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ellecdc · 1 month

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Mother, im sitting here at 4am, eating mini easter eggs and ive had tge most brilliant idea!! (Inspired by @inkdrinkerworld 's fic)

Okay so, poly!moonwater and readers been having trouble sleeping due to tensions/problems with her pureblood family. As a result shes been taking more naps, but they arent restful. So reader were napping in Rems bed (the dungeons were too cold) but after a fitful 30 minutes she gets up groggy, sleep deprived and beyond frustrated. She stumbles her way down to the common room, pin point Sirius lounging across the couch and promptly throws herself down to cuddle with him and continue her nap. Everyone (minus Siri) is shook. Jamie even asks if she got the wrong person because Reggie was sitting over there (in which he got a one eyed death glare before she burrowed into Siris chest and passed out).

Now, what everybody else didnt know was that Siri had more or less adopted reader as his own (she remined him so much of Reggie, being her big brother was 2nd nature). And while Barty was her person, he was a little too crazy to be comforting in this situation ("y/n, i'll get rid of them for you. Its not hard to do so" "Barty, no."). And of course Siri nows how bad their kind of familys are so he'd been taking care of reader on the down low as an older brother would.

Bonus if Reggie then decides that looks warm and fuzzy and wants Siri cuddles too so he joins ( it took him so long to get to a point where he could let himself be vunerable enough to openly allow Siri to take care of him 😭)

aweeee poor reader. this ended up being way more serious than I thought it would be? like it's not funny at all, there's no humour (which feels odd to me, usually I can throw some jokes or banter in there) but plenty of hurt comfort???.......idk, I can't tell if this is any good, it feels very different from my usual pieces

poly!moonwater x fem!reader whose family sucks (but it's very Sirius-centric)

CW: mentions of insomnia, mentions of abusive families, making fun of only children (sorry), hurt/comfort

You were miserable to say the least; you couldn’t remember when the last time you had a restful sleep was, and nothing you did seemed to help.

The closer it got to the Winter Holidays, the more your mind seemed to spiral. Every time you began to relax, your heart pounded as if you’d accidentally leaned too far back in your chair, reminding you of your upcoming visit home. Every time you closed your eyes, you were bombarded with images of angry faces and violent curses being shot at you.

The Slytherin dungeons were too cold, and every time you found your way into Regulus’ dorm, Barty insisted on butting in, and though you appreciated his support, you couldn’t handle his threats promises to burn down your home with your parents in it.

Remus and Regulus both suggested you perhaps talk to Madame Pomfrey about getting some dreamless sleep or sleeping draught, but you were too embarrassed to admit to your two overprotective boyfriends that you’ve used them so frequently during your life for this very reason that they had lost all efficacy.

It had gotten to the point that you managed to get the most sleep in the library bent over the table with your face on your book whilst Remus and Regulus did their work (and sometimes yours), and that honestly left you feeling more painfully tired than you had been before your nap.

So, you were nearly falling asleep at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall over your chicken and roast potatoes when Remus gently nudged you and suggested you go lie down for a bit and you wanted to weep into your potatoes which was only slightly less embarrassing than sleeping in them, causing him and Regulus to bring you up to Gryffindor tower.

You’d kicked them both out of the Marauders’ dorm room after some time – Remus for snoring and Regulus because the sound of him turning the pages of his book was distracting you. He promised to stop reading, but then he breathed too loudly and you started crying.

You were overtired, emotional, and running on fumes.

You’d counted puffskeins, you’d had a warm glass of milk, you’d taken off articles of clothing and reconfigured your outfit numerous times (which was currently Remus’ jumper and no pants), and you’d tried every position imaginable to no avail.

You think you might have perhaps gotten five minutes of sleep before you woke up with a start, a barely repressed scream grating through your teeth.

Feeling disturbingly weepy and no less groggy from your horrid sleep, you pulled on a pair of your sweatpants and grabbed the throw blanket from the end Remus’ bed before trudging down the stairs to the common room.

“You should have seen the look on Filch’s face- oh! Hi Y/N!” James called as you made your way over to the three-seater and stood over the black-haired boy currently occupying it.

“Oh, Trouble.” He cooed sympathetically at you before kicking his feet out, laying back, and opening his arms for you to join him. You quickly climbed on top of him, and he tucked you in between the back of the sofa and his side, bending your knee so that your thigh rested on top of his, and pulled the blanket over the two of you.

You let out a shaky sigh and felt the first few tears fall from your eyes and onto Sirius’ chest.

“Uhm...” James said loudly, looking over to both Regulus and Remus cuddled in a large plush chair from his place on the loveseat with Lily like ‘are you seeing this right now?’. “I think you’ve got the wrong wizard there, L/N.” He said with a nervous laugh.

“No, she’s quite alright.” Sirius gritted back at him, looking far more severe than James thought the situation called for as he rubbed his hand consolingly up and down your arm.

James looked to your boyfriends, his face clearly asking all the questions that his mouth wasn’t.

“He helps, sometimes.” Regulus admitted, not looking particularly happy that you chose his brother over him, but not nearly as murderous as James figured he might look if he’d found Lily snuggled up like that with some other bloke. And it appeared as though the look of heartbreak on Remus’ face was caused more by your current sorry state and less about your current cuddle partner.

“But...your brother?” James asked, still befuddled over this development. “Doesn’t she usually go to Junior for things like this?”

Sirius scoffed. “Junior’s solution to almost anything is fire or murder.”

“Or both.” You whimpered quietly, causing Sirius to tighten his arm around you and bring his other hand up to continue stroking your arm.

“Besides, Barty’s an only child.” Regulus said flippantly.

“What’s that got to do with it?” James asked, slightly offended at the insinuation that anything may be wrong with him on account of his only child-ness.

Regulus’ irritable demeanor over Sirius usurping you was quickly replaced by a cocky smirk at getting under James’ skin.

“Let me ask you this, Potter: last summer when Lily returned your letters unopened and called you an arrogant toerag after saying she’d rather date the giant squid, whose arms did you cry into?”

“He didn’t cry.” Lily laughed at the same time as James answered “Sirius’” without any hesitation.

“What?” Lily asked, looking slightly horrified that she may have actually hurt James’ feelings.

“Oh, all the time, every time, actually.” James said readily.

“He got snot on so many of my favourite band-tee’s, Red. As a matter of fact, I expect retribution.” Sirius commented.

“And why do you think you cried into Sirius’ arms?” Regulus continued.

“Well...because he’s my best mate.” James said simply.

“You may think that’s the reason, but you’re wrong. It’s because Sirius is an older brother.”

James scoffed at that. “Please, that has nothing to do with it!”

“Have you ever cried in Remus’ arms?”

“No, but-”

“Pettigrew’s?”

James grimaced but answered honestly. “No.”

“No. Because they’re not older brothers.” Regulus said definitively.

“That actually makes sense...” Lily mused aloud.

“You say that like you’re surprised, Evans. I know you’re not used to good idea’s coming out of men’s mouths, but I do assure you it happens more frequently than you might imagine.” Regulus taunted, earning him a pillow being hurled at his head.

Much to James’ chagrin, his seeker reflexes caught the pillow before it made impact with his face.

“Tosser.” James grumbled.

“Would you guys shut up.” Sirius whispered, causing everyone to look over at you.

Regulus couldn’t even find it in him to be miffed when he saw you sleeping what looked to be quite peacefully in Sirius’ arms. Your eyes were slightly swollen from your tears, and he could see the tracks they had left on your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose, but you looked so content.

“So... all big brothers know how to do that?” James asked incredulously.

“I doubt it.” Sirius commented quietly.

“Only ones who know what it’s like to live in a Pureblood hellscape and needed to share his bed with his younger brother who was too scared to sleep on his own for years.” Regulus added quietly, staring unseeingly towards you and Sirius. Remus pulled Regulus tighter into his side and began rubbing his arm consolingly.

Suddenly, things started to make a little more sense to James.

“I’ll write to mum.” James stated, causing both brothers, Lily, and Remus to look at him bemusedly.

“About what?” Remus asked finally.

“Y/N staying with us.” James said simply.

Regulus opened his mouth ready to argue; to argue that James didn’t have to and that he already took in both Sirius and Regulus. James didn’t owe Regulus anything.

But Sirius spoke first.

“She should be with her big brother, Reggie.” Sirius said, shooting him an encouraging smile and wink.

And seeing how your breathing had fallen even with your mouth slightly ajar as you clutched to the fabric of Sirius’ jumper like it was a lifeline, who was Regulus to argue?

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borathae · 5 months

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"PMSing is hard. Thankfully you have a boyfriend who is the most patient and understanding person on earth, even if he is currently the target of your mood swings."

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff

Warnings: she is pmsing really hard, mood swings, a little unnecessary fight, Yoongi being the most loving and understanding person ever, he's also a cutie, she can't be mad at him for long <3

Wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: where are my fellow PMS-sufferer? we're really out there fighting battles. istfg boongie <3 i miss him so much :( he'd be such a patient booboo 😔

You were mad at him. And it was his fault because he messed up. You are currently renovating one of the greenhouse flower beds and realised in the middle of renovating that you didn’t have enough plants to fill the bed. So you asked Yoongi to go to the plant store for more and he returned with the wrong plants. Okay fair enough, maybe you are a little overreacting as well. As a matter of fact, you are very much overreacting. But it’s only a few days till your period starts and your hormones seem to hate you this month. You are constantly upset about the silliest of things and everything seems so very difficult to handle. Yoongi coming home with the wrong plants felt like the greatest betrayal in history to you. You accused him of not listening to you while he pouted at you and told you that he mixed up the names at the store, which you obviously didn’t believe because he “is a stinky liar”. Truly the fight was very unnecessary and way too dramatic for something as silly as plants, but you were upset nonetheless and so Yoongi left to allow you to cool down.

Speaking of Yoongi, he is back in the greenhouse again after leaving you to calm down. It has been a little over an hour since he left.

“Princess?”

You tense up at his voice, feeling weirdly tingly in the stomach. Not in a good way, but in a guilty yet also very annoyed way. You weren’t ready to face him yet. You still had to get over the embarrassment of acting like a child, but also the annoyance of having the wrong plants.

Maybe if you pretend that you can’t hear him, he will leave again.

“My flower princess?”

You furrow your brows. Damn him and his stupid, cute nicknames. They work too well.

“What?” you grumble.

Shuffling of feet, then the sound of something being put down next to you. You sneak a glance at it. There is a basket of the correct plants next to you. Yoongi must have gone back to the store to get them. Your heart flutters, your eyes burn in the desire to cry. He is so sweet and lovely and amazing and you are such a bitch.

“Look at what I got”, he says.

“Mhm.”

Yoongi squats down next to you.

“Are these the correct ones?” he asks with hopeful eyes.

You nod your head, turning away from him slightly. You are aware that you’re being childish right now, but if you look at him for too long you will start crying uncontrollably.

A defeated sigh from him, then you feel arms around you and lips on your cheek.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asks in a whisper, rubbing his hand up and down your arm.

“Yes, you’re stinky.”

“No princess, don’t say that. I’m not stinky.”

“Yeah you are, you stinky meanie.”

“___”, he whines, pulling you into his chest, “I already said I’m sorry and I got the right plants, please don’t make it so hard.”

“Well, I heard you but decided that I’m still mad.”

“And there is nothing I can do to make it better?”

“Don’t know.”

“I could make you a snack.”

“No, don’t want to eat.”

“Well then how about I give you head scratches?” he offers, nuzzling his nose into your hair as best as possible.

You shiver at the feeling, but decide to stay strong.

You huff out air and pout.

“I could eat your pussy”, he whispers, letting his lips brush against your ear.

It sounds tempting and makes you tingle.

“Yoongi”, you whine, “stop.”

He chuckles lazily, “was that a yes?”

“No, you’re being unfair and mean.”

He laughs, placing a soft kiss to your ear, “I’m not. I’m fighting for my life here.”

You roll your eyes and wiggle yourself out of the hug, abandoning Yoongi on the ground as you stand up. He looks up at you with pouty lips and sad eyes.

“Thanks for the plants”, you mumble and kick a small imaginary pebble.

“Am I forgiven?” he asks.

“Don’t know yet”, you say and turn to leave the greenhouse.

“Princess please”, Yoongi begs, scrambling to his feet. He trots after you, “princess love, please don’t be mad at me anymore.”

“Go away, you stinky”, you tell him.

Yoongi pouts, following you outside.

The garden is coming along greatly. The flowers and grasses are growing, bees and insects are buzzing and your herbs drench the air in amazing scents.

You lead the way along the narrow nature paths. Yoongi follows until the once narrow paths break up into a lowly cut meadow. Crossing it and one would reach the vegetable garden. You are strutting to it confidently.

Yoongi jogs to catch up with you and goes in for his move. He grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours tightly.

You continue your walk, but slow down a little. Slower. Slower. Slower.

Stop.

Two steps and you would be by the vegetable beds.

The wind tickles your shins, the sun is shining.

You turn, looking at your intertwined hands then at Yoongi.

He is squinting his eyes because of the sunlight.

“I won’t let go until you stop being angry at me”, he tells you, squeezing your hand.

You’re not really mad at him anymore. As a matter of fact, you think that it is incredibly cute of him to hold hands as a way of making up.

You take a deep breath and release it as a sigh through your nose. Damn him and his cute methods. You’re being a meanie. You take out your sunglasses from your dungaree front pocket and slip them on his face as best as possible. Yoongi helps you with it, snatching your other hand as well once finished.

“Really?” you ask him, holding back a smile.

“Yeah. Really”, he says, swaying your hands gently, “I could do this all day.”

“What if I have to pee?”

“You can’t pee if you can’t drink. I can do this all day.”

Fine, he’s got you. You laugh, lowering your head.

“You’re stinky”, you murmur.

“What?” he insist with a smile.

“You’re stupid!” you blurt out, meeting his eyes, “stop making me laugh.”

“Why? Cause it’s hard being mad at me when you gotta laugh?”

“Yeah.”

Yoongi chuckles. He steps closer, caressing your knuckles.

“Does that mean you’re ready to forgive me?”

You pout, “you’re unfair, you know? I tell you to leave me alone and you go and make me hold hands.”

He smiles, “it’s the best way to make up.”

“No, the best way’s kisses.”

Yoongi takes the opportunity and smooches your cheek. Then your other. And one last right on your lips.

He moves back, meeting your playful, coy gaze.

“Like this?” he asks.

You roll your eyes and grin, swaying your shoulders from side to side.

“Yeah, I guess”, you murmur.

Yoongi scrunches his nose. You lower your eyes, swinging your hands from left to right gently.

“Soo am I forgiven?” he asks quietly.

You nod your head.

“God, you stubborn baby, you. Making it so hard for me. Com’ere”, he says, pulling you into a hug.

You fall into it gladly, hugging him as tightly as possible with your eyes closed. He smells so good and pets your head just perfectly.

“I know, I’m sorry”, you mumble into him, “I don’t feel good lately. PMS is hitting me hard this month. I’m sorry, I try not to be so upset about everything, but everything feels like the worst thing ever.”

“Mhm, I know”, he speaks softly, rubbing your back, “I’m here, princess love. Okay?”

You nod your head, smiling softly when he kisses your head. You love hugging him so much.

“Oh god, Yoongi now I’m crying”, you confess, sniffling into him sadly.

“God princess, don’t cry”, he gasps, hugging you tighter.

“It’s just that you’re so cute and perfect and, and I’m always so mean to you, oh god I’m the worst girlfriend ever”, you say and let out a little sob.

“No you’re not. God princess love, it’s okay. It was one time and we made up. God, come here”, he chuckles, swooping you off your feet to bounce you in his arms, “let’s get you some tea to drink, yeah?”

You nod your head, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as you sob over the silliest of reasons.

“Fuck princess, I’m letting you drink something, which means you’re gonna have to go pee. I’m breaking my own promises here”, he jokes in hopes of making you laugh. It works perfectly, you are giggling and snickering into the crook of his neck, clinging to him like the cuddliest koala. He laughs softly, patting your butt, “you’re cute. Even with your mood swings.”

“Noo Yoongi, don't say that. I’m sensitive today. I’ll cry again”, you whine.

“Okay, okay sorry”, Yoongi laughs, making you snicker as well.

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lustfulslxt · 6 months

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Fake Boyfriend - Matt Sturniolo

summary : out with your best friend, matt, you both run into your toxic ex. matt pretends to be your current boyfriend.

—

You and your best friend were now at the mall after deciding to go on a little fun shopping trip. You were just going to mainly browse, occasionally picking out a few things you both really liked, then go to get food.

Matt was walking beside you, holding yours and his bags, waiting for you to decide on what to eat. That was a struggle within itself, seeing as you're incredibly indecisive.

"I don't know why you're making me choose! You know I literally can't pick, Matty." You exclaim with a slight chuckle.

Matt shakes his head with a grin, "But you can though. You just won't."

"I'm actually physically incapable of it." You argue, causing him to burst out laughing, which led to you laughing with him.

"You're so dramatic, girl." He playfully rolls his eyes, before pointing directly ahead of you both. "We're getting Sbarro."

"Great!" You beamed at his undeniably easy decision. "Was that so hard?"

He stops in his tracks and gapes at you in disbelief, appalled at your audacity. "Apparently, it was. You quite literally act like it's the end of the world if you have to pick anything. I'm surprised you were able to choose what to wear today."

"It took me a good half hour." You sheepishly smiled, laughing at his bewildered expression.

"You're insane, kid." He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you walk towards the food court. "Find a table, and I'll get our food?"

You hum in agreement, taking the bags from him. It only took a second to find a table away from the other people indulging in their food. You sat down, placing the two bags on the ground at your feet. While you waited for Matt to return, you just pulled your phone out to keep you occupied.

Your peacefulness was soon interrupted, not only a minute later. The sound of a deep voice clearing their throat, caught your attention. Your eyes trailed from their feet, up their body, meeting their eyes last.

It was your ex-boyfriend.

You had prayed to every God you could think of to never have to deal with this man again. Once you broke up, you cut ties with him completely, wanting nothing to do with him ever again. Of course, the universe had other plans.

"Long time, no see." He grins at you, as if you guys were old friends.

You couldn't help the expression that fell on your face, your eyebrows furrowed as you scrunch your nose in disgust. You were actually repulsed by him.

"What do you want?"

"Wow, that's harsh." He feigned hurt. "I miss you, Y/N."

His last statement caused a loud cackle to fall from your mouth, "Please be so actually for real, guy."

"Oh, don't be like that babe. I know you miss me and all our good times." He smirked, as if he knew you inside and out.

He couldn't be more far from the truth. Just his presence alone was making you uncomfortable, causing you to physically tense. You two ended on very bad terms, and honestly, at times he scared you. He was literally batshit crazy.

"Hey baby." Matt's voice spoke from the side of you.

Suddenly, your head was turned with soft fingers under your jaw. Not a second later, his lips were planted on yours in a soft and gentle kiss. As shocked as you were, you still kissed him back. As if you both got lost in the way your lips perfectly molded together, a scoff brought you both to reality and you pulled away.

"Who's this chump?" Y/E questions, his face full of anger.

"I'm her boyfriend if you must know. Kick rocks, kid." Matt glares, stepping slightly in front of you.

Y/E doesn't waste another breath before he's off in another direction. Matt sits in front of you, placing the tray of food on the table. Your eyes were wide, your mouth slightly agape, staring at him in silence. Once he noticed your state, he cleared his throat.

"I, uh.. Sorry, about that. I could see how uncomfortable you were, and it was honestly the first thought that came to my mind. Sorry, if I, you know, overstepped and made you more uncomfortable."

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly feeling incredibly dry. "Why was that your first thought?"

He looked like a deer in headlights as he thought about what to say. He knew he couldn't lie to you, you could read him like a book. So, despite the anxiety that coursed his veins and made him sick to his stomach, he responded, truthfully.

"I guess because I think about it a lot."

Your eyes widened even more if that was possible, flickering around before landing back on him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He sighs and gives you a look, "Alright, be for real. I think it's obvious how I feel about you."

Your lips turned upwards in an innocent smile, and you had to bring them into your mouth to prevent yourself from cheesing like a goofball. With a look of confusion, you replied, "Please do explain."

"You're so unserious." He laughs, shaking his head, but still elaborates, "I'm in love with you and everything about you, you dork."

Hearing that come out of his mouth had you ecstatic. It was like something within you ignited, and you couldn't help but smile from ear to ear. Your eyes shone with happiness as you stared at him. Without a word, you leaned forward, your hands reaching over and pulling him closer to you by his chain. Your eyes gazed into his, reading into every emotion displayed, hoping yours were showing the same.

They were.

Closing the gap between you, he leaned forward once more, smashing his lips onto yours. It was still soft, but passionate. As cliche as it sounds, his kiss set your whole body on fire. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss as your stomach danced with butterflies.

Once you pulled away, your eyes connected once again. "I'm in love with you too, you goof."

a/n : yuck, was this cringe? my first lil imagine or whatever. def not proofread, sorry bby <3 anywhooo, request whatever!

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolos #fluff #relationship #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #imagine #fanfic #one shots #requests #lustfulslxt

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spacebarbarianweird · 3 months

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Oooh! Chronic depression Tav sounds right up your alley! I'm also chronically depressed and I have a similar living condition (messy room, not the horrific torture) to Astarion. Maybe a Tav who can empathize with his messy tent and his depression?

Oh yes, this hits my alley! I was diagnosed with anxiety disorder and depression a while ago plus it seems like I had a severe depression when I was 12-19 years old (but I wasn't taken to any specialists back then).

TW: Anxiety and depression come in different forms, my therapists always told me that I have a weird skill to look absolutely normal meanwhile tests show signs of severe depression. I've based this headcanon on my own experience.

TW 2: A suicide attempt, depression.

Astarion x Depressed!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

You feel off.

Something was utterly wrong with you for the last few years.

You barely eat, sleep too much

Decision-making is difficult as fuck, and you just do what you are told to.

The time is slipping through your fingers and you sometimes realize it's already winter when it was summer a day ago.

You feel like drowning in the dark void.

Maybe you should just end everything? Because life will never get better.

The tadpole suppresses your condition.

You suddenly feel good. You feel strong. You feel alive.

And the Emperor is particularly adamant that you embrace the tadpole potential.ccepting the tadpole potential.

"Remember how bad you felt before? It will get worse if you deny the tadpole. Once it's gone, your mind will drown in darkness again. But accept my offer, and you will never suffer again."

You recognize familiar patterns in Astarion's behavior.

His inability to make decisions.

The mess he made of his tent.

The way he sometimes sits and stares in the distance not moving at all.

That he doesn't really read, staring at the papers with mindless eyes.

Or quickly turning pages without understanding what is written there.

Or an extreme degree of anhedonia. He cannot taste wine or food, his senses are dulled, and nothing brings him joy except blood and sex (both of which have been unavailable to him for centuries).

You want to accept the tadpole. You don't want to go back to where you were. He doesn't want to either.

But when you take the astral tadpole, Astarion knocks it out of your hands and smashes it.

"You're in no condition to make decisions like that, dear," he says, grabbing your arm.

Neither is he.

You fear to have the tadpole removed.

When it is gone, it's worse than you expected.

You can't move. Can't think. The void is killing you.

You don't want to talk to anyone. You can't do anything. The only thing you are capable of is to crawl into the inn and lie there like in a coffin.

It will never get better.

Maybe, you should just off yourself?

And Astarion's absence only proves your thoughts. He isn't there, he's left. He doesn't need a burden like you.

The relapse is so bad you decide to find a way to end things.

You choose a lonely place and takes a dagger out.

You greet death like an old friend.

Only to wake up under a starry night sky.

With a familiar skeleton-like figure close to you.

Withers brought you back. But why? And how did he…

Before you manage to say anything coherent, you feel strong hands around your waist and a familiar scent.

Astarion cries holding you.

"I shouldn't have left you, I shouldn't have... I am so sorry..."

He was ashamed of himself. Of his own relapse.

But he could never thought you would kill yourself.

These six monthes were difficult for him.

Yes, he was free. He could do whatever he wanted.

But he was lonely. He had nightmares. Breakdowns.

He started looking for you only to realize you were dead.

Finding Withers was his only hope.

And you are back. Back to him.

Astarion takes you away from Baldur's Gate to the places you've never been before.

Basically making you run faster than your darkness.

Together you learn how to enjoy things.

You basically ask each other "What can we do rn to make ourselves feel better?"

A swim in the lake? A bath in the inn? A new piece of garment? Just staying together in the tent?

You hold each other from slipping into the void.

Eventually, you are advised to start taking some medicine made by clerics.

You take it once a day and you feel better, almost the same way you felt with the tadpole.

You take the double shot because Astairon drinks your blood to get this medicine for himself.

You both don't feel yourself that miserable anymore. You both cry less.

You sleep better, Astarion doesn't have nightmares.

You are good. Both of you.

It doesn't mean the darkness won't come back - but you are both ready to meet it.

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

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m00mis · 1 year

Text

happy valentines day! here's a present ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

feeding seventeen

scoups - his eyes would go wide when he sees you holding out a spoonful of food just for him and would open his mouth no questions asked, chewing with a smile and love in his eyes. but next time you ate without giving him any he would get very sulky and hold it against you

jeonghan - definitely the type of person to feed you back most of his food to make up the tiny bite that he had (”eat up! you have to stay healthy” "what about you?" "i get my strength from watching you eat")

joshua - he would refuse to eat any of your food because he feels bad taking it from you, even if he was starving . he appreciates the gesture though, and kisses you on your head as a thankyou before making sure you eat the rest (maybe he would even end up feeding you)

jun - he would gladly eat a spoon of your food and give you some of his in return but he would pretend it was an airplane, making the sound effects and everything even if you were in public. he enjoyed seeing you shy and embarrassed

hoshi - he would see you holding food for him and he would be so excited saying oooh! mmmm! yummy! before even tasting it because he knew whatever you had made was delicious. does a little dance while chewing and hangs around you for another mouthful thinking he's sly but it's so obvious, he's like a dog waiting for scraps

wonwoo - you made him all shy and he couldn’t make eye contact while you were staring at him to see whether he liked the food or not. after thoroughly chewing he would nod and agree that it was good. he would then ask if you wanted to try some of his and his hand would shake a little when feeding you

woozi - would just stare at you like... you really expect me to do this? but the moment you reacted just a little to his rejection he would swoop in and eat it and be surprised that it was good because he was scared at the mess you had made while cooking it

dk - when you held out your food he would smile so wide and open his mouth saying “aaaah” and react massively, repeatedly saying that it was the best thing he had ever tasted and that you should make him some next time because he would really, really enjoy it

mingyu - you had just made food but had to go to the bathroom, but mingyu was so hungry that he just had to try your food cuz it smelt so good. before he knew it he had devoured the entire thing so he started cooking the same meal for you to replace what he had eaten, apologising profusely when you returned to an empty plate ("listen i'm making some more right now-" "what the hell mingyu" "pLEASE i'm so sorry i'll never do it again i swear" "THATS THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK")

the8 - you offer him the first bite of your meal so he can say whether its good or not. he's been doing this ever since you had a spoonful of the worst meal ever at a restaurant (you ordered it to impress him but it was so, so bad). he enjoys taking care of you and always ties your hair up for you while he decides if the food is good enough for you to eat

seungkwan - he walked past you seeing that you're eating alone so he goes to your room and starts pacing back and forth, overthinking everything and getting so worked up that he finally approaches you and half-shouts "yah aren't you going to feed me?" and you just casually offer up your food as if nothing had happened which makes him so annoyed. goes on about how he thought you didn't love him anymore "seriously i can't believe you were eating without me!"

vernon - he was being nosy and wondering what was smelling so good as you were cooking so you were constantly feeding him bits of it for him to taste and adjusting it to how he said. by the time it's on the table there's definitely not as much food as there was in the beginning but he makes up for it because he secretly bought your favourite dessert to surprise you (he shows you it with a massive smile: "tadaa!")

dino - definitely would suspect you from having 12 brothers. "seriously? i can have some? are you sure? you wont hold this against me so you can have some of mine right?" and you'd eventually get annoyed and go to eat it yourself but he would grab your arm and go "no wait don't eat it i want it, feed me :("

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avatar-anna · 1 year

Note

Aaaah i am so deep in my Harry feels and you write him so perfectly…

So i have a request !

Something i cannot get out of my mind are the lines from as it was “Answer the phone, "Harry, you're no good alone why are you sittin' at home on the floor?What kind of pills are you on?" … and maybe the reader just got home and she’s the one saying that to Harry? Idk …

Anyway i love how you write ❤️ stay golden !

Grief Fic, Part One

so, this turned into a really long fic that's full of angst (perhaps too much). part of me wanted to make it even longer, but i think i ended it at the right point where i could come back to it if people wanted me to.

Part Two

tw: mentions of death, depression, grieving

"Harry? You here?" you called, walking across the threshold of your friend's house. Looking down, you ruffled the hair of the little girl who came in with you. Her hands gripped the straps of her backpack as she skipped into the house, clearly not bothered by the band-aid on her knee or the cut beneath it.

She looked around and called out for her dad, who either didn't hear it or couldn't find it on him to respond. When the skip in her step faltered and a look of confusion and hurt began to creep onto her face, you helped her out of her backpack and said, "Why don't you go upstairs, kiddo? Change out of your uniform? We can decide what to do for dinner after. Your pick."

You hoped that the distraction of getting to pick what they ate for dinner tonight would be enough, but she still seemed rather subdued compared to how cheery she sounded as she talked about her day at school on the drive home. "Okay."

She scurried off to her room upstairs, leaving you alone in the big kitchen that hardly got used anymore. When the young girl was gone, you called out to Harry again, stepping further into the house. You eventually found him in his studio, but he wasn't working.

"Jesus, H. I can't leave you alone for five minutes," you muttered, picking the bottle of whiskey off the floor and screwing the cap back on before setting it on a high shelf where he wouldn't think to reach for it.

Harry himself was sitting on the carpeted floor of his studio, staring blankly at nothing in particular. This wouldn't be the first time you found him in a similar state, but each time you hoped it would be the last.

"Is Harper alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, she's upstairs," you said.

"Thank you for picking her up again today," he said, still not looking at you.

You sat down next to him, draping your arms over your knees as you crossed your legs together. "No problem. I knew you were supposed to be working today, which leads me to my next question. Why are you sitting in here alone? I thought today was a writing session?"

"Cancelled. Didn't feel up to it today."

Harry didn't feel up to much of anything these days. It was understandable, to an extent. You knew he was going through a lot, but it wasn't just him he had to look out for. Harper needed her dad, now more than ever.

"Was it...anything in particular?" you asked gently. Sometimes Harry got cagey when you asked him about his current situation. He would snap or get defensive or ignore you completely. You'd known him for so many years, but in the span of a few months, you had to relearn how to talk to him. "Yesterday you seemed excited to work."

Harry shrugged, which drew your attention to his narrow shoulders. He hasn't been eating, you thought. You quickly scanned his face, and looking past the obvious unkempt facial hair and dark circles, you noticed his features were more pronounced, eyes sunken in some. You thought he was doing better, you thought he was healing.

"Harry," you said when he didn't respond.

Ever so gently, you rested a hand on his arm. His skin was cold as ice, and pale. So unlike the warmth and sunny glow it used to carry. The person in front of you was a shell of the man he once was, and you didn't know how to bring him back.

"Do you know what kind of pills you're on? If they're not working, the doctor can prescribe something else," you said.

"It's not the pills," he murmured. "I just...I just don't know how to function without her."

So you're not taking them, you thought but didn't say. Instead, you gave Harry's hand a gentle squeeze. "I know."

"I don't want to function without her. I—I can't do anything else but exist, and even that's exhausting."

Harry's voice was heavy with emotion, his eyes downcast as he stared at the band around his finger.

You were aware of the dangerous waters he was wading into, and the pressure to keep him from drowning suddenly crushed your chest. You'd already said all the typical platitudes—it'll get better with time, she wouldn't want you to live like this, Harper needs you. Sometimes they were enough to get him out of the house or to sit down on the couch with Harper to watch a movie, but it would only last so long, and recently Harry's mood improvement would dwindle faster and faster. You did what you could to help by taking care of Harper and checking in on Harry everyday, but he was starting to scare you.

"Daddy?"

Your head whipped around to where Harper was standing by the door of the studio. At eight years old, she looked just like Harry with bright green eyes and dimpled cheeks and curly hair. But she looked like her mother too, and though it was nearly imperceptible, you saw the bob of Harry's Adam's apple when he looked at her.

"Hi sweetheart," he said, not standing up to go over to her.

Harper waited by the door, waiting for Harry to do more. To ask about her day or tell her about his or go over to her or something. But he didn't, like he was too exhausted to move.

"Can we—Can we go to the park? The sun is still out and I finished all my homework."

"Y/n can take you," Harry said.

"Or we can watch a movie? Or—"

"Harper, I think Dad is tired. Why don't we—"

"He's always tired!" Harper said suddenly. "He never wants to spend time with me or talk to me! Why are you acting like this!" She went over to Harry and began to shake his shoulders, her cheeks red and eyes imploring. "Wake up! Wake up!"

Harry didn't do anything at first, letting his daughter shake him and pound her fists against his chest. Your eyes welled with tears and your throat tightened as you watched, caught between pulling Harper off and letting her get her emotions out, half hoping it would stir something in her father. It didn't.

"I hate you! I want mom!" she finally said when Harry was still practically catatonic.

He said nothing, but you could see the tears in his eyes as she stormed off, flinching when he heard the door to her room slam two floors up. His shoulders shook of their own volition then, accompanied by tears and sobbing.

"She didn't mean it," you said, pulling him into your chest. Harry's grip was tight despite his lack of nourishment as he continued to cry, warm tears bleeding through your shirt. "She's dealing with this too."

"I don't know how to be what she needs," he sobbed. "I don't think I can."

Your heart broke for the two people you loved most in this world. You'd tried so hard to help Harry and Harper, to take care of her while he got back on his feet. But he hadn't, and now you felt like you were standing at a crossroads.

"I think it might be time to—" you stopped, getting choked up yourself, "to maybe go somewhere."

That got his attention enough to stop crying for a moment. "Go somewhere?"

"I've...looked into a couple places," you said gingerly. "Facilities. Where you can rest and get better and meet with grief counselors and groups. Get the help that you need, you know?"

When Harry's wife died, you obviously didn't expect him to bounce back right away, but you also didn't anticipate the state he was in now. Everyone grieved differently, you knew that, but his grief was all-consuming, slowly eating away at him and leaving him hollow. You did what you could to support him and Harper, but you had your own life, your own job, which was starting to become less and less understanding every time you left early to pick Harper up from school. You did it all happily and willingly because you loved both of them, but none of you could keep going like this.

"I'm not sick," he said. "I'm not an addict. I don't need to go to rehab."

"I love you, H, and I'm worried about you," you said. You put your hands on either side of his face so he had to look you directly in the eye. "Harper loves you, and she wants you to be her dad. You have so many people that love and care for you, Harry, and we all want you to be okay again."

"My wife died, Y/n. I'm never going to be okay again," he said, pulling away from you harshly, voice sharp. "How can you say that? You really think it's so easy? The mother of my child is gone, and she can never come back, and you what? You want me to just forget about her? Forget what we had? I bet you'd love that wouldn't you. That's probably why you've been so eager to 'help' Harper and me. Don't think for one second that you could ever replace her. So just go!"

It didn't matter that you knew this outburst was one of rage filled grief, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. You felt like you'd been slapped, like Harry had reached his hand into your chest and crushed your heart. That was never your intention. Harry was a friend, a dear one, but a friend just the same. And Harper was your goddaughter. You couldn't just sit by and let the two people you considered family fall apart.

But maybe you weren't who he needed.

"I know you think you'll never be okay again, but you will," you said quietly. "Because you love Harper, you will be. One day you'll stop resenting her for not being Sophia, and one day you'll stop resenting Sophia for leaving you. It'll always hurt, I know that, but one day it'll hurt a little less."

You stood up from the floor and smoothed your trousers, sniffling a little. Harry had gone back to staring blankly, but the tight clench of his jaw told you he was listening. "Bye, H."

You didn't leave right away. You made a phone call to his mom first, asking her to stay with Harry and Harper, not explaining why you couldn't be the one to check up on them anymore. Anne had asked you to keep an eye on the pair after she went back home after staying at Harry's place for a month. You'd already planned on doing so, but you agreed. Now the tough love needed to come from someone else. When Anne told you she was on her way, you went upstairs to Harper's room to check on her.

She was crying on her bed, her body curled into a ball around a stuffed animal. Sighing, you walked over to her and sat on the corner of her bed and soothed her back with your hand. "I know you didn't mean that, Harper Rose."

"Why is he acting like that?" she cried, not looking up at you. "Why won't he play with me anymore? Or take me to school?"

"He..." You didn't even know what to say to make this better. "Your dad is...sick."

"Like my mom was?" Harper asked. She sat up, her little face red from crying.

"Not—Not quite," you said, trying not to get choked up. Sophia had been a dear friend to you too. "His heart hurts so much that he can't, or doesn't know how to...function properly. Does that make sense?"

Harper nodded as she wiped a tear from her eye. "He's heartbroken."

"I think so."

She didn't say anything for a minute, as if she was processing that information about Harry. Then, "Does that mean I love my mom less if I'm not heartbroken like that?"

Her words made you pinch your arm to hold back your tears. It wasn't fair to Harper that she had to deal with all of this at a young age; she didn't deserve to have these thoughts or ask these questions, and selfishly, a part of you deep down felt you didn't deserve to answer them.

"No, of course not, kiddo. Your dad just—you and your dad loved her differently. And I think part of him is sad that you lost your mom and not just that he lost his wife."

"I don't understand," she said, her voice trembling. "When will he be normal again?"

"Do you think you'll feel normal again?" you asked her gently. Harper shrugged, more tears silently leaking out of the corners of her eyes. "People's hearts and minds react differently when someone dies. And right now, your dad's mind is telling him not to get out of bed or take care of himself or take care of you. It doesn't make sense to you or me, but it makes sense to him."

"Oh." Harper looked contemplative again, her eyes trained on the yellow patterned bedspread beneath her. Everything in her room was some shade of yellow—walls, curtains, lampshades, the sun behind the bedframe that Sophia painted—everything was made to feel warm and inviting. "What do we do now? How do we help him?"

"Well, what do you do when you're sick?"

"Go to a doctor."

"That's right," you said. "He's gonna go to the doctor, and the doctor will tell us what we should do. And in the meantime, you just keep loving your dad, okay? You're allowed to be angry and frustrated and sad, but never stop loving him. It might not look like it, but knowing you love him helps."

"Okay," Harper said.

"I called your grandma. She's gonna come stay with you for a little while while your dad gets better. She'll take you to school and pick you up and make you all sorts of treats with you."

"Why can't you take me to school?" she asked.

"I have to work," you explained. "But, if you need anything, you know my number. Just call me and I'll be there, okay? But you and Grandma will have fun, you always do."

You stayed in Harper's room until she fell asleep, smoothing her hair with your hand once more before standing up from the bed. You planned to stay until Anne arrived, but you figured you could tidy up and get the guest bedroom ready in the meantime. By the time she walked through the door, the guest room had been made up and the kitchen was squeaky clean. Harry never came out of his studio, or he went up to his room without you noticing but you were fine with that. You wouldn't have known what to say to him anyway.

You gave Anne the names of doctors and grief groups for Harry, and the name of a good child psychiatrist for Harper. You'd been meaning to set up a meeting for her, but you hadn't had the time, and it also wasn't really your place and you didn't want to overstep. Anne gave you a long hug before you left, thanking you for taking care of her family. Having someone hug you for once instead of the other way around was overwhelming, and you almost started crying right there in her arms.

But you held yourself together for a few more minutes as you pulled away. You promised to check in and help wherever and whenever you could, then you left, slightly relieved that Harry and Harper's well-being wasn't solely on your shoulders anymore and partly sad that you weren't able to help them more.

The first few weeks, you didn't come around the house as much, giving Harry his space. You met Harper at the park when your work schedule allowed it and had her over to your place for sleepovers when she asked.

Anne kept you in the loop, even when there wasn't much to report—Harper met regularly with a counselor and Harry didn't, Harper didn't wake up crying in the middle of the night as much and Harry still wasn't going back to work. Part of you felt like Harry needed more tough love than coddling at this point. You knew he wouldn't actually go to therapy unless you dragged him by the ear or eat something if you didn't sit with him until he was done. But it wasn't your place to dictate how he was helped, so you kept your mouth shut whenever Anne said he wasn't getting any better.

However, that all changed when Harry collapsed. He was so weak from not eating, he physically couldn't hold himself up. Or so Anne claimed. You didn't want to, but part of you thought there might have been some intention behind Harry's actions, or lack thereof. That was when you knew things had to change. If this were a movie, then that moment was the point of no return, and you weren't going to let Harry destroy himself anymore.

"If you get him in a car, I'll take care of the rest," you said to Anne the day after. She'd been apprehensive, but you insisted that this was the right choice. "He can't just sit alone on the floor of his studio all day. Either we do this now or his grief wins."

So it was settled. You didn't know how she did it, but Anne somehow got Harry up and in the passenger seat of your car. He clearly was not pleased by the whole thing, but with his lack of eating, he was no match for you or his mother.

"Where are we going?" he asked, arms folded angrily.

"My place."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not going to let Harper witness your path of self-destruction. You wanna die? You don't want to take care of yourself? Then you can do it at my place instead of in front of your daughter."

It was harsh, but Harry hadn't been particularly amicable these last few days. According to Anne, instead of catatonic, he was rude, his words sharp as a knife and just as cutting. His mother didn't deserve to deal with that, and neither did Harper, but you could handle him. Whether he liked it or not.

"Fuck you," he muttered.

"Fuck you," you replied simply.

Harry didn't say anything else the rest of the ride to your house, which was completely fine by you. You had a plan in place for Harry's stay, but you went over it again and again in your head, hoping it would work. You had Harry's meds, which he had not been taking, you picked out a grief group for him to attend, or one-on-one counseling if he didn't want to go to group therapy, you worked out a schedule that made sure Harry was constantly doing something rather than withering away on your couch. But first...

"You need a shower. I'm not living with you while you smell like that. And brush your teeth too."

"I thought you didn't care what I did," he said, begrudgingly following you into your house. It was much smaller than his, but that was for the better. It would be easier to keep an eye on him in close quarters.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. We all care about what happens to you," you said, leading him down the hall to your small guest room and bathroom were.

You gestured toward the bathroom when he set his small duffle bag on the bed, but he stayed where he was. "No."

"No?"

"You and my mum can drag me around and make me sleep in a different bed, but you can't force me to take medication, you can't force me to go to therapy, you can't force me to live," Harry spat. You took it on the chin, eyeing the way it seemed exhausting for him to just raise his voice at you. "I'm not a child, and I'm not one of your patients, so leave me the fuck alone."

"Lord, give me strength," you muttered to yourself before storming over to him.

You grabbed Harry by the collar of his sweatshirt and pulled him into the bathroom, where you promptly began to pull his layers off one by one.

"What the fuck?" Harry said, too surprised to fend you off, and too weak as well. "Get off of me!"

"You are a stubborn asshole," you spat, letting all the anger and frustration from the last few weeks seep into your voice. Once Harry was down to his underwear and socks, you quickly turned the shower on and pushed him in, holding your forearm against his chest as water sprayed both of you. "And selfish. You are a parent, Harry, you can't afford to fall apart, especially not in front of Harper. You can't do this to her. I won't let you."

Harry struggled against you, but not as much. He looked furious for having brought up Harper, though. But you kept going, needing to say everything that had been rattling around in your brain since he snapped at you.

"Sophia is gone, H," you said, voice gentle but firm.

"Shut up—"

"And it hurts. I can't imagine how much it hurts to lose your wife, but I—I know how it feels to lose a parent." Your voice began to waver, but you willed yourself to calm down. You didn't talk about it much, but you could relate to the situation at hand better than most. It was part of the reason why you helped Harry and Harper out so much. "Harper is strong and brave and charismatic. She's all the good things Soph was. Stop punishing her for it and celebrate it. She needs you, H. If you can't find it in yourself to get better for you, do it for your daughter. Don't do this to her."

Harry was crying by then, and you were too. Water sprayed the both of you, but he wasn't straining against you anymore. When it felt like he was starting to slide against the tiles to sit down, you didn't let him. "Don't do that," you said, using all your strength to hold him up. "Don't let it consume you. Lean on me if you have to, but don't—don't sit down."

To your surprise, he didn't. Harry let you give him a scrub down, starting with his hair and then sponging his body with soap. You left his briefs on for his sake. As a nurse, you were used to seeing every part of the body, but Harry was your friend, not a patient. When you were done, you left him to dry off with a towel and dress with the instruction to be in the kitchen for dinner in twenty minutes. You didn't have to say what you would do if he didn't come. Harry got a dose of how forceful you could be very quickly.

So he came out of his room, and the two of you ate in complete silence. You didn't mind the quiet and were content to let Harry figure out whatever was going on in his head. You did keep an eye on him, though, making sure he didn't push his food around and actually ate it. He did, thankfully; you really didn't want to have to spoon-feed him too.

"Tomorrow I set up a group therapy session in town. It's super confidential, so you don't have to worry about that, but—"

"No."

"No? Really? We're doing this again?" you asked, only half joking.

"I don't want to go to group therapy," he said, and you could practically taste his displeasure for it across the table.

"Well, I thought you might say that, so I also scheduled one-on-one counseling, though I thought you might prefer the group. Less opportunities to talk when there are multiple people in one session." You picked up and quickly washed your plate before setting it down on the drying rack. "Tomorrow's session is at ten. Let me know what you want to do before then, but you're going to one of them. Oh, and you're responsible for cleaning up after yourself. Night."

You left Harry to his own devices after that, deciding to get ready for bed. It was going to be a long few weeks, or however long to get your friend back up on his feet, and you were going to need all the peace of mind you could get.

Three weeks later, Harry was still irritable. You knew he resented you for making him do, well, anything, but he still did them. He went to his group therapy sessions and cleaned up after himself in the kitchen. He just didn't like talking to you. Or acknowledging you. Or looking at you. You were pretty sure all the anger he had about Sophia dying and having to take care of Harper alone was now directed at you. You didn't necessarily mind being his outlet if it meant he was getting out of the house, but it did get exhausting at times. And it made for a very awkward car ride.

"I...can't pick you up from group today," you said as you neared the building where Harry's group sessions were.

"What the hell am I supposed to do then?" he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest like a child.

You gripped the steering wheel tighter so as not to whack him repeatedly on the arm. "Are you really that much of a pampered celebrity that you can't use public transportation? Or your own two feet?"

"Well why the fuck are you signing me up for this shit if you can't take me. I don't even want to go to these stupid meetings."

In a split second, you pulled over and put the car in park. "Get out."

"What?"

"You heard me," you said, the frustration you'd been pushing down the last three weeks finally bubbling to the surface. You'd been patient, you'd done what you thought was right for Harry and his family, but you couldn't be his punching bag anymore. "I've been taking you to these meetings because I want to help you, because I want to help Harper, but you have...kicked and screamed like a child every step of the way, and I—I want you to be better. I want you to be able to handle your emotions in a healthy way, but I—" I give up, you wanted to say, but even you weren't that mean in the midst of your anger. "You're an adult, Harry. I can't force you to go to therapy, so don't. Get out. Do whatever the hell you want."

Harry looked at you for a moment, surprised by your outburst. His mouth was pressed into a hard line, his eyes roving around your face. Searching for what, you weren't sure. Maybe he didn't think you would ever actually kick him out. You gave him as good as he got when he snapped at you, but you never expressly kicked him out. You were pretty sure he was deciding if you were serious or not.

"Out!" you said when he still hadn't opened the door. Now you were going to be late to work.

"Fuck! Fine," he said, then he was opening the door and getting out of the car. It shut with a definitive slam, but you didn't wait around to see Harry glare at you as you rushed back onto the street.

Work sucked, which made your mood that much worse. You normally liked your job at the hospital. It was busy and made you feel like a zombie at the end of most shifts, but the work was rewarding, and you were good at it too. You ran the Labor and Delivery room like a tight ship, everything and everyone had a place. But tonight you were slammed, one issue after another for you to solve. Normally you could handle the stress, but your nerves had been frayed for weeks, and every minor inconvenience didn't feel so minor right now.

Nothing was going your way, patients' families were being bigger assholes than usual, and the charting system was being glitchy. Not to mention you were pulling a double shift, so it was safe to say you were tired out of your mind, irritated, and not as chipper as you normally were amongst the normal amount of stress.

"Y/n, have you taken your lunch yet?"

You looked up from the computer at the nurses' station where one of your coworkers was standing on the other side. "Look at this place, Miranda. When would I have the time?"

The Labor and Delivery wing of the hospital was full of patients, excited family members in the waiting room, OB interns, and nurses trying to maintain order. You could always expect a good number of people in this wing of the hospital, but today was more crowded than usual. In-laws that wanted to be in the delivery room were driving you crazy in a way that they normally didn't, and a surgical intern tried to talk down to you, which tried your practically non-existent patience. It was safe to say that your pink scrubs were very misleading about your disposition today.

Miranda narrowed her eyes at you. "It's thirty minutes."

"I can't. I have to get these charts updated because these idiots we call interns don't know how to—"

"Y/n?"

"God, tell me this is not happening," you muttered before looking up from the computer again. Harry was standing at the nurses' station next to Miranda, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "I can't do this with you right now."

"I know. I just wanted to—"

"I can take your bitching at home, but not here," you said, going back to your computer. Everything you'd felt this morning was still simmering in you, and you didn't want to make a scene at work.

"I just came to apologize," he said, his voice lacking the harsh edge it'd had since he'd been staying with you.

You shook your head and picked up a chart as you began to walk away. "Honestly? I don't have time for that, either, H."

Perhaps you shouldn't have been so flippant, but you were at work, for one. You got into a certain headspace to keep everything and everyone in order, and you couldn't compromise that on a hectic day like this, even if Harry had come to say he was sorry.

"But, Y/n, you still have to take your lunch!" Miranda said.

Stopping in your tracks, you turned back around. Your arms were crossed as you gave Miranda a look, but she just stared right back. She was always the one who looked after you while you looked after everyone else. Sighing, you walked back over to the nurses' station to hand over the chart on your hands. "Ten minutes."

"The law says thirty."

"Fifteen," you amended, then left before Miranda could argue with you. You heard footsteps behind you, and while you knew they were Harry's, you didn't do anything to stop him from following.

The break room was small, just big enough to hold a refrigerator, some cupboards, and a table with a few chairs. You didn't spend much time here, but it did see a lot of foot traffic despite its size.

Sitting down at the table, you rested your head in your hands, your eyes closing for a few seconds now that you let yourself have this short break. Your feet hurt and your head pounded, but you managed to stand up anyway and make yourself a cup of coffee.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, though you weren't really sure you cared. Not right now anyway.

"I wanted to apologize," he said right away, like he was afraid you weren't going to let him speak.

You laughed a little. "Oh? What for?"

You knew you were being difficult, but you couldn't help it. The way Harry treated you had all come to a head this morning, and the shit day at work didn't help your mood, either. Staring at him over the rim of your coffee mug, your heart softened the tiniest bit. He looked like a scolded puppy with his head tilted down and his hands behind his back. It was hard for you to balance the anger you felt for the way he treated you and acknowledge the fact that it was his grief that was making him act this way. There's no wrong way to grieve. It was something you knew and understood, but Harry's grief process didn't make your life any easier.

"I've been...horrible to you," he said, though he still wouldn't look at you. "I—I know you've been trying to help Harper and me, and all I've done was take everything I've felt out on you."

It was hard to find the right words to say. You didn't want to just excuse his behavior by saying he was grieving, but you knew he would never treat you the way he had been otherwise. But that didn't make it hurt any less.

"What made you come to this conclusion?" you decided to ask, curious to know the answer.

Harry smiled sheepishly and chuckled to himself in a way that was embarrassed more than amused. "Therapy. I went after you kicked me out this morning. Thanks for that, by the way."

You couldn't help but grin a little, at the very least because you hadn't seen Harry smile in months. "You're welcome."

"I'm really, really sorry, Y/n," he said once the air in the room sobered again. "I don't know if I could ever say it enough, or express how thankful I am to you for being there for Harper when I couldn't. I'm sorry for all the horrible things I've said and the way I've acted. I, um, I don't magically feel better, but for the first time since Soph died, I want to be."

You believed him when he said that. There was an air about Harry that seemed different than the last few months. And the fact that he was apologizing at all and seemed to have a small grasp of his feelings said a lot. And you wanted to believe him too, for the sake of his own health and happiness as well as Harper's.

"I know it was your grief that made you...act a certain way, but thank you for apologizing," you said.

"Things won't immediately go back to the way they were, I know that, but," Harry said, wiping the corner of his eye. "I wanted to take Harper out to dinner tomorrow night, and I'm hoping you'll join us."

"Not tonight?"

"No. I think I just want to go home and be with my daughter tonight," he said, sounding a little nervous and a little hopeful. "And I'm sure you're sick of me, so I thought I'd let you have a night to yourself."

You took a moment to look at your friend, really look at him. Harry's frame was still narrow, he was paler than usual, and the angles were still a little too sharp and pronounced, but his hair was neat and his eyes were clear, and he just looked different overall.

Standing up, you walked to where Harry was still standing by the entrance to the break room and threw your arms around him. A wave of emotion hit you the second his arms wrapped around you, and you couldn't help the sob that escaped your lips as you held him tight. He felt so frail, like he could blow away with the next breeze. It pained you to feel how everything affected him physically.

"You scared me," you said. Perhaps it was too soon to admit, but you needed to say what had been weighing on your heart since he collapsed. "You pissed me of and drove me insane, but above everything, I was terrified."

Terrified of losing him, terrified of not doing what was right by him or Harper, terrified that he'd never be the same. The fear of losing Harry to his grief kept you up most nights. More than the poisonous words or cold shoulders or childish behavior, you'd been so scared of every worst case scenario it nearly made you sick.

"I'm sorry I've put you through so much. You lost her too."

That made you squeeze Harry even harder. You'd known Sophia first and had been the one to introduce her to Harry. The three of you had been friends for a long time before Harry and Soph had even started dating, and you stayed friends long after. She wasn't your sister, but in a lot of ways she was family, and so were Harry and Harper.

Eventually you pulled away, wiping your eyes and stepping back from his embrace. You felt a little awkward, but lighter too, and hopeful for the future.

"So you'll come? To dinner?" Harry asked, his own eyes lined with tears.

Harry wasn't magically healed. He still had a long road ahead of him to be healthy again, not to mention mending his relationship with Harper. But you decided to believe that he was on the mend, that he was open to getting proper help and taking the right steps to manage his depression.

"It would be my pleasure."

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #hs angst

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waldau · 3 months

Text

tomorrow — jeon wonwoo | 2,049 words | fluff

in the words of james acaster: starting making it, had a breakdown, bon appetit. also i saw the news about mingyu's post and laughed for a minute straight 💀

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

being sick sucks in general, but wonwoo thinks it's worse when he's on tour. he's supposed to be seeing new places with his friends, meeting fans and doing what he loves the most for them. in short, he's supposed to be having a good time.

instead, he's stuck in his hotel room all by himself, his limbs trapped inside an insanely heavy comforter which can't possibly be that heavy. and it's not even comforting him right now.

this is all wrong. he should be on the other side of the world, with you, eating the stuff you've made, or going on inadvisable, impromptu snack drives when you can't sleep. he shouldn't be in agony because of some random street food he decided to try with the rest of the group. that he somehow had no tolerance for.

either way, he really misses you, and has even resigned himself to counting the seconds that are passing so that he can bore himself into sleep and make tomorrow come faster. time is supposed to be an illusion, anyway.

his door opens slowly, and his heart jumps against his ribs for a second. there's no way you—

"hyung," comes mingyu's voice, low and concerned. he shuts the door behind him. "how are you feeling?"

"better. but still tired."

mingyu makes a sad noise. "hungry?"

"not at all."

"you sure?"

"yeah."

"okay, uh, we're all going for dinner now. we'll be back in a couple of hours, because dino wanted to visit the park nearby, but if there's anything you want, just let me know, okay?"

wonwoo feels the weight of his phone being set on his chest through the comforter. the block of metal and chips is the only thing that's his link to you right now.

"call me if you want me to get something warm and safe to eat before you sleep."

wonwoo wants to thank him, but he can't even muster the energy to keep his eyes open. he feels mingyu ruffle his hair briefly before chuckling, because that's something he doesn't normally do when wonwoo's awake. wonwoo allows it, just this once, mainly because there's nothing he can do about it.

"see you." and just like that, the room's empty once again.

wonwoo feels his eyes grow heavier after a while, head filled with thoughts about the group's next show and thoughts of you. he wonders what you're doing right now, whether you're sleeping, keeping well, or thinking of him with the same desperation with which he's thinking of you right now.

wonwoo loves you, and knows you love him despite the erratic schedules of his work, but sometimes being apart from you is the worst thing that he has to do.

he's thankful for the thick comforter because he can feel the temperature in the room dipping, and he finds himself going back to sleep again.

the light sound of a conversation is what finally brings him out of his sleep. he hears some snorts from near the foot of his bed. when he opens his eyes fully, having slept better than he has the whole day, he sees someone exiting his room. minghao, probably, going by his build. and there's someone still sitting by the foot of his bed, accompanied by the sound of shoes being kicked off.

it's you.

wonwoo lets out a chuckle and turns around to bury his face in the pillow.

"that's all you're going to say? after all the distance i travelled to get here?"

wonwoo turns around to see you inching closer to him, till your eyes are at the same level.

"are you real?"

you stare at him for a moment before you laugh, and oh, he's in love. it's nothing new — he's already known he loves you, for a long time, but now it's something more, because you're not a dream, and you're really here.

(you're his dream, but that's another topic for another day.)

"absolutely real. here, see?" you say, pushing his hair away from his face. he can see you better now, but you're blurry.

"this is unfair."

"what is, baby?"

"i want to kiss you, but i can't even see you properly. after all the distance you travelled to come see me."

he sees you smile before you reach over him and beckon him to sit up, gently placing them on his face and pushing them upwards till he's comfortable. better.

and you're even better.

"hi," you say, smiling a bit shyly. wonwoo figures it's because he's staring at you unabashedly right now, but surely you can't fault him, not when it's been almost a month since he's been away from you?

"hey, sweetheart," he says, glad you're able to hear it in person and not through a tinny phone speaker. "kiss me?"

"did you mean to say miss me?"

you have a cheeky smile on your face now. wonwoo shakes his head. "of course i missed you. but i want to kiss you. right now."

"you have no idea how badly i want to, but i think you know it's for the best if i don't."

wonwoo frowns at that. just because it's true it doesn't mean it's okay.

"here," you say, before you press a kiss to his forehead. wonwoo feels the tension in his shoulders melt away, his head sinking back into the headboard. you hesitate before pressing a soft kiss to his lips that leaves him wanting more.

"you said—"

"i know," you groan, pushing yourself away immediately. "i'm sorry. but i'm going to kiss you so much after you get better, so you better be ready for that."

it's a threat he can't wait to experience.

"how're you feeling?" you ask, hand combing through his hair. "did you have the medicine mingyu got you?"

"mm."

"feel like having anything?"

wonwoo tries saying something, but his throat feels dry all of a sudden. he extracts a hand from the comforter and points to his throat.

"water? tea?"

"tea...?"

you nod, for the bedside table for a flask he didn't even notice was there before.

"minghao dropped it by before leaving," you explain, filling a cup with some of the tea and setting it on the table. "lemon and honey. he said it'll help."

wonwoo's thankful, but he wants to know more about what you're doing here. "sorry," he says, his hand finding yours. he traces the shape of your palm and fingers, convincing himself you're really here.

"for?"

"you're supposed to be at work. i'm keeping you here."

"pfft. i wouldn't be here if i didn't want to surprise you, okay? it just happened that you fell ill. i'm doing this for me as much as i'm doing it for you. plus, it's a saturday tomorrow."

"oh," is all he can say.

"this tea isn't going to drink itself, you know."

wonwoo sniffs and picks up the cup. he holds it for a few seconds before his hands tremble, and he would have spilled it all over the comforter if it weren't for your hands that immediately took the cup from him.

"hot," he mumbles. "too hot."

you tut. "it's normal, baby. i'm sorry. i thought you'd have been feeling a bit better by now."

wonwoo makes a sound of displeasure. "it hates me."

you laugh, and he feels a bit better again. or maybe he's just imagining it. but it feels good. "no, it doesn't."

"it totally does. i should be sleeping by now."

"you should sleep after you have something. did you have anything since this morning?"

"mm. some soup. and...soup."

you give him a look. he doesn't know what to make of it, but he doesn't want it to be on your face for any longer.

"want me to help you have the tea?"

wonwoo nods and sits up slowly, still weak. he hasn't been this drained in ages, but he's glad you're here. his eyes close when he feels the cup touch his lips.

minghao doesn't joke about when it comes to tea. you sit in silence while he finishes the entire cup, word finally dislodging themselves from his throat.

"it's unfair."

"again? what is?"

he wipes messily at his glasses with his knuckles to see you clearly. "these keep fogging up..."

you take them off for him gently. he watches as you wipe his glasses clean with the edge of your shirt, looking at them in the light before placing them back on the bridge of his nose. better.

but the next sip ruins it again. wonwoo lets out a frustrated groan that turns into a laugh and you join in, and he wonders how he ever expected himself to go through the night without you.

you make sweater paws with your shirt and wipe his glasses gently. "i'll clean them however many times you want me to," you say softly. "but i'll still be here tomorrow morning, so you don't need to worry about not seeing me."

wonwoo wonders if you know how much better you're making him feel by just being here. your hair's not in its usual near state, your shirt is wrinkled, and you look exhausted, too, but it's you. and your familiar perfume, the softness of your hands, the love in your every move. and you're here, is the best part of it.

"just some more," you say, filling the cup again. "then you can sleep."

"i don't want to sleep," wonwoo mumbles, taking a sip. it really is helping him; his throat feels so much better than it has all day. "i want to talk to you."

"we can talk tomorrow when you're feeling even better, baby," you say, resting your hand on his chest. "you need your sleep right now. and i'm right here, okay?"

he knows you're right, but it doesn't quell his want to make up for the past month of virtual conversations. as he takes slow sips of his tea, he notices you looking at him.

"what?"

"hm?"

"you're staring."

you look at him, then look away. "missed you."

he somehow feels it's more than that. "that's all you're going to say?" he asks, parroting your words from earlier.

you meet his gaze, but you're blushing this time. huh.

"it's just...you've been looking so...good, recently," you say. "i've been seeing your videos, and stuff the boys keep sending me. i've missed you a lot. and i'm glad you're...that you're mine, you know?"

"i know," he says, eyes shutting for a moment, a smile spreading over his face. i know how it feels to feel that way.

you take the cup from him and promise to be back in ten minutes after your shower. wonwoo starts counting the seconds again, this time to make you come back to him faster. he likes to think it's worked, when it takes less than 600 seconds for you to be back next to him again.

you switch off the lights and settle down next to him in bed, scrolling through your phone while wonwoo gets used to the darkness again. a series of poorly muffled giggles gets him to open his eyes and turn to you.

"what's up?"

you show wonwoo your phone, still laughing. it's a picture of mingyu looking up and to the side while perfecting his angle for the camera. wonwoo presumes it's from the place dino wanted to go to. when you swipe to the next slide, it's the same picture. so is the next one. and the next one.

"what a goof," you giggle affectionately. "and he's deleted the post. i'm so going to tease him about this tomorrow."

wonwoo smiles at that. of course you will, and wonwoo will, if you forget.

you set the phone aside before moving a bit closer to him, enough for him to drape an arm around your waist.

"better?"

"now that you're here," he says honestly.

he knows you're blushing. "sleep well, okay?"

"you too, sweetheart."

wonwoo gets to see you tomorrow. he gets to go home with you after his final show tomorrow and spend the next two months at your place because there's nowhere else he has to be.

being sick sucks in general, but maybe it's okay just this once. because it brought him you earlier than he would have thought.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched

#WONWOO MENTIONED RAHHHH WHAT IS SANITY #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #svt #svt fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #fluff #waldau writes

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spookwyrdie · 11 days

Text

Call Waiting...

sub!Changbin x dom!reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: You haven’t been quite honest with him about your visit. Nothing makes Changbin more relaxed than a little play date, and it’s been a few weeks since he’s had the time and energy to get on his knees for you. You've decided to take matters into your own hands, literally.

genre: SMUT, office AU, gentle femdom

warnings: adult dialogue, sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, gentle femdom, semi-public sex, office sex, on-the-phone, mouth kink, handjobs, edging, mild choking

18+ only, minors DNI

a/n: This is shameless smut, I can't stop thinking about sub! Changbin tbh.

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I've only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

Sharp heels click on the lovely marble floors as you saunter your way from the reception desk towards his office door. The space is a lovely mix of black and gold, the furniture sleek and the space tidy. You take your time, knowing that the sound of your heels will greet him before you get to his office door. You raise a perfectly manicured hand and rap your knuckles on his door.

It swings open immediately, Changbin’s face beaming in surprise. “Y/n! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He swoops you into his space, closing the door quietly behind you. The smell of dark leather and a clean cologne greets you. The sleeves on his crisp white dress shirt are neatly rolled up, black suspenders in place, the top button of his collar undone. The definition of his wide shoulders is highlighted by his attire. His muscles bulge with every small movement he makes, your eyes are roaming all around his body before you realize he’s waiting for you to reply with a smirk on his face.

You hold up the takeout bag in your hand, “I thought today would be a nice day for a lunch date. Don’t worry, I checked in with your assistant before I came over, I know you have a free hour or so to spend with me.”

“I’m expecting a call in a little bit, but I can always make time for you,” he says as he drapes an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek lightly.

You set the bag down on his desk and start taking out the little plastic trays arranged so artfully. “I made a special order to our favorite sushi place just for you. You deserve it.”

He moves the scattered papers on his desk, placing them into a black folder. He was apparently hard at work before you came to surprise him with lunch. He moves to his chair and settles into it with a weary sigh. “I’m glad you’re here, my love. It’s been a tough one today with this client and you’re a wonderful distraction.”

You hand him some chopsticks and put together his meal for him. “I could tell something has been off for a few days, sweets. You need something to help you relax, which is why I'm here.” You toss him a wink, for good measure. You eat together, comfortable chat about nothing in particular passes between you two, giving Changbin a small reprieve from the mental strain he’s been dealing with.

You haven’t been quite honest with him about your visit. You love bringing him lunch on a particularly stressful day, but you have your own ulterior motives. Nothing makes Changbin more relaxed than a little play date, and it’s been a few weeks since he’s had the time and energy to get on his knees for you. You haven’t had him writhing and whining beneath you in an age and you’re beginning to miss it. You never press the issue but seeing how worked up he’s been getting from constant tasks, you have decided to take matters into your own hands, literally.

After you both finish up, he leans back and pats his belly with a contented sigh. “Thanks love, I really needed that.”

You stand and walk around his desk slowly, swaying your hips for good measure, stopping within inches of him at his chair. “You still look tense; I’ll give you a little shoulder rub before I go.” You put your hand out for him to pull him out of his chair and sit in his place. You pat your lap, gesturing for him to get comfortable. Changbin looks at you for a moment, you can watch the gears turning slowly in his head, trying to anticipate how this will go. In the end, he gingerly sits on your thighs.

You wrap your arms around his midsection and pull him flush with your body. Changbin sits a little taller than you from this angle which is perfect for peppering the back of his neck with small kisses. He giggles and cranes his neck away; you love how ticklish he is. Your hands on his shoulders begin to knead slowly, finding all the knots and tension in his broad back, massaging them out and turning him into putty in your hands.

Soon his head is lolling to the side, entranced by your fingers and your care. It gives you the perfect opportunity to scrape your teeth lightly at the junction between his neck and shoulder, drawing a whimper out of him as he rocks his hips forward. You latch down and give a light suck to his skin, not enough to leave a mark but enough to have him collapse back against you with his hands gripping the armrests of his chair hard. You chuckle into his neck, “Feeling a little sensitive today?”

He whines at you poking fun at him as one hand snakes around his waist and the other wraps around his neck. He is pliant in your hands, a delicate squeeze has him moaning “Darling…” You smile against his skin at the use of your title, the little detail telling you he’s slipping into the deep neediness he’s been denying himself these past few weeks. You’re “Darling” when he wants you to take control, turn him into a babbling mess, and lose himself in you.

He’s grinding subtly in your lap at the pressure you’re applying to his throat, seeking any sort of relief. Your hand around his waist wanders around his body, brushing up against one of his nipples and you feel his stomach muscles contract. He shudders a deep breath out as you slowly rub the sensitive bud, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink hue. The hand on his neck remains, barely applying any pressure, just a feeling of reassurance collaring him. Changbin grasps at your arm with his hands, an anchor for him, something to hold onto while his hips jolt upwards.

Your hand abandons his nipple to slide down his torso, feeling his abdominal muscles jump at the contact. It travels further down to rest in between his thick thighs, muscles straining the material of his well-tailored pants. He’s already desperately hard, practically throbbing through all the layers of fabric as you drag a nail up his constrained cock. He picks his head up to from your shoulder to watch your hand dance around his length, mesmerized by your movements. Just when it seems like you’re about to grasp him fully, you move to tease him a little more by dragging your nails up his inner thigh. His cock twitches in his pants and he shudders against you with a whine frustration.

“Shhhh…” you whisper in his ear as you squeeze a little tighter to the sides of his neck. “If you want to cum, you have to be good for your Darling, okay?” He presses his lips together and nods, a small mmmph noise huffing out of him. “Good.”

When your hands leave his neck and his cock, he gasps at the loss - only to let out a strangled squeak when you grab his suspenders, pull them up, and snap them back down against his chest. The metal adjusters on the straps sting his pecs, so you smooth your hands under the straps and push them down his shoulders, making sure to pay careful attention to the sore skin underneath the metal. You press a kiss just beneath his ear and he melts back into you with a hiss.

The crisp shirt tucked into his pants gets wrinkled when you pull it free from his waistband. Your fingers nimbly unbutton his pants, sliding the zipper down at an excruciatingly slow pace, making sure he feels the vibrations of every tug against his cock. Your hand slips down and you palm him over his tight boxer briefs, his hips shaking as he grinds into your hand. A small wet spot has already appeared on the fabric concealing his cock from your bare skin, his whimpers come out low and staccato as he lifts his head again to watch your hands again.

You chuckle at his desperation, “I hardly need to do anything, I bet you could cum from just thrusting up against my hand like this.”

“N-no-” he begs. “I can be good!”

“Oh? Can you?” His hips are still gyrating into your hand.

“Yes, Darling,” he stutters out, his hips halting beneath your touch, his thighs beginning to tremble from the effort to keep still.

“Good job, sweets. You’re being so good today,” you murmur into his ear. Your palm leaves him, and you hear a protest start to rise in his throat, his breath hitching when your fingers dance along the elastic of his waistband. Gently, you trail them underneath the elastic, to the sensitive skin of his pelvis. His hips begin to shake again as he holds his breath, hungry for your approval more than he wants to chase his orgasm. Your pinky finger lifts the elastic away from his body slowly, pulling up inch by inch until - snap! You let it bounce back onto his hips again as he hisses at the slight sting.

You push the elastic down his hips enough to let his cock spring free from its confines, slapping against his lower belly. It’s already red and weeping and you drag one finger through the wetness beading up from the tip of his cock. Bringing it to his lips, you press gently into his mouth. He sucks at your finger, groaning at the taste and you watch more pre-cum leak out of his pulsing head.

"Feet up against the desk,” you say, tapping his thigh. He obliges, lifting his feet and bracing them against the edge of his desk. In this vulnerable position, his body is curled in, relying on you for most of his support. “If anyone walks in right now, they’ll see how much of a good little slut you are for me.” Your whisper in his ear has him shivering against you. “Say it, ‘I’m a good little slut.’”

“I- I’m a good little slut,” he pants out.

“Good boy.” You raise a cupped hand to his mouth. “Spit.”

He drips saliva into your hand, coating your fingers.

You grip his cock in your hand lightly, spreading his saliva onto his cock, still teasing him with the barest contact. He mewls at your touch, throwing his head back against your shoulder. You clamp a hand over his mouth as you begin to stroke him, long and languid movements, letting him feel every inch of movement. He throbs in your hand as he moans through your fingers. “If you’re not quiet, I’ll have to shove something in your mouth.”

He can’t help it, he’s already so fucked out, so deep inside his need for pleasure he can barely hear you. He whimpers as your hand leaves his mouth to reach down for the hem of his shirt. You lift it up, exposing his belly, a soft layer of flesh covering the thick muscles of his abdominals. Bringing the hem of his shirt to his mouth, you press it against his lips until he’s biting it between his teeth. “Good,” you murmur into his ear, as you take his earlobe between your teeth. His moan is muffled a bit by his shirt, and now your other hand is free to roam his torso again.

With the fabric of his shirt lifted to his mouth, your fingers easily find his exposed nipple, grazing it softly. His abs lurch at the touch, “Oh fuck,” he muffles through his shirt. He leans back again, pressing into you, as he cautiously thrusts up into your hand with every stroke. There’s a fine sheen of sweat coating his forehead now, the effort it takes not to drive into your hand, to chase his high, shakes through his whole body.

Just then, the shrill ring of the phone makes him gasp. Still at the mercy of your hands, he’s conflicted – ignore it and let you continue or do his job and pick up the phone. He’s already trembling, caught in the middle of his chaotic thoughts when you make the decision for him. Leaning forward, you take your hand off his nipple and reach for the phone. You pick it up gingerly, pulling the corded phone towards you as you lean back again, your other hand never leaving his cock. He turns to look at you, wide eyes and panic flooding his features. You place the receiver against your ear.

“This is the office of Mr. Seo. Please wait a moment while I connect you,” you grin at him with mischief in your eyes. You hand him the phone.

“H-hello, is this Mr. Lee?” His voice is remarkably steady for someone who was just panting through the cotton of his shirt a moment ago. A deeper blush erupts on his face at this twist.

“Yes....I’ve got a draft of the contract drawn up for what we’ve discussed,” he continues. You marvel for a moment at his professionalism and the sadistic side of you wants to push him. Your hand begins to stroke him again slowly, squeezing around the base of his cock with every down thrust.

“Yes....As per our agreement, the ffff-” his eyes slam shut, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration. “The forms should be f-faxed over later this afternoon...” He begins thrusting into your hand again, matching your unhurried pace.

“What?...Oh, yes.... I’m fine. Could we schedule a follow-up later? I apologize, but I have... an urgent m-matter to.... attend to,” his breaths becoming fast and hitched again. “I appreciate your f-flexibility, Mr. Lee.” He yelps as you nip at his neck again. Turning towards you, his eyes lock onto yours with a mix of frenzied desire and frustration at this turn of events. “T-thank you. Good-bye."

He lets the receiver drop to the floor once he hears the click and dial tone on the other end. Changbin turns to you, ready to scold you for that kind of move during a call, but you swoop in for a kiss and he melts. He whimpers into your mouth as your tongue caresses his and you start fisting his cock once again. You break the kiss and murmur against his lips, “You did such a good job, sweets. I think you deserve a reward for being such a professional.”

That aching hunger is painted on his face again as he nods, “P-please, Darling.”

You squeeze the base of his cock again, pre-cum trickling down his shaft, adding to the dripping wetness of his cock. A lewd slick noise fills the room as you pick up the pace. He starts to whimper again, eyes clamping shut and thrusting into your hand. You shove your hand into his mouth, gripping onto his lower jaw, to keep him from making too much noise. He moans again as he sucks hard on your fingers, the pitch of his whimpers getting higher. “I’m gonna c-”

You stop and grip the base of his cock again, hard. He spasms, a wanton whine like gravel in his throat, protesting the loss of friction. He whines around your fingers again, this time in a pleading tone, his eyes wet and sparkly with unshed tears. He lurches forward in your grasp as you coo into his ear, not letting him reach his high just yet. “I said you deserved a reward; I didn’t say it was going to happen right away.”

Changbin’s practically pulsating in your hand; you could feel his heartbeat twitching in the veins of his cock. You wait for his body to still, fighting to get control, to be good, because he knows nothing feels as good as your praise. As he relaxes into your arms again, you begin pumping his cock again, toying with it. You pop your fingers out of his mouth and grip his neck again. You apply a light hold to his neck, not constricting his airway, so his panting breaths still come freely. His hips start rocking again on their own accord, you know he’s in another headspace all together now, fully surrendered to you.

His hips start stuttering again, grunting against your hand around his throat, pushing himself into your grasp. Your thumb and middle fingers squeeze a soothing pressure into the sides of his neck. He’s trying to string some words together and failing, fully babbling at your hands. “P-plea-please,” he tries to say.

“Hmm? What was that, sweets?”

“Please....m-may I cum?”

“Please may I cum, who?”

“PLEASE may I cum, D-” he’s losing his words again, thrusting full speed into your hand, gripping onto your arm, balls tightening as he tries to hold himself back. “DARLING.”

“Of course, sweetheart. You just needed to ask politely.” You release your hold on his throat and bite down on the sensitive part between his neck and shoulder with that.

Changbin cries out, cock twitching in your hand as his hips stutter, losing their rhythm. With a few more pumps, he’s gushing, spurting all over his stomach, his chest, even his desk. His hands come to grip the chair behind your head as his hips rock through his orgasm. You clamp a hand over his mouth again to keep his volume down, but he’s gone, groaning into your hand as his whole body shudders. You milk Changbin through his orgasm until his whines take on a painful edge and he starts pushing your hand away, kicking his legs up to get away from the stimulation.

He collapses back onto you, totally spent. Your hands are the only thing keeping him in place or else he’d probably fall to the floor. You press small kisses to his face and neck as you bring him back down to earth. Your hands trail around his body, reviving him slowly with comfort. Your fingers card through his hair and he sighs into your touch.

After a few moments, he chuckles. “I’m going to have to teach you proper phone etiquette.”

You scoff in a mock horror, “Are you saying there’s something wrong with the way I answered?”

“Yes,” he giggles, eyes crinkling up. “You answered.”

“I was just helping you with work, my love.” You press a chaste kiss on his temple. He sits up to turn around. His body still shakes a little as he takes your face in his hands for a long kiss. As he pours emotion and gratitude into the kiss, you boil over with pride, a warm feeling erupting in your chest. He leans back, just a breath away from you, tenderness in his eyes and rubs little circles on your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Well, Darling,” he says, putting a cheeky emphasis on your title. “You can help me with work in other ways.”

His face grows serious and tender for a moment. “Thank you for this today, really. Only you can make me feel this relaxed when I’ve been having such a hard time.”

You peck him on the lips again, smiling into your kiss. “I do it because I love you.”

“Oh, only for that reason?” he says as he stands, pulling up his pants and readjusting his shirt and suspenders. He offers you a hand and pulls you up from the chair into his arms.

He kisses your nose, and you blush. “I’ll see you at home,” he says. “And if you think I won’t be returning the favor because of work, you’ve got another thing coming.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #changbin x reader #changbin x y/n #seo changbin #changbin #stray kids #smut #changbin smut

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justjams2003 · 4 months

Text

Fast Pace- 10

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae

Word count: 3,1k

Masterlist

Part 9~Part 11(coming soon)

"Carlos! Carlos! Carlos! Look! Look! Look!” Your excitement is uncontainable. There was a knock on the door early in the morning. You opened the door to a package in the hands of one of your security guards. With the name of one of the lesser-known clothing brands in Milan. You'd slept in the same bed as Carlos, and it’s brought you closer together. You jump on the bed, just barely missing his sleeping form, well, now no longer sleeping.

He doesn't even groan at your excitement. Instead, he wakes up with a smile. "Goodmorning, mi dulce niña, what has got you so riled up before 7 in the morning?” He asks, picking you up by the waist and placing you in his lap. "I got a package, see?” He rubs his eyes, now really waking up. He takes the box from your hands and reads the letter that came with.

"Dear, Y/N, we've seen your videos and would love for you to show off some of our best looks on the paddock. Gioia Bini.” He doesn't show much of a reaction, clearly though just a bluff, a wide grin covers his face. He grabs you and then pulls you close to him. His scruff tickles you as he places a thousand small kisses all over. Your neck, your shoulders, your cheeks.

You can't help but laugh, joy coursing through you. "I'm so proud of you!” His words feel like adrenaline through your bones. You can feel your childhood hopes and dreams spark alive again. This is a moment you'll be saving forever. Like a wallpaper for your mind. Because while he gives you words of praise you feel nothing but pure joy.

"Let me fit it, and you can help me chose when and which one.” The first one is that classic Ferrari read, never before have you realised how good you look in the colour. Or just how good it feels to see him look at you like that. As if you're worth a million, no, a billion dollars. The second one is a short, white dress.

"Mmh, a difficult choice. You know I love you in red, but I can't wait to see you in white.” "What?” Did he really just say that? Marriage? Yes, you're crazy about him, but you've only known him a month. But he doesn't answer. At all. He brushes it off as if he never said it. As if he meant to keep it in his mind or say it in Spanish.

He then checks his watch; he'd already gotten ready in his gym clothes. "We'll decide after the gym.” You smile and go to get ready for your everyday. "Okay, enjoy yourself,” yet before you could go change, he grabs you by the wrist. "Ah, ah, ah. You're joining me. Remember the deal?” The realisation hits you, he must be making a joke, he can't be serious.

Yet, he was dead serious about the smoking. He was dead serious about the healthy eating; you could see your hips becoming a bit softer and your legs just a bit rounder. His fingers come up to your chin and close your mouth. "You'll catch flies, why is this bothering you so much?” You rip your wrist from his hand.

"Fine.” You don't mean to sound so harsh, but you can feel the memories surfacing. You can't help but stare at yourself in the mirror. Does he not like your body? Does he want it different? Will he be taking your privilege if you don't go? You thought you were more to him? More than just a body. Is that why he won't touch you? He doesn't think your body is good enough yet?

"You're killing me,” you're heaving heavily. Squeezing your sides from the stitches as you hang over the treadmill. All while your sugar daddy and your shared personal trainer is laughing at your reaction. "You! This is all your fault. I thought you-” the word love plays on your tongue. No, he can't possibly love you. If he does, there must be something wrong with him.

"-cared for me! And now? Now you're trying to kill me.” You just barely peer over to him. He hasn't even broken a sweat and yet he's done 3 times more than you. "It's just a 10 minute run, Y/N. I understand you had that classic French diet, but we have to start somewhere.” Rupert explains, trying to encourage you.

It doesn't help, you can feel your lungs burning. But Carlos knows. He knows what motivates you, he knows what pushes your buttons. He tells Bob to go fill out your water bottle again. Then he does the same as before, lifts your chin and then brings your ear close to his mouth. "Come on, show Daddy you'll be able to keep up with me.” He shoots you a wink and before you know it, Bob is back.

Your cheeks are bright red, and you just hope and pray that the trainer will think it's from the exercise. "Alright, Rupert, peak health. As good as a high-performance athlete.” You send Carlos a wink, hoping that it has the same effect on him as it has on you. It doesn't he doesn't blush, not once, in fact his smirk grows wider.

"Carlos did what?” You bite your lip at Alexandra's reaction. "He gave me his card and told me to go shop.” Kika lets out a laugh. "We heard you; we're just shocked.” You look at the both of them, their opinions matter a lot to you. You want what they have, what they are. You want to join them on their girls-trips and always enjoy the hospitalities with them on the paddock.

"What? Does Pierre not do that?” You ask, feeling a bit like a deer caught in headlights. "I wish." She scoffs taking a sip from her drink. "Neither does Charles. I mean, he does give me presents and naturally we go on vacation together, but rarely does he just give me his card.” She still looks a bit taken back. "His Black Amex at that too.” Kika interrupts.

The realisation of just how different your relationship is hits you. You didn't think from the start that they're sugar babies, but you thought at least their boyfriends would treat them the same. Or at least, similarly. Even so, for the most part your behaviour seems more girlfriend than sugar baby. Should you be acting different?

"And the car too! Kika, did you see her car?” Alex calls out, putting down her drink. "Car?” Portuguese girl asks after swallowing her bite. Alex squeals and then pulls out her phone. At the moment, you feel like an outsider. You feel like they're gossiping about you, even if you're right next to them. She then shows Kika your Instagram, and they both swoon. Has she been watching you?

"You follow me?” She chuckles and nods, "Of course, girl, I've been stalking you since Charles told me Carlos got a new girl.” You chuckle, this all feels so schoolgirl. As if you aren't surrounded by some of the riches people on earth. "So, he's had plenty of girlfriends then?” She thinks for a moment, before backtracking on her words.

"I wouldn't call them girlfriends. They're more like flings than anything. But you... I think you're here to stay.” She takes your hands in her own. "Why do you say so.” Before she even starts speaking, she leers over her sunglasses to Brutis and Otis. "Because they've never been here before." You regret wearing the claw-clip now, because you're so ready to hide.

Kika finishes her drink, "Yeah, do they follow you everywhere?” She asks while turning back and waving to them. No reaction on their part. You sigh, letting go of Alex's hands and hiding your face. "Ugh, yes, it's Carlos' only fault. His protectiveness." Alex laughs and then shrugs. "It makes sense, the fans can be more dangerous than you realise..." It feels like the same speech he gave you.

"Yeah, didn't you see all those videos at the concerts? People are throwing things these days..." Kika agrees with Alex. If three people think the same, maybe it is logical? You haven't told Ilsa or Jasmine about them, you already know how they'll overreact.

"I guess he's just worried about me," both of the girls only hum, but like classic good friends they give each other a knowing look. "But they're not much fun, are they?" She reads you like a book, they've been such a drag. A looming figure you just can't get rid of. And you know other people are staring more at them than they are at you. After all, you're not even that famous. "Why don't we ditch them?" Alex asks, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "I don't know, I don't want to stress Carlos out. With the practice and all, I don't want him to get hurt..."

They both groan and boo at your hesitation. "He's not your dad, you don't have to do everything he says." Kika gives a sharp side eye, but she too has the playful aura. "Yeah, all three our boys are busy right now. We won't be bothering them. You can barely reach them when they're caught up in the media like this." She's right, so far you've just been sitting here eating lunch with them. After that, you have no idea. Carlos has so much to do and you honestly don't feel like getting in his hair. "Oh alright, how are we going to do this?"

"Woohoo! Isn't this so much more fun than sitting around with those old men?" You can barely hear her over the sound of the radio. You're driving down the streets of Milan, again. This time an even bigger budget in mind with your new girl friends.

Even better so that those two boys aren't here to ruin the party, they'd been blowing up your phone and you've been gladly ignoring them. Gucci scarves, Prada heels, Hermés handbags, anything you could dream off. All the while the three of you go crazy on your Instagram. Showing everyone the life.

"Oo girl, Carlos is going to attack you like some vicious animal when he sees you in that." Kika smirks as you all fit the lingerie on, after all the shopping and treats you all feel much closer together. You can only laugh, too ashamed to truly speak of all that is happening. Alex whines and places her head on your shoulder. "You really have the perfect guy." You can only laugh at her. "And what? Charles Leclerc is a deadbeat?"

He's getting paid more than Carlos, he's more stable with Ferrari than Carlos and they've been longer together than the two of you. She laughs and admires herself in the changing room mirror. "I really like him, don't get me wrong. But he's not obsessed with me like Carlos is with you."

You blush and begin changing back into your clothes. "I wouldn't say he's obsessed with me." You both leave the changing room at the same time, conveniently with Kika outside still deep in your conversation.

"Girl, have you seen the way he looks for you? All he does for you? What has it been? 6 Months? I would marry that man already if I were you. Just to make sure he doesn't get away." If you had a drink you would've spit it out. "Kika! It's a bit early, don't you think?" You're glad she shares your shock, otherwise you'd be certain that they're both crazy. "Not at all." You all three laugh at her, now you're really enjoying yourself.

The ringtone rings, Sade's Smooth Operator plays due to the ringtone. "Speak of the devil." You say, holding up your phone after paying. You answer the phone while walking out the doors. "Where the fuck are you?" You can't help but let a laugh escape. He must be joking or something, you've never heard this time from him. He's never been aggressive towards you, ever. "This is not something to be fucking laughing about. Get back to the hotel, now."

You fall back, behind the two girls, not wanting them to listen to the conversation. "Why? It's not even," you go to look at the time only to realise free practice has long since ended. Not to mention, it's almost 5. "Oh shit..." You mutter, not realising how long you've been out and about.

"Oh shit is right. Get back to the hotel. Now." His voice is much sterner than you've ever heard him be. Comparable to the rage you've seen in the videos, after he's been let down by his team, again. Have you let him down?

You open the hotel door. All while taking off your heels and putting them to the side. "Carlos?" You call out, not seeing him lounging around, likely guessing that he's changing. In your mind, he's supposed to go to the gym right around now. The trainer has kept your sessions three times a week for now. However, walking further into the hotel room you see him on the balcony. In his workout clothes, his back faced to you with the setting sun of Italy in the background.

"Carlos," he doesn't look to be as angry as he sounded on the phone. Then again, you've never really seen him angry. He turns to you, now you can truly gauge his emotions. "Where were you?" You go to answer him but he raises his hand. "More importantly why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" Anger, yes, it's prevalent, but more importantly you see fear. Utter frustration in his eyes, he looks like he's ran a  marathon.

You shrug, inspecting your still un-pedicured toes. That was one of the many things you plan on doing with your mom next week when you visit. "I didn't want to bother you. You were busy with the media." He scoffs at your words, his dark hair moving with his dramatic reactions. He repeats your words in a mutter. "So you thought it would be better to scare the living shit out of me?" He does look truly terrified. His usually soft eyes are now hard like rock. Like the amber stones his eyes so resemble.

"Do you know how it felt? I was in the middle of a drivers meeting. I thought someone took you from me!" You see tears form in his eyes. His backlash has a similar effect on you. You can feel the rock in your throat and the burning in your jaw. Yet still you don't dare say a word, after all you have nothing to say.

"Worse even, I thought you left me. I thought that they had said something that made you leave. That you realise you deserve much more than me." This makes you laugh, or maybe it's just to keep the sobs from escaping.

But the laugh seems to pierce his heart. "You're laughing? I'm ready to burn the whole of Italy just to find you and you're laughing?" Now, now you see anger. Raging burning anger. Like it's been locked in a cage and now it's free and gulping up oxygen.

"No, Carlos. It's funny to me that you think I deserve better? You quite literally took me in from the streets. Fed me with Caviar, clothed me with Gucci and cared for me like a king his queen, expecting nothing in return. And yet still believe I deserve better?"

Now it's his turn to laugh. You can see his fighting a battle in his mind. What to say and what not to say. "Can't you see? In five years I'll be washed up. Not a single Championship to my name and my money spent on stupidly expensive watches and cars that don't even hold one shopping bag. But you, you're immortal. Your beauty should be and I'm convinced will be remembered until every last mind withers from this earth.  Every single dime spent on you, is for the betterment of humanity."

How on earth can you really mean so much to him? What is it about you? How can one glance from an alleyway have this man in tears in front of you. You can't control yourself, you just need to feel his arms around you.

You need to hold him and comfort him. Tell him you'll stay forever. How sorry you are and that it won't ever happen again. And he lets you. He lets the tears fall in the crook your neck. His grip tighter than you thought possible. To the point where it aches. But, that's what love is, right? It aches.

He combs his fingers through your hair, whispering words that you'll never know what they mean. "Estoy obsesionado contigo. Si no puedo abrazarte por el resto de mi vida, entonces no tengo vida que esperar. Si no es en tus brazos donde muero, será en ese maldito coche de carreras, aunque tenga que asegurarme de ello."

Taglist is open, just ask!

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x reader #f 1 x reader #f1 xreader

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hufflefluff-stuff · 11 months

Note

could you write HL characters reacting to MC passing out due to exhaustion?

Thanks for being the first to request!! :D

Notes: MC has established relationships with the characters (individually). And I only did three bc I had good ideas for these ones specifically

Characters: Ominis, Poppy, Amit

............

Ominis Gaunt

In the days following Sebastian casting Crucio on you in the scriptorium, it left lingering effects on your physical body.

You felt sharp aches and pains in your hands at random, which made your wand movements rather jerky.

You really should've been resting, but you've been receiving lots of owls lately, finding yourself being pulled in several different directions and (mistakenly) deciding that sleep wasn't important right now.

But the exhaustion catches up fast, as Ominis finds you passed out in the Undercroft, immediately panicking and thinking you got attacked.

After you're floo'd to the hospital wing, Madam Blainey looks after you while he tries to explain how he found you without exposing the secret hideaway.

She noted seeing "unusual" red sparks coming from your body, and for a moment his heart drops...and he forces himself to choke back tears upon realizing what's actually going on with you:

You're still feeling the aftereffects of Crucio..and never told him.

Merlin, he wishes you never took the full brunt of the curse. Why did it have to be you?

Somehow he managed to fall asleep, but when you wake up the next day, see your boyfriend, and gently squeeze his hand, he's wide awake too, relieved to no longer detect those sparks.

You claimed to be extremely tired from all the errands you've been running....but when he asks you if "it" still hurts, you realize there's no playing dumb this time.

So you relent and explain the aches and pains, quickly reassuring him they're gone.

Yet nothing you could say in that moment mattered, as it didn't stop him from silently breaking down, laying his head in your lap as tears spilled from his glazed eyes.

This is extremely unlike him, but he can't help it...knowing that the same curse which traumatized him all those years ago was now hurting the one he loved most.

Not to mention you're giving more and more of yourself away to people you hardly knew without considering putting your own well-being first.

He never sees you anymore, and it hurts him.

"Don't you get it? You're killing yourself, MC, and...i-it's killing me, too." He sounds completely shattered. "Is this what it takes for you to finally understand?"

"No, no..you're right. This never should've happened. I'm sorry, love." Frowning in guilt, you pet his hair comfortingly, realizing how much you've neglected him. "You have every right to be angry."

"..I'm not angry. I just...I-I wish we never went down there. I should've stopped Sebastian from-"

"He's not to blame. Don't go yelling at him now." You chuckle softly, before promising him a date to Three Broomsticks as an apology..

Along with you swearing to stop doing favors for strangers.

He calms down after that, still vowing to yell at Sebastian later on.

But he's looking forward to that date.

Poppy Sweeting

You were both venturing through the Forbidden Forest, on a mission to rescue an injured golden unicorn that was supposedly spotted.

Apparently someone noticed it limping around, sporting a deep gash in its leg and leaving a bloody trail.

Poppy figured it narrowly escaped a trap, which was confirmed after you stumbled upon a mechanism tainted in blood.

Time was now of the essence, as some poacher could capture it first, or worse...it could die from its injury.

Despite the sun having set long ago, you insisted on searching even if it took you both all night long.

While Poppy could keep up with you (even tho she worried about the curfew), your energy was nearly spent as you've been out raiding poacher camps and freeing caged beasts all day long, not having returned to the castle once to rest nor eat.

You had plenty of wiggenweld potions, but unfortunately they didn't cure exhaustion.

Obviously you weren't gonna tell your girlfriend that, so you continued tracking down the golden unicorn.

And eventually you discovered it peacefully grazing in a foggy meadow, with Poppy gazing in awe.

"How majestic!" She whispers excitedly. "Now to catch it...we can try Leviosa, but it might panic. Glacius could work, too...though it seems cruel to freeze a unicorn. Hmm, what do you think......MC??"

She turns to you and sees you on the ground, not moving.

At first she freaks out, until she realized you still have a pulse, but she knew you had to get back to the castle ASAP. The forest was no place for a nap!

Fortunately, Highwing was in your nab-sack, so you both got back there in one piece, where you recuperated in the hospital wing.

Madam Blainey noted sleep deprivation, and while Poppy's upset that you didn't listen to her, she can't be entirely angry with you.

She knows you've been stretching yourself thin, saving all these beasts on top of your other escapades.

That being said, she literally had to push you back into bed so you didn't bolt out of it after remembering what happened before you passed out.

"But the golden unicorn..!" You panic. "He was right there! Now we'll never find out where-!"

"It's okay, MC! I saved him. He's safe and sound in the vivarium." She hastily reassures you, showing you a few strands of golden unicorn hair as proof. "We'll go once you feel better."

You calm down after seeing the strands, before you smile and embrace her tightly. "I'm so lucky to have you, Poppy."

"I am, too,love...I'm glad you value the health and well-being of beasts, but that shouldn't take priority over your own. We can't help them if we don't help ourselves first."

"..you're right, I'm sorry. I'll try to remember that."

Amit Thakkar

All of your escapades inside and outside the castle had you drained and exhausted. You wish you had more time for yourself nowadays.

But people needed you: friends, students from your house, professors, townsfolks, goblinkind....you couldn't just ignore their requests for help.

Who else but you had such bravery and ancient magic skills? Nobody. It had to be you.

You've kept your missions secret from your boyfriend, claiming you're only out all the time to look for astronomy tables...which is partially true.

After what happened in the goblin mine, Amit was left shaken for a few days, and you felt guilty for practically dragging him into that mess just because you needed him to translate some things.

So when he sent you an owl asking you to come by an astronomy table located in a field of grass without explanation, you abandoned your current mission and headed there straight away, anxious about what he wanted to discuss.

As it turns out, he knew you were doing more than just observing constellations...but he wasn't mad at you for keeping secrets.

Rather, he knew you needed a break and invited you out here to get away from everything.

He had a blanket that you two laid on together, watching the stars; not for any assignment in particular, but just because the sky was especially clearer and pretty tonight and he didn't want you to miss that.

"I like coming here when I feel like there's too much weighing down on me all at once. My studies, my responsibilities...they can get overwhelming." He sighs, turning to you. "I'm certain you feel the same way, my dear."

"Amit, this is lovely..and...I appreciate it more than you know. But Lodgok needs me to-"

"He can wait." His voice is firm, unusual for the typically calm and passionate Ravenclaw. But his gestures are the opposite as he wraps his arm around you. "Let's stay here a while, MC..and just...forget about the world. At least for tonight. I guarantee you will feel much better...and you'll shine twice as bright tomorrow."

You agree to stay, but only because you're weak to his sappy and poetic remarks.

And you close your eyes, listening to his soft ramblings of the moon's current phase and what it all meant.

While his fascination with the cosmos keeps him wide awake for some time, he sees you passed out on the blanket minutes later and smiles lightly, relieved that he helped you find some peace.

You promised to protect him down in the mines...now it's his turn to protect you as you slept, ensuring no person nor beast bothers you.

#hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy x mc #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #poppy sweeting #poppy sweeting x reader #amit thakkar x reader #amit thakkar #angst #hurt/comfort #headcanons

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kunikags02 · 3 months

Text

Sleepyhead

Trent A.A. x fem!reader

Warnings: None, just pure fluff<3 Enjoy!

Night time strolls around, it was time for dinner. Trent was waiting for you because you haven't arrived home yet. He did messaged you awhile ago asking your whereabouts and you had informed him. Trent of course is still a bit worried as he waits for you. He didn't want to eat dinner alone. Trent cooked pasta for tonight!

Sound of keys jingling from outside, indicating you have finally arrived home. Trent excitedly walk up to the door and greet you with a big hug. You hugged back and stayed for a moment. It felt like all pressure was gone, just the two of you against the world.

Trent then picked up your bag and brought it inside, letting you in first by closing the doors behind.

"How was your day baby?" Trent asked as you make your way to the kitchen. "It could be better but it's alright. How was yours, love?" you looked back at him, giving a small peck on his lips. He grinned, you gave him a confused look. "What's up babe?" He just shook his head and told you to go and have a seat.

"Ouh? You made pasta? What's the occasion love?" Your eyes beaming with the food in front of you. "It's nothing actually. Just wanted to cook something for you" he brushed your hair gently, letting you start eating your food. You looked up and asked, "Aren't you going to eat?" he sat in front of you and answers yes.

You and Trent ate dinner together in peace, he knows you prefer to finish the food first before talking. After dinner was done, you and Trent washed the dishes together. It wasn't too much so it only took a few minutes. You then went upstairs and Trent tagged along, not forgetting to turn off the lights.

You went into the bathroom to take a warm shower and Trent was just brushing his teeth. It was a cozy night, comfortable silence in the bathroom. He of course finished first so he stepped out of the bathroom and changed into some pj's.

A few minutes later, you're out of the bathroom with just a robe and towel covering your wet hair. Trent looked up from his phone and smiled looking at you. "You're finally done babe" you giggled and make your way to the bed, giving a kiss on his cheeks.

"I'm going to do my skincare first okie" you got down from the bed and walked to the big mirror in the corner of the room. Not forgetting to bring your skincare tray!

Your delicate hands started applying toners, serum's, etc. Trent have a side view of you from the bed, the corner of his eyes crinkles, admiring you. He's always like this for some reason, though he is not complaining because he gets to admire the prettiest woman in the world!

Trent decides to start a conversation as you were doing your 10 steps of skincare, re asking how your day went, what's something interesting happened at work, etc. You answered him everything until Trent start's rambling about this new trend he found weird but wanted to try it with you.

"Okay babe, so the trend was like you do your makeup wait no. I do your makeup but you can't tell me which goes first and so on. So, you down for it love?" no response. Trent just sat there like "???" "Babe?" and when he saw you, he chuckled. You accidentally fell asleep while doing your skincare. Good thing Trent knows your skincare steps so he went down to you and continued it for you.

After doing your skincare, he carried you to the bed and lay you down. He grabbed one of his sweater from the closet and put you in it with one of your shorts on. You were still asleep, unbothered with everything that happened.

Trent turns off the light and slide right next to you. Covering the both of you with a blanket. He turns to admire you once again, gently pushing a few strands of your hair from your face. Observing your whole face from your eyes peacefully shut to your slightly opened mouth. He couldn't resist to give it a kiss and also another kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, Y/n. You mean the whole world to me. Goodnight love" he whispered and his eyes slowly starting to get heavy and falls asleep in no time. The night ended with you wrapped around his arms, love lingering around the room, the best way to end the night.

note: HI!! What do you guys think about this?? It actually just happened a few nights ago tbh, I was doing my skincare while I was calling a friend of mine and BOOM I fell asleep. Good thing she called me like idk multiple times and weird ways until I woke up quickly finishing my night routine. I hope you enjoyed this! Let me know your thoughts 💭 See you lovesss❤️

#trent alexander arnold #trent aa #trent alexander imagines #trent alexander x you #trentalexanderarnoldxreader #trent Alexander arnold x fem reader #liverpool fc #liverpool football club #trent x reader #trent x fem reader

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variousficss · 6 months

Text

Bucky Barnes - Set of 2 [part 4]

Summary: Bucky finally decides to apologize.

part 3 || part 5

masterlist

Bucky raised his hand and knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet evening. The moments felt like an eternity, each second stretching out as he waited for the door to open. You would open the door for him, right?

Right?

Bucky knocked on the door again, straining his ears for any sign of your approach, but he heard none. He could hear your breathing though.

"Doll. It's me. Buck. I... Can I come in?", Bucky asked in a low tone, but you could hear him just fine.

"Come in.", you almost whispered, though it came out more as a wince that didn't go unnoticed by the soldier. Bucky opened the door and looked around, but you were nowhere to be seen.

"I'm in the bedroom, James", you said with a exhausted voice. Were you still mad at him?

The familiar scent of your home washed over Bucky whenever he entered, the mixture of the smell of your soap and the smell of lemon balm tea that you love to drink made him feel... at home. You didn't know how to cook to save your life, but you made tea like he had never tasted before. Bucky and Sam made fun of his lack of cooking skills, but you never came home with an empty bag. There were always some snacks from Sam's house and some treats that Bucky insisted you take. At this point, Mcdonald's was practically funded by you and your last-minute purchases. Bucky frowned at your unhealthy eating habits but you just laughed. Bucky noticed how today the aroma of the tea wasn't noticeable and how he continued to smell this almost unbearable smell of... ethyl alcohol? Why was a culinary disaster like you messing around with ethyl alcohol when he literally had to call the fire department the last time you decided to flambé omelets on your own?

The soldier cleared his throat before entering your bedroom and his heart sank when he opened the door just to see your fragile looking figure sat on the bed. Your eyes were swollen and your lip was split.

"What happened?" Bucky was by your side in a second, his voice tight with worry. "Who did this to you?"

You looked away, avoiding his guilty eyes. "It's nothing, Bucky, just a little accident. I don't want to talk about it. Why are you here?"

Bucky shook his head. "Doll, please. Let me help." And to that you laughed.

"Help?!" The bitterness in your tone was clear. "I don't want your help, James. If that's why you're here for then you can get the hell out of my home."

Bucky didn't say anything back, instead he hurried to your wardrobe looking for your first aid kit. He knew very well where it was after you tried to patch him up every time he went to you after a fight. His wounds always healed faster than your kit, but he liked the feeling of feeling cared for by you. To be the center of your attention at least for a few moments.

You scowled, the grumpiness evident as you crossed your arms. "I don't need your help, Bucky. I can take care of myself."

Bucky ignored your protests and began rummaging through the first aid kit. His right arm trembled as he reached for the first aid kit, a reminder of the violence he had both endured and inflicted. He was so good at hurting, and causing harm... Caring was something he wasn't used to.

He pulled out antiseptic wipes, bandages, and ointment, his movements gentle and precise. He approached you with the antiseptic wipe, his voice soothing. "This might sting a bit, but it's necessary to prevent any infection."

You winced as he gently cleaned your wound and you pretended not to see the worry stamped all over his face. "Can't you be more careful? I'm not an actual doll, you know? I'm not a super soldier like you."

Bucky chuckled softly, his eyes filled with warmth. "There, all done," Bucky replied, throwing the blood-stained tissues in the bag. You murmured a low thanks to which he only nodded too.

"Now, can you please tell me what the hell happened?"

Your face contorted with anger as you decided to let him know. "I was walking down the street, minding my own business, when suddenly a group of people cornered me..", you smirked bitterly. "they said I'm the 'winter soldier's little bitch'", you could see Bucky's face frowning by the second. "I told the woman who said it to kiss my ass and that's when they attacked me. There were 5 of them... they punched me in the stomach, kicked me and that bitch had the audacity to spit on me, Bucky. Can you fucking believe that?"

Bucky opened his mouth but you didn't let him speak. "And you know what the worst part is? There were other people around, and not a single one of them lifted a finger to help. They just stood there, watching as I was beaten to a pulp. How am I supposed to go find a job tomorrow looking like this?"

To that Bucky made a confused expression. "Why are you looking for a new job? What about your old one?"

"I was fired from it, duh!," you explained it quickly. "Keep up, Buck. Now, I've worked my ass off, Bucky. I've put in the effort, sent countless resumes, and gone to countless interviews. And for what? To be rejected time and time again? And you know the worst part? They say it's because of you!", you pointed to him.

"I-I'm so sorry, YN. This is all my fault.", Bucky didn't know what to do. "I never wanted any of this to happen."

"Oh, c'mon!", you raised your voice. "You think I blame you, Bucky?"

Bucky's expression softened, his blue eyes clouded with remorse. "I am responsible, doll."

Your eyes narrowed with anger as you glared at him. "You think a simple apology can make everything better, Bucky? You really don't get it, do you? You didn't beat me up, they did! And you didn't fire me, they did! What I'm most pissed about is the fact that I'm going through all of this shit and you dare to say that I am JUST LIKE THEM, BUCKY! I don't give a shit about what happened, but I'm pissed that you said that you don't need me when I fucking need you right now. I don't give a single shit about what they say even if it cost me my job or my expensive Gucci bag that those fuckers fucking stole from me AFTER they beat me up!"

Bucky was without words.

"SAY SOMETHING, BUCKY!", you yelled at him, your eyes filled with tears. "This is not the time to be the silent friend! I...", you started to sob uncontrollably and Bucky knelt on the ground, standing right in front of you. "Say that you fucking need me. Say that I'm a good friend and that you care about me!", you pleaded, looking into his sad blue eyes. "You wanna show you're sorry? Then stop fucking saying it, stop being an idiot and help me fix it!"

Bucky's heart ached. He had never seen you like this, so vulnerable and hurt. So honest.

He reached out, gently taking your trembling hands in his own. "You're right. I messed up, doll. I never should have said those things. You are not like them, not in any way. You're the best thing in my life."

Tears streamed down your face as you looked into his sincere eyes. "I need you, Y/N. I'm so scared, all the time because I know I don't deserve you in my life, afraid you're gonna leave me..."

He pressed his forehead against yours, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "I'm so tired of trying to push you away... I don't know if I can't live without you in my life anymore. I panic even thinking about it." His breath was heavy, his chest rising and falling with the intensity of his emotions. "I can't lose you and you're right, you know? I'm shit when it comes to talking about... things... anything", he admitted. "It's something I need to work on, but I want you to know that me, being here, and you know... doing things... That's my way of showing you how much I love you", Bucky's words were coming a lot faster than he intended he didn't even notice his declaration of love, but you surely did. "So I want you to know that I hear what you're saying, but I still may be bad at that, but I'll use whatever ways I can to show you how much you mean to me, even if it means sharpening your kitchen knives every day or hear you talk all evening about that Edward something in the fucking vampire movie. I'm not good at verbalizing, but I'm very good at being loyal. It’s the only thing I know how to do."

tag list:

@almosttoopizza @creat0r-cat @aesthetic0cherryblossom

(some i didn't find the right blog to tag, let me know!)

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky fic recs #fluff bucky #angst bucky #bucky angst #bucky masterlist #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #set of 2

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