#and for this to be the greatest birthday of your life yet
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spice up your life | lewis hamilton social media au
pairing: lewis hamilton x fem horner!reader
slam it to your left and fall in love with your dad's team's main rival, shake it to your right and cause chaos
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
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tagged: lewishamilton
yourusername: matcha only soz babe
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user4: they're so aesthetic i love them
user5: i need these f1 connections so my desk can look like that
lewishamilton: in matcha we trust - and almave, check it out at www.almave.com
yourusername: get that bag queen?
lewishamilton: i am just a cog in the capitalist machine
yourusername: babe you are the capitalist machine mr. millionaire
lewishamilton: all i'm gonna say is let's make sure we're in monaco when the inheritance comes in
christianhorner: i can see this?
lewishamilton: is this the point when i'm meant to say sorry?
yourusername: considering we're on the way to his house yeah probably
lewishamilton: sorry i guess
christianhorner: i'll take it for now
user6: the way dads are usually mean to their daughter's bf but it's just on crack with christian and lewis
user7: all i can think is that it must have been hell in 2021
user8: i mean lewis and y/n have been together for years so like it's probably just a running joke (for now)
maxverstappen1: i will fight you if you dare bring me a matcha latte again - I ASKED FOR A RED BULL
yourusername: girl.
maxverstappen1: don't think i can't unseat you for christian's favourite
yourusername: if it's a scrap you're asking for you're gonna get one
maxverstappen1: bring it on
lewishamilton: are you sure you guys aren't related?
yourusername: as if i'd want to be related to THAT
maxverstappen1: babe you WISH you had looks like this
lewishamilton: okay....
user9: someone free lewis
user10: i know he regularly questions how much he can take
lewishamilton: y/n is worth it :)
yourusername: love you babe x
lewishamilton
liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,400,331 others
tagged: yourusername, christianhorner & gerihorner
lewishamilton: no more racing means i'm stuck with this lot
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user11: imagine getting on the tube and it's lewis and christian
user12: clearly the biggest deal here is GINGER SPICE
yourusername: you love us really
lewishamilton: i love YOU really
christianhorner: i know you love me deep down lewis
lewishamilton: i'll say yes but just because it's that time of the year
yourusername: that's the spirit !!
christianhorner: you should keep me on side you never know who is picking behind you in white elephant
lewishamilton: you WOULDN'T
christianhorner: it is my job to be able to read you and i know for a fact that you come to white elephant with the intentions to just claim the gift you bought. and because i know this i have correctly deduced the gift you have brought every year. i will claim it this year just to spite you
lewishamilton: damn. toto isn't even this level.
user13: lewis is so real for claiming his own gift at white elephant
maxverstappen1: YOU RIG WHITE ELEPHANT????
yourusername: lMAO
maxverstappen1: he is disrespecting the horner christmas traditions
lewishamilton: you're not a horner bro
maxverstappen1: @christianhorner MAKE HIM TAKE IT BACK !!! TELL HIM I'M A HONORARY HORNER NOW
christianhorner: max is a honorary horner
maxverstappen1: see !!!!!!!!! @lewishamilton you're not even a horner STONES AND GLASS AND HOUSES OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT
lewishamilton: *not yet
yourusername: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
user14: idk about you but i actually live for the lil spats between all of them and y/n just watching with popcorn
user15: is he teasing an ENGAGEMENT
user16: i mean they've been together for years we've been waiting
christianhorner
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christianhorner: happy birthday to one of the greatest of all time in our sport and the love of my daughter's life. i can't say i was overjoyed by her choice in a boyfriend when i first found out, but you guys are perfect for each other! happy birthday and don't have too much fun
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user17: annual toto and christian truce on lewis' birthday
user18: i know lewis and y/n are just chuckling to themselves when they once again purposefully sit christian and toto together
user19: plus george and max together
lewishamilton: thank you christian, i hope to annoy you on track as much as i do off track this season!
yourusername: i don't think his blood pressure can take that babe
christianhorner: i am not that old
yourusername: if that's what you wanna hear... sure!
christianhorner: i wanted this to be a happy post don't make me call in max
yourusername: ... you wouldn't?
maxverstappen1: i'm already here dumbass
lewishamilton: of course you are
maxverstappen1: i was going to say happy birthday but i'm always down to tussle with y/n
yourusername: i will read your ass for filth
lewishamilton: and i will help :)
maxverstappen1: fine. you win this round birthday boy and other one
user20: i hope they keep up this bit forever
yourusername: *happy birthday to the sexiest guy in the world. there fixed it for you
christianhorner: that would be quite inappropriate for me to say
lewishamilton: i see how it is christian
yourusername: don't worry babe the most important horner thinks you're sexy and that's all that matters
lewishamilton: i love you too, you're definitely the sexiest horner
maxverstappen1: max verstappen erasure
yourusername: FUCK OFF
user21: can christian just adopt max already?
lewishamilton: don't give him any ideas
lewishamilton
liked by georgerussell63, alexalbon and 2,311,044 others
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lewishamilton: can you guys stop fucking yelling at me now. jokes, i just got engaged to the love of my life, it doesn't get any better than this (though if your dad and quasi-brother wanna let me win a race i'd be thankful)
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user25: crying like it's my own two kids getting married oh my
user26: the dress is going to be so fucking beautiful i can't wait !!
yourusername: haven't stopped crying, i love you so much
lewishamilton: i love you more
yourusername: NOT POSSIBLE
lewishamilton: i'd be prepared to swear it in a court of law
yourusername: i'd be prepared to literally carve it into my body
lewishamilton: .... babe
yourusername: too far?
lewishamilton: probably, but i appreciate the notion
user27: do we wanna put bets on whether max is going to be nice or a goblin?
maxverstappen1: congratulations assface i guess you really are gonna be a horner before me
lewishamilton: your happiness is really translating through the screen
maxverstappen1: despite popular opinion, i am very happy for you guys and i am very grateful that you treat me like family xoxo
maxverstappen1: okay that's enough being nice, save me a slice of cake or your ass is grass
yourusername: awwww maxy i knew you loved us really!!
maxverstappen1: maybe enough to make me best man?
yourusername: not best man... but you could be my man of honour
maxverstappen1: WHAT ??? FOR REAL ??? DON'T FUCK WITH ME Y/N I'LL CRY
lewishamilton: as much as you annoy me, we'd love you to be part of our day
georgerussell63: max in the wedding party and i'm not... i won't hesitate to get toto on the phone
lewishamilton: I JUST PROPOSED CAN EVERYONE HOLD THEIR HORSES FOR TWO FUCKING SECONDS
user28: so real of you lewis
christianhorner: congratulations!! i can't wait for the big day and for you to finally be a part of the family - JOINT CHRISTMAS I EXPECT EVERYONE THERE THIS YEAR
user29: okay someone check this man's tea
yourusername: thank you dad xxx love you lots
lewishamilton: thank you christian, i will pass on the christmas message
yourusername
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yourusername: *fiance
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user29: the first pic? she on f1 twt or what?
lewishamilton: biggest honour eva
yourusername: nuh uh i'm marrying a knight DOES THAT MAKE ME A PRINCESS
lewishamilton: you're already a princess to me
yourusername: yeah i love you and all that but will the crown recognise me
lewishamilton: probably not ...
yourusername: lol screw them team diana forever
maxverstappen1: insufferable as always
yourusername: i will DESTROY you in a tickle battle when i next see you, consider that a warning
maxverstappen1: i'd like to see you try
yourusername: my new ring makes my slap a hell of a lot stronger btw
maxverstappen1: we get it you're getting married gosh
yourusername: you better get used to it unless you don't want to be man of honour anymore...
maxverstappen1: NO I DO
lewishamilton: this is great i'm gonna hang that over him every time he fucks me over in qualifying
maxverstappen1: UGH
christianhorner: do NOT forget dinner tonight, everyone has come (even the distant ones you didn't know about)
yourusername: we'll be there
lewishamilton: how many are we talking?
lewishamilton: i mean... i can't wait!!
lewishamilton
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lewishamilton: finally got the 104 - i think the ring was good luck xx
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user30: WAR IS OVER HOLY FUCK THANK THE LORD
yourusername: falsehoods it was all you baby
lewishamilton: maybe it was the fact you had a merc cap on rather than that nasty ass red bull hat
yourusername: lewis !!
christianhorner: back winning and immediately on the offensive, i see
lewishamilton: i am ... sorry. got a lil excited - y/n does look best in my colours
christianhorner: i am obviously going to disagree
yourusername: can't we all be happy !!
christianhorner: after debrief and out of a 60 mile radius of toto wolff then yes
user31: can they get engaged every week please?
georgerussell63: so like i defended for you... can i be in the wedding party now?
yourusername: no?
maxverstappen1: HA
georgerussell63: lewis???
lewishamilton: i do what y/n says soz
georgerussell63: traitor. can carmen and i at least get front three rows at the ceremony?
yourusername: keep your nose away from any red bulls and maybe
christianhorner: that's my daughter :)
user32: imagine going into a coma in like 2015 and seeing brocedes is dead and buries and lewis and y/n HORNER are engaged even despite AD21
user33: why isn't this the focus of drive to survive?
yourusername: we're too sexy for netflix .... but we would do our own limited series for a price
lewishamilton: and you called me the capitalist machine ... ok
fin.
note: here it is my last WIP !! i haven't written for lewis in so long and i loved the dynamics in this (i think you can tell that i love max, considering he ends up in everything i write lol). so this also means... the requests are open !! i've already had exciting ones but feel free to send in more. also mamma mia p6 is now in the works as well. december is gonna be super busy for me (it's my birthday on the fifth) but hopefully i'll get some christmas themed ones out for all yall that celebrate !!
#f1 imagine#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1#f1 x you#f1 social media au#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton social media au
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Hello!! New follower here! Do you make request for dion agriche? Can you make a continuon of but you can't stay away from me? It's it correct? Or not i hope, im not really good at english, Sorry!!
❝𝓜𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 , 𝓜𝐈𝐍𝐄 , 𝓐𝐋𝐋 𝓜𝐈𝐍𝐄…❞
━━ 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀 💭 𝐑𝐎𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐀 / 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃’𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑
━━ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 💭 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐗 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 / 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 ! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
━━ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 💭 18+ , 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 , 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 , 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 , 𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐑
━━ 𝐀/𝐍 💭 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐎𝐎𝐂 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 :p
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who doesn’t know how to love someone. he was nurtured inside the womb with resentment and entered into this world as an unloved child, loathed by his own blood, his own mother.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who desperately yearns to know what it feels like to love and to be loved. to be cherished by someone unconditionally despite the stygian blood pumping in his veins and the innocent life untimely looted by his hands. wether it be familial love, platonic love, or romantic love, he just wants to experience something. just once in his life so he could believe himself to not be an unlovable child, and yet people only seem to have contempt reserved for him, and so he never knew how to express this inherent need.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who was the first to feel the attraction towards you, the only person who reached a hand out to him while wearing a bright smile and not a scowl of disgust. your kindness had touched the forsaken child in him that constantly pleaded to be treated with even a speck of affection. he only felt himself more charmed by you since, invoking dion to desperately cling onto that feeling of what he believed “love” to be—and perhaps it purely was, at first anyways.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who fell deeper and deeper into the pit of attraction until his usually logical mind becomes shrouded, believing his growing infatuation towards you to be love and he was willing to do anything to have you return his affection. even if it meant stripping you of your loved ones and precious lifestyle, even if it meant confining you to his room brimmed with empty luxuries for your amusement, even if it meant all your heart could ever spare him was your vitriol. he wholeheartedly believed that you would one day return his affection because he simply adored you too much for you to resent him forever, and he’d show you.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who was deeply touched when you were confirmed to be pregnant with his child, a sense of feverish delirium that he’s never even experienced even on his birthdays fluttering through his chest. he was convinced the child in your womb to be the greatest embodiment of your love, that its existence must’ve reified your love for him.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who swore to himself that he would love your child, even if he didn’t know how to. the forsaken child in him has already known what it’s like to be nourished by enmity and abhorrence, something that still haunts him into adulthood, and dion wishes to shield your child from that kind of treatment because its existence is precious and lovable purely because it shared your blood, and dion thinks every part of you is lovable.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who usually indulges your every whims (not that you usually have many requests for him), but begins to overindulge you during your pregnancy. even if you didn’t ask for it, he hires tailors to consult with you about specially-designed baby clothes. he even builds a brand new room with a playroom that would be connected to your shared bedroom so you could easily have access to the baby, and even allows you to decorate it however you want.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who follows you like your own shadow during your pregnancy, which really isn’t that different. he can’t really help it. the agriche mansion is a dangerous place with his savage siblings lurking around, always on the hunt for a new toy. even though they know not to test their limits with the unofficial favorite child of their father and his lover, they can torment you in ways other than physical and it makes dion fret for your health as well as the child’s. it’s better to be safe and sorry, even if he sometimes receive sharp glances from you when trailing after you.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who worries over your health so much he creates a whole new diet for you with strict rules regarding things you’re allergic to and things that might negatively affect the baby. he also rarely allows you to walk on your own two feet for too long, always timing your steps in his mind and anticipating the moment before you begin to feel worn out. he always swoops in to bridal-carry you in his arms to wherever your destination is, and takes your lack of comment as it’s own form of praise.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who monitors the growth of your belly bump every end of the week. he always glide his hand over your stomach to feel the baby’s heartbeat because he’s trained to detect any heartbeat and feels comforted by the fact the baby’s heartbeat grows stronger every time he checks. he’s also quite fond of caressing your stomach once a bump starts to form, no matter how subtle. especially when the two of you are in bed together, he always has a hand on your stomach, hoping the baby could sense his effort to become familiar with it.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who spoils you with new clothes and imported accessories because your body’s changing and he wants you to be comfortable. even though it might not seem like it most of the time with his indifferent expression, dion cares very much for your happiness and does whatever he can to keep you contented, although with some limits. wether this means spoiling you rotten or allowing you to order him around, dion actually won’t mind and will do as you say, although it seems you rarely ever do so.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who gets incredibly anxious when your due date approaches. he’s complied a lot of information about child birth throughout you pregnancy, just in case you go into labor before your due date, but that only means he’s also aware of the risks of giving birth, and for the first time ever, he feels fear not for himself but for another person. he gets incredibly sensitive during this time, especially his senses which goes haywire any time your heartbeat starts beating quicker than it usually does because of course he has your heart beat memorized. let’s just say a lot of good servants were lost during this time since dion needed many stress relievers.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who is in full-blown panic mode when the big moment comes, and for him that means blanching paler than a dove and cold sweat drenching his entire body. he doesn’t even realize it but his body’s shaking because he feels pain even though he’s not wounded; your painful cries and sobs are enough for him to feel as if he’s been stabbed by a sword—no, perhaps even something so macabre couldn’t compare to what he felt when he was utterly helpless whilst you were suffering through something purely agonizing. he holds onto your hand as if you were his lifeline, and even your worst grip couldn’t get him to let go of you first.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who thinks to himself that maybe having only one child is enough. he partly believes so because he has no desire to see you in so much pain and losing unnecessary blood again, but also because he doubts wether he could love more than one child. dion’s heart is not nearly big enough to love more than you and hopefully this child, he could barely even love himself, and even then, dion doubts he would ever cherish your child more than he did you. even if you had asked so if him, he would fail to do it.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who feels lightheaded when he sees the bloody mess that spills from you. no, he’s not disgusted. he’s seen things much more gruesome and grotesque things, yet the fact that blood is coming from you makes him terribly anxious that something might go wrong and he might lose you. for the first time ever in his life, dion prays to something, anything for your safety because he’s simply helpless and he’s not used to it at all.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who doesn’t hear the baby’s cries but only your sigh of relief when the child is born. he immediately jumps to make sure that you’re fine and healthy, briskly checking your pulse and placing his ear near your chest so he could listen to your heartbeat. it has always calmed him down before and it works like a charm to calm him down once again.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who’s completely taut when the worries finally leave him. he’s like a dear caught in headlights that doesn’t know what to do, and his hands tremble slightly when the child is finally presented for him to hold. he first turns to you for a look of confirmation, and your hesitant yet nod of assurance had him gently taking the sniffling baby into his arms. it’s so small and delicate that dion doesn’t think he’s ever treated something so gently before—well, maybe you were the first.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who finds himself staring at its oddly shaped face as if he were bewitched. a smile never made its way to his callous face yet there’s a shine in his ruby eyes and an undeniable flush of excitement to his pale cheeks. even though he doesn’t find your child as adorable as you did at first, the beaming smile you wore as you held it was enough for dion to also nod along to your hazy words.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who pampers and cosset your child from day one. he’s always around to hold the baby when you’re tired, always admiring its cherubic countenance and incoherent murmurs. he treats your child as if it were a magical creature that’s never been discovered before, and his own curiosity about the baby is quite child-like in its purity and wonder.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who falls into the role of a father not without stumbling along the way. he’s not very expressive and has a hard time comprehending other’s needs, so dion finds it especially difficult to read your baby’s expressions and care for it correctly. he tries, he certainly does, so often that sometimes he’s just sitting around with your baby in his arms and trying to decipher its expressions and moods. he still doesn’t seem to get it right despite his many attempts.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who never lets the baby disturb your sleep. he doesn’t even do this deliberately. as a trained assassin his senses are naturally sensitive to the changes around him and a baby isn’t quite skilled enough to evade his detection. therefore, trust that you’ll have a peaceful sleep, and even if you are awaken it’ll be a gentle shake on your shoulder because dion just can’t seem to guess what the child needs, but you’ll never be awoken by a crying baby.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who doesn’t allow your baby to ever be close with his other family members. sure, his entire family might be aware of the fact he has a child and a “lover” but that doesn’t mean they also have the privilege to approach your child. he gatekeeps them so fervently that if another member of the family even mentions making an attempt, there might be a battle, and dion definitely won’t be the one loosing.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who personally teaches his child how to wield a sword and other self-defense techniques as they get older. it doesn’t matter if they’re a boy or a girl, they were unfortunate enough to be born into the house of agriche and knowing how to fight is the bare minimum to survive. of course, he won’t be as harsh as his instructors were in the past, often making some adjustments to focus on your child’s strength. he won’t be gentle even if they’re only sparring, and he doesn’t give out praises easily, however he does try to give physical encouragements such as head pats and the occasional hug.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who spoils your kid without restraint when they’re growing up and start having their own needs. be it imported toys or golden staffs for playtime, he doesn’t care as long as his child is kept contented. he even brings home exotic goods from places he visits on his missions for both you and your child as a reminder he was thinking about the two of you.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who is uncertain if he’s loving his child correctly or if he even loves them at all. sure, there’s an attachment that’s developing that will definitely grow deeper as the years pass, and yes, they do have a certain bond no matter how their relationship might seem. however, his feelings towards your child is no where comparable to the feelings dion has towards you, that which he believes to be “love”, and therefore he can’t properly gauge his own feelings but also partly can’t seem to believe that he could truly love his child with the way he was raised. if worse comes to worse and he had to chose between the two of you, it would never be your child no matter how much time passes.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who passes on his certain idiosyncrasies onto his child. deliberately or not? we’ll never know. it’s quite easy to pick up on this when you begin to notice just how attached your child is to you and how they start getting possessive of you around the maids and easily getting enraged when a servant accidentally bumps into you. sure, your child might be the opposite of dion which allows them to express themselves easier, but they often do so wantonly and has sudden outbursts when it comes to you, almost as if they’re mirroring what dion just can’t seem to express.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who is extremely proud when your child fervently agrees with his belief of keeping you to himself since you were the only one who was kind to him and how others were undeserving of your presence. this even gets to the point where the father-child duo will gang up on you whenever your emotions get out of hand and you start desiring to runaway again. they will manipulate you into believing that everything is just fine and that you would ruin everything if you acted upon those “passing impulses”, and they will do so without an ounce of guilt because in the end they’re still agriches.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who uses your child as another shackle to keep you tied to him along with the silver band on your ring finger that weighs you down. in the end, he’s grateful that you came into his life and gave him the taste of normalcy that he was so famished of. he’s grateful for the nights he would share his bed with you and your child, of the evenings the three of you would take a walk through the garden hand-in-hand, and of the dinners where the three of you would sit together like a peaceful family while your child would rant about their lessons.
━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who knows he owes all the happiness in his life to you and who’ll make sure to repay you in whatever way he can, and that includes making sure he’ll stay by your side until you grow old together. even in your next life and the many lives after, dion agriche swears that he will find you, because one simply can’t exists in the dark again without getting greedy after having embraced by the light.
#—ichigo 💭#manhwa x reader#yandere x reader#yandere manhwa x reader#the way to protect the female lead's older brother#roxana#dion agriche#female reader#afab reader#yandere the way to protect the female lead’s older brother#the way to protect the female lead’s older brother x reader#yandere imagines#male yandere#yandere husband#twtptflob x reader#dion agriche x reader#yandere dion agriche#_𝟏𝐊𝟏𝐆𝐀𝟏_
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BABY DADDY ZORO BABY DADDY ZORO BABY DADDY ZORO.
𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎
ೃ⁀➷cw. sexual content, mentions of substance consumption, foul language, slight infidelity, both reader and zoro got their names tatted on them, y’all got a baby girl, this isn’t a smutty as i has planned for it to be ngl
ೃ⁀➷zuha’s note. forever pushing lora’s zoro and his bruk ass pickup truck agenda .
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, despite knowing you called things off with him weeks prior to finding out about your pregnancy, still knows absolutely no boundaries when it comes to you and his four year old daughter. shows up to your place on unexpected days, talking bout “wanted to see my babygirl, ‘s there an issue?”, crashes overnight on the couch because “the truck’s engine’s busted” or “‘s too dark outside and i left my glasses back home”. it’s terrible habits but he seems to always convince you to let him stay by the grin on your daughter’s chubby cheeks whenever she smells the scent of pancakes, eggs and bacon in the air with her favorite side of fresh fruit.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who always shows up to your daughter’s school events no matter the circumstance. he got work? somebody’ll take cover for his shift. truck broke down? nothin’ an uber won’t fix. he may arrive slightly late due to directional challenges, but he will still always show up. dressed in loose grey sweatpants with a white fitted tee and gold chain, he spots you dressed as classily as ever (bougie, he loved to call you) and notices your birkin bag saving a seat for him. he squeezes through the row and ignores the thirsty looks he receives, all in favour of sitting at your side, arm wrapped behind the seat of your chair and kisses your temple when you lean into his embrace.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who swings by every weekend to pick up his daughter for his turn of the rotation. if you ask him, he’d rather just stay over for the weekend and spend it with y’all three but he’s aware of your personal life outside of both him and your daughter, and complications (like whoever the fuck dropped you home that one friday night and gave you a cheek kiss when you’d asked him to stay a few hours with his baby) that can interfere in y’all’s relationship.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, on the occasions you let him spend the night over, always makes it up to you. it’s always the same routine—you tell him to crash on the couch and leave as soon as the rise of dawn awakens and yet he always ends up in the warmth of your bed, one leg propped up with two hands on your hips and fucks into you with precision. the sinful arch of your back and your whines as you beg him for more drive him insane, makes him miss you so much more than he’s willing to admit. though for now, he’s content in showing you how much he longs for you through plunging his dick deep in your guts and silencing your moans with his tongue down your throat (to his dismay, you make him pull out and finish on your back).
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who loves to spoil you and his baby. doesn’t have the highest paying income but no matter his salary, he’d be more than willing to spend 50% of it on the both of you. anything his daughter wants, she gets. he knows you can good and well afford for the both of you but he feels it’s his job to make sure you both live a soft life. no matter the reason—job promotion, birthdays, anniversaries, just for the fun of it— he’ll always want to gift you. he isn’t the best with words but he genuinely thanks the heavens that such a wonderful woman was able to bless him the greatest of gifts.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who freezes in shock the very first time his daughter asks him if he’s still in love with you. he forgets she was blessed with your intelligence, but such a pretty and chubby face smothered in chocolate syrup from her ice cream sundae on their weekly hangouts asking him if he still loves mommy the same way her classmate’s parents love each other makes him realize that these habits between you and him may badly affect y’all’s kid’s future. still, he sighs melancholy and lightly flicks her nose that scrunches up adorably, and while she huffs childishly a “papa!”, he tells himself he’s in long due of a conversation with you. “i do, princess, more than you could imagine.” he answers, though he isn’t sure if she heard him as she quickly stuffs her mouth full of the sugary dessert once more.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, for the first time in years, decides to actively start dating again. he quickly regrets his decision when he’s on a dinner date, faintly listening to some broad babble about whatever it is she’s talking about but realizing he genuinely cannot see this girl— or any other girl—in his distant future. he’s too busy thinking about the slight twitch in your eye when he’d let you know he would be on a date and may arrive later to pick up his baby. you asked him where he met said girl, and he honestly told you his work friend had set him up on a date. you wished him good luck and to not spare any details when he comes back, but he felt the strain in your fake smile. you’re too easy to read, he decided a while ago, or maybe he’s mastered the art of your deception. regardless, he regrets going on this date and regrets even further when he lets her blow him off in his truck, especially since he never got to finish his load before dropping her off home.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who still invites you and his baby over to his parents’ place whenever there’s any family cookout. terra loves you and her granddaughter, always bombarding zoro with questions whenever he goes to visit. she showers you and her granddaughter with so much love, calls you her daughter despite you and zoro having broken up years ago. she checks on you occasionally, lets you know you’re always welcomed in her home despite everything. she spoils her only granddaughter with gifts and treats and love, takes her on walks and offers to even let her sleepover at her place for the weekends. zoro takes note of that offer, especially since y’all’s anniversary is approaching round the corner.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who brings you to the very first restaurant y’all had y’all first date at, years ago. on the roof patio of the five star restaurant, at the same table, he sees how your eyes sparkle in admiration at his efforts to recreate one of y’all’s most memorable moments in your past relationship. he’s dressed in the fanciest button up and slacks with dress shoes he owns, brings you bouquets of your favorite flowers and as always, pays for your meal. the date goes smoothly, as does most things you guys do, and he walks you back to his truck, hand in hand with the moonlight bouncing off the irises of your eyes. you catch him staring and he’s swears he’s fallen so deeply in love with you— or maybe he never truly stopped. it’s a scary but thrilling feeling, and from the heat rising on your cheeks and your shy gaze, he knows you feel the same. he can’t help but cup your face with one big hand and capture your lips in a sensual kiss, smiling when he feels you melt in his hold. you pull away shyly, nuzzling your nose into his and zoro swears on his mom he would run across the globe back and forth on a leg, go to hell and back, just to have you back in his graces.
needed to get this out of my drafts 🗿.
#roronoaswifey.exe#kazuha’s works 📂#‘thinking bout’ series#one piece#one piece smut#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro smut#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#x reader
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Hiiiii thanks for making my day your the best, I give you so many hug (or high fives if you don't want hugs!) If I may ask can you write a broken relationships with malleus pretty please with a cheery on top? ( Also can I be lizard anon please! 🦎)
I would gladly accept any and all hugs! And I will devour that cherry while I write this-
Malleus I feel would be one of the ones that actually would be a good sibling so it's difficult to think about how a broken sibling relationship with him would be lol
Note: I haven't read any of Chapter 7 yet
Request Rules and Masterlists
Broken Sibling relationships
Malleus as a sibling (Broken relationship)
To say that you and Malleus were different would've been an understatement.
Even as kids, you two were very different. He was always treated as the best and the golden child, seen with much love, and he was naturally talented at just about anything. He had no problems with magic, no threats, and no flaws. He was the perfect heir for the throne of Briar Valley
And you? You were his younger sibling.
Compared to Malleus, you were never anyone's priority
Of course, you had servants and knights helping you just like him, but anything Malleus needed always took priority
Your help could be taken away at any moment for the sake of Malleus getting help
In the beginning, it didn't bother you as much because you and Malleus were together a lot of the time! He would spend a lot of time with you, and the two of you had so much fun together
You two would spend hours together in the library, and Malleus would read to you books on magic and history, but he got really passionate when he read about gargoyles. The two of you even ran around the castle once, trying to identify each gargoyle, both of your laughter echoing through the halls for guards and servants to hear
But as the years went by, things changed. Malleus had to become more of the heir he's meant to be. He spent most of his time alone or surrounded by guards
You started to get used to being in Malleus' shadow and not taking priority. Your brother had helped you feel less alone and more equal in the past, but he was too busy for you now
everything only got worse once you two had gone to Night Raven College
Malleus was praised from the moment he got there of course. He was recognized as one of the greatest and best of everyone there. He even had knights in training with him here, and a personal greeting from the headmage. You however...
"Who are you?"
You weren't even recognized or known. Not to the headmage, not to anyone. Why would you be? You aren't the heir of Briar Valley. You aren't the great wizard that Malleus is. And you aren't nearly as important.
Even after explaining who you were, people would just go "Oh." and ask about Malleus
To them, you might as well not even have a name. You were barely noticed. Barely recognized. And even when you were, you were simply known as Malleus' sibling. Nothing more.
And to top it all off: You weren't even invited to things
If people couldn't remember to invite Malleus, there's no way they remembered you. They probably didn't even know you existed. You're just in the background
You saw all the games he played in, all the praise he got, heck one of his knights practically worshiped the ground he walked on, but not when it came to you
People avoided him, they didn't notice or ignored you
Eventually, your birthday came around, and of course, no one noticed. Malleus didn't even see you at all, and didn't say anything
Your own brother didn't remember your birthday...
Are you cursed or something? Cursed to never be seen? Cursed to forever live a life that no one will notice? It's so cruel...
It's not like you wanted anything grand. You didn't need some big fancy party for your birthday
You just wanted to be acknowledged. For one day.
But compared to Malleus, you might as well be insignificant. He shone too brightly for anyone to even see you, hidden in his shadow
Even on a day that should be dedicated to you, he was the one being praised and followed around. He was the one everyone adored. Malleus, the prince of Briar Valley...
You were insignificant, unimportant, ignored
At this point, you can't even help but wonder if even Malleus himself forgot about you completely
you had assumed that was the case
that is, until you opened the your door the next morning. Sitting outside was a neatly wrapped gift box, and inside, a small gargoyle statue
#twst#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#malleus draconia#malleus x reader#malleus draconia x reader
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My Best Friend’s Brother
P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12
pairing: y/n and Chris sturniolo
alright guys this is my first post so treat it nicely, but this is only the first part so let me know if you want the next part :)
Summary: You & Nick have been best friends forever. There was nothing you couldn’t tell him. You move in for a little while after something bad goes down in your own home, but that means living with his brothers. One brother you got along with, the other not so much….
warnings!! Mentions of a toxic, abusive household, cursing, mentions of not eating well, puking, mention of anxiety and depression
no smut yet…
Pain. Pain and suffering. Something I was born from and have lived to deal with my entire life. Sometimes I thought I was at my very worst. I would think to myself, there is nothing worse than this. The pain corsating through my entire body when my parents would scream at me. Or when my father would throw things at me and my mom turned a blind eye. I would stare up in my bedroom wishing for it to all go away. The pain at least.
I thought that one day the pain would just go away, that I would eventually end up numb. But when they day came, it didn't. The pain was still there, just as it was before. Just the reaction was numb, at least the aftermath. Back then, my childhood filled with not toys and cherished memories, but hiding, screaming, fighting and holding my teddy bear wondering why my parents didn't love me the way they were suppose to. The way my friends parents loved them. All the trips to Disney land I never got, all of the empty presents under the tree, the forgotten birthdays, they still weren't the worst of it.
This was.
I blinked my eyes up towards the stars, still silent. The only sounds between us were the chirping of crickets. Crickets who probably had parents that cared about them more than I did. I swallowed as I watched a plane pass over us silently. Silence killed some people, but not me. Sometimes it was the only peace I ever got. Silence meant good. It meant everything was calm. Everything was okay. I craved silence.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Nick whispered beside me after a few minutes. I blinked at the sky, not turning towards him. Nick was my best friend. There was nothing I couldn't talk to Nick about. He was always there for me even when I would just sit in silence, he would just be there. He would always be there. He's the greatest best friend of all best friends in the world.
Nick sat up peering down at me as I glanced from the sky to him.
"How are you feeling?" He asked softly. I still hadn't cried. That was the scariest part of it all. Usually my emotions would take over me. Hitting me with the hardest gust of wind, like a truck. But this time it didn't. I was numb. I waited for the reaction, the emotions to come, but it hadn't yet. I was starting to think it would never come.
"Numb" I said quietly. Nick frowned at me and brushed a piece of hair behind my ear. "I'm always going to be here y/n. I promise" He smiled. I just looked at him. I sat up looking down at my hands.
"I feel like I should be happy right?" I said looking up at him. He just listened. "But I'm not" I shook my head. I wish I could pinpoint how i was feeling but I couldn't and I hated it. I sighed. "He's still my dad" I breathed. Nick nodded. Nick knew everything about my family history. I told him everything. He was the first one I called after it happened. He picked me up and we drove where we always came to think. Lincoln Park.
I loved it here, because it was quite. No loud noises. No screaming, no fighting, just good memories. One of the last places for me that only held the good memories.
"Did you tell Matt and Chris where you were going?" I asked looking at him. He nodded. He never lied to his brothers and I admired that, but it doesn't mean I want them to know. I looked down. "I didn't give them any details, I just said that it was your dad and that you needed me" He said looking at me, clearing my mind. I nodded.
Matt and Chris were Nick's brothers. He's one of three. They are triplets. A bond that could never be broken. I wish I had some family like that. I liked them enough. I liked Matt, he was quite, but nice. Chris was harder to get along with. We are both strong headed people with lots of opinions so we tended to butt heads a lot. I wouldn't consider them my friends, but they were Nick's brothers. They had a part of Nick in them, which made me care for them.
"A part of me wishes he would have done this when I was born, like he threatened" I breathed, feeling like everything inside of me was coming out. "But a part of me knows that If he did my mom would have hated me and blamed me my whole childhood for him leaving, like she's doing now" I said shaking my head thinking about it. Nick reached over and put his hand on my leg.
"It's not your fault y/n. Your dad sucked. It was him, all him. Not you" Nick said making me look up at him. I swallowed and looked down wanting to believe him, and a part of me did, but a part of me will always relive those words he said to me tonight.
"I just don't know if it would have hurt less to never had known him. To have him never know me." I sighed and looked up. "But he did know me" I said looking at Nick. He had a sad expression posted on his face. "And he still wanted to leave" I whispered. Still no tears. Still numb.
"Y/n I don't think I could ever live without you" Nick said, I saw tears brimming his eyes. "You mean so fucking much to me" He said letting a tear fall. I smiled sadly. "Your dad is an idiot" He said shaking his head. "Such an idiot" He smiled at me. I smiled and pulled Nick into a hug and he wrapped his arms around me and we sat there for a minute, just holding each other.
"You can stay with me, you know" He said as he laid his head against me. I stayed silent. "My mom would love to have you. We have an extra guest bedroom you can stay in, and if you don't want to be alone you can just sleep in my bed" He said soothingly. I smiled at his offer. As much as I wanted to take it and run, I knew I shouldn't. I didn't want to leave my mom alone, afraid she would hate me even more than she does right now. Plus his mom already had to deal with raising three teenage boys. She doesn't need me and my problems on top of all of that.
"Thank you Nick, but I can't. I can't leave my mom" I whispered as Nick pulled back to look at me. He nodded. "My door is always open. You can change your mind and stay as long as you need" He smiled at me and I nodded.
"Nick" I said grabbing his attention again. He looked at me waiting for me to continue. "Can you do me a favor?" I asked quietly. He nodded not breaking eye contact. "Tomorrow" I started looking at him. "Will you just pretend that none of this happened? I don't want your pity or anyone else's." I sighed looking down. "I don't want you to treat me any differently. I don't want you to feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me" I said making him smile.
"If you think my hair looks ratty, I want you to tell me and make a joke. If I stutter I want you to call me out like you always do" I laughed, making him laugh. "I just don't want this to change our dynamic. I don't want you to look at me like the girl who needs fixing. I've been dealing with this my whole life, nothing changed. He just left that's it" I said shaking my head. Nick placed his hand over mine.
"If that's what you want" He stated. I nodded smiling at him. "You sure you want to go back?" He asked looking at me. I hesitated before nodding slowly. He nodded starting to stand. "I'll buy you ice cream on the way come on" He said helping me up. I smiled and took his hand.
"Thank you, Nick" I smiled and he pulled my hand as we walked to the car.
-
I stood in front of the door to my house. My hand shaking as it gripped the handle. God y/n stop being a baby, walk in. I swallowed before turning the handle. As I walked in I could almost see the scene that unfolded in front of me just a few hours ago. I let out a shaky breath the memories flooding into my brain creating the imagine. I swallowed, before turning and closing the door. I walked a few steps before seeing my mother sitting at the kitchen table looking down at her hands. She didn't acknowledge my presence.
"Mom?" I asked quietly. She didn't even look up. I bit my lip looking towards the stairs. Just walk up the stairs. No. I at least had to make sure she was okay. I took a deep breath before walking up to her. I swallowed.
"Mom?" I asked again looking down at her. She still didn't look up at me, her eyes glued to the table. I gripped my hands together, looking around. Anxiety spiking through my body. "Mom can you please talk to me?" I asked her. She had a lot to say earlier. I wasn't expecting her to be quiet.
I looked at the empty chair next to her. I sat down slowly. "Mom I know this is hard for you, but maybe this is for the better you know?" I said my hands shaking. "Y-You know dad he was really angry and-" I started to say but was cut off.
"Don't" She spat quickly. I looked up at her. "Your father was a good man. You will not speak down on him" She said glaring at me. I furrowed my eyebrows at her. Surely we couldn't have been speaking about the same man. Not the one from my childhood.
I tapped my fingers on the table in front of me. "Mom I just don't want you to hate me" I mumbled quietly. Silence again. I looked up at her. "I-I did this for you. For us. I wanted better I just wanted to feel-" I attempted to explain but she stood up violently.
"For me? You did this for me?" She said glaring down at me. "You are the most selfish kid i've ever seen in my life! You drove your dad away after 18 years of marriage for me?" She screamed at me. "18 years of hell. Hell for the both of us and you know it!" I stood up screaming back.
"He was a drunk! He hit you! He threw shit at me! I was trying to save us! I was trying to protect myself like you never did for me!" I yelled at her. She pursed her lips as she looked at me.
"Out" She said looking at me. "I want you out of my house" She said looking down. I felt my heart fall. As much as I wanted to accept her request and run to Nick's, she was still my family. The only family I had left. "Mom please-" I breathed. She just glared at me.
"We only have each other. You can't do this" I shook my head. She swallowed and shook her head. "This was your fault y/n. Yours. Not mine. My whole life-" She stopped closing her eyes. "My whole life, it was you" She pointed at me. I backed up, hardening my face towards her.
"Why do you think he started drinking in the first place" She shook her head. I bit my lip and shook my head. "This is not my fault" I said through gritted teeth. She nodded. "You know it is. You can stand there and try to convince who ever you want that this was not your fault, but it is" She shook her head at me.
"And you know it" She said pointing in my face. I licked and lips and looked down. Pain corsating through my entire body. Still, not tears held in my eyes. I took a deep breath. "Please" I whispered. "I want you out of my house goddammit!" She screamed at me. I took a deep breath and stepped back for a second just looking at her. Wishing. Hoping. That just this once she would pick me over him. But she never had and she never would and now I knew that.
I swallowed and nodded. Still no tears. I turned on my feet, walking up the stairs, packed my things, and didn't look back as I left the house.
-
This was your fault y/n. Yours.
I closed my eyes before I knocked on the door quietly. It was past midnight at this point and Nick wasn't answering his phone, but this was my last hope. I didn't have anywhere else to go. I didn't have a home and it was starting to get really cold outside. The Boston cold. I hugged my arms as the breeze blew by.
I stood there looking at my feet with a duffle bag around my shoulders. Aching from the walk over here. It wasn't a bad walk. I walked it all the time, but with an extra 50 pounds of weight it was hard. My shoulders ached. I looked up at the door again, waiting for any signs of someone answering the door.
"Please" I whispered to myself as I saw my breath come out before me. A few seconds passed and I started to give up hope when I heard the door creek open slightly.
I looked up and saw a pair of familiar blue eyes. Chris Sturniolo stood before me. I blinked at him. He furrowed his eyebrows when he realized it was me. He looked down at my bag, then back up at me. I just looked down at my feet and then back up at him. He was not the one I wanted to answer the door.
"What's with the bag?" He asked opening the door all the way just looking at me, like he alwasy had. Unimpressed. Can I get a break just this once Chris? I wanted to say but instead I held my lips closed. "Can you get Nick?" I asked looking at him, as I shivered. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stood there examining me. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. I didn't like this.
"Chris please" I said quietly, not looking at him. He looked back up at my eyes before sighing. He looked behind him and then back to me. "He's been asleep for a while, come in" He said moving out of the way so that I could step inside. I left out a breath before walking through the door. I felt Chris grab my bag and I stopped, gripping my bag. He stepped back putting his hands up. Looking at me with a shocked expression.
"I was just getting your bag jeez" He said shaking his head and closing the door. I sighed looking down. "So jumpy" He mumbled walking past me and towards the stairs. I just watched him as he walked. He stopped and looked at me when he got to the staircase. He raised his eyebrows.
"You comin?" He asked looking at me. I blinked before following after him up the stairs. I tried not to stare too much as he walked up the steps. As painful as it was to be around Chris, he was deathly attractive. Which only made me hate him more. Kinda. I blinked and looked down at my feet before reaching the top of the steps.
"Guest bedrooms on the right next to the bathroom. You know where that is" He said sliding his hands into his pockets. I looked to where he was talking about and nodded. "Do you want me to wake Nick?" He asked looking at me. I shook my head. Nick had done enough for me tonight there was nothing ergrent going on. Mom just kicked me out, i'll still be kicked out tomorrow. There's no need to bother him while he was sleeping.
I shook my head. "No it's okay, I'll just talk to him tomorrow." I fake smiled. He just blinked at me. I started to turn to walk away but Chris grabbed my arm. I felt electricity run up to my shoulder. I turned around quickly putting my hand over where he had touched me. He slightly leaned back from my reaction.
"Are you okay?" He asked quietly as if anyone heard him ask that the world might explode. I just looked at him for a second. Soaking in the almost concern in his face I'd never seen before. "Yeah." I nodded. Yeah I'm fine Chris" I whispered back. He nodded looking down at his feet.
"Get some sleep" He said before turning and walking back down the steps. I let out a breath before walking into the guest bedroom and setting my bag down. I sighed running my hands through my hair. Long day. Very long day.
I threw my hair up into a pony tail and crawled into the bed. I let out a breath. I heard a small knock at the door before I heard it start to creek open. Matt poked his head through the door and smiled before walking in. I smiled softly at him.
"Hey y/n/n" He said quietly. He looked down at his hands holding waters. "I brought you a water in case you get thirsty." He smiled walking over to the bed and handing me the waters. I took them and placed them on the table beside my bed.
"Thanks Matt" I sighed. He smiled down at me and started to turn before stopping. He looked down at me sadly. I wanted to throw up. "Chris told me you were here. That you were upset. I just- Are you okay?" He asked quietly. I looked up at the ceiling.
"Matt I'm okay I just don't want to be pitied. I'm still me" I said glancing over at him. He nodded and looked down. "There's some clothes in the bottom drawer if you want to change. They are old. They don't fit us anymore, but they will fit you" He smiled slightly. I nodded. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped before turning and exiting, leaving me alone. I stood up off my bed before going towards the drawer and shifting through the clothes.
I smiled at them. I picked up one shirt that was blue and read "Highlanders" which was the mascot of our high school. I brought it up to my nose and old cologne filled my nose. I smiled before ripping off my shirt and pulling it over me. I walked over and pulled myself back into my bed.I sighed and turned over, hugging my pillow.
I tried to close my eyes, but I couldn't. It was like a magnet that kept springing open. I tossed and turned before looking up at the ceiling, sighing letting my thoughts wonder around.
How could Chris even tell I was upset? I didn't even say anything. I shook my head at my thoughts. The last thing I need right now is for my mind to try to figure out the complex man who is Christopher Sturniolo.
I closed my eyes but it was hours before I finally drifted off to sleep.
-
I walked down the steps, I heard the talking in the kitchen come to a holt. I glanced over the staircase and saw all of the faces looking back at me. Mary Lou smiled at me softly before walking up to me and hugging me.
"You can stay here as long as you need sweetheart. You're a part of the family" She said quietly as she hugged me. Over her shoulder I met the eyes of Nick, Matt, and Chris. I looked away when she pulled back. I smiled at her.
"Thank you" I whispered. She nodded before walking back towards the kitchen. I looked at Nick who gave me a soft smile. I smiled back and sat next to him. I put my hands on my face and rubbed my eyes. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. Nick reached over and rubbed my arm.
"Your hair looks like shit" He smiled over at me. I couldn't help but let out a small laugh, making Nick smile. "Nick" Matt scolded him. I shook Matt off quickly. "No...he's okay" I smiled looking up at Nick. "Thank you" I said quietly. In moments like these I don't know what I would do without him. He smiled and looked down.
"So we all get the pass to insult you right now?" Chris asked from across from me. I glared at him. Always butting heads like I said before. When Chris asked me if I was okay last night, that was the first time he was semi-nice to me. It honestly weirded me out a bit. Chris held eye contact for a second before he broke it and looked down. I smiled down to myself. I won.
"Because you look tired as shit" Chris said shoving his spoon full of cereal into his mouth and chewing obnoxiously. Mary Lou set down a plate of eggs next to him, hitting him on the back of his head. Chris whined and put his hand on the back of his head, looking up at her. I laughed before covering my mouth.
"Language Christopher. That is no way to speak to a guest" She said looking down at him and then making eye contact with me and winking at me. "Nick said it first!" He said motioning to Nick. Nick and I giggled. I smiled at her. Sometimes she felt like a second mom to me. Actually more like my only mom. I admired her more than I admired myself.
Chris looked up glaring at me. I rolled my eyes. "You should try to eat something" Matt said beside Chris looking at me. I looked down at the food on the table. "I'll make you anything you want honey" Mary Lou said from the stove turning around to look at me.
The thought of food entering my body right now made me sick to my stomach. That's all it did recently and it showed. My legs were skinner, my face was too. I swallowed. I should eat. I know I should. It's not like I don't want to, just recently I can't. When I do, I puke it all up and if there is anything I hate more than feeling sick, It's throwing up. I talked to Nick about it and he told me that it might be trauma response. The lack of eating. I blinked down at the table.
"I don't really want to eat right now" I said quietly. Chris glanced up at me for a second before going back to his phone. Nick leaned slightly towards me. "Eat something y/n/n" He said softly. I just looked at him and then Matt, who was looking at me like I was an injured puppy.
Nick placed piece of bacon on the plate in front of me and Matt stood up taking a muffin off the counter and handing it to me. I looked between them both. "Just a little bit. It might make you feel better" Matt suggested across from me. This is exactly what I didn't want. To be babied. I could talk Nick off of it, but Matt was different. He didn't know me as well as Nick did, so he didn't believe me when I said I seriously did not want to be treated differently.
I looked up at Matt. He was staring at me waiting for me to eat the fucking muffin. I sighed before picking up. Maybe If I ate a little bit he would stop staring at me like that. I looked down at it before biting into it and chewing looking at Matt. He smiled and looked down, almost pleased with himself. I leaned back sighing.
After breakfast Nick when into his room to shower and before he told me he had a whole day planned of fun. I rolled my eyes as he smiled and jumped into his room. As I turned I felt it. I paused before walking quickly to my room. I walked in and ran into the bathroom, closing the door and leaning over the toilet, emptying my stomach.
I held my hair back as I puked. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to control my breath. I leaned back and sighed. Then It came again and held the toilet. I groaned and fell back against the fall. I heard a small knock on the door.
"Y/n?"
I looked towards the door and rubbed my eyes. I couldn't really tell the difference between their voices sometimes, but I knew who was on the other side of the door. "Hold on a sec" I said as I stood up, flushing the toilet. I leaned over towards the mirror and filled my mouth with water and spitting it out and then splashing some on my face. He knocked again.
"Matt-" I said as I opened the door but was met with the other brother not Matt. Chris hovered above me, looking down at me. He raised his eyebrows. "Still don't got the voices down yet huh?" He asked smiling. I closed my eyes sighing. "You all sound the exact same" I said shaking my head. He looked behind me and then back at me.
"Are you okay?" He said looking at me like I was crazy. I turned around and then looked back at him. "Yeah, I'm-fine. Please stop asking me that. What do you want?" I said looking at him. He glanced behind me again and then looked at me. "Were you just throwing up?" He asked scrunching his nose. I closed my eyes and hung my head.
"What do you want Chris?" I asked again, not answering his question. He just blinked at me, before sighing and looking down at his hands that were holding three water bottles. "Matt told me to bring these up to you" He said looking from the waters to me. I sighed looking at the waters. "But it looks like you already have enough" He said turning and looking at the four bottles of water already on my nightstand, unopened.
He had handed me two last night and when I woke up there were two more. I looked over to the other bottles. I groaned running my hands through my hair. I looked down at the ones in his hand before taking one out of his hand and walking over to the other ones placing it down.
"Can you please tell Matt to stop babying me? I don't want to be treated like I'm a baby who needs taking care of" I said glaring at Chris. He held his hands up. "Don't shoot the messenger" He smiled. I rolled my eyes. "He's just worried about your hydration" He chucked. I glared at him and looked down at the waters, tracing the top of one with one of my fingers. Chris looked down at me and sighed.
"Matt's just like that, you know that" Chris said defending him. I licked my lips and nodded. "I know, I just wish.....he wasn't. I don't know." I said shaking my head. Chris just stood next to me. "Maybe you should drink one. Maybe you threw up because you're dehydrated" He shrugged. I scoffed and shook my head.
He leaned over placing the other waters next to the others. "He's just trying to be there for you, because you know...your parents weren't" Chris said making me look up at him. "You don't know anything about my home life" I said crossing my arms. He raised his eyebrows and looked down at me.
"I know enough. I know it was bad enough that you showed up at out doorstep at 1am last night with a bag full of your stuff" He said glancing to the bag. I looked to the bag and then to him. I looked down at my feet.
"You're closed off and I get it." He explained. "No you don't" I shook my head. "You don't get it Chris" I said. "You don't get anything" I spat. "You don't get it because you have a mother who cooks you breakfast every morning and brothers you can talk to about anything" I said shaking my head.
"You don't have to worry about food on the table or if your dad is coming home that night" I said looking at him. "You never have to question your parents love or if you need to lock your door at night in case one of them gets angry" I said stepping towards him. "You never have to worry about if there's going to be presents under the tree Christmas morning and your heart doesn't drop when you see an empty bottle of vodka on the counter when you come home from school" I said as he stood over me.
"You hear your mother tell you she loves you every morning before handing you your lunch for that day" I shook my head. "So no Chris, you don't get it" I said narrowing my eyes. "So I appreciate you not treating me any differently, I do. Matt doesn't get that and you do, but don't sit here and try and tell me you understand when you don't." I finished looking up at him. His face didn't change as I yelled at him.
I shook my head and I moved past him but I felt his tug on the bottom of my shirt. "It's kind of funny, you yelling at me while wearing my shirt" He said glancing down at the shirt and then back up to my eyes. My face faded as I looked down at the shirt and then back up at him. "Your shirt?" I asked. He smiled and raised his eyebrows. I just blinked at him.
"You ready ?" Nick yelled as he walked through my door. Chris dropped the grip on the shirt and stepped back from me. I looked from Chris to Nick. Nick furrowed his eyebrows and looked at him. "What are you doing?" Nick asked him. Chris looked at the waters and pointed at them.
"I was bringing waters" He said putting his hands in his pockets. Nick looked at the waters and then into the hallway. "Tell Matt to stop being obsessed with hydration" Nick sighed walking in. Chris shurgged. "He thinks it heals everything thats not my fault" He chucked. Nick shook his head and looked at me.
"I want to go shopping" Nick clapped looking at me. I laughed and looked at him. Nick glanced to Chris who was still standing there. "You can go" He waved at him. Chris rolled his eyes and left the room
-
It's been two weeks since I moved into the Sturniolo's house. I'm feeling better. Nick's making it better. I sleep in his room ever other night and we laugh, watch movies, sing, dance. We do everything best friends do. It's amazing. I've gotten closer to Matt too. He's back off a bit so that's good. Chris was still harder to break through with. He'll hang out with us, but he mostly ignores me or if he does acknowdge me, he's making fun of me. Which I don't mind. It is what it is, but I still wish he would try like I do.
Now I was standing outside of the bathroom door banging on it. Chris knew I needed to shower and he's been in there for 30 minutes. He was doing it to enrage me. I knew he was. He ran into the bathroom as I walked to it with a towel in my hands. I knocked on the door again.
"Chris come on!" I yelled. I groaned and leaned against the wall as I heard the shower turn off. I sighed of relief. "Thank God" I mumbled to myself. A few seconds later the door was opening. the Lord could have never prepared me for what I saw when the door opened.
"Could you have-" I froze.
Chris stared back at me. His hair still dripping wet against his forehead. His towel hanging low on his waist and the fresh shave cleanly shown on his face. His eyes seem to have gotten bluer in the shower if that was even possible. Steam from the shower poured out into the hallway illuminating him like an angel walking out of heaven.
My voice froze. My body froze. My eyes scanned his body without permission from my brain as I glanced down to his toned stomach and the dangerously low towel that was leaving little to my imagination. Chris smirked up at me like he always did. I swallowed as my eyes met back to his.
"Cat got your tongue?" He asked leaning against the door frame. My cheeks caught on fire as I blinked at him. I cleared my throat. "No I just-" I said stumbling over my words. He laughed and shook his head as he turned and walked down the hall. I swallowed and pressed my hand against my face, I was burning up.
"Fuck" I whispered to myself. I turned and watched him as he walked and he briefly turned and met my eyes with the same smirk before opening his bedroom and walking in. I shook my head and walked into the bathroom and closed the door fast. As If I could erase the embarssment that had just happened outside if I closed the door fast enough. I closed my eyes and shook my head.
Y/n what are you doing? Looking at Chris like that? I opened my eyes and turned towards the sink seeing residue of a razor sitting on the counter along with cologne and necklaces that he had discarded when taking a shower.
"Fuck" I whispered again. It's just physical attraction. It's human nature. It's not that big of a deal. I thought to myself as I stood there pressed against the door. God that was horrifying. I shook my head as I reached in the shower before turning it on. A few minutes later I held my hand under it to feel a stream of cold water. My face hardened. Chris. I hated him again, never mind.
About an hour later I sat in Matt's room along with Nick. Matt was playing his video games while Nick and I sat and watched him, not really understanding what was going on. Matt removed one of muffs over his ear and turned to us.
"Can you go grab Chris? He was suppose to join the game an hour ago. I don't know what's taking him so long" Matt groaned. Nick looked over at me. "Can you? I'm comfy" He said as he wiggled in his blanket. I swallowed. "Uh, can't you?" I asked looking at him. I really didn't want to face him after what happened an hour ago. I just don't want him to tease me about it. After spending an entire cold shower thinking about it. It was just physical attraction. Nothing more. It's human nature. He's attractive under the normal girl-standard. That's it.
"Pleasseee" Nick whined. I looked down at him before groaning and standing up off the bed and walking out of Matt's room. My breath was unsteady as I walked down the hall towards Chris's room. Why was I acting like this? Why was I nervous? This was ridiculouis. I shook my head and my thoughts as I stood in front of his door.
I knocked lightly.
"Come in" I heard from the other side. I grabbed the handle opening the door slowly. Chris was pulling on a T-Shirt with his back towards me. I looked up. You've got to be kidding me. I looked back down at him as he turned around.
"Oh. Hey" He said looking at me. I didn't say anything. "I was wondering why someone was knocking and not just barging in" He smiled pushing his now dry hair back with his hand. I just blinked at him. He moved back over to his bed, picking up a sweatshirt and starting to put in on.
"Did you need something?" He asked smiling due to my silence. I took a breath in. "Yeah-right. Matt said that you were suppose to get on the game or something?" I said looking back and then towards him. He pulled the sweatshirt on and nodded. "Yeah I know, I'm about to get on" He said picking up his phone. I pursed my lips and nodded. Chris looked up at me and then to the side then back to me.
"Did you need anything else?" He asked raising his eyebrows. I blinked. "No! I just-" I looked down then back up at him. He just looked at me. My cheeks flared up again. God, I hate my body. He smiled and started to walk towards me. I stood frozen, like my feet were incapable of moving. I swallowed as he got closer and looked down at me. He stood so close he hovered over me just looking down at me. I just stared back at him. The air was still and it was silent between us. He narrowed his eyes down at me.
"How was your shower?" He whispered. I just blinked up at him. He was too close and too quiet to ask me that. "Cold" I whispered back breathless. He pursed his lips hiding a smile. His eyes glanced over my face.
"I think you've got a staring problem" He said hovering over me. I pursed my lips. "I think you've got an attitude problem" I breathed back. He smiled. "Maybe I do" He whispered back. I just blinked up at him, my heart beating out of my chest. His eyes trailed down my face and to my lips before looking back up in my eyes.
He stepped back before turning and grabbing his phone. I let go of a breath before turning and walking out of his room and closing the door, quickly retreating back to Matt's room. I opened the door and saw Nick scrolling through his phone and Matt studying the game in front of him.
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#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo
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angel
synopsis — sunghoon can’t seem to figure out if you’re human or an angel.
warnings — sunghoon is a lil tipsy but sobers up quickly (also idk how tipsy people act so sorry), mentions of drinking, reader is called pretty and has a purse
pairing — sunghoon x (implied) fem!reader
wordcount — 1197
a/n — happy late bday sunghoon! hope he had the best birthday ever
inspired by the song “angel” by keshi! also not proofread sorry
Sunghoon wasn’t having the greatest birthday of all time. After 21 years of his life he decides he likes this one the least.
It’s weird, he was supposed to be drunk and having fun at Jake’s apartment until the clock hit ungodly hours of the day, but instead it’s 9pm, and he’s more tipsy than he would like to be at a random bench in a park.
It’s not like he was kicked out or anything, but Jake’s apartment had become too stuffy for him and the smell of alcohol overwhelmed him and they had invited way too many people for his liking, so he decided it was best to go on a walk alone. He had no idea how or why he was now sitting on the bench.
Sunghoon has always been a people watcher, he enjoyed seeing others smile over news he had no idea about, or watching someone quickly walk to their destination, creating make-believe stories of where they’re going and why they’re going so fast.
There’s not many people around—scratch that, Sunghoon can’t spot anyone, but his vision is too disoriented to be trusted.
That’s when his eye catches you, strolling down the stone pathway—Wait were those angel wings?
His eyes squint towards you, unable to differentiate if you were wearing a scarf or were an actual angel from heaven, but he saw the grin on your face and figured you could easily pass for one.
You happily plop down on the other side of the bench, eyes scanning the scenery around you.
This immediately sobers him up, and he fixes his posture. Glancing over to him, you give him a smile, asking “What are you doing here so late at night?”
He’s unable to comprehend that you’re talking to him, as if the alcohol had come rushing back to his head and made him unable to think or even say anything to pretty people like you.
He finally finds his voice, replying, “It’s my birthday, and I’ve been out with my friends all day, but I needed some space for a little.”
Gasping at the mention of his birthday, you rummage through your purse, also saying “Why didn’t you say so! I don’t have a gift for you.”
He chuckled, shaking his hands, “You don’t have to give me a gift, we don’t even know each other's name yet, angel girl.” Looking up, you can feel warmth fill your cheeks at the name, quickly snapping out of it to search for something you can do.
“My name’s Y/n, what’s your name, birthday boy?”
Letting out an Ah-hah! You showcase a small lighter proudly in your hands, he mumbles your name to himself a couple of times, forcing it to go to his sober mind so he remembers everything.
You push the lighter, letting a flame fill the metal part, scooting next to him, you gesture for him to blow the fire out.
He smiles, blowing it out in one go, you clap your hands singing the words happy birthday over and over again. Maybe this birthday isn’t so bad.
“Sunghoon.”
“What?” You tilt your head slightly.
“My name, it’s Sunghoon.”
Nodding, you place the match carefully into your bag, “Well, Sunghoon, how does it feel to be—wait how old are you?”
You silently pray that you aren’t talking to anyone over the age of 24, crossing your fingers in your pocket and anxiously wait for his reply.
“I’m 21 today, got my first sip of alcohol!” He jokes.
Mentally letting out a sigh of relief, you make sure he isn’t left curious, “I’m 20! But anyways—how does it feel to be officially 21?”
He takes a breath, unsure where to start.
The truth is he’s terrified of growing old, having more responsibilities than he could ever imagine. Every year he’s inching closer to a time where he’s supposed to be successful, but all he feels is that he’s failed to do anything.
“Can I say something kind of personal?” Sunghoon decides it’s much better to be safe than sorry.
You nod, a soft smile grows on your face, “Tell me anything! I’m here to listen.”
“I feel kind of scared? I don’t think I’m ready for those kinds of responsibilities.”
Feeling bold, you gently take one of his hands, cupping it with your hands. His cold hands contrasts your warms ones, but you don’t mind.
“I think you’re underestimating yourself, Sunghoon. As you grow older—yes you’ll have more responsibilities but it’ll join your routine, then when you find that you have lots of responsibilities you’ll be so used to it that you won’t even notice a thing!”
He nods, taking in your advice word by word, “I guess I never really thought of it that way, thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”
You hum in reply, and a wave of silence washes over you two.
Turning your face up, you relish at the sight of the sky. Though the city won’t ever let the stars shine, you can still admire the moon, glimmering in the dark sky.
It's almost a full moon, and you swear you’ve never seen a sight prettier.
“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” You ask.
Sunghoon’s eyes widen slightly, but you don’t look over at him. He’s not sure that you understand the true meaning of it, considering you just met. So he brushed it off, agreeing with your question.
Though it’s hard to focus on the moon when there's a person right next to him, emulating a warm aura that he can’t help but mistake for something mystical.
You two sit in silence, both admiring the surreal sight ahead of you.
You finally look back at him, warmth filling your cheeks when you catch that he wasn’t even facing the moon the whole time. Looking away, he raises a hand to cover his face, you giggle, looking away just as flustered as him.
A sound of your cell phone rings through your ears, you begrudgingly pick it up, muttering an apology to him before answering the call. He doesn’t eavesdrop but he can tell it’s something important.
He’s proven right when you put the phone down, a frown on your face when you explain, “I gotta go—I’m so sorry! My sister needs urgent help with something, but have an amazing birthday Sunghoon.” You wave goodbye standing up and taking a few steps away.
He grabs your arm before you can go, turning you around so you’ll face him.
“Will I ever see you again?”
You chuckle, opening your bag to pull out a pen and an old napkin. Writing your number, you hand the napkin to him, leaving with the same grin that you had when he first spotted you.
He watches as you walk away, calling back your—what he assumes—sister to address the situation. He slouches back down when you’re out of view, checking the time he’s realized he’s been out for too long, so he races back to Jake’s house.
Walking back in he spots Jake, the boy hastily walks over to him, asking “Bro—where were you? We were looking for you.”
Sunghoon lets out five words, “I just met an angel.”
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KUROO—your husband, was happily washing the dishes and you're admiringly watching him with so much contentment in your heart.
Today’s his birthday, he changed a bit over the year. He looked more mature, yet as goofy as ever whistling while he rinsed the plate. Things seemed so mundane right now, but your heart was full.
You wrapped your arms around him from behind, your cheek squished against the broad of his back and his scent filled you in comfort. His heart dropped several floors down feeling your warmth around him. If he wasn’t holding something, he’d immediately hug you back.
Gone were the days when you both had extra time to celebrate outside. He had important things to do at work, and you had your fair share of tasks in the office too. Both of you were still even in your corporate clothes with him wearing the suit you gave him the last time. He ditched the coat off, leaving the gray vest on matched with the cute black cat on red tie, which was his favorite by the way.
For tonight, you made arrangements at home, agreeing that he’d take care of setting up a little something in your dining room while you dialed in for a takeout to have his favorite food for delivery instead. Now, he insisted to wash the dishes himself.
“I’m almost done,” Tetsu said, and you nuzzled closely against him, your embrace tightening. You clung to him like he's the most precious in this world, because he was...for this day, pfft. “You love me that much, huh?” he quipped, teasingly as usual.
“I do,” you answered.
It’s his birthday but it felt like you’re the one being blessed.
A few years ago, you never thought that you’d have someone like him in your arms like this.
For such a long time, the thought of being with someone was a faraway dream. There were countless nights when you’d cry yourself to sleep, wondering if there’s really someone for you out there. There were times when you wished you had a hand to grasp, arms that could wrap around you when you’re beat and tired. Someone who’d hold you close when you felt like giving up.
You spent days gaslighting yourself with the thought that you might not end up happy in a relationship in the first place. All those times, you’re so close to giving up on love and finding it.
Tetsurou turned around, facing you and enveloping you in his strong arms, he caressed your head and his eyes held so much love that you couldn’t explain. Everytime you looked at him you were reminded that dreams do come true.
“Who would have thought that I’d have someone like you?” He said as if he was talking to himself.
You smiled your tears away. You wanted to ask the heavens the same thing. Who would have thought that I’d have someone like him?
Slowly, he started swaying you and you rested your head on his chest. There’s no music on, just the sound of his heart in your ear and the sound of your peaceful breathing harmonizing together in your empty apartment.
It was so simple yet it’s everything you never thought you’d ask for.
“Thank you...” you murmured.
“For what?” he replied.
“For being born.” For being in my life, for being one of the greatest wishes granted to me. There’s a lot you’d like to say but you kept it inside, avoiding being dramatic as it was his birthday after all.
Tetsu sighed, “If any, I should be the most thankful,” he parted a little and lovingly caressed the top of your head. “Because I’m still alive and I still get to hold you close like this.”
Kuroo didn’t have a solid idea of what love could be like. He didn’t even have a family that showed him how, but in your arms, he found the home his heart had been searching for all this time.
He made many mistakes, broke many hearts and had his heart broken. Love existed only as a word for him until he met you and finally, he found someone who made that word something real, something he could finally believe in.
He probed into your eyes, seeking even deeper into your soul. You tiptoed, face closing in on his. Whispering, he asked, “Would it be cheesy if I say that you’re the best gift of my life?”
You chuckled and nodded your head in agreement. Silly, boy. Your silly boy.
“I guess I’ll just kiss you then...” Your husband grinned and you both giggled like highschoolers. He nuzzled on your cheek, giving it a small kiss, which made you turn for him to capture your sweet lips.
Tetsu had an arm around your waist and a hand cupping the back of your head, while you had your hands laced at his nape. He pulled your body close to his and dipped you back, kissing you deeply with such unbridled passion, intensity and love.
Scooping you up, he carried you in bridal style and broke the kiss with a ridiculous question.
“Can I unwrap my present now?” Birthday Boy asked with a cute pout.
You were chuckling and playfully returned, “What present?”
“The one in the pretty dress,” he replied with a mischievous grin.
You laughed as he took you inside the bedroom and threw you in bed. Soon, a squeal and fits of laughter were heard from your room and you both wouldn't have it any other way.
© quirrrky 2023 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.
#hubby birthday kuroo ❤️🖤#kuroo x reader#kuroo fluff#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu fluff#kuroo scenarios#kuroo drabble#kuroo x you#kuroo x y/n#kuroo tetsurou x reader
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MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE
pairing: jean kirstein x female reader
description: a few years after the successful peace negotiations, you and jean celebrate his first birthday with your new baby boy, but jean can’t help but look back on what it took to get to this day after dreaming of it as much as he could hope to live without breathing.
word count: 1.2k
also available to read on my ao3 here
author’s note: something short and sweet that’s not soul crushing angst. a shocker on my end, really. BUT, the attack on titan anime has finally ended. it’s like a chapter of my life is over, but a chapter ending only means a new one beginning. i always wanted to write something that depicted some sort of event after the end of the story, so it’s nice to fully bring that vision into fruition. i love writing for jean and i’ll miss him and the rest of the characters so very much, but the writing doesn’t end here for me! more content will come out of me until i get bored of it. i do, however, hope you enjoy this little fluff piece.
when dreaming about what life could be without titans or any worries, jean always knew what the perfect life would be for him. it was always consisted of the same fantasy; sitting out on a balcony with a glass of the finest liquor in hand, wife inside the house, and a newborn baby with the cutest, most innocent smile in his wife’s arms. the ideal daydream used to have a faceless woman, then mikasa took over for a brief second after being struck by her upon their first meeting, but now it’s been the same face for many, many years. since falling head over feet completely, jean could now only picture his future with you bearing his love and his children, and only that would be the perfect life for him. nothing else, just you.
sometimes jean wondered what life would be like if marco were still around. who would have died in his place instead of him that day? who would’ve had to deal with the pain of losing their best friend instead of him? would he live next door to jean’s dream home and babysit the kids whenever? jean liked to imagine marco as the perfect uncle. uncle marco. if only it could all be real. even so, all these years later, he was grateful for the life he had been given.
after years of hell fighting for the greater good, jean was finally able to settle down and live that perfect life he so desperately craved in his youth. he wasn’t very young anymore; small wrinkles began to form, his muscles grew tired far more easily, signs that he was starting to grow old, but not quite just yet. there was still more life to live, so much more he could live for.
today was jean’s birthday, and just like his teenage fantasies, he sat on a balcony with a glass of whiskey just as he imagined. the view of the town he lived in was great, but not the greatest. the only difference between jean’s dreams and his reality that there wasn’t a barrier between him and what he wanted most; you, holding your little baby boy in your arms.
caught in the middle of daydreaming, you emerge from inside the house and join jean on the balcony with your son. you gently grab the baby’s hand and pretend to act like he’s the one waving to jean, which makes him smile.
“does baby marco want to say hi to daddy?” you coo while jean looked at the two of you in awe. naming your child after marco was always in the cards, neither of you doubted it for a second when you both expressed wanting children. it was just the most beautiful thing in the world when he was finally born, after all this time of knowing what you wanted.
“here, lemme hold him.” jean offered, extending his arms out for baby marco. you carefully hand him over then sit down and watch as the infant reached his hands out to grab jean’s face, who was gently cradling him in his arms. “he’s getting so big now, i can’t even believe it.”
“i know.” you say with a smile on your face. “by the way, some letters came in the mail for you.”
“from who?” he questioned.
“armin and mikasa, of course. reiner and pieck too.” you began to ramble, listing off the names of all who sent letters for jean on his birthday. “oh, can’t forget connie. and then levi sent something that gabi and falco seemed to have signed—”
“so… pretty much everyone?” jean interrupted with a chuckle.
“queen historia as well.” you end off the list, giggling to yourself for forgetting such an important name. you simply can’t forget the queen, after all. “oopsie.”
“well, i oughta write everyone back as soon as possible.” he said, but you disagreed.
“you can write after cake, okay? i’ll go grab it now.” you say, standing up from your seat so you could head inside of the house.
“i told you i could make it.” jean insisted. “i don’t like making you do the work for me.”
although his words were sweet, you wouldn’t do that to him today out of all days. “make your own birthday cake? please. i’ll be right back.”
jean sat with baby marco close to him while you disappeared into the house for his birthday treat. you come back with a cake that has an array of lit candles, gently setting it down on the table as far away from the baby as possible. you take the baby out of jean’s hands while you sing happy birthday to him and sit across the table, your voice as soothing as the breeze.
when it was time for jean to blow out the candles and make a wish, he simply couldn’t think of anything to wish for. he finally had everything he ever wanted; the love of his life, a family of his own, and most importantly, peace. you both fought like hell a million times over to get here, doing things you regretted all the time. the past you shared together was ridden with sin, but the future didn’t have to be, and right now, the future was bright and golden like daylight.
if there was anything to possibly wish for, it was for things to stay just like this, so jean closed his eyes and blew out the candles and wished just for that. his eyes opened up to the sight of you and your son, and he was so happy to see it right in front of him.
“happy birthday, jean.” you say softly. baby marco beamed with the most innocent grin, his youthful laugh almost bringing jean to tears.
“thank you, my love.” he mustered up the words to say without crying.
jean insisted he cut the cake himself. seeing as you made it, this was the least he could do, and you didn’t argue. he sliced a piece for you first and set it down in front of you, watching as baby marco eyed the cake in complete awe.
jean’s eyes stray away from cutting his own piece as he found himself watching you with the baby. you were trying to eat your cake, but you couldn’t help but laugh at marco trying to get some of it from your fork.
“ah, no, no, no. you can’t have cake.” you coo, booping baby marco on the nose.
it was times like these that made jean so grateful. he captured even the smallest grain of a moment, cherishing every single one with the thought that tomorrow is not always promised, even when you two were free of the burdens of a solider saving humanity. no matter how many times he made a wish on some candies, there was always that “what if?” thought in the back of his brain that this some day would be taken away from him.
you look up and catch jean staring at you as if he were frozen, like he was taking a million pictures with his eyes. “what are you doing?”
“remembering this.” he simply replied, the best way he could put it all into words.
the love you had for each other and the life that’s been given to you would always be yours, all yours, and it would last beyond the very last breath both of you would take. in the end, all of the hardships were worth living to see this day.
© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3
#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#aot#aot x reader#snk x reader#snk#jean kirstein#jean kirstein x female reader#jean kirsten x reader#jean kirstein fanfiction#jean x reader#aot jean#snk jean#attack on titan x reader#shingeki no kyojin x reader#attack on titan fanfiction#shingeki no kyojin fanfiction#fluff#aot fluff#aot fanfiction#snk fanfiction#attack on titan fluff#snk fluff#shingeki no kyojin fluff#310802#pluto writes 📝
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project: make you love me (jyh) | sixteen.
♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.
—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 3.6k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, seonghwa, physical fighting, mingi calling his friend out on his stupidity, crying, sorry if i missed anything.. quickly edited this lol, yunho is just mad and overwhelmed with his feelings rn 😭
yunho: baby
yunho: wait at the science building later, please? i'll come get you so we can walk to my car together
you: okee ☺️
yunho: ☺️ see you later? enjoy the rest of your classes
you: you too, my bighead!
Yunho smiles at his phone before tucking it away, slowly following Yeosang to their group study session.
"Should I even ask why you're smiling like that?" Yunho looks up at Yeosang and chuckles.
"Just Y/N."
"Of course. Is she in class?"
"Yup. She's in the back row being all distracted."
"Perfect way to pass time in my honest opinion." Yeo clears his throat. "I've been meaning to ask you out of curiosity."
"What's up?"
"Have you guys told each other 'I love you' and everything?"
"Mm, no. Not yet at least."
"Not yet?" Yeosang smiles. "You feel that way for her, don't you?"
"I do. I just.. I don't know? I don't know if it's too soon. What if I scare her off?"
"Nah, doubt that. You can't put a timer on these things."
"True. Plus, it sounds cliché and like it's out of a movie, but I truly wanna wait 'till it feels right to say it to her."
"That makes sense."
"Trust me, I really do feel that way for her." He lets out a breath as they look towards the library building, the sun from behind slightly blinding them as they approach the doors. "She has literally become my bestfriend. It's crazy how life works."
"I know. I remember when you first told me you were helping her out for literature." Yeosang chuckles. "Or when you'd save her in the back lot."
"Still can't believe that was even real." Yunho does a tiny head tilt. "He's really something."
"What was up with Y/N's birthday thing? How did he even know?"
"I don't know. Word gets around fast. Why wouldn't Seonghwa know? Especially since it has to do with Y/N."
"Can't wait till the day he leaves you two alone. Must be fucking annoying to deal with."
"I try not to mind it. Though, I think he's been getting bolder lately and I can't put my finger on it."
"Has Y/N said anything?" He shakes his head.
"No. Maybe I'm just overthinking. She just seemed a little weird about him at her birthday party."
"Well, yeah. It's Seonghwa." Yeosang waves at their study group sitting at the far end of the library in the loud section.
"Yeah, but, I don't know. It was different. She seemed bothered about something but she hasn't told me anything. I assume it's not a big deal."
"Hm. Well, I'm sure it's not either. Just Seonghwa being himself, maybe."
"Mm, whatever though." Yunho greets the study group as they approach the table. "She's my girlfriend now, and that won't change." Yeosang gives him a small smile before they settle with the group and begin their long study session together.
"Remember, we have a test next class. Make sure you study everything I included in the study guide. Don't skip on anything just because you think it's a minor detail! Nothing is minor!" Your professor says before dismissing the class. You let out a sigh, already stressing over the next test. You didn't do bad on the first test, but you also didn't do the greatest. Thankfully, you're still at a good point in the semester, which gives you enough time to pull your grade up.
Once the initial rush of people leaving the classroom dies down, you pack up your things and head out the door. You hurry out of the classroom and down the steps, excited to see your boyfriend after yet another long day. For a split second, the building is crowded with other students leaving their classes and heading to their next destination— whether it be the next class, the library or to their cars. It's a sudden swarm of people that you don't even realize Seonghwa had stepped out of his own class, following you down the corridor.
"Y/N." You hear Seonghwa's voice behind you. You try to mind your own business, subtly rolling your eyes as you walk out of the science building to reunite with Yunho.
Except, he isn't exactly there yet and Seonghwa grabs you by the wrist.
"Y/N." He repeats, turning you to face him.
"What are you doing?" You question him.
"Just a second." You let out a loud, heavy sigh. "Why are you being like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like you ignoring me. You haven't answered any of my texts or calls—"
"Why do I need to?" You raise a brow. "You're not actually serious, right? I have no reason to respond to you, Seonghwa. Don't you have places to be, people to see?" You pause. "Don't you realize you're a little too late? This was something I needed from you way before. I don't need it from you now."
"I know it's late, but I don't wanna give up on this."
"This? This has been done for a long time, you and I both know that. You're only worried about losing the only safety blanket you've ever had. Why can't you just move on and let me be happy?"
"Happy?" Seonghwa almost scoffs. "With him? Okay, baby." He shakes his head. "Listen. Enough of this for real. Can you please just hear me out, I'll explain and apologize properly—"
"Seonghwa, stop calling me that. What don't you understand about no?" You say almost at a whine, his hand still having a grip on the edge of your wrist. You truly don't want to entertain this, but Seonghwa almost gives you no way out, no way around his bullshit, and unfortunately, that'll be the root of everything that unfolds tonight. Yunho is happily [and eagerly] making his way down to you after the long, heavy study group session, while Yeosang decides he's gonna stay behind in order to hit the gym and get his workout in. Yunho is a few minutes late, but he knows you'll still flash him that beautiful, million-watt smile he adores so much before wrapping your arms around him.
He can't wait.
But, Yunho slows in his steps just as he's close to the front doors; familiar voices filling the surprisingly empty, quiet space. It's you, and he already feels himself boiling with anger when he hears who else is occupying your time right now.
"Why haven't you even said anything about the flowers and the card I gave you? Did you even get them?" Yunho overhears Seonghwa ask you, and he furrows his brows. What flowers and card? You don't answer right away, and Seonghwa is quick to follow up. Yunho doesn't even get to hear your response about it and the most upsetting part of all this— is that this is how he finds out about everything.
Not from you, but from Seonghwa.
"You couldn't even send me a text? I was worried you didn't get it. I wanted to talk to you afterwards."
"What is there to talk about?"
"Yeah, what is there to talk about?" You and Seonghwa turn towards Yunho, who stands there with his hands dug deep into his pockets. His jaw is slightly clenched, head titled to the side while he waits for a response. Seonghwa lets out a pathetic chuckle, hand slipping down your wrist as he fully faces him.
"Loverboy sounds upset over a little talk."
"A little talk? Is that an add-on for the flowers and card you sent her?" Yunho sounds more stern, more angry. You can't even blame him, but at the same time, it's unusual for you to hear him this way. You're not sure what could come out of this and you don't necessarily want to find out.
"I'm sorry, should I have sent you some, too?" Seonghwa steps closer to him and the panic starts to settle in for you. You wish someone, anyone, was around to help. Because although you don't think Yunho will let this blow out of proportion, you aren't 100% about your answer. You're not sure how Yunho manages his anger in these situations and you're not sure what triggers him; what tips him over the edge and is the 'cherry on top.' Seonghwa has always rubbed him the wrong way and you don't think this could end remotely pretty. "I'll take note of that for next time so you don't have to sit there and stare at Y/N's."
How you wish Seonghwa had just gotten the point. Why couldn't he just let you be? Why was he out to ruin your happiness so badly?
"Seonghwa. This is done. Let it go." You warn him, but it doesn't clear anything. You aren't getting through to any of them.
"Back up. I'm not asking." Yunho clenches his jaw as he comes face to face with Seonghwa, making him give off a small scoff.
"Aw. Loverboy's mad—" And that's exactly the tipping point for Yunho. He's not sure why, he usually has a lot of patience. He usually brushes things off easily, doesn't hold a grudge or stay angry for long. But, Seonghwa? He was a different story, especially because of the history you have with him. Every little thing about Seonghwa pisses him off— down to the way he moves, breathes, acts like he can always get his way so easily, so quickly. Before he can even think about the consequences, or how you'd feel, Yunho swings at him, making Seonghwa stumble backwards.
"Yunho!—" You gasp, Yunho's initial punch is pretty rough that it had Seonghwa in shock before being able to register what just happened.
"Fuck you—" Is all Seonghwa spits out before going at Yunho. The two continue to go at it, pushing and gripping at each other's shirts, rough attempts at landing punches;
They're almost successful with tearing each other's heads off until you step in between and get involved.
"Stop!" You step in between to try and prevent the fight from escalating even more. "Stop it!" You push Seonghwa back when he tries coming for Yunho, a campus security guard dashing towards all of you to completely break up the scuffle.
"Knock it off! The hell are you two doing acting like this on campus? I suggest you two part ways now before we call the cops over!"
"Yo, what the fuck?!" Mingi comes from around the corner, grabbing at Seonghwa's arm to pull him back. "The fuck are you doing, dude?" He looks at his bestfriend in disbelief.
"Why don't you ask your friend who fucking started it—"
"Me?" Yunho spits, while Seonghwa wipes the blood at the corner of his lip. "I wouldn't have had to if you just knew how to back the fuck off!" Yunho is angry, continuing to raise his voice. "Let me catch you sending shit to my girlfriend one more time and see what the fuck I'll do—"
"Yunho." You say softly, tugging back at his arm.
"Are you serious?" Mingi looks at Seonghwa. "You don't go messing around with people's relationships, Hwa. You need to let this go, you look crazy!"
"Oh, so all of a sudden you're sticking up for your friend?"
"Yeah, because he is my friend and it's just shit you don't do! What the fuck don't you understand about that?! You fucking deserved that shit!" Mingi shakes his head before pushing Hwa forward, pulling him off to the side to continue talking to him.
"Babe." You turn to Yunho after Mingi and Seonghwa create good distance, hand coming up to cup Yunho's cheek. But, he turns, slightly shaking his head at you. You pull your hand back and feel your heart drop, the look in Yunho's eyes being one that you've never experienced before.
Sadness, hurt, anger.
Mostly sadness, hurt.
"What flowers was he talking about, Y/N?" His chest is still rising at a somewhat uneven pace, doing his best to calm down after the adrenaline rush.
"H-he left them at my doorstep after we came back from the snow. I'm really sorry, Yunho, I didn't tell you because I tossed it out and—"
"But still, it's the fact that you didn't tell me after all this time." Yunho's brows are tightly knitted together, and the look causes your heart to sink even deeper. "Why did you have to let me find out this way? Were you going to tell me about this too if I hadn't come right away?"
"I just didn't get around to telling you because I didn't think it would matter— Seonghwa doesn't matter."
"If he didn't, then wouldn't you be able to tell me without questioning it so much?"
"Yunho, no. I'm sorry, no." You repeat, tears pricking your eye lids. "I didn't mean for it to seem like that. I really didn't mean to hide this from you."
"Did you think about keeping them?"
"I—I, no. I thought—" Yunho hears you stuttering and his throat suddenly feels dry. Why can't you just tell him? Even if Seonghwa didn't matter to you, why couldn't you trust him enough to tell him?
Why couldn't you feel comfortable enough to tell him?
"Be honest with me, Y/N. That's all I've ever asked. Did you or did you not think about it keeping it?" Silence. And god, it is the most gut-wrenching silence Yunho has ever endured.
Yup. Got it.
The answer is clear.
You did think about Seonghwa. You thought about accepting the flowers as his apology, you thought about the possibility— even if it was for a brief, splitting second. Seonghwa did matter for one fucking second, and that's what bothers him.
"Yunho, please. I just thought—" You can barely get through your sentences.
"Did you, or did you not?"
"I thought about keeping it, but it was so stupid. I was just blinded for a second, and I realized it didn't matter to me. He doesn't matter to me. At all. I promise. Everything just caught me off guard." You try to grab for his hand but he steps back. "Yunho, it was all stupid. I tossed it out so quickly. I wasn't going to do anything, I wasn't going to text, nothing."
"But, why does it feel like after everything he's put you through, you still believe he'd genuinely change? Why does it feel like a part of you is still actually holding onto that?" Well, when Yunho says it to your face like that, you feel dumb. Not once did you ever think about running back to Seonghwa and leaving this behind. But, you were blinded in that quick second from your history with Hwa, being close and sharing moments for months. Asking Seonghwa for little gestures like this, for more attention; even though it was a ride, you still had history.
And yes, maybe at one point you wanted to be the girl that changed him.
But today, you can't even imagine going back to that point. Not after being with Yunho, not after the happiness he's brought you.
Not after you realize how much you genuinely and truly love Yunho.
You don't wanna lose him.
This is all so stupid, and a huge misunderstanding. But, you're the only person to blame here— if you hadn't given Seonghwa the time of day, if you had just told Yunho right away without second-guessing it, if you hadn't hesitated; you wouldn't be here right now.
"I'm not!" Your tone raises and it sounds like a whine at this point. "I'm not, Yunho. Please."
"Look, tonight was a lot." He sighs, running his hand through his hair before wincing and looking down at his knuckles. "I was excited to see you after a long day, Y/N. I was really looking forward to being with you. I wasn't expecting all of this and honestly, I don't know what's worse? Stumbling upon all of this the way I did, or not knowing at all."
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was stupid and fucked up of me, and I'm sorry." You repeat, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"Maybe you just need to think about what you really want." Yunho shrugs. "I thought you were over the whole thing with Seonghwa, but clearly not if you're still considering on giving him the time of day."
"No, no, Yunho. Please don't. It's not that." You try to lace your hand with his, but he gently brushes it off with a shaky sigh. He doesn't wanna leave you. He never wants to be without you. But, tonight was a lot for him to handle, and it is overwhelming. He hasn't really felt this protective over someone. Of course, it's only natural since you're his girlfriend. He'll always protect you. It's just that Seonghwa brings something out of him that he doesn't necessarily like, and he wants it to be gone for good. It feels unhealthy and icky;
The anger, the frustration, the anxiety.
He hates it. And he doesn't want this to be a thing in your relationship. Plus, he still feels himself fuming with anger and he just can't possibly talk to you while he feels that way.
So yes, he's overwhelmed and he needs to get over this.
"No, seriously. You really should think about it. I know where I stand but I'm not so sure you do." He lets out another disappointed sigh. "I'll take you home, but we should probably just be in our own places tonight."
"Okay." You say close to a whisper, sniffling as you wipe away at your face. You don't even try to fight it anymore simply because you know Yunho needs his space right now. He begins to walk off with you slowly trailing behind, head hung low after everything that happened tonight. Everything happened so fast you're also having to process it all on this walk over to the lot. Suddenly, you're pulled out of your thoughts when you hear footsteps picking up behind you, followed by a familiar, deep voice.
"Yo, wait up!" Mingi says. "You good? I'm sorry about him, he's actually losing it."
"You're sorry? Mingi, when the fuck is your friend gonna grow up so that you're not apologizing on his behalf?" Mingi lets out a breath as his eyes dart from you, back to Yunho's. "Seriously. I don't mean to throw that your way, but it's not even just about tonight. Your friend knows no boundaries and that's crazy to me."
"I know, he's got things to sort through but that's his own problem now. I already told him multiple times. Me and San did." Mingi shakes his head.
"Doesn't take much to grow the fuck up and take ownership of your own fuck-ups once in awhile."
"Let him keep learning the hard way. He will, eventually. He deserved that tonight."
"He can try all he wants, nothing's gonna change between me and her. Hope he understands I'm not going anywhere after tonight."
"Of course." Is all Mingi could respond with because of course Yunho wouldn't go anywhere— why the fuck would he let Seonghwa get in the way? He shouldn't. And Seonghwa needs to know that. "Anyway, just wanted to see if you two were okay. For real." Yunho sighs.
"Mmyeah. Thanks." He responds as Mingi daps it up. "We're just gonna head home."
"Drive safely. Text me if you need me." Mingi gives you a small smile before running off to tend to his friends, San now also getting dragged into all his mess.
The walk over is quiet, but Yunho still opens the passenger door for you when you finally get to his car. You hate the silence that falls between you two, but you understand Yunho is upset and needs his own time away from everything, from you, even. You can't help but cry even more into your hands when he pulls into the apartment lot, Yunho letting out a breath as he puts the car in park. He looks over at you and his heart breaks because he truly hates to see you cry, and he never wants to be the reason behind you being sad or hurt.
"Hey. Don't." He says softly, hands coming up to pry your own hands away from your face. He gently wipes the tears away, making sure no drop is missed.
"I'm sorry, Yuyu." You repeat.
"I know, it's okay." He says, even though right now, it's not.
"Is it?"
"Let's get you home, okay?" He just looks at you with a soft expression before unbuckling his seatbelt. He comes over to open your door, locking his car when you step out and slowly make your way to your apartment. When you get to the steps, you turn towards him with a small pout. Yunho pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, wiping any remaining stragglers from staining your cheeks. He's not happy, but he's trying to send you off on a calm note— hoping this could at least ease you for the night. "Get some rest."
"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" He doesn't say anything before he pulls away and takes a few steps backwards. "Yunho." You call for him in that tone of yours that always makes him so weak.
"Y/N, please. I just need to shake this off. That's all. Goodnight." All you can do is simply walk away before running up the steps and into your apartment. Chaery is the only one home, cleaning her dishes after cooking a good meal for all of you to share.
"My love is home! I cooked!" She says happily, but her smile dies when she sees you set your bags down and cry into your hands. She drops everything and rushes over, throwing her arms around you while guiding you to the couch. "Hey, what's wrong? What happened?" She brushes the hair away from your face while you continue to cry. You don't respond for a bit, signaling for Chaery to just hold you and let you be.
You cry, and you cry.
Because you already miss Yunho, and you feel so dumb for overthinking the entire thing, for not being honest with him. It was a stupid mistake, but you hope Yunho knows you truly weren't out to hurt him.
You hope he can forgive you and move past this— with you, together.
Because today and so on, he's all you want. You love Yunho, and there's no one else that completes you the way that he does.
♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintificreads @primoppang @betray-the-light @aurorasjoongie @wineyoungie @yunhotteokkk @yungigiggles @jaerisdiction @ignoretheskies @luminouskalopsia @naeviscall @vixensss @choisansplushie @arya9111 @my-lightspirit @dazednconfusion @astro-doll-the-star @faesmingi @idfkeddieishot @startinystay @emily505 @mgdixon @mcsalterego @cheynalexilaiho @svintsandghosts @mismatchfluffysocks
#yunho fanfic#yunho series#jeong yunho series#jeong yunho fanfic#ateez series#ateez x reader#ateez#yunho#jeong yunho#yunho x reader#jeong yunho x reader#ateez imagines#kpop imagines#yunho smut#yunho fluff#yunho angst#jeong yunho smut#jeong yunho fluff#jeong yunho angst#hwaslayer: project make you love me
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. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 DRIP IT DOWN, ETERNAL BLISS ; a fyodor dostoyevsky fic. ❞
أنت قاسي، قلبي لا يزال ينبض لك. بنفس الطريقة التي تكون بها الشمس قاتلة، إلا أن الأرض لا تزال تدور حولها. في ساحة المعركة، دعهم يعرفون أنني كنت الأشجع. لكن أمام دموعك عندما أرادت رباطة جأشي أن تهرب. أوه هل كنت أحمق؟ كل العشاق هم. هل ما زلت أحمق؟ لا، أنا مجرد عاشق دون حبه، عاشق تجرد من كبريائه. رجل حرم من سعادته كأنها حمامة بلا جناحيها.
you are cruel, my heart still beats for you.
the same way the sun is deadly, yet the earth still revolves around it.
In a battlefield, let them know I was the bravest.
Yet infront of your tears is when my composure wanted to flee away.
Oh was I a fool?
All lovers are.
Am I still a fool?
No, i'm just a lover without his love,
A lover stripped of his pride.
A man depraved of his happiness,
Like without its wings, is a dove.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . it's my birthday week so a present from me ♡.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . fem!reader, vampire!fyodor, immortal!fyodor, husband!fyodor, wife!reader, established relationship, nsfw, blood play, religious themes used, God referred to as Him, biting, set in old russia, abuse is normalized, 'sweet child' has been used once as a nickname to put emphasis on fyodor being immortal, reader has been given traits like 'pure' and 'innocence' for the reason of again, putting an emphasis on fyodor, his immorality and him being a vampire.
the clouds roared and the thunders proudly announced the arrival of an upcoming storm, letting everyone below the vast sky of this specific region of russia whose name you never had the privilege of knowing despite growing up here as a infant, know of the dangers the grey and almost black sky is going to bring in a matter of time.
in a matter of a few hours or even less, most of the land below will be covered, almost drowned with the water as peasants would begin to curse while they picked their trash and transferred it upstairs or try to find shelter with all their possessions on top of their heads.
yet you did not have time left to ponder over what the peasant man will do to fight this unexpected disaster as the sound of footsteps reverberated through the otherwise silent hall of the mansion and you turned almost at once to see the man who owned this mansion walk in, his expression as cold and confident as it was the first time you saw him yet what paired with his pale skin and maroon, crisp shirt was a cut running through the length of his neck and disappeared behind but you guessed it must've ended near his shoulder blade.
the man raised his eyes and you dare not refer to him with his name unless you stand on a stage where your intellect and personality can clash against his -- these were the words that were punctured into your mind by the most gentle of mothers but also the most cruel of women who had fallen from their high class, married to a peasant for the sake of a promise made by fathers who they never saw.
"you are hurt." you quietly observed as you stared up at his delicately cruel and cold face, holding your chin high to not let your nervousness be disclosed.
but he had seen it, he sees it all.
he had tilted his head and raised his hand to probably run it through the gushing wound, had you not taken quick strides to grab his wrist and stop him from doing so.
"what had gathered your interest so immensely that had you staring out of the window for the past fifteen minutes?" fyodor, the man you are married to and which is considered to be the greatest achievement of your life ; to be chosen by him, grabbed your wrist which was holding his own and pulled you in closer.
your nose bumped against his shoulder and you immediately and unconsciously breathed in his scent for it was always oddly comforting, fyodor smelled of old books and oud yet the distinct crisp smell of the outside greenery also mixed in with his scent.
fyodor looked down to watch your composure crumbling as you grew nervous and tense when he raised his other hand to wrap it around your lower back, pushing you to be more closer to him.
to watch you drop the mask and show your vulnerability whenever he did gestures like this was too pleasurable and amusing for him. coming from a place where love and affection or even peace are concepts which are only available for one to hear and fantasize about, you never got used to being showered by the attention and interest of your husband ; a man notorious and admirable at the same time.
"it looks like it'll rain heavily." you speak quickly and nervously as you raise your head to look at fyodor, a childlike nervousness in your eyes ; the kind which is seen in a child when he arrives at a new place or is pushed to introduce themselves by their parents to adults whose friendly smiles are nothing but scary and ugly curls on their scary faces.
yet with that childlike nervousness, your eyes also held the wisdom and knowledge of a man given mercy after being brought to be beheaded ; this beheaded man who had calculated the time he had left before his head would be cut from his neck and who watched his surroundings and himself for the last time with an incredible understanding. you looked like you wanted to cry yet at the same time didn't want to move away from him, like a child who clings to his mother after being smacked by the mother.
the innocence in you had attracted fyodor who had seen so much that he forgot if he ever was innocent once.
he tilted his head down and your eyes fluttered shut, his lips gently came in contact with your eyelid as he left a kiss there before doing the same with your other eyelid and he leaned back to whisper,
"do you really have no one to go to?"
"you are my husband, you are my everything now. i'll go wherever you go and i'll go wherever you tell me to." why is it that your nervous and anxious voice had more impact then those of philosophers and kings he have heard?
fyodor led you by your waist to the couches where he sat on one of the velvet armchairs and pulled you to sit on his knee, staring up at you with no expression on his face yet his eyes weren't sharp like they always were when he talked to others, no, his eyes were soft.
"i spoke of you to a friend of mine. he too was amazed when i told him what a sweet little wife i have chosen for myself. i told him how i immediately make you sit on my knees whenever i come back and watch you shyly and at other times nervously squirm under my gaze." fyodor began as he played with the hem of your white robe under which the only article of clothing on your body was a white babydoll nightgown but your eyes were glued to the way the cut on his neck from just a few minutes ago disappeared and his skin appeared as if he never had any wound to begin with.
does this explain his beauty too?
one which is considered otherworldly and which exceeds the one of both women and men? for how can he look so delicate yet intelligent at the same time?
"he asked me why. can you believe he would ask something so obvious? has his age been playing a factor in asking such a idiotic question?"
". . .i wonder the same too sir. why?" you raise your eyes to look in his eyes again and fyodor raised one of his eyebrows but didn't look up or stop playing with your robe. he had just changed his action to now playing with the knot of your robe and he only hummed before he spoke,
"i am a man who thinks his wife should not be influenced by traditions or societal influence but by the word of Him and after Him, by me. please refrain from referring to me with titles that are meant for others." fyodor explained gently yet the warning in disguise in tone made you immediately nod and fyodor almost smiled, not quite, you supposed you would have to work harder and please him more to get the privilege of seeing him smile.
"alright then, . . . dostoyevsky. please do answer my previous question." you hesitate before you attempt again to dive into the surface of his mind to try and understand him, to take a step closer to get him to warm up to you in a way you are familiar too -- directly, not subtly like he does.
for greed is felt by humans and humans aren't angels filled with virtues, they sin and sin and then they beg for forgiveness before they sin again ; and everytime they repent, He forgives them and showers them with His mercy.
you raised your finger to gently trace his nose. your fingers felt cold on his skin, ironically, as usually it is him who has skin as cold as the cold walls of a room during a winter night. so why would he feel your touch to be cold?
cold to the touch, soothing to the sensation. a normal and well known gesture, a foreign feeling it bloomed within.
"i like pretty girls like you who are obedient and quiet yet also playful." fyodor muttured as he let you raised your fingers to the corners of his lips, pressing it against his skin and turning it up and down as you tried to make him smile and frown but the thought that itched at the back of your skull remained one you've thought of before as well ; when he would smile for real, would you feel breathless or would would rather feel groundless as the ground beneath you disappears to make you float in air?
"i am not that pretty. many others were prettier. though mother always told me i would be picked to be the bride of a nobleman over the preety ones due to my obedience. and at other instances, she smacked me with her bible till my skin cracked and i truly resembled what she would call the 'devil's nasty joke' on her, to be given a child who is ordinary in beauty unlike her." you tell as you pull on his upper lip to reveal his sharp canines which separates him from the rest and let his identity be known, gazing at the unusual sharpness -- to you, a human --with curiosity as you raise your finger to poke at the tip of his teeth.
a supernatural being, an immortal man, a vampire possessing great beauty and a man who is cursed by knowledge yet blessed by wisdom.
"your mother is preety but she has a loud mouth. i always liked when the women around me had strong opinions and strong will yet with an equally gentle mouth." fyodor interjected calmly as he then lightly sinked his teeth into the plush of your fingerpad, amusement glowed in his eyes when he felt you jerk a bit due to the unexpected teasing.
"and i do?" you ask in somewhat interest and somewhat surprise as your pupils fall on his face once again to see amusement dripping down his own eyes as he didn't answer you, didn't want to give you the relief of having your curiosity answered.
"sweet child, you make me feel divine." is all the ancient vampire breathed out and to save yourself from becoming a shy and nervous mess infront of your husband, you quickly change the topic.
"if you bite me, will it hurt?" your change in topic is abrupt but adorable. you leaned down to look at his sharp teeth better and in your eyes were the wonder and thoughts and assumptions and theories of what it would feel like to be bitten by him, to have your skin pierced by his teeth, to have his breath fanning your skin and to have his arms caressing the supple flesh of your ass, you blinked. then coughed nervously at the thoughts in your hand.
"hm, it will. alot." fyodor opted for a whisper to tease you as he looked at you but he sensed it, felt it and realised it all. the subtle clenching of your legs and the quick blinking once you realised your own thoughts and how they circled concupiscence.
"really? i feel like you are lying." adorable efforts and adorable suspicion as you timidly smile at him and fyodor hummed before he grabbed your hand (which had been poking and inspecting his sharp teeth) while he began to move his knee up and down and watched how your shoulders tensed before relaxing as you tried not to notice the slight pleasure his movements are giving you.
to ignore the way his knee bucked into your crotch everytime he moved his knee and how your panties were pushed towards your folds by his movement, you looked at fyodor to see him raise your wrist towards his lips.
". . .si --" you stop, immediately correcting yourself when fyodor's grip on your wrist tightened, "-- dostoyevsky, what are you doing?"
you did not need to ask, you knew he would be answering your curiosity in a way that it would leave you satisfied and without any more doubts but the time period before he does so is of now and this time period is making your heart beat faster in anticipation and erotic joy due to the movement of his knee.
"quiet. love." he muttered out.
oh he did, he certainly did!
he used the pet name again. and again, he watched. he watched as you whimpered quietly and nodded, falling silent as you can't bring yourself to look at him, shyly staring at his mouth and waiting for him to proceed with his action.
with a strange calmness, you waited and watched. fyodor found it amusing how a mere nickname got you squirming but his action didn't.
parting his lips to sink his sharp teeth into your wrist where your veins were visible, fyodor perked up at the reaction he craved out of you, which came late, a gasp of surprise.
a melody fyodor wanted to engrave into the depths of his mind.
"you lied dostoyevsky, it doesn't hurt at all." you speak after a few seconds of silence as you inspect the way the blood flowing through your veins entered his mouth and flowed down his throat, was it like water to him or did he have separates tubes and enzymes for this blood -- your blood.
"it doesn't?" fyodor whispered out to tease you with a faux surprised tone before continuing, "then what does it feel like, love?"
the nickname sits nicely on his tongue and he likes the way it rolls off his tongue and the effect it has on you.
"have you not heard it before from your previous wives?" you tilt your head, the ecstacy of having his thumb run across your wrist as he tries to soothe the piercing and churning like pain from your wrist is what is making your tongue so loose and sharp. yet when the depth of your words settled on your tongue, your heart sank. what did you just say?
"you are my first wife."
"oh."
"oh indeed." fyodor repeated with a smirk, the only closest thing to a smile you assume you'll see because there is no way fyodor would smile or even talk to you after the way you've disrespected him.
he may not be showing it but a man doesn't like being disrespectful and a respected man knows the clear line separating playful teasing with sugar-coated snarky remarks.
you aren't one though. you are young and naive and you mix up silent amusement for having taken offence. your hands shake in fear of these negative thoughts walking in your mind being true.
a thing to be noticed before going further is the use of 'sharp teeth' or 'sharp canines' instead of 'fangs'. the use of such terms instead of the other and more commonly known one is due to your stubbornness.
fyodor may be a vampire but he is not an animal and so, you try your best to view him as a human but he isn't one and so, unconsciously the words like 'canine' pop out.
old habits do die hard and old traditions are just someone's expectations and way of living being forced onto others.
fyodor knew it, he always did. nothing escapes his eyes afterall. and has anyone wondered what this would make him feel?
such a naively idiotic way of thinking that only humans are capable of as they spend lives in misery or happiness which is actually delusion in disguise.
"p-please forgive me dostoye --"
your words were cut off as the man leaned to place his lips on your's, the metallic taste in his mouth lingered and entered your's albeit faintly and was soon washed away by his saliva. your eyes were open in wide and visible surprise yet once fyodor separated, as if to just remember the feeling of your lips on his for memories have always been his companion.
and memories are the only thing as immortal as him, as ever living as him and as enchanting as him.
"call my name again." fyodor whispered out as he felt the hair on his nape rising as if to welcome the doom of him and of his heart.
falling for a mere mortal, oh, what a tragedy!
indeed, it is Him laughing at fyodor for the predicament He himself placed on him, he is sure of this much.
oh father, why has thou forsaken him?
why be so cruel to let him fall into the garden of love, it's a sin for someone like him. a sin he is committing on himself.
to love is to die for. to die for is to love.
"dostoyevsky?" oh.
heavens and the angels residing in it, is this a curse or a blessing?
fyodor closed his eyes and tilted his head up to exhale deeply as he needed a moment to process and to repeat the frail call of his name in his mind, he felt giddy and he felt disgustingly giddy.
"once more." fyodor demanded in a whisper as he tried to find his way through this garden where flowers bloomed and the sunlight showered on trees and the ground, making them relish this light falling upon them. this place doesn't feel hostile but unfamiliar and fyodor knows the dangers lurking behind that which is unfamiliar.
"dostoyevsky." you had gasped out this time when fyodor's hand, as if it had a will of its own, dipped in between both of your legs to grasp the under of your thigh and fyodor let out a satisfied breath.
"once more." he repeated his previous words. the flowers moved in one particular direction with the wind and fyodor, with skepticism guarding him, followed the path it pointed at.
"dostoyevsky. are you alright?" you leaned forwards to cup his pale yet extremely handsome face between both of your hands as you tilted his head down and after thinking for a few seconds on what to do, you leaned to leave a gentle peck on the tip of his nose as your eyes fluttered shut while doing so, due to shyness.
this doesn't make sense. fyodor thought as he stood at the destination the garden seemed him to want to arrive at yet all he saw a vast ocean which spreaded till infinity and the sun's reflection on the surface of the water was nothing special.
yet when you kissed the tip of his nose, there was a movement in the still water and fyodor felt himself getting irked at the slow realization. the ripples in the water slowed along his heartbeat.
love is like a ocean, deep and mysterious and no matter how much one tries, has there really been anyone who ever understood the sin that love is?
". . . seventy three." fyodor uttered slowly as he opened his eyes and stared at you.
"pardon?"
"this is the seventy third time i smelt the arousal oozing out of you, my love." fyodor mumbled to you in amusement as he watched whatever confidence was left in you, vanishing and crumbling.
you knew it would be of no use to make an excuse or lie, he would see through you anyway.
perhaps fyodor noticed your chain of thoughts as well as fyodor's hand which was grabbing the under of your thigh, lifted it up to have your legs parted and your core to be completely vulnerable to him and he tapped your cunt with his knuckles making your breath hitch.
"hormones, they give away many things about someone. the excited signals in your brain and your heartbeat -- they give away a human and his intentions very quickly." fyodor further explained even if he knew you, or any human, would be able to fully grasp for this is far beyond what the human mind is functioned and trained to think.
"remove." fyodor quietly ordered and you nodded quickly, breathing pattern uneven and not in rhythm is just making it more evident of how spot on he is when he caught you red handed.
caught you? but what is their to catch? it's not a crime to feel aroused by your husband who only touched you no more then thrice during your nearly reaching one year of marriage.
you slowly yet carefully undo the knot of your robe before fyodor raised his hand to push the robe down your arms and onto his lap as he removed it, his hand trailed down the length of your arms as he did so and when you moved to find a more comfortable position to sit on his knee, the prior protection of the robe now stripped away to let his eyes fall upon every curve and every inch of skin uncovered along with the feeling of your core moving against his knee, the primal urge took over fyodor.
even a vampire has instincts and primal urges that he can ignore for a long time but can never be free of it.
the babydoll nightgown did the purpose it had, to tempt the man who parted his lips to let his tongue out and moisten the bottom lip, in a attempt to feel anything other then the arousal burning through his veins.
fyodor abandoned your thigh and raised his hand to place it over your neck and added pressure to it as he glided his hand down to make you feel a small and faint burning sensation as he did so and you did.
but what followed his action, this simple test, is the result he was hoping for.
for the reason behind this action of his was to hear your breath hitching in your throat as if your body suddenly forgot the way it naturally worked. your heart hammered in your chest but you still ignored it to let out the words,
"if my obvious arousal for you is so obvious . . . dostoyevsky. then . . " you trail off to stare at his face and you smile a bit, nervously before it falls down from your face and you are once again left to be anxious at the reaction he will have but you cannot stop now, not when the subtle way his tongue lapped on your wrist when he sucked your blood is still something you can feel like a shadow lurking behind a traveler on a full moon light.
you take a deep breath before shakily raising your hand to place it on his collarbone and after looking at his face for any signs of displeasure and not getting any, you begin to caress his collarbone.
"then why be so cruel as to not relieve you of it? is this it? is this what you wanted to say?" fyodor smirked again as he took in the sight of the surprise dancing at every nook and crook of your facial features.
and with a slow nod, you watch as fyodor leaned near you to peck the tip of your nose and then leaned his head down to lick a strip up your cheek towards your cheekbone as his eyes narrowed.
"beg for it if you are so desperate." fyodor muttured against your cheek, you close your eyes.
"you are my husband. it's your duty to satisfy me." you murmur back but due to your eyes being closed, you missed the chance of seeing his lips curve up into a amused smile just the slightest bit as your words brought up a sense of amusement.
playful. oh how much fyodor likes these moments.
"you ruin my reputation. don't you know i'm not supposed to be this gentle, my love?" fyodor sighed out as he decided to adopt a more serious and sincere mood, letting the playfulness in his evaporate in thin air.
but desire, oh it precipitated when fyodor's hand traveled down to raise your nightgown up and he then used his hand to grab hold of the back of your thigh to part it and have your cunt be more visible to him as your underwear showed a wet patch.
"is it my fault?" you ask with a nervous smile and shaky breath, a smile that doesn't fail to convey your affection and anticipation for the man who nodded. rather then answering his playful accusation, you raise your slightly trembling hands to pull the hair tie that had been keeping your hair in one place. "may i?"
once fyodor nodded to grant you the permission to do as you wish, you leaned a bit forwards as you used both hands to gather his hair and style it in a ponytail as a means to distract yourself from the hammering of your heart due to excitement.
yet fyodor must have sensed your intentions and this is why he immediately grasped both of your thighs in his hold, lifting you up slightly as he shifted his body to lay you down on the couch next to the armchair you two were occupying till now.
fyodor isn't a man of many words so during such an intimate moment, his eyes did the talking and it made blood to crawl up your skin under the intense and hot gaze of his eyes which were narrowed, a glint in them so unnatural and unhuman that it made you aware (that is, if you forgot of his nature for a moment) of the genetic and biological difference between you two.
you nervously held your breath as fyodor sat on his knees above you, still holding both of your thighs apart after which he raised his eyes to look into your eyes and the way his lips parted as he smirked, his fangs glinted due to the light falling on them.
"not gonna beg me?" fyodor asked again yet his usually calm and stable voice had noticeably dropped a few octaves, sounding extremely arousing considering the state you are in and the way his words are being partnered up with his fingers which caressed your calves.
you take a deep breath but it doesn't calm your nerves for whoever talks big about being level-headed and calm must've never been under fyodor dostoyevsky when he is smirking and pridefully showing off his fangs while sweatbeads forms on the sides of his lips and frankly, you hope no one ever gets the privilege after you die.
selfish but that's what makes us human.
"n- i mean yes . . .er no, wait --" you stutter while watching fyodor raise your leg towards his mouth as he placed a soft kiss on your ankle before he began his journey higher up your leg and every kiss which followed from here on became unique due to being accompanied by a quick nibble on your skin, his tongue licking your leg or even bluntly biting your skin.
"time is running, love." fyodor murmured against your leg as his eyes stared up at you and you parted your lips but what were you even going to speak when no words in your favor were forming in your head?
you lay your head on the couch cushion as you let out a breathy whine, a sound fyodor himself greedily repeated in his mind but originality always reigned over mimicry.
with each kiss traveling upwards the length of your leg, fyodor leaned down and down instead of raising your leg higher.
"time isn't one to wait for anyone. not even for a man like me. so tell me, are you going to beg or not?" voice turned sharp, a breath was stolen from your windpipe cruelly when fyodor's lips reached your inner thighs and he clamped his mouth shut, sinking his teeth into the fat of your thigh.
you could feel it as his fangs pierced your layers of skin and flesh, drawing out blood and gifting you with a shrill kind of pain but it soon turned into something else you can't comprehend when fyodor began to suck on the abused area, it didn't pain yet neither did it feel good -- it felt something in between.
your eyebrows furrowed in thought as you tried to comprehend this sensation which is very new to you. fyodor raised his eyes again to watch you and once he found you behaving the way he wanted ; distracted, his lithe fingers slipped past your panty and entered your hole without any warning which made you jerk up as you let out a squeal of surprise while at the same time, your hole sucked his lithe middle finger in and made him let out a hum of approval.
"dostoyevsky --" you were not able to speak as the moment you called his name, fyodor pulled his finger out and thrusted into your wet entrance again and suddenly the sucking on your thigh is making sense, now that his finger is slowly moving in and out of you, you feel his mouth on your thigh is only adding to the anticipation and arousal building in you.
"that's my name, yes." fyodor smirked cruelly as he stopped the movement of his finger as it settled knuckle deep into your hole and he lifted his head to stare at the two small circles on your thigh and the nearly red skin around it.
fyodor stopped holding your other leg and used his free hand to pluck a few strands of free hair that the ponytail wasn't able to cage, behind his ear as he stared down at your panting form with a calculative gaze.
"i do not entertain brats. you want something? you be a good girl and nicely request for it --"
"please dostoy?"
fyodor let out a sharp breath as he raised his eyebrow, a silent order for you to repeat yourself and you do, leaning up on your elbows as the strap of your babydoll nightgown dropped down your shoulder, you timidly repeat yourself,
"please dostoyevsky. please?" you do not go in detail of what you want due to shyness and shame. fyodor doesn't mind as the moment the three words left your lips, a low growl of your name emitted from his throat as he immediately leaned forwards and tore the straps apart, the fabric of the nightgown teared into two by his hands as they pulled the fabric apart to reveal your naked breasts to him.
fyodor lowered himself on you, between both of your legs and your wet core as he lowered his mouth on one of your nipples and touched it with the tip of his fang, making you shudder.
at the same time, fyodor's lithe fingers swiped up some of the oozing blood from your thigh and brought it towards your lips, shoving his finger inside your warm mouth when you parted your lips and the small hum of disapproval at the ironic taste of blood had fyodor grazing your nipple with his sharp fang, providing a ticklish yet arousing sensation.
the short moment of tease died when fyodor moved himself up and pressed his crotch down on your core, making you shudder as your back arched. taking this chance, fyodor's hand traveled to your back and he immediately and harshly pushed down your panties, letting them pool by your feet as he did not bother to take them off fully due to being impatient which is out of character for him but when have someone actually stayed fully composed when the nimble hands of lust slowly dragged themselves down the abdomen of the person they are affecting.
due to the confinement of his pants, fyodor's dick pressed against your core when he pressed down, a painful kind of pleasure traveled to his body and he found himself doing it again and again, letting out short hisses at the painfully addicting and mind numbing sensation.
"dostoyevsky please. i need you so bad -- want you so badl -- m-mhmm." you closed your eyes when fyodor lowered his mouth and bit down on your skin below your breast, hard enough to draw blood but the pain was evened out by him dry humping against you.
"you make a man loose his mind." fyodor gritted his teeth before he whispered something in a language foreign to you, perhaps an ancient language and by the familiarity of the word, he was cursing for you remember the same word being used in multiple occasions with a frustrated tone, why would he curse?
for he wanted to do to many things, feel too many sensations and give you too much pleasure but alas, he two, has only two hands yet his brain, oh, his brain is a wonderful organ and works better then most of those who walked on this earth and perished on it.
"so much, so so much." fyodor muttered again in a language you understood and spoke since the beginning of your existence after you gained enough conscience to use verbal communication. he messily and clumsily undid his belt, removing his pants and practically kicking them off his feet, he let out short pants and his eyebrows were furrowed ; a sight enough to make you cum and fyodor noticed your hole sucking in air and so, he immediately pinched your labia in such a manner that between both of your lips was your clit as a prisoner of pleasure.
"you make me loose my mind so much. make me loose my morals and forget my manners." fyodor continued as he released his hold on your folds for a second to let the pleasure vanish before he pinched them again and as your folds squished around your clit, you let out a small sigh akin to a quiet moan.
"do you know how many times i've thought about bending you in a public place and taking you?" fyodor groaned at the remembrance of his perverted fantasies, he leaned down to bite on your skin again and this time, it drew out blood but the pain wasn't noticeable, not when fyodor pushed the tip of his cock against the spot on your thigh which he had bitten to smear the last wet drops of blood on your skin and on his tip, he groaned again at the messily erotic sight.
"there is only one solution for this." fyodor muttured as he leaned his head up to lick at your breast, his tongue stopping only when it hovered above your nipple as he wanted to let the bite he left on you to be undisturbed until it had enough blood flowing out of it.
without looking away from your eyes and without moving his face away as he pressed his tongue down on your nipple which hardened up, fyodor used both of his hands to spread your legs and try to clumsily push his cock inside your slit. his body weight falling on you, his tongue pressing down on your nipple yet not quite making any friction and his eyes which didn't tear away from your's even once ; all served to add to the pleasure he gave you as his dick bumped against your folds many times before he finally entered your slit while using his index and middle finger to spread your folds apart.
his tongue began to show movements as he licked a strip along your nipple before encircling around it and then it came, the moan you bit back and instead the choked breath you let out when his lips clamped down on your nipple and he began to suck on it, alternatively doing this and pulling your nipple with his teeth.
for every action in nature, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
fyodor pulled his dick out and he could feel the anger of your cunt at the sudden emptiness at it squeezed around thin air, arousal dipped out of you as it weeped for him to enter again, your hips spasmed as if heartbroken by the sudden lose of him . . . your entire body wanted him, didn't it?
this made fyodor shudder in satisfaction, his cocky nature taking the best of him as he smirked.
fyodor's lithe fingers traced down your fold and down the length of your inner thigh as he rubbed his finger on the spot which was faintly smeared in your blood, this made his dick ooze out precum and he thrusted inside you again.
you barely opened your eyes to lift your head up, spotting his free hand which was on top of your thigh and grabbing it to raise it towards your other breast which had been neglected for a long time. with your hand on top of his, you placed his hand on your breast and squeezed it, letting out a loud and breathy moan as your eyes closed once again.
"so eager." fyodor couldn't help but notice, thrusting into you slowly, in an antagonizing slow pace but to make up for it, his hand harshly squeezed your breast as if to tear your mind into two, to make you confused on which sensation to focus on.
fyodor's tongue flicked your nipple one last time before he lowered his head to place it on the spot he had bitten, now that it had a fairly safe yet good amount of blood pulling and he pressed his lips against the fluid. he lifted his head up towards your face and kissed the side, almost the end of your lips and dragged his lips down as he left small pecks along the way and the blood left its trail on your skin.
fyodor's dick picked its pace all of a sudden as he did not want the pleasure to disappear for even a second, he was sure to steal your breath away and leave you addicted to his touch, he will make sure of it.
his dick despite being clamped down by your walls, remained indifferent as he thrusted in and out, his ears drank the moans and whines your lips were letting free and his hand came down to grip your hip tightly, tight enough to leave a bruise.
fyodor went down to press his lips against your bloodied skin again, kissing the underside of your boob in the process before he raised his face to leave an open mouth kiss on your shoulder.
fyodor's dick entered with a particular thrust and touched your g-spot but he didn't pull back and rather, lifted you up by pushing on your hip till the tip of his dick touched your cervix.
it was a repeating process for fyodor to dip his head down and gather blood on his lips and then smear it down your skin as he kissed your body. your back arched when you felt his hand leave your hip to grab your thigh and spread your leg more, your leg dangled off the couch as he thrusted in again with the same pace he started out with ; slow yet deep.
yet his movements on your breast remained hard, harsh and fast and he, once after finding his action repetitive, switched to pinching your nipple and pulling and twisting it between the pads of his index and thumb, returning to his original action once he found this new one to grow repetitive and he alternatively switched between these two after every few minutes or perhaps, after every half minute.
"dostoyevsky." you moaned out and fyodor at once froze before he hummed and began again to ravish and abuse and mark your body as his, treating it delicately yet passionately, letting out short growls and whines every once a while.
fyodor's sacks began to tighten the moment your walls increased the intensity with which they clamped his length down and this was done after the second thrust to your g-spot and beyond it -- to kiss your cervix.
fyodor raised his head, licking his bloody lips and smirking arrogantly at how you appeared below him and how much more he can ruin you further, his hand abandoned your breast and grabbed your own hand instead. he clasped his fingers with your's and pushed your hand down on your stomach to have you feel the bulge his dick in creating inside you as it moved in and out and once again in and out before he pushed it in deeper and deeper inside.
his head kissed your g-spot and kissed it, and pressed on it harder and harder. fyodor's tongue licked your bottom lip before he bit down on it to draw out blood but he wasn't satisfied with this, he went down and bit down on the side of your neck and shoulder.
your legs raised as if on instinct and you wrapped it around his thin and small waist while your free hand grabbed at his clothed back and digged hard, your lips now letting out loud moans.
"i am gonna --dostoy -- ah - ahh. please let me cum, please please. harder -- please faster. don't stop, ah - oh, dostoy. dostoyyyy." you whined out his name when he pressed your hand down on your stomach harder while he used the other to grab and squeeze your breast again, digging his nails into your skin as he smiled against your skin to hear you being such a mess for him, to hear your shyness disappear due to the pleasure he is giving and bringing out a bolder side of you.
fyodor lifted himself on his knees just a bit to have a new and fresh angle to thrust inside you, his balls smacking against your ass harshly with each thrust he did and his dick went deeper and deeper, kissing and hitting your g-spot and cervix.
pleasure waltzed down your torso and up your feet as if to meet with each other with extended hands, fyodor's fangs pierced your skin as he continued to bite down hardly on your skin and his nails digging into your skin also drew out blood. the smell of so much blood made fyodor's breath to quicken and he moaned out. immediately the hands of the two forces of pleasure touched each other and with a moan akin to a scream, you came.
". . . dostoy?" you panted out while your hips spasmed as fyodor helped you ride your high out.
with a hum, fyodor lifted his head and blood had tainted his fangs. you raise your free hand to cup his jaw and pull his face towards your own as you left small and continuous pecks on his lips, kitty licking the blood off of his lips.
after a moment or two, fyodor's pace made you scream again as it increased at a inhumane pace, to give one an insight, you were able to respire only once between two or three of his quick thrusts.
he whimpered and pushed his lips hardly against your own, kissing you with force as he thrusted in again. the tip of his dick touched your walls and just the next second, ropes of sticky white shooted out and coated your walls white.
fyodor's body fell on top of your's as he tried to catch his breath, having no intention to pull out of you anytime soon.
rather, once he had calmed down a bit, he pushed his dick deeper to push his cum into you more and hopefully, into your womb.
"do you like the taste of blood now, love?" he quietly asked as he inspected the trail of blood he left on you -- from your cheeks to neck to shoulders to (faintly) your breasts and below it and above it -- wherever the eye could see, fyodor tainted your skin with your own blood.
you licked your lip before answering, "no, i like the taste of your lips."
━━━━━━━ 💋 end.
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd x you#bungou stray dogs x you#bsd x y/n#bungou stray dogs fanfic#bsd fanfic#bsd smut#bsd x female reader#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor x reader#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd#bsd fyodor#bungou stray dogs fyodor#fyodor smut#fyodor x y/n#fyodor x you
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before i could tell you
Character: Wriothesley
— he died never knowing your greatest secret
CW: afab!gn!reader (they/them), ANGST, hurt/no comfort, pregnancy, death (Wriothesley), Fontaine Act 4 spoilers
val’s no sympathy november masterlist
happy birthday Wriothesley... <3
The clock in the Chief Justice's office never ticked as loudly as it did now. What once served as pleasant background noise was presently a gut-wrenching reminder that you're currently in the realm of reality and not some dream world. However, you still futilely fight against it... simply because it’s all you can and want to do.
"Quit... quit joking around, it's not funny." Neuvillette takes a deep breath through his nose, subtlety glancing at the other faces in the room. The traveler from afar can’t bring themselves to raise their head, Clorinde stands deep in thought and Paimon floats beside her companion, sniffling softly. All of them can’t bring themselves to face you, each harboring their own regret.
As the embodiment of justice, Neuvillette rarely jokes, especially with concerns to another’s life. You knew this well, and yet you still repeat that same plea to him, hoping you’ll get a different answer than just silence. “Don’t joke like that Neuvillette… he’s fine… Wriothesley’s okay… he’s at home isn’t he? Like he said he’d be?”
You’re holding yourself like it’s the last defense you have at not splitting at the seams, and Fontaine’s Iudex wants desperately to deliver a different verdict that what the world has decided. Words the Warden spoke to him one evening over a hot pot of tea echo in his mind as he looks at your fragile form.
“You’ll keep them safe for me, won’t you Neuvillette? Life as Warden has its twists and turns, you never know what might happen down here. Ah, but of course you know this, don’t you?” He followed with a carefree laugh, and he could easily lie about being unaware of the ticking time bomb he sat above if he wanted to.
He feels as if he’s failed the man in keeping that promise. You physically may be safe, but your heart is going through hell and back in that moment and there wasn’t anything he could do. He could only watch on as the world around you buzzed, everything suddenly a trigger made to launch your senses into a state of overload. The light pouring through the window is too bright, everyone’s presence is too suffocating, your chest tightens and your stomach feels like it’s tearing itself apart and you just might be sick right then and there if you didn’t take a breath.
The embrace you had on yourself tightens, and as a form of comfort you imagine the familiar heat of your husband hugging you from behind, his large frame encompassing and the only thing you ever needed to feel better at times like these. For just a moment you’re able to feel him hold you, tuck his head into your shoulder and telling you that everything will be alright as he keeps you afloat.
He can’t though, not anymore, and instead it’s Paimon who tries to console you through words and the champion duelist who steadies you when your legs threaten to give out. “It’s okay, Wriothesley would want you to stay happy right? He’d want you to keep living even though he’s not here with you…”
Your gaze slowly lifts to the pink fairy, a shaky breath forcing itself past your lips, “it’s not okay Paimon… he didn’t know… I didn’t get to tell him…”
Your quiet admission not only confused her but the others as well, “Paimon doesn’t understand, you didn’t get to tell him what exactly?”
Neuvillette suddenly speaks, his eyes scanning over you. Anyone who knew him could see the underlying shock in his irises, unprepared to face this new revelation, “you’re with child, aren’t you?” The pieces click in his mind and anyone that was paying attention would notice the beginning of a heavy downpour starting right outside.
Softly nodding, fat tears began to slide down your cheeks, voice breaking as you continue, “I was going to tell him today, after he got off work. He promised he’d make it home tonight. Oh that Wriothesley… stupid, stupid Wriothesley…”
“Tell me how what happened, please. In full detail,” your request is met by hesitant silence, Clorinde finally being the one to speak up. You didn’t think it possible, but somehow everything just got worse and worse.
He was splashed with Primordial Sea Water closing the gates in the Fortress of Meropide. There is no body to bury. There’s no way to say a final goodbye. The Iudex watches a fresh wave of tears line your eyes, your blank stare as you process everything his cue to proceed with what hehe had in mind.
Standing from his seat, he walks up to you and lifts your trembling hands, placing something cool in your palm. Looking down, you’re surprised to see the necklace you’d gifted Wriothesley a few years ago, the one he refused to take off because it, according to him, “feels nice against my heart. Like a piece of you is always with me.”
“This was… in the pile of clothes left behind. I believe it to be something returned back to you,” he said, patting your hand once before brushing past you. Out of your view the male waved the others out of the room, just to give you a few moments to yourself.
When the door closed was the same second the dam broke, sobs of a heartbreaking calibre echoing in the quiet room. There was only one thought that circled in your mind: he’s gone, and he’s not coming back. No more waking up to his gruff voice in the morning, hair tossed in all different directions. You’ll never feel his calloused hands caress your cheeks, his voice low and only meant for you as he tells you he’s the luckiest man in the world to have you as his spouse and how he can’t wait for what the future would bring you both.
No more gushing to one another about how you’ll spoil your children as much as you can, daydreaming about what the little ones could look like, only to cuddle close and ready to fall asleep with the promise that no matter what you’d love them regardless.
“We’re getting our biggest dream to come true Wriothesley… I’m telling you now, so come back and love them liked you promised dammit. I can’t do this without you.”
Tag list: (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx
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@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood // @ii-lily2 // @esuz // @kochothehoe // @cindywasneverhere
#val’s nsn#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x you#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#wriothesley angst#wriothesley x gender neutral reader#genshin impact#genshin angst#genshin fanfic#genshin wriothesley#genshin writing#genshin impact wriothesley#genshin x you#genshin x gender neutral reader
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PRO-ANA GUIDE HANDBOOK
An anorexic mind
First of all, let's work on the psychology first. Be sure to fuck up your relationship with food from the start. You want to make yourself as neurotic as possible about food, eating, kitchens, cutlery, refrigerators, restaurants, and hey, why not stretch this out even further and start hating the actual source of foods, in other words the actual animals and plants. I myself am utterly opposed to factories. Any kind of factory. Even pillow factories, hell they're all the same. But you! Spread those bad thoughts! Hate that chicken!!! Unless of course, you're going for the sympathetic, oh the poor animals, vegan slant. That's a good one too. Firstly, reaffirm your mission. Immortalise it. Buy a fat, blank notebook, this will become your own personal anorexic sanctuary of sorts. Write down WHY you want to lose weight. Be sure to include things like how you will feel when you're 10lbs lighter, the glorious clothes you will fit into, an occasion that you would like to be thinner for like your sixteenth birthday, etc. Give yourself a final goal, and break it up into several, smaller, goalpoints. For example, if you weigh 140lbs and would like to eventually be 90lbs, list points along the way which signify a victory for you. For example, 130lbs, and then 115lbs, then 110lbs, then 100lbs, and so on. Re-read this again and again for inspiration. You will be using this notebook later to create tackytown anorexia-inspired collages and other paraphernalia.
Visualisation. Following the same strain as NLP, or Neuro Linguistic Programming, we must use the principles of association to retrain your consciousness, and sub-consciousness, to turn food into one of the greater evils of the world. (Read: the greatest evil!!) Start by associating food with disgusting things. For your first ever fast, it may be helpful to draw pictures of juicy red apples, somehow morphing into giant dead rotting pigs. Plaster these all around your house, preferably on the food itself. Never underestimate the power of images. Put pictures of fat girls on your fridge, or better yet, pictures of yourself; you're pretty fat. Conversely, stick pictures of rakish models everywhere you can see them, for inspiration, and a bit of productive self-loathing. Also, practise writing things like "I'm fat" over and over. You want to drill this into your brain. "I will be thin" is a good one, as well as other "I will" affirmations. These are positive statements and very conducive to big time weight loss. Now create a list of suitable punishments either for thinking of food, or for caving in and eating food itself. A good one to try is to keep a rubber band on your hand and flick your skin whenever you think of eating. Eventually you will have a swollen hand, and a shrunken body; you will have ceased thinking of food so much. Other punishments include ridiculous amounts of exercise, purging, self-mutilation, isolation, basic denial of necessary comforts such as blankets on a cold night, or shelter when it is raining... Or simply menial, disgusting tasks such as cleaning the bathroom. Remember, you need discipline. Invent pain and hassles for yourself. Trick yourself into believing your life sucks. Be mean to people so that they instigate fights, just to make you constantly on edge, or nervous, so you cant eat. After all, you'll be light-headed and dizzy, and irritable from not eating, so you have an excuse. I used to love when dad got mad at me because it meant I was so upset I could not eat. Become an angst ridden teenager. You'll be making yourself nauseous from worry and self hatred in no time. Find another anorexic to consort with. Whether this be in real life, or on the internet. You can swap tips and indulge in your little sordid anorexia world together, force each other to exercise, pat each other on the back when you reach goals, etc. You want to completely surround yourself with all thoughts of anorexia. Find pro-anorexia websites, or create your own. Sign up for one of the dozens of pro-anorexic mailing lists at Yahoo! and you'll be bombarded daily with like minded individuals. Now, immerse yourself further in anorexia propaganda, read anorexia or otherwise 'thin' inspired literature, listen to anorexic music, watch as many triggering films as you can get your delicate little mitts on, look up to very thin hollywood stars and supermodels. Also, visit as many of the aforementioned pro-anorexia sites as you can to get a bunch of quotes and mantras to write in your anorexia notebook, and repeat inside your head daily. I have compiled a list of such sources of thinspiration.
Thinspiration
Triggering music
This is essential. You must familiarise yourself with the very teenage and angstyartists and be sure to play the music over and over to thoroughly depress yourself. Ones to keep in mind are:
Fiona Apple - "Paper Bag" ... Hunger hurts but starving works...
Silverchair - "Ana's Song (Open Fire)" ... And I need you now somehow, and I need you now somehow ... On my knees for you... In my head the flesh seems thicker...
Juliana Hatfield - "Feed Me"... Oh baby if only you knew, I'm down to 102...
Tori Amos - "Jackie's Strength" ... You're only popular with anorexia, so I turn myself inside out, in hopes someone will see...
Anorexic mantras
You must collect as many of these as possible. Write them in your anorexia notebook, memorise them, let them comfort you. Some examples are:
"An imperfect body reflects an imperfect person."
"You will be tempted quite frequently, and you will have to choose whether you will enjoy yourself hugely in the 20 minutes or so that you will be consuming the excess calories, or whether you will dislike youself cordially for 2 or 3 days for your lack of willpower."
"I'm not starving myself...I'm perfecting my emptiness."
"I can get thinner. I can cut it all off. I can wear low slung Levi's and crop tops and long straight dresses like willowy models, and I gasp with the breathlessness of being airborne. I can fly and be free. Jesus! I never realised how easy it was!"
"Nothing tastes as good as thin feels."
"The greasy fry, it cannot lie, its truth is written on your thigh,"
Devour literature, not food
Words and text are very very triggering when it comes to not eating. For one thing, it gives you a world to inhabit, your very own private, magnificent anorexia world which nobody else around you can touch, and you shall have characters to understand you. You will be so riveted that you will not need to eat. Books to check out include:
The best little girl in the world by Steven Levenkron
Wasted by Marya Hornbacher
The fountainhead by Ayn Rand - not about anorexia per se, but Dominique
Francon is the fucking epitome of ethereal, insubstantial, bony grace.
I am an artichoke by Lucy Frank
Starving for attention by Cherry Boone O'Neill
Hunger scream by Ivy Ruckman
Diary of an eating disorder by Chelsea Smith and Beverly Runyon
My sister's Bones by Cathi Hanauer
Stick figure by Lori Gottlieb
Eve's apple by Jonathan Rosen
Thinspiring films and TV shows
These might be about anorexia itself, or it might simply be glamorous and include very thin beautiful people. Movies and television programmes I know others find thinspiring are:
Girl, Interrupted
For The Love Of Nancy
Ally McBeal
Role models
You need somebody to idolise. You must research him or her to the bones and become as close to her as possible. Become obsessed. Some suitable examples include those in the following list, who are either very skinny, or have, or have had anorexia:
Kate Moss - 90's waif
Angelina Jolie - skinny sexy actress, e.g. Girl, Interrupted and Gia
Christina Ricci - actress, had anorexia
Calista Flockhart - Ally McBeal
Lara Flynn Boyle - glamorous and snobby, never eats
Tracey Gold - actress who suffered from anorexia
Karen Carpenter - musician and classic anorexic
Portia de Rossi - actress on Ally McBeal who went through a stage of dangerous dieting
Geri Halliwell - formerly Ginger Spice, engaged in a 'thin war' with:
Victoria Beckham - formerly Posh Spice
Courtney Cox - actress on Friends, bony and gaunt
Twiggy - iconoclastic model
Mary Kate - had anorexia... perfection
Jodie Kidd - impossibly thin model
Nicole Richie - Thin thin thin
Audrey Hepburn - quintessential class, very petite
This should be enough to sufficiently fuck up and cloud your perceptions. Above all, convince yourself you are above others, a hero, owing to your spectacular powers of restraint. Feel elitist. Feel as though you are somehow super-human for resisting the urge to eat. Feel better than the other mere mortals who dig in to their cereal and their donuts. Believe in the power of starving as though it were a religion.
Extreme dieting
Now we can move on to the actual act of excessive dieting itself. First off we should establish clear limits. Make up rules you cannot deviate from. Only eat yellow foods on Monday, and brown foods on Tuesday. Or only eat every other day. Or only eat at night. Or only eat on days with the letter "u" in them. Or become a vegan. Or a fruitarian. Or follow your own version of a well known diet, such as the ever popular low carb diets, e.g., the Zone Diet, Atkin's Diet. Use your imagination. I knew a model who swore her secret was living on sushi, candy, oranges, cigarettes, and water. Another tip to try is to only allow yourself one food a day. You will get sick of the taste and therefore eat less due to boredom.
Now, compile a list of safe foods. Here is a fairly comprehensive list:
Low Cal Jelly (or Jello, for you Americans)
Celery - it is composed highly of water, it is crunchy, which is said to cause you to eat less, owing to the amount you have to chew it, it is considered acatabolic food
Carrots are also another safe vegetable (although most vegetables can be on your safe list, these are merely the safest of the safe)
Salsa and mustard - dieting staples. You can dip vegetables in them, they are fat free and low cal, and salsa brings cravings to an abrupt halt.
Spicy foodsare also thought to fire up your metabolism
Vinegar - thought to thoroughly reduce your appetite. It is suggested you drink a tablespoon or two before each meal.
Lemons dipped in a sugar substitute such as Splenda or Nutrasweet. (note: In some anorexia circles, even fruit is no good, besides oranges, which are a 50cal food)
Broth (only 5 calories per cube!!)
Egg white - much needed protein
Pickles
Lettuce - an absolute 'nothing' food
Cucumbers - very very low cal
Soup
Safe foods are merely foods that are safe to eat if you are craving foods outside your set meals. They are extremely low cal, or no cal. As for your actual daily intake of food, most wannabe anorexics tend to stick within the 500 - 1000 calorie range depending on how much exercise they do. Never be shy when it comes to considering taking certain drugs to reduce or diminish appetite. Some antidepressant medication such as Wellbutrin have this effect, as well as Topamax, which is originally an anti-convulsive but has been and can be prescribed for things such as ADD and bipolar disorder. Steal your little brother's ADD medication. Dexedrine is gold when it comes to killing appetite. Just ignore the paranoia and nervousness that comes with it. Think about diet pills and supplements such as Metabolife and Ephedra.
Day to day
Now we move on to the ever important area of ritual and habits, tips & tricks, to get down to a science.
Graze constantly throughout the day so that your metabolism never gets the chance to rest and become sluggish. Eating 100 calories five times a day is better than eating one meal consisting of 500 calories.
Fool your metabolism by constantly changing the number of calories you consume daily. This will prevent your body going into starvation mode, meaning that lesser amounts of calories will make you gain weight. For instance, eat 500 calories on Monday, 100 on Tuesday, 800 on Wednesday, no calories on Thursday, and 400 calories on Friday.
Get a full night's sleep, at least eight hours. Although staying up late does make you burn more calories, don't become sleep-deprived or your metabolism will become sleepy. Your appetite will even increase by 15%.
Record everything you eat in your anorexia notebook. This serves to motivate you, as well as to be aware of all the extra calories you may not be aware you are consuming. It may also let you identify emotional or environmental triggers, such as boredom or sadness.
Take vitamin pills frequently so your body doesn't crave nutrients, causing binges.
Diet coke and other diet sodas cause that bubbly, full feeling in your stomach, for about 1 calorie per glass.
Brush your teeth and tongue all the time. The feeling in your mouth will ease cravings and additionally, food will taste yukky with toothpaste, so whats the point of eating it?
Drink water like a fish. Drink a glass of water, or a diet soda, every hour on the hour. Drink water every time you have the urge to snack. Ice water is better because your body will burn more calories to heat it up. Drink water with meals to prevent overeating. Bear in mind that often we mistake thirst for hunger.
Caffeine will speed up your metabolism. Have two or three servings a day, in the form of black sugarless coffee, or caffeine pills, or guarana. If stacked with ephedra and aspirin, a synergistic effect will occur that imitates the effects of speed or other amphetamines. Do be aware that this practice can be rather dangerous.
Exercise. Not only will you burn off the calories you consume when you do eat, but it will increase your metabolism for some time afterwards. As well, the consequential muscle mass will increase the calories you burn at rest. It also suppresses appetite. Try running, or buy yourself a skipping rope.
Stand up and move about constantly. Compulsively fidget. It does add up to an estimated extra 500 calories burned a day. Twitch your leg while studying, for example. Also, sit up straight - you'll burn more calories.
Have a very busy and active schedule. It will burn more calories than sitting in your room thinking about not eating, and make sure you don't have enough time to binge.
Find a something other than food to satisfy your oral fixation. Choices include things like smoking, chewing gum, water, iced tea, sugarless mints, and diet coke.
Put a small coin in a jar every time you resist a craving, or exercise when majorly exhausted, etc. This will motivate you, build up confidence in your starving abilities, and keep track of your successes. As well as give you extra cash to splurge on some fantastical treat when you reach your first major weight loss goal.
The type of music you listen to while you eat affects how much and how quickly you consume. The faster the music, the more you eat. Try to listen to nice slow music when you eat.
Eat sweets and the foods you crave early on in the day. This will give you more time to burn them off and it will eliminate cravings later.
Eat while in the front of the mirror naked. You will be completely repulsed, and repelled from the food. This is a good thing.
Feel your hunger..don't try to suppress it. If you're hungry that means you're losing weight; you WANT to be hungry. If you're not then you're not doing it right. In time you will get a wonderful high off of being hungry and thoroughly enjoy the sensation. Hunger is not your enemy! The sooner this is understood, the sooner you will reach your goals.
Did you know that there are 2 pounds of dead skin on you right now!!?! Thats right! 2 POUNDS! ...if you're underweight or in starvation mode your body does not "shed" its skin the way it should. It holds on to it. Use an exfoliator for your face, and a loofah brush or scrub for your body. Make a stack of magazines that weighs the amount you want to lose. As you lose, take off the appropriate amount of magazines. Seeing the weight like that may help you realise what a difference it will make when it is all off. When you're feeling weak Here are some things which will help when your willpower is very feeble, to ward off the urge to eat, or worse, binge!
Pinch your thigh and see how you don't need food, because you should be eating your own flesh all away from the inside first, before you are deserving of actual legitimate sustenance.
Go to the library. You can research dieting or whatever, or you can read the classics, or some of the aforementioned listerature. Or you can do homework, or write letters, but the beauty of it is, since no food or drink is allowed, you'll have no choice but to abstain from a meal.
Buy some baby teething gel and rub it on your tongue, to numb your tastebuds.
If you're even considering eating, just hold your breath and count to 100. Chances are that you'll convince youself not to eat whatever it is you're craving in that time.
The scent of coffee has been proven to lessen ones appetite.
Chew the food but don't swallow it. Spit it in the bin.
If you're feeling dangerous, plan out the next few hours so that you're occupied for every single minute. Write a list of things to do for every 15 minutes. eg. exercise, surf the internet, email your friends, clean a room, read a book.
If you're feeling brave enough to face the kitchen, go there and throw out any potential binge foods. If you must, pour bleach/disinfectant/dishwashing detergent on the food, and then throw it away! (Anorexics are known for retrieving food from bins, or stealing food from strange places).
Pinch your ear! Apply pressure to the front of the ear, one at a time. The front of the ear is apparently a pressure point, in the area that controls hunger.
Let perfume replace chocolate. Every time you have a craving, or pass a bakery, sniff some Chanel no. 5. Apply it to a tissue and carry it with you.
Smell has a powerful effect on appetite.
Clean something. Cleaning something dirty can make you lose your appetite. The toilet, the litter box, under the kitchen sink, scrubbing out the garbage bin, anything grimy or smelly. The mess, along with the smell of the cleaner, can put you off food for a while.
Become a teenage artist. Write anorexic poetry, tragic little verses about bones and stomachs and evil evil capsicums. Anorexics are ever so creative.
Collect pictures of skinny girls. Stick them all in your notebook. Draw pictures of painful bony girls with tear stained faces and their head in their hands (their spines sticking out). This will take up most of your time.
Hiding it
Anorexia is supposed to be a private and tortured place, dontcha know. Deny it at all costs. Pretend you have not noticed the pounds dropping off you. Don't be suspicious. Here are some relevant tips:
Spend time making yourself look healthy.
Drink lots of water and apply a fake tan.
Wear makeup so that you have some colour, and keep your hair looking nice and shiny, take vitamins.
Smile.
Whenever you do decide to eat, do it in the company of others.
That way they can't say they never see you touch food.
On your way out, heat up a slice of pizza or prepare a snack to 'eat on the run'.
Of course, you will dispose of the food at your first convenience.
Leave a dirty plate lying around every so often for your parents to yell at you about.
Drink out of opaque cups, and spit your food into it whilst preteding to drink. They'll never know.
Eat really slowly because if everybody else is on their third slice of pizza, they'll assume you are too, even if you're still finishing your first.
Sign out of Hotmail and clear the history before you get off of the Internet. This will eliminate autofill being ever so helpful while your mum is researching aardvarks, and coming up with www.anorexicsanonymous.com for her. In short, don't leave traces lying around for others to find.
I trust that this guide to becoming a better anorexic will serve you well on your quest to being emaciated and ahem, gorgeous.
Remember, think thin, and try not to faint too often or die.
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Kissin' and Kickin' Charm (Glódís Perla Viggósdóttir x reader)
A/n not requested, but this woman does not get the love she deserves, so I'm making it happen.
Munich is a hell of a lot different than home.
Of course, you expected that, you aren't stupid...
Not entirely anyway.
There's a charm to the city. A much different one than the small Texan town you're used to, but it's a homely charm, if any.
A much broader, explorative city with ins and outs, beautiful buildings, and on the outskirts, something you've come to realise you feel more at home in than the city, areas with wide open flatlands and albeit manmade, forested areas.
It's definitely a big city, with many towns and a lot of diverse structuring.
It's a lot.
But it's your new home.
At least for the next three years, anyway.
You imagine yourself at home in the ranch right now.
Kicking up dirt, green grass and if you're really lucky, mud and puddles. All of that on your horse, Sweets, that you got for your tenth birthday.
In fact, you'd be there right now, at home on the ranch, if it wasn't for one teeny tiny detail.
Soccer.
For whatever reason, that was the sport your child brain picked to become your newest obsession. Except, it never stopped being that way. You lived and breathed it.
It surprised the hell out of your parents.
They'd never imagined their little, quiet, leather boots, horseback riding, ranch loving daughter kicking around a soccer ball.
But that's what you wanted.
And that's what you did in your spare time.
At first, they were adamant you didn't play it. They refused, insisting that if you wanted to get into any sport, it had to be either American football or horse riding.
But after sneaking home a ball to boot around for the umpteenth time, they relented, letting you take it on.
And take it on, you did.
It got to the point where you were severely outclassing the only all boys teams in your tiny town.
Enough so that someone visiting, who happened to have the right associations, scouted you for the youth academy in Houston.
You went up through the academy, which survived despite the rise and fall of the women's league in the US several times.
Eventually, you were contracted for the first time at eighteen.
It was a big deal.
Small town girl makes her first appearance for the big leagues and despite your parents earlier disappointment in your choice of career, they were now prouder than ever watching you take on the world.
Of course, with that growth, came your first call up to the national team at age nineteen.
That little tidbit had your Mama crying harder than the day you were born. She couldn't have been prouder to see you represent your country.
Playing amongst the likes of legends like Tobin Heath, Heather O'Reilly and even Abby Wambach for a short period, you thrived.
The immense pressure was nothing like you'd ever felt, and you loved it.
Even as reserved as you are, you love a good challenge.
With the call-up, the demand to have you increased, and eventually, at the age of twenty-four, you, rather tearfully, said goodbye to the Dash and moved to Portland to join your national teammates, Sonnett and Horan.
You've spent the past four years there, although you aren't the biggest fan of the city life. You loved the soccer fanbase.
The thorns are well loved by the people in the city and some of the greatest players you've known, to date, play for them.
Of course, playing with the greatest players of all time means you yourself catch the attention of overseas scouters.
It's not the first time it's happened.
Every year, you get calls from your manager letting you know about the offers from clubs in countries you'd never dreamed of seeing before.
That being said, you'd always turned them down, not wanting to leave your home country just yet.
Until now, that is.
When the offer from FC Bayern came through, you just knew.
You knew you had to do it, had to take that chance.
"So what do we say, Y/n?"
"... Tell I'm in if they've got a heated pitch and air-conditioning."
Had your manager chuckling at that.
Taking the time to dig into the team a bit, you end having a look at the team list.
You know the names of a few of the players there, but you'd not formally met them yet, only meeting them once or twice on the pitch.'
One name stuck out in particular though.
Of course it did, she's the captain.
Your new captain.
But there's something you admire about the Icelandic woman that immediately grabs at your soul and you end up taking the time to look up her highlights.
The perseverance, the constant drive to do better and to lift up her teammates around her.
The perfect defence with constant push and pull, defensive manoeuvres and just an overall brick wall of a woman.
The perfect captain.
So when you meet her for the first time, you're a little starstruck.
Sure, you'd done your research in advance, but actually meeting the sweetly voiced Nordic woman has you anxious in your boots beyond measure.
----
When Glódís meets the new signing, she's a little thrown off.
She knew you were American, that you were from Texas and that you most likely had a very different upbringing to the lifestyle you lived now, but the immediate southern charm that flows through your natural southern drawl has her a little flustered.
She doesn't expect the charming smile or the way you call her ma'am and warmly shake her hand, expressing, rather sheepishly, your excitement to meet her.
"It's lovely meetin' you, Ma'am. I've heard a lot about everything you've done for this club and your country. It's incredible, actually, not to sound too much like I'm kissin' up here, but really."
Your head ducks a little, cheeks reddening at your own rambling.
It's adorable, she decides.
"You talk me up a lot for someone of her own incredible skill."
Her smile widens at the way your cheeks darken further under her teasing compliment.
"Oh, I mean, that's... it's not everything I want to achieve. It feels like I've had it a little easier than a lot of the ladies I've seen and played with and known personally. I'm just excited to be here and to get to be a part of something this big. With y'all, at that."
"We're glad to have you on board with us, then. I think you'll fit right in here. The girls have been begging me to let them in the door for the past thirty minutes while you were doing the contract signing."
She gestures to the windowed door to the room, which, with a quick glance, you spot the eagerly waiting players, grinning and waving like kids at you.
It makes you feel a little more anxious now.
Such big names in German and international football and here they are, giddily waiting for you to finish your media duties and finally get to meet little old you.
It feels surreal.
When you turn back to the captain, she's already smiling warmly back at you, and after the okay from you and the management in the room, they let them in.
It's almost too much, the way they all excitedly introduce themselves despite in many cases not having to, with the way you get flustered as you know them well already, having maybe, quite possibly also looked the rest of them up in a bit more detail, purely out of nervousness.
Also, the friendliness of it all.
Normally, with new signings at Portland, it always felt super cold and competitive, definitely a lot colder in the introductions, done during training rather than in a room on the campus.
Of course, after a couple of months, the players did warm up to you, but there's always the cold air about the veterans on the team, all of them wary of you and your abilities.
Always the stress of having your position on the team ousted by the new and shiny youngins for so much as running the wrong way.
Here, in Munich, Germany, in the clubs training facility, in a meeting room, your new clubs teammates welcome you with warm open arms, an air of bubbly enthusiasm and many, many hugs rather than the cold and firm handshakes you're used to.
You recognise a few of them, particularly Magdalena, a regular opponent from Sweden and her national teammate Linda, as well as of course, the German players, the English player, Georgia and Jill Baijings, a member of the Dutch National Team you'd faced just months before at the World Cup.
Regardless of the rivalry held at the international level, they're surprisingly warm, quickly dragging you into hugs themselves.
At least, it's surprising for you.
It feels different here.
It is different here.
You find yourself leaning into it more and more, the more you chat with the team.
It goes on for an hour or so before you're dragged away for more media duties.
The girls are rather reluctant to let their new friend go, waving you goodbye with warm smiles, but small pouts as their chuckling captain ushers them from the room, leaving you with one last grin and a wink that sends heat to your cheeks and shivers down your spine.
Well.
You'll be damned.
That just happened.
----
"She's so cute! I love her accent. She's so sweet with the way she talks too."
The gushing from Giulia is quickly resounded by the other's around her.
"Right? The way she kept calling us Ma'am and Miss. It's too sweet. And her accent, it's so smooth."
"Oh my god, I know Americans aren't the most well known for being nice to listen to, but I listen to her talk all day."
"She's really good too, I've seen her highlights."
There's a few small gasps and protests from around the room.
"Oi! Syd! Why haven't you shown us yet?"
"Hold on, let me just -"
"Guys! Seriously, what the hell are you doing? I've been looking for you for ages. Put the phone away, you all have training to do."
The resounding voice in the changeroom comes from a stern looking Glódís. She's normally quite gentle toned with them, but they were taking far too long to get out on the pitch, leaving their captain wondering where the hell half her team was.
"But we want to see how good Y/n is, Syd's got the highlights here."
"No, you can see how good she is when she joins us for training after her medical assessment. Now come on, or you'll be running laps for making the rest of the team wait on you all."
There's groans of disappointment, but to their rather swift credit, they do promptly exit the changeroom and make their way to the pitch where an also stern looking Alexander Straus is waiting for them, the team's manager, followed closely by Glódís, who's small smile contradicts her rolling eyes and annoyed head shaking.
----
When you do join them, you're quickly grabbed by Glódís, the captain having unofficially ruled that any new signings get paired with her first to properly welcome them to the team, and to also get them settled into her captaincy style and to adapt them to the dynamic of the team.
It's a way to get you properly integrated into the very familial like nature of it all.
Glódís seems very much like the mother of the team. All of them best friends but very much like siblings and but a few of the other older women taking the younger one's under their wings as parental figures on their own.
You figure it as a way to keep some semblance of structure amongst the chaos of the team.
The captain, it seems, is at the head of this, ensuring all of them work well together, the team is lifted for their triumphs, and picked back up with every miscalculated cross and shot, and dragged back onto their feet after every tackle or mistimed step.
Training with Glódís is intense, a good kind of intense. You find yourself enjoying the calculated, focused nature of her defensive manoeuvring.
But it's also warm, the occasional chatter between you leaving you both laughing at the other person's jokes and small mishaps as you settle in.
Her giggles are nothing if not contagious, and you can't help the grin that grows more and more the more you spend time with her.
It doesn't go unnoticed by the others, them taking note of the way their normally much more drill oriented captain has relaxed a bit.
Of course, she's friendly, smart, smiley and very much welcoming, but she's never been this laid back during drills, especially not when she's always expecting to set precedents with the new signings.
But this was definitely different to that.
The lingering touches, hip bumps and tone of laughter are different from the ones she's always held with the rest of the team. It's a little lighter, more giggly and full of a tone they themselves hadn't heard from her.
It was startling to see, nearly.
Glódís was... flirting?
Intentional or not, they didn't know, but it was definitely a flirty tone.
Not that you could tell, bless your oblivious self. You had no idea.
You matched the tone of lightness, of course. But you weren't picking up on everything else, thinking she's just naturally like that.
A very friendly captain.
The other girls know otherwise though, and the knowing looks they share later when your cute celebration after managing to meg the brick wall of a captain has her smirking slightly at your adorableness.
One thing she notices is that the more excited you get, the more your accent comes out.
It's adorable, she realises.
----
The second training isn't much different to the first.
You don't pay it much attention outside of friendliness, but Glódís takes a quick liking to you, now having claimed you for all paired warmups and drills.
Occasionally, you get stolen away every once in a while, leaving you feeling very much like the cool kid on the block.
There's something else, though.
It's in the way the Icelander smiles at you. It's in the way she hugs you every time you score in a mini game.
You brush it off, thinking, once again, she's just being friendly.
But it's a thought that sits in the back of your mind anyway.
You feel like it's a glimmer of hope. You're not sure what for or why but it's there.
Maybe it's a sign of a great friendship blooming.
Yeah.
That's what it is.
Ever since that, it's been amazing training with the team.
Your first match is just weeks after signing.
Your first minutes come as a sub for Klara in the sixtieth minute.
And it's not too long after that that you score your first goal for the club against Leipzig.
It's a beauty too.
A long range effort after a foward pass to Pernille is rebounded back to you.
It was an accident really.
You were aiming for the head of Lea but instead it curls a little more than you intend it to and it bends into the upper right corner of the netting, far past the outstretched gloves of the Swiss keeper, Elvira Herzog.
It feels a little silly, but you can't help the blush when you feel your captain hug you super tightly and lift you up in celebration.
"Let's go, that's our girl!"
----
It's been two months with the team and two and a half living in Germany. You've got a small cottage in the outer district of Munich, with enough yard to set up small drills and other various exercises.
There's been plenty of outings for you, finding yourself socialising far more than you used to back in Portland.
You don't hate it, though.
The whole team has been nothing but sweet to you, and it seems they're already attached, each player having dragged you on outings themselves, whether it be individually or with groups of them.
You're not sure why they've taken quite such a liking, but you think it might have something to do with the fact they keep asking questions for you and you alone to answer, or just anything to get you to talk, really.
You don't mind it. Bless 'em.
They're already like family to you.
Tonight is no different when it comes to being dragged to outings and team bonding nights.
Only this time, it's to a club in central Munich, having been allowed a little freedom given they dont a match this weekend. You yourself don't drink much, but some of the other girls do, so they've let loose, of course, under the watch of their captain and a few of the older girls acting as designated drivers.
There's a small nudge to your shoulder where you're leaning against a standing table.
"Hey you."
You'd recognise that sweet voice anywhere, humming as you turn to the suddenly appeared Glódís at your side.
"Well, hello, having fun there, Sweetheart?"
Glódís' lips perk up at your words.
"Always."
She takes a glance at the cup in your hand.
"Not drinking much? You can let loose a bit tonight, I'm letting you guys off the hook for tomorrow's training. Once in a lifetime opportunity L/n."
She winks at you, and you smile at her, amused.
You shake your head when she nods towards your still half full glass of vodka and soda.
"Nah, I want to be able to get up tomorrow, training or not."
She chuckles, nodding in agreement.
"Oh, to be young and dumb enough to drink like that once upon a time."
"Don't say it like that. You're only twenty-eight."
You huff playfully.
"Please, you and I both know neither of us would make it out alive if we-"
She cuts herself off, gesturing to the very rowdy girls taking another round of shots.
"Well... you're not wrong. To being old and susceptible to hangovers."
She giggles, and you hold out your glass towards hers, meeting her in the middle with a small clink and you both take a sip, her eyes never leaving yours.
"Woah there grandma. Not too hard now."
As you go to take another sip.
Rolling your eyes affectionately, you nudge her.
Turning back towards the group, you groan watching them take another round of shots.
"Oh sweet baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph. How the hell are we gettin' them home."
She pats your head with a small chuckle.
"With a lot of herding and the good old divide and conquer, cowgirl."
Then she moves off to go find Pernille and Magda on the other side of the room.
"You know, you and Glódís would be a super adorable couple."
A pair of arms wrap around your neck as a very drunk Sarah hangs onto you for stability, hear head leaning on your shoulder, and your arm moves to hold onto her so she doesn't hit the floor.
"Sarah, little miss, it's really cute that you wanna include me, but you know I don't speak German."
"One, I'm older than you, Two, sucks to be you."
A poke to the cheek following that, as she sticks out her tongue.
"Aren't you taking German classes anyway?"
"Yeah, but doesn't mean I understand the dialect of drunken soccer player yet."
She pouts at you before grumbling and resting her head back on it's spot on your shoulder.
"What I said was, you and Glódís would make a good couple."
Your cheeks immediately flame up, and your whole body tenses, wondering if you even heard the Austrian right.
"What-"
You clear your throat softly.
"What makes you say that?"
"You're already attached at the hip like no other. I've never seen her like this with anyone else. Even her old friend, Karólína."
"She's probably just missin' her then, Sar"
"If you say so."
It's just about mumbled into your shirt and you're beginning to realise that despite the pumping music, she's starting to exhaust pretty quickly with the way she's leaning further and further into you until you have to sit her down in one of the teams half occupied booths where she settles into another teammates arms.
With a small chuckle, you leave her to it, them saying they'd be heading out soon anyways and would take her home.
As you return to your spot at the table, you can't help but think back on what she said.
Despite her inebriation, what she said held weight in your mind.
And it ends with you eyeing up the woman through the small crowd over the lip of your drink.
You catch her looking back several times, each time sheet meets your eye, you think you imagine it, but her eyes crinkle a bit, and her smile gets a little brighter.
----
"You know, if you keep looking at her like that, she might catch onto you there, Glódí."
She knows she's not being subtle, but she can't help the way her eyes drift over to you.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Schülli."
"I think you do."
Glódís bites her lower lip as she watches you set the very drunk Sarah down by Sam and Linda (The Swedish one) before moving back to where you were, carefully watching over the girls on the dance floor.
It seems, with even just a few months with the team, you're already looking out for them like your own.
When you make eye contact with her for the fourth time in ten minutes, she smiles just that little bit more, which you quickly match.
Though, it seems, she doesn't expect the wink you send with it.
She raises a brow at you, ducking under the cover of her glass, hoping the purple hue of the lighting masks her slightly flushed cheeks.
"Wow, she has got you already, hasn't she?"
"Shut up."
The defender quickly turns away from your direction so the striker doesn't have get given any more fuel and gives her an annoyed but small shove to the shoulder, a slight frown marring her features.
"I think you should go for it, Glódí, she clearly has something for you."
"And what if she says no? Then what? Another friendship here ruined?"
Lea pauses for a minute, watching her, as her head ducks and her cheeks flare up at the admission.
"You mean... Ka"
Glódís swiftly nods, shushing the forward.
"Is that why she hasn't-"
She nods again.
The tips of her ears burn in shame under the taller German's gaze.
She hadn't meant to bring it up, but it just slipped out.
Karólína hadn't exactly reacted badly as such, but things between them haven't been the same since then, and with her being on loan now, they really spoken, if at all.
It still hurt, the look in her eyes as she tried her best to let her best friend down gently. Even then, months later, after the international break together, it still hurt.
After that, she'd sworn off dating teammates.
Hence, she hesitates to even think about pursuing anything with you.
She can't help the pang of hope she gets when you smile so brightly at her, though.
The sweet, charming, smooth tone you hold with her.
The way you hold her just a little bit longer and tighter than you do with the others.
But that's what she thought with Karólína, too.
And she was oh so wrong there.
So what's stopping her from being wrong now, right?
"That's why it can't happen, Lea. I'm not going through that again. I can't risk losing her or risk the team possibly being affected by it."
Lea smiles sympathetically at her captain, hand resting on her shoulder with a small squeeze.
It's silent between them for a few moments before the blonde speaks up again.
"Then don't worry about it. Now come on, I think it's time we get this rowdy lot home, it's nearing midnight."
Glódís sighs in appreciation and nods, looking over to the singing and dancing group of players followed by her gaze ultimately drifting over to you once more, returning the familiar warm smile she receives.
----
"Alright, come on, time for you to go to bed, little miss."
There's a small giggle from the drunkenly slurring blonde as you walk her up to her front door, your hands rifling her pockets for her keys.
"You're so cute."
Giulia pokes your cheek with one finger, and you roll your eyes, ignoring the flush creeping up your neck when you hear Glódís' muffled laughter behind you.
You'd turn to give her a glare but you're a bit preoccupied.
"And you are very inebriated."
Finally acquiring the keys from her back pocket, which she giggles again and wiggles her eyebrows at you for, earning herself another eyeroll as you drag her inside finally.
"You sure you got her there?"
The amused chuckle from the doorway makes you groan as she watches your stubborn self herd the blonde woman, currently letting herself lean completely on you, into her bedroom to at least encourage her to bed for the night.
"I am perfectly capable, thank you."
You're sure she doesn't believe that, but you believe it enough yourself to give up and let the now giggling woman help you as she observes on your masterpiece of drunk person wrangling.
Said drunk person now dead weight in your arms whining about not wanting to go to bed yet, to which you just plop her on the mattress finally and despite her protests, she's asleep in seconds.
Turning to Glódís triumphantly, you catch her amused smirk.
"Yeah yeah, real funny. I'd like to see you do that."
She shrugs, shaking her head.
"You're the one that insisted on bringing her in yourself, without help."
Grumbling, you make sure Giulia is fully on the bed before dropping her keys by the door and exiting and locking it on the way out.
Now, the both of you are stood in the darkness outside, with the last of the girls dropped home already, a collaborative effort thanks to Pernille, Magda, both Lindas and Jovana.
It's just you and her, now.
It's a cool winter night, nearing the end of the season but still cold enough that you're half shivering in front of the older woman.
You're both silent, your eyes drifting over her features lit up under the faint glow of the street lamp.
You swear, she gets even prettier every day.
The subtle but sharp line of her jaw, the way her hair almost glows under the moonlight, and the soft pink tint to her cheeks from the cold all have your heart beating a little quicker.
The way her eyes sparkle as they scan yours from across the porch.
The way her lips quirk up slightly under your gaze, brow raising just a bit.
"You okay?"
Her words snap you out of your assessment, and you hum softly, quickly recovering.
"Just a little tired, let's get on home then, Darlin?"
She nods and turns to head towards her car.
It doesn't surprise her when you jog ahead of her to open the driver side door for her, having done it every single time now since leaving the club.
"Such a gentlewoman."
Apparently, she hadn't grown tired of it yet, so that's a start.
It's a soft teasing tone that you poke your tongue out at her at before jumping in the passenger side.
On the drive out to your place outside of the city, her arm rests on the centre console, lined up next to yours as you hum along to the song on the radio, gazing out the window but also occasionally glancing over at her, scanning her side profile.
If she can feel your gaze on her, she doesn't really react.
It remains quiet for most of the drive, with the occasional hum or murmur along with the music.
It's not an awkward silence, but one you both need after tonight's activities.
Every so often, your pinkies brush, and every time they do, there's a small jolt of electricity that shoots up you arm from where they meet.
The moment you're in your own driveway, you bid her a soft and sweet thanks with a gentle nudge and give her a small wink and wave as she pulls way again.
She's thankful you're not there to hear her most likely audible heart beating in her chest the rest of the way home again.
----
Her heart racing at everything you do doesn't stop that night.
In fact, it gets worse.
It feels like everything you do has it beating beyond her rib cage.
It frustrates her, actually.
Every time she gets placed on something she needs full focus and attention for, she's been perfect for, but if you're there next to her?
Forget it.
Media duties?
Sitting next to you, she can feel your leg occasionally brush hers, arms brushing on the table every time you set it down from making gestures and whatnot.
Coach speeches during half time?
It's like you're doing it on purpose knowing she can't focus when you're standing behind her, hands resting on her shoulders, warmth radiating against her back with how close you are.
At one point, she's convinced you are doing it on purpose when she looks back and up at you, head tilted to make eye contact with you with a brow kinked up as you look down at her with a small smirk and a wink.
The more it goes, the less she knows how to function around you.
Individual post game interviews?
Even with you just moving around her doing various interviews with different journalists. A small brush of shoulders here, a hand gliding across her lower back as you move past her there.
At this rate, she feels like she's drowning in you and she's not even trying to move away.
Paired up interviews?
It feels like she's at her wits end with this one.
You're brought in together for a two-on-one interview for some football media page she can't remember the name of. There, seated on a couch, you're not even really doing anything. Except for the arm you have over the back of the lounge, resting just behind her head.
You aren't seated so close that you're pressed together. But you are close enough she can smell your perfume and it's making her head spin a little.
Hell, she feels like she should be used to hearing you speak by now, but it still has her feeling like she can't think properly with you around.
How she plans on surviving this, she doesn't know, but all she knows if she doesn't do something, she's going to lose her mind.
----
You know you shouldn't do it.
Really.
There's not even a guarantee she likes you back right?
Still, you can't help teasing her a little.
She doesn't confront you about it, she doesn't tell you to stop and as far as you can tell, she's not uncomfortable.
Your captain has always been verbal about how she's feeling when she's talking to people...
Mostly.
But she never leans away from you, only ever receiving a flushed face or an eye brow in response at most.
You can tell it's flustering her though.
By the way she's so quick to hide her reddened cheeks.
It's in the most adorable way that she rolls her eyes at your teasing comments when she scores a pretty good goal.
Small touches here and there, innocent touches. Nothing more than brushes and occasional times of brushing away grass from her face after particularly rough tackles.
The soft smile and drawl flowing from you asking how she's holding up makes it worth it.
Even though you may not be able to kiss her, her smile? Totally worth it.
----
Glódís feels like she's at her breaking point right about now.
When she's getting distracted during a game, a champions league game at that, that's a major problem.
You're both lined up for offence on a free kick when you're pressed in between her and an opposition player while she pressures the player in front.
It takes one brush of your hands on her waist and she's distracted long enough to miss jumping for the header on time.
Instead, you make it to the header, the ball flying into the back of the net as you take off running in celebration, having broken the deadlock in the final minute of stoppage.
Which turns into celebrations of the win the moment the whistle blows for full time and you're piled on for saving the teams chances at a spot in the quarter final over PSG.
The screams of the home crowd are drowned out as she waits impatiently for the end of her on field media duties.
Being the captain sucked sometimes, but it had to be done.
The moment she's free, she's jogging straight over to you and you're being dragged away off the field before you can even realise what's happening.
You had your own media duties, ones that you were currently shirking right now not being out there.
The moment you realise it's Glódís, the protests you had ready die in your throat, left with minor confusion the further down the obscure hallways she drags you until you're both in a secluded area and you're shoved into a broom closet with the door slammed shut behind both of you.
"What's goin-"
It takes all of a moment for her to grab you by the collar and slam you against the door leaving you a little winded and confused.
"Whatever it is you're doing, needs to stop. You're driving me crazy."
"What are you-"
"Don't play dumb with me, every time you so much as come near me, you brush past me, you so much as stand near me, I can't think and it's like you damn well know it, too."
It suddenly clears up there. You definitely didn't weren't doing it entirely on purpose.
Well, maybe.
Okay, it may have been a little on purpose, but you had no idea she was this affected.
"Look, I can stop if it's making you uncomfortable but Glódís... I... I kind of really like you and..."
----
Oh.
Well that changes things.
You actually like her?
You weren't just teasing her?
----
Before you can say much else, her hands cup your face and her lips are on yours in one movement.
Anticipating the action, your arms are around her in an instant, pulling her as close to you as possible, her body hot against yours despite the almost raging cold out on the pitch.
Her hands are firm on your face not letting you go for even a second, her lips fervent and sure as they move with yours.
It's only when you pull away for air that she finally relaxes into your hold for the first time.
Your hands are pressed into her lower back, hers now pressed into your shoulders as she looks slightly down at you, being just shorter than her by an inch.
The two of you just breathe for a moment, taking the moment in.
"You know. If you wanted to kiss me, all you had to was ask, Sweetheart."
She huffs.
"You're infuriating, you know that?"
There's a small guffaw on your face after that.
"What did I do?"
She almost believes the innocent look on your face.
The small upturn of your lips let's her know otherwise though.
"What didn't you do?"
And she kisses you again, slower and more tender this time, slowly pressing you back into the wall, slotting herself easily between your legs.
With your chest pressed to hers, you can finally feel the way her heart races, and she can finally feel yours, too.
There's always been something about you.
Guess it's just part of your charm.
----
#woso#woso x reader#woso imagines#woso imagine#glódís viggósdóttir x reader#glódís viggósdóttir imagine#glódís viggósdóttir imagines#glódís perla viggósdóttir x reader#glódís perla viggósdóttir imagine#glódís perla viggósdóttir imagines#fc bayern frauen x reader#fc bayern imagine#fc bayern imagines#woso oneshot#woso oneshots
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Warning: slight angst, angst/comfort, blood mentions, Leona licks you, some may not like it so you are warned.
Author's note: It was supposed to come out on his birthday but that's okay, it's a reworking of something I've already written in the past.
Twisted Wonderland, Leona Kingscholar x Reader
Nightmare
Leona always thought that becoming king would be the greatest joy he could ever get in life. To be acclaimed by his people, loved, respected, seen for the wonder that he truly is. All his problems disappear before his merits, finally recognized.
You're proud of him, aren't you?
He looks at you next to him, he sees your smile. You know you will share his privileges with him.
You love him, you told him in many ways.
So why that sharp pain in his stomach, that death throb under his side?
You smile happily as you hold the bloody sword in your hands. His blood, dripping on the ground, on the royal robes, flowing amidst the laughter of jubilation at the deliverance from the dying king. Ruggie celebrates too, and Jack, and Epel, and even the brats of Heartslabyus cheer in victory. You didn't even bother using magic, just a sharp blade was enough.
His hand grips the wound in a vain attempt to survive.
But if he survives, what's he ever going to do with your hate on his shoulders?
Leona closes his eyes, and for a moment he asks for everything to end soon. But then he realizes from his gasp that it doesn't have the traits of death. The pain in his stomach is suddenly gone: he's awake.
He finds himself sitting between the sheets of his bed in the dark room.
All is calm, only the pale moon is watching him. His hand is wet yes, but only with the sweat of his torment.
It's just a nightmare, he tells himelf, and Leona Kingscholar is no longer a puppy afraid of nightmares. But even as he says it, his chest hurts, a primal dread scrapes the edges of his mind.
He feels so alone in that bed. It’s not the solitude that he claims, to which he is accustomed. It's a loneliness that asks him questions that he never wants to answer, it's a real loneliness, not the one he pretends to want.
Tomorrow everything will be easier with the sun, he thinks, yet he is downstairs outside his room.
He feels cold, his bare toes starting to bother him, but he's stronger than that.
His knocking on your door is insistent and arrogant, but effective.
When you open the door, a thousand emotions pass through your eyes: concern and confusion prevail.
He stands there like a grumpy tousled cat, cuddled up and nose wrinkled as your eyes alternate between him and the time on your phone's glowing screen.
“Leona…is it…quarter past three in the morning?”
“It seems.”
He sees you flutter tired eyelids: “What's going on? Did something catch fire? Is anyone sick? Hurt?”
Leona awake during the day is already a special event, but at night it is definitely a sign of misfortune.
But he snorts: “Nothing like that. Will you let me in?”
You smile at him, stepping aside: “Well, it's the practice, right?”
He doesn't moan or huff, he just walks past you looking for the first place he can sit down. Your expression saddens.
"Leona..." You call him softly, you kneel in front of him but his eyes escape you. His ears hang over his head and for some reason his general appearance of him brings you a melancholy that doesn't usually come from him. The boredom and pent-up anger that is usually your issues with him are dissolved into an existential sadness.
“What happens?” You investigate again, as gently as possible. What on earth could have hurt the prince so much as to reduce him like this? And what can you do, little creature, in front of something like that?
Leona remains immersed in silence for a period of time that you cannot quantify, but when his green eyes finally look at yours and you can hear his voice, there is no answer waiting for you: "Do you hate me?"
That question comes out to him in such a strange tone, feeble and wounded, that it scares even him. The big bad lion is not brave enough to face his inner monsters.
You're shocked, you almost think it's a joke, or you're dreaming, because such Leona is unthinkable.
“Do people hang out with those they hate at your home?” You ask with a hint of a smile that just wants to reassure him, even if you aren't sure either. Your hands slide over his, you take them meekly as if they were wet little birds: "Why on earth should I hate you, Leona?"
His mind suddenly comes up with more reasons than are actually real, and at the same time he seeks an answer within your gaze.
Then, suddenly, his eyebrows furrow in tension as he sights something that had gone unnoticed up to that moment.
“What did you do?” He asks as his thumb brushes the edges of what looks like a dry cut on your forehead near your left temple.
“What? What is it?” You ask confused at first, as your hand goes up to his.
“Oh, no, it's nothing!” Then you laugh, relaxing “A small accident during the alchemy lesson a few days ago. Nothing serious."
A few days ago. Nothing serious.
He hadn't noticed. Even though you'd been around him most of the time, he hadn't noticed at all. You had been hurt and he hadn't noticed.
He must have let you down, and he feels humiliated. Someone looked after you so well that you didn't even feel the need to tell him – or maybe he didn't listen to you?
He bites his lower lip in an unconscious punishment, while he feels his swollen heart become heavier in the new awareness of being useless to you.
“Come here.”
His dragging you into his lap feels rough, but you sense that something has changed in him, something that had remained unknown until then.
“Leona?” You call him quietly, but he silences you with a soft whisper. You're not sure what his behavior responds to, whether it's a puppy's need for affection, the care of a lover or a primordial protective instinct that resides in the animal part of him.
His tongue slowly caresses your wound with mechanical and slow movements. They are of no use now, yet they speak of his need to have you near, to be worthy of having you.
It's a prayer for forgiveness he'll never say in words, but what's the need for words?
Your palms rest patiently on his shoulders, and his hand gently holds the opposite side of your face as he continues that primal ritual.
How many hidden sides does your magical prince have?
“You should do this more often.” You tell him, while you hug more to his chest.
“Don't get your hopes up.” He answers you, but in the meantime he feels your body abandoned in his hands, all your need to receive the love of your loved one.
Your hand rests on his neck, caresses him, then goes up his cheek, up to his sensitive ear. Leona meekly bows his head to let himself be cuddled. For once, in the middle of the night, with you, he can afford it.
You still love him, it's a relief. A relief that deserves his invaluable commitment, not to make you leave.
#twisted wonderland#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar#twisted wonderland leona#leona x reader#leona x you#reader insert#angst/comfort#twisted wonderland fluff
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Heartbreak Hotel—
Quinn Hughes x reader
Warnings: suggestive content (no actual sex) (it's literally only at the end), lmk if there's anything else I need to warn ppl about :)
I live for the angst of it all… I’m also ignoring the 40 requests in my inbox cause I’m lazy so here, to make up for my lack of motivation
Briggs, the Boeser family's two-year-old baby boy bounced on Y/N's knee. Small giggles erupted from him as he played with the sleeve of his favourite aunt's blouse.
A smile spread across the woman's face as she placed a kiss on the crown of the baby's head, "so when are you having one of your own?" Charlotte (I did in fact make a fake wife for Brock, so what??) asked with a smug grin as she sipped her coffee.
"We've definitely talked about it," Y/N joked wiggling her eyebrows at Charlotte who let out a laugh, the woman picked up her coffee cup to hide the look of discouragement on her face from her friend.
"Hughes still having intimacy troubles? I thought it would be much easier for him once he married"
Y/N's lips formed a straight line as she thought of her husband, "that's definitely not the issue, we decided that we just aren't ready yet"
"Ready? Y/N/N, you've been married three years nearly" Y/N looked at her best friend with this knowing look, "I will never understand how your guy's relationship works"
The blonde let out a quiet sigh, "we are just in a strange place right now" she shrugged, bringing her hand up to remove a lock of her hair from baby's hand, "it's not that I'm not ready, I would love to be a mom, but sometimes it feels like he doesn't want to take those next steps" she said with a sad smile.
Quinn's romance and love seemed to be fleeting, his concentration landing more on his life within the hockey world, rather than on his wife.
An issue that the two were tip-toeing around, sharing soft kisses and gentle words but only when he was thriving, only when he was accomplishing greatness.
If he wasn't blossoming to the level that he felt was acceptable the idea of loving his wife went out the window, and his heart stayed at the rink along with his passion.
As time went on Y/N learned to accept that this was the love that she was going to receive for the rest of her life. She would always fall second to hockey, it was his life and his greatest aspiration, and she could live with that.
But sometimes she wished he would just choose her for once.
"That's utter bullshit, he loves you, you know that," Charlotte said with a smile, Y/N just laughed and joked the agonizing conversation away, no longer wanting to speak about it if no one was going to listen to her point of view.
"I know he loves me, he married me for a reason" She bitterly smiled and took another sip of her coffee.
"When is Beau supposed to stop in?"
"He said he would stop in around noon, so any minute now?" both women stared at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, eleven fifty-five.
Within a matter of seconds, a man walked through the doors and sat in the seat next to Y/N, taking the baby out of her arms and tucking him into him, "hello little man" he said squeezing Briggs' cheeks.
"Look at his little smile," he said in a baby voice as he threw the baby in the air and caught him, just to listen to the little boy's addictive giggles.
"You two have that same IQ," Charlotte mumbled with disgust, followed by a smirk gaining a fake scowl from the man, Briggs trying to copy the look plastered on the grown man's face.
"My beloved Y/N, where is your grumpy husband, he hasn't been answering my texts all day, I'm having withdrawals" a fake tone of desperation lacing his voice as he batted his lashes.
"Both sets of in-laws are in town for my mom and Jim's birthdays this weekend, so we are hosting dinner tonight at the apartment" The woman stole the toddler right out of Tito's hold, sticking her tongue out at him as the little blondie curled up in her lap.
Her eyes wandered over to the clock again, realizing that it would be best if she left sooner than later in order to help Ellen and her mother with dinner preparations.
"Speaking of dinner, I should probably head out" She smiled sweetly and placed the tiny human back into Tito's grasp.
"I've barely blessed you with my presence and now you're leaving?" the woman nodded, "fake friend!"
"Bye Beau," she pushed his shoulder, ducking down to place a kiss on the toddler's forehead, "bye-bye Briggs," she waved.
"No goodbye kiss for me?" Charlotte asked as the woman got up and off of the couch to place a sloppy kiss on her best friend's cheek,
Finally showing herself out as the calls from her mother already began rolling in on things to grab from the store before making her way home.
⭐︎⭐︎
"Y/N, straighten your back, your posture is horrendous" her mother scoffed from behind her as she helped pull her mother-in-law's fresh-baked apple pie out of the oven.
"Sorry Mom," she said just above a whisper, adjusting her stance and placing the hot pie on the marble counter.
Quinn walked into the kitchen in search of a corkscrew, he was dressed nicely. A navy button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows leaving his muscular forearms on display.
He was always so carelessly attractive.
His eyes met hers, taking a moment to appreciate her beauty, drinking up her silk-covered silhouette and then flashing her a soft smile.
She hated how just the softest looks or gestures could flip her stomach, and wipe her memory of the past few months. Rid him of any blame for why their marriage seemed to be drowning rather than thriving.
"Mom?" he snuck up behind his wife and placed his hands on her hips to kiss her on the cheek, "Dad needs our help in the dining room," and just like that, his warmth was gone.
Quinn was always a gentleman, whether they were in a fight, or hadn't spoken to each other in days he would always greet her with kind words and treat her as if nothing was wrong between them.
It was all one big mind-fuck.
Although she was starting to believe that he had lost interest in her, he had made that very clear early into their marriage, she would always find things about him that she loved most about him and hold onto those feelings.
It wasn't like that in the beginning though, she didn't always feel the love slipping from between her fingers, it was intertwined in her soul, Quinn's love was her everything.
He was gentle and kind, promising her the world. Reminiscing of the life that he had dreamt of with her, but with every seeming day it was as if that dream was washing away.
Y/N couldn't find it in herself to hate him.
Even after the long nights of endless fighting, screaming until the only thing she could hear was her heartbeat in her temples. Opting to sleep in the spare bedroom because she couldn't look at him without feeling nauseated. Getting so close to just leaving, walking out the front door and never turning back.
But after every heated fight he would come to her at the latest hours of the night and apologize, hot tears streaming down his face as he apologized for raising his voice at her, and she would do the same thing to him.
They were in a constant cycle of tearing each other into pieces and then trying to tape each other back together as if the emotional damage wasn't already in effect.
Dinner started at exactly six sharp, Quinn held Y/N's hand over the table, a small motion that hid their issues with a sweet facade.
"So Quinn, your team is really taking advantage of the playoff push, you guys are killing it" Mr Y/L/N stated, his voice raspy with old age.
Quinn's face lit up at the mention of hockey, "The rebuild was really good for us, I'm just hoping to be able to contribute to the push" his wife smiled bitterly, and Ellen sat silently taking in the micro-aggressions that the couple sent each other.
"He's so humble," the young woman's mom grinned at her daughter and the rest of the table "You're basically carrying the team love" she smiled sweetly as Quinn denied her claims.
Quinn squeezed Y/N's hand, making her look at him with furrowed brows, "I never got the chance to tell you that you look stunning, that dress is..."
And there he was again, making soft comments that rid her of any anger or resentment she was holding against him.
"Thank you, you look very handsome as well" she whispered as he leaned forward slightly to place a kiss on her bare shoulder.
The parents sitting around the table completely oblivious to suffering that was silent but present.
"So when are we expecting grandkids?" Ellen said with a grin missing the way that both you and Quinn went rigid in your seats.
There it was, the million-dollar question.
The woman smiled awkwardly and looked up at Quinn as he shrugged, "we're a little young don't you think?" he asked with an unamused expression as he watched his mom shake her head.
"I would say twenty-five is a reasonable age" she shrugged and looked over to Y/L/N's mom who nodded in agreeement.
"I mean we are both busy people, and Quinn is always away for work"
"You're blaming us not having kids on my lack of presence?" Quinn scoffed and took a sip of his beer.
"That's not what I meant, Quinn" She took a deep breath and shook her head, "I just meant that we aren't ready, you've said it yourself it'll happen when the time is right!" she said defensively as she removed her hand from Quinn's and turned her body to face anyone else at the table other than him.
She picked her wine glass up and off the table to finish the remainder in her glass before heading to the kitchen to grab dinner from the oven, her mother-in-law following closely behind.
Ellen walked into the kitchen to see the girl leaning against the counter, her face hidden in her hands as she let the tears flow.
"What did my son do now?" the older woman asked gently as she pulled her daughter in-law into her arms.
Ellen Hughes always knew how to fix a situation.
"It's not his fault," she didn't even know how to express their issue in words, sentences getting caught in her throat as she cried into her mother-in-law's arms.
Ellen shook her head, "you can't carry all of that baggage sweetheart, let me try to diffuse it" she said dis-attaching herself from the young woman and grabbing a fresh bottle of Pinot Grigio from the wine fridge.
"I'm going to sound so selfish" she mumbled as she pulled the roast out from the oven, "but sometimes I just wish he would pick me, he would choose me over hockey and the team"
Ellen's expression softened, "that's not selfish, you just want to be a priority, you already should be his priority," she said quietly pouring herself and her daughter-in-law a glass of wine.
"The same thing happened to Jim and I just after we moved to Toronto, he was so consumed with the Leafs and their development that I carried all of the weight of our family," she said softly, wiping away the girl's tears, "you're not selfish, I just think you need to knock some sense into my son" she smiled, "if you talk, he'll listen, it's one of his greatest attributes" she smiled and grabbed the roast from the counter before heading back into the dining room to serve dinner.
⭐︎⭐︎
Quinn stood behind Y/N in their shared closet, she held hair in her hands as he gracefully unzipped the back of her silk dress.
An awkward look on his face as he tried to look anywhere but her almost naked silhouette, ignoring how the fabric pooled at her ankles and left her vulnerable.
"If I say something will you listen to me?" she asked quietly, turning around to see him in nothing but his sweatpants, a sad smile on his face, "I need you to hear me."
She watched as he nodded his head, getting slightly distracted from the way his back muscles flexed as he reached up and grabbed himself a new facecloth.
His shoulders were broad and muscular, his face soft. A pair of black wire-framed reading glasses sat perfectly on his nose, his brown slightly out-grown hair messy from running his hands through it.
He was so attractive, it almost made her angry how distracted she found herself.
"I want to fix this," he answered shortly with a frown, she slid on a pair of silk pyjama pants, remaining in her bra as he pulled her into his chest, "I love you."
"Do you really though?" she asked tiredly, forehead leaning against his chest as the exhaustion filled her voice.
"Of course?" he pulled away, slight panic on his features as he heard the seriousness in her tone.
"I feel so unimportant to you lately, I just want to feel like I mean something in your life, like the past six years of my life haven't been wasted on a man who prioritizes everything above me" she confessed.
Quinn opened his mouth to answer but was promptly silenced as she covered his mouth with her hand, "listen," she sighed, her hands now playing with the hair on the back of his neck as she made him look her in the eyes.
"I don't think I could tell you the last time that I looked at you and truly felt like you still loved me, you spend all your time with the team, and I'm not mad about that, I'm so proud of all the work you're putting into your dreams," her voice cracked as tears welled in her eyes, "I just want you to make me feel seen, I feel like our dream of a life together is slowly withering away."
Quinn's brows furrowed "I don't underststand," his hands squeezed her torso lightly as he pulled away, "is this because I said I wasn't ready to have kids yet? Cause I know your'e ready, and it seems like everyone around us is ready, I'm just not there yet," a tone that resembled defensiveness laced his voice as he watched the girl wipe her eyes and shake her head.
A dry laugh left the girls mouth as she sadly shook her head, "you're missing the whole point Quinn, it's not about wanting kids, I can't remember the last time we talked, or laughed together, or even the last time you genuinely touched me when it wasn't the outcome of a win and a night out with the boys!"
She watched a realization hit him, dawning on him just how much he had been taking her for granted, "I didn't- I don't know?"
His face falling as he backed up against the dresser, "I don't know how to make it right" was all he said staring at his wife whose face was puffy and tear covered, wearing an old t-shirt of his and short as she hugged herself.
Y/N knew Quinn wasn't inherently bad, the look of realization on his face showing her that this absence wasn't because he was bored or that he was tired of her, he was lost.
She bent down onto her knees and kneeled in front of him, "I just need you to love me."
"I do love you" he reached out and grabbed her hand, "I promise that I've never stopped loving, I never will."
"You need to show me that, you need to make it right Quinn, cause I can't stay in a marriage where my husband doesn't acknowledge my existence, and I don't want a life with someone who only needs me around when he's feeling on top of the world" she whispered as she place a kiss to his knuckle.
"I want the good, the bad, and the ugly, and I want it all with you."
He reached forward and wrapped his arms around her to pull her into his frame, "I will make it right," he whispered as he sat her down on his lap, straddling him, his hands finding comfort on the soft flesh of her thighs.
"I know you will" she mumbled, feeling like for the first time in a long time he was actually looking at her, actually listening to her every syllable.
His hand travelled up to her hip, nose bumping into hers as he eyed her bottom lip, "can I kiss you?"
"Please," she said breathlessly as he swooped in and captured her lips on his, his hands kneading the skin of her thigh as her hands found his jaw line, holding him as close to her as humanly possible.
She pulled away first, her chest heaving, lips swollen as she looked at his hazy expression, "that was a good start," she grinned as he wrapped her body around him, getting up off of the ground and travelling into their room.
"My apology hasn't even begun yet" he said smoothly, his lips making their way from her jaw down to her collarbone.
"You do have a lot of apologizing to do" she whispered into his neck as he laid her down on their bed.
A small grin on his face as she innocently stared up at him, "don't worry, we have all the time in the world."
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#quinn hughes#quinn hughes blurb#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes x reader#luke hughes#jack hughes#umich hockey#vancouver canucks#brock boeser#anthony beauvillier
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Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .5
Series Masterlist : Moodboard
(Joel Miller x F!Reader)
Content Warnings: Possessive behavior; Jealousy; Size difference; Size kink; One sad horny old man; Angst!!!! that will continue just FYI no abusing poor little vic for enjoying the suffering of others :) it’s not my fault :)
Rating: Explicit 18+
A/N: peep the cameo!!!!!! :)
Word Count: 6.1K
Read on AO3
.5
Vanish.
Pass into nothingness: the Keats line that frightened her.
Fade as the blue nights fade, go as the brightness goes.
Go back into the blue.
I myself placed her ashes in the wall.
I myself saw the cathedral doors locked at six.
I know what it is I am now experiencing.
I know what the frailty is, I know what the fear is.
The fear is not for what is lost.
What is lost is already in the wall.
What is lost is already behind the locked doors.
The fear is for what is still to be lost.
You may see nothing still to be lost.
Yet there is no day in her life on which I do not see her.
Joan Didion, Blue Nights
Weeks pass after that night in his truck. He calls, many times, but you never answer. And it makes you feel like the worst sort of liar, but you can’t. You can’t hear the sound of his voice, it’ll ruin you, destroy your resolve, force you to your knees at his feet, which is, if you’re being honest, the only place you really want to be. It is, perhaps, the greatest struggle of your entire life, to hold on by the skin of your teeth to this idea you have of what it is he and his marriage should remain as, and what you and he should be and should not be.
It’s Gerri’s birthday, and Tommy and her sister had decided to throw her a party at her house. Big surgeon money makes for a big fancy house, and Gerri was over the moon, filled with happiness and laughter and that wonderful brand of Gerri specific infectious glee that forces even your miserable, morose self to pull your butt out of bed and get ready to go celebrate her. She knows you’re sad, missing him, even if she doesn’t know it’s him specifically. Although, you suspect she might have an idea of it.
She’d begged you to come during class at the start of the week, planting her stubborn butt on a stool to stare you down while the rest of your students finished up their work and then put away their materials. Please’s and threats of tears and bodily harm and promises of copious amounts of alcohol, and if you’re feeling up to it, I could even hook you up with someone – an accompanying waggle of her eyebrows. What about a surgeon? My sister knows the perfect, sexy doctor for you. You’d profusely, profusely refused that. You could not even consider another man right now, the idea was almost repulsive to you. As she begged and pleaded and whined, another one of your students had come up, eavesdropping on the pathetic display of supplication, “Come on, teach. Don’t be a sour puss, put her outta her misery, and go to the fucking party with her,” she’d laughed. One of your best students – she had the most gorgeous tattoo on the inside of her forearm of two overlapping ferns with an intricately detailed moth at the head. She’d told you once she’d sketched it herself. You’d rolled your eyes at them, sour puss, my ass. But you knew you had to get out of this hole you’d dug yourself into, and so, their teasing had gotten to you in the end – forced you to agree to the party out of sheer preservation for your reputation. Gerri’d taken to calling you the boring barnacle… yeah, and she’d never stop if you didn’t agree – would probably force all your other students into making fun of you for the rest of the semester, as well. Annoying little shit, it was very aggravating that you loved her so much.
-
The house is stunning – big surgeon money indeed. All shining glass, sleek wood and modern edges. A huge infinity pool in the backyard, flanked by an impressively sized guest house that Gerri said she and Tommy stayed in sometimes when they got too drunk to drive home.
There was, after all, a doctor from Andrea’s work waiting for you at their undesired and annoyingly meddlesome behest. He was nice, handsome, boring. Not tall enough, not broad enough, hair blonde and straight and kind of straw-like – no dark, silver streaked curls and deep, warm eyes. He kind of reminds you of a shiny scarecrow, if you’re being honest and not very kind. Not Joel enough. But he was nice, and seemingly interested and he’d gotten you a drink and stayed by your side all night, attentive and polite.
You feel miserable and made out of plastic. Your smile, fake, forced, terrible. Something has to be done about this. Perhaps, electrotherapy, a lobotomy, an exorcism. Anything to get him out of your head.
The shiny, blonde scarecrow – doctor – is telling you about his shiny, blonde family and their fancy skiing trips now, and oh, do you ski? No? I bet you’d love it – maybe I can take you one day? Never mind that you’d been born without a single athletic bone in your entire body, when, suddenly, you hear your name being barked, rough and angry, from behind you, and then a large, searing hot palm circling your bicep on one side while his other palm slides along the span of the small of your back to grip you at the bend of your waist. Fuck.
“Joel–”
“Hi, sweetheart.” He does not look at you as he says it, but his grip on your waist tightens for one second. He’s staring down the shiny scarecrow, murder in his eyes. Oh, that look is very scary.
“What are you doing here?” He turns the scary look on you at that, and nope, nope, it’s even scarier pointed in your direction.
“Tommy told me you were here.”
“Wh– what? Why would he tell you?” He gives you a pointed look, and you glance at the scarecrow, nervous. “You told Tommy?” you whisper back at Joel.
Poor doctor man looks at a loss, gaze swinging back and forth between the two of you. “I’m so sorry, can you give us a minute?” you say, embarrassed. He takes one look at Joel’s terrifying face and scampers away.
-
Moron, he thinks, sour gaze following the fucker as he tucks tail and runs. He turns back to you, answering your question, “Didn’t have to, baby. He figured it out on his own. Don’t think we’ve been what one could call discreet if you’re really paying attention.”
You shut your eyes tight, bring up a shaky hand up to rub at the delicate wing of your brow. He desperately wants to smooth out the tiny frown marring the space between your eyes.
“N– no– but,” you stutter.
He takes the drink you’re holding out of your hand, takes a sip of it – something sweet and way too strong for your light-weight little butt. “Mm, he get that for you?”
You scrunch your nose up at him, and he knows he’s meant to take it as a sign of your annoyance, but all he can think is that you’re too adorable for your own good. “Wh– I– you overbearing, ridiculous – give that back!” you frown up at him as he holds it out of your reach. He sets the glass on a table behind you.
“Hmm–” His big hands span the width of your waist, can’t help himself, you’re so small compared to him. It makes his cock so hard. “Let me talk to you, please. Let’s go somewhere quiet.” He doesn’t care that he’s not supposed to be here, that he shouldn’t be bothering you, he’s reached the end of his rope.
“No – go away. It’s– it’s Gerri’s birthday.” You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he pulls you further into his chest. “I’m supposed to be having fun. She said she’d be mad if I didn’t have fun.” There are already overwhelmed tears in your eyes, and if he wasn’t so fucking desperate to see you, to talk to you after all these weeks of you ignoring him, he’d run away. Far, far away, where he can never make you cry again.
“Just for a little bit, please,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, causing the little wisps of hair there to flutter.
You shiver. “Where– where’s Sarah?” You bring your small hand up to clutch at his beard, cup his jaw, and scratch your nails gently down the side of his cheek, and fuck, he’s ready to burst, just with that, even as your other hand feebly tries to push at his chest. He slides a hand low on your back to press your pelvis into his.
“Baby-sitter.” Hearing you ask after his daughter has that soft spot behind his ribs where you live now, burn and pinch painfully.
“And–”
He cuts you off, doesn’t want to hear you talking about her. “Gone for the weekend – work conference.” Not that he believed that.
You open your eyes again, the tears lining your lashes make them almost glow in your skull. He can’t help himself, he bends to press a soft kiss over your eye, feels the whispering, wet flutter of your long lashes against his mouth. You let out a broken mewl for him – full of all your matched wanting. “F– fine. We’ll– we’ll just talk.”
Just talk, just talk, just talk.
He can feel the pulse of his blood beat through the line of his erection against his thigh. He wraps his hand around yours and starts leading you through the house, spots Tommy at the back of the kitchen, leaning against the counter talking to someone. His brother takes in the two of you together, gives him a subtle nod, inclines his head towards the backyard – the guest house where Joel was headed. Tommy had known, since that day so long ago when Joel had tried to discreetly tag along to the college – hoping to get a glimpse of you, he’d known there was something. Nothing discreet about your half assed excuses, reeked’a desperation, he’d said. His brother wanted him to be happy, to have a good, fulfilling relationship. He’d been telling Joel to get a lawyer for months, had been the first to tell him to not get married. He’d help him now, give the two of you time to sort this out. He knows just how insane Joel had been these past few weeks, like a caged animal, pacing and hissing at not being able to get at you.
He steps out the back door and pulls you towards the guest house. He’d been here once, months ago, helping Gerri’s sister out with a repair she’d needed. The two of you would have privacy there to talk, for you to finally stop avoiding him. He needs to speak to you, touch you, smell you. He was going out of his goddamn mind thinking about you, dreaming about you. His cock, constantly at half mast and leaking, at all hours of the day, just at your memory. Desperate, that’s what he is, he’s desperate for you.
“Who was that guy?”
“Who?” Your voice is anxious, breath hitching. He knows you’re twisting yourself up in knots, and he turns to pull you into his arms now, in the privacy of the dark room, lit only by the light of the moon spilling through the large bay windows.
“The one you were talking to.” He draws his palm slowly up and down the line of your spine, feelings the little bumps and jitters of your trembling form. Skittish little rabbit. He rubs his mouth over the line of your hair, baby soft wisps tickling his nose and mouth. You smell so good, he wants to rub himself all over you like some sort of animal – mark his territory.
“Wh– I– You cannot be serious right now.” You push at him, turn to move away, but he catches you around the bend of your elbow, tugging you back forcefully into his chest. He presses his front along the line of your back, grips your hip to bring your ass into the hard line of his cock.
“Does this feel serious to you?” He’s hard as stone, throbbing beneath his jeans.
“Oh God, Joel–”
“Don’t want you talkin’ to other men, thinking about any other men. I know it sounds insane – can’t help it, I’m sorry.”
“I– I don’t think about anyone else but you,” you whimper.
He wraps his arms around your waist, brings one large hand up to cradle the weight of your breast and squeeze. He can feel the stiff little furl of your nipple through your dress. He feels a little unhinged right now, overwhelmed by the feel and scent of you. “I miss you,” he whispers. “Have you missed me?” He presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear that has a violent shiver jerking down your vertebrae, you grind your ass harder into him, give him the sweetest little moan. “All I do is think about you.”
“I did, I did– I miss you so much. I wanted to talk to you, I did,” you whimper, “But– but we shouldn’t, Joel,” you say at the same time as your hand comes up and around to twist into the curls at the back of his head. He turns your head with his hand wrapped around your jaw, his entire palm cups around your neck to your cheek, thumb pressing harshly into the corner of your mouth to angle you exactly how he wants you, and then he’s tasting behind your teeth, the wet lick of his tongue into yours sends a bolt of lust straight through him, almost bringing him to his knees. He moans, deep and rumbling into your panting mouth, and your answering keen has the dribble of his precum sliding down his thigh. He needs to be closer, he needs to be inside. Fuck, he’s in danger of coming just from this, just from the sweet taste of you, your little moans, all for him.
“Did you like that boy? Think he was nice, hmm?”
“Wha– No– no, Joel. I don’t even know him.” Brow scrunching into the most adorable little frown he’s ever seen. You blink your lashes at him, eyes glassy and slightly dazed.
He snakes his other hand down the front of your dress and under the lace of your panties, cupping the entirety of your mound in his palm. Fuck, you’re soaked and he’s touching you, finally, finally, he’s touching you here.
“Is all this wet for him or for me?” he says softly, dipping a single finger into your seam, a ghost of a touch over the bud of your clit. Fuck, you’re soft. Soft and swollen and soaking wet. He never wants to see you near another man again, it’s unreasonable, insane, he knows this. But the dilemma of having seen you, tasted you, felt you, but only by half measures, not really having you, well… it sets the stage for insanity. This he cannot help.
“For you, for you– please, Joel. Just–”
“She’s drooling for me, baby.”
“Don’t be mean,” you cry.
“Will you let me make you feel good, sweet girl? Please, I just want to make you feel good.” He presses wet kisses over your cheek, down your neck to lick into the hollow of your collarbone. Your hips hitch in little grinds trying to gain more purchase against his palm, and he circles your clit slowly. You’re fucking dripping, and he moves down to press over your entrance, gives you the slightest hint of everything else he’d like to give you.
“Oh, please–” He slides two of his fingers into the last knuckle then, to the hilt. You’re so wet, there’s no resistance at all. Your cunt swallows his fingers whole, and the both of you let out ragged moans in tandem. You’re fucking tight, and he needs to feel you around his cock, he has to. He’ll die if he doesn’t. He’ll die.
“We– we were supposed t– to talk,” you stutter, little cunt grinding down as hard as you can on his thrusting fingers. The wet squelch is deafening and obscene in the quiet of the guest house, and he can almost feel the steam of your lust and embarrassment at the sound rolling off of your skin like heat waves.
“Yeah, yeah, baby. We’ll talk in a second.” He licks a long wet swipe along the edge of your jaw, bites down harshly, and he can feel the tight clench of your cunt at the small hurt. He pulls his fingers from you, and you let out a protesting mewl, but then he’s spinning you in his arms and kissing you. Something savage and uncontrolled rising up inside of him. He half carries, half drags you down the hall to the bedroom he knows is at the back of the house, pulls the neckline of your dress down to get at your tits, sucking and nipping as much of the soft flesh he can get at. All the previous moments of restraint, of not touching, of just watching, have turned him into this uncontrolled beast. He can feel your little feel dangling off the ground, over his boots. He almost stumbles as you lose one of your sandals, stepping over your shoe, and gripping the back of your thigh to hoist you up higher, grinding you against his length.
He sets you down on the bed, pushing you back to lay across it as he tugs the soft cups of your bra down to get at your bare tits, sucking one peaked nipple into his mouth and pulling hard on the tip. So fucking beautiful. He swirls his tongue around your softness, kisses the underside of it, nips at the full, round side, switches to give the other one the same attention. You’re whining and crying out for him, almost sobbing. So sensitive, so sensitive – little fingers twisted in his hair to pull him closer, but he’s moving down, pulling away from your searching mouth and lifting the hem of your dress. He bends to bury his face in the soft apex of your thighs and breathes deep – satisfaction, hunger, rumbling through his chest. You smell so fucking good. He sticks his tongue out to lick at your slit over the lace of your soft, pink panties, sweet, little bow adorning the front of them.
“Hush, lemme kiss your pussy for a little bit,” he soothes, “Don’t cry,” and you’re spreading your legs immediately at that. Good girl.
He hooks his fingers under the soaking wet center plaque of your panties to pull it aside and drags the flat of his tongue right through your seam. Fuck, fuck. He shuts your legs to rip the fabric down your legs and then rips them open again to get at your cunt. Your back arches, curved tight like a bow string, and you spread your legs wider for him, tug on his hair to urge him closer. He settles between the space you’ve made for him – thinks that he just might like to live here for the rest of his life. He sucks your clit into his mouth and starts to press a single finger inside, giving you something to bear down on.
“God, Joel–” your gasps are wet, on the verge of overwhelmed tears, or already there, perhaps, “Feels so– so good.”
“Taste so fucking good–” He starts to fuck you with his finger, adding another, giving you more to stretch around. You’re so wet, leaking down to pool in his palm, and he focuses on your sensitive little nub, licking and sucking and kissing it, all while he watches the heave and tremble of your breasts, back arched so that you can rock into his ministrations.
“Oh, I’m– I’m gonna come.” Yes, already, “I’m gonna–” He can feel the ripple and throb of your inner muscles working around his thrusting fingers, he hooks them against the deep, spongy spot at the front of your walls and sucks on your clit. Everything goes tight and liquid inside of you. The rapid flutter of your muscles trying to suck his fingers deeper, as you gush into his mouth, has all the blood rushing from his head to his dick so quickly he feels slightly faint. He licks you through it, gentling the thrust of his fingers but not stopping. Your restless legs shift around him, too much, and then he’s shifting back up to you, a bite to your nipple, a kiss pressed to the underside of your jaw, and he’s pulling you down the bed so your ass is right at the edge and tugging at his zipper, pulling his boxers down to free his aching cock and heavy balls. Fist clenched tight around himself, he jacks it once, twice and then presses the angry, red head to your clit, slides the underside of it through your cleft to feel the heat and wetness. Shit, your skin is scorching hot, soaked, and he can see the slight clench of your hole, begging to be filled.
“Joel, please I– I want–”
“Fuck – will you let me– will you let me put it in? Just a little bit?” He’s thrusting against the slick red of you, palm pressed against the shaft to create friction on either side. On every pull back his head catches the smallest bit at your entrance, and fuck, fuck, it would be so easy, so good, “Just– just for a second, baby, please? Just the tip?”
“I – I don’t– I–” The head catches more fully, the wide tip of it giving you just the first slight stretch of it. “Oh, please–” Please, please, please.
He feeds you the first inch – eyes glued to the way your little hole stretches obscenely around his fat girth, “Shit,” he snarls. He fucks you just like that, with just the tip and you try and arch even more, impossible, you’re already pulled tight as an arc, trying to take him deeper, and then your knee is hitching against his hip and pressing him in closer. He slides all the way inside, to the very end of you, in one smooth, devastating go. He feels his tip bump against the mouth of your womb, and your shared moan is pained and ragged. Your fluttering lids springing all the way open, eyes wide, almost shocked. The look shared between the two of you – incredulous, as if neither of you knew – had ever occurred to you – that something in this world could ever feel this good.
He buries his face in your neck, shuts his eyes tight. Fuck, he’s gonna come, he’s gonna come. Your gasping moans, the lush press of your breasts to his chest, the fluttering of your cunt around him – nothing in all his life has ever felt like this. There’s a pain, deep in his chest, in a place he didn’t even know existed. This is like nothing else that has ever existed in this world. He’ll never be able to let you go after this, never, never.
He wraps his hand around your throat, tries to settle you. “Don’t– don’t move, don’t make a sound–”
“I can’t– I can’t– You’re so deep.” Your legs kick restlessly around him.
“Baby, shut up, please,” he begs, he cannot come yet, he cannot. This is the first time in over three years he’s been inside of a woman, the first time he’s been inside of you. He cannot ruin it with a happy trigger finger. You’re clawing at his back, gasping and crying for him to move, to fuck you, please, please, please, fuck me. He slides a hand under your butt and lifts you slightly off the bed to bring you closer to him, grinds his cock deep, deep, right at your cervix so that you’re crying for real now.
“Too much, too much,” you clutch tightly at his bicep, going back and forth between trying to push him away and pull him closer. He can feel the wet press of your tears sliding along his cheek, over his mouth, and he licks his lips to taste them, has his eyes rolling to the back of his head at their saltiness. He hitches you more firmly in his grasp and starts to fuck you. His thrusts, deep and devastating, punching all air, voice, thought out of you, heavy balls slapping wetly against your ass.
“You can take it, you can take it. You can take anything I give you. You’re my pretty, perfect girl,” he grits, pulls himself up so he can stare at the place where you’re taking him, puffy, red cunt stretched obscenely around his slick base.
“You feel so good– I can’t, I can’t– What are we going to do? What are we going to do? It feels so good.” You’re crying, incoherent, fucked out look in your eyes as you claw at his shirt, little nails scraping over his belly and chest. He grips you under one knee to pull your leg up, hooking your ankle over his shoulder to deepen the angle. You come again, instantly, just at the change, the deepening of the angle, the head of his cock battering savagely against that deep, soft spot inside you.
“Fuck, yeah. Let me feel that cunt get wet, little girl.” Your mewls are high pitched, supplicant, and you gush around him. He feels it soak his pelvis, drip down his balls.
No one’s ever been this deep, nothing’s ever felt like this, you say, over and over again.
He plants one knee on the bed and hunches over you, ankle still dangling limply over his shoulder and pounds into you. The feel of your cunt rippling around him, sucking him deeper is too much. He wishes he could last longer, feel you come around him again. What if you never let him do this again? What if you never want him again after this? What if it’s just a one time thing? He’ll never get over this, he’ll never be able to move on from this. He can’t hold back, he starts to fill you, hot thick spurts coating your insides, and you moan again at the searing heat of him, right at the mouth of your womb, grinds deep, deeper, as deep as he can, the contractions of your inner muscles pulling him in. He wishes he could crawl beneath your skin, live inside of you, make a home for himself behind the safe cage of your ribs, and he thinks that you’re right, nothing has ever felt like this, nothing will ever feel like this again.
He’s ruined now. You’ve ruined him
He collapses on top of you, wants to crush you with his heavy weight, meld your chests together so that you’ll have to be with him forever after this. He presses wet, breathless kisses to the vulnerable underside of your jaw, behind your ear where your scent is the most concentrated, breathes you in deeply. You wrap your arms and legs around him, and he can feel the clench of your inner muscles around his softening cock. He hasn’t done this in a long time, he wonders what his refractory period is now, if he’ll be able to go again soon, if you’ll let him.
“I wanted that so badly,” you whisper, nuzzle your nose into his hair.
“Me too, sweetheart.”
“I’m scared.”
“You have nothing to be scared of. I would never hurt you,” he promises because it’s the truth. He’d never do anything to purposely hurt you.
“I’m scared of what I feel for you,” you say quietly, “I– I don’t–”
He slides his hand under you to press you closer. “I know, sweet girl. Me too.” He angles your head to give himself access to your mouth, starts his kiss out soft and gentle, slotting your full upper lip between both of his to pepper soft little pecks and sucks to it, then tilts his head to get a deeper angle and lick into you.
You’re completely relaxed beneath him. Soft and warm and wet, entirely pliant. So sweet. It’s one of the things he loves most about you, how sweet you are. Sweet and kind and earnest – tenderhearted. You’re right, in a way, this is something to be afraid of. The things he feels for you – the depth of it, it’s not something he was expecting, not prepared for, but he’s certain there isn’t a way of stopping it now. This is what it is, will go where it was always going to go, from the first moment he saw you, touched you, tasted you.
“What are we going to do?”
“I want to tell her.” It’s the only truth, the only road he wants to go down. He wants to be with you, he wants this out in the open. “You aren’t a secret to be kept or hidden. You deserve to be cherished out in the open.”
Your tears spill harder at that, “Joel–”
“Baby,” he lifts up slightly to look at you, “This is it.”
You turn to look away and he feels dread coil in his gut. If you pull away from him now he’ll lose his mind. He isn’t prepared for this, he isn’t the type of man who’s ever had to deal with this type of feeling. “I – I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I– I don’t want–”
“You don’t want what?” he brushes a loose strand of hair away from your face, runs the tip of his finger along the arch of your brow, down the slope of your nose. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” he says, because it’s the truth. In this moment, he thinks he’d do anything at all you’d ask of him. Open his very veins for you. You have him speared by the heart, eating out of the palm of your small hand.
“I don’t want to be the reason your marriage ends,” your brow crumples, “I told you. I– I can’t be. I couldn’t live with that.”
“My marriage never really began to start with. I told you that.” He moves to pull out, both of you groaning softly at the sensitive slide of his cock slipping out of you, the slick gush that follows. He sits back on his heels, grips both of your knees to keep you spread and enjoy the sight of the viscous drip of his spend out of your messy hole. He wants to bend to eat his own come out of you. You’ve turned him into some sort of beast, subjugated to the scent and sound and feel of your body. But instead he turns to sit at the edge of the bed, tucks himself back into his jeans. He leans forward, elbows resting against his spread knees, and drags his palm over his face, rubs the scruff of his beard. He feels you turn to curve around him, your hand snaking up the back of his shirt to press your palm against his hot skin, your knees curling into his lap around his waist. “It was never – it was never– I don’t even know. Never a real marriage, I suppose. Or never something either of us wanted for the right reasons. I – I felt like it was the right thing to do, at the time, for Sarah. I told you this. But– but it was never how it should’ve been. I worry now, sometimes, if we haven’t just done more damage to her, built a foundation that’s so rotten, so broken, that she’ll be able to feel it for the rest of her life.”
“Joel,” you whisper, dragging your fingers softly up and down his back.
“She was born into a broken home – how can I ever– how can I ever make that up to her?” He turns back to look at you then, “A home where her parents never loved each other – barely even tolerated each other. What is that gonna do to her? What will that teach her about love and relationships?” He grips you around the bend of your knee, anchors himself with the feel of your soft skin beneath his rough palm.
“I think that, from– from experience, that it will be enough for her to know that she has you, that you love her, that you’ll always be there for her. You’re a good father, Joel. A– a wonderful father. She’s so, so lucky to have you.” And the look in your eyes as you say this to him is so earnest, so sincere and kind that he knows, in that very instant, that he’s falling in love with you, that he is already in love with you. He folds over to press his face into your belly, hug you tight to himself. “Your love for her will teach her what love is supposed to be. Honest, forgiving, patient. She doesn’t need any other example than that. That’s enough for a little girl, trust me.” You drag your nails gently along his scalp.
He presses a kiss to your belly, another to your still bared breast. He rests his cheek on your chest to look up at you. “Thank you. Thank you for that.” What he really wants to say is, thank you for existing, thank you for finding me, thank you for being magic, thank you for letting me touch you. Please, let me keep even one small piece of you, I’ll take such good care of it for the rest of my life, I promise.
“But you– you can’t tell your wife about this, can’t– can’t leave her for me. That isn’t– that isn’t ever what I wanted, or– or set out to do. I told you why, I explained this to you.” He watches a bright flush flood your cheeks, brow folding into a frown as you stutter out the words. “I don’t want you to do that.”
“What’s left of this marriage is going to end either way. It’s only a matter of time.”
“But not for me. Not because of me, or for you to run straight to me. I can’t– I couldn’t live knowing I’d done that.”
“You haven’t done anything. This was done a long time ago, the foundation was damaged from the start.”
“N– no, still. I can’t.” You shift away from him, sit up to right your clothes. There is a part of you that hums the sounds of uncertainty, he can hear it in your voice, but it is so quiet in the face of everything else. The echo of your screeching guilt and fear so loud, it overwhelms everything else.
“So, then what? This was just a one time thing? You want nothing more from this? From me?” He spits, hurt. He knows he should be gentle, not get angry, but the thought of you taking yourself away from him now makes panic climb like fire up his chest and throat.
“I don’t know,” you say quietly, face still turned away from him. “I– I can’t tell you that right now. But I do know that I don’t want you to tell your wife, or to leave her for me.”
“So you think I should stay with her? Even though we’re both miserable. Even though all I want is to be with you. That’s what you want me to do?”
You let out a hoarse, anguished little sound at that, but then: “That’s not for me to say.” Your voice sounds broken, jagged, lacerating. “That isn’t my business,” you say so quietly, almost like you’re afraid to utter the words out loud, know what a lie they are. But he hears it. Loud and clear, like a slap to the face.
“Not your business?”
“I should get back.” You stand to right your dress, he watches your shaking knees knock together, and he reaches out to catch you if you need him, but you steady yourself on your own. When you finally turn back to look at him, there are tears streaming down your face. In some sick, twisted way, the sight of them is a comfort. They tell him that this isn’t what you really want, that your words hurt you too. In a way, they help him understand you better, as well. You’re trying to do what you think is the right thing, as wrong as it is for all of you involved. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, wringing your hands together. He only nods. You go to clean yourself up in the restroom, shutting the door quietly behind you.
-
When you step back out into the bedroom, he’s already gone, but there’s a glass of water left waiting for you on the bedside table.
Chapter .6
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