#and yet they know they can count on me the same ive counted on them and the same i still do count on them. and thats just- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slttygeto · 11 months

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MORE THAN THAT— LO’AK SULLY.

pairing: x fem! reader.

tags: childhood friends to lovers, a little bit of angst towards the middle, insecure lo’ak, reader is mad at him, lack of communication because i love pain, they’re both 18 during the second half! a little suggestive towards the end, this is a long one btw :].

word count: 7k (my longest fic!!!)

note: ive been writing this for about a month (on and off obviously) and i thought i might share it now that i finally decided where to end it (?), it’s not entirely proof-read, my amazing best friend @aurelianamu (check her neteyam piece its amazing) read some of it and told me what to fix, so the rest will be corrected along the way. thank you for reading!

dividers by: @firefly-graphics

You are ten when you first meet the Sully’s, family of Toruk and Palulukan Makto.

Being the newest friend of Kiri, the second oldest didn’t hesitate to introduce you to her family, proud of the fact that she managed to make a friend so easily. You were shy, closed off and unsure of how to behave in the presence of the man that your parents told you many stories about. Your little child brain was curious to know as to how he behaved with his family, if he would be nice to you or strict and harsh, even if he had no reason to show anything besides kindness to his daughter’s newest friend.

“She is the same age as Lo’ak,” Kiri exclaimed with lots of excitement, holding your hand tightly while standing in front of her parents.

“Is that so?” Kiri’s mother, Neytiri, spoke with a gentle tone, smile adorning her lips which was unusual since she always seemed to be sporting a serious look on her face around The People.

“Who is the same age as me?” A voice spoke from behind you and suddenly, you were very aware of the fact that Kiri had more siblings than you—in fact, you had none. So you jumped slightly, a little surprised by the proximity of the boy.

“(Name), my friend!” Kiri’s excitement while introducing you warmed your heart but it also made you hyperaware of the looks you were receiving even if they weren’t malicious.

“Your friend?” Lo’ak stated in question, eyes scanning your face before puffing his chest out proudly like a peacock. “I bet being my friend would be more fun!”

Now, you weren’t expecting that. Kiri let go of your hand to push her brother back, almost telling him off at his attempt at stealing you away from her and you could only watch in horror as the bickering turned into hair pulling.

“Hi, I’m Neteyam.” Neteyam’s voice was soft and gentle, very similar to his mother’s and it made you relax for a moment before you realized you had to introduce yourself as well. Yet before you could speak, he was cutting you off with a nod. “(Name), I heard Kiri introduce you.”

You nodded back at him, eyes falling on the scene unraveling before you; Lo’ak and Kiri being scolded heavily by Toruk Makto himself, his eyes warning them that if they tried to say one more word, they would get grounded for a whole month.

“Ma Jake, be nice. We have a guest.” Neytiri tried to console.

“Exactly, so they should learn how to behave,” Jake Sully grabbed his kids and made them stand in front of you. “It’s up to her if she wants to befriend either of you, okay?”

“But dad! I found her first!” Kiri’s bottom lip quivered and you stepped towards her with a look of concern.

“Kiri, you’re my friend.” Lo’ak huffed at this, head dramatically turning to the side making his hair move with him. “Lo’ak can also be my friend.” Said boy’s ears perked up at this, face slowly turning to face you while scanning for any possible clues that you were just kidding.

Jake smiled at this, hand resting on top of your head before ruffling your hair. “Yeah? You wouldn’t mind befriending this knucklehead?”

“Knucklehead?” Your confusion only added to the fun of it and Jake chuckled before standing up straight.

“It means he needs someone to look out for him at all times.”

“Dad!” Lo’ak whined at the statement yet you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.

“Friends look out for each other, right?” Your question earned a nod of approval from Toruk Makto and that was all you needed before stepping forward, firmly holding Lo’ak’s hand in your own.

“Lo’ak and I are friends then.” The youngest boy stared at you in awe, feeling the tips of his ears warm up at the sincerity of your voice.

“Friends.”

You are twelve when you learn what a pinky promise is.

You loved hanging out with Kiri, yet she and the rest of her family couldn’t deny the obvious chemistry between you and Lo’ak.

Despite the youngster’s stubborn personality and disobedient nature, he became more tolerable around you. That didn’t mean that he stopped from causing trouble, but he was seen around you sharing toys, passing you bits of food that was handed to him by his mother and even went as far as to to grab a giant leaf from a tree to cover you when you curled yourself into a ball to sleep.

The same could be said about you, yet your personality was never a problem in the first place. Kiri knew you as the kind hearted young na’vi that you presented yourself to be and you didn’t change around any of her family members. Although, she was able to notice the way you let things slide for the sake of being close to Lo’ak, such as letting him near your personal space, allowing him to touch your hair and look at the beads while proudly showing off your mother’s choice of colors and even letting him redo one of your braids as you two sat in silence.

Kiri wanted to feel jealous of this, she did befriend you first but she couldn’t help but let her heart feel at ease. Her brother and closest friend got along and it was worth more than anything in the world.

“Lo’ak, aren’t all sky people bad?” you were currently in the middle of your play session with the young na’vi, and the latter halted his actions at your words to stare at you with furrowed eyebrows. He noticed your stare, how it lingered on Spider, their human companion for as long as they could remember, before returning his eyes back on you.

“My dad was once a sky person, he isn’t bad at all.”

“Your dad is Toruk Makto!” you exclaimed almost in disbelief at the fact that Lo’ak was insinuating that you were even thinking of lumping his dad with those terrible people who had once destroyed your home.

“I’m just saying, if my dad is nice and he once was a sky person, then it means there’s a chance good sky people exist.” Lo’ak answered with a shrug. He trusted easily, that was something you envied him for. You couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling whenever you stared at Spider and a part of you felt bad that your brain didn’t allow you to relax in the presence of a boy who had done nothing to you, his only crime was to belong to a race that caused you great pain and suffering.

“It could be true…” Your friend was able to sense your anxiety just by looking at your body shrink in its spot, your arms hugging your knees closer to your chest before resting your head there. He might’ve not been the softest out of his siblings, but he knew that you needed comforting ; any kind that is.

“Hey listen,” Lo’ak put his toy down next to you before leaning down to your level with his pinky finger up. “I promise that I won’t ever let sky people do anything to you, okay? Pinky promise.”

Despite the feeling of warmth that you felt at his words, the obvious confusion on your face was a telltale sign that you didn’t know what a pinky promise was.

“Pinky… promise?” your voice came out soft, hesitant as you mirrored lo’ak’s actions and the moment he hooked both of your pinkies together, you felt your heart strings tug in your chest.

“Yes. A promise that is never meant to be broken.”

At your silence, Lo’ak realized that you had been staring at his hand. Hard.

Upon figuring out what was so fascinating about his hand that it silenced you, he immediately tried to pull it back on his lap, regretting a little the fact that he got too comfortable showing you his hand, his filthy demon hand.

“No,” you started with a stern look, grabbing his hand to pull back next to your face and held his pinky finger up with much concentration on your face.

“I don’t judge, I like your hands,” you hooked your pinky finger once again with his and Lo’ak wasn’t able to shake off the funny feeling in his chest, how his heart leapt as he nervously gulped down the lump in his throat.

“Pinky promise?” His voice came out as a whisper, almost in disbelief that you were accepting of who he was and who he came from. he did believe that his father was the exception to use as an example to justify good sky people existing.

“Pinky promise.”

Fourteen and fifteen were an easy age, you got along most of the time and everyone was scared when the both of you teamed up against them. Yet sixteen and seventeen had proven to you that you were both strong minded and that made you butt heads often, only in harmless ways.

You two are eighteen you realize that the bickering and butting heads was just a love language of yours, that your disagreements would never take away from how much you cared for each other.

“You have got to be one knucklehead to do something like that!” You hiss at the boy who could only stare back at you with an equally murderous glare, clearly disliking the vocabulary you were using.

“I am no knucklehead if I just wanted to have fun.” He hissed in return, and it quickly turned into a groan when your hands tugged harshly at the bandage circling his arm, sending him a warning that you weren’t going to let it slide easily just because he was wounded.

“Fun on the war zone? I didn’t know that playing with your life is the newest form of entertainment.” His family watched in absolute entertainment as you two bickered back and forth. The argument kept shifting from humorous to serious and they didn’t know where to stand.

On the outside, it seemed as though you disliked one another, yet this was just another day for the Sullys where you and Lo’ak bickered so much, they had to get you two separated to make it stop.

“Shit- stop! that hurts!” he almost wailed, leaning back against the tree when you applied the ointment to the cut on his face and given the expression of disapproval you had on yours, Lo’ak could only mutter under his breath as he fixed his posture.

“Man, am I not allowed to complain now?”

“Lo’ak,” you started, and he could immediately sense your change in demeanor by how visibly deflated you looked.

“I’m okay,” He cut you off with a firm stare, but his hand held a warmth to it, a gentle reminder that he could never be mean to you for a long time as he rested his palm on top of your hand. “Really, it was just one reckless moment that is all.”

“You’ve been saying this for— Eywa knows how long, Lo’ak, it’s serious. You need to watch out.”

“You don’t trust me?” With his tone, you could tell he was genuinely curious to know what you felt about him as a warrior and his heart was ready to shatter into pieces, waiting for the usual answer that was chanted like a mantra by his father.

“I mean, I’m not as strong or as cool as big brother Neteyam, but I can be helpful on the field and–“

“Lo’ak, I trust you.” You were never one to lie, especially not when you let your eyes fall on his. Flashing him a small smile, your fingers applied the ointment on the rest of the cuts on his face in a much more delicate manner, taking in how his tail was swaying from side to side at your comment.

“Someone is a little happy,” you teased, hands gathering all the medical stuff that his grandmother had given you to put them back in their spot.

“I will push you off my Ikran next time we go on a ride.” the glare on his face was playful and you couldn’t help but pat his head affectionately.

“I can always call for my own Ikran you idiot.” He wasn’t even able to push you away when you leaned down with your pinky up to his face.

“Pinky promise, by the way,”

“Pinky promise?” You didn’t let him stay confused for long before grabbing his wrist to intertwine your pinky fingers together.

“That I trust you. With all of my heart.” and with that, you took off with your tail swaying softly from side to side.

Lo’ak observed you for some time after you left, ignoring how his face still stung a little from you tending to his small wounds. Sighing in exhaustion, he ignored the looks he was getting from Kiri who sat only a couple of steps away from him.

“Shut up.” He turned his head away when he saw his sister approach him with a teasing grin, ready to tell her off for the umpteenth time the same week for teasing him about the usual topic.

“I haven’t even said anything,” Kiri plopped herself next to her brother, immediately taking notice of how Lo’ak was able to see you every move from his spot.

“I know what you will say and you’re wrong.”

“So you’re just going to keep denying the obvious heart eyes you have for my best friend?” The girl na’vi raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“I don’t have heart eyes for my best friend too, if you haven’t forgotten yet, I would never do anything to ruin the friendship.” To say that Lo’ak was an idiot was an understatement.

Kiri had told him that a crush would never ruin the friendship but Lo’ak saw it differently. You were a comfort he never thought he could have in a person beside family, a safe space for him to runaway to whenever things got too stressful with his father, Jake, and most importantly you were a best friend, a ride or die and someone who cared about him too much for him to risk watching everything fall apart.

His heart squeezed at the white lie he told his sister, another moment of denial where he forcefully swallowed down any possible trace of romantic feelings for his best friend and Kiri sighed in defeat, having already given up on the topic for the day.

“If you say so, don’t be disappointed if she finds someone else.” She stood up from her spot on the tree, looking down at her brother who visibly flinched at the mention of you possibly finding a mate, a lifelong partner and someone who would proudly show you off before Eywa.

“I would be happy for her,” Lo’ak almost bit his tongue at his attempt to fool his own heart, to halt it from hammering so strongly against his chest and stop himself from feeling so upset at the thought.

“Brother, you’re a fool.” Was all what Kiri said before walking away towards you and starting a casual conversation as usual, asking you if you wanted to go on a ride on your Ikrans after making sure every warrior was safe and taken care of.

And Lo’ak could only watch with a tight jaw, flexing his hand in an attempt to stop himself from possibly punching himself in the face.

Maybe Jake was right, he was a disappointment. Someone who isn’t even able to maintain a proper friendship without falling hard for his best friend, and the uncertainty of keeping things strictly platonic with you was eating him up alive. He hoped that Eywa would make his worries go away, and perhaps find a solution to the mess he had created inside his head.

Eywa didn’t take long before answering his prayers, but it came with a cost.

Longing stares and hours of talking to one another way past curfew after sneaking out turned into cold shoulders and short conversations. The effort was barely there and you could tell Lo’ak didn’t even want to acknowledge your existence whenever you came around and it hurt, it pained you that you didn’t even know what you had done wrong to suddenly lose a person whom you held so dear to your heart.

Your lip quivered as you stared at the plate of fruits you had freshly cut up for Lo’ak, tears threatening to spill from your eyes when you remember how he harshly rejected your offer at spending time together.

“I have a meeting with my father. Later.”

“But Lo’ak we haven’t–“

“Don’t be so clingy, I said later. Go find someone else to eat the fruits with.”

Clingy? Someone else?

You didn’t want to eat them with anyone beside him. Having him call you clingy when he used to get excited to spend time with you, saved you the last bits of his food and would talk your ear off about his schedule, it was all confusing. You didn’t know what you had done wrong and if you were even able to fix it given how it was painfully obvious that you were the source of the miscommunication going on.

It felt like Eywa wasn’t on your side the past few weeks, and your heart squeezed in disappointment at how your strong faith was being questioned by such tough times. You never doubted your deity, believed that everything happens for a reason but what could possibly come out of being so abruptly separated from Lo’ak?

You headed back to your hammock and set the plate aside to grab your pen and paper. When everything felt like it was falling apart, writing seemed to be the safest option. You found comfort in spilling your worries to a sheet of paper and weren’t ashamed of it, in fact, you were praised greatly for it by Kiri who had told you that her mother would’ve definitely developed an interest to you and your ways of distressing.

Oh Eywa has it been difficult to breathe as of late. Lo’ak hates me, that I am sure of. I have been nothing but a good friend to him and I’m confused and heartbroken, I don’t know what to do Eywa and I want to talk to him, to ask him what caused to hate me so strongly. Maybe it’s my strong love for him? Have I pushed it too far?

To be truthful, you had been in a state of denial for quite some time now. You were a friend to Lo’ak, a companion and a person who was always by his side but your heart craved more.

It was the way your heart leapt whenever Lo’ak came around, throbbing when he sat next to you, leaving no space between the both of you. How your body tensed when he would place his hands on your shoulders and he would stare at you with concerned eyes, wondering if he had smacked your skin a bit too hard.

But you knew it was wrong. It was unacceptable for you to feel this way for your best friend, even more horrible to crave him in ways only two people who are mated want one another.

You felt rustling behind you and jumped at the noise, head whipping back with fearful eyes only to relax once you realized that it was just Neteyam.

You had grown to enjoy the boy’s company over the years and he was nothing but nice to you. The two of you had short yet sweet conversations and you could tell that Neteyam saw you as a sister, someone who belonged in the family more than anyone else.

“Thought you had a meeting with Mr. Sully?” your voice was small as you scribbled on your paper, lips pressed in a thin line and posture slouched as you leaned against the tree.

“Fix your posture, you’ll feel like you’re eighty when you’re twenty.” Neteyam tried to brighten up the mood, only to realize that it poor timing since you only flashed him a weak smile before giving a half assed attempt at sitting up properly.

“So no meeting, he just didn’t want to see me?” The boy flinched at your words and he wished you didn’t notice, but you were smart and you had a sharp eye. Things like body language and little white lies didn’t go unnoticed by you and yet Neteyam was confused on how you weren’t able to see through Lo’ak’s poor attempt at pushing you away because of how much he wanted you.

“He’s an idiot, but I promise you that–“

“Don’t…Don’t promise me something that might not happen,” you cut him off with a sharp intake of breath, your chest tightening and tears threatening to spill at any moment. You were growing tired of everyone reassuring you with words, only for Lo’ak to shatter any hope you’ve had that you two would make up from the nonexistent fight that you had.

“He thinks what he’s doing is the right thing, but it isn’t,” The eldest of the Sullys took it upon himself to wipe your tears away, thumbs caressing your cheeks in a delicate manner. “He is an idiot, but I want you to know that it’s paining him just as much,“

You scoffed at the words but never pulled away from the boy’s touch. “It pains him just as much? He’s the one who started it.”

“I know but–“

“Teyam,” your hand wraps around his wrist, and you gently pull it away from your face before holding his hand in your own. “It’s alright, I know you want to defend your brother and you have every right to do so but he hurt me, he’s causing me so much pain from a situation he created,”

“I’m not asking you to pick sides, but I’m also not going to let my pain get invalidated. I’m the one hurting here because he woke up on the wrong side of his hammock three weeks ago and decided not to utter a single word my way ever since.”

Neteyam could only sigh at your words. You were right, the situation was much more complicated than a simple disagreement between you two. Had you known the full story behind what was going on inside Lo’ak’s brain, maybe then it would feel fair to tell you that the boy was also in pain.

“Just do what feels less painful to you.” As if that was going to be easy, but the more you interacted with Lo’ak, the tighter your chest felt. You needed a break from the boy even if you knew that seeing him was enough to reassure you that he was doing okay.

This was the longest Lo’ak had ever sulked in a corner and everyone was starting to grow tired of it.

The boy was almost lifeless, barely engaging in any conversation with his family members. He ignored Tuk’s nagging and consistent request to play with her, brushed off Neteyam’s suggestion to go on a ride with their Ikrans and wouldn’t even talk back to Kiri and Spider.

He was unrecognizable to say the least.

Neytiri nudged her husband with a concerned look on her face, eyes silently begging him to do something about the boy who went from being the loudest to the most reserved.

Jake could only awkwardly shuffle in his spot before coughing to catch his children’s attention. Talking to his sons wasn’t his virtue, it felt easier to console his little girls but given how strange Lo’ak had been acting, it was finally time to have a heart to heart with his son.

“Son, let’s ride our Ikrans after dinner.”

Lo’ak didn’t even raise his head at the sentence, simply thinking that Jake wasn’t referring to him. It wasn’t until the silence had felt too long that Jake called again, this time making sure that he heard him.

“Son? Lo’ak?” said boy raised his head with a perplexed look, and Jake noticed how his food was basically untouched.

“Yes sir?”

“We’re riding our Ikrans after dinner.” Jake repeated, setting his plate to the side before nodding at Neytiri as a way of thanking her for the food.

“We?” the boy looked at his brother, unsure if he was hearing his father correctly.

“You and I, son.” Lo’ak grew nervous at this. He and his father weren’t on best terms most of the time given how their personalities clashed with one another, but he thought that giving it a try wouldn’t hurt anybody.

“Okay dad.”

After a poor attempt at finishing his food, Lo’ak finally decided to join his dad after hopping on his Ikran. He wasn’t entirely sure of what his father wanted to talk about but he hoped that it wouldn’t cause the two of them to start fighting as usual.

“You closed off on yourself,” Jake didn’t bother with trying to ease Lo’ak into the topic, he immediately pushed him inside. He could tell he caught his son off guard given the wide eyes and how his lips struggled to find the right words to say.

“And you’re not only hurting yourself but you’re also hurting people around you,” Jake wanted to see how far he could push his son before making him admit his obvious feelings for you, the one girl he and Neytiri were very sure that she was going to be their son’s future mate.

“I don’t have that many friends,” Lo’ak’s sarcasm could be sensed from miles away and Jake held back a sigh at how similar he and his son were. He hated that sometimes. seeing in his son a version of himself he was ready to bury.

“I’m glad that you’re acknowledging that (name) isn’t just a friend.” The eldest pushed his son a little further and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how nervous and awkward his son got.

“She is just a friend…”

“We’re definitely different when it comes to this,” Lo’ak raised his head at his father’s words, unsure of where he was going with this.

“I married your mom not long after I met her, didn’t have time for all this being in denial bullshit,”

“Mom wasn’t a childhood friend.”

“Yet I think if she was a childhood friend, it would’ve made me want to marry her even more.”

The beauty of growing up together, getting to tell the next generation that you’ve known who your soulmate was at a very young age is a privilege not a lot of people have, not when most Na’vi have their mates chosen for them. And Lo’ak was very much aware of that and yet he couldn’t help but think that no one would choose him, not when he was so… like himself.

“I just think…she can do better,” Sharing his biggest insecurity was challenging enough as it was, but doing so with his father felt rough on his heart strings. Lo’ak’s throat tightened up and suddenly he became hyperaware of his fast heartbeat and sweaty palms, wishing that he had chosen something else to say to save him from the discomfort he was feeling.

“Is that truly up to you to decide?” The boy blinked once then twice, trying to register the fact that pouring his heart out was easier than he anticipated. He couldn’t bring himself to formulate a sentence for a good ten seconds before he was looking away from Jake, the latter’s words finally getting to his head.

“Does it even matter if I let her decide?”

“Would you have wanted her to let you feel the same if roles were reversed?”

“Roles could never be reversed cause she isn’t a freak like me,” Lo’ak almost snapped back in response and he visibly tensed at how defensive he was getting.

“So you think she deserves better than some five fingered freak like yourself?” Jake was blunt as he responded, eyes boring into his son’s who could only nod in response, not catching onto the sarcasm lacing in his words.

“Seems like you don’t know her as well as you claim to do.” Jake dipped down with his Ikran and Lo’ak followed shortly after with his own companion, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the words coming out of his father’s mouth.

“Of course I do know her, she’s my best friend and I’m sure that she—“

“The reason why you like her so much is because she never cared about stuff like this. It’s been this way ever since you were a child, son.” Toruk Makto was now face to face with his son as their Ikrans came to a stop mid air. “For you to make her go through so much pain because you suddenly decided that she wanted to change her ways and morals is unfair in my opinion, both for her and yourself.”

“But to ruin the friendship—“

“Again, those are only assumptions you have made based off of pretty weak evidence—made up one since you didn’t even question her on whom has her attention or better yet, her heart.”

The picture was slowly coming together to Lo’ak now and the clearer it got, the more he realized just how badly he fucked up.

Three agonizing weeks of ignoring you, stopping himself from joining a conversation you were in and suspending any attempt you had thrown his way to hang out together, catch up and possibly ask him what was so wrong that he refused to talk to you.

Sure, it pained him so much but he knew how sensitive you were. In fact, he could tell from your big yellow eyes how deeply hurt you were everytime he rejected you, and Eywa, did it make his heart squeeze, almost shatter at the sight of tears brimming your vision.

Lo’ak knew he fucked up, and he could only pray to Eywa that he would be able to fix what could possibly cost him a friendship and perhaps his childhood sweetheart.

You had every right to be ignoring Lo’ak right now. That, he is totally aware of, and even knew that it was exactly what he deserved after ghosting you for no apparent reason.

But at this point, you were just torturing him.

Tonight, the Omaticaya decided that it was time to hold their weekly party at the end of the week, distressing and letting loose after a long week of hard work.

Those parties were fun, they were what everyone needed—what you needed most importantly and you weren’t going to deny it, you were looking forward to it even if it meant having to encounter Lo’ak since he was Toruk Makto’s son.

Things had started pretty well with everyone chatting and discussing thing such as how great of a leader Toruk Makto was, how they haven’t felt this safe in quite some time and that everything being under his control was something to be proud of as forest Na’vi.

And while Jake and Neytiri soaked in all the attention, the kids were doing their thing. Mostly chatting with their friends or in some cases, stalking some.

Lo’ak was aware of how creepy he looked just staring at you with an unwavering gaze but he was determined to have you lock eyes with him. If he wasn’t going to approach you, getting to see your eyes for the first time in a while would mean the world to him.

“You’re looking a bit menacing, brother.” Neteyam placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, staring in your direction as well with a small smile on his lips.

“Huh? Well, I guess it’s not menacing enough to have her look my way.” Lo’ak mumbled under his breath, earning a lighthearted chuckle from Neteyam who could only pat his shoulder before squeezing it.

“You don’t want to look menacing or creepy, you want to look apologetic.” Lo’ak glanced at Neteyam after hearing those words and he knew how right his brother was but how? how was he supposed to look more apologetic than he already feels?

“Just walk up to her and see what happens.” Yeah, easier said than done.

“I will tell you what will happen. I will go up there and make a fool of myself because one, I don’t really know what to tell her and two, she will ignore me either way and I absolutely deserve it after treating her like shit because of something she’s not even responsible of,”

Lo’ak was frustrated but he couldn’t exactly do anything about it or even let himself feel this frustration without guilt washing over him.

It must’ve been horrible for you. But enough of feeling bad for you, he knew that despite what could possibly happen, he still had to confront you one way or another.

“Good luck,” was all what Neteyam said before walking away to let his younger brother decide on what he was going to do.

Luck

“Shit, I’ll need plenty of that.” Lo’ak mumbled before heading towards you through the crowd.

You could see Lo’ak and Neteyam from the corner of your eyes, you weren’t blind or clueless. You knew the two were talking about you just based on their body language. How unsure Lo’ak seemed and how playful the older brother was being and despite the fact that you thought it was endearing, you were still very mad at Lo’ak, and rightfully so.

It took them a couple of minutes to finish their conversation before Lo’ak was walking towards you and in a state of panic, you let go of whatever was in your hand and started heading out of the crowd, to a more secluded area. Anything to get away from Lo’ak as soon as possible.

You didn’t dare to look back, footsteps fast and unfaltering as you walked deeper into the forest with Lo’ak right behind you. Maybe if you didn’t perceive him, he would magically disappear.

“If anything, you know I’m the fastest runner between you and I,” his voice was uncertain, as if he was testing waters while still half-chasing you and you completely ignored his words, very determined on getting him to get off your tail.

“Going deeper into the woods won’t make me lose sight of you,”

“Did your tail get prettier?” was he staring at your tail?

Lo’ak was taken aback when you abruptly came to a stop and whipped your head fast to look at him and he wishes he could take back every bad thing he’s done to you, he wishes he could undo the past few weeks but he can’t, and he certainly can’t erase the pain in your eyes, how utterly confused and broken you must be feeling now that he’s suddenly trying to talk to you again.

“Listen-“

“No, no- you will listen. Because clearly that’s not what you wanted to do for like a month.” Your index finger was almost in his face but he didn’t back away or flinch, he let you be as mad as you wanted to be.

“I didn’t do anything to deserve what you did to me. I was a good friend! I was patient and forgiving, I kept finding stupid excuses for your lame ass while you didn’t even try to hide the fact that you were openly ignoring me for whatever reason!”

Lo’ak could tell you weren’t breathing properly while talking, and he wanted to hold your face and get you to calm down but touching you seemed off the table right now.

“And you come back and tell me my tail looks prettier?”

“I was just-“

“I’m still talking.” Your stern voice made him seal his lips shut, but he couldn’t help how his heart leapt a little in his chest. He had to fight the smile that was forming on his lips because he really didn’t want you to think he wasn’t taking you seriously.

“I appreciate you telling me my tail looks prettier but that does not and will never compensate for how shitty you made me feel lately.” Your voice was less harsh and smaller. He could tell you were slowly letting the tough façade fall apart because you weren’t used to getting hurt this badly. It drained you so much having him hurt you like this, and it made Lo’ak drown deeper in the guilt.

“I know it won’t, but I promise it hurt me just as much.”

“Then why did you do it?” Eywa, he wishes he could tell you.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then we cant be friends again.” Your response was quick and dry. Lo’ak felt like he was quickly losing you the more he spoke and that absolutely terrified him.

“No, you don’t get it. If I tell you, I will lose you.”

“Is there anything to lose at this point?” Lo’ak was starting to realize how badly he fucked up the moment you said this.

“Wha- of course there is?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he stared down at you and for the first time, you weren’t glaring at him. Your eyes were slowly filling up with tears, breathing getting quicker by the second.

Lo’ak reached his hands towards your face to test the waters and when you didn’t flinch or pull away, just kept your eyes locked with his, he knew just how badly you needed to be held.

“Oh I’m so terrible, aren’t I?” He almost cooed at you, hands holding your face with his thumbs caressing your cheeks and your little nod before blinking some tears away.

“So… so terrible.” you nuzzled against his hand, a hiccup escaping your lips as you held back a sob.

“Eywa,” Lo’ak whispered, stepping a little closer to you so he could rest his forehead against yours. “You mean so much to me and it’s… terrifying.”

Your confusion only pushed him to continue, his nose brushing against yours and suddenly you were aware of how close—how intimate the position you were in. But you didn’t mind, your heart was racing yet you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away this time.

“If I mean so much to you, why hurt me?” your voice was small, almost too afraid to speak louder and ruin the moment.

“I thought hurting you would get you to hate me,” Lo’ak swallowed hard, eyes focused on your lips before staring right back at yours once again. “and you would realize that you deserve someone better than me.”

“And you think you have the right to choose for me?” your hands slowly moved up towards his shoulders and at first, he thought you were going to push him away. It wasn’t until he felt you press your body closer before wrapping your arms around his neck that he realized that you were doing the complete opposite.

“I chose you—Eywa chose you for me, and she is never wrong.” And you were right. As if your skin glowing in the dark wasn’t already beautiful, the forest decided to bless your moment even further.

Seeds of the sacred tree were floating all around you both, the pure spirits giving Lo’ak the reassurance and the tiny push he needed to finally close the distance between you two.

Your breath hitched when you felt his lips brush against yours, but you were growing impatient with the small amount of hesitance left in him.

“Promise me that you won’t hurt me again,” your words were hushed, breath quickening when you felt him pull you in closer by your hips.

“I promise.” the stars illuminated the sky and the night was threatening to get colder. But when Lo’ak was pulling you impossibly closer, your cheeks flushed with heat. His fingers traced the skin on your hipbone before digging in harshly, your sharp intake of breath making his eyes wander down to your lips once again.

“It’s unfair…“ your whisper caught him off guard and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before they rose high when your hands slid down to caress his arms, gently moving towards his chest to rest your hands there. You looked up at him through your lashes, and if Lo’ak wasn’t aware of his feelings for you, he would think you were trying to make him fall deeper in love with every bit of you.

“What is unfair?”

“That you’re taking so long to kiss me,” your hands gently grabbed his face, holding his jaw to tilt his head down towards you. “I see you, Lo’ak.”

You didn’t need for him to say it in return—he wasn’t exactly able to with his lips pressed against yours in dizzying manner. You never thought you could grow more nervous around Lo’ak yet he seemed to have a knack for surprising you everytime, especially with his hands gripping the back of your thighs to pull you up and wrap your legs around his waist.

“I see—I see you too,” when he pulled away, panting from the kiss and eyes glazed with what appeared to be a mixture of lust and admiration, you could only squeeze your legs around his waist with a small smile.

“Already so out of breath?” your lips brushed against his nose in an endearing manner, fingers tracing his cheek to take in every little detail that made him who he is—yours.

“You dont know what you do to me,” he slowly backed you up against a tree, your cheeks flushing when you realized just how intimate the position you were in.

“Maybe I would like to find out,” Your teasing, your playful tone and your eyes that were clearly so lost in his, were constant reminders of how special he felt around you.

He, who had the honor of being your one and only, could only pray that Eywa approved of his love and devotion for you.

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

#avatar: way of water #loak fluff #loak x you #loak x reader #avatar x reader #loak fanfiction #loak angst #loak headcanons #loak imagine #avatar loak #loak x y/n #moon's works

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 12 days

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ceilings pt3 - san

summary: pe teacher!san turned new dad!san. your family of three is growing. an engagement, a pregnancy, a wedding? that's a lot. good thing you and san can get through anything together.

word count: 9.8k

warnings: afab reader, inaccurate descriptions of pregnancy/labor (ive never done it before!)

note: this is the last part! thank you for reading and sharing such kind words about this series :') thank you thank you thank you.

masterlist / part one / part two

"baby, come on, we're gonna be late!" san calls from the kitchen. you groan, but he can't hear you. it's still the early stages of your pregnancy, but you feel like shit. you know you need to get up, you have to go to this appointment, but no part of you wants to move. so you don't. that leads to san bursting into the bedroom with your breakfast, saying, "paging mrs. choi!"

"why do you keep calling me that? we're not married yet," you mumble into your pillow. then, upon smelling the food san's holding in front of you, you scrunch your face up and suppress a gag. "move, i think i'm gonna be sick."

san steps out of the way as you sprint to the bathroom, trying to shut him out before you kneel just in time to hurl all the contents of your stomach into the toilet. you know it may not be sanitary, but you lay your head on the seat, catching your breath as san quietly joins you.

"san, i told you i don't want you to see me like this," you whisper, voice hoarse.

"too bad," he shakes his head. he sits on the edge of the tub, brushing your hair out of your face as he says, "i'm here now so i'm here for everything. even the puking bits."

"but it's embarrassing. and gross."

"it's nature," he shrugs while you start heaving again. "it happens."

"how late are we gonna be for the appointment?" you ask, looking back to find san watching you with concern in his eyes.

"not too late," he admits. "i woke you up early."

"you're evil."

"yeah but you love me," he smirks.

"not right now," you say as you hover over the toilet again. "seriously, can you go do something else?"

"nothing for me to do," he says. "vi's at school, kitchen is clean, laundry's done-"

"can you," you stop as you get sick again. "can you go throw those eggs away? i'm sorry san but just the smell-"

"they're gone," he says, kissing the back of your head as you take deep breaths to steady your stomach. he clears the food that he brought for you, packing some safer foods for you to snack on in the car. he also packs your vitamins and a ginger ale, because he knows you'll be fine in a few minutes. your morning sickness comes like clockwork, and goes away pretty quickly. it's just tough while you're going through it, so san is eager to make things easier for you if he can. he places your to go bag by the door, shuffling back to the bedroom to find you back in the bed. "y/n, now we're actually late."

"do i have to go to this appointment?" you whine. "you can go for me."

"we kinda need your equipment though, baby," he laughs. "come on, let's get dressed."

you roll out of bed then and into san's arms. he hugs you tight, kissing your forehead before waddling you into the closet. he hands you whatever is closest, taking your pajamas and tossing them into the laundry basket as you change. when you're done he gives you a once over and asks, "did you brush your teeth?"

"yes," you grumble. "but it made me sick again. so we'll have to get a new toothpaste on the way back from the doctor, i can't use this one anymore."

"got it," san nods, pulling you out of the closet and toward the door. "you good now? ready to go?"

"yep," you assure him. "let me just get something for the car-"

san holds up the bag he prepared earlier, smiling proudly as he says, "way ahead of you, love. now let's go see this baby!"

you're using the same doctor that delivered violet for this pregnancy, so you know what to expect. the first visit for this kid was just with a technician, so today will be san's first time meeting the doctor. at the other appointment, he got to see the ultrasound, even though the fetus was barely the size of a peanut on the screen, and he still cried. he's been so excited for this appointment because he has a lot of questions for the doctor, and they'll take blood today to find out the sex.

you thought about waiting, because that's what you did with violet, but san said he wants to know everything. you want him to enjoy this, getting to be a dad from the very beginning, so you're doing whatever he wants. he wants to know the sex, so you're doing that. he wants to be at every appointment, so he's there. he wants to see all the good and exciting parts of pregnancy and all the gross and scary parts too, so you're letting him. it's bringing you closer than you ever thought possible, and you can't believe you did this once already without san by your side to help you.

as he drives to the doctor, he goes through his questions with you, not wanting to sound like an ignorant dad in front of your doctor. he's worried about asking questions he should already know, so you're answering what you can and keeping track of which answers need a professional opinion.

"you know some of these you could just google," you tease. "no need to bother the doc with them."

"i'd rather hear it from someone i trust, not a stranger on the internet," san replies. "but there's one i'm afraid to ask, so i guess i'll google that."

"what is it?" you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

"can we still have sex?"

"you're joking."

"what! i want to know if it's bad for the baby!"

"i actually don't know," you think about it. "i know sex is encouraged to induce labor, but i'm not sure if it does anything else."

"i'll keep that in mind," san smirks, and you slap his arm as he pulls into the parking lot. he complains when you get out of the car without his help, but you remind him that you can still do things on your own. he keeps mumbling as you walk into the waiting room, waving as you greet the receptionist.

"well if it isn't my favorite parents," she smiles.

"i bet you say that to everyone," you roll your eyes, but she shakes her head.

"nope, you made the cutest kid i've ever seen," she says. "and you're both nice, so that gets you top spot."

"well i hope that works in our favor since we're so late today," san says sheepishly.

"no worries," the receptionist assures him. "it's a slow day, so you're all we've got this morning. i'll tell the doc you're here."

a nurse leads you to an exam room shortly after, and san starts firing some of his questions at her. they chat as you get situated in the chair, cursing at how uncomfortable you are. was your pregnancy with violet this miserable? or has it just been so long you forgot how bad it gets?

"y/n! it's so nice to see you again!" the doctor says cheerfully as she walks in. san stands off to the side as you catch up, but you keep an eye on him as you speak. the doc catches on and turns to him, smiling warmly as she asks, "is this the father i've heard so much about?"

"you told her about me?" san asks you, and you feel yourself blush.

"some of it was just medical," the doc answers for you. "but i could tell this one had some feelings she needed to address. i'm very happy to see you both here now."

"happy to be here," san smiles. "i've actually got some questions for you-"

"i'm sorry in advance," you tell her, and san shushes you.

"i've dealt with much worse," the doctor says. "ask away."

boy does he! san shoots off question after question as the doctor preps the machine and checks your vitals. when you lift your shirt for the ultrasound gel, she comments on your baby bump.

"you're showing a lot for just a few weeks," she notes. "when did you say you conceived?"

"pretty much the second time we had sex," you answer, and san balks. "what? she's seen my vagina. she can know about our sex life."

"it's part of the job," the doctor agrees. "it's not uncommon for a second pregnancy to speed some symptoms along, so that might be why you're showing so soon.

"is that a bad thing?" san asks, but she shakes her head.

"just some early growth, nothing wrong with that," she says as she starts the ultrasound. san takes your hand and squeezes softly, his palm sweaty from nerves and excitement. "but let's take a look at the little one to make sure."

"do you hear that?" you ask san. he's watching the screen intently, so it takes a second for your voice to register. he listens for a second and asks what you're talking about. "the heartbeat. that whooshing sound? that's the baby."

"really?" he looks at you eagerly. "that's the baby's heartbeat?"

"babies," the doctor says, and you nod in agreement.

"yeah, that's the baby's heart-"

"no, i mean babies, plural," she repeats. "there are two fetuses here."

"what?" you're shocked. you look at the screen and gasp, noticing the second blob immediately. "oh my god."

"two babies?" san whispers, gripping your hand so tightly it hurts. "there's two babies in there?"

"that's why you're showing so early," the doctor smiles as she notes a few things in your file. "but yes, you're having twins, y/n."

"oh my god," you repeat. san cups your chin, pulling your gaze from the ultrasound to his teary eyes.

"twins," he emphasizes. "two babies, y/n!"

"two babies," you nod, still surprised. "you get to have three after all."

"i love you so much," he whispers, kissing you quickly so he can go back to staring at the babies on the screen.

"do twins run in your family?" the doctor asks.

"maybe in mine?" san thinks out loud, and your head whips to look at him. "what?"

"that would've been nice to know!"

"would it have stopped you from sleeping with me?" san asks, and you shut up, because, no, it wouldn't have. but it would've been nice to know it was a possibility.

"since it's twins, this pregnancy might look a little different," the doctor starts to explain, and you try to listen but your mind is swimming. two babies. you're gonna have three kids. two babies plus violet. can you and san handle that? can you afford it? can your house even fit two babies? as you run through all these questions, san jots down notes on the pamphlets the doctor is handing him, explaining how the appointments will increase in frequency for the next bit of the pregnancy to monitor the twins' growth and your health. there's even more things you have to do now to make sure everything is safe, so san is planning his next grocery run in his head as you sit there stunned.

"y/n?" he finally calls your name. you turn to him dazed, and he can tell something's wrong. "you ok?"

"this is just a lot to take in," you say softly. "but i'm ok. i'm happy."

"are you ready for me to take your blood?" the doctor asks, and you nod. she explains that they'll call back tomorrow with your health updates, and in about a week with the sex of the babies. "what do you think you'll have?"

"two girls," san replies immediately.

"you like being a girl dad?" the doctor asks, and he nods eagerly. "y/n? what about you?"

"i want san to have a son," you reply. "but i can't let the boys outnumber me and vi, so i think one of each would be nice."

"i'd be happy with whatever, honestly," san says. "this is exciting."

"cool, because i'm terrified," you mumble, wiping the gel off of your stomach as the doctor wraps up.

"you'll be fine," she tells you. "you were like this with violet, and look how well you did. this pregnancy will be just as great."

"i'll remember that in the morning when i'm puking my guts out," you smile, and she laughs.

"let me get you a few more vitamins, and then you're good to go."

you and san took the day off work for the appointment, so after a quick grocery shop you're back home. you're already exhausted despite not doing much today, so san puts the groceries up while you lay down. you're in and out of sleep when he pads into the room, lays down behind you and scoops you into his arms.

"y/n," he whispers into your hair. "are you awake?"

"no."

"baby."

"my love. sh."

"but i want to ask you something." at that you roll over. he looks at you softly, brushing some hair out of your face. "how do you feel?"

"that's why you woke me up?" you pout, and he kisses you to make up for it.

"we're having twins," he says. the shock is finally hitting him, apparently. "that's a lot more work for you."

"for both of us," you reply. "good thing there's two of us, a baby for each."

"yeah, but at the doctor earlier you said you were scared," he continues. "and then she went on and on about all the things you need to be careful of..."

so this isn't san checking in on you, really. it's him admitting he's worried, but masking it by seeing how you feel about this change of plans. he does that a lot, tries to save face and be unafraid for you, but you need him to know he can be open with you about his feelings. he can get too caught up in providing for you and violet that he forgets to check on himself, so you'll do it for him.

"i'm scared, but good scared," you explain. "pregnancy is scary, because you never really know everything is good until you meet the kid. and don't even get me started on labor. the idea of doing that twice, back to back? that's gonna be awful. but i know it'll be ok, because i have you, and we have our family, our friends, so many people to support us. it'll be tough, sure, but we can do it," you assure him, cupping his face. "aren't you excited you'll get your family of five you've always wanted?"

"yeah," he admits shyly. "i'm really excited, it's just..."

"sannie, you can tell me. are you nervous?" he nods. "what are you nervous about?"

"am i gonna be a good dad?" he whispers so quietly you could barely hear it, and you're just inches away from him. you sit up as best you can, staring down at him in disbelief.

"how on earth could you think otherwise?" you ask. "look at how you are with violet."

"yeah, but she was a big kid when i met her," he whispers still. "i've worked with kids her age for years. i've never been around a baby, let alone two, for more than a couple hours."

"well good thing you have me, super mom, by your side," you joke, but san groans, pulling your hand from caressing his neck to hold it over his chest. you can feel his heart racing as you flatten your palm over his soft t shirt, and you trace shapes over it to try and calm him.

"i'm being serious, y/n."

"and i'm being serious when i say you'll be great with the babies. i raised one, i know what it takes, and i swear i'm not joking. you're already great at anticipating mine and violet's needs, and that's most of what having a baby is about. you're loving, and nurturing, and easy to hold onto for a few hours," he blushes at this, "and that's another big part of having a baby. they're super clingy."

"like you?" he teases, and you pinch him. "ah!"

"i know you'll be great with the babies because you are a kind, smart, caring person. what you don't know, you'll figure out, and i'll be right next to you to help whenever you need it, mr. choi," you add, and you feel san's skin warm at the nickname, but he frowns anyway. "what? you're not convinced?"

"no, i just thought about it, and when are we gonna have a wedding?" he wonders. "do we still want to wait until the babies come, or will we be too exhausted now that there's two of them?

"that's a good question," you frown too, nuzzling into your pillow as your grogginess takes over. "we'll have to think about that another day. you woke me up from a nap."

"go to sleep, baby," san says, pulling you onto his chest. "thank you for what you said."

"i meant it," you say softly. "you are so capable, san. two babies aren't gonna take you down." he giggles, and it jostles you so bad you wince. "what's so funny?"

"sorry," he shakes his head. "just..the way you phrased that. now i'm thinking about me fighting two really big babies."

"oh my god," you groan, pushing away from him as you lay your head back on your pillow. "good night. wake me up when you mature ten years."

jen brought violet home from school that afternoon, and wooyoung tagged along just because. secretly he liked playing house and wondering what it would be like when he's ready to have kids, but if he admitted to that he would never hear the end of it. plus, he's too immature to have his own kid. he taught violet a song about farts on the ride home, so he's happy in his role as fun uncle.

san, ever the dad, reprimands wooyoung (and violet a little too) for the song as you tell jen about the doctor's appointment. violet has run off to her room, so it's just the adults now. san has an arm draped over your shoulders with jen on your other side, and wooyoung is in his own world in the armchair. jen's listening to you explain the visit while you keep the sonogram pictures just out of her reach. once you've said all you want to say, you hand her the pictures and wait.

"aw!" she squeals. "what am i looking at?"

"well there's one baby," you say, pointing to the first blob. "and there's number two."

"what?" jen and wooyoung's head both snap toward you. "number two?!"

"man, how strong is your sperm?" wooyoung asks, moving to perch on the armrest next to jen so he can see the sonogram himself.

"you're having two babies?" jen asks. "two? as in two babies?"

"two babies," you nod.

"you guys have to be the most fertile people on earth," she shakes her head in disbelief. "how did you have sex twice and get knocked up each time?"

"they've had sex way more than twice," wooyoung scoffs, looking at san to confirm, "right?"

"shut up man."

"so wait," jen says, pulling your attention back. "what about the wedding?"

"it's on hold," you shrug.

"no," san butts in. "it's changing. but it's not on hold."

"you know what i meant baby," you wave him off.

"still didn't like it," he mumbles, and you grab his hand on your shoulder and kiss it in apology. as you pull away you yawn so big it brings tears to your eyes, and you slump back into the couch with a whine. "you didn't sleep enough?"

"no, i did," you grumble. "i was like this with violet, i could sleep all the time and never feel rested."

"well we're here now," jen sits up. "what can we do so you and san can rest?"

"really?" you're skeptical, only because wooyoung looks unsure of being volun-told to help out.

"really."

"uh, san?" you turn to him. "what haven't you done today?"

"you could make dinner," he smiles. "and wear violet out a little more. she told me someone gave her a bunch of candy during dismissal?" he says this looking at jen, who pretends not to notice.

"so i'll be on violet duty, and you cook dinner?" she says to wooyoung, who reluctantly agrees. "great, get to it pal."

"what kinda food do you have?" wooyoung asks. "or are you craving anything?"

"we bought stuff for burgers this morning," san replies, following wooyoung into the kitchen despite this being time for him to rest too. "cook y/n's until there's no pink left, and no cheese-"

as you get further into the pregnancy, you're getting more and more used to the idea of twins. you're glad you ended up with two babies, because now san gets the full experience of having a kid. with one baby, you could use all of violet's hand-me-downs. with two, you need to buy a second set of everything, so san is going trigger happy with the shopping sprees. by the end of the first trimester, you're pretty sure san has bought two of everything from the baby store by your house, and you even think he's got a salesperson on speed dial.

he's late getting back from work one day, and you immediately know where he went. you're not surprised when he comes home, bags hanging from his hands with violet skipping behind him. she's got two baby dolls in her arms, and she slides into the kitchen to show you.

"mommy! look! i'm like you!" she beams. "i'm practicing holding two babies, daddy got me new dolls at the store, and some pretend diapers so i can practice changing them, and he got these cool walkie-talkies for their room so me and the babies can tell secrets..." she trails off as she goes to her room to get the dolls settled with the rest of her toys, leaving you staring at a sheepish san with a hand on your hip. you're totally showing now, the baby belly so big you've just given up on what to wear. you've got an old sweatshirt on, one of san's from college, but even that can't cover the bump. your stomach peeks out, and san's hands rub soothingly over it as he gets closer.

"they're not walkie-talkies, they're baby monitors," san says. "and i got the dolls because she looked pretty bummed at all the baby stuff i was buying. i felt like she needed to know some things are still about her."

"good call," you nod, giving him a kiss. "but did we need more baby stuff?"

"we needed the monitors," he pouts. "the ones you had from vi's baby days were so old i had to crank them to turn them on."

"shut up."

"and i figured we could always use more diapers," he concludes. "so that's why there's a lot of bags."

"and vi's two babies?" you ask, smoothing out a wrinkle in his shirt.

"i blame you for that," he points in your face, and you nip at his finger. "she looks up to you so much, she wouldn't leave without getting 'twims like mommy.' how could i say no to that?"

"that is pretty sweet," you sigh. "you hungry? i made dinner."

"yeah, let me just put this stuff in the twin's room," he says, kissing your cheek before he steps away. "i'll get violet too."

after dinner, you and violet play with her new baby dolls while san figures out the baby monitors. violet is so excited to be a big sister, and you love seeing her practice with the dolls. she's caring like san, cooing at the babies the same way san coos at violet. she's asking great questions too, wondering how she can help when the babies come. you tell her about diapers, feeding, and cleaning up toys, and she listens intently.

"you know what you can do now though?" you ask. she shakes her head, so you scoot closer to her and hold her hands as you go on. "you can talk to the babies. they can hear everything we say, so it's nice to say hi, tell them who you are, and just let them hear your voice."

"they can hear us?" she looks confused. "how?"

"i don't know, bug," you laugh, "but they can. i talked to you all the time when you were in my belly, and when you were born as soon as i said something you started looking for me. you recognized my voice, because you could hear me in here. so do you wanna try talking to the twins?"

"ok," she says, leaning down to cup her hands over your belly. she talks into her hands, and the vibrations makes you giggle. "hi babies!"

"tell them your name," you encourage her.

"i'm violet, your big sister," she says, then looks up at you. "what now?"

"that can be all," you shrug. "you can talk to them more when you have something else to say."

"ok!" she looks satisfied, and you catch movement from the corner of your eye. san is there, watching proudly.

"what are my favorite girls up to?" he asks.

"talking to the babies," you reply. "you wanna say something?"

"maybe later," he smiles. "it's somebody's bedtime."

"no!" violet whines.

"come on baby, let's get ready for bed," you say as you try to stand. you can't, so san rushes to help you up. "did you get the monitors set up?"

"yeah, it was easy," he shrugs. "you got bath time or you need my help?"

"i'll do the bath if you get the bedtime story," you reply. "i've got about ten minutes of energy left in me."

once violet is all clean and in her pjs, you give her a kiss goodnight and head back to your room. meanwhile, san sits down for what will most likely turn into about an hour's worth of bedtime stories, so you start to doze off as you wait for him to finish up. you faintly hear him come into the room, the sound of the shower waking you up. you roll over and see one of the baby monitors already on the nightstand, and you watch it for a moment, remembering the days of baby vi and looking forward to the new babies. you think you're imagining it at first, but you definitely see movement on the screen. you look at it scared, thinking irrationally that it might be a ghost. but you see tiny little violet standing there with her baby dolls in her arms. you turn the volume up to get a better idea of what's happening.

"what are you doing up, baby?" san asks, a towel around his waist as he steps out of the bathroom. you shush him, and he crawls onto the bed to see what you're looking at. he hooks his chin over your shoulder, humming when he realizes what he's looking at. that's when you both hear her.

"hi babies, it's me again," violet whispers. "i'm not supposed to be awake so i gotta talk fast. but i'm really excited to meet you. you're gonna love mommy and daddy too. they're really nice."

"i think i'm gonna cry," you whisper.

"i'm already there," san sniffles, rubbing his nose into your shoulder.

"gross!" you shriek, and he hushes you quickly.

"stop! she might hear you!"

"oh, look, she's doing something," you bring the screen closer, and you see violet place a baby doll in each crib.

"good night babies!" she whispers, shuffling out of the room and back to hers. you and san laugh when you hear her accidentally slam her door shut, and you sit in silence for a minute as you think about what you just watched.

"hey," san whispers, and you twist to meet his eyes. "i love our little family."

"me too," you whisper back.

when your doctor called a few weeks ago with the sex of the twins, you got an idea. you knew your friends would be throwing you a baby shower, so you thought it would be fun for everyone to find out together. you had your doctor email the results to jen, who insisted she wouldn't be able to keep the secret that long, but so far she and wooyoung haven't blabbed (because you know she told him as soon as she knew). they, along with some of your friends from college, have been planning the shower for a couple weeks now, but no one will tell you anything about it. you almost think they're not gonna have it, until san wakes up one weekend to find half of the people he knows just sitting in his living room.

"what the hell?" he asks groggily, finding wooyoung across the room. "you broke into my house?"

"jen has a key," woooyung replies, but that still doesn't explain the situation.

"what-why? why are you all here?" san looks around, suddenly glad he put more clothes on before leaving the bedroom.

"surprise?" jen says, appearing from the kitchen. "we wanted to throw you a surprise shower."

"but we knew about it already," san says as he wipes his eyes. "so it was never a surprise."

"exactly! we made it one!"

"by breaking into my house," san yawns. "so we're doing this now?"

"if that's ok?" jen says. "i talked to y/n about it and she said it was fine."

"oh i'm the only one who didn't know about it then."

"y/n knew it was happening today, she just didn't know when," jen points out.

"fine," san yawns again. "i'll go get her. but she's grumpy in the morning, so beware."

"tell her there's donuts from her favorite place, and i got her a tea latte she told me she likes," jen reports. "and there's other stuff from the diner you go to all the time."

"got it," san nods sleepily, shuffling back into the bedroom. he falls down onto the bed, jostling you awake. "baby. there's people in our house."

"what?"

"jen. she let a bunch of people into our house."

"....what?"

"we have to get up," san says as he rolls himself on top of you, holding himself up so he doesn't squish you or the babies. "now, baby."

"no. 'm tired."

"there's food."

"not hungry," you mumble, pulling san down so you can press your cheek to his. it leaves him in an awkward spot, wanting to cuddle you but not wanting to mess with your precious cargo.

"the sooner we go out there, the sooner they'll leave," san whispers into your ear.

"stop it, that's turning me on."

"oh?" san sits up with a smirk. "tell me more."

"no, help me up," you grumble. with a lot of effort, san gets you out of bed and helps you get dressed. against your protests, he insists on something that'll cover the bump at least while there are guests in the house. you do the same for him, finding the sweatshirt violet gave him that says 'i'm a rad dad' or something lame like that. san wears it with pride as he guides you back out to the party, friends you haven't seen in years stopping you for hugs or to uncomfortably touch your stomach. san keeps a protective eye on you while he looks around for violet, but he can't find her. where is that kid?

"there you are!" jen finds you, pulling you and san into a quick hug. "what took you so long? you knew we were coming."

"somebody didn't want to get up," san tattles.

"i am growing two humans inside of me," you state clearly. "sorry i needed the rest."

"whatever, come on," jen drags you to the kitchen. "we have breakfast."

"where's our kid?" you ask san, and he shrugs. "oh good, cool, house full of people and we don't know-"

"she's outside, crabby," jen cuts you off. "she and the other kids are helping me with some of the games. wooyoung went out there to supervise."

"but who's watching wooyoung?" san teases.

"violet," you and jen reply. she hands you a plate of food so full you're afraid it'll crack beneath the weight, but you've finally gotten over your morning sickness. this might be the first real breakfast you've eaten in months.

"bless you for this," you tell her. "thank you for throwing the shower."

"thanks for letting me have it at your house without you really knowing," she replies. "it won't be long, though, if you're not feeling up to a bunch of activity. mostly everyone has eaten, and the kids are almost done with the surprise outside. presents are in the babies' room, and everyone who brought diapers has already put them in your hall closet."

"can we do this every other month?" you ask through a mouthful of food. you watch san take a bite out of a pink frosted donut and turn to jen so fast it makes her jump.

"what's wrong with you?"

"the pink donuts," you point out. "it's two girls, isn't it?"

"what? no, you just like strawberry donuts, you weirdo," jen replies. "we'll do the boy or girl thing outside."

"did you get one of those baseballs that i can hit with the dust inside? i always wanted to do that," san says excitedly.

"that would've been nice to know earlier," jen says.

"eh, next kid then," san jokes.

once you're sufficiently stuffed, an excited violet sneaks in from the backyard and whispers something to jen. you see them across the room, and then jen calls everyone's attention. she says everyone but you and san can go outside, and you watch as they all trickle into the yard. there's sounds of surprise, some cheers, and even one squeal. you and san are confused, but violet and jen can't keep the smiles off their faces. you approach violet, bending down as best you can, and pinch her nose.

"you're keeping a secret again, aren't you?" you ask her, and she replies by shaking her head so hard her ponytail falls out. you help her fix it as jen explains the next part of the shower.

"so we've set up some games outside," she says. "and some blue or pink decorations. you'll be able to know as soon as you go out there, so you need to let me and vi walk out first, then i'll call for you to follow. got it?"

"i don't like when you go into teacher mode," you mumble.

"you asked for this," she replies. "am i understood?"

"yeah."

"good," she smiles and grabs violet's hand. they walk out together, keeping the door pulled as best they can to stop your prying eyes. you're left alone with san long enough to lace your fingers with his, squeezing his hand tightly before asking him, "you nervous?"

"no," he shakes his head. "i am so, so excited."

"come out!" you hear jen yell. you look to san, your free hand on the door, and he gives you an encouraging nod. you pull the door open but shut your eyes, and you walk into the backyard with san by your side. you only open your eyes when you hear a choked cry from san, and you understand why when you open your eyes.

you see your friends, your family, your beautiful daughter, surrounded by what seems like thousands of streamers. pink streamers. and blue, too.

"a boy and a girl," you turn to san, blinking away tears.

"just like you said. how did you know?" he asks in disbelief.

"it felt right," you reply. san's hands are rubbing over your stomach, and you feel something. "whoa."

"what was that?" san asks, his excitement only growing. "was that a kick?"

"baby girl or baby boy was saying hey," you nod, lifting your shirt regardless of the people around you so you and san can each place a hand over the babies. you feel a little kick beneath your hand followed by another near san, and you jump a little bit. "they're kicking! did you feel that?"

"oh my god," san breathes out. "i can't believe it. we're gonna have two babies."

"two babies that like to party, apparently," you comment, noticing that they haven't stopped wiggling since someone turned some music on. "they're gonna be trouble."

"they'll be perfect," san shakes his head, a sweet look in his eyes. "a boy and a girl! this couldn't be more perfect."

the twins are due any day now, and while you're about to burst because of the babies, san is gonna burst because of excitement. he was attentive before, but damn. now that your due date is looming, he's texting you every hour asking some variation of "are they here yet?"

your due date is actually two days from now, on wednesday, but san convinced you to start your maternity leave today. you've been trying to take a nap for the past hour, but you can't get comfortable enough. you wonder briefly if it's because san's not laying with you, but you don't think about that for too long. you get so uncomfy that you just give up, huffing your way to the living room so you can at least watch tv. as soon as you sit down, your phone starts to ring. it's san, calling on his lunch break.

"hey baby," he chirps when you answer. "how ya feelin?"

"like i'm nine months pregnant with twins."

"did you eat lunch yet? you sound hangry."

"no, i'm feeling nauseous again," you mumble as you move around on the couch. "i thought i was gonna get sick after my breakfast, so i'm not eating for a while to be safe."

"is that good for you and the babies, though?" he asks. "maybe you feel nauseous because you haven't eaten. the twins are basically sucking your life force right now, so you need more than a pop tart for breakfast."

"how did you know-"

"you want me to order something for you?" he asks, but you shake your head even though he can't see.

"no, i'll make something," you reply. "i've got all this anxious energy waiting for the babies to come, doing something with my hands will help."

"don't overdo it though, baby," san warns. "me and vi will be home early today, remember? so leave your dishes for us."

"why are you leaving early?"

"teacher conferences," san answers. "i told you like three times this morning."

"i was asleep, babe."

"oh, well, we'll be home early," he chuckles. "it'll be like that for the next two days."

"great, so you can hover over me even more," you pretend to groan, but san can hear the smile through your words.

"aren't you lucky?" he teases. "ok, well i gotta go, tell the babies i love em."

"oh! that reminds me!" you almost shout. "i thought of a name!"

"really?" san smiles. "for the boy or for the girl?"

"not telling, you'll have to wait till you come home," you taunt him. "see you soon my love."

over dinner, you discuss potential baby names. you and san are in agreement that the boy should be named oliver, but you can't settle on a girl name to save your life.

"no, none of those will be cute with oliver," you shake your head as san reads off a list of baby names. violet sits to your side, silently munching on her dinner, but she looks deep in thought.

"yeah, but if we call him oli," san starts again, and you groan.

"babe, that's cute for a little kid, but i don't want our son to be a grown man still introducing himself with a nickname," you insist. "we need a name that sounds good with oli and with oliver."

"then you look," san says, passing the phone to you. "but i stand by my choice."

"these are pretty," you point to a few on the list, but san scrunches his nose. "what's wrong with them?"

"i didn't know you were giving birth to a grandma," san jokes, and you reach over the table and pinch him. "ouch!"

"what about ivy?" violet asks, and in the midst of your bickering with san you almost miss her little voice. "ivy and oli sounds good, but so does ivy and oliver."

"i love it, bug," san smiles brightly at her. he looks to you for your opinion, but he frowns when he sees you crying. "what's wrong?"

"it's perfect," you blubber out, waving him off as he tries to comfort you. "i'm fine. i'm hormonal."

"but you like the name?" san asks, and you nod as you blow your nose. "vi, how'd you come up with ivy?"

"it's everywhere at the park," she shrugs. "we went on a nature walk today, and i saw the place where we met mommy with the bench and the violets."

"when you proposed," you say quietly. "there was ivy in the clearing when you proposed."

"that's it then," san smiles. "the twins will be named ivy and oliver."

"now we all have v's in our names!" violet cheers, but you and san look confused.

"mommy and daddy don't," you point out.

"this isn't for you, it's just for the kids," violet shakes her head, and you share a look with san like you know you've gotten yourselves into trouble. imagine two more violets running around, how are you gonna manage the sass?

"well then, time for the kids to go to bed," san says, looking at you and vi. "that includes you, mama. babies need sleep."

"but i'm comfortable," you groan. "i don't wanna move yet."

"i'll help you," san leaps into action, wrapping his arm around you as he helps you stand while violet watches on.

"ew, mommy, did you pee your pants?" she giggles, pointing to your seat. you and san turn to see what she's talking about, and you feel the wind get knocked out of you as you realize what this means.

"oh shit," you breathe out, turning to san. "my water broke. i'm having the babies."

san precariously gets you and violet to the hospital where jen meets you shortly after. she's prepared to hang with violet in the waiting room or take her back home if this takes too long, but violet's insisting that she wants to stay the whole time.

"i don't wanna go home," she pouts after you tell her the plan. "i can't miss the babies!"

"she's right," jen says, "she can't miss the babies."

"this might take a while, bug," san tells her, but violet shakes her head. he looks to jen next and asks, "are you cool to stay the night? i can call my sister if-"

"if violet's staying, i'm staying," jen says with finality. "i brought blankets, she and i can share."

"knock knock!" your doctor appears at the door. "are we ready for the first check in?"

"we'll be in the waiting room," jen ushers violet out while san moves next to the bed and reaches for your hand. he holds onto it tightly as the doctor goes through the motions of checking everything. when she finishes she looks at you both and smiles.

"well, everything looks good so far, i'll be back in a little bit to see how you're doing," your doctor says. "if you need me, just hit the call button, but i think you're in good hands."

"i am," you look to san. once the doctor leaves, you cup his face and bring him down for a kiss. "how ya feelin', dad?"

"i'm freaking out," he whispers back. "how are you not freaking out?"

"i've done this before," you shrug. "i know it's not that bad."

"but i don't!" san yelps. "you're about to do something that should be physically impossible! then we're gonna have two babies! three kids that we're responsible for! what are we gonna do?"

"san, look at me." he stops and leans his forehead against yours. "it's gonna be fine. freak out, don't freak out, whatever, but all you gotta do is stay by my side and watch the birth of your twins. all the stuff after, we'll figure it out together. yeah?"

"ok," he whispers.

"you're still freaking out, aren't you?"

"no."

"do you want something to do?" you ask. "something to help distract you?"

"please."

"help me get to the bathroom," you whine, holding your arms out. that gets a smile out of him, and he leaps into action. he spends the next few hours waiting on you hand and foot, trying to keep his mind occupied while you wait for the babies. when the doctor finally says it's time, he does what you asked him to and stays by your side, ready to watch something magical happen.

despite having two babies, labor this time around is so much easier. you know it's all because of san. aside from waiting on your every need, just his presence is making this experience better. you can't believe you did this without him the first time. he's invested in every second, taking in every moment like he's never seen anything so spectacular. when the doctor says it's time for you to start pushing, you don't think you've ever seen him so happy. san stays by your side, holding a leg in place as you push. it's hell, but you make it through. it feels like forever, but before you know it, there's a baby about to come into the world.

"dad, you might want to watch this part," the doctor calls to san. he joins her, watching as the first baby is born. there are tears in his eyes as you hear the cries of a little baby, and you watch as they lift the squirming mess into the air.

"a girl," san breathes out. "our baby girl."

"hey ivy," you say softly, out of breath and voice hoarse. her little cries stop for a second, and you call her name again. she seems soothed by it, by your voice, so you keep talking to her as the nurses clean her up. it gives you a chance to breathe, to rest, and san rejoins you while keeping a stern eye on anyone touching his baby. they hand her to you first, and you hold her warmth close to your chest. san's hand cups her head before kissing it.

"hi ivy," he whispers. "i'm your dad."

"that's the annoying guy who sang to you every night," you whisper to the little baby, and san rolls his eyes.

"mommy liked it, don't listen to her," he whispers back. you could keep going, but the doctor's voice calls your attention.

"mom, are you ready to push again?" she asks, and you shake your head.

"one more minute," you whine, and she laughs.

"you know it doesn't work like that," she smiles. "you still have to meet your son."

"i'll take ivy," san says, scooping her tiny form into his big arms. he cradles her softly with so much love in his eyes. a nurse offers to take her, but he shakes his head vehemently. he hoists her into one arm and resets himself next to you, his strong arm holding your leg in place as the doctor instructs you to push again. soon you're holding your son, san next to you holding your daughter. the doctor and nurses have left to give you some time, but you jolt up in concern. san looks at you, scared, and asks, "what?! what's wrong? are you hurt?"

"where's violet? she needs to see the babies before they go to the nursery," you say, and immediately san is sliding ivy into your grasp. he runs into the waiting room, slowing his steps as he approaches jen and violet's sleeping forms. he kneels down in front of violet, stroking her hair softly to wake her up. she peeks an eye open, an eager look on her face when she sees her dad smiling in front of her.

"babies?" she asks, and all san has to do is nod before violet shoots out of her seat, bouncing in place as san takes her hand and leads you to your room.

"hey big sister," you greet her quietly. "c'mere." you scoot over in your bed, and san helps lift her into place. she leans over you with wonder in her eyes, her little hands clasped beneath her chin like she wants to touch them but is too afraid. "who do you wanna hold first?"

"ivy," she replies, then shakes her head. "no, oliver. no, both of them!"

"if you want to hold them both, then let daddy help you ok?" you ask her, and san lifts violet into his lap so he can sit next to you. he shows violet how to hold a baby by lifting oli into his arm, then passes him to violet. once she's got a good hold on her brother, san uses his legs to kind of cup violet in his grasp so she has enough support to hold ivy too. with the twins in her arms, she looks so proud. you and san watch her with stars in your eyes until violet's face screws up and you ask what's wrong.

"i think oli just farted on me," she scowls. "take him back."

"sugar, you're gonna have a hard time with the babies if you're grossed out by a little fart," you tell her.

"it wasn't little, it rumbled-"

"here, i'll take him," san laughs. he holds oliver while violet coos over ivy, and with your family happily by your side you slowly start to doze off. san notices when he hears you softly snoring, and he helps violet get up so they can place the babies in their cradles. san tells violet that the doctor needs to take the babies for a little bit, and he can take violet back out to the waiting room to go back to sleep if she wants.

"but i wanna stay with mommy," she pouts, looking just like you. it hits him then that while he's got two new babies, his first baby is growing up.

"alright," he concedes quickly, the exhaustion hitting him too. "you can get into bed with mommy. i'll go get the nurses so they can check on the babies."

when san comes back into the room, the emotions of the day hit him hard. he's got his family, finally. the babies are here, and his other babies are sound asleep, violet's little arms hugged tight around your neck. he walks around the bed, placing a kiss on violet's forehead and then yours. when he pulls back, he sees you staring at him, and he coos, "baby, you should be asleep."

"the boa constrictor woke me up," you joke, pointing to violet. "what are you doing?" you ask as you watch san settle in the uncomfortable hospital chair by your bed.

"i'm figuring out how to lay down," he answers, shuffling around, but you make a grabby hand for him. "baby, we can't all fit in that bed."

"yes we can," you say, holding onto violet and scooting to the far side of the bed. "see? san sized spot right here."

"you sure we'll be able to sleep like this?" he asks as he settles next to you anyway, your head finding its spot on his shoulder as you close your eyes.

"i could sleep on a bed of rocks as long as you're next to me," you mumble. "but if you're really uncomfortable-"

"no," san cuts you off, a blush warming his cheeks. "i'm good."

"good," you reply with a tired smile. "i love you, san."

"i love you more, y/n," he whispers into your hair, placing a kiss to the top of your head. "thank you for today. for our kids."

"thanks for having super sperm," you tease, and san pinches your hip in response.

"go to sleep, crazy lady."

life with san and your babies is bliss. yes, it's loud, it's exhausting, and your house is a mess, but you wouldn't have it any other way. san and violet love doting on the babies, and you love seeing your family so complete. every day though, san reminds you that it won't really be complete until you're married. sure, you've got the ring, but san keeps reminding you that there's a wedding to be planned. but with the babies, violet, your jobs, how are you supposed to add a wedding to all that?

you're trying to multitask, feeding the babies as you try to look at wedding venues on your phone. you've got oli on your chest, your shirt discarded beside you. you're at home, who cares if your tits are out? you've found a venue you like, so you're about to call for san when you look up to see him staring at you from the doorway.

"what are you doing?" you squint at him. "how long have you been standing there?"

"few minutes," he replies, staring at your chest.

"come on, stop," you blush. "you're embarrassing."

"and you're still hot," he finally pulls himself out of his trance. "need me to hold a baby? or a boob?"

"no, come look at this," you hand him your phone. "a venue for the wedding?"

"i like it," he nods. "is it nice enough though?"

"san, my love," you chuckle. "we can't get married in a castle."

"but you deserve it," he frowns, scrolling through the pictures more. "or maybe we make it into a trip? get married in the mountains?"

"or what if we elope and get it over with?" you groan, pulling oliver over your shoulder to burp him.

"get it over with?" san looks at you with concern in his eyes. he joins you on the bed, leaning over ivy to play with her hands as he continues. "i know we both want to get married as soon as possible, but i want you to have your dream wedding. when you were younger, what did you want your wedding to look like?"

"well if we're going by what i wanted as a kid, i'd be marrying prince eric from the little mermaid," you tease.

"is that why you always put that on for violet?" he looks back at you with fake hurt in his eyes.

"can we switch babies?" you ask. "ivy hasn't been fed yet."

"am i after her?" san jokes, and you kick him. "here you go," he says as he passes ivy to you. he takes oliver and starts bouncing him, getting happy giggles from your bundle of joy.

"don't shake him so hard he pukes," you warn san. "i don't want baby vomit on our bed."

"violet asked if she could sleep in the twin's room tonight, by the way," san looks at you. "she's obsessed with them."

"what did you tell her?"

"that the babies wake up a lot, so if she's in there she won't get any sleep," san explained. "but then she said she'd be just like us, so."

"what if we let her sleep in our room?" you offer.

"what about our alone time?" san pouts. "i had plans for tonight."

"what's gotten into you?" you laugh. "you're hornier than usual today."

"sorry if i wanna love on my wife," san mumbles.

"still not your wife, baby," you say as ivy finishes up. "since you don't wanna elope, we gotta wait."

"when you say elope, what do you have in mind? we run away in the middle of the night and get hitched?"

"kinda," you shrug. "that, or we go to the courthouse. we can get married now, have the wedding later."

"i'll think about it," san says. "but no prince eric at either one."

that night, you and san let violet sleep in your room. she lays cocooned between you both, clinging to the blankets as you and san take turns to check on the twins. it's the best sleep you've had in weeks, and you wake up to find san staring at you from across the bed. he winks when he catches you awake, that mischievous glint in his eyes that you love so much.

"what?" you ask. "is my bedhead bad or something?"

"no," he shakes his head. "i want to marry you today."

"what?" you ask again, sitting up. "you're crazy."

"you're the one that wanted to do it now!" san whines. "what made you change your mind?"

"what made you change your mind?" you ask. "i thought you wanted a wedding."

"i want to be married to you," san replies. "don't care how. i just want it to be soon. now. today."

"today?" you confirm, and san nods. "well, let's get the babies. and jen. and wooyoung! they can be our witnesses."

"why are you guys talking so much," violet mumbles between you. "it's early."

"vi, wake up," you tussle her hair and she groans.

"bug, we're getting married today," san whispers to her, and her eyes snap open.

"FINALLY!" she shouts, and you both laugh. "mommy, what dress are you wearing?"

that afternoon, you married the love of your life. it took you long enough, right? it was years in the making, but it didn't come a moment too soon. as you stood there, one baby in your arms, another wrapped in san's, with your beautiful daughter standing between you, you knew this was the wedding meant for you. you and san have created a life together that you've both always dreamed of. you wouldn't want it any other way.

as you leave the courthouse, you can't stop smiling. jen and wooyoung walk ahead of you, violet standing between them as she blabbers on about something. you and san are holding a baby each, your free hands intertwined. he looks at you smiling, a question on his lips.

"what next, mrs. choi?" he asks, and you shrug.

"whatever you want, mr. choi," you reply. "we've got nothing but time."

#choi san #san #ateez #choi san fic #choi san imagine #choi san fluff #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #san imagine #san fanfic #san fluff #san one shot #choi san one shot

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ohtobeleah · 4 months

Text

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Eight: [Oh, Honeybee]

Summary: Jake can’t accept why you’d keep such a life-threatening situation a secret and you can’t accept why he suddenly seems to care.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.

Word Count: 4K

Author Note: Smaller chapter, but still the same level of pain. Let me know what y’all think about the confrontation of it all.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“The fuck?” Bradley Bradshaw hated the festive season. He wasn't a Christmas guy. He didn't have an awful lot of family to celebrate with over the consumerist holiday that was shoved down your throat before mid November. He just wasn't the kinda guy who wanted to get involved in the festivities.

“Who's calling you at ten at night?” Natasha Trace would probably end up regretting her decision to sleep with her co-worker and friend, but the drunken antics she and Rooster had gotten up to earlier in the afternoon ended up with a trip back to his house.

“Its Hangman–” Bradley answered the naked woman beside him as he sat up in the bed he truly never should have brought her back to. He knew Phoenix would end up regretting her decision to sleep with him. A pity fuck they’d both end up calling it. “Hello?”

“Are you busy?” Jake asked as he continued to watch you sleep. It had been a few hours since he got to the hospital and about two since he told your mother to go home for some much deserved rest.

Bradley looked over his shoulder to see Phoenix rolling over, her chest laid flat against the mattress that smelled so much of Bradley. He sighed, peeled the covers up from over his legs and swung them over the side.

“Nah, what’s up? Everything good?” The pair hadn’t always been on good terms, but ever since Jake had ultimately risked his own life to save Roosters, the two had been able to put their differences aside and let bygones be bygones.

“I don’t think I’m coming back after Christmas.” Jake started as he let his head lean against the far too uncomfortable hospital chair he’d been sitting in for the better half of four hours. “Somethings’ happened and I dunno what I’m gonna do man.” It was the tone Jake was using that made Bradley frown as he slipped into his sweats.

“Something happen to one of the kids, man?” Rooster has never heard Jake sound so defeated before. But as he padded down the hall Rooster had to stop in his tracks as Jake explained your current situation. He read the notes right from your chart, from the type of cancer to the stroke you had, how he tried to tuck your hair behind your ear and it fell from your scalp. How he’d tried to win you back, how you’d slept together, how you told him you still loved him yet thought divorce was the best way to go about things. Jake emptied his heart on Bradley sleeve and Bradley didn’t know how to process the pain and anguish Jake was obviously feeling.

“Are you at the hospital right now? With Y/n?”

“Yeah—yeah I just sent Maz, Y/n’s mum home to rest and shit.” Jake ran his hand across his face as he watched the IV bag containing your sedative get smaller and smaller. He wasn’t sure how you were going to react when you woke up and saw he was here. “I’ll probably go between here and her house, the kids are at mum's place and I can’t imagine what they’re thinking knowing that we’re both not there.”

“I could uh—“ Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t a Christmas guy, but he was a family first person. “I could fly out? Maybe get the kids from your mum's house and get them back to Rhode Island? I’m not doing anything this Christmas so I’ve got time.”

“Bradshaw,” Jake nearly sobbed. “I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.”

“It’s nothing, really, you’re one guy man, stay with your wife, or ex wife? I don’t really wanna get into your business but just text me the details when you can and I’ll organise your kids.”

“I’ll text you my sister's number.” Jake replied. “She’ll help you out.” There was no real reason to argue, Jake knew that once Rooster had his mind set on something he was gonna do it.

“No worries, I’m uh—I don’t even know what to say man, I’m so sorry, no one deserves to go through this.” It hit Rooster too close to home, his mother died when he was seventeen from Breast Cancer very similar to yours. It took her quicker than doctors had ever anticipated.

He just hopes you wouldn’t meet the same untimely fate.

“Anything man, anything you need, I'm there.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Time seemed more like an artificial construct as Jake watched Lydia disconnect the line that had been slowly feeding your body with a moderate range sedative. The young nurse looked guilty as she tried to avoid eye contact with the man she had accidentally told private patient information to.

“She’ll slowly start to wake up over the next hour now that she isn’t slowly taking on the sedative.” Lydia explained. “She might be quite irritable and loopy but I’ll have her surgeon come by for assessment once she’s up.”

“When I was about your age I accidentally hit one of my commanding officers' car while pulling out of the car park at the Naval Base I was stationed at.” Jake mentioned as he let himself curl up in the world's most uncomfortable chair. “Point is we all

make mistakes, don’t beat yourself up about it, but I’d definitely be a little more cautious when reading patients emergency contacts.”

“You’re wife’s a pretty strong woman Mr. Seresin.” Lydia smiled. “I hope that despite whatever reason she was keeping all this from you, that she’s happy you’re by her side when she wakes up.” Jake chuckled as he slightly readjusted himself and pulled his hood over his head. There were a plethora of ways you could react to his presence running through his mind, he hoped though, that the young nurse who’d accidentally filled him in on your current fight was right.

“I hope so too kid, I hope so too.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The slow steady rhythm of the many monitors currently tracking your vitals were the first sounds you heard as you slowly but surely woke from what you could only describe as one of the deepest states of complete and utter rest you’d ever experienced.

Next it was the multi coloured Christmas lights that were hanging around your room. The reds, greens, yellows and blues that reminded you of nineties joy were the first things you noticed in the dimly lit hospital room you knew you were in.

The third thing you noticed wasn’t a sound or an object, but it was the all too familiar sleeping man curled up in the most awkward position imaginable next to your bedside. Jake, your Jake. Sleeping with his mouth open wide and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Woah—“ You groggily cooed as you felt the presence of another man checking your vitals beside you. “Whatever the hell kinda drugs you’ve got me on right now Doc has me seeing my ex husband.” You smiled ear to ear as you kept looking at Jake, sleeping, a little bit of drool even tainted his chin as his arms remained crossed and his hood covered his head. “This shits strong as.”

Doctor Ignatii continued reading and recording your vitals the more you came to, he knew, judging by the time you’d finished your dose of intravenous sedative and how cognitive you were, you’d come to realise in about two, maybe three minutes indefinitely that it wasn’t the drugs making you see the mirage of a man at your bedside, but in fact the real deal.

“Mrs Seresin, can you follow the light for me?” Doctor Ignatii asked with a smile as he clicked on the small but effective flashlight at the end of his pen. He was gentle with the way he handled your head ever so cautiously, holding your eyelids open one by one as you followed the light accordingly. “Can you count to five?”

“One, two, three, four, five—“ You mumbled out. Jake heard your voice as he stirred next to you and shot up with a gasp that startled you. He looked like a deer caught in headlights as he sat upright and wiped the dry drool from his chin.

“Welcome back to the land of the living Mr Seresin, I've seen a lot of ways people have tried to sleep in those horrid chairs but I’ve never seen that particular position before.” Doctor Ignatii chuckled to himself as he clicked his pen light off and placed it back in his top pocket. “Alright Y/n, wiggle your toes and touch your nose for me.” All you did was stare at your husband. Why was he here? Who told him? “Mrs Seresin, wiggle your toes for me please.” Doctor Ignatii was a little firmer in his request, he wasn't sure if you were just distracted or if you simply couldn't comply with his request because you couldn't feel your toes.

But when you finally did wiggle your toes, when you finally brought your index finger up to your nose and when you finally spoke, Doctor Ignatii knew that in the next hour or so when he got you up and walking, that you were going to be just fine.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice was rather horse from the sedative but you were able to ask Jake that all too powerful question that sliced his skin clean open like one of the sharpest knives never could. Doctor Ignatii knew that he had to give you some space when he was finished assessing your ability to wiggle your toes he cleared his throat. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I'll give you two a moment alone, but Lydia will be in shortly.” He explained before making his way out of your hospital room. The silence was deafening as Jake cleared his throat and looked anywhere but in your eyes to begin with.

“Jake–” You immediately asked again as you tried to sit up a little straighter. “What are you doing here?” Jake ignored your initial question and instead pressed his tongue into the middle of his cheek. His blood was boiling, he was so full of rage that you hadn’t told him you were sick that he couldn't think straight now that he knew you were awake and talking. You were supposed to be the mother of his children if at the very least. He felt like you had an obligation to disclose medical diagnoses that could alter the course of your children's lives. Right?

“You have cancer and you didn't tell me?” Jake frowned as he spoke through a tired growl. “You have cancer and you didn’t think to mention it at all, not even a downplayed version of the truth? You just–” Jakes reaction wasn't something that surprised you, but his anger did. That anger was something you hadn’t seen in a long time, anger born from love and compassion. An anger so pure it rivalled empathy itself just in a different font. “You just negated the entire thing? Jesus Christ Y/n! You have–”

“Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.” You interrupted Jake as tears welled in your eyes. “I know, I found out back in November, I hadn’t been feeling all that well since around March.” You kicked yourself everyday for not getting yourself to a doctor sooner, but with your separation, work, the kids, you just decided to self diagnose yourself as an overworked mum who had little to no time for herself. Finding the time to see a doctor was nearly impossible, it was only when you found that lump in the shower you panicked. “Jake I–”

“You–” Jake clenched his jaw as tight as he could, you swore he could have chipped his bottom teeth he was clenching that hard trying to control his frustration. “You don’t get to fucking do this to me do you understand?”

“Excuse me?” You questioned as Jake stood up from the chair he’d been cramped in for the better half of the last twelve hours. “I didn’t choose to do this willingly Jake are you fucking kidding me?” It may have come out more aggressive than Jake had intended it to, but his heart hurt so much he swore he was having a heart attack the more he looked at you in the hospital bed connected to machines and wires that told him what your heart was doing and what your blood pressure was. “I didn't choose to get fucking cancer!”

“No, no you didn’t Y/n but you chose not to tell me about it.” Jake sighed. “Am I really that bad of a person that you can't tell the father of your fuckings kids that you might be dying? Stage three!? I'd understand if you had a scare and didn’t mention it or a bad rash but stage three?” Jake spat as he walked around your hospital room like he was looking for a way out of this whole mess. “That’s closer to a death sentence than it is to a malignant mass!”

All you could do was listen, you couldn't run this time. You had to face the man who broke your heart more ways than one as he raised his voice and walked around your hospital room with his hands on his hips.

“You, you had a stroke too.” Jake's voice softened as did his eyes, the realisation had hit as the immediate love filled anger that clouded his judgement faded. The misguided anger that he might truly be losing the love of his life had begun to wash away as the sadness crept in.

“Yeah–” You didn't hold it against Jake, you'd had more time to process this than he did. “Apparently the chemotherapy was just causing havoc to my nervous system and caused a clot that travelled from my leg to my brain.” You said it with a shrug, like it was no big deal. Jake's eyes widened at the idea of something that was meant to help you had done so much damage. “I was given a pamphlet, strokes were a side effect, but I just didn’t think it would happen to me you know.”

“Honeybee–” Jake cooed as he came back over to your bedside. “I–” There was a distinct tentative pause in the way his hand automatically went to slip into yous, but even though Jake second guessed his own judgement there for a split second, he still placed his hand in yours and reveled in the way you squeezed him back. “I can't understand why you wouldn't tell me about this.” Jake had tried to understand, truly he did. He thought about it alot on the plane–all the ways in which he’d ever let you down. He understood he was a shitty husband, or had been, but this was life or death.

Jake almost wished he never asked why and had instead just silently accepted the fact you decided not to loop him in on what was probably your biggest health complication since Samuel was born. He almost wished he hadn’t asked because the way you looked right into his eyes as your bottom lip quivered and your eyes watered with such a heartbreaking cry of anguish that ripped through your chest, Jake wished he hadnt fucking asked.

“I didn't tell you because I just didn't think you’d care.” You cried violently as Jake helped you sit up. “I didnt–I just didnt think youd, you'd care about me.” Your cries were muffled into Jake's shoulder as he held you, he wanted to climb right into the hospital bed with you, but he couldn't. So Jake compromised and leaned over just enough to wrap you in his arms and rub small circles into your back as you buried your face in his chest and shoulder. “I didn't think you’d fucking care–because you haven’t cared about me in years!”

“I have never stopped caring about you.” Jake cried too, he couldn't hold it in any longer. “I have never and I will never stop caring about you Honey.” It was a hard statement to believe especially with what the past four years had been. “I promised you in sickness and in health, I'm here, I've got you.” Jake cooed as he tried to soothe you, your cries of pure anguish for your own situation made him want to die. What more could he possibly do to ease this burden from you, what could he possibly do to take the pain away. “I'm here, I'm right here.”

“You don’t have to pretend.” You tried to calm yourself down as much as you could. “Please Jake you don’t have to pretend to care about me anymore, I’m not yours.”

“No you’re not—“ Jake nodded in agreement as he pulled away to wipe your tears, you looked like hell but he wasn’t about to tell you that. To Jake you were still the most beautiful woman in the entire world, the only woman he ever needed, wanted. “But I’m still yours alright, you have me and I’m not pretending.” Jake wiped the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks, he tried not to tug at the oxygen tube feeding into your nose. “I’ve got you yeah? You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I never wanted to do any of it alone.” You sobbed again, it was all too much. Jake knew what you meant by all, you never expected your marriage to fall apart. Neither did he. “I can’t do any of this, I’m so fucking scared.” If someone had asked Jake three years ago if his marriage would fall apart around him, he would have stood up and punched whoever had said such blasphemy in the mouth. But here he was.

“You’re okay.” Jake tried his best to console you, he did know what else he could do in the moment beside to hold you. The kiss he left atop your forehead was so pure and full of love you swore it sent an electric shock through your body, the same kind of electricity you felt when you slept with Jake the night before you said goodbye to your kids. “I'm not leaving your side alright, “I’m here, I've got you, I can't lose you this way– I wont.”

Jake knew this love was a burden that you both shared. The both of you were just two sinners who can't atone from a lone prayer. Two souls tied, intertwined by pride and guilt.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Jake was true to his word, he didn't leave your side for the rest of the day. He stayed right by your side hand in hand, just sitting there, talking, not talking, sleeping. All that mattered was that he was there.

“What do you mean Bradley Bradshaw offered to get the kids from your mum's house?” You thought for a split second that perhaps you hadnt woken up. Or maybe you'd actually woken up in some parallel universe where your husband never forgot how to love you and he didn't have a disdain for the man who gave him his Call Sign out of rage. “Bradley Bradshaw? As in Rooster?”

Jake couldn't help but to smile, there was so much he had to fill you in on, the two of you hadnt really sat down and spoken uninterrupted without the kids since January. Sure there were family functions and times where you and Jake had to coexist and coparents. But he never really saw a reason to tell you all about his time in North Island. You were with him when he was called to Togun the first time, there wasn't any need to really rub your nose in the fact he was called back again. After all, a part of the reason you left was because Jake prioritised his work life over his home life, more specifically, you.

“Would you believe me if I told you I saved his life?” Jake couldn't erase the grin that grew ear to ear from his face as he watched your eyes light up with shock and excitement. He missed this, the gentle moments.

“You did not–” In all the time you had known Jake while he was a loyalist to the United States Navy, he had never once put a toe out of line. Never pushed back, never rocked the boat. He had a goal and that goal was to reach the top. You couldn't do that while drawing unwanted attention to yourself.

“I did,” He chuckled through that very grin that you swore was permanently pinned to his cheeks. “Even went against orders to do it.” The look of pure shock on your face told Jake all he needed to know, you didn't believe what he was telling you.

“Who are you and what have you done with Jake Seresin?” You chuckled softly as Jake ran his thumb across your hand. “You? Going against the brace? Unheard of.” A lot of what made Jake, well, Jake–was that he loved his job.

“Trust me Honey I never thought I'd see the damn day either.” Jake sighed, he still couldn't believe how much his time in North Island had changed him. How it broadened his perspective on all the things that made him simply him. “But he was stuck in a pretty tight spot, so was Mav, our Captain.”

“Well–” You smiled as you readjusted yourself in your bed. Unbeknownst to both you and Jake, Lydia was watching just out of frame from her spot at the nurses station. She couldn't help but to notice the loving, all encompassing look the two of you shared. Perhaps her small mistake that usually would have been a carrier ending HIPAA violation wasn't so bad after all. “Look at The Hangman go huh, who says he's always leaving people out to dry.”

“Oh I could still name a few–” It was organic the way you and Jake fell into a rhythm with one another when the pair of you allowed each other to do so. “But yeah, he's gonna fly in, get the kids for us because I really don't want them there for too long without at least one of us there and bring them back to your mums for us.”

“Is she alright with that?” As always Jake knew you would think about everyone but yourself when the only person you should have been thinking about right now was you. “What if she–” Jake cut you off with a simple shake of his head.

“I already organised it.” Jake explained softly, his thumb never stopped stroking your hand as he held it. “Your mums gonna take the kids while we figure all this out, I don't want them with mine.” It wasn't that Jake didn't love his Ma, he did. But the idea of her having the kids for an extended amount of time gave him stomach issues he couldn't handle. “I saved his life, I trust him to escort our three terrors back here.”

“Have you met our kids? You asked with an all knowing look that Jake caught right away. Maybe Rooster wasn't the best person to call on, he had zero experience with kids, let alone Jake's twins and two year old.

Jake knew that you knew there was a darkness in the distance, but in the moment while everything felt normal, you both laughed together knowing exactly how the flight with your kids would go for Bradley Bradshaw.

“You’re totally right–” Jake cooed. “He might need to bring his flight helmet as a safety precaution.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x female!reader #jake hangman imagine #hangman top gun

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kzuhasgf · 9 months

Text

encounters

pairing — jang wonyoung x itzy!reader

after meeting wonyoung at a cafe, you just happen to come across her everywhere. you both decide to befriend each other. (at least, that's what's supposed to happen)

tags — f!reader (ethnicity friendly), idol!au genre — pure fluff, romance word count — 2,420

notes — reader is ’03 (born in august), is the same height as wony, not proofread, this photo is so 🔛🔝, I'm gay

after two long months of promotions, you and the other girls of ITZY could finally rest. you were looking forward to relaxing for a while because you've needed it for a long time, but you were disappointed to learn you'd only have a week off due to your solo schedule.

you were already halfway into your week, much to your dismay. your company has recently overworked you and the girls, and knowing that you only have so much time for yourself, you decided to stay put at home.

that is until yuna forcibly brought you out of your room.

"yah, what do you want?"

"don't be so cold! I need you to come with me." yuna grinned.

"what is it…" you grumbled.

yuna often clung to you and talked about different things since you were both part of the maknae line and were born the same year as her. you both acted more like siblings than anything, always arguing but not having the heart to hate each other.

you both had your differences, and times like this highlighted them.

unfortunately for you, she dragged you to yeji and chaeryong's room, where you were forced to face the fierce eyes of your leader. your eyes widened, and you looked at yuna, already fearing for the worst.

"you actually got her out of her room?" yeji raised her brow and crossed her arms.

"yep, I know. no need to mention it. so does that mean I can go now?!"

"you need to ask her permission first." she pointed at you.

"what permission?" you looked between them in confusion.

"so you didn't even tell her yet?! shin yuna." yeji sighed and closed her eyes.

"okay, so yuna here agreed to meet up with an yujin tomorrow afternoon at a cafe, which is fine with me, but, the problem is, she has no one to accompany her."

"lia and I will be at the grocery store with our manager, ryu and chaery will have a dancing session, and you will be at home. I told her she is not allowed to go without supervision.""

"but that's just no fun, unnie! I have our driver! why can't I bring our bodyguard?" yuna whined.

"our driver is just there to drive you. and you're not supposed to be obvious! isn't this all private?" your leader said with slight frustration.

"you're right... but that's why y/n's here! you'll come with me, right n/n?" she asked, pouting and looking at you with puppy eyes.

talk about the devil. "so that's why you brought me here?" you groaned with faux annoyance.

"do I even have a say in this??"

"maybe…"

"no, you don't. you have to go, or else our maknae might keep on whining." yeji babied her and squished her cheeks.

you facepalmed. "oh my god. you guys planned this to get me out of the house, didn't you?

a few more bickerings later, you agreed. after all, she was your best friend. you didn't have much of a choice. you couldn't really say no to her. and who in itzy could resist that face?

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you and yuna walked into a cozy cafe and kept your heads low so you couldn't be recognized. you both went to a more private area, where yujin, the puppy leader of IVE, perked up and waved you two over.

yuna squealed with excitement when she stood up, embracing yujin and swaying her around.

you bowed and removed your mask, smiling at her until you noticed she was standing next to someone you didn't know.

I thought it was just yujin with us?

the girl, who appeared to be lost in thought, made yujin tap her shoulder, causing her to exclaim in surprise and stand up to bow back at you and yuna.

your jaw almost dropped in shock.

you took it back. you had no way of not knowing who was greeting you right now. she's the talk of, well, everywhere, and anyone would know her. there are posters and billboards of her all over town,

in front of you was the jang wonyoung.

the it girl of the fourth generation, and the girl everyone adores and envies.

"y/n, right? I heard you were also born in 2003. we should make an ’03 line group chat together!"

"oh, also, this is my bandmate, wonyoung. you've probably heard of her."

"it's nice to meet you." She took off her mask and sat down, smiling at you.

"it's also a pleasure to meet you, wonyoung."

you sat next to yuna and in front of wonyoung. no one noticed, but you were dazed by the beauty who is wonyoung. you couldn't focus when yujin spoke to you, her saying something about "feeling comfortable" and that she and yuna would just be catching up on things, and you smiling in response, trying to act normal.

the leader nodded to the girl next to her, and the younger girl nods back in acknowledgment.

minutes pass, and you can't help but stare. you tried not to be obvious, scrolling on your phone while the other two talked about whatever they were talking about. you weren't paying attention. instead, you were focused on her. if yuna ever noticed your predicament, she would definitely tease you later.

wonyoung put down her phone, tucked her hands beneath her chin, and leaned toward you, interrupting your train of thought.

"hi, y/n. do you want to talk with me? to pass the time."

you lifted your head and fiddled with your fingers beneath the table. you notice yuna smirking at you from the corner of your eye before turning back to yujin.

you ignored her and smiled at wonyoung.

"sure, wonyoung. I think we'll be here for quite some time." you barely glanced at the other two conversing, off in their own world, before returning your attention to the girl—

who you openly declared was much more beautiful in person than in photos.

she giggled sweetly.

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for your solo schedule, you had to attend a collaborative event consisting of different brands, where they would showcase their newest items and products. you were an ambassador for one of them, so you had no choice but to leave.

it was good for publicity, they said.

you found it bearable cause you were alongside other k-pop idols, so you wouldn't have to watch the showcase in distress and could instead make conversations or meet acquaintances.

another good thing about events like this was that there was always food. good food.

after posing for photos, waving to your fans, and being interviewed, you entered the venue and went to the food section, where you saw familiar and unfamiliar faces.

you also saw a bunch of random influencers who were ecstatic to see all of the celebrities with whom they could interact.

on an entirely different note, you were satisfied with the amount of servings they had. you couldn't eat much of the snacks presented though, since your management team put you on a diet.

while walking around, you saw various designer items on display, and you grimaced because they were more expensive than the previous sets they released. the prices only continue to rise.

when you came across the sponsored products, such as makeup, skincare, and so on, you noticed a crowd forming, and your curiosity got the best of you, so you came closer only to hear such loud commotion.

you stood on the sidelines and your eyes widened when you saw wonyoung, an ambassador for multiple featured brands such as innisfree, miumiu, and kirsh, standing there, looking as elegant as ever.

you never expected to see her again, but you still happen to come across her here.

"wonyoung-ah, can I get a picture with you!"

"wonyoung, look here!"

"wonyoung, can I get your autograph?!"

you couldn't show it, but hearing this almost made you frown. as an idol, you knew the troubles of constantly being in public, always under the watchful eye of society and netizens, and you couldn't bear how this girl felt about being bombarded every second, left and right for every reason. you wanted to feel sympathy for her.

"step aside, everyone! someone's coming!"

when a booming voice caught everyone's attention, wonyoung breathed a sigh of relief and managed to slip away from the group of fans.

she didn't realize you were watching the entire thing unfold, and you were still in a dilemma, so she accidentally ran into you.

"oh, y/n! I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there."

"wonyoung, hey! how are you doing?"

"I'm doing great. fancy seeing you here, I wasn't expecting you."

"well, I'm here now." you chuckled.

"you look... gorgeous, by the way," you added, your eyes roaming her lovely dress.

"o-oh. thank you, thank you. I appreciate it, so much." you didn't know it but wonyoung cursed at herself for stuttering.

"so, where are you planning to go?" she asked, hoping to cover her slip-up.

"I'm planning to get a drink and lounge around. would you like to come with me?"

her heart beat faster and her jaw slightly slackened at the idea of getting a drink with you. she welcomed the feeling of being friends with you after that meetup at the cafe, but she never knew how to contact you, since she forgot to ask for your number.

"we can hang out after, like, you know, ignore these showcases if you want."

...if she knew her cheeks would heat up so much, she wouldn't have put on any blush.

"am I... am I reading this right?" she asked timidly.

you smiled and nodded at her. "yes, yes you are." you extended your hand, giving her the option of holding it or not.

"okay... okay then. sure. let's go get a drink together, y/n." she smiled confidently and took your hand, linking your arm with hers.

you both exchanged numbers before the event ended, her with a bashful smile on her face.

"I had a great time, y/n. call me." she winked.

that night, "wonyoung and y/n" trended on twitter.

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you were in line at a bakery, getting pastries and desserts for your members. you just finished your day's activities, which included going to the studio to write some songs and filling in as a temporary MC for one of the music shows.

exhausted from your solo schedule, you wanted to get home so you could collapse face down on your fluffy bed. it was almost sunset, so dinner would be served in a few hours. you didn't want to arrive late because you didn't want to hear another scold from your cat leader.

walking out of the bakery with a plastic bag of your goods in hand, you chose a pastry you wanted to try, intending to eat it on your way to your dorm. you took a bite after unwrapping it and looked around at the scenery.

you walked down the street, peering into the shops you passed, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw a large poster of wonyoung modeling for fashion.

I see her everywhere, huh?

you smiled as you remembered the conversations you'd had with her over the past month. when you and wonyoung had free time, you would text each other.

you didn't realize it, but you spoke your thoughts aloud while looking at the poster and were startled to hear a voice beside you.

"y/n?"

you would know that voice anywhere.

"oh, my god wonyoung! you scared me." you put your hand on your chest.

she giggled and covered her mouth, apologizing.

"you know, I'm starting to think you're stalking me," you jokingly stated.

"oh? and what makes you think that?" she asked, her gaze playful.

every interaction you have with her simply replenishes your energy.

"let's not forget that I caught you staring at my banner…" she walked closer to you and said it quietly enough to make your breath hitch.

"speechless now?"

"I..."

"I thought so."

you shook your head in slight disbelief as you looked at the woman in front of you. the amount of power she has.

"what brings you here, wonyoung?"

"I was going to buy something at my favorite bakery. I see you just bought from there." she pointed to the bag you were carrying.

"I didn't know you liked cherry. I like that flavor, too. besides that, I'll get going now." she began to walk away, and before you could think, you turned around and called her.

"wait, wait!"

you ran up to her, trying to catch up, but she continued on her confident strides.

"wony, do you want to go on a date with me!"

she came to a halt, her eyes widening in surprise.

she turned around, grabbed your arm, and led you back to the bakery you had just left. once you were both inside, she smacked you and dragged you to a seat.

"yah! what if someone had seen that? pabo." she smacked you again, immediately feeling bad, and massaged the spot she hit twice.

"I'm sorry... I just thought... it would get your attention," you said dejectedly.

"well, you certainly have my attention now. hah. you look like a kicked puppy right now." she burst out laughing, throwing her head back and clapping her hands. you made a silly smile and held her hand.

"so, wonyoung. would you go on a date with me?"

"aren't we already on one?" she asked, her eyebrows raised, a smile on her face.

she just always felt like bringing her guard down around you.

you brightened up and hugged her, giving all your "thank you's". she giggles and tries to swat your hands away, eventually giving up and settling for you and your warm embrace.

"thank you."

"you're welcome. I'm happy I keep on seeing you."

"me too. even if it's everywhere I go."

she laughed and smacked your shoulder before calling the waiter and placing her order.

whatever you felt at that moment, you knew you wanted to feel it more as time passed. one of the best things that ever happened to you was spending time with wonyoung, even if it was all unexpected encounters.

when you looked at the time, you told wonyoung in advance that you would bring her to her dorm so she could be safe. once she finishes eating, you swore you'd pay the bill because it's what she deserves.

when you saw her smile radiantly for you, you suddenly didn't mind getting home late or being scolded by yeji anymore.

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ending notes — yayy first fic done!! ofc it had to be my lovely wonyoung<3 not sure if it was messy, but I hope you enjoyed it!

#wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung x reader #wonyoung imagines #ive x reader #ive fluff #ive imagines #izone x reader #wonyoung #jang wonyoung #🍃kachi's works

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lvlyghost · 5 months

Text

In the Midst of War: IV

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Shadow!Reader

SUMMARY: Home is no longer where it used to be. Left with no one else you wonder who your friends and foes are.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

TW: poorly written action lol. Fluff, hurt with so much comfort 🤭. Suggestive but no smut yet🌝. Mind the english!🐸 lmk if i missed any.

A/N: okay so this was supposed to be longer but decided to split the last part for chapter v 🐣 it'll be worth it i promise. next part is coming up sooner! as you know i do a lot of double shifts at work and December is the busiest season for me at work lol, just bear with me💖 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🩵

Masterlist✨

"𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅."

It's a cold night by the time you get to the safe house in a secluded street somewhere outside Kaindorf. Ghost grunts standing next to you, one of his arms draped over your shoulders to help him keep steady or at least as much as you can help with someone his size. The mission —your first mission since Las Almas— had been successful until it wasn't. You type the code and wait until the door opens with a mechanic sound revealing a not so bad interior. The whole place is silent when you walk in, mirroring the dead of the night. No sound of cars outside not even the sound of the wind to accompany you.

"How are you doing Ghost?" You turn your face to him, he's already staring down at you, noticing the struggle that comes with trying to hold part of his weight. This is not how things should've played out. Yet there he was. A nasty bullet wound on his left shoulder and another to his leg; the latter being just a graze but still hurt like hell.

"Never been better." He growls. And you know he's trying to act nonchalantly. That's just who he is. Who you've come to know. But his injury, especially the one on his shoulder is no joke. You had tried to stop the bleeding right before digging for the bullet. The amount of pain he must've been in was as bad as yours a few weeks ago "How did we miss them?" He mutters under his breath, no doubt recalling the events.

"I don't know. But we'll find out." You lead him to the nearest couch in the corner of the living room and turning on the lamp next to him. Ghost sits down struggling to find a position where he feels comfortable enough. "Alright..." swallowing down you look him in the eyes. "I need to check your wounds again and clean them up properly, okay?"Ghost closes his eyes for a second before nodding, he's too lightheaded to do anything else or maybe it was the morphine you gave him before, he doesn't know anymore.

Trotting back to the truck you unload the duffel bags where all your weapons and medical supplies lie. Closing the door shut and locking it before returning to where the Lieutenant rests. The lamp is turned off again so you can only make the outline of everything. You stop in your tracks dropping one of the bags and shuffle nervously.

"Umm, Ghost?" He hums in acknowledgment. "I can't see anything, do you mind turning...-"

"No." His response comes fast. "I'm not wearing the bloody mask."

So he had taken it off the moment you walked out.

"Then how am I supposed to look at your wounds?" Rolling your eyes you start approaching.

He growls something unintelligible and then adds:

"Fine just don't bloody look up or...-"

"Don't worry, I've no interest in looking at your face."

But the truth was that you wanted nothing more than to see him. The real him. You had dreamed about his face. What would he look like? The small parts of Ghost that you had taken a glimpse of were not enough to make you any less curious. For all you knew was that he most likely was blond. His eyelashes are so light that you wonder if his hair is the same shade. He has soft pink lips and a strong jaw. All of him was huge. Massive. You would never say it out loud but you felt drawn to him.

"Afraid you might like what you see?"

You snort, walking towards him and kneeling in front of the couch he's sitting on. His eyes follow every move you make, never looking up in the process. You slowly peel off the bandages you had previously wrapped around his right leg.

"Does it hurt?" You ask, taking the disinfectant out as you begin to clean up his wound again.

"Not that one." For a moment you almost forget that you're not supposed to look up, but you do. You were trying to take a quick glance to his shoulder, instead laying eyes on his face.

"Shit." You bow your head down as quickly, apologizing profusely to Ghost and expecting some sort of angry reaction from him but he remains in complete silent. "I- I didn't even really see anything, forgive me Sir."

"Fucking hell." He growled. "It doesn't matter. Just don't do it again."

It was true. You barely even saw the entirety of his face. Just pale skin, light brows and a crooked nose from being broken too many times.

"Okay." You swallow hard, hands slightly shaking when your skin makes contact with his much colder one.

Ghost shifts in his seat seemingly uncomfortable with something you can't put a finger on. "Think it's time to stitch that one up." You gesture to where his shoulder should be not daring to look again. Fumbling with the needle and thread waiting for his permission. There's no verbal answer to your previous statement, only a low hum that's enough for you to stand up and silently sit on the armrest next to him, his face is turned the other way hiding himself from you. "You know you can just put it back on?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Yeah, right." brows lifting in surprise. "Want me to get you something for the pain?"

"Get it done, kid."

Breathing deeply you oblige.

Ghost's whole body tenses with the first sting of the needle piercing through his skin. Your eyes are fixated on your work but every now and then they travel to the back of his head. Blond hair. So you were right; and you can't fight back the grin that appears on your lips. You're marveled by something so simple as that; if only he'd let you come closer...

"I think it's my turn to cook something for you. All this time you've taken care of me."

"You don't have to. I was doing what I was told."

Blinking you tap his shoulder lightly to get his attention. Ghost merely turns so a small part of his side face shows, still not enough for you to see.

"I want to." Even if he says it was his job. Even if it didn't mean anything to him. All you needed was a way to thank him for what he had done. That was who you were. How you were taught to be. Grateful amongst adversity. "I'm a good cook I promise."

One last stitch. One more. And then you're done, and his body relaxes as you come to stand gathering the medical supplies while looking down the floor. Before you leave he reaches out, grabbing your wrist in a gentle yet firm grip. Eyes going wide.

"You can look now." His voice is low and when you turn he's put the balaclava back on. Big brown eyes staring with intensity. "Thanks for what you did back there."

You stutter when you speak, something about the way he holds you makes you forget how to form words.

"I had to. It was my job, although I failed..."

"You didn't fail." He growls. You motion at his wounds, embarrassed because you knew you could do better than that. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Your mouth hangs open, lips quivering when his words reach your ears. All this time you've tried to look calm. To appear strong when in reality everything has gone from bad to worse; it began with the loss of your former team and the people you held close and dear. People you thought would be there for you for eternity. And then all of the sudden there were none. Alone in a dirty side road to die, you guess that in the end there were no good people. Just soldiers following orders. But standing in front of a man who was always portrayed as the devil himself maybe... just maybe not all hope was lost. And not all people were bad. Much to your dismay, Ghost stands from his place on the old couch, rising in all his massive glory as he takes one firm step closer to you. Your hands threaten to let everything fall onto the floor, breath getting stuck in your throat. You're lucky. So, so goddamn lucky that he's your ally. Someone who, in these past weeks has become something you don't dare to name.

"At ease soldier." He commands in a hushed voice. And he's close. Too damn close you feel the heat radiate off of him. It makes your skin burn and hands sweat. "I'm just looking at you."

Ghost is terrifying when you look at him in full gear. The white skull mask a legend itself among all the military forces in the world. Hushed stories told during late nights back on base. You had never met him nor had the chance to work with him. All you knew was that. Never in a million years would you have thought you'd have to be his eyes from the distance; to be the one who guards him. Your finger caresses the trigger of your sniper rifle, ready to shoot at anyone who you deemed dangerous.

"Should've brought my own mattress." You huff, shifting your body to find a more comfortable position.

"You've been out for a few weeks. It can't be that bad." His deep voice talks right into your ear.

"My stomach was literally reattached, Lt."

A deep chuckle that doesn't last long enough can be heard.

"If you can't do it let me know. I can take you back to your room, yeah?"

"I'm having a hard time deciding if that's a good or bad thing, sir."

"The latter, Vesper."

Laughing you turn your head, maybe it's the paranoia of being back but you feel someone constantly watching you from behind.

"How's that a bad thing? Thought you liked me in my room."

You can practically hear him suck in a breath and then a muttered curse.

"Not when you're injured and nearly comatose." He grunts after a few seconds of silence.

Oh.

"Well then's a good thing i'm here."

The mission was rather simple. Break in, gather some intel and get out. Nothing was supposed to go sideways but it did. It had started with the room where the intel was supposed to be.

"Vesper." You hear Ghost calling you. "There's civilians in here." His voice drops an octave.

"What?" A shiver runs down your spine. "They are not supposed to be there." All you hear is the sound of muffled voices. Cries for help. Ghost swearing under his breath. And then shots are fired.

Your heart races when the first couple of hostiles appear through your scope. Not being one to hesitate you aim to their heads and fire.

"Vesper sitrep." Ghost barks, his end way more chaotic than yours.

"Hostiles coming in groups. You need to get out of there asap."

"Bloody hell." It's all he says before another round of shots is fired. "Meet me at the evac point."

"I'm not leaving you behind!"

Shifting your scope to look through one of the windows you watch as a dark figure runs downstairs. Ghost is trying to make his way to the back exit when another group reaches the abandoned building. You effectively take out the first three men that jump out of the black van. Then another ominous creak of crunching leaves in the god forsaken roof of the house across, rolling on your back your turn at the exact moment a bullet is fired your way, and hitting the the ground where you previously laid prone.

Wide-eyed your face pales as recognition hits your features.

You know him. And he knows you too.

His big hand lifts slowly as if asking permission to touch you to which you give a small nod. Ghost is looking at a spot on your left cheek his thumb softly caressing the soft skin of your face. You don't know why but you find yourself leaning into his touch.

"How'd you get this?" An unknown look is all you give him. "There's a scratch, right 'ere." Careful not to hurt you or cause you any pain he keeps his motion.

"Must've been when we ran through the woods." You mumble. "I'm sure I didn't let any of them get me."

"Atta girl." A small pause settles when all you hear is the sound of the night outside. Crickets and the now casual passing of cars far in the distance, returning from work, oblivious to the dangers of the world. Some things they'd never heard of before, things they wouldn't witness in their lifetime. "Better me than you."

You melt at his words. Heart nearly beating out of your chest. It's like your body acts out of pure impulse. Hands —your hands— grab the sides of his neck pulling him down just enough that his forehead touches yours, and you rest there with ragged breathing fanning over his face. Closing your eyes you weigh in your options. Break the moment and tell him about the encounter with the man back in the roof, or let yourself feel him? Because truth be told this could only mean one thing. Ghost wanted to be near you in ways that were not professional at all. And hell you wanted that too from the moment you saw him. You just didn't know it.

If the things you heard were true he didn't let just anyone close to him. What was so special about you? You wanted to ask, but you feared that even if you moved, this thing would be broken and the moment would slip through your fingers.

In a quick movement you go from standing in the middle of the living room to sitting on the nearest table, you shriek as Ghost slots himself between your legs. Seemingly unfazed by what he just did you then see the corner of his eyes crinkle. He's smiling under the mask.

"You're hurt. You'll reopen the wound and..."

"I don't care, sweetheart. I've got you where I want you." A sheepish smile forms on your lips and your cheeks grow hot. "One word. Say it and I will stop."

You nod right before he lifted his mask and his lips crash down on you.

Part 5

TAGS:

@fictionallifestuff

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Note

Hey! could i get an imagine/oneshot fluff nsfw Daemon x fem!reader where they are married and have a very good, even envied relationship (they totally trust each other and are complicit in everything) but the reader is extremely (at exorbitant levels indeed) touch hungry and soooo needy for him, (but not in a bad way) with a lot of fluff please? (sorry for my english)

Ten & One

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: As the 11th child out of 14 kids, all you knew was chaos. The pros of being one of the youngest from such a big family meant most of the duties were already fulfilled by your elder siblings, and yet the unavoidable con of having to marry well still lingered. So one can only imagine how wild your house was when you first brought home the Targaryen prince as your husband. It's even worse now that the endless supply of children hailed them as their new playmate.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: the way I said this would be short 🤡, smut (impregnation kink, praise kink, choking, riding, oral [f receiving], vaginal penetration), trash talking older sisters (trust me), fem!reader, wife!reader, so so so many kids, soft!daemon, scared by kids!daemon HAHA, girl dad energy!daemon, reader has baby fever ig, flufffffffff, typos, etc.

A/N: YO IVE NEVER WRITTEN A REQUEST SO FAST I THINK yeah so this turned into.... whatever this is. it started out with when I thought of a conflict for the prompt, but then it spiraled like it always does. 🤠 I hope you like it though nonnie!!! And don't even worry about your english. i still cant spell after all the years ive spoken it. 😪 we bilinguals gotta stick together Here's kinda a part 2 to it "Mine"!!!!

In all his years of life, Daemon faced an immense volume of angst, treachery, death, and pain. He was far from a coward and did not even waver under the gaze of dragons. Yet as he sat in the middle of a what he realized was a sacrificing room, only then did he know true fear.

They were surrounding him, filthy, loud, concerning moist-

"Why the fuck are your hands wet, Silas?" Daemon cringed as he grabbed the red haired toddler's hand before it landed on his cheek.

One of the nannies present in the nursery looked to the other and exchanged knowing and amused looks.

One blonde haired boy began to cry as one brown haired boy yanked the toy from his hand. Daemon turns, instinctively needing to hush the child, that was until the brunette begins to cry as well, because a raven haired boy steals the toy he had stolen.

The nannies don't even need to go to the crying kids as one of the older children present, their sister, Daemon thinks, worked to calm them down.

The twin brother of the boy in Daemon's grip with the same burning red hair looked over to whom spoke from the other side of the room, halting his game with his much, much younger brother inside the crib he was not supposed to be in. Silas' lips purse into a soft thoughtful line, brows furrowing against each other as he looks to his small palms, "my hands are not wet, uncle!"

The boy says this in such a sweet tone, with not hint of malice, that Daemon actually feels bad for cursing.

Upon catching where the boy was, one of the nannies move to remove him from the crib. It's futile though, the moment the woman is distracted with the other children, he climbs right back in.

Silas' twin, Oliver, the one with the actual wet hand, vindicates his brother by slapping the prince's lips with his free one, "don't say bad words!"

Daemon looks at the child-he-did-not-know-the-name-of. His only thought was at least the hand that slapped to his face wasn't wet.

"Go to your mother," Daemon commands.

Had it been anyone else, it would have struck fear in them, but the child does not recognize the threat at all, especially not when three of his female cousins come running to Daemon, making the man himself reel back in some semblance of fear.

It seems they finally found the comb and clips they needed to fix his hair with.

Fuck.

"PRINCE UNCLE!" one girl excitedly screams, shooing Oliver from away from Daemon. Oliver gleefully runs towards his darker haired cousins and engage in combat with pillows.

One nanny promptly scolds them when feathers explode everywhere.

Rebecca, or so he thinks that's her name, grins as she makes her way to Daemon's lap. Her older sister, Annaliese (?), runs behind him. The youngest among the three, Constance, he knew, sat on the other side of his lap next to her cousin.

All at once, Rebecca throws her curly, golden-brown locks behind her, making it splash against Daemon's face, adding to injury when her elbow hits the prince' jaw. Annaliese rips at Daemon's scalp, undoing the tie he had in his own silver-white hair, causing a groan to leave his lips. Constance bounces up and down Daemon's lap as she wraps her small arms around his torso and looked up at him with an adoring look.

Verdict, Daemon didn't know what to feel.

Meanwhile.

"Oh, I honestly thought you'd have kids by now!" my eldest sister, Elise nudges me, "with how hotly your prince eyes you-"

"You should have come back pregnant," our fifth born sibling, Catherine, cuts in scolding me, "I already bragged about your fertile womb to those stupid, big mouthed ladies at court."

"Sissy!" I cry out.

"They fucking deserved to be put in their place," Catherine growls, "don't they know how many children our mother sired?" she scoffs, "the audacity of those rats to call you barren just because you haven't gotten pregnant after a few months of marriage."

Elise rolls her eyes, "they're just jealous because their breast milk comes out like sand."

My jaw drops.

"Their cunts are probably drier than sandpaper," Catherine says in agreement.

Our youngest sibling, Gretta, and the only other girl amongst our siblings, makes a face and tries to halt the vulgar insults by telling me, "they're probably just jealous you snagged the prince and they didn't."

"Probably?!" Elise quips.

Catherine throws her head back in laughter, "those smelly cunts are maddened by the very idea."

My older sisters begin to fall into more trash talk. Gretta and I exchange knowing looks and take each other's hand before slowly walking away.

After we flee, I decide I am wholly ready to leave my house and all it's chaos.

"My love, I'm ready to- oh," my perky voice falls in shock when I see my husband's hair tangled up in multiple clips and ribbons. It seems the sneaky girls also got their hands on a bit of rouge, judging by the smeared red on his face.

"AUNTIE LOOK!" Frances (Rebecca) cries in joy as she stood beside her captive, affectionately hugging him, "WE MADE PRINCE UNCLE SO PRETTY!"

"FRANCES, DON'T!" Bethany (Annaliese) scolds her younger sister when she messes up her work, "YOU'RE RUINING MY RIBBONNNNNSSSS!"

"Girls, please, your cousin is asleep!" Daemon scolds weakly, cradling the little girl, Constance, in his arms.

Frances looks down on her cousin, "Oh," she leans down, "prince uncle, I can carry her into the crib if you like."

Daemon turns to Frances, bringing a finger to her face, stroking her cheek sweetly, "I'll do that myself," he turns to the other girl, "if," he drags out, "my lady sets me free."

Bethany takes Daemon's hollow cheeks into her warm hands. Daemon smiles at the sight of her gleaming eyes.

My lips pull into a pout and my hear soars at their exchange.

Bethany, then nodding to herself, turns to Frances, "we did good, sister!"

Frances squeals yet again, nearly choking Daemon as she embraces him tightly.

"Frances!" I finally intervene, amused face falling into concern, "you will behead the poor man at this point."

Frances turns to the said man and releases him slowly. Daemon catches his breath, smiling at the girl, impressed by her strength. He finally stands and brings Constance to the occupied crib where Silas and a baby he-did-not-know were napping.

Frances runs over to me, arms snaking around my skirt as much as her little limbs could, "auntie," she coos, "will you be staying for supper?"

I steal a look at Daemon who is now rubbing his face, unknowingly ruining the rouge he must have forgot he had on. This promptly triggers Bethany as she falls to her knees and mourns her craft, shrieking so loudly she could probably wake the dead.

Daemon, in his panic, promptly picks the girl up, like one would a bag, then runs out of the room, as not to make trigger the rest of the kids into similar shrieks. I watch as Bethany dangles horizontally by her torso in my husband's strong arm as she weeps into her hands.

I finally turn back to Frances after Daemon leaves the room, "sorry, little bug. Your prince uncle and I have to leave now if we wish to return to our home before dark."

Frances pouts at that. I lean down and kiss the girl's nose before leaving her in the nursery with the rest of the kids and their nannies.

I find Daemon in the hall, handing his weeping niece to her teenage brother, who was biting his lip for dear life, trying to hold back his laughter. He makes sure not to forfeit a dirty look at Thomas, but that does not hinder the giggles that still manage to escape his mouth.

Thomas walks away, carrying his sister in her arms, shushing her as he giggled.

Daemon jolts, hand instinctively reaching out for the absent sword in his belt when I come up to him with a grin. He melts against my touch when my thumbs begin to wipe away the redness on his face.

He pulls me close to him by my waist, hands rubbing my back to soothe me, though he actually does so to soothe himself. I giggle, "you would make a fine father."

"They make me eager to pull out," he notes, closing his eyes.

I lightly slap his cheek in a scolding manner.

I was still not done evening out the color on his face when he pushes past me and crushes me into an exasperated embrace, "I thought once I wanted many children after growing up with only one brother," he strokes my hair as he bends down and nuzzles on my neck, "now I cannot even bare the idea of having one."

I scrunch my face in distaste, "I will not be left childless, husband," I begin to take notice of the paraphernalia in his hair, "but," I decide to tease, "if you will not have me, then I shall ma-"

He squeezes me in his arms, lifting me up, causing me to squeak, "who says I will not have you?"

"My prince," a servant calls, making me crane my neck over to whom spoke.

Daemon begrudedly pulls away, giving the man an uninterested expression with a voice that matches, "yes?"

The prince's face contort tighter in annoyance when the servant's face tenses in reaction to what he saw. I see how his lips fight back laughter and the whole incident make me break into a giggle.

Daemon is wholly unamused, and shows it to the servant boy in particular, "it will hurt no less if I slit your throat in this moment," he barks, stepping forward without hesitation.

The servant flinches back.

I bring my hand up to his chest, giving him an annoyed look, "Daemon please."

He clenches his jaw and grips his hands but does not take another step.

"The boat is ready for you and your lady wife," the servant quickly tells, promptly bowing then rushing away.

"You should have let me bruised him at least," Daemon says scornfully.

I roll my eyes at his pouty face, "come now," I say working on removing the clips in his hair, "we must leave before Bethany sees your hair without her embellishments."

Daemon's brows knit as he looks down on me, "who's Bethany?"

The moment we arrive to our home, I finally feel the effects of entertaining the many members of my house the whole day.

I am unbelievably tired when I finally lie in bed in my favorite night gown. I am in fact too tired to even rise from my place and pull the covers over me.

"Pretty girl," I hear him before I see him. In fact I feel his hand climbing up my thigh before I see his face.

I lift my head up along with a brow as Daemon climbs up next to me only in his breeches. I lick my lips at the sight of his exposed skin and clean face. His mouth meets the skin beneath his hands.

"I thought you were exhausted, husband?"

He only hums as he positions himself between my legs, "never too tired for a good fuck, wife."

I allow my head to fall back on the bed as I laugh. I encourage him to do as he pleases when my hand scratches lightly at the roots of his freshly washed hair. Daemon kisses my supple flesh as he lifts my thighs over his shoulders.

He takes his time teasing me, lips gnawing at my skin. I release a sigh and rest my hands to my side, "you know my sisters were cross that I was not pregnant."

He chuckles, pushing my short skirt up, "I'm sure they were."

I moan when his lips meet my core. My body ignites after this.

I grip at the sheets when I feel his tongue dart out. I let out a breath, basking in the sensation. A thought however lands in my head and I cannot stop from asking it, "do you think perhaps something is a matter?"

Daemon stills, head rising from where it was tucked.

I, myself, rise on my elbows and pout, the expression further concerns the face between my legs. It however fades once I say, "maybe we're doing something wrong when we share company."

Daemon rolls his eyes, "you can just ask me to fuck you harder."

I yelp when his face sinks and he nibbles on my sensitive nub. I moan out his name like gospel, and as much as I don't want it to end, I wriggle in his grasp when I think of something else I need to say.

He uses his strength to force me still, wanting nothing but to devour me. I nearly cave and halt my actions, but I catch his attention when I whine his name out in a plea, "Daemon stop."

He is utterly irritated by this, "what is it now?"

I pout in annoyance, "maybe it's because you're too rough!"

Daemon rolls his eyes yet again.

"Daem-" I whine when his lips begin to move against me again, "think about it!"

Daemon's had enough.

He shoves my legs off him and heaves angrily. I move to sit up and give my husband a cautious look. He however manages to get on his knees and quickly yanks me back down, "shall I give you a lesson, my naïve little wife?"

I purse my lips together as he crawls over me, "I am not naïve. I am only saying that-"

Daemon sighs as he undoes his pants.

"- don't you think I should have been pregnant by now -"

He manages to rip them down while hovering over me.

"- considering how often you bed me?"

He throws his clothes off to the side and pulls my legs apart. We simultaneously moan when he enters me and I bring my hands to his nape, digging my nails into his skin.

Daemon presses a kiss on my lips as he adjusts my legs around him.

I expect him to give me a talking as he pounds into me, but I am only met with stillness and silence. And as much as I love the feeling of him in me like this, I begin to get impatient, "well?"

Daemon chuckles, "I'm teaching you a lesson, wife."

I narrow my eyes at him.

He relishes the deviant expression. He bucks his lips slowly, drawing out a moan from me. Daemon is utterly pleased.

He kisses my neck, hands going to my sides, "if you think my fucking is why you haven't fallen with child-"

I yelp when he quickly spins and rips me over him. I brace myself, hands ending up on his chest. I shift above him, making the both of us groan.

Daemon rubs my arms affectionately, taking in how the loose nightgown wrapped on my body. He fiddles with the lace, "fuck yourself on me then."

For a moment, his words make my belly roll in a wave of hot desire. But something else dawns on me when I see Daemon's hooded eyes. I break into a chuckle, he groans out as a consequence to it, "you're just tired, aren't you?"

His eyes darken. I chuckle yet again. I no longer laugh when he flicks his hips into to me roughly, "fucking move."

I hiss and lean into him, shooting him a glare of my own.

Unappreciative of my disobedience, he grabs my hips and glides me the opposite way of his thrusts, "if you do not move, I'll leave you restless and come all over your pretty face."

I whine at obscene notion.

"You wouldn't want my seed to go to waste, now, would you?" he croons, "don't you want me to get you pregnant?"

I moan as I push myself up and grab on his wrists, following his movements with my own thrusts.

He hisses, melting at my actions. Eventually he is still beneath me as I bounce on him. He praises me for finally listening, "that's it," he exhales, "up and down like a good girl."

I mewl at the sound of his deep voice. He digs at the sides of waist when I quicken my pace. At some point, he is unable too hold back from snapping himself into me. He groans as he does so and I reposition myself, allowing him to reach my sweet spot. I nearly drool when he does. I rip at my lower lip with my teeth and release a guttural sound, "Daemon."

He grunts, "yes, my love." His hands sneak under my dress and rubs my bare skin, "you're doing so good. Such a sweet, pretty girl."

I feel his hands on my belly. I roll my head back when his thumb circles on my wet nub.

His fingers dig into me, "you'll look so pretty carrying my child," he grunts, "mmm, fuck, always so ready for me."

My hands climb to his neck when he says this and I screw my eyes shut focusing on the feeling of him sliding in and out of me.

"Fuck," he drawls, absolutely aroused by the pressure on his throat, "harder," he commands.

Daemon awaits the added pressure but curses when there is none. He calls out my name, making me look down at him. I release a gasp when his hands press down on mine as he repeats, "harder, pretty girl."

I bite my lip and nod, constricting my hands on his throat just a fraction.

It seems to be enough as Daemon releases string of profanities before his hands come back to my hips. He pulls his legs up behind me and fucks into me with a renewed sense of vigor.

My voice bounces the same way my body does. I'm pretty sure I don't even move anymore as Daemon does all the work of slamming into me.

"Fuck, Daemon, don't stop," I whine, as I regain the brain to move against him.

Our own bed whines in distress over actions. The entire room is filled with lewd noises.

It's all a matter of time before it's all over.

I find myself pressing down on him when I come with a loud cry. I release such a breathy shudder that after, I lose my breath. I dig my fingers into his shoulders when I feel him follow after me the next second. I absolutely revel in the heat he burns into me, at the idea I could be carrying his seed soon.

Daemon's hands are ripping roughly at my flesh so hard, I practically feel them bruise. I couldn't care less though.

Yelps and moans continue to leave my lips up until we both crash against each other.

I gasp when I hear Daemon pant heavily after I release him from my grip. He is heaving for literal dear life.

"Daemon, are you alright?" I whine in concern.

He looks lightheaded and yet his lips curve into a smirk, "don't worry, my love, I'm more than alright."

I let out a sight of relief, pressing a kiss on his jaw. I rub my hands onto his face, his own rake my dress up and down my back.

"I do hope I get you pregnant this time," he mutters, pulling me close to press a kiss on my forehead, "I will not stop until I do." He rubs his cheek against my head, "we should go again for good measure."

I grunt at the thought at maneuver off him.

He growls, pressing a kiss on whatever he could get his lips on, unwilling to release me.

"Daemon," I warn emptily.

"What?" he mutters, finding my neck. He licks my skin before biting down, "you enjoy this."

I moan and push him off, "that's the point! You're tired."

When I'm off him, laying to his side, he chuckles darkly and climbs over me.

"Daemo-"

"I'm never too tired for a good fuck."

#daemon fanfic #daemon smut #dad!daemon #soft!daemon #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #simp for daemon

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number1mingyustan · 1 year

Text

Habit (part ii.) —k.sy

GIF by chogiwapadada

fuckboy!hoshi x fem!reader

Genre: fwb au, college au, fuckboy au, angst, smut

Warnings: kissing, cursing, oral (m.), unprotected sex, penetrative sex (doggystyle),explicit smut

Word Count: 3.3k

part i. part iii. part iv.

_______________________________________________

(a/n: i was gonna wait like a week to post this but i got impatient 😊)

"Shorty," Soonyoung nudges you.

You, Seokmin, Soonyoung, Nai, and another one of your friends, Joshua, are all out for lunch together. You're all engaged in conversation and enjoying your food when he nudges you.

"Hmm?" you turn your head toward him.

"Can I come to your dorm tomorrow night?" he asks.

"What?" you question.

"Nai and Seokmin have plans involving her coming to our dorm and they're definitely going to kick me out. I thought it would be cool if you and I could hang. If you're busy it's fine though, I'll just ask Akari if–"

"You can come over," you cut him off.

He smiles and thanks you before picking up the conversation with the rest of the group happily. There's a million thoughts lingering in your mind but you choose to push them away.

The next night Soonyoug comes over and you end up in the same position you were in four days prior. You're underneath him, only half dressed and panting.

You made it halfway through some stupid movie before he kissed you. The tension had been high since the moment he entered your dorm room. You were only wearing a tank top and some shorts and his eyes had been on you since he stepped through the door. Neither of you was truly paying attention to the movie and it was only a waiting game before his lips were on yours. You kissed him back, of course. Pretty soon your back hit the mattress and the rest is history.

You've tuned out the voices playing on your computer, however the lights in whatever is going on in the movie are illuminating the room. His hands wander as he kisses you, cupping your breasts, playing with the hem of your shorts. His touch is so delicate yet needy.

He hooks his fingers into your shorts and pulls them off, tossing the fabric onto the floor. You decide to push back onto the mattress, flipping the switch and climbing on top of him. He doesn't resist even though he's much stronger than you. You crawl up his body, using one hand to shut your laptop before your lips find his again. You're grinding down on him, the absence of your shorts creating a thin layer between your bodies.

You nudge your noses together before planting a quick kiss on his lips. He reaches his head up for more in hopes of kissing you again, but you have other plans. You allow your nose to brush against his once more, but your lips don't touch. Before he knows it, your head is just above his crotch, hands fiddling with the strings of his sweatpants.

"Wait," he stops you.

You completely freeze, looking up at him. "What?"

"Do you know what you're doing?" he asks.

A beat.

No way this fucker thinks you don't know how to suck a dick.

"Soonyoung, who do you think I am?" you question.

"Shorty, it's not like that. I just wasn't sure how much um... experience you've had with this," he explains.

You glare at him. "You should know by now I’m not some sort of virgin Soonyoung," you reach your hand into his sweatpants. "I told you my problem was that the guys couldn't make me finish, not the other way around."

Matter of fact, you've given head more times than you've actually had sex. Guys tend to be pretty selfish, but in this moment it's actually kind of working in your favor. And oh, were you about to prove him wrong.

You pull off his sweats and his underwear together. He’s already half hard and you waste no time getting to work. You spit on his cock before stroking him in your hand. You start of slow, progressively getting faster as you turn your hand along his length.

You feel his body relax and sink into bed sheets as he sighs out of satisfaction. Bingo.

Seconds later, half his length is down your throat and you continue stroking him. You thrust his cock into your throat with each bob of your head, taking a little bit more of him with each movement.

“Holy fuck Shorty,” he gasps.

You’re moving quickly, allowing his cockhead to nudge against the back of your throat each time you bob your head. His cock is coated with your saliva, easily slipping in and out of your mouth and down your throat.

His body starts to grow tense again.

You’re still stroking his length with what you can’t fit in your mouth. You allow your tongue to run along the underside of his cock every time you bob your head. His breathing grows shaky.

“Shit-yeah that’s good,” he moans as he places his hand on your head and pushes it down.

There’s tears prickling the corners of your eyes as his cock gags you, but you can take it. Your eyes peak up, admiring how beautiful he looks right now, His body is sinking into the bedsheets and his eyes are screwed shut. His lips are parted and you can hear him moaning.

You like it when he makes noise. When he talks to you, moans because of you. He's so responsive, it sends tingles through your body. Fills you up with warmth in more ways than one.

His hand guides you as he continues to push down on your head. Usually, you hate it when guys are selfish and push your head, but with Soonyoung, his hand guiding your head has you completely soaking your panties. You press your thighs together as you take him deeper into your throat to ease the tension. You feel his thighs grow tense and he suddenly pulls your head up. You look up at him with confusion.

He’s panting softly. “Fuck, I was so close. Didn’t wanna cum in your mouth.”

You pout. “I wanted you to.”

He pulls your body back on top of his and kisses your forehead. “Maybe next time Shorty, gotta fuck you properly now for treating me so good.”

He pins you underneath him.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Yeah,” he flips you onto your stomach. “Best fucking head of my life.”

Your ego swells when he confirms what you already knew.

You were only wearing a tank top and panties, making everything much easier for him. He slides the thick clothing over your head and pulls it off. He leaves a trail of kisses down your back until he reaches your ass. He slides your panties down slowly.

“This wet just from sucking me off huh?” he tosses the soaked fabric onto the floor.

“Shut up Soonyoung,” you breathe out.

You don’t even need to look at him to know he’s smirking right now. He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor.

You feel his bare cock press against your ass.

“Soonyoung,” you say.

“Hmm?”

“You’re forgetting something,” you remind him.

“No I’m not,” he presses a kiss on your shoulder.

“Soonyoung,” you warn.

“Shorty you told me you’d let me cum inside next time so I didn’t even bring any condoms,” he lies.

"Soonyoung you always have condoms on you," you remind him.

He sighs. "Okay fine you got me, but you said I could."

He begins peppering your back with gentle kisses. "Please," he whines.

You really shouldn't be considering this. Yes, you told him he could but that was in the heat of the moment. You didn't think he'd actually remember it. You know you trust him and you both know that you're on the pill. And you're really really considering it.

“Fuck,” you breathe out. “You’re lucky I’m on the pill.”

It’s all the permission he needs before he’s sliding his cock into you from behind. You both moan out loud at the feeling. You're so wet, he slides in with ease, filling you up inch by inch.

He regrets not making you cum beforehand because he fears he might not last long. You feel so fucking good, he’s losing his mind.

His hands hold your hips in place as he slams his hips into your backside. He’s mesmerized by the way your ass recoils with each thrust.

His hips pick up in speed, fucking you rougher and faster. Your moans are echoing off the walls and filling the space.

“Holy shit Soonyoung,” you cry out.

You may never want to go back to protected sex. It’s an entirely new feeling, having him stretch you open raw. It feels so fucking good and so very intimate.

He snakes his hand between your though, rubbing quick circles on your clit. He needs you to cum before him, needs to feel you throb around him while he can really feel you.

You’re crying out in pleasure, moaning his name like a chant. He pushes your head into your pillow, muffling your sounds, but giving him better access. With you bent over more, he can pound into you better.

His cock is hitting deep inside of you, dragging out and pushing in at a fast pace. He’s grunting in your head, fingers circling faster as his hips grow erratic.

Your warning is muffled, but he’s close enough to hear you tell him you’re cumming. Your whole body spasms when you cum. Your tears have started to stain your pillow and your legs grow shaky and wobbly.

The throbbing of your cunt sends Soonyoung into overdrive when he cums. He's so caught up in how good you feel, he nearly forgets to pull out. Thankfully he does, slipping his cock out of you and stroking himself quickly until his cum coats your ass.

He lets out a curse before his body collapses on your bed. He runs his hand through his damp hair before placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“You okay?” he asks.

You lay on your bed, face sinking into the soft sheets. “Yeah,” you breathe out.

“Okay good,” he sits up. “Need to get you washed up.”

He disappears into your bathroom, turning on the shower before returning. “C’mon Shorty.”

Huh? He wants to shower with you? Does that mean he’s staying the night?

He helps you out of bed and into the shower where he joins you. He helps to wash your hair and body, sure to get in his few sneaky touches.

“Shorty,” he says, scrubbing into your scalp.

“Hmm?” you hum.

“I want you to come to my show,” he says.

“What show?”

“My dance performance,” he lathers his hands with more shampoo. “It’s a month from tomorrow in the Fallin' Flower Theater and I want you there.”

Soonyoung was a dance major. Dance has been a passion of his since he was little and being able to pursue it in college felt like a dream to him. He even claims that he danced before he walked as a baby.

Why he was in your Economics class while you were a Business major? Simple, his parents.

He told you about it once over lunch. His parents saw dance as a hobby and not something to be taken seriously, especially not as a career path. They signed him up for dance classes when he was 3, and he'd been doing it since then. Jazz, hip-hop, contemporary, and even a little bit of tap. Soonyoung did it all, and he loved it. But they thought he’d grow out of it after high school, and were mortified when he told them he wanted to pursue dance in college.

They told him they wouldn’t pay for his education if he was going to be throwing it away for some ‘stupid hobby.’ Told him he should be studying something that would bring money and value into his life.

But he was able to convince them, as long as he minored in something business-related and maintained at least a 3.5, his parents would support him.

He still hated how they viewed his passion, but remained grateful for the opportunity nonetheless.

“It’s gonna be a really big showcase and an important night for me,” he explains. “So will you come? It’s at 7.”

“Yeah I’ll be there,” you assure him. “I don’t think I’m doing anything anyway. And if something comes up, I’ll cancel.”

“Really?” he beams. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Once he finishes washing you up, he insists that it’s his turn and crouches so you can wash his hair for him.

“I like the blonde on you,” you say as you scrub his hair.

“Yeah?” he smiles. “Akari told me she liked the sliver I had a little while back, was thinking of doing that again.”

Oh.

Akari.

Your heart sinks at the mention of her name. You feel like such an idiot. Of course, he’s still sleeping with her and God knows who. You don’t know how you let yourself forget.

You’re not the only one.

You just let him fuck you raw and now he’s talking about another one of the girls he’s sleeping with. You started to feel special because he stayed and showered with you, but he probably does this with everyone.

How dumb of you.

It's not his fault he's so likable. You don't think he's doing it on purpose, you really hope not. It's your own fault really, you shouldn't get your hopes up so much.

You finish washing up in silence and tell him you’re tired. He takes it at his cue to leave and redresses himself. He even helps to tuck you in and you hate that it makes your heart race.

He promises to text you when he’s home safe even if you’re asleep when he does. It bothers you that you have to hold back a smile at the gesture.

He sees himself out silently and your heart and your mind struggle to understand if you wanted him to leave or to stay.

You can't help but wonder if he's always been good at this. It's been two days since you last slept with Soonyoung, yet here is is sitting next to you in Economics telling you about some video game he and Seokmin have been obsessed with recently.

He’s been coming over more often. Just about any time Seokmin and Nai are together, he ends up in your dorm. And you open the door every time.

He usually stays after too, playing board games, watching movies, or just talking to you. He orders food and cuddles with you when you have the time, but it’s so hard for you to read him. You can’t quite figure out what’s going on in his head.

There’s days where he leaves too, cleans you ups and puts his clothes on and leaves after only a few words. It doesn’t happen often, but it hurts more each time it does.

He treats you so well in the bedroom, fucks you good too. He tends to be touchy too, playing with your hair or simply running his fingers along your skin. It drives you crazy, that he can treat you like his girl in the bedroom and like you’re just a friend in class.

It’s infuriating how good he is at this. There’s a million questions running through your mind, but you bite your tongue. Figure you’ll spare yourself the embarrassment.

It’s been about a week since the last time you saw Soonyoung outside of class. And now Nai has dragged you to a frat party so she can see her boyfriend. And you know if Seokmin is here, Soonyoung will be too.

Nai disappeared about 30 minutes ago with Seokmin, leaving you to fend for yourself. The music is loud and there’s not enough alcohol in your system to drown it out. You haven’t seen Soonyoung anywhere and you don’t want to be here anymore.

If he is here, he’s probably upstairs fucking someone without you as so much as a thought on his mind. You hate to admit that the only reason Nai was able to convince you to come was because you thought he’d be here.

Oh.

“Shorty!” his voice calls.

You turn around, seeing Soonyoung make his way down the stairs. Leina follows close behind him and you bite back a frown.

You’ve got a good idea of what they were doing upstairs a few short moments ago. You feel your heart twist and tighten at the sight.

This shouldn’t bother you. You and Soonyoung are just friends, and just because you’ve been hooking up, you shouldn’t be getting any ideas. You’re not his, and he’s sure as hell not yours.

He completely ditches her and makes his way toward you. He very drunkenly pulls you in for a hug. He doesn’t let go as quickly as you thought he would, he hold you for a moment and your body grows warm.

“Hi Soonyoung,” you greet him.

“I had no idea you were here,” he frowns, finally releasing you from the hug.

“Yeah, I was just on my way out though,” you tell him.

“What?” he shouts. “You can’t leave!”

“Nai dragged me here and then disappeared with Seokmin like 30 minutes ago and I don’t know anyone else here,” you tell him. “And I have an exam tomorrow and I can’t say I’m in the mood to meet new people.”

He frowns. “I’m here though.”

“True,” you smile. “But you’re also very drunk.”

He huffs. There was no denying that.

“Fine, I’ll walk you home,” he says.

“Oh no—you don’t have to-“

He’s already disappearing back upstairs before you can finish. “Just let me get my jacket!”

He comes back downstairs a few moments later with his jacket and leads you outside. You tell him again that he didn’t have to do this, but he assures you that he doesn’t mind.

The two of you walk at your own pace, engaging in drunken conversation. It’s pleasant, talking to him. Even though you’re both intoxicated, you still have really meaningful talks with him.

"Wait," he stops suddenly, causing you to stand still.

He pulls his jacket off his body and wraps it around your body. "You looked cold."

"I was," you smile at him. "Thank you."

"Of course," he beams at you drunkenly.

"So, Soonyoung," you start.

"Nah Shorty," he interrupts. "Hoshi, call me Hoshi."

"Hoshi?"

Hoshi. It's a nickname that he's had since he was young. He doesn't really remember where it came from, probably his mom. But he rarely lets anyone call him that. It's a nickname that only his family and really close loved ones used.

The people he really cared about and loved.

"Yeah, Hoshi," he smiles. “It’s only fair since I always call you Shorty.”

"What's your show about?" you ask.

"What show?" he questions rather drunkenly.

"Your dance performance?"

"OH!" he giggles to himself. "It's like... a guy who's been shielded pretty much all his life. And so he runs away from home and ends up in this huuuge city. And at first he's scared and he feels out of place, but then he meets like a bunch of other people and goes through this whole journey of self discovery and love and stuff."

"You're telling that story entirely through dance?" you ask.

He nods. "Yeah it's kinda like the nutcracker where you have to rely only on the movement and the music to understand because there's no words."

"Hoshi that's amazing," you beam.

"Thank you Shorty," he grins.

"Is it one of those one man shows?" you ask.

He shakes his head. "No, there's other people in it. It's mostly me though, and I choreographed everything."

"That's so impressive, I can't wait to see it," you tell him.

Your walk has come to an end as you two approach your dorm. You start to slide his jacket off your body, but he stops you. "Keep it, I'll get it back another time." he yawns. "It looks cute on you."

Why is your heart beating so fast right now? Fuck, you really need to get inside. "Thank you for walking me home" you smile.

"Of course, you're good company Shorty," he winks at you.

"Are you sure you'll make it to your dorm okay?" You ask.

He nods, assuring you that the alcohol is starting to wear off and that he's fine. You trust him.

"Goodnight Hoshi."

"Goodnight Shorty."

_______________________________________________

#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #hoshi kwon #hoshi seventeen #hoshi fanfic #hoshi smut #seventeen hoshi #svt hoshi #kpop

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cluelylikesporn · 4 months

Note

Hii so this is somewhat my first time doing a request so I’m sorry if it sucks or sum 😭😭 Could you do Mike schmidt x babysitter! reader? Where Abby teases the reader in front of Mike for having a crush on him? srry if it doesn’t make sense or sound like sum interesting I just thought it would be cute 😭

RAHHH first of all thank you for your suggestion!!

second, its legit so cute wtff😭 dont even say it sucks

ALSO DISCLAIMER I KNOW IVE BEEN SAYING ILL POST FOR LIKE FUCKING 5 MONTHS AND THE FNAF SHIT HAS DIED DOWN BUT GUYSSS CMONN COME BACK

Im a lazy cunt😭

word count:

mike shmidt x babysitter!reader !!

gender neutral reader (correct me if i fuck it up)

mentions of y/n. literally once.

word count: 637

I WROTE THIS AT 2AM FORGIVE ANY MISTAKES OK GOODNIGHT

mike walked inside after his first shift at freddy’s, slightly rattled by the dream he had.. but glad to be home to finally get some freaking sleep.

when the door opened, he was BLESSED by the sight of you. abbys babysitter. if he had maybe a drop of self respect or confidence he could ask you out, maybe even date. but lets be honest hes a complete wuss and his best excuse is “not wanting to ruin the thing they had now” which was an occasional awkward exchange of the same 5 phrases such as “hello, good morning, how are you? im ok. how are you? good, hows abby? good. good.” and then a super awkward silence. but in the recent days, when he still worked at the mall he and you actually had nice conversations that didnt feel forced. mike had hope yet.

“hey, y/n.” he said as he put his keys down, observing abby as she swung her feet in excitement from the table, watching you as you made her pancakes.

“hi mike !” you say, turning to him slightly and cracking a smile before you looked away to put the pancakes on a plate and pass them to abby. luckily you looked away when you did because your eye contact was enough to make mike look like a tomato. “i hope you dont mind i made pancakes, if you want some, theres a little more i was gonna put away !” you said, reaching for a plate. “im ok, thanks. and dont worry about it.” he said, sitting next to abby who was looking between him and you, plotting an evil, DEVIOUS, horrid plan with a grin comparable to the cheshire cat. mike gave abby a terrified look as he began regretting even MENTIONING the idea of you in a romantic way to abby. he began mouthing pleads of her to show an ounce of mercy but she already turned to you and began to open her mouth.

“are you busy this weekend?” abby said while making direct eye contact with mike and snarfing down pancakes.

“uhm.. i dont think so? my only plans from now and the unforeseeable future is watching you so if your asking to hang out chances are ill be with you already, weirdo.” you said, as you begin washing up the dishes used to cook.

“not for me, silly! for mike!" she says innocently, batting her eyes and grinning like a madman to me.

god, ive never been more terrified by a fucking 10 year old. trying to brush off the comment of a date to a child, you piece together a response.

"uhh, if im babysitting you.. and its a weekend.. mike would be there too..!" you said awkwardly, trying to just scrub a damn pan.

"but, what if i was at a friends house?" abby added

"then i wouldnt be there." you say.

"but mikes so lonely..! he has so friends-" abby begins, before mike puts his hand on her mouth.

"abby, stop being weird- what the hell!" he says before being interrupted by abby licking his freaking hand.

"thats so unhygienic, dont do that." he says as abby giggles evilly, and you begin to speak.

"well if mikes sooo lonely, he can.. i don't know... just maybe.. ask? if i wanna hang out? because id.. say yes?" you say, looking at mike.

he blessed the skies above that you were actually confronting and he didn't have to face the awkward rejection that haunted him.

the kitchen was finally quiet for a moment, until abby break the silence.

"do it, do it, do it." she chants silently.

"would you.. wanna go out.. with me.?" mike said silently and awkwardly, cursing himself in his head for being so nervous when she literally confirmed she was down.

"sure, mike schmidt."

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #fnaf #mike schmidt #fnaf mike #abby schmidt #spotify #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf fanfic #babysitter au

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nineblooddances-if · 1 month

Note

Would the ros let me nibble them a little?

BITING/NIBBLING ON THE ROS

COMMANDER AAPO I LIBERTAS

"Yes, of course you can. That's what a leader does. Yet for a nibble I may ask much, much more of you."

He has no reservations about letting you indulge in your little ticks and habits, doing the same for others below him to keep them pleased and moldable. But he will partake in his own fun later. Whatever that means.

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

COMMANDER ANIL/AIDEN II LUXURIA

"Bite me without my permission and I will take it as you want your teeth removed."

She is constantly around demons who practically latch onto her and are desperate to please her. Asking her permission to do the simplest things. Most of the time, she truly does not care. So if you want to bite her, ask. She'll let you with a long sigh and counting down from five.

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

COMMANDER ALICE III GULA

"Ha! Sure! Careful though, I might bite you back."

She's the most accepting of it and finds it funny. More than willing to let you do as you please with her, within certain bounds. As long as you are respectful about it, for there are times she will refuse, cause she can't trust she won't eat you.

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

COMMANDER ERIC/EDWARD IV AVARITIA

"... If you must...."

He finds this odd, but not at all unusual within hell. He won't really react, whether you're drinking his "blood" or biting him just for fun, letting you do as you wish before bidding goodbye.

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

COMMANDER LOUIS V IRA

"Absolutely Not!"

He's offended if you ask! Gasping and clutching his things close. He is a king amongst the rest of you and everyone else, and you should respect that and not poison his beautiful flesh with your mouth. He refuses to engage with those lower than him and will make a big fuss. He, in truth, is not a fan.

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

COMMANDER GABRIEL VI MENDAX

"Oh?! If it is what you wish."

He is intrigued, now for what reasons, who knows. Keep a close eye on her, cause she will take it as an opportunity to get within your good gracious and may possibly spread unsavory rumors.

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

COMMANDER DAMEION VII VIOLENTI

"Only bite? I am sure we can do much, much more."

A bite can lead to so much more. In his mind, if you want to bite him, then you want to engage horizontally. Dameion is no stranger to biting since bloodhounds are quite physical and somewhat aggressive in affection. He's down for whatever.

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

COMMANDER LUCY OR LUCIUS VIII FICTUS

"Please bite me!!"

The most eager for it. Though if for a good reason, you're not sure. They might try and take your DNA or photograph your bite for something nefarious.

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

COMMANDER TRENT IX PRODITIO

"Oh? Why?"

Unsure of why, he'll still offer out his arm. He wants to be a good friend to you.

#ro questions #romanceable options #ro rambles #if wip #interactive fics #interactive fiction #nine blood dances if #twine interactive fiction #dating game #if game #interactive fic characters

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her-power · 4 months

Text

Last Chance to Dance (Rockstar! e.m. x fem reader)

🚨🛑🔞18+++ MINORS DNI - YOU WILL BLOCKED🚨🛑🔞 TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING (For entire series): Rockstar! Addict! Sweet! Mean! Eddie, smut, unprotected p+v, fluff, fingering (f receiving), masturbation, oral (m+f receiving), heavy drug use, descriptions of IV drug use, swearing, talks of anxiety, panic disorder, mental illness, talks of suicide

Summary: Modern Eddie + reader are early 30s. Eddie is the famous lead singer/guitarist of Corroded Coffin, who has gotten himself into legal trouble due to his antics and drug use. Eddie broke your heart many years ago and he receives a letter from you asking to meet to talk about what happened between you two so long ago. Secrets are talked about, mental walls are built and broken down. Most of this series will be in Eddie's POV. (I will also be putting song inspirations on each part 🤍)

Word Count: 5k

A/N: There will be a LOT of mentions of heavy drug use in this series. This series DOES NOT glorify the use of drugs. It is not cool, it is not fun, it is something that destroys people and everyone around them. I have loved and lost people I know to drug and alcohol use, a lot of what you read here is my own personal experience from what I have seen with my own eyes. I hope this series will spread awareness and will give anyone and everyone who reads this hope. If you or anyone you know is struggling with addiction, please know you are not alone, there is help out there.

The silence is almost deafening as I sit there in my dimly lit office, tapping my finger against the arm of the chair; the metal of my ring clinking as I stare at my therapist, Dr. Catherine Ryan, in front of me. She had a kind smile, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk today.

“What’s bothering you?” She asks gently.

I gaze at her, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. A stupid habit I formed when I stopped using six months ago.

Let’s see, I’m tired of the noise inside my head that is constantly reminding me what a piece of shit I am. I’m lucky that my bandmates don’t hate my guts for the shit I put them through on tour when I was needle deep in a heroin fog and couldn’t remember the lyrics to a fucking song I wrote. My music career is only surviving because the world thinks we’re on a hiatus to write our next album when I actually did a stint in rehab and have court ordered mandatory therapy once a week. The only way I can have therapy is if she comes to my escape cabin in upstate New York and escorted in and out by a security guard.

Oh, I also can’t stop thinking of you, the one whose heart I broke fifteen years ago back in Hawkins, Indiana because I was too scared to love or be loved. The same you who mailed me a letter that I received at my P.O. Box in Boston three days ago, that I haven’t opened yet and sits in my back pocket folded up, because I’m too much of a pussy to see what you have to say.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I tell her, taking a cigarette out of my pocket. I let the smoke fill my lungs and exhale the smoke away from her.

“What do you want to talk about?” She asks, crossing her legs. I stare at her long legs, and my eyes scan up her body. She was curvy and thick, with a perfect set of tits and stunning green eyes. I almost laugh, if a beautiful woman like her was in my house six months ago, it wouldn’t take long before I’d have her bent over the back of my couch, fucking her until she couldn’t take it anymore. But I couldn’t do that anymore. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, or whatever the fuck the saying is.

“Eddie, this is mandatory therapy. I can’t help you if you’re not willing to talk. We’ve had four sessions so far, and the only thing we have talked about is your drug habit.” She seemed annoyed, and I couldn’t blame her.

“I’m only here because of my drug habit.”

“Is that all?”

She was testing me, and I smile at her, leaning my elbows against my knees. “You know, I bet you are really good at helping people and are able to get your patients to sit here and cry about their shitty lives or whatever it is people tell you. But I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, you’re not gonna get it from me.”

“You keep up a guard. Defense mechanism, it’s common in people who have been hurt before.” She says, scribbling a note down.

I narrow my eyes. “I sense judgment in your tone, and I’m not sure I care for it.”

“It’s not judgement, Eddie. It’s an observation. I’m observing you.”

I sit back against my chair and scoff, lighting up another cigarette with the ember of the one I just had. I inhale deeply. “I think our session should be cut early today.”

She closes her notebook and gives you a kind smile. “If that’s what you want.”

“I do.” I tell her.

I get up from my seat as she stands, walking her to the door where the security guard waited outside. I may be an asshole, but I know how to be a gentleman. Chivalry isn’t dead when your name is Eddie Munson. She nods at me as she leaves, handing me her card for the time of the next session for next week and I close the door behind her. I stub out the cigarette in the ashtray and let out a deep sigh. I plop myself on the couch, hearing the crinkle of the letter in my back pocket and I lift my hips to pull it out. I look at the neat print on the front; seeing your handwriting brought back so many memories that I had forgotten about.

Why would you send me a letter? Is it just to tell me how happy you’ve been these last fifteen years since I’ve been gone, that you’re married with children, thriving in your thirties?

“Well, the only way to know is if you open the letter, dipshit.” I mutter to myself. I groan, shaking my head as I rip the letter open and unfold it. It was only two pages, but you had written a lot.

Hey, You’re a tough guy to find, being famous and all. I didn’t think this P.O. Box was real at first, but I ended up tracking down Gareth and he told me it was real. I can’t believe he still has the phone number he’s had since high school. I don’t know why I’m writing you a letter, I guess I could’ve just texted you, he did give me your number, but I wanted this to feel more personal. Like when I’d write you those stupid folded notes in class. I know it’s been a long time, and you’re probably thinking I’m absolutely insane, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately. There are so many things that I wanna say to you. There are so many things that were left unsaid, and I guess lately it’s been bothering me. You’re probably not even going to get this, so I don’t even know why I’m continuing to write. I don’t want you to think that I hated you or have hated you this whole time. It would be easier to hate you, believe me, I’ve tried but I physically cannot have that kind of power over me. I’m proud of you, Eddie. You worked so hard to get to where you are, and you made your dreams come true. I knew you could. I want to tell you I’m proud of you in person; to let you know that what happened in the past stays there and we can both move forward in a way. I mean, I just told you now. I know you’re really busy and I feel stupid now. But I will be in Boston in December, the week of the 18th while my aunt is down in Florida for the week, house sitting. Gareth had mentioned you and the band were taking a hiatus to focus on the writing and doing some self reflecting. I would love to see you, especially with the holiday season.

It’s not every day you get to see the boy you’ve known since diapers be on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine, selling out stadiums.

Please don’t feel obligated, though.

I suddenly forgot how to swallow, and I almost choke on my own saliva. You had written your phone number on the bottom of the last page. I swing my legs onto the floor, taking my phone off the coffee table. I scroll to my contact list, and add your name, along with your phone number.

I pause, my hands begin to shake, and I inhale deeply.

“No no no, not now, not now.” Grimacing, I sit back on couch, closing my eyes as my stomach turns to knots and my chest feels like it was going to explode. I can feel the sweat bead at the back of my neck as the panic attack feels like it’s choking me out and I groan. I go into the drawer of the coffee table, pulling out the lorazepam pill bottle, taking a minute to open the cap because my hands were so sweaty. I throw the pill in my mouth, swallowing it dry and breathe in through my nose.

This happens more often now, especially since being off dope, I had to learn how to deal with them like a normal thirty-four-year-old man. It took a lot of convincing for my doctors to give me the lorazepam, but apparently threatening to go and take a hot shot of heroin to kill myself was convincing enough for them to give me the lowest dose of the stupid pill.

I close my eyes. Thinking back to how I got here; how I could’ve lost everything because of my own stupidity, because of my inability to slow down, because I took sex, drugs, rock and roll too literally. All because I refuse to let love into my soul and hold on tight.

One year earlier

The dressing room walls echo with the moans of myself and...I don’t even remember her name. Sarah? Shelly? It doesn’t even matter. I only see the back of her head anyway; she was very blonde. I hold onto her hips tightly, slamming my cock in and out of her. She was screaming like a porn star, and I’m pretty sure she was putting on a show.

“Oooooh, just like that baby. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Oh goddd, you’re so fucking good.” She moans and I roll my eyes, slamming into her harder just to get her to shut up. I reach over to the coffee table to grab my tiny vile of cocaine, I pop open the cap, and pull out of her for a moment. She was still rolling her hips as I sprinkle the drugs onto her ass.

“Stop fucking moving.” I tell her, grabbing the plastic straw and snorting back the drugs into my airways. She moans again when she hears me snort another line off her, and I slam myself back into her. My head falls back in pleasure, the effects of the cocaine causing every single part of my body to pulsate, and I can feel my orgasm approaching.

“Fuuuuck.” I moan, my rhythm getting sloppy, and she groans.

“Cum inside me baby, cum inside me.” She moans and I immediately feel myself go soft. Fuck this. I stop moving and slide myself out of her, she turns to look at me, her mouth opened in a gasp. “Why did you stop?”

I take a cigarette out of my pack and light it. “Get out.”

“What?” She snaps.

“Get your shit and get the fuck out of my dressing room. Telling me to cum inside you, I know what you’re doing.” I take her dress off the floor and throw it at her. Her eyes narrow and she gets up from the couch, throwing the dress over her head.

“You weren’t even that good, fucking junkie!” She yells at me, and I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lungs. She looked like a cartoon character. Her eyes wild, her hair a wild mess, her fake tits bouncing as she storms out of the room. I lean back on the couch, a little mad that I didn’t cum, but whatever, that’s what my hand is for. I don’t know why I invite these women back to my dressing room after every show. Most of the time, these women don’t even know the words to our songs, they just want to be able to tell their friends they fucked a rockstar. I sigh, opening the vile and do another bump. I’m one hundred percent in love with heroin, but I’m an addict. Cocaine just takes the edge off when I need it to. I tie my hair back in a low bun, blowing my bangs out of my face. I stand, catching a glimpse of myself in the fluorescent lit vanity mirror. The lighting made me look terrible; I was thinner than normal. The ram skull tattoo across my abdomen looked discolored, but I know it was just the way the light was hitting it. I was losing muscle mass in both of my arms, but since tattoo sleeves covered both my arms, no one could notice. No one knew how bad it was getting with the dope; I honestly preferred to suffer in silence about it, but I knew they noticed. I would feel Gareth’s eyes burn into the back of my skull whenever I would escape to go into a bathroom, or immediately go into my hotel room to get started on my new supply. I felt terrible keeping it from him, he was my brother, my bandmate, but he didn’t need to worry. I was fine, at least that’s what I told myself.

We had awhile before we hit the next city of the tour. The tour bus felt too crowded, too stuffy. We all decided it would make sense to hide out in a hotel for a few days before we got to Atlanta. I requested my own room of course, the supply I just bought felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket. Isn’t that what they say about money?

Money meant nothing to me; if I lost it all tomorrow, I wouldn’t care. That’s the beauty of this drug, you don’t have a care in the world once that shot courses through your veins.

I lock the door to my room after saying goodnight and head into the bathroom. I pull my shirt over my head and undo the belt from my jeans. I set everything up on the table: fresh needle, the drugs, and water bottle cap. It doesn’t take long for me to pull the dope into the syringe, at this point it’s like riding a bike for me. I sit on the floor against the bathtub, I wrap the belt around my left arm, pulling it tight with my teeth and clench my fist. I see the most perfect vein pop up in the bend of my arm; I have to be careful though, I can’t go to the same spot twice or else I’ll blow up my veins and then more people will notice. I’ve always hated needles, isn’t that ironic? I’m thinking that as the tip of it pinches my skin and my thumb is on the trigger, slowly pushing it down.

“A spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go down…” I sing softly, feeling the sweet burn of the heroin flow like a tsunami in my veins. My eyes flutter close as the most beautiful feeling overcomes me; my head lulls back against the porcelain and I feel a smile grace my lips.

A loud knock at my door startles me out of my high, and I’m pissed.

“Hang on a second.” I mutter and awkwardly pull myself up, undoing the belt from my arm. I place the cap on the needle and toss it behind the doors under the sink.

Knock knock knock knock knock

I toss my sweatshirt over my head, putting a cigarette to my lips. “Yeah, I hear you! Fuck, I’m coming.”

I open the door to find Gareth standing there with his arms crossed, I light the cigarette and wave my hand, tilting my head at him. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing?” He asks me.

“What do you mean what am I doing? I’m not doing anything.” I inhale on the cigarette, and he continues to stare at me. If there was a God, I thank him for giving me brown eyes, because at least he wouldn’t be able to see how my pupils look like pinholes. “Do you wanna come in?”

I move to the side, and he walks by me, I shut the door, locking it.

“Do you want a beer or anything?” I ask him, going into the mini fridge, pulling out two, I could feel myself about to nod, but I quickly stand up, clearing my throat so I can at least look like I’m not fucked up.

“No, I’m fine.” His eyes scan every inch of my room, the floor where my clothes were, Sweetheart laying on the foot of my bed. My necklace I always wore with the red guitar pick laid on the nightstand by the bed. I always take it off before I shoot up, I don’t know why, I think something is going to happen to it if I don’t, it means a lot to me. His eyes fix on my belt on the bathroom floor, he doesn’t say anything, but I know what he’s thinking.

“Gareth, if you got something to say, man, just say it.” I tell him, leaning against the small table, I ash my cigarette into a coca cola can.

He turns to me; he was still blessed with a baby face that I remember from school. “How bad is it getting?” He almost whispers.

“How bad is what getting?”

“The drugs, man. Come on dude, I know you’re not stupid.” He sits across from me on the foot of the bed, gently moving Sweetheart over.

I sigh. “Gareth, I’m fine. It’s not getting bad.”

He puts his head down, shaking his head. “Don’t fucking bull shit me, Eddie. I’ve known you for almost two decades. Have you even looked at yourself lately?”

I close my eyes, feeling a wave of anxiety hit my lower gut, and I force it to go away by not caring. “Don’t worry about me, man. I’m serious.”

“Of course, I’m gonna fucking worry!” He stands up, his face full of rage. “If you fuck up this tour, our entire music career is in the gutter! How many times have I had to bail you out when you’ve been coming down from a cocaine binge and are late to rehearsal? How many goddamn times have I had to convince cops not to arrest you when you’re inebriated beyond belief. It’s getting fucking old, man.” He towers over my 6-foot frame and again, I start laughing.

His eyes widen. “Are you seriously laughing right now?

“Yeah.” I chuckle. “I am, because it’s funny how you think I’m gonna be the one who’s gonna fuck up this tour. I built this band from the ground up, nothing and no one is gonna fuck that up.”

“Oh fuck you, dude!” He yells at me. “You built this? What happened to you saying this entire band was built on friendship, loyalty and fucking friends who play nerdy games? What happened to that Eddie?”

“Dead.” I give him a sideways smile. “Dead dead dead.”

He looks at me incredulous. “Wow. You’re an actual nightmare.”

“You’re the one who decided to knock on my door.” I place the cigarette in the can, hearing it sizzle out. I cross my arms over my chest, already itching for another shot. “Anything else?”

He scoffs, walking towards the door and stepping out. “No. Have a good night, Eddie.”

“Yeah, you too!” I scream at his back as I shut the door, locking all the locks and kicking the bottom of it. Suddenly, the chair near the table gets a boot from me, followed by the lamp, the paintings on the walls. I smash the beer bottles against the windows, and when I’m finally spent, I collapse on the bathroom floor, digging out the needle. I’ll leave the hotel a couple hundred dollars to pay for whatever I damaged; I’ll hopefully remember to clean up tomorrow.

I’m pretty sure I put too much in it this time, because I’m riding something wild right now. My eyes are half lidded, my breathing is slow but it’s such a peaceful feeling.

“Makes the medicine go down…medicine go down…”

The beginning of that year was when shit started going downhill fast for me. Once I had gotten my panic attack under control, and I felt calmer, I sent you a text message, realizing that tomorrow was the 18th. I typed up, deleted, typed up, deleted, about six different times before finally sending you: Hey stranger, it’s Eddie. Pretty wild to hear from you. I’m currently up in my cabin in upstate NY, but if you are gonna be in Boston. I can make the trip. It would actually be awesome to see you. Hope you are well.

I forgot how nervous you made me, even back then. You were such a kind, beautiful soul, who loved me and took care of me when I didn’t deserve it. I was so nervous all the time because I really loved you too, but I couldn’t…wouldn’t let myself feel it. You were the only woman in my life that knew me, and actually saw me. You were my best friend, always my partner in group activities in elementary school. It was us against the world the minute I kissed you for the first time when we were eighteen, and then it ended with me, burying my head in the sand, because I’m a fucking idiot.

My phone dings and I see your name pop up. Hey!!! Wow, your own cabin huh? Are you a mountain man or something this winter season? I’m sorry if my letter was all over the place, I really should’ve just texted you but, whatever. Here we are now. Yes! Let’s meet, I can give you a spot to meet for coffee? Unless you just want my aunt’s address, I don’t know how Boston is when it comes to famous people.

I type up a message: Boston is one of those cities that is wild to play on stage in front of, but the people don’t give a fuck if you’re famous. Which is why I bought a condo there, I can live out some downtime in peace. Coffee sounds great. Just let me know a time when you are settled.

You quickly respond: Ha! Boston is pretty rad. I’m already here, I got here a day early. I know you got a pretty long drive so we can meet the day after tomorrow if you’d like? Say around 10?

I type up that that time and date worked for me and begin packing a small suitcase to take with me on the trip.

I honestly felt like I was dreaming all this; I get sober, you, a woman that was literally the one that got away because of my own fucking deep-rooted issues, comes back into my life and wants to see me? I feel like I’m living the Notebook. Except, the rated R version where Ryan Gosling is an ex-junkie, who doesn’t build houses, or used to blow cocaine off a woman’s asshole.

I groan, I already know I’m gonna fuck this up again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The coffee shop you chose was a place I’ve never been before, it seemed newer, and no one batted an eye when I walked in. I take off my sunglasses and scan the place. It was quaint, quiet, with rustic undertones but mostly modern.

“Eddie?”

My eyes immediately fix on you, sitting in the back booth by a small window, and I feel my heart flutter down to my stomach. God, you were stunning. Your eyes still shone that sparkle in them, your smile was just as adorable as I remembered, especially the dimples in your cheeks. I whisper your name and find myself quickly walking towards you. You wrap your arms around my shoulders, and I let out a deep sigh, almost lifting you off your feet, as I hug the curves of your waist, burying my face into your shoulder. We stay like that for a while, you giggle into my chest, telling me you couldn’t believe it was me and that I was here. I didn’t want to let go, but I knew I had to. We pull away and you are still smiling, looking into my eyes, you lift your hand to gently curl your fingers into my hair and I smile at you.

“I love that you still kept this hair.” You say, shaking your head, looking like you’re still trying to process that I’m standing in front of you.

I gently cup your face, swallowing hard, studying you. You turn your cheek into my hand, and I slowly remove it. You nod for me to sit, and I scoot over into the booth, peeling off my leather jacket. I still stare at your face; I couldn’t believe you were real. The server comes over to take our coffee order, I get mine hot with triple espresso and a shot of caramel, and you get an iced coffee with a shot of vanilla and almond milk. I smile, you’ve kept the same order since you started drinking coffee.

Your eyes fix on mine, and I smile at you, sipping my coffee. “You haven’t changed.” I tell you softly.

“My back will have to disagree with you.” You laugh, spinning the straw with your finger. “You haven’t either, aside from more tattoos.”

I smile; remembering that you were there for most of my smaller ones. I had convinced you back then to get a large tattoo that started from under your breast, all the way down to the top of your hip; that was always my favorite part of you to taste. I cross my legs, feeling a tingle in my lower belly. Fucking pervert.

I notice a few finger tattoos on your right hand, and I nod to them.

“I told you they were addicting.” I laugh. “How many do you have now?”

You laugh, a sound so beautiful to my ears, I want to cry. “Sixteen? Seventeen?”

My eyes widen and I laugh. “No way! Let me see.”

You meet my eyes, your face turning crimson. Of course, there were hidden ones, I immediately feel like I overstepped and go to apologize when you speak. “It’s a lot of random ones, all over. I added some stuff to the rib piece.” That one you show me, you lift up your sweater, and I feel my dick twitch.

Pervert. Dirty pervert. It’s been fifteen years, put your dick away.

The cluster of wildflowers that started from your ribs to your hip had added roses to different spots they ended up entwining into a beautiful ivy vine, before falling off towards your back. I notice the bottom of a small piece on your sternum, and you pull your sweater back down.

“That��s beautiful.” I tell her, smiling. “What have you been doing these last fifteen years?”

“Well, I moved out of Hawkins.” I smile at that, she always wanted to leave that place. “I moved to Maine, I bought myself my own little cabin in the woods. I’m a nurse at the local hospital there.”

My heart practically bursts with pride, and I laugh. “See? You don’t have to be famous to have your own cabin. That’s wonderful, I know that was always a dream of yours, becoming a nurse.”

“Yeah, it’s fulfilling. Heartbreaking 99% of the time but fulfilling.” Your eyes fix on mine again, and we just share comfortable silence as we stare at one another.

“Your eyes are sad.” You say suddenly.

“What?” I snap myself back down to my reality; it was easy to get lost in your eyes.

“You look like you’ve been through hell and back again. Sorry for being blunt, I’m just sorry for whatever is bothering you.” Your eyes show me that same familiar kindness, and I smile awkwardly at you.

“I’m okay.” I tell you, only half lying.

You place your hand over my ringed fingers, gently entwining them. I stare at our hands, and gaze back into your eyes. “What am I doing here?” I whisper to you. I can feel my heart do another back flip, and my brain screams at me to get up and run because I can still feel your love.

Your fingers gently move over the bumps on my rings, and your eyes dart to mine. You spot the small silver chain around my neck, half tucked in my shirt, and you lift your hand to gently pull out the red guitar pick. You finger the plastic and smile. “Wow. You kept this all these years.”

“Of course, I did. I never take it off.” Except when I used to shoot dope, but that’s beside the point. I swallow the lump in my throat. “Sweetheart, why am I here?”

You sigh, giving me a sad smile. “Would it be weird if I said that I really fucking miss you? And for the last fifteen years, I haven’tstopped thinking about you.”

Heart exploding.

My breath hitches and my eyes widen slightly. “But…I hurt you…and I left—"

“I know, I know you did, but” you take my hand again. “Eddie, we were best friends. Since before we could even say those words. You were so important to me. You’re still important to me. How could we throw that away?”

I stare at you, reading your face, gazing at the shape of your mouth, the way your hair falls in waves, the curves of your breasts. I squeeze my eyes shut, pulling my hand away from yours. “You wouldn’t think that anymore once you know what I’ve done, who I’ve become.”

“Then tell me.” You say softly, your eyes dart from my lips, to my eyes. I stare at your lips, remembering how perfectly they fit against mine, how soft they were. How eager you would be when your tongue would slip into my mouth, deepening the kiss, your soft moans vibrating against my mouth as I carefully push myself inside you.

I meet your eyes; you’re waiting for me to say something. I shake my head, running my hands over my hair. I sigh. “How long you got?”

You look at your wrist at a fake watch. “About a week.” I laugh and lean back in my seat, sipping my coffee.

Yeah, I missed you too.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Special shout out to: @trixyvixx @originalstar1 @iggyizalien @themorticians-world

& so many of you who supported my last series.

I wouldn’t continue writing if it weren’t for you guys giving me the motivation to do it. Love you all!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson comfort #rockstar eddie munson #Spotify

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nicksbestie · 2 months

Note

hii um ive never made a request before but i looove your johnnie fics >.< if itz okay could i request some fluff of johnnie x a male reader like maybe johnnie realizing he wants to be more than friends with reader?? thank yoouu !!! ^^ <3

awww! thank you so so so much!! and yes you can absolutely req this :)

i just wanna put out there that i do not have the male experience, so if any of this is wrong or inaccurate please let me know!! i would love to improve the writing <3

Feelings

warnings : none!

word count : 1382

pairing : johnnie guilbert/male reader (romantic)

enjoy!! <3

There were a lot of things in Johnnie’s life that he hadn't figured out yet. There was always a level of anxiety when you were in a career field such as his, as there was a possibility that something could happen and it could go downhill. He was also still young, only in his mid twenties, so he wasn’t expected to have his entire life figured out. However, there was one thing he thought he had figured out for certain, and that was who he had romantic feelings for. He liked girls, and only girls. He had figured that out years ago, or at least he thought he had. But that was before he met you, and it had been weighing on his mind for weeks.

You were his newly obtained best friend, the person that he had been spending a lot of time with lately. You had met fairly recently, but you had just clicked in a way that made both of you know it would blossom into a really strong friendship, and both of you were very excited about that. It wasn’t like you didn’t have any friends, but you were always open to making more, especially creating close bonds with them. You had been filming a lot with him, getting used to being around each other, and you loved the fact that there had been almost no awkwardness, even from the beginning. You were comfortable around each other, and that was the best part of the relationship.

But Johnnie was dealing with more behind the scenes, a lot of confusion, a lot of self reflection. He didn’t understand why you were consistently on his mind, why he couldn’t think about much else. He knew part of it were classic signs of having a crush, but that couldn’t be what was happening, because he was straight. He knew that, it was one of the very few things that he knew for a fact. He hadn’t thought about it in years, hadn’t even considered opening his mind to other possibilities, because he didn’t believe he needed to. But now, with you consuming his mind over ninety percent of the time, it seemed like he was going to have to think about it.

The thought of that was terrifying. To realize that something that was so concrete in your life may be crumbling, that could have the potential to completely reshape how you view yourself, is scary to anyone. Johnnie had pushed it to the back of his mind for weeks now, having known that there was absolutely something there, but he really didn’t want to spend the time thinking about it because he didn’t know what he would do about it should he realize what he was dreading. He couldn’t deny the fact that he was afraid of people’s perspective of him changing, possibly losing people in his life, and because of that, if he didn’t think about it, then it wouldn’t become a problem, right?

It wasn’t until multiple videos later, a couple more weeks of denial, before he finally spent time actually thinking about what he was feeling for you. He knew it was more than platonic feelings by this point, but he didn’t know what that meant for him exactly. He also didn’t know if he would be able to continue a friendship hiding it from you. He’d never felt anything for anyone of the same sex before, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Sure, he’d kissed Jake a couple times, but that was just for fun, there was no actual passion behind it, but for some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you. He hated the way that he really, desperately, wanted to know what that would be like.

He’d finally given into the fact that he was attracted to you when he woke up in the middle of the night from a dream, swearing that he could still feel your lips on his, or at least, what his subconscious decided that felt like. He was unable to shake that dream out of his head for the rest of the day, which made it especially awkward because you were hanging out that day and filming again. He very pointedly ignored the comments that drew attention to the way his eyes had lingered on your face for a bit too long to be friendly. Unfortunately, you didn’t ignore them, and he cursed himself out in his head when you were sitting next to him, and tilted your phone towards him to show a stream of comments about it, complete with a timestamp.

Of course, you had to click on the timestamp to see the clip. Of course you did.

You looked at him, absolutely noticing the way his eyes immediately darted away from your face.

“They kinda have a point, don’t they?”

He laughed, scrolling on his phone, breaking eye contact.

“I guess, people love to make things up.”

You decided to push it a little bit.

‘You have been staring at me a lot lately. I’ve noticed it while I’ve been editing videos. If you weren’t straight, I’d say you had a crush or something.”

You took note of the way he swallowed hard, half shrugging without looking at you again.

“Or something, yeah.”

You sat up, intrigued.

“Or something? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I’m straight, or something like that.”

You could feel the fact that he was hiding something, and wanted to know what it was, despite having a feeling that you already knew.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I know we haven’t known each other all our life, but I’m not gonna judge you for anything.”

He sighed, pretending to be distracted on his phone, but you were sitting close enough that you could see he was watching the same video over and over again.

“I’m not sure, maybe I’m not straight. I haven’t totally figured it out yet.”

“Oh? What prompted this?”

You thought he was ignoring you for an agonizingly long couple of seconds before he spoke again.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about it.”

“Yeah, I call bullshit. Something prompted this. Have you got a crush?”

His silence told you everything you needed to know.

“Oh my god, you do! Who is it? Spill.”

“I can’t tell you.”

You scoffed, knowing you’d already heard worse in your friendship than a small crush.

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

It was at this point that he turned back to look at you, another sigh escaping his lips.

“I just… can’t.”

His eyes made it look like he was begging you to understand, and he could see the realization hit you as yours widened a bit, mouth falling slightly open.

“Oh. You’re crushing on me?”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your mouth, immediately regretted it when he blushed a lot harder, and immediately went to get up off of the couch. You grabbed his wrist, stopping him from leaving the room.

“Wait, no, I wasn’t laughing at you, I was just surprised, that’s all. Sit back down, yeah?”

He rolled his eyes, but he could feel the fact that you weren’t going to let go of his arm, so he did, once again refusing to look at you.

“I just didn’t realize it would be me that made you rethink your sexuality.”

“Yeah, me either.”

You smiled, despite the fact that he couldn’t see it.

“Well, I can help you confirm it.”

He turned his head at this, possibly doubting what he just heard.

“What?”

You took this moment of vulnerability to press your lips to his. Fear rushed through you for the split second that he wasn’t kissing back, but the second you went to pull off, his hand came up, threading through the back of your hair and keeping you pressed against him, desperation pouring from his body. Eventually splitting apart to breathe, you had a small smile on your face, and staring at him, you realized it matched his. He ran his hands through his own hair, leaning back against the couch, smiling wider.

“Well, I’m definitely not straight. And that was just as good as I dreamed it would be.”

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fic #johnnie guilbert fanfiction #johnnie and jake #fanfic #jake webber fluff #jake webber fanfic #jake webber fanfiction #jake webber #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert smut

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eusion · 11 days

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪nct wish hyung line as ur college bf ⌒☆

word count ⌒☆ 858

pairing ⌒☆ nct wish hyung line x reader

note ⌒☆ ive done it... save me

sion ⌒☆

walks with u to ur every class even if his own class is across campus

attends every club formal event with u bcus he cant let ppl see u without him!!! esp if ur dressed all pretty

despite wanting to be around u all of the time he will give u more than enough time to urself or w ur own friends

hes jumping into dance circles at parties but will periodically check in on u to see if ur doing ok

"did u eat yet" "ok did u wna go get food"

never gets jealous or competitive when he sees other guys flirting with u. hes v confident n trusts u 1000%!!

hes just better and he knows it

gets shy often so pda doesnt come easily

so when he holds ur hand while walking through campus u feel really giddy

doesnt let u eat in the dining hall bcus he thinks the food sucks so he tries n brings u lunch everyday

always there to lend support or advice whenever u need it

otherwise hes quietly cheering u on w the biggest smile on his face

he takes care of u a lot but u always make sure to return the favor!

he needs a lot of reassurance too so u always take time out of ur day to tell him how much u appreciate him

cup his cheeks n give him a kiss!!!!! he will smile so big...

hes v studious n never puts off his work

his good work ethic rubbed off on u but even during study sessions u both cant help but get even a Little distracted

laughs at all of ur jokes n ur not sure if its bcus ur funny or bcus he wants to make u feel better

riku ⌒☆

will do anything to take the same core classes as u so he can have a partner

if someone tries to take u as a partner first he will whine n cry until the other person gives in

designated study buddy even though u two get distracted 100% of the time

when ur rlly stressed from exams count on riku to be there to give u comfort n lots of hugs

whenever u get up for something as small as presenting or as big as mcing for ur club event, riku will always be there cheering the loudest for u

"THATS MY GIRLFRIEND!!!" then covers his face in embarrassment

randomly calls u over zoom just for fun...

works at ur campus bakery n passes u free bread n pastries even after getting in trouble w his boss

also jumping in the dance circle n will take 5 min breaks in between to chug his water n fan himself

dragging u to every campus event..........

when u two have sleepovers ur sharing his twin bed

he will hog the blanket n steal ur plushies + the entire pillow

drunk riku is either spitting out nonsense or theres a constant string of i love u's

u two are learning tiktok dances in ur free time n saving them for ur drafts just to look back on later

always at ur apt/dorm? unannounced?

but ur roommates n housemates are used to it

plays volleyball for fun w his friends n u come to his lil games to cheer him on

yushi ⌒☆

takes pottery as an elective n every piece he makes he dedicates it to u

begs that u visit him at work with the widest eyes

gives u free drinks all the time even after getting caught n almost fired

lets u take as many silly pics of him bcus he knows ur gonna post it on main....

and gets super Happy when u post him

u two are regulars at his favorite stir fry restaurant! the owners love seeing u two together n will always add on the unofficial college couple discount

lives on campus so u two have lots of sleepovers together..

dormmates recognize ur shoes n always expect u to be there

always tagging along when u need to run errands! whether itd b for groceries or returning a shirt he will b there!!

ur always studying when hes around :((( < yushi

ur laptop on the coffee table n ur back against the couch as u sit on the floor..

sometimes he will come over n just lay his head on ur lap while scrolling thru his phone

matching accessories.. lil things like scarves, gloves, etc

has a cute selfie of u two as his lockscreen and an off guard of u walking along the pier as his homescreen

part of ur schools dance crew along w sion

u love watching his performances! u never get tired of watching him and bragging to everyone about how talented ur bf is

"and u didnt bring me flowers?"

matching merch for ur college... just showed up once day with two varsity jackets for u n him

is actually on the unis soccer team n is one of their best! #allrounder

u go to his games in his jerseys all the time just to see how big his smile gets on the field

#nct #nct wish #nct wish imagines #nct imagines #sion #riku #yushi #sion imagines #riku imagines #yushi imagines #nct fluff #college au

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visceravalentines · 1 month

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a goddamn break

that's right boys it's a saw fic from me, the clown

2.5k words. neat n tidy little character study of my favorite guys in loathe with each other. no content warnings. not explicitly coffinshipping but anything's coffinshipping if you glare at it long enough. I fucked with the timeline of saw iv to make this make sense but literally time isn't real especially in these movies. hope you like it!!

Peter Strahm tells his doctor he doesn’t smoke, and if he were hooked up to a polygraph, it would read as true.

That’s because he knows how to lie in a way that makes the words fact, at least in that moment and the one that comes after. It’s because he quit in college, cold turkey, the day after he got his diploma, and the doc doesn’t ask if he used to smoke.

It’s also because the battered pack of Camels he keeps in the pocket of his suit jacket doesn’t count. That’s for emergencies only.

Today constitutes an emergency. The last two weeks have been a goddamn emergency. Every waking moment since he set foot in the Metropolitan Police Department has been nothing but dead ends and incompetence. Today is one of a long string of days he’d rather fast-forward through to get to the good part, the part where he wins.

He’s never had a liaison turn casualty before. Detective Kerry had a good head on her shoulders, knew which way was up. She’d reached out to the FBI for help on the Jigsaw case, not the other way around. That was the mark of a good cop. One who knew when they were out of their element.

Strahm isn’t ready to admit he’s out of his element. Not yet. Because he isn’t.

He just needs a smoke.

His jacket is slumped over the back of his garbage office chair in the shitty little temporary office he shares with Perez. She clocks him rifling through the pockets, raises a sympathetic eyebrow.

“Don’t,” he warns before she can open her mouth.

She puts her hands up like she’s negotiating with a terrorist. “I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“It’s been a rough couple of weeks,” she concedes.

“Understatement.” Strahm shoves a sigh out through his nose. “I wanna talk to Jill Tuck again.”

“I know you do.”

Her tone borders on consolation. Strahm shoots her a look. “She’s the key, Perez.”

“She’s a big shiny window and you’re a bird flying at top speed,” she replies. “There are other avenues.”

Strahm shakes his head, taps the pack of Camels against his palm. “I wanna talk to her again.”

Perez rolls her eyes, mutters a curse, and he feels a surge of pride. He's rubbing off on her. “I’ll bring her in.”

“Has forensics pulled their heads out of their collective asses yet, or is that too much to ask for in this shithole precinct?”

Perez smiles beatifically. “I’d rather not answer that.”

Strahm makes a sound like a shoe in a dryer. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“Take fifteen.”

He grumbles something unintelligible even to himself and stalks out.

There’s a door to the alleyway near the men’s room. Strahm knows this because the two aren’t clearly labeled and he’s gone through the wrong one twice. As he turns down the hall he sees that someone has propped open the external door with a rock to keep it from locking behind them, probably some other idiot chipping away at their respiratory health.

He almost reconsiders, almost turns around to find his way to the front of the building. But that’s stupid. He can stomach five minutes five feet away from another person.

Strahm pushes his way through the door, descends the stairs to his left, rounds the banister to the right, and stops cold.

Hoffman turns that dead-eyed stare on him, blows a lungful of smoke through those Hollywood housewife lips. “Agent Strahm,” he says in a monotone that conveys the most mild surprise conceivable.

Strahm considers walking back in the building for five whole seconds. He has no qualms with casual incivility. But he sees Hoffman doing the same math, catches the twitch of a smirk that may as well be a gauntlet thrown at his feet.

Peter Strahm is many things, but never a coward.

He slouches over begrudgingly, finds a section of wall, gives Hoffman a noncommittal grimace and dares to hope, just for a moment. It would be possible for this interaction to pass in silence, incredibly possible. Painless, even.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” Hoffman remarks, and Strahm grinds his teeth.

“I don’t.” He digs in his pocket for his ancient Bic lighter. He picked it up at a gas station in St. Louis years ago, never saw the need for an upgrade. Bic makes quality products.

Hoffman takes a drag, watches him pull a cigarette from the pack. “My mistake,” he says in the back of his throat. Smoke wafts loose from his mouth.

Strahm strikes the lighter once, twice, thrice. It sparks, but no flame except a flash of white-hot irritation.

He pictures Perez telling him to picture a beach.

He strikes it six more times even though he knows it’s not going to work, tries to count to ten in his head and fizzles out around four, remembers now the last time he lit up in Baltimore and thought to himself I better fill ‘er up.

He did not, of course, do that. Unfortunately.

Strahm straightens his head and looks hard at the brick wall across the alley and waits for it. He can feel Hoffman savoring the moment, knows exactly the sanctimonious look that’s plastered on the detective’s smug fucking face.

If he makes him ask for it, on his sainted mother’s grave, Strahm will shoot him.

Hoffman exhales serenely. “Need a light?”

Somehow that is worse.

Strahm keeps the cigarette pressed between his lips and his eyes straight ahead and holds out his hand to the right. He’ll be goddamned if he lets Hoffman light it for him. He feels the brush of the detective’s fingers on his palm and the familiar weight of a Zippo, uncomfortably warm from Hoffman's pocket.

When he flips it open he sees an engraving, worn down by what appears to be the frequent back-and-forth rub of a thumb across the letters. Saint Mark. He doesn't want to know.

Strahm lights up and hands the Zippo back to Hoffman like it might carry some disease. He fills his lungs with a bittersweet buzz and lets his head drop back, blows smoke to the sky. “Thanks,” he mutters.

“Anything to help the FBI,” Hoffman replies, and Strahm really can’t tell whether or not he’s trying to be more punchable than he already is.

He inhales again and holds it as long as he can. Enough time has passed since the last time he smoked that it goes right to his head, makes his brain hum behind his eyes. He feels better immediately. The smell always whisks him back to his undergrad days, to the stairwell outside the campus library where he used to take study breaks. Cold night, dark clouds, sodium street lamps. A certainty about himself and the future. A support structure. Simpler times.

“Made any progress with Jill Tuck?”

His pleasant memory gets shredded like paper through Hoffman's weird little teeth and he’s back in an alleyway that reeks of trash and vice, stomach acid creeping up his esophagus. Strahm taps his finger, watches flecks of ash spiral down and disappear near his shoe. “What do you think?”

Hoffman takes a thoughtful drag like he’s never heard of a rhetorical question. “She's a deeply troubled woman.”

“Great insight,” Strahm snaps, “really valuable stuff there, detective. Why am I even here?”

“I just figured with your expertise, you might be more successful than me.” Hoffman wears a look of such mock deference Strahm wants to gag. “I'm sure whatever training you get at the FBI is unmatched.”

“Don’t give me that shit.” Strahm doesn't want to play this game, not in this city, not this time. “Look, I know you don't want me here. I know I stepped on your toes at Detective Kerry’s crime scene. That's my job. I come in and stomp around until something shakes loose.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly. Please don't mistake me for someone who intends to make your role in this harder than it needs to be.”

There's something besides cigarette smoke behind the words, something weighty. Something that gets Strahm to look directly at the detective for the first time.

Hoffman looks back, unblinking, and Strahm thinks of a shark behind glass. He thinks about perspective and how an object seems motionless when it's coming straight at you. He thinks all this too fast to parse meaning, but his instincts are good, have always been good, and the hair on the back of his neck wants to stand up.

“I think you’re a good cop, Hoffman,” he says carefully. He’s swimming slow back to shore. “I think your department has been sacrificed on the altar of obsession one by one and you’re still here.” No splash, no wake. “Whatever else that means, it means you’re smart.”

Hoffman blows smoke and gives Strahm a look of gratitude so patronizing it makes his skin crawl. “I appreciate that, Agent Strahm. The past several months have been…taxing.”

The past several minutes have been taxing, but Strahm keeps that to himself. He can't shake the feeling that something big just passed him beneath the surface, barely missed him.

“What’s your instinct?” Hoffman asks. “How much do you think Jill knows?”

Strahm scoffs. “Plenty. Enough to write a trashy memoir and disappear from the public eye if she really wanted to. But she hasn't. Why?”

“Because she's involved. Anything she says could incriminate her.”

“No shit.” Strahm sucks on smoke. “And no offense, detective, but I've seen those interrogation tapes. You're too fucking soft on her. You want juice, you gotta squeeze.”

“With all due respect, I'd like to see you try.”

Strahm bristles, shoots him a glare. “Is that a fucking challenge? You think I'm gonna meet my match in Jill fucking Tuck?”

“You misunderstand me, Agent Strahm.” Those eyes glitter with something like mirth. “I mean I truly would like to see you try. Jill Tuck has been a hurdle since the start of all this. Like it or not, we're all players in this game. It's about time she gets pulled off the sidelines.”

Strahm examines him with interest. “You make it sound personal.”

Hoffman breaks eye contact, settles his gaze on some invisible point down the alley. A look of remorse slides over his face like a shadow over the sun. “At this point, how could it not be?”

Whatever else might be going on here, even Strahm has to concede that’s a reasonable response. His mind conjures up memories of closed-casket funerals past and he thinks of his colleagues back at the home office. He thinks of Perez. He clenches his jaw, remembers he’s supposed to be relaxing, takes a hard drag and is rewarded with a wave of nausea.

Hoffman is talking again. “Have you had a chance to look through the case files for the last three Jigsaw games? I think there were ten victims total. If you're right and John Kramer's health has kept him from hands-on involvement, maybe there might be something we missed, something–”

Strahm holds up a hand and exhales around his teeth. “Can we not do this? I just–I need a break from this Jigsaw bullshit. For like thirty seconds.”

“Sure thing,” Hoffman says amicably. He stubs his cigarette out on the wall, leans back against the brick, purses his lips. For a few blessed seconds Strahm thinks he might let the silence stand, or even better–leave. But then: “Got any plans this weekend?”

Strahm pounds his closed fist back against the wall with a little more force than he means to, closes his eyes, chews on a sigh. “No,” he says loudly with what he hopes is sufficient finality.

“Do you fish?”

“Do I what?”

“Fish. Go fishing?”

Strahm groans. “No, detective, no, I don’t fish. I spend enough time sitting waiting for lower life forms to take the bait in my professional life, thank you very much.”

Hoffman lets out what might be a laugh. “Fair enough. You strike me as more of a hunter anyway.”

“Never been,” Strahm says dismissively. This is a lie. He knows the woods of rural Vermont blind. The first time he shot a gun he was seven and the kick knocked him flat on his ass.

“I like to fish. Head down south when I can find the time. You ever been to Bass River?”

Strahm grunts, gives up, slumps against the wall mirroring Hoffman’s posture. “No.”

“Beautiful country. When this is all over, you and Special Agent Perez oughta make the drive down. Worth the detour.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Where are you and Perez staying in town? Maybe I can make some local recommendations, help you make the best of your time here.”

Alarm bells again. Something in the water. Something coming at him. “I don’t know,” Strahm deflects, “some place downtown. Old as fuck. No water pressure.”

Hoffman chuckles. “Sounds like my last apartment.”

“Yeah, you guys have a real issue with property values up here.” Strahm examines his cigarette, figures he can get one more pull off it. “Have you considered razing all the abandoned buildings so Jigsaw runs out of chessboards?”

Something like a smile twists Hoffman’s lips. “Arson, special agent?”

Strahm flicks his filter across the alley. “Whatever works.”

“Litter, too,” Hoffman observes.

Strahm rolls his eyes so hard his neck kinks. “This has been fun, but I’d better start combing through the four thousand page report your medical examiner handed me this morning. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” He stands up straight, winces at the tweak in his back, stretches his arms behind him.

“See you around,” Hoffman says.

Strahm makes it halfway up the stairs to the landing before Hoffman calls after him. He almost ignores him, thinks better of it. Gritting his teeth, he leans over the railing. “Yes, detective?”

Hoffman regards him coolly, his gaze like a blunt steel blade. “I'm sure it goes without saying, but…be careful who you trust. If there is an accomplice, we ought to proceed with caution.”

Strahm resists the urge to sneer. “No disrespect to your department, but I’m here because I’m competent. Some chemo-addled freak and his band of misfit toys? I’m not exactly shaking in my boots.”

He could swear Hoffman smiles, just for a second. A flash of teeth that doesn’t reach the eyes. “I understand. It’s just I would hate to see you…how did you say it?” He bites his lip thoughtfully. “Sacrificed.”

Strahm decides, once and for all, that Mark Hoffman is spooky.

“I appreciate your concern.”

He flings the door open and ducks inside without waiting for a reply.

For the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, Strahm submerges himself in the cold, clinical mire of half a dozen autopsy reports. In the back of his mind, behind the descriptions of catastrophic injury inflicted on the human body, he is elbow-deep in a dissection of his own.

He replays the conversation in his head again and again like a microcassette tape, trying to pinpoint the moment when Hoffman shifted in his estimation. He tries to reconcile fact and gut feeling and is left wanting from every angle. The thing about fishing–you only ever see what takes the bait. What passes it by lives on unknown.

All the while, from the time he shuts himself in his office to the moment his head hits the hotel pillow, Strahm tries to shake the feeling he's being watched.

He doesn't succeed.

#peter strahm #mark hoffman #peter strahm fanfiction #mark hoffman fanfiction #saw fanfiction #literally so jittery about posting this sksnfjdndks it's not even x reader!! it's just new and scary!!!#it was so much fun to write tho. oh google docs we're really in it now

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 6 months

Text

You Ain’t Woman Enough [To Take My Man]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Reader, Original Female Character, Can be Kathy Westmoreland if you want

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4106

Summary: You’ve come to tell me something, you say I ought to know.

Tags/Warnings: Established Relationship, Reader Has A Name, Marriage, Cheating, Adultery, Affairs, Serial Cheating, Kissing, Nudity, Shower Stuff, Guilt, Angst, Hell Hath No Fury etc etc, Song Fic, You Ain’t Woman Enough [To Take My Man] // Loretta Lynn

Notes: Ive decided to use actual names instead of YN in these reader Fics x

ELVIS MASTERLIST // SONG LINK // HALLOWEEN MASTERLIST

The suite was quiet as you entered, almost perfectly still just as your husband had left it. The curtains were closed though you doubted they’d even been opened today and the air conditioning was on making the room a crisp sixty-eight degrees. It made you shiver. After all, you had spent weeks back at home alone getting used to being in rooms that didn’t feel like a meat locker. Still, as the goosebumps formed on your flesh and the scent of his cologne hit your nostrils you were happy to be there. As you moved through the room you noticed your suitcase had already made it upstairs and though you knew you only had a small amount of time to get downstairs before Elvis went back on for his second show you didn’t find yourself rushing. No, even though you were happy to be reunited after weeks apart you wanted to at least look presentable so you heaved your suitcase up onto the bed so that you could rifle through it. However you had only managed to pull a couple of items out when you heard the door open and expecting it to be one of the boys you turned around ready to tell them you’d not be long. Yet when you looked around you found it wasn’t one of the boys at all, it was another woman, one you didn’t recognise.

She crept in, straightening up once she turned around and found you watching her, a blush on her sun-kissed cheeks.

‘Oh sorry,’ she mumbled, ‘I didn’t know anyone was in here.’

‘It’s fine. Can I help you?’ you replied.

‘No, it’s um nothing,’ she said dropping her gaze to the floor as she ran a hand through her blown-out brunette locks, ‘it’s fine I was just-’

‘Looking for Elvis?’ you asked which finally made her bright blue eyes snap up to meet yours, guilt swimming through them as they stared back at you.

‘No, uh,’ she said no doubt scrambling for an excuse yet you were quicker, having been down this road before you had learned to distinguish between the two types of women who circulated around your husband. Those who could be trusted and those who couldn’t. And those who couldn’t all seemed to harbour the same actions whenever you were around, watching you with wide-eyed guilt, dropping their gazes, or feigning stupidity or ignorance. Whether it was for your benefit or theirs you weren’t sure but sometimes, when Elvis wasn’t around, you grew tired of it. You grew tired of pretending not to know why a woman would be sneaking into your husband's private suite, not when you knew that there was no way your husband would’ve allowed her to come anywhere near his room tonight. No, he would’ve orchestrated it so that your paths never crossed which meant that her presence here was of her own choosing and so you decided to do away with pretences.

‘So what are you doing in his suite then? You’re aware it’s private, right?’ you challenged which appeared to make something change inside her, whatever coyness she had been going to attempt disappearing, an attitude in its place. Ah, you realised. She’s one of them. As you had become an expert in fishing out the woman who couldn’t be trusted you had also started to put them into categories. There were the innocent ones, the ones who fell for his charm and charisma like you had many moons ago and even though they knew it was wrong they succumbed all the same, guilt coursing through them at the mere thought of you. There were bold ones, ones who weren’t really expecting whatever they had to go anywhere but were making the most of it whilst they still had his attention. They too had guilt but it was different, rationalised that at the end of the day, he still chose you. And then there were ambitious ones, ones that had fallen for him too but now sought to lay claim. Ones that didn’t feel guilty because in their eyes you were the other woman, the one keeping them from what they wanted. These were the worst of the bunch, mostly because they almost always sought to make it sure that you were aware of their presence. Hence why she was standing in front of you. Indisputable proof.

‘If you must know he asked to see me,’ she said, folding her arms across her chest. You eyed her for a minute, musing over the fact you’d probably seen more fabric on one of your daughter's dolls than she was had on right now though she’d probably spent hours agonising over just what to wear. For both yours and Elvis’s attention presumably. As you finally caught her eye you found she was watching you exasperatedly, no doubt wondering why you hadn't torn into her. Wondering how you could remain calm when both of you knew what was going on. Sometimes you wondered how you could do it yourself but to see how your lack of reaction was getting under her skin you continued, the only words that you offered were, ‘Oh sure.’

‘He did,’ she said snappily making you smile.

‘Honey my husband is many things but he isn't stupid,’ you said moving back to your suitcase so that you could continue unpacking. To come here and goad you was one thing, to distract you from the task at hand was another.

‘What's that supposed to mean?’ she asked.

‘It means that he asked me to come to Vegas today. Do you really think he’d risk having another woman in his room?’ you said, turning around as you folded a dress over your arm. Her face went cold then, any trace of guilt wiped from it confirming your suspicions she had chosen to do this off her own back, ‘no. My bet is you thought now was a good time to come and tell me the truth right?’

You waited, looking at her expectantly as you continued to unpack. When she didn’t say anything, you sighed and said, ‘Well go on then. I haven’t got all day to wait around for whatever you’re gonna say.’

‘Elvis and I are dating,’ she said proudly, a smile tugging at her lips.

‘Is that right?’ you asked, finally stopping in your movements to look at her.

‘Yeah it is,’ she said, ‘have been for a while.’

‘Wow,’ you said sarcastically, ‘and uh, let me guess he loves you? Promised you the world you and you're just here to let me know before it all gets outta hand?’

‘It’s the right thing to do,’ she said.

‘And is dropping your panties for a married man also the right thing to do?’ you asked. You refused to show your irritation outwardly but it didn’t half stick in your craw whenever they laid on the martyr act. The girls-girl only looking out for your best interests, like they had been thinking of you and your family when they’d let him talk his way into their beds.

‘Look I didn’t have to come here. I didn’t have to tell you,’ she started making your irritation crash like a wave inside you, finally seeping out into your tone.

‘Oh but you wanted to right?’ you challenged, ‘that’s why you came looking for me when you knew I’d be here alone. Let me guess you’re just letting me know so I can plan ahead. Bow out gracefully, right?’

‘It’s better than being dumped,’ she scoffed.

‘True,’ you said, ‘but then again that would mean me allowing someone to take what's mine. And I can tell you now that'll happen over my dead body.’

‘He doesn’t love you anymore,’ she snapped.

‘Is that right?’ you mused, genuinely trying not to laugh. You knew it wasn’t funny, the idea of your husband lying beside this twenty-something and filling her head with the idea they had a future yet you couldn’t help but laugh. Because they fell for it every time.

You knew how of course. It was that same silver tongue that had gotten you into his bed, the ring on your finger, the marriage that you had. He had wormed his way into your life the way he did to theirs but there were differences because for all the promises he gave them, he gave you twenty more. For all the times he told them he loved them he made sure you were loved in every way possible. It wasn’t exactly painless, the idea that he could flout your marriage vows so easily would always hurt, but you had learned to deal with it because you knew that they didn’t mean anything, not really. Because time and time again you were the one he chose. Maybe you were a fool to let him. To turn a blind eye to it all. But when it was over, when he’d had his fill of whatever contact or affection he needed he always came back, more the man you married than before.

‘He told me he just wants out,’ she sneered, ‘he just doesn’t want to pay you your money.’

‘Honey,’ you said knowing full well your tone was fully laced with condescension but unable to care, ‘if you believe that you’re dumber than a box of rocks.’

She scoffed at that, her mouth falling into a tight scowl that made it look foreign against her pretty features. You sighed before you said, ‘you think I’m lying? More to the point do you really think you’re the first?’

At that her face flicked with uncertainty, your words calling into question whatever she had assumed to be fact, casting doubt she hadn't anticipated. It was cruel really and if she hadn't been so cocky, so determined to ruin your life, you might’ve even taken pity on her. After all, she was just a kid, one whose head had been filled with nonsense that she was too naïve to see couldn’t possibly be the truth.

‘Do you really think that if he wanted to go he wouldn’t just leave? That if he was so unhappy with me I’d force him to stay? He knows that if he doesn’t want to be in this marriage I sure as hell wont force him to be. And I'm sure whatever money he has to pay for our family he could earn back in a minute,’ you said. Again you watched as pain flicked across her features, guilt finally settling with her at the mention of your kids. Yet you didn’t let up. You refused to, ‘he has no intention of leaving me and whatever yarn he spins to get you into bed is between you and him. Hell darlin’, he’s probably as surprised as I am that it actually works.’

At that you offered a small laugh one that made her brows knit together as she tried to hold back whatever emotions she was feeling in front of you. It almost made you feel sorry for her. Almost. Yet you still needed to make sure she got the picture.

‘Elvis loves me and why his head may get turned every now and then he always comes crawling back, promising it won’t happen again until the next young thing in a tight skirt walks by,’ you said, ‘now a weaker woman would probably give up on him but I’m not weak and I sure as hell ain't gonna step aside and watch you ruin my marriage you hear me?’

She stayed quiet, that scowl still on her face though it looked as though it was holding back whatever she was scared to let burst out of her in front of you. Whether that anger or tears you weren’t sure. If anything you didn’t really care, you had said your piece. Though for whatever reason you felt the tiniest amount of compassion swill in you. After all, you were a seasoned veteran in the game of loving Elvis Presley, didn’t it fall to you to show her the ropes?

‘I will however offer you some advice,’ you said finally turning away from her and continuing with what you were doing before she came in, a slight act of mercy that allowed her to release the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. You heard it come out, shaky and pathetic, before her voice cut it off, her words coming out snarky as she replied, ‘Oh yeah, what's that?’

‘Don’t tell him you came here tonight,’ you said and as you pulled out a stunning blue dress, deciding that would be what you would wear at tomorrow night's show you heard her scoff.

‘Why afraid it’ll make him kick you to the kerb?’ she said, the scowl she had perfected back in full force as you turned around. You didn’t bother moving towards her, instead, you moved to the closet, sliding the door back until your husband’s vast wardrobe was on show, your dress slotting in perfectly next to his clothes, an action that made her eye twitch with irritation.

‘Oh honey,’ you said with a condescending smile, ‘it’s not me I’m scared for.’

And with that final remark she stormed from the room, slamming the door so hard behind her that the sliding door of the closet rattled in its tracks. You however couldn’t bring yourself to offer more than an eyeroll, her actions reminding you of your daughter who had a tendency to pitch a similar style of fit whenever she didn’t get her own way though of course she had the excuse of being three years old. You knew you should probably let it bother you. That the idea of another woman coming to tell you your husband didn’t want you any more should shake you to your core but it didn’t. You refused to let it because if you did it now you'd have to let it every damn time he conceded to be weak. And you refused to be weak too.

After that you busied yourself with unpacking and though you did head downstairs you made sure it was when Elvis was on stage, after all, there were things more interesting to you tonight than your husband's performance. Like finding out just who the girl was. That was how you’d come to find him on stage with her, laughing and joking as if nothing had even happened. And in an instant any thought you’d had about playing nice left your body because you had meant what you said. You weren’t going to stand aside and let her take him but now you were actively going to ensure she didn’t have the chance.

That thought came to you again later that night as you heard him call your name, the bathroom door opening as he said, ‘Lor, ya in here?’

‘In here,’ you called listening as he moved into the bathroom, clothes dropping to the floor as he went before you finally heard the glass door click open and then shut as his naked body slid in behind you, his arms ensnaring your waist.

‘Hi there,’ he mumbled as his lip met your neck.

‘Hi,’ you breathed sinking into him as he peppered kisses along your shoulder before you felt his hand snake down your slippery skin cupping your sex which caused you to shriek, ‘Elvis!’

‘I missed ya,’ he said as if it was your own fault not to have expected it.

‘I can see,’ you giggled wiggling your ass against his cock that was already growing rigid against you.

‘Joe told me you got here in between shows,’ he said his arousal not yet pressing enough that he felt the need to forgo chit-chat, ‘how come ya didn’t come down?

‘Oh I did but you know how it is when you haven’t seen folks in a while. I ended up bumping into people and we just got chatting,’ you said. That wasn’t untrue. You had spoken to some people, using carefully selected questions to get the information you craved without alerting them to what you were up to. You see you hadn’t been lying when you had told her to be careful. After all, you had done this dance a hundred times before and you knew all the steps. You knew if you challenged Elvis about his behaviour it would only get ugly. No, you needed to be smart. To orchestrate the situation so you got what you wanted but he was the one who felt like he had made the decision. And that was a skill you’d become an expert at.

‘Are they more important than me?’ he said and for a moment you were glad you were facing away from him, your expression liable to give you away as you thought about how he prioritised people in his life.

‘Of course not,’ you said, ‘but I knew I’d have you all to myself soon so I figured I’d play nice. Let them have you while they can.’

‘Ever the diplomat,’ he mused, his lips moving back to your neck for a moment. You knew now was the time to broach it, with him happy and pliant coming off the buzz of the show and the excitement of having you back. Yet you needed to do it carefully and so as he kissed you, you picked at your nails, removing the non-existent dirt from under them as you said, ‘but it wasn’t all bad. Actually, I got talking to one of your band members.’

‘Yeah?’ he asked, stopping his actions and resting his chin on your shoulder as he watched you carefully.

‘Yeah I don’t think we’ve met before though,’ you said, ‘they must be new.’

‘Yeah, there’s a couple of new faces around. We lucked onto some good talent for this season,’ he agreed.

‘Mmm, pretty too,’ you said, and though your words were casual you felt him stiffen, ‘I think her name is Kathy?’

‘Oh?’ he asked airily and though you could feel the heat of his blue eyes watching you you kept your face casual.

‘We had a nice chat,’ you said, ‘she told me you’ve really made this gig special.’

‘That right?’ he asked flatly.

‘Mmmhmm,’ you said.

‘Lori,’ he said ruefully.

‘I just think it’s a shame,’ you said continuing as though he hadn't spoken.

‘A shame?’ he asked confused.

‘Yeah well I know I said I didn’t manage to see the show before I came back up here but I caught some of it and well to think of her stuck being backing vocals when she could be great on her own is just a shame. Don’t you think?’ you asked.

‘Yeah,’ he said quietly, ‘yeah you’re right.’

‘I sure think so,’ you agreed. You could feel him hesitate behind you, no doubt trying to figure out exactly what you knew or whether to let it go but after a minute he pulled back and you turned to look at him for the first time since he had gotten in.

‘Everything alright?’ you asked with a frown that forced him to fake a smile and nod.

‘Yeah, I’m gonna get out okay?’ he said.

‘Okay,’ you said, placing a wet hand on his chest that he grabbed, taking it to his lips so he could kiss your fingertips. A feat that brought a genuine smile to your face.

‘Do you want food?’ he asked.

‘Yes please,’ you said.

‘Okay,’ he said leaning in to kiss you properly before he said, ‘take your time. I’ll order for us both.’

‘Okay,’ you smiled.

And then he was gone, moving from the room at lightning speed only just managing to throw a towel around his waist as he headed to the phone, yanking the receiver from its cradle before he punched in the number he wanted rather harshly. It didn’t take long for the line to connect, a sweet young voice saying, ‘hello?’

‘You told my wife?’ he asked in an angry whisper, listening to Kathy as she scrambled to sit up.

‘It wasn’t like that-’ she protested.

‘What the hell did you say to her?’ he snapped.

‘Not much I promise,’ she exclaimed.

‘How could you go behind my back like that?’ he said angrily.

‘But I thought-’

‘What that if you meddled in my business I’d just fall into line? That I’d just up and leave my wife because you’d decided you’d had enough-’

‘No of course not!’ she cried.

‘Because that’s not how this shit works you hear me? And if you don’t get that then maybe I was wrong about you,’ he spat.

‘Elvis,’ she whispered but he was on a roll. Too angry to bother listening.

‘You know what? We’re done,’ he snapped.

‘Elvis-’ he heard her whimper but he had already slammed the phone back onto the hook anger bubbling through him until he heard you say, ‘was that room service?’

‘What?’ he asked turning to find you standing in the bathroom doorway, unaware as to how much you had heard though on the off chance it might have been nothing he said, ‘uh no… the uh line was busy.’

‘Shoot,’ you frowned.

‘It’s okay,’ he said, ‘I’ll call down in a minute.’

You smiled and nodded, padding into the room and climbing into bed dressed in the nightie you had donned in the time since he had left the bathroom. Elvis watched you, wondering how you could be so calm when he was sure that you knew if not all at least some of it. As you offered him a sweet smile he felt his heart tug, the guilt creeping in as it did every time. He moved to throw his towel on a chair in the corner, changing into the pyjamas you’d lovingly laid out for him like the good wife you were. As he slipped in beside you, allowing you to cuddle into him for the first time in weeks, that thought consumed him.

He didn’t know why he did it. How his head could get turned time and time again when you were all he could’ve ever asked for. You were the perfect wife, the perfect mother, a friend, a lover and yet he never felt satisfied. Time and time again he’d think that the grass was greener only to find that they weren’t you. And so he’d come crawling back, begging for forgiveness. At least he used to, now it was this complicated dance the two of you did. The one where you pretended not to know what he had been doing so long as he nipped it in the bud when you asked. It was a flawed system but it was one that seemed to hurt you less. And if he couldn’t stop himself from hurting you, he’d at least try and make it somewhat better. He knew he was weak but he could give you that much. Which is why when you looked at him with knowing eyes and words that hovered around accusation but never landed he knew it was time to move on.

‘You know I’ve been thinkin’,’ he said clearing his throat which made you look up towards him, ‘about what you said.'

‘About what baby?’ you said laughing to yourself how you made fun of his floozies for feigning innocence when you were better at it than any of them.

‘Ka-’ he said stumbling over her name and instead opting for, ‘my backing singer.’

‘Oh?’ you asked, your fingers playing with his chest hair as you waited for him to tell you what you knew was coming.

‘Yeah, you’re right. She’s talented…maybe she’d be better tryin’ to get her own solo thing goin’,’ he said.

‘Oh no doubt,’ you agreed.

‘Maybe I’ll give one of the talent scouts in LA a call tomorrow,’ he said hesitantly, ‘help her out ya know.’

‘Why aren’t you sweet,’ you mused, your nervous heart finally settling as everything clicked into place. You knew it was harsh. You knew that you should’ve just been satisfied with him breaking up with her but as you pictured her smug face, the one that had expected you to roll over you couldn’t help but smile.

‘I just wanna help,’ Elvis said.

‘Well I’m sure it will. Sometimes people just need a helping hand you know,’ you said.

‘Yeah, I know.’

Women like you they're a dime a dozen you can buy 'em anywhere,

For you to get to him I'd have to move over and I'm gonna stand right here,

It'll be over my dead body so get out while you can,

Cause you ain't woman enough to take my man.

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @artlesson8892 @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @presleyenterprise @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @lettersfromvenus @louisejoy86 @ccab

#my writing #elvis #elvis presley #you aint woman enough #song fic #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis fic #elvis presley fic #halloween challenge #halloween

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wttcsms · 1 year

Note

Hihi i saw ur request box was open & i just couldnt resist! A big confession to make here, uhh ive been such a big fan of u and yr writings and also u were the v first fanfic blog i came across a couple years ago so yea, u literally open my third eye to a whole new world of fics👉👈 🥺

i feel like you havent written angst in a while–and bc i miss ur angsty haikyuu fics– sooo could i request post-breakup college!au with atsumu or iwai (honestly anyone who'd best fit the scenario cuz i trust ur characterization👌) abt the aftermath of the breakup, them seeing us on campus and unconsciously following us with their eyes, reschin to help out on instinct only to realize theyre no longer together, thinking about what could've been just reminisce reminisce

ahhhh im sry honestly dont know how to expand more on the idea

thank you for stealing my ficvirginity😃

pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 2.1k content contains exes still in love, college!au, mutual pining author's notes hi <3 i remember you (eycee, right?). don't be a stranger! you can always dm me and say hello :) thank you for the constant support. not sure if this fic is angsty enough, but i wanted yours to be the first req i do <3

“Hi, welcome in! Let me know if— Oh.”

Your voice falters, recognition and maybe even something similar to embarrassment flits across your face, and a split second later, you go back to smiling like nothing’s wrong. Like the two of you haven’t spent the better half of this month actively avoiding each other at all costs, even though the sprawling acres of the University of Tokyo suddenly feels too small. The entirety of Japan has felt too small ever since it became his mission to never cross paths with you ever again.

This mission of his started just a little over two weeks ago, on the very same day you decide to use his heart as your own punching bag. The worst part of it all, though, is the fact that he doesn’t even hold any type of contempt for you. It’s a cruel sort of joke; sometimes, Atsumu Miya feels like everything bad that happens to him is just some sort of sick punchline in a sitcom instead of real life.

Usually, when girlfriends find out their high school sweetheart is going to be a wildly successful (and rich) professional athlete, they’ll do anything in their power to hang onto him.

You decided to snip the invisible string tying the two of you together, and you did it so effortlessly, so quickly, that Atsumu had to make sure that he hadn’t been imagining the last four years of your relationship.

He’s got his hands shoved in his pockets, and he’s torn between staring at you like a total creep or looking at everything in the campus bookstore but you. He settles for the former, scared that this will be his last opportunity to really look at you.

Neither of you is saying anything. It’s a Saturday and so no one else is even in the bookstore this morning, and Atsumu wants to say something, anything, but he’s never been that great at carefully picking his words, and he’s scared out of his mind that he’ll say something stupid and prove once and for all that you had been right to break up with him. Better yet, he wants you to say something. He wants you to give him a better explanation instead of the bullshit you told him in his apartment.

We just want different things.

What does that even mean? He thinks he would have shouted out that question, if only your little break up speech hadn’t caught him so off guard. Different things? The two of you wanted different things? Sure, Atsumu likes to sleep in a freezing cold apartment, and you need the room to actually be at a reasonable temperature. And maybe Atsumu has a penchant for overly fried, greasy foods when all you want (and deserve) is a fancy dinner. Maybe Atsumu wants to be at a sports store instead of browsing aisle after aisle in Sephora, but he doubts these different wants have accumulated so much that you felt you had no choice but to break his heart.

“Hey, Miya.” You say it softly, dropping the perky customer service voice you greeted him with before you turned around and realized who he was. And he flinches. He fucking visibly cringes at the way you speak to him, walking on eggshells and going back to formalities like he’s barely above a stranger to you.

Miya.

(Did you know that he wanted to make that your last name?

Do you know that he still does, even now?)

“Hey,” he replies back, curling his fingers into fists inside his pocket. He thinks his voice comes out all scratchy, like how it always sounds when you don’t use your voice nearly enough. He clears his throat awkwardly. Everything feels awkward; everything feels wrong. He says “hey”, but what he really means to say is please don’t call me Miya; you know the color of my toothbrush, you don’t have to call me Miya.

“Were you looking for something?”

You.

Subconsciously, Atsumu finds himself seeking you out. He walks by another girl on campus and almost breaks his neck with the speed he turns around to catch a whiff of the perfume wafting from her body because he swears it’s the same fragrance you favor. He walks by the building that houses all the classrooms for your specific major, even though it’s located on the opposite side of his own classes because he secretly hopes against all hope that he’ll run into you, and you’ll see him and fall in love with him again. He goes to the same restaurants the two of you frequently ate at together, and he orders your usual because you can never finish your entire meal and always have him finish off the leftovers for you (and the food is always good, but somehow it doesn’t taste the same when your utensils haven’t touched it first). And he doesn’t even need to be here, doesn’t even care enough about his stupid class to go out of his way to buy the study guide, but he knows you’ve started picking up the weekend shifts at the campus bookstore, and suddenly, he cares enough about passing to get the damn study guide.

He shrugs. “Just some stupid workbook to study for an upcoming exam, but it’s not that serious.”

“Oh. Is Dr. Furata giving you a hard time again?”

“How do you do that?” Atsumu blurts out, wanting to kick himself for giving too much of himself away. You already own every centimeter of his heart and maybe his soul. You don’t need anything else from him; he’s almost certain there’s nothing left for him to give you, but he can’t help but impulsively ask the damn question that’s been running through his mind ever since you left him behind.

Did you know that when you’re confused, your brows furrow together, and you get this adorable, endearing crinkle in between them? Do you know that he still finds that same expression as cute as he did when you still called yourself his girlfriend?

“What are you talking about?”

How can you just stand there and act like you never crushed his heart? How do you wake up in the morning and not feel like your life is missing something important, like you’ll never feel whole again? How can you keep him wrapped around your finger, and then have the audacity to not even realize it? How did you let him go so quickly?

Practicing caution, he swallows hard before clarifying, “How do you know everything?” Because if you can act like he’s just a polite acquaintance, like he’s nothing more than another fellow classmate, he can try to play pretend too. He can act like there’s not enough history between the two of you to fill up every damn textbook in this stupid store. “Yeah, Dr. Furata’s been on everyone’s ass. Somethin’ about midterm grades being worth a quarter of our overall grade.”

“Believe me, you’re not the first victim of Dr. Furata’s to come wandering in the store. I think I have a few more of the workbooks he suggested in stock. Let me go check.”

It’s instinct at this point for Atsumu to just follow you. If he uses his imagination, it’s almost like he’s back to browsing in a makeup store, walking aimlessly in every aisle, following you loyally because he’s happy to have you lead the way and he doesn’t care where he ends up, so long as you’re there with him.

But this isn’t an afternoon date with you. This is him following a bookstore employee. After you find that study guide, which is really nothing more than his flimsy excuse for seeking you out, you’re going to ask him “card or cash?”, ring him up at the register, and he’s going to walk out that door and have to act like he’s still not in love with you. All the while, you’re doing fine. You’re fine right now, and you’re going to be fine when he leaves, and you’re probably going to be fine, five years down the line, when you’re happy with someone else and Atsumu is alone because in this little hypothetical, he still hasn’t gotten over you.

He is trailing behind you in this bookstore, and your back is facing him, and he’s panicking because he doesn’t think he’s capable of not loving you.

Just two weeks ago, you knew him better than anyone else in the world, maybe even better than Osamu, perhaps even better than he knows himself. Now, you just give him a polite smile as you grab the small stool to reach the books located at the very top of the shelf.

“God, I hate the way we organize everything in the store.” You say, lightheartedly complaining. He knows you do. He knows because he’s known you for nearly a decade. The two of you have grown up together. You made this same complaint sprawled out on the couch in his apartment.

When he doesn’t reply, you look down to see if something’s the matter, only to do it too quickly that you find yourself losing your balance. Before you can come crashing to the floor, Atsumu is quick to catch you, and you pretend that his protective embrace isn’t comforting. You pretend not to notice that he’s wearing the cologne you bought him for Christmas last year, and you continue to pretend that you don’t miss him at all, that you don’t still love him.

And for a second, the two of you both pretend that you’re still with each other. That it’s perfectly okay to savor this intimate moment, that his arms wrapped around your body right now isn’t awkward in the slightest. He’s staring at you with a sort of starstruck, boylike wonder, and it’s so familiar, so sweet, because it’s the way he always used to look at you. His lips part slightly, like he’s about to say something, and—

The loud ring! interrupts whatever moment the two of you are sharing, and you nearly jump out of his arms. You hear the distinct footsteps of another student, and you adjust your shirt before remembering where the two of you are — what the two of you are. Not a couple. Barely even friends. Just a bookstore employee and a student that needs a book. That’s all the two of you are allowed to be.

“I should probably go check up front and make sure they don’t need any help.” You tell him, biting down on your lip. “Anyway, did you need anything else, or would you like me to check you out right now?”

He blinks a few times, as if still in a daze. “Uh, yeah, sure.” The tips of his ears are flushed a light pink. “Y-yeah, I’m done here.”

The two of you practically race each other to the front of the store, and you step behind the counter to scan his workbook. He drums his fingers, looking around the store. When he’s nervous, he likes to be moving. You know this.

Just looking for an excuse to use his hands, Atsumu mindlessly picks a pack of gum off a nearby rack and slides it towards you so you can also scan it. You know you shouldn’t say it. You know it’s supposed to be a clean break. Instead, you tell him,

“Actually, if you want, I have the fruit variety flavor.”

“Huh?” This catches his attention.

You reach into one of the boxes that have just been shipped to the store, rummaging through a tiny one before revealing a shiny, new package of gum, this one advertising all the flavors based on tropical fruits. “Would you rather have this one?”

“Oh, yeah!” As if truly forgetting what the two of you actually are (exes, strangers with too much history, two people still pretending like they’re not in love), his eyes light up. “How did you kno—” He doesn’t finish the question. He knows the answer to the question.

You’re quick to finish ringing him up, the “polite strangers” illusion being completely shattered. It’s obvious, really, that there are always going to be parts of Atsumu that still live deep inside of you. You can only hope that this isn’t the case for him.

You hand him the bag, and when he grabs it from you, your fingers just barely graze each other’s. Atsumu is scared — scared that this might be the last time he ever feels your touch.

And because you’re a glutton for punishment, you find yourself telling him,

“Don’t be a stranger.”

You can’t tell who’s more devastated: you or him.

#atsumu miya x reader #miya x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #hq angst #one shot #drabble #imagine #haikyuu fanfiction #wttcsms writing warmups #this fic is so taylor coded btw #'please don't ever become a stranger's whose laugh i could recognize anywhere'#< that's literally reader n atsumu rn #wanted to leave it vague but #reader breaks up w atsumu bc they're both going in diff directions in life and she doesn't want to 'hold him back'#EVEN THOUGH ATSUMU WOULD REARRANGE HIS WHOLE LIFE FOR HER AND FOLLOW HER ANYWHERE #but she wants him to do whatever HE wants

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