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#now why would you make cry on a monday morning
obsessivevoidkitten · 9 months
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Animal Farm: Mondays
Male Yandere Harpies x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, harpies, general yandere behavior, captive reader, spit roasting, cum in hair, aftercare, male harem, brief mention of being used as a cock sleeve by bull men.) Word Count: 500 (Here it is! I have had a solid wave of productivity lately answering old asks and now there is this, something I said I would do a long time ago. I said I would make a mini-fic/drabble with every group of monster men from my animal farm fic which can be found HERE.)
You sighed. It was early on Monday morning, the sun starting to stream into the window enough to disturb your sleep. You glared at your alarm clock and preemptively turned off the alarm that would go off at 10:00. It was 9:53. You wanted to cry. You had not fully recovered from Rory, Sev, and Bruc swapping you between them as a communal cock sleeve all day on Friday. You lamented your decision to be a monster man farmer with so many different species. You should have stuck to one or two. Oh well… no use crying over it now. At least you started the week off easy after your weekend break. The harpy men had pretty forgiving cocks. Ugh. Was that what it had come to? Judging how not awful your day was by the brutality of the cocks you were about to encounter? You scarfed down a quick breakfast then enjoyed your last few minutes before you were swarmed by the three harpies that called your farm home, Zan, Xilra, and Elry. They all looked similar, green and blue feathers in their hair, emerald green eyes to match, dark skin, with large angel-like wings sprouting from their backs and their legs ended in the way any bird of prey’s did. Sharp. Talons. When you stepped into the aviary your watch read exactly 10:30, you weren’t giving them a second more than you were forced to. It was like your one shred of resistance, even though it didn’t really matter very much. You also were too scared to be late after what happened the one time you were. You were sniffed out and fucked. Swiftly. As soon as you stepped into the large greenhouse-like domed building, it was like a miniature forest complete with all sorts of trees and plants, you were instantly pounced upon by the three monster men. They wasted not a single second in taking off your clothes and tossing them aside on the dirt while pinning you to the wall. “Hey come on! Those were just cleeeEEEEAAAAAANNNED. H-hey!” Two of them were biting, licking and nuzzling all over your neck while the third was using his mouth between your legs. “W-w-why do we always have to start the d-daaaay like thiiiiis??” “We love you little starling~” “Yes! And we must show you!” “We haven’t been inside you for a whole week love! It was torture~” “We must make up for the lost time sweet bird.” And that they certainly did. A week's worth of the pent up libidos of three tall harpy men unloaded on you and in you within hours. They spit roast you while you were on the ground before taking you in mid air. By the end of their breeding session with you you were exhausted. And this was supposed to be the easy day. At least they let you rest afterwards, washing the cum out of your hair and off your sore body before cuddling you and petting you while they sang sweet little bird songs and praised their darling little starling~
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sttoru · 9 months
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ෆ tags. dad!toji x female reader. toji letting baby megumi try all kinds of new food !
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it was a typical monday morning: you were making breakfast for your little family, flipping pancakes and eggs as you left toji to handle the task of helping megumi go through his routine. once your husband had finished, he walked into the kitchen with your little child in his arms (this time holding the boy somewhat properly).
once you turn your head towards the two, you noticed how megumi was eagerly suckling on toji’s index finger—a habit of your son to signal you that he yearned for his daily nutrients.
“megumi’s biting my finger off,” toji exaggerates, yawning before moving towards the fridge and opening the door. the sudden breeze of cold air hitting his skin makes him shudder.
you laugh and flip a pancake, revealing its golden brown colour on the back, “i stored ‘gumi’s food on the second shelf. a little in the back.”
megumi’s tiny arms were already reaching out for the familiar bowl, making grabby hands at it as if encouraging his dad to feed him his meal. toji’s eyes, however, were scanning the entire content of the fridge for something new, “y’know, maybe it’s time to learn how to eat somethin’ else, kid. your taste buds need’ta get used to other foods.”
according to his ‘brilliant’ logic, it’s best to get kids used to new foods at a young age so they won’t become picky eaters later on. thus, toji grabs the most random combination of whatever looks edible. the gathered items consisted of pickles, strawberries, mini-carrots, tomatoes and a single lemon.
toji quickly glances over at you, but your attention was totally focused on the breakfast you were preparing. your husband takes his chance, puts megumi in his high-chair and cuts up all the food he grabbed to biteable pieces for the baby, “alright, i’ll give ya the freedom of choosin’ something on y’r own. go on.”
toji places the various items on megumi’s small tray. the boy stares at the food and picks a piece of strawberry first since the red colour was the most appealing. megumi munches on it, hands as well as his lips getting a bit messy. he didn’t seem to dislike it as his little pouty lips continued to move and digest the fruit.
“okay, so ya like the strawberries. noted.” toji makes a mental note of the new discovery, already planning on buying boxes of strawberries for his son.
once megumi swallowed the piece, the curious boy goes on and picks another type of food. this time it was a yellow coloured piece—one which megumi had no knowledge about. toji did, however, and was already grinning.
the man crossed his arms while he looked down at his kid who was about to go through an unpleasant experience. that’s what builds character according to toji, so why would he intervene and stop megumi from eating a lemon? finding out on his own will teach him a very valuable lesson.
the second megumi’s tongue picks up on the extreme sour taste, his nose scrunches up, eyebrows furrowing along with a disgusted noise escaping the back of his throat, “blegh!”
toji bursts out laughing and points at megumi whose tiny fingers were trying to wipe the taste off his tongue, spitting and almost crying from the unfamiliar taste that entered his mouth. most parents would help their child out and give them water to rinse their mouth, however the scene was apparently way too hilarious to your husband for him to even think about rushing to aid megumi.
you turn to see what the commotion was about and spot your son almost in tears from whatever he ate. you frown and walk up to the high-chair, inspecting the squished piece of lemon in megumi’s hand.
“mannnn, that was the funniest stuff i’ve seen in a while.” toji snickers once he calms down, finally grabbing a tissue to wipe megumi’s drool and spit off.
“poor baby.” you watch the small child stare at his dad with a pouty expression on his little face like he was awaiting on an apology of some kind.
even toji can’t deny it: he did somewhat feel bad now. those big and watery eyes looking up at him made him soften in a fraction of a second. the dark-haired man dumps the used tissues in the nearby garbage can and then walks back to the high chair;
“aww, okay, ‘m sorry.” toji coos and lifts megumi up in his embrace, smothering the child with kisses all over his exposed shoulders before softly poking the fat of his cheeks, “can you forgive your daddy, kiddo?”
“da-da!” megumi happily giggles without knowing the meaning of toji’s words. all the kid desired at that instant was more of his dad’s attention and affection. especially after what occurred a moment ago.
megumi was guaranteed to get what he needed since toji was already preparing to tickle and kiss his adorable son all over as an apology.
you chuckle and go back to making breakfast—your ears filled with high-pitched squeals from your son as toji’s voice called out for a ‘tickle attack’.
at least all was well in the end.
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theplumsoldier · 7 months
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taking care
summary: on thursdays you and joel have a drink, but this time poor old joel is in need of a friend and makes a confession, which brings you closer than ever before.
pairing: joel miller x afab!reader
word count: 8,1k
warning: angst, alcohol consumption, talk of sad bad memories ;(joel tells you about everything that went down at the firefly hospital; killing-spree, lying to ellie, etc.), self-l oathing, crying joel, mutual pining, friends to lovers bro, vulgar language, some domestic bliss, friends to lovers trope!!! mdni 18+: mentions of masturbation and fantasizing about friends, oral (female receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, praise kink, pet names. let me know if i missed anything! <3<3
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You found it ironic how you had longed for the sun's blazing rays to warm your body all winter when summer had finally reached Jackson and now you were whining and moaning because it felt like you were being fucking boiled alive.
The sweat tickled down your skin, perspiration spread in your hairline, threatening to bunch into droplets and fall from your nose and brow. Joel felt himself tense up at the sight. Dressed in washed denim shorts, a t-shirt, and worn cowboy boots—it was a sight to behold. You looked like an angel to a southern man, and Joel had to clear his throat to make sure his voice wouldn't fail him.
"Still goin' at it? It's Milton's job to take care 'o the horses, y'know."
Chuckling, you shook your head and dusted your shorts as you stood. Running a hand over your horse's mane, you gave Joel a smirk. "You know she don't like nobody but me."
He chuckled. Joel had noticed that the more time you had spent with him, the more his own southern drawl began to echo in your own voice. Not much, not enough for other people to notice, he doubted you yourself even did, but Joel noticed—and every time he got a taste of that sweet honeyed punctuation, his stomach practically somersaulted.
Today, you hadn't been on patrol together, as you had the morning call and he had the evening call. You knew he'd just gotten back. Typically he would shower after duty, but today he hadn't and you knew him well enough to know why.
"Had a rough run?"
Joel huffed in response, forcing himself to pry his eyes off of you for a second. He had never seen you in this little clothes before and was finding it quite difficult not to give you a one-over when you had turned to him completely.
You had tied your flannel around your waist, leaving your arms bare for the sun to tan and it was then he couldn't help himself. Your cleavage was revealed in the little top you wore, droplets of sweat glistening on your skin as they trailed—
Joel cleared his throat once again, "ya up for a nightcap?"
A sly smirk landed on your lips.
Leading your horse May back into the stables, you walked with Joel to his house, to share a drink or two as you did every so often. You sensed a sort of tradition forming, recalling you had done this exact play every Thursday for the past few months. Five out of seven days a week you patrolled together. On Mondays when you were both off duty you played pool. On two out of seven days, you were in no way obliged to see one another and yet, here you were, making it a tradition—ensuring that you would not go as long as 24 hours without keeping each other company.
You wanted to ask about the day he had had but decided against it and settled on asking how Ellie was doing instead. Having come to know Joel quite well, you understood he would rather let work-related matters stay work-related and it seemed fitting to veer your attention at Ellie as you recalled Joel saying she was doing good at school. You should've talked about the weather. The weather was a safe bet.
"S'it turns out she didn't even go—keeps holdin' out on me," Joel worried, clearly contemplating what might be on Ellie's mind.
Some weeks back, Joel had been thrilled to hear that Ellie was doing good in the school in Jackson, but as it turned out, she had lied to him about going. He wasn't sure where she'd run off to, and that bothered him more than the fact that she was keeping things like this from him—how could he keep her safe, if he didn't even know where she was?
It was clear Joel blamed himself for a lot of things, and though you were well aware he didn't always tell you everything just as Ellie didn't tell him everything, you never hesitated to assure him he was doing a good job. You admired the way he cared for her - it was obvious he loved her and she loved him - although you doubted they ever spoke of that. One night Joel had shared with you a portion of what Ellie had been through, and even admitted that there was a time, a brief span where Ellie had gone through hell for him and he didn't even know what she had endured back then—he blamed himself for a lot of things that happened to her, constantly reminding himself that he was not good enough, that he let her down. Joel hated that feeling, that he was failing yet another daughter and he needed to get a whole lot more of his chest, to talk to someone—to you, about what had happened before they returned to Jackson. He just never could, never knew how to begin nor how to explain why he'd done all those atrocities—what else might one call it? It was fucked up, all of it, but the situation had been so very fucked up too and he just needed someone to agree with him on that, he needed you to ensure him he had been right to make the choices that he did.
But Joel had always been good at keeping his feelings bottled up, letting them mix together over the years until an occasion allowed him to relieve some of the stress that concoction produced.
You had confronted him about it once when you had felt a small fraction of his anger—he had admitted and apologized, for it was so very unprompted he realized when he took it out on you, which led to a much more calm and collected conversation where you advised him to relieve himself of all that weight he insisted on carrying like fucking Atlas lifting the universe. While you didn't want to act like you were any better at that yourself - getting help, that is - he agreed you were right. In that moment he understood and doted the fact that you were willing to let your shoulder be one for him to cry upon if need be. Of course, he wasn't going to do that every chance given (patrolling helped a lot with his anger issues, giving him an excuse to commence violence); nevertheless, Joel felt touched to know you would be there for him.
Instead of dumbing his shitload of stress on you, he found himself going out of his way to see you outside of your communal duties, your company somehow helping in other ways. Though Joel never initiated any deep conversations with you, they happened every now and again and those nights, when he'd go to sleep, it felt as if he could rest just a bit easier.
The sun gradually went over the horizon, the blue sky melting into a nuance of lilac, bringing with it the cold and quiet air of night. This was a peace neither of you had experienced in a long time before settling down in Jackson and therefore as sacred and precious as a promise.
You helped yourself to another drink and Joel quietly watched on as you poured the liquid gold. Holding up the bottle you tipped your head to look at him, silently asking if he needed a refill.
Over the years Joel had become a man of few words and meeting you he suspected he had found his match. You only conversed freely around people you liked and enjoyed the company of, not nearly bothered enough to spare even a glare at those who didn’t deserve your time.
You decided to joke to lighten the mood and hoped you weren't overstepping. "Come on, Joel. I know you're older than me but you must've been a teenager at some point."
It made him snort and his brow jumped at the change of topic though he wasn't about to object. You adored it when he looked at you like that; the way he glared when you teased him or made him laugh. "If I was I sure don't remember."
Joel downed the rest of his drink and held out the glass. You leaned forward and poured him a couple of inches and for a second Joel slipped, forgetting his guard and manners as he watched more of your chest expose to him. He wasn't sure when his attraction had begun, but he had noticed that lately he just couldn't seem to oppress it. Joel would waste away at night, fighting the urge to let himself give in to his desires and fantasize about you as he fisted his cock—and he was strong on that part. It was hard (and in more ways than one) but he felt disrespectful even thinking of you like that. He was supposed to be your friend; and what kind of friend would he be if he was ready to betray your trust when he was feeling lonely.
He gulped.
Finally prying his eyes off of you, Joel wet his dry lips and slushed the drink around the cup.
"You're a generous bartender," he remarked sarcastically.
You laughed.
"You've got expressive eyes, you know that?"
He stopped with the rim of the glass at the tip of his lip, pausing, fearing he had been caught. The thump, thump, thump of his heart resonated in his ears.
"'S that so?" he pondered. "What're they tellin' ya?"
Joel hoped you didn't notice the way his breath hitched in his throat when you leaned back in the rocking chair with a smug smirk on your lips.
"That you were a troublemaker," you grinned. "But you never got in trouble 'cause you were so damn charming as a kid. Probably shoplifted gum or some shit."
Joel laughed. You weren't too far off; he did occasionally get into trouble and he did usually get out of it with no problem—his mom had called him the luckiest boy in the world. The memory struck a cynical thought in his mind; he might have been lucky but not enough to miss the end of the world.
Joel decided to entertain your guessing game. "I ain't ever shoplifted. Didn't have the guts for it," he tutted before taking a swig. "'F I had it would've been condoms though."
Your eyes squinted and crinkled as you bit back a cackle. Your head fell back and your chest bubbled with laughter and he knew he shouldn't have made the last comment when he felt his cock strain against the seams of his washed jeans.
"Joel Miller—scared of a lil' thievin'?" you teased, moving your boot from the porch railing to shove at his thigh.
There was that southern accent you had obtained from him again.
He masqueraded his discomfort by shoving back at your foot with a chuckle—he wasn't sure why he kept his hand on your boot though, keeping it in the place you had put it.
"I didn't have sex till I was like 24..." Joel's expression turned sour as he noticed yours did the same and sensed a bitter memory. Then you mused, trying to make light of the bitter picture that flashed in your mind: "Thought it was love. Turns out it was fear."
You shook your head as if to shake the thoughts out. You'd been through a lot since then, toughened up and become brave enough to fight for yourself, but the memory was still clear. You had vowed to never trust another man again which was why it made this blooming attraction to Joel Miller all the more difficult. The last thing you had considered when coming to Jackson was to try and build a life, and yet; here you were, having built a life with friends and found family in a prospering community with a steady ass job and bars and cafés and all that shit as if the world had never ended.
It seemed almost like you had been feigning sadness for your mien changed so abruptly it caught Joel off guard. You said with casual indifference: "How 'bout you? Ever manage to find love in this fucked up world?"
Joel wasn't sure if you were testing him. You had said he had expressive eyes and completely misread his mind—now he wondered if it was on purpose. The way you nudged him with your boot (that he was still holding onto) told him you were very aware of what you did to him.
And you noticed—of course, you noticed the way his eyes would effortlessly glide over your body, down your body whenever you moved an inch. You had noticed his attention before, but not like this. Not when it shamelessly continued when you had caught him and it made you realize you were not making stuff up in your mind.
Joel wanted you, too.
Now you just wanted him to admit it.
"Once or twice," he finally admitted though his answer gave you little to work with.
You supposed it was the question and not the answer that was the problem; there's a fine line between loving another person, caring for another person, liking a person, and enjoying their company. You had once been told that one could determine if they loved someone, romantically, in just a few minutes by looking into the other person's eyes. It made you wonder—how long would it take you? Would you find that you did in fact love Joel Miller after just 3 minutes? Or would you find that there were more cons than pros to your relationship? Perhaps you might hate him, and this attraction was spurred on by a sadistic kind of hatred and a need to put him in a vulnerable position.
No. That seemed unlikely.
When you first met him you thought he was arrogant, manipulative, and cocky.
Now that you had spent so much one-on-one time with him, you had realized he was confident, persuasive, and fearless. He seemed impossibly skeptical because he was cautious, and he appeared bossy but that was just him being self-asserted.
You couldn't possibly blame a man for being confident when the trait suited him so well. Right now, you had just hoped he was confident enough to let you know how he felt.
Suddenly you shivered. The days had become unbearably warm but the nights were equally unrelenting with the cold.
"It's getting cold."
"Y'wanna call it a night?"
"I'd rather go inside," you shrugged blatantly as if it was not a big deal. It was. Despite how long you had known Joel and how often you were in his company, you had never been beyond this porch, never stepped into the humble residence. You pressed, watching him rather intently: "S'that weird?"
Joel's fingers were intertwined in his lap, thumbs picking at each other. There was a blank yet somehow inquisitive look in his brown eyes and you couldn't tell if it was because his mind was going over what you were offering or because the whiskey had caught up to him.
He let go of his lip with a tsk and shook his head. His gaze softened, and a faint but certain smirk tugged the corner of his mouth. "Not at all."
Joel made the move to stand up and your boot found the ground below with a thud. He grasped the two glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other, then pushed the door handle with his elbow.
Inside the walls were painted a deep orange and it reminded you of curry. Though it was not a nice color, it made the room appear warm and cozy with the lights on. There was a green couch which pretty much made up the living area. A bartop separated the kitchen from the dining room and there was a small mess atop the table where you supposed Ellie had been drawing. It was only then you noticed the art decorating the house, Ellie's drawings displayed in beautiful gold frames like in a museum. It made you chuckle.
"Where's Ellie anyway?"
Joel slouched down on the couch, arms spreading around the back and you looked over just in time to catch him parting his legs, thick thighs smothering the couch cushion, looking oh so big and handsome. What a slut, you thought.
You occupied the space left beside him, pulling your legs up under your body, and thanked him as he handed you your glass. In an effort to test the waters, you let your fingers brush over his knuckles as you accepted the drink, watching him closely. He shifted a bit, but in no way trying to distance himself from you. Your knees rested against his thigh and you could've sworn he only moved his leg closer to you.
"She's with that girl Cora."
"Flemmings?"
"Yeah."
Cora Flemmings was a sweet girl, not the type you would have guessed Ellie would want to hang out with, but you guess that's where your relationship with her ended. You had realized she was quite likable early on, witty and smart, too, but that was about it. She didn't allow a lot of people to get close, and you supposed that was fair all things considered—still, you couldn't help but feel you had let her down. It was stupid, really, but being as close a friend to Joel as you were, it felt like you should know her better.
A shared a couple of more drinks, just lounging on the couch, side by side, your shoulder pressed against his. It was not unusual for Joel to be quiet even when you would go on talking about whatever came to mind, but you noticed he was being more unresponsive than normal. You knew him too well to think he was getting drowsy from the mix of the late hour and the whiskey. His mind was on something else, and again you wanted to pry, but you knew better than to do so.
To your surprise, he let you in: "Can I tell you something?"
It was a stark contrast of serious pondering compared to the mindless rambling of life in outer space, going from negative numbers to a hundred in a split second. You were caught off guard, but tilting to look at Joel instead of the ceiling, you nodded softly.
It was difficult not to notice the tension in his body, sitting close to him and all. Feeling his chest rise with labored breaths, watching his jaw clench and loosen up, only to flex again, you realized something far deeper than extraterrestrials was on his mind.
Nothing could have prepared you for the burden he was about to unload. Joel resumed to tell you how when he had first met Ellie, she had been nothing more than precious cargo to the Fireflies, a girl believed to be immune to Cordyceps. It was his mission to get her to Salt Lake City, but when he and Ellie reached St. Mary’s Hospital, he discovered that the doctors would have to perform a brain operation. It would kill her. Everything that had happened up until that point had been for that specific moment. His bottom lip trembled as he told you he didn't even have to think about it before he grabbed the gun and started shooting. "It was easy," he said as tears welled up in his eyes. After spending months protecting and getting to know Ellie, getting to love her like his own daughter—he wasn't about to not rescue her from yet another certain death. He recalled how they'd had a brief moment before it all, where Ellie admitted she wanted to stay with Joel after the procedure. "Used it as an excuse," he cried silently. "She 'ad no idea she wouldn't come out on the other side."
Your heart sank as it all dawned on you. Everyone involved robbed Ellie of any agency at all.
What seemed to be the worst part for Joel, though, was when he lied to her. Saying she asked him point-blank to tell her the truth of what had happened back there. He spoke through gritted teeth, his gravelly voice clawing its way through his heart in his throat: "Then I told her the fattest lie."
You wanted to jump in, reassure him he did what he thought was right and at least gave her a chance of life. But you couldn't. It was too big a mouthful, too tough to swallow it all at once and give him some not-thought-through assurance.
It was a lot to take in.
You had never doubted Joel would do everything in his power to protect the ones he loved, but this—it was all too visual to get behind. Impeding finding a cure, the rampage through the hospital, the lying. It was easy to see Joel hated every part of what he had done, though he did not regret it. It was horrifying to think, but it didn't not sit right with you.
That's what parents were supposed to be, right?
Protectors.
He might have acted out of his own interest; he might have stripped her of what she believed—what she wanted to be her destiny, but he did it out of love.
You couldn't possibly sit here and say you wouldn't have gone full-on Attica to save the ones you loved. You couldn't possibly tell him you would have done the same either. In more than one way, you were much like Joel, only you hadn't had that kind of bond with anyone in a long time, and so it was impossible for you to understand everything Joel had gone through, everything he still went through.
At this point became quiet, his soft sniffles reduced to staggered breaths. His hands shook in his lap as his fingers fidgeted. You reached across and took his hands in yours, the size difference almost comical in your smaller ones.
"I hate that you went through that, Joel," you began, biting your lip as you contemplated your words. "It was... It might not have been a difficult choice then, but it's no doubt difficult to live with."
You hated to think he had done that, but you could see that he, most of all, was disgusted with himself for lying to her. That would have hurt him more than anything else he had done that day, and it was evident he hated himself for that.
You squeezed his hands between your own, prompting him to look at you.
"You did what you thought was right. You did everything in your power to protect her. You can't possibly be wrong for that."
His eyes dropped and his face contorted, beating himself up. Although his head bobbed in a quiet nod, agreeing with you, your words didn't do much to convince him.
You wanted to cry, loathing the thought that you couldn't convince him he was not a bad man, couldn't help him.
A different approach then.
You were aware that Joel possessed an innate distrust in systems: He had shared with you his experiences with the government back in the day, his experience with the Fireflies, his experience with FEDRA. Nobody had ever worked in his favor.
You were so focused on helping him that you didn't even realize you had reached up to cup his cheek. Stray tears bedewed the upper edge of his stubbles, and you caressed the patch mindlessly with your thumb. You had never been this close.
"Hey," you whispered softly, keeping his despondent brown eyes on you. It broke you but you put on a determined face. "It's okay, you're okay, Joel—you're here. Don't beat yourself up about it, it's okay."
He didn't believe that. Joel's mind was in turmoil, his thoughts turning on him, torturing him.
His eyes squinted, forcing a new wave of tears to flow and you shook him, more harshly than you meant to. "Joel, hey—hey! Look at me, look at me, Joel."
He forced himself to snap out of it, a sharp inhale clawed its way down his throat, forcing his lungs to be filled. The scent of you, the scent of a day's work and macadamia shampoo, calming his senses.
It's okay.
You're okay.
You're safe.
Finally, his labored breaths ceased and he managed to stop trembling. Bringing himself to look at you, you didn't miss the way he gulped, his expression turning soft with the remains of deep lines carving his features.
"Good, you're doing good, Joel," you praised, too close, too deep in it not to brush the fallen strings of dark, matted hair out of his face. "Look whose to say these people had any clue what they were doing? Hell, even if they did manage it—say they produced a cure—what then? How'd they distribute it? How'd they manage to cure the last of us while the Cordyceps is still out there, constantly mutating? I—I mean they might be able to save a couple hundred, maybe thousands—but what's the use? People would get infected along the way, people like us, who are safe here in Jackson, we'd go out there again and risk our lives just to get the vaccine—a-and what for? We've already lost this battle. S'it really worth saving what's left?"
As the tension of your rant died down, you suddenly became very conscious of the way you held onto Joel. Your hands had settled on his shoulders for purchase, and the fleeting thought of how fucking broad they were this up close, made shame crawl your skin.
Dropping your hands, you watched him intently, looking for signs of discomfort, hoping you hadn't gone too far.
Though his expression was difficult to read, your gut told you he was grounded again, and you boldly leaped at the opportunity to provide that last bit of assurance.
You wet your lips and sighed.
"I won't act like I know what is right and what is wrong, but I can't blame you for doing what you believed to be the moral choice. You are not the villain."
Watching as he was deep in thought, a pang of guilt struck you. On more than one occasion, had you accused Joel of being prone to overthinking. From experience, you knew that entailed tossing words around to better fit the negative narrative in one's brain, and now you worried you might have said too much to have been any help at all.
Worriedly, you spoke your mind: "I hope I didn't say too much, make matters worse."
Joel didn't look at you just yet, but he instantly shook his head. "No, no," he muttered, collecting his thoughts. Breathing in was easier now, he noted, the pinching strain in his chest changed for something else. A small chuckle escaped him and he cleared his throat and shifted in the couch to cover it up, as if he didn't mean to let it slip. Turning to you, there was a small glint in his eyes. "Thank you. Really, I… You know, wouldn't 'ave vented to you like that if I expected you to keep your mouth shut. Trust me, you didn't make me feel worse, doll."
Doll. It played on a loop in your mind.
Doll, doll, doll.
"S'good," you mumbled, eyes flickering down his chest. "Cause, you know, really ain't what I was goin' for."
Joel's chest rumbled with a chuckle. There it is again, he mused to himself. That little accent he must have rubbed off on you and that thing in his body tickled his insides again. It had been a long time since he had felt this way, but it was unmistakable.
It dawned on you that you must have been looking at him with the sickly adoration of a girl in love, for when the grin faded it was replaced by—confusion, maybe? Curiosity?
"What?" you blurted, mentally deadpanning for albeit short, it was a sweet moment of quietness and you went ahead and made it weird.
Joel then looked puzzled, his head tilting like a bewildered dog asked if it wanted to go for a walk.
Your heart missed a beat at the look in his eye, another when the brown orbs dropped and lingered on your lips. As if the air had been knocked out of you, you suddenly felt breathless, frozen in place as if struck by fear and you wondered how you could be so stupid. What else could it be—not confusion, not curiosity but the need for knowing; if the same thing that was happening to his heart was happening to yours?
"I-I—" you stammered but were quickly cut off as Joel jumped from the couch as if he had realized he was late for something.
"I, uhh," Joel interrupted though he had no better speech prepared than you had. He scratched the underside of his arm, looking both bashful and hot with embarrassment.
The silence resumed and you stood up as well, trying to figure out what the hell to do with your arms so that you wouldn't look so awkward. "Tell you what, you uh—you go clean up and I'll make a little dinner and we'll eat and I'll get outta your hairs, then." The thought of leaving didn't sound as appealing as you thought it would. Making a fool of yourself, just a second ago, ruining whatever that had been, you would have jumped at the opportunity to hide under the covers, but now—you didn't like that idea one bit. You reminded him—but mostly yourself: "We still got an early morning tomorrow."
Joel frowned, shaking his head. "No, yeah, yeah—you're right, sure."
Without another stumbling attempt at conversation, he spun around and disappeared, feet trotting to the sound of his palpitating heartbeat.
Locking himself in the bathroom, Joel immediately started cursing as he scrabbled about, ending up with his palms firmly pressed against the sink.
Finding his reflection in the mirror, he stared into his own eyes for a minute, collecting his crumbling self. "Get it together."
Stripping out of his clothes, Joel turned the faucet on and stepped into the shower, not bothering to wait for the water to get hot. He needed to cool down, anyway.
He couldn't get the moment out of his head and wondered if he had misread the entire thing. Could it be, that he had merely been so entranced by his own emotions, that he resorted to some simple wish-thinking? Perhaps you realized, coming out of the sympathetic spell, that you cared for him no more than a friend.
Joel scrubbed harder down his body, heedless to the itch that burned around his newly acquired wounds and scratches.
He couldn't get the image out of his head: The way you had looked at him as you clutched his face in your hands, comforting him—it wasn't how friends looked at each other, no matter how much they cared for one another. Joel looked for signs of the same display of affection earlier in the night, and he recalled your banter, your boot teasingly pushing at his leg, and the way you watched him over the rim of the glass.
Stepping out of the shower, he had managed to get his spiraling thoughts under control, sweep them under the carpet, if you will. Drying off, Joel was about to leave the bathroom in nothing but a towel, as one often would in their own home, but reminded himself that you were in his kitchen.
Not wanting to make you uncomfortable, he begrudgingly jumped into a fresh set of clothes, sporting a pair of sweatpants and a tee when he reappeared in the living room.
Joel cursed his own stupidity when he saw you standing there, mindlessly swaying your hips to Y Andale playing in the background (you had found his stereo) as you stirred the pot. He should have put on a pair of briefs to hold the hardening outline of his cock in place.
When you turned around to place the pot on a felt coaster on the dining table, you gave a start as you saw Joel just standing there. He looked devilishly good in the plain outfit, hair damp and slicked back.
You offered him a smirk. “Hope you don’t mind—jus’ couldn’t help myself when I noticed the stereo.”
All the reasons as to why Joel couldn't do a thing about his attraction to you, all the strength he had just mustered in the bathroom to hold himself back; it all went down the drain as he became aware of the vividly domestic setting before him.
You had little time to assess the situation as Joel closed the space between you in just four strides. Before you knew it, one large hand cupped your cheek and another pulled you close by the waist. There was a split second of that something again, and then he pressed his lips to yours.
Your eyes fluttered close and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his touch (not that you wanted to). His lips felt dangerously soft and puffy, surprisingly warm and inviting as they passionately touched your own. In a delirious moment, the fresh scent of him veiled you like a pleasant comforter after a long day at work, those plush lips wrapping around yours, nibbling, sucking—all too much and not nearly enough at the same time.
Breaking apart for air, you felt light-headed, like the room was spinning and you were hot with fever.
It looked as if the black of his pupils had swallowed up the brown of his irises. You were weak, thinking you were the root of his lust. Joel breathed your name.
"S'this okay?"
Biting your lip, you blushed. Putting it into words somehow made it seem all the more real. Even if it was a dream, you hoped you would never wake up.
You let out a shaky breath, unable to hold back the small chuckle it turned into. "You don't have to ask, Joel."
He chuckled then, too, realizing it was probably a bit too late for that anyway. The way your teeth let your lower lip go only made his cock grow harder. Holding you closer, firmer against him, Joel sucked in a breath. "F'you let me, I don't think I can stop."
You prayed he could feel your heart beating against his chest, the way you could feel his cock poke your lower stomach.
Searching for his eyes, you nudged your nose against his. "I don't think I ever want you to stop."
He didn't waste another second.
Crashing his lips to yours, the kiss was more heated than the first, showing you exactly how much he wanted you. Swiping his tongue against your lip, you let him in without hesitation, tasting him for the very first time. Tongues dancing and teeth clashing, Joel snaked his arms down your body, lifting you from under your thighs with a grunt.
You were so caught up in finding his soft spots, kissing him gingerly on his neck, that you didn't realize where he was carrying you until you were splayed out on his bed, melting into the mattress.
Eagerly reconnecting your lips, you found yourself having completely forgotten about the soup, relishing the feeling of the open-mouthed kisses Joel pressed to your skin.
Moaning as he nibbled the skin below your ear, you pulled his face back up to yours, wanting to prolong the kiss. He gave in to your desires but trailed his lips down your neck as your fingers entangled with his hair and you began writhing beneath him.
Finding that sweet spot he had only gotten to graze before you pulled him away, he brought his lips close to your ears and whispered: "You gonna let me take care o' you now?"
Too lost in the sensation, the feeling of his warm lips brushing your skin, the press of his body weight against yours, you couldn't do anything but moan, whimpering a small “please”. He could do whatever he wanted with you.
Noting the bliss you were caught in, Joel chuckled, but he was determined on an audible confirmation. Grasping you by the jaw, he forced you back down on earth. "Tell me you want me."
Brows furrowed and hips desperately bucking up, you whined and responded, "please, please, Joel—need you."
Joel had to steady himself against you, feeling his muscles weaken at the sweet, sweet sound of your begging.
"S'a good girl," murmured he, letting his hands roam every curve of your body, every hill, and every cleft. Squeezing your hip, you felt the coarse pads of his fingers caress the skin beneath your top. "Take this off f'me, yeah?"
You quickly got rid of it, not particularly eager to move your hands from his body. Joel laced his fingers through yours, pressing your hands at either side of your head as he eagerly kissed you, his warm tongue darting out of its cave to invite you to dance.
His palm kneaded your breast, a low groan escaping him which you swallowed down, moaning when his coarse thumb swiped across your nipple.
"Can I take these off, baby?" he asked lowly, and you whimpered meekly, bucking your hips up in response.
Joel worked your shorts off of you, and it seemed to get ten degrees hotter in the bedroom. He had left your panties on and as he trailed a path of wet kisses down your body, you groaned pathetically.
"Joel, please," you begged, not sure whether you wanted his fingers or his mouth, his tongue or his cock.
"I know, pretty girl, I know," he hummed, but there was little sympathy in his tone. A wanton sound escaped you when one of his fingers expertly nudged your clit, like he already knew your body like the back of his hand. "Look at you, baby, so pretty and ready f'me."
You had never given it much thought, whether Joel was one for pillow talk, but you certainly didn't mind it. You couldn't even be flustered about the mess you must have made in your panties; not when his eyes were enlivened with adoration and words laced with desire, not when his touch felt so enticing.
Joel pushed your panties aside and ran his fingers through your slick, kissing and nibbling at your inner thigh.
Moaning, a chain of pleas left your lips. Another low chuckle escaped him and you barely managed to pout down at him before his tongue darted out, collecting your arousal in a long, painfully slow lick. Eyes fluttering shut, they rolled to the back of your head while your hands clutched the sheets so hard your knuckles turned white.
"Holy—f-fuck!"
His nose, so perfectly shaped rubbed against your clit and his beard tickled your sex, making you squirm.
Joel used his hands to part your legs further, giving them a squeeze to let you know to keep them in place. His fingers spread your sex and groaned when his thumb played with the bundle of nerves.
As his tongue licked up and down your wet pussy, your legs threatened to close in on him and he must have noticed your struggling because he praised you, murmuring you were doing so good for him. You spread your legs as if on command, determined to be worthy of the praise.
While his thumb circled your clit, a finger prodded against your opening, coating it in your arousal as Joel slipped inside and he grunted. "So damn tight for me, baby girl."
So concentrated on holding your legs in place while he worked you closer to the edge, you involuntarily ground down on his hand, adding to the pressure on your clit, and felt his thick finger spread you so deliciously.
He chuckled, "y'want more, huh?" Adding another finger to the mix, he curled two digits against your spongy walls and you cried out. "I know, I know, baby. You're doing so good, pretty girl, clenchin' down real nice—fuck."
Joel allowed you to feel him as he worked his fingers in and out of your sex at a tauntingly slow rhythm, leaving you to feel the stretch when he was knuckles-deep.
"Fas—fuck! Faster Joel," you moaned, panting as you became increasingly impatient to reach the impending orgasm.
Joel watched you intently, jaw slack, and peppered open-mouthed kisses on your thighs. He picked up the pace, grinding his own hips into the mattress.
"Fuck, baby—that's it, keep makin' those pretty lil' noises for me. Doin' so good," he encouraged, feeling his mouth wet with drool.
"Please—want your cock, Joel," you whined needily.
"I know, I know, baby girl," he sympathized, squeezing your thigh as if to comfort you. It only made you shift beneath him, as his fingers seized pumping, curling against your clenching cunt. He lulled, "you can take a third, right?"
Any answer close to making itself audible was interrupted by his tongue lapping at your clit, adding to the euphoric sensation of three fingers prodding your entrance. A moan got stuck in your throat and your head slammed back down on the pillow, crying at the stretch.
Joel must've sensed your orgasm approaching for he increased the steady thrusting, his movements not once stuttering while his tongue persistently flicked your clit. A wave rushed over you as he coerced the orgasm to be ripped from your writhing body with inaudible praises, letting you ride out your frenzy on his now-soaked face.
Bleary-eyed, hands balling up the sheets, you willed yourself the strength to look down at the sight—and by God, it truly was a sight.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, revealing a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. Your cheeks flushed red, and you pulled him into your neck to hide your embarrassment, as if he hadn't just eaten you out as if his life depended on it.
Joel held your face, eyes mindlessly scanning over your features. "Don't be shy now, baby, tastes goddamn delicious," he hummed with a satisfied lull to his tone, pressing his lips to yours.
"No one's ever done that," you blurted, not entirely sure why you would even admit that.
A frown settled on his face, something resembling disbelief and amusement, and then a strained touch of lust padded over his expression. He was not hesitant to admit that only turned him on all the more. Joel’s ego even told him you had been waiting, saving yourself just for him.
You reached between you to pull down his sweatpants and Joel was happy to let you help him out of his constraints: He had had to stop grinding into the mattress while going to town for fear that he might cream his pants. That would have been embarrassing, busting like some teenager finally getting some action. Though he was touch starved, he would hate to wait any longer—he needed to finally feel you—finally be a part of you.
You had always imagined Joel would have a big cock, but your fantasy scenarios did him no justice—he was long and thick, heavy as his weeping tip pushed against your entrance, and you realized why he had insisted on stretching you out first.
Your sex lives had never been a topic brought up in conversation prior to today, but you could imagine he knew it had been a long damn time. Feeling his cock prod against your sex, you felt thankful for the forethought.
"Fuck," Joel shuddered, sheathing himself in your cunt. His forehead bumped against yours. "So damn tight f'me, baby girl."
You latched your hands onto his shoulders for support, wincing at every inch he filled you with.
Joel hadn't noticed he had been holding his breath before he bottomed out in you, a ragged groan finally releasing itself from his dry throat. He caught your heavy-lidded eyes with a boyish smirk—he could hardly believe this was happening, after so long. "How ya feelin'?"
You let out a breathy chuckle, overwhelmed by the aphrodisiac that was the mixture of his smell and his touch. "Over the fuckin' moon."
The worry vanished, wiping his face clean to replace it with another expression, a search.
You tucked him closer, grasping his ass to feel him better. "Fuck me now."
Cock twitching, saluting your command, and obeying your wish, he pulled back, thrusting his hips forward in a grinding motion that had you gasping for air, eyes rolling back.
Joel pressed sultry kisses to your neck, to your cheek, and to the corner of your mouth. Cupping your face in one palm and holding himself up by his elbow, he forced you to come back to him. "Eyes on me, pretty girl."
There's a spot inside you, one you can't recall ever reaching, but when Joel does you're sure your fingernails dig little crescents into his skin. White hot blurs your vision, a string of wanton moans and curses leaving your lips, panting. "Holy shit."
Your hands roam over the expanse of his chest as his thrusts become harder, more relentless. The sun-kissed skin warms your palms and your foreheads brush, breaths shared.
"Fuck, it's like y'were made for me," he sighed, brows creased in concentration and eyes fixated on where his cock disappeared inside your cunt. The sounds of skin slapping were so fucking vulgar and he's right, you thought, and he was made for you, too.
His rhythm was designed to make you see stars. The coil in your stomach tightened and he must have felt you squeezing around him, for the motions only became harsher, his hips crashing into yours in precise strokes.
Joel's head drooped, nose brushing your temple as he shook his head. "M'not gonna last much longer," he confessed lowly.
Dexterous fingers snaked between your sweat-licked bodies and he rubbed your clit, desperate to feel you come around his cock.
Gasping, holding onto his shoulders as he rocked your body back and forth, you forced his eyes to lock with yours. "Come inside me, Joel," you begged fervently, and you knew it was risky, very fucking risky, in fact, but you couldn't care less—you wanted to feel all of him.
The didn't deter him one bit, however, if anything it spurred him on, the jolts of his hips becoming animalistic. He found purchase on your shoulders, holding you in place so that he could better fuck up into you. His hips began stuttering, sinful groans falling from his dirty mouth. "You want me t'fill you up, yeah? Want everyone to know who you belong to? That's it, baby, come around my cock 'n I'll fill you up real good."
Losing yourself to the mind-wrangling orgasm, your legs spasmed and you cried his name, repeating it like a prayer while he fucked you through yours, chasing his own.
With one, two, three thrusts, he spilled inside you, burying his cock deep in your cunt as his purchase buckled under his weight. You didn't care that he collapsed on you—you had never felt better, never felt more full.
Coming down from your highs, you held him close even when he slumped down against your side, his softening cock slipping out of your sex.
For a few moments, you just lay there, regaining your breath, feeling the reality of it all wash back over you. It felt silly having to summon the courage to face him again, but you couldn't help the blush that colored your cheeks.
Joel spoke first. "Can't believe it took us so damn long," he mused, somewhat dumbfounded with a grimace of disbelief. You melted when his strong arm cradled you closer to his chest.
You nuzzled your face into his neck, sighing quietly along to the rise and fall of his breathing. Yawning, you drowsily mumbled, "I don't ever wanna leave your side, Joel."
Joel pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, holding you close as he felt sleep closing in on him. "You won't, sweetheart. I won't let you." Your heart was racing but sleep managed to pull you under its grasp. Joel relished the languid hum you offered in response, and he brushed the hair from your face, kissing you one last time. He could barely wait to wake up with you in the morning. "Sweet dreams, pretty girl."
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batfleshh · 6 months
Note
PLSSSS I LOVE THE SOAP X M!HYBRID! READER!!
Could you write another one one???
🥹
(Some tea, or coffee or whatever you prefer you deserve it 🍵, ☕️, 🧃 🥤)
More Soap x M!Dog Hybrid!reader
Implied continuation of this
Warnings: nsfw, life is kicking your ass, muzzles, and gay stuff, and this is kind of short
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★ the events off the week that have led up to where you are currently at now:
★ On that Monday, it was supposed to be a fresh start. You had made sure the night before you would be ready to work hard that day, being ready for any mission, task, or person that would be thrown at you throughout the week. Well that’s what you told yourself, but the way you had unintentionally slammed your own tail in the door that morning made you aware this week was going to be rough.
★ The pain eventually faded, but then it led to your hair not cooperating. So when you walked out to start your day, you felt like you looked dumb. You tried to blow off steam throughout the day, sparring with other recruits and chatting it up with everyone. You had to fill out something for the captain, but you ended up getting something wrong, leading to you being chewed out. You understood why, but it was still kind of irritating.
★ During dinner, you sat a little off to the side, Soap sitting around with the others. You didn’t wanna make a fuss about it, considering you knew, who they were. But you still felt the smallest pang of jealousy. That night when you went to clean yourself up, you ended up slamming your tail in another door, a yelp leaving your lips as the pain hit you like a truck. When you were done, you finally laid down to sleep, not being able to until the early hours of the morning. It felt like you had rested for about fifteen seconds before your door was pounded on, signaling for you to be up and out in less than five minutes.
★ The next few days when the same way, you becoming antsy with everything happening, you starting to be quite aggressive, snapping at more people than you usually do. When Soap would try to touch the top of your head, you would nip at your hand, grumbling. He stopped trying after a while, until that Friday. That Friday night, he went to touch you again, earning a quick unintentional bite to the hand. You apologized profusely, him attempting to calm you down. It wasn’t bad, but the action still made you feel horrible. After that, you just let go, tears falling from your eyes as the events that had been crashing down on you all week finally made you snap.
★ He slowly eased you to the bed, shushing you as you continued to cry to him. He listened to you rant and grumble, sniffling as your ears pressed flat against your head. He had eventually got you to calm down, you both had moved into a position with you laying on his chest, him patting your back gently. He gave you a few quick kisses on your lips, sitting himself up slowly and running his hand through your hair. Those kisses slowly turned into a make out session, Johnny grinding up against you slowly as you did it back, hips pushing down against him.
★ He kept the kiss going when he heard someone knock, choosing to ignore it. You let out soft whimpers, a little scared that person would just waltz in, not bothering to get an answer. But they never did, eventually leaving to find you both somewhere else. Soap laid you down on the bed, getting up and walking around the room, around for something. He eventually stopped when he opened a drawer, pulling out an object. He hid it behind his back, pushing your head back down onto the bed when you raised up to see what it was.
★ He eventually allowed you to raise your head up, fastening something around your head before pushing you back down. Johnny had just muzzled you, the object on your face making you whine, staring up at him.
★ “That should help ya with that bitin’ problem, pup.”, he teased, pulling you towards him. When you moved to pull at the muzzle, Soap pinned your wrists down, chuckling at the way you squirmed under him. “S all okay, doll. I’ll be sure to fuck that attitude right out of ya.” He said to you softly, asking quickly if you were okay with it all, smiling when you gave him your permission. Which is how you’re where you are now.
★ Soap didn’t even bother to lock the door, slamming his cock into you as you moan and whine underneath him. Did Johnny care if you got caught? Hell no. All he wanted was to finally relieve you of your stress, watching you unwind with his dick in you was one of his favorite sights. He continued to have your wrists pinned, your legs wrapped around his waist as you trembled. It bothered you the tiniest bit that you couldn’t kiss him, but other than that, you were fine with being muzzled. You trusted Soap enough to know when you needed it, and Johnny knew good dogs didn’t bite.
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thisismeracing · 6 months
Text
I'll always take care of you | MS47
― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x reader (she/her) ― Word count: 1.2k ― Warnings: mentions of food and sickness; overall fluff.  ― Summary: The flu caught you out of the blue, and completely unprepared, good thing you have your boyfriend around to take care of you. ― A/n: This piece was based on this request. This is a special piece for my mick schumacher sick girlies (gn) club (as many of us were sick this week). I hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know your thoughts by reblogging and/or leaving me an ask (anons are on) *mwah* 🤍
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Mondays are usually good days for you.
Though the week starts on Sundays, for you, they truthfully get going on Mondays. Mondays are when classes and work are back in full swing and when you make a list of everything you need to do for the week. When you are energized to clean your room, and when Mick comes home from races.
This Monday, though, you wake up with a cough, a runny nose, and your head pounding. It’s terrible. It doesn’t take you long to realize that it’s the flu and it’s not going away in time for you to get to work and classes, so you text your supervisor and send an e-mail to your professor, leaving your cell phone back on the nightstand and trying to sleep it off at least a little bit.
It gets worse after five minutes. Your whole body is aching and you wanna cry from stress because why couldn’t it happen any other day? Why today? You shrug the covers off, get Angie some food, get your water bottle, and some painkillers, and go back to bed. This time, the wiggly dog lies on your feet, as if she sensed something was wrong.
That was the first signal for Mick. Every Monday when he comes back from wherever he was in the world, Angie is at the door eager to greet him, but this time the apartment holds a weird silence, and there’s no signal of his dog. You also hadn’t answered his messages earlier this morning, something you would always do because, by the time he got home, you were up and running with your things.
He takes off his shoes, leaves his luggage by the entrance, and makes the short trek to your shared bedroom, a million thoughts going through his head. All of them dissipating when he opens the door and sees your sleeping form along with Angie lying on the bed. His shoulders drop in relief, only to go up again when your body moves on the bed, a nasty cough scratching your throat and making you whimper in pain.
Mick is by your side in a heartbeat.
Angie watched everything attentively as if knowing that he would talk to her soon, that right now her mom needed dad more.
You sit up reaching for the water, and finally notice Mick by your side.
“Babe,” you start but the coughing fits interrupt.
The blonde by your side passes your water bottle while rubbing your back, a worried look on his graceful features, “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick, Schatzi?”
And though there’s no judgment on his tone, you feel like crying, particularly because you’re sick, but also because you feel emotional. Of course, you know that Mick would always take care of you, but going through it was a completely different story, “It started earlier this morning,” you explain, taking a sip of your water again.
“Did you call your boss and your professor? Want me to do it?”
You nodded, then shook your head, “I already did, thanks though.”
“Have you eaten?”
And this time your eyes go to the ground. You know he’s about to huff a worried reply, but you’re too tired to try and explain, so you just lie back and watch as Mick kisses your forehead and starts changing his clothes, putting on his grey sweatpants and white shirt while telling you that you’re burning and he’s going to call the drugstore down the block to drop off some meds.
You hum in agreement. He pets Angie, leaving a kiss on her waiting head, but when he leaves she doesn’t follow, staying planted on the bed with you.
“Angie, sweet angel, you can go with Dad, I know you missed him,” you talk as if she would understand. Angie wiggles her tail, gets up from the bottom of the bed, and lies with her head on your belly.
You smile, caressing her fur, and it's not long before you’re falling asleep again.
You wake up minutes later, with Mick telling you to open your mouth while he’s scooping some kind of medicine in a spoon. You protest but drink it anyway, making faces at how sour it tastes.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Terrible, I can’t breathe through my nose, and I’m cold, but I’m also burning.”
His fingers brush on your cheek, “Yeah, you have a fever, but I just gave you something to get the fever down. I’ll keep putting cold compresses on your forehead, but you can keep napping, okay?”
His soft tone makes your lips turn into a pout, some tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, “Baby, you’re gonna get sick too, no. I can take care of mys–”
Mick shakes his head, “I’m your boyfriend, I’m taking care of you. And besides, I’m an athlete, I won’t get sick that easily.”
Mick could very well be stubborn when he wanted to, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, sighing, “At least put on a mask.”
“Can I get a kiss first?”
You turn your head to him so fast you almost get whiplash, your brows are furrowed and your lips parted, “Are you out of your mind, Schumacher?”
He gifts you with a belly laugh, throwing his head back and showing you the milky skin of his neck. You so wanted to kiss it. And his pink plush lips too. But you couldn’t, and you told him this much.
“Yeah, I was messing with you, princess.”
You huff.
“Now, get comfortable, I’m gonna grab my mask. Your soup is almost ready,” he says, standing up from his sitting position on the bed.
“I’m not hungry,” you whine, lying down and bringing Angie close to you, snuggling on her soft fur.
“You gotta eat to get better soon, Schatzi.”
You mumble something not even you can understand, and Mick chuckles, walking back to the bed and sitting beside you. He brushes your cheek and holds your jaw, holding your eyes to his. You’re sick, you’re tired, and you have a headache pounding on your head nonstop, and a nasty running nose, but those blue orbs staring at you sure made your body tremble, all warm and fuzzy. His head dips and he takes the covers from your legs, just enough so his lips can find your naked thighs. He kisses there, and then your belly, and the inside of your wrist. There’s nothing sexual about it, he’s just kissing what he knows you would classify as a safe spot, far from your coughs, and snout.
Mick misses you though you are in front of each other right now.
And you miss him just as much.
“We went a week away, you really wanna make it more than it needs to be?”
You open your mouth, but then just drop your demeanor, shaking your head.
“Good, because I miss snuggling with you and kissing you, and we won’t be able to do it while you’re sick, right?” You nod. “I wouldn’t mind getting sick for you though.”
“Nope,” you pop the p. “Not happening. You’re sleeping in the guest bedroom until I get better.”
“Then you’re eating and taking all the meds I bring,” there’s a determination in his tone, and you can’t help but nod. “We have a deal?”
You nod reluctantly and shake hands with him. There’s a winning smile on his face, “good, I’m bringing the compresses and the soup.” 
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sturniololoco · 4 months
Text
Stressed
M. Sturniolo x fem reader
Requested: Nope
Warnings: none. Pure fluff
Note: this is not my first time writing, but it is my first time posting. SO BE NICE! ❤️
Y/N’s POV
It’s been a long week. My stress levels have been through the roof since Monday morning. I’ve been having to work double shifts due to people slacking off, and on top of all that I had to do all the cooking, cleaning, and laundry for three people, NOT including myself.
I live with the Sturniolo triplets, which is one of my many blessings. But sometimes living with three boys can be a lot to handle, especially when they’re busy all week with filming and photo shoots.
But it was finally Friday, and I can now take my time to relax and watch a movie with the boys.
Only that was NOT the case
Friday meant pizza, and pizza meant movie, and movie meant fighting over couch spots, blankets, pillows, and etc. All of these things led to on stop bickering and a constant headache. 
“Chris! What the fuck is wrong with you that was my seat!” Nick yelled at the youngest triplet, who had the biggest smirk on his face.
“I don’t see your name on it.” Chris retorted, stuffing a handful of Nicks popcorn into his mouth. 
That set Nick off.
Nick and Chris were now girl fighting; smacking the others faces and pulling each others hair, while, as usual, being extremely loud. 
“I cant fucking do this anymore” I numbed under my breath, tears threatening to leaf all due to my horrible headache. I divided it was best to call it a night and head up to my room. 
Matt’s POV
I was sitting on the corner sot on our couch, waiting for Y/N to come and join us so I could press play on the movie. But then all hell broke loose over a spot on the couch and now Nick and Chris were having at it. 
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Y/N walking to the stairs, looking like shes about to cry. 
A pang of guilt hits me like a train. 
I know shes had a very stressful week at work, and my brothers and I were not helping. 
“HEY! Would you two shut the fuck up!”
My two brothers stop dead in their tracks and look at me, shocked that I raised my voice so loud. Chris opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off. 
“Did you two not see how upset and stressed Y/N was?!? Did you even notice she left because of you?”
Chris closed his mouth and gave a guilty look. Nick looked at the ground to avoid my stare. 
“You two better fix your fucking act by the time I get back. I’m going to check on        Y/N.” I announce, leaving them where they stand. 
I head to the kitchen, grab the bottle of Tylenol and bottle of water, and then make my way up stairs. 
Y/N’s POV
I soon as I turned my lights on and shut the door behind me, Immediately burst into tears. I walk across the room and collapsed on my bead, sobbing into my pillow. 
After about 5 minuets, my breathing slowed down and the tears turned into rain rarer than a river. As soon as I sit up I hear a soft knock on my door. 
“Come I-In” I say, mentally cursing that the crack in my voice. The door is softly pushed open, revealing Matt, holding a bottle of Tylenol and some water.
“Hey baby,” he says, walking over and putting the medicine and water on my nightstand. He sits down next to me and runs a slow hand through my hair.
I hum and lean into him, the motion soothing my headache. He lets out a light chuckle and pulls me closer to him. 
He gently lies back on the bed with me lying on top of him, my face in the crook of his neck.
“Why don’t you get some sleep baby, you look exhausted.” He murmurs softly in my ear while he plants a soft kiss to the top of my head. My eyes were already half way closed.
“Don’t leave me. I want you.” I mumbled, afraid he might leave in the middle of the night.
“Don’t worry baby, I’m not going anywhere” 
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ofstarsandvibranium · 7 months
Text
Seven: Monday
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Moon Boys x F!Reader
Summary: You’re a workaholic, but now that you’re on a week’s vacation, your lives are going to take FULL advantage of your presence aka the Moon Boys keep you in bed for a whole week.
Warning: smut - oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting
A/N: inspo was Seven by Jungkook 🤪
Series Masterlist
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You were the head of your own business. A company that helps at danger youth. You knew the importance of this which is why you never allowed yourself a break. At first, Marc, Steven, and Jake admired this about you. You were so passionate to help the world's future leaders, but you sacrificed a lot of yourself for it. Your loves understood what it meant to sacrifice yourself for something. But they couldn't watch you go through it any further. So, eventually, they convinced you to take a week off from work.
Your company would be left in good hands, you knew this because you hand picked your co-CEO...and because they were your best friend.
The first day of your vacation, you woke up early due to habit. Marc was still fast asleep so you decided you'd make breakfast for the both of you. You were plating everything when he woke up. He sat up in bed, shirtless and only in sleep pants.
You smile at him and pad your way to him, "Morning," you peck his lips and he immediately grabs you by the back of your thighs and pulls you onto his lap.
"Why are you up before me? You should be sleeping in," his mumbles, nose grazing against yours.
"Force of habit. I made breakfast so let's-" you whelp as Marc rolls you both over. You're now laying flat on the bed and he's hovering over you.
"I was going to make us breakfast."
"I beat you to it."
"Maybe so, but I need to thank you now," he slides down your body until he's off the bed and kneeling at the edge. He grabs your legs and pulls you closer to him. Your legs now hanging off his shoulders. He gives you a smirk as he pushes your sleep shirt up to reveal your underwear.
"Yeah, I think I know what I'm eating for breakfast," he says.
You laugh, "Alright. I hear you," you say as you push your underwear down and slipping one leg out. The garment hanging off your other leg.
He starts with pressing kisses up your thigh until he reaches your core. He gives you a little kiss there before spreading you open. He licks a stripe and you hum in delight. With his left hand, he keeps you open and with his right, he uses his thumb to draw circles on your clit. You writhe under the combination of his touch and his tongue.
"Fuck, Marc," you moan out and he smiles into your pussy, proud that he's causing you to melt right before him.
He fucks you with his tongue, his scruff scraping against your inner thighs adding some pain to the pleasure. You love it and he knows you do.
Marc comes up for air, "How you feelin', baby?"
"So fucking good. Want more."
"You want more?" You nod and Marc's fingers go to your entrance, "How much more do you want, hm? You want one finger?" he asks as he slowly inserts his middle finger.
You shake your head and he smirks, "No? Two then?" his forefinger joins his middle one.
"More, Marc, please," you beg.
Marc grins at you, "Three, huh? You fuckin, greedy aren't you?" he asks as he inserts his ring finger.
"Fuuuuck, yeeees!" you cry out and Marc pumps his fingers in and out of you.
"So sexy baby, taking my fingers," he mumbles as he lowers his head, tongue swirling around your clit.
"Cum on my fingers, sweetheart. I know you want to," he murmurs against your pussy.
You reach down, weaving your hand through his messy curls. You give them a tug, causing Marc to moan. It was your turn to grin.
You hold Marc's face in place as you grind your pussy up into his mouth. He's still moving his fingers in and out of you. He looks up to see the desperation and lust in your eyes. He loves to see you like this.
"Shit, I'm close!" you warn him. His fingers and tongue work faster, he wants you to cum, wants to feel you clench down on his fingers when you do.
"Fuck, fuck! Marc!" you cry out and that familiar wave of pleasure takes over your body as you cum. You hear the gushing and feel the wetness pool around you as you cum on his fingers.
"There we go. Atta girl. That's my baby. Fuck, that's it," he helps you through your orgasm until it becomes to much and you're pushing him away.
Marc pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, "So fucking delicious," you murmurs. He groans as he gets up from his knees and you laugh.
He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, ha, ha. I know. I'm getting old." He collapses onto the bed beside you and you kiss his cheek.
"My sexy old man."
"Hey, this sexy old man made you cum all over his fingers," he smirks, pecking your lips, "You hungry now?"
You nod, "You?"
He gives you a toothy grin, "I think I'm good for now."
You roll your eyes and sit up, pulling your underwear on and looking at the wetness you left on the floor and bed, "You're cleaning this up."
"Why me? You did that."
"Yeah, but I wouldn't have done it if it weren't your fingers that caused it. So you clean it up."
He snorts, "Fine."
"Love you."
"Love you too, baby."
What a way to start your Monday.
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gingiesworld · 8 months
Text
Keeping Distance
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MILF Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader
Warnings: A little angst maybe.
Part 3 to Culinary Lessons/ Previous Part
18+ MINORS DNI
Vision was soon charged with manslaughter and sentenced to 15 years imprisonment while Wanda had filed for divorce with the help of her brother. Vision wasn't happy at all when he was served the papers so that he was tackled by the guards.
Billy and Tommy had heard about what he had done to their neighbour, although Wanda wanted to tell them everything, she thought that maybe she should wait until they're a little older before she told them everything.
She had also noticed someone was hanging around Y/N's house. A blonde woman would come back late in the evening and leave early in the morning. Of course Wanda had called the hospital every day to see how Y/N was. They were finally awake but Wanda couldn't bring herself to visit them herself as she blamed herself for Vision's actions.
"Her name is Yelena." Pietro informed as he approached his twin. "She is Y/N's sister in law."
"Sister in law?" Wanda questioned.
"Their ex wife's sister." He told her. "She is staying here making sure that everything is ready for them coming home."
"They're coming home?" Wanda questioned.
"You never really did tell me what actually happened for Vis to go all Mr Sinister on them." He stated as Wanda shook her head as she looked down shamefully.
"I have dishes to do." She stated as she walked away with her twin following her.
"Just tell me what happened?" He questioned as he closed the door behind them.
"Y/N and I, I was teaching them how to cook so they would be able to cook proper meals for their daughter and." Wanda started as Pietro soon knew were this was going. "I didn't mean for it to happen. It did and the worst part is, I am not sorry that I fell for them."
"But Vision?" He questioned.
"Was barely ever here." Wanda told him. "Even when he was here, he wasn't really here."
"That's no." Pietro started before he was cut off.
"I know that's no excuse for what I did. Also what I did was no excuse for Vision to do that. Almost taking someone's life." Wanda yelled at him. "It's all my fault. All of it is my fault." She whispered as she started to cry, which Pietro just wrapped his arms around her and held her.
"Everything will be ok Wanda." He told her softly. "Everything will be ok."
"I'm pregnant." Wanda confessed as Pietro moved away from her. "And it's Y/N's."
"Wanda." He sighed as he pinched his nose. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't know." She whispered. "I'm scared Piet. I don't want to spring this on them when they come home soon and well the ink is only just drying on the divorce."
"Well, they deserve to know Wanda. Sooner rather than later." He told her. "They come home on monday, maybe talk to them on Tuesday or anytime after that." With that he left.
The following Monday morning, Y/N was getting themselves ready as fast as they could as they couldn't wait to go home.
"This one wanted to see you and take you home." Natasha, Y/N's ex wife spoke as Y/N smiled at a happy Lila.
"Well, I can't wait to go home." They stuttered slightly as Natasha looked at them with concern on her face. "I'm ok." They told her as they caught her eyes.
"You ready?" Yelena asked as she brought a wheelchair.
"All ready." They told them. Yelena helped them into the chair as Natasha got the bag and Y/N's crutches. Lila climbed onto Y/N's lap carefully as Yelena pushed the chair towards the exit.
The journey back to Y/N's was silent for the most part, Lila was singing softly to the music as Natasha watched Y/N with a careful eye as Yelena drove. Once everyone was settled, Yelena went to make some tea with the help of Lila as Nat sat in the chair and watched Y/N carefully.
"Why did he attack you?" Natasha questioned as Y/N shook their head.
"I am not talking about this right now Natasha." They told her sternly.
"Seriously Y/N, you were literally on death's door when you were rushed to hospital. It broke Lila's heart that her O'pa might not make it." She seethed as she moved to sit beside them so they could talk quietly.
"He caught me with his wife." They whispered. "In the kitchen, he came over looking for her and saw us through the window and got a wrench from my shed before letting himself inside."
"You cheated." Nat scoffed.
"You're one to talk." They spat at her. "How is Steve by the way? The wedding coming along nicely?"
"Don't." Nat seethed as Y/N just shook their head with a laugh. "You have no right."
"What? Did that hurt when you cheated on me with your now fiancè?" They sneered as Nat just shook her head.
"After lunch, I am taking Lila home and she will see you on break as planned." Nat stated as she stood up and walked out of the house. Standing in the driveway as she looked around the area, noticing that it is a nice suburban area and the houses were all beautiful in their own way.
Wanda watched from her window as the red head stood with her hands on her hips. She wondered if that was the woman who introduced herself to Pietro as Yelena. She soon noticed a little girl, around the twins age run outside and drag her inside the house. The little girl shared a lot of traits with Y/N except the hair, she had her mother's hair. She watched as the blonde woman she has seen quite often come outside and start to talk.
"I'm going to stay here." Yelena told Natasha who just nodded with pursed lips. "They need someone with the Natasha, they're still recovering." Nat just scoffed as she spotted Wanda watching through the window.
"Stay with Auntie Lena." She told Lila as she walked across the street to the Maximoff residence, knocking abruptly on the front door. "You're the psycho's wife." She stated once Wanda opened the door.
"Well, ex wife." Wanda corrected her.
"Well, ex wife. Stay away from Y/N." She told her. "My daughter almost lost her O'pa and so help me god, I will kill you myself." With that she walked away as Wanda just watched. Her heart beating rapidly as she watched Natasha and Lila drive off, Yelena giving Wanda a small wave before she disappeared inside.
As the weeks went on, Wanda found herself starting to show slightly. Those with small narrow minds would think she had just put on some weight. Although, the first time Wanda had seen Y/N since that night, she couldn't bare to approach them. The two only shared a look, but a small smile appeared on Y/N's face before Wanda turned around and locked herself inside. Her body trembling as her breathing increased rapidly as the tears started to fall as she collapsed to the ground.
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blingblong55 · 9 months
Text
Playdate - John Price
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F!reader, angst, smut, MDNI, 18+
They say love is only for the brave. It is a dangerous trap to fall into and at this point, you wish he came with a warning sign. That's why it's best to just play the game and not try to rule it.
We're just playing hide-and-seek It's getting hard to breathe under the sheets with you I don't want to play no games I'm tired of always chasing, chasing after you
It all started as a one-night stand. Left just like that, you thought about that good night every now and then. I wish for just another night where all your fantasies and wildest dreams come to life. Then, one phone call from him turned it into what it is now. Sex and no feelings, that's the game.
Late-night calls turn into early-morning shame walks. As his body pleased yours in many ways, you always found yourself wanting more. You missed his kisses when he was gone, missed how he made you his, how his lips claimed you over and over, marking you with his scent, taste and love.
But all good or bad love must come to an end or carry extra worry and regret. As the days, weeks and months go by, you find yourself needing more. I want to spend dreary Mondays together, stay in bed on Sundays and go on dates some Wednesdays. Unfortunately, he does not. It is no lie or secret he sleeps with other women, you are just the toy he uses on Fridays or Saturdays.
You found yourself getting ready, asking him questions about his day but before you could properly ask, he would already be undressing or kissing you. At nights when you knew he was either sleeping with another woman or if he was away on a 'business trip' (deployment), you would find yourself caring for him more, hoping he'd make his flight to and from his trip safely. You would cry when you'd see couples walk hand in hand on sunny afternoons.
Why did you care so much for a man who barely gave you any actual love? Easy, his nature, the jokes and the way he would speak to you when alone were always what had you making excuses to drive to his place time after time. Maybe it isn't the smartest choice for someone who desperately is trying to leave this side spectrum but what can one do.
"Oh you are so wet for me, c'mon baby...cum for me...I know you want to." His voice is so low and so sexy. Tears run down as you become even more sensitive to touch, he wipes your tears away. "Shh, it's okay, just let it happen, you are so close...c'mon pretty girl." he cooed.
And there you were, 12 a.m., on the way to his house. The ideal bachelor place for a man like him. You slowly begged for more attention after that night. Sent him pictures in lingerie or nothing on. Videos would be exchanged throughout the week and that's how you thought he'd be giving you more of his time. But, love is for fools and Johnathan Price is no fool. A man like him knows no word like love.
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A/N: I know its short, but I mean...its good right?
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justtwotired · 4 months
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Whispers of the night - Lloyd Garmadon x F!reader
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Part 1 - previous - next
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Tag list: @whore-of-many-hot-men
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Your POV:
The weekend passed by without much events, I trained with my father on Sunday as always and Monday morning I opened my bedroom door to find Greenie already there, waiting.
I grinned at him, tilting my head slightly to the side. “Greenie, good to see you again,” I said, even though I was pretty sure I saw him at the hang out on Friday, but then without the mask and the gi.
“Hey,” he just answered and my smile fell. “Are you still mad at me?” I asked and he shrugged, making huff and walk past him down the stairs.
Was that why Lloyd was so quiet Friday? Because he was still upset with me? Maybe me running away really was that bad…
I quickly ate breakfast, bickering with my brother at the table, before greenie drove me to school where we both went different ways.
He went to the teachers room and I headed to the lockers where James, Charlie and Flora already stood to wait.
“Yes! You’re here, now I don’t have to third wheel with this couple.” James happily said and I chuckled as Flora gave him an offended look while Charlie rolled his eyes.
“We kissed, once, and he almost started crying,” Flora pointed out making me give James a look. “Are you do sad that you’re single, Jamie?” I asked and he blew a raspberry at me.
I silently shook my head and opened my locker to grab my books and quickly shot a look in the mirror that I had taped to my locker door.
I noticed someone behind me and turned around to see the twins making their way over to us.
“N/n, we just bumped into your ninja,” Arthur said with a grin, “he told us to keep an eye on you, and to keep you out of trouble” Anthony nodded.
I scoffed. “Are you serieus?” I asked. “Serious as can be,” they both said and I huffed. “Jezus Christ, why can’t he just piss off?” I complained and slammed my locker shut.
“Oh, are you two arguing then?”James asked interested. I just shrugged and pursed my lips.
“He’s still mad at me for running, it was so silent in the car ride here, it’s never silent, he didn’t say a word to me,” I said and Charlie shrugged.
“I mean, it’s fair if you ask me, you did run from him and it’s his job to protect you, if you purposefully run, he’s going to be upset with you because you weren’t being responsible,” he said and he groaned.
“Did you hear him when we got to the motorcycle?” I asked and they shook their heads. “He was so angry,” I said, looking around the group. “Going on about him not being there if something happened and how he’d be upset with himself if something did happen to me and he wasn’t there,” I explained.
While the boys just looked confused, Flora was grinning and I gave her a slight glare as she wiggled her eyebrows at me, letting me know what she was thinking.
I told her to shut up with my eyes and she gave me a ‘but you know I’m right’ look back making me roll my eyes.
“Alright, what is going on here?” Arthur asked a bit lost. “Don’t kind them, they do it all the time,” Charlie said tiredly.
“Yeah, Lu and Millie are in on it too,” James nodded with a scrunched up nose.
“Talk about the devils,” Charlie said and nodded to the direction he was looking at. We all turned to see Luna and Amelia making their way towards me while chuckling.
“Did you run away again, n/n?” Luna asked and I shook my head. “No? Why?” I wised and the two girls exchanged looks before laughing.
“Your ninja just asked us to keep an eye out for you after saying we shouldn’t ask and expect of you to do stupid things,” Amelia said and I scoffed at this, he told it to them aswel.
At this point I was fuming, he shouldn’t bother my friends with this crap, and he definitely shouldn’t scold them for my ideas.
After school I texted him that I would wait by the car and he read it before going offline.
I leaned against the car and I saw him making his way towards me. I was leaning against the drivers seat door so he stood in front of me, waiting for me to move, yet I didn’t.
“You’re a dick, you know that?” I asked angrily and his eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?” He asked and I huffed.
“You asked my friend to keep an eye on me, may I remind you that that’s your job, not theirs?” I poked a finger against his chest.
“I am doing what I have to to protect you,” he said and I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t even start with that talk. You had no right to ask my friends to do your job. Me running from you was not their idea, so if you have a problem or want to be mad at someone, then here you go, here I am, but don’t even dare accuse my friends and then ask them to watch over me like their my fairy godmothers or something.”
“Right then,” he said, “get in the car,” he told me and I looked at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?” I asked and he gave me an unamused look. “Honestly, fuck you,” I said before opening my car door and getting in without much of a word.
When we got home I went upstairs, not speaking a word to him, if he wanted to be a dick, fine.
I opened my phone to text Lloyd but I sighed when I remembered they were most likely the same person.
I just sat on my bed and read a book, trying to ignore the urge to step outside of my bedroom and just hug greenie and tell him I’m sorry and please can we just go and get some sweets to eat in the park.
After about an hour someone knocked on my bedroom door and I looked up. “Who is it?” I asked and I heard greenies voice on the other side.
“It’s me,” he said and I contemplated for a moment before mumbling a “come in,”
He entered and I met his eyes, I was surprised to find guilt hidden behind them.
“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone to your friends to accuse them and ask them to look after you,” he said with a sight as he leaned against the doorframe. “I’m just worried about you, alright?” He said and I nodded.
“I’m sorry to,” I mumbled and leaned my head back against the wall. “I shouldn’t have ran from you and I should’ve talked to you instead of immediately getting mad,” I admitted and he tilted his head to the side slightly.
I grinned at him for a moment. “Want to get sweets and then go to the park?” I asked and I noticed by his eyes that he grinned. “It’s like you read my mind,” he said and I chuckled and got out of bed.
We walked across the street with our bag of candy when suddenly there were gunshots. My eyes went wide and I looked around to try and spot the shooter.
Greenie didn’t waste time with getting in front of me and taking out his sword.
“Pixal, are you there?” He said, probably in his communication devise. “I have shots fired at Y/n and I need back up right now, at least five men, all armed,” he spoke.
He was right there were five men coming from every direction, surrounding us. There weren’t any other people around, just five men armed with different kinds of weapons.
Greenie and I stood back to back, he himself taking the side so he stood between me and the two guys with a gun. One arm held his sword and the other was around my waist.
I quickly took the dagger I had hidden on my and hoped I could use it against the man with the sword coming my way.
“Listen, no one has to get hurt if you just give us the girl.” One said and Greenie let out a humourless laugh. “You’re a funny one, aren’t you? I’d rather die,” he said and the man grinned.
“If you wish so,” he said and went to shoot but was suddenly frozen in a cube of ice.
The white ninja appeared followed by the earth ninja.
“Stay here,” greenie said to me and went to take out one of the men aswel.
I watched as the three ninja fought and more people appeared then expected.
I was caught by surprise when I felt someone grab my arm. I quickly freed myself and then dodged a punch he threw at me.
The next punch he tried to land, I caught his fist and turned it behind his back before kicking him, making him fall to the ground.
Greenie was suddenly next to me and looked at the man on the ground. “I was caught up with something, but I see you handled that yourself,” he said rather proud.
Before I could answer he shoved me behind him and attacked someone who was ready to grab me.
Suddenly a knife was pressed against my neck and an arm sneaked around my waist to hold me in place.
“Everyone drop your weapons or the girl gets it!” He yelled and the three ninja turned to look and quickly let go of their weapons.
“Hey, let her go man,” greenie took a step forward making the knife press harder against my neck. He quickly stayed rooted to the spot and watched helplessly as the person holding me slowly backed away towards a car not far from us.
I saw the panick in Greenie’s eyes and couldn’t think of anything, if I moved, my throat could be cut, I couldn’t move move my arms and the ninja couldn’t get close.
“What are you going to do with her?” The green ninja quickly asked hoping to buy some time. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” The guy holding me snarled.
“What do you need from us to let her go?” He tried taking a step forward but stopped when he saw the knife inching closer. “Her father would know the answer to that,” the man said and I scoffed.
“Yeah, he doesn’t, just so you know, he owns five different companies and your letters are pretty vague, he has shut down multiple things in hope it would be the right one, but uh, always a misser,” I said and the man stopped walking for a moment.
“You think it has something to do with the his company’s? How daft is your family?” He asked and I frowned. “Then what is it you want from us?” I asked and he groaned.
“You really can’t think of anything in your family that needs to be stopped, you stupid girl?” He spat and suddenly it hit me.
The threats wanted my father to stop with something and otherwise something would happen to me, not any of his other kids, just me.
Kind regards A…
“You work for Alistor,” I said and the man laughed. “Ding ding ding,” he said as if I just won an arcade game.
Allistor was a man who had been friends with my father for a long time, he knew about my father’s powers to create illusions.
When I was born with those same powers, Alistor started saying I shouldn’t be taught and that those powers could destroy things.
My father had argued saying the only way he or I would use the powers is to either help people or do nothing much with it.
Alistor had later apologised and my father forgave him. One night, when they had been drinking, Alistor admitted he was jealous of the powers, making my father a bit wary.
That same night, he proposed that with my fathers powers and his ideas, they could take over Ninjago, with my help.
My father shut down the idea immediately and cut off contact, he had gotten calls and visits from Alistor saying that if he wouldn’t work with him, he should just stop training me and using his powers at all.
We had been suspecting one of dads business rivals the whole time, but it had not been Amond, it had been Alistor.
Suddenly, the grip on me loosened and my attacker fell unconscious. When I turned around, the red ninja stared at me with a grin. “You’re welcome,” he said, winking.
Just like that, the three ninja picked up their weapons again and started taking down the goons again.
Now the other ninja had joined aswel and soon enough there weren’t any goons left. The police arrived shortly after and so did my parents.
My father hugged me and held me tight, followed by my mother.
“I know who’s behind it all, dad,” I said and he looked at me expectantly. When I told him, his eyes widened en it seemed to all connect and make sense in his head.
Without hesitation he quickly took aside a police officer and explained it all. Three police cars left to head towards Alistors house while one left to get a search warrant as fast as possible.
I exchanged looks with greenie who was also talking to a police officer and he smiled at me, making me smile back.
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folkloresthings · 9 months
Note
hello lovely!! can i request NORTHANGER ABBEY with carlos and exes to lovers? thank you 💌
ugh yes??? second chance romance my fave
SECOND CHANCE. ❨ carlos sainz x reader ❩
✩⡱ warnings: slight sexual buildup but no smut
when people asked you what happened between carlos sainz and yourself, you never really had an answer. it had been a strange breakup, one that built and built over months, and then broke in the space of one night. you had wanted different things. you were ready to settle down, get a house, commit to starting a family. but carlos was at the peak of his career — his main focus was on racing. you needed more than he could give.
the actual fight had been a catastrophe. him shouting, you crying, doors slammed. the cool down consisted of him on his knees, grabbing at your legs on the couch, trying to reason. but you knew you couldn’t stay, it was pointless. so you left. you packed your bags and left the next morning. three years, all for nothing.
it had been just over a year since that terrible day, and you hadn’t heard from carlos once. you kept up with his races, still fully supporting him. you didn’t hate each other — and it only made things so much harder.
“come on, you deserve a break!” your best friend insisted, clicking button after button and booking your trip before you could even argue.
monaco. you hadn’t been back since you left carlos, and the prospect scared you. but you braved the memories, distracting yourself with your girlfriends and anything you could. you spent your days on the beach, your nights in clubs and cocktail bars. for some reason, amongst it all, you’d forgotten carlos still lived here.
nipping out one afternoon to pay a visit to your old favourite bakery, your mind was clear. a coffee and your favourite pastry in hand, you were actually happy. enjoying yourself. until you bumped into a figure that smelled an awful lot like your ex—boyfriend.
“mierda, sorry—” he grabbed your forearms, steadying you both. freezing, his eyes meet yours and he falls silent. you can’t stop staring at him, not really believing that he was real. actually there, close enough to touch, for the first time in a year.
“hi.” it leaves you in one breath. carlos smiles, glancing between you and the bakery.
“back for an apple pastry?” he teases and you turn sheepish, cheeks burning. “i didn’t know you were in town.”
“just for a vacation,” you tell him, only realising then that he’s still got a hold of you, chests practically pressed together. you clear your throat, stepping back. you had pictured this moment so many times, what you would say, and now it was done. the moment gone and you wished you could go back and do it a little better.
carlos nods, taking all of you in. you looked… amazing. your skin was glowing, thanks to a few days in the sun. you were still as beautiful as the day he met you. you were even prettier in real life, rather than the images that plagued carlos’ mind every night.
“how long are you here for?” he asks, and your brows raise. you knew where this was going, but you didn’t have the power to stop it.
“until monday.” three more days. “why?”
“no, no reason. maybe we could… catch up? i’ll make you dinner. your favourite pasta,” he offers, blinking down at you with those big brown eyes, and how can you say no?
he’s got a new apartment now, and you’re glad, because you’re not sure you could face the home you shared together. you knock twice before he lets you in, taking your coat and pouring your favourite wine. the pasta he always used to make for you simmers on the stove, the smells taking you back to your date nights together.
“it’s as good as ever,” you tell him after your first bite, nostalgia filling your taste buds. carlos smiles proudly. he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since you stepped through the door, your cheeks constantly tinted pink.
still, the conversation was flowing like no time had passed, like nothing had happened between you. you’d been together for three whole years, it was easy to fall back into that routine again. a glass of wine or so later, you were curled up on the couch, telling him about everything that happened at christmas — the first christmas he hadn’t been to since you first got together.
somewhere between your mother’s roast potato meltdown and your grandfather’s six glasses of whiskey, his hand had found it’s way to your thigh, warm and big. your breath hitched, eyes warning as they dart to his.
“carlos…” you whisper, feeling yourself slip the closer he gets.
“mi alma,” he counters, his other hand grazing across your brow, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.
“we shouldn’t. we can’t,” you insist, but you sound less convincing than you intend. his hot breath ghosts over your lips, his taste so close.
“tell me to stop, and i will,” carlos meets your eyes, wide and pleading. he needs you, he’s needed you for twelve months. “one word and i’m done.”
your lips open, ready to speak, but nothing comes out. you can’t say no, because you don’t want to. any logic is gone from your mind, flooded with a love that never really went away.
in a moment, carlos presses his lips to yours. both of you fall into each other, fall into what you know so well. hands grasping at your clothes, teeth clashing and tongues hot, trying to get impossibly close. it was dizzying. carlos had always been a good kisser, but a starved man savoured his first meal like it was heaven sent.
his hands dipped lower, slipping under your top and to the warm skin underneath. palming at your chest, teasing but desperate, lips dipping to suck at the supple flesh of your throat. he pulls whines from you like an expert, your fingers grasping at the mess of brown locks upon his head. it’s longer now, you like it.
“wait, wait,” you mutter, pushing him back by the chest. so many thoughts running through your head, but it goes blank when he looks at you. pupils blown wide, hair messy, lips wet and swollen. he’s angelic, a sculpture on display in the finest of museums.
carlos finds the hesitation in your eyes and sighs. “i know.”
“what are we doing?” you groan, head falling against his shoulder. his thumb rubs at your back, comforting you coming as second nature. “i can’t just — fuck you and pretend like it never happened. i’ve been trying to get over you for a year now, and this just sets everything back.”
“did you?” he asks, unsure if he wants to know the answer. “get over me?”
“no,” you sigh, answering a little too quickly. “i don’t know if i ever will.”
carlos softens, more so if possible, hands smoothing all over you. “i love you. i always have, i always will. i’ll do whatever it takes, just — can we try again?”
you look at him, his pleading eyes and tight grip. he does love you, you’ve know that in your gut for a while now. he’d loved you so hard when you were together, with everything that he was. just because you broke up doesn’t mean that disappears.
“carlos, we want different things…” you begin into the same argument you had a year ago, and he cuts you off with another kiss.
“i don’t care. i’ll compromise, i’ll do whatever you want. we can get married tomorrow, if it’s what you want,” he professes, cupping your cheeks. you stare at him in shock, his profession of love coming crashing down.
“we’re not getting married tomorrow,” you laugh breathlessly, taking his hands in yours. “but… we can try again tomorrow, start over.”
hope fills him, a bright smile painting his face as he kisses you, again and again. maybe not tomorrow, but he knew he was going to marry you someday. sooner, rather than later.
“i love you so much, carlos.”
“i love you even more, cariño.”
367 notes · View notes
onyourhyuck · 1 year
Text
We Met In April. | Na Yuta. (M)
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↳ Prologue: “How can you be okay with all of this? Letting people hurt you everyday. ” + “If they aren’t hurting other people because of me, I’m okay with it.”
↳ The Summary: Yuta finds you crying in the boys locker rooms and finds out why.
↳ The Warnings: Mentions of severe bullying. Bruises and cuts etc. Wholesome fluffy moment. Established friends to lovers hint. Yuta is so warm hearted and kind to Reader.
↳ The Notes: Very ANGSTY. Read at own risk.
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If people asked you how are you still here after four years. You would reply with one word.
Yuta.
The sole reason why you are walking about on two legs, breathing and fully functioning college student trying to pass the exams and only worrying about exams now.
But it wasn’t always like this. So let’s rewind back to where it all started…
How you met Yuta who has changed your life from upside down ever since.
It was a very mundane day. The usual what happens in high school, the mean bullies get away with terrorising yet another helplessly weak student and the teachers simply pass it as a joke. You were one of those ‘weak’ students. But only because you got yourself into that trouble by helping out a victim and now you turned the hungry predators thirsting to get the outmost fun by beating you up. They enjoyed doing those things to you. No matter what you never gave them the satisfaction of them seeing you cry. But once they left because thankfully the bell saved you, you were on the verge of passing out from the multiple attacks. Both boys and girls partake. However today it was only one specific boy taking the pleasure of abusing you on this Monday morning.
The boy was somewhat known for having a handsome and ‘angelic’ face but you’d disagree quickly. If people were in your position as of right now laid on the dirty school floor inside the boy’s changing rooms that were locked (however one of his friends nit-pocket the key). You would say you saw the devil smiling down at you with two large horns and it’s red glowing eyes ominously glaring down at you as if he were sucking the soul out of your body. You felt heavyweight. You felt your bones go cripple. The swirling fear choking your vocal chords, squeezing it every two seconds because you were infatuated with the evil laughter shunning your down. Degrading words.
The way their fingers graze your open thighs and pinching your sweetly scented soft skin, marking it down as defeat to remind you. It’s the way the boy lifts your school skirt taking a peek. Harassing you. It wasn’t only physical assault. You could easily take an advantage of your body if he wants to and his friends…they would watch and record if anything. You were only a freshmen last year, now heading into your second year. They were third years. Seniors. Your upper class men you were vowed by the social hierarchy to obey and respect. As the elders can do whatever the fuck they wish to do.
You want to scream. You want to pull him by his hair and slam that pretty face of his into a wall. You want to make him cry and apologise to you. But deep inside you there was not enough built anger nor revenge to fully commit such things. You were always so soft spoken. Soft hearted and easily swayed by your kinder emotions that you doing revenge would make you feel guilty rather than pleased and finally getting your clarity. It wouldn’t be redemption. It would only be a social suicide for you pushing you further off the edge than you already are.
“Hey the bell rang.”
One of his mates in the back sling forward opening the door they would be guarding. As their so called friend was caressing his lips on the your neckline, tutting as his fingers let go off your school shirt. He pulls back with a smirk, that tells you ‘you’re lucky you got saved by the bell again’ —
God knows what he would’ve done with you if that bell did not ring.
“Let’s go boys.” He stands up leaving your trembling self alone. With the keys. They locked the door afterwards. Not that it bothers you, you can’t bring yourself to show your face to your other peers after whatever happens to you nearly every day.
Its the same routine. Harassment. Assault. Verbal abuse.
You wish for it to stop. But how to stop something no one wants to stop?
You have to disappear. You thought to yourself about the idea of leaving earth. The idea of just running away. Or maybe ending it all. The idea numbs your senses. You can hear voices but your mind can’t seem to process them. Your eyes can see but why can’t you stop the blurry vision and wetness rolling down your cheeks like rain? You can speak but you weren’t heard. You’re touching your knees pressing them to your chest, but why does it hurt the most when you are comforting yourself in a hug with your own arms— when no one has ever comforted you? Not a single person engulfs you in a hug.
Not a single person has ever asked you if you are okay. You are not sure that if you ever got asked you wouldn’t believe them about their sincerity level.
Shakily coughing out saliva stuffing your throat airways as more choke up sobs leave your parting lips, the room silence fills your mournfully cries from the deep depths making them echo. The changing room had a bunch of lockers that you were hidden behind. Many benches line up that you were hidden in between two. In front of you were the multiple rays of showers with curtains. They drip water drops on the floor that match in synch with your tears falling down your red cheeks. Your swollen reddish eyes were stinging with warm burning sensation as if onions were plucking in your eyeball.
It makes you conflicted though. Even though you don’t want to get hurt anymore, you realised later that the bullies haven’t been attacking other students but they stuck to bullying you only. Somehow you feel like this might be okay if it’s you. If it’s only you and no one else is getting hurt than you are okay with becoming their punching bag and their fucked up toy.
But is that really okay? Is this what you deserve?
Your breathe hitches loudly as you quickly shove your body to stay hidden once the door unlocks and swings open with the keys rattling by the fingers swinging them in circular motions would be a platinum blonde boy with long-ish bangs and hair, a very thinly shaped jawline and a perfected side profile as his lips pucker out with a humming melody. Carrying a side gym bag he thrown it on the bed that rocks the bench behind your back roughly hitting you accidentally where it hurt the most. Your bruised back. Everything was so sensitive the tiniest pain felt enhanced as if you were being burned alive on stake by the fire. With the tiny yelp and heavy groan, you found the boy staring down at you.
First he looks at you with confusion, wondering why the hell was a girl on the middle of the boys locker changing rooms. But there was another flooding thought ‘Why was there a girl with a bloody nose, bruised legs and a rough up uniform IN the boys lockers when it was locked and why the hell was she crying? ’
Your palm covers your nose once you felt the blood dribbling down on the floor. With panic entering your weak and sullen body you were quick to stand up even though it pained you to move you push and rushing past the boy.
Yuta was quick to quickly grab your wrist and look around at your appearance again. “Whoa hold up. Are you okay?”
The voice were veiled with nothing but compassion. Something you needed and now you have it you were starstruck by the words you completely forgot how to speak.
You were so broken that you began crying harder once again now that hearing those words touch your ears it begins to touch your weak and heartbroken heart. Yuta never knew he would encounter a pretty crier until he met you.
As you sobbed he felt himself pulling you closer into a warmly tight hug. Pushing your head into his chest as he caressed your rough up hair, touching you with outmost respect and gentleness…he was scared he would hurt you if he did anything harsh and quick. He was slow and steady maintaining you in his body.
“What happened here?” Yuta questions as you pull away with a sniffle. He offers you a tissue from his pocket and you took it cleaning the blood from your nose .
You bite your tongue, wondering what to reply to that. “I got locked in. That’s all. I was scared.”
Now. Yuta wasn’t one to be fooled with. He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “What’s with your uniform and your bruises then?” He points out as he took a step back opening the sports gym back. It seems like the jersey he has inside would be the football club one. You can’t help but wonder who this was? He definitely wasn’t in your grade. He must be older. You play with your thumb as you sit down. You don’t want to go and leave. You don’t think you can handle a class right now. Instead you take a seat on the bench next to the gym back and Yuta eyes you with a short smile.
“You’re going to watch me get shirtless or what?” Yuta jokingly throws as he grabs the red jersey and you look away, staring at the floor and especially at your shoes now. “You can change inside the showers.” You point out smartly.
Yuta scowls. “Now I don’t want you giving me pointers where to change when this is in matter of fact— a boys changing rooms.” He tells you and you felt yourself cough awkwardly. You heard the way he slips of the white school shirt off his body even though you couldn’t see it, you heard the way the football red jersey crinkles and perfectly fits his body. Yuta smirks watching the way your eyes avoid him and he gives you a soft whistle as he rolls the white school shirt hanging it on the cloak hanger. As well as the school trousers.
“You can look at me now.”
You turn around to look at the boy who wore the red and white jersey shirt and shorts. He took off the white school shoes and grabs out the football appropriately used shoes on his feet slowly. You felt comfortable in the silence for a while until you would be the one to break it. Somehow you felt like you could speak about anything— but that would be because you’re so deprived from communication and as well as physical touch, when he hugged you; you felt safest in his arms than anywhere else.
“You play football?” You ask out.
Yuta softly nods looking your way. “Yeah. Do you play sports?”
You shake your head chuckling slightly embarrassed. “I- I well used to play a little bit of football in elementary.”
Yuta coos aloud with impressive noises as he comes closer to you with a wide smirk. That smirk, it was so different from the boy that beat you up. He was the devil. But Yuta’s smirk was a true form of something you’d call the Divine. Such a healing smile it healed all your worrisome thoughts from before a long ago.
“You should try-out for the girls football team this year then! Maybe you’ll find yourself a hobby that won’t involve getting trapped inside the boys locker rooms.” He leans closer whispering to you. “Peeping Tom.”
Your mouth drops at the accusation. “I wasn’t peeping.”
He raised his eyebrows at you once again. “I’m joking. Hey.”
You were so baffled through the way his voice changes such tones when speaking to you when he saw the way your slight lit up face that looks happier than before dims down by the sudden accusation in which he tried to play a teasing joke with you went bad. You didn’t take the joke well and he didn’t want any bad blood with you. God it’s the farthest thing he wants done. He hates seeing how your lifeless eyes ran numb and cold. Like they were sucked dry, left to die as if they were never meant to be full of life in the first place. The way your nostrils flare up and down trying to block out your stuffy nose due to the way you cried for hours so hard without a stop.
He knew something must’ve happened in here and you weren’t telling him. It was like a gut feeling. He wants to know what. He wants to help you. He wishes to give you advice and protect you if you need it. You seem like such a gentle soul and a down to earth girl who did nothing wrong and he can bet his own life on that you are incapable of harm.
“Sorry. That was a bad joke.” He apologises quickly to you.
You look on the side slightly sullen and now again feeling down as if you were drained. Drained by everything, by speaking, by thinking, by sitting and doing absolutely nothing makes you feel so…dissociated with everything happening round you. Your mind goes back to the replaying trauma of what happened few minutes ago. Approximately forty-five minutes ago, where you were beaten down as if you were nothing but dirt. Garbage.
It sent you shivers but what sent you through the roof completely was the warmth emitting from the boy that leans down grabbing your ankle and lifting it lightly. Your face gasps in surprise as your palm reach on surprise holding down the skirt fabric. In realisation you soon notice how he was checking the bruises and the small hidden cuts. He clicks his tongue. There was so many. He saw so much. He saw so much but he heard nothing from you but silence.
“W-what are you doing?” You stammer.
“This doesn’t look like nothing. Look I don’t even know your name but if you need help tell me what happened here.” Yuta was quick to cut you off. No time for answering you if you won’t answer him truthfully. You felt yourself heat up on your cheeks. He was demanding. Looking at you as if he was warning you to finally open up and tell him what the hell went on in here.
It’s not like he can check CCTVs. There aren’t any here.
You murmur quickly. “Okay fine. Bunch of third years taught me a lesson. You happy?” You snapped at him unintentionally. But it truly felt like you were cornered to tell him your whole sappy life story.
Yuta’s eyes strike you as he pushes your foot back down, standing up tucking the hands in the front pockets inside the gym shorts.
“Third years? You mean Kang Hanuel?”
You shiver, hearing the bully by the name. Yuta didn’t need a verbal response because you avoided replying and that was loud enough answer for him. He sighs out as he sits next to you. With a gentle ooze coming out,it felt like being next to a long term friend you haven’t spoken to in a while. That is how you felt like being with Yuta even though you don’t even know his name for god sake.
“How many times has he done this to you?”
“Few times.”
“How many is few times?”
You go silent before replying again.
“It’s been five weeks. There is seven days in a week. You do the math.” You retort back calmly but it seems like Yuta was far from calm. He was in disbelief at your nonchalant behaviour now. You seem to avoid showing emotion or care of your OWN well-being. It pissed him off seeing you treat yourself like this, and he barely knows you. He scowls.
“And you let them get away with this? Seriously?”
“Teachers won’t do anything… I tried. I don’t want my mother to worry and stress because of this. And…” You sigh out. “And even if i get the police involved Hanuel will bail out. He’s loaded with money.”
“That’s excuses.” He spat. He grabs your hands suddenly standing up as he pulls you with him to the door. You snatch your hand back with widen eyes. “You’re coming with me to report this. You don’t know how far he will go next.”
Biting on your bottom lip you look down.
“How can you be okay with all of this? Letting people hurt you everyday. ” Yuta trails softly as he saw the way you were unable to contain your words at once. As you flinch the further he came closer standing in front of you with barely a gap between you.
You want to tell him that you love other people more than you’ll ever love yourself. But you can’t bring yourself to. “If they aren’t hurting other people because of me, I’m okay with it.” You respond.
Yuta softly nods understanding your reasoning and thought process but it was unhealthy. He holds your hands with his as he whispers to you. “The other footballers are going to arrive soon but, What’s your name?”
“Y/n. It’s y/n.” You reply back.
“I’m Yuta. From now on if they ever hurt you I will protect you. I’m your new friend Y/n.”
The day you met him you knew from the moment your eyes laid on Yuta, He was going to be your savio it. The knight in shining armour and your will to survive and carry on living. Seriously who would’ve known? An international Japanese student studying football in Korea… becoming friends with you, a girl bullied and crying. Comforting you. He shown and gave nothing but love and even if you didn’t give anything back and he received none recognition— he was happy with just seeing you smile and make friends.
Now it’s been four years forward and you’re having lunch with Yuta. You both gotten sport scholarships and both managed to enter the same college. Now you’re on the same football program and training teams and you can see each other with same schedules. You would be having lunch outside in the open green field and park, out in a sunny day. Yuta hums nomming on the sushi as he lifts the chopsticks giving you one sushi on your plastic plate.
“Eat up Y/n. Gotta build that muscle.” He slaps his arms flexing the muscular arms at you. You snort in response and stay still admiring the way his healing smile and happy expressions never changed.
He’s still the same. Looks the same as the boy in high school you met in the changing rooms. You’re becoming too reminiscent of the past that you blurt out suddenly to Yuta.
With a loving gaze full of appreciation for the boy. All he’s done with you. You finally thank him for everything he has been through with you.
“I’m glad We Met In April, Yuta.”
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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! REBLOG THIS FIC AND FOLLOW ME FOR MORE UPDATES!
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colesluvr · 11 months
Text
REQ: Heyy :]I don't know if you still accept requests, but maybe could you write a GN!reader × Lloyd? Like Lloyd had been busy lately and it's the readers birthday but he forgets? I leave your imagination the rest of it, but please let it end in Fluff cause one more Lloyd angst oneshot from ANYTHING and i will break LMAOOO
Birthday Surpise: Lloyd Garmadon x GN Reader
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HII TYSM FOR THIS REQUEST, THIS WAS ACTUALLY RLY FUN TO WRITE! I HOPE YALL ENJOY <3
TO ALL MY OTHER ANONS WHO REQ'D: i have not forgotten about the rest of you, yall are coming up next 🫶
keys:
B/D : birthday day (monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, friday, saturday, sunday)
"Lloyd?" You called out to yourboyfriend who was training out by the courtyard. He seemed foucsed because he never noticed your presence. He aims the tip of his sword to the neck of the dummy he was currently training with. 
You stood on the side of the courtyard, slowly moving around to face Lloyd from a distance. 
"Lloyd?" You once again called, and this time your eyes caught a glimpse of a energy blast zoom it's way toward you. You reflexed fast and dodged it, the blast hitting the wall leaving a burnt mark. 
"Y/N?"
Lloyd called out, running up to you as you stood up, rubbing your arm. "Are you crazy?" 
"Sorry," Lloyd awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, "I-I didn't think anyone would be up this hour." He was right. The time was 7am. Everyone else is probably still asleep, or awake up in their rooms doing whatever. 
"Sure, but you could've done much worse then make a burnt mark on the wall." 
Lloyd aplogized once again, checked for wounds, and went back to the middle of the courtyard to countine training.
"Lloyd?"
"Hm?" He replied, landing a hit on the dummy.
"Well," You began, "I was thinking about something."
He nod, telling you keep talking. You stepped down on the rocky path and made your way toward him as you spoke, "I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me today! Y'know, because it's nice and early and your already awake?" 
Lloyd paused to look at you, "I'm sure, but not for long. I've been sloopy durning training sessions with the others. Trying to get better, but I'm sure we can get an hour in together. 
"Just one hour?"
Will that be enough time? 
"I mean, yeah, why not. I'm sorry babe,but I really gotta focus today." 
You took a miunte to think, "Lloyd, do you know what today is?" 
Lloyd slammed the dummy to the floor, it bouncing back up in less then 2 seconds and paused to think, "Uhm. B/D?" 
You waited to see if he'll continue, but he didn't.
"Yes, but what's special about this day?"
"Y/N, what are you talking about? It's a normal B/D. Look, I'm pretty busy right now, how about we plan tomorrow? I'll take you to your favorite-"
"Forget it." You waved off the ninja, making you way back inside in the Monestary. Lloyd raised an eyebrow, but shugged off your sudden outburts.
_
Inside the Monestary, you felt tears begin to build up in your eyes. How could he forget your birthday? Is is Ninja business more importabnt then you?  You walked down the hall, trying to cover our mouth to prevent you from sobbing out loud. 
Why are you even crying? Its not our fault he forgot, he should be the one feeling your pain. 
Sudden;y, you bumped into a figue the walked out of a room. In a panic you wiped your eyes as you made eye contact with the person.
"Zane." You chuckled, "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." 
"It's quite alright, Y/N. What are you doing up so early?" Zane asked, looking at you. He noticed your eyelids were red but didn't say anything about it until you replied to his question. 
"Oh, I-I just said hi to Lloyd, I-I'm heading back to my room."
Before he could say anythin you push by him but pause, "Zane, do you know what today is?" 
"Well, of course I do. Happy birthday, Y/N."
You smiled softly, thanking him and returning to your room. He watched as you entered your rooom beside Nya's and Kai's. 
_
It was now later in the morning, around 9AM. Lloyd came back from outside and he was done training for a couple of hours. At least 1 or 2 he told himself.
As he entered the kitchen, he ran into Zane who was finishing up breakfast. "Good morning, Lloyd. Have you finished training?" 
Lloyd smieles as he sits at the table, "Yeah. I am." Lloyd soon looked around the room. With the corner of his eye he spots ballons and banners in a supply closet. He tilted his head to the side, "We still have these? I thought we put them away after Nya's birthday last month?" He said as he took a sip of water that Zane placed down for him. 
"Well, we did put them away, but I took them back out for Y/N's birthday today-" 
The sound of Lloyd spitting water out of his mouth caused Zane to jump slighty, obviously not expecting it. "WHAT?" He basically shouted, wiping his chin. "It's for Y/N's birthday today, I asked Cole to assit me in putting up the banners and Nya and Jay offered to get them presents from all of us. Kai will be in charge blowing up balloons."
Zane spoke, looking over to Lloyd to see panic all over his face. "Lloyd," he started slowly, placing down his cloth and cup he was drying, "You do remember it's Y/N's birthday? Correct?" 
Lloyd stared at the table in thought. What the fuck? he asked himseld over and over, How the hell could I forget my own partners birthday?!
"I mean- I-I was distracted by all my ninja training, I-I didn't think-"
Zane gave a sworrowful look as he shook his head. Lloyd grumbled as he slammed his head to the table. 
_
"Oh. Sorry Y/N, I didn;t know you were-" Cole had accdeintly walked in on you in the bathroom, and as he was aplogizing you were quick to move from the mirror nad wipe your eyes. You and him made eye contact and as you prayed he's close the door, he instead opened it slowly, noticing your puffy eyes.
"Y/N? Are you okay? Are you crying? 
You shook your head fast, too fast, causing your head to hurt and tears to spill more. "N-No." Your voice cracked as you wiped the tears from your eyes.
Cole didn't know what to do, not until you choked out his name and the tears were more visiable. "Cole..." He immediatly wrapped his arms around you as you cried into his shoulder. 
"Oh god, ssh. ssh. It's alright, hey, hey, hey!" He smiles as he sups your ace togethet to get a better look at your face. Your tear stained face caused a frown to form on his face, "Awh, Y/N." He hugged you once and rubbed your back in comfort.
"How-How could he forget?" You spoke. 
You and Cole have moved into the hall and back into your room. He got you issues, your stuffed animal, your blanket, anything to make you feel more safe and happy. He rubbed your shoulder as he sat beside you, 
"Who forgot?"
"Lloyd!" Your voice squeaked as you coughed out a cry. "How-How could he forget my birthd-day?" You squezzed your stuffed animal as Cole paused to think.
Suddenly, he started to chuckle and you snapped your head at him, More tears started to form, and Cole quickly noticed. "Omg, Y/N." Cole handed you a tissue, but still wiped your tears for you. "I thought you meant he forgot something like an aniverrsity, or a graduation."
You cocked your eyebrow at Cole, "Y/N. A lot of people forget birthdays! I do sometimes. Lemme'tell you, when I forgot Jay's birthday he was crying his eyes out. I felt bad, but he didn't take any offence of it."
"But- BUT YOU AND JAY WEREN'T DATING!"
"True, but he forgave me because it was only a one time thing. Tell me, when was the last time Lloyd ever  forgot your birthday. Or Kai's birthday? Or even Darreths?!" You looked at him as you were deep in thought.
He was right. 
Lloyd never forgot your birthday and even if he would, he would ask someone, no? 
You shrugged your shoulders, rubbing the arm of your stuffed toy. Cole smiled, "See. Now, don't let one person who forgot your birthday ruin your entire day. Hae fun, you only turn (A/N) once!" He joked, shaking your arm to egt you to laugh, which much to your liking, did.
"You only turn any age once, dummy." 
You and Cole laugh, not hearing the sudden door knock until the door creaked open. You both snap your heads to find Lloyd peeking his head in. Your stomach dropped for a minute, but you remained calm. 
"Uh, Y/N. Could I talk to you?"
Cole looked back at you and smiled, you look back at him and slowly smiled back as he stood up after rubbing the top of your hair. He walked by Lloyd anc gave him a pat on the shoulder and a smile. 
You placed your legs on your bed to sit criss cross on the mattress. As you didn, Lloyd entered with his hands behind his back.  He sat where Cole was perviously before he left. 
"Y/N. I-I just wanted to say, I'm sorry. I forgot your birthday and that was a dumb move of me. I'm your boyfriend, and I've already forgotten your birthday, I felt so bad when I remembered. This morning, when you asked me if we wanted to hang out, I was a jerk and set you off for tomorrow. So-So I want to make it up to you, if you'd let me." 
You saw him reach into a bag he placed on the bed as he sat down, he took out a small box and handed it to you. You look at him, you could tell he was on edge. So you took the box, taking a moment to open it and when it did you were met with pieces of papers. You took one out and read it."
"Coupon #7 : Movie Night." 
You look up at him confused, "I-I don't have any money on me, so I decided t go old-school and make you something, Basically, I made you (A/N) coupons, cause that's how old you are now, and which ever one you pick every hour we will do." 
He took the paper from you, "Example, You got Coupon #7" Movie Night. Meaning tonight we'll watch a moive, you're pick but I do have those rented movies we got at Doomsday."
You paused, "I know. I know, It's not the best present, but I felt really bad that I forgot your birthday and I wish you could for-" Before you could let Lloyd finish, you jumped into his arms, tossing him backwards on the bed.
His back hits your blanket and you laid on top of him. 
You laughed into his shoulder before showing him your smile with small tears in your eyes. "Thank you." You squeaked, hugging him again, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. Your the best, I love you so much, Thank you, this was such a cute idea!" 
Lloyd.EXE has stopped working. 
"You're-you're not mad, or-or upset."
"Of course I was, but I realized it's you." You kissed his cheek, "I know you wouldn't forget my birthday because I know you'll remember sooner or later." 
Lloyd's lips formed into a smile as you kissed his lips and pulled away. You took the box and closed it, shaking it. 
"Now, what will the amazing Lloyd Garmadon do with the awesome Y/N L/N today!" 
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lanitalay · 6 months
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Before I Say Goodnight
Chapter 10
a/n: Happy Monday!!!!! Word count: 4k
Warnings: none, crying as per usual
Other chapters
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The last few days have been a blur. When you arrived at the Manor, your stomach was a bottomless pit. The possibility of returning home evaporated in a single second. The fight with Azriel is weighing heavy on your heart. That first night was spent looking at the sizzling hearth until the flames went out, the embers went cold and the sun came out. The second day was spent in bed, drifting between dreams of a life a world away and dreams of Azriel’s face as he watched you walk away. A box of your clothes was delivered by Cassian, you didn’t get out of bed to see him. The second night you managed about one hour of rest in between the fits of crying. You weren’t entirely sure why you were crying. It could have been because of the life that was taken from you, the enormous uncertainty that was your future or the fight with your closest friend here. The third day Jurian made you go with him to the nearby village to buy food for the house and do a check up on the recovery from the war with Hybern. He said you needed to get out of the house and that you looked and smelled like hell. That day you met Muriel, the local apothecary. Jurian brought you to her shop to find some herbs or a tonic or a salve or anything to get you to sleep. When Muriel saw the dark circles under your eyes, the greasiness of your hair and the bitten nails she quickly offered you tea. It was peppermint. It made you feel a little more alive, the liquid warming your cold hands and soothing your tattered heart. You breathed deep, savoring the fleeting moments of peace. “What’s wrong, darlin’?” She asked with a comforting twang that almost brought you to tears. Jurian put a hand on your back and said “she’s going through a difficult time and hasn’t slept in days. Do you have something that would help?” She nods “of course, I don’t have much in stock right now but I’ll give you enough for two nights, by then a new shipment would have arrived and I can dispatch more if you need” she searches for powders and dried leaves on her too full shelves and empties the containers into a small jar “dilute half of this mixture in warm water or milk thirty minutes before you want to fall asleep”. She hands you the jar “thank you” you say but it barely comes out as a whisper. “I can get something for your nails as well, help them get nice and healthy” you look at your hands, the nasty habit from childhood made a reappearance these past days. “I guess that could help” she quickly goes to another shelf and pulls out a tiny bottle “put this oil on all of your nails daily”. She tells Jurian to total and he gives her a few coins “I hope you feel better soon”.
That night you slept soundly. The following morning you got out of bed without having to be dragged out by one of the boys. You felt refreshed. The pit in your stomach still present but less daunting after a full night of sleep. When you walked into the kitchen Lucien’s eyes went wide “glad to see you up and cognizant” you rolled your eyes. “I slept well last night and actually feel like a person this morning” Jurian cuts Lucien off before he makes another remark “the tonic worked?” You nodded “like a charm”. 
After breakfast you had the house to yourself. Lucien was never really home during the day and Jurian had a meeting of sorts with one of the villages’ top blacksmiths. He had mentioned something about getting a decent blade. And Vassa was in her bird form. So you lingered in the kitchen, cleaned the mess from breakfast and had another cup of tea. This morning you missed coffee an extra bit. You were thinking of how there must be coffee plants somewhere in this world but they just haven’t been harvested properly or have not arrived to Prythian when someone knocked on the front door. Startled, you place a hand on your now hammering heart and think of what to do. No one should be home so you could just ignore it and hope they go away. But maybe it was Azriel or Cassian or even Mor. You calmed your breathing a bit and walk from the kitchen to the door. “You’re back” his voice was warm and familiar, almost jovial, but not quite. “Hello Eris, Lucien isn’t home” he didn’t look taken aback by your dry tone. Azriel’s dislike for the male rubbed off on you. “That’s a shame, I’ll just have to wait” he steps into the house before you can protest. “Was he expecting you?” He sits down on one of the sofas “can’t I visit my baby brother without an interrogation?” You huff and cross your arms. “How’s your foot?” Your eyes widen a bit at the memory, surprised he remembered. You look down and flex your toes within your boot and reply “it’s fine now”. “Are you always this enchanting to be around?” He sounds annoyed, you roll your eyes “you are free to leave and return when Lucien is actually here” and walk towards the library. You hear footsteps and are relieved for half a second until you realize he’s following you. “You know how to read?” How am I even supposed to answer that? “I do,” he hums, “impressive for a human”. You look through the shelves, hoping to find something entertaining. “This is a good one” does he ever shut up? He holds up a thin book “it’s an adventure novel, the protagonist flies across the world on a dragon”. You grab it from him and scan the pages. Eyes narrow at him, annoyed that he was kind of helpful “I didn’t know heirs have enough free time to read fiction”. He answers matter of fact “in the centuries I’ve been alive I’ve managed to carve out time to read”. You forget that. These beings are so much older than you’ll ever be. “I guess” you reluctantly concede. 
The rest of the day was spent reading the novel and ignoring Eris. He left shortly after Lucien arrived, their private conversation was brief and, by the looks of it, unremarkable . You wondered why he waited for hours just for that. In a way, it was good Eris had shown up. You never had any time to go into a spiral because by the time he left everybody was home again. “How was your day?” Vassa asked you sweetly. “It was alright, better than the last few” she grinned at that. 
You  used the last of the tonic and slept until the clattering of pots and pans woke you.
“I need to return to the village today” Jurian raises an eyebrow at you. “For the tonic” his features relax, remembering “that’s right, think you can go by yourself? I have to go to the ports today” you think for a moment “I guess, can I take one of the horses?” He nods “take Lucien’s”.
You take a deep breath. The only times you’d been by yourself in this world had never ended well. Just follow the path and you’ll be fine. You repeat the affirmation to yourself all the way to the village. 
The apothecary shop was empty, as it had been the last time you’d been here. But Muriel was there and she smiled when you stepped in. “Hello” you greet “You’re lookin’ so much better darlin’” she was excited. You nod and offer her the best smile you can muster “the tonic worked wonders, do you have any more?” She put her hands at her hips and nods “I sure do, but it’ll take me a while to get everythin’ ready” she walks to the restocked shelves “the girl that usually helps me got married last week and I have about twenty orders I’m behind on”. Her nimble hands pick small leaves of oregano off the stem and drop them into a mortar and pestle. She grinds the leaves with a memorized rhythm, you stare and get lost in the perfectly rehearsed movements. You speak before you really think about what you’re about to say “I can help, if you’d like. I could use something to do during the day” and a marketable skill if you are to stay in this world. Muriel takes you in, and maybe it’s because of pity or necessity but she says “alright, you can make your own sleep powder, grab another mortar and pestle and grind a handful of these flowers” she points at the equipment and the ingredients simultaneously and you immediately get to work. 
It’s almost dark when Muriel finally announces that it’s time to close the shop for the day. Your hands were sore from grinding flowers and herbs and salts. You smelled of the incense she kept burning. Your eyes felt heavy, it had been a very long day. But you felt lighter than you had in a month, maybe in a year. The scents of the shop were warm and soothing. Muriel reminded you of your grandmother, she had crinkles around her eyes and gray hairs sprinkled through her long brown curls. “Can I come back tomorrow?” You asked, hoping she’d say yes “well, of course. You were very helpful today” you stop yourself before you crush her in a hug, her kindness bringing back to life a part of yourself that had long been dormant and say “see you then”. 
“Where have you been all day?” You smile at Lucien “I got a job, I’ll need your horse to get into town everyday” he looks even more confused now. “What are you talking about?” You hop off the saddle and skip towards him “I’m helping Muriel at the apothecary shop, look” and you pull out a jar with the sleep powder “I made this myself, she says I’m a natural”. Lucien can’t deny that it brings him joy seeing you excited about something. “I’ll need my horse some days, but I’m happy for you” he says and pats you on the shoulder. 
“I can’t afford to pay you much more than a few coppers a week” Muriel says the next morning “it’s ok, I really just want to learn”. She nods and the day progresses like the last. Grinding, mixing, packaging and handing out orders. In the flow of routine and monotony you got lost. There, your sole focus was the tasks at hand and gleaning any information you could from Muriel. You didn’t think about your world, your family, your friends, Azriel… nothing that wasn’t in the shop mattered and you were glad. 
A week. 
Two weeks.
Three weeks passed in the same routine. It was peaceful. Breakfast with the boys, then you’d ride into town and work with Muriel until sunset, by the time you reached the Manor it was dinner time and you’d stuff your face and pass out until the next day. Then you’d do it over again. “Tomorrow the shop won't be opening, I’m visiting my sister” Muriel told you as you were cleaning the tools you’d used during the day “so take a break and rest, we’ll be back the day after”. You deflated a bit, the distraction of the routine was your lifeline to sanity “oh, alright, have a nice visit with your sister” she smiled “I will, I haven’t seen her in months. Her daughter had a baby and she’s been fussin’ over them so much I haven’t seen her since” she chuckles. Your chest tightens a bit, a reminder of what you didn’t have anymore. 
The next morning was the same up until everyone left. The empty house felt extra big. You were washing clothes when you heard a knock. Sighing, you get up and open the door. “You should know by now that Lucien isn’t here during the day” you say as Eris stands in front of you. “Maybe I’m not here for Lucien” you step away to let him inside “then why are you here?” Eris walks in but remains standing “I come here when I need a break from my father” he inspects the sitting room “are you the servant?” You suppose no one has ever told him who you really are “I’m … Jurian’s friend” he puts his hands in his pockets “I see” you jump when another knock rattles the door “expecting company?” Eris asks “no” , you respond and open the door for the second time today. Your breath catches in your throat as you see a dark looming figure on the steps. 
“Az?” He’s standing with his hands behind his back but his shadows engulf you as if saying hi to an old friend. You giggle a bit as they gently caress your face. “Y/n” he breathes, like he’s surprised to see you “you look,” he scans you “you look good” you nod “I feel good”. He sags a bit, you’re not sure why, but continues “I’m glad” you shift on your feet “want to come inside?” He shakes his head “I’m actually on my way to an assignment but I wanted to make sure you were fine, Lucien said you were. I just had to see for myself” you nod “I’m better” a pause. A breath “Az I’m sorry for calling you an ass” he smiles at that “I’m sorry for saying all that I said, it was your decision and I was overstepping” another pause “I want you to come to the Night Court for Solstice” he blurts. Your brows raise “oh, I’d love to. When is it?” His cheeks are a little pink, you suppose it’s from the cold “in a few weeks, Lucien is also going. You can winnow with him or I can fly you but I think winnowing is more comfortable in the dead of winter”. You smile lightly, “alright Az, I’ll see you then”. He returns the smile and steps away and lunges to the air. 
“How do you know the Shadowsinger that intimately?” You press your back to the door, heart beating wildly and you’re sure your face is beet red. “You’re not the only one that comes to visit, Eris” he clutches his chest “and I thought what we had was special” and pouts. “It’s like you have a sixth sense for when I’m home alone. Got a little crush?” He scoffs, and you swear you can see his lips straining to lift. “It’s ok if you do, I’m incredibly charming. Not to mention beautiful”. “Humans are not my type” you shrug and wink at him before returning to your room and your chores. 
Washing your skirts, shirts, sweaters and leggings was therapeutic in its own way. The rhythmic scrubbing against the board, the sound of water splashing and sloshing, the suds tickling your forearms and the floral scent of the detergent was enough to ease your mind and keep the ever present panic at bay. When you were done, you returned down stairs and hung the clothes outside. Winter was closer now, but you were hopeful that the first frost of the season would wait until after your clothes were dry. “Are you going to eat?” You jump and clutch at your chest, having forgotten that Eris was here. At his question your stomach grumbles. It must be past midday then. “I could eat”. 
You split a loaf of bread and some soft cheese with Eris. He was not pleased by the rudimentary meal but ate, nonetheless. “Where are you from?” You choke a bit. Not knowing how to answer. “Uhm, I’m from the Southern Continent”. In the first books Jurian showed you there were maps of the world, and a southern continent twice as far as the Continent to the east seemed like a good place to lie about. From what you gathered, Prythian and the other lands North of it had very little knowledge of it, only some stories from explorers or merchants brave enough to face the tempestuous ocean that separated it. He looks surprised “and how did you end up here?” You want to groan, but instead say “oh you know… this and that. There was a boat and a storm and now I’m here” you look at the bread and cheese, making a little sandwich while Eris stares at you. You’re certain he doesn’t believe a word. But you don’t trust him enough to tell the truth, given your involvement with the Night Court and their tumultuous relations with Autumn. “Very convincing story, y/n” you still don’t look at him and are saved from further questioning when Lucien walks through the door.  
The next few weeks fly by. The shop is organized and running smoothly now that you and Muriel have settled on an effective routine. Life with the exiles was as calm as it could be. The occasional discussion between Jurian and Vassa kept things interesting and on some nights you’d sit by the hearth and share stories of your very different lives.
The day before Solstice Lucien winnowed the two of you to Velaris. You had been nervous to see the Inner Circle, namely Rhysand, but not enough to stay away. You had never talked to Lucien about Elain, but you guess that part of the reason why he makes the trip back for the holiday is to see her. And also why both of you are tight lipped and visibly uncomfortable when Feyre opens the door to the River House. 
“Lucien, y/n! I’m so happy you made it!” she exclaims while stepping aside to let you in. You were shaking now, the light coat that kept you more than warm in the Human Lands not nearly thick enough for the Night Court winter. Inside the house is toasty warm though and the smell of something sweet permeates the air. Feyre hugs Lucien and then he leaves, you assume that he’s going to look for Elain. “Thanks for having me,” you tell her, “of course, it has been too long since we’ve seen you” at that her eyes soften, remembering why you haven’t been around. “I’m sorry the portal didn’t work, I believe Gwyn is still working on figuring out what happened”. You shrug “it was difficult to accept at first but now I’m doing better” she brightens “Lucien said you had been working at the apothecary?” You smile and nod “yes, I’ve been learning a lot and getting my hands dirty. I could see myself staying there for a while” she wraps her arm around your shoulders and leads to the main sitting room “I’m glad, y/n. But remember you are always welcome here, Velaris needs apothecaries as well” and nudges you playfully. You laugh. 
Everyone is here: Nesta, Cassian, Rhysand, Elain, Mor, Amren, Gwyn, Nyx and Azriel. Your heart stops when you see him. You say hello to everyone and make a mental note to thank Cassian and Nesta for the box of clothes before you leave again. He stands pin straight as he watches you approach. “Hi” you say, the corners or your mouth perking up as you finish the word. He smiles too “I’m happy you’re here”. You’re about to say something when Mor shouts “everybody better have wine!” After that the night is a blur. 
The pounding in your head reminds you why you haven’t had wine since girls night. A cacophony of groans engulfs the room as banging noises come from the kitchen. You go to place your hands over your ears but something warm and heavy is draped across your middle. You turn your head and see that Lucien is spooning you. Oh god. You turn to look at the other sofa and see Nesta and Gwyn in the same cuddle. Mor is in a fetal position on the floor. What the hell happened.  More banging echoes and you throw Lucien’s arm off you and cover your ears. He wakes up when his hand slaps his face and curses. You push yourself off the sofa and go into the kitchen. Nyx has made an instrument out of a pot and a metal spoon. He laughs when he sees you walk in. I must look like a goblin. “Look Nyxie, one of the sleepy heads is awake” you rub your eyes “his little concert is difficult to sleep through” Feyre picks him up and gives you an apologetic look. “Looks like you all kept the party going after we went to bed” you sit at the kitchen table and rest your head on your hands “I guess we did, but I don’t remember a thing”.  One by one the others join you in your misery at the table. “Where are Azriel, Cassiand and Rhysand?” you ask as breakfast appears. Mor replies “annual snowball fight” like it’s common knowledge, but you are not that curious ask for clarification so you have breakfast and hope you don’t throw up. 
You spend the next few hours sleeping and then getting ready for the actual Solstice celebrations. You had brought your purple long sleeved dress for the occasion, your nicest dress by far. By nightfall everyone was all together again and dressed to the nines. You couldn’t help but notice how good Azriel looked. His hair had grown in the weeks you hadn’t been here. His curls frame his face and give him a boyish look. He wore an all black outfit, the only color from his siphons. He looked at ease, his usual stiffness gone in the comfort of his family. You notice you are staring and look away. “He’s been looking at you all night too” Lucien whispers in your ear. You blush and pick at invisible lint on your dress “shut up”. The group starts exchanging gifts and you watch with amusement as everyone opens Mor’s presents gingerly. You had been warned about her handicap when it came to gift giving. Then the wine starts flowing again. You opt out tonight, wanting to avoid a major hangover, possibly death.
It’s a few hours after midnight when everyone has either gone to bed or passed out. You place blankets over the few that remained on the sofas and floor. Then move to the kitchen and look for cookies. “Smart of you to sit this one out” you jump a little when you hear Azriel’s voice. “I thought you’d be out until morning” he shrugged “I just needed a power nap, I’m as good as new”. You hummed, finding the cookie jar. “Here” you hand Azriel a cookie. You sit in silence for a bit until he says “I got you a present” and he takes a small box out of his jacket pocket. “Oh Az, you didn’t have to do that. I didn’t get anything for you” he shakes his head and pushes the box in front of you “open it”. You wipe your hands on a napkin and begin unwrapping it carefully. You frown, inside the box is your phone. You look at him quizzically, he smiles “turn it on”. You gasp when you press the button and the screen comes to life, a picture of your dog staring back at you. Your eyes well up. “How is this even possible?” He smiles “I don’t know exactly, I took it to the same tinkerer that made Lucien's mechanical eye and they took care of it”. You look from the screen towards him. Tears falling freely now. You set it down on the counter and walk over to him, wrapping  your arms around him in the strongest hug you could muster. “Thank you so much, Az” his arms come to your waist and he hugs you back. You know he can feel your heart beating wildly in that moment, because you can feel his.
taglist: @luvmoo
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inkheartedwanderer · 2 years
Text
what friends are for || the breakfast club
tbc x reader // mostly allison and brian bc losers unite (platonic!)
content: a small snippet of monday morning after detention. 
word count: 2.3k
“I don’t have any friends…”
“Well, if you did?”
“No… I don’t think the kind of friends I’d have would mind...”
Allison’s words resonate in your brain as you walk up the stairs and into the busy entrance of Shermer High School on Monday, March 26th, 1984. Waves of people swarm around you, as you make your way towards your locker, down the hall and to the right; the buzz of the early morning ringing in your ears like the static from the broken radio of your car. It’s a stark contrast to the emptiness these same corridors held just two days ago, and it almost feels like Saturday was a fever dream, hazy and overwhelming.
But everything that went down on Saturday was real -the screaming and the crying, the accusations and the confessions. The bonding. The fleeting illusion of a budding friendship with five other kids, all of you so different from one another, but so similar in one too many ways, all of you broken and lost. A part of you wants things to go back to normal, ignore the people that now know too much about you, more than anyone else ever has. Another part of you, a corner of your heart, small but pulsating like an open wound, wants to prove Claire wrong, prove her that the perfectly constructed social hierarchy of Shermer High means nothing if you just try. 
You don’t have as much to lose as Andy or Claire herself, but you don’t have as much to gain as Brian, Allison, or even Bender, either. People know you. People like you. You’re nice. Or you were, before you punched your best… ex-best friend right in the eye (and right in front of a teacher). But she had it coming, after her continuous not-so-subtle snide remarks about your problems at home that morning, the reason why you try so hard to be a good student, a good person, even if you slip from time to time. 
Your white sneakers squeak against the linoleum floor when you turn around the corner and the first thing you see is her in front of her open locker, applying concealer above her cheekbone with gentle pats of her middle finger; she’s surrounded by the other girls in your group, who are loudly asking her about the bruise that adorns her pale face. She won’t tell anyone it was you and you know it, but you’re unsure she’ll let you come near her and your friends anymore. Her eyes meet yours and her face hardens in a second. It’s obvious you’re not welcome. You would care, but it’s not her you are actually looking for.
A voice, gentle but firm calls you from behind. You look over your shoulder. Soft, meek Brian is gingerly making his way towards you, poorly hiding his nervousness as he approaches. You offer him a smile and turn completely, waving as he stops in front of you. “Hey, Brian.” He visibly relaxes at your tone, his lips turning upwards, braces on display. “What’s up? Did you have a nice Sunday?”
He nods vigorously, happy that you haven’t ignored him. Not that you would’ve before, but he doesn’t know that. “I studied for the Math exam we have on Friday, then started reading a new comic book. I’m almost done with it.”
“Cool.”
A few seconds pass and Brian shifts his weight from foot to foot. He looks at his shoes, then steals a glance your way. “That’s a nice sweater,” he points at your light purple knit jumper “it looks good on you. The yellow one from Saturday was pretty, too.” You nod and look at him expectantly, in teasing silence, biting the inside of your cheek trying to hide a smile. There’s a faint pink tint dusting his cheeks. You’re pretty sure he has a small crush on you, and he’s so obvious and awkward about it that it’s endearing. 
Brian clears his throat and turns to his left, pointing to a group of boys huddling together around a locker a few feet away. “Those are my friends.” He says, matter-of-factly. They are staring at you like you’ve got two heads, somewhere between fascinated and terrified. You share a few classes with one of them, a tall and lanky guy with thick-rimmed glasses who talks very fast.
“Right,” You wave at them, “I know Freddie.” The boys wave back with hesitancy, studying Brian and you with cautious eyes. 
“That’s awesome, then.” Brian claps his hands together, leaning in confidentially. “They say it’s cool if you want to join us for lunch. You’re welcome at our table. Today or whenever” He smiles, pleased with himself, proud that he didn’t stutter while talking to you.
It isn’t hard to agree, considering you are now virtually friendless. “Sure, why not?” You say, sounding more nonchalant than you feel. And Brian’s face lits up, eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights. You know what he’s thinking. Suck on that, Claire. Screw cliques. “Listen, have you-” The bell rings loudly, its grating sound piercing across the hall and signaling the beginning of the classes. You tsk and hold the boy’s arm before can walk away. “Have you seen Allison?”
Brian, who is trying to go back to his friends before they leave without him, stops in his tracks and looks at the ceiling, retracing his steps since he arrived at school earlier this morning. “No, I don’t think I have.” You drop your hand, let it fall against your jean-clad thigh in defeat. The crowd is dispersing and she’s nowhere to be seen, not in this hallway, at least. When you sigh, Brian speaks again. “She won’t be hard to find, though. If you do, tell her to come, too. For lunch.” And after giving you a thumbs up, he turns around and leaves.
                                                         -
It’s during the long break between the third and fourth periods that you manage to find Allison. She’s alone, pressing against a locker in the far corner of the arts hall near the library, clutching the strap of her grey bag with a death grip and looking intently at everyone passing her by.
Although she’s wearing all black again, an ink stain in an ocean of bright red lockers and yellow walls, and dark liner around her eyes, you notice as you get closer to her that she’s pinned her bangs back with two small hairpins.
She gasps when she spots you, a deep inspiration that shakes her whole body, and her smile is timid when you reach her side. Yours, however, is wide and sunny, and her face brights up like a child’s, a silent hello falling from her lips.
Two days earlier, when Allison stated softly I don’t have any friends, you swore your heart broke a little. Sure, she was a bit weird and showed questionable eating habits, but by the time you all sat at the back of the library to talk, you had grown fond of the girl; and it made you indescribably sad to see the deep loneliness in her eyes. You’ve come to school this morning determined to change that. You’re still not sure how you feel about her knack for lying, though.
“Hi,” You chirp, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“You have?” Her tone is awestruck, like she can’t believe anyone would look for her, and she’s breathing very hard.
You laugh. “Yeah, I tried to catch you this morning, but the bell rang before I could.”
The girl nods very slowly, taking in your words. Her smile grows bigger, more genuine and less tentative. “I was late today.” She touches her hair inadvertently, patting her short locks where they are pinned back.
“I’m digging the new look.”
Allison looks like she’s on the verge of tears (happy, you hope) when she thanks you with a choked voice.
You’re about to speak when a loud voice makes you jump.
“Well, if this isn’t the slugger and the freak.” 
Rolling your eyes at the nickname, you look over Allison’s shoulder. John Bender is sauntering towards you with a smug smile and his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket. He’s put a cigarette behind his ear, which is adorned with a shiny diamond earring. He’s got a slightly chaotic energy about him that used to make you nervous before you got to officially meet him, but now it’s easier for you to spot the mischievous -if not playful- gleam in his eyes when he’s trying to be amicable. 
“That’s rich coming from you.” You still haven’t mastered the art of deadpanning, but you try. “Broken any laws lately?”
Allison snickers beside you, face towards the floor but eyes bouncing from him to you. 
Bender squints, then makes a noise, a mix between a snort and a cackle. “Not yet,” he mimics your mock shock expression, “but t’s still early, sweets, don’t worry.” With a two finger salute, he begins to walk backwards, away from you. “Don’t punch anyone today.”
He makes a scene, demanding attention, tall and boisterous as he jumps and hits a banner that’s hanging from the ceiling. It wrinkles with a loud crack and comes off on one side. John lands too close to a group of girls, getting a fuss from them. 
“Look!” Allison nudges you and directs your attention towards one of the girls. Leaning on one shoulder against a locker, with her fiery red hair shining like silk and her pink lips pursed, Claire is staring at Bender with such intensity you’re afraid she might burn a hole in his jacket. Whether that’s good or bad, you’re not sure; but the smug smirk that spreads across his face when he makes eye contact with her tells you that’s exactly the reaction he was expecting.
You turn your attention back to the girl beside you, her brown eyes trained on you, blinking slowly. A bit weird, but who cares, you think. “So,” you begin, placing your hand on her elbow, gently, “Brian and his friends say we’re welcome to sit with them today, in the cafeteria.” Her eyes go wide and she makes a noise at the back of her throat. Feeling encouraged, you link your arm through hers and begin walking slowly down the corridor. “I think it’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, I think so.” She seems somewhat nervous, but lets you lead the way without resisting. “Did he really say I can go too?” 
“Of couse! He explicitly told me to tell you.”
Allison beams, squeezing your arm with cold fingers. 
Some people give you a few weird looks as you walk past. Others know you and wave, although their eyebrows furrow in confusion, surprised that your best friend isn’t by your side, puzzled that the resident weirdo is.
The wrestling team is gathered around a drinking fountain, a rowdy group of clean-cut boys in matching blue letterman jackets, making it hard not to notice them. Andrew’s piercing blue eyes find Allison without trouble, and he looks at her like a lovesick puppy when their gazes meet. His smile is timid when he nods, more valiant when the girl waves at him.
He hesitates for a long second as you two approach, getting closer to them and closer to walking away; and, with a surge of courage, steps in front of you and speaks lowly, voice full of warmth. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Allison looks at the floor.
“You look lovely.” It’s barely a whisper, but the girl’s cheeks turn hot pink and you smile. You’re not usually a fan of being a third wheel, but they’re both so nervous you can’t really say anything, can you? 
Andrew isn’t paying attention to you, completely focused on Allison, tracing her face with his eyes, smiling dopely. He takes his hand out of his pocket and offers her a piece of white paper, wrinkled and torn from a notebook. “I wanted to give you this. Call me, will you?” And steps back to his spot at the back of his team as if nothing had happened.
His number is neatly written with blue ink, a small smiley face at the bottom of the note. When you giggle, Allison giggles with you.
“I think he likes you.” 
“Shut up.” There’s no bite or malice in her words.
“It’s cute.” 
“Should I call him?” She’s staring at the piece of paper as if it were made of gold.
You’re escandalised. “Of course! Call him today after school. The wrestling team doesn’t train on Mondays.” 
“What do I say?”
“Well, first you say hi and- hey,” an idea pops into your head like a lightbulb turning on, “what if I go over today? To your house. I can help you figure out what to say and then I’ll let you call him by yourself.”
Her brows crease in the middle. “No one’s ever been to my house before.” She says it slowly, almost void of emotion.
Oh. You have a good idea of how awful her parents were -they own a big house, pretty but cold, and never pay their daughter much attention. Maybe you have overstepped. Maybe Allison dislikes visitors as much as you do. Maybe she avoids her place if she can, too.
But then she nods slowly. “But if you want to help me, I’d- I’d like that.”
You sigh, relieved, when she speaks again. Uncertain, confused, trying to figure you out. “Why would you do this for me?”
“Mmmh,” you rub her arm, “that’s what friends are for, Allison.”
“Friends?” You nod and think you’ll say it as many times as she asks you to just to see her like this again -she seems happy, happier than you’ve seen her before. You recognise the twinkle of hope in her eyes, the apple red excitement on her cheeks. The realisation, she doesn’t have to be alone, not anymore. 
                                                  🌷 🌷 🌷
a/n: Is The Breakfast Club fandom active at all? I hope it is, because after this year’s rewatch I have a lot of feelings. I’m sorry about my bias for our two losers here, I love Allison and Brian so much ♡♡♡
Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated :) ♡
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It was sad to think that the woman who was on track to become the youngest president in history was not a servant for her husband and his lover. Going from greatness to serving it.
It didn't happen overnight. You used to work long hours, and as your husband grew more and more lonely, he eventually took on a lover: your secretary. This was the girl who ran your errands, brought you coffee, was stuck answering phone calls.
When you discovered them, you were heartbroken. You broke down in front of them. Humiliation coursed through your entire body. It was supposed to be the best night of your life. You had just secured the deal of the century, and here was your husband sleeping with the girl who took your coffee orders.
The worst part, once they realized you were there, they just continued making out. And, the shock of the betrayal caused your mind to shut down. You just stood there. Watching. Crying.
"Oh stop your whimpering." She said.
"What."
"If you're just going to watch the least you can do is massage my feet."
"What." Who was this girl to talk to you this way? You were her boss. You could make her life at work hell. Yes, monday morning you were going to fire her...
"I said" She snapped her fingers. "Massage my feet bitch."
Something in you snapped. You rushed to the side of the bed and began massaging her feet. She giggled as she looked down at you, your husband caressing her neck in kisses.
"I didn't actually think she would do it." She said, turning her head and pressing her tongue into your husbands mouth. You moaned watching the two of them. You always loved his lips, and now they were kissing someone else.
"I told you she'd be easy." He said smirking. It was at that moment you realized this whole escaped had been planned. Looking down, her toes were so pretty.
The two of them continued to make out. Finally, when they decided to go all the way, you were told to leave the room and prepare them breakfast. You were no longer allowed to see your husbands dick without permission.
You scrambled out of the room, crying as you prepared them breakfast. You still thought of making her life hell on Monday, but for now, you did as they commanded.
When Monday came, and you left a ton of work on your secretaries desk, she stormed into your office.
"I'm not doing this."
"Ye... Yes you are."
"No, I'm not." She said folding her arms. "You're going to do all of this work while I play on the computer."
"Why would I..."
"Because, I have these." She showed you pictures of yourself massaging her feet. "If you make me angry, I release them to the press and your shot at the presidency goes up in smoke."
Once more your heart sunk. "Fine."
"What?"
"Fine... I'll do the work."
"Good girl." She smiled. "Also, I'm going to need you to run out real quick and grab me a large iced pumkin spice coffee."
"Fine."
"And, no more of this fine shit." She said. "From now on, its simply Yes Ma'am. Understand."
You sighed in absolute defeat. "Yes Ma'am."
"Good." She turned, hair flipping in the air. "I have a surprise for you when you get home. It's a cute new uniform for my lil cuckquean."
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