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#it's been bothering me so i fixed it after like 2 months .-.
dadailybocch · 3 months
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Hey, you two. You're scarin' the hoes, stop that.
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like a regular bin, not even recycled or anything
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cheolhub · 9 months
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BABY FEVER — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL ࿐
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summary. after a picnic date at the park goes horribly wrong, all choi seungcheol wants for his birthday is to fuck a baby into you.
wc. 3.4k+
warnings. established relationship, kinda ? dom!cheol, f. reader, pussy-drunk-bitch-in-heat cheol, breeding kink, literal baby making, marriage kink if you squint, reader referred to as mommy (x2), unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), light body worship (f. receiving), vulgar language… heavy praise, pet names [baby, angel, princess] — MINORS DNI 18+
note. it’s an international holiday (aka cheol day) hehehe HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LVRBOY <333 forgive me bc this is actually so rough… i forced myself to finish it in time for his bday 😍 please be gentle!! i promise ill make it up to all of u with a MUCH better cheol fic -3- happy coupsie day 2 u all x (thank yew @jeonghantis for reading this for me TWICE and always encouraging me <3)
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you have to admit, this is not how you thought seungcheol’s birthday lunch would pan out. 
no, you definitely did not expect to end the day with your legs wrapped around your beloved boyfriend’s waist while he split you open on his cock, breathily promising that he’ll give you a baby. a ring. a life for the both of you.
because when you took said boyfriend out for a picnic in the park, you did expect a serene lunch date with him and his favorite food. you even wore the sundress he bought for your birthday. it was supposed to be the perfect gift. 
but you hadn’t realized how busy it’d be. how could you have known? it was just a random tuesday afternoon in the midst of august– arguably the hottest month of the year. who, besides the two of you, would want to be out on a day like this?
rowdy, unrestrained children. that’s who. 
it seems that children and parents have nothing better to do than crash birthdays and cause you massive headaches. 
when you looked over at seungcheol on the blanket halfway through your food, you discerned the faraway look in his eyes. he hasn’t said much. much less of how he feels about his “gift.” he wasn’t there– probably disassociated because of the noise. you realized then that you probably should’ve picked a different spot… or stuck to the homemade candlelit dinner you had initially planned. or done literally anything else. 
“cheollie… do you wanna leave?” you asked, concern laced in your voice. “we don’t have to stay, we can go home and do whatever you want.”
his jaw clenched and unclenched at the sound of your voice. he offered a shuddered breath and gave you a curt nod. “yeah, let’s go home.” 
and so you did. you felt defeated as seungcheol bruisingly gripped the steering wheel the entire ride home. you felt defeated as you sat in the passenger seat thinking of ways to fix his now-ruined birthday. you felt defeated as you two rode away in silence. complete silence. 
when you arrive back at your home, you dejectedly drop the basket off in the kitchen without bothering to unpack it. cheol stays on your tail the entire time, following you back to your room after throwing the keys on the island next to the picnic basket. 
and when you reach your destination, you let him in before closing the door behind you and then he pounces.  he has you pinned to said door in an instant. 
completely thrown off by his change in behavior, you splutter out, “ch-cheol, what the fuck?!”
“baby,” he mutters breathily, his eyes scanning your features. the faraway look in his eyes has been replaced, both of them filled with something completely different. lust. it’s like the last hour never even happened.
he has you caged in. one of hands pressed flat against the door and the other gripping your waist. there’s a mere inch of a gap separating the two of you and you can feel all the heat radiating off of his body. 
still wide-eyed, staring up at him, you softly– apprehensively– ask, “cheol? are you okay?” 
admittedly, seungcheol is not okay. not in the slightest. he doesn’t want to scare you, but watching kids run around– hearing how happy they were– had him thinking thoughts. thoughts of having a kid of his own. 
it had his heart fluttering at first, the idea of having a mini him running around the house. it filled him with the utmost joy.
then his thoughts escalated. thoughts of having a kid turned into thoughts of having a kid with you. thoughts of getting you round and pregnant with his child rotted large portions of his brain away.
and it progressively got worse and worse. with every passing minute, the images in his brain became more clear till the only thing on his mind was folding you in half and fucking a baby into you while you begged for it. 
he’s not sure how to relay said thoughts to you. the two of you have been dating for years and you’re in a really good place, both financially and emotionally.
but dropping the ‘i want a kid’ bomb? before he’s even proposed? it’s taboo…untraditional… it’s something you potentially don’t even want, so he should ease into the conversation of children and marriage.
but…choi seungcheol thinks he’s lost the ability to think and speak clearly. that’s why he blurts it out without logically thinking it over, lost in a haze of lust and need and burning hot desire. 
“wanna have a baby,” 
your stomach drops and the air in your lungs vanishes, leaving you breathless.
“w-what…cheol? a baby?” you ask slowly. “you… wanna have a baby?” 
a small growl bubbles in his chest when you repeat his words. “wanna give you a baby.” 
heat creeps up your neck and within seconds– when you realize the intent of his words– your entire body burns as arousal courses through your veins. seungcheol doesn’t just want to have a kid… he wants to fuck one into you. 
you can’t say you’ve never thought of having one before, but it was always farther down the line. after marriage and settling down.
even still, your stomach swirls in anticipation, imagining seungcheol as a father. as your husband. 
so you reply, “do… do you think we’re ready for that? we’re still pretty young and… we aren’t married…”
your words trail off and you look away, eyes trained on his chest instead. 
“i’m gonna marry you.” he says as a matter of factly. “look at me.” he demands, the hand next to your head moves to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “there’s no doubt in my mind. i’m going to marry you, baby.”
hearing that is surreal. he’s said it twice and the words are still rattling around in your empty brain. he’s gonna marry you. there’s no doubt in his mind. 
you’d think your heart is about to lurch out of your chest the way it pounds against your ribcage. your palms are dripping with sweat, your knees are buckling about ready to give out on you, your stomach is in knots because, fuck yes, you want this. you want him. and– you guessed it– you want to bear his child. 
you don’t know how long you’ve been standing, blankly staring at him. before you can even speak up, seungcheol is dropping to his knees in front of you, both of his hands on your waist now.
you almost think he’s going to propose, leaving you even more speechless, but he leaves a soft kiss on your tummy. he’s gentle, kissing you through the fabric of your dress right above your navel. his lips venture down, though, and his pleading eyes look up at you waiting for your okay. 
you let out the breath you were holding, nodding your head.
and cheol swears he would lose it if he hadn’t already. 
he reaches for your panties under your dress, yanking them off your body and letting them pool at your feet. his hand moves to hold your dress up, wrinkling it in his grip. the other lifts one of your legs and drapes it over his shoulder before he finally dives into your cunt.
“cheol!” you gasp as you feel his tongue lay flat against your folds. your hands thread through his hair, gripping at his locks as he laps up your arousal. “sl-slow– fuck, baby– slow down,”
seungcheol is a giver, that’s always been common knowledge.
but you tend to forget that he is exceptionally greedy when it comes to eating you out. he can never get enough of you, slurping at your hole and sucking your clit till you’ve cum countless times on his face. a glutton for pussy, you could say.
it’s why he can’t slow down despite your request. his tongue digs into you while he noses at your clit, moaning against your cunt to bring you closer to the euphoric feeling you’ve been craving since he asked to fuck a baby into you. 
and it works. it always does. your moaning and whining and begging and it’s fucking music to his ears. 
“tastes so good, angel,” he moans against you, words coming out muffled. the vibrations shock your body and you can’t help but jolt, back arching off the door. your hands tighten their grip on his hair, pushing him further into your cunt. 
and that’s the thing about seungcheol being insatiable. you always end up greedier than him. it’s like an orchestrated plan. 
“more,” you beg through a whine, grinding your pussy into his face. “please more, feels s’good, cheollie,” 
he groans against you again, digging his nails into your thigh eliciting your pretty mewls. he tightly wraps his lips around your clit, flicking the swollen bud with his tongue. you throw your head back against the door, eyebrows knitting together as you’re overcome with pleasure. 
it hits you before you can even blink. you’re letting out a breathless mantra of seungcheol’s name, your stomach knots up, your breathing increases and you completely lose control as you let go all over his face. 
he keeps eating you out, whining while lapping up your release as if he’d been deprived of the taste of your cum for weeks. as if he hadn’t eaten you out just last night. and the morning before that. and three times in a row the day before.
when he’s finally done, he gently sets your leg back down. he observes the way you tremble, struggling to keep balance so his hands are back on your waist, releasing the wrinkled fabric and letting it fall back over your legs.
he stands to his feet, towering over you once again. his hard cock strains in his jeans and he gives you a look that screams ‘i need you’ to which you look up at him with hooded eyes. the sheen of your arousal on his skin, his disheveled hair is quite the sight.
“baby…” he pants, inching closer to you. 
“put one in me,” you whisper. you, too, have no doubt in your mind about this. about him. you want everything he’s offering to you. “fuck a baby into me, cheol, i want it. i want you.”
seungcheol thinks his life flashes before his eyes when he hears your words. he thinks, maybe, he mishears you for a second, but when you keep that expectant look on your face, he knows that this is very real. that he’s gonna fuck you full of cum and pray it takes. 
he closes the gap between you, pressing his lips against yours.
it’s not your average kiss. it’s hot and heavy and, fuck, you think he just might eat you alive. his body is flush against yours now and you feel his bulge digging into your tummy. 
feeling him like this has you craving the weight of his cock on your tongue, but you know cheol has no plan of relinquishing any type of control tonight. even if it does mean he’s missing out on the world’s best head.
you kick off your shoes and fumble with the button on his jeans while whining into his mouth. you eventually give up after the button doesn’t budge, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against his clothed bulge instead, basking in the way he groans back into your mouth.
he pulls back, swollen lips turning down in a cute pout, “baby, need to fuck you right now…”
you tug at his shirt, whispering, “then fuck me, cheol.” 
a guttural groan bubbles in the back of his throat. he pulls your dress up by the hem, growling a soft, “off.” 
“you first.” 
he raises an eyebrow at you but doesn’t say anything else, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it on to the ground. his hands are back on your dress, but you shake your head. 
“pants, too,” you whisper with a cheeky smile. 
“didn’t realize this was a strip tease,” he grumbles passively, stepping out of his shoes while his hands easily pop the button of his jeans and yanking them down his thick thighs. 
your eyes flit down to his boxers and your saliva pools in your mouth, threatening to spill past your lips at the mere sight of his clothed hard-on. 
he interrupts your gawking, gruff, stern voice filling your ears, “take your fucking dress off.”
you giggle, raising your arms. he’s not slow and he’s most certainly not gentle when he practically rips the dress up and off, discarding it into the pile of clothes that lay haphazardly on the floor.
he doesn’t even give you a second before grabbing– manhandling– you and guiding you to the bed. 
he lays you down and internally melts. “you’re so gorgeous, baby,” he mumbles, spreading your legs open and eyeing your pulsing cunt. “you’re perfect.”
you don’t know how it’s possible at this point, but you grow even hotter. feverish. you always love his praise and you know he’s well-aware of the fact because he smirks as you squirm and clench around nothing. 
“cheollie,” you whimper. 
his hands splay over your bare stomach and his cock throbs as an array of dirty thoughts re-enter his mind. 
“you’re gonna look so cute when i put a baby in you, isn’t that right?” he murmurs, hands ghosting over your skin before they land on your tits, fondling them through your bra without a care in the world. “gonna be such a pretty mommy…” he tells you, voice dropping an octave. 
you moan at the contact and his promiscuous words. arousal drools from your hole, surely soaking a puddle into the sheets under you. you’re not sure how much longer you can wait for him to impale you on his cock before you become a weeping mess. 
you whine, eyes threatening to close, “please make me a mommy, cheollie.”
seungcheol lets out a sharp breath, quickly removing his hands from your tits, opting on using them to push his boxers down. 
when his length slaps against his abdomen, he lets out a soft groan. he doesn’t wait for anything else, grabbing his cock, spitting on it, stroking it a few times and, finally, pushing his angry red tip against your hole. 
when the head of his cock gets trapped between the warm walls of your cunt, seungcheol curses. “tightest fuckin’ thing,” he mutters, shoving himself deeper and deeper, listening to your high-pitched whines and whimpers. 
and when he’s finally balls deep inside of you, his eyes flicker up from your pussy swallowing him whole to your contorted, fucked out face that he loves dearly. 
he’s breathless, asking, “you good, baby?”
you offer a broken nod and a weak, “s’good.”
it’s all he needs to hear before standing all the way up on his knees, grasping at your waist, and lifting your lower back off the bed. 
you squeal, “cheol! what are you–” 
you’re cut off by your own yelp when he pulls out and slams back into you without much of a warning. his cock reaches deeper than you think you’ve ever felt and it has your eyes rolling back and your hands pulling the sheets off the bed. 
his hips are relentless, continuously driving his cock in and out of you at an impressive speed while groaning out words of praise. you feel his tip bruisingly kiss your cervix and the pained pleasure brings tears to your eyes. 
“s-seungcheol–” you sob, arching further into the air. 
“i know, baby,” he moans in response. “but, fuck, you’re taking it so well. look so fucking pretty taking my cock like this.” he wants to throw his head back in pleasure, but he can’t bear to tear his eyes away from you. 
tears helplessly fall down the sides of your face and your mouth is cracked open, letting out the most gorgeous sounds. your tits spill from your bra, bouncing with every thrust and it’s too good. you look too fucking good. 
and you’re going to look even better with his cum leaking out of your cunt. 
you ache with the partial bridge seungcheol has you in. you’re not sure if you want to focus on the profound pain or intense pleasure, but when he drops your body back on the bed and his thumb catches your clit, you have no other choice. 
you gasp, crying out and clamping around him with an iron grip, “fuh-fuck! cheol– cheollie!”
he growls, rubbing the sensitive bud faster and faster. “you gonna cum for me?”
you pant, chest heaving as you nod your head vigorously. your eyes screw shut and your jaw drops further as you feel the familiar knotting in your tummy. your impending orgasm bubbles in the pit of your belly, a stream of whines and moans leaving your mouth. 
“cum f’me, angel.” he coaxes breathily, cock twitching and throbbing inside of you. “s’gonna feel so good, just cum for me.” he practically begs and you think it’s because he’s just as close. 
you can’t even find it in you to care because the onslaught of pleasure wracks your body. you clench around him once, twice, three times– and, before you know it, the knots in your tummy come completely undone and you’re left a shaking mess under him.
“that’s it, that’s my fucking girl.” he nearly whines, fucking you through your orgasm while you jerk and thrash on the bed. “god, i love this pussy, your body, everything, baby– i love you.”
you cry, silently praying he’ll press his lips against yours because, god, you love him, too. so much. but your voice is hoarse and you don’t think you can conjure up the words to give him. 
it’s like he reads your mind, slipping his hand in between your tits and pulling your body up by the material of your bra and wraps his arms around your body. his mouth presses against yours, swallowing all of your sounds as you swallow his. 
your arms wrap around his neck, sobbing in overstimulation as he kisses the life out of you.  when he pulls away, you wrap your legs around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into his lower back. you continue to whine, burying your face into his sweaty neck to muffle the noises. 
he holds you tighter, pounding into you without any regard to your sounds. “gonna fill you up, princess. gonna fuck you full of my cum, give you a baby, marry you,” he grunts loudly. “everything. gonna– fuck– gonna give you everything.”
you nod, sinking your teeth into his neck. 
and seungcheol can’t hold back, moaning your name before pressing his cock as far as he can go and stilling there. ribbons of his release coat your bruised walls and you feel the warmth radiate throughout your body. 
cheol’s pants slowly morph into breathy chuckles as he comes to terms with what he’s done. 
you shudder, feeling full in more ways than one. you pull your head from the crook of his neck, looking at his gummy grin and dazed eyes and you give him a lopsided grin. you look so content, even after he nearly fucked the life out of you. 
“was it too much?” he asks gently after a few minutes of silently staring at each other.
“a lil…” you whisper, weakly clamping around him. “you know i love it when you get like this, though.”
“i know.” he mumbles, unraveling himself from you to marvel at his work. he pulls out of you and watches the way his cum slowly dribbles out of your hole. he can’t help but groan at the sight. “you think this’ll be enough, angel?”
“a few more rounds probably wouldn’t hurt.” you giggle. 
“that can probably be arranged.” he hums cheekily. “but, seriously, baby. thank you… for today. you always know how to surprise me.”
“really? i kinda… thought you hated the whole picnic lunch date,” you murmur. “thought i ruined your day.”
“no, baby, i loved it.” he says through a smile, kissing the corner of your mouth. “it was great, i swear… i just thought about fucking a baby into you a little too hard.”
“i’m really glad.” you smile, “and, now that you hopefully did… how would you rate year 28?”
“10/10. truly the best birthday ever.” he says. “i got everything i ever wanted.”
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© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
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heartpiratedrabbles · 2 months
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Prompt: You leave an argument only to be Shambles back into a tense situation
NSFW
Trafalgar Law X Fem Reader
“Not now.” Law gripes out, gripping Kikoku as he brushes past you. It had been a long day trying to gather information, tracking down pirates to get their hearts. It was a big plan and it was taking longer than he’d like. When he came into his room, he hadn’t been expecting to see you there, arms crossed with a scowl on your face.
         “Then when Law? When will you have time to even talk?” Your voice rang through the room of the submarine as you follow him deeper into the room. He promised you 2 hours. 2 Hours that had come and went without so much of a word from him. You had been waiting in his office for most of the day before migrating to where you knew he’d end up so late at night, even Bepo had come to check if you were alright.
         You were beyond frustrated at this point, you hadn’t even been the one to suggest the 2 hours, it was Law’s idea after he himself realized how long it had been since the two of you had been alone. You weren’t even fully expecting him to stop his work entirely, whenever he was on the ship he’d be looking over maintenance or other work that had piled up, and you thought maybe he’d just let you be with him while he shuffled through it all. It was certainly better than the past couple of months where he’d banned anyone from bothering him unless it was important.
         Fixing up Straw-hat had really shook him, and while he tried not to show it, you knew he was throwing himself into being busy non-stop to not think. Keeping everyone at an arm’s length, even kicking you out of the bedroom the two of you had shared for so long.
         He made it clear he wasn’t breaking up with you, but honestly at this point you had little faith in anything, he couldn’t even keep his promise to spend some time with you, the promise he made of his own accord.     
         “Just leave me alone.” His short and curt words were getting on your nerves. You wanted to be understanding, he had a lot on his plate, but you can count the times you had talked to him over the past month on a singular hand, and that was including this awful interaction. He set his beloved sword down, leaning it against the wall by his bed while he shrugged off his coat. “We can talk tomorrow,” He glances at you with a furrow in his brow, hands gesturing you up and down, “About whatever it is,” He grumbled some more unintelligible words out at the end but all you could hear was ringing in your ears.
         Your chest heavy as you tried to take a shaky breath in while turning away from your captain. You didn’t see his head perk up in concern at the noise of your breathing, nor did you see him notice the tears springing up at the corner of your eyes. “Fine. I’m going out tonight.” You tried to sound confident, not wanting to show him a weak side, but your voice came out wavering and weak.
         “What? It’s already midnight. The only thing open are pubs.” His voice was a little harsh as you started making your way back to his door. You didn’t drink often, but your throat was beyond dry, and the banging in your head from heavy emotions was getting on your nerves. You didn’t even bother to respond to Law as you reached for the door. “You’re staying here tonight. That’s an order Y/N.” Law stood up, annoyed and angry, not understanding why you were acting this way. It was out of the norm for you, and Law couldn’t handle anything not normal right now.
         You heard his words, a tear escaping as you felt something boil up inside you into a weird calm compared to how cold and alone you felt moments prior. “Then think of a punishment for when I get back,” Your tone low and even as you stepped out into the hallway, making your way to the deck.
         Law watched as his door shut, there wasn’t a slam nor was it left open. It was eerily normal how you had closed the door and it sent a shiver down his spine. First you yell at him the second he gets back, nearly crying and telling him you’re going out drinking and now this? He couldn’t make sense of the sudden mood changes but it unnerved him, getting on his nerves easily. You had openly ignored his orders, you knew how cruel his punishments could be, cleaning the bathrooms by yourself for a month, only using a rag to clean the entirety of the deck, even re-organizing all the medicine before having to do it again in another ludicrous way.
         Law stood there in the middle of his room, frozen as his mind raced. His own chest tugged at him and felt tight as he thought about you going off to drink somewhere. By yourself at that, everyone else had either found a pub already or were asleep, maybe you’d find some crewmates? He felt a lump in his throat form as time was ticking, he couldn’t place the emotion he was feeling and it angered him more than anything else.
         Your throat felt tight, but seemed to loosen with the cool night air as you walked closer to the edge of the ship. You could see some tavern lights on from where you had docked and gripped the railing as you stepped onto the gangway placed for convenience. But just as you were going to continue you felt a familiar breeze rip through the air, before you could even blink you were shoved against a wall in the room you had just left a couple of minutes prior.
         “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The angered voice gritted through teeth as a forearm shoved your chest further into the wall, another hand gripping your hip.
         You blink for a second to get your surroundings before your own anger unravels, “Trying to go out for once. Captain.” The venom hitting Law as you hardened your glare up at the taller man. His face becoming tight at your wording, the only time you’d call him captain was in front of others, it was his own demand at the beginning of the relationship, but behind closed door you never uttered the title.
         You watched as his eyes raced over your face, emotions slowly changing at the recognition of what you had said. You didn’t move, didn’t try to get away, you just stood and stared back up at him with an unmoving face. His fingers digging deeper into your hip before he bared his teeth, “Disrespecting my order.” It was the only thing Law could muster out, not wanting to point out the hurt he felt, “What were you expecting?”
         You attempt to suck in a deep breath, calming your mind before responding, “Didn’t realize I was trapped on this vessel Sir.” Your eyes never moving away from his, ignoring how the arm just over your chest was starting to restrict your breathing slightly. “Thought a couple of drinks and some fresh air might be nice considering how long I’ve been aboard.” The lump in your throat forming again as you try to even your voice out again.
         The hard line you were attempting to draw between Law and You was getting on his nerves, he’d barely heard your second sentence, too focused on you refusing to call his name like normal. He peers down at you, your hardened face-tinged red from anger. The tension in the air thick enough to cut. Law feels a growl erupt from his throat as he grips your face, tilting your head up before forcefully taking your lips.
         You feel the grip on your hip tighten again as you’re taken aback by the sudden motion, gasping before feeling his tongue snake into your mouth. Your mind heavy with anger, but head swimming from the kiss. You attempt to fight the urge to kiss back but give up, instead wrapping an arm around Law’s neck forcing him closer as you fight his tongue with your own. Your other hand pulling at his hair harshly while you attempt to explore his mouth.
         The hand on your hip loosening just enough to venture around you, gripping your thigh as you instinctually jump up, pressing your chests together, his other hand supporting your back as he walks towards the bed. The attempt to throw you down fails when your legs tighten around him, refusing to relinquish his lips or hair from your grasp. You feel a huff from him as he throws the both of you onto the mattress, teeth hitting each other as you tighten you grip on his hair.
         A couple of tears escape your eyes, and you aren’t sure whether it’s from lack of air, or your emotions. Law takes the initiative to pull back from the kiss, a harsh bite to your lip as he pulls away, eyes opening to see him staring at you still. He narrows his eyes at you, “What did you call me?” The hushed breathing and low tone of his voice giving you whiplash on what you’re feeling.
         The anger of wanting to knock him upside the head and walk away while the pleasure of staying and filling every desire in your mind, “What?” You snapped out, barely hearing him talk. Your arms are loosely hanging around him, your hand stinging from how tight your grip was on his hair earlier, before he repeats his words slowly, a leg hiking higher up to nestle itself against your crotch. Eyes tearing into your soul as you actually comprehend his words. You scoff a bit, fighting your body from grinding down for some wanted pressure, “Captain, Sir. That’s what I called you.”
         His eyes turn dark and an unpleasant scowl appears on his face a hand quickly wrapping around your neck as he veers closer to you. “Y/N.” He growls out staring a hole through your head, “Say my name.” It finally ticks in your head what’s going on and you can’t help but to feel a little better getting him angry.
         Tightening you arms around him to bring him in for a subtle kiss, glancing down at his lips before looking back into his eyes, “That would be disrespectful… Captain.” The hold on your throat tightens a bit before he bites at your lips, trailing down you jaw as he draws closer to your ear.
         “Disrespectful...” He tch, leaning back to stare down at you, taking in the sight as your hands falls back around your head. A euphoric feeling washing over you as the pressure around your neck increases. Your eyelids hooding over while your mouth falls open slightly, your fingers hooking around the blanket underneath you. The small gasps escaping you while your head becomes light and heavy at the same time. The snarl on Law’s face transforms into a smirk, “I see how it is.” His voice still low as he releases his hold on you, watching you squirm slightly to catch your breath, “You’re enjoying this.” He gestures slightly, his knee rubbing against you again before he unzips your jumpsuit.
         The heavy gasps as your brain starts to think again, your body tingling as his hands brush against your now exposed skin, stripping the suit off your arms, “Cap-tain~” The smallest whimper coming out before he snaps his head back up to you.
         “Still with that?” He leans down clearly annoyed at your insistence, peppering kisses against your stomach leading down. Your hands go to cover your breasts, while you hush yourself from any noises you were letting out subconsciously. Your hips rotating as the rest of your clothes are taken off leaving you bare.
         Your knees and thighs coming together in the little amount of time Law is no longer between your legs. “That is your title after all,” The hush tones leaving your mouth as you see Law glare at you. His hands running up your legs, brushing against your sensitive areas, glancing up to see you hold back.
         “Is that how you’re playing?” He growls towards you, the touches making your body shiver as you attempt to keep eye contact with the one towering above you. You nod slightly, and just as you’re about to say it again he grips your wrists pinning them above your head as he slams his lips against yours again, biting enough that you taste blood.
         You groan into the kiss, pushing into the feeling while he slips a leg between yours, hooking one of your own around his hips.  A quick pull of your leg catches him off guard as he falls on top of you, just enough that you can feel the tent in his own pants.
         “Y/N.” He breathes out, his eyes begging you to call for him. When he realizes you won’t stop this game of calling him captain, he rips away from you. You let a frustrated moan escape you before quieting down, not wanting to give Law a sense of control here. “If I’m your captain even here,” His words drawl out, his back turned towards you while he walks towards a chair in the corner of the room, “Then you can come and please me yourself.” He sits down, unbuttoning his shirt before leaning back and staring at you from his spot.
         You lean on your elbows, staring at the man in front of you with anger boiling in you again. “Excuse me?” You bark out, not believing the sight in front of you. Law glances up and down, a smile playing on his lips as he sees your anger rise.
         “Well? Your Captain told you to please him.” His taunts making you all the angrier. He shifts his legs, leaning his head against a hand while watching to see what your next move will be, “Are you refusing an order Y/N?”
         You grit your teeth. This isn’t what you wanted, you wanted him to get angry enough to ravish you into oblivion. The satisfaction of annoying him enough to play into your hand feeling greater than the anger you felt earlier in the day.
         He taps his fingers on the arm rest while he stares at you. He’d never been comfortable with exerting power between the two of you while alone. Yet here he is, pushing your buttons as you bite your own bruised lip, thinking of your next move. “Well?” His singular word rang through the air, pissing you off even more.
         Sitting up, shooting a glare at him. Your swollen lip between your teeth throbbing before you let out an anguish sigh. Law lets a chuckle out as he watches you make your way to him, straddling his legs while wrapping your arms around his neck. Kissing his neck gently while rotating your hips.
         Law stares down, watching the movements your body is making, holding a curse as you push his shirt off his shoulders, dusting kisses over the skin of his chest before coming back up. Raising your hips so your breasts are right in his face, you can hear him take a breath in.
         His hands go to the back of your thighs, pulling you closer as he takes a nipple in hi mouth. Your hands run over his scalp. His hands going inward, spreading you apart as a finger traces your entrance. You feel the bastard grin into your breast as he quickly shoves two fingers in, your hands going to his shoulders to stabilize yourself, the tug of skin between his teeth when you arch your back slightly.
         He releases your nipple, now sensitive and cold in the air before glancing up at you, “Already so wet for your captain.” He curls his finger inside you, hitting a spot that made a moan escape you. You attempt to sit back down, but his hands hold you up, fingers sinking deeper into you at your movement. He takes your neglected nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking the bud until it’s hard.
         “L-Law,” You let out, body shaking slightly.
         He scoffs looking up at you again, “Now you want to play nice?” He stands up abruptly, you wrap you arms around his head, expecting to fall but instead smother him in your tits while his grip on you keeps you up. His fingers still pumping inside before feeling the mattress once again.
         You bounce slightly while you look towards Law who has a dark look in his eyes, “What happened to calling me Captain?” You watch as he unbuckles his belt, whipping his dick out while he stares down at you. You don’t respond as he grabs your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bed, lifting one of your legs to rest on his shoulder.
         You let a whimper escape when you feel him rub his tip against your clit, “I’m not going easy on you.” His warning tone hits you as he leans forward, the stretch of your leg as he gets close to your ear, “Think of it as your punishment for leaving.”        
         Your own mind to shrouded in pleasure to remember why you left at the moment. He takes your lips before sheathing his entire length inside you, once again he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue down your throat, your eyes rolling in the back of your head.
         He moves a hand back to your throat, enjoying how your tongue spasms while trying to gasp for air, the brutal pace stretching around him. Your moans only muffled by his own mouth before he hits the bundle of nerves inside you, sending a wave through your entire body. He pulls back, releasing his grasp to look at your panting body, simultaneously relaxed and twitching.
         Looking down briefly before pulling out, quickly flipping you over, lifting your ass up to plunge back into you before you could even think about what was happening. One hand going down to tease your clit while the other snaked around your throat, pulling your back against his chest while he nips at your ear and neck. “Who am I?” Your mind numb when he pulses a squeeze on the sides of your throat.
         He does a rougher thrust into you, letting you moan out before he asks the question again. Your eyes lull to the side, seeing him out of the corner, “L-Law.” You moan out, your hands going to support your self and the arm around your front. He lets out a satisfied hum into your neck, his movements becoming gentler.
         You catch up on your breathing right as he moves his hand away from your neck. Your own hands going to his arm, pushing it back, “Law, please~” You surprised moan takes him back for a second.
         He spins both of you around, sitting on the bed with you on top, feet trying to get a hold on the bed frame as he continues to fuck up into you. One arm wrapped around your waist while the other was still being held to your neck by you. “And why should I do what you ask?” His question dips a bit, a nip on the back of your neck sending you to cloud nine.
         “I’m- so close,” You pant out, sweat covering both of your bodies as you admit the heat building inside you, “Please, Law. I-“ You let out another breathy moan as his hand returns to the spot that deprives you of air.
         The weightlessness you feel becoming overwhelming as you feel the erratic thrusts. You arch your back, Law moving his hand up to your jaw, twisting your face to meet his, drowning out the moans while your body pulses around him in a death-like grip. You feel him groan before holding you down with the arm around your waist.
         The subtle grind of your hips milking him empty, feeling his chest heave against your back before catching your breath. The room humid and hot, Law’s hair stuck to his forehead with sweat before he shifts onto the bed, pulling you down with him.
         His head rubbing into the nook of your shoulder while he hugs you close, “I’m sorry.” The muffled voice shook you as you melted into his touch, “I forgot about our date.” His stern yet weak voice sounding like an angry kitten as he refused to let you go.
         You hum in agreement, “Didn’t realize you knew what you did wrong.” You shift your body, trying to get his softening cock out of your abused hole to enjoy the needy cuddle from the man below you. Instead, his arms grip you tighter, a small thrust into you to keep you in place.
         His lips pushed further into you, more of a means to muffle himself, “Figured it out along the way.” You huff out slightly at his pouting, once again trying to get loose.
         “I won’t leave Law, but it’s hot and we’re both sticky.” He murmurs to stay put a little longer as he turns to his side, bring you with him. It can’t hurt to indulge him a little longer.
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Text
It's a Match! || 141 x Reader
[ Chapter 10 ] || [ Chapter 12 ]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: i'm in love with gaz
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Chapter 11: Excuse me?
A DM suddenly shoots up to the top of the pile in Kyle’s Tinder DM list and his eyebrows raise when he sees your name.
It’s been a month and a half, maybe longer, since you two last matched and after the brief rejection and you having gotten with Price, his life moved on and he kind of forgot you existed.
But your sudden message whose preview starts with “hey sorry to be botheri-” intrigues him so he presses it.
you: hey sorry to be bothering u but i figured it was safe to dm u about this because between u and johnny u seemed to be the most mature one! is simon okay? he stopped replying to me like a week ago and im concerned
Kyle’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead upon reading the question.
Kyle: he’s been texting u? 🤨 you: HI! yeah he has Kyle: excuse me? 🤨🤨 Kyle: like texting texting u.  Kyle: as in you text him and he answers and u 2 chat? 😐 you: yes? 🙃 Kyle: tf kind of witchcraft did u pull on him? 🤨 Kyle: he doesnt text.  Kyle: not one of us can get more than a thumbs up reaction to our texts in the groupchat. 😑 you: he texts me! Kyle: 😫?? Kyle: jesus christ.  you: you didnt answer is he okay?? 😭😭
Kyle thought back on a reason why Ghost would suddenly, well, ghost you. But he can’t think of any… Ghost is a notoriously bad texter, it doesn’t surprise him that he went MIA…
And then it hits him.
It’s 8 A.M. in the rec room of their floor and Ghost was making tea just as Johnny was taking a seat in the couch.
Kyle oofed as Johnny hit him, throwing his legs over Kyle’s lap. “Watch it mate, fuck you’re bloody heavy!” He complained.
“AH, FUCKIN’ HELL!” Ghost cursed as he threw his hands up in the air the sound of water dripping on the floor catching his attention.
Kyle looked over to see Ghost had spilled his boiling hot water everywhere on the counter.
“You alright L.T.?” Soap asked a she lifted his head over the back of the couch to peer at Simon just like Gaz was.
“Great.” Ghost grunted as he picked up his phone from the counter, which was also dripping in water, while his other hand threw a rag onto the mess of water dripping down from the counter.
“Oh fuck… ‘s your phone dead?” Soap asked and Ghost grumbled under his breath, not quite answering the question, as he busied himself soaking up the spilled water.
Just then, Price showed up at the rec room door. “Simon, gear up. Got a briefing for a solo mission in 10.”
“Fuckin’ hell, yeah, yeah, I got it.” Ghost grunted as he cleaned the mess and then rushed out the door, leaving his mug of tea in the counter and clutching his now broken phone in his hands.
Kyle: hes fine. Kyle: he spilled water on his phone and killed it I think.  Kyle: and he got sent out before he could get it fixed. 🙃 you: oh okay good! you: thanks! you: sorry to have bothered you! 🙏 Kyle: now wait just a minute. 😤 Kyle: u need to explain how in the hell u and ghost talk.👀 you: ghost? Kyle: that’s his work name. 🤷‍♂️ you: fitting seeing as i thought he ghosted me Kyle: THAT’S THE JOKE I MADE JUST NOW TO MYSELF! 😭 you: were in sync it seems 😭 Kyle: answer the question tho. you: idk what u want me to answer with Kyle: wdym u dont know??? explain yourself. Kyle: how do you get ghost to text u???? you: idk? im funny ig Kyle: 😑 you: im sorry if thats not what u want to hear Kyle: wait Kyle: a couple weeks ago he was out all night Kyle: during morning training soap was talking about how he had a date Kyle: was he with u? 👀👀 you: soap? Kyle: johnny. Kyle: keep up cmon now. you: jeez don’t patronize me you: yes simon was with me Kyle: 👀👀👀 Kyle: i see. Kyle: tell me more. you: theres nothing to tell Kyle: thats a lie and u know it.  you: its not!!! Kyle: cmon. Kyle: u cant just meet with a bloke with a skull mask on and then say u dont have anything to tell. 😑😑 you: a skull mask?? Kyle: did he not wear a mask when he was with u? 🤨🤨 you: yes? you: a black one Kyle: with a skull print on it yeah? you: no??? 🙃 you: just black! Kyle: jesus christ. Kyle: and what? what happened? you: nothing?! Kyle: walk me thru it. you: we went out for a drink then came back to mine and watched a movie! Kyle: 🤨🤨 Kyle: and had a shag? you: NO???? Kyle: wdym no? thats what would normally happen with a bloke. you: and???? you: this is simon were talking about kyle you: nothing about him screams normal exactly 🙃 you: hes joked about being able to kill me with his bar ehands you: bare hands* Kyle: fair. Kyle: this raises more questions for me. you: what Kyle: like u would meet with a masked bloke that can kill u with his bare hands alone without protection? 🤨 you: i had protection Kyle: not a condom. you: oh 😅 you: well we met at a pub soooo  Kyle: what did u 2 do then Kyle: other than watch a ‘movie’ 🙄 you: played mario kart you: slept Kyle: as in Kyle: you SLEPT? like honk shoo honk mimimimi? you: yes🙄🙄 Kyle: im confused. you: ur confused? im fucking confused bro Kyle: wdym u SLEPT TOGETHER? 🙃 Kyle: WHAT KIND OF WITCHCRAFT IS THIS?  Kyle: wtf have u done to him Kyle: like ghost doesnt text, he sure as shit doesnt visit people, and he doesnt go on dates, he doesnt sleep next to people, im almost sure the man doesnt have feelings or emotions and only speaks in sarcasm  Kyle: how can u get that out of him?? 🤨🤨 Kyle: no one else can! you: well with that mentality you cant you: idk what to tell u you: we hit it off 🙄 Kyle: explain yourself. you: ive been explaining it!!!!! Kyle: no explain it better. Kyle: I think Im having a stroke.  you: idk how to make it clearer??? Kyle: thats it. Kyle: are you free rn?? Kyle: I need u to explain urself. 😑 you: Im at work? Kyle: whens ur lunch break? 👀 you: in 35 minutes. Kyle: do u like ramen? you: yes? Kyle: whats the closest japanese to ur job? you: Akira Kyle: meet me at Akira for lunch. Kyle: I’m buying. you: who said i want to meet up with u?? 🤨🤨 Kyle: man just get down there. Kyle: im offering to pay. you: fineeeee 🙄
Kyle quickly hopped up from his seat at his desk with a start and rushed back to his room to change out of his fatigues.
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!): @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur
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javiscigarette · 15 days
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Emergency Contact
Frankie Morales x f!reader
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Summary: Frankie gets in trouble and this is the last time you're helping him. At least that's what you tell yourself.
Warnings: angst, smut, post break up, mentions of drug/alchol use/abuse, military ptsd, frankie on a downward spiral and needs to get his shit together, emotional smut because I had to, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, frankie is literally this emoji -> 🥺 the whole time
w/c: 6.8K
a/n: part of @iamasaddie writing challenge 2.0!!! I picked puppy eyes brown and my genre was angst with the prompt: "Tell me how to fix this." And guys listen. I literally never write angst I’m such a softy but I tried my best with this okay! and I obviously had to include some smut I just couldn't resist hehehe. Also thank u to my baby love @undrthelights for finding theses pics and for everything else you do :) enjoy!
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You should scream at him, yell at him. Tell him to get the fuck out, fight him tooth and nail to prevent him from worming his way back into your heart, to avoid anymore pain.  But then he’s against you, his chest flush against your back, legs tangling together under the blankets. He slips an arm around your waist, the other underneath you, pulling you against him tighter as he nuzzles into your neck, burying his face into your hair and takes a deep breath. “Just one more night" he whispers. "Please. Just let me have one more night."
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The vibrations of your phone buzzing on your nightstand pulls you from a deep slumber, your heart is already pounding at the sudden noise, the rest of your body slow and sluggish as you try to gain your bearings. 
You paw for your phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen when you find it. A call from a number you don't recognize. You debate letting it go to voicemail but the area code is local and that makes you pick up, a raspy Hello? leaving your mouth as you roll over in bed, glancing at the clock. 
2:13 am.
The sound of your name crackles down the line, the immediately recognizable voice causing your heart to plummet to your ass.  
"Frankie?" You ask, sleep quickly leaving you as tension takes its place.
"...Yeah, sorry, I…I didn't know who else to call." His voice is frail and pinched.
You don't have to ask him what's wrong, your brain already piecing the puzzle together You've been in this exact position before. The anger is already starting to creep in, your brow furrowed and stomach twisting as a familiar rage blooms in your chest.
"You couldn't have called anyone else?"
You know the answer is no. The rest of the boys are on a mission, leaving him behind after he failed on his promise to stay clean for long enough to get cleared to go. And now, you’ve fallen victim to that decision too,being the only person left to call whenever he finds himself without a leg to stand on. Frankie in trouble, you bailing him out. Just like normal. 
"I'm sorry I didn't want to bother you I just..." he takes a deep breath and sighs. "I'm at the station on Oak street. Can you maybe... pick me up?"
You close your eyes and take a moment to compose yourself and reign in the anger at the way he's gotten under your skin already.
"What did you do this time, Frankie?"
He's quiet for a second before he finally says, "DUI. And um, slightly resisting arrest? It’s uh, it’s my first one and I didn’t blow too high so they’re letting me go as long as I show up for court in a few days."
His voice is soft but you can hear him fighting back emotion, his voice cracking and straining under the pressure. the sound eliciting sympathy you desperately wish you didn't feel.
"Jesus, Frankie," you sigh, defeated already.
It shouldn't even faze you at this point. It should be expected given the path he's fallen down since his return home from their last mission 3 months ago. The Frankie you knew before he left had been a steady force. Protective, headstrong but soft in his demeanor, so sweet and full of love. The man now standing in his shoes still holds some traits of that Frankie, but they've all been scarred and tainted with his fall from grace.
Memories of the nights spent tucked in his bed, his arms around you, his hands buried in your hair come flooding back like they usually do. The sound of his laugh, the feel of the downy hairs on his forearm pressed against your skin and the steady thrum of his pulse under his jaw as you placed kisses against his neck. The words you would speak softly to one another in the early hours of the morning, secrets only shared with each other under the protection of black velvet night sky. 
All of it traded for bitter resentment and anger towards a version of the man that was ripped away from you.
When he was gone, you’d sleep in his shirts and on his pillow, clinging to the faded scent of his cologne as your brain conjured up ghost touches from his fingertips. Dreaming of the day that he'd come home, how he might touch you, and kiss you, the taste of his lips and the feel of his skin on yours. A reunion so deeply desired that the day after he returned was a sharp double edged sword - a blessing, and a curse. The Frankie that walked back in your life was broken, smothered with the weight of the innocent lives on his hands. 
Warmth and tenderness traded for stony silence. Nights now spent at the bar, warming himself up with vodka instead of your embrace. Fights ending in harsh words and raised voices as he stubbornly dug his heels in deep, too ashamed to admit he needed help. Staying out late with no warning and coming back at dawn smelling of smoke, weed, and liquor. You are always wondering where he went, who he was with, if he was safe, or if he’d found someone else to soothe the pain. 
Then the coke. An old habit that was kicked to the curb in his earlier years now back with a vengeance. Your ultimatum quickly following.
This or you.
A choice you prayed he'd be strong enough to make, but was clearly not.
And now here you are. Two months since you walked away, trying to convince yourself it was for the best. The majority of the last two months of his life is a mystery to you, which you've accepted is probably for the better. 
"I know," he finally replies. "I'm so sorry baby, you know I..."
You can almost hear the way his jaw snaps shut, three words catching on his tongue. You don't need to ask to know what the next words are. Tonight was not the first time he's tried to use them in a vain attempt to patch up a crack in the foundation of your crumbling relationship.
There’s nothing but silence on the line as a war wages within you. Part of you wants to believe that he’s the selfish, careless man that he’s recently proven himself to be. But your heart whispers in your ear a softer notion. He's scared. Fragile. Battered. Embarrassed. Alone.
With a heavy sigh, you run your hand down your face in a feeble attempt to wipe away some of the grogginess clinging to you.
"I'll be there in 20," you say.
There's a pause before he speaks, "Really?"
Always an air of disbelief.
"Yes. But this is the last time I'm doing this Frankie, I mean it,"
"I know, I... thank you."
You don't bother to reply, simply hanging up the phone as the heaviness of this final gesture sets in. The gravity of the situation, of the line you're about to cross, already threatening to consume you.
This will, without a shadow of a doubt, be the last time you show up to save Frankie’s ass. 
At least that’s what you tell yourself. Just like you told yourself the last time this happened and the time before that. But this time will be different. You'll set new boundaries. That's it, just ride this storm one final time and be done.
You know it’s a lie, one you desperately want to believe it.
___
He’s standing outside the doors of the small station, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, wisps of smoke rising and dissipating in the still night air. He looks up as he hears the engine of your car approaching, the red glow of his cigarette temporarily highlighting the deep frown on his lips as he takes one last drag before he flicks the butt aside and heads your way.
The anxiety radiating off of him is tangible as he drops into the passenger's seat, gently shutting the door and peering at you with wide puppy dog eyes full of shame. You don't look at him, focusing on backing out of the parking spot before pulling onto the road.
He picks at the skin around his thumb and bounces his leg, his jaw tight. You wonder how long he’s been at the station. How long he’s been sober. You’re still not sure if he entirely is right now.
Most of the ride is silent save for the hum of your engine and the clicks of your turn signal. His eyes never leave you, he can feel him boring a hole in your profile, trying to catch your eye as you watch the road.
"What?" you finally snap.
"Nothing, just...I was wondering if I could stay with you tonight. I can sleep on the couch, I…I don’t really want to be alone right now" he speaks so softly it makes your stomach lurch.
"Absolutely not."
"Please? I'll leave early in the morning, by the time you wake up I'll be long gone."
The rage is back, glowing red hot in your chest, fingernails digging into the leather of the steering wheel, your knuckles white and tense. How fucking dare he ask. 
"Absolutely. Fucking. Not," your grit your teeth with each word, biting off the end of the sentence with a sharp finality.
"Right. Okay."
Silence takes over once again, your heart slamming against your chest, heat crawling up your neck as your cheeks grow red and damp. No. No. Absolutely fucking not. Absolutely not.
Frankie leans his head back against the headrest and rolls it to the side to watch you again. You can feel the disappointment radiating off him, hear him sniffling, his eyes, big and glassy, pleading when you glance over at him. 
It would be a lie to tell yourself that your “plan” isn't already halfway out the window as your jaw clenches and your gaze ping pongs between the road ahead and the man beside you. Deep in the darkness of your soul you know that with Frankie is where your comfort lies. It’s tucked in the space between his ribs, squished alongside his heart and lungs, running the length of his spine and settling between each vertebrae. You worry you may never be able to completely dislodge it, unsure if it would ever fit anywhere else in any other person.
Maybe it would be easier if Frankie didn't fill up the cracks in your heart with the fractured parts of his. If he didn't take up room in your brain that's not his to own, if he didn’t crawl under your skin and take root into your DNA. Now every cell in your body knows what it feels like to be next to him, now programmed to cry out for his presence when he isn’t near.
And it’s no different now. He’s here, looking so pathetic it’s almost laughable, staring at you with tears sliding down his cheeks that glisten in the glow of the headlights passing you by. Crying over something that’s entirely his fault. You should be the one crying right now. Not him. 
So you do. 
Hot angry tears spilling over your lash line. Though you can’t decide who you’re more upset with. The man who drank himself out of your life, or yourself for falling for him once again in spite of it all. Either way, it’s not enough to convince yourself to stay firm in your decision. 
Fucking pathetic. Both of you. 
“You’re out first thing in the morning and then I’m done Frankie. I fucking mean it this time, we can't keep doing this to each other."
“Okay. I promise baby, I will. First thing, I promise." He replies quietly. 
Your hand flinches with the urge to reach over and slap him for calling you baby. But instead, you clench your jaw and you shake your head at him.
"Don’t call me that, Frankie."
He quickly nods his head in understanding, his eyes again facing forward as he wipes away the wetness from his cheeks, watching the road the rest of the way to your house. 
Neither of you move once the car is parked in your driveway. The silence is heavy, cut only by the tick of the engine slowly cooling once you remove the keys from the ignition. You chance a look at him and find him picking at his thumb once more, his face red, his eyes soft and timid when they meet yours. 
“Tell me what happened, Frankie?” 
You ask even though you don’t really want to know. 
Frankie sucks in a breath and scrubs a hand down his face. 
"I got into a fight at the bar, got kicked out, made the dumb fucking decision to try and drive home and...now I'm here," he laughs mirthlessly as he waves his hands as a vague gesture to you, your house, his current situation. You can't tell if he's telling you the whole story, his answer simple and devoid of context. The context you’re sure wouldn't be good for you to know. 
“You could’ve killed someone, Frankie. yourself included,” you say after a few beats, your voice comes out sharp, frustration bleeding in each syllable.
He slowly nods as huffs out a breath.
"I know... it was stupid, and I was an idiot I...shit I was really careless and not thinking straight I’m sorry. I'm really sorry I-"
"I mean seriously Frankie,” you snap, cutting him off. “Do you ever, I mean ever, think about anyone but yourself? Or has it genuinely never crossed your mind that your shit might possibly affect the people around you?"
Frankie opens his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he's about to respond. You don’t give him a chance to. 
"How many more times are you going to take advantage of me, make me look like a fucking dumbass always showing up to rescue you? Why am I always the one covering for you, taking your crap, cleaning up your messes, only to have you throw it right back in my fucking face, every single time!"
Your voice cracks at the end of your sentence, chest heaving with each word that flies from your mouth. Two months worth of bitterness bubbling up from deep down, spilling over and cascading down your face in the form of frustrated tears.
"When did you become so fucking selfish, Francisco?!"
Hearing his full name fall from your lips spurs Frankie on, the last of his shards of resolve flying away as his walls come down.
"I don't fucking know okay?! I don't fucking know!" You flinch at the rise in his voice and his tone stings. But it's how quickly he follows up with a softer, feeble excuse that adds fuel to the fire, "I'm doing the best I can."
That does it for you. Hot searing molten rage pulses under the skin of your face, the tips of your ears hot with blood.
"Doing the best you can? The best you fucking can, Frankie? Fucking bullshit! Getting into bar fights, spending all your money on booze and blow, losing your fucking pilot license because you were too coked up to see straight? Was losing your driver's license just putting your best foot forward? Throwing your whole life away just because you refuse to get clean? Is that really the best you can do?"
You pause and swallow, giving Frankie a second to take it all in, letting him process the onslaught of scalding truths you've thrown at him, before you quietly continue,
"I can't keep doing this, Frankie. I just can't."
He sniffs and shakes his head in what appears to be defeat, his gaze fixed on his hands folded in his lap. 
“I know...fuck. I know I’ve fucked up alright? I know that. I just don't know how to fix this," he admits quietly, his wide eyes watching you helplessly. “Tell me how. Tell me how I can fix this. Please."
You bark out a laugh, sarcastic and cynical.
"Are you serious right now? What do you mean you don’t know what to do? How many times did I help you try to find a therapist, try to get you into a program? How many times did I suggest AA? Don't fucking tell me you don't know what to do because you do."
He nods, shifting around in the seat, sniffling yet again as he looks back at you. "Okay, okay. I get it, okay? But what can I do right now? To fix this at least for tonight?"
You sigh, deep and heavy, your entire body now just exhausted. You half wish he would put up more of a fight, call you a bitch, snap back at you for going off on him. Maybe it’d make it easier for you to let him go. But instead, he looks at you with desperate eyes and you can feel your resolve crumbling once again. 
"Just forget it, Frankie.”
But he won’t give up that easily. The man is persistent, you’ll give him that. 
"I'm serious. Tell me what I need to do right now to fix this. What can I do to show you how sorry I am?"
You stare back at him, jaw clenched, biting back the next words you were about to speak. They die on the edge of your tongue. You know the answer is.
Not a single damn thing.
"Look, I'll try harder, I fucking promise alright?” His tone becomes more frantic as your silence stretches on. “I’ll fucking try harder, please just...please," Frankie pleads, more tears welling in his eyes.
Your throat is tight, your head spinning and aching as your blood roars in your ears. He's already taken enough, stealing more would simply be the end of you. Giving in now would mean you've swallowed the bait, falling hook line and sinker into his trap, stepping back onto the slippery slope you've fought so hard to escape. And for what? More heartache, more bullshit excuses, more fighting, more pain?
But one glance into his wide-eyed, watery gaze and you know he's got you. Again. Faster than you can tell your mind no, your heart, foolish and hopeful, speaks for you instead.
"Lets just get some sleep, okay? It's late. We can...we can figure it out tomorrow."
"Thank you," he whispers immediately, relief coming off of him in waves. "I really mean it, I-thank you, I promise I’ll—“
“Can we not talk anymore Frankie? I just wanna go to sleep."
"Yeah. I'm sorry, let’s go."
There's nothing left to say, washing over the two of you as you make your way inside. You give him a towel and dig up some of his old clothes that live in the back of your closet from when he was here almost every night. You're back in bed before he’s done with his shower, tucked underneath the covers with your face pressed against your pillow, the silk fabric soaking up your tears of sadness and frustration.
The water shuts off and you can hear him getting settled in the living room. A pillow being fluffed, the creak of the couch when he sits. 
And then soft footsteps on the hardwood 5 minutes later, padding their way into your room.
He doesn’t knock. He doesn’t bother speaking either. He just simply creaks open the door and walks over to the other side of the bed, peeling back the covers before slipping into bed beside you. 
You should scream at him, yell at him. Tell him to get the fuck out, fight him tooth and nail to prevent him from worming his way back into your heart, to avoid anymore pain. 
But then he’s against you, his chest flush against your back, legs tangling together under the blankets. He slips an arm around your waist, the other underneath you, pulling you against him tighter as he nuzzles into your neck, burying his face into your hair and takes a deep breath.
“Just one more night" he whispers. "Please. Just let me have one more night."
You don’t have any fight left in you. Because at the end of the day, a night spent wrapped up in his arms, inhaling his scent, touching his skin and his beating heart is worth a thousand fights. And a million shattered dreams.
You don’t answer him, but you don’t tell him to leave either. Instead, you block out any looming thoughts, the impending worry of where this could go, or how bad the damage will be. For now, you chose to focus on the rise and fall of Frankie's breath against your skin, the way you fit so perfectly into his arms. 
One more night.
Frankie presses a kiss into the back of your neck, repeating his previous sentiment in a rough scratchy whisper, "Just one more."
And you listen to it resonate, bouncing around the walls in your head and tickling the space behind your eardrums.
Inhale
Exhale.
You should want to fight.
But instead, your body melts his, molding your bones and flesh against his, fitting into all the creases and gaps that have been carved out and reserved just for you.Trying to forget, to bury this pain as deep as possible,. Just for tonight. 
He waits a few more minutes, waiting until your breathing levels out with his before he makes his next move. His fingers trace mindless patterns on the skin of your stomach, goosebumps erupting under his fingertips, rippling outwards like a rock being tossed in a pond. He leans in once more, slowly dragging his nose up the length of your neck and curling his lip to press another kiss behind your ear. Then another.
And then another, this time lingering as he sucks softly on your skin.
Inhale.
You close your eyes, hoping for anything but this, yet feeling the sting of arousal spark below your skin.
And exhale. 
You’re better than this. You won’t stoop down to his level, you won’t let him chew you up and spit you out again.
But fuck, his lips are soft and warm, so is the breath as he exhales against your neck, lightly swiping his tongue and soothing the faint red mark he left behind with a small little hum.
“Frankie..." You warn, albeit much more breathless and weak than you would have liked. 
“Tell me to stop and I will," he murmurs, his beard gently grazing your sensitive skin, causing your toes to curl.
You take another deep breath, but this one is shaky, as you can't help but tighten your grip around his hand, squeezing his fingers as you lean your neck to the side, exposing more of your soft skin to him.
Dead in his trap. Caught so fucking easily. Pathetic.
But if his teeth and lips and tongue and soft, gentle touches are how you go down, then so fucking be it.
He hums his appreciation against your skin, scraping his teeth down to your shoulder, latching his mouth on a spot and sucking harder. Strong, callused fingers continue exploring, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to give him permission.
He rolls his hips forward against your ass and you bite your lip to stifle the whimper at how hard he is against you, his soft grunts in your ear traveling straight between your legs and fanning the flames building.
Then suddenly, he's sliding his hand up your shirt, squeezing your waist and traipsing over your chest until he’s cradling the weight of your breast in his palm, his thumb slowly brushing over your peaked nipple, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to moan out loud.
A small gasp escapes you instead, your fingernails digging into the back of his hand. 
"Frankie."
This time not a warning. It’s a plea. A desperate, burning want that you should be ashamed of. 
He murmurs into the shell of your ear then, his tone is deep and scratchy. 
“I miss you...I need you, baby. Just tell me to stop if you want. But I... fuck I miss you so much."
You don't tell him to stop.
You roll your hips back instinctively, a warm wave of arousal washing over you at the feeling Frankie's hardened length pressed firmly against your ass. He grunts in satisfaction as his palm slides from your chest and up your throat to your jaw. His grip is gentle as he turns your head to face him, his lips against yours without missing a beat. 
It’s too easy to fall right back into him, back into the practiced, very well rehearsed routine. To let him glide his tongue along the seam of your lips and coax them open so he can lick into your mouth, getting the taste of his tongue stuck behind your teeth. Too easy to let him remind you just how easily you fit in the palm of his hand, how tightly you’re wound around his finger. 
He kisses you fervently, desperately almost, lips and tongue moving against yours as though he’s trying to devour you whole, just like he used to. He’s been starving for too long.But right now, he's finally found nourishment, the feeling of your body under his hands and the taste of you on his tongue feeding his soul. Wanting more. Always more, entirely unable to help himself.
“Wanna make you feel good,” he murmurs, his mouth half a centimeter away from yours. “Let me make you feel good baby, please.”
As if you could say no.
As if you even wanted to.
He pushes his leg between yours, thick, firm muscle under warm skin pressing against your clothed core and you answer him with a roll of your hips, seeking out any sort of friction you can. 
It takes less than half a second for him to have you flipped over on your back. When Frankie truly wants something, he does it quickly and efficiently.
He moves above you, licking and kissing a trail down your neck. He makes his way down your body, greedily nipping at the skin stretched over your collarbones. He swirls his tongue over each nipple, only moving on when he’s satisfied. He presses wet, open mouthed kisses to your ribs and your tummy just above your navel, his beard tickling skin, making it twitch under his mouth. 
Your body is cooperating far more than it should, your hips lifting up instinctually when he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties, your thighs automatically parting further, and your hands migrating to his head. Your fingers tangle in his soft curl, your nails softly scratching his scalp just like you know he likes. 
And when his tongue drags up your thigh you have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip to stop the reactive moan. But your back arches with pleasure anyway, the last bit of your resolve evaporating into thin air as you give into him freely.  
His hands burn hot where they smooth over your skin, a comforting weight and a familiar drag of calloused palms fueling the fire and tightening the coil in your stomach. 
“Missed you so much,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your pussy before you feel the first stroke of his flat tongue up through your center.
This time, you're not strong enough to hold back the breathless mewl that leaves your mouth. You immediately push down on his head while simultaneously canting your hips upward, needing more friction, dying for more of everything he's willing to offer. He slides his arms underneath you and hooks his hand over your hip bones, holding you down and keeping you in place as he tries to find salvation between your thighs.
Heavy breaths through his nose as he uses his mouth, lips and tongue working in tandem to take you apart. Lapping and sucking at your clit while his fingertips nudge at your entrance, dipping just enough to tease, waiting until he hears the high pitched whimpers that he's after.
And when you've reached that level of desperation he wants from you, whimpering and panting, he slowly dips a finger in.
He moans along with you as though he's the one experiencing the pleasure. He's always gotten off on this almost just as much as you. The warm, slick slide of his fingers in and out of you, how you gush on his tongue, your thighs trembling on either side of his head, the tingle of his scalp when you tug on his hair.
More addictive than any substance he's ever found solace in.
And against your better knowledge, you're more than happy to indulge him, let him chase the high you give him and let yourself drown in it as well.
Your back arches off the bed as he adds another finger, grunting into you and thrusting faster as you tighten and flutter around them. He finds the spot he's looking for with practiced ease, whimpering into you and groaning along with you as he drags his fingers back and forth along the spot that has you bucking your hips into his hand. 
He knows how to get you there. Knows how to do it fast. And right now, that's what he wants. He's craved it too long, spent far too many nights with his hand wrapped around his leaking cock your name on the tip of his tongue as he fucked up into his own hand. He wants to hear you fall apart again, feel you coming on his tongue, your walls clenching as they try to suck his fingers in deeper. Wantsto know that he hasn't ruined absolutely everything between the two of you.
"Come on baby, lemme feel you,” he urges, voice deep and rough as he brings you to the edge. His mouth, licking and sucking at your clit, works in perfect rhythm with his fingers, sliding in and out, crooking them at the exact angle and speed he knows will get you there. 
"Please, Frankie...need to– fuck, I'm..." Coherent words evade you as he works you towards your peak, your breath stuttering as you struggle to keep air in your lungs. Your grip tightens in his hair, tugging roughly in an effort to ground yourself as the wave of euphoria starts to crest, the undercurrent pulling you down. 
Frankie growls in approval as you tighten around his fingers, all your muscles tensing as the sensation crashes into you. Your mind and body shut off and float into that sweet state of oblivion as Frankie's name falls from your lips, mixed in with a litany of profanity and slurs and choked back moans. He doesn't stop, doesn't even slow down until you're yanking on his hair hard enough for it to hurt, trying to wiggle away from his touch.
Frankie raises his head up and locks eyes with you, the tip of his nose, beard, and cheeks shiny with your arousal as he looks up at you through his dark, heavy lidded lashes.
"Want you so bad," he sighs, breathless and needy, crawling up your body and resting his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. He kisses you again, soft and sweet as if he has the right, tasting yourself on his tongue. 
You whimper into the kiss and hook a leg over his hip to pull his hips towards you. His cock strains almost painfully in his boxers when he grinds it against you, your warm arousal dampening the front of the fabric.
"Gonna let me baby?" He rasps when he moves to your neck, his teeth scraping sensitive flesh.
You both already know he's won. You're not even putting up a fight at this point, any dignity you thought you had left totally abandoned the moment you picked up the phone. But he asks anyway, needing the verbal affirmation, needing the confirmation that you want him as badly as he needs you.
And you can't lie.You're both equally weak and vulnerable. Two pathetic, heartbroken creatures chasing a temporary relief. A small glimmer of something to make the pain more bearable, something to fill the hole for the briefest amount of time.
You both know. And neither of you care.
No response to his question. Instead, you push up the hem of his shirt up and he does the rest, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor before he hooks a thumb underneath the waistband of his boxers and tugs them down his hips and off his legs.
Your hand finds his cock and he hisses at the contact, his hips shuddering as he pushes forward into your grip. You swear he's thicker and longer than before, heavier and hotter where you hold him. Your thumb brushes over the tip, spreading the pearls of pre cum around, coating the rest of his length to ease your glide. Frankie's mouth finds your neck again, tongue and lips tasting and teasing, his shaky breath in your ear.
You try to push up onto your elbows in an effort to roll him over, wanting to take over. But a palm finds your chest, gently pushing you back down until your flat against the bed again. 
"Wanna look at you," he says simply, as he pushes his length into the palm of your hand once more before sliding out. 
He lets his length rest against your sensitive clit and gently rocks his hips, slicking himself with the mess between your legs, sighing whenever you gasp each time his tip nudges at your clit.
"Please..." you whisper, feeling pathetic and needy, but at this point too desperate to care.
And he’s equally impatient, not waiting another moment before lining himself up and slowly pushing in. 
You tense at the initial intrusion, not having been with anyone in far too long and the feeling is almost overwhelming. You're trying to remember how to breathe again as you let your head fall to the side, trying to hide from his intense stare. But Frankie's there, using a gentle finger to tilt your face back up towards him as his hips moving at an agonizingly slow pace to let you adjust.
"That's it baby. Look at me."
And you do, the heat in your belly burning brighter with his eyes boring into yours as he witnesses your surrender to him. Your heart aches, still raw and tender and in pain from all the hurt that's transpired. But you ignore it and tell yourself the tears in your eyes aren't a result of a broken heart, but rather of how full you feel as Frankie's length finally bottoms out in you.
"Fuck..." You both curse under your breath as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust before he starts to move his hips. You cling to his broad shoulders as he pulls out of you, his eyes glued to where you’re joined, his thick cock slick and shiny with your arousal before he slides back in again with a quiet groan. He repeats the motions over and over watching as he pulls out almost completely before pushing back in, stuffing you to the hilt.
"Shit,” he hisses under his breath, his eyelashes fluttering when you clench in response. “You feel so good baby, fuck."
He buries his face into your neck, panting and pressing soft kisses as his pace starts to speed up. The soft grunts in your ear turn into more desperate moans when you lock your legs around his waist, pulling him, trying to get him even deeper than he already is. 
Your fingernails dig into the skin of his shoulders, holding on for dear life, hoping that you’ll leave half crescent moon shapes embedded into his flesh. A painfull reminder for the morning that you were here and this was real, despite the circumstances.
His hands slide under your ass, angling it upwards to let him hit just that little bit deeper inside, pushing the air from your lungs with each thrust. The muscles in his forearms flex and strain as he tries to hold back, always making sure you finish before he does. 
And he doesn't have to wait much longer. Your orgasm is creeping up and taking over your body and Frankie can sense it. He knows exactly what to look for, knows all the signs.
One hand moves to reach between the two of you two fingertips pressed against your pulsing clit, drawing fast, tight circles just like you like it. Your grip on his shoulder tightens, your nails digging into the skin and dragging down his back as his thrusts become more erratic. 
"Keep lookin' at me," he grunts and you struggle to keep your eyes open. They sting, the image of him above you starting to blur around the edges as he drives you closer and closer to your release.
"That's it, baby. Lemme see it, lemme see you come on my cock."
He doesn't have to tell you twice.
You come undone again just like that, dizziness spreading and heart hammering in your chest as you sob out, pleasure consuming you from within. He fucks you through it, not giving you a chance to catch your breath, as he curses and rambles in your ear about how he's missed this, how he's missed you.
You've barely started to come down when he grabs one of your legs behind your knee and pushes it into your chest, letting himself sink even deeper into you. The new angle has your head spinning, drowning in an unparalleled amount of pleasure. Your eyes flutter and roll back in your head as you whimper his name, fingers curling into the pillow above your head.
He doesn't last much longer, breathless moans and strangled whimpers into your neck as he gives you the last few sloppy thrusts. He's almost there, and when he tries to pull out, it's the way your leg tightens around his waste and your needy whine that sends him over the edge, groaning and cursing with his face in the crook of your neck as he spills himself into you.
His cock pulses inside you with every wave, his hips chasing his release, tiny jerks as he empties into you. He stills, his heavy breathing in your ear, his weight resting on you, heavy but grounding, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin.
Once the room stops spinning and the stars clear from behind your eyes, you drop your legs. With a shaky sigh, Frankie starts to pull out, both of you groaning in protest as he slips out.
His cum leaks out of you, quickly pooling between your thighs no matter how hard you squeeze your legs together. And when he catches sight of it, it makes your face burn. At the mere sight of his sticky, warm release spilling out of you, mixing with your own, Frankie swears he could go another round right then. Something about knowing he marked his territory, his claim on you established once again. He looks up at you, your eyes closed, forehead creased, and he has to dig his nails into his palm to keep from dragging his fingers through the cum leaking out of you and pushing it back in, keeping it where it should be. 
But the weight of reality is starting to press on him once again, the fear and shame from earlier taking root again and tugging at his stomach and pulling him out of the euphoria.
He kisses your hip bone once before making his way to the bathroom for a wet washcloth. The room is silent as he cleans you up, wiping gently between your legs, both of you keeping your eyes on anything except each other's. 
When he's done, he stands and moves to gather his clothes off the floor, tugging his boxers back on before heading towards the door. But your shaky, watery voice breaks the silence and freezes him where he stands.
"You're leaving?" You ask, voice squeaking at the end as you pull the sheet up to cover yourself, as if it would protect your heart when he ultimately breaks it again.
He turns to look at you, his heart aching in his chest from the innocent way you're looking at him. The way your eyebrows draw together, and your lips pull into a frown, the way your lower lip trembles as your eyes fill with tears.
"Can I stay?"
His voice is quiet, fragile, as if speaking any louder would scare you off, would cause you to start yelling at him again until you ultimately kick him to the curb for good.
He stares at you through the darkness of the room as you chew on your lip and try to grapple with the split decision you’re facing.
The logical part of your brain is screaming at you to say no and end this right here and now. But that part of your brain is buried and silenced underneath the heaviness in your heart. That desperate need to hang onto whatever's left. You swallow the lump in your throat and give in.
"Please," you plead softly. "Don't...don't want to be alone anymore."
A rush of air leaves his lungs as the pressure is released from his chest as he climbs back into bed beside you. Your head finds his chest, curled into his side and letting his arms wrap around you. His embrace is familiar, comforting, your safe space.
You count the steady beats of his heart in your ear as his blunt fingernail scrape lightly up and down your back, knowing it always soothes you. No words are spoken but the air between the two of you is thick, full of the things you both want to say, but neither of you speak.
Sleep wraps its tendrils around you once again, exhaustion settling in your bones. You welcome it fully, even though you know when you wake up, you'll have to face the reality of the situation once again.
You can only hope that he'll still be here in the morning to face it with you.
For now, you let yourself drown in the warmth of his embrace, pushing away all the other things that are gnawing at you and letting yourself relax in the arms of the man who broke your heart.
Just one more night.
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Thank you for reading!! :))
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reiderwriter · 3 months
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My Love Is Mine All Mine
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Week 2 of my Playlist series ��💕
Summary: Spencer Reid always liked broken things, but you didn't think you could be fixed. Maybe all you needed was understanding and companionship.
Warnings: slight angst, case details mentioned - misogyny, kidnapping, etc, but no graphic/ explicit details. Hurt/Comfort.
A/N: Tumblr, please let me post haha I've been good, I promise 🙏 This fic is so late because I've been having some technical issues with tumblr and it has greatly annoyed me, so hopefully if you're seeing this it's been fixed? Who knows... Thank you to everyone who has sent in songs so far for the Playlist series, I'll be cresting the playlist today and posting it for everyone to see and use!
Masterlist || Series Playlist
Falling for Spencer Reid wasn't in your plan for the new year, but looking back, it was probably something that was just bound to happen. 
He'd been the first person to show you any kindness after everything you went through, the first person who hadn't put their own rigid horror at your past before their attempts at sympathy. 
You watched the way people recoiled from you as you told them - bluntly, you had to be blunt - what the man in the cabin had done to you. 
He listened to your words, didn't interrupt, didn't quietly shake in anger, and refuse to meet your eyes like your father did, didn't weep for her baby like your mother did. He took your hand as it shook. He held your gaze. 
It was his job to ask questions, but there weren't many left to answer. 
The only reason you were alive was because his team had tracked the string of bodies to your kidnappers home. You were alive because one of his coworkers had put a bullet through his head, ending your nightmare. 
The very idea of love was repulsive to you as you emerged from that basement in the first days of the next year, and you remembered thinking the snow looked fresh and soft. You remembered wanting to lay in it, to wrap it around yourself like a warm blanket and drift into sleep. The cold ground would be as much comfort as you would allow yourself. 
Because after everything, you knew you didn't deserve love. 
You accepted understanding from him, though. 
When the shock wore off, you were awash in all the misery inflicted upon you. You raged, kicked, screamed, broke things, and made people uncomfortable. Nothing would numb the pain of being trapped inside your head, your head still trapped inside that basement, that cage. 
He came to visit you at the hospital. The nurses had given up on you, were content you were physically healing, and that they had technically done their job but not bothered by your deteriorating mental state. Some days, you swore that they pierced your skin in the wrong places purposefully, not even searching for your vein. 
But then he was there, with a book and a chess board, and he'd asked you if you'd ever played before. 
“No. Chess always seemed too…” You swallowed the bile that drowned your lungs and tried again. “Before, it was boring. An old person game, too many rules. Now… He said we shouldn't do things like this. Said we shouldn't cultivate our minds.” 
It was a confession again, but one that took a weight off your shoulders, and not one that pushed it further down. 
“Would you like to learn?” His tone was so soft and awkward, like a teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date, that you almost giggled. 
“I'll be honest and say you'll never beat me, I've played through most board combinations, including a large proportion of the 10^80 theorised checkmate positions, so if you'd rather do something else, that's fine, or I can leave, too, if… you'd… prefer?” 
You had laughed then, a thing that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and left your shoulders shaking as you gasped for breath doubled over. 
You'd been in hell for six months, and he'd drawn you out of it for a few moments by rambling about chess. 
“Are you a patient person, Doctor Reid?” 
“I think so.”
“Then set up the board and let's play.” 
He beat you every time, obviously, but you enjoyed his small explanations of the moves, and you did improve slightly. 
More than that, you enjoyed his company. It wasn't that you talked extensively In your hospital room, oscillating between your lowest point and somewhere just a rung above that where the snow was falling and the air was fresh, but that he never looked at you the way others did. 
You were discharged and were sad to lose that small glimmer of normality. He'd come twice a week throughout January, and now you were back in your usual shape. You were being discharged, and so that would end. 
You were surprised that he came to pick you up from the hospital the day you left. 
The parents who had looked everywhere for you for half a year hadn't wanted to, and the close friends from before hadn't spared you a thought since reposting your missing poster on their social media pages. 
But the man you played chess with twice a week, the man who'd carried you out of hell himself was there. 
“Ready to go?” You nodded, dumbstruck, and followed as he grabbed your bag. 
You weren't exactly sure where it was you were going, but you followed the man anyway, only a small part of your brain shouting in protest considering the last time you'd been blindly trusting.
He led you back to an apartment with some bare furnishings but a large window and a warm soft blanket covering the bed. It wasn't his, but yours. 
“Your parents are paying for it. They're taking the city to court due to the circumstances. Apparently, there were numerous phone calls to law enforcement that went unnoticed, but the city is looking to settle, so you don't have to worry about rent for a while, maybe ever again. The WiFi is all set up, hot water is working, and so is the heating. The locks are triple enforced, and I'm right down the hall, so if you need-” 
“What?” 
He blinked at you and suddenly, looking sheepish, as if becoming aware that he'd presumed a friendship between the two of you without consulting you first. 
“I live down the hall.” 
You stared at each other for a few moments as you processed his words. He lived down the hall. He'd driven you to your new home, set everything up for you, and he lived down the hall. 
“You're a good man, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, turning away to not let the moment linger anymore than it already had. 
Chess nights became routine. You'd set up the board and play for an hour or two or until you were sick of losing. 
Gradually, though, the nights got longer. He'd arrive just as you were eating a meal, and you'd invite him to join you, or he'd bring along takeaway and you'd eat quietly together, talking about everything and nothing.  
One day, you'd mentioned a film. A popular one, one you'd loved as a child and still rewatched to this day. 
“I've never seen it, is it good?” He'd said. And in your shock, you jumped up and sent half the chessboard flying. 
“Well, it seems that now our game is over, that we have time to give you an education, Doctor Reid.” 
“I have three PhD's-” 
“And still you haven't seen Clueless?” 
You'd pulled him over to the couch he'd picked out for you, loaded up the movie and then invented a new tradition. 
Chess nights and film nights were separate days of the week. So he could always promise to be around for one of them even if he had to miss the other because of work. 
You didn't ask him about his job anymore. He saved people like you, and you didn't need to be thinking about people like you too much.
What they went through, if they survived physically. If they survived in other ways. 
He always visited you first when he returned, though. There would be a knock on your door at some point in the day or night, and he'd let you know he was home safe. 
Another tradition. You'd opened the door to let him in the first time he'd returned from a case after you moved in, and he'd leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. 
You heard the breath of relief, loud and emotional, and hadn't quite realised it had come from you until a few minutes later. Some part of you had thought he wouldn't come back. 
Now, every time he came home, you ran to the door and quietly comforted each other, reminding the other that no matter what happened, you were both there for each other. 
You weren't sure when traditions and movies turned into love or if it had lingered over you the entire time. You didn't think you could love someone right then, your heart broken into small pieces with the torment you'd suffered. 
But it was stitched back together with pieces of him still lodged inside. He was in the very fabric of your being as you became whole again. 
The truth was that you most likely couldn't find love again because there was no room in your heart for anyone else. And you'd never be able to reschedule chess nights to go on dates anyway. 
You weren't sure if Spencer ever figured out how much of hum you carried around with him, how your eyes followed his lips as he ran through decades of memories to give you the fact he thought would please you the most. You weren't sure if he loved you as much as you did him until you were.
You'd agreed to watch one of his movies for a change, agreeing to stop the streak of 80s brat pack classics to watch a black and white war film from Russia with no subtitles. You'd sat together on that couch under blankets you'd bought together months earlier, and he'd pulled you in closer.
“I want to watch the movie and translate at the same time. You should sit here.” He'd pulled you into his lap, letting your back fall against his chest as his lips fell to your ears, and he began to whisper. 
Sitting there so closely, so intimately, was almost torture. Unconsciously, your head tipped back with his words, displaying your neck and shoulders, silently willing his lips to drift even once. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did your best not to squirm the entire movie, but with your heart beating out of your chest, it was a hopeless cause. 
“Did you enjoy it?” He whispered as the credits rolled, but you hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. It wasn't until the silence that followed his question stretched out notably that you came back to reality. You couldn't answer, in fact. You gaped for a few short moments, hoping something vague but accurate enough would just pop into your mind. 
As you attempted to negotiate yourself out of distraction, you turned your face to his, but he was closer than you thought.
Your noses touched, and your breaths mingled. His arms still wrapped around your waist, and your blankets still anchored you to one another. 
“I wasn't paying attention to the movie, Spencer. I'm sorry.” The words came out of you so fast, yet so quietly that you were surprised yourself how honest you had chosen to be. 
“Why not?” He asked, eyes having drifted sleepily down to gaze at your lips. 
You didn't answer his question but felt your cheeks flush red. You thought about pulling away, moving back, or at least laughing everything off, but you didn't. You stayed there, still like a deer in headlights. 
“Your voice was too distracting,” You forced some of the tension out of your body and let your head fall against his shoulder again, hoping this moment wouldn't end anytime soon. 
“Distracting?” He sounded concerned and shifted in his seat, lifting you up from your happy place in his arms until you were again face to face. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” 
The look on his face was so concerned and focused that you had to pause for a second to catch your breath. He cared about your comfort so much and paid attention to each word that came out of your mouth. He wanted your happiness more than anything in the world. 
“No. I'm never uncomfortable with you, Spencer.” You were back to whispering now, hands floating up to grab his own, fidgeting by his sides. You bought them up to your face and guided his hands to your cheeks, needing to show him just how comfortable you were with him in actions, not just words. Words could be dishonest. Actions were honest. 
His concern melted away as he began stroking your cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at you. 
Though you were both content, you'd never been quite this intimate before. So when his thumb swiped over the corner of your lips, your eyes both caught on each other. You could see him weighing up the outcomes in his head, going back and forth between pulling away and pushing in closer.
Slowly and softly, as though he were trying not to startle you, his head moved closer until his lips were on yours. 
It was a quiet kiss. You wouldn't describe it as fireworks, or butterflies, or anything loud and grand and passionate. It was quiet, and it was right. 
He pulled away seconds later, trying to gauge your reaction, but you followed him away and kissed him again. 
When you finally pulled away, it took you a few seconds to realise you'd climbed back into his lap, unconsciously having moved closer to him. You guiltily looked up, waiting to see any discomfort on his features, but to your surprise, he was busy straightening out your hair. 
“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered as he took care of you. He smiled, looking down at you once again, pulling his arms around you to gently lower both of you down to a laying position on your couch. 
“I love you, too,” he said as you held each other and drifted into contented sleep.
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hyunniesgirl · 5 months
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Another Love | part 3
Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.
Words count: 5,082
Warnings: do I even have to warn you guys about angst at this point?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
A/N: this is not proofread because I'm sleepy, tomorrow I'll probably come back and fix the things that should be fixed.
I'm planning two or three more parts for this fic.
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Seungmin got home after work and awkwardly told you he found a new roommate, it's a friend from his highschool time.
“That's great”, you tell him, even though you're worried, because that means you have to go back home and you just don't know if you're ready yet.
“I asked him for two weeks, so I could settle everything, so take your time”, he says and you nod.
That is a good amount of time, Jeongho is coming to see you in two days and you're really looking forward to seeing him. You find yourself already missing the man even though it's barely two weeks since you last saw him last.
Things with Jeongho are going slowly but great, he's sweet and makes sure you're comfortable with every advance he makes. You can't deny, being the object of affection of such a handsome and interesting person is flattering.
“Do you wanna go out before I move out? We can go watch a movie or eat something nice, it's on me”, you ask while watching him walk to his room.
“That would be nice, I'll check my schedule and we can set the date”, he tells you before closing the door to his bedroom.
You're so grateful to Seungmin, if it wasn't for him you would have been forced to stay living with Jisung after he rejected you, or you would have had to rent a crap apartment on short notice so you could have a place to stay without bothering anyone.
Speaking of the devil, it's the first time in a few days you're thinking about Jisung and you realize how relieved you are. It makes you believe things are finally looking up for you.
Living in Japan, Jeongho can only come to see you on weekends when he's not working. So you basically spend two weekends a month with him, it's not perfect but at the same time you two decided to take things slowly so you're taking your time to actually develop your feelings for him. What doesn't take very long.
You're not sure if it's because you were deprived of an actual romantic relationship for quite some time or if it happens to be like that because Jeongho is such a warm person to be around, but you just know you like him.
You are at the airport, waiting for him to arrive. When people start coming out of the gate, you tiptoe trying to find him in the crowd.
He's doing the same as you, but being taller it's not so difficult for him to find you. You jump and wave with your arms even though you know he already saw you, but you're just too excited to see him.
“And here I thought it would be difficult finding you”, he stops in front of you while you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze him into your embrace.
“I missed you”, you tell him. He chuckles, bringing his hands up and cupping your face, lightly brushing his lips on yours before landing the most sweet kiss.
“I missed you too”, he tells you, connecting your foreheads. You smile brightly, feeling warm.
You really like Jeongho, and that makes you wonder how your life would have been if you had said yes to him in middle school.
“Let's go”, you say, intertwining you fingers with him, “you have to rest because I have lots of fun planned for us”
He nods, paying attention to every word you say while you tell him some of the things you want to do during the weekend.
You stay in his hotel since you can't take him to sleep on Seungmin's sofa. You two ask for room service and talk about everything—his life in Japan, his work, your major, your tutoring and how things are going now that you will have to go back to live with Jisung.
“How are you feeling about that?” He asks, while you eat.
“Honestly, I don't know”, you tell him. “But I'm pretty confident, things are different now, I even have a hot boyfriend”, you joke, making him choke on his food.
“I don't remember being asked out”, he says, raising one eyebrow.
“Well, I thought it was a giving”, you shrug, biting on your burger, “since you're down bad for me”
He laughs out loud, throwing his head back.
“I'm not saying you're wrong, but you could be a little more humble”, he tells you, grabbing a napkin and whipping the ketchup off of the corner of your lips.
“Don't you think I've been humble enough for like a decade?”
“You got a point”
You soon finish your dinner and turn on the TV so you can watch a movie. It's just comfortable being with Jeongho, he makes the storm that usually is your mind become a light rain.
The next day is packed, you wake him up at 9 a.m. knowing it's going to be difficult to take him out of bed, especially when he keeps holding you and trying to make you stay in his warm embrace.
“We have to go”, you tell him, trying to escape from his heavy arm around your waist.
“Just more five minutes”, he asks, snuggling his head in the crock of your neck.
You really do want to stay like this with him, but you can't be swayed, you two have a full schedule that must be fulfilled.
“Jeongho, we must go or we are going to lose my first surprise”, you pout.
“Surprise?” He asks, backing away to look at you.
“Yes, I prepared a lot of things for us to do this weekend”, you give him a smug smile, “I didn't tell you half of it yesterday”
“Hm, that does sound interesting”, the hold on your waist tightens, making your body press even more against his. Jeongho lands a kiss on your cheek, then on your neck, going slower, “but you'll have to give me more than that to convince me that anything you planned is better than this”, you gasp feeling his hot breath hitting on your skin.
“I-”, you're not sure if you want to go out anymore, after feeling his soft lips again. “Babe”, you whisper, almost giving up when he flinches, backing away again. He is blushing.
“Did you just call me ‘babe’?” He asks flustered and you nod, smiling sheepishly.
“I mean, if you don't like it-”
“Of course I like it”, he answers fast, sitting on the bed. “Let's go, if you keep this up I won't let you get out of this bed for the whole weekend”, he tells you, getting up.
That offer does sound tempting, you sigh, but you two really do have lots to do.
Jeongho is not your first boyfriend, you didn't spend years pining over Jisung just waiting. Trying to get over him one way or another, you had your fair share of relationships, they just quite never made you feel like it was enough.
Until now. Jeongho easily swept you off your feet, liking him is just natural.
“Say cheese”, he asks while taking a selfie of you two, you're resting in a cafe after walking for hours.
“You really do like taking pictures”, you say and he nods.
“I do, especially when I'm with the second prettiest woman in the world”, he tells you.
You chuckle.
“May I presume that the number one is your mother?”
“Of course, dear. Who else could compete with you?”, he jokes, making you roll your eyes.
Jeongho’s name is called and he excuses himself to go to the counter to get your orders. This cafe you're visiting just opened, it is pretty popular and always crowded. You were only able to secure a table for your date because Hanna has a friend who works at the cafe and they were able to reserve it for you.
You hear the noise from the bell on the door and lift your eyes out of your phone to look at it, meeting Jisung's eyes.
What is he doing here?
“I didn't want to say it, but I think the cake you make is prettier than this one”, you hear Jeongho's voice, making you turn away to look at him, praying that your best friend won't try to talk to you.
Jeongho is much more sensible than you think, he picks up on your sudden stiffness and the awkwardness on your face, looking around to find out what happened. He sees Jisung coming in your direction hand in hand with a girl.
His right hand moves fast to the hand you have on the table, and his left one lands on your back, giving you reassurance.
“Jisung, it's been a while”, Jeongho says, voice more stern than you're used to, making you look at his face again, to see him almost glaring at your friend.
“Jeongho”, Han smiles, glancing at the hand your boyfriend has over yours and noticing how close you're from each other, “I thought you lived in Japan”, he points out.
“I do, but I come often to visit my girlfriend”, Jeongho smiles pretentiously.
“Your what now?” Han asks him, but he's looking at you, “last time I checked you haven't seen each other for almost ten years”
You turn your hand around, interlacing your fingers with Jeongho.
“Well, it has been a while since you last checked”, you answer, confidently.
Jisung's stand falters and the frown in his face is just priceless but you feel bad that he had to find out this way.
“Why are you being so awkward”, Lia says, glaring at him, “you should be happy for them”
She smiles at you.
“I'm happy for you, y/n, please take good care of her”, she tells Jeongho and he smiles kindly at her. “We will be on our way, then”
You have known Lia for a few months now. She was always nice to you, going to the apartment all the time and you thought her and Jisung to be just friends until you saw him smiling when he picked up her call, the same smile you have coveted for so long, wishing you were the one in the receiving end of that smile.
But you never were.
There's no reason for you to dislike her just because she is with him, now you have your own love and you don't need to wish for the affection of someone that doesn't have it in them to give it to you.
“Well, that was awkward”, Jeongho's voice takes you out of your daze. “Are you alright?”, he asks, bending down to be closer to you.
You smile at him, giving him a peck on the lips.
“I'm good, I have you”, you tell him. The man smiles brightly, tilting his head while looking at you lovingly.
“Now I'm thinking you're the one who's down bad for me”, he scoffs playfully, standing up and sitting in front of you.
“I can't confirm nor deny”, you say, winking at him. “What I can confirm is that the cake I bake is prettier than this one”, you bring back what he told you before.
“That's what I'm telling you!” He says excitedly, forgetting about Jisung, and honestly, you do too.
Why is she laughing so much? Is he even that funny? Or is she just trying to win his favor? Those are the thoughts Jisung has in his head while waiting for his order to get ready, he can't stop stealing glances at you, he misses your smiles and your laugh, there was a time he was the main reason for that beautiful sound to come out of your mouth.
“They look good together”, Lia's voice never sounded so annoying to him, what is she even talking about? You and Jeongho don't look good at all.
He gets up when his name is called, going to the counter to pick up his order and walking outside to meet Lia after. He can't stop thinking about you, if you hadn't gone away he would be the first person to know about you and Jeongho. It's just weird for him not being the first person you tell things to, that's what is bothering him he's sure of it.
The fact that he couldn't listen to anything Lia said throughout their whole date honestly worries him, Jisung has no idea what's happening to him and why he's acting this way towards the girl he was so into a few months ago.
He tries to bury himself in work, doing everything to stop thinking. He's afraid of what he's going to find out if he dig any deeper trying to understand his feelings.
You're in front of your apartment, you know the passcode and you know Jisung is not there at that moment but you just can't move. You have your huge bag hanging on your shoulder and another one on the floor, the only thing you have to do is go inside, so why is it so terrifying? The other time you went there to pick your books and some clothes, you didn't feel this way.
Was it because you knew you were not staying? Or was it because you and your best friend were on better terms at the time? Maybe you should just rent a crap apartment and go live alone. But how are you going to explain that to your parents? You can’t run away from Jisung your whole life, he is your best friend.
“Oh dear, were you traveling?” You hear the voice of the old lady who lives right next door.
You turn around, putting the sweetest smile you have on your lips.
“Hello, Mrs. Park, I was visiting a friend”, you half lie.
“Oh, that sounds like fun”, she giggles, “are you having trouble going inside?”
“Actually, Jisung changed the password and forgot to tell me”, you smile, lying through your teeth now, “I'm waiting for him to answer my texts”
She nods.
“Oh, your generation don't like to call, right? If I were you, I would call him until he picked up”, she jokes, “would you like to come inside to wait? You're going to get tired by just standing there”
You breathe, relieved, you know it's just a temporary measure but you'll take any opportunity not to enter your apartment yet.
“I would love to”, you answer her, grabbing the bag from the floor and following her inside.
Her apartment has pretty much the same layout as yours, but the decoration couldn't be any more different. She has lots of trinkets, frames and a clock hanging on the wall. There are a lot of pictures of her children and grandchildren.
“What about your husband?” You ask, sitting on the sofa while watching her going through the kitchen and putting some water to boil.
“He's visiting his brother in the countryside”, she answers. Your eyes wander around the room, landing on a frame with a beautiful couple. The picture looks old as it has a lot of aging marks.
“Oh, it's me and my husband”, Mrs. Park says, making you flinch to hear her so close to you. She has a proud smile on her lips. “Quite a handsome couple, weren't we?” She points out and you nod.
“Yes, a very charming couple”
She sighs, putting the tray with the teacups on the table in the center of the room.
“You know, he was my best friend”, she sits on the sofa, pointing to the other side for you to do the same, “I didn't always see him as a man, you know? I was in love with someone else at the time he confessed”
You stare at her, not sure what she's trying to say.
“But that guy broke my heart and he was there to pick it up and I fell in love”, she completes, with loving eyes.
“I'm not sure if I understand”, you say, feeling strangely uncomfortable.
“I'm telling you that the person you like may take a bit of time to understand his feelings”, she smiles kindly, “but I'm sure he will come to his senses”
You drop your eyes to your hands, fidgeting with your fingers. You're sure the old lady is only telling you that so you can feel better, but you don't feel like that at all. You don't want Jisung to like you now, you are exhausted from waiting for him.
“Your story is amazing, Mrs. Park”, you tell her, “but I already have someone who's absolutely sure of his feelings for me”, you stand, “I don't think I'll have to wait for another love”
She stares at you for a moment, analyzing you, trying to guess if you're being serious. Then, she smiles, standing too.
“I'm glad you came to that conclusion, honey”, she gets closer, patting you on the back. “Did Jisung send you the password?”, she asks, seeing you collect your bags.
“Yes, I have everything I need to go back home”, you say, thanking her for the hospitality.
You take a few deep breaths before pressing the password on the lock of your door. The house is the same as it was when you last went there.
You put your things in your room, unpacking your belongings and putting everything in place. You go to the living room, opening the glass door to the balcony so some air can circulate inside, you're sure Jisung spent his days out and didn't worry about opening the house a bit.
You go to the kitchen, there's nothing in the freezer, you already knew that you'd find it empty so it's time to go grocery shopping.
You're in the middle of the vegetables section when your phone buzzes. Looking at the device, you see Jeongho's name lightening the screen.
“Hey”, you answer, smiling.
“Hello, my love”, he says, you hear heavy breathing in the back of the call.
“Is everything okay?” You ask, worried.
“Yeah, I was hitting the gym and they called me from the office saying they needed me”, he sighs, rustling at the other side of the line.
“If you're in a hurry why are you calling me?” You ask, frowning.
“Of course, it's because I told you I would call you in the afternoon”, he tells you like it's the most obvious thing in the world and you giggle, feeling the happiest at that moment, warmth growing on your chest.
“You could have just texted me”, you tell him.
“Then I wouldn't be able to hear your sweet voice”, you're sure he has that flirty playful smile on his lips while saying that.
You sigh, leaning on a shelf from the store.
“I miss you”, you tell him.
On the other side of the line Jeongho stops on his tracks, smiling to himself while fidgeting.
“Me too, I can't wait to see you next weekend”, he says, “I was thinking maybe we could have dinner with all your friends so I can be officially introduced?”
“Yeah, that would be great”, you say, “I'll talk to them”
“Okay, I have to go now but I'll text you later”
It's great having someone who actually reciprocates your feelings, much better, someone you're so into as Jeongho.
You walk out of the elevator struggling to carry the groceries, finding a feminine figure hovering over your door. When she turns around, you recognize Lia.
“Hey”, you frown, did Jisung not tell her he was out?
“Y/N, hey!” She says, smiling at you. “Here, let me help you”, she says, grabbing two bags out of your hands.
“Thank you!” You say, “Jisung is not home right now, but come inside to wait for him, I don't think he's going to take long”
You open the door, giving space for her to walk in and then close the door.
“I'm sorry about showing up unannounced”, she smiles sheepishly, putting the bags on the table in the kitchen. “I texted Jisung but he didn't see my texts, I just wanted to give this to him”, she says, taking a pot out of her bag.
“Oh, okay”, you take it from her hands and turn around, putting it in the fridge.
“You can have some, I made a lot”, she says awkwardly and you smile at her.
“Thank you, Lia. Are you sure you don't want to wait?” You ask, looking at the mirror, you're sure he will be home soon and if she stays it's less of an opportunity for you to speak to him.
“I have class”, she sighs, “can you tell him to call me?”
“Sure, I'll tell him”, you nod. She starts walking to the door and you accompany her, saying goodbye and watching her enter the elevator, waving goodbye to you while the doors are closing.
You're sure you could have been friends if things were different. You sigh, rolling up the sleeves of your shirt while going back inside.
You brought a lot of vegetables, they all need to be washed before being put in the fridge, so you start taking them out of the bags to organize everything.
You have the sink’s tap running and some music playing on your phone, so when the door is opened and a tired Jisung enters the house you don't seem to notice.
He stares at you as if you're a mirage, happiness overflowing in his chest with your presence back home. He watches as you hum to the song playing, a few strands of your hair falling on your face.
With a bowl of vegetables ready to be stored, you turn around bumping into your best friend, making you jump.
“When did you get here?” You ask, with your hand on your chest, heart beating fast, not sure if it's because of the surprise or because you're finally facing him.
“I just got here”, he lies, he can't tell you it's been minutes he's there watching you.
You nod, opening the fridge to store the vegetables, trying to avoid his gaze. Not sure of how to act now that you're back.
“Oh, Lia stopped by and left you this”, you point to the pot.
“I'm sorry, I didn't know she was going to come here”, he starts explaining and you frown.
“There's no reason for you to apologize, she's your girlfriend”, you answer nonchalantly and he steps back, feeling a sudden ache in his chest. You're not even looking at him while saying that, but why is it that you look so unbothered? Are you really over him? That's what he wanted, so why doesn't he feel relieved?
“She's not my girlfriend”, he tells you, frowning. You finally look at him, he's staring at you like he expects something from you. You don't know what he wants and you sure don't have the energy to try and find out.
“Anyway”, you say, closing the fridge, “I'm sure she'll be your girlfriend soon, you can bring her anytime you want don't mind me”
“Won't you feel uncomfortable?” He asks, fidgeting uncomfortably.
“Not at all”, you grab your phone and put it in your pocket, ready to go take a shower. “I plan on bringing my boyfriend a lot here, so it won't be fair to you if you can't do the same”
You flash him a smile before heading to your room. You're acting the same as you did before your confession, so why does it make him so miserable now?
“So, does he want to ask for your hand in marriage or something like that?” Felix asks, making you and Hannah choke on your drinks, while Hyunjin and Minho laugh at your reaction. “I'm just asking!”
“No, why would you even think that?”, you chuckle.
“It's such a formal thing to have dinner like this”, Seungmin points out, “normal people just arrange a meeting at a cafe or something like that”
“He likes y/n, he must not be right in the head”, Jeongin says and you smack him in the head, making him pout.
“I think it's cute that he wants to meet you all formally”, you say.
“I think it's nice too”, Hannah supports you, “if you guys don't wanna go just say it”
“Now, we didn't say that”, Minho says. “It's just a bit weird to finally meet a boyfriend you actually like. Especially since we all thought Hannie would fall in love with you eventually”
You nod, sighing and feeling a bit upset with his comment, but you know it's impossible for people to forget you were in love with Jisung for more than a decade.
“Yeah, I get where you're coming from, but I'm happy with Jeongho and I want you all to meet him and know how great he is”
Minho nods.
“Yeah, okay. Then, I guess I'll have to give him the ‘dad talk’”, he says seriously and everyone laughs at your terrified face.
“Please don't”, you beg him.
You get home earlier than expected, Jisung is not home yet so you have the house to yourself for a bit. A long, hot shower is everything you need to relax. It's been a long week with awkward interactions between you and Jisung, you kept trying to avoid him, at least until you feel comfortable like you used to.
You spend too much time organizing your wardrobe, when you look at the time you realize how late it is. So you grab a towel and hurry to the bathroom, trying to get back to your room before Jisung gets home.
The hot water does wonders to you, even though you have to take a quick shower, it helps a lot with your sore muscles from stress.
When you wrap yourself in the towel and your clothes are nowhere to be found, you know you fucked up. It's even worse when you hear the beeps at the door, fucking hell. Things are already awkward, if you walk out of this bathroom in only a piece of fabric, things will be even worse.
You can tell Jisung is in the kitchen because you can hear him walking around, opening the cabinets and humming to some music while setting the table. You're sure you can just run to your room and he'll never know this happened.
That would be a great plan, actually, if Han wasn't knocking on your room's door exactly when you got out of the bathroom.
He turns around, with a big smile on his face that automatically dies down the moment he sees you. Your life is so fucked up, really. You have been living together for three years, of course he had seen you in only a towel before but things were inevitably different now. Maybe he thinks you did this on purpose?
"Ahm-", you're trying to explain yourself, you can tell he's speechless, "I was trying to shower before you arrived and happened to forget to take my clothes with me", you say, smiling sheepishly.
"Oh, yeah", he answers, stepping aside so you can enter your room. "You can come eat when you're done, I brought pizza", he says and you nod, walking fast into your room and locking the door.
From now on you'll have a checklist of things you have to take to the bathroom when showering so your dumbass doesn't forget about the most important thing: clothes.
Han feels his ears getting warmer, you look somehow different, he just can't tell exactly what changed. Every other time you saw him in a towel or the other way around, you both would brush it off and laugh about it, why does he feel so embarrassed now?
"Did you change your hair?" He asks, your mouth is full so you can't answer him right away.
"No? Maybe it grew a bit"
"That must be it", he nods.
Yeah, it's definitely her hair that's different, he thinks.
"I'll do the dishes, you must be tired after practicing all day", you say, gathering the plates.
Han nods, getting up and telling you he's going to take a shower.
The image of the drops of water running from your hair through your neck and chest and disappearing in the soft fabric is the first thing that comes to Jisung's mind when the hot water hits his skin.
Where you always like that? Your skin looked so soft, he felt the urge to caress it, what would your reaction be if he touched you?
Han frowns, why the hell is he thinking about that? He must be crazy, it's the only reasonable answer.
The fact that another date with Lia went by and Jisung couldn't pay attention to a word she said makes it clear to him that things are not the same between them and that he doesn't want to keep things going as they are.
“I think we shouldn't see each other anymore”, he says, when they arrive at her apartment. Lia's hands stop before she can open the door and she turns around slowly, looking at Jisung.
“What are you talking about?” She asks, leaning on the door, staring at the guy she likes. He sighs, trying to come up with a good explanation for the reason he wants to end things.
“I just, don't feel the same anymore”, he looks at his feet, not able to look her in the eyes yet.
She is staring at him, crossed arms in front of her chest, trying to hold the tears, trying not to break.
“You have been acting indifferent to me for quite some time now”, she points out, with a bitter smile on her lips. “I should have ended things when I first noticed it, I guess I just like you that much, huh”, she completes, taking a deep breath.
“I'm sorry”, Han sighs, finally looking at her, “I didn't mean to hurt you”
“Yeah”, she scoffs, “Is it because of y/n?”
Jisung's eyes widen.
“It was always quite clear that she liked you”, she completes, before he can say anything. “I just didn't pay any mind to it because you guys have been friends for such a long time”
“It's not like that-”, he tries to argue.
“That day at the cafe you couldn't take your eyes out of her and that guy”, she points out, “she liked you for so long and right when she finds someone else you start liking her?” Lia scoffs, feeling the tears brimming in her eyes.
“I don't like her like that”, he says and the girl rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that”, she says before turning around and entering her apartment, closing the door in his face.
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A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback give me motivation to keep writing. Also, you can buy me a coffee.
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cxlamarisalxmi · 10 months
Text
Being Miguel’s daughter and hosting Venom [2]
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[Platonic One-Shot]
c/w: fighting, depictions of violence and gore, angst, female pronouns (she/her), feminine gendered terms used to describe reader, Venom is a big softie, only for you though 🤭
a/n: this is marked as part two because the first one shot was the first part, the drabble was more of an introduction to the idea 😭 I understand there might be some confusion about how these parts are set up but yeah the drabble was intended to introduce the idea more than it was meant to be an actual part of the series— like an extended epigraph… sort of
It was raining the day your father had decided to return to your dimension— the dark and gloomy rain clouds above thick and heavy as they devoured the sky.
With them they brought raindrops thick and heavy in density that were spat out in a torrential downpour. Falling in copious and rapid quantities.
You had been sitting perched on the corner of a building’s roof, observant and watchful as you patrolled the streets from your perch.
The darkness that had followed the overcast night sky left the street lamps and starkly bright city lights bright and prominent in their glow. And your sensitive and finely tuned auditory perception picked up on the sounds of tires driving through rainwater on the pavement. The sound of particularly nocturnal people walking, bustling and moving about— the way their shoe soles stepped on the soaked through concrete of the sidewalk, some splashing as they came across puddles in the divets of the ground.
Everything that involved your senses and being aware of the world around you sharpened dramatically, now keen on focusing on the world around you. Listening starkly for any kind of traumatic event occurring.
“I like the rain.”
“Me too.”
“The atmosphere is relaxing. We feel at peace.”
You couldn’t help but agree, the weather more than accommodating in the sense your mood had improved drastically.
It had been two weeks since your father had made his appearance, and since then you had been tightly wound and more than a little hurt at his abrupt intrusion. Even more hurt at the way he had just left without so much as an ounce of effort in trying to get you to talk to him.
He had called your name, and he did speak to you— that was something you could acknowledge, but the fact he hadn’t bothered trying beyond that spoke a lot about what your relationship had come to. What it still was.
He didn’t care about you, he never had and the encounter from a little less than half a month ago gave you the impression that he never would.
A small part of you could admit that you had hoped maybe he would come after you, chase you down, take you into his arms and hold you tenderly. Lovingly.
An even larger part overwhelmed that feeling with a cold and bitter indifference that made you more angry than sad. Sparked to life when he left you behind in a home you didn’t know, with people you didn’t trust— and festered to much more significant levels as the years continued to pass with not a single word from him.
You shouldn’t have expected him to make an effort to fix your relationship, and you hated that you were so bothered that he hadn’t tried at all. You should’ve known that he hadn’t ever intended to be involved with you at all. And you should’ve just accepted that your relationship was beyond fixing— and there was no point in trying to repair something that had died a long time ago. Irreparable— damaged and broken.
And whilst anger and hate had spread and taken over most of your heart and soul, there was still a small part inside that was more hurt than anything.
That small child inside that had depended on her father more than ever in the wake of her mother’s death. A little girl that had quickly learned he wasn’t dependable, she couldn’t count on him at all. And she was quick to learn that there wasn’t anyone who had her back, was on her side. It developed into her trusting absolutely no one— “the only one I can really trust.. is me.”
“[Y/Name]? Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you murmured quiet and tame as you continued to watch over the city. The darkness and ache that had consumed your heart so very deeply at the remembrance of your father had dissipated when your friend had spoken to you. “I’m fine V.”
“Was it about him?”
You didn’t respond and they had expected that you wouldn’t, and didn’t say much after that. And you appreciated their understanding that you didn’t want to talk about them.
There was a moment of tranquility, peace in the loud bustle of your city as the rain continued to fall. But then your senses tingled as the familiar sound of a portal spinning open erupted behind you. There wasn’t a moment of stillness that you allowed before you were spitting webs at the wall behind the portal.
Miguel walked through the portal a moment later, it closed a second after and then you were launching yourself at him.
He may have not had the tingle at the expense he wasn’t even really changed like you had been. He hadn’t been bitten but had his genetic code changed, and his abilities came from a vial of liquid he injected directly into his bloodstream to keep his powers sharp and potent.
So, whilst he didn’t have the spider senses that tingled anytime danger was nearby, his natural instincts had been sharpened finely. Thus, he was able to bring up his arms as you drop kicked him into the wall you had slung your webs at.
Even though he was blocking his face protectively you had put enough strength behind the kick to hurt him, and he grunted as your kick connected sending him flying back.
[Y/Name] jumped to meet him against the brick wall and grabbed him by the throat, tightening her clawed fingers around his neck before she was pulling him from the wall and throwing him off the building to the street below.
The previous feeling of peace and content that had warmed her chest and blood had diminished, and was now replaced with thorough rage. Hot and ferocious.
[Y/Name] had sworn to Venom that she absolutely would resort to murder if her father ever returned to her universe, and here he was. So the alien didn’t falter nor make an effort to halt the anger that was slowly but surely filling his host’s body.
Another portal opened up behind her and she felt an itch of annoyance as she felt the familiar presence that made her senses tingle. Jessica Drew.
A snarl tugged at her features as she curled her lip and looked over her shoulder, a ferocious glare fierce and angry in her bright eyes.
“Venom.”
“Of course.”
Jessica stared as a thick, black matter pooled from her back and slid across her lean and muscular frame. The alien-like viscous oil gliding across every plane of her frame, concealing her entire white and blue suit in a tightened black version of it instead.
“[Y/Name],” Jessica began soft and quiet— an attempt to somehow quell the furious fire of rage she could feel hot and angry from where she stood several feet behind the young teenager. “I know what you must be feeling—”
“You don’t know shit.”
“You want to kill him. And I can’t let you do tha—”
Her sentence was cut short when she was suddenly thrown backwards, her senses had tingled but not nearly quick enough. And she had been sent backwards to the brick wall in consequence, she gaped at the O’hara stood in front of her on the edge of the roof.
She had turned to face Jessica with her back, and the blackened webbing surrounding her body seemed to pulse and tightened around her body. Every time she squirmed attempting to loosen them, cut them or escape they would just tighten. She resorted to calling out to [Y/Name] instead—
“Spider-Woman doesn’t kill people!”
[Y/Name] willed her mask to peel away, the small and thin tendrils crawling up her neck and hugging her forehead only made the harsh glare she threw at Jessica over her shoulder much darker. The snarl she gave baring abnormally sharp canines seemed to make her even more intimidating— it made Jessica uncomfortable how a simple look made a chill rake down her back.
“You’re right. But we do.”
And she shivered again at the alien voice that rumbled from the young adult’s chest. The words she spoke only succeeding in making her all the more uncomfortable and frightened. The tone she spoke in was deep and ferociously monstrous. And Jessica stared as the O’hara glared back for a single second before she jumped disappearing over the side of the roof.
[Y/Name] landed on the sidewalk paved along the side of the asphalt road, she jumped forward flipping out of the way as her father shot a web at the spot she occupied previously.
But he had jumped to meet her midair and they grappled as they fell back to the road, she managed to wrangle a hold on the back of his suit and brought forth Venom’s strength to throw him down the road before landing on it herself.
Miguel’s sharpened instincts flared aggressively as his young daughter launched a car at him. He spun around extending his arm forward simultaneously— the long and sharp blade on his forearm cutting the car cleanly in half. But she had been there to surprise him, lunging forward after she had thrown the car knowing he’d cut it in half opening up an ambush as she erupted in between each piece of the vehicle.
He gasped silently in shock at her appearance through the split and grunted when her punch connected to his face. Enough strength from her abilities coupled with Venom to send him flying back. And he flipped midair to land on his feet several feet down the street, he dug the blades on his forearms into the pavement to halt his movement as he looked up.
“I suffered! Alone! For twenty years, because of your cowardice!” [Y/Name] shouted as she stormed down the street, the mask Venom provided peeling back to reveal a ferocious snarl tugging her lips back and baring abnormally sharper canines.
“Protecting the security of the multiverse is not cowardly!”
“You knew invading another universe at the expense of your variant’s death was wrong! You knew your presence could collapse the very fabrics of a dimension! You always knew!” She roared in exclamation to his rather weak defense, having stopped just a few feet in front of him to properly put her feelings forward. Give him everything she had bottled up inside that had erupted suddenly since his abrupt appearance in her dimension two weeks ago.
Miguel just stood there, he swallowed thickly at her statement as he held eye contact with her. There wasn’t any indication he was intimidated by her on his face, his expression blank and guarded with slanted brows and narrowed eyes. But internally he was dreading the fight that would no doubt occur, she was anomoly after all.
“But— when she told you she was pregnant, when she told you she was excited to start your family.. what did you do? What did you do? You. Ran!”
“She was never meant to bear children! Never meant to give birth to you— that was not my fault!”
The audacity he had to ruin her life and not even acknowledge it only made [Y/Name] all the more furious, her blood boiling beneath her skin as she tightened her vicious snarl. “Not your fault?!”
[Y/Name] advanced forward, she reached to her left— her muscular forearm flexing beneath the deep black Venom suit as she gripped the side of another car and effortlessly lifted it throwing it at him.
He jumped to the side to dodge but she was there to meet him once again, having leapt from her spot on the street to put her knee in his face. He couldn’t bring his arms up quick enough to block it this time, and she forced him backwards when she utilized Venom’s alien strength to really hurt him.
Miguel grunted as her strike connected and he was thrown into the side of the building off to the side. She followed right behind him tearing her arm back and throwing it forward the second she was close enough. The hit had enough power and strength in it to send him right through the brick wall and into the empty warehouse within.
[Y/Name] landed several feet away from the form of her father on the ground, he was slow to get back to his feet but once he had he turned to face her. And she could tear his throat out at the scowl carved into his features, the conversation that followed only making her all the more infuriated.
“I’m not here for any other reason than to capture the anomaly in your dimension.” He says, a still blank and guarded look on his face. One that his young daughter matched only to a degree that looked more like she was enraged rather than unbothered.
“There’s no anomaly here, Venom and I would’ve picked up it’s unnatural scent immediately.” She reasoned.
“You wouldn’t know of it’s presence. Because it’s you.”
“What?”
“You are an anomaly, you were never meant to be born.. never meant to be bitten… never meant to host Venom. You don’t belong. You need to be contained.”
[Y/Name] froze, Venom inside stilling too as he and herself processed the words that had just fell from her father’s mouth. All was quiet for but a moment—
“You…”
Miguel watched as a dark look overtook her features, from enraged previously to downright hostile as her eyes darkened to an unseen degree. He felt a shiver of fear and intimidation shuck down his back in a brief burst.
“You bastard.”
The snarled words growled from her throat sent another ripple down his spine. And he swallowed thickly as the deep black viscous matter of Venom returned, and then she bore the same appearance as before.
The same lean and muscular frame but now entirely black with a white spider insignia, her mask’s eyes now more monstrous-like as opposed to the regular diamond shape as most spider people.
“Fine.”
[Y/Name] Venom snarled ferociously, Miguel watched as the alien bulked up his daughter. Not so much so that it wasn’t proportionate but enough to have him breathe out a brief exhale of uncertainty and anxiety.
His daughter had become powerful in his absence, and he had caused the black hatred to plague her heart. The fact she only looked at him with hate and a fiery light of murder and bloodthirsty rage was his fault and his fault alone. He had no one to blame but himself.
So, he really had no one to blame for this fight that would occur one way or another. He wasn’t sure he could beat her, and for the first time in a long while he felt a surge of anxiousness brew to life in his stomach. His heartbeat slightly erratic at the new feeling of diminished confidence in his chest.
He knew this would be hard, he knew he was walking into this fight with a significant power difference, and he knew for damn sure he wasn’t certain he’d keep his head. And Miguel had no one to blame for it—
But himself.
a/n: started writing out requests so expect to see those soon but don’t get too excited as I can’t promise when exactly they’ll be finished and posted, my classes are kicking my ass and my job fucking sucks so.. bear with me please and I hope you enjoyed!
Taglist: @violilaqrs @christinesdemoness1958 @erensbbg @nickey-diano @gamersansblog @ayyybee @raweggeater @shrekstoesblog @azzy-ozborn @nda-approval @9kaaulitz @jazjelspen @myconglomerateromance @sweetheartlizzie07 @nyx-does-stuff @krazy-kattzz @sparklyphantom @loser-alert @bath1lda
Sorry if I missed you on the taglist!
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wowconradfisher · 11 months
Text
all of the girls you’ve loved before
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pairing: min ho x reader
genre: slight angst, best friends to lovers, they are both so dense to each others feelings..
summary: being best friends with KISS’s resident “heart throb” is not for the weak. falling in love with him isn’t either, so what happens when the line between best friend and boyfriend becomes too blurred?
a/n: hi hello i am back from the dead. i’m convinced this acc is just gonna be a jenny han-iverse fic acc bc if not conrad then i’m writing about min ho. i have ended school so i hope i am more consistent with writing! feel free to send in requests + questions btw :D i hope u guys enjoy this silly fic that is also based off a taylor swift song hence the title!
Sitting outside of your best friend’s party that he throws every year was not something you thought you would be doing. You were convinced that this time was going to be different, and maybe just because you were seeing Min Ho in a different light, he would see you too. Here you still were, all dolled up but with no guts to walk into the party. You sighed, thinking about how pathetic you might be looking at the moment to anyone walking by. It was annoying in your opinion, just a month ago you couldn’t stand the thought of being with your best friend but now you’re starting to second guess and think more about the times you’ve spent together.
It was about 2 weeks ago when you and Min Ho, well more so you, started kind of overthinking the things you two would do together. You used to think that it was just regular best friend things you did, like talking about your past lovers and flings, laughing about all of the late nights you both have spent on your own having lame fights on the phone. But then you start thinking about the other nights, sneaking out past curfew and holding onto each other's hands in hopes of not getting caught. Or the way he would treat you the way he would never treat anyone else, allowing you to see his softer side, doing silly things like letting you do his skin care after he knows you’ve been crying in his bathroom about some dude that said “loved you” not knowing how carelessly he’s throwing out the words that mean so much to you. You see yourself doing the regular “best friend duties” like never saying bye to each other because you know you’ll be seeing each other again anyways, but you know it shouldn’t bother you when you see the new transfer student Madison write your best friend’s name in a heart all over her assignment. 
You shook yourself out of your daze and stood up, you knew it was wrong for you to be feeling this way about your best friend and there was no reason for you to start feeling this way now. Looking at your phone’s reflection to fix up your makeup, you took a deep breath and confidently made your way to the venue. Walking in and seeing a bunch of lights and loud music was expected, but tonight your goal was to forget about how you felt and let the universe tell you what to do. 
“Excuse me ma’am who let you out looking so good?” a voice spoke from behind you while tapping you on the shoulder.
You turned around and to your surprise it was one of your other close friends, “Q oh my gosh I haven’t seen you in like a week!” you exclaimed while pulling him into a hug, not failing to notice Florian behind him. Once you pulled away you waved at the other male who signaled to his flask, basically asking you if you wanted a shot. You grinned and suddenly all of your prayers had been answered and your night had begun. 
If you were being honest, you knew you weren’t a light weight. You always thought of yourself as someone who could just drink enough to not be a heavy weight and be at the perfect level of tipsy where you can feel the buzz. This is the point where you had to go out to the dance floor because of how free it made you feel, not a single care or worry in the world. That was until you felt someone tapping on your shoulder. You turned around to see a guy, a random one you have never seen before around KISS. You could admit he was a bit attractive but not as attractive as Min Ho. 
Looking up at the stranger you let out a forced smile, “Hi?” you spoke, but sounded more like a question
“Couldn’t help but notice a pretty girl dancing all by herself, you looking for someone to dance with?” the guy asked as he tried to put his hand on your waist. 
You backed away before you suddenly felt someone behind you put their hand around your waist, “Baby I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” a boy spoke with an accent you could recognize anywhere. Looking up, you let out a soft genuine smile at the sight of your best friend. 
Min Ho cleared his throat and saw the guy was still there, “Hey man I don’t know if you noticed but she’s my girl, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t hit on her,” 
The guy furrowed his brows at Min Ho before quickly realizing who he was, “Oh shit sorry man I didn’t know,” he quickly muttered out
“You’re lucky I didn’t have you kicked out. Now leave us alone, yeah?” Min Ho replied, shooing the other guy away. 
Once the guy was gone, Min Ho held onto your hand and led you to a more secluded area away from the party. He looked at you and caressed your cheek, “You okay Y/N?” he spoke softly
You looked up at your best friend and took in the way he looked at you. The way he looked at you made you feel so delicate, like you were the only person that mattered to him. You broke out of your daze and just nodded at him, “Thank you Min, I think it’s time for me to head out now though,” You spoke
Min Ho frowned, but it looked more like a pout to you, “But I just found you,” he spoke, “and we didn’t even get to dance yet,” 
You took his hand that was on your cheek and held it, “I know, I’m sorry I’m just not in the mood for it anymore,” you replied softly 
After hearing your response, it was like something in Min Ho clicked, causing him to hold your hand again, “Okay, let’s go then,” he spoke like it was no big deal
“Let’s go? What do you mean? Like you’re gonna just ditch your party?” You asked in disbelief
He nodded, “Uh yeah duh? Why would I stay at a party that my best friend doesn’t even want to be at?” 
There was that word again, it just keeps dangling over you and taunting you everytime you think you guys could be something more than just friends. Hearing his response just made you let out a small smile. Him pretending to be your boyfriend just lets you have a glimpse of what you weren’t but what you could be, truly it does break your heart but what can you really do about it.  After that night, he just dropped you off back at your dorms, you didn’t even have the energy to invite him in like how you guys usually do. It did feel awkward just leaving him but you needed this. Your heart needed it. 
You did feel bad for ghosting everyone. It had been a week since the party and you needed to shut down and take time for yourself to really think about what you wanted to do about your feelings for Min Ho. After being by yourself for a week and doing your work online, you felt like you really did learn a lot about yourself, and that in order to get over your feelings for your best friend, you had to accept that you had those feelings in the first place. 
During this week of you ghosting everyone, you weren’t the only one in question about their emotions. Min Ho to say the least has been snappier than ever to everyone. Most times, whenever you were around he would be at his nicest, you were someone who humbled him and brought him back to Earth but without you? He truly was something and someone you did not want to cross. The boy is a mess, he doesn’t know how long ago you guys haven’t talked for this long. Even if it was just a week, it felt like years. One thing Min Ho will do for you but never admit or do for anyone else is giving you space.
If he’s being honest with himself, he tried so incredibly hard not to fall for you or do anything that can potentially jeopardize his relationship with you but the moment he saw you at his party looking the way you did dancing on the dance floor, he knew he was done for. That’s why the whole week he has been so upset with himself for doing what he did that night, for calling you baby, for pretending to be your boyfriend, all of it, because now you weren’t even talking to him. It wasn’t until you texted him asking if he could come over where he finally felt the feeling of anxiousness leave his body.
Min Ho was standing at your door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, debating on when to knock. That was until you beat him to it and just opened the door after hearing his shuffling from behind the door. Genuinely you were surprised, you didn't expect him to show up so fast, and with your favorite flowers too?
"Hi Min," you spoke with a smile before opening your door to let him in, "Come in please, you've been here countless of times so don't get shy on me now,"
He chuckled, taking off his shoes before stepping into your dorm, placing them among your other shoes and then following you to your room. Before sitting down, he handed you the flowers, "Here Y/N, I got you your favorites,"
"What's the occasion Min?" you asked taking the flowers and admiring them before placing them on your lap
"I just missed you that's all," he replied before sitting down next to you
You cleared your throat and started fiddling with your hands, "Min Ho I've been meaning to talk to you about this for a while," you spoke, "But if I'm honest I want to say I'm sorry for ghosting you for a week, I just needed time to figure out what I was feeling,"
Min Ho grabbed onto your hands and held them, preventing you from fiddling with your hands and causing you to look up at him, "It's okay Y/N, you know I would give you all the time in the world," he replied
Staring into his eyes, you knew you had to say it now or else you would never want to say it, "Min Ho, I'm in love with you," you said feeling so much lighter with that confession alone, "I think I always have been, but I wanted to be sure of it before I told you. I don't know when it exactly happened, but at one point the lines between being my best friend and wanting something more with you started to blur. So please tell me now if I'm just overthinking this whole thing and maybe I'm the only one who feels this way but-" you spoke before Min Ho leaned in to kiss you.
Your eyes widened in shock for a second before you closed your eyes finally kissing him back, melting into his touch and putting your hand onto his chest. If you could describe what the best thing that has happened to you, it would be this moment alone. The way your lips moved together in perfect synchronization, like you were both made for each other. Truly it could not compare to anything you've ever felt before.
Once you both pulled away, your forehead rested against Min Ho's, "You drive me crazy Y/N, I never even thought I had a chance with you but I'm so thankful all of our past romances led me here to you," he spoke
You smiled at his response, "So does that mean you love me too?"
"I love you more than words can describe, I mean I can show you in actions too?" He replied with a smirk
"Min Ho!" you gasped, playfully hitting his shoulder
He laughed at your reaction, "I'm kidding! I mean unless you were serious?"
You rolled your eyes playfully at the boy you were thankful to be in love with. At least this time you were sure this would be real.
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oval3000 · 5 months
Text
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Chapter 5
Yandere Teacher Nanami x Student Reader
Warning: Abuse, (force) smut. Abduction, violence, rough play, toxic behavior, age gap, everything from all above. Mainly from his point of view...somewhat... modern au- ish idk. College teacher x student.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 6
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"Mr. Nanami?" A man in a suit knocked on his classroom door. Nanami was grading some paperwork before his next class. He turned to the side and saw the man alongside some police officers." I hope we're not interrupting you? I'm detective Aki, this is officer Yamada and officer Fujikawa. We want to ask questions about one of your students, (Y/N)."
"Sir." Nanami stood as the man and two police officers entered, closing the door. Nanami knew this day would come. How could he not know? "Of course. Miss (Y/n) hasn't attended my classes for the past month.
"That's why we're here. Her friend had filed a missing person's report on her and we just want to know if you may know anything regarding her disappearance." The detective said.
"The last time I saw her, was when she was sitting on one of the campus benches. I asked her if everything was alright and she told me she was waiting for her ride." He explained. " She seemed a little down and mentioned something about an ex-boyfriend. I've dealt with many of my students who were dealing with hard breakups so I didn't think too much of it."
"Ex-boyfriend?" The detective said.
"Yes. I don't know his name it was never said, but she did mention an ex-boyfriend and by the look of it, it's not something she seemed happy about." Nanami looked at the detective as he jotted down what he was saying.
"Was she acting strange while attending your classes before her disappearance? Did she seem a little down?" Aki asked.
"No. She was a normal student. In fact, she was my best student. Although she had trouble with one assignment, she would stay after her classes for help. Other than that, she was fine. However, I am a teacher with many students, so I might've not pay too much attention to her because of the others, who might be in the same position as her. College is college. Nothing changes." Nanami fixed his glasses and sighed. "Her family must be worried sick if she hasn't shown up." Nanami asked, almost looking a bit sad.
Aki raised his eyebrow. "Have you noticed her disappearance?"
"I did at first. She never missed a class ever. Then again. I have many students who don't bother showing up for months."
"Why is that?" He asked.
"They want to give up. Math is too hard. Struggling with mental illness. I've been working here for ten years, I've seen at all." Nanami sighed, looking down at his papers. "Sadly, no matter what I do, I can't always fix their problems when it's out of my reach. I should've asked Miss. (Y/N), about what was bothering her that day. That was my mistake."
Aki looked at Nanami, who still kept a normal composer. "So her disappearance wasn't too strange for you?"
"Like I said, at first it did. Then again, it's not the first time a student stopped showing up here. I guess I was wrong about that." Nanami raised his eyebrows. "Has anyone seen her since then?" He asked so concerned.
"No, we're working on a timeline on who might've. So far, you're the last person who has seen her. However, no one mentioned an ex-boyfriend before." Aki tapped his little notepad with his pen.
"Oh. it makes sense now." Nanami scratched his head.
"What makes sense?" Aki questioned.
"When she mentioned the ex-boyfriend, it went like this." He hummed, " 'My ex-boyfriend is a jerk who only thinks about himself. We were hardly boyfriend and girlfriend since we dated for three months.' It was confusing to me. I don't know what these young adults think now about relationships; now there is a thing called situationship' or whatever it's called. Every day, I hear students talk about their 'situationship'—are they boyfriend and girlfriend? I don't know what kids are up to these days." He explained. "I was puzzled because, aren't boyfriend and girlfriend, boyfriend and girlfriend? Now, I realize, it must've been one of those situations where you're just with a guy, just cause, with no title. Now it makes sense why it's called situationship'. Either way, it can still break someone's heart. Maybe that's why no one mentioned him; it didn't seem like what they saw was a relationship. Nonetheless, for Miss (Y/n), it must've been more than that, but it was overlooked."
"Did she mention anything about this ex-boyfriend or lover she had?" The detective asked, jotting down as much information as he got.
"No. She was on her phone during the little conversation we had so it was cut short. I swear those kids are always on their phones like they're addicted to them." Nanami picked up his papers and hit them on the desk countertop to straighten them in place. He checked his watch and saw the time. "My next class is about to start. Is there anything I can help with?"
The detective closed his notepad, "No that'll be all for today. Thank you, Mr. Nanami." He shook his hand and headed his way out alongside the two officers.
"Oh! Please tell (Y/N)'s family my condolences. She's one of my students here. Hope she's found soon." Nanami said.
The detective gave him a sympathetic smile, "Sadly, her parents died recently, in a car accident. I'll tell her friend though, she's worried sick about her."
Nanami went back to teaching his class. He went on to be a normal regular teacher. He saw the detective and two officers roaming around, talking to other students and teachers. He kept his usual face and went on with his day. He would hear his colleagues about you, how they're saddened that you just vanished.
Some came up and spoke to Nanami since you were in his class, and he gave them the same type of response he gave to Detective Aki. When he got into his car, he drove off.
He went on to run some errands really quickly and got some snacks and a beverage. He went and decided to stop by a public library and started to use the public computers and continued to do some paperwork and make new homework and test assignments.
He looked at the time got up from his chair, logged off, and walked away from the library building. He got back in his car and drove off to a food place.
He ordered a meal for himself and ate in his car while grading more of his paperwork. When the sun was completely gone, he went to a copy, and fax machine place that was open 24 hours and started to make multiple copies before heading his way home near midnight.
He did this routine for 3 weeks. 3 whole weeks. 3 torture weeks for him.
The day he saw a man getting arrested on the college campus with Detective Aki and the two officers, his 3 whole weeks ended.
He got out of work, he went on to the library, and used the computer for some time. He went to an electronic store and bought himself a new computer. He got into his car and drove home.
He opened the door that was inside the garage and placed the store bag on the kitchen counter.
He walked upstairs and opened the bedroom door. "Sorry, I'm late. Work has been chaotic." He stared at you with your eyes glossy and the rag on your mouth. Your hands were still tied up to the headboard. He went towards and touched the rag and pulled it out. " Sorry about this, sweetheart. It was just a precaution. On the good news, they arrested that ex-boyfriend of yours. It wasn't good for him when they saw all the texts he had 'sent' you. Too bad they found your phone on his property."
"P-please...don't hurt me...Please don't hurt me." You cried to him.
He grabbed your cheeks with his hand, "Who's your best friend?" When you didn't answer him, he grabbed onto you harder, "Answer me!"
"E-Emi." You told him.
"Well, that Emi bitch made those 3 weeks a living fucking hell for me and I'm not too happy about that, sweetheart." He sighed and let you go. "At first I thought your family was gonna be in my way, but it turns out is Emi. Tell me, what should I do?"
You shook your head.
"You're right. It'll be too suspicious." He got on the bed and laid next to you. "I'm just happy to be with you." He slid his hand down to your body and stopped once it reached your stomach. "It must've been lonely here for you. Tell me something else, do you want some company while I'm gone?"
You felt your body shiver with his touch and talk. "N-no."
"No? You're fine here without me? Because if you ever feel alone, I can change that." He rubbed your stomach.
"I'm fine. I-I'm okay." You pulled your knees up to your chest feeling chills going through your body.
"I love you, I hope you know that." He said, smiling at you. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your body. "I'm doing this all for you."
He kissed your cheek, "This is all for love."
SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Sorry for the long wait! R.I.P to Nanami 😩)
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justlemmeadoreyou · 6 months
Text
a misfortune | (mechanic!harry part 1)
Okay, so here is my version of the grumpy!harry x sunshine!yn trope. I had midterms so this got a bit late! Sorry! I don't rhink you waited for my shitty writing, but here it is (forcefully)
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Summary: Harry is a grumpy asshole, but he is also a mechanic that you are in desperate need of. Sunshine!reader x Grumpy! harry trope
Word Count: ~2k
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8 hours.
That's how long you've been in the backseat of your car, and chewing on your already swollen nails. All your belongings, from clothes to your oversized makeup bag, toiletries, blankets, bedsheets, and even your electronic gadgets, are crammed beside you on the backseat. Your life has spiraled into chaos because your landlord has kicked you out.
Tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you recall the moments that have led you to this bleak situation. It isn't fair, which is something you think. That isn't true though. You haven't paid your proper rent in nearly six months, frequently stumbling home at obnoxious hours, blasting loud music when you were drunk and high, and you hadn't even bothered to check the 15-day eviction notice that arrived almost 20 days ago. So, yes, your landlord had every right to kick you out.
You were irresponsible, reckless, and didn't give two cares until you became homeless. With your car serving as an unwelcome shelter, you realize you should have been more responsible. You should have cared more about your living situation before it all came crashing down on you. If only you had taken your life more seriously, you wouldn't be stuck in your car on this cold, lonely night.
It was the beginning of November, and you had so many plans about decorating your small apartment. You had fetched out the Christmas lights too, planning on hanging them out the following weekend. The memory of those festive plans, the warmth of the holiday spirit, now feels like a distant dream.
You wipe away your tears, but they keep flowing. You shift some of your stuff down on the floor of the car to make some space to sleep in. You curl up into yourself in the small space, and after a few more tears, you're finally asleep.
You're woken by harsh knocks on your window. You try to open your eyes, but the sunlight pouring in through the window is so blinding that you have to squint and shield your face with your hand.
It's a man, who looks angry at you. You roll down the window a bit so you can hear what he's saying.
“Could you move your car out of here, please?”
You rub your eyes and finally get a look at your surroundings, and you see that you've basically parked at the entrance of a house.
“Yeah-yeah. I will. Sorry,” you grunt with a raspy voice, and he goes back inside.
You quickly fix your clothes and your hair, and grabbed the car keys from your pocket. Opening the door, you got out of the backseat and got back out front.
Pushing the key in, you turned it, but the engine didn’t start. You tried it again and again, biut all in vain.
Great.
Just fucking great.
Now even your car had given up on you.
You felt like crying all over again, this was all so heartbreaking. You had to get the car checked almost two months ago, when the check engine light had started to blink first.
You pulled out your phone and searched for a nearby garage. Hopefully, there was one that was 2 blocks away. But that meant you wouyld have to push your car two blocks.
You could also call a tow service, but that would take money, and money was something you were running short on.
With a loud sigh, you switched the handbrake on, and got out of the car.
Rolling up your sleeves, you started to push it. The car was so heavy, and you managed a good 200 meters, before you were sweating profusely, and almost gave up, putting your hands on your knees and breathing loudly.
A kind man offered to help, and thank lord he did. With lots of struggle and a good 15 minutes, you were finally able to reach the garage.
Quick Fix Auto
You read the garage name, before lockiong your car and walking in. It was still 8 pm, so you doubted getting any help at this hour.
“Hello?”
You called out tentatively as you entered the garage and walked further into the shop, past the cars and vehicles scattered out front. Hopefully, a second voice would call you back, or you would have had to wait for someone to come in.
“Yeah, I’m a bit busy. Be out in a minute,” the voice replied. It sounded British and thickly laced with an accent. You couldn't help but think that now a gorgeous British guy would see your horrible car, which was also your home, all wrecked up and messed up due to negligence. Bonus points to you for not even washing your face after waking up.
You briefly contemplated running away and finding another garage with an old mechanic. However, you realized you physically wouldn't have been able to do that. So, you took a deep breath, preparing to face the embarrassment and potential humiliation.
After a few moments, he came out, and boy, was he gorgeous. A white headband held his thick hair back, and below that was a beautifully shaped face with green eyes. His tan hands were covered in a bit of grease, and he had tools hanging from his upturned waistband.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, and you gulped hard, snapping back to reality from admiring his physique. Boy, was he pretty.
“Oh, um... I tried to start my car this morning, but it won’t start.”
“And what’s the issue? The battery is out, fuel is down?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I came here.”
“Jeez, your breath smells terrible. Alright, let me have a look at it. Keys?”
He extended his hand to take your keys while looking into your eyes. You squinted at him for his rude remark, then handed him the keys.
“You don’t have to be so rude, you know.”
He kept walking, ignoring your comment. As he reached your car, he stopped in his tracks when he saw your belongings inside it. He turned back to look at you, and you frowned. Eye bags, dark circles under your eyes, a sad face, and you hadn't even washed your face; you had to rush to get your car fixed. You were in bad shape.
He decided to draw a line and not throw questions at you. He opened your car and took a look inside, noticing that the check engine light was on.
“How long has this been on for?”
“Oh, that. Yeah, about... 2 months?”
He slumped his shoulders and came back out, walking to yhe front and opening the hood of the car. As soon as it went up, a big cloud of smoke escaped.
“Fuck. What did you do?”
He coughed a bit, taking a step back to let the smoke dissipate. You felt even more humiliated than before, but he seemed more focused on the issue with your car than making further remarks about your condition.
“Alright. So, this is not going to get fixed in a short while. It’s going to take atlest 2 days.”
“No! Where will I live?”
You exclaimed loudly, and his eyes widened.
You could book a hotel?”
“I don’t have money.”
“A motel?”
“How will I reach one? Most of them are out of town.”
“Right, so you could still sleep in it at night, but I lock the garage at 11. So, you will have to park it outside.”
She nodded her head, and he still felt bad for her.
“I’m Harry, by the way”
He extended the same grease-stained hand again, and she complied, shaking hands with him.
"I'm Yn." she said.
"There’s a bathroom at the back. You can clean up there if you want to. My staff comes in at 9, so you still have about half an hour."
She smiled at his kind offer. He might be rude and grumpy, but he wasn't a bad person.
"Thank you, Harry. I really appreciate it."
"Oh that's okay. But, you do have money to pay for your car, right?"
You did a quick calculation in your mind, and quickly came to the conclusion that you didn't have even that money.
"No, but- listen to me! My payday is here, so I'm gonna get paid soon. I have to buy few supplies first, and then I promise I will pay you as soon as possible. I'll borrow money from my friends."
"As long as I get paid, I don't care where you get the money from."
And the grumpiness was back.
"Okay! Can I go in?"
"Sure. Be my guest."
You got some stuff from the car and went inside the garage. walking all the way to the back, and finding the washroom. You locked the door and cleaned yourself up.
Meanwhile, Harry took a look at your car.
It was in a bad condition. it hadn't been serviced in over two years, and the engine oil hadn't been replaced in so long. The battery was old too. A lot of work had to be done. and he had no idea how he would manage when you literally lived in the car.
Meanwhile, you were happy to have gotten a place to brush and bathe. Initially, you thought you would have to go to a cafe or restaurant, and brushing and bathing there would’ve been embarrassing. Even though embarrassment and humiliation were your best friends now.
You walked out in clean clothes a while later. and saw your car standing at the same place, with no sign of Harry. You searched for him again, and found him at the back, working on the same car he had been in when you had arrived.
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Why aren't you working on my car?"
He slid out from the bottom of the car, before replying, "I have other jobs too. First come, first serve. Plus, this one paid me in advance."
You frowned and flared at his words, and decided to deal with him later.
"So, can I take it, then? I have to go to work."
"No, I will work on it in the afternoon."
"Then how the hell am I supposed to reach work?"
"Many options, by foot, take the bus, order an Uber, Oh! Sorry! I forgot you didn't have money."
He mocked you once again, and this time, you seriously wanted to punch him across the face. Maybe you would, once your car was done. But right now, you have priorities.
"Alright, fine. But my stuff is in the car."
"Chill. Nobody's gonna take it. They might give things to you, though."
You rolled your eyes again, and went back to your car. Why did he have to be such a dick?
Gathering your bag, you stuffed your valuables, leaving only clothes and heavy articles behind. You shifted it to one corner, and draped a huge sheet to cover it.
"Okay, I'm leaving."
And once again, that grumpy asshole ignored you.
(next part)
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divider by @firefly-graphics
okay, sorry if this sucked, i really don't know how to write l literally finished this at 2am, so really really sorry
taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @whoreonmondays @avalentina
let me know if you want to be added or removed!
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helen-with-an-a · 1 month
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The Object that stood in the way of a World Cup pt. 3
Hi. So here is part 3 (again, this will have another part because I am determined to get it happy at the end; it's just taking me a while to get there ahahah). Big thanks to @lyak12 for helping me work out my issues with the fic <3
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Epilogue
Ona Batlle x Reader
Flashbacks are in italics
TW: Injury, R ain't ok mentally, suggestiveness
Description: R comes home from Australia to start her recovery
Word Count: 3.6k
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You had required three surgeries in total to fix everything – an emergency one to save your leg, one to place the screws and realign everything and one to reattach the ligaments in your knee. The damage the tackle had done was extensive; your shin was splintered into 3, some coming through the skin, and the force of the collision ruptured your ACL and meniscus ligament, too. No one dared show you the video, and you weren’t bothered to look it up. Even though you couldn’t remember what happened, you’d have the scars for life. You had asked what the timeline was for when you could get back on the pitch. One doctor had said it was an if not a when. You didn’t like that doctor. It would be a when – football was your lifeline, your escape when times were tough. You didn’t know how you would cope with it. Your physios at Barca had said that when … if … you were back on the pitch, your playing style would have to change. They had told you in broken English that you probably would never play the same and would have to rely on speed and technical ability rather than strength in matches. But that was ok; as long as you were on the pitch, you didn’t care how you had to play, just so long as you could.
You flew back to Barcelona a month after the World Cup. You wanted to be back earlier, but you hadn’t been cleared to fly and definitely hadn’t been cleared to fly halfway across the world. The medical staff in Australia were lovely – sneaking you extra desserts, cheering every milestone, no matter how small, braiding your hair, and helping apply your moisturiser when you were too tired to do it yourself. Your family had only seen you that first day. You didn’t mind – you didn’t particularly like when they were around anyway. It was always too loud with them. The bad kind of loud. The Lionesses were the good kind of loud. They had piled into your room, staying as long as possible. Georgia had left you with her Tamagotchi, making you promise her you’d try to keep it alive. Being suitably distracted by the mountain of sugary sweets piled on your bed by Hempo, much to the horror of Leah and Sarina, you missed the way Lucy eyed you wearily.
You considered Lucy a big sister, especially since moving to Barcelona. She had been concerned about you since you arrived. The happy, bubbly young woman she had come to care for deeply had retreated back into the quiet shell you had been when you first joined the senior squad. At first, she thought you were just nervous – she knew how scary it could be to be in a new city without many friends. But after a while, she knew it was something more sinister. She barely saw you outside of football; you were always making excuses to avoid team bonding or insisting you needed to stay late to work on things. Things you already excelled at. She grasped just how badly something was wrong with the first international camp of the new year. She thought you would return back to your old ways, finally being around your old friends and not having to navigate another language. But that wasn’t the case; if anything, you grew even quieter – especially around Alessia and Ella. That concerned her the most – you were closer than family to those two. They could always be relied on to drag a smile out of you. So, she kept an eye on you. Quietly observing your behaviour.
Whilst you hated that you weren’t back in Barcelona as quickly as you wanted to be, you were glad you didn’t have to see Ona again so quickly. That night was the last time you had seen her. You hadn’t said anything as she took a seat across from you. She hadn’t said anything as you started to drift into an uncomfortable slumber. Only when she was sure you were in a deep sleep did she break her silence.
“Mai podré dir-te com ho sento,” she whispered. “Sempre t'estimaré. Espero que algun dia em permetis estimar-te de la manera que et mereixes.”
“Oni, I can’t speak Catalan, remember? You’re going to have to repeat that in English.” You laughed as she chattered away. It was an off-day and oddly warm in Manchester. You lay with your head in her lap, top tucked up into your bra, exposing as much skin as possible in an effort to soak up the summer sun.
“Sorry, amor. I’m just happy it’s finally warm here. It reminds me of home a little bit.” She carded her fingers through your hair as you snuggled your face into her stomach.
“Tell me about it?” You asked gently. You loved hearing the stories of her home, her childhood, her life back in Spain.
“There’s this little cafetería back home. It sells the best Crema Catalana ever. I don’t know what they do, but, mmmm ... es tan delicioso. It’s even better than my Mamí’s. It’s so pretty too. It’s got this really cool tiled pattern flooring and vines on the wall at the front. During the summer, they open all the doors and play music and …” You could listen to Ona talk all day; the excitement when she mentions her home is unparalleled. You could feel yourself drifting into sleep – the warm weather, her gentle fingers scratching at your scalp, her intoxicating smell that wrapped around you like a soft hug.
“Mmmm,” you hummed happily. "It sounds fantastic. I wish I could visit,” you commented.
“You shall. I’ll take you. You’ll come to see my home, we’ll do all the touristy things in Barcelona, and then I’ll show you all the local spots in Vilassar de Mar, prometo,” She vowed.
“Good. I …” you cut yourself off with a yawn, “I don’t want to see Barcelona without you.” Your eyes fluttered gently.
“You won’t. I won’t let you. You’re stuck with me for life, amor.” You smiled softly at her words. You liked the sound of being with Ona for life. “Ve a dormir, amor. I’ll be here when you wake up.” You nodded and allowed yourself to slip into a gentle dream.
Arriving home, it was easier to avoid Ona than you thought. You were still on strict instructions to rest. Alexia had tried to force you to stay with her. When that failed, Lucy had tried. You liked your space. You liked your private time. You felt like you could never fully relax around people … except for around Ona - that voice in your head reminded you. No! You couldn’t allow that voice to win. You had a recovery to think of now. You had compromised a little bit, though. You lived in the same building as Ingrid and Mapi, so you gave them permission to get a spare key cut. This allowed you to have people constantly checking on you without feeling like a burden on them. Alexia wanted a key for herself, but she lived on the other side of town, and you didn’t like dragging her so far from her usual daily routine.
To be honest, you were unsure if you wanted to see Ona. Alessia had quietly told you that you wouldn’t calm down on the pitch until Ona held you. In the extra month you were in Australia, you had come to terms with the fact you were still in love with her. You had tried to deny it when you initially came to Spain. But now it was just a fact you had to live with. That night in the hospital was so incredibly awkward … strange … nice. She had stood in a training top you were fairly sure was yours once upon a time, head hung low as she picked at her nails. You wanted to bat her hands away, to tell her to stop, but she had sat too far and out of your reach.
“I’m telling you, Y/N, something’s wrong with Ona”, Hayley whispered to you in the bathroom. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but she won’t stop picking at her nails; she’s really quiet. Something’s not right. I think something may have happened during the break.” You sighed deeply. You also think something may have occurred whilst she was in Spain. You had picked her up from Manchester Airport, and you could tell instantly something wasn’t right. 3 of her fingers were wrapped in plasters, and the others looked just as sore. When you extended your arms out to hug her, she looked a little apprehensive but stepped into your embrace anyway. No matter how much you wanted to keep her in your arms, you stepped away after a few short seconds. You had never seen her so tired, so different, so … you weren’t quite sure what had happened. You kissed her forehead gently as you ushered her to the car.
It didn’t take long for you to find Ona – she was sitting in your cubby after all. Despite your concern, your heart couldn’t help but flutter as you recognised your number on the hoodie she was wearing.
“Me gustas en mi ropa,” You said as you crouched in front of her, hands resting gently on her knee. She didn’t smirk like she usually would. She didn’t react when you started tracing gentle shapes on her bare legs. She just kept picking at her nails. “Oni… lo que le pasó?” You asked in the gentlest tone imaginable. She just shook her head, wiping a stray tear away. “No … hey, hey, hey, no. Oni. Mi niña hermosa. Don’t cry.” You surged forward. “Please don’t cry.” You didn’t know how to comfort her. You had seen her angry, you had seen her scared, you had seen her frustrated. But you had never seen her cry before.
You had eventually coaxed her into going home. You had waited until everyone had left—Hayley hurrying people along to let you deal with the situation. The force with which she gripped your hand left a sour taste in your mouth. You had kept your hand in hers the whole journey home and into your flat. You led her to the sofa as you lay down, pulling her on top of you.
“Now …” You started, “I’m not going to make you talk to me. But I can tell something happened when you were in Spain. I want you to tell me, but I’m not going to force you. Whatever you want to share that’s entirely up to you. But please, Oni … I’m not going to judge you, or laugh at you, or hurt you for telling me anything. Un problema compartido es un problema dividido, right?” You whispered as your fingers slipped under her jumper.
It took a while, but eventually, she told you. You held her as she cried over the conditions in the Spanish camp. You held her as she recounted the story of her being forced from her bed at 5 in the morning for a run and not being allowed to stop until she threw up or passed out. You held her as she ranted about how mean the coaching staff were to Pina, and when she had stepped in to intervene, she had it twice as bad. You held her as she eventually slipped into a fitful reprieve from the nightmare she had just returned from.
But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake Ona’s voice from your head telling you, you weren’t could enough for Barca. If she thought that before your injury, what would she think about you now? You were looking at a year off the pitch, at least, let alone having to train in a new style and learn a new way of playing that could have you set back even further. It echoed in your mind before behind, when you looked at yourself in the mirror, when you were with the team as they tried to help you feel better.
Most days looked similar for you in the first month you returned. You were still in a cast and brace, so you couldn’t do much. The doctors - and Alexia - had told you how important it was to establish and stick to a routine. So, you did. You woke up at 8.30 every morning. There was training – you obviously couldn’t go, but since all your friends had that schedule to stick to, so did you. You would go into the bathroom and have a really awkward shower; more often than not, you would flood the bathroom, then get ready for the day. Lucy told you that you needed to change out of your pyjamas every day, so you slipped on loose shorts and a shirt – your ‘day pyjamas’ you had christened. You had breakfast with Ingrid and Mapi before they left for training, and then you sat on the couch. All day. With your mind slowly descending into chaos over everything that had happened. And then you would hear the conversations from outside that told you some of the girls were coming round to see you, and you plastered a smile on your face as you asked them about their day, and they would ask you about yours. On non-training days, you granted yourself a lie-in. Keira and Lucy would come by with pastries from the bakery down the round and fresh fruit for you to snack on. You would sometimes have a Lioness Facetime if everyone’s schedules allowed.
You had yet to go to a match or the training facility, watch a game on TV, or even just play Fifa. But that would come with time; you would have to go eventually because that was where the physios and trainers were. People thought you were reluctant to go because of what had happened. Which you were … a little bit. The main reason that made you nervous about going was Ona. A picture of her on your timeline had sent you into a spiral for a good few hours. You were scared of what seeing her in person would do.
You had seen the picture of her in the Champions League promotion. And she looked so good. You had stared for far too long at her beautiful smile that still took your breath away, her chiselled jawline that you used to pepper kisses across when you cuddled up against her, her veiny arms that had made you feel so safe and loved, her messy bun that you had jokingly begged her to teach you how to do, her freckled cheeks that would sport a soft pink hue every time you complimented her, the dimples you would poke at when she was trying to be angry at you but failing miserably.
“Great game today girls, you played fantastically. And well done to Ona.” You were standing next to her in the post-match huddle, she shyly groaned as her achievements were recognised in front of everyone.
“Mi Oni’s got her name on the score sheet,” You sang out as you walked back down the tunnel, arms wrapping around her waist. “We need to celebrate.” A round of cheers from everyone echoed the sentiment. Just as you were about to separate to go shower, you felt Ona squeeze you gently. “Hm?” You asked, scanning her features for discomfort.
“Could we do something … just us tonight?” As much as she loved the girls, she wanted a night with you. Alone. She looked so adorable as she quietly mumbled her desires to you.
“Absolutely we can,” your smile reassured her. You pressed your hands against her cheeks quickly before turning to head to the showers.
You didn’t even bother with an excuse when you messaged Lessi and Tooney.
Y/N: Sorry not coming tonight - other plans x
Tooney: Rude
Tooney: Do these other plans involve a Spanish defender???
Y/N: Maybe x
Y/N: She wanted to do something just us
Lessi: I want details! x
Y/N: Nothing’s going to happen
Y/N: U know we r just friends
Tooney: And I’m just friends with Joe :p
Y/N: Its just a MOVIE NIGHT x
Lessi: If u say so x
Tooney: stay safe x
Y/N: ffs and I do say so.
Y/N: text me when ur both home pls x
Lessi: Will do x
Your other plans involved very little deviation from your regular nights. She had cooked for you like always, serving up a delicious paella that had you begging her for cooking lessons. Over dinner, you relived her goal from your perspective and forced her to tell you what she was thinking when she sent it into the back of the net.
“Now that you’ve started scoring, you won’t stop. I’m telling you.” She had laughed at your promise. “I’m being serious here. We need to come up with a celebration for you.” She just hummed and kissed the top of your head as she gathered the plates and took them to the sink.
Later, you were lying on the sofa watching a Spanish movie she insisted on, telling you how it was a part of her childhood and she needed to share it with you. You weren’t paying any attention. You were far too distracted by her fingers running up your spine. It was driving you mad in the best way possible. Your ear was pressed against her chest, her heartbeat comforting and peaceful as you burrowed yourself deeper into her.
“Estás bien?” Ona asked, your movements catching her attention.
“Yeah.” You responded. “I’m really proud of you, you know that, right?” You shifted again, this time drawing yourself up to cage her in with your arms. The blush reappeared on her cheeks as you stared intently at her. God, she was so beautiful. “And I’m really happy you came to Manchester. You make everything better.” You told her honestly. She was getting overwhelmed. You could see that as she avoided your gaze. You gently poked the place where a dimple appeared when she smiled. “Oni …” you waited until she looked back at you. “Puedo besarte?” You said as you stared at her lips.
“Sí.” This wasn’t your first kiss, drunk or sober. But this time felt different. You couldn’t explain it. Her soft lips parted as you licked the seam of her mouth.
You continued to make out lazily on the sofa before Ona broke away for some much-needed air. You didn’t care, though. Your lips just moved to her neck – you were careful not to leave any marks, no matter how much you wanted to decorate the pale skin with dark splotches that claimed her as yours. She whimpered and whined underneath you until she was begging for more.
“Por favour. Do something. Anything. Necesito más,” she implored, hands tangling in your hair as you pulled away.
“Relajarse. Let me take care of you.” You sighed into her skin.
You're just a quick fuck. Easy. Nothing more to me. Her wicked words bounced around in your head. God, she had really ruined you. That was the first night you allowed yourself to truly feel everything, every emotion you had suppressed and bottled up for the last 9 months. It was painful. Raw. Terrifying.
At first, you were angry — so, so angry. Pure, unadulterated rage bubbled up and over the top of your carefully constructed walls. You threw a vase. It shattered into pieces like your heart had done all those months ago. It was satisfying, but you wanted more. You needed more. You ripped apart a cushion someone gave you as a housewarming present. You screamed and raged and shouted your emotions.
Then you cried. It started as a few lone drops that quickly became a torrent of unstoppable, hot tears. The sobbing hurt. It was painful and gut-wrenching. You had never cried like this before, and that scared you. These were the tears of someone heartbroken, and desperate. You cried so hard you thought you were about to throw up.
When you came to your senses, you were standing in the middle of the living room – how you got there was beyond you – feathers lightly floating around you, the wall had a slight dent, and someone was knocking frantically on your door. You didn’t move. If it was Ingrid or Mapi, they had a key. If it was Lucy or Alexia, they knew where to find the spare set. If it was anyone else, you didn’t want to see them.
Strong yet gentle arms pulled you to a warm body. The scent that engulfed you was soft and sweet. Alexia.
“Está bien, cariño. Let’s get you to bed, sí?” She was too gentle. Alexia didn’t do this kind of comfort. She offered practical solutions, honesty, and tough love.
“I… I’m scared,” You admitted as she helped you twist into bed.
“I know recovery can be scary, pequeña, but you will do it. It will be hard. But you can do it. Te lo prometo, puedes hacerlo. Everyone is going to help you. You can lean on us. We're here for you, bebita.” She was misunderstanding what you were referencing. You weren’t scared of recovery. You were physically healing well. A physio had been sent to your house from Barcelona to assess you at home to see whether you could start your rehabilitation at the club. She had asked you questions, and you had given the right answers. Your scars were healing well, and you had the expected range of motion for your injuries. Physically, you were right on track.
You were scared of your own mind. In the month you had been home alone, you had thought hard about anything. Ona had really broken you, yet you couldn’t let her go. What did that say about you? You had always thought you were stronger than that. You used to never understand what it was like when people would go back to an ex-partner who had broken their heart. Ona was never even officially yours, and she had managed to do so much damage.
This is becoming a lot more intense than I had planned ahahah. Hopefully, the next part will be out soon.
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urfavlarry · 2 months
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Hi, I love your Husk work as an overlord. Could I please request a husker x reader when he lost the game to Alastor. Short time after Reader becomes the Cashio Overlord that runs on the cashios that once owned by Husker. One day, the reader came by to see Husk at the hotel. Please and thank you
A/N: im not sure if i understood this well but i hope i wrote it well enough for you to enjoy! also sorry it took so long for me to write i was a bit busy but here it is<33 (and also reader doesn’t know about Husk at first :3 )
warnings: swearing,alcohol,bad grammar,mentions of death and bl00d
genre: angst??? and some fluff
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——————————Flashback ——————————
You walk to your local bar, you and some guy you met online through a dating app were supposed to meet up there and get to know each other more. You liked the guy, he was nice and showed genuine interest in you, something guys didn’t really do that often. You put effort in dressing up today, wearing your best pair of clothes you had and fixing up your hair and just make yourself over all look presentable. “This guy better not ditch me.” You tell yourself as you look at the time; 7:02pm. You were supposed to meet up at 7 and he was late. “Not the best first impression.” You sigh when you suddenly hear someone yelling your name.
“Y/N! Hey it’s me the guy you have been talking to for the past few months? I’m so sorry I was stuck in traffic and I would’ve called but I just didn’t really think about it in that moment.” He says rubbing his neck nervously and smiles awkwardly. You smile at him and chuckle; “Don’t worry about it! Now let’s go have some fun!” You say excitedly and pull him to the bar.
The bar was fairly crowded, something you were expecting since it’s a pretty popular one at that. You order some drinks and take a seat in the corner of a bar. It was loud but you still managed to talk and drink the night away! You drank a bit too much that night and your head started to pound and the last thing you remembered was getting pulled into an alley by the guy and a sharp pain in your chest and blood on your hands.
————————End of Flashback ————————
After you fell down to hell you quickly realized your situation and tried your best to not get in anyones way. You kept a low profile and kept your guard up just in case. You come across a casino, an abandoned one at that. You go inside and look at yourself in one of the broken mirrors on the floor. You had poker card symbols under your eyes and on your fingers. Your eyes widen at the sight, you were still wearing the same thing from last night it’s just that you have a big X on your chest. “That motherfucker killed me.” You say in disbelief, anger slowly bubbling up in you.
That day you went on a rampage. Finding an abandoned angelic spear somewhere in the bar and went fucking nuts. You swore you killed at least a good 250 demons and you kinda discovered some powers. “Cool.” You said and smirked. People had been recording you and posting about you online, calling you the “Soul gambler”, whatever that means. You slowly learned you killed 2 overlords during your little rampage and they weren’t even some random overlords, they were “heavy hitters” as people liked to call them. People started to fear you, making out the events that happened into something 10x worse. People didn’t bother looking your way anymore, wanting to light themselves on fire rather than to look at you.
You renewed the casinos around hell and gained massive amount of territory. People would visit the casinos frequently, it sort of reminded you of the casino from back when you were alive. Many people applied for the job since almost all of the jobs were taken because of hells overpopulation problem. Some old workers that worked at the casino before you renewed them and claimed them as your own started coming in, you hiring them of course since they had experience. You quickly learned there was an Overlord similar to you a few years ago. Unfortunately he lost his power and you learned from a commercial that he is now working at a hotel, Hazbin Hotel to be exact.
You decided to go and visit the hotel one day, wanting to have a chat with the old Overlord. You make yourself look presentable, wanting to look your best since you have a reputation to uphold. You walk to the hotel, people walking by screaming or just run into near by building, “Charming.” You think sarcastically and keep walking to the hotel.
You get to the hotel and look up at it, taking in its looks. It didn’t look half bad but it could use some renovation. You walk up the hill and brush yourself off one last time and knock on the big doors. There was silence for a few minutes then you heard commotion and a quiet “coming” from behind the closed doors. You wait patiently and hear the door open, seeing the one and only princess of hell. You go to speak but the door shuts right in your face; “Well that was.. something?” You think to yourself raising a brow in the process. The door opens once again, but this time by the radio demon himself, a fellow Overlord you quite liked. He didn’t try bothering you at all since you arrived in hell a few years ago and you appreciated that. “Salutations dear! It’s a pleasure finally meeting you! Quite a pleasure! Come on now, don’t just stand there. Come in!” He says stepping aside to let you in. You smile softly at him and thank him, walking into the lobby of the hotel when you suddenly stop dead in your tracks because a spear is suddenly pointed in your face. You smile, summoning your own spear and point it to the girls neck; “I wouldn’t try that if I were you. I’m not an Overlord for nothing.” The girl mumbles something in spanish and walks away, putting her spear away. You sigh and look at the princess of hell. “Well if you guys finished trying to assassinate me, let me introduce myself.” You say and look at everyone’s expressions. You smirk and continue; “My name is Y/N, maybe you know me by “Soul gambler” ,I mean uh whatever that means.” You shrug and hear a slight chuckle from Alastor and a pink spider demon, you believe his name was Angel Dust, a porn star from Valentinos studio. Poor guy was probably tricked into signing a contract with him.
“Well, I came here to ask about an Overlord that was similair to me. He owned the casinos I now own and I heard he was residing here now?” You say calmly, hoping you can to the right place. You hear slight radio static increase but choose to ignore it. Charlie shrugs, saying she doesn’t know of any Overlord being here other than Alastor, but that she hopes you will stay for a bit to see what the hotel is like. You nod in agreement and walk to the spider fellow since he was the only one that looked approachable. You talk for a bit when he suddenly says; “So um I kinda know something about the Overlord you’re looking for.” He says grabbing your full attention.
“The Overlord you’re talking about, it’s that bartender over there. You can try talking to him but I won’t guarantee that he won’t push you away.” He says lowering his tone and grabs you back the shoulder to bring you closer. You nod looking over to the bar where a grumpy cat demon sat, drinking some cheap booze. Angel pushes you towards him, giving you a thumbs up before walking away. You glare slightly but take a deep breath and walk towards the bar. His ears perk up at the sudden footsteps and looks your way, sending you slight glare; “If you’re here to make deals with me you can turn right back around and leave me the hell alone.” He says in an annoyed tone and turns around, his back facing you. You look at him and glare slightly; “What is it with you people and interrupting me all of the time? Like jeez let me fucking speak!” You say rolling your eyes and continue; “I don’t know what shit you hears about me but I can assure you that I didn’t come here to make a deal with you. I just want to talk.” You say sighing, hoping for an answer from the cat demon.
“Whatever let’s just get this over with, what is it?” He says rolling his eyes. You look around and say in a hushed tone; “Do you happen to know anything about the old Overlord that used to own the casinos I own now?” You say and hope you get the truth out of the grumpy ass cat. He looks back at you and curses Angel under his breath, an angered look on his face; “Cut the shit I know you know it was me. What do you want?” He says going closer to the counter where you were sitting opposite to him. You sigh; “I don’t want to cause any harm, really just a friendly chat. Share experiences you know? Since we’re both kind of similar..?” He looks back at you in disbelief and contemplates what to say. He sighs and pulls out two shot glasses, pouring you one and nods for you to continue. “Sooo..” “Husk. The name is Husk.” You smile, asking away and share your experience as on overlord with him. He asks some questions himself, wondering how the casino is doing or if anyone decided to come back there to work. You chat for the rest of the day, others looking at you in awe as they’ve never seen Husk open up to anyone.
After a while you get a bit drunk, talking the poor cat’s ear off. He smiles, listening to your stories, commenting on them here and there. After a bit you decide you had enough for the day and that you should get home. Charlie quickly offered you a room for the night, free of charge so you gladly accepted. “Husk go ahead and show them to their room please? I have something important to do!” Charlie yells before running off to who knows where.
Husk sighs but links your arms and walks you to your room. “Don’t forget to drink some water.. You know so you don’t throw up in the morning.” He says and walks off to his own room. You look at his figure disappearing in the dark of the hallway and enter your room. It was spacious and really nice for a hotel in hell.
You lay down in the bed, kicking your shoes off and hum in satisfaction, falling asleep just after a few seconds of resting on the comfortable bed. The next day you wake up, a slight headache but nothing pain killers couldn’t fix. You stretch and go to the bathroom, taking off your clothes and take a quick shower. You saw a new pair of clothes in the bathroom and a little note left by Charlie. You smile and take the clothes, putting them on. It wasn’t anything fancy but you liked it. You put on your shoes and fold your dirty clothes neatly on the bed and decide to head down to the lobby. It was around 9:30 ish when you went out so you hoped someone was awake. You head down and to your surprise see that everyone is awake. “Good morning sleepy head! You sure slept for quite some time!” Alastor chirped and grins at you, waving for you to come over.
You sit down next to Alastor, Charlie and Vaggie making breakfast. “So I saw you talking to Husk last night~” He smirks slightly. You roll your eyes knowing Alastor and Rosie like to gossip, usually during the meeting Carmilla holds once in a while. “Yeah? It was just a friendly chat. Sinner to sinner.” You shrug and sip on the coffe Charlie brought with the breakfast. Alastor raises a brow but shrugs and walks off.
You see the car demon from afar. Already sitting at the counter and drinking booze. You smirk and walk over with your coffee in hand and sit down at the bar; “Ain’t it a bit too soon for you to be drinking?” You tease and eye him and the booze in his hand. He chuckles lowly and smirks; “Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic darling, it’s just the way it is.” He says and shrugs his shoulders, taking another swing of his booze. “Sleep well? You seemed pretty drunk last night.” He says and eyes your figure. You smile and say; “I’m fine, I handle my alcohol pretty well just a slight headache.” You take the last sip of your coffee and place the mug down.
You look at Husk who seems to be thinking about something before he suddenly speak up; “Maybe we could repeat last night another time? Maybe you could show me what you did with my poor casino?” He teases and smirks. You fake gasp and hold your chest where your sadly dead heart is. “Oh I would bet my soul that my version of the casino is so much better than yours was.”
“We’ll see about that Doll~”
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Text
Think I need someone older
DR3 x Reader LN4!ex x Reader
I had this idea for a little while but now just doing it. I would like to use this style in my requests so got to practice.
Your WARNINGS- cheating and angst-type vibes. Horrible writing sorry besties! toxic lando!
1/2 2/2
(Y/N insta story)
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caption: Nails done for Aussie GP
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The past month has been Lando simply not making time for me. I was hoping that Australian GP would help him out because maybe it was stress. The arguments were over nothing basically and ended with me apologizing. These texts were an obvious lie but what’s the point of fighting right now. The race was yesterday and he had done good. I went supported of course, was with him at the bar until he couldn’t keep his eyes off another girl. The past month has destroyed my self esteem and I can’t be bothered anymore.
TWITTER
User1
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Lando Norris seen kissing another woman that is not his girlfriend after Australian GP.
-
There it is. The girl and of course lando. Getting into the shower, I use it to distract from the pain of being in a dead relationship. The second I’m out of the shower I’m on google searching for a nail tech to remove the nails I had gotten done for him.
Y/N insta story
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Caption: shoutout to (NailTech) for the emergency fix! 🖤
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Rolling my eyes at the messages, I start messaging my own PR team as well as Max. Max might be his best friend but he still is a loyal friend to me.
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“We’re going for a hike.” Danny says walking to the couch of the hotel where I’m sitting in a hoodie he lent me.
“Dannyyy” I whine cuddling the blanket only for him to tug it.
“We are in my homeland, no moping. I want you to remember better” he replies finishing pulling the blanket off me while I continue whining. Pulling my hands to pull me up.
“Danny people will see us and talk shit” I pout looking up at him.
“Let them, they need to be shit talking your ex more than you. Plus we can hide you from them.” He explains rubbing my arms. Sighing I lean my forehead onto his chest, “fine”.
Y/nofficial insta
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Liked by Maxfewtrell, danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 850,788 others
Australia you were weird but also stunning. Can’t wait to be back one day, maybe see more cuties.
User1: Mother we miss you come home
User2: No Lando like but Max still liking.
-user3: Max understands how relationships should work.
Danielricciardo: I thought you were going to actually steal the joey.
-Y/nofficial: I would have if you didn’t ruin my fun
-Danielricciardo: IT NEEDS TO BE WITH HIS MOTHER Y/N
-Y/nofficial: I COULD HAVE BEEN ITS MOTHER.
-maxfewtrell: I believe you could have been a good mother
-y/nofficial: thank you Maxie, at least someone believes in me!
-danielricciardo: I’m not entertaining this, don’t steal animals.
-User4: Getting more dany/n content
User5: we see that 9th picture.
-y/nofficial: that’s my bestie 😌🫶 /savior
User6: I believe Y/n could take care of the joey herself.
-Liked by Y/nofficial
—danielricciardo: stop entertaining her, next time I’m going to put her on a leash.
-y/nofficial: mememe
JAPAN GP
Y/nofficial Instagram story:
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Caption: Japan Gp nails
-landonorris replied: text me, I’m sorry
-
2/2
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AITA for debating hiring outside help for my husband and I's house because we can't keep up alone?
For context: My (26 Fae ftm) husband (28M) live very happy and healthily together. While I'm unable to medically transition due to a bunch of reasons we'll get to, he has been nothing but a solid rock in my life and the one person that has always been on my side. Through dragging me out of an abusive household to helping me with my chronic illness, he's been an absolute angel despite dressing like the devil himself (he's goth). So I don't want any hate on him.
He is ADHD and I'm Autistic. Yes, hello, we are that couple~♡ This does cause us some issues tho as he is unmedicated and I'm just struggling in general with sensory issues for certain chores. So far we keep each other some what afloat, having him do chores that my sensory issues can't handle and my doing ones he can't focus through.
However, as previously mentioned I'm chronically ill. I won't get into many details but it's basically I'm internally bleeding at random intervals. And before people think I'm talking about just my period, no it's so bad that I have once had to go to the ER for a blood transfusion due to this internal bleeding and had times when I was bleeding for over 4 months straight.
My husband and I because of this condition are pretty much struggling financially. I can work but it makes me extremely fatigued since I'm essentially working with constant Anemia. It gets bad enough some days that he can't wake me up without over an hour of effort, even after I've slept 10hrs. The fatigue is REALLY bad. He works just as much as I do, sometimes more because his work is so shortstaffed and he likes to pick up extra shifts to try and save up for the surgery that would hopefully fix everything.
This has culminated though in us both being extremely exhausted near 24/7 for the last year-ish but we have finally hit a break. I recently got a huge pay increase (nearly $200 a week increase) so we are hopeful for the first time in months. We're starting to pay down my extreme medical debt and being able to just go get dinner when he doesn't want to cook.
Here's where I may be kind of TA... Despite this hope, my condition recently did get worse. I've now gone another 3 months still bleeding and having to suffer my Anemia symptoms and medication. This has caused me to fall massively behind on what should be my chores, and while my husband doesn't begrudge me it, it has caused our home to start becoming very, very unhygienic. As someone who grew up with a clean freak mother, it kinda upsets me. He's focusing more and more on me and less on the house so even his chores are falling behind too.
None of that is his fault. He loves me so much he wants to help Me first but it has gotten to where we are both going "we really need to clean the house..." but neither of us have enough battery to do so. Me becuz of my condition and he becuz he's stuck caring for me.
We have enough that we might be able to afford to hire a cleaning service to help us out, but it would cost us some of the freedom and paying down medical bills. I think it'd only be a temporary thing, once I recover from my current episode, we can probably get better... but I don't know how long it will be.
On top of this I'm worried paying for this service will further put off my surgery as we struggle to save up for it again... We've already had to tap into that savings cuz my current episode lost me 2 days at work.
Is it unfair for me to ask to use our new extra money for essentially my not wanting to have to bother doing basic chores? I know I'm tired but I've lived with it so long I could and should probably just push through.
What are these acronyms?
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