#I opened the package after work today | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onlyswan · 3 months

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summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.

idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe

> in which masterlist!

note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼

—

“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.

the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.

you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.

however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.

if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.

“good morning!”

“oh! wait there for a moment!”

jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.

upon your return, his face lights up again.

“here you go!”

he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.

“w-why are you-?”

you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”

“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”

your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?

“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.

a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…

“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”

oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.

“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”

“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”

“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”

“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”

“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”

“i told you— it’s my rest day.”

“you did?”

“while we were texting last night.”

“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”

“you? what are you doing today?”

you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?

“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”

jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”

you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.

“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”

“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”

“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”

your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.

he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?

his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.

“well, now i know.”

—

jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.

a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.

he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.

“are you wearing toe socks?”

“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”

“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.

“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”

“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”

“yeah, you should!”

he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.

“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”

you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.

he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?

“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”

“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”

“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”

“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”

“but it’s embarrassing…”

it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.

“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.

kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…

this is an entirely different world through your lens.

it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.

“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”

he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.

“not because they’re nutritious?”

“that’s the bonus!”

“what is this?”

“cranberry juice.”

“and this?”

“oyster sauce.”

you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.

“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”

“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”

“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”

“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”

“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”

you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.

“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”

and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.

—

the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.

“you never give up, do you?”

“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”

“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.

“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”

you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.

“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”

“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”

the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.

“what’s my height then?”

“aren’t you six feet?”

the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.

“yes, you’re ri-”

“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.

and he winces, guilty as charged.

“you hesitated!”

“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”

“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”

you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.

he calls out your name.

“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.

“want to hear a fact about me?”

you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”

“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”

“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”

at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.

“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”

“what’s your ideal type?”

being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.

“why do you want to know that?”

you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.

“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”

“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”

his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.

“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”

and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.

“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”

because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.

“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”

“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”

every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.

“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”

“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.

you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”

“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“but i want to hear you say it.”

“you’re very beautiful, ____.”

“but that’s not-”

“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”

he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.

you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.

—

the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.

beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.

another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.

“hi!”

“hi.”

“what are your plans for the holidays?”

“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”

the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.

jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.

the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.

“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”

you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.

“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”

“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”

he nods in confirmation.

the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.

“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”

and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.

“i’ll watch you too!”

he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.

“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”

“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.

“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”

“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”

his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.

he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”

you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.

“this is tough love!”

jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”

you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”

jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.

“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”

“what are you talking about?!”

oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.

“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”

“maybe you got a bad batch!”

—

“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.

your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.

“shit, how heavy is this?”

you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.

“i’ll come with you!”

“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”

it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.

“let’s go.”

jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.

“this thing is bigger than you.”

an extremely obvious exaggeration.

“i’ll be the one to carry it.“

—

jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.

when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?

“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”

“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”

“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”

“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”

“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”

“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”

“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”

a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.

“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”

“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”

“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”

“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“i’m serious!”

“i don’t think i believe you, though…”

“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.

‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’

“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”

“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.

“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.

“we can’t…”

the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”

your lips form a pout.

“my panties…”

you bring a finger to point at the basket.

“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”

“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”

why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!

“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”

his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.

yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.

“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”

“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”

you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.

“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”

—

“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”

the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.

“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”

“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”

he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”

“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”

“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.

“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”

his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.

“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”

your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.

a wish…?

what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?

“did you do it?”

you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.

“what did you wish for?”

“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”

—

jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.

“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”

you gaze switches from him to the living room.

the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.

you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?

it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.

the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.

this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.

—

after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.

once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.

heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.

with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.

—

“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.

you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.

and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.

“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”

you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”

he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.

tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.

you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.

“jungkook?”

“yes?”

“are you cold?”

“freezing.”

you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”

—

the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.

“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.

a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.

he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.

the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.

guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well

and you looked so cool on stage ☺️

merry christmas jungkook ❤️

“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”

seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.

“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”

“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”

“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.

he allows a moment of silence.

his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.

“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”

Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|

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taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Note

Joel/Reader, Just the tip

Maybe reader is a virgin/kind of innocent, and Joel is in some position of power over her.

Joel keeps begging to fuck her and finally convinces her to let him out just the tip in, but of course, once that’s in, he wants more :)

Just the Tip

1.4k | Joel x innocent!F!Reader | master list

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+, high-pressure, power imbalance dubcon, unsafe PIV, no outbreak, AU where he gets very successful at contracting. Sequel HERE.

The first time Joel Miller touched you, it was after you finished cleaning his house. You'd walked in on him in a towel the week before, and when you apologized and tried to leave that room, he insisted it was fine. You’d seen him swim naked in his pool too, when he knew full well you were cleaning the kitchen with an excellent view through his huge windows. When he asked you to stay for a drink one night, you resisted, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you joined him in his living room. He was in a high-back leather chair. You sat on the chaise at his urging, crossing your ankles modestly, shyly looking away while his devious eyes ate you alive.

He beckoned you with his hand on his lap and said, "C'mere, sugar," before finishing off his drink and putting it down. You lowered your head shyly and laughed it off as a joke, but you knew it wasn't. He never tried to hide how hungrily he looked at you. Knowing Mr. Miller thought of you that way secretly made you wet. You thought about him in your most private moments. He was a very attractive man.

"C'mere just a minute," he said, softer. You shyly obliged. He buried his face in your neck and inhaled deeply.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered into your hair. He kissed the nape of your neck then wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you all the way into him. You let out a little gasp as the hardness in his pants pressed into your hip. His large hand slowly crept up your thigh, under your dress, and you stopped him. He looked at you almost bemused.

"Okay," he smiled.

"It's just that, no one's ever."

He smiled kindly. He asked if you wanted him to. You said "Not today." You weren’t sure why you chose those words.

"Not today," he agreed, and smoothed your dress back down.

As time went on, he worked his way into your panties. First, you let him rub you over your stockings, then you let him take your stockings off and slip a finger in your panties. One day he put your hand on his package and the way you blushed made him swell even harder. He took it out and helped you jerk him off, and his face when he came made your knees weak.

Another day, he had you straddle him with your naked loins together, his hard cock gliding against your hot, dripping seam. He watched your mouth fall open, then covered it with his, kissing you for the first time as he gently rocked you into him. Your cheeks burned and you were more aroused than ever before. He gave you an orgasm – your first from another person– rubbing you against his cock then finishing you off with his fingers.

He always wanted more. The next time, he laid you down on the chaise, hovered over you, grinded himself into you, occasionally dipping his head for a kiss. Then he gave you head and your moan echoed off his high ceilings as you came. Then, he coaxed you into putting your lips around his cock and you let him fuck your face.

Soon, he told you how good it would feel having him inside you. Your body was already sure of this fact, but you resisted. He didn't exactly get aggressive, but he asked you every day. He was determined to convince you. He started denying you orgasms, nearly making you cry. He'd say, "just an inch, see how it feels, if you don't like it I swear I'll never ask you again."

The tip of his cock was not insignificant. About the size of a persian lime. Plus, it wasn't a matter of whether you'd like it. You wanted your first time to be with someone who loved you.

But Joel persisted.

Eventually, on a dark day with sheets of rain flowing down his floor-to-ceiling windows, after he edged you to death with his mouth, you finally agreed – just the tip.

"Just this, okay?" He thumbed the weeping head of his cock.

He laid you back on the chaise, knelt over you, then rested his forearm under your arm. He lined himself up, dragged the swollen head up and down your folds and clit, then nestled it at your dripping entrance.

"How's that feel? Feel okay?" he asked

You nodded.

"Ready?"

It was such a big moment, you were on the verge of tears. You really weren’t sure, but you nodded, almost imperceptibly.

He bit his lip and inhaled deeply through his nose as he pushed just barely inside, about half the tip, and you winced with a soft moan.

"Still good?"

You nodded.

He clenched his jaw and swallowed, then came the rest of his tip, and you groaned as his girth stretched you like you’d never felt before.

"Oh, fuck," he exhaled. "God you're fuckin' tight." He breathed deeply. "That feel good?"

"Yeah," you said.

"Good. good girl. you're doing great, baby." He thumbed your clit, rewarding your compliance.

You arched your back.

"You want a little more?"

"Not today," you said. You had already made yourself a promise.

"You sure? Not just a little?" He rocked forward ever so slightly pushing a centimeter further, then retreating back to just the tip with a ragged exhale. His face looked physically pained.

"Jesus, fuck," he sighed. He stopped working your clit. "Tip's the biggest part, baby. You can take that, You can take it all."

"I dunno," you hesitated.

"Just a little more, baby, you’re doin’ so good" he begged, the vein on his neck bulging. If his face was any indication, it was a herculean feat not to shove all of himself inside you. His hair began to stick wetly to his forehead.

He very slowly started thumbing your clit again and you moaned. Something blossomed open inside you and you yearned to be filled more.

He turned on his side a little and his large hand lifted your top leg over his, turning you toward him. You faced each other, his tip still inside you. There was more contiguity between your bodies this way. He kissed you passionately, kneaded your breast, and the tip of his cock twitched inside you, creeping just a tad bit further.

He broke the kiss to look deep in your eyes and whisper, "Come on, baby, it'll feel so good. We'll do it slow, real slow."

You thought about it over a long silence, and he was so convincing, you couldn’t come up with a reason enough not to. It didn’t occur to you that you didn’t need a reason. You eventually asked, "really slow?"

His face lit up. "As slow as you want."

"Okay."

He kissed you so hard when you said that.

"Gotta tell me when you want more, sugar"

You nodded "a little more."

He groaned and proceeded just a little further, squeezing a moan out of you.

"Ok, baby, how's it feel, you ok?"

The loud wash of the heavy rain comforted you.

"Yeah," you nodded.

"More," you said. He was shaking, biting his lip, squeezing his brows together as he tried to restrain himself, pushing just a little more.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so tight.”

Then, you said, "all of it."

"You sure baby?"

You nodded "I want it all."

You didn't have to ask him again. He retreated slightly, then plunged his whole length into you, parting your insides with a shudder and a groan, filling you to the brim with his thick, hard cock, a look on his face you'd never seen anywhere before. He stayed inside perfectly still for a few seconds and moaned softly. He kissed your throat, then put his forehead on yours.

"You good baby?"

"Yeah," you nodded.

He pulled back, then filled you up again, and said, "fuck, baby you feel so good."

He buried himself in you a few more times, each thrust feeling so much bettr than the last. It wasn't long before he said "oh, fuck, I'm gonna come.” He pulled out, spilling his hot seed all over your pussy and mound.

He finished you off orally, licking his own spend from your folds, and then held you close and caressed you tenderly, telling you how good you did.

You were a little sore that week, but you felt more empty than sore. After just that one time, you began to feel incomplete without him inside you.

If you like this one, here are my other similar stories:

JUST THE TIP 2

Night Talks (best friend's dad, getting high) - night talks

Left in Lincoln (series) - lincoln master list

Silence can never be bought isn't loss of virginity but it takes them forever to have sex.

Anyone want some lore?

I have a dbf!Joel story. Part 2 of it introduces: The same house -- incl. floor to ceiling windows with a view of the pool. Same cock lmao (prominent tip). And Joel implies he's fucked at least one of his maids in the past. So this just-the-tip Joel could be that dbf!Joel like 5-10 years prior.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #ask box

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luveline · 2 days

Note

i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's just miserable that no one remembered his birthday at work but when he gets home his roommate just welcomes him with the most thoughtful gift and a warm hug PLEASE

thank you for requesting! <3 fem!reader

The lights are off. The air conditioning blows a shade too cold. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and acknowledges that, despite his awful, aching day, it’s nice to be home.

The living room is clean where it hadn’t been this morning when he left. If he had to clean it by himself, he’d die. It must’ve taken a good hour or longer, even the floor shines sparkling clean.

“Hey?” he asks into the open air, wondering where you are.

“Spencer!” you yelp from the kitchen, “Hey, what took you so long? It’s almost seven!”

He sighs to himself with a great dash of self-pity. “I know. Had to stay and finish something. You cleaned?”

“I had to! Quick, come in here, I need your help with something.”

He doesn’t want to help, he wants to lay down in bed. Spencer wonders how a normal person, a normal boy, would feel after a day like today. He wonders if Morgan would go home and lay in bed and cry. He wonders if it could ever be possible for everyone to forget Morgan’s birthday.

Spencer hangs his jacket on the rack and puts his bag by the shoes. He’s tempted to go to bed and pretend he hasn’t heard you, but he supposes he shouldn’t. He’d sort of been hoping you’d text him happy birthday, and but that never happened. He doesn’t think anybody in the world besides his mom knows what day it is today, and Spencer had to remind her, so.

“Spence,” you say, your smile of a calibre he’s never witnessed, standing in front of the kitchen island with your hands behind your back, “I hope you know I’ve been waiting two whole hours for you to get back. Actually, I’ve been waiting all day, but you can’t be blamed for working. Okay. Are you ready?”

“Am I ready? What did you want help with?”

You step to the side, grinning, the sleeves of your nice blouse like big, soft petals around your wrists and against your thighs. “Tada!” you say, guiding his attention to the silver platter on the countertop, a chocolate cake at centre stage and stuck with candles, flames aglow. “I rushed to light them when I heard the door,” you tell him, and he can hear your breathlessness now, your excitement for him evident. “A lot of candles, you’re getting old! Too old for chocolate sprinkle. I should’ve got you something sophisticated.”

“You got me a cake?”

“It’s your birthday,” you say happily. “Happy birthday, Spencer. I got you some presents, too, but the cake is the best, it’s from the Leaven. How fancy is that?”

“Will you sing?” he asks.

He doesn’t know why he asks. He’s mostly kidding, but you smile shyly and beckon him toward you. “I’ll sing. Come stand over here.”

You sing him happy birthday, and he blows out his candles, only ten candles altogether but enough to feel like a kid as the heat kisses his chin.

“Okay, and I got you this,” you say, finally pulling both hands from behind your back, seemingly eager to move the focus from your performance.

It’s a bundle about as thick as an average novel. He knows it’ll be books before he opens it, because you know him, and it’s in your nature to give him your everything.

He doesn’t look at them. He takes the package blindly and shoves it onto the counter, wrapping you in a hug so hard it makes your back click. “I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t let go. You don’t make him. “Sorry, I just– I–” You’re the only one who remembered. “Thank you for the cake.”

You hug him not quite as hard, but tight. “Hey, it’s okay. I love you, you’re my best friend ever, you can pop me like a roll of dough any day of the week.” You might be exaggerating. Spencer doesn’t know. “But especially today, you know. You can have anything you want.”

Spencer should let go. Anything you want, you’d said. He hugs you until he’s sure you’re sick of him, your thumb pressing little circles into his shoulder, his arms tucked up under your armpits and around your back. “Thanks,” you murmur.

“What?” he asks. “For what?”

“For such a good hug. And being a great roommate. And for not complaining about the candles.”

“The candles are perfect.”

You lean back in his arms. “Thank you. Now what do you want first, cake or dinner?”

Spencer really wants another hug. “Um. Cake?”

“Good choice, handsome.”

His cheeks are pink by the time he gets a slice, but it’s the best birthday cake he’s ever had.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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mellowsaturns · 1 year

Text

for you, anything

JOEL MILLER X READER

summary: joel do what he does best, smuggling and taking care of you

warnings: fluff, soft!joel, domesticity, established relationship, reader caught a cold, sick fic

wc: 900

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After spending years and years fighting to survive a cordyceps apocalypse and tolerating a totalitarian government regime, you were no stranger to hardship. But it seemed like one thing has finally gotten to you, something that had you weak and bedridden for days now, something so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but it happened—you had managed to catch a common cold.

Okay, maybe you were being a little dramatic, but the combination of a sore throat, the inability to breathe, the stuffy nose and constant chills was making you feel awful.

The door opens and on a normal day, you would’ve been alert and ready for any potential intruders but you had no energy left and besides, you knew who it was just by the creaks of the floorboard.

You peek out from the corner of your eyes and Joel was leaning against the wall at the end of your bed, looking at you in pity.

“Shut up,” you groaned, pulling the thin blanket over your head.

That garnered a small chuckle from him. “Didn’t even say anything,” he said.

“You didn’t need to,” you murmured.

Feeling the bed dip with his pressure, he pulled the cover away. “How are you feeling today?”

“Like shit,” you replied as he brought his hand up to feel your forehead. “I can feel a major headache forming,” you added with a pout.

“Poor baby,” he cooed.

You gave him a weak punch in the arm. “You dick, if you’re here to make fun of me just leave.”

He snickered for a bit, clearly enjoying this before mellowing. “Here,” he said, handing you a paper bag you didn’t even know he was holding.

Raising an eyebrow in suspicion you took a peek inside. “Joel,” you gasped, “How did you manage to get these?”

Because inside the bag were different envelopes of white pills and packets of powdered electrolytes, everything you needed to help you get through a cold—probably way past its expiration date, but still, these were highly prized. You would have had to work months just to get enough rations for these items. And Joel just handed you these…

“Are you seriously questioning my skills?”

You scoffed. “No. But you really didn’t have to get all these for me. I would have gotten better with time.” And you know that he knows it too, but he still got these things for you because he knew it would help alleviate the pain even if it was for a little bit. And no matter how much he downplays it, you know how hard it must’ve been for him to get these items. You know because you’re in this business with him.

You couldn’t help the smile that was tugging at your lips. “But… Thank you. I appreciate you doing this for me.” For always taking care of me.

He hummed and looked away, embarrassed at the gratitude you were giving him. Getting up, he headed to the living room and grabbed you a bottle of water.

“Let me,” he offered, before placing the bottle on your bedside and helping you sit straight. He popped the medicine onto your palm and you swallowed them down. And maybe it was the placebo effect but you were feeling better already—or maybe it was just the fact that Joel was here.

Sometimes, he really was the best medicine.

Suddenly, he pulled out something from his pocket. “Here.”

You frowned in confusion before a surprised expression spread all over. “Joel…” you whispered.

Turning the package in your hand, you examined its content and the slight wrinkles of the plastic. He had managed to find you a bag of those hard fruity candies that you once loved when the world wasn’t in ruins—something you had forgotten until now. Something meaningless you told him all those years ago when you first got to know each other and reminisced about the good old days.

You wanted to cry. He went through all this effort just to make your life a little easier and joyful when you know it made his life a little harder.

When you looked up at him, he gave you a shy smile. “Thought it might make you happy.”

You were beaming. And if you weren’t sick, you’d kiss him.

He started taking off his shoes when you stopped him. “Joel, I’m sick.”

He scoffed, as if you said something absurd. “Move over,” he grunted, hogging the spot next to you and getting underneath the covers.

He crossed his arms and closed his eyes.

“I kinda miss this you know,” you whispered. Because even though you were wrapped in his jacket he gave you a few days ago, in which he insisted you wear because your blanket was too thin, it just wasn’t the same.

He made a noise in agreement and minutes later, he was snoring.

It’s been three days since you caught a cold, hence, three days since you’ve been fully in his presence. It only occurred to you now that he didn’t stay away because he was scared of catching it, but that he spent all that time working and doing what he does best. All because of you—all for you.

All you could do was admire him as moonlight gently graced the features of his face.

When you got better, you’d give him that kiss he deserved.

#self indulgent bc i am sick and feel awful #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal x you

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bellaxgiornata · 7 months

Text

Seeking Forgiveness [Part One]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: Matt always made protecting Hell's Kitchen his priority, you knew that when you'd begun dating him. What you hadn't expected was just how much he'd eventually make it a priority over you, breaking promise after promise to spend his time with you. But when you unexpectedly discover that you're pregnant and Matt yet again breaks a promise to you, the pair of you end up in a fight that ends the relationship before you can even break the news. Though when he later learns the truth, Matt becomes hell bent on seeking your forgiveness.

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: Starting an angsty mini series so I have somewhere to pour my angst until I can start Holding on to You when ATY finishes. Feedback is always appreciated and the installment list for this series can be found here!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie

Grabbing the last item on your list for dinner tonight, you set the package of chicken into the basket you were carrying beside the other ingredients. Turning around, you were ready to head towards the checkout, wanting to hurry so you could get over to Matt’s and begin cooking dinner. You were eager to spend the evening with him, desperate not to waste anymore time at the grocery store. But you abruptly stopped in your tracks once the store around you began to spin at the slight movement, the aisles around you blurring in your vision. Raising a hand to your forehead, you closed your eyes and clenched your teeth, standing there and waiting for the dizzy spell to pass, your stomach churning faintly as you did.

It was a minute before you’d finally opened your eyes again, the brief wave of nausea finally subsiding. Blinking a couple of times, you frowned and rubbed your hand across your forehead in confusion. You'd been experiencing dizzy spells and nausea more frequently this week, hitting you at random when you were at work or trying to get something done around your apartment. Yesterday when you’d bent over to pull a load of laundry out of the dryer one time too many, you’d almost thrown up in your laundry basket. You’d been wondering if maybe you’d been coming down with something for the past couple of days now because of it.

With a sigh you decided that you might as well head over towards the pharmacy while you were already here and grab some vitamins. Maybe you were coming down with something–the flu possibly–and honestly, you really couldn’t afford taking sick days at work right now with everything going on at the office. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to take some multi-vitamins. Maybe they could help you circumvent coming down with something more serious later.

Making your way towards the pharmacy through the busy grocery store, you maneuvered around the crowds of others who had stopped in after work to grab something for dinner, too. Your mind was distracted as you walked, having been looking forward to tonight for the past couple of days now and anxious to get the hell out of here already. It had been difficult for you to focus on anything at work today because it had been so long since you and Matt had a night in together.

You were planning to spend the evening at his apartment tonight and make him one of his favorite meals–and truthfully, it was one of the only things that didn’t seem to turn your stomach lately. You had missed spending the occasional evening in with him. It had certainly been far too long since the pair of you had enjoyed a dinner together before curling up on the couch or in his bed; it had unfortunately been just as long since you’d both had a chance to be intimate together, too.

Over the past few weeks, Matt had increasingly promised you that he wouldn’t go out as Daredevil and would make time for you instead, but he never actually followed through on any of those promises. After the first few times he'd broken them on you, you'd quickly become disheartened and frustrated, wondering if this was just how things were between you now. You'd hoped that wasn't the case, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt because you knew he hadn’t been in many relationships in the past. But still, he only ever continued to repeatedly break promise after promise on you.

You’d known Matt was Daredevil for a while now; you’d known that when you'd both officially become a couple. You'd also known that he felt like he had a duty to protect the people of Hell’s Kitchen. That was something you’d fully understood when you’d first entered into a relationship with him. But it had quickly become a problem recently. One you didn’t think Matt fully comprehended the gravity of himself.

Usually, he’d go out a few nights of the week and stop in at your apartment to stay over with you when he’d finished his patrol. On the nights he didn’t go out, you’d usually stay over at his place and the pair of you would make dinner together before spending most of the evening in bed making up for lost time before actually falling asleep. Recently though, he’d been going out every single night as Daredevil. And he hadn’t been stopping by your place afterwards because you’d eventually learned that he was staying out until almost four in the morning, barely leaving himself time to sleep before he needed to be at the office for work.

He’d told you that there was something going on with a Russian mafia in Hell’s Kitchen and that he’d been worried about it. But over the weeks, you’d watched as he’d become absolutely consumed with tracking down the leader of the mafia. Sometimes you’d see him leaving right after he’d come back from the office on the nights he’d already promised to spend with you before he stayed out scouring rooftops into the early morning hours. You’d barely seen him in weeks because of his near obsession with this Russian mafia. And when you did see him, it was only briefly and he was exhausted, covered in bruises, and incredibly moody. When you’d tried to talk to him the other night, practically begging him to stay in–not even just for you, but for his own sake–he’d been grumpy about it. Though when you’d begun to cry he’d promised you relentlessly that he’d stay in Wednesday night–which was tonight–if you just let him focus on this problem for the previous couple of nights.

And you had agreed to that. Grudgingly.

Reaching the pharmacy section of the store, your eyes scanned the signs above each aisle, searching for the section you needed as your feet gradually took you past row after row in your search for vitamins. You wanted to grab something and get out of here already, but another twist of your stomach had bile briefly racing up your throat. You immediately stopped mid-step, eyes widening as you threw a hand over your mouth. Thankfully the feeling disappeared as fast it had appeared, the bile disgustingly making its way back from where it had come, but you were yet again left confused.

Even though you’d thought that maybe you were getting sick with how your body had been acting the past couple of days, you had to admit, you’d never experienced flu symptoms quite like this before. You weren’t running a fever and you hadn’t actually thrown up at any point. You weren’t exactly achy, either. Though you had noticed that your breasts had felt uncomfortable and sore lately, and your nipples had been vastly more uncomfortable rubbing against your bras than usual.

No, you didn’t really feel like you were coming down with the flu. You’d just felt…off.

It wasn’t until you’d returned to your search for vitamins, taking one more step before your eyes landed on the pregnancy tests all neatly lined on a nearby shelf, that the realization hit you. Freezing on the spot as your mouth instantly grew dry, it all suddenly seemed to make sense.

For the past couple of months you’d been struggling with staying consistent when it came to taking your birth control. You’d even found yourself wondering on multiple occasions if you’d accidentally missed days here and there between the stress of work and the stress of Matt gradually pushing you further and further away constantly being on your mind. You��d confided in him that concern multiple times, too, telling him that you were considering going on a different type of birth control, one that you wouldn’t have to think about. And though he knew you hadn’t switched to anything else yet, he’d never seemed remotely concerned about the possibility of an accidental pregnancy. So the pair of you had continued to have unprotected sex–but looking back on that decision right now, you felt incredibly, absurdly stupid. Though in your defense, you’d thought things had been going well between you both. Matt had asked you to move in with him shortly before he’d become so absorbed in this Russian mafia’s nefarious activities, and he’d even often assured you that if something were to ever accidentally happen, he’d always be there for you.

But now, here you were, quite possibly pregnant because you’d been so goddamn stupid and careless.

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath.

Forcing your feet to move, you headed into the aisle, your eyes focused on the plethora of various pregnancy tests in different shades of blues and pinks. When you came to a stop in front of the shelf, you quickly tried to remember when you’d last had your period, eyes squinting as you thought back. Gasping a moment later, you realized it had been just over a month since you could last recall having it. Wincing at that knowledge, you once again cursed quietly to yourself, panic slowly beginning to settle inside of you.

For a moment all you could do was stand there staring at the selection of pregnancy tests feeling absolutely overwhelmed and terrified. Fighting the urge to start crying in the middle of the aisle, you focused on just picking one out. Eventually you grabbed a test that promised early accuracy, the box containing three tests inside. You knew from a coworker who had been trying to conceive with her husband that you couldn’t exactly go back to your apartment right now and take one. If you were pregnant, you’d be quite early, and you knew the tests were the most accurate if you used them first thing in the morning.

Which unfortunately meant you’d have to go over to Matt’s tonight and pretend everything was fine. And you knew that would be difficult with his heightened senses scanning over you, picking up on any little thing that was off. You could never get anything past him. Though maybe his distraction with the Russians would work in your favor for just this one thing tonight.

Hurrying out of the aisle as you tossed the box into your basket, you made your way to the checkout. While you waited in line, gnawing on your thumbnail nervously, you wondered if Matt’s senses could detect pregnancy tests. Would he know what was in the bag with the groceries or could you pass it off as something else? A box of tampons or something? Surely if you told him it had something to do with your period he wouldn’t push and he wouldn’t detect a lie, right?

By the time you’d purchased all your items, you were rushing the two blocks over to Matt’s apartment, moving faster than you ever had through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. Unfortunately the nausea had returned as soon as you stepped out of the elevator and onto his floor, making your stomach turn uncomfortably as you headed down the hallway and towards his apartment door. You honestly couldn’t tell if the nausea was from nerves or from whatever had been going on with you at this point, you just hoped Matt wouldn’t notice it. You’d already figured there was no point in telling him that you might be pregnant tonight and freaking him out if you didn’t know for certain yet.

Eventually you found yourself in front of Matt’s door, your eyes staring at the apartment number on the outside of it. Shaking out your arms and shoulders, you tried to regain your composure, forcing a smile onto your face. Curling your hand into a fist, you reached up and knocked on Matt’s door. It was a moment before you heard the sound of heavy footfalls coming through the apartment, making their way towards you. Frowning, your eyes narrowed as all of your thoughts shifted from the fear of possibly being pregnant to how those footsteps didn’t sound like Matt’s bare feet.

The door swung open a moment later just a fraction, Matt’s confused expression peering at you from around it. You noticed he had a cut on his forehead that hadn’t been there last night and your frown deepened at the sight of it.

“Sweetheart?” he asked. “What’re you doing here?”

Mouth dropping open, you gaped at him as your brows pulled tight together on your forehead. His question had the same effect as if he’d just slammed his fist into your stomach, knocking the air out of you. Surely he hadn’t forgotten about his plans with you once again, had he?

“I was coming over to make dinner,” you answered him slowly, irritation quickly lacing your tone. “Because you’d said you were staying in tonight with me. Remember? I picked up everything to make your favorite meal after work.”

His head canted more to the side, his eyes pinching tight as if he was trying to recall the plans. Your heart sunk to the floor as you bit your lip, nodding slowly in resignation.

“You forgot again, didn’t you?” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, I’m–I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said in a rush. “I was actually about to go out. I overheard something big happening tonight on my way home from work and I need to be there. I think I might actually get the information I’ve been looking for tonight.”

“Or you could just, you know, leave Mahoney a tip and let the police and proper authorities deal with this tonight,” you suggested dryly. “Give it a rest for one night. Let your body recover. Spend time with your girlfriend that you’ve barely seen in weeks .”

Matt frowned at you, opening the door further as he asked you to step inside. You hesitated for a second before you did, stepping past the threshold and rolling your eyes at the sight of him already dressed in everything except the helmet of his red suit. It hurt to know he’d probably have slipped out of the apartment if you’d only arrived a few minutes later, leaving you knocking at his door with no answer.

“You know this is what I do,” Matt reminded you. “I’ve never kept it a secret from you.”

“Yeah, I know,” you agreed, unable to hide your annoyance. “But usually you had a better work-vigilante-life balance than you’ve had recently, Matt. You’re like a dog with a goddamn bone lately. You’re not even taking care of yourself. Have you even been eating lately? Sleeping?” You gestured a hand to his bruised and cut face. “Tending to your injuries and recovering?”

Matt’s lips thinned out as he focused on the floor, the muscle twitching in his cheek. You’d annoyed him with this line of questions. Again . As if your care and concern for him was really that irritating for him to hear. The thought of that only angered you further.

“I’m fine,” he said firmly. “And I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night. I promise. I’ll even cook for you.”

You scoffed in annoyance, shaking the bags in your hand. Matt’s face darted in the direction of them, his head tilting a few times as he seemed to observe the contents within the bags.

“I already picked things up for dinner, Matt,” you snapped. “Hurried over to the grocery store right after work and everything. Because we had plans .”

“Okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” he told you. “I swear I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night. Spend the whole night in with you. I’ll cook the meal meant for tonight and you can relax with a glass of wine while I do. I’ll clean everything up. And then afterwards–” he continued, shooting you a devilish grin that only had your blood boiling, “–I’m all yours. For the whole night.”

Fist tightening around the grocery bags in your hand, you could feel your nails biting into your palm. That wasn’t exactly what you wanted, and if you were being honest, it felt like another empty promise. But you figured you’d have to give him one more chance. Because if those pregnancy tests came back positive tomorrow morning, you’d need to see him to tell him that news anyway.

“You do realize I’m pissed, right?” you pointed out.

He nodded solemnly, the grin slipping off his face. “Yes and I’m sorry. I really am,” he told you.

Grinding your teeth together, you ran your left hand over your forehead. You felt like crying and screaming simultaneously right now. Though you figured neither of those reactions would actually manage to keep Matt here with you tonight, not with whatever it was he was so desperate to go out and deal with.

“Fine,” you ground out through your teeth. “Tomorrow night, Matt. Don’t break another promise to me, please .”

He nodded quickly, smiling his usual charming smile back at you. “I won’t, you have my word, sweetheart,” he assured you. “I’m all yours tomorrow night.” He stepped forward, planting a brief, barely there kiss on your forehead. “I love you,” he whispered.

You stood there dumbfounded and speechless, watching as he didn’t even wait for a response. He simply spun around, hurrying over towards his coffee table and grabbing the helmet off of it that you must have interrupted him from putting on moments ago. He didn’t even give you a backwards glance or another word, darting over to the stairs and taking them to the roof access two at a time as he pulled the helmet over his face, obscuring his identity.

And then he was out the door, leaving you standing there alone in his apartment with the grocery bags full of what was supposed to have been tonight’s romantic dinner in your hands.

“Love you, too,” you whispered to the empty room, not even certain he’d been listening outside.

Shoulders dropping in defeat, you made your way into his kitchen and over to the fridge. Pulling the door open, you saw how empty it was inside–more bare than usual even. Shaking your head at how little he’d been taking care of himself recently, you began to unload the groceries into his fridge, wondering if you really would be eating dinner with him tomorrow like he’d once again promised, or if he'd break it and your heart in one night.

All day long your heart had been in your throat, pounding so vigorously that it constantly left you feeling like you were going to somehow choke on it. It’d been like that ever since you’d woken up early this morning and pissed into a disposable cup that you’d had left over from your apartment warming party earlier this year–a time where you and Matt had certainly been happier together. You’d opened up all three pregnancy tests afterwards, putting each one in the cup for the allotted time that the instructions had said. And you’d certainly read them meticulously, going over them at least five times before you’d used them, wanting to make sure the results were accurate.

All three came back with two pink lines that were impossible to miss.

You’d nearly thrown up right then on the spot, terrified of being pregnant when you hadn’t planned on it. You were even more terrified at the prospect of telling Matt the news, even if he had always told you that he'd be there for you. You really didn't want to be alone, not in something like this.

Though you knew his lifestyle certainly didn’t lend itself to him being a father–especially lately with how he was always out nearly all night pushing his body harder than he should’ve been. He certainly hadn’t been there for you much himself lately, either. How the hell was he going to handle finding out he was actually going to be a father? Could he actually be one with the way he kept prioritizing the people of Hell’s Kitchen above everything else, including his own well being? Because with how he’d been acting the past few weeks, breaking promise after promise to you, you weren’t so sure anymore. You weren’t even so sure of your relationship with him at this point, or what he even thought of it himself considering how little he’d been invested in it over the past few weeks.

Now here you were, once again standing just outside of his apartment door, struggling to find the courage to knock on it. And the fact that you’d been standing here for a few minutes wringing your hands and he had not even come to the door to answer it only meant one of two things. He was either distracted and getting ready to go out as Daredevil again, having forgotten once more about his plans with you, or he’d already gone out.

With a trembling hand, you forced yourself to finally knock on the door. If Matt didn’t answer then you supposed you’d have your answer on what he thought about the relationship. Still, that didn’t stop the way your hand continued to shake as you knocked, three loud, sharp raps ringing out that you knew he couldn’t possibly miss. Sucking in a breath, you held it as you waited anxiously for the sound of his footsteps.

It was only seconds later when you heard them, grimacing when they neared the door. They sounded far too heavy to have been his bare feet. They had to have been his boots, though you desperately hoped he just hadn’t taken off his dress shoes yet. Maybe he’d gotten home from work late. Your heart pounded harder in your chest as you clung to that hope.

The door swung open just a bit, revealing Matt’s face once again peering around it. He only ever hid around the side of the door when he was in his suit, trying to hide the evidence of his alter ego from the sight of his neighbors. But he at least had the nerve to look abashed and apologetic this time. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten he'd made plans with you, but from the bit of red peeking out behind the door, you knew what his plans had actually been for the night.

“Hey, come on in, sweetheart,” he said softly.

Jaw tight, you wrapped your arms across your chest and stepped inside past him. You could feel your chest tightening as you looked over your shoulder, watching as Matt closed the door after you and giving you plenty of time to examine him in his red suit. He once again had everything already pulled on except for his helmet, which a quick glance over to the living room proved was sitting out expectantly on his coffee table. You hugged your arms tighter around your chest, eyes dropping dejectedly down to the floor. You supposed you’d had your answer now, even if you hadn’t voiced the question.

Daredevil and Hell’s Kitchen meant more to him than you or this unborn child probably would. And you figured they probably always would mean more to Matt.

And that fucking hurt.

Your vision blurred as tears began to well in your eyes. Hands balling tighter into fists, you could feel the faint tremble beginning in your knees. You had a feeling this wasn't going to end well, one way or another. Because you certainly couldn't stand to be treated like this any longer, especially not if you were going to be having a child, and he certainly didn't seem to care about how he had been treating you.

“Sweetheart,” Matt began carefully, “I know I promised to stay in tonight. I know that. But there’s a meeting going on tonight with the Russians. I might be able to disrupt it if I leave here soon.”

You sniffled, trying to stop the tears from falling. The sound caused Matt to wince, his head snapping towards you instantly. He reached a hand out to your shoulder, clearly intending to try and comfort you, but you abruptly twisted out of his reach, uncaring if the gesture hurt him. He’d already hurt you plenty already.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“No you’re not,” you grit out, glaring up at him. “Stop saying that, Matt. You’re not sorry or you wouldn’t keep breaking your promises to me.”

His dark brows drew together on his face, his head canting to the side. He actually looked confused and for some reason that only had you wanting to laugh–though you didn't.

“Of course I’m sorry. Do you think I like hurting you?” he asked.

“Then stop doing it, Matt,” you openly begged. “Take off the suit. Stay in with me tonight. Hell, stop by the precinct long enough to just give Mahoney a tip for the meeting and then come back, even. But–” you swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat as you felt the tears threatening to spill, “–don’t break another promise to me, Matt. Not tonight. Please . I am actually begging you this time.”

Matt inhaled a sharp breath, his lips thinning as he gazed down at you. A second later his gloved hands landed on his hips, something you knew he did when he was frustrated. The first tear slipped down your cheek at the sight, watching as his weight shifted back and forth between his feet.

“Sweetheart,” Matt began, an edge to his tone, “you know this is what I do. You’ve always known that. Always. And you agreed to be with me anyway.” He waved a hand at his suit, his eyes narrowing back at you. “This is a part of me. A part of my life. It isn’t going anywhere.”

"I know that, Matt," you told him, voice breaking as you spoke, more tears streaking down your face. "But this? Going out every night? Not sleeping or eating? Not giving your body time to heal? That isn't good for you. And the way you've been neglecting our relationship–"

"I have not been neglecting it, sweetheart," he said dryly, cutting you off.

You startled at his tone, gasping in surprise. Matt had never spoken to you like this before, and certainly not when you'd been so visibly upset. There was no way he couldn't tell the tears were rolling down your cheeks right now, no way he couldn't tell that you were crying.

"There are things going on in Hell’s Kitchen that I need to deal with," he continued roughly, his face firm as he spoke. "And that's exactly what I'm going to do tonight."

"Matt," you began softly, trying to fight the tremble in your voice, "I told you at lunch there was something important I needed to tell you tonight. To talk with you about."

He shifted again on his feet, his hands tightening on his hips. His lips pressed further together in irritation, his eyes hardening back at you in a way that didn't feel like the Matt you'd always known. He looked cold and unyielding right now.

"Then you can tell me later tonight, after I deal with this," he told you.

"It's important , Matt," you pushed. "We need to talk. We need to–"

"And it'll still be important later," he snapped, turning and heading down the hall towards his living room. "I need to go. I don't have time to argue with you right now."

His words hit you hard, your arms hugging around yourself even tighter. Was he really going to prioritize this city over you again ?

You hurried down the hall after him, watching as he snatched his helmet from off the coffee table. You could feel your panicked pulse jumping in your throat as you wiped the back of your hand across your damp cheeks. You needed to try to get him to listen. He needed to know what you'd found out this morning–that you were pregnant with his child. You didn't want to be alone figuring things out right now, not after discovering just how much your life was changing only this morning. You wanted Matt to hold you and tell you everything would be alright. That he'd meant it when he said before that he would be there for you.

You didn’t want to be alone. Not right now. Not with this.

"Matt, stop, please," you pleaded again. "Stay and talk to me." You swallowed hard, wincing as your next words came out sounding so weak and broken. "I need you."

He spun on his heel towards you, the movement so abrupt that you startled and stumbled a step back. Your eyes instantly widened in shock at the anger reflecting back at you, the set of his features more of the Devil than your usual sweet Matty.

"I'm not doing this right now!" he snarled at you. "This city needs me, too. If you want to talk, you can wait for me here until I get back. Otherwise–" he snapped, throwing a hand towards the apartment door, "–you know where the door is, sweetheart. Feel free to leave!"

Your mouth fell open in shock at his words, entirely speechless as you gaped back at him. He pulled the helmet on over his head, covering the anger in his eyes but not the sneer on his mouth–the same mouth that had only ever curled into loving smiles at you previously.

"You can't be serious," you whispered.

" Completely ," he growled at you. "Feel free to leave like everyone else that can't accept me for who I am."

"Matt, that's not–"

"I'll be back later," he said, tone suddenly indifferent as he turned and made his way towards the stairs. "Be here or don't. That's on you."

The tears began to spill down your cheeks faster at his words, a hand flying over your mouth to muffle the sob that slipped out of you. Matt continued on his way up the stairs, his focus only on the door to the roof. He didn't make any attempt to comfort you or to keep you here. No attempt to apologize or to show his willingness to listen to you or your needs. He didn't do anything other than walk out that door and let it close with a loud bang behind himself.

A strangled sob slipped out of your lips as you stumbled backwards again, overcome with a surge of emotions as the tears continued to burn hot trails down your cheeks. Your arms slid down your chest, wrapping lower around your abdomen. Gaze dropping down towards it, another whimper left you. Somewhere in there was Matt’s child. And it felt like he couldn’t have cared in the least–about you or what you had needed to tell him. Not with the way he'd just walked out on you like that.

Which meant he probably wouldn’t even have cared if you had broken the news to him. If he’d given you a moment to tell him that you were pregnant, you were sure he’d still have stormed off into the night. He’d still have believed he was needed more in Hell’s Kitchen than by you and this unborn child. Which left you feeling exactly the way you didn’t want to be feeling.

Alone.

Spinning on your heel, you hurried back down his entryway hall before flinging his apartment door open. The sound of your own sobs filled your ears as you slammed the door shut behind yourself. As you stepped out into the hallway, you hoped Matt heard the way it had banged shut. Hoped it hurt him as much as he'd just hurt you. Because no matter what he said, he was the one who’d chosen to walk out the door first– not you.

But if that’s the way he wanted things, you weren’t going to beg him anymore. He could have his beloved city. You had other things you needed to focus on. Like finding an obstetrician and picking up prenatal vitamins. Figuring out what to expect during pregnancy and how the hell you were going to raise a child by yourself in New York City. Because you were certain Matt wouldn’t be in the picture, not in any way that would actually help you. And while you knew you didn’t have the heart to keep your child from their father, you still had almost nine more months before Matt really needed to know the truth.

You pushed the button for the elevator at the end of the hall, wiping your hands across your cheeks. It hurt you more than he'd ever know for you to have walked out that door tonight, but you also knew you deserved better. Knew that he wouldn't be any help to you while you were pregnant, not with the way he'd been acting. He'd only make everything more complicated and difficult for you. You'd tell him eventually, when you'd had time to cool off and to try to get over him and this failed relationship. After you’d had time to figure things out when it came to having this baby. You'd make sure he eventually knew the truth before the baby was born, but right now you needed to accept that you were on your own and that things were over with Matt.

So to hell with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #matt murdock series #daredevil

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strawbeelemonade · 11 months

Text

ROMANTIC IMAGINE: Miguel O'hara visits you when you call in sick

i know how to write things other then headcannons i swear. theyre just so EASY. you can request actual fics lmao. promise! This was intended as romantic btw, but you can interperate this however you want!

WARNING: descripion of wounds/blood, description of burns, overprotectiveness,

Miguel lands on your balcony with a heavy thump, his landing was a little awkward from trying to swing with only one hand, but he managed well enough. The Tupperware in his hand looked a little worse for wear, though.

Almost every fibre of him wanted to turn around and forget about this, but he knew he couldn’t bring himself to, he needed to know you were ok.

You had called off sick from work yesterday, and you didn't show up today either. In all the time you were working at Alchemex you’ve never done that before. The secretary had told him you sounded like you were in a lot of pain over the phone, so it was obvious you were unwell in some way or another. He’s been worried ever since.

This felt stupid. Over dramatic, even. But he’d gone to his brother for advice, and this is what he had given him: Their moms classic Pozole recipe, The same recipe him and his brother ate while growing up. Obviously Miguel protested, adamantly. he hadn’t cooked for anyone in a very long time. He wasn’t even sure if he’d still be able to… His brothers response?

“Do you want my help or not?”

So Miguel scrounged around the kitchen for what he needed. He squinted to read his mothers old chicken scratch from all those years ago. He put in the work, as uncomfortable as he felt, And He packaged it and come all the way here.

And now he didn’t know how to go forward.

He had never felt more out of his element in his life. As he Stood outside your window with the soup in his freakish claws he realised he didn’t know where to go from there. He hadn’t thought further than this point. What would he say when he gave it to you? What would he even do after that?

He had to awkwardly shimmy through the window with the Tupperware in one hand, almost stepping on a cable stretching across the floor. “Fuck—“

the hinges creaking offensively as he pushed down your open window and he cursed, shutting it as delicately as possible. When he heard your voice ring out from behind him he tensed.

“Uh, Hey Miguel!” You call from the bathroom. He breathed out the puff of air he was holding in. No turning back now.

“…Hey,” he called, not knowing where to begin. “…I brought you a little something.”

He makes his way to where he heard your voice coming from, and pauses briefly by your kitchen counter. He looks down at the soup in his hands.

…He could just leave it here, that would be less humiliating for everyone, wouldn’t it? He knew you were ok, now. He heard your voice, so you were alive. He did what he came here to do. He could turn around right now and escape while you were still in the bathroom.

But something stops him. A little smell wafted by his nose briefly. It was brief. It was faint. But it was there and it made him pause.

So he sits the soup on the counter quietly, but he doesn’t turn around. He walks further down the hall and takes a deep breathe. The smell is clearer now. Miguel gets a bad feeling.

He picks up the pace and pulls off his mask to get a better whiff, and suddenly he’s hit with the all too familiar stifling stench of blood.

No.

NO!

“Y/n!” He runs up to your bathroom door and starts rattling the handle, but the door is locked. He pauses when he hears your voice on the other side, clearer and more effective at preventing him from tearing the door off its hinges—.

“D-Don’t come in!” You yell. “I’m... ngh- I’m a bit busy in here!”

“Y/n, what do I smell?!” He doesn’t need you to tell him, He already knows the answer. It’s pungency rings clear from his side of the door. The tanginess was so prominent that even someone with normal senses could pick up on it.

“N-nothing!” You stutter. You always stutter when you’re nervous. And when you're lying.

“Are you bleeding? Where’s it coming from? Open up!” He starts banging on the door again, his fist unintentionally rattling the frame.

“You don’t smell anything- stop that!” You snapped, annoyance ringing clear. But there was a certain strain to your voice, a painful whine that made his heart drop. “I-I’m just, uh- changing! will you give me a minute? Please, Miguel.”

“Don’t lie to me! What’s wrong, can you not get to the door?” He starts backing up to gauge the frame of the door and… Yeah, he could kick that in, easily.

sensing what he was getting ready to do, you spring up from your spot hunched over on the side of the bath tub and amble to the bathroom door. “No no no!” You lean against the door, heaving. “Don’t do anything drastic, I’m right here!”

He paused and waited for you to open it, but your hesitation makes him start losing his patience. “Y/n-“

“I’m ok, Miguel. S-seriously. I just took a little tumble on the way home.” You swallow back a painful grunt as you lean on the door frame for more support. “Look…” you started. “Now’s really not a good time—“

“Y/n.”

You shut your mouth. ‘Oh, shit.’

the tone of his voice hid a warning. Miguel knew what you were going to suggest even before you said it, and he refused to let you finish. The fact that you were bleeding as much as you were for him to smell you across the house, And you were trying to hide it from him? It must be bad, there was no doubt about that. His brain began racing for answers, for explanations, for names. He didn’t know where you were hurt, god what if it was somewhere vital? Who did this to you and where? Why were you trying to hide it? Did they threaten you? Something must of happened. there was no way he would leave you here, No. There was no getting rid of him now.

“Open this door.” He says one final time. And you can tell it’s the final time from the tone of his words. His voice quaked with fury at even the mere insinuation that he’d ever leave you when you were wounded. That you were even wounded In the first place.

“Now.”

...

There’s a beat of silence where neither of you say anything. And for a second he thinks he’s going to have to break the door open inwards just to avoid plowing over you to get it open. But then he hears you apprehensively turn the lock and he almost breaks the handle from how fast he rips it open.

You stumble a bit, reeling at his strength. and then youre taking a tumble from being thrown off balance, but before you can even yelp out a cry he swoops in to catch you in his arms before your body can even comes close to hitting the floor. “Lo si—! Sorry! Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

from being so close he could tell immedietely that you were running warm, did you really have a fever too? He perches you on to the toilet seat and you wince at the ache washing through your body. God, your back was killing you... and Miguel's hands were all over you. you tried pulling your arms out of his grip, but he wasn't budging. he scoured your front for bruises, cuts, anything.

"what happened, where does it hurt, Y/N, please." he lifted your arms, checking your sides. nothing there... You couldn't bring yourself to answer, all the jostling around was making you go really dizzy... so much so that his words seemed to bounce off your ears. you squint at him. were there two of him before?

"Oi, mami/papi. focus for me. tell me where your hurt." he pats your cheek, snapping you a little out of your stupor. you blinked. his faced was pulled taught with worry, lines creased his skin in places that looked almost painful. and his eyes...

"Miguel... hhhave... your eyessschanged?" you weren't sure if it was the delirium from the pain finally setting in, or if your bathroom light just highlighted the underlying hues, but his tired brown eyes had shifted to a shade of... dare you say red.

they flicked back to your face, they had this wild look in them, like he was angry. but his voice wobbled like he was scared. "tell me where the pain is."

"... M' back.." you mumbled. he tugs on your shoulder to twist you around, making you whine. he apologizes quietly, before turning back to the red stains that were crawling up the back of your shirt.

you both descended into a tense silence. Miguel looked cramped, hovering over you in your tiny bathroom. he had to draw in his arms to not knock into your shower. not the most ideal place to play nurse... but he would manage. Miguel unshealthes his talons and cuts open the fabric like its warm butter. all you feel is a cold draft hit your back, and you shudder.

when he gets a good look at the state of your back his heart drops, what he finds isn't what he was expecting. your lower back is marred with an explosion like mass of burned skin. the center of the wound is deeper and more bloody then the rest, like something fast, blunt and burning hot struck you there.

God.

"Y/N, what the hell happened?" he glances at your bathroom bin and spots your old, scorched shirt lying inside. so you really were changing... that explained why the shirt you were wearing didn't have a massive gaping hole in it.

"Lyla. whats the aetiology for this." she flickers into view next to him, screening your back, and she winces.

"the lascerations have been caused by 1st and 2nd degree burns, the wound has become infected and needs to be treated immediately. the depth of the wound is telling me that the collision was hard and fast, likely a projectile."

"they were shot?."

"most likely. not by any normal weapon though, obviously." she confirmed, "it... doesn't look like the infection has interfered with the spinal collum." she optimistically added.

"will it scar?" he tilted his head towards her, but didn't take his eyes off the wound.

the Ai assistant didn't respond, calculating the most nerve settling response to his question. her silence told him everything he needed to know. "yeah, don't answer that." a snarl was building in his throat, fighting its way to the top.

he spots the first aid bag and its contents sprawled across your counter. most of it was over the counter painkillers, light ointments and bandaids. nothing in there that would help you.

"ok." he drags his hand down his face looking around the room. "Hijo de puta-!" his fist banged against the wall in a burst of anger, the pathetic thin walls rattled underneath the force. "Y/N, what the hell were you thinking?!"

you were stuck in this apartment by yourself, barely able to move or, jesus, even think. the fact that he could have never come… No, that he had come but couldve left here without knowing you were going through this on your own... the thought made him sick. why did you let it get this bad? what had happened?

you don't answer his question, your breathing has started to grow heavier, fevered. the sheen of sweat on the back of your neck had grown thicker as well. miguel reaches out to hold you steady. his mind racing. you can't stay here.

he knows he has to make a call. literally. he lifts his watch to his face.

"Jess, get someone on the medical team to prepare for my arrival." he picks you up carefully and fights to keep his voice from rising, he wasn't thinking clearly. all he could think about was getting you somewhere safe.

it wasn't common for miguel to ask for medical assistance, even at times when he probably should. he didn't like calling for help, he prefered to do things on his own, even to his own detriment. the idea that something could shake miguel up like this, making him ask for assistance, was new. Jessica could hear the tension in his throat as clear as day.

"whats your condition." she responded, concern shining through in her voice.

"no, no. i'm fine." he answered. "i've got an injured with me, they've been shot and need first aid immedietely. its a second degree burn that been left for over 24 hours, its infected."

"...done." she answers. "are they a new recruit?"

"they're a friend."

Pozole: a traditional soup or stew that is made from hominy with meat, you can put in things like shredded lettuce/cabbage, chilli peppers, onions, garlic, radishes, avocado, salsa or limes. (this sounds scrummy ngl i'm so hungry bro)

"Lo siento": i'm sorry (this is when he goes "Lo si-" but cuts himself off)

"Oi, mami": hey, Mama (i learned that mami or mamita can be used in a lot of different ways. native spanish speakers can use it to adress parentel figures, friends that give motherly energy, or it can even be used as a funny nickname for kids. i've seen a lot of people use it sexually in fics, but apparently thats not always the case!)

aetiology: kind of like a diagnosis, but different. its the cause of a desease or condition. idk if it's applicable to wounds, though.

"Hijo de puta-!": son of a bitch-!

I put these here so if anyone has any corrections i could make to the terms I’ve used to be more accurate then I can change them accordingly. I used online translators and articles… if anyone has any good websites for translating languages let me know! i'd be really interested.

#love is stored in the pozole #across the spiderverse #spider man #spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 99 #spiderman99 #into the spider verse #hurt/comfort #gender nuetral reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #angst #fluff #fanfic

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sttoru · 9 months

Text

STEP ON ME !

ෆ sypnosis. satoru decides to surprise you by making breakfast in bed since you weren’t feeling well. he leaves the kitchen a complete mess, which only stresses you out more and it eventually turns into a small argument.

ෆ note. had to make some satoru angst (+ comfort at the end).. based on a thought i had of satoru holding back tears & failinf t_t not proofread !

ෆ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. angst, reverse comfort, bits of fluff, satoru holdin back tears because he isn’t used to u raising ur voice.. ehem. that’s all ima say.

satoru’s tongue stuck out between his lips as he was deeply focused on cracking an egg open without making too much noise. he had planned this surprise breakfast for you in secrecy ever since he spotted the stress and fatigue in your demeanour. it was written all over your face: you needed a break from life itself and as soon as it was possible.

the least your lover could do was make things easier for you by doing the simplest of tasks. that’s the reason behind satoru’s motivation this morning. he was determined to make you your favourite food just to be able to see that smile on your face again.

‘then, add 200ml of milk,’ the voice of a woman explaining the recipe on a youtube video sounded from somewhere in the kitchen. satoru couldn’t even spot his phone throughout the entire mess he made; he just followed what the voice said.

there was flour everywhere on the counter along with broken egg shells, spilled milk, ripped open packages of seasoning, some other pans on the stove which got toasts in them (already halfway burning). all in all, it was utter chaos, though it seemed like satoru’s been used to it.

“okay.. now we mix it.” satoru mumbles to himself and grabs a whisk to mix the ingredients in the bowl. he had a joyful expression on his face, dimples showing near the corners of his mouth, blue eyes glimmering with anticipation at what your reaction could be.

‘she’s gonna be so surprised—can’t wait,’ your lover was already imagining just what your face would look like once he surprises you. it fills his heart with pure and unadulterated love.

little did he knew that you were already awake due to the distant noises of destruction in your kitchen. you had awoken with a headache and were already in a bad mood because of whoever interrupted your (already) poor sleeping schedule. satoru was most likely the culprit since he wasn’t in bed with you right this moment.

you lift yourself up with a groan, mumbling some complaints once you realised that you had been awoken at 9 in the morning. today was the first and last day in so many weeks that you could sleep in, yet was instantly ruined. this only fuelled your stress for the day ahead.

what you didn’t expect, however, was to find the kitchen in such a disastrous condition. you freeze on spot and stare at the mess with wide eyes. the only thing you could hope for in that instant, was that this was all part of a very long and realistic nightmare.

satoru wiped some flour from his face as he was too engrossed on perfectly cutting up some of your favourite fruit. he had a proud expression on his face once the last pieces were sliced up and stepped back to admire his work, “absolute masterpiece. bet she’ll be happy about it.”

a long sigh coming from behind the sorcerer made him turn around. his face lit up at the sight of you. especially because he loves how adorable you look in the mornings; a bit grumpy, tired eyes, pouty lips— although there was no denying it; you seemed even grumpier today which didn’t surprise him. you were going through a hard time after all.

“hi, baby!” satoru greets you with a bright smile in hopes to erase whatever was bothering you, “i made you your favourite breakfast combo. i thought i’d surprise you today, but heh, guess you found out before i could.”

you didn’t even pay any mind to what was said nor did you look up at your lover even once. all your eyes were seeing was the complete mess all around the kitchen, on the tiles, counter and walls.

“satoru,” another deep sighs leaves your lips in attempt to calm your nerves and not lose your temper, “what’s all this?”

satoru hesitates a little to speak up once he senses the slight discomfort—no—irritation building up in you. he’s always been attentive to any changes in your mood and that’s how he easily comes to know when you’re upset. this moment was no different.

“hm? what?” satoru slowly asks, voice lower than it was previously. he really was trying not to accidentally strike a nerve, all the while keeping that big smile on his lips. there was a quiet voice in the back of his mind which was telling him that you were at the verge of breaking down. you’ve been on the edge since yesterday. it was only a matter of time for you to lose your temper.

thus, satoru decides to tread carefully, doing that by trying to change topics and feigning innocence. of course, he knew you meant the disaster in the kitchen, however he figured it’d be the right choice to make you forget about it;

“you mean this? it’s your favourite pancakes and—uhh— your favourite fruits and stuff. y’know what i realised this morning? cookin’ is really har—”

“don’t act dumb. you know damn well what i meant, gojo.”

the harsh words pierce through satoru’s soul. the tone of voice used by you sending an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. it was noticeable, the physical changes satoru went through in under two seconds: his smile dropped, lips slightly parting in mild shock, body freezing and eyes shaky as they looked back at yours.

the last thing he had expected was for you to be so stone cold to him. satoru never has heard you be this hostile against him throughout the entirety of your relationship, hence his reaction.

and the cherry on top? you using his family’s name to refer to satoru as an individual. the only ones using ‘gojo’ to refer to him were his students and strangers. it felt like your long, loving and strong relationship was shattered in that split second.

“b-baby, i..” he stumbles over his own words. what was there left to say, anyway? you clearly felt angry with him to the point your eyes were glaring at him like he was an enemy of yours. not a lover whom had only shown care and love for you all this time.

all satoru wanted was to make you happy. he didn’t want to upset you in any way, but you were too stressed out by everything to even notice his pure intentions. after all, a negative mindset drives you to hyper focus on all the negativity going on in your life.

“just get out.” you sigh as you walk past your lover, slightly bumping against the tall man which-surprisingly-makes him budge and stumble a step back, “i’ll clean this up.”

satoru didn’t even look at you anymore as his gaze was fixed on the cold tiles underneath his feet. there were a thousand questions going through his head. he didn’t want an answer to all of them. he only needed an answer to one:

“are you mad at me?”

satoru’s voice hadn’t sounded this weak and fragile in ages. in fact, satoru hadn’t felt his heart ache this bad in decades. he knows; he knows he messes up sometimes. the mistakes made in the past, which led to disappointment and even breaks of long lasting relationships, haunted him every night. he never blames others for leaving him since the only outcome of staying with him was disadvantageous.

you don’t answer that question, being too focused on cleaning the food and ingredients cluttered everywhere. the fact that you didn’t answer made satoru panic. even if he tried his best not to show his weakness in the moment.

if only he hadn’t made a mess, if only he didn’t try to do something he knew he wasn’t good at, if only.. he never stepped foot in this kitchen today; none of this would have happened. he wouldn’t have hurt another person who was dear to him.

satoru clenches his fists, white locks covering his eyes to hide the pain, panic and despair in them. there was a lump in the back of his throat, one which he had grown to get used to whenever things go wrong.

but, he can handle it; he can just push those feelings away and act like everything was okay. like he wasn’t hurt by your words. he should just go and help you clean up silently; with a smile on his face regardless. maybe it’d cheer you up— it’s always worth a try.

whilst being in hurtful moments like these, gojo satoru couldn’t help but be the most selfless person on earth.

“sorry. i’m sorry.” his voice breaks the uneasy silence between the two of you. without facing him, you could sense the devastation in his tone. satoru clenches his fists so hard that he could feel his nails making a small wound on the palm. he was trying his utter best not to break down in front of you, because that would be unlike him; unlike the strongest.

“please don’t be mad at me.” what he actually meant by that sentence was ‘please don’t leave me’. satoru’s eye twitches a little as tears begin to blur his vision. he turns his back at you so that you couldn’t notice them— or rather— can’t notice his vulnerability in general.

your movements come to an abrupt halt as your ears pick up on a small hitch of his breath. you knew it well; the little gasp of air before somebody starts crying. that’s when you snapped out of your angry trance, your whole demeanour mellowing instantly.

you turned your body sideways and bit your lip once you saw how satoru had his back turned to you—his shoulders trembling a bit from your point of view. you hesitantly took a few steps towards your lover and when you spoke, your voice was a complete opposite to its earlier used tone, “hey, satoru.”

silence.

you felt your heart break as you realised what you’ve said earlier and how bad it could’ve came across to satoru. your gaze falls on the plates he filled with your all time favourite dishes. the mess surrounding it was just evidence of his hard work— his love for you.

“baby.” you try again, placing a careful hand on satoru’s back. he’s never shown you a vulnerable side of his. you were always met with silly smiles or jokes, despite him being at his lowest.

satoru tensed up a bit as your hand came in contact with his body. it was not out of fear for you, but rather for the consequences of that touch. it was like he forgot all about your irritation from earlier and just set his attention on how you tried to comfort him.

a sigh leaves your lips before you step around satoru’s body to face him properly. his head was still held low and his snowy bangs kept covering his beautiful eyes, though there was no doubt about it: he was silently crying.

you reach out for him, pulling his head to rest on your chest, your other arm draped around his shoulders. soft pecks were placed all over his soft hair while his face was buried in your chest.

in a fraction of just a second, satoru’s entire body melts into your embrace. his arms wrap around your waist while his face was squished against your chest. your scent filled his nostrils which bought him a sense of safety and comfort since it meant that you were still with him. satoru sniffles quietly and squeezes you tightly like he doesn’t want to ever let go of you.

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m the one who should be sorry. not you. please forgive me for snapping at you.” you mumble, feeling the guilt hit you in big waves when you took note of the way satoru clung onto you.

quiet sobs, ones that left you devastated, filled the silence in the kitchen. the vibrations of satoru’s soft cries could be felt against your chest and it caused you to hug him tighter than before. you nuzzle your nose into his white, fluffy hair and plant a couple more kisses on his scalp which were meant for comfort.

constant apologies spill from your lips as you realise how bad you must’ve hurt the guy to get him to cry; if anyone else saw satoru straight up sob like this, they’d be baffled yet curious as to what could’ve made such an all time upbeat man finally break down.

all it actually took was you. the most dearest person in his life at the moment, to show a small amount of disappointment in him and satoru felt like his entire future was done for. because, what would a successful future be without you present? it’d all be meaningless, that’s for sure.

“it’s okay.” satoru finally manages to say, his voice hoarse from silently crying in your arms. he slowly pulls his head back to look at you. his blue eyes were glistening with tears, the corners a red hue from all the emotions flowing through him, “i should’ve been more careful.”

your heart sinks at the sight of your lover whom was still insisting on it being his fault. satoru was always like that, no matter the circumstances.

“no, it’s not your fault.” your fingers brushed away the crystal clear drops on satoru’s pale skin, “all you wanted to do was surprise me and make me happy. i shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

satoru looked up at you and then down at your fingers as they gently wiped off his tears. you treated him so delicately in this moment and he loved every second of it. a small smile crept on his face and he eventually nodded,

“thank you.” the two words were simple ones, however you could feel the gratitude radiating off satoru as he slowly regains his usual form. his white eyelashes were wet with tears, cheeks flushed and areas surrounding his eyes gaining a subtly red colour.

it didn’t take much for your lover to calm down. as long as he has you, he can have the entire world and its population against him and he’d still feel the best he ever was. as long as you stayed by his side and didn’t ignore him nor hate him, he’ll live his best life.

no one else mattered to the strongest except for you. and your validation.

“you’re beautiful.” you mutter as you take a good look at satoru’s face from up close. you’ve never seen him properly cry before, so this sight was a first. and oh, what was it an ethereal one.

satoru’s eyes widen in response and he raises his eyebrows at the comment you dropped out of nowhere. all the pain, frustrations and stress were sucked out of his system. from yours as well.

“aht aht, don’t start now, babe”. he playfully scolds while poking your cheek. satoru straightens his back and gazed down at you with that signature grin of his, “we both know you’re more beautiful.”

you giggle and shake your head. you know it’s coming up next; the compliment war. the only battle which satoru hadn’t won just yet. it always ends up with a draw since neither of you want to give up when it comes to showing your love to each orher.

its what strengthens your bond and made it to what it is today. small arguments or misunderstandings, such as the one from earlier, are no match to the purest form of love that lingers between the two of you.

neither satoru nor you will ever give up on your relationship. you both only have each other left in this world after all.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #jjk #jjk x you #jjk angst

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thef1diary · 2 months

Text

Little Big Fan | Five

- Little Big Surprise

Series Masterlist

wc: 3.3k

The house felt too empty, too quiet.

Isabella has been at her father's house for the past week and you missed her dearly. So, you had to find new hobbies to pass the time. You should've been used to the days she isn't home but you still aren't.

A new addition to your routine was your newfound hobby; watching Formula One races, or more so, watching Max race.

You would've been a fan even if you didn't know him personally, purely based on his driver skills, but that little detail made every moment of the race a tad bit more special. Your eyes would always try to find him on the track with the others, which he was in front of, leading.

You even found out that you could watch an on-board camera for a specific driver while watching the main race screen as well. It was very obvious whose camera feed you chose to watch.

This was the first time you watched the race after coming back from The Netherlands, mainly because it's only been a week since.

Though it wasn't fun watching the race without Isabella, or more like without her own added commentary.

Fortunately, Isabella's father would be dropping her off today. Until then, you had to find a way to pass the time.

Picking up your phone, your finger hovered over Max's contact. The last time you spoke was yesterday, when you congratulated him for the win over text.

You caught up on your pending work, meeting clients, writing up contracts, and even began designing the floor plans. One of the perks of working as a freelance interior designer, was that you could complete it at your own pace. The downside, however, was once you were done, you didn't really have anything else to do.

You worked for a few hours today, so your little break where you contemplated to call Max was well earned.

But before you could decide whether or not you wanted to call him, your phone rang with a call from him.

You quickly answered, greeting him with, "I was just about to call you, but I thought it'd be too late for you." You remembered that even though it was daytime for you, it was nighttime for him.

Max hummed, "too late? Oh wait, you're right, it's well past midnight." You furrowed your brow as his response confused you, but you didn't comment on it.

"So, what's up?" You asked, wanting to know why he called.

"You actually left something when you came to the race, and I kept forgetting to mention it, but I was thinking of sending it back to you as a package," Max explained, and you began to wonder what you had left behind.

"Yeah, sure that's fine, I actually have no idea when I'm going to see you again either." You shut your eyes tightly as you regretted the words as soon as you spoke them. "I mean—" you tried to explain but he cut you off, "I know what you mean and you're not wrong,"

You told him your address for the package, still wondering what you left behind, but dismissed the thought once you heard some noises on the other end. Specifically, noises that would indicate a person is outside, such as traffic.

"Max, are you outside?" You asked, wondering what he'd be doing out at this hour. "What no! Hold on, can I call you back in a bit?" He didn't wait for your response, just hung up the call.

You held your phone in front of you, looking at the dark screen as if it would give you any answers, but as excepted, it didn't. Then, you dropped the thought or at least tried to since Max did say he'll call you back.

You made yourself an iced coffee before falling into the depths of online shopping. Before you could decide on buying anything, the doorbell interrupted you.

"Max" you gasped as you opened the door, seeing him standing on the other side, holding a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. "Hi," he grinned, eyes taking in your presence since it had been too long since he last saw you.

"You lied about the package," you commented though there wasn't any malice behind your words. "Consider me as the thing you forgot?"

You chuckled at his words but it quickly became quiet as you finally realized that he was truly standing in front of you. "Please tell me you have a work thing here and you're just stopping by because you were in the area?"

"I could tell you that, but it would be a lie," he shrugged. You hesitated before asking the next question, "and the truth is?"

"I just wanted to see you and Isabella again." Either he didn't realize the weight behind his words or he chose to ignore it but you stood there, holding the door, in surprise.

"And now I'm realizing it probably wasn't a good idea to drop by without asking you," Max's words lacked confidence but you quickly shook your head. "No, it's just that you keep surprising me by standing on the other side of the door," then you smiled and added, "this time it happens to be in a different country."

Again, he shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, but if he was able to hear the thoughts running through your mind, he'd know that this was a big deal to you. In the best way possible.

"So, can I come in?" He asked, as he was just idly standing by the door. "Oh yes, sorry."

He passed the flowers to you once he was inside. "I didn't know which flowers you like, but this seemed fitting," he explained the reason behind the sunflowers.

You wanted to ask why, but you held back because in the few weeks you've known Max, he always manages to say something that leaves you speechless.

"It's perfect, thank you. I think I have a vase lying around somewhere." You found one in the back of a cabinet next to your kitchen, and started filling it with water.

Max stood across from you and commented, "that vase should never be left empty."

You chuckled, more at the thought of the vase being full than his words. "It has been empty more often than not."

Although it was just a simple back and forth conversation, Max made a mental note to try and never let it be empty for as long as he knows you. Which he hopes would be a long, long time.

Max looked around the house, noticing a lack of a little ball of energy. "Where's Isabella?"

"At Tyler's. He'll drop her off in about an hour." Once you set up the flowers, you paused, realizing you have to make lunch for Isabella but you didn't want Max to think that you didn't want him here.

"Everything okay?" He asked, always noticing everything. "Yeah, I have to make lunch for Isabella." You didn't know what reaction you expected but it definitely wasn't a laugh.

Max stepped closer to you, rounding the kitchen island that was in between you two. "If you think you have to entertain me as a guest, who by the way showed up unexpectedly, I'm going to think you don't consider me a friend."

You broke out into a smile, realizing that you overthought the small situation. "I do consider you a friend, otherwise I wouldn't have ranted on and on about my job."

"I will say though, if you're making lunch, I want some too," Max added with a sheepish smile. "Isabella's lunch entails a homemade pizza and fries—made with freshly cut potatoes—because that's all she wants to eat every time she comes home."

"Fair enough, let's make extras for all of us," Max began rolling up his sleeves and washed his hands in preparation.

You couldn't help but laugh, "Max, what are you doing?" He looked at you as if his actions were obvious, "I'm going to help you. Did you think I was going to let you make lunch all by yourself?"

There he goes, leaving you speechless. You shut your mouth because you couldn't find a response, and began taking out the ingredients. "Just a warning though, you're gonna have to tell me what to do because I'm not the best chef," Max stated.

"It's okay, you can be my assistant," you responded which made him raise his eyebrows, "assistant huh? I like the sound of that."

You paused, looking at him with a playful glower before both of you broke out into laughter.

You passed him the potatoes after rinsing them, tasking him to peel and cut into strips to make french fries.

Although he didn't notice, you might've stopped a few times while kneading the dough to look at him. Unbeknownst to you, he did the same when you weren't looking either.

"So does Isabella go to her dad's often?" Max asked after a moment of silence. "Sometimes it's every other week, other times it's only a weekend per month," you explained.

Max had loads of questions about Tyler, but he was content in knowing only what you were willing to tell him. This time, you didn't continue the conversation about your ex, and Max understood that you didn't want to talk about it.

The topic was forgotten as soon as you accidentally smeared pizza sauce across your face. You truly had no idea how it got there, but only realized when Max brushed his fingers against your cheek to wipe it away.

However, he only smeared it further. He couldn't control his laughter as it spread and that prompted you to wipe it from your cheek and smear it on his.

He glared at you but it only lasted a millisecond as he grabbed a handful of dry flour. "Max," you warned, stepping backwards in an attempt to get away from him.

You didn't get far as his arm found its away around your waist to pull you back and hold you still. Then, he dumped the flour on your face, adding to the remnants of the sauce.

Your hands pressed against his chest to push him away but it was a useless attempt since he had you cornered against the counter so you had nowhere to go.

You spluttered since a bit of the flour got in your mouth and Max laughed at you. Then, you did the only thing you could think of. Grabbing Max's face, you rubbed your cheek dusted with flour and sauce against his. Now it was even.

Once the laughter died down, both of you noticed how close you were standing. Max couldn't back away because of your palms on his cheek and on the nape of his neck.

Your eyes widened slightly at the realization and you quickly dropped your hands so he could move. Max took a second too long to process that you weren't holding him anymore, before he created more space between you two.

Then, you noticed the time, "shit she'll be here in twenty minutes."

"You should go change, I'll take care of the rest," Max suggested and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "you're going to take care of it?"

He nodded like it wasn't a big deal. "You're the one who said you're not a good chef," you spoke with a teasing smile.

"I said I'm not the best chef, I can be a good chef," he reasoned and you couldn't argue with that logic. "Fine, as long as you don't burn my house down."

"I'll try," you heard him as you went upstairs to your room.

"He got me flowers," you muttered to yourself as you picked out a clean outfit. "He fucking got me flowers." The realization hit you hard, more so because you loved sunflowers, and he just happened to randomly guess the right bouquet. Which was something your ex could never do right even after you told him, mainly because he preferred roses and only bought you roses.

"It seemed fitting," you repeated his words, "Max, why do you have to be so nice?" You asked rhetorically as of course he wasn't there to answer.

You hurriedly went downstairs after washing up and changing to see whether Max had done anything wrong. Perhaps if he was a lousy chef, you'd have one complaint about him. So far, you have liked everything about him.

Fortunately, nothing smelt burnt, and nothing was broken. When you spotted him, he was frying the French fries.

You paused in your tracks, and took a good look at him so you could remember this moment later. Max looked very comfortable in your kitchen, in your house, as if it wasn't his first time. You hoped it wouldn't be the last.

"Looks like everything's fine here," you commented and he turned to look at you with a smile, "no burnt houses," he shrugged.

"The pizza still has a few minutes to go, and the fries are all done," he spoke as he gestured with his hands, but when he looked at you again, you had a stupid smile on your face.

"What?" That made your smile widen, "nothing, just, thank you for helping me."

"Always," he responded, already planning that he'll be around as long as you wanted him to be.

The doorbell rang, interrupting your peace but you were beyond excited to open the door and greet your daughter. Isabella definitely got the habit of being overly excited from you.

However, when you opened the door you saw Isabella standing beside Tyler with a frown on her face. "Hi angel, did you have fun?" You crouched down and ruffled her hair.

"Can I go inside, mama?" Her timid voice surprised you as she would usually answer that question happily. "Sure, sweetheart, I'll be there in a minute."

You watched her head inside before you stood up, closing the door behind you so Isabella wouldn't hear your conversation and faced your ex, "what happened?"

He scoffed, "nothing happened, I just told her that I won't be able to see her again as planned because I'm flying out of the country."

"Another business trip?" You asked and he nodded. "She usually doesn't get this upset any other time you cancel, did something else happen?"

"You know how she is, overdramatic," Tyler casually shrugged and that word ticked you off. "Don't you dare call my daughter overdramatic," you pointed at him harshly.

"Oh so now she's your daughter? Isabella gets upset easily, you know this."

"I do not want to hear you say that word again to describe her, I've heard it enough from you when we were together. Now tell me what happened."

Tyler sighed, and for a moment he thought about saying that Isabella was just like her mother, like you, but he didn't want to waste any extra time being around you.

"I introduced her to Emma," he stated as if it would explain everything but you furrowed your brows in confusion. "Who?"

"My girlfriend. Isabella noticed her around the house a few times so I thought it would be a good idea to introduce her," he explained and you were about to interrupt but he kept going. "I don't know if Isabella doesn't like her, but she's been in that mood ever since."

"Tyler, she has only seen us together, so of course if you introduce her to someone else, it'll take time for her to get used to it," you decided to explain in a calm manner.

"You don't have an issue with my girlfriend?" He asked and you raised your brows, "why would I? It's not my business unless it involves Isabella."

He shrugged, then laughed at his thought before saying it out loud, "well I hope that you don't have an issue explaining dating to her, that is, if you ever start dating again."

"My dating life is none of your business. Don't you have somewhere to be? Perhaps back to Emma?"

"Alright, I'll text you when I'm back in the country," he stated and turned around to leave but paused as he saw a new car in the driveway that he knew didn't belong to you.

"Whose car is that?" You laughed at his need to always be all up in your business, "goodbye, Tyler."

You entered the house with a sigh but the sight in front of you warmed your heart, making you forget all about the conversation with your ex.

Max was crouched down onto his knees to be at eye level with Isabella, who had two arms wrapped around his neck in a tight hug.

When Max heard the door close, he opened his eyes and saw you. He removed one hand that was resting on Isabella's back and gestured for you to come closer.

Understanding his silent gesture, you crouched down right behind your daughter and wrapped her in a hug as well, so she was sandwiched between you and Max.

You placed loads of kisses on her cheeks until she started giggling. Isabella let go of Max and turned to face you, "mama, you didn't tell me that Maxy was here!" Just like that, her mood was drastically different from when she first arrived at the doorstep.

"He surprised me too, angel," you spoke as your gaze shifted to Max.

"Did you watch him race yesterday?" You asked Isabella, but her mood dropped again. "No mama, daddy was busy."

"It's okay, you can watch the next one with your mama," Max spoke, and Isabella nodded in agreement. "Okay!"

Then Max gasped, "the pizza!" He quickly rushed towards the oven to check on it, making you and Isabella laugh.

"Maxy made pizza?" She asked as she sat up on one of the barstools, which also happens to be her favourite place to eat even if you have a dining table.

"Maxy and mama made pizza," Max corrected, as he watched you cut it into slices.

"Are you ready for school?" Max asked once all of you began eating. You and Max also sat up on the barstools beside Isabella.

"No." She simply stated. Max frowned, "why not?"

"It's a big school, it's scary." Her words made you frown, "but you're a big girl too now."

"How about we go shopping tomorrow? Buy a new bag, more school supplies, and anything you want," Max suggested and this time you didn't stop him.

You already had a plan to take her shopping tomorrow, mainly because you already knew that Tyler didn't or else she would’ve been beaming about it.

"Even the glittery clips?" Isabella asks with a bright smile on her face, making Max chuckle, "yes even the glittery clips"

"Oh what about ice cream?" Isabella asked, and this time you watched Max become the victim of her pout and big round eyes. He looked at you for help, but you pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh.

"Yes, we can get ice cream too," he gave in making Isabella cheer.

"Alright, angel, finish your food." You gestured to her plate and she quickly obliged, stuffing her face with pizza and fries.

You were glad that Max was here, able to instantly uplift Isabella's mood. However you couldn't help but think about Tyler's words.

You never thought about dating again ever since you broke up with your ex, especially since Isabella was a baby and almost always with you.

But now that she was older, beginning to understand relationships, you thought about her reaction if you ever introduced her to someone you wanted to date.

Plus, you never met anyone that would make you debate the decision of whether to start dating again or not, that was until you met Max.

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy

#little big fan fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #thef1diary fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #fluff #f1 fluff

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littlelordfuckler0y · 3 months

Text

Felix catton x reader Instagram au

yourusername if I can’t Oppenheimer my way out of this sem, I’ll Oppenheimer my way out

yourfriend NO LMFAO not the green apple 😭

yourusername was held hostage at the lab today

yourfriend you mean had to prepare a lab report right there?

yourusername had to perform the experiment three times.

yourfriend I support the green apple

fel1xcatt0n Pub tonight. See you?

yourusername I’ll try to make it but I think lab’s gonna run late…you guys carry on tho :)

Sun casted a bright yellow hue from the grass to the glass, making the general weather warmer than usual. Walking alongside her friend y/n was somewhat surprised to see the notification of felix’s comment pop up, voluntarily inviting her to the pub, again. Quite the modern day tragedy it felt like to have to decline it because their labs ran very late. But regardless it was surprising to say at the very least, “We just had drinks with his friends once and he’s inviting us again?” She said as she showed her friend the notification.

“Woah.” Her friend said as they looked at the notification and smiled “well, inviting you but this is-this is cool?”

“You and I are a package deal so inviting me is inviting you.” Y/n said as their friend stared at the comment and the reply, they were analysing the interaction.

“Oh okay yes” they nodded “Also when did he start following you?”

“Okay so we had drinks two days ago right? I think, that night, but it was after I returned to my dorm and I don’t remember exchanging socials.” Y/n said as she went through their interaction from drinks that night.

Her friend tilted their head raising brows, “oh so he looked you up. Plus your account’s open and he still commented? Wow.” They implied in a surprised yet elated tone.

“Wait-what? What do you mean by open account? Almost everyone has open accounts?” Y/n stated confused with a shrug.

“Yeah and anyone can see his comment on YOUR page. So he wasn’t embarrassed to comment now that’s the outlook.”

“Why would he be embarrassed to comment?” Y/n said as she looked at her friend in somewhat the offended tone.

“Are you serious? You have 79 followers.” Her friend said giving her a tight smile to comfort her through their brutal honestly.

“Exactly. Even the serving lady follows me. I get along with everybody.” She stood her ground with an obvious shrug.

“Do you hear yourself? Do you want to repeat that first sentence?” Her friend asked her with a sigh as y/n contemplated that. She needed the serving lady’s follow to reach upto 79 followers as social as it may seem. “Also, don’t forget how we got drinks with him and his friends in the first place.”

“Oh” she said nodding, “We were getting alcohol for lab work on a weekend, wow, yeah I see it now…”

“But. Come on. He commented.” Her friend said pointing her phone screen which still had her comment section open like a textbook.

“Him and his friends most definitely thinks we’re the coolest.” Y/n added regaining her optimism.

“Well…” her friend trailed off not wanting to dampen the enthusiasm “I like how you positive you are.”

“I wish we didn’t have lab today” She whined and rested her head on the lab table.

yourusername ideal study session

fel1xcatt0n can’t believe you never tried the Chinese place around the corner…

yourusername Sorry to break it to you but it is not crime

fel1xcatt0n literally is.

yourfriend ^^it is a crime

“So you ditched us to get Chinese last night?” Farleigh asked raising a sharp brow as he’d scroll through his phone and stumbled upon a certain post.

“How’d you know?” Felix asked as he turned in his chair to look at farleigh.

“Y/n has the dumbest social media presence” Farleigh stated as she scrolled through her previous posts “I mean all her posts are some ugly project model and if not that it’s some random cats?”

“Oh yeah it was a last minute plan-to get Chinese whatever…” felix trailed off with a sigh.

“What is this girl doing? She is too pretty to post stupid jokes and labs god” Farleigh complaint as he went through y/n’s posts. “2 likes on each post yeah, you’ve got to give it to her dedication to document everything.” He scoffed.

“Can you stop stalking her?” Felix urged rolling his eyes.

“Oh I’m stalking her?” Farleigh asked tilting her head. “I know you just out of curiosity asked around for the D wing lab timings and you just happened to be there by the end of her lecture yes sure” with not much reply felix just threw a pillow at farleigh which he happened to dodge.

Fel1xcatt0n local pen and paper girl in her natural habitat

yourusername LMFAO

yourusername didn’t see you click this one

Fel1xcatt0n ;)

farleigh_start you are not subtle.

Fel1xcatt0n thank you for your input

yourusername at that point in semester when breadboard starts looking like bread

farleigh_start why do stem majors follow diet culture the ugly way ew

yourusername I’m not dieting????

farleigh_start then why does your charcuterie board look so ugly

yourusername never mind…

yourfriend LITERALLY I was thinking the same thing

yourusername “what happened to your group project” well…professor…we got hungry

Fel1xcatt0n this is not funny

yourusername ouch.

Fel1xcatt0n be there in 5

Fel1xcatt0n healthiest thing she’s had in decades…

yourusername thanks MOM

Fel1xcatt0n laugh all you want but you can’t live on sugar donuts and ramen

yourusername try me

farleigh_start …

farleigh_start you have never passed me the table salt

—

I really like this and I’d like to do more parts but it feels pretty stupid idk if I’ll do more parts pls let me know what you think <3

DRINK WATER AND HIIII ILY

requests are open go nuts!!

#instagram au #felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x fem! reader #felix catton fanfic #Felix catton Instagram au #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi x you #jacob elordi x y/n #jacob elordi x reader Instagram au

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dilfl0v3rss · 10 months

Note

Omg plug Connie and him teaching his suburban princess his ways😩😮‍💨

here we gooooo🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

“wake up fat butt. taking you t’school today.” connie mumbled, tapping your ass lightly until you opened your eyes. you gave your boyfriend a death stare as you sat up and scratched your head. bonnet nowhere to be found as you were previously sleeping peaceful in your boyfriends tee shirt. “what?” “you wanted to learn more about what i do so you gon be my partner for the day since ony at his family renunion.”

your brown doe eyes widened in excitement as you hugged your boyfriends lower half from the bed. cheek pressed against his print in his boxers as you mumbled a bunch of “thank yous”. you’ve been begging connie for weeks to show you more of what he does, but he’d always tell you he didn’t want you in that type of work. it took a little convincing,but he finally agreed after you did some “handiwork” a handjob. now you’re here, learning your first lesson.

lesson one: weighing and packaging the weed

“no no no mami you gotta weigh it before you bag ittt” connie sighed as he turned the bag of weed upside down. letting the herb fall back onto table. “i did connn. the thingy had a three and a five before i put it in the baggy” long acrylic nail pointing to the small scale as you whined to your boyfriend. “three point five princesa ay dios mío. the ‘thingy’ gotta have a dot in between the three and the five.”

your eyes widened as you realized your mistake. “ohhhh okay okay okay. lemme try again” you began picking up the pieces of weed and placing them on the scale. watching carefully until the desired weight showed before putting them in the pretty pink bag and sealing it up. “doneee!” connie lifted his head from his phone, taking the small baggy from your hands before he turned it left and right.

he looked closely for any mistakes with the packaging, but he found none. it was “perfect baby. good job” connie rewarded with you a kiss on the forehead before handing you another bag. “now you got about forty more to do and you gon go mobile wit me.” connie chuckled at your loud gasp as you smiled to your yourself. “wanna shoot your gun” you mumbled as you continued weighing another pile. “whatchu say?” “huh? nothing papa. m’working”

lesson two: selling the product

his lips curved into a smile as he watched you hum your favorite song. brown eyes studying the nature outside the passenger window while your pretty fingers stroked connie hand that was on your thigh. connie’s first group of clients were college students. usually needed a quick blunt in the morning to calm their nerves before their day starts. as he approached his usual parking spot for selling, he let go of your thigh to lay his glock on his lap. “got my princess wit me so i gotta be extra careful”

his words made your stomach flip as you looked at the weapon laid on his sweatpants. “can you teach me how t’shoot it?” your eyes widened in hope as you watched your boyfriend tilt his head back, thinking of whether or not he should teach you. it would be good for you to protect yourself, but with him almost always around you would rarely need to. plus if you weren’t with him, you were with friends so you’ll never really be alone. “i’ll think about it ma” he mumbled before nodding his head towards your window.

you didn’t get the chance to dwell on his words as you watched the college boy, probably from some type of fraternity, walking towards the car. hat on backwards, covering his blonde hair while his shirt sat way too tight on his chest. his khaki shorts rested evenly on his hips as he shamelessly tried to look all up in connie’s window. “c dawgggg. wassup man?” connie rolled his eyes, already annoyed with the loud mouthed man at his window. connie nodded his head while saying hey before asking what it was the guy needed. "since im throwing tonight ima need a zip. finals been kicked everyone's ass and now that they're over, it's time to celebrate!”

connie turned towards you, eyeing your figure in your pretty skirt before a smirk planted on his lips. "you heard em mama" you nodded your head before reaching into the backseat for your boyfriends heavy duffel bag full of drugs. connie watched your skirt begin to ride up your ass so he made sure to block the guys view with his body until you finished. you sat the bag in your lap, digging through the different packages of weed until you found two bags. one was a little smaller than the other which confused you because you forgot if an ounce was the larger size or the smaller one. "uhhhh im kinda in a rush" the boy said before connie gave him a deadly stare, signaling for him to shut the fuck up.

you lifted your head up expecting to see the impatient client, but connie blocked your view with his head, giving you a calm smile and a nod for you to take your time. "i-i don't remember which one it is." he rested his hand on your lap. "think ma. if you get it right i'll buy you a new bag." your eyes lit up at the offer. you began to think back to when you were packaging the weed at the house, eventually handing him the larger bag. connie smiled as he lightly took it from your pretty hands. he held his hand out to the guy, waiting for him to pay up. after he paid connie handed him the bag.

"uhh why’s it pink..” connie rolled his eyes in irritation. why can’t he just take the weed and go. “my partner worked hard weighing and baggin that shit. this her product and you gon cop it and be happy wit it, you heard?” the guy lifted his hands in his defense before giving connie a nervous smile. “alright a-alright man thanks. t-tell your new partner i said thanks too." connie rolled up his window before turning towards you. “how i do papi?” your pretty smile making butterflies appear in his stomach before he leaned over and to give you a sloppy kiss on the lips. "did good mama. we gon stay here for a little bit then go to my other stops for my other clients ‘kay?” connie smiled as he watched you excitedly nod your head. lip tucked behind your teeth as you mindlessly played on your phone.

lesson three: counting and distributing the money

after the two of you finished, connie took you to your final destination before taking you home, the trap house. the smell of weed was pungent as you walked deeper and deeper in, stopping when you seen him take a seat at the dining room table. “come” he said while patting his lap. you sat down without complaint before connie pulled out a a couple stacks of cash. the two of you sold to a lot of people, but you weren’t really paying attention much to how much they were paying, only really worrying about giving the right size baggy. it must’ve been a really good day though because by the time you finished every single bag was sold. he had some good shit.

“you made all this in one dayyyy?” brown eyes wide as you stared at the bills in disbelief. connie’s arm tightened around your middle before he chuckled. “not just me mami” before you knew it your boyfriend separated the stacks evenly, sliding the other half in front of you before beginning to count the money he had left. “gon head pretty. count your cut” you eagerly took the money, long nails clanking together as you tried to quickly count the different bills. “what’s the third one for?” you eyed the third pile of money that sat next to connie. it looked about the same size as the both of yours. “my brother”

before you could speak the sound of a loud engine approaching the house cut you off. then in walked your boyfriend’s “brother” ony. a bag holding four to go plates in his hand as he typed away on his phone. “i know m’hella late gettin here” he mumbled as he mindlessly kicked the door closed behind him. he hasn’t looked up at you yet, still focused on his phone so he kept speaking as if you weren’t there. “just got the meanest head from kiki. swear that woman could suck a watermelon through a straw. had to block her tho cause i can’t be cuffing no bitch that be aight wit sucking dick in my granny room. nasty lil th-”

he finally looked up from his screen, eyes widening in shock as he looked at you and connie giggling in the dining room. “man why you ain’t tell me you brought her hereeee” he fake whined as he walked up to the two of you. giving you a peck on the cheek before dapping connie up. you raised your eyebrow at him before connie replied. “this why she wont let you get a date wit her sister bro” connie chuckled as he watched ony place his hand on his heart. ony had been asking you for months to set up a date with him and your sister, but you tell him all the time that you’d never willingly put any woman in your family through that, knowing his promiscuous lifestyle.

“sis i swear ima good man. if she ever text me back the rest of them girls gettin dropped on god.” you rolled your eyes, playfully scoffing before you caught sight of the stack of money that was for him. “yea whateverrrr” you said before nodding your head towards the money. “shit, thank you ma. this yours hermano” connie grabbed the stack and handed it to ony before also sliding him the empty duffle bag for him to fill with new product. “good looks. so how was it suge? like being a lil plug?”

you smiled as you shrugged your shoulders. mind wandering to the multiple events that went on today. “hmmm it was aight. i liked packing the weed up. oh and connie let me use pretty pink bags to put them innn.” connie smiled up at you, tickling your side before nodding his head towards the white bag ony placed on the table. “hope one of them plates is for me. if you can’t break bread you fake” ony chuckled before opening up the bag and handing him two of the plates. “got two plates of food and two plates of sweet shit that nanna made. ian know you was coming sis but you know i would’ve got you one.” you shrugged your shoulders before getting up from connie’s lap, taking the plate of food towards the microwave for him.

“it’s good connie gon share” your boyfriend shook his head at you. mumbling to himself as pulled out his phone. “cant have shit in this house” him and ony began to chuckle as your face turn into one of annoyance. you walked back towards him. swiftly plucking connie on the back of the head before laying his plate in front of him. “ay! mujer loca” he said while rubbing his “sore” head. ony continued to laugh while he walked towards the kitchen to heat up his food next. “hurry up and get married so i can get a niece. wanna take her t’disney and buy her dolls and shit.”

ony refused to even think about having kids of his own unless it was with the right woman. and since he doesn’t feel like he’s found her yet he plans on living his dream of spoiling a little princess through you and connie. the two of you laughed before waiting for him to sit back down with his plate so you can eat as a “family”. when he finally sat down, he immediately started rolling his eyes. “y’all laughing, but m’dead serious. have my niece” you playfully slapped his arm before beginning to eat your food. “don’t got time for kids right now. i’m a big time drug dealer.” connie nearly choked on his food when he heard your words, making the three of you laugh as you continued to eat together.

“just for today mami. tomorrow you my suburban princess again”

#aot x black reader #aot #aot connie #connie springer #x black reader #connie x black!reader #connie x black reader #connie springer x black!reader #connie springer x black reader #connie x y/n #connie x black y/n

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bluecollarmcandtf · 3 months

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I'm so annoyed, my best friend has such an asshole for a husband. He basically never pays attention to her, all he cares about sport, beer and his friends. He never helps around the house and he's a lazy slob! He's always at the gym or going to the game with his bros. He's such a prick, maybe he should just be date his bros since he's so obsessed with them. He's always complaining about his wife "bothering him". Plus who would want to marry a slob anyway, as a husband he should be devoted to cleaning his house and caring about who he is married to.

I think I found the guy you're talking about, and you're totally right about him being an asshole. Your friend deserves better than an uncaring, selfish, pig-of-a-husband. That girl has tolerated him for too long! She won't be seeing him or his sexist buddies ever again when I'm done here...

Just look at him! The first thing he does when he gets home is grab a beer and park that fat ass of his on the couch. Sure, he might hit the gym later on his way to the bar, but he's not planning on helping his wife out with dinner. He's not really planning on talking to her at all until he needs a blow job later tonight.

You mentioned his name was Brett, I think?

Well, Brett can barely hold a job. He's lucky you gave him a chance and got him a gig as a delivery man. I think he's been doing this for a month now, but he absolutely resents the work. Brett can't really enjoy anything unless he has a beer in his hand, and he absolutely hates wearing that stuffy little uniform.

Nevertheless, he's been consistently showing up so far; probably because his wife is waking him up, washing his clothes, and feeding him breakfast. Brett essentially only uses her as a maid and sex toy!

It's a good thing I've got something planned for Brett today as he starts his delivery rounds. He doesn't notice me following as he grumpily carries a package out of his truck, and he doesn't have time to react when I reach out and grab the back of his head.

"You're not going to move," I command, sinking my fingers into the soft parts of his skull, "You're going to let me in."

A deep sigh blows out of Brett's mouth, and I know his willpower is gone. "I'm not going to move. I'll let you in..." he repeats numbly.

With permission, I shoot inside his mind, discovering much of what I expected. His thoughts revolve around meeting up with his bros after work. He hasn't genuinely cared to think about his wife in ages. His mind is just as simple and unlikeable as he is.

Good thing I'm here to change it!

"Brett, I'm changing your thoughts. You like that. You want me to rewrite you."

"You're..." he struggles to form words, "You're changing my thoughts. I like that. I want you to rewrite me..."

"Good," I grin maliciously.

Bringing my lips closer to his ear, I begin to fill his head with his new personality. He accepts all his new goals and dreams wholeheartedly. I imagine, you will like them. They're the ones you asked for...

Done for now, I pull out of his mind, whipping Brett back into consciousness! He gasps for air as he regains his senses, but then something overtakes him. He's taken off running down the street!

I follow behind, knowing exactly where he'll end up. I must say that I enjoy watching his thick ass jogging away in those tight brown shorts. He's a lot more muscular than I gave him credit for.

I'm sure his new husband will enjoy that body of his too.

Brett sprints several blocks and runs straight up to a house at the end of the street. It's the home of one of his football buddies. I think his name might be Axel or Alex or something. I'm not sure.

Anyways, Brett bangs on the door, panting like a dog. When the door is finally opened, he wastes no time. Brett pulls his bro in for the long passionate kiss he's been waiting for.

"Dude?" his friend mumbles as their lips part, "What are you doing?"

Little does he know that I already hypnotized him, too. He's going to accept everything Brett does like it's what he's wanted all along.

"Axel! Man, I love you!" Brett moans, pulling his football buddy in closer, "I want you to marry me. I'll quit my job and be your housewife. I'll be better at that! And you can boss me around and use me however you want, bro! I mean everything; cooking, cleaning, everything!"

"Woah, dude! That's a lot to take in," he hesitates, but already his mind is giving in, "But yeah. I like the sound of that. Being my wife means more than just cooking and cleaning though."

Brett looks at his new love earnestly. Meanwhile, Axel straightens up and crosses his arms to look rough.

"It means pleasure, whenever I want it and wherever I want it. It means you only get to watch the football games in between you serving me and my friends. By the way, they're just my friends now. Got it, dude?"

"Yeah," Brett whines, "Just let me start now!"

Axel smirks and pulls his new house husband into the house, giving him a possessive slap on the butt as they pass over the threshold.

"Alright, bitch. I'm gonna treat you just as bad as you did that old girl of yours."

"Who?" Brett asks out of genuine confusion, but he's already brushed off the comment and dropped to his knees.

"I don't know. Don't care either," Axel sneers, "Just get started. Haven't blown a load all day."

The faint sound of repetitive gagging echoes out of the house as the front door slams shut. It seems like my work here is done.

The football gang will enjoy having a very willing bro to take care of all their needs, and Brett will do it with a genuine smile on his face. That friend of yours is a free woman, so I suggest she find something fulfilling to do with her life. Brett may be trapped in another marriage, but she sure as hell isn't!

Hope you liked how I handled your problem!

#gay hypnosis #hypno story #male mind control

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dustofthedailylife · 4 months

Text

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Diluc x (gn!) Reader

Summary: The Christmas season is rolling around and you spend those days with the one you love most. How are you spending it?

Tags: Fluff, comfort, kissing, teasing, consumption of (reasonable amounts of) alcohol

A/N: this is my secret santa gift for @jellalism for the @2023gisecretsanta event! (Hi, it me again :3). Once again I hope you have a merry Christmas and a wonderful holiday season. Sending you many hugs and I hope these fics make your holiday season a little brighter! <3

WRIOTHESLEY

It was a cold day in Fontaine and Christmas wasn’t far off. Just a little over a week and you’d be able to spend your first holiday together with Wriothesley. You already bought all the Christmas presents and had your bags packed to spend Christmas over at his place.

The presents still sat neatly packaged below the beautifully decorated Christmas tree in your living room. But they wouldn’t stay there for much longer as you had agreed to come over today and stay until Christmas. So the presents needed to be relocated as well.

You were beyond ecstatic to finally see him again. Especially since he even took some time off work as well to spend it with you.

Loaded with your bags and gifts you enthusiastically knocked on his door and it was soon opened by the man himself. He was wearing a cozy hoodie and sweatpants and looked like he had just woken up from a nap. At least judging by the pillow imprint on his cheek.

Cute, you thought.

“Hi, sleepy head. Enjoying your time off?” You greeted him teasingly, pressing a quick peck to his lips before squeezing inside past him.

You quickly kicked off your shoes and impatiently waddled behind him, following him into the living room. You were curious to see how Wriothesley had decorated his home for the holidays, so when his back left your field of view and you could finally see the room you saw…

Nothing.

Not even a single Christmas light could be found in his house. There was no Christmas tree, no Christmas cookies on the coffee table, no cozy candles, no ornaments or stockings, no nothing.

“Do you want a cup of tea?”, Wriothesley asked, gently taking your face in between his big warm hands.

“Uuuh…”

Your initial smile faltered pretty much immediately after you had taken in the utterly unfestive atmosphere and he seemed to have immediately noticed it, too.

“Is something wrong?” He inquired with a hint of concern in his voice.

“Where is the Christmas decoration?” You asked baffled. “You know Christmas is only a couple of days away, right?”

Now it was his turn to usher an awkward ‘uuuh’. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, scanning the room, before apologetically looking back at you with an expression that said ‘Sorry, it slipped my mind’.

“Well, uhm.. To be frank, I’m rarely ever here over the holidays so I don’t really… own any Christmas decorations.” He explained with a shrug and donned an embarrassed smile and scratched the back of his head. “Neither have I ever celebrated Christmas properly since I usually just work.”

“No no. This absolutely won’t do.” You lifted your finger up to his face in playful protest. “Go put on some clothes, we’re going shopping. We’re absolutely not celebrating Christmas before every nook and cranny in this house is looking festive and is covered in glitter.” You announced with determination, already marching towards the main entrance again to put your shoes back on.

“Right now?” He inquired in surprise.

“Right now.” You quickly confirmed. “And I pick the decorations – you pay.” You declared, putting your hands on your hips while glaring at him reprimandingly.

“Hey, wait a second! I never agreed to that.” He protested weakly, crossing his arms over his chest. But his smirk betrayed his real thoughts – he was enjoying this playful banter as much as you were.

“Well, too bad. You don’t get a say in this. Now come on, shopping time.”

Not even half an hour later and wrapped in your warm winter clothes, you found yourselves walking along the streets of Fontaine. It had already gone dark and a couple of snowflakes danced in the yellow light of the street lanterns. The shops by the road were all decorated with an abundance of Christmas lights and the air carried the fragrant smell of cinnamon and mulled wine.

You looked up to Wriothesley, who was walking hand in hand with you, while window shopping. When he noticed your glance his lips curled into a loving smile that was barely visible behind the gigantic red scarf that he had wrapped around his neck. His cheeks and nose were reddened by the cold and the snowflakes that got caught in his hair only emphasized how adorable he looked.

You dragged him into some stores that you knew sold various knick-knacks and decorations and bought what felt like an entire month’s salary worth of Christmas decorations. Although, despite all that, he somehow still managed to leave more money at his trusted tea store on the way back home.

Back at his house you quickly unpacked everything that you bought and got to work. While Wriothesley put up the Christmas tree you made sure not a single curtain rod, windowsill, and table was without any Christmas lights or candles. As soon as that was done you helped him put the red and gold glass ornaments on the tree.

All that was missing now was the big golden star tree topper that you attempted to hand to him, so that he could put it up on the tree himself. But before you had any chance to do so, he had already snuck both of his muscular arms around your waist and hoisted you up so you could stick it on yourself.

Once back on steady ground you looked around and marveled at your finished work. Everything was enveloped by a cozy light from all the Christmas lights and it looked even better than you had imagined. This would definitely do!

“I think we got everything.” You announced cheerfully, leaning your head against his broad chest and glancing at the tree to your left.

“Hmm.” Wriothesley hummed contemplatively, his chest vibrating against your ear as he did. “I think one thing is still missing.”

“Huh? What did we miss?” You lifted your head with a questioningly raised brow.

He fumbled around behind his back with a mischievous smirk plastered across his face. You knew that expression all too well by now – he was up to something.

You watched as he pulled out a little green twig with a red ribbon. You were barely even able to identify it as a mistletoe before he had already lifted it up into the air and held it over both of your heads. His free hand quickly found comfort around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Within the blink of an eye, his lips sealed yours with a passionate kiss, knocking the breath right out of you. You leaned into him with a giggle and felt him smile into the kiss in return.

In an attempt to be even closer to him than you already were, your hand found comfort in his soft raven-colored hair. Reciprocating the sentiment, he snaked the arm he had held up over you around your midriff as well, hugging you impossibly tighter.

While leaning his forehead against yours and softly rubbing the tip of your noses together, he looked deep into your eyes with the same sly smirk he had donned earlier, before proudly declaring: “Now we’ve got everything.”

ALHAITHAM

With packed suitcases, you and Alhaitham crossed the bridge to your hometown Mondstadt. It was snowing heavily and the cold, biting wind was gnawing away at every sliver of exposed skin. It felt like icy needles were pricking at your face.

It was peacefully quiet and all that could be heard was the crunch of the thick snow below your boots. You watched how the snowflakes danced in the wind and how they got caught in the ashen hair and lashes of Alhaitham, who was walking by your side.

Looking at him in this kind of weather was almost comical. He was used to the humid and hot temperatures of the rainforest and had never really experienced the bitter cold of winter. He was treading carefully, trying his hardest not to slip on the frozen ground. His head was almost entirely hidden underneath the big wool scarf he had wrapped around his head as if he had tried to mummify himself with it. His nose and cheeks were reddened from the cold and you could faintly make out the chatter of his teeth.

It would almost be adorable if he didn’t have the expression of someone who was about to murder the next person who spoke to him.

You bit your tongue to hold back a teasing comment about how he couldn’t handle the cold and instead opted to hold onto his hand that was rather stiffly dangling by his side. He glanced at you over the mountain of a scarf he had wrapped around his neck and immediately saw his expression ease up a little. His brows relaxed became less furrowed and the corners of his mouth twitched upward ever so slightly.

“We’re almost there.” You reassured, which was only met with a slightly grumpy-sounding hum of acknowledgment.

Not long after you arrived at the Tavern. You picked up your room keys and quickly shuffled upstairs to settle down.

Alhaitham quickly kicked off his boots once he sat on the bed and hissed in pain. His toes were borderline glowing in red and blue hues and he wasn’t wearing any socks either. Needless to say, he was wearing his usual boots with the hole at the top. Clearly, everyone could see that they weren’t fit for conditions like these whatsoever.

“You know, these boots are kind of impractical for this weather.” You remarked snarkily. And if looks could kill you would’ve dropped dead on the spot right now.

“Don’t look at me like that!” You shot back before he could usher a word of protest. “You agreed to spend the holidays in Mondstadt after all.”

“And you didn’t think to inform me about all that before we departed?”

“Well, I thought a smart man like you would know that when I said there would be snow in Mondstadt you would naturally conclude that ‘frozen water equals cold’” You remarked in the same snarky tone.

You both looked at each other for a couple of seconds in an intense staring battle. The frown prominent on Alhaitham’s face as he desperately tried to warm his feet with his warm hands. Although eventually, your pokerfaces started showing cracks. The twinkle that started to show in both of your eyes, a twitch of the corner of his mouth, a giggle that was stuck at the back of your throat that you tried to swallow. All of them were telltale signs that your playful argument was about to end in a fit of chuckles, like so often.

And as if on call, you both started laughing out loud at the same moment.

Alhaitham pulled you closer by your hands and you sat down on his lap, facing in his direction. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and slung your arms around him, which he mirrored.

“You’re stupid.” You exclaimed, pressing a quick peck on the exposed skin on his neck.

“Oh, am I now?” He retorted smugly, raising one eyebrow.

“Well, I’m not the one who wore boots with gaping holes in them when there are five inches of snow outsi–” Before you were able to finish the sentence, he quickly began loosely wrapping his thick scarf around your face, effectively shutting you up.

“Rude.” You giggled, muffled by the thick fabric. “Now–” You began, once you had pulled his scarf off your face again. “How about we take a hot bath and then go and visit the Christmas market?”

You could see his eyes wander towards the window. He skeptically eyed the thick snowflakes that were still falling from the sky. Anyone would be able to tell that he really didn’t want to go outside anymore, at least not in this weather.

“I know it’s freezing, but – if we go out, we can go buy you a pair of warm boots and I also know just the thing to fight the cold.” You intercepted before he could usher any words of protest. And after a brief moment of hesitation, he agreed with a loving smile.

After a steaming hot bath, you both found yourself back outside again. Not long after Alhaitham also waded through the thick snow with his newly acquired cozy and warm leather boots and some additional heat-insulating wool socks. He already looked a lot more comfortable than he had when you arrived here.

You walked in the direction of the Christmas market that was being held at the feet of the statue of the Anemo Archon, in front of the cathedral.

Hand in hand you climbed the stairs up to the plaza. You could already make out the Christmas spices that wafted through the air before you could even see the first booth. And with every step you took your excitement got bigger and bigger. Your heart was thumping loudly inside of your chest and you felt an excited prickle in the pit of your stomach. The last time you were at a Christmas market was ages ago, so you were practically bursting with excitement.

Once you arrived at the top of the stairs, you headed straight for the stand of the Dawn Winery, dragging Alhaitham along with you excitedly. You could already make out the prominent scent of mulled wine and several other hot beverages. No matter how cold the winter was, a cup of mulled wine was always the best thing to warm one up from the inside out.

You bought two mugs of steaming hot spiced dandelion wine and handed one to Alhaitham. He skeptically took a sip, unsure about whether or not hot wine would taste as good as the stuff he was so used to. But when his eyes widened and a surprised hum escaped him you could only chuckle. You had expected this reaction.

“You didn’t lie, this really helps against the cold.” He remarked after taking a couple more sips from his mug.

“See! I told you so. And as you know, I’m always right.” You teased, to which he just rolled his eyes and huffed amusedly. “Don’t you dare say anything now, Haitham.”

He stepped closer to you, embracing you in a tight hug and pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

“You know, you’re lucky you’re so cute, or else–”, he paused dramatically, not intending to finish his sentence any time soon.

“Or else, what?” You asked, perking your eyebrows.

But Alhaitham had already ventured off to look at the market stalls with a smirk plastered on his lips. He just knew which buttons he needed to press to tease you. And clearly, you wouldn't be getting an answer out of him either.

“Dork.” You huffed, hurrying after him, interlocking your arm with his, leaning your head on his shoulder as you walked around the plaza with your warm mugs in hand.

DILUC

Christmas time was always the busiest time of the year for the Winery and the Tavern. Diluc was basically shipping out orders all day when he wasn’t at the Angel’s Share. During these times you always made sure to help him alleviate some of the stress by taking some work off his hands.

Today you filled in for someone at the Christmas Market stand of the Dawn Winery who fell ill. Your job was to man the booth for the mulled wine and punches and serve them to customers.

It was the last weekend before Christmas and therefore the Christmas Market was packed to the brim. You barely got any time to take a break and only noticed that it was time to close up shop as soon as Diluc stood before you.

He helped you serve the last remaining customers and clean up the booth before you both started making your way back home to the Winery.

It had already gone dark outside now and the Christmas lights on the windowsills of the houses by the streets wrapped the environment into a warm light.

Diluc’s hand that was intertwined with yours was comfortably warm like it always was. You could feel it even through your thick gloves.

Both were a stark contrast to the thick snow that crunched below your boots and the cold icy air that pricked at your skin. Every exhale created a little cloud of icy mist in front of your face.

Diluc squeezed your hand a little tighter all of a sudden and nudged his head towards the left, motioning you to follow along.

“Come with me.” He urged, an excited smile playing around his lips.

He led you out of the side gate of Mondstadt, near the Angel’s Share, and headed straight for the frozen lake. He let go of your hand and right in the next moment he was already slithering across the ice with a huge smile plastered on his face

“What are you doing?” You inquired curiously, eyeing him from head to toe as he looked at you expectantly. He stretched one hand out while putting the other behind his back, making him look unbelievably elegant.

“Join me!”

The way he had slithered across the ice had looked so graceful and almost easy. But you had the inkling it wouldn’t end up being as easy as he made it look.

The way the snowflakes peacefully danced around you both in the yellow light of the nearby lantern made this scene almost feel dreamlike.

There was a comfortable silence in the air right now. As if the Gods had draped a white blanket over the world that muffled everything but the most important sounds. Only yours and Diluc’s steady breathing could be heard, as well as the rustling of the snow-covered trees by the shore and the soft pitter-patter of the falling snowflakes.

You stepped closer to the frozen surface of the lake and carefully put one foot on it to test the waters – or more accurately: the ice. And as expected it was extremely slippery and you almost fell the second you tried standing on it.

Diluc had come closer again and wrapped both his hands around your waist to steady you on the ice. He took hold of your hands and carefully pulled you along with him for a few meters.

It looked like he was floating over the ice while you looked like a newborn foal that was trying to stand up for the first time in its life. Your knees were shaking and you tried your hardest to not lose your balance. But despite that the mere presence of Diluc made you feel safe.

“Why are you so good at this?” You inquired curiously, almost losing your balance once more.

“I used to do this every winter as a child. Whenever my father caught me he scolded me for what felt like hours because I could hurt myself. Although that never deterred me from doing it again every winter.” He explained amusedly as his ruby-red eyes began shimmering in the dim light of the lantern.

“Well then, is there some special technique to it? Because I feel like I’m going to fall on my butt the minute you let go of me.”

“I’ll simply not let go of you then.” He retorted with a smirk and you could feel how his grip on your waist tightened. “In all seriousness though, don’t bend your knees inward so much. Keep them straight and your soles flat on the ice. Then only bend your upper body forward a little bit.”

“Roger that.” You replied and did as he explained. And much to your surprise, you stance on the ice immediately felt a lot more safe. Your knees stopped shaking and you were able to stand somewhat comfortably now.

“Yes, just like that!”

“It works!” You exclaimed.

“Now, try moving your feet, while keeping this stance.” He instructed while slowly letting go of you, leaving you some room to move once he was sure you could stand on your own.

He demonstrated the movement to you and you followed him by mirroring them.

Not long after you were still insecurely but steadily moving across the ice.

“Look, I’m doing it!” You yelled excitedly, looking back at Diluc who was watching you with the utmost adoration in his eyes.

“Indeed you are.” He answered proudly as he joined you again, slithering behind you and putting his hands on your waist once more. He carefully pushed you along with him.

You twirled around on the ice with a giggle and it felt like you were two figure skaters in perfect unison, showcasing their breathtaking performance. Although you were sure it looked much more amateurish than it felt. No less, because you weren't actually wearing any ice skates. But at that moment, it didn't matter.

Both of you basked in each other's presence and it felt like you let your inner child run free. The endorphin rush was indescribable. You felt practically invulnerable.

You soon felt comfortable enough to do pirouettes on the ice all by yourself. You had found the right balance to move across the ice and could even move faster than you did before.

You let go of Diluc’s hand and started circling across the surface of the frozen lake. Faster and faster you slithered across the ice.

The problem came about when you wished to come to a halt again. You never asked Diluc how you were able to stop again once you had built some momentum.

And before you had the chance to ask him you slithered and fell face first into one of the big puffy snowbanks that had piled up at the shore.

Snow immediately covered you, got stuck in your hair, fell on your face, seeped into every crevice of your clothes, and made contact with your skin. The icy sensation felt like needles pricking at your skin.

You heard Diluc yell your name muffledly and could make out hurried slithers that came in the direction of where you had fallen. He worriedly pulled you up to your feet again by your hands, patting the snow off your clothes and hair softly.

“Are you alright? I'm so sorry I should've paid more attention. Did you hurt yourself?” He was fussing over you as if you had just fallen down a cliff instead of a bed of soft, albeit cold, snow.

You giggled at his worried expression and slung your arms around his neck, looking intensely at his beautiful eyes.

“I'm alright. Don't worry about me. Although maybe I'm a bit cold now – some snow crept its way into my clothes, I fear.” You pouted with a giggle.

He wordlessly took your hands in his and removed the gloves from your fingers, intertwining his warm ones with yours. You made out a faint flare from the vision on his hip before you felt warmth seep into every fiber of your body, warming you up from the inside out.

“Be careful or you'll melt me.” You teased with a wide smirk.

At that, he brought his face closer to yours, with an equally wide smile, before ushering: “Only your heart” against your lips, before passionately catching them into a deep kiss.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

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