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lovebugism · 7 months

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hey honey can i request a shy!reader x grumpy!eddie , maybe they’re pumpkin picking with friends & something angsty ensues but then fluffy & after they all go eat at the diner and get spooky themed orders 🤭

thanks for requesting lovie! — eddie gets grumpy on a fall outing with the gang (shy!reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, 1.3k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie’s a big ol’ grump at Eugene’s Pumpkin Patch, but he’s being really brave about it. He follows you like a puppy, visibly unamused about the whole thing but trying hard to be a good boyfriend despite his woe.

“Ah! Look at this one!” you gasp at the sight of a pumpkin, in a sea of bright orange pumpkins.

Swallowed whole by your sweater, you crouch in the tall grass and reach for the tiny round thing hidden in it. The runt pumpkin sits neatly in your palms. “It’s so wittle,” you singsong up at Eddie in a tiny, high-pitched voice.

He smiles despite himself, laughing even though he’s grumpy, ‘cause you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m gonna get this one,” you announce affirmatively when you rise to full height again.

“You made me drive an hour out just to get the tiniest pumpkin they have?” Eddie asks, laughing still but with a subtle bite of annoyance.

You try to ignore it, though the weight of his aggravation makes you writhe. “But it’s cute…” you defend with a weak shrug. “And also, you have to get one, remember?”

You take a tentative step towards Eddie, standing chest to chest. He huffs and puts his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. His chocolate eyes flit around the expansive farm, dull and unimpressed. “They all look the same, so… I don’t think it really matters.”

“It does matter!” you insist, girlish and quiet and stubborn. “You have to pick the one you like the most— that’s the whole point!”

“You’re telling me there’s an art to pumpkin picking?” the boy teases with a crooked grin, tilting his head to the side so his curls bunch at his shoulder.

Still clutching the tiniest pumpkin either of you have ever seen, you nod. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

He scoffs again in a curt laugh. He looks around again, only to point to the one sitting by his feet.

“Alright… How about that one?”

“Eddie!”

“What?” he whines in the same pouty tone as you.

“Can you at least pretend you’re having fun?” you murmur, a bit sad you have to even ask.

You always spiral when he gets weird, secretly terrified that it’s all your fault. He doesn’t talk, so you overthink. Your brain gets mean, and you need Eddie to make you feel better — but he can’t because he’s weird. It’s unbearable. For both of you.

“It’s cold and rainy and Steve’s pants gave me a headache on the way over and I don’t feel good, okay? I’m sorry,” Eddie rambles with a pout, looking visibly pained about all of it.

Any excitement you had left leaves you like an ebbing tide. “Okay,” you mutter with a soft nod.

“I’m gonna go smoke,” the boy announces.

He smacks a fleeting kiss to your cheek before he goes but doesn’t bother to invite you to come with him. He doesn’t feel very deserving of your company right now, too selfish in his woe and painfully self-aware about it.

You stand in place while he walks back to the van, feeling utterly alone and unwanted.

“Where’d Eddie go?” Steve wonders when he walks up to you with Robin at his side.

They carry two pumpkins each, struggling with each of them because they’ve somehow managed to find the biggest ones on the whole farm. You figure they made a bet about it because everything’s a competition with them.

“Um… to smoke, I think,” you answer shyly, embarrassed to have been found alone for a reason you can’t name. “He just kinda… left.”

Robin scoffs. “I think he’s on his period,” she jokes with a gritty laugh.

“Yeah. He said my pants looked stupid before we left. I knew something was up.”

The brunette girl side-eyes the boy beside her. “I think he might’ve been right about that one, Stevie.”

You make a quiet exit when they begin to bicker back and forth. You duck through the bustling pumpkin patch and try not to trip in the tall grass on your way to Eddie’s van.

Your boots crunch over the gravel of the parking lot. You find him leaning against the trunk, blowing out smoke from his pink mouth, slouching like he’s weighed down by his own sadness.

“You okay, Eds?” you ask to announce your arrival.

His eyes widen when he realizes you’re there. He’d pretend to be fine if it didn’t take all the energy he had left. “No,” he answers honestly, then quickly corrects, “I mean— I am, but… I feel bad. I was acting like a dick…”

“Yeah,” you concur with a nod. “You were.”

He’s too shocked to hide it on his face. You’re never normally so confrontational. You’re usually too quiet for that, too soft. And you still are now, because you always are, but he feels like he deserves to see this sterner side of you.

“But it’s okay. I know you didn’t wanna come in the first place.”

He turns on his shoulder when you stand at his side, towering over you as he flicks the butt of his cigarette. “Yeah, but… I didn’t have to be such an asshole to you about it. I feel like I fuckin’ ruined this whole day, you know?”

“We all have our moments, Eds. It’s no big deal,” you assure with a weak shrug and a stronger smile. “We still have the whole afternoon left— you didn’t ruin anything. Doesn’t make me love you any less, either.”

Your words make him grin. Like, really grin — all wide and rosy and boyish. You make him smile like nothing’s ever hurt him. Like nothing’s ever been wrong in his life. Fuck, he’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.

“I love the shit outta you, you know that?” he mumbles but doesn’t give you a chance to answer. He tosses the cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out with his sneaker right before kissing you absolutely stupid.

He wraps his arms around your neck, smothering your face with his. No one’s ever been kissed as hard as he’s kissing you now. The realization makes you smile too wide to kiss him back.

He pulls away from you with a hearty smack. With pinker lips and chocolate eyes, he grins hopefully down at you. “So you’re not mad at me?” he wonders, gentle like a child.

“Yes,” you nod, playfully firm. “I’m very mad, actually.”

Eddie’s smile widens. He knows you’re joking and decides to lean into it. “What can I do then, huh?” he murmurs lowly to you, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “How can I make it up to you?”

He wants to kiss you again. He wants to get you in the back of his van in a vacant parking lot. He wants you to tell him to make you feel good and not to stop until you’re pushing him away.

You know all of this, ‘cause you can practically read his mind, so you decide to drive him crazier. “I want you…” you start in the same low tone, bordering on sultry.

Eddie’s already nodding.

You smile and continue.

“…To go pick your most favorite pumpkin in the whole patch, and then take me to Benny’s Burgers.”

Feeling slightly disappointed and utterly teased, Eddie searches the entire patch and finds the weirdest-shaped, wartiest pumpkin the earth has ever grown. He drives the gang to the diner after and sits you in his lap when all of you squeeze into one booth.

He shares his milkshake with you and lets you have the pickle slice that comes with his burger when you ask for it (‘cause everyone knows it’s the best part). It’s the purest form of love, if he has anything to say about it.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: fictober!

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botanicalsword · 9 days

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Moon signs ♡ Being in love vs Falling out of love - how would they act like

>> Moon signs • how they behave >> Moon signs • the qualities of partners they desire

✧ Aries Moon

Being in love - intense connection Aries Moon seek a passionate and intense connection. They want a partner who is energetic, direct, and openly affectionate. They value relationships that make them feel alive and comfortable, embracing the vibrant experiences of life. Falling out of love - Recover quickly Aries Moon is aware of their ability to bounce back quickly. They prioritize taking care of themselves and starting anew rather than getting stuck in repetitive patterns. The greatest harm caused by a broken relationship for them is disappointment and setbacks.

✧ Taurus Moon

Being in love - security Taurus Moon desires a partner who provides a basic security, often expressed through material due to their nature. They seek someone reliable in sensory experiences, financial stability, and other material levels. Their partner doesn't need to overly cater to every detail but should care about Taurus' feelings, understand their needs, and actively participate. Falling out of love - reassures themselves Taurus Moon tends to count their bank accounts and possessions, seeking comfort by buying luxurious items. They constantly reassure themselves and prove that they are still secure because of many valued surroundings.

✧ Gemini Moon

Being in love - Crave a twin While Gemini Moon often displays an easygoing and talkative style, they also repress part of their emotions. They need to find a similar twin-like partner who can be their like-minded person. As long as their partner is happy, Gemini Moon will feel fulfilled. Falling out of love - close connections with others Gemini Moon will tend to create new life plans and enjoys staying close to relatives, friends, or even neighbors. They are unlikely to go back to an ex-partner due to the fear of awkward situations.

✧ Cancer Moon

Being in love - sense of home in a partner A sense of security is of utmost importance to Cancer Moon. They long for someone who is always there for them, creating a sense of home. However, they are sensitive so their desire for security can also lead to challenges, ranging from jealousy to fear. Falling out of love - seeks solace in familiarity Cancer Moon tends to move on quickly, prioritizing their physical living space, financial situation, and other things that provide them security. They may retreat to familiar environments for healing. They firmly believe that their hometown and family are where they can realize their self-worth.

✧ Leo Moon

Being in love - seek partner’s support They appreciate being treated in a special way. They need to feel that they are cherished, with all the attention focused on them, and to receive unconditional support from their partner. Falling out of love - seek validation Leo Moon have to prove their uniqueness to the world. They need stages. They need to feel wanted by others, and they may constantly seek validation to prove their charm.

✧ Virgo Moon

Being in love - responsible without being clingy Virgo Moon are thorough in taking care of their partners. They are responsible and non-intrusive. Compared to those with a Gemini Moon, individuals with a Virgo Moon may experience fluctuations and inconsistency in their emotions. They may not display intense emotions, even though they feel deeply. Falling out of love - control their emotions well They rarely lose their temper and have good self-control. This self-control is part of strategy ebbed when negative emotions arise, allowing them to adapt to new circumstances quickly. But, at times, they may disregard their own feelings while taking care of others.

✧ Libra Moon

Being in love - value harmony Ideally, they desire a harmonious relationship, and they prefer to present a harmonious image, especially in public settings. Falling out of love - restoring relationships Libra Moon individuals believe that everything can be restored to its original state. They have a gentle nature and may reminisce about the past with their partner to rekindle the feelings. They prefer long-term connection. However, expressing their true thoughts to others can be challenging for Libra Moon.

✧ Scorpio Moon

Being in love - appear strong Scorpio Moon are unlikely to reveal their vulnerabilities easily. They tend to display a dominant side and dislike being nagged by their partner, often showcasing a bossy or CEO-like behaviour. Falling out of love - experience a long struggle Scorpio Moon have various ways of ending relationships, and they can be either heavenly or hellish. The key is to truly let go and realize that the relationship has ended. If they recognize that the love cannot be salvaged, they may experience a period of pain, but eventually, they will rise again and prepare themselves for the next relationship. When it comes to shared assets, Scorpio Moon may struggle and take a significant amount of time to settle things.

✧ Sagittarius Moon

Being in love - explore life's possibilities Sagittarius Moon seek a partner who is interesting and allows them to explore the possibilities of life together. Falling out of love - focus on philosophical living and may seek inspiration Sagittarius Moon understand that life continues even after a breakup. They focus on how to philosophically approach life, and some may constantly discover new things or seek spiritual inspiration. While they are open-minded and flexible when embracing the future, once they discover the truth, they can become stubborn. Some Sagittarius Moon may seek solace in religious beliefs after a breakup.

✧ Capricorn Moon

Being in love - responsible and committed Capricorn Moon are responsible and committed in their emotional connection. They often take on many responsibilities, meticulously managing every aspect of their lives. Falling out of love - become workaholics or overly busy Capricorn Moon may become workaholics or obsess over household chores. They secure their lives, and on the other hand, they use busyness to downplay the pain of emotional turmoil. They are determined to keep pushing forward, like determined ostriches burying their heads, believing that as long as they have the ability to strive, they are not failures.

✧ Aquarius Moon

Being in love - prefer predictable and controllable situations Aquarius Moon are not necessarily distant. Similar to Libra Moon, they prefer things to happen in a predictable and controllable manner. Falling out of love - rational They hold a standard of fairness and justice in their hearts. They perceive a breakup as a joint decision made by both side, which can make them appear somewhat detached and rational. They also analyze the reasons for the relationship's challenges, to protect themselves on a deeper emotional level.

✧ Pisces Moon

Being in love - highly sensitive and empathetic Pisces are highly sensitive and empathetic, and they have the rich emotional depth. They tend to understand the others’ feelings, forming an empathetic connection. Empathy is their greatest strength, but it can also make them losing their boundaries. Falling out of love - escape reality They often opt to various means to escape reality. Cutting off contact can be a useful technique, but they know that they will always find a way to maintain a form of connection with that person.

✧

✧✧✧✧ >> Relationship ✧ What’s their love language in this connection? • Marks Chart >> Relationship • Tough feeling & Challenges • Marks Chart

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marc-spectorr · 2 months

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𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒎

pairing: duke leto atreides x fem!reader

summary: It's the night before your wedding to Duke Leto Atreides and he finds you struck by panic about your future in Caladan.

warnings: 3.1k wc. arranged marriage, panic attack, anxiety, mentions of conceiving. my limited dune-lore knowledge. soft!leto.

a/n: first leto fic ahhh!! i may or may not write more parts to this in the future. i had so many ideas but if i wrote them all in one fic, it would be a long one (not to mention it would take 1001 years to finish and post). anyway, feedback is very much appreciated! hope you enjoy :)

—

Caladan.

There is a beauty to it that you cannot deny. It's captivating from the very first glance. An indescribable sight, unparalleled to anywhere else in the universe.

Of all the worlds you could be in at this moment, a part of you is glad it's Caladan. In spite of the circumstances that brought you here, you try to be grateful for it. Surely, there are worse places to live on than this.

Here, the ocean is vast, stretching far beyond the starlit horizon. A fresh breeze carries the salty scent of the water towards you. It tickles your skin as if it were a feather, the light coolness sending goosebumps along your arms. You tug your shawl more closely around your shoulders.

It is far from the hot desert landscape you know and love. Despite its recent hardships, that planet was once home to you. It still is. You wonder how long it will be before you consider Caladan as such. It's been one week since your arrival, and you're in a period of adjustment, which in truth, has not been too easy.

The beach is empty, unsurprising as the moon has moved far past its highest point in the sky. You can't sleep. You haven't for so long. Similar to all the nights prior, you had tossed and turned endlessly under silken sheets before deciding to go for a walk. You found no comfort in your bed despite the mattress beneath you being the softest there ever was.

It could be the chambers themselves, surrounded by four dark walls that are still very much foreign to you. You must get used to it, you remind yourself. In fact, it's more than just a room that you must get used to.

Tomorrow, your life will change more than it already has when you moved to Caladan.

Tomorrow is the wedding—your wedding. Many esteemed members of the Great Houses will be in attendance, alongside your closest family and friends, who are now worlds away from you. They will all be present to witness you exchange vows with Duke Leto Atreides, a man you barely know.

You exhale a deep, long sigh and draw your knees under your chin. Gentle waves lap onto the shore, the white foam almost reaching your toes before ebbing away. You watch in comfortable silence, the hypnotic rhythm of the waves creating a sense of calm.

Unwittingly, your mind combs through recent events. You spent plenty of these last few days surrounded by those more interested in your upcoming nuptials than you are. You've grown weary of feigning smiles every second in their company, of pretending to be okay when you are far from it.

You feel alone. You are alone.

It’s a sacrifice—leaving behind the life you had to help your struggling home world. Things are changing faster than the time you have to process them. But you can't afford to wait—the sooner you marry Leto, the sooner your father and your people's burdens will go away.

You are doing the right thing. The noble thing. It's what you were raised to do. The last thing you wish is to be seen as a disappointment.

Still, it doesn't mean you have your worries and doubts. You lack experience, having never courted someone before. You question whether or not you would be fit to be a wife to the stranger who is the Duke of Caladan. You're well aware of the responsibilities you would have to uphold, the expectation that one day you will need to bear him an heir…

You shut your eyes, trying to push past the feeling of your heart starting to pick up and thud heavily against your ribs. But the pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach grows and grows, and it's a losing battle. Not even the ocean waves that mesmerized you moments ago could distract you from the mounting panic inside.

Your thoughts batter you from within like a storm raging out of control. The pressure and expectations others have on you— that you have on yourself— can't be stopped.

They're too loud; they refuse to be ignored this time around.

Your body trembles, your breaths are short and shallow, and it feels like you are drowning; you're helplessly caught in a dangerous current that pulls you under the water. The weight in your chest drags you down and deeper, sinking and sinking until you hit the very bottom of the depths of your own mind, deprived of any air, any light.

It's only until a voice calls out your name over and over again that you resurface. Warm, gentle hands urge you to sit right back up, and you don't have it in you to fight against them. You don't remember curling up on your side, wound in a tight little ball, nearly burrowing yourself into the sand bed as if wanting to be swallowed whole.

"Breathe, darling... Listen to my voice and just breathe, alright? One... two... three..."

You can't see him, not through the hot, stinging tears obscuring your eyes. But you can hear him. His voice's hazy, soft lull is strangely familiar, yet you cannot place whose it is.

He coaxes you repeatedly, and you focus on his words as if they are your one and only lifeline—as if they are the calming waves reaching the shoreline.

You do as he says. You breathe.

"One... two... three... That's it, my lady. Deep breaths for me, and again— one... two... three... Good girl, and again. Breathe..."

You're unsure how long has passed by the time your heart slows, and your breathing evens out. Your blurred vision clears once your tears have settled, and your eyes widen when you recognize the face before you.

Duke Leto Atreides kneels beside you, dressed in a manner you have never seen him in. He has on a loose white shirt and dark lounge bottoms, his graying head of curls mussed by the wind blowing past.

You're uncertain why he's at the beach alone at this late hour despite being seemingly ready for bed. Perhaps concerned guards informed him of your wandering about the castle in the dead of night. Did he come all this way in search of you?

Leto’s dark eyes search your face for the reason of your distress. Embarrassment sweeps over your cheeks— you cannot imagine how much of a pitiful mess you look. God, what if you've ruined it? What if seeing you this way, so weak, and frightened, and pathetic, has Leto wishing to rescind his agreement to marry you? What if, what if—

"Hey, shh… Relax. There is no need to fret," Leto soothes. He must have seen the worry in your eyes, but instead of ridicule as you anticipated, he looks at you with concern.

You cast your gaze down, catching sight of your hand in his. He hasn't let go of it since finding you, and when he notices your muscles tense up from the anxiety that seizes your body once more, he squeezes.

Leto squeezes your hand firmly but nowhere near the point of pain. His words are a quiet murmur in your ears. "Don't go back there, darling. Stay here, on this beach. Squeeze my hand back so I know you're here with me. Can you do that for me, please?"

With his other hand, Leto places a finger under your chin to tip it upwards, meeting your eyes. Again, he holds your hand tightly and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. You concentrate on him, matching your breaths to his. The tension starts to slip away bit by bit, and when it does, you finally squeeze his hand back.

"There you go. Just breathe, you're alright," Leto murmurs with a small smile. It dawns on you how close he is when the sound of the ocean becomes second to his voice. "Better?"

You swallow, then nod following a brief pause, not trusting yourself to speak.

Moving slowly so as not to startle you, Leto picks up your shawl from the ground, dusting it clean of grains of sand before draping it over your shoulders.

You expect him to leave, seeing you have regained some semblance of composure. You much prefer that he would. You can't handle explaining to Leto what was wrong. Is wrong.

The air turns silent as you face the water, wiping the dried-up tears from your cheeks with your fingers. You don't see Leto in your peripheral vision, but he's there, watching you. You can feel it.

"Here," you hear Leto say. Glancing to the side, you find him still sitting next to you. He offers his handkerchief, gently motioning it toward you when he senses your hesitation.

With the slightest smile, you accept the piece of cloth, whispering a "thanks" and looking away.

It occurs to you then that this is your first true moment with Leto. Before today, you had only seen glimpses of him. The most time you have spent with him was during your first encounter, and even then, it wasn't for long.

You chalked it up to Leto having no genuine interest in you. Why would he? He has duties that are much more pressing than entertaining you.

It's not much of a surprise. It would be wrong of you to expect for more. Ultimately, this marriage is not one for love but born out of necessity. A political alliance. A guarantee that your people will be well taken care of. That's the agreement.

Not to mention, you've heard them— those hushed talks amongst the servants and guards about how Caladan does not stand to gain anything from the union.

They are not wrong; many have supposedly expressed concern, including members of the Duke's inner circle. You wonder if he will come to regret his decision one day.

"You've had quite a fright there."

Leto's voice cuts through the silence between you. He shuffles from behind, sitting where he can better see you. You stop yourself from glancing down; it would be rude, and you don't want to tarnish both your image and your family's name even more than you already have.

"I-I am deeply sorry, my lord. You shouldn't have to see that," you manage to get out, catching the way Leto's brows knit together in response.

"There's no shame in such. Why apologize?" he asks you in a soft tone. "And please, there's no need for formalities. Call me Leto. After all, we are betrothed to one another."

Your throat suddenly dries at the reminder that the man before you is your soon-to-be husband. You wring your hands in your lap and give him a nod, skirting from answering his earlier question.

Leto is quick to pick up your nervousness. You can almost see his brain working to piece it all together and grasp what was happening when he stumbled upon you.

You dread what words Leto might say, fearing they will be judgments made against you. You hide from his piercing stare, picking at your nails until a pair of rough yet gentle hands gathers yours, halting you.

Leto squeezes your hands softly, very much like he did before, and it soothes the part of you that has always ached but you could never get rid of.

"You do not have to carry your burdens alone, my lady," Leto murmurs, leaning to catch your eyes once more, and he does. "Whatever it is, unload it on me. Now, tell me what's wrong."

It's almost cruel that your instinct is to doubt him. But if the sincerity bleeding into his voice wasn't enough for you to give him a chance, then it's the tenderness in his gaze. You see the understanding in them, the concern and genuine desire to ease your troubles away.

Your initial perception of Leto has been wrong. You've been wary of him. Intimidated. But this is no man holding no care for you. He could have easily walked away after finding you amidst a fit. Instead, he stayed. He's here when you were convinced he would never find the time to be.

You open up to Leto like a floodgate, admitting to him the thoughts that plagued your mind from the day you learned about this marital arrangement, your nervousness for tomorrow's wedding and your fear of solitude in Caladan in the days that would follow.

You feel selfish, guilty even, for saying all of this out loud. You have no right to complain when the locals here have treated you with only kindness. Others would dream of being in your shoes—of living in a beautiful land, gaining an honorable title, and having a husband who would make you the envy of many.

Why must a blessing cause you great grief?

Leto listens to every word with undivided attention. He lets you speak freely and honestly, never once interfering between your sobs and sentences. He clears his throat only when the whispering waves of the ocean have lingered in the space between the two for some time.

"You are right when you said some of my advisors opposed me marrying you," Leto begins softly, gauging every bit of your reaction as he speaks. "They told me it would bring no benefit to House Atreides—that all we'll do is use up precious time and resources for a dying planet already beyond saving. Their words, not mine."

There is a quiet beat. Leto glances towards the horizon, where the first faint inklings of dawn break through the skies. He continues: "I realized then that those men do not uphold the same values I believe in. Caladan has more than enough riches to go around. There is no humanity in turning a blind eye to people's suffering—especially when we have it in our power to provide aid.

"I've had plenty of disagreements with my advisors, but I couldn't allow those without hearts to remain on my council. My lack of presence is not because I had no interest in getting to know you. Rather, I was ensuring those who showed little care for my bride and her ancestral land no longer served as advisors of mine—a task that regrettably stole time I would have spent with you."

You fall silent. The breath that leaves you seemingly takes more of the load on your being. Your respect for Leto grows. You see now the kind, thoughtful, benevolent man he is.

How could you have been so wrong about him? You'd been irrational, too assuming. So afraid he would turn out to be the complete opposite when he gave you no valid reason that he's such. You should not have been quick to judge his character when you had known nothing about him in the first place.

"I... thank you, my lor—Leto," you eventually say, turning to him. Shame and remorse cling to your tongue. "I am terribly sorry again. Had my mind been sound, I would've realized my distress is unwarranted."

"Nonsense. You're overwhelmed; your worries were reasonable. All I want is the two of us to be on the same page," Leto replies. The warm smile that adorns his lips when you correct yourself and address him by name lingers. “Let's start over, shall we then?"

You watch as he stands on his feet, reaching out his hand towards you. With Leto's help, you pull yourself up from the sandy floor, shaking off the pins and needles stinging your limbs. He holds his hand out once more, this time for a handshake.

"Hello, I am Leto and welcome to Caladan. It is a pleasure to meet you and an honor to have your presence here."

A smile blooms across your face as you shake his hand, formally introducing yourself to Leto the way he had. "I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to this. I, my father, and our people are eternally grateful for your generosity."

Leto makes a small bow of his head, capturing your hand between his own. Something inside you feels lighter now. The air around you, once thick like water, isn't anymore.

"You will no longer have to worry about your home world. I will make certain they receive all that they need—as for you, as well. I am here for you, even if it's simply as an ear to listen."

A pause. Leto's voice melts a touch softer. He looks at you with eyes deep and brown as the bark of a pine. "In a matter of hours, you and I will wed. It's merely for formality's sake. What goes on between us as husband and wife is nobody's business but ours. Please know that I ask for and expect nothing in return for agreeing to this arrangement. You will never be forced to do anything you do not wish to. Ever. Is that understood?"

You take in Leto's words, becoming aware of the unspoken ones, those hidden between the lines. Their implications settle on you, and you let out a quiet breath of relief into the air.

"I do," you assure before adding, for what could be the hundredth time since Leto has joined you, "Thank you."

“You’re welcome, my lady.”

The sun peaks over the skyline, casting bright golden rays over Caladan. Leto briefly glances in the distance, the silver strands of his mane and beard catching the light, and they glimmer before your eyes. He smiles wide, the lines on his face crinkling as he watches the sunrise.

You also find yourself smiling, spending a moment more studying Leto's profile before turning to what's ahead of you.

Caladan takes your breath away, even more so in the daylight. You can fully appreciate it now that the storms in your mind have passed, and it's as clear as the skies.

"It's a beautiful day to get married." Leto remarks as the two of you gaze out to the water. After basking in the peaceful silence, he meets your eyes again, offering you his arm like a gentleman would. "Come, let me escort you back to your room. We both should rest up a bit before the festivities start."

Nodding in agreement, you quietly say goodbye to the ocean and allow Leto to guide you away from the beach. The sand beneath your shoes eventually turns to a rocky pathway at the foot of Castle Caladan, its grandeur towering over you.

A warm hand slips into yours.

"From now on, you will never feel alone," Leto says, pressing a soft squeeze to your hand. His hold is comforting, and reassuring. “You will always have me at your side, darling. I promise you that."

You smile at Leto, feeling something tender unfold in your chest when he returns a smile of his own.

You believe him, and for once, you think you will be okay.

—

taglist: @pigeonmama

please note that i’m starting a new taglist for my fics. if you would like to be included, let me know :)

#leto atreides x reader #duke leto x reader #dune fanfic #duke leto atreides fanfic #leto atreides fanfic #leto atreides x you #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #my fics

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lialacleaf · 10 months

Text

To Care For A Woman

Chapter 2

Simon Riley X Reader

Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not...

Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception, I'm sorry it's unedited...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Reader POV

You were swimming in a deep pool of black, waves of some syrupy feeling caressing your mind, interrupted by the occasional pinch or sting. You felt the black ebbing away, replaced by the metallic smell of blood and the sting of bright lights in your eyes. You let out a sharp whine as the pinch became an agonizing, burning pain in your left knee.

A choked sob followed as you slowly regained your awareness. You were laying in a hospital bed, and a medic was carefully redressing your injured leg.

“Where’s Lieutenant Ghost?” You asked, remembering how he’d been shot down aiding you in your escape.

“Busy. Said he’d come by once you were awake to deliver the news.”

Your brow furrowed. The news? What could that possibly mean? You couldn’t be in trouble for the mission having gone bad. Your lip trembled as the medic finished their work and left.

Maybe Ghost had been right to leave you out of missions before. The pain in your leg was agonizing, and you wanted to curl into a ball and cry. You were all alone in a place you didn’t belong, and you were suffering, but all you could feel was anger at yourself. Anger that you just weren't good enough for the job.

A small part of you wanted to call home, but you couldn’t bare the thought of putting anymore stress on your parent’s shoulders.

You felt helpless, more so than usual, and you couldn’t stop the shaking in your hands. A knock sounded, drawing a shaky gasp from you lips.

You felt you shoulders tremble as the imposing figure of your Lieutenant quietly slipped into the room.

Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles straining against the black sweatshirt he wore. He simply stared at you through the holes in his mask, not saying a word.

You felt a shudder run down your spine as he took a step closer, holding out a tan folder to you.

“What’s this?” You asked, your hands trembling as you reached for it.

“Your discharge paperwork,” he answered curtly.

“From the hospital?” You asked, your voice wavering.

“From the 141.”

Your stomach dropped. “No,” you pleaded, voice wavering. “No, Ghost…please, no,” you begged, fighting back the tears threatening to run down your cheeks and expose the turmoil of your heart.

“This isn’t up for discussion,” he said sternly as you opened the file. “Have it signed by the end of the day-“

“It wasn’t my fault!” you interrupted, your lip quivering. “I did everything right! Please, you can’t do this to me.”

“This isn’t about the mission,” he stated gruffly. “This is about your injuries. You’ll be lucky to walk on that leg again. You’re unfit for duty.” His eyes bore into you with an intensity that made you shudder.

“You don’t understand, I don’t have anywhere to go. I can do other things, work in the office, do paperwork-“

“I’ve already spoken with Price. You don’t have high enough clearance for that,” he stated softly. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy for you. You both did. You were just a rookie. You’re pension would be little to nothing, and your injury would make it even harder for you to find a way to support yourself.

Ghost watched carefully as you took a shallow breath, a few stray tears sliding down your cheeks. “Are you happy now?” You asked with a thick swallow. “I know you didn’t want me here in the first place,” you accused.

It didn’t matter that you had saved his life, and quite possibly sacrificed any quality your own would have had otherwise. “You should have just left me there,” you whispered, and Ghost stiffened.

Silence hung in the air and your throat burned as you tried not to burst into tears.

“I’ll work somethin’ out for you,” he said gruffly, as if he was uncomfortable making you such a promise.

“You said Price made his decision-“

“I’ll work somethin’ else out,” he clarified. “Get those papers signed,” he said, turning on his heel and leaving you to shake your head and quietly sob into you hand.

Simon’s POV

He couldn’t watch you cry. The idea of your little sobs took him right back to that night that he thought he was going to watch you bleed out on the way to the hospital.

He’d considered yelling at you for what you had done, but then his mother’s frightened face flashed in his mind, and his stomach dropped. He didn’t want to be his father, didn’t want to be the man that made a helpless woman cry or feel fear from his presence. He wanted to make sure you never had to cry ever again, and he was about to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe and sound.

“You’re bloody mad, Simon,” Johnny said as he looked at the piece of paper he’d had prepared that afternoon. “Hope it works out.”

He hoped so too. More than he was willing to verbally admit to the Scotsman.

If you didn’t agree to it, there was nothing more he could do to help you. But he wasn’t going to let you just slip through his fingers without trying.

Reader’s POV

You cried for every medic that walked into your room, despite telling yourself over and over again that you wouldn’t. Something about watching them tend to your leg made the situation too real.

It was lonely in the hospital room, and the hum of the air conditioner was starting to give you a headache. Or maybe that was from all the crying you’d done.

A small part of you was scolding yourself for wasting time being emotional when what you really needed to be doing was making a plan. You needed to figure out your next steps before the hospital politely kicked you off base.

You couldn’t even walk, and there would be no one to care for you during your recovery. How the hell were you supposed to survive?

He didn’t even knock before entering, and you were quick to wipe your checks as Ghost approached your bed at a steady pace, another damn tan folder in his hands.

“More bad news?” You asked bitterly.

He let out a deep chuckle in response. “Depends on how you look at it.” His accent was thick, and you couldn’t help but catch the tinge of nervousness in his voice. It had to be bad for Ghost to be rattled.

“I’ve got a…friend, and he’s willing to help you out.”

He placed the folder gently in your lap and flipped it open. You felt your chest tighten and your eyes narrowed in confusion.

A marriage certificate. It was a marriage certificate with your name on it. “What is this?” you asked.

“A way out.”

“Really?” you asked incredulously. “Cause it seems like a nasty joke! Who the hell even is Simon Riley?”

“Does it matter? He’s agreed to take care of you,” Ghost muttered.

Indeed he had. His portion of the certificate was signed and dated. “In return for what?” You asked bitterly, voice thick with emotion.

Ghost clicked his tongue softly and sighed. “I wouldn’t send you somewhere potentially unsafe,” he assured you, brown eyes boring into you as he tilted his head to the side.

“I have a feeling you’d send me anywhere if it meant you never had to see me again.”

You could tell he was frowning at you under that mask, and you swallowed thickly. He’d never exactly been kind to you, but not unkind either. He’d simply excluded you, making it harder to have anyone on your side.

“You got another option I don’t know about?” He asked, holding a ballpoint pen out to you expectantly.

You stared at the object for a moment, feeling your lip begin to quiver again. No. Not in front of him. You snatched the pen from his grasp and hastily scribbled your name down, sucking in a deep breath as you did so.

“Atta’ girl,” he praised, patting you on the shoulder. You handed him the paperwork without meeting his gaze. He must have thought you to be a sell-out, that you were pathetic. Maybe you were. You just hoped you hadn’t made a terrible mistake with this Simon Riley.

AN: well, well, well. I hope you’re all on the edge of your seats! Thank you to everyone that has been interacting so far, I can’t explain how much that means to me! Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list! Thank You!

Tag list: @warenai @livynicole @ghostlythots @hilowhiho @mrmountainman @miamia89 @shiraya92 @crocodilefeet2707

@zzariyahchan @gaida-511 @misshoneypaper @soldierlass @dazaiscum @mockerycrow @kaysav608 @classygardencroissantcolor @innerskylover @kristalhi @hotaruteba @tzutology @sushiumex @l3xiluve @immajustlikeok

@iplayghoul @linoskitten11 @zollaris @whore-for-anime @migeuloharaslxt @blog-luvdance @embermdk @buttercupmuffins

Gosh, I think that's everyone. I think some of y'all have settings that didn't allow me to tag you so I apologize if you don't get a notification. I did my best. Also, my dyslexia had a helluva time with some of the names XD Love you guys! Thanks again for your support! <3

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #mw2022

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yandere-daydreams · 10 months

Text

Title: Scorched Earth.

A Grab Bag For A Very Lovely Anonymous Commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Warrior x Reader.

Word Count: 1.3k.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Mentions of War/Death, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Kidnapping.

You saw the torchlight hours before he reached your cottage.

Bright and brilliant, a red stain ebbing through the trees and bleeding into the dark sky. The forest was dense, the canopy stifling, yet somehow, the light he and his soldiers carried was awful enough to pierce through it all, to burn away every behind them and fill the open air with thick, choking smoke. You could’ve tried to flee, it wasn’t as if you couldn’t guess what was coming for you, but you didn’t keep a horse, and you knew better than to stave off the inevitable. He’d catch you, no matter how far you ran, no matter how many times you refused him. He’d promised as much, the first time he declared that you’d be his.

Rather than escape, you stayed where you were, perched on the rotting wooden steps leading up to your door and watching the oncoming flare. His scouts, dressed in black and prone to circling your meager home like vultures, reached you before he did, then sergeants, piling in by the dozen, well-armed and jeering and carrying his insignia with a sort of heady arrogance. Finally, he emerged from the growth, surrounded by his lieutenants and mounted on a sleek, grey steed larger than any you’d ever seen before. He was a far cry from how you’d seen him last – his bandages gone, his pitch-black hair grown down to his shoulders, the rags you’d been able to lend him traded out for shining armor clean enough to catch the torchlight and glow scarlet. A great-sword sat at his hip, two more curved blades crossed over his back, but you couldn’t seem to find much joy in his fortune. Not when you’d soon be counted among one of his many, many precious things.

As he dismounted, the movements practiced to the point of thoughtlessness, you rose to meet him, hyper-aware that this would likely be the last time you’d be able to stand on equal ground. “Wren.”

It wasn’t his name. You’d misheard him, the first time you asked; made what you could out of the slurred syllables he’d been able to spit out and never found the time to look back. Even when he started to recover, when he was able to hold onto consciousness for longer than a minute at a time and more than just your clumsy stitching held the jagged cut stretching from his shoulder to his hip shut, he always failed to correct you. His real name – Wyvern, given to him as an unknown orphan after he slayed his namesake and delivered its head to a king who’d let him massacre armies and rampage through the countryside as he pleased – was something you had to learn the day he left, the day he told you who he was and why you’d found him bleeding out in a stream all those months ago. He’d asked you to come with him, back to the castle, and through tears, you’d told him that you wouldn’t have helped him if you’d known you were saving the life of a murderer. He’d tried to kiss you, and you slapped him and told him to get out of your cottage.

It wasn’t his name, but he smiled like it was, taking a step toward you. His soldiers started to close in, but he held up a hand, keeping them at bay. “Beloved.” It was a familiar petname. It used to make you blush, stammer, want to make flower crowns and kick your feet and learn to play some ridiculous stringed instrument. Now, it just made your stomach turn, your vision dim at the edges with rage. “I’m sorry I took so long to return to you. I had to gather a few friends – thought you should meet the future guests of our wedding.”

There was cheer from his soldiers, a flash of a grin from Wren. You stiffened, squaring your shoulders, but he remained unaffected, his expression only softening as you forced yourself to respond. “I meant what I said. I could never love a man with blood on his hands.”

If he heard you over the milling of his soldiers, the crackling of his torches and the distant sounds of the forest’s nightlife, he clearly wasn’t listening. Rather he closed the remaining space between you and him and took you in his arms. Your feet were off the ground in a moment, your chest against his chest in another, being spun idly as he let out a throaty laugh. “God,” he sighed, when he finally came to a stop. The sharp corners of his plated armor dug into your skin at odd angles, and his hold on your waist was tight enough to bruise. You’d had to ask him to be gentle before, to mind his inhuman strength when he touched you, but it was a lesson he just couldn’t seem to take to heart. “I missed the sound of your voice. I’ll have to take you with me on my next campaign - I don’t know if I could stand to leave you at court for all that time.”

“Put me down,” you hissed, hitting his shoulders with as much force as you could manage. He abided you, but didn’t let go of you – just moving his hold from your hips to your hands, taking them in his own before you had time to pull away.

“I couldn’t. I absolutely couldn’t. Most of the knights are absolute bastards, and you’re too sweet – they’d try to take you for themselves in a heartbeat. No, I can’t let you out of my sight for a moment, can I?” He paused, his face lighting up with apparent zeal. “You’ll adore the castle. I’ve already secured a cottage on the edge of the grounds, and you’ll have full reign of the gardens. We won’t have to—”

“Stop.” You attempted to wrench yourself out of his vice-grip, and when that failed, let out a ragged groan, tears already forming in the corners of your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“That’s not true.” His smile didn’t so much as waver. “You saved my life. You told me that you loved me, and I love you, too. How would either of us ever be happy if we were seperated?”

Something deep in your chest ached. It was impossible to look at him and not picture the countless mornings you’d woken up by his side, the countless days you’d passed teaching him how fish and tend to a garden, the countless nights you’d spent bundled beside a fire sharing stories with a man you thought you’d loved. It was impossible not to think about what he’d done and wish you’d driven that knife into his stomach yourself.

“I can’t love someone like you,” you said, finally, because you couldn’t bear to say anything else. “And I’m not leaving my home.”

At that, you could’ve sworn you saw something register in his dark eyes. He was quiet, his enthusiasm fading, and for a second, you thought he might’ve understood. For a second, you thought he might call away his soldiers, get back on his horse, and leave you to your quiet suffering.

Then, he leaned forward, his lips coming to rest against the top of your head. “Beloved,” his voice was low, stifled your skin. “You don’t have a home. Not without me.”

Abruptly, he pulled away from you, raising a hand and looking toward his soldiers. While you were left in the dark, they knew their signal, surging forward in a chaotic wave of yelling and footsteps. You pressed your form against Wren’s side, clenching your eyes shut and bracing yourself, but there was only a burst of heat, a sudden visible even through your eyelids. Another kiss, this one pressed into your cheek and chased with a soft chuckle.

When you could bring yourself to look, you found not a volley of arrows or a hundred swords all pointed at your neck, but your cottage engulfed in flame, shining golden in the oppressive night. Your shoulders fell, your mouth opening, but you failed to make a sound. Wren wasn’t as stunned, grinning as he pulled you close and pressed his lips into yours, the kiss delicate and tortuous all at once.

“Don’t worry,” he muttered as he pulled away, his tone so soft and so gentle, you could almost tell ignore the blood-soaked cruelty lingering just underneath it.

“The only home you need is with me.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere soldier #yandere royalty #yandere knight #yanderecore #yancore

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megalony · 19 days

Text

What's My Name

This is a new Tommy Kinard imagine, I hope you will all like it. Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @shauna-carsley @dottirose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1

Tommy Kinard Masterlist

Summary: While they're both on shift, (Y/n) starts to become disorientated and unwell. And Tommy and her dad don't know what to do when she starts having memory problems.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A quiet grumble vibrated at the back of Tommy's throat and his eyes furrowed and winced in his sleeping state. The end of his nose crinkled and he frowned, confusion flooding his brain as he began to wake up.

Why was he waking up? Why did it feel like he had only just gone to sleep five seconds ago? Surely the alarm wasn't going off already?

When he blinked and tried to gain awareness of his surroundings, he groaned again. The bedroom was pitch black. It was still late into the night, or possibly early in the morning. It wasn't the alarm that had woken him. After another second, Tommy realised it was his phone quietly vibrating on the dressing table which he could hear.

Tommy's nose crinkled again when he took a deep breath and started to realise how he was laid.

His right arm had gone completely numb and he soon realised that was because his arm was beneath the pillow (Y/n) was laid on. Her neck was directly on his arm and her right hand was clutching his wrist like she thought he was suddenly going to disappear in the middle of the night.

Tommy was laid on his right side with his lips and nose pressed down against the top of (Y/n)'s head. With his height, he usually tried to stay as close to the headboard as he could or else his feet would dangle over the end of the bed.

And his left arm was secured around (Y/n)'s waist beneath the cover, his fingers subconsciously digging into her waist and hip.

With a quiet groan of discontent, Tommy lifted his head from the pillow and pulled his left arm free from the covers. His bare chest pressed into (Y/n)'s back and he took the opportunity to kiss the top of her head while he stretched across and grabbed his phone from her side table where he dumped it when he got in.

He didn't bother to check the caller ID before he answered and pressed the phone to his ear, letting his head flop back into the pillow.

"Hello?" His gruff voice was thick with sleep and two octaves deeper than usual but he didn't care. He could feel sleep ebbing away at his mind until a crisp, low voice crackled through the other end of the line and sharpened his mind awake.

"Kinard, it's Robson."

Oh God, why was his Captain calling him?

When he pulled the phone away from his ear and squinted at the bright screen, Tommy all but huffed in distaste. It was four in the morning. The Captain was calling him at four in the morning. Why? What did he want?

Didn't he know that Tommy had gotten home at half eleven tonight- last night? Just over four hours ago? He had been in bed for all of four hours before being disturbed.

"Kinard?"

"Yeah… yeah, what's up?"

"I've had two people from the A shift call in sick, a chopper should have been sent downtown half an hour ago and I've got a broken train on the subway. I need a pilot and you're on call. Can you come back?"

That wasn't fair. Tommy let his annoyance be heard in the way he growled animalistically and huffed through his nose. He hadn't had nearly enough sleep to be going back on shift, especially if he was going to be there for a while. But did he actually have a choice in this? He was on call. Whether he went in right now or turned up in a few hours after some more sleep, Tommy was still going to have to go on shift.

The sooner he went in, the sooner he could come back home and come back to bed.

"You know I'm supposed to have eleven hours between full shifts, right?" The cocky tone to his voice gave away that he wasn't about to pull the law book out here.

He could, if he really wanted to. Tommy could be petty and state that in his contract, if he had just done a full twelve, or even a twenty four hour shift, he had to have eleven hours before his next shift. It could be classed as breaking the law if he didn't get enough rest between shifts and went back in how after only four hours of sleep and of being at home.

But this was the job. This was what they had to do when they were struggling for staff and it was an extra shift. Tommy could ask to have his next shift off as a swap for coming in today. Then he could recover and spend some time at home with his wife before going back to work.

"Are you gonna pull the book on me, or are you able to come in? I'll pay you double and you can head home early, I swear."

"Double, and I work today instead of my next shift."

"Deal."

When he hung up the phone, Tommy tossed it back on the side table and brought his hand up to rub at his eyes. He'd done a good negotiation there. Usually it was rather hard to make a deal with Captain Robson. He wasn't cruel or harsh by any means, but he wasn't always as easily understanding like Bobby.

He took a moment to run his hand up and down his face and try to wake himself up.

His body was crying out for sleep. He needed rest. But he had a feeling this shift might go quick. The morning shifts usually did pass by swiftly especially if they were busy. And Tommy would clearly be up in the air flying this morning and hopefully he could spend a bit of time back on the ground. Too much time up in the air with a foggy brain crying out for sleep wasn't an ideal situation.

If need be, Tommy would swap with someone on the team and take over on the truck so he could leave the chopper.

After a few seconds, he looped his arm back around (Y/n)'s waist and began to feather his fingers up and down her chest and abdomen. He pressed his chest into her back and tilted his head down until his nose and mouth were pressed into the crook of her neck.

It took him by surprise just how warm (Y/n)'s skin felt against his touch. He could feel a layer of sweat coating her skin and she was radiating heat like a house in winter.

He pressed a soft kiss against the base of her neck before slowly working his way up, leaving open-mouthed kisses in his wake up until his lips reached the tip of her jaw. He peppered his way down her jaw and leaned over so he could peck her cheek. The touch made (Y/n) shiver, but she stayed mostly burrowed down with her face burrowed into the pillow and her hand still gripping his right wrist.

"Honey," His voice was still laced with sleep, but it was much smoother now. He let his teeth graze against her jaw while his palm pressed down against her stomach to try and wake her. "I gotta go back into work now."

Moving his hand up, Tommy let go of her waist and gently curled his hand around (Y/n)'s wrist that was clinging to his hand. He uncurled her fingers from his wrist and pulled her arm up so he could kiss the back of her hand. His touch seemed to stirr her this time. He felt her shuffle back into him and her head tilted in his direction, lifting from the pillow. But she didn't bother to open her eyes.

"Home… going home,"

Her words made Tommy frown. He couldn't be sure what she muttered afterwards, but those words were enough to make him smile and wonder what kind of dream she was having. He pecked her cheek and entwined their fingers, holding her hand against his bare shoulder while (Y/n) nudged her head back until she pushed her temple against his shoulder.

"No, no baby we're home now. You with me?" He waited a few seconds until (Y/n) finally seemed to wake up and listen to what he was saying.

When she didn't answer, Tommy leaned over with his chest pressed back down against her shoulders and he stole a kiss. The touch shocked her awake a little more and he felt the surprise in the way she gasped before her lips began to move against his own and her tongue darted across his lips.

"Babe…" Her voice was nothing more than a quiet pant against his lips and it made Tommy hate himself for agreeing to this.

He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay right here with her, where he belonged. But if he went now, he would be gaining a full day off with her the day after tomorrow- which was technically today since it was now morning. He knew (Y/n) would be on shift today and then tomorrow she would be off and now they could spend the day together.

"I gotta go back to work honey, you gonna be okay if I go?" The thought of leaving didn't exactly sit well in Tommy's gut when he looked down at his wife.

(Y/n) had been off work three days ago with a cold and although she promised Tommy on the phone this afternoon that she had felt better today, he wasn't inclined to agree. And now he could feel her starting to sweat, despite the cold air circulating through their bedroom, he wondered if she was starting to feel unwell again.

If she didn't want him to go he would ring Robson back and try to bargain to go in later this morning if he could. He would go in the same time as (Y/n) went for her shift, if she was well enough. So he could make sure she was alright and actually going to make it through her shift.

"Hm." She nodded and pulled her hand free from his so she could run her fingers across his cheek and steal another tired, sloppy kiss from him.

He knew if she didn't feel well enough she would call in sick. When they first started dating, (Y/n) had a hard time admitting when she was unwell and tried to keep going on shift even if she felt rough or could barely keep her eyes open. Now though, she was more easy-going on herself and understood it was okay to take a break when needed.

And she would be on shift with her dad. Tommy knew his father in law would keep an eye on (Y/n). Bobby would make sure she was okay and send her home if he thought she was too unwell to carry on with her shift.

"Alright then, I'll call you when I'm coming off shift."

(Y/n) grumbled quietly when Tommy's warmth suddenly disappeared from behind her. She no longer felt like she had a full length hot water bottle pressed up against her. There wasn't a secure arm around her waist or a face tucked lovingly into the crook of her neck.

She felt cold and alone and suddenly unsafe without Tommy wrapped around her, engulfing her in his large frame.

She could hear him shuffling around the room, getting dressed in the dark so he didn't have to put the light on and disturb (Y/n). Once he was dressed, (Y/n) suddenly felt his fingers beneath her chin and he tilted her head back into the pillow so her face was aimed up towards his.

"See you soon honey. Love you." His lips glued to (Y/n)'s and stole the little air left in her lungs while his thumb caressed her chin like he was drawing patterns on her skin. When he pulled back, (Y/n) lifted her head, trying to follow his lips and move with him until he pecked her temple and nudged her back into the bed. She needed to get some more sleep.

"Love you." She murmured softly, feeling a dull ache in her chest when his chuckle subsided and his footsteps started to become distant as he left the room.

***

Tilting her head from left to right, (Y/n) tried to get her eyes into focus and take note of her surroundings.

Everything was blurred. She was seeing double.

Nothing seemed to make sense in her mind and everything was spinning.

Her body slumped back until her shoulders and the back of her head bashed into something cold. She let her weight drop back and allowed her body to slide down until she was crouched down on the floor.

She was leaning against a fire truck. Why was there a fire truck here? Where was she? What kind of emergency situation was she caught up in to be near a fire truck? Was she hurt?

(Y/n) moved her hands and held them out in front of her. Both hands were shaking and she could see the veins popping up on her hands beneath her skin. She was burning up. Sweat was glistening on every part of her exposed skin and she could feel it making her shirt stick to her frame. Her body was overheating. Her hair was sticking to her temple and beads of sweat rolled down the side of her neck.

Her lungs burned as she tried to take deep breaths and work out what she was doing and where she was, but nothing was making sense.

You're supposed to help people.

A small, nagging voice in the back of her head tried to make sense of this, but it wasn't working. How was she supposed to help people? What was she supposed to do?

Her trembling hands moved up to cup her ears, drowning out the noises she could hear while her eyes fell closed. Ignoring the flashing lights making her temple throb and the bright midday sun that was beaming down on her like a spotlight.

She wanted to go home. Where was home? Was home near here? Home was with her dad. Where was he? Where was Bobby?

Her hands left her ears and a shudder jolted through her entire body when something on the truck slammed shut. Whether it was a hatch or a door or just someone retrieving something, (Y/n) wasn't sure. But the shockwave that rattled through the metal truck made her head pound and had her body coiling forwards.

She moved to press her hands down on the floor and slowly push herself to her feet, whimpering at how uneasy she felt when she was on her feet and how unbalanced she was. Whichever way her head wanted to lean, the rest of her body slowly started to follow until she was swaying left and right as she tried to walk forwards.

But she didn't know where she was going.

"Hey Bobby, where'd you want me?"

The tiredest smile Bobby had ever seen flooded his son-in-law's face and he watched Tommy hold his arms out at his sides while he took a look around the scene. He walked away from the truck he had just been driving and headed over towards Bobby who was sending his team this way and that to try and make sure every car on this bridge was evacuated.

At least six cars had piled up in a crash and they needed to evacuate them all and assess who needed urgent medical attention, who could walk away from this and who needed transport to hospital.

For a moment, Bobby looked at the younger man in front of him and looked around. They hadn't asked dispatch for air support. They had asked for another team and at least three ambulances, but no one was in dire need of being air-lifted to hospital.

But it clicked when he finally realised that Tommy was in the matching uniform. Dark blue shirt, thick black overalls and a black and florescent yellow jacket. He was here on ground support today. He was here as a firefighter, not a pilot.

And since this was Bobby's callout since his team got here first, Tommy's team would be taking their lead from him.

"Hey… weren't you on shift last night?" Bobby reached over to clap one hand on Tommy's shoulder before he looked around the scene again.

"I'm on call this week."

"Ah. Well, in that case, there's three cars over there who haven't been evacuated yet. Find (Y/n) and take her with you, I need everyone off this bridge."

"Copy that."

Tommy could feel the tiredness washing over him like waves lapping at the sand. But his mind started to vibrate and liven up at the thought of finding his wife. He hadn't seen her at all yesterday from being on shift and they only exchanged small talk last night when he came home and climbed into bed.

He wanted to see her and talk to her and ask if she was feeling any better. And maybe steal a kiss or two if he could.

His eyes darted around the scene as he looked for that familiar style of hair or the matching jacket that had his last name stitched across the back.

It didn't take long for his eyes to land on that all too familiar frame he had memorised down to every last mark, scar and mole on her skin. But as his eyes drank in the sight of his wife, Tommy couldn't help but furrow his brows and tilt his head to one side.

She wasn't walking properly.

For a moment, he thought she might have sprained her ankle or done something to her knee with the way she was walking. But after a few steps, he realised she wasn't actually walking like she was in pain. She was walking like she couldn't seem to hold herself upright.

Her body was leaning forwards while she had one arm locked around her waist and her other hand deadlocked at the back of her neck, scratching into her skin.

He watched the way her eyes danced across him before she went back to scouring the scene like she was looking for something in particular.

Tommy took a deep breath and picked up the pace to meet (Y/n) halfway. He stopped in front of her and reached his hands out to gently hold onto her upper arms and stop her in her tracks. His thumbs brushed up and down her arms over her jacket and he leaned his chest back and tilted his head down until his pointed chin was pressing down into his chest so he could look down at her.

"Honey, you okay?" He tried to smile but (Y/n) wasn't looking at him properly. She was constantly darting her eyes from left to right, briefly looking up at Tommy before she went back to scanning their surroundings like she didn't know or understand what was happening.

He watched curiously as (Y/n) reached her arms out and held onto Tommy's arms just below his elbows and her grip was so tight he could feel her nails digging into his jacket.

She was sweating. And shaking. And she was swaying back and forth like she didn't know how to hold her own balance.

Tommy let his hands glide up her arms to her shoulders and he carefully pushed her jacket off her shoulders. He slid the thick material down her arms and let it fall into a puddle on the floor, curving around the back of (Y/n)'s boots. He could see from how badly she was sweating and her shallow breathing that she was running a temperature and in this heat, she didn't need an extra layer to make it worse.

He pressed the back of his hand against her temple which seemed to bring her back to reality while his right hand curved around the back of her arm. Keeping her stood as close to him as possible and holding her up so she didn't wobble or take a tumble.

"(Y/n), are you with me?" His hand left her temple and moved to cup her chin so he could tilt her head up to interlock their gazes.

"You… you know my name?"

"What?"

Was she trying to joke with him? Was this another way of teasing him because he rarely ever said her name anymore. Tommy had so many pet names for her that he couldn't remember the last time he'd called (Y/n) by her name.

And both their teams knew this too. It was something Evan liked to tease him about while Bobby thought it was endearing since he himself wasn't used to calling Athena anything but her name or the occasional 'honey'.

Tommy let out a small chuckle and rolled his eyes while his head dropped down at an angle. And his thumb began to glide up and down (Y/n)'s chin, moving dangerously close to her lips every now and then.

"I think I know my own wife's name by now, don't you?"

The way (Y/n) latched her hands around Tommy's arms again made him stand up straighter and tense his arms beneath her touch. She was beginning to shake worse and when he realised she had tears trickling down her face, panic surged through his heart that started to hammer away against his ribs.

Tightening his hands around her arms, he tried to force himself to smile to try and keep her calm because he could see she was starting to panic.

He nudged her back until she was taking a few steps backwards, letting him guide her towards the concrete wall separating the two sides of the dual carriageway on the bridge. He nudged (Y/n) back until she took the hint and slumped down onto the concrete wall with a thud. Her knees trembled and her body leaned forward while Tommy crouched down in front of her legs.

"You don't look well, honey what's the matter? Talk to me." His hands left her arms to begin smoothing up and down her thighs instead.

He noticed how she didn't pull away or push his touch away, but the way she was looking at him made him feel uneasy.

Whenever (Y/n) was ill, she could cling to Tommy. Whether that be to get him to wrap her up in a hug or to cling to him for comfort or just rest her head on his shoulder for some form of touch. She would always wrap herself around Tommy and it was something he loved about her.

But she wasn't clinging to him right now. She was barely responding to him at all and it was frightening.

"Talk to me," He coaxed again, his tone gentler and quieter this time, letting her know his focus was solely fixed upon her.

"I… I don't… where am I? I don't wanna b-be here…"

"You're on shift honey, see?" Tommy reached out and feathered his fingers across the LAFD logo on the left side of her shirt before he pointed at the fire truck behind him.

What was going on right now? Why was (Y/n) confused about where she was or what she was supposed to be doing? Where on Earth did she think she was? What did she think was going on to make her this frightened and reverting back into her shell?

"You're important… someone important… I-" The shaking started to increase throughout (Y/n)'s body until she was trembling back and forth on the wall as f she was about to fall down onto Tommy's lap.

Tears jumped free from her lashes and fell down the bridge of her nose, making glistening tracks in their wake as she started to sniff and gasp for each breath.

The way Tommy pushed up on his heels and brushed the tears away made (Y/n)'s heart stutter. She reached out to cup his wrist and kept hold of him, but the fear in her eyes made Tommy want to burst into tears too.

"What's my name?" Utter panic dwelled in Tommy's voice that dropped down an octave as he stared at his wife. "Honey, what's my name?"

She shook her head.

She couldn't answer him because she didn't know the answer.

But despite not knowing his name and not placing who he was, her grip stayed paramount around Tommy's wrist, refraining him from pulling away from her. She was clinging to him even though she didn't know who he was. She was staring at him with such fear and confusion in her eyes that it made Tommy want to be sick.

There was nothing he could do. What was he supposed to do? How could be rectify this and make her remember him and understand what was going on?

"Bobby, I need some help over here."

Tommy moved one hand and waved out until he finally caught the Captain's attention and waved him over. All while his other hand stayed cradling the side of (Y/n)'s face since she was clinging to him.

There was something familiar about him. Although (Y/n) couldn't think of his name or place why she knew the person knelt down in front of her, she knew there was just something about him that was recognisable.

He was important. He was special, but she didn't know why. It was like there was a dream lingering in the back of her mind, telling her that she knew him from somewhere. His face, chiselled and handsome, was memorable and familiar but all the answers were locked up in a safe, hidden away in the depths of her mind that she couldn't delve into.

The more (Y/n) tried to think, the worse she began to feel. The more she tried to think why she was here, why she was dressed so similar to the man in front of her, why she was at some sort of crash sight. Why she was so groggy and burning and on fire and feeling sick. The more her head started to ache.

A sharp pain was igniting in the base of her skull and firing down her neck like bullets travelling the expanse of her spine.

She wanted to be sick. She wanted to close her eyes and go to sleep. She wanted to go home. Where was home? Why wasn't she back in Minnesota? This wasn't her home town, she knew that for certain.

Wherever she was, this was unfamiliar.

"Dad!" As soon as her eyes found her dad rushing towards her, relief sparked so hard in her blood that (Y/n) couldn't feel her hands anymore.

Her body bolted up from the wall so fast she stumbled into the man kneeling in front of her legs.

She felt his hands grapple to hold onto her hips, preventing her from falling onto his chest and keeping her up on her own two feet. Once she was steady again, (Y/n) pushed forward and reached her trembling arms out for her dad.

It was such a relief to have Bobby pull her into his chest that her vision suddenly went white and her mind started to blank and turn to mush. Static fizzled and popped in her ears and her body swayed forward into her dad's arms until he braced his hands on her hips and held her upright.

"Sweetheart what's the matter?" Bobby moved his hand to run up and down her back while he glanced over at Tommy for some sort of explanation.

"I wanna go home."

"She's delirious and feverish… Bobby, she doesn't recognise me or where she is." Tommy's hand reached out as if to rest on (Y/n)'s shoulder but he pulled back, thinking better of touching her if she had no idea who he was. "We need to get her down to the hospital, now."

Tommy swallowed dryly and felt his throat threatening to close up as he looked from Bobby, down to his wife, and back again.

She didn't remember him. She didn't know who he was or where she was or what was going on. The only person she was sure about was her dad. They needed to get her checked out. This had to be more than a simple cold or a fever for (Y/n) to be this confused and frightened and experiencing memory problems.

(Y/n) tucked her face into Bobby's chest and bound her arms tighter around his torso until she was almost cutting off his breathing.

He kept his left arm bound around her middle, holding her weight up for her against his chest while his right hand moved to cradle her face. He tilted her head back so she was looking up at him, and he realised how flushed her skin was and how she was burning up against him.

"Sweetheart… do you know where you are?"

"Home, wanna go home." She muttered breathlessly into his shirt, smothering her face into his chest again so she didn't have to squint in the bright sunlight or focus on anything in particular.

"Okay, let's go get you to a doctor first, hm?" Bobby leaned down to kiss the top of her head while his hand continued to smooth up and down her back.

He didn't want to pester her with questions, not when he could feel her crying quietly into his shirt. Asking questions she couldn't find the answers to was only going to distress her even more and she didn't need that right now.

He leaned his cheek on top of her head, locking eyes with Tommy while he held his radio.

"Hen, I need the ambulance prepped and ready to go… (Y/n) needs an assessment and a trip to the hospital."

They heard a bundle of responses, Hen agreeing with them, Chimney asking if he needed to call Tommy. Evan and Eddie asking what was going on and if she had got trapped or hurt out on the call.

But Bobby didn't answer any of them. He looped his arm around (Y/n)'s waist rather than her back and started to guide her away from the wall and towards the ambulance parked just behind the truck on the hard shoulder. His other arm looped around her chest and his hand began to glide up and down her back to try and keep her calm.

He could feel Tommy close on his left side, keeping (Y/n) held between them while Tommy dared to rest a hand on her shoulder. Relieved when she didn't pull away or flinch or scream at him to let go.

But as the three of them made a slow walk towards the ambulance, Tommy suddenly stopped and jerked his arms out in front of him when (Y/n) started to fall.

Her feet bent awkwardly beneath her and her body tilted to the left, bumping into Tommy's shoulder before she flagged in Bobby's arms and her mind shut down.

Both of them grabbed hold of her, stopping her from hitting the floor with a bang as she went completely limp.

Bending his knees, Tommy curved round so he was in front of (Y/n) and let her head flop onto his shoulder. He curved an arm behind her legs and one around her waist and as quickly as he could, he shifted her round and lifted her up bridal style. Her face stayed pressed against his shoulder while Bobby held her hand and placed her arm across her chest so it didn't hang down at her side.

"We need to go." Tommy watched his father in law break off into a sprint towards Hen to get the gurney from her. His panic a silent agreement that they had to go now and they had to move quickly.

Tommy's eyes darted ahead and then back down to his wife, limp, sweating and trembling in his arms like they were in the arctic instead of under the burning LA sun.

What was happening to her? And why didn't she remember him?

***

"Hey sweetheart, how you feeling?" Bobby let his gaze linger on (Y/n)'s hand that he had been holding for the last hour or so.

He slowly moved her hand so he could kiss the back of her knuckles and run his other hand up and down her arm. He smiled softly across at her, watching the way (Y/n) dragged her free hand to shakily brush across her eyes and nose and wake herself up a little more.

She pushed herself up and took a look around.

She was in a bed. She was in a hospital room, wearing a hospital gown. There was an IV taped into the back of her left hand and monitoring stickers that she realised now felt itchy and uncomfortable over her chest. And she could feel the wires rubbing against the gown and tickling over her arm.

"Cold," (Y/n) murmured as goosebumps started to prickle on her skin when she realised she was actually cold.

She watched the way her dad hung his head down and smiled while he moved their entwined hands to rest down on the bed next to her thigh.

"You were burning up so they turned the A/C on full and put a fan on, you're almost back to normal temperature now though."

It made (Y/n) feel like one of the desserts her dad made for the parties they were always throwing. Like she was starting to melt or become overcooked and needed to go in the fridge before she turned to mush.

But she felt like she was at a normal temperature now because she could register that the room was freezing cold and she was at the point of shivering.

"Alright sweetheart, can you tell me what day it is, or the last thing that you remember?" Bobby let go of her hand to smooth his palms up and down his jeans. He could feel the worry ebbing away in his chest and eating out his heart that was hammering three times as fast against his ribs.

He wasn't sure he was prepared for what answers she might give him. They didn't know if she had been suffering memory loss or if she had just been extremely confused. And they didn't know what time zone (Y/n) thought she was in since she couldn't remember who Tommy was, and she had been with him for the last five years.

It was almost frightening for Bobby to wonder what time (Y/n) thought she was in and what she might or might not remember.

When her dad let go of her hand, (Y/n) suddenly felt even colder and lonesome. She ran her fingers up and down the creases in the thin sheet that was draped across her legs and pulled up to her waist. But when she lifted her gaze, her head tilted to one side and her lips parted.

Something soft swirled in her deep eyes and her lips quirked into a smile as she reached a hand out across the room.

"Tommy…"

She hadn't realised he was in the room with them until now. Her gaze locked on her husband, stood as close to the door as he could get like he thought he might need to make a quick exit anytime soon.

He was stood with one leg crossed over the other and his body slanted at an angle while his left shoulder was pressed against the wall. He was facing the door with his head tilted down so his cleft chin was tucked against his chest. And he had his arms folded over his chest, showing off the way his muscles in his biceps tensed and how his work shirt looked a size too small for him.

But when his name passed through her lips, Tommy's head snapped to the right.

His blue eyes went wide until his pupils almost took over the whole expanse of his eyes and his lips parted, but he couldn't find anything to say.

She recognised him. She'd said his name. She knew who he was.

He pushed his frame off the wall and bolted across the room until he could collapse down on the side of the bed next to her thigh. His hands reached out for hers but her hand was already out, cupping the side of his face before he could grab her.

His fingers glided up and down her arm, ghosting over her pulse point as if to make sure she was actually speaking to him and this wasn't just some kind of wishful dream.

"You know my name." He muttered in disbelief before he turned his head to the right and pressed his lips against her wrist, kissing over her pulse. He leaned his cheek into her touch, wanting to melt on the spot when her fingers cupped his cheek and the underside of his jaw and he felt her thumb going across his cheekbone.

"It'd be a bit embarrassing if I didn't… I married you, didn't I?" Her voice was quiet and crackling from how dry her throat felt, but her words were like the softest string quartet Tommy had ever heard.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

He could of just sat there in awe of his wife and beg her to say his name over and over and over until it was the only thing he could understand and be sure of. But Tommy wanted to make sure she didn't have any gaps in her memory and that she hadn't time-skipped but still forgotten some of her memories.

"I… I was home, getting ready for work… you'd gone really early, but I- I don't remember going to work, or coming here." She could picture herself getting dressed at home. She could see herself looking at the bed with disappointment that she had woken up alone because Tommy had been called away so early.

She had barely gotten to hug and snuggle with him before he was gone again like a vague dream she could barely recall.

The relief in Tommy's eyes told (Y/n) that what she remembered was recent and she could tell he was overjoyed.

Had she really forgotten who he was? What had she said or done to him to make him worry she wouldn't remember him when she woke up? Oh God, what had she done to him?

Tears welled up in her eyes and she could barely register her dad kissing her temple, muttering that he was going to go and get Athena and bring her up before he left the room.

As soon as the door closed, (Y/n) brushed her thumb across Tommy's cheek and bit down on her lower lip to stop herself from crying. She felt her spine clicking into place as she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against his temple. The touch almost made him jump, but the way he leaned his head back and stared up at her with those big doe eyes made (Y/n)'s stomach flutter with adrenaline.

"Baby did I, did I really forget your name… forget you?"

"Only for a moment. You knew I was someone important." The soft, intoxicating smile on his lips made (Y/n) want to smile, but all she could do was take short, puffed breaths.

"Why?"

"You got a viral infection, encephalitis. But we caught it in time, you're gonna be just fine now. And you remember us all and who you are, so no more tears, okay?"

Tommy kissed over her pulse point again before he leaned forward and moved his hands to cradle her face.

He pulled her in for a kiss, tasting the salt tears over her lips and feeling them trace onto his face when she couldn't seem to stop them. He stole the little air left in her lungs and grazed his teeth along her lip while their noses brushed together and he couldn't help but smile against her lips.

"As long as you remember me, honey, it's all good."

#911 imagine #imagine #bobby nash #tommy x reader #tommy kinard #tommy kinard imagine #tommy kinard 911 #tommy kinard x reader

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tmblrcolouredpaper · 20 days

Text

The Distant Sound Of The Washing Machine

pt. 2 of Washing Machine

Summary:

Minho and you take a well needed nap and return to the familiarity of each other's presence.

Minho/ Reader

domestic fluff, cuddling, insecurity, assurance

word count: 1856

'Your hair is in my nose', Minho grunted, frantically turning his head from side to side.

He proceeded to sneeze and hurried to turn completely away from you. His body ebbed due to the sudden reflex and he automatically tightened his arms around you to hinder you from falling off him. Your sleepy whine made him halt all movements and as slowly as possible, he looked down on you.

'Keep sleeping. It's all good', he whispered and pushed your strands of hair down, away from his face and used the opportunity to lovingly pat your head.

He tried to get back into some sort of slumber, but he was already too awake. He noticed the bright sunlight that found its way through the gap of the curtains and the distant sound of birds told him that it was indeed the middle of the day. Your full weight on him was calming and despite the warm spring temperature outside, he was still able to fully enjoy your radiation of warmth.

'Sleepy baby, hm? You need this nap so much, huh?', he cooed, running his fingertips over your scalp.

He gazed down on you, studying your features, getting lost in counting your eyelashes and had to start over again when you slightly move with a big sigh with which you were cuddling into him. He suppressed his smile and frowned when he realized that the only person he was hiding his giddiness from was himself. Ironically, he himself was the person most aware of his adoration for you, so he allowed his lips to take up the space of a big grin.

'I love you', he hushed in a hitched breath, just now understanding that his smile took up all of his concentration.

The washing machine was still running in the adjacent room, and the steady sound put his mind in a meditative state. There wasn't much talking before you fell asleep on top of him, gripping his shirt so tightly that he now understood how his black sweater managed to be so ridiculously wrinkled. He even doubted that washing and ironing it could possibly help evening out the fabric, but he also knew it wasn't necessary to bring it back into its initial state. As long as it helped you, it was fine to him.

His mind repeated your few whispers that you gifted him before your last energy finally left you. He silently reconstructed your phrases about failed exams, rude people, and friendships that ended. The stories weren't new to him. The daily video chats served well as opportunity to share the significant events for the months of separation, but physically feeling your words meeting his ear, paired with your breath and the minuscule nuances of how you tapped his hand when you emphasized something or how you looked away when you were thinking just to return looking back at him with a spark in your eyes that he was only able to see in person, brought the closeness he enjoyed most. Sure, taking your hand, hugging you, kissing you, all of that he loved, but none of that was as much needed as simply being in the same room with you, experiencing you talking to him. Your voice wandering through a room so naturally was what Minho defined as being home.

'I missed you so much', he mumbled and placed a tender kiss on top of your head.

The washing machine's sound faded out, and its beeping announced its work being done. To Minho's dislike the high-pitched repetition of the machine's notification managed to wake you, and he tightened his embrace around you when you started moving in the process of gaining conciseness. He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

Your hair ruffled around his face again, and he desperately started blowing into your direction to keep the tickling strands away from him. When you lift your head, he is met with your frown and immensely sleepy eyes that were still reddened from your recent crying. However, he could also see the little spark of annoyance that you only managed to bring out when you were energized enough. Therefore, the nap must have helped, and Minho smiled at the hope of you feeling better.

'You might have forgotten, but-', you started and were interrupted by a yawn that caused you to nuzzle into Minho's shoulder, before your continued, 'but I am not a cat, so, would you stop blowing at me?'.

You groaned and lied back down, still in need to adapt to being awake and Minho started sorting your hair again, trying his best to braid it what proved to be rather difficult from the position he was in. With a proud hum, he secured his work with the hair tie that he kept around his wrist. The habit of carrying it with him in case you needed it lasted through the whole sequence of being long distant. His arm felt empty without the elastic. He played with it when he was nervous, feeling closer to you. He could pretend that you were just in the next room and about to return to him every second when his fingers stretched the tie only to let it spring back into its original radius. He needed your little mundane belongings just as much as you needed his black sweater.

'I'm sorry, but you are my little kitty and your human form can't trick me. I have seen your soul', he whispered in a hushed laugh and placed another kiss on your head.

'You have seen my soul?', you asked and rolled down from him to the empty side of the bed, causing Minho to move with you to keep facing you. His hand on your waist never left, and he squeezed your soft skin like he always did, an action that never failed to make you a tiny bit shy.

The same happened this time. It is a sensation that strangely carried the sentiment of a tickle, yet Minho did it with the slowed of specific intention, allowing his warmth to transfer through your clothes right onto your skin and for some reason this touch of his directly went to your heart. You were still surprised by your shy smile that heats your whole face. The tickling feeling that he only placed on the surface travelled through your cells, an exponentially multiplying tingle that ultimately assailed your soul that adapted with a bright vibration.

'I did. It's beautiful', he told you with his sickening sweet voice and his mischievous gaze.

'Yeah? It's supposed to match my face, so it makes sense', you returned the demeanour and gain a light playful squeeze on your waist.

'Your face only makes sense for your soul because it's framed by your hair, and who is taking care of your hair looking good? Me', he snorted and placed a smug kiss on your lips, but what started as a complacent reward to him proceeded into a desperate linger.

Being around you was so familiar to Minho, whereas his existence suddenly felt so unaccustomed to the feeling of your lips against his. It is not like he forgot your power over him, but it seemed like his body forgot and now made it obvious that it only functioned as host for his own soul and that essential essence of him wanted to be with yours.

When you pressed yourself further into him, silently returning his kiss, his breath was entirely knocked out of his lungs. The way you proceeded to touch him so tenderly, so fully and attentively convinced him that if ever necessary he toured, just transfer his soul into your vessel, trusting you to continue being his home forever.

'The washing machine is done', he found himself whispering into your mouth and besides your power over him he is now also once again reminded of his incapability to put his deep feelings into words that could make their way to you. It made him sad, the idea that he would never be completely understood by anyone but himself, not even by you. In this life, he would always have to rely on being interpreted rather than understood.

'But our nap is not done yet', you assured him and smiled against his lips, playfully licking over them, and he couldn't but think that his cats were doing that too.

He looked at you and found your eyes that were focused on him. There was this spark, so obviously, so overwhelming to him, that he wondered why no one ever pointed it out, why no one ever mentioned it or seemed even remotely as caught up on it like Minho was.

'I love you', he whispered so quietly that he was sure the phrase only popped up in his head, but you told him the same thing right away.

He involuntarily squeezed your waist again, needing to hold onto the most reliable thing he had in life, and your reaction of nuzzling against him, all shy and giddy, mirrors his hidden away soul's attitude. The faint shadow of the list on the shelf caught his attention and went through all the points he had written down to not forget how he wanted to reencounter you after such a long time, wanting to make sure you understood how much you being in his life meant to him. He was so scared that you would return, grown without him, maybe even outgrown him, so that you would realize that he just wasn't for you anymore. Once the illusion of who he was, who he used to be without being that anymore, bursted, you would just move on. He would let you go, perfectly aware of the pain, pain that you might be able to guess but not fully understand, because he was the one carrying the pain at a place that only he could access.

'What about the sweater?', he asked and heared the tremble in his voice, quickly faking a yawn to conceal his insecurity.

'Got you back', you mumbled and suddenly searched for his hand.

He placed it on yours and let you move it between your bodies. He felt you turning his palm towards you and your lips pressing into it. He let you form his hand into a fist. He wasn't looking, solely trying to follow what you were doing, how you were moving, by tracking the synergy of your both's bodies. His fist was pressed against your chest, and you kept holding this hand to ambitiously that he was sure it was yours now.

'Is that enough?', Minho asked, throwing the words into the air, recklessly waiting if they rain down on you.

'You are everything', you answered and kissed where his heart beat it pounding against his chest from the inside and he decided that he might never be understood like he understood himself, with all the big and small words, intense and nuanced feelings, but your interpretation of him was his favorite, the one that elevates and grounds him and made him believe that his soul could live on in you just as well as it was living in himself.

#lee minho fluff #lee minho x reader #lee minho imagines #lee know fluff #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #skz fluff #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz minho #stray kids x reader

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