#seven good healthy months

[rory-cakes]

Birdy's Alastor

Y/n Altruist's presence seemed to radiate even in death. As she passed through the pearly gates of heaven, a soft, ethereal glow surrounded her, drawing others to her just as she had in life. Over time, she became known as the angel whose voice soared like a canary's, captivating all who heard her. Her weekly concerts became a much-anticipated event, a beacon of joy in the heavenly realm.

When Y/n was allowed to observe her loved ones, she was unprepared for the sight that greeted her. She saw her mother-in-law in a graveyard, cradling a tiny baby—her baby, Eudora. But it was the sight of the headstone that caught her breath.

However, she started to choke on her breath when she saw what was on the headstone. 

Here lies Alastor and Y/n Altruist 

Beloved Parents and Family

May their soul find each other in the next life

Her Alastor was dead?

What had happened to him? 

Why wasn’t he here with her? 

When she asked her frantic questions, the truth almost made her faint. 

Yes, he was dead; a deer hunter shot him; he was a serial killer and a cannibal. 

Her Alastor. 

No that wasn’t her Alastor. 

Her Alastor rubbed her feet after a long shift and always had a cup of tea ready when she got home. 

Her Alastor made cringy radio jokes first thing in the morning and then apologized with breakfast. 

Her Alastor made sure she was happy and healthy during her pregnancy. 

Her Alastor couldn’t wait to father his child. 

This was the world’s Alastor.

Y/n’s Alastor was real. 

She needed to see him.

Now

Lucifer’s Daughter?

She’s here to talk about a rehabilitation hotel?

Hazbin Hotel is ironic but okay.

Y/n thought the idea in itself was good. Sure, it could use more workshopping and an overall steady plan of how they were going to do this, but other than that, it was great. 

As Y/n grew deeper into her thoughts about the hotel logistics, she didn’t realize the commotion happening in front of her. 

“Gotta say I can’t wait to-”

“Adam!”

“-come down and exterminate you!”

What?

Exterminate?

Could her husband be exterminated?

That wouldn’t do.

During her time in heaven, Y/n grew to be loved by many. That includes the higher angels. Sara’s Bosses. Considering how even Emily didn’t know of the extermination, Y/n had a slight hunch that the higher-ups didn’t know about it either. So, after her most recent  concert, she asked for an audience with the seven virtues. 

Due to their busy schedules they weren’t able to see her until a month later.

They were NOT happy. Sinners were never mean to suffer like that, they were meant to repeant. That’s why the hotel was so important. Turns out no one had even told them it existed. 

With the events of the most recent extermination and Adam’s death, the seven virtues were preparing to put Sara on trial as well as Lute when somthing exstrodinary happened. 

A sinner was redeemed!

The hotel worked!!

Since Y/n was the one who brought light to the subject, the seven virtues asked that she be the one to check on the progress of the hotel from now on.

She gladly accepted.

A/N: Hope you liked part four of Alastor's Birdy!!

part 5

Taglist: @crazed-flower, @nanamunath, @preferably-fictional, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @leximus98, @cupidsgift, @mag-chan, @stygianoir, @thereeallink, @yelloeukulele, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, blurpleuni-squid, @galaxywing-has-adhd, @just-here-reading, @deez-nuts0, @strawberry-gothic, @purplerose291,@1-800-mocha, @trashbin-nie, @queenmizuki, @nkirukaj @bennythebitch @otherthoughtsofbu, @fantasycantasy, @hunnybee11626, @notally-tormal, @valerie-36, @lovingyeet, @holographicage

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #x reader fic #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor altruist #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #rory writes

[vasiktomis]

Loophole (Zayne x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: Zayne has an Evol flare-up while you’re visiting Snowcrest. You’re a good friend, so you help him out.

It doesn't mean anything if you don't move, right?

Rating: Explicit (Minors do NOT interact). Word Count: ~6800. Tags/Warnings: Female Pronouns and Anatomy for Reader, Reader is MC, Caretaking, Friends to Lovers, Inappropriate Doctor/Patient Relationship, Childhood Friends, Bickering, Cock Warming, First Time, Vaginal Sex, Photography, Unsafe Sex, Porn with Feelings, Switching. Post-chapter 4 spoilers. Read it on Ao3 Here!

“Let’s get you inside.”

The cold weather poses something of a threat to Zayne, you've realised.

He'd never admit such a thing, of course, but if he hadn't wanted you to make such an observation, he shouldn't have made it his responsibility to impose such an unexpectedly strong presence in your life.

A year ago, you barely knew him. To say he kept you at arms' length was an understatement, but with everything that's occurred in recent months — with such a void left in your life from the loss of Caleb and Grandma — and the ugly mysteries eclipsing once-happy memories — your doctor, of all people, is the one dedicating almost every minute of his time outside of work to trying to fill that void. It's not like he talks your ear off — he's Zayne, after all — but he makes a noticeable effort to make himself accessible to you whenever he can.

He's been a good friend to you at the sacrifice of his own comfort.

In the seven months that have passed since the explosion, you've had more exposure to Zayne than you've had any of your other friends. He rarely strays from his quiet stoicism, but it's far easier to read him. These days, you can't believe you once thought him intimidating. The softer aspects of his personality aren't offered willingly, but accidentally. A slip of the tongue here, a too-long stare at a community cat there, a smile he doesn't think you notice. He masks his requests for you to visit him in his overtime hours as nagging reminders for you to water the plants. He never asks you to bring him dinner, but there's always an extra seat pulled up at his desk when you arrive with it unannounced.

You’re sure he likes it well enough; getting to know you after all these years. You’re just not sold on how fond he is of you knowing him.

It shows stark on his typically taciturn features. Streetlamp light bounces off fluffy snow at all angles in the little village laneway, illuminating the man with an almost healthy glow as he walks stiffly beside you, right hand clutched against his side and his left doing all it can to keep from crushing the bones in yours.

“I’m fine.” He insists while you lead him up to the cabin, grimacing at a sudden chill of wind passing over the porch. There's a certain tone he uses when he's putting on the bedside manner. As a patient, you'd be soothed. As a friend, your patience wanes. He's not fine.

”I’ll get a fire going.” You mutter, ushering him inside. He tries amidst obvious pain to be gentlemanly, waiting for you to enter first, but a scowl on your part has him conceding defeat and ambling through the door. “Get in the shower. Can you turn it on by yourself?”

There’s no more warm light from the street in here. Dr. Noah likely would have fallen asleep hours ago, shortly after you’d left for dinner. Still, even in the dark, you can sense the irritation in him.

“You act like I’m frozen solid.” He retorts on his way to the bathroom, knowing better than to stick around despite the attempt to uphold his pride.

”Get your butt in the shower before I throw you in there myself.”

The warmer months gave you no initial reason to suspect anything, but as the weather worsened and temperatures dropped, Zayne began to feel more on-edge. You’d bore witness to his attacks in the past, but he was no more willing to share his condition with you beyond the odd occasion of being unable to switch it off after a battle. You knew what it looked like when his Evol was acting up. It almost caused a fight, the first time you asked about it. Then, when it became clear you weren’t simply going to leave him to his own devices whenever he was displaying the signs, Zayne steadily, reluctantly, began to let you assist. He couldn’t stand it — he still can’t, you’re sure — not playing caretaker for once, but the two of you found a rhythm; keeping an eye on his temperature, steering clear of fluctuations, little remedies that help him bounce back quicker when his Evol gets the better of him. It became second nature to you, like carrying an Epipen for a loved one at risk of anaphylaxis.

You won’t lie, though. It pisses you off. He’s a constant nag when it comes to your health regarding your heart condition, but there was no allowable mention of his  condition when he brought you to Dr. Noah. Not that your opinion counts for anything, apparently, but what idiot cashes out his annual leave for an extended stay in a tundra when he's so prone to such reactions?

It had shocked you even more when your friend declared he’d be staying back for the foreseeable future, conducting research for the old man on a solo expedition on Mt. Eternal. Your friend — the one who'd taken it upon himself to be a stand-in for your lost family — alone, in the worst possible place he could be in his condition.

It was unthinkable.

Four weeks was your breaking point after you’d returned home without him.

Sure, he responded to your texts within seconds. Reception wasn’t good enough for calls, but he made sure to give you no logical reason to worry about him. It didn’t help. Once your dreams started to take the shape of him disappearing into the mountains, you cut your losses and decided to visit for the weekend.

Just as well, considering he’d been massaging his wrist in your periphery for the entirety of your first day. Still, he'd insisted on showing you around Snowcrest, spending as much time away from Dr. Noah's cabin as possible. You knew his tells. He was bordering on a flare-up and hiding it from you. Had he mentioned it and agreed to stay in tonight, you might not of had to drag him home with frost seeping out of his clothes and a foul mood. Instead, he chose to be proud about it.

Idiot.

God knows what could have happened to him if he hadn't come down from the mountain to spend the weekend with you.

He’d never let you get away with such stupidity, and it’s hard not to hold it against him. You came here out of worry in the first place, and the visit isn’t doing a thing to set your mind at ease.

You tend to rekindling the dimming embers in the fireplace, content to mind your business once you hear the shower turn on. At least he’s doing what he’s told.

The living room heats up steadily. New flames settle into a longer-lived glow. You get yourself changed into more suitable bed wear; a commandeered hoodie from your doctor’s medical school era, large enough to reach halfway to your knees. The frayed cuffs have since lost their elasticity and there are a few choice stains, and most condemning, the drawstrings have been chewed to tassels — but god, if it isn’t comfy. Time stretches on, and while the worry gnaws at the back of your mind, you leave Zayne to his privacy. So long as you don’t hear a thump, you’re content to imagine he’s probably just in there being mad at himself over not being the sensible one for once.

Zayne keeps himself locked away for the better part of an hour, in the end. Even Pie pads out into the living room to investigate what you’re doing up alone in the middle of the night before a scritch sends the fox on its way back to bed.

You’ve slid most of the way off the couch by the time the man emerges from his room in fresh pajamas. With your back to the rug, you watch him approach stiffly, slowing to a halt upside-down. He’s still rubbing at that wrist, you note.

“You’re still up.” He mutters, brow knitted in discomfort.

There’s frost on his neck. His lips are blue. It wasn’t even this bad when you were outside. A pit forms in your stomach.

Then, his wake hits you. Cold air, chilling you to the bone, and you sit up in a flash.  

“Zayne—“

He silences you with a little hand motion, stepping around you to seat himself as close as he can to the fireplace.

“You’re half-frozen.” You continue when he offers you nothing else. Crawling onto the couch beside him, you reach up to tug at the collar of his sweater, trying to inspect the severity of the attack. “God, you should have said  something.”

“I thought you were asleep.” He replies quietly. “I’ve seen — how much it takes to wake you-“

Zayne flinches from your touch when your fingertip skims his neck. The most aggressive warning to stay back that he can risk without waking his mentor. You ignore him, of course. You always do. Sitting close, you press yourself to his side on the couch, guiding his right arm between your thighs. Your fingers lace between his from both sides, covering as much surface area as possible as you use your body to fend off the cold.

A moment is all it takes to see some of the tension in his face disappear. He breathes through the pain, eyes closed, and you shift your gaze to the fireplace to give him his privacy with it.

”You’re in so much trouble when this passes.”

A short, sharp chuckle slips through Zayne’s teeth. He nods once. “I know.”

You sit together like this for a long while, letting him sap the heat from your body to combat the flare-up. If not for the fire, you’d be shivering. It takes time, but eventually Zayne’s breathing evens out. His face relaxes, bit by bit. His half-frozen arm feels just a little cold to the touch.

Neither of you part. Not just yet. There’s too much left unsaid, and Zayne takes far too much solace in quiet to make the first move.

You let your temple drop to his shoulder. “Snow village dates are nice, but most girls would say yes to ‘Go Fish’  and hot cocoa if it means their date makes it through the night.”

After a second, Zayne rests his head against yours.

He inhales.

He pauses.

Then…

“I wanted you to have a nice time. I didn’t think it through.”

…God, he’s such a sweet man. It’s not wonder he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

There’s such a sense of finality to the way he says it. You suppose it’s not necessarily a wrong way to think of it, but it’s not his fault. Sure, it’s your last night together for what may amount to months, and he was stupid enough to think he could get away with poking the bear, but you’d rather have him come home alive and well. Not a victim to his own Evol.

It doesn’t sit right with you to let it end like this. The moment he’s recovered, he’s going to insist you both go to sleep. You’ll take the guest bed, and he’ll take the pull-out trundle, and he’ll remain there, soundless with his back to you. In the morning, you’ll say your goodbyes, and that will be that. The next time you see him will probably be for a check-up, and he’ll spend the entirety of the ECG acting like you’re mere acquaintances again.

No, you’re not losing momentum.

You’re not sure if it’s warmth in general, or if it’s a reaction specific to you — through trust, or the Aether core — there’s just no telling. Zayne keeps his cards too close to his chest for you to ever be sure, but you do know for certain that you hold the quickest remedy. If it’s just warmth, he never lets anyone but you get close enough to supply it. If it’s trust, likewise. The Aether core? You’re the only one.

“What are you—“

Zayne stiffens when you climb into his lap. He winces in discontentment; at such an intimidate proximity, at the physical danger he still poses, at the feeling of your thighs astride his. He doesn’t look pleased in the slightest, but still, his knees shift together, offering you a more comfortable perch on which to explain yourself.

You can feel the cold still radiating from him, fighting his body to keep from regulating its own temperature. It’s unpleasant, the way the chill claws at you, reaching across the expanse of your front. The joints in your hands already ache just from holding his arm to your chest. It’s imaginable, what it must be like to host such an Evol. What it must be like to have your own flesh freeze from the inside-out on a whim.

“Not done keeping you warm.” You answer simply, making a conscious effort to keep your teeth from chattering for his sake. He’s exercising enormous restraint not flinging you off of him already. You shouldn’t push your luck by sending him into any more of a panic.

“It’s not safe for you to be this close.” Zayne protests.

“Then I’m making you safe.”

This time, a growl escapes him. Pain cuts his patience with your impudence short. “You’re going to get yourself hurt—“

Zayne’s words die in his throat when you drape yourself over him, chest to chest, arms languidly curling over his shoulders. He goes completely silent.

“Aren’t you always telling me you can control it, anyway?” You muse, relaxing into him, moulding yourself to his body. The white frost that blooms beneath his skin begins to fade from his throat, unable to contend with the warmth of your breath. “If you didn’t want me doing this you shouldn’t have shown me how well it works.”

“That was after the aid of a hot shower.” Zayne argues. His logic might apply for that aborted attempt at an early-morning hike, but it falls flat tonight. “I was trying to warm up after the shower.”

Yeah, look how well that turned out. He’s as bad at lying as you are.

“So you’re saying I ought to have—“

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“If it’s not helping, Zayne, tell me.”

“…It’s helping.” He mutters.

You declare your victory with a hum, tucking your face into the collar of his sweater.

Even his scent is cold, somehow.

Beneath you, Zayne shifts, conceding defeat. You feel his lips ghost the side of your head. Considering — then retreating from a kiss — opting instead to rest his chin on you. His affected arm remains wedged between you, while his free hand comes to rest on your waist.

Minutes pass. Zayne’s breathing steadies to a resting rhythm. Eventually, the ice retreats into his flesh, disappearing with only a lingering chill. It shifts, marking the man’s return to normal, but he doesn’t announce anything. Instead, he tugs his arm out, only to wrap around you, surrendering to the moment.

“Do you have plans, while I’m away?” He asks.

“Tara’s been looking at the blank spots on my calendar, so I’ve probably got things on without knowing, yet.”

“Blank spots.”

”Yeah. Some of us have those.”

”Sounds like you don’t know what to do with yourself without me.”

“Please. I won’t have to worry about you bullying me. Maybe, y’know, I’ll do just fine without you.”

A chuckle escapes him. Tentatively, he toys with the fabric of your hoodie. “You’re not going to wash this at all, are you.”

Heat climbs up your neck at the suggestion. Of all the night clothes you had to bring, why did it have to be something you’d stolen from him?

You’re no coward. You rise to challenge. “Can’t miss you when it feels like I’ve got you with me.”

“I know  you’ll miss me,” Zayne retorts, and wow, he’s really  angling for a comeback after having you subject him to being taken care of, “But that’s no excuse for poor hygiene.”

“Poor hygiene—!”

You lean back to glower at the man, only to find him smirking up at you.

“I’ve half a mind to expect to find you asleep on the platform when the train pulls in, simply because you were too excited to wait at home for me to drop by.”

Your ears are positively scalding. You feel yourself shrinking, suddenly not so confident taking up as much space in the room. How does he have you so well figured out? Are you really that much of an open book? Compared to him, sure, but you’d hoped you carried a little more mystery about you than sitting on a station platform for a quasi-boyfriend-without-benefits  like a dog.

Even if that is  the case — does he really have to rub it in your face?

He can’t get away with this.

Speaking plainly, Zayne’s warmed up plenty. There’s no real reason for either of you to remain this close, and yet — despite lauding himself as the rational half of this friendship, his arms almost keep you from moving any further away.

His expression doesn’t falter with your silence, remaining ever-undisturbed. It unnerves you. His smiles never last more than a second, and you can count on one hand the amount of times he’s looked you in the eye with a pleasant face on. He’s on a power trip. If you don’t cut him down right this second he’ll go nuclear. He’ll leave you hanging with a ‘goodnight’  and a kiss on the forehead and you’ll both never speak of tonight again.

This is it. This is the last straw. Tonight, you leave him  hanging. 

“You want me to miss you so fucking bad, huh?” You accuse him, tapping a finger to your chin as you pretend to wonder. His eyebrow ticks. “Is that what you’re into? Man, you medical staff are all so power hungry.”

Zayne looks thoughtful for a moment. A thumb idly traces back and forth along your skin, barely tucked beneath your hoodie. It’s such a cautious touch. You wish  he wasn’t just all talk. “Perhaps you’re easier to deal with when one considers you might actually like getting bossed around.”

There’s no hiding the erection that sits wedged between you. There’s no ignoring the heat that pools in your core every time it strains against your cunt, blocked only by his sweatpants and your underwear.

There’s no way he can’t feel your heart beat throbbing against him.

And yet — he pretends not to be taking part in any of it.

You think about it for a moment.

Then, you roll your hips forward, slowly, gently. Your nerves spark as your clit finds the pressure it needs against the underside of his cock.

It takes everything in your power to keep from doing it again.

A tiny shiver makes its way out of Zayne. Frustration, perhaps. You angle a knowing little smile at him, and his throat bobs. He knows he’s been caught.

Checkmate.

“Doctor Zayne, are you getting off on this?” You ask, and his face flushes scarlet. His eyes widen, caught off-guard by you finally crossing the threshold.

”I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” He answers lamely, pointedly avoiding looking down.

“You are!”

“Not so loud. It’s n-… it’s nothing.” He insists in a hushed voice, shooting a look over your shoulder before he’s satisfied that the coast is clear of anyone who might be privy to what the two of you are doing. “Just a biological reaction to stimuli.”

“Which stimuli?” You ask, feigning curiosity. “The cuddling, or this?”

To stress your point, you do it again, biting back the swell of enjoyment at the way his lips part of their own accord. A little hum spills forth, and his own hips chase the motion, just for a second, before he halts.

“Please.” Zayne murmurs, moving to hold you still. Inching you back onto his thighs, condemning himself to reveal two little damp patches. One where the grey fleece of his sweatpants pulls most taut. The other a little lower, where you’ve been rubbing your cunt along his clothed shaft.

“You need to learn when you’ve teased enough.”

What — fall back? Now? When all your nerves are alight?

Your tongue wets your lips as you take in the sight of him. Well on his way to wrecked, but not quite there. His expression remains otherwise impassive, but his pupils are far too blown to help him maintain the facade.

“You’re one to talk. Can’t hack it when it’s not you in charge?” You challenge him. “You’re not usually one to shy away from uncharted territory.”

You can’t help but reach out, itching to touch him. Fingertips smooth along his length, feather-light from the bottom up. His cock twitches when you reach the tip, begging for more.

“Ah—“ Long fingers snatch at your wrist, holding you fast. “Try no man’s land.”

“It’s nothing.” You assure him. “You said it yourself.”

Nothing. No different to how he so often strays into treating you, with all his dates and touches. Nothing, midday naps and linking your pinky-fingers as you walk together. Nothing, like the spare clothes you both reserve a drawer for.

“Just warming you up. That’s all.”

Zayne’s chest expands. His gaze fixes on your fingertips curling insistently at his waistband despite his grip keeping you at bay. “That’s all.”

Disbelief? Determination? Disappointment? You’re not familiar enough with how each of these sound in his throat to properly identify it, but Zayne’s grip on your wrist releases nonetheless. He opts to help you make more comfortable work of his track pants, pushing them down just a little to allow you easier access. There’s no presence of approval at how greedy you are about it, pawing and snatching at your prize while he tries to remain nonchalant.

You do try to give him the dignity of privacy by not looking down when he settles and you finally wrap both hands around his cock. He’s already indignant as it is, and the rumble that vibrates deep in his chest as your fingers close around him isn’t helping.

Oh — maybe just a little tease.

“Hey.” You chide, grinning. His eyes crack open, just enough to narrow at you. “Don’t make it weird. I’m a professional.”

It earns you a scoff. Zayne’s fingers, settled on your thighs, give a retaliatory squeeze, thumbs pressing just hard enough into your adductors to skirt on discomfort. He watches you tense at the feeling, and sensing an opportunity to shift the attention back off himself, decides to squeeze harder.

You finally flinch with an “Ow!”, and the man smiles to himself. Mission accomplished. He lets go.

”You’re the professional? How many surgeries have you performed?”

”How many have you  performed?”

”…A lot, genius.”

“Didn’t you tell me that some of your worst patients are doctors themselves?”

“Your point being?”

There’s no point — at least not in arguing with him. He’s only trying to distract you. You shift over him, and his attitude dissolves. He leans back, maintaining as much distance as he can — or perhaps to watch, as you tug your underwear to the side — line yourself up — and sink down onto his cock.

Zayne’s chest expands, but he makes no noise. His eyes close. His lips part. A minor crease forms between his eyebrows. It might as well be a sob. You’d use such a reaction against him if you weren’t more concerned with suppressing your own, lest he catch you out. Your cunt burns from the sudden, full intrusion, and his diverted attention gives you the moment you need to grow accustomed to it.

Once you’ve gotten over the initial shock of the feeling, you brush any intrusive thoughts aside. It doesn’t matter if he’s one of your oldest and closest friends. It doesn’t matter if he’s your doctor. You were already squarely planted in conflict-of-interest territory the moment he took you on as a patient.

You try to ignore your own desire. Your body catches up with your actions quickly, igniting touch-starved nerves that you’ve long-fantasised him satisfying. Heat builds inside you at a nervous system realising you’re finally giving it what it wants, and it only screams for more. Of course you’ve wanted Zayne. You adore him, but he’s not the kind of man who could balance a friendship with benefits; if anything, he finds a way to be the inverse of such a thing. He gives you everything in the way of a relationship except sex, and with him steering so clear of crossing that boundary with you, you have to tread carefully.

As much as you want to, this is delicate.

“My point is: zip it and let me take care of you.” You manage.

Besides, its not like you’re actually having sex with him. He’s continually pushing the boundaries of platonic with all his touches and hugs anyway. It’s not like he has a leg to stand on if he wants to protest what sitting on his cock might mean for your relationship. Hell, this isn’t even the first time he’s been hard when you’ve had his hips pinned down with your own.

If anything, you’re doing the guy a favour by taking the responsibility off him to go this far.

Zayne doesn’t bounce back as quickly as you do. His eyes remain scrunched shut, his core engaged beneath your palms as you brace your weight to settle into a more comfortable position in his lap. He looks worried. Apprehensive.

“Doctor Zayne?” Concern begins to creep in, just a little. “Okay, you can say something now.”

“Please,” He grits between his teeth, and relief floods your body as some semblance of calm returns to his expression, “Don’t call me that — like this.”

“Like what? I’m just warming you up, remember?” You offer a smile when he opens one eye, mood shifting to quizzical.

“You’re so immature. And for the record, this constitutes malpractice. You’re a terrible doctor.”

”Trust the process.”

”Fine. What’s the course of treatment?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing.”

You can’t help but chuckle at such quiet outrage. It’s getting easier to read him. Relaxing against his front, you ignore a little gasp on his part to loop your arms around his neck again. Dishonest pretences be damned, this really is doing the trick. “All you need to do is stay still.”

Zayne weighs up his options for only a moment before giving in. His arms slip around your waist. His chin hooks over your shoulder, just barely nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He’s breathing in your scent, and the following exhale into your skin has you stifling a shiver.

Then, there’s a flex within you.

“Hey!” You choke, “I said stay still back there!”

“Quiet down. It was only a reflex.” Zayne defends, a little too cavalier to fly under the radar. “Besides, I’m not the one squirming.”

“I’m just getting comfortable. Your hips are pointy.”

Zayne’s hips slot up into yours, and the feel of him nudging just a little deeper has your eyes stinging. You fail to stifle a little squeak, and you’re shushed for it immediately.

“Just getting comfortable.” Zayne’s words lick at your ear, and the sound of him sends shivers through you, pooling between your legs, pleading with you to satisfy the ever-nagging want to start riding him. “You’re like a vice.”

He has to know how much of an effect he has on you. There’s no way he doesn’t.

You don’t respond to his attitude — however, the condemning, responding, constricting  of your insides around his cock surely doesn’t go unnoticed, and with a hollow breath, he lifts you, just a little, enough to draw back and push back in. He’s slow about it; infuriatingly so, almost like if he inches in and out at enough of creeping pace you’ll either not bother to be strict with him, or you’ll simply abandon your own rules in favour of crossing the boundary he’s silently begging you to cross for him.

No. He’s not getting the upper hand here. Not when he gets to pretend all his little actions are forgettable. Platonic. Accidental. Misunderstood. There’s only so many times a guy can subtly grind on someone during a spooning session and claim ignorance when called out about it.

You lock your feet beneath his knees, and sink down onto him, hard. Pleasure blooms. Your cunt aches for more. A sharp breath escapes Zayne, threatening to blossom into an appreciative groan that would only serve to tempt you without your hand clapping over his mouth and a ‘shh!’.

“You can keep still, or this stops.” You announce in a whisper, and he watches you defiantly from behind your hand.

Zayne’s gaze eventually breaks away from yours. Conceding. For now, at least. You lower your hand from his mouth, and relax, reaching across the cushion to pluck your phone from the couch and check your messages.

Already, he’s bothered by your lack of undivided attention.

“You’re on your phone.”  He huffs.

“I’m not rewarding your behaviour.” You reply simply.

“You’re not implying that behaving differently would warrant a reward, are you?”

That’s for him to figure out.

You shift your weight maybe just a little more than you need to, indulging in the feeling of his cock shift with you, within you, pressing insistently against that one spot that almost has your constitution coming apart at the seams. Zayne trembles momentarily beneath you, swallowing hard. He’s keeping his cool well enough, but as you settle into the new angle, no longer moving, his frustration makes itself known with another twitch inside you.

If he keeps doing that, you’re not sure you can hold out.

“You really  think this is helping?” He asks, voice tight.

“You don’t believe me?” You pout, tapping your home screen and opening your camera app. “Fine, let the expert see for himself.”

Switching to selfie cam, you watch as the man glances at his image on the screen for half a second, before tearing his gaze away. Not a shocker, you reason. He’s probably never seen himself with a hair out of place. Flushed cheeks and dilated pupils? You might as well have shown him a traffic collision.

“Aw, come on. Look how much colour’s come back to your face.”

Zayne musters the courage to look up, but not at the phone. His eyes narrow at you. Accusatory. “I’m not interested in giving you blackmail material.”

“What? Get real. There’s nothing incriminating going on. Especially not when you angle it like this.” You switch on a filter and lean down into the man. “See?”

Curiosity gets the better of him, and his head tilts to get a better look at whatever scheme you’re cooking up. On the screen, both your flushed faces smooth out, blushing perfectly. Cat ears and whiskers. Cheek to cheek. Just another one of your countless selfies with completely platonic friends.

You take the shot. The shutter clicks.

“Cute.” Zayne mutters drily.

“You think so?”

“Only how much fun you seem to be having of it.”

Your brow knits. “Oh yeah? All right, stick in the mud, you take over.”

He gives too much away at that response. His long fingers immediately slip over your hips. He’s readying to flip you onto your back before he notices you’re holding the phone out to him. Then, knowing he’s shown his hand, he has no choice but to recover his pride.

Much to your chagrin, Zayne plucks the phone from your hand, aborting whatever miraculous step he’d been about to take. A corner of his mouth ticks, minutely. He angles your phone away from you, tapping and swiping. His own phone buzzes. Then, he casts the device at the other end of the couch, out of your reach. “I think it’s getting a bit late for screens.” He murmurs. Fingers smooth up and over the swell of your hips. His long arms uncoil from your waist, releasing you as he leans back. Leaving you with a lonesome chill.  “And you ought to be going to bed.”

Is that…rejection? Has he just been humouring you up until this point?

You tilt your head. “I’m sorry. Is this not okay?”

“This is fine.”

He looks at the fireplace. Stoic as ever.

“Then what?” You frown.

He doesn’t respond.

Your throat runs dry. Dread creeps up through your heart.

“Hey. Talk to me.” You urge, smoothing your fingers along his jaw, and he leans into your palm.

Seconds pass. Zayne finally regards you again. There’s an acknowledging incline of his head — almost a polite bow. A pre-emptive apology for what he’s about to say. 

“What happens after this?” He asks. “Do we part ways at the train station in the morning and the next time we see each other, it’ll be as doctor and patient?”

Oh.

“Is that what we are to you?” You ask, not entirely sure if you want to know.

He dodges the question the best way he knows how: with rationality. “I feel that if that scenario is what you want, we should say goodnight. My understanding of our relationship won’t change, I promise you, but if this goes further, at least one of us is going to feel differently. It would be better if there were no misunderstandings between us.”

Something tightens in your chest. Something dreadful and lovely all the same, anxiety and anticipation at the prospect of a tipping point, at least before saying goodbye. Trust Zayne, of course, to turn to smoke and mirrors when it comes to a confession of feelings, but you’ve known him long enough to see how far out of his comfort zone all of this is.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” You ask, aborting an attempt on his part to avert his gaze with a finger beneath his chin.

His expression remains inexplicable. Then, there’s that little tilt of his head. The quirk of an eyebrow. “Your assumption is correct.”

The apprehension that’s been building in the back of your mind disperses the moment he says it. Your resolve all but disappears.  “My understanding,” You begin, reaching up to cup your hand over the other side of his face, “is that I’ve wanted you ever since I walked into that restaurant last year.”

Zayne doesn’t hesitate. His mouth finds yours in a heartbeat. Previously unsure hands pull you against him, locking you in his embrace. He’s so awfully gentle about it all despite your combined strength. Such a gentleman. It comes as no surprise that he shudders at the intrusion of your tongue past his lips — what does surprise you is how quickly he catches up to your pace. Inviting you in. Slipping an arm lower to brace your weight, and you feel yourself being pulled up off of his cock, just until only the head remains at your entrance. 

The loss of him has you incensed. He keeps you from sinking back down, and your protesting whines are suffocated with another kiss. All he’s left you with to express yourself is your hands, and you seize the opportunity, combing your fingers through his hair and tugging, just slightly at the roots.

He breaks away with a little noise. Not pained, but shocked. Another one of his spots, you reason, and he’s just as displeased that you’ve found it. 

“You don’t know when to quit.” Zayne pants. His fringe dusts your forehead. “What — what were we saying about bad behaviour going unrewarded?”

You’re too mindless right now to play any games. There’s no more thrill of the build that you can handle. Not after this long. 

You break, instantly. 

“Please —“ You whimper, almost trembling in his grip, trying in vain to take him back in again. “Zayne, I need it — please—“

Zayne relents right away. He gives you what you want, lowering you, burying himself in you to the hilt. Then he lifts you again, building into a steady rhythm.

”You’re so — you’re so frustrating.” He manages between kisses. “Should’ve told me this is all it takes for you to do as you’re told.”

More. You need more. Heavenly as it is, it’s not enough, just having him in you. You push back, and Zayne takes the hint. He’s said his piece. He lets you take the lead again without a fight, admiring the view as you roll onto the balls of your feet, gripping the back of the couch to keep yourself stable. The new angle feels deeper, each stroke rolling drifting sharply over your nerves as he brushes that spot inside you. It takes a moment for Zayne to kick into gear, brain short-circuiting as he watches you squat on his cock, taking what you need from him. Then, he leaves you to support your own weight. Fingers wrench at the front of your hoodie, yanking it up to your sternum, and his tongue sweeps a nipple. In the time it takes for you to react, his other hand has snaked between you, between your legs. His thumb rolls over your clit just as he latches onto your nipple and sucks. The keen barely escapes your lips before Zayne’s hand claps over your mouth, continuing his assault. 

It goes from too little to too much. It creeps up on you so fast, so suddenly, and there’s nothing you can do but ride through it. A muffled hum is all the warning you can give him. Your pace staggers as the burn in your thighs catches up to you, but Zayne only goes faster, rubbing merciless little circles into your nerves. His hips roll up into you, compensating as best he can for your loss of control. Finally, the band snaps, and you sob against his hand, spasming around him, tears pricking at your eyes with the intensity of it all. You go positively boneless, and Zayne breaks away just enough to let you collapse into his chest as he carries you through it, breaths quickening as the lingering spasms of your orgasm invoke his own. 

“Fuck, I’m—“ He barely stammers, releasing you only to coil his arms around your torso again, readying to pull out.

“Not going anywhere.” You promise, clinging to him. Your fingers comb through his hair, tugging again, and a whimper dies in Zayne’s throat. He buries his face into the crook of your neck. His hips roll up into you once, twice, thrice more, and then he goes still. Buried in you to the hilt as he tips into oblivion.

He’s so subtle about it that you barely even realise he’s coming. Maybe it’s the effort not to wake Dr. Noah. Maybe it’s like this every time. Having him hold you with such desperate reverence while he does his best not to judder in stark contrast to to the feeling of him pulsing within you, you reason you’d like to find out. He hides his face from you throughout, only pulling his forehead from your clavicle when the aftershocks have come and gone.

Zayne looks lovelier than ever like this — coming out of a blissful haze, gazing up at you with cautious adoration. His focus flickers between your eyes and your lips. His chest expands and collapses like he’s like a 5-miler, but his breaths are smooth.

Even now, he’s trying to maintain a cool composure.

“Forgive me.” He mutters, not quite meeting your eye.

Your head tilts. Chasing him. “Huh? Why?”

“I exercised poor judgement. That was rotten of me. I should have known better, given I’ve never prescribed birth control to you.”

“You really think I’d come to you for birth control?” You snort.

Zayne’s brow creases. An incredulous look totally undermined by how positively wrecked he looks right now. “I am  your physician. Or has your other doctor friend decided to become real after all?”

Your fingers comb through his hair again. Despite a pleasant sigh on his part at the sensation, his expression remains steeled.

“Hey.” You finally manage to capture his gaze, only for any tells to evaporate. “Could you tell me something?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Are you more jealous that I might have had sex with someone who wasn’t you, or that I might have gone to another doctor?”

Zayne considers his answer for a long moment. His head tilts in that particular way it does when he has to make a decision, eyeing you expectantly. Punishment for daring to push him out of his comfort zone.

He presses a hand to your forehead. 

A thoughtful hum escapes him.

“Curious. Your temperature’s dropping. On second thought, you should stay another day so I can observe you.”

“You’re avoiding the question!”

“Here. I’ll keep you warm. You can install those camera filters on my phone to pass the time.”

#zayne love and deepspace #li shen #zayne x reader #love and deepspace fanfiction #vas fics

[trblsvt]

in this life | choi seungcheol

summary | honestly, you didn’t really care what choi seungcheol did anymore. but, when his mom called you saying there was an accident, you found yourself at the foot of his bed. genre | fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; exes!au warnings | swearing, mentions of hospitals, injuries from an accident (not life threatening), mentions of drinking, suggestive… for like a flashback, nudity (non-sexual and not descriptive), miscommunication possibly…, jealousy…, insecurities/self-doubt word count | 13.47k words pairing | choi seungcheol x fem!reader minli | lowercase intended i literally have nothing to say about this. sort of a monster to write. i had so many ideas for this, yet little brainpower to execute! it was a fun concept and the longest fic i’ve written for this blog… italics mean flashback or past event… update | i forgot a few things to tag under warnings, sorry :( they have been added

you were doing great, just great. it started raining when you left your umbrella back at your apartment. you were late to work, and you spilled your coffee on the way out of the door. things were great, and it had been seven months since you and your boyfriend called it quits.

you’d like to say it ended in a big blaze of glory, something movie-like, but it was just the opposite. you had sat down with seungcheol and told him that you were unhappy. he was always too busy and refused to make time for anything other than his work. as for you, well you were tired. when you told him, he sort of just looked at you blankly and just shrugged.

he fucking shrugged. great. so that was it. you just stared at him blankly. he wasn’t even going to put up a fight. two years down the drain.

“so that’s it?” you had asked before you left.

“yeah, i guess so,” he had replied.

and that’s how it ended, you packed up your stuff and went back to your apartment. you technically weren’t living with seungcheol, you still had your lease and whatever, but you spent a lot of time at seungcheol’s.

you finally made it to the office and clocked in. nothing important was going on today which was nice, but also this meant your day was going to be endlessly boring. at least it was friday. 

you sat down and logged into your computer. “shouldn’t you change your home screen?” a voice startled you out of your thoughts of the hours to come. you spun around in your chair and stared at your friend minjeong. you looked between her and your computer screen. you knew what she was talking about, but you decided to play dumb. “what are you talking about?” you asked. minjeong sort of glared at you.

“that’s from your vacation to jeju,” she frowned.

the same vacation seungcheol took you on.

“yeah, it’s a sunset for jeju. what about it?” you huffed. she didn’t respond, just gave you a look. you knew that look. it was the “i know better than you, why aren’t you listening to me?” look. “seungcheol isn’t even in this picture,” you defended your screensaver.

“but seungcheol was there. that’s a memory with seungcheol,” she countered. she was right. you probably should’ve changed it, but whether it was with seungcheol or not, it was a nice picture. “yeah, it is, but we’re on good terms so what’s the big deal?” you blurted out.

there was the “you’re such a liar” look. “really? when’s the last time you talked to seungcheol since you broke up?” she entertained you even though you both knew you hadn’t contacted seungcheol once since you broke up. “well, it’s not like i keep track or anything, that would be weird,” you brushed her off. you could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “seriously, ___, i don’t think this is healthy for you to still keep remnants of your relationship with him around. it’s going to prevent you from moving on,” she explained.

“i know, just- just give me a little time,” you sighed.

“time? it’s been seven months! how about we go out tonight? you can get your sights on some new man. i think i overheard that changkyun is going out tonight at that new bar.”

“now why would i be interested in where changkyun is going tonight?” you scoffed. minjeong had a theory that changkyun had been crushing on you since he first joined the company, but you were too “lovesick” with seungcheol to see. “he’s so into you! i’m not saying to marry the guy, just take your mind off seungcheol. it’s his loss anyway,” minjeong laughed. 

you wanted to believe that, you really did.

you had every intention of going out with minjeong, but the day was going on so momentously, you weren’t sure if you could stand up straight for another second. you both had to unexpectedly stay longer and work overtime, and it might have been the death of you. you heard minjeong’s cheery humming coming around the corner. “are you ready to get absolutely wasted?” she smiled.

“i was going for more of a buzzed thing,” you yawned.

“oh no, don’t do that. you get so quiet when you’re tired before you drink,” she whined. you looked at her, but she was right. you had about three different moods when you were drunk. one, loud. two, quiet. three, insane. and most of the time, the way you ended up correlated to how you were feeling before you drank. you couldn’t explain it, but it just happened.

you were about to offer a clever rebuttal when your phone started ringing. “one second,” you didn’t even bother to check the caller id. “hello?” you replied.

“ah, ___ thank you for answering,” a familiar voice floated through the phone. you paused. you pulled your phone away from your ear and looked at the name on the call.

mrs. choi.

“mrs. choi, hello, i wasn’t expecting you to call me,” you said almost breathlessly. you glanced over at minjeong and she stared at you, wide-eyed. “___, dear. i’m so glad you picked up. i need you to come over,” she sighed. she sounded tired like she had been crying. wait. she wanted you to come over? for what? “come over? what’s going on? is everyone okay?” you asked, logging off your computer and placing the few things you took out of your bag, back into the bag.

“i have hope that it will be. seungcheol was in a car accident.”

you apologized profusely to minjeong and left the office rushing to the seungcheol’s apartment. you knew the way to his apartment, to him, like the back of your hand. you punched the code in that bypassed the need to be buzzed in, and made your way to the elevator.

after you pressed the button to the fifth floor of the complex you felt your hands become inexplicably sweaty. why did you rush over here like a lovesick fool? you weren’t even dating him anymore. why did his mom call you? what was going on? the elevator dinged, alerting you that it was time to get out.

you made your way down to his apartment. 5-12. it looked the same since the last time you were there. you stared at the door. it had been so long since you had been there. your heart was beating so fast, you didn’t know what to do. so, you just knocked.

the door flew open almost instantly. “___, my dear, come in,” mrs. choi welcomed you warmly. you smiled and bowed slightly. when you stepped through the doorway your first instinct was to run away, but you couldn’t. you kicked your shoes off and followed mrs. choi in the direction of seungcheol’s bedroom.

she lightly grasped at your arm. “the car crash happened a couple days ago. we just got out of the hospital. he broke his right leg. it was jammed against the dash and steering wheel. he also has a bruised lung from the airbag, and a mild concussion from the collision,” she explained. you nodded. that sounded awful. where did he crash? did someone crash into him, or did he crash into someone else?

almost reading your mind, she added, “he didn’t hurt anyone else. it was raining the other day. it was dark and his car hydroplaned into a barrier. the cops thought it might’ve been a drunk driving incident since they found newly bought alcohol in the back of his car, but there wasn’t any in his system.”

you were still rendered speechless. seungcheol was the safest driver you knew. he always warned you about hydroplaning and what to do if it happened. why didn’t he do what he always told you?

you realized you were spaced out when mrs. choi rested a hand on your shoulder. “i was surprised that you didn’t come the other day, but seungcheol insisted that you were away on a trip of some sort. he didn’t want me to call you, but you’re his girlfriend! i had to tell you at some point, and you’re obviously back in town,” she exclaimed. “thank you so much for coming, ___. i don’t know where seungcheol would be without you.”

you’re his girlfriend.

what the fuck?

you certainly were not his girlfriend anymore. why did she think you were together? it had been seven months. mrs. choi was sharp, she wouldn’t accidentally slip and say you were his girlfriend unless that is if…

then it dawned on you. 

for whatever reason, seungcheol never told his mom the two of you broke up.

fuck.

seungcheol was sick. he was more than sick. he was hurt, physically. and his mom only wanted what was best for her son. she brought you here for something. you weren’t about to make this poor woman’s day worse by telling her you weren’t dating seungcheol anymore, so you played along. “yes, i just got back from a business trip. i always tell seungcheol to call me if something’s the matter. i’m so glad you called me, i wasn’t going to come over for another day or two because of his work schedule,” you pretended. she looked at you fondly. “i always knew you were a good one, ___,” she smiled. it pained you to lie to her, but it seemed like the best option for now.

“we just got back from the hospital a few hours ago. he’s all set up in there. i’m not sure if he’s awake now, but do you want to see him?” she asked. you nodded quietly. you didn’t know what you were going to do in front of seungcheol. you preferred not to think about it.

“before you go in, i have a large favor to ask you. i understand you’re a busy person, but if you could, oh my i feel so embarrassed to ask this. if you could stay with him for a while. take some time off and take care of him because i really cannot stay. my father is ill and i must return home to care for him,” she laughed bitterly. “i would stay, and i would never dream of dumping this sort of responsibility on just anyone, but you’re his girlfriend. not saying girlfriends and wives are only meant for taking care of husbands and boyfriends, but i know you care about seungcheol. i just thought it-”

“yes, i can do that,” you cut her off. why did you say that? “i can contact my manager and work remotely.” why do you keep saying things like this? suddenly mrs. choi’s arms were around you. “thank you, thank you, thank you, dear. i am so grateful for you, and i know my son is too. thank you! i must get going, but i already stocked the fridge. you can go in. once again, thank you so much. our family owes you so much,” she cried. you rubbed her back. “oh, don’t say that. you don’t owe me anything. i’m just happy he’s alright,” you whispered.

that was the first truthful thing you said in that entire interaction.

when you entered the room, mrs. choi accompanied you. seungcheol was awake. he stared longingly out the window on the opposite side of the room away from the door. “honey, there’s someone here to see you,” mrs. choi called gently. you wanted to hide, so you tried to. partially behind her and you looked over her shoulder. seungcheol tried to adjust himself and he slowly turned over to look at his mother. “mom, i really didn’t want to see anyone-” he began, but his eyes met yours and he froze.

“oh come on, darling, it’s ___. she’s agreed to help out some. she cares about you,” she cooed. seungcheol looked like a child who got caught going through the cookie jar.

due to the dim light, you couldn’t really see that well, but you noticed the large soft cast that he had on his right leg. it looked like he was having a hard time breathing, that was the bruised lung. he had some cuts on his face that had already scabbed over, but you noticed some dark spots on his pillow, maybe he had been picking at them. he had a habit of picking at his scabs.

but the most striking thing to you was how pale he was. he looked like a ghost, which was strange since seungcheol loved to go outside to read or watch people. what had changed since you left? you noticed a wheelchair and a pair of crutches.

“mom, i- why did you call, ___? i told you she was busy,” seungcheol asked weakly. before his mom could nag him, you decided that you could save this entire situation from becoming more awkward than it needed to be. “cheol, don’t you remember? i came back yesterday, but i knew you were going to be busy with work,” you forced a smile. you thought you were going to throw up his mother grinned and squeezed your hand. she made her way over to seungcheol’s closet and started rummaging through it looking for something.

you looked back at seungcheol and it looked like he might cry. his eyes yelled at you, what are you doing here?

if you were honest you weren’t sure.

you saw mrs. choi out while she continued to thank you profusely for looking about for seungcheol. “of course, no need to worry. seungcheol is safe with me,” you assured.

“what would i do without you, ___? i hope someday you can join the family officially. i mean you’ve been dating seungcheol for over two years now,” she grinned hugging you.

yeah, i did too, you thought.

she left and instructed you to just heat something up that she left in the fridge. you locked the door behind you and made your way into the kitchen. you pulled out a tray of noodles and plated them. she left you a few tips about seungcheol so you decided to look at it.

he has work off, so no need to worry about driving him to work. once he is better and the doctors clear his concussion can start working from home.

please make sure he is eating three meals a day. he’s been acting differently and hasn’t been eating as much.

for showers, there’s a cover for the cast because he can’t get it wet.  i set up a chair in his shower, so he should need minimal help in that area. maybe just changing.

pain medications are in the cabinet next to the fridge. dosage is two tablets every six hours. but, if he isn’t hurting that much give him one, or if he isn’t in any pain don’t worry about it. 

he has a doctor’s appointment in a couple of weeks to see how his leg is healing is progressing.

thank you so much <3 call me if you need anything

you frowned at the second one. not eating well? seungcheol always ate well. this seemed pretty manageable. you had already called your supervisor, who approved your request to work remotely. you did have to lie and say you were taking care of a family member, but otherwise, it was a mostly truthful story.

when you put the sheet down, the microwave had finished and you brought the plate into seungcheol’s room. he wasn’t looking in your direction, instead, he was looking out the window. “seungcheol, i brought you dinner. your mom made it,” you announced. no response. you huffed and looked around the room. you didn’t want to push him, but you needed him to eat. “i know you’re not sleeping. you’ll heal faster if you eat. your mom needs you to eat,” you continued. yet, to no avail, he still stared out the window, body closed off to you. you sighed, you wished it didn’t have to come to this. “seungcheol, i need you to eat. please, for me,” you pleaded. there was a slight shift, but still no response. “well, i’ll just leave it here, but eat it soon. it’ll get cold,” you sighed, placing the plate on the nightstand where he could reach it.

why did you sign up for this? it wasn’t like you owed him anything. why didn’t you just tell his mom you were broken up? so many questions were flooding your mind, so you almost missed his whispered question. “what, did you say? i’m sorry, i missed it,” you asked, turning around from the door.

“do you- do you have something to eat?” he asked, breath labored.

something in your heart stuttered.

you silently nodded.

“that’s good,” was all he said.

it was almost 9:00 pm. you had your plate of food, and you thought it would be best to run over to your apartment to pick up some clothes and belongings, especially since you were supposed to live here for a while. you would run in and check with seungcheol and let him know you were leaving and then you’d be back in thirty minutes.

you knocked on the door, but no response. you hoped that it wasn’t going to be like this for the rest of his recovery. “i’m coming in, seungcheol,” you called opening the door.

but when you entered you were met with an empty bed. your eyebrows furrowed. you noticed the empty plate of his dinner. then you noticed his wheelchair was gone, and the faint glow of light from under the bathroom door.

you didn’t hear the shower running, so maybe he was just using the bathroom. yet, something in your gut told you otherwise. you made your way over to the bathroom door and pressed your ear against it. you heard quiet sniffling.

oh.

“seungcheol? are you in there?” you asked. dumb question, but you didn’t know what else to lead with. no response. “seungcheol, are you okay?” obviously not. “seungcheol, if you don’t answer me, i’m coming in.”

“no, please. please don’t come in,” he responded finally. “i’m fine.”

“no you’re not. i can help, seungcheol. let me help. what’s going on?” you called. there was a hesitation before he spoke, “i- i don’t know how to do this.”

“what is this?” you asked again for clarification.

“cleaning. i don’t know to do it with this thing on my leg.” that made sense. you already knew he was going to need help with that. you just wished he would’ve come to you first. “can i come in?” you hoped he would say yes.

“no,” he said.

“why not?”

“i don’t want you to see me like this.”

“this isn’t the time to act modest. i’m here to help.” there was a deep sigh on the other side of the door. finally, you heard some shuffling and the door was open. you walked in and took in your surroundings. seungcheol was without a shirt and pants. he sat slumped in his wheelchair as he quickly tried to wipe his tears.  you saw some bruises that covered his abdomen. you also noticed how he looked skinnier. that must be why his mom wanted to make sure he was eating. the cover for his cast was sitting on the counter, so you grabbed it.

you knelt down next to him, he wasn’t looking at you. you looked into the shower and noticed the shower chair. “seungcheol, i’m gonna put a towel under you right now, so can you lift yourself up a little?” you said grabbing a towel to put onto the seat of the wheelchair. he did, and you tried your best to arrange it. “can you stand at all?” you asked. he huffed and pushed himself up, and used you as a brace. 

you guided him into his walk-in shower and helped him sit down. you paused and looked at him closely. he looked so tired, which was expected, but there was something else there. you just couldn’t put your finger on it. “i need you to take off your underwear, unless you want to shower in them,” you directed. he glared at you and mumbled something. “what was that?” you asked.

“i don’t-” he began.

“now is not the time to be modest,” you chided. 

“no! i don’t want you to see me like this! i don’t want you to see me all broken and bruised! it’s not right that my mother asked you to do this! just leave! i know you don’t want to be here, so just go. it’s already humiliating enough,” he heaved. you felt your jaw tighten and your fingers clawed at your sides. you didn’t want to respond to that, at least not at that moment. “take off your underwear, seungcheol,” you ordered, crossing your arms. he finally looked at you in your eyes, and he pushed his underwear off. you had to help him get it over his cast, but otherwise, it was seamless. next, you grabbed the cast cover which was essentially a glorified plastic bag, and slid it over his bandaged leg. 

seungcheol’s eyes were downcast again, and he refused to acknowledge you. his shower head was detachable and handheld, so you took it down and placed it closer to him. he still wasn’t looking at you. although you really needed to get some stuff from your apartment, you could stay. when you started rolling up your sleeves on your work blouse and slipping out of your house slippers, seungcheol stared at you incredulously. you stepped into the shower and turned on the water. you made sure the head was facing the ground as you waited for it to warm up. “what are you doing?” he asked. he almost sounded angry, but that could be addressed later. you snatched the washcloth that was hanging on a hook inside the shower and found his shampoo and conditioner. he leaned over and grabbed your wrist, it wasn’t harsh or forceful, just him. “what are you doing?” he repeated.

“taking care of you,” you said shortly. “now close your eyes. tell me if it’s too hot.” he released your wrist and there was that look again. you had to figure out what that was about. you raised the shower head and soaked his hair, and promptly began to lather his shampoo into his hair. he seemed to relax at that. you ran your hands through his hair like you used to. he liked it when you tugged at his strands. it brought him a comfort he couldn’t describe. yet, his hair was shorter now, not the longer strands that you were used to. you wondered what made him cut it, but you knew now wasn’t the time to ask about it. 

the rest of the shower went without any hitch. your hands running over the broad expanse of his back. something about that moment was so domestic, intimate, yet you knew you couldn’t have it the way you wanted it. the way you wanted him. so, you pushed it down, just like the way you did when you noticed him distancing himself from you and drowning himself in his work. 

you helped him get into some clean clothes and bed after he brushed his teeth and dried his body. after you brought him his pain medication with a glass of water to stick next to his bed, you were about to go out and run to your apartment. he saw you rustling around in your bag that you left in his room. “what are you doing?” he asked.

“looking for my keys,” you replied.

“why?”

“so i can go home and grab some things. i’ll be working from home, i mean, i’ll be working here while i help you.” god, why did you call his apartment home? it hadn’t been your home for so long. “i’ll be back soon. i’ll be quiet when i come back so just sleep.”

“no, don’t go.”

“pardon?”

“don’t go.” he stared at you like a petulant child. was this a symptom of a concussion? “seungcheol, i have to go get some of my things. i don’t really want to sleep in my work clothes,” you tried to reason with the pouting man. 

“you left some of your clothes. t-shirts and stuff. sweatpants. just wear that. it’s too late for you to leave now. it wouldn’t be safe,” he shrugged but winced. that was the bruised lung. you didn’t know you left your things over, if you did you would’ve made one more trip to pick them up. 

but…

seungcheol didn’t throw out the clothes you left behind. was he stashing them in case he had another girl come over that needed to borrow clothes? was he saving them for a special time to burn them? why did he keep your clothes? 

no matter, it was no use arguing with seungcheol, and you were tired. you hadn’t even had time to process the fact he had been in an accident, to begin with. “where?” you asked turning back around.

“in my closet, where your clothes usually are.” he looked at you like it was obvious. why would it be obvious? you wanted to scream. a normal person after a breakup usually burns the things their ex left behind, or they maybe just throw them out on the street. they don’t keep it in the same place in the closet. you breathed deeply to calm your mind. now was not the time to address the elephant in the room. “i’ll be getting a shower then,” you said, eyeing him suspiciously. he just nodded and turned to face the window. 

the shower was uneventful other than the thousands of thoughts flowing through your mind. you hoped that they would leave you and flow down the drain. when you finally got out of the shower, you realized you would have to walk through seungcheol’s bedroom to get to the couch. hopefully, he was knocked out. you slid on the clothes that you had left there. it was an old sweatshirt and pajama bottoms, but it would get the job done for the night. the smelled like they were cleaned with his detergent, and you weren’t sure if you loved it or if you wanted it off of your body forever. you tried the best you could to open the door as quietly as possible, and it seemed to work. you were basically out the door without seungcheol waking up or noticing you. that is until he did. “where are you going?” he asked. you hung your head, your hand leaving the doorknob. “to the couch,” you replied.

“why?”

now, there was something seriously wrong with him. you glanced around the room, searching for an answer. “because i’m going to sleep on the couch,” you scrutinized him a bit further. he stared at you with the same confusion. he seemingly picked up on the mutual tension and confusion in the air, “i’ll sleep on the couch, you sleep here,” he clarified. you choked on air. he must have more than a concussion, he had amnesia of some sort because you don’t just let your ex sleep in your bed, especially after you had been in a serious accident. 

you had to snap yourself out of the trance you were in before seungcheol could even attempt to get out of bed, which he was already in the process of trying. rushing over to him and pushing him back under the covers was more of a feat than you thought it was going to be. he seemed adamant about having you stay in his bed while he went to the couch. you were getting deja vu or something to the fights leading up to the end of your relationship. 

“no, i’ll take the couch,” he had insisted.

“no, this is your home and your bed. i’ll just stay on the couch since you don’t want me to go to my apartment,” you had refused. “talk in the morning?”

“yeah sure.”

“no, you’re the guest here, i’ll take the couch,” he shrugged, once again trying to push himself up. you placed a hand on his shoulder. “seungcheol, i wasn’t the one in a car accident,” you reasoned. “you won’t be comfortable on the couch.”

“just- just let me do something for you,” he muttered under his breath. you don’t think you were supposed to hear it, but you did. 

“the best thing you can do for me is to sleep in your own bed and heal.” his gaze lifted and looked at yours. he looked utterly exhausted, and to be honest, you probably looked the same. he inhaled deeply and sat back against his headrest in concession. you smiled at him and before you could stop yourself, you ran your hand through his hair which he happily accepted. “good night, seungcheol,” you said.

“good night,” he replied sounding more at ease. in another lifetime, there would be more to this than a simple good night, but in this lifetime it was different. so much different than you ever hoped for.

“i love you, cheol.”

“i love you too, ___.”

the crick in your back was going to be the death of you, but oh well, you already called into work and took the next week off before you started working remotely. minjeong was surprised that you even agreed to this in the first place. “___, he was an asshole to you,” she pointed out over the phone. you were currently lugging your stuff down the hall to seungcheol’s apartment, phone dangerously stuck between your shoulder and cheek. “he wasn’t an asshole,” you argued. for some reason, the need to defend seungcheol still ran through your veins. 

“he was, ___. he was,” minjeong sighed. you knew that she was right, but you needed to believe that the breakup was caused all just a big misunderstanding and move on. “i’ve got to go, minnie,” you sighed reaching seungcheol’s doorway.

“___, don’t- ugh, don’t do anything you’ll regret. he didn’t treat you right. he wasn’t toxic, but he was definitely neglectful to you,” she groaned.

“it’s not like i’m going to crawl back to him. i’m just helping him.”

“but why should you?”

seungcheol had some bad habits, and it didn’t always end up well for you.  

“cheol, what are you-” you were promptly cut off when seungcheol pressed his lips against yours with an energy that felt unfamiliar. it was just the average evening, so you didn’t understand why he was kissing you like that. not that he had to have a reason to kiss you, it’s just that it hadn’t happened in so long. you had been with him long enough to know how passionate he was about, well, everything. but, this felt different. not saying it was bad. you craved him being this close for weeks, and he was finally in your grasp.  his hands were planted firmly on your waist and he moved you to where he pleased. “come on, baby, just let me feel you,” he smiled against your lips. 

call you touch-starved (which you were), but you couldn’t help melting into him. this was the most attention you had felt from him in so long. “cheol, please,” you gasped as his lips traveled down your neck. he pulled you infinitely closer and you let him. yet, something was nagging at you. your stomach began to drop as his hands began to slide under your shirt. sinking suspicions started to bubble up through your heart. “cheol, kiss me,” you begged, not wanting your thoughts to be true. he hummed and obliged. he pressed his lips against yours in this new fervor. the heat between you was becoming unbearable as your suspicion was correct. 

beer.

the faint taste of it lingered on his tongue, and it made you want to throw up. for the first time in who knows how long, he touches you like he’s never done before but only because he’s intoxicated. great. you pushed him away. “did you drive home by yourself?” you asked gazing into his tired eyes. 

“no, i had joshua drop me off,” he murmured, hands still not leaving your skin, but that’s all you wanted him to do. just get off of me, is what you wanted to yell. how dare you come here drunk and treat me better than you ever have sober for the past months, is what you wanted to scream. “i think it’s time for you to go to bed, cheol,” you opted for instead. he shook his head still grasping at you. “don’t touch me anymore, seungcheol,” you hissed, swatting his hand away and pulling him to his bathroom.

she didn’t sound angry, just exasperated. she had a point. there was no reason why you should offer your help to him. seungcheol never made time for you when you were together, why were you making time for him yet again? it was major deja vu. “look, he wasn’t nice to me, yes. i hated him for a long time, maybe i still do. but, his mom called me, so i feel like i’m doing it for her. not for him,” you attempted to justify. minjeong scoffed. it was a deserved scoff, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. minjeong was there when things ended with seungcheol, so she would know the entire situation from the most unbiased, well sort of unbiased, outside position. she was your friend, and it was only natural for her to want to protect you. you couldn’t fault her for that. “i just want what’s best for you, and i’m not convinced helping him through recovery is the best plan,” she sighed.

“i know. you know he hurt me, i won’t let it happen again. i have no intention of getting back with him. you’re right. he was an asshole. i’ve got to go. talk later?” you asked carefully reaching for the spare set of keys his mom gave you.

“let me kick his ass if he hurts you again.”

“i will.”

“talk later! i’m going to miss you at work. love you!”

“love you too.”

after you successfully hung up without dropping your bags, phone, or keys, you opened the door to the kitchen light on. that’s weird. you were pretty sure you left it off when you went to get your stuff. you kicked off your shoes and made your way into to kitchen, your luggage bag dragging behind you. 

you were greeted by seungcheol attempting to push himself up from his wheelchair to wash some fruit in the sink. “seungcheol! what are you doing?” you rushed to his side. he glanced over his shoulder at you. he sort of gave you some dumb look like he didn’t know what was wrong. “you shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this,” you chided. “i can wash these. you need to go back to bed. you should rest.”

“i think i can handle washing some fruit,” he scoffed slumping down in a chair. you rolled your eyes. “it’s not about washing fruit, i know you’re perfectly capable of washing fruit. you were in a car accident a few days ago. you shouldn’t be pushing yourself to get up,” you explained. he just mumbled something under his breath and tried to maneuver his way out of the kitchen. you watched him carefully as he made his way back into his room, and you heard him sigh when he shut the door behind him. 

you had a sinking feeling that this was going to be a long recovery process, for the both of you.

it once again time for seungcheol to go to the doctor. the past few weeks had been back and forth to doctor’s appointments. his concussion was going down. to say things were going well would be a stretch. seungcheol barely spoke to you. you didn’t necessarily expect him to be buddy-buddy with you, but it was strange. he always tried to avoid looking at you. you weren’t sure what you did to deserve this treatment, after all, he was the one who broke up with you.

sleeping on the couch for the past weeks was not ideal. working from seungcheol’s home office was not ideal either. it was weird getting on video calls when you were so used to walking to meetings with minjeong. seungcheol tried his best to not disturb you, but sometimes he would knock on the door and sheepishly ask you for help with something.

the drive to the doctor’s and the check-up itself were uneventful. his leg was healing nicely, and they even decided it was time for a boot, which was great because you could tell he was getting sick of sitting down all the time. “well, mr. choi, it looks like your lung is looking a lot better based off of the scans, and according to your…” dr. hwang paused looking in your direction. seungcheol looked at you briefly like was afraid of what you were going to say. 

you weren’t necessarily worried about getting kicked out because you weren’t immediate family, but for some reason, you chose against saying you were his friend. “i’m his girlfriend,” you bit the bullet. you hoped it didn’t seem too unnatural when you said it. you saw seungcheol’s ears perk up, but he still didn’t address you. 

dr. hwang looked between the two of you seemingly wanting to say something but didn’t. “ah, i see. well you’ve been taking amazing care of mr. choi. according to your girlfriend, you seem to have an easier time breathing. she also said you’re reporting less pain in your head. this is good, since we usually expect swelling and inflammation from a concussion goes down pretty quickly. your concussion should be largely gone by next week, but i would advise against going back to work for some time. you can start walking on this as soon as you feel comfortable, until then use crutches. but, don’t drive until i give you the okay,” dr. hwang rambled, turning back to his computer. 

you could tell seungcheol was excited, maybe he was excited that you would be leaving soon. your stomach sank at the thought, but you didn’t know why. seungcheol barely spoke to you, he couldn’t even look you in the eye most of the time. so, why did you feel bad about the thought of leaving him? you were snapped out of your thoughts when you realized dr. hwang had asked you a question. “um, if you could give me a moment alone with mr. choi, that would be great. i can take him out front once we’re done,” dr. hwang fiddled with his pen as he addressed you. 

“yeah, of course. i’ll uh, i’ll just be in the waiting room. 

after what seemed like an eternity, the two of them came out. dr. hwang smiled at you, and seungcheol looked nervous, finally putting a little weight on his foot with the help of some crutches. “thank you so much, dr. hwang. you’ve been so helpful,” you smiled at him. dr. hwang reciprocated it and patted seungcheol on the back. “mr. choi, look out for yourself. i’ll see you in a few weeks,” he said. seungcheol nodded. 

the ride home was quiet, as always. by now you had grown used to it. when you arrived at seungcheol’s apartment and parked the car, he grabbed your hand before you could leave. “do you want to watch a movie tonight?” he asked. hold on, what? “we can order some take out or something.” maybe dr. hwang was wrong. maybe the swelling in his brain was actually worse. 

your lack of response must’ve freaked seungcheol out. “we don’t have to! i was just thinking it could be a celebratory thing,” he tried to backtrack. 

“no! i’d love- no, i mean, i’d like to watch a movie tonight. that would be nice,” you rushed to cut him off. your heart fluttered at the notion of watching a movie with seungcheol. maybe you could pretend just a little longer…

“what?” minjeong exclaimed. she was not happy with the current situation. 

“minnie, when he asked me if i wanted to watch a movie with him my heart fluttered. what’s wrong with me?” you cried, flopping against the couch, turning down the volume on speaker phone. seungcheol had left to get showered and changed. luckily, you didn’t have to help him much with that anymore. “you’re still in love with him, ___,” minjeong sighed. “i feared this would happen. you cannot let him get in your head! remember how he treated you before! just yesterday he wasn’t even speaking with you, he’s probably just manipulating you or something.” 

you couldn’t fathom him doing that. sure, he neglected you in your relationship, but he was never manipulative. “i don’t-” you began, but you were promptly cut off.

“you don’t get it, ___! you’re in a vulnerable state because you still love him and you’ve been waiting hand and foot to him, so he sees this as an opportunity to make something out of nothing.”

“if i love him, how is it nothing?”

“because you’re going to make it nothing. you can’t just let yourself fall back into his lap because he decided he wanted a movie night!”

“i don’t think it’s that easy.”

“you’re right, it’s not. that’s why you need to wrap up business there and get back to your life. your life where you can be free and meet whoever you want. where you don’t have to worry about the asshole who treated you like shit.”

“he didn’t treat me like shit.”

“he treated you like you barely even existed.”

you knew she wasn’t trying to be mean, but it did feel like she was opening an old wound. 

so much for that dinner you made. the time you wasted was eating at you as you picked through the remnants of your food. it was your first day off in a while and you hoped to spend some of it with your boyfriend before having to go back to work the next day.

 it was your bad to even think seungcheol would be home at the time he had said. you stared at seungcheol’s now cold meal. for the fifth time, you flipped your phone over to see what time it was. 11:47 pm and no word from him. you sighed and went to clear your plate. you wrapped up seungcheol’s meal and put it in the fridge. after all, he would be hungry when he got home. 

“hello? ___, are you still with me?” minjeong snapped you out of your thoughts.

“yeah, sorry,” you rushed out. “look, i think seungcheol is almost out of the shower. i’ve got to go. i’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“i’m sorry if i come off too cold.” she sounded like she was regretting what she said earlier. she knew how to read you like a book even if it was just over a phone call. “it’s alright. you’re my best friend, i know you wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt me. now, i have to go now, for real this time,” you chuckled and hung up after you said goodbye to her. 

you jumped a mile when you heard a clanking noise behind you. when you whipped around you saw seungcheol standing there, eyes wide, you felt something stir in your chest. he was leaning on a crutch with his leg wrapped in the bandages. he told dr. hwang that he wouldn’t wear the boot to bed. dr. hwang was reluctant but relented since the break was healing nicely and the boot wasn’t needed at night. his hair was damp, a plain white t-shirt clung to his body, and pajama pants hung loosely off his hips. something about this image looked so familiar, yet so distant.“sorry,” he mumbled leaning over to pick up the bowl he dropped, surprisingly it didn’t shatter on the hardwood floor. “no, wait, i’ll get it,” you said, pushing forward, frowning at the precarious nature of his stance. he straightened up and watched you pick up the bowl. “how long were you standing there? i could’ve helped,” you asked turning to go place the bowl in the sink.

“not long,” he rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “do you still want to watch a movie with me?” you nodded quietly and made your way to the couch. he followed behind and landed on the couch with a thud. “what do you want to watch?” you asked flipping the tv on.

“um, i’m not sure. i haven’t watched a lot of movies lately.” he shrugged. this was going to be harder than expected. instead of attempting to engage in this painful discussion, you opted to start scrolling through one of seungcheol’s million streaming apps. 

you scrolled through movie after movie with varying enthusiasm levels from seungcheol. “stop, let’s just watch this one,” he suddenly said. if you were being honest, you stopped paying attention to the movie titles a long time ago. so when you saw “the notebook” as the selected movie, your jaw slackened. “you want to watch this?” you asked, making sure he meant that. 

“i mean, i remembered when you showed me it, and i rewatched it recently. i really like it nowadays,” he said nonchalantly. you had shown him “the notebook” a long time ago. you had to beg him to watch it, and you remembered how he ended up crying by the conclusion. but now, it was strange to hear that he enjoyed the movie. not only that, but he remembered that you showed him the film. it was years ago, and he remembered. “okay, yeah, let’s watch it,” you said pressing play. 

you were getting major deja vu while you watched it. seungcheol was curled up next to you, and somehow you found yourself curled up next to him. this hardly happened when you were together, and it made your heart hurt that it was happening after you had broken up. was a car accident what you needed to be close to him? you didn’t need to think about it now, not when you could smell his shampoo and fabric softener. it was so familiar, but you knew you couldn’t get too comfortable. after all, you weren’t his anymore, and he wasn’t interested. yet, something was scratching at the back of your throat. an urge. a desire. a feeling you thought was better to push down.

 the movie was long over, but seungcheol had drifted off to sleep about twenty minutes before the movie ended. you didn’t have the heart to wake him, so you let him rest for a while before you lightly shook him awake. his eyes fluttered open and held your gaze with an expression you couldn’t pinpoint. “alright, sleeping beauty, time to get you into bed,” you smiled softly involuntarily running a hand through his hair. he seemingly leaned into your touch while looking around. “is the movie over? why didn’t you wake me?” he asked. you just shushed him quietly and helped him up. he held onto your shoulders and let you guide him to his bed. after a bit of work, you got him under the covers and on his pillow. when you moved to get up, his hand shot out and grasped your wrist. your neck whipped back at him. “what’s wrong?” you quizzed. 

“stay,” is all he said, eyes closing. 

you sighed. you couldn’t give in to him. you had set your boundaries, you were here to help that’s all. but, the longer you were with him, you realized the reasons why you hated him melted away within hours of being around him more. minjeong needed to be here to snap you out of it. “of course, he’s being nice to you now. don’t forget why you broke up in the first place,” she would’ve said. yet, she wasn’t here, and you were weak for him. as much as you would like to deny it, you knew you’d always crawl back to him. in this life and the next. 

there couldn’t be any harm in staying with him, right? it was just one night. he wouldn’t try anything. he wasn’t like that. he didn’t even feel that way for you anymore. he definitely didn’t seem too bothered when you gave in and slid under the covers with him. to your surprise when you started to situate yourself, you felt his arms wrap under your body and pull you to the opposite side of the bed. just like old times. he always insisted to sleep closest to the door. he had told you it was a win-win for the both of you. he could have the comfort of feeling like he was protecting you, and you got the nice view out of his window on the opposite side of the room. you assured him back then that you didn’t need protection, but you never fought with him to switch positions. 

you had grown used to his arm around your waist each night, and after you broke up you longed for his presence. you had cuddled your pillows and called minjeong. everything and anything to keep your mind off the empty space in your bed. so, now when you felt his arm wrap around you and his body pressed against yours, you froze. why did the thing you wanted for the past seven months cause you so much discomfort? being this close to him was like stepping into the salty waves at the beach with a cut you thought healed. your eyes began to sting, and you pleaded with your heart to not start shaking your body. you naturally moved closer to him when his grip became tighter around your waist, but your heart cried for the rest of the night.

when you woke up, you surprised yourself realizing you had a dreamless night. your chest hurt, but your eyes were dry. you turned over and noticed seungcheol’s side of the bed was empty. his boot was gone, so he must’ve put it on. you didn’t hear anything coming from the kitchen right outside the room, albeit his apartment was quite small and his living room was right there too. you slid on a hoodie and made your way out of his room to find where he went. maybe he was just as freaked out as you were, so maybe he just left to get some air. if you were him, you probably would’ve done to same. you wanted to kick yourself for falling into his lap again. maybe he regretted inviting you to stay, and now he was disgusted with himself for letting his ex sleep in the same bed as him again. your rational mind told you that wasn’t true. he wasn’t like that. yet, that’s what you told yourself when he show up late to numerous dates or just forget to message you. 

you heard quiet arguing as soon as you stepped out of his room. you looked down to the front door and saw seungcheol leaning against the doorframe. his body wedged between the door and doorframe, effectively blocking your view of who was there. you quietly shuffled forward, trying not to startle him. “i just don’t understand why you’re here?” seungcheol asked, almost sounding stern.

“i’m just dropping off some paperwork,” the person on the other side of the door said. the voice sounded familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “how’d you know where she was?” seungcheol grilled, sounding more frustrated with every passing second. 

“look, dude, i’m just here to drop off some stuff from work. minjeong told me,” the guy tried again to reason with seungcheol. you recognized seungcheol’s tone, he got like that whenever he was jealous, but you couldn’t fathom why he would be jealous. you looked past seungcheol and saw changkyun standing there with a case file in hand. “oh my god, seungcheol, stop it. this is changkyun from work,” you nudged seungcheol to the side trying not to surprise him, but you were still upset he was berating your work friend. 

“oh, hey, ___. minjeong sent me with these files. let me or minjeong know if you need anything else,” changkyun smiled at you. “i’ll let you go, you seem- um- preoccupied. but, we miss you at the office,” he glanced at seungcheol who was scowling at the ground. 

“yeah, sorry about that. thank you for bringing this around. this is super helpful. i was getting tired of reading pdfs,” you laughed. “i’ll see you later.” changkyun nodded and left without another word. you shut the door and brushed past seungcheol. you heard an audible huff behind you but ignored it. after you dropped off the case of files in the office, breakfast was seemingly the best option for you. 

seungcheol was already in the kitchen leaning against the fridge. it was highly inconvenient given you needed to get in there for some fruit. however, he wasn’t moving. “what are you doing?” you asked crossing your arms. he didn’t respond, just looking anywhere but at you. “what’s going on with you? what was with that attitude with changkyun?” you grilled, but you were only met with a scoff. now, that was weird. he sounded jealous, but there was nothing to be jealous of. “what’s wrong with you?” you frowned. 

“why does it matter?” he mocked. you squinted your eyes at him. compared to last night’s situation, this was an entirely different person. “why does it matter? it’s just weird that he’d show up here unannounced,” seungcheol shrugged. 

“he was here because minjeong sent him,” you stared him down.

“why couldn’t she come then? just seems like it’s a cover for him to see you. you didn’t tell me you were talking with someone else.”

“because i’m not talking to changkyun. i’m not talking to anyone. but, why does this matter so much to you? it’s not like he came in the house and started wrecking anything. he just dropped some stuff off.”

“we miss you at the office.”

“what?”

“that’s what he said.”

“i’m not following.” 

seungcheol sighed and pushed himself off the fridge and over to his chair, groaning and stretching his leg once he was sitting. “god, ___, don’t be blind. he’s obviously into you,” he laughed humorlessly. now you were even more confused. “so what if he is? i’m not,” you shrugged, opening the fridge to get your fruit and yogurt. 

“yeah, sure. whatever, that’s not the point,” seungcheol huffed again.

“then what is the point?” 

“that he tried to come here and flirt with you when i’m right here!” he finally snapped. “it’s embarrassing! he looked at me with all this pity when i opened the door. i don’t want his pity. then you come around the corner, and he’s smiling ear to ear.” seungcheol looked like he was about to cry. you wanted to say something, but all you could was look at him, confused. “you pity me too. everyone does!” he rambled. “it’s so humiliating. and, and, i’m sure that you’d be happier at the office where he is. he’s more handsome than i am, and i’m sure he’s smarter and kinder than me. you deserve to go out and just leave me here. you don’t even want to be here. i see the way you look at me. it’s not the same way i look at you, so i couldn’t possibly as you to stay. why don’t you just go date a guy like that? i’m sure he can treat you better than- than me.”

you stood there dumbfounded. your heart ached for seungcheol, but you couldn’t stop the boiling anger in your stomach. how could he possibly think so lowly of himself? did he not see how you were still so infatuated with him? did he not realize the reason why you hadn’t talked to anyone new was because of him? and for him to accuse you of pitying him, after all the care you put into helping him get better. to accuse you of not wanting to be there, with him. you wouldn’t haven’t been here if you didn’t care. you knew you cared too much for seungcheol, for someone who you knew didn’t even care about you. what made him any different from back when you were dating? 

“you’re so cruel,” you whispered, grabbing your food and heading to the office. 

there was radio silence for the next few hours. you would occasionally hear something, but seungcheol never knocked or tried to come in. the tip-toeing around each other was killing you. it felt awfully familiar to when seungcheol became distant from you before the two of you broke up. work was monotonous and nothing was holding your attention. all you could think about was what seungcheol said. you didn’t realize he felt that way about himself, or you for that matter. it hurt, and it hurt even more to wallow in it when he was right on the other side of the door. 

you couldn’t be the same person you were seven months ago. pushing down your concerns, hoping they would pass. they wouldn’t, you knew that, unless you talked to him. he would be getting better soon, and you could put this in the past. you could leave again once this was all over, never to look back. you couldn’t take another heartbreak because of him again. 

so your resolve broke and you pushed yourself out of the office chair and went to find seungcheol. 

he remembered the day you left like it was yesterday. he heard you gather some things from your room and left without another word. “yeah, i guess so,” he muttered to himself angrily. “you’re such an idiot,” he continued. he didn’t even understand why he said that to you. it was uncalled for, especially given you wanted to talk about your strained relationship. he knew he was distant, but he didn’t know what else to do. so, he pushed it down until he couldn’t take it anymore, well, until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

not having you around the apartment for the first few weeks felt like torture. he had drafted and re-written several messages to you and even considered calling, but he never pulled through with any of it. his mind was constantly unfocused on his work. the work he sacrificed everything for. the work he tried so hard to keep up to help you, help the both of you. he couldn’t bring himself to eat as much as he usually did, when the pit of his stomach was killing him from the inside out.

now that you were gone he constantly tried to take his mind off of you. he couldn’t let a breakup disorient him like this. he had broken up with other people before, but never like this. he couldn’t stop replaying everything that went wrong in his mind, everything he could’ve done to stop it. maybe if he put up a fight you would’ve stayed. but, he didn’t fight at all. he cowered at the suggestion of breaking up, and instead of facing it, he fled and accepted fate. waves of uncertainty lapped at his feet and eventually, the waters rose until it was unbearable. if you wanted to break up with him then that’s what would happen, no matter what ran through his mind and heart. 

no matter the fact he had a little velvet box in the bottom of his sock drawer. 

he was going to a party. he said he would buy alcohol, so he did. while he was driving he felt something shift within him. he thought about all the parties he had taken you to, and how all parties with you there were so much more bearable. all he could think about was how bored he would be. he loved his friends, but something was missing if you weren’t also there sharing a drink or discussion with him. yet, he let joshua convince him to come out. joshua had told him not to drown in any more work. joshua saw how the work was wearing down his friend, and he couldn’t take it anymore. so, seungcheol was going to a party he didn’t particularly want to attend, but he was getting there, even if he felt himself push the accelerator down more than he should.

but something stopped him from going to the party, and now he felt like he was floating above his body. he felt waves wash over him, and when they retreated he felt cold and vulnerable. he felt dazed and had a throbbing pain in his head, leg, and heart. he remembered the beating rain against his windshield and feeling the tires give out on him. he remembered your smile and your fingers running through his then-long hair. you told him everything was going to be alright, and he believed you. then, there was a rhythmic beeping next to him, some rustling by him, and your voice was gone. his head hurt too much, but he forced his eyes open.

in some sort of last-ditch effort of hope, he thought it could be you. you could be there fixing some magazines in the room or adjusting the blinds. yet, he opened his eyes and he didn’t see you there, just a nurse organizing some of the tubes next to him. seungcheol tried turning his head around, groaning. the nurse noticed and left to go get someone. maybe it could be you. no, that wouldn’t make sense. it couldn’t be you, and it wasn’t. it was his mother. she cried and asked him if he was alright. she asked where you were and what he was doing, but he didn’t have a good response to any of her questions. when she started to pry about you, he realized he had forgotten to mention the fact you were broken up. she had called soon after it ended because it was time for her to call her son, but he went into auto-pilot and told her you were fine, and he just never got around to telling her the truth. she loved you, and he knew that.

he definitely couldn’t do it then. it would break her, just like it broke him.

when he saw you standing at the door behind his mother, he wanted to burst into tears, but it would probably hurt his lung. besides, he didn’t need you to see how broken up about it he was. everything hurt, but it only hurt more when he saw you. you looked gorgeous, and your voice was like music to his ears. what if you had a boyfriend? the thought flashed through his mind. any person would be lucky to date you, but the idea caused his stomach to roll. 

your hair looked so pretty too, but your clothes looked like a mess. he hoped he didn’t cause you too much worry.  yet, he was worried now. his lie was going to be exposed. he saw the way you looked at him, helpless and injured. you wouldn’t spare him, not after what he did. his mom was talking to you just like everything was normal, but he saw the look on your face. you were confused and probably angry. he knew you, and he knew you would correct his mom as soon as you could. so when she backed away and went to get something from the closet, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking, and that scared him. 

the last thing he expected was for you to agree and help. he also expected you to correct his mother when she went on and on about how you were his girlfriend and how she knew how much you loved each other. he could sense your discomfort anytime he was around, so he made himself scarce and tried not to be a bother. what you were doing was already such a help to him, and he had no idea how he was ever going to repay you. 

he recalled when you pushed him around in his wheelchair at the supermarket, and all he wanted to do was disappear. it was his first visit to the store for a while, and there was something especially embarrassing about having your ex push you around the market, even if they didn’t know he had broken your heart. he didn’t know why he agreed to come. he would feel your hands brush past his shoulders as you would reach to grab something before dropping it in the shopping basket sitting in his lap. the tiny bit of contact from you had him going insane. he wanted to apologize for having you here, for his mom calling, for lying, for breaking your heart. he was scared, that if he opened his mouth, his heart would betray him and he’d say something that would make you run away again. but, he knew it wasn’t the time for that, so whenever your fingers graze his shoulder he swallowed whatever apology or confession (whichever came out first) down until it reached the bottom of his heart. 

you were wheeling him past the bakery and he saw the sweet milk bread he would always get as a treat on weekends. maybe you could share it again like you used to, but he doubted it. though, before he could process it, he was clearing his throat. you paused and he sensed you looking at him. “uh-,” he paused, coughing. “can, can we get the milk bread over there?” he asked. you looked around to where he was motioning. you saw it. he felt you pause. maybe he shouldn’t have asked. “it’s no big deal, actually. it was a dumb request. never-” he rambled but all of a sudden your hands brushed over his shoulders and you walked over to the table where the freshly baked bread was packaged. you inspected one and brought it back, placing it gently on the top of seungcheol’s basket. “do you need anything else?” you asked, quietly standing behind him again. he shook his head. 

for the first few weeks, it was awkward and humiliating. he couldn’t bear you at his beck and call. he could barely even talk to you, too embarrassed. he needed to get out of the wheelchair as soon as possible. he willed his body to heal faster, so then maybe the pain that festered in his chest would go away. one night, he woke up and he was parched. he had run out of water, he must’ve forgotten to get more before he went to bed. he also noticed his stomach was growling. he had refused to eat anything for dinner. once again, his bad. it reminded him of the time when he would come home late to a dark home. he was starving, but he knew you had eaten. you had long gone to bed, but he smelled the food you cooked. he looked in the fridge and saw his helping there. he sighed. he knew it was your day off that day, but he couldn’t seem to draw himself away from his work. got too distracted.

so, he needed water and food, but to get there he would have to get out of his room and into the kitchen. specifically, he needed to get past you on the couch without waking you. pushing himself out of bed, he reached for his crutches. he got them secured under his arms and made his way out of his open door. you had insisted on keeping it open, so you could hear him if he needed anything. but, he saw the way you walked into his room deflated, leaving his dinner on his bedside table, cleaning the barely touched food an hour later, and retreating to the couch to sleep after a presumably hard day at work. he wouldn’t be able to bear it if he woke you up now. 

he stepped as lightly as he could given his situation, but you were out like a light. he contained a chuckle seeing you all curled up on his couch. though, he did feel bad. the couch was no place to sleep for a long time. if only he could share his bed with you and not make it weird… he quietly ate a protein bar and got a glass of milk. he watched from the kitchen how smooth your breathing was. he frowned when you began to toss and turn. he wiped his mouth and moved over to you. after resting his crutches on the floor, he sat on the ottoman in from of the couch, closest to your head. he leaned forward and watched your troubled expression. sometimes he would press a kiss on your forehead, but that would be entirely inappropriate. yet, he couldn’t do anything while he watched this perfect person in front of him suffer.

so, his hand was reaching forward and caressing your cheek before he knew it. your skin felt amazing under his fingertips. he missed holding your hand, hugging you from behind, and kissing your lips. he wondered how he could’ve messed up this horribly. he felt your breath even out, and he noticed how your brow un-furrowed. gently pulling back his hand, he smiled and made his way back to his room. it was only then after he crossed the doorway, he realized what he had done. the clear boundary he had tried to maintain melted within those twenty minutes of him getting a midnight snack. he didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting from you. he wished you would yell and scream at him for what he did. resentment. he yearned for you to resent him, but no, you had to come and be the amazing person you were. he couldn’t let himself feel this close to you again.

but, he broke his promise. just like he always did. he invited you to sleep in his bed after a movie night he suggested. after offering, he realized he probably shouldn’t have offered the movie in the first place, but hindsight is 20-20. it felt too inappropriate, unspeakable even. especially, after he caught what minjeong was saying to you before you turned on the movie. he shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but minjeong was yelling on the other side of the phone and no matter how much you could turned down the volume, he still would’ve heard it. 

“he treated you like you barely even existed,” minjeong had said.

now, he didn’t want to believe that, but he knew it was true. working longer hours, barely seeing you, and coming home at odd hours of the night were all factors which were purely his fault. he could’ve requested time off, but he didn’t. it was his ambition that blinded him. the thought that if he worked hard enough now, he could be with you more later. but, he had forgotten he wasn’t the only person in the equation, and you only had so much patience. the patience he had wrongfully wasted. 

your back was turned to him. he didn’t know why it hurt so much given the situation. being face-to-face in bed would be too intimate. too dangerous. yet, that’s all he wanted. he longed to feel your body next to his, to know that what was once shared between you was still there. so, he took a risk. he reached forward and pressed his chest against your back, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. 

he waited and waited for you to pull away, and much to his surprise, you never did. you stayed in his arms like old times, but he knew it couldn’t be like that. he didn’t know if he could ever have you like this again. the recovery period of you taking care of him was painful on a multitude of levels. he was giving you space since he already felt like a burden, and it appeared to him like he was the plague. it was for the best, but he still wanted to hold you and kiss you to show his thanks. all he could do was say thank you and quietly retreat back into his mind. so, he held you like it was the last time, which it likely was, and he fell into a deeper, quieter sleep for the first time in weeks. the waves retreated and did not come back for the rest of the night. 

who was this guy standing at his door? why were you smiling so widely at this guy? why was this guy smiling so widely back at you? did he just sleep in the same bed with you when you had a boyfriend? so many questions, and so little patience left on his end. this guy was so handsome, with a sharp nose and intense eyes. he could see how you could go to someone like that, someone completely opposite of him. any hope of last night not being a one-off thing leaving his mind. the guy glanced over at him and gave him a look he was all too familiar with. the old ladies at the supermarket gave him this look. his mother gave him this look. even you sometimes. he was broken and mangled and people loved to look. so, to hide their nosiness, they concealed it with concern and pity. he hated that. sometimes you would do it, and he wanted to rip his hair out. he hated it when you would generate idle conversation or say his name like some sort of swear word. what ever happened to being your cheol? 

the doubt came flooding back into his mind, and he was lost in the sea of his own thoughts again. the waves were back, and he didn’t know how to keep them at bay. the tide was coming in stronger, and he could feel every brick he had built crumble under the pressure. when could this conversation be over?

he didn’t mean to lash out at you and your work friend. it was the waves. the waves that splashed into his face. the water that fell into his throat and choked him. he had to spit it out or it was going to drown him. every little thing he had hidden away came out. the confessions, insecurities, and everything else that held him back now and back then. he just needed to get it out before the waves came crashing in on him again when you would inevitably leave. 

“you’re so cruel,” you had said, and you were right. he was. how could he be so cruel to one of the only people who ever showed him unconditional kindness? it was over, and he knew it. 

all of his memories felt disjointed. almost as if someone had glued them together into a scrapbook. you were trying so hard to follow what he was telling you. the entire time he refused to look at you. his hands were clasped together, face flushed. “i suppose that was a long winded way to say i’m sorry,” he said finally looking at you for the first time. “i’m sorry for treating you so horribly when we were together, and even now. i’m sorry for standing you up and coming home drunk. you’re right, i am cruel, and i will never forgive myself for how i treated you,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. 

you knew he had problems with anxiety and doubt, but you never thought it was this bad. you were mad at him, but you wished he had told you. told you about how he felt like he was drowning everywhere he went. “seungcheol, i-” you began but he cut you off.

“i understand if you want to leave. i can just have joshua take me to physical therapy and my appointments. i’ve asked you to stay for too long. it wasn’t right of me. if anything, i owe you so much. you shouldn’t have to be forced to be anywhere you don’t want to be,” he said. 

you stared at him. you had never seen him so defeated. when you came to talk to him, you didn’t expect him to be the one prepared with an apology. you just wanted to talk, but now that you began piecing together the things he told you. you realized how much he did care. he saw the food you made for him. he saw the effort you put in. for some reason, that just made you feel a little better. you always felt like he didn’t see you, but he did. this entire time. “what if i want to be here?” you asked, meeting his gaze. his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips. “then, i would ask you to stay. i would promise to treat you the way you deserve. i would make every wrong i made right with you,” he confessed, moving closer to you on the couch. he reached forward and grabbed your hand. “i'm sorry for being such an asshole to you. i would apologize every second of every day.anything to get you to trust me again,” he continued. “anything so i can be yours.”

your heart felt full. it was healing. for some reason, you believed him. minjeong would probably yell at you for “falling for his trap,” but you had a feeling he was telling the truth, that he wasn’t going to mess it up again. “then, let’s start over,” you smiled, eyes welling up. he lifted a hand and gently wiped the tears that threatened to fall with his thumb. “gladly,” he smiled. you pulled your hand away from the one he was grasping at, and extended it to him. “i’m ___, nice to meet you,” you smiled. he grinned, glancing between your face and your outstretched hand. “nice to meet you too. i’m seungcheol,” he said clasping your hands together. he felt the waves were receding, and by the look on your face, you felt it too. 

you were out shopping for what felt like the fourth time this week. you just kept forgetting something on your list that honestly couldn’t wait until the next week. then your phone began to ring. you slid it out of your pocket and answered it. “what am i forgetting?” you asked as soon as the line connected. 

“nothing, i was just wondering if you could get some milk bread,” the voice on the other side of the phone asked. you laughed quietly to yourself. “what’s the occasion?” you joked.

“it’s the weekend, and i love you,” seungcheol said. you felt your heart soar. you sighed happily and made your way over to the milk bread. you were still on the line with him, and you could hear him humming. maybe now was the time you brought it up. “so, you want the same kind from the bakery, right?” you asked, stalling. 

“of course,” he scoffed. “the fresh ones from the bakery are obviously superior to the ones that one brand makes.” it was funny since he said it like it was obvious. you hummed and placed one of the loaves in your cart. “is there anything else?” you asked. you heard seungcheol shifting around. “nope, that should be all for me,” he replied. 

“everything i’m getting is for you,” you rolled your eyes. he chuckled. you continued to chat with him as you walked through the store, picking up a few leftover things. you decided it would be a good time to end the call when you got to the register, but not before you brought it up. “look, cheol, i’m at the register, so i’ll have to go,” you said, getting in line. 

“oh, okay, sounds good. i’ll see you at home?” he asked to confirm.

“yes, after i get back, though, can we talk about that red velvet box in your sock drawer?” you smirked. 

“yeah, sure of co- wait! how do you know about that?” seungcheol took a second to process what you had told him. he sounded frantic on the other side of the phone, and it made you laugh. “oh, looks like the line is moving, i’ve got to go! we’ll talk more when i get back, right?” you smiled.

“yes, for sure, yes! we will be talking because you weren’t supposed to see that!” seungcheol exclaimed. “see you soon, i love you, ___.”

“i love you too, cheol,” you replied easily. because, in this life, you loved him, and he loved you back.  

minli | sort of proofread! working on it… i think the plot makes sense… right… please say it does. this has sort of been my child for the past month or so… i actually used the max amount of pictures in this LOL ASLDKJ. please leave some feedback if you want :) likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated :)

tagging | @a-wandering-stay @cinnamoroxie @wonwoosthetic

#seventeen #choi seungcheol #scoups #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #seungcheol x reader #seventeen angst #scoups x reader #seungcheol fluff #scoups fluff #scoups angst #seungcheol angst #scoups smut #seventeen smut #seungcheol smut #scoups scenarios #seungcheol imagines

[greynatomy]

perfect

alessia russo x reader

based on this and this request.

———

You were currently seven months pregnant. And you were miserable. Alessia, your wife, has been amazing through the whole journey.

Like right now, you woke up in the middle of the night after feeling some pain in your back. Unable to fall asleep, you carefully got out of your wife’s grip and exited the bedroom. You went to the living room, seeing a bit of a mess and started to clean up.

Back in the bedroom, Alessia stirs in her sleep and reaches out to the other side of the bed for you only to find it empty. The space was still slightly warm meaning you got out just recently. She gets out of the bed, shivering when her bare feet touches the cold floor and makes her way out. Entering the living room, she finds you with a duster, dusting anything and everything you could reach. She leans against the hallway wall, arms folded over her chest.

“Hey, honey. What are you doing?”

“Ugh! Don’t even get me started.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“If you can somehow get this baby out of me.”

Alessia pushes off the wall and walks towards you.

“Can I try something?” You feel her standing behind you, her breath fanning against your ear sending shivers down your spine. You can only let out a hum of confirmation, too flustered to know how to use words.

Her arms move to wrap themselves around your waist, hands coming under your bump.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh. Just lean on me.” Her voice soft, you comply, turning your head to breathe in her scent.

She intertwines her hands together under your bump, slowly and carefully lifts your stomach up. Immediately you let out a sigh, relieved at the weight being taken from you.

“Oh, I could marry you all over again.”

She holds your stomach for about a minute, pressing light kisses all over your neck and shoulders.

“I’m gonna put it down slowly now.” She does, making you release a groan. “Think you can come back to bed?”

“Mmhm.”

A few days later, Alessia had gotten home late. She expected you to be asleep, but she found you awake sitting at the dining room table, laptop open and papers sprawled over.

“Baby? Why are you still up?” She asks, moving to stand behind you, hands massaging your shoulders.

You sigh, not taking your eyes off the screen.

“There’s still so much to do.”

“Well, when do you need them done by?”

“Uh, Thursday.”

“Babe. You have like a week to get it done. You’re working too much.”

“I just wanna get ahead.”

Being with you for years, Alessia knows one way to get you to stop working. Grabbing her phone, she connects it to the speakers around the house.

You look away from the screen, hearing the familiar song, a favorite of yours.

Perfect by Ed Sheeran

“May I have this dance?”

You accept her hand that she held out for you. She pulls you as close to her as she could, minding your belly. It’s was silent bar the music. Alessia takes the lead, swaying to the melody.

“You really shouldn’t be overworking yourself, amore mio. It’s not good for you and the baby.”

You sigh into her neck. “I know. I just want to get everything done before she comes.”

“And you will. Just give yourself some more breaks. I want the baby to be healthy, but I want my wife to be healthy as well.”

Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her homeI found a lover, to carry more than just my secrets To carry love, to carry children of our own

“Feel like watching a film with me?”

“Depends. Which film?”

“Tangled?”

“Oh, baby. If you think I was bad watching that before I was pregnant, wait and see after. These hormones got me acting up.”

“And I’ll have a box of tissues ready for you.”

She pulls away from the dance, hands coming up to cup your cheeks as the song ends, giving you a passionate kiss. It makes you tear up.

Pulling away from the kiss, she goes back to hold you, her warm breath fanning over your ear as she sings you the last line.

You look perfect tonight.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #engwnt x reader

[highhhfiveee]

safety net [p3] (pornstar!mike schmidt x reader)

part two: 🚿 | part four: 🏆

tags: lots of mentions of porn, smut (descriptions of sex being filmed, featuring unprotected sex, dirty talk, clit rubbing, squirting, some workplace intimacy lmao), angst?, exposition! reader gets a taste of mike's world and things begin to shift. proofread many times but if there are still errors, idk what to say lmao

“wow."

"i know right," you say plainly, eyes wide at your best friend, claire, as you take a large gulp of your hot latte. claire cuts her gaze to you, puffing her cheeks out in a sigh. you were always so in awe by her, the feeling proved once again when she'd actually agreed wholeheartedly to view your boyfriend's porn.

"i still don't believe that you're dating him," she sputters with outrage as she points to your computer on the dining room table, open to a still of mike with dick in hand, coming on some dark-haired girl's keen face. "and i don't believe it even more so because you decided to wait six months before telling me. i thought we were best friends!"

you can tell her outrage is whimsical by the way she faints into your arms, and you reach forward to catch her. 

"yeah but, like, best friends from adolescence that don't see each other very often. last time i saw you was three months ago." 

"okay, but by then you'd been dating him for three months, and that's almost half a year!" 

"barely, claire." 

you couldn't even believe that you were dating him. you hadn't known how you two went from meeting outside an underwhelming, overpriced restaurant to making out and cuddling intimately in mike's bed four out of seven days a week. it'd felt like no time had passed at all; you'd just been living without thinking. mike took every worry off your shoulders, freeing you of anxiety in so many ways that you couldn't believe someone that caring and accommodating was real.

he paid for your sessions after you'd mindlessly rambled about not being able to afford this therapist you really liked. he sent you the credentials to his grocery delivery membership, encouraging you to get anything you wanted or needed. you could finally consistently get things that were good, and healthy. he paid your rent, and respected the fact that you didn't want to move in with him and wanted autonomy to work and pay for your other personal expenses.

"i just want you to be happy. you tell me what you want, and we'll make it happen."

he had you and it didn't feel real. you felt like you couldn't tell anyone about it, terrified that everything would crumble if you spoke even a word about him being your partner, so sweet and good and rewarding. you didn't want to hide him, but you didn't want things to collapse. not this time. 

you wouldn't be able to take it this time. 

you explain all this to claire, ending with, "i'm sorry it took so long. i just really want this to last." you'd told her about everything, even about dating simon briefly and how he led you to mike. 

claire nods, chewing on a wedge of pineapple speared by a fork. she's given up her fainting performance, once again munching on her breakfast and clicking the pad on your laptop. the video you two were watching resumes, and you watch her face for bit, eyes shifting around the screen in intrigue, before turning back to it as well.

"you deserve it, y/n. that simon guy sounded like a dickhead. an expired card, and the bathroom excuse? fucking lame." her voice doesn't chop through the amplified sound of both mike and the girl moaning, whiny and feral. they're absolutely gone, and you're really not thinking about simon anymore. fuck him. 

now, you thought of mike.

granted, you hadn't been like the people in mike's videos, up to a certain point. you'd done the kissing and the heavy petting, but you hadn't had sex at all, in any form, and he didn't pressure you into feeling like it was some sort of requirement. he agreed with taking it slow, placing emphasis on the romantic before the sexual. you knew there would be no issues with the sexual; why rush into it when you could have the slow burn, all the tension you wanted up until you were ready?

mike hadn't fought it, and yeah, you thought, you did deserve it. you deserved to be treated like this. 

"called me over for an art date, i guess you still painted," the girl mewls with a devilish smile, licking at mike's---sorry, chase cox's---come around her mouth. 

"mhm, baby. masterpiece, if i do say so myself." mike is so pretty on the screen; sweaty and flustered, but so confident at the same time, polite too. even when he's in an act, he's so attentive; he moves hair away from eyes and wipes spit off chins and cradles waists while he adjusts his hips to hit various angles, turning almost everyone he filmed with into a "braindead fucktoy"---claire's filthy words, not yours (though you didn't mind the idea). 

the video ends with a snippet of aftercare, the both of them wiping at each other's bodies with gentle motions. it's how they all end, and you think it's really nice, showing a crucial part of sex that most people forgo. you'd seen plenty of mike's videos by now, and knew that while some were vastly more kinky than others, they all followed the same formula of care, concern, and curtesy. 

you could tell mike lived by that, too. 

"well, i gotta scoot to work," claire murmurs, leaning down to grab for her bag. "but thank you for inviting me to breakfast so you could show and tell me that you've been dating a wildly handsome, generous, and charismatic sex worker. best videos i've seen by far, honestly. are you seeing him today?" 

you nod sheepishly, and claire laughs into the sky, doctored with comical bitterness. "well, let the record show that i am both extremely jealous and extraordinarily happy for you." she gives you a toothy smile, poking at your shoulder with both index fingers. "seriously. you deserve it all." 

you carry this thought with you as you ride in one of the company's chartered cars, traversing through the roads to their main studio, the biggest one in the city. there were only 4 throughout the metro area, but this one, a gigantic penthouse isolated at the top of a 275-foot tall apartment complex, had the most space and atmosphere of them all. you remember coming here to take your picture for the all-access card mike had given you. he was so happy to gift it to you a few months ago, finally getting through after bugging the execs to give him another card with unhindered access for months. 

"finally got the hard copy, just for you. got your name on it and everything," he'd smiled so wide, clipping it on one of his merch lanyards; white with black, serif text that read, "chase cox world domination". you'd fallen over in laughter, kissing at his cheeks while thanking him between giggles. 

you hadn't been here many times over the last three months, but when you were, you were able to slip through every door and security checkpoint without hassle. people knew who you were and attended to you, telling you exactly where mike was in the studio or offering to get you any refreshments or sundries you were after. you'd always declined, extending extreme gratitude to everyone servicing you, but today, you ask for a bottle of fancy artesian water. you deserve it. 

the few times you'd been here before were usually half-hours after mike had finished a scene, helping him pack up to head home for the day, but this time, you'd come early, wanting to catch a glimpse of him at work. 

you take the elevator to the top, stepping out into the concrete foyer of the industrial workspace. the gray of the material was accented with bright art and other pops of color in furniture and decor that conveyed the new age principles and ideology of the production company. it made sense why the videos were so honored, with the people behind them being young and progressive and on the right side of history (and design). 

there are eight rooms on the floor; three for shooting, three for aesthetics and dressing, one for an office, and one for storage. there were bathrooms in three of them and two down the main hallway that opened into the formal living room/break area and kitchen. you'd been told that mike was in the hunger room; this one set up for messier, more bodily fluid oriented videos, as opposed to the softer passion and kinkier desire shooting rooms. 

the rooms are all hidden behind frosted, sliding glass doors with the titles printed onto placards affixed next to them. you find hunger after walking a little, and gently pull on the handle. the door slides open soundlessly, and you're closing it behind you as you step inside, your eyes locked on the scene in front of you. 

mike and his partner are arranged on a leather couch in a living room set, his hips shoving into her in this perceptive way. he's reading her body language and reacting accordingly, and you can see why she's moaning so genuinely, feet dangling by the ankle over mike's shoulders. the couch is already drenched in liquid, wet and puddled under the girl's ass.

he grabs for the back of the couch to go deeper, leaning down to press kisses on her lips as the cameraman focuses in on where they're connected. the sound is so lewd, and it makes you press your thighs together as you watch alongside the small production crew. 

"feel good? happy to have a friend like me? someone who knows you, knows your body? someone who makes you feel better and come harder than your stupid fucking boyfriend?" his partner mewls out a broken, exasperated, "y-yyesssss" between gritted teeth as her moans get higher and higher pitched. suddenly, she's reaching at mike's back to scratch at his skin, screaming out as mike leans off to the side of her, massaging his fingertips over her clit and cooing, "yeah, just let go. know he's never made you feel like this, wasting this perfect pussy..."

his partner squirts against the camera with a screech, loud and raw but pretty. the lens is covered in a heavy spray of bodily fluid as she arches her back and grinds her mound into mike's hand, chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. "that's fucking it," he encourages, speaking in her ear as he looks down at the mess in his peripherals and rides her through it. "just the way you deserve." you swear he locks eyes with you when he says it, and he only confirms it with the small smirk he throws your way, managing to fit it into the ending of the shot. his eyes twinkle through the aftercare segment, and he talks with his spent coworker, calling, "she just wants to sit for a second" to a PA with a chuckle. 

"okay, ten minute break and then we're shooting the come shot."

her legs slowly straighten out as mike throws the towel he's handed around his waist and slides his feet into the slippers stored behind the couch. he grabs a water from an outstretched hand as he makes his way over to you, smelling like sweat and sex and glistening with this nearly angelic post-fuck glow. it's like he's coming down from the gates of porn heaven.

"hi, my love," he muses, pulling you into a tight hug before saying, "how much did you see?" 

"like right before the squirting. it's very..." you're not sure what to say, really. maybe, just maybe, you need to change your underwear, but you don't want to be weird about it. you're sure he's heard weird, and beyond weird, but you want to maintain composure in front of his coworkers. you give him a tight smile, resting your hand on his pulsing bicep. "just makes me think things." 

"maybe we should add 'thought-provoking' to the list of labels for the company," he jokes, taking a sip of water while winking at you. "you're a genius, baby." 

you're giggling along with him, opening your mouth to continue the joke when two tanned arms reach from behind him to cross in an X over his chest. a head peeks from behind him, and she's immediately unmistakable to you. 

it's his current scene partner, who is also the girl from the video you watched earlier today. the one eager for his come, whining for him to make a mess of her face while letting him beat his dick on her tongue. you think back to all of the videos you've seen her in where she's with mike. she always comes the hardest working with him, and vice versa. something about it makes you sick. 

she's smiling at his cheek, eyes focused on his as he turns his glance towards her. her arms get tighter around him and you notice how she gets closer, pressing her front tighter against his back. "caught your breath?" 

"you know i always do," she brags, licking at her canines as her stare moves to you, looking you up and down with snarky scrutiny. "casting department's starting to slack." 

you shrink, feeling so small that you don't feel like you're interrupting something anymore. you might as well just not be there, and you're about to sink into pitiful posture when mike snarls, "hey, watch yourself. y/n, this is amelie, and li, this is y/n, my girlfriend. i told you about her." the sound of mike saying the nickname turns to bile in your throat, searing you on the way down and keeping you from speaking.

amelie gives you a blank expression now, standing beside mike with no qualms at being fully naked in front of a stranger. "y/n, y/n...not ringing any bells," she places her hands on her hips, tossing her dark, sex-tousled hair over her collarbones. "sorry."

you don't know why you're daunted by her; you're usually daunted by no one, and able to speak up for yourself when people are acting catty. this time, you can't help but be unnerved by her perfection, or how close she is to it. perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect body, perfect boobs...

"i'm kidding," amelie's smooth, beguiling voice rips you from your thoughts, and you're gasping for something to say when she continues, "he's shown me endless pictures, and knows that i think you're gorgeous." her tone picks up the tiniest bit as she quips, "my eyes are up here, by the way." she's throwing you off, frustrating you in so many ways and you're just stammering with mike looking between the two of you.

"i'm sorry---"

"it's really fine. millions of people have seen them, everyone's always thirsty for more of me and chase cox..." she drags the end of her sentence out as she runs the tips of her long, cherry red nails along the back of mike's neck, ending in a laugh.

"'mike schmidt' isn't a porn name, we already had this conversation." 

"neither is chase cox, if we're being real," they launch into a chitchat, and you once again feel like you're intruding. there's no denying that they have insane chemistry, but it still rips at you;  you're aware of them having an entire moment in front of you, complete with the body language and glances and suddenly, you don't care about their connection. mike was your boyfriend, and it didn't matter what she said or did. they'd made so many videos together, yet, every night he came home to you, and not her. 

"yeah, well you're still moaning chase when you come," 

"because i can't dox you like that--"

you clear your throat noisily, gaining their attention with an eyeroll, and amelie observes you and your curled lip with recognition of your game. she didn't expect you to have bite, not with the way you look now. you're not the assertive, 'take-no-shit' girl from the pictures mike showed her. she thinks you're merely a hint of that, and that it completely evaporates when someone lights a fire under your ass, but maybe she's wrong for once. "watched a bunch of your stuff. it was really good, you're talented." 

"thanks," her gratitude is dry and bitchy, and you're about to say more when a PA calls a two minute warning and she squints her eyes into slits at you. "hope you're ready to see a lot more of me." she uses mike's shoulder to pivot with a sly smirk, sauntering back to the now wiped down leather couch, ripples coursing through her ass with every step. 

you look to mike with astonishment, wondering where he's been during this whole thing, and who that girl is, and if she's genuine bad news or simply one of those callous girls that guys love to chase.

mike had defended you, sure, but he'd gotten captured too. what if she's indoctrinating him some--

"she's nice," you blurt, stopping yourself from the overthinking you'd resorted to. you needed to be nice to yourself. you deserved this, deserved everything you had with mike. nothing was taking that away from you, and you could feel secure in that. mike would reassure you.

he does, saying, "isn't she?" with a snicker. "don't worry about her, okay? it's her personality, and she does everyone like that, so she's not just targeting you. ignore her, and if you don't like the small jokes either, i can tell her to knock it off. whatever you want. also, lunch after i wrap?" 

you nod your head, about to say something again when the PA announces that it's time for shooting to start back up. mike gives you a fat kiss on the lips as he drops his towel into a director's chair next to you, and makes his way back over to amelie folded on the couch. her knees are by her chin at a filthy angle, and she's using a squeeze bottle with a tapered tip to squeeze shiny lube all over her clit and both holes. 

mike watches, rubbing his hand all through it to spread it around. amelie bites at her lip as he does, staring up at him with eyes that are filled with unadulterated lust, and he uses the leftover lube on his dick, stroking the slippery surface as he gets harder and harder in his hand. 

the director asks them if they're ready, and when they both answer yes, she says, "okay, we're gonna go insertion, sink in, wait five for the kiss, and go from there. alright...rolling...action." 

amelie flicks her eyes to you in a leer, winking at you like mike did earlier as he plunges into her sopping wet walls. her head falls back against the couch while she outstares you, open-mouthed moans transitioning into "cockdrunk" laughs that you know are calculated.  

you begin to chug your bottle of water, deliberately ogling her in return. you were down with playing a game for two, but not for long. 

lord. the hell i've gone through to get this up /: lmao i need to go to bed. things are about to heat up, so prepare yourselves for what's next to come!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf fic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt fluff #faire's (pornstar) mike schmidt <3 #josh hutcherson #faire is writing stuff #heat is coming #hehe (: #also to all the 'chase cox's out there #my b lmao

[yeeterthek33per]

Taken (Steph Catley x Reader)

A/n requested, hope y'all enjoy. 18+ Minors DNI. Smooty warning. As usual, the star marks the safe limit.

"Steph, come on, we're gonna be late for YOUR team's party if you don't hurry up."

The defender had spent the better part of an hour in the bathroom, and now you were both running late to a party that Steph had asked you to come to.

She knew she was gonna cop it from you and her own teammates if she didn't hoof it, but she had to look good. Especially if she was walking in beside you.

Hence why she was wearing a sleeveless button-up blouse and jean shorts. Something that would definitely show off muscles to compliment your own.

When she steps out of the bathroom, her point is only proven.

She grins, looking you up and down, and you blush slightly under her gaze and roll your eyes at her antics.

You're wearing black denim jeans, a yellow crop top that leaves your stomach exposed, and a black leather jacket over your shoulder.

"Come on, we have to go. I'm meeting your other teammates for the first time, I do not want to be late."

At this point, the pair of you had been together for about seven months, having moved in without much communication to her team aside from Caitlin, who you'd spent time with together on several occasions.

So it took until now for you to actually be able to meet them in person.

You both head out to the car, grabbing your keys along the way. Steph is quick to open your door for you before jumping in the drivers side.

"Ever the gentlewoman." You give her a teasing smirk, and she smiles, pecking you on the lips before starting the car and backing out of the driveway, her hand resting on your thigh for most of the drive.

The moment you walk in, there's cheering from the girls as Steph finally makes an appearance.

"Ayyy Stephyyy, she's in finally, and who's this with her?" It's Katie who yells out first.

"Yeah, Stephy, who's this? She's looking fiiine!" That earns Stina a glare from the defender and a chuckle from you.

"Oooh, Stephy brought the girlfriend, be nice guys, she's a keeper!" It's Caitlin that has you blushing a little behind Steph.

"Girlfriend?!"

"Stephy, when did this happen?"

And various other shouts are accompanying them all at once.

Steph just laughs, shaking her head.

"Alright, alright, alright. Everyone, this is Y/n, we've been together seven months. Play nice, nobody scare her away."

You chuckle softly at the brunette leaving a kiss on her cheek as you're quickly dragged away by Beth and Katie.

Caitlin slaps an arm around Steph and drags her over to sit with Viv, Manu, Frida, and Lia. Much to Steph's protests at being separated from you.

In the kitchen, you're being bombarded with questions from Katie. Occasionally, Beth intervenes and tells her to calm a bit before handing you a drink.

You're definitely a little nervous, but once the alcohol is flowing through you, Katie's not so intimidating anymore.

You spend some time just downing drinks as a mini contest with the irish girl, and you can tell straight away that the alcohol you're both consuming is probably not a healthy amount.

About two hours later, the three of you have been laughing at stories you've been sharing, and at one point, there's tears leaking from your eyes, you're laughing so hard.

There's a knock at the door about twenty minutes after that, and Katie is suddenly dragging you to the door with her, practically jumping with excitement.

"Ooh, ooh, I know who that is. It's Leah, you're gonna love her, she's a party girl like me. Blonde and tall and definitely a terrifying captain when she wants, but absolutely let's it rip at parties."

Something clicks in your head, and you go to respond before she rips open the door.

"Oh I know Leah, she's-"

"Leaaaahhh! You made it finally! My god woman, you gotta start getting here earlier. You missed all the fun with -"

Leah grins at you, a cheeky but confused smile on her face when she spots your slightly tipsy self standing at the door.

"Y/n? Oh, I know you've been having a good time then, Katie. This one will drink you under the table."

"You know each other?"

Leah gives you a cheeky wink.

"You could say that."

"Also, wait, there's no way she could outdrink me, I'm Irish."

"Katie, I love you, but she could end your liver if you tried that."

"Meh, I do that on my own accord."

Steph spots Leah walking in with you from the entryway, the music a little loud to hear what you're conversing about but she watches as the blonde puts an immediate arm around your shoulder and kisses your cheek as you grin and pat her face before heading to the kitchen again with Beth.

She feels a wave of heat course through her chest. Why were you so suddenly touchy-feely with her teammates? Why Leah in particular?

She pushed it down, rubbing it off as you were just friendly with the blonde and a little tipsy, if anything. She knows you'd never cheat on her.

Throughout the night, she watches you joke and muck around with the three girls. Occasionally, you converse with a couple of the others. But she focuses on the comfortability you suddenly have around the Arsenal captain.

She tries her hardest to push down any lingering jealousy, focusing on her conversation with Lia instead.

"And so she was talking to me like I knew her. So, the poor thing, I had to stop her and ask, and I just felt so embarrassed."

-------

"Are you kidding me? She just freaking flopped like that?" You giggle, nodding at Katie as Leah huffs lightly, poking you in the ribs.

"You missy, need to stop telling everyone that, who brought you here anyway?"

"Oh, that's another thing I haven't gotten around to telling you yet."

Leah raises a brow at you questioningly. A playful look of hurt crosses her features.

"What haven't you been telling me?"

" I know you've been busy with your injury, and I didn't wanna dump it on you suddenly. But I kind of maybe am possibly dating one of your teammates..?"

Leah raises both brows now.

"Sorry, what? When did that happen? I know I was injured, but jeez, sis, why not tell me sooner? Who is it? I want to know."

"What so you can fight them? Hell no."

"Noooo, me fight them? Neverrrr."

She leaves a sloppy kiss on your cheek, and you shove her lightly.

Steph watches this happen from the couch, and she has to bite back a growl coming from her throat.

Caitlin can see the look on her friend's face and has to hide a knowing smirk. Steph was pretty good with you, but possessive was a trait she picked up quickly, especially with you.

You were kind of oblivious to it, though, making the hilarity of the situation that much better.

Steph can see you laughing with the blonde, and she spots you leaning on the taller girl's shoulder.

It's about five minutes of that before she snaps.

She watches you kiss Leah on the cheek and give her a wink.

That's the last straw for Steph in the other room. She couldn't watch handsy mccaptain continue, and you clearly weren't even fighting it. The fact that you were participating was worse. What is going on with you?

She grabs you by the hand to drag you outside. Leaving behind a bewildered Leah, a hysterically laughing Katie and a knowingly smirking Beth and Caitlin.

Leah just turns to the others.

"I-what? Is it Steph?"

Beth just nods with a small "I probably wouldn't go and ask them now though."

-------

Back in the car, you're completely bewildered by Steph and her actions.

She looks absolutely mad, and she won't look at you. You barely got a "We're heading home early, I need to do something" out of her before you were both in the car headed back to your shared home.

"Seriously babe, what is going on with you?"

The alcohol running through your system is starting to fade off a bit.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Just as you go to reply to that. The car turns into the driveway, and she's out of the car, waiting for you to join her. Her arms over her chest, waiting impatiently.

You're completely and utterly confused by that.

You get out of the car, and you walk up to the door while Steph unlocks it, and the moment it's open, you're dragged inside and pressed harshly into the wood of the inside of it.

It makes you gasp, and Steph is pressed entirely to you, hand grasping your hip and the other in your hair.

Her lips meet yours hard, practically knocking the air from your lungs, and you can taste the strawberry daiquiri she'd been drinking just ten minutes earlier.

The kiss is rough and feverish, and it makes you dizzy and dazes you enough to momentarily forget the whole thing that just happened.

Her teeth tug at your lower lip, and she tugs st the collar of your jacket, pushing you into the wall perpendicular to the door.

Your chest heaves when she pulls away, trying to suck back in air as she kisses and nips her way down your neck, pushing your jacket off your shoulders.

"Baby, I-"

"Shut up."

*It makes you moan softly. You love it when Steph is this demanding and rough with you, and you're practically keening every time she tugs on your hair, holding your head back against the wall.

She pulls away just enough to whisper in your ear.

"Not a word out of you except 'Yes' 'No' 'please" and 'thank you' and anything otherwise I ask. Got it?"

"Yes"

"Yes, what?"

It sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to bite your tongue to not immediately moan at the sentence.

You'd both discussed this one for a while, but it never came into any situations til now.

"Yes, ma'am."

You can see the way her pupils dilate, and her breath catches in her throat.

"Good girl."

You preen under the praise, and your hands are trying to pull her closer to you. She doesn't budge, though, and instead, she lets go of your hair to pin your hands to the wall.

Her lips meet yours again feverantly, and she begins to tug at your crop top before her hand slips under it to grab at your breast and you arch softly under her touch.

You kick your shoes off intermittently, and she does the same.

At that, her leg slips between yours, pressing right into you, and you grind down on her with a whimper.

She whispers against your lips.

"So needy baby girl. Go ahead, try and get off like that."

If it weren't for the fact that your eyes were squeezed shut, they'd probably roll into the back of your head.

You roll your hips against her thigh, moving with a heavy amount of desparation and need. It just isn't enough contact, though, and you quickly find yourself whining in frustration, leaving Steph smirking as she watches you try to cum from grinding on her. Her hands release yours, and she grabs you by the jaw, walking you away from the wall and down the hall to your shared bedroom.

She presses you back into the wall again. Murmuring a "keep going."

Try as you might. You just aren't getting anywhere, and you're just about sobbing in pent-up frustration.

That's when she decides to have a little mercy on you and quickly relieves you of your crop top and flicks at the button on your jeans to open it.

You're pushed back onto the bed with a small thud, and Steph tugs at your pants to pull them off you.

Your breathing is completely ragged now, and the look in your girlfriend's eyes has you whining as she watches you writhe beneath her when she kneels either side of your right leg.

She quickly pins you again, this time she holds for second.

"Keep your hands there sweet girl. You move them and we stop, you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am. "

You do as you're told and keep your hands latched onto the bedding above your head.

She sucks a few marks into your collar before kissing her way down to your nipple as her hands slip down between the two of you.

She grasps your thighs to spread them a little, where she looks up to watch your face as you clench your jaw.

She moves one of her hands to dip beneath the edge of your underwear, and she pulls back from you to watch as she pulls the dampened fabric from you.

Her eyes darken, and she growls a little, noticing the underwear you're wearing. Red lace.

"Were you expecting this baby girl? So desperate for me to fuck you, so needy huh? So fucking needy for me."

All you can do is whimper below her, squeezing your eyes shut once again. Holding your tongue so as not to beg her to fuck you, which would be out of line.

She can immediately tell, though, and she grins darkly.

"C'mon baby girl, tell me to fuck you, tell me how needy you were for me. How needy were you, tell me how you're such a brat as to test me like that so I could fuck this needy little pussy."

The words barely register in your brain before you're answering.

"So needy, please I need you to fuck me, fuck me til I can't remember my own name, only yours. I was such a brat. Only for you ma'am."

The words are out, and it only spurs the brunette on. She growls and finally pulls your underwear off you, leaving you bare to the cool night. You whimper, lifting your hips to meet her hand as she grazes her finger gently over your slit.

You're completely wet, and it makes her groan seeing you completely at her mercy. Her fingertips dip between your lips finally, stroking your clit and applying just enough pressure to dip inside you and back out again.

"Such a good girl for me now, aren't you?"

You moan out but when you don't say anything, you yelp at the slight spank she leaves on your thigh.

"Answer me."

"Yes."

Another spank makes you jump.

"Yes, ma'am!" It's basically a cry out, and you're thankful your neighbours house is more than two kilometres from your doorstep.

"Good girl."

Steph bends down to kiss down your chest and stomach, one particularly harsh bite has you gasping and you nearly move your hand to grasp her hair but you stop yourself.

Her mouth moves lower to your hip bown, tongue dancing into the groove where your leg meets your body and then across to just above your clit.

You have to clamp your jaw shut to avoid demanding her to move, do anything.

"I want you to scream nothing but my name and please, baby girl. My mouth is gonna be a little occupied so I want you nice and loud for me."

You moan at that.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good."

And with that, she swipes her tongue over your clit and shifts so her hands hold your legs open for her.

"Fuck, Steph!" She smirks against you, her tongue delving right into you, taking you in and sucking up your wetness, your taste exploding on her tongue.

Her lips wrap around your clit sucking it harshly and at the same time, she pushes two fingers into your entrance, setting a harsh pace, pressing right in your g spot with a curl making you see stars.

You cry out as she completely devours you. Her left hand moves to urge your legs up and over shoulders, your right staying put to allow her space to move, but a nudge from her elbow has it following the other leg.

Your thighs clench around her head, and when you start to shake around her, she doubles down. Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, and your moans echo around the room.

Knowing Steph's stamina, this would be a first of many for you. As you come down from that high, she nudges you further back onto the bed.

"So good for me, baby girl." It's said in a breathless whisper, and when she kisses you, you can taste yourself on her tongue.

"You can move your hands, baby."

With that, your hands are instantly on her. Running up under her shirt to feel the skin of her back before moving them to wait at the buttons of it.

She hums in thought for a second before urging you on.

"Go ahead."

She sits back on her haunches as you pull the buttons open one by one, enjoying the feeling of you stripping her.

She shrugs the shirt off, tossing it to only god knows where in the room. From there, you tug open the buttom on her jean shorts and unzip them. She stands off the bed to kick them off.

The dark red lace makes your mouth water a little, and as she crawls back onto the bed, your hands find the front clasp of the bra. You wait for permission, and she raises a brow, looking down at you from her position, kneeling, straddling your thighs.

"What do you say princess?"

"Can I please take these off you?"

She taps her chin for a second.

"Hm, I think you can try better than that baby girl."

"Ma'am, may I please take these off you? I've been such a good girl for you, please can I take them off?"

She leans down to peck your lips.

"Much better princess. Go on then. Take them off."

You don't wait for much else. You unclip the bra, and she slowly lets it fall from her shoulders to her hands before tossing it.

She watches as your pupils darken and you have to resist the urge to grab her straight away. Instead, she goes back to standing, and you follow.

Tugging at the elastic waistband of the panties, you slip them down her legs, and she steps out of them.

A whine gets caught in your throat at the sight, and you look up at Steph with pleading eyes.

She chuckles and runs her fingers through your thoroughly tousled hair. Her other hand cups your cheek, her thumb running over your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly.

She lets it dip between your teeth, and you do as silently instructed and suck it gently, letting it press into your tongue as you hollow your cheeks.

Steph groans and then pushes you back onto the mattress and moves to sit on your stomach. Your hands settle on her hips, and she looks down at you with a dangerous look in her eyes.

"You want to touch me?"

Instantly.

"Yes Ma'am."

"How bad?"

"God so bad, please."

She chuckles darkly and shuffles a little further up your chest.

"How about taste me?"

"Fuck, please, I want to taste you, please let me feel you."

"Good girl." It's a little more breathy, and she moves to hover over your head. You know better than to move without permission, though.

"Well? You want to taste, huh? Taste how wet I am for you. Do it."

That's all the permission you need, and you tug her down to sit on your face. Tongue lapping at her almost immediately, a breathy groan leaves you as you finally get a taste of her sweetness.

Fun fact: Did you know, the more upset a woman is, the sweeter she tastes when she orgasms?

Whatever had her upset earlier has her tasting like sweets to you to when she cums.

And that's exactly what you're gunning for as you fuck her with your tongue.

Her hips rock against you as she moans your name out into the cool air. Her hands are tugging your hair, and praises slip from her lips that only encourage you.

Her movements stutter, and she cries out, one hand steadying her on the bed, the other still clamped tight in your locks while you suck on her clit to bring her down.

Suddenly, it all clicks as her breathing slows to a calmer form. As she slips off your face. The memories of tonight set in over the top of the haziness and a smirk plays at your lips.

Her dragging you out directly after you kissed Leah on the cheek, her words about you intentionally testing her, being a brat, the immediate anger turning to heated passion as you get in the door.

It all makes sense now.

What Steph is not expecting to hear immediately after her orgasm is your soft voice in an almost cheeky tone whispering your safe word.

"Pudding."

Her head whips up at that.

"What's wrong? Shit, was I too rough? Was I-." She catches herself at the look on your face. There's a smirk there and a mischievous look in your eyes.

"Were you jealous?" The undertone of your accent makes her shiver.

"I- no! I was not jealous! You were the one testing boundaries. I mean, I wasn't- she was touchy and-"

You chuckle softly and sit up to grab her face and kiss her. She kisses back but is slightly confused when you pull back. It's a much softer but still mischievous look on your face.

"Baby, it's cute that you were, but you definitely shouldn't be jealous of Leah."

She frowns slightly, a round of protests ready to leave her lips, but you lift a finger to them. You urge her back until she's leaning against the headboard and you're in her lap.

"I'm serious, baby, don't be." And you lean down slowly to whisper in her ear. "Fun fact. Us Williamsons really differ in how we look, so it's kind of hard to tell that we're sisters."

At that, the words process and her eyes close as she lets her head thump against your chest, and you start giggling softly.

She feels the vibrations of you laughing, and she looks up at you again, her cheeks having completely gone just about as red as the uniform her and your sister share.

She whines at you.

"Seriously, baby, that's who your sister is? You couldn't have mentioned that earlier? That your sister is my captain? Oh god, I've completely gone and embarrassed myself in front of her, too."

You can only laugh harder, tears coming to the corner of your eyes as she facepalms.

You slow your laughs enough to run your fingers through her hair and console her, though less meaningful than she likes.

"It's okay baby, you didn’t know, and honestly, I would have told you sooner if it wasn't for the fact that she didn't even know you existed til now. Well, that you existed as my girlfriend."

Her face only heats up more, and she just completely melts against you. To the point where she's just completely non functioning as she processes your words over and over.

"Baby!"

Your laughter slows, and to your credit, you do whisper small apologies against her hair.

"So you're saying she never even knew we were dating before I went and dragged you from that party without a word to the other girls?"

"Welllll..."

"Baby, please, this can't get much worse, can it?"

You can't even keep a straight face at that.

"I'd only told her about me having a girlfriend on the team about five minutes before you grabbed me. I didn't actually tell her who it was."

"Oh my god, Y/n! For fucks sakes! Seriously?!"

"I mean, yeah?"

She huffs and pushes you back onto the bed with a small groan. She rubs at her face.

"Glad you're finding the whole thing funny, I don't think I can ever face her again!"

You give her a few minutes but shes still just sitting there with her head in her hands.

"You okay?" Its said in a half teasing tone and her answer comes back a resounding and muffled.

"No."

She drops her hands and tackles you back onto the mattress, and you squeal as she does so, and her hands pin your shoulders to the bed.

"You're so gonna pay for that."

"Oh yeah?"

"Most-fucken-definitely."

Her lips slam back onto yours, and your hands almost slip up to grab her hips, but her hands grab them, slamming them back onto the mattress again.

"Oh, you don't get to touch for the rest of the night, little brat. That privilege is gone now."

You whimper under her hard gaze. And as she sits up a little, she whispers a soft "Stay."

You nod, and she gets up to reach into the closet, pulling out one of your ties.

You gulp as she walks back towards you, swiftly climbing back onto the bed and telling you to go back up by the headboards. Her hands manoeuvre the tie around both of your wrists and tighten them, locking them in place against the headboard.

She then gets up to go digging through the closet again, pulling out a box you know thoroughly by now.

She pulls out another tie when you go to plead with her, telling her you'll be good, and she ties it around your head.

"Not another fucking word, brat."

It makes your head fuzzy, and everything goes back to being hazy again.

She pulls out a small bullet shaped object that you know well what she's going to do with. And then she pulls out the strap and a dildo you hadn't seen yet. It's red and sparkly and makes you shake a little.

"If you cum before I say you can, you won't cum for two months. Hear me?"

You nod slowly.

"Good."

The last time you'd disobeyed that, you were surpisingly proven wrong in thinking she would cave, but no, she edged you for a whole month.

You knew better than to try and finish yourself and risk getting caught because she would only add weeks on to the punishment. Touch starvation can be a cruel but effective persuasion.

Hell, Steph wouldn't kiss you during that first time you were punished unless you got on your knees and begged for it.

That was established on the first day the two of you had started experimenting with this.

The thought of having to do that again makes several shivers run through you.

"I say, we go for ten minutes, no cumming. If you can make it until then, I'll let you finish yourself off."

--------------

It's about four in the morning by the time your exhausted body is let down gently onto the mattress again. Steph is covered in a thin layer of sweat, and her hair is up but sticking to her forehead.

Her chest is heaving beside you. She'd taken the tie off you earlier to "Let you feel me fucking you. Mark me all you like baby girl, those hands dont leave me while I'm fucking that sweet little pussy."

The gag had come out much before then. For much more... visual purposes.

Your throat was sore and ran dry about thirty minutes ago. Your lips are swollen, and you're covered neck to knee in hickies.

Your ass cheeks were red raw and sore and your centre certainly felt thoroughly fucked through.

Steph's stamina never ceased to amaze you sometimes.

She tosses the strap into a corner off the room and takes very careful steps off the bed to go get water and a cloth, thoroughly pleased with herself at that.

She takes a drink and offers the bottle to you while she wipes you down.

You drink the remaining water in slow sips, watching through hooded but loving eyes as your girlfriend carefully cleans you up.

She walks to the laundry to dump the cloth and throws the bottle into the trashcan beside the bed. She goes to the bathroom to wipe herself down too and then staggers back to the bed and under the sheets, in beside you, thoroughly spent for the night.

You curl into her, letting her arm fall onto your waist, pulling you closer to her.

She kisses you softly. Gentler than she had been all night. Soft praises are muttered into the kiss. Followed by sweet nothings in your ear as you fall asleep on her chest.

Her lips press one final "I love you so fucking much, Baby girl." Into your skin as you drift off completely, letting the early morning hours take you into unconsciousness.

---------------

The next day at training is almost unbearable.

At least for Steph. You're back at home still under the covers, though now showered and in pyjamas while she's at the field, getting absolutely shredded by her teammates.

Leah isn't even doing anything. It's all Caitlin, Katie, Beth, and Lia ripping into her about the various marks on her neck and thighs and the slight limp in her run as she completes the various drills with them.

All the blonde captain does is watch on with an amused look on her face, even though Steph can't quite meet her eye the whole time.

Eventually, she does corner the brunette after training alone.

"Look, I'd give you the whole, 'hurt my sister, and I'll bury your corpse speech', but judging by the look on your face, you'd probably do that for me. I am just gonna say this, though. Might wanna consider using a better quality concealer than doesn't melt with sweat."

With that, the English captain gives the poor girl a cheeky wink and lets her go.

At least the captain knows her sister's taken now, though... right?

#woso #steph catley imagine #steph catley imagines #steph catley x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso x reader #filthy smut #oh my god I wrote that #jfc holy shit help me god

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐛 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝. 

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘, 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡, 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝. 𝐍𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃.

𝐀/𝐍_𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐛 𝐛𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐳. 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨, 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

✰ 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓 (𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚) (𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙢.𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤)

♪ ♫ 𝙋𝙀𝘿𝙍𝙊 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 (𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩)

「 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲: 𝐑𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 」  𝐄xtra 01

(𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚)

You were gonna miss the summer. The heavy sun rays, the handmade ice cream Mrs.Montgomery made. Maria was not yelling for wasting hot water because the summer in Jackson was so extreme that the cold water turned a little warm. 

But you were overreacting because it was September, and summer was at its peak in the town. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, of course. 

You look at the street quietly. It’s Thursday, men are working, and women are too. But since you’re entering the last trimester of the pregnancy, teaching shifts are becoming smaller. 

You are seated in a rocking chair with a fan in your hand, trying to soothe the heat. A cold glass of lemonade in your other hand. 

Everything was fine. After having one of the worst fights with Joel a little after arriving in Jackson, you discovered you were pregnant and that Ellie and Joel lied to you. Those days were hard, but soon the rainbow came. And you married the bravest man in town. 

Joel still received bad looks for marrying and knocking up a young woman like you. He couldn’t care less, always proudly putting his hand around your waist or shoulder when you were out or shoving off the height difference between you and him. 

The weekends were fantastic. Friday was your best chance to get a messy night with your husband after Ellie left to watch some movies. Saturdays were for decorating the nursery room for the baby. 

Since nobody knew what gender would be, the room would be beige with salmon and olive green sparks. 

And Sundays, we’re for church and visiting Tommy, Maria, and their baby. 

However, this weekend, everything would go differently if Joel joined your plan.

“Hey, Ellie. How was school today, baby?” She shrugged calmly. You knew it was hard for her. She wasn’t used to having an everyday life, and now…

“Good. I got a B on my homework. And I talked with some kids. But…” You nodded, opening your arms and inviting her to have a warm hug. Her head collapsed in your chest, and one of her hands landed on your swollen belly. 

“I know. I know it’s hard. But it doesn’t matter; neither Joel nor I pressured you to have friends or be good at school. Time to time…” she wasn’t crying, but sure, she was emotional. “We are proud of you. Plus, Joel’s birthday is on Saturday. I need to get some fresh strawberries. Would you like to help with the cake?” 

“Hell yeah. But…I thought Joel was against flour and-“ you giggle. Happy to see Ellie smiling again.

“He is. But we won’t use flour. Only yogurt and eggs. It’ll be a healthy cake….”

“So the strawberries….” you try to incorporate, but Ellie is there to help you. You were feeling great to be seven months pregnant. You could sleep very well, sex was amazing in every position, and summer blessed you with elevated temperatures that only required you to wear sundresses. 

“It’s only half an hour away from here. Free from infection, Maria said it was safe when Tommy took her some weeks ago” Ellie nodded, entering the house behind you. The girl wasn’t sure of the idea. 

“But you shouldn’t go. Maybe Joel could go with Tommy…” you sighed. Everyone wanted to protect you, especially Joel. You were thankful to have a caring family again. But this was a one-time opportunity. You didn’t know if you would be alive for the next season of strawberries for Joel’s birthday. You didn’t know if the place would be full of infected by next year. It was a single opportunity to do something that would stay in your memories forever and Joel’s. 

“I know everyone’s gonna freak out when they hear about this. But I really want to do this. Remember that feeling of seeing the giraffe in Salt Lake?” The girl nodded. Of course, she remembered. She felt like a girl her age. It was one of those things that were shockingly beautiful now but before the outbreak was typical. 

“That’s the feeling I have about this. And I would take you too. But Maria would definitely kill me,” Ellie giggled but seized after seeing your face grow in discontent. 

“What?” She asked you. Inside the house, in the kitchen, it was nice because it was cold. But upstairs was hell. And the living room was hot but humid. Which wasn’t helping with your pain.

“I think the baby kicked and moved at the same time,” you managed to explain. Ellie was amused by your pregnancy. She found the process of growing a little human inside you both extraordinary and disgusting. Initially, she was afraid that you or Joel would get rid of her after having a kid of their own. But now she was pretty sure not because she always felt welcome and part of the family. 

“Maybe it’s turning upside down….” you nodded, smiling once the pain was gone. “See? It’s like an alien growing inside like you said.”

“If that kid comes up looking like the exact copy of Joel, I’ll be a pain in the ass for that old man,” you laugh. Ellie didn't cause much trouble in Jackson, she was a good kid, but you knew she had a violent nature inside her. However, since you arrived in Jackson six months ago, the only trouble she caused was inside the house. For example, leaving the lights on, the floor wet, making Joel almost slip and break his back, etc.  

“You are making my man age three times faster than he should, Ellie” The girl winked and opened the kitchen door, heading towards the fridge to grab a cold glass of water. 

“Don’t say that. It reminds the age gap between you two” Rolling your eyes, you start waving the fan in your hand to soothe the heat. 

“A guy my age would never ever protect me for so long. A guy my age would have killed me after I got bit. A guy my age would have stopped to look after me when David and his cult took us. And a guy my age would have abandoned the baby and me.” Ellie sighed, tilting her head.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you nod, shaking your head. Trying to tell her that it was fine.

“It’s okay. We know it isn’t ideal. But it works, and it's the least of the worries today” She got closer to give you another hug, which you accepted. 

After arriving in Jackson, Ellie started to show significant affection to you. Which was weird at the beginning, but now it felt normal. 

—

 “What are you doing?” You ask with a laugh when you see Joel painting a wall of the backyard in black. After eating dinner with Ellie, she went to do homework, and you decided to take a long nap. When you woke up, it was dark. The dishes were clean, so Joel must’ve had dinner, and when you smelled the fresh paint, you directly went out. 

“Oh, hey…” he greeted, offering a sweet smile. You smiled, loving how often he was smiling now. He also looked physically better, less dark bags under his eyes, better-looking skin, and a friendly mood. “Does it smell a lot inside?”

“No, just at the kitchen entrance,” he nodded. Some seconds later, he had finished the whole wall. Well, just the lower half. Now you were confused looking at the border with two different colors. Joel noticed your concussion and stood up to get close to you.

“It's chalkboard paint. Tommy found it today at the stables. I thought it would be good for… the kid to have a place to draw” Your eyes water immediately, and you throw at him to hug him. He receives your warm body and feels how dainty it’s the moment for you. 

“Oh, Joel, you are going to be such a good father again” Again, it replayed in his head. He was going to have another kid. In his fifties, away from Texas, without Sarah. He was scared, but everything was fine. Better than it was in the winter. 

“You think I can do it?” He asks, letting out his insecurities. He grasps your hair, pushing your right cheek against his chest. 

“I think you’ve already done it, love” He knows what you mean. A year of taking care of Ellie. A year of many deaths of people both of you knew. How fast things changed.

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” he said in disbelief. He wanted to stay the whole night holding you, trying to get inside his head that he had a house, a work, an adopted kid, and an unborn one. That you were his wife, telling him he would be an amazing father.

“I was thinking. Maybe tomorrow we could go and pick some strawberries outside. Maria was telling me about this field. She’s making Tommy and other men go pick up for the food storage,” he flinched away from you. And started to say no multiple times.

“Uhm…No?. You’re pregnant, y/n. And if Tommy and the others take them, Why should we go?” You sigh. Crossing your arms, resting them above your belly.

“It’s like half an hour away from here, Joel. It’s safe. It would be like a walk. You heard the doctor. She said I need to go on walks” The man started picking up the can of paint. 

“I said no, y/n. We can walk inside the town, and I can make Tommy bring you a basket of strawberries next week. 

He was right, but you got irritated easier than ever. He could see your eyes get teary again, your cheeks red from anger, and you groan, showing how annoyed you were. 

“Baby…” he called as he watched you sprint inside the house. He sighed, putting his hands on his hips. 

You took a shower without Joel, brushed your teeth with angry tears falling, and tucked inside the bed, grabbing your diary to write about the past days.

When you were almost finished with how grumpy and close-minded Joel was, he went out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. 

You ignore him as you notice that he’s watching you. He lets out a little sigh and then proceeds to the edge of the bed.

“We can go to the strawberry fields in the morning. But it has to be fast. We can’t stay past midday.” You stop writing to smile at him. 

“Really?” He nodded, rolling his eyes. “ yeah. I spoke with Tommy, and he said it is very safe.”

“Thank you, thank you. Oh, I love you….” you crawl to hug him from behind, kissing his cheeks. 

“Well, now spread those legs because that trip it’s not gonna be for free” You start laughing very hard after listening to him. He giggles too, but you obey him. And the air shifts, heating. 

“Just for my old man” He rolled his eyes again. And began to kiss you deeply.

As you place your arms around his shoulders, he leans to end up topping you. 

You love the feeling of his lips abusing yours, his hands caressing your belly. It’s perfect, just as the day ended.

—

In the morning, you leave a note for Ellie. You left some boiled eggs and fruit for her; hopefully, you would be home by midday. 

You take a backpack with some sandwiches for breakfast and your medical kit. Knives and a gun in case of anything. 

You walk to the stable where Joel is waiting for you. The cramps you felt the day before were still there. You kept saying it was the baby moving around your womb but deep down, you felt a bad omen about it.

You look at your handsome husband, and once he spots you, he places his thumb and index finger above the bridge of his nose.

“I’m not taking you if you’re wearing a skirt” You ignore him, walking past him to the little exit. You wouldn’t make an exit through the principal gate. 

“Joel, I traveled a great distance throughout the country in a hospital gown and bare feet. Don’t tell me to go and get changed.”

“What if you get a scratch, or do we need to climb somewhere?” Exasperated, you stop walking to turn back.

“Gosh, Joel, it’s just a walk near the town. No mountains or hiking. It’s a firm trail” He helps you open the door, praying in silence that everything goes well.

Apparently, you were right. You followed Tommy's map, leading the way as Joel kept his rifle in position. The trail was easy, and Joel saw the fields in the blink of an eye. 

“This is amazing,” you whispered, in a trance, looking at the beauty nature gave you and your partner. Joel had a smile when he looked at you. And he regretted saying no to you at the beginning. You looked adorable in a long hippie skirt and a white tee that looked a little like a crop top with your belly in the middle. At that moment, he wished he could have taken a picture of you. At least he would keep the image in his memories forever. 

“ We should have breakfast here” he opted, to which you agreed. Both took a seat on a giant rock and you took both sandwiches out of your backpack. 

“You shouldn’t be eating spicy stuff” Joel said after feeling the first taste of spicy boiled eggs. 

“I know, but it’s one of the biggest cravings I’m having,” he chuckled, looking at how you devoured the sandwich. 

“You would have loved Indian food then. There was something called Tandoori chicken that I loved to have on takeout with Tommy back in Texas. Sarah hated the smell of yogurt and spices, but Tommy always asked for the spiciest option” You had noticed that Joel was more open about his past now. You liked it, and you enjoyed hearing about his younger years.

“And Mexican food. I was a friend of an old lady that owned a restaurant. She loved feeding me when I was a teenager and nobody could take care of Sarah” You smile fondly. 

“I would love to try other types of food, but I’m thankful for this. However… How was she as a baby?” Joel was surprised by your question. He knew you avoided asking about his daughter because of him. But he was ready to share more. 

“The fussiest baby. Always demanding her formula on time. She had the brightest chocolate eyes and a dazzling mound of curls in her head.” The way he speaks with so much love, it melts your heart. 

“And she loved to take baths. She wouldn’t stop giggling” He looks at your face, noticing how your smile has changed. Soon he realized he might have sounded like he had high expectations for the new baby. He knew nothing would be the same. He already loved you and the new baby and knew that meant new memories.

“Our baby will bring new memories. And this time, I’ll have you all the way….” He kisses your forehead, and you nod, smiling.

“I just pray it comes healthy. Now I realize the first months I was feeding him spoiled food” Both of you laugh as you finish the sandwiches with orange juice. 

“The doctor said everything was fine. Even Freya said you looked fine” You roll your eyes at the mention of Freya. The woman who flirted with Joel ruined your pregnancy's secret months ago. “Shut up. Don’t ruin our morning with Freya.”

“Yeah, right. Sorry, baby,” he accepted, giggling. You frowned a little after feeling an unexpected cramp. Joel quickly places his hand on your bump, worried.

“What are you feeling?” You shake your head. Placing a hand in the air, trying to comfort him.

“Nothing, just a cramp” When you stood up, you felt a heavier pressure on your lower belly. But you pretended it was nothing. 

“Are you sure we should keep going?” You nodded at your husband’s question. 

“Yeah. It’s fine. C’mon,” he was unsure. But followed you after you started to keep going. 

Ten minutes later, the cramps increased. But you finally were in the strawberry fields. You start cutting strawberries and flowers to place them inside the basket you brought.

“What if the fruit is infected?” You roll your eyes, taking out a transparent bottle with a white liquid. “I made this natural wash with vinegar, Leonand baking soda. If it’s infected, the strawberry will start erupting bubbles.”

“Smart girl…” you wink cheekily, proceeding to lean further. 

You don’t know what happened. It just felt like something was being pulled from your insides. And when Joel turned to see you, you had dropped the knife and basket, landing on your knees.

“What happened?’ He yelled worriedly, running to sit behind you. 

“I don’t-, ouch. Joel! This hurts…” his heart pounded faster. He helped you to sit correctly. Unconsciously, you leaned on your elbows and opened your legs a little.

Joel gasped, worried about his assumption. Your legs were exposed, and the hem of your dress was pooled around your pelvis and belly. Some strawberries were mashed on your legs from the pressure of your fall.

“Breathe, y/n. It might be some cramps, that’s all,” you nod. But a minute later, you are sweating and yelling in pain.

Frustrated to see you in pain, he cleaned your forehead and helped you to accommodate. 

He slipped his hand under your dress and made contact with your folds being widely swollen. He slipped his fingers inside you and opened his eyes once he felt something obstructing the way. 

It was the baby, coming very fast. 

“Fucking hell. This can’t be happening right now” You opened your eyes, confused at him. “Joel, what?

“You are birthing, y/n” Your eyes grew wetter, and you started shaking your head in denial.

“No, no. I have two months left. Our baby is coming in November,” Joel sighed. He couldn’t understand why it was happening so fast. He thought your delivery would be slower. But it seemed to be happening super fast.

“I think the baby has other plans, my love. And we can’t go back like this,” he accepted, trying to be as calm as possible. He had to help you, not stress you out.

“No. I’m not having my baby here. Help me to get up. Let’s go.” 

“I can feel the head already. There’s no time, and you can’t retain it. It’s dangerous.” You cry in pain. You just sob for a few minutes. Joel grabs your hands for you to squeeze him as much as you want. But you know there is no other option, you are going to be brave for Joel and the baby.

“Okay. I-goddammit. Hold my hands, Joel. I think I’m gonna start pushing” He nods, and you can see the nervousness on his face. You soothe him with a weak smile. 

“It’s okay. We’re safe at least. You can’t scream and relax, love” he lets you know. You nod, frowning as the pressure increases. You can feel the baby sliding through your cervix and ripping your insides. 

“I’m gonna see how it’s going. Okay?” You nod, yelling. He lets go of one of your hands to push your dress up. 

He sighed, shocked to see half of the baby’s head out. He wasn’t present at Sarah's delivery. He had to wait outside, and now, seeing the graphic scene didn’t scare him, but it was intense.

“The head is almost completely out. You’re doing amazing, baby,” you cry harder. Joel feels useless and realizes a tiny human will be there in minutes. 

Five minutes later, you are shaking and screaming nonstop. Joel holds both of your hands again.

“Just a little more, mama. Breathe…” You gasp for air one last time before pushing as hard as possible. Both of you look at each other when the cries of the baby begin. 

Joel drops your hands to catch the little human, and you have the baby in your chest in the blink of an eye. 

“Oh God…” you sob happily as you kiss the baby’s head. Crying, you start counting the fingers on the hands and toes. 

“Five fingers on both hands and toes,” you say with a giant smile” Then, you finally notice it. “Joel, it’s a girl.”

Joel Miller instantly cries. 

“A girl…” he whispers, looking at the little squirming crybaby in your arms. She’s incredibly tiny. Yet, she didn’t look like a seven-month-baby.

“I don’t think she was seven months…” you read his mind. He shakes his head, the baby has dark brown hair, she has matted hair and she’s pale as every newborn is. “Me neither. I think she was just small.”

“She’s perfect,” he managed to say after some seconds of silence, wiping his tears away.

“Cut the cord, please,” you plead to him. He nods, grabs a clean knife from his backpack, and proceeds to cut it. Your legs, shirt, and skirt are drenched in blood and fluids. But you can’t stop crying with happiness. 

“I can’t fucking believe this…” he says, leaning to kiss your lips. The baby has stopped crying. She’s trying to adjust to the light and yawning. 

“We need to go back. She needs to be checked, and I need to push the placenta. It’s already past two” He knows you’re right. But he doesn’t want to make you walk. He wants you to rest. He realized you pushed the baby in less than forty minutes, and it felt like a second.

“You just pushed a baby. I think you should rest” You shake your head, already reeling and anxious because the baby needs to be urgently checked.

“You know we can’t stay. Could you grab her?” He nods, but he’s terrified to hold her own daughter. You hand her, but he’s taking his jacket off. He wrapped her with the jacket and that’s when it hit him.

He had a daughter and now he had another daughter. You were a mother. He was a father. Exactly a year after he rejected your suggestion of having a family with him. 

He smiles at the baby, finally surrendering and falling in love with her. 

He doesn’t want to let her go, like never. 

“Oh, y/n. Stop it, I’ll help you and then you stand up” he hurries to stop you from trying to stand up by yourself. With his free arm, he acts as a support for you. You sigh when you’re on your feet, knowing it will be a long way home.

“You’re so brave and-. God, I love you,” he admits, making you smile at his cuteness. You love the sight of him holding the baby. You are going to get used to it.

“I love you too, so much” He kisses your forehead. “Now, let’s fucking go home.”

Like you had come from the war with Joel, the thirty minutes walk became an hour and a half. By 4:00pm, you were in Jackson. The stables are empty, and once you make it outside, just by casualty, Maria is there talking with Rosalie and Rae. The couple who became your only friends. 

Rae spots you and gasps in shock. The group turns around, and once they see you covered in blood and Joel holding a bundle in a jacket, they run toward you two.

“Holy shit. What the fuck happened? Rosalie, bring a wheelchair,” the woman nods, running. 

“I gave birth,” you announce. Some people gather near you and Joel. You know they’re gonna be talking about your baby for days.

“I can’t believe it,” Maria says in disbelief. Getting closer, Joel leans and uncovers the baby’s face. Maria smiles widely.

“She’s beautiful. Congratulations…” Joel nods, and you thank to see Rosalie with Tommy bringing a wheelchair.

“Well damn. Let me see me….” Tommy starts but ends because he doesn’t know the gender.

“Niece, Tommy. She’s a girl,” a couple of brothers hug, and you feel happy to see them like that. 

“Yes, she's a Miller. That hair comes from our mom” You feel like you’re gonna tear again.

“I think we can keep talking in the clinic,” Rosalie said, hugging and congratulating you.

“Someone, please call Ellie,” you say to the group. They nod, and you feel sleepy as Rae pushes you into the wheelchair.

—

You wake up to the sound of laughter. When you open your eyes. Everyone is there, in your little room inside the clinic. 

“Look, baby. Mommy is awake” You smile at Rosalie, holding her. Everyone turns to see you finally awake. 

“We’ll give you two some privacy. But not so much. We are outside,” Tommy lets you know. And once they leave, Joel helps you with your gown.

You place the baby in your chest, and without notice, she latches on your left nipple. It hurts a little, and you wonder how she could bite and make you feel like your nipple was getting ripped off when she didn’t had teeth.

“Poor baby, you must've been starving,” you coo at her. Joel takes a seat beside you, looking in adoration at the tiny girl.

“We haven’t named her…” he says. You won’t last too much without answering. You though about for months, avoiding to tell Joel because you were afraid of his reaction. But it’s time now…

“Joel, I know this is a whole new chapter for you. I know this means too many things to you. However… I was thinking of a name that could rhyme with… her” Joel looks at you curiously. So you continue.

“What do you think of Cerise?” Joel nods instantly. He kissed you again, and you felt relief after his reaction.

“Sounds good. Cerise Miller, right?” The man keeps nodding. 

You finally pay full attention to your baby. She’s wearing a pink onesie. Although it's hot, she has long sleeves and small gloves that prevent her from scratching her face. Her skin tone starts looking more like Joel’s, and you love it. Cerise stops eating and you start burping her.

“Thank you for everything you have done for me. I will always owe you, y/n” You cup his cheek in awe. Brushing your thumb against his patchy beard, he closes his eyes.

“I owe you a lot too. We will pay each other for the rest of our lives” Before anyone can say anything else, the door slowly opens, revealing Ellie entering.

“Hey, bug,” you greet her. She looks shocked.

“Holy shit. You gave birth in the wild? Damn, y/n, God was afraid of making you immortal, right?” Joel and you start laughing. She comes closer, and once baby Cerise burps, you spin her to show her to Ellie. 

“Oh, she’s so cute. But there’s no way she’s a seven-month baby” Joel shakes her head.

“She isn’t. The doctor said she’s spent nine months inside” Ellie shrugs at Joel’s words. You also look at him, probably he discovered it while you were sleeping.

“Guess she’s just a tiny baby,” you explain, smiling. Looking at Ellie’s curiosity, you hand the baby to her.

“Want to hold her?” Ellie nods nervously. “Help me, Joel”

The man rolls his eyes and makes the girl take a seat before joining her. You look at them, and it melts your heart.

“Yeah, you got it” You smile at Ellie, and she replies with another smile. She looks good with the baby in her arms.

“What’s her name?” Joel keeps rubbing the tiny hairs of the girl’s delicate skull.

“Cerise,” Joel lets her know. Ellie nodded, smiling at the baby and how she was soundly asleep.

“It’s pretty.” There’s nothing else to be said. The four of you just stay there, like a family.

—-

You must sleep in the living room that first night because you couldn’t go upstairs. Ellie and Joel make you feel comfortable, they put Cerise’s bassinet beside you, and Joel holds you tightly the whole night. Cerise only woke up two times. And she didn't cry so much. 

You woke up at 10:00 am. Cerise was sleeping. You carefully took a shower and the bandages Maria handed you. It was an Asian method that she used, and she felt like herself again in the third month. After a little routine of making yourself presentable, you quietly started baking Joel’s cake. You saved a little basket after Cerise decided to introduce herself to the world. You had invited everyone to celebrate, only that it was a surprise for Joel. 

When the cake is in the oven, Cerise starts moving. Joel starts waking up too, but you send him to sleep again,

“It’s okay, handsome. Go back to sleep,” he protests. “But Cerise-“

“She’s fine. Please go back to sleep. “He spent a significant part of the night storing your milk. Apparently, eating oats for months increases your milk. 

He nods, going back to sleep, so you sigh, thankful. Cerise is awake, fussy, and demanding attention.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” you fed him. After noticing she was sweating too much, you changed her into a strap onesie of butterflies with adorable matching socks and gloves. Ellie enters the kitchen.

“Smells like cake… wait. You made the cake without me?” You nod. “Sorry, I can’t go upstairs. And if I called you, Joel would be here already.

“Fine. Just because you brought Cerise to the world yesterday,” you giggle.

“But perhaps you could help me to decorate it,” Ellie nods excitedly.

—

Joel enters the kitchen and is greeted by a surprising sight. You and Ellie look like you were manipulating a crime scene, and Joel discovered it. But there was a medium cake on the table, besides Cerise and her Moses.

“What is going on?” He asked.

“Happy birthday, old man,” Ellie said happily. Joel inspected the cake.

Oh yeah, today was his birthday. And it was the first birthday he had celebrated since the outbreak. 

“Happy birthday, Joel,” you hugged him tightly. He stood quiet but wrapped his arms around you, feeling your stomach and back bandaged. 

“It’s been twenty-one years….” You knew. Even Ellie did. 

“We know, love. You deserve this….” you say, brushing his arms.

“Plus, it's a flourless cake. And Cerise has another present for you”  Joel looks suspiciously at Ellie but smiles kindly.

“My smart and beautiful wife…” he whispered in your ear. Making you blush. 

Ellie brought a little brown box, and you took Cerise out of her Moses to pretend she was handing Joel’s gift.

“Oh god,” he said, laughing, looking at his baby in an adorable onesie and pretending to hold the box. 

“You might want to take a seat” He frowned, confused, but followed your suggestion.

He opened the box, and after encountering a layer of old newspapers, there was a little frame in the shape of two circles.

A picture of baby Sarah was placed on the left side, and on the right side, a recent photo of Cerise was there. 

“How?-“ Joel was shocked to see a picture of Sarah. He couldn’t save anything that day.

“Tommy. He had one in his wallet that day….” Joel crashed his head on your chest, hugging you again. “Ellie suggested the idea, and Tommy helped us” Ellie was holding Cerise when she got closer to give Joel some comforting pats on the back. 

He surprised her by also hugging her and Cerise on the way.

“Thank you…” Ellie felt blissed by that moment. 

But everyone found the moment perfect. Especially Joel, who noticed the significant presence of the girls he had in his arms. 

“Oh, my girls,” he accepted, feeling Cerise’s tiny head by his heart. Where Sarah also was and would be forever.

But now, he had Ellie, Cerise, and you, the woman he would never let go.

________________________

I have watery eyes, fuck me :), Womb by Melanie might have multiple hints of the future of this series (part 2)

Taglist: @aonungs-tsahik @buckysmainhxe @amethystwonders11 @kyuupidwrites @bookfrog242 @acornacreacure @enbywan @ipadkidsworld @my-obsession-spn @happycupcakeenthusiast @thesameoldboo @spideysimpossiblegirl @tubble-wubble @flightlexsbird @randomstory56 @mimento-more @royalty-cashinout @ayamenimthiriel @eddies-bat-tattoos @kassieesworld @damnzelsoul @floffytofu @rintheemolion @coldheartedmar @woofgocows @d4rno @marantha @floralsightings @pedro-pascal-3nthusiast @holb32 @harperdoodle

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

[rainylana]

“My superhero.”

eddie munson x female reader

summary: short fic about a pregnant reader:)

warnings: reader is pregnant and talks negatively about her weight gain, maybe some language, fluff to the max.

“I’m so fat.” You huffed, standing in front of the long mirror that stood in the corner of you and Eddie’s bedroom, pregnant belly a foot out in front of you.

“Excuse me?” Eddie put down his magazine, sprawled out on the bed behind you. “What did I tell you about that?”

“About what?” You looked at him through the mirror.

“About standing there in that mirror and criticizing yourself.” He sat up, giving you a look. “I told you to stop. You are not fat.”

“I look like a whale.” You pursed your lips, ignoring his demand as you turned to the side, trying to suck your stomach in.

He watched you with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t know why I say anything. You don’t listen.”

You huffed. “I know, I know, sorry.” You shook your head, waddling over to your chair by the window. “I’m just so tired of being pregnant and-”

“If you say fat,” He pointed a finger at you, making you clamp your mouth shut.

You crossed your arms, kicking your feet out and pouting your lip. He smirked and picked up his magazine, relaxing back into the bed. Both of you were off work for the day, had already ate dinner so you were left with an evening to do whatever you pleased. You sighed heavily and laid your head back against the chair, closing your eyes. Maybe a nap would do you some good.

You were seven months pregnant, blessed with a healthy pregnancy, and up until the last few weeks had your hormones finally taken an emotional uproot. It hit Eddie like a tone of bricks, but he did his best to comfort you and get you the things you needed. He came back one day with a new pillow, lotion and prenatal vitamins after Robin took him out to get you a present after a hard day.

You hummed to yourself softly, not loud enough for him to hear, just to sooth your agitation. It wasn’t good enough though, because you felt your lips pull down in a frown. You knew Eddie wouldn’t judge you for how your body changed, but you weren’t happy with it. You wanted your old body back.

“Hey,” Eddie perked up at the sound of your whimpers, sitting up so he could see your face. “Honey, what’s wrong are you alright?” He crawled to the other side of the bed so he could be closer to you.

“Yeah.” You held up a hand so he wouldn’t be alarmed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“Why you crying then, huh?” He grabbed your knee. “Is it the baby?”

“No, no,” You grabbed his hand, sniffling. “No, baby is fine.”

He rubbed up and down your leg. “Then what’s got you upset?”

You shook your head and patted his hand. “Nothing, honey, don’t worry about it.”

He gave you a look. “Oh, come on, tell me. Your back hurt?”

“Eddie, please,” You sighed, laying your head back. “I’m okay, I’m just tired.”

He pried another minute before giving up, climbing back to the bed and picking up his magazine, giving you one last look.

“I’m fat!” You cried, covering your face with your hands.

“Oh, my god,” He covered his own, whispering the exclamation to himself as he got up. “Honey,” He sighed, crouching in front of you. “Look at me.”

“No,” You said muffled through tears. “I’m so ugly!”

“Hey,” He said sternly, taking down your hands gently. “I said look at me, y/n,”

You looked at him with tearful eyes and a snotty nose.

“Don’t say that.” He said firmly, holding your chin. “Are you listening? I don’t want to hear that shit come out of your mouth again. That’s not true in the slightest and you know it.”

His casual dominance made your cheeks blush, and you hiccuped, rubbing your sleeve across your cupid’s bow.

“I’m just-” You choked on a cry. “I feel like I’ve been pregnant for seven years!”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I know you do. I’m sorry. But I don’t want you thinking so negatively about yourself, alright?”

“I’m sorry.” You said embarrassed, looking at his chest. “Are you mad?”

“No, I’m not mad, baby,” He said incredulously, standing up as he grabbed your arm, helping you out of the chair. He took your seat, pulling you down to his lap so you could sit atop of him. He wrapped his arms around you, rocking you gently with a hand on your swollen tummy.

“You’re more beautiful than you’ve ever been, sweetheart.”

“I don’t feel beautiful.” You pouted. “I feel swollen and my feet hurt when I walk. I’m tired of peeing my pants.”

He cracked a smirk against the top of your head. “Well, you’re still beautiful, angel, no matter how swollen you are and no matter how many time you pee your pants.”

You whined and cuddled up against him, your thighs against your belly. “You mean it?”

“Of course.” He patted your back. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, honey. You’re growing a human life.”

“Feels like I’m growing an elephant.” You grumbled, causing him to laugh.

“Well, never the less, you’re a superhero.” He kissed the side of your head. “My superhero.”

“Yeah and you know what they would call me?” You peeked up at him. “Fatman.”

His jaw dropped. “You’re no use.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons

[venusgirltarot]

What Would A Relationship Between You and Your Celebrity Crush Be Like? ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

Close your eyes, take a deep breath, envision the person you are thinking of and then choose the pile(s) you feel most drawn to.

If you would like a personal reading from me, you can get one here!

Deck Used: The Cosmic Slumber Tarot

Pile 1 ༣

Cards: seven of swords, death, seven of pentacles, temperance, three of torches, the chariot, two of swords, eight of pentacles

So I won’t lie, pile one, I think being in a relationship with your celebrity crush could become a very dark and difficult period of your life. This period of time would be temporary but still very difficult nonetheless.

The relationship would start out private, a secret kept between the two of you and only known to those closest to you. You’re very protective of it as a couple and want to spend the first few months of your relationship together without the general public knowing about it or being involved. The connection you would have would be incredibly strong and very very deep. You connect very deeply with this person and you have a very loving and healthy relationship. The type of relationship where you’re like best friends but also make a really good couple.

The struggles you face will start when this relationship is announced to the public. I don’t think it would be leaked or announced before you’re ready, the two of you decide together that it’s time and you meet with your respective teams and come up with a statement and plan to have an article released.

In this scenario where you are with your celebrity crush, I see you being somewhat famous yourself. I think your crush is either an A-List and well known celebrity or someone with a a very large and dedicated fan base or possibly both but no matter what, they do have a much bigger fan base/platform than you do. You may just be starting out in the industry and making a name for yourself and you do have a fan base but it’s much smaller. Your celebrity crush’s fans may be known for being obsessive or slightly out of control and this is something the two of you have in mind when announcing this relationship.

Despite being prepared, I don’t think either of you will be fully prepared for the true outcome of this announcement. There would be a lot of unnecessary hate and possibly even hate towards your friends/family. People trying to dig into your past, blind items about you from people claiming to have grown up with you or known you at some point in your life saying things about you that you know aren’t true but your crush’s fan base takes these blind items and uses them as a reason to hate you due to their own jealousy. I heard “it really spirals out of control”.

You won’t say anything. I think you’d take this time to focus on yourself and surround yourself with people that love and care about you and truly know you for who you are and not for some blind item from an unknown internet user that has never met you before. You crush would really care for you during this time. They’d be very attentive and take time to communicate and support you emotionally. I heard “we’ll get through it together” they refuse to let you isolate yourself or go through this alone, the two of you may attend therapy together to process and work through this difficult time together. You may also buy a home in one of your home towns or some place that’s comfortable and familiar to you.

You choose not to speak out because you feel it’s not what’s best and you know it would add fuel to an already uncontrollable fire. You encourage your crush to do the same but eventually I do believe they’ll make a statement. Fans may possibly be using your crush’s lack of defense of you as another reason to hate on you and the general public may see it as your crush being a bad partner and it may put them in a bad light in the eyes of the general public. I think a lot of the general public will see this as a rabid fan base going after a celebrity’s partner without any reason but a small portion may only know you from blind items or fan rumors they hear which may but you in a bad light in their eyes. However, you crush’s statement will be a well written and planned out statement that will bring in way more support for you from the general public, but I don’t think it will do much in terms of the fan base and their opinion.

I do think this will change, though. Over time, after ignoring and not commenting on this hate and continuing to build and further your career, I think a lot of fans will start to like you and the general public will really love you. After time has passed, I think you’ll come out with a documentary and a portion of that documentary will document or talk about this portion of your life and how the hate was detrimental to your mental health and put you in this very dark and difficult place and it will also show more of you and your crush’s relationship and how close the two of you are and how good you are as a couple. You really will become like an “it” couple for people and they’ll see you as perfect for each other.

Allowing people to know more about you on a personal level and see you for who you truly are will completely change the narrative and you’ll be loved by not only the general public but also your crush’s fan base and you’ll grow your own fan base, as well. I heard “your story in your words” this dark period will have also given you a much thicker skin and really strengthened your relationship with your celebrity crush and after years of saying and posting nothing about each other, you can finally share more about your relationship and not have to hide it so much.

Pile 2 ༣

Cards: two of cups, six of pentacles, the hierophant, king of torches, the high priestess, king of cups, three of torches king of swords, princess of torches

I think you and your celebrity crush would have such a cute relationship 🥺 I think you’d be some sort of influencer or model? Someone that people look up to for fashion, skin care, beauty tips, etc. you’d be the type to be in one of those vogue grwm or skin care videos. You may also have had a difficult life/upbringing that you’re open/vulnerable about online and people really love to hear about your story and find you very inspiring. People also love the way you speak or write. The way you articulate and word things is very powerful and intriguing and it makes people want to listen to what you have to say. A lot of people on social media would have a very parental or older sibling sort of view of you, seeing you as a mentor and looking to you for guidance and advice.

Your celebrity crush’s fans would absolutely adore you. You may be known for interacting with/being kind to fans. I heard “they see you as an angel” 🥺 there would be so much public support for you and your celebrity crush’s relationship. I also think the two of you could travel a lot, specifically to Italy? And you’d be photographed out together holding hands and your street style would be posted a lot and used as inspiration. I think a lot of people follow/like you for your street style. You’d be known for the way you dress and also the way you carry yourself and how you take care of yourself. If you were seen using/wearing some sort of product, it would sell out very quickly because so many people follow what you do and replicate it. You have a very “it” person sort of vibe that people are attracted to.

You and your celebrity crush would have a private but not secret sort of relationship that people would love posting/talking about. It sort of reminds me of Tom Holland and Zendaya. People just love you two together and are really rooting for you. A lot of your relationship seems to be based around travel, exploring the world together. If your celebrity crush is a musician/writer, they’ll write a lot about you and fans will love to dissect lyrics about you and make deep dive posts about the parallels.

You and your celebrity crush would enjoy nature together. Sunlight and early mornings, cooking breakfast together and reading books together. Sitting at the table at dinner time and talking about your days. You’d really enjoy the everyday mundane things. I heard “mom and dad” and earlier in the reading I heard “mother is mothering” 😭 so fans may say these things about you a lot on social media. You and your celebrity crush wouldn’t pay much mind to social media or what’s being said. I heard “your main focus is each other” and “you’re not concerned with what the rest of the world of thinks” you can easily shut it all out and focus on the here and now. You have such a loving, well rounded relationship and a really good support system around you.

If you were drawn to both piles 1 and 2, this pile can be what your life with your celebrity crush is like after overcoming the difficult period described in pile 1. I just felt really strongly that some of my pile 1s were also attracted to this group and I figured some of you would be confused since there’s such a stark contrast in the two piles and wanted to provide some insight for those who need it. If you didn’t feel drawn to the other pile or haven’t already read it, don’t worry about it. That pile may not be for you and that’s perfectly fine :)

Pile 3 ༣

This pile does have 18+ messages. Because of the energy in this pile and the overall relationship spoken about in this pile, there was simply no way for me to do it without making it 18+ and I’m so sorry if that’s not what you’re looking for.

Also, as usual, my 18+ readings are not for minors so please do not read this pile if you are under 18 years of age, this reading is not for you.

Cards: ten of pentacles, king of cups, ace of pentacles, six of pentacles, death, justice, two of pentacles, two of cups, ten of torches ace of cups princess of swords

Pile 3, you may or may not be a Pedro Pascal girly (I mean girly in a gender neutral way. Anyone can be a girly) but that’s definitely the vibe I’m getting. Your celebrity crush is an older male and definitely an actor. I got musician vibes from the other two piles but this is 100% an actor and I think you’d meet them because you would also be an actor.

For a select few of you, your celebrity crush might be David Harbour but for most of you, it’s definitely Pedro Pascal. For some it’s Jamie Campbell Bower. I had to google him cause I didn’t know his name but an image of him kept popping up in my head. He’s only 34 so not as old as David or Pedro but for those of you 18-25 that’s still most definitely an age gap. Mostly Pedro Pascal energy tho.

I’m terribly sorry, Pile 3, but you would not have a healthy, long term relationship with your celebrity crush. However, it would be the most passionate and intense relationship you’d ever have. I think you’d meet on the set of some movie you’re both in and have a very intense and messy, although short lived romance. The sex would be intense and passionate but so would the fights but the makeup sex after the fights would be the best you’d ever have in your entire life. There seems to be an issue with you wanting more and this person person wanting a strictly sexual relationship.

I think I’ve seen somewhere that Pedro Pascal had said he doesn’t do relationships because they hurt too much or something like that and so he prefers to just stay single and this situation definitely gives me those vibes and that’s where a lot of the conflict would come from. You would know that this person feels all the same things you do but they’re fine with just channeling those feelings into the sex the two of you have (which would be what made it so good) while you want to channel it into a relationship and have something long term and stable with this person and it causes a lot of very heated arguments. You can’t stay away from each other though so these arguments never last long.

You’d spend a lot of time trying to make this person jealous or wishing they’d just accept their feelings and pursue a relationship with you however if they did, I think you’d get bored. The passion and intensity is what makes this relationship worth while for both of you and without it you’d just get tired of them and lose interest. You’d need the intense fights and passion makeup sex to make this relationship work and I think your celebrity crush would know that. They may even tell you that you just don’t understand because you’re younger than them and there’s a maturity difference and that would drive you insane. This relationship reminds me a lot of “illicit affairs” by Taylor Swift and I also heard All Too Well (10 Minute Version) when I was shuffling.

There may be blind items/rumors about this relationship because it will be very known on set. People may even hear the two do you fighting (or partaking in other activities 👀) from outside of your trailers. It will definitely be a big topic of gossip on set and online for awhile but nothing with ever be confirmed by anyone publicly and it will live on as a rumor.

Eventually, filming would end and I think this relationship would end with it but you’d spend a long time hung up on this person and still trying to do things to get their attention or make them jealous, long after the two of you are no longer in contact. “Question…?” By Taylor Swift is also playing in my head right now. Specifically the lyric “I don’t remember who I was before you painted all my nights a color I have searched for since” and the lyric “I wake with your memory over me, that’s a real fucking legacy to leave” from Maroon. This relationship would have a huge impact on you and linger in your mind for a very long time, possibly even years. They would always be your “what if” person and the thought of what could have been would haunt you late at night, years and years after it’s ended.

I hope this reading has brought you some sort of peace, clarification, or happiness! Feedback is always appreciated :) have a good day or night. Sending you love and light!

Mara ࿐ྂ

#free tarot readings #free readings #tarotblr #tarot cards #tarot reader #tarot related #pac reading #tarot requests #collective reading #spirituality #celebrity tarot #celebrity crush #tarot #pick a card #pac #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pick a pile #pedro pascal

[bangtaninborderland]

JJK - SEVEN (JK POV)

Summary: you know it isn't healthy, you know you should leave, but you can't and neither can he.

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, kind of toxic relationship.

A/N: there was a slight demand to see jungkooks pov and I thought I’d indulge it! I will be updating all other stories in the next month please bare with me! Once again be kind, I tried to write this as best as I could I tried to think how my ex would be.

BTS MASTERLIST

READER POV

He’d been stuck on this song for weeks, and what had started as a moment of inspiration to create fizzled out into nothing more than an unfinished track giving him a headache.

He felt his phone buzz and he knew even before checking that it was you,

Baby 🖤: I’m home, will you be here for dinner?

He sighs, leaning back in his chair. Realistically he could go home, relax and eat a home-cooked meal with you but then he would have to come back here tomorrow and he really didn’t want to do that. Of course, he felt like an asshole always being at work but that wasn’t something he could control and he knew that you knew that.

He shook his head as he typed his response.

Him: No. Working late, don’t wait up.

Baby🖤: Okay, Love You

Him: Lo- “Jungkook?”

Jungkook was startled at the sight of Yoongi leaning against the door, closing his phone before answering him. “What’s wrong Hyung?”

“Mingyu is here asking for you.”

Jungkook frowned, the other hadn’t called him to let him know he would be coming by. “Why?”

Yoongi shrugged holding the door open for him. “I don’t know, just said it was important.”

“Oh, thanks Hyung.” Jungkook smiled at him before they went their separate ways,

Yoongi turns off into his studio and Jungkook to the waiting area.

“Jungkookie” he was met with the sighs of a sniffling Mingyu, he had clearly been crying.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can we get a drink?”

Jungkook sat next to him, shaking his head. “I’m supposed to be working, I told YN I wouldn’t be home so I can finish the song today. You can talk to me if something is bothering you, I have a little time.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now I just don’t want to be alone.” He paused, eyeing Jungkook before continuing. “If you’re busy I understand.”

He should go back to the studio, he should tell Mingyu he has to work but he doesn’t. He doesn’t because he has to be a good friend, he can come back tomorrow and work because he has to be a good employee and then he can work late to complete his weekend work so he can take the weekend off so he could be a good boyfriend. Jungkook always had to just be good, he had to do everything perfectly.

“It’s okay we can, let me just get my jacket and shut everything off.” Jungkook smiled, patting Mingyus's leg before going to finish up.

It doesn’t take him long and soon enough he is in the passenger seat of Mingyus's car on the way to whatever restaurant the other had chosen.

“How are things between you and your girlfriend?” Mingyu questions.

“It’s good I guess.” Jungkook sighs, not really wanting to open that can of worms. “I’m not giving her enough.”

“What do you mean?” Mingyus eyes flicker to Jungkook before focusing back on the road.

Jungkook leans his head on the window, sighing. “She needs so much attention and reassurance. I know I’m supposed to be the one who gives that to her but I can’t, I don’t even have the time to reassure myself everything is going to be okay. I keep thinking about how easy it would be to break it off and just go back to focusing on work with no distractions.”

“You seem pretty set on that idea.” Mingyu responded. “Have you spoken to her about it?”

“No.” Jungkook huffed. “I can’t, if I do she will just shut down her own needs to try and support me. It makes me feel worse knowing she ignores the things she wants, needs and deserves just to keep me happy. I don’t fucking know what to do.”

“Why don’t you ask for a break?” Mingyu suggests, pulling into the carpark of their usual hangout. “I’m sure she would understand.”

“I can’t do that if I want to leave then I can’t keep her hanging on to hope that may never come. She deserves the world, I just can’t be the one to give it to her.”

The car turns off and it falls silent before Mingyu clears his throat, leaning a little closer to Jungkook. “If you know you can’t give her what she wants then let her go.”

Jungkook didn’t reply, he couldn't. Mingyu was fucking right and he hated it more than anything in the world because she deserved better, deserved the fucking noon and the stars but he couldn’t fulfil that but he also couldn’t leave because as much as he could talk shit about whatever issues they have he loved her to his core, depended on her in so many ways he didn’t know who he would be without her.

Even if he should let her go he won’t, because he can’t stomach the thought he of being alone without the love of his life. He can’t stand the idea of someone else loving her, touching her, being the reason for her smile.

The time flew once they were inside the restaurant come bar, drink going down with a burn enough to make him forget about his inner torment regarding his relationship. Mingyu dropped him home with the promise of seeing him again soon.

Jungkook fumbled with the keypad a few times before getting it right, he wasn’t drunk just a little buzzed.

He was taken aback by how dark everything was, usually, you’d still have at least the kitchen light on. He frowned slipping his shoes off and heading straight the the bedroom. Maybe she had gone to sleep? He frowned again seeing the sheets untouched.

“Marco?” He called out, knowing if you were in the apartment it would get your attention.

He couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest and the memory of teaching you the child’s game. “Polo” he heard you call back.

“I thought you were working late?” She frowned, holding out a hand to him.

Jungkook groaned, not ready for a scolding as he slouched against the couch. “Yeah, well we finished around 7 so Mingyu asked if I wanted to get drinks.” He shrugged. “Don’t get all mad.”

“I’m not mad kook.” She was quick to reassure but Jungkook knew her better than that, she wasn’t mad she was upset and that was far worse. “I just missed you.”

And just like that he was sober, the fuzziness shrouding his brain courtesy of the alcohol he had ingested cleared up instantly. “Fuck I know okay, I know but I don’t need you putting pressure on me too I’m already working hard twenty-four seven, you want me to come home and be the perfect boyfriend to you but where is my time? Where is the time for me? It’s selfish of you to always put your wants first.” He knew he should shut up, knew none of that was true but he couldn’t stop himself.

“No I just meant that I missed you I didn’t-“ she sighed, the argument dying on her tongue. “I’m sorry.”

“You always say that. You just ruined a good day…god” he huffed, a hand running through his hair.

The second the words were out of his mouth he felt a twinge of guilt pang through him. Everything had come out wrong he should have been apologising but all he could feel was anger, anger at himself for being a fucking awful partner even though she had only ever been good to him and for whatever reason he still hadn’t figured out himself he found it all too easy to take it out on her.

“I’m going to shower and then I’ll sleep.” He knew walking away wasn’t right, they should talk, and he should apologise but he couldn’t look at her when she had that glimmer of hurt in her eyes, especially because he’s the one that put it there.

He stepped under the water, his head thrown forward as he let it wash away his worries. As much as he tries to focus on the sound of water pelting off the glass he can’t stop thinking about what just unfolded.

He should walk away, he should let her go so she can find someone who makes her happy but he won’t, and he knows deep inside she won’t leave either, no matter how much of an asshole he is.

He’s sad, although not surprised, to see the bed empty. On days like this, he knew you chose to wait up until he slept and he wasn’t going to interrupt that so he slid under the covers, bordering on that space of awake and sleep until he felt you slide in beside him. He pulled her closer to him, needing your touch before whispering an “I love you.” Placing a soft kiss on your head.

There was so much more he could say, so much he should say but he settled for the three words.

The next morning Jungkook woke up first which was a surprising occurrence but he decided to make the best of it. He quickly showered and got dressed before setting off for the kitchen. Making breakfast although a small act of love was where he decided to start making amends.

He flicked on a playlist of songs Taehyung had made him before letting himself be carried away by the copious chopping and frying.

He noticed her hovering in the doorway. “Good morning baby.”

Jungkook swore his heart grew at the sight of her smile. “Good morning.”

“Come here.” He called out, turning down the stove before opening his arms. He felt himself relax once his body was pressed against her as though it was made to be there. “I’m sorry for last night.”

“It’s okay.” She whispers but he knows it isn’t, regardless of what she says it isn’t okay, and it will never be okay.

Jungkook pushes her back a little, taking in her forced smile before asking “Is it really? Do you forgive me?”

“I’ll always forgive you.” She responded without any hesitation, that was a true answer as unhealthy as it was he knew she meant it with her entirety.

He knew he wasn’t worthy of you, knew that you loved and cared for him far beyond that which he deserved so he promised, he promised himself he would try, he would try to be better, be a fraction of the person she deserved and even if he couldn’t he knew it would be okay because they would always be there, needing one another.

“I’m in love with you.” Jungkook breathed, shifting his head and tilting her chin up to kiss her.

“I’ll love you for the rest of my life.” She mumbled back, a bright smile on her face.

And just like that everything fell back into their normal.

#bts smut #Jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fluff #bts angts #bts x female reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #jimin smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #namjoon x reader #Namjoon smut #hoseok x reader #Hoseok smut #jungkook comfort #taehyung fluff

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

I And Love And You

Thank you anon for the request! I changed it a little bit to be about when reader was pregnant with Savannah because I already have Alex's birth story posted!

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, fear of giving birth, and just a whole lot of fluff

You were pregnant with Alex during the football season a couple of years ago, and Travis was upset that he had to miss almost all of your doctor's appointments and major pregnancy milestones. You spent a lot of time alone up until you gave birth, and while you always reassured him that you were fine, it didn't help him feel any better about not being with you when you needed him the most.

When you found out that you were having your second child, Travis never left your side as early as six weeks. His hands were constantly on your stomach, a reassuring touch you always appreciated, and he was always talking to the baby as you laid in bed together. He was obsessed with your growing belly, and the thought of being a father again. The two of you never really talked about it much, but you were so glad that you were pregnant during the off season this time around, because you weren't so sure you could do this alone again.

Three Months Pregnant

"Good Morning", Travis mumbled into your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head as he watched you stir milk into your tea. His hand traveled down to your belly, his calloused fingers rubbing up and down against the fabric of your t-shirt. You giggled as he tickled your skin, leaning back in his hold. "Baby, I'm barely even 12 weeks, I'm not even close to showing yet."

"I know, I'm just excited. I missed a lot of your doctor's appointments when you were pregnant with Bub", he shrugged, grabbing a protein shake out of the fridge, "I don't want to miss anything."

You gave him a gentle smile, "You won't, I promise, but the baby right now is so tiny, you're probably feeling the burrito I ate last night more than anything."

Six Months Pregnant

"Travis, your hands are freezing, babe." You peeked one eye open, shivering as Travis put his hands on your bare skin as soon as he saw you on the couch. "Sorry, babe." Travis rubbed his hands together to warm them up, using his breath to speed up the process. He had just walked back inside after playing in the snow with Alex, his hands numb. You didn't even notice you had fallen asleep on the couch until you heard Bub running into the house.

You were exhausted, falling asleep as soon as you sat or laid down anywhere. The first couple of months of pregnancy had been difficult with Alex as well, and you were fully expecting to be feeling better now that you were in the second trimester, but something was definitely different. Your doctors assured you that the baby was fine, but you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something might be wrong.

"How are you feeling?" Travis pressed a kiss on the top of your stomach, resting his forehead against your sweater. "Shh, I don't want Savannah's first words to be "are you okay?", you chuckled, scratching Travis' head gently with your nails. "I know. I know." You winced at a sharp pain in your lower back, Travis grabbing your hand to steady you. "Hey, are you okay?" His eyebrows scrunched together in worry. "Yes, your daughter insists on using my back to practice her karate kicks."

"Hey, be nice to your mama, baby girl", Travis whispered. "You're still cookin' in there, we need her."

Seven Months Pregnant

As soon as you got the news that Savannah's lungs were underdeveloped and she might come earlier than expected, you were on edge, constantly worried, and forced to bed rest to make sure both of you stayed as healthy as possible. You started experiencing early labor at 30 weeks, and Travis went on leave to care for you full time.

The night that Savannah was born, you had been in labor for a couple hours, your contractions still too far apart to head to the hospital. You had been through this before, and determined not to panic, so you went through your nighttime routine like it was any other day.

Travis walked into the bedroom after putting Alex down to sleep for the night, walking over to you when he saw you struggling to open the cap of your lotion bottle. "Let me help you." You didn't even object, handing it to him and pulling your shirt up to expose your stomach. Travis was as careful as possible as he massaged the cream into your skin. "You look so beautiful baby", he gave you a gentle smile, steadying your hands when he he saw them shaking.

"I don't even know why I'm so nervous, this is our second baby." You wiped the tears that were beginning to build at your lash line. "I'm so glad you're here, I don't know if I could do this without you." Travis covered you with the blanket, laying down next to you and pulling you into his side. "You don't give yourself enough credit, babe. You're so incredibly strong, I'm in awe of you every day. I'm right here with you, and before we know it, we'll be bringing our baby girl home."

One Week Postpartum

You stood in Savannah's nursery, the room dark and cold. As much as it broke your heart, you had to head home after spending a week in the NICU with your brand new baby. Alex needed to get back into a routine, but you felt an overwhelming sense of guilt that a part of your heart wasn't here in your arms like you had planned. Travis leaned against the threshold of the door, watching you fold some clean baby clothes. "Don't even think about it." You held up a finger to stop him from asking you the only question you knew you wouldn't be able to answer honestly.

He held up his hands in surrender, walking over to you and pulling you into his chest. "I already know. I'm not okay either." You sighed, allowing yourself to melt into his hold. Travis' hand instinctively found your belly, and you couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry, habit." He chuckled, lifting your chin to place a kiss on your lips. You stopped him as he tried to pull his hand away, patting it as he rubbed against your t-shirt again. "I know I'm not pregnant, but I've grown to love it."

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#travis kelce fluff #travis kelce fic #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce #traviskelce #nfl fic #dad!travis kelce #nfl fluff #nfl fan fic #nfl imagine

[tendrbelly]

This guy never expected to be pregnant with twins. Nor did he expect to have intense cravings for Mexican food.

Good news, this food truck regularly parked outside his gym, so his cravings were easily satisfied.

Bad news, he satisfied his cravings several times a day for over seven months.

Good news, thanks to all that Mexican food, his babies are healthy and more than ready for their scheduled arrival next month.

Bad news, thanks to all the Mexican food, the babies are expected to be muy grande, just like the burritos he's been eating every day.

#ball belly #male pregnancy #mpreg belly #mpreg #mpreg kink #mpreg morph #mpregmorph #pregnant man #mpreg ai #mpregai

[spdrvyn]

nauseously nurtured: MIGUEL O'HARA

after getting discharged from work, miguel tries to give you as much as attention as possible while he's away. only to grow concerned, when you don't pick up his call on the last day of your break.

hurt/comfort. omg?! another post?! that's crazy, anyway time to disappear for a month! (just kidding, i have another fic to post on v-day)

Love is in the air? Wrong, gas leak! 

That was the clever message you sent to Miguel while he bombarded you with calls immediately afterwards to check if you were okay. It was as you described, there was a gas leak at work so you had the next three days off as they sorted the issue. 

He had insisted (if not, forced) you to quarantine in that duration for good reasoning, spoiling you with all of your favorite take out places while you two tried to keep in touch through call and messages. 

Concern had worn Miguel through when he got back home to you, he wasn't able to tear himself away. Checking your eyes, ears, mouth even for any signs of sickness and letting out the biggest huff of relief when you're completely spotless. You insisted that the only sickness in you was how sick you were for him, to that he wanted to roll his eyes at but he'll put up with your corny lines as long as it meant you were healthy and happy. 

Next morning, he dreaded having to go to work. Multiversal protection wasn't something he was feeling when you were home and all his for the taking, but you practically pushed him out of bed when he didn't let up on his grasp on you. Still, his attachment didn't evade you even when you were miles away from each other. 

You texted him the oddest things, Miguel found himself with a fond smile in the middle of a full cafeteria with multiple eyes on him because you sent him a stupid fucking 0.5 image of a stray cat. To which he had to glare other spiders down from sheer embarrassment, scarfing down his food to hide back into his office. 

The call time averaged on four hours, sometimes seven to eight if there wasn't any urgent business. Jess or Peter B. would join in too, but the latter was more intrusive if all else. 

On the third way, you don't call him. 

Nor do you pick up Miguel's calls, the worry came back to him like it always did. He texted you, over and over but you didn't even leave him on read either. 

Of course, he's unlucky enough to have more business that urgently needs tending to so he takes care of that first. Gruffly pushing buttons on his watch to call you again as the extraction team works behind him, he brightens up under the mask when you actually answer him this time. 

That little hologram he'd have of you doesn't appear this time, which means that your video was off. Again, strange. You always had your video on when talking to him, most of the time it wasn't even focused on you but whatever you were doing. Still, he wasn't going to waste the little time he had thinking about it. 

"Cariño," he felt the breath enter his lungs again. "You didn't pick up my call a while ago, que paso? Are you feeling sick from the leak?" That last question stuck to his suspicions as he heard the sound of sniffling and nose blowing on the other side of the call, the grip he had on his wrist tightening. 

"Migs, I need you." you sniffled, "Could you come home please?" You didn't need to say anymore than that. 

As the team begun to call for him, he cussed under his breath. Moving closer to his watch to wish you a goodbye before ending the call, sending you a quick text that he'd be home soon and he does. 

Two hours later. 

There were too many problems that needed taking care of. Injured spiders, broken equipment, not to mention that the signal towers were down for whatever reason so he couldn't find a way to contact you. It was maddening to maintain any sort of composure in those two hours, the thought of you all sick and needy at home was the only thing keeping him from simply losing it. 

He'd swung back to his home in a daze, nearly missing sight of the poles or buildings in his way that he'd almost bumped into them and probably would have caused him more time to get back to you. It was already dark when he slipped into the window, when he saw your shriveling form on the bed. 

You had a comforter draped over your entire body, a show blasting from your phone speaker. Multiple tissues were scattered on the sheets of the bed, littered on the floor too. An empty glass of water with a crumpled pack of chips on the bedside table, how pitiful it all looked. 

He approached the bed slowly, letting his presence be known by his weight being brought down on the mattress as it sunk slightly. The noises from your phone silence as he pulls the blanket up slightly, only to discover that you're not sick. 

Puffy eyes, messy hair, ruined makeup, outside clothes, and runny mascara were telltale signs of what had happened for you to be in such a state. His gaze had softened, but yours didn't. Your frown deepened as you yanked the comforter from his grasp and covered yourself with it again as another sob was ripped from you. 

"I– things were getting too crazy back at work," he begun to grovel. "Lo siento, por favor. I should've been there for you and I wasn't, please forgive me." 

He noticed the tremble as you growled in frustration, abandoning your hiding altogether as you seethed at him. "God damn it!" the ink from your mascara no longer had any sort of effect, clear tears streamed down your cheeks. "Why– why do you have to do this everytime? Ask for forgiveness, be so- so understanding and caring for- for other people—" 

His confusion is most imminent, but the fretfulness on his face overshadowed that as you curled against him, your hands fisting the nano-fabric of his suit. It glitches and bends around your manicured fingers, his own hands move to grip your waist and pull you closer to him in some form of a hug. 

"You know what they said about you?" your voice shook with unease, "They said that you're so perfect, too good for me, how it was even possible that I bagged someone like you." 

Disdain plagued each word that you spewed, Miguel wanted to be offended, he should have been offended. But deep down, he knows that all of his hatred was truly directed at yourself. "Who's 'they'?"

"My friends!" you pushed against him once more, but his hands remained steady on you. Moving up and down your sides in a gesture of soothing, you push a dainty finger against the hard muscle of his chest. "And they're right! I don't even know if it's all in good fun anymore because- because you—" 

No more is able to come out of your mouth aside from a pathetic croak, you shudder before your grip on his suit loosens and you become limp against his hold. "M'sorry," you whimper, "I'm being emotional again. Too much. You have too much of me." 

This hurt so much more than any wound he's sustained from battle, seeing you in this state was bad enough, but to know that he wasn't able to come to your beck and call the moment he'd heard about it probably stung even more. 

How could he be so careless? Why couldn't he go just a little faster at HQ? Maybe then, you wouldn't have turned out like this. A sad, shivering mess in his hold. His fingers curl around your cheeks, flushed and red. Either from crying or from being inebriated, it didn't matter.

"It's okay," he leans forward, your tears are salty as he kisses them away. Your breath hitches, eyelashes fluttering as his lips feel hot on your skin. "I think it's beautiful. You're beautiful." 

The moment freezes for a bit, Miguel's lips barely leave your face, neither does his hands as he calms you down. You think how someone could be so sweet, while barely even saying a word. He mumbles unintelligible phrases under his breath that you're too dazed to pick up on, but you can only hope he's whispering about how much he loves you.

And he really does, he loves you more than whatever "too much" meant. The rush of victory he feels after successfully completing a mission couldn't compare to the sheer happiness of getting home to you, safe and sound. Confiding in your presence, forgetting about everything and everybody else until the next morning. 

It gets harder and harder to move, to breathe, you go as limp as a ragdoll. Miguel still holds you, he moves his lips to your forehead in one long kiss. There's still some part of you that wants to be closer, closest, so weakly you pull at his bicep.

He shields you from all else for a while, the idle sounds of the city don't even make it to your ears except for the steady thump of Miguel's heart as your cheek is pressed against his chest. His hand tangles in your hair, brushing through knots while scratching at your scalp in the meanwhile. 

You don't think that you say anything to each other for the rest of the night, but that's okay. You're okay. You're beautiful. 

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #but no y/n used #x reader #x you #x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #fluff #romance #hurt/comfort

[nonotnolan]

Treat Day

"Look, I appreciate your concern, but as you can see I am fully capable of keeping myself healthy and in shape." Henry wiped pastry crumbs off his hand before tracing the ridges of his chest. "The occasional treat day is not the end of the world."

"Hold up, 'myself' healthy? Absolutely not. That is my body!" I glared at him, staring at the breakfast spread of buttery baked goods and sugar-laden jams. "I am not going to sit here and watch you make a mockery of my life!"

He smiled at me. "You're right, Henry. You won't. Because I'm going to call security on you for trespassing."

"You wouldn't dare." I stared into my former eyes, expecting to see to see weakness or hesitation. To my horror, the man I used to call my friend was not backing down.

"It's been seven months," he said, picking up his cell phone. "It's time that we come to terms with this new reality. Clearly I'm going to have to update the lock code on my front door, that's one me. Nevertheless, you are not wanted here. Now will you leave quietly, or will you be spending the night in jail?"

He had the upper hand, and he knew it. I fled downstairs and out the front door, leaving behind the influencer lifestyle I had worked so hard to build. I knew karma would catch up to him eventually, but I also knew that it would not help me get my body back. I found myself lost in my thoughts, walking down the streets of my former neighborhood until the buzz of my cell phone caught my attention.

"Hey bud. Just a little memento of what you lost."

That bastard, gloating about what he stole from me. It's not like I've been spending the last few months wallowing in despair, but it was as if this new body of mine was incapable of losing weight. Part of me thinks it was a part of whatever curse swapped our bodies, but... this new body of mine has urges that are just impossible to control. I let out a deep sigh as I saved the photo to my personal spank bank collection. Seven months, and I had yet to go more than three days without masturbating.

"Alright," I said to myself, "you can break your no-nut streak to jack off to your old body tonight. It's just a treat day."

-------------------------------------------------

Want to read more by this author? Dicked (Over) by a Demon by Nolan Sempers, for sale on Amazon.

#male body swap #gay body swap #male body theft #nerd to jock #after the swap #body swap revenge

[thepastisalreadywritten]

By Brian Melley, AP News

13 January 2024

LONDON (AP) — An unlikely refugee from the war in Ukraine — a rare Asiatic black bear — arrived at his new home in Scotland on Friday and quickly took to a meal of cucumbers and watermelon.

The 12-year-old Yampil was named for a village in the Donetsk region where he was one of the few survivors found by Ukrainian troops in the remains of a bombed-out private zoo.

Yampil, who had previously been called Borya, was discovered by soldiers who recaptured the devastated city of Lyman during the Kharkiv counteroffensive in the fall of 2022, said Yegor Yakovlev of Save Wild, who was among the first of many people who led the bear to a new life.

The bear was found in a menagerie that had long been abandoned by its owners.

Almost all the other animals had died of hunger, thirst or were struck by bullets or shrapnel and some were eaten by Russian troops.

Yampil narrowly missed the same fate, suffering a concussion from a projectile that landed nearby.

“The bear miraculously survived,” said Yakovlev, also director of the White Rock Bear Shelter, where the bear recovered.

“Our fighters did not know what to do with him, so they started looking for rescue.”

What followed was an odyssey that your average bear rarely makes, as he was moved to Kyiv for veterinary care and rehab, then shipped to a zoo in Poland, then to an animal rescue in Belgium, where he spent the past seven months, before landing in the United Kingdom.

Brian Curran, owner of Five Sisters Zoo in West Calder, Scotland, said his heart broke when he learned of the plight of the threatened Asiatic black bear.

“He was in terrible condition; five more days and they wouldn’t have been able to save him,” Curran said. “We were just so amazed he was still alive and well.”

The bear was skinny but not malnourished when he was found, said Frederik Thoelen, a biologist at the Nature Help Center in Belgium.

He now is estimated to weigh a healthy 440 pounds (200 kilograms), Thoelen said.

The nature center in Belgium, which usually treats injured wildlife and returns them to their natural settings, has taken several animals rescued from the war in Ukraine, including a wolf, a caracal cat and four lions, though those animals had not experienced the ordeal Yampil endured.

It was remarkable how calm Yampil was when he arrived in Belgium, Thoelen said.

The bear was trained in the past two weeks to move from his enclosure to the crate that would transport him across Belgium to Calais, France, then across the English Channel on a ferry to Scotland.

Pastries from a local bakery were used for good measure to lure him Thursday into the cage, where he was sedated for the journey.

“We want to use the food that he likes most, and for most bears — and for people also — it’s sweet, unhealthy foods,” Thoelen said.

Thoelen had a sense of the bear’s weight as he drove the crate to the port.

“Every time when we had a red light or a traffic jam, when the bear moved a little bit, you could feel the van moving also,” he said.

“You could feel it was a heavy animal in the back of the car.”

Yampil arrived at the zoo about 15 miles (25 kilometers) west of Edinburgh and immediately made himself at home.

He feasted on cukes — said to be his favorite food — and melon, said Adam Welsh, who works at Five Sisters.

The Asiatic black bear is listed on the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species as vulnerable to extinction in the wild, where it can be found in central and southern Asia, Russia, and Japan.

It’s known for the distinctive white crescent patch on its chest that gives it the nickname moon bear. It can live for up to 30 years in zoos.

It’s not clear if the bear will go into hibernation. The winter has been warmer than usual but colder days are on the horizon.

The zoo has other bears, but Yampil is the only Asian bear and unique in other ways.

“We’ve had circus bears, for example, that have been rescued,” Welsh said.

“We’ve had bears rescued from places like roadside restaurants where they’ve been used as kind of roadside attractions and been kept in subpar conditions. But this is the first time that we’ve worked with an animal that’s been rescued from a war zone.”

Scottish zoo welcomes black bear which survived war in Ukraine

13 January 2024

🖤🐻🤎

#Asiatic black bear #Ukraine #Scotland #Yampil #Borya #Save Wild #White Rock Bear Shelter #Five Sisters Zoo #Nature Help Center #Belgium #Poland #International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species #moon bear #save animals #protect wildlife #threatened species #refugee bear #private zoo #Youtube

[melanieph321]

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS (DAY 6)

Ruben Dias x Reader - Shame on You Part 2/2

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

+18

Part 1

Request - Hi, can you do one where the reader has a ta and ruben makes an unintentional comment about her body and she gets neurotic and stops eating and he notices?

Enjoy!

It began with a reduction of sugar in your current diet, meaning that you weren't adding anything to your coffee in the morning nor sprinkling it over your daily bowl of freshly picked berries. However,  your diet quickly evolved when you became a vegan, cutting off animal products altogether.

In Ruben's eyes, you were making healthy lifestyle choices, and you lived for the praise he gave you in the form of love and affection. You see, Ruben enjoyed morning sex before heading out for the day. It was very exciting at first, taking your relationship to a whole nother level intimately. However, at one point, it also became very exhausting for you. With your new diet, you simply didn't have the energy for sex, at least not every day like Ruben. One morning, he seemed to notice your lack of performance, leaving you very embarrassed when he asked you about it.

"Are you sure you're good?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

Ruben had been laying on top of you, but rolled to his side as if to give you space.

"Y/N. I don't know how to put it to you but it seems to me like you weren't enjoying yourself."

"Well maybe we can try another position?" Your voice sounded less confident than you wanted it to be.

"Y/N." Ruben smiled, reaching out to stroke the bottom of your lip with his thumb. "I don't think another position is gonna help if you're not feeling comfortable to begin with."

"Or maybe you just don't want me anymore?"

"What, no. Y/N, that's not what I...."

You got out of bed, desperately looking for something to cover yourself with. Ruben's shirt lay on the floor, you bent down to pick it up but was startled by Ruben who appeared before you in the nude, searching your face as if you had just been wacked in the face by a golf club.

"What's the matter?" He asked.

Your eyes darted at your feet. "Nothing I...."

"Y/N." He grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to meet his eyes. "Please, you can tell me. You have to tell me."

You shook your head and batted away the tears. "I..."

"Yes?"

"I don't know, okay."

You looked up. Ruben didn't appear the slightest convinced.

"You don't want to tell me?"

"It's not that, I just can't."

"Why?" Ruben sat down, dragging you to the edge of the bed for you to stand in between his legs. His hands went to stroke the length of your body, growing goosebumps on your naked skin.

"Ruben I'm..."

"Yes?"

He was taller than you, even when he was sitting down, your faces were at level. The way his was looking at you, at your body. Ruben was looking at you as if it didn't matter.

"Y/N, please tell me what's wrong?"

You sighed, stepping forwards, your head tilting forwards until it knocked against Ruben's. "I want cake."

"What?"

"And cookies. Ice cream too."

Ruben chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as he did. "Okay. Is it that time of the month or...?"

You pulled back, eyebrows furrowed.

"No?"

You shook your head. "No. I'm just..."

"Just...?"

You sighed. "I'm just fat, okay. Fat and hungry. So fucking hungry. And I don't want a salad, I want real food. Meat, and possibly a sponge cake for dessert.

Ruben looked puzzled.

"I know how you feel about me having dessert, but perhaps that's your problem not mine."

Ruben sat quiet, your rant having come to an end. He was still looking at you in the same way he had done minutes ago. With admiration and lust. Perhaps it wasn't the best to give it to him straight with your nipples in his face. However, Ruben had solemnly kept his eyes on you and only you, ignoring your titts.

"So you want dessert?" He said.

You bit your lip and nodded. "A cake."

"Anything else?"

"Yes. I want a steak from breakfast."

"Is that so?"

"Mhm. With baked potatoes, just the way your mom made them the last time she came to visit."

There was a dip in Ruben's left cheek. His arms pulled you close, pressing your body against his, his face now buried between your breast. "Is that all?"

"Yes." You nodded. "What are you having for breakfast?"

He smiled, but tilted down to kiss the center of your stomach, tracing them downwards until your back bent over his forearms.

"Ruben." You giggled. "I'm serious. What are you having for breakfast, I'll make you anything."

"Anything?" He looked up, eyes drunk and dazed.

"Yes. What do you want?" You were slightly afraid to hear his answer.

"If I can have anything, then I want you for breakfast."

"What?"

He said this and returned to serande your belly with kisses, awakening every nerve in your body.

"Ruben, you can't..."

Oh but he could. With one swift movement he had you on the bed again, your legs spread before him. He bent down to kiss your inner thigh with the most gentle of touches. It was short lived however, with Ruben tracing his kisses towards your center. Your fingertips traced the rough tips of his hair, and when he licked you your back arched with the pleasure that shot threw your spine.

"Fuck." You sighed.

"You taste wonderful." He murmured.

You smiled. "Better than cake?"

"Better than any dessert. You taste so sweet, sweeter than sugar."

"Hmm, Ruben Dias treating himself to something sweet, I see."

He raised his head, a dent between his brows. "Yes, and?"

You chuckled. "Well, shame on you."

Part 1

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #seven days of requests