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keyotos · 11 months

Note

i am absolutely in love with ur writing AND with gepard landau,, can i request a first kiss fic for him? i read your kiss the girl fic for dan heng and ITS SO GOOD!! tysm in advance, take care of yourself!

teenage dream

summary ⎯ gepard knows he can't keep these feelings to himself. gepard also knows that he can never tell you about how he feels. so, he goes to the person he tells all his secrets to: serval. serval, who told pela. pela, who is determined to set you two up. and doing so, entails a bookish adventure for you to enjoy.

tana's words ⎯ i too am in love with gepard. i feel u anon. also thank u for the kind words!

tags ⎯ matchmaking (serval and pela). first kiss. pining (this should be expected). bookish!reader. bookstore owner!reader. oblivious idiots.

IT’S EXTREMELY SURPRISING TO HEAR GEPARD frantically knocking on the doors of nevermore workshop, so serval obviously had to open the doors for him.

when he entered, gepard immediately shut the doors as if he was being followed. the expression on his face was dire; he looked as if he was chased by wolves and he was being hunted down.

“gepard?” serval asked, concern dripping in her tone, “what the hell happened?”

“serval,” gepard panted. serval was getting worried; this was all irregular behavior coming from gepard, “i need help.”

gepard never asked for help. he is one of the most self-sufficient and stubborn people serval knows. he would rather stare death in the face instead of asking someone for help.

“what is it?” serval rushed by his side, “whatever you need, i got you.”

“i think i have feelings for,” gepard sighed, palm dragging across his face, “the owner of the bookstore,” he finishes quietly.

serval’s jaw dropped. it wasn’t because of the declaration of gepard’s crush. it was that he made it sound so dramatic. serval thought that he was being tracked down and was about to be sent to the madhouse.

“are you serious!” serval shoved gepard, “i thought you were about to die or something!”

gepard recoiled at serval’s shove; his sister was stronger than most people thought, “it feels like i am! every time i’m around them my heart rate quickens so much that i think i’m about to have a heart attack. i get all nervous on the inside and i can barely think with them beside me.”

aeons, gepard has definitely fallen in love with you.

“wait⎯so, where are you gonna go from here?” serval leaned on the counter, trying to process all the words her brother confessed.

“that’s the thing,” gepard sighed again. he sounded like a lovesick puppy, “i don’t know. that’s why i came here, i thought you’d be able to help.”

“um. you are aware of my past relationship with cocolia, right? i think i’m like the least qualified person you should be asking romance advice from,” serval pointed out.

“i don’t know who else i could tell,” gepard ran a hand through his hair. this was really stressing him out.

“how about you just… tell them?” serval suggested.

“no!!” gepard shook his head distraughtly, “i can’t do that. what if they don’t feel the same?”

“then it’s not meant to be,” serval said, “simple as that.”

“but it’s not,” gepard whined. serval thought he was making this a lot more complicated than it needed to be. when she was his age, she confessed her feelings to cocolia like it was nothing. they were happy until the break up anyway.

but then it donned on serval. gepard had little to no relationship experience. the only “experience” serval remembers him having was when they were children: his friend had a crush on him and tried to confessed, but gepard rejected her.

that’s why gepard was so distressed. he had no idea how to go on with this. these feelings for you? all new. what he missed out as a teenager, he is now getting as an adult.

“tell you what,” serval wrapped her arm around her brother’s shoulder, “i’ll get this sorted out. trust me. yn will never know about this,” she reassured him.

“you just go along with your guardly duties. i’ll help you,” serval grinned. she knew that she had the perfect plan. except, she couldn’t do it alone.

pela already knew about your crush on the silvermane guard captain. every time he greeted the two of you at the book store, pela practically saw the hearts in your eyes. it was sickening and disgusting, but it was cute too.

what pela didn’t know, however, was that gepard has a crush on you as well.

serval came to pela just a few minutes after gepard’s confession. she knew that she probably shouldn’t have told pela right after the conversation happened, but serval didn’t know how else to console gepard.

“so… you’re telling me that they both like each other?!” serval slammed her hands on the counter. “and they’re both too scared to confess!?”

“that’s exactly what i said, yes,” pela monotonously replied.

you knew that there couldn’t be anything between you and gepard. it was highly improbable that you, a bookstore owner, would be able to gain the captain of the silvermane guard’s interest. it seemed like something straight out of a fictional (key word: fictional) romance novel.

so you appreciated his friendship while he was around. sometimes, as a way to become closer to the captain, you’d suggest different books to him every week. despite being on the front lines quite often, he always comes back to see you. well, he comes back for the books anyway.

serval groaned into her hands, “so what do we do? they both like each other but they literally can’t bear to admit it.”

pela smirked. she’s read enough romance novels to figure out what to do next.

“two words, serval,” pela smirked, “grand. gesture.”

gepard took a few deep breaths before approaching your book store. after his chat with serval, he's been distressed the entire day. he had these feelings for you storming all over his body; occasionally, they'd get so strong that it would feel like those feelings would overtake him.

he opened the door, book in hand, and greeted you formally. gepard couldn't help it: he was so nervous, he wasn't able to function straight.

"hello, captain gepard," you turned around. you were on a latter stacking books on top of bookshelves. originally, you thought it would be cool to have towering shelves, however you quickly learned that it was extremely impractical and difficult.

"i told you," gepard stood near the counter, refusing to slouch in your presence, "you can call me gepard."

"and i told you," you grunted, trying to reach a higher spot on a shelf, "to drop the formalities," you grinned to yourself.

gepard noticed your (potentially) perilous situation and quickly got near the end of the latter. in the case that you fall, at least gepard would be there to catch you.

fortunately, you made your way down the tall latter peacefully. as you descended, the sight of gepard holding down the latter for you made you flush. it was the bare minimum, but it still made your heart speed up.

when he reached out his hand to guide you down (it was out of instinct), you gave him a warm smile. it looked easy on the outside, but you were burning up on the inside. similarly, gepard had the same reaction. for you, he'd do anything.

"thank you," you held onto his hand for a little longer. once you realized what you were doing you quickly recoiled your hand away and apologized. gepard wished your hand was still entwined with his; he wanted to hold onto to the feeling of your hand in his. gepard wanted to trace patterns on your hands, wanted to feel every part of them.

as an attempt to dissipate the tension (it was making you nervous), you decided to ask gepard for help. "we had a busy day yesterday. a best seller recently came out; people were storming the shelves. good for my profit but not good for my sanity," you let out an airy laugh, "would you mind helping me clean up?"

realizing what you just did (asking the captain of the silvermane guards for help) you quickly added, "unless you're busy! then i'll be okay. you can leave. i'll be fine," you rambled.

gepard parted his lips, almost as if he was about to say something. how could you ever think he wouldn't make time for you? even so, he'd deploy a few other guards if you needed help. he'd make sure your needs were met as soon as possible.

he reached his arm out; his hands were close to your collarbone. then he reached back, scared of what would happen next. how silly. the captain of the silvermane guards was not scared of no monster, but of rejection of the one he likes.

"i'll stay for anything," gepard blurted. you were taken aback for a second, but then once you realized what he had just said, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and covertly pinched yourself to make sure that whatever was happening was not a dream.

gepard didn't intend to add, "anything," to his sentence. but his mind was thinking it, and then it just accidentally came out. he meant what he said though. if the bluntness of his voice didn't show his sincerity, the blush that was slowly grazing his face probably did.

"thank you, gepard," you bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from beaming too hard. you had to turn away from the captain once again, for your smile at his words would be too embarrassing to show. how silly of you to act so giddy and childish at one simple word.

gepard thinks he could hear you say his name a million times, and he would never get bored. he wants to hear his name on your lips as if it were a mantra; you've said his name a few times before, and each time he swears he gets more and more addicted to the sound.

"how about i start on the right and you'll start on the left. that way, we'll both finish in the middle!" you clapped your hands together. you gave gepard a reassuring smile.

you two started on opposite sides, but how gepard wished that you two would be closer. however, there are positives to this situation. gepard can brainstorm ideas for the "grand gesture" pela and serval texted him about.

gepard already had ideas in mind. he just needed to figure out the material for them. he obviously will not tear out papers from a book; that will cause more harm than good (for you and gepard; he cares about books).

while gepard was planning, you were blushing. you still couldn't believe he actually stayed with you. surely, there are more important deeds than helping out a leisurely bookstore owner. and this was the most boring task ever: organizing books. yet, gepard was still here. and he was only a few feet away from you.

you turned back to observe gepard; you wanted to see if you had trapped him in a boring task or not. to your surprise, gepard seemed to be enjoying this. he would flip through pages of various books, spend time reading the summaries; gepard would even go as far to reading the first few pages of some books.

gepard liked to read. at first, he started coming to the bookstore to fetch some books for pela. however, after he met you, he began to adopt a newfound interest in books that he never had before. he read some of pela's books, discovered that he did not like them, and went to browse for more. that's when you came up. you thought you had talked his entire ear off that entire morning; you went on and on and on about what kind of books he would like.

you tried to ignore him afterwards; you even offered the books for free because you were so embarrassed. but gepard kept coming back. your recommendations impressed him: gepard had never met anyone who was so meticulous at their craft. and he loved hearing you talk. he loved your rambles, your rants, your reviews. maybe that was the first sign.

gepard caught your gaze as he turned around. he had the same motivation as you: he wanted to see how you were faring in this task. did you miss the proximity you had before? are you flustered as well? do you like him too?

you two were both staring at each other, thoughts racing, until you shouted, "see something you like?" to break the tension.

gepard thought the question was a taunt at first; similar to asking, "like what you see?"

"no!" he abruptly shouted, trying to hide the fact that he was just staring at you. and then he realized the real meaning of your question: he was browsing the books with such intensity. the truth was, he was trying to find your favorite books. you've informed him about them before, always on your bookish rants. he was going to use them for his gesture later on.

thinking that he now looks like an idiot, gepard tries to save himself by shouting back, "i mean⎯ yes! i do. these books are nice," he tried to cover up.

you seemed not to register his mistake, as you tell him, "whatever you want, it's on the house. for your work today. it'll be on the house for life!" you put some books on some shelves and move closer to the middle.

gepard shook his head and chuckled, "you've always given books to me for free." he put some books back and continued around the room.

"are you complaining?" you raised an eyebrow, "what if i just kept a tab on you this entire time? and you never knew?" more books get put away.

"then i'd rightfully pay you back," gepard wholeheartedly responded, "or i'd arrest you," he joked.

you mock-gasped, "for what?" you're getting closer to the middle now.

stealing my heart, the intrusive part of gepard's mind thought. he'd been hanging out with serval too much; he would never say that. gepard internally cringed.

"false advertising," he moved closer to the middle, “i don't know," he smiled to himself. gepard doesn't think he would have the heart to arrest you.

you blushed at hearing the captain lost on amendments. the captain wouldn't know how to arrest you. is this flirting? or are you reading too much into it?

you don't know if the heat on the back of your neck is from gepard's words or the sun shining so brightly on the back of your neck. you stack some more books on shelves; you've now reached the middle. you're having trouble reaching one of the shelves, but you're too lost in your thoughts to even think about that.

in fact, you're too lost in your thoughts that you don't even notice the warmth disappear from the back of your neck. your cheeks are still warm, so you are still blushing. your struggles with the tall bookshelf are lost when you feel a hand over yours.

"i'll take that," gepard quietly mumbles. it's so quiet that you didn't hear it at first.

on instinct, you turn towards him. when you looked at the position the both of you were in, you noticed that you were caged against him. you were caged against the captain of the silvermane guards. against a bookshelf.

gepard towered over you. his body was centimeters closer to fully pressing on you. his breath was fanning on your face. you could see every detail of his face from your view from below. your hands were so close to grazing his chest, so you immediately slapped them to your sides. you gulp, you start to breath quicker, and you feel like you're about to combust.

you swallowed, trying not to move. you were frozen in place as you tried not to disturb gepard. you gaped at him as he was working to organize the books, not noticing the position the two of you were in.

when gepard finished, he gave a sigh of relief. he underestimated your job: if you had to do this every day, you were probably stronger than some of his soldiers. when he opened his eyes, he was greeted by your wide eyes staring right into his.

he was breath-taken by your beauty. the look in your eyes as you look into his was captivating. gepard needed it framed. the way your lips parted made him go feral; his heart stuttered with every second he looked at you.

his arm was pinned above your head. your bodies were so close that you kept focusing on the rise and fall of gepard’s chest. the way his expression scanned yours made you want to quiver against him.

you said the first sentence, “hard work?” your tone was breathless. you were still trying to catch your breath.

“yeah,” he sighed, still not noticing the way your bodies curved into each other, “hard work.”

“did i waste your time?” you whispered. it was quiet, like you were ashamed of your actions. you looked down at his chest rather than his face.

“no,” gepard leaned in, trying to hear your voice one more time. he tilted your head up slightly with his fingers so you could look at him, “you’d never.”

silence crippled the room. it was just you and gepard, the two of you leaning oh-so-close together that your lips were nearly about to touch. a part of you wanted to lean into him; you wanted to pull him closer and closer until you were both out of breath.

but that was delusional. that was something straight out of romance novels, and your life was anything but.

gepard leaned in closer on purpose. he gave into temptation and wanted to feel your lips on his. he wanted to grab you by the waist and pull you so tightly into him. he wanted this: he wanted your kiss, he wanted your insight, he wanted you.

but with gepard, want is not something one could have. especially one like him.

“i’m sorry,” he abruptly let go, “i’m⎯i think, i have something i need to do,” he took a few steps back away from you, leaving about three feet in distance. quite the opposite from how you two were positioned a few seconds ago.

“oh,” you let go immediately. “i’m sorry! i didn’t know,” you quickly ran to the other side of the room. you wanted to hide from embarrassment.

“not your fault!” gepard shouted as he headed for the exit, “goodbye mx yn!”

you didn’t bother to say goodbye as you slammed the door shut after he left. what just happened was mortifying. the position you two were in? the way you two gradually leaned closer to each other? no wonder he ran away, you thought, you must’ve scared him off.

oh, if only you knew how wrong you were.

you didn't see gepard for a week after the incident. he hadn't come into the bookstore at all the entire week. however, that also could've been your fault: you've been in and out of the bookstore for the past week. if you faced gepard after the incident (you've dubbed), you'd probably apologize and beg for forgiveness.

but still, wouldn't he come in and leave a note? wouldn't he at least stop by once? did you scare him off that badly? the more you thought about it, the more you thought about becoming a hermit.

you'd thought you terrified him and ruined your friendship (and any future hope of a relationship) until flowers appeared on the counter of the bookstore. your assistant refused to let you know who they were from.

you bent down and eyed the pot of flowers sitting on the counter. they were your favorite color: pink. you had to admit, they were gorgeous. they looked well grown, as if these were from a master gardener. the flowers bloomed perfectly, each petal reaching out for the sun.

the message of the flowers also intrigued you. begonias are the flowers that symbolizes knowledge and deep thoughts. whoever gifted these to you must have been very observant or they wanted to be your intern.

"did someone come by asking to be my intern?" you stood up and put your hands on your hips. your lip twisted in thought. you were a bit preoccupied at the moment; the bookstore was getting exceptionally busy and (with your whole gepard crisis going on) you didn't think you were fit to be a mentor at the moment.

"no," your assistant shook her head. you leaned back on the counter, wondering why (and who) would gift you flowers on such a strange day. you already knew it wasn't gepard, due to the awkward tension surrounding the both of you right now, so you had a big list to narrow down.

"but," your assistant continued, "someone dropped off this letter with the flowers. they told me to give it to you after you saw the flowers," your assistant handed you the letter.

it was very formal, the letter. it's envelope was very extravagant, fit for someone with high standards. the stamp was still warm, meaning that this letter had been written recently. you tore open the envelope to reveal it's contents.

yn,

please do me the honor of accompanying me to everwinter cafe tonight. i would really appreciate seeing you there.

"g.l." you paused, "as in green lantern?!" you asked your assistant, wide eyes and all. "who is trying to cosplay as a superhero to talk to me? this is insane. did i owe someone a book or something? charged them extra?" you panicked.

your assistant frowned at your idiocy. who else could 'gl' entail to besides gepard landau? "what if it's the captain," your assistant urged on, nudging your shoulder.

"it couldn't be the captain," you jolted. does your assistant know? "we barely even talk," you try to reason.

"he comes in here nearly every day," your assistant counters, "if not every day, be it every other day," they sighed.

"he just comes in to look at books," you placed the flowers in a safe space in the shelves. "we don't converse as often as you think."

"you talk every day," you assistant drags on. "you're telling me that the two of you have no relations whatsoever?"

"we⎯it's complicated," you sighed, "long story short, it could never be the captain," you looked down at the plant. even if it was gepard, what was he doing? sending anonymous flowers? cryptic notes? why couldn't he just talk to you?

"you should go," your assistant encouraged, "you never know. it could be the captain or it could be another potential secret admirer."

"you think?" you raised an eyebrow. your assistant nodded in response.

you looked at the flowers one more time. though you wished it was gepard who sent them, you knew it was probably someone else trying to flatter you into taking them in as an intern. but as you stared at the begonias, no other thoughts beside gepard consumed your mind

it was late when you walked to everwinter cafe. tonight was not a particularly chilly night, but belobog's slight chill was ever present.

you walked around aimlessly, trying to walk slowly so you can prolong the sight of your "intern." you tried to focus on other things as you walked past, such as the plants and heaters surrounding the city. it's wondrous how things such as plants are still able to flourish in times like these.

as you viewed your surroundings, you saw a note placed on a lamppost close to the cafe. it read, "'i know you're working. i wanted to be somewhere...' safe? familiar? comfortable? 'near you.'

you automatically knew which book that quote was from. book lovers by emily henry. it was your favorite romance book; you've raved about it many times with gepard.

as you continued, you saw another note, "'if you saw yourself the way other people see you, you'd never doubt again.' 'how do people see me?' 'like you're the most beautiful, most remarkable, thing they've ever seen."

you must admit, you blushed a little bit while internally reading that. the only reason you blushed was that because you discussed that quote with gepard. you were talking about the 'twisted' series and how it had it's pros and cons with gepard, and this quote was one of the pros.

another read, "'who are they? the best part of my day.'"

another, "books she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives."

and the last, "'favorite word?' 'you.'"

you quickly noticed that these were all quotes from your favorite books. these are books you've only discussed and rambled about with one person: gepard. you'd never thought he would've actually read these books. let alone, you'd never thought gepard would also quote them.

with slightly more hope than before, you ran up to everwinter cafe.

"did you get my message?" gepard stood tall in front of you. you couldn't look into his eyes and it was killing him.

"your letter? yes, i did. and your flowers too. they were beautiful," you rocked back and forth on your heels.

"thank you, i grew them myself," he gave you a soft smile. you wanted to talk about how he managed to even grow such beautiful flowers, but how could you talk to him if you couldn't even look at him in the eyes? "but, did you get my message?"

you looked down at the many notes in your hand. it turns out gepard had left notes after all, "oh yes. i did," you blushed at the obvious context of the quotes. "all my favorite books."

"yeah," gepard spoke breathlessly, as if all of his air had run out after he started speaking to you, "but did you get my message?" he looked at your face for any type of indication: whether you liked him back, hated him, or had no strong feelings towards him. his eyes darted throughout your face, and the sight made you slightly flustered. he was leaning over you, and you thought you saw his eyes graze over your lips.

then it donned on you. the flowers. the letter. the sneaking out at night. the romantic context of all the quotes. the way all the quotes were from your favorite books that you've only talked about with him. the way gepard has admired and remembered every single thing about you. your stomach dropped as you realized gepard had been feeling the same things you have felt for him this entire time. your heart pounded in your chest as you finally met his eyes in the pale moonlight.

"yes," you swiftly exhaled. it was like all your hidden feelings for gepard were compacted in your chest, and when you finally breathed, they were all let out. it was like all your troubles were leaving you, "i did."

"and..." gepard trailed off, now failing to meet you in the eyes. he was terrified of your rejection; your opinion was one of the things that mattered most to him. before, he regarded it was his passion for the people, but now he recognizes that he was just passionate for you. "did you like it?"

"i loved it," you smiled; it wasn't just a soft smile this time, like the ones you've always given him. it was a big smile: loud and talkative, much like you. one smile could convey so much.

but you still had thoughts, "i didn't need all of this though," you grabbed his hand for reassurance. you were in range of his lips. you could close the gap right now.

gepard froze; your words and your touch made him tense. he was finally able to look you in the eye, having prepared himself for iminent rejection and was ready to leave. whatever you needed, he would do.

"what do you need?" gepard asked frantically. "whatever you need, i will give it to you. whether it be space or never seeing me again."

what you needed? you needed his thoughts, his opinions, his reassurance. you needed his touch on a cold night, you needed his arm around you when you were cold, you needed to feel him beside you on nights similar to this. you needed everything that he was.

"i need you," you whispered up on his lips. "right now."

and gepard swore the entirety of everwinter city heard his heart drop to the ground. he was sure that you could feel his heart pounding in his chest after you said those five words. only five words, yet gepard felt like he was going insane. he was going insane for you: your touch, your mind, your words, your entirety.

gepard removed his hand from yours for just one second, using it to tip your chin up so you could be in his view. in the pale moonlight, you were gorgeous. to be fair, you were always gorgeous, but something about tonight extenuated your beauty.

"can i⎯"

"don't even ask," you cut him off, leaning into him.

the kiss was soft and sweet at first. the feeling of your lips pressed onto his was heavenly: gepard felt ten times stronger with you than with anything else. it was gentle and tender.

but when you tugged your arms around his neck, all restraint went out the window.

gepard moved his hand from your chin to your waist, pulling you closer into him. it was bold for his first kiss, but who could blame him when you're holding onto to him so tightly?

you threaded your hands through his hair as he kissed you feverishly. his hands on your waist made you want to combust into him. you were standing on your toes at this point; if you tried to stand any taller, gepard was about to lift you up into the air.

when you finally stopped to breath, all that was left in the air was your love and the light from the sky.

"was i your first kiss?" you asked him coyly, arms still wrapped around his neck.

gepard blushed and you immediately knew his answer to your question. you stood up one more time to give him one more quick kiss.

yes, you were his first kiss. and gepard wished for more to come.

i need a week off after this fic i swear to god

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗)#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr #hsr x reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau #gepard hsr #gepard x you #gepard landau x you #tana answers: request ver #FINALS WEEK IS OVER I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO #gepard

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narumi-gens · 4 months

Text

The L Word

Miya Osamu x f!Reader

summary: Love makes people stupid. Osamu knows it firsthand.

warnings: minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, established relationship, love confessions, fluff with a teeny hint of angst, happy ending, small miscommunication bc Osamu is an idiot but it gets cleared up, Atsumu to the rescue, Osamu being the dumber Miya twin for a change, Osamu really goes through it in this fic but it's all okay bc you love him

notes: literally wrote this entire thing today bc Osamu just does something to me. this takes place earlier on in the Meet the Miyas couple's relationship and you don't have to read the other fics to get this one, but I sure would like you to.

words: 3.6k

part of the Meet the Miyas series

Osamu’s date with you was meant to be a quick dinner. If he was thinking more clearly, he wouldn’t have suggested seeing each other that night at all. It’s been a hectic week for the both of you and he knows that you have to catch an early morning train for a meeting out of town the next day.

But he can’t think clearly when it comes to you. Because he loves you. He doesn’t know when exactly it happened, but he knows it was probably after only a couple of dates, which he also knows is crazy.

Again, he can never think clearly when it comes to you.

It means that he’s spent the last few months in a love-induced haze of happiness as your budding relationship has progressed. It’s even been enough to dull the irritation he would normally feel at how smug Atsumu has been about being the one to set the two of you up in the first place.

Of course, none of that is on his mind now. The only thing he can currently think about is how much he doesn't want your evening together to end.

It’s a desire of his that you’re more than willing to indulge in as your time at the restaurant stretches on long past dessert. When he offers to walk you home even though you live in opposite directions, you don’t even bother to give a perfunctory protest. You merely nod with a wide grin, happily accepting the arm he wraps around your shoulders as you curl into his side.

And what began as a sweet kiss goodnight outside of your building is now bordering on something inappropriate for a public setting, even on an empty street.

Your soft lips move against his and his tongue slips into your mouth to taste you. One of your hands rests against his neck, while the other runs through his hair, making him shiver at the sensation of your fingernails gently running against his scalp. Both of his are tightly holding onto your waist, holding you as close as he possibly can so that the only thing separating you two is the clothing you both are wearing.

“Come upstairs,” you breathe as he begins to trail his lips from yours to the spot just below your ear that always has your knees feeling weak whenever he lavishes it with attention.

Unfortunately, Osamu has just enough of his sanity left to know what the responsible choice is.

“Ya need to sleep,” he murmurs against your skin before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck that makes you sharply inhale. “Yer meeting tomorrow is important. Gotta be well rested.”

“So thoughtful,” you tease as you guide his lips back to yours to give him another heated kiss, only to pause for air a moment later. “I promise. No funny business. We can just sleep.”

He can’t hold back his snort at your suggestion or his laugh when you pout at his reaction. He rests his forehead against yours, looking at you with a fond smile on his shining and slightly swollen lips.

“We never ‘just sleep’ when I come up,” he reminds you and your pout deepens.

“But I don’t want to say goodbye yet,” you tell him, and damn if his heart doesn’t ache with how full of love it is for you.

“Okay. We don’t have to say goodbye,” he agrees and your expression lights up. However, it falls as he continues to speak. “We’ll just say goodnight instead.”

“Osamu,” you whine and he presses a soft kiss to your lips before you can say anything else.

“Goodnight,” he says.

When you open your mouth again, he gives you another smiling kiss.

“Goodnight.”

You open your mouth again, a smile of your own tugging at your lips, which he kisses again.

He loves you.

“Goodnight.”

You playfully open your mouth as you pretend to say something. He kisses you.

He loves you.

“Goodnight.”

Another attempt on your part to protest. Another kiss to silence you.

He loves you.

“Goodnight.”

Your mouth opens. He gives you a kiss.

He loves you.

“I love you.”

He freezes, but not because he’s accidentally spoken the words that have been on his mind these past months.

It’s because the words don’t come out in his voice. They come out in yours.

His eyes snap open to find you gazing up at him with a small hint of nervousness, but otherwise nothing but pure affection and fondness and love. It’s everything he’s been dreaming of — literally. He has literally been dreaming about this exact scenario.

But in his dreams, he gently murmurs that he loves you in return and softly runs his thumb along the apple of your cheek. The two of you then kiss beneath the first soft snowflakes of winter or the floating spring cherry blossoms or a drizzle of summer rain.

Reality is much worse. Because in his shock and disbelief, all he can do is open and close his mouth, struggling to put all of his joy and excitement and love in return into words. And the longer the silence stretches on, the touch of hesitation that was initially present on your face slowly begins to morph into sheer horror.

Your embarrassment is visible at his lack of a response and when you force out a small, self-conscious laugh, he knows that you’re regretting ever speaking those three beautiful words aloud.

“Sorry,” you wince and a cold shard of ice pierces his heart.

No, no, no. Don’t apologize. Never apologize. Not for loving him. Not when he loves you, too.

You clumsily try to extricate yourself from his hold and he’s too wrapped up in his own mortification over how stupid he is that he easily lets you.

“I don’t…s-sorry!”

Your voice breaks as you stumble over your unnecessary apology and even while you refuse to meet his gaze, he can see how quickly your eyelashes are fluttering as you try to blink back the tears that he’s caused.

“Night, Osamu,” you manage to say through a soft sniffle before hurrying towards the steps of your building.

The only thing worse than the panic and anger that he’s feeling towards himself is whatever it is that you’re feeling. You opened yourself up to him, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and trusting that he would keep your heart safe.

And he was too much of an idiot to be able to offer his own heart in return.

He just needs to get the words out. Just get the words out.

Just get the fuckin’ words out, ya big fuckin’ pussy.

Relief floods through his veins when he’s finally able to blurt your name as he calls after you. He can fix this. He can tell you that he loves you and that he was just so elated that he was physically incapable of putting any words together.

You stop, your foot on the bottom step as you turn towards him. While your eyes are shining with tears, he can also the hope in them as you silently plead with him to continue.

A deep breath releases from his lungs. He hasn’t ruined it yet. You’re willing to listen to him. You’ll give him a chance to make things right and prove to you that he deserves you. He’s so fucking grateful to you.

“Thank you!”

He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Maybe a car will pass by and run him over. Could he be lucky enough for a freak thunderstorm and to be struck by lightning? When nothing happens, he contemplates dropping to his knees and banging his head repeatedly against the concrete sidewalk.

All of it would feel better than watching how quickly he’s shattered the last remaining pieces of hope that you were desperately clinging onto. You stay still just long enough for him to see your lower lip tremble before you dart up the stairs of your building.

And because of how the stupid apartment buildings in this country are designed, he gets a perfect view of you racing up the exterior staircase and then towards your apartment, pausing only to unlock the door, which then slams loudly shut behind you. The sound echoes through the quiet street, reverberating against the pavement and buildings, but also in his mind.

Osamu takes a slow, deep breath and holds it before exhaling. He then buries his face his hands, his fingers tugging at his hair, and lets out an unintelligible scream that’s filled with a nauseating mixture of frustration and embarrassment. The noise is louder than the slamming of your door and a dog starts to bark in the distance.

In a daze, he somehow manages to make it to his bus stop. Likewise, his phone is now somehow held up against his ear. And somehow, Atsumu’s screeching voice answers on the other end.

“Thank you?” he greets angrily and Osamu loudly groans as he slumps forward so far that his head is practically between his knees. “My best friend, the woman yer totally in love with, says she loves ya and all ya can do is thank her?”

“I was just so excited, I couldn’t think straight. I’m a fuckin’ idiot. I know, okay?” he mumbles. He hears a bus pull up to the curb but he’s too distraught to even look up and see if it’s his as he lets it pass. “She already told ya?”

“She’s on the other fuckin’ line right now, crying because of you, ya scrub,” Atsumu bites back and somehow, after everything that’s happened in the past ten minutes, Osamu manages to feel even worse.

There’s a long pause and his guilt and mortification must be so bad that his brother can hear it through the phone because Atsumu gives a sigh of pity.

“Look, just make it right. We share the same DNA. Ya must have gotten a little bit of my ability to be romantic.”

In any other situation, Osamu would scoff and roll his eyes. But right now, he doesn’t have the right to make fun of anyone, not even his twin. Instead, he simply nods even though Atsumu can’t see it over the call.

“Can ya find out what time her train gets in tomorrow?” he asks pitifully.

“Okay, sure,” the setter offers before sighing again. “I gotta go.”

“Yeah, don’t keep her waitin’.”

He wonders if you know that it’s him Atsumu is talking to. You must. But Atsumu is a pretty good liar, much better than Osamu anyway. He’s had plenty of practice lying over every little thing under the sun since they were young. Surely, he can convince you that it was a teammate or his agent or anyone else but the man responsible for your distress.

“Same goes for you, Samu,” Atsumu warns him, but there’s at least a gentle undertone of sympathy in his voice that he probably only extends because they shared a womb.

“Thanks,” he says, feeling truly grateful to his brother in a way he hasn’t felt since he set the two of you up.

“I think ya said that enough tonight, ya scrub.” Atsumu then ends the call and Osamu’s gratitude dwindles.

But Atsumu does come through for him, texting him the information on your train, which Osamu reacts to with a mere thumbs up, knowing that any form of thanks will have him being called a scrub for the third time that night.

The next day, Osamu closes the shop early. It’s for the better as he keeps getting orders wrong and has to offer so many discounts in apology that if he stayed open any later, he would probably end the day at a loss.

His mind has been so preoccupied that there’s no room left in it for onigiri. All he’s been able to think about is his plan to make it up to you. He’ll go home and change into his nicest suit. He’ll go to the florist and buy the nicest bouquet they have. He’ll stop by the bakery near your apartment on the way and order a slice of your favorite cake.

And then you’ll come home to find him waiting for you outside of your building, where he’ll give you the speech he spent all day on. He’ll tell you how sorry he is and explain how much of an idiot he was and tell you that of course, he loves you. He’s even written down exactly what he wants to say on an order sheet from the restaurant so he doesn’t forget a word.

But apparently, the universe has decided that it wants to laugh even more at his expense.

Everything starts smoothly. Despite not having worn it in over a year, his suit fits as perfectly as it did when he bought it. And after a quick iron, it looks like he just picked it up from the dry cleaner. When he arrives at the flower shop, the kindly older woman working there helps him make a custom bouquet filled with flowers that all represent some form of love and apology.

It’s at the bakery where things start to go wrong.

First, it’s so late in the afternoon that the display window is picked clean over. Your favorite cake has sold out entirely and all that’s left are a variety of croissants, donuts, and croquettes. He stupidly decides to buy a donut anyway, because although the image of him giving you a donut is much less romantic, he’s always believed that food is the best way to show you care about someone.

Then, just as he’s finished paying and in his rush to make sure he gets to your apartment before you do, he runs right into a teenager holding a bright green melon soda, which spills all over the front of his clean, white dress shirt. The girl gasps in horror and immediately begins to apologize, repeatedly bowing as she offers him the napkins in her hand.

However, he knows it was his fault and that he can’t make another girl cry in less than 24 hours. He assures her that she wasn’t to blame and after patting his shirt dry to the best of his ability, he buys her a new drink and then helps the employee clean up the spill. He leaves the bakery with a squished donut and an obscenely green, large stain on his shirt.

And of course, he gets one block away from the bakery when it starts to rain. It’s not the soft, romantic drizzle that he’s imagined might color such an important moment in your relationship. It’s a true downpour that has people ducking into stores and under doorways. For just a moment, he considers stopping at a konbini and buying an umbrella but he’s already drenched and when he sees how long the line is, he decides that it wouldn’t be worth it if he has to miss you.

It’s another block away from the konbini that the bag holding the donut breaks, dropping the baked good into the gutter where it’s quickly washed away by the rainwater. As he looks at the soggy remains of the bag in his hand, he decides not to worry about it and shoves the mess into his pocket. The flowers are enough on his own.

The flowers, which he’s just now realizing aren’t in his hand and weren’t with him at the bakery. The flowers that he remembers setting down on the bench at the bus stop but doesn’t remember picking back up when he got onto the bus.

The voice in his head is frantic as it tries to assure him that everything is fine. If you really love him then you don’t need flowers or baked goods or him in a dry, unstained suit. You’ll love him just as he is when you find him waiting to greet you after a long day.

He’s thankful that the sound of rain falling is loud enough to mask the panicked, high-pitched whine he lets out when he turns the corner onto your block to find that you’ve beaten him to your place and are already standing on the bottom step of your building’s staircase, protected from the rain as you shake the worst of the water from your dripping umbrella.

There’s the smallest part of him that wants to just go back home and hide beneath the blankets like he used to do after losing a volleyball match.

But then, without his consent, your name leaves his lips and his feet begin moving on their own to meet you. You freeze mid-umbrella shake and look up at him in shock, clearly not having expected him, and definitely not in this state if the way your eyes widen is anything to go by.

Your senses come back to you quicker than his did to him last night and you open your umbrella back up and rush out to meet him, hurrying to finally protect him from the rain.

“Osamu, what are you doing? It’s pouring,” you say with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. You look him over from head to toe and frown. “Why are you so green? You look like you spilled a melon soda all over your shirt.”

It’s okay. He still has his speech. He’ll win you over with his words. Whether it was volleyball or opening his own restaurant, when has he ever given up?

Instead of answering you, he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out the order slip. He’s relieved that it’s held up better than the bakery bag and vows to keep buying order pads from the same supplier for the rest of his life.

At least until he unfolds the paper and finds that the ink he wrote in has run because of the rain that soaked through his jacket. His shoulders sag as he sighs in defeat.

“Osamu?” you ask with a timidness he hasn’t heard from you before and it’s enough to snap him from his own wallowing. His idiocy left you in tears last night.

The flowers, the suit, the pastry, the speech, this entire big, grand gesture he was trying to make all boil down to one thing.

“I love ya,” he says and it feels so good to finally be able to say the words aloud to you for the first time. It feels like a weight has been lifted from his chest, leaving room for how big his heart has grown with all the love it holds for you. “I’m so sorry about last night. I’ve been in love with ya since, like, our third date but I knew I’d seem crazy if I said it that early. And when ya said it first, I just couldn’t believe it and I was so stupidly happy that I just couldn’t say anything.”

Now that he’s started talking, the words won’t seem to stop. But from the way you’re looking up at him with so much warmth and affection and love, he doesn’t think you want him to.

“And then I started to panic because I couldn’t say anything, which made it harder to say anything else. So, I came up with this big plan to win ya back with flowers and cake and a big speech but literally everything went wrong.”

“Osamu,” you try to gently interrupt him, but by this point, he couldn’t hold anything in even if he wanted to.

“I forget yer flowers at the bus stop and the bakery was out of cake. Then I almost made this teenager cry so I had to make that right. And of course, this fuckin’ monsoon had to sweep in outta nowhere. And my speech got all ruined, too,” he complains, holding out the order sheet for you to see the proof.

“Osamu,” you try again. Only he’s too wrapped up now in this bizarre, stream-of-consciousness monologue to even take in the adoring way that you’re looking at him.

“If it was gonna rain, couldn’t it at least have been a soft, romantic type of rain? But I guess nothing says romance like a flash flood warning. It’s a good thing ya live on a higher floor with how much it’s comin’ down,” he continues. “All this little love confession is missing are some warning sirens—”

“You love me?”

The question finally shuts him up. But it’s a different kind of silence than the one from last night. Because you look so utterly happy as the three words occupy the space between you. His own expression softens and he crumples up the paper in his hand before shoving it into his pocket.

His hand now free, he tenderly cups your face and presses the softest, sweetest kiss to your lips as the rain continues to come down in sheets around you, only your small travel-size umbrella keeping you both safe.

As his lips part from yours, he rests his forehead on yours, an almost mirror image how you two were wrapped up in each other last night.

“Yeah, I love ya,” he whispers as he affectionately brushes his nose against yours. You smile back at him and his heart pounds with excitement at hearing you repeat the sentiment back to him.

But then, your eyes begin to sparkle mischievously as they always do when you tease him.

“Thank you,” you say and he thinks he’s somehow managed to fall even further in love with you.

#miya osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu fic #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #miya osamu fluff #osamu fluff #mel writes #meet the miyas #the l word

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onlyseokmins · 1 year

Text

needy • j.w.w.

Pairing: jeon wonwoo x afab!reader

Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship!au

Warnings: swearing, teasing, dirty talk, unrealistic amt of orgasms heh, male masturbation, mentions of car sex, fingering (fem. receiving), phone sex but not like you think, messy oral (fem. receiving), safe sex 🫡, wonu's a bit of a perv tbh and reader loves puts up w/ it, mentions of children but not like really lmao, mentions of (cock)roaches, wonu in glasses and needy = double kill imho, ft. some of the boys being intrusive tbh haha, POSSESSION, and a good amt of noisy sex hahah lmk if i missed anything!

WC: 4.9k

A/N: well it's finally my first wonu fic :3 after hoarding so many in the drafts bc I always feel like I can't write him too well, I had to take the plunge since it's a dear request from my lovely @wonuhour ❤️ I really hope you enjoy this 🤞🏼 no taglist as this is a request so I hope y'all read this but sending some love to my fav wonwoorideul @wonwussy bc she said I could tag her mwah. I think I held my head 5 times while editing this haha...

It's late when you step out into the night's cool air, a sigh of relief at finally being freed from the corporate building where you work. Pulling out your phone from the bag slung across your shoulder, your face lights up just like the screen when you focus on two distinct notifications on it.

1 missed call — hubby ♡

1 new voicemail — hubby ♡

"Hey, baby. You're probably dealing with those idiots right now but by the time you're listening to this, you should be on your way back home to me."

Wonwoo's deep voice is always so soothing, filling your body with inexplicably warm, fuzzy feelings that trail from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. The knowledge that he pays attention to even the minute details you think he might not care about in trivial, daily conversations or complaints makes your heart flutter with joy.

Your husband has always had that effect on you. He's aware you aren't able to pick up and it's not like he expects you to do so. Wonwoo simply leaves a voice message, knowing it will provide you comfort on your walk to the car and subsequent drive home until you can seek real solace in his embrace.

And maybe — just maybe — he calls to simply hear your pretty voice that plays on the answering machine because he misses you during your long shift. The embarrassed giggle when you mess up and stumble across your words during the recording. Never bothering to go back to change or fix it because it makes the corners of Wonwoo's mouth perk up, breaking his usual stoic expression. At least according to what Mingyu's let slip.

Which is hilarious in and of itself because your husband is anything but poker face when in your presence. His friends tease, saying he's become a different man because of you — following you around and acting like a lovesick puppy rather than his normal, self-acclaimed dignified cat persona. But you deny it. He's always been the same person with you and maybe that's just because you're meant to be.

"Be safe on your way home. Remember to lock the doors when you're inside, although I know you will 'cause how many times have you accidentally locked me out when you've beat me back to the car first?" He lets out a strangely breathy laugh, one that you mimic in fondness at the past memory and simply of him, doing exactly as he says as you shut the driver seat's door. "Miss you so, so much today. Even more than usual, baby. 'specially that sweet pussy of yours."

Nothing — not even Mingyu's weird trait of being privy and somehow knowing or aware of way too much in your relationship — could have prepared you for those words. You're extremely grateful you're inside your car right now. Not fearing other people overhearing but because you would've collapsed right on the sidewalk in public. Victim to your husband's seductive desperation.

"Can't stop thinking 'bout it. How pretty it looks, how good you taste, how perfect you always feel wrapped around me."

Your head falls back against the headrest, the hand holding your phone drops onto your thigh, and your mouth and eyes widen together in awe. The wireless buds fit snugly inside your ears allow you to pick up on the underlying slick sounds as he speaks. Your mouth waters, a sweep of electrifying energy causing the hairs on your arms to raise.

Fuck. He's stroking that gorgeous thick cock of his. Because he yearns so much for you.

"'round my fingers, my dick, my tongue… so soft and wet and tight… mhm, oh god — what a messy little thing. And your lips too, wanna kiss you so bad. For hours, non-stop."

People like to make assumptions about your relationship. Things like how Wonwoo must be the calm and collected one, the domineering and composed person within your dynamics. It's annoying but you can't really blame them — it's human nature after all. While they aren't entirely wrong, it's not like they're right either.

On the occasions when your husband's lust for you outweighs his level-headedness, he loses all reason. Not above begging, whining, or babbling nonsense, his neediness becomes next level. You're so caught up in thinking about the exact man you're supposed to be listening to, you realize you've nearly missed most of the words he's spouting in his gravelly voice. You rewind the playback.

"… to stop thinkin' 'bout it or I'll want you even more. Wanna ruin you. Destroy you. Worship you. Ah… you're in your car, aren't you love? Please tell me you are, 'member when I slipped a finger inside last week on our way home from the mall? Then two. Then three. Had to make sure my pretty baby's pussy was stuffed nice and full. It's what you deserve, after all."

His lazy drawl and filthy words make your thighs clench. He knows it too. "Bet you're squeezing those luscious legs of yours together… ah, what I wouldn't give to have them around me instead…" A laugh again, almost a wheeze, like the air's being sucked out of his lungs at the thought. Many thoughts. "Made such a mess that day… hngh, almost wrecked the car over how wrecked you were, baby."

You glance at the empty passenger seat out of the corner of your eye. Almost shamefully, like a curious nun side-eyes a sinner sitting in church. Wonwoo's skillful and long, bony fingers buried inside your cunt — to no surprise — had you a writhing mess, an insane orgasm ripped from your body. You were afraid the upholstery was ruined because of it, the car still smelling like sex and preventing you from offering your sulky neighbor Seungcheol a lift this week.

"Bastard," you mutter affectionately and roll your eyes at your next statement, pretending as if he can hear you. "Like you weren't just as wrecked that I had to suck you off as soon as we parked and then rushed inside since you didn't wanna cum in my mouth."

"Ahhhhh, shoot…!"

As if he can hear your words, a particularly loud moan followed by a string of curses falls out of your husband's mouth. You are just able to hear the sped up sounds of him rutting more urgently against his palm. The visual of his large hands looking much smaller when wrapped around his huge cock floods your mind, wondering if he's tightened his grasp to better resemble it to drilling deep inside of your warmth instead of his hand. Eyebrows creasing together, biting down on his bottom lip before his mouth opens again in another moan that fills your ears at the right time.

The familiar creak of his home office chair causes a devious smirk to grace your face. He hasn't realized in his lust-driven state that he'd given away how desperate he really was to be fucking into his fist between freelance projects. More than likely frustrated when something wasn't encoding right after hours of staring at the screen but it was most probable that Wonwoo was simply down bad.

Achingly missing his partner when you weren't around to rub his shoulders, bring him some tea, lighten up the mood with a bad joke, or even try and help point out a possible error with a fresh set of eyes. Even nicer, sit on his lap all pretty to keep his cock all warm and coated in wetness or get on your knees beneath his desk and try to keep quiet while you take him down your throat.

You were always a bit on the noisy side. Even now, you can't help but let out a whimper at how uncomfortable your nipples feel poking against your bra. Dampening your panties, poor clit already puffy and throbbing unstimulated.

The Wonwoo in your imagination has his head thrown back, throat presented prettily that you wish you could actually mark up. In-tune with what he sounds like when he's about to come undone, you listen intently to your husband's stifled groans and harsh pants in anticipation. Holding your breath, hoping he's so lost in bliss that he won't leave you hanging.

Like a lifeline, a muttered "fuck, baby," as if he's really right there with you in the car as his deep moan fills your ears just like it does in-person. Imaginary Wonwoo drops his head back down and the hungry look in his dark brown eyes causes your hips to involuntarily twitch, thighs trembling. Shockingly, you don't orgasm from that alone but you sure as hell were on the brink of doing so.

For a finale, your husband stays on the line while he catches his breath and your dirty mind wanders once more. Hard not to when you hear the wet sounds of his hand still rubbing his cock. A whimper of "hm, just like that," and a hiss because he's sensitive makes your head spin, cunt clenching sadly around nothing. A sob practically leaves your chest at the absolute want to milk him dry just as he wishes at that moment.

"Miss you so much. Need to eat out my precious baby. Mhm, I just know that sopping cunt is begging for me to lick it up…"

The scratch of tissues being pulled out of their holder is enough of an attempt to tug you out of the foggy cloud of lust. You lick your lips.

"… so come and hurry home safely, love."

You do — so close to cumming untouched — but you stave off the feeling, speeding home somehow without crashing. For all your car has put up with, you're honestly surprised it hasn't given out on you in revenge. But that's neither here nor there at the moment, stumbling out of the vehicle once you arrive home and scrambling faster than a marathon-runner to get inside.

It would be a lie to say you weren't disappointed with how quiet and dark it is. Quietly setting your bag down, you stand with your back pressed against the front door. Almost expecting your husband to appear out of the shadows and pounce on you.

It's happened before. You can proudly declare with your whole chest that you've fucked on every surface of this lovely little house purchased in the third year of your marriage.

Instead, something brushes against your leg and you bend down to pick up your daughter. She hangs pliantly as you gently wiggle her and whisper, "Where's your daddy?"

The cat replies with a plaintive meow. You smile when she twitches her tail, stalking off towards the direction of the living room. Wonwoo likes to teasingly say she takes after you with a distinct cat-titude despite the fact that he naturally happens to be the more dedicated caretaker between the two of you. Mingyu was always needlessly curious which one of you another cat would take after — or worse, if you had actual children.

That wouldn't happen for quite a bit, trailing behind the true ruler of the household and watching as she climbs up onto her expensive cat-tree to sulk. Wonwoo must not have given her enough attention today. Demonstrated by the angry way she squints toward the open doorway of the study illuminated by the blue glow of your husband's computer.

"Daddy's in rare form today," you try and explain, rubbing in between her ears and she purrs in response. "Don't worry, Mommy will go and fix him so he ultra dotes on you like the little princess he thinks you are."

You make a kissy face in her direction because she is a precious royalty. Then you're approaching the study where deep grunts and muttered curses can be heard among a furious clacking of keyboard keys.

"On your left — no, Mingyu… your other left!"

Crossing your arms, you pout. You'd be lying if gamer Wonwoo wasn't unfairly attractive — jawline clenched as he barks out orders into his headset, the computer screen graphics reflecting off his glasses. A stark contrast to the ratty hoodie and old man slippers he's wearing, angrily slapping his feet on the ground when Seokmin accidentally pressed the wrong button and self-destructs.

You're glad he's blowing off some steam and stress with the boys. Though you had once asked why he didn't bother watching porn on his expensive and impressive set-up. Flattered when he admitted that having you as the real deal beat anything he could ever try to search for.

Now you're not as sure, though. He seems rather content and preoccupied after working you all up with that damn voicemail of his. With a flounce, you turn to head to the shower as your husband rages over Chan mistakenly shooting at the wrong team. Meeting a feline gaze on the way to the bathroom that shares your same sentiment of disdain.

Sticky, ruined panties cause a glare and another pout to adorn your face once the water is turned on to heat up. One Wonwoo might find cute. If he could see it. You nearly jump out of your skin when there's a knock on the door, so soft it almost sounds like a bump.

A certain kitty often bangs against doors just to startle her owners but she's also good at opening them too. When it remains shut and you hear a low call of your name rather than spooky silence, a pleading meow, or it flying open, you let out a breath of relief. Trying not to appear too eager, you crack the door open just enough to narrow one eye at your husband.

"Hi, baby."

"Hey."

Long gone is his cozy hoodie, though his black sweatpants remain on. Displaying lean, upper body muscles to ogle and pert nipples that could poke you in the eyeball with how near he is. Pushing up his glasses, he raises his eyebrows when you don't make an effort to move.

"You don't normally knock."

"I wasn't sure if it was you or our little mischief maker in here."

"Uh-huh, and who says I'm not mischievous as well?" You turn around but leave the door ajar and he takes that as an invitation to come in.

"No one's ever said you weren't," Wonwoo reassures but frowns, "no welcome home kiss?"

"You know, little miss mischief maker seemed pretty miffed, did daddy not pay enough attention to her today? That's unlike you."

"Mhm, was busier than I thought today. Had a lot on my mind… work and all that. Absolutely drowning in it."

"Is that so? She seems pretty upset so be sure you make it up to her."

It's like a cat-and-mouse game, though who's who is really the question. Maybe you're both cats in a stand-off. You know Wonwoo would never not truly attend to your beloved pet. You fight back a smirk, able to feel his heated gaze trail down your back and focus on your ass that you jut out on purpose to check the water temperature. A rush of fresh arousal surges through your system.

"Yeah?" Your husband's hand shoots out past yours to turn the shower off, ignoring your protest. "I think I upset another kitten too." Spinning you around so his damp thumb can pull at your bottom lip as you flutter your eyelashes at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not a cat. And I'm most certainly not upset."

He pecks at your lips almost condescendingly. "Sure, baby. You shouldn't be, you know, with the nice present I left for your pleasure after work."

You let out an elated sigh as he holds your face still and peppers kisses all over, trailing down to focus on your neck so you can speak. "If that's your idea of a nice gift, I'd hate to see what a bad one is."

"You didn't like it?" Somehow Wonwoo's eyes manage to sparkle when he looks up at you with a whine, pausing his kisses down the valley between your breasts. His other hand sneakily reaches in between your legs and he smiles against your skin. "Or did you like it too much? Don't think I've ever gotten you a bad gift, baby."

Slender fingers play with your messy wetness, sliding back and forth languidly without rush. You struggle to clear your mind to ask with sarcasm, "Wh-what about that st-stupid cockroach plushie?"

"It was cute. Just like you."

"That's it, I'm getting a shower."

"I don't think so." Wonwoo's free hand flies to splay out on your back, preventing you from moving and pressing your body even closer to his.

You purse your lips, brown eyes locking in on them immediately. "You think I'm on the same level as cockroaches."

"Only like the super cute, not-real ones."

"…We're filing for divorce right after I clean up."

"Mhm, but I'm not done with you yet so it'd be a waste of water. Besides, you hate showering together."

You can't help but grind down against his stationary palm, wishing he'd just slip a finger inside. "Because… no one's getting clean… if you're in there with me."

"Exactly," he's entranced by how much of your arousal continues to coat his hand. Cock twitching with the ache to be where his fingers are instead. "You know the drill, baby. Besides, I'm aware of how much you like it when I'm wearing my glasses."

"Wonwoo…"

He hushes your moan with a smirk and another kiss to your irresistible lips. "Yeah, lovely. It's okay, I'll give you what you want. And what I want too."

Surely, you would've bashed your head open on the tile floors had it not been for the support of the countertop you'd braced your palm on. Legs as shaky as a newborn fawn with how long you've been buzzing with desire. Especially when your husband backs away to withdraw his hand, ravenously slurping up your essence with a blissed out face. An appreciative, low grunt as he licked his fingers clean, dark gaze not straying away from your naked body before him.

"Shouldn't have done the laundry, silly baby. How else am I supposed to control myself without any sort of relief to get me through the day?"

Your jaw drops. "Pervert!"

"Know you like it." He ignores the light slap to his shoulder that bears no malice, finding zero resistance when he tugs you by the hand to drag you into the bedroom. "You love when I'm this desperate for you. Can't get anything done, can't think of anything else… all you, you, and you. And this greedy pussy."

Your back's resting on the mattress before you can blink. Wonwoo sits and parts your legs, taking in the delectable sight of your puffy cunt that spreads open to seep more arousal. Asking to be taken care of and filled.

"Just look at it, how could I not desire it every moment of the day?" A kiss is pressed against your left ankle. "When it's just as perfect as you?" Another to the side of your knee cap. "And so fuckin' addictive." He switches to the right to suck the skin on your thigh. "Absoluting begging to be filled up so prettily whenever I want."

It's a mix between a scream and groan of frustration that leaves your throat when your husband lightly smooches right above your hip crease before licking the salt off your skin. He's so close to where you want him and he grins at your patient façade slowly slipping. His tongue pokes out, just grazing the left side of your pussy.

"Wonwoo…!"

He is rarely this talkative, either he truly missed you or this is a new form of torture.

A pointer finger taps your pubic bone and drags downward, lifting away before it hits your clit. "And all mine," he growls out before devouring your cunt like you want.

Your husband eats you out like a starved man. Ravenous in all the best ways. Your hips can't help but jerk in time with the movements of his tongue lapping at your inner walls and cleaning up the gracious amounts of slick you've created. Whines leaving your mouth at how good it feels, fingers anxiously threading through his curls and making them even messier. Your legs wrap around his neck as you somehow bring his head even closer to drown inside your scent, your taste, and your wet heat.

Wonwoo revels in it.

Normally, he would have more control. More strictness, more fortitude. But he's so far gone, appreciative growls that could rival the best-selling vibrator on the market shake you to your very core. The frames of his glasses dig into your thighs but you don't even feel them with the intense amount of pleasure from Wonwoo's thumb playing with your clit. His nose occasionally adds to the mind-dumbing feeling by nuzzling against it when he shakes his head with vigor.

You have no choice but to hurdle towards a fast orgasm like a dam breaking. Unintentionally locking his neck in a position that might've snapped it if his face wasn't pressed so close and into your spasming hole. Screaming his name as you tear at hair strands a bit too viciously. Wonwoo takes it all in stride, too obsessed with prolonging that delightful peak of yours to care.

Only when your legs loosen up does he back away, pride filling his chest as he takes in your shaking form. Pushing up foggy lenses, he licks his lips slowly. The damp spot shining on his chin and nose is enough of a damning visual — one that's real and touchable, not of your imagination this time — for a tiny tremor to run through your thighs again.

Wonwoo's sore jaw drops. "Baby, did you… did you just cum again?" The cool air away from your cunt clears his vision so he can marvel at the soiled wet patch on your shared blankets. A mumbled curse leaves his mouth.

You're a vision. Strewn across the bed, skin shining with sweat while your disheveled husband is the epitome of sex. He cracks his neck, stretching his jaw.

Thinking.

Contemplating.

"Just from that? Hah, what am I going to do with you?"

"Fuck me," you moan and bring your legs that feel like Jello up to your chest. Squeezing your breasts between your thighs, you pout at him and flutter your lashes. A perfect look for a vixen, pleading yet sultry. "Please."

"Shit… can't tell if you're being bad or good. Augh, the things you do to me."

"'m good, s'good for you. Want you s'bad."

Blabbering, you watch through bleary eyes at the rapid speed he tears off his sweatpants and manage to spread your legs even farther with how numb they feel when he climbs over top of you. Lenses flash in the light at the same time as a foil wrapper before he rips it, hissing in sensitivity to slide the condom on. You're thrilled when the heavy tip of his cock slaps against your prepped pussy, ready for him to lose all rationale. You're sorely disappointed to find out your husband has a pending question for you.

"Then why didn't you greet me when you came home? Hm? Pretty baby sulking in the bathroom 'cause I was gaming with the boys?"

"Ahhh…" you shake your head urgently, nails lightly scratching his biceps, and hips lifting off the bed in a sly effort to slip his dick inside. "No…"

Wonwoo clicks his tongue, halting your movements. "No? I need complete answers, love."

You need him to lose control. Fighting back a sob, you try to shake off your fucked-out state and reply to him properly. "Wanted to shower 'nd then come in no panties, sit… on your lap."

"Yeah? Pretty baby was gonna keep me nice and warm in that snug pussy? Like we always do?"

"Mhm," tears are streaming down your cheeks at this point, "maybe… maybe suck you off."

"Oh, wanted to choke on my cock so all those losers could hear those greedy gags of yours?"

All you can do is nod deliriously because his thick length is hot and hard. Laying outside your lower stomach exactly like it would if it was buried within you.

Wonwoo snarls. "I think the fuck not. Absolutely not. Only I'm allowed to hear your pretty noises. Only me." He huffs, easing the tip inside finally, grunting at how you're already clamping around him like a vice. "You're made for me. All mine. No one else."

The last three syllables are punctuated by experimental, shallow thrusts to open you up for him. Your tongues tangle together as he continues to rock his hips forward, splitting you open until your pelvises kiss.

"That's it, baby. That's the sweet cunt I've been waiting for all day, dreaming of. There it is, shit! Whose pussy does this belong to?"

"Yours… hgnh, all yours… yours, yours yours…!"

"That's right, that's fuckin' right."

His glasses slide down the bridge of his nose but are pushed up by your own nose when you pull him by the neck to shut him up. Barely kissing anymore, it's an open-mouthed entanglement of debauchery. Neither of your moans get any quieter, especially when he rasps in your ear to make as much noise as possible because no one's around to listen.

Wonwoo's thrusts are sharp when he does pull out a little bit. But he doesn't want to leave your warmth for even one moment, mainly grinding as deep as he can into your fluttering hole and stimulating your clit. His hands tug at your nipples, alternating between squishing and squeezing at your tender breasts. Your legs splay compliantly out at the side, letting your husband use you to his content because that's what both of your goals tonight were.

You're shamelessly screaming when his tip touches that bundle of nerves and you're afraid you might actually black out when he continues to hit it with scary precision.

"Gonna… be the death… of me."

Peering at you over his glasses, he smirks at your weak complaint. "Says the one… that's gonna snap off my dick… shit, lovey, stop tightening up so much!"

"Can't help it, feels so good."

"I know, baby," he pants out and kisses your cheek, "I know so just bare with me a bit more." Relief floods him momentarily when your gummy walls loosen their iron grip around his cock. "That's it."

Pulling out of your squelching pussy before you can clamp around him again with only the head wrapped around so prettily by your puffy lips, he has to pause to admire it. Then he slams inside so deep that you can't help but hit that intense climax while he's still stuffing the rest of his length back in.

He coos in his low voice, coaxing you through it with an almost cruel swivel of his hips. "You can give me one more, right? I know you can, you're so good for me."

You really don't know if you could but the minute you lock eyes with him, the feral need and want in them that takes your breath away is enough. It's tinier than all the ones prior but it pleases a fucked out Wonwoo. In seconds, he's spilling his seed into the condom, still nestled within your spasming walls.

"There it is, cream on my cock, love. Yeah, there we go… fuck, baby..." he pants, a telltale sign, "that's it... so perfect."

To say you're exhausted would be an understatement. You might've actually passed out because when you come to, your husband has already wiped you down and pulled the blankets over your naked body. You weren't cold at all before but now that the tidal wave of lust has ebbed away, a chill is settling in. Your cat has snuck into the bedroom too, curled up and purring at the end of the bed on top of the stuffed cockroach plushie.

"Wonwoo?"

"Right here, love." He's laying on top of the covers and wearing his sweats again. His glasses are on the nightstand, head propped up on one hand to stare affectionately at you. "Feel okay?"

"Yeah but I'm glad I'm off for the rest of the week. You fucked the life out of me."

A smug grin graces his face. "Yeah I know. Which is why I don't understand why you just didn't wait to do laundry tomorrow or something."

"Not this again. How old are you?"

"Old enough to know what will prevent me from blowing out your back all the time." He's ready to continue with a good defense but pauses at the smile you're trying to hide. "Wait… did you do that on purpose?" When you don't reply, he groans your name. "You did, didn't you?"

"We all have our little tricks," a finger traces down his exposed pecs, "although I didn't expect such a needy voicemail on my way home, it turned out just as planned."

He halts your wrist when you start journeying down his abs. "Not in front of the child, please."

"I'm too tired to do anything scandalous," you laugh and flip your aching body over to the other side. "Wake me up in a half hour so I can shower. Alone."

"I can't believe I was set up." Disbelief drips from his tone as he sets a timer on his phone but he reaches over you to turn off the light, pressing a kiss to your ear. "Well-played though. You have a lot of free time to make up for your misbehavior, don't you baby?"

"Mhm-hm."

Wonwoo can't see the second victorious smile hidden in the darkness. Really. You're just too smart, knowing your husband so well to get what you want.

Mingyu would be proud. And grossed out.

onlyseokmins: February 2023 ©

#ez.creates #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #Smut #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo smut #Svthub #luana 🌙#ez.mootz #I misspelled my url in the header at first it was so funny 💀 onlyseokins #1k 🌟#svt.smut

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dearhargrove · 1 month

Text

Reassurance

summary You comfort Evan after he has to deal with his parents over the course of four days.

word count 730

tags fluff, just someone being there for my bb buck, short and sweet

a/n So basically I was watching the Buck Begins episode and died every minute where his parents neglected him and generally every second of that episode :( so expect some more Buck fics to come (Eddie too tho !!)

masterlist

You didn't know but you were probably the sole reason Buck wasn't completely breaking down every day he wakes up and has to deal with the two people that call themselves his parents.

After the first dinner he had felt bad, but he'd felt like he usually does with them. Alone, unwanted and never enough. That day he'd come home to you, quiet and dull.

You hadn't made him talk about it when he didn't start explaining himself, instead you simply wrapped your arms around him and held him close. That's when he'd felt loved. That night he waited until you had fallen asleep before letting himself cry.

What did he expect? For some reason he had hoped they'd changed. Or at least that they would be proud of him. After all, he'd saved a lot of people and does so every day. Instead he is reminded that they hadn't bothered to check on him when he almost died twice - first by being crushed and second because of the blood clots - and then laid in the hospital.

Those were the people supposed to love him no matter what and all he got was constant criticism.

That night you had woken up not long after him because of his missing warmth. With a worried expression you'd found him and once again, held him close. He had melted into your arms, tears starting to fall again as he clutched you close as if scared to lose you.

After reassurance you would gladly give any day you had gone back to bed, your hand on his cheek and caressing his birthmark.

Today you hadn't even known Buck would see them or be confronted by their doings. The last time you'd heard about them was when he explained that he had a brother. That he was only conceived to be a match for a bone marrow transplant.

That night had been harder than the one before. You're quite sure no matter how much you tried to show him that he wasn't just a failed way to save someone you don't think it got completely through to him. And you didn't blame him; you couldn't imagine living with something like that weighing you down.

You're in his kitchen trying one of Bobby's recipes when the door opens and Buck comes in. You could read him like a book; there wasn't a moment you weren't able to tell what he was feeling. But now? You genuinely didn't know.

He was frowning but there's a smile resting on his face and his eyes are red.

“Buck?”

He looks up, seeing you there in his sweater with a knife in your hand as you chop vegetables for a recipe from Bobby he loved, and he breaks. But instead of simply crying he chuckles, too.

“Buck, what's going on?” Your voice is worried and he just shakes his head as he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his forehead to yours. You put the knife down and reach up to cup his face and your index finger soothes over his birthmark, something you'd made a habit over the year of being with him.

“I think they're finally accepting me for.. me.” He only says and you sigh but nod. He notices your slight apprehension and quickly adds on, “But I don't want them to. I don't need their acceptance. They don't decide how much I'm worth.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ in surprise but you laugh breathlessly and nod, “Exactly. You're saving lives on the daily, you don't need anyone to tell you how good you are. Not your parents, not your friends, not me.”

He nods along until the last part where he cocks his head and looks at you with his signature half smirk. “I do need you to tell me how good I am, actually.” That makes you smile as well and you sigh, “That's not what I meant and you know it.”

He just shrugs and unlike when he first came in you can see pure happiness and love on his face.

“God, I love you so much, Evan Buckley.”

He grins and surges forward to kiss you passionately, his hands gripping your hips as if you'd slip through his fingers any moment.

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #oliver stark #911 fanfic #911 show #911 spoilers #9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction

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byeolbeloved · 27 days

Text

Letters to Cupid -Kang Yeosang

Pairings> soldier!yeosang x typist!reader

Genre> childhood friends to strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, use of flashbacks, slightly suggestive, setting takes place around 18th century

Summary> for centuries, women named cupids worked as typists to write letters on behalf of senders who couldn't write themselves. You were always the writer but never the receiver for a love letter, yearning to be picked up by a knight. What you didn't expect was for this knight to have a familiar set of eyes, only this time lost from the innocence they once had.

Words from pupa : This fic is inspired by the anime Violet Evergarden! Also note that the writings in small italics are meant to be flashbacks. I had so much fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it <3 The picture is also fanart I made myself hehe so I hope you like that too ^^

The typewriter clicked away, following a warm melody of the woman reminiscing her adventures with the other piece of her that is now battling the screams and horror of man. The warm scenery of her words contrasted the thunderous roars outside. The weather had no mercy on lovers under the moonlight.

"Please tell him I love him and I'll always be waiting for him" the woman said glass eyed.

She's a gorgeous woman, with light make up and well done hair, although judging from the purple under her eyes you can tell she's had restless nights, tearful even, by her pink nose that was already prominent as she walked through the door.

You always thought about how hard it must be to have your lover be in the military. You've seen many cases of these couples working as a typist. You had at least 10 letters a day of women writing to their husbands on how badly they miss them, some not knowing their ashes have become part of the land they fight to protect.

"He will appreciate this letter dearly, Elenor. I will make sure to send it out by Friday" you say with a smile embossing a wax seal on the letter.

"Oh thank you Cupid. I was never good at using the typewriter so when an old friend told me about you I practically came here as fast as I could. It's been a month since he's been away, we've never been separated for this long.."

"It must be so hard for you both. He'll be just fine El... I see the love in your eyes, he'll come back to them"

Education was a privilege, hence the reason why so many people were illiterate. For centuries women named "Cupids" wrote letters on behalf of senders who weren't able to write to their loved ones themselves or simply didn't know how to express their emotions on paper. It started from a voluntary organisation but has now turned into a whole company, well known throughout the land.

You were born into the world of literature. Your father was a writer and your mother was a book illustrator. Work being the opening chapter for their own love story. From the moment you were born, books heavily dominated your life. Literally. Because even from the scene of your birth, where your mother delivered you unexpectedly at the house you grew up in, you were wrapped in ripped pages from books- that being the first thing they could grab instead of a blanket at such a chaotic scene of panic.

You grew up with your mother reading you books and you accompanied your father while he wrote. Although you loved literature, writing your own book wasn't something you saw yourself doing. You much preferred experiencing a realistic event rather than coming up with a story, which is why you fell in love with this job.

You get to write true emotion while hearing another person's story and relationships. And you were clearly good at portraying what people wanted to express as you had tons of people personally asking for you to write for them.

Love; a topic you could rant on and on about. You dreamt about being picked up by a knight, running away from reality just to intertwine in each other's soul.

However, you weren't such a hopeless romantic as you were very selective with the guys you talked to, let alone dated. No one has ever made you feel like a princess getting saved by the prince. Maybe reality isn't like the books, however, you felt that there must be someone in this lifetime who could make you feel like that.

The night was dark. Dark as the swelling wave of the ocean before the rising winds, when it bends its head near the coast. Rain fell hard against the concrete floor and the wind was so sharp it could cut you.

The girl shut her eyes, trying to count sheep to calm her heartbeat but the sound of the rain only pictured her sheep drowning in the night alongside her.

"The rain won't get us here" spoke the boy, flashing her a smile that emphasized the pink red mark by his left eye. The red mark he told her was from a kiss from cupid after she pointed out how it looked like a heart. They were under the awning of a closed store.

"The rain is scary Yeosang" she frowned.

"It's only water" he held his hand out to the rain and let it get wet "see? I'm fine"

"I know but I don't like the noises"

"Then don't listen to the noises. You can just listen to me" he wiped his wet hand on the side of his pants and grabbed onto hers.

"I will protect you from the rain. I promise I will always hold your hand when it rains Y/N"

“Sorry I’m late, I just finished up with my last client for the day. Did I miss anything?” you place down your coat on the chair back.

“Only Jia swooning over mailman Tony again” Sakura chuckled while sipping her coffee.

“Seriously, when are you going to make a move? He might be single” Maya continued mouthful with a sandwich.

“Oh shush there shall be no romance at work. We have a business relationship and that’s how it’s going to stay. Now let’s get started with the meeting so we can head home before the weather gets worse.” Jia snaps and everyone hides their smiles at her shyness.

“Okay, this meeting is to just remind everyone about plans for next week. We will be accompanying commander Chan- everyone remembers him right? From last year. We will be writing letters for his unit, he has a different unit now. Make sure to pack warm clothes sinc-”

“Since there will be lower temperature in the North” Sakura and Maya said together in a monotone voice. “We’ve done this before Jia we knowww~” Sakura whines.

“Just relax and look out for the hot single soldiers” Maya giggles to Sakura who is now poking at Jia’s side.

“Business! This is business guys! We're going there for work. Plus, these hot guys are depending on us to bring back their messages to their families. No fooling around” Jia makes clear.

Once a year your team will visit military camps to write for soldiers. You’re usually there for 3 days excluding travel. Apart from some of the men being touch starved and looking as if they’ve never seen a woman in their life- most of them are really nice. Last time they even set out a mini farewell and thank you party before your departure.

The crisp sound of snow beneath your feet and cold sensation on your nose definitely woke you up from your nap on the way here. It actually felt quite nice, your surroundings bright from the white snow despite the sun not yet risen and the cold air felt like a splash of water to your face in the early morning. All nice except for the sound of Sakura and Maya’s whines from how their boots weren’t fit for the snow. This is exactly why Jia spent so much time whining about clothing.

The soldiers shared cabins or tents. You girls too got your own cabin to share- unfortunately quite small so you’ll have to put up with Maya’s snores throughout the night, however big enough for the 4 of you. The main area had its own cabin. That’s where the soldiers mostly hang out and eat.

As you girls made your way to the main area, commander Chan introduced you to everyone. There seemed to be at least 40 men in there, thankfully all divided into units so it was easier to organise when you’ll be working with who.

Everyone gave you a warm welcome. You girls spent the first hour chatting with some of them, or you could say flirting for Maya and Sakura, before going into your cabin and unpacking your stuff.

Everyone was really sweet. Two soldiers, a long haired guy with a mole under his eye and another slightly taller than him with a dorito-like physique showed you around the area and let you know the schedule for breakfast, training and lunch. The area was quite open, you could see yourself getting comfortable here as it was very quiet. However, during all this you felt a pair of eyes on you. Though looking around you never saw anyone who could be staring.

“Slow down Yeo! It’s really rocky here” the little girl pants, trying to keep up with the energetic boy in front of her. He’s practically waddling like an excited maltese dog that’s about to get a treat.

“Just a little more, come on!” he grabs onto her hand speeding up her steps, now reaching his pace.

The two youngsters reach the top of the hill, overlooking the dazzling sight of flowers in different shapes and colours spread out across the field.

The girl lets out a gasp eyes sparkling “This is… what you wanted to show me?”

“What do you think?”

“Yeo this is…. Beautiful” her eyes scan across the field, completely forgetting the distant yelling from her mom she was worrying about 15 minutes ago from why she took so long to get back home after school.

“It’s gorgeous” says the boy, but he’s not looking at the scenery of flowers. He’s looking directly at her. Swimming in the ocean of her sparkling eyes reflecting the warm colours from the sunset.

You are gorgeous he thought to himself.

The day was busy. Each unit who was on their breaks got their letters done and even though it was only day one, you managed to get lots done already. It was already pitch black outside and everyone was already tucked into their cabins.

Maybe you were still in work-mode but your body had no intentions to rest as you couldn’t stop tossing and turning in your bunk bed so you decided to take a step outside. You walked over to a corner with bright pink flowers contrasting the white snow, standing tall and so youthful.

“So beautiful…” you whispered, crouching to touch the soft pedals. They look like they have just bloomed.

“Cyclamen” a deep voice from behind you startles you, letting out a light yelp from you as you turn around quickly. Your yelp almost turns into a loud gasp as you quickly identify the figure owning that deep voice.

His hair is a light chocolate brown, long enough to be tucked behind his ears but not in a I haven’t thought about cutting my hair type of way- it was well maintained. He was taller than you but not enough so that you’re practically looking up. His body was clearly fit, arm muscles very prominent even from his camo print thick jacket. His skin was pale. So pale it looked like milk. So pale it emphasized the pink mark by his left eye.

Kang Yeosang.

You had no doubt this was the same boy who used to have thick pitch black hair, sometimes patchy bangs from the self haircut his sister used to give him. The same boy who looked at everyone with sparkly eyes and clapped his hands together when he laughed.

This was your Kang Yeosang.

“Those flowers are Cyclamen” he said expressionless, hands in his pockets.

You don’t know if it's the cold air drying your eyes or your overwhelming emotion but you start to feel tears forming, so hot and full of sentiment they almost burn your skin. “Yeosang…?” you whisper but it comes out shaky.

“They mostly bloom in cold weather” he says, still in the same stance.

“Are there any more flowers around here?” you sniffle out tilting your head.

“I’ve seen snow roses around here before. Would you like to see them with me someday?”

“I’d love to” you said with a smile, now earning a smile from him.

He takes his hands out of his pockets and steps closer to you, pulling you into a hug which you gracefully accept, your arms latching around his neck almost a bit too tight.

“Hello Y/N” and that's your breaking point. You start sobbing into his chest muffling out I miss yous to which he responds with a hand on your head, caressing it gently.

“I’m here”

The walk was quiet and heavy. Each step representing minutes lost from each other.

The girl is the first to break the icy silence “can’t you wait at least till next year? We just graduated”

“Y/N this isn’t my choice to make, I don’t have any other choice. It’s what I’m supposed to do” the boy says against his wishes.

“When will I be able to see you again?” the girl now looks at him glass eyed.

“I don’t know” he lowers his head but quickly looks at her holding her hand. “Hey, no matter how long it will take, I will always be here, yea? I promise Y/N”

“Please don’t break that promise Yeo..”

The following days you and Yeosang were practically glued together when you had the time. You caught up on each other's life events and even reminisced about your childhood together. It was almost like you were kids again, except you noticed how serious Yeosang is now.

You don’t expect him to have that same innocence as he had when you were younger. He’s a grown man now and also a soldier. Not a particularly happy go lucky type of job. However, apart from teeth smiles while covering his mouth with his hand, you haven’t heard him laugh yet. You missed it. You missed the days when you both ran around giggling at any little thing. Is that boy you loved, lost?

“But yea, let’s just say leaving a half opened can of soup in a tent for 2 weeks isn’t a great idea” he scratched his head and lightly chuckled.

You laughed at his stories with his cabinmates. So far he has only told you about silly fun stories with his friends, apart from him explaining the basic routine of what they do in training. You were glad he was able to make fond memories as a soldier, especially since you knew how nervous he was joining the military.

But something about you knew that wasn’t all. Has he really been doing well? What about the times he's been in battle? Has he been greatly injured before? Broken a bone maybe? Does he miss his family?

Did he ever think about you?

“Yeo…” you placed your spoon down. The main cabin was far too loud for both of you to have a conversation so you and him chose to stay in his tent for breakfast and dinners. His cabinmates barely stayed there unless it was for sleep so you had all the privacy you wanted.

“How are you? Really”

“I’m doing well”

“No Yeo, I mean about everything. Do you like it here? Don’t you miss home?”

“Home? Well… Mom occasionally sends letters, I’ve visited sometimes but travel is so long I’d only have a day with them till I have to come back so… I’ve stopped visiting.” How long has it been since he’s had a home cooked meal?

“This definitely isn’t luxury heh, but I’m used to it Y/N. Don’t worry about me, I know what I’m doing here”

“Do you ever think about… me? Us?” immediately his gaze softens to your words. This is probably the first time you’ve seen a genuine expression on his face since being here. His hand is gently placed on your thigh and he brings his face closer to you.

“Of course Y/N, I told you I’ll always be here. I promised” his eyes burn into your soul and your gaze meets his birthmark. Your finger moves by itself and goes to gently touch it.

“I don’t see you anymore Yeosang… everything is so different”

“I know. It’s hard. This is all very hard but we are going to work this out Y/N”

Your faces are so close together you can practically taste his breath. His eyes land to your lips and for a second you could see the pupils of his eyes grow. He slowly breaks the space between you and you close your eyes, expecting to feel a touch on your lips until he breaks off the moment with a whisper “I want to write a letter.”

“I don’t understand thissssss~ let’s just take a break”

“We’ve already taken 2 breaks. Here, I started the first step for you, now remember what we did for question 6, it’s basically the same thing” the boy hands her the sheet of paper.

“Yeo I appreciate your help but maybe this is a sign from god that I should just give up on Math” the girl slouches on her seat kicking her feet.

“Math isn’t that hard, you just need to focus. Now come on we still have 5 pages left.”

“5 PAGES!? I might as well throw myself off the window”

“If you finish this in the next hour” he leans in close to her ear “I might give you a kiss” he leans back to his chair with a smug look on his face.

You’d think the girl wore face paint on her face from the deep red that was now formed. Without a word she picks up a pencil and writes away on her paper.

“Damn you Yeosang”

Some people get frustrated with slow walkers in front of them, slow drivers or even someone talking way too calmly, but the way Yeosang is working the typewriter makes you want to snatch it from him and do the job yourself.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to write the letter for you?”

“It’s fine I got this” he continues on with his slow pace.

“Who are you writing that letter to anyway?”

“Just someone”

“Who is just someone?”

“A person I know”

“Who is this person you know?”

“You don’t know them”

“Pleaseee Yeooo~” you lean in closer to him “I’ll give you a kiss if you tell me who” you giggle remembering his little tactic he used to use on you in school.

“Mmmm I’ll think about it” you huff in frustration and he laughs.

He laughs.

Your worries of losing the boy you loved dearly completely vanished as you finally see that innocent boy back. His laugh sounded like the doorbell of a childhood house, where kids would run to see if daddy is home. The last bell ring at school, when kids ran home to show mommy what they drew. The sound of the ice cream truck song amplifying as it rolled up from down the street. The clicking sound of riding your first bike, parents cheering in the background for balancing without training wheels.

He sounded like childhood and you felt like a child again.

In what felt like forever, Yeosang finished his letter. Sealing the paper into an envelope ready to be read by this mystery person you so badly wanted to know.

“Okay I’ll take it and make sure to send it out. Make sure to write the address.” you reach your hand out but he doesn't move.

“Oh no I want to keep it”

“What?”

“I want to keep the letter.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you want to send it to that person?”

“Not yet.”

“We can withhold it and send it at any given time you want”

“It’s fine, I’ll send it myself”

Him protecting this letter made you even more curious as to who it was for. Surely he didn’t just write something for fun. Who was this friend? Was it a girl? Or possibly a lover? Surely not. Especially not when he almost just kissed you a while ago.

He promised. You’re just overthinking. Right?

It was your last day with the soldiers. You only had a couple of letters to finish and by nightfall you and the girls were set off to travel back home. Absolute no bone in your body wanted to go back home. This meant being separated from Yeosang again and you weren’t ready to let him go yet, you only just reunited with him.

“Y/N, you have a visitor waiting” Maya points to the door, only to see Yeosang waiting for you.

“I have a few more letters to write th-” you’re shushed by Maya when she lightly shoves you out of the room “Don’t worry, we got this, you go enjoy your last moments with lover boy” she whispers the last part although Yeosang surely heard judging by the way he looked away.

“Ooo he’s a shy lover boy too” Maya says before closing the door, you can still hear her giggles through the wall as you’re now left alone with Yeosang.

“Shall we go?” he quietly says.

“Yeah, where are we going?”

“You’ll see”

The two of you slowly walk side by side, occasionally bumping the sides of your arms. There isn’t much talking but the silence is comfortable. Almost too comfortable that you forget this is the last time you get to examine his features before the final goodbye for god knows how long it will be again.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Yeosang hands you a big white flower, a snow rose. “This is the snow rose I told you about” he said with a smile gently handing it over to you.

“Yeos-”

“Marry me Y/N”

What.

Time stops for a second. A long second. Even the birds stop chirping and the wind halts. You aren’t sure what just happened but your heart knows for sure that it’s a big deal as it beats so hard, destined to break out of you and reach his own, intertwining with his and merging into one.

“What did you say?” you mutter quietly.

In contrast with your tone, Yeosang is confident. His chin is up high, shoulders back and there's a look in his eyes that show no sign of hesitation.

“I want you to marry me Y/N” he takes a step closer, and another, and another, till you’re now backed up into the rough surface of a tree.

“I’m going to make this work, I’ll find a way to leave this place if I have to but Y/N, I can’t let you go again.” he cups your face gently and swipes his thumb across your cheek “I’m done keeping promises and making you wait, I want to be with you Y/N, only you” he rests his forehead against yours.

“Come home to me Yeosang” you breathe onto his lips before locking them together.

Your lips dance together so full of passion and need it almost feels as if your bodies are intertwining into one. You feel his small smile through the kiss as you deepen it, locking your hands in his hair while his explores the sides of your body.

Cold air hits your belly as he lifts up your shirt to slide his hand against your skin, caressing your chest. If you weren’t so lost in the kiss you would have noticed that he was practically spelling his name across your chest with his hand movements.

Remembering that you both need to breathe, he’s the first to break the kiss. You’re both a panting mess but he manages you let out a chuckle “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes in every language Yeosang. I will marry you” you smile out taking in his lips once again.

You asked for a rose, but Yeosang gave you a whole garden.

Two years later

“Tell me Cupid, what should I tell her? I’m so scared. What if she’s waiting for another man?” the man from across you says, blowing his nose into his now 8th tissue in the past 10 minutes.

“Sir Walker, you clearly love her right?”

“Yes! Oh heavens more than anything, I-I’d kill for her, I’d crawl on my knees for he-” he sighs taking a breath “I don’t imagine a life without her”

“Then fight for her” you say softly.

“She’s lands away from me Cupid! How will I be a man to her if I cant even reach for her?”

“Make that happen. You said you would kill and crawl for her. Put actions to your words Sir Walker and show her you love her. You are living in the same lifetime, right here, right now, don’t regret your choices and lose her. She needs to see you fight for her”

The man breaks down but looks up at you again, composing himself before saying “Have you experienced love Cupid?”

“Everyone experiences love. If not now, one day, just as you wait for love, there is another person waiting for the same. Everyone has someone awaiting them” you softly smile.

“I’ll do it. Tell her I’m coming to get her. I’m not sure when but from today onwards, she will be my focus” the man lets out a broken smile. Broken yet mendable.

“She will be waiting for you Sir Walker” you say before typing away, a paragraph that awaits a new chapter for the couple.

Your night ends with that heartfelt love story. You hope the best for the couple and your heart nearly breaks with his as you also can’t help but think about your person you are waiting for.

The weather outside is mean. Almost in hopes of drowning man in its rage. The thunder roars and you’re left counting sheep in your head- something you’ve been doing ever since you were a kid to calm down.

As you’re walking out of the building Jia calls you from behind “Y/N you have a letter!”

She runs up to you and hands you the letter. “Who is this from?” you ask as you’ve never received a letter before.

“Hm not sure” she looks into a room, clearly distracted by something, or someone as you look at the direction only to see the famous mailman who has been working here years before you joined the company- Tony.

“Um yea I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N I gotta go, bye! Let me know who that letter is from!” she says from a distance practically skipping her way to Tony,

You don't get the chance to even reply to her before she's gone. You look at the letter and there is no address to indicate where it was sent from, which could only mean this letter must have been dropped off by the sender here at the company.

You walk out the building, still sheltered from the awning covering you. Your steps are heavy, unable to move.

It's fine Y/N let's take this slow you thought to yourself deciding to just stand there for a while before making your way home.

You curiously open the letter and start reading it;

Dear Y/N,

How are you? I am writing this letter to you while you are right next to me. I hope you’re not mad about almost kissing you and asking to write a letter instead. It’s just that I wanted to capture my feelings towards you at this given moment, so we can hopefully both look back at this letter.

You asked me if I liked it here. I don’t. I hate the feeling of knowing every movement I make can be my last, and that I won’t be able to say my final goodbye to you. I hate that I go to sleep at night, responsible for another lost man from his lover. I wish I could be able to come home from work and tell you about my day. But what can I tell you? About how many screams I heard? How bloody my hands are after every battle?

You asked me if I think about you. My answer is yes. Painfully yes. I always think about what you could be doing at any time. If you found yourself love. I worry everytime it rains, do you have anyone to hold your hand during thunderstorms? I force myself to repeat your voice in my head because I’m so afraid of forgetting what you sound like. I always remember about the day I took you to the flower field. You looked so beautiful in that moment. So everytime I find a flower, I make sure to stop and admire it, pretending it’s you. Because to me, you are far more beautiful than any flower out there.

I will come home to you Y/N. I promised I would be there. I promised to hold your hand. And I will fulfil my promises, even if it means fighting for my life.

Wait for me my love.

Love,

Yeosang.

“Damn you Yeosang” you chuckled out, a crack in your voice causing tears to slip out. You look up to the sight of the man in reason for these tears. He’s still wearing his uniform, hat covering half his face. He seems to have gotten bigger in physique too. He drops his hat and you smile widely at the sight of his birthmark, now holding smiling eyes.

“It’s raining” he said, reaching out a hand “I’m here to hold your hand.”

You completely ignore the extended hand and crash your body into his for a tight hug. An embrace with no chance of him slipping out.

“You came home” you said into his chest.

“I came to stay”

“And to hold my hand”

“And to hold your hand” he laughs out.

Yeosang was your childhood. Yeosang is your home.

147 notes · View notes

foreverinadais · 2 years

Text

the break-up:

summary: in which y/n is going through a break-up with the moon boys and happens to be serving when one of them is on a date. reader x steven, reader x marc, reader x jake (3rd person, she/her pronouns)

warnings: ANGST (there is fluff, don’t worry) , break-up, language, fem! reader

word count: 4109

thank you for all the love on this fic!! every interaction has made me smile and is very much appreciated. hope you enjoy :)

Working in at the small Steakhouse restaurant was certainly not what Y/N had envisioned for her career. It was, to put it plainly, becoming rather tedious to deliver the same orders every night to similar faces of people, mostly the ones in love.

Love.

The thought of it made her feel sick. It was not long ago she was that person sat in a small restaurant, gazing longingly into the eyes of one of the three men she had fallen deeply for. She saw herself in those people, full of hope and desire. But now, she saw herself in ones sitting alone, eyes clouded with tears and doubt.

Break-ups were hard.

Especially when it was with 3 separate personalities, people. With each one, she was losing something else- Steven’s unadulterated sweetness, Marc’s vulnerability, Jake’s passion. But all three, together, they completed her, filled her heart with a feeling she had only ever heard of from Shakespeare and Byron- love. Absolute love. And when she lost that, not once but 3 times… she felt loss. Painful, heart-wrenching, unreal loss, that left her reeling in pain every night, and fighting the overwhelming sense of loneliness during the day.

She didn’t understand. She couldn’t understand how it was over. She finally understood how words could carry such pain- we can’t do this anymore. It had hurt more than any punch ever could, felt like a literal dagger in her heart.

“What? What do you mean? Marc?” It was Marc who was nominated by the others to do the deed. Y/N had instantly noticed something was wrong, rushing to his side and comforting him before seeing an unfamiliar look in his eyes, something dark and heavy that made her heart race. He felt a lump form in his throat. No. He was meant to be able to do this.

“I’m sorry. But we… we need to break-up.” The silence that followed was almost unbearable as Y/N studied his features. He almost couldn’t read her expression, almost shocked when she let out a breathy laugh.

“Is this some kind of a joke? Your kidding, right?” Denial. Marc shook his head, having to turn away from her before he broke completely.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, scared that if he attempted to say anything more, his cover would break completely. Y/N was still for a second.

“No. I don’t believe you.” He sighed in a mixture of frustration and sadness, shaking his head. He needed to get it together. “Whatever’s going on, I’m here for you. all of you. you know that Marc, whatever this is, we can work through it, right?” She sounded so sweet, voice collected and comforting.

“I-” The words were escaping his mind as all he could think of was pulling her into his chest and kissing her until neither could breathe. And it was then Jake took control. Y/N could sense his presence immediately; the way his shoulders tensed, his head dipping slightly.

“Jake. What’s going on?” she tried the question again, feeling nausea creep in her stomach.

“Marc said already.” He was being short with her, voice sounding angry, stern. Oh. He was still turned away from her, and she let out a groan in exasperation, grabbing his arm and turning him to face her. He was avoiding eye contact, looking to the floor, expression cold and distant.

“For fuck sake, Jake, why?! Can you just, just be straight with me. Because I’m confused.”

“We need to end this. It’s over.” She felt tears prick her eyes, anger replacing the nerves.

“But why?! WHY, Jake, this is ridiculous!” She took his cheeks in her hand and forced his eyes to look into hers. She wanted to break his exterior, wanted him to tell her the truth, or admit it was all a joke. But he held her eyes this time, not looking away when he said:

“It has to be like this. I’m sorry.” Y/N scoffed.

“No…” and she felt the anger coming out. “No! This is pathetic.” And she began hitting his chest, not hard enough to hurt, not even slightly, but he felt each blow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Lo siento…”

“You- fuck- can’t do this to me. You can’t!” She carried on hitting his chest until she felt weak, and suddenly, someone was gently grabbing her wrists.

“Y/N/N…” She felt a sob wrack her body and stopped, falling into Steven’s chest. He almost reluctantly comforted her, a hand stroking her back as she cried.

“What’s happening, Steven?” The hurt in her voice was unbearable. He felt tears fill his eyes as he lightly took her shoulders and urged her away, so she was facing him. “Please.” The word came out as a broken whisper and Steven swore it was the worst sound he’d ever had to endure.

“Listen, love, I mean, Y/N…” her name felt weird coming from his lips, ones which usually graced her with pet names and terms of endearment. “I know this is hard to hear, trust me, but we, us, well, we decided we need to-”

“Not you, too. Please, Steven, you cant possibly want this.” He didn’t. None of them did. But alas, it had to be done.

“I-”

“Give me one good reason. I swear, Steven, this isn’t fair and if there isn’t a reason then I’m not leaving.”

“T-there is.”

“Tell me.”

He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say what he knew needed to be said. Which they all agreed needed to be said for her to leave. She needed to leave. It was the only way they could keep her safe.

“It’s just, things happen, don’t they? Just life, innit?”

“That isn’t good enough, for fuck sake! You know that! Give me a reason-”

“I want too-”

“Cause this isn’t right-”

“Bloody hell-”

“Just fucking explain why your all-”

“Because we don’t love you anymore!”

And it was then the world shattered. Everything seemed to explode, fall out of place, everything but those words. Steven was breathing heavily, face red. She looked at him, a heaviness behind her eyes as she realised he must be serious. And then she was leaving, not even grabbing a jacket, just going out in the cold, London air, but she didn’t even feel it. She hardly felt a thing.

She once enjoyed the comfort of the Steakhouse. It was where she first met Steven, actually. He was smartly dressed, eagerly awaiting his date. But after a few times returning to take his order, it was clear that his date wasn’t going to arrive. She felt sad for the man, and when he did order, she offered to sit with him.

From there, Steven Grant fell madly in love for the girl who sat with him when he was sad.

And it wasn’t long before Marc and Jake fell too.

Sad, now, that the place full of memories, and where she worked every day, was tinted with sorrow and heartbreak.

“Alright, Y/N, your on-table service, Maya, you’re on till.” Y/N looked over to her co-worker who cocked an eyebrow before the drilling shift began. The first couple hours went by smoothly, normally, as Y/N took many orders of many couples, families, friends. She had the same smile plastered on her face- even to the particularly rude regulars who she always vented about after her shift, normally to her boyfriends… no, don’t think about them.

It was towards the end of the night when the restaurant got gradually less busy. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief as she noted it was nearly closing time. She couldn’t wait to get back to… her friend’s flat, where she was currently residing until she found something more permanent. It didn’t feel like home, far from it, and it made nowhere in her life feel safe.

“Table 4 is ready. Warning, Y/N/N, it’s a couple. Looks like a first date.”

“Ugh, great. Just what I need.” She replied sarcastically, and Maya gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Want me to do it?” Y/N sighed and shook her head, offering a smile in return.

“I’ll be fine. You, go, before John kills us both.” The pair laughed before Y/N adjusted the apron on her waist and got her notebook for orders. The table was outside, candlelight reflecting the stars in the nightfall. It was perfect for a date, a romantic nostalgia settling comfortingly around the area. Each table was like a small circle of the world, just for whoever was sat there.

She remembered when she was there, in her own corner of the world with the ones she loved most.

She had to shake her head of the thoughts, reminding herself that it was, in fact, over.

The London air was chilly, and she stayed in the doorway for a brief moment before going outside. She saw the table she was to tend to, and prepared her brief interaction as she always did, making her way to the table.

The first person she noted was a woman, hair long, fingers tapping against the surface of the table. Her voice couldn’t be heard from this distance, the buzz of the city drowning out any words that weren’t in direct distance for. The next person was facing away from the door, face out of view. They were sporting a head of dark, curly hair, but it was morphing with the dark, and Y/N couldn’t observe much else.

She reached the table, eyes still down on her notepad, preparing for her normal line: “Good evening, what can I get for you both tod-” But when she looked up, her world stopped. The buzz of London was a mere silence now as her eyes were locked with ones she knew so well for so long. That had left her not so long ago now.

Steven.

She knew it was him. she could tell by the slight widening of his eyes, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. She could tell by the way his mouth was slightly agape, searching for words he wouldn’t be able to find in the vast swirl of his mind, and 2 others, no doubt.

Y/N almost forgot where she was until a small cough brought her crashing down to reality. “Excuse me, miss? You sort of trailed off there.” A posh British accent broke the air, and Y/N turned her attention to the woman Steven was with.

“Oh!” Too enthusiastic. Y/N flinched at herself, starting again. “My apologies. I must have lost my train of thought. Um, oh right! What can I get you today, both of you?”

“Let’s start with a bottle of red, then I’ll have rare with a side of mash.” Y/N nodded, trying to ignore the fact they were there. When she had scribbled it down, she attempted to act normal when turning to Steven.

“And you… sir?” He tore his eyes away from the depths of the table to look into her eyes. He tried to form a coherent sentence but instead settled on the words:

“Yeah, I’ll, um, have the same.” Y/N just nodded, muttering her usual ending line of ‘be with your shortly’ before practically running from the table. Her heart felt heavy, and tears filled her eyes as she quickly slipped into the staff area to catch her breath.

Seeing Steven with someone else? That hurt. They had moved on. Truly. And she was stuck in limbo. Her heart still belonged to them. She stayed a moment longer before realising she had to pass the order on, wiping her eyes and shaking her head, before exiting to the kitchen. After passing the order on, hardly looking at the pad, she tried to forget what was happening.

But he was out there. Steven, with his adorable smile. Steven, with his sarcasm and jokes that had her crying. Steven, with the loving, doe eyes in pretty much every situation. And beyond him, there was Jake, stern but sweet, passionate but quiet. And there was Marc, the perfect mix of all. They were out there, forgetting about her, relishing in another’s company. And whilst she so desperately wanted to be happy for them, move on and forget, she couldn’t.

There was a time they were her future, and she couldn’t bring herself to make them her past.

The order for ‘table 4’ was shouted twice by the chef, who was unimpressed both times. Y/N apologised, taking the dishes, hearing words like ‘incompetent’ and ‘slow’ as she left- she resisted the urge to throw the dishes at him.

This time, she was ready for the sight at the table, but no more prepared. Now, she felt dread as she saw the familiar curly hair. But, putting it aside, she returned, wondering if Steven had explained the situation to his unsuspecting date.

“I’ve got one steak, rare with mashed potatoes,” she started, putting the dish down in front of the woman, “And one vegan steak with green beans.” She hardly looked as she placed the meal in front of him.

“Vegan? He didn’t say vegan.” Oh. Y/N realised she had ordered Steven’s usual, not what he ordered. Her eyes widened in embarrassment as Steven looked at his meal then back at her.

“Oh, I’m… I’m so sorry, let me get that for-” In her haste, she accidently knocked the wine bottle off the side, and it fell to the floor with a SMASH. “Shit!” Everyone outside instantly turned to the scene, Y/N instantly on the floor trying to pick up the glass as Steven’s date stood up in anger.

“What kind of a place is this?! Wrong order then smashes the wine…” the voice was clouding out as Y/N felt overwhelmed with emotions. She heard the manager step out, trying to calm down the angry customer, who only stopped when he assured her the meal was on the house with a free dessert. She heard her manager’s angry grumble for her to be inside as soon as she finished cleaning up her mess. In the heat of it, she didn’t notice her hand bleeding from a particularly sharp bit of glass. She must’ve looked awful, because hands were suddenly helping her off the ground and escorting her back inside.

“C’mon, love, it’s alright. Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” She hardly responded as she was lead into one of the bathrooms and sat on the closed toilet seat. “Let’s hope this doesn’t get infected, eh?” Gentle touches cleaned the wound and it felt so familiar, so safe, that she forgot it was him. Sniffles left her every so often as Steven muttered something every now and then. But apart from that, it was silent.

And then, the touches stopped. And it was done. She looked up to see Steven already staring at her, seemingly analysing every detail of her face. The tiredness in her eyes, the gentle frown on her lips, which he would do anything to kiss. “Why did you come here?” She whispered softly, breaking the silence in the space.

He knew she worked here; they all did. Was it a technique to make her jealous? Was it to flaunt their new love? Was it to cause her pain?

Steven was quiet and he seemed to be battling the others in his head. She noted him looking at his reflection in the mirror longer than he had to before he turned back to her. She was almost surprised to see the overwhelming sadness behind his eyes.

“I needed to see you.” What? She shook her head, getting off the toilet, a moment to fast, wincing as she felt dizziness cloud her for a moment. Steven rushed forward to help her, but she stepped back.

“You were with another woman.”

“I know.” He muttered guiltily.

“You came to our first date spot.”

“Please…”

“You broke up with me, remember? You don’t… didn’t love me anymore.” Steven suddenly shook his head desperately, tears falling freely from his eyes.

“No. Y/N… my darling… no. I c-can’t do this. Take the body, someone.” And then it wasn’t Steven, it was Marc. And the look of sadness morphed into one of regret and a familiar softness that was only reserved for her.

She pushed down the urge to fall into his warmth, deciding instead to further distance herself. “Is your hand okay?” And she groaned in exasperation, throwing her hands in the air.

“It’s fine! But what’s not fine is this. You. Coming here. I’m glad that your moving on but I’m not there yet, okay? I’m trying to be happy for you, all of you, but seeing you is a reminder of what we had, what we lost, and I just…” she tried to stop the flood of emotions, but it was getting harder to contain. “Please, just… go.”

“Marc, we can’t make her go. Not without an explanation.”

“You heard the bird. She isn’t safe with us. She could fucking die Steven, because of us. We have to do this. Jake agrees, don’t you, Lockley?”

Silence followed by a “Si.” Steven was struggling with the idea. Breaking up with you to protect you. Because of what Konshu had said. He couldn’t lose you. but this was losing you and hurting you in the process. He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt you.

“We all need to be on board. We all need to do it. Cause she won’t accept it; our girl is stubborn.” Marc tried to laugh but it came out as a cough, as if he was choking on fear. Because they all feared it, losing her. But they knew it had to be done.

They all knew the pain of losing her in life was more bearable than the fear of losing her in death.

“I just… I can’t. I love her. Gods, I love her more than bloody anything in this life, and every life.”

“I do, too.”

“And that’s why we have to let her go.” Jake said, sternly and authoritatively. They all knew the risk. And they knew what had to be said.

Steven hardly fronted after it happened, to consumed with sadness and despair. Marc did the daily tasks whilst Jake focused on the rest. Steven had only agreed to go on a date when Marc and Jake deduced to get over someone, you had to get under someone.

It wasn’t working for any of them.

And whilst each handled the break-up in different ways, it all lead on the same destructive path; her. Thoughts of her corrupted every action of every day. Memories of the past. Good ones. But worst were the flashes of her after, the distraught look of desperation and bewilderment on her face when Steven had to say the words ‘we don’t love you anymore.’

It couldn’t have been further from the truth.

With every fibre of their beings, they loved her.

But Steven couldn’t resist when he saw the Steakhouse where he had met her, saw the place his love originated. He needed to see her. Needed to see that she was okay, better without them. What he didn’t expect was her getting hurt. He felt like it was an omen, a sign that danger follows him and that they were right to end it. But seeing the pain still etched on her beautiful face, and oh the way she got him his usual order by muscle memory alone... he needed her in his life. Without her, he wasn’t living; simply surviving. Hardly, at that.

So, Marc took control. Saw the way she stood away. Saw the way her eyes avoided his. He didn’t want to leave her, not again. It was hard enough the last time. For all of them. But alas, they were the ones that needed it. So they had to respect her wishes to leave.

“Please.” He just nodded, turning to go to the door, unlocking it. But before he left, he turned around.

“I'm sorry. The last thing I, we, wanted was for you to go.” Y/N suddenly noted something Steven had said.

“Wait... Steven said he didn’t want this. Didn’t want what? What’s this Marc?” Fuck, his name sounded so right coming from her lips. But Marc had to remain strong, so he shrugged. “Your lying. Just tell me the truth. What didn’t he want?”

Marc sighed. Always so stubborn. “Any of it.” Y/N looked around in confusion and was about to respond when Marc said, “I’m sorry again. I’ll go.” And he was leaving. She felt like she had been through a washing machine, head spinning and mouth dry.

Any of it.

What did that even mean?

When she left the bathroom, her manager was waiting for her, followed by a concerned looking Maya. Fuck. In the rush of it all, she forgot about the actual matter at hand. She was only half present as her manager shouted, hearing words like ‘embarrassing’ and ‘unprofessional’ thrown at her. But she was more fixated on other things.

When she was finally dismissed, thanking Maya who offered to do close up, and of course a chat, she made her way home. Home. What even was that? It certainly wasn’t her friends sofa. Nor was it her parents place. There was one place in the world where she felt safest, no matter the circumstances.

And she was stood outside the door now.

She didn’t know what she was going to say as she lifted her (uncut) fist up to the door, ready to knock when the door swung open. It felt like a cliché, the moment in a romance where there’s rain and tears and kissing. But there was none of that. Just a heavy energy between her and the third alter, the other who owned a piece of her broken heart.

Jake.

“Oh.” The sound of disgust left his mouth and Y/N swallowed harshly.

“I need to talk.” Jake didn’t have time to react as she barged past him into the flat. The smell was comforting, hugging her senses, as she took in the stacks of books, the sand, the dirty dishes slowly piling up. It all felt like home. That feeling of utter warmth and safety.

“Mierda." She heard him whisper but she was determined to get answers. “You shouldn’t be here.” She could tell by his tone that he wanted to sound serious, but there was an edge to his voice, one which made her think he didn’t mean what he was saying.

“Well, I am. And I’m not leaving until you tell me the truth.” Jake took off the cap on his head, throwing it to the side, already knowing she was being serious. “Can you give me that?” Jake heard Marc telling him it was a bad idea, that she would break them. Jake was their strongest, the last to fall for her charm- or at least the last to admit it.

“Sí. Fine.”

“So… did you come to my place of work just to see me?”

“No. Well, I didn’t. Steven did. Warned him against it, both of us. But he did anyway. Look where that took us.” Y/N felt her heart drop slightly at that. Maybe he did want her to go, leave forever. But something inside her, something stubborn and persistent, argued that wasn’t the case.

“Okay. Do you all miss me? Or is it just Steven?” Of course, we all miss you, are you insane? We can’t live without you, amor. Fuck.

Jake bit his tongue at the words pouring in his mind, instead opting on a shrug.

“That’s it?” Y/N scoffed. “So, you didn’t, then? You just moved on, like that?” she punctuated her words with a click of her fingers and Jake refrained the urge to groan.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Fuck, Jake! I just… I want closure. I want to know selfishly that I’m not the only one who feels like their fucking dying!” No. he knew he couldn’t hold on much longer if she cried. He couldn’t see that pain again. But there it was, in her trembling lip, her glassy eyes, her furrowed brows. He had to look away.

“Look, maybe you should-”

“No. I still have one more question.” She sniffled, trying to stop the tears from falling, trying to remain strong in front of the men she loved. “When did you stop loving me?” Jake finally turned to look at her, heart dropping when he noted her watery eyes were already on his. He could hear Marc telling him what to say, what to do that would solidify it, keep her safe forever, but even those words were cracked, blurry.

“We…” he was trying to find the words. Trying to find it in himself to lie again. But her eyes… those loving eyes, that were filled with so much ache, a longing he’d never seen before.

I can’t do it. What? Fuck… I can’t do this. Give me the body, then.

But Jake didn’t want to. Didn’t want to send her away, no matter how much he knew he should. “Well? When did you fall out of love? Was it me? Did I do something?”

“Stop.”

“That’s all I need to know. Then, I’ll leave. Forever, this time. If that’s what you want. Is it?” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to remain calm, to stop the compulsion, the absolute need for her taking over. “Why don’t you love me?” Perhaps it was the way her voice broke as she said this, or the way the alters stopped talking for a moment, but suddenly, Jake couldn’t hold back anymore.

He strode forward in a fast motion, and Y/N was about to say something else when his lips were on hers. She hardly needed to adjust as he kissed her with so much built-up passion, she felt dizzy. She hummed in surprise and content, hands fitting on his neck, pulling him impossibly closer as he cupped her face in his hands, feeling every detail he missed so dearly.

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed you every day.” His words were followed by his hands. Which were travelling the crevices of her body, making her gasp.

“But you left me… all of you.” It was a sobering reality which made her step away, him following suite. And then Marc was there, eyes instantly shutting in regret. “Why?” and this time, when she asked the question, Marc knew he had to give her an answer.

“Konshu… we made some pretty bad enemies, sweetheart.” She ignored how the name made her heart quite literally swell, “He reminded us of the risk. That they could use you to hurt us. So… we decided that keeping you safe meant you not being with us at all. That way, we can’t get you hurt.” Y/N was in disbelief.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Marc’s head snapped up to look at Y/N, who’s arms were crossed over her chest. “You listened to the bird? And didn’t speak to me first?”

“There was no negotiation. Your safety is first every time.”

“You don’t get to decide that. I could die at any point in any day.” She was walking towards him now which each word, “Yes, there’s a risk being with you. But it’s a risk I would take. Every single time, every single life. I choose you. All of you. I love you all and that’s enough to keep me safe and happy forever.”

“Oh, baby.” Marc was filling the distance now, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I just, we couldn’t risk losing you. Love you too much.” And there it was, the words she so desperately craved to hear since the moment Steven retracted them. Y/N looked up at his face, tracing his features with her fingertips; over the bridge of his nose, along the bush of his eyebrows, following the valley of his eyelids, until she cupped his jaw and brought him down for a loving kiss.

Marc’s exterior broke fully as he indulged in the love he had so painfully missed. The love he had to fight to keep away, for the sake of the person who owned his heart. “Can we…” Y/N started, hating that she was pulling away but tired of standing, “lie down for a bit?” Marc smiled, nodding and interlocking their hands.”

"That’s all I want.” But as she pulled him to the bed, he suddenly tugged away. She was surprised, turning to face him, noting how he was faced away from her. His shoulders were hunched slightly, hands in front of his body, fiddling with his fingers anxiously; Steven.

“Hey,” she started, smiling as she saw him there. But something was off. He began shaking his head.

“I can’t.” He whispered. Her heart dropped as she rushed forward, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, but it startled him slightly.

“You… what’s wrong? Steven?”

“Can’t look at you knowing what I did.” Y/N swallowed the growing emotion down in her throat, squeezing her eyes shut briefly.

“It’s okay-”

“No! It isn’t! I-I brought a date to our place. You cut your hand ‘cause of me! Blimey, I told you that we didn’t… love you. Caused you pain, I did, and I cant forgive myself. I won’t! “

“You did what you thought was right. What you all thought was right. And I’m not mad, okay? I just, I missed you. Fuck, I missed you so much. Please, Steven, let me see your face.” She felt her heart squeeze as a shuddering sob left his body, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his back and finding his hands with her own. “ ‘s okay, Steven, I’m here. I’m safe, we both are, hm?”

And finally, he turned around, practically collapsing into her arms, bringing them both down onto the floor. They were a tangle of limbs, desperate to find the comfort in each other that they had been deprived of. She realised she was crying too, face wet with his tears and her own. “I didn’t mean it, any word of it. My love… Y/N/N. I’m sorry, so sorry. I h-hated myself for what I did. Felt like a git, still do. But I mean this from the deepest bits in my heart: I love you. and I never want to lose you again, alright?”

She just nodded, whispering terms of endearments to him. And they faced each other, Steven analysing every detail of her face so he she would be forever etched in his mind, and Y/N, staring at her future.

And it was as if all the 3 broken pieces of her heart returned in an instant, making her blossom with love and hope. And in that moment, intertwined on the floor with the men she loved most, she had never felt safer.

#moon knight imagine #Moon Knight #moon knight angst #angst #Steven Grant #steven grant x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #jake lockely #jake lockely x reader #steven grant angst #marc spector angst #jake lockley angst #fem!reader #ff #fanfic #moon knight fanfic

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helsensm · 5 months

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I cannot hold it in anymore I am absolutely OBSESSED with your art and the way you draw Lao.

I also would like to inquire….. just perhaps… what are your top head-canons for him, and/or your opinions on popular ships for him/which ones you like?

No pressure!! I hope you are having a wonderful day 🧡

me, trying to act normal every time an awesome artist I look up to says something nice about my art

Thank you so much! first of all, please take this Lao with you, he's yours now~

now let me preheat my bad english.....

Most of my Lao headcanons (if they are not related to a particular art I made) were yoinked from another ppl, because DAMN FELLAS your brains are sexy. 😏 So you might have heard some of them already, but here's my top general hcs for him.

NOTE: we are talking about the current timeline mk1 Kung Lao

- Lao is very expressive with his hands and he's THE TOUCH person. Just look at how many times he took Raiden by the shoulder in the first chapter alone?? He'll be pushing, and patting, and shoving, and punching you all over while telling about his breakfast or something.

- Lao is struggling with inferiority complex. Since childhood he was under a tremendous amount of pressure, he has to do things right, to be better, or else he would be mocked or punished. Now he believes that he should be the best, or he would not be taken seriously. He's constantly seeking validation in his peers, causing him to act cocky and over-confident.

- Anger issues, usually when someone questions his skill.

- People call him lazy because he tries to act like everything comes naturally to him. In reality he trains hard and takes things seriously. Like, he's fighting with a RAZOR RIMMED HAT fgs, it's not something you can master in a day! Also he always got energy running through his veins, lucky bastard... *cries in iron deficiency*

- He makes his hats by himself. With his hands. He designs and creates. ALL of them. I will die on that hill.

- He's a slow to trust, but ride or die as a friend.

- He's a trouble maker FOR SURE, but not a bully. He's respectful and polite to most of the people (if they don't provoke him), also drinks his respect-women juice.

- Master of sass and sarcasm. And yes, I think he swears, but in the right circumstances or the right company.

- He's got rizz NOW, but in his teens he had zero game because he could not keep his mouth shut and would scare off the person with the most ridiculous piece of idiocy.

- I read it in one fic and really loved the idea that Liu Kang "told the blossoms" about Kung Lao, and they really liked him 🌸 so now they are following him around and bringing him news and gossips, that's why there's always those goddamn petals aroung him aasghGHHHj 🌸🌸

- He's rolling his eyes at Johnny, but they quickly become besties.

- He actually has a cold relationship with Liu Kang. Don't get me wrong, he trusts him, respects the hell out of him and will run into a wall for a man. But I think Liu will distance himself because of all the memories of HIS Lao and how badly they sting. oTL

- That smile and a bow Lao did after loosing to Raiden? He meant that. Loosing hurted BAD, but the pain was pushed aside by the sence of pride and happiness for his best friend.

oh shit, this is getting out of hand, I'm starting to think about the other timelines and dynamics, we'll be here all week hhhhgh

About the popular ships... Well, I'm a big fan of railao (yeah NO SHIT who would have thought), but I am a multishipper, so I'm just happy to see my fav characters feeling good in someone's hands. 😊

I really like the liulao and laoliutana for several different reasons. 👀 The johnshilao (or is it laojohnshi..? erm) was the one that didn't impress me at first (love the Lao just third-wheeling with a tired expression <:'D), but recently I'm starting to warm up to all the different dynamics these three can have. And that is, in no small part, thanks to you and your kenlao agenda 👀💖 damn you created such a nice cozy universe for them I'm 🥺💕💗💖

Bi-Han/Lao is a bit random, but I love how catto did them, they are such a cute pair of assholes! >:3

ummm, yeah, so I'm going to stop there ahahhH. Thank you again for asking and for all the nice little feels your art provides, I admire you tremendously~

#my asks #my art #kung lao #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #helsensm art

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butchdiaz · 10 months

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baby’s first 911 fic!!!!

i wish i said it better (poker fake dating spec 3 months late, 12k)

It’s 7am and Eddie needs to go home. The last 24 hours were non-stop. No big calls, but a million small ones, spread out just far enough to lull him into a false sense of relaxation, barely having time to lay his head on the pillow before the alarm blared through the station. He’s dead on his feet. He has to take a shower, maybe a power nap if he’s lucky, relieve Carla and take Chris to school in a little over an hour. Eddie needs to go home.

He parks outside Buck's loft shortly after 7:15, head reeling, replaying his conversation with Hen right before leaving the station on a loop.

“I'm just sick of it.” Eddie lets out a breath and bangs his head against the locker that he shares with Buck.

Eddie has been on three dates this week, and it feels like enough for a lifetime. How do people do this for months? For years? He feels a little silly giving up after a week after making such a big deal of putting himself back out there, but maybe he's just not meant for this. The revolving door of women.

“Sick of what?” Hen asks gently.

“The – the small talk and the not knowing what they like and the uncertainty and the thinking twelve steps ahead because there’s no way I'm bringing anyone less than perfect into Chris's life so as soon as one thing is off I'm checked out and I have to smile and nod my way through the rest of the night and,” Eddie sighs, feeling suddenly much older than thirty one, “It's exhausting.”

“Haven't you only been on, like, three dates?” Hen raises an accusing eyebrow. It's a statement with a question mark on the end.

“Shut up.”

“I'm just saying, there are a lot of amazing women in LA. It seems kind of unfair to write off all of them after three dates.”

Eddie sighs, tries to imagine sitting across the dinner table from a woman and wanting to take her home. It’s a blank in his mind. A blurry supercut of perfect women and perfect conversation that never leads to anything more.

He can picture the alternative, though. Coming home to Chris and Buck playing video games on the couch, squeezing in beside them with a beer, listening to their fond banter – exactly like he’s done after cutting every date short this week.

It's easy. No small talk, no pretense, no body on high alert for red flags.

“I'm not writing off all women,” he grumbles, “I just need a break.”

“From dating? Or from women?” Hen asks, a thoughtful expression on her face. Eddie doesn't like that face. It means she knows something.

“Uh,” Eddie stutters, feeling suddenly like he's caught in a trap, “Aren't they the same thing?”

Hen shrugs, “They could be.”

Yeah, definitely a trap. Hen closes her locker, and swings her bag onto her shoulder, taking a second to choose her next words with care.

“Have you considered,” she says, “that it's not the dating that's the problem?”

“Um,” Eddie replies eloquently once more, feeling lost. Hen sighs, looking at him like he can't grasp basic math.

“Maybe it's the dating women, Eddie. Maybe that's the problem.”

And, oh. Hen thinks he should date–oh.

He just stands there, LAFD jacket hanging loosely off one shoulder, mouth slightly agape like a fish out of water. Hen turns to go, taking one last look back at Eddie from the doorway.

“Just something to think about,” she says, that damn twinkle in her eye, knowing that she’s caught him, hook, line and sinker, “if you never have.”

read more on ao3

tagging the homies <3

@911onabc @useramor @translasso @lucydonato @anxieteandbiscuits @danielsousa @ilostyou @jamietarts @anirudhpisharody @janesbennet @try-set-me-on-fire @carryingbears @saltedbutr @rivermp3 @diazly @goldenbcnes @roy-kents @poughkeepsies

#HI BE NICE TO ME IM SCARED #i hate sharing my writing gonna throw up #rbs + kudos + comments are so so so appreciated :')#911 #911 fic #buddie #abby is making #my fic

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mono-dot-jpeg · 9 months

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tucking you in - himeko, kafka

summary; just some sweet platonic fluff with the aunts

genre/extra tags; scenarios, fluff, family fic, idk what else to say like, it's cute fluffy and sweet, child! reader, kafka and himeko are referred to as aunts

[platonic] [5-6 yrs old! reader] [gender neutral reader]

a/n; not much to say about this one tbh. just enjoy some fluff. also kafka's scenario is based off my memories with my mom when i was stuck at family parties late at night with her.

"now, now. your exploring must come to an end, little star." she hummed. you feel yourself getting picked up by himeko, soon turning you to rest your head on her shoulder.

"i don't wanna sleep though. why can't i stay up a little longer?" you moved your head to press your cheek on her shoulder and face her a bit better. "you can't even tell it's like night time here! we live in space!" you pointed at the windows of the express, clearly seeing the glittering stars and void of space.

"mm, yes i know, but even the brightest stars need to rest." she pokes your side, making you giggle. "if they burn too long, they get tired-" you yawn. "just like you."

"mhn.. but..."

"but?"

"but i'm not-" you try to hold back a yawn but fail, "tired."

"of course, of course. we're just going to grab your favorite book to read, and we're gonna lay down, get all comfy.." her soothing voice almost sings like a lullaby as she speaks softly through the halls of the passenger rooms. as you pass by each room, you can hear different sounds.

dan heng's room is humming like a quiet engine from the data library, march is still humming a little tune while she gets ready for bed, trailblazer is shuffling around organizing their room as they settle in, it's an interesting sensation of comfort when you sleep knowing that you have family right by your side. and welt's room is the most quiet of them all, you've never really been in his room but you know it has a lot of "old people things" as you once said.

"we're here." she sang quietly as she opened the door. it was currently a shared room for you and himeko. "you want to stay by my side tonight?" you nodded sleepily. you get ready for bed, though himeko is mostly helping you as your body is limp from how tired you are. "my tired little star.. look at you." she coos, cupping your cheek just squishing it for a moment.

before you know it, you're carried by himeko once again and your head hits the pillow, luring you into a deep sleep next to your aunt.

kafka... was a busy woman. you knew that, everyone knew that. she was just busy.

but that never meant that she never had time for you.

actually more often than not, she would be taking you around when she can. it was really endearing. blade wasn't amused, but she didn't care. and you didn't care either.

but also kafka's encounters and adventures.. were kind of boring. you were there to at least make it tolerable for her. but then you got bored too. and with being bored came being tired.

tonight was slightly less boring night, it was a meeting though so how less boring could it really be. could you even call it a meeting when they're all playing cards? they were still discussing big kid stuff from what you could hear. you didn't understand much of what they were saying. everyone was sat on the floor with a comfortable mat to sit on. your head rested on kafka's thigh as you zone out from the conversation.

you feel your hair get played with. kafka's free hand threads through your hair gently tugging out knots and scratching your scalp just a little bit. "you can sleep if you want, kid. we're gonna be here for a while." she mutters to you.

it takes you a while to fall asleep but hearing the chatter of blade, kafka, and silver wolf has you feeling tired quick. and you fall asleep.

"do we have a blanket?" kafka asks the others. "blade-y? can you grab one from the kid? you're losing anyways, so might as well." she snickers quietly. he obliges, tossing the blanket to her. she catches it, laying the blanket over you. "maybe get a pillow too?" blade gives her a look.

"no."

"you never think of the child, blade."

"i don't care about the child."

"don't ever talk to me or my kid ever again."

#honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #kafka x reader #kafka honkai star rail #hsr kafka #himeko hsr #himeko honkai star rail #hsr himeko #himeko x reader

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stedefxckingbonnet · 3 months

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hello hello! i don’t think i’ve seen anything like this yet, so may i request izzy x gn!reader who’s a bit insecure?

maybe they struggle with body image or something and izzy is basically like “how are they so blind??” but he struggles to express it because he’s never had to be so soft for anyone?

of course, ignore it if you’re not comfortable with it! :)

Hi, everyone!!

So, it's been a while. And I mean, a while. Longer than I wanted to step away from writing, and I never really wanted to step away from it in the first place but some stuff happened and yada yada. But I'm truly, truly hoping to be back and writing again to some capacity, I have truly missed writing for Izzy and for you all and I feel as though the world needs Izzy Hands content now more than ever! I truly do hope to be back.

I hope you don't mind that I put my own spin onto this, anon! You provided the lovely central plot and idea, and I simply provided an atmosphere and story to go with. Body image/insecurity is something I struggle with too, no matter how many times people tell me that I am beautiful, and I tried to channel that in this one. I am also not trying to send the message that other people's validation is what can make a person feel better about themself! I am more so trying to convey that the one(s) we love can often show us things about ourselves that we didn't know were there or didn't see before, and that they help us to love and appreciate these things about ourselves, and ourselves in general. You all who are reading this are so, so wonderful and beautiful and extraordinary even if you have a hard time believing it, and maybe your comfort character can help you to believe it a bit more in this little fic♡

Anyhow, please, request! Don't hesitate! My messages are also always open for anyone who needs anything but also just to say hi or talk about anything really. Thank you all for your everlasting support, patience, and kindness especially through my sort of absence ♡ Also, please, if I have used your gif or you know who created it, please credit yourself or them! I am not always good at figuring that sort of stuff out, but I want to give credit where credit is due. Have a wonderful day (or night), everyone!

Love,

Lavinia

What I See | Izzy Hands x Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, slight swearing, struggles with body image and insecurity, very direct izzy (in a good, affectionate way but may be inaccurate ish? but i believe it isn't)

Word Count: 2525

"I just don't understand it!" the first mate angrily threw his hands up in the air. "I just don't understand why Bonnet is dragging us to one of those stupid...fancy people gatherings."

You couldn't help but laugh at such a sight, seeing Izzy Hands so distraught, though his usual cloud of anguish didn't seem to surround him. This was different, something you couldn't exactly place, but it was endearing nonetheless. "A ball, you mean?" your lips curled into a playful smile.

"I don't care what it's called," Izzy grumbled. "All I know is that I don't want to be there."

"It could be fun!" you suggested, your smile growing larger.

"Has Bonnet brainwashed you somehow?" Izzy rolled his eyes, but for just a moment, maybe, you could have sworn you saw a smile on the first mate's visage.

"If worse comes to worse, there'll be plenty of alcohol to drink," you laughed, softly squeezing Izzy's shoulder. Subtle touches like these between the two of you were second nature, almost instinctual, yet you were certain Izzy didn't make much of it and plainly saw them as something friendly. You almost sighed at such a thought.

And perhaps you had your own motives for wanting to drag Israel Hands along to such an event. Perhaps it gave you an excuse to hold him close to you without him suspecting a single thing, just that it was all custom meant to be followed in such a setting. You thought maybe, just maybe, it would be the opportune night to spend some more time with Izzy, just the two of you in the moonlight, dancing and chatting the night away, cheek to cheek...

"Fancy people alcohol," Izzy groaned in response, snapping you out of your daydream, to which luckily, he didn't notice you had slipped into in the first place.

"It's better than nothing," you rolled your eyes playfully. "Now, come on. Bonnet's got some fabrics for us to borrow, he says. I've come to fetch you," you now smiled teasingly.

"Oh, joy!" Izzy exclaimed sarcastically, yet he still followed your lead.

The only reason he was even remotely tolerating the night ahead was to be able to find himself closer to you, away from the chaos of The Revenge and all else it had to offer. Spending a night with you wouldn't be dreadful in the slightest for Izzy, and had you not been attending at all, he wouldn't even hesitate to let Ed and Stede go off to this awful event by themselves. But even Stede knew that your presence was enough to get Izzy to agree to such a thing, and really, what could be more convincing than you?

Before Izzy could comprehend it, your figure was wrapped in an ethereal ensemble. You studied yourself in the mirror, a frown naturally falling upon your face, though it quickly faltered as he came into view.

By the sea gods, you looked astonishing. Izzy already knew you would be the most bewitching of the ball, and that perhaps he would have to compete with other awful suitors of high society to even just get a moment alone with you. He almost became troubled at the thought, but your unmatched beauty was enough to distract him from such a notion. You had taken his breath away and this wasn't exactly a feeling he was used to, though it wasn't one that he disliked. No, not at all. In fact, he could get used to this, and he wanted to. Even though his own reflection stood right before him, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. He never could have fathomed until he met you that someone could be so breathtaking, so...alluring.

But all you were thinking about is how your clothing seemed to accentuate all of the wrong features, in your eyes.

'And the color—it washes me out, doesn't it?' you thought to yourself, almost fighting back tears.

Finally, Izzy spoke, though he immediately regret doing so. "Will you be comfortable?" He almost began to scold himself. 'That's all you have to say? This attractive person is standing right beside you and that's all you can manage to say?'

"Oh, yes. I've got plenty of moving room," you assured him, doing your best to step out of your own head for a moment. You even tried to shoot him a convincing smile. "I'll be just fine."

Finally, your eyes wandered over to his image, instead of focusing either at your own reflection or onto the ground. You felt your face becoming warm as you caught a glimpse of the man before you—how he was transformed, yet, still the Izzy Hands you knew and loved. Only elevated, and even more enchanting than usual. Your jaw almost dropped to the ground.

"What? I look fucking dumb, don't I?" Izzy laughed annoyedly.

"No! No, Izzy, you look..."

Before you could finish your statement, Stede rushed in. "You two ready to go? Oh, look at the two of you! You look divine!"

You looked over at Izzy, sending a supportive, yet spirited smile his way. Izzy couldn't help but return the sentiment as the two of you were ushered off of the ship and into another realm unbeknownst to the both of you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Some of the sweetest melodies you had ever heard began to surround you as you stepped into the ornately decorated room. You could hardly believe how much space there was in just one part of this residence, and that it was dedicated for dancing and other sorts of happenings similar to these. Before you knew it, for just a moment, you succumbed to your wonder of what having a life like this would entail, though you were quickly reminded of your distaste towards it when you saw a woman weeping and being chased out of the room by a man screaming extreme obscenities toward her. You and Izzy slowly looked toward one another in disbelief, the both of you fighting off laughter.

"It's not too late to get out of here," Izzy whispered.

You rolled your eyes with that same familiar grin this action always seemed to come with. "We're hardly even here."

Defeated, Izzy sighed and slumped against a wall, though quickly coming off it as soon as he spotted Stede glaring daggers at him from across the room. Another sigh escaped his lips, and you burst into a fit of laughter, unable to contain yourself. As annoyed as Izzy was at what just happened, your laughter was an antidote, and he was certainly taking it in.

Though, his newfound smile quickly faltered when he noticed a handsome stranger eyeing you from a few feet away. But you didn't even notice that someone else had noticed you—you only cared if the man in front of you had, and he seemed to be occupied by something else.

"Iz?" you asked in confusion. "What is it?"

Without another word, Izzy motioned his head to the side, to which you finally noticed the attention of another that you had captured.

"And?" you shook your head, unsure of what Izzy had been insinuating.

"He wants to dance with you," Izzy pointed out, rolling his eyes without realizing. "And you should have some fun. Don't let me hold you back."

You opened your mouth to speak in protest, but quickly closed it once again. How would you admit, in the midst of a stuffy room with a plethora of people you don't know who are all dancing and speaking at the top of their lungs, that all you had looked forward to this evening was to sharing a dance with Izzy Hands and no one else? That it was the only reason you even considered forcing yourself into an outfit that made you feel bad about yourself, even worse than you already do, and surrounding yourself with a million strangers whilst doing it? The thought alone sounded like a nightmare, but with Izzy by your side, it sounded like a dream come true. But Izzy was pushing you toward this stranger before you could comprehend it, and then you watched Izzy's figure disappear slowly into the distance as you were whisked away.

"I've never seen you here before," the stranger pointed out. "And if I had, I think I'd remember a beautiful person such as yourself."

These words made your insides twist. Your companion spoke with sincerity, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it. 'He's just being polite,' you told yourself, brushing it off.

"It's been a few years," you lied, not wanting to blow your cover, or especially Stede's cover, as you were sure he wasn't exactly welcomed back into an environment such as this. "I don't usually speak to many."

"Well, isn't it my lucky day then?" he laughed. "No one here even compares to you. You are something special. What did you say your name was?"

But before the perhaps unlucky stranger knew it, you were nowhere to be found. You kept running until your environs became darker, and the moon was your only source of light. You leaned against the railing of a balcony, your vision blurred by tears. You flinched upon feeling a hand on your shoulder, but quickly relaxed once you noticed out of your periphery that it was none other than Izzy's touch.

"Did he offend you? I swear, I'll have his head before he can even fucking think of using it again—"

"No, no. He didn't. It's fine, really," you shrugged, blinking back tears to the best of your ability. But even the darkness of the night failed to hide your misery. Izzy softened upon noticing your state.

"What is it?" he asked, concern dripping from his voice as he looked at you intently. You stared at your hands gripping the railing, but you quickly tore your eyes away from that sight and stared out into the night.

"I—This is why I didn't want to come tonight!" you exclaimed.

"You—but you were so—"

"Excited? Yeah, right," you laughed sadly, shaking your head.

"What is it?" Izzy repeated, worry written all over his face. "Are you sure I don't need to behead anyone?"

Another laugh escaped you. "No, Izzy. He—he said I was beautiful. That's not a crime."

"He wasn't wrong," Izzy shrugged, a small smile making its way onto his face. With this, you couldn't help but meet Izzy's eyes, and you couldn't help but return a smile. Though quickly, it vanished, and your original demeanor overtook you once again.

"He was though," you protested. "This is why I don't like coming to these things. Squeezing myself into these clothes."

"I know these clothes are a bit ridiculous," Izzy laughed. "But yet you still manage to be so...beautiful."

Your heart began to do pirouettes inside your chest. For once in your life, part of you believed such a statement could be directed toward yourself. But Izzy could see the plagued expression on your face.

"You don't believe me?"

You shook your head as you finally allowed tears to fall down your face and drip onto your chest. Izzy frowned and took a few steps closer to you so as to gently wipe away your tears with his thumb, though his hand lingered for a moment longer, caressing your cheek as he was about to speak.

"You could be covered in dirt and I'd still find you beautiful," Izzy assured you. "You know, when I first saw you, I knew even then that you were. And you become more so every single day. You are the most enchanting person I've ever crossed paths with and laid my eyes upon. And there's so many things about the world I find are awful to have to experience and look at, but not you. You're the opposite of everything that's wrong with the world."

Sobs escaped your chest as you fell into Izzy's arms, to which he instinctively caught you, engulfing you carefully in his arms. He softly wrapped his fingers in your hair as he held you. 'I am holding the world in my arms right now,' he thought to himself, and thank the sea gods your face was buried into the crook of his neck and you couldn't see the grin that conquered his lips.

As for you, you never believed it when anyone else said these sorts of things to you. You found it impossible to believe these things about yourself; there were even days where you'd purposefully avoid any sort of reflective surface just to ensure that you don't break down. Sometimes, you couldn't even bear to look at yourself. But hearing Izzy declaring all of this to you—for the first time, perhaps you would actually be able to believe it.

Your silence made beads of sweat form atop Izzy's temple, but he didn't dare let you go to wipe them away. You clung onto him tighter, which only thawed Izzy's heart even more. He couldn't believe all that he just said, even though it was all true, and your lack of a response made his heart race even more.

"You are beautiful," Izzy repeated as he melted into your embrace, and embraced the shared silence. Something about it was comforting in a way he had never experienced before. If he could, he would exist in this moment forever.

Finally, you slowly pulled away, though your hands still clung onto the first mate's arms, and your faces were a short distance away from one another. At the same time, the two of you leaned in to close said distance between the two of you, and all bits of yearning, desire, love, and desperation poured out into this moment. Even without Izzy's words, he had already managed to make you feel lovely in every way even just by him being around. He was the one person who managed to help you see what was so amazing about yourself. You quickly melted into the sudden collision of your lips and he kissed you with a fervor that you had been craving from him for as long as you could remember. You smiled against his lips, and once air became scarce, the two of you simultaneously sought it. Once you both pulled apart for air, a collective joyous laugh filled both of your ears.

"I only wanted to come to this stupid thing because you'd be here," you admitted, and you were sure your cheeks were as red as the roses in the garden that surrounded you.

Izzy couldn't help but smile. "I wasn't going to come until Bonnet mentioned you would be. I meant what I said, you know. You are beautiful, and I'm sorry, but you're fucking dumb if you don't see that."

You threw your head back as you laughed before meeting Izzy's gaze once again. "You are so beautiful," Izzy repeated once again, all teasing aside to show his sincerity. You reached for his hand and squeezed it tenderly as the two of you looked out into nighttime, but all Izzy could focus on was how even more ravishing you looked as the moon illuminated your face.

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #ofmd season 2 #x reader #izzy hands my beloved #izzy hands x reader #fanfic #ofmd izzy hands #renew as a crew #guys i still have hope for a season 3 because of the petitions and renew as a crew stuff on twitter okay #there is still hope #or else i will cry every day #requests are open #request #please request #anon request #im back bitches #and i missed you all so much

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musings-of-a-rose · 10 months

Text

I'll Always Wait For You - Chapter 18 (Final Chapter)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word Count: 6900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: Well, this is it. The final chapter. I’m feeling very emotional about this one, as these 2 are my babies. This fic was the second thing I ever started writing AND my first series. I started it in November of 2021 and now I’m ending it in June of 2023. Thank you to everyone who has read it, left comments, reblogged it, talked about it off of Tumblr (I am still FLOORED that this has happened!). This is what keeps people creating. Even if you think you have nothing important to say, or if all you say is just a keyboard mash of letters, I can promise you ALL of it means the world to us. So I dedicate this fic to you, the reader. You’re the real star here and I can’t express my love enough. If you’re ever wanting more, I am always down to write one shots, drabbles, character insights, what ifs, etc for this fic (and any of my others).

Now excuse me while I go cry

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**Reader is not described

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<<Chapter 17

“You look so beautiful!” Olivia gushes over you after she tucks the last braid into place, watching you stand and do a little twirl in your white dress.

“You think so? It’s not too much?”

“Too much? Girl, it’s your wedding day. You can’t be too much!”

Smiling, you smooth out your dress as you take in your reflection. You’re marrying Frankie. Your Frankie. Frankie, whom you’ve been in love with since you were 19. This is real. It’s happening.

Ok, technically, in the eyes of the law, it happened a few weeks ago at a courthouse. But there’s something special about gathering in front of your close friends and family, wearing a beautiful dress, and getting to repeat those vows in front of everyone. A soft knock at the door brings you out of your head and Olivia walks across the room to peak her head outside.

“Mosa, it’s the photographer. Are you ready for the first look?”

“It’s HERmosa!” Frankie’s muffled yell comes from behind the door and Olivia smirks.

One last glance in the mirror at your reflection and you nod, turning your back towards the door. You hear some shuffling as Frankie is ushered in backwards and the photographers get into place.

“Turn in 3..2..1..Turn!” Olivia says and then steps back.

You turn, your eyes finding his almost immediately, as if they were drawn there. He’s dressed in a tailored suit, fitting his form perfectly, his grandfather’s kerchief folded and poking from the pocket. But what you’re really interested in is his face, his eyes growing wider and glossier the longer he looks at you.

“Hermosa, you…you’re beautiful,” Frankie says, awestruck.

“You’re just figuring that out?” You say behind a smile.

“No, I mean I always knew but…wow.”

He walks up to you and cups your cheek, running his thumb across it as Olivia hisses something about makeup from the corner of the room. But you couldn’t care less. Frankie was here, marrying you. This is all you’ve dreamt of for well over 10 years. A tear runs down Frankie’s cheek and you wipe it away.

“Are you ok?”

He sniffs and smiles. “I’m the best I’ve felt in a long time. I just…I only wish we would’ve done this sooner.”

“We did. We got married in the courthouse, remember?”

He smiles at you. “I meant more that we never…that we stayed together since that first kiss.”

“Me too. But we can’t dwell on what-ifs. We can only think about the here-and-nows.”

Frankie tips your chin up and presses a light kiss to your lips, the clicks from the camera going crazy. You pose for photos for several minutes before Olivia ushers everyone from the room, winking at you when she says she’ll give you 10 minutes of alone time before she came to get you. The second the door closes, Frankie pushes his tongue in your mouth, pulling you as close as he can.

“I can’t mess this dress up, Frankie,” You say pouting.

“That’s ok. I can work with that.” Frankie grips your hips and spins you around, bending you over the back of the chair and clasping a hand to your mouth as he takes you, your hands desperately trying to reach behind you to pull him in closer.

15 minutes later, Olivia knocks on the door and enters hesitantly, smirking when she sees you smoothing down your dress, Frankie’s face more pink than when she had left.

“It’s time,” she says, tossing her thumb over her shoulder and looking at Frankie pointedly. He turns to you and kisses your cheek.

“See you out there?”

“Raging sharks couldn’t keep me away.”

He kisses you once more before Olivia starts clearing her throat. When he straightens up a curl falls on his forehead and you softly push it back to where it was, feeling Frankie’s eyes on you the entire time. He opens the door and looks outside befire turning back to you.

“Your gift is here.”

“You don’t have to get me a gift, Frank-”

Santi walks through the door, dressed in a nice tux and smiling from ear to ear. You hadn’t seen him since the day he confessed his love for you and you had missed him terribly. Frankie was your best friend, but Santi was a close second and you’d hated the idea of getting married without him there.

“Santi?”

“Hey, Hermosa.”

You catch a glimpse of Frankie’s smile before he closes the door as you wrap your arms around Santi, feeling him squeeze you back just as hard. Separating a few moments later, you dab under your eyes as you try to choke back tears.

“If I smudge my makeup, Olivia may kill me.”

Santi laughs. “She’s Benny’s girl, right? She’s perfect for him.”

“She’s really great…but how are you here?”

“I uh…Frankie called me a few weeks ago and told me…well, everything. I’m sorry I was screening my calls, Hermosa. I just…I needed time.”

“I understand. But…you’re here now! Are you ok?”

“I’m doing alright, Hermosa. Actually, pretty good.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about her.”

He laughs. “I will. But uh, hey - do you need a Man of Honor? If…if that would…be ok?”

“I would love to have to as my Man of Honor! But…Benny already agreed and I don’t know how to tell him -”

Santi waves his hand. “Benny was in on this. He knows and already said it was ok with him as long as you wanted it.”

Your eyes go wide. “Wait. Benny knew you were coming and he didn’t tell me?”

“Yeah.”

You gasp. “That bitch!”

Santi laughs his hardest yet. “So…”

“Let’s go, Man of Honor.”

The next thing you know, Frankie’s kissing you, everyone whooping and cheering, Aurelia throwing more flower petals into the air as they announce “Mr. and Mrs. Morales.” The rest of the night was like a blur, between photos and eating, first dances and cake, you barely had time to sit until things started to wind down long into the night. When you tried to help clean up, Olivia literally slapped your hand away and glared at you.

“Absolutely not. Benny!” He walks over and play groans when she says she’s recruited him to help clean up. She pretends to twist his nipple when he starts to complain and he yelps, high pitched and smiling as they play fight for a few moments before he gives in, grabbing plates and stacking them to wash.

Frankie looks exhausted and he’s limping a little, so you beg him to not carry you over the threshold. “You did that when we got courthouse married.”

“Yeah but-”

“No. I’m not having you throw your hip out on our wedding day. Not from this.”

He chokes and smiles, giving in, a dark twinkle in his eye. “Alright. If you insist.” But by the time you’d made it upstairs and gotten your clothes off, both of you were too exhausted to do much of anything aside from a shower and literally fall into bed. But Frankie made up for lost time the next morning, waking you with what he claims was already your third orgasm of the day, his curls mussed up from being buried between your legs. He presses his body to yours, swallowing your whimpers before he adds his own, hips shaking with release.

You spend your honeymoon at the Miller family cabin upstate, the only clothing you wear being one of Frankie’s shirts and sometimes his hat, which drives him wild. He celebrates another sobriety milestone while there, smiling wide at your praise. When you get back home, you can see he has an extra pep in his step, always a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, always wanting to touch you, whether a hand to your wrist, a touch to your lower back, or a smack on your ass, chuckling as you yelp and smack him back. When you ask him why he looks exceptionally happy, he credits you. “I finally got the girl of my dreams, the love of my life.”

—-

Frankie and you settle into a comfortable routine. You were no strangers to living together, the adjustment taking no time at all. Life goes on as normal, except now, you get to live it with Frankie, no longer separated by a stupid argument, misconceptions, or a bitch of an ex wife. This was exactly where you were meant to be.

Several months later, Frankie follows you into the family restroom at Target, slinging your purse over his shoulder as he rifles through the bag of stuff you’d just purchased.

“Pink dye first, right?” He asks, raising his eyebrows as he looks at you.

“Yeah. They’re more accurate supposedly.”

Frankie tears open the box and studies the directions, as if he hadn’t done this several times already. He opens one of the sticks and hands it to you, turning around to give you a little privacy.

“Start the timer,” you say as you zip up your pants. Frankie hits go on his timer and turns to face you, a pregnancy stick held face down in your hand. He can see your nerves, your worry and concern on your face.

“It’ll be ok, Hermosa.”

“Yeah I know. But what if it isn’t?”

“It will be-”

“We’ve been trying for months, Frankie. I know the OB said to try for a year before fertility testing but-”

Frankie walks up to you and pulls you to him, applying a gentle pressure as he hugs you close, kissing the side of your head. “If it’s negative, then we keep trying, ok? It hasn’t been a year yet and sometimes these things take time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Will told me that it took them months to conceive Liam. And they were trying too. Just…breathe. In….out…”

You breathe with him for a few breaths. “You always were annoyingly calm in a crisis.”

He smiles. “Wouldn’t help to freak out behind the joystick.”

You open your mouth to reply, but his timer cuts you off. Your mouth jams shut, nerves taking over your body as Frankie holds your gaze.

“If it says negative, we can keep trying. Remember that. I love you no matter what, Hermosa.” You nod, taking a deep breath. “Ready?”

“Ready.” You flip the test over and look, 2 bright pink lines staring back at you. Tears immediately fall as you laugh, turning the test around to show Frankie, who yells, grabbing you up in his arms and hugging you tightly. He kisses you for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I fucking love you, Hermosa.”

“I love you, Frankie.”

He yanks the door open and whoops loudly, people turning to look at him as you follow him out of the bathroom.

“I’m going to be a father again!” He pumps his fists in the air, smiling from ear to ear as people cheer, clapping and congratulating you as they finish their purchases, one older couple handing you a gift card on their way out, telling you to spoil that baby.

—-

Frankie was hesitant at first with your pregnancy, despite being so supportive and actually wanting a child with you. A couple months in, you finally ask him why he seems afraid to touch you, that you won’t break. He finally confesses to you that when Elizabeth was pregnant, she did nothing but yell at him, belittling him and wouldn’t let him touch her at all, not her belly, not even to rub her back or feet. She called him horrible names and would blame it on the hormones. Your heart breaks for him and you have no words. Well, you have words but they aren’t nice ones. Instead, you sit next to him on the bed, leaning back onto one arm, and take his hand with the other, gently placing it on your lower belly. His eyes light up as he looks at your tiny for the moment bump, tears welling in his eyes as he brings his other hand up to take the other side. He pulls your shirt up just enough to see your belly skin, giving it a tiny kiss.

“Hey, little one. You grow strong in there and don’t give your mom too much of a hard time.”

From then on, Frankie is all in. Whatever you need, he gets it, even if it’s a ridiculous request at 3am. He’s constantly touching your growing belly, talking to it as much as you do. He finds Aurelia’s old crib in the attic, a few boxes of baby stuff and a bassinet up there as well. He sets up the nursery under your instruction, letting Aurelia help with the decorations when she comes on the weekends. You decide to wait to find out the sex of the baby, thinking it would be something fun to do. So instead you call it “Bean”.

“Think Bean will like this?” Frankie asks, pointing to a baby swing.

“They might, but Frankie, that swing is nearly $150. We can’t afford that.”

His shoulder’s slump but he agrees. “Maybe we can check the thrift shop. It’s the one thing Will didn’t toss our way.”

He was there for all of the classes too, birthing ones, breathing ones, even the hypnobirthing ones. He signed up for a “birthing partners” class, learning the best ways to support you not just during labor and delivery, but during the 4th trimester, or immediately postpartum. He helped you practice your meditations, making sure you had everything you needed and that you remember to take your prenatal and drink enough water.

When you’re 8 months pregnant, getting winded from walking down the hall, Frankie gets a call from his boss at Flyboyz on his day off, asking him to come in. He grabs his hat and gives you a quick kiss before leaving, reminding you to drink water. He’d been working a lot lately, trying to make extra money so he can stay home with you and the baby for the first month. You’re not sure how long he’ll be gone, so you plop yourself down on your bed, pulling over the basket of baby clothes that still have to be sorted and you get to work, separating the sizes, long sleeve vs short, nightgowns from onesies. A couple hours later, the front door opens and Frankie slams it behind him, the picture frames rattling on the walls. You set aside the footie pajamas you were folding and go to stand up, but Frankie comes storming into the bedroom before you can move, anger coming off of him in waves.

“Frankie?”

He yanks his hat from his head, tossing it onto his dresser, knocking some things off of it. “I can’t fucking believe her!”

Struggling a little, you manage to get up and cross the room to him, placing your hand on his mid back. He recoils, anger flashing in his eyes but it’s not directed at you. Unsure of what happened, you know he needs to calm down before he can tell you. You grab an ice cube out of your glass of water and turn to Frankie.

“Give me your hand.”

He looks at you, eyebrow raised. “What?”

“Just do it.”

He stares at you for a moment before shoving his hand out. You flip it palm up, opening his fingers and place the ice cube in his palm. He yelps, but you hold his hand firmly so he won’t drop the ice.

“What the fuck, Hermosa?”

“The cold will help reset your nervous system.”

“I don’t think- it’s too fucking cold, Hermosa.”

“Just another few seconds.”

His chest, which had been heaving a moment ago, has slowed down, the anger still there but at a manageable level. You tip his hand and grab the falling ice into your own palm, putting it in the sink in the bathroom before coming back to the bed and trying to sit on it. Frankie is there, taking your hand and helping you into bed. He goes to stand but you squeeze his hand and pull him until he sighs, sitting on the edge, his shoulders slumped.

“How do you feel?”

“Fucking angry, but…the edge is gone. Ice…who fucking knew?”

“So..may I ask what happened?”

His eyes darken with repressed outrage. “I thought I was getting extra work. Instead, my pilot’s license has been suspended, pending a review.”

You sit up quickly, eyes going wide. “What??”

He nods, his jaw clenching. “Apparently, someone made a claim that I was using when I flew some clients and now they have to investigate.”

You knew that Frankie had been clean over a year, that he wasn’t using at all. “Oh, Frankie. Wait..who made the claim?”

He looks at you. “It was anonymous but I know it was Elizabeth.” He says her name with absolute disgust and hate that you nearly pull back from him.

“Elizabeth? Would she-”

“Oh come on, Hermosa. You don’t think it was her? I’ve been clean for well over a year. She’s the only one who would have known that I used that would make claims.”

“What about Rick?”

Frankie shakes his head. “Nah. He left Flyboyz while you were…out of town. I told him he had to leave or I would report him for selling. He started to threaten to bring me down with him, but then remembered you were…not in my life and he could see the rock bottom in me, I guess. So he backed off, just left to go elsewhere. There’s no way it’s him. It’s her. It’s always her causing shit. I’m so fucking sick of it!”

Placing a hand on his back, you start to rub it, adding in little scratches here and there like he likes. “She is a bitch.”

“I just got my license back. I worked so hard on that.” He puts his face in his hands, resting his elbows on his legs. You scoot towards him wrapping your arm around him.

“I know you did. But you said suspended? That doesn’t mean revoked, right?”

He shakes his head. “No, it doesn’t.”

“So…what does it mean?”

“It means, I can’t fly until it’s reinstated. I have to pee in a cup at random times during the week for 6 months to prove I’m clean before they will lift the suspension.”

“Well there you go!”

He looks up at you, his eyebrows pulling together. “There I go, what? We can’t afford for me to not have this income, Hermosa.”

“We’ll be ok-”

“You’re about to have a baby. Your income won’t happen for a bit, and that’s fine, but we needed this extra money and now I can’t provide that. All because of my bitch of an ex!”

“Frankie, we’ll be ok. If we have to borrow money, we can.”

“I’m not borrowing money.”

“Fine. Then I will borrow it.”

“No, I’ll…I’ll figure something out.”

“Frankie-”

“Just…can we just stop for tonight? I’m trying to process this.”

You open your mouth to argue but then see the exhausted look on his face. “Sure. Why don’t you come talk to us? That always makes you feel better.”

Leaning back against the headboard, you watch as Frankie scoots up the bed, getting level with your belly as you turn on your side so you’re not being squished. He chats to the baby for a while, about everything and nothing and by the time he’s done, his shoulders are relaxed and he’s not as angry anymore.

Elizabeth never fully admits to being the one to make the claim, but you see the look on her face through the car window when you make your next exchange for Aurelia after Frankie confronts her and you know she did it. There’s nothing you can say or do except wait it out. Frankie getting his license back will be all the revenge you’ll need.

—---- (Skip to the next line if you don’t want to read about labor. It’s not terribly graphic at all, but I know it’s not everyone’s thing)-------

“I never thought I’d have to beg you to have sex with me!” You stomp your foot, furious that Frankie won’t follow the doctor’s advice.

It had been a few weeks since his license was revoked and you were a week past your due date and not happy about it.

“Hermosa, I don’t-”

“Want to hurt me, I know, I know. But the midwife even said that sex is the best way to induce labor because of the prostaglandins in your semen.”

“You make it sound so sexy.”

“Frankie,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a deep sigh. “I am the size of a house. I am miserable and sweaty and I haven’t seen my feet in months and I just want to have this baby already. If it’s my belly, I can turn around-”

“You are fucking gorgeous.”

“Then please?”

Frankie studies you for a long moment, his shoulders starting to slump and that’s when you knew you had him. “Alright, fine. We can try it. But we’re going slow, taking our time, ok?”

“No arguments here.”

Contractions started within an hour of Frankie cumming inside of you. You weren’t sure at first what you were feeling, but it sort of felt like a bad period cramp, so you assumed this must be it. Frankie timed them all for you, helping you breathe as they got more intense and closer together, and when they were close enough apart, Frankie helped you to his truck and drove to the hospital. In between contractions, you watched him as he drove, expertly winding his way through traffic, a look of focus on his face, a little furrow between his brow the only indication that this was not a normal day behind the wheel. How lucky you were to have this man, who can be calm in stressful situations, want to spend his life with you.

“What?” Frankie glances sideways at you before turning back to the road.

“You’re cute when you focus.”

A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Remember how cute I am when you’re in transition.”

Before you know it, you’re in a labor and delivery room, barely spending any time in triage before they whisked you away. Hospitals can be a frustrating place to have a baby. Each nurse walks in and tells you to rest between contractions, try to get some sleep when you can, but then a new nurse comes along within an hour, always rousing you from sleep to take your blood pressure or put their fingers where you didn’t want them. You’d finally had enough of the latter and told a nurse to kindly fuck off, and denied internal exams unless it was a medical emergency. Frankie was by your side the entire labor, putting counter pressure on your hips when you needed it, pulling your hair from your face, sneaking you snacks because they forbid food and you said you’d chomp off your own fingers if they didn’t let you eat. Transition was hard, but all of a sudden, you knew it was time to push. Following your body, you get on all fours, taking your calming breaths, but then realizing that Frankie was not next to you. Turning your head, you see him, wide eyed and backing towards the door.

“I’ll just-” He points his thumb over his shoulder at the door.

“No, please. I need you here with me.” Another contraction has you breathing again and it’s a minute before he replies.

“You want me here?”

“Yes. I need you, Frankie.”

His eyes start to water over and it doesn’t occur to you then, but later that night it’l come to you - he wasn’t trying to dodge out of the delivery. He was having a flashback to when Elizabeth kicked him out of the room right when Aurelia was making her way into the world, and your heart hurt all over again. Frankie is at your side in an instant, turning to yell for the nurse who had surprisingly not come in for some random check.

“No time!” You yell, letting out a low groan, a technique you learned to help move baby down and out. Frankie’s face slides into focus mode and he moves behind you, just in time to catch the baby as it comes sliding out. He gathers the baby up, holding it close as it screams into the world. The nurse comes running in then, having heard the baby crying as you turn onto your back, arms outstretched to hold your baby, skin to skin.

“Baby is here! I didn’t even know you were transitioning! You were pretty quiet.”

The nurse bustles around and does her thing while Frankie transfers the baby to your bare chest. Tears stream down your face as you look at Frankie, who has tears of his own. He kisses the top of your head. “I am so proud of you, Hermosa.”

A few moments pass, the baby calming against your chest. “Hey Frankie? Is the baby a boy or girl?”

He slaps his hand to his forehead. “I forgot to look! I was so focused on catching the baby and whether it was breathing and not dropping it that I don’t think I looked! Here.” He lifts the hip of the baby and smiles.

“We have a son. I have a son!”

—---No more labor/delivery details—---

Luis Christian Francisco Morales was born perfect. 10 little fingers and 10 little toes, skin glowing. He was the perfect combination of you both, although you say he favors Frankie mostly.

You both settle into your roles as new parents, a lot of it being new to Frankie too, since Elizabeth had denied him so much. He was determined to not miss out on things this time, making sure you both had everything you needed and watching Luis when he stayed awake between feeds so you could have a nap. Aurelia cries the first time she sees Luis, big ugly sobs, and when Frankie finally calms her down enough to ask what’s wrong, she simply says “He…he’s…s-so so cute!” She happily takes up the mantle of “Big Sister” when she’s with you. Once, you wake from your nap only to find all 3 of them sleeping, Luis curled up on Frankie’s broad chest, Aurelia tucked onto his other side. You snap a photo and then quietly leave the room, taking the time to actually shower.

About a month in, Frankie comes back from dropping Aurelia with her mom. His eyebrows were pulled together in confusion as he stares down at his phone.

“Everything ok?” You ask, shifting the bottle you were feeding Luis with so it was a better angle.

“Yeah. Uh…Santi just texted me.”

“Oh yeah? Everything ok?”

“Uh..he says congrats on Luis, that he’s the cutest, and that he was out of service for a bit and he’s sorry he didn’t text earlier.”

“That’s ok. I know he’s busy.”

Frankie is quiet for a moment. “He offered me some work.”

“Work?”

“Well, not just me. Benny, Will, and Tom too.”

“What kind of work?” When he doesn’t answer, you look up at him. He kicks his shoes off and sits next to you on the couch.

“Consulting.” His eyes don’t meet yours, focusing instead on his fingers, where he starts to pick at the skin around his nails.

“Consulting.” You say in disbelief.

“Yeah.”

“Wait, like a mission?”

Frankie shrugs. “No? I mean, it’s just scoping out a place and looking for weaknesses. We give our report to the government he works with and then come back. Easy peasy.”

“If it’s so easy peasy, why aren’t you looking at me?”

He takes a deep breath and let’s it out slowly before looking at you. “It’s for a week. Just trying to find holes in a fence.”

“And why do they need you?”

“They need a pilot.”

“You don’t have your license.”

“It probably doesn’t matter over there.”

“Frankie, I don’t-”

“I’ts $17k, Hermosa. We need the money.”

“I don’t like it. So much can go wrong. Who’s house is it? Definitely no one that’s a stand up citizen. What happens if they find you first? No, I don’t like it.”

“Just..he’s coming to town tomorrow and we’re going to chat about it at Benny’s fight. Let me ask some more questions.”

“I don’t like it, Frankie.”

“I know. Just..let me talk to Pope.”

—----

It’s late the next night and you start to pace the floor of your bedroom, wondering when he’ll be back. He’d texted you to tell you Benny had won the fight and they were stopping at the bar for a quick drink before Olivia takes him home to play nurse.

That had been 2 hours ago.

The door finally opens downstairs and you quietly make your way to the kitchen, where you were hearing Frankie move around.

“Did I wake you?”

You shake your head. “I was awake. Luis is asleep.”

“Good, good. He go down ok?”

“Yeah, actually in his bassinet, but Frankie? How did it go?”

He gets a glass of water, chugging half of it before setting the glass down on the counter. “It’s just a recce. No live fire.”

“There’s a possibility of people shooting at you??”

“I mean, we are casing a place. It’s always possible if guards see you or-”

“No.”

He looks at you. “Hermosa, we need the money.”

“No.”

“I don’t have a job. We need this.”

“No money is worth your life, Frankie. None of your lives.”

“I won’t be in any major danger. I’ve done worse.”

“Yeah but you didn’t have a family then.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No. No, I don’t like this, no.”

Frankie puts his hands on his hips, cocking one hip back as he looks at you. “We’re behind on bills.”

“So? I’ll borrow some money and you can stay.”

“Hermosa-”

“Or I can get another job? A new client. I can-”

“You just had a baby, so no.”

“Then I can-”

“Hermosa.” He says it firmly, that hip still cocked back as his eyes find yours, resolve in them.

“You’ve…you’ve already said yes, haven’t you?”

His tongue comes out to swipe across his bottom lip. “We leave Thursday.”

Silence stretches between you both as you stare at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you made that decision without me.”

“I made the decision for us. We need the money.”

“Oh, fuck you and the money! I said I could borrow it. You’re just being stubborn!”

“I’m taking responsibility! We needed money and this just happens to come our way? I have to take it.”

“So you’re saying it’s fate that Santi texted you to lure you down there with the promise of $17k? You’re telling me that it’s just consulting and nothing else? Can you promise me that?”

He shrugs. “That was the original deal.”

“But can you promise me?”

He studies you for a moment, his eyes lingering on yours. “I’m going, Hermosa.”

And with that, you turn on your heel and walk out of the kitchen, closing the door behind you, wishing you could slam it.

The next couple days were torture. You kept trying to convince Frankie to stay, convince all of them to stay. You didn’t want any of them going. But they all said the same thing that Frankie said. “It’s just consulting.” Thursday morning, Tom comes to pick up Frankie pretty early. He leans over to kiss you in bed and you take one more shot at trying to get him to stay. Your fingers wind into his curls as you pull him to you, deepening the chaste kiss he had started.

“You can still stay,” you say, your voice barely a whisper.

“I’ll be back in a week, Hermosa. I love you.”

Tears streaming down your face, you reply. “I love you too. Please don’t die. Don’t any of you die.”

Frankie chuckles. “We’ll be fine. I’ll call you in a couple of days once we’re settled, ok?”

—----

Except, Frankie did not call in a couple of days. Neither did any of the others, nor had they reached out to Stacy, Molly, or Olivia. There was no one to call, no contact. They needed it that way for whatever consultation they were on. Stacey brought the kids over and Olivia came too, all of you opting to stay together and support each other at least during the day. As the few days stretched into a week, which stretched into nearly another, Olivia split her time between you and Stacy’s, offering to watch the kids so you each could have a moment to yourselves. She was at Stacy’s tonight, Luis snuggled and tucked in beside you as you channel surf the tv, landing on nothing in particular. It was day 10 and about 2am so all of the infomercials were on. You landed on one for some random kitchen gadget when your phone rings. You jump, grabbing for your phone to quickly hit the silent button before it wakes Luis. It was an unknown number, but definitely foreign and so you pick up right away.

“Frankie?”

“Hermosa,” he breathes a sigh of relief, his voice wavering on the last syllable of your name.

“Are you ok? Is everyone alright? Fuck, I’ve been terrified out of my mind.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. Things got…out of hand. I can explain more when I get home.”

“I understand. But you’re ok?”

“I’m ok. A little banged up but ok.”

“Everyone else?”

The way he’s silent has your throat closing up, making it difficult to speak. “Frankie?”

“It’s Tom.”

While Tom and you never were best friends, there’s no way you would’ve wished death on the man, nor would you have wanted to have his girls without a father.

—----

Frankie’s mom takes Luis while you drive to the airport, there to pick up Frankie as Olivia and Stacy were going to get Benny and Will. You had experienced all of the emotions these past 10 days, mostly anger and fear, but when you heard his voice, a part of you caved. You just wanted him home and were grateful that he was alive.

You spot Benny first, towering over a majority of the crowd as people file out security and head towards baggage claim. Then you see it - a dark blue standard heating oil cap bobbing next to Benny and suddenly, you’re running, pushing people out of the way as you run towards him, Frankie seeing you at the last moment, dropping his bag to gather you in his arms, burying his face in your hair. Olivia and Stacy copy your actions, Will hissing when Stacy throws her arms around him. He mutters “I’m ok.” before pulling her to him. Pulling back, you look up into Frankie’s black brown eyes, taking in all the features of his face, his laugh lines, the spot where his one dimple pops up, the fact that he had the audacity to shave his beard.

“You shaved,” you said simply, running a finger along his jawline.

“Yeah. But I’ll grow it back just for you.”

His lips crash to yours, his hands cupping the sides of your face as you press your body against his, fingers twisting in his shirt.

“I’m still mad at you,” you breathe out between kisses.

“Fair enough.”

Hugs were exchanged all around before everyone went to their homes. On the drive home, Frankie tells you everything, how it was just a consult but then they decided to try and do it themselves, how it would’ve all been fine if they hadn’t missed their window, or if Tom had listened when he said it was too much weight for the helicopter.

“Wait..you crashed?”

“Yeah. It was just a little crash.”

“Frankie!”

“It’s me. I landed us…mostly fine. We all walked away.”

He explains about the money and the people from the village, and how they had to trek up the fucking Andes mountains and down the other side. How a young man from the village had wanted revenge and got it, dying himself in the process. How they carried Tom down the side of the mountain, leaving a ton of money there, only to make it to safety and come back with a new chopper to get the money and safely make it back in a whole other country, which is where he called you from. By the end of the story you’re silent, tears quietly falling down your face as you realize how easily they all could’ve died on the side of those mountains. How one of them did.

“We each put about $5mil in a trust fund for Tom’s girls, made sure Molly was taken care of. It’s what Tom would’ve wanted and it’s…it’ll never be enough.”

“Hey,” you squeeze his thigh and he looks at you, tears on his cheeks. “You are not to blame. Every one of you knew what you were doing, knew there were risks. And while I can’t say who shot first as I wasn’t there, Frankie, it was self defense. And, I’m sorry, but knowing you and knowing Tom? I’d bet money on him shooting first.”

Frankie nods. “Yeah I guess so…. are you mad at me still?”

“I was all prepared to be so pissed at you, but honestly? I’m just glad to have you here and alive.”

Frankie spends the next hour between your legs and you spend the hour after that washing his hair and tending to his arguably minor wounds. Once you were clean and dressed, you made him something to eat, as you’d have to go get Luis shortly. When you set his glass of water down, he grips your wrist, pulling you into his lap.

“How are you feeling? Do you need to call your sponsor?”

He shakes his head. “Surprisingly, no. I think I’m just so grateful to be alive. And there’s one more thing.”

“What?” You ask nervously.

Frankie leans in closer, speaking low in your ear. “We got the rest of the money.”

“The $17k?” You said stupidly.

Frankie smiles and shakes his head. “A lot more than $17k.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“Millions, Hermosa. Each. Millions. We’re set for life, as are Luis and Aurelia.”

“Can we stay here?”

Frankie chuckles. “What?”

“I don’t want some giant mansion. I want to stay here. In our house.”

Frankie smiles and kisses you lightly. “We can do whatever you want to.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Besides take care of my family?”

“Besides that.”

“Once I get my license reinstated, I want to start my business.” His eyes light up as he talks about it, how he had already looked into getting retired choppers, and had gathered up some possible contacts, even scouted out some property. The only thing that had stopped him was the money, which was no longer an issue.

—----

6 months later, Frankie’s license gets reinstated, the owner clapping him on the shoulder and apologizing for everything. A month later, Frankie opens Chopperz, his veteran owned and operated helicopter tour business. It’s a instant success - apparently people really want to experience flying in various retired military equipment being flown by actual veterans. He even has repeat customers, although a lot of them are women and you catch more than one of them blushing when he talks to them.

Will and Stacy build a new house, much bigger to fit their expanding family, ecstatic that they were finally having a girl. He quits giving speeches almost immediately, staying home with his family and helping Frankie out when he needs it.

Benny and Olivia confessed that they had actually gotten married the day after Benny’s last fight, not able to wait any longer. When he came home, they took off to travel the world while their dream house was being built just down the road from Frankie and Will.

Santi went to Australia to find Yovanna and her brother, following them around until they got settled. He and Yovanna stayed together for a while, and he took some time for himself, wandering the world to see things when he wasn’t in a uniform. He eventually came back, building a house down the road from Frankie and the Millers. But to his first get together with everyone, he brought a girl, which wouldn’t have surprised anyone, but you could see the way he looked at her, constantly touching her lightly, pressing kisses to her head, shoulder, lips, anywhere he could. And she was doing the same, her eyes lighting up every time they looked at each other, so when you asked him later, away from everyone else, he scratches the back of his neck and admits that he thinks she’s the one, that she gets him, understands him, and doesn’t give a flying fuck about his money, which she didn’t even know about until now.

Frankie and you were finally happy, after all these years. Elizabeth finally stopped her shit, leaving you and Frankie to be happy and only communicating when it regards Aurelia. Instead of moving, you decide to expand your house, adding another couple of bedrooms because you want to eventually expand your family. Frankie is beyond happy, smiling at Luis and Aurelia as they run around their new treehouse in the backyard, feeling you wrap your arms around him from behind, kissing his broad back before moving to stand next to him, his arm around your shoulder as you both watch your kids.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, turning your head up to him.

“How happy I am. How I wish we had started this all sooner, that it didn’t take such a shitty road to get here, and that it didn’t take us this long.”

You reach up and cup his face, pulling him to you as you kiss him, his soft lips lightly nibbling at yours.

“I’ll always wait for you, Frankie.”

—----

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fluffansmut-old · 1 year

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Hope you're not over run with requests I really love your writing. I was hoping you could do something a little differently like eddie/reader are dating and his friend who's had a crush on him tries to break them up etc I'm always reading fics where reader is the best friend and eddie breaks up with the gf for her and tbh I want to see it the other way around where the gf is really sweet and nice and his friends tries to break them up but eddie choses the reader instead bc well he loves her.

A/N: Thank you so much! Requests like these makes my heart so warm, I really hope I interpreted the request like you imagined it. Also Chrissy had to take the role of the flirty friend here. Really hope you like it!

Summary: Chrissy has an obvious crush on the man you´re dating, and maybe she´s better for him than you are...

Content warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Fluff, hurt/comfort.

Word count: 1670

Fic is also posted on Ao3

Requests are open, so if you have any leave them.

Masterlist

I can never be her

Her giggle used to be cute in middle school but now you just found it infuriating…

Ever since that time she bought weed from Eddie for this homecoming party, Chrissy Cunningham started to make appearances around your friendship group when you least expected it.

Objectively you knew that she was kind, that she was gorgeous and undeniably charming.

The problem was that she was kind and charming towards the guy you were dating.

You and Eddie had not expressly said that you were exclusive and up until Chrissy started inviting herself you hadn’t felt the need to express what you and Eddie were. Everyone else just sorta knew, by the way his hand always seemed to find yours. How your chair more or less always was empty, because Eddie's lap was your preferred seat, with his hands around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

You did your absolute best to not let Chrissy's presence bother you too much, even though her flirting with Eddie was absolutely obvious, and the fact that it never seemed like she ever thought that you were an obstacle in her plan.

The rest of your friends all seemed to really enjoy having Chrissy around, which first of all made you annoyed.

Didn’t they see how she threw herself at Eddie, an in-every-way-but-officially taken man? It also meant that you couldn’t vent the annoyance and self doubt that floated around in your mind with someone.

This only spurred on the annoyance within you further.

It all peaked this one wednesday when your math teacher was “disucussing consequences” with the entire class,when only about two people in the class had disrupted her lesson. This resulted in you being well over 12 minutes late for lunch.

Eddie and the rest of your friendship group were waiting for you outside your classroom when a certain cheerleader with her perfect ponytail walked up to them.

“Ooo! Hi guys, fancy seeing you here?” Chrissy said, putting her manicured hand on the leather clad bicep that belonged to Eddie Munson.

He turned his head towards her and smiled at her, a gesture that from his view, was mere courtesy, but to her meant way more.

“You look good today,” Chrissy said to him, removing a strand of hair from his face delicately.

“Huh?” Eddie said, to be honest he hadn’t really listened to her, he was busy wondering and worrying slightly about the fact that your class hadn’t been dismissed yet.

Chrissy blushed when he looked at her. She didn’t feel like repeating her statement, it felt like it lost meaning when you said it more than once, so instead she just said;

“Are we heading to lunch?”

Eddie explained that they were headed there, but that they just had to wait for you first.

“Oh,” Chrissy said, “I was just thinking that we better get there before someone snags our table”

The other bought her reasoning but Eddie looked longingly toward the door that you were behind.

“Go on you guys,” he said. “I’ll wait for her”

This didn’t sit well with Chrissy. Eddie was the main reason behind why she wanted to have lunch with you guys.

“Cmon Eddie, I’m sure she’ll come join us later, she knows the way to the cafeteria” Chrissy said, tugging slightly on Eddie’s underarm.

He felt torn, all of his friends were waiting for him, but at the same time, you were expecting him to be there waiting for you.

“We’ll, uh, yeah I guess.”

You were indeed expecting him to be outside the door when you were dismissed 20 minutes later than you should have.

Your heart dropped a little as you saw a seemingly empty corridor.

I guess they grew too hungry. You thought and took off towards the crowded cafeteria.

Your hadn’t even entered when you saw it.

Chrissy in her short cheer-skirt, looking so incredibly perfect, perched up on the armrest of Eddie’s chair, chatting away to this jock and his girlfriend, and you noticed she made Eddie engage in the conversation.

That’s when another level of self doubt surrounding all of this,hit you.

You started to imagine what it would mean for Eddie, purely socially, if he was dating Chrissy.

She had a lot of say, and people trusted her judgement. If she dated Eddie then maybe people would stop treating him like utter garbage.

But only she had the mandate to do such a thing, you were about as low on the social ladder as any other nerd in the school.

It stung too much behind your eyes and you realised that you couldn’t keep it together well enough to enter the cafeteria and pretend that everything was fine. So instead you bolted, running away until you found a good place to hide and be alone with your thoughts.

That was how you ended up curled up in the dungeon master throne, in the dark drama room, hugging your own knees with tears trickling down your cheeks. All whilst your brain was telling you over and over again how you weren’t enough for him.

In the cafeteria Eddie was stressing over the fact that you hadn’t shown up yet.

He tried to bide the time, hoping that you would eventually show, but when you were a no show after 30 minutes he decided that he had waited long enough.

“I’m gonna go find her” he mumbled and rose from the chair, inevitably bumping Chrissy off the armrest as he did.

“Where are you off to?” She asked, obviously she hadn’t heard him.

He didn’t reply, he was way too focused on finding you.

He walked past your classroom, and found it empty when he glanced through the window.

He realised that something must have happened and he began to search in the different places where you usually went when you needed to be alone.

You weren’t in the forest behind school.

You weren’t under the bleachers.

You weren’t by his truck.

He however noticed that some muffled noises were coming from the drama room when he walked past, and smacked himself mentally for not checking there first.

“Sweetheart?” He called out as he opened the door. “You in here?”

You buried your face in your knees, hoping that he wouldn’t hear your sniffles and come find you like this.

Luck however wasn't on your side and soon he was squatting in front of the throne, a heavy comforting hand on your knee.

“Baby, did something happen?” He asked, one hand softly caressing the back of your head, trying to coax your head out of your own lap, but with no success. “Do I need to hurt someone?”

”No” you whimpered softly. “You can go back to her Eddie, I’ll be okay”

“Go back to who?” He asked, still slightly confused as to what caused you so much distress.

“Chrissy” you said barely above a whisper, you didn’t actually want to say it, because it could mean that he’d actually leave, but at the same time, he asked.

Eddie was dumbfounded for a minute, what did Chrissy have to do with anything?

Then realisation hit him like a ton of bricks.

Of course he had noticed Chrissy’s attempts, he wasn’t completely oblivious.

They meant nothing to him so he hadn’t bothered himself to much about it, but now he felt guilty when he realised that they had meant something to you.

“Baby, can you look at me,” he asked, feeling his own heart breaking for you more and more by every passing second.

You glanced up, unable not to when he sounded so soft.

“Eddie, I understand, she has things I’ll never have, she’s another level of gorgeous, she is smart, everyone loves her,” more tears gathered in your eyes as you spoke the words that had tormented your mind all morning,”she has a say in things Eddie.She's your shot to climb the social ladder and I think you should take it.”

Eddie's insides broke with every word you spoke.

”Sweetheart,” was all he got out in response as he was trying to figure out how to express the love he had for you in a way that made you feel it in every fibre of your being.

“Eddie, you don’t have to explain anything, I have come to realise that I am not her.” You said, looking at the puzzled man in front of you.

“That’s true” he said and the little dying hope inside was about to be put out, until he continued.

“And that’s why I want to be with you.”

You looked up at him properly this time, as if you couldn’t really believe what he was saying.

“What?”

“Can I hold you?” Eddie asked, he couldn’t see you hurt anymore without doing anything about it.

“Please” you pleaded, sounding so extremely tired of trying and failing to hold it together.

You got off the throne and Eddie got in it, then he opened his arms for you, which you quickly dove into.

You were with your back against Eddie chest, your head nuzzled in between his shoulder and cheek, inhaling the faint scent of musky wood and tobacco. The scent of Eddie.

“I”m sorry I never realised the way all her attempts were affecting you.” Eddie said. “If I knew I could have made it more clear to Chrissy, about us, I mean, I just sorta thought she’d figure it out and back off.”

“I’m sorry for feeling like this, I really tried not to..” you said, fiddling slightly with the rings that Eddie had on his left hand. “I mean it’s not that we’re official so I dunno …”

“Never apologise for that sweetheart, It’s a totally valid feeling and reaction.” He said and pecked the top of your head. Then he paused for a second, thinking. “Why aren’t we officially?”

You thought about it for a second.

“You want to be?” You asked, looking up into his soft brown eyes.

“Since the day we met gorgeous”

#eddie munson x reader

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the-s1lly-corner · 10 months

Note

Hello how are you :3? I was wondering if you could write E.J., Hoodie, and Masky with a s/o that has a lot of scars? (Toby too but platonic for him) I’m not sure how many people we can request so if it’s too many just Hoodie? I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable and thank you!

Various!Creepypastas w/ a scarred!reader

waaaah im so sorry for not seeing this sooner! i didnt recieve a notification for this ask!! really theres no limit to how many characters you can send in! i think my personal max varies from prompt to prompt!! mix of how they approach the concept of a scarred lover (friend in tobys case) with some hints of fluff! cause of scars will be vague as admittedly i didnt know if you meant general scars or SH! side note i hope this posts right! im writing this on my computer, im used to mobile!! + apologies for any weird wording or typos, im listening to music and im getting hyped!! not proof read we die like my spiderverse brainrot

Includes: Eyeless Jack, Hoodie, Masky and Platonic!Toby!

CWs: touch and go talk of potential past trauma, body image issues, vague mentions of SH(?) in EJs part + Toby's parts

admittedly admin doesnt know if its technically SH due to the nature and motiv but personally id still count it as such and tag it as such

Eyeless Jack;

he gets it, he really does. the basic run down of my hc/take on ej is that he wasnt always some flesh eating monster; just some dude who got caught up in some bad stuff

so naturally, he doesnt... really vibe well with the concept of eating human flesh, which can lead to a few... instances. from intentionally to accidentally harming himself while hes lost in his instincts

so hes no stranger to being a little roughed up around the edges

but hes a stranger to comforting; he'll likely approach it from a logical side before trying anything else. "you've been hurt," before going on a small tangent about the formation of scars. hes not the most... emotionally... good... available... person

so youre going to need to lay out the general basis for what you need for basic comfort, on days where your scars become an issue; be is needing comfort or a distraction. it may take him a while, but hell eventually start to pick up on cues and hints as your relationship develops

otherwise hes very neutral about them, again approaching them with a blunt view; seeing it as neither good nor bad. he doesnt draw attention to them, but he doesnt act like theyre gross

really just. vibing with it, doesnt make a huge deal of it since he feels he doesnt have any place to judge, nor does he feel its his business to pry for information

solid 6/10 imo, hell comfort you if you express that you need it but hell likely not go out of his way to do it

Hoodie;

Soft touches, he almost does it before he has your permission to touch you

naturally he has his own fair share of scars from various.. activities

really im still all jumbled up with how i wanna write him and masky; not sure if i want to make them like how they are in their MH source or lean into the proxy thing that was prominent in the early days of the fandom... lowkey leaning into the proxy thing for this post because im more... versed..? in that, but anyhow

hes more upfront and compassionate than eyeless jack, in fact hes probably the most caring out of the four in todays post... maybe thats because i read one (1) fic years back that changed my entire approach to his character but! yeah

subconsciously trails his hands on them when the two of you are holding one another; something gentle and intimate, not too obnoxious to make you self conscious, but not careful enough to go unnoticed

i view hoodie, and by extension brian if i end up considering him and tim fully seperate from their 'proxy' parts, as a very tactile person

true to the popular fanon interpretation, hoodie doesnt speak much. but that only makes him a better listener, so on days where things get hard, hell let you talk his ears off with anything thats bothering you. very rarely, hell speak up and offer some words of advice, most times hell inch closer to grasp you. though it does get awkward since most the time hes just. blankly staring at you silently without emoting or saying a word

overall? personally hes a 7/10 for me, i would rank him higher if he were more verbal, but thats just because admin has an easier time venting if its a two way convo; but overall hell make sure that your scars dont effect your worth

Masky;

very similarly to hoodie, masky also has his own set of scars for the same reasons

he probably starts pointing out his own scars to you and mumbles about where they came from if he knows their origins

this doesnt mean "oh hes invalidating your experiences and hes trying to make it about himself," but more so "hes showing that he really does get it and he doesnt mean to talk over you"

much like EJ he approaches scars with a very blunt and upfront mindset, but to a lesser extent. he admits that whatever led up to the tissue forming, it hurt. emotionally and physically, and hes not going to deny that simple fact. hell listen to you, have a conversation with you about it, and try to help you through whatever you may be currently going through regardless of if youre injury is relevant.

or at least, thats what hes trying to do.

hes still has his own personal issues regarding going about his own problems in a healthy manner but hey thats something for another post; maybe, if i remember

honestly this post doesnt have enough fluff imo, and i can kinda see masky doing this, but imagine he boops his mask against your scars in a mockery of a kiss (doesnt take off his mask often, in fact youll probably never ever see him without it on), i can see jack doing this too tbh

thoughts? 8/10, gets the bonus points for being less awkward to rant to imo, plus i think asides ej, i think i have a bias for masky for the simple fact i had the fattest crush on him when i was in middle school

Toby;

okay! this one is going to be interesting for one main reason! i actually havent touched tobys character in YEARS! so hes probably going to have the shorter list... obligatory i havent built any solid hcs for him past what was going on in the fandom in the 2010s, before toby briefly became a mild discomfort... but we're back in business baby!! (^^ dont feel bad for requesting for toby btw! hes no longer a discomfort, and if i didnt want to write for him i wouldnt be including him right here!!)

obviously we cant talk about his part without talking about his cheek. and other, similar hcs. while i dont think most of the self inflicted marks on his body were from a place of.. for lack of better words, darkness; it doesnt change the fact he still has them. i think a lot of them are from the fact he cant feel anything; accidental burns, gnawing through his cheek, digging his fingers deep into himself. really i could go into detail, but due to the aforementioned fact that my take on him isnt as developed as other characters + i really dont think its appropriate for this post (or really, anywhere on this account,), ill stop there

while he cant relate to the physical pain of what caused your scars, he can sympathize through your feelings. do you feel sorrow, or anger to whoever hurt you? hell be getting worked up right with you, because to him youre one of his closest friends

i feel like he doesnt talk much about his past, regarding his family. but hed tell you, and you can sure as hell bet that hell do his absolute damndest to grant you the same feeling of security.

hell probably touch and prod without truly meaning any harm, but thats because he can have problems with boundaries, but hell listen if you sit him down and tell him it makes you uncomfortable if it does

more so emotional than outwardly... supportive? idk the words, but hes very empathetic with you and tries to relate to you through emotion rather than feeling what you felt. honestly? kinda based for that, but maybe thats because i dont see feelings about this topic being touched on, usually its straight up about how the scar makes the person look or the physical trauma they had gone through, but idk, maybe thats just a me thing

he can be an asshole at times but hell usually backtrack and cool off somewhere else if you call him out on it imo

not sure if its because as im LITERALLY investigating his characteristics and interpretations as we speak, but i think im starting to relate to him so ER-OH!

anyways, i wish i could make his segment more... in tune with the characters above but its probably going to take me a while until im comfortable with how i portray this dude, which sucks because as a kid he was probably one of my favorites

i dont think im going to give toby a rating like the others; since i dont think i can accurate rate him due to the lack of proper concrete ideas outside of him being empathetic to your emotional pain since he cant relate on how much it hurt

im gonna end this here since im starting to sound like a broken record on tobys part so!

i hope you enjoyed this! characterization may be a little off but i blame that mostly on the fact that i kinda fell out of the loop in regards for writing for these guys (that damn spider movie! the brainrot threw me off my creepypasta grind!/j) but its good to be back writing for this fandom! it was a fun little brain exercise trying to figure out each character goes about this kind of thing without making them all the same!! with that being said, im going to go listen to an audio reading of tobys story so i can regrounded in his character and hopefully do him some justice in the future!

#creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #eyeless jack x reader #hoodie x reader #masky x reader #ticci toby x reader #eyeless jack x you #hoodie x you #masky x you #ticci toby x you

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