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#have a new book arriving tomorrow yes yes yes yes
obsob · 2 years
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yes i am getting emails 
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demonpiratehuntress · 4 months
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can we...cuddle?
Trafalgar Law x F!Reader
summary - Law really wants to cuddle with you, but he's just not that good at asking for it.
warnings - not proofread, wrote it at 23:30 on New Year's Eve, pretty tired from an eventful day. also wanted to get it out before my tribute to Ace for his birthday at 12am.
a/n - fluff fluff fluff, this just popped into my head because i was thinking about soft!law and how much i love him
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Law had never been great at asking for anything he needs or wants. He was either too prideful or too embarrassed, depending on the situation. And with you, the embarrassment part seemed a lot more prominent, because he was starting to feel unusually clingy and needy for your attention and affection. It was embarrassing.
He has an issue with outright asking for it, though. He's usually a put-together, calm man who is always in control of what he feels and how he acts. However, around you, his body seems to forget that and his mind and heart both yearn for yours. He wants to be the only thing you think of, he wants to be the only one you love and show affection to, and he wants to be the only one you ever hold.
But he could never gather up the courage to ask you to hold him, damn it!
He would see you cuddling Bepo, and envy the bear for one of two things. One, for being so easily approachable for cuddles. Two, for being able to ask you for cuddles so easily. Law wasn't the jealous type, but he'd quickly learned that when he started dating you, he'd feel and do a lot of things he'd never dreamed of before.
"You okay, Law?"
Your soft voice brought him out of his irritated thoughts, and his expression softened considerably when his eyes landed on you. You looked tired, your eyes were drooping and your body was slumping, and Law had never seen anything cuter.
"Yes, (Name)-ya." He gently grabbed your elbow, leading you away. "Let's get you to bed now, sleepyhead."
You smiled at that, giggling in the most adorable way that had Law's heart flipping in his chest. He was both amazed and annoyed that you held such power over him, but he wouldn't have it any other way.
"I'm not sleepy, you're sleepy."
He chuckled at that, guiding you into the room you both shared. For once, his work went ignored on the desk as he steered you towards the bed, his tense body only relaxing when you were safely lying on the mattress, pulling him down beside you.
"(Name)-ya-" He started, but you were already softly snoring, gripping onto his shirt like a baby. He would never admit it out loud, but the sight was enough to melt even his frigid heart.
He sighed. Another failed attempt at asking for cuddles. He got the cuddles anyway, but he wanted to be the one asking so he could show you that he craved your touch as much as you craved his.
The next time he tried to ask, you were laying in bed reading a book as you waited for him to finish working.
Once he was sick of whatever he was doing, he got up and slowly made his way to the bed, kicking off his shoes and discarding his coat before flopping down next to you. So preoccupied by your book, you hadn't noticed his arrival.
"What are you reading, (Name)-ya?"
You jumped in fright, the book flying out of your hands and settling on the floor next to the bed. Law's deep rumble of laughter met your ears, and you blushed in embarrassment, smacking his arm lightly and playfully.
"Law! Don't do that!"
"I'm sorry," he apologised insincerely, smirking. "You're so easy to scare."
You pouted, "You're mean."
"You love me anyway," his chest swelled at the fact.
"I do, I very much do," you smiled, heart warming.
You leaned over the side of the bed to pick your book up, but when you got back up you were met with a sleeping Law laying next to you. It was rare for him to fall asleep before you, but you knew he had been working himself non-stop, even more so than usual lately. You smiled softly, setting your book aside and thinking you'll find your page tomorrow as you shifted closer to the slumbering doctor, curling up close to him.
Law woke up the next day feeling incredibly disappointed. He had fallen asleep before he could even try asking you to cuddle him. He'd woken up to you cuddling him, but he still felt displeased by his irritating inability to state his need for your touch.
You woke up a little later in the morning, to a steaming cup of coffee on the nightstand. You smiled, knowing that was one of Law's ways of showing he cared. He couldn't cook, but he could make you coffee and did so every morning he woke up before you. Which, let's be real, is almost every morning. On the rare occasion you wake up before him, you have a full breakfast ready for him and a planned speech on how he should not feel guilty for not being able to do the same for you.
"Good morning, love."
You looked up at a working Law, hunched over his desk as he furiously scribbled something in his notebook. Your smile grew, and you slowly sat up in bed.
"Morning, captain."
He groaned, "I call you love and you call me captain?"
You giggled, "Sorry, my love. My baby. My one and only."
He hummed in satisfaction, "Much better." The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.
You didn't mind much that he wasn't looking at you. He was paying attention to what you were saying, and that was more than enough for you. You knew how he could get, and had learned a long time ago to embrace and accept it.
"What will you do today?" He suddenly asked, a tad bit nervously.
"Well," you began, "Seeing as we are docked at an island and you're allowing everyone to take the day off, I think I might just stay right here in bed all day."
"Is that so?" He asked, amused. "How lazy."
You laughed at his teasing, the sound going straight to his heart. It swelled in response, growing warm in his chest. Your laugh was one of the few things that Law genuinely loved to listen to. He liked the way it made him feel, but also the fact that he had been the one to cause it.
"Very," you agreed. "But it's fun, you should try it sometime."
He finally turned to you, raising an eyebrow, "Oh? Are you giving me orders, (Name)-ya?" His tone was teasing, his smile wicked.
"Hmmm, maybe," you taunted, grinning.
The doctor let out a heavy sigh, before a calm smile tugged at his lips. Pushing his work aside, he got up from his seat and walked over to the bed, gingerly sitting on the edge.
"I suppose I can indulge you just this once, then. Since no one is around to hear just how bossy you really are."
You laughed at that, eagerly shifting to make space for him, "What can I say? Sometimes my captain needs a little bossing to relax a little bit."
He chuckled, "I don't deny that."
Then, again, Law found himself struggling to ask for your touch. He wanted to ask you to cuddle him so badly, but he just couldn't bring himself to say the words. Finally, after a few minutes of comfortable silence, he tried his best.
"(Name)-ya," he started nervously, "I like that thing you do...where you pull me close and hug me...but in bed." He waited for you to say something, but you remained silent but smirking, as if you knew what he wanted but you just wanted him to say it. He swallowed thickly. "You know where...you wrap your arms around me and keep me against your warm body." He blushed at his own words.
"Hmmm, what might you be speaking of, babe?" You teased him, evil grin on your face.
He sighed, taking off his hat and running a hand through his dark hair, "I'm trying to say...I mean I want to ask...do you-can we...can we cu-" He paused, silently mouthing the word. "Cuddle? Can we cuddle?"
Your eyes widened, because you hadn't really expected him to say it. Then you smiled and happily opened your arms for the flustered doctor. He obliged, sinking into them just as happily, a contented sigh leaving his lips.
"Law?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm really glad you finally asked."
"Me too."
And from then on, Law wasn't shy to ask, he wasn't shy to pull you aside and just hug you, and he wasn't shy to show you that he needed to touch you just as much as you needed to touch him.
Congratulations, you unlocked Clingy Trafalgar Law.
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mj-iza-writer · 1 month
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"Alright my dear, it's time for bed", Caretaker smiled as they approached the couch where Whumpee was laying.
"But, um", Whumpee looked down at the book they were reading. They made a puzzled face at Caretaker.
"What do you want to say Whumpee? Go ahead", Caretaker encouraged. They were happy to see Whumpee communicate more often now.
"My book, I'm almost done", Whumpee held it up, "can I.... um may I?", asking for things was still a struggle for Whumpee though. It was a new concept for someone to actually care about what Whumpee wanted.
"Do you want a couple extra minutes to finish the book Whumpee?", Caretaker eyed the book curiously, "it does look like you have a few more pages."
"Ye-yes please", Whumpee relaxed. Fully thankful Caretaker had figured it out.
"Okay", Caretaker nodded, "thankyou for asking. I'll go get your bed turned down."
Whumpee made a frightened face, "please no. I'll finish reading tomorrow if you want me to. Please don't do that to my b..... wait, I'm sorry. I have no right asking that much.. please forgive", Whumpee struggled to catch their breath.
Caretaker knelt in front of Whumpee, "Shh, Whumpee what's going on?", they rubbed Whumpee's arm gently, "you can finish your book, I don't mind."
"Y-you said you'd tear down my bed, I was scared that you were mad at me. Then I realized I have no right to even have a bed. Please forgive It."
"Whumpee you misheard me. I'm going to turn down your bed", Caretaker watched Whumpee's face turn to a confused expression.
"Turning down a bed is the opposite of making a bed. You pull back the sheets, fluff up the pillows. Get any stuffies you might want. You get the bed cozy and ready for sleeping", Caretaker smiled, "you absolutely have a right to a bed. Where else would you sleep? The ceiling?"
"Master says a slave's place is on the floor, but they don't need sleep. It was lucky to be allowed to rest it's eyes", Whumpee looked down, "you're not going to tear down the bed?"
"No Whumpee", Caretaker extended their hand, "here, let me show you how to turn down a bed. You can read the rest of your book in the comfort of your bed."
Whumpee nodded as they took Caretaker's hand and followed them to the room.
Caretaker taught them the step by steps.
"Okay climb in, let's see if it is cozy", Caretaker lifted up the last sheet so Whumpee could crawl in.
Caretaker tucked them in and then pulled out a stuffed toy, "can't forget this."
Whumpee excitedly grabbed the stuffie and cuddled it close, "thankyou."
"You are very welcome", Caretaker stood and adjusted the light, "I'll come back and check on you in a few minutes, go ahead and finish the book. Maybe we can go to the library for another one if you'd like."
"Ok", Whumpee smiled, "thankyou so much Caretaker."
"You're welcome dear", Caretaker went to the door and grinned back at Whumpee.
Caretaker finished a few chores before checking on Whumpee again.
Whumpee was still sitting up, but was drooped over to the side.
Caretaker grinned as they slide the book from Whumpee's hands and set it aside. Careful to not lose their place.
They helped Whumpee lay down. Whispering reassuring words so not to startle them too much.
Whumpee squinted their eyes open for a second before nodding off again.
Caretaker continued to whisper while they pulled up the blanket and tucked in Whumpee's stuffed toy.
They turned off the light, then went to turn on Whumpee's nightlight.
Caretaker took in Whumpee's peaceful moans for a few minutes before pulling the door closed halfway.
Caretaker sat for a few minutes documenting the rest of the day before they to got ready for bed.
"Sweet dreams Whumpee", they made one final peak into the bedroom before heading to their room.
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee
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anonymousewrites · 1 month
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Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Twelve
Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader
Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader
Chapter Twelve: Preparing for Battle
Summary: The Hotel trains to fight angels, and (Y/N) goes on a shopping trip with Rosie and Alastor.
            (Y/N) spun the spear around in their hands, letting themself feel the balance. They felt at home with it, ready to defend their friends against the angels that would be arriving tomorrow to try to destroy their souls. Narrowing their eyes, (Y/N) let their briars take the weapon from them. They refused to let the exorcists win. (Y/N) had trained as hard as they could for this—the fight to have an afterlife, to have an existence, to have a family.
            “Well, it seems everyone is coming along nicely,” said Rosie, overseeing her cannibals with approval. She herself would be leaving before the battle to protect more of her people in case the exorcists came for Cannibal Town at all, but she was there to help at the hotel for now.
            “Do you think we have a fighting chance?” said (Y/N), glancing at her.
            “Oh, yes,” said Rosie, grinning sharply. “If anyone can tear these angels apart, it is this group.”
            (Y/N) stood a little taller at that. “I’m ready to fight.”
            Rosie patted them on the shoulder. “Of course you are, sweetheart]! However…” Rosie raised a brow and looked at (Y/N)’s overalls. “Are you sure you wish to go into battle in that?”
            “My clothes?” asked (Y/N) in confusion.
            “Sweetheart, you’re about to be in the greatest fight or your life and afterlife,” said Rosie. “I just know that upstart Vox will be filming everything, and, of course, if you’re going to fight, you should look good doing it.” She pulled (Y/N) to her side. “We’re getting you new clothes.”
            “Is now really the time?” said (Y/N), looking around at everyone training.
            “Certainly,” said Rosie. “Come along, sweetheart. If we’re going into battle, we do it in style! Right, Alastor?”
            He was instantly by his (best and only) friend’s side. “It wouldn’t be a good show without style.”
            “I can’t believe you haven’t taken (Y/N) to our tailor yet,” tsked Rosie as she, (Y/N), and Alastor walked into the city.
            (Y/N) liked walking between them. Alastor was…interesting (intimidating), but they didn’t really mind him, and Rosie was possibly the nicest and warmest woman (Y/N) had ever met. Going shopping was a strange turn of events given the circumstances, but (Y/N) wasn’t opposed since they felt comfortable in their own skin with people for the first time in their life. They were going to explore who they were—clothes, magic, and all.
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            “Here we are!” said Rosie, guiding (Y/N) into a tailor shop. “This is the perfect place for new clothes. Alastor and I have been patrons of this shop since we arrived in Hell, haven’t we?”
            (Y/N) could have told them that. When they had walked in with the two overlords, the other customers had run out in fear, and the workers had immediately stood at the ready to assist them. Luckily, several seemed pleased to have the clientele, so not every experience with Rosie or Alastor had been bad. Unsurprisingly, they could be classy when going about their business.
            “Of course. They have a classier style than some of the modern…attire—” Alastor spoke as if he was calling it trash “—you find around these parts.”
            “It looks expensive,” said (Y/N), looking around at the lovely outfits, yes, but also well-made (which mean they cost money).
            “Auntie Rosie is treating you,” said Rosie proudly. “And if I don’t want to cover everything, I’ll just ask Alastor.” She winked. As his best friend, she could get away with that.
            (Y/N) smiled. “Alright.”
            “Then let’s begin!” Rosie became businesslike. As an Overlord and talented businesswoman, she took presentation seriously, and she was not about to let (Y/N)’s new, made-in-Hell clothes be anything less than excellent. “Alastor, what colors are we thinking?”
            “Red, of course,” said Alastor.
            Rosie nodded approvingly. “Bold, hellish, and it will harmonize with our outfits.”
            (Y/N) had a (pleasant) feeling that they were going to be going around with Rosie and Alastor far more often.
            “Can we get their measurements?” said Alastor, looking at a worker. It was not a request.
            The tailor walked up with his measuring tape, and (Y/N) frowned, stepping back.
            “I, uh, I don’t like to be touched,” said (Y/N), crossing their arms in an instinctive attempt to self-soothe.
            Rosie’s gaze softened. “Would you be comfortable with me doing your measurements, sweetheart?”
            (Y/N) looked at Rosie and gazed into her eyes. For a moment, they didn’t speak. Then, they nodded. (Y/N) would take a chance and trust Rosie—warm and comforting Rosie. They were sure she had her dark side—she was a cannibalistic overlord, after all—but (Y/N) didn’t really care about that. Other parts of who people were felt more important to them. Like Rosie being kind to them. Rosie being respectful.
            “Thank you, sweetheart,” said Rosie, taking the measuring tape from the worker. “Now, just stand still.” She stepped closer and held the measuring tape across (Y/N)’s shoulders, beginning the measurements. “Alastor, what are your opinions on style? (Y/N), your opinions are valid, too. Speak up if you have any ideas.”
            “I don’t like modern clothes,” said Alastor. “I think the style should be more timeless instead of cheap and temporarily ‘trendy’.”
            (Y/N) would have nodded in agreement, but Rosie was measuring their neck, so they decided to speak. “I want to feel put-together. Like I’m strong and I’m here to stay. I don’t want to be overlooked or considered a weak kid who has no idea what they’re doing, anymore.”
            Rosie and Alastor’s grins sharpened. As (Y/N) spoke, they grew more impassioned, their hidden feelings and thoughts that had undoubtedly led to the incident that sent them to Hell coming through. Rosie and Alastor respected that fire.
            “Oh, don’t worry,” said Alastor. “No one is going to say my protégé is weak if I have a say in it.”
            “Sweetheart, it’s time for you to really show Hell and Heaven who you are,” said Rosie, cupping (Y/N)’s cheek.
            “Now, smile!” said Alastor. “No matter what outfit you wear, you’re never fully dressed without one.”
            (Y/N) grinned.
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            “Where the hell were you?” said Vaggie, hands on her hips when (Y/N) and Alastor returned to the hotel (Rosie had headed back to Cannibal Town).
            “Shopping,” said Alastor, his shadows holding up the bags.
            “You went shopping at a time like this?” said Vaggie.
            “I can’t let my protégé go into battle wearing those,” said Alastor, gesturing to (Y/N)’s overalls.
            (Y/N) shrugged and looked at Vaggie. “Rosie insisted.”
            Vaggie sighed. “Alright, alright. Come on, Charlie has a speech.”
            “Very Charlie-like,” said (Y/N), laughing and walking over to the gathering crowd.
            “Alastor, (Y/N), you’re back! Great timing!” said Charlie, not questioning their absence for a moment. “Hey, uh, Alastor, could I borrow your microphone again? I want to make sure everyone can hear me.” Alastor tossed the microphone to her, and Charlie grinned. “Thank you!” She walked on stage and looked out over the crowd.
            “I want to thank everyone for coming,” she began, smiling out at her people. “Even people who aren’t staying here yet…Cherri.”
            “Look, I can’t resist a fight, okay?” said Cherri, grinning. “Especially when I get to tag team with this fuckhead.” She hugged Angel.
            Charlie smiled and addressed the crowd at large again. “Tomorrow, the exorcist angels will face a Hell ready to defend itself and win!”
            “Yeah! Yeah, we will, tell ‘em baby!” cheered Vaggie.
            (Y/N) grinned. They were ready to fight for their home.
            “Yes! And we are-we are going to win!” declared Charlie. She coughed. “But, in case we don’t…I want you all to know that getting to know you has been the biggest honor of my life. Whatever redemption really means…I know you all tried. I have seen the good in all of you.”
            (Y/N) wasn’t too sure about going to Heaven if they were alright with killing sinners’ souls for sport, but they couldn’t help a smile at Charlie’s words. Becoming a better person was good.
            “And it’s…I’m just…I love you all so much,” said Charlie. “And…and live tonight however you want because—”
            “We’re all going to die!” Niffty cackled excitedly.
            Everyone stared at her.
            “Alright, let’s give it up for not dying!” said Vaggie, attempting to salvage the situation. “Love not dying.” She coughed. “Drinks?”
            That was an idea everyone could get behind.
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            (Y/N) held their drink and smiled at the family they’d found. They were in Hell, yes, punished just like the…people on Earth had always told them they’d be. But they were happy. They were living how they wanted, and no one was judging them. They were accepted. In Hell, in the Hazbin Hotel, (Y/N) was home.
            “I mean, personally, I’m excited. It’s been a long time since I’ve stabbed someone and really meant it, you know what I mean?” said Vaggie, and the group laughed.
            “I’m excited to get to really see what I can do with my magic, really go all out, you know?” said (Y/N) excitedly, the roses on their head doubling and blooming wide.
            “Cheers, bitches!” said Cherri.
            “Yeah,” laughed Husk.
            “Here’s to us,” said Angel, clinking his glass with Husk’s.
            “Here’s to being alive today and not dying tomorrow!” declared Pentious.
            Everyone cheered and raised their glasses together—a family coming together.
            Above them, Alastor leaned on the banister of the stairs and regarded them from afar. “Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand. It’s been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection.” He leaned his head on his hand. “Almost makes one sentimental, eh, Niffty?”
            “I really like them, Alastor,” said Niffty. “They let me put on roach puppet shows without booing!”
            Alastor chuckled. “Ah, an enjoyable collective.”
            Niffty nodded vigorously. “(Y/N) even made me a stage and set!”
            Alastor’s familiarly manipulative grin morphed to a far different smile. His eyes landed on (Y/N) below. “I admit one could get accustomed.” However, as much as (Y/N) was Alastor’s protégé, he refused to think of anything else. Vulnerability would only get him into trouble. Alastor refused to lose any chance he had at power and freedom to sentiment. He couldn’t afford to.
            (Y/N) noticed him and waved.
            Alastor couldn’t help but smile slightly wider in response.
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lxclerc · 9 months
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𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏
summary... when you fall apart, oscar is always there to hold you together requested... yes! pairing... oscar piastri x uni student! reader warning... a bit of angst but overall fluff
note... another request from literally 9 months ago. let me know if you guys want to be added to the tag list.
𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
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you’re a mess. you try to hide it from oscar – trying to excuse the red eyes as nothing but lack of sleep. but oscar knows you well, maybe even a little too well. he knows you’re spiraling and you badly need a break and he knows you absolutely refuse to tell him no matter how many times he asks. you never want to be a bother and you never want to distract him from racing. 
oscar isn’t the most affectionate. this is a well known fact. he’s an awkward, quiet guy and oftentimes not knowing what to do with his arms and somehow you balance him out. you love anything physical contact, small touches here and there that oscar found oddly massively comforting. you’re the only person he allows to touch him anytime you want, the only person where it’s almost second nature for him to return the physical gesture. he doesn’t freeze up when you hug him the same way he does other people. when he’s holding you, he knows exactly what to do. 
and in that same way, oscar is the only person who knows how to look past your bullshit. you’re self sustaining and independent. you once believed you needed nothing from anyone, never wanting to be a bother to your closest friends and as a result, you find it difficult to accept help or any form of gestures for you. you never want anyone to waste their time doing something for you when you can do it yourself. 
which proved to be difficult when you and oscar started basically oscar absolutely loved doing things for you. whether it be preparing your ice coffee or giving you a massage or buying you that jewelry you’d been staring at. he absolutely adored showering you with gifts and acts of service. 
the moment the summer break started, oscar was on a plane to you as soon as he could. you aren’t expecting him till tomorrow but oscar had decided against staying in belgium for another day, getting his flight moved. 
he wanted to surprise you. he knows your midterms have had you stressed the past couple of days and the new manager at your job is a dick to you. you have your plate full and he knows you’re beginning to fall apart by the seams. 
you’ve always presented yourself as strong and independent but even he gets exhausted just hearing the things you need to get done daily. 
he knew you weren't at your apartment when he arrived. an hour ago, you’d texted him to let him know that your exam is about to start but he has a key and he thought it’d be good to order food for you knowing you didn’t have time to eat breakfast. 
but entering your apartment, he’s faced with a mess. books and laboratory papers are scattered around your dining table and clothes are all over your floor. god, it’s way worse than he thought. 
he first removed his hoodie, placing his suitcase in your room – that’s somehow messier than your living room – before he grabbed an energy drink from your fridge then he got to work, grabbing your laundry basket and putting away all of the clothes from the floor then he put bookmarks on the open books before putting it back on your bookshelf. 
it took a while but eventually, he got your apartment to become squeaky clean. he’s only just finished putting his clothes away when he received a text from you to say you’re on your way home, making oscar order your favorite food so you’d have something to eat.
you aren’t having the greatest day. to be fair, you aren’t having the greatest week either. or the greatest month. safe to say, you’re just not having a great time. 
you flunked that exam. you already know it and you already know that you’re probably going to fail the entire class and would have to retake it next semester. it’ll be the first time failing a class and quite honestly, it’s taking a hit at your ego. 
and somehow you’d have to find a way to pull your shit together before oscar comes tomorrow. the truth was, if oscar could help it, he’d fix each and every problem you’ve ever had and if he knew how shit of a time you’ve been having lately, he’d definitely try and find a way to fix that too. he hated seeing you upset, you know this. he doesn’t just dislike it like most boyfriends do, oscar genuinely hates seeing you upset. he’d turn the world upside down if it meant you’ll never shed another tear. 
which is why you kept it to yourself. he doesn’t need to know how much you’re struggling and drag him down with you. he’s finally in f1 and he’s having an amazing season. the greatest rookie since max verstappen. he has enough to deal with, he doesn’t need to fix your shit for you. 
your body feels heavy as you drag yourself back to your apartment, pulling your keys out of your bag only to find it already unlocked. immediately, your heart beats furiously, already thinking about intruders before you see the shoes by your front door. you knew well who owned it and you immediately pushed the door open.
your apartment, which has been nothing but pure mess the past couple of days now looks good as new. your floor has been vacuumed and the dirty dishes in your kitchen are gone. the clutter you’d left on your coffee table has now returned to its rightful place and your dining table is full of food from your favorite restaurant. 
you couldn’t help it. the past few weeks caught up with you coupled with the frustrations from your exams and you started crying. you refused to allow yourself to completely break down and now it was all flowing out as you sob. your muscles ache and your headache is persistent. you badly need to sleep but you haven’t eaten anything the entire day. you’re so so tired. 
“baby, what’s wrong?” came oscar’s voice as he heard your sobs from the living room. immediately, his arms are around you, pulling you off the floor as he pressed you against his body. he looks clueless as he watches you cry. he hated seeing you cry, it made him feel useless. and he definitely hated this, your entire body shaking with sobs as your fists clenched his shirt in an attempt to pull him closer to you. 
“what happened?” he asked again, sounding desperate. “are you hurt?”
you shook your head, burying your face against his chest as you tried to stabilize your breathing. “i’m so fucking tired.” 
oscar’s heart broke as he heard your hiccups. you’re still desperately clutching at him as oscar tightens his arms around you as though he can hold you together. 
“shh,” he muttered gently, planting a kiss on your temple. “it’s okay, honey.” 
for a few minutes, the two of you just stood there, arms wrapped around each other as you cried and eventually calmed down enough for oscar to slightly pull away in order to cup your face. he pushed back the strands of hair clinging to your face. you look pale and your eyes are bloodshot red, your lips chapped. 
“hey you,” he greets softly with a smile. 
that successfully pulled a tiny grin out of you. “hey.” 
“i love you,” he says, if only to remind you. 
you look like you’re about to start crying again when you nod. 
his smile made you smile too, already feeling much better than you had moments ago. his mere presence comforts you.
“how about a bubble bath before dinner?” he offers. 
you only nod as you wrap your arms around him again, burying your face against his neck as you inhale his scent. 
“i love you,” you say against his skin. “so so much.” 
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del-thetiredwriter · 1 year
Text
Saintess of Dragons part 1
Part 2
Yandere/dark Targaryens-Velaryons x female modern reader
English is my second language
Gif is not mine
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“My lady, Prince Daemon has informed that he wishes to see you.”
You put the paintbrush on the table at the voice of the maid.
"I understand. Help me get dressed. Do not touch the canvas, place the materials in their usual places, and finally, no one enters my study while I am away.”
As you passed through the corridors of the court , you saw the officials rushing in for the celebrations. It was that time of the year. The day everyone loved but you hated: "Rising Star Celebrations".
A new Star rose in the sky 11 years ago tonight, a Star never seen before, brighter than any other. That night, the dragons roared in unison as if celebrating someone's arrival, and the 'gods' sent a savior, a saint.
That saint was you. When you woke up one night, you found yourself in a bed in the Red keep, surrounded by council members and the royal family. You couldn't believe your ears when they explained their situation to you.
The whole thing was like a terrible joke. You really were in the book 'war and blood' that you read. Of course it sounds like amazing thing that living in your favorite series but actually it wasn’t.
You finally arrive in the room where Daemon is waiting for you.
“You took a long time to come.”
" There's nothing can be done. I'm busy" you said expressionlessly
“You look the same. Like I saw you 11 years ago tonight. You're still the same except for your clothes and that expression on your face. Indeed, as expected from the Saintess sent by the gods, the gods love you so much that they don't let time change you. You never age."
Daemon said, that look in his eyes that you don't like. He was staring at it like a Hunter looks at his prey.
“Are you jealous? Unlike you, I will always remain young and beautiful” You replied.
A laugh broke out from Daemon at your words.
“How are Laena and the girls?” you asked.
"They are good . They arrive in Kingslanding tomorrow. You know Laena is pregnant so she can't come directly on the dragon.”
“Yes,” you whispered.
‘She will die soon. Just like everyone’ you thought.
“Where have you been! You have to get ready for the night,” Rhaenyra said in a sweet angry voice.
“I was with Daemon. ” You said as Rhaenyra combed your hair.
“Daemon? Did he do or say anything strange to you?” Rhaenyra asked.
“Here's the usual Daemon. He didn't say anything very important." You said.
A deep sigh came from Rhaenyra. She looked sadly at your reflection in the mirror. She placed her chin on your shoulder and wrapped her arms around your waist.
"Rhaenyra?"
" You are very beautiful. Tonight is a special night that brought you to us, to me, but sometimes when I look at you, it feels like you will leave me at any moment. It's like you're going back to where you came from."
You didn't know what to say at Rhaenyra's words. She was right, you still wanted to go 'home', but you didn't know how. Living here in this world was exhausting and dangerous. You were afraid to change the future at the slightest mistake. You hated see peoples deaths and misery but order to stay alive and make sure future stays same you had to.
“Sometimes I want to lock you in a place where no one can find you, not even the gods, so you can’t leave me ” Rhaenyra whispered.
"What did you say?" You didn't hear what Rhaenyra said.
" Nothing . Now we have to go ." Said Rhaenyra, and you went to the celebrations together.
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bruisedboys · 5 months
Note
hi hi!! i have a req for u, if u fancy :) i hope it is not too specific. reader takes best friend!remus swimming or to yoga or smth to help him with his joint pain and he can’t even remember to be grumpy because he feels so loved and he is besotted
you always always nail the mood in your writing. somehow the scene is so precise and immersive, but with room for interpretation and imagination in the right places
angel thank you!! you’re too kind, that’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said about my writing 😭 I love you this is for you <3
remus lupin x fem!reader .. in which you (lovingly) trick remus into going to yoga with you 1.2k
“Remus?”
Remus looks up from his book. You’re standing in the doorway, altogether too shy for his liking. As if you’re not over at his place more than half the days of the week, as if you’re not fully aware that his space is yours and you can come and go as you please.
He turns his page idly. “Yeah, dove?”
“Um, can I ask you something?”
Remus looks up. You’re nervous and he doesn’t know why. Either you’re putting on an act because you want something from him really really bad, or you actually are nervous, which is far more unusual.
“Sure you can,” Remus smiles at you and puts his book down. “If you come sit next to me to ask it.”
You smile back and trudge across the carpet in your socks to sit next to him on the sofa. There’s plenty of room yet you squeeze yourself right up next to him like there isn’t. He gets his arm over your shoulders and rubs your bicep.
“What is it, babe?”
You fiddle with a fray in your jeans. “Well. I want you to come do something with me tomorrow.”
Remus hums. You ask him to do things with you all the time, errands and appointments, random shopping trips. He always says yes when he can. “Yeah? What is it? Nothing dangerous, I hope.”
“No.” You shake your head and then look up at him, eyes full of a strange sort of hope. “It’s, uh, this new yoga place? James told me about it. They opened down the road from the library and I wanted to try it out. But I’m too nervous to go alone. Would you go with me?”
Remus has his answer before you’ve even finished. If you’re too scared to do something by yourself he’ll go with you, of course he will. Even if it’s yoga.
“Sure I will,” Remus says, smiling big.
You perk up, obviously pleased by his answer. “You will?”
Remus looks down at you, at the bright hope on your eyes and your pretty smile, and thinks, How could I ever say no to you? He rubs your shoulder, not rough but definitely not gentle, and dots a smiling kiss to your forehead. “Of course I will. What made you think I’d say no? Have I ever?”
You shrug, melting under his affections, practically a puddle in his arm. “Well, it’s not really your thing. You don’t like exercise.”
“Because it sucks. But I’ll do it for you if you need me to.”
You melt further, looking as though you’ll slide right out of his arms and off the couch onto the floor. He’d catch you before you did.
-
The next day you and Remus arrive at the yoga studio five minutes early. You’re bubblier than yesterday, very clearly excited about your activity and excited that Remus is here with you. He’s happy you’re happy. He doesn’t care that he’ll probably hate it and be sore for days afterwards. It’s worth it if it makes you this cherry.
You practically buzzing with energy as you drag him through the glass doors and up to the reception. The desk is empty so you hit the little bell, and while you’re waiting you turn to Remus.
“Are you okay?” You ask him, a pinch between your brows that Remus would rub away with his thumb if he was brave.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
You shrug with one shoulder. “I dunno. I’d be anxious if I were you.”
He is a little. But you make him forget it so quickly it’s barely there. He shakes his head and smiles at you. “I’m not. I’m good, dove.”
The receptionist turns up with a smile and asks for your names. You give them to her, scan your card and then lead the way into the studio. It’s mostly older women, a handful of younger girls and a two men in the back corner. You must realise the lack of people like Remus, because you take his hand before you go in, dragging him in as if he’s been forced to come with you. He doesn’t care much about how he’s perceived, especially here, but he appreciates your effort.
The instructor comes in not long after you and Remus have. Everyone rolls out their mats and the instructor puts on a soft, spacey sort of instrumental on over the speakers. She starts with stretches, and while you and Remus are both in twin cross-legged positions, you lean over to him.
“Remus,” you whisper. The room is quiet but for the music, so you have to keep your voice down for fear of being heard by the rest of the class. “I have to tell you something.”
Remus brushes hair from his forehead. “What?”
“Uh, don’t be mad, okay?”
Remus raises his eyebrows at you. Why you’re bringing up something that could potentially make him mad at you in the middle of a yoga class, he doesn’t know. He gestures for you to go on.
“I didn’t really book this for me. I just told you that so you’d come. It’s for you.”
Remus blinks at you, totally confused and forgetting to change his stretch position as the instructor directs them to switch. “What?”
You fluster under his hot gaze. “I— well, I know you have a hard time with your joint pain,” you mumble, curling in on yourself shyly. “When James told me about this place, I thought it might help you. This is the only way I knew you’d actually agree to taking a class.” You search his eyes, teeth sunk into your bottom lip, clearly worried. “Don’t be mad, Rem.”
“I—“ Remus’ words catch in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s half annoyed that you managed to bribe him into taking a yoga class, of all things. The other half (the better half) is stupidly in love with you and your kind heart. “Sweetheart. I couldn’t ever be mad at you.”
You go completely shy on him, ducking your head bashfully. “I’m sorry for lying,” you say quietly. “And— if it’s awful we don’t ever have to come back again. I just … I wanted to help, ‘cos you’re always helping me, you know?”
Remus feels so much for you at that moment that he thinks his heart might fall right out of his chest. It beats and beats, pounding at his ribcage like it wants out. He doesn’t blame it.
He swallows. “Dove, I—“
Before the conversation can get any further the instructor indicates the end of the stretching portion and the start of the actual exercises. You both snap to attention, following the rest of the class as they stand up to get ready for the first exercise.
Remus would love to say more to you. Love to tell you how much it means to him that you’re doing this for him and with him. But the instructor has everyone moving into the downward dog position, and Remus doesn’t think he has enough energy to both fold his lanky body in half and tell you how much he loves you all at once. It’ll have to wait til the class is over.
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pippytmi · 2 months
Text
kacy + a break-up AU based on this prompt list: "you’re my emergency contact and i’ve been in an accident so you drop everything to come to the hospital"
———————————————————————
The thing no one says about breakups is that they're an utter inconvenience.
Kate tries to rationalize it; she was dating Lucy Tara for twelve months and thirteen days, it's only natural to have established a routine that will take some time to unlearn. So when she wakes up and reaches for a warm body that isn't there, it still takes a while to remember why. And when she makes her morning coffee, maybe sometimes she will pour the creamer that Lucy likes by accident. (By the end of the week, she will have to pour the whole container down the drain). That’s normal too. Mostly.
Lucy’s absence hits the most in the morning, but Kate goes through the motions anyway. Before Lucy she would always take her coffee outside and sit on the balcony to watch the sunrise, so she still does it. Of course now there’s no Lucy wrapped up in a blanket and insistently making her way onto Kate’s lap to sleep while she does it, but. Kate sips from her mug and watches the clouds roll in over the gloomy horizon and pretends nothing has changed.
The drive to work is quiet save for the gentle patter of rain against her windows. Her radio is still set to the station Lucy likes, and Kate hasn’t managed to change it. Baby steps—that’s all it takes. Maybe tomorrow Kate might have the courage to switch it back to her own.
And when everything at home is too loud and simultaneously too empty, there’s work. Kate gets to her desk and finds a mountain of files with new assignments, and she welcomes them with open arms; her work has always been separate from Lucy, and it's the one constant she doesn't need to readjust to.
For a blissful hour and a half, Kate is in her own world. She argues with a client about what confidentiality means (and what it doesn't). She reschedules the deposition of a plaintiff on a particularly high-profile case because opposing counsel has accidentally double-booked. She creates an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of her new cases but organizes the clients by market value. 
By all accounts, her morning is shaping up considerably. That is, until her cell phone starts buzzing.
She ignores the first call from the unknown number flashing on the screen. Instead, she gets coffee from the awful machine in the break room. The second call comes thirty minutes later, and Kate ignores it again, spends her time politely explaining how to use the fax machine to her confused new paralegal.
When her phone rings a third time—just as Kate has gotten out of a grueling meeting with the senior attorneys which should've been an email—she answers it solely for peace of mind: “This is Kate.”
There's a brief shuffle on the other end. “Hi, I'm calling from St. Joseph Hospital for a Katherine Whistler?”
“Speaking,” Kate says curtly, prepared to give a spiel about how she won't donate at this time when the caller continues,
“Oh—good morning.” More shuffling. “Is this a good time? I have a sensitive matter to discuss.”
Kate frowns even if the person on the other line can't see it. “Yes, it's fine,” she says, and watches as her work phone lights up with another call that she will just have to return later. 
“I'm calling on behalf of a patient: Lucy Tara. She has you listed as her emergency contact. She is unresponsive and we were wondering if you could come in to discuss the particulars of her care…”
The rest of the call is static. Kate almost drops her phone entirely, only grasping onto select words like they're a lifeline. Lucy is alive. Lucy is hurt. Lucy was found unconscious. Lucy has yet to wake up. Lucy is alive.
Kate doesn't even tell anyone she's leaving; she just goes. Later, senior attorney Michael Curtis will tell Kate that she looked extremely pale and sickly when rushing out of the office, but Kate will only remember a vague blur from that phone call to actually arriving at the hospital. It might be the most reckless thing she’s ever done, come to think of it.
Dr. Carla Chase is the physician assigned to Lucy’s care, and she takes one look at Kate and blinks as if surprised to see her. “Forget an umbrella?”
“I'm sorry?” Kate says, heart caught dangerously high in her throat. She's literally choking on worry—Dr. Chase’s words don't sink in until she takes a step forward and realizes she is currently dripping all over the linoleum floor.
Dr. Chase gives her a small, sympathetic smile. “Let me ease your mind,” she says. “Ms. Tara woke up. Our timeline is good, she was not unconscious for long. Has a concussion and a nasty bump, but she's going to be just fine.”
Kate breathes. “Oh,” she says shakily, and embarrassingly, hot tears spring to her eyes at the confirmation. “That's…great. Thank you.”
“You can come inside, see her. I'll go find you a towel.” Even though Kate is a sopping mess, Dr. Chase still pauses to place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze reassuringly.
Even with the worst over, the hardest part is still walking into the room—harder still is watching as Lucy looks up with those wide, curious eyes that become expressionless the instant she sees Kate.
“Kate? What are you doing here?” Lucy asks, voice not quite harsh but definitely not welcoming.
Kate opens her mouth, but is unable to form words. She's too stuck just staring at Lucy: at the bruise that colors the entirety of the swell of her cheek, at the large bandage over her jaw, at the purpling of her black eye. Any relief at knowing that Lucy is awake sinks into horror at the state of Lucy’s injuries.
“Kate,” Lucy repeats, frowning. “Why do you look like someone died?” A beat. “And why are you wet?”
“The—the hospital called me,” Kate manages. “Are you okay? How are you…how are you feeling?”
“I'm fine. I just fell down a stupid mountain.” Lucy smooths down her blanket, twisting the corner between her fingertips the way she does when she's uncomfortable.
“A mountain?”
“It's not as dramatic as it sounds,” Lucy says. “Kai and I were searching for a missing kid and we got separated, and with the rain it was muddy and foggy and…well, you get it.”
“And he left you there? Unconscious?” Kate has met Kai Holman once or twice, and knows very little about him except that just like Lucy, he volunteers for search and rescue missions to escape his normal job. Beyond that, Kate’s opinion of him is quickly going downhill.
“He wasn't there when it happened,” Lucy argues. “I already texted him and explained, but, I told him he didn't have to come see me or anything.” She stops. “So why did you come?”
“Because the hospital called,” Kate says again, which is pretty self-explanatory.
Apparently, Lucy does not feel the same way. “But you didn't have to answer the phone,” she points out. “We’re not together. You could've just said ‘sorry, she’s my ex’ and called it a day.”
Kate stiffens. “You're the one who has me as your emergency contact. It was the…decent thing to do,” she says.
Lucy rolls her eyes. “Okay, congratulations,” she says, “you have done your civic duty of not being an asshole. But I’m alright, so you can go back to deep-sea diving in your pantsuit or whatever you were up to before this.”
“Hold on,” Kate says, a flare of panic overtaking any objection she might have to Lucy’s disdain (which is completely unwarranted, by the way). “How are you getting home?”
“They’ve invented a modern miracle called an Uber, not sure if you heard.” Lucy waves her phone exaggeratedly. “I’ll survive.”
It's an out, and Kate should take it. She should walk out that door and never look back, let all the unsaid issues between them continue to morph and mutate into something ugly and irreversible. But she can’t. 
“I’ll drive you home,” Kate says at last.
Lucy immediately shakes her head. “That’s not necessary,” she says. “Seriously. If you’re that against Ubers, I can call Kai and get him here in two seconds. He’d be more than happy to take me home.”
“That would be unnecessary. I’m already here.”
“And you don’t have to be,” Lucy reiterates, staring Kate down like she expects her to cave.
If it were any other situation, Kate would. She's soaked head to toe from the rain, she has no obligation to be here, and by all accounts either reason would be a rational excuse to extradite herself from this hospital. Especially the former—the chill of her wet clothes is finally beginning to catch up to her, and she blindly brushes back her damp hair while resisting the urge to shiver. It would be the rational decision to go home and change into warm clothes (and explain to her boss why she left without as much as a text explaining why).
But for once in her life, Kate isn't being rational. “I'm not leaving,” she says, crossing her arms in an attempt to look firm. 
Lucy sighs, sagging backwards against her pillow. “Come on, Kate,” she says. “This is awkward enough. I don't need a babysitter after one tiny little fall.”
“Down a mountain,” Kate says, unable to let that fact go. “What do your parents think about this?”
“I…might've not told them. Exactly.” Lucy bites her lip in an obvious effort not to wince. “I asked for the day off when I woke up, so.”
Kate blinks. “You woke up after a traumatic fall,” she says slowly, “and…asked your parents for PTO.”
“I wouldn't call it traumatic. That's such an ugly word. Limiting, even,” Lucy says. “It would've been a total badass move if it hadn't been, you know, raining.”
A knock against the wall announces Dr. Chase’s arrival, who has thankfully brought Kate that towel. “How are we doing?” she asks.
“Ready to get out of here,” Lucy says, sitting up eagerly. “Whenever you say so, doc.”
“Well, I really would recommend a CT scan to be on the safe side,” Dr. Chase says. “But given that you've passed all our cognitive tests and your vision is good, I can consider a discharge…as long as you have someone at home to monitor you today and make sure no further symptoms arise. And no sleeping until your normal bedtime.”
“I’ll be with her,” Kate interjects as she towels off her hair. Lucy looks like she might argue, but her desire to leave must win out, because she doesn't speak up.
“Fantastic. Let me get your discharge paperwork and a prescription for some painkillers—all over the counter. Then we're going to have a serious discussion about what you should and should not do, okay?”
“Got it. Thanks, Dr. Chase,” Lucy says cheerfully, but the instant the doctor leaves, so does her smile. “What was that? You obviously can't stay with me.”
“I know,” Kate says defensively, even if—for a second—she had been completely prepared to. “I'm sure Ernie or Jane can monitor your symptoms just fine.”
“...yeah,” Lucy agrees slowly, as if she had been expecting Kate to argue. Then, “Oh, shit. I actually forgot to tell Jane I'm here.” She frantically opens her phone and starts texting up a flurry, her brow crinkling as she concentrates on her screen, and Kate is brought back to movie nights spent scouring Wikipedia articles and faux-arguing over date night picks and it's…too much.
This is the opposite of unlearning; this is an all too painful reminder that Lucy Tara is no longer in her life. Kate wrings the damp towel between her hands and takes a deep breath to save face. At the very least, Lucy doesn't seem to have caught on to Kate’s internal turmoil, because when she looks up again all the cheerfulness from before is back.
Kate knows in that instant she never wants Lucy to lose that cheer again. “Everything okay?” she asks, aiming for just-polite-enough interest, and Lucy is gracious enough to allow it.
“They found the missing girl,” Lucy says, sagging backwards in obvious relief. “Thank God.” When she smiles, even if it’s down at her phone, Kate nearly tears up all over again.
“That’s great.” Kate clears her throat, places her hands in her (wet) pockets, and tries very hard to act casual. “So is Jane going to stay with you, then?”
“No—she’s the one who found the kid, she has to stay and give the police a statement,” Lucy mutters, biting her lip distractedly as she types out another message. “I’ll see what Ernie’s up to.”
By the time Dr. Chase comes back with discharge paperwork and a spiel about avoiding screens (during which Lucy noticeably peeks at Kate, like she might rat her out), Kate has already resolved herself to zero interference. Obviously it’s not what she wants, but she listens to Dr. Chase and nods along at all the right times while in her head she is already drafting a very long message to Ernie with all the relevant information. Then she drives Lucy home to that bleak apartment that Lucy lives in mostly as a general “fuck you” to her parents, which Kate swears is either haunted or infested by very spirited roaches.
The entire ride there, Lucy doesn’t say anything about the car’s radio being set to her favorite station (and which  Kate would always complain about), which is just as well. Kate isn’t sure how she would’ve explained it.
“This not sleeping thing sucks, I’m honestly dead tired with our without a concussion,” Lucy groans as she exits the vehicle, stretching her arms overhead.
Kate follows her outside, and when Lucy gives her a questioning look, she says, “Ernie’s not here yet, is he? I can at least wait with you until he does.”
“I’m sure I can survive thirty minutes alone, Kate,” Lucy says. “I won’t pass out the instant you walk away or anything.”
“I’d really rather wait,” Kate says, and Lucy sighs.
“Fine. God, I would’ve changed my emergency contact ASAP if I’d known you would be such a stickler for lame hospital rules.” Lucy wraps herself up in a  large black hoodie which Kate recognizes as her own, still muddy from the fall but otherwise intact.
“Why did you?” Kate finds herself asking, mouth three steps ahead of her head, and Lucy pauses outside her apartment door.
“You mean why didn’t I change it? Because I forgot, I wasn’t exactly expecting to land in the hospital.”
“No, why…why did you make me your emergency contact in the first place?” Kate clarifies, her voice strangely quiet even to her own ears.
Lucy methodically unlocks her door, but her hands falter. “Just because,” she says at last. “You know how it is. Anything was better than my parents. Sorry I didn’t…ask you first.”
“Well, I mean,” Kate shrugs, “I didn’t ask you either.”
At that, Lucy whirls around, mouth agape. “You made me your emergency contact?”
Kate hesitates. “Yes? After like six months. It was a practical decision, we spent pretty much all our time together and I assumed…”
Somehow, she’s said the wrong thing, because Lucy’s eyes darken. “Right.” She moves away, digging through her fridge in search of something to drink, and Kate awkwardly leans against the kitchen counter and tries to make sense of what’s going on.
“Did you eat anything today?” Kate attempts to change the subject. “I can make you something before Ernie gets here.”
Lucy takes a gulp of a water bottle and doesn’t respond, just eyes Kate from across the kitchen with a sharp, unyielding glare. Finally, the words seem to burst out: “I wish you weren’t so—fucking—” She shakes her head. “Do you even know how you sound, sometimes? No girl wants to hear that they’re the practical choice. Just once, I wish you’ve would picked me because you wanted me.”
Kate feels her entire body prickle, partly in shock and partly in indignation. “What are you talking about? I did pick you.”
“Did you?” Lucy tilts her head. “”Cause it kind of feels like you picked the idea of me. At least, that’s how Cara tells it.”
“Seriously? Cara? She—” Kate pauses to exhale, swallows back a frustrated sob. “She’s wrong. I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you. Fuck, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.” This time, her voice quivers like the sob might escape, and some of the steel in Lucy’s gaze softens.
“Then why did you leave?”
“I thought that was what you wanted,” Kate says. “You were pushing me away, Lucy. What was I supposed to think?”
“You should’ve fought harder for me,” Lucy says. “You could have talked to me. Jesus, Kate, I don’t—I can’t have this conversation right now. I’m basically a prisoner in my house, this is the last thing I need.”
Kate’s shoulders fall. “I know,” she says. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t do that either,” Lucy snaps, and she chugs the remainder of her water before she stalks out of the room. “No apologies. Okay?”
“Okay.” Kate waits to see if Lucy will come back to the kitchen, but she doesn’t. Instead, she hears the tell-tale sound of Lucy banging around through her board game drawer, because the chess set Ernie gave her rattles and gives it away. Kate tentatively enters the living room, finds Lucy sorting through a Monopoly box, but doesn’t try to say anything else.
Lucy breaks the silence all on her own, eventually. “I have nothing to cook,” she says. “But I asked Ernie to bring food with him.”
“Alright.” Kate doesn’t sit down because her clothes are still damp, but she does wait by the couch. “Can I help with anything?”
“No.” Lucy is sitting cross-legged on the floor and carefully stacking Monopoly money into piles by color, her muddy hoodie occasionally smearing against the carpet. “I’m fine.” She obviously isn’t; her jaw is clenched, her back stiff, her entire demeanor still a perfect mirror of her anger.
Kate wisely doesn’t push. And when Ernie arrives carrying Thai food and a thick stack of books which Lucy is outwardly horrified at, Kate doesn’t try to stay.
“I’m going to send you the doctor’s discharge instructions,” she tells Ernie instead, as Lucy gingerly pokes through one of the books Ernie has handed off. “Make sure Lucy eats something before she takes her meds.”
“On it, Dr. Whistler,” Ernie says seriously, his voice going low so Lucy can’t hear afterward. “And thanks, for being there. Even if you two aren’t…”
Kate casts one final look at Lucy Tara, bundled up in her clothes and adorably pouting at the prospect of reading all night instead of playing board games, and feels her heart beat so hard it hurts. “Take care of her,” she says, but it’s not a request.
Ernie gives her a small, sad smile. “I will.” 
Lucy doesn’t say goodbye, but she does spare Kate one brief, sorrowful once-over like she wants to. Kate memorizes that look—lets it linger in the back of her mind—and doesn’t cry until the first cheery pop song from Lucy’s favorite station starts playing on the drive home.
She hits the button to turn off the radio altogether, but her finger slips and she accidentally switches stations instead. Kate eases the car to a stop at a red light, watches as rain begins to drizzle once more, and then she makes the executive decision to switch it back.
Baby steps.
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bitchystxrk3000 · 2 months
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Surprise, Surprise
A/N- Please keep in mind, this is my first time writing a Reader Insert. So, I'm sorry in advance if this isn't that good.
Loki x Fem!Reader
F/F= Favorite Food
Imagine on the elevator, Thor talks to Loki about a girl he met while on Midgard, having no idea that girl happened to be Loki girlfriend of 6 years, you.
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"I'm sorry, my lady." Thor's voice booms throughout the kitchen after having bumped into you after turning away from the fridge. You smiled softly and nodded your head in thanks. "It's no problem Thor." you said. "Would you like to have lunch with me, my lady? Everyone seems to be out of the Compound at the moment." Thor asks in a surprisingly soft voice. "Why the hell not? My name is Y/N L/N, by the way." You smiled widely. "It is nice to meet you, lady Y/N. What would you like to eat?" Thor grins, gesturing to open-planned kitchen in the Avengers Compound. "I'll just take a plate of F/F from the fridge, Thor. Thank you." You spoke before sitting at the dinning room table, as Thor plated both you and him some F/F. After heating both plates up, Thor flopped into the chair next to the one you were sitting in, after putting both plates on the table. You and Thor got to know one another as you both ate. Loki had told you about Thor and stories about when they were little, but you didn't think Thor would have such Golden Retriever energy based off of what Loki had said. You guys eventually went separate ways as Thor said he was off to the gym. You bid goodbyes as you went back to Loki's room. As you arrived at Loki's room, you could see him walking down the hall towards the Elevator. "I'm going to get a new book, my Queen." Loki spoke softly but loud enough for you to hear, without turning around, as if sensing your confusion. "Ok, I'll be in your bedroom, my King." You spoke before heading into Loki's room and closing the door.
Loki got to the elevator the same time as Thor, and coincidentally the Library and gym are one floor apart. Going the same way, down. Thor held the elevator doors open for his brother which had Loki nodding his thanks. "I met such a wonderful maiden today, brother." Thor announced as the elevator doors closed. Loki raised an eyebrow in question, which Thor noticed. "Why yes, she was the upmost kind and sweet woman I've ever met. I think you would love her. She has a mischievous side but also has a kind and caring nurture to her. I think you and her would get along great after some of the pranks she told me she's pulled on her older brother." Thor explained with a bright smile. "Who is this, you speak of Thor?" Loki questioned with genuine curiosity. "Her name was Y/N L/N. She was brilliant, she was." Thor spoke, with wild gestures of his hands, before smiling at his brother. "I think you and her would get along great." He added quickly, noticing Loki's amusement to the situation. Loki nodded with a mischievous sparkle to his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind, brother. Thank you." He spoke with a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. "No problem, brother." Thor grinned while giving Loki a pat on the back.
As Thor and Loki went their separate ways once arriving to the destined floor, Loki smiled to himself, a genuine smile, just thinking about you and thinking he's ready to tell the team about you. He knows you're the one for him. You complete him. You make him feel things he's never felt before. You are the love of his life. He doesn't know what he would do without you. You make him a better person. Loki is happy for the first time in what feels like forever because of you. He is beyond grateful he met you. He would go to the end of the Nine Realms for you. He would kill for you. He would do anything you asked of him. You have him wrapped around your finger like there is no tomorrow.
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cultusmeus · 2 months
Text
Sleepless sleepovers
Summary: You and Rust have a sleepover
Warnings: general warning based on the topics of season one of True Detective
Word count: 800ish
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You were caught off guard by the sound of a certain somones Truck in your driveway, you’d already settled in for the night PJs on and winding down on the couch with a drink and a book. Before you could even make a move for the door, he had already begun to knock. “Come back with a warrant.” You joked as you got up and opened the door. Rust didn’t look amused brushing past you into your house. Rust headed for your couch and you headed to the kitchen plating some of the dinner you’d made.
“Eat.” Is all you needed to say as you sat the plate down in front of him. Giving him his space and sitting on the opposite end of the couch while you finished your drink. Conversation between you two flowed at its own pace, You and Rust had a strange sort of relationship that blossomed from just selling him Benzos, Quell, etc. At some point he started to linger around longer after deals, and you never kicked him out or turned him away and now here you are. He abandons his half empty plate to instead inspect the book you were reading before his arrival. “I don’t know how you make it through all these fantasy and sci-fi books…Did you read what I gave you?” He asked reading the summary on the back of the book. “I did, I enjoyed it. Not as much as my sci-fi or fantasy though. If I wanted to spend my free time indulging in non-fiction death and darkness I’d turn on the News.”
Rust goes silent. He puts the book down. “So you’re content ignoring the harsh realities and burying your head in your fantasy books to ignore it?” He ask leaning back into the couch and lighting a cigarette, he turns his head to look at you as if he’s waiting for a response but instead starts up again “Thats the problem with people in this fucking town.”
“Hmmm tough day at work I’m guessing?”
His eyes narrow and he takes a long drag. “Did I strike a nerve?” You smile trying to diffuse his mood.
His eye contact doesn’t let up. He’s in the kind of mood where your stupid little quips aren’t enough to suffice. He wants to argue he likes to disagree. It's one of the parts of his personality you had to get accustomed to. “Yes, I read fantasy books to take my mind off of the world. It's nice to get lost in something like that, you know what though that’s a much better alternative than the substance dependency I have.”
“I feel like this.” You gestured to the book. “Is the much more tame side of my escapism behaviors.”
Rust lights up another cigarette, taking a drag before handing it over to you. “Didn’t mean to rile you up.” You take a few drags and huff in response. “You did. You did mean to and you know it.”
You huff out a laugh, and Rust's expression lightens. To keep the mood light you go to retrieve your usual vices hoping to end the evening on a better foot.
You don’t make it back to your spot on the couch before Rust reaches out to grab you, tugging you down onto his lap and pulling the cigarette from between your lips and putting it between his. “You work tomorrow?” He asks between drags, finishing the cigarette. You shake your head moving to sit beside him handing him two pills. He takes two more pills from the bottle you bought over downing them. You follow suit, taking two of your own.
Rust stands holding his hand out to you, you smack it out of your way, going to stand up for yourself. You don’t make it onto your own feet before Rust swings you over his shoulder without a grunt or struggle and walks towards your bedroom. Placing you with all the grace he can muster onto your bed. Rust makes quick work for his clothes stripping down to a wife beater and his boxers. He lays next to you, arms touching. You reach over for his hand holding it as you both stare up at the ceiling. These odd moments of intimacy with Rust continue to grow the more time you spend together. He squeezes your hand, as you both lay in silence. “Is this our version of a sleepover? Sleep over for the sleepless?” You feel the drowsiness coming on. Rust lifts your intertwined hands kissing yours and placing them back down.
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russellsppttemplates · 7 months
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Let me be there for you (Lance Stroll)
Your way of dealing with things makes Lance question if you are both on the same page
Note: english is not my first language. I never thought that a small blurb could lead to this, but I'm happy it did. Thank you to the people who sent in their ideas, and coincidence or not, some of them I already had in mind (some were tweaked a little), and they also go perfect with something I want to do for Lance and reader when they want to start a family, so hopefully soon I'll get to that!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions reader's period, a couple fight, hospital/exams, female fertility problems
"Would you be able to come here by the end of the week?", the lady asked over the phone, "this week is going to be difficult, I need to push a few things around to see if I can make it. Can I call you back once I know for sure?", you suggested back to her, "thank you for understanding. Have a nice day", you ended the call, sighing as you looked at the calendar app open on your laptop and, quite frankly, not seeing many available options for the appointment you were trying to book.
You were in the middle of changing things around when your boyfriend's text interrupted your chain of emails questioning if your schedule could be altered.
"Shoot, forgot that was today!", you cursed yourself for having forgotten that you had planned to have dinner with Lance at your place, now grateful that he had won the battle of who should be in charge of the food despite your previous insistence. The text could read that he was leaving his place to go to the take out place and then he would make his way to yours, which meant you had about forty fives minutes until he arrived.
Deciding that you'd leave the problem for tomorrow, at least until you knew for sure if you had the time, you switched off your laptop and moved to the living room, tidying it up a little and arranging the table so it was set when Lance arrived.
A knock on the door was enough to pull you out of your focus on the show playing on the TV, getting up to open it and allowing him inside, you waited until the paper bag was set on the table so you could cup his cheek and kiss his lips, "hello, sweetheart", he hummed as he separated your lips.
"Hi, handsome, how was your day?", you asked, helping him spread the food containers, "it was good, we did some testing on the latest developments of the car and some promotional videos, too. And yours? Is this a new table?", he said, "it was good. Oh yes, I got this on the weekend, the guys delivered it on Friday and I spent the whole weekend building it", you smiled, seeing Lance look at the plaster on your arm, "I had some trouble with one of the legs, but I got it under control", you explained, seeing his concerned expression, "you could've called for help", he noted, holding your hand as you sat down, "no need, I was able to complete it myself. Hopefully this doesn't fall all over though", you giggled, trying to soften his expression with a kiss on his cheek.
"Do you want to go to this weekend's race?", he asked, biting the food he gathered on the fork, "I don't think I can go, I'd love to, but I was only able to schedule an appointment for the weekend, and even that I'm trying to see if that works, but I'd love to go", you pouted, "I'll be watching from home, I promise", you cupped his cheek, rubbing the stubbly skin and smiling, "this one usually broadcasts early in the morning, like six or something", he nudged you, "then I'll just have to get a big mug of coffee to get me through".
"You said you had an appointment?", Lance recuperated the subject when you had finished tidying the plates, now sitting on the sofa enjoying eachother's presence, "yes, I have to go to a check-up, nothing major", you said, kissing his clothed chest.
.
Since Lance was leaving for Japan the next morning, you opted out to have dinner that his place, despite your insistence that you could do it at yours so he didn't have to worry about having a tidy kitchen and house, "I've told you I don't mind having to clean up, and I always love having you here, especially when you wear my clothes", he reasoned with you, feeling a bit cocky about how you had gone to his wardrobe and grab one of his hoodies because you were cold.
"Did you book the appointment?", Lance asked once you sat on his big sofa while he flickered through the channels, hoping to find something good for you to watch.
"I did, Friday afternoon they're going to do some exams", you subtly mentioned, "exams? I thought it was just a routine check-up", he wondered, now concerned about the situation. Truth was, he sometimes felt like he didn't get everything out of you. Like you'd tell him the basics of your life, almost in a way of not having him just about enough involved in it, but far way enough as well.
"They're doing some studies, but I don't think it's that big of a deal, it's about my period. Probably some bloodwork, they talked about a scan, but only if they think it's necessary", you mumbled, feeling Lance change his position so he could face you.
"Are you sure? I'd like to help in any way I can", he forwarded, "you know I want to be here as much as I can for you, you don't have to go through this alone, or do this alone, I'm here for you", he stated.
"I know, love. But I'm fine", you mumbled, "no need to worry, yeah?".
And it was like it broke then and there. "But I do worry, you know? I want to know things and do things for you, and you barely let me", he began and you allowed for him to continue, sensing that you needed to think about what to say, "it's like you don't want me to be involved in your life, like you don't want to rely on me, you don't want my help. And I'm all in Y/N", he said, rhe frustration clear in his face.
Being on your own for a while did that to a person. You'd grown protective of yourself and of your values, so you burst a lot bigger than intended, "what do you mean? I tell you about my things, and I have you in my life. And I love that, but I don't think I'm pushing you away", you reasoned back.
"You don't?", Lance snapped loudly enough to be heard but calm enough to still allow you to feel safe, "a while ago, you were busy juggling family matters and work matters, and I only found out after the problems were solved. Surely, I couldn't help with the problems themselves, but I could've helped you deal with their burden. Not even to build a table, Y/N. I'm sure I could've helped with that, and this appointment? I'm only finding out you're being examined because I asked. If you don't want me to know things, maybe we need to sort things", he gulped. He himself didn't like that option. He saw a future with you, so suggesting it came out of his mouth as quickly as he regretted saying it.
"I think you're being unreasonable, Lance", you stated. Was this the end of it all?
"We can't see eye to eye on this, can we?", he said, "I think we should think about this, with a clear head. I've already said things I don't mean in the slightest", your boyfriend suggested.
"I think it's a good idea, too", you gulped, getting up and grabbing your bag so you could leave.
You put on your shoes, lacing them carefully whilst feeling Lance's gaze on you, waiting desperately to hear the three words from him. Despite his opinion, you cared about him and wanted him in your life, so much so that at the beggining of your relationship you promised eachother that, no matter what, you'd never let the other go to sleep wondering if the other loved then. You could be mad or upset at eachother, but you had to know you loved eachother, so when he said "I love you", and looked at you, it made you feel a little bit better.
"I love you, Lance. Travel safe, okay?", you said, looking at him one last time before closing the door behind you.
.
The Buzzin Corner had been the first activity Lance got to do that got his mind off of what had happened, and for a bit he actually thought he had a good plan for when he came back, wanting to focus on his race first and then head home to you.
Sebastian had stopped by the Aston Martin hospitality, wanting to greet his old team when he saw Lance sitting in one of the sofas in the corner, "May I? You know being alone always makes your own thoughts louder", he smiled, sitting next to the number eighteen driver.
"Sure, it's probably for the best to be honest", Lance mumbled, "are you enjoying the weekend?", he asked, "it's different when I'm watching the cars race rather than racing myself", the German driver added simply, "it's a good thing I know a lot of people here. Just saw your sister too, and her husband. How is Y/N? I don't mean to be nosy, but I'm curious to know how she is", Sebastian asked Lance. He had met you in the last couple of races from the previous season, keeping you company a few times since you, too, preferred to stay in the hospitality rather than in the buzz of the paddock.
"She's back home, work has been keeping her busy and she had an appointment", Lance forwarded, thinking about telling him more. He and Sebastian had grown close, especially after being teammates, and he seemed to have a good marriage, so maybe he had some helpful insights about the situation. And the worst he could do was gossip about it with Mick, and even that he didn't think would be the case, so Lance figured it was okay.
"Actually, I've been meaning to talk to someone about this", he tried, seeing his previous teammate show no signs of not wanting to hear it, "Y/N, she's incredible, we've established that from the beggining. But I feel like she's not in this as much as I am?", Lance shrugged.
"What makes you think that?", Sebastian questioned, "it's like she doesn't want me to be there for her. Am I unreasonable to think that I should be involved in her life? She never asks for my help, and we had a fight about it before I travelled here", he gulped.
"I don't know her enough to answer from her side, nor do I want such meddling", Sebastian began, "But have you considered how it feels for her?", he pointed out, "I'm not taking any sides here, but I think it's important you see her side and she sees yours. Y/N is an incredibly intelligent woman, you know I said that to you after she visited us for the first race weekend", he smiled, recalling the many teasing comments of the German driver stating how he had definitely got lucky and of how whipped he looked for the young woman. "I don't think she would do anything to purposefully hurt you, I saw how much she cares about you. Maybe her love language is not the same as yours. I remember me and Hanna also had to work around them", he finished.
"I really don't want to lose her, you know?", Lance admitted. He saw a future with you. Whenever he thought about being married or having a family, or even growing old, he had you by his side. Despite knowing you wouldn't want a celebration like his sister had for her wedding, only because it wasn't your thing, but he couldn't help himself but think of how it would be for you. To see you in a dress and celebrate your love in front of the people you cared about most, to dance around and, most importantly, to spend the rest of his days with. "I don't want to throw the towell, but it's difficult to navigate this, and I don't want to say anything that would hurt her. When we talked about it, I already said things I didn't mean", Lance added, looking up at Sebastian, "make sure you talk it out like grown adults. No offensive words thrown around, because that will do you no good. If you're really in love with eachother, you find compromises and discuss them, see where one or the other bends, with balance, of course", the older driver advised, patting his back, "I hope everything goes well with you two, she's an incredible young woman", he smiled.
"Thanks, Sebastian", Lance smiled, too, now wanting the weekend to be over so he could talk to you.
.
Hi, love. I'm sorry your race got cut short but a technical issue. I hope you all have a safe travel home.
Also, I'm going to be home for the next few days because I had a small exam (I'm fine, by the way, just a little crampy), so if you want to drop by so we can talk, let me know, okay? I love you.
Those two texts on his phone warmed his heart slightly. He was gutted that he didn't get to finish the race, but still comforted by the fact that you had been watching and supporting him.
"Smiling about your lover, little brother?", Chloe asked, sitting in front of him. The family was flying back home together and everyone seemed to be either working or asleep, so Lance had the options to either talk to his sister or do what the others were doing.
"Yes, she just texted", he smiled faintly, his eyes not budging the part where you mentioned you'd be home, surely because it was medically prescribed given the exam you had. "She had an appointment today and she's saying she's done with the examination they did", he said.
"Oh, bless her. Is it because of her periods? She was telling me about it the last time we visited and she was very uncomfortable", Chloe thought out loud, "I've never had them, but some of my friends have had them and some of them are hard-core. Hopefully she can manage the pain and hopefully not need surgery", she finished, taking a sip from her drink and not notice how her brother's face had turned into worry.
Pain? Surgery? What was she on about? You mentioned some blood work, scans if they saw fit. But maybe you had a reason behind not telling him, so until then, he was going to work with the information he had.
.
Lance was up bright and early given the jetlag, thinking he would just get his day going before dropping by to your place. When he arrived the day before, he only had the energy to send you a text that he was home before he found the energy to shower and go to sleep, hoping to visit you today.
After his workout and another shower, he got ready and ate breakfast, taking his car keys out of the decorative bowl they lived in before making his way out of the door.
Driving to your place, he rehearsed the words and ideas he wanted to say. Now, he understood the importance of hearing your side of the story, because while he felt frustrated and a little hurt, he knew you were most likely not doing it on purpose, so there had to be another reason behind it.
Sending you a quick text and getting a positive reply back, he made his way to your place, parking his car and heading up to knock on your door.
"May I?", he wondered when you opened the door, getting inside and taking his shoes off before he kissed your forehead, heading with you silently to the living room.
"This is where I've been spending my days, so that's why there's pillows and blankets everywhere", you blushed, sitting yourself in a comfortable position so Lance could sit next to you, "we're here to talk, so do you mind if I start?", you asked, earning his nod.
Letting out a big breath, you looked at your boyfriend's brown eyes, "I've been on my own for a while, so I had to learn how to do things on my own. My parents always made sure I was raised as an independent woman because that gave me a feel of self security and some self confidence", you explained, "and so, for me, asking someone for help or accepting is not as easy as it is for some".
"But is that because you don't trust me to help you? Or that you don't want my help?", Lance asked softly, starting to understand where you were coming from.
"No, not like that. I trust you completely. And when I choose to not ask for help, it was never with the intention of hiding it all from you in a malicious way... I guess I'm just doing things like I was wired to do, and because of that I couldn't understand why you were so upset and mad about it", you breathed out, finally letting it all out.
"Then, maybe you can trust me enough to let me help? I understand where you're coming from now, but I promise I'm only have good intentions, and I want to be here for you. You don't have to deal with things on your own all the time", he brushed some hairs behind your ear.
"I didn't want to seem distant. It's just, I've been like this my whole life, and I never wanted to be overbearing. It's jus how I do stuff, but I'll make an effort to be better. Can't say it will be easy and linear, but we'll talk along the way, yes?", you added.
"Exactly. So, what are these exams?", he asked, holding your hand in his, rubbing the soft skin with his fingers, "I've always had pretty painful cycles, you know that. And because of that, my doctor thought it was best for me to get some further tests just to make sure things are working as they should. This time it was just a blood sample and the did a scan of my belly, and next week I have a smear booked which depends on what the other tests' results say when they come back", you gulped, "they're worried about some conditions, and fertility and all of that, so they think it's best if they catch it early", you shrugged your shoulders.
"Why didn't you tell me?", he asked, "Well, we established I'm not the best at asking for help, am I?", you blushed, "it's a lot for someone to take in. They keep saying that it could be nothing or that it could be something big, we just have to wait and see. And you've been in hospital recently in far worse shape, I didn't want to burden you", you said, earning a shake from his head, "I want to he here for you as much as possible in this, if you'll let me, please. Wether it's just bloodwork of a full body scan. I don't care if they're poking you with needles or some sort of exam, I want to be there because I care about you. You could never be a burden for me, and in matters like this, I'm not letting you walk through it alone, no matter what happens, okay?", Lance checked, earning a nod, "I need words, sweetheart", he teased, "yes, I'll tell you", you smiled, cupping his cheeks so you could press your lips in his.
"And we'll talk to eachother whenever we feel like we're not being understood. I don't care what it is about, we talk about it. You want me out of your hair? Okay. I need you to let me help you put on a sock? Let's do it!", he chuckled, making you smile too, "I want you for the long run, so I'm willing to make this work for the best if you are, too", he kissed your forehead, "we have a deal?".
Smiling, you pecked his lips a few times, "we have a deal. Thank you for being so understanding", you blushed, nuzzling your face in his chest, "now, I'm just going to get you a hot water bottle, your meds, and then we'll get comfortable enough to watch this show".
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sydsaint · 1 month
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Summary: Bron finds himself out a hotel room after a late-night mix-up with the receptionist. Luckily for him, the reader is an old friend who is also getting into town late.
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It's well past midnight when Bron's Uber from the airport finally pulls into the hotel parking lot. "Thanks, man." Bron mumbles a quick thanks to his driver before collecting his bags and heading inside the lobby.
Dragging his bags behind him, Bron heads for the check-in desk where there is a blonde woman watching something on her phone to occupy her time.
"Evening, sir." The woman perks up when Bron approaches the desk. "What can I do for you?" She asks him with a polite smile.
"Yeah, room reserved for Bronson Steiner?" Bron answers the blonde.
The blonde nods and starts typing at the keyboard in front of her. Bron watches her eyebrows furrow in confusion for a brief moment before goes back to her keyboard.
"Is there a problem?" Bron speaks up after a few moment of silence.
"Yes, I'm afraid so." The blonde frowns and mumbles something under her breath. "Mr. Steiner, I'm afraid that there was an issue with our booking system. We gave your room away earlier today." She bites the inside of her cheek, embarrassed by the mix-up.
Bron frowns but tries not to take his frustration out on the poor receptionist in front of him. "Are there any other rooms available? Even just for the night?" He asks her.
"No, I'm sorry." The blonde shakes her head sheepishly. "We're booked up fully for that Wrestling show going on in the arena across the way." She explains.
"Damn." Bron grits his teeth. "Okay, do you know if anyone else around has a room available?" He tries his best to remain calm and civil about the whole situation.
The receptionist clicks her mouse a few times in silence and Bron watches her in silence.
Out in the parking lot, you finally arrive at the hotel after a painstaking flight. You collect your bags from the back of your Uber and thank him before heading inside. When you step into the quiet hotel lobby, you spot Bron talking with the receptionist at the front desk.
"Bron!" You walk over to Breakker with a smile.
The two of you knew each other in NXT and were friends. You got moved up to Smackdown about a year ago and lost touch with Bron due to always being on the road. But recently Bron has joined the Smackdown roster. So the two of you have been catching up.
"I thought I was the only one crazy enough to be getting in this late." You joke with a laugh and walk over to Bron at the front desk.
"YN, hey." Bron turns toward you with a surprised but friendly smile. But you can tell something is bothering him.
You glance at the receptionist who is feverishly clicking away at her computer then turn back to Bron. "What's going on? Sign in not working or something?" You ask Bron.
"They accidently gave my room away earlier today." Bron explains. "And now they're all booked up for the show. So she's trying to find me a new hotel." He gestures to the receptionist.
"Oh, I hate when that happens." You frown. "When the show was in Ontario a few months ago they accidently gave my room away. I ended up having to share a room with Waller since we had that storyline going." You explain. "And my god can that man snore. Ugh, it was hell."
The receptionist continues trying to fix Bron's problem when an idea pops into your head. You turn toward her with a friendly smile. "Miss? Can I get checked in real fast?" You ask her. "It's a room for YN LN?"
The receptionist nods and quickly checks you in with no problems. You take your keycard and turn toward Bron. "You can bunk with me for the night, Bron." You offer. "Then you can see about getting a different room tomorrow when it's not like 2am and more places are open." You suggest.
"Oh, I don't want to intrude, YN." Bron shakes his head.
"You aren't!" You insist. "Come on. I've got a room with a king bed, Plenty of room for you and those broad shoulders for the night." You tease with a small laugh. "Really, it's no trouble."
Bron reluctantly nods and you ask the receptionist for a spare keycard. She hands one over to Bron and the two of you head up to your room.
You reach your floor and head for your room. You unlock the door and head inside. The room is nothing special. Just a standard room with a tv, table, two chairs, and a king bed.
"Alright, well I'm going to grab a shower before I head to sleep." You set your bags down and dig around for your sleep-wear. "Make yourself at home."
Bron nods and watches you disappear into the bathroom. He sits down at the edge of the bed and sets his head in his hands followed by a deep sigh.
"What the hell am I doing?" Bron groans to himself once he hears the shower turn on in the bathroom.
A little over a month ago when Bron joined Smackdown you were the first person to congratulate him on his promotion. It had been almost a year since you and Bron had last seen each other, but you acted like no time had passed. And that exact moment was when Bron realized that he doesn't just want to be your friend anymore. No. The man has a hopeless crush on you. And now he's about to sleep in the same bed as you.
Around half and hour later you emerge from the bathroom dressed in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear while toweling your hair off. Bron chokes on air from his spot on the edge of the bed as you approach him.
"That the side you want, Bron?" You ask absentmindedly and walk around to the other side of the bed.
"Y-yeah." Bron nods, gaze following you all the way around the bed.
You toss your damp towel toward the bathroom door and hop up onto the bed. "Cool with me." You settle into the mattress and reach for your phone to plug it in. "I'll see you in the morning, Bron." You switch your side-table lamp off and snuggle into your pillow.
Bron remains in a sitting position for a while, his nerves paralyzing him. But after a while he finally calms himself enough to strip his shirt off and lay down.
You lay on the other side of the bed fast asleep on your back with your head turned toward Bron. Breakker lays in silence and watches the rise and fall of your chest, silently scoffing at the Tony D'Angelo shirt you're wearing.
Eventually Breakker does manage to fall asleep for a while. He's woken up a couple hours later when he suddenly feels a weight shift in the bed followed by a warm body right up against him. Bron's eyes shoot open and he finds you snuggled up into his side and still sleeping like a baby.
"Shit." Bron mumbles to himself as he stares down at your sleeping form.
Light is starting to stream in through the window, so it's got to be at least six by now. A part of Bron wants to flee back down to the lobby and get his room situation figured out. And he probably would if you weren't using him as a body pillow right now.
Bron's heart thumps in his chest and the noise is enough to make you stir in your sleep. "God you're warm." You sigh half-asleep and adjust your body a bit before snuggling back into Bron. "And cuddly, Bron." You add with a yawn.
Bron lays awake for around another hour before you eventually roll off of him and fully wake up for the morning.
"Morning, Bron." You yawn and sit up in bed.
"Morning." Bron replies and does the same.
You take a moment to stretch your arms over your head before you let yourself fall back down into bed. "Sleep well?" You ask Bron.
"Yeah, fine." Bron nods.
"Liar." You reply with a sly grin. "You slept for like two hours max last night." You laugh. "You were to busy having a crisis over being in the same bed as me, dork." You giggle and poke Bron in the back.
Your claim makes Bron turn around to face you. "How'd you know that?" He asks you.
"I'm a pretty light sleeper." You shrug. "Plus when I rolled over to your side of the bed I could her your heart about to burst out of your chest." You giggle and poke Bron's bare chest. "So. How long were you planning on pining over me like a lost puppy?" You ask him.
"I-I-I was not pining." Bron huffs in embarrassment.
You smirk and rise into a sitting position again. "Sure you weren't." You tease him. "That's why you're blushing right now. Because you aren't dying to see me naked." You wink at Bron.
Bron runs a frustrated hand over his face and you giggle at him. "What's so funny?" Bron asks you, clearly about to die from embarrassment.
"You are." You continue with your fit of giggles and sit back up in bed. "And criminally adorable when you're all flustered and embarrassed." You add. "So. Whadduya say, Bronson? You ready to admit you've got a thing for me? Or do I have to go shower alone?"
You watch Bron's eyes widen in surprise and you can't help but laugh again at his flustered expression. "So adorable." You tease. "Come on, big boy. Don't get all choir-boy-eques on me now." You scoot to the edge of the bed and grab Bron's hand.
"Well I'd be stupid to say no." Bron finally replies after a few seconds of contemplation.
"Atta boy!" You grin and continue on your journey to the bathroom, Bron trailing close behind you.
You are going to eat this poor awkward man alive. And you can't wait to see what he's got in store for you.
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petrichor-idyllic · 1 year
Note
HiI would like to request two Minho x female reader please.
1. Minho gets in the shower ro relax and reader joins him and they are starting fluffy but when they start cleaning each others body things get heated and it turns into smut.
2. Reader and Minho liked each other but noone had time to explore the feelings. But when Minho gets back from that night with Thomas in the maze the reader is so happy hes still alive and there is some tension building up...later on the keepers meeting (book scene) where Minho is a total hottie and says the most iconic stuff as usual reader cant help herself and once the meeting is over she suddenly kisses him.
Thank youuuuu <333
Okay, yes I can totally do this, however I am still new and bad at tumblr so idk how (or if it's even possible) for me to respond to something twice. So, here is the first one and I will try to write both and post them at around the same time, so keep your eye out for the second :))
REWARD AFTER A LONG DAY'S WORK
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MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST
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SUMMARY: See above- 1. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas.
WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, guess I've put it off long enough so have some actual smut. Unprotected intercourse. Reader is on birth control because I said so, we ain't having any Glader babies running around. Unedited because I refuse to reread my own sex scenes- cope. Minors DNI 18+.
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You and Minho have been dating for a while now. Everyone in the Glade knows because, well, it's kind of hard not to notice.
When Minho isn't out in the Maze, he's clinging to you like there's no tomorrow. Probably because for him, there might actually not be. His job is dangerous, and he could literally die every single time he heads out there.
So, he spends as much time as he physically can with you.
Not that you're complaining. You love Minho- I mean, who wouldn't? He's basically your personal guard dog, not to mention he's passionate and caring and does everything he can to make sure he's not making you uncomfortable.
He's literally the perfect boyfriend, much to the other Glader's dismay- it means you're probably not going to be single again anytime soon. And with you being the only girl, there's definitely some pouting in Minho's presence.
Speaking of your boyfriend, you haven't seen him since you greeted him at the Doors. He's been pretty busy recently, especially with Alby doubling down on the workload.
"Newt," you spot the blond from a mile away as he sits in a group of boys but that doesn't stop you from approaching him. People are starting to settle down for the night. The Doors are closed, dinner has been and gone, and the dim light of numerous flames is the only thing keeping the Glade alive. "Have you seen Minho?"
"Hm?" He blinks for a second, pulling himself out of his current conversation and processing what you just said. "Oh, yeah, he's in the shower- he got stuck in the Map Room late. 'Said sommet about needing to relax." The boy shrugs, clearly having not paid that much attention to his friend.
"Alright, thanks," you flash him a smile before heading in the direction of the shower block. The showers are actually normally empty at this time, because this is around the time that you take a shower, and the boys respect that.
"Minho?" The sound of running water fills the rows of showers, covered with curtains.
"Hm? Yeah?" He responds, voice gravelly and tired.
"Is everything okay? Newt said you needed to relax?" You creep further forward, not wanting to startle him as you stand outside of the closed sheet.
"Yeah," you can hear the smile in his voice, "yeah, I'm alright, just a rough day."
Silence settles as you can hear Minho quietly hum to himself out of satisfaction. You smirk to yourself for a second before you speak.
"Yanno, I also need to have a shower," you pause slightly, "do you mind if I join you?"
The curtain moves, not exposing Minho but he does stick his head out, smirking at you. "You wanna shower with me?"
You shrug, feigning innocence, "Might help you relax, yanno?" He rolls his eyes, dropping the curtain and letting it fall back in place.
"Get your ass in here." You snort a laugh, doing as you're told. You strip from your clothes, hooking them over the top of the curtain bar with Minho's clothes. There's no way you're leaving them on the floor. You're already taking a risk getting undressed in an open area- though the Gladers know better due to routine.
You move the worn piece of fabric, slipping into the small area as Minho has his back to you, hogging the water. Though, you take a second to admire your boyfriend's perfect form.
His back is muscular and toned- he's obviously got an athletes build. He runs the Maze all day, every day. But even so, seeing his perfect body us more than enough to have your heart racing, even if you see it pretty much every day.
"Are you gonna move, or what?" Minho scoffs as your blunt tone, stepping aside to let you squeeze next to him, allowing the luke-warm water to hit you both.
He looks down at you, his smile is soft as he drinks in your appearance. It's not like he hasn't seen it before- you guys struggle to keep your hands off of each other most of the time. But still, he always feels so lucky to have you, and he thinks you're gorgeous.
They could dump a bunch of girls in the Glade tomorrow and Minho wouldn't care.
You picked him- him! He at least has something good going for him.
"The shuck you staring at, pervert?" You joke and he jabs you in the ribs, causing you to squeak.
"Uh, my girlfriend? I'm allowed to look at my girlfriend last time I checked."
"I'm allowed to look at my girlfriend," you mock him, making him push his tongue into his cheek. "What happened today, anyway? I've barely seen you."
"Sorry," he mumbles, throwing his head back and letting the water wash through his hair, running down to the front of his neck and down his defined chest. "A couple of Runners are getting frustrated and have started causing problems. It happens every now and then after someone becomes a Runner, and they think they're gonna change the world or some shit, and then they throw a tantrum when nothing happens."
"That sounds pretty klunky," he hums in agreement. You and Minho are long past the honeymoon phase, but that's not a bad thing. You're comfortable with each other, and it also means you know one another, and your bodies, pretty well. "You want me to wash your back?"
"Of shuckin' course, I do," you roll your eyes at him, but you still take the soap off of the shelf. You run your hands over his back, letting your nails sink in, but you know Minho doesn't mind.
You trace your fingers over the occasional white line; the scars are old, and it's been a while since Minho's been seriously hurt. But they're still a bitter reminder that he's literally risking his life on a daily basis.
"Alright," Minho turns to face you, pressing a quick peck to your lips, "your turn- spin."
"You're not at scary as you look, you know that, right? The other boys would never let it go if they saw you acting like this."
"Yeah, yeah, but they're never gonna see it, are they?" You turn around, facing the wall as Minho's hands start to run along your back. "It's all for you." Minho has you rolling your eyes a lot, but you do release a snort as well at his cheesey behaviour.
You let yourself relax, melting into his touch as you lean back, resting your head against his shoulder. You let him massage you, feeling him press light kisses against your shoulder and the side of your neck.
"Minho.." You murmur, letting out a satisfied breath, feeling heat starting to surge between your legs. Minho had always been an expert at doing so little to get so much out of you. It's almost annoying, but definitely a skill to be sure.
"Hm?" His teeth graze against your throat from behind as his hands come to your hips. He's not forceful by any means, but you take the opportunity to push your ass back against him. He quickly reciprocates the action, as you feel him getting hard against you.
Likewise, it doesn't take much to get him going either.
His boldness grows as he very gently drags his fingers down your mid-drift. Your head starts to feel fuzzy, and you gasp as his hand only travels lower.
"Can I make you feel good?" He mumbles mainly into your hair as his warm breath catches against your ear. "Can I touch you?"
You nod, your words catching in your throat as you suddenly forget how to function.
"Use your words for me," it takes you a second, but overwhelmed by need in the growing steamy room, you manage to squeak out a vaguely strung-together sentence.
"Please, touch me, Minho."
He's more than pleased to oblige, dipping his fingers lower and between your folds. You breath hitches, becoming heavier as he starts to gently rub circles over your bundle of nerves.
His rhythm is painfully slow as he teases you, knowing exactly how to make you melt under his touch. You whimper, clinging to his arm for some kind of support.
Your body already aches for him, but with his current actions, he knows you're not going to achieve anything.
"Minho, please," you stress, grinding against his hand to try and desperately get some more friction. Well, he can't say no to you, so he increases his movements.
He adds a little bit more pressure, touching you exactly as you need to be touched. It doesn't take long for you to feel tense in your lower stomach, your body trembling, mumbling gasps escaping you.
And then Minho pulls away.
You whimper at the lack of contact, turning to face your boyfriend. An attempt of a pout is quickly dispersed as Minho pushes his lips to yours. You hum into his mouth as you let him push you against the cool wall of the shower.
One of your hands comes to the back of his neck as he holds your face and you hip. Your other hand brushes against Minho's hardened dick, breaking the kiss for a second.
"Can I-?" You ask.
"Please." He begs.
You run your thumb over the tip, feeling him shivering against you as you connect again. Slowly, you start to touch him more, but he doesn't let it last long.
"We've, uh, we've been un here a while- you wanna hurry this up before someone comes looking for us?"
You smirk. "Sounds like a good idea."
Minho's mouth goes to your neck, hiking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist. His teeth nip at your skin as you gasp, feeling him fill you.
His pace starts slow. Probably because you're not exactly in the most natural position. But with your soft mewling into his ear and nails carving into his back is more than enough to make him rougher.
He knows your body perfectly, and he can tell you're close simply from the noises you're making. As much as he'd hate to admit it, he still hasn't quite built up a resilience to your vagina just yet, which is why he puts more attention on you. Finishing too early is natural, but he's still embarrassed by it.
His fingers once again reach for your clit, and very quickly waves of pleasure are washing over you, leaving you trembling and moaning as Minho holds you in place.
After a few more thrusts, he groans, trying to use the crook of your neck to stifle his noises. His body relaxes, falling limp. You listen to his heavy breathing for a short while, taking the time to compose yourself.
"You good?" You chuckle as he pulls back, also pulling out of you. In response, he kisses you again.
"I shucking love you," he mumbles as he presses your foreheads back together.
You, once again, roll your eyes, but you can't help the soft smile playing on your lips. "I love you too, slinthead."
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Yeah, okay, I've actually finally wrote smut. And it's not even good smut- I am not proud of this. But I also refuse to reread it because I cannot read my own sex scenes without cringing so y'all are just gonna have to deal with it.
I'm definitely better at writing spice and fluff- but I am here to entertain the people and ask and you shall receive.
Bit dramatic lmao, but anyway I hope y'all kinda enjoy :))
I am sorry.
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ao719 · 7 months
Text
…Sometimes Not (Part 11)
All I’ve Ever Known
This is a submission for @choicesflashfics, using prompt #1, and @choicesoctober prompt ‘best friend’.
Title inspo: Only You - Matthew Perryman Jones
A/N: This is an au mini series to my Always You story. Not beta’d. Please excuse any errors.  
Book/Pairing: TRR; Liam x OC (Reyna)
Rating: T • Warnings: None but some mild language.
Word count: 2500
Catch up here
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Sitting on the balcony of the estate in Valtoria, Liam sipped his morning coffee as his eyes skimmed over a newspaper. 
Valtoria hosted its annual Lantern Festival the previous day, and the King had been invited to be the first guest to stay overnight at the duchy’s estate since its recent updates and repairs had been completed. 
The estate had always been a wonder and one of the most elegant, but with its new design, it was almost otherworldly. They had done an incredible job bringing the place back to life since the King’s announcement months prior that he was hoping to instate a new ruler over the duchy since it had gone unclaimed for so long. 
Taking another sip of coffee, Liam’s eyes slid to where his overnight bag sat on the bed bench inside the master suite. Inside the bag was the worn leather-bound journal Reyna had given him to read. While he was packing for his trip to Valtoria, he grabbed it from his nightstand; it was where it had been since the day he arrived home from his trip to New York. 
And it had remained unopened. 
Yes, Liam promised Reyna he would read it, and he had every intention of doing so because he would never break a promise to her … but he’d been terrified of what he was going to find inside. “You think I simply fell out of love with you over the years … but hopefully reading this will make you understand. It will tell you everything you need to know.” He’d convinced himself that whatever was in that journal wasn’t anything good for him. 
Was it a detailed dissertation on all the reasons why she fell out of love with him? 
Was it everything she did to help herself let him go? 
Was it a compiled list of all the reasons why they never should have crossed that line to begin with and why they’d never work?
Reyna said she was hopeful that it would make him understand, but why would Liam want to understand that? Simply knowing was hard enough; he was content not being privy to all of the tragic details.
Liam had to read it, however, and fast … because Reyna would be arriving in Cordonia tomorrow evening. He was a fairly quick reader, but that journal was thick and he had no idea what or how much was inside; he hadn’t even fanned through the pages, afraid of possibly catching a glimpse of something he wasn’t yet prepared to see.
Liam sighed as he stood and walked inside; he dipped his hand into the bag and pulled out the journal. He flipped it over in his hands, studying it. For all the staring he’d done at it since it was given to him, he still hadn’t been able to place why it looked so familiar. 
Letting out a breath, Liam glanced out the double doors that led to the balcony, staring at the waterfall across the gorge in thought; he didn’t have much time left to fulfill his promise. 
Just get it over with, Liam told himself. 
Letting out another sigh, Liam exited the room, looking for the estate’s majordomo; once he found her, the King informed her that he’d be staying another night. He relieved her and the rest of the staff of their duties for the next two days so he could have the place to himself. 
When the estate had finally cleared out, Liam headed back to the master suite; he returned to his seat on the balcony with the book resting in front of him on the table. He let out a breath as he finally flipped it open to the first page.
Liam’s eyes first fell on the date written at the top … the day of his wedding. Then, he saw the first line.
“Dear Liam …”
Pausing on those first two words, Liam furrowed his brows. It’s a letter? Curious, he finally fanned through the book; every page started the same way: “Dear Liam …” 
The journal was filled with letters Reyna had written to him. 
It wasn’t what Liam had thought it would be … and now he truly had no idea what to expect from it. 
Letting out another nervous breath, Liam flipped back to the beginning. He scanned over the page, noticing spots where the ink had smeared and the paper was cockled … spots where her tears had fallen onto the pages. 
With a tightness growing in his chest, Liam finally started to read. 
“Dear Liam, I just watched you say your vows … and I feel like a piece of me just died …”
****
Hours had passed since Liam started reading. He couldn’t seem to stop. He’d been consumed by every word, and every time he flipped the page to a new letter, he found himself holding his breath, not knowing what was coming. 
Liam checked every date with each new letter; Reyna had written to him almost every single day. Some letters were long and deep and vulnerable while others were short, some a mere sentence or two. 
Reyna wrote to him about her days. 
 “Today without you was particularly hard …”
Reyna wrote to him about her accomplishments.
“I’m officially done with school. I’m not going to the ceremony, though. I told my parents I just didn’t feel like it, but the truth is much deeper than that. You’ve been to both my graduations before this: high school and undergrad. I can’t bear to go because I know I’ll look for you in that crowd … and you won’t be there …” 
Reyna wrote to him every time something reminded her of him. 
“I went to an apple festival upstate today. Obviously, you were heavy on my mind because you and apples go hand-in-hand. It made me think about all the times we spent together in Applewood. I really miss those days …”
Reyna wrote to reminisce, even adding photographs to some of the pages. 
“We had so much fun that night. Do you remember? I’ll never forget how much we laughed.” 
Reyna wrote to him when she and Luca became official. And she wrote to him when they got engaged. 
“I hate saying I’m happy because I don’t know if I can truly be happy without you. But he’s good, Liam. And he loves me. A part of me feels so guilty, though. Choosing anyone but you feels like … settling. I know that’s a horrible thing to say. He doesn’t deserve that … and I don’t deserve him …” 
Liam rubbed his hand over his mouth as he blinked away the sting in his eyes. Despite knowing where they ended up, it was still hard to read about how Reyna had almost moved on. She was fully prepared to have a future with someone else, and his stomach twisted in knots at the mere thought of it. 
Liam continued to read letter after letter. 
Each page detailed what Reyna’s day-to-day life was like without him. 
Liam was reliving their time apart through her eyes … and he went through every emotion with her as he read, adding some tears of his own to the pages alongside hers. 
*******
Wincing from the kink in his neck, Liam let out a low groan; pausing his reading only to eat, he’d eventually moved from the balcony to his bed when night started to fall. He’d fallen asleep reading and woke up, slouched uncomfortably against the headboard. 
When his eyes opened, Liam saw the journal sprawled across his chest. He’d made it about halfway through, and despite being unable to put the book down, the heaviness in his eyes from reading all day — and from his emotions getting the better of him at times — had him succumbing to sleep.
Liam shifted his position on the bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before he glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. It was 7 a.m.; he had to leave there by noon. Shit. Letting out a breath, he lifted the journal, scanning over the page he’d left off on. It detailed Reyna’s first time viewing a venue for her wedding; she said nothing about it felt right.
Setting the book facedown to mark his page, Liam got up and headed out of the room. 
After making a fresh pot of coffee and plating some fruit for breakfast, Liam headed back to the room; when he stepped inside, he set the tray he carried everything up on down on the bed before sitting next to it. 
With only a few hours to finish before he’d have to leave to prepare for Reyna’s arrival, Liam lifted the journal, picking up where he’d left off. 
****
Within a couple of hours, Liam found himself three-quarters of the way through the journal. When he flipped another page, he checked the date at the top before his eyes slid down to the letter. 
It was from the day Reyna had called off her engagement. 
“I know I made the right decision, but I feel awful, Liam. I never should have let it drag on this long, but I’m only now realizing that I wasn’t truly happy. I was simply distracted from my sadness. It’s not fair to hold him to this impossible standard that he will never meet, though. The simplest way to put it … he wasn’t you …” 
Liam let out a shuddered breath, feeling his eyes sting as he read those words again. He wasn’t you. Clearing his throat and blinking away the tears, he continued to read.
****
The further Liam got into the journal, the more he expected Reyna’s words to start to shift and change … to tell him she was getting better, that she was starting to let him go. But with each page turned … those words never came.
Each letter only seemed to be more riddled with heartache and longing. 
“I’d give anything just to hear your voice right now.” 
“I’m not myself. I haven’t been for a long time. I walk around with a permanent missing piece … a void inside me that will never be filled. I wish you were here, Liam.”
“I miss you so much it fucking hurts.”
“I wish there wasn’t so much of you left behind inside me. Laughs. Smiles. Inside jokes. So much history. A decade’s worth of memories.”
“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this, Liam … how much longer I can pretend that you not being in my life isn’t destroying me. I miss my best friend.” 
Liam found himself struggling to rein in his emotions. He had often wondered during those years apart if Reyna ever thought about him the way he thought about her. 
This journal proved that she had. 
When Liam finally found himself on the last page, he momentarily froze. He wiped his eyes and blew out a slow breath, trying to gather himself. 
With a slightly trembling hand, Liam flipped the page. When he checked the date, his brows furrowed before his gaze shifted to the letter.
Dear Liam,  It’s been three years, but I finally made it to the last page of this journal … and I think it’s going to be the most difficult letter yet.  I’m in Paris for a charity function on my mom’s behalf. I haven’t been here in years, but the first thing I thought of when I landed was you. After the event, I came right to the bridge where we put our lock. And get this: I actually found it. I’m sitting next to it right now, hoping it’ll somehow give me the strength I need to write these next words.  When I finish this letter, I’ll need to close the book … and not just this one … but our book as well. God, it hurts to even write those words because I don’t ever want to close the book of ‘us’, but I think it’s time I face the reality that we’ll never be anything more than two people with a past and some memories.  Maybe our fate was something decided long ago. And no matter how much we wanted it to be different — how much I wanted it to be different — we couldn’t escape a fate that had already been sealed. We can’t change what’s been written in the stars. No matter how much I might want to ignore it, I need to come to terms with the fact that this is how things were supposed to be … even if I don’t understand it.  I wish I knew the purpose of it all … the purpose of the universe letting me get to know and love you only for you to be taken away from me. There’s got to be a life lesson somewhere in all of this, right? I don’t know what it is yet … but I hope to figure it out someday.  I wish you were here with me right now. I’m looking at this lock … this piece of us that stood the test of time in a way that we couldn’t. And just like that word we etched into the metal … you and what we had will forever be etched inside me, no matter how much time goes by. It’s said that everyone has one great love in their life, and you are, without a doubt, mine.  Loving you and being loved by you was my greatest honor, and I could spend lifetimes trying to force myself to fall out of love with you, but I know that it would be futile to even try. My heart has been yours since I was 16, and even though I have to close our book, what I feel for you will never change. No matter where I am, what I feel, or who I become, it will always begin and end with you. You will forever have a piece of me that I will never get back. And I hope that wherever you are, you know that I will, unequivocally and with my entire heart and soul, always love you, Liam. Only you.  Always you. 
Tears streaked Liam’s cheeks as he finished reading the last letter; his breath hitched as his blurred vision skimmed over the words again and again and again. And as he did, he realized when this last letter was written: the night they had run into each other on the bridge in Paris a year ago. 
That’s why the journal looked familiar; it’s what had fallen out of her bag. Liam remembered seeing it as he crouched down to help her pick up her things, how he could have sworn he saw his name written on the pages but hadn’t gotten a good enough glance before she snatched it away. 
Reyna filled a thousand pages in that journal trying to express both her unwavering love for him and her heartbreak over what she lost. And she had written the last one on the same night they found each other again. 
A reunion written in the stars … a fate far from sealed. 
Liam finally understood what Reyna meant when she said that the journal would tell him everything he needed to know. 
All this time … she had loved him all this time. 
“Liam?”
Hearing the soft lilt of her voice, Liam lifted his tear-filled eyes to see Reyna standing in the doorway. 
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toournextadventure · 1 year
Text
everyone but her pt.6
a/n: we get a bit of backstory about our dear little reader. let's see how she handles parents weekend, shall we?
Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: light swearing Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @n0p35 @suzhiman @gengen64 (Masterlist)
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Parents Weekend. Most of the students at Nevermore loved it; it gave them an opportunity to show their family how they were doing, who their friends were, what they were doing with their young lives. And truthfully, it was a joyous weekend. There was more laughter and joy than any other point of the year, even the Rave’N.
Even in the past, you had enjoyed Parents Weekend. The few days Momma and Pop could come up and visit and talk and give you the family you never truly had. Filling that void and giving you the space and opportunity to just be a child. You and Nicky had never been more grateful for something you hadn’t realised was so important.
You understood why they hadn’t been able to come the past few years, truly you did. The others had plays, concerts, events, exams. They were all a little more important than a weekend away, especially when it was a full day’s train ride. They had offered to come, but you told them to stay; being one of the oldest definitely had it’s downsides.
But you enjoyed seeing everyone else’s families rolling in, all the excited chattering and hugs. Even Enid’s family had arrived. You gave them a quick wave and polite smile before running off to hide. If Mrs. Sinclair made one more comment about no one coming to visit you, you were going to scream. The concern was sweet, but there was no point in dredging that fact back up.
“Will you be heading out soon?”
Even though your heart rate accelerated at the sudden appearance of a voice, you shouldn’t have been surprised. Principle Weems knew of your plans for the day and had already given explicit permission to be out all weekend. So why you flinched at her voice, you had no idea.
Must have been nerves.
“A lot sooner now that Mrs. Sinclair saw me,” you said, sending a smile to Mr. Sinclair when they all turned to look at you. “I’m trying to avoid the attention this year.”
“I know you were planning on staying away for the weekend,” Principle Weems started, “but maybe tomorrow you and I could socialise with the other families.”
The tone in her voice, now that was a reason to be surprised. An uncertainty accentuated by the slightest shake behind her words. Without drawing any attention to you both, you looked at her out of the corner of your eye to see that yes, that forced smile of hers was real.
It would mean cutting your trip in half. These trips only happened every other Sunday and this was your one shot at a full weekend. Would it be worth it? Is it what he would want you to do? Probably, you thought with a silent sigh. As much as it felt like throwing your heart into a juicer, you knew what the best thing to do would be.
“I would love to,” you said far too softly. Hopefully Principle Weems had heard you because you weren’t sure you could say it again around the tightness in your throat.
But Principle Weems smiled. “Then we will see you tomorrow.”
She left you standing there with nothing but a dry mouth and an uneasiness in your stomach. It continued to plague you on the flight to Hanover, and reached a crescendo as you greeted Nurse Jackie at the desk and walked into the room. Only when you sat down in your chair by the bed did you feel that anxiety and fear metamorphosise into a comfort you couldn’t put into words.
“Hey bubba” you said as you started digging in your bag for the book. “You look like shit, when was the last time you shaved?”
The high pitched, headache inducing beeping of the heart monitor answered.
“We’ll clean you up before I leave,” you huffed, “I’m not kissing your scruffy cheek.”
The ventilator hissed.
“I told you about that girl I like, right?” You asked. The chair creaked underneath you as you pulled your legs up and crossed them. “The goth girl that looks like she wants to murder everyone, except it’s kinda hot?”
One spike of the heart monitor.
“I was thinking of asking her out again.”
An increase in the beeping of the heart monitor.
“No, it’s not a date." You rolled your eyes. "She doesn’t use that word.”
Another rapid increase.
“I know that’s what it is, she just doesn’t like the word.”
The heart monitor returned back to normal.
“Anyway, I need your thoughts. Would it be stupid to ask her to the Rave’N? It’s not either of our style but it’s still tradition so I just… need some brotherly advice.”
Three breaths from the ventilator before the heart monitor spiked twice.
“You were supposed to say yes,” you said with a huff. “Fine, I’ll ask. But if she turns me down, I’m blaming you.” You pointed your finger at the bed. With a smirk to yourself, you flipped the pages of the book open. “Okay, let’s see, we stopped after Gandalf and the Balrog, right?”
The heart monitor spiked once.
Your smirk turned into a smile before you started reading. Line after line, page after page. At the end of each chapter, you would look up to check on your captive audience, listening for any indication of his thoughts from the heart monitor. With each new chapter your stomach dropped all over again, some sad desperation for a response that was never going to come.
A groan escaped your lips as you shifted in the chair, stretching your legs out until they rested on the bed and you could lean back a little further. You made the mistake of looking up in the middle of the chapter. Your throat constricted, the words becoming harder to force out.
“Sorry,” you said as you cleared your throat. You picked up where you had left off.
Nicky laid there and listened as you read through the rest of the book, the uneasiness in your voice disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.
—---
There was nothing in heaven or hell that was quite like love. It came in all shapes and sizes, from romantic to familial to platonic. That unbearable queasiness that settles in your stomach like a body settles at the bottom of a lake and gives a certain sort of intrigue and comfort. To know that someone would kill for you, to die for you. That was what made love so exciting.
Morticia could see it in everyone present at the Parents Weekend events. Although the day was rather dreadful - far too bright and sunny - everyone was filled with love for whoever they were with. She could see it in Enid Sinclair’s family, whom she had introduced herself to. It was present in Wednesday, although a much different expression (she knew Wednesday still loved them).
And she saw it in Larissa and the young woman accompanying her.
She had noticed Larissa immediately, as she so often did, but the young woman caught her eye. The way she would look up at Larissa as if she hung the moon in the night sky. Morticia knew Larissa had no children, and yet she looked at the young lady the same way Morticia looked at her own children.
“I’ll be right back,” Morticia told Gomez before making her way to where Larissa was standing.
“Morticia,” Larissa called out once she was near. She sounded far more joyful than usual. “Always a pleasure.”
“I see you’re enjoying the festivities for the day,” Morticia said even though her gaze fell to the young woman who was actually quite tall, now that she was up close.
“We are,” Larissa said, her smile softening as she looked at her companion. “Allow me to introduce you both, this is Morticia Addams.”
“Oh, you’re Wednesday’s mom,” the young lady exclaimed with a grin and enthusiastically reaching her hand out, “I’m Y/N.”
Ah. So that’s who you were. Morticia knew exactly who you were. Numerous times she had heard Wednesday or Enid talk about you, even just in passing, with an admiration that she rarely saw from her own daughter. Her features would soften and she would threaten you bodily harm far less often than usual. 
It had been so unusual at first to hear Wednesday talk about anyone, let alone someone that brought out a completely different side of her. They were only occasional mentions of you, but they were enough for Morticia to catch on to it. One mention of your name and Wednesday’s eyes would go wide before trailing off to the side, her train of thought completely derailed for a fraction of a second too long.
While Morticia would never proclaim to know for a fact that her daughter had feelings for you, it was easy enough to tell. And when Enid had let it slip all those weeks ago that you had taken Wednesday to perform an autopsy? Then the immediate darkening of her daughter’s cheeks and nose before changing the subject? It was all Morticia needed to know.
And now she could put a face to the name.
Across the field, Wednesday stared in abject horror as her mother shook your hand. The same horror that she assumed one would feel when witnessing something traumatic, such as a car accident. A feeling that settled deep in her stomach, clawed it’s way up her throat because as horrifying as the scene was, she just couldn’t look away.
That feeling of horror slowly morphed into one that she couldn’t explain when you smiled at her mother and your feather’s twitched at something she had said. That single twitch, the ruffle, put a weight on her heart and forced it to beat harder, so hard that she could feel the physical pain within her chest. Why were you smiling at her mother like that? What had she said to make your wings twitch in that childishly giddy way?
Oh no.
Her heart’s struggle to beat came to a full stop like a car hitting a brick wall. Her mother was leading you over to where Wednesday and her family were situated. The way you followed her, with your hands swinging at your sides, reminded Wednesday of an avenging angel; dark and foreboding and your eyes on every little thing that passed.
She wanted you to follow her around like that. Would you keep her safe from those who wished her and her family harm? Her heart told her you would, you always would, you had already done so time and time again. But as you got closer and closer to seeing her family, her entire being, her mind told her no. No, you wouldn’t keep her safe, you wouldn’t keep her family safe. You were far too innocent, far too sweet, so adverse to trouble.
But she wanted you to stay. She needed you to stay the way a gaping wound needed stitches. Craved your touch the way a an infection craved moisture. It was humiliating to think such thoughts, Wednesday knew that, but if it was the truth then it was the truth. She needed you to stay and be near even if it was as nothing more than an acquaintance.
Though she refused to ever admit it. It was a weakness she would never act upon.
Her mother finally brought you to the family and introduced you to Wednesday’s father and brother. You shook their hands, a polite smile on your face, and Wednesday felt that budding feeling in her stomach again. Your smile should have been reserved for someone more deserving than her father and brother.
You were invited to sit with them for a time, and you agreed quickly. Most would have tucked tail and ran, no one quite understanding how her family could be the way they were. But you sat down beside Pugsly - why would you not sit beside her? - and engaged in conversation far easier than most.
All Wednesday could do as you talked was stare at you. At the way you gestured your hands wildly as you talked, or how you held eye contact with everyone when they talked. You got along with Pugsly; why could you not get along with her the same way? Your conversations with him flowed as effortlessly as a river flowed into the ocean. Wednesday certainly couldn’t hold the same amount of engagement.
She noted the way your eyes flicked over to her every now and then as you talked or listened. Whenever someone would ask you a question, you would look at Wednesday first, almost as if asking permission to answer. She would give you a singular nod, and you would continue. What would cause you to look to her in such a way? Surely you knew how to answer questions on your own, did you not? And yet, she almost found herself enjoying the attention, no matter how discreet.
“I should probably get back,” you finally said once the conversation had lulled. “It was a genuine pleasure to meet all of you.”
You gave a polite wave, shook her father’s and Pugsly’s hands, kissed her mother’s knuckles, and walked back to where Weems was standing. Wednesday already felt feelings about you leaving; feelings that she didn’t know what to call since she admittedly hadn’t felt them before. She didn’t know why, but she desperately hoped her family had liked you, had seen you in the same light that she oh so often did. She-
-were you wearing her sweater?
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sc0tters · 6 months
Text
Stay | Thomas Milic
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summary: If there was one good thing about staying in the WHL it was you.
request: yes/no
warnings: swearing?
word count: 1.05k
authors note: I truly do not know what this was and I tried to write it like two or three times and just never really liked it. This is a trope I've used before so I wanted to end it differently. This is also goalie number 2 in the goalie dedication, so if you want to go see number one then you can find it here!
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You felt sick as you reread the headline. 
Thomas was moving to Norfolk and he hadn’t even told you. Six months of giving him everything and allowing him to become one of the most integral parts of your life in Seattle. 
Having had grown up out of state when you arrived at the university of Washington and found a friend in the goalie. Never in your life had you predicted that it was going to end in the way that it seemed it was meant to now. 
On the other hand Thomas had been sat in his car staring at his lock screen that was a picture of you in his jersey. His arm had been wrapped around your waist as he kissed your head once he won playoff game. 
That day had been filled with so much love as Thomas had asked you to be his girlfriend. But now he was trying to figure out how he was meant to tell you that he was moving across the country. 
Sure you both knew that the possibility was there especially with him being with the Jets. But still the amount of hurt that went through your heart in that moment was something that not even you could predict in that moment. 
So that was how you ended up in an emotional state wrapped up in his hoodie with tears streaming down your cheeks as you looked at the transfer announcement. Silently praying that you were in the midst of a horrible dream “go away.” You mumbled hearing a knock at the door.
But Thomas couldn’t leave you that easily “open the door f’me.” He begged hoping that you would listen to him. 
Your weight shifted beneath you as you made your way to the door “what do you want?” You sighed opening the door to see him.
It seemed that Thomas had also been struggling today as his hair was messy “I needed to see you.” His confession hung in the air as it made you feel sick “did you decide that before or after you booked the flight to Norfolk?” You crossed your arms as you clicked your tongue.
Thomas sighed as he felt like he deserved that blow “so I take it you know?” The hockey player chewed at his cheek as he ran his fingers through his hair. Even though he had requested a few hours to tell people, this was still his worst outcome. 
You nodded as you scrunched your nose in disgust “that my boyfriend is leaving?” You asked as you nodded subconsciously moving to the side so that you could let him into your apartment.
Of course he took it as he dropped his bag on your floor “I need to hug you baby.” Thomas pleaded when tears formed in his eyes as the idea of him leaving you actually went through his brain “you don’t get to do that.” You chocked on your words as you frowned.
It probably would have made you sound like an idiot as you were upset that he was leaving you “I wanted to tell you, just me I did.” Thomas reached out to grab your hand but for once your reaction time was quicker than his when you pulled away. 
You wanted to yell at him or say that he needed to leave. Yet somehow you still couldn’t do that “when did you know you were going?” Your lip caught between your teeth as your eyes screwed shut silently praying that his answer was this morning. 
Thomas finally felt like something was in his favour “I thought it was gonna happen but they called me last night and said I needed to be in this morning.” He began to ramble as it made you laugh “T-” you raised your hand cut him off.
It made him stare at you as his lips screwed shut “when do you leave?” The new question came into your mind as it made your chest feel tight “tomorrow.” At that point you were crying finally giving the boy a chance to hug you.
His arms were warm as it comforted your soul when his lips kissed your forehead “let it out.” He sighed rubbing circles against your back.
Thomas knew you were going to be hurt by him leaving but never would he have predicted this “I don’t want to say goodbye.” You confessed looking at him with a pout “you don’t have to.” Thomas ran his fingers through your hair wanting to comfort you. 
The boy tilted your jaw up “I still love you.” The hockey player smiled as he wiped your tear away “I did really want to tell you first.” Thomas’ voice was soft as he sighed.
You felt your heart swell at his words “you love me?” It wasn’t something that you two had spoken of yet “of course I do baby.” His fingers pinched at your chin making you laugh.
He didn’t even care that you hadn’t said it back as he squeezed your hand “I know you hate packing but maybe you want to come help me?” Thomas proposed as he had now decided that he wanted to spend every last second of the rest of his time with you “I’ll put my feelings aside just for you.” You nodded pushing yourself onto your tippy toes to peck his lips.
And that was exactly what you two had done. From sleeping together in his room one final time to sealing that final box, all the way to finally being at the airport. 
Thomas watched you in all of his clothes as he moved half of his closet into your place so now they were basically your clothes “you promise you won’t miss me too much?” The goalie smirked as he pecked your lips wrapping his arms around your waist. 
The two of you were enjoying your moment until the sound of his boarding call came in “I can’t promise that.” You pouted causing him to sigh “but I can promise that I do love you.” Your confession made his pupils grow full.
He squeezed your body as he spun you around “Thomas!” You squealed as your hands squeezed his shoulders “I love you too.” The hockey player mumbled moving his hands to your face so that he could make this final kiss count.
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