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#and I liked them at the beginning!!! but now I'm just confused and frustrated
fraugwinska · 2 months
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um hi! can I request an embarrassed Al with s/o who likes to kiss on him repeatedly? :))
Hey there Anon! I hope I got it right? =D I just needed a bit of fluff and sickly-sweetness! ❤️ Thank you for your suggestion!
❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️
Pandoras Box
“You are looking grumpy today, my love.”
“I’m not grumpy. “
You and Alastor sat on the sofa next to the fireplace in the salon, a common occurrence that you had developed over the past few months. Whenever one of you had some time to spare, you'd find yourself on this very sofa, with the other magically appearing to keep you company. Sometimes your read together, sometimes you listened to music, most of the times you talked, about this and that, about light and heavy things, whatever came to mind. 
One fateful time, you had told him that you loved him. and a few other times later, Alastor had told you he loved you too. 
Everything could've been perfect if there wasn't the huge difference in need for physical affection. While you were a very touchy-feely person when it came to the people you liked (much less, loved), someone who loved to hug, kiss and cuddle - Alastor was reserved, to say the least. 
You understood, he came from another time, another culture, his tight-wound manners and gentlemanly behavior deeply ingrained in his personality. You loved him because of it, wanting to give him time to maybe someday get used to the idea, but sometimes the wait frustrated you - seeing Charlie and Vaggie lovingly hug each other every day on their way to the kitchen before breakfast, or Husk and Angel sneaking around the hotel (like no one would see them), making out in dark corners. You wanted to be respectful of his boundaries, but that didn't mean you weren't longing for more - or any - PDA. 
“The little wrinkle between your brows says otherwise, little doll.”
He looked up from his newspaper and rubbed the space between your brows with his long, slender fingers. You swatted them away and huffed. 
“I'm not grumpy. I'm…”, you searched for the right words, feeling Alastor's worried gaze on you. “...restless.”
He tilted his head in confusion, his smile more tense than usual. you knew him well enough to know he was worried. “And why's that, dear?”
You decided that the time has come where honesty was the best measure. 
“Because I want to kiss you.”
He stiffened, his fingers dug deep into the newspaper he held. You fiddled with the edges of a throw pillow - now pandoras box was opened, so you had to see it through. You lifted your eyes to look at him. His ears were folded back on his head, his smile seemed strained… and from under his collar, you could see the beginning of a flush. 
Oh. That was interesting. 
“Right now, here? That's a little... inappropriate, don't you think?”, Alastor said quietly, smile still tapered on but his eyes quickly scanning the empty foyer. 
“No one's here Al… besides, I just… Sometimes I just want to kiss you, or hug you, without care where we are or who might see it.” you say softly. “But I know you don't like that, so… I repress it.”
Alastor sighs, the redness creeping from his neck up to his jaw. 
“I suppose,”, he starts, voice slightly distorted - he's looking away from you, fixating on the double doors of the entrance, “since we are indeed alone, I could allow… “
Before he could even end the sentence, you darted forward, taking the vague opening he gave you, and pressed your lips on his. 
Different than the kisses you shared in the 'secrecy' of your bedroom, this kiss felt daring, exciting and oh-so-sweet. You could taste the way Alastor was flustered by your sudden brazeness, although he reciprocated. Hesitantly at first, but when you sighed into his lips he visibly and audibly relaxed, his hand tenderly weaving into your hair, scraping your scalp and pulling you closer. 
You broke the kiss, radiating happiness, it must've shown on your face because Alastor chuckled quietly, cheeks now as flushed as his neck. 
“My, that wasn't half as bad as I thought it… “
Another kiss cut him off again, like an addict you moved onto him, straddling him while you couldn't stop yourself, kissing his lips, his cheeks, his temples, searching for any spots that haven't been covered by your lips. 
Alastor had no chance in stopping you, mumbling things like “Enough dear!”, “Silly girl, you!”, even coming as far as “Give you an inch and you take a mile!” while you attacked him with feverish pecks. 
With a last, soft and long kiss on his lips, you slid your arms around his waist and let yourself rest on his chest, giggling content into his lapels. 
“Are you satisfied now, little vixxen?”
You nodded happily, still tightly pressed into him. 
“Good.”, he mused, wrapping his arms around you. 
“And you.” his voice fell an octave, and you lifted your head to see Angel, Husk and Niffty standing not too far at the end of the foyer, visibly shaking with - in order - suppressed laughter, horrification and morbid curiosity, “will cease that memory from existence if you value functioning organs.”
You couldn't help but laugh and kiss his nose as he sent death glares to the retreating demons, his ears flicking and cheeks still painted in the sweetest shade of red. 
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The study of human social behaviour
Summary: you get kidnapped by Yautja, as well as some other people. You try to escape but in a twisted turn of events, you end up being an aliens mate for life.
Fem reader x male yautja
Warnings: NSFW, kidnapping, non-con/rape, violence, death, swearing, metion of forced pregnancy
MDNI / MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
For everyone else: read at own risk
Not proof read, English is not my first language
---------- <3 ----------
"I remembered how I was sitting at my dining table, eating.
Just minding my business and trying to calm down from my stressful day at work. But everything changed with a sudden white light illuminating my surroundings completely." I said, looking into everyone's faces. We sat in a circle. On the cold white ground. What seemed to be LED lights shone so bright, it hurt my eyes at the beginning. Now my eyes didn't mind anymore. The walls were empty and cold.
I turned to look behind me. Looked at the big glass where these aliens are probably observing us. "And that's how I ended up here, in this room. That's all I know." My glance shifted right back at the group. We were three women and three men. Some acknowledged my story by nodding, others by just looking at me wide eyed. I was last to tell. Their stories weren't any diffrent. All of them experienced that white illuminating light. And then they were waking up in here.
I have no idea how long we've already been here. But probably not even a day. Neither do I have any idea what these aliens want from us. Or if they would be happy to tell us, if they even know our tongue.
For now we just sat around. Trying to wrap our mind around what we should do. What THEY would do. One guy threw in a idiotic plan on how he would try to escape, which was quickly shut down and discouraged by us. Why? Because we already saw these aliens. We saw how they were built and could easily lift a out of hand human, to throw them out. The guy they threw out was here again, but he was now quiet. I don't know what they did to him. He doesn't tell either.
After a while our conversations got more quiet, less frequent. I personally was frustrated there was nothing to pass time here. Frustrated I still don't know what the fuck they want. I was laying on the ground for a while now. Others laying too, or sitting against the wall. Suddenly the lights dimmed. I jump up and look around. See if I can spot any differences. Nothing. After a few seconds a big plate from underneath the viewing window was brought into the room. On it were various kind of fruits and vegetables from earth. We all looked at each other. Confused. Should we eat it? Is it poisoned? A woman took the first step. "I'm hungry!", she exclaimed. She took a Mango and bit right in it, peeling the skin then, when she punctured the Mango.
Everyone else followed. I did so too, grabbing an apple, inspecting it. I stood close to the viewing window. Out of curiosity I pressed my forehead against it, I could see the shape of these aliens. They stared at me. Noting something in their, what seemed to be, computers. I sat down on the ground. Just like everyone else. We were now gathered around the plate containing food.
After what seemed to be another hour, the light turned even more dim. Enough to see, but significantly more darker. "I have to use the toilet. Real bad", one of the guys said. "Use the corner?" The other guy said. One girl got mad and made a gagging sound "Are you crazy?" "Well where else is he supposed to go? There's nothing here!"
I look up at the window, and point at it. "Maybe we can ask them?" "Oh sure. Please mister or misses alien, give us a toilet." The guy who had to pee said mockingly. The girl that was still quiet since the beginning sighed and said we should give it a try. She stood up. She looked at all of us, unsure if she should really do it. I nodded. The pee guy nodded too. "Toilet! We need a toilet!" She screamed at the window. Nothing happened. I look through the window again making sure someone is even on the other side. Which yes they are. I look at the girl. "Do it again", I said. She screamed again. This time I joined in and banged my fist against the window. The guy who had to pee chuckled and mocked us again.
Suddenly the big plate was taken back. The sound of a motor made us all go quiet. We looked at where the sound came from. We all starred in awe as a new small room in a corner was build. The new walls including a door came out of the big walls. The motor kept whirring until it seemed to lock in. The guy who had to pee stood up and bolted for that room. As he opened the door he screamed out in ecstasy. "It's an actual fucking bathroom!" He slammed the door, locking it and doing his thing. We could hear muffled yelling. "It has a shower and everything, holy shit!"
The girl who was screaming at the window to get a toilet sat down again. We were all still in our spot. And the rest of the room was still empty. We were all in that corner as if the rest of the room is bad. The guy came back from his bathroom break. Sat down with us as well. I didn't know anyone. Not even their names. Would it be awkward to ask now? Whatever. I'll do it. "I'm Y/N."
They looked up at me. Silence.
"I'm Dave", said the pee guy. "Rachel." The girl that screamed but was always silent.
"Maria", she smiled as she said her name. The girl that was disgusted by the 'pee in the corner suggestion'. "Alexander. But Alex is cool too" said the guy who had lost his temper at the start and was taken by these aliens to god knows where but brought back.
The guy who suggested Dave to pee in the corner sighed. "Nick."
"Is that short for anything?" Maria asked. "Nicklas." Silence again. So now we know each others names. I was tired. I layed down. Some others followed soon after. Motor whirring came up again. We jumped up to look. Out of the wall came beds. For everyone one. They were lined up next to each other on one wall, next to the bathroom. We looked at each other again. We slowly stood up and went over. A fight soon came to ensue. No one wanted to sleep right next to the window. "One of the men have to go on that bed!" Rachel stood her ground. "Nuh uh", said Nick, "I won't let them grab me first!"
"There's not even a door there! To be frank the door is over there!", Dave pointed at the other wall, the door was disguised. The wall plate was over it, covering the door. We all know. Because Alex was taken through it. "Nick, they're always gonna be watching us, everyone of us. It doesn't matter." I said. Nick turned to me. "Then go ahead and sleep on this bed. It's all yours."
I rolled my eyes. I looked at it. At all of them. None of them had blankets. Only pillows and a matress. I nodded. "Fine." Since this discussing was over we all just laid down. Alex still sat on the foot end of his bed. Starring at the opposite wall and where the door is. I was too tired to hold more conversation today. And I don't want to push him. So I just fell asleep.
The next day was more of the same. Our day was started by being woken up by motor whirring sound. Another plate with the same food being brought in. But instead of grabbing something everyone groaned and made a run for the bathroom. Some were faster some slower. I stood up slowly. I didn't have to pee that badly. I passed Alex bed. He was still laying in it. Eyes closed. Snoring. He's a deep sleeper. The line became smaller and smaller. And at last we were all gathered around the table and eating. Except for Alex.
"What did he see?" Maria asked. Everyone shrugged their shoulders. Silence. Maybe no one wanted to keep talking about it because maybe these aliens will get mad. Understandable. We left some food for Alex on the plate. As we stood up and went back to our respective beds to sit down on soft ground the motor starter whirring again. The plate with Alex's food was taken back. Since I was closest to the window and the plate I jumped up and grabbed the left overs before it was fully gone.
I placed it at the foot end of my bed. Waiting on my bed for anything to happen. Dave stood up and banged his fist at the window. "We're bored!" Maria rolled her eyes. There was no reaction even after a while. "Ask for something specific." Rachel said. I nod. "Oh! Like a PC or something." We all looked at Maria's comment. "A PC? What would you want with that? I doubt they have earth Internet access or would allow us to use theirs. If they even have that." Dave said.
"Well they do have PCs so I think they might have Internet? But... yeah. Ask for something else maybe?" I said. Dave resumed banging on the window. "Give us paper and pen! Paper! Pen!" Alex was awoken by the comotion. He grunted. "Shut the fuck up!" Motor started whirring again. A table with a chair like thing appeared. Right in the middle. On it, was nothing. Dave turned to the window again. "For gods sake, Pen! Paper!" Another whirring. This time the plate where usually the food was, came with several pencils and a stack of paper.
Dave grabbed a pen and paper. "If you're up for it, let's play some paper games." Not even a minute later we all gathered on the ground playing 'Town, Country, River'.
It's been days now. Painted and written paper was scattered underneath our beds. We requested a few more things. Like music, but it was a Walkman or whatever you called them from the 80s. We tried requesting a movie, all we got was a Disc, but no TV or anything. It doesn't even say what kind of movie or other media it contains. We requested a flashlight because Maria started to freak out when the lights dimmed for the night, which they granted. We requested actual cooked meals. But all that came was questionable looking things. They tried their best but... didn't look to edible. We did taste it. Either it was bland or not cooked through. So we kept eating fruits and vegetables. Yes. We did try to request raw foods, even going as far as to write and draw the ingredients and what tools we'd need, but they didn't do anything. None of them ever came in since Alex little incident. Not until this day.
We weren't sure if they had cameras in this room or not. Or where their blindspots are. So we came up with something. Nick, who had suggested before that we should try and escape, 'invented' the human pile. We would throw ourselves on a pile, laying on the ground with our stomach, basically. So our heads would be looking down at the same spot in the middle and our heads would be so close together we'd maybe have the chance of a camera not catching what we write on a piece of paper. We'd also be stacked upon each other, and someone would have to hold Maria's flashlight so we could see what was written on the paper. Because that's how close our heads had to be. Of course these aliens must wonder and get suspicious what we'd do. So we started out with drawing really weird things like memes. Of course we'd laugh about it. We all hoped the aliens would think we were just doing some stupid human bonding stuff drawing these pictures.
And only in-between we wrote the plans and discussions for escaping. We'd black them out or overdraw them with memes. Just to make sure. Our plan so far? The strongest must pretend that he has a heart attack or something. Everyone else needs to back up against the empty wall and pretend to be scared, where the door is. So when they open it the second strongest and strongest can distract them aliens. But why try to escape? We were here since days. Pretty sure we're on a planet. Not ours but a planet. We can hear no big motor sound that made us think that we were still in space or something. Also the fruits and vegetables changed in shape, size and color that it made us think that these ones are not from earth anymore. They looked more alien yet earthly. Like they've ran out of earth veggies and fruits and now only have their similar stuff left.
Maybe we'd have a chance of surviving out there. But we won't stay here forever. We asked them on how long they plan on keeping us here. What they want. But no answer ever came. They just starred back at us through the window. We're not gonna die here.
The day of the plan finally came. We all kept acting as always. Wake up. Eat. Do something. Nick and Dave worked out, push ups, squats, whatever, trying go get more pumped up for later. Alex was still in bed, not yet getting up, but due to the circumstances fully awake. Maria, me and Rachel on the ground playing or drawing. Rachel then got up. She took some tomatoes from under her bed that she kept there from this morning and started screaming and acting weirdly. The plan has started.
Maria and I got up. Looking at her. The men turned to look at her. We all pretend to be in shock. She started throwing the tomatoes on the window. Taking the table and throwing it against the window. Dave shoved the table to the wall, where he ordered us to go and stay safe away from Rachel. Still the plan.
I felt my heart pumping hard. I am so nervous. This could go so wrong. Suddenly the plates were moved and the door was opened. An alien came in and headed towards Rachel. Dave immediately grabbed the table and smashed it down on the alien. They got into a fight, the table broke so Dave took a piece and hit it over and over again. The alien groaned. We ran towards the door. It was closed. There were buttons tho. Alex pressed the one he remembered the most from the day he was taken. It opened. Just as wanted to slip through the door closed on me and Dave. Dave got stuck between the door. It didn't do much. But the wall plates started moving to shut close. We heard the others scream from the other side. Nick and Rachel quickly taking over and running away with the other two.
The wall plates didn't stop. Dave screamed for help. I grabbed his arm and started to pull him, but his other arm was stuck in the door. He flexed it, twisted and turned it, but it was stuck. The wall finally came to a close. I screamed and looked away as a crunching noise emitted the room. I shut my eyes and held my ears with my hands that quickly let go of Dave. I looked at the ground. My back was turned to Dave. A puddle of blood came close to my shoes. I took away my hands from my ears. Listening if I could hear Dave speak or breath. Nothing. Silence.
I felt nauseous. I felt like I was about to drop dead myself. I couldn't bear looking back at him now. I dont want to see his crushed body. The alien that has been hit layed in front of me. Seemingly unconscious as he was still breathing. Defeated I sat down next to it. I couldn't even bear to sit on the bed now. I heard commotion behind me. The wall plates and door moving to open. Daves body hit the ground, before he was dragged out. When I was sure he was gone, I turned as well. Ther was no alien standing guard. So I jumped up and ran- but the unconscious alien grabbed my arm and jerked me right back down with one motion. He wasn't unconscious. He was pretending like we were. "Please let me go." I said, still trying to pull away but the alien was just too strong.
It got up. Its large frame hovering over me. It was wider than me too. His muscles seemed so large and its grip... two things that showed me that it could crush my skull easily if it wanted to. I was as well lifted up to stand. Another alien, unlike the one holding me, wore white instead of silver armor. The one now standing in the doorframe also seemed to wear more fabric. Was more covered. The one holding me seemed to wear the more basic armor or clothes. So I thought. They communicated in a tongue I couldn't understand. When they were done, the one holding me looked down to me, looking deeply into my eyes. I looked at it back. It's eyes shone yellow, against his dark, almost black and brown shades of reptile like skin.
I couldn't read its emotions. Out of no where it yanked me with it, dragging me god knows where. Are they going to put me down, out of my misery like the experiment animals that we maybe were? I was dragged out of the room, I jumped over the puddle of Daves blood. Feeling disgusted and being reminded about these sounds his body made. I'd never forget that. Hallways and hallways without end. We seemed to get into another testing facility. As it still dragged me, we passed embryos of various types of unrecognisable creatures kept in large tubes.
I didn't fully understand, couldn't grasp on it that quickly. Until we reached a empty room. It wasn't large. Maybe 10 feet in every direction. "Are you going to kill me?" I asked. The alien looked at me. It shook its head no. It could understand me. "What will you do then?" It tilted its head to the side. A deep voice, growling animalistic, started to speak. "Experiment." "Experiment?", I looked at it shocked. It could speak. But what does it mean? "What were you planning with my group?" It took a while until it could form another sentence, like as if it was trying to make sure it was using the right words. "Ooman social Experiment. But now they dead." It said in broken English.
I looked at it wide eyed. "You just wanted to observe our behaviour?" It nodded. "When ooman is entrapped, yes." "And then?"
"Let ooman free again, but oomans tried escape, now dead." My eyes widened even more. "You would have let us go??" A tear ran down my face, knowing we would have made it out alive anyways. "They're dead? I saw them run out!" "We killed." It said almost confident. I looked at it now with confusion. "So why not kill me, huh!?"
"Other experiment. I decide." I tilted my head now too. "Other experiment?" "Yes, but ooman will not get out of this." It said stepping closer to me. I took a step back, trying to create distance, it tried to grab my arms but I quickly turned and tried to get to the door. It did reach it, but I didn't know which button to press, neither did pressing all of them help. Or all of them at the same time, before it grabbed me by the waist, to slam me onto his frontal body. "No escape, ooman", it growled above my head. Not long after it placed its hands on my pants colar. I placed my hands on its arms, trying to get these arms away from there, knowing where this will go. My pants buttons were ripped right off, didn't matter how much I tried to get it away. It then pulled down all of that I wore underneath my waist. Now my bare ass and vagina were exposed to the cold air. One hand was placed right between my legs, cupping my vagina, while it's middle finger started working on my clit. It send out signals to my brain I didn't want. I yelped like a puppy. I saw how it threw a cloth to the side of us. I remember it, it was the cloth between its legs. That was seemingly worn as a type of pants.
I grabbed its arms, that was still cupping and working on my vagina, still trying to push it away, I clenched my legs together, making the feeling and every movement even more intense unwillingly. My yelps have turned into small gasps of air. I leaned back on its chest, looking up on it. "Please stop" I begged. It leaned down, so much so that I was made to bend over in the process. Its hand stopped cupping me. And the other was on my neck, its pressure on my neck and now waist made me arch my back. "Stay." It demanded. I whimpered, but I obeyed. Pleased that I stood still, I felt it part my fold with its fingers. If I wasn't sure if this alien was male before I was sure enough now.
Before I knew he placed the tip of his cock into my vagina, before grabbing my hips and slamming his length into me. A scream left my mouth. A pained one. It was something I never felt before. A girth what felt like almost 4 fingers wide and a length that hit my cervix on the first slam. And from what I could feel, he still had more, that just couldn't fit in. He leaned down back to me, so my back and his chest weren't ever to part. "Mate." He said. He started with a slow pace, i could feel more of his cocks texture. It seemed to have some kind of small knobs on it, on its shaft. My face felt hot. Almost burning. I didn't know where to place my hands, so i placed them on top of his. Almost grabbing him. "My mate." He growled even more as his breath seemed to picked up with his pace. Him hitting my cervix now harder made me squirm in pain, but at the same time it felt good. His pace got even more faster. My right hand traveled to his right side of his hip, trying to push him away, or at least to make him slow down. It was too much for me, as I let my head drop, my eyes roll back and soft moans now escaping my mouth, his pace dropped but his thrusts became more violent, as well as his grunts. Not long after he buried his cock as deep as he could, standing up straight and letting me feel his warm cum fill me, as he still held me in place with his hands on my hips.
I saw it drip down along my thighs, it was a glowing greenish substance. "My mate." It repeatedly muttered. My heart pace calmed down after a while. As well as my body seemed to as well. So he pulled out. "Ah'kun", he said, pointing to himself, before he put back on his cloth covering his dick. He left the room without a word.
I stood there trembling, unsure what to do now. How to even process what just happened or throughout the whole day to be exact. Ah'kun did come back after a while. Bringing another cloth, almost looking like fancy panties, with sumo like cloth in the front and back. He held it infrong of my feet. He wanted me to step in so he could make me wear it? I guess so. So i did. He pulled it up. It was almost a bit too tight. But it should do for now. In the same motion as he pulled up my new panties or pants, he undid my shirt and bra. Of course I tried to go against it, but he just didn't bother. He was still stronger. He disposed all of my clothes with a trashcan that came out by pressing something on an empty wall. Right after he dragged me out. I was now wearing nothing but these weird panties. "Forgot..." He said. Taking a necklace of his neck and binding it around mine. "What is that?" I asked, looking at the necklace seemingly made out of bones. "Shows everyone your mate. My mate."
I look at him. At this point, I wasn't a experiment to him anymore, wasn't I? He took my silence for an answer, that was good enough for him. As we stepped outside into the daylight, we were right. We were on a planet. A tropical one. With what almost looked like aztec pyramids. And it seemed to be normal that these aliens wore only these panties. Even the female ones. Only few wore armor. "Why don't they all have armor?" I looked at him, as he held my hand. "No hunters or warrior" he pointed at the majority that didn't wear armor. "And you?" I said, I looked back and forth at them and him. "I, elite hunter. You have luck, my mate." He started to get confident again.
"Why luck?" "Elite hunter, high status." He said even more confident. His ego definitely stroked. He dragged me down the stairs of the pyramid we were in. The lab pyramid I'm taking. As we stepped out of the shadow, it was even a smart idea of him to remove my warm clothing. Because the sun here was brutally hot.
We were walking for a bit, the other aliens looked at us, specifically me. Some talked with Ah'kun, in their native tongue of course. Giving him proud pats on the back. Was a human mate an achievement? A trophy? Who knows. I don't. We finally reached another pyramid, one of those many. "My home, you live now too, here."
He closed the door behind me. In here, the air was cool again. The decorations and furniture style felt similar to several antique human civilisations, but yet held their advanced alien touch. I looked everywhere. There was even an armor room. Where his helmets and other armor were displayed. A trophy room with several heads of all kinds of creatures.
I kept looking. I found everything you'd expect from an house. Bathroom, bedroom, kitchen, living room. And empty or barely filled rooms. "What's all the empty rooms for?" "Storage. And little ones." I tilted my head. "Little ones?" He nodded. Did he mean kids? Was I even able to give that to him? What was I thinking. When did I start to be okay with this? This isn't my planet. In that moment it dawned on me. Was this my life now? I started crying. Not just because of the fact that I was here, but because of all of this.
Ah'kun patted me caringly on the back. "You will be good mom, no worry."
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yoichiris · 1 year
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love me now | itoshi rin x reader
✩ we were born in a box ✩ pro-player!rin, hurt with comfort, secret dating au
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when rin first asks you to keep quiet about your relationship, you're too in love to care.
after all, many things weren't public: not the little smile he gives you when he walks into your apartment, not the way his lashes flutter in the morning sunlight, and definitely not his grunts when he pushes into you. these were sides of rin that were only reserved for you.
but the frustration builds, with every goal that rin scores, the more attention he gets, and the more faded into the background you are.
you stand in the audience, the crowd booming as the ball strains against the net where rin has just kicked it, your eyes trained on him. usually you would've cheered, but recently you've been feeling alone. and you know it's unfair, but he doesn't even look for you, completely focused on the field.
"did you see that?" you hear some guy talking to his partner next to you, voice laced with disbelief.
"fucking awesome," someone else says.
these are the moments rin lives for, you think. outplaying the opponent. making the goal in a way that doesn't allow any doubt about his skill. the set expression on his face tells you everything, that he's planned for this moment and this moment only, and it makes you sad that you've never once crossed his mind.
sometimes you watch rin's teammates run to their partners after winning a game. you try to imagine what rin would be like, if he were like that with you. would he be like bachira, who practically swings his partner over the railings? or isagi, who cups his partner's face between his hands and presses a sensual kiss to their lips?
you think harder, and the answer is probably neither.
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which is how you end up standing at the gates of his apartment a few hours after his game ends, feeling apprehensive, when you know he'll return after doing his decompression, doing press, debriefing with his team.
rin's eyes change when he sees you.
"what are you doing here?" he asks, barely glancing at you, "i thought i told you always to wait for me inside."
in case someone sees us, is the unspoken part.
it made you feel special when he had given you the code to his apartment, bypassing all manners of security, having your name discreetly given to the concierge at the lobby. but all of that had been for his career, and his career only.
for rin, everything revolved around being the best at what he did. and you understood. but did you really hinder his career that much?
i don't want them to focus on something so trivial, he had told you once. you know he's talking about gossip, paparazzi, sensational headlines, not you, but you can't help but take it the wrong way. were you trivial to him?
"what are you so scared of, rin?" you ask him softly, your stance firm when he tries to redirect you past the unlocked gates.
he scowls, "what's gotten into you?"
"i don't know," you admit, not really knowing what you want to say, driven only by the feeling of loneliness in your chest, "what do you get out of this?"
the confusion flickers over his face for only a moment. always smart, he is.
"out of what? our relationship?" he retaliates, the way he says relationship making you flinch, even if his tone has barely changed.
you're scared to look at him, because you know what you're asking him to admit. i like you, he had said at the beginning of it all. his expression had been blank, but his eyes had an intensity that made you believe him. and you do.
but being head over heels in love with him as you are, thinking it'd be enough for everything... you hadn't been prepared. not for this kind of life with him.
"yeah," you mumble, quiet, "...i'm just tired of being your secret, rin."
he looks frustrated.
"you're not," he tells you, and once again you believe him, but it's just not enough. "what do you want me to do?"
you don't know. is there anything you could ask him to do? did you have the right to ask him to do everything he had already refused once to do?
you've had this conversation. once, twice. but rin's always been immovable, stubborn. and it's not like you didn't know that his career would always be his priority. so you had dropped it, thinking that you could move past it.
"nothing," you reply, voice shaking. you look down. you don't have the energy to do this a third time.
you sniffle, not yet crying. "i'm gonna go, okay?" you tell him, "it was a good game today."
he reaches out to you instinctively, long fingers circling your hand. he holds onto you for a moment, and you think for a second he'll say something. but he breaks eye contact first and lets you go.
"thanks," he says instead, "be careful on your way home."
you think that's your answer and tell him goodbye.
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when you wake up the next morning, you feel completely disoriented. you think the noise you hear is your alarm clock, but you quickly realize that it's just your phone buzzing incessantly.
you sit up in bed, wondering if your eyes are deceiving you.
scrolling through the hundreds of messages in your inbox, scanning through most of the keyboard smashes, and seeing rin's name over and over again, brings you to rin's instagram.
your heart pounds as your eyes take in the picture. you've never seen it before, but you recognize the sprawl of your hair, the familiar crumple of rin's sheets around you.
he's in the frame too, his lips slightly parted at the top right, his exposed collarbone leaving nobody wondering what you two were doing. your face isn't shown, but a tap on the picture shows you that he's tagged your private instagram.
of course rin would post the raunchiest picture allowed to be posted to announce your relationship. of course he had to outdo all other relationship announcements. and of course he would do it at 2am, hours after you'd had your fight.
you can barely breathe when you scroll down to the caption.
Liked by sae_it and others
itoshi_rin love you.
your fingers shake as you swipe back to your home screen, to the rin's name on your favorites page, to call him. he answers on the third ring, his voice raspy.
"hey," he grunts, sounding like all those times you've woken up next to him, with his arm slung over your waist, his chin tucked over your form.
you snuggle into your blankets at the sound of his voice. "you have something to say to me, rin?" you tease.
"no," he says, always mean, and you imagine the slight slant of his frown. "i got practice soon. talk to you later, yeah?"
you're about to protest, but he cuts you off— "i love you."
you think he's about to hang up, but there's a moment of silence as he waits, vulnerable, for you to respond. you smile, thinking about rin holding his breath on the other end of the phone.
"i love you, too."
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sae_it 3h ? 3892 likes Reply
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bachira.megu 2h congrats!!!! FINALLY 957 likes Reply
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leviathanspain · 1 year
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I WILL GET ON MY HANDS AND KNEES FOR SOME GOOD OL FINNICK ODAIR FLUFF AND COMFORT ALR After the arena is shot down, reader and Finnick desperately attempt to find each other in District 13. I'm talking reader is FIGHTING to get out of the hospital bed and screaming for Finnick. What would he do? Thank you if you fulfill this request, and remember to take care of yourself!! <333
devotion
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finnick odair x reader
synopsis: you would’ve died without him, and now he’s all you can think of
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screams erupted from your medical room. nurses and staff had been knocked unconscious on the floor, and you were scrambling to get out of the room but one of the stronger male nurses has his arms around your waist stopping you from moving.
you grunted in his arms, “where’s finnick?!” you were blind with rage and fear, unsure of your surroundings you had tried to fight them all off. perhaps the capitol had captured you, and this was part of your torture. desiring to find finnick and unable to seemed like a good method.
the male nurse didn’t say anything and you finally maneuvered an escape, your shoulder knocking back into his face, causing him to fall behind you.
you broke free just as hit the ground and you launched yourself to the door, banging on it until you heard the glass begin to crack.
haymitch had observed you and had been overhearing matching screams coming from down the hall. he turned to the doctors who had opted to stay out of the room, all deep in their patient notes. he raised his eyebrows, “just let the poor girl out. or else she’ll shatter that glass like she did the skulls of your staff.” he bluntly commented and the doctors all raised their heads in concern.
he scoffed as they acted surprised, “and don’t get me started on the other one. he nearly killed himself to get her out. that’s devotion, and a glass wall won’t stop that.”
finnick had been freaking out. he felt disoriented, shaky and confused when he awoke, and it hadn’t stopped since. you were nowhere to be found, and he had attacked all the staff who refused to give him answers on your whereabouts. he tried to find any sign that he was in thirteen, but to no avail. any markings had either been erased or hidden from view.
he emptied out a medical cart looking for anything sharp, throwing the rest of the materials at the window to break it down, he yelled in anger at the frustration of it not breaking.
meanwhile, you on the other hand had been bleeding as you finally broke through the glass. your knuckles and arms were embedded with glass but you had stepped through to find a bunch of doctors looking at you with shock.
you were going to attack them as well, but once you heard his screams, it sent you flying down the hall. you ran as fast as you could, your hospital gown dragging behind you as you did, you finally made it to the origins of the screams. inside a room just like yours, finnick was sitting with things made out to be weapons around him.
and as you banged on the glass, looking for a handle, you screamed his name.
the handle clicked open as you grabbed it and in you ran, finnick exhaling with relief as you jumped into his arms, he nearly cried as he held you.
“finn-“ you cried, holding him tightly, he didn’t feel real, none of this did.
“they were just watching me- watched me hurt all those people to get to you and they didn’t care.” you whispered, “i’m scared finnick.”
finnick nodded, “it’s okay. katniss and beetee should be here too, it’ll be alright.” he tried to reassure you, but the bodies behind him mirrored the same thing.
“i love you.” you whispered, “i love love love love you..” you kissed him, “don’t- don’t do that to me again. don’t leave me again.” your words came out breathy and frantic, and finnick could only nod to agree.
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romypearl · 21 days
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The Queen's Pawn - Regina George/Oblivious!Reader | II
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven
Summary: Everyone is interested and obsessed with Regina George, after all, she is the queen of the North Shore, so why does Y/N barely look at her? The new student, oblivious to her existence, intrigues and irritates the blonde at the same time. And she doesn't know how to deal with it.
Classification: Fluff
Warnings: Slight internalized homophobia
Word count: +2200
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Unrevised
She's always liked strawberries. Sweet, soft and tickling the roof of mouth. And, coincidentally, every now and then it turns pink.
Like the remnants of ice cream that hang around the corner of Y/N's plump lips.
It's hard to ignore, is what Regina tells herself as she turns away, trying to find a random fixed point to distract her. What proves to be more than impossible, out of the corners of her eyes she watches a little speech about Greek culture, something about Stoicism and a guy called Zeno, she doesn't really know, can't pay attention in the long words, only and exclusively in that spot. How could the Miss Perfect and Retainer of All Knowledge miss something so silly? The blonde huffs and crosses her arms in frustration, how has no one seen this yet? The Plastics seemed indifferent, pretending to pay attention to the matter while typing messages, knowing that their respective partners would do all the work for them and be grateful. She had no such luck. When Mrs. Blake, inspired by the... variety of grades, announced that she was going to pair up for assignments, she was sure that had guaranteed a top mark and a pat on the back for the minimal effort, equivalent to a zero. It would have been like that, if she hadn't made Karen switch papers to have Y/N as partner. After all, if she's so clever could easily get an A for both, but it backfired.
"What the hell kind of word is Eudaimonia?" she finally asks, frowning in confusion.
"Did you pay attention to anything I said?"
"All the things you say are very boring." Regina shrugs and turns so that they're face to face "Just like you."
She waits for some reaction, ever since they started studying about an hour ago Regina teases her and pulls all the strings in search of the right one, the one that will snap her out of the calm state of mind or hit her in some way. Nothing. She's rather unreachable. And, just like the other times, totally ignores the petty comment.
"But..." she hates doing it, every lousy second "Can you tell me what it is?"
"Right! For the last time..." Y/N settles back in chair and takes another spoonful of ice cream to mouth, thinking about how to summarize what she's been trying to say for a long time "Eudaimonia is a term from Greek philosophy that means a state of happiness and inner well-being. In literal translation it is "the state of being inhabited by a good daemon, a good genius"."
"Daemon?" I'm getting more and more lost "Did the Greeks believe in that?"
"No, it's daemons, not demons." the newbie's monotonous tone becomes animated as she starts talking, which makes Regina's heart skip a beat and she doesn't like it "In Greek mythology, they were spiritual beings who occupied an intermediate place between gods and humans, they could be either benevolent or malevolent..."
Then another speech begins, this time she tries to pay attention, but gradually the words blur into disconnected sentences and all she can focus on is how they sound on the girl's lips, how she pronounces them, her tongue curling between pearly teeth, the soft sound and, still, that damn ice cream. She tries to remember the last time she ate one, it seems like months, maybe years. What did it taste like? Overly sweet and sickly? Smooth and addictive? Why did her mother have to interrupt them and offer a dozen options? And why did she have to choose just that? Tempting. Lovely. Irresistible.
Y/N gasps in surprise and freezes in place as she suddenly feels something soft pressed against the corner of her mouth, thumb rubbing something that is apparently resisting coming out and her eyes meet sky blue irises, staring at her obstinately. The touch is long, almost purposeful, and they don't realize they're holding breath, unaware of their surroundings, too caught up in each other to notice the curious gazes of the two lackeys.
To everyone's surprise, including her own, Regina rubs the stain, picking up some of the gloss in the process, and brings to her lips, sucking it off. She has to hold back a groan and fight against her body to keep composure, pretending not to be shaken by her own impulsive, totally thoughtless, act.
"If my face was so dirty, you could simply have warned me." she says after a long, thoughtful pause, unable to find any conceivable reason except that "But I appreciate your gesture, it was really kind."
Kind? Has anyone, at any time in life, used that word to refer to her? Maybe her dad, once, just after Kylie was born and before they lost control completely. But there was nothing kind about what she had done, quite the opposite.
"Do you want more?" the blonde points to the almost empty bowl, anxious to mask the situation quickly.
"No, thanks!"
"How about Doritos?"
"I think I've eaten too much junk food today, it can't be good for me." Y/N jokes and opens a big smile, making cheeks stand out along with dimples that are almost imperceptible to inattentive eyes.
"We have strawberries." she says immediately, not stopping to think about those soft lips around the red fruit. When Gretchen looks at her in confusion and frowns, trying to subtly point, the plan comes back to mind and she decides to put it into practice "Also blueberries, raspberries, blackberries. Whatever you like, sweetie."
"You really like berries."
"You can't blame me..." Regina leans on the table, one hand on chin, long eyelashes batting slowly and a smirk, the same one that has won over every boy she's ever wanted "When is your color."
"What do you mean?" the other asked, without even looking up from the papers, missing all the theatrics.
"Red is your color..."
"My favorite color is yellow." she finally abandons the notes, only to find George defeated in front of her, about to slam her head on the glass table to get out of this nightmare "Can I use your bathroom?"
"Of course!" Regina snorts and points towards the corridor "Second door on the right, don't get lost."
Secretly, George hopes, wishes, that she really would get lost so that she could finally have the opportunity to guide her through something, or simply talk to her without two ticks on their backs. When she wants to, Gretchen can be very... clingy and insistent, often taking the brunette as a side effect, not unexpected considering how insecure she is about herself and the stability of her position in the hierarchy of North Shore, a drone that takes pride of function. Most of the time it's acceptable, in fact her presence barely matters to the queen bee in ordinary situations, but now all she wants is for the two of them to disappear at the snap of a finger.
"Karen, Gretchen, I need you to do me a favor." Regina is direct, in a casual tone.
"Of course! What do you need?" Wieners replies promptly, always eager to please.
"Can you go to the convenience store and get some Redbulls?" she smiles and stands up, taking one of the credit cards out of the purse, tossing it for them to take "All the flavors you can find."
"Now?"
"Yes, now. And get some more ice cream too."
They exchange glances, but don't dare deny Regina anything, even if it means half an hour's walk "Right, we're going."
The pair get up and leave quickly, holding their tongues to avoid questioning her about the sudden request, nor about what seems to be an interest in the newbie. Right from the first day, they listed her as a loser, with no social sense and who no one would have the courage to touch without a ten-foot pole, so they didn't understand why she insisted on winning her over. And they had no idea that she would have her as a partner in history and now visiting the George mansion.
Regina smiles triumphantly. The living room is finally quiet and she can turn her attention completely to the plan, she didn't feel shy or pressured to succeed around them, but didn't have all the attention from Y/N as she can have without silly questions and random celebrity gossip. It's the perfect moment.
She stares at herself in the mirror above the fireplace and fixes the smallest details of appearance so that she looks flawless.
"Gina!" her mother calls out from the kitchen, walking briskly into the room, and she rolls her eyes, before feeling blood run cold at the sight of her companion "What a adorable girl! She even offered to help me in the kitchen."
"Mom..." she mutters between teeth, trying to keep composed as her mother steps forward, arms around Y/N's shoulders "She's here to study."
"Oh, of course, of course! Studying is important." June says with a mischievous smile and finally lets her go "Studying what? Human anatomy?" and winks suggestively at her daughter, causing a wave of embarrassment and annoyance.
"Mom!" Regina exclaims, face burning with embarrassment, hoping that the girl won't pay any attention to her mother. At least she didn't offer condoms like last time, which didn't embarrass her like it does now "It's history."
"And philosophy." Y/N adds.
"A lot less interesting, but still important." the woman continues, not letting herself be put down, and turns to the visitor "Darling, would you like something to drink? Juice? Lemonade? More ice cream?"
Y/N, not at all affected by the expansive and slightly invasive personality, nods and opens a shy smile "A juice would be great, thank you."
"Perfect!" June hurries off to the kitchen, but not before taking one last meaningful look at her firstborn, who blushes visibly.
Regina sighs heavily and sits down at the table, this time next to her classmate, trying to regain control of the situation.
"Sorry about that. Sometimes my mom is a bit much."
"It's okay!" Y/N replies, settling into the soft chair, and goes back to concentrating on the notes scattered across the surface. In an almost imperceptible movement, she adjusts her glasses, which the blonde hadn't even noticed were resting on the top of head, and puts them on face, completely transforming her appearance "You're lucky."
It's Regina's turn to gasp, barely feeling the surprised sound escape between her lips. She'd deny it to anyone who asked if she thought the girl was beautiful, deny it to death, but there's something differently captivating that prevents her from lying now. The lenses enhance the Y/E/C eyes, making them more penetrating, as if she could see into the soul through them. The sight makes the older's heart race and her palms sweat, having to concentrate not to let it show, let alone appear enchanted.
"Do you wear glasses?"
"Yes, for years, but I was trying to get used to contact lenses." the newbie says, adjusting the frame correctly, sighing with relief "Which turned out to be a disaster."
"They look... good on you." she comments, trying to sound casual and not too anxious, failing miserably as she stares "Your eyes are beautiful."
"Thank you!" Y/N finally lifts her face and catches the queen bee with a simple glance behind the lens along with the amused smile, rare occasion, the same one Janis gets "But they don't work."
Regina laughs at the witty response, finding her perspicacity and humor interesting, very different from what surrounds her in everyday life. She's not afraid to make a joke about herself, when any of the trio would rather fight a bear than do such a thing, making themselves the material for silly and light-hearted jokes. Y/N seems to be completely oblivious to the effect she is causing, Regina's flushed cheeks being nothing more than the result of the warm weather, the friendly laughter aimed at everyone and the hospitality something routine, perhaps an apology for the not so pleasant first meeting. All the compliments, overly embellished and full of hidden intentions, simple acts of politeness, so she remains unaffected and continues to read the manuscripts, without giving the blonde what she so desperately wants.
"You know, the text isn't going to write itself." she laughs and points to the long-forgotten laptop "And I've already made it clear that I'm not going to do everything myself."
With a disbelieving nod, Regina goes back to work, trying to ignore the signals her own body gives off in the presence of the other. It's hard not to be affected by the sweet perfume emanating from inviting skin, the taste of ice cream she wants to try again, the way she seems so at ease and unimpressed in her house, lips puckering as she encounters a paragraph incomprehensible at first reading and now pushing up the stubborn glasses that insist on slipping down her nose. God, all of this is messing with Regina's head in a way she can't explain, there are no plans that could infiltrate all the sinful thoughts that invade her with this privileged view.
She forces herself to concentrate on the task in hand, which tingles as she feels their arms lightly touching, but a part of her desperately craves more of these moments of closeness, even if it means ignoring the voice of reason that screams in her mind that she's not a dyke and wouldn't be for Y/N. It's just a fucking plan. Nothing more than that.
Taglist: @reginassweetheart @chaengluva @avelynpye @bianchiniomg @royalityofmultifandom @lottiematthewsceo @notjaexiee @mayles @l1lass @bridkesby @newyork1432
Join my taglist here ^^
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zapreportsblog · 10 months
Note
Can you do a Paul Lahote X reader
Where it’s based off in New Moon
Bella and their sibling Reader go visit the pack after Bella found out about shifters (Thanks ti Paul shifting from anger).
And since Bella already told her sibling about the Cullens being Vampires, obviously she would tell them about Jacob and the rez being shifters.
And it fast forwards to Bella and Reader to officially meet the pack. When the two meets the pack Reader makes eye contact with Paul Lahote which causes Paul to imprint.
P.s. im pretty sure the pack can tell when someone imprints.
❝imprint❞
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✭ pairing : paul lahote x reader
✭ fandom : twilight
✭ summary : (y/n) is the sister of Bella swan, when Jacob begins ignoring Bella, Bella takes it upon herself to find out and like always when trouble arrises where one swan goes the other swan isn’t to far behind
✭ authors note : firstly the girls picture I used looked so similar to Bella to me that I just had to use that specific one
✭ twilight masterlist
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Bella Swan had reached her breaking point. For weeks now, Jacob Black had been ignoring her, leaving her with a heartache that seemed to grow with each passing day. Desperate for answers, Bella decided it was time to confront him, even if it meant dragging her sister (Y/N) along with her.
The two sisters made their way to the Quileute reservation, where Jacob and his pack resided. As they arrived, Bella couldn't help but notice Paul Lahote and a few other boys standing outside. Determined, she approached them, her eyes scanning the group in search of Jacob.
"Hey," Bella called out, her voice laced with frustration. "Where's Jacob?"
Paul smirked, his eyes narrowing. "Why do you care? He's clearly moved on."
Bella's heart sank at Paul's words, but she refused to back down. "I deserve an explanation. We were friends, and he's been avoiding me for no reason."
The other boys exchanged glances, refusing to meet Bella's gaze. It was clear they were hiding something, but they weren't willing to share the truth.
(Y/N) had been waiting patiently in the car, but a sudden unease washed over her. Trusting her instincts, she stepped out and made her way towards Bella, unaware of the events that were about to unfold.
Paul's rude comment about Jacob pushed Bella over the edge. Without thinking, she slapped him across the face, the sound echoing through the quiet reservation.
Paul's body trembled, his expression contorting in pain. In an instant, he transformed into a massive wolf, his fur bristling with anger. Panic surged through Bella's veins, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the creature before her.
(Y/N) sprinted towards them, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't let her sister face this danger alone. Just as she reached them, Jacob burst onto the scene, his own transformation complete.
"Bella, move!" Jacob's voice was urgent, filled with concern for her safety. He lunged at Paul, a fierce growl erupting from his throat.
(Y/N) found herself locking eyes with Paul, their gaze holding for a brief moment. And in that instant, everything changed. Paul's anger evaporated, replaced by a look of wonder and awe.
He imprinted on her.
Paul saw their future together, a life filled with love and happiness. He saw them dating, getting married, and even raising a child together. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his newfound emotions, Paul turned and disappeared into the depths of the surrounding woods, still in his wolf form.
As the dust settled, Jacob's eyes softened, his focus shifting from Paul to Bella. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched into his voice.
Bella nodded, speechless, her eyes filled with a mix of confusion and relief. But it was (Y/N) who held the weight of the revelation, her mind swirling with the implications of what had just occurred.
Jacob, his eyes filled with remorse and determination, took a deep breath before speaking. "I owe you an explanation, Bella. And (Y/N), I'm sorry you got dragged into this mess. But if you're willing to listen, there's a gathering tonight at the beach, we’re having barn fire. You'll hear the truth there."
Bella glanced at her sister, who nodded in agreement, her curiosity piqued. They both knew that this was their chance to finally uncover the secrets that had been shrouding Jacob and his pack.
As evening fell, Bella and (Y/N) made their way to the barn, their hearts pounding with anticipation. The sound of crackling fire and laughter filled the air, as the Quileute tribe and the pack celebrated their ancestral traditions.
Jacob approached them, his eyes sincere. "Thank you for coming. I promise, I'll explain everything."
The sisters found a spot near the fire, surrounded by the members of the pack and the Quileute tribe. Jacob stood at the center, his voice carrying through the crowd as he recounted the legends of their people.
He spoke of the Quileute tribe's ancient connection to the wolf spirit, and how some members of the tribe possessed the ability to transform into powerful, enormous wolves. He revealed the long-standing feud between his pack and the Cullens, the "cold ones" as they were known, who were vampires.
As Jacob spoke, Bella and (Y/N) listened intently, their eyes widening with each revelation. They were captivated by the tales of their battles against the Cullens, how they protected their land and loved ones from the vampire threat.
Paul, who had been nearby, approached (Y/N) cautiously after Jacob finished his story. "Can we talk?" he asked, his voice laced with a mix of hope and uncertainty.
(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to expect. But something in Paul's eyes told her that he genuinely wanted to connect with her, to explain the strange imprinting bond that had formed between them.
She nodded, and the two of them stepped away from the gathering, finding a quiet spot where they could talk undisturbed.
Paul took a deep breath, his eyes searching (Y/N)'s face. "I never expected this to happen," he began. "Imprinting is a powerful force, one that we can't control. It's like an instant, unbreakable bond that forms between two people."
(Y/N) listened, her heart pounding with a mix of confusion and curiosity. She had heard of imprinting before, but experiencing it firsthand was an entirely different matter.
Paul continued, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and vulnerability. "When I looked into your eyes, I saw our future together. I saw us dating, getting married, and even having a child. It scared me at first, but now, I can't deny the pull I feel towards you."
(Y/N)'s mind raced, trying to process the enormity of what Paul was saying. She had only just met him, and yet, this supernatural bond had formed between them. She couldn't deny the connection she felt, the strange familiarity that seemed to draw her towards him.
"I don't know what this means for us," Paul admitted, his expression earnest. "But I want to figure it out, if you're willing."
(Y/N) took a moment to gather her thoughts, her gaze meeting Paul's. "I don't understand it fully either," she confessed. "But I'm willing to explore this connection, to see where it leads."
A smile tugged at the corners of Paul's lips, relief washing over his features. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude.
As they rejoined the gathering, Bella and (Y/N) felt a sense of newfound understanding and acceptance. The truth had been revealed, and their lives would never be the same again. They were embarking on a journey into a world of supernatural beings, where love, loyalty, and destiny intertwined in ways they could never have imagined.
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monster-disaster · 9 months
Text
[elf] Everen
elf!Everen x human!Reader Good to know: smut
Summary: Your boss demands you to go after him into the woods.
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For long seconds, the ringing of your phone seems unreal and far away. It needs time to break through your dreams, and when it does, you can't help but groan into the darkness of your room. You are disoriented and confused. Your phone doesn't stop vibrating on the nightstand next to you. The bluish light of the screen illuminates the ceiling. It blinds you for a second as you turn on your back and grab the small device. You have to force yourself to stay awake even though tears gather and escape from the corner of your eyes because of the sudden light. You can barely see the picture of your boss with his name at the bottom. You groan again.
"Mad?" His voice breaks the silence of your room. You can see him frowning on the screen. His thick, almost white brows cause a deep wrinkle between them. "It's me," you croak out. You don't even have enough energy to react to the stupid nickname he gave you years ago. Reaching out for the small lamp, you turn it on. "Did I wake you?" You glance up at the clock in the corner of your phone. It's almost one o'clock. "What do you think?" "You look like shit." "What do you want, Everen?" You ask him impatiently. Your voice is still hoarse with sleep but more steady and strict. "I need you to come here." Long seconds pass in silence before you snap. "What do you want now?" "I'm going crazy here," he says, looking around wherever he is. The only thing you can see behind him is a window with curtains. "You can't be serious," you breathe out your frustration. "You are barely there for twelve hours." "So?" You groan. "Then come home!" "I can't," he argues. "I need this." "Then why do you want me there?" You snap at him again. "You are my personal assistant, no?" He asks. "You have to do what I say." Your resignation is at the tip of your tongue, but you gulp it down at the last moment. "You are five hours away, Everen. You can't be serious." "Do I look like I'm joking?" He asks back. You don't even have to look at him to know he is not joking. You are not even sure if he can do that. "You can be here by the morning." You have to close your eyes to keep your calm. "I arrive when I arrive!" "Fine," he grunts, and you end the call.
Fucking unbelievable!
You met Everen when you finished college. He needed someone he could order around, and you needed a job to keep a roof over your head. It was a match made in hell.
The elf writes fantasy. And he is good at them. Really good. He is popular, and his books are bestsellers. Everen is lucky his personality doesn't show on the pages. He is headstrong, mean, and spoiled. Most of the time, you feel like a babysitter.
At first, he only used you to get him coffee, do his shopping, and keep in contact with his publisher, so he didn't have to. As the years went by, he asked for, or demanded, help with his stories. Read them and give them your honest opinion. Point out the mistakes and drag down his ego. Well, he didn't ask for the latter, but you like to do it nonetheless. Besides the salary, this is the only perk of your job.
After sleeping for a few hours more, you pack your things and begin your journey to Ironridge.
Everen decided to turn his back on the city when two months passed without him writing anything. The elf is sure he only needs some solitude and nature to clear his head and finish his book in time. There are two problems, though: he hates being alone, and he has no survival skills in nature, even though you know there is a town just a ride away, and he has a perfectly good cabin in the woods.
"What?" You ask him when you get out of the car, and Everen just stares at you without a word. He sits on the porch with a mug in his hands. "You are here," he states, and you freeze. "You asked me to come, remember?" Gods, if he says he wasn't serious you will kill him. Nobody knows you are here, and the forest is big enough to hide his body. Everen scoffs. "Of course, I remember!" "Good," you nod, grabbing your things to take them into the house. As you stop next to him in front of the entrance of the cabin, you notice what he wears. His boots are too new and useless for the woods, and his jeans are too tight to be comfortable. The red flannel shirt is something you never thought you would see on him. "You look ridiculous," you tell him before disappearing into the house.
The place is small. There is barely enough space for a kitchen and a living room with a couch and fireplace. The bathroom and the bedroom are next to each other at the back.
Oh, right, where are you going to sleep?
"The couch is comfortable," Everen says from behind you.
Right. Of course.
"Always a gentleman."
After putting down your things and grabbing a mug to pour yourself some coffee, you turn your attention back to the elf. "So, what did you do yesterday?" You ask him. "Did you write something or go for a walk?" He looks at you like you are crazy. "For a walk? Outside?" "Yes," you nod, and when the expression on his chiseled face doesn't change, you groan. "Why are we even here if you don't go out?" "To be close to nature." You will kill him. Nobody will know. "Next time just by a fucking plant!" "You are not really nice," he states. "Did you sleep enough?" For seconds, you just stare at him without blinking. "I wrote a few pages yesterday," he adds when he decides to change the topic for safety reasons. "Do you want to read it?" "Do you want to show them to me?" There are times when Everet is really cautious with his work, and despite your odd relationship with him, you don't want to make him do things he doesn't want to. His books and his career are really important to him, and you respect them.
Without saying anything, the elf nods at the laptop on the couch, and you sit down to read it. Long minutes pass by while you focus on the screen, and Everen walks back and forth behind you. His platinum-blonde hair is tied back with a leather stripe. The long, straight locks almost reach his slim waist.
"Holyshit," you break the silence. The elf stops and leans over the back of the couch to see the screen in your lap. The pillow behind your back sinks under his weight. "So?" He asks urgently. "What do you think?" "Since when do you write erotica?" "The publisher told me to spice things up," he explains. "He says it's popular." You frown. "Your books are popular." Everen shrugs. "Is it really that bad?" "It's so dry," you tell him. You can see he doesn't like the publisher's instructions, either, so you try to be nicer than usual. Now you understand why he got stuck with his book. "And you used "member" at least twenty times. It's not a rock band, Everen, it's a dick." You don't even have to look back at him to know he is offended. You just notice it from the way his breathing changes. "Can you do better?" "I mean…" you shrug. "I could give it a try." You are not a writer and don't want to be one, but you can clearly see what's wrong with his work. "Then be my guest," he says. "Do your best."
You spend the next few hours on the couch, adjusting and changing things you don't like in the scene. The only noise in the small cabin is the keyboard's clattering as you write. Sometimes you hear Everen do something in the house, mostly making coffee after coffee. He is lucky elves don't tend to get heart attacks.
"Are you writing a whole book?" He asks impatiently. "I didn't ask you to change the whole book." Rolling your eyes, you push the laptop onto the couch from your lap to stand up. "I'm done," you tell him. "Read it if you want."
While your boss busies himself with the book, you go out with another drink to enjoy some peace and fresh air. You feel even more tired than you arrived. You settle into the rocking chair Everen used when you arrived. The wooden floorboards feel solid beneath your feet as you rock back and forth ever so slowly. As you sip your coffee, your gaze wanders into the woods. Towering trees sway gently in the gentle summer breeze. The sunlight filters through the canopy above, casting a dappled pattern of light and shadow on the lush greenery. The air smells like pine, damp earth, and wildflowers, mixing with the coffee in your hands. Birdsong fills the quietness, a symphony of chirps and trills.
Usually, you prefer the loud business of the city, but if you have to be honest, this is good too. Your only problem is…
Everen almost bursts out of the house. His handsome face is cold and strict. Something burns in his eyes, but you don't recognize what.
"How did you do this?" He demands for an answer. You shrug, sipping from your coffee. "I have a soul." Everen's frown deepens. "I have that too!" "I don't know what to say," you reply. "Did you do that before?" "You mean writing a sex scene?" You ask. "No." "No," he shakes his head. "The scene itself." You almost laugh. "Of course I did." A light blush spreads across his cheeks, and a nagging feeling starts to eat the back of your mind. "You didn't?" His blush deepens. "Does it matter?" "I mean, no," you reply. "But it's really… vanilla." "For who?" "For me? And for a bunch of other people?" "Well," he grunts. "I want it too." You freeze. The swaying of the chair under you stops. "I'm not sure what you want me to do," you break the momentary silence after a while. The words leave your lips slowly and carefully. "I want you to sit on my face," he says. "How hard can it be?" At the word hard, your gaze falls down on the obvious bulge between his thighs. Seeing his erection trapped in his jeans, the new shine in his dark eyes suddenly makes sense. "You got horny because of…-" you point back at the cabin. Surprise shows on your face as your brows draw up in shock. "So what?" He acts like an upset kid. "I'm just surprised you feel anything besides anger," you tell him. Everen just grimaces. "You are funny." His snarky comment makes you think of his request again. Or demand. "So?" He asks impatiently. "Are you coming?" "You mean, right now?" "What do you want me to do? Take you out to pick berries?" He waves at the forest surrounding you. How many times did you imagine shutting him up since your work for him? You can't even count it. "Fine," you grunt, standing up from your seat. The chair creaks at your sudden movement.
Anything to shut him up finally.
"So, what do you want me to do?" He asks when you lead him to the bedroom. It's a mess. His clothes are all over the place, poured out of his bags, and the blanket is halfway down on the ground. "Well," you grunt, looking around. "You could clean up." He stares at you. "You are really wild in bed." "Just shut up!" "Make me!"
Fine!
"Then take off your clothes," you tell him. "Will you do it too?" He asks, staring to unbutton his shirt. You feel glad when the flannel falls off his shoulders. It really did look horrible on him. "Do you want me?" You ask him. "Naked, I mean." "How will I eat your pussy otherwise?"
Maybe this is a good step. Both of you get over the awkwardness first, so you can move on and enjoy whatever happens next. And still. You feel nothing but impatience and excitement. Your gaze rakes over Everen's naked body. Over the line of his shoulders, the light muscles on his chest and abdomen, and the V line that leads you to his cock between his thighs. He is tall and lean. His posture is confident as he stands beside the bed, watching you. His eyes burn your skin as he looks over you. Your nipples harden into small peaks under his heavy stare. "Are you still angry because you had to come here?" He breaks the silence. The elf doesn't even try to hide the fact that he can't tear his eyes away from your breasts. "Just lay down."
When he does as you say, for once, you are ready to climb up on him when a question stops you. "How do you want me?" You eye his erection. "Do you want me to suck you?" A pained grunt escapes the back of his throat. His cock jerks under your gaze. "I take it as a yes," you grin, getting into position with his hands on your thighs. Everen's long fingers squeeze your flesh, urging you to hurry up. You hover just beyond his reach. His warm breath fans over your wet center. "What did you not understand?" He asks after a few seconds. "I said, sit!" And with that, he pushes you down on his face. You don't even have a chance to keep your balance under his tight hold.
Your moans mix in the quiet room as his tongue licks over your pussy. Everen nibs and sucks on you, exploring your aching wetness. His fingers dig into your thighs, pushing you down even more. "Everen!" You cry out his name in shock. His tongue slides through your pussy, lapping at your juices. His face is already soaked. His senses are filled with your taste and scent. He breathes you in, driving himself to delirium. Your thighs shake at the sides of his head. You try to keep your balance, rocking into him and grinding your pussy against his face. You aren't even sure if the elf under you can breathe, but at this point, you don't even care. Your chase your own pleasure, and the only thing that can keep you afloat is his cock not far from you. It twitches every now and again, and pre-cum runs down on his shaft and a bluish vein under the soft, pale skin. Licking your lips, you lean over his chest. Your nipples graze his upper body.
A dissatisfied grunt vibrates over your pussy, sending shivers up your spine when you lift yourself up from his face. "I didn't tell you to move," he grunts. A breathless grin spreads across your face. "Are you sure?" Your fingers curl around his cock, smoothing up and down on his length. "Fuck!" Everen growls, pulling your back onto his lips. His hips thrust up to fuck your fist. "If I had known I could shut you up like this, I would have done it sooner," you tell him, still grinning. Your words are airy, but the snarkiness still rings clearly. Everen says something you don't understand, and the next moment, a startled cry escapes your lips as your world spins with you in the middle. He finds your entrance. He laps at the juices flowing from your pussy before his tongue plunges into your hole. Your legs quiver at the new feeling. Your muscles twitch and flex as your boss pushes you higher and higher. Your hand around his cock is sloppy. You can barely focus on anything besides his tongue in you. Your walls flutter and pulse around him as he fucks you. Both of you are soaked with your wetness and his saliva. "I'm going to cum," you cry out when you feel the first spasms in your lower abdomen. It strikes through your body, sending stars behind your eyelids as you press yourself even more firmly against his face.
You cum, and he licks up everything you have to offer. And he doesn't stop even when you try to get up. "Oh, no," he growls with a deep laugh. The rumbles shake through your sensitive, throbbing cunt. "I'm not done with this pussy yet." He doesn't let you move. He doesn't let you escape. "Oh, fuck! Everen!" You are so busy with your own body you don't even notice your grip on his cock tightening until you feel him jerk and cum in your hand. His hips push up even more, and his moans and groans shake your body. His tongue strokes into you, licking deep. He devours you with a newfound elan, and you can do nothing but grind against him until you feel your orgasm approaching again. Your breathing gets ragged, mixing with cries and screams. Your over-sensitive pussy sends you over the edge within a few minutes.
When your mind clears a bit, you are already on the bed next to Everen. His hand shamelessly gropes your tits, and his hard cock nudges your thigh. His breath is warm on the curve of your neck. "Have any other ideas for the book?"
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chronicbeans · 4 months
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Romantic Lucifer x Maladaptive Daydreamer, Sinner Reader
Not me self-projecting or anything 👀. Plus I love the whole "dreamer and broken dreamer" dynamic I can make with this, even if it isn't the same type of dreams. This is based on my own experiences, but I'm trying to make it more generalized lol.
TW: Maladaptive daydreaming, mentions of depression and anxiety, escapism and dissociation, poor self-care from forgetting, fear of disappointment and disappointing others
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• You probably met him at the Hazbin Hotel, to be honest. Normally, he wouldn't even look at a sinner. You're also not outwardly that different, either. The only thing that he might notice is that your eyes always look a bit distant, but he'd probably not question it. Why have a conversation with someone who is not present and in the moment?
• Charlie would have to introduce you, too. As said before, he wouldn't see the reason to talk to someone who doesn't seem to be paying attention. If Charlie wants him to talk to you, though, he'd do so. He wants a closer relationship with his daughter, and if simply introducing himself to you makes her happy, he would! Though, he is shocked to hear you are, according to her, an interesting person to talk to.
• So, he follows her over to you, all while she's saying "(Y/N), this is my dad, Lucifer! Dad, this is (Y/N), a guest at the hotel! They're a bit spacey, but they're trying their best... They're pretty unique, too! I'm sure you both will get along!"
• Once he gets a closer look at you... yes... you're very unique, to say the least. You look a little disheveled, but at the same time, like you're trying to look presentable. The look in your eyes also seems to flicker between paying attention and drifting off into your own head as he talks. When you respond, though, it sounds like you're at least retaining the basic information of the conversation.
• It takes a long time for him to actually become interested in spending time with you. Sure, you're an odd sinner, but still a sinner, and sinners are the worst in his opinion. However, he does visit the hotel every now and again to check in on Charlie in person. He's realized that calling her is not helping them get closer, even if he's still a bit confused as to why, so he's been visiting in person. Over time, he begins to notice odd things you do...
• You usually sit in the lobby, with a few other sinners, but don't talk to them often. Instead, you just sit there, making odd facial expressions every now and then. At first, he just assumed it was you reacting to the conversations the others were having, until he realized many of your expressions don't fit the topics. They'd be talking about exterminations, while you look calm, or about a pleasant event, with you looking sad or angry. Then, they'd be talking about fashion, and you'd look mortified. This sort of behavior interests Lucifer... You aren't like any other sinner he's seen. He, honestly, probably just assumes you're hallucinating or something. He'd rather ask Charlie, though.
• Unfortunately, she doesn't give away much about you. Something along the lines of "not wanting to talk to much about someone's personal problems without their consent", or whatever. He understands, but come on! He's her dad! A little gossip would be better than what he sees as a long silence between them. She does assure him, though, that you are not hallucinating. That, and she pushes him to interact with you, saying that his perception on sinners might change if he talks to some of the ones at the hotel.
• It's something that frustrates him... however, he pushes himself to do so. Anything for Charlie. Though, to him, it feels less like he wants his views to change and more like she's trying to to avoid talking to him. She never calls, after all... He still tries talking to you, though, and every time you seem extremely distant. That same flickering attention and that same disheveled look. Though, you definitely look worse than when Charlie called him to visit the first time, probably because you were caught on a regular day.
• You do make a few interesting statements, though. Mentions of days flying by fast, barely remembering parts of your life, a journal Charlie recommended you begin writing... Now you're getting interesting! Like a little mystery. He wants to figure you out.
• He'll try prying to get you to speak about yourself. What was your life as a human like? What were your sins, or biggest sin? Why do you look so... distant, all the time? Give him an answer! He'll take what he can get, and won't get upset.
• Daydreaming. That's the answer you give for looking distant. You don't really explain your answer, as if it should speak for itself. Though, you do mention that you're aware it's a "big problem", at this point. Dreaming... ugh... He doesn't even like the word, at this point, even if your type of dreaming isn't the same as his.
• You don't seem to want to tell him what you daydream about, outside of saying it's the types of things you can write a book about, instead of a simple self-fulfilling fantasy. You've got him hooked, now. This mystery has shifted gears. No longer is he as interested in you in general. Instead, your dreams are what he must know about. Which, granted, they probably will tell him a lot about you if they're so personal that you won't tell him.
• Whenever he spots you writing, he tries to sneakily look over your shoulder to read it. Usually, though, you spot him walking over before he can even try and close your journal. You do the same when anybody else walks by... except for Charlie. It honestly doesn't surprise him, since most everybody in the hotel seems to trust her, to some extent. He's just so frustrated. He wants to know more, but you won't say a thing, and Charlie won't, either!
• So, he decides to bite the bullet, and ask Charlie for help. Not the answers to his brewing questions, but instead about things you like. Interests the two of you might share with one another. Surprisingly, he learns that you and him share a lot more in common than he'd have expected a sinner to...
•He decides to try to talk to you about music, instead. What types of music do you like? Can you play an instrument? Do you have a favorite song, perhaps? The entire conversation is fascinating. Do you want him to play you a song, sometime? He'll be sure to bring an instrument the next time he visits.
• Once you do, eventually, listen to his music, he's absolutely entrance by the way you react to it. He's never really bothered to take notice of how you react listening to music before, assuming it's just like anyone else. He should've known that wasn't the case. Instead of a smile, or an attentive gaze, you're completely zoned out. Your expression is dull, which he'd normally be offended by, but he's quick to put it all together, now. That distant look isn't necessarily boredom or a disliking of the music... It's a dreamy look. You're daydreaming to his music. It only becomes more obvious once he changes the tones and your expression changes a bit, as if your daydream is changing alongside it. He's seen people dance, he's seen people sing, he's seen many types of reactions to music. However, to sit there and daydream is one he hasn't seen... At least, not so obviously and intensely.
• He doesn't want to embarrass you, so once he finishes playing his song, he won't mention it to you. He'll simply ask if you liked the song or not, then ask why. He'll slightly giggle, though, if you call it something along the lines of "inspiring" or "thought-provoking". A tiny little hint that he's slowly figuring out what is happening.
• Alongside your reactions to music, he does notice other things. Such as how sometimes, when he walks by your room in the hotel, he can hear the sounds of constant footsteps from behind the closed door. Sometimes he even hears tiny whispers, too, which sounds like your voice. Again, he doesn't say a word. If you're so secretive about such things, he won't pry... Which he, himself, is finding a tiny bit odd. He usually doesn't hold a sinner's privacy to such high regard, under the idea that he's King and needs to know what is happening... That, and his own anxieties making him feel the need to know as much as possible... But, for you, he's becoming a bit more aware of how odd that behavior can be when brought to a certain degree.
• So, he waits for you to tell him about it, yourself. And once you do, mentioning your little prancing, pacing, and your slight habit to act out your daydreams, he's ecstatic! For one, he's earned your trust enough for you to tell him such a thing. The other reason is that he has an idea! Why don't you try dressing up as the characters? It'd be an interesting way to engage in it. He's a musical man, he's probably heard of musicals, if not been in one! He could try getting you an outfit. If you don't want to, though, he's fine with it. It might be strange, after all...
• It takes a while, but soon, you both become close friends. Close enough that he's probably talked to you about feeling a bit lost and depressed, feeling very anxious for Charlie's well-being... In which case, he's probably a bit shocked to hear you relay the fact that, similarly, you are lost. Be it you feel depressed and or anxious, as well, or perhaps it's because you can't stop daydreaming. Either way, you let him know you feel similar, and he's shocked. He's always kind of assumed you daydreaming would help you escape from those types of feelings, not contribute to or possibly cause them.
• He listens more to your concerns and worries... and he relates more than he'd like to admit, in certain situations. Dissociation? You both kind of do it, in your own ways. Your daydreaming, you mentioned, might be that. You've never gotten checked, though, because therapists in Hell aren't the best. He knows all too well that he dissociates, from time to time, because Lilith pointed it out to him shortly before she left to do... whatever she's doing. You both forget to take care of yourselves, in your own ways. You daydreaming for so long, causing time to fly, and eventually forgetting whatever you forget... And him working on his rubber ducks to cope, focusing too much, and forgetting to do whatever it is he needed to do.
• He does get worried for you, and you probably get worried for him, as well. However, while he's not so sure about you, he's taking his worries for you and his daughter to try to better himself... Though, with you and him sharing things in common, he sees you as being a big reason to specifically better his mental health while Charlie is his reason to try to be a better father. How can he provide any sort of help to you when he's suffering, himself? Any advice would either, in his opinion, be bad, or be good but seem bad from the hypocrisy of him not following his own advice. So, he's got to help himself, yeah? He can do it all on his own, too! Watch him! He's not going to burden anybody else!
• Yeah, no. He's failed. Now, he feels worse. Luckily, though, you're there for him to go to! He would go to Charlie... But, he doesn't want to burden her with it. Quite frankly, he doesn't want to talk to you, either, but you can at least relate to him a bit. That, and he knows that keeping it all in is a part of what's made him feel horrible. So, again, you have your talks about life together... You mention your problems and he mentions his. You give him advice. Pretty good advice, actually. He gives you small tips on a few things to make life easier. Then, as always, the conversation shifts to happier topics. What made you happy, recently? Did you have any nice food today? Stuff like that.
• Though, one day, you seem to be thinking about something. You look from him, to nothing, then back to him almost on a loop. He simply assumes it's one of your daydreams, and instead speaks about whatever comes to his mind, being patient with you. From how his relationship with his daughter and her girlfriend is going along, how his rubber duck creation is going, to what he thinks of a few of the other guests at the hotel. However, he is a bit shocked when you begin speaking, very suddenly.
• You start talking about a seemingly random daydream you had, recently. Beautiful music, nice outfits, fun dances... You describe a scene of you dancing with someone on a glorious night. However, you don't say who it is you're dancing with. You just describe a beautiful scenario, which is about you dancing with someone. When he asks who it is, after you finish talking, you kind of just stare at him awkwardly.
• It takes him a few moments, then once it hits him, he begins to laugh hysterically in disbelief. No. You couldn't possibly be implying it was him! Once you outright say it, and add that you love him as more than a friend, though, he's both ecstatic and terrified. He feels the same way, yes, but he knows he has his own set of problems he'd be adding into your life if he got with you... And then you start talking about how you are worried you'd make him feel bad, as you know that your daydreams can hype up future events, like dates and such, to an unachievable expectation... then everything is disappointing, despite it being perfectly fine.
• He, however, wants to change that... or, at least your outlook on it. He will happily hold out his hand and admit that he feels the same. He feels the same love for you, the same worries for the future, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth trying. Just because something wasn't to your expectations, doesn't make it bad, yeah? Once you realize that you still had fun, you'll learn to still enjoy your life, even if it'll never live up to your daydreams.
• That's how you two began dating. You're both used to helping each other through rough times, and comforting each other, so there wasn't really a big adjustment period of having to learn to do so. Instead, the first few months were spent on sweet dates, as well as helping you with your daydreams causing expectations that can't be met. As each date goes by, he asks if you had fun, even if it wasn't all you dreamed up to be. As you realize how often you say "yes", you begin to feel much more confident that everything will be fine and doesn't need to be perfect.
• He's gotten into a little habit of planning a secret date or surprise every once in a while. That way, you don't have the chance to build up such high expectations of what it'd be like. You'll come home to see that he's made the most delicious looking dinner buffet, and spread it out over his dining table. Or, you'll come home, and he'll say that he wants to take you out to go dancing somewhere. Small little surprises.
• He's going to make a rubber duckling based on you. Or two. Or three... Or twelve dozen. He can think of so many designs based on your lovely stories. He knows that he shouldn't feed into the habit, and he's actively doing his best not to, but he wants to show you that you can create beautiful artwork with your daydreams. Music, paintings, books, plays... If you find that you can't daydream less, you can try to at least transform them into a real, tangible thing that others can see or hear. His duckies are just an example of that.
• He sometimes wishes he could create something that catches your attention more than your daydreams, but he can also understand that you may not have complete control of it. So, instead, he'll try to gently get your attention if he needs you, just wants your attention, or wants to remind you of something you need to do. Be it a little tap on your shoulder, him calling your name, or walking into your field of view and doing something silly.
• He's sure to check in on you daily, asking if you've been making sure to take care of yourself. Did you eat today? Did you take a shower? Did you drink a glass of water? You gotta stay hydrated! In return, whenever you can, you do the same for him. You both take care of each other as best you can.
• If you're one of those daydreamers who has trouble falling asleep because your brain won't turn off, he'll do whatever he can to at least help you relax. He'll cuddle you, try humming a little soft tune, or get you something to drink to help you relax a little.
• Sometimes, although he'd never admit it, he's a little jealous of your daydreaming. Yes, he's aware the grass is always greener on the other side, and that's why he wouldn't say it. He knows you'll chew him out and reminding him of the issues it's caused you. He can see them, so you don't really have to remind him. He's just... missed the feeling of having such an imaginative mind. Sure, he still has had one. Ever since he was dropped into Hell, it's been a bit harder to do so... then, once Lilith left, it has gotten worse. He's been a bit too depressed to dream...
• Though, he knows that you can dream enough for the both of you, and that you'll happily share ones you think will cheer him up. He loves you for how much you've reminded him of the importance of dreaming... Just, in moderation. He'll be there to ground you, whenever you need it.
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silverynight · 2 months
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Dynamight's type
Izuku has noticed that whenever someone asks Katsuki's certain questions during interviews he gets really irritated; it's usually things about love and relationships that bother him the most.
It's one of the many reasons why Izuku hasn't told his best friend he likes him romantically; maybe Katsuki is not interested in romance at all or he just hates sharing his love life with the world.
Although it's not like Izuku ever thought he had a chance; he probably doesn't. Sometimes he thinks about looking for someone to start a relationship with.
"Let's move in together," Katsuki tells him for the... actually, Izuku has lost count of how many times he has told him that.
But Izuku always thinks he doesn't mean it because it doesn't make sense.
"Why?"
"Just because..." Katsuki says this time, looking particularly frustrated.
"We don't have the need to," Izuku points out, getting a little bit confused by his friend's response.
"I know."
"Kacchan... what if one of us starts dating soon? Wouldn't that be–"
The look Katsuki throws at him is enough to make Izuku shut up immediately; the other pro hero not only looks angry, he also seems hurt.
"Are you seeing someone?" The way Katsuki asks the question makes it look like each word is hurting him somehow.
"No, but–"
"I'm not going to start dating an extra!" Katsuki growls and, as usual, he walks away more irritated than when the day started.
Izuku honestly doesn't get it.
However, he usually goes back to normal when his patrol begins.
Until a reporter finds him after an incident; just right the moment after Katsuki and Izuku manage to save a group of people from a villain.
Actually, there are a couple of reporters, one of them even tries to corner Izuku and instead of asking him about the villain or the civilians, she asks Izuku about romance.
Alright, Izuku has started to get why Katsuki gets irritated at those type of questions.
"Are you dating someone at the moment, Deku?" The young woman asks, smiling at him and using one of her fingers to play with her own hair.
Izuku doesn't understand; is she nervous?
"Uhh... no."
"That's great!"
Not that far from him, one of the reporters is asking about Katsuki's type... again.
"So what would your ideal date be, Deku?" The reporter manages to draw Izuku's attention away from his friend.
"Maybe an amusement park? Sharing a crepe?" The green haired hero doesn't mean to make it sound like a question, but interviews always make him feel flustered.
"That'd be a perfect date for me too!" The girl says. "Would you like to–"
"DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW MY FUCKING TYPE?" Katsuki's loud voice cuts off the reporter who's interviewing Izuku.
"Of course, Dynamight!" It's a good thing most of the reporters are used to Katsuki's explosive personality already.
Instead of answering right away, Katsuki gets closer to Izuku and to everyone's surprise, grabs the other pro hero's freckled face and kisses him on the lips.
"There. That's my type!" Katsuki growls as Izuku's face turns completely pink. "Him. Only this nerd. Now, fuck off!"
The female reporter who was asking Izuku questions looks particularly upset about what happened, although it seems like she's a little bit reluctant to go... but she does anyway when she notices Katsuki is glaring at her.
Izuku doesn't get his hopes up, because it's obvious that Katsuki only wanted them to stop asking questions about his love life.
"But Kacchan... they're going to think we are–"
"Move in with me."
"Why?"
It feels like this is not the moment to have the same conversation all over again, but there's something different in Katsuki's eyes this time; he looks determined.
"Because I'm in love with you, oblivious nerd!"
Izuku's face is on fire, he's sure of it; Katsuki just told him he loved him. It almost seems like it's a dream.
"Are you sure, Kacchan?" His voice doesn't sound shaky at all, which is something Izuku feels ridiculously proud of.
"Of course I am! Wouldn't be asking you if I wasn't!"
After a heartbeat in which Izuku thinks about all the time they've been together and tells himself this is going to work, he nods.
"Let's move in together, Kacchan."
Just a year later, Katsuki proposes to him and of course, Izuku can't help but tear up. He's never been so happy before.
***
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tink27 · 6 months
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Steddie ficlet (might do a follow up to show Eddie's reaction)
"He likes a boy"
after years of friendship, and being joined at the proverbial hip, Robin liked to think she could read Steve pretty well, however, his love of being just vague enough to confuse her made this difficult.
"who likes a what now?" still trying to get a read on Steve's feelings, but as of right now he just seemed, disconnected. Since showing up unexpectedly at her house, he had maintained that far-away sort of look that showed that even Steve didn't know what he was feeling.
"Eddie... he... we were hanging out and he" finally he fully met Robin's gaze, and the heartbroken edge to his vacant stare became evident "he was implying, heavily, that he likes me"
"... likes likes you?"
Steve's expression briefly switched to mocking disbelief at her childish choice of words, but he didn't have the energy for any kind of clever retort
"Yes Robin! like likes me!" throwing up his hands before allowing them to smack down against their Jeans ("their" because they fit them both and had been making the rotation between both Steve and Robin's wardrobe for months, she wasn't entirely sure who they belonged to to begin with, not that it mattered)
"And you're... upset?" This was baffling because in the months since Eddie returned for the upside-down, the two had never been closer. Far too many shifts consisted of Steve waxing poetic about Eddie while Robin vaguely tried to relate and be supportive. Although why Steve seemed so utterly smitten as he talked about Eddie's hair or musical elitism would never really make sense to Robin. But still, she saw how they were together.
Steve had a bad track record for love, pouring every part of himself into another person in a way that was truly heartbreaking to watch. However, it became significantly less heartbreaking when it was accompanied by Eddie's eyes following Steve around every room, and always looking to him in conversations no matter who was there because it was Steve's opinion and thoughts that mattered to him most. They truly were obsessed with each other, and honestly, Robin had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.
So Steve's stricken expression made no sense, nor did his frustration that Robin - despite being his platonic soulmate - didn't magically understand the issue he was having.
"I dont know Robs, its just he likes... Steve Harrington" his voice was defeated as he said it, but it still explained nothing
"....you're Steve Harrington" The confusion in her voice was evident "Am I missing something here, this isn't a 'King Steve' thing is it, because Eddie has made it pretty clear that he thought you were a jerk back then"
the noise of frustration from Steve showed she clearly had missed the point and never had she wished so badly to read her best friend's mind as when the tears began to well up in his eyes. She wanted to hug him, but knew from experience that Steve needed to get the thoughts out first.
There was a minute of silence that Robin had to try desperately to not break, every instinct wanting to spit out an awkward and unhelpful comment to lighten the mood, but she knew she just had to wait.
"I'm not..." the words seemed to get lodged in his throat, even those two words came out scratchy and uncomfortable
He squeezed his eyes shut "I'm not a boy"
Steve opened their eyes, with a desperate expression "I'm not a boy"
It was a statement but also a plea. Begging for Robin to know exactly what to say. She didnt.
"you're not a boy." Robin made sure to sound confident, at least she could pretend to know what she was doing. It seemed okay because they gave an awkward nod, head moving slightly too much for it to seem natural
"you're.... a girl?"
the tears seemed to spill the second she said it, and a choked noise lodged itself in their (her?) throat, but after a moment of panicked pause their eyes screwed shut and they nodded but also shrugged. Clearly just as confused by their discomfort as Robin is.
"Okay, thats okay Ste-" shit, stupid "that's okay babe, you're still you, and hey I might be... severely romantically challenged but even I know Eddie is obsessed with you"
there's a brief watery smile before the corners of her lips are pulled down "He likes Steve, he wouldn't like me"
"Horse shit" Robin wasn't as confident as she was trying to sound, but she knew that her best friend was still her best friend and that anyone who didn't adore her was an idiot (as all best friends know)
she moved to sit next to her friend who had ended up on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest, and once again the silence was allowed to stretch out before them, only broken up by heartbroken sniffles and shakey breaths
"so..." Robin wished more than any other moment that she wasn't so awkward "Not Steve?"
"I-" the thought gets broken off " It doesn't feel right, doesn't feel like it's me"
"whats you?" two words encapsulating a question that was near impossible to answer, but it still felt right to ask, to show that Robin wanted to know the answer.
the expression on her face showed that her friend also thought the question unanswerable, and a frustrated shrug fell from her
Robin hated that defeated expression, so she tried "Michelle?"
Clearly, the scrunched-up expression implied it wasn't a fit
"Hannah?" no not that
"Sarah?" seemed less disgusted but still no
"Becky?" okay back to disgust, moving on
"OH! Punch me if this sucks, but... Stevie?" Robin felt the need to justify her choice, showing that she wasn't just trying to make her keep her old name "Like Stevie Nicks! I could see that, dye your hair blonde, get some bangs"
the comment about changing her hair was obviously met with a scowl, but after a soft smile found its way onto her face "Stevie feels better"
Robin had never felt so smart, she was a fucking genius "Stevie is it babe"
Stevie spent moments looking at her, seemingly deep in thought before softly speaking "Thank you Robin"
it seemed too formal for them, to say it so directly with her name like that, but she could tell that Stevie was really grateful so Robin held back the tears (one of them had to be the butch one in this relationship)
"no problem babe" it was spoken just as softly as the thanks, and for now it seemed enough
"Now, tell me what happened with Eddie"
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hd-junglebook · 2 months
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Its Always Been You
Part 4 / Word Count 5816
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Summary: And so, the trip to Michigan begins with a little surprise guest.
In the dim glow of his bedroom, Jack's world felt like it was crumbling around him. The shadows danced across the walls, mirroring the chaos within his mind.  Jack's hands trembled as he held the phone to his ear, his breathing uneven and his heart racing.
"Luke, I don't know what to do with myself," Jack's voice trembled, a mix of anguish and vulnerability. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and his free hand clenched into a tight fist.  
"I've acted like a complete fool all week. Y/n hates me. I'm feeling… I'm feeling things I never felt before for y/n, and I think I've finally lost my mind."
Luke's harsh tone cut through the silence, his confusion evident. "Jack, what the hell are you talking about?" There was a rustling sound on the other end of the line, as if Luke was sitting up in bed, suddenly alert.
Jack's pacing resumed, his frustration palpable. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, his footsteps heavy against the carpeted floor.
The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on him as he struggled to contain his emotions.
"I told y/n I knew how she felt about me, and then I broke her heart. She left me all alone for three days. Jesus, I just saw her locking lips with some loser in the hallway. It's taking everything in me not to go out there and drag him outside."
"Jack…" Luke barely got out before he was interrupted again.
Before Luke could respond, Jack's voice rose again, defiant and emotional. "I'm not done." He halted his pacing, standing in front of his dresser where a picture of y/n and him sat.
It was from the night of his draft party, a snapshot of happier times. Jack's fingers traced the edges of the frame, his eyes fixated on y/n's smiling face. The photograph seemed to mock him, a cruel reminder of what he had thrown away.
He thought back to that night, his emotions, how he begged her to leave her life behind and move to New Jersey. The memory was vivid, the excitement and hope he felt then now replaced by a crushing sense of regret.
The scent of her perfume, the warmth of her hand in his, the sparkle in her eyes—it all came flooding back, intensifying the ache in his chest.
Rustling came through the speaker of Jack's phone. "I ruined us, Luke. I've ruined the best thing I've ever had." Jack's voice cracked, a single tear escaping and rolling down his cheek.
"Dude, it's almost 12am, and you're babbling about something everyone and their mom knew already. How long did you think you could fight your feelings?" Luke's tone softened, a mix of exasperation and concern.
"I don't know, Luke." Jack stayed still for a moment, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The door of their apartment closed, and he hung up on Luke when he heard footsteps approaching.
Jack perked up, holding his breath as he listened to them get closer. His heart raced, a glimmer of hope sparking in his chest.
Another door closed, leading Jack to swing open his door. Y/n had already closed her door, the click of her lock reverberating through the silent apartment.
Jack's hand hovered over her doorknob, his fingers trembling. He wanted to knock, to apologize, to pour his heart out, but fear and uncertainty held him back.
The sound of her alarm woke her from her restless sleep, the shrill beeping cutting through the stillness of the early morning. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the darkness around her.
The room was bathed in a deep, melancholic blue, the shadows clinging to the corners and casting an air of despair. The curtains, a soft, sheer fabric, billowed gently in the breeze from the slightly open window, allowing a sliver of pale moonlight to penetrate the gloom.
"Here we go again," she mumbled groggily, her voice heavy with exhaustion and resignation. The words felt thick on her tongue.
She sat up in her bed, allowing the blanket to fall in a heap on her waist. The sheets, once a comforting embrace, now felt suffocating, tangled around her legs like the thoughts that consumed her mind.
y/n looked around the room with despair, her gaze lingering on the familiar objects that held countless memories—the framed photographs on the dresser, the stack of well-worn books on the nightstand, the discarded clothing strewn across the floor.
Y/n sighed again, the sound echoing in the emptiness of the room. She pushed the blanket off of herself fully, the cool air of the apartment sending a shiver down her spine.
Her steps were light as she dressed herself, opting for comfort over style for the plane ride back to Michigan. She pulled on a soft, oversized sweater, the fabric enveloping her like a comforting hug, and a pair of well-worn leggings that had seen better days.
As she moved about the room, gathering her belongings, the floorboards creaked beneath her feet, the sound amplified by the silence that hung heavy in the air. The scent of stale coffee and the lingering aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafted through the apartment.
Jack's door opened across from her room, his yawning loud against the stark silence of the world outside their little apartment. The sound made her flinch, her body tensing as she braced herself for the inevitable encounter.
She could hear his footsteps, the shuffling of his feet against the hardwood floor, and the rustling of his clothing as he moved about his room.
Y/n rolled her eyes, not ready to interact with Jack just yet. The thought of facing him, of seeing the guilt and regret in his eyes, made her stomach churn. She focused on the task at hand, pulling her suitcase up to the door, the wheels squeaking against the floor.
Her eyes landed on the corkboard that hung on the wall beside the door, the pictures of their innocent smiles and young faces causing her heart to break even more.
In one picture, they were grinning broadly, their arms wrapped around each other's waists as they posed in front of a sunset on the beach. In another, they were dressed in formal attire, attending a friend's wedding, their eyes sparkling with happiness and love.
Y/n's fingers traced the edges of the photographs, the glossy paper cool beneath her touch. A lump formed in her throat as she studied each image. She could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes, the emotions she had been trying so hard to suppress threatening to spill over.
She pulled the door open, rushing past the open bathroom where Jack stood in the mirror, his toothbrush dangling from his mouth and a look of surprise etched on his face.
Y/n moved with the speed of a cheetah, her feet pounding against the floor as she made a beeline for the safety of the kitchen.
Just as she thought she had escaped the awkwardness, the front door jingled, keys rattling against the metal knob like a mischievous poltergeist trying to gain entry.
Y/N stood frozen in place, her body rigid with shock as the door to the apartment swung open. The sudden intrusion had caught her completely off guard, and she felt as if she had been turned to stone, unable to move or speak.
As she watched, a tuft of blonde hair bounced into view, the golden locks reminding her of the fairy tale character Goldilocks. But this was no innocent child stumbling upon a bear's cottage; this was a full-grown woman barging into her home uninvited.
"Daphne? What the hell are you doing here?" Y/N managed to choke out, her voice rising in pitch with each word until it reached a near-shriek. The disbelief and anger dripped from her tongue like bitter honey, leaving a foul taste in her mouth.
Jack's girlfriend fully entered the apartment, dragging a garishly pink suitcase behind her. It was as if she had packed her entire life into that one piece of luggage, ready to move in and stake her claim.
The suitcase was so bright it hurt Y/N's eyes, a beacon of chaos signaling the impending doom that was about to unfold.
From the corner of her eye, Y/N saw Jack emerge from the bathroom, toothbrush still dangling from his mouth. White foam dripped down his chin, making him look like a rabid dog caught in the act.
His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him, darting back and forth between the two women as if trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation he had found himself in.
Daphne's gaze flicked between Jack and Y/N, her initial smile slowly fading as realization dawned on her face. "We planned this months ago, silly," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
"Non-refundable ticket. We talked about this, Jack. It's only been three months; you can't get rid of me that easily."
She let out a laugh that sounded more like a witch's cackle, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief and something darker, more possessive. It was clear that she had no intention of leaving, no matter how unwelcome her presence might be.
Y/N felt her heart sink into her stomach, a wave of nausea washing over her as the reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. Daphne was here, in their home, and it seemed that Jack had been keeping even more secrets than she had realized.
The air in the apartment suddenly felt thick and suffocating, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Y/N's mind raced with a million questions, a million accusations, but she couldn't seem to form the words.
All she could do was stand there, frozen in place, as the world she had built with Jack came crashing down around her like a house of cards.
Jack let out a heavy sigh, his hand rubbing the front of his scalp as if trying to erase the memory of ever agreeing to this disastrous plan. His face scrunched up like he had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon, the bitterness of the situation leaving a foul taste in his mouth.
He glanced sheepishly at Y/N, his eyes darting between the two women like a puppy who had been caught chewing on his owner's favorite pair of shoes.
"Can you give us a sec? Please?" he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid that speaking any louder would cause the fragile peace to shatter.
Y/N scoffed, her arms crossing over her chest as she fixed Jack with a withering stare. "No, we have to leave soon, and if I don't have my coffee, I just might jump off the plane dealing with you both," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Her eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline, the thought of being trapped on a plane with these two making her seriously consider grabbing a parachute and taking her chances with gravity.
Jack's face reddened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "We need privacy though!" he said, his voice tinged with annoyance.
He threw his hands up in the air, as if he were trying to physically push away the awkwardness that had settled over the room like a thick fog. "Could you give us some time?"
Y/N let out a humorless laugh, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the apartment. "Oh, you need privacy? That's rich, coming from the guy who couldn't even bother to tell his best friend that his girlfriend was coming to visit."
She shook her head, her eyes narrowing as she fixed Jack with a look that could have melted steel. "You know what? Fine. You two lovebirds enjoy your little reunion. I'll be in my room, packing my bags and booking a one-way ticket to anywhere but here."
With that, she spun on her heel and stalked off towards her bedroom, her footsteps echoing like gunshots in the stillness of the apartment. She could feel Daphne's eyes boring into her back, could sense the smug satisfaction radiating off the other woman in waves.
But Y/N refused to let it get to her, refused to let the hurt and betrayal show on her face. She had always prided herself on being strong, on being able to handle whatever life threw her way. And she sure as hell wasn't going to let Jack or his girlfriend see her crumble.
As she reached her bedroom door, Y/N paused, her hand resting on the knob. For a moment, she was tempted to turn back, to march right up to Jack and demand an explanation.
But she knew that it would be pointless, knew that whatever he had to say would only make the pain worse.
So instead, she took a deep breath and stepped inside, slamming the door behind her with a resounding thud. And as she sank down onto her bed, her head in her hands and her heart in pieces, Y/N couldn't help but wonder how everything had gone so wrong, so fast.
Y/N walked back out into the living room, Daphne turned to her with an expression of exaggerated surprise. Her eyes were wide, and a cute smile was plastered on her face, the kind of smile that made you want to pinch her cheeks but also question the sincerity behind it.
"This is your best friend, right? She's a lot shorter than I remember," Daphne said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. It was clear that she was trying to get under Y/N's skin, to establish her dominance in the situation.
Y/N couldn't help but scoff, her eyes rolling so far back in her head that she nearly caught a glimpse of her own brain. "And you're the EX-girlfriend, right?" she retorted, putting extra emphasis on the "ex" part. Two could play at this game, and Y/N wasn't about to let Daphne win.
Jack let out a groan, his head falling back in frustration. "God, just my luck," he grumbled, his eyes rolling so hard they nearly got stuck in the back of his head.
He knew that he was in for a long and uncomfortable conversation with Daphne, and the thought of it made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.
Y/N took a deep breath grabbing her coffee, the warm liquid providing a momentary comfort before made her way back out to the kitchen. Y/N grasped the cold metal handle, the chill sending a shiver down her spine.
"Let's go before I change my mind," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. She didn't want to give Jack or Daphne the satisfaction of seeing how much this situation was affecting her, didn't want to let them see the cracks in her carefully constructed façade.
The journey to the airport had been a tense affair, with Y/N pointedly ignoring Jack's attempts at conversation and Daphne chattering away obliviously in the background.
Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her, his gaze heavy with unspoken apologies and explanations, but she refused to meet his eye, focusing instead on the passing scenery outside the car window.
they made their way through the bustling terminal, Jack tried once more to pull Y/N aside, his hand gently grasping her elbow. "Y/N, please, can we just talk about this?" he pleaded, his voice low and urgent.
Y/N yanked her arm away, her eyes flashing with barely contained anger. "There's nothing to talk about, Jack," she hissed, her voice sharp as a knife. "You made your choice, and now we all have to live with the consequences."
Jack's face fell, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "It's not like that, Y/N. If you would just let me explain..."
But Y/N cut him off with a bitter laugh, her head shaking in disbelief. "Explain what, Jack? How you don’t like me? How you play this stupid hot and cold game with me? No, I think I've heard enough explanations to last a lifetime."
She turned to walk away, but Jack's hand shot out once more, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. "Please, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe that."
For a moment, Y/N wavered, her resolve crumbling in the face of Jack's obvious distress. But then she caught sight of Daphne waiting impatiently by the gate, her foot tapping, and her arms crossed, and the anger came rushing back in full force.
"I don't have to believe anything, Jack," she said, her voice cold and distant. "You made your bed, and now you have to lie in it. I just want to forget about all of this and move on with my life. So please, just leave me alone."
With that, she wrenched her arm from his grasp and strode towards the gate, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces.
The seating arrangement on the plane felt like a cruel joke, a twisted game of fate that had placed Y/N in the middle of the very chaos she had been trying to escape.
She found herself sandwiched between Jack and Daphne, her body pressed against the cool glass of the window as if she could somehow merge with the clouds and drift away from the awkwardness that permeated the air.
Jack sat rigidly in the middle seat, his body a tense barrier between Y/N and Daphne. Y/N could feel the heat of his skin, could smell the familiar scent of his cologne, and it made her heart ache with a longing she couldn't quite suppress.
On Jack's other side, Daphne slept peacefully, her head lolling against his shoulder and her soft snores filling the space between them. She seemed blissfully unaware of the silent war raging within Y/N's mind, the turmoil that threatened to consume her from the inside out.
Y/N's foot tapped incessantly against the floor, a nervous habit that betrayed the inner chaos she was desperately trying to conceal. Each tap was like a metronome, counting down the seconds until she could escape the confines of the plane and the suffocating proximity to Jack.
She could feel his eyes on her once more, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into the side of her head. But she refused to look at him. Instead, she focused on the clouds outside the window, on the endless expanse of blue sky that stretched out before her.
Y/N was lost in thought, her mind a whirlwind of emotions and memories, when Jack's hand suddenly shot out, startling her back to reality. Before she could react, he had shoved a headphone into her ear, ignoring the sputtered questions and the look of indignation that flashed across her face.
His fingers brushed against her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. It was a reminder of the connection they once shared, the easy intimacy that had defined their friendship for so many years. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as she tried to process the unexpected gesture.
As the familiar opening credits of her favorite episode of Game of Thrones filled her ear, Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. She glanced at Jack, searching his face for an explanation, but he steadfastly refused to meet her gaze.
His eyes remained fixed on the screen in front of him, as if the answers to all of life's questions could be found in the flickering images.
Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Jack, her eyes tracing the contours of his face, the curve of his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks.
Each glance was a silent question, a plea for him to acknowledge the unspoken words that hung between them. But Jack remained stoic, his attention unwavering, as if he had erected an impenetrable wall around himself.
Even as she tried to immerse herself in the show, Y/N couldn't shake the awareness of Jack's presence beside her. The warmth of his body seemed to seep into her skin, igniting a longing that she had tried so hard to suppress.
She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, could hear the soft whisper of his breath, and it made her heart ache with a bittersweet mixture of love and loss.
Beside her, Jack remained a silent presence, his body so close and yet so far away. Y/N couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, what he was feeling.
Y/N stepped out of the airport, the crisp Michigan air filling her lungs and invigorating her senses. She took a deep breath, savoring the familiar scent of pine and freshly cut grass that always seemed to linger in the air.
The sun peeked through the scattered clouds, casting a warm glow on her surroundings and making the world seem a little brighter, a little more hopeful.
She scanned the crowd of people waiting outside the terminal, her eyes searching for a familiar face. And then, like a beacon in the chaos, she spotted him.
There, leaning against a sleek black car, was Luke. A grin spread across his face as he caught sight of her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that had always made her heart skip a beat. "Y/N!" he called out, pushing himself off the car and striding towards her with open arms.
Without hesitation, Y/N dropped her bags and ran to meet him halfway. She threw her arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground in a spirited hug. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, and all that mattered was the comfort and familiarity of Luke's embrace.
"I missed you so much," Y/N mumbled into his shoulder, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. She breathed in the scent of him, a mixture of cologne and something uniquely Luke, and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her.
Luke chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against her own. "I missed you too, shorty. It's good to have you back."
He set her back down on the ground, but kept his arms around her, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. Y/N couldn't help but smile up at him, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging that she hadn't felt in a long time.
Behind them, the sound of footsteps on the pavement broke the spell. Y/N turned to see Jack and Daphne approaching, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and something else, something harder to define. Jack's eyes met hers for a brief moment, a flash of emotion passing between them before he looked away, his jaw clenching.
Luke's arms tightened around Y/N, a silent show of support and protection. "Hey Jack, Daphne," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Glad you could make it."
Daphne smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. "Thanks for picking us up, Luke. It's been a long flight."
Y/N could feel the tension crackling in the air, the unspoken words and unresolved issues hanging between them like a thick fog. But for now, she pushed them aside, focusing instead on the feeling of Luke's arms around her and the promise of a few days away from the chaos of her life in New Jersey.
Jack moved forward, his arms open wide and a grin plastered on his face, Y/N felt a flicker of hesitation. There was something about his expression that seemed forced, as if he was trying too hard to appear casual and unaffected by the tension that hung thick in the air.
But before Jack could reach them, Luke's hand shot out, smacking the side of his head with a resounding thwack. The sound echoed through the parking lot, drawing the attention of a few curious onlookers. Jack stumbled back, a bewildered look on his face as he rubbed the spot where Luke's hand had made contact.
"Ow, what was that for?" Jack asked, his voice a mix of surprise and mock indignation. His brows furrowed as he looked at Luke, trying to decipher the reason behind the sudden attack. Y/N could see the gears turning in his head, the confusion and hurt flickering behind his eyes.
Luke lowered his voice, his tone stern yet laced with underlying concern. He leaned in closer to Jack, his eyes locked on his brother's, as if he was trying to convey a message that went beyond words.
"For being an idiot and for bringing her here. Did you forget about what you said on the phone?"
Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing with the implications of Luke's words. What had Jack said on the phone? What secrets had he been keeping from her, even as he tried to bridge the gap between them?
Jack's face flushed with guilt, the color rising in his cheeks like a crimson tide. His eyes darted to Y/N, then back to Luke, a silent plea for understanding.
For a moment, no one spoke. Y/N could feel Daphne's eyes on her, could sense the other woman's curiosity and suspicion. But she refused to meet her gaze.
Finally, Luke broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Come on," Luke said, releasing Y/N and grabbing her bags. "Mom's waiting at home with lunch. She's been cooking up a storm all morning."
Y/N grinned, the thought of Luke's mother's cooking making her mouth water. "Lead the way," she said, falling into step beside him as they made their way to the car.
As they walked, Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her back, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into her. But she refused to look back, refused to acknowledge the part of her that still longed for his touch, his presence, his love.
Instead, she focused on the warmth of Luke's hand in hers, on the promise of a few days of respite and healing. And as they drove away from the airport, the skyline of Detroit rising up in the distance, Y/N couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope igniting in her chest.
Maybe, just maybe, this trip would be the start of something new, a chance to leave behind the pain and heartache of the past and find a way forward, one step at a time. And with Luke by her side, and the love of her family to guide her, Y/N knew that anything was possible.
Lukes’s car pulled up to the familiar two-story house, Y/N felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. The red brick facade, the white wooden porch, the sprawling oak tree in the front yard - every detail was exactly as she remembered.
She stepped out of the car, the warm breeze caressing her face and tousling her hair. The scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, a sweet perfume that brought back memories of lazy afternoons spent lounging in the sun and late-night conversations under the stars.
Y/N took a deep breath, letting the peace and tranquility of the moment settle over her like a comforting blanket. For the first time in days, she felt the knots of tension in her shoulders begin to loosen, the weight of her worries and fears slowly melting away.
Beside her, Jack and Daphne were unloading their bags from the trunk, their voices a low murmur against the backdrop of chirping birds and rustling leaves. Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on Jack's face, taking in the lines of stress and fatigue that creased his brow.
In that moment, she made a decision. She was tired of being angry, tired of holding onto the hurt and betrayal that had consumed her for so long. Life was too short to waste on grudges and resentment, too precious to let slip away in a haze of bitterness and regret.
With a determined set to her jaw, Y/N strode over to Jack, her steps purposeful and sure. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening in surprise and a flicker of hope.
"Hey," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I know things have been tough lately, but I don't want to keep dwelling on the past. You're my best friend, Jack, and that's never going to change."
Jack's face softened, his eyes shining with a mix of relief and gratitude. "Y/N, I..." he started, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry too. For everything. I never meant to hurt you, and I know I have a lot to make up for. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again."
Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, the sincerity in Jack's words tugging at her heartstrings. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I know," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "let's just focus on enjoying this trip and being there for each other, okay?"
Jack nodded, his own smile breaking through the clouds of tension that had hung over them for so long. "Okay," he said, his voice filled with a tentative hope. "That sounds perfect."
Together, they made their way up the porch steps, their hands still intertwined. Y/N could feel the warmth of Jack's skin against her own.
"Welcome back, sweetheart," Ellen said, her voice warm and rich like honey. "We've missed you so much."
Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I've missed you too," she said, her voice muffled against the older woman's shoulder. "It's so good to be home."
Luke led Daphne and Y/N up the stairs, their footsteps echoing on the hardwood, Jack seized the opportunity to pull his mother aside. His heart raced, palms sweaty as he glanced nervously between her and the staircase, his body practically vibrating with anxiety.
Ellen's brows furrowed, her maternal instincts kicking into high gear as she sensed her son's distress. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch a silent invitation to share his troubles.
"Jack, honey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Jack swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. But there was none to be found, and he knew that he owed his mother the truth.
With a heavy sigh, he guided her to the couch, his movements stiff and awkward. They sat down, the worn cushions sinking beneath their weight, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Jack broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mom, I... I messed up. Y/N and I, we had a fight. A big one. And I don't know how to fix it."
Ellen's eyes widened, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. But she remained silent, allowing her son to continue.
"I didn't tell her about Daphne, and she found out in the worst way possible. And now... now she can barely look at me. I don't know what to do, Mom. I can't lose her."
Jack's voice cracked, the tears he had been holding back for so long finally spilling over. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.
Ellen's heart ached for her son, for the pain and regret that radiated off him in waves. She reached out and pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping around him like a protective cocoon.
"Oh, Jack," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of sympathy and gentle chastisement. "I know it's hard, but you have to be honest with the people you love. Secrets have a way of coming out, and they always hurt more in the end."
Jack nodded, his face still buried in his mother's shoulder. "I know," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of her shirt.
"I just... I didn't want to hurt her. But I ended up doing exactly that." Ellen pulled back, her hands coming up to cup Jack's face. She looked him in the eye, her gaze filled with a wisdom born of years of love and experience.
"Do you remember the time that boy was bothering Y/N in school?" she asked, her voice soft and reminiscent. "You came home with a black eye and a split lip, but you were so proud of yourself for defending her."
Jack's lips twitched, a hint of a smile breaking through the tears. "Yeah, I remember. She was so upset, but I just wanted to make her feel safe."
Ellen nodded, her own smile mirroring her son's. "You brought her back here, to this very house. And you let her lay her head on your lap, and you caressed her hair until she fell asleep. Do you remember what I told you then?"
Jack's brow furrowed, his mind stretching back to that distant memory. "You said... you said that love is the most pure thing you can feel."
Ellen nodded, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "And I see it in you, Jack. When you look at her. You love her, don't you?"
Jack took a deep breath, his shoulders straightening his heart skipping a beat at his mother's words. He had always known, deep down, that his feelings for Y/N went beyond friendship. But to hear it spoken aloud, to have his deepest secret laid bare... it was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"I... I don't know what to say, Mom," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and longing. "Y/N and I, we're just friends. And besides, Daphne...” He trailed off, his eyes flickering towards the staircase where his ex-girlfriend had disappeared just moments before.
Ellen sighed "Jack, honey, the longer you wait, the harder it's going to be. Sooner or later, you're going to decide whether you want to be with her in that way or let her go and find love in someone else.”
Jack stood up, his heart lighter than it had been in days. He hugged his mother one last time, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume. "You're right, Mom. I need to be honest with myself, and with Y/N. But... but I can't do it now. Not with Daphne here. It wouldn't be fair to anyone."
"Ellen patted his cheek, her touch a silent benediction. "I understand, sweetheart. But don't wait too long, okay?
Tag List <3
@favsrachz @jacktoria4ever @bunbunbl0gs @ivy-34 @rebelatbay @bxtchopolis
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luveline · 9 months
Note
hope my boyfriend's okay request.
hi!!! can I request hurt comfort or angst with spencer reid? maybe reader is just an ordinary girl, not that smart, not that pretty, or even a college drop out (like reader from honeybody) so she is kinda insecure when spencer being kind to her or even ask her on a date?
tysm♡
"Do you want to play?" Spencer asks. 
You're flushed before you open your mouth, startled by his sudden appearance and the new haircut he sports, curls locked back behind his neck. "Sorry, I just wanted to sit down." 
"No, I'm just asking if you want to play," he says, shaking the little briefcase he holds between his fingers to emphasise the rattle of the chess pieces inside. 
You've stolen his chess table again at the park. It's how you met, how you continue to meet —you want somewhere to put your book as you read and Spencer hardly ever makes you move, he just sort of sits with you until someone is in need of an opponent. 
"I don't know how. I don't have the smarts." 
Spencer sits down opposite you, placing the briefcase against the white and black chequered tiles. "Playing chess isn't about being smart. Being good at chess takes learned skill, though. It's like learning a language. Most people can say hello and goodbye if they try, but fluency comes with practice." He smiles at you like you're lovely and pretty and someone worth explaining this too, when you're worrying It's filtering out of your head like water through a sieve. Draining, draining, gone. 
"I don't even think I could remember hello and goodbye," you say. Your attempt to smile back at him is pitiful. 
His smile ebbs. "You're sure you don't want to play? I'd go easy for you." 
You curl the cover of your paperback in your hands, deliberating. Chess is one of those games that seems never-ending. It's full of manoeuvres and techniques, openings, closings, all these learned combinations, strategy like nothing you've ever been able to comprehend. You've never wanted to learn because you know you won't be good, even if you try. 
"Okay," you say quietly. "I really won't be any good." 
Spencer shrugs and begins to retrieve the small wooden chess pieces. "I usually win anyways."
"Have you ever, um, competed? Like the grandmaster things?" 
"No, but I had a friend I competed against for a long time. We played a lot of games. He was better at winning, despite my advantage." Spencer arranges your pieces with care. "Do you need me to teach you the opening moves?" 
He explains slowly. When you need help, he gives it, and he doesn't lord it over your head. It's a little shameful seeing the difference in your intellectual capabilities displayed so clearly, and the longer the game goes on the worse you feel, even though Spencer lets you win. 
"You'll get better every game," he says, returning taken pieces to the board.  
"You want to play again?" you ask. "Come on, Spencer, that can't have been fun for you." 
"Why wouldn't it be?" 
"Because I'm a useless opponent? And I don't really have anything else going for me, either, so it must be boring." It's an awkward thing to say, self-deprecating and stilted considering you and Spencer aren't more than acquaintances. You regret it as soon as you've said it but the frustration of the situation sticks around. "I don't understand why you waste your time with me." 
"It's not wasted if it's with you." Spencer looks genuinely confused, shapely eyebrows pinching. "Is that what you really think? I like spending time with you, I don't need you to be a chess expert to find you interesting." 
"But there's nothing interesting,," you insist. 
"Of course there is…" He straightens a chess piece, gaze split between you and the board. "You don't have to say something from a journal for it to be worth saying. You know, I've had a thousand conversations this year, some of them with professors or academic experts, but," —he puts his hand, now finished with the chess pieces, over his elbow, meeting your eyes shamelessly— "the one I replay the most is from a few weeks ago, when you told me why you like to read in the park." 
"That was just small talk," you say weakly, though it hadn't felt small to you, and now you know it wasn't small for him either. 
"Then I guess I love small talk," Spencer says. "Do you want to play again? I'll teach you some good opening moves if you tell me more about you. Deal?" 
You nod hurriedly, and fail to hide a beaming smile. "Teach me the best one." 
"That's what I meant," he says. 
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gimmethatagustd · 6 months
Text
delicate | pjm
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After months of not talking to each other, Taehyung thinks he can charm his way into your life again. Thankfully, Jimin is there to help you work through your feelings.
○ Pairing: Jimin x f!reader (from Only Here To Sin)
○ Rating: Explicit/18+
○ Genre: Established relationship, fluff, smut, pwp
○ Word Count: 3,987
○ Warnings: It's pretty much just porn, OHTS Taehyung strikes again!! he's annoying!!, mentions past sex with Taehyung, references toxic past relationships, consensual sex while under the influence of alcohol (just tipsy), using a tie as a blindfold, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, it's their first time together 🥹, I definitely didn't edit this (as usual, we post when we're done and we never look back)
○ Notes: This can be read as a standalone oneshot, but I recommend reading OHTS to get the full backstory~ and also because it's a disaster of a series, so it's kind of like watching a trainwreck. Don't judge me too much; I had no idea what I was doing when I wrote it. I still have no idea what I'm doing!
○ Post Date: December 16, 2023
○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots
○ What was Jai listening to? Like Crazy - Jimin
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You knew going out with Jackie was a mistake. Even more of a mistake was your agreement to go to this nightclub. 
“Are you cold?” 
Jimin’s arms snake around your waist and draw you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. The light, minty scent of his toothpaste mixes with the floral notes of his cologne. Rather than overwhelm you, the smell grounds you and brings you into the present. 
“I’m okay,” you mumble. 
Jimin hums. You feel the sound vibrate from his throat against your shoulder and the side of your neck. He’s not convinced, and you know he isn’t. 
“Want to go find your friends? I’ll order us drinks.” 
You nod and reluctantly detach yourself from Jimin’s embrace. The poor bartender has far too many people crowding the counter. Jimin will have to wait a while; he’s too polite to cut in front of other customers. 
The club isn’t big, but it’s packed. You feel like you’re clawing through the bodies swaying to the music with your head on a swivel to find your friends in the crowd. The last time you were at this club, you’d ended up in the bathroom with Taehyung’s fingers shoved inside you. 
No. You are not going to think about that. 
It has been five months. Five months of detoxing, of neatly packing away the hurt and confusion that Taehyung caused you and storing it in the attic of your mind. You’re a different person now. The person Taehyung manipulated and strung along was no more. And the most important part is that you’ve forgiven the person you used to be. It was too easy to be angry at yourself for your mistakes. 
Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean you weren’t nervous about returning home for summer break. The memories and emotions triggered the moment you pulled into your parents’ driveway were enough to make you feel like throwing up. You’re lucky Jimin got time off from his music apprenticeship in California to visit you, or you may not survive the summer. 
Dreary thoughts aside, you’re beginning to feel frustrated with your inability to find Jackie when you feel a warm hand slide into your palm and long fingers intertwine with yours. 
“Hey, jagi.” 
Despite the loud thrum of music, that smooth voice pierces through you sharply and clearly.
Taehyung’s cheeks shimmer pink with intoxication beneath his honey-toned skin. His hair is longer than when you last saw him. It falls into his eyes, obscuring them in a way that makes his already mystifying gaze all the more intimidating. They nearly glow in the pulsing club lights, sparkling with amusement. 
“Miss me?” Taehyung tongues his cheek as his eyes take apart every inch of your body. “You look really good.” 
How your stomach flutters with butterflies you’d thought were long gone makes you feel sick. You quickly rip your hand from Taehyung’s. You’d missed him, in the beginning, a little bit, but being with him had hurt you more than leaving him. It took making new friends to realize you’d missed companionship, not Taehyung. Now, you have far healthier friendships. 
You can practically hear Alexis’s voice in your head, nagging you about toxic men like Taehyung. 
“The worst thing a man can be is aware that he’s hot,” Alexis lectured you the first time you opened up to her about Taehyung. She wasn’t wrong.  
“No, I did not.” The steadiness of your voice surprises you, though it shouldn’t. You’ve put in a lot of work to process your fucked up relationship with Taehyung. You can do this. 
The smug look on Taehyung’s face doesn’t disappear, but that doesn’t surprise you. 
“Why didn’t you tell me you were in town, jagi?”
“Why do you even think I would tell you?” 
Before you can demand that Taehyung stop calling you by the inappropriate term of endearment, you feel lips brush against your temple. 
“I gave up,” Jimin admits with an apologetic smile and empty hands. His eyes take in your crossed arms and rigid stance when you don't speak. With a frown, he follows your gaze to notice Taehyung finally. “Oh, sorry, hi. I’m Jimin, her boyfriend.”  
You try to be kind, but you want to punch the smug look off of Taehyung’s face when he offers his hand to Jimin. 
“Nice to meet you, Jimin-ssi. I’m Taehyung,” he introduces himself. “Her ex.” 
Jimin is too polite for his own good. He shakes Taehyung’s hand with his head cocked to the side. His pink lips scrunch into a sideways pout, and his eyebrows are just as tense. It’s the look he makes while writing his Music Theory essays. (“Music is about feeling, Y/N! Why do I need to write papers about it?”) It isn’t anger or frustration but a struggle to understand. 
All you can think about is that Taehyung called himself your ex. After the grief he’d given you for wanting to be more to him than a sexual conquest, it’s unfathomable that he could claim the two of you had dated. 
“She’s told me about you,” Jimin finally states. You’re not sure what angle he’s going for. In all honestly, you’d love to melt into the floor and bypass this entire conversation. 
“That’s cute.” Taehyung’s eyes twinkle with the sparkles of the disco ball rotating overhead. 
“Hmm, I guess, if you think being an asshole is cute.” 
You hope your gasp isn’t detectable. Both men continue staring at each other, so it’s hard to tell. 
“Do you?” Taehyung grins, and you barely hide your shock when Taehyung blatantly checks Jimin out. 
It’s the same predatory look he’s given you in the past that makes your heart flutter and heat blossom between your thighs. You find it odd to see the look directed at someone else, let alone at your boyfriend. 
It’s also odd that you feel relieved when Jimin’s cheeks flush pink at the sudden attention. Somehow, Jimin’s reaction is the validation you need to remind yourself that you haven’t made anything up. Taehyung has this uncanny power to capture people’s attention and draw them into his clutches with a simple look. Seeing Jimin affected by Taehyung makes you feel better about falling into his trap. It doesn’t take away all the blame; you take full responsibility for your actions. But it helps knowing someone as strong as Jimin can be flustered by Taehyung, too. 
“I do not, actually.” Jimin tightens his hold on your waist. The feeling of his warm hand on your hip keeps you out of your head. Grounded. Jimin always keeps you grounded. 
“Unfortunately, that’s all Taehyung knows how to be,” you pipe up. Even if your snappy comment does nothing to remove the smug look on Taehyung’s face, you get satisfaction from voicing your thoughts regardless. 
“If I remember correctly, you enjoyed that about me.” 
You let out a long sigh. “Tae, what matters is that I’m not enjoying anything about this conversation right now.” 
Jimin presses his fingers into your side, gently reminding you he’s there – as if you could ever forget his presence. 
“Let’s go, Jimin.” You wrap your pinky around Jimin’s and tug. “I’m sure whoever Taehyung came with is looking for him.” 
You don’t wait for a response from either man. You’re over the days of having men tell you what to do.
Two hours later, you’re thoroughly tipsy and stumbling into Jimin’s hotel room with sore feet and the sensation of cotton in your ears from the nightclub’s loud music. Never the type to be out all night, it didn’t take long for you to ask Jimin if you could head back to his hotel room. Although you succeeded in ensuring Taehyung didn’t ruin the night for you, partying isn’t your thing anyway. 
Jimin, on the other hand, is still wired. He strips off his shirt and tosses it onto the couch before working on unbuckling his belt. 
“What’s the name of that guy Jackie’s dating?” he asks with a huff like he’s out of breath. You watch him tug his belt from the loops and toss it onto the couch. 
“Seokjin? Well, he goes by Jin.” Jin and Jackie. They’re an unlikely pair but cute. 
“Yes! He’s so funny!” Jimin pushes his jeans down his thighs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone take that make shots. And you know how my fraternity is.” 
Following Jimin’s lead, you shimmy out of your dress. The hotel’s vents are blasting cold air, so you quickly sort through Jimin’s suitcase to find one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of loose boxers to wear. The two of you have undressed in front of each other before, and you’ve even fooled around while naked, but nothing has ever gone beyond using your hands and mouths to get each other off. Jimin has been unbelievably gentle and kind with your desire to take your relationship slow. You’ve been dating for nearly half a year, and he hasn’t pressured you. 
You know it’s basic decency to respect someone’s boundaries, but considering the relationships you’ve had in the past, this is a big deal for you. 
Not ready to sleep yet, Jimin sits in the bed and reaches for you with grabby hands and a slight pout. He looks adorable with his fluffy blonde hair. You’re not sure you can deny him anything, honestly. 
“We probably should have had more water,” Jimin points out as you climb into his lap. Heat radiates from his bare chest, prompting you to snuggle against his skin to absorb some of that warmth for yourself. 
“I’m fine.” 
“You’re talking with this cute little slur.”
“I am not!” 
Okay, maybe you are, but you’re not drunk. You’re just tipsy enough to feel loose in your limbs, light in your head, and hot in your core. Biting your bottom lip, you shift to straddle Jimin’s lap. The blankets pool around your waist, and Jimin’s hands naturally rest on your bare thighs. 
Jimin lets you lift his chin so his head is tilted to look at you. 
“Are you okay?” His hold on your hips is light but sturdy. 
“I want you.” 
Jimin’s eyes flutter closed when your lips brush against his neck. You suck at the soft skin where his jaw meets his throat while you thread your fingers through his blonde waves. When you nestle your fingers into the roots, you gently tug his hair. 
A low groan rumbles from Jimin’s chest. His grip on your waist tightens, and the sensation causes your body to shudder. 
“Are you sure?” He opens his eyes when you pull back from his neck, but you’re focused on the dark, reddish-purple bruise you’ve left on his skin. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything after running into–” 
“No.” Your response is curt, probably sharper than Jimin expects if his widened eyes are anything to go off of. “Taehyung doesn’t have any influence over me anymore, Jimin. This is just me wanting you, okay?” 
It’s true; Taehyung has nothing to do with your desire for Jimin. Maybe if he does have some ounce of influence over the situation, it’s only because you feel empowered and emboldened after standing up to him. That, mixed with the alcohol, is giving you a sense of invincibility. It’s confidence that you might lose by the night's end, but you’re willing to ride the wave for as long as you can. 
None of this is anything you’ll regret in the morning. If anything, you’ll be thankful for the opportunity to prove to yourself and everyone else that you’re ready to take on the things you’ve once feared. 
Accepting your reassurances, Jimin nods. He runs a hand up your spine, stopping at the base of your head to cup your neck.
“Can I just say something first?” 
His question makes your stomach flip, but you force yourself to maintain eye contact while you nod. You tend to get nervous with him when you’re intimate. There’s nothing wrong with Jimin; he’s kind and attentive. It’s your bad experiences with sex that make you hesitate. There’s too much pressure to perform well. 
“You always get really nervous,” Jimin starts slowly, rubbing his palms up your thighs. “And I was trying to think of a way to help you relax.” 
Shame burns your cheeks because you feel like this isn’t something Jimin should have to do. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? Why can’t you handle sex without getting so stressed out over it? 
“Okay…” you prompt him to continue, though you aren’t sure if you want him to. 
“Would you be willing to try something? I promise if you don’t like it, we can stop.” 
If it were anyone else, you’d be scared of Jimin’s question, but you find it relatively easy to agree to whatever plan he has – albeit nervously. 
Careful not to jostle you too much, Jimin maneuvers you off his lap and goes to his suitcase. It takes a few seconds for him to find what he’s looking for, but when he faces you again, you feel your heart flutter.
In Jimin’s hands is a silk black tie, which he keeps for special occasions – such as the dinner he attended with you and your parents when he first arrived in your hometown for the summer. It looks good on him, especially when he loosens it and lets it hang haphazardly around his neck. 
Despite your limited sexual experience, it’s clear that he won’t be the one wearing it tonight. Approaching the bed, Jimin instructs you to sit back with your legs spread so he can kneel between them. 
“You trust me?” he whispers. When you nod, he reaches behind your head to secure the tie so that it covers your eyes. “Let me know if it’s uncomfortable, and I can redo it.” 
“It feels okay.” Strange, but okay. 
You can’t see anything, so you keep your eyes closed. Rather than become even more nervous about the unknown of the darkness, you find that it’s actually relaxing. So often, you let negative thoughts ruin intimacy with Jimin, preventing you from moving forward in your relationship. Somehow, being blindfolded empties your mind until all you can think about is how you imagine what Jimin looks like while he touches you. 
You let Jimin guide you to lie flat on your back. With your most prominent sense taken away, you focus on your others to tell you what’s happening. Jimin is slow as he slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt to push it up your torso. 
“Can I take this off?” His breath is hot against the side of your neck, and you feel the bed shift when he hovers above you. 
“Yes,” you reply, barely above a breathy whisper. 
Once Jimin has removed your shirt, his body heat disappears. You don’t panic, but you feel lost without his touches there to ground you. That is, until you feel something wet flick across your nipple. 
“Oh, god,” you moan when Jimin wraps his lips around your nipple and gently sucks. 
His tongue is hot and sloppy as it swirls around the bud until it’s perky and hard. Satisfied with his work, Jimin attaches his plush lips to your other nipple and repeats the same action. 
You arch your back, pushing against his mouth. Jimin wraps his arms around your waist to press his palm to the small of your back, further pulling you into him. The darkness heightens your sense of touch, making each hot swipe of Jimin’s tongue and the graze of his teeth against your skin even more tantalizing. Your pussy throbs with how wet and hot you’re growing just from this alone. 
“Jimin,” you whimper. 
His fingers hook around the edge of your borrowed boxers. “Can I take these off, too?”
You nod your head quickly and lift your hips to make it easier for Jimin to pull his boxers off of you. 
“So pretty…” 
You let out a high moan when you feel the pads of Jimin’s fingers brush against your entrance. He gathers your arousal and smears it over your lips and clit. You can hear the squelch the wetness makes when he dips his fingers inside of you just enough to gather more of the sticky mess. Your wet skin goes cold, and you can tell Jimin has blown air on you. 
“I’m going to eat you out, okay?” Jimin punctuates his question with a tiny flick of his tongue against your pussy. 
“Please, fuck, please,” you want to cry and try to push your hips against where you think his face is, but his hands hold your hips down. 
“I will, I will.”
Jimin laughs, airy and gentle, before pushing his tongue further between your lips to flick your clit. He repeatedly sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin while his lips envelop you. 
Your skin is blazing from the heat of his heavy breathing and how his touch makes you burn. Every suck of your clit makes you gush between your thighs. You can imagine Jimin staring up at you with dark eyes as he eats you out, humming into your pussy with satisfaction.
You arch into his face when you feel pressure at your entrance again, and Jimin slips two fingers into your pussy. He thrusts them in and out, hooking them to press his fingers against your front wall to find the spot he knows so well that makes you squirm. 
“Fuck,” he groans into your dripping pussy. Turning his head to the side, Jimin brushes his mouth against the inside of your thigh. His lips are soaked and sticky. 
You rock against his hand as he fingers you, letting out little “ah ah ah’s” with each thrust against your front wall. You feel like you’re on fire, like every breath will ignite your body, make you combust. 
“Please, Jimin, please.” You never thought you’d be the type to beg, but you’re so desperate to cum that it’s embarrassing. “I’m going fucking crazy, please.” 
You try not to compare Jimin to Taehyung; you really try. But it’s hard not to, especially when Jimin gives you the best head you’ve ever had. Foreplay has never lasted this long before. You can’t tell if it’s a blessing or a curse. 
“Ready for me?” It’s both hard to hear and so fucking hot when Jimin asks the question into your pussy. 
It’s disorienting when Jimin uses his clean hand to pull his tie off your face. You blink a few times to adjust to the light, belatedly realizing neither of you ever turned it off. While some people like intimacy in the dark, you and Jimin always keep the lights on. It’s nice to look at it other; it feels more intimate. 
You switch positions, allowing Jimin to sit against the headboard and have you straddle his lap like you were before. 
“Ride me first, okay?” Jimin whispers in your ear when he takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders. “I want to see your face when you take my cock for the first time.” 
Your pussy flutters, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to survive taking his cock if his words are enough to create a reaction in you that makes your knees weak. 
“Oh, oh,” you whimper as Jimin sits against the bedframe. “Okay.” 
“Look at me.” 
And you do. You stare into those narrowed, sultry eyes as you line his cock with your entrance, one hand squeezing his shoulder to help you lean at the correct angle. The stretch is quite easy despite your previous concerns about taking Jimin fully. It should have been obvious; you’re so drenched that you slide down on his cock so smoothly that you want to fucking die.
You know what you’re doing, having had plenty of experience riding Taehyung in the past. It’s different this time, of course. Jimin never takes his eyes off yours as you bounce on his cock. His hands squeeze your hips to guide you up and down his cock, encouraging you to lift until only the head of his cock is nestled in your pussy before sliding back down his entire length. You’re so wet that Jimin’s thighs glisten with your arousal, as do yours. 
“You’re gorgeous,” Jimin says with a soft smile. 
“Oh my god,” you squeeze his shoulders as you rock against him, “You’re, you’re cuter.” 
“Whatever you say, baby.” Jimin rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead. 
He’s so cute, even as your pussy sucks in his cock and clenches around it. How is it possible for him to seem so innocent in a moment like this? It makes your heart swell with a love you’re worried you’ll never be able to fully articulate to the precious boy beneath you. 
“Feels good,” you moan against his mouth when you lean forward to kiss him. “I’m gonna cum already.” 
Jimin sucks your bottom lip at the same time he slips his hand between your bodies to start rubbing your clit. The two points of pleasure cause you to slump forward, but luckily, Jimin takes over. He thrusts into with swift, strong movements, never stuttering even when you can tell that he’s nearing his orgasm, as well. 
There’s no shame in not lasting very long. You’re both a little bit drunk and extremely horny. The buildup to this moment is almost a climax all on its own. Neither of you can be blamed for how frantically you claw at each other and do your best to grind against each other’s bodies as hard and fast as you can. 
“Come on, baby,” Jimin groans into the crook of your neck as he fucks you. “We can cum together, okay? Let go for me so we can make each other feel good.” 
“Oh, Jimin, y-yes, fuck, okay.” You nod your head and pant your words against the curve of his ear. Needing something to hold onto, you dig your fingers into Jimin’s hair. 
Jimin always knows the right things to say and finds a way to ease your stress and ground you. He talks you through your orgasm and holds you close as you cum. It’s erotic, but it feels gentle and intimate. Rather than dirty talk, it feels sweeter and more caring. 
Even when Jimin finds his release, coming in you with a brutal grip on your waist, he whispers soft words of gratitude because he sees fucking you as a privilege – not a challenge to be won. 
When it’s over, you melt into Jimin’s embrace, chest to chest, with your head resting against his shoulder. You’re both sweaty and sticky, but it doesn’t matter. All you want to do is be close and be held. 
“How are you doing?” 
You nod, unable to find the words to express how utterly content you feel. Not just content – you feel cared for, even when all you’ve done is fuck. It’s different with Jimin. It’s gentle. It means something. 
“Did the tie help?” he asks, curious and wanting to have done a good job coloring his tone. It’s sweet, just like all of Jimin. 
“It did,” you finally speak up. Turning your head to the side, you press your lips against Jimin’s neck and speak to his warm skin. “It helped me get out of my head, so all I focused on was you and how you made me feel.” 
“Good?”
You smile with your eyes closed when you feel him kiss your forehead. “You always make me feel good.” 
Jimin squeezes you in his arms, content with humming a happy reply against the top of your head. No other words need to be said; for now, the two of you bask in the warmth you bring each other and know that whatever the morning brings, you’ll always have safe arms to fall back into. 
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Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.
All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.
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clovestreet · 1 year
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let me- ethan landry
an: i am absolutely FERAL for this man atm...😨i just had to write something abt him..
summary: you have been super stressed about exams lately and ethan knows the best way to make you feel better. (also this is DEFINITELY more soft ethan??) but i like that.. lol
warnings⚠ SMUT (16+), oral (f receiving), strong language
Hell on earth was organic chemistry.
Your absolute fucktard of a professor had scheduled your exam on the same day as two of your other exams. This man had it out for you.
You massaged your temple as you drummed your pencil on your notes. Your brain wasn't functioning anymore. You had been sitting at this godforsaken desk for three hours now. You needed a break.
You forced yourself out of your chair and faceplanted on your bed next to your boyfriend in defeat. You sighed into the mattress and tried to gather your thoughts.
"Something bothering you baby?" your boyfriend laughed as he rubbed small circles into your back, clearly amused by your frustration with trying to memorize aromatic compounds.
"I can't do this anymore E, "I'm actually so exhausted."
"I wish someone would just kill the stupid bastard." you groaned into your palms.
Ethan gulped and immediately froze in his movements and you weren't sure why. But then he was comforting you again like nothing had happened.
"I'm sorry baby. If it makes you feel better, I just failed my last exam."
You laughed as he pulled you closer, the grasp of his arms melting away your stress.
"Honestly, I don't know if anything could make me feel better at this point.”
“Unless you can teach me the structure of carboxylic acid." you said with your hands on his chest staring into his dark eyes.
His chest shook with laughter and it was music to your ears. Ethan was so comforting and even being in his arms took you to a place far away from your worries.
"Definitely can't do that, but I think I can take your mind off it for a little while." he murmured into your lips.
"Oh yeah? How's that?"
"Well it usually starts with my head between your legs” he says in a low whisper.
You immediately feel your cheeks flush with warmth and squeeze your legs together.
You completely froze and waited for him to finish his sentence.
“ ..And ends with you screaming my name or something like that." he says with a devilish smirk.
He grins like a lovesick bastard at your embarrassment and tilts his head down to connect his lips to yours. He smiles into the kiss and you can feel your pulse weakening at the way his tongue explores your mouth.
His lips travel down your neck and you know exactly where he's going. You pull him off of you and look him in straight in his hazy brown eyes.
You and Ethan had been together for a little over a year now and you had been intimate more times than you could even begin to remember. You still got nervous before he went down on you and you just couldn't help but feel insecure sometimes, but Ethan always made you forget about all of it when he touched you.
"E, are you sure? You really don’t have to, I-”
He immediately stops you with a confused expression on his face.
“Baby are you kidding? I live for this shit.”
“I should probably get back to studying E, I just-"
He cut you off again, this time taking your head into his hand and made sure you met his gaze.
"Fuck studying. Let me make you feel good babe."
His thumb gently brushed over your cheek as he searched your eyes for an answer.
"Ok, fine." you said softly with a shy smile on your face.
"That's my girl." he said with a grin spreading over his face as he placed the softest kiss on your lips.
His fingers danced their way over your ribs under your shirt and his lips were placing gentle kisses on your hipbones. His fingers made their way down to the waistband of your shorts and his eyes quickly glanced up to yours asking for consent. You quickly nodded your head, becoming more and more eager for him to touch you by the second.
He pulled down your shorts gently and tossed them behind him. He hooked his fingers under your lace panties and pulled them down painfully slow. Once they were off, he grabbed both of your legs and put them over his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around your legs and pulled them open.
He looked up at you through lustful eyes while licking his lips.
"I got you. Always." he said in a low whisper placing a kiss on your inner thigh.
You brushed a gentle hand over his curls and offered a weak smile to him. You could feel your anticipation for his touch becoming stronger and your legs were shaking before he even touched you.
You could feel his breath on you and you couldn't take it anymore. You wrapped your fingers in his curls and guided him onto you.
He licked up your slit as you sucked in a shaky breath. Your thighs immediately clenched around him, but his strong hands pulled your legs right back open. His tongue started to circle around your clit and your fingers were already tugging on his curls. He groaned into you and the vibration had you letting out a choked moan.
"Right there E." you gasped.
He looked up at your face contorted in pleasure and started to grind his hips onto to the bed. Ethan was the kind of boyfriend who genuinely could get off from pleasuring you and have absolutely no shame about it.
He was lost in the taste of you and you were lost in his touch. You couldn't even remember what you were stressed about in the first place. Your mind was consumed by the feeling of his tongue sloppily tasting you and swirling around your clit, the tight grip of his fingers prying open your thighs, his dark eyes peering up at you through hooded lids occasionally rolling back into his head every time you moaned his name.
His hand slid carefully down your thigh as he slipped his middle finger into you, pumping in and out at a deliciously slow pace.
Your fingers tugged harder on his curls and he practically moaned into you.
"F-feels so good E, you're so good" you whined.
"I know baby I know, I'm gonna get you there I promise." he murmured into you, pressing wet kisses on your clit.
His words made you toss your head back and your back arch off the bed.
He slipped another finger into you, pumping a little faster this time.
Your fingers loosened from Ethan's hair and slid down his bare shoulders. His fingers started to curl inside you, purposefully hitting the spot he knew would send you over the edge. You moaned loudly and your nails dug into his back.
He groaned into you so loudly it almost caught you off guard. If you hadn't known better, you would have thought you hurt him. But you knew better by now. His sounds sent you even closer to the edge.
"Come on babe, let go for me." he breathed into you.
You could feel yourself impossibly close to your high with Ethan's gaze trained on your face. The second Ethan's nose rubbed your clit you were done for.
All you could do was moan his name over and over again, your nails digging into his back sure to leave marks. He fucked you all the way through your high until you were practically dragging him off of you.
You put your hand on the back of his neck and guided him toward your lips. God, he was so beautiful, even with the taste of you glimmering all over his features. You pulled him down into a breathless kiss and brought him closer by draping your leg over his waist.
He drew back and cupped your jaw looking down at you.
"I really hope you're not thinking about studying anymore tonight, because all I want to do-"
"Shut up and kiss me Landry."
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appleblueberry-pie · 1 month
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Can can… we reject yan gojo? I actually deeply need it. *shakes head* My spirit guides told me it’s beneficial to my life’s journey. Him just being so down bad and we could never. Gojo is not our type. He’s tall but we aren’t compatible. I want angst, despair, his tears, pleads. Desperation. This would be even juicier if it’s based in like school because now he’s going to have to live out his adult life hoping 😔
This felt more like a regular teenage confession gone wrong.
I imagine waking up to him being at your dorm room door confessing, haha.
You've been up on your phone for like 20 minutes, but it's still extremely early. You're in your pj's and you drag yourself to the door, and he's there in the same state, a guilty smile on his face. You both knew it would happen sooner or later though. Lately, he's been staring at you as if he's gonna explode if he doesn't talk to you. You tried to avoid him, but here he is now.
"Hey, I just.......can I tell you something real quick?" Hands in his pocket as he speaks. You sigh and shrug. ".....Just say it. I don't care."
The things he planned on saying wasn't something that should elicit an "i don't care". He knows you'll turn him down. He lets out a shaky breath before finally rambling.
"I just wanted to say that I have been feeling differently about you lately. Like, I really love to spend time with you and talk with you, it just makes my day whenever you're around-" It felt so unnatural now that he was saying it out loud. And your face was beginning to change into a not-so-good look. "You always talk to me, make me feel included, you just do everything so nicely, I can't like...look away from you sometimes because you're so bright. I just.....I feel like I can be myself when you're there, and I just wanted to say that I feel really attracted to you, and I am in love with you."
"..........................."
He wasn't sure what face you were making. It looked like you wanted to pull a neutral face, but you were also simultaneously surprised and confused and frustrated. He doesn't know. You were still and weren't speaking and he felt like he was going to throw up. So, he kept talking.
"I can't ignore how I feel about you anymore. I wanted to, like, leave you alone, but you taught me to not ignore my feelings and always tell someone about them, so here I am. I don't know if you feel the same way," You didn't. "But, like, everything about you is fucking amazing and I can't just.....look, please just say something." He awkwardly laughed and shuffled in his spot while you kept staring up at him like he had another head. You didn't say a word. He shuffled his hair and pulled at it anxiously and still kept talking.
"I know what you're thinking......but like please give me a chance." Your lip twitched nervously and you took a very small step back, which he, of course, noticed. "I know! I know I'm being weird right now, it's just, like, I could give you everything you want, you know?? Like, I'll pay for your stuff, I could take you wherever you want to go, you like that one sushi place before right?? I can give you all the attention you want, I could- I could, um.....I could like scare off any guys bothering you, I can drive-" No, he can't. "I'll be so good to you, I promise. Please."
You sigh and shake your head. "Gojo...." "What will it take??? I'll do anything, I just really want to be yours, you understand, right??" He backed up a little to give you space and spoke in a low volume not to alert anyone from their sleep since it was still super early. "You're not my type." You just tell him flat out, but he still tries to find any possibility, which you immediately crushed. "Like, at all, Gojo. I don't want anything that you have in my dream guy. I don't want you and probably never will."
It doesn't make any sense to him at all. He just stands there extremely confused. "........what?" "I don't want you, I'm sorry." And you shut the door.
Words can't even explain how he feels right now. He never thought at all at the possibility that he wasn't even anything close to what you desire in a man at all. It just felt so unreal for that to even be a possibility. Was it his voice? His hair? His face? What the fuck was it? Was he not skinny enough? Does he need to gain weight and muscle? He doesn't even fucking know what your type is because he always thought it would be something like him. Now he's entirely lost. What did all of those lost lives and kidnappings mean if you won't even love him?
He doesn't ever want to force you into anything, but even he doesn't know how far he'll take it. He already has a hard time not killing your ex-friends or people you don't get along with. And he definitely can't stop stalking you anytime soon, there's too much to figure out about you. There's too much time that he's dedicated to just you. And it has to all be for a reason, there fucking has to be. He's not loving you for nothing.......does he have to kill more people? Is he going to have to take you by force? He's lost and doesn't like his options.
"Hm."
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eroselless · 19 days
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PATO - ONE
series masterlist | part 2 | part 3
[charles leclerc x reader, carlos sainz x reader]
warnings: angst, fighting, mentions of pregnancy
note: I don’t listen to Billie Eilish all that much but my best friend got me hooked on her latest album and for some reason, Wildflower inspired me to write this. Might not have any correlation but ya know, when life give you lemons. Also here Charles and Carlos aren’t as close as they seem to be in real life. Hope you enjoy it!
MONACO, DECEMBER 2022 
You stand in the dim light of your living room, the soft glow of the lamps casting long shadows across the floor. Two years' worth of memories are strewn across the carpet like scattered leaves on a chilling autumn afternoon. Your chest heaves as you face Charles, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you.
“I feel like I’m drowning here, all on my own,” you breathe, your voice trembling with raw emotion. “You’re never home, you’re always away! What about us?”
Charles runs a frustrated hand through his hair, his agitation palpable. “You fully know that racing isn’t a hobby for me; it’s my passion, my life. I thought you understood that,” he spits out, his words sharp with frustration.
“I do understand that!” you exclaim, hands going up to rub at your eyes. Your face is slick with tears, they seem to fall at a never-ending pace. “But passion shouldn’t come at the expense of our relationship. You could come home, but you don’t!”
He shifts uncomfortably from across the room, his eyes darting away from yours to the carpeted floor below. His nostrils are flared in anger as he speaks. "So, what are you saying? You want me to give up my dreams? To stop racing?"
"No, I want you to find a balance. I want you to make time for us, for me. I can't keep feeling like I'm always second place. When you do come home, which is hardly ever, it’s like you're not even here. You’re closed off, cold. We barely spend any time together, and when we do, it’s like you're trying to hide me away.”
Charles’s eyebrows furrow, his jaw clenching as he shoves a finger in your direction. “I keep our relationship private to protect you from the media circus, you know that!” he interjects. "I can't believe you're being so selfish, Y/N," Charles snaps, his fists clenching at his sides. "You knew what you were getting into from the very beginning."
You let out a shaky breath, your shoulders sagging with exhaustion. It's an excuse you’ve heard time and time again, and there's only so much of it you can handle.
“Selfish?" you shoot back, your voice trembling with anger. "I'm the one who's been here, supporting you, waiting for you, and now I'm asking for a little bit of your time, and I'm the selfish one?" Your chest aches as you take a breath, your resolve melting away.
"And you fully know that I can handle whatever the media comes at me with,” you sigh. You turn and make your way down the hall, to your room, Charles following close behind you. All he can do is stand and watch as you start to shove things in a backpack. 
As you pull on a jacket and prepare to leave, he reaches out to stop you, his voice small with confusion. “What’s going on?” he asks, his hand reaching for yours.
You swat his hand away, your heart heavy with sorrow and frustration. “We're just two people trying to make a relationship work. But if you can't even be here for that, then what's the point?” you argue, your voice trembling with emotion.
“You don’t need to worry about keeping us a secret anymore, Charles.”
There’s a tense silence as he struggles to process your words, tears beginning to prick at his cerulean eyes. You stare into them, searching for a sign, a plea for you to stay. But you see none. And with a heavy heart, you slip out of the door, leaving him behind in the empty silence of your once-happy home.
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You gaze out the window, eyes tracing over the contours of the darkening landscape. Raindrops patter slowly against the glass, each droplet a melancholic echo of the turmoil raging within you. Outside, the trees and grass blur together, mirroring the jumble of emotions swirling inside your chest. Your hand falls gently to your tummy and you can't help but glide your fingers over it tenderly. 
With trembling fingers, you reach into your bag and pull out the pregnancy test, its plastic casing cool against your skin. The two bold lines glare back at you, a stark reminder of the life beginning to grow inside you. Fear and uncertainty fill the cavities of your chest, threatening to overwhelm you. You close your eyes, tears tracing silent paths down your cheeks once again. 
Leaving Charles before telling him about the baby feels like abandoning a ship in the middle of a storm. Guilt gnaws at your chest as the train hurtles further and further away from Monaco, the distance between you and Charles widening with each passing moment.  You couldn’t shake the truth that seemed to present itself in bold letters before you. Charles may have been there, he may have laid in the same bed as you but for some time, his thoughts were miles away.
Another fear blooms at the edges of your mind. At 21, you never expected to face the daunting prospect of motherhood on your own. It's not the path you imagined yourself on at all. You thought you would marry Charles and share the joys and challenges of this baby with him.  But now, as the reality of your situation sinks in, you find yourself grappling with the harsh truth that you are all alone in this journey.
You loved how passionate he was about racing, and admired the fire in his eyes as he chased victory on the track. But in his relentless pursuit of glory, he seemed to have left you behind with nothing but his silhouette, a mere afterthought in his quest for greatness. 
In that moment, you realize that in many ways, you'd have to raise the child on your own regardless of Charles's presence. His absence has left you feeling isolated and alone, grasping at the fragments of your fractured relationship. If you'd stayed, who knows if he would have changed? The uncertainty weighs heavily on your heart, threatening to drag you under.
With a sigh, you feel yourself sag further into the train seat, the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a leaden blanket. The ticket inspector’s voice cuts through your thoughts and you hastily produce your ticket, handing it over to him with a shaky hand. Across the aisle, you catch the gaze of a woman's eyes full of unspoken sympathy as she watches your fingers tighten around the pregnancy test. You give her a tight-lipped smile as the ticket inspector hands back your ticket before turning back to the window, your gaze fixed on the blurring landscape outside as you hurtle toward an uncertain future.
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a/n: a little short for the first chapter but they’ll be a little longer in the future, hope you guys enjoy this first one :) also if you made it this far, I just wanted to share that the word pato means duck. It's not too important for now but it will be later! As always, thank you for reading!
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