#he knew she needs to time to process that slowing down and resting are okay and the world isn’t going to end if she takes a break
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pergaminaa · 2 months ago
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Modern au
Dorian Havilliard LIVES for slow mornings!!! He finds them the perfect opportunity to spoil Manon and actually get her to relax and catch up on rest.
He normally has an elaborate nighttime routine (starting as early as 6 pm) so he gets her to sleep somewhat early. It took months but she’s finally conditioned to go to sleep when they go to bed at night. He usually reads a few chapters before cuddling her and running his hand up and down her back, massage her skull and she normally goes to sleep soon after.
So, on those mornings he actually leaves the bed and continues to pay his full attention to her.
He starts with making fresh coffee. Manon is awful with food but he knows what she likes and all so he has no issues making something she will actually eat.
He brings the food to her in bed, and they proceed to chat lightly while enjoying the quietness of the day.
He doesn’t normally plan much on those days, because the point is to get Manon to slow down and relax. Around late afternoon they go out on a walk, and they end the walk with a visit to a cafe before they return back home.
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ccupcakeyss · 3 months ago
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༝     .   MAMA SANDWICH ! .  ✿
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SUMMARY: after a long day, cuddling is just what you need from your husband toji. or... your child megumi? both? oh great. here comes war.
WC: 852
NOTES: I HAVE BEEN ON THE BIGGEST TOJI BRAINROT so incoming; toji fics are on its way
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Evening in the Fushiguro household was always a soft sort of chaos.
Dinner had been eaten. Megumi’s tiny face had been wiped clean (after much squirming and pouting). Pajamas were on, teeth brushed—though Toji insisted, “The kid’s only got like three teeth, what’s there to brush?”—and now it was finally time for the best part of the day.
Cuddle Time.
You were curled up on the couch, warm and cozy under a big blanket, reading a book and half-listening to the quiet hum of the night. You’d barely blinked when a familiar weight crashed beside you.
“‘Kay, move over.”
Toji’s gravelly voice. Grumpy, low, but unmistakably pouty in that way he tried to hide.
You shifted just enough to make room as he flopped beside you with a groan, throwing one arm around your waist and pulling you in with that effortless strength of his.
“Rough day?” you asked, pressing a kiss to his jaw.
“Always,” he muttered, burying his face into your neck like a heat-seeking missile. “Missed you.”
You smiled softly, fingers carding through his dark hair. “I’m right here.”
You should’ve expected what came next.
Tiny, stompy feet. The quiet pat-pat-pat of your son’s determined little march.
Megumi waddled into the living room, wearing his favorite wolf-print pajama pants and dragging his own little blanket like a warrior preparing for battle.
He stopped in front of the couch. Squinted.
Frowned.
“…Papa, move.”
Toji peeked one eye open. “No.”
“I wanna cuddle Mama.”
“Too bad. I got here first.”
“Not fair!” Megumi huffed, cheeks puffed out, hands balling into tiny fists. “She’s my mama!”
Toji didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch.
“She’s my wife.”
“But—!”
Megumi stomped once more, then—with all the dramatic flair of a bedtime soap opera—climbed on top of you, shoving his way between your chest and Toji’s arm like a chubby little wedge.
“Toji—” you started, laughing as the blanket slipped down your shoulder.
“No. Nope. He’s not allowed in here.”
“He’s your son,” you reminded, trying to wrangle the squirmy toddler now making himself at home in your arms.
“He’s a traitor.”
Megumi smirked triumphantly, curling into your chest and patting your collarbone like he’d just conquered a new kingdom. “My Mama.”
Toji let out a dramatic sigh, glaring at Megumi like he’d just been dethroned. “You get her all day. I get her at night. That’s the rule.”
Megumi looked up at you. “Is that true?”
You blinked. “There’s a rule?”
Toji grunted. “There should be.”
But Megumi wasn’t budging. He threw one leg over your stomach and settled in like a cat, kicking Toji’s side lightly in the process.
You were wheezing from trying not to laugh. “Okay, okay—stop. You both can cuddle me.”
“No.” They said it at the same time.
Toji tugged you closer, trying to reclaim his space. Megumi clung tighter, glaring up at him with wide, watery eyes.
“She loves me more,” the kid mumbled.
Toji’s eyebrow twitched. “Wanna bet?”
Before you knew it, Toji had hooked one arm around Megumi and the other under your knees—and in one smooth, annoyingly strong motion, he hoisted both of you into his lap like you weighed nothing.
Now you were in the middle. Megumi pressed to your chest. Toji wrapped around your back, legs caging you both in.
“Aha,” he muttered smugly. “Cuddle sandwich. I win.”
“This is not winning,” you said, laughing. “This is kidnapping.”
Megumi was too busy snuggling into your hoodie, mumbling something about how warm you were and how he wanted you all to himself. Toji kept his arm slung heavy around both of you, his big hand on your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“I’m gonna fall asleep like this,” you warned.
“That’s the plan,” he muttered, eyes already half-lidded.
You could feel Megumi relaxing, his breathing slowing. And Toji—despite all his grumbling—was gently running his fingers up and down your side in soft, rhythmic strokes.
“…Love you, Mama,” Megumi whispered, voice already heavy with sleep.
Toji grunted softly, his mouth brushing your neck. “Tch. Love you too.”
“Who are you saying that to?” you asked, smiling.
“…Both of you.”
Your heart ached in the best possible way.
Toji—fierce and dangerous and built for anything but softness—was now the anchor of this small, sleepy pile of warmth and love. His son clung to you like you were the sun, and he held you both like you were his whole damn world.
Which, honestly, you were.
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Later that night, when you were half-asleep and Megumi had long since started drooling on your chest, you felt Toji whisper into your hair.
“I used to think I was gonna die alone,” he murmured. “Now I’ve got you two, and I’m fighting a four-year-old over cuddles.”
You smiled, eyes closed, hand resting over his on your waist.
“You lost, by the way.”
Toji snorted quietly. “Nah. Still got you in my arms, didn’t I?”
And just like that, the house fell into peaceful silence—wrapped in blankets, love, and the kind of warmth Toji Fushiguro never believed he’d ever deserve.
But now?
He wouldn’t give it up for the world.
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callsigns-haze · 9 months ago
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Silly little life
Summary: Hangman skips a mission to be by Y/N's side during a tough labor, and together they welcome their baby girl into the world, showing just how strong their bond is.
Warning: Contains intense depictions of labor pain and emotional distress during childbirth.
Word count: 3476 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader
English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes
Could be read alone or as part two of Little Life
Part 3
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The Dagger squad gathered in the briefing room, the usual air of anticipation hanging thick in the space. Maverick stood at the front, arms crossed over his chest as he looked out at the group. Phoenix leaned back in her chair, her legs casually crossed, while Rooster sat forward, elbows on the table, a curious look on his face. Fanboy and Payback were murmuring something under their breath, probably joking about who’d outfly who on the next mission. Coyote sat closest to the front, sharp-eyed and waiting for instructions. Bob, as usual, was quietly observing from the corner, his ever-attentive gaze locked on Maverick.
But one thing was missing—Jake “Hangman” Seresin.
It wasn’t unusual for Jake to cut it close, swaggering in just as the briefing started, flashing his cocky grin as if the world bent to his timing. But today, he was nowhere to be seen.
Maverick cleared his throat, and the chatter in the room died down, all eyes turning toward him. He gave them a measured look, the kind of expression that immediately told the group something was off.
“I’m going to keep this short,” Maverick began, his voice calm but firm. “As you’ve all noticed, Hangman’s not here.”
Phoenix raised an eyebrow, leaning forward in her chair. “Where is he? It’s not like Jake to miss a briefing.”
Rooster shot her a look, his expression sceptical. “Maybe he’s just late. Hangman never misses a chance to show off.”
Maverick shook his head. “He’s not late. He’s not coming.”
A murmur ran through the squad, surprise rippling across their faces. Payback’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Fanboy exchanged a quick glance with Coyote, who looked genuinely confused.
Bob, ever the quiet one, spoke up from the back, his voice soft but clear. “Why not? What happened?”
Maverick let out a slow breath, his gaze steady. “Jake’s not going to be joining us on this mission. He’s dealing with... important family business.” The way he said it left little room for questions. It was vague, deliberate. He wasn’t going to share more than that, and the squad knew it.
Phoenix frowned, her lips pressed into a thin line as she glanced around the room. “Family business?” she echoed. “Jake never mentioned—”
“He didn’t have to,” Maverick interrupted, his tone kind but firm. “Whatever it is, it’s personal, and it’s not your place to pry. The information only belongs to him and his commanders.”
There was a pause, the weight of the unspoken questions hanging in the air. The Dagger squad wasn’t used to Jake missing missions, especially without an explanation. He was Hangman—their most confident, always-present wingman: bit of a douche too. The idea of him having something outside of flying, something that pulled him away, was almost unimaginable.
Rooster scratched at his chin, his brow furrowed. “Is he okay?”
Maverick’s gaze flickered to Rooster, then to the rest of the squad. “He’s fine,” he reassured them, though his voice held a tone that indicated there was more to the story than he was letting on. “He’ll be back when he’s ready. Until then, you focus on the mission at hand.”
Coyote, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke, his deep voice filled with concern. “So we’re just supposed to carry on without him?”
“That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do,” Maverick replied, his voice sharp. “Hangman knows what he’s doing, and he knows when to step back. Right now, his focus is where it needs to be.”
There was a silence in the room, heavy with unanswered questions. The squad exchanged glances, each one processing the news in their own way. Phoenix looked thoughtful, her mind clearly working through what “family business” could mean for someone like Jake, someone who seemed to live for the thrill of flying and the camaraderie of the squad. Rooster’s expression remained puzzled, though a part of him seemed to respect the privacy Maverick was asking for.
Bob, still calm and collected, nodded quietly to himself. “Understood.”
Maverick gave them all a final, serious look. “Jake will be back when he’s ready. Until then, we move forward. Focus on the mission. That’s all.”
With that, Maverick turned and walked out, leaving the room in a quiet, subdued atmosphere. The Dagger squad sat for a moment longer, absorbing the reality that Hangman wouldn’t be flying with them this time.
But none of them could shake the question lingering in their minds: What kind of family business was important enough to pull Jake Seresin away from the skies?
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Hours. It felt like you’d been in labor for days instead of hours. Every contraction tore through you, leaving you drenched in sweat, your muscles aching from the strain. The hospital room was dimly lit, the rhythmic beeping of the monitor the only constant in the chaos of your body. You tossed and turned on the bed, trying to find some relief, but nothing seemed to help.
Your hair stuck to your forehead, damp and tangled, and every breath felt labored, like your lungs could barely keep up with the demands of your body. Groaning in discomfort, you shifted again, the cold sheets doing nothing to cool your overheated skin. Your hand gripped the side of the bed as another wave of pain hit, your knuckles white from the pressure.
Jake was beside you, his hand on your arm, trying his best to soothe you. His voice was soft, calm, like he was trying to talk you through a flight manoeuvre. “You’re doing amazing, darlin’,” he whispered, his other hand gently brushing the hair from your face. “Breathe through it, okay? We’re almost there.”
But his words didn’t bring you the comfort they usually did. You were too far gone in the discomfort, the contractions relentless, your body feeling like it was fighting against itself. You groaned again, louder this time, unable to hold back the frustration as the pressure built in your lower abdomen.
“Jake, I can’t—” you panted, squeezing your eyes shut as another contraction took hold. The pain was unlike anything you’d ever felt, a deep, all-consuming force that made you want to scream, cry, or both. You could feel Jake’s hand rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder, but it wasn’t enough.
“I know, baby, I know,” he said softly, his voice tight with worry. “You’re so strong. Just keep going, alright?”
You cracked one eye open, looking at him through the haze of exhaustion. His face was lined with concern, his brow furrowed as he held the small plastic cup of ice chips in his hand. You could tell he was trying to be strong for you, but you could also see the fear in his eyes—the helplessness. He hated seeing you like this, and even though he was doing everything he could, there was nothing that could truly ease your pain.
He brought a spoonful of ice chips to your lips, his touch gentle, careful. “Here, darlin’, try to take a little more,” he urged, but you turned your head slightly, too tired, too uncomfortable to want anything in that moment.
“I don’t want the damn ice,” you snapped, immediately feeling bad as soon as the words left your mouth. But you were so frustrated, so overwhelmed with the never-ending discomfort.
Jake didn’t take it personally. He just nodded, setting the cup down on the table beside him before leaning in, his hand still resting on your arm. “I know, sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re doing great. I’m right here.”
You groaned again, a deep, guttural sound that came from the pit of your stomach as your body prepared for another contraction. The pressure in your hips and lower back was unbearable, and no amount of repositioning or soothing touches could make it stop.
You tossed your head back against the pillow, panting, desperate for this to end. You could feel the sweat trickling down your neck, your whole body shaking with the effort of holding on. Every time you thought the pain had peaked, it got worse, and your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to ride through it.
Jake’s hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. He was trying to help, you knew that, but nothing he did seemed to touch the raw intensity of what you were feeling. You could hear him murmuring something under his breath—soft encouragements, maybe—or a prayer that this would be over soon.
Your grip on his hand tightened as another wave hit, and you groaned again, your whole body arching off the bed with the sheer force of it. It felt like you were being pulled apart, every muscle in your body straining as you fought to stay in control. But it was slipping. You were slipping.
“Jake,” you panted, your voice breaking. “I—I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours for a moment. “You’re almost there, baby. I promise. Just a little longer, okay? You’ve got this.”
You wanted to believe him. You wanted to hold onto his words and let them carry you through. But right now, it felt like there was no end in sight. Just more pain, more pressure, more of this endless battle between your body and the life you were about to bring into the world.
But through the haze of discomfort and exhaustion, you could feel his presence, solid and unwavering, anchoring you to the moment. And somehow, in the middle of all this chaos, that was enough to keep you going.
Even if the ice chips weren’t.
The hours dragged on, and it felt like you were stuck in a whirlwind of pain and exhaustion. Every contraction was a tidal wave, crashing over you, pulling you under. You’d lost track of time, your body trembling with the effort it took just to breathe through each one. Jake hadn’t left your side, his hand gripping yours firmly, as if he could somehow share in the pain.
The nurse's calm voice broke through the fog, "It’s almost time to push, Y/N."
Your breath hitched as another contraction seized you, so powerful that you couldn’t stop the low groan that escaped your lips. Your muscles were tight, your back arching against the bed. Every fibre of your being was screaming for this to end, for the overwhelming pressure to stop.
"Almost time?" you muttered between pants, your voice ragged from hours of groaning and yelling. "Feels like I’ve been at this forever."
Jake leaned closer, his face full of concern, his hand never leaving yours. “You’re almost there, sweetheart. Just a little longer,” he whispered, though you could hear the tension in his voice. You could see the worry etched on his face, the furrow in his brow. He was scared, even if he was doing his best to hide it from you.
The doctor’s voice cut through the haze. "Okay, Y/N, the baby’s almost here. I need you to push when you feel the next contraction, alright?"
You nodded, your chest heaving as you tried to gather every last ounce of strength left in your body. When the next wave hit, you bore down, groaning through clenched teeth as you pushed with everything you had.
"Good! That’s it," the doctor encouraged, her voice steady. "Keep going."
But the pressure—it felt like you were being torn in two. "Oh my God," you groaned, panting. "This baby… this baby has your fat head!"
You heard Jake choke back a laugh, his voice tight with emotion. "Hey now, darlin’, let’s not go blaming me for that," he teased, trying to lighten the mood, but you weren’t in the mood for jokes.
You growled through another push, your face contorting in pain. "I swear, Jake, if this kid has your big-ass head, I’m never letting you forget it!"
He kissed your forehead, his voice soft but laced with a chuckle. “You can blame me all you want, but you’re doing amazing, baby. You’re so strong.”
Another contraction ripped through you, and you squeezed his hand so hard you were sure you’d break it. You could barely focus, barely think beyond the burning pressure and the overwhelming need to push. But even through the haze of agony, the words tumbled out before you could stop them.
"I swear to God, Jake, I’m never doing this again!” you groaned. “Never!"
He nodded, his eyes filled with warmth and concern as he whispered soothingly. "Whatever you say, sweetheart. Whatever you say."
But the next contraction hit, and despite the pain, you pushed harder, feeling the unbearable pressure of the baby moving down. The pain was white-hot, and you let out a strangled cry, your body trembling from the effort.
"Oh my God!" you gasped, tossing your head back against the pillow. "I hate you, Jake! This is your fault!"
Jake squeezed your hand, his voice gentle but steady. "You can hate me all you want, darlin’. You’re doing incredible. Almost there."
You groaned again, guilt mixing with the frustration. You didn’t mean any of it—not really—but the pain had twisted everything inside you, and you couldn’t help but lash out. The guilt made it worse, made your heart ache even through the physical agony.
"I’m sorry," you gasped between ragged breaths. "I don’t… I don’t mean it, I just—" another contraction cut you off, and you screamed, pushing as hard as you could. The burn was intense, and you could feel the baby’s head beginning to crown.
"You’re okay, you’re okay," Jake murmured, his forehead resting against yours now, his voice a grounding force in the chaos. "You’ve got this. You’re almost there, sweetheart."
You bore down again, your whole body trembling as you pushed with everything you had left. The pain was searing, and you could feel the baby’s head stretching you, the sensation overwhelming.
"I swear this kid has your huge head!" you groaned again, your voice a mix of pain and humour as you struggled to keep going.
The doctor’s voice cut through, sharp and encouraging. "One more big push, Y/N. The head’s almost out."
You clenched your jaw, took a deep breath, and pushed again, harder than before. The pressure built to an unbearable peak, and then—
Suddenly, the pain shifted. There was a release, and the tension in your body eased. You gasped for air, your heart pounding in your chest, and then, you heard it—a sharp, clear cry that echoed through the room.
The baby’s first cry.
Tears welled up in your eyes as the doctor held up the tiny, wriggling form for you to see. "It’s a girl!" she announced, and for a moment, all the pain, all the exhaustion, melted away. Your heart swelled as you looked at her—your baby girl.
Jake let out a shaky breath beside you, his voice breaking as he whispered, "We have a daughter."
You watched through tear-filled eyes as the nurse cleaned her up, bringing her over and placing her carefully in your arms. She was so small, her little face scrunched up, her tiny fists waving in the air. You felt Jake’s arm around your shoulders, his hand resting gently on your baby girl’s head as the two of you gazed down at her.
All the pain, all the frustration and discomfort—it didn’t matter anymore. You smiled softly, still breathless, tears rolling down your cheeks as you cradled your daughter to your chest.
"She’s perfect," you whispered, your voice filled with awe.
Jake leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You’re perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You did it, darlin’. You brought our little girl into the world."
As the room quieted, the nurses moved about with practiced ease, cleaning and tidying up, but all your attention was on Jake and your baby girl. After a moment of letting you hold her, Jake gently reached down, his large hands cradling her tiny form as he took her from your arms, holding her with such tenderness that it made your heart ache. The way he looked at her—with awe, love, and the purest joy—made your breath catch.
But as soon as she left your arms, a wave of emotion hit you like a tidal wave. You were still shaky, still exhausted from labor, but now a new weight settled over your chest. The words you’d shouted, the anger, the frustration—all of it came flooding back. You hadn’t meant any of it, but you couldn’t shake the guilt that twisted in your stomach.
You looked over at Jake, watching him coo softly to your baby girl, his thumb brushing over her cheek as she wriggled slightly in his arms. The sight should have filled you with nothing but joy, but instead, tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks before you could even try to hold them back.
You wiped at your face, embarrassed by the sudden flood of emotions, but it only made the tears come harder. The sobs were quiet at first, but soon, your shoulders shook with the force of them, each breath hitching in your chest.
Jake’s head whipped toward you immediately. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but urgent. He moved closer, still holding your daughter, his brow furrowed in concern. “Are you in pain? What’s going on?”
You shook your head, unable to speak through the lump in your throat. You tried to take a deep breath, but it only made the sobs come harder. The guilt weighed on you, heavy and crushing, and you couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out.
“I’m sorry, Jake,” you choked, your voice barely a whisper through the tears. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Jake’s eyes softened, and he knelt beside you, carefully balancing your daughter in his arms while reaching out to take your hand. “Sorry? Darlin’, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
But you couldn’t stop. The guilt gnawed at you, every word you’d said during labor echoing in your mind. “I yelled at you. I—I said such awful things. I blamed you, and it wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean any of it, Jake, I swear, I didn’t.” Your voice broke again, tears streaming down your face as you looked at him through blurry eyes.
Jake’s face softened even more, his expression full of understanding and love. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “You just went through hell bringing our little girl into the world. You were in pain. I know you didn’t mean any of that.”
You sniffled, wiping at your cheeks, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “But I—” you started, but Jake leaned in closer, cutting you off gently.
“No buts,” he whispered, his voice firm but filled with warmth. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. I love you, and I’m so damn proud of you. You were incredible, Y/N. And our little girl is here because of you.” His gaze flickered down to the tiny bundle in his arms, her little eyes closed as she slept soundly.
You let out a shaky breath, your sobs quieting but still present as you watched Jake cradle your daughter so carefully. “I just… I feel so bad,” you whispered, your chest still tight with guilt. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled back. “Darlin’, you could’ve called me every name in the book, and I still wouldn’t hold it against you. You brought our baby into the world. That’s all that matters.”
You looked up at him, your vision still blurred with tears, but his words cut through the guilt, soothing the ache in your heart. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he looked at you with so much love and admiration.
“I love you,” you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with emotion.
“I love you too,” Jake replied softly, his eyes never leaving yours as he gently shifted your daughter back into your arms. The warmth of her tiny body against yours made your heart swell, the tears still slipping down your cheeks, but this time, they were different. The guilt was still there, but it was fading, replaced by the overwhelming love you felt for your little family.
Jake sat beside you on the bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you held your daughter between you. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. “And now we’ve got this perfect little girl. We did it, darlin’.”
You nodded, sniffling as you looked down at your baby, the small miracle you and Jake had brought into the world. And despite the exhaustion, despite the tears, you couldn’t help but smile through it all. You had your family, and that was everything.
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Part 3
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trentsgirl · 6 months ago
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pairing: jude bellingham x girlfriend!reader
synopsis: you’re a bit crazy when your boyfriend pisses you off.
notes: suuuper short, just something i came up with in like five minutes. srry for not updating, life is crazyy
playing: it’s okay, i’m okay by tate mcrae
masterlist.
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“and then she goes, in the absolute nastiest tone, ‘well, you had plenty of time to do it,’ and i’m just sitting there like, what? you see what i mean? she’s so self-centered, she doesn’t even stop to think that people have lives outside of work!” you vented, your frustration spilling out as jude listened.
the two of you were sprawled out on the bed after a long day apart—him coming back from training, you from work. it had become your nightly routine, sharing the highs and lows of your day with each other. he lay back with his head resting on the pillow, while you propped yourself up on your elbow, turned toward him, still mid-rant about your impossibly annoying boss.
“how much time did you have?” jude asked casually.
“a week, but—”
“then she’s right. you did have plenty of time.”
his words hit you like a slap in the face. your eye twitched. was he… not taking your side? he was supposed to back you up! instead, it felt like he’d just shoved a metaphorical knife into your back and twisted it. how could he?
you sat up abruptly, glaring down at him with narrowed eyes. “she’s right?” you repeated, slow and deliberate, as if giving him a chance to backtrack. maybe you’d misheard. maybe the world wasn’t crumbling around you after all.
but no. jude nodded, sealing his fate.
“wow…” you muttered, your voice dripping with disbelief. “do you hate me?”
the abrupt question made jude’s brows knit together in confusion. “what? what are you talking about?” he asked, his tone baffled.
you shook your head, refusing to meet his eyes. “you hate me… my boyfriend hates me,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, though loud enough for him to hear.
jude blinked at you like you’d lost your mind, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. “are you serious right now?” he asked, staring at you like you were the most dramatic person alive.
“don’t talk to me,” you muttered, almost theatrically, as you slid off the bed. “i need some time alone… to process what just happened.”
jude watched you go, biting back a laugh. he knew this routine all too well—your flair for the dramatic, the way you needed to make a scene before inevitably calming down. shaking his head with a silent chuckle, he let you have your moment, fully expecting you’d be back soon enough, probably with an even more dramatic follow-up.
15 MINUTES LATER…
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caption: i don’t want him anyway, girl take him 🖤
comments:
judebellingham: baby, as much as i don’t like telling you what to do, please take this down.
urbestfriend1: oh what did he do this time? 🙄
urbestfriend2: slay and girl power, but all that stuff aside, what the hell? 😭😭
jobebellingham: i always thought you were too good for him.
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cmyahsr · 17 days ago
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Two weeks notice + Aaron Hotchner
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Summary: You give Aaron your two weeks notice because you want to help raise Jack especially after everything that’s happened. He’s been showing up late to work, exhausted, and now here he was with Jack . You saw it coming. You knew he was trying to hold it all together.
Aaron Hotchner X JacksGodmother!femBAU!reader
Angst a lot of angst — hurt comfort healing grieving ..
Warnings : Mentions of Haley, Jessica, Strauss , emotional grief, single parenthood. Aaron doesn’t open up easily. Reader was close to Haley, and part of her decision is based on what she believes Haley would’ve wanted. But what reader hasn’t fully admitted is that she’s starting to fall for Aaron and she doesn’t know how to live with that, or what it might mean. Not yet , she doesn’t want to betray her and Haley’s friendship by falling for a wonderful man who’s trying to hold it together for his son. WC: 3.5k
A/n based off of season 5 of criminal minds which broke my heart for Aaron and Jack … hope you enjoy this .. it’s my first time writing something like this .. Aaron on the phone with Haley and Jack “I NEED YOU TO WORK THE CASE … Jack did you hear me , mommy I need to work the case .. Jack give your mom a hug for me .. 😭😭😭😭
@ssamorganhotchner .. hope you like this one bestie
Divider by @dollywons
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— ❤︎︎—It’s been a daze the past few weeks.
Ever since everything happened with Haley, people have been grieving in their own ways. Quiet. Slow. Especially around the BAU. And Strauss—she was everywhere. Asking questions. Demanding reports. Trying to piece it all together like grief could be processed on a checklist.
But when all of that faded away… that’s when you started noticing the changes in Aaron.
He was struggling. You saw it. You felt it. And it hurt.
He’d lost Haley.
Jack was all he had left.
You wondered how he still managed to look so put together—how he kept showing up, kept leading, kept holding it all in. But you saw it. The shift. Deep down, Aaron Hotchner wasn’t the same. And he wasn’t supposed to be
“He’s been struggling,” you tell Penelope.
She doesn’t look up right away—she’s kind of in a daze herself. Everyone has been.
Pretty much ever since what happened to Haley.
“Huh?” she says, like she didn’t catch it the first time.
“Sorry,” you say, but she’s already shaking her head.
“No, don’t be. I just… my brain is scrambled eggs right now.”
She starts typing again, half-focused.
She’s messing with a few things on the computer, clicking around, like she’s trying to work but can’t really land on anything.
“I can’t concentrate,” she says, frustrated.
“I know,” you tell her quietly.
You take a deep breath.
Then let it out.
Penelope turns to you.
"Everything's gonna be okay," she says gently.
You nod, even if you don’t totally believe it.
"I just… I wish I could help. In some way."
"We all do," she says softly.
"The best thing we can do for him right now is be there. Just… be there."
"I know," you whisper.
The door opens and JJ walks in.
“Anyone hear from Hotch?”
You shake your head.
“Garcia?”
She sighs, not looking away from her screen. “Nope.”
“He’s not here yet,” JJ mutters, glancing at the clock.
“He just needs time,” Garcia says, still typing but softer now, like even her voice is careful when it’s about him.
Just then, Aaron walked in with Jack.
You stood the second you saw them—Jack in his arms, his little backpack slung over Aaron’s shoulder.
"Aaron," you say, voice a little breathless.
He turns to you.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says quietly.
Jack sees you and immediately squirms to get down, reaching for you with both arms.
Jessica had a business trip,” Aaron explains as Jack runs toward you. “I told her to go. She’s done enough for us already.”
Jack reaches you and you bend down to scoop him up.
“Hey, buddy.”
“I missed you,” Jack says, resting his head on your shoulder.
“Missed you too, bud.”
You glance at Aaron. “Let me watch him. Go do what you gotta do. Me and Garcia—we can handle this. Okay?”
He hesitates for a second… then nods. Grateful. Tired. Trusting.
You look back at Jack.
“Wanna hang with me and Aunt Pen?”
Jack nods, you could tell how excited he was getting just by his eye lighting up . “Yes.”
So you carry him over to Garcia’s desk, her smile already waiting for the both of you.
Aaron was watching you as you walked back to Garcia’s office with Jack in your arms.
He realized he forgot to give you Jack’s bag, so he followed quietly behind.
You both stepped into Garcia’s office just as she looked up—and squealed.
“Jack Attack!” she gasped, clapping her hands.
You gently set Jack down and he ran right to her.
“Wanna help me with some very important computer things?” she asked.
“Yes!” Jack nodded, already climbing up beside her.
“Okay, hop on up here,” she told him, sliding her keyboard over.
Aaron gently tugged your arm. “Can we talk a minute?”
“Sure,” you said. Then to Garcia— “I’ll be right back, okay?”
She nodded without even turning, already showing Jack something on her screen.
Aaron handed you Jack’s bag. “Everything he might need is in there,” he said.
You took it. “How are you?”
Then you caught yourself. “Right. Stupid question. Sorry.”
He hesitated. Like he wanted to answer but didn’t know how.
“You don’t have to say anything,” you told him. “But… please let me be here for you?”
He tells you he’s okay.
You don’t buy it.
But you let it slide, because you know he’s going through a lot—and maybe okay is the only word he has right now.
“Can I—can I hug you?” you ask, quietly.
Then you shake your head. “Never mind. It’s okay. I just… I’m just trying to be here for you. And I—” He pulls you in before you can finish. It’s not long. It’s not tight. But it’s real.
“Thank you,” he says. “For helping with Jack today.
”You nod, voice soft. “You’re welcome.”
Then you turn back toward Garcia’s office. Jack’s already telling her some story with his whole heart, hands flying in the air, and she’s eating up every word like it’s the most important assignment she’s ever been assigned. You walk in and sit with them—just to be close. Just to be there. A few hours had passed , Jack had lunch he had a lunch-bull the ham and cheese with crackers in it and a juice box .. when he was done , he had climbed up on your lap , before you realized it Jack had fallen asleep on you in Penelope’s office.
She’d stepped out for a bit, left you both in the soft hum of screens and silence.
That’s when Aaron walked in. Quiet, like always.
He stopped in the doorway when he saw you—Jack curled up against your chest, sleeping peacefully.
That sight broke something in him. But he didn’t let it show.
You turned, catching him standing there. His face was tired.
“He had fun,” you said softly. “But yeah, he was tired.”
You hesitated.
“Aaron… we need to talk.”
He nodded silently and stepped forward to carefully pick Jack up from your arms.
“I haven’t told anyone else,” you said. “Because I needed to tell you first.”
Now he looked at you—really looked. Concern tightening his expression.
“I want to put in my two weeks.”
You said it gently. No drama. Just truth.
Garcia walked in right then, just in time to hear it.
“No,” she said instantly. “No. No way.”
“She’s right,” Aaron said quietly.
You handed him Jack’s bag, steadier than you felt.
“Aaron, please. Hear me out.”
He paused, eyes searching yours. Then nodded.
“Fine. Follow me.”
He turned, and the two of you headed toward the elevator—quiet footsteps, unspoken things hanging heavy in the air.
Once you both reached the elevator, you gently touched Jack’s little hand.
“Aaron, please listen.”
Your voice cracked just a little.
“This is killing me,” you said.
“Watching you like this…”
You took a breath, pushed the words out before you lost the nerve.
“I need to do this. I want to. I want to help you raise Jack.”
You tried to say it all at once, like if you hesitated you might take it back.
“I miss Haley too,” you added softly. “She was my best friend.”
Aaron didn’t speak. He just stood there, holding his son, holding all of it in.
“I know she’d want Jack—and you—to be taken care of,” you said. “And I can’t just keep watching you drown.”
“I can’t have you do that,” he said finally. Quiet. Firm.
But you looked up at him and shook your head.
“The thing is, Aaron… I’m not asking.”
“This is what I want. I love that little boy with all my heart.”
You swallowed. “I’m his godmother.”
“I know,” he said, almost a whisper.
“So let me help take care of him.”
He paused. Eyes on you, then on Jack. You didn’t expect him to break down, and he didn’t. But you saw something shift. Something soft and worn down in his silence.
“I’ll think about it,” he said.
Then, after a long beat—
“Thank you again. For today.”
Garcia found you standing there, eyes locked on the elevator doors that had just closed.
“You’re not really thinking about doing this… are you?” she asked.
“Doing what?”
Before you could say more, Rossi stepped up beside you.
“I put in my two weeks,” you said quietly.
Rossi blinked. “Kiddo… are you sure?”
You nodded once, arms folding across your chest.
“You love this job,” he reminded you.
“I know,” you said. “But Aaron needs me.”
That stopped him. For a moment, Rossi didn’t say anything.
“Kiddo,” he said again, softer this time. “I know your heart’s in the right place. But are you really sure about this?”
“I am,” you said, letting out a quiet sigh.
“Jack needs me,” you added.
“I know you’re his godmother,” Rossi said.
“Right,” you nodded. “And I want this, Rossi. I need to do this.”
He gave you a look. “Oh no, kid…”
“What?”
Garcia’s eyes widened a little. “Oh crap,” she whispered.
She wasn’t a profiler like the rest of them—but even she was picking up on it now.
“Think about this,” Rossi said gently.
“No,” you said. “My mind’s made up. If he agrees to this… I’m doing it.”
Later that evening, you were the only one left in the bullpen. The lights were dim, most of the team long gone for the night. You hadn’t even heard the elevator.
“Okay,” Aaron said behind you.
Your heart skipped. You jumped a little—turning to see him standing there, Jack at his side.
“If you really want to do this,” he said, voice low, calm like always, “then I’ll turn in your two weeks.”
You looked at him. Really looked.
“I do,” you said.
Jack reached out for you without hesitation. You stepped toward him, arms open, and Aaron handed him over without a word.
You held Jack tight, closing your eyes for a second as he tucked his head against your shoulder. Your heart was full and aching all at once. Once you saw Aaron looking at you your heart still beating fast , your eyes locked on his , you whispered thank you to him …
You walked out of the bullpen with Jack in your arms, Aaron close behind.
“The team?” he asked.
“I’ll tell them,” you said quickly. “Actually, Garcia and Rossi already know. They told me to think about it, but my mind’s made up.” You glanced over at him, steady and sure.
“They’re going to miss you,” he said softly.
“I’ll miss them, too,” you admitted, “but this is my godson and he needs me… and so do you,” you added, meeting his eyes. You hand Jack to Aaron he puts him in he’s little chair seat in the SUV , you buckle him , Jack tells you he loves you , you tell him you love him too ..
He shut the SUV door, walked around to the driver’s side, and pulled out his phone. You stayed standing there, watching him quietly.
He opened his email and sent the message.
“Well… that’s it,” he said, glancing over at you. “I just sent your two weeks to Strauss.”
You nodded slowly.
“Okay,” you whispered.
You wanted to reach for him—say something else—but you didn’t. Not yet.
Later that night, back at your apartment, everything felt quiet. Too quiet. You set your keys down and dropped onto your couch. Your hands were in your lap, but your mind was already with them—Aaron and Jack.
How would this even work?
Your phone buzzed suddenly, breaking your thoughts.
Strauss.
You didn’t even hesitate—you declined the call.
A voicemail came in right after—
[ “Can you stop by my office first thing tomorrow when you come in?”
You rolled your eyes and muttered to yourself,
“I’m not worried. Nothing’s stopping me from doing this.”
And nothing was.
You leaned back into the couch, phone in hand, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. You didn’t want to overthink it—but it was already happening.
Would you just go over when he needed you?
Would you be there all the time?
What were you even walking into?
You opened your texts and started typing without thinking:
Aaron??
How would we do this?
I wanna do this… but how would it work? Would I only come over when you need me? Or would I move in with you and Jack?
You hit send. Then you set your phone on the coffee table and sat there in the quiet, just waiting.
For him.
The next morning, you got ready like it was just another day. You checked your phone and saw five unread messages.
JJ: You're leaving the BAU?
Emily: ??? …
Spencer: you know I don’t like change …
Garcia: thought you were going to think about it …
Aaron: we’ll talk when you get in this morning
Rossi: I’m proud of you, kiddo. I’m just worried about you.
Your fingers hovered over your screen for a second. You didn’t reply to any of them.
You sat down on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone.
Was this too much for him? you wondered to yourself. Too much for everyone?
It was a chilly morning. You grabbed your favorite jacket, the one that felt like comfort, and threw it on. You grabbed your keys and headed out the door.
When you got to the BAU building, the lobby felt heavier than usual. The weight of your decision was starting to settle in your chest.
Strauss was the first person to see you.
“You’re leaving?” she asked, stepping in front of you.
You nodded.
“Is this about Aaron?”
You looked her in the eye… and lied.
“No,” you said. “It’s about Jack.”
You said it soft, but firm.
She paused, studying you. Then she gave a small nod like she understood.
“You’re a strong person,” she said. “And unique to the team. We’re definitely going to miss you.”
That shocked you a little. You weren’t expecting that.
“Thank you,” you said quietly.
“You always have a place here,” she added. “You hear me?”
You nodded again. A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down.
Then you kept walking… straight into the day that would change everything.
Once you reached the bullpen, everyone was already gathered around like they were waiting for you.
Spencer had been reading, but he looked up the second you stepped in. Aaron came over to you.
“You ready to do this?” he asked, his voice soft.
You nodded.
He walked with you toward the group. Garcia had Jack on her hip, gently rocking him. You cleared your throat.
“Hey, everyone…”
Your voice cracked a little, but you kept going.
“I guess it’s out now,” you said, trying to smile. “I put in my two weeks last night.”
“No…” Garcia said under her breath, already tearing up.
Spencer stood abruptly and walked away, down the hall. You felt your heart tug, but you stayed strong.
“I need to do this,” you said. “For Jack. Please try to understand.”
You looked around at your team — your family.
“I love this job. I really do… but I also love Jack. And I want to be here for him. For Aaron.”
You looked at Hotch for just a second. He held your gaze, unreadable.
“Please… don’t make this any harder than it already is,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
Rossi stepped forward and pulled you into a hug. He leaned down and whispered into your ear, “You need to tell him, kiddo. Before it’s too late.”
Before you could respond, JJ spoke up, “My turn,” stepping in to hug you next.
One by one, they all came to hug you — Emily, JJ, Garcia. Even Morgan gave you that soft shoulder squeeze like he knew what you weren’t saying out loud.
Everyone… except Spencer.
Aaron pulls you aside, just off to the side of the bullpen. His voice is quiet, but steady.
“So On the 19th… you’ll be living full-time with me and Jack. Is that gonna be a problem?”
You shake your head. “No.”
“Aaron… I can stay with you now,” you offer, meaning every word.
He studies your face for a moment. “So you’ll leave the team now? Instead of finishing out the two weeks?”
You nod. “Yeah. I can take Jack home now, if that’s okay.”
You glance over your shoulder toward the team. “We all said our goodbyes.”
“Everyone but Spencer,” he says, not as a question — just stating what you both know.
You pause, then whisper, “Right. I’ll be right back.”
You walk out of the bullpen and find Spencer pacing in the hallway.
“Don’t,” he says the moment he sees you. “You can’t do this.”
“I just did,” you say softly, walking toward him. “Spence, you know I have to.”
“I’m not saying goodbye forever,” you add gently.
“That’s what everyone says,” he mutters, looking down.
You try to smile, but your chest feels heavy. “Spence, you hated me when I first got here.”
“I did,” he admits. “But I care about you now. And I just… I don’t want you to go.”
“I’m sorry, Spence,” you say, barely holding it together. “But Jack… I know he needs me.”
“So do we,” he says. “Everyone’s pretending like they’re okay with this, but it’s not gonna be the same without you.”
“I know,” you whisper. You blink fast, trying not to cry — you hate crying in front of the team. In front of anyone.
“Jack and Aaron both need this,” you say, quieter now.
“I know,” Spencer replies, voice just as soft.
You step closer. He doesn’t hesitate — he pulls you into a hug.
“I’m gonna miss you,” he says.
“I’ll miss you too,” you whisper against his shoulder.
And you mean it.
Aaron and Jack find you in the hallway.
Aaron gently hands Jack over to you.
“You sure you’re ready for this today?” he asks, watching you closely.
You nod. “Yeah... I am.”
You look down at Jack in your arms. “Hey, Jack? You wanna hang out with me at home today?” you ask softly.
Jack nods, his little hand grabbing onto your shirt.
Aaron steps closer, pulling you in — careful, but still warm — with Jack resting on your hip between you both.
“You have no idea how much this means to me,” he says, his voice low.
You nod again, barely holding it together. “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?” He says …
“Be safe,” Aaron tells you, glancing at both of you like he’s trying to memorize the moment.
“You too,” you whisper, then turn to head out — Jack in your arms, your heart somewhere between full and heavy.
261 notes · View notes
foxtrology · 21 days ago
Note
prompt number 15 please 🥹❤️
dad! harry castillo
prompt 15: adella has a nightmare and crawls into bed with them. harry wakes up with her foot in his ribcage and doesn’t move
prompt list
It was sometime around 3:27 a.m. when the bedroom door creaked open.
The sound was soft—barely a whisper—but Harry Castillo, even in the depth of sleep, stirred. His body had been trained for decades to react to things that went bump in the night, the buzz of an emergency phone call, the sharp crack of thunder during a storm, the insistent ring of his assistant calling at odd hours.
But this was none of those.
This was gentler. Slower. Small.
He felt it before he saw her—the soft thump of socked feet on hardwood, the little inhale she always did before saying something important, and then the cold, delicate weight of a tiny hand pressing against his side.
“Daddy?”
His eyes opened immediately.
She was there, standing next to the bed, clutching her stuffed bunny in one hand, the sleeve of her pajama top hanging half off her shoulder. Her hair was wild, curls flattened on one side and sticking straight up on the other, and her cheeks were blotchy with sleep and something else.
He was sitting up before he even spoke. “Hey, baby.”
“I had a dream,” she whispered.
That was all she said. But it was enough.
Harry didn’t ask for details. Didn’t push. Didn’t need to.
He simply pulled back the comforter and held out his arm. “Come here.”
She climbed up immediately—one knee, then the other, the bunny coming with her—and practically threw herself against his chest like a heat-seeking missile. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Her breath hitched.
Her fingers dug in just enough to say, I was scared.
“I got you,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the top of her head.
She was still trembling slightly, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to her like static. He shifted carefully, lying back with her curled into his side, one hand smoothing down her hair in slow, steady strokes.
Across the bed, she stirred too—his wife, her face lit softly by the amber glow of the nightlight they never quite turned off anymore. She blinked, saw them, and immediately shifted without a word. One hand reached for Adella’s back, rubbing gently. A silent, knowing touch.
“She okay?” she whispered.
“She will be,” Harry said softly.
Their daughter made a small noise, somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, and burrowed deeper into her father’s side. She mumbled something unintelligible against his shirt.
“Want to stay here for the rest of the night, sweetheart?” his wife asked, brushing curls off Adella’s forehead.
A sleepy nod.
Then, very quietly, “I don’t wanna go back there.”
“You don’t have to,” Harry whispered. “You stay right here with us.”
The three of them settled, slowly, into a tangle of limbs and shared warmth.
Harry stayed on his back, arm cradling Adella like she was made of porcelain, his other hand resting near her bunny so it wouldn’t fall off the bed. She curled between them like she had a hundred times before—though less now that she was getting older—and tucked her cold feet under the comforter with all the seriousness of someone clocking in for a night shift.
The peace returned gradually.
Her breathing slowed. The tension in her shoulders eased. Her little fingers relaxed against the collar of his sleep shirt.
And then—sleep.
Soft, steady, full of safety.
She sprawled somewhere in the process, ending up half on his chest and half across the middle of the bed, one leg thrown dramatically toward her mother’s side. At some point—god only knew how—her foot landed squarely against Harry’s ribcage.
He didn’t move.
Not even when her heel dug in slightly.
Not even when the blanket slipped off his body.
Not even when his wife stifled a sleepy giggle behind her palm and whispered, “You look like a man defeated.”
He smiled, eyes closed. “I’ve been worse.”
“She’s sideways.”
“She takes after you.”
“She does not sleep sideways.”
“She did tonight.”
His wife turned her face into the pillow to muffle her laugh.
Harry opened his eyes again, just enough to look at his daughter. Her mouth had fallen open slightly, cheeks smushed against his chest, her bunny in a chokehold beneath her arm. She snored—just a little, the kind of sound that came from her nose and made her ears wiggle when she was in deep sleep.
He loved it.
All of it.
Even the foot currently wedged between two of his ribs.
Because this was fatherhood. Not the grand gestures or the picture-perfect mornings or the polished holiday cards. But this—the 3 a.m. wake-ups, the tiny voices asking for comfort, the weight of a child trusting you so fully they fell asleep on your heartbeat.
And God, he would’ve missed this.
There were nights when he still thought about that.
About how close he’d come to never knowing this kind of love.
About how, for most of his life, he had believed this wasn’t for him.
Too old. Too jaded. Too damaged.
But then she came. And then she came—his wife, the woman who never asked him to change, just made room for him to become.
Now here he was. Flat on his back in bed with a child-shaped hurricane stealing his air supply and a wife curled nearby, already half asleep again.
And he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
At some point, the night tipped forward.
Adella rolled in her sleep, dragging her bunny across his neck like a feather boa, muttering something about dragons. Her foot slipped off his rib and thumped onto the mattress instead. She curled tighter, now half on her mother’s pillow, and let out a happy sigh.
Harry shifted just enough to wrap an arm around both of them—daughter and wife—fitting himself into the crook they made together.
Outside, the rain started again. Soft, steady, like a lullaby the house had been waiting for.
Inside, Harry Castillo—known to the world as sharp, ruthless, impossible—closed his eyes again.
And in the dark, in the quiet, with his girls tangled around him and peace pressed against his chest, he smiled.
He didn’t sleep much after that.
But he didn’t need to.
Because they were here.
And that was enough.
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ot8xbangchansgirlsblog · 8 months ago
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𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣
Warning: Angst/mention of death/Blood/MPreg/MxM
A/B/O dynamics:
Omega (Han, Felix, Y/n)
Beta (Hyunjin, Seungmin, I.N)
Alpha (Chan, Changbin, Leeknow)
The series might traumatize you. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy it.
Summary - Request; I've just been reading your A/B/O series and it's so so so good. I was wondering if you would accept an ot8 request where their omega gets in trouble with another pack and Straykids are really worried?
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
"Would you like to see Han and Felix?" Hyunjin asked softly, his voice gentle as she rested against his chest. She had just gone through an intense session of cleaning her wounds, and the exhaustion was evident on her face. Her omega side, still unsettled, wasn’t allowing her to heal as quickly as she would have liked.
"C-can I see Han? I’m not sure about Felix," she murmured, glancing up at him, her eyes a little tired and distant. Hyunjin’s hands were slowly running through her hair, his touch tender and soothing.
"Why not Felix?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion as he studied her face. The uncertainty in her voice had him puzzled.
"I’m not ready to see him... just know that," she said quietly, avoiding his gaze. Her voice held a firmness, but it was clear there was more to the situation that she wasn’t ready to share.
Hyunjin felt a small shift in her scent—although it still carried that faint offness, it grew even more sour, tinged with something he couldn’t quite place.
"Alright, we don’t have to talk about it," he said softly, understanding that pressing her wasn’t going to help. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, the warmth of his lips offering a small comfort. He definitely knew the reason behind her reluctance—it was the pregnancy. He could piece it together now, the signs, the subtle shifts in her behavior. She was still processing it all, and he knew it wasn’t something she wanted to discuss just yet.
He kissed her forehead again, then slid his hand down to her lower back, rubbing soothing circles against her skin. His movements were slow and calming, trying to ease the tension in her body as she lay against him. He could feel her drifting, her body growing heavier with sleep.
"Rest now," he whispered softly. "I’ll be here when you wake up." And with that, he continued to gently caress her back, waiting patiently for her to fall into a peaceful slumber.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
"How is she doing?"
"She's gone back to sleep, Hyung," Hyunjin replied, his voice quiet as he closed Y/N's bedroom door behind him. The soft click of the door echoed in the stillness, but it did little to ease the heavy tension hanging in the air.
"Has she asked for anyone?" Leeknow’s voice trembled slightly, his posture stiff as he glanced anxiously at Hyunjin. His eyes were still a dull gray, and his concern was written all over his face. He hadn’t even tried to calm his own alpha down, knowing it would be pointless. The stress was too much, even for him.
"No, she asked for Han," Hyunjin sighed, rubbing his temples as they walked down the corridor, hand in hand. "Her wounds are taking a long time to heal. That's my worry," he continued, his tone weary and filled with concern.
"Do we need to bring one of the Umma's from the village?" Leeknow asked, looking up at the beta with desperation in his eyes. While Hyunjin was known as the best healer in the pack, the village grandmothers had been the ones tending to their kind for generations—long before Chan had taken over. They were old now, retired from their duties, but Leeknow would do whatever it took. If it meant tracking them down, he'd do it without hesitation.
"No, it’s okay, love," Hyunjin answered, giving Leeknow a soft look. "I can handle it. I just need to go through the ancestral scrolls and find something stronger." He knew that his own abilities had limits, but he was determined to make it work.
"This is serious, Hyunjin," Leeknow’s voice softened, his expression solemn. "Werewolves don't lose pups. If you need help..." He trailed off, his eyes searching Hyunjin's face, trying to gauge the weight of the situation.
For centuries, werewolves were known to have the strongest blood. Miscarriages and abortions were unheard of—something they all took for granted. This was a new, terrifying reality for Hyunjin. He’d never faced something like this before.
"Leeknow, I said it’s okay," Hyunjin snapped, his voice suddenly sharp. "Don’t question my abilities." He growled, stepping back from his alpha, frustration and fear bubbling beneath the surface.
"Hey, watch it," Leeknow’s voice darkened, a quiet warning. No one in the pack—especially not a beta—ever stepped up to him like that. Hyunjin's lip quivered at the reprimand, and finally, he broke.
"I’m sorry, Hyung," Hyunjin whispered, his shoulders sagging. "This is just so messed up. She's broken, completely... and she's slowly rejecting our bond. If she completely rejects us... we could—"
"No," Leeknow interrupted sharply, pulling Hyunjin into a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around him, trying to offer comfort. They sank down onto the bed together, Leeknow gently massaging Hyunjin’s scalp as they sat in silence. "Don't say that," he whispered, his voice cracking with fear. "We just need to find a way to get Chan in there without her... without her freaking out."
"She won’t allow it, she doesn't even want to see Felix because of the pup," Hyunjin said, his voice heavy with defeat. "Her omega is already convinced we did nothing to protect her. Don’t you feel it, babe?" He looked up at Leeknow, his eyes filled with sorrow. The burn in their marks was unmistakable—the sign that one of them was suffering deeply. In this case, it was Y/N.
"I know," Leeknow replied, his voice calm but tinged with sadness. "We’ll be okay, Hyunjin. We just need to figure out a way to keep Felix away for now." He wiped a stray tear from his cheek, trying to stay strong for both of them.
Hyunjin nodded, his hand absentmindedly rubbing the new tattoo on his arm—a symbol of the new life entering their pack. "I don’t know how she’ll handle seeing him. And he can’t seem to stop begging to see her," he said quietly. "I’m second in command, but right now, it feels like I’m failing," Leeknow sighed.
"We’re in this together," Hyunjin reassured him softly. "We just need to distract him—take him down to the streams or the village to play with the kids, or get him to do some charity work. Anything to keep him occupied."
"Yeah," Leeknow agreed, his voice low. "Right now, he's out shopping for the baby with I.N." He let out a small sigh. "At least he’s not here making things worse."
A heavy silence fell between them, thick with unspoken fears. They were still going to be dads, even though they had just lost one of their pups. The harsh reality was settling in—life had to move on, whether they were ready or not.
"Are Chan and Changbin Hyung back?" Hyunjin asked, trying to focus on something else, anything else.
"No," Leeknow replied. "They went with the hyungs to track and hunt the rogues. They told me to stay and watch over everything." So that was where Chan and Changbin had disappeared to—off with the elders, tracking rogues in the forest.
"Alright," Hyunjin said, standing up and stretching. "I’m going to go check on her again. If you find Han, tell him to come, but only if he's strong enough." Hyunjin let go of Leeknow's hand slowly, his fingers lingering for a moment.
"Okay," Leeknow said, his voice firm, though still quiet. "Be strong for me, okay? I’m just down the stairs if you need me." He gave Hyunjin a final look, his aura shifting to something darker, more protective.
"Okay, Hyung. I love you."
"I love you too," Leeknow replied, his voice soft but steady.
When Leeknow finally found Han, he was in the kitchen with Seungmin, both of them busy preparing food for their mates. The smell of freshly cooked dishes filled the room, but Leeknow wasn’t focused on that. He had something important to say.
"Hey, Hannie?" Leeknow called out, his voice soft but urgent.
Han immediately looked up, his large eyes filled with hope and concern.
"Yes, Hyung, is she okay? Does she need anything? Do you need anything?" Han stopped what he was doing, his full attention now on Leeknow, worry evident in his voice.
Leeknow paused for a moment before responding, his own heart heavy with the weight of what needed to be done.
"Babe, I think it's time for you to go try talking to her," Leeknow informed him gently but firmly.
Han's eyes widened, and he took a step back, shaking his head slightly as panic started to creep in. "Are you sure? Is it not too early? What if she panics? What if I make it worse?" His hands were shaking, his chest pounding with nerves, and he felt the pull of his omega instincts—loud and demanding.
Go. Go. Omega needs us. Mate needs us. Now.
Han's eyes flickered gold, his omega taking control, the familiar surge of instinct filling his veins.
"She needs you, Han. She needs an omega by her side," Leeknow said, his voice calm but filled with quiet conviction. "I believe in you."
Han didn’t hesitate any longer. His omega instincts were too strong, and his heart ached knowing Y/N needed him. He quickly gathered his thoughts and began to pack away the food, giving Seungmin a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving for upstairs.
The walk to her door felt like an eternity. His mind raced, unsure of what to say or do. He grabbed anything he could find—clothes from different rooms—knowing he needed to build a nest for her. He was determined to make her feel safe, to make her feel loved.
When Han finally reached the door, the room was dark, the only light coming from a dimly lit lamp on the nightstand. Y/N was in the center of the bed, Hyunjin holding her close, his hand gently stroking her hair. Han stood there for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before Hyunjin looked up at him and nodded, signaling for him to come closer.
Y/N stirred as she felt a new presence in the room. Her senses were sharp, and as soon as she caught the new scent—one that was familiar and comforting—her heart skipped. She didn’t know what to expect. The fear of rejection still clung to her. She was certain that they might hate her now, that they might blame her.
When her golden eyes met Han’s, all her worries seemed to collapse. Without thinking, she bolted upright, her hands reaching out toward him. The moment their eyes met, her tears began to fall freely, her body shaking with the weight of her emotions.
"Hannie," she sobbed, her voice breaking as she reached for him. "Please... I don’t know if you’re angry at me... Please don’t hate me."
Han’s heart shattered at the sight of her, her vulnerability hitting him harder than he expected. He wasted no time. Without a second thought, he crawled into the bed beside her, throwing the clothes he had gathered into Hyunjin’s hands. He wrapped his arms around her, scenting her gently but urgently. He wanted to erase any trace of the pain and trauma still clinging to her scent, to make her feel safe and loved again.
"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice hoarse as she clung to him, desperately needing his presence, his comfort.
"Shhh," Han murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "There’s no reason for you to apologize. This is not your fault." He cupped her face gently, staring deep into her eyes, his own eyes filled with sorrow. "I’m so sorry this happened to you," he whispered, placing a tender kiss on her forearm. All she could do was cry. She had missed him so much.
"I love you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of the words was clear.
"I love you too," Han replied, his voice firm and full of resolve. "Forever, okay? I’m never letting you out of my sight. Whoever did this to you... I hope Chan Hyung rips their head off and keeps it as a trophy."
Y/N couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath, her scent slightly souring as she pulled him closer. "I’m okay now, Han. I promise," she whispered, trying to convince herself as much as him. "As long as I’m back home, that’s all that matters now."
Han’s heart twisted with guilt. She wasn’t angry at them, wasn’t holding any of this against them. She was trying so hard to stay strong, even though it was clear that she was breaking inside. He just couldn’t understand why she wasn’t angry with them for not protecting her, for not doing more. But right now, none of that mattered. He just wanted to hold her. He just wanted her to feel safe.
He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair, allowing himself to just feel her. "I’m not going anywhere, Y/N," he whispered.
"I'm sitting right in the corner if you need me," Hyunjin said softly, his voice laced with concern as he sat quietly by the door.
Y/N sniffled, her eyes swollen from the tears she had cried. She looked up at him, her face twisted with a mixture of exhaustion and vulnerability. "Hyunjinnie, go get some real rest," she urged, her voice gentle but firm. "Eat something, take a hot shower, and nap. I promise, I’m right here with Han."
Hyunjin shook his head, his eyes soft but unwavering. "Y/N, I told you I wouldn’t leave."
She sighed, her gaze softening as she reached for his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "You’re not leaving," she assured him, her voice growing steadier. "I’m right here with Han. You’ve been working nonstop, looking after everyone. Please, take care of yourself; I promise nothing will happen."
Hyunjin stood still for a moment, taken aback by how calm and composed she sounded now. It gave him a flicker of hope, but the worry still gnawed at him. He felt the weight of everything, the endless worry and exhaustion, but hearing Y/N speak so firmly made him feel a bit more confident in leaving her alone for a while. Still, he hesitated.
"Okay... I’ll be back in a bit," Hyunjin finally said, his voice a bit strained. "Han, if anything happens, call me." His eyes lingered on Y/N one last time before he leaned down to kiss both of them on the forehead.
"I will, trust me, Hyung," Han reassured, his voice calm but filled with an undercurrent of concern. Hyunjin gave one last glance to the pair, the tension in his chest easing slightly. As he exited the room, he felt a small sense of relief knowing Y/N was opening up to Han. That was a step in the right direction.
Once the door clicked shut behind him, Han let out a slow breath, turning back to Y/N. His voice softened, almost a whisper, as he gazed down at her. "Baby," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "How come I can't feel you in the bond anymore?" The question had been haunting him for hours, and now it was out in the open.
Y/N’s eyes flickered, her breath hitching as she looked up at him. The bond between them had been a silent connection, one that had always been there, pulsing with warmth and reassurance. But now... it was nothing but a cold, distant feeling.
"I don't want you to feel my pain," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Felix is pregnant... That would put a strain on him, and I just can't handle the alphas right now. I don't want to deal with all of it." She closed her eyes, trying to keep herself composed, but the ache in her chest was impossible to ignore.
Han’s heart ached as he gently ran his fingers through her hair, his touch soft and soothing. "Oh, but you know that Chan and the alphas never meant to hurt you," he said quietly. "They’ve been beating themselves up over it, not forgiving themselves for what happened. They’ve been looking for you nonstop, Y/N."
"I don’t want to talk about it," she whispered, shaking her head, her body tense against him. "Haven’t I been through enough?" Her voice trembled as she nuzzled her face into his collarbone, seeking solace in his scent.
Han paused, the weight of her words sinking in. "Yes, you have," he said softly, his voice filled with guilt. "I’m sorry." He held her close, his heart heavy with the knowledge that she was still carrying the weight of everything that had happened. "But you’ll have to face Felix eventually," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "He’s been really worried about you."
Y/N stiffened at the mention of Felix, her hands instinctively moving to her stomach. The emptiness that had settled in her chest the moment they lost their pup seemed to fill her again, like an overwhelming wave of grief. "I’m just not ready," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can’t bear to see him carrying our pup."
Han’s heart clenched painfully at her words. "Our pup," he corrected softly, as though trying to remind her, to ground her in the reality that they still had a future, that they still had each other. "Don’t forget... you’re still the mother of that baby." The words felt heavy, but they needed to be said.
Y/N shuddered, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks as she turned her face away from him. "Han, please... enough," she pleaded, her voice trembling with the weight of it all. "I can’t take it."
"Shhh," Han whispered, pulling her closer into his embrace. His heart was breaking at the sight of her distress, and guilt gnawed at him for bringing it all up. "It’s okay, get some rest." He gently rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know I’ve made it worse."
The guilt in his chest was suffocating, and his omega instincts were furious at him for making her cry, for causing her even more pain.
"Please... be patient with me," she murmured, her voice barely audible now as she drifted into a fitful sleep, the exhaustion from everything weighing her down.
Han stayed still, watching her with pained eyes, his hand resting gently on her back. As she slowly drifted off, he kissed her forehead softly, his heart breaking in his chest. "I’m so sorry," he whispered to her, his voice full of love and regret. "I’ll be here. Always."
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
"Where's Han?" was the first question I.N asked when they all sat down for dinner. His eyes quickly scanned the room, but the empty seat beside him didn’t go unnoticed.
"He's upstairs with Y/n," Hyunjin answered, clearing his throat, trying to keep his tone casual.
"He's with Y/n?" Felix perked up immediately, his eyes widening in surprise. "How come? Did she ask for me?" His voice was hopeful, almost eager, but it was clear he didn’t fully understand the situation.
Hyunjin glanced over at Lee Know, seeking some help in explaining the situation. Lee Know, sensing the tension, stepped in.
"S-she… uh, right now we just don’t want to overwhelm her, so we sent Han in to check on her," Hyunjin said, his voice faltering slightly. He couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang of guilt in his chest for lying, even if it was to keep things calm.
"Oh..." Felix frowned, his shoulders slumping. "Can I go in next?" he asked, his voice filled with concern, his food now completely forgotten. The worry in his tone was impossible to ignore.
"How about we finish dinner first?" Lee Know interjected smoothly, "Then we’ll see if she’s awake."
Felix nodded reluctantly, but let out a sigh of frustration. "Okay, that's fine. I just really hope she’s okay," he muttered, looking down at his untouched plate.
"How was shopping?" Hyunjin asked, eager to change the subject and distract everyone from the tension surrounding Y/n.
"It was okay," Felix replied, though he seemed distracted. "I just wish you guys could’ve come. I wonder when Chan and Changbin-hyung will be back," he pouted, poking at his food absentmindedly.
"Eat, babe, you haven’t been eating," I.N scolded softly, noticing how little Felix had touched his meal. Felix let out a tiny whimper, not expecting to be called out.
"I’m not hungry…" Felix mumbled, his gaze shifting from his food to his mates.
"Eat," Seungmin teased, his voice light but firm. "I worked hard on this."
Felix couldn’t help but smile, the teasing tone breaking through his mood. "Okay, for you, I will," he replied, taking a small bite of his food, though his mind was clearly still elsewhere.
The room went silent again as everyone fell into their own thoughts, the tension still lingering like an unspoken weight.
Suddenly, Lee Know’s posture stiffened, and his chopsticks clattered to the table as he stood up abruptly. His instincts were on high alert as he felt the bond feel heavy. His alpha was urging him to go outside.
Someone was on their territory.
"They’re home," he said, his voice sharp with urgency.
Without waiting for anyone else, he bolted for the door, his footsteps echoing through the house.
"Hyung wait up!" Hyunjin was right behind him, and the rest of the group slowly stood up, following in a mix of confusion and concern.
When Lee Know reached the driveway, his eyes went wide. He saw Chan and Changbin coming down the path, both of them covered in blood, their faces exhausted and drained. Their clothes were torn, and it was clear they had just been through something rough.
"What the hell?" Lee Know gasped, rushing to support Chan, while Hyunjin quickly stepped in to help Changbin.
"What happened?" Hyunjin asked, his voice tight with worry, his hand resting on Changbin's shoulder to steady him.
Chan gave a weary glance at his mates, blood dripping from a cut on his arm, but his lips remained pressed into a thin line as if he wasn’t sure whether to explain or keep quiet. The silence between them only deepened the worry growing in the others.
Lee Know glanced at Hyunjin, his expression grim. "We need to get them inside," he muttered, helping Chan to steady himself as they slowly made their way inside. The rest of the group followed behind, trying to make sense of the situation but knowing it would have to wait until later.
"we killed them."
well...fuck.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
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tinyundercover · 1 month ago
Text
cassie! (part 2)
read part one here <3
word count: 3.4k
Cassie glanced up in surprise at the feeling of a warm, gentle hand, resting on her left shoulder. From her cross-legged seat on the floor, she peered up at a dark blue jacket and a soft expression from the borrower who had kindly offered his home to her.
“The storm stopped,” Pepper said, softly.
She blinked, processing his words. Her hand still held a thick piece of pencil lead, which she had been using to draw a wobbly sketch of her mother, but the lead began to slip out of her loosening grip. “What?”
Her quiet voice cracked on the singular word. She had barely said anything since Felix and Pepper had rescued her yesterday, both from fear and exhaustion. The terrifying ordeal of being caught by Felix had ripped any last energy from her body, and although Felix (and the strange but kind-hearted borrower Pepper, who had miraculously shown up an hour later in a startling fury) had turned out to be kind, Cassie couldn’t help but shake and wobble every time he looked at her. After eating the food that Felix had offered her, Pepper had brought Cassie back to his home, and the comforting dark walls had almost immediately pulled Cassie into the heaviest, longest sleep of her life. This morning, so far, had been a slow, gentle, quiet one.
Pepper dropped his hand away, and Cassie almost missed it, despite the fact that he was a stranger and she logically should be afraid of him, too. The overwhelming relief of seeing another person her size, however, had crushed any survival instincts she may have had.
“The storm outside,” Pepper explained, tipping his head towards the wall. “It slowed down this morning, and it stopped a little bit ago. It’s gonna be sunny for the rest of the day.”
Cassie’s throat tightened. She realized abruptly that she could no longer hear the dull thrum of a downpour outside, a sound she had been used to hearing for over three days. A warm, bright feeling found its way into her stomach and chest, gripping at her lungs. “It’s… oh, wow.”
She stumbled to her feet at a startling pace, surprising even Pepper, who took an alarmed step back. Just as she spun towards the door, a wave of light-headedness struck her, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “Ow.”
Pepper laughed gently, a sympathetic expression crossing his dark eyes. “We’ll go in a minute, okay? You need to eat something first.”
Cassie had already eaten the grape that Felix had offered her, followed by the corner of a cracker she had never tried before, but she couldn’t deny that her long period of hunger was already nibbling at her stomach again. She chewed her lip, staring longingly at the door.
“You’re not gonna be able to find your mom easily if you’re fainting,” Pepper offered, and Cassie let out a wobbly sigh. She nodded in defeat.
She wasn’t accustomed to eating anything other than fruits and vegetables from the garden, so the food that Pepper and Felix offered her was a pleasant surprise. She took a few more bites of the cracker, and with Pepper’s permission she crammed the rest of it into her satchel, brightened by the idea that she could share it later with her mother.
Within minutes she was trekking behind Pepper as they made their way through the walls. He clearly knew the layout far better than she did, and she struggled to keep up on her short legs, winding around corners and bumping into walls. By the time a sliver of light appeared in the form of a thin exit, an alarming thought crossed her mind, and she halted. “Wait.”
Pepper’s jacket creased and folded as he turned to look at her, one hand on the wall. “What’s up?”
She furrowed her brow, raising a small hand to brush a thin curl out of her face. “Are we on the counter?”
Pepper blinked down at her, glancing briefly towards the opening. He hesitated, voice slow as he replied, “yes.”
“Wh…” she blinked, struggling to understand, a familiar fear beginning to tug at her chest. “Because… why?”
She wasn’t sure how to form her words. An explanation was piecing itself together in her mind, and she recognized uncomfortably that she and Pepper hadn’t shared much of a plan. It seemed that they weren’t quite on the same page of how she was going to reunite with her mother.
Pepper seemed to be having a similar realization, his lip drawn between his teeth. He glanced once again at the opening, and Cassie watched silently as he brought his hands to a clasp against his chest, brow furrowed. 
“Is Felix gonna take me to my mom?” Cassie asked quietly.
Pepper’s shoulders dropped, expression unreadable as he peered down at Cassie. “Well… that’s the plan, yes.” His voice was just as soft as it had been all day, but a thick layer of guilt had buried itself into his words. “I’m sorry, I thought— well, I thought you knew.”
The cold feeling inside of Cassie stayed wrapped around her lungs, hard and unwavering. She blinked rapidly, and her head shook in refusal before she even processed it.
“He’s— I know he’s a little scary, but he’s really not going to hurt you,” Pepper was saying quickly, but she wasn’t really taking it in.
Yesterday had been more than enough time to have spent with Felix. Deep in her chest, Cassie truly believed that he didn’t have intentions to harm her— he had had plenty of chances to kill her yesterday, and not only did he offer her food, but he actually sent her away to stay with his nice borrower acquaintance. It didn’t seem to be something a villain would do, but then again, Cassie had been under the impression that she wouldn’t ever return to his apartment again, let alone be held by him. She had thought Pepper would handle everything. He had seemed gentle and responsible, and best of all, he wasn’t a thousand times her size.
“But— but…” Cassie’s voice tremored. “He’s a human.”
“I know,” Pepper confessed, shoulders hunching to bring himself closer to the small girl. His hand returned to her shoulder, warm and comforting. “I know, and it’s scary, but I’ve known him for a long time now. I was scared of him for a while, but I promise, you can trust him.”
“I…” Cassie’s mouth was dry. She dropped her nervous gaze.
“You said you live in a big garden, right? Felix knows where that is. It would take the two of us hours to find it, but Felix can take us there in minutes.”
At his words, a fraction of Cassie’s icy fear melted. “You— you’re coming, too?”
“Oh, yeah.” Pepper nodded, leaning closer. “Of course.”
Cassie took a shaky breath, processing that information. She wasn’t going to be left alone with a human again, it seemed. And, if what Pepper said was true, Felix would be able to bring Cassie to the garden much faster than Pepper could.
It made sense, she acknowledged with an anxious frown. Humans were as terrifyingly fast as they were big.
She wanted to refuse. The very thought of being swept up into a powerful hand made her want to turn and run— but the thought of her mother’s face brought a flurry of emotions, almost too much to handle. She sniffled. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Pepper confirmed, gently, and she nodded.
“Okay,” she repeated, dropping her head until her light curls nearly concealed her face.
It took a few minutes of Pepper’s comforting voice to calm her down, and when the two of them finally approached the exit, she was nearly overwhelmed by a wave of lightheadedness again. Her eyes remained squeezed shut as Pepper led her out onto the counter by a hand. 
“Hi, Cassie.”
When she opened her eyes, she found herself squinting at the smooth countertop and her small, worn boots. Her breath shook as she tentatively lifted her gaze, glancing from Pepper’s thick, blue jacket to the human standing before her.
Felix’s terrifying gaze was, admittedly, gentle as he peered down at her. His sand-colored hair didn’t seem to be as neat as yesterday, strands falling out of place, and Cassie wondered if he had gotten as good of a night’s sleep as she did. His dizzyingly enormous shoulders took up almost the entirety of her vision, wrapped in a soft, lavender cardigan. His arms were crossed, concealing his hands from view. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. “Hi,” she responded, barely audible.
She watched as Pepper and Felix shared a look, a silent conversation she clearly wasn’t meant to be a part of, and Pepper’s head tilted forward invitingly. “We’re all ready to go,” he offered, voice clear and warm.
Her heart jumped anxiously, nervous green gaze flickering to Felix, as if he might take that as an invitation to snatch the two of them up immediately. His shoulders only shifted, and his hands didn’t appear.
“Did you sleep okay?” Felix asked, and while Cassie took a moment to appreciate his quiet tone of voice, she didn’t really process that he was acknowledging her. 
A moment of silence stretched on, and she blinked in recognition. She briefly glanced up at Pepper, as if her fellow borrower might answer for her, but she was only met with a similarly expectant expression. 
“Good,” she responded finally, shifting on her feet. Her stomach fluttered as Felix tipped his head forward to hear better, but once again, his hands made no appearance. “Um… I— I slept good.”
She didn’t have much else to say, so she allowed her voice to taper off into silence, taking an uneasy step back. Felix nodded, blue gaze soft and surprisingly inviting. “Good… listen, I’m really sorry for scaring you yesterday.”
Pepper’s hand remained clasped in Cassie’s, and she felt him shift a bit at Felix’s words. The small girl glanced between the two men, brow knit. “It’s okay,” she responded, finding a small bit of confidence buried deep in her chest. “You didn’t mean to.”
“Would it be okay for me to hold you again?”
Cassie’s shoulders twitched at that. “Um…” she whipped her gaze back to Pepper, stomach twisting. 
“It’s okay,” Pepper whispered, tightening his grip on her hand. She swallowed thickly.
“Yeah,” she finally relented, voice thin and strained. “That’s okay.”
Felix blinked, as if he was expecting more resistance from the small girl. He opened his mouth to respond, but Cassie startled herself by speaking first, her words stumbling over each other like an avalanche. “I just— I just— I want to see my— my mom.”
She drew in a shuddering breath, watching as Pepper and Felix shared another private expression. 
“Oh, Cassie,” Pepper murmured, releasing Cassie’s hand to wrap around her shoulders. She leaned into him, heart racing, eyes wet. “Let’s get going.”
——
Placing herself in a hand five times her size was not the easiest task for Cassie— but her mother’s face in her mind, begging her to come home, was convincing enough for her to try.
Her tiny boot wobbled as she stepped onto the edge of Felix’s palm. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t very sturdy, and she threw her arms out in alarm, catching herself before she toppled over.
A rosy blush crossed her face, and she tried to hide her embarrassment. Pepper had already stepped onto Felix’s hand without any issue, demonstrating how easy it was for him to trust such a massive human, and he was now sitting cross-legged in the center of Felix’s palm, patiently watching Cassie. He hadn’t stumbled in the slightest. How often did Felix hold him?
She let out a heavy exhale, focusing on her boots again. She let herself be comforted by Pepper’s warm gaze, and the thought of her mother, waiting for her. The strangeness of this situation could be put aside.
With a determined expression she lifted her other boot, wobbled, and planted it down on Felix’s palm. She could feel two pairs of eyes on her— one uncomfortably large— and took two more steps forward until she was standing next to Pepper. Seconds later she had successfully knelt down, grabbing onto Pepper’s shoulder for balance, and finally crossed her legs into a seated position.
She took another shaky breath, ignored the massive curled fingers behind her, and blinked up at Felix.
It was instinctively alarming to see him from this angle, to look up past his wrist, all the way up the sleeve of his cardigan. It was terrifying to know that he quite literally held her life in a single hand— but Pepper clearly trusted him, and Pepper was unharmed. She swallowed, and unable to speak, gave a tiny thumbs up.
Felix, admittedly, seemed to be nervous as well. His expression was focused, delicately glancing between the two borrowers. “Are you ready to go?”
Thankfully, Pepper responded, so Cassie didn’t have to. “Yep. We’re all good.”
As soon as Felix’s hand moved, Cassie let out a sharp gasp, grabbing Pepper’s wrist. Felix immediately paused, fingers twitching. “Do you need a second?”
“No, no.” Cassie screwed her eyes shut momentarily, a rosy flush crossing her face. “Go ahead.”
Pepper rubbed her shoulder comfortingly as Felix continued, drawing the borrowers close to his chest. Cassie tried to ignore the world spinning around her, gaze locked on her soft dress, her hands gripped tight into the pale fabric.
Being held by a human as he walked was another ordeal. Felix offered a soft, gentle apology as Cassie yelped, shrinking close to Pepper, alarmed by the sharp movement of the world around her.
“We’re gonna hide in his pocket, okay?” Pepper murmured to the girl as Felix approached the front door, his free hand resting on the door handle. Cassie furrowed her brow, heart racing. 
“Huh?”
Felix lifted his hand, and Cassie blinked at him, tense hands threatening to rip through the fabric of her dress. 
“There are other humans in the building,” Felix explained quietly, his voice a warm breeze. “If I put you in my pocket, then you don’t have to worry about anybody seeing you.”
“It might be less scary, too,” Pepper mused. Cassie nodded, slowly, throat tight.
“Okay. That’s okay.”
She nearly flinched when Felix’s thumb appeared, brushing against her shoulder, but she abruptly registered that it was a comforting gesture. With a shaky breath she placed her hand on his thumb, so tiny in comparison, and his face softened further. 
Pepper’s presence was a comfort to Cassie as the two of them were slipped into the knitted pocket of Felix’s cardigan. To Cassie’s surprise, Felix’s hand remained in the pocket with them, cupping them both in warmth.
“Are you actually doing okay?” Pepper questioned, leaning back against the large curve of Felix’s fingers. Cassie chewed her lip.
“Yeah, I think so,” she admitted, absentmindedly brushing her hands over her dress. “I… yeah. This is just… crazy.”
Pepper let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah. I get it.” 
They fell into silence, and as Cassie listened to Felix’s footsteps outside, she couldn’t help but ask, “How… did you meet Felix?”
Pepper didn’t respond at first, fingers drumming over his knee. “It’s… kind of a long story.” He tilted his head towards the smaller girl. “But trust me, I know it’s crazy. I really didn’t think I’d ever be friends with a human, but Felix really cares about me. About us.” He smiled. “I promise.”
Cassie tentatively smiled back, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Okay.” She glanced away. “I feel bad for being so scared yesterday.”
“Oh.” Pepper blinked. “Oh, Cassie, you don’t have to be. It’s normal to be scared.”
“You’re not scared of him.”
“I’ve known him for a long time,” Pepper pointed out. “But I was scared for a long time, too. It’s normal, and being scared of humans is what keeps you safe.”
She exhaled, and he brought his hand to her shoulder once again. 
“When I first met Felix, I bit him,” Pepper offered, and Cassie snorted.
“What?”
“I did.” Pepper laughed, rubbing her shoulder, and she giggled. “So don’t worry— Felix understands that you’re scared. He’s not mad at you.”
”Okay.” She took a deep breath, nodding. “Okay.”
The rest of the trip was shockingly fast. While Cassie was expecting hours, Felix’s hand scooped them up and drew them out of his pocket in a matter of minutes. She twitched in surprise, finding herself surrounded by sunlight.
Not just sunlight— the garden.
Her heart lurched. It looked different from such a high angle, but it was undoubtedly her home. Tall green plants swayed, massive leaves stretching open to take in the warm sunlight after days of rain. The effects of the rain lingered in the form of a thin mist, drops of condensation falling from round red tomatoes and white flowers. An enormous wooden gate surrounded the garden, and Felix stood at the entrance.
“Is this the place?” He asked, and Cassie let out a weak gasp.
“How— how did— how did you find it?” She straightened her shoulders, wide eyes taking in the familiar plants and the scent of freshly rained-on soil. Her mother was in there, in their home beside the blueberry bush, just along the right side of the fence. 
“This is the only community garden in the area,” Felix explained, his thumb brushing over Cassie’s shoulder again, and she gripped it excitedly. 
She spun around to face Felix fully, eyes wide, a bright feeling wrapped around her chest. “Thank you,” she exclaimed, voice shuddering. “Thank you.”
She sniffled, throwing her entire body against his thumb and hugging it. She wished she could actually hug him, the way he deserved, but his size, of course, was a bit of an obstacle. It was his incredible size that he was even able to get her here at all, she supposed, and she let out a watery-eyed, exhausted laugh, beaming up at him. 
“Oh,” Felix expressed, heart melted. “It’s okay— thank you for trusting me. You’re really brave.”
She sniffled, pulling an arm away to rub at her eyes. Immediately she threw herself into Pepper’s arms as well, laughing at the startled noise he made, and gripped his blue jacket tight. “Thank you!”
Pepper clearly hadn’t been expecting the hug, but he embraced her nonetheless, a hand resting on the back of her light brown curls. “You’re awesome, Cassie.”
She giggled, unable to conceal her onslaught of emotions as Felix knelt down. His hand had barely touched the grass by the time Cassie leapt off of his palm, the familiar feeling of soil under her boots making her beam. She spun around, eyes wet.
“Can you come visit sometime?” She begged, glancing between Pepper’s warm laugh and Felix’s startled expression.
“You’d want that?”
At Felix’s question, Cassie nodded rapidly, clasping her hands together. “Please!”
It was a very strange feeling, to want to spend time with a human again. She still couldn’t fathom his massive size or equally his shocking gentleness, but she knew deep in her chest that this couldn’t be the last time she saw Felix or Pepper again.
When Pepper and Felix both responded with a warm, “Of course,” Cassie nearly melted with relief. 
Saying goodbye to the two of them was difficult, but knowing that her mother was just around the corner made it easier for Cassie. Weaving her way through the familiar green stems brought back a comfortable feeling that the small girl had missed, and she wiped at her eyes, giggling to herself.
The gentle expression of a small angel statue greeted her, inviting her back. Sunlight dappled over the ground like a pathway, and as Cassie turned the corner into the stone entrance of her home, she couldn’t help but let a few tears fall. 
“Cassie!”
Warmth enveloped Cassie. With a shaky sob, the small girl dug her hands into the blonde hair and linen dress and pulled herself further into her mother’s embrace.
--
and then pepper kicked felix's ass for scaring her
i hope you enjoyed this story!! <3 i'm so excited to be back! :)
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7s3ven · 1 year ago
Text
DRIVING LESSONS. luke (pjo)
Normal! Au
( master list )
IN WHICH… Luke attempts to teach Percy how to drive and, in the process, almost crashes into Luke’s long time crush. But maybe he can spin it in his favor.
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Luke was like an older brother to many. He had warm and comforting aura that people seemed to gravitate towards.
“Don’t get hurt, seaweed brain.” Annabeth warned Percy, pointing a stern finger at him. Luke chuckled as he leaned against the hood of his shiny car. Percy needed driving lessons and Luke was more than happy to help. Though, he knew he was going to regret it. Annabeth and Sally were both too terrified to teach Percy but Luke was up for the challenge.
“Turn on your blinker, Percy.” Luke reminded the teenage boy for the fifth time.
“My what?” Percy only stared at Luke in utter confusion.
“Your turn signal. And keep your eyes in the road!” Luke exclaimed as another car whizzed past, narrowly avoiding crashing into them. Percy immediately glued his eyes back to the view in front of him, sheepishly smiling.
"Sorry." He whispered.
“Turn slowly here.” Luke instructed, nodding when Percy finally remembered to press his blinker. Percy turned painfully slow, matching the speed of a sloth, and Luke held back an annoyed groan.
“So, when did you start driving?” Percy asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Luke shrug.
“I’m not sure. Around your age or a little older.” Luke was in his twenties now, already having secured a well-paying job which helped pay for half of Annabeth’s tuitions. The other half was paid by a scholarship she earned.
“Have you met any cute girls?”
Luke lightly snorted, grinning in amusement. “Why are you asking me that, Percy? You know I can see how you look at Annabeth. I should be asking you how it’s going with her.”
Percy and Annabeth had always been stuck between friends and lovers and it was driving Luke insane. He wanted to shove the two of them together and demand they admit their feelings.
“Okay, but have you met any cute girls?” Percy was persistent, which suited his given name. Luke scoffed, tilting his head back. He had but he didn’t want to admit it to Percy. How was he supposed to tell Percy that he was still in love with the same girl from high school?
He thought he was over his feelings but he saw her in a coffee shop one day and everything came flooding back. Their playful flirting, their late night rants as they lay in each other’s arms while listening to Luke’s playlist, and that kiss they shared in their last year. Annabeth was already calling Luke a loser for liking her again, he didn’t need Percy doing the same.
“I guess.” Luke finally answered. “I’m not really attached to any of them, though.” Because his mind was always on Y/N, his high school sweetheart.
“Are you gay?” Percy asked out of the blue, causing Luke to choke in surprise.
“Am I- No! I’m not gay, Percy! I like girls but I wouldn’t date any of the girls I meet!”
“Is it because you’re still obsessed with her?”
Luke knew who he was talking about. He clicked his tongue, giving Percy the indirect answer that he needed. Percy wasn’t so clueless after all.
In all Luke’s years of babysitting Annabeth and Percy, he had only brought one girl over, who happened to be Y/N. They were working on a school project but Annabeth still liked to tease him about the way he gazed at Y/N.
Percy made the mistake of tearing his eyes away from the road again. “Percy!” Luke shouted as soon as he spotted someone walking across the pedestrian crossing, “Eyes on the road!” Percy, in a panic, slammed his foot against the break. The car screeched to an abrupt halt and both boys were sent flying forward. If it weren't for their seat belts, they would've crashed through the windshield.
There was a soft knock on Luke’s window and he turned his head, mortified to see the very girl he was just thinking about. The brunette slowly rolled the window down, thickly gulping.
“Hey.” Y/N greeted him, resting her arms on the sill, “You know, people usually stop at the crossing. They don’t almost run someone over.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. It’s his first time and he’s still pretty nervous.” Luke jabbed a thumb in Percy’s direction. The blond boy was sweating, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He sent Y/N an apologetic smile.
“Oh, Percy. I haven’t seen you in a while.” Y/N grinned at him, “You’ve grown up so fast. Last time I saw you, you were smashing into walls.” Percy’s cheeks heated up at the memory. “Glad to see you still have that habit. Though, instead of walls now, it seems you like to crash into people. You weren't thinking of committing a hit and run, right?"
“How have you been, Y/N?” Luke changed the subject to spare Percy from the embarrassment of Y/N’s teasing remarks. “You disappeared after high school. And the last time I saw you was in a cafe. I barely had time to ask.”
“I went to university in Europe.”
“And you got your law degree, I assume?”
“Conjoint, actually. I majored in law with a minor in psychology.”
Luke whistled, impressed. He barely passed university. “So, what are you doing now?”
“Well, I was taking a calming walk before I almost got killed.” She chuckled, an amused glimmer flashing in her eyes. Percy sank deeper into Luke’s leather car seat. “If you need help with teaching Percy to drive, I’d be happy to help. You look like you need it.” She fished out a card from her purse, handing it over to Luke. “I changed my number, by the way. That’s my personal one. Feel free to contact me, Luke.”
She bid the pair farewell and once she was out of earshot, Percy and Luke turned to face each other.
“Oh my gosh, she gave you her number!”
“Bro, I got her number!”
It was safe to say that Luke spent the rest of the terrifying car ride feeling elated despite being tossed around in the vehicle with Percy and almost throwing up once or twice.
Luke was dreading the next day with Percy because the young boy was not a good driver. At all. Not only had Percy narrowly avoided crashing into a pole and took off one of Luke’s mirrors in the process, but they also got chased by the cops for going over the speeding limit. Twice. And he couldn't forget how they almost killed Y/N.
Luke was thinking of ditching Percy but he was technically Annabeth’s boyfriend, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
His phone buzzed and his eyes darted to the screen for a split second. He looked back at the road, quickly stomping his foot onto the break. His heart sank for the second time this week. This was not how he wanted to meet Y/N again.
Y/N was teasingly grinning as she made her way over to his window. She knocked on it, bending down to match his height. “Hey, Luke.” She uttered, clicking her tongue. She playfully pursed her lips as she watched Luke sigh, his head resting against the wheel. “You and Percy seem to have one thing in common. Almost crashing into me.”
Luke’s cheeks flushed bright pink. “I didn’t mean to… I swear.” He uttered.
“It’s fine, Luke. As long as you don’t actually hit me. Because if you do, I will run you over too.” Y/N smiled, acting as if she didn’t just whisper a threat in Luke’s ear.
“I’m actually going to pick up Percy right now. Do you want to, uh, join me? I might throw up less with you around. Partly in fear of embarrassing myself.” Luke chuckled to himself while Y/N huffed in amusement.
“As long as I don’t land in hospital, I’m up for it.”
“No promises.”
Y/N climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind her. She tilted her head to the side as she picked up a Lancôme lipstick. “I never took you as lipstick person, Luke.” She joked, holding up the tube.
“It’s Clarisse’s.” He said. Despite their differences, the two were quite close in high school. And they still were.
“You two dating already? Everybody shipped you two.” Y/N chuckled, turning her head to look at Luke.
“We’re just friends.” Luke said.
“Oh, come on. You must like a girl. Who’s the lucky one, huh?”
You, Luke almost said.
“I’m not interested in any girls right now.” He said instead. Y/N quirked an eyebrow.
“Are you gay? Wait, I kissed you while you were gay?!” Y/N gasped while Luke wildly shook his head.
“Why does everyone think I’m gay?!” He exclaimed.
"You've never dated anyone, Luke. It makes people think things." Y/N chuckled as leaned back in her seat. "I remember when everybody thought you and Chris were an item. Your fangirls were devastated. It was hilarious."
"What about you?" Luke asked, "How did... you feel?" Y/N faltered. She slowly turned her head to look at Luke before shyly diverting her gaze.
"I was more preoccupied with laughing over the sad girls with my friends." She uttered, "But I had a feeling you weren't gay. Your fashion sense back then was a dead give away that you were straight."
Luke clicked his tongue, "Was that meant to be an insult or a compliment?"
Y/N silently shrugged, flashing him a small grin. "A bit of both, I think."
Silence eventually settled between the pair. The car engine quietly hummed and Y/N glanced out the window as the radio played a soft melody. She thickly gulped as Luke pulled into Percy's driveway, a little disappointed they'd no longer be alone.
"Y/N." Luke quickly turned to her as soon as he pulled the keys out of his car. She met his gaze, confused as she gestured for him to continue. She watched as Luke took a deep breath. "Do you remember when I asked you if you had a partner for prom?"
"Of course. I went with Jake."
"I know that. But do you remember when you told me about Jake and I looked a little sad?" Luke was usually straight-forward with his sentences but he couldn't find the right words in this moment. Y/N slightly tilted her head.
"Yeah... you looked crushed." She said in a joking tone, causing Luke to gently chuckle.
"I looked sad because... I wanted to ask you out. Because I liked you. And I didn't ask anyone else out or accept any other offers because you were the only person I wanted to go with. And when you kissed me in our senior year, I couldn't feel happier, even if it was only because you wanted to feel a teen romance. And when you left... I didn't leave my room for ages. Annabeth had to drag me out. I was scared that you would find another person and I didn't want you to leave me behind."
Y/N gazed at him in silence. Luke cleared his throat, nodding his face. "I shouldn't have said anything... sorry. All those things were ancient history. I don't even know why I brought it up."
"What about you?" Y/N breathed, "Is there anyone else in your life?"
Luke pressed his lips into a thin line. "No... To be honest, I still haven't moved on from you." He turned his head to face Y/N, taken aback when she pressed her lips against his.
"I didn't find anyone else, Luke. I wanted to come back from university and run into your arms again, like old times." Y/N uttered as she pulled away. Luke cracked an ecstatic grin, pulling her back.
"Are you guys seriously making out in front of my house?"
Y/N and Luke jumped apart at the sound of Percy's voice. The younger boy was staring at them through the tinted window, face wrinkled up in disgust.
"I'll, um, get in the backseat." Y/N said, smiling before she switched seats, allowing Luke to sit beside Percy. The brunette gave the boy a subtle glare.
"Can I turn on some music?" Percy asked as he drove down an empty road. Luke had switched off the radio to allow the blond to concentrate.
"Only for a little while. Keep your eyes on the road so you don't almost kill anybody else." Luke snapped. From the backseat, Y/N lightly laughed.
Percy pushed a button and with a quiet click, Olivia Rodrigo started playing. "Really, Luke? Your sad playlist?"
"It's the only other tape in my car."
"I got my driver's license last week"- Percy sang along but he was cut off by Luke's stern tone.
"Percy, you won't be getting your license for ages if you don't focus on the road." The brunette warned. Percy frowned, going silent for a few moments before he parted his lips again.
"He used to listen to this playlist in his car while it rained. He was probably thinking about you." Percy said to Y/N, looking at her through the mirror, "I think he even cried at some point. Annabeth and I saw him one night, just sitting in the car and banging his head against the wheel."
"Percy!" Luke hissed, trying to shush the boy. But the damage was already done as Y/N diverted her eyes to look at Luke.
"Really?" There was an amused edge to her voice.
"Stop the car." Luke demanded, glowering at Percy. The young blond nonchalantly pulled over and stopped the engine. "You're dead, Percy. I'm going to tell Annabeth how you still drool in your sleep." Luke pulled out his phone, causing Percy to panic.
"I told her I stopped!" Percy reached for Luke's device but the brunette quickly stepped out of the car. He held the phone up high, away from Percy's grasp. Y/N watched as Percy chased after Luke, desperate to hide his drooling problem from Annabeth.
Luke turned his head to scowl at Percy. "It's your payback for telling Y/N that!"
idea from @emiliehornby !!
PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303
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kathlare · 2 months ago
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my everything
Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman
Summary: Amelie and Lando share a night shaped by vulnerability, comfort, and the unspoken safety they find in each other.
Wordcount: 3.5 k
Warnings: none
full masterlist // request over here!
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August 25th, 2020 - Spa, Belgium
The sheets twisted around Amelie’s legs like they were trying to hold her down. Her breaths came in short, shaky bursts as she shot upright in bed, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to her skin like sweat.
She didn’t scream. She never screamed.
But her hands were trembling, chest tight, the silence in the hotel room too loud. The dull amber glow of the streetlights outside spilled across the floor, casting shadows that looked just a little too alive. She dragged a hand through her hair, trying to ground herself. Inhale. Exhale. You’re fine. You’re okay. You’re not there. You're not sixteen again. You're not—
Her fingers curled into the comforter, nails biting into the fabric.
Fuck.
She rolled onto her side, burying her face into the cold pillow. Counted. One, two, three, four… twenty. Still awake.
This was stupid.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force herself to sleep. But the minute she let her mind drift, the images came back. Cam’s voice, that panicked, helpless feeling of not being able to fix what was already lost. The crushing guilt that never fully went away, no matter how much time passed. Her chest ached like it always did after those kinds of dreams—like there was a piece of her missing, and it just kept bleeding.
She didn’t want to wake anyone. She didn’t want to need anything. She hated this. Hated how it still haunted her, how it still felt like something was sitting on her chest all these years later.
But she also knew what would make it better.
And she’d been avoiding it.
She sat up slowly, the hotel duvet slipping off her shoulders. Her phone screen told her it was just past 2:40am. Too late, her brain whispered. Too desperate, it added.
She ignored it.
The floor was cold against her bare feet as she padded across the room. She didn’t bother changing out of her old oversized tee or pulling her curls into any sort of order. She just grabbed her key card, slipped on her face mask, and stepped into the hallway.
Lando’s room was three doors down. She paused in front of it, heart thudding harder now than after the nightmare. She raised her fist and knocked. Light. Hesitant.
Nothing.
She waited.
Knocked again. This time a little louder.
Still nothing.
Her fingers curled into her sleeve. She was about to turn around and give up—fuck, maybe this was a bad idea—when the door creaked open.
And there he was.
Half-asleep, hoodie falling off one shoulder, curls messy and flattened on one side. He blinked at her in slow confusion.
—Amelie?—
She exhaled shakily. —Can I… stay over? Just for a bit.—
She didn’t explain. She didn’t have to.
Lando rubbed a hand over his face, still processing, then stepped aside without saying a word.
She walked past him, quiet, barely breathing, and he shut the door behind them. The room was dim, only a bedside lamp left on, casting soft gold across the carpet. His bed was unmade, obviously. The air smelled like mint and his cologne and something warmer she could never place but always felt like comfort.
She climbed under the blanket without a word.
Lando followed.
The mattress dipped as he settled in beside her, close but not too close. Until she shifted, hesitated—and then let herself lean just an inch toward him.
That was all it took.
He slid his arm around her waist, slow and gentle. She didn’t stop him.
His hand rested lightly against her stomach. Then, without a word, he started the softest rhythm—tiny, slow pats. Comforting. Familiar.
She didn’t speak. Just lay there, letting her muscles unclench one by one.
She felt the heat of his chest at her back. The weight of his arm. The way his thumb brushed once against her shirt, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.
And for the first time that night—maybe the first time in days—her breathing began to even out.
She wasn’t fine.
Not really.
But she was here. And he was here. And it was quiet.
That was enough for now.
As her eyes fluttered shut again, she whispered into the dark:
—Thanks, Lan.—
Lando didn’t say anything. Just kept his hand steady. Gentle.
And somewhere between the nightmare and the safety of his arms, Amelie finally fell asleep.
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The morning sunlight seeped through the blackout curtains anyway—sly and golden, brushing over Amelie’s bare legs and warming the exposed skin where the comforter had slipped down. She stirred softly, the distant hum of city traffic and something else—water?—filtering into her brain.
Her eyes cracked open slowly, lashes fluttering. The room was unfamiliar in the way hotels always were, but the sheets smelled like clean laundry and faintly like him, and for a split second she didn’t remember how she’d gotten here.
Then it all came rushing back.
The nightmare. The hallway. Lando.
Her throat tightened.
She rolled over instinctively, half-expecting to see him still there, curls messy on the pillow beside her, face squished in sleep. But the space was empty, sheets still warm. The sound she’d registered earlier—the shower. Still running.
She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. Her limbs felt heavy with sleep, but not in a bad way. More like… safety. She stretched her arms up, spine cracking, hair falling in wild tangles over her face as she yawned.
The room was still dim, curtains mostly drawn, but the soft clatter of plates caught her attention.
She blinked blearily, then slipped out of bed and padded across the plush carpet. The table near the window had been filled—croissants, fresh fruit, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and two steaming mugs. One of them was definitely hot chocolate. Her hot chocolate.
A grin tugged at her lips despite herself.
Lando knew.
She sat down slowly, pulled the plate of eggs toward her, and took a bite. Then another. She was starving. Like she hadn’t eaten properly in days. And for once, her stomach didn’t twist with guilt or resistance—it just accepted the food. Craved it.
She was halfway through her croissant, a dab of jam on the corner of her mouth, when the bathroom door opened.
Lando stepped out in grey sweatpants and a towel slung around his shoulders, curls damp and sticking to his forehead. He paused when he saw her at the table, then gave her a dramatic look.
—Well, thank you for waiting for me.—
Amelie rolled her eyes, lips curving into a smirk as she licked jam off her thumb. —I was literally starving. And you were in there for ages. What were you doing, conducting a full-on spa day?—
Lando scoffed and dragged the other chair out, flopping into it. —Excuse me for having a skincare routine.— He grabbed his toast, then nodded toward her half-empty plate. —You ate the good croissant. That’s criminal behavior.—
She raised a brow, chewing slowly. —I regret nothing.—
They settled into an easy rhythm, the kind that only came with comfort and familiarity. Talk drifted between completely random topics—how Lando had once accidentally FaceTimed Zak Brown with a filter on (a baby dragon, no less), how Amelie was convinced hotel scrambled eggs were better than regular eggs, how Lando still couldn’t wrap his head around the plot of Inception and refused to try.
They didn’t talk about the bed.
Didn’t mention the fact that she’d crawled into it like it was hers. Or the fact that she hadn’t even hesitated this time. Or that he’d held her again, like muscle memory.
They both knew they’d promised not to do this anymore. Not to blur the lines like this.
But maybe they were too good at pretending. Or too afraid to admit they didn’t want to stop.
Lando was in the middle of mimicking George’s impression of Charles (“Mate, eef I spin, I spin. It is what it is.”) when a sharp knock at the door cut through the laughter.
They both froze.
Amelie looked up, eyes wide. Lando instinctively leaned back in his chair like distance would somehow buy them time.
The knock came again, louder this time.
—Shit,— Lando muttered.
—Who is it?— Amelie whispered.
Lando stood slowly, peeking through the peephole.
—Carlos.—
Amelie nearly fell out of her chair. —What the hell is Carlos doing here at...?— She checked the clock on the wall. —9:23 in the morning?—
Lando shot her a look. —Probably trying to drag me to breakfast. You need to hide. Now.—
Amelie scrambled to her feet, grabbing her phone and cradling her hot chocolate like it was a newborn. —Where?—
—Bathroom.—
—Go, go, go.—
She darted across the room, nearly slipping on the hem of his oversized shirt—her oversized shirt now, if this morning counted as some kind of silent claim. The same one she’d slept in. No makeup, hair a storm cloud of loose curls, bare legs and all.
This was not how she wanted Carlos Sainz to find her.
She dove into the bathroom just as Lando pulled the door open.
—Buenos días,— Carlos greeted, sunglasses perched on his head and a coffee in hand. —You alive? I've been texting you for fifteen minutes.—
—Sorry,— Lando said quickly, stepping back. —I was in the shower.—
Carlos gave him a once-over, noting the damp curls, towel still looped around his neck. Then his eyes swept into the room—paused on the breakfast spread, the two plates, the two mugs, one with lipstick smudged faintly on the rim.
His brows arched.
—You had company?—
Lando blinked. —Uh... what?—
Carlos didn’t say anything for a beat. He just walked in without waiting for an invitation and nodded toward the table. —There are two plates. And unless you suddenly eat croissants and scrambled eggs at the same time, someone else was here.—
Lando scratched the back of his neck. His brain was scrambling for a lie, but it was already too late. The air smelled like her shampoo. A small ring sat forgotten on the nightstand. One of her shoes—just one—was under the chair.
Carlos squinted.
—Wait. Did someone spend the night?—
—No,— Lando said too fast. —Well. Not like that.—
Carlos raised a slow eyebrow. —So like… not that, but definitely someone.—
From behind the bathroom door, Amelie pressed a hand to her face and mouthed silently: I hate everything.
Carlos took another step into the room, arms folded, surveying the crime scene like some sort of breakfast detective. His expression wasn’t angry—just amused. And deeply, deeply curious.
—So…— he said, dragging the word out, clearly enjoying the sudden rise of color on Lando’s cheeks. —You definitely had someone over. Who is it? Don’t make me guess, porque voy a empezar con nombres muy incómodos.—
Lando groaned. —Carlos, come on. It's not like that.—
Carlos raised both eyebrows again, pointing to the lipstick-marked mug. —You said that already. But that definitely looks like “like that.” Unless you’ve developed a secret passion for Charlotte Tilbury lip liners.—
Lando threw a napkin at him. —Can you not be this annoying before ten a.m.? I’m too tired.—
—Tired, huh? Funny.— Carlos gave him a pointed look and flopped down onto the edge of the unmade bed like he owned the place. The springs squeaked under him. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. —Is it someone I know? Wait. Is it someone we know?—
Lando didn’t answer. Which, of course, was an answer.
Carlos blinked.
Then he grinned.
—No. No fucking way. It’s not… Is it someone from the paddock? Lando… tell me it's not one of the PR girls. Please, I can't do a "We just vibe" situation.—
Lando scrubbed a hand over his face. His heart was racing, panic clawing up his throat. Because this was spiraling fast. And Amelie was in the bathroom, probably listening to every single word, and if Carlos kept talking like this—
—Carlos, drop it.— His voice came out sharp. Too sharp. Defensive in a way that made Carlos’ grin twist into something far more intrigued.
Carlos sat back a little, resting his elbows on his knees. —Bro… who is it? You're acting weird. Wait.—
He looked toward the bathroom.
Lando stiffened.
Carlos’ eyes narrowed. —Is she still here? Holy shit, is she in the bathroom right now?— He stood up like he was going to go check and Lando stepped in front of him immediately, arms wide like a human barricade.
—Carlos, no. Seriously. Drop it.—
Carlos raised his hands innocently. —Okay, okay, damn. Protective much? Must be someone important.—
Lando didn’t say anything.
Which, again, was an answer.
Carlos’s brow furrowed slowly. Something shifted in his face, thoughtful and a little wary. He stared at Lando for a second, then said:
—Does Amelie know?—
Lando blinked. —What?—
—About whoever this is. I mean, you’re not exactly subtle when it comes to her. Everybody knows you’ve had a thing for her since, like, 2019.—
Lando’s breath hitched.
Carlos didn’t notice. He just kept going, totally unaware that every word was a grenade now. —You remember Barcelona last year? When she came to the paddock and you couldn’t speak for twenty minutes? I thought George was going to pass out from secondhand embarrassment.—
Lando's face had gone pale.
Inside the bathroom, Amelie sat on the closed toilet lid, knees pulled up to her chest, her heart slamming in her ribcage. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop. She hadn't meant to hear that.
But now she had.
And it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.
Carlos was laughing now, oblivious. —Honestly, man, I don’t know how you didn’t combust that day. You kept staring at her like she was made of starlight or something. It was embarrassing.—
—Carlos.— Lando’s voice was quiet, clipped. He wasn’t looking at him anymore. Just staring at the floor like it might open and swallow him whole.
Carlos didn’t get the hint. —I mean, you guys are close, yeah, but Amelie? She’s… I don’t know. She’s like...— He searched for the word. —Untouchable. Not in a mean way, but come on. She’s Amelie. You’re just you.—
That did it.
Lando stepped back and opened the door. —Get out.—
Carlos blinked, startled. —What?—
—I said get out.— Lando’s voice was low now, steady in a way that made the air shift. His jaw was clenched, eyes hard. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.
Carlos stood frozen for a second, caught off-guard by the sudden change in energy. —Bro, I didn’t mean...—
—Yeah, you did. But it doesn’t matter. Just go.—
Carlos looked at him, searching for something—apology, explanation, maybe even a laugh. But Lando didn’t move. His grip on the door tightened.
—Okay,— Carlos said finally, more subdued now. He backed up a step, then another, and paused in the hallway. —Sorry. I didn’t mean to push.—
Lando didn’t reply.
The door shut softly behind him.
Silence fell, thick and echoing.
Inside the bathroom, Amelie hadn’t moved. Her hand was still over her mouth, fingertips pressed to her lips like she could force the flood of emotions back down her throat. Her mind was spiraling.
You’re not exactly subtle when it comes to her.
Everybody knows.
You’re just you.
She stood slowly, palms pressed to the cool counter, staring at her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes wide. Her chest felt tight in a way that wasn’t panic or shame—it was something deeper, something closer to panic’s twin: realization.
She opened the door quietly.
The room was still. Lando stood with his back to her, hands on the edge of the table, shoulders drawn tight. The echo of Carlos’ words still lingered like smoke.
You’re just you.
But to her, he wasn’t just anything.
He turned slightly when he heard her, eyes flicking to her reflection in the mirror above the minibar. His mouth parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.
Amelie stepped forward, slowly. Her legs felt like glass. —You okay?—
He nodded once. Too quickly. —Yeah. Fine.—
She didn’t believe him. Not even for a second.
She stopped a few feet away, hands clenched in the hem of her shirt. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable—it was charged. Alive. Like it was brimming with everything they weren’t saying.
She looked at the table. At the two mugs. The one with her lipstick. The one Carlos had pointed at.
Her gaze drifted back to Lando. His eyes were on the carpet now.
He hadn’t even looked at her.
That stung more than it should have.
She bit her lip. The words came out soft, almost too gentle for the weight they carried. —You’re not just you.—
His eyes snapped to hers.
She swallowed hard, stepping closer. Her voice was steadier now, laced with the tremble of truth finally spoken. —At least not to me.—
Lando blinked, caught in place. Caught in her.
Amelie didn’t wait for him to speak. Didn’t wait for the fear or the doubt or the thousand reasons they’d always said not now. She just closed the space between them and cupped his jaw in both hands, rising up on her toes.
And then she kissed him.
It wasn’t frantic or explosive. It wasn’t even long.
But it was full.
Of everything she hadn’t said. Of everything she felt every time she looked at him and saw home. It was warmth and wonder and a little ache at how long she’d kept it all locked inside.
Lando didn’t move at first.
Then he did.
His hands found her waist, curling into the fabric of the shirt she was still wearing—his shirt—and he kissed her back like he couldn’t believe she was real. Like he was afraid he’d wake up.
When they finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against hers, breath warm between them.
—Say it again,— he whispered.
Her thumb brushed his cheek.
—You’re not just you. Not to me.—
He closed his eyes, and for a long moment, they just stood there.
Wrapped in a silence that didn’t need to be filled. Because, somehow, everything had already been said.
But it was only the beginning.
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lvnleah · 10 months ago
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010. | Insomnia and cravings
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word count: 1.4k
find the masterlist here!
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February 22nd 2024 | 34 weeks pregnant.
The clock on the bedside table glowed beside you. You looked over to see it read 2:00 AM. You tossed and turned, breaths coming in restless huffs. At thirty-four weeks pregnant, sleep had become a luxury.
After your sickness had calmed down at around week twenty-five, you thought that the rest of your pregnancy would be smooth sailing but it wasn’t.
You’d had a few weeks of bliss but they soon ended once you turned thirty weeks. Insomnia had kicked in a few weeks ago and ever since it has stopped you from sleeping.
Every time you tried to get comfy your body started to ache. You’d get comfy, your legs would then cramp meaning you’d have to roll over, then you’d start to sweat and then you’d need to get up for a wee and repeat the vicious process all over again.
You envied Leah for the amount of sleep she was managing to get.
Frustrated, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand, its light illuminating your face as you tapped at the screen. You opened Candy Crush, your new game that you were addicted to, to quiet the relentless nudging from your baby. The light from your phone, however, was not so discreet.
Leah stirred from her sleep. She blinked groggily at the bright screen, "Babe, what are you doing up?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
You sighed, laying your phone on your chest. "I can’t sleep. Finley just won’t stop kicking. It’s like he’s trying to play football against my bladder."
Leah propped herself up on one elbow, "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I don’t know," you admitted. "I’ve tried everything. I think I need to rearrange these pillows again."
Leah nodded, her movements slow but deliberate as she adjusted the pillows. "Maybe if we angle these differently? Or try another wedge?"
After several attempts, Leah sighed and slumped back against the headboard. “It’s not perfect, but how’s that?”
You shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. “It’s a little better, thank you. But now I’m really craving a Five Guys burger.”
Leah’s eyes widened in the dim light. She knew how intense your cravings could be, and when you mentioned something specific, it was often non-negotiable. Leah’s stomach grumbled in agreement; she hadn’t had Five Guys in ages and the idea seemed appealing, even at this hour.
“You’re serious about that burger, huh?” Leah asked with a half-smile, knowing you’d talked about five guys right before you’d fallen asleep.
You laughed softly, “I don’t know what it is. I’ve been thinking about it for hours.”
Leah sighed, as she got out of bed and slid her tracksuit bottoms on. “Okay, okay. I’ll go get you one. Besides, I’ve been craving their fries myself. They’re so addictive.”
“You’re the best, Le.” You smiled, leaning up to kiss her lips. “I really appreciate this. It’s just... I don’t know if I’d be able to sleep if I didn’t get that burger.”
“Do you want anything else with it? Maybe a milkshake or some extra fries?”
You considered it for a moment. “Actually, a milkshake sounds great. Maybe salted caramel?”
Leah grinned, already reaching for her jacket. “You’ve got it. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Try to get a little rest if you can, pretty girl.”
You nodded. “Thanks, Le. I’ll try to rest while you’re gone.”
Leah leaned over and kissed your forehead gently. “Don’t worry about it. Just relax. And if Finley starts kicking up a storm again, just think about that burger coming your way.”
With a final glance and a reassuring smile, Leah grabbed her keys from the dresser and stepped out into the cold night. The quiet streets of the neighbourhood were bathed in pale moonlight as she headed to the 24/7 Five Guys.
The trip was quicker than Leah anticipated. Soon she was back at your apartment, the scent of freshly cooked fries and a grilled burger wafting through the door before she even entered. She placed the warm bag on the nightstand with a flourish. “Mission accomplished.”
You sat up, eyes widening as you set your phone down. “You’re amazing. I don’t know how you do it.”
Leah chuckled as she sat beside you on the bed. “Just lucky, I guess. I didn’t even think about it until I was halfway there, but I actually wanted a burger too. I guess cravings are contagious.”
You took a bite of the burger, savouring the juicy flavour. “It’s perfect. Thank you. I didn’t realise how hungry I was until now.”
Leah laughed, “I’m sure you’ll be out like a light once you’re done.”
You nodded as you took a bite “I hope so. Finn seems a little calmer now too. Maybe he just needed a midnight snack as well.”
Leah laughed softly. “Maybe. You should try to get some sleep. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
You nodded, settling back into your nest of pillows. Leah laid beside you, as you closed your eyes, and sleep came easily to both of you.
A few hours later, you were woken up by a little foot kicking you in the ribs. You groaned in frustration, growing uncomfortable once again, as you glanced over at the clock. This time it read 4:30 AM, meaning you hadn’t been asleep for very long.
You sighed as you looked over at Leah who was fast asleep on her stomach, jealousy fired up inside of you as you watched her sleep undisturbed.
She had it so perfect. She didn’t have two tiny feet trying to karate chop her insides keeping her up. She didn’t have the back pain and boob pain that you had. She could sleep perfectly fine.
You carefully shifted your weight, trying not to wake her, and reached for the phone you had set aside. As you tapped through your notifications, the gentle light from the screen made you wince.
Leah stirred again, her eyes fluttering open. “Pretty girl, what’re you doing awake again?”
You smiled tiredly at her. “Sorry, Finley’s just being very active. I’m trying to get comfortable, but it’s a bit of a struggle.”
Leah stretched and blinked at the faint glow from your phone. "Maybe you should try adjusting the pillows again to get comfy?"
You sighed and tried a new arrangement with the pillows, but it didn’t help much. You found yourself tossing and turning, unable to escape the discomfort. “It’s just not working! I’ve been trying for hours, and I’m so tired.”
Leah’s voice was soft. “I’m sorry that you can’t get comfy, pretty girl. I hate it when I can’t get comfy so I can’t imagine what it’s like for you while pregnant. I love being comfy and cosy”
You snapped, frustration boiling over. “Will you stop repeating the bloody word 'comfy!' It’s not working! I’m exhausted and nothing seems to help!”
Leah’s eyes widened, and she looked taken aback by your outburst. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things worse. I just want you to be comfortable.”
You let out a shuddering breath, trying to calm down as a few stray tears slipped. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just so tired and frustrated. Nothing seems to be working tonight. I’m aching all over, Finley’s kicking my ribs and I just want to sleep properly!”
Leah reached out and gently rubbed your back. “Okay, let’s try something different. How about I adjust the blankets and we’ll see if that helps?”
You nodded, feeling the tension slowly start to ease as Leah worked. Gradually, you found a more tolerable position. Leah settled in beside you, softly whispering, “Just breathe and relax. You’re doing great.”
“It’s just so annoying!” You groaned as you settled down into Leah’s side. “I just want to be comfortable! That’s all I want.”
“I know darling,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I so wish I could help somehow but I can’t. Only a few more weeks and then he’ll be here.”
You nodded, “I’m also banning you from the word comfy. You need a new word, woman!”
“Keira would agree,” the blonde laughed, “She hates when I use that word!”
With the new arrangement of pillows and blankets, you finally felt a sense of comfort. Exhaustion took over, and despite the restlessness, you found yourself drifting off to sleep, Leah’s arms wrapped and you and your bump.
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ragingbookdragon · 2 years ago
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Someday We'll Be All That We Need
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst
Author's Note: I made a new friend so I made that friend a fic. @temeyes <3 -Thorne
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Other than the shivering, Simon doesn’t so much as twitch in the corner they’re huddled in. She’s cold herself, but nothing feels as terrifying as losing the man wedged in between her thighs, head resting against her chest. The bleeding has stopped though, the bullet wound plugged well enough that him exsanguinating is the least of her worries—it’s the ever-dropping temperature and the broken-down cabin that scares her.
It was thirty degrees Fahrenheit when the mission started; the last reading was ten and dropping. The cabin they’d taken shelter in was worn down, broken windows and missing ceiling allowing streams of frigid winter air and snow to fall in and continue to chill their bones. Simon had sealed his wound and managed to stay awake but with the blood loss he’d suffered and the stress, fatigue had set in, and that’s when she’d found herself curled up in the corner with the emergency blanket from her kit wrapped around his torso, his body wedged up against hers, trying to conserve energy and heat.
The comms had gone down, Simon’s radio busted in a skirmish of hand to hand with an enemy, and she had only managed to get one SOS out before the line cut off. They were alone in the middle of enemy territory, in a temperature-dropping environment, wounded and unable to call for help. Her worst fears were coming alive.
She swallowed thickly, shaking the thoughts away, and readjusted her grip on Simon, jostling him awake in the process. “Alrigh’, love?” he murmured lowly, tongue lazy and slow; he only called her love when they were alone and serious.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “You?”
“Back’s killin’ me.”
She huffed a laugh. “I bet it is. You’re folded like a pretzel.”
Simon shifted, or tried to, and rested his head on her shoulder. “How long’s it been since I feel asleep?”
“Maybe an hour?” she blinked, looking around the room; snow was beginning to pile up where the holes in the ceiling dropped to the floor. “I haven’t really been paying attention to the time.”
“Hmm.” He breathed into her neck. “I can’t feel my toes.”
Her eyes shifted to his feet, and she let out a breath, a mixture of shock and fear. “How bad is it?”
“Bad,” he admitted. “‘s bad, love. Spreading up.”
“Motherfucker,” she laughed in disbelief and wrapped her arms tighter around him. “Price heard the SOS. He’s coming, okay? Just…just keep it together until then.”
Simon swallowed thickly; his eyes still shut as he nudged her neck with his mask-covered nose. “Got a safety deposit box back in Manchester,” he muttered. “Key’s in my nightstand back at base.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Got ‘bout five-hundred thousand pounds in’it.” He shifted again as if trying to get into her skin to be warmer. “Deed to a property in Herefordshire. Got it a few years ago when I was staying with Price.”
“Simon, stop,” she warned—she knew exactly what he was doing.
“Want you to get out and go live there. You’ve served long enough to get pension. You’ll be set for the rest of your life out there.”
“No. Not without you I won’t.”
He shook his head. “I don’ think I’m comin’ back, love. Not this time.”
“Don’t say that,” she stressed, turning her face to his. “They’re coming. We’ll be okay.”
Simon didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Want you to buy one of those big black Corso’s. Name her Morrigan. Let her take care of you and the land.”
Tears began to gather in her eyes. “You’re a bastard,” she whispered. “Quit it.”
“I want you to listen. I want you to be taken care of. I want—”
“I want you alive,” she cut off. “Now shut up and save some energy.”
Simon cracked an eye open and simply gazed at her. “I love you. I know I didn’ say it enough. ‘m sorry, love.”
She clenched her jaw against the wave eating her chest inside out and inhaled deeply. “Simon, stop and rest. I won’t say it again.”
He let his eyes close and laid his head back down. “Alright, love.”
***
It was at least another two hours before noise echoed outside, and it drew her from a slumber she hadn’t realized she was in; she jolted up, Simon jostling with her. “Simon,” she whispered. “Someone’s outside.” He didn’t respond to her, and she pulled away, looking at him. “Simon?” he was asleep, unresponsive to any of the stimuli around him. “Fuck, Simon?” the noise outside grew louder, and she pushed past her fear and shifted from under him, tucking him against the wall as she grabbed her gun and rose to her feet.
Kneeling down, she put a hand against his face. “I’ll be back, okay? I promise.” She swallowed. “I’m coming right back, Simon.”
She rose again and headed for the door, cracking it open and slipping outside as a vehicle pulled up; tucking behind the railing, she breathed deeply and lifted her head, catching sight of a few men exiting.
Before she could even raise her weapon, she heard, “Contact!”
Ducking again, she cocked her rifle and listened as the others did the same, obviously hiding behind shelter themselves. It had to be the rest of that enemy squad that she failed to take out when Simon got injured. Fuck, she only had one mag left and she was running on fumes herself. She had to be quick. She had to be careful. She had—
“Identify yourself, or we will shoot!”
Wait, that sounded like—
“I will not say it again! Identify yourself or—”
“Price!” she called and peeked over the railing. “Price, it’s me! It’s me!”
Soap and Gaz appeared on the other side of the SUV. “Athena?”
She felt tears gather in her eyes as she stood up and lowered her gun. “Holy shit, I’ve never been so glad to see you guys.”
Price stopped in front of her, pulling her into a quick hug. “Good to see you. Where’s Simon?”
Simon.
Her heart dropped. “Fuck.” She turned on her heel and sprinted back into the cabin and to the corner, the men on her heels; she got to him first and dropped to her knees, shaking him. “Simon! Simon, wake up!”
He didn’t move.
“Simon!” she called again, lifting her cold fingers to his neck. Whether it was her own anxiety or him, she couldn’t feel a thing and she started panicking. “I can’t get a pulse!” she turned to them. “I can’t wake him up!”
Soap pulled her back as Price and Gaz got to work and she thrashed in his arms. “LET GO!”
“Lass, calm down!”
“LET GO! SIMON!” she screamed, her own vision beginning to haze, exhaustion weighing taking its toll.
“We’ve gotta start compressions,” she heard Gaz say and he looked at Price. “He’s not going to make it back if we don’t do something now.”
Price looked back. “Soap, get her in the SUV, we’ll prep Simon for transport.”
“Aye, sir,” Soap said and hefted her up against her thrashing.
“NO! I’M NOT LEAVING HIM BEHIND! LET GO OF ME GODDAMNIT!”
“Lass, you can’t help him even if you wanted to.”
Her body felt like lead and she felt her limbs going numb as her breathing kicked into a wildness, head light and heavy all at the same time. She kept trying to get out of his arms when Price tossed a syringe his way, and a prick to her arm drew blackness into all sides of her gaze, the last thing she saw was Gaz yanking open Simon’s gear to press his hands to his chest.
***
There was an impossibly annoying beeping going off on the side of Simon’s bed and she had half a mind to kick him in his hip and gripe at him to turn it off; she managed to mumble something akin to it but when the beeping didn’t stop, she managed with great effort to crack her eyes open, only to be met with the sterile walls of a medical room.
It all came back in an instant and she sat up straight, yanking the IV out of arm, the oxygen tube from her nose, rolling from the bed. Her knees kissed the floor and pain seared up her legs as she scrambled for the door, only to fall again, but she crawled on her hands and knees to the handle. Lifting herself, she pulled the door open and leaned heavily on the wall of the hallway as she stumbled down, looking in every room for her lover.
“Simon!” she called weakly; the mission had taken its toll on her. She was weak, far beyond her own capacity and she was barely standing as it was. “Simon!” she yelled again, and Soap stuck his head out from a door about five doors down.
“Athena? Holy shite, you shouldn’t be up!” he made it to her, trying to help her, but she pushed past him.
“Where’s Simon?”
“Love, you need to go back to—”
“WHERE IS HE!”
Soap recoiled and recovered, gently wrapping his arm around her. “He’s down here. Still asleep.” His grip was steel. “I’ll take you to him.”
“I can—”
“You either let me help or I take you back to your room.”
She fell silent and let him, that was until she turned the corner of Simon’s room, and darted from his arms, barely managing to avoid face-planting into the hospital bed railing as she clambered onto the bed with the man.
“Simon?” she whispered, grabbing his face in her hands; he was so warm now. Tears seeped down her cheeks. “Simon, sweetheart?” she said again, pressing her head to his chest to feel his steady heartbeat thumping beneath; a choked sound of happiness escaped her, and she looked at Soap. “He’s alive.”
He smiled at her. “Yeah, love, he’s alive.”
“He’s okay?”
“Eh, we’re a little worried about his toes, but so far yeah.”
She buried her face in Simon’s chest, crying into the gown he wore, and grabbed one of his hands; she squeezed it tightly, relief flooding her as his fingers tightened around hers in his sleep.
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acquieesce · 4 months ago
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some might say it's love (fluff)
reeeally long story, hope you like it! 🩷
words: 2k
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it was just another ordinary day. you were at your friend liam's house, lounging on the couch while the tv played in the background.
liam had become your closest companion ever since his brother—and your best friend—noel had gone on tour as a roadie for inspiral carpets. noel had been gone for months. at first, you both tried to keep in touch, but as time passed, it became harder and harder. eventually, you two lost contact.
you spent a lot of time at peggy and liam's house, helping her with the dishes, assisting in the kitchen, and setting the table. whenever she needed a hand, you were there. that’s how your friendship with liam grew—through small acts of kindness and shared moments. he became your partner in crime, someone you could confide in. it was almost funny to think that, just a few months ago, the two of you barely had real conversations.
but there was one thing liam didn’t know—your love for noel.
you had known noel for as long as you could remember, practically growing up together. despite being a year younger than him, you attended the same school, and he had always treated you like a little sister. you used to love that. until one day, you didn’t.
as you grew older, you began noticing him in a different way. noel was a little taller than you, lean but not too thin, with long hair that always seemed slightly disheveled. but what captivated you the most were his eyes—piercing blue, the most beautiful you’d ever seen.
the first time you realized you had feelings for him was the day he helped you after you fell in the street. he had been so worried, fussing over you, carefully bringing you home, tending to your scrapes with such gentleness, as if you might break at any moment.
and in that moment, you knew—he wasn’t just your best friend anymore.
the sound of the doorbell at the gallaghers' house jolted you from your thoughts. you glanced at liam, expecting him to get up and answer it.
"what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "you want me to open the door? you go!"
you shot him an indignant look. "the house is yours! you open it!"
"i'm way too cozy right now, and besides, you're closer to the door," he said, leaning back further into the sofa with a smug smile, hands resting behind his head.
rolling your eyes, you sighed. "fine! i'm coming!" you called out as the doorbell rang again, more insistent this time.
as you swung the door open, your breath caught in your throat. standing in front of you was noel.
his hair was shorter than the last time you'd seen him, and he held a few bags in his hands. the moment his eyes met yours, he let them drop to the ground without hesitation. before you could even process what was happening, he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you as if it had been years instead of months.
for a brief moment, you stood frozen, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions. then, slowly, a wide smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him just as tightly.
"my god, i missed you so much! looks like you've grown up!" noel said, stepping back to take a proper look at you.
you rolled your eyes with a small laugh. "come on, it wasn’t even that long."
"felt like years to me," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "i couldn’t wait to get home."
"oi, rkid! you're back!" liam's voice rang out before he practically tackled his brother in a hug, catching him off guard.
"come in! i want to know everything!" liam continued, barely giving noel a chance to breathe. "how was it? is the road cool? what was the band like?" the questions spilled out one after another.
noel chuckled, shaking his head. "liam, slow down." he glanced around. "where’s mum?"
"she went to the market, she’ll be back soon," liam said, flopping back onto the couch. "okay, so? how was it? did you meet any bird?" he shot noel a mischievous grin, wiggling his thick eyebrows.
your stomach twisted at the question. you weren’t sure if you wanted to hear the answer. instead, you forced out a small laugh, waiting for noel’s response.
"of course not," noel scoffed, rolling his eyes. "i went to work, not to chase girls." he shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"wow, man, you really don’t know how to have fun," liam teased, shaking his head.
you laughed along with them, secretly relieved.
a little while later, peggy arrived home, immediately pulling noel into a tight hug and planting a kiss on his cheek. she had missed her son terribly—and, judging by the way he held her just as tightly, he had missed her too.
that evening, the four of you sat around the table, catching up over dinner.
"you have to see, love," peggy said, shaking her head with a fond smile. "liam barely stays at home anymore—he’s always off rehearsing with his band. what was the name again, dear?"
"oasis," liam answered proudly, puffing out his chest. "and we’re going to be the biggest band in the world."
"y/n’s already heard us rehearse—tell him!" he turned to you eagerly.
you let out a small laugh. "they’re actually pretty good, trust me." you glanced at noel, watching for his reaction.
he raised an eyebrow. "and what exactly do you do in this band, liam?"
"i sing," liam said, as if it were obvious.
noel burst out laughing. "he sings? i think you need to clean your ears, love."
liam stuck his tongue out at him.
"these two have been inseparable since you left," peggy chimed in. "she’s always here—it’s like she’s becoming my daughter at this point." she laughed softly. "and she and liam do practically everything together."
you felt your cheeks warm as you looked down with a shy smile.
noel said nothing. he just nodded—and changed the subject completely.
some time later, you found yourself in noel’s room, sitting across from him as he talked about life on the road—what it was like to be a roadie for an up-and-coming band, the long nights, the exhaustion, but most importantly, the dream it fueled in him.
"one day, i won’t just be setting up guitars," he said, eyes shining with determination. "i’ll be on that stage, playing my own songs for the whole world to hear."
you watched him intently, admiring the way he spoke with so much passion. it was inspiring—beautiful, even. but no matter how much you wanted to listen, your mind kept drifting.
all you could think about was how much you had missed this. the late-night talks, the warmth of his presence, the way everything felt lighter when he was around.
"oi, earth calling—are you even listening to me?" noel snapped his fingers in front of your face, smirking.
you jumped slightly at his words. "what? yeah, i’m listening," you said, blinking rapidly, trying to refocus.
noel hummed in response, then, as if it were the most casual thing in the world, asked, "so, you and liam got really close while i was gone… did something happen between you two?" he absentmindedly played with his fingers, not looking directly at you.
"what?" you let out a loud laugh, tilting your head back. "are you crazy? liam is five years younger than me! that would never happen."
noel just gave a small, weak smile.
for a moment, neither of you spoke. you simply stared at each other, a comfortable quiet settling between you. god, you had missed this. you had missed him—his warmth, his jokes, and especially those piercing blue eyes, more beautiful than the ocean itself. the ones you had always loved getting lost in. you wondered if he had missed you too.
"you know," he started suddenly, voice softer now. "while i was with the inspiral carpets, i kept thinking about you. about us."
your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in ever so slightly, closing the space between you.
you froze. "a-and what were you thinking?" you stammered, heart pounding at his closeness.
noel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i don’t know. just... wondering. if i hadn’t left, if i had stayed here, would things have stayed the same? or would they have changed? you know, the usual ‘what ifs.’"
you let out a small chuckle, trying to mask the growing tension in the room. "well, i guess we’ll never know, right?"
noel tilted his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips as he shook his head.
"what?" you asked, laughing nervously.
he exhaled, still smiling. "seriously, you haven’t noticed yet?"
your brows furrowed. "noticed what?"
he let out a small, disbelieving laugh before muttering, "god, you’re such an idiot."
you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, he looked straight into your eyes and said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world—
"how have you not realized that i like you?"
you stood there, completely still, just staring at him. had you heard that right? noel gallagher—the boy you had secretly been in love with—had just confessed that he liked you?
the room felt suffocatingly quiet until noel sighed and broke the silence.
"i know this might seem like a lot, but i needed to get this off my chest," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "i really like you. hell, i liked you even before i went on tour." he exhaled sharply, as if he'd been holding it in for far too long. "i think i realized how real it was when we lost contact. i spent every single day thinking about you—wondering if you were okay, if you were eating, if you were sleeping. god, i couldn't get you out of my head!"
you just stood there, frozen, letting him speak, letting his words sink in.
"and i missed you. so much." his voice softened now, his eyes searching yours. "i wanted to see you every day. i wanted to hug you. talk to you. kiss you—"
he froze, realizing what he had just said. your eyes widened, heart hammering in your chest.
and then, before you could even think, you threw yourself at him, pressing your lips to his in a sudden, desperate kiss.
noel tensed for half a second, startled by your boldness, but the moment passed, and he melted into it, his arms wrapping around you like he'd been waiting for this forever.
the kiss was filled with everything neither of you had said before—affection, longing, relief. nothing else mattered.
noel’s hands instinctively went to your waist, his fingers pressing gently against you as if memorizing the moment. one hand slid up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek as he deepened the kiss. your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
time didn’t exist. it was just the two of you, lips moving in sync, tongues teasing and exploring, hearts racing. you felt like you were floating—like all your dreams had suddenly become real.
and then—
"oi, dickhead, mum is calli—what's happening here?!"
liam’s voice shattered the moment like a brick through a window.
you and noel immediately pulled apart, eyes wide, faces flushed.
your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you struggled to meet liam’s gaze. he stood in the doorway, mouth open, eyes flicking between the two of you like he had just walked into a crime scene.
noel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "liam, get out. now." he pointed toward the door. "and close it behind you!"
liam held his hands up in surrender, smirking. "alright, alright! just—maybe don’t make babies in my bed, yeah?"
"get out!" noel barked.
liam chuckled, backing out of the room, muttering something under his breath before disappearing down the hall.
silence.
then, you and noel locked eyes.
and suddenly, you both burst into laughter.
as the laughter faded, a comfortable silence settled between you and noel. the weight of what had just happened hung in the air, but it wasn’t heavy—it was warm, almost electric. he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, his thumb tracing slow, reassuring circles against your skin.
neither of you needed to say anything. the confession, the kiss, the unspoken emotions lingering in the space between you—it was enough.
somewhere down the hall, you could still hear liam grumbling to himself, likely making a mental note to never leave his room unattended again. the thought made you smile.
noel gave your hand a gentle squeeze before pulling you into his chest. his chin rested lightly on your head, and for the first time in months, everything felt right. the world outside could wait—right now, in this small room filled with old posters, unfinished song lyrics, and the faint scent of cigarettes and aftershave, you had everything you had ever wanted.
and noel had finally realized that he had, too.
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everwhovian · 5 months ago
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what remains. | Hwang brothers
(warnings: kidney failure, kidney donation, sickness, hospital stay)
Part 1 | next part | masterlist
Part 9: The kidney disease
Kidney disease.
The words hit like a punch to the chest, knocking the air from his lungs. In-ho had known something was wrong, he’d seen the signs for weeks, but he had tried to convince himself it wasn’t serious. That maybe Jun-ho was just stressed, pushing himself too hard, just a stubborn teenager who didn’t know when to slow down.
But it wasn’t that.
His baby brother, his bright, stubborn, full-of-life baby brother, was sick. And this wasn’t something that could be fixed with rest or a proper meal.
The doctor’s voice became background noise, explaining test results, treatment options, dialysis. But all In-ho could hear was the dull roaring in his ears, all he could see was Jun-ho, sitting there, silent, pale, and far too still.
“We’ll need to find a donor match,” the doctor said, his voice calm, clinical. “A biological relative is the best chance.”
They tested his stepmother first. She wasn’t a match.
The results came in quicker than expected, but that didn’t make them any easier to hear. His stepmother's face fell as the doctor spoke, her fingers curling tightly around Jun-ho’s hand, guilt etched in every line of her face.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice thick.
Jun-ho, exhausted but ever steady, gave her a tired smile. “It’s okay, Eomma.”
It wasn’t.
And when they asked about his father, In-ho didn’t even waste a second thinking about it. He wasn’t calling him.
Not because of pride. Not because of anger.
Because he already knew what would happen.
“No,” he said flatly. “Not an option.”
The doctor furrowed his brows, pen clicking. “I understand there may be personal reasons, but –”
“I said no.”
He already knew how that would go.
His father hadn’t even picked up the phone the last time Jun-ho had been in the hospital. A broken arm at six years old, sitting in a hospital bed, his small voice asking, “Does Appa know?”
“Yeah,” In-ho had lied. “He knows.”
“Is he coming?”
A pause. Then a forced nod. “Of course.”
But their father never came.
Now? Now that Jun-ho’s life depended on it? The bastard would be harder to reach than ever. No, he wasn’t doing this.
His father had made his choice years ago. He had chosen absence. He had chosen silence. He had chosen to be a stranger to his own son. To both of them.
So this was on him.
He turned to the doctor, voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.
“Test me.” No hesitation. His voice was sharp, unwavering.
And that was it.
The wait for the results was agonizing. He could do nothing but watch – watch Jun-ho’s tired eyes flicker closed, watch his wife hold his hand, rubbing slow circles into his skin, watch his stepmother trying so hard to be strong even as her hands trembled in her lap.
“It’ll be okay,” Yuna murmured softly to his stepmother, her own voice tight with emotion. “He’s not alone.”
And he wasn’t. He never would be.
When the results finally came, the doctor’s voice was careful, controlled. “You’re a perfect match, Detective Hwang.”
Relief hit hard, stealing his breath for a second. But before he could fully process it, the doctor kept talking.
“You have options. You may want to take time to consider –”
What?
A slow, cold anger built inside him as the doctor kept explaining. The options. As if he hadn’t already made his decision. As if he needed to think about it. As if there was a universe where he would choose himself over Jun-ho.
What part of ‘test me’ made the doctor think he needed to hear this? As if he hadn’t already made up his mind? As if there was a world where he would walk away?
And yes, some rational part of him knew that this was protocol. That the doctor was doing his job, outlining risks, making sure he understood what this meant.
But he already knew.
“No,” he cut in, his tone sharp. “You don’t need to explain anything to me. I don’t need time. My brother needs me, so tell me what I have to do, and I’ll do it.”
The doctor hesitated. Then nodded. “We’ll start preparations right away.”
Yuna exhaled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. His stepmother wiped her eyes. And Jun-ho, still hazy with exhaustion, only mumbled a quiet, “Hyung…”
Just like that, the anger faded. Because this wasn’t a choice. It never had been.
The days blurred together after that.
Jun-ho was put on dialysis while the final tests were run. He stayed in the hospital, hooked up to machines, exhaustion weighing him down.
In-ho called in all the favors he had collected over the years, switching shifts with coworkers, taking all the time off work he could… In-ho wasn’t going anywhere.
But then he noticed the tension in his stepmother’s face as she skimmed through the medical bills, saw the way her shoulders stiffened as she reached for the pen.
Money was tight.
Before she could sign anything, before she could take on debt she would struggle under, In-ho placed his hand over hers.
She looked at him, startled.
“No,” he said quietly. “I’ll take care of it.”
“In-ho –”
“I’m the oldest son. I’ve been there for Jun-ho his whole life. For… the both of you. I’m not stopping now.”
She searched his face, maybe looking for hesitation. But there was nothing to find.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” she whispered.
“I know,” he admitted. “But I’m still going to.”
In-ho had always been careful not to rely too much on his stepmother, but in that moment, watching her try to shoulder something she didn’t have to, he understood something.
He loved her. More than he had ever loved his own mother.
He took the pen from her hand and signed his own name. Any debt would be his.
She exhaled, watching as he pushed the papers away. Then, to his surprise, she reached for his hand.
“Thank you, son.”
The words hit deep, deeper than he was ready for. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he squeezed her hand, just once, before letting go.
Yuna pulled him aside later, her voice low. “You shouldn’t have to take this all on yourself.”
“I can handle it.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I do.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
He smirked slightly, tension easing. “You married me.”
“Yeah, well.” She gave him a tired smile. “I guess I’m just as impossible.”
Later that night, after the tests, the paperwork, the endless conversations with doctors, In-ho returned to Jun-ho’s room. His little brother was half-asleep but still awake enough to groggily blink at him. Before stepping inside, he hesitated. Just for a moment.
Just like he had all those years ago. The night he first met Jun-ho, just a fragile thing wrapped in blankets. He had hesitated then, standing at the edge of something that felt too big for him, something he hadn’t been sure he was ready for.
Now, years later, standing outside Jun-ho’s hospital room, he felt that same hesitation. The same weight pressing down on him, the same moment of quiet before stepping into something irreversible.
But just like before, he didn’t turn away.
Before he moved, though, Yuna was there. She had been there through it all – standing by his side, holding his hand, carrying his burdens even when he tried to shoulder them alone. And now, she looked just as exhausted as he felt, rubbing at her tired eyes, her body sagging with the weight of the day.
Without a word, he pulled her into a hug.
Yuna let out a soft breath of surprise, but then she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her forehead against his chest, holding him just as tightly as he held her.
For a moment, he let himself breathe.
“I’ve got him,” he murmured into her hair.
“I know,” she whispered. “But who’s got you?”
His lips pressed against the top of her head. “You do.”
She let out a quiet huff, squeezing him tighter. “Damn right I do.”
They stood there for a moment, just holding on. No words, no movement, just the quiet reassurance that neither of them were alone in this.
Then, finally, he let go. He cupped her cheek briefly, his thumb brushing against her skin, then turned back to the door.
Stepping inside, he didn’t hesitate this time.
Jun-ho blinked up at him, groggy but still awake. “Hyung…” His voice was hoarse, weak, but familiar in a way that made something in In-ho’s chest tighten.
“Yeah?”
Jun-ho licked his dry lips, watching him carefully. “You’re really giving me your kidney?”
A smirk tugged at the corner of In-ho’s lips. “No, I thought I’d let you keep waiting on dialysis just for fun.”
Jun-ho rolled his eyes, the smallest, sleepiest huff escaping him. “Hyung.”
“I am giving you my kidney,” In-ho said, quieter now.
Jun-ho’s gaze softened. “Really?”
“Really.”
A quiet hum, his eyelids slipping closed. “That’s kinda gross.”
A chuckle rumbled through In-ho’s chest. “Then give it back when you’re done with it.”
Jun-ho’s hand weakly swatted at him, missing by a mile. “Mmm. No thanks.”
“Thought so.”
For a moment, he just sat there, watching his little brother drift off. The decision had been made.
Just like that first night in the darkened room, when he reached into the crib and never let go.
Jun-ho was his. And he always would be.
❛ ━━━━━━・❪ ○△□ ❫ ・━━━━━━ ❜
Part 1 | next part | masterlist
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feinv · 1 year ago
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so like.. john overstimulated during sex and early ejaculating because youre just too much? he was on a job for weeks and when he got home, obv he missed you (and lowkey you were not helping by being needy)! so when it came down to it, oh john what happened :< well, at least men stay hard for a couple minutes after so you can get a few more movements on!!
reminded me of joe goldberg when he first got intimate with beck bro lasted eight seconds. (i would too shes gorgeous).
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the minute the front door creaked open his lips were literally on you in a messy kiss. you hated when he was away, none of you could bare the lack of physical touch from one another, so you didn’t even care that he was a little sweaty, covered in god knows who’s blood and reeking of gunpowder.
you two loved having slow, passionate sex, taking each others time to properly appreciate one another’s bodies, desires, needs. but at that moment you just needed to feel him, touch him, and he wanted it just as much, if not more.
with your lips dancing in a sloppy kiss, your fingers only focused on his belt and pants, eager to take his already hardened cock out, his calloused hands mimicking your actions and yanking your shorts down, never breaking the kiss.
he laid you down on the nearest surface he could find, rubbing his red and swollen tip over your folds to collect your arousal before he slid in, gentle yet fast, not having the energy to wait anymore.
you both whined in each others mouths, having missed the feeling of close proximity so much it felt like getting intimate for the first time.
with his movements quick and desperate, he kept thrusting into you, having his lips on your neck now while you voiced out your moans into the air.
you felt him suddenly bite down on your soft flesh, his teeth digging a bit too hard as a loud choked groan vibrated from his lips. you sensed his hot liquid shooting through your walls as he stilled completely, resting his sticky forehead on your cotton t-shirt.
“i’m sorry. darlin’ i…” he muttered embarrassed, hiding in the crook of your neck, refusing to show you his reddened face.
you giggled at his flustered state, moving your fingers to tousle his long hair. “it’s okay, john. i missed you too,” you teased as he retracted himself from your body with a dissatisfied grunt, leaving you with that dreading feeling of emptiness before it got replaced by his hands and tongue.
he planned on making you see stars several times on end, giving you the satisfaction you so needed. he knew he would get hard in the process again because pleasuring you is the only thing that gets him going, so it was a win win situation. ;)
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xoxo-sarah · 1 year ago
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Can't Come Back From This
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↝pairing: Daryl Dixon x medic!Reader
↝warning: death, blood, apocalypse, zombies, crying, angst, not proof read
|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||
↝⎙ 2.17.24
Divider by @saradika-graphics
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You stumbled past the door, practically falling down the steps. The only thing stopping you from falling onto the pavement was the railing on the stairs.
It was as if everything was going in slow-motion.
Red. Dead. Blood.
The same 3 words kept repeating in your head. A nagging voice that wasn't your own repeating the words that would surely drive you insane.
The crimson liquid ran down your arms and hands, splattering onto the ground, weaving into the cracks of the concrete. Red liquid. Blood.
"Y/n?" Daryl slowed from his absentminded walk down the street, stopping across from you on the other side of the road. His eyes followed yours as they drifted to your hands. His body moved before his brain could process what was happening, or what had happened for your hands to be covered in blood and your expression as if you had seen a ghost. "What happened?" Daryl held your hands, asking the only question that seemed to come out, out of all the questions swimming around in his head.
"Bit."
His head shot up, looking at every inch of your face. Your face, that kept the same distant expression. He went into panic-mode. His eyes went from your face to your body, checking your arms, legs, everything. As far as his eyes could see, your hands were the only thing bleeding.
Your head shook, "Sammy."
Daryl felt his stomach drop. Any relief he felt when he relieved you weren't bleeding turned to dread.
Sammy. Sammy was a young boy, probably around 17, 18. He was a good kid, as far as Daryl knew. The kid was always offering to help in any way he could. He would go on runs and come back with more than needed. He kept the small kids of Alexandria entertained. Sammy would help teach the kids and others how to use weapons correctly. He could make a mean rabbit stew. But you could probably thank Carol for that. She taught the kid so much since he showed up. And he listened to every word.
Sammy was learning from Siddiq the same time you were. He was always one step ahead of you in asking questions. You didn't blame him. He was a smart learner, and willing to teach if you didn't understand something the way Siddiq explained it. "Want to learn how to save someone's life in the apocalypse." Sammy had told you, with a goofy grin. The same goofy grin he wore all the time.
You two were close, like brother and sister.
Losing him had to feel like what losing Merle felt like. Maybe even worse.
"Hey," Your dull eyes met his. Your eyes had never lacked this amount of emotion before, not even with what you have all been through this far. Your body fell forwards just as he touched your elbows. You laid limp in his arms. He couldn't care less about the blood soaking into his top as you clung to it. "Yer okay."
His attention was brought to the ajar door. A clattering inside seemed to only faze him. "I-" You hiccuped, "I couldn't do it. I couldn't, Daryl."
He had been rushed in late last night, bleeding so much, you were unable to find the wound at first. He was gargling on his own blood, trying to reach for his neck as you frantically cleaned him.
When you had finally found the wound under all the blood, you tried to save him. Tried to cut his leg off Before the infection traveled. But it was too late. His body went limp. You stayed by his side the rest of the night, staring at his peaceful expression, aside from all the grime.
The world was cruel, you had already known that. Way before the apocalypse. But this was a new level of cruel. One that one person couldn't come back from on their own.
The groaning continued, following the sound of your voice. The old body of Sammy growled and groaned, clawing at the door as you laid in the arms of the man you felt comfort in in other ways most nights.
Daryl moved back, holding you at arms length. "Gotta take care of it. Sit down." He helped you sit and lean against the steps.
He was quick with it. Almost as soon as he opened the door and walked in, he was walking out.
"Yer alright." He knew you wouldn't be the same again. You probably wouldn't laugh or make fun of him for a while. Hell, you might even quite working in the infirmary. He wouldn't blame you.
You had dealt with plenty of deaths before. There's just some you can't come back from.
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•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•
•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]
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