#I was holding onto my glasses for life I can’t see anything without them but thank god for a good normal and respectful crowd🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂

[solarismp3]

My first mosh pit was at a rico concert wow I love my life

#txt #the have always been mosh pits at the concerts I go to but I didn’t like them enough to join #but with rico I was ready to risk it all even my eye sight #I was holding onto my glasses for life I can’t see anything without them but thank god for a good normal and respectful crowd🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂 #I’m at peace now rico bby ilyyyy

[clockwayswrites]

Masked in Amity

CW: Sam doesn't come off great in this, but not Sam bashing. She just has a lot of growing up to do still and knee jerk reacts badly. (I also don't want to listen to any Sam bashing please and ty.)

Sam’s room still looked the same as always. Danny supposed that’s what happened when someone moved out for college but still came home again— especially to a home like Sam’s. There were only a few posters, a few photos, and a knickknack or two that had changed between high school and now. Danny sat on the edge of the bed like always.

“So how’s school doing?” Danny asked into the awkward silence. Silences never used to be awkward between them, or was that just looking back with rose colored glasses?

“Ugh,” Sam gripped and flopped back onto her bed next to Danny. “Why would you even ask me that? You know I hate it.”

“Because it’s what you’re doing right now? It’s a huge part of your life, you can’t just… avoid it.”

“Watch me,” Sam said, bitterly. Her snarled lips looked weird without the dark purple lipstick. “I’m going to get my stupid law degree my parents are paying for and work at some stupid corporate firm Dad has connections at and when my trust fund has made enough in interest I’m going to quite and go open a non-profit and sue all those fuckers I was forced to work for over how they’ve fucked up the environment.”

“Okay,” Danny said. He didn’t want to argue about this. He just hoped this plan worked better than the last three Sam had had before her privilege knocked her down a peg.

“Can I ask about, I don’t know, your time in Chicago at least?”

“Chicago is amazing,” Sam said, wistfully. “Being in Chicago, I mean, I’m sure you know how it is, it really makes it clear how backwater Amity Park is. The things people worry about here are so small compared to what’s out there!”

Danny just hummed in response. He didn’t exactly know what to say to that. It didn’t feel completely wrong, but it wasn’t right either. Worries weren’t a competition like that.

“And the bands!” Sam continued, thankfully changing the topic. “I have got to see so many amazing bands. The local scene alone is amazing and no one knows about them so you can be right up close and a lot of times even talk to the band after. You should come for a show sometime.”

“I can try to,” Danny said. Sam’s music wasn’t usually his thing, but something like that might be fun. It would be different at least. Danny gave her a little smile. “Maybe Tucker could make it out too.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “You know he won’t. When was the last time you talked to him not on the computer or the phone? He’s only here at Christmas when you aren’t.”

“You know how I feel about Christmas, Sam,” Danny said, holding back a sigh. Sure Tucker had been busy lately and that had made him more distant, but he was still one of their trio. “And if we plan something then Tucker can schedule for it. Don’t count him out just because he’s busy.”

“Alright, fine, we can plan something for a bigger show with Tucker,” Sam agreed, “but you still need to come out to something local. They’re really better anyways. We’ll go out to eat first and hit up a bar or three after. I know some really great places— places like you’ve never seen.”

Sam reached up and wrapped her hands around Danny’s neck, pulling him down a little. “It can be a date.”

Something in Danny balked at that. It was an innocent enough comment. Sam and him had dated and then not and then dated again or just had fun together. They’d known each other so long that it was easy to just ebb and flow out of the different levels of a relationship like that.

This time, though, Danny found himself resisting the tide. “Or we can just hang out.”

The almost dreamy smile Sam had crumpled into a frown. “What? I mean, sure, it can, but why? Are you seeing someone?”

“Yes? No? I mean, I’ve been… sleeping with someone, but we’re not dating or anything.”

“That’s okay,” Sam said easily. “I’m not going to make you be exclusive. I don’t want to be either right now; we’re not around each other enough for that and You know that I’ve been sleeping with my roommate sometimes and I’ve met a cute person in study group now too with amazing fingers.”

“No, I know, just…” Danny gave a frustrated noise. Nightwing and him weren’t even close to being exclusive. Someone like Nightwing could have anyone they wanted and with how much he liked sex, Danny was pretty sure Nightwing did have whoever he wanted. Danny was just… convenient for the hero side and Danny didn’t begrudge the other that. It was convenient for Danny too. It was just…

Danny didn’t want to keep living the same cycle with Sam where he was her world for a few weeks or months and then just back to an occasional phone call. He didn’t want to keep being pulled back to Amity Park. Maybe meeting her in Chicago would be different enough, but Sam was still so tied to Amity and always would be by her parent’s money.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” Danny said slowly, feeling the words out as he said them. “Maybe it’s time just to leave us dating in the past?”

Sam dropped her hands and sat up. “Excuse me?”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just, we’ve tried being together in a lot of different ways and we always end up in the same place.”

“So you want to leave me in the past?”

“No!” Danny said quickly, trying to get ahead of this before Sam spiraled too badly from making assumptions. “I’d love to come to Chicago and see a band with you! Just… not as a date.”

“Because you want to leave that in the past,” Sam snapped and got up off the bed.

Danny scrambled off also.

“That’s not a bad thing. I enjoyed it and I know you did too. Just more, okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrase? I mean maybe we shouldn’t go down that road again when we know where it’s going to end.”

Sam crossed her arms. That was never a good sign. “Right, because I’m always going to be a dead end, is that it? Not like you who’s off playing hero with the big names?”

“What? What does me being a Titan have to do with this?”

“Don’t play dumb, Danny, we both know you’re not. You left to go be a famous hero and hardly looked back at Amity Park or me or Tucker or your parents. What if the town needed you?”

Danny threw his hands up in the air. “Why would they need me? I destroyed the portal, came to an agreement with Vlad, made sure my parents couldn’t build another working one— it fixed everything!”

“And then left.”

“So I could help other people!”

“Sure it wasn’t so that you could be famous?”

Danny closed his mouth with a clack.

Sam winced at her own words. “Danny…”

“No.” Danny backed up a few steps from her. “No. You don’t get to— you of all people don’t get to come at me like that! I never wanted to be a hero, Sam! You’re the one who said I needed to protect Amity and you were right, sure, but it’s never what I wanted! You wanted it!”

“Danny, no—” Sam reached out for him and Danny stepped back again, hitting the wall.

“Yes you did, Sam! You did or I never would have had to die a second time after your wish! I lost everything again! I don’t have a future like you and Tucker, I just have being a hero. I just have being dead.”

“Come on Danny,” Sam tried. She moved close again, slowly, like Danny was some sort of feral animal.

Maybe he really was just a caged beast.

“I’m just— I better go. I’m just going to go,” Danny said. In a flash of light he was back to being Phantom. He let himself tip back and phase through the wall.

As he left Amity Park behind, he couldn’t help but think it really said something that he was far more comfortable being Phantom these day than Danny.

--

AN: Here's yous all voted on treat for the day! This comes before Danny showing up at Dick's door, quite upset.

#dp x dc #past Danny/Sam #masked #death defying

[sc0tters]

So Long | Quinn Hughes

summary: after years of no contact you finally reach out to Quinn, but in the way he’d least expect.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, mentions of death.

word count: 2.03k

authors note: so I’ve never written anything like this before. But it felt interesting and I rolled with it. Going through that “I don’t know if I like what I write” phase again so just bare with me for the next few days.

You were meant to be the girl where things didn’t work out.

Quinn met you during the summer of 2015. You were both still in high school and your family had just made the move from Tennessee to Michigan, where your father purchased the new lake house.

Quickly you two became as thick as thieves constantly at each others side. That was how your summers were when you two built onto your friendship constantly growing closer than you ever thought possible.

So it was no surprise when you both landed up at the university of Michigan where you were quickly asked to be Quinn’s girlfriend.

The whole Hughes family adored you much like how your family adored him.

You were in the car arguing about how Quinn intended on moving to Vancouver to join his new team, the Canucks “don’t you love me anymore?” Quinn felt his throat grow raw as the argument seemed to ensue.

Tears ran down your face as your heart broke at the question “of course I love you baby,” you reached out to grab his hand as you wanted to feel some kind of comfort from all of this but he instead decided to pull away.

Quinn stared out of the window watching the raindrops dance on the glass seeming unaware of what was going on inside of the car “then why are you breaking up with me?” His question rang through your ears.

There were many reasons that came to your mind, you were mainly trying to protect him as you hoped that he would hate you after this all. But instead you couldn’t reveal the truth “we just aren’t meant to be together.” In the logical part of your brain you knew that it was true, but your heart wanted to erase this conversation from your brain forever.

Your comment only hurt him more “you can’t mean that.” You were the first girl that Quinn opened his heart up to entirely, it was all in the palm of your hand and that terrified the eldest Hughes boy.

Quinn couldn’t even look you in the eye as he heard your sobs over the hum of the engine “I want you to be happy-” you made it sound like he needed more than you “I am happy goddammit!” Quinn yelled turning around as he flung his arms in frustration.

It made you choke on your tears as you shook your head “I need you to be happy without me.” It was tough for you to admit but some sense of comfort was going to be brought to you if you knew that Quinn had moved on.

It had been years since that moment in the car. Quinn tried to move on from you, but your abrupt exit from his life left the hockey player wondering how this is his fault.

Despite Ellen and Jim’s efforts to tell Quinn that you leaving was a choice that you made, it seemed to always fall on deaf ears.

So when your moms car pulled up to the Hughes lake house, it was safe to say that the whole family was taken by surprise when only your mom seemed to leave it.

She looked tired as her cheeks seemed tear stained and she carried a stack of letters that represented the way she felt carrying the world on her shoulders.

Ellen was quick to open the door trying to urge your mom inside for a coffee so they could catch up “I can’t stay.” Your mom sighed shaking her head.

Her hand seemed to shake as she held out five letters “I came to drop these off.” She explained holding them out for Ellen to grab.

It was clear that the blonde was confused but she still listened “send your family my best okay?” Ellen’s voice was soft as she could tell that something was up.

All your mom could do was nod before she made her way back to the car trying to avoid being in tears as she knew you would have hated seeing her cry.

Quinn was quick to run to his mom to see what happened “what did she want?” He enquired trying to figure out what was going on.

Whilst Ellen tried to piece the bits of information together she shrugged “I don’t actually know.” She mumbled realising that each of the letters were addressed to someone in the family: Ellen, Jim, Lukey, Big Shot, Love.

Ellen held out the final one to Quinn “I think that this one is for you.” She sent her son a comforting smile as the boy grabbed it from her hand.

His finger ran over the name inked out in black pen. You were the only one who called him that and it was in your writing, a style he would recognise from anywhere.

Quinn knew you didn’t like letters, they were weird and you always seemed to thing they were meant to tell some sad sob story. So it made him nervous that you had written one.

Ellen watched as Quinn shook his head “I don’t want to read it.” It had been all these years since you two last spoke, so why were you reaching out like this.

Surely if you wanted to talk you would have driven up to the house yourself “just give her a chance.” Ellen urged him as something in her gut told her that this was serious.

Rolling his eyes Quinn figured he’d listen to his mom “fine but don’t be surprised when I come back and tell you that it’s stupid.” Given his knowledge of your dislike for letters, Quinn hoped that he would find some kind of comfort there.

It was warm as the sun shone on the water “what are you thinking about?” Quinn asked as your feet danced in the water beneath the dock.

You smiled as you looked up at him “I always feel close to you when I’m by the water.” You confessed seeing his cheeks turn pink.

Quinn rubbed his elbow against yours “you make it sound like the water is our place.” Quinn couldn’t help but laugh at his comment before he went silent seeing that you looked like a lightbulb had gone off above his head.

It made you smile when you thought about it “when you miss me visit the water, and I promise I’ll be there too.” You proposed sticking your pinky finger out to him “you know what? Okay.” Quinn shrugged licking his finger with yours as he smiled.

𝐻𝑒𝓎 𝒬𝓊𝒾𝓃𝓃,

𝐼𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓁𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃’𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝒾𝓉. 𝒜 𝓈𝑒𝒸𝓇𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓀𝑒𝓅𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑒𝒻𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒱𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓋𝑒𝓇, 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝑔𝓃𝑜𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓁𝑒𝓊𝓀𝒶𝑒𝓂𝒾𝒶.

Quinn felt his heart drop as he read out the first line “what?” He asked feeling emotions all come flooding into his brain as he thought back to that summer. How on earth could he have not picked up that the love of his life was sick?

𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓁𝓎 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒. 𝒲𝒽𝒾𝓁𝓈𝓉 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃, 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶 𝒸𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀. 𝐼𝓃 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓉𝒽 𝓃𝑜𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒𝒹, 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓎. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇.

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝐼 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒 𝓊𝓅 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓊𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝓈 𝐼 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝐼’𝓂 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝒩𝒶𝓃𝒸𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒩𝑜𝓇𝒶 (𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝓃𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝓃 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊.) 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓉𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓂𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝓊𝓉. 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓃𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝑔𝓃𝑜𝓈𝒾𝓈 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓂𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝑒 𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒𝒹. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝒶 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝑒. 𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

Quinn felt a tear roll down his cheek before it dropped to land on the letter. The hockey player still loved you, and it brought him some comfort that your time with him left just as big of an impact on your life as it did his.

𝐼𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝒜𝓁𝑒𝓍 𝑜𝓇 𝒞𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝒶𝓊𝓃𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓂𝓎 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝐼’𝓂 𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓎. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓉, 𝐼’𝓂 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝒹. 𝒮𝑜 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝒽, 𝐼 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃’𝓉 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒 𝐼’𝓂 𝓌𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑔.

As unintentional as it was, Quinn couldn't help it when a laugh left his lips mainly when he read that last line. You could have told him anything, literally, this was your letter as you got to say your final goodbye. And here you were telling him you won at something that was never meant to be a competition.

𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝒷𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒, 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓁𝓈𝓉 𝐼’𝓂 𝒷𝑜𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹𝓈 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒶𝓎𝒷𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓅𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎.

Not even two days ago had Quinn gotten the call, that day when he became captain, was the present. And it seemed to hurt him that two realities he never put together, he never wanted to put those two together. Where you were dead and he was captain.

𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓈𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒. 𝐵𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓁𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒸𝓇𝒶𝓏𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝑜.

𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝒻𝒶𝓇 𝒻𝑒𝓉𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓈𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒶 𝓌𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈𝓁𝓎. 𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓉𝓇𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝒸𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝐼’𝓂 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹, 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝒷. 𝒴𝑜𝓊’𝓋𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝒶 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝓊𝓃 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝑜𝒻 𝓊𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼’𝓂 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒.

Quinn didn't like the idea of moving on before, but now he definitely hated it. How was he meant to be okay moving on when there was an alternate universe where you never got sick and he was still with you "'s not fair." Quinn grumbled to himself shaking his head as he clearly disagreed with what you were trying to tell him.

𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒶 𝒻𝑒𝓌 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝒶 𝓂𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝑜𝑜. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓁𝓎 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝒻𝓊𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓊𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓈𝒶𝒹.

𝑀𝓎 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝒹𝓈 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈, 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓈𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑒. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓈𝓅𝑜𝓉𝓈, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹𝓇𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝒻𝒻 𝒶𝓈 𝓌𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝒹𝓈.

You always wanted to be a mother, it was something you dreamed about doing as you grew up. Quinn wanted to be a father as well and that caused you two to very quickly realize in this essence that your futures were more than likely connected to each other.

𝐼𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓂𝑒, 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝑔𝑜 𝓋𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝑜.

𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓅 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒹,

𝓎/𝓃 𝓍

Quinn didn’t know how to feel as he reread your letter trying to make sure that he had not missed anything that you had written. Tears rolled down his cheeks as his hands shook so hard he let go of your letter “shit!” Quinn realised what he had done as he reached out to grab the letter that was brought down to the lake by the wind. There was nothing left for him to do besides for just to stare at the letter as it absorbed water letting the paper get wet, much like his cheeks.

The battle between the water and the paper finally seemed to end as the letter paper began to rip.

As sobs left his lips he rocked his body back and fourth coming to terms with something he never thought he would have to worry about.

You were officially gone.

#quinn Hughes imagines #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes oneshot #oneshots #imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #amber writes fics

[tadpolesonalgae]

Feysand x closeted!reader: Drunken Mistakes[*]

A/N: I am committed to writing a Part 2 to this where dark!Feysand come onto reader once she’s sober (Part 3)

Warnings: smut, pussy eating, spitting, kind of exhibitionism, kind of threesome fmf, edging?, not proofread

“Isn’t it pretty?”

You laugh drunkenly as Feyre crawls across the bed to peer down your shirt as you show her your bra. “I saw it while shopping and thought it looked great—” You hiccup, flushing as she gets a full view of your breasts, “—and it was a matching set, so I thought I’d get something nice for myself, for one in my life!”

The door to her bedroom opens, and Rhys enters with a tray. When he sets it on the bedside table, you see it holds a glass of water, some buttered toast, and a pill. “Let me get a better look, I can’t see it with your top on,” Feyre argues, hands already greedily dropping to its hem, pushing it up over your chest. She takes in the blue-grey fabric, violet lace decorating it’s edges.

“And it offers super good support, too,” you slur, eyes squinting at Rhys as you try to figure out why he’s here. “Feyre, darling,” he calls, and her attentions drags away from you, making your shoulders slump. It’s not as if you need her attention, but…you just feel prettier when she’s looking at you. Like you’re worth her time.

“She needs to eat.” His eyes slide to you, while you stare at Feyre with unconcealed adoration. He nods to you, “she’s giving you an opportunity.” Feyre’s eyes return to yours and you flush, having been caught staring—off in your own world. Her eyes flick back to Rhys’s and she looks unsure.

Your body feels cold without her attention.

“She’s drunk, Rhys,” Feyre returns, worrying her lower lip. He shrugs, as if it’s of no matter, but the stiffness betrays him. “Drunk words and sober thoughts and all that.” He turns to you, “isn’t that right, little lynx?”

Your attention drags to him, “sorry, what?”

He laughs, and the sound drags down your spine, making you shiver. His sparkling eyes flick back to his mate, “see?” She bites her lip, looking at you, and you wish she were putting her teeth in your own instead. “She won’t remember a thing in the morning.” The High Lord settles on the bed, beside you, the mattress dipping. “Alcohol be damned, we’re daemati. This whole night will be a blur if you wish it.” He cups her cheeks, looking at her with nothing but love, and you feel the need to look away. Like you’re seeing something private. “We can have our fun, and she’ll be fine, none the wiser.”

Rhysand turns to you, hands leaving Feyre’s cheeks as his hungry violet gaze meets yours, “isn’t that right, little lynx?” You tilt your head as you look at him, “what are you talking about?” A smirk tips his hellish mouth, before he’s leaning forward, enveloping your lips with his own. You squeak, startled as you freeze, not knowing what to do. “Rhys!” Feyre scolds, but he keeps his soft mouth over yours.

He pulls away before you have a chance to figure anything out, hand cupping your jaw as you subconsciously lean into his warmth. “Did you like that, hm?” He asks, and you blink. Then dip your head. Because you did like it, and you don’t want to lie to him. You can’t lie to him. To either of them.

You blink, and your top has been removed, leaving you in your bra and skirt. “What about that?” Rhys asks, a playful lilt to his voice, and his lips are more flushed than before. You feel hotter, and more out of breath than seconds ago. “What about what?” He exchanges glances with his mate, and her hungry eyes settle on you.

She’s taken back to her years in the forest, when she was the huntress in those snowy woods, and remembers the beautiful doe she’d seen on that fateful day.

“You…said you’d bought a matching set…” She swallows, watching you nervously, “…are you wearing it now?” Rhys smirks at his mate, an appreciative gleam in his eyes as he takes in his cunning High Lady. You nod giddily, smiling drunkenly, and she’s not sure she can work up the courage to ask. What if you say no? Or she scares you off? Or what if—

“Would you like me to show you?”

Her head goes quiet, but you’re already lying down, lifting your hips to shimmy out of your skirt. You move to your hands and knees, crawling toward her so she can clearly see the pretty underwear. Rhysand swears under his breath, watching with lustful fascination as you bare your pretty hips, clad in thin blue-grey fabric with the light, deep blue lace neatly edging the hem—so blue it’s violet.

Feyre’s breath catches as you look down at yourself obliviously, fingers playing with the band of the material, tugging lightly at the lace. “It looked so pretty, and the lace reminded me of—… I mean, I liked their colour—”

“Finish that sentence.” Rhys’ voice cuts through your own, strained and demanding and you flinch. You force a laugh, settling down on your knees as you turn to him, Feyre still speechless. “The colour. The bluey-grey goes nicely with the violet—”

“No…” he tuts, hand lightly gripping your jaw as he tilts you to look at him. “What does it remind you of, huh?”

Your breath catches as he looks at you with those eyes.

You feel utterly bare.

You swallow, “I—…”

“I’ll know if you lie to me.” Your cheeks flush with heat and you try to force it down—to no avail. “I—…uh.” Your eyes skim to Feyre, who in turn is staring at you ravenously. Her eyes flick to yours and you nearly reel back at the hunger. The starving hunger in the depth of her gaze. “Your eyes,” you mumble, stammering the words out, “they reminded me of your eyes, High Lord.”

Rhys has to bite back a beastly snarl at the confession, needing to put his teeth in your skin, taste you, have you coming on his tongue—

“You like the feeling of our eyes on you?” Feyre asks, and you shift uncomfortably, raising your knees to cover your body as you lean back on your hands. “When you put it like that…”

She follows, shifting onto her hands and knees as she crawls after you, slowly cornering you at the other end of the bed. Rhys swears he gets hard from just watching the hunt. His huntress. Those years left their mark on her, and the scars are showing. “You liked the feeling of having us covering your most intimate parts? Hidden beneath those pretty clothes?” Your thighs squeeze together at her words, shaking your head.

“It’s not like that…I just—”

“Don’t.” She commands, barely a whisper as you reach the headboard, back pressing flush to the cushioned panel. Your lips seal at her order, following obediently. “Do you want to see mine?” She stops when she’s between your legs, hands pressing behind you.

You swallow, eyes flicking away. “Don’t you—… Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” She gives you a curious look. “You’re my High Lady. And…Rhys is my High Lord. And you’re mates.” Her lips quirk at the edges, “what’s a small peek between girl friends, right?” Her hands settle to the tops of your thighs, fingers dancing along your skin, cresting your curved knees. “You’re always saying I’m the closest friend you have… Besides, you’re already only in your underwear, wouldn’t you feel more comfortable if I was too?”

Her grin turns vulpine, “or do you like the idea of commanding Rhys’ attention?”

Traitorous heat flushes your cheeks. You don’t want to tell them the truth, you love having their eyes on you, love it when they care for you, and talk to you, and touch you— “do you—…do you want me to help you? Undo your dress?” You divert, and Feyre’s eyes spark.

She feels the imploring pressure of Rhys’ gaze upon her, encouraging her to take the opening you’re obliviously giving her. She won’t waste it.

The High Lady shifts on the bed, sweeping her hair over a shoulder, baring the ties of her dress to you. “Be my guest.”

She’s set on her knees, back to you. Your eyes traitorously flick to Rhysand’s, as if he might stop you from touching his mate so intimately, but his eyes are hungry, watching like a predator. He nods his head, and your fingers lift to her dress, pulling the ties free.

Then she’s allowing the gown to flow off her shoulders, crawling out of the constraining material as she kicks it away. Feyre turns to face you, revelling in the way your cheeks heat. “What do you think, birdie?”

“I—…uh, it’s nice. Very nice. Suits you…well.” It’s all an understatement. The fabric is a lighter blue-grey than your own, verging on a creamy navy, with white lace strewn finely across the straps. There are small, floral embellishments dotted across the material in thin, silver thread. Absolutely all of her is beautiful.

“That’s it? It’s just…nice?” She breathes, settling onto her hands and knees as she crawls over you. You swallow, leaning backward as she prowls forward. “I…I’m struggling for words, Fey. It’s…very lovely.” She pushes you beneath her, and you follow willingly, melting into a pliant mess under her guiding palms. “I’m sure you can find a way to articulate yourself…through one way or another.”

She leans closer, and you feel her breath puff over your mouth, eyes dipping down. Her tongue darts out, lapping over her lower lip, making your eyes flick back up to hers hurriedly. She’s caught you.

The High Lady wants to put her mouth over yours, but she’s struggling with that first step that will—hopefully—set all the others into a fluid stream. She needn’t concern herself, as she hears your heart rate increase, how your eyes are quavering, desperate to descend. Then your eyelids are fluttering closed, tipping yourself toward her. Access.

She hesitates. You’re drunk, and she’s not sure she would be able to look you in the eye if she has to wash your memory. But you’re clearly giving her permission…

‘What are you waiting for?’

Her eyes snap to her mate, who’s still sat on the edge of the bed, lower down. She can see the clear evidence of his arousal at the display, and it makes her thighs squeeze together.

‘Take her.’

‘She’s drunk, Rhys… She doesn’t know what she’s doing.’

‘She knows what she wants. Give it to her.’

Feyre returns her eyes to you, your slightly puffy lips, the heat from your cheeks, the open expectation resting on your features.

‘Before she opens her eyes.’

She leans down, lips ghosting over your own, and she feels the shudder that traces down your spine, the soft sigh you release.

‘Take her or I will.’

Her mouth presses against yours firmly, lips opening as she melts across your tongue, heat pounding between your legs. You moan quietly, almost dizzy from relief, feeling weightless. Her hands brush over your sides, grazing your breasts as you arch beneath her deft fingertips.

You yelp when she reaches around to your back, unclasping your bra, pushing the straps over your shoulders. Your arms fly across your chest, breaking the kiss to conceal you from her eyes.

Her hand settles over your wrist, not tugging, just resting there. “Why are you hiding? There’s nothing to be nervous about.” Her blue-grey eyes stare down at you gently, piercing through your shields with terrifying ease.

Your eyes flicker to where Rhys sits lazily, taking in the show, not making the slightest effort to conceal his arousal. “Don’t worry about him. Focus on me,” she demands softly, stroking your cheek to return your attention to her. “He’s harmless, really.”

“He doesn’t look harmless…”

And you’re completely correct. Being proven so as he prowls up quietly behind his mate, draping himself over her back, arms circling her waist, pressing kisses to her neck as he stares you down.

‘Sit upright.’

You follow the command mindlessly, not focusing on where the urge came from as you move to your knees before them, arms moving to settle between your thighs as they take in your perky nipples.

‘Open your legs.’

Again, you follow obliviously, simply yielding to the inclination. Your thighs part as you set them wider, revealing more of yourself to their hungry eyes.

“See? She just needs some orders to follow, then she’s all set.” Rhys whispers to her ear, fingertips tracing over her stomach as they both look at you with pools of desire in their eyes. “She won’t remember a thing in the morning. So what’s holding you back?”

Feyre shifts in his arms, a predator teaching his lover to hunt like he does. “Do you not want her? We can toss her out if you don’t like her.”

“Rhys,” she snarls. She knows what he’s doing, but falls for it anyway. Stumbling straight into his trap. “Then take her.”

When she hesitates longer, refusing to make another move, Rhysand sighs sharply. His fingers drop to the clasp on her bra, tearing away the offending material. Feyre gasps, wanting to cover herself from you, but he catches her wrists. “Don’t.” She snarls, but it lacks the necessary bite to warn her mate away from you.

You watch almost absently, until your return to the front of your mind, re-inhabiting your body as you flush at the sight. Your eyes latch onto Rhys’, and a dangerous promise dances in his gaze. If you make the first move, everything will follow, slot seamlessly into place. “Go on,” he taunts softly, “have a taste.”

Feyre nearly loses her mind when you hesitantly move forward, one hand placing on her thigh, the other cupping her jaw. Your nose brushes her, and you can feel their eyes on you, as if you’re some rare creature they’re tracking, afraid one move will send you fleeing from their bedroom. Your look down at her lips, so plump and pillowy, but…

You stiffen, the alcohol beginning to ware off. Fey’s your friend. And female. You shouldn’t be doing this. Your eyes worriedly rise to Feyre’s and your breath catches.

Please. The word shines in her gaze, so desperate and pleading it wipes away any previous doubts in your mind. Allowing yourself to live in the moment. Love in the moment.

You lower your mouth to hers, and feel the soft groan in her chest.

And then everything snaps.

She’s pulling off Rhys, her hands gripping your hips, snaking round your back, tangling in your hair as she raises herself onto her knees. Her tongue sweeps in, dominating your mouth with relentless, demanding strokes. All you can do is arch into her as she devours you, pulling you tighter against her body as she indulges herself.

Rhys chuckles softly, pulling back to watch the erotic display unfold. “I think I’ll leave you two to get to know each other, shall I?”

Feyre pulls away at the words, spinning you around so you’re back is to her mate. You stiffen, feeling his hungry gaze lick up your spine, feeling wary of having the devious male out of sight. He could get up to any number of tricks.

“You want a show, Rhys?” She growls lowly, hands brushing down until she’s grabbing your ass possessively. You press your hands to her rib cage, beneath her breasts as you startled at the proprietary handling. “A show would be nice,” he drawls, “I’ve become tired of resorting to fantasy. I’m sure the real thing will be much more satisfying, Feyre, darling.”

She snarls, pushing you down onto the bed, crawling up your body as she lays a dominating hand over your chest. Then she’s dipping down, teeth sinking into your neck as she marks you over and over again, until there are very few patches of skin that she hasn’t bruised. Her hands touch you greedily, cupping your breasts as she rolls the tips of her fingers over your peaked nipples.

Your High Lady pulls away, long enough to glare down at you. “And to think you’ve been keeping this to yourself.” Her eyes run over your body, “keeping yourself away from us.” You flush at the possessive tone, preening beneath her attention as she thumbs your breasts. “Fey…” you pant, desperate and pleading.

“Tell me,” she orders, “tell me what to do. What do you want from me? Say it and it’s yours.”

Your eyes nearly roll at her admission, parting your thighs for her to settle closer. “Your mouth,” you pant, vision blurring, “please, fey. I need you between my legs. Please.” She doesn’t think twice, already shifting down your body until she’s between your thighs, scattering more marks over your skin. The tears spill, “Fey, please. Don’t tease me.”

A hand cups your cheek, large and calloused as you meet violet eyes.

“Why should she, little lynx?” Rhys drawls softly, appearing above you. “You’ve been driving us mad for so long. Why should we reward you for withholding our pleasure for so long, hm?”

Feyre lowers between your thighs, her hot breath fanning over your clothed cunt. Slim fingers brush over the apex of your thighs, a ghost of a touch. It has you preening, raising your hips into her touch. “I’m sorry—… I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to!”

Rhysand laughs, brushing away your tears casually, as if they don’t cloud his mind with arousal at the thought of shoving your head between his legs and just using you until you’re spluttering and choking on his come. “Ohhh, I see. You didn’t know.” Feyre snaps the band of your underwear in response, drawing a whimper from your mouth, hips bucking.

“You want me to believe you’ve never noticed the way Feyre and I look at you? How she often walks you home whenever you’re drunk because you’ll become flushed and carelessly take your clothes off for her? How you’ll get those inappropriate daydreams at the most inopportune moments? Have you never pieced it together, little Lynx?”

Heat warms your cheeks as you shake your head earnestly. “No! Rhys, I swear…” Feyre’s fingers glide over your clit, brushing in light oscillations as you buck your hips toward her. “Fey,” you whimper, beseeching her, “please. Please, I need you so badly.”

“Ah, ah, ah. You want her, you’ll have to convince me.” Rhys stares down at you, upside down to one another. “What do you want?” You plead, feeling as her tongue lolls out, lapping over the material. You whine at the wetness, but it’s dulled by that damned fabric—

Rhysand laughs, appreciating his cunning mate for her quick-thinking.

“It’s quite simple really,” he begins, giving you a coy smile that has slick dampening your underwear. “What is it?” You try to hurry him, eyes nearly rolling as her tongue laps lower, pressing over your entrance. You need her inside.

He tuts, hand gripping your jaw as he tilts your head upward, pressing you into the mattress to look at him. “You’re ours,” he drawls. “Whenever we want, whenever we need. You’re ours.” You nod desperately, just needing Feyre to give you her pleasuring mouth. “Promise it.” He drawls. “Make that bargain with us. Submit yourself to your High Lord and Lady, and we’ll give everything to you.”

Feyre thumbs at your clit, tongue following soon after as it swipes over the wet fabric, a mix of saliva and arousal. “I’m yours. I swear it! Promise it. Whenever you want, for whatever you need. I’m yours. Just—… Please!”

Dark delights rushes those violet eyes, the pads of his fingers brushing against your lower lip as you feel something sting down your chest—along your sternum. The bargain mark.

“That’s it,” he groans, squeezing the muscles of your jaw as he leans closer to you, “so good for us.” He spits into your mouth, scenting the wave of arousal that overwhelms his senses. You moan at the action, Feyre pulling your underwear from your heat, strands of slick connecting from the fabric to your cunt.

Your tongue moves in your mouth, playing with his spit, preening as her mouth envelops you. It’s the best paradise you’ve ever known, the wet heat of her tongue lapping over your pussy, playing with your clit. You nearly scream when she slides two fingers into you, easing her way in. Your mind goes blank, gripping Rhys’ hand as you open your mouth wider, curving your back and lapping at his fingers, asking for more.

He forgets how powerful arousal is sometimes. How it sinks it’s claws into one’s mind, until you can hardly tell up from down, or whether you’re truly acting of your own volition. Right now, he wouldn’t be surprised if you were controlling him, with the way his lips seal shut, gathering the saliva on his tongue, before he spits down.

You shatter in response, Feyre suckling on your clit so intently as her fingers pump and curl, stimulating you in ways you’d never imagined.

This time, you do scream.

Your world collapses as wave after wave crests over your body, soaking you in arousal as pleasure crashes down, coursing through your skin like a second life force. Your eyes squeeze shut, pushing tears over their edge with you as you free fall through the pleasure.

“So good for us,” Rhys drawls, “so marvellously perfect, aren’t you, little lynx?” You nod desperately, swallowing down his praise, tasting him on your tongue because you’re so good and so perfect and so delightfully theirs.

Feyre pulls up from between your thighs, fingers withdrawing and you take in how her mouth glistens. Then she’s hauling you to her, and your thighs are wrapped around her hips, and you’re clawing at one another, already desperate for round two.

Your High Lady lifts you from the bed, turning you around so you’re on your hands and knees before her mate. He’s settled down, hands bracing himself on the mattress, long legs either side of you. He’s giving you a perfect view of his prominent arousal.

“Go on,” he taunts, softly, a hint of overpowering lust and affection twining in his lover’s voice, “set to work.”

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020

#Feysand #Feysand x reader #Feysand smut #feysand x reader smut #Feysand x f!reader #Feysand x f!reader smut #x f!reader #June

[magicshopaholic]

Caterpillar (Hoseok x OC)

Summary: Hoseok starts coming to terms with his feelings.

Pairing: Hoseok x OC

Genre: Some angst, some humour, some fluff

Word count: 5.6 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: mentions of parental death, mentions of unhealthy eating habits

A/N: Highly recommended to read Double Take for context, but can be read without as well. Begins about a month after Helping Hands.

Also - I've taken a leap of faith and started the 👾 Discord channel 👾 Here's to a social experiment that can turn out any way you want 🍻

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive  @faearchives @margopinkerton  @dreaming-with-happiness  @confessionsofamarshlily  @purpleseoul7 @sumzysworld @xjoonchildx @infinitehobi @handfullofcandids

Listen to: "100 words" by prateek kuhad

hoseok masterlist | main masterlist

Hoseok taps his foot and checks his watch. It’s almost five past seven, meaning it’s almost five minutes late. Turning slightly, he peers into the small doorway of the building, trying to see anything that would indicate how much longer this would take. Then, mercifully, the stained glass door is pushed open and people start filing out one by one.

Sighing in relief, he waits to spot Chaeyoung but as more and more people leave, some walking down the street and some getting into parked cars, his frown deepens when she isn’t one of them. He checks his messages, wondering if his information is incorrect, for nearly the entire yoga class has exited now. He contemplates calling her again but before he can decide, he finally sees her step out, a tote bag hitched on one shoulder and her long hair in a ponytail.

“Chae!” He calls, cringing when a couple of people turn to look. Ducking his head and pulling his cap lower down, he jogs over to where she’s continuing down the pavement, apparently not having heard him. “Chaeyoung,” he repeats at a normal volume, frowning when she still doesn’t turn. “Hey, I’m calling your name,” he tries to say, reaching out and grabbing her arm, when a blinding pain shoots up his face.

“Oh, my God!”

“Oh, my God!” he cries, holding his hands up to his face where his nose feels like it’s been crushed.

“Hoseok?”

He nods and doubles over, his eyes watering slightly, when he feels a pair of small hands steering him by the shoulders and back onto what feels like a bench.

“Oh, God, what are you -” She sounds winded - and terribly confused. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Oh, my God,” he mutters, his voice muffled. He drops his hands to his sides, his eyes squeezed shut. “What did you do? I can’t - I can’t feel -” He groans dramatically. “Is my face broken? Is it my nose? Is there blood?”

“Your face…” Soft fingers gingerly touch the bridge of his nose and Hoseok flinches. “It seems okay.”

“Really? There’s no blood?”

“There’s no blood,” she confirms. “I think you’re okay. Jesus… oppa, what are you doing here? And why would you grab me like that?”

Hoseok opens his eyes tentatively, the initial pain and shock already subsiding, to see Chaeyoung take a seat beside him. “I didn’t grab you. I was just trying to get your attention without being seen,” he explains, lightly touching his nose. “Why did you punch me?”

“Because I thought you were trying to grab me!” she exclaims. “Besides, we just learned it in class so I was already kind of in the zone.”

“You -” He frowns incredulously. “What the hell kind of yoga class was this?”

“I didn’t do yoga. I took a self-defense class,” she explains. “Yoga… wasn’t what I needed today.” She bites her lip apologetically. “But I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“No,” he sighs, sitting up straighter and trying to move his face, relieved when it doesn’t hurt too much. “I’m glad you know what to do when someone grabs you, I guess.”

Chaeyoung gives him a small smile before frowning. “Um… so, what are you… I mean…” She shakes her head. “Why didn’t you call?”

Hoseok glances at her out of the corner of his eye. She looks flushed, although whether it’s from her class or accidentally having punched him, he can’t tell. “I did, about two hours ago. You didn’t answer.”

She nods slowly. “Right. My phone’s been on silent for most of the day.” When he doesn’t respond, she continues. “How did you even know I was here?”

“Jimin.”

“So, Sooah.”

“They’re kind of a package deal now.”

“Right.” She gives him the same small smile, almost amused, before it fades. “So… what’s going on?”

“Well…” Hoseok takes off his cap and runs a hand through his hair, suddenly awkward. “I was in the neighbourhood and I wanted to see if… you maybe wanted to get a coffee… or a frozen yoghurt or… something. It’s pretty warm out.”

She looks at him a little skeptically and Hoseok wonders if she’s mentally calculating how far both his house and the Big Hit building are from here. For a moment, he’s afraid she’s going to decline but then she nods slowly. “Sure. I could get some frozen yoghurt. In fact, I think I owe you one now,” she adds, and they both chuckle.

Hoseok hesitates, hoping he hasn’t pressured her into this, but when she stands up and holds out a hand for him to take, he sighs inwardly in relief. He takes her hand and stands up as well, feeling his nose throb dully again.

“Oppa,” she says as they begin walking and their hands separate, “why are you limping?”

“Limping?” He straightens up self-consciously. “I’m not limping…”

“Yeah, you were, just now…”

“No, I wasn’t…”

“You know, the nerves in your face don’t affect your ability to walk…”

“Oh, I must have missed the email where you became a doctor…”

—

An hour later, they walk down the street leading up to Chaeyoung’s apartment building, a small tub of frozen yoghurt in each of their hands.

“You know,” says Hoseok, taking a spoonful of his banana yoghurt, “I owe you a bit of an apology.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm. Growing up, I didn’t take you very seriously,” he begins, rolling his eyes when she nods in agreement. “I don’t know what it was but I just didn’t… I don’t know, I always thought you were just a kid. Like, what did you know? You know?”

“Sure.”

“But,” he continues, “I feel like I misjudged you. Because you told me, back when we all went to Jeju for my parents’ anniversary weekend, that apricots were a good topping on a dessert and I didn’t believe you, but now…” He simply sighs and spoons out a shredded apricot from his yoghurt. “I can’t believe how well these flavours go. I mean, you were really onto something.”

Chaeyoung suppresses a smile and nods. “I really was. You should’ve listened to me.”

“I know,” he agrees. “I can’t believe I wasted fourteen years not knowing how good of a topping apricots are.”

“You know what’s ironic?” she asks, popping a strawberry into her mouth. “After that day, I stopped eating apricots. It was like they sucked all of a sudden. And then when I was, like… seventeen or something, I made this dessert that we used to eat when we were kids that had apricots in it, and I realised what an idiot I’d been.”

“If you listened to thirteen-year-old me’s advice, then, yeah, you were.” He finishes the last of his yoghurt and holds his hand out for her empty cup as well, depositing them both in a passing garbage bin. “But tell me more about this dessert with apricots in it.”

But she shrugs and waves a hand dismissively. “My dad lost the recipe years ago. It was kind of like a mix of a pie and a pudding… the only thing I got right in it were the apricots.” She falls silent.

Hoseok nods but doesn’t prod. He glances at her furtively again, letting her walk a couple of steps ahead of him, observing her general demeanour. Neither Sooah nor Jimin had mentioned anything about a self-defense class; in fact, to Hoseok’s knowledge, she had left behind all high intensity sports and workouts in middle school, joining the dance club in college and taking up yoga after that. He thinks of her flushed cheeks and heavy breathing when she’d exited the class, along with her phone being on silent all day.

It’s always a hard day for her.

“By the way,” says Chaeyoung, turning around and waiting for Hoseok to catch up. “Thanks for this.”

“For what?”

“This. The yoghurt, the walk.” She pauses. “The company.”

Hoseok nods nonchalantly. “Of course. No need to thank me. I had fun. And made a life-changing discovery about apricots,” he adds.

She cracks half a smile before giving him a look. “Hoseok.”

“What?”

“I know you know.”

“Know what?”

She sighs hugely, but doesn’t sound annoyed. “You showed up out of nowhere. Took me out for fro-yo, even after I sort of avoided you all day. So, I know you know. I’m guessing my brother told you?” she asks, looking up at him.

“Told me what?” he asks weakly, but he can tell the game is up. “Alright, fine. Yeah, he - he may have mentioned something,” he admits, looking at his shoes.

“And?” Chaeyoung raises her eyebrows. “What did he say?”

Hoseok bites his lip uneasily; her expression is too neutral for him to predict what her reaction will be to his conversation with Chanyeol this morning.

Are you talking to my sister these days?

What? I mean - yeah, I guess. Like, a normal amount? Why - why would you ask if -

Have you talked to her today?

Uh, no. Actually, I texted her this morning but I never heard back.

Yeah, I thought so. She kind of keeps to herself every year around my mom’s birthday. It’s always a hard day for her.

Oh. I’m sorry, man. Are you okay?

Yeah, I’m fine. And so is she, most likely. But if you do happen to talk to her or run into her… I don’t know, just check in on her. If you can. 

“He, uh…” He sighs softly. “He said it’s your mom’s birthday. And that I should check in, if I could.”

Chaeyoung nods. “Well, you didn’t need to do that. But, thank you, anyway.”

There’s something odd about the way she says it, and it takes a moment for Hoseok’s wording to click in his mind. “Wait, that’s not why I’m here.”

She raises her eyebrows. “It’s not? You just… wanted to hang out with me?”

He pauses for a fraction of a second. “Yeah, I did,” he answers honestly. “I’ve been away for almost a month. I was hoping we could hang out in person instead of just on text, like we’ve been doing.”

Chaeyoung stops near her building. The corner of her mouth looks like she’s suppressing a smile, but the moment passes and Hoseok isn’t sure if he imagined it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know if you’d want to talk about it.”

She nods slowly and taps the toe of her shoe into the road, her fingers wrapped around the strap of her gym bag. “I don’t really talk about it.”

“That’s fine,” he says. “You don’t have to. But you can… if you want. Whenever you want,” he adds.

“I don’t talk about it… because I don’t have anything to talk about. I don’t remember her at all,” she says after a moment, and her voice wobbles ever so slightly. “Not even her face. Not her voice. Just a stupid dessert with apricots,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “But I still miss her,” she admits, sniffling.

A pang goes through Hoseok’s heart all the way down to his stomach and he presses his toes into the ground to keep from stepping towards her. “You can talk to Chan,” he suggests gently. “He actually does remember her. I know he wouldn’t mind talking to you about her.”

Chaeyoung bites her lip and sniffs, her face contorting. “My dad doesn’t even remember,” she whispers before her voice breaks, and Hoseok wraps his arms around her in a hug.

Hoseok is a crier; it’s no surprise to anyone who knows him well enough, his tendency to cry at anything remotely emotional. This is different, though, he feels, as he tries to silently blink away his tears at the sound of Chaeyoung’s soft, muffled cries against his shoulder. She isn’t sobbing; in fact, he can barely hear her. But he can feel it, her shoulders shaking, her hair brushing against his collarbone, and her arms coming around his waist.

He wishes he could fix it for her, knowing at the same time that he can’t. It’s beyond him, predates him, and the only thing he feels he has any control over right now is rubbing holding Chaeyoung, rubbing her shoulders and letting her cry for as long as she needs.

As it turns out, it doesn’t last much longer. Chaeyoung sniffles one last time and drops her arms from around his waist, gently pulling away.

“M’kay,” she mumbles, wiping her face on her sleeve and stepping back. “I think I ruined your hoodie, though,” she adds, giving him a watery smile.

“Don’t worry about it.” He brushes his thumb across her cheek, feeling wetness on it, no longer nervous about touching her. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. It’s okay. I look really pretty when I cry. Especially right after.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm.” She nods seriously. “My face gets all flushed and red. Sometimes when I cry and catch my reflection in the mirror, I really think I could be in a music video or something. After whatever crisis I’m going through ends, of course.”

“In a music video? Just crying really prettily?”

“Yeah. So, you know, if you ever need anyone…” She shrugs exaggeratedly.

Hoseok chuckles, his heart feeling so big and so warm. “I’ll keep that in mind. And you’re pretty even when you don’t cry,” he adds, touching her chin.

She sniffs but smiles, a little knowingly, her eyes still a little red. “Thanks, oppa.” She nudges his hand away in mock-annoyance and their hands fall to their sides, fingers loosely interlinked. In the dark street with only street lamps lighting it, her cheeks darken slightly.

“I should go,” he says. 

“Yeah. Me, too.”

He nods. “Say hi to Chan for me.”

Chaeyoung chuckles, looking a little sheepish. “Will do.” After a moment, she licks her lips and Hoseok decides she’s right: she looks radiant. “You can let go of my hand now, oppa,” she adds softly.

Despite the heat that creeps up his neck, he doesn’t feel embarrassed. Slowly dropping her fingers, he nods and steps back. “Goodnight, Chae.”

“Night. Thanks, again.”

“You got it.” He reaches forward and kisses her on the cheek. “Call me if you need anything,” he says, smiling and placing his hands into his pockets.

Chaeyoung nods. “Bye.” She hesitates for a moment but then turns to leave, turning her head every now and then on the way into her apartment building. Hoseok waits until she’s inside, waving at her just as she disappears for the night.

—

Hoseok [12:59] It was Godzilla. I just remembered.

Chaeyoung [13:01] What was Godzilla? Oh wait, yes! How did you remember?

Hoseok [13:03] My first sleepover at your house. I went through my Facebook. Actually, Chan’s Facebook.

Chaeyoung [13:04] You must have gone REALLY far back for that.

Hoseok [13:05] I did. You don’t want to know the horrors I’ve seen. I don’t know why your brother hasn’t deleted any of these old pictures like a normal person.

Chaeyoung [13:06] He’s kind of sentimental that way. Find anything interesting?

Hoseok [13:06] Nothing I’m showing YOU. 

Chaeyoung [13:06] Aww, come on!

Hoseok [13:07] There are enough incriminating pictures of me mid-puberty on the internet.

Chaeyoung [13:07] But those are public! This one will be our little secret, I promise. I’ll only tease you about it privately.

Hoseok [13:08] That doesn’t give me a lot of comfort. And besides, who said this picture is of me?

Chaeyoung [13:09] You did?

Hoseok [13:09] Ha. You can’t even begin to imagine what this picture is of.

Chaeyoung [13:10] … I’m wearing braces in it, aren’t I?

Hoseok [13:10] Actually, yeah. But that’s not what I’m talking about.

Chaeyoung [13:11] Ugh. At least tell me, even if you aren;t going to show it to me.

Hoseok [13:12] I should sleep actually. It’s after 3 in the morning.

Chaeyoung [13:12] Don’t you dare. Oppa!

Hoseok [13:13] Goodnight, kiddo. 

Chaeyoung [13:13] I hate youuuu.

Hoseok [13:14] Lies. Talk to you tomorrow.

Chaeyoung [13:14] You wish.

Chaeyoung [13:17] Goodnight, Hobi. 

—

Something changes after their night of impromptu fro-yo. Talking becomes more frequent, texting becomes like breathing, and goodnights become fonder and more meaningful every day. Chaeyoung finds herself expecting a message from him every time she picks up her phone; when he’s asleep or working or flying, she ends up scrolling through their conversations, feeling involuntary smiles creep onto her face.

She misses Hoseok, she realises eventually, her stomach often churning with the uncertainty and borderline exasperation at herself for feeling ancient, repressed emotions that she thought she’d done away with years ago. Unlike the last time, however, the acts of missing him and thinking about him are coupled with flutters in her stomach, her heart skipping beats and small smiles in the dark - all cemented with the knowledge that this time, he’s missing her, too.

But it won’t do well to be delusional. She’s been down that path before and despite Hoseok’s clearly reciprocated signals, she attempts to keep her speculations at bay. He’s on tour; there’s no telling what it will be like once it’s over and he’s back home. 

Except, she can tell, somewhat. Four hours of a Harry Potter marathon where they laughed at the most unfunny jokes, walking around Seoul on a day they both knew was difficult for her, the endless threads of conversation that filled the void when they were apart - these things mattered. They had to.

Chaeyoung lightly bites the edge of her S-pen as her tablet screen goes dark, a new gift from her father and stepmother. She needs to clean her room soon, she notes, when her eyes fall on the plant sitting at the top of her desk. Hoseok had brought it to her almost hesitantly - after walking in on her half-naked, of course. The memory makes her cheeks go hot and she taps her phone to see the last message he’d sent her, about half an hour ago. 

Are you home?

A blasé yes was all she’d sent, but the wait was starting to render her incapable of concentrating on anything else. He hasn’t responded to her message but it’s no matter; chances are he’s on his way over.

Hardly a minute later, the doorbell rings. Chaeyoung’s heart leaps as she scrambles off the bed, grabbing a pair of track pants from the edge of her bed before pausing. Turning to the full length mirror, she zeroes in on the barely visible strip of shorts visible from under her oversized T-shirt, followed by bare thighs and legs from there on. 

A moment later, she chucks the track pants back onto the bed and skips out of her room, opening the front door.

“Hey,” she says, sounding nonchalant as ever. “What are you doing here?”

Hoseok frowns. “What do you mean? I texted you.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Sorry.”

He narrows his eyes at her, clearly not buying her reaction. Chaeyoung purses her lips together to hide her growing smile when he shakes his head and produces a shopping bag from behind his back about the size of a small laptop.

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” he says, tilting his head and giving her the bag.

Chaeyoung raises her eyebrows. “Wow. Thanks,” she says, frowning, “but is this really why you’re here?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because my birthday was three days ago.”

Hoseok exhales. “Well, three days ago I was in Australia,” he reminds her, “and coming here is the first - no, second thing I’ve done since I landed in Seoul.”

“What was the first?”

“Getting your gift.”

Chaeyoung struggles to suppress her smile and eventually gives up. “Alright, you may enter,” she allows, stepping aside and grinning when he gently flicks her forehead. “What did you get me?”

“I mean, you can open it. But after I leave,” he adds quickly, grabbing her hand as she starts opening the bag.

“What? Why?”

“Just. If you don’t like it, I prefer to not be here when you find out.”

She scoffs as they go into her room. “Shut up, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“Okay, but only the first box.”

“There’s a first box?” Chaeyoung places the bag on her bed and retrieves the item on top, a red box with a lot of fancy design. “Ooh, cupcakes!”

“And not a single one is chocolate,” he says proudly as she opens the box to see three large cupcakes with animated animals painted on them. “This place is great, by the way. Less than twenty-four hours notice but they custom-made it all in time.”

“For J-Hope, I’m sure they did,” she teases, checking a little pink paper inside listing all the ingredients in a loopy font. “Wow, low sugar, gluten-free -“

“And the frosting is yoghurt, not buttercream.”

“… and they all have apricots,” she finishes, biting her lip.

“That’s a coincidence.” But he gives her a bashful smile anyway, which widens when she reaches up and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Do you want to share?” she asks, taking out the first one with the Kung Fu Panda on it in icing. 

“Share? No, they’re for you,” he argues, sitting at the small bay window and waving his hand encouragingly. “Go on.”

“I -“ She hesitates, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “I’ll end up exceeding my calories for the day.”

Hoseok raises his eyebrows. “You’re counting calories? You?” he prods, poking her side playfully. But there’s a note of sternness in his voice.

“Not strictly,” she amends quickly. “Just… they like a certain… aesthetic, at Conde Nast.”

“Aesthetic?”

“Yeah. And they remind you of it if they so much as spot you eating a sandwich at lunch,” she informs him. “Apparently the carbs are not on brand.”

“Who said that to you?” he asks sharply.

“Not to me, to my desk mate. But, come on, you know how it is,” she argues, feeling a little defensive. “You work in entertainment and they don’t let you eat either.”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

Chaeyoung sighs at the impasse and falls silent, staring at the cupcakes. They really do look cute; without warning, her stomach rumbles.

“Hey.” He nudges her leg with his foot. “Come on. I’ll share.”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re on tour,” she reminds him. “Aren’t you on a fifty calorie a day kind of diet?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “I don’t care. It’s your birthday. Kind of.” He gives her a small smile and a wink. “I can indulge. If you will.”

“Are you bribing me?”

“I’m making you a deal. Plus, I really can’t resist apricots now,” he says in a matter-of-fact way. “Come on, caterpillar, it’s melting.”

She grins and nods. “Alright, fine,” she agrees, secretly thrilled, sitting at the other end of the bay window. It’s a small space, just short of being cramped; in the quiet of the night, it’s almost cosy.

They share the cupcake as they talk about nothing and everything in particular. Hoseok’s tiredness and jet lag is apparent; his eyelids look heavy and there are hints of bags under his eyes. Despite that, he’s as chirpy as ever, telling her all about his tour and asking her about everything she’s done during the last month.

“By the way,” she says after a while, once the cupcake is demolished in a surprisingly short amount of time, “did you just call me caterpillar?”

“Did I?” He frowns for a moment before his forehead clears. “Huh. I guess I did.”

“Yeah. You called me that the other night, too, when you were wasted.”

“Wow, really?” He looks deep in thought. “Why? I don’t remember ever calling you that before.”

“Really?” Chaeyoung asks skeptically. “You don’t remember calling me that every single time you ever saw me for all of third grade? You don’t remember,” she continues as he gasps, evidently just recalling, “saying that I reminded you of a caterpillar appearing out of nowhere?”

“Holy shit,” he chuckles. “I actually did forget that. It kind of did feel like that, if I’m being honest.”

“That’s just great,” she mutters, rolling her eyes and turning away, even when he squeezes her knee. “So glad I brought it up.”

“Hey, no. Come on. I swear I wasn’t thinking about that when I called you caterpillar just now,” he promises. “It just felt like a habit. Honest.”

“Mhm,” she hums, saying no more but turning back to face him. Truth be told, she doesn’t need him to defend himself. He may not remember, but she does. Mostly, she remembers his tone when he used to say it, with derision and irritation at once. It was nothing like it is now, full of affection and humour and fondness.

“I was a jerk. Back then.”

“Yeah, but you’re not anymore,” she admits, resting her head on the window by her side. He smiles in relief and something else, and Chaeyoung’s heart skips a beat. “But to make things even, I’m opening your gift.”

“Ooh, you got me,” he says sarcastically as she climbs off and reaches for the bag on her bed. “Just remember, most places were closing down by the time I went out,” he adds, a hint of nervousness in his voice anyway.

“No way, my standards are going to be super high for this gift now.” She reaches in and pulls out an envelope made of card stock, in a very familiar rose gold colour. “What is… oh, my God!”

“What? Ow!” he exclaims unnecessarily when she slaps his shoulder with the envelope.

“You got me a Sephora gift card?”

“Well, yeah… I didn’t want to buy you something and have you whine over it not being the exact variation you wanted,” he explains feebly, hugging her back when she bends and throws her arms around his neck. “You’re pretty fussy about your skincare and make-up.”

“I am,” she agrees happily, sitting back down in her previous spot and gazing at the gift card. “Wow. This is perfect. Really.”

“I’m glad,” he replies, the relief and amusement apparent on his face. “It’s valid for six months so you and Sooah can make a whole day of it, shopping and stuff.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that will happen,” she says, shaking her head. “Shopping isn’t really Sooah’s thing and ever since she and Jimin got back together, I’ve barely seen her.”

“Yeah, well, they’re making up for about five years of being apart,” he reasons. “It’s going to be a couple months of honeymooning before the drama starts again.”

“Looking forward to that. But I’m not waiting until then,” she says, holding up the gift card. “Even if it means I go solo.”

Hoseok is quiet for a moment. “I can go with you.”

She snorts. “To buy make-up and skincare?”

“Yes. I take very good care of my skin - I could be of some help.”

Something warm and fuzzy spreads through Chaeyoung’s chest. “I’m a very slow shopper.”

“Lucky for you, I have four days before I need to travel again. Including a weekend.”

She bites her lip, wishing her heart would calm down. “Alright. It’s your funeral.”

“I have a lot of opinions when it comes to shopping. It’s your funeral.”

Chaeyoung laughs. “I’ll take that risk,” she says, standing up and walking towards her desk. “Someday you’re going to make some girl super lucky, oppa,” she adds, placing the gift card to stand carefully on top of a neat stack of books, in the position of honour. She nods in satisfaction and turns around to see his smile slightly fading. “What?” she asks, watching him carefully for his reaction.

He takes a deep breath as though about to say something, but at the last second shakes his head. “Nothing. I’m glad you like the gift.”

“I love it,” she says honestly, sitting back down. “In fact, I love it so much that I don’t think I can ask you for the other thing I wanted.”

“Which is?”

She grins. “The super incriminating picture you found on Chanyeol’s Facebook? The one we were talking about last week.”

Hoseok laughs and groans. “That is never seeing the light of day.”

“That’s preteen Hoseok talking,” she insists. “Preteen Hoseok would hate it.”

“Oh, he would.”

She smiles and shrugs. “I was going to use my birthday to see it. But you played it really well.”

“Thank God.” He stifles a yawn and rubs his eyes.

“You look exhausted,” she murmurs. “Do you want to sleep here?”

“I… shouldn’t.” He gives her an apologetic sort of smile. “I need to unpack, and everything. You should get to bed, too,” he adds, standing up and running a hand through his hair.

“Okay.” Chaeyoung stands up as well and follows him out of her room, not really expecting him to take her up on her offer. “Thanks for coming, oppa. And for… everything,” she says, once he’s slipped on his shoes and is about to leave.

“You’re welcome.” He turns around and leans against the doorway, giving her a wide smile. “Did you have fun at your birthday dinner, though?”

She shrugs. “Could’ve been more fun. Promise me you’ll make it next time.”

“Uh-huh, absolutely,” he promises, nodding seriously. “Even if I have to take a private jet just for that.”

“Good.” She reaches up the same time that he steps forward and they hug, more comfortably than she once could’ve ever imagined. “Thank you. Really,” she mumbles into his shoulder.

“Of course, caterpillar,” he answers as they pull away, but stay in the same spot.

Chaeyoung feels the same slight skip in her chest at the new-old nickname. She doesn’t know if she’s imagining it, Hoseok’s hesitation in taking a step back, or his eyes flickering towards her mouth.

You’re Chan’s sister. You’re the one girl on earth I can’t mess with.

He’d said that months ago, also during a visit to her room. But she can’t imagine his feelings are the same as they were then. 

His cologne is faint, as though he’d last worn it a while ago, probably before flying out of Australia. The flight from another timezone, mid-tour, after which he’d come home, gone straight to the mall and come over to her place. 

His face is definitely closer now, the slight frown on his forehead surely indicating that there’s something he’s wrestling with. Chaeyoung’s toes curl on the bare floor; deciding to help him out, she tilts her head up and kisses her big brother’s best friend.

Challenge accepted. 

It’s only for a moment; Chaeyoung pulls away immediately but before she can move more than an inch away, Hoseok steps forward and kisses her again, his lips firmly on hers this time.

Chaeyoung’s eyes flutter shut as everything else disappears. It’s just Hoseok, soft lips, gentle movements, his hand in her hair and his lean, slender frame under her palms. He opens his mouth slowly against hers, as though he has all the time in the world, and she sighs silently.

Super lucky.

They break apart after what feels like minutes, or hours or several days. Hoseok doesn’t move his hand or step back, and Chaeyoung looks up uncertainly to see his eyes squeezed shut.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

Chaeyoung tries for a moment, again, to suppress her smile but then gives up. It widens when Hoseok slowly meets her eyes, several emotions on his face that she knows they’ll have to deal with later, but regret nowhere visible.

“Goodnight, Hobi,” she murmurs.

He sighs. “Happy birthday, caterpillar,” he replies softly, tilting his head and pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her cheek. “Sweet dreams.”

It takes him a moment to step away but he does, his face mildly flushed and his cheeks lifted, despite him not exactly smiling. He gives her a small, meaningful wave before turning around and leaving.

Chaeyoung watches him until he leaves her floor before letting herself smile as wide as her heart wants, exhaling hugely and stepping back into her house. Her phone pings as soon as she enters a room, and the screen glows with a notification from Hoseok.

Heart fluttering embarrassingly fast, she clicks on it.

Hoseok [00:24] [photo] Preteen Hoseok was an idiot. Twenty-six year old Hoseok actually kind of likes it.

The picture loads and Chaeyoung tries to swallow the lump in her throat. A screenshot of a Facebook post, old and grainy, like something taken on a digital camera, three kids sat on a sofa in her parents’ house. Chanyeol was on one side and Chaeyoung on the other, and in between them sat Hoseok, scrawny and skinny with a smile like the sun, one arm around each of the siblings.

She was smiling, too, in the picture, extremely widely despite the braces she always hated. There’s surprise and delight and a myriad of other feelings but the one that stands out to her is the one on Hoseok’s face, for once devoid of annoyance around her.

He didn’t hate her. Not always. Not as much as she thought. Lost in a sea of heartfelt nostalgia, her gaze drops to the caption.

Kang Chanyeol: My two favourite idiots in the world!

A seed of doubt settles into her heart. But a moment later she shakes her head, cropping out the caption and saving the picture to her phone. She crawls into bed and shafts Chanyeol to the recesses of her mind, choosing to keep one night to herself where she thinks about nothing but her first real kiss with Jung Hoseok.

—

Thanks for reading. Don’t forget to drop a review :)

#hoseok x oc #hoseok fanfic #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #micdropnet #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #wkcnet #hyunglinenetwork #bts jhope fanfic

[softguarnere]

2 am

Joe Liebgott x reader

A/N: (this is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) This fic idea has been banging around in my head for a solid year now, but for some reason I'm only just now writing it. Oops. The title comes from "2am" by Foals. Thanks for reading, and I hope that you enjoy! Warnings: alcohol, mentions of the Holocaust, language (one f-bomb and that's it)

For the middle of summer, the night air is cool against your warm cheeks when you stumble out of the hotel lobby, arms slung around the necks of your friends as the three of you lean into each other for support and guidance as you make your way to the curb. The three of you are still laughing at some joke that Luz made back inside when the cab pulls up.

“Here you go.” Careful not to lose his grip on you, Luz opens the back door of the cab and guides you towards the back seat.

You really should be getting back to your hotel, but you don’t want this night to end. And who would, after all the fun you’ve been having with your old friends? It’s nice to see them again, to catch up with them, like you’re finally getting to know them without the constant threat of German artillery fire looming over your heads.

“I’ll take the next one,” you protest.

This makes Babe laugh. “Nope. Drunkest person needs to get home first. We gotta make sure you get in the cab before you pass out.”

You fix your old friend with the best intimidating look that you can manage in your current condition. “You drank way more than me, Heffron.”

Babe chuckles. “But I can actually hold my liquor.”

Well, touché. You can’t argue with that one.

“Can you make it home okay?” Luz asks.

“I’ll be fine,” you promise. After all, you’re not nearly as drunk as they seem to think that you are . . . At least, you don’t think you are.

As if he can see your thought process, Luz laughs. “I’ll swing by tomorrow morning to make sure that you’re still alive.”

Your friends close the door of the cab then. Babe taps the glass of the window twice to signal to the driver that you’re ready to go. On cue, the car pulls forward, slowly pulling out of the hotel’s drive. Only when it nears the exit of the parking lot does your driver finally ask his question.

“Where to?” A voice with a familiar raspy quality wants to know.  

The sound is enough to make you freeze, your breath stuck in your throat. Maybe you are drunk. Yes, that must be it – the alcohol making you hear what you want to hear, using some wild manifestation of your subconscious desires. Because you haven’t heard that voice in years. You haven’t seen its owner in just as many. And you certainly didn’t expect to run into him here, of all places.

Your eyes jump to the rear-view mirror. A lump the size of a golf ball appears in your throat. Because even in the faded light of the late summer night, there can be no mistake as to who is staring back at you, waiting expectantly for your answer. Even after all these years, even though you can only see his eyes, you would recognize him anywhere.

“Joe?” Somehow, the words manage to push past the lump in your throat, echoing through the car in the silence that has fallen.

Click-click, click-click. The turn signal methodically keeps time, a metronome as your fellow paratrooper waits for a reply. Though you still haven’t said anything, he takes a right out of the parking lot and eases onto the road.

“Guy behind us was looking impatient,” he says by way of explanation.

It’s Joe Liebgott, you can tell. From the voice, the eyes, the way he tensed when you said his name. Would he have reacted that way if anyone else had said it? Or is it only because of you and the things that happened between the two of you so long ago?

The car is moving and you probably shouldn’t, but you can’t stop yourself from leaning forward, trying to get a better look at him. He’s so close – closer than you ever thought he would be – but he seems unreal and worlds away, like a dream that you can almost, but not quite, reach.

“Is it really you?” You whisper.

Joe sighs, a familiar sound. “Yeah, (Y/N). It’s me.”

“San Fransisco,” you remember aloud, some far away memory of some offhand comment that he once made to someone filtering into your memory. “You always said that you would come back here.”

He only nods. Your heart thuds in your chest. There’s so much to say, to ask, yet it feels like you’re running out of time for it all.

“And now you’re here,” Joe finally says. “With . . . them.”

It takes your brain a second to work out that he means Luz and Babe. Two of the many members of Easy Company who came to the reunion this year. Unlike some people.

“You didn’t come to the reunion.”

“No.” He makes a noise that might be a laugh. “Kind of defeats the purpose when you’re trying to leave the war behind you.”

Leave the war behind you. A slap in the face would have hurt less. Is that why he stopped calling you? Stopped answering your letters? You met during the war, during boot camp, and made it through the whole thing together – from Georgia to the Eagle’s Nest. You had been under the impression that you could make it back to the States . . . Well, at least now you know that Joe had different ideas.

“Then why are you here?” You ask. It’s a fair enough question; Easy Company reunions always generate a lot of attention. Joe happening to be outside of the hotel that was hosting this year’s reunion can’t be a coincidence, can it?

His silence is all the answer that you need.

“You showed up, but you didn’t come inside. Why?” Before he can answer, you add, “And don’t say the thing about leaving it all behind you again. I got that part, okay?”

You can hear Joe’s mouth shut with a click. You hadn’t meant to snap the last part at him. But seeing him here . . . All the anger, the sadness, anything you ever felt about or towards Joe Liebgott that you’ve spent years repressing is now rising to the surface.

“I think you know why,” Joe mutters.

No! You want to snap. No, I don’t understand how you could have left me hanging like that, after all that we went through together, all that we meant to each other.

“I – “ He clears his throat, shakes his head. “I was only hoping to see you. Just . . . I don’t know. I thought that would be enough, if I saw you. I never expected you to get into my cab.”

“And now I’m here.”

“Now you’re here.”

Thankfully the darkness of the night hides your faces from each other. In the solitude it provides, you can feel warmth bubbling and spilling over your eyelids, leaving glossy trails down your cheeks that shimmer gold in the passing streetlights. When it was clear that Joe was done with you, you had decided to leave him and your affections towards him behind. Clearly a part of you never quite let go. That much is clear to you now, as tears escape you without your permission.

Still driving, Joe glances up at the rear-view mirror, catching your eye. Your teary eyes. You can hear the frown in his voice.

“(Y/N)?”

“You left me behind,” you whisper.

For a moment, more silence. Then, “I know. And you know what? It was the stupidest decision that I ever made.”

Yes, it was. For a while, having loved him, having trusted him, felt like the stupidest decision that you ever made. It seems so terribly silly and childish to be sitting behind the man you once loved wholeheartedly – the man who broke your heart – and to wish for nothing more than for the two of you to go back to the way that you once were.

Second times the charm? Or should you follow a policy of “fool me once”?

“I want to go home,” you say. “Can you take me home? Please?”

Joe nods. “Where to?”

You give him the name of the hotel that you’re staying in. The cab fills with the rhythmic click-click, click-click of the blinker as Joe changes lanes, easing the car onto the exit and then navigating onto the quickest route like a master. There are several times when you hear him draw a breath as if to speak, but he never says anything. You keep quiet, allowing him the silence to concentrate on his driving.

Say something! Part of your brain – or is it your heart? – demands. You never expected to see him again, and now the chance is here. The destination is fast approaching, and then what will you do? If only you don’t squander it, this could be your chance to say all the things that have plagued you for years.

The cab slows as Joe sidles up to the hotel. Warm light from the lobby spills out the door and into the back of the cab, beckoning you into its safety. However, something stronger in the front of the cab keeps you firmly in place.

“I can’t sleep alone. Not again.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you’ve even had the chance to register them in your mind.

For the first time since you got into the cab, Joe turns to face you so that you can look at each other head-on. He frowns.

You rush on. “Do you remember Austria? After we liberated that camp, I never thought that I would sleep again. I only got rest because you were willing to flaunt the fraternization policy to come hold me, keep me safe.”

“I remember.”

“I think about that, sometimes,” you admit. You probably shouldn’t have told him that, given him that power over you. But who doesn’t regret the things they say at 2 a.m.?

Joe pushes a sigh, long and hard, through his nose. “Fuck.” He adjusts his position so that he’s leaning further back into the cab, closer to you. Through the darkness, you can see the conflict so clearly on his face, with his wrinkled brow, his frown. It’s so familiar.

“I’m sorry,” Joe says. “I really . . . I was stupid. You deserved better than that. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought that I was sparing you.”

“From what?”

“All my pain. My anger.”

“You don’t think I have that, too?”

Joe blinks, like the thought hadn’t occurred to him. When your boyfriend should have been helping you through those things, you had to rely on your old friends from the company instead. You would have helped him through his struggle, if he had only let you.

Then again, Joe Liebgott always had trouble asking for and admitting when he needed help.

“Park the car, Joe,” you say. “No, not here. In one of the parking spots.”

“Why?” Joe asks, even though he’s already pulling into a parking spot – he gets it perfect on the first try, effortlessly.

“Because,” you say. “You’re done driving for the night. You’re coming up to my hotel room and we’re finally going to talk.”

Joe kills the engine, but he doesn’t move from his seat. For a moment he stares at you, like he isn’t sure if this is real, or if he should. He must make up his mind because he nods, gets out of the car, and comes around to open your door for you. In the old days, he would have smirked at you, given you some pick-up line to hear you laugh. Now, he watches you with reserve.

Maybe this is a mistake. But if either of you really feels that what happened was a mistake, then there’s the possibility that it can be fixed, even after all these years. Not in one night, but it will be a start. Tonight, you can do something for Joe that people so often forget that he needs – show him some understanding, some compassion. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to reignite the light that once existed between you again.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #joe liebgott #joe liebgott x reader #joseph liebgott #joseph liebgott x reader #my writing #hbo war fanfic #hbo war

[jamdoughnutmagician]

A Slice of Life (Waitress AU) part 7-Final Chapter.

Doctor!Steve Harrington x Waitress!Reader

<- Previous part

Word Count:4,279 (sorry it's a long one.)

Authour's Note: Thank you so much to everyone and anyone who read and enjoyed this silly little series 💖 Big love to all of you who supported me as I was writing this! You guys are the absolute best.

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist // Steve Harrington Masterlist

Dear Baby, somewhere in the space in-between the pie baking, and Billy eating it later that night began the most open and honest conversation I’d ever had with anyone over the phone. I’d spend whatever little time I could squirrel away from Billy talking to Steve. Talking to him about my mom and how much she loved me, about how sad she would have been to see my life turn out the way that it has, about Billy and how much he’d changed after we got married, how he became someone I feared. About how lonely it can be to be a woman so poor and afraid all the time. Talking to Steve so openly and honestly gave me the breathing space I needed. To clear my head and lift the burden from my chest, to say things to someone and have them matter for once. 

You sat comfortably in Steve’s lap, your bump rounding out between your bodies as he reclined back in his office’s chair, it was the one place you two could be together, a quiet safe haven from the rest of the world.

His large hand runs a gentle, caressing touch on your exposed thigh, the skirt of your dress having shifted the moment you sat down in his lap. 

You tangle your fingers in the lengths of shaggy hairs that curl around his neck, absent-mindedly twirling the soft strands between your fingers.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Steve Harrington.” you smile.

And it was true, you’d been with Billy for longer than you’d been without him, and in that time he’d never been as gentle to you as how Steve treated you. With Billy you often felt as though he walked around with you slung under his arm as if you were some kind of trophy to be shown off, as if you were the prize, and he was the winner.

“I have a little something for you. A present.” Steve says, almost a little shyly.

“I love ‘little somethings’. What did you get me?” you beam excitedly. “Wait, I hope this isn’t some kind of thing where you say it’s a present for me, but really it’s a present for the baby.” 

“No, no, this is just for you, I promise.” he says with a reassuring smile as he hands you over your present. “I’m sorry I didn’t really have time to wrap it any better than this.”

It’s a beautifully decorative ceramic pie dish. It’s soft yellow, with a white inside and small hand-painted wild flowers.  Affectionately tacked onto the dish is a pink gift-wrap bow and a gift tag, and as you turn over the gift tag, there in scrawly doctor’s handwriting is a little message, ‘for my favourite baker.’

He watches you as you turn the dish over in your hands, unable to stop the wide spread of your smile from taking over your face.

“I saw it in the market downtown and it made me think of you, thought you’d like it.”

“Steve, I love it. It’s the most beautiful pie dish I’ve ever seen.” You smile, but your smile falters for a quick second, your eyes suddenly looking sad.. “Steve, I can’t accept this, I can’t buy you anything back.” 

“I don’t want you to buy me anything, it’s a gift. From me to you.”

“Why did you get this for me, Steve?”

“Because I find myself absolutely falling head over heels for you..” he says with every ounce of sincerity in his voice.

If he was about to say anything else you’d never hear it because you immediately press your lips against his in a desperately feverish kiss. Holding his face in your hands as you lean in close  

You’re cleaning up the tables as the last few straggling customers push their way out of the diner’s door, collecting glasses and empty plates on a tray.

As you round your way across the diner’s floor you come over to the one table that still has someone sitting there, although it is Joyce’s diner, so she’s more than welcome to sit at her table for as long as she so wishes.

“Been another busy day today, huh?” she smiles as she downs the last few sips of coffee from her mug.

“Yeah, but we can’t complain now can we? Being busy is good for business, that’s what you always say, isn’t it Joyce.”

“That’s right my dear.” she smiles warmly at you. “Seems like only yesterday that I was buying this old, run-down shack of a diner. I’d been young and stupid, a single mom with two young kids, but I had big dreams of turning this place into something good. Something that people from all over the world would come to visit.”

You offer her a kind nod of your head as you listen to her.

“..And with Jonathan living three states away in New York and Will getting accepted at a college in Manhattan there’s very little that’s keeping me here these days. I’m leaving town at the end of the month. You’re actually the first person outside of my family that I’ve told.”

“Joyce, you can’t just up and leave this place! You’ve worked so hard to see it flourish, you can’t go now!”

She smiles, looking down at the discarded napkin on her table, before turning back to look at you.

“You remind me a lot of my younger self,” Joyce begins, totally ignoring your previous concerns about her leaving the diner. “Totally afraid of what’s about to come, but ready to tackle things head-on, whatever they may be. You don’t even know what you’re capable of, sweetheart, you’re not just some little waitress, you’re a lot stronger and wiser than you give yourself credit for, you understand me?”

“Uh, I think so, Joyce.” you fumble quietly.

“In my lifetime I've made so many mistakes, turned the wrong corner, followed the wrong signs, but this life is giving you the chance to make the right choice, don’t let this opportunity pass you by. It’s never too late to start fresh.”

“I don’t have enough money, Joyce. Starting fresh is a luxury that I could only dream of. I’m about to have a baby, that’s certainly going to make starting fresh a whole lot harder.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know you are. I was just dreaming a little for you, that’s all.”

 You smile at Joyce and her kind words, as a comfortable silence falls between the both of you. Until the easy quietness is broken by the sound of a car’s revving engine screeching to a stop outside the diner and the quick pounding footsteps of heavy boots crunching on the gravel outside. The diner’s door flings open and in storms Billy, and as if his thundering presence wasn’t enough he snatches an empty glass off a nearby table before throwing it to the ground, the glass shattering with a tense crash.

“Y/n, I’m very upset with you. I’ll be waiting for you in the car, and I don’t like to be kept waiting, you understand?” he shouts, his gruff voice rumbling with anger. He makes his point by slamming the door behind him with a loud smack.

“You weren’t kidding. Your husband really is terrible.” Joyce scoffs, breaking the uncomfortable tension in the air.

You hug your arms around Joyce.

“Thank you, Joyce. I have to go.” you sigh, clinging to her a little tighter wishing you didn’t have to go. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay, I promise.” You reassure her, although there was a beat of silence between both of you where you weren’t quite sure if she really believed your words. You weren’t even wholly convinced you believed them yourself.

You nervously slip into the passenger seat of Billy’s camaro, gently closing the door beside you.

“Billy..” you start.

“-No! You don’t say anything. You don’t say one word to me. Not a single word, you just sit there and I’ll deal with you when we get home.” he cuts you off with a stern edge to his gruff voice.

You shrink in on yourself, wringing your hands in your lap as Billy looks over his shoulder to reverse out of the parking lot and begins speeding his way down the road.

His rough hands grip your arm as he hauls you through the front door, dragging you towards the kitchen.

“Billy stop it! You’re hurting me!!”

“Quit your whining.”

In the kitchen he cages you between his body and the countertops, reaching above you to fling open the cabinet doors where you keep all your baking supplies.

As he does the money that you had been stashing away, hiding from him, for months flutters out from behind the plates and dishes.

“What the fuck is that, huh?!” He shouts, glaring at you as he invades your space.

“M-money.” you mumble quietly, tears beginning to bubble in your lash line.

“Yeah, and it’s hidden all over the fuckin’ house too!” he fumes. “Hidden away in cabinets, in drawers, in closets. Money hidden all over MY house!

“I’m sorry.” you snivel, the tense fear burning in your chest. Months of secretly stashing away little bits here and there, saving up enough money to finally get the chance to get away from Billy, and suddenly it’s all but ripped from underneath you in a matter of moments.

“You’re hiding all this money from me? After everything I’ve done for you.”

Billy’s anger turns to almost frustrated sobs as he falls to his knees in front of you, pressing his face into your pregnant belly as he clings to your dress. It shocks you that this is the moment he lays his lips against the curve of your belly, kissing your bump over the scratchy material of your waitressing dress. For months Billy never as much as looked in your direction when you started showing, never once displaying an ounce of interest or love towards the life growing inside you.

“You’re the only thing I ever loved, Baby. You’re the only person to ever belong to me.” he cries as he hangs onto you, his deep voice wavering with emotions. You wished that you could say that you believe his performative upset, but you knew that it was nothing more than that, a performance. A sweeping display of his masculinity and insecurities.

 “I hate that you were keeping secrets from me. Why were you hiding money all over the house?” he bubbles out from where he’s still on his knees, clinging to you pathetically. “Tell me you were going to surprise me and buy me a present or something. That’s why you were hiding money from me.”

The tears flow down your cheeks, leaving the dark smudge of mascara to gather in your lashes. It takes every last ounce of energy you have to just lie to him about the money.

“Yeah, I-I was gonna use it to buy you a present.” 

He cries against your body, still holding on to you. 

“Just hold me.” he snivels 

You oblige him, rounding your arms around Billy’s shuddering frame, because what else could you do? You knew that this whole display of emotions from him was just a way for him to make you feel guilty about wanting a better life for yourself, for wanting something more than this.

You shudder out a shaky breath of your own, steadying your voice before speaking once more.

“Truth is Billy, I was saving that money for the baby.” you tell him, and at that his face comes out from being buried against your belly, his tear-rimmed, piercing blue eyes looking at you as you continue to speak. “I was going to use it to buy a crib, toys, cute little baby clothes and blankets. It’s all the money I saved up for the baby.”

You watch your husband's shoulders physically slump down with relief, that seemed to calm him down enough.

Finally he rises from his knees, and holds your face in his rough hands, kissing you like he needs it for reassurance.

“I want us to be happy together darlin’"

Dear Baby, if you want to know how we afforded your crib, I’ll tell you. Your crib was bought with the money that was supposed to buy me a new life. Every time I’m going to lay you down in that crib at night I’m going to look at you lying there and think about how close I was to getting free of this life, about how I'm stuck like a damn pin in this damn life.

You stand in your front yard, watching on as the delivery men shift the crib in its box into your house.

Billy saunters his way over to you, thumbing through the handful of notes he had in his hands.

“Guess we got a good deal on this crib, Sugar. I’ve got enough money left that I can buy us a video camera, could get a couple of shots of you looking all big and pregnant, film the birth and the baby.” Then his voice drops to a husky whisper as he leans in close to your ear “and maybe once you’ve got your figure back and all, we could make a few naughty home videos,if you know what I mean.” he winks at you salaciously and you nod your head as if it’s all you can do to stop the shudder that thought sends down your spine.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Billy” you grimace with a fake smile.

Steve, slides the blood-press cuff up your arm and begins to squeeze the pump, tightening the material around your arm, and as you sit against the rough paper-lined bed in the doctor’s room, you desperately wish away the gnawing pit of sadness sitting deep within you.

“I wish that we could have met under different circumstances.” you tell him.

“Me too.” Steve says softly. “I would go anywhere with you. I’d drop everything in a heartbeat if it meant I could spend my time with you.”

“I just want something in my life to go the way I want it to for once.”

 Steve sees you out the door to his doctor’s surgery, his hand placed comfortably on your lower back as he ushers you down the small few steps outside the door. The things you used to take for granted, things you used to find easy; like walking, became extremely tiring as you neared your due date. Your belly was rounding out in front of you quite considerably, enough to make your gait resemble that of a waddling penguin. 

You stop for a moment on the final step to catch your breath and that’s when you feel it. The wet gush that soaks your underwear and slowly drips down your legs from underneath the skirt of your dress.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Steve asks you, his eyebrows knitting together in concern as you stand stock-still next to him.

“Dr. Harrington, I do believe my water just broke.”

You’re sitting back in the hospital bed, droplets of sweat beading on your furrowed brows as another contraction works its way through your body. Your breaths come out as uneven shudders as the dull pain in your back throbs uncomfortably.

Steve was beside you, holding your hand through it, helping you through the pain but he quickly lets your hand fall from his when a tall, curly-haired blonde man comes sauntering into your birthing room.

“Hey, Sweetcheeks.”

“Dr. Harrington, this is my husband, Billy.” you manage to huff out as the tail end of your contraction eases off.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Hargrove.” Steve stands up to shake Billy’s hand, as the two exchange pleasantries.

“Excuse me Doc, but could you get up out of that seat so I can sit next to my wife?” he grumbles out.

Steve is immediately muttering out his apologies, as Billy takes his seat and immediately leans in close to kiss you. As he leans in, there’s a faint smell of alcohol on him, not that he was drunk, you’ve seen Billy when he was drunk, this wasn’t that. He’d probably had a few sly drinks at that bar just around the block from the car dealership where he works.

“I would’ve bought you a bunch of  flowers or something, but I got held up at work. You know what the boss is like, always bustin’ my ass for something or other.” He lies. You know where he’s been, and it’s not the fact that he’s drinking when he should be working, it’s just how easy the lie falls from his lips.

“Oh, that’s fine Billy, I don’t need anything.” you brush him off, wincing as another contraction pulses through you.

Steve interrupts your less-than-happy moment with Billy to offer some doctorly advice.

“Y/n, I’m going to need you to get as much rest as you can, you’ve got a big moment coming up soon, I’ll leave you two to your privacy.” as he turns his back to give you space. In another world Steve would be the one to hold your hand and support you through your birth, to wipe your brow and kiss your cheeks, telling you that everything is going to be fine. But with Billy here, already glaring at him from your bedside, he’s in no position to want any of these things, no matter how desperately his heart wishes.

“Oh, Dr. Harrington..” you call out to him just as he’s about to leave.

“Yes?”

“I just want to make sure we’re clear on one thing.”  he gives you a nod of his head for you to continue. “I want drugs. I want massive amounts of drugs. I want the maximum legal limit of drugs.”

Steve smiles that adorably cheeky smile of his.

“Absolutely, don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get the good stuff.” he chuckles before turning towards the door. As he opens the door for himself, in walks Joyce, with a kind smile on her face as she makes her way to you.

“Joyce! I thought you were going to be leaving for New York?”

“I wasn’t about to leave without saying goodbye to my favourite waitress, now was I? Nancy told me you were having your baby, so I thought I’d drop by and give you this card.” she says, handing you over a small white envelope. “It’s just a silly card from me, you should probably open it later, when all the fuss is over.” she says, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug.

“Thank you, Joyce, for everything, I mean.” you mutter in her ear, holding on a little tighter before she pulls away.

“You’re going to do great things, Y/n. I know you will.” and with that she leaves you with Billy by your side to grit your teeth through another sharp-shooting contraction.

Your breathing gets harder as your contractions get shorter and sharper, and you try your best to ignore Billy pushing the video camera in your face in his best attempts to capture ‘the wonders of childbirth’ as he had called it.

The sweet older nurse who had administered your epidural pulls Steve aside. 

“She’s fully dilated, it’s time for her to start pushing.” she tells him.

Steve looks over to you kindly, laying a hand on your shoulder.

“Okay, Y/n, you heard her. Now’s your time to shine.”

“Keep going Y/n! You’re almost there!” Steve encourages as he helps to deliver your baby.

“You’re squeezing my hand a bit tight there, Darlin’” Billy winces from beside you, as you grit your teeth through the labour.

You can’t help but glare at him at this moment, the droplets of sweat beading on your furrowed brow.

“Keep pushing! One more big push and baby's going to be here!” 

You bear down in your hospital bed as much as you can squeezing as hard you can, clenching muscles you never even knew you had.

“One! Two! Three!” Steve cheers and the room is suddenly filled with the tiny cries of your baby. “It’s a girl!”

“Well how about that, a baby girl.” Billy says with a gentle scoff.

“Would you like to cut the cord, Mr. Hargrove?” 

“Sure, why not?” he nods, as though he couldn’t be less interested if he tried. Fucker.

“Mrs. Hargrove, would you like to hold your daughter?” asks the nurse from beside you, where she’s holding your softly crying baby girl.

All kinds of nerves and emotions and emotions bubble up inside you, and despite it all you nod your head.

“Yes please.”

The nurse hands over the pink bundle of blankets and suddenly you're looking face to face with the most beautiful little baby girl. Her soft cries quieten immediately as soon as she’s in your arms. Her beautiful eyes are wide and curious, sparkling with life, as she looks back at you.

“Hi baby,” you smile down at her lovingly.

Suddenly with her in your arms it all clicks into place. It all just felt right to finally have your little girl softly snuggled against your chest. Everything else around fades into the background and it’s just you and her in this world together.

“Remember what I said now, don’t you?” Billy comes into your view, leaning close to your side. “You promised me that you weren’t going to love this baby more than you loved me, you remember that?” he chuckles with a light but sneering, callous undertone.

“I don’t love you, Billy.” You tell him honestly. “I haven’t loved you for years. I want a divorce.”

Billy laughs uncomfortably.

“I want you the hell out of my life, I never want you to lay so much as a finger on me ever again, I am done with you.”

“What the fuck did you just say to me? Huh, you think you’re so brave all of a sudden, is that what this is, huh?” but all of Billy’s confrontational shouting falls on deaf ears with you as Steve grabs him by the shoulders, tussling with him slightly before marching him out the delivery room. 

You smile down at the little bundle softly sleeping in your arms, proudly. 

“Hazel. That’s your name, Little baby Hazel.” 

 “Honey, you gotta wake up.” Robin nudges your shoulder, gently rousing you from your sleep.  “We’ve got to get you and your little girl up and out of here.”

“Billy’s refusing to pay, so they’re kicking you out.” Nancy says with a sorry face.

“But I can’t go home, not when Billy is still there..” you worry

“So that’s why you’re going to come live with me for a little while.” Nancy interrupts you before you can worry any further. “Take all the time you need to get back on your feet, me and Robin will be here for you and little Hazel every step of the way.” 

“Speaking of which, where is she? I need to meet my new baby niece.” Robin says already rushing over to where Hazel lay in her hospital cot in your room. “Oh darling, she is so beautiful.”

“Well, she definitely got her good looks from her mother, that’s for sure.” Nancy joins in with a laugh, cooing over Hazel who had been fast asleep through all the commotion.

You leave the two girls to bubble over who’s going to be Hazel’s new favourite aunt, and all the things that they’re going to teach her, as you reach for the white envelope on your side table. The one that Joyce had left for you. 

‘To, Y/N, my favourite waitress, the best baker and a kind friend. For a fresh start. Love, Joyce.’

Upon opening the card, a small piece of folded up paper flutters out. You unfold it and it’s what’s written on the piece of paper that has you choking back a shocked gasp.

It’s a check for $2000,000 addressed to you, along with a message written inside the card.

“You’re a smart girl, I know you’ll look after this place better than anyone. The diner is yours, now go do wonderful things, Darling.”

It’s a few years down the line, and Hazel is bouncing happily in her high-chair seat in the colourful diner, gurgling with a smile around a soft mouthful of mashed banana, as you lay out the array of pies for the day’s customers. 

Your award for winning first place at the county fair’s bake off proudly displayed on the wall behind you.

The diner is bustling with life, with more customers than ever before.

Laying down the final dish of Coconut Clouds Pie a familiar mess of shaggy hair and soft brown eyes comes up and wraps his strong arms around you, kissing your cheek and picking you up and twirling you around before setting you back down on your feet.

“I love you, Y/n. I truly do, and I’m so proud of everything you achieved. I count myself as lucky to have someone as wonderful as you in my life. There’s not a day that I'm with you that I take for granted.” Steve mutters as he kisses your lips, gently cupping your face in his hands. “I want you in my life always, you and Hazel, I mean it.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, Doctor Harrington.” you smile teasingly leaning in to kiss him once more.

And you meant it. Life with Steve and little Hazel was everything that you had ever wanted. You had never felt more safe, secure and loved than in the arms of Steve Harrington. Your own perfectly happy little slice of life.

@keerygal @penguinsandpotterheads @mrsjellymunson @paybacksawitch @seatnights @ali-r3n

#Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x female reader #Steve Harrington x Female Reader fluff #Steve Harrington x reader fluff #Steve Harrington fluff #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington x Reader fanfic

[dreamwritersworld]

Once innocent. Part 5. (Sully family x reader)

Hi! Just a reminder that this is a mini series to show the deeper sides of Y/n’s life BEFORE “The chore” :) 💕

“Tuk! No!” I rush in to protect her from the glass. Everything felt so slow, all I saw was Tuk, I’ll take any hit if it meant keeping her safe. But then it all went black.

*y/n ‘dream’*

“Y/n?” I open my eyes “Rey’akana? (Rubbing my eyes to get a better look) Rey’akana! W-where have you been? I missed you.” He embraces my hug and shares my emotions. I began sobbing in his arms unable to hold in any of my emotions “I’m so-….I’m so stupid, I-I don’t know what to do.” He gave me his safe sad look “Oh I know that feeling, you know I was making it all up as I went along right? You kept me going. You wanna tell me about what you’re up against?” I look down at my tiny hands, playing with them. (Rey’akana sees Y/n only in her kid body, not her teenage body!)

“It’s dad. He doesn’t think I can take care of Tuk. He’s going to take her away. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way I-I- I didn’t mean for it to go this way. I just- I’m so attached to her, I love her. She’s everything to me, she’s my light and he knows it. He’s completely fine in taking it away. I can’t keep fighting him anymore, it’s not easy. I can’t go back to him anymore. Maybe he was right, I was a distraction I get people killed.” Rey’akana looks at her with the most shocked and angered face, soon calming down realizing he should try a different approach. Exhaling a sigh

“Oh sunshine, you know you always get like this after arguing with him, after something big. Remember when you argued with him over you hitting that girl for saying something mean?” I shake my head “yea but that’s different, I was alone. Now I have Tuk. I’ve realized that…I can’t just keep fighting him, he’s only going to push her away”

he takes a moment and looks back out to the forest “…it’s harder when you have something to lose. But having her, people you care about? That’s a good thing. She’s fighting beside you. Because of you.” I nod my head agreeing. he laughed and said “To think when I did your hair or taught you survival, I was just following memories from 20 years back. But you…You have a gift of surviving, you’ve kept Tuk strong. She looks up to you. You’re a leader Y/n, a natural. You’ll have the power of a clan one day.“

I smiled and look up at him “thank you Rey’akana, talking to you just always makes me feel a little bit better.” He gives a sigh of relief “you know you didn’t distract me right sunshine? I made it clear that I’d protect you. If anything, you gave me motivation to keep fighting in wars. Eywa sent you the same gift she gave me. A sweet innocent child. A ray of sunshine. Tuk is your gift. But something tells me Eywa is sending you more. A real chance at life. For you and Tuk. You just need to remain patient. Remember your job Y/n, you made a promise. When you return to Tuk, you tell her all the things you need her to do, give her a simple push to keep going with you. You don’t think it hurt her the same way when she heard her father yelling at the one thing she holds sacred? That girl looks at you as if you were the only one there. You look at her like she’s the only person you’ve ever known. She see’s it. So when you go back to her Pick it up, and start again. You’ve got a second chance. You could go home. Ignore him, it’s just irrelevant. I’ll only be able to come back once it’s all over Y/n. When you need me again, I’ll be here watching you, holding you while you sleep. You could still be what you want to, what you said you were when I met you. You’ve got a warm heart and beautiful brain, don’t let him take it away.” I grasp onto him more trying to hold onto our little time left, before he goes but I can’t wait to see him again. Please no.

“I’m not ready to go without you again, please.” He sighs and hold me tighter before saying “A guardian who has not prepared their ‘child’ for their own death has failed as a guardian. I prepared you. You’ve been doing good, just need to come back down. You have prepared Tuk, I’ve seen you…but it’s not your time. Come see me again, when you’re really fine and got both of you out ok? Out and safe.” I cry into his arms again “Ok, oel ngati kameie Rey’akana” he smiles and says “Oel ngati kameie, Sunshine” *

I let out a long gasp as I come into reality. “Y/N! Oh Y/n, I’m so happy your ok! Let me get grandmother!” She rushes out after a quick hug and barley gives me the chance to say anything. I wait patiently, preparing what I’m going to say, to Tuk, to father. “Y/n…how are you? Are you ok? I’m so sorry that happened my child. You were out for awhile, but you seem to be as good as you could be in this situation.” Grandmother cleans and checks me up. “Your mother and father are on their way. Sit tight.” She leaves, with a sympathetic smile on her face. She doesn’t know what happened but she knows it wasn’t right. None of the treatment Y/n received was right. But what could she do? It’s her daughters child. If she betrays her daughter, she betrays herself….

“Sunshine, come here, in my arms ok?” Tuk looks hesitant, almost as if she’s scared to hurt me. “…a-are you sure? You’re still-“ Y/n cuts her off with a laugh “I don’t care sunshine, I just want to hold you and talk for a minute. Before they come ok?” Tuk complies and goes to sit in my arms. “This is just what happens sometimes-“ Tuk shakes her head and says “But it wasn’t supposed to happen to you!” I sigh taking in her frustration, it’s valid for her, she wanted to take the hit just as much as I did, but she’s just a kid.

“My sunshine, You’ll always be sunshine to me. Look at me…You’re so perfect, how did I get so lucky?”

She looks at me with tears in her eyes still remembering the fear she felt when she tried to save her sister in the room. How she thought she lost her. “Please. Don’t be silly right now. Not right now. Please. Stop. Just stop. I thought I lost you, I thought I’d never see your sweet face again.” I sigh and close my eyes preparing my speech.

I need this confirmation. I need her to know even if she was scared, she could live without me. I need to know that she won’t give up. So I’ll talk like it’s my last breath. To make sure it’s heard. “I have a job for you. If and when the time comes for me, I need you to get back home. I need you to sleep in your own hammock, and have friends, and grow tall. Taller than I ever was I hope. I need you to live Tuk. That’s your job now. I need to hear you say it” she looks down, crying before looking up at me securing her promise “Ok Y/n that’s my job now” I hold her for the meanwhile while she sleeps, I begin picking glass out of her hair.

“Y/n? Oh thank Eywa you are ok.” Mother rushes in and hugs me. This is uh…new? I just TRY to accept the hug. Father walks in soon after. “Y/n, sorry. I never meant to hit you with the glass.” He didn’t hit me, but he wanted to hit near me. “Let me make this clear. I do not care what you felt you had to do. Or what your intentions were. You are wrong. And I am allowed to be as mad as I can be about it. I do not want to hear your excuses. We both know that the way you hit, how hard it was, the aggravation, next time your intentions are going to be worse and we both know that. I’m not gonna pick glass out of Tuk’s hair again, it’s just not gonna happen. I will be allowed to see Tuk. You OWE me that.” He still gives me that silently frustrated look. He can keep it. All I need is Tuk. I carry her quietly as I walk out to go home so I can pick more glass out of her hair. Eywa only knows what she felt and saw when I was hit.

*Tuk’s Dream*

He’s yelling at her again. This time, he’s too mean. He’s always mean to her. I was listening to them argue until I heard him say “You will not watch Tuk anymore.” What?! No no no please. I run to get mom to help me stop the argument. Then I run back back to go inside and stop it. As soon as I walked in dad threw a glass handle, headed right to me but it was obviously not intended for me…but for my sister. My mind didn’t process how fast it was, I could just hear her voice

“Tuk! No!” It hit her so bad, she fell to the floor with glass cut into her face. “Y/n? Y/n?” No, no not like this. I whistle out to her crying in between, praying to Eywa to have her whistle back to me. Let me know she’s ok.

“No! No! What have you done! Mom help! No Y/n! You’re gonna be fine, your gonna be ok. Not my sister, please not my sister.” Mom rushes in “Jake, carry her NOW. We have to take her to my mother.” I run as I follow them, yelling out to Y/n in hopes she’ll wake up and hear me. “Y/n! You’re going to be ok! I’m right here!” Then we made it to grandmother’s and she got to work quick.

I turn to dad ready to speak my mind. Like I was taught. “Y/n is hurt because of you. I don’t know why you get so mad at her. But it is not an excuse for you to hurt her. She will never be good enough for you will she?…no matter how hard she tries. She’ll never be strong enough…she’ll never be perfect enough…Y/n stopped trying with you because you only saw the worst in her. She loves this family. You’re the one that doesn’t care. You’re the one who’s…reckless! She could die because of you.” I was mad. I will not hide it in order to make him feel comfortable. I hold zero mercy for someone who clearly didn’t care. I walk away towards Y/n, ignoring him calling my name. Ignoring him give me his sad voice and pleads. My heart is still racing. It hurts. She’s alive but, nothing will bring me comfort knowing that she’s not sleeping willingly. She can’t wake up. She’s just stuck in transit right now. *

She wakes up scared, screaming my name. “Tuk? It’s ok, it’s ok I’m right here. Don’t worry I’m not leaving you. I’ll protect you. I’m here sunshine.” She sobs into my arms “I can’t sleep. Let me sleep with you. Please.” “I’ll never deny you sunshine, let’s just clean up first. We’re dirty right now. Once we’re done we can sleep.” So we did just that and as we are laying down tuk decides to ask a question “c-can you sing me to sleep? Like when I was a baby…I’m just too distracted right now.” I give a small laugh and agree. We haven’t done this in so long, I missed it. She’s getting so big.

“Moonbeams and starlight, magical twilight

The warmest ray, hear it whispering your name

Rainbows at midnight, sparking night skies

Don’t go away, stay another day.”

I can feel her peacefully sleep and soon I follow her….

💕!

I tried making this my last part, but I just can’t rush it. I want more sister moments, more ********* moments. Can’t give too much away 🤭 Hopefully Y/n and Tuk can catch a break soon. 💔

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype

@zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll

@abbersreads @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro

@elegantkidfansoul @goodiesinthecloset21

@nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @octavias-next-meat-bite @midnightliacr @waitingforanotherpart @marybrown23 @ssc7514 @destinylb @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @lv9su @im-in-a-pansexual-panik

#jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #sully family x reader #loak x reader #angst #neteyam sully #sully family x daughter reader #neytiri sully #avatar loak #avatar the way of water

[soleilnomoon]

Hello! May I get some strawberries and possibly some mango with a mai tai (Kidd) and songs 3,4 and 16 from the playlist please! Thank you so much!

hihi  ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡ i love writing for kidd, he’s so ridiculous all day every day. ty for requesting & i hope you have fun reading 💛💕

1k words (it wasn’t my fault), gn reader (no pronouns), nsfw, 18+ mdni; fluff (it’s there somewhere) & smut; feat. kidd & reader in denial bc that’s how i live my life, a lil fwb except is that all there is~, alcohol, kidd being dumb & that’s how reader likes him (tbh me too), rough sex (does kidd even know the definition of gentle? no?), kitchen sex, choking, a lil bit of a hand job, idk no real warnings except eustass kidd deserves his own warning bc *motions to him* have u seen that man in action (if u see spelling errors/grammar mistakes no u didn't 💕)

it’s not goodbye, you remind yourself for the fourth time that night, throat suddenly dry at the thought. the ice in your cup melted a while ago, so you toss the watered-down drink onto the sand before standing up. when eustass kidd insisted on throwing a party, you didn’t think much of it; how quickly you forget that pirates are notorious for their theatrics and kidd isn’t immune to that behavior.

a large bonfire blazes in the middle of the beach, the air warm and sticky; you hate how humid it is and hate that you let the others talk you into drinking. now your hair is tied up, to keep its thickness away from your neck and face, as sweat glides down your skin. without looking back, you leave everyone behind and make the short trek back to your house. you’re determined to shower and call it a night; you doubt your presence will be missed that much.

after downing another shot of tequila, a frown works its way onto kidd’s lips as he stares at the empty shot glass in his hand. he’d meant to just have a few drinks, but he got roped into game after game by his crew mates and he lost track of time.

now you’re gone.

it’s a sobering enough thought that he shoves the glass into wire’s hand, not bothering to explain himself as he goes searching for you. he doesn’t like that you left the party early, and he doesn’t like that he’s a little bit miserable because you’re not with him right now.

it’s foolish to feel that way and equally foolish to want to do something about it. he knows that, but it’s not enough to make him turn back around.

when he finds your backdoor unlocked — a nasty habit that he can’t believe you refuse to correct — a small wave of irritation surrounds him. you didn’t bother locking the door because you knew he’d eventually make his way over — you assumed it would be much later, but kidd is always unpredictable.

and because he’s incapable of stealth when he’s annoyed, you hear him rummaging through your kitchen. you stand in the doorway, hands on your hips as you watch him eat several pastries in a row.

the man’s stomach is an abyss, you’re quite sure of it now.

“there are plates, y’know,” you say lightly, a teasing smile sliding onto your face with ease, “and napkins too.” since it’s obvious kidd has no home training whatsoever. he doesn’t see what the fuss is, but he knows it drives you crazy when he does that — which is possibly why he keeps doing it.

“didn’t feel like using them.”

his answer should annoy you, but it doesn’t; if anything, it just makes you smile again, a little sadly this time. it doesn’t go unnoticed by kidd, however, who narrows his eyes at you.

“why do you keep leaving that door unlocked?”

you blink a few times, confusion briefly taking hold of you before you realize he’s serious. “you ask me that all the time,” you counter and walk over to him, voice airy as you decidedly stuff the rest of your complicated feelings for him into a tiny box. “and what do i always say?” you place your hands on his chest — soft and gentle, which only annoys him even more.

because you like to do that — touch him like you care, like you enjoy his presence. his mind likes to play tricks on him, so he refuses to believe it; except it’s hard to tell the truth from fiction when he leans down to kiss you. all those pesky, bothersome thoughts coast to the back of his mind when you lick a bit of powdered sugar from his lips.

when he kisses you again, a different kind of heat passes through you, making you press closer, practically melting against him when his tongue caresses yours. it’s in between sloppy tongue kisses that he asks you to come with him — the decision is rash, and he hasn’t thought it through all the way, but the idea of you staying behind only pisses him off.

your heart beats a little too loudly at the prospect of leaving home and going off with him, but your answer is lodged in your throat, unable to come out no matter how badly you want to tell him yes.

he knows how deep your stubbornness goes, so naturally he’s just going to have to help you make the right decision. when he hoists you onto the counter, you unzip his pants with hurried movements and kidd groans softly as you start stroking him. you like the luxury of having your own place, but you know you’ll be lonely when kidd leaves — more unpleasant feelings that you can’t seem to keep hidden.

you wrap your legs around him as he inches his cock inside of you — slowly, at first, before he pulls back and snaps his hips forward, thrusting roughly. your lips are on his again, fingers sifting through his hair as he fucks you harder.

“come with me,” he insists again and again, you shake your head and keep your lips pressed together because you know you’re so close to saying otherwise. he clicks his tongue and he grabs your throat so you can look at him. “why?”

you wish he’d let this go — but a small, much more selfish part of you is glad he’s pressing the issue. “because…” you gasp and moan when he squeezes your neck as he gives you short, brutal strokes. kidd’s stamina is unrivaled; he fucks you like he’s trying to break the counter, nearly forgetting himself and his brute strength. he eases up a bit and releases his hold, but you’re panting when you speak again.

“w-what if you get tired of me?” your voice is quiet, but he hears you perfectly clear.

kidd rolls his eyes before tugging on your earlobe with his teeth. “is that all?” a ridiculous fear, but he can’t really judge you, now, can he? kidd fixes you with a pointed look, one that says be serious. he almost admits that he could never be tired of you, not even if he tried.

you want to tell him that you’re being very serious, but don’t get the chance as his cock hits a spot that has you babbling incoherently at him. kidd laughs out loud because knows what your answer really is; he’s just going to keep fucking you until you can say it with conviction.

#fic request #🔆💕🌴 feels like summer event 🥭💕🔆 #milestone event #1.3k followers mini event #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece fluff #one piece smut #eustass kidd x reader #eustass kidd x y/n #eustass kidd fluff #eustass kidd smut #kidd x reader #kidd x y/n #‘i can change him’ 🥴 #yea right!!!!

[archiveikemen]

'Secret In Your Heart' Collection Event

William Rex

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

A party was to be held at the palace and many important members of high society were invited, making it an opportunity to interact with prominent political figures.

While playing with my hair on the bed, Will told me that he was invited.

William: Such events only look glamorous on the surface. But under that facade, they’re a mix of love, hatred, and plots.

William: I’m worried about whether you’ll be able to survive.

Kate: You will also be in danger, right?

Kate: In that case, I don't have the option to refuse attendance.

William: … Fufu, you’re a brave knight.

Kate: I can’t allow anyone to steal my precious King away from me.

…

And that’s why I attended the party on high alert.

I paid close attention to the hidden motives behind the peaceful conversations around me, while maintaining a smile on my face.

Sharp-Eyed Gentleman: Earl Rex — you should take good care of your valuables.

William: … Thank you for the piece of advice. May you not lose anything as well.

Will exchanged words with a gentleman who approached him while passing by.

The gentleman walked away after shooting as a meaningful glance, Will then leaned towards me and whispered in my ear.

William: Do you understand what he meant?

Kate: … I’m guessing that he meant “if we let our guards down, both of us will have something precious to us stolen”.

William: You’ve gotten better at understanding irony. Your answer is mostly correct.

William: However… this matter concerns someone else.

Kate: Huh…?

William: What do you think is precious to me?

(Something precious to Will…)

Kate: … Freedom?

William: … Pfft, ahahaha

William: Indeed, you’re right, Kate.

William: Keep an eye on me so my freedom won't be taken away.

(My response was probably… incorrect.)

(What could be “valuable” to William…? He’s not the type of person who gets attached to material things.)

While I was deep in thought about it, there was some bustling coming from the table a little distance away from us.

(What?)

I reflexively hid Will behind my back.

Sharp-Eyed Gentleman: Ugh, Urgh…!?

The gentleman suddenly turned pale and left the venue.

Kate: … What’s going on?

William: Now…

William: Do you see what he "left behind"?

…

Kate: Sigh… I’m glad nothing happened in the end.

A sudden wave of tiredness washed over me when we returned to the castle, and I plopped myself down onto the bed.

William: Yeah. “Nothing happened”, indeed.

(... Hm?)

Kate: Are you trying to imply something?

William: … I forgot how sharp your instincts have become.

Kate: What is it? Did something actually happen?

William: Nothing. All I did was protect what’s precious to me.

Kate: Protect…? Are you saying that something was targeted?

William: Yeah. My adorable, lovely, shield.

Kate: … Me?

William: You should be prouder of yourself than this, Kate.

William: Whenever you hear the question “what’s precious to me (William)”, your immediate answer should be that it’s you.

Kate: What do mean by… I was being targeted? When? By who?

William: The man who told me to “take care of my valuables”.

William: For quite some time, he’s been going around expressing his displeasure about me being in Her Majesty’s favour.

Kate: Then why did he turn pale and leave in a hurry…?

William: When he passed by, I did a little something to the glass he was holding.

(Wha…)

William: Ah, it's nothing that will put his life in danger.

William: However, because he left in the middle of an important party, he lost his reputation.

Will made an unbelievable revelation.

(I thought that I was protecting him… but he was actually protecting me.)

Moreover, he went as far as to spike that man’s drink with some drug without even laying a finger on him.

William: Haven't I told you before that I will protect you from anyone and anything that targets “you”?

William: I played a little prank on the fool who objectified my lover and so carelessly declared that he wanted to steal her from me.

I was happy to know that he was protecting me from harm.

It could've been fatal if he were to make a mistake in the drug dosage, what he did was so extreme… but it was easy to brush off that guilt.

Kate: You did that without it being part of an official mission… won’t you be in trouble if it's found out that you were the culprit?

There was a flame of mischief burning in Will’s red eyes—

William: Yeah. That’s why the truth is a secret between us.

He held an index finger over his lips with a bewitching smile.

Kate: … You’re evil.

William: What, you didn't already know?

I couldn't contain my laughter at his total lack of remorse.

Kate: Fufu, I knew.

Kate: Thank you for protecting me, Will.

William: Shhh… I told you it’s a secret.

Kate: No one but you can hear me right now. … Should I say that even louder?

William: … And if I choose to take that as you’re indirectly asking for a kiss?

Instead of giving him a verbal response, I put my arms around his neck.

And everything that happened afterwards was a secret between the two of us.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil collection event #william rex

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Roy/Jamie fic idea: Just listened to " The Other Side" by Ruelle and it just got be wanting a fic where one of them gets a life-threatening scare, like almost dying in a car wreck of coughing up blood and needing to get tested. The other is losing his damn mind with worry. They don't wanna know what it's like to live without the other, what kind of empty life that would be. Que wanting to finally get married, have kids together, hell get a dog and the whole nine yards!

Aww okay I love it

Jamie saw it on the news. He didn’t even get a text. Or a call. The fucking reporter for channel 6 told him.

Roy was in a crash.

A really bad one.

Not his fault, his car flipped twice. They’re saying he’s in the hospital. Got fucking flew there in a helicopter.

Jamie realizes he dropped the plate he was holding. There’s glass all over the floor. Hell there’s blood running down his hands. His phone starts ringing, he practically rips it out of his pocket. “Hello?”

It’s a woman’s voice that responds, “yes hello, Jamie Tartt? You’re Roy Kent’s emergency contact. He’s been in an accident. He’s out of surgery now. We couldn’t find your number for a while.”

Jamie collapses to the floor. “I’ll be right there.” She hums and hangs up. Jamie can’t breathe.

He runs to the car faster then he’s ever run before.

—————

When Jamie finally sees Roy he’s awake. Covered in blood and a cast on his arm but awake. He’s sitting in a hospital bed.

Jamie freezes in the doorway. He can’t move.

“Baby?”

Jamie let’s put a shaky sob. He slowly walks forward and touches Roy’s face. Roy leans into his hand like a cat, kisses the palm of Jamie’s hand. “I’m okay. It’s okay.”

Jamie drops like a puppet with its strings cut. He collapses into the chair next to the bed. He’s sobbing. Jamie doesn’t know if he can hold onto Roy any tighter.

Roy leans forward and pulls at Jamie until he gets the idea. He gently crawls into bed with Roy.

Jamie presses a kiss to Roy’s shoulder. He gets an annoyed noise and Roy grabs his face and fully kisses him. It’s probably not an appropriate kiss for a hospital but Roy almost died. Jamie thinks it’s fair.

——

“I can’t ever leave you again.”

Jamie blinks at Roy. It’s a week after the accident. They’ve talked a bit. They’re in bed for the night, Roy’s arm on a pillow and Jamie curled under the other one. “What do you mean? You never left me?”

Roy sighs. He has a serious face. He kisses Jamie’s nose. “I want more with you. A dog. Another cat. I wanna call you my husband.”

Jamie grins at Roy. Before he can say anything Roy keeps going. “Wanna be able to tell people, ‘oh yeah that’s my husband Jamie’”

Roy isn’t looking at Jamie. He can’t. There’s a lot of things he can’t do right now.

Jamie presses a kiss to his neck. And tucks his head into Roy’s shoulder. “If we’re naming things we want.. I want to be able to tell a kid to go and find their other dad. Or like ask your dad.”

Roy sits up straight. He pulls Jamie with him so they’re sitting across from each other. “You wanna have a kid with me?” Jamie laughs. He can’t help it. “I wanna do everything with you.” Roy yanks him into an aggressive kiss. He can’t help it. God he loves this man.

“I’ve got a ring in the drawer. Was my grandfather’s. Want to melt it down and put half in my ring and half in yours.” Jamie has tears in his eyes. “I’d love that.”

“I love you.”

Jamie kisses Roy again. “Love you too.”

There’s a beat of silence and they lay back down.

“Can we get another cat tomorrow.

Roy let’s put a sigh. He knew that one would come back to bite him. “Yeah. Course we can.”

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #jamie x roy #royjamie #roy kent x jamie tartt #thanks for the ask !! #hope you like !! #more of my Jamie is a cat person agenda #sorry idk how that slipped in

[twig-tea]

Love in the Big City Part 3: Kylie Recontextualizes Everything

I have waffled all week about what to write about this chapter. There have been some great essays about HIV and the stigma in Korea by @stuffnonsenseandotherthings here, as well as how antiretrovirals and pre-exposure prophylactics work and when they were available from @wen-kexing-apologist here. This context was all critical to understand everything Young doesn’t talk about in this section of the book. 

I’ve been stuck on so many parts of this section of the book. The way stigma holds people back from care, from maintenance, from life-saving treatment and knowledge, from understanding their condition and preventing them unnecessarily from living a full life, which @doyou000me had me thinking about with their comments about Young’s coping mechanisms of minimization and emotional distance that possibly worked in conjunction with the Korean government healthcare policies and social stigma to keep Young from being informed about his own condition. The way Young holds himself back from happiness, and how it’s so heartbreaking to watch him open up to it slowly in this section and then, as @my-rose-tinted-glasses wrote , he let the shame and self-loathing take control again. The way this relationship feels so real; @lurkingshan wrote so eloquently on how this section describes the details of a relationship as it started to settle. The relationship with Hyung was entirely ephemeral, in the liminal period of time between when Young was visiting his mother in hospital and before everything opened again for the day. There is so much that Young and Hyung never talked about–more than was obvious in chapter 2, because he never told Hyung about Kylie. In contrast, as @bengiyo pointed out, his relationship with Gyu-Ho started with honesty and was rooted in the physical presence of their apartment, which as a beautiful metaphor was grounded and improved slowly over time through the work they put into it but was also too small for them. 

I keep thinking about how Part 3 is bookended by Young disappointing Gyu-Ho with his absence. How he leaves him at the airport both times, thinking he’s doing Gyu-Ho a favour actually–he characterizes Gyu-Ho’s trip to Japan without him as much more fun, and he imagines Gyu-Ho’s future in Singapore will be better. In both cases, Gyu-Ho was only going because of Young, because Young wanted to, and Young planned it. But our narrator cannot get past seeing himself as something that brings Gyu-Ho down, and so he sabotages his own future. I feel for Gyu-Ho, being shepherded onto a plane alone when he was envisioning his future with the man he loved. It must have been devastating to be pushed away. 

This is not related to anything but I just love the detail of Young’s split lip and how he tastes blood when he kisses Gyu-Ho while drunk at the club and not yet knowing his name, and then panics, and we as readers don’t yet know why. Brilliant storytelling. 

I can’t stop thinking about how this reveal recontextualizes everything in parts 1 and 2. How the “incident that earned me a medical discharge” means Kylie was already in Young’s life as he took the engineering student he was seeing with him to get an STD check; as he was screamed at by an ex who prophesied that Young would get sick from being promiscuous and called him a ‘dirty rag that could never be cleaned’, which Young took with stoicism. I loved @bengiyo ‘s observation in his post linked above that Kylie’s presence likely coloured his reaction to Jaehee outing him to her fiance. 

Kylie was present as he watched his coffee be stolen by Hyung, when he thought about introducing Hyung to his mother, while he was wrestling with how Hyung (and, I think the narration makes clear, how he) was ashamed at how Young couldn’t ‘pass’ and was ‘obviously gay’, when he choked Hyung in his mother’s kitchen and it was seeing his tears on Hyung’s face that made Young let go. Kylie was part of him when he drank pesticide and tried to die, while he sat by his mother’s sickbed and had her head in his lap in the park, when he said “disease can turn anyone into a completely different person”, when he said he would “hope that she would die without having known.” 

Mostly, my brain keeps getting stuck on how familiar Young is to me. His choices, his self-loathing, his refusal to take anything seriously because at his core he’s terrified of facing what his reality means. And that fear ironically gets in the way of him understanding that his reality is not as scary as he thinks it is. He functions like he has to be alone, and so much of that comes from his internalized homophobia and his HIV diagnosis. He’s been told he’s dirty, something to be cleaned but irreparable, by so many people in different ways through his life. The man he claims as his greatest love barely even liked him as a person, and didn’t fully know him. I think that’s why he was able to feel more fully with Hyung, because in a way that relationship felt safer..Gyu-Ho, the person who knew all of him, and who wanted to build a life together with that complete and full knowledge of him, must have been terrifying, and I’m not surprised it felt easier to push him away than to fight for their future together. But it breaks my heart. 

There’s something rattling in my head about the T-aras that I don’t really know how to get out onto the page. In this chapter it’s revealed that the T-aras have been around the whole time, but they weren’t mentioned in parts 1 and 2. I think the fact that Young’s life feels more rounded, filled in with other people, and rich, than in parts 1 and 2 speaks to his emotional state in this part, as well as to how his time with Gyu-Ho wasn’t obsession but was more grounded in the mundane and the everyday. The T-aras themselves feel like familiar friends. Like with Hyung and JaeHee (at first), Young is drawn to people who he can remain emotionally distant from and who remain emotionally distant from him. People who will buy the story of “ruptured disc” for why he left military service early. People who joke about being poz and won’t ask questions and who hear the news about his new boyfriend as an ‘in’ to their favourite club. People who don’t take things seriously (or in Hyung’s case take things so seriously that Young can’t take him seriously). I was so glad to find out they existed because up to this point Young felt so isolated most of the time, with his world circling around one obsession in each part. But he had the T-aras the whole time; I’m choosing to read this as he just didn’t hold their importance to him in the same way in parts 1 and 2. As was already clear in the narrative but this makes even more obvious, Young’s isolation is not only self-inflicted but it’s in some ways a lie he tells himself to feel safer. He has friends, he just refuses to acknowledge their presence or importance, or to let them in to be more important, because he is so braced for being rejected for core parts of him that cannot be excised.

#litbc book club #love in the big city #sorry i'm so late with this one #this got more florid than i like to be #this Part had me way too in my feelings

[taintedtort]

Hii I was wondering if I could get a crack fic where it’s Wanderer (blue scara if you still didn’t know) x fem!reader but the reader can eat a lot of spicy food but he can’t bc he pulled a factory reset on himself so he’s rlly shocked when reader eats spicy food bc he can’t even get past normal spice

prompt ✧ spicy!

character ✧ wanderer/scaramouche ??

warnings ✧ gn!reader cus i didn’t know how to make reader fem? , crack, use of scaras real name once (kuni), spicy food

a/n ✧ i’ve been meaning to write for wanderer version of scara but i just haven’t yet, BUT NOW I AM! thank you for this cute request, i love it

scaramouche’s face morphed into confusion when he saw the stand you had suggested the two of you eat at. it was a joint with mostly spicy food, which he did not like, and he assumed you didn’t either.

“it’s all spicy food you know.” he replied, dismissing the idea and looking for somewhere else to eat. but his eyes snapped back to your form when you answered.

“i know, cmon!” you tugged on his hand that was intertwined with yours and led him towards the stand. he was making a sour face as you dragged him along.

“uhm… are you sure?” he asked, clearly trying to get you to change your mind. he refused to tell you he couldn’t handle anything spicy to save his life.

“of course, one of my favorite dishes is served here.” you were smiling, clearly eager and excited to get served the delicious food. scaramouche’s stomach dropped at your statement. you liked spicy food? since when?!

the dread still lingered strong in his stomach once the two of you got seated. he looked over every dish on the menu, but he deemed everything too hot for him. he knew if he ate anything from here he’d sputter and choke, being forced to down his glass of water. he’d never live it down if you found out how much he despises these types of foods.

“what are you gonna order, kuni?” when his eyes met yours, he saw the excitement inside them. he didn’t want to ruin your fun just because of his silly food preferences.

“how about i just pick off your plate? i’m not that hungry.” he shrugged, lazily gesturing his hand at you. of course, he had zero intentions of actually eating anything in this establishment.

your brows furrowed, “are you sure?” he nodded, easily convincing you that he wasn’t eating simply because he wasn’t hungry and not at all because he can’t bare to stomach these types of dishes. when your ordered food finally arrived at the table, he cringed. he could smell the spice from his seat across from you, it made his nose scrunch and eyes slightly water. but those watery eyes soon widened with shock as you easily dug into the borderline toxic food.

he sat and watched you eat without a single reaction or sip of water. how the hell? scaramouche’s eyes were trained on your face, searching for even a slight color difference to show that you weren’t as immune to this dish as you let on. yet… nothing, he saw nothing that indicated that your mouth was burning in discomfort.

once you realized he was just staring at you and not eating, you raised your eyes to look at him. his look of astonishment made you smile. you poked your fork into a piece of the dish before holding it out to him.

“here, have a bite.” your smile was gentle and made butterflies erupt in his stomach. how could he say no? it probably wasn’t that spicy, seeing your lack of reaction. he hesitantly opened his mouth to bite the food off your fork. however, as soon as he felt the bite hit his tongue, his mouth erupted with a burning sensation. on instinct, he opened his mouth and let the piece drop onto a napkin before grabbing his drink. his cheeks were tinted pink and his face was morphed into a pained expression.

you didn’t mean to laugh, really, but he just looked so funny having a coughing fit over a tiny bite. you certainly didn’t expect him to have such a low tolerance to spice, he really should’ve said something! a glare was shot your way as soon as your giggles met his ears.

“so… you don’t like spicy food i assume?” you teased, voice pleasantly amused. he scoffed in response, opting to keep the ice cube he had fished out from his cup pressed to his tongue. archons, he was so embarrassed.

“alright well let me finish this, then we can go get you some food you like.” you reasoned, trying to cheer him up. you got a sigh and a mumbled, “fine,” from him. while you finished off the dish, he watched you, silently wondering how someone could possibly eat that and like it. once you were done, you sent him a smile and a wink.

“let’s go. nothing spicy this time, i promise.”

#reader insert #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #x reader #fanfic #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #wanderer #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi #gn reader #gender netural #taintedtort #tortasks #tortrequests

[thestylesfamilysblog]

Unexpected Visitor

Ro Styles x Harry Styles x Grayson Hart

Summary: the one visitor Ro wasn’t expecting at her door this afternoon was someone she hadn’t heard from in years…

Warnings: mentions of abusive parents, drug addiction etc

A/N: welcome a new guest to the blog…and some backstory on Ro…which is personal to me, enjoy ❤️‍🩹

Anytime she thought back to that farmhouse there were moments where she remembered the sun, and others where she remembered the broken glass, the screaming, shouting and endless torment from the two people who were supposed to raise her. When she made it out her heart broke for Grayson, or Gray as she called him, her brother who was almost twenty years younger than her, adopted into the family by her parents which looking back on it was the worst idea they could have made. Not because she didn’t love Gray but because he was still stuck at home without her to protect him. Grayson would be about 19 by now, and she hadn’t heard from him since she left that board and batten farmhouse.

“Harry will you check the dryer love, I think it’s done now!” She called out to her husband who was in the kitchen

“Yeah, one sec!” He responded and walked out of the room just as there was a knock at the door

Ro wasn’t sure who it could be, her mind too filled with the loss of Violet and the thoughts that plagued her mind about her brother and the house she fought her life to get away from. She still had the scars to prove many battles and the wounds that tainted her heart at the abuse she’d suffered throughout the years. When the drugs and alcohol came into play, everything only got worse.

She made her way over to the front door and opened it, her eyes widening as she stared at Grayson, he looked older, more mature but still the same sweet eyes he’d always had

“Grayson!?”

The teenager smiled nervously

“Hi Rue….”

Rue her real name, not the nickname many had given her over the years, and man did it feel good to hear him say it

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed pulling him into her as they held onto each other tightly, two missing souls having by some miracle came back to one another

“I-I thought I’d never see you a-again!!!”

When they pulled away Grayson nodded

“I’ve been looking for you for so long, I got out of the house last year when I turned 18…and I haven’t stopped looking”

Pulling the boy inside Rue closed the door, before Harry appeared at the bottom of the stairs

“Grayson?”

“Hey Har”

Harry was the next to bring him in for a hug, the two of them had always gotten along before he’d helped you escape your families hold on you, it was almost like a huge reunion between the three of you.

“I’m so glad you’re okay….where have you been?”

The three of them moved to the living room and sat down, Grayson sitting right next to Rue as she wiped her eyes

“I’ve been sleeping in my car…I took a bit of money from dad and just ran..”

Harry and Rue looked between each other as he continued to keep telling the story of how he left the farm in Canada behind and drove to Boston, having kept up with the blog it felt like he’d been apart of the family this whole time.

“I guess then what I’m asking is…can I stay with you…please until I um figure out what to do….just I can’t go without you anymore Rue”

Harry nodded as Rue smiled

“Of course, absolutely you stay with us as long as you need….we’re moving back to London in a few weeks but come with us…I don’t want you out of my sight again either…”

In that moment the brother and sister held each other tightly as Grayson finally let himself relax, he didn’t need to run anymore, he was home and he was safe.

Rue never let anything happen to Gray then, and she wouldn’t now. He was home.

#thestylesfamily #rostyles #ruestyles #graysonhart #rue hart #rues writes #the styles family masterlist #the styles family writing

[jungle-angel]

Protector (Breath of Life Part 4)

Summary: No matter what, fathers will always be there for their sons

Notes: Might have references and touches of “Nightmare”, a shortfic I wrote about two months ago. Anywho....enjoy

Beep, beep......the tiny heart monitor blipped away

“August,” Bob murmured as he stroked the dark blonde tufts of hair on your son’s hair, sniffing back the tears that dripped from his eyes. “Hold on.....just a little while longer.....hold on for me and Mama.”

Beep, beep.......fainter than before.

Bob’s lips gently brushed the crown of August’s head, his chest growing tight as the beep of August’s heart monitor grew fainter.......until......

Bob could hear himself frantically crying out for Auggie, the baby’s tiny cries tearing and clawing at his heart, unable to do anything for him. He was practically screaming August’s name until his throat was hoarse. 

“AUGGIE!!!! AUGGIE!!!”  

He couldn’t see him, not in that hazy, red and black nightmarish void. Bob kept calling his son’s name, but to no avail.

The flatline reached his ears, loud and shrill........

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

Bob snapped awake with a loud gasp, his heart racing at a dangerous pace and an awful, freezing sweat running down the back of his neck as he ran his shaky hands through his hair. A few tears dripped from his eyes, his lower lip and chin trembling, unable to keep the shuddering sob inside. 

He hardly heard the tiny cries coming from Auggie’s crib at the foot of the bed until he snapped out of it and realized his and (y/n)’s son was there......and alive. 

Bob threw aside the bedcovers and made his way to the crib, sticking his glasses right on the bridge of his nose to see better in the dark. He stripped off his yellow-orange shirt and carefully lifted Auggie out of his crib, bringing him to his chest the way (y/n) had showed him how. God Bob wished she didn’t have to go and get the others at the airport. He hated sleeping without her.

“Shhhhh, Auggie......Auggie it’s ok,” Bob croaked, more tears dripping from his eyes as he tried to rock his tiny son back to sleep. “It’s ok.....Daddy’s here, Daddy’s got you.” 

Bob still felt the tightness of his panic, needing to get outside and get some fresh air. Out to the back porch he went, carefully seating himself in the porch rocker with a blanket wrapped tight around Auggie. The ocean roared in the distance, crashing onto the shores while a warm breeze blew in from the west. Every time Bob looked up at the stars, he counted down the hours when the rest of Dagger Squad would be home from Bethesda and when (y/n) would be bringing them back from the airport. 

He wanted so badly to just shake off the nightmare, but the intensity had shaken him to his core. He and (y/n) had almost lost Auggie, the fear of the moment still lingering on his mind like a disease. 

The storm door to the porch creaked open just a minute later as Joe graced his son with his presence and a freshly rolled joint hanging loosely from his pencil thin lips. “Hey Dracula,” Joe greeted. “What are you doing up? It’s the Witching Hour.” 

Joe took one look at his son’s face, quickly noticing the thousand-yard stare that had entered Bob’s eyes. “Bobby?” he said. “Robby talk to me, what’s going on?” 

“I.......I can’t I.......I don’t know how.....” 

Joe tucked the joint behind his ear and knelt right next to the porch rocker. “Bob, people only go quiet like that when something’s on their minds. I’m not gonna leave you alone till you tell me what’s wrong.” 

Bob shifted a little, his arms still protectively encircled around Auggie. “We almost lost Auggie once,” Bob explained, trying to hold back his tears. “I don’t wanna lose him Dad.....I’m terrified we’re gonna lose him if something goes wrong.” 

“Hey, hey,” Joe said, snaking his arm around Bob’s shoulders. “I get it. After your Mom died I swore I’d lay down my life for you if I needed to. When I heard your name called at the Top Gun graduation, all I could think was, ‘Irene, I’d lay down my life for Bob, but for God’s sake don’t let it come to that. Every time you and the rest of the squad go on a mission I can’t help but think that.”

Bob knew his father better than anybody. It took serious balls for someone like Joe to admit that. 

“Auggie will be fine,” Joe promised him. “His Mimi’s lookin out for him....I know that much.” 

Bob wiped away a few stray tears from his eyes. “Thanks Dad.” 

“No problem Robby,” Joe answered. “You know, I was gonna smoke this but it can wait till after sunrise.” 

“Can you do me one favor though?” Bob asked. “Can you hold Auggie for a minute or two? (y/n) said she’d text me when Rooster, Hangman and the others get in.”

“Sure, pass him off.” 

Bob carefully lifted August and placed him in Joe’s hands before going back into the house. Joe couldn’t help but laugh a little, his grandson practically disappearing in the crook of his arms.

“We’ve gotcha little man,” he whispered. “Your Daddy, your mom and Papa.” 

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #joe floyd (bob floyd's dad) #august floyd #top gun maverick short fics

[donut-cloud]

lifesteal incorrect quotes

Clownpierce : It's pretty cold outside.. wanna hold hands? We should stay close.

Branzy: Okay.

Ashswag: It's fucking summer.

Zam: Standing next to sunflowers always makes me feel weak like 'look at this fucking flower. This flower is taller than I am. This flower is winning and I'm losing.'

Don: Wow, you are not ready to hear about trees.

Pangi, seeing a banana on the car seat: What the FUCK??

Pangi, buckling the banana up: Fucking buckle UP, it's the LAW!

Branzy: We're friends, right, Rek?

Rek: Normally, I'd say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don't like it.

Pangi: You-! What the fuck are you doing here?!

Zam: What the hell do you mean? This is my house! Pangi: WHAT?!

Spoke : [creeping behind Parrot to stab him]

Parrot, loudly : I hope no one is about to attack me from behind because I'm thinking about making cookies later.

Spoke pausing :

Spoke : ...what kind?

Bacon: Hello? plant, where on earth are you?

Plant: (on the phone) I waved to a man because I thought he was waving at me. Apparently, he was waving to the guy behind me. So to get out of the awkward situation, I kept my hand up so a taxi pulled over and drove me to the port. I am now in Kazimierz . I should be home by Thursday.

Bacon: Wait, wha-

Yeahjaron: Understandable, have a nice day.

Chief: You're unbelievable, Branzy.

Branzy: What do you mean? I got you guys what you wanted.

Rek: We wanted ice cream.

Branzy: No, you said you wanted, and I quote, "cones," so I got you cones.

Chief: Cones with ICE CREAM in them.

Branzy: Well it's not my fault that you didn't specify.

Rek: WHY WOULD WE ASK FOR JUST CONES?

Branzy: I DON'T KNOW BUT THAT'S WHAT YOU ASKED FOR.

Clownpierce: *is carrying all the groceries*

Branzy: *holds out hand to help*

Clownpierce: * moves all the groceries to one hand to hold Branzy's hand*

Parrot: "Why the fuck are so many people here? I thought this place was meant to be a secret?"

Vortex: "It was, unfortunately somebody couldn't keep their god damn mouth shut!"

Spoke: "I said I was sorry!"

Vortex: i have decided that i am in fact a snack. people are just not hungry.

Parrot, under his breath: i'm fucking starving.

Spoke: I think we can all agree I'm the ten amongst these threes.

Spoke: The candy I'm about to eat is partially unwrapped. So, if I pass out or start saying weird shit, I've probably been either drugged or poisoned. Wish me luck, guys

PrinceZam: I bet ten bucks that shit is drugged Vortex: Twenty bucks and I say it's poisoned

 Parrot: You will both owe me your lives if he ends up in the hospital

Spoke: How long do you think it'll take?

Parrot: I don't know, three or four.

Spoke: Three or four what? Days? Weeks? Months?Parrot: Yeah, maybe five.

Spoke: Five what?!

Parrot: "...Please tell me you have a spare key."

Vortex: "...That was the spare key.

Spoke: The floor is lava!

Clownpierce : *helps Branzy onto the counter*

Vortex: *kicks Parrot off the sofa*

Parrot: *lays on the floor*

Spoke: ...Are you okay?

Parrot: No.

Spoke, trying to comfort Parrot: What's the problem? Anxiety? Low self-esteem? Obsessive thoughts of random arson? I've been there.

Vortex: How did you break your nose?

Parrot: Do you see that glass door?

Vortex: Yes.

Parrot: I didn't.

Parrot: *Starts dying*

Vortex: QUICK CALL 911!

Spoke: What's their number??

Parrot: *Temporarily stops dying* WHAT'S THEIR NUMBER? REALLY?!

Parrot: You saved me. I owe you my life.

Vortex: No thanks. I've seen it and I'm not very impressed.

Parrot: You were stabbed. Do you remember anything?

Vortex: Only the ambulance ride to the hospital.

Parrot: That wasn't an ambulance, I drove you.

Vortex: But I heard a siren.

Parrot: That was Spoke.

Vortex, (rolling down the car window): What seems to be the problem, officer?

Parrot: Get the FUCK out of my car

Spoke, waking up from  coma: Oh hey, guys. What time is it?

Parrot: It's about 2am. Are you hungry? 

Spoke: Oh, cool. I'm up for some toast.

Vortex: ...

Spoke, giggling: Hey Vortex, why can't a koala be a bear?

Vortex, reading a book: Because they're marsupials

Spoke: bECaUse THey'Re mArsUPiaLS

Parrot: NO! It's because they don't have the right koalafacations

plant

planet 

#lifesteal #lifesteal smp #lifestealsmp