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#my sleep deprived thoughts i wanted to share
indirigo · 2 days
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My take on the Toshiro/ Laios fight
I just wanna share my opinions bc I see a lot of people here boiling it down to oh Toshiro (bc that’s his name btw not Shuro) big meanie and neurotypical hates Laios bc he’s autistic, which completely decontextualises the fight and Toshiro’s background.
Yes, I understand why people are pissed at Toshiro ,and as an autistic person who’s been alienated my whole life what he said to Laios did hit very hard, at first I was pissed too so don’t mistake me as someone completely siding with one or the other.
Also I’m a firm believer that Toshiro is autistic as well FIGHT ME.
Toshiro is first of all very sleep deprived, hasn’t eaten, and shocked not only from seeing Falin turned into a chimera but also discovering that her brother allowed dark magic to be used on her; Toshiro grew up in country with different social norms, AND in a very strict household with a not so nice father, he was taught since his childhood to suppress his emotions (mask) and not complain. This means that he will not complain about something until he has had enough and his frustration spills out unhealthily.
Toshiro ever since joining the group has been called Shuro by Laios even tho that’s not his name, and never knew how to deal with Laios’ excitement towards him (bc again he was taught to suppress his feelings).
Laios on the other hand almost does not mask at all! (Which good for him honestly) and yes he is socially awkward and has bad timing but guess what TOSHIRO IS ALSO LIKE THIS (he literally proposed to Falin after not even telling her that he likes her) Toshiro sees himself in Laios but also sees Laios as all those things he was taught were WRONG; at the end of the fight Toshiro realised he was ENVIOUS of Laios, and I feel like people blatantly ignore it.
This is also connected imo on why he “hated” Laios but fell in love with Falin even though they have similar traits (I wanna make this point clear also bc I see a lot of people treating Laios and Falin like they’re the same person, they’re not) , Falin, like Toshiro, is way more reserved and imo he projected a lot of himself on her.
Now onto the other side, Laios is right, Toshiro should’ve told him more clearly that he thought he was annoying and interrupting him and Falin a lot of the time, bc Laios had no way of knowing as he cannot read Toshiro’s mind. And that’s just the truth.
So in conclusion what I mean to say is that yes Toshiro was mean to Laios during that fight , but the argument was so much more nuanced than how some of the readers interpreted it. It’s ok to recognise that Laios also made mistakes and we know he is extremely intelligent, let’s not dumb him down for the sake of the argument.
And saying that you want Toshiro dead over this is a bit extreme😭 and I say it as someone who got the Laios treatment multiple times.
That’s all, thank you for reading🌷
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I started this at 5:13am.
I’m thinking about how both Chris Chibnall and Chris Eccleston said- at multiple different times- that Mandip Gill and Billie Piper are FANTASTIC actors and could’ve should’ve easily played the doctor, but instead were cast as their respective Doc’s faithful companions who fell in love with them, (and the Doctor falling for them back).
And while, yeah- imagining Gill and Piper absolutely KILLING those roles, having two female Doc’s in the reboot (and starting the NuWho with a female Doc from the get-go!) Is enticing... I can’t help but mull over what my wandering mind has suggested to me: A new Doc gets an old face. 
It’d be a similar situation to what Capaldi’s Doctor (who I love) faced, with the explanation of another “why this face- what’s familiar about this face?? but with a whollllotta angst
Could You Imagine Though??
Think down the line, 16th/ 17th+ Doc now... What if we got a doctor with one of their previous Love’s face? (ie: Rose/ Yaz)
She’s just been through the wringer (probably), is now trying to get a feel for this new regeneration, and then hears her loved one talking from her mouth?? The shear whiplash of that would be catatonic. 
Everything reminds her of what she lost. Most glaringly the voice and looks. 
The Doctor still has her own mind, but explaining how the suckers on a Zygon have to be properly cared for- (because healthcare is pretty bad, even amongst aliens), or why exactly there is a solar system completely made up of moons- (as an homage to the 1,000th Anniversary of the instant intergalactic film “A Grand Day Out - Landing on the Moon”), to their newest companion- and hearing her lost love’s voice explaining these things throws her. 
The doctor hating mirrors, even more-so than before, self-esteem ain’t high in the Doc’s world already, but now because every single time she sees herself, she sees who she lost. 
And it hurts.
It burned a new kind of cruelty when she briefly starts rambling off about the places to go and the chameleon circuit and things- just babbles! Before catching a view of herself in the mirror and breaking down because another companion has her ever-expansive, explosive mind stuck in their body. fFUC-
Every time she explains something or makes quips, she hears her partner’s voice instead of her own. It’s excruciating. And exhausting. 
Sleep doesn’t come easily when the screams of your love wakes you up in the middle of the night, only for you to realize that they are your own. 
So she gets quiet. Especially at the beginning. Maybe she takes up Sign Language, (not that she don’t already know it- but it’s constantly changing and evolving faster than people may think... esp across space n time), she becomes more adept at just throwing quick easy signs up and gesticulating across the room rather than actually verbally communicating. She gets really into art, chess, music, podcasts, anything to distract from hearing her partner’s voice all the time. 
And the look. Oh, every Doctor has their own “look,” but now for her- it’s doubly important. This is a person she cares about, she can’t just throw them in anything (regardless of if they could never look bad to her), but she also needs to be in something else- something different to what they would wear so she doesn’t do double takes every time she walks down the street.
There’s also the body itself- now technically her own, but she can’t seem to shake that it still belongs to someone else from another time, in a separate place. That’s gonna be Weird n Awkward for a bit. 
But then... time makes things better. (As it tends to do). 
She makes kids smile on the street, wears extravagant homemade Halloween costumes, and welcomes the random chess game with a stranger at the occasional park. She uses funny voices, kicks bigot ass, and spends as much time listening as she used to spend talking, as to not “talk over” others just to distract herself. She tries to not be as swanky and show-y off as much, but to always take the silly route to any explanation and make people laugh, (even if they’re shaking their heads in her direction while doing it). 
And throughout this whole regeneration, she realizes that she’s been good. Really good. Better than she’s felt in a long time actually, feeling more fulfilled, confident, and happy than she’s been in a while. She’s gotten to make her loved one- loved by all. To make them shine, not only in her book, but across the stars as well. 
And so the next time her new companion makes her laugh and she hears her loved one laugh in her place- she can say the tears in the corner of her eyes the companion points out when she turns her head actually are from laughing to hard this time, nothing else. 
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julesnichols · 1 month
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One day (when I've slept enough to both remember enough to make all of my points and be coherent) I'll explain what I meant when I joked about Sophie being worse
#about me#bc i do have Thoughts. and also i did Not mean that negatively lmfao#i love women who are worse! she is not even the worst character i've stanned#arguably that award goes to melanie cavill#but it's not Negative and it sure as hell does NOT mean that i think that nate isn't also deeply deeply flawed#or that she corrupted him somehow#enabled him sometimes? yeah. but he was already either Like That or on the path to being Like That#but like i said that meme works both ways and that's why they work#i will also elaborate on what i mean by that when i'm not so exhausted#she's his compass. she didn't intend to make him worse nor did she#she made him better. he made her better. they balance each other as much as they clash with one another#anyways all of my reasoning for why i felt like i could say she's worse for that meme#do not even have to do with nate lmfao#when i make this post tho i will be Open to civil debate for people to share their povs of why they don't think the same way#that's kinda the other reason why i'll make it though#bc i did Not spend enough time on that meme to be more than mildly irritated by some of the commentary#but i also don't want it totally derailed when i think it's def smth that could be an interesting discussion to be had#and i'll gladly host that discussion when i'm not dying of sleep deprivation#i just wanna give it its own platform y'know?#i don't want it to get lost on a silly little meme#but anyways it's also like#his influence did make her better and hers made him somewhat better too#but in his case her influence more like. balanced him. than anything else#bc he got worse and worse and it had Nothing to do with her#but she was still the one yanking him back from the edge of no return#and i suppose in a way that does inherently make her better#but again when i made that meme and said she was worse i was not even thinking in terms of her actual relationship to nate#as what made her worse lmfao#more along the lines of the collateral damage mostly done by charlotte prentice#and specifically to william and astrid
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dollfacefantasy · 7 months
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Daddy's Home
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: you let the d word slip during sex and leon will not let you live it down
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink, praise/degradation, spits in her mouth, mention of breeding kink, cums inside, crying during sex
word count: 2.3k
a/n: hi everyone. i wrote this all in one sitting because i was feeling absolutely depraved. i was also a little sleep deprived, so go easy on me. i hope everyone likes this. if you sent me a request, i am working on it, just be patient with me :) anywho, thank you to cooking mama @sleepyluxe for inspiring me to whip this one up. as always reblogs and comments are appreciated. smooches to everyone <3
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“Daddy!” you cry out when the tip of Leon’s cock brushes over a sensitive spot deep within you.
He had you pinned on your bed, your legs over his shoulders as he pounded into your throbbing cunt. Your warm skin rubs against his as low grunts rise from his throat in time with his rhythmic thrusts. His arm flexes from his iron grip on the headboard above you. He was so deep in you that you couldn’t think straight. And that’s why that word tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.
The second he hears it his eyes open fully, his hips sputter, and he comes to a halt inside of you. Your legs slip down to either side of his waist. He looks down at your blissed-out face, trying to discern if you realized what you had said. He’s shocked at first. Sure, you had always leaned to the submissive side of the bedroom, but you had never expressed an interest to him about anything like that. At first, it shocked him, but he felt a fuse ignite in the pit of his stomach. A cruel smirk grows on his face.
“What did you say?” he asks slowly, letting it sink into your mind what you had let slip.
Your mind, in its foggy state, took a moment to catch up. You rewind the last thirty seconds in your head and humiliation crashes over you in one brutal wave. You feel your face getting hot. You can’t meet his eyes as your brain scrambles to conjure an excuse.
“Nothing,” you say quietly, settling on that as a satisfactory explanation.
He almost laughs, but he didn’t want to be mean. Yet.
“No, sweetheart. Use your words, c’mon. I know you can,” he croons while tilting your face up by your chin. He runs a thumb over your jaw to try and soothe you into sharing.
His eyes lock on yours with an intense gaze, luring out your soul to expose your desires to him.
“I didn’t… I- It’s nothing. I didn’t say anything,” you say, unable to get the word to leave your lips for a second time. His smile grows at your shyness.
“Oh, c’mon babydoll. Don’t you want to be a good girl for Daddy?” he teases with an evil glint in his eyes.
Involuntarily, you flutter around him when he says the magic word, and that makes him chuckle. You bite your lip as his thumb continues running along your jaw. He looks down at you with the gaze of a predator closing in on their prey.
“I thought that’s what you said,” he says, letting go of the headboard and lowering himself closer to your face, “Who knew my angel could be so naughty? My baby who would blush just when I’d hold her hand. Never would have imagined I’d hear her moaning for Daddy. Maybe I don’t know you as well as I thought.”
He places a few soft kisses on your cheek while you squirm, feeling your embarrassment grow. It didn’t help that you could still feel his cock pulsing inside you the entire time.
“If that’s what you like, you could have told me, honey,” he says in between pecks. His voice is gentle, but there is still a hint of mocking, “It makes sense now that I think about it. Always clinging to me, curling up on my lap, just so desperate to be in my arms. You just want Daddy to take care of you, right? Love you and keep you safe? Well, I can do that, baby, but you have to say you want it.”
It felt as if each word he spoke worked away at melting your brain. You felt warmth growing in your chest and spreading out through your limbs. That desire to be held was growing overwhelming. You could feel yourself sinking into that place where only one thing was on your mind. Daddy.
You had never told any of your lovers about this. It made you feel dirty, wrong, perverse. You never thought Leon would go for it which is why you kept it locked away in the deepest, most intimate chamber of your heart. But here he was. Silky locks of brown hair almost covering his eyes, his toned abdomen pressed to yours, and that knowing smile plastered on his face as he egged you on.
“Say it,” he says after your brief silence, “Tell me what you want.”
“I want Daddy,” you whimper out quietly. You feel shame rising in your chest as you voice the thoughts that had bounced around your skull for longer than you could remember. You had thought of him this way since before the first time you had slept together, but you had never said it out loud.
“Speak up, baby. Daddy can’t hear you when you mumble,” he teases before that taunting expression increases, “And be more specific.”
“I want Daddy… I want Daddy to fuck me,” you say with more clarity but the same amount of timidness. 
He lets out a cruel laugh. “Listen to my little angel’s mouth. Dirty baby. But I think I can do that for you,” he says before he begins moving his hips again.
You moan softly at the light relief, both physical and mental from him moving on from the topic. Or so you thought.
“Mhm, that’s right. Daddy’s got you, babe. I’m gonna take good care of my girl,” he purrs in your ear.
The low rumble of his voice directly in your ear has your insides on fire. Before you can stop yourself, a pathetic whine escapes you.
“Daddy,” you say as your face tenses and your eyes flutter.
“Daddy’s here, sweetheart. Filling you up so perfect, yeah? Just the way you like,” he mumbles as his hand slides up to grip your throat while rolling his hips against yours.
“Daddy,” you whimper again, your head tilting back against the pillows while you squirm.
“Is that the only word you know, sweet girl?” he mocks, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make sure I fuck you so hard that’ll be the only word that can leave that slutty mouth of yours.”
Your pussy clamps down around him while your arms loop around his shoulders. The need to be close to him was primal. It was innate. You couldn’t ignore it. You whimper and whine as he snaps himself into you over and over while kissing your neck below your ear. He lets out a growl against your neck, causing you to dig your nails into his back in response.
“Harder Daddy,” you mewl.
He presses his forehead against your neck and grunts. Despite his teasing, he was enjoying this just as much as you. His hands fall to your hip and hold so tight you can already feel the bruises.
“Use your manners, princess,” he says, “You’re not the boss. You ask Daddy for what you want and if I feel nice, you’ll get it.”
“Please Daddy. Please harder. Please, need it so bad,” you ramble out immediately. Your nails start to drag down his back, leaving faint red trails in their wake.
“Are you sure? You’re already falling a part for me, and I haven’t even really started yet,” he says.
“I’m sure. Please!” you beg.
“If you’re sure, baby,” he says.
He grants your wish and starts drilling into you at a ruthless speed. Your skin claps against his, both of you starting to work up a sweat. Strained, broken moans fill the room as his cock strokes every possible sweet spot inside of you. You flutter around him as the tension in your belly grows.
“So close already, angel? I thought you could handle it. When did my baby girl become such a needy whore?” he breathes with that same grin, “You can cum whenever you want this time but know that you aren’t done. Not until I’m satisfied.”
You nod as whines and moans rise in your throat. You’re panting and rolling your hips to meet his thrusts. He cages you in on the mattress and works harder to push you over the edge. One of his hands slips between the two of you to thumb your swollen clit.
In no time, you’re spasming and gasping as surges of release course through you. Your eyes roll back and you cry out for Daddy some more.
Leon chuckles. “Yeah, sweetheart, only Daddy can make you cum like this. No one else.”
You again nod mindlessly. You continue cumming, trembling as the high works its way through you. When it should be done, you don’t get to come down. His constant pumping makes that impossible. Your head is syrupy and cloudy. You feel like you’re being dragged along for this ride while still floating in your own little world.
Leon shakes his head and half-laughs, half-moans at your dazed expression. Your glossy eyes and slowed blinking. The little stream of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth that he wipes away with his fingers.
Despite being so fucked out, you still babble incoherently and cling to him like you needed him to live. He positions his face above yours and spits down into your mouth before kissing you lovingly.
“Daddy, ah, oh fuck, Daddy, Daddy,” you start to chant like it’s a prayer when your lips separate. He kisses you hard again, shutting you up momentarily, before pulling back and stroking your hair from your face.
“Did I fuck my baby dumb already? So quick doll, it’s almost pathetic,” he teases, “You wanted this so bad didn’t you? You wanted Daddy to fuck your head clear? Well, I’ll do that. Wouldn’t want you to strain yourself thinking. My pretty girl doesn’t need thoughts. She just needs to be good for daddy.”
You clench around him hard and nod while more noises that once could have been words exit you. You nuzzle your head against the side of his head, taking in the feel and smell of him.
“You’re lucky I love you. I’ll do the thinking for us both. You just have to sit pretty in Daddy’s lap and take his cock,” he grunts, “Though, maybe sometimes I’ll keep you at my feet. You just kneel on the ground between my legs and rest that cute, thoughtless, little head on my thigh. Let me look into those beautiful, empty, eyes staring up at me. If you’re good, you can suck me off.”
It was all so much. His words swirled around your head that was fuzzy with euphoria, each syllable sinking you down into that part of your head that wanted him more than anything. The compartment of your brain that gave you the need to tuck yourself under his arm and cuddle with him. The compartment that gave you the craving for sweet kisses and praise. The compartment that told you all you needed to do was listen to Daddy and be his perfect girl.
Tears start pricking at your eyes and you can’t fight them off in this state. They fall from your eyes and you whimper. You cling to him tighter as he works himself into you over and over. He notices and leans down to kiss a few away.
“Aww, did I make my sweet baby girl cry? Is Daddy being mean to you by teasing?” he coos, “No, it’s not that, is it? My baby just feels so good she can’t take it. She was acting like such a pathetic slut, but deep down you’re still my good girl. My precious little angel who deserves all the love in the world.”
You cry harder and pull him closer so you can bury your face against him. Your tears wet his skin as he he kisses your hairline and rubs a hand up and down your side.
“Good girl. Cry for Daddy, baby. Get all of it out. It just feels so good, doesn’t it? Too much for a sweet thing like you?” he asks.
“Maybe a little,” you whimper against his shoulder.
“Daddy always knows best, little love. You’ll learn that soon enough,” he says with a kiss to your head.
He continues fucking you into the mattress, working himself to that edge. It wasn’t hard to reach with you crying in his ear and mumbling about how much you loved him.
“Not much longer, sweetheart,” he hums as his eyes shut momentarily. He fights off an impending orgasm with a groan before training his eyes back on you, “I’ll let you choose this time. Where do you want Daddy’s cum, baby?”
“Inside,” you answer clearly with no hesitation.
“Inside,” he laughs, “You really want that. Want daddy to breed this little pussy? Get you nice and full. Yeah, that’s what daddy’s girl needs. Need a hot load inside you or you can’t relax.”
He snaps into you harder and keeps a firm hold on you. You feel like you’re cumming again, but you’re not sure when your last release ended so it’s hard to tell. He’s right there. You can feel him pulsing and twitching between your walls.
“Fuck, she needs to be bred. I can tell by how tight you’ve been. Sucking me in the whole time. I’ve already got you trained so well,” he moans.
A few more pumps, and he’s spilling inside you, exploding against your cervix. He’s fingers are digging into your flesh while his hips buck and he growls and whimpers into your neck. His hot and sticky ropes of cum fill you and satiate that urge inside you. For now.
When he’s done, his hips come to a stop. He lazily kisses all over your face and wipes your remaining tears away before gingerly pulling out and flopping down next to you.
Even though, your carnal needs have been fulfilled, you still wanted to be close and touching at all time. You roll over to him and place yourself against his side. You drape your arm across his chest and nuzzle his pectoral muscle.
He pulls you close in return and gives you some small kisses on your head.
“My good girl,” he whispers.
You nod and snuggle closer as he starts rubbing your back. The two of you come down in peace for a little while before he looks down at you and smirks.
“So, Daddy, huh?” he teases.
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becomingmina · 3 months
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Mad - fluff and suggestive w/Chan. 18+ only mdni
Mad series is here 🤍
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“Please! Can we go out?” You tugged at your boyfriend’s shirt.
You and Chan were tangled up on the couch on a Friday afternoon. When he had told you his afternoon was free you were quick to straddle his lap, begging for him to take you out. He laughs at your eagerness while he was laying on his back with one arm under his head, the other caressing your thigh.
“I have to wake up early tomorrow. Can’t we just stay home? We can play some games and order in,” he tried to convince you.
“But you’re finally free for the afternoon and we have like..” you counted your fingers “.. we have like 7 hours before you can wind down..” you begged with a pout.
“Or we can do something else for 7 hours baby,” he suggested with a smirk, inching his hand up higher on your thigh.
“But I got this pretty dress—” you huffed; you didn’t want to take no for an answer.
“—Then go out by yourself,” Chan sharply replied, removing his hand from you to join the other one under his head. You can tell he wasn’t serious evidently by his smile, but you were.
“Maybe I should.”
“Good.. I get to rest more without you on me,” he scoffed, playfully.
“Pffffft, you want me on you!” You rolled your eyes.
“Not today baby. Go.” he flickers his eyes to the front door then back at you.
“Fine.”
You got off him and went into your shared bedroom, sitting on the bed in silence. You were waiting for him follow you and maybe change his mind about not going but he never entered the bedroom. You rolled your eyes and decided to check what he was up to, slowly opening the door to peek, only to see him asleep, his cheeks was pressed up against the surface of the couch.
“Gosh..” you smiled at your sleep-deprived boyfriend. He looked so worn out, so cute like this, you know you couldn’t force him out..
..But you were still longing to get out, itching for a boost of confidence. You had just ordered a pretty dress online and it finally arrived. You wanted to wear it, wanted to doll up since all you have been in the past couple of weeks was Chan’s big t-shirt and sweatpants feeling a little ugly.
You sat back on your bed again, pondering what you should do with the rest of your day, what you should do to make you feel better.
You pulled out your phone, dialling a number. “Hey, you wanna go out S/GF/N?”
While your boyfriend was still passed out, you got ready to go out with the girlfriends of the other boys and threw in a quick nap. You straighten your hair, put on your make up before slipping on the dress. It was just a simple black halter body-con dress, but you felt extremely sexy in it.
It was 7pm by the time you were done with everything. You strutted out with a pair of high heels towards your boyfriend who had just woken up, occupied on his phone.
“Hey baby, how was your sleep?” You ask softly, bending down to give him a peck on his cheek.
“Good,” he says pulling you onto his lap as he sat up.
He locks his phone before looking up at you, gasping at your appearance.
His eyes widen, travelling from your shoulders down the curve of your body to your legs then back up to your pretty face. He found you extremely sexy like this, not that he never thought you weren’t. But it’s also been a while since he saw you all dressed up.
“Woah.. Where.. Where you going pretty girl?” He stuttered.
“Out! Gonna go clubbing!” You say cheerfully, wrapping your arms around him while his drops around your waist.
“Y/N, were you serious?” He was taken off guard at your quick reply.
“Yeah, I told you I wanted to go out,” a hint of desideration showing.
“Baby— but with who?” It was his turn to whine now.
“With the girls now since you didn’t want to go,” you teased him and Chan shoots you a guilty smile. “I wanted to be pretty today. My pretty dress finally arrived.. Look,” your hand smooths over the hem of your dress before pointing at the neckline, showing it off to your boyfriend.
“You are pretty, always will be baby,” he says caressing your arm and looking up at you in adoration. “Now I’m mad.. at myself.”
He’s mad at himself. He feels like a bad boyfriend not registering your cues of you wanting to feel and look pretty. He retraces back to the past couples of week how you have been cooped up in his apartment in nothing but lounge wear, you couldn’t even dress yourself up for work since you work from home. Although you have always been the prettiest to him, he understands how you feel. You were just a girl, his girl.
“Why?”
“That I’m going to be home by myself now while my pretty girlfriend will be out in this sexy dress.. all because I didn’t know she wanted to feel pretty,” his eyes traces down your body one more time, feeling his start to get flushed.
“Is it too late?” he genuinely asked.
You laugh. “Mhmm, the other girls are ready to go.”
“You really going to leave me like this?” He looked down to the area you weren’t quite sitting on, indicating to something that was growing hard, but you just laugh. You were already running behind, so he just has to suck it up and wait till you come back so you can take care of him.
“I’ll let you kiss me, but I will have to leave you like this,” He smiled at you before pulling your face closer, letting your lips finally touch each other. He deepens the kiss quickly and you let him have his way for a little bit until pulling back completely.
“Can I’ll drop you?”
“Are you sure?” You didn’t want to bother him. After seeing him pressed up against the couch exhausted, you feel guilty because he never has time to himself.
“Of course! I would love to do my boyfriend duties for my baby.”
You had blast to be very honest. You have never felt this sexy and confident in a while. And to feel this way all night with the best of your friends was very special to you. You enjoyed girls night alot, but there were moments where you missed Chan. But you knew he was going to be home waiting for you so you just had to wait till the end of the night to see him again.
“How was it?” He asked the second you got into his car.
“It was fun. We drank and danced alot and.. I missed you heaps,” you slurred cheerfully, drunk and a little horny.
“Missed me?” He smirked.
“Mhmm, missed you Channie,” you pouted reaching out for his hand.
“Gotta go home first..” he says as he lets you hold his hand. “Gotta go home first and then I’ll let you show me how much you missed me.” He gives you a flirty glance and pull his hand to your lips, pecking the back of it.
“How did you feel though?”
“I feel sexy, Channie,” you confess.
“I’m happy to hear that. You look so extremely sexy tonight baby,” he complimented, making sure you know he acknowledges your feelings.
Once you got home, he instantly drags you into the bedroom, pushing you to sit in the bed.
“Missed you so much..” he crouches down and steady himself by his hands on either side of you. “I can’t believe I rather sleep than go out with you today..” planted a kiss to your shoulder making you giggle. “..I’m such bad boyfriend..” he continues and you nod.
“Such a bad boyfriend for my good Y/N,” he kisses your other shoulder before pushing you down on the bed.
“Hmm, you’re such a bad boyfriend,” you jokingly agreed, pulling him ontop of you as you make space for him in between your legs.
“You gonna let me make it up to you?” His hands inches up your thigh, bunching up your dress.
“Yes Chan please. Make it up to me..” you couldn’t wait any longer now, practically whining underneath him. “Just wanted to be pretty for you today..” you say breathless and he starts to nip the skin on your neck.
“No.. no more…” you whimpered as he pulls outs of you. You were out of breath, close to blacking out.
“Okay okay.. shhh shh.. that was last one, my pretty girl..” Chan comforted you after coating 5 orgasms out of you. He wiped you down before throwing the towel away, pulling you into his chest.
“Ohh— is it 5 already?” He questioned after glancing at the alarm clock which made you look up to confirm.
It has been 4 hours since he peeled your dress off you. And although you were wrecked, it was worth every second.
“I got no sleep.. Gotta call off practice,” he says and your face immediately lits up. The tiredness gone the second you know he was finally going to be home on a Saturday morning. He smiles at you before reaching out for his phone and unlocking it.
Chan Practice cancelled for today
Seungmin Why?
Chan Gotta deal with Y/N
You watch as he converses with his group members. “Okay but then thats makes me seem annoying,” you complain and he looks down at you.
“She’s sick?” He chuckles, with a raised eyebrow.
“But then I don’t want them to think you took the day off just because I’m hung over,” you complained again, with a fake pout.
“Should I just tell them the truth then?” He suggests, placing a kiss to your forehead. “Tired from fucking Y/N since she came back from the clubs,” he says and you playfully hit his chest getting all shy at how he blew your back just a couple minutes ago.
“They all will understand. I’m sure they missed their girlfriends too,” he said, throwing away his phone and pushing your head in his chest so you can finally rest.
“Since I’m home today baby..” he starts, and you hummed. “What do you want to do when we wake up?”
{🏷️ Taglist for this series: @lolareadsimagines}
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andersonlore · 5 months
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†⠀warnings y disclaimers — eighteen+, sexual content (alluding), jock!abby, soft!abby, simp!abby, stubborn!reader, abby being a tease. part one.
jock!abby patience was wearing incredibly thin. she was always having to share you with ellie and she despised the situation just like the fucking brat — the one who demanded all your time and attention. okay, so maybe she was being a bit needy, and really the two of you hadn’t really said you were exclusive, but abby wasn’t with anyone else and didn’t want to be. she was stupidly sweet on you, and the sex was amazing. you were worth it for her to fight a little more.
jock!abby caved when it’s been an entire month and all she got were longing texts from you. saying you missed her but with classes, trying to keep your head above water, and ellie, you just didn’t simply have the time right now. although, abby blushed when you confessed she was important to you and you would see her soon. it’s the only time she’s thankful the interaction is filtered through a screen.
jock!abby called you the night before the game, she was supposed to be sleeping, or at least trying to, but with you on the forefront of her mind it seemed nearly impossible. she was embarrassed, your phone ringing four times, no answer. but on the fifth, you finally picked up. she thought you were ignoring her, avoiding her at the very least. but then you’re honeyed voice drips all over her heart and now it truly feels like the first day of spring.
“You should be sleeping, Abs. You have such an early day tomorrow and you need rest.” “I know, I just-” Abby took a moment to breathe, trying to calm herself enough to not reveal herself as a totally pathetic loser. “I’m so tense, baby. How am I supposed to sleep?” “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what has you so…tense.” You question suggestively, your voice lowering an octave. “Well, I haven’t see you in a month, so there’s that.” Abby hints, and you pick up on it immediately. “There’s a line of girls on this campus who would love to ease the tension for you. Pick one, I’m sure you wouldn’t have to go far.” Your tone is bitter, thinking of her with someone else, but you don’t have much room to feel jealousy. Not when Ellie would feel like you stabbed her in the back if she found out about your late night rendezvous with Abby. “Stop it.” Abby barked. “What?” “You’re honestly going to make me say it? When you’re the one who’s been avoiding me? Really going to make me beg for it, baby?” You snap. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” It’s useless now. Abby has you pinned. Honestly, you’re not even upset about it. “You don’t have to lie me. I already know what you want.” “Fine, I’ll bite. What do I want, Abby?” “You want to not like me, right? It’d be easier wouldn’t it? I bet it would. But you like me, sure as hell love fucking me, and that can’t sit well. Not when I’m the enemy, not when I’m so evil and cruel.” You were silent, only heavy breathing could be heard on the phone. “Just tell me to fuck off, tell me I’m mean, tell me I’m the worst and I’ll hang up and you won’t have to talk to me again.” Abby continues, as if she needs to say anymore. “Be a good girl for Ellie, baby. It’s why you’ve deprived me of your pussy, huh? Tell me you don’t want to feel my lips, my tongue, my fingers. Be a good fucking girl and say it.” You were biting your lip, a moan threatening to escape. Pathetic. “I-I don’t, this isn’t…” You choke up, and god you can practically see her grinning. “You don’t want me?” Abby teased. “It’s….god, please Abs.” “You fall asleep in my arms, but then ditch before I can wake up. You don’t wanna see me but text me for weeks how much you miss me. You’re going to have to do better than that. Tell me what you want.” You’re trying to get something out, anything but you can’t seem to form a thought when Abby keeps going on and on, your cunt clenching every time you hear her voice. You’re forgetting why you’ve kept your distance in the first place. “I wanna make you feel good, help with the tension. Baby, please let me.” She finally breaks you, but the both you are smiling and Abby’s light laughter edges into the small cracks of your heart. “Mmmm, baby. Tell me how good it feels to be fucking yourself with your fingers to the sound of my voice. Don't even bother lying this time.”
jock!abby thinks about your breathy moans, the wet sounds of your cunt bouncing through the mic and into her ears. she loves hearing you moan her name out, you’re so desperate for her. so willing to be whatever she wants you too even if it will cost you. abby feels bad, but then she sees you and suddenly she doesn’t care what kind of karma comes her way. if she gets to have you, isn’t it worth the cost?
jock!abby isn’t surprised when you’re knocking on her door three days later. it’s clear what you want or at least she thinks so. it’s almost midnight and abby thought you just want to fuck. she’d be more than happy to oblige. she’d pretty much do anything. you’re as sweet as they get, more than she deserves, but she takes it anyways.
jock!abby catches you with her unwavering strength, your legs wrapped around her waist and your arms locked around neck. you’re whispering how bad you need her, how much you’ve missed her, how shitty your week has been, and the only thing getting you through was telling her all about it. so, she lets you. it’s foolish maybe, but abby can only think with her heart right now, and it really wants to be with you.
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seunmong-in · 29 days
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🌅Sunsets in Sydney🌅
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Genre: Fluff, childhood best friend to lovers, Idol! Felix x Reader, Humor, slight cursing, she fell first but he fell harder. 
Words: 2.1k 
Summary: After being on tour for a whole year, Felix is finally back in Sydney for a well-deserved break. While he is ecstatic to be with his family again, there’s one person who he wants to see most. His childhood best friend and crush, Y/N. 
A/n: Okay, can I start this off by saying, Holy crap… Thank you to all who like or reblogged my first fanfic with Han!! ( click his name if you wanna read it ! ) I honestly thought it wasn’t that good since I wrote it in a very sleep-deprived state, lol. But y’all proved me wrong🥹❤️‍🩹 That said, I hope you guys also like this story with Felix! Like always, if you have any feedback or want to make a special request just DM me!! Here’s also my latest one with Seungmin as well 🫶🏼
P.S Does anyone else have “that’s not very nice” stuck in their head too?
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘
365 days. 
That's how long Felix has been away from the place he calls home. And no, he doesn't mean his actual home back in Sydney. He means being away from his childhood best friend, Y/n. 
Felix and Y/n have been best friends since grade school. They have always been there for each other, from performing in talent shows to caring for each other when one falls ill. They are like two peas in a pod; wherever one goes, the other is sure to follow.
On the day Felix had to tell Y/n that he was leaving Sydney to become an idol in Korea, he broke down crying. He was worried that being thousands of miles away from his closest friend would strain their relationship. As he was about to board the plane, he turned around to see Y/n waving goodbye to him with tears streaming down her face, and he couldn't help but cry, too.
Surprisingly, Felix and Y/n's friendship didn't end after that day. Instead, their bond grew even stronger. Y/N would constantly update Felix through text or calls, sharing the details of her day and making sure he didn't miss out on anything important. While Felix enjoyed receiving these updates, what he loved most was the pictures his mom would send him of Y/n with his family on small family trips. Seeing her smile and taking selfies with his sisters always warmed his heart.
He had already surpassed the stage of simply developing feelings for Y/n. Felix adored her. He loved her. Whenever he watched a video of a couple on TikTok or Instagram, he imagined how to recreate the same videos with Y/n by his side. His heart skipped when Y/n surprised him at one of his earlier concerts with Olivia and Hannah, Chan's sister. The memory of her dancing his part of God's Menu while Hannah danced Chan's part on the big screen was something he would never forget. Since that night, Felix had been planning to confess his love to Y/n, and he decided to do it under the sunset in Sydney.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽
Under the hot summer sun, Felix's freckled face is lit up with a big smile as his family rushes to greet him. Olivia is the first to embrace him, screaming, "Oh my God, do you even know how I miss you, Lix?!"
Felix laughed, embracing his youngest sister and repeating, "I miss you more." He noticed that Olivia had grown a bit since the last time he saw her and that her hair was now dyed at the ends. Noticing her brother staring at her hair, Olivia mentioned that Y/N did it a few days ago at one of their usual girls' nights. His mom and dad were the next two to hug him tightly, with his mom shedding a few happy tears.
"I say this every time, but I am so happy to have my baby back home."
Felix wraps his arms around his mom, hugging her as he says, "I am happy to be back home to Mom."
Felix was sitting in the back of a car, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Y/n. He was waiting for her message, asking if he had reached home safely, but he had yet to receive any message from her. Although this was unusual, he assumed she might be busy.
Suddenly, Olivia abruptly interrupts Felix's train of thought, "So, are you finally going to ask Y/n to be your girlfriend while you're here, or are we still sticking to the whole 'she's just my best friend' excuse?" The unexpected question catches Felix off guard. His face turns red with embarrassment as his mother turns her head around from the passenger seat, waiting for a response.
Avoiding eye contact with his mother and sister, Felix clears his throat, allowing himself to find the right words.
"Um.. what makes you think I even have feelings for her?"
Olivia stares at her older brother, scolding him with his earlier response, "Felix be so fucking for real right now. It's obvious you have feelings for Y/n. You look at her as if she is your whole world, your face lights up with a smile whenever she texts you, and you always seem to find a way to talk about her when we talk on the phone. If that doesn't scream, "I am in love with my best friend," then I don't know what does. Oh, and before you go and argue with me about this, even the boys agree that you are completely strung up on her. So do us all a favor and tell her how you feel, will you?"
Felix sighs as he looks up to see his sister's gaze. He knew he had to come clean now before his plans got ruined. 
"Have I mentioned how much I dislike you sometimes, Liv?"
"Yeah, but I'm your favorite sister, so start spilling before I call Hyunjin and have him tell Y/n to you." 
During the last five minutes of their car ride, Felix confided in his family about his plan to ask Y/n out when they reached the house. He made them promise not to say anything to Y/n about his plan since he wanted to create a memorable and private moment between them.
As Felix's father pulled into the driveway, Felix noticed Y/n's car parked across the street. His heart raced as he jumped out of the car, ignoring his mother's yelling about not going inside yet. 
Felix barges through the main door and stops when he sees the handmade "Welcome Home Lixie" banner that Y/n was struggling to put up. He chuckles softly and leans by the living room doorway, watching as she gets on her tiptoes to hook the string onto the nail.
"You know, I could've helped you put up the banner, sunshine if you would've waited a little longer."
Y/n turns around to find Felix smirking. Blushing, she runs to him and hugs him. He hugs her back, lifting her up and spinning her around.
Trying not to cry on his shoulders, Y/n ever so softly whispers, "You have no idea how much I missed your hugs, Lix."
"Me too, sunshine, it's been way too long."
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘
After returning home and having dinner early, Felix went upstairs to his room. There, he discovered a welcome-home basket in the center of his bed. The basket contained his favorite candies, face masks, a small chicken plushie, and gift cards to his preferred places. Felix smiled, realizing that it was a gift from Y/n. She was always the type to spoil others with gifts, even if it was a small occasion. Looking through the gifts in the basket, he heard a soft knock on the door, and Y/n walked in. When Felix looked up at her, they locked eyes for the second time that day. Time seemed to come to a standstill, and after a while, Y/n was the first to break the silence.
"I hope you like it; I saw it on Tiktok late last night and thought I should make you one."
"I love it a lot; thank you, sunshine." 
He gives her a soft smile and motions for her to sit with him on the bed. She walks over and sits beside him, watching him unwrap more gifts. Y/n can't help but laugh as Felix brings the chicken plushie up to his face, jokingly asking, "Do you think it looks like me?"
"As much as I want to say yes, I feel like I am going betray BbokAri, so I must lie and say no."
Felix and Y/n laugh as Felix places the plushie back on the shelf behind him. The room lights up in a golden hue, indicating the sun is about to set. Without wasting more time, Felix takes Y/n's hand and leads her out of his room and towards his car.
"Lix, what are you doing? Where are we going?"
"I was hoping we could watch the sunset together again, just like we did as kids. It's been quite some time since the last time we did, and let's face it, we're not getting any younger. Before we know it, we'll be as old as old man Chan."
""I'm going to tell him you said that," she says, laughing as she follows him to his car. They both jump in and drive to the nearby beach.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘
As the car pulled onto the sandy shore, Felix practically flew out of his side to open the door for Y/n. She beamed with delight as she stepped out, feeling the warm sand under her toes. Felix swiftly closed the car door and took her hand, leading her towards the beach. The sky was ablaze with a breathtaking display of pink and orange hues as the sun descended below the horizon.
"I forgot how pretty the sunset could be when you can see the reflection on the water."
"I know, but it's even prettier with you beside me," Felix responds. 
Y/n stands before Felix, unsure if he is joking or serious. He chuckles as she becomes flustered.
"You know that's not very nice."
"What isn't sunshine?"
"You saying that to me and not explaining what you mean," Y/n states as she turns away from him. 
Felix grabs Y/n by her waist and spins her, holding her close. Y/n's face flushes a deep shade of pink as she catches her breath. They've been close for years, but something feels different about this moment. There's a palpable tension in the air, a feeling of unspoken love that's hard to ignore. Felix looks deep into Y/n's eyes, examining how the sun's warm glow illuminates them. The sound of waves crashing against the shore adds to the moment's magic. Fighting the urge to kiss her immediately, Felix takes a deep breath as he stares into her eyes. 
"Do you remember why I decided to return home for a break instead of staying in the dorms with the boys?" Puzzled by his random question, Y/n nods her head, looking back into his dark brown eyes. 
"Of course I do. It was because you wanted to be with your family since you were homesick, Lix."
"You're right. But there's something important that I need to tell you, something that should've been said from the very beginning. Y/n, I like you. I'm in love with you. I love you so much that it hurts not to have you by my side most days or even to call you mine. The night before I left Sydney, I intended to confess my feelings to you, but I knew it was bad timing since I was leaving, and I didn't want to end our friendship. So, I kept it to myself for years. However, seeing you with Liv and Hannah at our concert earlier this year, dancing and singing to our songs, made me realize that what I felt for you was more than just a simple grade school crush. Y/n, I'd be lying if I said you weren't the person I want to spend the rest of my life with because I do. I want you to be mine, my only sunshine. And if you don't feel the same way, I understand..."
Felix was toward the end of his sentence when Y/n suddenly cut him off by pressing her lips against his. It was a bold move, but she had been crushing on Felix for what felt like an eternity and couldn't hold back any longer. When they finally pulled away, Felix looked at Y/n with a knowing smile, pressing his forehead on hers. In a very soft voice, Felix finally finishes his sentence. 
"I cannot imagine spending a single day without you by my side anymore. Will you do me the greatest honor of all and be mine forever?
""Until forever stops existing, my love."
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
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i just had a really cute idea- What about reader after the birth of her baby with Alastor feeling a bit insecure about strech marks ? how does Alastor make her feel loved?
FUCK I LOVE THIS
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Body issues, Suggestive?
Description: ☝️⬆️
At first, Alastor doesn't even notice the insecurities you're having over your body, too busy learning how to be a proper father
No amount of parenting books could prepare him for the overwhelming love he feels for his children
It takes so much effort for him to even put his children down and leave a room- you don't understand
Bedtime is hard for papa too
But little things about you start to tip him off that something has been wrong with you lately
At first, he blames it on lack of sleep, which is something you both are becoming familiar with
Or maybe you're not eating right, too busy looking out for your babies and the hotel
He just knows that you won't hardly let him touch you anymore, something he didn't realize he craved until he was suddenly deprived of it
You're sitting and feeding the babies? He wants to kiss and nuzzle at your neck because the sight is so cute
"Motherhood looks very good on you, darling~"
At first you're receptive to it, tilting your head and sighing happily until his fingers ghost over your stomach
"Actually, can you take over for me? I have to go-do something."
And he's left alone with his just as confused looking children
Then suddenly, there's baby food being thrown at his face and his babies are howling with joy
Lovely
Maybe you're stressed, being a new mother is difficult
So he resolves to take the babies off your hands for the day, something that you're grateful for
And when he manages to put his spawns down for a nap, he even draws you a bath, thinking you two could share it
It's a romantic one, bubbles and candles all around maybe even a flower or two
"Darling, there's a hot bath waiting for you and I if you're interested..?"
You're visibly stiff again, looking uncomfortable and shy like back when you first got together with him
"Could I just have the bath to myself..?"
It wasn't what he was planning, but he could never tell you no
But it is concerning to him when you lock the door behind you
You don't even change in front of him anymore, another little bit of intimacy and trust that he suddenly misses
Then he starts to notice that the mirror in your bedroom has been covered, and new creams have appeared in the bathroom and-
Oh
Carrying babies does tend to change one's body
He's seen what happened with your own but he never thought you would become insecure about it
So Alastor, being the good husband he is, resolves to remedy the situation between you two
He crawls into bed with you one night, waiting until you're nearly asleep to wrap his arms around you
You're jolted awake in an instant, feeling his chest against your back and his hands on your stomach
Touching and stroking your stretch marks
You go to pull away but his grip is firm, keeping you in place, voice light but genuine
"You're never not going to be my beautiful wife..."
You're so thankful for the darkness of the room, you don't want him to see the tears in your eyes or the marks on your stomach
Even though a small part of you knows he can see it anyways, it's less embarrassing for you
Damn these hormones of yours, your body still hasn't fully recovered from your pregnancy
And then he's rolling on top of you, kissing down your neck to your chest, then down to your stomach
His hands push up your pajamas to expose your skin to him, and you can tell that he doesn't need the light to see what's there
He stops you from covering the marks, kissing them instead and gazing at you with eyes full of warmth
"You were so proud of these before..."
You have to look away from him, overcome with emotions so strong that your voice comes out thick with it
"I'm not pregnant anymore."
"As if that makes you any less beautiful, these are just marks of our history together. I love them."
And he's kissing them again, moving back up to kiss you as gentle claws rub over each stretch mark and scar
You eventually can't help but melt into his touch, having missed him more than you realized
It's a good night between you two and you wake up feeling better than you have in awhile
It's still a slow going process accepting your new body, but Alastor is patient, eager to woo his wife all over again
It's almost like you two are back to the start of the relationship
You know that part of him only loves the marks so much because it's proof of what he did for you, how far he would go to make you happy
Also, because he loves you
And soon you start to love them too, associating them with your love for your family
Eventually you two are back to bathing together, changing together, being sickeningly affectionate behind closed doors
Not always behind closed doors
And when they do start to fade you almost miss them, rubbing over the marks in longing
Looking over at your husband playing with the children, a dangerous thought enters your mind
Maybe Alastor wouldn't mind another baby or two?
Maybe more
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I love these asks so much ♥️
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soaqrudyz · 10 months
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i am of the firm belief that neither ghost or gaz cared very much for soap when he first joined the 141
gaz had never met him before, all he knew was the guy was just a little bit of a prick. he was incredibly talented, gaz would give him that, and he’d never been outwardly rude to anyone that gaz had heard of, but oftentimes his confidence bled into something just short of arrogance, soap always seemed to be the one ranting and raving about his achievements when everyone else spoke of their mistakes. in layman’s terms: he was full of himself in a way that would surely get him killed.
ghost; however, had met him before. they’d worked together some three times before price recruited soap. ghost knew of his skill, knew that sunny disposition got quieter at night when soap thought he was alone, knew soap would thrive with them; but god, if ghost could shove his thumbs into those all-seeing, all-knowing crystal eyes he’d do so in a heartbeat. he hated the way they seemed to burn straight through the heavy material of his mask, how they could look into his own eyes and hold infinite knowledge of his broken psyche by the time they flick to some other uninteresting member of his former squadron. it was horror, to be understood so wholly.
but then gaz got hurt, four days of medically induced coma hurt, and when he jerked awake at, if the clock on the shitty hospital tv was to be believed, 2 in the morning there was soap. he looked disheveled: hair a tangled mess, dark circles only worsened by the shadows of the mostly unlit room, and covered in scattered butterfly sutures. his head was leaned on his bicep, slumped over the lowered tray connected to gaz’s bed.
under his head were the blood and tear stained pages of his open journal, a gorgeous portrait of gaz sketched onto the yellowed sheets with sleep deprived rantings in the margins on how soap could have saved him if he’d just been quicker. gaz slips it out from under him, only feeling a tiny bit like an ass for flipping through the leather bound soul of his comrade, but soap had stolen his favorite shirt so it stood to reason he should take something back. the entire 141 is scribbled on in the pages, buried between bomb schematics and scenic landscapes and soap’s scrawled insecurities. something shifts as he soaks in the words, months of feeling like an outsider and desperate tries to be as good as his teammates.
it’s different, gaz thinks as he flips back to his own face, being in the mind of john mactavish.
but then ghost is walking past price’s office and soap bursts out, pushing past him with flushed cheeks and hurried apologies, practically sprinting in the direction of his shared room. ghost, loathe to admit it, was worried, afraid that the first real human connection aside from garrick he’d had in years was going to ripped from him before he’d even started putting time into it. he didn’t want to lose something good, not again, so he follows him, rushes to catch him before he slams the door in ghost’s face.
soap’s shoving clothes into his duffle when ghost slips inside his room, noticeably holding back tears as he rambles to himself. for a minute ghost is stuck, unused to such blatantly shown emotion, but then he takes a step, sets a gentle hand on soap’s shoulder and asks what’s going on, heart thudding against his ribcage.
“my ma..” soap croakes, and heavy sobs break up whatever else he was going to say. he doesn’t have to, ghost knows, probably better than anyone else.he does the first thing that comes to mind: he drags soap into his chest, wraps his whole body around him like he can protect soap from the hurt. the sergeant doesn’t deserve to feel that hollowness in his chest. soap crashes into him like a wave to the shore, balling his hands into ghost’s hoodie and hiding his face in ghost’s collarbones. ghost had never been one for physical closeness, but there was something different about being in johnny’s arms.
there was an obvious difference in their demeanor toward him in the weeks to come, but neither really cared about how it happened, just that it did, and now they can seek each other’s warm, pink tinted gaze when soap makes a fool of himself.
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zzprompto · 7 months
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☆ the shared bath
geto suguru x male reader [he / him]
sypnosis: two dudes, [name] and suguru, share a totally 100% platonic bath after [name] notices something off about suguru. (meant to be viewed as romantic. happens before the things suguru does, au where everything turns out to be okay?)
the lowercase is intentional !
- brief mentions of nudity (because it's a bath) but no nsfw.
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it was the little things [name] seemed to notice first. the way suguru started talking less, how he started wearing his hair up instead of down and how he started to grow bags under his eyes. [name] started to worry, but who wouldn't? sure, [name] wasn't the closest to suguru, that title was reserved for gojo satoru and gojo satoru only, but he was still quite close with the ravenette.
[name] couldn't help but worry. whenever he saw suguru around school grounds, he could feel his heart ache inside his chest and his stomach turn. the poor boy hoped his friend was alright, but that really didn't seem like the case. it was almost as if there was something bugging suguru, but he couldn't tell anyone. maybe he was too afraid? too standoffish to ask for help? whatever it was, [name] was determined to help his friend.
[name] spotted suguru alone on campus, so he walked up to him. it was weird to see suguru alone and without satoru, the two were independent. they were always together, but that didn't seem like the case anymore. it was probably the thing that was bugging suguru caused him to drift apart from satoru is what [name] thought. but, he didn't know the truth.
[name] walked over to suguru and stopped infront of him. "hey.. are you good?" he asked in a soft voice, trying not to startle the ravenette. suguru just looked at [name] and sighed. "i'm fine." is all he replied with in a bored, monotone voice. it seemed clear that suguru didn't want to talk about his feelings, but [name] was still worried. he wanted to find out what was truly wrong.
of course, [name] didn't want to be so persistant that he didn't get an answer from suguru at all, so he had to be creative. the first thing that came into his mind was.. a bath. just him and suguru sharing a bath whilst talking about their feelings. that doesn't sound gay at all..
"do you want to take a bath with me? we can catch up whilst soaking in some bubbles and what not." [name] suggests, a smile on his face as he spoke. suguru thought his ears were deceiving him for a second. did he really hear what he thought he heard? or was his mind playing tricks on him due to his sleep deprivation?
suguru's face contorted and twisted into that of confusion. he looked at [name] with that exact expression on his face. "what? a bath? that's a bit odd, don't you think?" suguru sighed, shaking his head at [name]'s suggestion. although out loud he said the idea was odd, on the inside his heart was racing. he never would've thought [name] would be the type of person to suggest a bath, an intimate one at that where they'd be discussing their feelings together. it was all a shock, but suguru found it quite romantic.
[name] immediately realises how weird taking a bath with another guy sounds, especially since both him and suguru are teenagers, on the verge of adulthood. "oh! right.. right.. uhm.. my bad.." [name] chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his head and looking away from suguru. oh how stupid he was for thinking such a thing.
"..i'm not opposed to the idea, however." suguru clears his throat, also looking away from [name]'s direction. "i guess it would be nice to take a warm bath and catch up." suguru continues, his voice quiet and low as he's still flustered by the suggestion. maybe he was reading into it too much? but it was too late now, he already accepted the offer.
[name] perks up and he looks at suguru again, his previous smile creeping back up on his face. quickly, [name] takes suguru's arm and he starts dragging the poor boy to the baths. he already heard suguru say he 'wasn't opposed to the idea', so there's nothing stopping [name] now. he felt some sort of excitement rush over him, mixed with another feeling that he didn't know how to name. it was like he wanted to see suguru, topless, in the bath. but that was normal, right? it's normal to want to see another guy's body, right? it's totally not gay..
after a few long moments of [name] dragging suguru by the arm, the two boys finally reached the baths. [name] started to run the water, turning a mixture of the hot and cold taps before it was the optimum temperature. he then took one of the shower gels that was laying on the side of the bath, before squeezing a bit in the bath, waiting for bubbles to start forming. the bath wasn't big, but it wasn't too small. [name] hoped it would fit him and suguru, and possibly leave some space for the two of them. yet, he wouldn't mind being right besides suguru in the bath.
[name] looked at suguru with a smile. "well, the bath's running now. i guess it's time to get in." he hummed before turning around and taking his uniform off. as much as [name] wanted to watch suguru get changed, for some odd reason that didn't click in his mind yet, he gave suguru a little privacy and didn't watch. [name] got dressed pretty fast himself and he got into the water, waiting for suguru to get in too.
suguru took a little longer getting undressed. he was pretty nervous and flustered about the whole ordeal. suguru was about to be in a bath with someone he likes, close to this guy when they're both naked and the other guy doesn't see a problem with it! it didn't help that [name] was going to ask questions about what's wrong with suguru, it just made the whole moment feel like it was going to be more intimate than intended.
soon enough, [name] could hear suguru enter the water beside him. [name] turned off the taps and he looked to suguru with a smile. "the water's nice, don't you think?" he asked, trying to make some sort of small talk despite this awkwardly-romantic situation. this was meant to be a moment that couples shared. so why was it that two boys, who have not confronted their feelings about eachother yet, are sharing such a moment?
suguru just hums and nods along to [name]'s question, looking down at the water to try and avoid his gaze. it was all too much for his heart, there was only so much it could handle. "yeah.. the water's nice. thanks for.. asking me to come here with you? i don't know what else to say.." suguru muttered, definitely not knowing what else to say.
"i was worried about you, y'know? i mean, i still am, but i'm worried about you. i'm always worried about you, even when there's nothing to worry about." [name] explains, his brain going fuzzy after repeating the word 'worry' too many times. he's still gazing over at suguru with a small smile on his face. "i care about you a lot, even if it doesn't look like that. i just want you to know that." [name] admits, and it's not making suguru's heart feel any better. suguru feels as if his heart is going to leap out of his chest and drown in the bath.
suguru thinks for a moment, trying to recollect his thoughts and words before he can say anything in response to [name]. "hm.. thank you, [name]. i appreciate how much you care and worry, it means.. a lot." suguru whispers, making the shared bath more and more intimate by the second. "i've just been thinking a lot lately about everything that's happened, i forgot to stop and see that people around me care. everything with amanai, haibara.. it's all piled up. i feel like i have to carry this weight on my shoulders, like i'm alone.. i want to do something about it.." suguru admitted before pausing. he didn't want to tell the truth about what he thought of doing, it would just lead [name] to hate him.
then, suguru heard the water sloshing and splashing about until he felt something wrap around him. it was [name], of course. [name] pulled suguru into a hug, holding him as close as he could. "i'm sorry, suguru. i'm sorry that you feel that way.." [name] whispers to suguru. "you're not alone.. you have us. gojo, shoko.. and me." [name] sighed, resting against suguru's shoulder as he continued to hug the other boy. "we're always here so you can talk to us. i'm here for you, always." [name] whispers and it plays in suguru's mind over and over again. suguru just wanted to kiss [name] so badly. [name]'s words were so intimate, yet [name] didn't even know the effect he had on suguru.
suguru hums and he rests his chin on the top of [name]'s head, reciprocating the hug. "thank you again, [name]. your words reassure me. i needed that, a lot." suguru sighed, continuing to hold [name] in his arms as [name] held suguru in his own.
"i really want to kiss you.." suguru confessed in a whisper, his cheeks immediately going a light pink instead of pale as he spoke. [name]'s eyes opened wide and he backed away from the hug slightly, some water tipping out of the bath tub. "what? what did you say? you want to kiss me?" [name] was taken aback, but he should've seen it coming. he was the one who suggsted such a romantic and intimate thing such as a bath in the first place.
yet, [name] didn't back away. he wasn't afraid of his feelings anymore. he leaned in closer to suguru to the point where their noses were almost touching. "do it, then. kiss me." [name] whispered back, hoping suguru would kiss him.
...and kiss him he did.
suguru leaned in, just as [name] did, and he finally made their lips meet. it felt like heaven. both boys were just melting at eachother's touch. all the unspoken feelings coming to light as they stayed in the bath. it was perfect, better than anything the boys could've imagined.
once the two of them pulled away, suguru was smiling so much that his cheeks start to hurt. "that was.. great." he whispered before pulling [name] in for another kiss, which [name] gladly accepted.
the two boys kept kissing in the bath, smiling and laughing. all in all, they were just enjoying eachother's company for what felt like the first time in years. it was great.
"do you want to go and grab food with me someday?" geto asked, grinning slightly as he looked at [name]. "as in a date?" [name] tilted his head to which suguru nodded in response. "sure, sounds good to me." [name] hummed, holding suguru close in a hug again.
as the weeks, months and years went past, shoko and gojo never stopped teasing the two. suguru and [name] could never catch a break. but, it all happened because of the shared bath. the bath [name] and suguru were so glad they shared...
☆ author's note: i feel like writing a highschool au gojo..
☆ request ▪︎ masterlist
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zepskies · 9 months
Note
This is more of a Sam and Dean request than a reader and Dean request but what about Sam having a crush on Dean's gf? How would he react to that, I am honestly CRAVING angst and this is the angstiest, is that a word, thing I could think of, I am so sorry if you don't like angst or this makes you uncomfortable!!!
Oh my God. You killed me with this one, hun. 😫😫 I have another SB imagine coming next week, but I thought I'd put out this one for Dean to break it up a bit.
Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,500
Imagine: You are Dean's one exception.
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Sam knows it's wrong.
You're smart, with a degree in history that aids them well on hunts.
You're sharp, with a smart mouth that rivals Dean's (and keeps him on his toes).
But you're also kind. You take care of him and Dean with all the feminine grace and care they've never had in their lives.
Sam realizes it when he's up until 3 a.m. in the bunker's War Room. He's sat at the table, researching, eyes bleary, hands cramping from turning pages. And he finds a mug of hot tea sliding next to his idle hand on the table.
You're there with a smile and a hand on his shoulder. "Workin' hard or hardly working?"
Sam clears his throat and nods, chuckles a little. "I'm good." He eyes the mug. "Thanks, though I might need something stronger."
You eye him with gentle reproach. "Nope. Green tea is better for you this late at night. You really should go to sleep, Sam."
Sam tacitly agrees, but only because he can feel the warmth of your hand through his clothing, and it makes his face warmer than the tea. He watches you walk away, notices the curve of your ass in those little shorts. He can imagine your warm hands on his body, caressing him. He can imagine letting his lips graze your skin, exploring you, then devouring you.
And that's when his thoughts stutter to a halt. Sam inwardly cringes.
Despite his sleep-deprived brain, he's reminded that you're traveling down the hall to the room you share with his brother, and for Sam, it's nothing short of torture.
Because he realizes then that he isn't just fond of you. He doesn't love you like an older brother, or even a quasi-brother-in-law. He wants you.
Again, Sam knows it's wrong...but he can't help it. It's one of the saddest cliches in the fucking book. You're his brother's girl, and he wants you for himself.
And it's getting harder to hide it from Dean. They know each other too well -- a result of having no one but each other, but more practically, having lived in such close quarters for so long before they discovered the bunker.
When Sam gets hurt on a hunt, the cut is at a bad angle. He can't quite reach, so you dutifully come around and gently move his hand out of the way to do the stitch yourself. You tsk at him in playful disappointment. "I swear, it's a wonder you and Dean aren't walking patchwork quilts at this point."
Sam chuckles through his nose, wincing when the movement pulls on the stitch. You shoot him a stern look. "Stop moving."
"You're the one making me laugh!" he says, smiling incredulously.
"I don't accept excuses," you retort. "Keep still, please."
"Yes, ma'am," Sam says, his breath hitching for a different reason as he feels your soft hands along his side. He plays it off as pain. "Sorry," you murmur more sincerely. He tells you it's okay. His gaze flicks up, unconsciously finding Dean's face across the room.
He's just finished cleaning a cut on his hand. But he's been watching; Sam can tell. Dean's too perceptive not to notice Sam's discomfort. He probably even knows why. Sam can see a glint of it in Dean's eyes, the stoic front of his face.
"There we go!" you say in satisfaction, and you pat Sam's bare arm. He gives you a wan smile. "Thanks."
"You done, sweetheart?" Dean asks. You get up from your seat by Sam. "What do you need?" you ask.
"You. Come 'ere," he says with a smile, giving you a beckoning finger. "I felt that knot on the back of your head earlier. Think you're slick?"
You huff, but you also smile, in the way you only do for Dean. Sam watches you get up and go to Dean, who touches your cheek, stroking with a thumb first. Then he parts your hair to inspect the back of your head, and you wince a bit. You did fall pretty hard, now that Sam thinks of it. He frowns.
Dean lets out a deep breath. "You've got a nasty bump. You're taking it easy tonight, got it?"
"Yeah? Gonna help me relax?" you whisper. But Sam still hears you, because apparently no one taught you how the hell to whisper.
Dean smirks. "Watch it. I'll think you're flirting with me."
You give him a coy smile as your hand travels up his chest, between the open edges of his plaid shirt, then all the way down, to tease at his belt. "Believe me, when I do, you'll be the first one to know."
Dean's smirk deepens, but his eyes are softer. He closes a hand around yours and brings it to his lips. You lean up and request, wordlessly, for a kiss. Dean obliges you, capturing your lips with a soft kiss.
He eventually breaks from you, only to press his lips to your forehead next, closing his eyes with a sigh. He doesn't like it when you try to hide your injuries from him. You just don't want him to worry so much.
You smile and rest against his chest afterwards. It's clear as day what your heart holds.
It's hard for Sam to watch. His throat constricts, but he takes pains to avert his gaze.
He's so full to the brim with this that he sees no other recourse. He catches Dean alone in the kitchen and tries to make a confession. "Dean, we need to talk."
"Can it wait 'til I'm done?" Dean's plating up some stovetop mac and cheese -- your favorite.
"You're done cooking," Sam points out. Dean looks up at him. "We're doing a little dinner in bed situation. I made her promise to take it easy."
Sam admires the way Dean takes care of you. He really does. But it's also like a small oyster knife twisting in his gut. "Good. I'm glad," is all he says. "Yeah, we can talk later."
"Later" doesn't come for a long time. Weeks, in fact. But every time he tries to broach the problem, Dean finds a way to wiggle out of having the conversation. Always a distraction. A hunt. A fire you almost started in the kitchen. Being "in the middle" of something -- something in the bedroom that you insist needs Dean's immediate attention. Sam gives up for a while after that.
But Winchesters are nothing if not goddamn stubborn. Sam finally catches Dean alone in his room for once. You've gone to the grocery store, leaving the brothers alone in the bunker, but not for long, so Sam needs this chance.
"Dean, can we talk?"
Dean looks up at his brother from where he sits on the edge of his bed. He taps his knee, releases a breath. They both know what this is.
"Are you gonna do more than talk?" Dean asks. It's not what Sam expects. "What?"
"Whatever's on your mind, are you ever gonna do something about it?" Dean asks.
Sam stares back at his brother. He thinks. Hard. He's flipped back and forth for months. If he tells you how he feels, it's over. Things will never be the same between the three of you. It'll confuse you. It might even hurt you. It'll hurt Dean. Sam loves you both, if in very different ways.
So Sam is a bit deflated when he raises his resigned gaze and meets his brother's. "No."
After a moment, Dean nods. "Then we've got nothing to talk about."
But... Sam wants not to want you. Not to love you. Deep, deep down, a large chunk of him feels that he shouldn't have to hide himself. That you have a right to know the depths of what he feels, and what he feels for you.
"I see you're not convinced," Dean says dryly. Sam is silent, until Dean sighs and beckons him over. Sam obliges and sits down next to his older brother, the man he's looked up to (at least metaphorically) his whole life.
"I'd give my life for you. You know that. Right, Sammy?" Dean says. "If I couldn't tear the world apart, I'd lay myself out flat."
Sam sighs. "Dean..." Of fucking course he knows that. Dean already had given his life for him once. Remembering that only adds to Sam's guilt.
Dean meets Sam's gaze directly then. "But this is where I draw the line. She's my line," he says. His face is almost stoic, but his eyes are filled with unyielding fire. "I'm not layin' down on that. Not for you. Not for anyone."
Sam's heart clenches with every kind of pain, but he's also never respected his brother more. He nods. "I get it."
"No, you really fucking don't," Dean says. He's more than serious. "I mean it, Sam. I'll break your damn nose."
After a long moment, Sam nods. He knew Dean loved you. Of course he did. But this is the first time Sam truly understands how deeply. How completely. It's more than jealousy can fathom.
Sam realizes then that he lost, even before he began.
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AN: Whew! 😮‍💨 I got way deeper into this than I expected to. Poor Sam. 😭 But I hope this scratched your angsty itch, my dear!
Read the Sequel
Here's the requested sequel to this: Sam crosses the line.
Also, if you want to read the reverse of this (Dean is in love with Sam's girlfriend): Dean gives you an impossible choice.
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hunnylagoon · 3 months
Text
Take Me to War
PT1 Friendly Fire
Streamer! Ellie Williams x reader
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A writer, I think is someone who pays attention to the world. We are observers, it is in our nature to be off-putting and turn shallow things deep.
Premise: Your neighbour is becoming increasingly loud and you decide to do something about it.
PT 2 Here!
Two things I hate the most?
My neighbour and New York City.
They shared something in common, they never rest. I liked my quiet life in my small town until I was convinced that all of the greatest writers lived in the city, what a joke. I sold my virtue to move to New York and now my body burned with the shame of not belonging.
I worked as a journalist and in advertisement but it didn't fill the gaping mass that consumed me, I felt like a sellout so I quit to do freelance, and now I feel like even more of a sellout. Freelance is making me think that I hate ghostwriting more than I hate my neighbour and New York City.
It's like you do all of the work and get zero reward but I'm desperate to pay the bills and all that stuff I've been telling myself all my life 'I may never be a rich man but the rich man will never have me' well, the rich man most certainly had me. I was paid an almost criminal amount of money to pour my soul into art just for it to get stamped beneath a new name and make a gross income six times the size of what I sold it for.
I look for happiness everywhere but I do not find it. I search for it in things everyone seems to pry joy from; I go clubbing, walk in Central Park, and date around, but happiness doesn't seem to exist there for me.
I plead for it in my morning cups of tea with a spoonful of honey, the sunshine glittering in a puddle after a rainstorm, for a brief moment, it flickers in the light of my cinnamon-scented candle. The truth is I am almost comforted by my sadness and it is in my lowest moments that my creations are the most beautiful, it is like I am dead and I despise those who aren't for I enjoy the company of my silence more than anyone I have ever met.
It was my dream for my name to be above 'New York Times Best Selling Author' but instead, it is just my work beneath it and maybe that's why I'm so bitter.
Right now as I am trying to salvage the bits and pieces I was given by a washed-up pop star for her memoir my neighbour is screaming and laughing incoherently in their apartment, it makes me miss living in an actual house.
The noise usually started up when I would finish up my writing and get ready for bed, then it would go all the way through the night. The dumb fucker probably threw parties every single night; my roommate never faced an issue with this as she worked at a club and was usually working when the deafening noises would begin.
I on the other hand who lived in that apartment and worked from that apartment was always cursed to listen to the random thumps and spats of laughter that sounded all through the night. At least once a night when I'm sound asleep, I hear a bang against the wall and each time without fail, I'm brought awake with my heart thumping.
Trust me, I have retaliated.
On occasion when I'm sleep-deprived and at my absolute limit I'll bang on the walls, that only stops the noise for a minute. I've even complained to my landlord and that one week was heaven until it eased back to the clamour that I've almost grown used to.
Almost.
I still hate it.
I'm broken from my thoughts when my phone rings, it vibrates till it's almost at the edge of my desk and I feel for it; don't worry buddy, I wanna jump too. I read the caller ID and I almost wanted to gag, it was a woman from the publishing company who reached out to me and asked me to write Nicole Elliot's novel. Despite wanting to throw my phone against the wall to stop Noemi's constant checkups and get back at my neighbour while I'm at it, I answer the phone "Hey, Noemi!" I glance out the window where the winter sun has long set, leaving nothing but billboards, street lamps and neon signs to light up the New York night. Under the unforgiving lights I can barely make out the gentle snowfall.
"Hey," She draws it out and I can hear in her voice that she is smiling "I know it's a little late, just checking in, how is the draft coming along?" A loud thump sounds against my wall along with intolerant cackling "What's that?"
"Just some street noise," I dismiss "Anyways, the draft is coming along great, I'm a couple thousand words away from finishing it. I will of course send it to you and I would really love it if you could reach out to Nicole and ask for her opinion on it before I carry on with the final copy," I give a middle finger to my wall, even if my neighbour can't see me, it makes me feel a little bit more formidable "I did follow her outline, which was difficult but I think I salvaged it pretty well."
This time there is a yelp from my neighbour and what sounds like someone slamming their hands down onto a table, Noemi thankfully ignores it "You haven't been in touch with Nicole?"
My eyebrows furrow "She hasn't responded to any of my emails and she's been turning down all of our scheduled Zoom calls, so no, I have not been in touch with her."
"Weird," Noemi comments and there is a brief break of silence between us "She's been M.I.A on our end too," I could hear her scribble something down. "So can you get the draft to me by Friday?"
Two days? If I lock myself inside and don't see the sun then I totally can "Absolutely!" I do work better under a deadline.
"Great," She sounds almost relieved "We will hunt down Nicole, it would be nice to get her greenlight with this but whether or not she approves it, she has already signed off and it will be going to print."
"Okay," I fight the urge to respond with 'sick' or 'aight' because I'm an adult now and someone who is masquerading as a professional.
"Sorry, what was that you mentioned about an outline?" Noemi asks, she sounds more confused with each word "I wasn't aware Nicole made any-
She is swiftly cut off by a crash from the other side of my wall, when I say crash I mean it. It sounded like someone just bodied their car into drywall. My eyes went wide as I saw a crack splitting up my once pristine white wall. I hold my phone against my collarbone as I get up and pound my fist against the wall, giving it a kick for extra measure.
"Is everything alright?"
"Certainly," The nice thing about phone calls is that the person on the other end can't see your awkward habits or subtle outbursts (Or neighbours breaking through your shared wall). After I hit the wall, everything went silent for just a second before laughter sounded heavily from multiple people. "Noemi, thank you for sourcing me out to write this, I am really grateful for this opportunity I will send you that draft on Friday." I try to wrap up the call but she speaks up.
"Well, I've read your work and I was very impressed, I trust you will do well with this. Sorry to have called you so late-
"Thanks, have a nice night now!" I'm talking faster than I can even think, the only thing in my head is the fact that my neighbour is slowly deteriorating my wall.
"Wait-
Before Noemi can finish her sentence, I've hung up the phone. I'm leaning back in my cushy office chair, hands gripping my hair as I stare down the newly formed crack in the wall. I don't entirely like to be confrontational, even in school I hated drama, but I was beginning to think it was necessary.
I saved the progress I had made on the memoir and pushed myself up from my desk. I was clad in nothing more than a t-shirt and some plaid pants, it was my writing attire and in the moment I didn't care much to make a good first impression. It was fucking freezing the second I got up from my desk.
The moulding on my bedroom window was broken which allowed the frigid New York air to slip into my room and make me shiver with each breath. At my desk, I would usually have a throw blanket to shroud my freezing body but the moment I discarded it, I felt regret. I almost wanted to wrap myself in it to confront my neighbour but the pyjamas alone didn't help me look tough.
I did however shove my feet into some cow slippers and march right up to their apartment.
Apartment 2D stood in front of me, the pastel blue door making me angrier with every second that I looked at it. I rapped my knuckles on the wood and crossed my arms to stop me from shuddering.
My nerves built up as I slowly heard a door within the apartment shut followed by footsteps leading to the door. I would just ask them politely to quiet down and calmly work on a way to fix the shared wall that they are slowly ruining.
The door opens and staring me down is a woman. I had expected it to be a man to be truthful. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the colour teetered on the verge of auburn and brown. The woman is clad in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, it's almost parallel to my outfit.
"You need to be quiet," I say the first words that come to mind "And stop assaulting my fucking wall."
She sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "Are you apartment 3D?" She asks to which I nod "I knew you would be stopping by soon." She has this sheepish and almost sardonic smile on her face and despite the amusement she's portraying I can see sadness brewing in her green eyes like a storm.
"I don't know what you're doing in there where you are up all night, I don't even have a clue how you sleep and work with all this time to spare to be a nuisance." I say and then swiftly feel the urge to backtrack "I'm sorry, that was a little rude, but mate, I can't sleep or work when you're being loud doing whatever you do."
"Fuck," She mutters looking back into her apartment and then at me "I'm sorry, I'll keep it down."
"What about the wall?"
Her eyes look me up and down, settling on my cow slippers "I'll find someone to fix the wall."
I press my lips tight together, looking dead into her eyes, scraping my brain for something else to say. It was almost like I wanted to fight. I had expected this to be a full-out conversation that ended in yelling but god she was pretty and she was telling me just what I wanted. "Okay."
"Okay?"
I regard her once more with what I assume is a cold glare before ushering back into my apartment and slamming the door behind me, the whole time, my neighbour watches me from her doorway.
That was the first night of uninterrupted sleep I'd had in a month.
-
I woke up earlier than I would've liked when my roommate Margot came home from work at 4:56 on the dot. She made sure to slam every single door and cupboard before throwing herself onto her bed in all of her makeup and musty clothes that had to endure whatever happens at a nightclub between the hours of 8 pm and 4 am, which I can't imagine is very clean.
Still, even though I was a little ahead of schedule I fell into my morning routine. It started with ignoring my phone, this was followed by a mug of Bengal spice tea with a teaspoon of honey and a splash of cream.
Sometimes I would curl up on the couch, though it snowed last night and I loved fresh snow. Freshly fallen snow absorbed sound, it was like soundproofing for the earth. There wasn't anything like the rare peace you could find in New York. I figured I would have my morning tea on the fire escape.
My peaceful image was destroyed the second I pried my window open and crawled through I was hit with the intense smell of pot. "Shit," I mutter, instinctively wafting the scent away from my nose.
"Sorry, man," I see my neighbour leaning against the railing of the fire escape, nursing a joint. It hadn't crossed my mind that I shared a level of the fire escape with her, I had never seen her out here but now the smell of weed that drifted through the damaged moulding on my window made sense, I had always assumed it to be Margot.
"Joint for breakfast?" I ask, half-joking. A dusting of powdery snow adorns each step and railing, creating a delicate layer of white that contrasts with the industrial gray of the metal though it looks like my neighbour has pushed all of the snow off the platform.
"Nah, for dinner I guess, it helps me sleep," She's in the same outfit from last night, except her hair is now loose around her face and she threw a hoodie over her tanktop.
I furrow my eyebrows "You've been up all night?" The slight tension from the previous night has dissolved completely.
"Yeah," She says it like it was a stupid question and it partially was but I hadn't stayed up that late since New Year only because I was the designated driver and was in charge of getting everyone home safe. "I don't sleep much, that's probably why I keep you up all night."
I mean, I'd let her keep me up in other ways "Honestly, I've gotten used to it, it's almost like white noise." I try to sympathize even if it isn’t necessarily true.
"Next time I'm loud, you have every right to bang on my door and chew me out." She takes a drag from her joint and I watch as the smoke escapes her lips, her cheeks tinted pink from the cold.
"Good to know," I glance behind her at the open window and all I see are purple LED lights cutting through the darkness of her apartment. "Now I know that we share a fire escape I'll just crawl through your window and yell at you that way," I joke, taking a sip from my snoopy mug.
This makes her laugh in the slightest, she crushes what remains of her joint on the cold railing and tosses the bud into the pot of a dead plant that's covered in snow and has lived on this fire escape long before I moved in; one time I just about removed it but I felt bad, it's like I was evicting it from its rightful home "Feel free."
"Am I allowed to ask why you're up all night breaking the sound barriers?" I ask, pulling my fuzzy robe tighter around my body to fight the bitter air. "Are you the leader of a cult? Would it be better for the world in the long run if I push you right now?"
The corners of her lips curl up into a smile once again "You've figured me out, just know I've got some big plans with Koolaid," She plays into my teasing.
"It was flavour-aid, actually." I don't know why I said that.
"What the fuck is flavour-aid?"
"Koolaid basically," Silence stretches between us "So what do you actually do all night?"
"It's a bit complicated," She says, of course, it was complicated. "I work from home," She couldn't do something normal, she probably did voice acting or ran a podcast or some weird shit like that.
"Sick," Don't worry, I made myself cringe when I said that too "I work from home too."
"Yeah, you said something about work last night, are you in marketing?"
I shake my head "I'm a writer," every time I tell someone that, I feel a twinge of embarrassment. I know it wasn't a noble career like my parents had hounded me over, but it felt noble to me. I had two absent parents and was raised by a pack of wolves, I would devour as much food as fast as I could because I didn't know when I would be eating next. I was far too emotional to be around all of the narcissists who preferred their own faces to my company, the only friend I had was the written word.
Since then I have been serving my soul up to strangers through word documents.
The thought makes me homesick for the arms that did not hold me and I truly expect my neighbour to make a mockery of me, the way others have. The way they've told me 'It's a tough industry but hang in there!' and pat me on the back like I'm a hopeful child clinging to her mother's skirts.
"That's really cool," She smiles while she gazes out to the skyline, I can see her perfect side profile and ski-slope nose "I wanted to be a writer, I thought myself to be a poet, and then I thought myself to be a scientist and wanted to be an astronaut. Now, I'm here."
"Where's here exactly?"
"Working things out, figure it out as I go," She shrugs like she is unsure of her answer.
I think it's beautiful how everything around me has been touched by human hands and carries so much history. For a quick moment, my mind wonders to those who built this building, the calloused hands that crafted the iron railing and now my neighbour who was leaning against it. "What's the end goal with this whole freefall thing?"
"To make it out alive."
"And your name?"
"It's Ellie."
-
That night Ellie stuck to being quiet as she promised. The next night was a different story. I was so close to finishing the draft of Nicole Elliot's memoir and was praying that the deadline would pass with no issue.
However, the noise began again. I was coming around to like Ellie and I didn't want to go yell at her again so I shoved my headphones in and turned up my playlist as loud as I could. There is no song I can blast in my headphones to drown it out.
She did say that the next time I was loud I could come and chew her out, I wouldn't do that; I would just knock on her door and quickly tell her that she was being too loud, and then we would both carry on with our respective work.
I stopped in front of the smooth door and raised my hand to knock. Ellie slips the door open just a crack, when she sees that it's me she opens the door. "Hey, Ellie."
"Hello," She smiles "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had a very nice smile.
We both know the circumstances of my visit but I spell it out anyway "Dude, you're way too loud, it's disruptive and I'm working under a deadline."
"I know, I'm sorry." She looks genuinely apologetic.
"I don't know any office job that needs you to scream for hours on end," Alright, that blows what could've been a simple visit where she apologizes and I leave, I always had to add on.
"Right, sorry," She carries herself with so much confidence that it is like she is wearing armour made of gold though she has these subtle awkward tendencies of someone who has never been loved and was forced to improvise. "It's hard to explain,"
"Yeah, you've said-
"Do you wanna come and see?"
I'm taken a little aback and for a minute I think this is all a ploy for Ellie to lock me in her her apartment and kill me because she is sick of her neighbour banging on her door "What?"
"Well, you've asked a couple of times and if you have a minute I can show you."
I pause, mauling over her proposal. I think of my laptop on my spruce desk, open to the final pages of the memoir and I make up my mind "Alright, just not too long."
"If you say so," Ellie opens the door wider for me to move past her and then shuts it behind us.
Ellie's apartment is what I had expected from her even though it is surprisingly nice. She has a large L-shaped sofa in the living room adorned with throw blankets and pillows and a huge flatscreen with a coffee table in front of it. The layout is exactly like mine but inverted, her open kitchen has some odd knick-knacks that looked like they belonged on an Amazon must-haves list.
I don't go into her bathroom and the door leading to one of the rooms (What is equivalent to Margot's bedroom) is shut. The apartment itself is pretty sparse aside from little bits and pieces as she only moved in a month prior.
On the left side, I see that purple LED spilling out of what I assume to be her bedroom.
She walks in ahead of me and the second I follow in after her there is one question I have to ask "Ellie, are you a porn-star?" There are entirely too many computers in here. Her desk is set up with one of those fancy triple-screen PCs and she has a laptop placed seemingly randomly on a white loveseat that's pressed against the right wall.
There is one of those galaxy lamps that projects that trippy shit onto your walls and ceiling. The screen of her PC is facing our shared wall and I can see a huge hole where I assume that a loud crash from the other night occurred. Plastered all over the walls are posters from video games and movies, many of which I hadn't seen.
"What?" She sounds nearly offended "No," she grabs a folding chair from the corner of the room and unfolds it beside her black florid office chair. She sits on the folding chair and motions for me to sit in the office chair. "Come, sit."
I hesitantly sit in the chair "Are you going to attack me now?" I ask, getting defensive for no particular reason other than it was in my nature "Because I've read The Outsiders and I'm pretty sure I can fight."
She chuckles "I'm not gonna fight you."
"Because I'd win?"
She furrows her eyebrows but has this look of amusement on her face "Yeah, definitely."
"So what is this?" I motion around at all of her equipment.
Ellie puts one earbud in then hand me the other "Chat," She says, looking dead at the camera clipped onto her PC "This is my neighbour who came to yell at me for being annoying, she has every right."
"Who are you talking to?"
"I'm streaming," She said, clicking something on the screen so it changed, instead showing Ellie and I in front of the camera, I looked absolutely lost next to a rolling chat bar full of jokes that I didn't understand and people saying hello to me.
"So I was right," I turn my attention to Ellie "You are an internet person."
"Yeah, I'm an internet person but you weren't right, I don't do porn."
"Not yet," I shrug "Times are desperate," To this, the chats come in even faster than before. "So do you just sit here all night and scream at people?"
"I play video games and do challenges, sometimes I do just sit here and scream at them."
"That makes so much sense," I say "If there's any job that needs you to be obnoxiously loud and annoying, it's a youtube personality."
"Okay, well-
"So you're like Logan Paul?"
Her eyes go wide "No-
"What explains why your eyes are so bloodshot."
"You are a writer," She says it like it's a fact I wasn't aware of "You are in no place to judge, you probably spend as much time in front of a screen as me."
I nod "I hate to say you're right," My attention shifts to the hole behind me "Can you explain how playing video games put a hole through the wall?"
Ellie looks almost embarrassed, she doesn't say anything in response, instead, she just clicks something to screen share with us in a little box in the corner and then goes into YouTube. She types in 'Ellie Williams falls through wall' My eyebrows furrow as I read it, and she clicks the first video that pops up.
The video starts off strong; Ellie is cackling at something that her friend off-camera is saying, her friend then makes a comment that makes her laugh even harder and she throws herself back in her chair. This act breaks it, you can hear the chair snap beneath the pressure and Ellie just lets it happen as the chair crashes against the wall. Her eyes go wide when she realizes she's just put a massive hole into the wall and seconds later you can hear me on the other side banging my hands on the wall. Her eyes go wide and she stares at her friend off-camera, all of the laughter stops abruptly before her friend can't hold it in anymore and erupts in chortles, and the video cuts off.
My hand flies over my mouth to fight back the laughter I so badly want to let out. Ellie and I sit wordlessly, the only sound being donations on the screen and my giggles slipping through. Eventually, I manage to compose myself and look to Ellie, I don't have much to say except for "Oh my god."
A/N: Streamer! Ellie won the poll so here we are. As I was drafting out the other chapters for When I Was Your Girl, I decided that it is most likely to be discontinued unless I do a rewrite which will not be in the near future. I’m not rocking with the plot and there was a lot of mixed feedback, sorry if you were invested I guess, but you have this series to be invested in now!
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snaileer · 7 months
Text
Everyone Loves a 2-for-1 Sale Part 3
Part 1 & 2 (And original Prompt)
The dining room was suspiciously quiet for a Wayne breakfast when Danny walked in.
He glanced up from his phone, pulling one earbud out, “Oh feel free to continue arguing my morality like I’m an object, my music’s on full volume.”
Dick looked uncomfortable, “We weren’t-Look, Ti- Danny, we are just a bit curious as to why you’re…. here,” Dick finished, glancing at the others like asking if they’d share the plate of batguilt-fries with him.
“Surely the world could have done without a second Drake,” Damian cut in before Danny could even start.
“And we could have done without even one of you, yet here you are,” Danny glared, “Factory defects and all.”
Damian jerked upwards with a raised knife, narrowly pushed back down by Dick.
Danny rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his phone-Tim’s phone-their phone. He held a folded paper out to Bruce with two fingers, still typing, “I have a list, if you want it.”
He continued typing as they opening the note and read it, he knew what it said.
To Do in Gotham:
1. Get to Gotham
2. Find original - don’t freak family out
3. -Find- Talk to Bruce
4. Convince Vicki Vale that Tim is/ actually engaged to Tam Fox
5. Get safe house
6. New identity? (what do clones do? - ask Connor)
7.
8.
9. Leave?
“What’s number seven and eight?” Dick asked, and Danny actively made sure his typing pattern didn’t change.
“Don’t know yet,” He answered with a shrug, the picture of nonchalance. Bruce probably didn’t believe him.
Didn’t matter. Dick did. Because Dick felt guilty.
Bat guilty.
About time he believed him about something.
And Danny didn’t care about Damian’s opinions one way or another.
He stepped away from the table, plopping another grape in his mouth as he walked past, “Welp that’s it for me, busy day, fake engagement, gotta find some crutches because I don’t think Vicki will accept my ‘you got new legs Lieutenant Dan-ny’ joke, all that,”
Danny slipped out the door past a sleep-deprived Tim with a jaunty salute, “All’s well in Clone Town!”
Danny kept walking, his brain running miles ahead of him, Ted Tobin steering the wheel with his fingers on the keypad of his phone as he moved forward and mentally filled in the list.
Number 7: Find Ra’s Al Ghul and the Lazarus pits.
Number 8: Stabilize yourself.
Danny continued up the stairs. He had people to see and rings to buy. Busy is the life of a saboteur.
Red Robin watched his clone linger in the jeweler’s store, trying to keep the frown from taking over his whole face.
He was making Tim’s life difficult. Tim suspected it was on purpose.
Largely because people would ask way too many questions if two Tim Drakes showed up in Gotham at the same time.
Hence, Red Robin being relegated to rooftop surveillance.
He turned his attention back to the clone, watching as he left the shop and turned down the street. Red Robin swept after him, following from above.
The clone remained focused on his phone- which was also Tim’s by the way, and stolen- as he walked down the street, turning into an alley without even looking up.
Tim tilted his head and swung to the rooftop, peering into the darkness.
“You could always just come down and actually talk to me, you know?”
Tim dropped into the alley, unsurprised to come face to face with the clone. It was weird to see his own face look so annoyed by him.
“Thought it was best to stay out of sight. We’re not exactly a daylight hero.”
Danny rolled his eyes, “Already annoyed with Vicki Vale?”
Tim nearly growled, “That is your fault,”
“Oh come on, you can’t tell me it’s not hilarious.”
“You’ve spent all morning in ring shops! I have meetings!”
“Lucius can handle them. It’s not like we actually did anything this last year anyways.”
Tim stared at him for a second, confusion in the squint of his eyes and laced with suspicion.
Danny groaned with a roll of his eyes, “Fine, you want me to stay put somewhere so you can do your civilian thing?”
“Yes.”
“I am not staying in the manor. You can’t make me.”
Dread filled him as Tim smiled, “Not a problem.”
Danny glared at Tim standing arms wide in the center of the room of his emptiest safe house, “This is so not what I meant and you know it.”
Tim’s face betrayed nothing, “Look, none of us are happy with this situation-“
Danny scoffed. Understatement of the century.
“But..” Tim continued with a pointed look, “It’s my fault, and I get that. So…compromise? You stay here, work on cold cases while I sort out my current job, and when I’m done, we’ll figure out what to do, okay?”
Danny sighed, feeling Ted Tobin stir to life with plans already forming.
“Fine.”
Tim nodded succinctly, reaching for a laptop and multiple cords, “Ok, here’s my old computer, -huh, I could have sworn that had a different charger- anyways- I’ll take this,” he plucks the phone from Danny’s hands in one smooth motion, giving a mocking smile in return to Danny’s glare, “Thank you very much, now I just have to-and find the guy who…”
Tim’s voice tapers off into mumbles as he heads into the bedroom to peel off his suit, fingers focused on the keypad of his newly reacquired phone.
Danny slumps himself down on the secondhand couch, dust echoing around him. This was fine, he could do stuff in the meanwhile, maybe help Tim with his case -or solve it himself, he bets he could- and then finish the new specs for the suit wings that Danny’s suit still didn’t have.
Tim fumbled through the doorway, now in civilian clothes, already on a call with Lucius probably, or Tam. Tam helped him a lot.
Danny slouched further into the silence.
It felt like being left behind by his parents.
They had bigger priorities.
Archaeology.
Ghosts.
Danny shook his head, opening the computer and letting Ted Tobin fish through the passwords for case files.
He’s nearly 3 hours deep when he really pauses for the first time, finally stopping the continuous notes sitting next him, each a different clue. Most for different cases.
The current case pulled up on his screen scratches at him, facts slotting into place with rapid fire precision.
The officer assigned to the case is a vet.
The case is perpetrated by a senatorial candidate.
The officer assigned served on three active fronts and 2 undisclosed.
The guilty candidate is running support for a bill cutting veteran supports.
Best of all?
It’s not in Gotham.
Danny smiles as Ted Tobin’s plan fills in, piece by piece.
Ra’s Al Ghul should really make it harder to hack into his confidential back market mercenary dealings.
Then again, maybe it was for the better. How else would he make sure Red Robin was able to intercept the assassin in time to save that poor officer’s life the night before his case-closing arrest?
“Detective, I assumed holding my business outside of Gotham would keep it from being the concern of you and yours,” Ra’s’ voice is muffled through the bag over his head, “It seems I was wrong.”
“Oh well, you know me…,” The bag is ripped roughly off his head, leaving him blinking rapidly against the light even as he smirks, “Always butting into things when I shouldn’t. It’s kind of what we do.”
“Tell me, Timothy,” Ra’s says, turning his back to him once more, as he waves his ninjas away, “What does this officer matter to you, more than a state away from your usual stomping grounds? What-“ Ra’s pauses as a different ninja approaches him to whisper in his ear. His body stills.
“Well, we’ll start there. First of all, as I’m sure you just found out, I’m not Timothy,” Danny says, standing up smoothly. He relishes the look Ra’s gives him as he turns around. “And secondly, the officer wasn’t what mattered. Getting you here on the other hand. Now that.. that takes a little more planning.” Danny brushes himself off, removing the cowl to leave just his own domino behind.
Ra’s al Ghul hums, his eyebrow twitching up even as his eyes narrow in suspicion.
“What? No sudden desire to stab? No impromptu attempt to put a sword through my chest?”
“You are curious. So much like the detective, and yet… my people tell me he is currently patrolling in Gotham with the Grayson boy.”
Danny scoffs, “Oh great, another fruit loop interested in me, like I need a new one of those.”
Ra’s’ stare doesn’t change. Albeit a bit more annoyed, but still flat and calm.
“You wanna know what makes me different from Timothy, Ra’s?” Danny pauses, taking a deep breath and letting the ectoplasm ripple inside him for the first time in months. “The difference between me and him,” When he looks up he knows his eyes glow fluorescent green, “Is that I’m stronger.”
Bonus Scene:
Dick stared at Tim’s clone as he left, sweeping past the original’s bleary form stumbling to the coffee machine.
“Are we sure he’s Drake’s clone? He seems… less of a fool,” Damian sneered, watching Tim stand listlessly in front of the cabinet, coffeemaker off, and tablet in hand.
He looked out of the Dining room doors, spotting Danny standing not far away in front of one of the closets by the stairs rather than the actual steps, fingers tapping away.
Damian turned back to his breakfast, “I retract my statement. Clearly his stupidity was simply blinding.”
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maidragoste · 4 months
Text
I always knew you would come
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Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader
another part of Daemon's Wife au
Summary: You think your husband is going to be angry with you for going to the Stepstones but he surprises you.
REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated. comments always motivate me to continue writing 🥰🥰💖💖
If you have ideas or thoughts for this series you are welcome to share them in my inbox
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
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You paced back and forth inside Daemon's tent as you waited for him to arrive. You were ready to argue with him. You had plenty of anger after listening to the scolding of your father, your uncle, and the concern of your brother, you had deludedly hoped that they would be happier to see you. You wouldn't care what they or your husband told you, you wouldn't come home. You were determined to stay on the Stepstones until the war was over. You couldn't sit idly by for another year in Driftmark and wait for your family to return.
You stopped as soon as you saw Daemon enter. You felt your heart speed up. The first thing you noticed was that he now had his hair a little shorter. You hadn't seen your husband for almost three years. There wasn't a day that you hadn't missed him. You always looked forward to his letters and you hoped that one day one of them would tell you that the war was over but that letter never arrived so you decided to act. You hoped that with your dragon you could be of help because at this rate you doubted that King Viserys would deign to help with anything.
You expected Daemon to yell at you about what the hell you were doing here and that you should be home taking care of your son, like your father had, but to your surprise he strode towards you and pulled you close to him as he smashed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes feeling how all the tension and frustration you felt minutes before disappeared before the warmth of his lips. You kissed him with the same devotion hoping he could feel how much you love him. Your husband's hands left your waist and you were about to complain at the loss of his touch when you felt his hands caressing your hair, he caressed it so softly and with so much affection that for a moment it made you want to cry. You had been deprived of this. You had missed him so much. You wanted it all to be over so he could bring you and Baelon home again.
"How is Baelon?" Daemon asked, breaking the kiss but still stroking your hair. He had spent nights dreaming about you, dreaming about the baby you told him in letters that looked like him, dreaming about waking up next to you and admiring your beauty while caressing your hair, like he used to do before he left for the war.
You were supposed to go to Stepstones with him but then you two found out you were pregnant then you stayed in Driftmark with your mother. Daemon could not accompany you during the pregnancy or be at the birth of his child. But you still decided together on your baby's name by correspondence. At first, you weren't sure about naming him Baelon because you were afraid that Viserys and Rhaenyra would be upset with you for naming your baby after the son and brother they both lost that caused Queen Aemma's death, but your husband told you that he only wanted to name him Baelon in honor his father and you couldn't refuse.
Daemon was also unable to witness how his son grew up, he missed his first steps, his first words, and his name days. Even though he had never met him, he cared about his son.
"He's fine. “He drives me and mom crazy because he doesn't stop running,” you responded with a smile. The affection in your voice was evident and I could see the love in your eyes. “He's obsessed with his dragon like you” you mocked earning a small pinch on your waist and making you let out a small snort “If I don't let him see his dragon before going to sleep he gets in a bad mood” Now he could hear the pride in your voice, evidently his son was not having a hard time bonding with his dragon.
“Definitely a Targaryen,” Daemon said, also feeling proud like you. He wanted to see with his own eyes how his son bonded with his dragon and teach how to care for him, he wanted to be there for Baelon.
“Prince Daemon, they are waiting for you,” a man's voice was heard outside the tent.
“I'll be there in a few minutes,” he responded and it didn't take long for you to hear the man's footsteps walking away. “Come on, we have a war to plan,” he said after giving you one last kiss.
“Do you want me to go to the war council with you?” you asked, clearly surprised.
“Of course, you came to fight with us right?” the prince said without understanding your reaction, gently taking your arm to prevent you from walking away.
"Yes, I came to fight" you responded instantly but you were still confused that he would accept your participation on the battlefield so quickly. "So, you're not upset and you're not going to send me back home to Baelon? You're going to let me fight?"
"I'm sure you once told me that you don't need my permission to do anything," your husband reminded you, arching an eyebrow, still not understanding what you were getting at with this.
"It's true," you said, feeling confident again. "And I'm glad you're clear about that, it's just that I was ready to argue with you. I thought you would tell me the same nonsense that my father and my uncles told me, that I shouldn't be here, that Now I'm a mother so I should go home and take care of Baelon, that's what a good mother would do, that I shouldn't fight, that they don't need my help or Nightwing, that Caraxes and Seasmoke were enough" when you started talking about your family You looked like you were spitting poison.
Daemon frowned, noticing that behind your anger was also pain. He felt furious that someone dared to tell you that you were a bad mother. The worst thing was that it was your own family. He wanted to cut out their tongues but he knew that despite your anger with your family you would never want them to suffer any kind of harm.
"They are idiots for refusing your help, for thinking that you would listen to them and return to Dirftmark without hesitation," he declared. "I'm sure you fight better than some of your father's bannermen and would make them cry on the battlefield," he said. making you smile. You knew he wasn't lying to you just to make you feel better. Daemon was not that kind of person. He didn't give fake compliments and besides every time the two of you faced each other he had never been afraid to be harsh with you "I always knew you would come sooner or later. I know you and I know that you can stand to sit around doing nothing, the birth of Baelon wouldn't going to change that. Besides, it's not like you left our son alone and helpless, you left him with your mother. Don't let those idiots get into your head, you're a good mother" he emphasized the last words, wanting you not to have any doubt about what he thought.
"I'm glad I married you," you said without any shame, happiness lit up your eyes and your smile was warm.
Neither of them knew who was the first to bring their faces closer to the other but it didn't matter because their lips met again. Daemon kissed you as if it were a necessity as if you were the air he needed to breathe and you loved it. You want to stay in his tent and satisfy the insatiable hunger you feel for him. But you can't, there are already people against you staying and if Daemon missed the war council then they would blame you. You would just give them one more reason to keep insisting that you come home.
"Come on, we have a war to plan," you said breaking the kiss and tucking a loose strand of hair behind Daemon's ear.
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Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works
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770 notes · View notes
dixons-sunshine · 1 month
Note
Ok ok ok ok-
I've been struck with a three am idea that I cannot shake so pretty pretty please if your not busy may I request it?
It would be a Daryl x Reader were they are parents of their newborn? Probably set in Alexandria... The baby is up crying and Reader who is very sleep deprived is trying to calm the baby down but nothing is working, and at this point Reader hasn't had a solid nights sleep in a few days? Like, maybe Reader is struggling to put the baby to sleep and the crying starts to get to them and they start crying too? (Not like full on sobs but tears bc their emotional state is damaged from lack of sleep) And Daryl wakes up and helps reader? Like, tucks reader in before taking care of their newborn?
I just can't shake Daryl as a dad he woud try to be the best dad ever just bc he would be so scared to end up like his 'father' 🥺
Please and thank you very much and take care!!
Sleepy Time | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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*GIF isn't mine.*
Summary: Life with a newborn wasn't easy. All of your attention had to go towards the bundle of life you brought into the world, which left you with little time to take care of yourself and even less time to get some much needed sleep. One night, while taking care of your and Daryl's baby girl, the lack of sleep caught up with you and emotions started to bubble over. Luckily, Daryl was there to take care of both you and the baby—the two most important people in his life.
Genre: Fluff, some angst.
Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.
Warnings: Sleep deprivation, self deprecating thoughts, feelings of worthlessness, mentions of Daryl's father and his past abuse.
Word count: 1.9k
A/n: I'm sick at the moment and have no energy to write much, but this request was way too cute to not get done ASAP. I've been wanting to write something about Daddy!Daryl for a while now so this request is a godsend. Thank you so much for it! I hope you like this. And to the people who requested the Daryl x Espinosa!Reader and falling for the new girl requests, please know that they're being worked on. I don't know exactly when they'll be out, but they will be, I promise!
As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.
(I gave the baby a name in this, but feel free to imagine any name you want.)
The moon was shining brightly outside the home you shared with Daryl. The stars were twinkling in the sky and the crickets were chirping. It was a peaceful night and everyone in the community was sleeping soundly.
Everyone but you.
“Shh, sweetheart. It's okay. Mommy's here.”
Despite your reassuring words, your baby girl, Hazel, kept on crying. Her cheeks were red from the tears she shed and her eyes were shut tightly. The sight of your baby in such a state made your heart ache in a way that it has never hurt before.
Nothing you tried could soothe Hazel of her crying. She refused to breastfeed or take her bottle, and her diaper didn't need changing. She didn't appear to be sick and there was nothing that could be hurting her physically, so you were at a lost for what could be troubling her so much. She just kept on crying.
You gently bounced her while rubbing her small back, praying to whatever was out there that you would figure out what was wrong with her. You hated the fact that you couldn't soothe her, feeling useless as she continued to wail. Her cries echoed off the walls of the nursery, the sound deafening.
You hummed a lullaby to her, a last resort in hopes of calming her down. You could feel a lump form in your throat as unwanted tears started to fill your eyes. The lullaby you were humming started sounding choked up as your throat started constricting, trying to withhold the sobs that were busy building up in your chest.
The lack of sleep was busy catching up with you. Not once did you regret your baby girl—Hazel was the physical embodiment of the love you shared with Daryl and you'd die for her—but you desperately needed a full night's sleep. You were barely functioning and that was a problem. How could you take care of your daughter when you could barely take care of yourself?
The sound of the nursery door opening instantly caught your attention, your senses on high alert. You spun around and locked eyes with the love of your life, the familiar blues of his eyes calming you down slightly. The calm you felt was short-lived, however, when Hazel's cries got louder due to the fact that you weren't humming to her anymore.
Daryl furrowed his eyebrows and shut the door, quietly moving to stand beside you. Even in the darkness of the room, he could clearly see the glisten of the tears in your eyes. His heart ached for you, and if it weren't for the fact that you were cradling Hazel, he would've pulled you into a tight hug.
“Wha's wrong?” he asked quietly, putting a hand on your shoulder in the hopes of bringing you some comfort.
You sniffled and willed the tears away, hating the fact that Daryl had to see you in that state. “I don't know,” you replied honestly, gently rocking your baby back and forth. Hazel's cries started to die down a bit, and you were grateful for it. “She won't drink and she doesn't need changing, and she doesn't appear to be sick. She just won't stop crying.”
Daryl's heart broke at the crack in your voice. He wrapped one of his arms around you and brought you into a side hug, placing a kiss on your forehead. “S'alrigh'. We'll figure it out. She'll be okay.”
You sniffled again and nodded, leaning your head against his shoulder. Daryl pressed another kiss to your forehead before motioning for you to hand Hazel over to him. You obliged and carefully transfered her into his arms, your heart swelling at the sight of the father of your daughter, who was a big, burly man, carefully and gently cradling such a small human to his chest. You smiled through your tears, a sense of happiness filling you, even though you were feeling worn down and useless a few moments prior.
A small smile spread across Daryl's face as he gazed down at his baby girl. Hazel's cries had disappeared, small sniffles and the redness of her cheeks the only signs that she had been crying at all. Daryl brought his hand up to gently caress her face, before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against her small forehead.
You smiled at the sight before you, but you couldn't help the feeling of failure that spread through you. You had been up for over an hour trying to soothe her and hadn't succeeded, but then Daryl came in and calmed her down in a matter of seconds. You were grateful for him and the fact that he had managed to let her cries subside, but you couldn't help feeling defeated.
Daryl gently rocked Hazel from side to side before looking up at you. He could immediately see the pained yet immensely tired expression on your face, and he frowned. He didn't know exactly what was going through your head at that moment, but he had a pretty good idea. After he was sure that Hazel's crying had stopped completely for the time being, he grabbed the pacifier from the dresser and popped it into her mouth before gently placing her down in her crib.
Daryl turned to you and offered his hand. “C'mon,” he said simply.
Confused, you grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull you out of the nursery and back into your shared room right across the hall. He tugged you over to the bed and silently urged you to lie down, which you did. Once you were comfortable, he pulled the covers over you and sat down on the edge of the bed next to you.
“Ya okay?” he asked in concern, his voice quiet as he studied your face.
You nodded hesitantly. “I'm fine,” you lied, and Daryl could tell instantly.
��Yer not fine. Wha's up?” he urged softly, leaning forward to brush the hair away from your eyes.
You inhaled sharply, debating whether or not to tell him what you were feeling. In the end, the need to get everything off of your chest overpowered, and you cleared your throat, trying not to tear up again.
“Am I a bad mom?”
That surprised Daryl. He instantly shook his head in denial, taking one of your hands in his. “Nah, course not. Why would ya even think tha'?”
“It's just... I try so hard to be a good mom but I can't even soothe my own daughter when she cries. Nothing I tried worked. She wouldn't stop crying, yet you managed to calm her down in a matter of seconds. If I can't even comfort my own daughter, what type of mom does that make me?”
Daryl sighed softly. He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles soothingly. “Yer not a bad mom. Sometimes babies cry and there ain't nothin' we can do 'bout it. Remember back at the prison when Little Asskicker wouldn't stop crying? It took Rick over an hour to get her to calm down. Would ya say tha' Rick's a bad dad jus' 'cause he couldn't instantly figure out wha' he needed to do to calm her?”
You shook your head. “No.”
“Then stop callin' yerself a bad mom. Yer not. There's gonna be days when Hazel will want ya instead of me, and vice versa. It ain't gonna mean tha' one of us is the better or preferred parent 'cause of it.”
You let out a shaky breath, feeling yourself want to cry all over again, but this time in relief. However, you withheld the urge and instead settled on giving him a small smile, squeezing his hand.
“Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes starting to feel heavier. You let out a small yawn, making Daryl chuckle fondly.
“Get some sleep, 'kay? Ya will feel a lot better in the mornin',” he instructed, leaning forward to place a feathery light kiss on your forehead.
“What about Hazel?” you asked after hearing her start to get fussy again over the baby monitor Daryl had found on a scavenging trip.
“Dun' worry 'bout her. I've got it. Ya jus' get some sleep, 'kay?” he assured you, getting up from the bed to head out to the nursery.
“Okay,” you finally agreed, nodding your head. However, before Daryl could leave, you called out to him.
Daryl turned around and looked at you. “Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Daryl smiled softly, his heart fluttering in his chest. “I love ya too.”
With that, he closed the door behind him and made his way over to the nursery. Once inside, he turned on the little nightlight that Michonne had gifted to you when Hazel was born, walking over to the crib to pick her up. Cradling her to his chest, he walked over to the dresser to grab the still full bottle before making his way over to the rocking chair in the corner of the room.
Daryl sat down and brought the bottle to her mouth. This time, instead of refusing it, she eagerly opened her mouth and latched onto the bottle, starting to drain it of its contents. Daryl laughed at her eagerness, holding her gently against his chest as she drank.
“Delicious?” he asked rhetorically, knowing full well that she couldn't understand what he was saying. “Bet it is.”
Hazel simply kept drinking from the bottle, her hands clutching at Daryl's shirt. Daryl stared down at her fondly, wondering how one tiny human could be so perfect.
“Ya need to go easy on yer mama, y'know?” he started, gently rocking back and forth on the rocking chair. “She might seem like it, but she ain't a superhuman. She needs her sleep, too.”
Daryl paused for a moment, simply admiring his little girl for a moment before continuing. “Yer mama loves ya so much, though. And so do I. We won't let anythin' happen to ya, little one.”
Daryl fell silent after that. He simply took care of his daughter, wondering how he got so lucky. Not only did he have the most amazing wife who loved him unconditionally, but now he had a daughter who he would die to protect. He had a family, something he never would've thought could happen to him before the apocalypse.
Daryl looked up and at the door, envisioning you sleeping peacefully in the room across from him, sleep that you deserved, before looking down at Hazel again. As he stared down at the life he made with you, memories of his own father plagued his mind—memories of his abuse and loveless nature. How he never seemed to have any sort of patience when it regarded his own son, how any sort of crying was met with a physical blow to his face.
Daryl grimaced at the memories and shook his head, willing the memories to go away. He always wondered if his father's abusive ways would be passed down to him, but as he looked at Hazel in his arms, he realised that nothing would ever make him be like his father. He vowed to protect the life he had made with you, the embodiment of your shared love for one another. He vowed to himself that he would never stoop to the cruelty his father had bestowed on him. He would be there for both you and Hazel, through thick and thin, through happiness and heartbreak, for as long as death remained away from him.
He would love the both of you until the day that he let out his last breath.
387 notes · View notes
soobnny · 1 year
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don’t be a stranger — han jisung.
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trope. friends to lovers. college au. u live in the same apartment floor. fluff. part 2 to meet odd.
synopsis. you really need to stop meeting han jisung under odd circumstances or alternatively, i accidentally locked myself out of my apartment and you’re offering that i sleep at yours for the night?
word count. 4.3k words
warnings. mentions of that sex-addict neighbor from the first part, mentions of killing bees, and i think nothing after that except for a few curse words
note. this can definitely stand alone but for it to make more sense, read the first fic here! i’ve finally decided to write a part 2 after popular demand, i hope this was ok!
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A lot has changed since that night at the rundown convenience store with Han Jisung.
For one, your shared neighbor had moved out after the person living in front of her finally had enough of her. Guess they had more courage to confront the problem than you and Jisung combined.
This meant that the solace of your dorm was finally yours again, and you couldn’t be happier for the return of silence and comfort. Since then, you’ve officially said goodbye to Seungmin’s couch and your noise canceling headphones.
And Jisung.
With no reason to leave your dorm at ungodly hours in the morning anymore, the chances of seeing each other grew significantly low until you were back to small “hi”s and “hello”s.
Sadly, letting go of that neighbor had apparently been a package deal with lesser opportunities to talk to Jisung too.
You hate to admit your disappointment in your lack of interaction after that night. While only a month has gone by, that’s still 30 whole days without that shift in your interaction that you thought you’d bear witness to. That night you’d spent with him was a moment you enjoyed and cherished, and you would’ve hoped he felt the same way.
Similarly, Jisung’s been dejected at the lack of you in his life. He bares no shame in admitting that he had, not once, not even twice, but tried multiple times to gather enough courage to knock at your door just to ask you how you’ve been and if you’d like to hangout with him again — sometimes with a tub of ice cream, sometimes with a cup of coffee he had made for you prior.
Like today.
Han Jisung finds his fist ghosting over your door, hot cup of coffee in hand. Knock, just knock on their door, it’s not that hard. Why is it so hard for him?
He stands there for 2 minutes, studying every fragment of wood on your door.
In that time, he overthinks his actions — do you even drink coffee? Maybe the cup he had prepared wasn’t your preference? He should’ve just gotten the same brand of ice cream you shared that night. Did you want to talk to him again?
Cursing to himself, he trashes the cup yet again after having fallen prisoner to his social awkwardness.
Han Jisung has always had trouble making any type of first move. Truthfully, he was only ever able to gather enough courage to ask you out on that walk because the glint in your eyes was so bright after having laughed with him over your shared situation.
And maybe because he was a little sleep-deprived and you looked really pretty sitting next to him, and you were talking to him like you’ve known each other forever.
Something so humanizing tends to bring people together in weird ways, and that’s what had happened that night.
Now, however, with no reason to spend time with you, Jisung has trouble wondering if you had the same eagerness to talk to him again.
Do male leads in romantic comedies also have a hard time talking like he does? He supposes he could always ask Changbin even if he’d be teased and laughed at in good spirit.
Han Jisung would brave through it if it meant getting useful advice to speak to you again.
For now, with the trashed coffee cup, he retreats back to his own room.
Perhaps he could try again tomorrow.
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Jisung recognizes your voice just as the elevator doors open.
He had just gotten back to your apartment after another late night session at the gym with Changbin and Chan — it was their only shared time together, so workouts were always scheduled at night.
With a gym bag slung over his shoulder, he’s about to turn the corner to where your rooms are when he hears you.
Your voice has always been recognizable to him, but this time something else was laced with the way you’re speaking. It isn’t hard to place it as stress, which makes the boy peek in curiosity and concern.
“Seungmin, pick up. Seungmin, pick up. Seungmin! Thank god. Are you at your dorm right now?”
There’s muffled sounds at the end of the line, but your stress seems to grow more and more as the conversation continues. It’s evident in the way your grip tightens around your phone, and you’re pacing back and forth hurriedly, and the way your hand repeatedly moves to run through your hair.
Turns out, Seungmin isn’t at his dorm. He’s gone home for the long weekend, but he tells you Jeongin might be there.
He’ll have to get back to you on that in a couple hours though because Jeongin has a night lecture, and Seungmin can only contact him after that.
Maybe you could kill a few hours in the main lobby – it wasn’t like you were new to that.
Hanging up, you jump back when you see Jisung standing at the end of the hallway, waving shyly at you and bowing in apology.
“Sorry, I must’ve looked like a creep just standing there. I didn’t wanna disrupt the conversation by passing by… I swear, I’m not a creep.”
With a boyish smile, he continues. “I purposefully didn’t pass by because it felt serious. Just in case I ruin the mood by passing by.”
You laugh. “No, it’s okay. You just scared me. How have you been, Jisung?”
Jisung.
He wants you to call him Hannie again.
Still, despite the downgrade in nicknames, he thanks Whomever is Above for the opportunity to talk to you again, even if it was just for a few minutes outside your apartment room.
“I’m great! Just got back from the gym.” He gestures at his bag abashedly, biting down at his lips to control his overenthusiastic tone when talking to you before looking back at you. “Though, I should really ask how you are. You sounded pretty stressed just now.”
“Ah, I was being silly and accidentally locked myself out of my apartment. And I can’t get the spare key from the landlord until tomorrow at earliest. And Seungmin isn’t at his apartment right now, so it’s a whole disaster.”
It’s easy to talk to Jisung about your problems. You feel the same sentiment that nothing ever sounds crazy to Jisung, and it certainly helps that you’ve been through hell and back together trying to survive your previously shared neighbor.
Being locked out of your apartment was basically nothing in comparison to sharing ice cream at the main lobby because your neighbor enjoys having really loud sex.
On the other hand, Jisung has his own conflict in his head.
He’s going over whether it was appropriate or not to invite you over. He could feel his heart pounding straight out of his chest, similar to how it feels when his knuckles are ghosting over your door in attempt of a knock.
“Well… if you really had no other option. You know, my apartment’s just there. And open… for you to stay at, if you want. If you really had no other option, since it’ll be more convenient to you. I’m sorry, is this weird? I’m sorry, forget I said anything.”
Han Jisung is stuttering over his words as he speaks to you, but you think you get the gist of what he’s trying to offer. “No, it’s okay! I wouldn’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable since it’s your space.”
You think he’s feeling pressured to offer since you had shared your problem with him, but you don’t know he’s more than willing to help you out. While Jisung prefers his solitude, he thinks a change of pace for the night wouldn’t hurt.
“I wouldn’t be uncomfortable at all. Actually, maybe YOU would feel uncomfortable, but if you aren’t then it’s really fine!” Then, it’s that boyish smile again and the shy scratching of the nape of his neck and the gentle rock back and forth.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! Positive!”
He ushers you towards his door, repeatedly telling you that it was no problem for him. And just when he’s about to let you in, he falters.
“Oh… actually.” Jisung remains standing in front of his door, unmoving, hand with his keys hovering over the doorknob. “Can you give me a minute?”
“Uh, sure!” You smile at him sweetly, and then he pushes his key into the keyhole, angling the door just enough so you can’t see anything before slipping into his room.
And then a string of curses follows, and a few stumbling?
His footsteps are loud as he rushes around his room, picking up every piece of clothing and dunking them into his laundry bin. His heart drops to his stomach when he catches his boxers lying on the ground, thankful he had come to his senses before letting you come in blindly.
Close one.
With the wrappers of food thrown out and his dirty clothes back in the hamper, Jisung feels more comfortable letting you in. Reopening the door again, he peeks out to check if you’re still there. “Hi.”
“Hi.” You tilt your head, smiling at the sheer cuteness of Han Jisung and his poked out head from the door and the small ‘hi’ he had addressed to you paired with the cutest smile that accentuates his round cheeks.
“It might be a little messy right now, I hope you don’t mind.” He pouts, opening the door enough to let you in, hands behind his back as he scans your reaction nervously.
His apartment space wasn’t any different than yours, probably the same size, but the way he had decorated his living space was so potently Han Jisung – like a room captured directly from his image. It’s not the neatest, but by all means, it wasn’t messy at all. It was a little chaotic in the way it’s decorated, and there’s a whole mini studio setup in the corner of his room, but it all felt like he had taken a piece of his home and brought it with him in this apartment.
What’s even more adorable is the obviousness of the rushed cleaning that had happened minutes prior. You can see some random things poorly hidden around the house, but you’re too busy feeling flustered to think about it much.
“Oh, it looks so home-y. It feels very you.”
A familiar heat climbs onto Jisung’s features at the compliment that slips out of your mouth so easily, and he suddenly feels more proud of his decorating.
He hadn’t always been the most confident in his living space, only inviting his closest friends over because his place was always deemed the most messy of them all possibly due to his chaotic decorating (and because he liked to keep his things lying around where it’s easier to access – to his downfall as he always forgets where he had put his things later on).
But, the small genuine compliment from you had lifted his worries and now he feels he should invite his friends more often.
“Do you want some water? I’ll get you a glass.” As he navigates through the kitchen, you politely settle yourself on his couch and continue to look around at the artwork littering his walls. It’s signed “Hwang Hyunjin” at the bottom, and they’re absolutely beautiful.
Sounds familiar, you think.
“What did you eat for dinner?”
You snap out of your reverie at his question.
“Actually… I haven’t eaten dinner yet.”
“What?” He rushes over to you with the glass of water, looking at you with wide eyes. All you can do is smile at him sheepishly. “You haven’t eaten yet? Why? Were you busy today?”
“I was probably just gonna eat some instant ramen when I arrived.”
Although he does the same, he can’t help but scold you. “Eat your meals well, you have to eat a lot. Come on, I’ll order us some food.”
“Do you have any recommendations?” You scoot closer to where he’s seated, peeking at his phone as he scrolls through food applications to order for you.
“Hmm.. if you mix seaweed soup in rice and have it with radish kimchi, it’ll fill you up well.” He thinks with a lot of consideration, running over all the options that could replenish your hunger, and ultimately deciding on what he’s been loving lately.
“Let’s have that then.”
You nod your head, and move to return the empty glass of water in his kitchen. Jisung instantly misses your warmth from when you were inches beside him on the couch.
You’re driving him insane.
You drive him a little more insane when you don’t return from the kitchen right away. He makes his way to where you’re standing, but it seems that you’re staring at nothing in particular. With the empty glass on the counter, Jisung doesn’t understand why you’re just staring at the wall in horror.
“(Name)? What’s wrong?”
Your head snaps to the direction of Jisung’s voice. He’s looking at you with curiosity, and you can feel the heat radiating from your face. “I just realized I don’t have any clothes with me.”
“Oh! Don’t worry. You can just wear some of mine.”
Fuck, you feel so embarrassed, but Jisung is making it seem like it’s nothing – like he’s doing you a simple favor, and not the complexity entangled in staying at his for the night. Comfort is unknowingly wrapped around you in everything that Han Jisung does.
“Okay, I laid out some clothes in the bathroom. Just there.” He points at a door before directing his eyes back at you. “You can go take a shower if you’d like, while we wait for the food.”
You nod, thanking him again, but he simply brushes you off with that bright smile. He even hands you an extra toothbrush from his cabinets.
Jisung doesn’t know how he acted so nonchalant while lending you his clothes, because right now, as you emerge from the bathroom with a towel in hand, drying your hair, he feels like he’s about to explode at the sight of you in his clothes.
He knows his face is fully red right now. There’s no way to fight in, not when his shirt and sweatpants were practically swallowing you whole. He feels something akin to when you had messily eaten your ice cream on the walk back home from the convenience store, and he finds himself mumbling to himself. “Cute.”
“How do I look?” You laugh, flailing your limbs around to show the excess of material moving past your feet, and how his sleeves are down to your elbows. Before he has the chance to stutter over his own words in an attempt of a compliment, his phone begins to buzz.
“Must be the food.” He says, and you move to help him grab the takeout containers from outside. Settling them on the table, you move to grab your wallet from your bag.
Jisung blames it on his exhaustion from the gym, but a schoolboy giggle escapes him before he can hold it back the moment he spots the keychain he had won you a month ago still attached to your wallet.
“Don’t worry. I’ve already paid.” He moves to shove your wallet back down from your bag, and he feels himself physically malfunction when you pout up at him. “That’s not fair. Next time, I’m paying, okay?”
Next time.
Han Jisung cannot count the number of times you have made his heart do a backflip.
Over dinner, you talk about a multitude of topics – never running out of things to say. You realize it’s always been like this with him. You always have a lot to talk about, and you don’t feel scared or nervous to talk about anything.
Similarly, Jisung’s feeling giddy at how he feels he can tell you anything, so he does. He likes the laughter and giggles he elicits from you everytime he tells you a funny story. He also likes your efforts to pitch in with your own stories, feeling lucky you’re entrusting him with pieces of your life like that.
“Actually, in 6th grade, I was kind of a bully. I was kind of mean… but I was only mean because there was this girl who was SUPER mean to Seungmin so I had to get back at her.”
“Hmm?” He pushes you to continue your story, looking at you attentively as he chews on his food, following along your every word.
“So what I would do is, I’d step on bees right. I’m so sorry to the bees, I was young and naive. But, I stepped on them and I’d pick them up and put them in a plastic bag, right?” You smile mischievously, recounting the story in your head.
“Don’t tell me.” Jisung dramatically gasps, pointing a chopstick at you.
“Oh, but I did. I put the plastic bag in her locker! Yeah, I was kind of a psycho.”
He laughs, the wholehearted, head thrown back, thigh slapping kind of laugh as he looks at you in disbelief. But your story warms him – to know that even when you were still so young, you had already gone through extreme lengths to protect the people close to you.
In exchange for your story, he tells his own too. He recounts a story of when he had eaten spicy yuptteok without realizing it.
“I learned about the spiciness of life that day. Now, I’m scared of spicy food.”
He allows himself a quick glance at you from time to time whenever the familiar sound of a throaty laughter is bubbling from you, just before he finishes his story. Nothing feels more accomplishing than your genuine reactions and opinions to his stories.
You listen to him. You listen to every single word without fail.
You still listen an hour later while you’re seated on the couch, exchanging stories with each other.
Though, it’s interrupted for a moment when your phone begins to ring, and Seungmin’s face pops up on the screen. He must have an update on Jeongin already as it had been hours past the last time you had ringed him.
Swiping the call button, you answer with the intent to tell him that your living situation for the night has been solved.
“Jeongin’s at the dorm now, if you’re not already sleeping outside your apartment door.” Seungmin is so unserious in the way he says this so nonchalantly, like he has no remorse if you were out on the streets.
You know better though.
“It’s alright. I’ve sorted it out! Thanks again Seungmo.”
“Oh? Where are you staying? Is it safe?” His concern peeks out just a little bit at your words, and he proceeds to tell you it really isn’t a problem if you crashed at their dorms again. Besides, you could sleep on his bed this time, instead of that couch you hate so much.
Seungmin makes another mental note to replace his couch the next time you lock yourself out of your apartment.
“It’s safe, so don’t worry.”
“I’m not worrying.”
“Sure you aren’t.” You giggle.
Then, he hangs up.
You wonder what Seungmin would say if he found out you were at Jisung’s — not that you could ever willingly admit that out loud without stuttering and blushing an intense amount. He’d definitely say something stupid, so you’re almost thankful he doesn’t push at the topic of where you’re staying too much.
You value that he trusts you.
The rest of the night, you and Jisung stay on the couch, unmoving from your positions. Sometimes, you’d chat about stupid things, sometimes you’d scroll through Youtube videos on his laptop – pranks gone wrong, puppies, banned commercials, random videos from years ago.
He’s convinced he could talk all night just to make you keep laughing, and everytime you do laugh, he’s hit with just how beautiful you are, and he feels his heart explode every single time. He can certainly get used to that sound.
It feels so easy with you. Talking, laughing, everything feels so easy with you to the point where it’s scary. What was going to happen after tonight? Would you go back to merely acknowledging each other in the hallways? Would it take another odd circumstance to cross your paths again? Would you stop directing your laughter to his stories? Would all of that have to disappear again?
“Jisung? You okay there?” He blinks out of his own thoughts, looking at you intently before realizing the video you had been viewing had long ended and he was simply staring at a blank screen.
“Just thinking about those poor bees.” He lies straight through his teeth.
“You are so mean.” You hit him playfully, and he grabs your elbow before you can hit him again, laughing down at you. His breath hitches at the sudden close proximity, and he’s letting out nervous coughs while extracting his hand back to himself.
And then you yawn, and Han Jisung feels himself melt into a puddle.
“We should probably head to bed. Take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.” He helps you up from the couch, ghosting his arm on the small of your back in case you stumble in your sleepiness.
“It’s your apartment, I can’t kick you out of your bed like that.” You shake your head, planting your feet on the ground so he can’t move you.
“It’s really fine.”
“You’re not changing my mind, Han Jisung. Plus, you couldn’t possibly fit comfortably on this tiny couch. I’d fit right in.”
He sighs in defeat, mumbling a ‘fine’ which makes you grin.
“Let me get you some pillows and a blanket.”
The moment feels strangely intimate as he carefully places some of his pillows and a warm comforter on the couch to make sure you’re comfortable for the night. His eyes are slightly droopy from the exhaustion, but he’s determined in his task.
Han Jisung has definitely taken firm root in your heart, and you hope he stays around in your life forever.
“Do you need anything else?” He had taken it upon himself to tuck you in, and he feels the same suffocating feeling on his chest when you smile up at him in thanks, accompanied by a shake of your head.
He thinks he has a good idea what this feeling is.
“Okay. Goodnight.” Your heart just about melts in your chest at his words. You’ve never heard him speak so softly before with his eyes a little hooded and a gentle smile on his face, with his heart on his sleeve like that for you.
“Goodnight, Hannie.”
Jisung turns off the lights and almost falls when retreating to his own room at the mention of your old nickname for him. It’s a shame you can’t see the lovesick smile he has on his face while regaining his balance.
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You don’t recognize where you are at first when you wake up.
When the sunlight hits your face enough to pull your eyelids open, you’re thinking – this definitely doesn;t look like my room.
Stirring slightly, a yawn leaves your lips as you sit up to try and process everything that had transpired the night before. When you remember Jisung and his gentle smile and his crinkled eyes, you almost fall off the couch.
“Good morning!” Your eyes meet his cheery ones, drinking in the details of his features; messy hair that suggests he’s also just gotten out of bed, slightly puffy eyes, clothes from the night prior.
“Good morning.” You peel yourself off of the comforter, walking with him to the kitchen to drink a glass of water.
“How was your sleep last night? Hopefully it’s better than sleeping on your friend’s couch?”
He remembers, and something about that has you biting back a goofy smile this early in the morning.
“It was great. Thanks again for letting me sleep here for the night.” He simply nods his head, eyes still trained on you.
Han Jisung is acting a little strange this morning. While he’s normally this bright and active, it feels like it’s being amplified. He keeps looking at you, in every little thing that you do, and then he looks away when you try to catch his gaze. It feels like he wants to say something, even until you’re bidding him goodbye and thanking him again.
“I’ll return your clothes once I get it in the laundry.” You smile, and he nods his head, but he’s still tapping his foot on the ground excessively fast, bouncing on his feet and walking with you to accompany you outside.
“We seriously have to stop meeting under these weird circumstances.”
Laughing to try and cover up the fact that he can barely pay attention to what you’re saying, he opens the door for you. But can he really allow you to slip through his fingers again?
“Maybe we can meet again soon… tomorrow? For coffee? Under more normal circumstances?” Jisung tries to sound as casual as he possibly can. If you knew better, you’d know he was feeling his most nervous right now – even more nervous than when he had to pass a demo for his classes.
To his luck, you don’t notice the nervous quiver in his voice.
You stop in your tracks at his words, turning to look at him with a smile. The poor boy is falling deeper and deeper, and it’s definitely too late to pull him back up now.
“I’d like that.” You bite down at your lips, glancing up at him with a slight hesitation.
And then you kiss his cheek, and Han Jisung would throw himself out of his window if he could at this moment, running down the streets and screaming in victory.
Instead, he places his hand on his cheek, mouth slightly agape as he stares at your retreating figure.
“Don’t be a stranger, Han Jisung!”
He won’t be.
You’ve reminded him again and again that life and love is here for him to live it, and that’s exactly what he’s going to do.
Starting tomorrow. With coffee. And hopefully another kiss on the cheek by the end of the day.
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