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purinfelix · 4 months

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white ferrari ˚⟡˖ ࣪

pairing: joao felix x reader summary: you don’t really know how to respond when a familiar face shows up at your apartment doorstep, one you haven’t seen in almost half a year since a fated summer of both love and heartbreak. warnings: just a lot of angst <//3 w/c: 2.7k

a/n: okay i tried my hand at angst once more because I've been feeling unreasonably sad about joao leaving barca ... (this is all inspired by a singular white ferrari x joao edit i saw on tiktok) - hope you all enjoy!!

Get home, throw your keys onto the counter top and listen to the echo they make throughout your empty apartment. Kick your shoes off, undress, shower and then stare at yourself in the mirror for a little too long. If you’re feeling up to it, fix yourself something decent to eat, but most nights you go straight to throwing yourself into bed and scrolling on your phone in the dark until you feel tired enough to sleep, whenever that may be.

Sure, it’s a bit of a boring routine - some might even argue it’s sad - but it’s one you’ve grown far too use to to change up now. You’re just about to get to the latter steps of said routine when you hear a knock at your door - a sound that, at this time of night especially, is unusual.

Tentatively, you approach the door and crack it open just enough to whisper scream at whatever idiot is bothering you at this hour. That is, of course, before you realise it’s him.

He’s gotten a little tanner than the last time you say him, but of course that was last summer now, a bright memory in your mind that seems so far away you struggle to believe that he’s really here, in front of you. His hair’s the same, a little messier and longer albeit, and you really wish you could just get a look at his face but he’s trying his best to avoid eye contact with you, and you can’t help but pick up on the air of shame he’s giving off.

“Do you have any idea what time it is, Joao?” you scoff quietly through the tiny crack in your door, but he doesn’t do anything other than offer a smile that is somehow equal parts sad and apologetic. Immediately you feel awful for trying to lighten the mood, but you can’t help it, as bittersweet as it is you’re actually stupidly excited to see him here.

That is, until you open the door wider for him and notice the luggages surrounding him, waiting to be dragged in - so you’re just another pit stop after all, he really hasn’t changed. You shut the door without mentioning it though, following him through the dark as he trudges in. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that you don’t need to tell him to take his shoes off at the door, where to put his bags, or even where your bedroom is. It’d almost be sweet, if thinking of all the times he’d been to your place before didn’t feel like twisting a knife through an already bled-dry wound.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’re here?” you call out, following him through the darkness, worry brewing in the pit of your stomach.

“Have you been keeping up with me?” he says, his voice soft as he finally turns around to face you, having made it to your bedroom.

“You mean, at your new club? Yeah, I’ve been trying to here and there, but I do have my own life after all,” you reply, desperate to make him understand that you’ve been trying to move on.

He offers an understanding nod before glancing around your room, “you got new bedsheets.”

“Yeah, quite a while ago actually but, I guess you wouldn’t have known.”

You’re still standing in the doorway of your bedroom, your arms folded over your chest, not really knowing why you suddenly feel so defensive at having him in your house, after so long of not seeing each other.

“Right,” he says, sitting at the edge of your bed a little awkwardly, as if it’s his first time doing so - and you both know it isn’t.

“Joao, what’s going o-”

“They’re letting me go,” he interrupts you, his eyes glued to the floor as he does.

“Wh- like the club? They’re not signing you again? But why? I thought you were doing well?” The questions pour out of your mouth before you realise it’s probably best not to pry, at least given the glimpse of his defeated expression you’re offered.

“I really wish I knew,” he sighs, “my old club is demanding a crazy amount of money for me though, so it might be that.”

Your heart softens a bit seeing him like this, and it suddenly occurs to you that perhaps the reason he came over tonight had less to do with the fact that he was seeing you and more with the fact he had to see someone. If you’re being honest, you know you should shrug and tell him ‘too bad’ and there’s a tiny part of you that wants to ask him why he never called after that one night, but you don’t.

Instead, you walk over to your bed, sit next to him and bring your hand up to cup his face. You let your thumb graze over it gently, trying to ignore the ache you feel in your heart when he looks up at you with such a gentleness in his eyes you feel like you might fall in love with him - again.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come over tonight, I just, wanted to see you,” he mumbles into the palm of your hand, and it’s only now you notice he’s leaning in closer.

“It’s okay, I’ve been wanting to see you too,” you hear yourself admit, and it’s not until the words leave your lips do you realise how much you actually mean them. Your hand moves to stroking his hair, and you can visibly see him melt under your touch.

It makes you think of all those nights the two of you spent together, and how they were a little over half a year ago now. When he was the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed new loan to one of Spain’s biggest football clubs that you met at a beachside bar one summer night. How he almost seemed to glow in the sunset when he walked you home, telling you about how he was fitting in with his new teammates, how much better this club was than his old one, how much happier he was. And how happy you were to just listen to him, watch his beaming smile and the adoration in his eyes, to get a taste of his life.

Because, a taste was really all you ever got. It’s not like you were expecting the two of you to get married and live happily ever after but it tugged at your heart whenever he would show up at your doorstep or happen to bump into you at the farmers market he always knew you went to. He would show up almost every second day, and love you like it was breathing, only to slink away the next morning with whispers of “Just don’t tell anyone,” and “You understand, right?”. Since he was a big footballer, and a younger one at that, he couldn’t have anything damaging his chances right now, which was why the two of you could only meet in privacy. You hated it, and the sour feeling it left in your gut every time you watched him close your apartment door at early hours of the morning, but it wasn’t like you had any other option than to believe him - since your only other choice was to lose him, and that was out of the question.

But still, you managed to mess it up - that one warm evening when the two of you were walking side by side along the beach, as you so often seemed to do. Walking close enough that people knew you were friendly, but far enough so that no one would suspect anything more. You can remember looking down at his arms, which he show proudly showed off by rolling up the sleeves of the button up he was wearing, and wanting nothing more than to hold his hand - if not for the physical contact, then to show everyone on this beach and beyond that he was yours. But you knew you couldn’t, so instead you resigned to asking slightly uncomfortable questions, all to make him think a little bit more about your relationship - and by extension, you.

“So,” you hummed, eyes looking down at the imprints of your feet in the sand, “do you think we’ll ever be like, a proper couple?” You cringe a little at how childish your wording sounds, but you’d be lying if you said you knew any other way to word it.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him glance up at you, a little taken aback by the suddenly confrontational question. “Uh, I thought we spoke about this,” he begins, and you immediately feel stupid for even asking, “I can’t really do relationships at the moment.”

“Well, we didn’t really speak about it, it was more you telling me, but I guess yeah,” you mumble, and you don’t know why you’re suddenly feeling so snarky about this.

“I mean, this is fun, right? What we’re doing now? I don’t really have any problem with it.”

Of course he doesn’t*.*

“Right, I mean I don’t really either,” you’re lying through your teeth at this point, “but I mean, wouldn’t it be nice to do all the things couples do?”

“Sure,” he quips, and you can tell he hasn’t even give this, or you, a second thought before.

“So don’t you think there’ll be a day when we actually get to, you know, hold hands and stuff?”

“Maybe,” he hums, and you don’t miss the nonchalant, almost bored, tone in his voice and how he isn’t even bothering to look at you. “You know, I’m just really busy with training and games now so.”

”Right, I get that, I mean once this summer’s over I’ll have to get on with things too,” you say, giving him exactly the response you know he’s expecting.

He turns to look at you finally, giving you a proud smile at your words. “Well, I’ve got to get going now,” he says abruptly.

“Oh, okay,” you utter, “Call me, alright?”

“Yeah, sure!” he calls out, but he’s already halfway up the beach and you’re sure he’s barely heard you. And you stood there for a while, watching him jog away, your heart sinking further with every step he took in the opposite direction.

And of course, he never did call - and you’d be lying if you said you were totally surprised. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, and all you were left with were those memories. Echoes of his laughter, the taste of his kisses, the ghost of his touch, all haunted your apartment which now felt hollow and empty. Of course, you managed to get on with it somehow, move past him and whatever had happened between you two.

And yet, here he was, again. You were still trying to shake the surprise that crept through you, but as you continued running your fingers through his hair in a soothing manner you can’t help but feel a sickening sense of deja vu. At seeing him here, at touching him like this, at him being here at all. Still, you think you could stay like this forever - but of course, you can’t and the heaviness in your heart urges you to break the silence before you do something you’re going to regret.

“So, what does this mean for you then?” It’s an awkward question, you can admit, and it shows on Joao’s face when he finally looks up at you - a little dazed and confused. You scoot a little bit away from him to lie down and he takes this as his sign to do the same.

“Hm? Oh, right,” he leans in a little closer as he lies down and for a split second you think he’s going to kiss you, but instead he just lays his head down on your chest as he continues to talk, “I guess I’ll have to go back to my old club, I mean I’ve got no choice.”

“Right,” you say curtly, caught off guard by the suddenly affectionate gesture - and what might be disappointment at the fact he didn’t kiss you. You don’t push him off though, instead you continue to stroke his hair, looking down at him as he talks.

“I just,” he sighs, “I just thought I was doing well you know?” You nod understandingly and you can hear the frustrated disappointment in his tone, one you recognise from the times he’d lost games before and come over to rant all about them.

“I’m sure you were amazing,” you try your best to reassure him, and it seems to work as he nods against your chest. There’s a beat of silence, you feel his breathing slow and it’s only then you realise how tired he is - from how slow his movements have been this entire evening. You’re about to give in and let him fall asleep on you, but it’s his turn to break the silence this time.

“Today was actually the last game of the season,” his words aren’t the clearest, and you can tell he’s basically half asleep, “the rest of the team wanted to go out to celebrate but I just couldn’t go. Seeing them all smiling and laughing while knowing they’ve got a place at that club next season while I don’t, I just couldn’t do it, you know?”

You wish you could tell him how much you understand that feeling, but instead you just hum in agreement.

“I wanted to see you instead,” and for about the billionth time that night you find yourself taken aback by his words. “I’m sorry I never called.”

“I really wish you had, I missed you,” you respond, a little weary of how honest you’re being suddenly. But he needs to hear this, needs to know how he made you feel when he suddenly disappeared after weeks of loving you like nothing else mattered.

That is of course, before you recognise the soft rising and falling of his chest - he’s fallen asleep. Your heart aches a little at the sight, and you let out a sigh when you realise you’ve got no choice other than to lay there, arms wrapped around him, until you fall asleep too. You reach over to switch off your singular lamp, drowning the two of you in darkness. Staring out your window at the cool evening sky, you think about how much has changed since the two of you last lay together like this. How with the changing of the seasons you two became such different people, and moved on to different parts of your lives - but through it all, your feelings for him never seemed to fade, and for the first time in months it felt like you were being gifted some reciprocity. You could only hope Joao had changed enough to not repeat his morning routines, slipping away and leaving you alone once more. But until then, you were content with this - this small moment, that might not have mattered at all in the grand scheme of things, but was enough for you and your aching heart. If nothing more, to lay here with him in the darkness, the rhythm of his soft breathing lulling you to sleep, was enough.

#joao felix #joão félix #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix oneshot #joao felix fic #fanfic #football #oneshot #fc barça #fc barcelona #purinfelix #angst fic #jet writes ★

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another-identityofmine · 9 months

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•••••••My Sweet Remedy••••••

Summary: It’s the second part of my piece, Crimson & Clover. Weeks after his little dirty moment, he’s found with the same ache again. With you by his side, he cautiously tries to relieve it himself. Only for you to wake up, and help him out.

Author’s note: Since everybody seemed to like it, and especially @60svintage who motivated and helped me out with this! So mwah and also big thank you to her. This is so random, but this has literaly been sitting in my drafts since last year. And I’ve got proof:

Author wont shut up just yet: so like literally guys…I’m sorry 😭. I also noted that he was a leg and ass man, SO I WENT ALL OUT WITH THIS. I’ve also haven’t really seen like doing stuff with thighs or legs sexually around tumblr so here we are. It’s definitely not gonna be as popular or good as the first version, but when I say I’m gon write a second part. I’m gon write it. You guys also gon be really surprised but I was listening to this while writing this 😭👀

But uhhh anyway, let’s enjoy this feast. Shall we?

warnings: masturbating, reader watches elvis a widdle bit, thigh fucking, thoughts about ass licking, spitting, rubbing on clit with cock tip…yippee kiyay folks. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Ever since that embarrassing night, where his parents and you had woken up from him jerking off too loudly, he hasn’t tried anything. But did he regret it? Not for a minute.

He turns his head as his hand continues to bob and pump his cock fast and raw. As his cock strains and hardens more and more as every second goes pass and the veiny hand that’s wrapped around his shaft, he can help the groans that push outta those lips.

His eyes flutter close to just imagine her delicious swell of an ass. He’s surprised at what his kind wanders off to. He’s always been a guy for ass but what he wishes his tongue to do startles the man a bit.

He thinks pressing his warm tongue onto that little untouched hole. The hole that’s covered and protected by them precious ass cheeks.

To just graze his tip against your clenched, pink little ass hole. Just once. And to cum on that pretty soft squishy belly of yours.

He whimpers softly, pressing two of his long fingers to shut his lips before making further noises. With only you and him in the house, he’s not too worried. But you were overly tired before you tucked into bed, so he doesn’t wanna wake you.

Yup, and that’s exactly what he did. Your body shifts slightly and groans groggily from sleep. Blinking your eyes a little bit, you gasp softly at the sight beside you.

Your eyes travel from his tanned feet, gliding up to see his blue and white striped pajama pants that’s halfway down his thick, firm and tense thighs. Your eyes widen when you see his hand working up and down his red and slightly pink cock, that has his arousal dribbling down his fist. Continuing your eyes up to see his shirt half unbuttoned from the bottom and revealing his sweaty damp and heaving lower belly. His happy trail that’s dark and a thin line from his itty bitty belly button to the pubic curls that surrounds his manhood and is where his wrist lays.

When Elvis finally stops his fist and huffs in frustration at the tiring handy work, he’s upset that he hasn’t cum yet. He can feel it bubbling up in the pit of that tan and decorated of dark locks belly of his, but it just ain’t doing it. He sighs in tiresome and leans his head back, gasping in shock as he sees the fluttering of your long lashes batting up to meet his blue eyes.

“Baby, w-what. H-how long have you been awake?” He furrows his eyebrows and wipes his sweaty palms on his chest and doesn’t bother to cover himself. You shrug and hum a soft yawn. “Just now…E, if you wanted to have fun tonight, how come you didn’t wake me?” You whisper and raise a brow. He shrugs and bites his lip, “I jus’ didn’t wanna. You were tired as it is.” He admits and sighs out.

You smile at his love and care, but you look back down at his throbbing manhood that wags pathetically. His tip grazes onto his heaving belly with every shallow breath he takes. “Well now I’m up and awake, c’mon now, let me help you relieve your ache. Like a good woman as I should.”

The moment you share smirks before you know it, his heavy length rests on your pubic mound. With your cute little white dress up to your perky breasts, he puckers his lips and tilts his chin down. You feel warm, glossy strings of his saliva run down your pussy lips. Dampening and wetting your inner thighs also to lubricant his near future thrusts.

With heavy pants and sighs, he takes a firm hold of his cock and presses gently to your sensitive nub. Tapping on it gently with a soft smirk at how your legs twitch slightly and your pussy pulses in his glistening spit.

Deciding to add onto the mess, he dribbled more spit of his touchy tip as he produces pre cum. Your intimate parts are a shiny mess. Pulling back his foreskin, he’s quick to slap your thighs together with his thick cock between.

His eyes roll to the back of his head at just the way his shaft sits so perfectly between your delicious thick thighs. He starts to thrust, hanging your calves to his shoulders.

He doesn’t leave you hanging of course, as he presses a small kiss to your ankle and then brings his lips to his finger and spits on it. Snaking his hand down to play and rub tight and fast circles on your clit. You body bounces up and down the matress with every thrust he makes. Soft whimpers leave your lips, until he can’t take it. Moving his hand from your clit to squeeze your thighs together and dig his nails into your soft skin. You watch as his tip peeks from between your sweet thighs, and chaff against your wiry, curly dark pubic hair.

One final hard thrust finishes him off, twitching uncontrollably as hot strings of his white cream coat your tummy. His eyes shut and he lets out a high-pitched moan, biting into your calf because the pleasure is just too much. But he loves it.

You forget about your own pleasure for now, watching him unravel at your body and touch.

Pulling back and glancing down at the glorious sight below him. Your belly has him on your skin, your legs bare and spread. He smirks a lazy one, and hums. Kneading the fat of your thigh with a pleasure sigh.

“My sweet sweet remedy, ain’t ya? Now, now, you know I won’t leave my baby hanging dry after that. Tsk, c’mon lemme treat ya.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I hope enjoyed! I ain’t tryna make another part with my 15+ requests and shits in my drafts but I could! Anyway, chow y’all 🤪🥰

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis x y/n #elvis imagine #elvisaaronpresley #spotify #elvis fanfic #enjoy!#elvis Presley smut #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfiction #70s Elvis #elvis smut #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x you #elvis presley x reader smut #elvis x reader smut

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bandedbulbussnarfblat · 1 year

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Damn Your Love, Damn Your Lies, chp 7

here on ao3, or read it below

Rashid falls asleep with his head on Daniel’s chest, Daniel’s fingers stroking through his curls. He looks so pretty Daniel can’t bring himself to wake him. It’s fine; he can spend the night again. Daniel doesn’t mind.

Of course, Daniel knows he’s just making it harder on himself when he has to leave. The last thing he needs is to get attached. Especially since this is only a brief vacation from heterosexuality. Once he leaves, he’s back to his old life.

The thought causes a gnawing pit in his stomach. He tries not to linger on it, preferring to think of the book he’ll write about this interview instead. It’s with those thoughts that he slips into sleep.

When he opens his eyes, he’s on a boat. It’s daylight, and the ocean around them is a crystal clear blue. He can see sandy shores in the distance. At the helm of the boat is Armand, wearing swim trunks and sunglasses and nothing else. Daniel doesn’t let his eyes stray, though he is sorely tempted.

“Night Island, huh?” he says, looking toward the coast.

“It was our home, wasn’t it?” Armand pushes up the sunglasses and reveals his fiery eyes.

Daniel sighs. “Why am I here?”

Armand studies him for a moment. “I missed you, Daniel.”

“You’re literally on top of me right now.”

Armand sighs. “That’s Rashid, not me.”

“It’s as close as you’re going to get.”

Armand narrows his eyes. “Are you still fighting the inevitable, my love? You belong with me.”

He probably means belongs to him, not with him

“I think I prefer Rashid,” Daniel snips. He wants off this damn boat and out of this dream.

Armand’s eyes go dark. “I look forward to reminding you who is in charge, lover.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, you’re bleeding through. Rashid will have me in chains by the end of the week.”

Armand smirks. “Would you like that, Daniel?”

Something warm twists in Daniel’s gut and he crosses his arms over his chest. “Probably, since I don’t know he’s you.”

Armand’s head tilts. “I have a theory about that. Would you like to hear it?”

“Not really.”

Armand continues like he hasn’t spoken. “I think you do know it’s me. Subconsciously, you know who I am and it’s why you want me.”

“Sounds like horseshit to me.”

Armand smiles. “You know I’m right.”

“Let me off the boat. I don’t think you, me, and your ego can all fit.”

Armand chuckles. “I’ve missed your sass, Daniel. You always were so impertinent.”

Daniel lets out a heavy sigh. There’s no point in arguing with Armand if he’s decided not to fight. Of course, Daniel does know all the ways to provoke him. But it hardly seems worth the effort. He’d rather just walk away.

“I’d like to wake up now,” he says, glaring at Armand.

“As you wish.”

Daniel jerks awake and Rashid blinks up at him. His head is nestled against the hair on Daniel’s chest and his eyes are sleepy. “Shit, sorry. Go back to sleep, baby.”

Rashid leans up and kisses along Daniel’s jaw to his ear. “I’d rather stay up.”

His hand slides into Daniel’s boxers and grips him tight. Daniel feels himself growing hard. Fucking hell. He hasn’t been able to get it up like this in the last decade.

Daniel slips a hand down to squeeze Rashid’s ass. It’s a perfect ass, really. Unfair that the universe had taken this long to put it in his path. He could’ve devoted himself to this.

“You are fucking perfect, you know that?”

Rashid kisses him, heady and deep. Daniel’s hands bury in his hair and hold him close. The next thing he knows, Rashid’s hand is gone and he’s sinking down onto Daniel’s cock.

They don’t get to sleep for a while after that.

Daniel is alone when he wakes.

It shouldn’t bother him–Rashid has to get to work, after all. And he probably doesn’t want Louis finding out. It still stings a little though.

Daniel gets dressed and deals with shit like emails and phone calls with questions he can’t answer. “It’s not an article, it’s a book. I mean, we can do a chapter in Vanity Fair, but-”

He sees Rashid coming toward the balcony and tries not to let himself be distracted. “I know it’s been ten years. I haven’t forgotten what a book is. This is a book. A-Alright? Look, um…I gotta call you back. Yeah, I’ll call you back.”

Daniel isn’t calling back.

He hangs up and gives his attention to Rashid. He’s something, in that low cut shirt. And there’s still hickeys visible. Daniel kinda likes it, the idea of everyone able to see his mark on Rashid.

“Good morning,” Rashid says politely, then his smile turns devious. “I hope you’ve passed a comfortable night.”

“Didn’t get much sleep.”

“How unfortunate.”

“I’m not complaining,” Daniel says, then “Fuck, come here.”

He can’t not kiss him when he looks so pretty.

Rashid steps forward and Daniel drags him in by the shirt and moves to kiss him. Rashid pulls back just out of reach. “You were scheduled to have your levodopa transfusion this week.”

“Been tapping my phone?” Daniel says, trying to hold the thread of irritation it brings to have his privacy invaded in such a way. Rashid kills it with a soft press of his lips, there and gone.

“Mr. de Pointe du Lac has arranged a physician to administer it here tomorrow.”

Daniel sighs and steps back. “Well, I’ll take care of it on my own.”

“Your doctor in New York was consulted and has given consent,” Rashid says and sidles back up to him. He moves them back until Daniel is against the railing, then mouths over his neck. “You’ll find a note from him in your electronic mailbox.”

Daniel would tease him for saying ‘electronic mailbox’, but he sucks over his pulse point and it throbs straight to his dick. His arms slide around Rashid’s waist and his hands find his ass. “Where’s Louis?” He’d hate for Louis to walk in on this.

“Mr. de Pointe du Lac will be resting today.”

Daniel should be thinking about his work, but all he can think about is Rashid’s mouth, warm on his throat. He jerks Rashid’s head back and meets his gaze. “Then I’m taking you back to bed.”

“Whatever you’d like, Mr. Molloy.”

#iwtv fic

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johnsbleu · 2 years

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Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 143

warnings: a nsfw moment near the end, dual pov hmh masterlist

After a few days of Ronan’s anxiety not being so bad, you thought that she was starting to get over it a little. Boy, did you get that wrong. You tried to go to the store alone--you just want some damn alone time--but she screamed and cried when you walked to the door. In the end, John had to go for you.

At first it was sweet. It seemed like Ronan just wanted the three of you to be together. She even allowed John to take her so you could just have a damn shower alone, but it was short lived. It was back to only wanting mom. John was a little offended. He suddenly seemed to just stop caring and didn’t even bother to help out when she was crying since he knew there was nothing that he could do.

But in all honesty, it’s really pissed you off.

Something happened at the shop; you’re not sure what since John hasn’t bothered to explain it to you. You went down there to see if there was something to do or some way that you could help, but John doesn’t even seem like he wants you here. You asked if you could just leave Ronan with him for a bit while you get a few things done (and get some fucking alone time) but he’s dismissing you.

“John, I’m just--”

“I’m sorry, I really can’t deal with this right now.” he barely gives you a glance, “I have to deal with the shop and figure out what is going on. I just can’t deal with this right now.”

You let out a small scoff, “I’m just asking you to watch Ro for an hour. John, I’m exhausted. I can’t shower without her in the bathroom with me. I need some fucking alone time.”

“And I get that, but I can’t deal with that right now.”

“You can’t deal with your daughter?”

John finally looks at you, “That’s not what I meant and you know it. If I don’t get this stuff figured out, we’re going to lose a lot of money.”

“And I get that,” you say, echoing him. “But if you don’t at least take her, I’m going to have a fucking breakdown. I’m fucking exhausted.”

John sighs as he looks at the laptop and papers on the desk, and you realize he’s completely ignoring you now in hopes that you’ll just walk away.

“Fine,” you throw your hands up and walk to the door, “I’ll just figure it out myself.”

“It’s not like she cares anyway.” he says, and you turn to look at him, “She doesn’t care that I’m not there anyway.”

You furrow your brow, “She’s a baby.”

“Yeah,” he nods, still looking at the papers, “But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t want me. She only wants you.”

“And you know how fucking exhausting that is for me? I have to get up seven times in the night to deal with it and I get no sleep. I can’t sleep during the day because she needs me to be around, I can’t nap when she does because I have to cook, do laundry, clean. I can’t have a fucking moment to myself!” you say as you tear up, “I’m so fucking tired and I’m tired of feeling like I’m doing everything myself.”

John finally looks at you, “That’s how you feel?”

“Yes! That is how I feel, especially this past week.”

“I’ve been dealing with this!” he says, standing up from the desk and gesturing, “I never should have bought this damn place!”

You scoff and look at him dead in the eyes, “You’re such a fucking asshole.”

“Yeah, I am.”

You sniffle, then you sigh and shrug, “I came to you because I thought you’d make me feel better--as you’ve done before, but clearly I was wrong.”

“Yeah.” John holds your gaze and sits back down at the desk.

You wipe the tears off your face and sniffle, then you shake your head and look at John, hoping and praying he’ll just apologize, that he’ll say he’s so sorry for getting upset, that he’ll rush over to you and pepper your face in kisses and just hold you and tell you everything will be okay, that he’ll fix everything. He keeps his gaze firmly set on the laptop and doesn’t look at you at all, so you turn to leave.

“You know, for the first time in our marriage, I feel so fucking completely ignored. I feel like my needs aren’t being met and you don’t even care. Don’t be surprised when you get home if Ronan and I aren’t there.” you say, and John lets out a small noise from his mouth, like he’s dismissing you.

Consider yourself dismissed.

There’s something so relaxing about an aquarium, just watching the fish swim around while soft music plays and the lights dimmed. Maybe that’s why you chose to take Ronan here instead of sitting at home--instead of having another fight with John like you have for the past few days now.

It’s the middle of the day during the week, so the aquarium is pretty empty other than some parents who brought their kids here as well. You’re behind all of those families and taking your time to walk through it. Mostly because the longer it takes to get through, the longer you can stay away and not go home. Who knows, after this you might even go to the mall for some shopping.

Obviously marriages have their up and downs, and you and John aren’t perfect but you thought the two of you were on the same page when it comes to this issue with Ronan. You get that he’s stressed out with the shop--not that you even know what happened since he didn’t tell you--but he’s never been this…dismissive of you.

You actually hate how understanding you are, because right now, you want to run to him and help him figure things out. Even after he was so dismissive. Even after he was a pretty big asshole to you. You know deep down he didn’t mean anything he said. He’s a good man. You’re still mad at him, but you have to admit that he’s a good man.

“I disgust myself sometimes, Miss Ro.” you say as you hold her in your lap, “I love your dad a lot but he was kind of a d-i-c-k to me. I know he’s probably stressed out but he shouldn’t take it out on me. I suppose just like I shouldn’t take it out on him but I just…I need some time alone.”

Ronan kicks her legs and babbles to herself, and you kiss the top of her head.

“You know, Grammy and I used to have lots of mommy daughter days,” you whisper to Ronan, “That was before Aunt Tess came to live with us. I was pretty much glued to Grammy’s side back then. I was a momma’s girl, just like you but I bet that does make daddy feel like he’s not important. I didn’t grow up with a dad, so that didn’t matter to me, but your dad…he’s kind of great. He’s a really great daddy.”

You close your eyes and hug tight to Ronan to keep yourself from crying, and she babbles loudly, her voice echoing in the little cave you’re in. You sniffle and smile when she looks at you, then you kiss the top of her head and gather up your things when you hear some people coming.

John wasn’t home when you arrived, so you got Ronan bathed and in her pajamas. Since he’s not home and you’re tired and don’t want to fight, you decided to sleep in the guest bedroom again. Ronan is sleeping beside you in her pack ‘n play, and you’re reading a book.

It’s nearly midnight by now, but John still isn’t home. Part of you is getting really worried. He never stays out this late but he hasn’t texted you. You opened your message with him earlier and saw a text bubble like he was typing, but it stopped and disappeared shortly after, so you don’t know what’s going on with him. You grab your phone to see if he’s typing again, but he’s not. He’s so damn stubborn. So are you though.

You close your book and set it aside, then you put your phone on the nightstand and turn off the light. After a few seconds of staring into the darkness, you roll over and grab your phone, then you hold it tight to your chest and pray he calls soon.

Walking into the kitchen, you see John sitting at the table as he reads the newspaper. He never called you last night, but he obviously came home at some point and went to bed. He glances over the top of the paper at you and catches your eye, but you turn your back to him to get a bottle started for Ronan.

“Ronan up?”

“Living room,” you barely look over your shoulder, then you get Ronan’s bottle.

John sighs loudly and shakes the newspaper out, “Still not talking to me?”

“Nope.”

When you woke up, you thought you were ready to finally settle this and talk it out, but he’s not even apologizing for being such an asshole. Plus you’re still pretty upset. You don’t want to talk to him when you’re still upset and make things worse.

“Well, I’m ready to--”

“I’m not!” you turn around and look at him, “I’m not ready! I’m pissed, John.”

John nods, “I know you are--”

“No! You don’t fucking understand. I am so goddamn mad at you.” you say, and he looks across the kitchen at you. You lower your voice a little since Ronan is just around the corner in the living room, “I’m mad. Let me be mad. I let you be mad, now let me.”

“Fine.”

You inhale shakily as you look at him, “I’m going to feed her, then I’m taking her for the day.”

“Now I can’t even spend time with you two?” he stands up and furrows his brow.

You scoff and let out a small laugh, “Now you want to spend time with us? Now you want to take care of her?”

“That is not fair and you know it.” he says, and you shrug, “I’ve been busy.”

“You said yourself that she doesn’t even care if you’re there.”

John looks a little hurt as he takes a step closer, “I don’t know why I said that.”

You don’t know why you even reminded him of that since you know that it just hurt his feelings. It was a cheap shot, you know that.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize for it, and he nods gratefully. “I’m sorry I said that. But look, I’m upset. I’m too upset with you to be…here. I just need time.”

“Then leave Ro with me.”

You shake your head as you grab the bottle for her, “It’s fine. We’ll go do something and be home tonight.”

“And you’ll be ready to talk then?”

“Maybe,” you whisper as he walks closer. You put your hand up to stop him because you know the second he touches you, you’ll just fall into his arms and forget all about this damn fight.

John sighs, “Just…let me at least kiss you.”

You tear up as you nod, and he hugs you and kisses your forehead twice before kissing your cheek and pressing his lips to yours softly.

“You know I always love you,” he whispers, and you nod.

“I’m still mad,” you say as you back away from him, and you mean it and he knows it. “I’m still really mad at you.”

John nods, “I know, sweetheart.”

You nod as a tear slides down your cheek, and you quickly wipe it away, “But I always love you too.”

I wasn’t expecting to get a call that a pipe burst and that the heat went out at the shop, but that’s how my day started. It only got worse when I got into a fight with Y/N. With no heat, we couldn’t really open the shop and allow customers to come in. I called to get it fixed, but when the guy got out to the shop to check it out, of course it was a rare piece that he’d have to order. It’ll take a week or more to get that piece in. Then the pipe burst. Y/N doesn’t know about that, and I’m honestly a little hesitant to tell her. She’ll be devastated to know how many books were ruined and how the floor will definitely need to be replaced.

We’ve barely spoken for three days now and every time I do try to talk to her, we end up getting into a fight. We talked for a few minutes in the kitchen this morning, but she wasn’t ready. I get it. I upset her and she has every right to take her time to process it all. She has every right to still be mad at me. We’ve already said some harsh things to one another that we definitely don’t mean, and all I want right now is for this to just be over so I can have her back by my side. I need her. And I need her help. I need her to tell me what to do.

I also really miss my daughter. I miss playing with her and hearing her laugh. I know Y/N isn’t keeping her from me by any means, but I did say that Ronan doesn’t care if I’m there or not. That’s not true. I know Ronan loves me. I know Y/N does too. And I love them both more than anything in this world.

I put my head in my hands and exhale, then I look up when I hear a knock on the office door. Jimmy holds up some food, and I nod my head.

“Now look, I usually don’t point out the obvious…” Jimmy says, and I raise my brows as he drops the bag on my desk and reaches in for a taco, “But you look like shit.”

“Yeah,” I let out a small laugh, “Uh, me and Y/N have been fighting for a few days but it really escalated yesterday.”

Jimmy lets out a big breath as he sits down on the chair in front of the desk, “What about?”

“Well, I had all this shit happen here--she doesn’t even know.” I say, and Jimmy widens his eyes, “I don’t want to stress her out. She’s already stressed out enough with what’s going on with Ro.”

“Dude, she’s your wife! You gotta tell her!”

I sigh loudly, “I know. And honestly, I know she’ll come down here and figure it all out. I know she will. That’s just who she is. She’ll have a solution for every single problem I’m having.”

Jimmy talks around a mouthful of taco, “You gotta apologize, man. Grovel, even. You gotta.”

“I said some pretty harsh shit.”

“On your knees.” he says, nodding his head, “You gotta beg. You’re lucky she hasn’t packed up and left you.”

I let out a small laugh, “Trust me, I know.”

“Nah, she wouldn’t do that. You two have a good marriage, but man, what the hell? Fix it!”

“Doesn’t matter that you’re my best friend, you’re still going to take her side.”

Jimmy laughs, “Because you’re in the wrong! I call it like I see it. Dude, you fucked up!”

“I know,” I nod my head, “You’re right.”

“Listen, it’s not like Tess and I don’t fight. We do. We absolutely do. No marriage is 100% perfect. You said some shit you didn’t mean, she probably did too, now you just have to put your egos aside and go talk to each other and apologize. She loves you and you love her.” he says, and I nod my head, “You have a beautiful life together, a beautiful daughter. I know you two, I know you’re not going to throw away a marriage because of something like this. In a week or two, you’ll look back and wonder why the fuck you even got into a fight in the first place when in reality you two just really need one another right now, because admit it, you really need your wife and she really needs you.”

I furrow my brow as I look at him, “Why does all of that sound so familiar?”

Jimmy takes a bite of his taco and looks at me, “Because your wife said it to me when Tess and I got into a fight.”

I laugh quietly, “Of course.”

“She’s smart, man.” he says, and I nod my head, “So go fucking apologize.”

I get home a little later than I’d hoped, but at least I’m not too late for dinner. I’m not expecting dinner to be on the table. Honestly I’d be an idiot to think it’d be there after fighting for the past few days. I wouldn’t expect her to be setting the table with a roasted chicken dinner for me, especially not after I’ve been such an ass to her.

As soon as I open the door, I hear Y/N laughing and water splashing--Ronan is in the bath. I drop my stuff on the coffee table, then I walk over to the bathroom and lean against the door frame. Y/N is laughing as she looks up at me, but the smile quickly fades.

“Hey.”

She clears her throat and nods, “Hi.”

“You two eat dinner yet?” I ask, and she shakes her head.

“Well, she did earlier, but we were playing with some paints and Ro got a little messy.”

I smile as I walk over and see Ronan in the bathtub full of bubble as she kicks her legs, “Hi, bug.”

Ronan looks up at me and waves her arm around, then she kicks the water wildly. I lean down to kiss the top of her head, then I kiss Y/N’s.

“Is it okay if I just order us something?” I ask, and Y/N nods her head as she looks at me.

Y/N gives me a weak smile as she nods, then she turns her attention back to Ronan. I head to the kitchen and grab out a few menus that we keep tucked in the drawer, then I lean over and look at them, wondering what she’s in the mood to eat. I end up just ordering some food from a restaurant in Oyster Bay; a burger for myself and some barbecue chicken wings for Y/N and other appetizers.

I hear her taking Ronan up to her room, so I just grab Bleu’s leash and decide to take him for a short walk.

I got back from taking Bleu for a walk just in time for the food to be delivered. I brought it all inside and set it on the kitchen table, then I wait for Y/N to come down. After about ten minutes of waiting, I go up to find her rocking Ronan to sleep.

“You coming down to eat?”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” she whispers, and I nod my head.

I make my way back down to the kitchen and sit down at the table, then I wait a few minutes before she comes down. She perks up when she sees the food on the table, then she comes over and sits down. Knowing her, she probably hasn’t eaten all day.

“I got you some wings,” I say as I open a food container, “And I got you some of that artichoke dip that you like.”

“Thanks,” she says softly. She takes a chip and scoops it into the dip, then she nods her head and opens the other container with wings.

I take a bite of my burger as we eat in silence for a few minutes, then I glance over at her as she props her head on her face and plays with her a little before taking a bite.

I know I need to talk to her. This silent anger we’re both sitting on isn’t helping. I’m not angry anymore, but I’m sure she’s mad at me--I don’t blame her for that. We just need to talk and fix things. The house doesn’t feel the same, and Ronan doesn’t deserve to be stuck in between this little spat between me and her mother.

Taking a deep breath, I look over at her to say something but I stop when she looks at me.

“You’ve been a real ass, you know that?” she says, and I nod my head. “You didn’t need to be such a dick to me the other day and now it’s snowballed and gotten worse.”

“You’re not even sleeping in our room, I’m aware that it’s gotten worse.” I say softly, “And I’m aware of what an asshole I was to you.”

Y/N sighs as she puts her fork down, “I was just asking for a little time to myself.”

“I know,” I reach over for her hand, “I know. It’s just…the shop--everything was going wrong there and then you leaving Ro with me would mean she would just cry the whole time since you’d be gone. She hates me.”

“She does not hate you, John.” she tears up and shakes her head, “You’re her dad! She doesn’t hate you. See how excited she was to see you when you got home? She loves you!”

I exhale loudly, looking at her, “That’s not the point right now. The point is what an ass I was to you. You didn’t deserve that. You’ve been so overwhelmed and stressed out with Ronan lately. I should have been more considerate.”

“Well…” she looks down before she looks at me and chuckles, “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. I apologize that I made you feel like your needs weren’t being met. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t being heard. I’m sorry for ignoring you.” I say, and her eyes soften, “You know that you are the most important person in my life; I know you know this. But I failed lately and I sincerely apologize. I fucked up, I can admit that.”

Y/N holds my gaze and nods, “Thank you.”

I take her hand and press a kiss to it, then I shake my head, “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Thank you.” she whispers, then she tears up, “I thought you hated me.”

I move my chair back and tug her hand to get her to come sit in my lap, then I wrap my arms around her as she cries. I tuck her head into the crook of my neck and hold her tight, and I inhale the smell of her perfume. I’ve missed it.

“I could never hate you,” I whisper to her, and she sits up to reveal her face wet with tears. I wipe them away and look into her bloodshot eyes, “I could never, peach. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

She sniffles, “Did you and Helen fight like this?”

“Yeah, we did. You know why?” I say, and she raises her brows, “Because no marriage is perfect and people fight.”

Y/N cups my face and blinks, a tear rolling down her cheek, “This shit with Ronan is just so stressful and I’m so goddamn tired.”

“I know,” I lean up to kiss her cheek, “And I promise that I can take her and let you have some alone time.”

She smiles, “I just wanna shower alone and be able to go to the bathroom without her looking at me.”

“Yeah, that can’t be fun.” I say, and she laughs weakly like she hasn’t slept in days, which to be fair I don’t think either of us has. “I can take her and let you have the day to yourself.”

“Thank you.” she leans her forehead against mine.

I press my lips to her forehead and sigh, “You’re not still mad at me, are you?”

“I’m too tired.” she says, and I laugh. “I’m so exhausted, John.”

“I know,” I cradle her in my arms and look down at her, “Let’s get some food in you and get you to bed then.”

Y/N cups my face and holds my gaze, “I love you.”

“I love you so much more,” I whisper, then I lean down to kiss her. I hum and press my lips to hers a few times, then I look at her, “I’m so sorry. I thought you’d be a lot harder on me.”

“If I wasn’t so tired, yeah, I’d probably have yelled at you but what would that accomplish?” she says as we laugh, then she shrugs, “I don’t want to fight. I just want some alone time.”

I nod my head, “I get that.”

I still haven’t told her about the shop but that can wait until the morning. Right now all I care about is getting some food in her and getting her to bed. She deserves some rest. I can handle Ronan.

Y/N gets up and sits down in her chair, then she moves it closer and holds my hand as we eat. I hold up my burger so she can take a bite, then she feeds me a chicken wing.

“Fill me in on what’s been going on.” I say, hoping she doesn’t ask me to do the same, “What have you and Bug been up to?”

“Well,” she takes a deep breath and looks at me, and I smile as she holds tight to my hand and tells me what she’s been doing.

I don’t know what it is but Ronan has been in a great mood this morning, which is great for me! Y/N slept in, got to take a shower alone, then she went out and did some stuff on her own. She texted me that she’d be home soon, so I’m getting the house picked up now that Ronan is down for a nap. Thankfully it’s not too bad.

After throwing in some laundry, I grab the basket of clothes and sit on the couch to fold them. I smile when I hold up a pair of little leggings and laugh as I fold them up. Baby clothes are so cute. I put all of Ronan’s clothes aside, then I dig deeper and pull out some underwear. I never know how to fold Y/N’s underwear and she always laughs. I just set them aside since I’m not sure how to fold them and move on to folding up some jeans.

I look up when I see Y/N pulling into the driveway, and I get up and walk into the kitchen to greet her, “Hey.”

“Hi!” she smiles as she closes the door behind her, “How is she?”

“Down for a nap.” I say, and she exhales in relief. “She’s been really good today. Only really got fussy when I tried to wipe her face off after she ate some food.”

Y/N laughs, “Yeah, she does that.”

“She did cry a little before she went down for her nap, but she was just tired,” I say, then I walk over to hug her. Y/N immediately starts to laugh, and I stop and furrow my brow, “What?”

“Are you saving those for later?”

I furrow my brow more and look around, “Saving what?”

Y/N reaches forward and pulls the lacy underwear off of me. They must have gotten stuck on my belt. She holds them up and laughs, and I playfully shrug.

“I was doing laundry.”

“Ooh, and he does laundry! I’m a lucky gal.” she teases as I laugh. She wraps her arms around my waist and smiles at me, “I had a really good day.”

I smooth her hair back and lean down to kiss her, “I’m glad you did. You should do that more often. Ro was fine with me today.”

“Well, I’ll admit…” she looks into my eyes and laughs, “I miss the shit out of you.”

“I miss the shit out of you too.” I lean down and kiss her a few times, then I wrap my arm around her shoulder and lead her into the living room.

Y/N takes off her jacket and tosses it over the back of the chair, then she walks over and plops down on the couch next to me, curling up in my arms. I kiss her forehead and close my eyes, and I rub her arm a little when she shivers.

“So,” she finally looks up at me and sits up, “What’s going on at the shop?”

I let out a small laugh, “I was hoping you’d forget about that.”

“Yeah, no.” she laughs.

“Well, it’s closed today anyway, but…” I inhale deeply and shake my head, “It will probably need to be closed for the next week or so. The heat is out and the piece won’t be in for a few days.”

Y/N scrunches her face, “Well, that’s sucky.”

“Oh, and, uh…” I take a deep breath and prepare myself for how hurt she’s going to be, “A pipe burst and ruined the floor and some books.”

“What?” she widens her eyes, “John! Why didn’t you tell me?”

I laugh quietly, “I knew you’d be upset.”

“And this is why you were so stressed out?” she asks, and I nod.

I sigh, “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Is the damage really bad?” she asks, and I grimace. She puts her head down as she tears up, “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

She sniffles, “I’m the reason you bought the shop.”

“Hey,” I pull her closer to me, “I didn’t mean what I said; I love owning the shop with you. I was just mad. I love the shop. Obviously it’s not ideal when this shit happens, but it happens and we have insurance. We’ll get it fixed and it’ll be open by next week.”

“Are we really going to lose a lot of money?”

I shrug, “Not worried about it--that’s not why we have the shop. It’ll be fine. The employees will be happy to have a week off.”

“Well, we could get some heaters and maybe even open the shop and serve hot chocolate. I’m sure some people will still want to stop in for a book. That way we don’t have to be closed for a week. We could put a sign out, and you and I could work. And we can get Jimmy to fix the floor.”

I look at her and smile, “That’s a good idea. I’ll call him later. I’m sure he’ll be up for helping. He’ll know what he’s doing too.”

“Plus he’ll do it for cheap.” she says, and I laugh. “Can I come help when he fixes the floor?”

I smile as I lean over to kiss her, “Of course you can. Might want to leave Ro with your mom though.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

It’s pretty cold in the shop without the heat, but Jimmy got some heaters set up. We’re going to get the floor fixed before we let any customers in, so we decided to do that before we’re open on Monday. Y/N is wearing my coat with some gloves and a hat, and she’s holding a large cup of hot chocolate. Meanwhile I’m fucking sweating now since we’re fixing the floor.

“So,” Jimmy looks over at Y/N, “I heard John was being a dick the other day.”

Y/N furrows her brow, “From who?”

“From the man himself.” he says, and she laughs.

“Yeah, he wasn’t on his best behavior.” she winks, and I smile at her. “But he apologized and we worked things out. He took Ro so I could have a day to myself, and that was really nice.”

I look over at her, “I was a dick, I’ll admit it. Thank god she forgave me.”

“That’s marriage, am I right? The amount of times Tess has forgiven me is astounding.” Jimmy says, and Y/N laughs, “But that’s what a marriage is. You work through your issues together and find a solution.”

Y/N tilts her glass up in cheers, then she takes a sip, “So, you grovel when Tess is mad at you?”

“Like you wouldn’t fucking believe,” he says, and we laugh. “Nah, she’s gotten a lot better. We both have since we’ve been married. We’ve figured out what works for us, just like you two have.”

I look over at Y/N and smile at her, “Marrying a forgiving woman is a start.”

“Well, I forgave you because you apologized.” she says, walking over to sit closer to a heater. “It’s not like I just forgave you for nothing. You’re good at admitting when you’re wrong and apologizing. I’m lucky that I married someone who actually realizes that I have feelings and wants to make up for it when he hurts them.”

I reach over and rub her thigh, “Because I love you.”

“I love you!” she says, leaning over to kiss me.

“Yeah, Tess is right,” Jimmy says as he looks at us, “You two are gross.”

I laugh when he winks at us, then I lean over and kiss Y/N again.

Well, like I said, Y/N fixed everything. We opened the shop and even had to call Grace to come down because so many people were coming in. One woman even told me that she was ��devastated’ that we were going to be closed because our shop is her favorite. She was thrilled to see that we were open and also giving out hot chocolate--my wife is a genius.

The guy is here right now getting the furnace fixed and Y/N is just finishing up with some customers. I’m getting everything done so we can head over to get Ronan and go home for the night. A soft knock on the door causes me to look up, and I see the guy here to fix the furnace.

“You’re all set. Should be warming up in here within 10 minutes.” he says, and I get up to shake his hand, “You might need to adjust it a little to get the temperature just right.”

“Thank you.” I nod, then I stand in the doorway and look over as some customers leave.

Y/N tilts her head back and lets out a big breath, “I wanna go home!”

“Come here,” I grab her by the waist and pull her to me, “We can go home in a few minutes. I just want to make sure it gets warm in here. We should turn off these heaters.”

“On it, boss man.” she salutes me, then she walks over to turn off the heater near the door while I get the heater in the center of the shop. Y/N looks over at me and smiles, “Hey, handsome.”

I laugh, “Hey, beautiful.”

“So, I was thinking…” she walks over to me and holds my gaze as she tugs my belt, “You know, I’ve had my alone days, showered alone, got to relax, but there’s something that I haven’t had in a few days.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

Y/N smiles and cups my face to pull me down to her lips, “You.”

I smile against her lips, “Didn’t want to bother you.”

“You asking for sex is never a bother.” she whispers, and I look into her eyes.

“I wanted you so bad the other day but you looked so cozy in bed,” I say as she laughs, “You looked so relaxed.”

She smiles, “You know what really relaxes me?”

“What?”

“Some really good fucking sex.” she says, and I wrap my arms around her and lift her up as we kiss.

I walk to the office and stop, “Here or home?”

Y/N looks around as she thinks, humming loudly, “How about…both?”

“Sounds good to me.” I say, and she laughs when I lay her down on the desk.

Y/N is panting loudly underneath me with her eyes closed and her nails still digging into my back. I press my lips to her forehead and smile when she opens her eyes to look at me, then I lean down and kiss her a few times. I’m still hard and inside of her, so I slowly thrust my hips.

“Ah!” she laughs and puts her hands on my chest to stop me, “I’m so sensitive.”

I lean down and suck on her neck, then I sit up and look into her eyes, “I’ll go grab some water for you.”

“Thank you,” she whispers. I start to get up but she grabs my arms, “Can you grab me a snack too?”

“Did I work up an appetite?”

Y/N laughs, “Would you just grab me something?”

“I’m on it,” I say, then I grab my boxers from the floor and head downstairs.

We have a few snack things, so I grab some of each and two bottles of water, then I head back upstairs. Y/N is looking at the baby monitor to check on Ronan, but she puts it aside and smiles at me. I hold up the snack cakes that I brought, and she points at the one in my left hand so I toss it to her.

“Ro okay?”

She nods, “Yeah, just sleeping away. She’s such a good sleeper.”

“She is,” I sit down and look over at the monitor, “She’s doing much better lately, you know with her anxiety and stuff.”

“Yeah,” she bites into the snack cake and looks at me with frosting on her mouth. I laugh and lean over to wipe off the frosting on the corner of her mouth, then I suck it off my finger. “She seems to be getting a little better.”

I nod, “A little fussy when you left earlier, but it didn’t last nearly as long as it has before.”

“And she’s making you feel like you matter again?”

I let out a small laugh as I look down, then I nod and look at her, “Yeah.”

“No, I’m serious. Is she? Because I totally get it, John. I get feeling like she doesn’t like you, because she definitely has her days when she only wants daddy.” she turns to me and cups my face, “Jonathan, she loves you to death. She snuggles so close to you when you hold her too--she loves you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I said that stuff the other day.” I admit, and she smiles softly, “I know she loves me. I was just being stupid.”

Y/N lets out a small laugh, “I get the same way. Sometimes--obviously not really lately--but she only wants you to hold her. As the person who literally carried her inside of my body for nine months, I can get a little offended. I try not to take it personal. You shouldn’t either. She adores you.”

“I don’t know why I said a lot of that stuff the other day,” I whisper, looking over to meet her gaze, “I didn’t mean any of it. And I want you to know that I am here to help with anything. You name it and I’ll do it. I want to be the best husband to you because that’s what you deserve.”

“John,” she laughs a little, “I’m always going to think you’re the best husband. Just because we sometimes fight doesn’t suddenly change my mind. I think you’re the best husband.”

I smile at her and bump my shoulder against hers, “I think you’re biased.”

“But I’m right.” she says, and I laugh. “Like always.”

“No doubt.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her closer to me, “I really do apologize.”

She tilts her head back and laughs, “Stop apologizing. I never thought I’d tell my husband to stop apologizing, but John, stop apologizing. We’ve figured it out and worked through it. Babe, I’m not upset anymore.”

“Okay,” I laugh as I look at her, “I was close to getting on my knees and begging if you weren’t going to forgive me.”

“Stop!” she laughs loudly, then she leans over and kisses me, “I love you so much, Wick.”

I kiss her again, “I love you so much, peach. You know, we have so many great memories that it seems like the bad ones don’t even exist.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“That’s a great thing!” I say, and she smiles. “I can’t promise we won’t fight again someday but I can promise that we’ll work through it.”

Y/N looks into my eyes and smiles, then she looks down, “I just…I…ugh! I’m trying to find the words, but I can’t. I know you can’t read my mind--as much as I wish you could--I know that I need to be more vocal when I need help.”

“You tend to not ask for help until you’re drowning,” I say, and she nods when she looks at me, “So, maybe I need to be better at recognizing when you need help. I know that wasn’t really our problem this time around--you came to me for help; I just…fucked up.”

“It’s a work in progress,” she laughs a little, then she looks down as we intertwine our fingers, “I just felt like I was doing everything alone the past week, and I’m sure you did too. We’re a lot alike--we never ask for help. I’m your wife, so the moment you need help, I am here. That’s kind of the deal we made when we put these things on.”

I look down when she points at our wedding rings, then I look at her, “I’m here too. I can’t apologize enough for how terrible of a husband I’ve been to you this week. I want you to know that I’m always working to be a better man for you. I’m always here for you. I am always here to help you. You should never feel like raising Ronan is a one person job, because it’s not. When we decided to be parents, I knew it would be a full time job I did with my best friend; I failed this week. I failed you.”

Y/N looks at me as she tears up, “I hate that you put it like that and that you even feel that way. It breaks my heart.”

“But it’s true, baby. It’s okay to admit it. It’s okay because now I’m learning, and I have no problem admitting that I was wrong and that I need to do better. I’m learning for the future. We’re growing.” I say, and she smiles softly, “We’re growing as a couple, and that’s amazing. How amazing is it that we still want to work through our problems? I’d rather sit and talk things through with you than just sleeping it off and never talking about it and it all getting bottled up until we explode on one another. I am going to be the best husband that I can be to you.”

“You already are, John.” she lets go of my hand and cups my face, “Not once during this week did I think you’re a bad husband. I knew you were stressed and taking it out on me too. We both did it to each other. Next time you need help, you come to me.”

I smile, “And you come to me.”

“And we can fix each other’s problems.”

“Because we’re really good at it,” I whisper, and she smiles as she leans over to kiss me. I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her closer, “Now be completely honest, is there anything left on your mind that we need to talk about? Anything at all.”

Y/N bites her bottom lip and tilts her head to the side as she thinks, then she scrunches her nose and looks at me, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, well, I have one thing to say,” I say, and she nods. “The moment, the freaking second, you start to feel like I’m slacking, you come to me and tell me. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. Don’t worry about my ego. I care more about you than my pride. You sit me down and tell me that I’m slacking, okay?”

“Okay.”

I hold her gaze, “I mean it, Y/N Wick, you tell me.”

“I will,” she nods as her eyes soften, “This, this right here is why you’re my person, John. You cannot even begin to imagine how much I appreciate that you talk with me through these things. I’ve never had that before. I’ve never had someone who cared enough about me that they want to talk through the issues that we’re having. A marriage is hard fucking work. Ours never has felt that way because it’s so fucking easy to get along with you, but every now and then, sometimes we struggle, but you always make sure to talk with me to make sure I’m okay. And you always…always apologize and make sure I’m okay before we move on from it. I married the best fucking person in this world.”

“I just want to be the perfect person for you.” I admit quietly, then I look at her and realize I’ve teared up a little, “I can’t lose you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Y/N moves closer as a tear slides down her cheek, “You won’t ever lose me. Not when we can work through our issues. Not when we love each other this much.”

“I love you so much,” I pull her to my lips and reach for her thigh to get her to straddle my waist. She moves over and sits in my lap, then she pulls the blanket up as we kiss, “I love you.”

The blanket falls down as we kiss and move down the bed, and I hold her tight and roll over on top of her. She reaches down and quickly pulls my boxers down, and I immediately slide back between her legs, hearing her moan into the crook of my neck.

“I love you,” I say with every thrust, and she grips my arm tight and looks into my eyes, “I love you.”

Her chin wobbles a little as she looks into my eyes, then she nods her head and smiles, “I love you.”

The bed creaks softly underneath us as I roll my hips, and I lean down to kiss Y/N before pouring every ounce of love that I have into her.

taglist: @sakurachan-9 | @beingnerdyissupercool | @ruby-octo | @aragornswife | @angie-20000 lmk if you want to be added or removed from my taglist!

#john wick x you #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick imagine #fic: hold my hand #i feel like i haven't updated in forever #hi hello hows it going?#anyway hope you like it!#<33333

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colorfullfalls · 2 years

Text

La Push settled into fall season finally and the wind was full blown. Leaves swirled on the moist grass as the powerful gusts ran across the earth, squirrels scampering to trees to find shelter. This was the best time of the year according to you. Cold but not too cold, yet so freaking pretty.

Embry invited you to the lunch picnic with the pack. You were Paul’s little sister and saw him phase accidentally when he didn’t know you were home. From there you got to be in on the little secret and met Embry.

Little did you know that the second he laid eyes on you, his world changed, the imprint love running through all of his veins. Since then the two of you had been close, but he had yet to explain you were his imprint.

He was nervous.

What if you didn’t want him?

What he didn’t know was that you very much wanted him. You often thought about the way his brown eyes glowed when he talked or his little laugh when he thought something was amusing. Embry was taking forever to make a move if he was interested and you got tired of it. Being the young adult you were, you had causal sex with people. Everyone has their needs and you weren’t exempt of that.

“Do you have to go?” The man named Max asked, grinning lazily at you.

“Yes, I seriously have to go. I have plans besides sex you know.” You retorted, throwing your flannel over your t-shirt. The soft fabric still smelled like Embry which made your gut hurt. Sleeping with other people made you feel guilty but you two weren’t even together.

“Cancel them.”

You snorted, “no. Look, I had a good time okay? I’ll give you a call.”

He grinned, “don’t wait too long,” he got up and dressed himself before leading you out the door.

Driving through Forks to La Push was pretty as usual but something was nagging you about sleeping with Max. It wasn’t the first time you’ve had sex with him but this time felt especially wrong. Wrong because it was someone not Embry. A blush came on your cheeks as the thought of that. He was so attractive and had no clue either, so frustrating. You longed to be able to kiss him at least once to be able to experience it, but that seemed out of reach.

Kim‘s car sat at the bottom of your drive way, the green old beat up jeep slightly parked half in the yard half off. You smiled at her shittty park job. It was a charm of hers.

Fuck.

Kim will ask where you had gone. She somehow was really disappointed whenever you slept with Max, scolding that he was a bad person. He wasn’t. He really wasn’t a bad person, just not your type of boyfriend material.

Kim was waiting patiently in her room when you walked in. Slinging your bag on the floor you sheepishly smiled at her, “Hi bestie.”

“Were you at Max’s?” She asked, a deep frown carved on her beautiful face.

You let out a noise of surprise, “What? How did you even jump to that conclusion so fast dude?”

She shook her head and pointed to you, “Y/N, your flannel is on backwards and inside out. Don’t treat me like I’m dumb. Besides, I have you on Life360. I knew you were there already.”

“Fuck,” you took off your flannel and fixed it, “I was at Max’s and it was fucking good sex too- if you must know. Just saying… that man never disappoints.”

Kim scoffed and stood up crossing her arms, “Don’t you feel guilty for doing that to Embry?”

You rolled your eyes, “Kim. My dear Kim. My best friend. We have been over this. He doesn’t see me that way. I’ve tried leaving hints and nothing has come of it. Besides, he hasn’t imprinted yet so why would I bother. The moment he finds that girl I’m nothing compared to her.”

Kim shrugged, “Maybe he would pick you.”

“Fuck off, that’s not even funny. I’m not dumb either. I see how you are with Jared, how my brother is with Rachel. You can’t deny an imprint, Kim.”

Even saying those words hurt. You did want Embry but odds were clearly not in your favor. So sleeping with Max was satisfying and got the sad reality out of your brain for a while.

“We have to get going.”

Kim brushed past you and towards the car. She seemed mad with the way she dismissed the last thing you said. Why did she care who you slept with? It wasn’t her body.

“Kim, I use protection you know. I’m not going to get pregnant if that’s why you are annoyed.”

Kim rolled her eyes, “you’re so oblivious and that’s what makes me annoyed. Come on, Jared said they are already there waiting for us. Embry is waiting for you. Wait till he finds out what you had been doing before this.”

“Kim, seriously back off. Embry won’t know, how would he?”

“He is going to smell another scent all over you.”

The drive was quiet and you were slightly getting pissed off. Kim had no right to make you feel ashamed for having sex as an adult. Your body was your own and you were very much single. She was acting as if you cheated on a husband, this was ridiculous. Besides, since when did she care so much about who you slept with. She didn’t care when you were in high school. If anything she celebrated with you.

Now she was different.

Was Jared making her think that sleeping with anyone who you weren’t dating was wrong? Was the imprint affecting her?

Parking the car, Kim turned to you and slightly smiled, “I’m sorry for earlier. I love you and I just want you to be happy and I truly know Embry is the right choice.”

“Thank you Kim, I appreciate that. But please chill out okay? Embry and I are best friends and we are fine with that.”

You just lied to your best friend right through your teeth.

Tapping on the window scared you, eyes turning to see Jared beaming at Kim as if she was the sun. She giggled and opened the door going right into his arms. You rolled your eyes. Jared realized you were here within seconds. Stupid wolf senses. You got yourself out of the car and saw Embry lazily walking over with a joyful expression.

God he was so cute.

“Hey stranger, long time no see huh.” He teased, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You let out a short laugh, chest feeling full when he reached your side, “Yeah, it’s almost like we got dinner together last night. Tacos, was it?”

Embry playfully rolled his eyes, “alright, alright. I’ll admit that those tacos were good. But, I’m sticking with the fact that Chinese food is better. You can’t change a man’s heart, Y/N.”

“You’ll become a taco lover if you keep hanging out with me. Taco Tuesdays! $3 for 3 tacos? You can’t beat them Em. You just can’t.”

Embry pulled you in for a hug and you felt him tense up.

“Em?”

He pulled away and gave you a fake smile, “What?”

“Oh, uh. Nothing you just seemed to tense up. Do I smell bad?” You joked.

Fuck he for sure smells Max and now you’re gonna get another lecture about being the town whore.

“No, you smell like you.”

“So bad.” Jared jabbed, bringing Kim and him around the jeep to be on the same side.

“Jared.” Embry warned, glaring at him.

“Oh my gosh it’s a joke.” Jared argued, “if Y/N is a big girl enough to sleep around then she can take a joke.”

You were fuming, “Kim! For the love of god, keep your damn mouth shut for once in your life. Stop telling Jared my business.”

Jared’s face went from happy and joking to livid within one second. His muscles rippled as he took a step forward, “What the fuck did you just say to her?”

“Jared, leave it.” Kim begged, grabbing his arm.

“Yeah Jared. Leave it. Now.” Embry warned with a tightness in his voice.

“No. I’m not going to leave it. What did you just say to her? You think you can treat her like that in front of me?” Jared loudly spoke with venom coming out of his mouth.

Truth be told you were scared. You never saw one of the wolves act like this in front of you. You knew the playful and caring side of them. Not anger. Never anger. Emily wasn’t lying when she said wolves are extremely protective of their imprint. You glared at Kim trying to convey how annoyed you were with her.

She gave you a pleading look and tried to calm Jared down but he was too angry.

“Leave her alone. Walk away, Jared.” Embry stepped in front of you once he realized that you were starting to feel uneasy. You felt your heart beat going faster. If these two fought you would not be welcomed back to hangout. Or worse, Paul would find out and kill Jared.

“I know she’s your imprint, but god why are you defending her? She sleeps with the same dude when you’re literally the perfect option for her. I’m sick of her hurting you man. And I’m not gonna let her talk to Kim like that.” Jared yelled.

Before Jared could finish the last syllable on ‘that’ you were hunched over puking. Holy fuck you were Embry’s imprint this whole time and he never told you. He let you sleep with other people this whole fucking time! He clearly failed to mention that you were his soulmate. You were repulsed with yourself and how dumb you were. Guilt ripped every cell of your body and you slowly moved to sit down.

No wonder Kim was such a bitch about Max. You were breaking Embry’s heart.

Embry snarled at Jared as Jared realized he fuck up. He shooed Kim to get back into the vehicle. Embry’s arms were shaking as he tried his hardest not to shift right there and then. “You upset her. Look! She’s literally puking! You think you can just talk shit on my imprint Jared? That just because I’m not dating her means that I love her or care any less? You’re dead wrong, idiot. I love her.”

Within seconds Embry’s wolf was grabbing Jared’s wolf by the neck and tearing at his fur. Looking at the violent scene made you feel even more sick.

Panic flooded in your veins. You had to get away from here. You shakily stood up and started to walk away when you saw the pack run over. Sam shifted into his beautiful alpha wolf before going to stop the violent fight.

Paul’s arms were scooping his baby sister up in a minute, looking worriedly for any harm on you, “Hey, you’re okay. What happened?”

“Why didn’t you tell me Embry imprinted on me?”

“Fuck.” Paul yelled.

That night you heard a knock at your window. You knew it was Embry. Of course he would show up once you were starting to wish he came around to explain. It’s almost like he knew how you were feeling in that moment. You wondered if he did know and if that was a side effect of being an imprint. You had a vague idea of imprinting but so much was to be learned.

You opened the window and let him climb in. His hair was wet from the rain and so were his muscles and abs. Shirtless. Of course. The boys were always shirtless and it made it harder not to stare at him. You grabbed the towel off your floor you used earlier and he dried himself with a thankful smile.

“So, let’s clear the air. I’m sorry for not telling you that you’re my imprint. I thought we could naturally see where things went between us.” He admitted, putting the towel on your desk chair.

You crossed your arms, “You should have told me.”

He sighed, “I know. I was an idiot. I didn’t mean to make Kim and Jared mad at you. It wasn’t fair of them to treat you like that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have slept with anyone if I knew I was yours. Yet again, you should have told me. I’m so embarrassed that the whole pack probably thinks I’m some whore who is stringing you along.”

“It’s not stringing along when you’re literally the love of my existence, Y/N.” His body gravitated towards yours naturally.

You blushed, being at a loss for words. You often were envious of whoever ended up being Embry Call’s imprint. They would get to be adored by the most thoughtful and handsome man that ever lived. That lucky girl would get to spend her life knowing she was loved by such an amazing human. The thought used to make you want to puke or cry. But it was you the whole time. You were his and he was yours.

His brown eyes were looking expectantly at you for the next move or next part of the conversation.

“Embry.”

“Yes?”

“You pretty much will do anything I ask, right?”

He chuckled, unfolding his arms and nodding, “Always, yeah.”

“Kiss me.”

#embry call imagine #embry call

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 2 years

Text

i have so many things to post about, and many photos to share--including cat stories! and my new rapid-bruising superpower--but i’ve been trying to spend almost no time doing ‘fun’ things while i’m struggling so hard to focus on ‘work’ things.

about a week ago, i finally gave up on that strategy, since it hasn’t been working, and i switched to aiming for acceptance about my limitations (rather than hoping i can overcome them with caffeine, or not sleeping, or self-shaming). @actuallylukedanes was a huge part of that, just by being my best friend and loving me as much as they do. it’s harder to believe you’re a terrible person when the person who knows you best disagrees. anyway, i’ve been feeling better this last week after letting go of that self-inflicted stress.

so tonight i’m going to a local ‘yarning’ group at the library for the first time, where they plan to make a knitted/crocheted vegetable garden to display there. little yarn vegetables! it sounds so fun. i’m nervous because New People, but it helps that i went to a group like once when i lived in utah, and i suspect the people i’ll find here are likely to be similar to the ones i met then--mostly older women who are genuinely friendly.

i enjoy my online social life and i don’t actually want to stay in our current city, so i don’t feel a driving need to make local friends. but my general leaving-the-house skills AND in-person stranger skills atrophied during the pandemic, and i’ve always been someone who actually enjoys those brief stranger interactions that come from shopping or appointments or public transit, so it is important to me to get those skills back (and go back to getting fresh air).

thus tonight’s meeting, and my movie pass, which will be taking me to see m3gan on wednesday. last month i read two op-eds that felt as though they were trying to send me a message: one was about how movie trailers don’t represent things accurately, so people should just see movies for their own reasons and not bother with trailers. when i read that, i sort of agreed, because i once saw a movie with a comedic trailer that turned out to be a thriller. and THEN right after reading the op-ed, i saw a man called otto and agreed even more.because while the trailer did show vaguely what the movie is about, it also left out a central storyline that i wish i had been prepared for going in. (maybe i’m just really dense and it was implied in the trailer? but i didn’t catch it.)

and the other op-ed was encouraging people to watch more movies outside their comfort zones. i no longer remember what the argument for that was, but it did remind me that my viewing habits have narrowed a lot over the years. i used to watch just about anything when i was younger, in terms of giving movies and tv a chance--i followed actors i liked more than caring about genre. and starting to watch more theater movies has reminded me of that as well, because i see more trailers and that can mean i become aware of movies that otherwise i would probably not even hear about.

there was a trailer for a new creed film, for example, and i’ve never seen any movies in that series, so if i hadn’t seen the trailer i doubt i would have known or cared. but it stars michael b. jordan, who i adore thanks to his work in the black panther movies (i will always melt for truly good antagonists) and jonathan majors! (who had such heartbreaking range and power in lovecraft country i will follow him anywhere) and tessa thompson, which just makes it, like, a cast too good to be true. and my immediate thought as the trailer played was, ‘well, but it’s a boxing movie.’ and then i remembered, i watched a boxing movie! i saw the one with meg ryan, because at one point i tried to watch every meg ryan movie. so why wouldn’t i do the same for another boxing movie with a cast i love? i didn’t used to reject movies categorically the way i do now.

and then on top of all that, my favorite movie podcast (you are good) discusses all kinds of movies. but both the hosts are huge fans of horror movies, classic and current, and that means they discuss them a ton even when they’re not covering them officially on the episodes. i have never been a huge horror fan, so i’ve had fun listening to their episodes about old ones that i haven’t actually seen and don’t want to. (friday the 13th, halloween, texas chainsaw massacre.) and the frequent exposure to horror movies in a nice vicarious way...has made me kind of want to become the sort of person who does watch horror movies. at least sometimes, to see what i think.

i saw the whitney houston biopic with kayla at the theater, and one of the trailers they played with it was for m3gan, and kayla was so horrified--she just started shouting ‘no’ at the screen at increasing volume, lol. but i think it looks kind of awful in a fun way, (the trailer gave me such pretty little liars vibes somehow) and once i realized that the lead actress was also from get out, i decided to make it my first ‘who knows if i’ll hate this’ movie day. (i want to see missing next, i feel similarly about that one.)

anyway, i’m actually letting myself have fun plans this week, and i’ll just have to balance work and appts and fun going forward. i bought a really pretty planner that will make figuring all that out more fun...and on top of the rest of it, i now have a therapist whose first focus is on how important sleep is to her with every client, so now i’m struggling to live on a sleep schedule--which isn’t something i even had as a kid! so it’s a work in progress. but aren’t we all? hopefully soon i’ll start catching up more here. i miss you guys. <3

#rambling #life stuff #movies #crochet #i have the best best friend #actuallylukedanes #coffee coffee coffee #michael b jordan #jonathan majors #tessa thompson #meg ryan #long post

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giransbunnywife · 10 months

Text

One small but surely definitive moment between Bunny and Chet, and one of my favorites, has got to be the time her nighttime anxiety is really showed. She’s not supposed to be on night watch but switches with someone bc she just can’t sleep. The thoughts are loud in her brain and she just can’t escape the anxiously intrusive ones that keep plaguing her. She joins Chet for their first night watch together, kinda quiet and solemn compared to her usual demeanor.

Normally this wouldn’t be such a shocker, but this is Bunny! The beautiful, adorable little thing that hasn’t stopped talking and sharing since the moment they first met. She’s almost never quiet unless the moment calls for it, and generally just always cheerful. For her to be quiet and sad is just unlike her, at least from what he’s seen from her. And Chet’s too curious not to ask, plus he’s been enthralled by her since they first met anyway.

“What’s got you so quiet, Bunny?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing… I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

She’s fiddling with her dress and staring at the blades of grass underneath her feet. The never ending thoughts are written completely on her face, with a concerned divot that never seems to vanish between her brows. Even those that don’t know her as well as her most trust Tabaxi companion could see through her sullen demeanor.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head, but after a few seconds of prolonged silence… she can’t help but speak up. After some time of opening and closing her mouth, sucking in deep breaths and hesitating on her words, she finally finds the words.

“Nights are… really bad for me sometimes,” She says with a small squeak to her voice, “I get really anxious and have some scary thoughts. A lot of times I can ignore them or brush them off, but… sometimes it’s not so easy.”

“What kind of scary thoughts? I don’t wanna to pry, but—“

“Just all kinds of stuff that I’m anxious about… kind of depends on if something triggered it or if I’m just having a bad night. Sometimes about me or the people I care about… just bad, nasty things…”

Her voice trails off for a second before she tries to laugh at herself a bit, a smile curling just a little. Possibly an attempt to lighten to mood from such a heavy and personal topic.

“Sometimes it’s recalling memories about silly or stupid stuff I did that I regret. All of the things that I wonder what could of happened… all the things that haunt me.”

“Oh… That’s heavy shit.”

Bunny chuckles, feeling less nervous by how little judgement she receives. She’s so used to seeing the shock and the discomfort on people’s faces when she opens up about her anxiety. The way it manifests and how it eats away at her. There’s very little regret on her face, and in fact she feels almost relieved by being able to talk about something that’s been bothering her.

“I had no idea that you’ve been dealing with that—“

“I tend to keep it quiet, especially from new people. Lot of people meet me with questions that are too personal or too much concern that it makes me even more anxious than I already am. But I trust you guys… Y’all have been refreshingly different…”

She smiles warmly, perking up for the first time since she sat down beside him.

“I appreciate you sharing all that with me, Bunny.”

“It’s nothing… Thanks for listening. I know it’s kind of a bummer when I’m in a sour mood.”

“You don’t have to be so chipper all the time, Y’know. None of them are gonna treat you any differently—“

“Yeah, I know… They’re all so wonderful and understanding. I’m just so used to being the one who everyone relies on to keep the conversation going… It’s refreshing to have the opposite, though.”

“Well, you don’t gotta worry about that with me. I like your company fine.”

“Thanks, Chet. That means a lot.”

She giggles softly, brushing her hair back and falling into a ginger silence that makes her feel less awkward and more relaxed.

“Would it be better if I just sat here with you?”

“That’d be… really nice, Chet. Thank you.”

Bunny falls quiet and she just sits and watch the rising sun, relaxing into the peacefulness after letting her worries wash away just a little. And that is pretty much the first time that there’s just a little bit of a glimpse inside just what a wonder she is, even through all of her demons.

#[ ship w Chet ]#ship headcanons #ship ramblings #anxiety mention #your honor I love them so much #they’re just so good ugh. need more early moments.#bunny is too pure for this world

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

how about when they first noticed ezra was a nervous and anxious baby ?

Seperation

prompt: the moment when h and yn decide that Ezra needs to see a therapist.

warnings: angst

if you like the fic - please reblog, like, comment, or come talk to me in my inbox!

I write for free so if you enjoy my fics please consider donating to support my writing on my kofi.

enjoy 😊

—

It’s late at night, like 3 in the morning, and Harry was down in Atlanta for three games with the Braves.

Easton and Cash had long adjusted to their father being away for short spurts of time - doesn’t mean they don’t miss him but they know he’ll come back to them.

Ezra was another story.

YN felt dread anytime he went away for a game because her youngest got so anxious and had trouble sleeping.

He was usually okay during the day (Harry was gone for practice and obligations during most mornings and afternoons).

It was at night time.

She really didn’t want to call and bother her husband because he had just played a game that went into three innings of overtime and had gotten a gnarly bruise on his thigh from a ball hitting him as he batted.

When they’d FaceTimed after the game, about eight, he had been so exhausted in his hotel room that his eyes were nearly closing as he spoke to her.

Now at three, three in the morning, Ezra still hasn’t went to bed because of how fussy and tearful he was - babbling about his father.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” He was whining into his mother’s neck, his hot tears rolling down his cheeks and onto her skin.

“Ezzie, baby. We have to calm down. Mama’s here and daddy is okay, he’s just working,” She murmured to him for the hundredth time that night.

YN was sat in the den with him because she didn’t want him waking up his brothers or his little sister who just begun to sleep through the night for the most part.

At one point, she did stir for a night feeding, and as YN sat on her bed - Briar latched sleepily, Ezra was nestled tightly into her other side.

When it hit three-thirty, she began to feel herself get frustrated because she couldn’t fix the situation - no matter what she did.

She knew once tears began rolling down her own cheeks that she had to call Harry.

It was never that she was worried he would be mad that she called, she just felt guilty because he had worked so hard already that day.

YN reaches for her phone, taking a deep inhale before pressing his contact for facetime.

It rings three times before it’s picked up, completely dark in his room, and he rasps out drowsily, “Wha’s going on, mama? Y’alright? The babies alright?”

“I-I can’t get him to settle,” YN takes a deep breath, the sleep deprivation making her want to just break down and sob.

“Daddy? Daddy, daddy, daddy,” Ezra just chants, eyes wide on the screen, searching for his father to just appear but all he sees is darkness.

That causes him to just start bawling his eyes out when he can’t will his father onto the phone like he wants.

“Whoa, Ezzie. Sweet boy, c’mon. Y’gotta breathe s’daddy can understand you,” Harry coos, stirring to turn on the light and illuminate his pillow-creased face.

“Daddy!” His voice is shrill, high-pitched and it makes YN’s ears ring.

“Ezra Duke,” Harry says a little more firmly, “Daddy can’t understand you when you scream, okay?”

The little boy sniffles and tries to catch his breath, leaning into where YN is rubbing soothing circles into his back.

“Miss you,” His son whimpers sadly, bringing his voice down a notch, “Come home, please.”

“I am flying’ home tomorrow, bab. Daddy will be home around noon but you have to be good for mama,” He says, voice still smooth and calm.

“Now!” Ezra screams in a way he usually never does and then continues, “Now! Now daddy! Now!”

Both parents are taking aback, Harry with wide eyes and parted lips as he watching his son through his phone and YN just squeezes her eyes shut, exhaling out of her mouth.

“Mama, breathe,” Harry directs towards her, can tell how overwhelmed she is getting from all the chaos of his screaming.

“Daddy, daddy,” Ezra blubbers, green eyes angry and anxious at the same time, “Please, home!”

YN hears noise from behind her, to see her eight year old padding into the room with his unruly curls poking every which way.

“Mama, is Ezzie okay?” Easton wonders, knuckling his eyes sleepily and then Cash follows right behind him in his dinosaur pajamas.

“Fuck, he woke up the boys,” YN informs Harry tearfully, “I just…I don’t know what to do. I can’t do anything to make him feel better.”

The older boys peek into the screen to smile at their dad and Harry gives them a tense smile, “Hi boys, I know Ez is being loud but can y’two be good f’your mama and go back to bed?”

They agree, giving their upset brother a kiss and then their mom before talking quietly to each other as they walk up the stairs.

“Daddy? Home, please! Hold me!” Ezra wails, clinging to his mother’s neck tightly enough to hurt as he tantrums.

“This is the worst it’s ever been, he’s normally stopped before I’ve had to call you,” YN groans, rocking him swiftly against her for lack of a better idea.

“Wait…” Harry sits up, scrubbing a hand over his puffy face, “Has this been happening’ every time m’away?”

“It just started two to three months ago but he’s always been able to be calmed down within an hour or so,” YN replies, shushing Ezra as he babbles over and over again daddy, daddy, daddy.

Harry’s jaw tightens and his frown settles into a deep crease, “Well why a’ve you not told me that m’baby has been cryin’ for me when I’m gone? Do y’not think that’s important?”

YN recognizes his irritation and is running on less than five hours of sleep over two days and may he’s it back with an even sharper tone.

“We can’t change that you’re gone. I’m trying to handle it, Harry.”

“Y’not doin’ a bloody good job at it!” Harry bites back in frustration, heart pounding in desperation as he hears his son cry for him.

“Daddy, daddy, come on.”

Then YN looks at him with watering, hurt eyes, “I’m doing my best. You’re not here, I can’t make you appear. I’m trying to calm him down without having to wake you up.”

And Harry shouldn’t but he’s angry and misses his babies - all of them but especially the one who needs him the most right now.

“Y’dont think I deserve to know tha’ Ezra’s been acting like this?” Harry snaps before adding, “In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.”

And wow, those words hit her like a ton of bricks. It was instilling all the insecurities that she had bubbling in her chest.

In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.

Harry automatically knows that he spoke before he thought and he let his stressed out mind say untrue hurtful things.

He part his lips about to speak before YN cuts him off.

“If you can do it so much better than me, fucking good you. Then come home and fix this because I give up,” YN laughs without humor, finger finding the red button to hang out and disconnecting.

Harry tried calling back over and over and over but YN just hangs her head, sniffling, as she watches her tired, anxious little son finally drift off to sleep.

At some point, her phone stops ringing when he’s given up and it doesn’t ring again until for another thirty minutes.

She knew he was going to keep calling until she picked up - had been that way since they first started dating.

By now, Ezra was asleep in his room and YN was sat against their headboard - having tossed the tear soaked shirt she had on off and was feeding Briar once more.

The millionth facetime request comes through and finally she swipes to answer, he’s furious right as they connect, “D’you have any idea how worried I am? Y’cant ju-“

He stops himself when he sees his baby girl pop her head from her mother’s breast with puffy lips and look at the screen, “Dadadadada.”

“Oh, hi lil’ mama,” Harry changes his tone completely, face softening - “Did I interrupt y’eatin’? S’mama being so nice and feeding you?”

Briar just smiles with a gapped baby tooth smile, a dimple pushing into her left cheek as she does so.

“Guess I’m good for one thing, right? A fucking milk-maker,” YN scoffs at her husband’s opposite tone as she guides Briar gently back down to finish her meal.

Harry frowns, “Y’know tha’s not anything near the truth and tha’ I think you’re the best mama to our babies. M’just upset.”

“You told me my best wasn’t good enough, I can’t believe you would say something like tha’ to me,” YN begins to sniffle again.

“Sweetheart, m’sorry. I ju-“

“What did you call for, Harry? It’s nearly four-thirty in the morning and I haven’t slept for nearly two days now. I want to feed her and go to sleep,” YN’s voice is disconnected and exhausted.

“To talk, I didn’t say how I was feeling correctly-“

“When you come home tomorrow you can fix everything and I’ll let you because I’m not doing a good enough job,” His wife cuts him off again.

Harry starts to feel a ball of worry form in his throat as he hears how unemotional and distance his wife sounds with him.

He had totally said the wrong things as his wife was just trying to do her best at balancing four babies while he was away.

“Please, let me apologize-“

“I would like to go to sleep. Please don’t call back,” YN responds before ending the phone call and leaving the screen dark.

They rarely ever fought. Especially like this.

He’s man enough to admit that he cries after he tries calling back (even though she said not to) and it went straight to voicemail.

He tries facetiming in the morning, at around nine right before if flight takes off - surprised when it actually was picked up.

Harry only sees YN for a brief moment before she’s propping up the camera on the kitchen table so that Easton and Cash are in view eating pancakes and Briar is in her high chair with blueberries staining her chubby cheeks.

Ezra must still be in bed.

“Hi bubbies,” Harry greets with a smile as they’re curls shake as they look up with excited smiles.

“Daddy! You comin’ home?” Cash squeaks excitedly through a mouthful of food.

“Hi dad!” Easton chimes in, waving.

Briar is only half-interested, more taken by the fact that if she squishes the berries between her fingers they turn mushy, babbles out a, “Daddadaa.”

“I’ll be home in like three hours, ‘kay” Harry informs them - his heart aches to be there right now with theme

“Ezzie cried all night,” Cash let’s his father know.

“Mama cried too,” Easton whispers, like it’s a secret that he doesn’t want her to hear, “I think she is really sad.”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut for a minute, “I know. Ezzie was sad last night. Can I talk to mama?”

Easton looks to his mother off camera as she must say something to him to repeat to Harry, “Mama said that she is busy and she’ll see you when you get home.”

He clenches his fist off camera, trying to smile but he knows it’s terse as he says, “Alright, I love you all. See y’when I get home.”

Meanwhile, YN gets all the children settled after breakfast.

Easton, Cash, and Ezra in the backyard - the two older ones digging holes for bugs and the younger playing in the sandbox.

Briar was snoozing in the cradle of YN’s elbow as she sat on a chaise - watching the kids.

She hits the number she was looking for, waiting for it to ring, and then she hears, “Hillside Pediatrics, this is Jess.”

The office knew the family well because Harry is Harry Styles and they have four children who visit there.

YN inquires about therapeutic options for him, resources, and if they had any recommendations for where to take him.

Like the super mom she is, she manages to set up an intake appointment that evening (which was a miracle on its own), call Anne and ask to watch the other children, and then take a deep breathe.

Harry steps through the back door, dressed in his usual Yankees hoodie, Nike shorts, and trainers looking tanner than before.

“Hi bubbies!” He greets, basking in when all of his children look up and squeal excitedly at the sight of their father.

Easton and Cash are the fastest, racing to cling to each legs and nuzzle into his thigh with a tight hug.

Ezra is slower, by the time he’s arrived to his father - there was no room for him to shuffle in and he automatically lets out an earth-shattering wail.

Just like before.

“Daddy! Hold me! Daddy, hold me please!” His youngest son begs desperately, stretching up his arms, and letting hot tears stream down his cheeks.

Harry tuts, reaching for him and popping him on his hip but Ezra has other ideas - scrambling until his nose is pressed into the curve of Harry’s neck with his arms wrapped tightly around him.

“Ezzie, c’mon now,” Harry titters softly, reaching down to give both of his other boys a kiss on the head before they dart back off to play.

“Daddy, miss you,” Ezra blubbers sadly, Harry wincing when his son yanks a bit in his longer curls by the nape of his neck.

“Y’okay, daddy’s got you. Relax, breathe bubba,” His father reassured him, swaying softly back and forth until he’s just sniffing.

“We have an appointment with a children’s play therapist for him later at five,” YN tells him, shushing Briar who’s squeaking from the noise.

Harry takes a deep inhale, “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. Can we talk now since y’been ignoring my calls?”

YN bristles at the attitude in his tone, “Excuse me if I’d rather not be critiqued on my skills as a mother when I am sleep-deprived and stressed out.”

He clenches his jaw, speaking lowly with firmness, “Y’bein’ absurd! I didn’t critique to you, y’blowing things out of proportion! Y’the one who didn’t tell me this was going on!”

“It didn’t get that bad until last night! I could handle it - he would just be upset for a little before bed but he’d never got that anxious before,” She justifies, returning the glare he’s giving her.

“Didn’t think y’could mentioned it to me? I have a right to know, he’s m’baby too. I could have fix this yet you were letting him suffer,” Harry bites out but know as soon as it’s out of his mouth that he wishes he could swallow the words back down.

You were letting him suffer.

YN doesn’t even argue back, just starts bawling because of how hurtful those words were and how could he even say that?

“Mama, fuck- I didn’t, I’m just-“

His wife gets up without a word, using Briar’s blanket to wipe at her wet cheeks, and vanishing through the sliding back doors.

Ezra was snoozing peacefully on him and he couldn’t leave the boys outside alone so he resorts to sitting down on one of the outdoor couches and curse internally.

He couldn’t believe he was being so cruel. He just felt so….betrayed that she hadn’t told him what had been going on and he felt like he was letting down Ezra.

It was a nasty feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach because he was away so much from his family and it was stressful for everyone.

He wanted to cry at the idea of his son crying for him every night.

Harry starts to get anxious when YN isolates herself in their bedroom with Briar for the next upcoming hours.

He knocks softly, opening the door to YN turned on her side away from him, under the covers, with Briar asleep in her bassinet asleep.

“Mama? Y’awake?” Harry murmurs cautiously with a sandwich and chips since she’d disappeared and hadn’t been down once, water in the other hand.

“Are the boys okay?” YN asks quietly, not bothering to turn over to face him.

“Yes, babies are fine. They’re watchin’ Toy Story right now, eatin’ lunch,” Harry replies, eyes falling in his beautiful little daughter.

“If the boys are fine then I don’t want you in here,” YN tells him with an angry tone but low enough that it won’t disturb Briar.

Harry nearly whimpers.

“Baby, please. We need to talk-“

“If the boys are fine, I want you to leave me alone.”

Harry hesitates by the door, feeling helpless as he slips the plate onto the dresser in case she is hungry but he doubts she’ll touch it.

“Alright, I’ll leave y’be. Call me if y’need anythin’ or help with Briar,” He offers, trying to buy time in the room.

She laughs sarcastically, “Yeah, I’ll make sure you’re notified because I can’t do a good enough job myself.”

Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair, trying to conjure up the perfect words to fix this situation but it’s interrupted.

“Daddy? Daddy? Where? Hold me!” Ezra screeches as Easton stands outside the door with him, holding his hand.

“Dad, he won’t stop,” The oldest complains with annoyance as Ezra scurries to his father and up into his arms.

“Daddy daddy,” He chants into his father’s skin with relief.

“Thank y’East, Ezzie’s been sad lately. Huh?” Harry replies, thumbing at Easton’s cheek.

The oldest shrugs, “Not always. Mama cheers him up all the time with kisses and hugs.”

Harry gazes back to the lump under the blankets and feels himself getting choked up. He really really regretted his words.

He didn’t regret being upset with her. He regrets the cheap shots he took at his wife who’s just trying to be a full time mom to his babies.

“Mama?” Ezra squeaks at the word, realizing he hasn’t seen her recently and then he’s back to tantruming, “Mama, mama, mama. Where’s mama?”

“M’right here, Ez,” YN murmurs, flipping to her other side so that her youngest could see her. His face lights up and he scurries to the bed, scampering up until his mom is tucking him under the blankets with her.

Harry’s heart aches when Ezra whimpers quietly and burrows into her warm chest with happiness that he found his mother.

“Y’got him?” Harry asks, hand raking through Easton’s curls as he leans into his father’s side.

“Can we go play now, dad?” Easton asks impatiently, tugging his father out of the room and down the staircase.

Anne shows up and the two older ones are so excited, bouncing up and down as they tug her into the backyard to show her the holes they dug with Briar popped on her hip - gnawing on her shirt collar.

YN brings Ezra down the stairs, curls tamed with a bit styling mousse and a little adias x disney outfit that was the cutest thing ever. ***

Harry reaches out to take Ezra off YN but he whines and shakes his head, clinging to his mother like it was life or death.

“No daddy! Mama!” Ezra pouts angrily, glaring at his father with protectiveness.

He puts his hands up, “Okay, okay. Y’can stay with y’mama.”

The car ride is silent, Harry doesn’t know what to say and YN isn’t giving him anything to work with. He feels like he’ll just say the wrong thing again.

When they pull up to the building and Harry puts it in park, he’s startled when his wife just starts bawling into her hands.

Harry freezes for a second with wide eyes before rumbling, “Mama, sweetheart. Please don’t cry, it breaks m’heart, darlin’.”

“I’m…I’m no-not a good mom,” YN cries, “I wanted to tell you but I was scared. I don’t want you to think I can’t handle raising our babies.”

Harry pries her hands away from her face, cupping her cheeks and firmly staring, full conviction in his voice, “If I didn’t think y’could handle four babies then I wouldn’t have put them in you. I wouldn’t talk about putting more in you.”

YN’s eyes are watering, letting Harry swipe the tears away with his thumbs as she inhales deeply, “I am so so sorry I didn’t tell you. I don’t want you to worry when you’re away.”

Harry leans forward, kissing her harshly before whispering against her lips, “I don’t give a fuck about baseball in comparison to you and the kids. I’d give it up this second if y’asked. I want to worry because you’re the love of m’life and I’m y’husband - I’m here to support you and support our family.”

He continues, “I am a bit frustrated with you. I want you to tell me everything I miss when I’m gone even if it stresses me out or upsets me. Okay? But I shouldn’t have said hurtful things. You’re the best mama on this planet and y’treat our babies the best.”

YN nods, willing herself to stop crying as their appointment starts in ten minutes as she takes steady breathes.

“I forgive you. I’m sorry I let my pride get in the way. I just…I feel like you do everything for us and the least I could do is manage the kids,” She sighs with self-deprecation.

“Mama, just because one of our bubs needs therapy doesn’t mean you’re not doing a perfect job. We’ve always know Ezzie was an anxious baby. This is going to be good for him and for us, right?” He encourages, nosing at her cheek before she offers up her lips once more for a short kiss.

“I love you,” YN tells him, running a thumb of a light dusting of stubble on his jawline.

“Love y’more than anything,” He replies instantly.

Ezra is nervous as they step into the calming, peaceful office where there are neatly organized buckets of toys and shelves of books.

Patricia was a middle-aged woman with a kind smile who welcomed them in, she observed how Ezra had himself wrapped around his dad with hesitant green eyes peeking at her.

As they sit down, Patricia says softly, “This must be Ezra?”

They all wait for a moment before the toddler turns around to look at the woman and says timidly, “m’Ezzie.”

“Hi Ezzie,” The therapist greets and he gives her a cautious smile before nuzzling back into his father’s neck.

The discuss what has been going on. How Ezra has always been very nervous, anxious, cautious in a way that none of his other siblings are.

How he struggles when one of his parents is away from him, how he can get upset if he can’t find one of his siblings, or how much he worries about things most kids his age don’t worry about.

Patricia does an excellent job in calming down the parents, assuring them that it was nothing out of the norm, and that therapy would be beneficial for him.

She states that they’ll work a lot of feelings - being able to describe and recognize them. That will be one of the most important things.

Also working on his ability to calm down and cope with stressful situations, recommending once a week which of course his parents agreed to.

By the end of the intake, Ezra had ventured to take one of the baby dolls from a bin and bring it back to his father.

“Look daddy, s’a baby,” He lisps proudly, holding it up to show him.

“Good job, bubs,” Harry laughs, leaning to kiss his forehead - watching him toddle off to find more dolls to play with.

That night, after all the kids go to bed, and YN is finishing her final feeding with Briar in her nursery before putting in her crib.

Harry runs a nice, steaming bath with lavender bubbles and a candle burning with the lights dimmed low.

When she finds him, he slowly undresses her with warm kisses and praises of how good of a wife and mother she is.

They lay in there together, YN between his legs with her head rested on his chest, as his hands massage at her tummy and hips lovingly.

And yeah, everything is okay after that.

They get up the next day and everything is back to normal except now Ezra goes to therapy once a week with his parents.

(Ezra ends up working with Patricia until he’s in about sixth grade.)

2K notes · View notes

windblooms · 4 years

Text

liyue boys – how they touch their s/o

headcanons and scenarios of how childe, chongyun, scaramouche, xiao, xingqiu, and zhongli would romantically interact with their s/o.

gender-neutral reader. sfw scenarios for each character, with additional suggestive implications for childe, scaramouche, xiao, and zhongli (since they’re confirmed legal). 2309 words.

childe

the Touchiest of the liyue boys

he just really, really fond of touching you, whether it be with his fingers through your hair or having you a hand on your lap.

the first time he wanted to touch you, he actually asked (yes, verbally) if you were okay with him doing so

at least one of his acts with you could be orthodox, yeah? although, looking back on it now, he supposes that he was attempting to be a bit more serious and wasn’t sure how to convey the sentiment when his reputation often preceded him

since then, he’s made a habit to have you next to him at all times

you don’t mind, since his attention is admittedly nice, but understandably neither of you want to display affection towards each other in the presence of his coworkers.

if you were to be in public, such as walking down the streets of liyue, then he’d have his fingers laced between yours

if he were to be in a particularly good mood that day, he’d actually have you hook your arm around his. you’re not sure why – but maybe it’s because more of you would be pressed against him that way.

an avid displayer of fleeting touches. some are playful, like tapping his finger on your nose to get your attention, while others are slightly more teasing, like trailing his fingers up your thigh when you’re working and really shouldn’t be getting distracted.

“i can’t help it. your expressions are always the best part.”

so long as you’re next to him, he’ll find any excuse possible to have himself on you.

you’re cold? take his coat, but also a complimentary hug because wow he’s kinda sorta warm for a snezhnayan native.

got work to do? he’ll stroll over to you every once in a while, claim he’s checking on you, and then place a kiss on your cheek as “encouragement.”

just got home from a long day out? take some time to lay on top of him, he makes for a comfy mattress

his favorite ways to touch you: gloves off, thumb rubs against the back of your hand, hands cradling your neck or squeezing your hips in more passionate moments. especially enjoys contact the more of your body he feels. not sexual all the time, but definitely sensually pleasing. he’s reassured when he feels you next to him.

chongyun

chongyun is relatively inexperienced in acting out his romantic impulses.

hand holding? yeah, sure, he knows it’s what people do, but apparently there something about interlacing fingers . . . ?

also, there are different ways to hug? he thought that just wrapping his arms around your shoulders would be fine, but is there a specific instance where he should “back hug” you?

he thinks there should be a lover’s manual for how to go about with physical touch, but sadly there isn’t, and he’s left by himself to make sense of his confusion.

he’ll have to learn first-hand – something he quickly realizes he won’t mind.

chongyun’s touches will reflect his nature: gentle and initially somewhat shy, but he will gradually become more confident as time goes on.

the first time he tries to initiate hand-holding with you, you’re sitting next to each other on the couch

you can tell something’s a bit off by how he’s staring straight into your skull, as if he’s conflicted over something even when there’s nothing to be distressed about –

and he lifts his hand, hesitantly, and you swear that he’s shaking, before he mumbles something along the lines of “screw this” and just

places the tips of his fingers over the back of your hand and

just leaves them there

and you’re blinking, not quite sure what to make of his awkwardness, before connecting the dots when you see him absolutely red in the face.

he’s startled when he hears you laugh, and especially when you move your hand to securely grasp his own.

you’re warm, incredibly so, and when he looks up from his lap to affirm that he hasn’t made a complete mess of the mood, you’re there to give him a pat on the head.

“y-yeah. can we stay like this? hey! no, don't laugh – ”

the take-away: soft boy. will realize that he loves it when you squeeze his hands but will be flustered when admitting it. also internally enjoys it when you put your chin atop his head, and when you let him put his hand on your shoulder. will become more confident over time with showing affection, whether it be through light touches or shy pecks.

scaramouche

scaramouche is admittedly one of the more destructive harbingers

meaning he wouldn’t be one to be gentle in the slightest

probably doesn't even know that hugging is supposed to be an act of affection and instead registers it as another method to crush someone’s chest

the least likely out of the liyue boy to even be in a romantic relationship

but in the off chance that he is,

warm affection won’t be on the menu unless you’re in a dream sequence.

yes, he might not be as irritable around you. yes, he won’t immediately scowl at your presence, and maybe even request for you to be beside him once in a while.

but that is a far cry from assuming stable, healthy intimacy.

the closest he’s ever gone to touching you kindly is by pulling you towards him – nearly winding you with his forcefulness – and insisting that you play with his hair

(definitely a pushy one, and it would be endearing if not for the fact that he does not know how to interact constructively with others.)

so it’ll take time, lots of explanations and dialogue to tell him that no, he doesn’t have to be so rough with his grasp, and yes, it does bother you and you’d insist that he learn to be gentler before touching you again.

he won’t strike you down for speaking your mind – that’s exactly why he’s with you to begin with, since you were able to back up your wit with fight.

he’ll grumble, as if you had told him the most unpleasant of news (which you suppose you just have), but nonetheless attempts to mimic touches you would approve of.

scaramouche is, admittedly, easy to vex. while he might generally be a hassle to handle, the only time you do let him give in to his harsh tendencies are when you two are kissing each other a bit too hard or grabbing each others’ clothes too eagerly.

in other words, making out.

it’s obvious that he enjoys these more aggressive instances over the ones you’ve convinced him to be satisfied with. it’s an agreement that both of you have come to terms with: if he’s to command ask for little things, he better be respectful about it. but when you decide to reward him for exercising restraint publicly, it’s behind his door where you let him go unrestrained.

“so long as you’ll still let me do this, then i might tolerate your . . . other preferences.”

xiao

he’s not sure when you became more comfortable with one another, but for some reason he’s certain that it had to be after you commented on his hair

something about it being soft and appealing to braid – not that he would ever let you,

okay, maybe if you ask enough times. but for now the answer is definitely no.

anyways,

you were actually the one to ask to hug him first. he was a bit perplexed, wondering what you were thinking that prompted you to ask, but then realized that neither of you had been physically affectionate before.

as in, not even hand holding. or hand squeezes. or anything else that would be considered basic between partners.

as quickly as you asked, he affirmed that it was all right, and has since become attuned to your need for physical assurance.

something about him “feeling like home” and “safe.” at the time, he wasn’t sure what feeling like a home meant, however through time he realized that you felt like home as well.

soothing. as if automatic, he fits your body into his and holds the back of your head against his chest, lets you twirl your fingers in your hair, and carries you into bed.

under the covers, he feels more alone with you, as if the closed door isn’t already enough.

even in the dark, his eyes will roam all over your face, and he’ll run his fingers over your cheeks, down your neck, and over your collarbones.

he can feel you shudder slightly under his touch, and he’ll always stop immediately, concerned for your discomfort.

but when you take his hand to your lips and press kisses on his fingers, he’s relieved that he’s still doing right by you.

so long as you’re sure, he’ll continue his ministrations. whether it be holding your form flush against him as you drift to sleep, or crooking his finger under your chin so he can mold your lips together just the way you like, so long as you both know you’re safe with him.

in short: inexperienced, but always concerned for you. won’t do anything unless you ask or suggest, and even then, his care for you is more obvious than the wake of day with the sunrise.

“i’ll hold you as long as you let me – if you’d have me be with you.”

xingqiu

simple: dramatic.

if you thought that the novels he’s written have gotten to his head, then you would be completely right, because he does not miss an opportunity to add in some flair to your relationship.

produces a glaze lily out of thin air each time he greets you after your day of work, “fairest, this is for thou,” and has the audacity to look pleased with himself.

a nerd at heart, and you might unironically think it’s cute if not for the laughs he allows himself afterwards.

is always smiling when you touch, even if you’re just bumping into him accidentally.

it doesn’t take much to make him happy, you realize, but that assumption morphs into wow he just. really loves with his whole heart.

xingqiu’s a magnet when it comes to your shoulder, somehow always leaning against you when given the opportunity

you could be sitting next to each other at the table, or even standing up talking to other people, and he’ll latch onto your shoulder.

“i’ve got you right next to me. why not capitalize on the moment?”

absolutely adores it when you let him play with your hair. you’re not sure what it’s about, but after his obvious attachment to your arm, you just decided that he was a very physical lover and you’d be more than willing to indulge him.

if you come visit him when he’s reading or writing, he gets especially excited because!!! head rest!!!!

and consider yourself occupied for easily the next hour as he rattles off yet another plot of a novel, or attempts to woo you with sappy lines that he decided to mentally bookmark just to tease you with later.

in the instances when he isn’t occupying your lap or shoulder, he actually likes it when you lean on him as well, especially if you’re sleepy. he finds the whole act endearing, either you being too lazy to move to bed or finding him comfortable.

so long as you don’t tire of his antics, he’ll be sure to indulge you in the same.

zhongli

despite being what some would call oblivious when it comes to human interaction, zhongli is surprisingly romantically competent so long as you give him time to adjust.

he’s quick to notice things you like and hones in on them with relative ease. admittedly, the first time you hugged him, he was a bit stiff, but was actually the one to initiate physical affection the following time.

it gives you hope that there aren’t actually cobwebs still in that thousand year-old brain of his.

already a traditional man, you soon realize that he’s fond of more innocent touches, such as when you slot your fingers against his or unbind his hair to play with the strands.

he might even fall asleep if you comb his hair long enough, enjoying being spoiled.

forehead kisses!

at least twice a day, he’ll brush aside your bangs and place pecks on your forehead. if not your forehead, then definitely your cheeks.

lowkey wants to pinch your cheeks. you’re not sure why. maybe it’s the childish curiosity that peaks out of him every so often, and he’ll absent-mindedly comment that your cheeks remind him of crystal shrimp balls.

you’d stutter every time, finding his sense in compliments endearing yet flustering at once, and he’d just blink, the sincere man he is.

“but they do. flush with color.” a pause. “could i maybe have a bite?”

ah, yes, when he does want a bite –

his touches will be unbearably soft. so much so that you’re not even sure he’s real, with the tenderness on his fingers and warmth in his voice.

zhongli cherishes you as if he’s waited a thousand years for you. in the back of his head afraid that if he’s any more present then he might break you, as if he would ever capable of doing something like that –

he’ll have your thighs around his waist, body above your own and mouth leaving fleeting pressures along your neck

each time his lips press into your skin, he leaves sweet words behind.

he only wishes to enjoy the moments he has with you, so long as you enjoy yourself as well. zhongli will be attuned to your preferences, and take delight in spoiling you rotten – even if he might be a bit unorthodox with his speech, his sentiment is never in question.

#genshin impact #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #chongyun x reader #xingqiu x reader #scenarios #headcanons #short king will count as a liyue boy for now #can you see my zhongli bias? yes #italics need a break

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wonwoonlight · 3 years

Text

my way to you / jeon wonwoo | chapter 2

➝ Wonwoo x fem!Reader

➝ rich!AU // heir & heiress!AU // best friends to lovers // idiots to lovers lol // fluff // a lil drama bc why not // somewhat angsty // clicheeeee <3

➝ series warning: OC is Dense with a capital D, so many cliches but idc, implied sexual activities (but no actual smut scenes), eventual suggestive scenes, theyre both idiots, food, insecurity and self doubts, somewhat toxic parents, someone fainted like once, not always proofread am sorry ;-; that’s probably it? tell me if there’s more!

➝ A/N: the first few chapters are really just me laying down the characters and the backgrounds sooo hopefully they wont bore you hehe enjoy as always and pls dont hesitate and drop by to give me your thoughts!

series masterlist

“Have you eaten dinner?” Wonwoo asks as he opens the door to the room you’ve claimed as yours in his penthouse. He’s just gotten back from work, and when he sees your shoes by the door, he immediately goes to your room before even washing up.

You shake your head, not even bothering to turn to him. “Too sleepy. Night, Won.”

Wonwoo smiles to himself, shaking his head in amusement before he steps inside and forces you out of the blanket. “You’re not staying over if you’re not going to eat. Shua told me you have three events to handle this month?”

You groan at the mention of your cousin, mumbling about how his mouth is too loose but immediately stops once Wonwoo gives you that pointed look. “It’s two. And I’ll just go home then.”

Your best friend sighs tiredly at your words, though he knows you don’t mean it—plus, he’s told Seungcheol, your personal guard, to go home already because Wonwoo will drive you to work tomorrow himself.

He’s seen the guy standing sturdily in front of his door earlier, and if Seungcheol’s there at this hour, it means it hasn’t been long since you’ve arrived because the guard usually left an hour or two after you told him he’s free to go.

Your driver has probably left first, already used to your arrangement with Wonwoo. But Seungcheol has only worked with you for a year at most and still feels the need to stand on guard at all time even though Wonwoo’s place has been considered safe since the beginning.

“Come on, accompany me eat at least,” Wonwoo tries again. “You’re probably here because you had too many meetings today and the last one is nearby, aren’t you?”

“Why ask if you already know?” you mumble as you reluctantly sit up on the bed before clinging yourself to his side. “Do you even know what to eat?”

Wonwoo shifts so you can lean more comfortably on him, your hair brushing his neck after you settle yourself there. “I’m just in the mood for some ramyeon, to be honest. Ordering would take too long and I’m not really in the mood to cook.”

“‘Kay,” you slowly nod, offering to make it for him despite your claim of being too tired just minute ago. “You go wash up. The ramyeon should be ready when you’re finished.”

“Thank you,” he squeezes your shoulder before letting go. “You can cook two just in case you feel like eating some. I’ll eat the rest if you can’t finish it.”

“I know, I know,” you scrunch your nose; ramyeon doesn’t sound so bad after all, and maybe you are a little hungry because you might or might not have skipped proper meals today and chose to fuel your body with nothing but bread and caffeine.

Fifteen minutes later, Wonwoo finds you playing with your phone on the dining table, two bowls of ramyeon already sit on the table.

“Can’t resist ramyeon, huh?” he jokes as he sits down across from you. His portion is a lot more than yours and he can only guess you only want to eat half the portion and place the rest in his bowl.

“I’ve only had bread and coffees since morning,” you honestly confess to him, grinning sheepishly at his disapproving eyes. “Didn’t have time to eat, Won. And you know I can’t sleep if I’m too full, else I’d be eating one full portion.”

“Why didn’t you eat earlier then?”

“I told you I’m too sleepy,” you huff. “Don’t feel like eating alone too, so I figured I might as well sleep it away.”

Wonwoo frowns once more in disapproval, and you’re already reassuring him you’re fine and you’re freer tomorrow than today so all should be okay. But Wonwoo doesn’t buy your excuse, well aware about your tendency to skip meals when you’re too busy because eating seems like a waste of time and you’d rather finish your work faster than take a break to eat when you’re in a trance.

“When did you even meet Shua?” you try to distract him.

“I didn’t. Needed to discuss something with him over the phone earlier,” he says as he stirs his noodle. “He said you dropped by their place a few days ago?”

“Yeah, I was bored and you had that shareholder meeting I think,” you shrug. “Didn’t we eat lunch together that day? Didn’t I tell you?”

Wonwoo shakes his head, taking off his glasses so it wouldn’t fog up. “You just told me you had a meeting for Yoon Holdings annual party.”

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” you easily brush away. “I wasn’t there for long anyway. Which is good because else they’d talk my ears off.”

“But they are true, princess,” he starts, already knowing what you’re referring to. “I don’t think it’s healthy to take on three projects at once like this.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you stubbornly say. “It’s only 8PM and I’m already sleepy, Won. My brain isn’t functional enough right now. You’re lucky I didn’t burn the house down making the ramyeon.”

Wonwoo holds back the urge to say that’s exactly why he doesn’t think you should be handling all these projects; that you’re already too tired and you're going to be even more tired for days to come. But he settles for a worried sigh, making a mental note to make sure you’re at least eating proper meals everyday.

“Speaking of, is your schedule full tomorrow? I only have one meeting in the morning and then I’m free for the rest of the day,” you ask, too tired to notice the way Wonwoo gets immediately silent at your question.

“I… My mom told me to do something for her in the afternoon,” he answers after a beat. “I don’t know how long it’ll take but I’ll tell you once it’s done.”

You’d usually prod more, not because you demand Wonwoo to tell you everything he does, but because you like hearing about Wonwoo and his day. But right now, you’re barely even conscious and Wonwoo isn’t sure if he should be glad that, for once, you don’t notice the awkward hesitation in his tone when he answers you, nor the vague reason he just tells you.

“I’ll just go call Chaeyoung then,” you shrug, taking the last bite of your meal already. “Do you want to watch something after this?”

“Sure, just let me finish this real quick,” he says as he slurps his noodle. “You know, I still don’t understand why you can’t sleep after eating. Most people feel like sleeping after a meal.”

“Dunno. I just feel sick and bloated if I lie down immediately after I eat,” you explain as you lean your face on your palm, watching Wonwoo drinking up the soup.

After he’s done, he tells you to pick the movie while he cleans up after the both of you. And when he steps into the living room, you’re already buried in the blanket you’ve reserved for watching movies. You turn to him, telling him to quickly take a seat so you can start the movie already.

So Wonwoo does exactly that, slipping under the blanket next to you and prompts you to automatically latch yourself to him, your arms hugging his as your head rests on his forearm.

It’s kind of crazy that his heart would still flutter at the gesture when you’ve been doing this to him since you were all kids; but he knows there’s no one to blame when he’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember, and he’s probably used to the butterflies in his stomach by now.

Not long after the movie starts, Wonwoo hears your breath evening as seconds tick by and your head getting heavier on his arm. So he tries his best to subtly shift himself to make you more comfortable; if you’re going to fall asleep on the sofa, then he’d make sure you’re not sleeping even more uncomfortable than it’s already bound to be even though he knows he’s also gonna be unnecessarily sore in the morning.

As you press yourself closer to him in your sleep to seek his familiar warmth, Wonwoo can only wonder if you’ll ever know the effect you have on him.

It’s Friday night when you get to see Wonwoo again, three days after that time you slept over in his place, because you’ve both been busy that you can only bother him through the phone. Even now, the only reason you finally catch him in person again is because The Kwons is holding a 75th birthday party for their elder, who, according to your parents, is the founder and owner of Kwon Tech, the giant technology company that’s probably bigger than Yoon Holdings.

That said, this is just another rich people party that you go to because your parents force you to come in their place; for publicity, you assume. Because if you’re not going to be the head of Yoon Holdings, then at least you should be the face of the company.

You used to be reluctant to come to this party, mainly only there to accompany (bother) Wonwoo as you whine about how much you want to go home. But ever since you’ve started taking care of your company’s events three years ago, you end up coming to these parties to look for references.

Plus, the food is usually good and you’ll be with Wonwoo, so you figure it’s not so bad to be there as long as you have him by your side.

Your eyes wander around the venue, taking in the classic white and gold decoration everywhere. The buffet is pretty diverse; probably because they couldn’t be bothered to ask about each guests’ diet. At least they do have a ‘vegan’ and ‘peanut-free’ sections. The desserts are pretty good too, and you could’ve sworn the chocolate mousse they’re serving is the best one you’ve ever tasted. Maybe you should dig around and find out the catering service for this particular party.

“The strawberry mousse is better, you know,” a low but cheery voice says from beside you.

“Huh, really,” you say in a bored tone, not even bothering to turn to the person. Wonwoo goes to the toilet for one second and someone’s already trying to talk to you. Don’t people here usually think you’re dating Wonwoo? What’s with this guy? That rumour has always been successful in warding weirdos off that you never bother to correct them when they think you’re dating the youngest Jeon.

“Yeah, unless you don’t like strawberries I guess,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

Well that’s unexpected. You thought he would either: 1. drop a pick up line. Or 2. introduce himself and ask for your name. But this stranger seems to just want to share his thoughts on the dessert table.

“Do you not like strawberries?”

“Eh, I prefer chocolate,” you hum happily at your spoon, finally turning to take a look at the guy. You don’t know him--at least not personally, but it bothers you that he looks familiar for some reason. So you shoot straight to it. “Why do you look familiar?

He blinks in confusion, pointing to himself as if there’s anyone else you might be talking to. “Is that your way of asking who I am? I’m Kwon Soonyoung?”

“Huh. So are you one of the Kwons or are you from another Kwon family?”

“You’re funny,” he grins in amusement. “Yeah, that’s my grandfather right there. Thank you for coming to his party, I guess?”

You nod as you take the information in. Soonyoung looks about your age, and even though he’s not as tall as Wonwoo is, he’s still considerably tall compared to you. You expect him to ask for your name now that he’s told you his, but Kwon Soonyoung seems to be making a habit of doing things other than what you expect him to do.

“You’re Yoon Holdings’ heiress, aren’t you?” he with a friendly smile, his tone sounds like he’s making sure he doesn’t get the wrong person. “Jeonghan’s cousin?”

“You know Jeonghan?” you ask instead, not really answering him though that’s your way of basically saying yes.

“We might’ve met from time to time,” he shrugs.

Before you can say anything more, a familiar arm lays around your waist and you automatically lean into the touch. “Hey, sorry I got too long. Met Jinyoung’s friend and talked for a bit. And… this is?”

You know Wonwoo is pretending, because Wonwoo probably knows all the heirs of the companies that matter and is a possible partner for his father’s company. He’s more attuned to his company’s needs than you are, and you know Wonwoo knows who Soonyoung is--at least by name. He’s probably doing this because he thinks the guy is hitting on you.

“Kwon Soonyoung,” he introduces himself without hesitation. “Jeon Wonwoo, right? I’ve seen you both around at parties.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at this. So he’s seen you both together but still talks to you? He spares a glance at you, at which you just subtly shake your head to tell him all’s fine and Soonyoung isn’t doing anything weird. Wonwoo nods, but the protective arm around your waist doesn’t move.

“Right. Happy birthday to your grandfather,” he says politely.

“Thanks, the food’s pretty good, right?” Soonyoung grins, and you wonder if Soonyoung is really that proud about the overall food they’re serving or if he’s just making small talk. Nonetheless, you see this as your chance to ask about the catering service they’re using for this event.

“Oh, it’s actually my sister’s company,” he gleams with pride. “Are you interested in using her service?”

You chuckle amusedly at this; you’ve never seen someone from this society promoting their siblings’ business this way. Usually, people would just be pretentious and snottily offer a business card or something, being annoying about it in any way possible. Still, it’s a breath of fresh air and you honestly tell him that the chocolate mousse in your hand is the best you’ve ever tasted.

“It really is!” you laugh at Wonwoo’s questioning stare--because you don’t normally talk this much to a guy, or anyone you just meet, even though it’s essentially linked to your wish to probably use this catering place for future events. You take a spoonful from your precious dessert before holding the little spoon in front of his mouth. “I know you don’t like sweets, but this is dark chocolate, Won.”

Wonwoo looks at you hesitantly, but eventually gives in and opens his mouth so you can feed him the chocolate treat. Wonwoo’s ready to cringe, but instead hums in appreciation as the chocolate melts in his mouth. When he’s about to tell you it doesn’t taste as bad as he thought it would, you’re already looking at him with your ‘what did I tell you?’ face and a smug smile. So Wonwoo rolls his eyes and turns to Soonyoung instead, telling him his sister did a great job.

Soonyoung laughs, and happily nods his head in agreement. “I don’t have my sister’s business card with me. But here’s mine if you want to contact her through me.”

You half expect him to give his card to you, but he’s actually only giving it to Wonwoo. You wonder if this is his way of telling Wonwoo he means no harm towards you, that he isn’t here to flirt and all that.

“I… only have one card, it turns out,” he smiles sheepishly. “You both can share my card, I guess. But you can also just look up Lilac&Co on Google for my sister’s website.”

You decide you like Soonyoung. So you give him your phone and tell him to just put his number there, surprising not only Soonyoung himself but also Wonwoo beside you. If you haven’t been so taken on finding a new friend in Soonyoung after so long, you would’ve noticed the way Wonwoo’s grip tightens on your waist. But you just happily call Soonyoung with your phone so he has your number too, telling him you should hang out sometimes.

Just then, someone calls Soonyoung over, so he has to excuse himself from you and Wonwoo and says he’d love it if you guys can really find the time to hang out properly someday.

“He’s funny, isn’t he?” you grin to yourself.

“Huh,” he grumbles, not liking the way your eyes don’t leave his figure until Soonyoung’s out of sight. “Is he?”

You just look at Wonwoo pointedly. Maybe the fact that you two aren’t too keen on meeting new people is the reason why you’ve been friends for more than a decade--probably nearing two now, but Soonyoung seems like a fun person to be with and, if he manages not to make you roll your eyes in the span of five minutes, then he must be a decent enough person unless he’s just that good in hiding his pretentiousness.

Before either of you could say anything, Chaeyoung happily chirps in and joins you two by the dessert buffet. “Hey! Haven’t seen you guys since I’ve arrived.”

“Have you tried the mousse? They’re so good,” you tell her, and Chaeyoung is nothing but quick to snatch one from the table, already frowning in delight the moment the dessert goes into her mouth.

You both stay there to talk some more, with Wonwoo joining in from time to time though mostly he’s just there to listen. But, after some time, Wonwoo notices the way you’re fidgeting on your feet and suggests you move to the table so you can sit down and continue the talk there.

Wonwoo automatically scoots his chair closer to yours, just like the way your body immediately inclines to lean against his despite the chair between the two of you.

“Speaking of,” Chaeyoung suddenly stops talking and addresses Wonwoo, remembering something at the back of her mind. “Did you go to Golden Boat a few days ago for lunch? I think I saw you there with someone.”

Behind you, Wonwoo tenses a little; it’s so subtle--and you wouldn’t have noticed if you haven’t been sitting so close to the guy, but he stiffly shakes his head when you ask if he’s okay.

“Yeah. Needed to meet someone there because of my mom,” he answered after reassuring you he’s fine.

“Is it when you said your mom asked you to do something?” you question, remembering that day Wonwoo said he couldn’t have lunch with you. “Another date, huh?”

He nods, but doesn’t explain further. You don’t ask either, because there are times when Wonwoo just doesn’t feel like talking and he’s always reluctant to talk about the dates his Mom makes him go. You figure either his social battery is already out for the night, or he just doesn’t think it’s important to talk about.

You never really know how those dates go except that Wonwoo finds them bothersome and he only goes under certain circumstances. So, as you continue to converse with Chaeyoung about your next trip to Switzerland with her, you link your fingers with Wonwoo’s because that’s always something that calms him down since you were kids.

“Should we go back in a while?” you whisper when Chaeyoung’s busy stuffing her face with pasta.

“Your parents will say something again if you go back early,” he nudges you as he smiles a little. “Am fine. We can stay until the party ends.”

You hold his gaze, not buying it even a little. Furthermore, you’re pretty much used to your parents’ scolding so you don’t really mind getting the end of it once more if Wonwoo’s not feeling well. “We’ll go back in an hour at most, okay?”

Wonwoo simply scoffs in amusement, already knowing your mind is pretty much made. So he just nods as he squeezes your hand tighter, whispering a thank you as he gently bumps his head against yours.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever let go of you even if he could.

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any reposting, translation, and any other kind of redistribution of this fic. Please tell me if you’re aware of anyone doing this without my permission.

taglist: @hoe4wonwoo @dnylwoo @yslshua @twogyuu @najaemin138 @blueixnie

@boowanie@pwettytae@itsveronicaxxx@aphrodyteeth@leechanniee@jeoonghann@sdoulc@kyeomjjigae@ru-lin@listxn@justasoftstan@02psh @vynnz @yngreid @amymoonl @lilactangerine @lovelywoo @pusangmamon@yoontaedotin

#wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #seventeen scenario #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen au #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #my way to you masterlist #wonwoo fic #wonwoo scenario #svt fic #svt scenarios #wonwoo x you

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mackenzielovee · 3 years

Note

Omg your writing is novel material 😻😻😻!! Can you do a rafe x reader where there’s build up to the fact that he takes your v-card?? And is like all proud and cocky BC he loves the ~innocence~ but gentle at the same time :0000

a/n: hey babes!!! thank you so much for this request. I would have never written something like this on my own, but actually really enjoyed writing this. I hope I got it right, I tried to include it all in here!! Let me know what you think!

Warnings: swearing, sex scenes, mentions and conversations of losing virginity, and Rafe acting like a king

Word Count: 3.5k

my writing

my one and only - rafe cameron

You're laying on Rafe's bed, absentmindedly scrolling through your phone as you wait for him to finish his shower. He had invited you over, and when you showed up, he just told you to wait in his room and he'd be out in a bit. You huff, finally hearing the water shut off. You can't help but be annoyed - that boy uses up all the hot water before he gets out.

He swings open the bathroom door, a towel wrapped around his waist, and smirks at you. His chest is completely exposed and still slightly wet from his shower, and he watches as you shamelessly rake your eyes over every inch of his skin. You quickly forgive him for taking so long, because it's given you this view.

"Thought you might join me," he smirks at you, coming over to the bed and leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

"Thought you might hurry up since you knew I was waiting," you fire back, giving him a playful glare.

He laughs at you and steps to his dresser, removing his towel and sliding shorts on. You watch him and he knows you watch him, which makes him smirk. He doesn't even bother with his shirt, because with what he has planned, he won't need it.

He turns and jumps on the bed, laying himself down beside you. You grin at him as he does this, watching as he sits up, then grabs onto you and pulls you on top of him. He can already feel himself getting riled up, he's been with you for almost a month now and really, really wants to fuck you.

He immediately starts to kiss you, one hand on your waist and another traveling down your back. You kiss him back, loving the way he tastes. One of your hands goes into his hair, making him moan as you pull on it. His tongue pushes its way into your mouth, which you very much allow. He brings his hands down to your hips and starts moving you against him, moaning into your mouth at how good it already feels.

"Rafe," you groan, feeling your body as it gets excited.

He ignores you, bringing his lips down to your neck and kissing the skin in between your jaw and neck. You let out an involuntary moan, which only encourages him more. His hands travel under your shirt and grab the skin on your stomach, and when Rafe tries to pull your shirt off of you completely, you stop him.

"Rafe, we should chill out," you say, pulling away but staying on his lap.

He looks at you, not quite understanding why you're stopping him, but agrees. He lets out a frustrating groan, but doesn't speak.

You don't want to tell him you're a virgin. Not with how experienced Rafe is. You just believe in your heart that he'll be disappointed with your performance or your body - you're afraid he won't want you anymore if he knows the truth.

"What's going on with you?" he asks finally, afraid to even reach out and touch you because you might pull away from him again.

"What do you mean?"

Rafe licks his lips and sighs, not wanting to sound like an asshole for asking why you won't have sex with him. But every single time he tries to make a move, you deny him and cut him off. He at least wants to know why, or if he's doing something wrong.

"I just don't understand. I mean, I just took my entire fucking towel off in front of you, but you won't even let me see you with your shirt off. What is that? I mean, are you, like, not attracted to me or something?"

You shake your head immediately, "No, Rafe. That's not it, I just-"

"You just what, then?" he asks, meaning for it to come out more gentle than it does.

You take his harshness for impatience, and you wonder if you should just suck it up and give him what he wants. But the thought of losing him makes you afraid.

"I'm a virgin, Rafe," you whisper.

You climb off of his lap and then get up off the bed, sure this will be a dealbreaker for him. Rafe Cameron, you think, the party king and the guy who's probably had the most sex of anyone on the island, is not going to want to put up with your inexperienced ass.

"What?" he gasps, sure he heard you wrong.

You don't speak, you just pick up your phone, and then your bag from the floor. You don't hear Rafe get up from the bed, but when you start toward his bedroom door, he's rushing around to stop you.

"Where the hell are you going? Sit down, let's talk about this," he coaxes you, removing your bag from your shoulder and putting it back on the floor.

You sigh as he leads you back over to his bed, both of you sitting down on the side. He doesn't speak at first, mainly because he doesn't know what to say. You don't either, so the two of you sit in silence for a bit. He finally looks over at you, but his look isn't disgust or confusion. It almost looks like admiration.

"So," he starts, then stops, then starts again, "So, you're telling me-"

He stops himself again, not wanting to offend you or make you uncomfortable. To be honest, the idea of nobody touching you makes him feel like a damn god. Only if you'll let him be the first one.

"I've never had sex," you confirm, speaking slowly to make sure he understands.

"No, yeah, I got that part," he nods, "But, have you..."

"No," you answer. You're not sure what the question is, but you're sure that's your answer.

Rafe's your first real boyfriend, and you don't sleep around. Ever. Obviously. You don't believe in that. You want your first time for it all to be with someone you trust. Someone who will take care of you.

"And, like, is that a thing where you're waiting until marriage, or..." he trails off, afraid of your answer.

"No," you say quickly, watching his neck snap over to you, "I just want to... be with someone that I trust."

Rafe nods his head, not realizing that his eyes are literally taking in every inch of your body. He can't believe you've never been touched by another guy. He can't believe someone as attractive as you can be so pure and so innocent. It completely and totally turns him on.

"Do you trust me?" he asks you after a few minutes.

You look over to him and he looks at you, his eyes looking soft. You reach over and take his hand, then give him a smile.

"Of course," you say. He grins, the thought of him being your first literally makes his heart jump.

"So, I mean..." he trails off again, not knowing how to ask you without sounding like a horny douchebag.

"I want to, Rafe," you say, watching him smile, "I'm just nervous about it."

He nods his head, understanding completely. He brings his hand up and starts to rub your back gently to comfort you.

"I get it," he replies, "I'm right here to help you through it. And we don't have to do anything, not if you don't want to."

You smile up at him but shake your head, watching as Rafe lets out a breath of relief he didn't realize he was holding in.

"I'm just relieved that you're okay with it," you admit, "But I want to. I want to with you."

He feels as if he could fly right now as you say this. You want him to be the first, your first, to see you and touch you and kiss you all over. Just the thought of you makes him want to strip down right now.

"Of course I'm okay with it, baby," he smiles.

You lean in to give him a kiss, which he gladly returns.

Rafe takes you to lunch at the club later on, but he leans down and grabs the leg of your chair and pulls you around so you're sitting beside him at the table instead of across from him. He keeps his arm wrapped around the back of your chair. He hasn't stopped smiling since your conversation earlier. He looks around at the club, knowing that none of these dudes managed to get a girl who only wanted him. He feels like one lucky motherfucker.

He leans over and whispers in your ear as you two wait for your food, "You really want me to be your first?"

You blush immediately, knowing nobody heard but still looking around to be sure.

"Rafe," you hiss. He loves watching you squirm, but he really just wants to hear you say it again.

"You really do?" he asks again, biting his lip to hide his cocky grin.

You laugh, leaning over and kissing him quickly, "Yes, Rafe Cameron. I want you to be my first."

He grins against your lips, and you would've never thought in a million years he would be this cocky about the whole situation. Truly, you thought this boy would run for the hills.

"Holy shit," he mumbles to himself.

He leans forward in his seat and puts his hand on your leg under the table. You smile, loving the feeling of his skin on your own. He starts to gently run the base of his fingers up your leg, stopping about halfway up. He watches you take a deep breath, knowing he's getting to you.

"So," he leans over, whispering in your ear again, "You're telling me, nobody's hand has ever been here before?"

His voice comes out so dominant, so arrogant, and you love it. He knows exactly what he's doing to you.

You shake your head. He smirks against your ear, giving you a little kiss there. He starts inching his hand up again, watching as your breathing picks up. You can feel yourself getting excited, and little do you know, Rafe already is.

He stops his hand right where your shorts rest, wanting to curse as he looks down. They're so short, and you look so good in them.

"And here?" he asks quietly, his voice raspier now.

"No," you shake your head again, your voice coming out weak. That makes him grin.

"Hmm," he hums into your ear. He leans even closer to you, moving his hand up and unbuttoning your shorts.

"Rafe," you warn, getting uncomfortable with the fact that his hand is about to be inside your pants in a public area.

"Nobody's looking, just trust me," he whispers.

You try to relax, but are completely unable to. He wraps his other arm tighter around you, then carefully slides his hand underneath your shorts. He can feel through your underwear how excited he's made you, which only makes him grin. He shoves your underwear aside and traces his fingers along your core, making you gasp lightly when you feel the cold metal of his ring on you.

"What about here?" he asks you, smirking widely now as he watches the expression on your face.

"No, babe," you look over at him now, your eyes beading into his. He smirks and kisses you, a little rougher than usual, then pulls his hand out of your shorts.

"Just checking," he sits back in his chair now, completely content with himself.

You, on the other hand, already feel like a mess. You try your best to discreetly button your shorts, but every nerve in your body seems to be going crazy as you relive the feeling of his hands on you.

He watches you try to wipe the frazzled look on your face, but can't because you feel like every single person at the club knows what Rafe just did to you.

You sit back after a few minutes, relaxing as you convince yourself that nobody could actually see under the table and Rafe had been correct when he told you nobody was looking. To be honest, the feeling of him touching you did not compare to any feeling you have ever had in your life. You really, really wanted him to do it again. But maybe not at the club.

The next day, you go over to Rafe's just after dinner, and you finally have your head on straight. You honestly, truly want to have sex with him. You trust him with your heart, so you should trust him with your body, too. He invited you over to just hang out and watch a movie in his room, not bringing up sex at all. So neither had you. But you surely did plan on it.

Rafe's laying in his bed on his phone when you enter. He smiles up at you and stands, coming to give you a kiss.

"How was your day?" he asks you, setting your stuff down on the chair in the corner of his room.

"Fine," you shrug, "What about you?"

"Same," he replies.

He lays down on the bed and opens his arms for you to crawl in with him. He wraps both of his arms around you and holds onto you for a long time, neither of you saying a word. Having the presence of the other seems to work for the both of you.

"Rafe," you say after a while, afraid he's fallen asleep.

"Hmm?" he hums to you, sounding like he's getting sleepy.

"How does tonight sound?" you ask him, moving so your chin rests on his sternum as you stare up at him.

He opens one eye and looks down at you, trying to figure out if you're serious or not. When he believes you, he pops open his other eye, then brings his hand up to stroke your hair.

"I'm not pressuring you, baby. When you're ready," he replies.

You are silent only for a minute, then move your eyes back up to look at him.

"I'm ready now, Rafe."

His head snaps down at you, a grin forming at the corners of his mouth. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then relaxes again.

"Are you sure?" he asks, searching your eyes for even an ounce of hesitation.

"One hundred percent."

That's all he needed to hear. He grabs ahold of you and flips you over on the bed, crawling on top of you and attaching his lips to yours. His tongue quickly starts exploring your mouth. This time, you don't object when he pulls your shirt up off your body, and when he looks down at you, he groans and kisses you again.

Every move he makes feels even better than the last. You love watching as he removes his own clothes, as he kisses down your stomach, to your underwear, pulling them down. Every moan and sound you let out only feeds Rafe's ego, knowing no guy has ever made you make those sounds before. It's literally music to his ears.

His head is between your legs before you know it, and you moan as he leaves small, wet kisses on the inside of your thighs.

"Tell me again," he whispers against your leg, kissing you again.

"Rafe," you whimper, wanting him so bad.

"Tell me again, baby, and I'll take care of it."

You let out a frustrated sigh as you stare up at the ceiling. You have never felt this need, this hunger, this want, for anyone else in your entire life. You just want to feel him, everywhere. All over you.

"I want you to be my first, Rafe," you tell him, feeling him smile widely against the inside of your thigh.

It's just what he wants to hear as he moves his head a few inches over, and gets to work. He listens to every groan, every whimper, every moan of his name, and he fucking loves it. He vows to himself that he's the only man that will ever hear you make those sounds, and his name will be the only one you ever scream out.

When he's finished with you, he kisses back up your stomach, still able to taste you on his tongue. He finds his way back up to your lips, giving you a long, deep kiss in hopes that you can taste yourself on him.

He reaches over to his nightstand and opens the drawer, grabbing a condom from it without breaking your kiss. He puts it on himself, smirking at the idea of eventually teaching you how to do it for him, and then kisses you again.

"Rafe," you say again, the desperation audible in your voice.

"Are you sure, babe?" he asks you one more time, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

"Oh, my God, yes, Rafe," you nod your head. You've never been more sure of anything in your life. You know for a fact he will be taking such good care of you.

"Well," he smirks to himself, "You'll be saying that a few more times tonight."

You laugh and whack him on the chest, but you're sure he's right. If it feels half as good as what he had just done to you, you'll count yourself lucky.

You feel pressure and a bit of pain as he enters you, but are relieved when Rafe lets out a very loud, satisfied groan.

"Holy fuck," he swears.

You whimper, but keep yourself relaxed, knowing it will help it hurt less. He looks down at you and kisses you, moving extremely slow inside of you so as to not hurt you. He moves his head down into the crook of your neck, mumbling out more curse words.

"You okay?" he asks you after another minute.

"I'm okay," you confirm, the pain finally starting to subside.

"Just tell me when it starts to feel better, I'll go faster."

You nod but don't speak, just try to adjust to this new feeling. After another minute or so of him moving very slow, you tell him he can go faster. He obeys immediately, groaning and cursing even louder now.

"Jesus, baby, you feel so good," he tells you, making you smile.

Every fear you ever had about Rafe not wanting you goes away as you listen to the sounds he makes. After a few minutes, it starts to feel like heaven for you too, and Rafe feels relieved once you start moaning and telling him to move. The second you say his name, he spills everything he has into the condom.

When he pulls himself out of you, he's almost thankful that it was your first time, because he's embarrassed he didn't last long. You just felt so damn good around him.

"Oh, my God," he pants as he collapses beside you on the bed.

"I know," you agree.

He turns his head to look at you, watching your chest rise and fall with your breaths. You look so beautiful, and it's still so unreal to him that you chose to trust him with such an intimate moment of your life.

He reaches over and pulls your body into his, wrapping both of his arms around you and kissing your shoulder. You feel extremely lucky, like you definitely made the right choice on waiting for a guy like Rafe to come along.

"Thank you for trusting me," he whispers in your ear, then brings his lips down and kisses your neck over and over.

"Thank you for being so sweet and understanding," you smile, stroking your hand up and down his arm.

You turn around in his arms after a few minutes and stare at his face, taking in every single little detail you can find. His kind eyes, his sharp jawline, the way his hair gets in his eyes when he doesn't gel it back.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, smiling softly at you.

You know he's full of shit, but the comment makes your stomach turn. In a good way.

"Thank you," you reply.

"Do you regret it?" he asks you after a minute, afraid of your answer.

"Hell no," you smile at him, which makes him smile in return.

"Good," he laughs, "Because, just for the record, I plan on being your one and only. Never to be touched by another man as long as I shall live."

You set your head on his chest and giggle, feeling his arms pull you into him.

"Is that a marriage proposal?" you scoff.

He laughs, then looks down at you with a cheeky look in his eye.

"Maybe after round two," he said, then moves quickly out from under you to on top of you.

You laugh loudly, yelling out as he lands on you. Rafe Cameron can't remember the last time he was this happy. So yeah, he's pretty sure it'll turn into a marriage proposal. Married after dating for a month? Crazier things have happened in OBX.

#drew starkey #rafe outer banks #outerbanks netflix #outerbanks #outer banks netflix #outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe

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iguessitsjustme · 2 years

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Kinn is Not Good at Anything

I know that I am one of the minority here, but I don’t like Kinn. And it’s been bothering me, but I think I finally figured out why. Feel free to disagree with me, but just know that nothing you say will change my mind. I’m not going to like Kinn unless things start changing.

Kinn never actually tries. At anything. Ever. And how can Kinn be good at anything if he doesn’t even try? The most I’ve seen him try to do anything is when he’s sleeping with Porsche. But even then, Porsche is not in a position to say no to Kinn. In fact, he really can’t say no. So how often do you think Kinn pays attention to what Porsche likes in bed? If I were to guess, I’d say Kinn is a selfish lover, but I have no proof of that so I’m going to take this point off the table entirely.

In episode 9, Kinn doesn’t even try to make up his own mind about his people. Tawan’s back? He listens to his dad. Porsche acting weird? He’s listens to Tawan. He doesn’t even try to understand why Porsche might be weird about Tawan. Kinn can’t even see the OBVIOUS jealousy written all over Porsche. Not once in his relationship with Porsche has he had to lift a damn finger. Porsche is carrying the entire emotional labor for that relationship. Porsche planned the date. Porsche seeks out relationship advice (that he has to lie about his whereabouts to receive but that’s a different post). Porsche is the one that has been initiating sex. Porsche is the one opening up his heart and his life to Kinn and starting those conversations. Porsche is constantly trying. He wants to make it work despite all of the odds stacked against him. And Kinn has contributed nothing to the relationship so far except for his dick. I get Kinn has trust issues, but that doesn’t explain why the hell he can’t even notice Porsche trying so damn hard and Porsche being jealous when he’s smiling in a lighthearted way that Porsche has never seen and standing next to his ex.

Kinn doesn’t even have to try to be the leader. At least not right now. He seems to always just listen to what his dad says. Which is fair, his dad is the leader, but Kinn doesn’t put forth any effort towards one day taking on that mantle. He can’t even make up his own mind about his ex he thought was dead. He needed to have a whole discussion with his dad and Tankhun to even reluctantly make a decision (side note: everyone should listen to Tankhun’s instincts when it comes to who is trustworthy).

He let Vegas handle the issue of who kidnapped him (I'll give him the benefit of the doubt since he was recovering from being shot). But even after that, he doesn't even try to understand why Porsche would talk to Vegas. He does realize that as a bodyguard, Porsche can’t exactly tell Vegas to fuck off the way Kinn can, right? Or has he not thought about that at all. Porsche can’t tell the minor family no. And Kinn doesn’t even try to see why Porsche might want to talk to Vegas. Kinn knows Vegas is a snake, but what reason would Porsche have to take Kinn’s word on that. Vegas has put in work and time and effort to be nice to Porsche. Kinn has told Porsche the way things are but hasn’t lifted a single finger to actually explain it and show it to him. And let’s not even get into Porsche’s abysmal training. Did ANYONE actually try to train Porsche in how to be a bodyguard? Because it sure as hell seems like Porsche trained himself.

Kinn didn’t even have to try to earn Porsche’s forgiveness. He showed up, listened to Pete’s advice for 3 seconds and then immediately got him and Porsche kidnapped. Then all he had to do was keep them in handcuffs and force Porsche to be near him and to see the other side of him. Again, all of that was Porsche’s effort. Even them surviving in the forest. All Porsche.

Kinn just lets everyone else around him put in all of the effort and all of the work so he never has to actually think too hard about anything. I would like to see Kinn at least try at something, anything. But right now, I’m not seeing it and it’s annoying. He’s supposedly smart. I’ve never met a smart person that didn’t have to at least try. How is Kinn supposed to lead the mafia when he can’t even make his own decision about what to do with people that have betrayed him in the past? How is Kinn supposed to lead the mafia when he can’t even trust himself to put any effort into anything.

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #sorry if you like kinn but i do not #i love porsche though #the more i think about porsche the more i like him #he's such a fascinating character #i just wish the show treated him better #i just wish he was allowed to show any sort of negative emotion #he deserves that

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Sugar, Spice, and a Heart to Entice

AKA: Jango Fett speedruns a romance with someone who should be his enemy. (It's okay. We know he makes bad choices.)

Note: Ahsoka uses the pseudonym "Ashla" in this fic. Warnings: slavery, references to drug use, crude sex jokes, undressing of an unconscious person (for medical reasons)

----

The girl that they shove into the chains next to him is... worrying.

(Well, probably a girl--he'll adjust later if it turns out he's wrong.)

She's not that much younger than him, he thinks. It's hard to tell, with the way her skin is taut over muscle and bone, too little water and too little sleep, and probably not enough food for whatever labor she's been doing. He's also, admittedly, not great at gauging ages in the first place, and certainly not for Togruta. Still, he thinks it's safe to say that they're close in age, and that she's probably younger than him.

She's lucky, by some measure. The spice ship is terrible, but it's probably better than the fate tog girls are usually subject to in this industry. They're hazardous conditions, and violent ones, but Jango's yet to see a slave here stripped of their clothing for anything other than a whipping.

He thinks it's probably a matter of money. That kind of violation lowers the profit margins, he imagines. Spice is more lucrative than anything, and pain is a better motivator than... well.

So she's lucky, by that measure, and that measure alone.

They clap her in bindings before he even sees her, even though she's unconscious, and bring her sometime in the night cycle. Jango doesn't have a lot of pity left in him, but some goes out to her. He won't say she's too young for this, because nobody is ever old enough for slavery, nor do slavers have any compunctions about selling babes in arms, but Jango would wager she's already led a hard life.

She's fairly covered, but what little is visible shows enough old battle wounds that he can't imagine she's stayed off of battlefields. He knows how to read a Togruta's markings for stress history, too, and hers tell a story. Her facial marks are thin and delicate, and he'd say they're certainly more complex than the average; the striation on her lekku and montrals is thin and jagged, like marble. It's pretty enough, but it's also a sign of the fact that her life has likely been anything but easy. Some of it might be genetics, and he hopes it is, but with the scars he can see... he doubts it's much.

"Keep that one alive," the overseer orders, eyes on Jango and hand gesturing at the tog girl.

He leaves.

Jango isn't sure what they're hoping to get out of putting her with him. The room is built for four, yes, but they usually don't try to have anyone share with Jango. Maybe they ran out of room, or just assumed Jango was the most likely to know field medicine, or just figured there wouldn't be any trouble until she woke.

As he gets closer, his confusion grows. The tog's got burns all over, ugly ones that aren't going to heal cleanly without bacta. They're going to get infected, as likely as not. He hasn't got much besides water in here, but the overseer's left behind a box of what looks like bandages. If he's lucky, there's burn cream in there.

(He's not lucky.)

He works slowly, careful of every movement. He builds up a story in his head as he does, based on the wounds he finds and what he starts to notice of the clothing. He can't see all the details, not in what little light he has, but there's plenty to notice.

He hadn't realized, with how dim it is, but most of what she's got on as an outer layer is hardened leather, real leather, not synth. There are attachment points for armor at the shoulders and hips, and he thinks he sees signs of wear for vambraces and greaves. She's no Mando'verde, not with how he can see that the fabric at her torso and upper legs is intended to stay light and flexible and uncovered, but the crafting of the leather layers is familiar. He thinks she might have contacts among Mando armorers.

She might even wear beskar, if she's impressed the right person.

The wounds are recent, and unfamiliar, and he thinks she was probably fought into chains, rather than bought in them. She's a captive, not a purchase, or maybe... maybe they just found an unconscious woman, and decided that she was worth keeping.

He thinks she lost a fight, or won but with great injuries, and just... stumbled off and collapsed. He gets the feeling no one on board the ship could have fought this woman, except for himself. It's not based on much, not until he can see her move, but he's got good instincts for that sort of thing.

Jango keeps his assessment of her torso quick and clinical, not even bothering to mentally apologize for stripping her bare. This is medical, and he's not a doctor, not even a field medic, but he's professional nonetheless. Even though there's nothing in the box but bandages, not even the burn cream he'd hoped for, he'd still rather know if there's a broken rib to worry about. He doesn't want to wait for her to wake up and then find out she's got a punctured lung, even if he can't do anything about it. He finds bruising, but... he thinks that if anything is broken, it's hairline at most.

Lucky, he thinks again, in the unluckiest situations.

She doesn't wake that cycle. It's all he can do to get some water in her, dripped into her mouth in a trickle, but it's something.

----

When the Togruta girl wakes up, it's sudden. Jango is wiping down her lekku with a wet cloth in hopes of staving off a fever, kneeling next to the bunk. She opens her eyes, stiffens with a sharp breath, and then twists off the bed. Before he's fully processed this, her legs are up and around his neck, and then he's being wrenched to the side and onto the filthy ground, cheek grinding down into the grit. He feels a bony knee press into his spine, and the growl of a predator.

"Where am I?" the tog girl demands.

"Spice ship," he says, and oh but this place has ruined him for fights; he's having trouble breathing from whatever she's done to him, and she doesn't even have the use of her hands. "Deep space. You're in the slave cells. Don't mess with the collar, it'll explode if you try to remove it."

"Spice refinery?" she repeats, sounding completely baffled. He gives her a second to process, but she blindsides him. "Someone got me in their hands and they went for spice slavery?"

"As opposed to..." he really hopes she gets off soon.

She doesn't answer him immediately, and he can't get a look at her face. He gets his arms out to the sides, plants them to the floor, and shoves back. She doesn't fall off, but she does slide to the side to sit on the floor.

The expression she's got is best described as 'shell-shocked,' he thinks.

"You don't know me," she says, faint and confused. He shakes his head; he's pretty sure he'd have recognized her if he'd known her at all, given the time he's spent cleaning her wounds and trying to keep her alive. She laughs, breathless and a tad hysterical. "You don't--fuck. You don't know me. That's... great. Okay. Okay, I can work with that. Don't know how they missed it, but okay."

"Bounty on your head?" he guesses.

She smiles, thin and unpleasant. "Something like that."

"Thought as much. You're built like a fighter." He intends it as a compliment, but he doesn't think she takes it as one.

"I've never had a choice otherwise," she says, and when she next looks around, it's to find a place to sit. She pushes herself up to the thin mattress of the cot behind her, and Jango mirrors her on the cot across the room. It's not his bed, technically, but it's not like there's anyone to complain. She frowns at him; it's not a rude look, he thinks, but an attempt to put something unfamiliar in place. "What legion were you with?"

He blinks at her. He's been part of an army, but never one that big. "Legion?"

"Were you with special forces?" she tries again. "Or--wait, did you even get off Kamino before--"

"I'm not whoever you think I am," he tells her. "None of that means anything to me. I know what a legion is, but I've never had reason to be part of one."

"But you're..." she trails off, brow furrowed. "I guess just a similar face, then."

"To who?"

"The clones?" she hazards, as if that clears anything at all up. "I have no idea where we are; maybe the war holos never made it out far enough for you to know what they looked like..."

"Which war?" he asks, because he feels like he'd probably have heard of a war that used clones, especially one that had enough holos spread around for this woman to expect him to know what the clones in question look like.

"The... the clone war," she says hesitantly. "With the Separatists?"

None of that means anything to him.

It must show in his face, because her brow furrows, and her eyes go wide in a way he doesn't like. He can't tell if her skin's losing color or anything, but he's pretty sure the curl at the tip of one lek is a sign of anxiety. He's not sure how to help, but part of him already decided he liked this woman, just on the suspicion that she was friendly to Mandalorians.

(It's been a solid year and a half since Jango has had anything approaching a friend. He may be, subconsciously, a little desperate.)

"What's your name?" she asks, voice pitching in discomfort, and tight as a garotte.

"Jango Fett."

She closes her eyes, clenches her jaw, and... he can't see, can't know if she's trembling, but he thinks she is. She lets her head fall back against the wall, and breathes in sharply. It's a shaky breath, and he doesn't like that much, either.

"Fuck," she repeats. "No wonder--fuck."

He gives her a few seconds, but she doesn't elaborate. He asks another question instead. "Do I get to know your name?"

Her eyes crack open, and then she sits up straight and looks him over. Her lips purse, and she comes to some decision, though he's at a loss for what. "Call me Ashla. She/her, if you'd rather stick to Basic."

Fake name. Alright. She mentioned a bounty, so it's probably about that.

"Well met, Ashla."

She laughs, empty and painful. She swears in a mix of Huttese and Mando'a, and a few languages he doesn't even recognize. The Core accent on her Mando'a is strong, but he thinks whoever taught her might have been from Concord Dawn.

"How old are you, if you don't--"

"I'm twenty-one," she says. He was right; she's only two years younger than him. "At least... fuck, okay. What's the date?"

He tells her, and she screws up her brow and mouths something to herself. He's not entirely sure what.

"How long ago was..." she trails off.

"Was what?"

She presses a hand over her eyes. "I don't know what year it is."

Ah. Well, he can help with that much. He tells her that, too.

Ashla drops her hand. She visibly mulls it over, eyes on the underside of the bunk above her. He has no idea what she's thinking.

"Why aren't there other people in this room?"

"Weak ones couldn't sleep because I'm 'too intimidating,' and the rest kept trying to throw their weight around." He shrugs at the look she points his way. "I'm not dumb enough to start a fight with a bomb around my neck, but I'm not letting someone knock me around so they can earn a reputation."

She purses her lips, but lets it lie. "You let me take you down, then?"

"You had the advantage of surprise," he says, and doesn't bother to list every other advantage. She's better fed than he is, has spent less time in spice-suffused air, was unconscious and resting while he was awake to keep an eye on her fever. He's got the feeling she already knows.

When she speaks again, it's low and in fluent Mando'a, heavily accented though it may be.

"You'd get out of here eventually," she tells him, eyes half shut. "But you'll get out faster with my help, Mand'alor."

His stomach twists.

----

"They are either very stupid, or very cheap," Ashla mutters a day later, when he's supposedly helping her change some bandages. It gives him the excuse of leaning in close.

"Probably the former," he says.

She grins, and then stiffens and hisses out a low breath as he pours some of the stolen whiskey over one of the burns. It's not a real disinfectant, but it's the best they've got at the moment. Jango still isn't sure how she managed to get it from the overseers without them noticing, but he's quickly gotten the gist that she's a fair shot sneakier than he is.

"What did they do?" he asks, and she huffs out a laugh.

"I need you to promise you won't try to kill me," she says, and he stills.

She seems to be waiting on his response. Great. "That's not an auspicious start, Ashla."

"Eh, I've survived more than my fair share of people trying to kill me. No offense, bro, but I could take you," she says.

She's probably right in their current circumstances. "Let's hear it."

"I left the Jedi Order when I was seventeen."

The whiskey bottle slips from his fingers.

An invisible hand catches it, and it settles quietly on the floor of their cell. No guards will come running. It's a damning sight, for him.

A Jedi.

A Jedi who--who left.

Jedi committed Galidraan, but she left three years before that, but she was--was--

She has her back to him, trusting.

Or just arrogant.

She phrased it that way on purpose, phrased it so he'd know she left before he--before--

"I was framed by my friend for a terrorist attack," she says, and he can't find his voice to tell her to stop talking. "And sentenced to death by a non-Jedi military tribunal for it. By the time they figured out I wasn't guilty, I'd already been kicked out."

He forces his hands to his knees, grips at the bones that are too close to the skin, and orders himself to breathe.

Ashla turns on the spot, blinks at him. "I'm telling you this because it's how we're going to get out."

"Your people killed mine."

"I wasn't a Jedi when Galidraan happened," she says. There's more she wants to say, he's sure, but she keeps the words locked behind her teeth. That might be a good thing.

"And I'm just supposed to trust you?"

"Only for long enough to get out of here," she tells him. She shrugs, easy as anything. She's done this before, maybe. "Trust me, I have plenty of reasons to hate you, too, but I'm a little more concerned about getting this ship taken into custody, and having all the slaves freed."

"And you can just... make that happen."

"I told you, they're either stupid or skint," she says, with that same disarming grin. "I had lightsabers on me, and they kept them on the ship. They haven't drugged me since I woke up. They put me in normal cuffs, Jango."

He hates the way his name sounds on her tongue.

He hates the fact that he sees her plan already.

"You don't even need me," he points out, resisting the urge to try to kill her here and now. He doesn't have his armor. He doesn't have weapons. He's good, but she's got the Force and thighs that can crush a bantha skull.

"I'm not exactly... legit," she admits with a grimace. "Once you're back in Mandalorian space, you at least have an identity. People that will give you a place to stay. A chain code."

"And you don't."

She smiles, brittle. "Give me a week to scope out what I need and get us out of here, and maybe I'll explain."

A week. Fine.

And once they're out of here, and he has a blaster and a meal and a good night's sleep, he'll handle her.

----

He hates the fact that he likes her, still. People had already noticed, even just one day in. The first time someone notices he's giving Ashla the cold shoulder in the workroom, they joke at him about her not putting out. He's known her one day, and they think--

He stops the thought in its tracks.

Jango doesn't start fights here, but he is tempted.

"Oh, he wouldn't dare," Ashla simpers, sweet as spun sugar. "I bite."

She smiles, every pearly white tooth on display. The fangs near glint in the light. She eyes the speaker, squeezes the tool in her hand. Her tendons strain, but the metal bends with a creak.

The overseer shouts for them to get back to work.

Jango steps closer to her, lets his elbows brush against hers, and glares off anyone that tries to get too close.

"I don't need protection," she mutters to him from the corner of her mouth.

"I keep my word," he replies, hating himself for it.

He said he'd have her back. He may hate what she is, but... she left the Order. She's not a Jedi anymore. If he thinks it enough, he can believe it.

----

There's always a camaraderie in shared suffering. Jango is aware of this, and he feels his fondness for Ashla grow against his better judgment. They're both slaves on a spice ship, and he can't change that. It makes him tolerate her more than he sensibly should.

She acts like a Mando soldier, sometimes. She's not at all like Haat Mando'ade, but she knows some of the jokes that Mandalorians grow up with. She walks like a woman used to beskar'gam. She knows a drinking song or two.

(They don't waste the whiskey. It's for injuries, not intoxication.)

"I had brothers, once," she tells him, late at night. "A lot of them. They had a Mandalorian parent, sort of, but he'd never seen fit to really... let them have the culture. I lost them all, mostly to slave chips, and a few to just normal deaths, but... I learned what I could about Mandalore, after, for their sake. In their memory."

It's not a terrible reason, he thinks.

"Irony for you to end up in chains, then," he mumbles, and she barks out a sharp laugh.

"Tradition, more like," she says, and explains before he can ask for her to keep talking. "My... teacher was born a slave, and I... have a suspicion he ended up back in chains after we lost contact. His teacher was enslaved at least twice that I know of."

"Shitty tradition," he says, because there's nothing else he can think of.

"Could be worse," she tells him. This time, she doesn't elaborate.

----

He likes her more than he should.

----

He likes her so, so, so much more than he should.

----

She steals datachips when nobody's looking, using the Force instead of her fingers. She wraps dismissal around her like a cloak to access computer terminals without anyone but Jango noticing. She slips spice into the drinks held by guards and overseers.

She moves through the ship like smoke, in the dim lights of the false night.

Someone notices. Someone always notices, in Jango's experience, but they have no idea who's doing it. They lock down the cells for the sleep cycle, turn down the temperature, leave all the slaves shivering in their beds.

He pulls Ashla into his cot without hesitation, fits their bodies together to conserve heat, and ignores the rest. They're both soldiers; there's no shame in survival for those like them. The lekku at her back drapes over his neck like a scarf, and he almost wants to laugh.

He's pathetic. His men would be so damn disappointed in him, sharing bunk with a Jedi.

"You're thinking too loud," she mumbles, shifting somehow closer. The chill clings, creeping in through the thin clothes and thinner blanket, but he feels like it's bearable with Ashla here.

----

When they enact the plan, it's so much quieter than Jango would have run it. Ashla holds his hands in the early morning, before anyone is awake, and smiles. When she closes her eyes, sinking into a light meditation, the collar around her neck just... comes apart. Nuts and bolts and curves of metal float about her like a wretched parody of the mobile hanging above an infant's crib, and then land quietly on the nearest cot. When she opens her eyes, hazy and distant, she looks at his throat, and frees him with a thought.

It's a heady thing, freedom.

"Come along, Fett," she goads, almost crooning the words, backing out of the cell with his hands in hers. Nobody is awake yet, or at least they shouldn't be. Her words curl in the air like something cloyingly too-sweet, and he's sure it's her way of trying to piss him off. It's only working a little. "We've work to do."

Said work involves slipping past guards with a Jedi's timing, commanding them to sleep with a whisper and a poke to the forehead, and drugging the ones that she claims are resistant to Jedi tricks. The work is, as such, mostly hers to do. They hide the bodies, but the alarm goes off by the time they get to the weapons locker.

That's fine, because the weapons locker is where they were headed.

"Oh, hell yes," she hisses through a grit-tooth grin, and a matched pair of lightsabers float to her. Jango turns off the energy field by the time they reach her, and she hooks them onto her belt. Beskar plating follows, exactly the pieces that Jango had guessed from wear and tear. It's real beskar, too, not even an alloy, and Jango doesn't ask the questions on the tip of his tongue. She straps it on in practiced movements, without hesitation and almost without thought.

"See anything better than what you got off the guards?" she asks him. "Or did they all take the best blasters for themselves?"

"The latter," he says.

(His eyes trace over the armor she wears, and while she does wear it well... he's jealous.)

(He misses his armor.)

(Envy is unbecoming of anyone, but he thinks he can be afforded a little leeway.)

There are people in the hall by the time they exit, a dozen blasters at the ready.

The people in the hall are... not a problem.

Ashla had called it the Sword and Shield maneuver, when walking him through her experiences working in a Mando/Jetii team. He'd laughed, because the saber was the shield. She'd smiled at him, and he'd cursed himself for it.

If he'd had his armor, they'd have been able to move forward as a pair of unstoppable monsters. As it stands, they're... still doing that, really, just a tad slower.

"You're a Jedi!" one of them shouts. "You're supposed to be diplomats! You're not supposed to kill!"

Jango could laugh at that horrible, horrible lie.

"I am no Jedi," Ashla says, and the words cut through the air like something she's said a million times, and will say a million more.

Jango could do a lot with that line, tucked away in his memories for later.

There's a moment, though, where they're stuck at one end of a hallway, and the door to the bridge is just on the other side, and Ashla grins at him, a challenge in every inch of her body, and asks, "You wanna see something cool?"

He can't help it.

"You planning to show off, Jedi?" He can say the word without flinching, and it's... absurd. It's absurd. What in all the hells is she doing to him?

(He's been told that war makes for strange bedfellows, but he's long known that trauma does the same.)

He takes cover when she moves, and oh, does she move.

Ashla's a whirlwind, dangerous as anything and beautiful in her careful, precise violence. She knocks people out, more often than not, but there's more then one dead body left in her wake. It appeals to something in him. She flips and twists and throws people with the Force. She slices and kicks, and smacks people across the face with the blasters she lifts of their comrades. She headbutts at least two people, and then jumps to bounce off the ceiling and back down so she can land feet first on an enemy.

He hopes he'll get his common sense back when he's had time to put himself together, because the sight of those sabers doesn't make him flinch. After all he's been through, after all his nightmares, it really should. The sound alone should have him shivery and shooting.

Maybe there's just too much spice in the air.

A head drops to the floor in a different direction from the body it had previously been attached to. Jango's throat goes dry in response.

When Ashla stands at the end of the hall, a saber in each hand and the floor behind her littered in both bodies breathing and bodies bereft of life, she looks back at him over her shoulder. She deactivates her swords, and smirks. She's smug, and she makes smug look very, very good.

"So," she says. "Verdict?"

Fuck.

----

The bridge is easy enough to handle. They land the ship on a Republic planet, one with relevant authorities and at least some reputation for actually handling things with a degree of kindness and transparency. Ashla does the talking, letting Jango lurk behind her. She lies.

"Half-truths," she later tells him, in a low voice. The smile she wears is amused and self-assured, just a twist at the corner, and the slightest of pouts. He can't see it, when she leans in to murmur in his ear. "I certainly used to be a Jedi. They don't need to know this wasn't an officially-sanctioned infiltration."

Her breath hits lightly against his ear, and he wants--he wants--

"Have a comm code for any old friends?" Ashla asks, stepping away. Her face twists unpleasantly. Frustration, he's sure. "I've got credits, but no contacts."

He eyes the little pack she's got around her waist. "Stole that from the slavers?"

"We'll consider it payment for services rendered," she tells him, with an impish grin Jango wants to kiss off of her face, because apparently he's kriffing suicidal and wants to bed a Jedi. "I'll give you most of it, if you want. Call it the two years of backpay they owed you."

He snorts before he can stop himself. "Just one year, sorry."

"Oh, it's hazard pay," she insists, blinking innocently. "Dangerous conditions having been what they were, of course."

She presses a comm--probably also stolen--and a few credits into his hand, then loops her arm through his. She sets off at a lazy walk, ignoring the people who stare at them with distaste and disgust. "We'll find a hotel. We'll shower, with real water, and fancy soaps, and a little sonic just for the clothes. I'll run out and get you a basic outfit, and then we can go shopping, and once that's done, and you've had a chance to comm a companion, we can reunite you with your buddies, and you can go hunting for your armor, and I'll split and--"

"Stay."

She tilts her head at him, though she doesn't stop walking, and he feels his face burn. He hopes it's not visible. She hums lowly. He can't learn anything from it. "You hate Jedi, though, and I might not really be one anymore, but I'm still more Jedi than not."

"You wear beskar and speak Mando'a," he says. "You helped the Mand'alor. You're halfway to being one of mine already."

"One of yours, huh?" she mutters, eyes somewhere distant. He doesn't know what it is that she's seeing, but he's gotten used to it. "Alright, let's have this conversation again after you've had some sleep and clothes and a good meal, yeah?"

He can take that compromise.

----

"What do you mean, you're from the future?!"

#Jangosoka #time travel #Jango Fett #Ahsoka Tano #slavery tw #drugs tw #Phoenix Posts #I wrote this on a whim a few days ago but didn't get it edited until today #anyway have a nonsense

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mochikeiji · 3 years

Text

Exact Replica

Request: "Hi! I really love you're writing and was wondering if you could do prompt 25+29 for Kuroo Tetsuro from Haikyuu? And could it be angst to fluff? (Maybe Kuroo was ignoring the reader due to lots of work/stress so reader feels neglected?) It's totally up to you tho! Ty so much!!"

25. "Would you notice if I was gone?"

29. "I didn't mean it."

↠ Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x F!Reader

↠ Warning: angst to fluff, mentions of pregnancy and kuroo's sad childhood

↬ Word Count: 3.7k

↠ a/n: okay this is my longest one yet. I swear the prompt screams angst to fluff so much that I go into it.

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event

Kuroo Tetsuro achieved many great things in life after graduating from his university, with multiple acknowledgements and honors. Landed a position as a young CEO from a sports association at the age of 24, he had enough money in his pocket and bank to stable both of you financially. Life was good to him after having to build from the roots of his ruined childhood; the only years of defeat Kuroo doesn't ever want to repeat. His father and mother were in the same position as you both are; owning your own shared house, good working environment, investments and stability, married.

Up until this day Kuroo questions why his parents split. They were fortunate that they had every thing completed, sadly it was the family and love that wasn't taken care of. You could be the happiest person, yet the void inside would still be there, Kuroo thought. Foolish people were to neglect something more valuable than any object that is given. Whether it was his father or his mother that stopped nurturing what they both bonded for the longest time, they were both fools to let each other go over something simple. He vows to never let history repeat itself.

But now the tables seemed to have flipped for the both of you. Your lives not far from what he had ran away from. If Kuroo could eat his words back, he would've now that he was running late yet again to coming home, forgetting about the promise he swore to about joining you after a full month of being occupied in his office. Coming home to have you already tucked in bed, but suffering in silence.

Most days he didn't bother greeting you in the morning and night. As a good wife, you understand. He was a busy man with an important position to maintain.

There were times where you'd be tapping your foot down on the floor as the clock strikes at an ungodly hour with your messages still not bothered to be replied to or even read. But you understand. He's working! Always doing what he can for the both of you like the good husband he wanted to be.

Even if sometimes he'd come home without a kiss or a simple, "I missed you." you understand. He's drained. No time for silly, endearing affections. You've done them a lot before back when you were younger. You're adults! Married! A married partner shouldn't be feeling so needy when the other was only doing their part.

Even when sometimes your insecurities would kick in whenever you'd visit your husband to drop his forgotten lunch again, only to see him flocked by different women; probably secretaries, interns, and assistance.

You understand. You always did took such good care of what you two have.

Well had.

His home office door slams shut, awakening you from your nap on the couch. Didn't Kuroo notice you when he walked in? Looking at the clock you noticed it was near 11:30 PM since he's arrived. Late again, maybe he hasn't eaten anything? No worries, you thought sadly. Stretching your aching muscles, you made your way to the dining area. So far dinner was left untouched once more. Just how many times has it gone to waste because you continued on cooking for two?

Or rather, three.

You beam at the sudden reminder while preparing your husband's plate. You'd always miss him whenever he'd come home, never had the chance to surprise him at the right time of your little discovery about a week ago. Fear did struck you because of the possible reactions he'd give, but you were so excited in sharing the news that a couple would share the equal happiness from, you couldn't contain it any longer.

Maybe you should've chosen another time unbeknownst to you how your husband was hunched over his desk, clearly in displease of the previous events that had occurred during the meeting back in his office. Hence why his work stack added more piles of predicaments, only fueling his headaches more wishing he could just lay down peace and quiet without disturbance.

He grumbles at the knock on his door, only typing furiously with emphasized taps on the keyboard. You, not sensing the emitting aura from the room took it as a response for you to enter. It surprised you a bit on how disordered his home office had become. It was obvious his coat had been thrown carelessly as it lays on the floor, wrinkled. Carefully placing the plate full of food on the small coffee table at the side, you gingerly picked up the article of clothing. Lightly trying to smoothen out the lines before hanging it behind his door and turning back to your husband.

"Tetsu?" cautiously calling out his name, you were kind of wary at the fact he didn't turn to see you unlike he does before whenever you'd enter the room. "I brought you your dinner. You came home pretty late." you tried to maintain the light hearted tone of your voice to hide how nervous you were in telling him the big news.

The atmosphere was kind of eerie when all he did was hum meekly from your words. Feeling a bit disheartened from his lack of attentiveness, still forcing a smile, you padded a little closer behind him with your hands clasps together. "I also wanted— well needed to tell you something." averting your eyes away from him as you prepared in your head. With a small hope he'd turn around for once after a long time.

"Can it be another time? I'm in the middle of stuff here."

Another time.

Why is it always next time? It's frustrating enough to not see him or have him speak to you even for a moment, but this made your stomach churn in an unpleasant way. Frowning at his poor reply, you gulped a few of your sentence back. Not fully trusting your emotions getting in the way, "You never really talked to me before, Tetsu.. I get that you're busy, but it wouldn't hurt for you to give a little minute for me."

Even just a second as long as he'd finally notice you.

"(Y/n) if you understand then why bother? You can clearly see I'm busy." chest huffing out a harsh sigh, still not bothering to turn around. Gripping your hands tightly, your patience were starting to snap. "You're always busy, Tetsu! I never had a proper conversation with you again." raising the volume of your voice a little made his actions come to a halt. Chair revolving around to face you. His appearance made it obvious how exhausted he has been; tousled hair that he usually takes longer to style, the light forming bags underneath his eyes from the screen and lack of sleep. The visible annoyance marked in his expression. But couldn't he say the same for you?

"Fine. Here, you have my attention now. Are we talking properly now?" his way of provoking you wasn't in the right place. It only made you look at him in disbelief because you've grown to never meet such side of your husband before. The news you had originally planned to share vanished from your head, replaced with the restrained emotions that has been building up inside your heart, tipping over.

"Tetsu, what is wrong with you?" looking at him now seemed like you were talking to someone else. His words were curt and short with no intention of prolonging the conversation, itching to get back to work so he could be done with it. "I already you I'm just busy. I would be done by now if you didn't want to talk properly with me." he says as if he's the one in distraught. "Seriously, nothing's wrong but I think you aren't. You're never like this."

"That's because you never cared to noticed in the first place!" wailing out the collapsed emotions that has weighed you heavily. It was too late to stop yourself from voicing out the things your husband left aside. A full month of being a good, understanding image of a wife thrown away to the rubbles without even appreciating the the long nights of you waiting up for him, cooking meals even though the next day they'd end up being in the trash, tolerating the coldness of the used to be warm sheets, putting up with the insecurities you took upon yourself to hide to avoid troubling your husband further when all you wanted was for him to assure you that he still loves you and only you.

The fascade you put up just for him crumbles. And it infuriates you more of how he still doesn't notice.

"(Y/n), you know I've been working! There's so much stuff that needs to be attended for just so you and I could live normally!"

"Tetsuro, we are stabled, it's okay to slow down a bit. How is this any normal to you when you don't even realize how this affects me?!"

The chair slides back roughly against the floor with a loud creak as he towers over you. Glowering eyes with a dark expression looming over his face, clearly now enraged. "You're being selfish right now. I'm here doing what I can to support us and all you could think of was you, you, you. Can't you see I'm doing this for you as well? God what else do you want from me, the world?"

"I only wanted you to give me your time and attention even just for a second, Tetsuro! I've been doing my best for you all this month and I never said anything to trouble you!"

It hurts when he said how you were being the selfish one when it was the opposite. It dawned to you that all those days of giving your all for him wasn't once noticed. "Will you ever grow up already? Attention? Really? We're adults, (Y/n) not teenagers for fucks sake. My time is just wasted because of you!" he doesn't stop there even if you've had your mouth already shut from how he portrayed you as. His words were beginning to leave a deep scar in you as you quiet down to the next line.

"If you think that nothing is troubling me, there is! And you just happen to add in for crying out loud!"

There were no words exchanged after his meltdown. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looks away from you— who's eyes were already watery. Unable to even tell your side anymore at the ache of your heart. "So..I'm just troubling you then?" quivering out your words, Kuroo clenches his jaw as the bubbling frustration was being held back with the last bit of restrain he had.

"Would you notice if I was gone, Tetsu?"

Instead of being alarmed by your chosen form of sentence, you watched with sad eyes as your husband pulled back his chair and faced his workload. He didn't even noticed you're already crying silently, "Not now, (Y/n). We'll talk later."

He doesn't even noticed how you walked out sobbing with a shattered heart nor the door in the living room closing. Leaving him alone for the next few hours in peace like he wanted.

Time went on quickly when one doesn't take their eyes off from their consecutive workaholic state. With a groan, he almost slams his laptop shut before stretching his bones, slowly relaxing the tense muscles. It's up to his co workers and assistance to deal with the load he's prepared to dump onto them after they threw all theirs to him. Hoping to freshen up his face, Kuroo tidies his desk up before making his way to the door. Stopping in realization of the now cold dinner that was left on the coffee table.

His stomach growled loudly at the lack of food it's digested in the longest run. It was still good if he heats it up, he does miss eating home made meals than his stale ones back in the cafeteria of his workplace. Grabbing the plate carefully he first made a short journey to the kitchen to heat up his food. Unusual it was to have all the lights out in the house. You'd always leave some opened when he was awake. Then again the guilt started to crawl up to his chest knowing he's the cause of why you'd forgotten.

Now entering the bathroom with water running down his face, he plans ahead the apology he owes you when he wakes up tomorrow morning. He could reschedule his own time since he is the boss. He closes the faucet right after he was done rinsing. Looking around for the towel his eyes caught something below the small organizer you put up next to the sink. Grabbing the towel above the first part of the organizer, bending down slowly to avoid getting cramps, his actions were quick to grab the object that caught his attention the moment it seemed so familiar and surprising.

Pregnancy test. Two lines for positive.

Having a child with you was the last thing he's yet to accomplish from his list, and here it was. As much as he wanted to be in denial, it all felt like surge of contentment drowns him in because he was going to be a dad. However his body began to tremble whilst still holding the test and staring intently at it. The previous guilt that was crawling beneath his bones became a dark, desolated hole of anxiety and fear that ate him whole. The things he's said and done will never be taken back no matter how he apologizes to the past events a few hours ago.

Hours ago. It was already 2:25 when the fight had ceased. Deep down he knows he couldn't wait until the next day to plead for forgiveness. After all, he did vow to never leave you both a day feeling heavy alone. Kuroo felt nauseous of how much of an asshole he had treated you. Like starting a game of volleyball once more, he was beyond nervous when he approached your shared bedroom. There was no excuse of his actions indeed as he solemnly enters the dimmed room. He sighs a little shaky when he closes in your bed, "Baby?" he starts, "Baby, are you awake?" it was one of the little things he's memorized that you'd do when you both aren't in good terms. You never really slept, just pretended because you always had the heart to wait up for him.

When he gets no response he reaches out to pat you, only coming to the sense that the sheets were left untouched; no warmth traced behind. You weren't there, any where. His blood runs cold and immediately fishes out for his phone in his pocket, speed dialing your number while he circles the entire area of the house in case you'd be there. Now he was more terrified when he hears the familiar voice mail from the living room couch where you had slept while waiting for him.

You left your phone. His wife wasn't home— his pregnant wife.

"Fuck." running a rough hand through his tangled hair. The lump on his throat grows but he refuses to let out a string of sobs. It was his fault you were gone at such an ungodly hour. Kuroo felt more than a bigger asshole than before he's made you come to the point of leaving home. Just as his mother did and never returned. The one thing he swore you two would never be the same came to life, only thought now is Kuroo doesn't know whether you've left him for good after being a neglectful husband and to have dishearten his own beloved wife like that.

"Would you notice if I was gone?"

Rang in his head as he stood outside the neighborhood, running. Chasing after a hallucinated image of you any place he tried to remember you'd be in. A fool he has been to have left you in a loveless marriage. He loves you, he really does. He can't imagine a life without you in it. Just as it was about to become the happiest he's wanted, he pushed it all too soon. A bad husband, he cries. "(Y/n), please come home." legs aching and panting from having to study all areas. It was pitch black; there were no opened spots for you to even go at an hour of slumber and chaos. The only convenient store did not even have you in it. You were no where to be seen and Kuroo breaks.

Of course he'd notice when it was all too late. The past he's ran away from was still the place he's returned now that the house was only occupied by nothing but rotten memories of the love he didn't took care of. The exact replica of a married life he desperately tried to dodge. "I'm so sorry." for the lonely nights he's left you to sleep, over thinking of what may have been your fault and always figuring him out tirelessly. For the small efforts of adoration he didn't took a glance at and gone to waste. For the words that were never even meant for you to ever feel. For being a neglectful husband. He was sorry he noticed too late how he ruined his precious wife.

Now he's left you on your own out in the dangers outside. If anything horrible happened to you he will forever be crushed. But the world thinks that second chances are given to those who truly deserve them after you came in quietly, slipping off your sandals and waving back to your friend who had dropped you off home. Your short break to the convenient store changed when you met up with her and drove back to her place to rant about what happened. Being the sluggish person you are whenever sadness hits, you never noticed how long you've over stayed. It wasn't like your husband was going to know if he still was working.

Much to your surprise that he wasn't, you stifled a gasp to find him with his hands holding his head that was leaned down on the table. His shoulders were lightly jolting with escapes of audible sniffles, indicating that he was in fact crying. If he looked exhausted before, it wasn't enough to describe his current state; as if he was a man who'd lost every thing as he sat there with all hope lost. Your foot padded on the creaky part of the floor in attempt to tiptoe over his hunched back to comfort him. Squeaking in the awkward situation you've put the room in when Kuroo turns his head behind to see you standing there a bit frightened, but concerned when you saw how disheveled his face looks.

"Tetsu—" his name got cut off short from when you almost tripped over your balance at the sudden impact of Kuroo throwing himself into your arms with his weight. You couldn't make out what he was mumbling on about, but you melt to his embrace even if he squeezes the living day lights from you, afraid that he was going crazy and you weren't real. "Thank God," litters of kisses were placed on your clavicle, "You're back."

He repeats, slowly convincing himself that you are indeed home in his arms, safe, no harm detected. Just home. "I'm so sorry.."

"I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of what I said, I-I'm so sorry." your bodies swayed gently to the sound of your hushes and his cries of apologies. "Please don't leave me like that again. I was so scared."

"Shhh, it's okay, Tetsu. I'm sorry. I'm okay— we're okay." leading him to sit down at the couch, you placed the bag of different brands of sweets and junk on the table before facing your husband. You had to stifle in a laugh watching him wipe his nose, you couldn't help but be reminded of a mini Tetsuro by looking at him. The argument that stung you faded when he took a hold of your hands and mumbled another apology.

"You shouldn't be sorry for anything. I should be.." flickering his eyes from your belly to your bloodshot eyes from your own fiasco back in your friend's place, he slides in closer next to you where your shoulders touched. "I haven't been a good husband lately, have I?" he looks at you expectantly. Frowning, you still nodded. Tired of hiding your own feelings from him.

"I know you're busy most of the time, Tetsu. But I just wanted you to recognize me as your wife." thumbs quick to swipe away the tear that had shed from your eye, "We're in this together, remember?" he pulls you right from the arm, shoving your face to his chest in need to hold you for all the times he should've. Ignoring the dampness of his white long-sleeved polo, breathing in the scent of your sweet shampoo. You were still so forgiving and understanding despite on how equally tired as he was you are.

"I'm so sorry I've made you feel as if I never cared anymore. You never deserved that." his lips found it's way to the crown of your head. "I don't deserve you, and I really don't want to lose you after me being stupid." giggling through tears, fist connecting a soft punch on his chest, bubbling a chuckle to the surface as he lightly pulls you away from hiding.

"I really didn't mean all of those things I've said, baby. I love you and only you." stroking ever so lovingly your cheek, you don't catch on to the fact that his other hand was placed over your stomach protectively. Making a silent promise to not only you, but the soon to be new addition to the family that he will never again neglect what he should've cherished more and looked after than the constant worries at the back of his head.

Because he will never again repeat the replica of a broken family he once was born in.

#haikyuu kuroo #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x (y/n)#kuroo testuro #kuroo angst #kuroo fluff #hq kuroo #kuroo imagine #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #raines: gogatsu event

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