#it's a sunday and i'm on break i needed to express this

[sunflowersandsapphires]

If the Sun Starts Setting

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 7

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: Swearing, family drama, characters celebrating Christmas, mom with terminal illness, crying mentions

a/n: Sorry to post this so late everyone! I have had the WORST brain fog today. I hope you enjoy! As always, comments and reblogs fuel me!

After just one semester of law school, the drive between suburban Connecticut and the Columbia campus was one you were becoming well-acquainted with. It wasn’t unbearably long, nor flooded with traffic on a dark Sunday evening. Headlights of oncoming vehicles painted swatches of light against the navy sky, a semi-urban work of art unlike anything you’d enjoyed before. Usually, it was a sight you took the time to admire. However, this particular evening you were unable to focus on anything but the tinny voice bubbling out of your phone’s speaker. 

Gritting your teeth and rolling your eyes to the heavens, you cursed the universe for a moment, tuning out the man on the other end of the line while you did so.

The sharp call of your name across the speakers regained your attention. ”Are you listening to me?“

Your father's inflection was grating on the best days. After three weeks spent waiting on him and your two ungrateful siblings while they preached about the importance of family during the holidays, you were ready to scream with every word he spat at you. The two hour drive back to campus was supposed to be the growing light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, you'd spent the last third of it arguing with your father about healthcare charges.

”Yes, I'm listening.“ ‘Unlike some of us’, you thought to yourself. ”As I said, that charge was for her brief hospital stay over Thanksgiving. I've already paid it and it might take a week or two to reflect—“

”This is a debt collection notice, hun. That means they didn't receive the payment yet. Which means they'll be coming after me when your mom inevitably cannot pay.“

Contemplating banging your head against your steering wheel just to remove the memory of this conversation, a flash of movement across the parking lot caught your eye. Expression softening, you almost sobbed in relief when you caught the two beaming expressions of your friends waving from the exterior door. Unfortunately, your father wasn't quite done arguing with you.

”Dad, I understand you don't want to be on the hook for this—“ ‘Not like you would be anyway.’

”I most certainly do not.“ He interrupted. Once again ignoring his rambling, you snatched your backpack and exited your car, slamming the door with a bit more force than usual.

”Dad, just forget about it, ok? I'll deal with it, just—“

”Well, clearly you won't deal with it in a timely fashion, which is why I'm calling...“ ‘Was he trying to kill you? It sure felt like it.’

”Ok, well I just got back to school so I need to go now.“ You tried to nudge him into polite farewells as you practically sprinted across the pavement towards your friends. As expected, he didn't take kindly to being rushed off the phone.

”Of course you do,“ He laughed incredulously. ”You know, this is your mother's livelihood we are discussing. It wouldn't kill you to be a bit more compassionate.“ ‘You're one to talk asshole.’

”You're right. I'll try to work on that this semester,“ You remarked drily. ”Gonna go inside now. Bye.“

Not bothering to listen to the screaming that answered your callous goodbye, you hung up, breaking into a strained smile as you greeted your boys. ”Why hello there, strangers.“

As if he didn't just witness you walk literally and figuratively closer to a breakdown, Foggy squealed, nearly taking you to the pavement in a tackling hug. “Welcome back, bug!”

“Christ, Fog, you're gonna crush her.” Matt laughed, hearing you grunt as you fumbled to stay upright with Foggy coiled around you like a boa constrictor.

“I missed you too, Fog.” You murmured, tears welling in your eyes at the sensation of being embraced.

You had missed them. Deeply and almost pathetically. After an entire semester at each other's sides, the few weeks in your hometown for Christmas had felt like an eternity.

After Matt and Foggy had been struck with the campus flu, the rest of the semester passed in a whirlwind. The two clingy boys had unsurprisingly infected you, meaning you were unfortunately sick for Thanksgiving and had to remain on campus to avoid passing the virus on to your immunosuppressed mother. Matt had been incredibly apologetic, and plagued with his typical Catholic guilt, so he'd stayed with you while Foggy returned to Hell's Kitchen for Turkey Day.

The next few weeks were spent cramming for finals and, eventually, celebrating the end of your first semester at Columbia—which you had all, amazingly, passed. Leaving for the lengthier winter break had been an abrupt end to the joy you felt over your grades, however.

You returned to New Haven a day earlier than expected to sit in the local hospital's oncology ward with your mother. While you were ill over Thanksgiving, she'd had a recurrence of stage 3 pancreatic cancer, which meant more frequent trips to see her doctor as well as numerous bills that neither of you could afford. Because of her declining health, your father and siblings had come to Connecticut for Christmas. The extra company meant that your holidays–which were meant to be a time for recuperation following a strenuous first semester–had been frustrating to the point of tears. Which, embarrassingly enough, Matt had been burdened with when you called him to complain.

The two of you called multiple times a week, exchanging stories and annoyances just like you did when you were living within a few blocks from each other. But it didn't stop you from missing him and Foggy fiercely for 24 excruciating days.

Swallowing a lump of pent up emotion, you huffed out a shaky exhale, your breath clouding in the frigid winter air. “Ok, Fog. You know I love you, but it's cold as fuck out here.”

“Right! Sorry.” Foggy withdrew from the embrace, blushing furiously as he scratched at the back of his neck.

Immediately replacing Foggy in front of you, Matt took a chance to hug you quickly before pulling you inside. “Glad you're finally here, I thought Nelson here was going to combust.”

Letting Matt usher you inside, you heard Foggy's baffled scoff. “Do I look like a patient man to you, Murdock?”

Matt smirked, “How would I know?”

You and Foggy both groaned loudly, looking to each other for support as Matt cackled. “C'mon, you set that one up perfectly. What's a guy to do?”

“You should've heard him over break, bug. He was driving my poor mother towards a stroke, I swear.” Foggy shook his head in feigned irritation.

“Oh please, she loved me.” Matt shoved his roommate, nearly bowling the three of you down the staircase as you trudged toward their room.

“I bet she did.” You snorted, “You probably dialed the charm up to 11.”

“Try 15.” Foggy remarked, unlocking the door and shoving it open.

Ignoring the jab, Matt held out a hand for your bag, allowing you to slip out of your coat and shoes.

“Who were you on the phone with?” His question was meant to open the can of worms in a structured way, rather than answer his own burning question. He’d bet dollars to donuts that it was–

“My father.” Came your fatigued response, confirming his suspicions. Your words were tinged with a bitterness that he’d expected, but they held a deeper upset thinly veiled by your exhaustion.  

“Is everything ok?” Foggy asked quietly, his brow pinching with worry as he studied the bags under your eyes. The blond was less informed on the hell you’d been put through over the last month or so, only picking up bits and pieces if Matt relayed them.

With a groan, you collapsed unceremoniously onto Matt’s bed beside him, leaning heavily into him as one of his arms fell across your shoulders. “Of course, it’s just…it wasn’t the pleasant send off I was hoping for.”

Your pulse jumped when you spoke, steadying out as you reached the end of your sentence. Matt already knew that things weren’t “ok” with your mom or your home life in general, but he blinked in surprise to hear the disappointment that coated your words as you referenced your father’s curt goodbye. Making a note to bring that up when you seemed more inclined to be vulnerable, he rubbed a palm over your arm in a comforting gesture.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish it had been better.”

Huffing a tiny laugh, you let your head fall against his shoulder. “Me too. How were your holidays?”

“Pleasant.” Matt murmured at the same time Foggy clapped his hands together.

“Fantastic! I forced Matt to watch all of the Star Wars movies with me and we ate our weight in cookies.” The long-haired boy explained with genuine enthusiasm. As he began to recount the escapades from the annual Nelson holiday party, your eyes flicked upwards to look at Matt, whose arm was still moving slowly across your shoulder and back as he caressed your sleeve. His eyes were trained forward, but a muscle in his jaw twitched as you focused on him, so you had a sneaking suspicion that neither of you were listening to Foggy’s story. You’d forgotten how well he could read you, until he gave you the option to pretend everything was fine with your dad.

He knew it wasn’t, and you did too. And maybe shoving that shit deep down and pretending it didn’t exist wasn’t a healthy way of handling it, but if you met Foggy’s worried gaze right now it would make you cry, which you were not prepared for. So, whether it was a wonderful coincidence or Matt could truly read you like a picture book, you were thankful for his deflection.

Smiling softly, you looked back to Foggy, listening to him talk about his drunk aunts fawning over Matt and feeling the thick tension bleed out of your shoulders.

Eventually, Foggy took a deep breath, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Woah, head rush!”

Matt chuckled, “You didn’t even stand up, buddy. You ok over there?”

“Yah, I’m fine! Just excited!” Foggy waved a hand, unfazed.

“And I can’t wait to hear about everything, Fog. But maybe we should take a break for presents?”

“Presents?” Foggy’s eyes widened along with his grin, his behavior as animated as a child’s at the mention of gifts. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

You laughed, prying yourself out of Matt’s secure grip and opening your bag. Tossing two wrapped bundles across the room and onto Foggy’s bed, you set the other two in Matt’s lap.

“Merry Christmas, my lovely Musketeers!” You giggled as Foggy mime-fenced toward you. As soon as the blond was finished beating you in the imaginary sword fight, he eagerly tore into the glittery wrapping paper. Next to you, Matt looked much more apprehensive about the packages in his lap.

“Go on, Matty. Open them!” You encouraged, bumping his shoulder with your own.

“But we don’t have anything for you,” Matt’s lips curled into a pout, looking like a sulking kitten as he trailed a single finger along the crisp edge of the parcel nearest to his hand.

You rolled your eyes fondly. The poor kid had a strong enough sense of justice for the whole campus. ”Matty, we're in college. And I'm the only one with a job. I didn't expect you to get me anything.“

”But—“ Matt argued, but you cut him off with a laugh.

”No more buts! I got these presents for you because I wanted to, not because I thought I’d receive something in return. Please open them?“ Though he couldn't see your face, you batted your lashes and widened your eyes, hoping he could sense the pleading expression.

With a frown, he nodded once, carefully peeling the tape from the paper as if the task required surgical precision. Grinding his teeth as the paper crinkled raucously, he slid the first gift out of its casing carefully, as if he was expecting it to shock him if he moved too quickly. Withdrawing a lump of the softest material he'd ever felt, he ran a thumb over it, trying to decipher what it was. The strip of wool was composed of thick braided stitches, promising to retain warmth in even the most bitter winter weather.

”A scarf?“ He asked, his lips pursed into a small, surprised oval. A rosy blush dusted the tops of his cheeks.

”Yes! I made one for you and one for Foggy. Except yours is a deep red and his is orange.” You spoke softly, smiling over to where the longer-haired boy was wrapping the length of yarn around his neck triumphantly.

“Our favorite colors.” Matt murmured, his fingers still tracing the fuzzy stitching. “You remembered?“

”Of course I did, trouble. That's important information. I'd be a fool to let it slip through the cracks.“ You hoped the joke would make him laugh, but he continued to stare blankly at the scarf as if it was an animal that had just died in his arms. ”If you don't like it, I can take it back, and donate it or something–“

”No!“ Matt looked up, horrified, clutching the scarf to his chest. ”No, I love it. I just...“

Turning his face back to his lap, he licked his lips before continuing. ��I've never gotten something like this before. I don't know what to say, is all.“

”No need to say anything, bub. I'm glad you like it.“ You rubbed your palm over his arm, mirroring his actions from just a moment ago.

Still focused on his own gifts, Foggy's excited screech startled both you and Matt. ”NO WAY!“

Turning to you with a dropped jaw, Foggy shook his head. ”There is no way you got this.“

”What is it, buddy?“ Matt asked, his lips curled into a soft smile as he heard Foggy open a hardcover book eagerly.

”A first edition of The Fellowship of the Ring!“ Foggy was practically giddy, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he rifled through the pages. ”How did you even get this?“

Grinning at him, you giggled. ”My mom has a friend with an extensive book collection and asked where we could find one. Turns out, the friend had one of her own and was willing to part with it for next to nothing. Guess she owed my mom a favor.”

Diving across the room to crush you in another hug, Foggy kissed the top of your head. “Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!”

Laughing brightly, you struggled to shove your friend off of you. When he was this worked up, Foggy had the tenacity of an overexcited golden retriever. As usual, Matt helped release you from his clutches. ”You're welcome, Fog. I wanted to get you a nice copy since you lost the one you brought to school.”

“I'd say you accomplished that, my lovely jitterbug.” Foggy ruffled your hair, retreating to his bed and launching himself onto the mattress–the rusted springs creaking in protest.

Giggling at him, you turned back to Matt. “Alright, Murdock. Your turn, again. After this, I promise never to put you through this torture again. Until next year.”

Matt groaned in response, snatching the second gift with more vigor. “Let's get this over with.”

Approaching the gift with the same systematic tactic as the first, he slid the paper off of the box without a single tear. Setting the wrapping aside, he opened the cardboard package and pulled out his real gift.

“Ok so, I'm not sure how helpful these will be,” You warned, fidgeting with your hands as he ran his fingers along the band connecting the ear pieces. “But, they're, um, noise-canceling headphones?”

Matt's breath caught in his throat. He was overwhelmed with guilt and affection and surprise at the present, all words of gratitude pulled back down to his vocal chords as he focused solely on not bursting into tears.

Over the past few weeks, the Nelsons had been kind enough to invite him to stay and celebrate with them. He was flattered, and so thankful, but he wasn't used to so many...people. During a few of your phone calls over the break, he'd mentioned that the excessive stimuli, mainly noise, had been getting to him and giving him headaches. And rather than chastising him for being ungrateful, you'd listened and sympathized with him over the phone, ultimately buying him a solution to the issue with your own money.

Sure, there was no guarantee that these would work for his heightened senses, but you didn't know that. And the idea that you were willing to go to such immense lengths to ensure his comfort...it was evidence of a love he hadn't experienced in a decade.

“Are you ok? Did I do something wrong?” Your worried murmur broke his train of thought.

“No,” He choked out. ”No, they're perfect. So is the scarf. Thank you, bug.“

”Of course. Merry Christmas, Matt.“ You kissed his cheek gently and he felt a flush crawling up his neck. Wrapping an arm around you, he tucked you close to his chest, hand cradling the back of your neck.

”Merry Christmas, sweetheart.“

The two of you sat there in silence, holding each other close for a minute before your phone rang. Sighing deeply, you rested your head against Matt's shoulder as you fumbled for your phone. Thankfully, the screen displayed your mom's contact information, not your father.

“Sorry, trouble. I have to take this.“ You squeezed his arm, pulling out of his embrace and stretching as you stood. ”I'll be right back. Hopefully.“

Smiling at your near-groan, Matt jerked his chin towards the door. ”We'll be here.“

Slipping into the hallway, you lowered your voice. ”Hey mama, everything ok?“

”Hey baby, everything's fine, just had a couple questions for you about bills.“ Her sweet voice was strained and you could practically see her flicking her gaze to meet your father's, his metaphorical gun to her head as she made the call.

”Ok,“ You ground out, trying not to snap at her when she wasn't the reason you were frustrated. ”Um, what questions did you have?”

“You did pay the one from November?” She asked, predictably.

“I did. It'll reflect soon and Dad has nothing to worry about. The bill is attached to our names, not his. That's why Collections isn't writing to him.“ You explained as calmly as you could, knowing that she was aware of this already, but probably had you on speakerphone. ”Was that all?“

”Not exactly.“ Her tone shifted, pitching lower and sounding almost embarrassed. A crackle rippled over the line and suddenly your father's gruff voice replaced the one you adored.

“You need to come home next weekend to help your mom with the next round of billing. I've run out of time off and can no longer assist.” He commanded, the ‘compassion’ he held for her livelihood nowhere to be found.

‘Oh because you were so helpful this month when you were ordering us around.’  You griped internally. “What round of billing? The one from Thanksgiving–”

“Was four appointments ago. These things aren't free, you know. They’re wanting us to pay for them.”

Both you and your bank account were intimately familiar with the steep cost of her treatment. Inhaling deeply, you paced a few steps from Matt and Foggy's room. “I know they aren't free. We signed her up for a payment plan two weeks ago that offers a deferral–”

“She was denied.” His laconic answer made your spirits plummet as time came to a halt. Your pounding heart froze in place, dread creeping up your spine. 

“What?” On the off chance that he was being unintentionally misleading, you needed to clarify.

Your mother's apologetic voice came over the line once again. ”I wasn't accepted into the financial assistance program, baby. But, it's ok! I can pick up more shifts–“

”No!” You exclaimed, the shrill edge of your cry echoing down the hallway. You tried again, digging your nails into the flesh of your palm as you fought to keep your voice steady.

“Don't...you don't need to do that mama. I don't want you to overwork yourself. I'll come home on Friday and we can talk about options, ok?“ You bargained, running through your work schedule in your head to create a plan.

”Are you sure, honey? Won't you be busy getting a head start on the semester?“ 

Blinking back tears at her obvious care for you, you cleared your throat before answering. “It’s alright, mama. It’s just syllabus week, I’m sure I’ll have time to come home and sort things out.”

“She’ll make time.” Your father’s promise was more for your mom than you, but it felt like a swift kick to the gut all the same. 

Because you would make time. You had to. No one else would. You were your mom’s last line of defense. Prioritizing yourself and failing to be there for her wasn’t an option you had. The emotional burden you were carrying felt impossibly heavy, as if there was a line of anvils across your shoulders and chest, slowly forcing the oxygen out of your lungs until you perished. 

“Of course I will. I’ll see you this weekend, mama. Love you.” You choked out, slapping a palm over your mouth before you broke. 

“I love you too, baby. Have a good week at school!” You could picture her tired smile as she wished you a proper goodbye, the image cracking your composure. 

You hung up before the first tear rolled down your cheek. Dropping your face into your hands, you bit your lip to stifle a sob, letting the tears flow silently instead. Falling back against the wall behind you, you let your legs give out as you collapsed to the disgusting dorm hallway carpet. 

The blood rushing in your ears drowned out the noises drifting through the thin walls, an urge to scream churned in your chest. Ugly, rage filled sobs were barreling up your throat, desperately trying to claw their way out, to make your pain known. Hunching over your knees in a pitiful crouch, you shielded your face with your arms, preventing any passersby from seeing your much-needed meltdown. 

Choking out a breath around another half-smothered sob, you nearly screamed when a warm hand landed on your shoulder. Looking up frantically, the outburst downgraded to a strangled whine when you saw Matt’s furrowed brow directed at you. 

Wordlessly, he sank down beside you, opening his arms with a frown. Throwing yourself into his embrace, you couldn’t help the hideous sounds that escaped you as he enveloped you in his muscular arms with ease. Tucking your head under his chin, you shook violently against his chest as you bawled. 

“I can’t do this, Matt. I can’t–” You gasped out, your breath stuttering as you wept forcefully into his shoulder. 

Shushing you gently, he rubbed circles into your back with his large hand.

Whimpering at the touch, you wiped at your tear-streaked face furiously. “”I’m barely an adult. How am I supposed to do this?” Your voice shattered around the words, throat constricting with anguish.

“I don’t know,” Matt cooed, stroking a fresh pair of tears away from your skin with his thumbs. “But I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’ll get through it together.” 

Burying your face into his neck miserably, you shuddered with distaste. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You don’t have to ask.” He whispered gravely, pressing a kiss to your crown. 

With that promise, your brain seemed to shut off. Your tears gradually slowed to a halt, leaving you dazed and exhausted in Matt’s lap. Heaving out a shaky exhale, you closed your eyes, letting his soft touches wash over you like the tides. Kissing your forehead tenderly, Matt cupped your cheek. 

“Why don’t we go sit somewhere softer than this shitty floor, hmm?” His small question was meant to make you laugh, but your fatigue had chased away every other emotion. 

Nodding softly, you let Matt pull you from the ground and back into his room, welcoming the darkness after the harsh fluorescent lighting of the hallway. Sliding off his glasses and placing them on his nightstand, he guided you to Foggy’s bed. The blond frowned at you, setting his book aside. 

“You ok, bug?” He asked, sitting up to inspect your puffy eyes.

Shaking your head tiredly, you crawled onto his mattress and let him wrap you in a hug. Matt, with an impressive amount of agility, somehow leapt onto the bed behind you, snaking his arms around your middle so that you were sandwiched between him and his roommate. You listened to their steady breathing, letting the sound lull you into a more peaceful state of mind. 

Tangling his fingers with yours, Matt’s lips scratched over the back of your head. “Fog, think you could read some of your book for us?”

“Uh, yah totally.” Foggy pouted, gaze still lingering on your drained face. “Let me just find my page.”

The combination of your worn-out consciousness and the comforting presence of your two best friends was dangerous. Your eyes fluttered shut and you could feel yourself drifting off. 

As if reading your thoughts, Matt kissed your hair. “Go on, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

Squeezing his fingers, you stopped fighting the darkness pulling at the edges of your vision, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 

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[cadotoast]

Chapter 2- The Summons

Minors DNI please. 4.7k word length

Your house can't really be called anything more than a cottage, really. But it is home to you, your father, and your brother on the occasions when he is not in the Knights' quarters in the palace. It is small, drafty, and in desperate need of repairs, but it is home. It is safety. It is sanctuary.

A week and three days after the announcement at the festival, that sanctuary is shattered.

You are in the middle of sharing a breakfast with your father when the knock at the door comes. Seeing your pale expression, he gets to his feet and answers the door for you. You hear him greet whoever is delivering the message, confirming your residence. Your father, usually so kind and chatty, is rather brusque with the messenger, and does not linger in the doorway before closing the door in the man's face.

"Was it from the palace?" You ask needlessly, stirring your porridge with a wooden spoon.

"It is," Your father says, voice soft. "Do you want to read it? Or shall I?"

You hold your hand out for the sealed letter, and take it from his hand. You rip the top of the envelope open, not bothering with breaking the wax seal that bears the signet of Prince Aldous.

"Dear so-and-so," you start with a dreary, sarcastic sigh. "This is a formal summons to the palace to participate in the presentation of yourself as a candidate for courtship to His Royal Highness Aldous Godfrey. You are required to present yourself at the palace in a weeks's time. Any questions should be directed to the Royal Steward." You set the parchment down, swallowing against the sudden lump in your throat.

"I don't want to do this," You whisper to the empty room. "I don't have any desire to be royal." 

Your father comes around the table, settling in the chair next to you in order to pull you into a tight embrace. You press your face into his shoulder, leaning into his embrace as you accept the reality that you're going to have to go to the palace.

"Maybe if I'm lucky I'll spill wine on him or something and get booted immediately," You mutter into the fabric of your father's tunic.

He runs his hand over your hair and down your back in a soothing manner. "Whatever happens, whichever the results, I will always be proud of you, my darling daughter. And I have no doubts that you will be safe at the palace, under Jonas' watchful eye."

That thought has occured to you. A dim flicker of hope in what seems like a sea of doom. "He won't let anything happen. Maybe I can bribe him to kidnap me," You giggle then, leaning back once more. Your father gives you a tight-lipped smile, but the corners of his eyes crinkle in that familiar, soothing way.

"Well you have a week to get yourself together. Either your Sunday Best, or your washing clothes, which will it be?"

---

"Your summons, my lady?" The guard at the gate peers down at you, an eyebrow raised. He's evidently tired of this particular assignment, and you can't particularly blame him. You hand him the envelope with the letter inside, watching as he removes the summons, skimming over the contents and examining the seal.

"Thank you," the guard says, handing you the letter back. "Continue through that door there, and you will wait in the parlor room with the other ladies being presented today." You give him a nod before gathering your bag into your hands once more and heading for the door that leads into the castle proper.

The morning is bright, sunlight and birdsong filling the courtyard with warmth and beauty. You're loathe to leave it for the uncertainty that is within the castle walls, but alas, with more women arriving behind you, and guards all around keeping a watchful eye, you can't exactly make a grand escape, at least not without making a scene.

Despite your reluctance to participate in this whole debacle, you've resigned yourself to the fact that, if you do indeed try to win the Prince's hand, your father may yet be able to retire in peace and comfort. As the wedded of the heir to the throne, you, and by extension your family, would never be without.

The parlor you enter is well-lit and filled with a soothing breeze. The windows that are usually shuttered against the elements are open now, letting in the smells and sounds of summer. A couple dozen young ladies lounge on the many chairs, cushions, and couches, twittering away like a flock of sparrows. You find yourself a plush cushion to settle on, situated underneath one of the many windows, and pull out a bit of mending from your bag.

As you begin a row of careful stitches on a torn stocking, you let your eyes roam the room. Aside from the young ladies, there are a handful of guards in the room, posted to keep the peace, and to escort the ladies to their audience with the Prince. Every few minutes or so, a harried-looking page will run in, announce the names of several of the women, and then dash away once more.

The ladies themselves are a rainbow of colors, though you cant help but notice that some shine brighter than others. The young noblewomen have come from their estates with bustles and pastels and ropes of pearls. Some even cary boxes and bags of what you can only assume are gifts, though perhaps the better term would be "bribe". The young nobles flounce around and laugh and chat, casting glances over their shoulders at other women in the room, particularly the commoners such as yourself. The truth of the matter is that your Sunday Best will never equate to even the worst of the gowns that those with noble blood boast of.

"Would you care for some refreshment?" A voice from somewhere above you brings you back to the present. You glance up from your needlework, gazing up into the fair face of one of the palace servants. Her plain but practical dress suits her nicely, and she wear a matronly look about her, with her greying hair tucked into a bonnet. "There is wine, cider, ale, and water."

"Some water would be lovely, thank you." You say to the servant with a smile. She gives you one in return, and then moves away to a door that you assume leads to where the refreshments are being stored. In a matter of minutes, you have a cup of cool water in your hands from which to sip from. Then the matron is on her way to the next lady to inquire the same of her.

You're not certain how long you have been sitting on your cushion, basking in the warm sunlight and darning your socks, before a ripple of excitement heralds the return of the pageboy. You lift your gaze to watch the page as he unrolls a slip of parchment, from which he reads several names. You watch those who approach the door when their names are called, noting their mannerisms. All but one of this group seem excited to get their moment with the Prince.

Once they are lead away, the room settles back into its previous state of waiting, and you return once more to the mending in your hands. You count the stitches to keep yourself entertained as the minutes crawl by, humming tunelessly to yourself.

"Is this seat taken?" A familiar voice asks. You glance up to smile at Jenny, gesturing to the cushion beside you.  She fluffs her skirts out and settles next to you, bumping your shoulder with hers as she giggles a little.

"It's a good thing you and I got picked for the same day for our summonings," You remark. "I don't know hardly anyone else in here."

"Oh tosh," Jenny said, rolling her eyes. "There are at least three girls here that we attended early schooling with." She scans the crowd. "There's Elisa Redmont, Genevieve Windmyre, and whats-her-name over there."

You roll your eyes and chuckle, rolling your needle between your fingers. "I wouldn't say I know them," you reply in kind. "We meet occasionally on market days, but I don't actually speak with them, or go out of my way to spend time with them." Patting Jenny's arm, you continue. "That's what I have you for. Who  else do I need?"

"You flatterer," Jenny grins, leaning gracefully against the wall behind her. You notice the book in her hands, one you'd given her a few years' past for a birthday present. Fondness makes your chest tight as you smile at your friend, before settling your back once more against the stone wall.

The time does go by faster with a friend in tow, and before you know it, the pageboy is back once more with a new set of names. "Jennifer Atkins, Wren Rivers, Carmen Pruitt..." And there, at the end of the list of names, you hear your own. You and Jenny share a look before getting to your feet and move to the door along with the others that have been called.

"I'm sure ready for this to be over with," Jenny murmurs in your ear, a note of nervousness tinging her words now. You nod in agreement, clutching the bag at your side.

As you and the others walk down the stone corridors of the castle, you can't help but admire the beauty in the architecture. High ceilings with arching supports, brass candelabras bearing flickering candles, and braziers glowing with fire. In certain places of the castle are well-worn, but ornate rugs to cover the wooden slats, and in other places, delicate but impractical tables stand, boasting beautiful vases of summer wildflowers.

"My Da says that my great-great Grandda was a mason for this castle," jenny murmurs to you, looking at a stone blocks that line the walls. "Can you imagine?"

You shake your head in mute wonder, eyes wide and taking in all the sights.

"You'd think they'd never been inside a castle, the way they stare," Your ears pique up at the sound of a scornful tone. Facing your attention forward, you see three of the young women in the group huddled together and looking over their shoulders at you and Jenny. You can hear their mocking giggles, and grit your teeth as an angry, embarrassed flush fills your cheeks.

"Ignore them," Jenny murmurs to you, though her face is red and her eyebrows furrow as well. "They are just frustrated that they don't get a leg-up by being noble. Normally, the Prince would never even consider a commoner, and here they are, having to associate with us as they vie for position."

Taking your friend's words to heart, you inhale deeply and slowly before letting the air whoosh from your lungs in a steady stream. More focused and centered now, you lift your chin high, continuing to admire the castle you walk through.

Before long, you're brought before an ornate wooden door, heavy and decorated with some sort of mosaic made of precious and semi-precious stones. 

"You will wait here until your name is called," One of the soldiers says. "When your audience with the Prince is over, you will be escorted out to the courtyard from where you entered, and you will be free to return to your respective dwellings." The soldier looks around at the group of women in front of him. "Any questions?" When there are none, he gives a brusque nod, and then raps his knuckles on the heavy wooden door.

The herald looks a little winded, truth be told, his balding white hair all askew. He gives the group of girls, yourself included a slightly weary glance, before unrolling the scroll of parchment he has in his hands. "Let's start with Wren Rivers, shall we?"

One by one, the girls are called. Jenny is in the middle of the pack, and after she is  escorted to the throne room, time seems to drag on infinitely longer.  You lean with your back against the cool stone wall, peering up at a high and shuttered window that lets in a small crack of sunlight. The otherwise dim entryway is lit by torches, their flames flickering and dancing to some song unknown to you.

Soon enough, you are alone once more, save for the guards who remain with you. In an attempt to steady your nervous fidgeting, you clasp your hands behind you, humming tunelessly as you begin to count flagstones. One... Two... Three... Four...

"You look familiar, my lady." You glance up from your counting towards one of the guards, who is looking at you with a queer expression. "Have you been around the palace before?"

You shake your head, rocking back on your slippered heels a little, and then forward onto your toes. "No, I can't say that I have. My brother, however, is a Knight and guard for the castle here. That might be why I seem familiar."

The guard grunts, giving you a once-over, before dropping the topic and returning to his watch. You return to your counting, now timing your breaths with the even and odd counts.

Somewhere around three hundred, the heavy door opens, and the herald says your name. Despite his tired expression, his eyes are kind, and he gives you a soft smile to match your nervous one. "Are you ready?" 

The nod you give is a little shaky, but you manage it nonetheless. The herald enters the room and announces you as you step through into the hall beyond. 

The high ceilings continue here, the rafters arching above your head. Torches in brackets along the wall remain unlit at this time, allowing for natural light to enter the room from the lofted windows. The ground underfoot is smooth flagstone, though as you raise your gaze to the end of the room where the dais and the throne sits, you notice a small recess into the floor, like a remarkably shallow amphitheater, and a beautiful mosaic which decorates the floor in front of the throne.

The king's throne has been replaced with a smaller, but no less elegant one. The Crown Prince is settled in the throne, draped in fine silk and velvet, and with a silver wine goblet in his hand. Behind him stand his parents, and to the sides of the dais is the full guard of the King's Men. The urge to twitch when you notice familiar faces in the audience rises up, a flash flood of heat in your face.

As it is, you brave the walk down to the mosaicked floor, and dip into a curtsy as low and as graceful as you can manage.

"Rise," Prince Aldous says, and you do so, setting your cloth bag behind you so as to not be a distraction. A moment of silence drags on as you wait for the Prince to finish looking you over. "You look familiar, My Lady," he finally says, bringing his gaze up to meet yours. "Have we met?"

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure, your highness." You clasp your hands in front of you, biting the inside of your cheek to remind yourself not to roll your eyes at the increasingly annoying reminder how much you look like Jonas. "But my brother is a knight of the realm, it's possible that you are thinking of him." Out of the corner of your eye, You see Ser MacTavish grin, apparently recalling the conversation you'd had with him and his comrades at the festival.

"And your brother is...?" The prince's gaze is intense, boring into you.

"Ser Jonas, of the same surname as I," Recognition flares in the Prince's eyes, and you watch for a queer moment as a handful fo emotions flits across his face, before his expression melts into a smooth mask once more.

"I see," He nods slowly. "You and he share a striking resemblance," Another heartbeat of silence, and Prince Aldous Adjusts his seat, leaning forward a little more as he combs his pale hair off of his forehead. "Tell me about yourself, My lady."

You hesitate, gnawing on your lip slightly. Searching for the right words, your gaze flicks over the others in the room. The King and Queen watch you with rapt attention, and you don't dare hold their gazes for long, before shifting to glance at the knights. Ser Simon in his black armor, Ser Mactavish with his kilt. Sers John and Kyle have their heads tilted towards each other slightly, as if in the middle of conversation, their gazes on you. You feel the older's dark blue eyes on you more intently than most. 

"I am the lowborn second child of a blacksmith." You finally say, rocking from your toes to your heels. "My mother passed away a few years ago in the Summer Sickness, Leaving just my father, my brother and I. My brother, as I mentioned, is a knight serving in your Highness's service.

"My father is aging, and recently had to retire due to an injury. The Summer Sickness also left him much weaker than he used to be, his heart aches for my mother, I feel.

"I bake for a local tavern to earn some coin, and serve in the evenings to travelers at some local inns. It gets us by, between my income and my brother's, we are luckier than most to benefit from the generosity of our peers and superiors.

"I know my letters and my numbers; I used to assist my father in keeping record of his expenses. I enjoy reading when I can afford the time. I can sew and mend, and I am learning knitting from a friend. I can cook and maintain a household, and with the help of Jonas, I am a decent seat on a horse."

"Can you wield any weapon?" Prince Aldous asks, brows furrowed. 

"Not well, Your Highness," Your hands run along the sleeves of your forearms. "My brother has made sure that I have some small skill in knife-work, and he bids me bring one with me when I leave the cottage unattended. Though today I lave left it at home, as you can see." The spot at your waist where the small knife in its worn leather sheathe would normally hang from your belt is indeed vacant.

"As a child I had some experience with the sling, but that would be the extent of my weapons knowledge."

"Do you play any instruments? Perform any art?"

You think of the lute that your mother used to play. "Unfortunately I have not had the pleasure of being able to learn the finer arts. Especially since mother died." You trace the line of your lips with a fingertip. "My family isn't as poor as others... but it is hard to justify luxuries such as instrument or dance lessons when we are still struggling to get by." 

Prince Aldous stares at you for a long moment before getting to his feet, and steps down from the dais. You watch with wide eyes as he walks towards you with a swaggering charm. Those remaining on the dais, as if surprised at the Prince's movements, murmur amongst one another. Ser John steps down as well, shadowing whom you now assume to be his protective charge.

The Prince's movements are smooth, like the strides of a dancer, or mabey like one of the great mountain cats that stalk the outer shanties of the town. As he draws even with you, you have to tilt your head up to remain meeting his gaze; he's quite a bit taller than you. You fight the urge to draw back a step as the prince bends his head down towards you, close enough that his breath fans your face as he takes one of your hands into his own. They are warmer than you thought they'd be.

"Have you had any lovers before me, my Lady?" His voice is pitched low enough that only you, and maybe the guard standing at his shoulder, can hear. All the same, your cheeks flame red, and your ears burn in indignation. "Do you currently have a lover? Are you here unwillingly?"

"I don't see how my lovers, past or present, is your business, Your Highness," You mirror his lowered tone, but there is a bite of frost to your words. You watch as Aldous' spine snaps straight, his face tilted down with an unreadable expression. Oh Damn, I've done it now. You press your lips into a thin line, but make no move to remove your hand from his.

"Because," The words are drawn out, as if he is speaking with a child, "I need to know if you will be loyal to me, or if there is a risk of unfaithfulness with someone who might be my competition for your beauty." One of his thumbs, long and thin, strokes the back of your hand with a feather's touch. "I also need to ensure that whomever I chose will not give me bastard heirs, female or male."

"There is no one that you need to be concerned of," You say with measured tone, despite your irritation, "The only men in my life are my brother and father."

Prince Aldous considers you for a few more moments, before pulling back and spinning on his heel, leaving you for the dais once more. He nearly shoulder-checks the Captain, who takes a step back to let him pass. Ser John turns his gaze towards you for an instant, his gaze scrutinizing. The appraisal takes only a second, and then he is stepping back up into the dais to his previous station.

"That is all the questions I have for you, my Lady. You are dismissed."

You don't linger to ponder the brusqueness of the dismissal, nor the queer feeling settling in your gutt. With another curtsy, you gather your bag into your hands and allow one of the guards to escort you from the throne room.

Back out in the courtyard, you blink at the bright sunlight, shading your eyes as you peer up into the sky. It is clear and breezy, a fair day. A direct contrast to the storm brewing in your own thoughts.

"How did it go?" Jenny steps out from a shady spot beneath a sprawling willow. You approach her, sighing through your nose. 

"It went," 

Jenny chuckles at your brevity, reaching out to catch the crook of your elbow. She tows you along beside her as she makes her way across the courtyard, back to the main road that leads into town. "Nothing of interest to note? I'll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours."

"He recognized my resemblance to Jonas."

"Everyone does. Are you sure you two aren't twins?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Anyways, he asked about the things I could do, and I guess about the things I can't do. He asked about if I had any lovers, too."

"He did?" Jenny's eyebrows raise. "That's a rather intimate question."

"If you think so, then you will love how he asked me!"

Before long, the grey clouds are blown away from Jenny's gushing and laughing as you dramatize your experience, and as you both descend into the village, you let your cares tumble away for a little while, like pebbles in the bottom of a stream.

---

The phases of the moon pass, and you almost forget the looming doom that hangs over your head. Each day, Prince Aldous meets more and more young women of the kingdom, some of which will be trying their very best to impress him. You're grateful for the number of women, frankly, and the length of the process. "The more women there are to choose from, the less likely I'll be one of them," You tell your father over supper one evening, nearly a full moon having passed since your audience.

"Aye, that may be true," Your father murmurs, a twinkle in his eye. "However, he would be a fool not to pick the most beautiful young woman his kingdom has to offer."

"If I didn't know any better, I would think you're trying to get rid of me!" You exclaim, the grin on your face betraying the fake outrage in your voice. You father laughs deeply, his deep rumble dissolving into a slough of hacking coughs. 

As quickly as it came, the good mood is gone. You get to your feet and move to your father's shoulder. "That's sounding worse, Da," You murmur, fingers combing through his thinning salt-and-pepper hair.

"I'll live," You father rasps, clearing his throat once more. "I've been through worse, and it's yet to kill me."

Despite his assurances, you continue to worry, even as your father readies for bed. You make sure that he is settled comfortably in the one bed in the house, before you yourself retire to your pallet situated by the dying embers in the hearth. The night is sleepless, and when the sun begins to rise, and the roosters crow, you're scrubbing your face with cold water, sighing and the warped image of your face in the cracked silver mirror that hangs over the washbasin. Plum-colored smudges adorn your under eyes, and you have no face powder with which to cover them as the rich girls do. 

Muttering curses under your breath, you search for your basket, and the coin purse that resides next to it. "I'm going to town, Da," You call as you exit the cottage. "I'll be back in a while." You hear a muted affirmation from your father in the back room, and take it as your cue to leave.

Your skirts wind around your legs as the breeze blows past, bringing with it the fresh smells of produce from the market. Your pace picks up almost of its own accord, your mouth watering at the thought of a leg of lamb for dinner, maybe a fresh piece of fruit. Townspeople already flood the main road leading up to the village square, and you take care to keep your basket and purse close by.

You are neck-deep into negotiations with the butcher when you hear it: the sound of a royal herald. Your stomach does an acrobatics routine as you hastily agree on a sum with the butcher, gathering the wrapped meat in your basket before heading for the center of town. 

It's not hard to locate the herald. He is standing on a stack of boxes, to be above the gathered crowd. His garb is nicer than the average commoner, a sign of his station. Standing at the edge of the crowd, you've situated yourself under an awning for the shade, but you can hear the herald clear as day as he begins to speak.

"People of the kingdom, hear the words of your King! The Summons have been finished, and the selection has been made. Of all the women in the kingdom, ten will be brought to the palace to win the Prince's hand. These ten women are as follows: Ami Orund, Joan Bavent, Ysoria Rainecourt, Jennifer Atkins, Natale Parry, Sabine Vauville, Lydia Gueron, Floretia Eveque, Cyrila Tirel, and-"

Hearing your name roll off of a stranger's tongue is disconcerting, especially in this context. You lean back against the wall behind you, steadying yourself as the truth of the matter sets in. As the herald continues his speech, you tune him out, eyes scanning the crowd. Which woman would have wanted to take my place? You wonder, gripping your basket with whiote-knuckled tighness. Some people in the crowd are looking your way. In this little villiage below the castle, it is not uncommon for everyone to be at least semi-aquainted with each other.  To your dismay, it appears there are quite a few aquaintances in the crowd. 

Warmth creeps into your face as you edge around the crowd, just wanting to go home. People whisper as you pass, and you duck your head, walking all the faster.

Someone beats you there. Jenny stands in front of your door, face pale, apron wringing in her hands. You both gaze at each other in wordless shock, as the fact of the matter sets in. You invite her into the house with little preamble, to prepare for the ordeal to come.

tag list: (hope i did this right ;-;)

@adnauseum11 @the-californicationist @strawberrygato @marierg

#john price #john price x reader #writing #midieval #tagging is exhausting

[spyofthestorm]

every time i think about will being in 2022 it's like.... he survived the upside down. it's dead, and he finally feels free. he's been living without the feeling of death breathing down his neck for years! yes, remembering everything that happened to him like his possession and especially his disappearance hurts. but it can't hurt him anymore. he's been extremely strong about his past and he's grown.

he creates art and hangs out with his friends. especially his husband, mike. there are days when the entire party meets up for dinner, talking about how their lives have been since after the upside down, where they all head in different directions of life. they're all discovering new stuff and thinking about innovative ideas. as the world grew older, they did too. but that moment made them feel like they time traveled back into 1983. when they were all young.

i can only imagine going through what will did and then after a fateful year, the evil haunting him and the rest of the party is gone. of course, a little flicker of the light or the booming noise of the movie theater might scare him. when something's gone, there's always a little bit left.

but it cannot hurt him. because 34-35 years ago the upside down was killed. and it's never coming back.

#it's a sunday and i'm on break i needed to express this #i'm doing one for robin later #actually i was gonna add robin to this post but then it would've been too long #but like do you get what i'm trying to say #everything that used to hurt and scare him can't anymore because he knows for damn sure it's not there #i see will as a very strong character #in which he is #will can get scared as well strong people aren't made of steel #but he knows it's not the upside down #like do you get what i mean or am i just bad at this #anyway it's a little tiny tired drabble #back to my nap #will byers #byler #<<< don't you guys love will or smth ..... cannot believe you like that bowl cut boy #not even gonna add the slash j

[focalove]

Bathing with him

Cw! : gn!reader....... with some mentions of maybe f!/m!reader, mentions of d*ck, nothing too explicit. written before sunday & aven release!

Aventurine

✦ 01 bb come home the kids miss u :(

✦ 02 Though, by all means, Aventurine never or rarely reveal his ✦ bare naked self infront of anyone. So congratulations for achieving this level of intimacy with him

✦ 03 At first he'd be so cocky and teaseful when you asked him if you wanted to bath with him

✦ 04 "Oh? princess/prince-y here wants to bathe with me? well what's the occasion, or are you just that touch starved?" he snickered with a smirk of a devil in his face

✦ 05 I also think he'd also ask you to undress you to like "sweetie… I don't think I can take off my shirt… can you help me?" and he would be dangling his chest window area

✦ 06 and his pants too maybe, to show you his d---

✦ 07 anywayz, when both of you finally get in the bathtub, he'd be so shy

✦ 08 pls lead him!! princess needs his directions on how to do it correctly :<

Aventurine had a big bathroom. Big bathtub, a lot of space, fully furnished bathroom, a complete set of bath commodities. For you, it was like a dream bathroom. And there you are, sitting on the brims of the bathtub. The water tempeture was warm and the fragrance of the soap that had been mixed with the water was devine.

The door opened, revealing Aventurine in a towel around his waist. You can hear the footsteps behind you. An indication he's coming. "The water is set, you can get it in you'd like" you played with the water just a bit.

Aventurine put a hand onto your shoulder and gave you a kiss on the cheek "Mhm sure, arent you getting in honey?"

"I am, i am.. what, you need help with your towel?"

"Is that an offer, sweetheart?"

"…forget I said anything then" he snorted and smirked hearing your retort

As soon as both of you had done removing eachother's towels, both of you get in the bath tub.

Aventurine, gets in slowly, almost like as if he was scared to break the water itself. Adorable, really. To see a man who acts so smug and so sure of himself, express nervousness when he's just taking a bath with his one and only lover. You noticed his nervous behavior and you cant help but let out a light chuckle, "Scared much, Avey?".

In which he reply "Nonsense, lovely." however to contrast his words, he stammered on his words he spoke. It's not that noticeable, so he hopes you don't notice it.

yet ofcouse you would notice it and scooch over to him closer and give him a little kiss on his shoulder and snake an arm on the back of his waist. Just a way to tease him, just a bit.

He flinched slightly by your touch and scoffed "Devil much huh? oh sorry, I meant hell spawn." you laugh, "Not my fault that handsome here is so stiff. Come on, I'll wash your hair and you wash mine"

He let you do as you please with him. It felt oddly nice to have someone taking care of him for once in a lifetime. You do it so gently with him too, now how could he not feel at least slightly emotional when only such a few people have given him comfort and almost all of them have died? And now here you are, taking care of him like he's a stray cat.

He just can't help it but say

".... I'm glad I met you, I love you, sweetheart."

Jing Yuan

✦ 01 Big cat. Very big cat.

✦ 02 Big cat flop onto the bath tub

✦ 03 Big cat will ask u to wash his hair (uncertain he would do the same tho)

✦ 04 Will sleep if u take too long to shampoo his hair.

✦ 05 Cold water can do the trick to wake him up

✦ 06 Would probably pull you in a huge hug too.

When Jing Yuan got on the bathtub, it was almost as if he hogged all the space that were available. "Hey, how come I don't get a room?" You complained. Which he replies with a lazy smirk "you can just sit on my lap?"

An awkward pause fills up the room, and the longer the pause, the more contagious the little pink blush is on your cheeks which he just cannot help himself to laugh. "Well? Would you like to, dove?" In which you just let out a whine.

Eventually, you cave in and give into his whims. It's not like there's any other way to get in the bath tub without any of his body parts being touched by you. Now here you are, sitting on top of his lap, looking like a confused cat, don't know where to leap next.

It was a sight for sore eyes. You looked cute, now he can't help but let out a playful chuckle and bring you forward to him. "Why so stiff? Is it your first time seeing me stripped? I don't think so…" Worst part, he gave you his signature little lazy smile, looking like he has no wrongdoings.

"That's… Irrelevant, just let me do your hair, baobei." Hence, he let his head down and let you untie his ponytail, and do the rest

While you were washing his hair, his eyelids suddenly felt heavy. He couldn't help it, it felt so good to have your delicate yet skillful fingers all over his scalp. It just so happens that you were doing too great of your job.

"Baobei, it's done~!" You twisted his hair and stuck it into the top of his head. "Baobei?" You called him out again. No response.

Out of suspicion, you raise his head to show his sleeping face. Ah, in all of the places in the universe.. he just had to sleep at this moment, you thought. Abruptly, you had a really… Devious plan to wake him up.

Jing Yuan really just needed to rinse the shampoo away and he'd be done. But instead of using the warm water, just use the icy cold water to wake him up. And perhaps instead of using the shower, why not just pour a bucket full of it? That's exactly what you did.

Sure, it's quite literally deceitful, but at least it gets the job done. It's hard to wake up this big general, so a bucket of cold water could do.

You took a small bucket lying around the bathroom and filled it up with cold water. Little did you know, Jing Yuan was already awake when you were done with his hair.

You swear you didn't feel the water vibrations changing, but somehow, he's already in your shoulder while you were still not done filling the bucket.

"Mmnh… What are you doing my Qīn qīn? Not trying to splash me with the cold water aren't you?"

Drat. How did he even—

"No-no… O-ofcourse not.."

"Then what is it for, hm?"

"I…" You decided to give up from the act. Goddamnit, you were so close!

"you know what? yes, I was, now.. have a taste—!" You splashed the water into his face. Yet, no response. Not even a reaction, single flinch, nothing… Literally unfazed.

"Mhm, it takes more than that to even make me flinch, baobei dear."

Sunday

✦ 01 Asking to bath with Sunday isn't really that hard... But he would reassure you if you want to do it, it's a very intimate action to bathe with one another.

✦ 02 But bathing with Sunday is like bathing with an angel in a cloud

✦ 03 He'd be so soft, delicate. As if scared to even hurt you, make a wrong move.

✦ 04 Though, as delicate as he can be, he expects you to do the same.

✦ 05 He would let you wash his wings, but be gentle with them!

✦ 06 Once again, his touch is so gentle. Like imagine him washing your face with his thumbs just circling your cheeks

"Dear, turn your head downwards for me please?" He asked. Your boyfriend, Sunday, couldn't have been more gentler. He's washing your hair and your whole body with firm yet gentle strokes. You did as he asked and turned your head downwards. "Good girl/boy..." and thus felt the warm water wash away all the foam that covered your entire frame.

"Mm... Shouldn't I be the one praising you, angel?" He let out a silent chuckle "And who's being the obedient one here, hm?" It was a somewhat convenient playful banter between the two of you. Convincing the other that they're better.

Once you're done, Sunday gave one last splash of water to your hair and scrub off any remaining shampoo or soap that still be sticking around. "There, all done." He gave a wet kiss on the forehead. Which you unintentionally let out a giggle. "Hey this isn't fair, can't I bathe you too?" You note, it was true, all this time who's getting the royalty treatment is just you. "Do you want to? If so you could do that.."

An unanticipated idea came up from your oh so brilliant head "How about I wash your wings?"

"..." He hesitated just a bit. If truth be told, he was quite... Anxious to lend you his wings. Just what if you accidentally pulled one of the feathers? "How about my.. body, dear? My hair?" He recommended

"I mean— sure.. but can I wash your wings? Pleasee?" You insisted and pleaded. You even crawled your way to his chest, he felt compelled to kiss that face of yours and hug you tight. Just how can he reject you? "Fine, fine... But be extremely gentle." He sighed.

You started on with his right wing. Once you've held it, the wing flinches by accident. You poured the soap into your hand and started caressing the tip of his wing, cleaning all the dirt or dust that was there. "Does this hurt, sunday?" Through which he denies "no, absolutely not, darling. You're doing great" and purred as you do his wings

As you did the other wing, he kept purring like a pigeon being petted. Perhaps it was to imply that he was very enjoying this.

"Enjoying this much, love?"

"Very" he cood "oh, and thank you, I love you darling.." you giggled in response as you rinse both of his wings "I love you too."

✧ XTRA : i fking gentlemenfied sunday dawg :sob: also this was vv rushed, thats why it keeps getting shorter from aven to sunday (Aven is 430 words n sunday is 400 words) but oddly enough jy is 560 words💀 cringed so bad in jy's part tho like i speedrun that shit & gonna write guitarist bf kazuha after this

#jing yuan x reader #sunday x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine hsr #aventurine fluff #star rail aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #jing yuan #jing yuan hsr #jing yuan honkai sta #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader fluff #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x y/n #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #sunday honkai star rail #sunday hsr #hsr sunday #star rail sunday #sunday x reader fluff #sunday x you #sunday x y/n #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x y/n #honkai star rail men #hsr men x reader

[chronicowboy]

His breakup with Marisol is about as unremarkable as the rest of their relationship. There's no catastrophic muffin mess in his kitchen or divorce papers. Just a quiet I don't think this is working out, I'm sorry. Marisol hadn't even cried. She'd just nodded like she'd been waiting for it and left, didn't even need to grab anything from the house before she went and really that just reassured Eddie that this was the right choice.

So, his breakup with Marisol is unremarkable, except that it's not. It's pretty fucking remarkable when he thinks about it because it's not just that they weren't working out, not just that he really didn't care about spending time with her, not just the clench in his gut every time she touched him. No. It's pretty fucking remarkable because he realises he's in love with his best friend.

That's what pushes him over the edge, gives him the last kick he needs to actually break things off with her. Because Eddie may have sworn himself to secrecy about it the moment he realised, but he could never string someone along just because he couldn't have the real someone he wanted.

It's a fucking revelation once he has it. Not a ton of bricks, but the sun peeking out from behind the clouds on the greyest of days, bright and blinding. And the way Eddie has always thought of Buck in terms of sunshine maybe should have tipped him off sooner, but with the way Buck has been beaming over the past few weeks. Well. Eddie doesn't really think he can be blamed for only just taking his sunglasses off and daring to look directly at the light.

And, okay, so Eddie maybe makes it a full week before he decides his self-sworn secrecy absolutely is not a viable option when Buck walks through life now like a drop of sunshine in human form. It's after Buck leaves the Diaz house, walking out from a day of giggles and joy at the go-kart track they'd finally managed to convince Chris to be seen with them at, leaving behind a cosy heat like sun-warmed skin, that Eddie realises he cannot go another day without telling Buck that he's desperately, deeply in love with him.

And so, that's how Eddie finds himself at Buck's door on a random Sunday morning, knocking for the first time since Natalia waltzed out of the picture. Buck opens it a few moments later looking perfectly sleep-rumpled and soft and downright golden where he's backlit by the early morning sunlight pooling in the loft.

"Eddie," Buck breathes out, eyes darting up the stairs before refocusing on Eddie and what must be the most hopelessly lovesick expression painted across his face. "H-hey, what are you doing here?"

"I, um." Eddie takes a deep breath, suddenly nervous, and wipes his clammy palms on his jeans. "I wanted to talk to you about something. Now a good time?" And Buck must hear the slightly shaky steel in his voice because the surprise on his face morphs into a concern so quintessentially Buck that Eddie just wants to kiss it away.

"Y-yeah, of course, come on in." Buck holds the door open for him, and Eddie migrates to the fridge as Buck closes the door with the gentlest touch. "So, um, what's up?"

"I..." Eddie swallows against the heart in his throat, loses himself in the shining blue of Buck's eyes like an ocean he'd be more than happy to drown in. "I broke up with Marisol last week."

"Oh, Eddie." Buck slumps, and Eddie tries not to think that it looks a little like relief. "I'm so sorry, man. That sucks."

"No, no." Eddie waves him off with a laugh. "It's good. Was a long time coming actually." He shakes his head at himself. "I think I was dating her just to tick a box, you know? Realised you probably shouldn't be more excited about a phone call from your new buddy than one from your kinda long-term girlfriend. You definitely shouldn't be relieved when you see your best friend in the restaurant you're taking her to and disappointed when you realise he's just leaving."

And then, Buck blushes, ducks his head, does that little smile that could light up every house on South Bedford Street just like Eddie had been hoping for.

"Yeah." Buck looks up at him from under his lashes. "Probably not."

It bolsters Eddie. Buck's sunshine giving him that one last push he needs.

"There was something else I wanted to say," Eddie starts. And there isn't really any fear in him, knows they'll make it through this no matter what, just an overwhelming sense of peace to come. "I..." A deep breath, gathering all his love and devotion in his lungs so it's ready to pour out on his next inhale and—

A groan from upstairs has the words dying in his throat. A masculine groan. And then:

"Evan?"

"D-down here," Buck calls back.

Eddie can't take his eyes off the loft, stuck there like a car crash he can't look away from as a very shirtless Tommy Kinard appears at the top of the stairs and quickly blanches.

"Shit. Um..." He looks down at Buck in a panic.

Eddie finally manages to drag his eyes away from the very chiselled curveball that just hit him at a hundred miles per hour and finds Buck's face. Small, scared, shaken. He knows the feeling. And because he loves Buck, because of just how deeply he loves Buck, it's the easiest thing in the world to lock that love away and let his face crack into the most genuine of grins. Because if Tommy's been the thing making Buck shine like every fucking star in the sky, well Eddie will absolutely not be getting between them.

"You've been so happy," Eddie chokes out, still smiling.

"I have," Buck whispers.

"And I'm so happy for you." Eddie covers the distance between them in three long strides and pulls Buck into a hug so tight and clinging he's sure it's a confession in and of itself, but Buck only buries in deeper, taking shaky little breaths in the crook of Eddie's neck.

"Thank you," Buck murmurs into his skin. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut against the sudden rush of tears.

"Sorry you didn't get to tell me on your own terms," he murmurs back, letting Buck pull away, but lingering with a hand on his hip, on his shoulder. He should maybe be worried about what this could look like to Tommy who had basically never heard anything apart from rambles about Buck, except when he glances up the stairs, Tommy is nowhere to be seen.

"I was going to tell you," Buck rushes out. "I-I just wasn't sure how."

"That's okay," Eddie says. It's okay. It's okay. "Well, I'll stop gate-crashing for the... Second time?" He raises an eyebrow, and Buck flushes a pink Eddie will never ever get to taste. "Yeah, okay. That makes sense." He remembers the pure fear on Buck's face, the indecision on Tommy's and the sudden tightening of his own chest despite his smile. "I'll leave you guys to it." He clears his throat. "Kinard, if you hurt him, they'll never find your body," he shouts up the stairs.

"Copy that, Diaz," Tommy shouts back.

"I'm really proud of you, Buck." Eddie wraps him in another hug then, a quick thing, just one last touch before Eddie seals every desire away for good.

"Thanks, Eddie." Buck walks him to the door, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and Eddie wants to hug him again. Wants so badly it hurts. But if he hugs Buck again, he doesn't think he'll ever let go. "See you at work tomorrow."

"See you at work." Eddie prays Buck is too distracted to hear the wobble in his voice.

"Wait, sorry, what did you want to talk about?"

Eddie freezes on the threshold, the stutter of his heart painful like he's back in a suit store, and he catches himself on the doorframe with a shaking hand.

"It can wait."

#sami rambles #sami? writing? who is she? #anyway i wrote this in the 15 minutes i had before i had to leave this morning so it's bad #but i couldn't get the idea out of my head so. #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck x eddie #buddie #911 spec #tommy kinard #911 fic #911 ficlet #buck x tommy #bucktommy #buddie ficlet #911 spec fic #<- not really but technically i guess. idk just to be safe and sure.

[letstrip-teamblue]

Treat you like a lady

• Your boyfriend doesn’t pay enough attention to you. Chris doesn’t like that.

• This is extremely cheesy!! That’s just how I am. Contains smut.

• Word count: 2,031

Sunday

Today is a weekend like any other; you’re lounging on the triplets’ couch.

The tv is playing as background noise. Chris is on his laptop working on new Fresh Love designs while you lay next to him scrolling pinterest. You've known each other long enough that you can enjoy each other's company without forcing conversation. Simply being around him allows you to relax, and vice versa. You can’t find that with many people.

A sex scene causes the pair of you to look up. You exchange looks and chuckle like teenagers at it.

Chris breaks the awkward silence.

“Is it actually that good or is she playing it up?”

“Don’t know.” I shrug and go back to my phone.

I can see Chris’s brows furrow from my peripheral vision.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve never had a guy go down on me before.”

“What?”

You look up from your phone.

“…What.” You echo.

“No, what do you mean you’ve never had head before? You have a boyfriend. You’ve had a boyfriend for 3 months.”

Your cheeks get warm.

Think of a way to brush this off.

“It’s not a big deal. Not everyone’s into that.”

He seems stunned, gaze focused on his sneakers.

“... Do you do it for him?”

A sigh leaves your lips, “Chris-”

“No, listen to me. If he’s not reciprocating then the problem clearly isn't that he's uncomfortable. It's that he's selfish.”

Who does Chris think he is that he can judge your love life?

“This is none of your business.” You scoff.

“I think I should go.” You stand up and grab your bag.

Chris doesn’t give up yet.

“Okay, forget about that part for a second. When’s the last time he took you out? When's the last time he surprised you?”

You're struggling to swallow down a still-beating heart. You're avoiding eye contact with an angry version of one of your closest friends, and you’re trying to block out the possibility that what he's saying could be true.

“I’ll see you later, Chris.”

7:00 pm

Chris: I'm sorry. I overstepped earlier. just think you deserve better.

You read and reread the message. Typing out a reply and deleting it. Maybe what you need is space. You put your phone on do not disturb and crawl under the covers.

Trying to distance yourself from Chris would prove to be a waste of time because you end up having a dream about him.

“Hey gorgeous” a voice whispers in your ear.

It sounds familiar but there’s no one else with you in this room, so you can’t match the voice with a face. Whoever it’s coming from, their voice sounds like silk.

You're twisting your head around to try and find the source. Whoever’s in here with you finds that amusing because laughter follows.

“I'm over here, goof.”

It’s him. He walks over to you with a smile on his face and those big blue eyes.

“What are you doing here?” you asked

“I just missed you.” he says as he grabs your hand and twirls you around.

1:12 am

Well, that’s a first.

Monday

Chris opened the front door.

“Hey, I’m so glad you wanted to come over.” He said smiling.

Your face however wasn’t as cheerful.

“Yeah about that,”

You cleared your throat and walked inside.

“I think we should spend a little time apart. Like a refresh.”

His expression dropped instantly. You can’t keep eye contact. It’s too hard.

“What?”

“It’s not personal, it’s-”

“Did he put you up to this?”

“Chris , this is my relationship, stay out of it.” You say sternly.

“How can I when you’re all I think about?”

The air in the room gets thick.

“What?”

“I mean,” He scrunched his eyes and rubs his forehead. Flipping through the pages of his brain for the right words.

“I could treat you better than him.”

You laugh, “What are you talking about?”

He slowly brings his hand up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“You know it’s true.”

He takes a step toward me, his breath on my cheeks.

“I can make you feel good.”

You involuntarily gulped, which caused him to smirk. He tries to hide it.

Your mouth moves but no sound emits from it. You feel paralyzed.

He must be bluffing… right?

“Let me show you.” he whispered, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You don’t know exactly when he stepped closer but your noses are now touching.

I need to stop this.

“I have a boyfriend.” You say in a meek voice.

Chris very lightly put his right hand on your stomach. You can feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt.

“Does he make you nervous like I do?”

Chris' eyes fall to your lips.

“If you want me to stop, I will. Just say the word.”

Shit.

Soft, pink lips touch yours. You don’t kiss back but don’t run away either. Just wanting to take in the dimensions and texture of his lips. He starts to pull back.

Wait, don’t go anywhere.

You press your lips forward, chasing him.

It makes him smile into the kiss, which in turn makes you smile. The weird sensation causes you both to start laughing.

He straightens up.

“I wanna be with you too. Wo don’t know why I was ever with him in the first place.”

Chris can’t contain his smile. He covers his mouth.

“Sorry. I know I should be more… apologetic? I guess? But I’m not. I want you all to myself.”

“Yes, you've made that quite clear.”

You pull Chris back in for a kiss by his hoodie, it makes his insides stir. He places both his hands on the sides of your face, deepening the kiss.

You pull back for air.

“I should go tell him it’s over before things go any further.”

“Ok.”

But Chris goes right back to kissing you. Sliding his thumb across your cheek.

It’s so dreamy. You have to will yourself to stop.

“Ok I’m serious this time!” You chuckle. “Can I come back tonight?”

“I’d really like that.”

4:15 pm

Me: just left his house. whew.

Chris: im proud of u and so grateful.

6:00pm

“How long have you liked me?”

“Almost our entire friendship. I don’t think I realize it until you started dating Andrew.”

Laying on Chris’s chest is the happiest you’ve felt in months. You two have been talking about all the things that made you fall for each other. He’s been rubbing your back for the past 20 minutes but decides to put his hand under your shirt to enhance the feeling.

You sighed and relaxed even more on top of him, closing your eyes.

“Damn, you have some knots right here.”

“Ugh, yeah. That’s where I carry stress.”

“Here, lay on your stomach. I bet I can relieve it.”

Chris moves so you can lay flat. Once you’re comfortable he straddles your hips and brings his hand to the hem of your shirt.

“Is it ok if I bring this up?”

“Mhm.”

He lifts your shirt to where your bra starts ,then gets to work.

Maybe it’s the skin to skin contact, or the fact that your muscles were tense, but his hands feel heavenly. You can’t help but let out a string of sighs.

“That feeling good?”

“Yes, oh my god. Thank you so much.”

He chuckles. “Anything for my girl.”

After a few minutes of the same motions he decides to explore new territory.

He rubs his hands over your hips, your ribs, and now your thighs.

“Seems like there’s a lot of heat coming from your legs, baby.”

“You’re such a good massager it’s hardly my fault.” You tease back.

You try to close your legs together but he doesn’t like that. Keeping a hand right between them.

He brings his mouth right next to your ear. Lowering his voice.

“Do you need relief somewhere else, baby?”

While he talks he maneuvers his hand so it’s nearly flat against your clothed center.

You try to keep it together. You can’t already be at a loss for words.

You nod into his pillow.

“Turn over for me. Let me see that pretty face.”

Your cheeks heat up immediately as you position yourself on your back. The two of you make eye contact and any anxiety you had about intimacy with Chris is gone.

“We can stop whenever you want.” He says before kissing you.

“Let me show you how a real man behaves.”

He smirks and lowers himself to your stomach. Kissing your happy trail. Leaving tiny bites.

Since you’re wearing sweats he slides them off in seconds, taking your underwear with them. He tosses them over his shoulder and they hit some things in his dresser, causing them to fall. It makes you giggle but Chris is entranced by the sight before him.

“Jesus Christ.” He says to himself.

He runs his nose where your leg meets your hip. Kissing further and further. Creating a puddle before he even touches you. He licks your inner thighs. Painting them with purple marks.

Finally, his mouth is where you crave it. He’s apprehensive at first but once you let out your first moan it’s all over for him.

Chris sucks your clit and your mind goes blank. Nothing ever felt like this before.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me.”

When he goes back down he licks a stripe from the bottom of your pussy to your clit.

Your back arches off the bed.

“That’s it.” he says into my skin.

He’s lapping at your folds like it’s water and he’s been in a drought. Grabbing onto your thighs to make sure you don’t go anywhere. Not that you'd want to, but his actions do cause quite a bit of squirming.

“God, you’re everything.”

It almost seemed like he was saying it to himself. Like he couldn’t believe youre real.

“Next time you want something done right, come to me.”

“Fuck yes.” You moan.

When he lifts his face up again, your juices are dripping down to his neck. You’re so mesmerized by the sight you don’t register what he's saying. It just sounds like white noise.

Chris tsks.

“Looks like I fucked you dumb, huh? Poor thing.”

“Shut up.”

You push his face back down. He starts fucking you with his tongue.

“Yes ma’am.”

Jesus

Your thighs tighten around his neck, he squeezes them back as a response.

“You taste so sweet, baby. Like syrup.”

You can’t do anything more than whimper and grind into his face.

Chris grabbed the hand that was clenching the bedsheets and guided it to his hair. You happily thread your fingers through.

He touches you like you're all he asked god for. The sounds coming from you are his favorite song. This is the alchemy he does.

“Oh god,” your voice goes up an octave.

“Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

“Please, so close.”

“Cmon, be a good girl and cum on my face.”

He made you a whimpering mess. Arousal dripping down your legs, down his lips, on the sheets. Chris continues to reach his tongue deep inside you while drawing figure eights on your clit.

In an instant your vision goes black.

The next minute was spent shaking and catching your breath. Goosebumps littered all over my body.

You don’t know when but at some point Chris must’ve turned you so you were laying on your side. He pulled a lightweight blanket over you and was now playing with your hair.

“Hey pretty girl.” He said softly as you opened your eyes.

“Hi”

“You did so well for me.” He kisses your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. Don’t move.”

He quickly wet a washcloth and grabbed a water bottle.

You could drift off to sleep at any moment, but Chris made sure to clean you up first.

It felt nice to be taken care of for once. He made sure you were warm enough. every few minutes he laid kisses on your face. You were too tired to say anything but he could see how happy you were. That was enough for him

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut

[lixxpix]

we can't be friends - l.mh

genre: idol!minho x reader, lovers to exes to lovers

tw: angst, hurt, breaking up, erasing of memories (almost) , mutual pining, did i mention angst, reader is kinda depressed, like two kisses ig

status: delivered !

word count: 4.0k

author's note: aaaa omd it's finally done >< reblogs + likes are appreciated!!

lee minho. your muse, your life, your heart.

he broke your heart one stormy sunday night and you hated him as you watched him leave with tears in both of your eyes.

granted, he did break your heart for your own good, to save you from the dangers of being with him. but you didn't care, not when he was your universe, your world. you would gladly take a bullet for him.

just as he would take a bullet for you.

minho knew leaving would break you, just as much as it would break him, but he needed to do it. life as an idol was already dangerous enough with all the death threats and saesangs, but the moment 'fans' caught even the slightest whiff of you they would hunt you down and hurt you, and minho simply couldn't let that happen. he knew you wouldn't care about all the danger as long as you were with him, but he did. minho would never forgive himself if something happened to you all because he had given in to his innermost wants and kept you by his side.

so he left.

november 8th, 2019, 8.46 pm.

"i want to break up." he said, one sunday night. the rain was pouring outside, flashes of thunder and lightning ringing through the sky occasionally. in the quiet and comfort of your shared apartment, with the dim glow of lamps illuminating your features, in that moment, for a split second, minho wanted to stay. he wanted to pretend everything was alright, to have you stay by his side and be happy together, but he knew he shouldn't. the two of you were eating dinner, sitting at the small round dining table in your kitchen tucking into your homemade kimchi stew. god, he would miss your kimchi stew, he thought miserably. 

"what?" your world felt like it had stopped, your hand frozen in place as you slowly tilted your head to look at your boyfriend sitting across from you.

"i... want to break up." he repeated robotically.

"minho, where is this coming from? did i do something wrong? please... just talk to me," you begged, panic starting to flood your mind as tears threatened to spill over. you couldn't believe what he had just said. the both of you had been perfectly fine before, the both of you were happy, why was he doing this? were you not good enough for him? did he fall in love with someone else? the thought alone made you weak.

"i just... it's for the best. i'm putting you in danger every day, fans will hurt you if they find out i'm with you. i can't let that happen."

"i don't care if they try to hurt me, minho. as long as i'm with you, it’s- " you reached for his hand, and could feel your heart finally sinking to the bottom as you saw his face, screwed into an expression of hurt and resignation as he shook his head.

"just... don't forget me in the future, okay?" before you could say anything, minho was already out of his seat, grabbing his coat and his phone, already reaching for the front door.

"wait! minho-" you jumped out of your seat in alarm and desperation, clinging to his arm as he looked back at you with a pained expression. 

"please- we can work this out, just don't leave me," you pleaded, tears already cascading down your face. you must've looked a pathetic mess in that moment, sniffling and sobbing, yet minho still thought you were the most beautiful person to ever exist as he memorised your face for one last time.

finally, minho turned around, cupping your face in his hands. your hands reached up to hold his, as he memorised your every detail for the last time. minho's lips found their way to your forehead, then the corner of your eyes, then your lips as he kissed you tenderly for the last time as you sobbed in his arms.  

"i'm sorry." he whispered, before pushing you back as you cried out and stumbled backwards, opening the door, walking out of the apartment and out of your life.

december 25th, 2019, 11.28 pm. 

your diary.

i still think of you, you know. i still see your face in the windows of that cafe shop we used to go to whenever i pass by. i know you're not in there, and i'm hallucinating. i can't go in there anymore, not without thinking of you. i can't even watch the television anymore without having to see your face. listened to your new comeback. that song was about me, wasn't it? 

it's christmas now. i adopted some presents for you. you would love them, the three cats. i named them soongie, doongie, and dori. quite fitting, they're playful like you. they'll never meet their father. i still wore your hoodie, the green one i always wore every christmas. you used to wear my red hoodie, but i guess you won't be here to wear it anymore. it still smells like you. 

i still wonder why you left. was such a pathetic excuse as me potentially being hurt the only reason why you would leave me? you knew i didn't care if i was hurt, so long as i was with you. you still left. i hate you for that, but deep down i could never hate you. i still love you.

january 7th, 2020, 2.35 pm.

you strolled down the busy streets of seoul, a long oversized fluffy coat resting on your shoulders and your nose pink from the cold. a sigh of relief escaped your lips when you finally stepped foot into the cozy ambience of a random cafe alongside the road, the warm air blowing gently at you helping to relieve the coldness settling into your bones. ordering a latte and a small cake which were promptly delivered to your table, you settled down to scroll through the news.

new technology developed, scientists say new machinery can effectively target and erase memories of specific people and objects. is now being offered at multiple mental health clinics nationwide at a low cost, guaranteed 90% success rate. for sign-ups and further information, please contact...

you raised your eyebrows at the news, marvelling slightly at how advanced technology seemed to be developing at this rate. thinking nothing of it, you simply continued scrolling.

january 7th, 2020, 12.02 pm.

you sighed as you flopped onto your bed, tired from a day of work and countless emails sent. feeling a warm, soft head poke it's way under your arm, you smiled softly, hand reaching out to scratch doongie's head as he meowed in content. smiling softly, you felt two large lumps jump onto your bed and settle on you, soongie choosing to settle on your feet and dori choosing to burrow his way under you arm as you giggled. 

"soongie, you're so heavy," you laughing light-heartedly as your oldest cat let out a 'meow' of indignation at your words. 

minho would love the cats so much...

your smile drooped, feeling that warm familiar sensation pricking at your eyes again. 

god, how stupid. it had been two months already and you were still hung up on him. everywhere you went, you saw his face, on advertisments at the bus stop, billboards in the shopping districts, to even advertisments on youtube, and every single time your old memories with minho would surface and you would miss him again.

memories...

oh. the news of the memory erasure experiment.

would it hurt to try? you tried imagining forgetting minho. for him to just be another face on the billboard, a random k-pop idol to you. to forget you had ever even loved him and forget that he ever loved you. the pain would be gone. your heart would no longer ache each day, you would no longer think of him and he would no longer cloud your mind.

picking up your phone, your finger hovered above the 'call' button.

"hello? this is the seoul medical psychiatry clinic speaking. how may i help you?"

"i..." you paused, gnawing at your bottom lip.

"i would like to make an appointment."

january 19th, 2020, 1.28 pm.

"welcome! do you have a booked appointment?" the receptionist greeted cheerfully as you stepped into the reception and seating area of the clinic, a large box full of items in your hands. the hallways were filled with posters and quotes, the beanbags and seats painted in warm and soothing colours. 

"yes, doctor kim at 1.35pm." you answered, watching as the receptionist typed a few words into her computer.

"ah yes, under the name yoon y/n, right?" she clicked her tongue, "for... memory erasure?" she glanced at you with a look full of sympathy, as if you were some lost wounded puppy. 

"yes." you confirmed, lips pursing together slightly as you stared down at the box.

"good, and you've got your box of items already. do double check to make sure they are linked to that specific person only, we wouldn't want any erasure of other memories woth different people."

you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"yeah, i have." 

"great, we'll be calling for you later, the doctor will run you through the procedure and then the operation will commence. take a seat first," she gestured to the seating area. not long after, you heard your name.

"yoon y/n?" 

you hurriedly stood up, making your way towards the nurse and following her into the operation room. the operation room was white and cold, lacking any warmth and colour, filled with odd looking machinery and lab coats and tools. you were sat down on a chair, and your box of items given to the nurse who began taking them out one by one while another nurse attached a few wires to your skin to a machine on the right which measured your heart rate, a steady thump-thump-thump. the first nurse began to place your items in a row, scanning each one under a machine.

beep.

minho's green hoodie.

beep.

the snow globe the both of you had bought together at a winter festival.

beep.

polariods of you and him.

beep.

a cat plushie you had gifted him in celebration of his lastest comeback before he had left.

beep.

matching mugs the two of you had bought.

minho. everything, everywhere, everyone reminded you of minho. it felt like you were drowning, consumed by him.

"alright, i'll be placing the device on your head. the device will take you through individual memories of the person, but you will have to re-experience certain bigger core memories again as those take a longer time to process. if at any point should you feel distressed or want to stop, please press the red button beside you, and should you want to restore your memories we will reload them back into your brain. however, if you choose not to restore the memories, we will automatically delete them after 30 days." the doctor explained, showing you a strange contraption with two pulse points connecting to either side of your temple.

beside you, the heart rate measured by the machine started beeping faster.

you nodded. 

the cold, tingly terminals of the device connected with either side of your temples, the unfamiliar feeling odd and alienating. 

then all turned black.

"min! look, they have matching mugs! we should get them," you pointed excitedly to two mugs at a stall in a summer fair you and minho had just happened to pass by. you watched as your old self pointed to the mugs happily, "the world's best boyfriend" and "the world's best girlfriend" written on each mug respectively. "that's so cheesy," minho said, a grin on his face as he pulled you close to him by your waist. well, the old minho in your memories. it felt like a punch in the gut yet the cure to your pain as you stared at his face again in your re-lived memory, his oh-so-familar grin plastered on his stupidly handsome face. "yeah, but it's cute!" you exclaimed, turning to face minho. "pleaseeee," you begged, lips downturned in a pout and your eyes shining hopefully as you tugged on his arm. "fine," minho groans, eventually giving in into your request, feigning annoyace by rolling his eyes yet still smiling at your delighted expression. 

god, you missed him so much.

the memory shifted, warping into another blurry picture.

this time, it was another memory that faded in, a memory of you and him sitting in the living room unwrapping your christmas presents. minho tore open his box eagerly, laughing as he held up a green hoodie from his favorite brand gifted to him by you, coupled with some other things like perfume and a brand new wallet. "oops... might've gifted you an accidental matching hoodie by accident," he smiled sheepishly, as you opened your present, some jewelry with . "a red hoodie! now we can match," you snickered, pulling the soft hoodie over your head and slipping it on. "hey, we look like the christmas colours!" you laughed, pouncing on him and tackling him down to make him wear his one as he whined in protest. eventually you did managed to get him to put it on and pose for some pictures, albeit him being disgruntled but still giving in to you anyways.

a tear trickled down your face, landing on your lap as your hands on the chair tightened, gripping the armrests so hard your knuckles started turning white.

the memory started to fade away.

"min! the new comeback was so good, i watched the music video just now," you exclaimed, bounding up to him the moment he opened the front door to your shared apartment. "thanks baby," he smiled, leaning in for a quick peck but suddenly finding a soft plushie being thrust into his hands. it was a plush of a brown and white striped cat, soft to the touch and extremely squishable. "what's this for?" he raised eyebrow, cocking his head in confusion as he stared at you. "it's to celebrate your comeback, I figured i'd give you something to cuddle when i'm not around you," you smiled, "i named the cat mr sprinkles." "who names a plush toy mr sprinkles?" minho laughs, watching as you huff at him about how the name was cute and he was being mean. "thank you though, i appreciate it," he kissed you softly, smiling at the small act of love.

no, stop-

you started to whimper and thrash around.

fade to black again.

"min, look," minho turned to you as you were admiring the ornaments at a booth, the both of you coming across a christmas market and deciding to explore it. "it's a snow globe of us," you pointed out to a small snow globe, with a man and women as figurines in the center of the snow globe and fake snow swirling in the water around them. "it does look like us, doesn't it?" he hummed, pressing a soft kiss into your hair as you subconsciously leaned into him. "we should get it," he suggested, smiling at how your eyes lit up and how you pressed a kiss to his cheek. the two of you purchased the item, and then bought some hot chocolate to sip on to relieve the cold setting into your bones. "jagi-ah," minho called, prompting you to look up at him before gasping in surprise. the first snow of the season. "you know, they say the person you witness the first snow with will be with you for a long, long time." minho grinned, leaning down to kiss you tenderly before intertwining your hands. 

you didn't want to forget him, you realized, as you gasped for air, heartbeat skyrocketing as you tried to open your mouth to scream. no, you would never want to forget minho. you would rather cling onto those memories and deal with the pain forever than never having remembered him.

the memory faded.

you gasped in surprise as you ripped open the box, holding up a brand-new, shiny polariod camera wrapped in a gift box, its paper shreds used to cushion the camera hapazardly strewn about the floor.  minho watched you with a small smile on his face, eyes sparkling as he happily obliged to any pose you wanted to do with him, groaning half-heartedly but still laughing at the silly faces you made.

the memory started to fade again.

"STOP!" your finger found the red button, desperately pressing it in an attempt to get the machine to start working. all of a sudden, you were jolted back into your consciousness in the middle of the white sterile room again, heaving and gasping for air as you tried to adjust back to the surroundings. 

"are you okay? do you need to stop the operation?" the nurse asked, a concerned look on her face. beside you, the machine was beeping, a erratic rhythm.

beep. beep. beep. beep.

your hand reached up to fiddle with your necklace, looking left and right. you swallowed, a lump in your throat.

"yes."

----------

you stumbled out the clinic, hands clutching onto the box of items tightly as your eyes adjusted to the bright light of the sun. 

hands shaking, you pulled out your phone.

'my love,' the contact at the top of the screen read. you hadn't called him in months, ever since he had broken up with you. you has tried for a few weeks, but day after day of missed calls was heartbreaking.

you pressed the button.

one ring.

two rings.

three rings.

four rings...

"hello?"

a voice you hadn't heard for months. a voice you had only been hearing in your dreams.

"minho-" a strangled sob left your lips.

"please." you could only force out a choked plea, tears falling rapidly, stumbling onto a nearby bench. people started at you as they walked by, a woman breaking down in a random street in seoul oddly disconcerting.

"where are you? i'll come get you." the moment you heard the concern laced in his voice, your eyes brimmed with more unshed tears, stifling a sob that threatened to escape. in the background, you could hear the sound of things being knocked over, presumably minho rushing to get to you.

you told him your location in between shaky breaths, occasional hiccups interrupting your sentence. 

"just wait for me, ok? don't move anywhere," minho firmly instructed, voice soft and calming.

a few minutes passed, and he was nowhere to be found.

he would hate you for this, you realized. you didn't deserve him. he tried so hard to keep you safe, and how did you repay him? by almost erasing all memories of him. the thought of it just broke your heart even more, for if he knew what you had tried to do he would never want to have anything to do with you again.

"y/n!" you heard a voice yell, whipping around only to see minho running to you at full speed.  you had never been more glad to see him, your knees instantly buckling as you collapsed into his arms, crying into the crook of his neck as you clutched onto him like a lifeline. 

you didn't think you would ever get used to this feeling, you thought. his touch, warmth, his gentle strokes of your hair and whispered sweet nothings were like music to your ears, his hand coming up to rest on your back and his other coming up to gently stroke your hair as he swayed you back and forth. he had clearly just ran from dance practice, you realized, slightly sweaty and panting ever so slightly. 

"what's wrong, jagi?" he murmured, soft brown eyes searching your own red and teary ones.

"i- i didn't want to remember you because it was too painful, and then i tried to erase my memories of you, but i realized i didn't want to and i really, really, really fucking miss you and it hurts-" your rambling was cut off by a hiccup, lips quivering as you stared back into his eyes.

here comes the part where he realizes your a disgusting bitch and hates you forever, you thought miserably.

"shh, it's ok," minho pulled you closer, engulfing you in his warmth as his hand rose up to cup your cheek.

what?

he was supposed to hate you, not do... this. you literally tried to erase all memories of him, he should be angry and offended, so why...?

nonetheless, you would take what you could get in what you assumed to be your last moments with him, so instead you leaned into his touch, memorising his every detail again. his soft brown eyes framed with delicate lashes, sharp nose and jawline, the pink rosy tint to his cheeks as the winter wind whipped around you.

"i'm sorry," you begged, "just don't hate me."

"i never did, silly." minho laughed softly, a wistful smile gracing his lips.

"but you left me." you said, confused.

"i left you because i loved you. it was just for your own safety, i didn't care about anything else," minho explained, brows furrowing slightly.

oh.

minho stumbled backwards as you crashed into him with a force, nearly knocking him over as you crashed your lips onto his, hands threading through his soft silky hair and teeth knocking against his. it was a heated, messy kiss, teeth clashing and tears streaming down your face, yet minho didn't seem to mind as he deepened the kiss with a fervour, all seeming to pour out of him, pain and regret, relief and want. it is only when you seperate with a gasping breath of air that you finally see his swollen, reddened lips.

“i’ll figure something out, i’ll talk to the company, make a statement or something- i won’t let anyone get to you, i promise,” he rambled, a giddy smile on his face. right now, minho could care less about the repercussions, even if he had to move mountains just to be by your side and keep you safe at the same time. 

you giggled, an infectious laugh bubbling out of you. the both of you, crying in the middle of a street, hands intertwined and both a mess, yet you had never been happier with the person you truly loved. 

“we'll be alright now.” you whispered. it wasn’t just a statement but a promise, one to keep forever.

december 25th, 2020, 1.43 pm.

“min! come look!” you squealed in delight, eyes lighting up when you were finally done. minho glanced over, and sure enough, you were up to mischief again, the three cats dressed in ugly christmas sweaters with cartoonish designs on them and matching hats on their heads. doongie let out a ‘meow’ of indignation, protesting as minho roared with laughter to scoop him and his fellow cats up. laughter bubbling out of your lips, you quickly grabbed your phone to take a picture of minho and the three cats, his face lighting up in amusement as he watched them try to squirm out of his grasp. 

“i love you, you know that?” minho says that night, the two of you cuddled up on the couch with the cats, watching your favourite seasonal christmas movies together and snacking on popcorn.

“i don’t say it enough, partly because i’m not good at expressing myself, but i love you. your smile and personality and everything. just thought you should know.” the tips of his ears are red as he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

you smile, a red tint blossoming across your cheeks as you lean in to kiss him softly.

“i love you too min.” 

how did you ever get so lucky? you think, leaning in to rest your head on minho’s shoulder as you resumed watching the movie, one hand absentmindedly scratching dori’s head as he purrs in contentment. here, in the dim light of the cozy apartment with minho, love heavy in the air around you two and christmas lights twinkling merrily, you think you have everything you have ever wanted in life.

after all, it didn't really matter where you were, as long as minho was by your side.

taglist: @starseungs @missmajdastark @jazziwritesthings @layviyu @lailac13 @ana-marais98 @foxinthewild @dandelions-143 @rylea08 @linocz @minseongsworld @realrintaro @kkamismon12 @felinows @baribaaari

#angst #stray kids #fluff #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #skz minho #lee minho #skz #skz imagines #skz angst #sk #skz au #skz scenarios #str #stray kids imagines #stra #stray kids fanfic #st #minho #skz x #skz x you #stray kids x

[deonsx]

If They Need You

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Ranpo, Fyodor, Nikolai, Jouno

Content: obscene speech

Dazai Osamu

Dazai He often annoys you at work so after a while you get used to it, he has no shame he constantly exposes you to lewd words in front of his coworkers

He frowns when you're angry with him and whispers manipulated words in your ear with puppy dog ​​eyes that you can never reject

But this workday was different from the others, dazai was constantly making strange noises and wouldn't turn his gaze from you. you realized that and you ignored him finally it was lunch break and everyone went out but you didn't finish the files so you need to stay, with dazai

You thought you would continue to ignore him like it was during the day and you got up and went to get water a hand tightly around your waist pulled you to him "dazai! what the hell are you doing, we are at work" he ignored it and left kisses on your neck

"I need you" you felt a hardness as he hugged you tighter from behind "You realize we're at work and when we get home-" he didn't wait for you to finish andhe quickly picked you up and tossed the papers on the table and put you there

Why did you suddenly think he was acting like a stray animal but he didn't give you time to think, you stopped him "osamu we're at work and break is almost over" he took a long breath "then we'll do it otherwise" you raised an eyebrow as he said that "how so?" you asked. he went and sat in his chair, his eyes still on you

"Get Under The Table And Be A Good Girl For The Day Bella"

Chuuya Nakahara

The only day your boyfriend was available and with you was Sunday, and this time you wanted to spend the night at restaurant

Normally you wouldn't prefer places like this, but you wanted to have fun with him so you went to his favorite place for wine, the food and drinks came as usual, but the waiter asked if we wanted the drinks special this time, chuuya turned his eyes to the drink "Special?" the waiter nodded, "A hot special wine for you?

"Have you tried before?" The waiter asked the question with a warm smile, you answered "no? does it taste good?" the waiter nodded happily, chuuya must have liked this service, he said happily on his face "give us your hot special wine" That's how it all started the drinks were put on the table you both drank

and as soon as 5 minutes passed, you felt a warmth and hesitated but your boyfriend asked for 2 more glasses in a row and then the same thing must have happened to him as his eyes and face turned red "hot.." he whispered "I think now I understand why it's mulled wine" you muttered chuckling and you gave him advice "you shouldn't have drunk so much, honey" he lifted his head from the table and his eyes focused on you like a hungry animal "Go in the back room and wait for me" he told you in a serious tone

he didn't speak any more he obviously gave you orders you hesitated to get up but you got up and walked into the private room in the restaurant and sat on the bed made with red patterns before long chuuya arrived. You heard him lock the door behind him

“Undress My Love"

Ranpo Edogawa

You and your boyfriend were returning from a tired business trip, and he was talking to himself while eating his desserts and complaining that he couldn't touch you even once during his work vacation

He couldn't touch you because whenever he tried it, it was like there was a constant glitch Calls, Doorbells, Tasks, you couldn't do anything because of them, even at midnight you were tired and you were sleeping, the vacation was only 3 days and now you are driving the car and he is too He was expressing his anger

Of course, he was saying all this with a joke. After a short silence, ranpo pointed to a visible gas station with his hand "We have gas, my love" Ranpo smiled when he said this, "I have to buy something from the market" he prepared while saying "I'm waiting in the car"

The roads were so dark, the gas station lights were dim and gray so you couldn't see much around you parked the car and your boyfriend got out of the car fast

While you were waiting for him, you looked outside, you thought it must be a coincidence that there is a completely deserted grass and a gas station in nature

You unlocked your door with a knock and let your boyfriend open the door, you got up from your seat to look at what he was holding. "Condom??" "Just like that my love it's been a long time" he hissed as his eyes narrowed slightly

“How About You Take The Back Seat And Give Me A Nice Feast?”

Fyodor Dostoyevski

The man who is both your boss and your boyfriend at the same time, you do whatever he says, of course, this is valid during business hours

He gave you a mission but there was a glitch in the mission and now someone who works for fyodor just like you was scolding you, your relationship was secret so no one would have guessed it

The man was scolding you "It's really not wise to give such a job to such a woman" he talked again "You're stupid, you're useless, why are you in this job? Fyodor, why did our boss hire a prostitute like you? Or do you have something else?" he grinned and his hand reached out to you everything happened in the blink of an eye blood was everywhere

You saw your boyfriend coming from the shadows as the man's body crashed to the ground "I'm guilty of hiring someone like this next time you see someone like that know you're allowed to kill"

He slowly put his hand on your waist and took his steps towards the exit to get you away from there. "Fedya, the glitch on duty-" “shhh It doesn't matter, I have another request from you, my dear”

You left your office and walked in the dark street "It was a tiring day my love" his white skinned eyes illuminate the night telling you "You're kind of happy with that tone of voice" The man smiled "Of course I am" his grin widened he pulled you into the alley and quickly picked you up

“Open Your Legs For Me Only, My Dear”

Nikolai Gogol

You were also involved in your Boyfriend's Important Mission and your scene has already ended and you've been waiting for him

You were waiting at the hotel he hired for you. While waiting for him, you looked at some of your clothes in the closet. A really nice dress with red above the knee, thin sleeves and a really nice dress. You were getting ready for your job interview tonight. You opened your hair and waved it with tongs

You were waiting for Nikolai, after he finished his job and informed you, you were going to go to your job interview, the hotel door opened with a card and your boyfriend came in dressed in white "wow, whose beauty does this belong"

A splendid smile formed on your face, he approached from behind and ran his hands over his body "really nice dress for one wear" you looked at him in surprise "one wear?"

"I'm going to tear it up at the end of the night after all" She said with a pleasant chuckle "Sorry darling, but tonight I going to the job interview which is unlikely to happen"

Fingers entwined with your dress, fiddling with the zipper of the dress "hmm? you're a naughty boy" you said while holding his chin. He pulled you into a beautiful deep kiss

“I'm Gonna Fuck You Until You Can't Walk To That Job İnterview”

Jouno Saigiku

You were both on a mission given by Fukuchi and you went to a bar place and you were the main player here

Your boyfriend was only responsible for killing the man, you were going to lure him and take him to the hotel room, that's all, but it was harder than it looked because the man was trying to kiss you

He was trying to touch you which is perfectly normal if you don't let him the plan would fail the guy grabbed your waist, you could feel Jouno's eyes on you but you tried not to look

"Why is she such a beautiful woman in such a place" the man approached you with his drunk mouth you were disgusted and frankly tense, you tried to look at your boyfriend's side but you couldn't see him, this gave you an incentive to get scared

"Hey! Learn to look at my face when I'm talking to you, do you know who I am?" he spat filthy on the ground and you ask "What are you trying to say?" "Just tell me the price per night dear"

"How dare you" You talked but suddenly the lights went out and gunfire came back when the lights came back there was a pool of blood everywhere You looked at your boyfriend standing in front of you smiling at you "I'm sure there was a glitch in the plan the boss wouldn't mind"

He pulled you by the arm and led you to the room at the back entrance of the bar "does it turn you on when someone else touches you?" he asked you in an angry tone, you couldn't get over his surprise yet "what!? how do you think about that?"

"You look so happy to me" said as he pinned you against the wall "Never was that possible" his brows dropped and he grabbed your legs and tied you around your waist

"Show Your Worth To Me"

Request Are Open!

#bsd #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs #dazai #dazai osamu #dazai smut #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #dazaibsd #bsd chuuya #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #bungo stray dogs nikolai #nikolai gogol #nikolai x reader #bsd jouno #jouno smut #jouno x reader #bungou stray dogs chuuya #fyodor smut #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fypシ #osamudazai #pm dazai

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅷ▬ ⁽ 𝒶𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓃 ⁾

��𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₈˖₅ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : unedited, plot, alien/human, fluff, nim'xen is a simp, he falls first and then falls harder. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : no smut, but! a cute little unfinished one-shot of mine.

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: on the way home from the store, the unthinkable happens.

꒰male!alien ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

“Breaking News: Massive Asteroid Comes Dangerously Close to Earth, Scientists Unaware Until Hours Later.

In a stunning turn of events, a colossal asteroid, previously known as ZTFoDxQ but now identified as Asteroid QG, narrowly missed colliding with Earth. The planet-sized asteroid made its closest-known approach to our planet on Sunday at 12:08 a.m. EDT, coming within a mere 1,830 miles. This remarkable event marks the closest asteroid flyby ever recorded, where the celestial object managed to survive the encounter unscathed, as confirmed by NASA.

However, the surprises didn't end there. Just this afternoon at 1:00 p.m., reports have emerged that a fragment of the asteroid has broken off and penetrated Earth's atmosphere. The exact location of impact is currently being evacuated as a precautionary measure. 

 Scientists are scrambling to analyze the data and understand how such a massive asteroid managed to come so close to Earth without being detected until hours later. The lack of awareness has raised concerns about the effectiveness of current asteroid detection systems and the potential risks posed by near-Earth objects.

NASA and other space agencies around the world are now working to improve their monitoring and detection capabilities to prevent similar surprises in the future. The incident has also sparked discussions about the need for increased funding and resources for asteroid detection and deflection efforts.

As the world watches in awe and relief at the near miss, the incident serves as a stark reminder of the potential dangers lurking in space and the importance of continued vigilance in monitoring the skies for potential threats. Stay tuned for further updates on this developing story.” 

3 months later

“Can you do me a favor, sweetheart?”

Interrupting your peeling, you raised your eyes from the bowl of potatoes, freezing the peeler in your hand. You cast a frustrated glance at her, your annoyance thinly veiled behind a strained smile. You were already handling most of the cooking for the evening, so what more could she want from you?

Interpreting your insincere smile as a signal of agreement, she resumed her task of tending to the bubbling broth on the stove, deftly chopping the carrots and watching them plunge into the savory liquid with a satisfying plop. "Your sister's going on a trip tomorrow and I totally spaced on getting her food. She likes turkey right? I'll just throw together a sandwich for her." 

A soft snicker escaped you as the peeler slipped from your hand and plunged into the water-filled bowl. You shifted your attention towards her, trying to decipher if she was genuinely serious or not. Yet, as you locked eyes with her, she responded with an arched eyebrow and an inquisitive grin.

"Jess has a poultry allergy, Mom." 

The woman paused briefly, inhaling deeply to gather her thoughts. As she glanced up at you, she shifted her hip to the side. Her apologetic expression seemed somewhat contrived. "Of course, I should have remembered. I'm sorry, honey." 

It was understandable that the woman might eventually forget. She wasn't the one who hurriedly took Jess to the hospital when she had her first experience with it, she wasn't the one who remained by the girl's side day and night, eagerly waiting for her to regain consciousness. But you were. You were Jess's first in everything. You had always been there for her, so it's only natural that the bond between the two of you grew strong. You knew all about her allergies, her preferences, her school crushes— you felt like more of a mother to her than her biological one.

 "Whatever. I'll pack her lunch." 

You swivel the chair and slide off of it. "The blue card, right?" As she nods her head absentmindedly, almost as if she's in a daze, you leave the kitchen with a frown etched on your face.

Snatching your keys from the hook, you hastily slide into your gym shoes, relieved that you hadn't bothered changing your clothes. You stand at the bottom of the stairs and shift your weight. "Jess! I'm going to the store, do you want anything?!" You delve into your mom's purse, sifting through the chaotic contents until you locate her wallet and retrieve the blue card food stamp card.

   After a brief silence, her bedroom door swings open and she rushes towards the railing, a bright smile on her face. " Ice cream? Shark week came and I've been really craving strawberry ice cream."  You give a nod and quickly retrieve your jacket from the closet. "Do you need any money for the trip tomorrow? I can take some out on my way back." 

The young girl shakes her head, her eyes filled with adoration. You raise an eyebrow but still nod in understanding. Retrieving your phone from your pocket, you give it a gentle shake. "Text me if you need anything, but be quick about it." Without waiting for her response, you swiftly unlock the door and make your way onto the porch.

The sky is adorned with a delicate blend of pink and deep purple, gradually blending into the mysterious darkness of the night. A gentle breeze carries a subtle chill, but you embrace it without a word, wrapping your jacket tightly around your being. Swiftly, you navigate towards your vehicle, unlocking the door and sinking into the plush leather seat. A faint hint of smoke dances in the air, causing your nose to crinkle in response. Without hesitation, you lower the window, letting it air out.

As the smell dissipates you roll up the window and rub your hands together from the cold.

 With a flick of a switch, the heat begins to flow, gradually filling the space and caressing your cheeks with a gentle warmth. The jacket you wear, once a shield against the chill, now threatens to make you feel almost too warm. With a contented smile, you leave the driveway behind and glide swiftly down the street, embraced by the cozy ambiance within.

 As you embark on the drive, the radio remains silent, allowing your thoughts to drift away. Your thumb dances lightly on the steering wheel, lost in a world of its own. Deep down, you had already made up your mind to have Jess by your side once you left. There was no way your parents could take care of her, especially with what you've heard today. 

 Your job was well-paying and you had saved up to rent and secure a two-bedroom apartment at an astonishingly reasonable cost, despite its pristine condition. Nestled within a delightful community, the apartment stood conveniently close to Jess' school. Naturally, obtaining their consent would be imperative, yet even if they were to resist, you would unhesitatingly embark on a legal journey to assert your rights. Yet even if they were to resist, you would unhesitatingly them to court. 

  You wanted a better life for Jess, you wanted the rest of her remaining years of growth to unfold effortlessly. Your affection for her was so profound that witnessing her spiral, just as you had, while residing with your parents was simply inconceivable.

Startled by a gentle tap on your window, you were momentarily transported from the reverie you had been lost in while sitting in the Kroger's parking lot. Your mind had been wandering, lost in a sea of thoughts. With your heart pounding in your chest, you slowly shifted your gaze towards the source of the sound and cautiously opened the window, allowing a sliver of the outside world to seep in.

 She was an elderly lady, much older than you, with a look of homelessness about her. Her shirt was stained and torn, her jeans in tatters, and her face covered in grime. You hesitated for a moment before offering her a warm smile and rolling down your window just a tad further.

  "Hi, do you need something?"

As her murmurs dance in disarray, fragments of words manage to intertwine, and in a fleeting moment, a shiver cascades down your spine. " You're. . . Die. . . Tonight."  

Her expression is vacant, her gaze distant, and the fidgety way she picks at her cuticles hints at her unease. Even though you feel a sense of discomfort, a strong urge to leave the parking lot doesn't overcome you. Instead, you reach into the glove compartment, retrieve a crumpled $20 bill, and gently pass it through the window.

 You recoil in shock as she snatches it out of your hand, making sure to quickly wobble off. With your heart racing, you roll up the window and sink into the headrest, trying to soothe your jangled nerves. What the hell was that about? The only conclusion you can draw is that she must be a deranged old woman.

After finally catching your breath, you unlock your car door and slide out, card in hand. Gently inserting the blue plastic into the slot at the back of your phone case, you carefully place it in your pocket. The night had fallen, and you were eager to return to the comfort of your home.

You took a cart from the parking lot racks and pushed it inside, feeling the chill of the air as you entered the store. "Hmm, what should I pick up for Jess?"

—

   "Jess! Mom! I'm home!" You set the bags onto the dining room table and wait there with a cocked hip. Within moments, Jess emerges from her room and descends the stairs in a flurry. A gentle smile adorns your face as you present the tub of delectable ice cream, relishing in the delightful sound of her joyful squeal.

  "Ah! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" With a grateful smile, she plants a sweet kiss on your cheek and pulls you into a warm embrace. She then heads to the kitchen, excitedly searching through the drawer for a spoon. Your mother, already present in the kitchen, peeks out from behind the corner.

You notice her face contorting into a slight frown paired with a gentle smile. You recognize that look instantly, so you grab the car keys and smoothly slide the card off the table. Her eyes soften with regret as she passes you a tiny list. "It's just a few things, the ingredients for Jakiya's birthday cake that slipped my mind. Do you mind picking them up?"

   You raised an eyebrow, lips pursed. "I don't necessarily have a choice, mom." Your mom huffed and rolled her eyes. "It's a simple yes or no question, don't be difficult." Despite your strained relationship with your mom, you made an effort to avoid arguments when Jess was present.

Speaking of which, Jess had stopped rummaging in the drawer, body strung tight like a bow. Your gaze softened as you released a weary, deep sigh. You were completely fed up with your parents' nonsense, but Jess shouldn't have to witness the constant fighting between the three of you.

With a gentle nibble on the tender flesh of your cheek, you gracefully acknowledged your mother's request, enveloping yourself in the comforting embrace of your jacket. "Sure mom, what do you need?"

A smile of gratitude adorned her face as she pushed a small list towards you. You grinned wryly as you snatched it, then swiftly headed towards the door. The sun had long set, plunging the world into darkness. The street lights flickered weakly, barely illuminating the empty streets.

 Jess gazes at you as you prepare to depart, smiling guiltily.  With a playful roll of your eyes, you silently express your affection, mouthing the words 'I love you' and blowing a tender kiss in her direction. Her nose scrunches up adorably, but her face lights up with a radiant smile as she reciprocates the gesture. As you steal a glance to the side, you catch sight of your mother observing the exchange, her eyes filled with a bittersweet longing.

 "Text me if there's something else, I'm not going back out later." The words were directed towards Jess, but she dismissed them with a wave of her hand and reached for a large spoon from the drawer. Stepping outside, you were greeted by the refreshing embrace of the cool, crisp air, causing you to release a frustrated sigh. The sound of your keys jingled as you retrieved them from your pocket, pressing a button to unlock the car doors. With a swift motion, you hopped into the front seat and firmly closed the door behind you.

 You wait impatiently as the engine sputters before shutting off. Resting your head on the steering wheel, you attempt a few more times before surrendering. Frustrated, you hit the dashboard and recline in your seat. If you were to go inside and inform your mom that the car wouldn't start, she'd make you walk anyway.

With a sigh escaping your lips, you swing open the door and slide from the seat locking the doors behind you. Embarking on your journey towards Kroger, you find yourself humming a gentle melody, adding a touch of serenity to your brisk pace towards the supermarket. The night envelops you in a tranquil embrace, yet the houses you pass by are alive with vibrant activity. As you stroll along, your gaze wanders towards the windows, offering glimpses into the lives unfolding within.

    Some families are cooking while others are at the table already eating. Happiness danced in the air, casting its enchanting spell upon every corner. Yet, as you observed this idyllic scene, a twinge of envy tugged at your heartstrings. Growing up, you yearned for such a blissful atmosphere that seemed to elude you. At the tender age of nine, your parents bestowed upon you the title of maturity, deeming you wise beyond your years. And while, yes, you possessed a certain level of wisdom, it did not equate to being capable enough to care for your baby sister.

 It fell upon you to fetch Jess from daycare and ensure a safe journey back home for the two of you. It was your responsibility to prepare meals for both of you after school. The weight of raising your four-year-old sister and yourself rested solely on your shoulders, as there was no one else to do it for you. Over time, the bond between both of you and your parents had weakened. They were seldom present, and when they were, disagreements ensued. You made an effort to keep the arguments hushed whenever Jess was around. She often blamed herself for the strained relationship between you, your mom, and your dad.

As you stroll along the dimly lit street, a sudden hush falls upon your heart as the echo of footsteps reaches your ears. Time seems to stand still, and for a fleeting moment, your heart skips a beat. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, you cling to a glimmer of hope, imagining that those footsteps might belong to a passerby, innocently treading the same path as you.

They draw nearer, their footsteps quickening. You swallow your trepidation, nearly stumbling as a man's voice pierces the air. "Excuse me!" His voice resonates with a deep, thunderous timbre, sending shivers down your spine. You flinch, but press on, hastening towards the bustling street where the glow of passing cars illuminates the pavement and towering structures. Towards the sanctuary of safety.

 "Hey! I'm talking to you." 

  You're almost there. You start to jog a little but they've closed in a bit too much. Their presence looms closer, their energy palpable. Just as panic threatens to consume you, you part your lips to release a piercing scream, only to find that silence has enveloped the air.

A gentle breeze rustles the leaves of a bush, followed by a brief, hushed cry that fades into silence. The chirping of crickets has ceased, leaving a stillness that envelops the world. With uncertainty, you glance behind you and collapse to the ground as the two men have vanished. Gazing up at the night sky, the reflection in your eyes, you offer silent gratitude to whoever intervened and saved you in that fleeting moment.

   You stand up and you resume your journey, eventually arriving at the bustling street. Though your legs falter when you notice the woman from earlier sitting on a bus stop bench. The impact of the $20 becomes evident as she savors a warm, nourishing meal, and her once weary eyes seem to be less bloodshot. 

 A part of you hesitates to pass by her, yet you dismiss that fleeting sense of unease and march towards her. It appears that she is also cautious of your presence, as her head swiftly turns towards you—almost as if she is just as cognizant of you as you are of her. Her gaze drifts beyond your shoulder and her eyes widen, a sheer terror reflecting in them. She abandons her meal, rises with some effort, clutches onto her bag, and hastens away.

Your brows knit together and you cast a glance over your shoulder, a whirlwind of bewilderment dancing in your gaze. There is no one lingering in the shadows and the surroundings appear undisturbed. Returning your attention to her path, you discover that she has vanished into thin air. A sense of unease settles within you as you resume your journey towards the store, diligently keeping a watchful eye on the space behind you.

—

The parking lot is nearly empty when you leave the store. Alongside you, a stream of tired employees bid farewell to their workday, their footsteps echoing in harmony with your own. Amid this scene, a message from Jess illuminates your phone, informing you that dinner has already been prepared. However, a bittersweet note lingers as their parents, driven by impatience, have chosen to indulge in the meal without your presence.

      The girl had put you some food up and would eat with you when you got home. You tell her that it's fine and for her to go to sleep. She responds back with the middle finger emoji. You let out a soft laugh and gently tuck your phone away, resuming your journey back home. In moments like these, you can't help but appreciate the invaluable presence of your sister. She is the unwavering support that keeps you grounded, the guiding light that helps you navigate through life's challenges. It is because of her that you find the strength to persevere, even in the face of your parents' constant demands.

Raising Jess, despite its challenges, has molded you into the person you are now. A person who is dependable, always on time, patient, and strong-willed. You possess the remarkable ability to adapt swiftly and thrive in any endeavor you undertake. If your parents hadn't entrusted you with the responsibility of raising your sister, none of these remarkable qualities would have blossomed within you. Although it may be bittersweet, raising Jess has truly been a hidden blessing, concealed in the depths of life's mysteries.

As you hurriedly make your way home, you take a shortcut and find yourself in the dimly lit parking lot of a mysterious barber shop. Instantly, a wave of regret washes over you as you stumble upon a group of men engaged in some clandestine activity. Panic sets in, and you quickly decide to retreat. However, fate has other plans for you. In your haste, you accidentally collide with a solid chest, causing you to freeze in your tracks. 

When you gather the courage to look up, you are met with a sight that leaves you breathless. Standing before you is a towering figure, adorned with intricate tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. His pierced septum and eyebrow only add to his intimidating presence, and his annoyed expression sends shivers down your spine. As his eyebrows furrow, you can't help but do a double take at his striking attractiveness.

 "Watch where you're going, woman." You nod in agreement and attempt to move aside, but a member of the group lets out a disrespectful whistle. Your body tenses as you try to keep walking, only to have your wrist grabbed by another individual. "Where do you think you're going? You're such a pretty little thing."  

"I just want to get home. Please, let me go." Your attempt at a stern tone falters as your voice quivers and a hiccup escapes. Laughter fills the air, causing you to shrink back as if confronting a pack of wolves. Six of them. 

   The mysterious figure you collided with earlier firmly grasps the man who is restraining your wrist. " I don't have all fucking night Tyler. Either give me my shit, or I'm going to blow your brains across this goddamn lot." 

The atmosphere suddenly becomes hushed, as if time itself holds its breath. A distant memory resurfaces, a conversation shared with your sister, where you both playfully pondered about how you would handle such a situation. Laughter filled the air as you jokingly mentioned pepper spray and karate moves. But now, in this very moment, fear grips your heart, rendering you utterly petrified.

    Tyler releases his grip on you, causing a small, trembling breath to escape your lips. "Jesus, Dom. I was just joking," he says nervously, glancing at his friends for support. A few chuckle while others remain silent.

 Dom gazes at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Go. Before I change my mind." Despite the stern tone, there is a softness in his eyes that reassures you. You thank him profusely and speed walk away from the group. 

The moment you thought you were making headway, the piercing screams and the thunderous gunshots shatter the night's calmness. Time seems to stand still as the world around you falls into an eerie silence once again. With a lump in your throat, you quicken your pace, feeling the weight of tears welling up in your eyes.

This couldn't possibly be the end for you. It simply couldn't. You still had a duty to care for your sister, to provide her with a better life than you ever had. You longed to shield her from your parents, but how could you do that if you were no longer alive?

   As you sprint away, tightly holding onto the groceries, a gasp escapes your lips before a hand covers your mouth, guiding you into a hidden bush. The struggle feels like the most intense challenge you've ever faced. Through a tiny gap, you catch a glimpse of your groceries left behind on the pavement.

  " Shh, little female." 

As if by magic, a wave of calm washes over you the moment you recognize the familiar presence of 'Dom'. Tears cascade down your cheeks, and you gently rest your hands upon his, feeling the rhythmic beats of your heart resonating in your ears. As you glance through the foliage, a gasp escapes your lips upon seeing 'Tyler' once again. Yet, he appears far from human this time. His complexion is a mesmerizing shade of deep purple, and his face is adorned with four fiery red eyes and a menacing set of frothing, razor-sharp teeth.

His mouth oozes with saliva, which cascades onto the solid ground and creates a sizzling noise. It was acidic. Dom embraces you tightly, his free hand ascending. In his grasp, a peculiar gun emerges, unlike anything you have ever laid eyes upon. With precision, he positions the barrel's tip against the peephole, his finger gently caressing the trigger. As the gun powers up, a radiant orange glow illuminates its entire frame, casting an ethereal aura. The release is nearly soundless, as a beam pierces through 'Tyler's forehead. 

He moves away from you, emerging from the bushes, taking your stunned body in his arms and lifting you up gently. Running his fingers through his hair, the white locks falling smoothly into place.

As your gaze meets his, your mortal eyes widen in awe. He appears changed, yet undeniably captivating in a strange, otherworldly manner. His complexion is a deep shade of grey, adorned with intricate tattoos in an unfamiliar script. Some markings are white, while others emit a haunting red glow. His hair, too, is a ghostly white, almost pulsating with life. His eyes, a cloudy white, give the impression of blindness, yet two more eyes rest just below the main set. The piercings on his nose and eyebrow remain, adding to his enigmatic allure.

 You take a step back, but he gives you a piercing look that freezes you in place "What are you?" Without a word, he hesitates for a moment before taking your hand and leading you away. "Where are we going?" Your voice trembles with fear. Dom halts and releases your hand. He gestures towards the lifeless body.  "Do you see that? Hundreds of those things have already touched Terra, 3 earth months ago." 

  You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself, trying to keep warm. The deep timber of his voice brings you back to reality. "They proliferate with astonishing speed, ceaselessly multiplying. Your planet is infested, we're only here to see if it was preventable. We were too late." 

As he looks down upon you, his eyes soften, embracing the sight of your trembling figure.  "Our ultimate aim is to gather a chosen few among humanity and escort you to a hospitable planet, so that you can once again repopulate."

You shake your head slowly, taking a step back, "I cannot abandon my sister here." Dom releases a fierce growl, pointing his gun towards you and firing. The beam narrowly misses you, striking another monster in the head.

"Make it quick."

In a flurry of movement, you dart into the house, the groceries slipping from your grasp and finding their place on the table in a haphazard manner. Dom follows silently, his presence masked by a cloaking device that renders him invisible to the naked eye. 

Your heart races within your chest, a wild stallion galloping against the confines of its cage, as you ascend the stairs with reckless abandon, the sound of your footsteps reverberating loudly against the wooden steps. Bursting into Jess' room, a wave of relief washes over you, a grateful prayer whispered under your breath. Taking a seat on her bed, your smile quivers with a mixture of emotions.

Her expression is one of bewilderment and a touch of fear. Tenderly, you sweep a strand of hair away from her face. "Do me a favor, my sweet girl. Pack some clothes, but pack light. I'll explain on the way but do it quickly." Jess has always trusted your decisions without hesitation, and she won't begin to question them now. She swiftly jumps out of bed and retrieves a bookbag from her wardrobe, the very same one you both use during your camping adventures.

"We don't have much time, little female." His tone isn't rushing in the slightest but you quickly head to your room and grab your book bag. You gather only the essentials - tough denim, comfortable shirts, reliable footwear, empty notebooks, and writing tools.

Jess rushed into the room, packing faster than anticipated, much to your relief. You take her hand and guide her out, but suddenly a loud crash interrupts. Both of you scream and huddle in the corner. Dom reveals himself and fires a shot, striking the massive creature in the shoulder. Its deafening roar rattles the house and you hear your parents' heavy footsteps approaching. Just as the monster lunges towards you, Dom takes aim and shoots it in the head. Neon blood splatters the wall, causing it to slowly dissolve.

With wide, frightened eyes, Jess looks up at you as you cling to her protectively. Your parents step into the room, dressed in their robes, shocked expressions on their faces as they take in the scene in front of them. Dom pays no attention to them, instead turning his gaze towards you and giving you a once-over.

" Are you ready?" 

 With a subtle nod, you accept his outstretched hand, intertwining your fingers with his while ensuring your younger sister is safe by your side. The first to break the silence is your father, his voice laced with bewilderment. "What the hell is happening?!" His eyes fixate on you, as if you hold the key to unraveling this enigma. Disregarding his inquiry, Dom strides past, leading the three of you down the staircase. Your parents trail behind, bombarding you with a flurry of questions. Despite their persistent curiosity, you make a conscious effort to block out their voices, but your mother intervenes by snatching Jess away from your side.

With a sudden movement, the girl breaks free and falls into your waiting arms. Dom brandishes his weapon, his expression icy and resolute. Your mother retreats, seeking solace in the arms of your father.

 Dom takes the lead, while the two of you follow closely. Observing Jess, he sees her slight build and anticipates she may have difficulty keeping pace. However, he remains utterly unfazed, not a hint of complaint escaping his lips. In a surprising display of strength, he effortlessly lifts her, prompting her to let out a startled yelp, and places her book bag on his shoulder.

" We need to move fast. Keep up."

 As you secure your book bag and inhale deeply, a rush of adrenaline courses through you. Dom sprints ahead, weapon in hand. The sound of breaking glass startles you, disrupting the tranquility of the surroundings you had just passed. The anguished cries of parents and children tug at your heartstrings, but your focus remains on Jess.

—

 The length of time you've been running is a blur, your legs now numb from the effort. Nevertheless, you persist, matching his pace as best as you can. Jess has succumbed to sleep, worn out from the night's adventures. You grin wearily at her and give yourself a firm slap on the cheeks, determined to stay awake.

 Dom is pleasantly surprised by how far you've been able to sprint, appreciating your resilience and commitment to your kin. As the three of you reach a vast clearing, he gradually slows down and halts. You catch up to him, panting heavily, with sweat glistening on your skin. You look at him, curious as to why he's stopped. Dom raises his arm and utters something in his native tongue. The gauntlet beeps and responds to him in kind.

The once vacant clearing now teems with life as your gaze is captivated by the majestic arrival of a ship. Its sheer grandeur overwhelms you, compelling you to take a step back. Towering above, the ship's entrance demands you to tilt your head back. 

As Dom guides you onward, the hatch swings open, inviting you to step onto its surface. A warm welcome awaits you from a gathering of his companions, each adorned in vibrant hues, yet all sharing the distinctive feature of milky white eyes. Drawing nearer to Dom, you find solace in the proximity of your sister. They engage in conversation briefly, before the hatch seals shut and Dom secures his firearm in its holster. " You will be safe here. The ship will take off tomorrow night when my people come with more of your kind."

  He leads the two of you to a room, one big bed placed in the middle of it accompanied by a smattering of curious contraptions. The walls exude an ethereal shade of slate grey metal, while a petite window graces the space just above a cozy sitting area. Tenderly, Dom settles Jess upon the bed and places the bag on a nearby table. He looks towards you and motions forward. "Rest."

As he moves towards the room's exit, you seize his hand. Your eyes betray a lack of trust, not in him, but in the very ship and its occupants. Dom stares at you, his emotions veiled, and you struggle to hold back tears. " Will you come back? Are you leaving us?" 

 In Dom's world, the idea of a female requiring reassurance and assistance was unfamiliar territory. The females on his planet, known as sîmalę, were formidable warriors, often occupying positions of power surpassing those of the males. Dom found himself fortunate to have gotten his position. [ Female¹]

He reminds himself that you are a human hailing from the terra planet. The concept of hunting or encountering creatures that did not resemble pets or the animals confined within the cages of a zoo was foreign to you. Dom gently releases your hand from his grasp, his gaze emanating reassurance despite the vacancy in his expression." Sleep, little female and this one will be back soon."  

Observing as you reluctantly nod, you make your way towards the bed. With tenderness, you remove your sister's shoes and tuck her in, finding solace in this simple act of nurturing. Your savior exits the room, leaving you to collapse onto your knees, tears cascading from your eyes. The events of today crash upon you with the intensity of a thunderstorm, and you come to the realization that it is now solely you and your sister. A small part of you regrets not bringing your parents along, but you have convinced yourself that it was the wisest choice.

 " What's wrong?"

You swiftly brush away the tears with the back of your hand. Gazing at your sister, you grasp her hand gently in yours. Her eyes hold a hint of doubt as you shake your head. It was crucial to show Jess that you were the pillar of strength, assuring her safety and control.

  "It's nothing, I'm just exhausted. Let's head to sleep okay?" Jess nods, revealing the empty side of the bed for you to rest on. You kick off your shoes and wrap yourself in the comforter. Jess joins you promptly, nestling beside you to provide warmth. The lights recognize your need for rest and dim down.

  "I love you." 

You grin and hold her hand in yours. "I love you too."

—-

The gentle murmur of voices pulls you from your slumber, but Jess is no longer by your side, leaving you feeling a sense of emptiness. Your eyes gradually open, taking in your surroundings. A sleepy yawn escapes your lips as you sit up in bed. The voices fall silent, only to be replaced by Jess' voice, beckoning you to join the conversation.

"Are you finally awake?"

A slight thumbs up is the only response Jess receives before you run your hands over your eyes, dispelling the drowsiness. "Dom says that the others will be back soon, in two hours. Then we'll be leaving here." At the mention of his name, you lift your gaze completely. The alien is stationed at the entrance, arms crossed, sporting a ghostly smile as a greeting.

Relief floods through you when he appears, and he can sense it too. Your oxytocin levels spike at the mere sight of him. The moment is disrupted by the loud rumbling of Jess' stomach, leading her to groan and flop onto the bed. "I'm starving!"

  A piece of your heart is relieved to see Jess back to her usual self, yet a part of you understands the importance of discussing the recent events and what lies ahead. Dom opens the room door and motions to it. "This one will take you to the canteen, you'll eat there." 

   Jess eagerly jumps out of bed, taking your hand and pulling you along. "Hurry, I don't want to go by myself," she pleads. You yield to her plea and stand up. Dom watches the two of you but doesn't race you to get ready. The two of you quickly put on your shoes and exit the room.

Dom assumes the lead, acknowledging the presence of the guards stationed throughout the ship. "You will eat with the rest of your kind, worry not." You reciprocate with a nod, holding your sister tightly while marveling at the ship and its bewildering gadgets that surpass Earth's comprehension. Dom opens the door for both of you, placing a comforting hand on your lower back. His touch brings solace as you step inside, with Jess following closely behind. Although the canteen isn't teeming with people, its modest occupancy provides a semblance of safety within the ship's vast expanse.

"Jess?"

    The sound of your sister's name comes from a girl with dyed red and pink hair. A dazzling diamond stud graces her pierced nose, and her eyes gleam in a warm toffee shade. It takes a moment for your sister to locate the person who called out to her, but when she does, her eyes fill with tears of happiness as she waves in acknowledgment.

You anticipate your sister's eager rush, yet she remains rooted, her hand clasping yours with increasing intensity, as if seeking your validation. A profound connection is forged as your eyes meet, and despite the weariness etched upon your visage, you manage to summon a tired smile, silently conveying your agreement. With unwavering determination, Jess propels herself towards the girl in the queue, leaping into her outstretched arms. "Kayla!"

 While your sister is occupied, you sit at an unoccupied table, startled by Dom's sudden presence across from you. "How do you and your kin fair? Little female." It's a pity that you feel more at ease with an alien than your own kind. 

" My name is [ ]."  The nickname he has given you isn't one that offends you in any way. The way he uses it is quite endearing, but you'd rather him call you by your real name than anything else. You wring your hands together and your stress levels rise steadily. Anxious thoughts swirl in your mind as you ponder,  "What will happen to everyone else that's left here?" 

Your name carries the meaning of 'to conquer' in his native tongue and he finds it fitting for you. Dom's jaw tightens slightly as he locks eyes with you. "This one will not lie to you. Many of your species will die, it is survival of the fittest when it comes to the Qęnłar. They are hard to kill without proper weapons but it is not impossible."  

[ Abomination¹]

A soft gasp is stifled by your hand as tears well up in your eyes. The sense of guilt consumes you, making you question your own worthiness. Unsure of how you could have helped, you can't help but feel like an imposter among those who perished.

Dom seems to sense your inner turmoil and does his best to console you. "There is not much you could've done, litt–."His voice falters momentarily as he nearly utters the name he'd given you, but he swiftly regains composure. "Had you not gone out that night, you also could've been left here on terra to die. None aboard this vessel would have spared a second thought to rescue you." 

 It's clear that he's not skilled at soothing people, particularly humans, yet you offer your thanks with a watery smile. As he opens his mouth to speak again, he gently places a hand on his ear. Despite the absence of eyebrows, you observe the furrow in the center of his forehead. His gaze turns icy as he stands up from the table.

   "This one will find you in your chambers later, ask the guard to lead you when you are ready. Fęrłåk dė hłał." Although you don't understand the meaning behind his words, you nod in agreement, captivated by the enigmatic aura surrounding him. He then departs, pausing briefly to converse with the guard. [ Eat well ¹] 

  With a glance in your direction, the alien acknowledges Dom with a nod. Your stomach emits a low growl, prompting you to lay your head on the table, too fatigued to make a move.

Clang!

Next to your slouched figure, Jess sets down two trays brimming with mouth-watering dishes. As you straighten up, a grin spreads across your face. You instinctively grab the tray loaded with an assortment of fruits, feeling understood by her intuitive gesture— she knew you so well.

"Where did he go?" You assume she's talking about Dom. With a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders, you indulged in the succulent sweetness of a ripe mango, savoring each delicate bite.

 "Jess. What happened yesterday–."

The girl holds up her hand. "I don't know what happened when you left, and there's no need to tell me. I've never questioned anything you've done for me before because you always have the best interest at heart. Thank you for coming back for me. Dom told me that you wouldn't leave without me." 

She gazes down at her tray of food. "A part of me feels guilty for leaving mom and dad but I know that you made the right decision and had your reasons." Jess lets out a shaky sigh and turns to face you. "I'm scared, absolutely terrified but I want to be strong for you. Like how you are for me. I can tell you're stressed as it is and I don't want to burden you." 

  You pull her into a hug and shake your head. "Jess, you could never, and I mean never be a burden to me. Do you understand?" She nods into your chest, sniffling softly. You rub her back and bite your lip. "I'm also really scared, this is new to me but I'll make sure that we'll get through it."

She nods again and pulls away from you. You purse your lips, a mixture of emotions swirling within you, and decide to divert your attention by savoring the delectable cantaloupe. "Now eat. You pulled me from my sleep and I want to go back to bed."  Jess chuckles softly, her head bobbing in agreement. " I'm also really sleepy. It'd also be crazy to wake up in space." 

 The mere thought causes you to grimace involuntarily. This entire experience is uncharted territory for you, but just like in the past, you will learn to adapt and persevere. The cool, refreshing juice of the watermelon glides down your throat, its delightful taste prompting a gentle hum of satisfaction.

 It feels almost surreal to grasp the idea that within a mere two hours, you will bid farewell to your beloved home. A place you believed to be exclusively inhabited by humans, the notion of extraterrestrial existence had never crossed your mind. The journey that lies ahead will undoubtedly present its fair share of challenges and hardships. This very moment, unfolding like a scene from an otherworldly sci-fi saga, is something you never could have anticipated, even in your wildest dreams. And now, as you find yourself in this new reality, your mission has taken on a profound meaning - to protect Jess at all costs.

 "Captain X'ęnš would like to enter your chambers. Will you allow him access?"

   In a state of heightened alertness, you find yourself sitting up, your muscles tense with anticipation. The room is suddenly bathed in light, only to swiftly dim as the perceptive AI detects that Jess is still sound asleep. A wave of uncertainty washes over you as you contemplate the identity of the person standing outside the door. 

 Your gaze sweeps across the room, desperately seeking an object to grasp onto for a sense of security. Eventually, your eyes settle upon one of your worn boots. With a mixture of doubt and determination, you call out to the AI. "Please show me the door feed." A brief moment of silence ensues before the AI responds, its voice calm and reassuring. "Certainly."

The door shimmers, revealing a translucent barrier that draws you nearer. Dropping the shoe, you breathe a sigh of contentment at the sight of Dom standing before you. Standing in front of the door, you gaze at him, captivated by the intricacies of his face.

 "Can he see me?"

In a swift response, the AI speaks, "Negative, this is a unidirectional perspective. He is visible solely to you."  As soon as it finishes saying that, Dom raises his head. Your heart pounds rapidly as his gaze eerily connects with yours, contradicting the AI's statement. "Open the door."

As the entryway unfolds with a whisper, Dom's towering figure emerges. You greet him with a breathless smile, slipping your hands into your back pockets. "Hi." Dom mellows at your soft tone, allowing you to place a hand on his arm and push him back, watching as you discreetly slide out of the room so as to not wake up your sister. He does a once over, looking for any wounds or signs of distress, and finds that he's pleased with himself that you're alright. 

 "This one said he would visit after his duties, jœrmünd łæ bšłåm." He watches with amusement as your eyebrows furrow. " What does that mean?" Your lips form a thoughtful pout. "And earlier you said, ferrak di hal." From the moment you first laid eyes on him, even though it was just recently, you had been curious to discover the sound of his laughter, and it did not disappoint.

   His laugh isn't boisterous. It's a deep and soothing sound, akin to the soft murmur of a distant waterfall. As the echoes of his laughter reached your ears, they stirred a gentle fire within, causing a delightful warmth to spread and caress your belly. Whether he noticed the subtle increase in your body's temperature or not, he remained silent, allowing the enchantment of the moment to weave its spell.

    "Jœrmünd łæ bšłåm, it translates roughly in terra language to, 'good evening.'" His eyes twinkle with a playful delight as you attempt to mimic the intricate sounds and melodic cadence. " Fęrłåk dė hłał. It means to, eat well."

Dom gazes intently at you, then clasps his hands behind his back. "Walk with this one."  You wriggle your toes in your cozy socks and give a slight nod. 

As if guided by an invisible force, your steps align effortlessly with Dom's. The silence envelops you, but it feels far from uncomfortable. Your gaze wanders through the vast corridors of the ship, capturing glimpses of unfamiliar beings from distant worlds. At this moment, you break the silence and softly inquire, "May I know your name?"

With a quick glance, Dom's gaze shifts to you, his lips forming a straight line, prompting a frown to appear on your face. You ponder if your request was too bold, unsure of the cultural norms that may have been offended by your question.

As he utters the words, a sense of relief washes over you, even though his expression seems tinged with sadness. "This one's given name is Nim'xėn." he murmurs. In the distance, a group of his fimea approaches, but you remain oblivious, lost in your own thoughts. With a tender touch, he clasps your wrist and guides you to his side, yet your attention barely registers the gesture. [ soldiers ]

  "Nim'xėn, in the language I speak, translates to 'of soft heart'. It doesn't much fit, when it comes to this one's line of work." Your mouth opened in a small 'o', that was probably the reason he had stuck with Dom all this time. You laughed softly, holding your hands up in surrender when he shoots you a coltish look of exasperation. 

    "I think it fits, regardless of what you do." There is no trace of mockery in your tone, nor any hint of jesting at his expense. With a gentle smile adorning his face, he steals a glance at you. A surge of warmth courses through your veins, causing your body temperature to soar. Swiftly, he averts his gaze, evading your notice.

With a gentle laugh, he responds to your attempt at saying his name, "Nim'jin?" He guides you towards a door, "This one will help you practice your Tuökkorsė, later." You assume that he's talking about his home language and your cheeks flush with embarrassment, making you question just how badly you butchered his name.

As Nim'xėn gently swings open the door, a beckoning gesture invites you to step inside. Without hesitation, you follow the invitation, and in an instant, your jaw falls open in awe. Unbeknownst to you and Jess, who had been lost in slumber for over two hours, the ship had gracefully ascended into the vastness of space. The sight before you is nothing short of breathtaking, confirming your belief that waking up to the wonders of the cosmos is an experience beyond compare.

The space around you is encased in what looks like a delicate glass structure. You floated weightlessly in the vast expanse of the universe, far from the comforts of home. "Nim, this is truly breathtaking," you marveled. The alien blinked in response to the endearing nickname but remained silent. "Jess would love to see this." 

  Nim'xėn walks up behind you and fixates on the view he has witnessed countless times. However, inexplicably, he discovers himself treasuring your pįiwth expressions and yearning to unveil new wonders, all to witness your delightful grin once more. [ childish or cute¹ ] 

 "This one gives permission for you and your kin to visit here anytime." The enigmatic allure you possess has captivated him, leaving him bewildered. It is not his nature to be swayed so easily. He should have abandoned you on that desolate street, yet your innocent gaze had a profound effect on him. The depth of your love for your family astounded him, for even in the presence of imminent danger, your thoughts were solely consumed by her, and her alone.

Once he had escorted you to your room, his task should have been complete. Yet, your tender human hand had entwined with his own. Your unwavering trust and reliance had ensnared him, making it difficult for him to let go. In a realm where his female counterparts were independent and formidable, that moment of vulnerability had drawn him in, like a eürq to light.

 [ large mosquito like creature —  a saying similar to, ' a moth to flame ' ¹ ]

   Yet, he also knew how strong you were. None before you had managed to match his speed, let alone endure it for an entire three hours. Your unwavering determination fascinated him. Nim'xėn yearned to prolong your time together, reluctant to bid you farewell.

 Turning to the extraterrestrial, you met his gaze with the same wide-eyed innocence that had captivated him during your initial encounter. "Seriously?" His nod elicited a radiant smile on your face, reminiscent of the joy of Christmas, and Nim'xėn felt a flutter in his hearts. Your eyes then sought his. "How do you say thank you in your language?"

 Nim'xėn couldn't help but find it pįiwth¹ that you were making an effort to learn his people's language. He decided to humor you. "Stęq'hn kevvhr.²" The alien chuckles when you grimace, looking up at him with furrowed brows.  [ childish or cute¹ ] [ thank you² ]

 "Lirft X'ęnš, quœ mojå iėał ph'ük ak hlem.¹ "

As he tightens his jaw, a resolute grunt escapes his lips. Returning his attention to you, he observes the slight downturn of your plush lips and the tilt of your head to the side. "Do you need to leave, again?" Nim'xėn softly hums, his hand finding solace on your lower back as he leads you towards the door.

[ Captain X'ęnš, we need your assistance up front. ¹ ]

"This one will take you back to your room."

 As you tread back, a hushed calmness settles in, and Nim'xėn discerns that your thoughts have carried you away. Respecting your need for introspection, he chooses not to disturb your reverie. Upon arriving at the room, you turn around, meeting his gaze head-on. "Stęq'han kever." Without delay, you slip inside, leaving him standing there, his words left unspoken.

   He then realizes that while the two of you were walking back, you had been trying to replicate what he had just said. Nim'xėn, finding himself once more, made his way towards the pit. Despite your imperfect rendition, he grasped the essence of your intention and couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

phæż pįiwth ¹ he thought.  [ how cute. ¹ ]

#monster headcanons #terato #monster lover #monster x reader #monster x human #monster x you #monster romance #fantasy #female writers #possessive #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #female reader #mates #monster imagine #male monster #monster bf #alien x reader #alien x human #alien #alien oc #x reader #x you #deunmiu dessie

[tigertales9]

Hard Reset II

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: This fic covers the week 2 loss to the Ravens plus the lead-up to week 3 and the win against the Rams.

Time/Place: Sunday, Sep. 17, 2023 - Monday, Sep. 25, 2023 / Cincinnati, Ohio

A/N: This is a follow-up to Hard Reset

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sunday, 9/17/23 (just after the week 2 loss to the Ravens)

You wave to Joe's parents as they drive off down the street, eventually walking toward the house as your mind rewinds to the game …

Joe had performed better but was still clearly hampered by the injury, his limp worse than ever after he tweaked the bad calf trying to evade pressure. He'd asked you and his parents not to meet him in the tunnel after the game if the Bengals lost, so y'all went straight home, his parents deciding to drop you off and drive back to Athens instead of spending the night like they planned.

Once you're in the house you text Joe to let him know his parents decided to head home; you take a quick shower and change into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, fighting the urge to check social media to see what folks are saying about the game.

You eventually get a text back from Joe letting you know he's headed home; you pace back and forth until you hear the garage door open, your pulse picking up as he walks into the house, the jaunty curl gracing his forehead a stark contrast to his somber expression.

"Hey," you greet him, hurrying to give him a hug before looking up into his face. "Is it bad?" you ask.

"Well, it's not great," he snaps, wincing as soon as the words leave his mouth. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so rude."

"It's okay. I know you're frustrated," you soothe. "Do we need to do anything to it tonight? Massage? Elevation? Compression?"

He nods his head. "All of the above, although the massage isn't mandatory."

"Does it hurt?"

"It's pretty sore and tight, yeah," he admits. "How it responds in the next few days will decide if I'm playing next week or not."

You nod your head and bite your tongue. Surely he's not playing next week, right? you think to yourself, taking a deep breath as he studies your facial expression.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, a slight edge in his voice.

"I mean … you clearly tweaked it again. It seems to be getting worse not better. I just hope the medical team makes the right decision." He opens his mouth to retort but you quickly change the subject. "Are you hungry?"

He wrinkles his nose. "I'm hungry but nothing sounds good. Plus I need to go watch some film, and that will def make me lose my appetite." He walks a few steps toward the stairs before turning around and walking back; he leans down to drop a kiss on your lips, pulling back to search your face. "Don't worry," he orders, giving you a tiny smile before pressing another quick kiss on your lips.

You watch as he heads upstairs, taking them one at a time and clearly limping instead of bounding up them two at a time like he normally does. He makes eye contact with you just before he disappears, the defeated look on his face breaking your heart. Well shit, you think to yourself, feeling absolutely helpless to do anything to make him feel better.

You walk into the kitchen and spot your phone on the counter; you grab it and send a quick text to Joe's mom to let her know he got home okay. After that you head into the living room and plop down on the sofa, not really feeling like doing anything and not knowing when Joe will be done watching film -- could be thirty minutes, could be three hours. The only sure thing is he'll be in an even worse mood once he's done.

You heave a sigh and roll your shoulders, your eyes landing on a throw pillow as a thought hits you. "Oh yeah," you mutter, snatching the pillow off the sofa before heading for the stairs; you make a quick detour through the kitchen to grab a bottle of orange mango BodyArmor out of the fridge before making your way up to Joe's office.

He's changed into a t-shirt and shorts, a black compression sleeve visible on his right calf, ankle to knee. You quickly approach him and set the cold drink on a coaster on his desk before dragging an armchair over and dropping the pillow on it. "Elevate your leg," you urge, watching as he lifts his leg up and props it on the pillow. "Need anything else?" you ask. "I'm good, babe, thanks," he mutters, giving you a distracted smile before turning his attention back to the action on the screen.

You walk down the hallway to the master bedroom, crawling onto the bed as you decide to kill some time by scrolling your phone, strategically avoiding any and all football news.

You scroll for about forty minutes before remembering the chicken and dumplings in the fridge. You ease out of bed and creep down the hallway, wincing at the disgruntled grumbling noises coming from Joe's office. "Better call an audible," you whisper, heading downstairs to heat up the food instead of asking him if he's hungry.

You ladle a hearty portion into a saucepan and turn on the heat, smiling once it starts to simmer, the tendrils of fragrant steam wafting upward to work their magic. He has a nose like a bloodhound when it comes to food, and it's not long before you hear him ambling down the stairs

"What's that delicious smell?" he asks, sniffing the air as he walks into the kitchen.

"Your mom made you some chicken and dumplings."

"Really?"

"Yeah." You chuckle at the look on his face. "Brought 'em all the way from Athens in a cooler for her baby boy."

"That was nice," he mutters.

"Yes it was," you agree. "Have a seat," you continue, pointing at a barstool before you dish up his dinner; you set the bowl down in front of him, smiling when he grabs his spoon and tucks into it, making appreciative noises as he quickly demolishes the entire bowl.

"Pretty good, huh?" you ask.

"Delicious," he groans, rubbing his full belly. "You're not having any?" he asks.

"I ate earlier," you answer, not mentioning that your dinner was a few olives and a handful of cashews because your stomach was tied in knots from the game.

"I'm so fucking tired," he grumbles. "Too bad I need to watch more film tonight."

"Nope!" you blurt out, shaking your head. "Fuel and rest are the most important things for your recovery. You fueled up," you continue, shaking his empty bowl, "and now it's time to rest. You're gonna turn your phone off, brush your teeth then let me massage you until you're hopefully relaxed enough to fall asleep. You can watch more film tomorrow."

You turn to head to the sink before spinning back around. "One quick thing before you turn your phone off … send a text to your mom saying the chicken and dumplings were delicious and you'll call her tomorrow."

His mouth is hanging open at this point and he lets out a bemused chuckle. "Damn, woman, you're barkin' orders at me like a drill sergeant."

"Damn right," you grin before nodding at his phone. "Get to it, soldier."

Fifteen minutes later you finish brushing your teeth and walk into the bedroom, your eyes raking over Joe who is already laying face down on the bed wearing nothing but the black compression sleeve on his right calf.

"You want me to use the massage wand or just my hands?"

"Just your hands."

You slide your shorts off and straddle his waist, starting the massage at his neck and shoulders -- giving extra attention to his throwing shoulder -- before slowly working your way down his tall, muscular frame. It takes a lot of self-control not to lean down and sink your teeth into one of his perfectly plump cheeks, but you keep it moving, working both of his thighs and his good calf before concentrating on his strained calf, his little grunts and groans of pleasure going straight to your crotch.

"That's good, babe," he eventually mutters, rolling over onto his back, a sheepish smile gracing his lips when your eyes land on his impressive erection. "Just ignore that," he mumbles. "You're probably completely turned off by me since I've been playing so shitty," he continues, pulling the edge of the sheet over his crotch and a pillow over his face.

You grin to yourself knowing his sore ego needs massaging just as much as his sore body; you decide to lay it on thick while massaging his thighs "That's a load of bullshit and you know it," you scoff. "I was turned on the second I laid eyes on you at LSU -- before I knew you were a football player -- and that feeling only grew as I got to know you better." He makes a snorting noise that's muffled by the pillow as you continue. "That was back before you were Joe Shiesty or Joe Brrr, remember? Back when you were just an incoming transfer QB who'd been a benchwarmer at OSU for the previous three seasons."

He pulls the pillow off of his face and makes eye contact with you. "Keep talking," he mumbles.

"The fact you were on the football team was the least interesting thing about you as far as I was concerned, and I was attracted to you in spite of it not because of it."

""Cause you thought I was a fuck boy."

"I thought most college football players were fuck boys. Took me a minute to realize you were different."

"What made you realize I was different?"

Y'all have had this discussion before, but you lean into it because he clearly needs to hear it again. "You never pressured me for sex. Gave me plenty of time to get to know you first." You give him a naughty grin. "And then when we finally had sex you got me off with your fingers and tongue first, and then when you came in like five minutes you got me off again."

"You liked that, huh?"

"Loved it," you admit, continuing to work your way up his thighs.

"Thank God I lasted longer than five minutes for round two."

"You were amazing," you sigh, "and you're still mind-blowingly amazing, but being a generous lover is just the cherry on top. You're also kind, compassionate, gorgeous, intelligent, funny as hell." You scoot forward, smiling when he spreads his legs wider to accommodate you. "You can hold conversations on everything from SpongeBob to superluminal time travel," you continue, giving him a wink. "In other words you're the complete package. And win or lose, I'll always want you more than anything."

His breath catches in his throat when you slide the sheet to the side to uncover his erection, your eyes never leaving his as you lean down and slowly run your tongue base to tip, sucking the plump head just inside your mouth and swirling your tongue around it a few times while he groans his approval. You fully intend to give him some super sloppy, world-class head but he stops you just a few minutes in.

"That's so good, babe, but I need to be inside you," he moans. You hesitate for a second and he yanks the pillow back over his face, his voice muffled again. "I knew it. You're probably drier than the Sahara."

"It's not that," you soothe, trying not to laugh at his pity party theatrics. "I just don't wanna hurt your leg." You crawl up his body until you're straddling his hips before easing the pillow off of his face; you slip your t-shirt off and toss it on the floor, smiling when his gaze immediately drops to your bare breasts. You reach down and pull your panties to the side before nestling your slick folds against his erection, sliding up and down his hard length several times until he's coated in your juices. "Does this feel dry to you?"

"No," he mutters, dropping a hand down to push his tip just inside your wet heat; you take over from there, slowly impaling yourself on his thick shaft while he teases your sensitive nipples.

Once he's fully seated he gently rolls you onto your back. "Don't hurt your leg," you urge. "It's okay," he murmurs. "If I can play a football game I can make love to my wife."

"We're not married yet," you whisper. "Won't be until this off-season."

"Might as well be," he states, the intense look on his face as he locks eyes with you feeling even more intimate than his cock moving inside you.

About twenty minutes into making the kind of slow-burn love that makes your toes curl, he stops his thrusts while buried deep inside you and meets your gaze. "I gotta stop for a sec," he murmurs, licking his lips and giving you a smile. "I'm close and I don't wanna cum yet. You feel too good."

"Okay," you breathe, raising a hand to brush his unruly curls off of his forehead, biting your lip when your core involuntarily clenches around his thick length. "Sorry," you whisper at his sharp intake of breath. "Didn't mean to do that."

"It's okay," he soothes, dropping a lingering kiss on your lips before staring into your eyes, his expression hard to read.

"What are you thinking?" you ask. "That I'm lucky to have you," he answers, capturing your lips before you can return the sentiment; he deepens the kiss and resumes thrusting, groaning when you dig your heels into his back and arch up against him. "Jesus, I'm close," he grits out a little while later, dropping a hand down to tease your clit, his climax hitting a few seconds after yours.

After a few minutes of mutual heavy breathing he locks eyes with you again, his face so close to yours that you breathe each other's breath as you continue to recover from the intense climax. He eventually drops a kiss on your lips and rolls off of you, immediately pulling you against him, his big spoon to your little spoon; he buries his nose in your hair and inhales deeply a few times before speaking.

"This game will eventually chew me up and spit me out; it means a lot to know you'll always be there for me."

"Always," you echo back to him, a little overwhelmed at the raw vulnerability in his words, a vulnerability that he usually keeps to himself. You wonder if you should say something else. Maybe I should reassure him a little more? you think to yourself, breathing a sigh of relief when he let's out a tiny snore. Another twenty minutes pass before your mind quiets down enough for you to join him in sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Monday, 9/18/23

The next day passes by quickly, and before you know it you're snuggled on the sofa with Joe watching the Browns vs Steelers on Monday Night Football. Early in the second quarter you're resting your head on his shoulder and barely paying attention to the game when he flinches hard. "Fuck!" he snaps, immediately turning the TV off when you ask "what happened?"

"Somebody got hurt," he answers.

"Why did you turn the TV off?"

"Because it's bad and I don't want you to see it."

"It was that bad?"

"Yeah," he nods, wincing as he watches the replay on his phone. "Nick Chubb got his knee caved in. Do NOT watch the replay, okay?"

"I hate this fucking game," you mumble, untangling yourself from his embrace before rushing upstairs, tears spilling down your cheeks as you curl up on the bed.

He walks into the room a minute later, stretching out beside you as you cry into your pillow. "I'm sorry I'm burdening you with my emotions," you sniff, burying your face deeper into your pillow. "You're not burdening me," he soothes, running a hand up and down your back. "I'm the reason you're worried, and I can't do anything about that, but at least let me hold you while you cry, okay?"

You eventually roll over and bury your face in his neck, crying harder for a few minutes before finally calming down, his warmth, his scent and his soothing words a balm to your frazzled nerves.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Tuesday, 9/19/23 - Saturday, 9/23/23

The next several days pass by uneventfully, with Joe heading out in the mornings after breakfast and not returning until dinner time, heading upstairs to his office after dinner to watch film while you throw yourself into a work project you volunteered for to get your mind off of other things.

You'd agreed not to ask about the status of his injury, instead trusting him to let you know if the status changed, one way or the other.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Sunday, 9/24/23

On Sunday he heads to Sam's house to watch football with some of the guys; you give him a kiss as he leaves, letting him know you're going out with the girls later for dinner and drinks.

Several hours later you wave goodbye to your friends as they drop you off in front of your house; you sashay up the stairs to the front door, the tequila in your system putting a little extra swish in your step. You unlock the door and twirl your way into the house, letting out a sharp squeal when you see Joe leaning against the wall. "Holy shit! You scared me!" you snap, your pulse picking up as he pushes away from the wall and approaches you.

"Why did I scare you?" he asks.

"I just … I thought you'd already be at the team hotel, so I wasn't expecting you to be home."

"I've got like two hours until curfew; you really thought I was gonna go there that early?"

You shrug. "Guess I thought wrong."

"Guess so," he mutters, giving you a thorough up-and-down look. "You look incredible," he continues, his gaze taking in your fitted wrap sweater, mini skirt and patent leather heels. He leans down to press a kiss on your neck. "How many guys hit on you tonight?"

"None," you snort. "We went to that dive bar & grill just down the street from Gina's house. It was practically empty except for us."

"I don't believe you," he whispers against your ear. "No way you didn't get hit on looking like this."

"Umm, I totally didn't get hit on." You lean back and lock eyes with him. "Where's this coming from? Are you drunk?"

"No, I'm not drunk. Are you?"

You shrug. "I'm a little buzzed. I had two margaritas, but I'm not the one making weird accusations. What's up?"

He takes a deep breath before responding. "I'm afraid you're gonna get tired of being in a constant state of anxiety and just decide I'm not worth it."

"Huh?" you mumble. "What are you talking about?"

"I just feel like you'd be happier with a guy who has a normal job -- like an accountant -- instead of having to be worried about me getting broke in half every week during the season."

"Nope," you chuckle, shaking your head. "I don't love your job but I love you."

"You're laughing but I'm serious."

"I'm serious, too."

He studies your expression for a few heartbeats before speaking up again. "What if I said I want to get a marriage license in the next few weeks and go down to the courthouse and get married?"

Your eyebrows head toward your hairline as you consider the question. "So no wedding?"

"We can still have a huge wedding, I just … what if we got married and didn't tell anybody. Just a secret between us."

You swallow hard as you contemplate his request, taking a deep breath before answering. "Okay," you chirp. "Let's do it!" The surprised look on his face making you giggle.

"What's so funny?" he asks.

"You bluffed and I called it," you giggle even harder, your stomach doing a flip at the serious look on his face. He braces a hand on the wall above your head then slowly moves forward, backing you up until there's barely breathing room between you; he licks his lips, his gaze dropping to your mouth before recapturing your gaze. "What makes you think I'm bluffing?" he asks.

You stare into his eyes for several seconds before looking down at your feet, the shiny patent pumps giving you an idea. "Sorry, I can't think straight when my feet hurt," you mutter, gasping when he immediately scoops you up bridal-style and heads for the living room, sitting you on the sofa before dropping to his knees at your feet.

The second he slides your heels off and starts massaging your feet with his talented fingers you know exactly where this is headed; it's been a couple days since y'all had sex, and that -- plus the tequila in your system -- pretty much guarantees that the next forty minutes are deliciously raunchy.

You untie your wrap sweater and unhook your front-clasp bra while he pushes your skirt up and slides your panties off, his eyes dark with arousal as he settles between your spread thighs, his tongue and fingers expertly bringing you to climax before he kisses his way down your legs and goes back to rubbing your feet.

You watch him for a few minutes as you come down from the orgasm, fully expecting him to pounce you once you catch your breath. When he doesn't make a move you take matters into your own hands, teasing your nipples while he watches then sliding a hand down to rub your clit, the sound he makes low in his throat causing your core to contract.

You slide a finger inside your slick heat, your breath catching in your throat when he leans forward and sucks your finger into his mouth, licking it clean before thrusting his tongue inside you, his big hands sliding up to tease your breasts as he brings you to the brink yet again; he shoves his shorts and undies down when you beg for his cock, burying his hard length deep inside you and riding you hard until you come apart, your fingernails digging into his muscular shoulders as he fucks you through the intense orgasm, his own climax hitting just a few heartbeats later.

After several minutes he locks eyes with you, smiling when you tweak the curl gracing his forehead. "You better get going," you whisper, biting your lip as he pulls out of you. "Let's take a quick shower together first," he orders, helping you off the sofa and ushering you upstairs.

He turns the shower on and steps inside. "You're gonna be a game time decision tomorrow, right?" you ask, stepping into the shower and leaning into him as he pulls you close. "Yes, ma'am," he answers. "You're gonna play, aren't you?" you whisper against his chest. "Yes, ma'am," he repeats, dropping a kiss on your forehead as you heave a sigh.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Monday, 9/25/23

You lean against the wall in the stadium tunnel, your entire body buzzing from the excitement of the electric atmosphere and the much-needed win over the Rams.

Joe was still hampered by the calf injury, but he seemingly got through the game without hurting it worse. That plus him and Ja'Marr hooking up for 141 yards was enough to put a goofy grin on your face. Your grin morphs into a huge smile when you see him approaching, his own face sporting a smile that will have the internet swooning, and rightfully so.

You hang back and let his parents hug him first, your pulse rate picking up when he locks eyes with you and steps forward, enveloping you in a tight hug before dropping a quick kiss on your lips. Your eyes go wide at the rare PDA. "I'm so p…proud of you," you sputter, more than a little flustered at the look on his face. "Thanks," he grins. "See you at home," he continues, leaning down until his mouth is touching your ear. "Hope you're not too tired," he whispers, his hot breath in your ear setting off a steady throb between your legs.

He leans back and takes in the look on your face, his eyes flicking down to your white knee boots and lingering there for a few heartbeats before he gives you a quick wink and heads toward the locker room.

~ ~ ~

Once back home you take a shower and crawl into bed, knowing Joe will come directly upstairs once he gets home, just like he always does when his parents spend the night after a late game.

It's not long before your phone rings; you check the display, butterflies taking flight in your stomach as you answer. "Hey babe."

"Hey," Joe says. "Are my parents still up?"

"No. They crashed like an hour ago. Your mom and I are gonna cook brunch tomorrow."

"Sounds great. Are you tired?"

"No," you whisper, your body reacting to his sensual tone.

"You still wearing those boots?"

"No. You want me to put 'em back on?"

"Yeah. Just the boots and nothing else."

"Yes, sir," you purr.

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Can't wait." You end the call and ease out of bed, walking into your closet to grab the white platform knee boots; you slide your panties off and step into the boots, fluffing your hair as you check your reflection in the full-length mirror, thanking your lucky stars that the guest room Joe's parents are sleeping in is downstairs and on the opposite side of the house.

A glint of light reflected in the mirror catches your eye and you look down, smiling when you realize it's your engagement ring. A thrill runs through you as you remember Joe calling you "my wife" just over a week ago when you were making love. You bite your lip when you think of just how close that is to being a reality, taking a deep breath as you let your mind rewind to earlier this morning.

~ ~ ~

He'd left the team hotel early this morning and dropped by the house to have breakfast with you like he always does for home games. He seemed more fidgety than normal, but you chalked it up to game day nerves until he cleared his throat and hit you with a serious question.

"What I said last night about getting married … we can do it during the upcoming bye week. We can apply for a marriage license and get married the same day."

You finished chewing a bite of waffle before swallowing and taking a gulp of orange juice, your mind racing as he continued.

"What do you say?" he asked. "Will you secretly marry me?"

"Yes!" you chirped, both of you grinning like idiots at each other at the thought of sharing such a delicious secret for several months until your actual wedding.

You bit your lip as another thought hit you. "What if some nosy asshole digs around and finds our marriage license? Are those public record?"

"Not if you have enough money."

"Oh, well I guess it's not a problem then, Mr. Money Bags," you teased.

"That'll be Mr. & Mrs. Money Bags in just a few more weeks."

~ ~ ~

You smile at your reflection as your mind snaps back to the present. You grab the black and white tiger-striped scarf you wore to the game and walk into the bedroom, draping the sheer fabric over your bedside lamp to add a little mood lighting, your pulse kicking into overdrive when you hear your soon-to-be husband's car pull into the garage.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine

[radiant-reid]

Father's Day is coming up and I'm thinking about Spencer with single mom!reader and her kid calling him dad and wanting to celebrate with him and Spencer getting super emotional from it

I’m 34 minutes late 😔

“Mommy, can we go to the mall?” Theo asks one afternoon after you get back home from his karate practice.

The question is surprising when it comes from the mouth of a kid who you have to drag along shopping, even for clothes.

“What do you need?” You ask with a slight look of concern.

“A present.” His elaboration falls short of what you’re looking for.

So you get more specific with your questioning. “For who? And why?”

“For Father’s Day.” He answers, and you feel the dread in your stomach about having to remind him that his biological father’s role in his life is reminiscent of a sperm donor. You don’t get time to speak first and when you hear what he says, you’re grateful you didn’t. “It’s for Spencer.”

Your eyes widen and you’re overwhelmed with emotions but you try to keep a casual facade. “That’s a sweet idea. What do you want to get him for Father’s Day?” You ask, carefully stepping around directly asking him what recently has given Spencer that title.

“A book?” He suggests. “I want him to like whatever it is. Lots.”

You kiss his forehead. “He will, buddy.”

Theo knows Spencer well, so well he picks out his favorite chocolate without needing your guidance. He also chooses a book that you know Spencer will be eager to read.

Sunday morning rolls around quickly, and Spencer has no idea that today is a milestone. In fact, you’re not sure he even knows it’s Father’s Day. With not speaking to his dad, there’s no need.

Theo comes and cuddles with you in bed- as is routine- while Spencer makes your morning coffee.

At five, he’s aware enough of how life works to understand that he’s never gotten a Father’s Day gift or called Spencer dad, and he’s worrying that Spencer might not be okay with it. It breaks your heart to see him anxiously playing with his fingers, when you know Spencer will be tearful over it.

“You okay, Teddy?” Spencer asks, easily noticing Theo’s worry. He’s the only person in the world that Theo lets call him Teddy.

“Go on.” You prompt him as Spencer sits back in his side of the bed.

Theo pulls the card and gift out from under the covers, shyly handing it over. “Happy Father’s Day, dad.”

The look on Spencer’s face is pure shock and he blinks with an ‘did I just hear that properly’ expression which quickly turn to joy as he reaches out to hug the boy.

You can see how tearful he is as he faces you while hugging Theo and you smile softly. “Thank you so much.” Spencer says when they pull back. You and him know it’s for more than a book and some chocolates.

“So…” Theo starts. “Can I call you dad now?”

Tears threaten to spill out of Spencer’s eyes and he nods. “Of course. I’d really love that.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid blurb

[jo-harrington]

Leave of Absence (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie has royally fucked everything up and he needs to fix it. But after an unexpected emergency back home, he steps up to be there for Reader, just like she's always there for him.

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.05

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Slow burn, mutual pining, angsty, emotional, fluffy, family problems, death in the family, loss, grief, pain and comfort, road trip, avoidance of feelings, Minor religious themes, mention of Catholic Church/Reader's family is Catholic but no overarching catholicism (that's what my other story is for)

Note: Woof ok this was an uphill battle FOR A YEAR. I'm gonna say the reason that Store Manager Verse exists in its present form is because of THIS CHAPTER RIGHT HERE. Before I could bring my two silly babies here to this moment, they needed to have some serious foundations laid down. Is it the best chapter? Probably not. But I'm incredibly happy that it's here and it's done.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other Eddie stories.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

He was nervous.

"Stacey."

Of course he was nervous.

"Freak."

And what did he do when he was nervous? He talked.

"Hey now, I'm wounded," Eddie laid a hand across his chest, trying to keep the cool guy exterior. "Calling me a freak? Did I or did I not just help you with that flat tire last week?"

He was surprised when Stacey paused, a barb surely caught on the end of her tongue. She even looked a little embarrassed for a moment before her own frosty expression returned and she had the decency to look down her nose at him.

Sticking to the status quo.

"I know you're trying to put my boss under a love spell or hypnosis or something," she rolled her eyes. "So don't act like you would have helped any other time if she hadn't asked. Gotta keep her buttered up so you can get in her pants. Gag."

The typical stab of insult was welcome; the rest of it...wasn't. Not when it came to you. Not after what happened on Sunday. Not when he was nervous.

Sunday...

What started out as a normal night for the two of you had quickly become a nightmare. For him at least.

Well...it had been a dream at first. Hanging out. Food, laughter, music; it was nothing out of the norm for a Sunday night together. But then he had to go and suggest a little weed, where you had some kind of...bad reaction. To try and get your mind off the panic that had quickly taken over your body...he'd done the first thing that came to mind.

The only thing that came to mind lately when you were around.

He kissed you.

And he kept kissing you because you hadn't pushed him away. In fact, you’d kissed him harder.

For minutes or hours, he couldn't quite tell, he was overjoyed and he basked in being surrounded by you, in finding pleasure with you.

Finding pleasure. God, there was that poet's heart Mrs. Mills always told him he had. Almost fucking. Grinding one out on his couch. But yeah...finding pleasure worked too. Because it wasn't just a meaningless romp; he was kind of crazy about you, so of course it was gonna be special. Poetic.

How long had he been on the edge about confessing his feelings and ruining your friendship? He was the only one to blame when it came to keeping his mouth shut; Kyle had been telling him to just ask you out and plant one on you forever. And then Eddie did and it was perfect.

Until it wasn't. Until Wayne came home and Eddie had seen the panic and the fear and the...realization in your eyes, and he knew how badly he'd fucked up. Let alone the fact that you immediately ran away.

You’d been avoiding him for a few days. “Avoiding him,” as though school and work hadn't been putting you on opposite schedules. Still, there were no phone calls. No waiting to take your breaks with him. Only awkward glances as he passed your store on the way to start his shift, or a strained smile as you passed each other in the parking lot as he was coming and you were going.

And now Stacey was…being Stacey.

Had you told her? Complained about him? Made it known to your employees that the two of you had made a huge mistake.

No you would never…

Still, his nerves got the better of him and although he didn’t want to seem desperate, especially around Stacey of all people, he was.

"...did she say that or..." He paused and shook his head. "Where is your boss anyway? She’s supposed to close tonight right?”

Stacey looked a little unsure again and this time it made his stomach turn.

People were usually nervous around Eddie, but he had grown plenty used to that reaction from a wide array of classmates and neighbors.

Once again, when it came to you, especially given the circumstances, things were different. Maybe that's what was happening here? Maybe Stacey knew something he didn't, and you'd told her not to say anything so you could let him down easily.

Eddie was generally a level-headed guy but sometimes...sometimes...it didn't matter if he had a level head because the entire world was tipping on its side.

Who had you told? Stacey for sure...maybe Chrissy? Chrissy always avoided him at school thanks to his resident freak status, Starcourt Mall be damned. What about Mindy? Mindy was your only other confidante outside of him; what did she know? Had she convinced you to...to what? Dump him as a friend? Take the time you needed to avoid him? Somewhere between Sunday and today, had you finally come to the realization that he had been dreading all along. That he wasn't worth your time?

"Um, yeah,” Stacey finally replied and Eddie blinked himself back to reality. She picked at her cuticles and avoided his eyes. Never a good sign. “Well she was supposed to but Mindy was here when I clocked in. She's sick or something, I don't know. Mindy wouldn't say exactly...but she never calls out so..."

“Well where’s Mindy now?” he asked, almost desperately.

“She’s finishing up her break in the back,” she explained with a nod. “I can go see if she’s done.”

She disappeared into the stockroom, leaving him alone in the store.

He was unsure how to feel. Relief coursed through him; you weren’t avoiding him, you were simply not here. But on the other hand, what if you weren't here because you were avoiding him?

What if Stacey didn't know anything but Mindy did. Because no, you never called off. Ever. A fact that you had told him when he suggested playing hooky one busy Saturday when you were overwhelmed by a never-ending mid shift.

“I never leave early. I never take a sick day.”

“Well, shit, did you have perfect attendance in school too?”

“Uhm,” you hesitated, biting your lip naughtily. “I’m not at will to say.”

“Oh, you bad girl.”

"If it isn't our resident Van Halen impersonator," Mindy greeted as she walked out of the stockroom. Her usual sing-songs mom voice replaced by a gentler one as she smiled at him solemnly. "She's taking a few sick days. Should be back in time for your night out on Sunday, I hope."

"She's sick?" Eddie asked skeptically. "Wasn’t she here yesterday, she looked fi--"

"Why don't you give her a call," she insisted. She glanced over to the stock room door and as Eddie tracked her gaze, he saw Stacey eavesdropping. "Actually I was gonna stop by after work. Why don't you go? That way it's not a game of telephone.

"I'm sure she could really use a friend right now."

---

Eddie had never been inside of your apartment before.

He knew where you lived, sure; he'd dropped you off or picked you up a few times, especially once the two of you started planning dates outings outside of the usual Sundays. He'd never even rang the bell, if he was being honest. You usually watched out the window eagerly when you were expecting him to arrive.

The realization hit him as he stood there at the little residential door between the bakery and the furniture store, staring at your name on a little Dymo punch label next to the buzzer that he'd just jammed his finger into, and it filled him with doubt.

You'd been to the trailer a few times. Seen all of his favorite places, tried all of his favorite foods. Listened patiently to his insecurities and issues. Still, you seemed to keep him at arms length, if he didn't even know what your apartment looked like; did you have posters on the walls or pictures of your family? What color was your couch? Or the towels in your bathroom?

He knew so much about you but did he really know you, and did you even want him to?

The door buzzed open and Eddie took the stairs up to your landing two at a time, all the while worrying and overthinking: You weren't expecting him and he was beginning to doubt that you even wanted him here in the first place. Sure, Mindy told him to go over...but was this taking it a step too far?

He started preparing an apology as he closed the final few distance to your door and it swung open--

"I'm sorry I fucked up, I didn't mean to break your trust. I'll do anything...anything...if you'll just forgive me. If you just give me another chance."

--and he saw the sorry state you were in.

Hair and clothes mussed, eyes bloodshot and puffy, a bundle of black fabric clenched tightly in your hands; the shine of tears and snot was accentuated by the incandescent lights in the hallway.

"Eddie," you whispered in a strained, broken voice, then you dropped the fabric to cross the threshold of your apartment and bury your face into his shirt. He panicked for a moment, arms held uselessly at his sides as your tears penetrated the worn fabric at his shoulder, but he quickly engulfed you in a hug.

"I'm sorry," you both spoke over one another, then you pulled back and stared him straight in the eye. "You're sorry? I'm sorry."

"No," you shook your head. "I'm sorry. I...I should have done better, I shouldn't have--"

"I crossed a line and I ruined our friendship and--"

You both continued talking over one another, each half-listening to what the other had to say as you got your own apologies out, until you both synced back up again.

"I fucked up and I'm sorry."

Your shoulders and chests heaved from the cacophony of emotion and a tense laugh was shared between the two of you. Then Eddie came to a realization.

"If you're sorry..." he frowned and let his eyes rake over you again. "If you thought that you hurt or scared me--which you didn't, by the way. It was...it was me, my mistake--why are you crying?"

You worried your lip for a second and a lone tear escaped your eye and trailed down your cheek; his hand immediately came up so he could thumb it away.

"Mindy told me you were sick," he muttered, taking advantage of the proximity to be a little gentler, a little smaller than he was used to being, so you could put your trust in him again. "What happened?"

"Uhm..." you croaked. "I'm not sick. I'm just taking a few sick days. Bereavement days...actually. Little leave of absence. Just through the end of the weekend."

The word was distantly familiar to him; the memories, though, would stay with him forever. Rick picking him up from school, a phone call from Wayne to his boss. An appointment for all three of them to get suits rented...and then some flowers ordered. Shiny shoes that he could see his teary-eyed reflection in.

He swallowed painfully and watched you do the same as you prepared your confession.

"My...uh...my grandpa died last night."

And before he knew it, it was 12 hours later. 12 hours that he spent relatively quietly.

He let you fill the silence; let you talk and cry, only opening his mouth to comfort you when the realization hit again and it got to be too much.

He helped you pack your bag for the trip back home. That was when your grief finally turned into anger.

Towards your family. Towards yourself.

"I feel like it's my fault," you sighed as you showed him how to find a pair of tights that didn’t have runs in them, whatever that meant. "I was the only one who took care of him. Doctor's appointments, took him on walks, made sure he didn't have the food he wasn't supposed to. The works. And I left. It's my fault he's gone. At least, that's the way Michael made it sound on the phone."

Eddie almost didn't catch the last part, said under your breath as you stuffed a shiny pair of shoes into your duffel bag, but he did. He wasn't going to let you do this to yourself; how many times over the years had he questioned how he might have been able to keep his mom from dying? On those days where he needed her most. He knew he couldn't stop you from those thoughts, at least not now but he could do his best to fight them away until you could do it yourself.

"Michael," he spoke up, startling you with the realization that he heard. "That's your brother right?"

"Older brother," you nodded slowly.

"Sounds like a shithead."

"Yeah," you let out the briefest laugh and then fiddled with the zipper tab. "He kind of is."

You complained about perfect Michael and his perfect life until your stomach rumbled and Eddie offered to order dinner for the two of you. When you mentioned that you hadn't eaten all day, he made sure you had more than your fill of beef lo mein and garlic string beans as Monty Hall played on the television.

At a certain point, your takeout carton made it to the coffee table and you started to doze off as your head rested on his shoulder. It was a relief, but only for a second, because you startled back awake and dumped all the clothes out of your bag again.

"I didn't pack the right dress," you muttered. "Aunt Amelia's gonna say something about it. I just know."

So Eddie stayed up with you all night as you packed and unpacked and packed again, uncaring that he had school in the morning or Hellfire that night. Fuck it all. It didn’t matter. None of the doubts and self-hatred and worry that had plagued him all week since Sunday night even crossed his mind. All that he worried about was making sure you weren't alone.

When dawn came, and you tiredly tried to wave him out of your apartment so that he could get ready for class and you could hit the road, he pulled you into his arms and just...held you.

He closed his eyes and rocked you back and forth as you hummed softly and gripped the back of his t-shirt tightly beneath his jacket.

He thought of all the things that he could say in that moment...

Drive safe, call me tonight so I know you got there, I'm sorry, take it easy on yourself, it's not your fault.

...but none of them were able to fall from his lips.

"Welp," you sighed. "This is it."

But neither of you moved.

"Thank you for coming over Eddie. I really really appreciate it."

Still nothing. No forward momentum, no motivation to move on to the rest of the day without one another, no reassuring words from him to give you the strength you needed to go forth alone, and no will for him to leave you.

You'd both be ready when you were ready, it seemed.

But as you finally pulled away from him, and he thought about you getting in your car and driving for what might be one of the toughest weekends of your life, all he managed to say...

"Why don't I come with you? I know it's not a road trip or fun or anything. I know I have school and work but...fuck it. We can stop at the trailer, I'll leave a note for Wayne and grab the nicest clothes I own, and...I'll come with you. I just...I don't want you doing this all alone."

...resulted in him sitting in the passenger's seat of your car for 5 hours as you zoomed down the highway away from his whole life in Indiana to the great unknown of Chicago.

---

You talked for a majority of the drive.

Eddie already knew some things about your family—strict parents, pesky brothers, too many cousins than he could keep track of—but you seemed to want to prepare him because he would effectively meet all of them.

"Big Catholic family and a funeral," you glanced at him from the corner of your eye and shot a tense smile. “It's a lot. You sure you still want to come?”

You’d done that throughout the drive too, asked him if he was sure he wanted to come with you. He’d joked several times already that you’d have to leave him on the side of the road, which you wouldn’t, or turn back altogether if he chickened out.

Besides, he already called Jeff when you stopped at his place to let him grab some clothes, and canceled Hellfire; he wouldn’t chicken out for anything. He needed to be here for you.

If he was being honest, yes he was nervous. He hadn’t met any girlfriends' families before or anything, and this whole situation wasn’t exactly the way he’d ever imagined meeting yours. As you crossed the state border into Illinois, though, your breath got shallow and your hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, and Eddie wondered if you were looking for a way out because you never wanted the two parts of your life—family and friends—to clash.

“I don’t, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I know I’m not someone that…families approve of or anything, if that's why you keep asking if I want to be here.”

"It's not that--" you tried to interject.

"And I know we're not dating or anything but..." he trailed off awkwardly and then cleared his throat.

Well that was one way of sticking his foot in his mouth.

Your head was half turned towards him, jaw dropped, eyes darting back and forth from the road to him.

The thought of opening the car door and bailing as you zoomed down the highway briefly crossed his mind because he fucked up. Why would he say something like that? It was because he was a big dingus, actually, the biggest.

"Uh, Eddie listen--"

"No," he interrupted you again. "Sweetheart I'm sorry, that's...that wasn't fair of me. I didn't mean...I just..."

"No it's ok, we should ta--"

"I just thought that...I know I pretty much intruded on this trip, but I wanted to be here for you. But if me being here is gonna cause more problems for you...I mean damn, I don't mind taking a Greyhound back to Hawkins even. But more than anything, I want to make sure you're alright."

He nervously picked at the loose threads on the holes at his knees and was surprised when you took a hand off the steering wheel and grabbed his.

"Do you know," you whispered, voice barely audible. "I think I would have turned back by now if I tried to come alone. Michael on the phone...god I don't know how my dad's gonna be...or my aunt. I don't want to have to deal with all of that. But I know I need to be there...it's for my Papa, I have to be there.

"It's hard to go home when you've moved someplace else. When you've started to find home somewhere else. And I wasn't gonna say anything. I wasn't gonna ask you--it's too much to ask--but I secretly kind of hoped that you would ask to come along. And I'll never be able to really thank you, Eddie, for wanting to be here. For me.

"But thank you," you shot him a smile and squeezed his hand tightly.

He swallowed thickly and squeezed right back.

"I'll be here for as long as you need me to be, sweetheart. As long as you want me to be."

---

The weekend was a whirlwind, and honestly, Eddie knew he wasn't going to be able to make heads or tails of it until the two of you got home on Sunday night.

The first surprise, shortly after your heartfelt moment in the car, was the fact that you didn't actually live in Chicago. You'd been approaching the city on I-90, you even pointed out the Sears Tower to him. Then you got on an exit and drove for another 20 minutes down North Avenue.

"I feel like I've been lied to," he sniffed petulantly.

"I told you I'm from the suburbs before," you chuckled at his antics. "And it might as well be Chicago, it's all Cook County."

"We're not even driving North, how is this North Avenue?"

"We don't have time for a history lesson, we'll be there soon."

Still, it was exciting. Not exactly what he pictured in his head from watching shows on TV or seeing news reels about the city, but nonetheless different from what he was used to in Hawkins and that was the part he liked.

At a certain point, you reached a stretch of road that featured certain destinations that would live in Eddie's imagination until he could ask you about them--KiddieLand Amusement Park, Riviera Lanes, and Winston Plaza--and Eddie noticed your hands started to shake.

"You ok? There's plenty of places to pull over," he suggested. "I can drive the rest of the way."

"No it's ok," you said and swung a left-hand turn onto a residential street with houses that sort-of all looked the same, sort-of all looked different. "We're here."

You parked on the street in front of a house that you noted belonged to your aunt, and then led him down a narrow sidewalk to the backyard of the neighboring house, where a kid gangly enough to rival Mike Wheeler sat in a plastic lawn chair with headphones on, arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes closed.

"Jimmy," you called to him and then kicked his foot. "Jimmy. James Joseph, wake up."

"I'm awake," he startled, knocked the headphones down so they sat around his neck, and stood up. Even with one hand rubbing his eye, your brother's resemblance to you was obvious, and a sense of dread washed over Eddie.

And so it began...meeting your family.

Jimmy was probably the best introduction of them all--there was an ease between the two of you, even with the snide jabs and banter back and forth--and that extended to Eddie. Especially when Jimmy realized that he and Eddie were wearing the same shirt.

"Don't let him fool you, he's a dweeb," you announced when Jimmy got excited over a shared love for Judas Priest, and Eddie hoped you meant your brother, but he couldn't be too sure you weren't referring to him.

There was a brief respite as you both rested for a minute, changed clothes, and ate a plate of some sort of casserole from the packed shelves of the avocado fridge in your grandpa's kitchen. Then it was an onslaught, a domino effect of faces and names that gradually got more important as you got back into the car to head towards the funeral home.

A sea of strange faces that smiled and hugged you and then looked over at Eddie in question, but not in an unwelcome way, and he was glad he'd pilfered a black scrunchie from your bag to tie his hair back respectfully.

You introduced him to this old coworker of your Papa and that great-aunt from Minneapolis and this cousin. He even got to meet your old store manager--a stern, short, blonde woman with victory rolls and shimmering black eyeshadow--who'd come to pay her respects after she saw your Papa's obituary in the newspaper; she honestly scared Eddie a little, but she made him laugh, which meant she was good in his book.

It was all reminiscent of meeting people after his mom died once upon a time, the only other funeral he'd ever been to. When people called and came out of the woodwork in an overwhelming number to offer their condolences. He had been young and sad then, but he was older, wiser, and tougher now. He shook hands and said "nice to meet you" and when people questioned whether he was a boyfriend, Eddie insisted he was just a friend who wanted to be here for you.

It wasn't a lie; still he got a skeptical gaze from at least two elderly women who tutted once they were out of earshot.

Eventually, you got to the front of the room, to the row of chairs that held your immediate family, and after a few tearful hugs, Eddie finally met your parents, your aunt and uncle, and your older brother.

He was surprised to hear "I've heard a lot about you" come from your mother's mouth, but was not surprised to hear the "no funny business under my roof" from your father after a clap on the shoulder. Your uncle said nothing after a short “hello”, just let your aunt do all the talking, and all she could talk about was your appearance.

"What are you doing, honey? What is this you're wearing? For Papa's wake? I hope you plan to wear something a little more modest for my father's funeral tomorrow. And your friend? A leather jacket? A little casual don't you think? What's that dear? Yes, nice to meet you too Edward. Thank you for coming."

Your brother Michael, though...Michael was a douchebag to put it in polite terms, and Eddie could tell that, unlike with Jimmy, the relationship between you was tense.

"You're late" he sniffed judgmentally instead of a greeting.

"We hit traffic and needed to change," you snarked right back.

"So you stopped off at home? Where's Jim? Why couldn't you get him here?"

"You know how he is at these things, he'll show up before they close up for the night. You remember how he was when Nana died. And now he's Mr. Tough Guy. He doesn't like to cry."

Back and forth the two of you went, Michael's accusations and your tense responses. Eddie could feel himself get more and more irritated the harsher it got, the angrier he felt you become. If it was anything other than a funeral--a wake, what was the difference--he would have started in on your brother several minutes ago to protect you.

And he was still tempted to.

But it was like a switch was flipped as someone else approached, and he watched as you changed right before his very eyes. As all the irritation and vulnerabilities left you, and in their place...was the Store Manager version of you he knew and sort of despised. Cold and stiff and everything he knew you weren't by the grace of becoming your friend.

Regardless, it was startling to see.

At the end of the night as Eddie settled into the second twin bed in what used to be Michael and Jimmy's shared room, Eddie realized that your customer service persona had been present for most of the evening, and had only slipped in the presence of those few family members that could see right past it.

Could they see past it? Or was it that you simply couldn't hide behind it with them?

For the whole time he'd known you, Eddie had often wondered what had driven you to Indiana. The job, sure, but...you'd left everything you'd known behind. And hell, for all the times that he wanted to get the hell out of Hawkins, he knew he couldn't leave Wayne or Rick for very long. In his heart he knew the day he finally left, he'd need to be back quite often to see them.

Now, though...when it came to you, he started to understand.

---

The next day, the day of the funeral, you couldn't stop shaking.

Eddie had been nervously second guessing the black jeans--the only non-ripped pair he owned--and Wayne's borrowed dress shirt when he saw you digging through your bag, trembling. It seemed like you were trying to hide it, kept your body moving and grabbing for something, but he noticed immediately,

He snatched the car keys out of your hands before you could get a solid grasp on them when it was time to go.

"It's alright," he reassured you. "Just tell me where I'm going and I'll get us there."

He thought it would be back to the funeral home, but instead you gave him directions to the church. A big old building with stained glass windows and a large statue of the Virgin Mary out in the front.

He could hear the organ music of the hymns emanating from within, and on the hour, the bells from the tower beside the chapel became deafening. For all the Catholic school girl jokes he made at your expense, he didn't realize you were Catholic Catholic.

"You sure I'm not gonna burst into flames if I set foot inside?" he joked to try and ease your nerves and his, but you just shook your head. He watched and suddenly felt helpless, as you began to shake more and worry your bottom lip with your teeth; he was supposed to be here to support you, to reassure you, and instead you looked ready to keel over. "Hey, it'll be ok."

"Yeah," you nodded tensely. "Yeah, let's just go inside."

You didn't make a move though, just rocked onto the toes of your shiny Mary Janes and looked on as tons of people filtered into the church.

Tons of people that, once again, reminded him of the people that had come to pay their respects for his mom. Eddie remembered being there, shaking in his shoes, trying to keep a straight-face, to be strong. To not be a baby because he was 10 years old.

It was just like you said about Jimmy the previous night; big tough guy, didn't want to cr--

Oh.

Realization hit Eddie. The culmination of all the other realizations that had been mounting over the past what? 48 hours? Maybe the past week? The two of you were more alike than he realized. Eddie had just noticed how you'd put up this strong front since you'd been home; the comfortable, safe Store Manager facade was starting to crack. Hadn't he just told you the story about his mom's funeral? How he'd fallen in love with metal because Rick had realized that he needed to process his grief? That he needed to lash out? To cry?

Here he was, trying to get you to laugh, when instead he should have been doing the opposite. But how was he gonna get you to cry? You didn't even cry much at the wake when you'd placed your hand on top of the shiny casket that held your Papa within.

Maybe it just hadn't hit you yet?

Alright, change of plans.

"Your Papa knew a lot of people," Eddie noted, gesturing towards the funeral-goers.

"He did," you agreed, and he watched as your shoulders lost the slightest bit of tension. "He was...I mean you met my cousin last night. The one who wants to run for Mayor."

"Yeah, he's got that yuppie thing about him."

"Well, my Papa could have been Mayor if he wanted," you said with the most conviction he'd ever heard in your voice. "He just didn't want to. Which means he deserved it even more. He was the nicest neighbor, the best friend. He went and played competitive Bocce at the civic center and fundraised for charity and canned his own peaches to give to people."

On and on, you talked about Papa's recipe for this and his idea for that and...

"And the way he fucking chain smoked god damn it Eddie," you hit his arm as he pulled his cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans.

Eddie thought that, at the very least, an emotional story would be the thing that would set you over the edge. Instead it was the pack of Marlboro Reds that he'd picked up when you had stopped for gas about halfway through the drive.

You hit his arm a few times, as you often did when you tried to playfully admonish him for this or that, then your face crumpled. Your shaking ceased as you collapsed against him and buried your face against his shoulder once again, just like you had when he first arrived at your apartment on Thursday night.

He dropped the cigarettes and folded his arms around you, pulled you into the safety of your friendship when it seemed like there wasn't anything safe out there for you right now; when you'd just lost one of the safe places you had in the world.

He whispered sweet words--comforts and reassurances--and he made you laugh once by threatening to punch your brother if he tried to make a scene.

"I'll do it," he goaded you. "I don't care if he's in mourning too. He's insufferable. Hate that guy. Never coming back to Chicago ever if he's still in town. You hear that? I might have to leave right now."

"No," you tugged him closer to you, and he reveled in the feeling. "You're staying right here. You promised."

"I did," he agreed.

The tense hold you had on him got looser and you hiccuped the last few tears you had.

A few yards away, a hearse pulled up to the curb in front of the church, and your brothers and several of your cousins went to start hauling the casket inside.

"You ready to go in?" Eddie asked. "You don't have to...but..."

"No," you shook your head and pulled back from him. "I'm ok. I'm ready."

"Good."

He waited for you to make the first move once again, but before you did, you took his hand in yours and squeezed.

"He would have been...so happy to have met you, Eddie," you looked at him earnestly. "I told him all about you. I think it hurts a little more...knowing that he didn't get the chance."

He squeezed your hand right back and smiled.

"I'm sad I didn't get the chance either. Guess I'm gonna have to work extra hard not to go to Hell so I can shake his hand in Heaven."

You snorted and pushed him away with a soft jackass then pulled him into the church with you saying he would have made the same joke.

---

The next morning, you and Eddie made a stealthy getaway.

Your father had tried to get you both to go to church with them again and you politely declined.

"We need to get on the road so we don't get back too late. I have to open tomorrow," you made the excuse.

Honestly Eddie was grateful; all the sitting and standing and kneeling...he hadn't gotten that much exercise since gym class Freshman year.

But as you soared back down North Avenue, you made a detour.

"I know this wasn't supposed to be a fun trip," you explained. "If you're up for it, we can make the drive back whenever...maybe during spring break or something? The least I can do before we head back to Hawkins, to thank you for coming, is give you a taste of good Chicago food. Especially after casseroles and funeral home sandwiches all weekend.

"It is Sunday, after all."

And that's how Eddie found himself having his first authentic Chicago style hot dog. Sitting on a picnic bench outside, under a red and yellow striped umbrella, the ambient sounds of cars zooming and your banter back and forth the perfect backdrop.

"No ketchup, are you kidding me right now Eddie?" you swatted his hand.

"Why do they have ketchup if they don't want it on the hot dog," he argued.

"It's for the fries and the fries only. You need to have the whole experience. A hot dog with everything, and ketchup on the fries only."

He watched as you unwrapped your hotdog and began picking through the toppings. Hypocrite.

"Wait, I thought you said you needed to have the whole experience, why are you taking the peppers off."

"I don't like the peppers."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Eddie scoffed. "Gonna have to take your Chicago Card away. Oh wait, I'm sorry. Suburb card."

"Oh my god, just eat. Before I leave you here."

He took his first bite and his tastebuds sang, as you munched on a French fry with a cheeky smile.

And Eddie was happy. Happy to be here with you. Sundays were his favorite days, hands down, and he would do everything in his power to keep them that way.

It might not have been the happiest weekend, there might still be some unanswered questions between the two of you. But you were here with him and you were still friends, and after everything that had happened, that's all Eddie could ask for.

Next Part: Closing Time

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #stranger things fic #Eddie munson #store manager verse

[percervall]

I'm not a woman (I'm a god)

Pairing: Toto Wolff x Horner!reader Words: 3194 Warnings: Greek Mythology AU, descriptions of misogyny and sexism, Christian Horner is painted the villain, implied age gap (both are legal adults), smut, masturbation, p in v, loss of virginity, no beta we die like my sanity during f1 silly season

In which you claim what's rightfully yours

---

As the meeting progresses, you can’t fight the urge to speak up any longer. Had you still been at RedBull, you would’ve; you would have bitten your tongue until it bled because your father didn’t much care for your opinions, as he called it, despite the fact you had spent years on getting your Masters and then spent another three years on studying all the strategy calls the team had ever made to see where things could improve. No, your father allowed you to sit in those meetings just so he could keep an eye on you. But you are no longer under his watchful eye and scrutiny; Toto Wolff made sure of that. Oh, people like to say that you were stolen from the RedBull garage, your father playing the role of victim like he was born to do so, but nothing could be farther from the truth. You weren’t stolen like the 2021 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix; no, you chose to be claimed by Mercedes and their team principal. Thus, here you are, part of Lewis’ team as a strategy engineer, about to do the one thing your father always reprimanded you for: speaking out against a figure of authority.

“Are you going to say what’s on your mind or do I have to make do with your facial expressions?” Toto drawls, making your decision for you. You can feel your heart beating against your ribs as nerves flutter in the hollow of your chest.

“With all due respect, sir,” you start, the room breaking out in a mocking chuckle but you will not let that deter you, “With all due respect, but this strategy will cost you points. You are all so sure that this race will lead to a safety car while experience tells us that the chances of that happening this weekend are 2% at most, and all safety cars deployed in the last six years have been due to car malfunctions. If you want to end up in the points, I would propose a two stop strategy, allocating at least two sets of mediums for the race on Sunday and forgoing softs all together seeing as how much they suffer from tyre deg at this circuit.” The room is dead silent when you finish. Toto’s eyes remain on you, his face a stoic mask.

“Check my numbers if you want,” you add, growing in your confidence the longer this staring contest continues. Toto looks at one of the other engineers, eyebrow raised with a silent command. You hear someone frantically typing as they run the numbers. Leaning back in your chair you take a sip of your coffee, willing your hands not to tremble despite how nervous you feel. Whispers of she’s right flitter around the room as more people join in with re-running your calculations. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling smugly at being proven right four times over. 

“Very well, Ms Halliwell,” Toto says, silencing the room once more. “We’ll try your set up with Lewis’ car and stick to what was already decided on by the senior members for George.” This is as much of a win as you are going to get right now, and you will gladly take it, but there’s a twinkle in Toto’s eyes that has your stomach in knots. You’re not sure whether it’s pride or awe; either way, it fills you with a feeling you can’t quite place yet you know you will crave it for weeks to come.  

When Sunday rolls around, you pray to whoever will listen that your numbers check out. You have gone over the statistics of this grand prix so often that you could probably recite them in your sleep at this point. Had it been any other race, you would have accepted whatever outcome, but this one means more. You need Mercedes to do well here in Austria, but more than anything you need your father’s team to suffer the consequences of their misogyny and ignorance. As you walk into the garage ahead of the race, your heels clicking against the cement, your eyes lock with Toto who gives you a slow smile as his eyes rake over you, taking in the way the stark white fabric of your team issued blouse and your tapered black trousers show off all your assets; you know you look delectable, and you know he knows it too. From the moment you met him for your job interview (which you landed under false pretences, using your mother’s name), there’s been an undercurrent of tension. It should’ve made you cautious, fearful even, of powerful men in powerful places, but Toto has been nothing but gracious, always indulging your retorts and meeting you tit for tat, a flirtatious game of cat and mouse that you’re enjoying immensely.

“I want you next to Bono during the race. You decided on the strategy, it’s only fair you get the recognition –whether it works or not,” Toto tells you. Nodding your head, you put on your headphones and take your place at the centre console. No more hiding in plain view, your father will see exactly what you are capable of –what you could have given him. Fighting the urge to chew the skin around your thumb, you keep your back straight and shoulders back as the race starts. You keep an eye on the weather satellite, scanning for any changes that could mess with the chosen strategy while listening to Lewis’ feedback for Bono, making suggestions for minute corrections to the set up of the car. Bono graciously forwards your ideas to the driver who slowly but surely climbs his way through the field. The RedBulls are still leading the pack, but you’re certain that your father’s confidence will be his downfall. As you had predicted, there is no need for a safety car during the race and, judging by the call to pit by your father’s golden child, they had been betting on one by using the softs at the start of the race.

“You were spot on with the tyre deg stats,” Bono tells you and you can’t help but smile wickedly back at him. There’s five laps left, and both RedBulls are on the hard tyre, which will never warm up in time to benefit from their longevity. George seems to be suffering a similar fate while Lewis is fighting with one of the McLarens for P2. Your eyes remain glued to the feed of Lewis’ on board camera as he begins the final lap. He is quickly gaining on the McLaren and in what can only be described as a masterclass, overtakes it to secure a P2 finish. Lewis’ radio message doesn’t even register; all you can hear is white noise as it dawns on you that you have shown everyone just what you’re capable of. It has whetted your appetite for more –for destruction. 

The team is celebrating a podium finish as if it’s a win, and you suppose to them it most definitely feels like one. You’re standing on the edge where the garage meets pit lane, watching them with a smile on your face when Toto comes to stand behind you.

“I want you front and centre when Lewis climbs that podium. You have earned this accolade and should be rewarded as such. Let your father see what he’s done,” he murmurs, voice low. It sends a shiver down your spine but you manage to nod in agreement.

“Good. Oh, and as part of your reward, I think we should celebrate accordingly in private, wouldn’t you agree? The choice is yours, take it or don’t. No hard feelings either way,” he adds, chest brushing against your back as he leans closer. Swallowing thickly, you nod once more, not trusting your voice as heat pools low in your belly at the insinuation. You can feel him slide something into your back pocket and you don’t have to check to know it’s the keycard to his hotel room. 

During the podium celebrations you stood front row, eyes steadfast on the podium with a smile so wide, your cheeks ached. You can only imagine the tales Crofty and Martin are spinning about you; no doubt making inferences about how distraught your father was to have his only daughter working for the rival. Let them spin their fairy tales, you had better things to get on with –or, more accurately, a better man. Sliding the key card into the lock, you enter the hotel room of your boss. Once you take this step, there’s no turning back, but you are willing to eat the proverbial pomegranate seeds. 

Toto turns around when he hears the lock click and you lean against the door. He looks incredible; sleeves of his shirt rolled up and a few of the top buttons are undone. 

“Wine?” he asks, picking up the bottle from the desk. 

“Yes, please,” you respond, accepting the glass he hands you. Toto smiles, and it’s so sly, bordering on debauched, that it has you squeezing your thighs together.

“Still some manners left in you. I wonder how long that will last,” he muses, raising his glass at you as he sits down on the edge of the bed. 

“They claim you have stolen me from RedBull, much like they claim Hades stole Persephone,” you say, straddling him before taking a sip of your wine. He can’t help but laugh when he sees the twinkle in your eyes, one of his large hands coming to rest on your hip.

“Oh, Meine Liebe, we both know you were not some prize that could be stolen. You saw the hell they created for you and thus you fled so you could set the world ablaze.” His use of a term of endearment is not lost on you, and you crave to hear more of it. 

“Stolen or not, I am here. What are you planning on doing to me?” you ask him, holding his gaze. 

“Oh, I plan on doing everything, darling. Every depraved fantasy you could think of and more,” Toto says as he puts his glass on the nightstand. You grow hot all over at his words. Despite your sharp wit –and even sharper tongue, if your father’s word is anything to go on–, you are about to enter previously uncharted waters. Of course you heard stories from your female friends while at University, devoured smutty book after smutty book, but actually doing any of it? Your father would dig himself a grave so he could roll in it if he ever knew what his little girl was about to do. The nervousness you felt earlier today is back in full swing as you try to find the words to tell him your biggest secret. 

“I-.. I’ve never done this before. I attended Oxford so I could live at home, remain under his watch,” you confess, not even able to say the words out loud. Toto studies your face, filling in the blanks with how your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. 

“No man has ever touched you?” You shake your head as you bite your lip. 

“Have you touched yourself, darling?” Toto asks and while he says nothing that could be construed as dirty, you gasp as if he has. Nodding your head, you can’t help but roll your hips against him, inadvertently grinding your pussy against the hardened bulge in his trousers. Toto swears under his breath, gaze darkening as he tightens his grip on you. 

“Will you show me, Liebling? Will you show me how you make yourself feel good?” 

Even if you wanted to, you’re not sure you could ever deny this man any request; not when he asks so caringly, as if your pleasure is the sole purpose of all of this. Breathlessly, you nod, letting Toto take your wine glass from you while you strip out of your work clothes. As you slide your blouse down your arms, you hear Toto groan as he takes in your figure clad in nothing more than your pale lilac bra and panties. It’s not the sexiest set you own, but it’s one of the few that doesn’t show through the white fabric. Before you lose your nerve, you climb back on the bed, eyes locked on Toto who leans against the footboard of the bed. He gives you a look, so openly full of desire that it makes your head spin and your pussy throb at being the object of his lust. Closing your eyes, you lean back into the pillows while your hand wanders. You can almost pretend you’re alone, your brain quickly supplying all the sordid fantasies you would never dare to say out loud. As your fingers inch under the elastic of your underwear, you can’t help but bite your lip as your hips writhe on the sheets. The tip of your pointer finger rubs against your clit and you gasp at the sensation, head thrown back. You’re already so sensitive, it won’t take much to send you over the edge. Applying the slightest bit more pressure, you begin to rub tight little circles, letting out the neediest whining noise.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” Toto groans. 

“Please,” you whisper, lifting your head so you can look at him. His legs are spread and he palms his bulge while he watches you pleasure yourself, and that sight alone sends your head spinning. 

“Let go for me, darling,” Toto orders gently, and who are you to disobey him? Your body arches, head thrown back as you come undone under his watchful eye. 

When you open your eyes, you can see movement to your right. Sitting up on your elbows, you watch how Toto strips down to his underwear, and walks into the ensuite. You can feel your cheeks heat up when you spot the foil packets and the bottle of lube in his hands. Toto drops them on the bed before climbing on. Hovering over you, he brushes a strand of your hair back behind your ears.

“I want this to be enjoyable for you. Please tell me when you feel uncomfortable, tell me when something makes you feel good.” You nod, breath caught in your lungs. Toto smiles so tenderly at you that it makes you forget about everything else. He moves his hand from your cheek, down your neck to your bra strap.

“Can I take this off, Liebling?” he asks quietly. You can only nod, too enthralled by him to form words.

“Need to hear you say it, darling. I will always need to hear you,” Toto murmurs.

“Yes,” you whisper, swallowing down your nerves about him seeing you naked. He gently unclasps your bra, moving the straps down your arms before pulling it away completely.

“Beautiful,” he says softly, his eyes taking you in and you fight the urge to cover yourself up. Toto’s hands caress your skin, as if he is trying to commit every line and curve to memory. You arch up into his touch as he cups your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple and it sets something alight in your core. Toto’s hands move lower, fingers curling around the elastic of your panties.

“What about these?” 

“Yes,” you reply quietly, lifting your hips to help him. He sits back on his knees, hands sliding down your thighs and his fingers are so close to where you’re aching for him, it makes you whine. Toto chuckles, moving his body over yours once more.

“You want it so bad, don’t you Liebling?” he murmurs in your ear, and the only reply you can form is a quiet uhu. He smiles against your skin, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw before moving away to fully strip. Biting your lip, you watch him tear open one of the foil packets and roll it down his hard cock. Anticipation and nerves flitter low in your stomach; he’s definitely bigger than the vibrator you have hidden away in the back of your closet.

“We’ll take it slow, okay? You decide how far we go, you’re in control,” Toto reassures you, moving closer so he can lean down to kiss you.

“Okay,” you whisper before his lips are on yours. Your fingers tangle in his hair while he drags his cock through your folds and over your clit. Toto moves his lips down your neck, kissing and sucking gently, sure to leave marks. Your body seems to have a mind of its own as your hips grind against him and you feel a desperation taking hold of you.

“Please,” you sigh.

“Tell me Liebling, what do you want?” Toto murmurs.

“Please.. Need you- need you in me,” you all but whimper, “Fill me Toto, please..” He groans against the skin of your neck at your request. Toto fumbles blindly for the lube and applies a generous amount to his cock and your pussy. Biting your lip, you lean up and watch as he slowly, so very slowly, sinks himself inside of you. The stretch has you panting and you feel how you clench around him. He holds you close, letting you adjust to the sensation of being filled completely. 

“Need you to move, Toto,” you moan, fingers clawing at his back. 

“Doing so good for me, darling. Taking me so well, fuck..” he groans against your skin as he sets a languid pace, and while it’s slow, his thrusts are so deep. 

“Ha-harder.. I can take it.. Please..” you whine, Toto eagerly complying with your demand. The only thing you’re able to do is cling to him as he keeps fucking you, whimpering every time he hits a spot inside of you that brings you just that teeny bit closer to the edge.

“Need you to cum, darling. Can you do that for me?” he asks as rubs his thumb over your clit. 

“Uhu,” you whisper meekly, unable to form a single coherent thought as you feel your orgasm approaching.

“Close.. Toto… Please.. Need.. Need to-..” 

“That’s it. God, you look so beautiful, just taking my cock like this. Come for me, darling.” And with that something snaps, your body arching as you feel your pussy clenching around him in waves. Toto keeps fucking you through it, chasing his own release, but you’re too far gone to pay attention. He keeps pressing kisses to your temple and hairline as he carefully pulls out, making sure the condom stays on. The loss has you whimpering.

“I know, I know,” Toto coos, “I’ll be right back. Did so good for me, so proud of you.” He gives you one last kiss before getting up to dispose of the condom and returns with a flannel to clean you up best he can. He throws it down by the side of the bed, and takes you in his arms. Your body feels completely boneless and you try to stifle a yawn. 

“Take a nap, Liebling. We’ll get properly cleaned up in a bit.” Nodding you allow sleep to pull you under as Toto whispers sweet nothings against your hair. 

written as part of @footballffbarbiex’s kink bingo challenge

It's not the 10k fic I joked about, but I finally managed to write the Greek Mythology AU I've been thinking about since early last year. Wanted to get this done and up before more information comes out during this delayed silly season, so if things feel rushed, it's because they are. This fic was heavily influenced by Bea Fitzgerald's Girl, Goddess, Queen; if you love retellings of Greek mythology, please check it out

Please let me know what you think; you comments, tags and likes mean the absolute world to me! 💜

#f1 fanfic #toto wolff smut #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #kink bingo challenge

[hp-hcs]

(he/him pronouns) would you be interested in writing a more dominant darling/a darling who's a top? i see so often where darlings are bottoms or submissive, but i think it be so interesting to see how delighted characters like enzo would be when his darling finally just responds to him and even takes the reigns. i think you write him as someone more subtle and less obvious in his use of force towards getting the darling to respond, so i think he'd be one of the most overjoyed if his darling was to react in a way he never expected (though it's very, very welcomed)

(i'm focusing more on enzo here since i find him most interesting, but if you'd like to include other characters, i wouldn't mind) nsfw or spicy-adjacent please! men who whimper are just exquisite and it is a need to spread this agenda. there's nothing to avoid here, throw in whatever you see fit: gore, alcohol, cursing, smoking, have your fun!

OHOHOHOOH HOLY SHIT YES

• smut • shut up — yandere! submissive! enzo berkshire x male! dominant! reader

he’s my little sweetie pie and/or bitch

warnings: dubcon—sexual acts performed under the influence of alcohol, amab anatomy for reader, oral sex (performed on reader), light/moderate yandere behaviors, dominant/submissive roles, pet names, degradation (not really) & praise

guess what! i actually wrote semi-okay (?) smut for once! and it’s actually kind of descriptive this time!

⛔️ smut ahead! MDNI! ⛔️

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Okay, it calls for…two sprigs of box elder next,” your project partner and general nuisance Enzo Berkshire read aloud from the Potions textbook. He dug through the sachet of ingredients and pulled out a cluster of leaves, holding them out to you and shooting you a winning smile. “I picked these for you, handsome.”

You looked up from where you were stirring the cauldron with a bored expression. “That’s poison ivy.”

Berkshire dropped the leaves with a startled sound, hastily wiping his fingers on his robes.

You just rolled your eyes and sighed. “Fucking dumbass.”

~~~

“Y/n!”

You turned around, startled. Enzo waved cheerily at you with that big dumb stupid grin on his big dumb stupid face.

“Berkshire, I mean this in the nicest way possible. How the fuck did you know where I was?”

“Oh, you always go to Hogsmeade at noon on Sundays!”

“Dude, why the fuck do you know that?”

~~~

“What the hell were you doing?”

You turned around at the demanding voice and insistent tugging on your sleeve.

Enzo Berkshire was glowering behind you, his arms crossed over his chest and a red solo cup in hand.

“Wh- oh, it’s you,” you rolled your eyes.

“Why are you talking to Nott?” The scent of alcohol was thick on his breath, although you weren’t really much better.

You scoffed. “Because I can?”

“Well, I don’t like it,” he sneered. “He’s a fuckboy. He’ll break your heart.”

“And? I can make my own decisions.”

“No you can’t!” He snapped, crowding further into your space. No one else at the crowded common room party even seemed to notice this mild squabble.

You opened your mouth to retort when he grabbed your sleeve again and stumbled down the hall to his dorm, dragging you along with him despite your halfhearted protests.

~~~

The door had barely clicked shut before you shoved him up against the wall.

He flinched back at the suddenness of your reaction, scrambling for anything to hold onto to regain his balance. “Wh-”

“Okay, I’m only going to say this once, so listen up,” your voice dropped to a deadly low tone and your grip on him tightened in warning. “Leave. Me. Alone.”

Enzo’s eyes widened and he whimpered.

You paused at the sound, an eyebrow quirking up.

“Did you seriously just fucking whimper?”

His cheeks turned bright red and he looked away.

You guided his gaze back toward yours with a firm hand on his jaw. “I asked you a question.”

Enzo swallowed nervously, his eyes darting around before he nodded slightly.

“Words.”

“Y-yes,” his voice cracked halfway through the word.

“Good boy,” you said sarcastically, releasing your grip on him and trying to ignore the way that your own cheeks flushed.

He whimpered again, his hands instinctively reaching out for you as you moved away. “No, wait-”

That did it for you. The combination of teenage stupidity, alcohol, and the little noises he made created a Molotov cocktail of lowered inhibitions.

Kaboom.

Without thinking, you cut him off with a searing kiss and shoved him back against the wall again.

He whined softly, his hands pawing frantically at your chest and trying to drag you closer by the tight grip he had on your shirt.

You smacked his hands away, pinning them up against the wall with a tight grip on his wrists.

You split apart, both breathing heavily. His cheeks were flushed a bright red and he looked quite startled—either by your reaction or his own, you couldn’t quite tell.

“Uh-” Enzo cleared his throat, trying desperately to regain control of the situation. “S-so you do like me! I knew it!”

You rolled your eyes, your hands releasing their grip on his wrists and wandering down to his hips. “Shut up.”

He grinned cheekily, his eyes narrowing in a (poor) attempt at seduction. “Oh yeah? Tell me, would I be coming off too strong if I asked you to get on your knees for me, darlin’?”

You snickered.

His over-confident smirk faltered at the sound.

“Oh no…darlin’.” you grinned shrewdly, drawing your hands back. “I don’t get on my knees for anyone.”

You punctuated your point with two heavy hands on his shoulders, firmly guiding him downwards.

Enzo made a startled noise and went down surprisingly easily. He kneeled down at your feet without a second thought and rested his hands on your thighs, looking up at you with blown wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

You petted the top of his head, running your fingers through his hair in a patronizing way—like he was nothing more than a dog.

“What, not much of a big-talker now?”

He gulped.

You caressed Enzo’s cheek, running your thumb along his cheekbone. “Go on, pup. Why don’t you make me feel good, hm?”

You could physically see his pupils dilate at the nickname. His hands scrambled to unfasten the button of your trousers, yanking them down mid-thigh.

You drew in a sharp breath, caught off guard by his enthusiasm.

Enzo wasted no time in wrapping his fingers around the base of your dick. He licked a long stripe up it, promptly wrapping his mouth around it and looking up at you with heavy-lidded eyes and fluttering lashes.

“Shit- fuck- so fuckin’ good, babe. S-so good for me,” you gasped, carding your fingers through his hair.

He moaned softly around you at the praise, the vibrations from which sent sparks dancing up your spine.

“Merlin- darlin’, y-you-” your free hand shot forward to grip onto the wall behind him, keeping you steady as your legs shook.

Invigorated by the obvious effect he was having on you, Enzo redoubled his efforts to bring you to your breaking point.

It didn’t take long.

With only your hand tightening in his hair as a warning, your orgasm hit you like a truck. You could’ve sworn your vision went white for a second.

As soon as you regained your bearings, you yanked him up by the front of his shirt and immediately kissed him with a “good boy” mumbled against his lips. His hips bucked frantically against your hip and he let out a pleading whine.

You shushed him softly with a kiss pressed against the base of his throat, your fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt.

Your hand dove into his trousers the second you got the button undone, your fingers wrapping around his dick with no further preamble.

Enzo whined, tucking his face into the crook of your neck and holding onto your shoulders with trembling fingers.

“Oh? Is all this for me, pup?” You teased softly, your hand beginning to move in a fast but steady rhythm.

At his sweet and quiet moan, you kissed the spot where his jaw curved behind his ear.

He full on whimpered yet again.

Yeah, he wasn’t going to last long.

His fingers began to dig into your shoulders as he clung to you for support. “Y/- oh, Y/n- I’m gonna-”

“Go ahead, sweetheart.”

His body shook and quivered under your touch as he fell apart with a high pitched whine. He clung onto your shoulders as his legs threatened to give out from underneath him.

You quickly grabbed onto his waist to steady him, his breath coming out in short pants.

“You’re okay, you’re alright. Deep breath…that’s it, good boy,” you mumbled reassuringly, tracing a random pattern with your fingers into his hip.

He huffed out a laugh as his breathing slowly returned to normal. “Aww, look at you being all sweet and cute. Big tough guy with a heart of gold.”

“I see you’re still an ass, Berkshire.”

“I get the feeling you love my ass, L/n.”

“…shut up.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

smut tag list — join by request ONLY

@jaythes1mp @slytherinboysappreciation

#harry potter #hp #fuck jkr #hp x male reader #x male reader #x reader #enzo berkshire smut #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #yandere enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire smut #lorenzo berkshire #hp smut #slytherin boys #slytherin boys smut #amab reader

[nqmonarch]

Good Boy/Girl [Pt 2]

Okay another post about like Good Boy/Girl because like. Some characters I just simp for. Last one was I want to make you extremely happy so I'll say it because I love you this one is when that one character that really flusters you says it.

Characters: Ningguang (Genshin Impact), Sunday (Honkai Star Rail)

Ningguang

Ningguang is always so busy, tirelessly working away, sometimes you have to remind her to take a break. When walking alongside her in the city of Liyue it's no surprise heads are turned and staring right at you.

More accurately, they're staring at her. If not for her fame as the Tianquan, then her beauty, the way her eyes pierce through every object and price she sees while shopping, calculating but not cold. The clothes she wears cling to her figure perfectly, they make her stick out but aren't gaudy. She is a God among mortals. You can't help but feel self conscious around her.

Your shoulders shift inward, and your back naturally slouches, hoping to appear as small as possible next to this colossal. You'd voice your worries to her before--

"What if people think I'm unfit for you? You can do better," Your voice lacked any confidence it normally had when you'd first met the Tianquan and flirted shamelessly with her, expecting to never be given a second glance.

"Does it matter? It is my decision if you stand by my side, and yours too," She replied confidently but her eyes gazed down at you full of warmth, a hand reaching out to your shoulder to hold it. An anchor, whenever your thoughts spiraled too deep that hand would be there.

You looked back at her, still worried, but moved your hand up to rest on top of hers. It was rather uncomfortable for you, and at the slightest change of your expression she moved her hand down to your heart. Your hand followed hers. A conversation with no words.

She smiled down at you, "Good Y/N."

You relaxed at the term of endearment, feeling your hand rest against hers which lay motionless on your chest. You looked up into her eyes, but you couldn't see any of Ningguang the Tianquan, you simply saw Ningguang, your lover.

-- "Y/N, what do you think of this necklace?" She suddenly asked you, pointing out one with a large gem in the middle. It was alright. You reached your hand out to hers.

"It's nice," You admitted, feeling your fingers interlace even through the gloves you could still feel the warmth, "It's not as beautiful as you though."

She let out a charming laugh, "Good Y/N."

Sunday (I love this man I can't wait until he comes out. Personality is going mainly based off of leaks.)

Sunday was lovely, everything you could want from an ideal partner. He was kind, caring, the epitome of perfection. Except he wasn't. You were one of the people that knew him best. Beneath everything he showed the public was a selfish creature.

"Y/N?" His voice was sweet, like an angels and you could trick yourself into thinking he was one if you tried hard enough.

You looked over at him wings fluttering from behind his head, normally calm and collected eyes holding a sense of anxiety. It was a stark difference from the Sunday you first met. Just that look of weakness on him made you want to forgive him.

You took your time with a pause, "What is it?"

You could see him struggling to form the words, shifting around uncomfortably. It wasn't often he had to speak like this to others, normally he would be the mediator, the diplomat, the leader-- not the problem.

"I'm sorry." It was only two words that were needed to soften your heart. You let out a long sigh, telling yourself to not let him off the hook just yet.

"For what?"

"It's just, there was an emergency meeting all of The Family was needed--"

Of course, that was his first reaction, Sunday was much to use to manipulating others. So, even when it no longer gave him pleasure or happiness, he'd default to it in a panic, "Save your excuses for later, tell me what you did first," You said sternly, "You told me to hold you accountable for the next time this happened."

He looked away from you for a moment, "I... I did tell you that, yes." His hands fiddled in his lap and you wished to take those gloves off and lay kisses on every knuckle. "I'm sorry for..." He closed his eyes tightly, as if he didn't want to see what would happen next.

Sunday took a deep inhale and then almost yelled out, "I'm sorry for shoving you off the bed in the middle of the night! I didn't mean to."

You let out a small laugh and walked over, sitting down next to him, "I know. I don't know why you even made me do this," You said sheepishly, looking down at his knees, "It's impossible to not forgive you when you make that face."

"This one?" He asked, and as your eyes moved up you were met with puppy eyes. In order to escape them you practically dove into his arms, holding onto him tightly, and burying your face into his chest.

"I hate that you're able to do that on command," You grumbled, it made you feel weak.

You could hear the smile in his voice, "Thank you, for holding me accountable though."

"It's dumb."

"Interrupting my darling's sleep is anything but dumb!" He quickly interjected, "I deserve to--"

You leaned up and silenced your mouth was his, moving fast enough to cut him off but moving away quickly, not wanting anything to escalate. The warmth of his lips followed you and you could still see them after he was silenced.

"You deserve love." You rested your head on his shoulder looking out the window at all of the city below you. One of his wings poked your cheek and you leaned into the plumage.

"I don't deserve you." His words were quiet but mattered nonetheless.

You turned to face him, and found his face turned to face yours putting the two of you nose to nose, breaths intermingled. "You deserve the world," You replied.

He flushed under your words, and you got the satisfaction of seeing his skin blossom with color. "You're so good to me... Good Y/N." He rested his face in your neck. You thought it would've been uncomfortable for him since your chin still rested on his shoulder but he didn't show any sign of discomfort.

"My Good Y/N," He said voice soft as his wings, and closed his eyes.

I just want someone to love who will love me, is that too much to ask?

Also question, for nonbinary folks and other people that like going by they/them what do you think is a good gender neutral term for good girl/boy? I went with good (name), here since I feel like that's chill but if you can think of anything else I'd be happy to hear it! :)

#hsr x reader #sunday #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #ningguang #ningguang x reader #genshin impact #reader insert #gn reader #hsr

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ TWO AGAINST ONE: PORTGAS D. ACE

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Ace makes the mistake of eating one of your pregnant husband's sweets, you, now he needs to somehow earn her forgiveness. However, it seems that in this dispute, your son has already chosen who his favorite father will be."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : TRANS MALE READER, FTM READER, TRANS MASC READER, PREGNANT MALE READER, MEN PREGNANT, BIOLOGICAL PREGNANCY, GAY RELATIONSHIP, Reader is a little dramatic, pregnancy dramas, unnamed baby but is a boy, Ace and you are married, Ace is a golden retriever and you're mean to him (just a little), Ace is a perfect dad and husband

꒰ WC ꒱ : 917

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : Wow, more babies! Hahah who would have thought... Okay I wanted to say that it's the last baby story but it's not, At least next time I'll try to post another topic or you'd start to think I'm weird. The post was supposed to be yesterday and it was also supposed to be a late ask, but the ask is 7k words long and I'm having a serious problem translating it, so I'm going to post this other story today so I can have more time, enjoy!

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"Love, honey, my husband, my man, my sweet, forgive me." Your husband, Ace, whimpered beside you as you lay on the reclining sofa, covered in pillows and with a soft blanket over your huge belly. You had an irritated expression and crossed arms, purposely ignoring him and pretending to pay attention to the television.

"I'm not talking to you," you snorted irritably, and if your feet weren't swollen and your legs weren't aching, you would have kicked his ass out of the house.

"I swear, I didn't know it was your chocolate! I thought it was mine... I'm sorry, my love," he was kneeling on the sofa next to you, his hands clasped together begging for forgiveness, and his puppy eyes were so sad that anyone would have accepted his apologies.

Anyone, except you. No, no, you were a pregnant man dealing with a very active baby and hormones so out of whack that you seemed like a ticking time bomb. You definitely wouldn't forgive your husband for eating the last of your chocolate stash. Especially because it was Sunday! The store that sold your favorite, expensive, artisanal chocolate only opened on Tuesdays. You would have to go two days without your chocolate because of your husband's stupidity in not checking who the chocolate belonged to before swallowing it!

Okay, you weren't exactly craving chocolate in the past few days, and that one had been stored for a long time... But that doesn't change the fact that he shouldn't have eaten it!

"I swear I'll buy the whole store for you to forgive me! Please, don't pout at me like that," he whined again as he lovingly rubbed your arm. Ace hated hurting you, no matter how small the reason. Now that you were pregnant, he tried his best to make you live in paradise, as he was extremely worried when he found out that stress could cause serious complications in pregnancy. Although Marco and Law tried to explain that it had to be an absurd amount of stress, he practically didn't listen and accepted as an absolute truth that even the smallest amount of stress was a deadly risk for you and the baby!

"I hate you," you murmured irritably, and your frustrated pout grew. You didn't like arguing with Ace and usually didn't care so much about something like this, but those damn hormones made you go crazy. One moment you were crying, and the next you were trying to set the house on fire with Ace inside. Then, you would go back to normal as if everything were fine. You could only think that this was Ace's punishment for taking so long to propose to you.

"What can I do to make you forgive me, my king?" he sighed and sat closer to you, kissing your arm and then trying to kiss your cheek, which resulted in you moving away. "You're breaking your poor husband's heart."

"I'll ask for a divorce if you keep annoying me," you said, trying to stay strong, although you were almost giving up on arguing and just getting lost in Ace's warm embrace.

"Ouch... So cruel," he whimpered and carefully laid on your belly, then gently stroked it, giving kisses on the shirt you were wearing. "Come on, little guy, help your old man make peace with your daddy. He'll put me to sleep on the couch if he stays like this," he whimpered, trying to get help from his unborn child.

Before you could reprimand Ace again, a kick was felt by both of you... Your baby had just kicked exactly where Ace's head was, making him startle and jump from the slight blow he received, causing both of you to widen your eyes in shock.

"Our son just kicked me?" he asked, confused and incredulous about the situation.

"Humph, looks like it's two against one now," you smiled triumphantly as you caressed your belly. "Our son is smart, he knows that this daddy here is the only one whose right," you continued teasing Ace, already feeling your mood improve and the anger dissipating.

"This is unfair! The two men in my life are ganging up against me!" he crossed his arms with a pouting expression.

"Think twice before eating my sweets next time," you shrugged. "You heard the baby, today Daddy Ace sleeps on the couch," you laughed, feeling some gentle kicks from your baby, as if he really agreed with you.

"This little rascal will have to deal with me when he's born... Stealing my husband, I was here before you," he muttered childishly as he glared at your belly. "And you, mister grumpy husband, I'm going to squeeze and kiss you until you're forced to forgive me! And if you try to kick me out of our room, I'll cry at the door like a stray dog," Ace made his threat, and before you could disagree, he threw himself on top of you, covering your face with kisses as he hugged you tightly. All you could do was laugh, feeling ticklish from his kisses. You didn't usually get mad at your husband so often, but if it meant having him as a repentant little puppy trying to win your forgiveness through affection and love... Maybe you would start getting mad more often, especially if your son would help you.

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#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #one piece imagine #anime imagines #imagines #one piece x masc reader #one piece x male reader #one piece x trans male reader #one piece x transmasc reader #one piece x trans reader #one piece x pregnant reader #x pregnant ftm reader #x male reader #x transmasc reader #x trans male reader #portgas ace x you #ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader