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multifandomgirl08 · 2 months

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Give and Take (Kind of Love We Make) [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: Max had a plan in his head for the evening. He had mapped out the track before, and intended to keep to his strategy until they got home.

Warning(s): 18+, Implied sexual content, okay maybe it's more than implied.

A/N: Thank you Anon for your request. I hope you like it! It's a little more than steamy but I couldn't help myself as I was working on it.

Title from the song I Get Off by Halestorm

There is a short morning after continuation in the reader's POV here.

Words: 2.8k

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Nico would be spending the night at Lando’s since he and Y/N were having date night tonight. He was in the process of dropping Nico off before going back home.

"Nico," Max said while Lando was in the other room. Nico had run over to Max and hugged his legs.

"Take care of Uncle Lando." Max wasn't concerned about Nico spending time with Lando. He was concerned that Lando wouldn't know what to do with Nico aside from letting him eat junk food and watch cartoons past his bedtime.

"Max," Lando started to say walking out from the guest room in his apartment. "He'll be fine. I'll make sure that the kid is in bed by midnight."

Max gave Lando a knowing glare.

"10 o'clock?"

Max made sure to look him right in the eyes this time. He and Y/N never let Nico stay up past 9 on a weekend.

"Fine, 9." Lando looked slightly defeated.

Max kissed Nico on his forehead, "Mama and I will pick you up in the morning."

Nico gave a quick nod back.

“No sugar after 8 Lando,” He warned. Lando just nodded and smiled at him. The Brit was going to regret not listening to him.

It only took Max half an hour to drive home. As he walked through the front door of the house, he could hear Y/N from her office that was on the far end of the living room. Probably on the phone with a client or one of her co-workers. He glanced down to his watch, to see that it was only 4:45, and they didn’t have to be at the restaurant until 8.

Max had made his way downstairs to the master bedroom to take a quick shower. If Y/N wasn’t out of her office by the time he was out he could get on the sim for a while, or play Call of Duty online until he had to get dressed.

He was quick about his shower, washing his hair and body. When he got out of the shower he considered shaving but then decided not too. His facial hair looked like it was turning into a full beard if he let it grow out a little more. He discarded his towel into the hamper, walking to his closet to rummage through his drawers for clean underwear, shorts and a shirt. As he was sliding his shorts over his legs he could hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

He poked his head out of the closet to see Y/N walking into the room with her phone in her hand before dropping it onto the sheets of the bed.

“How was dropping Nico off?” She asked.

“Lando didn’t listen when I told him about Nico’s schedule.”

“Then he can deal with the consequences of him not going to bed.” She had slipped into her closet while Max moved to the other doorway that connected to the bathroom.

“How much do you want to bet he’ll call Daniel if he has trouble?” Max knew that Lando would need help.

“I don’t think you give him enough credit.” Max knew right away that she was just saying that to rile him up a bit.

“A bet then?” He asked.

“Pick up duty next week?” He would take that bet.

That seemed fair. He knew that Y/N had to work late next week, so if Lando didn’t need help with Nico, Max could take care of picking up Nico next week.

“And what do I get if I win?” He asked. She only looked at his eyes and he knew that if he was right, it would only be a matter of when he wanted something, not what it would be.

“Deal.” Max kisses her, pulling her into his chest, her hands settling at his sides before he slowly moved away from her. He left her standing there until he heard the shower turn on.

He left the bathroom and made the short walk to the room where his racing sim was. He set up iracing for a quick session. By the time the session would end, he could log off and get dressed and would still be ready to leave before Y/N.

Gianni and Enzo were online and they ran through a quick session. As they were all finishing out the session Max looked at the time on the corner of one of the screens on his sim to see it say 6:28. He was quick about saying bye to the guys, but not quick enough that he didn’t catch Gianni teasing him about his dinner plans before he logged off.

His bare feet against the hardwood floors carried him back to the bedroom, to Y/N sitting on the bed with her hair and makeup already done. She had her robe on, one sleeve was sliding down her arm as she was checking her phone.

Max’s eyes moved up her arm to her exposed neck for a few moments. His eyes moved up her face momentarily seeing her lips covered in red lipstick. The sound of the clang of something against the nightstand made him blink. He caught her eyes, and the small smile that spread over her lips.

Max was quick to disappear into his closet, pulling out black slacks, a white button up, and black dress shoes. As he was getting dressed he kept catching little peeks of Y/N as she pulled on her clothes. Taking hangers out to look at clothes before he saw her settle on a dark blue dress that complimented her skin. He had just shoved his wallet into his pants when he could hear her footsteps against the marble floor.

“Maxy, can you zip me up?” She asked. He looked up to see her standing there in a form fitting dress that hugged her perfectly.

He gave her a nod, and she turned around to see that she had managed to pull the zipper up some of the way. He pulled it up the rest of the way before kissing the back of her neck, where the necklace she was wearing was clasped together.

He could feel her melt under him for a moment, “We have reservations at 8.” She hummed.

“I know,” He whispered into her ear. “I made them.”

It would have been easy to persuade her out of the dress and to just order dinner, but he wanted to take her out. There was a foreplay-like aspect about sitting in a crowded restaurant, and having to wait it out until they got home.

Max had a plan in his head for the evening. He had mapped out the track before, and intended to keep to his strategy until they got home.

She turned around in his arms, kissing him with her hands now in his hair, and he could feel that she was trying to push him up against the closest wall to get her way.

“Mijn leeuwin,” He started to maul against her lips. His hand moved low, finding the slit that was cut in her dress. His hand started to move up, slowly caressing her skin with his fingers. He kept his feet grounded in the marble flooring before forcing their lips apart.

He looked at her to see her pupils blown wide, and her lipstick a small mess. “After dinner.” He muttered. He knew what she was trying to do and it wouldn’t work on him.

He pecked her on the lips quickly before disappearing into his closet to put the rest of his clothes on. He could hear her let out a frustrated huff from the bathroom, before he heard the clicking of heels against the marble.

It didn’t take Max long to put shoes on. When he had walked out of the bathroom, Y/N’s makeup looked perfect, like he hadn’t kissed her and wrecked her lipstick just because she let him. They had left the house before 7, and Max had his hand on her thigh the entire time he was driving. The restaurant was a 45 minute drive, and by the time they were a few minutes away Max let his hand venture up a bit high on her leg. He could feel her eyes on him, but he kept his eyes on the road.

He wanted her to do her best to force him out of the restaurant after they ate while he acted as the perfect gentleman.

When they pulled up to the restaurant, Max got out of the car first before walking over and opening her door to help her out of the car.

Once they were inside, the hostess saw them and took them to a table that was closed off to most of the restaurant. Max let Y/N sit first before a waiter pulled out his chair for him so he was sitting next to her.

They ordered drinks quickly, Max with his normal Gin & Tonic, and Y/N with her usual. Conversation was light before their drinks came. They were quick to thank the waiter.

“Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Verstappen.” The waiter said with a half nod.

Max reached over kissing the back of Y/N’s hand, and saw the sparkle of her diamond ring reflected in the candle on their table.

“I’m still getting used to being called that.” She said to him after the waiter left.

“I’ll make sure to call you that more often,” No one that they knew really called her that. Pierre would throw it out there every once in a while.

They had been looking over the menus, and Max’s eyes had fallen to the appetizers when he felt something smooth press into the leg of his dress pants. It was probably the side of her shoe running up and down his calf. Max looked past his menu to see Y/N had a small smile on her face with her eyes running over the menu, she must think she was being clever.

“Kitten, that won’t work.” He managed to get out before the waiter came back. Their eyes met before shifting over to the waiter.

He asked if they were ready to order, and Max was just about to answer when Y/N had dropped her hand into his lap and gave his upper thigh a squeeze.

“Give us another moment to look at the menu.” She cooly said while Max gave the waiter a tight smile. Max had half a mind to leave a hundred on the table, take her hand and leave.

Max waited until the waiter left again giving both of them a curt nod. Max placed the menu down before dropping his hand under the table, and ran his fingers over her thigh before finding the slit in her dress once again.

He leaned towards her, running his nose over the shell of her ear, and moving his hand closer to her core. He could feel her slightly shudder against his hand.

“If you don’t stop, I will take you home.” He promised through gritted teeth. He quickly moved his hand away after.

He gave it another 10 minutes before she tried reaching towards his waist. After that Max made a quick move for his wallet, leaving a hundred dollar bill on the table and grabbing Y/N’s hand. Too bad for her that she would have to suffer through the car ride back to the house.

They were rushing out of the restaurant after paying the bill. Max gave the valet a 20 dollar tip before collecting the key to his Aston Martin. The drive back to the house would have felt quick if it wasn’t for Y/N’s hand on his thigh running over the fabric of his slacks.

He tried to keep his focus on the road, and was grateful when he finally got to the gate to the house. Y/N was quick to get out of the car once it was parked, walking in front of him with a distinct sway of her hips before making her way through the side door.

Max got out of the car and followed her through the door before he saw her place her shoes to the side in the entryway. He tossed his keys onto the console with his jacket falling over them. He pushed his shoes off letting them pile up under it.

His eyes fell to Y/N’s bag ended up on top of his jacket. She stepped close to him, his hands went to her waist. Her hands slowly moved towards him, settling in the middle of his chest. He dropped his head just a bit letting their lips meet.

He tightened his grip, crushing the delicate fabric in his hands. Her hands slowly moved up and quickly settled in his hair. He started to search for the zipper that he knew was on the back of the dress, getting frustrated when he couldn’t find it, and let a whine slip past his lips.

He felt one of her hands drop from his hair, and took his hand in hers to show him where the zipper was. He pulled away from her letting their lips fall away before opening his eyes to look into hers. The zipper was easy to undo, but he couldn’t look away from her.

“It took you over an hour to get ready just for me to take it all off of you.” He teased.

He saw a light flush reach her cheeks before the dress fell from her frame and pooled around her feet.

She stood there in black lingerie and diamonds. From there Max made quick work of undoing the buttons of his shirt, and she even helped him undo the last few, as laughter fell from both their lips before the shirt ended up on the growing pile of clothes.

Their feet led them into the living room, in a mess of lips, tangled limbs and moans that double paned glass couldn’t muffle. Max let out an audible hiss feeling her nails pressing lines down his back as they moved as one.

Max couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled her outside with him until he was sitting on the couch, and had her sit in front of him. She melted against the side of his chest, and reached for the waist of his pants, undoing the button and zipper before forcing them down his legs the best she could. He kicked them off. He felt her lips on his neck right after and he couldn’t help but reach for her, fully pulling her into his lap.

“You always get like this.” He said, rolling his hips into hers.

“That’s because I need you.” She muttered, pulling away from his neck looking into his eyes. “Always.”

Their lips met once more, and it wasn’t long before the last of their clothes ended up discarded by the couch. The night sky being the only thing that shielded them from the rest of the world.

A while later, Max laid there with his back against the cushion of the couch that was in the backyard. Y/N was curled up against his chest with her leg thrown over his hip, and his right hand settled on her left thigh. He laid a kiss on her forehead, and tried not to groan at the feeling of his back hurting from where she had dug her fingernails into his back. He knew that when he woke up in the morning the red lines would still be there to remind him.

“Maxy,” She said with her head tucked under his chin.

He hummed into her hair as a response as he mindlessly traced random shapes into the bare skin of her back.

“Thank you for taking me out for dinner.” She said tucking a sweaty piece of his hair away from his forehead.

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Verstappen.” He whispered into her ear. She was quick to pull him into another kiss before shifting in his lap. Max had followed her with his left hand on her lower back, feeling her sit up, and let out a groan that was building up in the bottom of his throat as she pulled away from him reaching for something.

He didn’t want her shifting in his lap while he was still inside of her. He opened his eyes to her, shifting her hips down, opening a blanket and settling it over both of them.

“Thought I was going somewhere?” She asked. He just nodded.

He didn’t want to move from where they were on the couch but he had gained quite an appetite. Eventually, they pulled away from each other long enough for him to walk back inside for her phone and order pizza from the Italian place that closed at midnight. They vegged outside while eating, splitting the pizza and a tiramisu feeding each other bits and pieces.

Max placed the blanket that was over them on her shoulders and took her hand, walking through the backyard to the french doors that led to the master bedroom.

They ended up entangled around one another, not caring about their lack of clothing, with the sheets kicked off towards the edge of the bed by the early hours of the morning.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen

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daydreams-after-dark · 23 days

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What's your fanfic fantasy? part 7

Chapter Contents.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 //

Premise: OFC + Chan + Jisung 18+ fanfic. This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?

Chapter Summary: You and Jisung get freaky in the pool.

Warnings: nudity in a public place, unprotected sexual intercourse in a public place, dirty talk, coming inside, orgasms, sexual touch.

The day is beautiful. It’s sunny, warm and the ocean breeze offers just the right amount of coolness on your skin. You remove your shawl that is covering your topless body, and slip into the pool gliding your way to edge that overlooks the ocean. Behind you the holiday house sits high above you, sharing the spacious view with you. It’s calming staring out into the distance.

You reflect on last night. It had been one of the most sensually erotic experiences of your life. It was mysterious and exhilarating, and you felt thoroughly taken care of by Minho.

When you woke this morning he had already gone, but he’d left you a note: “you looked too peaceful to wake.”

You smile at the thoughtfulness, and honestly it was probably a good thing he’d left because who knows what would have happened. A grin spreads over your face at the thought of a morning romp with him.

But you're feeling bothered? Your mind drifts to Chan. The image of him last night on the bed zoned out, eyes glazed over holding his massively painful erection is etched into your mind. And then there was the overwhelming, was it regret? feeling that came over him afterwards and him running away.

You breathe deeply and close your eyes, composing yourself as best you can. Fuck, you hope he’s okay. You haven’t spoken to him or Jisung about last night, and quite frankly you're too scared to. What if they have realised that this is… you're… just… too much for them, and they send you packing? You don’t want to leave. You want to stay with them. You don’t want to hurt them, but what if it’s too late?

You grab the side of the pool and try to shake the wall in anger, letting out a frustrated “grrrr” and try to calm your breath. You're so angry at yourself. You feel like you've fucked it all up somehow. Your friendship, their friendship, their relationship.

Fuck!

You're so deep in thought that you don’t notice someone slip into the pull and scoot up next to you.

“What ya up to Lady?” You're startled, but realise it’s Jisung smiling broadly, and a sense of calm washes over you when you see his face. He’s talking to you. You're relieved but cautious.

“Hey Jisung.” you sigh. “I’m just, you know, resting.”

Jisung smirks. “Yeah sounds like you’d need a rest after the week you’ve had so far.” You glance over at him and he raises his eyebrows up and down a few times, like a cheeky little shit. Okay, good, he’s got his cheeky pants on. Good sign.

“So …Chan filled you in on last night did he?” You say matching his cheeky tone and rolling your eyes.

Jisung slinks in close to your side. You look down to discover that his “cheeky pants” are definitely in the the form of a metaphor only, because he is fucking naked. So, so naked. You feel your heartbeat kick up a gear.

“He sure did,” he whispers deviously. “Until I filled his mouth up with my cock.”

A vision of Chan sucking Jisung off appears in your head. It’s hot. You'd love to witness that one day. Jisung knows exactly what he’s doing to you with his graphic words.

“Just like Chan’s cock was in your mouth.” He says even more deviously, biting his lip and slinking behind you. You feel yourself growing bright red, and you feel his cock bounce against the back of your ass as it bobs around underwater. He wraps his arms around your waist and leans over your shoulder.

“What did you think?” he whispers inquisitively. “What did you think to Chan’s cock?”

You feel everything rush to your vagina, making you feel so fucking horny. Just from a couple of sentences and Jisung’s body up against you.

“Well,” you pause to think knowing full well Jisung will report back to Chan on what you say. Oh God how you had craved to be taken by Chan in some way. Any way. The look in his eyes when he lost control of himself and knelt before you so you were face to face with his desperate cock will be something you'll never forget. The feeling of him fucking your face and the taste of his cum could be something you could get addicted to.

Jisung kisses your neck, bringing you back to reality. He smells delicious like soap and raspberry candy.

“And what about Minho, huh?” he moves on from Chan. “Could you tell it was him when they had you blindfolded?”

Oh Minho. Sweet, sweet tortured Minho. He really is perfect. He really is skilled, ahh those fingers! You clench with pleasure at the memory. And what about after? All you wanted to do in that moment was to make Minho feel good. It was such a vulnerable moment for him and you know that you'll hold that precious memory forever. You hope he actually can experience that with his beloved Hyunjin.

You shake your head “No, Jisung, I really couldn’t tell.” You lean your head to once side to give Jisung better access to your neck. “I eliminated Binnie right away because I have seen his hands are rough, and I eliminated you because - ”

“You know what my mouth feels like on your pussy?” he finishes.

That wasn’t really the reason, but you aren't going to tell Jisung that you knew it wasn’t him because of how vocal and needy he seems to become, and that he wouldn’t have been able to stay quiet long enough.

“Yes, that’s right. I know exactly what your mouth feels like. Everywhere.” You reply with a warm smile and kiss him over your shoulder. It’s a deep, slow kiss and Jisung pulls his arms tighter around your waist bringing your closer against his naked body. His hard cock pressing into your ass cheek obnoxiously.

“I’ve missed you.” He sighs and slides his tongue into your mouth while sliding his knee between your legs so you're straddling his thigh. You automatically press yourself down against him and moan at the pressure.

“Mmm, that feels good, Jisung.” You groan.

“Yeah?” He pushes his thigh up harder against you, eliciting another moan.

You're momentarily startled when his hand slides down the back of your ass. “I also hear that you let Minho finger fuck this little hole too.” He slides his thumb underneath the side seam of your bikini bottoms and grazes your asshole. You hiss through your teeth and grind yourself against his leg.

“Bet you liked that too, hmm?” he growls and applies pressure. Your mind flashes back to Minho’s fantastically skilled fingering and the feel of his fingers dragging and and out of you. But the image doesn’t last long because fuck, Jisung knows how to turn you on and again you're brought back to the present moment.

One hand comes up to squeeze your nipple while his thumb threatens to penetrate your ass. Your head falls back to lean on his shoulder and you roll your hips faster and harder as the tension builds in your core.

“Jisung - ” You gasp as the tip of his thumb slips past your rim and you struggle to maintain your composure.

“And did you enjoy his cock fucking your pussy? Did he fuck you as good as me?” he pushes his thigh even harder against you, releasing and then ramming up into you again. “Did you come on his cock?” Jisung demands angrily.

“Aah,” his aggressiveness takes you by surprise, but it only arouses you more. Jisung is on a mission and you're fucking loving it.

“Yes. Yes I did Jisung…” You manage to say as your breath is jolted out of you over and over again, his thumb pressing in a little deeper. “but only when Chan put his cock in my mouth.” You add at the last moment.

Jisung stops his ministrations and he wraps his arms around you affectionately, squeezing you in for a snuggle. “You’re such a good girl for me and Chan.” He kisses you softly on the side of your neck and then nibbles your ear, and you're able to catch your breath.

“Even when you’re being a naughty, filthy little girl, you only come for us.”

It’s not just a statement, it’s a warning. Your mind flickers back to last night when you were alone with Minho, coming on his cock and him screaming Hyunjin’s name. But you also remember your promise of the “sanctity of the Boudoir”. You never promised Chan and Jisung anything about only coming for them.

“Ah, but Jisung,” you purr “I still wanna fuck Binnie. What happens if he makes me come?” You can’t help yourself, you have to taunt and push Jisung's buttons, see how he responds.

“You’ll be punished.” His whisper is deadly. Your vagina clenches tighter with need imagining being punished by Chan and Jisung. You grind on Jisung’s leg again, and reach behind you to grasp his cock.

“Shhit!” Jisung hisses. “Ah you like the idea of being punished?”

You bite your lip “Mmm-hmm. I bet Binnie is gonna make me come so hard.” You reply with a breathlessness to your voice. You continue to stroke his cock as you slide yourself off his leg. Jisung roughly pushes you up against the side of the pool and you feel a rush of adrenalin. You rest an arm on the edge of the pool while your breasts are being pushed against the concrete wall. He’s angry. You love it.

Jisung drags your bikini bottoms down just far enough so that you can guide his cock to your entrance, angling my hips to provide access. He pushes the tip in ever so slightly causing you to moan with pleasure at the stretch. Then… frustration. He won’t move any further. You try to push down on him and fill yourself up with his cock, but he holds you in place. You whine and protest like a needy little brat.

“Beg.” He demands with the lowest voice yoy have ever heard come out of his mouth.

What the fuck?

“Beg me to fuck you.” He is deadly serious.

“Jisung?” You gasp.

“Beg me!” he snarls. You shudder with arousal at his dominant, assertive tone.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please I need you… ahhh” he pushes half an inch further inside you, but you know he is having a hard time resisting.

“Please… You have to… I can’t - ” You play along, even though you know his neediness will take over and he won’t be able to stop himself. You feel like you're going to lose your mind if doesn’t hurry up.

“Jisung… I can’t stop thinking about you fucking me. I need it - ”

Another inch.

“Jisung… I imagined it was you with your filthy fingers in my ass last night…except… except…I’d bet you would have made me come!”

He bottoms out. He is deep inside you. Finally. He barely gives you the chance to relish the feeling before he starts to thrust into you vigorously.

“Is that better, baby?” he coos. “Arrgh…” he groans. “You’re so ready for me.” He thrusts deeper. “Your pussy missed me didn’t she?”

“Oh my God yes! Yes Jisung!” You cry out, spurring him on to fuck you harder.

“You’re so hungry for my cock that you don’t even care who can see.”

“Yes! Ahuh, starving.” You pant. He feels so fucking good. You really have missed his cock.

“I bet you’re hoping you’re being watched right now huh? Such a desperate, needy girl.” he growls.

Jisung spins you both around so his back is now against the wall. “Look!” he demands, nodding his head towards the house.

You look up at the looming building. If anyone was to look out the window they’d see you on full display, impaled on Jisung’s cock, tits bouncing wildly. There's nowhere to hide.

“Show them how much you love being fucked by me.” He pants.

Realising how exposed you truly are only brings you closer to orgasm and you start to bounce frantically against Jisung.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby.” He says lifting you almost off his cock and slams you back down against him. He lifts you again but his cock slips out completely. You both groan in frustration at the sudden loss of friction, but he uses this chance to spin you around so you're facing each other. He pulls your bikini bottoms off and throws them up on wall of the pool, and you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in close as he turns again and pushes your back against the wall of the pool. You can’t get close enough. You want more. More Jisung. More moments like this.

You are both shaking with desire as you chase your orgasms, clinging to each other for dear life as you fuck each other senseless, not caring who hears or sees. Your mouths smash together in a messy, sloppy way, gasping for breath but also not wanting to break contact.

“Jisung, I’m gonna - ”

“Yes baby, come for me. That’s it.” He encourages you through your orgasm, not taking his eyes off of you. You love orgasms with Jisung. You didn’t know that I did until yesterday. This one is deliciously long, which seems to extend with every thrust of Jisung’s cock, massaging your clenching walls. You don’t want it to end.

“This is the only pussy my cock belongs to.” Jisung whispers, “you’re the only woman for me.” He closes his eyes as he concentrates on reaching his orgasm.

You hold onto him tighter and grind yourself against him, bringing on another orgasm of your own. Why does he have to be so sweet? Why do his words kick you in the guts and make your heart burst? Why do you have feelings for him?

Jisung can’t hold out any longer and he comes hard, emptying himself inside you with a shaky moan.

He slides out of you and snuggles in close. “You really are the only woman for me.” He whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. He brings his lips against yours for the most chaste and shy kiss, like he’s kissing you for the first time.

'You’re the only woman for me'. You think about the implications of his words. You have been, or will be, fucking other men, but you're the only woman Jisung wants to fuck? It hits home. Your heart hurts. Do you really want to fuck Binnie after all?

You stay like this for a while, your legs wrapped around his waist, snuggling, caressing, holding each other close. Please don’t let this end.

“Do you think you’re going to want to fuck Chan?” Jisung asks eventually. “He is pretty good at it you know?” You both chuckle.

“I am sure he is. I just don’t know if he wants me to.” You frown as you think back to your interactions the night before.

“Hey,” Jisung tilts your chin up to look at him. “Why would you say that?” He looks confused.

“Well, he didn’t touch me that first time…you know… on the couch.” You say.

“Yeah, but he was nervous. But then he came all over your face last night.” Jisung tries to reassure you.

“But he ran off so fast, and barely said a word!” Tears prickle your eyes. Jisung strokes your cheek.

“Oh y/n!” he holds you close and you actually start to cry.

“Hey now,” Jisung says soothingly. “Listen. Look at me.”

You look up. His eyes are wide with concern and compassion. He wipes a tear from your cheek.

“Chan wants you more than anyone. Well maybe not more than me… or less than me… definitely the same as me. That came out weird. I mean… Put it this way, your the woman he wants most.”

You laugh softly at Jisung’s way of explaining.

“So why is he helping me fuck other guys then? Why is he letting me if he wants me as much as you say? Why do you let me?” You wail, your voice wobbly as you try to stop the tears.

“Because you asked him.” He says with certainty. “And… I let you because you say you want to.”

You let that sink in. “Is he okay with it though? Are you okay with it?” You ask.

“I just want you to be happy. And he’s only okay if he can watch.” Jisung responds.

You think about Minho again and push that out of your mind immediately. You can’t let that thought creep in. Not now.

“But what about now… you know… you and me in the pool? Would he be okay with that?”

Jisung laughs and gestures up to the house. “Pretty girl, he is watching.” He whispers.

Your mouth drops open. Fucking cheeky bastards.

You shake your head in disbelief. “Jisung!” But he only squeezes you closer and tickles you. For some reason you feel good knowing that Chan was still part of this, and maybe he isn’t upset with you. Maybe things are still good?

“So why hasn’t he…you know… touched me…kissed me, if he wants me so much?” You push. You run your hand along Jisung’s collarbone.

“Simple. You haven’t asked him to.” he replies.

“Is it really that simple? I only have to ask him?”

“Hmm hmm.” He says kissing your neck. “Are you excited for your personal training session?” Jisung changes the subject. Chan must have shown him the text message you sent him this morning.

Text Message to Chan: y/n: I hope you are okay? Chan: Of course. You? y/n: Yeah. Thank you for organising it…. Thank you for being there. Chan: Anytime. y/n: Actually… Chan: ? y/n: Can you organise something with Binnie in the gym? Chan: …. Chan: … leave it with me.

“Only if you and Chan are okay with it.” You reply. You really want to, but you don’t want to hurt them. You don’t want it to be secretly killing Chan when he watches everyone else fuck you but him. You don’t want it to be heartbreaking for Jisung who sounds like he’d probably prefer you not to be sleeping around.

“He’s totally on-board.” Jisung reassures you.

“Jisung?”

“Yes pretty girl?”

You hesitate in asking your next question. “Can you let Chan know that he can kiss me and touch me any time he wants.”

Jisung grins. “Ah, so you want me to ask him for you?”

You feel shy all of a sudden. “Yes, yes please.”

A voice calls out from the living room balcony. “Hey, you two! Do you wanna stop fucking around for a minute and come eat some food?” It’s Minho. Your breath catches when your eyes meet.

“Yeah okay, okay. We’re coming.” Jisung calls back then looks at you and laughs immaturely at the use of the word ‘coming’.

You can’t help but to laugh too.

Fuck! Are you falling in love?

taglist : open

@rylea08 @channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @rixenluv @piscesrising01 @lunearta @shltsnglggles @lilbabiebunni @jiminssluttyminx @armystay89 @krayzieestay @stellasays45 @hxnnielk @yaorzu-blog @anjian03 @tsunderelino @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @privhace @kyunchoni @writhingwrecked @kisses-too-the-moon @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @meilix @ismokeeweed @leftovercigarettes

#skz smut #bang chan smut #han jisung smut #bang chan x reader #han jisung x reader #sorshas fic

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themultifandomgal · 4 months

Text

Jay Halstead- All My Fault

Trigger warnings- hospital, passing out, blood clot on the brain, near death

4 hours, just 4 hours left of my 12 hour shift left. I can do this.

For the last few days I’ve felt like I’m catching the flu but when I woke up this morning I felt so much worse and it’s only getting worse as the day goes by. If this was the start of my shift I would have gone home, but I’m so close to being done and then I have 4 days off to recover. So I’m going to power through the last hours.

“Feeling any better?” I hear my husbands voice. I look up at squint at the brightness off the lights, but I notice Jay looking down at me

“No”

“Why don’t you head home? We’re just doing paperwork” I glare at my partner, Adam

“Don’t jinx it” I groan making Jay chuckle

“In all serious babe I’ll take you home”

“No I’ll be fine” I give Jay a weak smile then return back to my paper work

“At least take some painkillers”

“Fine” I slowly stand up, but Jay places his hand on my shoulder and pushes me back down in my seat

“I’ll get them. You stay put” I give Jay a thankful smile. I look at my computer, but have to blink a few times as my vision blurs, probably due to this migraine that I’m having.

“How long has this migraine been bothering you?” Erin asks concerned

“Have had it a couple days now, just today it seems to be worse”

“Here” Jay comes back with some painkillers, a water bottle and a cereal bar “try and drink all of that and eat this. Might help. If your still not well tomorrow I’ll call Will to come over” I roll my eyes at Jay, but instantly regret it as the pain behind my eyes feels like I’m being stabbed. I take the pills and drink half the bottle then open up the cereal bar.

Finally my shift ends, Jay has another couple of hours, so Adam drops me off home

“You sure your going to be alright?”

“Yeah. I’m just going to have a bath try and eat some toast then head off to bed”

“Ok, but if you get worse please ring me and I’ll come over until Jay gets home”

“Thanks. See you” I wave goodbye and close the passenger side door, get my keys out of my bag and unlock my door. I give Adam one last wave and close the door behind me. Sighing I drop my bag on the floor, take my shoes off and head upstairs into the bathroom. Turning the tap on the blurry vision returns and I stumble backwards feeling dizzy. The last thing I remember is the way my head feels like it’s going to explode.

Jays POV

I return home expecting to see YN in bed asleep, or at least trying to. Heading upstairs I notice the bathroom light on and can hear the water running in the bathroom

“I’m home” I call out but don’t get a response. That’s when I notice the floor is wet. Panicking I open up the door and see my wife on the floor unconscious “YN? YN baby can you hear me?” Not getting a response I immediately take my phone out of my pocket and dial 911

“911 what’s your emergency”

“I need an ambulance at ‘address’ my wife is unconscious”

“How long has she been unconscious for sir?”

“I- I don’t know. I just got home. She’s been home for 3 hours on her own”

“Ok can you check her breathing for me?” I lean down and see if she’s breathing, thankfully yes

“Yes” I breath out

“Ok I have sent an ambulance to you, they should be with you in 5 minutes, keep checking her pulse and breathing until paramedics arrive”

5 minutes go by and they feel like the longest 5 minutes ever. Brett and Dawson arrive, I feel slightly relieved that the paramedics on shift right now are these two as I trust them the most with my wife

“Jay we’ve got her” Gabby says after I lift her onto the stretcher

“Can I ride with you?”

“Sure”

“What the hell happened?” Boden, YNs dad shouts walking over to me sat in the waiting room

“I don’t know. I just came home and.. fuck she looked…” I rub my hand over my tear stained face

“Does will know?”

“Yeah. He’s gone to see if he can find out what’s going on. Fuck I should have brought her here earlier, she wasn’t feeling good when she was at work”

“Jay, Wallace” I look up and see Will walking over to us nervously “I’ve spoken Abrams, she’s in surgery right now”

“What? Why? What’s wrong with my daughter?”

“YN had a blood clot on the brain. Has she hit her head recently?” both will and Wallace look at me. I think back to the other day, before her headache started

“Fuck this is all my fault. She hit her head on a job, she told me she was fine and I looked at her head, there was no bump so I didn’t….. fuck I should have forced her to….” I choke on my own words. This is all my fault.

#jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x oc #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #jay halstead x yn #one chicago #one chicago imagine #chicago med imagine #chicago pd imagine #chicago med #chicago pd

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carmyboobear · 4 months

Text

ALEXITHYMIA CH 1: onions, weed, and pizza

Roommate AU: Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18)

ao3 link ch 2 ch 3 ch 4

Summary: Carmy can’t put into words how he feels about his roommate. It’s only been a couple months, but here he is looking forward to going home and sharing a smoke with them. That’s all it is, though. There are no underlying feelings, none at all, even if everyone around him has something to say about it.

Or: Carmy is repressed as ever, but through the combined power of vulnerability, weed, and the horny, Carmy too can find love.

Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, cursing, yearning, repression, SO MUCH REPRESSION, angst, mental illness, canon-typical imagery, unresolved tension, for now, virgin carmy, use of weed, alcohol, all that good stuff, carmy character study, eventual smut, gender neutral reader, nonbinary reader, up to you

A/N: HI I've never posted fic on tumblr before but i deeply love Carmy...please enjoy!!!

CHAPTER 1: onions, weed, and pizza

It always stays the same.

This is the thought that Carmy has when he wakes up, gasping for a chance to just catch his breath and keep it. It’s a kitchen knife twisting like a lock and key in his chest. It fits just right, as all awful and familiar things seem to do.

No matter how many times he wakes up, he’s never anywhere different. That drowning feeling suffocates him in his sleep and follows dutifully into his waking hours. He can’t remember when that haunting started, only that it’s always been with him.

He hates feeling like a drifter, like he’s lost (even though he is both of those things), so he picks a goal and runs after it like a monster. He’s an animal, hunting and working and bleeding until he fucking makes it work , because that’s who he is, and that’s who he’s always been. He can’t not make it work. Because if he can’t do it, then…then what was it all for?

What is he even for?

These are the thrilling thoughts that serve as the background music to the swirl of his cheap morning coffee, oils rotating in a slow circle. He thinks about getting a nicer brand next time he goes grocery shopping. But that would mean change. That would mean less money on the restaurant, too.

Yeah, so it tastes like shit, but it doesn’t matter. Even if it mattered once. Less and less matters to him these days.

Mornings in Chicago are not technically quiet by definition, but when compared to other times of day, they are. Especially when most of his day is spent in the kitchen wringing out his throat. It isn’t bad to have a quiet morning by normal means, but for him…

The quiet is dangerous.

It’s not silent, but it’s not enough. There’s distant beeping of impatient cars. The whirring sound of the old AC unit. He tries to listen to them, but his rampant thoughts nonetheless rise above them all, buzzing everywhere with nowhere to land.

A brief analysis of his thoughts reads as such:

Beef sandwiches eggs flour shipment Michael cigarettes smoking sore throat late shipment so tired not sleeping Michael Sugar Mom coffee tastes bad it’s too early my stomach hurts Michael fucking hates you Michael Michael Michael Michael Michael you piece of shit you fucking ki—

“Mornin’, Carmy.”

Until his roommate wakes up, that is.

When he moved back to Chicago, there was a fact, plain, simple, and unchanging. He wasn’t gonna make rent on his own, not with the restaurant. Not with everything. So maybe he didn’t need to deal with a new roommate, but it’s not like there was a choice. It seemed bearable, survivable enough.

He keeps waiting for the thing that’ll make him grit his teeth, make him regret not getting a place on his own, but it never comes. They’re easy to live with. It’s so easy, as a matter of fact, that it feels strange. The difficulty that he was so certainly expecting just isn’t there.

If anything, he looks forward to being at home. For someone who lives at work, that feeling is completely foreign.

They don’t steal his food (not that there’s much). Instead, they cook him food, leaving heated leftovers on the stove on late nights. In Carmy’s case, that’s most nights. They don’t bring over obnoxious company and keep him up with the noise. Rather, he basks in their company, and they make a ruckus between their laughter. Their presence doesn’t stifle him, it soothes him, just like the candle they leave lit in the kitchen for him when he comes home. They’re not just easy to live with, they’re good to live with, and that’s…

That’s been a hard adjustment, Carmy would say. It’s too much of a good thing that he’s not sure what to do with himself.

On those late nights, they’re usually fast asleep by the time he’s home. But as he sits and eats the leftovers they’ve kept for him, he wants to say something. Something about how a long time ago, there was once a Carmy who cooked for himself, who looked after himself, but that he’s not that Carmy anymore. That it doesn’t matter that he’s a five star chef and they’re just some guy in the kitchen, as they would put it, because he’s…

He’s grateful. Incredibly so.

And yet, the words will never come out. He feels the words tingling on his lips, but it feels scary. He can thank them as many times as he likes (which he does) but it will never capture what he’s really trying to say when he says thank you . There’s too many words, and it just can’t…it just can’t—

It always stays the same.

“You’re up early,” he says to them when they enter the room. It’s a rare sight to see them up at the early hours he frequents. He sees the morning drowsiness in their mussed hair and big t-shirt stained with hair dye. They yawn back at him, nose scrunching.

Cute , he thinks, and he stamps it down as soon as it flashes through his mind.

“Randomly woke up.” They fall into the empty seat next to him on the couch, and they rub at the crust around their eyes. “About to head off to work?”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he replies. There’s a certain sentiment that lies on the tip of his tongue, something about how he wishes he could have a slow morning with them instead. Of course, he can’t voice it. He can’t even come close.

“The plague of the working man,” they sigh. “Well, I got an idea that might cheer you up.”

“...And that would be?”

“Let me paint you a beautiful picture,” they start. They clear their throat and gesture widely with their hands. He notices their chipped nail polish, the writing callus on their middle finger. “Imagine this—you come home from work, tired. You need to relax —something you need to do more often,” they add with a pointed look. No comment. “And I have dinner ready. Some sort of soup, pasta maybe. I need to check the fridge.” They pause with a yawn. “And before we eat, we smoke a big, fat joint.”

He snorts as they finish, unable to hold back a laugh.

“That’s a nice picture,” he admits. He doesn’t remember when he started smiling. “Y’know, I was wondering when the joint was gonna pop in.”

“You fucking know me, man,” they reply, blooming with his interest, his smile. Not that he can perceive that. “So? Thoughts? Haven’t done that in a while, right?”

“Right, right,” he echoes faintly. His mind is already sorting through the pile of tasks on the schedule. “Well, I gotta go over this new recipe with Marcus, today,” he mutters, partially under his breath. “But before that, ingredient orders. And those invoices before the end of the day—and that, that toilet guy was supposed to come today…I think?”

“Dude, I do like, one task, and the day’s over for me,” they say sympathetically, and the look on their face is so serious that Carmy struggles to hide his smile. “You’re crazy.”

“I, I’ve seen you do tasks,” he argues.

“Name one,” they argue back.

“You did two loads of laundry and did the dishes all before lunch time once,” he says, the memory clear and instant. “And when I woke up, you were vacuuming the whole place.” The immediacy surprises him, and it seems to surprise them, too.

“Damn, I said name one , but I guess I’m just that good!” They laugh, a breathy, exasperated sort of thing. “Well, point taken. Anyway, it sounds like you’re not gonna be home early tonight.”

“It is a Friday,” he says, “but…”

“But.”

“Can’t make promises I can’t keep,” he sighs, and shame melts over him like butter on a stainless steel pain. This isn’t anything new.

“I know, I know,” they say, gracious as ever. “It’s okay. Such is the life of a business owner, yeah?” He searches for some thinly veiled shred of disappointment, frustration in their expression, but he doesn’t. No matter how many times he lets them down, the explosion he’s waiting for never comes. They remain patient, collected through it all.

Says more about him than them, he supposes.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “such is the life.”

“C’est la fucking vie,” they say, and he laughs with a shake of his head.

It can feel strange to laugh. He worries that the lightness in his chest will expand like a balloon, and he’ll float away. It’s uncontrollable, foreign. It should be scary, how his emotions lead him when he’s around them, not the other way around, but it’s not.

It’s not scary to loosen up around them, and that’s the scary part. There are no words to describe why. All he can see is that the fear exists, stubborn and persistent. That fear is what makes him snap out of it, makes him look at the clock. He holds back a sigh.

“Time to go,” he mutters, and they nod.

“And time for me to go back to bed.” They salute him. “Best of luck with your day, brave soldier. And just shoot me a text if you do end up coming back early, ok?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll try. And, thanks. You, you too,” he gets out. He stands up, readjusting the waistband of his pants. “I’ll, uh, see you later.”

“See you,” they say through a yawn, waving at him from where they’re lying down. They’ve taken his spot, sprawled across the couch, tangled hair flayed out on the pillows.

Cute , he thinks again, and hearing the thought in his brain makes him wanna panic.

He doesn’t wanna panic, doesn’t wanna think about it at all, so he nods, shuts the door, and heads out to work with a cigarette hastily lit in his mouth.

By the time it’s Carmy’s lunch break, he swears his vocal cords must have snapped by how tight he was wringing them.

The soreness has never stopped him from lighting a cig, though. As he stands outside in the back, finally forced to go on his 30, he smokes rather than eating. There’s a sandwich in his pocket, one that was bearing the brunt of test ingredients. He can feel the aluminum wrapping at his fingertips.

Eventually, he does eat, though, because he sees the way his hands are shaking when he flicks his lighter. He doesn’t wanna shake when he uses a knife, so he eats. He tastes it, but he doesn’t really taste it.

In truth, he wasn’t even planning on taking his lunch break at all. Most days, he forgets about it. The kitchen’s always busy, there’s always something missing, there’s always something that hasn’t been prepped that’s ruining everything, the lights in the hallways keep flickering because they need to fixed, Fak’s supposed to fix them, but he can’t, because Richie’s still out getting the replacement bulbs, the pile of papers on his desk are bigger than he remembers, he doesn’t have enough fucking time—

But then he’s in the middle of chopping an onion, and the cutting board slips. The half-chopped onion and its sliced offspring scatter on the floor with the cutting board. The sound of its fall draws Sydney in like a whip.

“You okay? Need a bandaid?” Sydney’s already kneeling by him, helping him pick the onions off the floor.

“I, I’m fine, didn’t drop the knife,” he explains, and it feels like an ocean current is rushing by his ears. “Fucking, I just—such a stupid fucking—” He sucks in a breath and goes silent.

His entire body feels tight, wound like a spring. He can barely fucking breathe.

“Hey.” Carmy turns his intense stare from the onions to Sydney, and when he sees her searching expression, he remembers himself. “Maybe you should go take your lunch break.”

“No, I’m fine, really,” he repeats, and he feels like he’s heard this before. From someone else. He can’t remember. Who was it? “The onions—we’re behind on onions—”

“I can handle onions for 30 minutes,” she interrupts, decisive and firm. “Seriously.”

Carmy’s about to say something, but then he’s looking at the onion half in his hand. His hand is shaking.

“Okay,” he sighs after a beat. “Okay, yeah. Sorry. For fucking up.”

“It happens. We all have our moments.” She shrugs. When he keeps standing there, she makes this shoo-ing motion with her hand. “Go on. Take your 30!”

So here he is, taking his lunch break a whole hour later than he’s supposed to. Although it’s better than most days where he doesn’t take it at all.

She wouldn’t have had to tell you to take a break if you didn’t fuck it all up, he thinks to himself, eyebrows knitted together. When the last time I’ve fucked up something so fucking easy?

He thinks about his dream from last night. A familiar sight of red fire and flames up to the ceiling, crackling so loud it sounded like screaming. The only good part is that when he woke up, he wasn’t at the stove burning his place down. It hasn’t happened at this apartment yet. Carmy hopes it never happens.

Just get it together, he thinks. He aggressively taps the ash out onto the decrepit ash tray they have in the back. It’s full. You’re supposed to be at this shit. So just be good.

“Cousin.” Carmy snaps his head up, and Richie’s at the door, stepping out. His presence yanks him out of his inner whirlpool, a quickly descending spiral. “Gimme one.”

Wordlessly, Carmy hands him a cigarette. Richie plucks it out of his hand like a flower.

“You had a lighter, but no cigarette?” Carmy comments, squinting at Richie pulling a busted up red lighter from his jean pocket.

“Shut up,” Richie mutters, but there’s no heat behind it. “Got the wrong damn light bulbs,” he explains unprompted.

“Alright,” Carmy sighs. He has so little energy that the frustration bypasses him completely, diving instantly into deflated acceptance. “Just return ‘em.”

“Can’t,” Richie says, and when Carmy gives him a look, he elaborates, “no receipt.”

“ Dude .” Carmy opens his mouth, but then he shuts it again. It’s just not worth it. “Thanks anyway, cousin. We’ll get it done.”

“Don’t fuckin’ thank me, you asshole. I didn’t do shit.” Richie nudges him, but like before, it’s not an angry thing. “Also, toilet guy’s not comin’ today.”

“The fuck? Why ?”

“Canceled,” he replies simply.

“Fucking hell,” Carmy mutters under his breath. “Did he say when he could reschedule?”

“Not yet.”

“Great.”

“Yep.” Richie tilts his head up, blowing out a slow stream of gray cigarette smoke. “Might as well wait for Fak to get his ass back in town at this rate.”

“I guess.” Carmy sighs. He thinks about all the things he still needs to do. “I dropped this onion I was chopping, earlier,” he mentions out of nowhere.

“Okay.” Richie gives him a look. “And? You bitches chop those things up faster than I could cut one in half.”

“I dropped it on the floor,” Carmy tries again, but Richie’s expression remains unchanged. “I never do shit like that.”

“Well, cousin, you did.” Carmy feels something in him deflate. “What’s the big deal?”

“Nevermind,” he replies, because he’s a coward. “Just—just forget it.”

Silence. The spark of a lighter.

“I’m gonna leave early,” Richie says, like he can just do that. Which…he can, Carmy supposes. “If no one’s gonna show up, what’s the point?” He slaps Carmy’s back, and Carmy doesn’t watch him as he heads back inside.

Guess all I need to do later is get rid of those papers on the desk , Carmy thinks to himself, idly moving the shortening cigarette between his lips. Then that’ll be it, I guess.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s gone home early. It’s hard to even imagine what he does on days like those. Sleeping, probably. There’s nothing much else for him to do, not with how tired he is—

Shoot me a text, okay?

He hears them in the back of his head all of a sudden, and he remembers.

Oh, he remembers, hands moving to take out his phone. Almost forgot.

“Sorry to bother you, chef.” Carmy’s not sure how he didn’t hear the door opening. Marcus’ head pops out, nose covered in flour. “Just wanted to let you know that we’re gonna need more flour for tomorrow.”

“Order’s not gonna come for a couple days. I thought we had an extra bag left,” Carmy tries, but the guilty look on Marcus’ face explains it all.

“Dropped it,” Marcus grimaces, and Carmy’s already fucking over it.

“We’re all fucking up today, chef,” Carmy replies, and the day goes on.

. . . . .

It’s a strange, delightful miracle, but he manages to get out of the restaurant before the sun sets.

Considering their collective track record, the fact everyone was able to leave early was cosmic intervention. It helps that the toilet guy didn’t come, in an unfortunate way, but still. Standing outside of the restaurant in the evening like this feels…weird.

It’s not that Carmy’s complaining about a nice thing, it’s just that he wasn’t prepared to have anything good today.

Shower, dinner, and weed, he thinks absentmindedly on the way home. He juggles the three around in his brain. Just the thought of it feels like relaxing. A little.

With company , his brain helpfully adds, and his stomach squirms.

Self control, he thinks. He needs more self-control. He can’t just keep thinking of them so indulgently. He’s not allowed to think of them that way, because it’s not fair to them. Even if no matter how many times he chastises himself, it never works. Even if they remain in his brain like sun-spots in his vision. Even if it’s not his fault that he just can’t help it.

The thing is, though, it always is. Even when it’s not his fault, it actually is. Always.

You dropped that fucking onion , his brain helpfully adds for no particular reason. Fucking loser.

Fuck off , he thinks back as he approaches his front door. Predictably, it does not stop.

Just as his fingers search for his keys in all of his pockets, he hears something that makes him pause, hands stopped on his waist. It’s music, distant and muffled. They’re probably listening to music in the kitchen. He stands, trying to place the song, but he doesn’t recognize it.

He does recognize the voice that’s singing over the music, though.

Oh, he realizes. That’s them.

The way their voice clumsily layers over the music shouldn’t make him pause like this. He shouldn’t be doing this, standing in the doorway and listening rather than opening the door. The keys are in his hand. This, this is a breach of privacy, he tells himself, feeling a little dizzy with distress, he just needs to just—

There’s an abrupt, loud clang, and he shoves the door open.

Concern is on the tip of his tongue, but it dies there. The source of the noise lays face-down on the floor—a pan sitting in what seems to be tomato sauce. The matter next to it is what makes the words evaporate from his lips, like they were never there at all.

They’re kneeled down next to the pan, paper towels in hand, but all they’re wearing is an apron.

His mind blanks. He thinks he stops breathing. He’s never seen so much of their skin at once. He needs to look away, he thinks, but his eyes keep traveling, traveling, and traveling. It just happens so quickly. He doesn’t mean to look, he doesn’t, but they’re right there and he can see right down their—

“No, I—I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were coming back early!” They exclaim, quickly crossing their arms over their chest, and that’s what makes him tear his eyes away.

“I—I thought I texted you,” he says quickly, hot face turned to the side, “on my lunch—...“ He stops there, the memory reconstructing itself.

He forgot.

“It’s fine, I just feel bad about dinner, and, uh—okay, I’m just gonna change real quick, and then I’ll clean this up,” they reply, words rushing out. In the corner of his vision, he sees their bare legs dart to their room.

It seems wrong to just stand here staring at the tomato sauce slowly expand outwards on the floor, so he cleans it up. A couple paper towels later, he’s gotten most of it, and they’ve returned with a change of clothes.

“Sorry,” Carmy starts right as they also go “I’m sorry”. He pauses, meeting their eyes. It’s a lot easier now that they’re wearing leggings and a t-shirt as opposed to, well, nothing. Not to say he doesn’t appreciate the leggings.

“Sorry you had to see me like that,” they sigh. “I don’t—I don’t usually walk around the place naked, I just—I didn’t think you’d be back—“

“I should’ve texted,” he interrupts. He struggles to not think about them walking around the living room naked. “I forgot. But it, it’s fine. You’re fine. Really. Sorry for not texting.”

“Okay. Cool.” They exhale, a tired noise. “And it’s okay. It happens.” They look at the floor and make a sound of surprise. “Did you clean this up?” The look they give him has far too much gratitude, and it feels like a searing hot iron.

“Yeah, uh.” His hands are moving like he’s trying to explain something, but no words crop up. “Felt weird not to.”

“Well.” They smile, grateful. “Thank you. That was gonna be dinner, but…” They trail off, looking at the floor with a sour expression. “I fucked up.”

“It’s just that sort of day today,” Carmy mutters.

“Shitty day for you, too?”

“Yeah. Lots of shit went wrong.” Especially me, he thinks, but he doesn’t say it. “You?”

“Gotcha.” They shrug. “As for me—yeah. Really not my best day. It was just, uh, some family shit. You know how it is.”

Carmy makes a sound of acknowledgement. “That sucks.” He doesn’t know much about their family other than that they’re fairly shitty. It’s the same the other way around, too.

“It’s whatever,” they say, even though it really isn’t, and he knows it. They look at the floor one more time before looking up at him. “Do you just wanna order pizza or something?”

“Yeah, I do,” Carmy replies, his words coming out much more despondent than expected.

They settle on some pepperoni pizza from a place down the street. It’s a tried and true method—they deliver, it’s cheap, it’s oily, it’s cheesy, it’s good. Just talking about it makes Carmy taste it on the tip of his tongue.

“You can go and shower if you want. I’ll get the door when pizza comes,” they offer. They’re standing at the sink, sleeves rolled up.

“Okay, thanks.” Carmy pauses then, gears turning. He’s vaguely worried his memory is going to shit. “Did—did I just say I was gonna shower?”

“Oh, no, you didn’t, you just always shower when you get home from work, right?” They say it like it’s the weather, like it’s familiar, and that’s when Carmy realizes because it is. After several months of living together, of course they’ve picked up on his habits. It doesn’t need to be a thing. There’s no reason for it to be a thing.

“I do,” Carmy replies faintly, and for some reason, that’s all he can say.

“Thought so.” They look at him for just a moment, but it makes him feel like his body’s gone transparent. “I notice these things, you know.”

“Yeah.” Carmy looks at them when they turn back to the dishes, back facing him. “You do.”

He tells himself he’s not gonna think any harder about any of it. He’s not gonna think about the singing, the apron, the way they just notice these things, but then he does.

He’s in the shower, and he thinks about everything.

The water pressure is pathetic, but the warmth still feels nice. Between that and the sound of the running shower, it’s usually enough to quiet his thoughts. This time, though, it doesn’t. To his credit, he does try to think about anything else.

He thinks about work, because he always does. He thinks about flour, about onions, about knives. He thinks about the shampoo lathered in his hair. He thinks about those lightbulbs they still need to get. He thinks about food. He thinks about them. He thinks about pizza. He thinks about the way they sing when no one’s around. He thinks about the way they know him.

He thinks about them, knees on the floor only in a—

He thinks of bashing his head into the tile wall until he explodes.

“Shut the fuck up,” he whispers to himself, rivulets of hot water trailing down his forehead and dripping off his lips. “Shut the fuck up.”

The soreness is still present in his body, but that never quite goes away. He does feel a bit better now that he doesn’t have sweaty, sticky skin, though. It gets even better when he puts on a clean white t-shirt and his favorite sweatpants. It’s a nice surprise from his past self who did his laundry for him.

This amount of niceness is okay. This is what he’s used to—a shower and comfortable clothes when he’s home from work. That’s enough.

He steps out into the kitchen with a damp towel on his head. He finds them sitting by their one shitty window that opens, pizza box in front of them and joint lit. It casts an orange glow to mix with the golden light from the window.

“Hey, pizza’s here!” They slap their hand on the greasy cardboard box. “Just got this joint started for us, too.”

“So you weren’t gonna smoke it all on your own?” He doesn’t mean to tease, but he does. He slips into the seat across them, arms resting on the table they placed by the window.

“I couldn’t smoke this whole thing even if I wanted to,” they protest. “Besides, joints are made for sharing. Here—now you get to take it. Isn’t that nice?” With their elbow propped up on the pizza box, they hold up the joint to him. The lit end of it sizzles a bright orange, emitting a thin trail of smoke up to the ceiling.

“That is very, very nice,” Carmy agrees, taking it carefully from their fingers. Their face spreads into that contagious grin of theirs, and he’s far from immune. Sometimes he smiles so much around them that his face hurts, rusty and unused.

Sure, he can blame that on the weed, but if he’s being honest with himself (a rare occasion), that’s a complete lie. Obviously the weed lessens the tension, the stress that winds him up tight. It’s not just the weed that gets him to relax, though.

It’s them. There’s something disarming about their presence, something that makes him loose-lipped around them. Even when he’s sober, he finds himself feeling comfortable. He’s not quite sure how that happened, or if that’s ever happened. He supposes that isn’t a bad thing. Just something he’s noticed.

He wonders if they’ve noticed.

“You like the new rolling papers?” They tuck their knees under their chin, propping their feet up on the chair.

“Hm.” Carmy lowers the joint from his mouth to give it a good look. He rotates it around in his fingers. “Strawberry?”

“Yeah, it’s strawberry,” they confirm, poorly hiding the excitement in their demeanor. Not that they were trying to. “Can you taste it?”

He pulls from the joint, the edges of the paper sizzling red with the weed. It’s an even burn this time. He rolls his tongue around in his mouth after he exhales a cloud of smoke.

“Still no,” he decides after a beat, and they sigh.

“I don’t know why I ever get my hopes up.”

“I do taste something else in this, though.” He takes another hit, stews on it. “Lavender?”

“Shoulda known you would’ve gotten it on your first tray. Yeah, it’s lavender. I found some lying around.”

“You made this one pretty nice,” he observes, eyes tracing the shape of the joint. “Between the lavender and the new papers, I mean.”

“Well, y’know.” The smile on their face is small and shy. “I don’t smoke joints often, so I wanted to make it nice, and I, uh…”

They’re paused for so long that Carmy interjects.

“And?”

“And I—want that joint,” they finally say, outstretching their hand. Carmy has a strong feeling that they weren’t originally going to say that, but he hands over the joint nonetheless.

“Strain?” He asks curiously. He can feel the body high creeping up his shoulders, fluid and light.

“The strain that gets you high,” they reply with a grin.

“Oh, thank god,” Carmy sighs in relief, and the way that makes them laugh… It makes his chest tight.

“To actually answer your question, though—I dunno.” He likes watching the smoke drift from the tip of the joint as they talk, thin gray wisps in the air. “I think it’s a hybrid? Not sure if it’s more one way or not, though…”

“As long as it’s not the weed that puts you to bed.”

“Um…well, if you smoke enough of it, it can.”

They sit together like this for a while, just sitting and taking turns with the joint. It’s an easy, fluid exchange, flowing between them like smoke. No matter how much they both try to blow it out the window, it always comes back in. The smell of weed is strong in the air, earthy and pungent.

Although he would never describe himself as a talkative person, sitting stoned across from them makes the words come out. Sometimes, he thinks he likes himself better when he’s high—his mind isn’t running circles around itself, and the soreness of his body just floats away. He feels more like a human than a poor imitation of one like he usually does.

This weed smells kinda good, he thinks, and when they laugh, nose scrunched up, he realizes he said that out loud.

“That’s literally what I’ve been saying,” they agree, a bright grin lingering on their face. “That’s how you know you’re a fuckin’ stoner!”

“Feels weird to call myself a stoner,” he muses. He plucks the joint from their outstretched hand. It definitely looks shorter from when they started a moment ago. “But I guess…”

“If you like the smell of weed, you’re too far gone,” they say with a grave expression. “It’s so fucking over for you.”

“Fuck,” he whispers, equally as serious, and then they’re both bursting out into laughter. He likes the sound of their laugh—it’s unabashed, fills up the space.

“Dude, I’m high,” they whisper after they both calm down, like it’s some sort of secret, and Carmy can’t stop himself from laughing all over again. “Oh my god. Are you high?”

“I—I think I might fucking be,” he gets out between laughs, and that sparks them straight into another cackle of laughter. He’s not supposed to be able to make others laugh, he doesn’t even make himself laugh—but then he’ll say something, and they’re lit up with laughter.

“We need to eat this pizza now, ” they yell, projecting over their combined noise. They flip the pizza box open, and it smacks Carmy right in the face.

“Oh,” he reacts mildly.

“Shit, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s fine, it’s not like you punched me in the face,” he reasons, but their guilty expression persists. “It didn’t hurt, it’s just cardboard.”

“I’m sorry, I’m high,” they sigh apologetically.

“I know,” he replies with a little smile. His eyes drift down to the pepperoni pizza sitting before them, glorious in its perverse amount of oil. “So, we’re gonna eat this, right?”

“Oh my god, yes we are,” they gasp, and the moment is forgotten.

When he tears off a pizza slice, the cheese stretches in thin, gooey strings. They grab the slice adjacent to it to snap the strings in half, but they’re both leaned back in their chairs, pizzas in hand, and the cheese is still connected.

“This doesn’t seem right,” Carmy mutters, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “We should’ve just cut it.”

“How could we have predicted this?” They pull their pizza further back, and the string still doesn’t break. “Wow. I’m honestly impressed. I don’t think it’s ever been this insane before.”

“I think we’d remember.” He’s not sure why he’s still talking and not just running his finger across the string to break it.

“I think we would, too.” They snort, shaking their head. “This—this is some spaghetti type shit.”

“What? Spaghetti?” He’s genuinely perplexed.

“I—I mean like—that fucking disney movie. With the dogs.” They pause for a moment, mouth silently moving. “Fucking—lady and the, the truck—”

“Uh.” He has to hold back a laugh. “...The lady and the tramp?”

“ Holyshittheladyandthetramp ,” they blurt out in a rush, and the cheese string finally snaps in half. “…Well, I guess it’s not exactly like the lady and the tramp, then.” They take a large bite of their pizza, and it reminds Carmy exactly how hungry he is.

“You mean lady and the truck,” he corrects, and he can’t stop himself from smiling. Especially not with how good this hot pizza is, delightfully salty and greasy in his mouth.

“Shut up, I was trying,” they grunt through a mouthful of food.

“How exactly is this like the lady and the tramp, again? Or, uh, not like it?”

“Well, it was just like it, but then the string broke.” Somehow, they’re already halfway through their slice. “Could’ve been a beautiful spaghetti moment.”

“Spaghetti moment,” he echoes under his breath, holding back a laugh. “Remind me how that scene goes?”

They go quiet for a moment. It’s like he can see the gears turning in his head. If he’s being honest, he already remembers how that scene goes, but…he wants to hear them say it. He needs to hear them say it.

“Uh, well, they’re…eating spaghetti. The titular lady and tramp.” Their eyes are fidgety, flickering back and forth between their pizza and the window. “And they’re sharing the plate, the two of them. They’re eating together, and, um…”

“...And?”

They meet his eyes, mouth hanging open, and then they close it.

“Um, I don’t remember, actually,” they say, shaking their head and blinking. He sees it for the blatant lie that it is, and yet. “Do, do you remember?”

As he stares back at them, unable to look away, he wonders. He wonders about what this really means. About if this really means anything at all, about if he’s going to find out if it does.

“I don’t remember,” he answers quietly, cowardly, and neither of them say anything else.

Out of the two of them, they’ve always been better with recovering from awkward moments, so they do. They start talking about something else, and the world keeps turning. But in the back of his head, Carmy remains in that moment, unwilling to let it go.

Why did you say that you didn’t remember? He wants to say. Why didn’t I say that I remembered how it went? Because I remember. They kiss—they fucking kiss. Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that what I wanted to hear?

But because he’s Carmy, he doesn’t say anything. He just eats.

He’s so hungry that the pizza disappears in minutes. It’s delicious, but he’s so high he’s not completely sure he can taste it. Somehow, it remains the best thing he’s ever eaten.

The rest of the night is a blur. He remembers getting onto the couch at some point. They both decide on a random movie he doesn’t catch the name of. They finish off the joint on the couch together, sinking into its cushions. It burns hot in his throat as it reaches the end.

And as it turns out, the weed he smoked is the one that puts him to bed.

“...Ca…Car…” Someone’s calling him. “...Carmy, c’mon. You’re gonna complain about your neck tomorrow if you keep sleeping here.”

“Mhm,” he replies helpfully. He turns his head into the cushion. His body feels like an abstract blob, perfectly molded into the couch cushions.

“Okay, you made a good point. But. ” They laugh quietly, under their breath. “Movie’s been over for like 20 minutes now.”

“Mhm,” he repeats, nearly inaudible. He doesn’t wanna get up. Whenever he falls asleep, it always feels like he’s never gotten an hour of sleep in his life. There’s nothing he needs to think about, worry about. He’s warm and comfortable, and he doesn’t feel like letting that go just yet.

Everything goes silent again for a moment, save for the cars on the road. He begins to drift away again, slipping back into his dreamless sleep.

But then there’s a hand on his shoulder, and it’s like a smoking brand on his skin. His eyes fly open and he jolts awake, jerking upright.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” they apologize, fretful. Between the dark of night and haze of sleep, they look pretty different. The blue light from the television is streaked across the blurry planes of their face.

“It’s fine,” he replies, drowsy. Speaking feels…heavy. Begrudgingly, he adjusts to sit up. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Weed,” they say with a shrug.

“How, how long was I—?” He cuts himself off with a yawn, wide with condensation in the corners of his eyes.

“Only like, 30 minutes.” They yawn back. Typical infectious yawning. “End of the movie sucked anyway.”

“Oh.” Pause. “What was the ending?”

“Love interest died,” they state plainly. “He told her about how he felt, got rejected, and then she died in a car accident. Pretty tragic.”

“Huh.” Carmy makes a face. “That does suck.”

“Yeah, a bit.” They’re idly fiddling with the remote, scrolling through Netflix without reading anything. “I feel like the movie was trying to say something profound about the unpredictability of life or something, but the writing was shit.”

“I guess it’d be too perfect if they got together,” he muses.

“I guess,” they echo. They turn off the tv, and the room goes dark. The only light is from the yellow street lamp right outside their window, wonderful in its inconvenient placement. It illuminates the shape of the back and leaves their face in shadow. “I think I remember how that scene went,” they say suddenly.

“Oh.” Carmy’s heart feels stuck in his throat. “And how does it go?”

“Well, they’re—both eating spaghetti. Like I said.” They’re not facing him, leaving their face shrouded in shadow. He’s not sure if he’s imagining the shake in their voice or not. It’s beyond him why there would be any shakiness at all. “They somehow get the same noodle, so they, uh, kiss.”

“They kiss,” he repeats for some unknown reason.

“Yeah.” They let out a quick laugh, but it doesn’t sound like they actually find this funny. He wishes he could see the look on their face.

“I don’t think pasta works like that,” he hears himself murmur faintly. For some reason, he can’t help but think that was the wrong thing to say. But he’s already said it. Maybe it’s the same reason as to why his heart is beating so urgently.

“No, I, I don’t think so either,” they mumble. He refuses to place the way they’re feeling.

I can’t fucking do this.

The thought resounds like a gong, hit with a mallet right next to his ear.

“It’s late, I gotta head to bed.” It feels like someone else is speaking for him, moving his body for him. He can’t stop them. When he stands up, he avoids their face.

What the fuck are you doing?

Another thought resounds. He doesn’t respond.

“Right, I—didn’t even notice the time.” He pretends he doesn’t hear the strain in their voice. No, he didn’t word that right—there is no strain in their voice. “G’night.”

"Night,” he murmurs back.

This is enough, he tells himself as he falls into bed. His sheets are tangled. This is enough , he repeats, and it’s not because he’s scared, afraid, anxious, or any other stupid synonym. It’s because he believes it, needs to believe it.

He tells himself, this is enough , even though he wonders, what is supposed to be enough? He doesn’t listen. He stamps down the protests, the thoughts that are out of line. The high usually helps with that, but it’s worn off, now just leaving him in a weary, sleepy state of things.

This is enough, he thinks, and he falls asleep looking at their shrouded face behind his eyelids.

#carmy berzatto #the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #lip gallagher #the bear fanfiction #hahaha i've been stewing on this fic since sept 2023 and now its here... i have like 2 more chapters written right now #they're around the same length #AH!!!! CARMEN BERZATTO!!!!#my writing #my fics #carmy #reader #alexithymia fic

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redrose10 · 4 months

Text

Chapter 15!

This one has a lot of ups and downs. I really hope you guys like this chapter. We are getting closer to the end. As always I appreciate all the comments and messages.

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 4, 806

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag list: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

Entering the passcode into Jimins door lock was harder than you expected in your current state. You weren’t sure what was worse, the pounding headache from the hangover, the pain in your chest from having Yoongi break your heart again, or the nausea in your stomach from the guilt of sleeping with Woo-Sung.

It seemed like a great idea last night. You were upset and hurt and you knew Yoongi really didn’t like him so it seemed like the perfect way to get back at him. But when you woke up in his bed with your dress still half off of your body you felt an immediate sense of regret. You felt like you stooped down to Yoongi’s level. You knew you were better than that.

Dropping your bag by the front door all you wanted to do was take a hot shower and sleep off all of the feelings you were having. To make it worse you were supposed to go over to Yoongi’s later with Woo-Sung, neither men you wanted to see right now.

You felt like the universe was out to get you when you turned the corner finding Jimin and Yoongi sitting at the table talking and sipping on some coffee. Yoongi noticed you first eyeing you up and down with a smirk clearly liking your outfit.

Jimin noticed you next but he didn’t have the same reaction. Instead he snorted at your appearance.

“Rough night?”, he asked.

“Don’t want to talk about it.”, you mumbled beginning to walk away.

“And here I thought I had a terrible time being stuck at the office with your husband for eighteen hours straight, but seems you got me beat.”, he continued.

You stopped suddenly turning to face the two men.

“Wait you both were at the office all day yesterday?”

“Yeah we got there yesterday morning and found out we were about to lose the JYP deal so we spent all day and night in negotiations trying to save it. This tyrant over here wouldn’t even let me leave to go eat. Y/N, I had to starve.”, Jimin dramatically pointed over at Yoongi.

“I really hope you get an Oscar for that performance. I told you that you couldn’t go get lunch because Han from JYP was supposed to contact us back at any minute for a conference call. Did you forget that afterwards I ordered you a very nice steak dinner AND then got you late night pizza when you were still hungry?”, Yoongi rolled his eyes.

He then turned his attention over to you, “I’m sorry I didn’t call Y/N. I was just so stressed about this whole thing. That would’ve been a multimillion dollar loss so I had to stay really focused until we were able to save it.”

You nodded which only made your headache and nausea even worse. Suddenly you weren’t in the sleeping mood.

“Jimin can I talk to you about something please. Like right now. In private.”

The two men gave you a questioning look before Jimin pushed himself away from the table and followed you to your current room.

“What’s going on? You seem really off.”, he asked while you shut the door.

“Jimin I need you to be 100% completely honest with me. Did Yoongi leave the office at any point yesterday?”

You checked your phone to see what time Mrs. Chan had called as she said she’d seen Yoongi ten minutes beforehand.

“Were you with him at around three in the afternoon?”

He looked at you with a confused look.

“Yoongi got there at his normal time in the morning and that’s when he got the message that the JYP deal was falling apart. We spent the entire day in his office. Luckily he has that in suite bathroom or he probably would’ve just handed me an empty bottle. We were on a call with someone from JYP around 3. We finally left at about 2am and he wanted to come here and see you and then you weren’t here so we just stayed awake to wait for you. I was with him the entire time and he never left the room.”

You sat on the edge of the bed and pulled your knees up to your chest. “Oh no oh no oh no. I can’t believe this. Jimin what did I do? Why did I believe that crazy old woman?”

“Y/N what’s going on? What did you do?”

You shook your head, “I fucked up. I just ruined everything.”

“Hey hey just calm down. What happened?”

“Our neighbor called me yesterday to complain about Yoongi and Suri making out in the hallway of the apartment building. I asked her if she was sure it was Yoongi and she said yes. She could even smell his cologne. So I got really upset and did something so stupid. I went over to Woo-Sungs and got pretty drunk and ended up sleeping with him. I’m so awful. I’m not that kind of person. And Yoongi has been trying so hard to fix everything and change and I just went and blew it in one night.”

You expected your best friend to hug you, maybe wipe your tears, and offer some comforting words. You didn’t expect him to double over in laugher right in front of you though.

“What the hell Jimin? It’s not funny.”

“Yes it is Y/N. It really is. You really don’t remember anything do you?”

You shook your head. He took a seat next to you and continued, “Woo-Sung called Yoongi last night while we were at the office. He said you showed up to his place already pretty tipsy complaining about how your neighbor told you about Yoongi and Suri making out in the hallway. Before he could stop you, you grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the counter and took a few big swigs. You got pretty drunk off of it and then moments later you tried removing your dress, but only got the straps off when you tripped because your shoes were too big and then you started crying. Woo-Sung said he was waiting for his mom to stop by to drop off some stuff so he couldn’t leave and was just gonna let you sleep it off in his bed and then bring you home in the morning, but he wanted Yoongi to know about it. He even sent Yoongi a text later saying he owed him for having to sleep on the couch in his own home.”

“What?! So I didn’t actually sleep with him? And you guys knew about all of this? Then how did Mrs. Chan smell his cologne in the hallway?”

He continued to laugh at your expense, “Do you really think Yoongi would be so calmly sitting at the table if he came home at 2am to find you missing and he didn’t know where you were? Remember that one time you took too much cold medicine and were completely passed out? Well when you didn’t answer Yoongi’s call in the middle of the night he sent Jungkook to check on you.”

“What?! I knew I saw someone in my room that night, but I kept telling myself it was just the fever making me see things. I am gonna kill them both.”

Jimin laughed even harder, “He was just really worried because he knew how sick you were and then you weren’t answering him which was unlike you. In his defense Jungkook was only supposed to knock on the door to see if you answered. Jungkook’s the one that went rouge and broke in like he was James Bond or something.”

“Okay whatever. I’ll take that up with Jungkook another day.”, you huffed.

“So Yoongi knows everything and is okay with it?”, you asked.

“I mean sure he was kind of pissed off you ran to Woo-Sung right away, but I think he gets it. Yoongi is well aware of his past with you. And as far as Mrs. Chan is concerned, Suri wears the feminine version of Yoongi’s cologne. Some bullshit about it reminding her of him. I told Taehyung to discontinue it, but it’s a best seller and I think he’s a little scared of Suri to be honest. That old bat Mrs. Chan just probably didn’t notice the difference and assumed it was Yoongi. Suri also has a type so there’s a high probability that this guy she was with did look like Yoongi especially from behind.”

You stared at the ground somehow feeling better, but worse at the same time.

You definitely owe Woo-Sung an apology for your behavior. You wondered if your famous cookies would be enough.

A knock at the door interrupted Jimins giggle fit and when he opened it Yoongi appeared holding a hot cup of coffee and a bagel sandwich. Jimin got the hint and left to finally get some sleep while Yoongi took his place sitting down next to you on the bed offering the coffee.

“Here drink this. I’m sure you feel even worse than you look right now.”

Taking the cup you took a sip of the hot liquid. The caffeine instantly taking the edge off of your headache.

“I’m sorry Yoongi. I shouldn’t have acted out like that especially without talking to you first. I was just so upset and hurt and not thinking straight.”

He smiled, “No need to be sorry. I understand why you did it. Honestly, I’m mostly upset that he got to see you in this dress before I did.”

Playfully you shoved his shoulder.

“I feel a little hurt honestly. I went over there looking like this and he just put me to sleep without even touching me.”

“Well I mean I’m like one of the biggest assholes on the planet and even I wouldn’t take advantage of a drunk woman no matter what she was wearing.”

You nodded, “True, true. I guess that is a good thing. There should be more people like that.”

“Yeah there really should AND it might also have a little something to do with the fact that when he agreed to go along with this whole plan, I might have, kind of, told him that if he ever touched you I’d take his guitar and shove it down his throat.”

“Yoongi that wasn’t very nice.”, you scolded somewhat playfully somewhat seriously.

Feeling a sudden rush of dizziness you rested your head on his shoulder taking in the smell of his cologne which had pretty much all worn off at that point besides a faint touch of cinnamon.

“We really need to get you a new cologne by the way. You’re like a billionaire, but you only have one bottle. It doesn’t make sense.”

“You should pick one out for me. Something that you like.”

“Really? Can I?”

“Yeah, but maybe don’t get this one customized.”

He chuckled while you cringed at the memory.

“If you weren’t with Suri then who was she making out with in the hallway?”, you asked taking a bite of the bagel he was offering you.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Don’t know and don’t care. Hopefully she found some other poor soul to suck the life out of. But it does worry me that she might have something up her sleeve and this was all part of a bigger plan of hers. So we should definitely be on the watch for that.”

You finished off the bagel with some help from Yoongi before deciding that it was time for a shower and to get some sleep before Woo-Sung would pick you up to head over and put the rest of the plan in motion.

As you stood up you glanced over at the dresser where you had placed your ring the day before noticing an empty spot.

“Oh no! Where did it go?”, you said in between tears that instantly started falling. You dropped down on the ground feeling around hoping to find it.

“Y/N what’s wrong?”

“I lost it Yoongi.”

“Lost what? Your mind?”, he chuckled.

“Not funny. I lost my ring. I put it right here on the dresser before I left last night. I have no idea how it could be lost.”

Still crawling around on the floor you didn’t even notice that Yoongi had walked over and was now crouching down next to you. When he finally cleared his throat you turned around so fast almost knocking him over. He was holding up the ring you were currently crying over.

“I saw it when I came to look for you in here after getting back from the office. I didn’t want it to get lost so I put it in my pocket.”

“Oh thank goodness.”, you said trying to grab the ring, but he took it just out of your reach.

“Yoongi can I please have my ring back?”

“I think you should go ringless for now. It’ll be more believable to Suri if you’re not wearing it. Every little detail counts.”

You couldn’t stop the pout that formed on your lips and Yoongi couldn’t stop himself from finding it to be the cutest thing ever.

“Plus I thought maybe when this whole thing is over I’d propose to you again. You know like actually propose, like you deserve.”, he said helping you off the floor.

“Alright, but it better include a song you wrote for me or I might just say no this time.”, you chuckled which Yoongi met with a gummy smile and blushed cheeks.

“I wish you could stay here with me.”, you said watching him put on his jacket.

“I know. Me too, but I don’t want the she demon to get suspicious.”

You laughed at the new nickname for Suri before wrapping your arms around him.

“Just a little more time and then we can put this all behind us.”, he gave you a kiss and you watched him walk out the door.

When you woke up a few hours later your headache had disappeared and you were feeling much better. After getting ready you walked out to find the living room already packed. Yoongi and Jin were sat at the table arguing over what restaurant they should order chicken from. Jimin was at the stove making a large pot of coffee knowing it’ll be needed. You heard someone clear their throat and then you saw Woo-Sung sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. Your cheeks instantly heated up with embarrassment.

Slowly you walked over to stand next to him.

“Listen Woo-Sung I am so sorry about last night. I was just upset and not thinking straight. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable and I’m sorry that you had to sleep on the couch.”

He chuckled before shaking his head, “It’s okay Y/N. I’m just glad you came to me instead of going some place where you could’ve been taken advantage of. Cause I mean you did look really really good last night. If your husband wasn’t so scary I’d definitely say we should try that again, but sober.”

Before you could reply someone grabbed your hand and started pulling you away. Without looking you already knew it was Yoongi.

He glared at Woo-Sung before mouthing at him to watch it.

“How are you feeling?”, he asked once you were comfortably sitting at the table next to him.

“Better I guess. How about you?”

“Exhausted. I think I only got like two hours of sleep.”

“Was Suri there when you got back?”

He chuckled, “Yeah unfortunately. I found out who her hallway friend was.”

“Seriously? How? Who was it?”, you gasped with wide eyes.

“Suri left her phone out on the table while she was showering and luckily I guessed her passcode in only two tries. I saw these text messages between her and some guy that goes by Woozi. There was a photo of him as the contact and he looks a lot like me. I could see how Mrs. Chan would get confused. They went back and forth about planning a meet up and making out in the hall as the neighbors were walking around. It seems she knew that one of the neighbors would end up calling you to tell you what they saw. I have a feeling that she’s still not 100% satisfied with the situation and wants to make sure that there’s absolutely no chance that you and I reconcile.”

“She’s crazy Yoongi. There’s no nice way to put it. What did you ever see in her?”

“She was an easy hookup. I thought she felt the same way that I did. I swear I never thought she’d get like this.”

Before you could speak Jin cleared his throat indicating it was time to get things started.

Jimin and Jin helped attach the hidden recording device to Woo-Sungs chest using some tape. His shirt hid it nicely and they ran some quick tests to make sure everything was in order. Yoongi texted Suri to let her know that he was stuck at the office again, but that you would be stopping by to grab more of your things. Yoongi was going to stay there with Jimin and Jin so that Suri would feel more comfortable talking to Woo-Sung.

Yoongi met you at the dork to help you with your coat and Jin met you not long after.

“So everyone has their story straight? Remember Woo-Sung, just try and get her to do most of the talking. Try and guide her into revealing that Namjoon is the father and that she’s been blackmailing Yoongi with it.”, Jin spoke as Woo-Sung nodded in understanding.

You gave Yoongi a quick kiss goodbye before heading out the door.

Standing outside the penthouse door you were confused whether you should knock or just go in or maybe have Yoongi call her. Woo-Sung gave your hand a light squeeze, “We got this.”Opting for option number two you entered in the passcode which thankfully still worked. Just as you were taking off your shoes you could hear a loud sigh come from the entrance way.

“Don’t you know how to knock? You don’t live here any more remember? Or is that too much for your little brain to handle.”

“Fuck off Suri. Yoongi said he told you I was coming over. I just have to grab a few things and then we’ll leave.”

“Well hello to you too you little bitc-. Kim Woo-Sung? What are you doing here?”

Turning around you saw that Woo-Sung had made an appearance which quickly got the attention of Suri.

He smiled and outstretched his hand, “Nice to meet you. I’m just here with Y/N.”

“With Y/N? What is someone like you doing with a poor waste of space like her?”

He awkwardly cleared his throat, “She’s actually quite lovely.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment as you walked back towards your old room. You really didn’t need anything so you grabbed a small bag and started filling it with random articles of clothing to make it seem like you took something.

“Come sit with me. Would you like any bring to drink?”, Suri asked flirtatiously.

He shook his head taking the seat next to her on the couch.

Back at Jimins apartment him, Jin, and Yoongi were all listening to the conversation in real time.

“This is so cool. I feel like a secret agent.”, Jimin quipped.

The two older men quickly gave him a look to silence him.

“I really hope this works.”, Yoongi replied. “It’ll be fine. We just have to get what we need.”, Jin said trying to calm his friend.

“So how did the two of you meet?”, Suri asked twirling a strand of hair around her pointer finger.

“Ummm we met a while ago at a party. You know, friend of a friend type stuff. ”

“Oh and are you two just now getting to know each other?”

“Yeah Y/N has been pretty upset lately. She has been going through a lot of stuff so we’ve really connected.”

“Mmhm I see.”

“Yeah so what about you? I heard from Y/N you’re pregnant with Yoongi’s baby?”

She giggled,”Yes I sure am. See the little bump? We are so excited. Yoongi’s been picking out names already and we’re going to start on the nursery once Y/N gets the rest of her crap out of there.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes so hard he gave himself a headache while Jimin and Jin couldn’t contain their laughter next to him.

“Congratulations. I’m sure Yoongi is super excited. He’ll have a little farmhand to give him some help.”

“I’m sorry what?”, she asked coughing on her sip of water.

“Yeah Yoongi told me a while ago that if he ever had children he wouldn’t want them to grow up in an apartment in the city with a dad who was never around because all he did was work. So he said he’d leave the company and move out to the countryside and buy a sheep farm for his family to live on.”

“Oh my God, Yoongi and these fucking sheep.”, you whispered to yourself after eavesdropping on the conversation the best you could from your room.

“No I don’t think Yoongi would do that. I mean why would he give all this up?”, she asked gesturing around the very large penthouse.

He shrugged, “Dont know. I just heard Jin complaining that he was going to have to drive his Mercedes in the mud to go visit Yoongi since he was was looking at farmland for sale the other day.”

“Well we are not going to live like that so I’ll have to say something to him.”

“Yeah probably should bring that up to him. Especially before he wastes the time and money to order the DNA test.”, he chuckled.

“What DNA test?”

“Oh well I just assumed that someone with as much power and money as Yoongi would require a DNA test for any kid being claimed as his. You know, just to protect his assets and stuff.”

“No Yoongi wouldn’t do that. He knows this baby is his. There’s no way he’d put me or the baby through that. And even if he did for some reason I’d never agree to it.”, she nervously chuckled.

“I mean I’m pretty sure he could get it court ordered if he really wanted to.”

“Wow, she went through all this scheming and conniving and never even thought about what would happen if Yoongi asked for a DNA test. What an idiot.”, Jimin chuckled.

“I mean we never thought about that either. We could’ve just requested that she get a DNA test and when it showed Yoongi wasn’t the father we could’ve just used that. We didn’t even have to go through this whole extravagant thing.”, Jin responded. The three men sat staring at each other in realization.

Yoongi cleared his throat, “This is a good thing though. Now we will have this recording as well to make sure she can’t twist it around.”

Suri was beginning to panic. She hadn’t even thought about the possibility of Yoongi requesting his own DNA test because she honestly believed Yoongi would just bow down and give in to her.

“Why do you care so much about a DNA test? It doesn’t matter to you anyway.”, she spat.

Woo-Sung put his hands up in defense, “I really don’t care. I was just asking since Yoongi is an acquaintance of mine and I care about his well-being. You’re the one that’s getting so defensive about it.”

“Sorry, it’s just the hormones or something.”, she said trying to calm herself down.

You had quietly moved to the hallway just out of sight of the two of them in the living room. This was taking a lot longer than you had thought it would and you weren’t sure that Suri was going to break. You weren’t sure where he was going with this, but you were done leaving it up to the men and decided to take matters into your own hands. You made your presence known by greeting the two of them.

Yoongi, Jin, and Jimin looked at each other in panic as they heard your voice through the speaker. They hadn’t gotten what they needed so you weren’t supposed to be there yet.

As you sat down on the chair opposite Suri and Woo-Sung she scoffed at your audacity to make yourself comfortable.

“What are you doing? You don’t live here any more remember. Don’t be rude.”, she glared at you.

“Yes Suri, I am aware of that. I left on my own. I just wanted to talk things out with you. Like adults.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Things were great between Yoongi and I and then you showed up. But now we finally get to be a happy family. Me, him, and our baby.”

You fought back an eye roll, “I am happy for you and I hope you guys have a long happy life together. If you ever need anything just let me know. I am always here.”

Suri looked at you with suspicion, “Why would I ever need anything from you?”

“I don’t know. I mean one day when Yoongi decides he’s had enough and leaves and you’re left all alone you might need some help.”, you shrugged.

“That will never happen. Especially now that I’m pregnant.”

“Mmhm. I mean he already hardly comes home now that you’re living here. Who knows how many women he’s hooking up with just to get away from you.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re mad he left you.”

“Am I? Do you really think I care? I still get the benefits of being his wife without the emotional baggage that comes with it. You on the other hand? You’re just the other woman that he accidentally got pregnant. If that baby really is his.”

Suri scoffed, “Of course this baby is his. Who else’s would it be?”

“I don’t know. Could be the guy you were making out with in the hallway the other day. Woozi I think his name is? Could be any other guy in this country. I mean I was having a few drinks with Namjoon the other day and he said some interesting stuff that makes me think the baby could even be his.”

You could see Suri’s body tense up at the mention of Namjoon.

You continued, “He mentioned something about the two of you hooking up and now you’re suddenly pregnant. Seems a little suspicious to me.”

“So what? I hooked up with him. I’m an adult and can sleep with whoever I want.”, she crossed her arms.

“No no you’re right. You can sleep with anyone you want. Just like Namjoon can take you to court over the custody of this baby if he wants to and it sounds like he does.”

“He doesn’t have the guts to do that. He’s way too passive.“

“I don’t know. He seemed pretty set on it the other day. Said he was already contacting lawyers and everything.”

Suri was visibly upset. You were starting to feel kind of bad because you didn’t want the innocent baby getting stressed out. You just needed that final push to send her overboard.

“Namjoon showed me all the proof he has while we were drinking. It all looked pretty believable to me, but then again I’m not a lawyer.”

“What proof?! I destroyed the DNA test that verified him as the father. I deleted every conversation we had about it. Namjoon has nothing confirming he is the father other than word of mouth and that means nothing! Yoongi is going to be seen as the father of this baby no matter what and that’s that.”

“You’re right Suri. Guess you have nothing to worry about then. Come on Woo-Sung, let’s go. I want to get out of here before Yoongi gets home.”

Suri jumped up to follow the two of you,

“I know what you’re up to Y/N. You think you just got dirt on me, but no one will believe you. It’s your word against mine. And if you try anything I will make your life miserable. I’ve blackmailed Yoongi for years and I won’t even think twice about doing the same to you.”

“Okay Suri. Have a good night.”, you smirked as you walked to the door with Woo-Sung following closely behind.

“Well that didn’t go exactly to plan.”, he chuckled awkwardly once safely in the elevator.

You heard your phone go off from your pocket. Taking it out the screen illuminated with a message from Yoongi.

“Good job baby. We got exactly what we needed. Now hurry up and get back here. I have a special reward waiting for you.”

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #cinnamon&vanilla #yoongi fic #min yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi au #bts fic #yoongi fluff #jimin #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #jungkook

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dreamwritersworld · 1 year

Text

The chore. Part 4. (Sully family x reader)

This is part 4 and the final part but read till the VERY END when I announce a surprise! 😊💓

I was dreading waking up in the morning. Last night Tyseria had decided it’d be best we made a small fort to sleep in together before we have to constantly be out for training more than usual. I woke up with Aonung’s arms wrapped around me “Timeeeeee to wake up Y/n! Moms keeping us busy and close to her today so wake up!!” I rubbed my eyes, trying to get up suddenly focusing on the other voice beside me trying to pry Aonung to get off. “you should really let go brother you might cut off her circulation! We have to train the Sully’s” I look back confused. them? Train the sull- “Tyseria leave us be! I don’t want to train those idiots. Tuk please leave your sister and tell mom she’ll come back in a couple of hours.” Tuk and Tyseria both look up offended and give a ‘Are you serious?!’ look to both their siblings.

“Fineee, I guess our breathing training can wait till another dayyy…” I yank Aonung’s hand off “Ok you got me up let’s go you evil child.” Laughs erupts from the two sisters that bothered their siblings to wake up. Now it’s Aonung’s turn for an offended look. “I- your leaving?!” I turn back “yes! Tuk needs to train and she’s doing it AS SHE PROMISED!” I turn to Tuk expectedly “I guess so…”

That’s how it continued for the next few days wake up and stay close by father or mother. Not to say that we didn’t mind but we knew that we were all dying to return home and praying our schedules can go back to normal. As for the sully family…

There had been no mention of Y/n or Tuk from Tyseria and Aonung. They kept majority of their family life private besides when they stated the obvious. It wasn’t until Loak, Kiri and Neteyam were walking towards the Mauri that their laughing stopped once they heard their parents in the home going back in forth while Jake brushes off Neytiri suspicions on seeing the girls running around the village as her mind playing a cruel joke on her. “Neytiri it’s not real. They are gone.” Neytiri pushes Jake aside “You are stupid. I saw MY children. You must’ve not noticed them AGAIN.” When the two girls left the family after y/n gave them a reality check, Neytiri never let Jake forget it and she only ever drowned in her regrets at failing to notice how they pushed their own daughter away. “That is not fair. You know that’s not fair. We looked everywhere for them. I sent out troops for them.” Neytiri turns back to her husband…

*Flashback*

Jake’s eyes follow Neytiri as she frantically rushes home to find her daughters, after hearing Tuk ran for Y/n when she left after the argument. Jake sluggishly walking behind frustrated at the idea of facing his daughter again knowing that it wouldn’t be long until he had enough and would blow up on her once again for putting stress on HIS family. (as if y/n was the intruder bothering his family, not his daughter)His sluggish walking stopped and changed to a sprinting pace as he wears his wife’s screams. He ran into an empty room with nothing but beautiful flower bracelets, each laying on his other three kids hammocks. Some type of parting away gift with a familiar bead hanging on each end of the bracelets. Y/n’s signature bead. The one Tuk would always show off and say “her beading is so pretty isn’t it dad-“ suddenly he couldn’t hear the little girls sentence in his memory because he had immediately cut her off and said that y/n shouldn’t be beading, instead training to be better and not halfass on the war grounds. “WHERE ARE THEY. WHERE ARE MY KIDS. JAKE WHAT IS THIS?!” Neytiri screams with her heart aching of regret. “Find them. FIX THIS. Bring my children back home.” Looking at her husband with the upmost disgust. Neytiri then turns her back to her husband. For the first time.” *

…“Well then you didn’t look hard enough. My children are here. And I’m going to fight for answers with or without you.” Both parents rushed out the Mauri, Jake trying to stop Neytiri from doing anything out of line while their children frantically followed behind from a safe distance. ‘Could it be? Could their missing sisters really be here?’

Neytiri rushes around the village everywhere in search for the two leaders of the clan hoping to find her theory true. That her children are here and that they’d now return home. “Mom! Dad! Look at the seashell necklace I made for the baby! Y/n is going to teach me how to make a quilt for the baby next!” The two adults back up watching from a far in shock as they witness Tonowari pick up their child and spin her in the air as she giggled. They hear each others hearts shatter hearing Tuk call someone else, some they didn’t even know well enough mom and dad. To make matters worse they then heard a laugh coming from a far, a laugh they didn’t even recognize…

“Tuk! It was supposed to be a surprise for Mom!” Y/n walks hand in hand with Aonung as a Tyseria follows next to the couple with a flower crown in her hand that Y/n taught her to make. Tuk sticks her tongue out showing a silly face to her two sisters, walking towards them.

Neytiri couldn’t stand this anymore she rushed out of hiding. “Y/n? Tuk? My children.” She rushed to hug the two kids that were once her’s, something she didn’t understand. Everyone in the circle saw it, saw something switch in Y/n, there was something cold behind her eyes. As quickly as Neytiri came in is as quickly as Y/n picked up Tuk and stepped back putting the women at a stop. “We’ve found you! You’ve grown so much, and you seem so strong my children. It’s ok we will retu-“ it wasn’t until Neytiri’s sentence came at a halt with a hiss. “MY children will NOT return to you. They are no longer “your children” they were never yours.” Jake comes into view in disbelief looking at the older daughter that fled the forest, putting herself in between the two woman as she holds Tuk in her arms with her head held up high, hissing at Neytiri telling her to back off. There was still three kids that follow carefully behind hidden in the shadows still, share the same look as Tyseria and Aonung witness the situation.

“I am Y/n, daughter of Tonowari and Ronal. I found my own home. I am not leaving. I hear you. You just don’t understand how it is now.” Jake couldn’t stand by and listen any longer he was just growing more frustrated but he knew he must try to remain as calm as possible to the damaged girl, that’s all he ever viewed her as

Broken.

Reckless.

Idiotic.

Too foolish to ever hold her own.

His voice speaks from behind “We understand you. Y/n don’t do that. We paid our dues with the pain of not waking up to you and Tuk everyday. We took care of you when you were babies. You can come with us but you aren’t allowing yourself too. Listen to me. You don’t have to hide anymore not you, not Tuk. Don’t you want that for yourselves? For her?” I look at the man in front of me, I try making it clear nicely but any longer and he might just push me over the edge. “Jake, this idea of yours-“

Jake looks confused at the sound of his daughter not even referring to him as dad, even when she was most upset, even during their last argument it was never ‘Jake’. He quickly states “this idea of mine is what kept you close for a long time.” I shake my head urging him to listen before my patience was up. “Jake, it takes more than words, you can’t just talk me into coming back to your family. you think I didn’t want a life the way I do now, from the beginning? From the moment I was able to walk that’s all I ever wanted. I prayed to Eywa that you would come to your realizations before our time was up but that’s just not how it worked.” Neytiri stared at the girl with tears in her eyes begging Eywa to stop any more words coming out that could hurt Neytiri even more. “Please my child, I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner , I’m so sorry you had to do it on your own . Come home.” Y/n gave another blank stare “Can’t you hear me ? I’m not coming to your home.” That was it, everything Jake heard felt like nonsense to his ears, his silent frustration built up for his own daughter came back.

“You and Tuk were gone. You vanished. We missed out on important parts of your life. And your telling me you aren’t coming home? You ran away and took Tuk with you. You think because you were a little girl that you could just pull yourselves out and no one will care. That because your “sorry” Our lost time with you both will all magically come back? That’s not how it works.” Tonowari and Ronal decided that weren’t going to no longer hold back “That’s enough! You will not speak to My child that way-“ Hearing Jake say what he just said alerted the coldness that Y/n tried to put aside come back. He still hadn’t changed. “You have no right. You never raised me. You don’t get to take over now and show up again to pull us out of the family we surrounded ourselves with. Real. Family. So shut up Jake. This isn’t about our lost time. I could give zero shits anymore. I would’ve still been lost in a transit, in the same old routine because YOU. refused to pick up any pieces of what YOU broke. This is about what I did. And you know what Jake? I did a great fucking job. Tuk learned everything from me. You barley spent as much time with her compared to me even before I left and that’s sad. She’s at the top of everything for her age group here. She learned survival, and the ways of water at a young age, at a quicker rate than you ever will. And you know what WE did it all no thanks to you because you. weren’t. here.” The wave of anger sent reminders to him that she was going to send him back to the major argument they had. “I- I’m here now.” His voice breaks now as hold his wife in his arms. “You don’t even know who we are?!”

Neytiri then yells out a broken scream “We’re your parents!” And to this I brush their words away “Well now they (looking at Tonowari and Ronal) took the EMPTY spot you were supposed to be so yk what? Your right you were my mother, but the most you ever did for me was birth me. But they are a here now. So your worries that you suddenly have for me and my feelings starting from the night YOUR husband left me to die, they’re done. You don’t need to worry anymore. We are not yours to bare.”

Neytiri drops down and cries like Y/n and Tuk weren’t even on Pandora anymore, like they passed through Eywa. I looked up at Jake and decided to say my last words. “You made a mess and you weren’t even there to pick it up. So remember when I say this. I was always just the chore to you and you were too bored to pick it up. But I will do you and I one last favor. You will never speak or look at me again. You will find moonlight nights strangely empty because when you call my name, there will be no answer, not even a look. You are allowed to stay on this island and you better be grateful because without me, you are nothing. Nothing but a man who’s afraid to accept the truth, still always holding frustration. But don’t think I’m doing it for you. I’m saving your kids from being lost, something I wish I had guidance for.” With that, the family walked away from the couple and continued their home until…

The three siblings (Loak, neteyam and kiri) come into view as well crying tears and rushing to hug Y/n “h-how? We’re so sorry” For them, it meant everything that Y/n accepted their hug. In y/n’s mind she couldn’t hold a grudge, she loved her siblings regardless of their subconscious pushing. They were just kids as well, how could they have seen it? “I could never be seriously mad at you guys, we were just kids.” their quietness came to an end a few moments later with Tuk “ok guys…I can’t breathe your holding us too tight!” We all laughed.

Finally the small part of Y/n’s heart was healed. She didn’t hold anything back. She was at peace before yes, but now the cold side of her, the side that always lingered around said what needed to be said, she didn’t need to worry anymore. That’s when Tonowari and Ronal saw what they finally been waiting for, their daughter healed fully they viewed her as

Strong.

Graceful.

Kind.

Smart.

Y/n was so happy, she had Tuk still, she remained with her family and healed any pent up anger she had. “Ok sunshine! Where to next ? I say we go eat!” Tuk rushes out of y/n’s arms “THEN LETS GOOOOO COME ON GUYS LETS GO HOME!” Y/n grabs Aonung’s hand while he smiled at the girl “uh…I thinkkk you guys didn’t hear her? LETS GO! I’LL RACE YOU ALL!” That’s when everyone ran (only the teens and Tuk) Tonowari and Ronal smiled at the girl who faced everything she was dealt with and no longer sitting in silent frustration. She was finally able to say her older habit and mean it- Y/n tripped when running to the finish line and everyone came at a stop “ITS OK! I’M FINE! I MADE IT AND THAT MEANS I FINALLY WIN!” Laughter and happiness surrounds the room while Y/n run in hand and hand with Tuk ready to walk into their home.

I really hope you loved this series as much as I loved writing it. :) This is the final part however….I will be doing a mini series to add onto this! To show more of how growing up was for Y/n that way you can see more of her dark past and the troubles she went through. 💓 thank you for all the love and support on this series this literally means so much 🥲💕

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype

@zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll

@abbersreads @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro

#jake sully x reader #loak x reader #neteyam x reader #angst #sully family x reader #neytiri sully #aonung x reader #neteyam sully #avatar loak #avatar the way of water #loak sully #kiri sully

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wheredafandomat · 7 months

Text

In my solitude

Thor x reader x Loki - Asgard AU

18+ | same warnings and stuff throughout smut angst

Chapter 4 | prev | next

“Heimdall, I have a favour to ask”

“I know what you seek but I am afraid— ”

“Please refrain from disobeying your queen”

“Lady y/n, you are not yet—”

“I have sworn an oath have I not? I have sighed my name have I not?”

“Yes”

“Once Odin succumbs to the Odinsleep, Frigga will be demoted to Queen Dowager and I will be crowned queen, not just acting, in which case you’ll answer to me”

“Indeed”

“And I can assure you that I will be indebted to you. You see all, do you not?”

“I do”

“I am asking that when the time comes, you do not see me”

You felt nauseous. Bile threatened to rise as you swallowed thickly, willing yourself not to throw up. You tried to distract yourself by reading but it was too loud. There was something about hearing your husband fucking another woman that simply made you want to disappear. Despite what Loki had said, your marriage to Thor was loveless, that was evident now. It was made clear everytime Thor professed his love to Sif in the next room, driving into her as she no doubt lay spread in his bed, docile.

When you heard that they were done, you sighed and managed to focus on your book again before you heard the headboard banging against the wall. Fed up, you flung your book against the wall in a fit of rage before storming off aimlessly around the palace. You ignored the guards that greeted you as you wandered down the familiar corridors before ending up in front of Loki’s door. So much for aimlessly you huffed inwardly as you raised your hand to knock it before it opened.

“Can you just sense when I’m near or something?” You asked, stepping inside.

“Yes” he answered, looking up at you from where he sat at his dressing table.

Walking further inside, the door shut behind you as you made your way to Loki’s bed.

“Have you been crying?” He asked, noticing your crestfallen expression.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” You asked, not answering his question as you sat on his bed.

“I’ll stay here, make sure you’re safe” Loki nodded, gesturing to his chair.

“I’m in the palace” you smiled, pulling his duvet back “I’m safe, don’t stay over there on my accord” you insisted, settling into his bed before closing your eyes, thankful that you were no longer accompanied by Thor and Sif.

Loki waited for your breaths to even out before eventually joining you in the bed. He faced you from the edge of the bed, almost frightened to get closer, to touch you. The sound of your voice startled him to say the least.

“Does the problem reside in me?” You asked quietly, feeling Loki finally lay down.

“Y/n, whatever do you mean?” He replied questioningly “you’re faultless” he added causing a small smile to spread across your lips as you moved back against him.

You both stayed like that for a while, content in one another’s spaces. You knew he wasn’t asleep and neither were you. You felt a nervous arm drape around you causing you to relax back further against Loki until you both did eventually fall asleep.

The following morning, you woke up first with the feeling of Loki’s arm still around you. It was comforting. Remembering Thor’s previous words, his threats, all feelings of comfort dissipated as you lifted it off of you before slipping out of his bed and out of his room wordlessly.

The sound of his door creaking closed caused Loki to stir as he woke up and realised that you had left. A feeling of guilt consumed him as he wondered if he had taken things too far last night by having his arm around you and whether or not you regretted even going to his room in the first place. He was anxious, a feeling that began to fade as he smelt you against his sheets.

“Where were you last night?” Thor demanded, sitting on the bed as you walked into your room.

“Not having loud sex, don’t worry,” you replied harshly.

“My apologies” Thor cleared his throat, his hard exterior shifting for a moment as he realised what you were inferring.

“Whatever” you rolled your eyes.

“In other news, I am needed elsewhere tonight” Thor announced, standing up.

“Elsewhere?” You practically gasped “but you said—”

“I know what I said” he dismissed you “you’ll have to go with the knave” he remidied.

“Knave?” You queried.

“Loki” he elaborated.

You tried to hide your elation at the fact that Loki would once again be joining you to the ball as you nodded to Thor before he left you. Alone, you allowed your smile to show freely as you thought about spending the night with Loki. You stood up, wrapping your arms around yourself as you imagined him holding you as you both danced. You closed your eyes, picturing it. Images of Loki in the garden with the chambermaid began to flood your system as you tried to ignore them before the image distorted, the chambermaid replaced by you. You took a shaky breath as Loki’s lips met your cheek in a light kiss before he began kissing your exposed shoulder. You ran your hands against your body, smoothing over your contours as you imagined they were Loki’s hands. It was wrong, you knew it was wrong, but the thought of Loki touching you so tenderly, intimately, stirred feelings in you, lecherous one’s. You knew nothing could ever happen despite your growing crush on the prince but it didn’t stop you from laying against the bed and pleasuring yourself as you thought about it. You wondered how Loki would fuck until you realised he wouldn’t, he’d make love. There’d be no rushing, just slow, leisurely strokes. He’d rock his hips against yours steadily before you both orgasmed.

Nothing could happen, you knew nothing could happen but you wished it would.

“Brother” Loki greeted Thor with a faux kindness they were both aware of.

“I unfortunately cannot make the ball meaning you’ll be accompanying y/n in my place” Thor spoke, looking around Loki’s room as he walked in “why hasn’t your bed been made? Must I personally retire your chambermaids?” Thor asked, noting Loki’s disheveled bed.

“No” he insisted “I have asked them to leave it, I’ll make it myself”

“Very well” Thor shrugged his shoulders before leaving Loki’s room.

Tags 🖤

@lokisgoodgirl @thenotoriouserg @chantsdemarins @donaweasley @xorpsbane @mcufan72 @loz-3 @sailorholly @lovingchoices14 @lokiedokiee @noideakitten @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @lokiprompts @lulubelle814 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @gigglingtiggerv2 @tmilover1993 @lyds247 @dustychinchilla74 @lokis-dark-queen @november-rayne @12-pm-510 @newtomofgods @eyesbluelikethetitanic @lokiestorch @beautyb1ade @angelilacsworld @lokidokieokie @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @asgards-princess-of-mischief @anundyingfidelity

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#oc fiction #loki fanfiction #tom hiddelston loki #loki x you #loki x y/n #thor x reader angst #thor x reader x loki #Loki

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heartrobynn · 3 months

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01. “The start of nothing.”

I ask everyone who interacts with this account to educate themselves, support, and donate to Palestine.

Please click to support Palestine, won’t take more than 20 seconds.

Author note: This is my first fanfic I’ve ever made, so if this is really butt I apologize on my behalf! 😥 I’d also really appreciate it if given criticism, so I can try to improve my writing!! Honestly, I was gonna scrap this because I hate how it turned out, but I would’ve felt bad since people were excited for it.

series masterlist

Word count: 1.6k

“BUZZ!! BUZZ!!”, the bulky alarm clock that sits on your nightstand sang. Mumbles escaped your lips as you slowly started to awaken from your slumber. Getting irritated from the repetitive siren, you forced yourself up and unplugged the whole device. “Fucking hell.”, you mumbled to yourself, already knowing today was gonna be a long day. Every semester, everyone’s schedule gets changed because you’re required to take 4 classes each semester, unless you have release time. Last Friday, everyone got their schedule and you came to find out you have no classes with your two closest friends, Arianna and Maia. Which you were really annoyed about because you don’t really talk to anyone else. (But hey, at least you guys have lunch with each other!!) It’s not even like you cannot make friends, you just kinda choose not to, better to keep your friend group small anyways.

After staring into the abyss for 5 minutes, trying to gain your consciousness, you decided to do something productive and hopped in the shower. After refreshing yourself for the day, you decided to wear an oversized, multi neutral color sweater and some dull colored jeans that weren’t your exact size, but not exactly over sized either. You added some jewels to your fit, so you looked less dead. Not having the energy to put on your usual makeup routine, you decided to apply mascara to your lashes and wore your favorite lip combo. After you were satisfied by how you looked, you grabbed your headphones and headed down stairs.

“Morning sleeping beauty, how was your sleep last night?”, voice coming from the man sitting down on the table chair, reading the latest newspaper like the old man he is. “Morning papa! My sleep was decent, wished I could’ve slept in though.”, you sigh as you’re putting on your UNIF Phoebes. “You know what happened last time I let you stay home, don’t need your mother being pissy towards me.”, your father opened his mouth to add on, but decided not to say anything else at the last second. You shift around in the kitchen, grabbing the chicken wrap you made last night and a bottle of water. Walking to the door to grab your book bag and stuffing all your items necessary for the day in it, “Alright, I’m leaving now. Stay safe, love you!”, you walk out the door to see Adrianna and Maia waiting for you.

You enter the back seat of the jet black Toyota Corolla, which belonged to Adrianna. As you enter the car, your ears immediately get blasted by the lyrics coming from the aux, however since it’s Window Seat by Erykah Badu, it's a valid excuse to be blasting music that loud at 7:15. “Hey boo, you look so adorbs today!”, your effortlessly pretty friend, Maia, tells you while staring at you through the rearview mirror. “Thanks my love, feel so shitty today, so that made me feel a little better”, you groan as you start to slouch in the car seat, dreading the fact y’all would be arriving at school in the next 10 minutes. Adrianna giggles at you, you were always the dramatic one out of the trio, “Trust and believe that you can last 3 periods without us until lunch. Plus, you could use this as an opportunity to get to know more people!” Maia nods her head agreeing with Adrianna. Even though you have Maia and Adrianna, your friends really were persistent in you meeting new people, especially since this was y’all last year, they just didn’t want you regretting missing out on so many opportunities. “Sighhh, I guess I could.”, you continue to slouch in the car seat, while Adrianna starts singing her own adlibs (that she swears up and down eats) and Maia groans in annoyance because she's gonna go crazy if Adrianna continues singing.

The first day with your renewed schedule wasn’t all that bad, but wasn’t interesting either. Well, not until your third period class. Your first period was Spanish IV, you sat in the back so you won’t gather much of your teacher’s attention later in the year. Even though you enjoyed learning Spanish, you hated when your previous Spanish teachers would randomly pick on you to read out a question or sentence they had on the board. Although, as you were seated in the back of the classroom, you noticed a certain auburn hair colored girl, she really only caught your eye because she was fast asleep during the little icebreakers your teacher showcased on the board. She was so into her sleep that you almost envied her, wishing you could sleep just like a newborn baby who just got breastfed just like she was. You whipped out your phone, not wanting to look like a creep for staring so hard and scrolled through r/AITA thread until class ended.

When the period ended, you and your friends met up with each other so y'all could walk each other to class, even if y'all had to go separate ways. “Bro there’s this girl in my class and I swear she’s the love of my life.”, Adrianna dreamily sighs thinking about the girl’s captivating beauty and her alluring smile, while you and Maia give her the stankest side eye. “Babes.., this is like the 3rd girl you swore was the love of your life in the past 2 weeks.” Adrianna redirected her attention to Maia while you added on, “no actually, and then they be the most vile looking creatures I’ve seen.”, Adrianna rolled her eyes at the both of you raining on her parade, “Why can’t y'all ever support me? If I wanna fall in love with every woman I meet, y'all supposed to be my best wingmen.” Adrianna playfully argued with the both of y'all before the warning bell rudely interrupted. “Oh shit, we gotta go. I’m not tryna get caught up in the hall sweep again.” All three of y'all quickly scattered as y'all said your goodbyes, thankfully your class was nearby, so you weren’t late!

You walked into your calculus I class, only to find there was one seat left and it was right in the front too. You already knew you were gonna despise this class, as you sat down in the seat, your teacher began to pass out papers to the class, “To those who just walked in, I’m passing out a review paper of different pre-calculus problems to refresh your memories for next class because we’ll be getting straight into the lesson.” Students around the classroom mumbling and groaning in annoyance, all you can do is just sit in silence as you’re about to fall into your inevitable doom. Your teacher hands your own paper, you look at the first question, only to find out you’re completely cooked.

After that abominable second period, you decided to go straight to your AP Physics class rather than hanging out with your friends during the passing period because you wanted to have the opportunity to pick your seat without being limited. However, that wish got immediately crushed when you walked in the classroom just to see assign seats displayed on the board, “are you fucking serious right now.” you think to yourself trying not to crash out in the middle of class. You look at the name of the girl who sat right next to you, Abigail Anderson. You’ve heard good and bad things about the girl, but you didn’t know her yourself personally, so you didn’t really have your own opinion on her. You looked away from the board scanning the room to find y’all seats, only to see the muscular girl on her phone, paying no attention to her surroundings. You sat next to her feeling really awkward, especially since she didn’t even look up at you to acknowledge your presence.

As the bell rings, your teacher starts to explain the reason why she has y’all in assign seats. Your seatmate is your assigned partner for any class work y’all have if it requires it and completing the study guides with each other, since the curriculum cannot be fully covered in class, you and your partner are responsible for teaching it among yourselves. You quietly celebrate in your head, relieved from the awkwardness from having to find your own partner. However, that relief is short-lived as your partner, Abby, raises her hand up, drawing the teacher’s attention. “Is there an issue, Ms. Anderson?” Your teacher asks as she views her clipboard to make sure she addressed the girl's name correctly. “Are we allowed to request a new partner?”, right then and there, a surge of embarrassment washes over you completely. “Unfortunately no, In the real world you’re gonna have to work with people you don’t want to or don’t know, so you need to get prepared for that starting now!”, your teacher firmly says. You catch a scoff and a muttered remark from Abby, being reluctant about working with you. Normally, you’d let shit slide, but today your mouth moves before you can stop. “Alright, now you’re doing entirely too fucking much, acting like I desperately wanna work with you or something.”, Abby turns her head to face you, giving you an insulting gaze before opening her obnoxious ass mouth to speak again. “Not my fault you look like an insufferable person, I personally don’t wanna work with someone who’s gonna cause me headaches.”, as she continued to speak, the more agitated you were getting, how is she gonna label you as an insufferable person when she doesn’t even fucking know shit about you?? Fuming with frustration, you're about to respond when the teacher intervenes, “Alright ladies, calm down. I don’t need any of that happening in my class, if y’all have problems with each other y’all can solve that on your own time. Anyways back to what I said previously...” As the tension eases, your teacher returns to her lesson, though the uneasy atmosphere lingers in the air. Throughout the remainder of class, your mind could only focus on the things Abby said, unable to shake the irritation she caused.

part 02. ??

Taglist:

@elliesactualgirlfriend @desireesfics

#🦦.fics #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x y/n #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby x fem!reader #abby x black reader #ellie x black!reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #black writblr #black reader #black tumblr #tlou fanfiction #tlou

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gurugirl · 4 months

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ex-boyfriend's dad!harry part 4 sneaky

You asked for a sneak peek for part 4 so here it is!! 1.2k words. Enjoy babes!

Full series to be posted on Tumblr soon!! Right now I have 3 parts up on Patreon if you don't want to wait to read until it's posted here. xoxo

. . .

So if you needed space to think about what had happened, Harry would give it to you. But what he wouldn’t do was pretend nothing had ever happened between you. That would be too easy. To have a fun little thing with a beautiful younger woman and then suddenly back up and cool off and then – poof – strangers.

He could just let you ghost him. He could move on and chalk up the time you spent together as just a little fun fling. No one would ever need to know. That would certainly be tidier. And he’d be able to maintain the relationship with his son as it was before you’d come along. It could just be a fun little secret that he looked back on fondly as he moved on with his life.

He could do that. But he wasn’t going to do that.

Why? Because somewhere along the way he accidentally started to let his big, heavy emotions come alive with you. It was an accident. But he couldn’t help it. Harry’d always been a lover. Someone who enjoyed sex, sure… but he was also someone who enjoyed the relationship that went with sex just as much.

And it wasn’t like he hadn’t had easy flings before; One-night stands and no strings attached relationships. But that wasn’t always possible with him. It wasn’t possible to feel nothing with you. It was quite the opposite.

He started imagining your smile and the way you made him laugh while he was doing mundane things like laundry or typing up an email at work. He began to imagine you waking up in his bed every morning with your croaky little voice and sleep lines on your face smelling like warm sheets and that unique scent that was just… you. He would be in the middle of watching something on television and feel the need to text you so you could turn it on and watch it too because he knew you’d love it.

So yeah. He started to really like you. As more than he should. It stung him a little to know you needed space to figure out whatever it was that went wrong. But he wasn’t going to stay away forever. He’d let you process but he had things he needed you to know and he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t at least tell you what those things were. You’d probably reject it all. You’d probably tell him that wasn’t what this was at all. You’d probably end it right then and there and that would be okay. If you didn’t feel the way he did that would be fair enough, Harry figured. But he wasn’t going to let things fade away and fizzle out. He was going to make you hear him out and if you didn’t like it then he’d step back and respect your wishes.

“Think I’m gonna call Y/n,” Tyler spoke as he walked into the kitchen behind Harry.

He turned to look at his son with confusion, “Why?”

He shrugged, “I feel like breaking up was a mistake. She probably regrets it too. I’ve been thinking a lot and I feel like I kind of just threw away everything because I was too scared to try stuff with her. I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone like her again. I was talking to Jay about it and he told me I was an idiot for letting her go like that. He said that a lot of girls don’t even really enjoy sex that much and if I had to pick between someone that’s into all kinds of weird things and someone that’s not into anything…” Tyler sat down at the kitchen table as he looked at Harry, “… that I might be better off with someone like Y/n. Because she loved sex. That’s for sure.”

Harry sighed and shook his head as he looked out the window over his sink. His son was still so stuck on the wrong reasons for your breakup. You didn’t just break up with him because you were sexually incompatible. You broke up with him because he was kind of a dick to you. Jealous all the time, manipulative. But of course, Tyler didn’t know his dad knew some of those details. You had told those things to Harry.

“She was a great girl, Ty. Do you think that’ll be enough for her to see you again?” Harry swallowed. He hated this. Hated that his son still had feelings for you. Hated that he missed you so bad and it’d only been two days. Hated that you hadn’t called or texted.

“I hope so. I miss her, ya know? Tried seeing this one girl a couple of weeks ago but there was just no comparison. Kept thinking of the way Y/n did certain things a lot better. I still love her too. I have to at least give it a shot.”

“You seemed so upset by her when she broke up with you. Kind of surprised by this a little.”

He really didn’t want Tyler calling you and mucking things up. It was selfish of Harry to think the way he was but if Tyler was still in love with you and tried reaching out that could be it for Harry. That would just complicate things further. But what could he do really?

“I was mad at first but I think the time apart helped me a little. And maybe her too. Maybe she’s missed me just as much, ya know? And she’ll want to compromise a little? Like we were together for 2 years. Almost two years. It would have been two years tomorrow actually so I was thinking about just giving it a shot. I’ll see if she wants to meet up tomorrow or something.” Tyler looked at Harry, “Should I get her flowers? Maybe make some grand gesture to show her how I feel about her? Jewelry even?”

Harry sat down at the table, his brows stitched together as he swallowed down the lump he felt in his throat., “Don’t buy her jewelry. What if she’s not interested in anything anymore? Don’t make any rash decisions, Ty. Okay? Just…” he sighed as he was about to give his son actual advice, against his better judgment, “Take it slow with her. Call her and see if she wants to meet up first. Flowers could be nice if she does. But don’t expect anything. Don’t push her.”

“Okay. So flowers might be good. Yeah. Okay,” he stood up from the table and pulled his phone out, “Would a text work? Or should I call? I should call shouldn’t I?”

Harry watched his son pace in the kitchen with his phone in his hand. Tyler was looking for advice from the wrong person but Harry wasn’t going to tell him that.

He couldn’t stop Tyler from reaching out to you and he couldn’t stop you from agreeing to meet up with him if that’s what you chose. But that didn’t mean Harry wouldn’t do something rash. Something he might regret in the long run. But sometimes those heavy and deep feelings you get for someone can make you do crazy things.

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #firstpost #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #harry styles fluff #harrystyles #ex-boyfriend's dad!harry #dad!harry #dilf!harry

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leclsrc · 1 year

Note

wake up babe its # leclsrc3000 time... can we get a breathing deeply and bouncing legs for some wedding vibes w/ charlie (We being me and my 4 cats)

test run – cl16

Filled with nerves, Charles asks for advice on his vows.

auds here... i would love to see the cats <3 hope u like this!

“Okay.” Charles fiddles with his tie, blinks a few times, and takes a few nervous breaths. He’s confident in the words, but still his eyes find refuge on the tattered, folded-up script he’d spent the plane ride over reading and scribbling to perfection. “Okay, here goes. Don’t judge with the edits.”

“Do you remember when we first met—you made fun of my parking, and I bought you a coffee, and we stayed in the café until it closed at midnight? The coffee was shit, but I was full of energy all the same. If I told myself then I’d be marrying that girl, the parking bully who joined me in making fun of the coffee, I’d be shocked, yes. But I would also be happy. Everyday I get to be with you is shocking, because you’re the best person I know. But there are a few things you—and a lot of people in the crowd—don’t know about how we met.”

He gulps and reads over the lines for a bit. “For starters, I wouldn’t have parked outside that café if Lorenzo, my brother, did not pester me to get him a croissant at nine in the morning. And he wouldn’t have wanted the croissant if Pierre, my good friend, didn’t post a picture of a croissant the day before. And Pierre wouldn’t have posted that picture if he was not gifted a box of them by Lando. I could go on and on, but the sentiment stands, in a sort of soulmate roundabout way. I was destined to find you.

“It’s difficult for me to say the words I want to say, which is why my reception speech will be in Italian.But this doesn’t mean I don’t love you—in fact, I’m convinced it means the opposite. My love for you, however new it is in my life, can last me my next five lifetimes. I love our crazy days together, I love your coffee order, and I love that you still bully my parking. I love you, my dearest.”

He stares at the last two words, my dearest, which he’d written last minute. As he does, he realizes his knee’s bouncing with nerves and he has to manually stop it, lost in thought. It reminds him of all the nicknames he uses for the people he loves, unique and a bit silly, but it’s a trademark of who he is in the end. It reminds him of kisses and love and the proposal in late November.

Two heavy inhales and exhales, then he looks up. Across him, in a bridesmaid’s dress holding a bouquet of lilies, you allow yourself to smile.

The stunning realization that you’ve loved much too late, that you’ve realized the gravity of your feelings on somebody else’s wedding day, hits you, a spear to the back. You turn slightly and face the window, watching the wedding prep on the lawn outside, trying with quiet desperation to blink your tears away. You hope he doesn’t ask too many questions, because you’re short of words; selfishly, all you really feel like saying is stay. It was a long time ago, being in love with him. But he let it go. It’s you who’s still tethered.

He comes up beside you. “Was it good?”

“Amazing. She’s going to love it.” In the pain and the haunting and the regret, you only wish you were lying.

#f1 #leclsrc3000 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #i realized i've been tagging non smut as smut its muscle memz #sorry!!! will stop from now moving forward #loves

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obsessedtomone · 6 months

Text

Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 1 - Convenience ▸Shigaraki x femReader

Summary: “If you fucking apologize to me right now, and manage to speak to the prof before—” he slides his sleeve just above his expensive-looking smartwatch and casually checks the time for you, “...the class ends in about three minutes, I promise you, you won’t regret it as much as you will if you do go through with this stupid thing you started with me.” his creepy smile didn’t falter a single damn inch as he threatened you, his voice cold as ice.

You wish you could turn back time and never cross his path that stupid night at the store.

You wish you were a different, nicer person, one that knows when to bow their head or to apologize if they messed up.

But you weren’t and you won’t. Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tagsTW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three

Chapter 1 - Convenience Pitter-patter.

With a pop of your joints, you reach for the moon or the ceiling or maybe the gods above. You reach and you reach and finally you feel that satisfying stretch burn through your muscles.

What time is it anyway?

Uh-oh. You cringe, because the birds are chirping, the first light of the day is starting to show and because… you’ve been fucking gaming your entire Saturday night.

You check your phone. It’s 4:30 AM.

And you could’ve been studying, could’ve been in touch with your project buddies, to send them your part of the project in time, but you didn’t and you won’t. Not at least until tomorrow anyway. Tomorrow, probably around ten minutes before your group’s deadline.

Yeah, you’re that special kind of asshole.

Looking around yourself, you realize that all of the sudden, your dorm feels so fucking stuffy you could suffocate. It’s messy and god knows when you opened your goddamn windows last.

That’s exactly what you decide your next action will be, as your mind briefly wandered back to your past few Valorant matches. You actually stayed up late, trying to climb to Diamond and dealing with the hyper-misogyny from random pathetic incels who immediately shit themselves the moment a woman opens her mouth on mic.

Whatever.

At least you weren’t living in your mommy’s basement, swimming in a sea of trash. You glance around your room and wince.

Okay maybe you were swimming in like—a puddle of trash. Lovely.

But that’s okay, because you were definitely way better than them on a societal level…Right?

You really don’t dwell very much on that particular thought.

With a yawn, you reach for the windows and open them wide. The cool air of soft autumn rain is invading your stale room the second you open them, and you feel the fresh oxygen invading your lungs. You wonder how long it’s been raining for already, when you finally feel your stomach—the one vital organ you’ve been purposefully ignoring all night, growling. Wait, what did you eat today?

When the fuck did you eat last, actually?

“Uuugh—”

On your way towards your tiny ass kitchen, you went ahead and decided what flavor of cup noodles to scarf down quickly before you hit the hay. Only problem is that you, in fact, did not have any instant noodles left.

Goddamn it.

You briefly glance down over your sorry excuse of an outfit—one that would put homeless people to shame, made up of plain black sweats and an oversized black hoodie. It takes you a total of two seconds to decide that it was good enough before you set off for the nearest 24 hour convenience store.

So you grab your phone, your keys, and that’s what you do.

─────────

It was still pretty dark outside, despite the hints of a rising sun, but it smelled like fresh morning rain and to your delight, it couldn’t be quieter around here.

Your neighborhood was incredibly sketchy, but you couldn’t complain given it was barely a fifteen minute walk to your university and the rent to your rundown two-room-apartment was dirt fucking cheap. It suited the broke ass bitch that you were and you liked it—one, because you have a thing for sketchy places and two, because it’s yours and yours alone.

The pepper spray you bought sits snugly in your kangaroo pocket, with your hand occasionally fidgeting and feeling the rim of the object. It made you feel safer knowing you had some leverage in a fight, should something unpleasant go down.

You’re used to being on guard after all the years of bad experiences. Of being on your own.

Of stupid shit that kept happening to you.

So you walk, if only with a little anxiety, because you still need to stay vigilant and not put the universe to a test.

The first thing you notice when you waltz into the corner store, is how goddamn bright the neon lights are.

They are far too bright for your tired gamer eyes that are used to hours of staring into dimmed screens.

It’s also eerily quiet inside—save for the whirring, clicks and occasional gurgling of the refrigerators in the back. Or at least that’s where you think the sounds come from.

It was odd that the current shift didn’t think of turning on the radio or something, but with a quick glance towards the staff at the counter, you realized by noticing their wireless earpieces that they couldn't give less of a fuck about the store’s ambiance.

Not that it mattered, when you were busy surveying the shelves in search of something edible. This ‘food’ consists mostly of snacks and other nutritionless garbage that would give nine point five out of ten doctors a cardiac arrest.

Speaking of heart failure, you find yourself in front of the refrigerated drink aisle, using all of your brain wrinkles to make your hardest decision yet.

Which one of the canned heart attack flavors are you gonna buy today?

You hummed, spending a good three minutes thinking, and when you finally go ahead and grab the energy drink—

“Hey.” a low and grating voice speaks right behind you.

You fucking jump at the sound, turn around with a scowl and then—straight out of a comedy skit, you feel like you’re staring at your male doppelgänger.

The guy looked super sketch, wearing black sweatpants that matched your own and the hood of his equally black colored hoodie up and covering a messy mop of white hair.

Next immediate thing you noticed were his intense crimson colored eyes, drilling a hole through the middle of your fucking skull.

If only looks could kill.

“Do you need something?” you fail to mask the venom in your voice, aimed at him for no good reason.

A skin care routine, you think.

Not like you bothered with one either, but your face wasn’t disintegrating into disgusting flakes, unlike his punk ass.

Motherfucker couldn’t wait two fucking minutes for you to pick something? Where the fuck do you have to be at like 4:50 in the morning???, you scoff but the words remain yet unspoken.

The hooded figure raises his hand to scratch at his pale neck, seemingly annoyed at your shitty attitude towards him.

He just had to meet the worst type of bitch at this ungodly hour on a Saturday no less—and he wasn’t having it. His eyes stare you down for a moment, noticing your face scrunching up at his sight, then as he rolls them he finally replies.

“You’ve been standing in front of the drinks for like ten fucking minutes, you ugly ass bitch. Pick something or get the hell outta my way.” he finally claps back, and with that, your eyes narrow.

“I was just about to, asshole,” you reply, your voice betraying you and ultimately cracking while you seethe. “Go ahead and grab your stupid ass drink, so you can finally go home to the boys and cry about women being mean to you.” you stand aside for him and motion to the drinks, all while his eyes widen in what you presumed to be shock.

And before he has the chance to talk back, you hurry the fuck up and leave.

The poor employee at the counter who saw the scene playing out (the store ain’t that big now), seemed to want nothing to do with any of this.

Graveyard shifts must be really fucking fun, when you’re graced with not one, but two annoying idiots.

You pat all four of your pockets, trying to find your wallet—when it dawns on you.

No way—

Ain’t no fucking way your stupid, braindead ass forgot your money at home.

Oh my god, this is not happening right now. Especially because the embodiment of patience is standing just a few inches behind you, shifting uncomfortably from one leg to the other and waiting with bated breath for you to finally pay and get lost.

“Uhh,” you cringe and scratch at the back of your head sheepishly. “Do—Do you guys keep tabs open? I kind of…forgot my wallet at home.” you say defeatedly, almost whispering the second half so that the guy behind you wouldn’t hear it.

The employee stares at your face as if you grew a second head and then replied curtly in a very bored tone.

“No.”

Your predicament made the guy behind you break into a creepy snicker. You shoot him a glare and dare him to say something, but he’s too busy laughing at you.

You prayed the ground would swallow you whole. Right fucking now.

With shame covering your face, you turn around to leave and swear to never set foot in this establishment ever again.

As you leave and before you have the chance to make good on your promise, the guy behind you reaches out—if a bit hesitant, and grabs your arm.

You wish a nuke would crash into this store and obliterate you, together with whoever was in it. Or maybe for aliens to finally make contact with planet Earth and take you the fuck away. Getting your ass probed sounded way more appealing than this incredible embarrassment you felt in front of the two strangers.

“Wait,” he looks at you—amused?

“What. Let go of me, man.” you panic and try to free yourself from his grip.

“I’ll pay.” he offers, a disturbing smirk playing on his dry lips.

This fucking guy.

“N-No, I’m good. Thanks.” you said, your voice shaking more than you wanted it to.

Tears finally prick at your eyes.

Why did you live your life this way? Why are you so pathetic–especially in front of assholes like him?

Why are you still so weak?

After everything you’ve been through?

You try once more to shake him off of you, but he’s deceptively strong and doesn’t relent now that he’s caught you where he wanted you to be.

“It’s okay, really, this just made my night. I’m going to pay for ya.” his smile got wider as he talked and with that, he swiftly pulled out some scrunched-up bills from his sweats, slipping them to the employee who could not give less of a fuck about whoever paid first. He grabs your already bagged purchase and basically shoves it to you, giving his best ‘Come again soon!’ bullshit line that actually translated to ‘Please fucking leave the store already’.

“How about that, huh? Now you owe me one, little bitch.” he leaned in and whispered into your ear, his voice low and raspy, sending shivers down your spine and rendering you absolutely speechless.

Without sparing you so much as a second glance, sketchy dude pays for his own shit and leaves the establishment in a smug stride. You could basically read the “EZ” he wrote in /all chat while destroying your fucking nexus.

What a horrible fucking night, you think to yourself while hurrying to go home as well.

Your only comforting thought was, that you wouldn’t have to see his stupid fucking pasty face ever again.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #emotional hurt/comfort #shigaraki tomura #unhealthy relationships #dead dove do not eat #trigger warnings #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x you #tenko shimura #tomura shigaraki #college au #reader is female

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amberlynnmurdock · 2 months

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The Good In You (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x Reader

Chapter Summary: On his way to her office, Dex is interrupted by Beckett.

Genres/Warnings: fluff, angst, mild violence

Words: 2.6k

Ao3 Link

The translucent lights of the office never bothered Dex until recently—until he started to feel himself veer off the path of a person who had a routine and stayed out of trouble. Since that night at the bar, other agents have treated him only slightly differently. It was obvious who took whatever bait Beckett was feeding them and it was obvious who didn’t.

“Morning, Dex,” Nadeem greeted in the kitchen. Dex was stirring his cup of coffee with two thin straws. He looked at Nadeem and offered a smile.

“Morning,” is all he says.

“You goin’ to the gala next weekend?”

“I don’t think so,” Dex replied regretfully, thinking of her disappointed expression when he told her the same thing. The moment Dex hit the word “Going” on the invite, he immediately regretted it, letting his anxiety get the better of him.

“You always miss it. You should come this year, Dex. Especially since __ is going,” Nadeem raised his eyebrows at the mention of her name. Dex ignored it, pretending not to see the implication.

“It’s not like that,” Dex answered truthfully. She was just a coworker he spoke to more than others, a coworker who seemed to take a liking to him, a coworker he happened to look forward to seeing every day.

“Just think about it,” Nadeem pats his hand on Dex’s shoulder. Dex nods, smile fading, as he watches the milk he poured turn his coffee a few shades lighter.

The thought of having anything romantic with her was enough to send Dex to run immediately for the fences, the woods, to be by his lonesome. He didn’t have time for something like that; he didn’t think he had the strength to uphold such a responsibility—a responsibility he couldn’t bear the thought of failing to uphold. It wasn’t her he was afraid of, but the idea she had of him that he knew he could never live up to. It was easier for him to admire someone from afar—always in the shadows, looking up at a tall statue. He felt closer this way, the farther he was. There was less of a chance of him screwing it up. There was less of a chance of getting hurt and abandoned.

Nadeem left the kitchen. Dex stared at his hot cup of coffee and half thought about making her a cup and bringing it to her office. How did she take it again? A dash of milk? There was still some coffee left in the pot, just enough for one more cup. Dex took a cup out of the drawer and poured the rest of the coffee into it. He grabbed the milk from the fridge and poured just enough that counts as a “dash.” He mixed it with two fresh straws and made his way to her office.

Dex slowly approached her office to make sure she wasn’t busy with a patient. Luckily, her door was open, and Dex could see her from outside her windows: she was sitting at her desk, scrolling through her phone. He smiled a little before stepping into the doorway to reveal his presence.

Dex cleared his throat.

“Oh, morning, Dex,” she said, slightly startled. She locked her phone and sat up straight in her chair. “You won’t tell anyone you caught me slacking, will you?”

Dex shook his head with a light laugh. “Never. I made you a cup of coffee—you like it with just a dash of milk, right?”

“Yes,” her face lightened up when she saw Dex holding the second cup in his hand. The warmth from her expression radiated to his skin when she met him halfway and felt her take the cup from his hand. “Thanks for thinking of me. How are you? I haven’t had you in my office in a while. I guess that’s a good thing.”

Dex smiled and looked down. Truthfully, he’d been avoiding her, even though he didn’t want to. Plus, he hasn’t been sent on any challenging jobs lately that could get him hurt.

“I guess I better start making more time for you then,” Dex said with a smile. “I’m doing fine. Things seem pretty calm right now. But that always means something crazy will happen soon.”

“Hopefully not,” she says. “I like the calm. I like how it is now.”

“How are you? Had to fix or heal anything crazy lately?” He tried for light conversation. Internally, Dex felt himself cringe.

“No, thank God,” she laughed. “Just some small wounds. I’m good, though. Better now that I have coffee.”

“Good,” Dex replied. “I don’t want to hold you up if you’ve got work to do. I’ll come by later to say hello.”

“I’ll be waiting,” she smiled at him. Dex held her eye contact for a bit longer before he smiled himself. He left her office, closing the door gently.

Dex was good at picking up on smaller details—seeing things other people may have missed. But when he walked out of her office, he missed the jealous eyes that were watching him carefully from across the room.

◎◎◎

A few hours had passed in the day, and she was still in her office, focused on the paperwork in front of her. From where Dex was sitting, he could see her at her desk. His eyes glazed over her and back to his screen, where he really should’ve been paying attention.

Except, he hasn’t been able to focus on anything all day. Their conversation from this morning was stuck in his head like a song. Better now that I have coffee. I’ll be waiting.

Debate was stuck in his mind too about the gala. He imagined himself wearing a tuxedo. What color dress would she wear? Dex imagined picking her up and protectively holding her in his arms the entire night. He knew what some of the other agents thought about the women in the office—if he made it clear that she was his, he’d dare them to say anything disrespectful about her. Would she want to dance?

Nadeem had encouraged him to go the gala, and the problem with encouraging Dex to do something out of his comfort zone was he’d sit on the thought for hours, days, however long it took for him to convince himself it was a bad idea. But this time, Dex really hoped for a different outcome.

“You have to let someone in,” Dr. Mercer once said to him. “Develop a natural connection.”

Could she be that person?

All he had to do was go to the gala. And before Dex knew it, he was on his way to telling her himself.

Until a large block of a person turns a corner and stands right in front of Dex, stopping him in his tracks. Beckett.

Dex takes a deep breath and straightens his back.

“You’re in my way,” Dex says as casually as he can.

“In your way for what? So you can distract __ from work? Or you can fake an injury on your leg and she’ll take off—“

“What the hell is your problem?” Dex cuts him off, unaware of the other members in the office now looking at him and Beckett. Beckett takes a step forward as Dex takes a step back.

“You piss me off, Poindexter,” Beckett spits. He’s turned into such a giant bully with no hand-eye coordination. Threatened by Dex for whatever reason.

“Step away,” Dex says in a controlled breath. It won’t look good if Dex is reactive to how aggressive Beckett is being right now. One of them is going to be suspended and it’s not going to be Dex. He has to play his cards right—and provoke Beckett.

“Or what?” Beckett taunts, taking another step while Dex backs away slowly. “Why don’t you use some of that lethal force everyone complains about you and use it on me?”

“Stop it,” Dex remains in control with every labored breath he takes. “Step away, Beckett.”

“I saw you in her office this morning,” his voice is getting louder. “You’re not fooling anyone, pretending to be a nice guy.”

“Maybe this has nothing to do with her,” Dex stated, “and it all has to do with you not being able to stand the reality that maybe she just doesn’t care about you. At all. And you should stop bothering her.”

And like a bright flash of light, Dex’s right cheek is hit with Beckett’s fist, sending him to the floor. His side is met with the tip of his boot and Dex clutches himself in pain.

Perfect.

“What the hell?! Someone grab him!” Hattley appears from behind as a few agents take Beckett by the shoulders and throw him on the ground. “Agent, what the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Me?” Beckett roars. “What the hell is wrong with him—“

“The conference room” Hattley looks at the agents who are holding Beckett back. “And lock it behind you until I get there.”

Dex sits himself up on his elbows, breathless from the impact and quickness of it all. Nadeem kneels by his side and helps him.

“My goodness,” Nadeem says under his breath, helping Dex stand up. “Well if anything’s going to happen now, I can assure you Beckett won’t be a problem anymore and your name is cleared in the office.”

◎◎◎

Well, her day certainly went from boring to occupied quickly.

She didn’t hear much of the commotion from her desk, but she quickly noticed everyone’s attention from outside her office focusing on something that was happening a few feet from her door. When she heard Beckett’s voice from outside getting louder, she knew it had to be Dex he was talking to. And before she could leave her office to see, it was too late—Dex was already wounded on the floor.

And now here he was, sitting in her office, like a rained-soaked puppy. He held an ice pack to his cheek and clutched his side. She was rattling through her drawers to find the proper tools. Stethoscope, light, healing gel and bandages.

She turned around and walked to Dex again, avoiding eye contact. For some reason, she felt embarrassed. Shy. Or maybe she was trying her best to hide how much she actually cared about this man who sat wounded on her exam table.

“I’m sorry, Dex,” she said quietly as she took his hand that held the ice pack away from his face. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was she was sorry about.

“Don’t be,” Dex said. “I’ve had worse.”

She held the light to his already large forming bruise. Luckily, no skin was split open, meaning no stitches were needed. She squeezed a little of the gel on her fingertips and began to dab at the bruise. Dex shut his eyes—the bruise stung when touched. He tried to hide how painful it actually was.

“Well, I heard Beckett was officially suspended until further notice. You can’t attack another agent like that. It’s against policy, like one of the worst rules you can break.”

“That’s good,” Dex offered.

“And whatever he’s been saying about you, hopefully, this clears things up that it was him all along who was the problem. I never believed it was you, for the record. You're a good person,” she said.

He averted his eyes when she said the word good. “I didn’t care about all that,” Dex replied. “I was on my way to your office. I knew he was just trying to get to me through—“

“What even was it he attacked you for?” She cuts him off accidentally. “I can’t understand why.”

Dex sighed. You, he wanted to say.

“The same reason he was on Hattley’s radar after the bar that one night.”

“What, for saying things about the women here again? But what does that—“

Oh, she realized.

Perhaps it wasn’t just about all the women in the office—maybe in particular for Dex’s case, it was her he was saying crude things about. She didn’t even want to know what specifically was said, but she had a good idea in her mind.

“Yeah,” Dex nodded, noticing her realization. “When he said something about you at the bar… I didn’t like it. I grazed a dart by his head. He didn’t like that. That’s why we were all pulled in that one day. Add you turning him down for the gala, and… as he described it… me distracting you from work… guess it really pissed him off.”

“Huh,” she said, taking in his words, which may have been the most Dex had ever spoken to her. “Interesting.”

“I’m sorry it had to do with you,” Dex said. “This whole thing.”

“It’s okay,” she answered. “At least he’s gone for now. And your name is cleared.”

“Right.”

She held his dark eyes for a moment and then realized he was still clutching his side in pain.

“Oh,” she said, “let me look at your ribs real quick. Do you mind if I…”

“No,” Dex shook his head, avoiding eye contact, a light blush on his face. “Do what you need to.”

She slowly, and slightly shakily, lifted his shirt just up to his chest. She tried her best to hide the blush on her face, and more so tried to avoid looking at his defined abs, to focus on his ribs. There was a bruise formed on his left side. She has to touch it to make sure nothing’s broken.

“I have to touch you,” she says quietly.

“Do what you need to,” he repeats in a low voice, avoiding her eyes.

She gently traces his skin where the bruise formed lightly. Goosebumps form on his skin.

“Does it hurt to breathe at all?”

“No,” he shakes his head.

She puts more pressure on the bruise to feel his ribs, and Dex holds his breath.

“Breathe, Dex,” she reminds him. He lets it out softly and finally looks at her. She’s unsure of what to make of his expression. It’s intense. And this suddenly feels more than just her making sure he’s not badly hurt. But he doesn’t mind it. Neither does she. The look he gives her makes her heart feel like it’s in his hands.

She looks away, feeling his ribs more.

“Nothing’s broken,” she pulls his shirt down and avoids his eyes who follow her as she walks across the room. It suddenly felt hot. When she returned to his side, the intense look was still on his face. He averted his eyes from her gaze, jaw clenched.

“I would take it easy. No crazy missions for two weeks. Keep icing your bruises and try to sleep on your back,” she said quickly. Dex nodded. He slowly slid off the exam table and stood in front of her. She looked up at him and then looked at her windows. The blinds were always shut when there was someone in her room.

“Thank you for defending me,” she says after a moment of silence, locking eyes with him. Dex’s features softened.

“No need to thank me,” he tells her.

Dex looks in the direction of her windows too. Mirroring her movements. But what was it they needed to hide?

Something compels Dex to move the strands of hair that fell over her eyes. He tucks them behind her ear and holds her face in his hands. She places her hand on top of his and holds him there for a moment.

Nothing happens. Dex takes a long look at her features.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. He pulls his hand back and goes to the door. But before he can leave, she asks him a question.

“What were you on your way to my office for, anyway?”

Dex pauses, hand on the doorknob. The gala. But something stops him from telling her the truth.

“I wanted to say hello like I said I would earlier.”

Turning the knob, he leaves her in her exam room alone, full of that same feeling of regret.

Whatever it was they felt for each other, it was certainly undeniable for both of them now.

#benjamin poindexter x reader #benjamin poindexter #ben poindexter #dex #wilson bethel #bullseye #daredevil #daredevil born again #the good in you

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dandelionterminal · 1 year

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when they have a plus size s/o pt. 4

tags: plus size reader, reader is a vision holder (Tartaglia's), reader is a healer (Tartaglia's), fluff, hurt/comfort, insecure reader, jealous reader (Tartaglia's), major retconning of plot, not beta read pronouns: [region] in Kazuha's, [vision] in Tartaglia's, [weapon] in Tartaglia's characters: Kaedehara Kazuha, Tartaglia (separate) begins below the page break

~you braved the storm, welcome to Inazuma~

Uses [region] as a placeholder for the region of Teyvat you feel most at home in

Total words: 1292

Kazuha: where you are a new crew member on the Alcor and Kazuha falls in love with you on the sea. You join the Crux as a roaming adventurer and bond with Kazuha over your shared love of writing. When he begins to feel love for you, you push him away. How could a samurai love someone like you?

You meet Kazuha after he hears you hiding in the ship's storage as a stowaway

He decides to allow you to stay and help you hide after hearing your struggles

He’s genuinely so nice

When you meet Kazuha he is so warm and inviting that you end up spilling your guts to him

He fully understands you and helps you get on your feet

Once you start dating he writes you love poems that are so gushy you’re embarrassed

He’s so tender and kind to you that you never doubt him

The Alcor had docked in Liyue several nights ago and you were just now getting the gusto to approach. You had made your rash decision when the ship first docked. You needed to make it to another nation before you were caught by your family and this was the most seamless way. Would you feel bad later? Sure. But now is not the time to think about regrets. As night fell over Liyue Harbor you began your little operation. You crept up to the ship and dove into the water between the ship and the dock. As the voices of the crew died down you shimmied your way up the side of the ship, shivering from the cold once you hit the deck. You crept into the ship's storeroom and curled into a ball behind some barrels. You drifted to sleep, your freezing body giving out to the bitter cold of the night.

The next morning you awoke to the sounds of stomping feet above you. The Crux crew was awake and lively as ever it seemed. You sniffled and curled further into a dark corner as the shifting waves swept the ship to sea. You leaned your head against the barrels and hoped that wherever the ship sailed was far away.

It wasn’t long though until you heard soft, delicate footsteps come into the room. You covered your mouth and nose with your hands and stiffened your shivering body. You begged your form to be still and not bumbling and clumsy for once in your life.

“I know you’re in here,” a gentle voice softly calls out. “Just come out, I won’t hurt you.” Right, like you were going to fall for that. This was a pirate ship. You knew what pirates did. You’d read it in novels.

The owner of the voice sighed and began to look for you. As he moved you could see the brilliant colors of his yukata, the sleeves billowing like the leaves adorning it. He peeked behind crates and between barrels before coming upon your frightened form. He smiled at you. “Found you,” he said. His eyes were gentle as he held a hand out to you. When you scrambled farther away he frowned and sat on his feet. He withdrew his hand and set it on his lap. “I won’t hurt you,” he reiterated. “I don’t have a habit of hurting people who do not ask for it.”

You shook your head. “Maybe you don’t but your captain might.” you whispered. He smiled again.

“Captain Beidou is kind, she wouldn’t hurt someone with no weapon,” he said.

You scowled at him, brows down in an angry glare “And how do you know I don’t have a weapon?” you asked.

“I can tell,” he said simply. “Are you done being afraid of me now? I have no intention of hurting you. I would like to help you,”

Your scowl turned to a squint. “Help me?” He nodded in return.

“You stowed away for a reason,” he said. “So I would like to help you.”

“And what’s in it for you?” you emplored.

“A story,” he said. “Tell me your story and I will help you.”

“That cannot be all it is,” you reply, “There is always more”

“I have no interest in more,” he replied.

You pause, contemplating. At this point what did you have to lose? You had made it this far and had nothing left to go back to. So you gave in.

“I ran away,” you said. “I come from a well-known family in [region]. I am getting older and am past my youth… my family wanted me to get married to continue the family legacy.” The more you talked the more things just tumbled out of you. You kept checking his expression and he seemed so intrigued. He listened and nodded along as you told your story. You expressed your hopes and dreams, and you told him about the spouse your family had found for you even though you held no love for them. You told him how it was almost your wedding day and you ran away. You told him about the note you had left behind at your family’s home and the tear stains that were drenched into the parchment of it. When you finished your story it was daybreak. The man simply nodded his head and smiled at you.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said. He rose to his feet and offered you his hand. He helped you to your feet, “I’m Kadehara Kazuha. Welcome to the Alcor, stow away.”

To say Captain Beidou was less than thrilled about your arrival was an understatement. While she didn’t mind having a new crew member, per se, she was unhappy with how you’d done it. The rest of the crew was less than welcoming as well. The normally happy and lively crew was skeptical of your ability to pull your weight. A round, spoiled person from a well-to-do family was not likely to be able to pull their weight in their eyes. But you were determined to prove yourself. You scrubbed the deck, hauled cargo, anything to prove yourself to the Crux crew. Your “blemishless skin” (the Crux’s words) began to show sun spots from all your time baking in the rays. Your “soft baby hands” were callused from work. Your hair was always pushed away from your face and sweat always trickled down your nose. Eventually, the crew began to warm up to you. Some more than others.

Kazuha spent a lot of his time watching you. The time he normally spent writing lamenting poems about the solemness of the ocean turned into haikus about a certain soft individual’s beauty. Weeks passed with you aboard the ship and it was a surprise you hadn’t found his love poetry yet. He was glued to your hip most of the time. He escorted you places, showed you the scenery of Inazuma and Liyue, and tenderly and kindly tucked you in at night. The crew began to tease both you and him about it.

One morning, you awoke to a letter next to your head. You sat up, knowing who it was from before you even opened it. No one else on that ship would write you a letter. You opened it to see a beautiful poem written in delicate handwriting.

Twilight and its delicate sparkling stars

Do not compare to your eyes on that night

A frightened dove, you froze and tried to flee

But flew straight into my heart

Meet me on the deck at sunrise

-Kazuha

You frowned at the letter but threw on some clothes and headed to meet him. It was still dark out that morning when you saw him sitting on the railing. He turned to you and smiled, “It is not dawn yet, y/n,” he said.

You frowned at him, “Kaedehara, you must be confused,” you said.

“Confused how?” he replied

“There’s no way that poem was real,” you responded. “Those feelings sounded… romantic”

“And they were,” he said, floating down onto the deck. His movements were soundless, like the wind itself. He approached you slowly like you were that frightened bird in the poem. “I care for you.”

“You can’t,” you replied. “I’m… not meant for you.”

He smiled warmly. “But I was made for you,” he replied. “I was made to compliment you.” He touched your cheek, gently stroking it. “I love every part of you, even if you can’t love it yourself.”

You trembled under his touch, unsure of what to do. “I can’t compliment you. People will mock you for being with me.”

“No,” he said. “They will envy me,” he kissed your forehead and tucked you against him.

~Sneznhaya, try to keep warm~

Uses [vision] and [weapon] as placeholders for what weapon and vision you feel drawn to. Uses Russian pet names, written in English letters for an easier reading experience.

Total words: 1616

Tartaglia: where you are his assistant and healer on a job and he won’t stop flirting with you. You tell him to cut out the jokes, but he insists he’s serious. Over the months, you both end up having feelings for each other. When he continues to flirt with other people, like the traveler, you confront him on how he should be with them.

He’s a huge jokester and flirts when you meet

Turns out that’s just his personality

He keeps telling you he’s serious but you don’t believe him

You two bond during the mission

When you get jealous he’s very amused

Likes to hold you by the waist

He will do anything to keep you safe

Being an assistant in the Fatui was a pain, in more ways than one. Your healing abilities and vision made it hard to get any work that wasn’t dangerous or outrageous. At the end of the day, you still wanted to go home to your family. After gaining a reputation as an exceptional healer among the ranks of the Fatui you started to get more high-profile jobs. The biggest one so far was when you were paired with the youngest and one of the fiercest of the eleven harbingers for a high-stakes, dangerous job collecting a debt. What you did not know was taking that job would lead to you becoming this harbinger’s personal assistant.

You met Tartaglia, or Childe as he seemed to prefer to be called, on a typical day in Snezhnaya. It was snowing and blustery, the skies dark with heavy cloud cover. You were bundled in your heavy uniform coat, your vision hanging loose on your chest. You were guided to Childe, who was looking over some paperwork at a desk, by a Fatui peon. Tartaglia looked up at you from his paperwork and gave a polite smile, his eyes distant and hiding coldness.

“You must be the healer assigned to me, correct?” he said, his ginger hair falling loose in his face. The heavy red scarf he wore covered him up to the chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. You nodded at him, giving a small bow.

“Y/N, lord harbinger,” you said. You kept your head low, waiting for his response. “Rise,” he said, voice cold and distant. He looked you up and down. “Don’t hold me up on this mission, clear? And call me Childe, formalities will cause complications.”

You nodded again, “Yes sir, Childe”

He grinned at you, “You learn quick, I see,” he said. “You can relax, I have no intention of being a strict superior.” He waved off the Fatui swordsman that had escorted you, who bowed and left. “Take a seat, let’s get familiar with each other. I see you have a vision, [element] type at that. Is that what you use to heal?”

You sat across from him in a small chair, shrinking your shoulders to make yourself as small as possible. You nodded at him. “I am very capable,” you said. “Despite my appearance, I am a capable fighter and healer.”

Childe leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. The black fur of his harbinger coat rose around his ears as he chuckled. “I don’t doubt it,” he responded. “You wouldn’t have risen this high in the ranks if you were not capable.” He moved his arms to cross behind his head. “If you would like, we could spar. Prove yourself as capable as you claim.”

You scowled at him slightly, a faint frown and downturn of your eyebrows the only physical sign of your disapproval.

“Lord ha- I mean Childe, surely you must be joking. I am no match for you.” You respond. Childe grinned.

“While that may be the case I’d still like to see your skill.” He stood, offering his hand to you. “Come on, little healer, show me what you got.”

You took his offered hand hesitantly and stood to your full height. Childe grinned and shed his coat and scarf, brandishing his bow. You pulled out your own weapon, again hesitant to face off against the harbinger. The battle started off as you just protecting yourself and dodging his attacks. You repeatedly healed your own wounds to keep the fight going. Eventually, you learned his patterns and could attack him. After a few solid hits, he backed off, putting his bow away and dissolving his hydro swords. You backed off too, prepared to heal his wounds.

“Capable indeed, comrade,” he said. “Not to my level yet, but capable,” he grinned at you. You began to heal him and he smiled. “Your healing feels warm.”

“I’ve heard that before. It’s supposed to be soothing,” you said.

“I could get used to this.”

Childe and you were close. Like… people called you his “work spouse”. After your initial mission together you were joined at the hip… well more like he always had his hand on your hip, his arm wrapped around your waist. He would whisper flirtations in your ear to make you turn red. When you would tell him to stop joking around he would laugh and say “I never joke with you, moy dorogoy”. You would roll your eyes and walk away with your arms crossed, trying to not show that your heart was flying like a hummingbird in your chest.

You and Childe had been in Liyue for a while. Turns out he had been transferred to the bank branch there. He wasn’t getting injured as often. In fact, it only really happened when he went debt collecting. Even though he was getting injured less he fought to keep you there with him. The Fatui had tried to transfer you to be someone else’s assistant but he fought them and insisted he needed you. They eventually relented and you got to stay in the cushy position you’d found yourself in.

Recently a traveler has been hanging around Childe. Their golden hair and slim body irks you. They and their little floating fairy are always around him, clinging to him. He even gave them a nickname and “loaned” them money. You thought you were going to kill him when you found out.

“Childe you gave them money? That is money from your personal account! It’s what you eat with!” you shouted.

Childe just smiled at you, “don’t worry, velikolepnyy. We still have plenty,” he said.

You sighed, “It’s not our money, Childe, it’s yours. Stop spending your money on other people, let alone me.” Inside, you were steaming with an unrecognized feeling. You didn’t know what it was that was eating at you. This beautiful and mysterious person had shown up in Childe’s life and he was giving them the attention that used to be almost exclusively yours. You didn’t realize it, but you were jealous.

You sighed, recalling that memory was awful. The traveler had wormed their way into Childe’s heart. You always felt like an obvious, large, third wheel… fourth wheel if you count the weird silver fairy that hung around the traveler. The four of you were walking through Liyue Harbor one night. You trudged a few steps behind the trio ahead of you. Childe was smiling, telling the traveler about Sneznhaya. You frowned at them, thinking that no one would notice if you left. Your thoughts raced as feelings washed through you. Crimson anger, empty sadness, suffocating fear… you took off back to your lodgings. Once you got back, you curled into a ball on your bed. You lay there, surrounded by the trinkets Childe had bought you. You felt like you were falling into a cave. The hole in your heart ate away at itself, causing your head to spiral into a funnel of self-loathing and anger. Tears ran down your cheeks as you came to the realization that you were in love with Childe, all of these thoughts because you loved a boy.

Back on the streets of Liyue, said ginger boy is frantically looking for you. He hand noticed your absence only moments after your exit. He had reached for your hand subconsciously, something he had been doing since the two of you arrived in Liyue, and noticed you weren’t there. He turned to the traveler, asking where you went. They didn’t have an answer, their gold eyes confused. He immediately apologized for his sudden exit and took off to look for you. He began to blame himself. Something must have happened to you and he didn’t notice. He looked in alleyways, he search the ground for blood spatter, he hunted for you like he was playing hide and seek with his siblings.

Eventually, he went to your lodgings. He had exhausted himself and all his leads. When he spotted you he fell to his knees.

“Y/n…” he said. “I thought I’d lost you.”

You looked at him from your bed, wiping the tear tracks. “Lost me?” you asked. “I just came home to rest.”

“You didn’t tell me. I thought someone had gotten you,” he said, voice hoarse.

You tilted your head at him. “I can handle myself,” you said. “I don’t need your protection.”

He sighed, laughing humorlessly, “I know, I know… but… forget it,” he stood up and dusted off his gray pants. He looked at you and sat next to you on the bed, laying his head on you. “I was worried,” he said.

You were stiff. “I’m sorry,” you replied.

“Just… tell me why you really left. You were crying,” he said. “Your eyes were red.”

You sighed after a bit of silence. “Just me being stupid,” you said.

“You could never be stupid. You’re smarter than most of the Fatui agents we work with,” he said back.

You sat in silence, contemplating. You could lose your job, you could lose your friendship… but should you hold it in? He deserved the truth. You shut your eyes, squeezing them tight. “I’m in love with you.”

He stopped breathing, you swear. He just stopped moving and was silent. “Why would that make you leave?” he asked after what felt like an eternity.

“Because…” you trailed off, “You like that traveler more, so I was giving you space. I take up too much anyway.”

He laughed, deep and guttural, “Lyubov, I don’t like them more than you. You’re irreplaceable,” he said, snuggling into you. “I love you, too. And I don’t joke with you."

#kazuha #tartaglia #genshin #genshin x reader #plus size #kazuha x reader #chubby #x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact #better very late than never #kadehara kazuha #childe #childe x reader #ajax #childe tartaglia ajax #ajax genshin impact

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thisgameissonintendo · 1 year

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here’s the thing about me + lockwood content

before lockwood & co. i wasn’t really in the mood for editing. yes, i did come up with videos and photo edits but i wasn’t really enjoying it much. it was the same all over again. a new episode - a new video. don’t get me wrong, i loved the show (still do, it’s magnum p.i. i’m talking about) but i’ve been editing that for years now.

every now and again a show was coming back with a new season. the umbrella academy for example. i did my usual “new season = one edit with number 5“ and then stopped (because there’s not really much content to use when there’s 50 main characters and you’re only willing to sit down to edit one of them).

then outer banks came back, i thought “hey, time for a new rafe edit“. he wasn’t in it much. i didn’t come up with a video. fine, okay, back to magnum p.i. (which i still LOVE to death, don’t get me wrong, i would always come up with edits, it’s my 2nd favorite show now) but sometimes it’s nice to have different characters to work with.

wednesday was released and i really liked that, especially tyler. i made some photo edits and a few videos (4 or something). and what then? back to the old routine?

no, lockwood & co. was out. i remembered i had seen the trailer a while ago and liked it so i clicked ‘play‘. and look where we are now. i don’t know the last time one character has sparkled any interested in me and got me this motivated. a new one as well, might i add. i don’t do well with new characters since i always have to kinda let them get to me first, you know. it’s quite the process, too, when you want to edit. you have to get the episodes, the scenes you wanna use, you have to select 0.04 seconds from episode 1 and then 0.02 seconds from episode 8 because you think they could work really well together. so it’s a lot to think about even for short videos or photo edits (find the right episode for a certain scene, take screenshots, have ideas of what you wanna do with that screenshot, find good fonts, effects,…) i think you get me. it takes a lot of dedication (for me) to accept a character. and it’s not like i don’t like most of them. i like a lot. for example i’ve enjoyed characters from titans, fate: the winx saga, the sandman, hsmtmts and so on.

so, what i usually do when i watch a new show is play it in the background. i don’t know any character - i’m not interested in any of them. i press ‘play’ and scroll through instagram or twitter. however with lockwood & co., i didn’t. i had my phone sitting right next to me but i didn’t click on instagram. i didn’t click on twitter. i actually watched the show from the first second on. for some reason it was very special to me, i can’t explain it. it felt like i had found THE show (and character) for me. the one show that could get me back into editing, actually loving what i do and create. and it did. look where i am now.

i’m very emotional about this, i cannot even find proper words to express how thankful i am for all of this. i wake up in the morning and am excited about the evening because that’s the time of day i 1) have time to re-watch the show 2) read the books (again) or 3) edit. so this whole saving campaign is not only a matter of stopping netfl** bullshit with unnecessary cancelations, it’s also a matter of heart for me. lockwood & co. is my comfort show. i’ve found it after so many years and i didn’t even know i needed one but i did. lockwood & co. is not your ‘typical ghost show’. lockwood is not your typical good-looking, dick-ish protagonist, he’s way more. he’s the reason i’m doing all of this. i’m trying my best to help with whatever i can because they all deserve to come back for at least one more season. so, every day i stay up until 3-4am, get up at 9am the same day and i don’t regret a single thing. i wanna do this. and i know we can all help them get a new season, together.

it’s been four months (and two days) since the release of lockwood & co. in these four months i’ve been the most creative i’ve ever been, i’ve met the most kind people on social media and i’ve never loved editing more than i do now. and all thanks to anthony lockwood.

#i don't think anyone will read this until the end but i was emotional #and i needed to write it down #i'm not good with words and mumble most of the time #but yeah i love that show #lockwood #lockwood & co #lockwood & co. netflix #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #l&co #l&co. netflix #anthony lockwood

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peaky-shelby · 1 year

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DEFINE ME | Neymar Jr x Oc [3]

Summary: Famous Singer and Actress, Gabriella Hamill, travels to Qatar after being invited on live television by her favorite player, Lionel Messi. Despite the invitation, Ella tries to avoid the cameras and hide in plain side, wanting to enjoy the games without the chaos that comes with being in Public places and it all seems to be going well until she meets Neymar Jr. in this bad boy meets good girl story, the definition of good and bad is lost between the lines and redefined by the past and future.

《 previous chapter

Chapter 3: insomniac by definition

Chapter summary: Gabriella starts realizing that perhaps neymar has more power over her than she thought.

Writer's note: thanks for the love!! Dont forget to comment to unlock the next chapters!!!

Tagging a few that seemed interested @xngelsau @sirensanction @reneyahh @thegrinch101 @geekwritersworld @chaotic-taco-collector-blog (lmk if you want to be tagged)

Gabriella was taking small bites from her croissant while scrolling through twitter. The fans were already talking about Neymar following her. Maggie was sitting across from her, talking about him following her was a disaster. She said that doing nothing would be best, everyone would just assume he followed her because of Messi. A part of her felt bad for not following him back but she knew there would be no coming back from that and by the time she had hit the follow bottom everyone would suspect she was in Qatar.

“Remind me what we have to do for the day?” she asked Maggie, not taking her eyes off her phone.

“We are on vacation; we don’t really have anything to do.”

“No games?”

“Brazil game is tomorrow.” Said Maggie eating a spoonful of the fresh cake she had bought. She glanced at Gabriella with a warning look. Gabriella smiled.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.”

Maggie swallowed her food and crossed her arms, laying back on her chair. “I have a feeling I will regret everything about this trip when we get home.”

“We are not going home, we are going to Greece, remember?”

“Oh I remember! Do you remember? Because I can already imagine you packing for brazil!”

Gabriella laughed “I don’t even like him! He’s an entitled prick! Last thing I need in my life is to get mixed up with his shit.”

“Yes, because bad boys are totally not your type.”

Gabriella let down her phone and looked at Maggie with complain in her eyes “low blow!”

Maggie smiled and got up, picking up her dirty plates and glass. “4 years is a long time out of the game Gabriella” She walked to Gabriella’s side, looking down at her “I said it before and I’ll say it again. Be careful.”

Maggie left for the kitchen and Gabriella looked back at her screen, Neymar’s picture glowed in it. Then a text appeared on the top of the screen, it was from Leo and it wrote “los chicos quieren volver a verte. ¿Te importa si los llevo antes del entrenamiento?.” She had to google the translation just to be sure that he was asking if the kids and Antonella could stay with her while he was training. In other circumstances she would have thought twice before saying yes but she couldn’t even leave the house and she had nothing better to do so she agreed.

BRAZIL’S BASE – QATAR

Neymar was already finished with his morning training, he was sitting, wet after the shower, on the edge of his bed. His eyes were glued on his phone waiting for Gabriella to follow him back. He was nervous. He quickly opened his contacts and called his friend.

“Ola Messi. Commo estas?”

“Estoy bien. Voy a entrenar. ¿Por qué?”

Neymar hesitated; did he really want to bother his friend with this before his training. He felt like a teenage boy, getting caught writing notes for the girl on the front desk. He asked if he was going to see Gabriella, and Messi told him about his plan to leave the kids with her while he was training.

“¿Por qué ?”

“los chicos la adoraban. Quieren jugar con ella y Antonella quiere compañía.”

Of course, the kids had loved her, Neymar didn’t need to struggle to understand why they did. But now he had no good reason to see her and he couldn’t just drop off at her house. He didn’t understand why he liked being ‘bullied’ by her so much but he did, it was a quite challenge to get to know her.

“Neymar?” asked Messi from the other line, distracting him from his thoughts.

“Lo siento.” He said quickly apologizing.

“Neymar… ¿te gusta la actriz?” teased Messi, asking him the exact same thing Neymar had asked when he first saw Messi with Gabriella. He laughed and shook his head.

“No, creo que es irritante.” It wasn’t a complete lie; she was a bit annoying and entitled most times but he knew Messi would never really believe his words.

GABRIELLA’S RENTED APARTMENT

Maggie left the house about an hour after the kids arrived, she wasn’t a huge fan of their screaming. Gabriella played a lot of board games with them until they were too tired to go on and she put a movie on for them to watch, while she conversed with Antonella.

“don't get me wrong they are wonderful women- most of them at least but I spend with them every single day… Because of the games and the trips, it's always the same group. Sometimes you need different company. So, I am very happy you came and we met.”

The two of them sat on the balcony, drinking a glass of wine while they spoke.

“Please the pleasure is all mine.”

“Did you know I was a huge fan? When Messi told me about Graham Norton’s surprise, I was the one that pushed him to do it.”

“He told me and I am very grateful because meeting your Husband was very important for me.” She took a sip from her wine “He reminds me a lot of my father. I know its weird-“

“It’s not weird!” he reassured her reaching for her hand. Gabriella appreciated it and she smiled back at her.

“We’d watch his games together; my father would yell his name like he was a god.” Gabriella laughed, remembering.

“How did they die?” Asked Antonella, frowning her eyebrows. Gabriella’s eyes darkened; she knew she must have scared Antonella because she started apologizing but Gabriella shook her head to calm her down.

“No! Don’t worry, it’s fine, it was a long time ago. A car crash.”

Antonella sighed; Gabriella could see the pity in them but she didn’t mind as much because at least it was earnest. It was true. “How old were you?”

She hesitated, looked down “eight. I think it’s the worst age. You understand everything and nothing.”

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have asked- lets change the subject.” Antonella tapped her hands on the table, while Gabriella drank her entire drink all at ones. She nodded at the idea of changing the subject but just seconds later she regretted it. “Neymar was asking about you.”

She almost chocked on her wine, struggling to swallow what her friend had said. She hated that whatever was going on between her and Neymar had gone this far. Antonella patted her on the back while she coughed trying to breathe. “I didn’t think you’d care this much.” Antonella laughed and Gabriella raised her head “I don’t. I Absolutely don’t.”

“Sure.” Antonella smiled “well he was trying to see if you were gonna come by the house tonight again. He wanted to see you.”

“Why? All I’ve done is being rude to him- “

“I think he knows it’s a defense mechanism.” She smiled.

“It’s not and don’t tell him that it is because it will only encourage him!”

“Oh honey if Ney sets his eye on someone, he does not need encouragement.” She said, drinking her wine. Gabriella scoffed, looking at the view from her balcony, the people walking on the street.

“It’s not the right time.”

“Why not. You’re both single.”

She laughed at that “I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with someone like Neymar. You’re right maybe it is a defense mechanism because I know that it won’t be just a one-night stand with him… I’ll want more.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“My last relationship left me a little broken, I’m still picking up pieces. And a bad boy is not the right medicine.”

“Can I tell you a secret? I’ve known Neymar for 10 years and more. He’s not what the media is making him up to be… he’s a softie really. And if he only wanted a one-night stand, he wouldn’t be asking about you or following you- yes, I know about that too.”

“You really think me and him could be a thing?”

Antonella simply shrugged her shoulders and smiled. It was the answer Gabriella feared the most.

After the kids and her left the rest of the afternoon went by very quickly. She and Maggie watched a couple of movies and discussed about random things, avoiding the elephant in the room. When it was time for bed, she couldn’t sleep. She had thing heavy pain in her chest, caused by her anxiety. It was the possibility of her being into a guy again. For now, it was simply sexual, she barely knew so it couldn’t be anything more but it was different with him. In the last three years she hadn’t gotten into anything unless she was sure that she had the upper hand and with him she didn’t. He made her feel things she didn’t want to feel, like he would be able to make her do anything if she let him. Most of all he would be able to break her and she wasn’t prepared for that.

She got up from her bed and put on her usual black hoodie. She dressed in all black again and wore her white shoes. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep so she did what she always did when she was being tortured by her insomnia and she took a walk. Maybe not the smartest idea considering she was in a country she didn’t know but the neighborhood seemed safe enough. She only walked a few miles until she found herself outside of the Brazilian base. There was security all around and she knew that if she stayed too long, they would force her to leave. She stood still for a few minutes, looking at the flags hanging from the windows and imagining that Neymar was in one of them, wide awake or fast asleep. Perhaps she could text him, see what he was up to. Or She could reveal who she was and tell security to let her in- she was contemplating all these things and more when his whispers reached her ear, the wind getting warmer.

“Look whose here” he said, his lips barely touching her skin. Despite the jump scare, she didn’t react too crazy, maybe it was because his aura was captivating. All her fears were being confirmed just by a simple whisper. She didn’t turn to look at him, she kept her eyes on the flags.

“How did you know it was me?”

She regretted her question because he answered the same way that he had spoken to her before. A whisper in her eyes, lips stroking her ear, her heartbeat rising. “You got white paint on your sweater.” As he said it, he placed his hand on the right side of her back. Amazing how even over all the fabrics, his touch still had an influence on her heartbeat. “Wanna come upstairs?”

“No.” she answered quickly.

“Wanna go grab a drink?”

“Absolutely not”

“Then what are you doing here?” she tilted her head; she could finally see him. He also had hid his face covered by his hoodie. She shook her head.

“I was just taking a walk. The house is very close.”

“I know. You were the one that didn’t believe me.” He smiled “how about we continue this walk together?”

She turned her entire body to look at him, his hand moved from her back to her hip. She pushed it off her and looked in his eyes. “You’re really confident, has anyone every told you that?”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“I’m not gonna sleep with you Neymar.”

Neymar laughed and looked at her in shock. He raised up his hands in defeat “wow. Straight to the point I see.”

“I think you’re an asshole in and out of the field.” She crossed her arms and he nodded.

“noted.” He answered. Gabriella felt like she was being examined by the way he was staring in her eyes “Now how about that walk? Just so you can confirm whether that’s true or not.” He raised his hands again, smiling “promise I wont be naughty.” He made a step forward, pushing a loose strand of her behind her ear and under her hoodie. His fingers touching the red skin on her cheek “unless you want me to.”

“I’m fine” she answered quickly and slapped his hand off her. “I’m only agreeing to this because I know you’ll follow me anyway.” She said and turned to continue walking. Neymar followed right behind her, smiling.

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#imagines #football writing #football imagine #neymar #neymar x oc #neymar x reader #neymar imagines #neymar one shot #mbappe imagines

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