that would be bruising his knuckles as his fists slammed down over, and over, and over, and over again.

Damned Beelzebub..

Mountain huffed and turned on his heel, walking back to the hotel and praying to his Lord below that he would be calm by the time he finished the fourteen block walk.

He just wanted to feel normal again.

Maybe he just wanted to be noticed.

Mountain listened to the quiet snores of Swiss and Rain, ignoring the growling voice in the back of his mind that was reminding him Dew had a key to the hotel room.

He didn’t want to be mad at Dew, and after lots of thinking, he realized he wasn’t. Envious, for sure, but he didn’t blame Dew, despite how much he wanted Dew to feel the hurt that he had been feeling. He wasn’t jealous anymore.

Mountain sighed as he looked over at Swiss and Rain.

He knew he could join them. He could start an unofficial and unannounced ghoul pile, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to see any more of the pack until he had to.

He was mad at them for forgetting him. He was mad at them for leaving him in the shadows and putting Dew in the limelight of their care and attention.

Tears welled in Mountain’s eyes as he realized what he was actually upset about.

He rolled onto his side, facing the wall so he could have some resemblance of dignity as he begrudgingly let tears fall.

He was an afterthought.

And he had reached his limit.

Mountain curled into himself and buried his nose into his knees, whining quietly as his back screamed in pain yet again.

This rest day wasn’t very restful.

#ghost band #the band ghost #ghost the band #ravenssilver writes #nameless ghouls #dew ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #my lovely mountain #I show my love through tormenting my favs #oh also #mountain’s a sin of gluttony #only if you squint

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she-is-ovarit · 8 months

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This is for all the younger gen Z women, particularly those of you within the ages of 17 to roughly 23. This is written from an American perspective, things might be a little different depending on where you're from.

I graduated high school with the unconscious assumption that certain systems will take care of me. The medical system would educate me on proper nutrition and health issues was probably my largest underlying assumption, but really I just had trust in institutions generally.

This isn't true. You are responsible for learning. As an example, I have been vegetarian since age 14. Nobody talked to me about proper nutrition, they just told me I needed to eat more protein.

I lived a decade of my life having shortness of breath, sleeping issues, clumsiness, cold hands and feet, having brain fog, extreme fatigue, heightened anxiety, etc. My period was extremely light and brown, it'd last for about 2 or so days. I'd go and talk about these problems, and telling doctors that I was vegetarian was one of the first things that came out of my mouth just with any visit because I knew at least that piece was important to communicate.

There was really no action taken over the span of about 10 years. I was told the period thing was normal, that changes for women. A sleep specialist let me know that feeling exhausted was also normal. The brain fog was probably due to anxiety. Here, try allergy medication (tbh that did help for other reasons). Then one day I just asked them to check my vitamin and mineral levels. Prior to this I didn't think you can make requests to doctors, I thought you showed up and they performed tests on what they recommended. With some reluctance from my primary care physician and some compromise because she said my insurance wouldn't cover testing things like B12 levels (I later found out from a nurse that, they would, she would have just needed to fill out extra paperwork), she did some tests.

I found out both my iron and D3 levels were low. What else could be?

I later learned pretty much all the vitamins common to be low for vegetarians were low. D3, magnesium, vitamin Bs, iron, and healthy fats. Bought some liquid vitamins (because the body only absorbs 10% of the pill supplements), began eating an avocado a day, my period became normal for the first time in nine years, and I am able to function.

Another example of how human systems won't educate you: I don't have feeling in some of my toes due to wearing incorrect sized footwear for years resulting in permanent nerve damage. I'm size 11.5 in women's, and I was relying on someone to tell me how proper footwear worked, because surely the guy in the minimum wage position working the footwear section would know.

Don't trust human systems to guide you through how certain things work. Seek specific specialists and experts when you can, and inform yourself on your own. Don't blindly trust search engines like Google, it's not like how it used to be when I was growing up and many millennial adults will tell you to "just google things" because we're used to finding actual substantive answers when we do. However, now, usually whoever pays is who makes the first page or two of search engines, it has nothing to do with what information is "most correct". Don't be afraid to request certain tests be done by doctors or certain referrals made to different specialists.

Edit: And also, I've found general practitioners are terrible when you walk in and tell them about several different symptoms at one time. They're more used to treating one symptom at a time, and they treat the symptom not the root cause. If you go in with a runny nose, general practitioners are going to throw medications at you to try and treat the runny nose, not look deeper into what's causing the runny nose. It's equivalent to if you're in a boat and it's sinking, they're bailing out water without actually fixing the hole or trying to figure out where it is, with the exception of emergency situations and even then it depends.

#tangent #health #nutrition #gen z #medical system #healthcare #women's health

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thisisramztrying · 7 months

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I’m writing poems about a boy who’s not dreaming of me

#childhood trauma #poetry #love #friendship #nobody said growing up would be this exhausting #growing up #growing up is chaotic #i wonder what i did to deserve this #sad thoughts #taylor swift

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gyundo · 1 year

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“My Temptation”

Choi Soobin (Soobin) x Male Reader

SMUT! DNI if under 18

Hyung kink, musk kink, size kink, muscle kink

Plot: Choi Soobin, the most kindest and sweetest person Y/N couldn’t even have dreamt of, walked right into both his heart and his life one fine afternoon. Attraction and love blossom, creating a masterpiece of an evening.

Y/N had always remembered being lonely and feeling neglected for a number of years. His father had always been working to allow a good lifestyle for his son, while his mother, due to not wanting to raise a child, had left him before he could remember.

Y/N, growing up as a child with a father too exhausted to play with him, now was in college, but still living at home. He couldn’t move out because he had nobody but his father, and he also felt lonely due to not being able to make any friends in college. Accustomed to the loneliness, he just didn’t know how to make friends quickly and often stayed away from too much socialization.

While studying in the library one afternoon, Y/N’s eyes were caught by a very handsome stranger. He had never seen him before, but his eyes looked full of purity and cleanliness. His lips, although plump, seemed like they had been painted by the worlds most talented artists. With perfect corners and transition from thick tissue to thin, Y/N realized he had never even seen a girl with such beautiful lips.

His nose, also beautiful and uniquely shaped, attracted him even more, while the smile of the man, who seemed to have solved a particularly difficult problem on his iPad, absolutely stole Y/N’s heart.

Y/N fiercely wanted to bring himself to talk to the boy whose radiating beauty was unmatched, but this was not necessary.

The handsome stranger, having adept peripheral vision, had noticed Y/N looking at him for quite some time. Feeling alone at college himself and looking for friends, he got up and walked to Y/N’s table.

“Hey, can I sit here. You seem a bit lonely?” Soobin questioned, hopefully.

“Um-Uh- Please do. I’m Y/N by the way, I live close by and I’m a sociology major,” the former blurted out. His eyes looked nervous, still processing Soobin’s height and how it added to his already impressive qualities.

Aware of Y/N’s clear attraction to him, Soobin swiftly replied, “Yeah, I’d like to sit next to you too. My name’s Soobin, and I’m a second year music major. You’re handsome, by the way”.

Y/N’s face immediately turned red and he turned away, embarrassed by Soobin’s words but attracted to him even more. Y/N was absolutely flustered that Soobin thought he was handsome, and Y/N felt a strange desire to become very close with him.

Y/N was barely able to study, more focused on the attractive man in front of him, and Soobin caught him staring more than once, winking at him each time. This made Y/N blush even harder, knowing that Soobin knew Y/N was clearly attracted.

Aside from his face, Soobin’s toned arms seemed so perfect to Y/N, they were slender enough to compliment his height, while also clearly looking strong with a decent amount of visible veins. Y/N’s mind wandered as he thought about how Soobin slapping his ass while having sex would hurt because of his strength, but in a good way. He quickly looked up at the man, and Soobin knew Y/N had been fantasizing about him from how long he’d been staring at him.

Soobin wanted to tease Y/N even more, and to do this, he pretended he needed to stretch, leaning back to grab Y/N’s attention before stretching intentionally too far, revealing his abs.

The perfection of the shape of the lower two abs made drool literally come out of Y/N’s mouth, and he wanted to see more.

His ego satisfied by Y/N’s undeniable fascination, Soobin decided not to tease Y/N any further about his drooling.

Y/N said goodbye to Soobin a half-hour later with a heavy heart, as he had to arrive home early for an important matter that his father had asked him to come home early for.

“It’s funny that I have to leave right now, too. Can I get your number?” Soobin questioned Y/N.

Y/N, extremely excited that the older was interested in him, gave him his number and immediately checked all of his social media on the way home to make sure that Soobin wasn’t straight and just playing with him.

To Y/N’s luck, Soobin definitely appeared like he was genuinely interested in him, and he walked home briskly with a smile. He opened the door to see something he never would have imagined.

“Glad you arrived home safe, Y/N,” his father greeted, “The woman sitting on the right in front of me, Ahn Young, and I have been seeing each other for some time now, and we are going to get married next month. The young man on the left is Soobin, her son. He’s a year older than you and attends the same college. I know this is a lot for you to take in, but please take time to get to know Soobin and Ahn Young well, they’re great people”.

Y/N was more shocked to see Soobin at his home, who was his soon-to-be stepbrother, than he was to the news that his father was getting married.

Struggling for words, Y/N replied, “I’m so happy that you’ve found someone to make you feel whole again, dad. Ahn Young must really be a great woman if you’ve chosen her, and I openly welcome her and Soobin into our family. I’ll do my best to get to know both of them”.

Y/N’s father was extremely relieved, after fearing what Y/N’s reaction would be. Soobin stared at Y/N with a sexy smirk that only Y/N understood. They all ate dinner together, and Y/N, in a fashion to talk with Soobin about the recent developments, invited him to stay over for the night, a gesture that made all parties happy.

“So, um, I guess you’re my stepbrother now, Soobin,” Y/N said with mixed emotions. After a long time, Y/N found someone he really connected with and was feeling attracted to, but he was Y/N’s own stepbrother.

Soobin, wanting to show Y/N that the recent news was nothing to be saddened about, lifted his chin up, forcing Y/N to look into his eyes, whispering, “This is nothing more than a chance for us to get closer. We really should get to know each other better, don’t you think”. He said this all while biting his lip, making Y/N fall even more for him.

Y/N and Soobin slept peacefully that night, and before long, they started spending all their time together. Y/N lovingly began to call Soobin hyung, and they studied together, while also preparing for their parents’ wedding, which came sooner than expected.

The day of the wedding, Soobin and Y/N also became real stepbrothers, which meant they could finally do what stepbrothers do. They were both so happy to be in each other’s company, and soon, the family moved into a new home.

Unfortunately, due to wedding and honeymoon costs, the new house was a little bit on the smaller side, so Soobin and Y/N had to share not only their room, but what was Y/N’s old bed.

Y/N was very nervous about following boundaries between step-siblings, especially with Soobin being so attractive and purposely teasing Y/N too much.

While their parents went on their honeymoon, Soobin took the teasing up a notch. He began to purposely walk around the house shirtless, and enjoyed seeing the lustful expressions on Y/N’s face. Y/N kept trying to hide his attraction and maintain a sibling-like relationship, but Soobin wasn’t having it. He’d often sit a little too close to Y/N, purposely wearing short underwear around the house to show off his muscular thighs. Y/N wanted nothing more than to sit on Soobin’s thighs and ride his dick, but he managed to control himself once again.

Soobin intentionally began lifting weights in the middle of the living room to show off his strength to Y/N, and Y/N couldn’t get over how sexy Soobin looked with his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat that smelt a little like Soobin, a little bit of peach from his perfume, and a whole lot of manly musky testosterone that had Y/N’s lower body losing control.

He had to run into the bathroom more than once while seeing Soobin exercise, primarily to hide his very clear hard-on that Soobin knew he was the cause of. He intentionally gave Y/N a hug right after he was all done, and Y/N could feel all of ridges of Soobin’s abs that made him want to lick them all over. The pressure from his amazingly built pectoral muscles made Y/N go absolutely crazy, wanting him to feel Soobin’s body above him. But more than anything, the smell of Soobin’s sweetness mixed with musk made Y/N very visibly look like he was in a trance, as he could not help but sniff Soobin’s neck all over.

Soobin, extremely excited, could not wait for them to sleep in the same bed and to finally make Y/N his. As far as he had gotten from talking to Y/N, Y/N was a virgin and never had anyone even touch him, which only made excited Soobin. Soobin slowly pulled away from Y/N, but Y/N quickly pulled him back, touching his hands all over Soobin’s sweaty back and kissing him.

Y/N was so desperate for Soobin, he didn’t even realize that he had taken the initiative to kiss Soobin. Soobin delicately held up Y/N’s face and moved his tongue inside. Their tongues engaged in a beautiful dance that made Y/N moan in pleasure. He had never kissed before, and Soobin knew exactly how to make him feel good.

Despite a lack of any other action, Y/N had a very fucked-out expression when Soobin finally broke the kiss. As Y/N realized what he did, the thick string of saliva connecting the two’s mouths told the story loud and clear.

Y/N was embarrassed that he crossed the boundaries of a stepbrother relationship, but Soobin looked at him with desire. Y/N couldn’t help but feel horny at the sight of his half-naked stepbrother, whose body looked like that of a Greek god and whose bulge he couldn’t wait to explore.

Speechless from then until dinner, Y/N and Soobin ate in silence, both exchanging glances at each other until Soobin couldn’t take it any longer.

“N/n-ie, you didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted to kiss you too, that’s why I came so close to you in the first place,” Soobin explained.

“I get that hyung, but i’m really not sure if we should be doing that. I get that we really are attracted to each other, especially me, but that was before we became related. I’m really not sure what to do,” Y/N responded with a frown.

Soobin, knowing that actions speak louder than words, decided to show Y/N what their relationship should be later that night.

The two finished eating, and Y/N quickly got into bed. Soobin took off his boxers right in front of Y/N before getting in bed.

Y/N’s mouth watered as he was Soobin’s monstrously sized cock. So thick that it was two fingers wide when soft, and it was so long that it went almost halfway down Soobin’s huge thighs. Y/N couldn’t believe that every part of his stepbrother was a sin waiting to happen, and so he turned away from Soobin as he got into bed.

Soobin saw and knew Y/N’s reaction, so as he turned to Y/N’s side, he whispered, “Didn’t know a cock could be so big, Y/N?”

Y/N muttered, “Yes hyung, I’ve never seen one as big as yours. Everything on your body is so sexy and it’s so hard to control myself, especially when you’re in the same bed as me.

Soobin’s cock pressed up against Y/N’s bubble butt, and he felt its girth and length, along with its warmness, very clearly.

“You really don’t have to, my Y/N, my body belongs to you and yours does to me,” Soobin whispered again before proceeding to stealthily lick Y/N’s ear.

“F-fuck hyung, you’re really so hot. I can feel your dick right against me and it’s so enticing. I genuinely have never seen a man as hot as you, you make me too horny. Help me now hyung,” Y/N said with pure lust, no longer able to think logically after knowing a naked Soobin, ready to breed him, was lying down close to him.

Y/N felt Soobin’s cock grow larger against his ass, and he responded by moving his ass up and down.

“Hah, Y/N, you’re so cute and breedable, and I’m gonna make it happen today,” Soobin groaned with his head back.

Without any warning, Soobin pushed Y/N down while simultaneously pushing himself above him, grabbing his face and kissing him. The movement released enough musk for visible hearts to appear in Y/N’s eyes, as he made a face that could only be compared to ahegao. He was high on the smell of Soobin himself, sweat releasing pheromones from his hard workout in the living room.

Soobin firmly kissed Y/N, as the younger parted his lips to allow for his tongue’s entry. The harmony between their tongues filled both of their mouths with heated affections that both could not get enough of.

Y/N’s body began heating up as Soobin rubbed his huge erection against Y/N’s. He felt so small and petite under his bigger stepbrother, and he loved being covered by his large body and his irresistible musk.

Breaking the kiss, Soobin took off Y/N’s shorts with one of his hands, while another went under his shirt and began pressing against his pink buds. Y/N moaned at the sudden touching, but he enjoyed the stimulation.

Taking his shirt off as well, Soobin began to suck powerfully on Y/N’s virgin nipples, making tingly feelings emerge all of Y/N’a body as he yelped. Soobin put his large fingers in his little dongsaeng’s mouth.

“Mm-Hah,hyung, your fingers are so long and veiny,” Y/N muttered as he grabbed the elder’s hands with his own tiny ones to lick them properly all over. They just tasted so good to Y/N, and the length gave him practice for what was to come.

Taking his hand out of his mouth, Soobin flipped Y/N over as he put a finger into Y/N’s virgin hole.

“Binnie hyung, it feels really weird,” Y/N complained.

“Be a good little stepbrother for your Soobin hyung, hmm? It’s because you’ve never had anything in this tight little hole, but that’ll change from now on,” Soobin sexily announced.

Soobin put another finger inside Y/N, scissoring him open well enough for the pinkness inside him to be seen.

“H-hyung, it’s too much, I-I’ve never had so much happening down there,” Y/N moaned.

“You have no clue what too much is,” Soobin hungrily answered before moving his fingers in and out of Y/N faster and faster to get him used to it.

“A-Ah-Ahn-Ahn,” Y/N moaned out of unexpected pleasure from Soobin’s action, causing the older to smile.

Feeling like Y/N was prepared, Soobin slapped Y/N’s ass firmly, causing it to open up. Soobin’s strength felt exactly like what Y/N had previously thought it would, bringing him even more excitement and impatience.

“Ready for hyung’s huge cock to wreck your hole and give you a sinful delight?”Soobin questioned.

Y/N replied, both as a front and out of genuine concern, “h-hyunggie, is it really okay that we do this?”

“Of course, my cute dongsaeng, you’ve wanted me for so long it’s not fair to both you and me to stop here. I wanna fill you up with my seed so bad,” Soobin whispered before grabbing Y/N roughly for a kiss once again.

Soobin positioned his cock right above Y/N and pushed lightly again his hole. With a nod from Y/N, Soobin thrusted 8 of his 10 inches straight into Y/N at once.

“h-h-HYUNG,” Y/N cried out from the feeling of being filled. Solving was just so big that he knew Y/N would fear taking him gradually, so he did it all at once.

“It-it-HURTS, hyung,” Y/N muttered as Soobin began to kiss him deeply to distract him from the pain and let him adjust.

“Are you ready now, Y/N?” Soobin asked.

Y/N nodded and Soobin began thrusting slowly, earning a light moan from Y/N. Soobin loved the feeling of the Y/N’s tightness enveloping his hole, and unconsciously began to thrust faster.

Although it felt weird initially, the way Soobin’s large, bulbous tip stimulated his prostate made Y/N’s body tingle and ascend to a level of pleasure he didn’t know possible.

“F-fuck me more, bin hyungie,” Y/N moaned out.

“Anything for my little brother,” Soobin responded while he gagged Y/N with his fingers and thrusted faster.

His hole being abused by his stepbrother’s large cock and Soobin’s fingers roughly playing with Y/N’s tongue, he nearly felt himself come, moving his hand to climax by jerking himself off.

Soobin’s free hand slapped Y/N’s hand off and he flipped him over, pulling out his cock suddenly in the process.

“You’ll come from only hyung’s dick. My cock better be enough for you, and I’ll show you what it can really do. You’ve awakened a beast that you’ll regret and your ass will love, Y/N,” Soobin angrily growled.

Moving both of his hands to Y/N’s neck to choke his lightly, Soobin thrusted all of his cock back in, earning a grunt from Y/N, who couldn’t make any more sounds.

Soobin’s huge dick rubbed against Y/N’s velvety walls fully, not leaving an inch untouched, and the speed at which it bulged Y/ab’s abdomen was incomprehensible.

With his prostate being abused and Y/N obsessed with the thought of getting wrecked by his stepbrother who also happened to be Soobin, a man whose sexiness was unmatched, it was too much for Y/N.

“H-hyungie, i-it’s too much,” Y/N muttered as he felt more stimulated than he knew possible.

“You can take it more my precious baby boy,” Soobin curtly replied as he slapped Y/N’s ass hard, earning a cute moan from the younger.

Wanting to wreck Y/N more than he could account for verbally, Soobin thrusted harder and more roughly than even before, causing Y/N to simply move along with his powerful thrusts with an open mouth and his tongue out.

Y/N continued moaning without stopping as Soobin pushed Y/N’s ass down, causing his back to arch and Y/N’s prostate unable to process the pleasure caused by each thrust of Soobin’s cock.

“Your hole is so tight and perfectly made for me, Y/N-ie,” Soobin moaned out as he felt himself bottom out inside the younger. He felt so good about being the first inside his stepbrother, and made sure to let him know that nobody could do him better.

“You’re all mine Y/N, tell everyone who fucks you this good your first time,” Y/N’s hyung told him as he continued to thrust deeply inside Y/N, so much so that Y/N was sure his hole wouldn’t ever be able to close again.

“S-Soobin hyung is the one I belong to. SOOBIN HYUNG IS THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN WRECK ME THIS GOOD. SOOBIN HYUNGGGG,” Y/N moaned out as Soobin nearly brought him to cum.

Y/N heard the spurts inside his ass as Soobin’s precum made his walls wet and swollen from the thrusting, prompting Soobin to thrust in quicker and much smoother.

Feeling his climax coming, Soobin muttered, “My dongsaeng, it’s time to come. I’ll fill you up with the cum of your hyung that you’ve needed and i’ll make you pregnant. I’ll fill you so much that you won’t even be able to sit down without thoughts of your hyung wrecking you.”

“HAH, YES SOOBIN HYUNG, MAKE ME PREGNANT AND FILL ME UP WITH YOUR SPERM. MARK ME AS YOURS,” Y/N screeched out as the older bit on his neck roughly, leaving a mark of their time together.

The smell of Soobin’s sweat and look of sexiness on his face was it for Y/N, and he released cum like a fountain just as Soobin hit his prostate especially hard in his own desire to reach his climax.

Soobin wasn’t done as he kept grunting with each thrust and holding the small boy tightly to his muscular body, placing one arm around the younger’s belly to feel his own cock.

Feeling Y/N’s tight walls closing in and twitching, Soobin’s monstrous cock became rock hard as he animalitically thrusted deep into Y/N for the last time, releasing three weeks worth of semen into his dongsaeng.

So much cum surrounded Soobin’s 10 inches deep inside Y/N, overstimulating him to the point of coming again.

Soobin licked the cum off of the younger’s chest as he pulled out, with so much of his cum leaking out that Y/N was struggling to make it seem like he didn’t wet the bed.

With a growl, Soobin filled Y/N with his cock once again, using it as a butt plug, and leaving Y/N feeling extremely satisfied after being wrecked by his hot, hunky, and huge stepbrother.

“I want to do this again hyung,” Y/N moaned out from having thoroughly enjoyed having his virginity taken by his monster of a stepbrother.

“Of course, my temptation,” Soobin replied as cum continued to leak out of Y/N’s reddened, inflamed boy pussy.

Author’s Note: This took a long time to finish, but I hope you all enjoy. There is a top Soobin drought right now, and I wanted to fix that. Feel free to leave a comment on how I did below!

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eluxcastar · 1 year

Note

Pantalone x reader (male or gn) where reader returns from a particularly bloody and mentally exhausting mission late at night. Perhaps a little emotionally scarring

Reader is concerningly silent

Pantalone helps them bathe and carries to bed

Hurt/comfort fic where reader softly cries to sleep and pantalone can do nothing more than hold them tighter and closer

You're not used to losing people

── ୨୧：pantalone x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: you spent days out travelling near the edge of snezhnaya, delayed by trouble you encountered that has you home half a day after you were expected to be. by all official accounts the objective was completed and the mission was therefore a success, but you seem to return a different person than the one who waved Pantalone off with a warm smile and a kiss for good luck.

୨୧﹑genre :: angst

୨୧﹑content :: masc reader (could be read as gn), mentions of blood, use of petnames (darling), implied death, reader is at a bit of an emotional breaking point, pantalone is written to be soft, they're married because I said so

୨୧﹑words :: 2.7k

anon this is strangely so cute I love it. sad but still somewhat cute an idea yk (I had literally no idea what to call it until five seconds ago). our man pantaloon needs more love. I accidentally wrote clock instead of cloth in one part and the mental image of Pantalone trying to clean reader with a clock made me fucking die laughing this is so stupid

if you like this also go read this post as the two are similar in theme and story but with very little comfort to the hurt 👍

something about the evening seems...wrong, the sky grows darker, too dark for it to be your usual time. the moon suspiciously high, yet there's no sign of you to be found. you should know better than to make him worry, knowing that though your strength may carry you through battle, you're also not invincible. what happens if you reach your limit out there? how is he supposed to know if you're safe? what if you don't come home?

abruptly Pantalone's thoughts are interrupted, the door opening, and he knows nobody would be bold enough to waltz on in without knocking unless it was you come home from a long and tiring mission. he only heard earlier that you would be returning, "Some time in the early evening" he had been told and clearly that was a lie. it was likely no fault of yours, just some hold up along the way.

he hears your footsteps, knows you're there-- at least he thinks that's you. you've been awfully quiet, though you usually call out to him when you return home. you still manage to worry him. he can't see you tucked away in the entrance, only glimpses of you as you remove your coat. there's a moment where he swears he hears you suck your breath through your teeth, then the rustling of fabric and finally your footsteps again, abruptly followed by a loud thud.

now you're really worrying him.

it takes him seconds to decide he's no longer waiting on you, standing to walk to you and see what has happened. the moment he turns around, Pantalone can see you even from where he stands several feet away, the thud clearly caused by you falling flat on your face, leaving you struggling to get up though not for a lack of trying. just before he reaches you, you just give up and turn yourself over so you can sit for a moment. you barely get there before he's lifting you up from the floor like a life-size rag doll.

"You're injured. Why didn't you go see someone?" his concern translates to disappointment at some point, and though he wonders if it was too harsh, the blood you're covered in and the bandages that bind your hand tells him you need it just a little bit. why aren't you taking better care of yourself?

you try to speak, but find it impossible for your words to comply, caught in your throat and refusing to come out. he's not impressed with that either; you can see it in his face that he would've said something if you didn't look so, frankly speaking, pathetic.

you have to ask yourself if he can tell you're trying not to cry, the quivering of your lips and glassy eyes hard to hide. he cradles you so gently it almost tips you over the edge, so safe compared to the way you've spent the last few weeks feeling. nothing about the day leading up to now specifically makes you feel that way, and it feels so draining trying to hold it back, but overwhelmingly so being home just makes you so emotional. your wound doesn't hurt too badly, and it's not as if your fall was anything but tripping over your own feet in absent-mindedness. if it proved anything, it was that you definitely did something to your shoulder, coupled with the fact that grabbing the blade of a sword to stop it in its tracks had left a shallow mark across your palm, you were beginning to doubt your instincts again.

still, you cling to the fabric of his clothes tightly, finding comfort in these familiar things which you associate with your home. hearing his voice, the cool contrast of the rings he wears against your skin, the scent of home, even just being held in this way makes you want to close your eyes and settle.

then suddenly you're moving again, and he sits you down on the couch and kneels down to remove your shoes for you, "I'll take you to be seen by a doctor tomorrow, but for now let's get you cleaned up and in some nice fresh clothes." he stands and places a kiss gently to your forehead, "I'll come get you when the water is ready, don't push yourself, darling."

you dare not test his patience, so you wait, staring down at your hand covered in bloody bandages. your hand is shaking. most of that blood is yours, though your mind wanders seeing it, back to the several corpses you laid your hands on, the people whose bodies you beat with your fist begging and screaming at them to get up as they lay lifeless. your throat still hurts. you untuck the end of those bandages, unravelling them from around your hand until you see your skin and the awful gash across your palm. it looks awful, red and swelling, far worse than when you last saw it. you run your thumb across the wound, flinching at the tinge of pain that shoots down your arm.

"Tsk tsk, what is this?" from behind the couch comes a hand, taking you by the wrist and pulling your arm up, "You should've gone to get this looked at. Did you at least clean this properly?"

you stare up at Pantalone who adjusts his glasses. it's strange to feel his hands against yours, bare and slightly damp hands warm against your skin. remembering he asked a question you shake your head, and his eyes flicker back to you with a strange look.

"The bath is ready." he finally says, "Does it hurt when I carry you? What else are you hiding that you haven't tended to properly?"

"It's ok, you can carry me." you say, finally able to speak, though your words are quiet and rougher, than you'd like. you clear your throat and repeat "You can carry me." to him knowing his usual fixation on acting your best, even though you're also aware there's no way he expects that of you.

Pantalone purses his lips a moment, glad for you to finally say something, but still finding something to worry about in the fact it didn't tell him much, resigning himself to the fact that you'll simply have to show him once he helps you undress to take a bath. you watch as he walks around the couch, and raise your arm up to him, wrapping it around his neck when he leans down to scoop you back up off the couch and into his arms.

the way his hands touch you as he removes your shirt, letting you lean your head down rather than pull your arms off and he promptly tosses it aside. his hands return to your shoulders, running down your arms to observe your skin, noting that you had bruises but no other cuts or scrapes, save for a minor one on your side barely in need of a band-aid. it's slightly more awkward shimmying yourself out of your pants as you have to put your weight on your hand while trying to avoid pressing it too forcefully against anything. his observation continues, though he once again finds you to be in perfect condition.

it's the dried blood that sticks to your skin that he worries about, even knowing it likely isn't yours.

"I wasn't told there would be delays in your arrival, was it so bad that you weren't about to communicate your messages back to me?"

the water is warm, but not hot, shallower than you might've filled it but you suppose only having the water rise to your waist was in case you were keeping another nasty scar hidden under your clothes from him. that was in case. every bone in your body adores this man's care for you, the usually pompous banker with a clear soft spot for you.

he holds a cloth which he dips into the water, running it along your skin as he dabs at the stains taking extra care not to scrub too harshly. days of dirt and grime and a battles worth of blood and sweat washed away by the loving hands of the Regrator. he can tell by your reluctance to answer that it's not the time, and carries on in silence letting only the sounds of running water making its way to your ears. it's a calming silence, though you watch as the water surrounding you is slowly dyed by the blood that runs off your body.

it finally hits you just how bad things got, even when before you could in some way write it off like a nightmare and pretend it hadn't really happened. some metaphorical weight presses down on your emotions and you just break as your vision blurs, tears welling up in your eyes.

perhaps noticing your shaking or catching one of the few tears running down your cheeks, the cloth is immediately set aside as Pantalone places a hand to your back. you try desperately to wipe your tears away, but a wet hand isn't the best tool to dry your cheeks with and you only serve to make it worse. a part of you feels hopeless, like a failure to your own team as you know you let them down. you were supposed to be a fighter, a good one at that, husband of one of the Harbingers and somehow you still managed to lose two people.

you feel yourself back in that place, weary as you finally stand, your shoulder stinging, you assume from the initial fall. you clasp a hand over it and rub your thumb on the area, making it sting. you groan at the pain. one of the more medically verse teammates tends to one of the wounded. you walk toward the collapsed body of a fellow fatuu, seeing them unmoving and bleeding into the snow. you practically fall at her side, landing on your knees as you slightly let your feet give out and bring you down to her.

cautious at first, you shake her, trying to roll her over though it hurts you to do so. she remains unresponsive to any poke or prod at her, not even a groan or mumble, and she's so cold.

you're all cold, you tell yourself and try again to shake her awake, "Hey, get up..." but despite everything nothing works, barely able to roll her onto her back to see her face. her eyes are wide open, a look of shock frozen on her face that haunts you, it's enough to make you hesitate, like a harsh slap across the face. "Wake up!" you say again, the desperation building. you know she's not asleep but it doesn't even matter anymore, beginning to feel more and more like a child pounding their fist on the floor throwing a tantrum the less and less put together you become. "WAKE UP DAMNIT! Nobody said you could die like this!"

"Captain, stop!" without warning, you're grabbed from behind and yanked away, sending a throbbing pain shooting through you as their grip is rough on your shoulder "Calm down and look at her. She's gone." they say.

in the blink of an eye it all rushes back to the view of a bath tainted by that same blood, long black hairs tickle your neck as you are held tightly once again. it grounds you just enough to remember that you're safe in a bath, cared for by the man you love.

"I'm such a failure." you choke out those words through your sobs, echoing off the bathroom walls, "They needed me to lead them and I just got them killed. I couldn't even keep my composure when they needed me to pull them together..."

you curl into yourself, squeezing his arm in your hand, "You're not a failure, darling, but you're not used to losing people." his assurance helps, if only slightly, but something about feeling like even someone who seems to care for none understanding your reaction eases your heart a bit. it doesn't do anything to help the dying part, but he's never been good with sincere reassuring words, and he chokes thinking of what to say to you.

all Pantalone can do is hold you and rub your back to let you cry, finishing up quickly to get you out of there and back into his arms bundled up in a towel. just as you feel hopeless for being unable to live up to whatever outlandish expectations you had of yourself, Pantalone feels as if his comfort falls short as he can't stop your crying, though he shushes and assures you it doesn't seem to make it better.

when you reject his offer to go to see a doctor, saying you just want to sleep. he doesn't want to push too much, only asking that you agree to let him disinfect your hand, otherwise letting you dress yourself in fresh clothes he set out for you while he goes to tend to other things momentarily. at the very least, your tears stopped, for now you seem calm again.

he returns to find you've already tucked yourself away bundled up in the covers, brushing your bangs from your faces and leaning down to kiss your temple. "I'll be with you in just a moment, darling." he whispers to you, earning a noise of acknowledgement.

stepping away only to change his clothes and let his hair down, he sits back on the edge of the bed, though on his side. he removes his glasses, folding them and setting them down on the nightstand. it's an unusual silence knowing you're lying right there behind him. he's so used to you talking to him right up until he tells you to go to sleep, and yet you seem so exhausted and drained. you're not used to losing people. he has to remember that you're more emotional than he is, but he doesn't mind--likes it in fact--as it's usually a good thing. just...not now.

he sighs to himself, unable to help it. he hates this, seeing you so upset, so unlike yourself. he hates feeling so powerless watching you punish yourself for something you couldn't have changed, like some passive observer in your life. his words don't help, and there's little he can do to take away those memories or even fix your body.

there is one thing Pantalone can do, the thought of resigning himself to simply being a source of comfort, someone to support you so you can cry as much as you want. it's better to cry in somebody's arms, isn't it? he turns on his side to face you, who faces away from him. he's not sure why, you just happened to be comfortable there. feeling his hand against your side, you shuffle closer and allow him to wrap his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

you let out another shaky breath, closing your eyes again. above all else you feel safe. given everything he's done for you, you can't ask for more, though even just being by his side is enough to put your anxiety to rest. still, it hurts. not even physically, but your heart won't stop aching, and unable to distract yourself you replay the sequence of events in your mind once more.

an ambush, the ensuing fight, a firm whack to the head which you still haven't discerned the source of, boots running and kicking up snow all around you as you watch through blurred vision, you manage to block a sword that swings down at you though in the stupidest way possible, you finally get your head straight and get up and fight more.

where did she die? more importantly when did she die? if you can just remember that maybe you would know what you did wrong, what to fix.

you become distracted again, knowing you're shaking and back to holding back your tears. what pulls you away most of all is Pantalone's voice, "Don't cry, darling, it's over now. You're home."

you grip his hand tightly, fingers intertwining with his. "Is it...is it ok if you talk to me more?" you ask quietly, "I think..."

"That's hardly a difficult request." he says, squeezing your hand in reassurance, "If it would help you fall asleep."

#♡ — ruu.#✦ — scenarios.#✦ — angst.#pantalone #pantalone x reader #pantalone x male reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader

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roxygen22 · 2 months

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Babysitter

For those of you looking forward to Lofty's appearance in the My Little Cocoa Bean series, your wait is over!

Summary: Willy needs a babysitter ASAP. Lofty steps in begrudgingly. Ben/Bean is 5, and Charlotte/Charlie is about a year old (and crawling).

C/W: Derogatory remark toward children. Babysitter loses track of child. Minor injury.

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It took time for Lofty to grow accustomed to Ben's regular presence at the factory. He found the squirming tiny human tolerable when confined to that silly wrap on Willy's chest. Cute, even. But the fondness waned when the boy became mobile and was fully exhausted once he started to talk. Ben made a habit of following Lofty around, asking the most inane questions. "What are you doing?" "Why are you orange?" "Can I have green hair, too?" He was oblivious to Lofty's exasperation.

On the rare occasion when there were long spells between Ben's visits, though, Lofty would ask after him. "When can we expect the little troll again? I'm not used to actually being able to get my work done without tripping over him." Willy would just laugh and shake his head. He could see right through that callous exterior.

Today was the first day that Willy took both Ben *and* Charlotte with him to the factory. Lofty scoffed when he saw the family enter. "Two of them. Fantastic," he said flatly. He gave Ben the usual side eye, though Willy saw the small smile that lit up Lofty's face when he thought nobody was looking.

Willy had just gotten the children settled in the office when he spied an entry on his desk calendar. "Oh no, no no no! That can't be today!"

"What's wrong, Papa?"

"I have a very important meeting at 9 this morning that I thought was scheduled for tomorrow." He paled and scrubbed a hand down his face. You were at work today as well, and Willy knew how much it meant to you to start back again after Charlotte's birth. There was no way he was going to pull you away because he mismanaged his schedule. Noodle was at school, and there was not enough time for your parents to cross town to watch the kids. "Oh boy. I'll just have to ask Lofty."

Willy pulled out his fife to summon the little orange man. "Lofty, I need to ask a favor. Can you keep an eye on Bean and Charlie, keep them out of trouble just long enough for me to meet with the chameleon flower importer?" Willy implored.

"And why would I want to do that?" Lofty asked incredulously.

"Please, Lofty. If the deal works out, we'll have the ingredients again for those color-changing candies you like so much."

Lofty placed his hand on his chin in thought. "I suppose I can look after your crotch goblins. JUST for a limited period of time. JUST this once!"

Ignoring the jab at his babies for the time being, Willy gratefully shook Lofty's hand. "You're a lifesaver. Here's Charlie's nap and feeding schedule and her bottles. Here are Bean's snacks. I need to go brush off my coat and hat. This shouldn't take more than an hour, tops." Willy left the office in a whirl. "And Bean, stay away from the edge of the chocolate river!" he called out from the other end of the hallway.

Ben and Lofty just sat and stared at each other, not knowing what to do next. Charlotte seemed sufficiently entertained by chewing on her hands and babbling.

"Well, you two are more boring than guarding cocoa beans," Lofty lamented after a few moments had passed. "I need to go count bags of sugar. I will be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Take this whistle and blow on it if you need my attention. Keep an eye on your- hold on a moment, where is the newer one?"

Both he and Ben spun around to look, but Charlotte was nowhere to be seen. Unbeknownst to Lofty, the little girl was already quite proficient at crawling - something that Willy had failed to mention.

"Charlie? Charlieeeeeee!" Ben called out.

"Ba ba ba ba." They heard her babble in the distance in response to Ben's voice. Their heads swiveled until they caught sight of her crawling over the candy bridge. The bridge over the chocolate river. The bridge that does not have any rails to prevent someone from fa-

"Oh, good heavens. Charlotte, stop right this instant!" Lofty yelled. Thankfully, the girl paused. "How did she get all the way over there so quickly? How did she even get out of the office?"

Ben ran toward her, but Charlotte giggled and resumed crawling away at a faster pace, making a game of it. Lofty ran after both of them, but Ben's longer legs (even at 5 years old) prevailed. Ben would have caught up to the baby, too, had he not tripped over a group of candy toadstools at the base of the bridge. The poor boy fell forward and scraped his hands. Fat tears rolled down his face from the stinging pain and from losing sight of his sister again.

Lofty quickly looked Ben over once he finally caught up. "Buck up, you'll be alright. Get back on the proverbial horse. We need to find Charlotte. We know she went that way," he pointed across the river. "Let's split up. If you find her, blow the whistle."

Lofty pulled the boy back up off the ground. Together, they crossed the bridge. Ben went left and Lofty went right, each calling for the girl in hopes she would giggle or babble again. After what felt like hours of searching and chasing phantom sounds across the garden, they crossed paths under the chocolate cherry tree.

"I can't find Charlie!" Ben sobbed. The stoic Oompa Loompa was also nearly reduced to tears by that point as well. Willy would surely cast him out, just like he was exiled from Loompaland. Or worse.

A soft noise pulled Lofty from his downward spiral. It sounded like the tree was...snoring? He circled the trunk to find the source. "What on Earth? Benjamin, come look!" he whisper-yelled to the boy. Ben knelt down and spotted his baby sister cuddled up in a hollow at the base of the tree...asleep. Neither of them were big enough to pick her up and carry her back to the office, so they let her be.

"Stay here," Lofty instructed. "I will go find something to clean up the scrapes on your hands. If she wakes, you give her a great big bear hug and don't let go until I get back."

Lofty went to the storeroom to grab some rags and water. When he returned, Ben was asleep, curled up protectively in front of the den Charlotte had made for herself. He couldn't help but smile at the sight. The poor rascal had exhausted himself worrying over his sister. He didn't dare wake them for fear of playing another round of hide and seek. Instead, he sat down and leaned back against the trunk of the tree to-

Next thing Lofty knew, he felt a tap on his boot. He blinked the sleep away and spotted Willy's tall, lanky frame. Apparently, he had dozed off, too, and in his sleep had leaned over so that his head was resting on Ben's shoulder.

Lofty jolted up and looked to make sure both children were accounted for. Willy snickered. "Don't worry, Lofty. Your curmudgeonly reputation is safe with me. I won't tell anyone you were cuddling with my kids as if you actually like them." He winked.

"Cuddling! I...These menaces?" Lofty stammered. "Really, Mr. Wonka. I sincerely hope you don't plan on bringing more of these small humans to the factory. Now, can I expect to have more of those delightful color-changing candies again soon?"

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A/N: Ben will tell all once he wakes. Charlotte is going to be a handful!

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Masterlist

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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 10 months

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close to home | chapter nine

plot: the reader meets Daryl's brother and an old member of the group, while trying to go through the motions of being around people again. she and Daryl grow closer while on guard duty.

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 1,683 Warnings: violence, blood A/N: thanks for reading!

The sun was beginning to set by the time Rick returned to the courtyard, and you were surprised to see Daryl with him and a man that looked like his brother. There was a heavy tension in the air, and you felt like someone would get killed if anyone said the wrong thing. But Rick paved the way and told Merle, you learned to dig a grave for Axel.

With the tension level down, you followed the group into the prison, where arguments broke out over what to do with Merle. You knew you didn’t have any opinions on the matter because you didn’t know the history behind their obviously strained relationship. So you went up to your cell to drown out the arguments with Tora, who was sleeping peacefully as if nothing had happened.

You kicked off your shoes and climbed into bed, pulling her against your body. You were exhausted, starving, and all you could think about was a hot shower. You missed hot showers most of all and scented soaps. You missed feeling clean.

Sleep found you well and quick, and soon you woke to sunlight streaming into your cell. Your stomach growled with a painful demand, and you realized you hadn’t eaten last night. Not that you would’ve been able to anyway, after all, that gunfire. You weren’t a stranger to death, but it didn’t make anything easier.

Both Carol and Daryl were sitting in the main room of the cell block, and Tora was perched on the table getting affection from the woman.

“Where is everyone?” You asked. The silence was one of the first things you noticed besides the sound of Merle snoring in the front cell.

Carol gave you a smile while scratching the cat behind her ears. “Rick took Carl and Michonne to start clearing some of the bodies outside, and Beth is walking with Hershel. Glenn and Maggie are on guard. Breakfast is on the counter.”

You nodded and said nothing, grabbing some of the food Carol must’ve made earlier and a water bottle. You felt bad about sleeping in later than everyone else, but your body must’ve needed it after the night you had.

As you sat down, Judith started crying, and Carol jumped up to tend to the baby.

You gave Tora affection as you ate and watched Daryl clean the crossbow and sharpen his knives. “I’m glad you’re back,” you told him. Daryl gruffed and didn’t say anything, causing you to laugh. “I understood why you left. I would’ve done the same thing.”

“Leaving was the wrong thing, just took me a day to figure that out,” Daryl said.

You didn’t say anything else as you ate, eventually reaching over to take the block on which he was sharpening his knives to do your own. In the cell across from you two, Merle stopped snoring and grumbled awake.

“Little brother, you get me some food, okay?”

You raised an eyebrow at the man and looked at him briefly before returning to your knife.

“Oh, lookie here, I didn’t get a chance to make nice with you yesterday, missy. Why don’t you get ol’ Merle here something to eat, huh?”

You snorted and set the knife sharpener down, “I don’t think so,”

“Prettier than a peach with a mouth on her, I see,” Merle said and looked at Daryl, “This why you came back here?”

“Man, shut up!” Daryl yelled as he walked over to the counter. “Can’ you tell nobody ‘round here gives a shit ‘bout ya? Stop tryin’ make things worse,”

You decided not to stick around for their sibling argument and instead went to go find Rick and see if he needed any help.

***

Just when you thought things couldn’t get any more eventful, a woman named Andrea showed up. She was met with unexpected hostility, but eventually, the group relaxed around her. You kept your distance from her but were polite. There was a lot of tension with her around, and you didn’t really feel like being involved in any of it. So instead, you helped Daryl clean more weapons and stayed quiet while the group and her caught up.

Eventually, she left, and things again settled into a new rhythm. Rick set out with Carl and Michonne the following day to get more guns, and everyone else was left to continue working on the prison. By sunset, you were physically exhausted and mentally awake. Everyone was a bit on edge because they weren’t back yet.

You were finishing up helping Carol with the after-dinner dishes when she handed you a bowl of the water-based stew you’d helped her make. “Can you bring this out to Daryl? He’s on guard duty.”

You took the bowl from her and grabbed one of the water bottles, “Okay,”

The night air was unsurprisingly warm as you crossed the courtyard. The stars were just starting to come out, and it was that perfect summer dusk setting. If the world was normal, you would’ve loved it. But now, seeing the space between the stars… it just reminded you how small the world seemed now.

Daryl seemed surprised when you popped open the floor hatch and climbed up. “I got some food for you. Had to keep Merle from eating it all tonight.” The hatch dropped behind you, and you sat a few feet away from him after handing him his dinner.

He nodded and started to eat. You leaned back against the wall and pulled your legs up, wrapping your arms around them. The soft nighttime breeze barely touched your face from where you sat.

“You don’ gotta sit up here with me,” Daryl said, looking you over.

You shrugged your shoulders but stayed quiet. It was peaceful up here. You felt safe being so high up, and you enjoyed the quietness. Judith wasn’t trying, and no one was trying to talk to you. It was nice. It reminded you of the treehouse, which ached in a way that almost made you wish you could turn back time. But you felt safer here, with other people and your family, despite the disasters of the governor and his attacks.

It was mostly quiet for a long time. Grasshoppers sang their song, owls hooted and an occasional frog crocked, More stars came out as the sunlight fully disappeared. The breeze got a little cooler and it reminded you again of the treehouse.

Daryl looked at you occasionally, but you didn’t mind it. You hoped he didn’t mind the company and hadn’t been put on the guard rotation yet, so you didn’t spend much time up here. You hoped that would change soon.

You felt him look at you again, and this time you glanced at him, your eyes meeting his in the moonlight. “What?”

“You regret coming here?”

“No,” You shook your head, “I’m glad I did. Even if we’re about to fight some crazy guy. You regret bringing me?”

“Nah, Carl likes the cat. And your good with the baby,”

Your heart ached, and you looked down, playing with a hangnail that developed because of all the labor. “I was pregnant once,” You weren’t sure why you said that. But once you did, you didn’t wanna stop. “Liam and I, we got pregnant right after we got engaged. I was in a car accident when I was about five months, and we lost the baby. That was a month before the world went to shit.”

Daryl was quiet.

You laughed softly, “I used to believe in God; I went to Sunday church with Uncle Hershel and the girls. Now I’m not… I’m not so sure about how I feel. Not sure why a God would do this. But when it did, I remember thinking to myself that God took my baby away to keep it from this world. I know that sounds silly.”

“It don’,” Daryl said quickly. “Plenty of people believe weirder shit. Makes you feel better. It all that matters.”

You smiled at him before looking away and back up at the stars. “Whatever reason it was, be it God, fate, or just the damn drunk driver, I’m thankful for it. I understand women making the choices they do now when it comes to that. I respect Lori for keeping the baby, but… I don’t know,” You rambled on.

“I get it. Not like any of us had a choice. But the ass-kicker is here, and we gotta do right by her. Right by Lori,”

You nodded and leaned your head back, closing your eyes. “She’s a cutie,”

Daryl snorted and spit over the ledge, “Where’s the cat?”

“Carl’s got her. I taught him a few tricks she knows, and he’s going crazy,” You said quietly. “It’s nice out tonight. It would be a nice night for a bonfire if things were normal. Do you count us cooking dinner over a fire as a bonfire, or do you think a bonfire is special? Meant for roasting smores and singing silly songs while being eaten alive by damn mosquitoes.”

It was silent for a minute before he answered, “Probably somethin’ special. I wouldn’ call heating a can a soup a bonfire,”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, “Yeah, I think so too. Maybe once things get settled, we should do one for Carl. I bet he’d like that. Beth too. We can make a run to find marshmallows somewhere. I know how to make ‘em homemade, too, in case we can’t find any.” You laughed.

Daryl shook his head at you and was about to reply when headlights appeared. He used the scope of his gun to look. “They’re back. Let’s get the gate.”

#daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion x reader #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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callsign-rogueone · 2 months

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letters from samara - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x reader (Angel!) part of my Valentine’s Day celly! 💕 words: 1.0k 🏷: FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME SPOILERS, part of my Garrick and Angel series, so read that first for context! no other warnings, just kinda soft and sad.

Someone drops a thick envelope onto the table in front of you. “From Samara. They said it was important.”

Samara. Brennan had told you that’s where Garrick and Xaden are. Your hands shake as you open the seal, but you relax at the familiar slant of Garrick’s handwriting.

My angel,

I will start with what I know you’re most worried about: I am alive, I am safe, and so is X. He’s brooding in the corner of the room right now -- he’s not taking it well being apart from Vi, but command has allowed them visits every two weeks for Tairn and Sgaeyl’s sakes.

We both miss you more than words can describe. I wish I could have said goodbye before we left, or that we could have taken you with us, but X wouldn’t hear arguments from anyone. I have never seen him that serious about anything before.

I’m so sorry, angel. For all of it, everything. You didn’t deserve to be put through any of that, and I know how deeply it hurt you. It was terrifying to see you that way, so drained and cold. I can’t imagine what it felt like.

Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, my love. You are the most kindhearted person I’ve ever known, and I love that about you, but you have to think of your own needs as well. You deserve peace and rest, especially now. Sleep in as long as you want, make time for your meditation. I’m sure the gardens would appreciate your attention as well; I swear you could make roses grow in dry sand as long as you smiled at them every day.

I couldn’t bear to burn anything of yours, knowing that your heart still beats. I kept the things I thought to be most important to you and took them here with me. I will return them to you as soon as I can, but they are a comfort to me now — my room here feels like it did at Basgiath, with little touches of you scattered around. I keep watching the door, thinking that any moment you’ll come knocking to walk to class with me, or if I reach across the bed in the morning, you’ll be beside me again. I don’t know when I’ll see you next, but I know in my heart that I will. There is nothing and no-one that could keep me from you.

Yours always,

On the sheet below, another.

Until I can lay by your side and tell you about my days, I’ll keep writing to you about them instead.

Being here feels like being a fresh cadet all over again, but different -- bottom of the food chain, getting the shifts nobody wants, but at least we don’t have to constantly prove our strength like we did in our first year at Basgiath, and we already have our dragons.

One of Chradh’s relatives is here, which is cool. I think they’re cousins? They look damn near identical. I walked up to the wrong one on the flight line the other day -- thankfully the guy has a better sense of humor than Chradh, but I’m never making that mistake again.

Every rider here seemed to know exactly who we were when we arrived. Some of them have been more subtle with their distaste for us than others, but nobody’s been dumb enough to try anything -- probably because we look like we can fight, and because Sgaeyl is fucking terrifying, even more so now that she’s separated from Tairn.

I just got off a 12-hour patrol shift, and I’m exhausted, but it’s hard to sleep without you here. I don’t think we’ve ever been apart this long in our lives. Being without either of you has never even felt like a possibility before; it’s always been us three together through the good and the bad. Someday it’ll be like that again, I know it will.

Brennan is the best mender I have ever known. If you choose, he can help you strengthen your ability, but please don’t push yourself too far. I need you to be in one piece when I get back.

There are three more sheets underneath, one in Xaden’s rough script and two more from Garrick, the last dated four days ago -- likely the day he’d sent it.

You realize what an incredible risk it was to write to you at all. It wouldn’t take a genius to put together that X is Xaden, that you’re hiding in Aretia, that you’d faked your death, or rather that your friends had faked it for you. How many hands did these pages pass through to reach you? How many others out there are on your side?

You bring a hand up to cover your yawn, realizing how tired you are. The sun has gone down, a small mage light the only thing illuminating the corner of the study that you occupy. It’s likely nearing midnight.

“The letters and the books will still be there in the morning,” Tab says gently. “Sleep. You’ve had a long day.”

You look down at the torn piece of fabric you’ve been staring at for the last four hours. It has not yet sewn itself back together, no matter how hard you concentrated or “cleared your mind”, how gently you touched it. You’d even asked it nicely, but it did not dignify you with a response.

You set the letters aside for a moment, stacking up the books that you’d found in the house’s library about mending and placing them in a neat pile in the corner of the table you’ve been sitting at every evening for the last week. You fold the black cotton into quarters, setting it atop the pile -- you’ll try again tomorrow.

You can’t help but smile as you tuck the letters back into the envelope, brushing your fingers over the wax seal.

Garrick is right, this is the longest you’ve ever been apart, but as you gaze out the window into the starry sky, holding the letters he’d written you, the distance between you doesn’t seem that far.

#garrick and angel #garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #mine #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #reader insert #trying to write as gare was a Challenge lol

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