#and then afterward being faced with concern FROM the doctor and then a talking to but still Concern from mike and responding Like That | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bckwardsfrwards · 5 months ago

Note

I’m absolutely starving for pathetic bottom Phosphorus content, may I request a little something where he gets dicked down good by the reader?

Oh anon I have never wanted to write something more. THANK YOU for this ask, if you're feeling brave enough to come off anon DM me!!! I don't bite I'd lovee to talk about him being pathetic <3

Anyways, Amab reader/male reader

They're a metahuman

Wordcount: 2.8k

Oneshot(?) Under the cut. And this is NSFW so MDNI

You had known the doctor for a pretty long time. You met him during his time as a businessman and you remained loyal afterwards. Even though you both wound up in Belle Reve the guards seemed adamant on keeping the two of you separated. It had been a long time since you'd seen him, to say the least.

So when the Doctor, your Doctor Phosphorus walks into your cell instead of the same guard you had grown so accustomed to you practically leap off of your cot. Rushing towards him unsure if this is real or not. Your hands shake slightly, not certain if you should or even can touch him. It's like looking at a ghost.

"You never were much for words huh?" He asks with a nervous chuckle.

"How... How is this possible?" You ask, stepping closer to him and letting your hands grasp his forearms desperately.

"A little good behavior gets you a long way in this joint." He says tilting his head down to glance at where your hands are gripping at his sleeves. You stare at him for a moment, not sure you could speak if you tried.

"You okay?" He asks, barely noticeable concern bleeding into his words.

Instead of answering verbally you pull him into a tight hug. Wrapping your arms around him and tucking your chin over his shoulder. Feeling his overwhelming warmth seep into you, he was more like a living reactor than a radiator. He returns the embrace sighing in what sounds like relief. You smile against his neck as the flames atop his head burn a little hotter.

"I missed you." You murmur before pulling back to look at him.

Before he can get a word in you notice the guards standing outside your cell. Watching the two of you, clearly impatient. Your brow furrows with the fear of having Phosphorous taken away from you when you just got him back .

Phosphorus clearly notices your expression and turns back to glance at the guards before looking back to face you.

"Relax big guy, I didn't even get to tell you why I'm here yet." He says as he cups your cheek gently, careful not to burn you. You listen carefully and attentively.

"Right, I'm getting you out of here. No not out of prison but uh, you're getting transferred to my team's holding compound." He says like you should understand what any of that means.

"Here just, come with me." He says as he takes your hand in his and leads you out of the cell.

He walks like he knows where he's going so you follow without question. Gripping his hand tightly and watching as the guards surround you on the sides and behind.

"It's kinda like old times huh? Except instead of goons they're heavily armed guards in a maximum security prison." He says wryly.

You let out a huff of laughter but don't let your guard down. Eyeing the guards until you arrive at your destination. A much nicer open space with ping pong tables, arcade machines, lounging furniture and games. There are other inmates relaxing, some you've seen others you don't recognize. The guards shut the heavy concrete doors and vanish behind it.

"Pretty nice right?" He asks, his skeletal grin unchanging but you can tell he's pleased with himself.

"Yeah, this is... Nice." You say simply. Still in a state of disbelief that he is here with you.

"That's not even the best part, c'mere." He says as he grabs your hand and pulls you down a hallway of not cells but rooms. He gets to the end of the Hall and pulls you inside one of the rooms, shutting the door behind you. It's nice, bare walled and quaint, more like a cheap motel room than a prison cell. You turn to face him, looking him up and down.

"How'd you do this?"

"Oh just saved the world from certain doom." He says, gesturing with his hands casually.

"I'm serious Alex."

"I'm being serious here! Me and some of the others here killed this fuckin princess overseas it was a whole ordeal. Look I know it sounds ridiculous but you're here right? And that's what matters." He speaks with emotion walking closer to you with every word till you're face to face. He holds your wrists gently and caresses your pulse points with his thumbs. Something he used to do when he was stressed and needed the reassurance of your pulse. To know you were still here and alive.

"I know, I'm sorry, you're right. It's just a little surreal." You speak softly taking one of his hands in yours and bringing it up to your lips. Pressing gentle kisses to his knuckles. Phosphorus sighs deeply, relaxed just by your soft touch. "I've missed you." You whisper.

"I missed you too Loverboy." He murmurs back, bringing one of his hands to your shoulder the other holding the back of your neck. Everywhere he touches is hot but you don't mind, you crave it.

You let one hand rest on his hip the other cupping his cheek softly. You both stand there for a moment basking in the comfort of one another. You hadn't known a friendly touch since before you'd both been arrested. You assumed the same went for the Doctor if the little shiver that ran through him just from your hand on his cheek was anything to go by.

You let your thumb caress his hip, gently massaging the tender flesh. You were glad that despite his skeletal appearance he seemed to be in good health, with a layer of softness on him he hadn't had before. His breath hitches a little and you can tell he's trying to hold back from making any sounds. Embarrassed to be so affected by such a simple touch.

You caress his face softly, tracing his cheekbone with your thumb. "I wanna hear you." You murmur against his neck, pressing faint kisses along his irradiated flesh. His body emits a low hum of bubbling, and each kiss you leave sizzles out against him.

He let's out a low strangled groan when you nip at his collar bone. The flame atop his head burning brighter with every touch.

"Jesus Christ." He whispers as you pull away from his neck to look at him, your eyes heavy lidded.

"Not quite." You say with a mischievous grin before you lean in and catch him in a kiss. It starts sweetly but as you move the hand on his hip to push his shirt up his abdomen his breath hitches. You take it as the opportunity it is and deepen the kiss letting your tongues tangle as your lips move against each other. He groans against your mouth, holding your shoulder and neck with a bruising grip. Kissing Phosphorus is unlike anything else, his heat overwhelming but addictive.

You both pull back panting and grasping onto each other desperately. You take in his unchanging expression, the only hint of your effect on him, the dark green dusting his cheeks. You bring both your hands down to rest on his hips, guiding him backwards until he's sitting on the edge of the full sized bed. You stand between his legs for a moment, towering over him before you drop down to your knees.

"Fuck sweetheart, you don't have to do this." He mumbles out sincerely, reaching a hand down to tilt your chin upwards to look at him.

"I want to." You answer simply. Resting your cheek against one of his thighs and looking up at him lazily. One hand running up and down his inner thigh. "If you'll let me."

"You're gonna kill me." He says almost reverently, petting through your hair for a moment and scratching at your scalp. You bask in the feeling for a moment sighing softly.

"Not a bad way to go." You say with a lazy grin.

When he pulls his hand back you perk up running both your hands up and down his thighs for a moment before tugging at the fabric and raising an eyebrow in question. He nods in affirmation and you pull his boxers and pants down in one go tossing them to a pile in the middle of the room. You bring your attention back to the Doctor whose dick is hard and leaking against his stomach. You eye him hungrily, settling between his thighs and wrapping one hand around his length stroking him steadily.

His reaction is obvious as he tilts his head back and lets out a low groan. You remembered just how he likes it, paying special attention to the underside of his cock and turning your wrist just right. You take your hand off of him and he whines at the lack of contact. Both your hands resting on his thighs running up and down slowly as you lean in and take his cockhead into your mouth.

He lets out a strangled moan clearly trying to hold back on the noise. You suck hard, and circle your tongue around the head. The taste of him almost chemical but still familiar and salty. He pants heavily above you as you take him down as far as you can stroking what you can't fit with one of your hands.

He's practically shaking, his thighs trembling and his abdomen twitching from the stimulation. When you swallow around him he just can't take it and bucks up forcing the rest of his length down your throat. You pull off coughing slightly before wiping your mouth off and catching your breath.

"Shit, I'm so sorry (y/n) I didn't mean to, you just feel so fuckin good," The doctor rambles out in one breath, his chest heaving up and down as he tries to calm himself down. His dick twitching against his stomach, a small puddle of fluorescent precum forming there. You look up at him bleary eyed but still smiling.

"You can make it up to me." You murmur, your voice low and raspy from the cocksucking. You dive right back in, lapping up the pre from his stomach and licking your lips afterwards. You place both hands over the doctor's hips holding them down with all your weight. You lick from the root of his cock to the tip, teasing the head with barely there kitten licks. Without any warning you take him most of the way down your throat in one go. Tears perk up in the corners of your eyes but you blink them away, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks with an undeterrable passion.

The Doctor all but freezes, his body going stiff before shivering almost uncontrollably from the intense pleasure. “Oh fuck, (Y/n) just like that… Shit!” He babbles on between heavy breaths and cut off moans.

He reaches down to grasp at anything, roughly gripping your hair, earning him a low groan that sends intense vibrations throughout his entire body. He tries guiding you off for a moment to compose himself before he finishes embarrassingly quickly. You don't let up, taking him down to the root, your throat spasming as you swallow around him.

“(Y/n), Sweetheart I'm gonna fuckin cum if you don't let up.” Alex manages to get out through strained panting, holding himself off from release as long as he can.

You pull off for a moment and he sighs in relief, his body practically shaking. But that relief is short-lived as you stroke him a couple times, only long enough to say, “Good,” before taking the head of his dick into your mouth again. Swirling your tongue around it with ridiculous precision while stroking the sensitive underside of his cock roughly.

“Fuck!” Phosphorus groans out as his orgasm hits him like a freight train. You take him down to the hilt again and can feel his dick twitching uncontrollably. You swallow around him roughly, groaning out from the satisfaction of getting him off. Alex lies on the bed feeling boneless as his body twitches through the aftershocks of his climax.

You finally pull off of him and catch your breath, panting heavily as you rest your face against his bare thigh. He sits back up eventually and starts petting through your hair, you let your eyes fall shut from the gentle touch.

"Thank you," He says softly.

"You're welcome," You mumble against his thigh. You grin lazily before getting up from your spot between his legs. "But we're not done yet." You say as you cage him in against the mattress, your own hard on straining against your pants.

"Fuck," He hisses out as you start to grind your clothed body against his overstimulated dick. "Okay, okay but take this shit off." He says pulling at the base of your shirt.

You comply pulling it over your head and tossing it on the floor. You also take off your pants and underwear kicking them aside before boxing him in underneath you. You run one hand up and down his sides pulling at the hem of his shirt. "This goes too." You murmur pulling it up and over his head, throwing it on the floor.

Both naked now, you rut up against his thigh hissing at the feeling of your sensitive flesh against his burning hot body. You groan low and gravely leaning down and kissing at his neck gently, sensually.

"That feel good?" Alex asks with an airy laugh.

"Mmhm." You nod against his neck in affirmation, grinding against his thigh a little desperately.

"If you actually wanna fuck me the lubes in the top drawer." He says a little breathless as you bite and suck at his pulse point.

"You want it that bad huh?" You ask with a raised eyebrow and a sly grin.

"Don't act like you're not just as desperate as I am. Who's humping my leg right now?" He asks, jokingly irritated.

"Fair enough" You say, your cheeks flushed and hot.

He reaches into the top drawer and grabs some cheap non brand lube tossing it to you. You grab one of the pillows from the head of the bed and slide it under his hips. You pop open the lube drizzling some on your fingers before shutting it and tossing it to the side. You reach down carefully easing in one finger to the first knuckle.

He stiffens slightly and you try to soothe him by running your unoccupied hand up and down his sides. "S'okay I've got you." You murmur softly.

He relaxes slightly and before you know it he's taken the first finger and the second. You scissor your fingers a bit stretching him out some before curling them in search of something. You know you've found it when his whole body burns a little brighter and his cock starts twitching with interest, already half hard again.

"Fuck's sake, I'm ready." He complains, writhing in your grasp.

You lean down pressing kisses to his navel. "I don't wanna hurt you." You murmur softly.

He sighs, relaxing into your touch and accepting he'll have to be patient.

You slide in your third finger stretching him out until you're satisfied. You grab the lube again and squirt out a generous amount onto your hand. Finally stroking yourself, coating your dick with a healthy amount of lube before lining yourself up with him.

"You ready?" You ask softly, looking down at him. He rolls onto his stomach, resting his head against a pillow. It's always been an easier position and one of his favorites.

"Yeah, c'mon. Show me what I've been missing."

You don't wait after that, sliding yourself in steadily till he takes you down to the base. Your chest plastered against his back. You give him a moment to adjust, running your hands up and down his torso, feeling as he shivers from the stimulation. You start to move, forming a steady rhythm that has you both panting harshly.

"Harder," he groans out on a particularly sharp thrust.

You deliver, gripping his hips tightly and snapping yours against his. His back arches into it and he groans as you start nailing him right where he needs it.

"Fuck, just like that." He mumbles against his pillow.

The pace is relentless and you can feel yourself on the edge of orgasm. You lean in kissing his shoulder blade as you fuck into him roughly.

"M'close." You manage to groan out.

He moans in response as you pull his hips back to meet your thrusts. You wrap one arm under him to jerk him off in time with your thrusts. Moving your wrist in time with your hips, leaves you both groaning out in pleasure. You thumb over the head of his dick just right and that sends him toppling over the edge. Cumming all over your hand and onto the bed sheets below.

His body squeezes around your dick like a vice and with a few more harsh thrusts you finish deep inside his heat.

You collapse on your side pulling him against your chest. Your arms wrap around his body as you both bask in the aftershocks of your orgasms.

"Fuck I missed you," He whispers still catching his breath.

"Missed you too Alex." You murmur against the nape of his neck, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin there.

I just spent the last 5 hours writing this!! So if you liked it pls lmk!! My asks are always open <3

#doctor phosphorus #dr phosphorus #alex sartorius #creature commandos #doctor phosphorus x reader #dr phosphorus x reader #x reader #alexander sartorius #x male reader #x amab reader #divider by cafekitsune #my writing

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bestofmultiverse · 7 months ago

Text

Between the pages || 4

Aubrey plaza x fem!reader

"It’s hard to save people from themselves. But if they’re willing to try, it’s worth the risk.”

- Paperweight by Meg Haston

A/N : this part talks about mental health, i don't know if its on triggering level but it was important for me to let yall know.

Got inspired by my trip to the ER today because of anxiety attack that left me feeling like i was literally dying. Im okay, conveniently had a therapy session as well afterwards so had a pretty rough day- but pushing trough it 🤍

I love you guys hope you will like this one x

1 • 2 • 3 • 5

When Aubrey stormed into the ER, she wasn’t sure what she was more furious about: the fact that her girlfriend hadn’t told her she was there or the casually infuriating way she explained it when she finally did.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” her girlfriend had said with a weak shrug, as if chest pain and difficulty breathing were minor inconveniences she could brush off.

“Didn’t want to bother me?” Aubrey had echoed, disbelief flaring in her voice.

The younger woman, seated in one of those awful plastic chairs, simply nodded, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. “It’s not the first time,” she added lightly.

That had nearly sent Aubrey over the edge, but then her anger had crumbled the moment she took in her girlfriend’s slumped posture, the way her hands trembled slightly in her lap. The fight in her drained away, replaced by a deep, aching worry.

Without a word, Aubrey knelt in front of her and wrapped her arms around her tightly. Her girlfriend stiffened for a moment before her shoulders sagged, and tears, born of frustration and weariness, spilled from her tired brown eyes.

“You scared the hell out of me,” Aubrey murmured against her temple, her voice breaking.

“I’m sorry,” came the hoarse reply.

“What did the doctor say?” Aubrey asked after a beat.

“Nothing yet. It’s been two hours since they checked me, so I guess that’s a good sign,” her girlfriend said, trying for humor, but the weak smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Aubrey frowned and brushed a stray strand of hair from her girlfriend’s face. “What made you come in today?”

Her girlfriend hesitated, looking down at her hands. “A coworker noticed I was struggling and told my supervisor. They basically forced me to come.”

Aubrey’s heart clenched at the thought of her being too stubborn—or scared—to seek help on her own. “I’m sorry that happened, baby.”

“It’s not your fault,” her girlfriend said softly, shaking her head.

Aubrey pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Still. I wish you’d told me sooner.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aubrey sighed, her thumb tracing comforting circles over her girlfriend’s hand. “I’m going to talk to the nurse and see what’s going on.”

Her girlfriend grabbed her wrist, her grip surprisingly firm. “Please don’t make a scene. They’re doing their best.”

“I won’t, I promise,” Aubrey said with a small smile. “But I’m not just going to sit here while you suffer.”

She stood and approached the front desk, her patience already worn thin. “Excuse me,” she said, keeping her tone calm but firm. “My girlfriend’s been waiting for two hours with chest pain and trouble breathing. Is there any way to get an update?”

The nurse didn’t even glance up. “It takes time,” she said dismissively.

“I understand that,” Aubrey replied, clenching her jaw. “But is there any way to know how much time?”

Before the nurse could respond, a doctor appeared in the doorway, clipboard in hand. “Y/N?” she called out.

Relief washed over Aubrey as she hurried back to her girlfriend. “Come on,” she said gently, helping her to her feet.

They followed the doctor into an exam room, and Aubrey stayed close, her hand never leaving her girlfriend’s.

“After running several tests, we didn’t find anything concerning,” the doctor began, offering a reassuring smile. “Your heart and lungs are healthy, and your bloodwork came back normal.”

Aubrey’s girlfriend nodded slowly, her expression conflicted.

“So what’s causing this?” Aubrey asked, her tone carefully measured.

The doctor hesitated before answering. “It seems to be psychological—likely a panic attack.”

Aubrey’s girlfriend let out a bitter laugh. “Figures.”

“It’s more common than you think,” the doctor said gently. “There’s nothing physically wrong with you, which is good news. But I’d recommend following up with a therapist to explore potential triggers and coping strategies.”

“Right,” her girlfriend muttered as she stood, grabbing her bag. “So, I’m crazy. Got it.”

“You’re not crazy,” Aubrey said firmly, standing as well and pulling her into a hug. She held her close, one hand cradling the back of her head as her girlfriend let out a shaky breath against her shoulder.

“Thank you, doctor,” Aubrey said softly before leading her girlfriend out of the hospital.

The drive home was quiet, the radio turned off at her girlfriend’s request. When they reached Aubrey’s apartment—a place that had gradually become their shared home—they settled on the couch, the silence stretching between them.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Aubrey asked after a while. “No pressure, but… I’m here.”

Her girlfriend pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. “It’s just… stuff. Work’s been rough, and… other things too.”

“Other things?” Aubrey prompted gently.

Her girlfriend hesitated. “It started about five months ago.”

Aubrey froze. Five months ago—the same time the media had started dissecting their relationship, plastering their faces across magazines and social media.

Her girlfriend must have noticed the look on her face because she quickly added, “This isn’t your fault, Aubrey. Please don’t think that.”

Aubrey shook her head. “I should’ve protected you from all of that.”

“You couldn’t have. I chose this. I chose you,” her girlfriend said, her voice trembling. “And I’d choose you again. Every time.”

Aubrey pulled her into her arms, kissing her temple. “I’d choose you too. Always.” She paused, stroking her girlfriend’s hair. “But I think we need help—someone who can help us make sense of this.”

Her girlfriend looked up at her, confused.

“I’m talking about therapy,” Aubrey said gently. “For you, if you want it. And maybe for us. Together.”

Her girlfriend frowned. “You think we need couples therapy?”

“I think it’s worth trying,” Aubrey said honestly. “You were scared to tell me what you’ve been going through, and I can’t stop blaming myself for what you’ve been feeling. I don’t want either of us to carry that alone.”

Her girlfriend sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I’ll think about it,” she said quietly.

“That’s all I’m asking,” Aubrey said, kissing her hand.

After a moment, her girlfriend stood. “I need a bath. I feel gross.”

“Want company?” Aubrey offered with a small smile.

Her girlfriend nodded. “Yeah. I don’t want to be alone.”

Aubrey followed her into the bathroom, and they sank into the warm, bubble-filled tub together, with a book of y/n's choice as their worries temporarily melting away in the comfort of each other’s arms.

#anxitey #panic attack #fic writing #aubrey plaza x reader #aubrey plaza #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal #agathario #agatha x rio #agatha all along #agatha harkness x rio vidal #wlw

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annewithaneofthegreengable · 1 year ago

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CHAPTER 3: Funkel, funkel, kleiner Stern

Author’s note: I'm back!

Taglist: If you would like to be added to the taglist please comment down below for me to know!

Anna Vettel came running out of daycare with a wide grin on her face. Her grandparents just wished her dad could have been there to see it as she ran into their arms. It wasn’t his fault; even once his little girl was born, he still had a job to do.

Sebastian was there for half of the week at least. But for the rest of the week, his parents took care of her, feeding her, letting her sleep in the bedroom she had in their house, and transporting her to and from daycare. Every time her dad would leave, Anna would scream and cry for at least a couple of hours. At least until her grandparents had her face-timing her father and Seb could talk to his little girl.

Today; however, is a bit different since Heike got a phone call from Anna’s teacher saying that Anna is feeling under the weather. Things went on a downward spiral ever since that phone call. His Mein Häschen’s temperature was burning that night, while the doctor only said that she caught a cold. Sebastian Vettel sat in his hotel room, a mixture of worry and guilt gnawing at his heart. He hated being away from his little princess, especially when she was feeling unwell. His phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. Seeing the caller ID, he quickly answered. "Hello?"

Sebastian spoke into the phone, his tone laced with concern. "How is she doing, mama?"

Heike sighed on the other end. "The doctor said she caught a cold," she replied in a tired voice. "But her temperature is really high. She's been miserable all day."

Sebastian's worry intensified, and his grip tightened around the phone. "Has she been taking any medication for the fever?" he asked a hint of desperation in his voice. Heike confirmed, "Yes, we've given her some children's Tylenol, but it doesn't seem to be bringing the fever down much."

Sebastian let out a frustrated sigh. "Is she sleeping at all?" he inquired, his heart aching at the thought of his little princess suffering.

Heike answered with a weary tone, "She's been having trouble sleeping because she's so uncomfortable. She keeps tossing and turning."

Sebastian's worry deepened, a pang of helplessness settling in his gut. "Have you tried giving her a cool bath to help bring down her fever?" he suggested, desperate to find a solution. Heike responded, "Yes, we have. But it only seems to help for a short while. The fever always spikes back up afterwards." Sebastian's grip on the phone tightened, his mind racing for a solution. "Is there anything else the doctor advised? Anything we can do besides the medication and the cold bath and the compress?"

Heike replied, her voice filled with exhaustion, "The doctor said to keep an eye on her temperature and bring her back if it doesn’t go down in a couple of days. But she's so miserable, Seb."

Sebastian's heart ached hearing his daughter was in such distress. "I wish I could be there," he uttered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I hate being away when she's not feeling well."

Heike offered comfort, "I know, Seb, but being there for your races is important too. You're doing the best you can."

Sebastian's eyes closed momentarily, the weight of being away from his sick daughter heavy on his shoulders. "I can't concentrate on anything else," he confessed, his voice tinged with despair. "All I can think about is Anna and how much she's suffering."

Heike reassured him, "I understand, but trust me, she's being taken care of. She misses you, though."

“Can I talk to her, mama?”

Heike paused for a moment, knowing Sebastian's longing to hear his daughter's voice. "Of course, Seb," she said gently.

A few moments later, Anna's small, slightly hoarse voice came through the phone, "Papa?"

Sebastian's heart skipped a beat as he heard his daughter's voice. "Yes, Mein Häschen, it's me," he replied, his own voice filled with a mix of worry and relief.

Anna's voice cracked as she spoke, "I miss you, Papa. I don't feel good."

Sebastian's chest tightened with a pang of guilt and empathy. "I know, mein Häschen," he murmured, using his affectionate nickname for her. "I miss you too, and I wish I could be there to take care of you."

Sebastian's voice softened even more, his heart breaking at his daughter's suffering. "Grandpa and Grandma are taking good care of you, right?" he inquired, still wanting to hear her little voice.

Anna's voice wavered a bit, but she responded, "Yeah, they are. Uncle Fabian is here too. But I just want you, Papa."

Sebastian sighed, his heart heavy with love and worry. "I know, Mein Häschen, I know," he murmured, his voice filled with empathy. "I wish I could be there with you too. I feel so bad that I can't be there to make you feel better."

Sebastian's voice trembled slightly as he continued talking to his daughter. "Can you do something for me, Anna?" he asked, hoping to find a way to comfort her from afar.

There was a brief moment of pause before Anna spoke again, her voice still weak but curious. "What is it, Papa?"

Sebastian took a deep breath, finding the right words to say. "I want you to close your eyes and imagine me right beside you," he said softly. "Just pretend that I'm there, holding your hand and stroking your hair like I used to do when you were younger."

Sebastian's voice was gentle and soothing as he continued, "Can you picture it, Häschen? Can you feel my hand on your forehead, checking your temperature? Can you hear me whispering sweet nothings in your ear like I used to do when you had a nightmare?"

Sebastian's voice became even softer, filled with tenderness. "Just remember how I used to sing you that lullaby when you were a baby? The one you always asked for?" he inquired, hoping to bring some comfort to his little princess.

“Funkel, funkel, kleiner Stern, Ach wie bist du mir so fern, Wunderschön und unbekannt, Wie ein strahlend Diamant, Funkel, funkel, kleiner Stern,... Can you help me finish it, Häschen”

“Ach wie bist du mir so fern, Papa.” she softly sing through the phone.

Sebastian's heart swelled with both pain and tenderness as he heard Anna's soft voice finishing the lullaby. He swallowed back the lump in his throat before replying, "Yes, that's right, mein Häschen. You remember it well."

Sebastian took a deep breath, his voice filled with love and worry. "Can you promise me something, Häschen?" he asked, his tone serious. Sebastian's voice was gentle but firm as he waited for Anna's response. "Can you promise me that you'll be a brave girl, even when you're feeling sick?" he inquired, his words tinged with a mixture of concern and love. Sebastian's voice softened even further, echoing the gentle pleading in his words. "And can you promise that you'll take your medicine and drink lots of fluids like Grandpa and Grandma tell you to?" he asked, his heart clenching as he thought of his little girl's discomfort. Sebastian's voice quivered slightly as he added, "And if you need me, you can call me anytime you want, okay, Häschen? I might not be there physically, but I'm only a phone call away."

Sebastian's voice was heavy with an undertone of helplessness as he continued, "I wish I could do more to make you feel better, mein Häschen. I wish I could be there with you, holding you in my arms and taking away your pain. But I promise, I am thinking about you every second of the day, and I'm doing everything I can to get back to you as soon as possible."

“Papa?” “Yes, Häschen.” “I’m sorry I couldn’t watch you go vroom vroom this week,” Seb swears he could have cried like a baby the moment he heard that.

“No, No, Häschen, you will see me go vroom vroom soon enough, the most important thing now is your health. Can you promise me to do all the things I have asked you to?”

“Yes, Papa. Pinky.”

“Ich Liebe Dich, Mein Häschen.”

“Ich Liebe Dich, Papa.”

As Sebastian ended the call with Anna, he sighed heavily, his heart still heavy with worry. He knew that his little princess was in good hands, but being away from her when she was unwell felt like a weight on his chest. Sebastian tried to distract himself by reviewing all the data from the previous practice session, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Anna and her feverish little face. He spent some time looking at pictures of her on his phone, cherishing his favorite ones. The thought of her sweet voice and the soft sound of her laughter only made him want to be there with her more.

As the night progressed, Sebastian found himself tossing and turning in his bed, unable to find comfort. The guilt and worry about not being by Anna's side during her sickness still gnawed at him. He wondered if she was resting peacefully or if she was still suffering from the high fever and discomfort. He longed to be there with her, to hold her hand and soothe her fevered brow.

Eventually, Sebastian gave up on sleep entirely and decided to take a stroll to clear his mind. Maybe some fresh air and a change of scenery would help ease his restless thoughts. Sebastian left his hotel room and made his way down to the hotel lobby. The late-night air was cool against his skin, helping to clear his head a bit. Though his mind was still preoccupied with Anna and her illness, he tried to distract himself by taking a walk around the quiet neighborhood surrounding the hotel. He walked aimlessly for a while, the streets mostly deserted at this hour. The sound of his footsteps and the occasional distant car served as background noise, but his mind stubbornly returned to thoughts of his daughter, still sick and alone. As Sebastian continued to walk, he found himself passing by a small park. The playground was empty, the swings motionless in the night breeze. Memories of Anna playing on that same playground during one of the rare family vacations they had filled his mind, making his chest ache with a mixture of pain and joy.

He walked over to a bench and collapsed onto it, his head in his hands. The silence of the park was deafening, only broken by the occasional sound of an owl hooting in the distance.

Sebastian sat there for a while, just staring into the darkness of the park. He longed to be at home with Anna, taking care of her and soothing her with comforting words and gestures. But he was stuck at a distant hotel, miles away from his little princess. Sebastian leaned back against the bench and closed his eyes, trying to picture Anna's face in his mind. He could almost see her soft, pale skin and her messy hair, knowing that she always looked more vulnerable when she was sick. The thought made his heart ache with a mixture of worry and tenderness.

The stillness of the night was oppressive, and he longed for the sound of Anna's soft breathing next to him, a sign that she was peacefully asleep. At least then he would know for sure that she was alright. Tears stung the corners of his eyes, and he wiped them away with an impatient gesture. He hated feeling so useless, sitting here alone in the dark while Anna was suffering back home.

The more time Sebastian spent sitting there on the bench, the more his thoughts and emotions spiralled further. He found himself replaying moments from Anna's childhood, the memories hitting him like a tidal wave. He thought of her adorable little face covered in chocolate, the way her tiny, sticky fingers had grabbed his thumb, her laughter ringing in his ears like a sweet melody.

The guilt and helplessness were overwhelming, and Sebastian found himself wondering if he was failing as a father. How could he be so distant from his daughter when she needed him most?

He sat there for what felt like an eternity, his thoughts running wild, until the first streaks of sunlight started to appear on the horizon.

As the days passed by, Sebastian found himself stepping on the highest place on the podium, his eyes longed for an image of his Mein Häschen, but she wasn’t there. As soon as he was done for the day finished all his post-race interviews and media duties. He left and came home to his daughter.

Taglist: @pear-1206 @tammyfortis @gaypoetsblog @formula1-motogpfan @clearwolfbatrebel-blog @luvsforme @thatsadsmallchild @nikfigueiredo @rach3164

#sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #f1 blurb #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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skiesficz · 4 months ago

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blood as sweet as honey ₊˚⊹🩸🍯

bf! sakuya x fem reader w/PCOS

category: tooth rotting FLUFF

tws: talks of bl00d, doctors surgeries, swearing, talks of fainting, bl00d tests and needles

summary: you’re in the process of being diagnosed with PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome) and your boyfriend is freaking out for you, but you’re too busy freaking out about the blood test you need to get now

a/n: this was a hard one to write, i kept getting faint 😖 is this about me?? no way… but i need to get over my fear of blood/blood tests before I get mine done somehow! this is also PCOS awareness for my other PCOS girlies, i see you all 💗 anyways wether you have or not i hope you enjoy this silly way of me getting over my fears!

when sakuya learned about your condition he was sent into an absolute frenzy “y/n.. this is serious.. is it really that bad?” he asks in a concerned panic. his girlfriend having cystic ovaries?? will that stop her having children in the future? will that make her prone to other things? will it hurt her? you respond to his concerned, wide-eyes expression with a giggle. “saku-chan, did you even listen to the nurse when she told us what it meant?” to which he shyly shook his head. “PCOS just makes my periods a little heavier and irregular or gives me none at all, i produce less estrogen, makes me hold a little more weight and i’m at a slightly higher risk of type 2 diabetes, that’s it silly” you say softly, pinching his cheek. he frowns and playfully wafts your hand away. “yeah but it must be uncomfy.. i don’t want my sweetie being uncomfortable or ill at all” he says with a little pout, which you laugh at. “it’s not a big issue saku baby, don’t worry” you pause for a second and go slightly pale. “it’s the confirming blood test we need to worry about”. you have a big fear of blood, it’s a pretty rational fear after fainting at your last blood test after accidentally seeing the vials. now even talking about blood alone makes your legs go weak, skin go cold and ears go fuzzy. sakuya also knows your fear of blood, he’s seen you freak out at his minor injuries before. once he cut his hand while cutting some bread and it bled, he came to you for help to put on a plaster, next thing he knew he was helping you stay conscious as he hid his cut from you and sat you on the floor with a glass of cold water. all in all, you’re absolutely terrified for the test. sakuya looks at you with worry and pitty etched across his face, he reaches out and cups your face, “i’ll be with you the whole time okay honey.. i’ll make it as comfortable for you as possible, i promise” he says softly but sweetly. boy did he keep his promise.

you arrive at your GP, clutching your phone as sakuya said he’d meet you there. you walk up to reception and anxiously sign in, the receptionist lets you take a seat as you wait for the nurse to call you in. just as your appointment time approaches, sakuya runs into the practice with a hot chocolate in hand and a bag from the nearby grocery store. “i made it on time!! i told you so!!” he says happily as he sits beside you. “this is to keep your blood sugars up!” he says as he passes the cup to your shaking and cold hand. he pulls out one of his hoodies and lets you wear it to keep your body warm. he also has a plethora of sweets in the bag for afterwards. he gently takes your hand and looks into your wavering eyes. “it’ll all be okay my sweet sweet girl, i’ll hold your hand, sing you something or even just be there with you. the nurse will help you if you faint so there’s nothing to worry about” he says softly, gently pressing kisses all over your now very pale face. the nurse calls you in and you both take your seats across from the table. “hello, my name is mark and i’ll be your nurse today, you’re here for a blood test yes?” he asks as he types away on the keyboard. “y..yeah i am” you say in a shaky voice, making the nurse look up at you and your anxious figure and give you a gentle smile “you have nothing to worry about, it’ll be over before you know it”. sakuya beside you nods and holds your hand a little tighter. you explain your symptoms to the nurse and he types everything down before rolling his chair and table over to you with everything on it. “now, try not look until i say” mark says as he sets up. tears well in your eyes as you look at sakuya, your arm muscles tensing and hands shaking. “sweetie.. it’s okay.. i’m here.. i’m here” he says softly. he cups your face, covering your eye that’s closest to the needles and vials. he hums you a little song as you feel the pump wrap around your arm to make it easier. you wince and a little tear escapes your eye. “sakuya.. i’m so fucking scared” you whisper. sakuyas eyes softened as he reached into the bag he brought and took out your favourite plushie and sweets. “hold him, and i’ll get you some sweets out hm? please don’t be scared, i’m here, i’m here” he says softly. you wince as you feel the needle insert, causing you to cry a little and go paler than you already were. your body went cold and your ears went fuzzy. sakuya wiped your tears gently and held your hand gently while singing a little song to you in between comforting words and praises. before you knew it the nurse was done and you were all done! “that’s me done, good job miss y/n, you did well” mark the nurse says with a smile. “please stay seated for a few minutes in case you feel faint or wobbly”. you and sakuya sit together, sakuya picking you up and sitting you in his lap so he can cuddle you and praise you for your bravery. “well done honey, you did well, you’re all done! i’ll treat you tonight okay?” you nod and give him a little kiss, which he returns.

that night sakuya takes you to your absolute favourite restaurant for dinner, which he paid for of course! he then took you out for boba and to a bakery for deserts! “saku chan why do you always buy bread for dessert?” you ask with a giggle as you take a munch out of your cinnamon roll. “hey! it’s sweet loaf!! brioche bread is sweet! it can be dessert!” he says with a playful pout as he leans over, swipes some icing off your cinnamon roll and dots it on your nose. “hey!! you’re evil” you giggle as you take his hand and swing it as you walk cheerfully down the street, it was like a switched flipped as you went from upset and anxious earlier to cheerful and bubbly like usual. sakuya didn’t miss that opportunity to tease you for it. in the next few days you got the result back, you did have PCOS. you pouted at the letter. sakuya came over and peered at it. “at least it wasn’t a wasted trip…” he jokes to cheer you up, to which you hit him gently over the head with the envelope. “it’s okay sweetie.. i’m always here for you” he says softly after fixing his hair and hugging you close from behind.

thank you for reading!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

masterlist here .ᐟ.ᐟ

requests: closed ❤️

#nct wish #nct #nct fanfic #nct wish fanfic #sakuya #sakuya fanfic #sakuya x reader #nct fluff #nct wish fluff #fanfic #fanfic fluff #pcos #pcosawareness #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #writer stuff

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bitemevanitas · 3 months ago

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Vanitas and s/o going to the doctors for a vaccine or checkup or blood analysis or smt and they like have to hold his hand and talk to him the whole time like to a 5 year old because the doctor looks too much like that mad scientist and the syringe reminds him of the time in the lab and of the awful painful experiments.

And they kiss over the bandage afterwards and they go hand in hand to get his fav food

I'm kinda late with this one, I'm so sorry (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

But, here it is - PETITE PIQÛRE 💉

Paris was dimming into dusk, the last threads of sunlight casting long shadows over the cobblestone streets.

The Hôtel Chouchou carried the soft hum of an evening settling in—maids scurrying through hallways, the occasional clink of fine china from the dining room, and, of course, Vanitas' insistent bickering.

"I am a doctor," Vanitas declared, attempting to push himself out of the chair, only to find your iron grip shoving him back down. "A very competent one, might I add—so I hardly see the need for some stranger to prod at me with needles!"

You, arms crossed, gave him an unimpressed look. "You are not a doctor, Vanitas."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you’re not."

"I have medical expertise!"

"That does not make you a doctor!"

"It should!"

"For the last time, you need that vaccine, you absolute child!" you hissed, pressing down on his shoulders when he tried again to wriggle free. "Raccoons can carry rabies! Have you ever seen someone with rabies? It’s a horrible death, Vanitas!"

"Well, I haven’t died yet," he snapped, leaning back as far as possible to avoid your looming presence. "And I don’t intend to, so let’s just drop the subject!"

You narrowed your eyes. "Not happening."

Vanitas opened his mouth, undoubtedly to conjure up another protest, but a knock at the door cut him short. He froze.

You let out an exasperated sigh. "Enfin.."

The door creaked open, and the doctor stepped inside.

A short, round man with a far too big coat and glasses that swallowed half his face peered at them kindly.

His moustache twitched as he smiled—a polite, practiced expression, but Vanitas didn’t see kindness. He saw something else.

An ugly, pink coat. Thick lenses. The smell of disinfectant. A lab.

The room narrowed. Vanitas’ fingers dug into the plush armrests.

It was him.

Or—no. Not him. Not Moreau. But close enough. Too close.

"Bonsoir" the doctor greeted. "I understand there's been an incident with a rodent?"

You, entirely oblivious to Vanitas' rapidly mounting distress, nodded curtly. "He was bitten earlier today. Hasn't shown any symptoms so far, but I want him checked over immediately."

Vanitas didn’t hear you. He could only hear the way the doctor’s boots scuffed against the floorboards as he walked in.

The shuffle of medical supplies being unwrapped, the exact same sound he had heard in that lab a lifetime ago—cold metal against sterile trays, Moreau humming, scalpels gleaming under lamplight.

Moreau, leaning in too close.

"Let’s try another dosage, shall we, No. 69?"

He clenched his jaw. His hands were slick with sweat.

You were still talking. "—so, he’s being dramatic about it, but please make sure he—" You faltered.

Vanitas realized, too late, that he must have looked terrible, because your face had shifted from mild irritation to concern.

"Vanitas?"

He swallowed. He couldn't do this. He had to leave. He had to move.

But he couldn’t.

His thighs trembled under his weight. His chest was too tight, his lungs unable to keep up with his rapid heartbeat.

"Well then," the doctor said calmly, adjusting his sleeves as he turned back toward Vanitas. "Shall we begin?"

Vanitas flinched.

You noticed, and turned your full attention to him now, no longer sparing the doctor another glance.

His hands had curled into the fabric of his coat, knuckles white. His eyes, usually so sharp, were dull with something dangerously close to fear.

"Vanitas," you murmured.

His breath hitched.

The doctor was saying something, something about preparing the injection, but you ignored it. Instead, you reached forward and gently took his face in your hands, guiding him away from the doctor’s looming presence.

"Look at me," you said softly.

His eyes flickered, unfocused.

"Hey, hey," you whispered. "It’s just me, alright? Just me."

A single tear slipped down his cheek. You exhaled, barely realizing you had been holding your breath. Carefully, you wiped the tear away with your thumb.

"You’re okay," you whispered.

Vanitas’ fingers twitched. He didn’t take your hand, didn’t lace your fingers as you had expected. Instead, he latched onto the fabric of your own coat and hid against you, forehead pressing into your chest.

A small, barely-audible sound left him—a breath, a whimper, a plea, you weren’t entirely sure.

You reacted without thinking. One hand cradled the back of his head, guiding him closer, while the other rested against his shoulder.

The doctor, to his credit, said nothing. He continued his work, ignoring them both as you quietly stroked Vanitas’ hair.

"You're alright," you whispered. "I'm right here."

His heartbeat, still frantic, slowly found a rhythm that matched yours.

You kissed his temple.

He exhaled, shuddering.

The doctor rolled up Vanitas' sleeve, and though his entire body tensed, your thumb rubbed slow circles against the back of his neck.

"Only a small sting," you assured him. "And then it's over."

The moment the needle broke skin, Vanitas stiffened against you, so much so, that you could feel every tiny reaction—the small tremor in his hands, the way his grip on your coat faltered just slightly, the tense exhale he let out through his nose.

"Shh," you hushed, your lips brushing against the top of his head. "You're doing so well, mon cœur."

He let out a slow, measured breath, his forehead still tucked against your shoulder. He wasn’t looking at the doctor, wouldn’t even lift his head, and you had no intention of making him.

The doctor worked quickly. A swift, practiced motion, and it was over. "And.. that’s it," he said, voice light as he reached for a small roll of bandages. "You did well, young man."

Vanitas said nothing.

You, still running gentle fingers through his hair, turned your cheek against his head. "See? A small sting. And now it's over."

He exhaled, and you felt the last bit of tension leave his frame.

The doctor wrapped the bandage neatly around his arm, tying it off with precise fingers. Then, without another word, he packed up his equipment, snapping his medical bag shut with a quiet click.

You finally glanced up. "Merci, Docteur," you said, nodding politely, though you made no move to release Vanitas from your arms.

"Of course, mademoiselle." The doctor gave them both a small, unreadable smile, adjusting his coat. "If he experiences any discomfort, keep the area cool. If symptoms arise, feel free to contact me again."

You nodded. "I’ll inform Monsieur Orlok that the payment will be arranged."

The doctor inclined his head. "Very well. I’ll see myself out."

Vanitas didn’t watch him leave. He simply stayed put, his breath still coming in slow, deliberate exhales against your shoulder.

You let him.

For another moment, you simply held him, your fingers combing through his hair. The dark strands were impossibly soft between your fingertips, his body warm against yours.

Finally, you leaned back just enough to see him. "Let me see your arm."

A hesitation. A flicker of uncertainty behind half-lidded blue eyes.

Then, slowly, he lifted it.

You took his wrist gently, cradling it as if it were something utterly breakable. The bandage was small—nothing dramatic, hardly anything at all—but the weight behind it, the reason for his distress, was what made you press a soft kiss to it.

Vanitas blinked.

You made a quiet, satisfied noise, as if you hadn't just done something so tender. "You survived," you said, voice lilting with amusement. "And you didn’t cry—well, not much, at least."

Vanitas made a noise of protest, but you pressed another quick kiss to his arm before he could formulate an actual retort.

"You did well," you added softly, letting your lips linger just a second longer. "I'm proud of you."

Vanitas swallowed. His eyes flickered to yours, and for once, he didn’t mask anything. No attempt at deflection, no teasing. Just quiet acceptance.

You offered a small smile. "Now, let’s get you something to eat, before you topple over from shock.."

Vanitas exhaled lightly—something soft, and quiet. "D'accord.."

You grinned. "Good boy."

"Don’t push it," he muttered, though his hand found yours anyway, fingers lacing together as you pulled him to his feet.

•

#vanitas no carte #les memoires de vanitas #vnc #the case study of vanitas #vnc vanitas #vanitas x reader

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aurora-ze-aquarius · 22 days ago

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Been thinking about the Sally and McQueen swap au I wanted to work on around 2 years ago (damn this cars burn out hits hard). I saw someone make their version of swapped!Sally, and I wanted to talk about some ideas I had for swapped!McQueen.

Editor's Note:

I only wanted to quickly talk about some ideas, but then I started rambling about his backstory lmaooo 😭😭. It's quite a long read.

Also note, I'm not too familiar with the process of becoming a lawyer or anything, I just wanted a justification as to why McQueen is a lawyer in my version of the au lolllll.

I'd like to imagine that McQueen would be more friendly and be more expressive on his geeky side. Yeah he can still be snarky and passive aggressive, but he's more attentive of his actions and can quickly correct it. Imagine his cars on the road attitude essentially.

Stealing some old headcanons I got from @askthecarscharacters a while back (WOW IT'S A WHILE *WHILE* BACK 😭), McQueen first ended up in Radiator Springs after a terrible crash. He was only so young, barely in his early 20s, but with a combination of backstabbing from college, a horrible boss, and a cheating racer who noticed how better he was at the competition than anyone else and decided to put a stop to him, McQueen was lost. Broken.

He cut contact with his only remaining family left after a huge fall out. He could never bring himself to be friendly with the other racers after what happened with Carl. He had no one.

He had been wandering down the road with no direction afterwards when he was fully fixed up. Well, fully in a sense that they fixed all they could, but there were parts of his body that couldn't be repaired unless they had specific, yet incredibly rare pieces. After all, McQueen was built to be one of a kind. There weren't any other racecars with frames like his. He was retired before he could even set his wheels on the racing world.

Back to the subject, he's just been wandering around aimlessly, with no sense of direction of where he was going. Somehow, he ended up on that route in the midwest, and finally broke down. His engine couldn't bear it anymore. But just when he nearly lost all hope, a friendly voice suddenly popped up right next to him.

"Boy, howdy there visitor! What chu doin out here in the middle of dusty Arid-zona? Hurhur! Geddit!?"

McQueen nearly felt the life jump of him as he heard the towtruck laugh. How long had he been there? Suddenly, the truck began to haul him back to town, saying his name was Mater and that they'll get him all fixed up. He didn't bother to flee from the guy, not that he could anyway.

The towtruck asked him what his name was. His name? He almost answered, perhaps by instinct, with his racing name, but stopped. He didn't think he could answer with it. Not anymore. So he muttered out a nickname, not wanting to use his legal name (bad memories come rushing back to him), but it's a nickname he's not against being called by.

"... Monty."

He couldn't remember what happened on the trip to town. From what he could remember, it was somewhat empty, but as soon as the residents saw him, they got excited, but was quickly met with concern. Either way, they somewhat swarmed him for a bit. One of them (Flo, he thinks), reminded Mater to take him to the clinic first, stopping the towtruck from going on a tirade about how tasty cactus smoothies were with another car (he doesn't remember how it even got to that point).

The check up went... fine..? McQueen wasn't sure. The doctor gave him a thorough check up, and really helped cooldown his engine that's been burning up from the heat, but McQueen couldn't help but notice the look of disdain on the doctor's face. He could see his brows knit together in a subtle sneer whenever he caught a glimpse of the stickers he still wore. He hadn't had the chance to take them off yet. Nonetheless, the check up proceeded without any casualties. McQueen muttered a small thank you as it was declared done.

"Right. Now that's settled. Rest up for the day, so that by tomorrow you can get your trunk to the next darn race you have and leave this town be."

"... I don't have a race to be at..."

His response made Doc pause, and glance at him with an odd look.

"Pardon?"

"I mean, I'm a racecar, yeah. But..."

Doc's look softened as the weight of McQueen's words settled in. He let out a sigh, the irritance of his voice dropping a bit.

"Well. Suppose if you're not going anywhere, you can stay for a bit..."

So he stayed in this small town. Got to know the people and the place itself a bit more. They were a strange bunch. He's met a lot of folks in the city, but none as eccentric as they were. It took some getting used to. He hadn't let anyone so close into his life, not ever since that day his closest friend betrayed him. And yet, against all odds, these strange people somehow won the key to his heart.

The worst offender had to be that towtruck. At first, he found him annoying. He was persistent and wouldn't let him out of his sights. One day, he finally asked him what he wanted out of him, what he could gain from being with him. The truck's response?

"Well shoot, man. Of course I got a lot I could gain! A best friend. Gosh darny, when I first saw yer, you looked really sad an' lonely. So I decided that I— the world's greatest towtruck— Mater— would be, yer best friend." He said that, with the biggest grin upon his face. He wanted to be his friend. A genuine friend. McQueen couldn't believe it.

Over time, he began to realize how much the citizens of this little town truly cared for him. Genuinely, he didn't know if they had ulterior motives, but they made it very clear to him that they didn't care about his status as a (now former) racer, they cared about him and his wellbeing. He's never felt such kindness in a long, long time.

Soon enough, he began to open up about his interests to them. Despite everything, his love for racing never went away. He told them tales about his heroes, how he always wanted to be like them ever since he was little. He shared stories about life in the fast lane, how different it was living among the towering skylines. The folks showed him the radio, and sometimes they would tune into races McQueen always rambled about.

Despite the friendly faces, there was still Doc though. At first, McQueen thought the old man was just your typical grumpy old town leader (he soon realized he was also the town's judge as well). But it soon became apparent that Doc was less upset at who he is, but rather the fact he was a racecar. He took note of how extra grumpy Doc became whenever he would talk about his races. He was rather uninterested when he showcased his merchandise and collectables of the racers he managed to obtain. It's as if the concept of racing was a stain Doc couldn't stop giving disgusted looks at. He never understood it, up until he discovered Doc's secret.

It was by complete accident. He stumbled across the garage and saw the trophies. He saw how upset and enraged Doc was when he saw him in the garage. Then it all clicked.

No wonder the old man looked familiar. He was the most renowned racer in Piston Cup history. A racer so great, yet suffered one of the worst crashes of the sport's time, and faded away. No wonder the old guy seemed to hate his guts.

So when he asked him to leave the garage, McQueen did so without a second thought. He didn't want to pry into Doc's past when it was clear when even being in the presence of another racecar is too painful. Honestly, while he could never truly understand it, he knows what it feels like to be hopeless, consumed by despair. So he respects his wishes and leaves, somewhat surprising Doc.

Doc expected him to be one of those nosey good for nothing hotrods. Yet, he remembers that the young lad came into town in the same state he was many years ago. Bitter and angry at the world. He went to visit McQueen later, and decided to clear the air with him. He didn't hate him. Seeing him, a racecar, brought a feeling of dread and uncertainty to the old car. He was looking for a reason to hate him, but he couldn't. What he did hate was how the racing world, yet again, failed another soul. Doused the flames of this racer's passion out with cold water. Like what happened with him.

He wasn't angry at Monty's presence. He was angry at how the racing world never changed.

From that moment on, he and McQueen became friends as well, now that they have a newfound understanding with each other.

However, there was still the issue of McQueen still feeling lost and unsure of what he wanted to do. He wants to give back to the kind strangers— now friends who essentially saved his life. Doc could see how lost the young car was, so he encouraged him to keep holding onto hope. He'll find a new passion one day (hopefully a less dangerous one).

McQueen looked around the whole of Radiator Springs, and took note of the old motel left in an almost abandoned condition. Flo currently had ownership over it but focused more on her restaurant business above it (not like many people these days stay in town anyway).

He decided that he could start with that. He started out by helping the townsfolk manage their businesses, and even took reign of refurbishing the motel from Flo. He felt like he had his purpose again. But he knew he could do so much more. So he decided to leave for a while to get a college degree. Everyone was sad to see him go, especially Mater, but he promised to come back. He couldn't thank them enough for essentially saving his life.

By the time we meet McQueen in Cars (in this au), he's visiting the town for summer break, currently studying to be a lawyer, in hopes of helping Doc manage the town (and in case any of the guys need a lawyer for whatever reason). By Cars 2, he's become a full on lawyer. Not as savvy or as experienced as og Sally, but he's the one who's most often handling court business the (now lively) Radiator Springs has.

So yeah, I think I've rambled in a bit too much, lemme know if you wanna hear more unhinged shizz about this 🩵

#chequered flags and lightning bugs au #pixar cars #lightning mcqueen #doc hudson #tow mater #sally carerra #cars headcanons #cars au #cars 2006 #🌌📝

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sleekervae · 8 months ago

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Wicked Games ❅ 7

Masterlist

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x socialite!fem!reader

Summary: Coriolanus confides in Sable

Warnings: blood and flesh wound, mentions of violence and murder

Word Count: 5,073

It was no surprise that the attack had been the forefront of the news tonight, instead of highlighting any details from the debate. There was talk of whether another debate should be rescheduled to make up for the lost time, while some late night news outlets had the gaul to call the attack a "publicity stunt". After all, Coriolanus was a hero -- to some people, at least.

He had been rushed to the infirmary, besides the wound in his shoulder he only suffered some minor bumps and bruises. Garrison and Tigris finally managed to rendezvous with Coriolanus as well, fearful yet so, so grateful that he was okay. Sable wasn't family, so she wasn't allowed into the infirmary ward. Nevertheless, she sat outside in her dress and her heels, staring blankly at the stone white wall as she waited for... something. Any update would at least give her reeling mind something else to focus on.

Coriolanus killed a man.

Growing up in the rebellion, Sable had unfortunately come across her fair share of deaths; some more violent than others. She never really watched violence become so glorified until she came to the Capitol, where she couldn't escape the wretched Hunger Games no matter where she went. Oh sure, she'd do her best to avoid the violent acts the best she could, but tonight there was no getting away from it.

Terror flooded Sable’s veins, raw and relentless. It wasn’t just the nightmarish vision of blood spilling across the convention floor that clung to her, or the horrific sounds of panic from the crowd—it was Coriolanus. He had stood on that stage, unflinching, so utterly composed as he loomed over the poor soul’s lifeless body. His face was a mask, devoid of emotion, as if the violence had merely been a task to complete, something mundane. That was what truly frightened her.

She replayed the moment in her mind, over and over again. The way his grip had tightened on the microphone stand, the lethal focus in his eyes as he stared down his attacker. And afterward, the eerie calm that settled over him, like nothing had happened. Like taking a life was just another part of the game. There was no trembling, no shock in his demeanor. Only cold, calculating detachment.

Sable’s heart twisted, her stomach knotting with unease. It was one thing to be ambitious, to make strategic moves in their political arena, but to be so unaffected by the death of a man—that unnerved her in ways she hadn’t anticipated.

She had no qualms about continuing their partnership. It was still mutually beneficial, and they both needed this arrangement to further their ambitions. But now, she had something new to look out for. Coriolanus had always been driven, determined, and a little dangerous, but now she understood how far that danger could go. It wasn’t just a game for him anymore—he was willing to do whatever it took, no matter the cost.

The realization weighed heavy on her chest. She had always prided herself on being able to read people, to anticipate their next moves. But now she wasn’t sure what Coriolanus would do next, or how far he would go to secure his position. And that scared her more than she wanted to admit.

Sable drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. She couldn’t afford to show weakness now. Not when the stakes were so high.

"Sable," Tigris's voice carried down the hall, effectively snapping the socialite from her own head, "You're still here," she sounded more surprised than anything, though she appeared grateful as she came to stand before her.

Sable nodded, her shoulders tense as her face flooded with concern, "Yes -- I... I mean I wanted to know if he's... is he--?"

"He's fine," Tigris assured her, taking the seat next to her, "The wound is superficial but the doctor wants him to rest for a couple days. Good luck, I guess," she simpered anxiously.

The girls sat side-by-side, their eyes drawn to the far wall as if the chaos from earlier still lingered in the shadows. It was only now, in the heavy silence of the room, that Sable realized how little she truly knew about Tigris Snow. Despite their occasional meetings and the growing partnership between her and Coriolanus, she had never really spoken to Tigris, never dug deeper into the woman who had been by his side for so long. Their connection was shallow at best—much like her connection to Coriolanus himself.

"That was scary," Sable admitted, her hands gripping the fabric of her dress until her knuckles turned white. The tension was still humming in her veins, her thoughts spiralling back to the bloodshed and the disquieting calm in Coriolanus’s eyes, "I haven’t seen such chaos since… the rebellion, I guess."

Tigris nodded, her expression distant but knowing, lips pursed as if she, too, was wandering down those dark corridors of memory. The rebellion had been a lifetime ago, yet the scars it left were still visible, woven into the very fabric of their world, "It never really leaves you," Tigris said quietly, her voice low and measured, "The fear. The uncertainty,"

She didn’t need to say more for Sable to understand. They all carried the weight of the rebellion on their shoulders, some heavier than others. For Coriolanus and Tigris, it was not just the loss of their family’s fortune or status—it was survival. The things they’d done, the lines they’d crossed, and the decisions made during those desperate times had shaped them into who they were now.

"He’s changed," Tigris continued, her eyes lowering to her lap as though the admission cost her something. "Corio… he’s not the boy I remember. So much was taken from him. Not just the rebellion, but the Hunger Games. What you saw tonight… it’s not the first time..."

Sable swallowed hard, her stomach twisting at the thought. The rebellion had been brutal, sure, but it hadn’t stripped her of her ability to feel. She could still remember the panic, the helplessness, the way the Capitol turned against itself. But Coriolanus? He had been in the thick of it, navigating survival in ways she couldn’t imagine. Even in the Hunger Games, eighteen-years-old and despite all the chagrins, he somehow managed to keep his head on.

"He's always been able to detach like that?" Sable asked, though she already suspected the answer.

Tigris looked away, her gaze distant as though reliving moments from years past, "There have times he had no choice. It’s how he survived." Her voice was tight with emotion, a trace of sadness lacing her words. "But now… I don’t know if he remembers how to stop. Or if he even wants to,"

Sable bit her lip, the weight of Tigris’s words settling in her chest. This wasn't just about survival anymore—it was about power. Control. Coriolanus was chasing something far more dangerous than mere victory, and she was tethered to him, willingly or not.

"Is that what this is for him?" Sable murmured, almost to herself. "Another battle to survive?"

Tigris glanced at her, a faint sadness in her eyes, "Perhaps. But it’s also a battle he intends to win at any cost,"

Sable shivered, her mind replaying the way Coriolanus had stood over the attacker’s body, unbothered, unshaken. She had agreed to this partnership knowing it was dangerous, knowing that Coriolanus was driven by ambition. But now, she was beginning to realize just how far that ambition could go—and how little room there might be for her, or anyone else, should they get in his way.

"Be careful," Tigris said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "Whatever this is between you two… just be careful,"

Sable nodded, though she wasn’t sure what else to say. The line between her and Coriolanus was becoming dangerously blurred, and for the first time, she wondered whether she was in over her head.

Coriolanus went home that night, though sleep remained elusive. He lay in the dark, his mind racing, the events of the evening playing on a loop in his head. The moment the attacker had rushed the stage, the instinctual way he had grabbed the microphone stand, the sharp crack of the impact—those seconds had felt both agonizingly slow and lightning fast. Even now, hours later, the adrenaline still hummed faintly beneath his skin.

He turned over, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts drifting to Sable. What must she have thought as she watched him, calm and calculated in the midst of chaos? He had caught a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye—her wide, shocked expression, the way her body had gone rigid in her seat. She’d seen him in control before, but never like this. Never so cold, so utterly detached from the violence.

There was no denying it—she had to be scared of him now.

He couldn’t blame her. The calm that had come over him wasn’t something he could easily explain, not in a way that would make sense to her. She hadn’t been through what he had—hadn’t seen the Hunger Games and its fallout the way he did. He learned to keep his emotions in check because emotions were liabilities, distractions. And in the world he was aiming to rule, there was no room for those.

Still, a part of him wondered if he had overplayed his hand. Sable was his ally, a vital part of his campaign. He couldn’t afford to lose her trust. But after tonight… had that trust been shattered? He knew how observant she was, how quickly she could read a situation, and tonight she had witnessed something deeper than the charm he’d usually wrapped around himself like armor.

He thought back to her gaze when their eyes had locked after the attack. There was no relief, no reassurance. Only fear. It was a look that he couldn’t shake.

What would she do now?

Sable was smart, calculating in her own way, and he knew better than to underestimate her. But he also knew she wasn’t like him. She wasn’t built for the kind of ruthlessness that came as second nature to him. Would she still see him as her partner, or would she start seeing him as a threat? Would she try to distance herself, put space between them as a way to protect herself? Or would she play along, pretending nothing had changed while silently reassessing everything?

He couldn't quite predict her next move.

He winced as he rolled over again, the wound under his bandage tugging painfully at his shoulder. Coriolanus shut his eyes, trying to block out the thoughts swirling in his mind. He had bigger things to focus on—the debate, the campaign, his rise to the top. But in the back of his mind, Sable lingered like a shadow, and he knew that this partnership, whatever it was becoming, had shifted. She had seen something tonight that couldn’t be unseen.

And she wasn’t the only one.

Coriolanus knew the audience had been watching too. Every move, every reaction, carefully documented and filed away in their minds. He had remained cool in the face of chaos, but was that what they wanted? Or had they seen a man too comfortable with violence, too detached from the humanity of it all?

Was this the beginning of his rise—or the start of his downfall?

In the shadows of that question, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he heard the doorbell reverberate through the penthouse. Coriolanus sat up sharply, the chill of the night air biting at his skin as he glanced at the clock. It was far too late for visitors, and his security detail was supposed to prevent unannounced guests from even reaching his door. Tigris or Garrison would've let him know beforehand if they dropped by.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulling on a robe before padding silently toward the entrance. His mind raced with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. The events of the night had already left him on edge—was this another escalation?

As he neared the door, Coriolanus took a steadying breath, his hand hovering over the handle before he yanked it open. His eyes widened in surprise.

There, standing in the dim light of the hallway, was Sable.

"How did you get in here?" His voice was sharp, more out of confusion than aggression. He searched her face, noting the tension in her jaw, the slight tremor in her hands as she wrapped her arms around herself.

Sable shrugged casually, but there was an edge to her voice, "Nice to see you, too,"

"Sable..."

"Your doorman likes me, what can I say?"

Her answer didn't satisfy him. His grip tightened on the doorframe as he scanned the empty hall behind her. No guards. No sign of how she had bypassed the extensive security measures.

"You shouldn’t be here," he said, though his words lacked conviction. A part of him was relieved to see her, despite the suddenness of her appearance.

Sable took a step closer, her gaze piercing as she looked up at him. "I wanted to see you."

"For what? To tell me you want out?" His words hung in the air, heavy still. He studied her, trying to gauge what had driven her to show up at his door in the middle of the night.

"I don't want out," she said softly, though he could hear the waver in her voice.

"Then what do you want?" He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms, his eyes narrowing.

For a long moment, Sable didn't answer. She just stood there, her eyes locked on his, as if searching for something—maybe the man she had thought he was, or maybe a glimpse of the one who had calmly taken a life hours before.

"I wanted to see if you're okay," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're my friend."

Coriolanus stared at her, her words hanging in the air, heavy and unfamiliar. Friend. The weight of that single word settled over him like a shroud, pressing against the image he had so carefully crafted of himself. There was no simple answer to that sentiment, and he knew it. Sable had witnessed something tonight that couldn't be undone, something darker—something that had always existed beneath the surface, now laid bare for her to see.

He looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of fear or doubt, but all he saw was concern. Genuine concern. And that unnerved him more than anything else.

"I don't need you to worry about me," Coriolanus replied, his tone measured but distant. "I'm fine,"

Sable took a step closer, the tension in the space between them thickening. "I know you're fine. But that doesn’t mean you’re okay." Her gaze softened, lingering on him as if she could see through the layers of composure he wore.

Coriolanus let out a breath, his eyes narrowing slightly, "This is what we signed up for. What I signed up for," he said, though it felt like a hollow justification even as the words left his mouth.

Sable didn’t respond right away. She simply stood there, watching him with that same unreadable expression, "It doesn’t mean you have to go through it alone,"

Her words, simple as they were, stirred something in him—something dangerous, something he couldn’t afford to feel.

"...Are you gonna' invite me in, or do I just get to stand here and look pretty?" Sable teased, the tension between them shifting with her playful tone, though the weight of the night still lingered.

Coriolanus blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the change in mood. Her lightness was disarming, and for a moment, it almost felt like things could return to their usual banter. He stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter, "I’m sure you’re more than capable of doing both,"

She glided past him, her usual air of confidence intact, but as she crossed the threshold into his space, there was a subtle hesitation in her step. Coriolanus noticed. It was as if, despite the teasing, she was still processing what had happened. And, in truth, so was he.

As he closed the door behind her, a part of him wondered why he had let her in—why he hadn't kept her at arm's length, as he had with everyone else.

Sable had changed out of her dress from before, now wrapped in a cozy grey wool sweater and a black skirt that fell just above her knees. It was the first time he’d seen her in anything other than blue, and the sight made him simper as she settled into his couch. She wasn't so much sultry now as she was... cute. Plainly and simply cute.

“So, you do own other colors,” Coriolanus remarked, sitting across from her, his tone lightly teasing.

Sable met his gaze, smirking back, “That’s more than I can say for you,”

He let out a low chuckle, leaning back, "I have other colors," he assured her. Sable cocked her head, glancing up and down at his broad physique in the rich red housecoat, "... Besides this,"

“Oh, of course,” Sable nodded, her eyes softening with a hint of concern. His bandage was peaking from under the lapel of his house coat, a faint shade of red soaking through, “How’s the wing?”

“Fine,” Coriolanus replied, though the physical wound wasn’t what truly ached. “I just have to take it easy for the rest of the week.”

“Did the doctor tell you that, or is it more of a 'suggestion'?” she asked, an eyebrow quirking up.

“I’m fine, Sable,” he assured her, a touch more firmly this time, trying to dispel the topic with his tone. He didn’t want to discuss it, not when other wounds—the deeper ones—were still fresh.

She leaned back slightly, her fingers absentmindedly grazing the edge of the couch. There was a silence between them, the kind that felt loaded, waiting for one of them to break it.

“You’ve… done it before, haven’t you?” Sable’s voice was barely above a whisper, but her words sliced through the quiet like a blade. Her eyes met his, no judgment in them—just curiosity. Maybe even fear.

Coriolanus stared at her, the weight of her question sinking in. He could feel it—the unspoken horror of what she’d witnessed, still hanging between them. She had seen him in a way no one else had -- no one still alive, anyway -- and that knowledge made this moment heavier than it should have been.

“Why do you ask?” he finally responded, his voice low, cautious.

“I don’t know,” she murmured, looking away for a moment as if searching for the right words, “The way you handled it… You were so calm. Like it wasn’t anything new,”

She glanced back at him, waiting for him to fill the silence with an answer that could either draw them closer or push her further into the distance.

"... Are you scared of me?” he asked, his voice hesitant.

Sable shrugged, her eyes drifting down to the coffee table between them. An empty mug sat there, faint tea stains lining the inside—clearly neglected for some time. Next to it, a well-worn book on chess lay open, its spine cracked and frayed from overuse. Of course. Coriolanus treated life like a chess game. Every move calculated, every decision a strategy. That much was obvious.

But this? This wasn’t just a game.

"No," she murmured, though her voice faltered, uncertain. Her gaze remained fixed on anything but him. "I grew up in the peak of the rebellion. District 3 was in chaos—neighbors turning on neighbors, people killing over the smallest scraps of food. There was a time when we had no housing, and we had to sleep in the church basement… surrounded by rats," she paused, a shudder passing through her, "So many nights I'd wake up screaming, finding them chewing at my fingers,"

Coriolanus's eyes drifted down to her hands, now perfectly manicured and moisturized. He again noticed the faint, almost invisible scars that lined her fingers and palms, remnants of a past she’d never spoken of until now.

"That's terrifying for an adult, let alone a child," he noted.

"Yes," she looked at him again, "You've killed before, haven't you?" she asked again.

With bated breath, Coriolanus tentatively admitted, "Yes, I have,"

"Who?"

"... three or four people,"

Sable scoffed quietly, "We're not counting candies, Coriolanus. Was it three or four people?"

Coriolanus slumped back in his seat, weighed down by memories that clung to him like shadows. The faces, the names, they never left him: Bobbin, Mayfair, Sejanus... He hadn't pulled the trigger on his friend, but his actions had sealed Sejanus’s fate. He may as well have been the one to execute him. And then there was Lucy Gray...

“I don’t know if... the fourth might’ve gotten away,” he muttered darkly. “I never found her again.”

He half-expected Sable to recoil, to stand up and walk out of his life. It would’ve been the smart choice. She should’ve left him sitting there, a man with too many bodies weighing on his conscience. But she didn’t move. Instead, she stayed rooted in her seat, her gaze fixed on him, watching an exhausted predator licking his wounds.

"Were they a means to an end?" she asked, her voice a careful balance between cautious and curious.

“Yes,” he admitted.

"... Would you kill again if you had to?" she asked.

He hesitated before he answered, the weight of his actions bearing heavily on him. The answer however was clear in the depths of his conscience:

"Yes,"

Sable’s eyes never wavered, though he could see the gears turning in her mind. “And if pushed far enough, would you... do the same to me?” Her question hung in the air, both fair and terrifying.

"I can't think of a reason—"

"If pushed, would you hurt me?" Sable asked again, leaving no room for ambiguity.

He didn’t want to answer that, didn’t want to admit the truth that gnawed at him in the quiet corners of his soul. But he knew better. His nature was too greedy, too ruthless. He’d take what he wanted, just like she would. Only, there was one stark difference between them: Sable had never crossed that line. She’d never killed anyone. He wasn't sure if she ever could. She was delicate in a way he no longer was.

But him? He had crossed that line long ago. He’d become something else, something darker—a ticking freak who could snap at any given moment.

And if Sable ever pushed him far enough, he feared the truth. He feared that he could snap at her, too.

"If pushed enough, yes," he finally admitted it, "I don't want to... but I could,"

A tense silence settled between them, the weight of his answer hanging heavily in the air. Two months ago, Coriolanus might not have cared. Sable would have been just another casualty, someone who could easily be added to his secret body count. He could make her disappear with a perfectly crafted lie, something so convenient no one would question him.

But now? Something had shifted. He'd grown to like having her around, grown to appreciate her wit, her sharpness. There was something magnetic about her presence. He might have even been attracted to her in ways he hadn’t fully acknowledged.

Yet that was the problem. One stray decision, one wrong move, and he could destroy her completely. The thought lingered like a dangerous temptation, reminding him that, no matter how close they became, he was capable of destroying her.

Sable should be terrified.

However, she stayed on the couch, looking at him -- through him, really -- and he had to wonder what gears were turning in her mind. Her gaze averted to his bandage, her brow quirked.

"You should change that," she noted, "It's bleeding through,"

Coriolanus followed her gaze to the bandage, brow furrowing as he peeled back his coat lapel. Sure enough, the white gauze was stained with fresh crimson, seeping through in small patches. He hadn't even noticed.

"I’ll manage," he muttered, brushing it off as if it didn’t matter.

But Sable didn’t seem convinced. Without hesitation, she stood from the couch, crossing the room before he could even think to protest.

"Oh, please," she insisted, already finding his bathroom, "Men say they're fine one day, then they're having catheters put in the next,"

Coriolanus blinked, momentarily stunned. The last thing he expected was for her to offer help like this, especially after his... admission. It wasn’t just that she cared, it was that she didn’t seem rattled by the idea of getting close, even after what he’d just admitted to her.

He followed her to the bathroom, finding her rummaging around in what little he had in his medicine cabinet. Her brows furrowed in frustration, "God, you really need to fill this up! Maybe with some pain meds, at least. Some bandages, burn cream..." she huffed, "Everybody burns themselves in the kitchen,"

Coriolanus couldn't help but be amused by her frustration, "You may find this a shock, but I don't cook often," he reached for a drawer in the bathroom counter and pulled it open, revealing a basic collection of gauze and medical tape. Sable glowered back at him.

"Now, was that so hard to tell me?"

"Maybe I just like watching you struggle?"

She hummed as she picked through his supplies, "You must truly be a sadist. Sit," she directed him to the lid-down toilet.

Coriolanus sat back, unsure, watching as she kneeled down beside him, delicate fingers carefully peeling away the blood-soaked bandage. It dawned on him then that this was the closest, physically, they had been in private. No Capitol elites, no rubbernecking reporters, no cameras blinding him. It was just the two of them, blood beginning to stain her fingers as she cleaned up around his gash.

He found Sable maddeningly complex—annoying in her ability to read between his carefully crafted lines, manipulative in the way she twisted conversations to suit her agenda. Yet, despite the frustration she stirred in him, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She moved through his world like a puzzle he couldn't quite solve, and it drove him to the edge, tempting him with the allure of understanding her layers. He knew there was danger in letting her get too close, yet her unpredictability only deepened his fascination. Even as she knelt before him now, tending to his wound with a gentleness that clashed with her sharpness, he was drawn to her in a way that defied all logic.

"Why are you helping me?" he asked, his voice softer than he intended.

Sable didn’t look up, her focus on his wound, "Maybe I’m just not scared of you like you think," she replied.

"You should be," he muttered.

Her eyes flicked up then, catching his gaze with an intensity that made his heart skip. Those deep brown eyes, flecked with gold, shimmered in the dim bathroom light. Her lips—so soft, so close—shimmery with gloss, full and inviting. The thought flashed through his mind again, unbidden but undeniable, wondering how they would taste, how she might react if he leaned in just a little closer, if he dared to cross that line.

"Are you telling me, or threatening me?" she asked, her gaze never wavering.

"I'm telling you," he assured her, "I might not be the shiny gold prince you think I am,"

Sable’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile as she continued to tend to his wound, "Well," she said, her tone light but thoughtful, "I'm not exactly a polished princess either, if you think about it. And yet, here we are,"

Coriolanus chuckled, the sound low and amused, “Are you joking? You're the very definition of 'princess'” he said, his gaze still locked with hers.

"But I got parts of me I'm not gonna show to everyone, just like you," she told him.

"I told you that I could kill you not five minutes ago," he reminded her.

“And do you want to?” she asked, sitting back on her knees, her gaze unwavering and challenging.

The question hung in the air, charged with unspoken tension. Coriolanus observed Sable as she knelt on the bathroom tiles, the flickering light casting delicate shadows across her face. Her position made her appear vulnerable, her delicate frame small and exposed in the dimly lit room.

He couldn't help but notice the way her breath hitched slightly with each movement. Their proximity stirred his thoughts, he could think of a plethora of things he could to do to her... even right here in the bathroom, up high in front of the full scale window. No one in the Capitol would be the wiser to all the carnal things he could do to her, no one would hear how he would make her scream.

Coriolanus shook off the darker thoughts, his gaze returning to her eyes, which remained steady and defiant. The contrast between her calm demeanor and his tumultuous thoughts only deepened his fascination.

“Not right now,” he finally replied, his voice softer, “But I can’t promise you forever,"

Her smile widened as she continued to tend to his wound. "I'm not asking for forever, remember? Just until after the election," she teased, her tone light, "After that—you can do whatever you want with me,"

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow, "Sable..."

Her hand rested on his knee, the warmth of her touch seeping through the fabric of his trousers. She sat back on her knees, her gaze steady and her voice serious, "But if I ever do something that irks you or makes you angry... talk to me first before you consider murder. I'd appreciate it more,"

He couldn’t help but smile at her nonchalance. Despite the gravity of their conversation, her ease brought him a strange comfort, "You're crazy," he remarked.

"So I've been told," she shrugged, rising to her feet.

Coriolanus watched her head toward the sink, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer, "You might be even crazier than I am," he admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Sable glanced back at him, a playful glint in her eye as she washed her hands, “I’ll take that as a compliment,”

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deadbydad · 1 year ago

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Married and Soon to be Parents Cloud Strife x Aerith Gainsborough Headcanons

I haven't seen anyone else do this, so I will! @kpoplovermjm , @dansantcaparet , @blankbeat

Cloud would absolutely treat her like the queen Aerith is, even more so now that she's pregnant.

When Aerith told Cloud and showed him the papers from the doctor proving the pregnancy, Cloud was so excited about the news that it shocked her a little bit because she didn't think she's ever seen him this happy before.

Of course Cloud and Aerith started working on the nursery room as soon as they found out they were gonna have a baby boy, Cloud would even wake up in the middle of the night to go grab the material for the crib. He even decorated it with flowers he carefully picked from their personal garden.

Aerith cried happy tears when she woke up to the crib.

They both went shopping for baby supplies and clothes and Cloud picked out a baby chocobo onesie, then Aerith found a matching one in Clouds size and bought it without telling him (She's making him wear it for family pictures)

Cloud started to learn how to cook all of Aeriths pregnancy cravings that he started a cook book of his own and kept it in a safe place, just in case they have another kid in the future

Aerith would sometimes get irritated at Cloud whenever he wouldn't let her certain things that she could certainly do on her own, and when she told Cloud he understood and let her beat his ass in Queens Blood and made her favorite dessert

Cloud would always make sure to come home early from work so he could greet Aerith with a kiss, always asking how her and the baby are doing, offering if she wanted him to rub her feet or back, Cloud just being a good husband and soon to be dad.

Aerith always woke up to the sight of Cloud resting his head on her baby bump, a smile on his face as he talked to their unborn son about how amazing his mommy is and how much they already love him

And when Aerith's water broke and she went into labor, Cloud was there with her the whole time, encouraging her to keep cussing at him and crushing his hand (She felt bad afterward, but Cloud said that it was worth the pain)

On a weekend night, Denzel Strife was born with his fathers spiky hair but his mothers brown hair color and bright blue eyes that were full of wonder and curiosity as he stared up at Aerith and Cloud

Cloud cried so hard that night that Aerith was concerned he would be dehydrated by the time they left the hospital

When Cloud held Denzel in his arms for the first time, he would hum a tune that his own mother sang to him when he was little. Aerith pretended to be asleep but heard it all

And when Aerith and Cloud took Denzel home for the first time, it was the best day of their lives.

Yay! I had more, but these were the cuter ones that I wanted to write first!

#clerith #cloud x aerith #aerith x cloud #cloud strife #aerith gainsborough #final fantasy series #final fantasy vii #ff7 rebirth #final fantasy 7

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defectivegembrain · 2 years ago

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I hate when people seem to misunderstand Troy and Abed's relationship as being actually like what Vice Dean Laybourne tried to make them think it was. He didn't understand them, he understood just enough to present a simplified, stereotypical version of what they have. Like yes Abed was initially a little inconsiderate in his response to Troy, but honestly as an autistic person, I understand very well the frustration of having something planned out, being very focused on it, having an agreement with someone, and then they suddenly want to change it. People exaggerate how stubborn he was, he was literally about to give in before Laybourne manipulated him.

And he actually does that quite a lot. In the initial buildup of their friendship, he does things like take cues from Troy's behaviour and try to "mess with" him, because that's what Troy teaches him friends do. He's trying to connect on Troy's level. He plays basketball with him, engaging in interests he doesn't necessarily share, he tolerates Troy's competitiveness and lets him win the race to make him happy. It's Troy who has to get past the attitude that friends only do things for him and not the other way round.

And he does learn to be a good friend, but the idea that Abed doesn't show up for him just as much is bizarre. In Epidemiology, he's insistent that if only one of them survives, it should be Troy. He listens and supports him with the AC repair vs plumbing thing, and it is Troy who decides that he just wants to watch tv with him. When Troy goes to the AC repair school, Abed doesn't try to talk him out of it, even though he's devastated. He's upset when Troy and Britta get together, but he doesn't put that on Troy himself.

He listens to Troy about the impersonator thing, despite deep fears of being controlled, and honestly seems more concerned about their friendship than his own safety. He goes along with the body swap bit at a moment's notice, goes to a restaurant he previously said he couldn't go to, puts up with the waiter badmouthing one of his favourite movies, and breaks up with Britta for Troy. When he's so upset about Troy leaving that he hallucinates lava, he jumps into said lava in order to let him go.

And I especially hate when people, just like Laybourne, use the Inspector Spacetime thing to argue that their relationship is unequal. Like sorry, in other instances, Abed is more than willing to play the villain (Kickpuncher, Alien) or love interest (Kickpuncher) or sidekick (their shadow puppets) to Troy's hero. They do Bert and Ernie, who are equal partners. When they do Calvin and Hobbes, yes he's Calvin, but that's notably something only Troy has expressed an interest in him doing before.

Yeah Inspector Spacetime is a more frequent thing for them, but it's pretty clear that's a really special character for Abed. In Virtual Systems Analysis we can see him use the character to express how he's different from other people. Which, yeah, an autistic person connecting with what is essentially the Doctor...go figure.

Like, look at when he lists characters he thinks are like him: "Data or Johnny 5 or Mork or HAL or K.I.T.T. Or K9 or Woodstock and/or Snoopy. Spock goes without saying." None of those are human. Several robots. Most are not the main character. One is an antagonist. It's probably not often that Abed feels this deep a connection to a character who is undeniably the hero, and while not human, still shows human characteristics. And there's no way Troy is unaware of that.

And by the way, Troy never seems remotely unhappy about playing Constable Reggie until Laybourne talks him into it. And never again afterwards. In fact, when Abed is full on trying to act "normal" at Shirley's wedding rehearsal, Troy talks him into playing Inspector Spacetime...with this ridiculously tender look of love on his face.

It's just...it's a severe mischaracterisation of them both, articulated by a clearly manipulative character, and it bothers me when I see people fall for it.

#here's the essay #community #nbc community #troy barnes #abed nadir #trobed

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crow-raven-crow · 2 years ago

Note

Can you write a Larissa Weems OS where Reader was looking after a bunch of kids and when she wanted to talk to a misbehaving child they run away so she grabs them and sets them on a table to taln to the kid eye to eye the kud kicks against the bench before the table and it falls on the readers foot. Larissa comes in with the mom of the kids, because the mom is Larissa's friend Reader offered to watch the kids, to see Reader holding back tears and a quickly swelling foot takes her to the doctor and they find out the toe is broken and Larissa comforts the Reader (that is an actual thing that happened to me on monday and I'm craving some comfort from Larissa) but write it only if it's ok for you

𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧ Larissa Weems x f!reader words: ~2.4k

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: description of pain, broken bones, crying, emotional tightness (holding it in), rapid thoughts, FLUFF

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: see ask above

masterlist

AO3 link in title

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐚/𝐧: Hey Crimson! Ty for the ask - i think this is actually a really cute idea.

HOWEVER

I’m so sorry that happened to you! That seems crazy, and I hope that your recovery goes smoothly!

I had to ask my friends and one of them thats in the med program here about breaking bones - what it feels like, what you’d get afterwards, etc - because I’ve actually never broken a bone before (HEAVILY knocking on wood rn). I tried to do this justice - i did change it sliggghhhtttlllyyy BUT I hope you enjoy!

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

The rapid sounds of small, running footsteps and loud, excited screams filled your ears the closer you got to the little playground that was adjacent to the prestigious academy for outcasts. You had been a professor there for quite some time. Working with unique species and developing teenage brains every day surely gave you more tosses and turns than you expected to face when you had applied for the job some years ago, but you loved it regardless.

You pushed yourself to be someone for the students to feel comfortable reaching out towards and, in the process, created a home for yourself here with the help of the amazing principal (and now wife) Larissa Weems. You realized you fell hard for the woman after just a few months of working here - her captivating personality and kindness towards everyone made your heart swell after being enticed with the professional that could gain a rooms attention just by being present. Lucky, your company had given her butterflies as much as hers gave to you. You constantly helped each other get through the issues the growing minds threw at the both of you.. though, there was a part of you that always enjoyed the little ones.

In your spare time, you often found yourself at the daycare for outcasts that was right next to the school to give a helping hand. It was something that Larissa added when the population of outcasts grew larger. Being able to provide for this community was something you both held close to your heart, and there was a big part of you that was excited to have a child of your own. Seeing the little ones grow into their abilities was something you always found fascinating, but you always made sure to give them the most reassurance you could muster - the smaller ones often being confused and scared of something they didn’t understand quite yet.

You were lucky to find them at their playtime break outside. During this time of year, you always let out a soft chuckle when you saw the children wrapped in their winter coats and bundled up in their beanies and scarves their parents provided them - the puff of the fabrics making the children take up three times the space than they normally would. Seeing the little frosts or yeti children always concerned you at first glance in the winter - not needing such things due to their nature - but you soon got used to the sight the more you came here.

The main daycare teacher was standing next to the light post that lit the playground in a golden glow under the overcast sky. Her name was Olivia, and you’d grown closer to the younger woman the more you offered your help. She often stated how you were like an older sister to her - a thought that warmed your heart every time. She hugged her body close, the chill of the outside world going through her coat, and you couldn’t help but give a weak smile.

“Hey, Liv,” You said while wrapping your coat around the woman. “Is there anything I can help with today?”

“Y/N! Hi, thank you..” She tugged the thick coat closer to her body as she let out a shuddering breath. “We’re just staying warm, for now.. If you wanted, could you prepare some hot chocolate for when it’s time to head inside? I’m sure a lot of them will like the drink to warm up..”

You nodded and went to head into the building that stood behind her, but something caught your eye. A little lycan boy, who you immediately recognized as little Connor, was kicking and throwing wood chips in areas where other kids played. A small tsk left your mouth as you walked in his direction.

“Connnnoooorrrr?” You said with a playful lift in your voice. At the sound, he shot his gaze to you and screamed excitedly before bolting in a different direction. You decided it best to run after him, he was on a little mischievous streak after all.

“I got you, little one!” You boomed in a light tone. You didn’t want the kids to ever hold guilt for a situation but for them to understand what they were doing wrong, so you were always playful then serious when explaining, ensuring that they learned from their mistakes.

“Watch me make hot chocolate while we talk about why we don’t throw wood chips, hmm?” You picked him up as he agreed and wildly giggled, though a trouble maker, he was one of your favorites.

After helping him out of his coat, you settled him on the front table so you could look at each other at the same height. You didn’t want to intimidate him and wanted him to be honest with how he felt - it was the best move bringing him to your level.

You walked over to a cabinet to get some cups and chocolate mix. He watched your every move in genuine curiosity, your movements swift but not fast enough to disturb him. You walked back towards him, waiting for the liquid to warm before stopping in front of him.

“Now.. what do you think caused me to bring you in here, little wolf?” You watched him fidget slightly, refusing to answer for a moment. You took the moment to walk off and make him a cup of hot chocolate to warm up. While handing it to him, you spoke again.

“If I recall..” you started, offering him the small cup which he gladly accepted. “This is an issue we’ve had before, yes?”

“Yes, Ms.Weems,” he replied softly into his cup, his eyes moving to yours before his focus moved back to the drink.

“And what did we say the solution was, hmm?”

“If I want to do that with the wood chips then I should go off to the side where it won’t hit anyone..”

“That’s good, Connor. I’m glad you remembered that because we don’t want to have a repeat of-“

“But it wasn’t hitting anyone this time!! This time no one got hurt!!! Why can’t I keep doing it there!?!” The big outburst of energy from the small child caused a few things in close proximity to knock over with his quick feet and rapid moving arms. Some markers and a few plastic cups fell to the floor. The worst of it all was how his feet sent a chair down to the ground with a few large bangs that echoed throughout the room - the end of your foot breaking most of the fall…

The chair bounced off your foot and brought another wave of pain as it landed there again. At the first initial fall, a loud yelp left your lips as your eyes squeezed shut from the first wave of pain. You moved to catch yourself on a nearby desk as the chair settled itself on the floor. You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes before you could even process the severity of the situation.

Oh.. this certainly didn’t feel right.. You couldn’t bare to move your foot as an overwhelming warmth spread throughout your body - starting at the tip of your toes and quickly moving up to your head. Small waves of pain started there and made it hard to focus on anything else, making your body shudder as each one ran its course.

The sound of heels echoing down the hall registered in your mind, though the pain was so overwhelming that you didn’t give it your undivided attention or curiosity.

“It’s always so good to see you, Serenity. It’s lovely catching up with you. Let’s go ahead and grab little Connor, hmm? Right in here and- oh, y/n! Y/N?!” The beautiful accent filled your ears and eased the pain for what felt like seconds. Next thing you knew, the lovely woman was by your side softly rubbing your back. “My love, what happened?”

“Connor.. he-” you were cut off as another wave of pain vibrated through your body. She helped settle you on top of a desk and tried her best to get you to explain through the pain - every touch she gave was gentle and comforting, the love she held for you being transferred through her fingertips. Your throat burned as you attempted to get more words out, your breath running shorter by the second. “I-I don’t blame him- There.. was a little outburst but I understand why-”

Tears were now slipping from your eyes as the adrenaline slowly wore off - handing you the pain in tenfold as you held Larissa’s sleeves in a vice grip in attempt to ground yourself. Her eyes rapidly examined your face as she processed each of your words.

“Somethings broken..” You weakly managed to say, in between breaths.

Larissa, being the goddess she is, was able to handle the situation with a professional face - even if her insides were screaming at her to move and quickly get you to the hospital. She got the pair home and was able to update Olivia on the situation before helping you to the car. Her comfort never left you - a hand tracing patterns along your thigh and her angelic voice reminding you to breathe whenever your mind was too focused on the pain.

The trip to the hospital was a quick one - your wife becoming sick with worry after seeing you in so much pain caused her to make moves she wouldn’t normally make with a level head. By the time they had run all their tests and fully taken care of you, the sun had left the sky, causing the overcast atmosphere to run completely black.

Larissa walked into your room with an empathetic frown on her face. The sight of you in the hospital bed asleep with your foot elevated in a cast brought a spike of pain to her heart as she settled herself next to you. She brought your hand to her lips and kissed each of your knuckles.

“You really are something, Y/n..” She whispered, a small chuckle leaving her mouth.

You awoke a few moments later to a nice tingling feeling dancing patterns along your arm. As your eyes opened and took in the environment around you, your heart swelled as your eyes met captivating sapphire ones - you wife absentmindedly scratching along your forearm softly.

“Riss..?” You croaked out, your throat slightly dry form being out for so long. You attempted to sit up more, only to be met with a firm hand pushing you back down. You allowed the bed under you to capture your full weight as you watched your lovely wife grab a water bottle from beside her. She lifted it to your lips gently, waiting for you to drink, with her hand held out underneath to catch any water that would happen to slip from you.

“The doctor said we could go home whenever you woke, but I don’t want to leave here until you’re fully awake and ready, okay? One of your toes ended up breaking, so you’re going to have a cast for about four weeks, my love..” She brought the water down, after it seemed you had enough, as she answered all your unasked questions. “A crutch was given to you to refrain from putting too much weight on it.. and it’s advised to keep your foot elevated as much as you can..”

You threw your head back and let out a frustrated groan as the reality of the situation fully processed itself in your brain. “Can I go back to teaching though?” You asked, your voice laced with a bit of sadness because you didn’t want to set aside your passion for too long.

This caused the tall blonde to let out a loud laugh, you following in suit because you could never deny the bubbly feeling that rumbled in your chest every time you were able to make the sound come from your lover. She brought a hand up to stroke your cheek softly, your body naturally leaning into her touch.

“As your wife.. I’d appreciate if you took at least a few days off. As your boss, though.. I am making you take a few days off.” She said, laughing at her own comment. This was a little game she liked to play every so often and it never failed to make a smile grace your features. You loved how much she cared for you, and this little move was something you did to each other much more at the beginning of your relationship but said every now and then still.

After a while, you were ready to go home, ultimately just wanting to cuddle up with the sapphire beauty under some blankets and relish in each others company. Adjusting to the crutch was definately something that you would have to get used to, something your wife tried to hide her laugh at. The bruises from catching yourself so hard were making themselves known, after a while - something Larissa couldn’t help but notice.

Your determination brought you out of the room and far down the hall before you had to stop and allow your body to catch up. Just as you were about to start again, you felt two strong hands at your waist move to your upper back and your knees. Letting out a small yelp as you were lifted into the air, you looked back only to be met with your wife’s confident smirk being thrown back at you.

“Having some trouble?” She asked, the mirth laced in her tone caused you to let out a laugh.

“You know I had it.. but thank you, love..” You replied, nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck. With every breath you took, you inhaled more of her scent - the vanilla and rose making a warmth settle in your chest and a small blush sit on your cheeks. You truly would never grow tired of this.

“We can practice more as the weekend comes..” She said as you felt her strong strides make their way towards the outside of the hospital.

“I don’t know..” You said with a playful tone. “I could get used to this~ You could be my crutch,” you added with a giggle. The small comment made the blonde chuckle and look down at you. There was nothing but love and adoration in her eyes, and it never failed to give you butterflies.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek and kissed along her jaw to place an ending one on her lips, appreciating the light lipstick stains they left in their tracks. You settled back into the crook of her neck as exhaustion from the day was finally catching up to you.

“I love you, Riss.” You said as your eyes fluttered shut softly.

“I love you too, my darling girl.. Now, lets get you home.”

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𝐚/𝐧: hi everyone :)

I haven't been on my socials as much because I just finished my first week back at college (YAY FOUR DAY WEEKEND - i have no friday classes cuz my schedule worked out) so I'm still slightly adjusting

BUT!

I spend some of my free time trying to write so when I saw this ask I was ONE honored !! like guys this is my first ask this was so cute ! I hope you guys liked it ! and TWO i started on it right when I saw it. It's nice to get a little break form my other writing to get some more creativity flowing

I'll be on here and my other socials more on weekends since I don't have classes, but since this is a passion it won't be strictly weekends lmao. ill be floating arounnnnnndddd

I hope you enjoyed this one! I'll be changing my page around a bit after I post this so it's on my pinned :)

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐯𝐲𝐧

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)

@eveymay

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa x reader #principal larissa weems #principal larissa weems x reader #principal weems x reader #principal weems #one shot #crowravencrow

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sequinsmile-x · 7 months ago

Text

Instincts - The Third Time

Five times Emily doesn't yell at her mother-in-law, and one time she does.

Part 3/6

-x-

Hi friends <3

I am so pleased you guys are enjoying this fic so far, it means the world to me!!

(Also - there is a 911 reference in this...if you spot if we're immediately friends i don't make the rules!)

As always, please let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: Full list of tags can be found on the Master List

Words: 3.7k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The third time, Aaron yells at Caroline on her behalf, so Emily tells herself it doesn’t count.

She regrets inviting Caroline to go wedding dress shopping with her almost immediately. It’s a spur of the moment thing, half a conversation she overhears over the phone between Aaron and his mother where she can tell she’s trying to make him feel guilty for her not being involved in their, already very simple, wedding plans. She says it before she can truly think it through, waving off Aaron’s furrowed brow and his concern when he covers the phone's receiver with his hand as Caroline continues to talk at him as he asks her if she’s sure. It was only afterwards, when Caroline had the date and time of the booking at the bridal shop, and after her flights had been booked, it occurred to Emily that it would be the first time she and Aaron’s mothers would meet.

Aaron, to his credit, had tried to organise dinner beforehand so he could at least provide moral support during the initial meeting, but due to Elizabeth’s schedule, it hadn’t been possible. Which meant Emily had been left to introduce them to each other in one of DC’s most exclusive bridal stores, the tension in the air almost as palpable as the floral scent the owner clearly had pumped into the store to keep it within it’s theme.

It was exactly what she knew it would be like. Passive aggressive comments batted back and forth between them, like an expert game of tennis, only in the end it would be Emily who was caught in the crossfire every single time. Caroline and Elizabeth had wildly different ideas about what dresses she should try on - both somehow not in line with what she wanted at all - and to keep the peace she tried on dresses they both suggested. She’d spent most of the appointment catching JJ or Penelope’s eyes with for the love of god help me painted across her face with each comment either her mother or Aaron’s made about a dress the other had picked out. Her friends would try to help, they really would, but they’d be easily shut down by one of the older women and would then throw Emily an apologetic look and take a sip of their champagne.

At least those cowards could drink champagne.

She looks at herself in the bathroom mirror, grateful everyone had accepted her excuse for needing to call Aaron to check on how he and Jack were doing whilst picking out their suits so she could just have a few minutes to herself. She blows out a breath, and her hand drifts to her lower stomach, her thumb fluttering just below her belly button, her skin unchanged yet despite the life-changing thing that was growing beneath it.

Apart from her and Aaron, there were precisely two people who knew she was pregnant. The first was her doctor who had confirmed her pregnancy and performed the first ultrasound, the baby no more than a tiny fleck on the screen when they’d seen it a few days ago. The second was Allegra - the woman looking after them in the bridal shop who had simply smiled when Emily informed her quietly when she arrived before everyone else, and had taken great care to serve her sparkling cider alongside everyone else's champagne so no one would catch on.

There were moments when she couldn’t quite believe that all of this was real. That she’d found love in a man who’d been right in front of her all along, the feelings she’d stuffed down into the deepest parts of her chest for years not only free but reciprocated. That she was only a couple of months away from marrying him. That she was having another kid with him, a tiny dot of a thing safely tucked up in her belly who would make Jack an older brother and who would call her mom, a title that until not too long ago, until Jack started saying it more and more, she thought she’d never get to bear.

She looks up as the door to the bathroom opens, and Elizabeth walks in, her smile coy and her eyebrow raised.

“I thought I’d find you in here.”

“Mom,” Emily sighs and leans forward on the counter in front of her, worried if she turned around too quickly she’d disturb the vague settled feeling in her stomach and throw up all over her mother, “I just needed a minute.”

Elizabeth throws her hands up before clasping them in front of herself, “Why do you think I'm in here, Emily? Caroline asked that Allegra girl to bring in another puffy monstrosity and I had to leave so I didn’t say something,” she shakes her head, “That woman is insufferable.”

Emily chuckles, shaking her head as she catches her mother’s eyes in the bathroom mirror, “Mom, she’s going to be my mother-in-law in a couple of months.”

“Whilst that’s true it doesn’t make me any less correct,” Elizabeth says, crossing her arms over her chest, “She’s had something to say about every dress I picked out for you. She’s so judgemental,” she says, and Emily laughs before she can stop herself, her irritation and the constant nausea rolling in her belly unravelling her usual control over her reactions. Elizabeth scoffs, “When have I ever been judgemental?”

It’s Emily’s turn to raise her eyebrow and she turns to look at her, “Would you like your examples chronologically, or in order of importance?”

Elizabeth clicks her tongue, “I’ve never been that bad,” she says, ignoring her own misgivings in a way Emily is sure must be purposeful, because if there was one thing Elizabeth Prentiss was not it was stupid.

“Well we can agree to disagree on that one,” Emily says, swallowing thickly when a wave of her mother’s perfume catches in the air, the smell of Chanel No. 5 something she’d long equated with passive aggressiveness and judgement, something that would make her stomach roll as her mind and body prepared itself for whatever her mother had deemed she’d done wrong. A defence mechanism she’d learnt long before she knew not everyone had that reaction just at the familiar smell of their mom walking into the room. This time, it makes her stomach roll for entirely different reasons. The ever-present nausea that had convinced her to take a pregnancy test in the first place making itself known. The delicate, but robust, notes of rose and jasmine in the confined bathroom making her have no other choice but to clamp her hand over her mouth and run into one of the cubicles.

It was times like this she missed Aaron more than she usually did when he wasn’t around. When her morning sickness took over he was always there. He’d pull her hair into a loose ponytail for her and rub her back until she was done before he’d pull a can of ginger beer out of seemingly nowhere, she never remembered him leaving the room, and he’d sit with her on the bathroom floor until she felt like she could move.

This time, she has to deal with her mother’s protests from the other side of the closed, but unlocked, stall door. Her voice as high as Emily thinks she’s heard it in a while as she demands to know what's wrong. Once Emily is done, grimacing as she spits into the toilet and then flushes it, she gives herself a moment to blow out a breath, knowing Elizabeth wouldn’t let this go with no explanation. She rolls her neck side to side and then rolls her shoulders, blowing out another slow breath before she steps back out of the stall and smiles at her mother like she hadn’t just heard her throwing up.

“Emily, what’s wrong?”

She clears her throat, “Nothing.”

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow at her, “I think we were both too old for this when you were 20 and pretending you weren’t hungover. We’re definitely both too old for this now. Is it the champagne? I did think it tasted a little-”

“It’s not the champagne,” she says, cutting over her mother before she could complain that the freshly opened bottle of Dom Pérignon they’d watched Allegra open for them wasn’t up to scratch. She sighs and crosses her arms over her chest, her jaw tight as she presses her lips together, “You have to promise not to say anything.”

“Emily, really-”

“You have to promise,” she says, begging her in a way she hadn’t since she was young and wanted nothing more than her mother’s attention.

Elizabeth relents, sighing as she nods, “Fine. I promise.”

Emily couldn’t help but wonder what this moment would be like if their relationship was different. If Elizabeth would have naturally been one of the first people she’d want to tell instead of this just happening because of circumstance. If in another life, where they had the relationship she so knew she’d have with her children, she’d have told her she thought she might be pregnant before it was even confirmed.

“I’m pregnant.”

They fall into silence for a moment, and she sees a flash of something in her mother’s eyes, something she doesn’t want to call pride at the risk of hurting her own feelings, “You’re…pregnant?”

She nods, “Yeah. I’m only 6, nearly 7, weeks along. So no one knows. And I wasn’t even going to tell you yet but…” she vaguely gestures towards the stall she’d thrown up in and then looks at her mother, a ghost of a smile on her face and that same look in her eyes. The silence makes worry creep up her neck and she clears her throat, trying to push away the nerves that were threatening to make her sick again, “Why do you think I keep pushing for an empire waistline?” she says, her laugh sounding weak to her ears, “I want whatever I pick to still fit in two months when we get married.”

Elizabeth nods, finally finding her voice, “And no one else knows?”

“Just Aaron and my doctor,” Emily says, scrunching her nose up as she nods towards the door that leads out to the rest of the store, “And Allegra. She’s brought me so much sparkling cider I could have swam in it,” she swallows thickly and shudders, the thought of drinking any more enough to make her throw up again, “And I’ve got to say, it does not taste great when it comes back up the other way.”

Elizabeth smiles at her, the edges of it blurred with a fondness that was achingly rare, “I remember those days. When I was having you I was unwell most of those first few months. Anything minty helped me. Might be worth a try.”

Emily nods, her smile slipping away as she grimaces, “Speaking of something minty, do you have any gum or anything? My breath is going to suck.”

Elizabeth looks affronted at the idea, “When have you ever known me to carry gum, Emily?” She says, raising her eyebrow before she starts to dig through her purse, “I do have some Altoids.”

She gratefully takes the tin from her mother and grabs a couple of the mints, groaning in happiness when the nausea seems to immediately go away the moment she pops them into her mouth. She makes a mental note to ask Aaron to fill the pantry with the things the next time he goes grocery shopping, not caring in the slightest if her reaction was psychosomatic or not.

“Thank you,” she says, handing the tin back over to her mother, smiling when she shakes her head and clasps her hand around hers, the tin of mints curled in her fist.

“You keep them,” Elizabeth replies, “I hope they help.” It was just a tin of mints, something worth only a few dollars that she doubts her mother even bought herself, grocery shopping one of the many household chores she had someone else do for her, but Emily thinks it might be her favourite thing Elizabeth had ever given her. The press of her skin against hers and the look in her eyes worth more than all the fancy dresses and beautiful jewelry she’d had her assistants pick out for Emily’s birthdays over the years. “I’m so happy for you and Aaron, Emily,” she says, squeezing her hand again, “This is…you deserve this.”

Emily smiles before she presses her lips together, trying to contain the shake in them, “Thanks, Mom,” she places her hand over her mother’s and squeezes once before they let go, “And you won’t-”

“Your secret is safe with me,” she assures her, “Knowing you’re going to make me a grandmother again is more than enough for me for now.”

Emily hums, “That, and the fact you get to know and Caroline doesn’t.”

Elizabeth comes the closest to smirking Emily thinks she’s ever seen, “That certainly doesn’t hurt.”

___

Despite all the irritations that come with the day, Emily is delighted that by the time they leave the store, she’d chosen a wedding dress. It’s simple and beautiful, and exactly what she had imagined herself marrying Aaron in.

Caroline had commented it was a little too simple, something Elizabeth had shut down by simply buying it before she could say anything else, but everyone else had loved it. The tears blurring Emily’s view of her reflection in the mirror in front of her also shining in the eyes of her friends as they watched her. When they get home, she tells Aaron they got the dress, and she starts to quietly tease him about it, her lips against his as Jack keeps Caroline entertained in the living room. They all have dinner together, and Emily puts Jack to bed at his request, his smile soft and sleepy as he whispered Love you, Mom, as he falls asleep.

Emily yawns as she walks downstairs, her exhaustion catching up with her, and she wonders when she can feasibly start trying to hint that Caroline should start to head back to her friend’s house where she was staying whilst she was in town. She walks back into the living room and smiles softly when she sees Aaron and Caroline sitting next to each other and looking at Caroline’s phone, Aaron’s smile soft and loving, a look in his eyes that Emily knew meant that whatever they were looking at had something to do with her or Jack.

“He’s asleep,” she says, smiling at Aaron when he looks up at her, catching her lips when she leans in to kiss him before sitting on his other side, “He told me all about the suits you vetoed.”

Aaron chuckles, “I didn’t think you’d appreciate us showing up in white. Or red.”

She laughs, “Well, my mother certainly wouldn’t have,” she says, “What are you two looking at?”

“Mom was just showing me some of the dresses you tried on.”

Emily furrows her brow and looks over Aaron’s shoulder, her breath catching in her chest as she not only sees one of the dresses she’d tried on, but the dress. Her beautiful, simple, perfect dress.

“Caroline,” she breathes out, Aaron’s shoulders immediately tensing at her tone, aware something is wrong in a moment, “Thats…when did you take that picture?”

“You were speaking to your friends and I knew I had to capture it,” she says, smiling as she looks at the picture again, “It’s not every day your soon to be daughter in law picks the dress she’s going to marry your son in.”

Aaron looks at his mother so quickly Emily is sure it must hurt his neck, “That’s the dress she chose?” He asks, his tone so indignant Emily doesn’t care that they are talking like she isn’t in the room, all of her focus instead on not bursting into tears over a fucking dress, “Why would you show me a picture of that dress? I’m not meant to see it until the day.”

Caroline locks her phone and shrugs, “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it was important.”

Aaron scoffs, his hand seeking out Emily’s knee to squeeze it, providing silent support as her body gets tenser and tenser next to him, “How could you not realise it’s important, Mom? If it wasn’t, I would have been there today.”

“Well you already live together,” she says, attempting to defend herself, “And I’m under no illusions you don’t have sex. I didn’t realise this particular tradition mattered when the others apparently don’t.”

Emily chokes on a sound between a sob and a scoff and she stands up so quickly her head spins, her nails briefly digging into Aaron’s shoulder, “Excuse me, I need to…” she swallows thickly, pushing down every expletive that is threatening to break free, “I need to go lay down.”

She’s out of the room before she can say anything else, and she almost turns back when Caroline laments that she now feels like the bad guy for a simple mistake, but Aaron stops her by telling his mother off on her behalf. His insistence that she must have known what she was doing, but that he didn’t know what the motivation could be other than upsetting Emily following her and fading off as she walks up the stairs to find solace in between their sheets. She vaguely hears their arguing, neither of their voices raised loud enough to wake Jack or for her to hear what they were saying, and then she hears the front door open and close in quick succession.

She isn’t upstairs by herself for very long, curled up in their bed with his pillow gathered against her chest with one hand as she furiously wipes tears away from her cheeks with the other. He looks sad when he walks into their bedroom, his hands in his pockets as he somehow looks physically smaller than he had when she left them downstairs, as if the mere act of arguing with his mother had cut him off at his knees and left him as the teenage boy who he’d once been.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart,” he says as he sits on the bed next to her, his hand on her waist, his thumb and finger grazing her hipbone and ribcage as he squeezes her soft skin, “She didn’t….” he shakes his head, residual anger sinking into the lines on his face, “I had no idea that’s what she was showing me.”

“I know you didn’t,” she assures him, sniffing in a failed attempt to hide her tears, “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says, her face collapsing into a sob she feels ridiculous for as she covers her mouth with her hand, “Damn it.”

“Oh, Em, baby,” he says, laying down next to her and tugging his pillow from her arms so he can hold her close, both of his arms around her as he tucks her against his chest, “I’m so sorry she did that.”

She nods against him, “I don’t know why I’m crying, it’s just a dress,” she says, tears still streaming down her cheeks despite herself, “Your kid is ruining me.”

He smiles sadly and shakes his head, the hand not rubbing soothing circles on her back catching tears on her cheeks, “It isn’t just a dress. It’s your wedding dress. And you’re allowed to be sad and upset about this. I just…” he shakes his head and clenches his jaw, “I don’t know why she would have done that other than to be spiteful.”

“It might be because my mom paid for it to stop her complaining about it being too simple,” she says, shrugging one of her shoulders, “Mom also refused to let me pay her back by the way.”

“I’ll talk to Mom once I’ve calmed down a little,” he says, resting his cheek on top of her head, “Make it clear that this wasn’t acceptable.”

“I…I could pick another dress,” she says, the thought alone after finding something she loved more devastating than she thinks it should be, “If you want to be surprised on the day.”

He pulls back to look at her and sees the genuine offer in her eyes, how she’d really return the dress she’d fallen in love with just so he’d be surprised on their wedding day, so he decides to do the one thing he promised he’d never do - something they both know he’s doing the moment he starts.

He lies to her.

“I barely got a look at it,” he says, his lips pressed together in a firm line, “I’ve already forgotten what it looks like,” he kisses her forehead, and then the tip of her nose, a smile flickering across her face causing one to flash across his, “I remember white…and that’s about it.”

She shakes her head at him, familiar, all consuming love threatening to overwhelm her at the obvious lie. His attention to detail was second to none. She knew he remembered every detail of it, every fold of the silky material as it lay against her body, that he remembered the smile on her face as she looked at herself in the mirror, and she also knew that she couldn’t be mad at him even if she wanted to be.

“Really?” She asks, leaning into his palm as he wipes another stray tear from her cheek.

“Really,” he confirms, stamping his lips against hers, “So, I’ll still be surprised on the day.”

She sinks her teeth into her lower lip and cups his cheek, pulling him in so she can kiss him, “Well in that case,” she murmurs, only pulling back just far enough to speak, “I might as well keep it.”

He nods, resting his forehead against hers, “You might as well.”

She tucks herself against his chest, letting him wrap himself around her as she tangles herself with him, allowing herself the physical closeness she knows her pregnancy will slowly take from them over the next several months. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

He hides a smile against the top of her head and kisses her hairline, “I can’t wait to marry you either.”

Whether his lie was obvious or not, he still cries when he sees her walk down the makeshift aisle in Dave’s backyard a couple of months later, and she can’t bring herself to care about what Caroline had tried to do.

#aaron hotchner #hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss #aaron x emily #hotchniss fan fic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss

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ladylooch · 1 year ago

Text

The Spiral [Lio Meier] - Part 4

A/N: One more part after this! things are starting to turn around for our Lio 🤭

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: allergic reaction, lots of medical talk, angst, childhood trauma themes

ICYMI Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The morning after his concussion, Lio thinks it would have been better to have been crushed by a garbage truck. His head hurts so bad, worse than any hangover headache or migraine he’s had in his life. But worse than that is the fog that has settled into his brain. Details of last night are fuzzy- the game, Lucie, their conversation. He thinks things are better, but is worried about facing her this morning.

He rolls over to his back, tentatively opening his eyes. The world doesn’t swirl like it had been last night. But he feels like the front of his forehead is going to explode off from the pressure. Is that normal? Fuck.

Slowly, Lio adjusts his position to sit up. The smell of something baking hits his nose. He smiles. Lucie is still here. It takes awhile before Lio can get out of bed, changed, and hit the bathroom. By the time he is done with that, he feels like he could go back to sleep. Instead, he drags himself towards the kitchen. Lucie is at the stove, a large stack of pancakes to her left. As he gets closer, he can see the rainbow sprinkles poking out of the cakes.

“Lucie pancakes.” He chuckles, approaching her.

“They still hit even as an adult.” She shrugs.

“Doesn’t Stell think these are her creation?”

“Yeah because of her dad.” Lucie rolls her eyes. “Connor thinks she created everything, even though I made these all the time when I was pregnant with her.”

“So he thinks because she was there, she made them?”

“He thinks she created the craving for me, so it’s from her.”

“Your mom could set that straight.”

“Mmm, I don’t think anyone can set that man straight about his sweet girl.” Lucie takes off two more pancakes. “Sit down and eat. You look awful.”

“Thanks.” Lio mumbles, resting his head delicately in his palm. He sets his elbow on the counter watching as Lucie slaps two pancakes on his plate. “Still hate syrup?”

“Yep.” Lio confirms, picking up his fork to cut into a pancake.

“I heard from Ben. He wanted you to check in when you got up.” Lio nods, grabbing his phone.

While he eats small bites, him and Ben talk about how Lio is feeling. Ben is concerned about the intensity of Lio’s headache. He wants him to go to the hospital for a CT scan.

“Can you send a car? Lucie needs to go home to her family.”

“No, I can take you.” She says, waving away his worries. “Con is taking Stell to the rink for practice. She is loving her mommy-free life right now.” Ben and Lio chat more. The team doctor is going to meet them at the hospital and they will know more after the imaging is processed.

Lucie and Lio finish breakfast, then head into Newark. Lucie waits while Lio is being scanned and afterwards while they wait for the radiologist to do a quick read. Everything looks good. Lio’s brain isn’t showing any damage, but he does have one hell of a concussion. The news is good. Lio feels like he can breathe and be more at peace with where he is at.

“You’re going to have to take it easy.” The doctor reminds him. “At least two weeks before you do any exercise.” Lio agrees. He can’t imagine getting on the ice right now with how shitty he feels.

“Is it okay if I drop you off and head out?” Lucie asks Lio when they are back in the car. “Connor is going to the Children’s Hospital to see some of his kiddos. I need to get home before he leaves again.”

“Yeah, I will be fine. Thank you for staying with me. And.. um tell Connor thanks too. I appreciate it. Know he isn’t my biggest fan.”

Lucie drops Lio in front of his building, then heads back towards her city. Lio’s doorman greets him warmly, opening the big door for him.

“Thanks, Charlie.”

“Tough one last night, Mr. Meier.”

“Hey, boys pulled out the win tho.” Lio waves as he walks through.

“Your mama is waiting for you in your apartment. She was mighty frazzled this morning.” Lio stops in his tracks. There are two people who have unlimited access to his apartment besides him. One just dropped him off. The other lives in Switzerland.

“Ah, thanks. Moms…” Lio trails off with a shrug.

Lio seriously contemplates sprinting out of his building. Doctor’s orders be damned. The only woman to ever love him unconditionally is upstairs and he is not ready to face her. Not ready to see her after the horrible things he said to her. Not ready to face his own shame and self-hatred. It’s why he left Switzerland without seeing her even after telling his dad he wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t deserve her or her love.

But she is here. Already. He knows how many hoops she must have jumped through to get to him. He senses his dad’s involvement as well. The strings Timo Meier would have pulled for her are unlimited. So Lio Meier gets into the elevator and rises the 6 floors to his awaiting fate. Outside his apartment door, he takes a deep breath, then puts his key in the lock. He pushes the door open, not seeing her on the couch like he expected.

“Mama?” He calls into the apartment.

“Lee?” He hears her call from deep inside. She comes rushing out of his room. With zero hesitation, she grabs him and wraps him into her body for a hug. “Oh” She sighs, holding his head against hers. She sucks in a deep breath then lets out a relieved sigh at having him close to her. “Are you okay?” Her brown eyes are deeply pained. Lio closes his eyes, unable to see more.

“Um, well, I guess but also no. What are you doing?”

“Your laundry.”

“Of course.” He chuckles, shaking his head. He has been grown for awhile, but she still insists on taking care of him. It makes Lio less worried for whatever is to come.

“Well, I was very anxious waiting for you. I had to do something.” She insists, waving a hand in front of her face. “Now, go sit down. I have lemon water, hot oatmeal and toast ready for you.” She gently guides him forward. “And vitamins. You need extra nutrients to get better.”

“Mama.” Lio sighs when she turns to head back to the kitchen. He feels like such a piece of shit with how she is jumping right in to take care of him. The undeserving suffocates him, tightening his throat until he struggles to breathe. “Don’t do this.” He finally chokes out. “Don’t double down and love me harder right now.”

“Lee.” Emma comes back to him, putting her hands on his cheeks. She kisses his forehead, right over where his head aches so badly. “I am never going to stop loving you hard or taking care of you. I’m your mother.” She runs her fingers through his hair, then moves back into the kitchen. His blue eyes follow her.

“Is dad here?”

“Yes, of course. Boys are with Uncle Neeks and Auntie Lex, but Livy is coming this weekend.”

“You both didn’t have to come and Liv needs to stay in California. She has school.”

“Mmm, but we did.” Emma looks over her shoulder at him. “We needed to see that you were going to be okay.”

“Dad isn’t here now?” Lio looks down the hall towards his bedroom.

“No, we felt like it’s you and I that need to talk. Not the three of us.” Lio looks away. “Don’t be mad at daddy. It was me. He didn’t want to do it.” Lio’s blue eyes find her again in the kitchen.

“You don’t get to tell me to not be mad at him.” He whispers.

“Probably not. But I love your dad very much and if I can save him from your wrath, I want to.”

Lio goes to the couch, sitting down, laying his head back on the top. He is exhausted from his morning. He feels the air of his mom coming around the couch. She puts her hand on his forehead, smoothing the wrinkle of distress there.

“What’s the news?”

“Concussion.” Lio mumbles.

“Is your brain okay?”

“Yes.” Emma sighs in obvious relief. Her hand drops to his shoulder. She strokes her hand there, quietly contemplating where to go next. When Lio opens his eyes, she begins.

“Lio, daddy and I love you more than I even know how to say. I never thought I would have to find words to express how much and I’m deeply sorry that you’ve been so hurt.” She sighs, running her hand through her hair, then looking out the floor to ceiling windows to the city. His apartment is only a few blocks from where her and Timo lived when she was pregnant with Lio. That feels like so long ago, but she tries to go back to who she was then to give Lio more insight into their life.

“I was the one who wanted to fudge your story. I know daddy told you that this summer, but he doesn’t know all of the things that went into that. You and I had experiences when you were a baby that made me feel very protective of you. People judged. They were horrible and social media made our life so accessible, even as Daddy and I tried to hide you. But this was never because we were ashamed or didn’t love you.” Disgust and substantial disagreement scrunches Emma’s nose. “It was the exact opposite.” Emma puts her hands on her cheeks for a moment, then continues.

“When you were 10 months old, the Devils were playing in the Eastern Conference finals. Daddy was hurt. He was playing through it as he always does, so he wasn’t performing very well. People were upset.” Lio watches his mom become increasingly uncomfortable. “You and I were out at a store after the Devils went down in the series. There was an incident in public where someone came up to you, a little baby, and called you that name…” Emma closes her eyes. “They went on to literally blamed the entire playoff situation on the fact that you were born out of wedlock. Daddy’s play as well. We were being punished for our sin of having you.”

Lio can see how much this still hurts his mom decades later.

“I’m sorry, mom.” He says sincerely.

“That person got to me.” Emma shakes her head. “I felt you deserved a better story. A more picture perfect story because of how much joy and purpose you brought to our lives. I..” She sighs. “I felt like we ruined your childhood before it had even really begun. I tried to fix it the way I knew how. Instead I hurt you.”

“But Lio, please know, I have loved you since the moment I knew of you even when I was crying on a bathroom floor. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to figure it out for you. When I got up off that tile, whatever decision daddy wanted wasn’t going to shake my decision. You were coming because I wanted you. It would be me and you against the world.” Emma stops, looking at him, then she chuckles. “But daddy wasn’t going anywhere. He was all in. He loved us so much. You’ve seen the videos from when I was pregnant with you. Nothing about that was forced.”

Lio remembers the one of his dad laughing hard as a three week old Lio tried to latch onto Timo’s big chest. The pictures of him on the ice at The Rock for the first time in skates that looked massive on his feet. Tons of videos of Lio and Timo napping together the year of the Devils first cup run. He looks across his apartment at a picture of his parents and him with the cup. It was only Lio and them at that time. Well, his mom was pregnant with Livy, but they barely knew that. Although the most difficult to win trophy in sports is right there, his dad’s hands are on a young Lio, engulfing him and his mom in his sweaty equipment.

“It felt like a lie.” Lio hears himself say. He gestures to the picture. Emma follows his gaze. “Like it looked like that. But then you and dad would make a comment about wanting me so bad you couldn’t wait and my whole life felt like a lie.” Emma swallows hard, nodding.

“I see that now, Lee. I’m very sorry. But that was real. That was our life, baby.” She reaches for his hand.

“It hurt me.” He whispers. Emma winces, then runs her hand up his arm to squeeze his shoulder.

“I know. I am so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” Emma purses her lips together, then looks at Lio with tears in her eyes. She brushes her thumb over the hairs behind his ear. “So loved. So wanted. Never a mistake.” Lio nods, then reaches to hug her. They hold one another tightly.

“Love you, mama.” Lio inhales heavily. “I can see how you wanted to protect me.”

“I love you, Lee. So much sweet boy.” When they pull apart, Emma stands to grab Lio more water, then comes back to the couch.

“She wasn’t even pregnant.” Lio confesses. “False positive.”

“Oh.” Emma blinks. This is the first time she is hearing this. “How does that make you feel?”

“Relieved.” Lio answers honestly. “More than any of the other reasons I said this summer… I just don’t want kids, mama.” Emma nods. She has suspected so for awhile.

“It’s your life. You get to decide. But you need to be more careful because at some point, it becomes not your choice.”

“Kay, pot.” Lio jokes with a light-hearted smirk. Emma tisks, chuckling and smacking Lio’s leg.

“Don’t slut shame your mother. You didn’t see how good James Bond looked that night.”

- - -

A brisk and skin drying wind has picked up on the East coast in the middle of November. Old man winter is roaring its way to the East coast with a winter storm warning in effect beginning tomorrow. With the impending weather, things are sure to get dicey in the booming metropolis of New York City. Despite the lingering effects of his concussion agitating him today, Lio is currently being dragged from room to room in the Bubble Planet by Stella Wood.

“This way! This way!” She yells, struggling to pull his heavy weight with her little body.

“Stell, I’m coming. Just chill.” He laughs.

“She doesn’t know that word. She’s three.” Lucie jokes back to him.

They weave through room after room, each one more exciting than the last. Stella is having the time of her life, especially when she is on Lio’s shoulders, getting to touch the bubbles falling from the ceiling.

“Mama, this is the best day! I wish daddy could come!” Lucie and Lio avoid looking at each other, just like they avoid the giant elephant that is Connor Wood between them.

Although Lucie and Connor have discussed more about what happened this summer, he is not ready to move on. It got particularly heated when Lucie asked if Stella could see Lio. Connor questioned Lucie’s motives, worried about the implications and confusion Stella would have about Connor not being there. These were fair and valid points, but her inquisitiveness hurt less than her tears about missing Lio.

“Baby, you do what you need to do, but I’m not interested in spending time with him or fixing this. I’ve made concessions along the way. This is where I am at. Stell stays here with me.”

Lucie respected that. She dropped it completely. But suddenly the next morning, Connor had given her quiet permission for her to bring Stella to breakfast with Lio. That was a month ago. Connor heads to the rink on days when his girls are meeting up with Lio, always having an excuse about training or treatment or nutrition. Lucie kisses him extra hard on those days, wanting him to know she loves him deeply and understands so much of this is difficult for them.

Now, as she watches Stella up on Lio’s shoulders, all she can fathom is the immense hole Connor’s absence brings.

“Baby, are you getting hungry?” Lucie asks her daughter as they bop out onto the New York avenue.

“Yeah.”

“What do you want?”

“Mac and cheese!”

“You had that for dinner last night.” Lucie laughs.

“She is a good Swiss girl!” Lio nods approvingly.

“Her favorite is Kraft.” Lucie points out.

��We’ll work on it. She’s three, ya know.” He jostles Lucie’s shoulder, then immediately regrets it at the way the world swirls upright for a minute. “Oof.” He rubs at his temples.

“Careful, Lee. No setbacks.” Lucie cautions, gripping his shoulder.

The three of them head a few blocks down to a diner, settling into a red booth with huge, plastic menus and a coloring page for Stella. Lio sits on her side of the booth, taking turns coloring a troll in a field of daisy.

“Not pink!” Stella scrunches her nose, pushing Lio’s hand away.

“What? You said I could pick any color.”

“Yeah, any one but pink.”

“You love pink?”

“When I was two.”

Lucie and Lio both snort, attempting to pursue their lips to keep their laughter in. Stella Wood is an absolute hoot.

“Can I share a milkshake with you?” Lucia asks Lio.

“I was gonna share with Stell.”

“Oh, I see how it is.” She raises her eyebrows then looks away with a smirk at her menu. She decides on a simple Strawberry shake. “Stell, do you want to share with uncle Lee?”

“Yeah.”

“Which flavor?”

“Reese’s! His favorite!”

“No, you can’t have those, baby. You’re allergic to peanuts.”

“No peanuts in there?”

“Yes, there is peanut butter.” Lucie calmly reminds her.

“Sorry, Uncle Lee. I get sick.” She pats her little pot belly.

“It’s okay. I was thinking chocolate.”

“Oh yes.” The little girl sighs happily.

The waitress comes and takes their orders. The adults grab cheeseburgers with fries while Stella happily exclaims she needs Mac and Cheese. The waitress practically swoons out of her Keds at how sweetly Stella thanks her for going to get their food. More coloring is done and a quick few games of hangman using three letter words like cat and dog and hat. Stella is getting so good at her ABCs. The milkshakes come out first. Stella watches in awe as the shake is split between two cups for her and her uncle.

“You gonna be able to finish that?” Lio asks.

“Mhm.” Stella nods enthusiastically. With one hand she grabs the glass while the other helps her balance on the table top. She sucks up the milkshake quickly, then sputters, coughing.

“Oh, that was a big sip. It’s cold, huh?” Lucie chuckles, handing Stella her water glass. She holds it up to the little girl’s lips for a sip.

“Ah!” She exclaims. “Mmmm.” She sucks up more of the thick liquid. Lio and Lucie chuckle, watching Stella enjoy her ice cream. Lio leans back farther in the booth, looking across the table at his cousin.

“I’ve had so much fun with you today. I missed this.”

“Me too.” Lucie murmur. Stella coughs again, loudly, then seems to gag. Stella sits up straighter, looking Lucie in the eyes with wide orbs. “Are you okay, baby?” Lucie straightens. Lio sits up as well, reaching out for Stella. She makes a wheezing noise, then sticks her tongue out.

“Oh my god. Stell?” Lucie covers her mouth, watching a red, angry rash begin to form on Stella’s face. Lio grabs Stella as she begins to sway backward.

“She is very warm.”

“What is going on?” Lucie whispers, she looks around the table then she smells it, the faintest whiff of peanut butter coming from the ice cream in the glass Stella was drinking. “Oh my god. Peanut butter.” She reaches for her purse, fumbling around. “Um.. ohmygod.”

“Do you have an Epipen?”

“Um.” She nods vigorously, beginning to pant herself. Her stomach tightens, fear dashes down her spine. She rips her hands through the contents of her purse, looking for the injection she always carries with her since the first reaction Stella had a few months ago in Switzerland. But it wasn’t like this. It was nothing close to this.

“Luc, come on.” Lio calls to his cousin, picking up Stella into his arms. “You’re okay, baby. It’s okay!” He tries for a cheery voice as Stella being to sob. “Luc, dump the purse out.” Lucie picks the bag up, emptying it from the handles. Lio sees the EpiPen immediately, tossing the cap off hastily. He does the injection, pausing to watch Stella’s reaction. Her wheezing gets tighter, but she can no longer speak to him or even cry. Lio’s heart is racing in his chest as he watches her struggle.

“Do you have another one?”

“No! It’s with Connor at home.” She shakes her head frantically. “Oh my god. Someone call an ambulance!” Lucie sobs out to the restaurant. In the haste of dumping her purse out, her phone fell underneath the booth. But she is frozen in paralysis. She can’t move. She can’t breathe. She is forced to watch her baby struggle.

Adrenaline takes over Lio like he was injected with the epinephrine. He calculates out where they are in the city, the amount of time it will take for an ambulance to get there and he knows Stella’s chances of making it are slim with how much she is struggling even after her first injection. He has seen this before with a kid in school when they still lived in Jersey.

“There isn’t time for the ambulance. I’m taking her to Children’s.” The hospital is at the end of the three blocks they walked from Bubble Planet, close to Lucie’s car. Lio secures Stella to his chest and begins to run from the restaurant. He leaves Lucie at the table to scramble her things back into her bag. He runs as fast as his body will go. Stella jostles against his shoulder, going limper and limper and Lio quite literally races against time.

“You’re going to be okay, Stell. it’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He promises the little girl in his arms.

Tears blur his vision. His concussion rears it’s ugly head, pulsing against his temples and making the sidewalk shift with his blurred vision. He can’t let that stop him. Stella needs him. He pushes his injured and weak body to go harder the next block, dodging pedestrians and cabs in walk ways and dogs on leashes. He hits the emergency entrance of the hospital, screaming for help.

“Help! Please! My nieces is going into shock! She was exposed to peanuts!” Nurses swarm him, snatching Stell immediately and taking over.

“Did you give her Epinephrine?”

“How was she exposed?”

“Is this her first exposure?”

Lio answers the questions as best he can. Yes, ingested and no. He looks over his shoulder, wondering when he can expect to see Lucie. But then they are taking Stella away on her bed. Another nurse holds him back as they rush down the hall with her.

“Sir, I need you to wait in the lobby.”

She is right. He needs to wait for Lucie anyway. But that doesn’t make it easier to turn around. He heads to the doors he just sprinted through, avoiding the gazes of curious onlookers. He walks outside into the cold air. His chest tightens immediately and he turns to the side, looking for something he can vomit into. But then he sees Lucie Wood, rushing down the sidewalk, clutching her purse to her chest, sobbing so loud he can hear every inhale and exhale of her shaking body.

“Luc, they’ve got her.” Lio calls to her. He opens his arms up and Lucie collapses into his body. His shirt is immediately wet from her face. Large hiccups shudder her frame against him. He squeezes her tight, smoothing her hair down. “It’s going to be okay.” Lio whispers to her, hoping that maybe if they chant that together, it will make it real.

Several minutes pass. Lucie continues to sob into Lio’s body, even after he moves her inside to get out of the wind. The doctors come out looking for him, finding him and Lucie together. Stella is stable. They can go see her, but she will need to stay for several hours for monitoring as they had to give her two more injections. Lucie heads right into her daughter’s room, curling up with the little girl who looks drugged and exhausted in the center.

“Mama is here. You’re okay.” She cries to her daughter. Stella is upset and shaken from the ordeal. She clings to Lucie like a monkey, balling her shirt up in her little fists.

“LuLu, do you want me to call Connor?”

“Yes.” Lucie whispers, barely able to get the word out of her shaking lips. She reaches into the back pocket of her jeans, handing her phone to him. “If you call he won’t answer.” She says simply. Lio tries to brush that off like it doesn’t hurt, but it stings as bad as the wind biting his cheeks during his sprint to the hospital.

Lio takes a deep breath, then clicks on Connor’s contact. His heart is pounding in his chest like he’s about to take a face-off in the final minute of a trailing game. He licks his lips, leaning agains the wall, waiting on the call to connect.

“Hey baby! I’m just about to leave.”

“Ah.” Lio coughs. “Hey, it’s Lio.”

Silence.

“Where is Lucie?” A definite snap tightens the words through the line.

“She’s with Stella. She asked me to call you and tell you what is going on.”

“What? Are they okay? What..”

“Lucie is okay.” Lio starts.

“Stell? Whats wrong with her!?” Connor’s voice is beginning to escalate. “What did you do, Lio?” Connor snaps. Lio closes his eyes.

“I didn’t do anything. It was a mistake at the restaurant.”

“Fuck!” Connor yells. “Where are you?”

“At Children’s hospital off 34th.”

“You have to tell me what happened, Lio.”

“I’m trying to, but you’re not letting me get much out here, man.” Connor sighs. Lio takes his silence as compliance. “We were out grabbing lunch and she had an allergic reaction and we had to bring her to the hospital. Her Epipen wasn’t enough.”

“Fuck, I have the second one. We usually have the two together, but Lucie and I had plans the other night and…” Connor’s voice is distraught.

“It happens. But you should get down here. They need you.”

“I’m on my way.”

Lio removes the phone from his ear, looking at the lock screen of Lucie, Connor and Stella. Lio took that photo of them this summer in Switzerland, before everything happened. He sighs heavily, then comes back into the room.

“Connor is coming.” Lio assures Lucie. She doesn’t take her crying eyes off the little girl in her arms. She sniffs and nods in acknowledgement, continuing to touch her daughter’s face soothingly. Lio can’t tell if it’s for Stella or Lucie.

Connor Wood arrives thirty minutes later with squeaking sneakers on the tile floor of the hospital hallway. Lucie and Stella are dozing in an overwhelmed sleep. Lio sits in the chair next to them with one hand on Stella, rubbing her arm. Lucie’s hand clings to his wrist, needing comfort in one of the worst moments of her life.

“I’m a terrible mom.” She had told Lio tearfully.

“You’re not. It was scary.”

“What if you weren’t there?”

“It doesn’t matter. I was.”

“Luc! Stell!” Connor rushes into the room then locks in on Lio. He shifts his worried eyes to the bed, seeing Lucie and Stella curled together. His lips pull into a deep frown, then his eyes seemingly dim when he takes in Lio in the place he should be.

“They’re resting, Lucie is pretty upset.” Lio says as he slowly works his wrist out of Lucie’s grasp. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to see me. I’ll leave now, I just didn’t want to leave the girls alone before you got here.”

“What happened?” Connor asks. Lio can see the way his chest rapidly raises and falls beneath the Rangers logo on his chest.

“Stella somehow got a peanut butter shake at the diner. Wrong order. She had some and started having a severe reaction.” Connor’s face gets ghostly pale. He puts his hand on his head over his blue hat, waiting for more. “Um, Luc, She… she panicked. It was all scary. Truly awful. But I gave Stell the injection, but it didn’t do enough. She became mostly unresponsive.” Connor closes his eyes, bringing his hands to his face in anguish. “There wasn’t time to wait for help, so I grabbed Stella and ran here with her.”

“You ran?”

“Yeah. Stell didn’t have time.” Lio reiterates. If he is mad at Lio for that, then so be it. Maybe it was reckless, but Lio had to make a judgement call and Stell is going to be okay because of it. Connor stares at Lio. Then suddenly he steps forward around the bed. Lio stands up taller, preparing for anything. Connor wraps an arm around Lio’s shoulders to bring him into his body. Lio brings his hands up, clasping Connor’s back as they share a deep, sincere hug.

“Thank you.” Connor whispers, tears coating his voice. Lio squeezes Connor tighter, not wanting to let go of his best friend. Suddenly, it hits Lio. How close they were to losing Stell. How dire she had looked when he ran through the doors of the ER. How Lucie had every right to be that terrified at the table. It had been bad. Horrible. Worst case scenario.

Lio can’t help it. He begins to sob. Everything that has happened the last few months weeps out of him. From losing Savannah, to screaming at his parents, to only having his little sister, to losing the three people in this room with him. His concussion… almost losing Stella on that New York street.

“It’s okay, Lee. She’s going to be okay.” Connor puts his hand on Lio’s head. “You saved our girl.” Lio nods, shuddering as he pulls away. Both men wipe their faces with their hands, then look over to the two girls laying in the bed. Stella has a sleepy grin on her face, watching them.

“Daddy!” She giggles, reaching out to him, flexing and unflexing her fingers for him to come closer.

“Hi baby.” Connor smiles brightly, leaning down to kiss her cheeks. “Can I lay with you and mama?”

“Yeah.” Stella yawns as she says the word.

“Sleepy.” Connor chuckles, kissing her again. He curls her and Lucie into his body, trying to be careful not to wake his wife. Lucie jolts up at the feeling of his hands on her. “Me, Luc. It’s me.” She visibly relaxes when she sees her husband. “I’m here.” He brushes her cheek with his thumb.

Lio watches from the end of the bed, then anxiously rubs at his forehead. He clears his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Um, well I’ll head out so you all can be together.”

“No, don’t go.” Lucie shakes her head.

“It’s okay, Luc. I’ll see you later.”

“You should stay with us.” Connor says softly. “We want you here.” The insinuation of the we has the corners of Lio’s mouth sliding up.

Lio makes his way back to the chair by the bedside, sitting down in it. Him and Connor share a look of understanding. Lucie trails her nails along Stella’s back as another big yawn stretches her little mouth.

“Uncle Lee?” Stella murmurs.

“Hm?”

“You gonna be here when I wake up?”

“Yeah, Stell.” He sighs. “I’ll be right here.”

#lio & lucie #lio x savannah

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kpop-stories-21 · 2 years ago

Text

A Bittersweet Holiday

Group: ATEEZ

Pairing: Hongjoong x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Rating: 18-21+

Genres, Tropes, & AUs: Non-Idol AU, Established Relationship, Smut, Angst

Content & Trigger Warnings: Husband!Hongjoong, Wife!Reader, major character death, reader has an incurable illness, unprotected sex(wrap that shit up kids), goodbye sex, soft sex, fingering, slight dirty talk, Joong is very gentle with the reader

Summary: Christmas has always been you and Hongjoong's favourite holiday. After all, it was on December 24th four years ago that the two of you became husband and wife. But this year is different: not only will it be the last one you celebrate with Hongjoong; it will be the last one you celebrate, period. And you can't think of a better place to be when things happen than snowed in with your husband at your family's mountain cabin.

General tags: @kpop---scenarios @jeonrose @skittlez-area512 @mybiasisexo @biaswreckingfics @anyamaris @liliesofdreams @rdiamond2727 @naturalogre @bxffietheblxxdy @millennial-fangirl @twisted-tales-of-all @yoonguurt @staytinyville @dimpledsatan @kwanisms ATEEZ tags: @deltamoon666 @lovelyhange @spicyseonghwas

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Network pings: @cacaokpop-fics | @kdiarynet | @cultofdionysusnet

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A/N: Ya'll get your tissue boxes ready, we're in for quite the emotional ride

Collab Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You still remembered it vividly, the day the doctor said you had a disease with no known cure. It had been a devastating revelation, one that left you and your husband reeling for weeks afterward.

Things were fairly easy in the beginning. Aside from the weekly doctor visits, everything continued as usual for a while. Then one day you noticed that simple things like going upstairs and walking around the house exhausted you, leaving you tired for the rest of the day. Every day when Hongjoong came home from work, he found you perched on the couch looking like you just ran a marathon. He’d kiss you softly, then go change and start in on the housework. You felt awful for not being able to help him, but when you brought it up he just shrugged.

“I can manage.” He told you. “It’s not that big a deal.”

But you could see that it was, in fact, a very big deal. The stress of having to go to work, then come home and do all the things you used to be able to do was wearing him thin. Sometimes you felt like you were more concerned with his health than your own, but there was quite literally nothing you could do.

Sometime near the end of November, Hongjoong reached his boiling point. Suspended from work for getting into a fight with a colleague, he decided to take you away on what would probably be your last vacation. Your family owned a cabin in the nearby mountains, and it had become something of a Christmas tradition for the two of you to spend the holiday all warm and cosy in that little cabin. So you packed up and began the now-familiar drive into the country, ready to get away from all the stress and anxiety that hung heavy in your house.

“We’re here!” Hongjoong murmured, gently rousing you back to wakefulness. You shook the sleep from your eyes and pushed open the passenger car door, sliding out into the crisp winter air. Hongjoong unlocked the cabin’s front door and let you sit on the bed to begin unpacking things while he went to purchase a week’s worth of groceries to start with.

As you sat on the comfy double bed and emptied out one suitcase after another, you found yourself thinking back on your life and if you had really lived it to the fullest. Could you confidently face your end with no regrets? You weren’t sure. Maybe talking it over with Hongjoong would help you put things in perspective.

The rustling of plastic bags broke you from your thoughts as your husband re-entered the cabin. You stood and went to watch him unbag everything and put it all away, smiling at how lucky you were to have someone as kind and caring as Hongjoong. He was everything you could’ve ever asked for in a partner, plus so much more. You wouldn’t have anyone else by your side through all of this, not even your parents or your best friends.

Hongjoong saw you standing in the doorway and stopped to smile at you. He could see the lingering worry in your expression and walked over, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you.

“What’s wrong, love? Is something bothering you?”

You let out a sigh, hesitating, then slowly nodded your head. “A little, yeah.”

Hongjoong guided you into the living room and sat beside you on the sofa, dark eyes watching you intently. Taking a deep breath, you began to share with him the thoughts you’d had just moments ago. Hongjoong listened patiently, waiting until he was sure you’d said everything before voicing his response.

“You know what I think? I think that you have absolutely nothing to be worried about. Everyone makes mistakes or does things they regret, but unfortunately that’s just part of life. What you need to remember is this: the things that really made you happy, the moments you’ll never forget? You did them because you wanted to, and that is far more important than doing things that will only please others.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you leaned forward and hugged him tightly, your heart swelling at the profound words. “I love you so much Hongjoong, more than you will ever know.” You looked up at him seriously. “There may be things in my past that I regret, but marrying you has never been one of them.”

Hongjoong held you fast against his chest, relishing the warmth of your thin body. In his head he cursed God, the Fates, or whoever was responsible for taking you away from him much too soon. He hated that he wouldn't get to grow old with you, surrounded by grandchildren. You had only managed to give birth once before becoming sick. The baby had been several weeks premature, and after being released from the hospital she currently resided with your parents since you were too ill to care for her. When he realised he was going to lose you, Hongjoong had sworn to himself that he would be the best father he could be. He owed you that at least, if not so much more.

The rest of that day was spent quietly, the two of you curled up on the couch watching Christmas movies together until you both began to get sleepy and retired to the bedroom.

On your fourth day at the cabin, you woke to find a thick blanket of snow covering everything. According to the weather report it was several inches thick, with a layer of ice underneath. Long story short, you and Hongjoong were now snowed in until it melted enough for safe road travel.

A couple days after that, you awakened with a strange urgency flooding your veins. You had trouble even sitting up by now, and Hongjoong had to help you do pretty much everything. You had a sinking feeling the urgency meant you didn't have much longer, and it terrified you. You were by no means ready to leave, especially since it meant your beloved husband would be stranded with your lifeless form for who knew how long.

After dinner that evening you asked for a last favour from Hongjoong.

“Joong, will you make love to me?”

The brunette choked on his drink a little, looking at you in surprise.

“Y/N, are you sure? I don't wish to hurt you or-”

“I'm sure.” You replied, staring at him firmly. “I want to feel you one last time.” You bit your lip to hide the wobble of your chin as you pushed out that last sentence. You hated how final everything felt, and you knew Hongjoong felt the same way.

“Alright then.” He conceded, scooping you into his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. He sat you gently on the plush duvet, then proceeded to cover all the windows. This was to be a private moment, just between the two of you.

Tenderly, as if he was afraid he might break you, he stripped you of your clothes before removing his own. Then he crawled slowly towards you, that signature smirk of his surfacing for a moment and causing butterflies to erupt within you. His hands gripped your hips briefly before sliding up your side to cup your face.

“I love you so much, my sweet Y/N, and I will miss you terribly.” He murmured, eyes glistening.

“Shh, let’s not think about that now.” You whispered, heart twisting at the agony in his expression. “Show me how much you love me, Kim Hongjoong.”

His lips met yours in a gentle but heated kiss as he slipped two fingers inside of you. It had been a while since the last time you two were intimate with each other like this, and the stretch made you wince slightly. Hongjoong pressed little kisses to your forehead as he carefully moved his fingers, and soon the discomfort gave way as heat began to build inside of you.

A quiet moan slipped past your lips, and Hongjoong tentatively added a third finger. No discomfort twisted your features, only pleasure, and so he deemed that you were ready. Removing his fingers, he moved forward, sliding fully into you with one smooth motion. A choked moan was punched out of your lungs, eyes rolling back slightly at the glorious sensations coursing through your body.

“Fuck, I forgot how good you felt inside me like this.” You panted, gripping his shoulders as you fought the urge to cum immediately.

“It’s been too long.” Hongjoong agreed, letting out a grunt as your walls clenched around him. “You’re always so tight for me, baby.”

Hovering over you, he pressed a firm kiss to your lips and began moving in long, slow thrusts that stole the breath from your lungs as he pressed deep inside you.

“Shit, Joong, ‘m not gonna last long like this!” You exclaimed, fingers burying in his hair as he leaned over and wrapped his tongue around your nipple, licking and sucking as he continued to fill you up over and over.

“It’s okay, my love. Go ahead, cum for me. I won’t be far behind.”

A wave of utter euphoria flooded your senses, your vision going white as the most intense orgasm you might’ve ever had washed over you. Lost in the bliss, you didn’t even register when your husband’s movements stilled as he emptied his load inside of you.

Once you floated back down to earth, you watched with a sated smile as Hongjoong set about cleaning both of you up. Then he pulled the duvet and sheets down, climbing in and pulling you close as he succumbed to sleep’s sweet call.

You stayed awake that night, mind running too fast to even attempt sleeping. As the sun began to peek over the mountaintops you felt a sudden peace come over you, replacing the urgency you’d felt the previous day.

Hongjoong would be alright. He had both his and your parents, his friends, and your little daughter as well. They would help him cope and keep him from losing himself to his grief.

Yes, he would be okay. You could rest easy now knowing your family would be cared for and looked after. You took one last look at your beloved husband, smiled, and let go.

#cultofdionysusnet #16 days of smutmas 2023 #kdiarynet #cacaokpop #sandsofirenet #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #ateez smut #ateez angst #hongjoong smut #hongjoong angst #maturefanfic #18-21+#au #fanfic

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