#i should probably try to finish this thing quickly so i can post it while the readership for sylki fics is still in double figures... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gguk-n · 7 months ago

Note

could you maybe wanna write a charles x doctor!reader fanfic where charles raced while not feeling well even though you said he shouldn’t and after the race that he finished on podium he fainted? and then he was like in hospital and had surgery and then was completely high after the surgery?

thank you in advance ♥️♥️♥️

Set in Saudi Arabian Grand Prix 2024, Charles gets appendicitis but races. established relationship. Hope you like it!!

Against Doctor's Orders

It was the Saudi Arabian grand prix, only the second race in the season and Charles hadn't been feeling too well through out the weekend. Nothing too serious he thought, probably a stomach bug since he travelled so much. "Char, you look pale" his girlfriend asked through the phone. "I'll be fine" Charles responded. "You should rest" she tried to insist. "I'm good, really" Charles forced a smile. "Not convincing me. Should've been there" she sighed. "I know you would've if you could" Charles consoled. "I'll be back on Monday and you can play doctor as much as you'd like" Charles laughed. "Play doctor" she asked in disbelief before bursting into a laugh. "Take care. Good luck. If there's anything call me and take the meds I told you too, those should help with the nausea" she said. "I will Dr. Y/L/N" Charles smiled before cutting the call.

Y/N couldn't be here and part of Charles just wanted to be babied but he couldn't be since the race was in a couple of hours. He got on track and started getting everything ready for the race. "You look paler than yesterday" Fred pointed out. "I'm fine" Charles brushed him off, going over the stats before the race.

Saudi Arabian GP was one of the hottest races but since it was during the night, the weather had started to settle down. The breeze from the sea side made the pain in his lower abdomen bearable.

As the lights turned green, Charles hit the accelerator; trying to forget the throbbing pain in his stomach or the way he thought bile would come out of his mouth every time the car turned. He kept his eyes on the track and the focus on the race. He could barely swallow any water without wanting to puke so he decided to forgo any water for the race. As the final laps of the race approached, Charles was still in a podium finish, which he thought was impressive since he felt like he was going to die any moment. When the checkered flag waved and he finished third, Charles sat in the car for a moment before he could gather any energy to pull himself out; the team kind of pulled him out of the car.

He had to drag himself to get done with the formalities before the podium, unable to speak since he felt like puking and the pain in his abdomen had gotten 10 time worse. He thought his stomach was being twisted and turned every way around. At the third step of the podium, Max assisted Charles to climb up since he looked like he was in pain. "You okay" Max quickly mouthed to which Charles just nodded trying to maintain his balance. As they were about to start distributing the trophies, Charles fell forward and fainted on the podium. Having drivers with quick reflex is a good thing, since Max was able to catch him before he hit the floor unceremoniously and was taken to the medic.

After looking at him and an unconscious Charles who couldn't answer them, they had him transferred to the hospital. Y/N watched this on the TV when she was watching the race. Her heart almost stopped when she saw Charles faint and started making calls to the team. She was busy packing her stuff to leave for the airport when Ferrari informed her that Charles was going into surgery because of his appendix. She told them she would be there by the time he woke up and quickly left the house.

A couple of hours of plane ride later and post surgery Charles was starting to wake up. Y/N had rushed to the hospital from the airport and her luggage was sat at the corner of the room. Her hands were wrapped around Charles's as he began to stir. "Hey" she cooed. "HI" Charles replied groggily, surely still high from the pain meds and anaesthesia. "You're pretty" he giggled. She smiled, "You're lucky you're cute" she sighed. "You think I'm cute" Charles giggled again. "I'm gonna go get the doctor to check on you" she said letting go of his hand. "My girlfriend's a doctor. She can check on me" Charles stated. "Babe, I'm your girlfriend and I can't since I didn't go over your case" she laughed. "You're my girlfriend?" he asked shocked. "Who did you think I was?" she laughed. "The pretty girl" Charles continued giggling to himself. Y/N slipped away for the doctors to come and check on him. After the doctors checked him, making sure he was okay and recovering well; they explained everything to Y/N.

"You need to be more careful and listen to me next time" Y/N stated. Charles just nodded. "I have a pretty girlfriend" he sang. "Couple more hours before he's out of it" she sighed and kissed his cheek relieved that he was okay. "I'm sorry for worrying you" he pouted. "It's okay as long as you're okay" she smiled. "I love you Y/N" Charles smiled brightly. "I love you too Charles" she smiled back. "You'll take care of me like you take care of all your patients?" he asked. "I'll take care of you like my boyfriend. My patients don't get cuddles and kisses while they are healing" she chuckled. "They better not, I'm gonna fight them" he said trying to make fists. "Don't do that. You have a IV line in your hand" she said straightening his hand out. "OH" he said staring at his hand. "But it doesn't hurt." Charles said. "It's not supposed to" she replied kissing his hand where the IV line was attached.

A few hours later, the effect of the medicines had worn out and Charles was just on pain meds to help post surgery. Y/N had a shit ton of videos of Charles proposing his love to her and telling everyone who set foot into the room about her which did make her embarrassed but it was sweet how proud of her he was. She made him take all the embarrassing pictures he would never agree to if he wasn't loopy to use as black mail.

"I must've been a handful" Charles asked, now completely sober. "A little but I love it that way" she smiled. "Than I'll continue to be like that" he laughed before wincing in pain. "Don't laugh too much. You'll still be in pain" she reprimanded him. "I have you" he reasoned. "You'll always have me" she stated. "Sorry for worrying you" Charles apologised. "Just don't do that again. I don't think my heart can handle that" she said. "I don't think I have two appendix to do that" Charles laughed trying to lighten the mood. "Don't laugh your stitched are still only a few hours old" she said sternly. "Okay doctor" he smiled puckering lips as if he wanted to kiss her. She leaned in and kissed his lips. "je t'aime chérie" Charles said when Y/N pulled away. "je t'aime aussi bébé" she replied.

918 notes · View notes

familyvideostevie · 5 months ago

Text

to close up all the rest

joel miller x reader | 3.2k

a patrol rattles you. joel keeps you grounded.

cw: typical tlou violence, intense emotions about being alive/death, love, something to live for. post-part i jackson au

a/n: just a little jackson au one-shot. this is a christmas present for darling @macfrog. thank you for existing, i love you. hope this is alright.

It's been a long time since someone died in front of you.

You don't even know her. Honestly, you should be glad the runner grabbed her, considering she just finished shooting at you. Your patrol partner, a kid called Joey who usually works the stables, shouts your name as you watch it sink its teeth into her neck over and over again.

She doesn't even scream.

"More are coming," he cries. "We have to go."

He's right. The woman's gunshot echoed in the valley and it's not yet cold enough for the herds to be slow, so you have a few minutes at most to get out of here. Probably less.

Groans on the wind. Definitely less.

You shake yourself out of the twisted thrall you've fallen into and look away. Heart in your throat, blood pounding in your ears, you quickly tie your bags to your horse and scan the street.

"Do you have your pack?" you ask Joey.

If she was screaming you'd shoot her. Put an end to it. But it might be a waste of a shot and then the runner would be on you in ten big steps. Fuck.

"Got it!"

You both mount skittish rides and take off down the cracked pavement. The patrol had an added ask of raiding some neighborhoods for linens that can be turned into bandages. You each have a big bag of old clothes, curtains, blankets, and the like strapped to the back of your saddles. The woman had appeared out of the tree line just as you finished the last house, demanding your stuff. There was protocol for this -- Joey would distract her while you went for the gun strapped to the back of your jeans.

But she was skittish, this woman. She fired at the pavement in front of you as soon as your hand twitched.

And then, well.

After a few miles of steady galloping you signal for Joey to slow. The forest is quiet as you turn onto the path down the hill that will lead you back to Jackson.

"I can't believe she shot at us," the kid says. "Stupid."

You sigh. "She was desperate," you say, remembering how wild her eyes looked. "And alone. If she had people with her she wouldn't have."

"You think?"

It's been some time but you did your days alone in this world. It's bloody, it's terrifying, it's punishing. You stop trusting anyone and eventually you stop trusting yourself. Wondering why you keep trying. Without community you lose sight of what matters. You lose sight of how you can not just survive this hell on earth, but live in it.

If she had wanted to do that, instead, maybe you could have told her it was possible.

"Yeah," you say. The walls of Jackson come into view and you think about what awaits you. A warm house, an even warmer embrace. Safety, security, home. "Having people makes all the difference."

Joey waves the green flag and the gates open for you. After returning your horse and checking to make sure the kid isn't too traumatized -- frankly, he seems totally unbothered -- you walk back to the house. The sun is starting to set, painting everything golden, but you can see the clouds rolling in. Might be that snow that everyone keeps anticipating. Most mornings you hear chatter about it. Small talk about the weather persists after the end of the world.

A few folks wave hello, ask after Ellie's new dog, say they hope you've got your firewood ready. Jackson is a thing out of dreams. Solid walls, even steadier people. Good rules, smart leaders. You feel lucky every day that they let you stay here. That you've made a home here.

That home is in sight when you turn on Rancher and what you spy on the porch makes you pick up your pace.

Joel.

He's rocking in the one chair out front, guitar slung across his lap like an afterthought as he strums with his eyes closed. It'll be too cold to sit out, soon, so he spends most evenings playing while he can still stand it.

A heaviness you didn't realize you were carrying lessens a little at the sight of him.

"Hey, stranger," you call as you walk up the steps.

His gaze falls on you, the hazel in his irises more evident in the fading light of the late afternoon. God, he looks beautiful. Like everything you've ever wanted.

"Howdy," he says. The guitar goes up against the house and he stands, meeting you at the top step. "How was patrol?"

You falter, smile frozen on your face. You should tell him, but you don't know what you'd say. A stranger died in front of you and it's put your stomach in knots? It's not that he'll laugh at you, or anything like that. You just need to chew on it a little longer. And right now you're steps away from the warm inside of your home and inches away from the man you love, so you decide to push it aside.

"The usual," you muse. Joel furrows his brow just a little and searches your gaze, but whatever he finds in your eyes causes him to let it go.

"Okay," he says, softly. He taps your chin with his knuckle and turns toward the front door, snagging his guitar on the way. "You hungry? Ellie brought by some soup."

"Did she make it?"

Your layers go on the hooks by the door, your boots next to his in the hall. He heads for the kitchen.

"Hell no," Joel says, deep voice echoing through your house. "Dina did."

"So it's edible?"

You pad on socked feet over creaking hardwood and find him over a pot on the stove, bowl in hand.

"Tried a bit and it didn't kill me," he says. "Waited for you to get home to eat, though."

"And Tommy says you were raised in a barn," you tease, kissing his cheek before he ladles the soup for you.

Joel grunts and you laugh. "Hot bowl," he says. "Careful."

For some reason, his gentle caution makes your chest hurt. You think about the woman from today, how she had no one telling her to be careful. How she made a mistake, or maybe a reckless choice. How she didn't even scream.

There are many very difficult days in this life and you dealt with them on your own for a long time. It's taken practice and mounds of patience from Joel and the other people in this town who love you, but you've learned that you can let other people help you through those days. But that doesn't mean it isn't hard.

You sit at the table across from Joel and try not to let your mood take over.

"You alright?" Joel asks, frown firmly in place. "Maybe Ellie did make the soup--"

"It's good, Joel," you say, smiling a little. If he asks you how you are one more time, you'll crack. And you're not ready yet. "Will you tell me about your day?"

He sighs, no doubt seeing through your second deflection, but allows it.

"Let's see," he starts, leaning back in his chair. "Tommy had me handlin' that bullshit with the kids who went huntin'."

Last week, three teenagers snuck out with the grand idea that they'd bag an elk or something just as big and bring it back for fame and glory or whatever kids think is worth life and death these days. It hadn't gone as badly as it could have, but it was pretty bad. They'd stolen a rifle from the patrol cache and only made it a few miles before one of them slipped down a bank and broke his ankle. Joel had been the one to lead the search party when someone realized they were missing.

He's got a soft spot for teenagers.

"It's good for them to learn," you remind him. He sucks on his teeth and rubs at his jaw. You slurp on some more soup and a thought at odds with your sour mood dances through your memory -- how good his beard felt on your skin last night. Jesus. He does something to you, this man.

"Should know better," he says, oblivious to the echo of your desire. "Havin' them clean all the guns is one thing but once that kid heals up I'm tellin' Tommy we oughta start a trainin' class or somethin'. Let them get outside the walls and hunt if they want. With supervision."

"Keep talking like that and Maria will make you join the council," you muse.

He snorts. "Yeah, I'm sure as shit not doin' that."

"You'd be good at it, Joel. People listen to you."

"I have a hard enough time gettin' my own kid to listen to me," he reminds you. "Hell, you, too."

It's less of a jab and more of an attempt to get you to cheer up, and it works. You laugh at him, delighted to vex him so. As if he does anything but melt for Ellie. And for you -- both of you know just how wrapped around you he is. He'll do anything for his family. You've seen proof of it.

"If only the council had a uniform," you sigh, exaggerating your disappointment. "You'd look so handsome in one."

"Watch it," he says, eyes sparkling.

You tap his foot under the table with yours. "Just being truthful," you tease, though it rings a little hollow given the fact that you're swerving talking about your own day.

Joel hums and leans back in his chair. "You gonna tell me what happened today?"

"What do you mean?"

Even as you chew on how to swerve him once again, you find yourself going back to the patrol. The way your senses sharpened when she stepped out of the trees, how you saw all the ways it could go wrong. Her twitchy hand, her wide eyes. The crack in her voice when she demanded your packs. The echo of the gunshot and your own heartbeat loud in your ears wondering if today was the day you wouldn't make it home. When the runner leapt out of nowhere and latched onto her. How easily your life could have ended that way, too.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you," Joel says, not unkindly. "Where are you?"

You chew on your lower lip. This would be a lot easier if the words would just come to you, if you knew how to explain yourself.

"Joel--"

"Alright, that's it," he says. Joel gets up with a groan, stretching his arms high in the air, and heads for the front door.

"What?" you ask, confused, but you follow him into the hall. "Joel, where are you going?"

"We're goin' for a walk." He shrugs on his jacket and waves you over. "C'mon."

"But the dishes--"

"Will be here when we get back," he finishes. "Now, get your coat on. Hat, too. Reckon the snow is gonna start tonight."

You could fight him about it, say you're cold and tired and just want to sit on the couch. Tell him to stop badgering you, to let sleeping dogs lie.

But that's the thing about Joel -- you trust him. Outside the walls, inside your home. With your life and with your heart. You're safe in his hands. And you've been here before plenty of times. After nightmares from both of you, after hard days in town, after his fights with Ellie or Tommy or whatever it is. You walk and you talk it out. Fresh air helps, Joel often says. It's the father in him, the caretaker, the man who knows when to listen and when to push. He's taught you a lot about that.

So you shove your feet back into your boots and Joel tugs a knit hat over your ears. The sun finished setting while you were eating, Jackson now illuminated by the gas lamps and string lights hanging between the posts.

Normally you'd be content to just walk with Joel side by side, as is your usual routine. He's not a particularly public man when it comes to affection, though you never doubt that he's thinking of you. His eyes find yours in every room and he easily finds you in every crowd. By now, you've got your own language.

But, given that he's brought you out here to no doubt get you to be honest about your complicated feelings, he offers you his arm for support. You take it with a dry look that he matches.

Never one to let you off easily, this man. Not when he knows he can help, at least.

"You know what I'm gonna say," he grumbles.

It helps to talk.

It's basically a mantra in your house. Ellie says he didn't used to be like this. The total opposite, in fact. You know that it's her that brought him back to this version of himself -- he did it because she asked. And maybe you coming along helped, too. He might seem gruff and guarded to those who don't know him but it's all so he can protect who and what he loves.

And this is one of his ways -- not letting things go unsaid.

"I don't know where to start," you say. "I don't know how to explain it."

Joel rubs a hand over his jaw. "Try the beginning," he suggests. "It was patrol, right? Somethin' happened?"

You nod.

"We saw a woman," you start. You close your eyes and picture her, letting Joel lead you down the street. "She came out of the woods just as we finished the last house."

"Hostile?"

You look at Joel. His jaw is tense, as if you're not standing in front of him safe and sound. Always trying to fix hurts he had nothing to do with.

"She had a gun, yeah," you continue. "Demanded our stuff. We were ready to do the protocol but then she shot at us."

Joel stops in his tracks, pulling you with him. "She did what?"

"And missed, obviously," you remind him. "But it was a stupid mistake, since we weren't far from that town with the herd. She had to have seen traces of them and known they were there."

"Christ," he mutters. You tug on his arm and he starts walking again.

"And before we could do anything a runner tackled her to the ground."

Joel curses under his breath. "Unlucky."

It starts to snow. You look up at the white flakes falling from the dark sky as you figure out how to say what happened next.

"Go on," Joel says, softly. "This is the part that bothered you, I reckon."

"She didn't even scream, Joel," you whisper just loud enough for him to hear. "She just went down."

"Ah."

All of it comes to a boil and the words pour out of you.

"I mean, why did she shoot in the first place? She was jumpy, sure, but she was alone, too. She looked so tired, so desperate, and the way it lunged for her I know it didn't kill her on the first bite. No screaming, she just took it. She took it and gave up. I don't -- she must have had nothing, to give up like that. It's just so fucked up --"

Your voice breaks. Joel pulls you to a stop and unwinds your arms so he can put his hands on your shoulders.

"Ain't nothin' you can do about someone else's lot," he says. "She made her mistakes."

"I know," you retort, "but that could have been me."

"It ain't you."

"But it could have been, Joel!" You're not angry with him, but you're frustrated. "If things had worked out differently for me, it could have been. If I never found Jackson, if I was still out there. It could have been me."

He exhales sharply, reigning in his own desire to remind you that you're safe. That you're here, that you're with him. That he won't let anything bad happen to you.

"Lots of things could be different," he says, slowly. "Could spend days thinkin' 'bout that stuff. Years."

"I guess I'm just sad for her." The snow has gathered in Joel's hair and you reach for him to brush it away. He allows it, keeping his eyes on yours. "I think she wanted to die."

"It's a hard life on the road."

You sigh. "I know, Joel," you say. "I just -- it's been a long time since things have been that bad for me. And it was hard to be reminded, you know?"

His hands move from your shoulders to cup your face, thumbs your skin. "I know, sweetheart," he replies. "We've all been there. Hard not to think about givin' up at least once in this shit hole."

It gets a dry laugh out of you.

"But you ain't givin' up. You fight tooth and nail every single time 'cause you've got so much to get back to. And it'll get you home."

You lean into one of his palms, your lips brushing along the heel of his hand. "I know, Joel."

He's not done. "For a long time I was like that. Not carin' much how things went, so long as I got to get my hands dirty. But Ellie --" he swallows, the love he has for his girl getting in the way of his words " -- and you tie me to this damn place. Make me get up every day, make me remember how things can be good. And someday it'll be my turn --"

"Joel--"

"No, listen. Someday it'll be my turn, and I'll go knowin' I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world to get what I got. Time."

You can't take it anymore. You pitch forward into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. Now that he's said it, you realize why the whole thing bothered you so much. You don't want to die. You don't want to lose the life you have now. The home you have with this man, the way he loves you. The way you love him. It makes you feel human, it makes you feel alive.

And you feel damn bad for anyone who doesn't have something to live for.

Joel's hand presses into your spine. Maybe in a different life you'd be worried that he'd think you're silly for being so bothered about this, but he always takes you seriously. You both know how quickly you can lose something, how much it matters to make the time you have count.

"Thank you," you say into his jacket. He scoffs.

"C'mon, now." He gently pulls away from your embrace to look at you. He brushes snow from your shoulders and hat with careful fingers. "Let's go home."

Home. For so long you never thought you'd have one.

Joel must see the vulnerability in your eyes because he leans in to press his lips to yours gently. An anchoring touch, a reminder of how he feels.

"Getting frisky, Mr. Miller," you mutter when he pulls away. He snickers and you sneak another kiss as he pinches your hip through your coat.

"Home," he says again.

You couldn't agree more.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last us of fanfiction

432 notes · View notes

ramblingautisticman · 7 months ago

Text

So, I haven't stopped thinking about the dyslexic Wade headcannon- like at all- so here is the second part/expansive of this post!

I really like the idea of him being really insecure about it but slowly accepting it more and being more open about it.

I also wrote from my experience, and I'm not officially diagnosed don't come at me, but I struggle alot with reading and writing so yeah!

Anyway, enjoy. Please. I hope everyone likes this as much as I do!

---------------------------------

It isn't that Wade can't read- or that he doesn't want to- it's more that it's a massive fucking struggle. Most of the time anyway.

He's always had trouble reading (and spelling, but he can avoid that with emojis now! How technology grows!) ever since he was a kid.

And maybe it's because he didn't grow up in a great environment, or maybe it's because he was never really encouraged, but Wade never ever mentions it. Not to anyone.

He never told anyone when he was in school that sometimes words didn't really make sense to him, and that he was behind in work because of it, not because he would sit and talk (though he did that too). He never told anyone that he preferred art over english because it was easier to understand a picture to him than it was words. He never told anyone that he struggled to spell simple words like "bakery" and "shopping" but could spell "because" and "beautiful" because of a stupid rhyme he had heard once.

It was just something he had grown up with- something he had assumed other kids dealt with- u til he got to high school. Suddenly, he was surrounded by people writing 3000 word essays like they were nothing and people reading 200 page books during lunch, all while Wade still hadn't finished a single book he owned. While Wade still struggled to understand words that weren't in a specific font or colour- something he had realised shortly after turning 10- and everyone around him could just do it. They didn't take 10 minutes to finish a page of a book. They didn't get headaches from the concentration he had to use while staring at a page trying to figure out if the word "wandering" was spelt correctly. They didn't struggle to read the teachers writing because of the cursive writing. They could all just do it and Wade had to just sit and try.

Naturally, people noticed that he would read slowly and awkwardly when they read aloud in class, or that his work always came back covered in red pen from where he had misspelled simple words. He quickly became a target for bullying. Honestly, he probably wouldn't feel as self conscious as he does if that hadn't happened. If teachers had just stepped in and helped- noticed that something was wrong- he would've gotten some help and grown up with accommodations that would've helped him succeed. But he didn't get any of that. He got bullied for reading slowly and being dumb. He got kicked and punched because he had been spotted reading a book meant for younger kids (big mistake).

Wade tried. He did. He read books as often as he could to try and make his brain click- and it never worked. He would try and spell random words- and sometimes he got them and sometimes he didnt- and eventually he gave up. Eventually he succumbed to the voice in his head telling him he was stupid and that he was just going to have to go through life suffering.

And as he got older, he figured out stuff that helped and stuff that didn't. He managed to find a few fonts that helped, a few overlays that made it easier, and a few things to remind him how to spell certain words he usually struggled with.

He also got better at hiding it. Wade would tell people he preferred calls over text. He would open birthday cards and smile at the writing even if he couldn't quiet make out what it said. He would avoid anything that involved him reading in public.

And again, not because he couldn't read, but because it might take him alittle longer than it should, and the idea people would notice made his stomach fill with anxiety, sending him right back to being that scrawny kid I high-school who got beaten up every lunch time.

All of that only got worse after his accident. Well, the cancer and the torture and the murders, but ya know.

Now people were staring at him anyway. People would look and gasp and gawk as he walked down the street or went to the store to get groceries. Everywhere he went people stared. Everywhere.

So instead of being slightly worried people would notice him focusing too hard on reading, he was fully aware people were staring at him constantly because of his skin, and he liked to avoid giving them anymore reasons to stare.

To his suprise though, moving in with Al had helped. She was the only person he had told, and she was the only person who seemed to understand, telling him about something called dyslexia and telling him that his brain just worked alittle different than his. Then proceeded to pass out after using the last of her cocaine- but the thought was still there.

And she didn't seem to mind that he read alittle slower sometimes, because she still asked him to read her mail to her, and sometimes write letters or cards. Wade would have to ask her how to spell the words, but she never seemed to get angry about it, and she always seemed to know how to spell them. Plus, if anyone noticed it wasn't spelt right, they could blame it on her being blind (how was the recipient to know this letter hadn't been writing by Al? She could probably write stuff if she wanted. She's blind, not stupid.).

When he started to gain friends and family- somehow gaining a little group of them- he didn't feel as bad about them noticing. He still didn't say anything- didn't make it obvious- but he wanted them to know he read there cards. Make sure they knew he read the group chat messages. Make sure they knew he did care (and for some reason, probably because the writer loves this headcannon, it seemed like alot of him showing his cared had to do with reading and spelling), writing them birthday cards and Christmas cards, and responding to every single message.

He found a quick way around the messages. That was easy. Emojis, memes and gifs quickly became his best friend. They were easy to dichiper most of the time, and Wade loved them, so it was a win win! He did write things too, and auto correct usually helped if he was struggling that day, but he was getting better thanks to Al and her bossing about of writing letters to her grandkids.

Writing cards took a little longer, but he spent alot of time on each one, making sure everything look neat and was spelt well. It always made him proud giving someone a card that he knew he spent so much time on, perfecting every last word.

When Logan moved in, it was a topic Wade was trying to avoid. He knew he should tell him- they were getting closer and closer each passing day- but he always felt so stupid trying to explain it. It made him feel stupid, even if he knew he wasn't. Most of the time.

Luckily, it doesn't actually come up for awhile, not until they have moved into their own place and Wade is handing Logan a birthday card with a huge grin on his face, practically bouncing on his feet.

And Logan opens it and reads it, and smirks a little because "I don't think the word awesome is spelt like that" and suddenly Wade's smile is wiped off his face.

He really had tried- maybe he didn't read the word properly off his phone or something- because Wade is taking the card and trying his best to quickly read it but can't, and he let's out a grunt of frustration because rambling at Logan apologetically. "I really tried to fucking spell everything right- I'm the idiot for fucking trying to read the word to spell it- I mean, who does that when you can't even read properly? I can re-do it- gimme like an hour and a half to go get a new card and get Al on the phone to just ask her how to spell it and then I can give you one that isn't fucked up-"

And Logan shuts him up with a small kiss to the forehead, telling him that he "likes this one just fine, has more charm" and Wade wants that to feel reassuring but it somehow doesn't, and it just makes him more annoyed.

So after a small melt down and a good cry in the shower for fucking up Logan's birthday, he explains it to Logan. Tells him about how he sometimes struggles with reading and spelling, but he really did try with the card. He really does try to read and write properly but some days it's hard and some days he can do it easier, and that he never really told anyone until he met Al. He messily rambles about everything- including the bullying- and Wade expects to be met with some laugh or ridicule. Though, this is Logan- and somehow this man loves every other part of him- so why wouldn't he love this part too?

And Logan just apologises to Wade that he made him feel bad about misspelling the word awesome- makes a joke about how it's a hard word to spell- and that Wade shouldn't have been bullied for something he couldn't help. Tells him that it's nothing to be ashamed off, and that he shouldn't let it hold him back. Tells him that if he ever needs help with spelling something he can ask Logan, that if he ever can't figure out a word that he can ask Logan, asks if there are any accommodations he uses to help him.

And Wade tells him the things that help, the things that don't, thanks him for the offer of help, and suddenly it doesn't seem so terrifying that Logan knows. Suddenly he feels better about it. Sure, Al had helped, but hearing this from Logan made him feel less afraid to hide it. Made him feel better about telling his friends so they knew.

And Logan stays true to his words. He helps him when he is struggling with a word- never jumps in a reads stuff or spells things without being asked first- and even uses some of the accommodations. He has his phone set to a font Wade can read easier, and his next birthday card is in big bold writing (Logan's writing is normally really scribbly and hard to read) and on a colour that helps him focus on the words more.

And he tells his friends and they understand, they do the same. They help if asked, they don't rush him in reading their cards or messages- Yukio starts to use more emojis and Collosus tries his best to give Wade mission debriefs in person or voice messages- and it helps him immensely. He gets more confident about his reading and writing, and he starts to work on ut even more. And yeah, he can't get rid of his dyslexia, but he can try and find new ways that help him. He can find books in safe fonts and listen to the audio book as he reads to help (Though, he does prefer listening to Logan read to him, because his voice is so smooth and gruff somehow, and he could listen to it for hours).

Wade hated that stupid part of himself for so long, but now- even if he is 47- he doesn't really mind it anymore. He makes jokes about his spelling errors or words he missreads, and he works on finding new things to help with Logan, and everything is alittle bit easier knowing he isn't going to be ridiculed and judged.

(People who said they wanted this, I hope you enjoy! @wadewnstonwilson @logictoinsanity @zerotoqueero @superbattrash @spoopderman @klszkas @ohitsthemindstuffagain @mangoob @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes (tagging yall who said you wanted to read it!))

#so i really love this headcannon #dyslexia #dyslexic #dyslexic wade my child #dyslexic wade wilson #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #wade wilson #deadclaws #deadpool 3 #logan #deadpool #wade winston wilson #wade x logan #logan howlett

789 notes · View notes

totaly-obsessed · 9 months ago

Text

Out of the Pages

➳ Paige Bueckers x reader

➳ Navigation Post - here!

➳ introvert x extrovert - worlds meet

➳ Pure fluff, not proof read, idk guys, it's been a while. ➳ reader really is just me...

➳ Word count: 3.1k

The soft afternoon sun filters through the curtains of the small apartment you share with your girlfriend in downtown Storrs, casting a warm, golden light over the neat rows of books on your beloved bookshelf. Through the open window, you can hear the people talking on the street as they embrace the last warm days before it eventually gets colder.

October is halfway over, and it won’t be long until the basketball season starts back up again, leaving Paige and her teammates in a constant state of excitement as they are making the last preparations. But in this apartment, curled up in your favorite armchair, you are at peace, absorbed in the pages of your book as you try to solve the case alongside the main character—a stark contrast to the lively chaos your girlfriend thrives in. It’s that very difference that makes your relationship work so well, despite what other people say.

In one of the restaurants close by a glass is dropped, pulling your focus from the book. A quick glance at the clock tells you that it shouldn’t be too much longer until Paige comes home. Practice ended 20 minutes ago, but most days she stayed a bit later, getting some more shots in, trying to perfect them to the best of her abilities, before she finally walked the 5-minute way back to your joint home.

With a sigh you close your book, realizing that you should probably get a start on dinner. You had always been the kind of person who found joy in the quieter moments in life. Reading a good mystery book and savoring the stillness that came with an afternoon without classes. Paige thrived in the energy of the crowd and the adrenaline of the game, while you cherished the simple things. A nice, hot, cup of tea. The feeling of a brand new book in your hands. Rain hitting your window in the fall. Knowing that she will walk through your front door in a couple of minutes, happy to fall into your comforting arms and tell you everything that happened.

But even with you being a more private person, Paige loved you loudly. Nearly every second day she posts a pic of you on her Story. Sometimes she posts little videos of how you’re dancing around in the kitchen with her or how her teammates are interacting with you. In interviews, it’s hard to get her to stop talking about you, because no matter what the topic is, she is guaranteed to talk about you. And her fans love every second of it, and they love every bit of you. While she chases perfection on the court, you find perfection in the little things—in the way her eyes light up when she talks about her day, in the quiet moments when you simply exist together, side by side. And everyone loves watching you two be in love.

“Hi, Lovie!” Not once in your life has Paige walked through your front door quietly. So just like most days, the door flings open, as your girlfriend grins at you. “Oh, you look good, Baby!” And just like most days, she pulls the ‘o’s’ in good as long as she can. “Love, I’m wearing a sweater and shorts.” You deadpan at her while you drain the pasta and pour it into a pan. “I know Baby. But it’s my sweater and those shorts… Yeah, I don’t think I need to say it.” Warm arms wrap themselves around you as your girlfriend clings to you, looking over your shoulder and watching you finish the sauce. “There is no protein in there, Baby.” With a scoff you shrug her off, pushing her towards the bathroom. “Wash your hands, dinner is ready.”

A soft kiss was pressed against your cheek as Paige joined you at the table. “Thank you for cooking Ma.” With a soft hum you lean into her touch, a small smile playing at your lips as you reply, "Anything for you, Love." The blonde lets out a satisfied moan as she takes the first bite, “This is incredible.” As quickly as you can you pull a face, “There is no protein in there, baby”, mocking what she said earlier to you, in your best ‘Paige voice’. One of her eyebrows shoots up, daring you to test her again.

As the playful banter continues between the two of you, Paige's eyes gleam with a mischievous spark. "You know," she says, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, "You can't stay cooped up in this apartment forever. How about coming out with me this weekend?"

You give her a knowing smile, already sensing where this conversation is headed. "Oh, Paige, you know I’d rather spend my time at home." She pouts dramatically, “But baby, it’s not just some loud party. It’s gonna be fun! Just a little get-together with the team and some friends. Nothing too crazy, I promise. Azzi told me about it.”

You roll your eyes affectionately, “I’ve heard that before. And I also remember how we ended up staying until 2 a.m. last time because you couldn't stop dancing.” Paige laughs, a sound like music filling the room, one of your favorite sounds there is. "Okay, fair point, but this time, I swear, it’s different. It's going to be relaxed—chill vibes, a few drinks, good music. Just a chance to hang out together."

You look at her skeptically, already shaking your head. “I don’t know, Paige… I’m really not the party type.” Your girlfriend leans in closer, her grin widening. "I know that, babe. And that’s exactly why I think you should come, just this once. It could be good for you to step out of your comfort zone. Who knows? You might even enjoy it." You laugh softly, but the idea still feels foreign to you. “I think my comfort zone is a pretty nice place, actually.”

“Come on,” Paige nudges you gently. “Just think about it, okay?”

You nod, more to humor her than out of any real intention of agreeing. "I’ll think about it," you say, and Paige gives you a triumphant little cheer, knowing that everything but a ‘no’ is a victory.

Over the next few days, Paige doesn't let it go. She brings it up casually while you’re both cooking dinner, or when you're curled up on the couch together. “You know, they’ll have those little sliders you love at the party,” she mentions offhandedly one evening. Another day, she adds, “It could be like a mini-date night… just us two, but, like, with other people.”

You can’t help but smile at her persistence, though you keep gently declining each time. “I’m really not sure, Paige,” you respond, even as she keeps layering on reasons and reassurances, each argument filled with her enthusiasm.

Finally, one evening, as you’re sitting together watching a show, Paige takes a more serious tone. “Listen, love,” she says, turning towards you and taking your hand. “I know you’re not into these kinds of things, and I respect that. I love that you’re different. But I think it could be fun for us to do something a little out of the ordinary… together. Just this once.”

You tilt your head, considering her words, but still unsure. “And if I don’t have a good time?”

Paige smiles, her eyes soft. “Then we leave. No questions asked. I’ll stay by your side the entire time, I promise. I just… I just want to see you in my world, even if it’s just for one night. We can leave whenever you want. I promise you won’t be alone in it. I’ll be by your side the whole time, and Nika is gonna be there, and Azzi and KK, the whole team really. You love them! Deal?”

Her sincerity touches you, and you feel a small tug at your heart. You know how much this means to her, how much she wants to share every aspect of her life with you, just as she proudly shares you with the world.

With a sigh, you finally relent. “Alright, fine. I’ll go. But I’m holding you to that promise. One step out of line, and we’re out.” Paige’s face lights up with a brilliant smile, and she throws her arms around you in a tight hug. “Deal, baby. And trust me, it’ll be fun. You’ll see.” You smile back, feeling the warmth of her excitement radiating off her.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she litters small kisses all over your face, as the blonde just can’t help herself, hiding her face in the crook of your neck. “If you hadn’t said yes today, I wasn’t gonna go either.” The jerk of your head was exactly what she had expected after telling you her little secret. At your whines, she could only laugh, “Nuh-uh. you said yes. Now We’re goin'!”

The night of the party arrives faster than you expected, and you find yourself standing in front of the mirror, adjusting your clothes nervously. Paige, ever the enthusiast, had picked out a comfortable yet stylish outfit for you, something that she assured would help you “blend in but still look cute." You catch her reflection in the mirror as she comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your chest, her smile warm and encouraging. “You look perfect,” she says, and you know she means it.

Your nerves build with every meter on the way to the party. The streets are busier than usual for a usual Saturday night, and you can already hear the faint thrum of music coming from a few blocks away. Paige’s right hand found its usual place, your thigh, as she rubbed comforting circles. “Remember,” she murmurs softly, loud enough that you can hear her over the open windows that let in the cooling evening air, “we can leave whenever you want. This is just for fun, okay?”

You nod, trying to take a deep breath and push down the flutter of anxiety in your chest. The music grows louder as you approach the house, the bass thumping through the walls as the blonde parks the car. Laughter and chatter spill out into the street, a warm glow radiating from the windows. Paige squeezes your hand one last time before opening her car door, jogging around, and helping you out of your seat.

Inside, the atmosphere is exactly as you imagined—people are scattered around, chatting in groups, dancing, or playing games. You immediately feel a wave of discomfort wash over you. It’s not just the noise, but the sheer number of people crammed into the small space. Paige senses your hesitation and keeps you close, her arm slipping around your waist protectively.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she whispers, her lips close to your ear. “Just breathe. We’ll find a quieter corner.” She guides you gently through the crowd, smiling and waving at friends as you pass by. You catch snippets of conversations and see faces turning your way, but Paige’s presence keeps you grounded. She introduces you to a few people, all of them friendly enough, but the whirlwind of names and faces makes your head spin.

How does this girl know everyone?

Finally, you reach a quieter spot near the kitchen, where the noise is a bit more subdued. Paige grabs two drinks, handing one to you. “Here, something light,” she says with a wink. “No pressure to drink if you don’t want to, but it might help you relax.”

You take a tentative sip, and Paige’s smile widens. “See? Not so bad, right?” You give her a small smile in return, still feeling a bit overwhelmed but comforted by her presence. For a few minutes, things seem to settle. Paige chats animatedly with a few friends who come by to say hello, and you listen quietly, feeling a little more at ease just being by her side.

But then, KK and Ice, two of Paige’s closest friends and teammates, approach with wide grins. “Paige!” KK exclaims, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “We’re about to start a game of beer pong. You in?”

Paige glances at you, “Nah, I’m good right where I am,” she says firmly, smiling at her friends. “I’m here to spend time with my girl tonight.”

KK raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Your girl can play too, you know,” she teases, glancing over at you with a playful challenge in her eyes. “Come on, it’s just a game. We promise not to make it too competitive… unless you want us to.” Ice laughs and nods, chiming in, “Yeah, it’ll be fun! You’ve got Paige on your team, so you’re already halfway to winning!”

Paige looks at you, her eyes searching yours for a moment. She can see the hesitation written all over your face, the way your fingers lightly grip her arm, not wanting to let go. You give her a small, almost imperceptible shake of your head, and she instantly understands.

She turns back to KK and Ice, flashing a charming smile. “You know what? I think I’m gonna sit this one out tonight,” she says smoothly. “We’re just here to chill and have a quiet night. Maybe next time?”

KK chuckles, catching the subtle glance between you and Paige. “Alright, alright, we get it. No pressure,” she teases with a grin. “You two are inseparable, huh?” Paige just shrugs, her grin widening as she pulls you closer to her side. “Can you blame me?” she quips back, her tone light but sincere.

KK and Ice exchange a knowing look, teasing her with playful jabs. “Oh, come on, Paige, you’re whipped,” KK laughs, but there’s no malice in it—just teasing their friend.

“Damn right, I am,” Paige grins, pulling you closer. “And proud of it.”

They laugh and shake their heads. "Alright, alright," Ice says, “we’ll catch you later then.” They wander off, leaving you and Paige in your little corner.

As they wander off to join the others, Paige turns to you, her smile softening. “I’ve got you, always,” she murmurs, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You feel the tension in your shoulders ease a bit, and you nod. “Thank you,” you whisper, and Paige leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “No big deal Ma.,” she replies softly.

“Tell me about your book, baby. What happened in the last chapter? Did Pip figure it out?”

You can’t help but smile at her genuine interest. Paige has heard you ramble on about countless books, and every time she listens as if it’s the most important thing in the world. "Well," you start, your voice a little shaky but gaining confidence as you go on, "Pip thinks she has it all figured out, but there’s this new twist... the suspect has an alibi that throws her entire theory out the window."

Paige’s eyes widen dramatically. “No way!” she exclaims, leaning in closer as if this story was the most gripping thing she'd ever heard. “I was sure she had it this time. What’s she going to do now?”

You laugh softly at her enthusiasm, feeling more at ease. "She’s back to square one, basically. But she’s determined to find a new lead, and I think she’s getting closer to the truth."

Paige nods, fully absorbed in your words, her blue eyes fixed on you with a look of admiration that makes your heart flutter. For a moment, the noise and energy of the party fade away, and it’s just the two of you, sharing this quiet little world together. It’s these moments that remind you why you took the chance to come here tonight—for her, for this.

Just then, from across the room, Azzi catches sight of Paige and nudges Nika, who follows her gaze. They both burst into giggles, catching the attention of KK and Ice, who turns to see what’s so amusing.

“Look at her,” Azzi whispers to the group, a grin spreading across her face. “She’s got the puppy dog eyes again.”

KK snickers, “She’s totally whipped. She looks like she’s watching a sunrise or something.”

Nika laughs quietly, nodding. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look at anyone like that,” she adds, her voice filled with a touch of wonder. “It’s actually really cute.”

Ice chuckles, shaking her head. “That’s love, right there,” she says with a smile. “The girl’s completely gone for her.”

Meanwhile, Paige remains blissfully unaware of her friends’ teasing, still fully focused on you, hanging on to every word as you continue to tell her about the next chapter. Her hand finds yours, squeezing it gently, her thumb tracing light circles over your skin.

After a few moments, you catch sight of her friends watching from across the room, and you feel a blush creep up your cheeks. “Paige,” you whisper, nudging her slightly. “Your friends are staring.”

Paige glances over and catches their teasing expressions. She rolls her eyes with a grin, then turns back to you, unabashed. “Let them stare,” she says softly, her voice filled with warmth. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

You feel your heart swell with affection as Paige leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. The party continues around you, but it feels like the noise has dimmed just a little, leaving a bubble of peace around the two of you.

Eventually, the evening winds down, and as the crowd begins to thin, you realize that Paige is right. It wasn’t so bad—actually, it was more than that. You had fun in your own way, simply by being there with her, sharing in her world.

As you make your way back to the car, hand in hand, Paige looks at you with a triumphant smile. “See?” she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief and joy. “Told you it would be fun.” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, too. “Okay, okay,” you admit. “Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

As you reach the car, she stops and turns to face you, her expression turning sincere. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For tonight, and for always being my safe place.” You lean in and kiss her softly, your heart full. “I love you, Paige,” you murmur against her lips. “Anywhere with you is where I want to be.”

And with that, you both get into the car and drive back home together, knowing that whether in a crowded party or a quiet apartment, you have everything you need as long as you have each other.

#Paige Bueckers x Reader #Paige Bueckers imagine #Paige Bueckers fanfic #Paige Bueckers x you #UConn Women’s Basketball #womens basketball #uconn wbb #uconn x reader #wnba #paige bueckers

660 notes · View notes

thequeenofcurses · 3 months ago

Text

Deadly Valentine

story inspired by the above & this art by @sweetlandspos (with permission to post here <3)

summary: ghostface!bf sukuna x f!reader. sukuna doesn't want to wait 'til halloween to try out the new mask kink you told him about tw: CNC, dubcon, mask kink, slight yandere?, dacryphilia, knife play, rough, ghostface, break-in, breeding, sry if I miss something, im so bad at tws. not really proofread words: 4500

masterlist | jjk masterlist

As soon as you got home from work, you knew something was up.

It was eerily quiet. The tv wasn't on and the living room looked as if nobody had touched it.

The house was often filled with some sort of noise and Sukuna always made sure that the tv was always on or he was gaming.

“Kuna, I'm home.”

Nothing.

“Sukuna?!”

Silence.

Maybe he wasn't home? But where would he go?

You checked the whole house and his car was still here, yet no sign of him. Perhaps he went to buy some beer?

You were about to head upstairs until you heard a knock at the door.

Your heart started to beat rapidly in your chest.

Who could that be? Was it Sukuna? No, he would've called you.

You hesitantly opened the door to see a white and black ghost shaped mask staring back at you.

“Er, hello?”

There was no response.

“Can I help you?”

The mask turned his head slowly, and in a raspy voice, he said, “you're so cute.” His voice was distorted by some kind of voice changer.

You scoff. “Thanks, but I have a boyfriend. Now, if you'll excuse me-” You try to close the door, but the masked person wedges their foot in between the door, preventing you from closing it.

“I just have one question.” He doesn't move his foot.

You sigh heavily. “What is it?”

“What's your favorite scary movie?” he asks.

You roll your eyes then put your finger on your chin and tilt your head up cutely while you ponder. “Saw.”

He finally removes his foot and steps away from the door.

“That's a good choice”, he says. "I like when people get cut up, too."

You give him a curt nod and go to shut the door, but before it completely closes, he sticks his head in and whispers, “I'll be seeing you real soon.”

The door slams on his head and he grunts. You hear a chuckle as he walks away and then the sound of his footsteps disappearing.

“What the fuck?”

You quickly lock the door and take off your shoes and jacket, running up the stairs.

“Sukuna!” you shout as you look for him. You check every room possible, making sure the doors and windows are locked, yet the house seems as empty as a church on a weekday.

You breathe steadily trying to calm yourself down. It was probably just one of the neighbors playing a prank. Sukuna should be home soon.

As if he could sense your weariness, your phone beeps with a text from Satoru Gojo.

Gojo: Woman, I'm at the store with this moron Gojo. He rushed me and I ended up forgetting my phone, so I'm borrowing his. Need anything? ~Sukuna

You: I just need you <3

Gojo: can you two not get all mushy on my phone... ~Toru

You shake your head, putting your phone away, and decide to make some popcorn and watch a movie while you wait for him to get home. The second you slide the bag into the microwave you hear another knock at the door that makes you freeze. The store was at least ten minutes away, so there's no way Sukuna could've gotten home so quickly...

You tiptoe to the front door, peeking through the peephole. Nothing. Maybe it was just the wind.

POP! A kernel from the microwave sounds off, jolting your attention back to the kitchen.

This is getting really annoying.

You plop back onto the couch, awaiting your buttery snack to finish it's creation. You surf through the Netflix screen until you find something you like. The screen blackens and the room is pitch black, silent. The only sound coming from the kitchen.

THUMP! You flinch once again, the sound catching you off guard. Okay, what the fuck is going on? It sounded like some thing or some one, had fallen upstairs.

POP! POP! POP! The popcorn cried out for you, signaling it's readiness. You hurriedly take it out and leave the bag on the stove. You quickly open the top kitchen drawer and grab a knife. If someone really is here, I'm going down fighting, you think.

Your phone rings.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

It would be dumb to answer the call. It's so obvious, yet something in your brain compels you to do so.

"H-hello?"

"I told you I would be seeing you again."

"Who the fuck is this?"

"Come upstairs and find out." The call ends, and you're left confused with a heart beating so quickly, you can hear it. You pull up Gojo's contact and hit call.

"We're sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service."

You dial 911.

"We're sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service."

BEEP! Incoming text.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Nice try, sweetie.

Fuck, fuck. FUCK! My phone service isn't working. You pace in the kitchen as your mind racks with a million thoughts. I can't call for help or Sukuna. I just might have to face this guy.

You're not going to go up there.

Don't.

It's a trap.

That's how every dumb bitch in every horror movie dies.

Yet, your feet have a mind of their own, and they softly take you up the stairs. You hold the knife pointed outward as you ascend the stairs to your shared bedroom. Worst case scenario, if that masked person really did break in, you can use those self-defense moves Sukuna taught you and restrain them until the police arrive.

Your heart beats rapidly with every step you take. An advantage you have that the ghost doesn't is you know this house like the back of your hand. There's a secret door in the back of your bedroom closet that also leads to the hallway. You drop to a crawl and quietly sneak through the secret passageway. The ghost will never see you coming.

As you finally reach the door leading to your closet you inaudibly open it, firmly grasping the knob, as to not let its click make any noise. After you go through, you come face to feet with shoes you don’t own. Fuck.

CLAP CLAP CLAP. He’s clapping, he’s fucking clapping.

“Impressive,” he laughs with that distorted voice. “I knew you would try to go this way.”

“Don’t hesitate,” you hear Sukuna’s training voice in your mind. “Strike first. Ask questions when they’re where you want them.”

You do a side kick, aiming for the ghost’s knee. He stumbles backward, out of your closet and you use your bought time to stand to your feet. You rise, kitchen knife in your right hand. You finally size him up and holy fuck, he’s so much bigger than you. He’s at least a whole foot taller. He stares at you, waiting for you to make your next move.

You blink back your thoughts. Focus. You rush at him, aiming to stab him in the shoulder. You swing downward, pump faking, as if you were going for his groin, then at the last second, change directions, slicing him in the shoulder. The slice cuts through the fabric, barely piercing his skin. The knife has the tiniest drop of blood on the tip.

Is this guy insane? You internally deliberate. He didn’t even attempt to move.

“W-why,” you stutter out. “Why didn’t you dodge!?”

He scoffs. “Why would I dodge a meaningless attack like that?” The ghost tilts his head, wagging two fingers at you. Asshole. “Come at me again.”

You don’t rush this time, but wait for an opening. The ghost waves at you, taunting, and that’s when you decide to slice again. When he looks like he’s vulnerable, you aim for his chest this time. You use your body weight to thrust forward and the knife looks like it’s going to connect. Until it doesn’t. The ghost grabs your weaponized arm, then uses his other hand to force you into an armbar. He hooks his left arm over your right one, shifting the weight. He twists your hand backward towards the ground until you’re forced to make a decision.

In this position, you have to either drop the knife or you’ll drop to the ground. Either way, you’re fucked.

You try to hold on, but he’s too strong. He slightly presses down on your hand and it’s enough to make you wince in pain. You let the knife slip out of your fingers and he finally lets go of your hand.

For only a second.

The next moment, he turns you and puts you in a headlock, his left arm under your neck and his right one above your head.

“I told you,” he laughs. “Meaningless.”

“My boyfriend– ” you gasp out. “Is going to kill you.”

“Oh, really?” He lets you go and claps dramatically. The power in your room seems to suddenly go out and you’re both enveloped in darkness. Just outside of your room window you notice flashing lights coming through the crack in the curtains. The ghost pulls them back only for you to see Sukuna to be tied to a chair with strobe lights behind him. Your heart drops to your stomach.

“Please don’t,” your voice is shaky and raspy. You drop to your knees, not sure if the ghost can even see you in this darkness. “Please, please, don’t hurt him.”

As if on cue to torture you further, outside the window Sukuna is stabbed right in front of you. Your eyes well with tears and your breath gets stuck in your throat. Subsequently, the outside lights disappear and you're wrapped in darkness again. The lights in your room seemingly come back on and the ghost is walking back into your room.

“Sorry about your boyfriend,” he laughs. “All those muscles didn't help much.”

“Fuck you!” you spit at him.

“Tch. Good idea.”

“What–” you're cut off by the ghost grabbing you and tossing you onto the bed like you weigh nothing. Your vision is still blurry from the tears that are now streaking down your face, but your legs still work. You kick and kick and kick at him, scratching and clawing into his arms, but to no avail, he tanks it and pushes forward. It isn’t until he straddles you and has your arms pinned above your head, that you start to accept your fate.

The ghost lifts his mask up, ever so slightly, only to bend down and lick your tears. You twist your head away.

“You’re sick,” you snap at him again.

“Your tears are making me so hard,” he admits. You internally wretch and avoid his gaze. Sukuna, I need you. Your thoughts go to the only thing that can ever ground you. Sukuna, please, save me. Although, it was pointless to think that after watching the horror show earlier.

He releases one of your hands, only to guide it to his hardening length under his black robes. He then glides his finger across your lips.

“Open,” he commands.

“Make me,” you refuse, defiance all over your face.

“That can be arranged,” he laughs. Not letting his hold on you go, he grabs the knife off the bedside table. When the hell did he put that there? Was it when the lights went out? The knife slides against your cheek, then tantalizingly slowly down your neck. It hovers above your chest before it’s digging into your shirt. He pulls the knife down, slicing your top in two. But he doesn't stop there. The knife continues its venture, cutting open your bra, then your skirt and panties open.

The ghost tightens his grip on your chin, tilting your head up as the knife drags down your stomach, cold and teasing against your heated skin. Your breath hitches when the tip circles around your navel before trailing lower, stopping just above your pelvis.

“You’re so tense,” he murmurs through the voice changer, pressing the flat of the blade against your hip. “Is that fear? Or something else?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, refusing to respond. His weight pins you down, his body heavy against yours as his free hand slides up your ribs, fingers skimming over the shredded fabric of your shirt.

“Still not talking?” he chuckles, shifting his hips just enough for you to feel the hard outline of his cock pressing against your thigh. “No protests? No begging? Maybe you want this.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss, struggling against his grip.

The ghost tuts, clicking his tongue. “We’ll get there.”

He sets the knife aside, leaving it close enough for you to see its gleaming edge from the corner of your eye. His newly freed hand replaces the cold metal with the warmth of his fingers, ghosting over the curve of your waist, then lower—gripping, teasing, exploring. His touch is rough, calloused palms scraping over your soft skin, but calculated, like he’s memorized every inch of you.

It’s terrifying how well he seems to know your body.

You swallow hard, clenching your fists as his hands travel lower.

“Oh?” he remarks as if he’s made some new discovery. “You’re wet.”

No. Impossible. You would never get wet for anyone aside from your boyfriend. Especially not this monster. He’s probably hideous under that mask.

He slaps you across the face, and you wince in pain. It stings, but you know that wasn’t at all his full strength. The ghost uses this opportunity to force his lips on yours, tilting his mask up once again. His kiss is hard, forceful, and his tongue slips through your parted lips, licking the roof.

You try to push him away with your free hand, but his hand finds its way to your throat, squeezing just hard enough to make it difficult for you to breathe. Your nails dig into his wrist, a futile attempt to make him let go.

He breaks the kiss, smirking. You can feel his breath against your lips, warm and shallow, and it makes your skin crawl.

“Now for the main event,” the ghost whispers. He reaches to remove his cloak, and as he pulls it off, his black undershirt rides up slightly, exposing a glimpse of inked skin beneath.

Your breath stutters.

Your eyes dart to his stomach, tracing the familiar dark lines curling over his abs, trailing up to his ribs–

Tattoos.

Your stomach flips, shock crashing into you like a wave.

No. No, it can’t be.

But as he finally pulls his shirt off completely, standing over you in nothing but those dark pants and that haunting mask, the truth slams into you.

The tattoos. The scars. The physique you’ve memorized with your hands and lips a hundred times over. Your eyes go wide with surprise.

Sukuna.

Your entire body tenses beneath him as the realization hits, and the ghost tilts his head, amused by your sudden change in expression.

“What’s the matter, y/n?” he questions, rubbing his erection through his pants. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He chuckles, and your blood runs cold. You remain silent, still processing everything you’ve just seen.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is still distorted, still playful, but now you can hear it, the underlying smugness that’s so unmistakably him.

You don't reply.

You can't.

You just stare at him, unable to form any coherent thought, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

Sukuna removes the rest of his clothes, keeping nothing but that forsaken ghostface mask on. He then climbs on top of you, straddling your waist and pinning your hands above your head once more. His cock brushes against your stomach as he leans over you, the tip slick and glistening, and you realize how wet you are.

This is fucked.

He takes a moment to appreciate the view, his eyes raking over your body, admiring his handiwork. The remains of your clothes are scattered across the bed, barely covering you. Your hair is a mess, sticking to the sides of your face and neck, and your lips are red and swollen from his rough kisses.

Fuck, he loves seeing you like this.

He takes his cock in his hand, giving it a few lazy strokes before rubbing the head along your slit. He teases you, dragging his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick.

With how wet you are, he doesn’t need any lube tonight.

Your breath catches in your throat as he nudges your entrance, the tip of his cock pressing against you. You squirm beneath him, trying to buck your hips away from him, but his weight pins you down, trapping you in place.

His grip on your wrists tightens, and his other hand finds its way to the knife. He raises the blade, pressing the cold metal against your throat.

"Don’t move."

You hold still, terrified of the blade.

Sukuna chuckles, and you shiver, the sound sending a chill down your spine.

He leans closer, the mask grazing your skin. “I'd hate to have to cut you.”

He presses the knife harder against your throat, enough to draw a thin line of blood. You wince, hissing through gritted teeth, and he laughs, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates through his chest.

“There's my girl.”

He eases his hold on your wrists, sliding his hand up your arm, over your shoulder, and to the base of your throat. His fingers wrap around your neck, applying gentle pressure as he guides himself inside.

His cock stretches you, filling you completely, and you cry out, arching your back.

Fuck, it hurts, but it hurts so good.

“So tight,” he groans, his voice muffled through the mask. “I'm gonna make you take it all, princess.”

Your breath comes in shallow gasps, the feeling of his cock filling you taking over your senses. You're so wet, yet his size makes you feel like you're going to rip.

His grip on your neck tightens, and he begins to thrust, fucking you with deep, deliberate strokes.

You cry out, tears streaming down your face, and he picks up the pace, the sound of his hips slapping against yours echoing throughout the room.

“So fucking good,” he growls, his voice strained. “You're such a good little slut for me.”

His words send a jolt of pleasure through you, and you bite your lip, trying to suppress the moan that's threatening to escape.

You hate how much you love this.

“Don't hold back,” he coos, his hand leaving your throat and finding its way to your clit. His fingers rub tight circles over your sensitive bud, and you let out a strangled moan, the pressure building inside you.

You can feel yourself getting close, your walls clenching around him, and his thrusts become erratic, losing their rhythm.

He leans down, his mask brushing against your cheek, and his voice is a low growl in your ear.

“I want you to come for me, princess.”

He presses the knife against your throat again, just enough to remind you of its presence, and that's all it takes to

You come hard, screaming his name, and he follows, emptying himself inside you with a grunt.

His cock pulses, filling you, and the sensation is almost enough to send you into another orgasm.

He pulls out of you slowly, a trail of his cum dripping down your thigh.

“Mm, perfect,” he sighs, running his fingers over your skin.

You lay still, trembling from the aftershocks, and he takes a moment to admire the sight before him. You're a complete mess, covered in sweat and his cum.

Your hair is tangled and your cheeks are stained with tears. Your lips are red and swollen, and the cuts on your throat are still bleeding, the crimson droplets streaking down your neck.

You're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

“I could fuck you all day,” he hums, stroking his cock, already half hard again.

He slides his fingers over your slit, collecting his cum on his fingertips.

“And I will,” he purrs, bringing his hand to his lips. He licks his fingers clean, savoring the taste of you mixed with him.

“Mm, sweet” he moans.

You shiver, and he laughs, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You did so good for me, princess.”

He pulls his mask off and his pink hair cascades down, framing his handsome features. He tosses the mask aside, revealing his signature fanged smile.

“How'd you like my little surprise?”

“S-sukuna…”

He smirks. “Yes, baby?”

“I hate you,” you whisper. “You really scared me”

“Keheheh.” He laughs, shaking his head. “No, you don't.”

He pulls you into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and heavy, and the sensation sends shivers down your spine.

“You did so good,” he murmurs, his voice low and raspy.

“Kuna, please...,” you beg.

“Shh, I know, baby,” he says, brushing your hair back and pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I'll take care of you.”

“Should I show you some mercy,” he questions, whispering into your ear. Mercy. The safeword you and Sukuna had agreed upon when you first started dating. You gently shake your head and he nods. If you really wanted this to be over, you could say "mercy" or "red" and everything would stop.

His hands move to the back of your neck, and he gently massages your muscles, his fingers working their magic.

“So tense,” he teases. “Let's fix that.”

You groan, closing your eyes and letting the sensation of his touch wash over you.

You can feel his cock pressing against your thigh, already hard again.

“Such a whore,” he hums, his fingers digging into your skin. “Always ready for my cock.”

You squirm, trying to break free of his grip, but he holds you tight, his grip unrelenting.

“I'm going to fuck you again, princess,” he promises, his voice husky with desire. “I'm going to fuck you until you're screaming my name, begging me to stop.”

"Kuna!"

His fingers grip the back of your neck as he pins you down, his body heavy on top of yours.

You can feel his cock pressing against your ass, and his fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place.

“That's right,” he growls, his lips brushing against your ear. “Scream for me, baby.”

He rubs the tip of his cock up and down your wet slit. The mixture of both of your fluids being the perfect lube. He edges the angry, reddened head against your lower entrance. Once, twice, three times before he finally slams his cock into your ass, filling you completely, and you cry out, his name a broken prayer on your lips.

“Fuck, y/n,” he moans, his voice strained. “So. Fucking. Tight.” He thrusts with each word.

“It– it hurts,” you whimper, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

“Shh, I know, baby,” he soothes, his fingers tangling in your hair. He stops his movements in you, studying your face. “Just relax, let me take care of you.”

His grip on your neck loosens, his hand trailing down to your breast. He pinches your nipple, rolling the hardened nub between his fingers, and you moan, arching your back.

His lips brush against your cheek, feather-light kisses tracing along your jawline.

“That's it, baby,” he encourages, his voice husky with desire. “Just feel.”

He starts to move, pulling out slowly, then thrusting back in, burying himself deep inside you. You moan, your eyes rolling back, and he sets a slow, steady pace, his cock filling you completely with every stroke.

“Such a good little slut for me,” he coos, his fingers twisting in your hair. “Taking my cock like a champ.”

“K-kuna, please,” you gasp.

“Shh, I know,” he purrs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “Let me make you feel good, baby.”

You nod, biting back a sob. He presses his lips to yours, swallowing your cries, and his hands find their way to your breasts, his fingers squeezing and kneading the soft flesh.

You can feel the pressure building inside you, your body humming with anticipation, and you reach for him, your fingers gripping his hair as he pounds into you.

“S-sukuna, I'm–” you can barely get the words out, the feeling of his cock stretching you sending waves of pleasure through you.

“I know, princess,” he groans, his voice a low growl.

With one of his hands, he starts to vigorously rub your clit while his cock still pounds into your ass.

The feeling of his fingers on your clit and his cock filling you is too much, and you scream out, your body trembling as you come undone.

“Sukuna!” you exclaim, your legs shaking.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic.

He leans down, his lips ghosting over yours, and he whispers, “Come for me, y/n.”

With those words, he sends you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you. You cry out, your nails digging into his back.

“Oh, f-fuck,” he moans, his cock throbbing as he comes, filling you with his hot release.

He collapses on top of you, his body spent, and he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone. The tips of his pink hair tickling your face.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants, his breath ragged. “That was incredible.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, your voice hoarse. “It was.”

You both lay there, catching your breath, and enjoying the afterglow of your orgasms.

After a few minutes, he slowly pulls out, and you whimper at the loss, his cum dripping out of your ass and onto the sheets.

“I'm still mad that you scared me,” you pout into his chest. “I really thought someone had hurt you.”

“Keheheh,” he gives you his infamous laugh as a response. “Sorry, princess. It was the only way.”

You look at him, confusion written on your face, urging him to explain.

“I had Yuji throw on my clothes and sit out there,” he explains. “The brat owed me a favor, and since we’re twins, it was the perfect opportunity to trick you.”

“But, the tattoos…” you tilt your head skeptically. “How did you guys?”

“Sharpie,” he simply responds. “That’s why Gojo and I were at the store.”

You think about the plan, how intricate and well executed it was. He must have had this planned for weeks.

It was so perfectly Sukuna.

You sigh. You can't stay mad at him. Besides, it was originally your idea for him to surprise you with your mask and CNC kink. You just never imagined it would happen at the same time.

“Next time,” you warn him, pointing a finger in his face. “I'll be the one surprising you.”

“Keheheh,” his signature laugh reverberates. “I'll be looking forward to it.”

He presses his lips to yours, his kiss gentle and tender. “I love you, y/n,” he whispers. “Happy Valentine's Day.”

"I love you too, Kuna," you murmur back, closing your eyes and letting sleep claim you.

Sukuna smiles, content with his work.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” he kisses the top of your head.

It was definitely the perfect Valentine's day.

A/N y'all really should check @/sweetlandspos art out! I love her style and everything she draws is soo delicious! 🤤😫

A/N P.S. Sorry I'm late. I wanted to post this TWO WEEKS AGO for Valentine's, but I had bad writer's block and alot of irl stuff interfere. I'm gonna try to post more consistently though <3

dividers by @omi-resources & @cafekitsune

<- masterlist | jjk masterlist

230 notes · View notes

mntozakii · 1 year ago

Text

thinking about stepbrother jeno who is secretly obsessed with his little sister 💭

warnings: stepcest, handjob wonk womk

[NOT FINISHED YET I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT FHDJJSJSJ]

when his mother decides to marry again, jeno didn't expect to meet such cute and pretty thing like you. he learns that you are a few years younger than him and has two little brothers.

on the wedding day, he tries to make conversation with you but failed miserably. you didn't even bother to look at him and only speak a few words.

yeah, jeno admits that you're a doll but he doesn’t really like your attitude. he thinks that you're such a princess and probably gets whiny when things don't go in your way.

"daddy, can i go home?"

"daddy, it's so cold"

"daddy, i wanna go home"

ugh, such a demanding darling, he wants to hate you but you look so adorable whining to your father.

being the kind person he is, jeno offers to drive you home. he is surprised when you suddenly apologise to him.

"jeno, i'm so sorry if i was rude this evening" you mutter softly as you tell him about your flu. his palm immediately goes to your forehead and gasps at the burning heat, you must've felt fatigued for hours.

"it's okay sweetheart, you should take a rest" he reassures as he buckles up your seatbelt, you are quick to fall asleep as he drives you home.

jeno meets you for the second time when your father invites him for dinner at home. after that, jeno regularly schedule a meeting with his new baby sister. it is clear that he has a favourite among his step siblings but to not make it obvious, he meets with your little brothers and spends time with them too.

you have always feel jealous of your friends who have an older brother, all your little brothers do is bully you. hence, you love being around jeno; your step brother who is kind, caring, and gentle.

jeno who picks you up from the dormitory so you can stay at his home during the weekend, he will bring you to a cat cafe because you've been telling him how much you miss your cats.

jeno who brings you on a yacht trip so he can be with you all the time, he loves when you are sitting close to him with the prettiest top that does nothing to cover your chest.

his hands linger around your body as he listens to stories about your stupid crush on a boy named haechan.

jeno thinks that you look so adorable giggling and twirling your hair merely by thinking about a date, such a cutie loser.

your lovely jeno who lets you sit on his lap as he reapply the sunscreen on your face and body. he takes an extra time to put it on your back as his thoughts run wild, it feels so nice to hold you.

jeno asks the chef to prepare strawberry smoothie because he knows how much you love it. he keeps you seated on his lap as he watches you drink the large sized smoothie while his gaze is fixed on your tummy.

"baby, you have to finish it" jeno stops you from putting the glass down on the mini table, he clicks his tongue in disapproval when he hears you whine.

"it's good for your health" jeno whispers and kisses your cheek when you finish it all. when jeno notices that you're getting antsy, his lips curled into a sinister smirk before bouncing you on his lap.

your bladder is so full but you're just too shy to tell jeno that you want to go to the restroom, you bit on your lower lip as you try to focus on jeno's stories about the movie he watched last night. he loves seeing you struggle to keep your composure up, he can only laugh when you ran off to go to the restroom.

jeno who likes to provide for his princess !!

even though your father has told him to not give you any allowance, he will still let you to keep his credit card and spend it as much as you want. jeno doesn't mind seeing his account gets billed thousands at the end of the month, as long as you're happy then he's happy.

whenever you

when jeno gets home from work, he didn't expect to see you crying in his room. you quickly run to his arms and sob pathetically as he rubs your back to comfort you.

the date went well except for one part, you learn that you give terrible handjob. haechan doesn't say it explicitly but it feels humiliating to know that you're bad at it by judging his reaction.

"nono, please teach me how to do it" jeno feels dizzy when you make a little wanking movement before you try to unbuckle his belt. you even promised to not tell anyone and made pinky promise with jeno so what could possibly go wrong?

jeno tells you to sit down on the bed and unbuckles his belt, he unzips his pants before pulling out his semi-hard cock. he stands dangerously close to you and chuckles seeing you stare at him with glossy eyes.

"princess, can you spit on my hand?" jeno holds out his palm and pats your head when you obey him. he starts stroking himself while the other hand plays with your hair before he wipes the tear on your cheek.

"you can be gentle or firm with it" jeno tells as he glides his thumb on the bulbous tip, he gives himself a nice and consistent stroke as he watches your reaction. it is honestly endearing seeing you pay attention to him, he bet that you'd take note using your zebra pens if you could.

jeno takes your hand and wraps it around his cock, he puts his hand over yours and continues jerking himself off.

"jeno, does it feel good?" you ask out of curiousity as you watch the way his cock grow bigger and the tip looks painfully hard.

you're too good, jeno can't even form a sentence. he just hums lazily and gently tug on your hair to take a better look of your fce.

"you did well so baby, let's practice more, hmm?"

#nct #nct imagines #nct smut #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #jeno #jeno imagines #jeno smut #jeno x reader

851 notes · View notes

jiinxswife · 5 months ago

Text

Choosing you Jinx x Fem!reader

warnings: season 2 spoilhers, jinx choosing reader over ekko, reader being insecure and jealous of ekko, crying autor note: this is pretty much some short of part two of how would they meet, but you can read this post without having to read the first one, just another silly drabble of mine

autor note: this is for us, weird girlies who feel jealous of ekko and want jinx for oursevles. lets have a treat

jinx will be written on blue, reader on pink

Hallucinations will be written on red

you dont quite to know when or how you found out about him, probably it was due to Jinx's mentdown rambles, how she said his name, how it was "always a dance with her", before her breakdown was again, over her death family. you tried not to think about it, after all, he was probably just her childhood boyfriend or something, who would be jealous of that? you've had childhood boyfriends yourself, and you definitely woulnd't leave jinx for them, so why are you so scared of him coming back to her life?

you try not to fuzz or think much about it over the next weeks, the last thing you need is your girlfriend to think that now she can't vent or express her feelings to you because you can get sad\hurt over things she says or feels, it was hard enough to get her to emotionally trust you, you don't want to fuck things up

You hide your feelings well, even from you, until one day, you caught yourself biting your just-made nails, taking off parts of the nail polish, that matches jinx’s and tearing up while jinx was showering, allowing, even if only for some minutes, anxiety and fear to consume you. When you hear the water noise ceasing, you quickly wipes your tears and takes some deep breaths, calming down before jinx entered in the room, clean and fresh

“ugh , toots, I think you should wash my hair tomorrow, I don’t wash it was well as you do” she says, but her untouched, dry braids show that she didn’t even try to and just wanted you to spoil her

“Sure thing, love” you answer, earning an eyebrow raise from her, probably surprised at your lack of teasing and snark answers. Her eyes go all over you, searching for any sign of injury or sickness before she stares at your hands, noticing the state of your nails, and, knowing that they were made not so long ago, she was able to deduce that you are worried about something since whenever you were, you would pick on them. She walks to you and sits down on the bed, by your side, wrapping an arm around you, hand softly squeezing your shoulder, in an act to remind herself that you’re real, not an hallucination

“Toots? What’s wrong? You seem off” she questions, before you wave her off with a smile “I’m fine, just extra tired today” you say, ignoring how dry your throat is starting to feel just for being asked if something is wrong

“Yeah, fine my ass” jinx says, rolling her eyes and bitting her lower lip in an attempt to decide what to do “don’t lie to me, what’s wrong?”

You close your hands into fists; bitting your lower lip, habit you got from the girl sat by your side. You look away, in an attempt to not cry “it’s stupid and“ before you could finish, jinx softly hits you on the head with the arm that was previously wrapped around you “if you’re crying, it’s not stupid” she tries to add a playful smile “and I think my girlfriend is smarter then to cry over stupid things” jinx sighs when she doesn’t have a positive answer from you, her smile fades and she opens her mouth to speak before you cut her off “you wouldn’t leave me, would you?”

“You’re not giving her enough” “you are not good enough” “you’re not worth of her love”

Milo’s, Claggor’s and Silco’s voice echoes through Jinx’s head, making her mind fuzzy and unable to think of an answer “I- you- fuck” you feel tears starting to form on your face “I heard you speaking sometimes about a guy named Ekko” you look down, tears falling down on your lap “how it’s ‘always a face with him’” you face your girlfriend for the first time since you started talking, your eyes filled with tears, showing insecurity and vulnerability “if he came back to your life, you wouldn’t leave me for him; would you?”

Your words take Jinx out of guard, she tries to answer, but once more you cut her off “I know how you didn’t quite want me in your life, I remember how you tried to get rid of me and how hard it was- you stop yourself, looking away and you tearing up even more, your overthinking becoming a mess of feelings and words inbuilt head- hard for you to fall for me, and hearing about that Ekko guy started to make me think that maybe all of that was because you were waiting for him to come back, and you’re just with me because you lost hope but can still leave me if he comes back” you rub your templates as you cry, moving to wipe your tears, refusing to look at Jinx “and I know it’s stupid to be jealous over someone you mentioned on a mental breakdown, and I didn’t want to tell you because i didn’t want you to worry that when showing me your feelings you might hurt me” you’re embarrassed of yourself and at lost of words, wiping pathetically your own tears as jinx moves to hug you, embracing you completely “I’m so sorry”

“Fuck.. toots, look” she mumbles her voice a bit hoarse from the tension and meaning of the moment, she was never able to express herself well with words “yeah, I guess I did short of like Ekko once,” she sighs, thinking of a manner to decode her feelings into words “but not like how i like you. I had a crush on him when we were kids, but then we stayed without talking for seven years” she says as she manages to hug you even more “and once we reunited” she chuckles, a mix of a bitter chuckle and a lighthearted one “well, it was to try to kill each other, and then to … stop me from doing a big shit” you look at her, trembling, hurt, vulnerable, but obviously wanting, no, needing to believe jinx “I’m not in love with him, toots. I’m..” she sighs, saying that was never easy for her “I’m in love with you, okay? I wouldn’t be dating you otherwise. It took me long to fall for you” she softly kiss the top of your head “longer then it should, but I’m smitten. I won’t leave you for anyone, much less for Ekko”

she grabs one of your hands and softly squeeze it while still hugging you “and that thing about worrying that I might worry about hurting when I vent to you, it’s okay, I won’t worry. You are allowed to feel hurt to.” She chuckles and smiles at you “heh! That was a lot of “worry” for just a phrase, right, hun?” She jokes, getting a soft chuckle from you

“I- thank you. I love you” you say to your girlfriend, hugging her tightly as you close your eyes, letting your last tears fall before being consumed by a feeling of love and comfort “same for you; toots; same for ya”

#jinx x y/n #jinx #jinx arcane #jinx league of legends #jinx x reader #jinx x you #arcane zaun #arcane #oc x canon #canon x oc #canon x reader #canon x you

146 notes · View notes

wyuovvia · 1 year ago

Text

— BRAT TAMING 101!

Kento Nanami x Male Y/N || Content Warnings: minor writing smut, nsfw, idea/request from my old account (@ballsinyojaws2000), anal, blowjob, nudes, sending nudes while at work, semi-semi-public(??), rough, creampie, cum swallowing, throatfucking, married y/n + kento, subbot y/n & domtop kento, rest of writing under cut || Word Count: 2,212 || Followers When Posted: 95 ||Author's Note: told you guys a fic would be posted tonight || property of ©wyuovvia . all rights reserved . do not plagiarize , repost , or translate any of my work without my permission .

ALBUM ENTRY!: Being home alone without your husband is boring, so why not spice things up by sending him nudes while he's at work? Who knows what'll happen! You'll only find out if you try it!

Kento is busy at work, stuck doing what seems like an endless amount of paperwork because his co-workers couldn’t finish it. It was currently 11:56 PM. He better be getting paid more for this. Kento is on the verge of just leaving the building right here, right now, but of course, he can’t do that because then he would probably fired. The job has adequate pay anyway. It’s enough for him to get good money if he works enough. When Kento is about to start yet another portion of work he had, his phone buzzes on the desktop near him.

He checks his phone, and it was [Y/N]. But out of all things, he didn't expect [Y/N] to send him nudes while he was working at all. In the picture, [Y/N] was laid out on the bed with a dildo in his ass and a vibrator pressed against his cock. The message that [Y/N] sent after that was "Miss you Kento <3"

Kento's heart skipped a beat as he gazed at the explicit image of [Y/N] lying seductively on the bed, the dildo firmly planted inside him and the vibrator teasingly touching his erect member. A mix of shock and excitement coursed through him. Without thinking twice, he quickly locked his office door, pulled his phone closer, and replied to the message, "You're such a bad boy, playing with yourself while I'm stuck here." He closed his eyes, trying to imagine himself in the dildo’s place, feeling the sensations of [Y/N] squeezing around him and begging him for more.

After a few seconds, Kento continued, "But you know what they say - bad boys deserve even better punishment. Once I get home, I'm going to spank that cute little ass of yours until it turns bright red. And then, I'll slide into you nice and slow, reminding you who owns you, you horny brat." With each word, his grip tightened around his phone, and his jaw clenched as thoughts of dominating [Y/N] consumed his mind.

A few seconds later, [Y/N] sends a picture of his cock dripping cum. The message [Y/N] sends after says "you should come home soon" Kento nearly dropped his phone as he saw the fresh wave of explicit content from [Y/N]. His husband's cock glistening with cum against the soft sheets, the messy aftermath of self-indulgence. His pulse quickened, and he swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure amidst the carnal images. Taking a deep breath, he texted back, "You naughty little thing, already cumming without me? Fine, I'll see how much more you can handle when I get home. You'd better clean up before I arrive, or I might show you just how much worse it could get."

With a final, smug grin, Kento shot one last message before shoving his phone back into his pocket. "And don't think you're off the hook yet. I'm bringing a surprise for you tonight - something to remind you of our little arrangement. Get ready to feel every inch of it, my dear husband.", he whispered to himself, a wicked smile spreading across his lips. He couldn't wait any longer; he grabbed his jacket and headed towards their apartment, eager to claim his prize.

As he walks to his car and turns on the engine, his cock starts to throb in his pants. He can barely focus fully on the road due to his mind thinking of all the things he's going to do to [Y/N] as punishment. Kento's grip on the steering wheel tightened as his throbbing cock strained against his pants, an unwelcome distraction as he focused on navigating the busy streets back home. The thought of punishing [Y/N] for his impudence was both enticing and arousing, filling him with a primal sense of dominance. He knew [Y/N] was enjoying this game, and so was he. But he couldn't let it affect his driving.

With a deep breath, Kento tried to redirect his thoughts to the road ahead, his mind racing between visions of [Y/N]'s eager body and the need to safely transport himself to their apartment. Though his heart pounded in anticipation, he managed to keep his focus and eventually pulled into the parking lot of their building. As he exited the car, he took one last deep breath and reminded himself that he was the one in control. Once inside, he would show [Y/N] just who wore the pants in their marriage, and he couldn't wait to sink into his husband's tight warmth.

Kento quickly made his way up to their room as fast as he could. He pulls out his keys, unlocks the door, and immediately rushes to the bedroom where he finds [Y/N] teasing his cock with the vibrator still, and the dildo that was in him before was next to him on the bed. In between [Y/N]'s legs, there was still cum on his cock and the bedsheets below. [Y/N] only had one of Kento's shirts on and he looks up when Kento enters the room as he blushes and smirks at him.

Kento's blood ran hot as he caught sight of [Y/N], still teasing himself with the vibrator, the dildo lying beside him on the bed. His eyes immediately locked onto the residue of his husband's earlier climax, a testament to his naughty behavior. His heart raced, and his cock twitched at the thought of taking [Y/N] right then and there.

Stepping into the room, Kento's eyes never left [Y/N]'S smirking face. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood, otherwise, you'd be punished already," he hissed, his voice thick with desire. "Get up, and get the rest of your clothes off. We have a lot to cover tonight."

As he spoke, Kento's fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning it and shrugging it off his shoulders. He made quick work of his tie and unzipped his pants, revealing his hardened member. "I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget, my naughty husband."

[Y/N] takes Kento's shirt off of himself and after that, Kento lays on the bed and [Y/N] lays across him with his head laying on Kento's lower abdomen. [Y/N]'s bold move caught Kento off guard, but he found himself liking the initiative his husband had shown. With a smirk, he patted the spot on his abdomen, beckoning [Y/N] to settle in comfortably. As [Y/N] lay across him, Kento felt a surge of power, his gaze lingering on the curve of his husband's ass. Kento grabs one of the pillows and places it so [Y/N] laying on it, and it's under [Y/N]'s waist.

"Spread your legs, boy," Kento commanded, his voice stern as he adjusted the pillow beneath [Y/N]. "You're going to get exactly what you deserve, so be ready." As his husband complied, he couldn't help but admire the view before him. He reached for one of [Y/N]'s plump cheeks, giving it a sharp smack. "Keep your legs open, or I'll make sure your ass is red by the time I'm done with you."

With that, Kento's eyes locked onto [Y/N]'s eager mouth as it engulfed his cock. He groaned, his hand tightening on the sheet as [Y/N]'s skilled tongue and lips worked their way down Kento's cock.

Nanami puts his hand on the back of [Y/N]'s head and slowly moves him up and down his cock. As Nanami starts to make [Y/N] go lower onto his cock, [Y/N] gags a bit and moans around his dick each time his head moves back down. While Nanami's one hand moves [Y/N]'s head up and down, the other is reaching over and spanking [Y/N]'s ass.

As [Y/N]'s gagging moans echoed in the room, Nanami couldn't help but smile. The sight of his husband's face contorted around his cock, the feeling of [Y/N]'s throat muscles pulsating around him - it was all too much. He leaned back, his hand tightening on the back of [Y/N]'s head as he guided him to the tip, letting him catch his breath before plunging back down.

The spankings continued, his palm meeting [Y/N]'s ass with a satisfying slap. He felt the sting, the heat, the mixture of pain and pleasure that only he could provide. "That's right, take it all, you little brat. I'll decide when you can breathe." Nanami's voice was firm, his control over this situation absolute.

[Y/N]'s moans grew louder, his body bucking with each spank, his cheeks flushing a deep red. Nanami continued to thrust into [Y/N]'s mouth, the sensation of his husband's warm throat surrounding him almost too much to bear. He was close, his release building with each thrust; but he wasn't done yet.

[Y/N]'s moans washed over Nanami like a tidal wave, each one pushing him closer to the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, he felt his orgasm approaching. "That's it, my boy, make me cum. Make me spill my seed down your throat," he growled, his grip on [Y/N]'s hair tightening.

His orgasm hit him like a freight train, his hips bucking involuntarily as he filled [Y/N]'s mouth with his seed. [Y/N] gags as his eyes widen and he tries to swallow the cum, but some of it drips down his chin. He gazed down at his husband, his chest heaving, his breaths ragged. "That's for teasing yourself without me," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Once he had caught his breath, Nanami pulled out of [Y/N]'s mouth, his cock still dripping with cum. He leaned down, brushing his lips against [Y/N]'s ear. "Now, it's your turn," he murmured, his voice laced with promise and desire. Nanami's fingers traced the curve of [Y/N]'s ass, lingering on the red marks he'd left behind. "Turn over, and get ready for me."

[Y/N] whimpered and then turned away from Nanami, and then he got into a position where his ass was up, and his head was pressed into the pillows. [Y/N]'s hole was practically clenching around nothing, begging to be stuffed.

Nanami's heart swelled with pride at the sight of [Y/N], eager and ready for what was to come. His husband's neediness was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of dominance. He reached for a bottle of lube on the nightstand, slicking his fingers before slowly sliding one inside [Y/N]'s eager hole.

[Y/N] gasped, his body trembling as Nanami prepared him for what was to come. "You're so ready for me, aren't you?" he purred, his voice thick with desire. With a second finger joining the first, he felt [Y/N]'s muscles clench around him, a testament to his arousal. "I bet you can't wait to feel my cock inside you, can you?"

Nanami gently stretched [Y/N]'s hole, knowing he had to be careful. He didn't want to cause any pain, only pleasure. When he was satisfied with the preparation, he removed his fingers, slicking his cock with more lube. He was already hard again. Lining himself up at [Y/N]'s entrance, he paused, looking into his husband's eyes. "Ready?"

"M-mhm... p-please Kento.. 'need your cock..." Nanami couldn't resist the pleading look in [Y/N]'s eyes. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed into [Y/N]'s tight heat, groaning as his husband's muscles clenched around him. He hesitated, allowing [Y/N] to adjust, then began to thrust, setting a slow, deep rhythm.

Each thrust brought a moan from [Y/N], his hips bucking to meet Nanami's advances. "Fuck, you're tight," he growled, his hands gripping [Y/N]'s hips, guiding their movements. "Even after getting yourself off while I was at work you aren't prepped enough for my cock?~" The feel of [Y/N]'s ass wrapped around his cock, the way [Y/N]'s body responded to his every touch, it was pure ecstasy.

Nanami's grip tightened, his thrusts becoming more forceful as his arousal climbed. "You like this, don't you? Being taken by me, like this?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. Sweat dripped down their intertwined bodies, the scent of sex thick in the air. He leaned down, his lips brushing against [Y/N]'s ear. "Soon, I'm going to fill you up with my cum, my good boy."

"Ah!~ Ngh- Kento!~ Slow- Ah~ Slow downngh!!~" [Y/N] clenched around him as he desperately tried to adjust to the speed and roughness of his thrusts. Nanami couldn't help but laugh at the sight of [Y/N]'s struggles. "Not tonight, my pet. Tonight, you're going to take it however I give it to you." He continued his intense pace, watching as [Y/N]'s body began to adjust, the clenching becoming more rhythmic.

[Y/N]'s moans grew louder, mingling with the slap of their bodies connecting. Nanami felt the familiar build-up, his release nearing. "You're doing good, [Y/N]. Keep taking it." He leaned down, his teeth grazing [Y/N]'s neck as he whispered, "Soon, my dear, you'll be mine completely."

With a final, powerful thrust, Nanami's orgasm tore through him. He groaned, his seed filling [Y/N] as he held onto his husband's hips, not wanting to let go. They stayed that way for a moment, Nanami's breath ragged, his heart pounding. "Are you satisfied now?" he asked, his voice thick with aftershocks. He slowly pulled out, watching as [Y/N]'s hole slowly closed around the absence of his cock and how his semen slowly dripped out of his twitching hole. Maybe [Y/N] would send him more nudes if it always ended like this.

392 notes · View notes

i-think-he-is-adorable-too · 1 year ago

Text

In your dreams

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: You had just gone to sleep, only to find him in your dreams. Could he be real or is he just a figment of your imagination.

A/N: Hello! I have this idea for a series, let me know if you would like to read it and I will keep writing it. I promise! If you like it I will stablish a calendar and post regularly. What do you think? Should I do it? Let me know!

It almost felt like it started out of nowhere, but if you were to really think about it, you would remember how much your soul yearned for it, specially that night.

You had fallen asleep crying into your pillow, muffling the sounds to not wake up anyone. Next thing you know you were standing in a simple motel room with two double beds and a tv. The man sitting on the bed was mumbling to himself while trying to fix the remote control. The moment you set your eyes on him, even from behind, you recognized him. You could have thought about the actor who played him, but somehow you knew. Ultimately it was your dream.

“Dean?” you wondered out loud. He stood up and turned to face you quickly. “Who are you? What are you doing in my dreams?” He asked. You stared at him confused, “What do you mean? This is my dream.” You clarified. “No, no, sweetheart. This is my dream, I’m really sure about it.” He argued. “Well, we can agree to disagree. Because I’m certain it´s my dream. After all you are fictional.” You responded.

“Woah, whoa. Stop right there. What do you mean fictional?” He demanded. “You are not real, you Dean Winchester are a fictional character from Supernatural, and you are played by Jensen Ackles.” You said exasperated. You had thought this dream would be good, it wasn’t every night you dreamt of your favorite fictional boyfriend, but the conversation was getting ridiculous. You have had crazy dreams, but here you were, explaining to a tv character that he wasn’t real.

He threw his head into his hands and said “Not this again. Are you an angel? Have I been sent into that weird world again where Sam is married to Ruby?”

“What? No, that was just an episode. And that’s actually similar to my world, but you haven’t been sent anywhere, because you are just a figment of my imagination.” You explained. “But that’s just the thing sweetheart, I’m real. You however, I have my doubts, I probably saw you somewhere on the street and my mind is toying with me.” He finished thoughtful. “And anyway, even if you were real, and I was fictional, why would you be dreaming of me?” He asked teasingly.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and you stopped making eye contact. Great, now your subconscious was embarrassing you. “No reason, you know how dreams can be.” You said downplaying it. He walked towards you. “Sorry to disappoint sweetheart but it won’t be that kind of dream… unless you really want it to be.” He winked, looked at the bed and laughed. “Stop it” You said, blushing.

“So… now that we have stablished that neither of us believes the other one is real, and if you were, you would probably be in love with me. I’d like to know your name.” He expressed. You rolled your eyes, trying to act unaffected. “Y/N” You said. “My name is Y/N”

“Y/N” he tested your name “I like it. It fits you.” He continued while watching you intensely. You felt a little dizzy, probably because you were holding your breath. It felt as if his eyes were really pulling you in. He took another step towards you, and before you could say anything else, you heard your alarm ring and opened your eyes to find yourself back in your bed.

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #spn #supernatural imagine #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester smut

163 notes · View notes

thankskenpenders · 2 years ago

Text

And now for something new

So, here's something I was never planning on doing, but I just couldn't shake the idea... Thanks Ken Penders is gaining a sister blog featuring an entirely different comic franchise!

Introducing... Thanks Steve Ditko, a blog where I read the Earth-616 Spider-Man comics, starting all the way back in the '60s! It's gonna be much more casual and less thorough than how I run things here on TKP, though, which I'll explain in a sec.

If seeing me post weird bits from old Spider-Man comics sounds fun and you need no further info, then just head right on over to Thanks Steve Ditko. But for longtime TKP readers, I know you probably have questions...

Number one: Why?

Spider-Man's always been my favorite superhero, and with the Spider-Verse movies kicking ass and my excitement building for the new Insomniac game, I've been in a Spidey mood. Inevitably, a thought occurred to me: Maybe I should actually read the comics that everything else is built off of and see the wildly varying contributions of all the original creators, rather than filtering them through big budget adaptations. If I can power through One Piece and all these other manga with hundreds of chapters, it can't be that hard... right?

And, well, after a few issues I quickly realized that my options were to either clog up my other accounts with random Spider-Man panels for years, or to just make a side blog. And so the side blog was born.

Two: Will this blog replace Thanks Ken Penders?

NO!!!!!!!!!

Okay but prove it

To allow the two to exist side-by-side, Thanks Steve Ditko will have a different format than what Thanks Ken Penders developed. Rather than an in-depth guided tour that critically analyzes every story beat of every issue, TSD will just be a place for amusing panels and brief thoughts as I casually read the comics at my own pace.

If you've seen me make a few tweets about reading Spider-Man recently, I'm basically just moving that to a dedicated Tumblr. It's a place for me to dump these things so that it doesn't fill up my media tab on Twitter for the next decade. (You know, assuming Twitter is still around in a decade.) There will be many issues where I only post two panels that I thought were funny. There will be issues where I don't have anything to say at all. Maybe I'll reach a run that I just cannot get into, and I start skipping around more. Who knows!

This may sound similar to what I thought this blog would be before it blew up. Aside from the simple fact that there's already mountains of Spider-Man commentary out there and therefore less of a void for me to fill, one of the main steps I'll be taking to avoid repeating the past is not enabling an ask box on TSD. I do not need people to ask me to go into ten times more detail on everything. I do not need to write seven essay-length responses to questions about Spider-Man minutiae every day. I do not need a place for people to chide me for not covering certain scenes, issues, or ancillary series.

It also won't have any kind of update schedule. I'm trying to keep it very casual. I'm reading these comics at my own pace, and if I feel like sharing a moment or commenting on something while doing so? It goes there. That's it.

(On the subject of format changes, I'm also listing the issue, writer, and penciller in the body of every post. This is a thing I wish I'd done on TKP so that people didn't misattribute every weird Archie Sonic panel I post to Penders.)

Three: So when will TKP come back from hiatus? You said it'd come back after you finished SLARPG!

I don't know! Sorry. I have a couple things on the backburner right now for TKP, but I'm not sure when I'll get back to proper updates where I read more comics.

I wanted to bring TKP back this year, and that's still possible. The main hurdle is that I want to reread my own archive (again) as a refresher, which is, uh. A lot of posts. I've developed a high standard for myself on here, and I feel like I wouldn't be doing my job right if I forgot half the ongoing subplots and character arcs and didn't bring them up in my analysis. Especially when I'm discussing the work of an author as obsessed with continuity as Ian Flynn. Unfortunately, the nature of this blog means that every time I go on another long hiatus for Life Reasons I have even more comic continuity to catch up on than last time.

(This is a big part of why I'm making Thanks Steve Ditko an extremely casual blog instead of promising to become a Lore Expert on 60+ years of Marvel.)

Mostly I've just been very burnt out this year after having finally finished a video game that took almost eight years to make. I haven't really had the energy for any creative projects, including TKP. But I feel a little bit of a spark here with Spider-Man, so I'm chasing that feeling to try to get back into the swing of blogging about comics - no pun intended.

So, basically, bear with me on this as I start this low-energy side project. But hopefully folks will enjoy Thanks Steve Ditko as its own thing, too.

Look forward to goofy shit like this

#tkp post

384 notes · View notes

fanficsbysteve · 6 months ago

Text

Authors Note: So that "Make Me Write" inspired me so I finished this story after I got home from work last night. I stayed up later than I wanted to so I waited until this morning to post. I've tagged the people below as they were the ones who got me to get this finished. Hopefully you enjoy the full story: @reads8hoursperday @weewookinard I should really make a Tag List for anyone who wants to be tagged when I post anything on here. I put a "Keep Reading" where I stopped with my Make Me Write so you can see all the good stuff that came to my brain afterwards under that cut.

Rating: G

W/C: 2735

***

Tommy sat at the bar, slowly sipping on the drink in front of him. Two fingers of scotch on the rocks. His drink of choice for the night at least. He hated what he had done to Evan. But it had to be done. Tommy was just a phase with Evan. He didn’t see any of the trauma, the scars that Tommy had carefully concealed from the world. A mask he kept up to avoid the pain. A mask that was slowly slipping off.

Sal Deluca walked up and sat on the stool next to him, “What’s up, homo?”

“You do realize that if I were anyone else,” Tommy looked up from his drink to Sal, “That would probably get you punched.”

“Yeah, well I’m me and you are you,” Sal said, “So what’s up? What has you sitting here drinking,” Sal sniffed the drink, “Some very top shelf scotch,” Sal motioned for the same from the bartender.

Tommy felt tears welling up in his eyes. He sniffed a couple times before he stopped the tears from falling. His voice was quiet, “I ended things with Evan.”

Sal took his drink, “Damn,” he took a sip, “You really were into Baby Buckley. What happened?”

Tommy finished off his drink, “It just all went wrong,” Tommy felt the tears welling up again, “It just went so wrong. He went on this long talk about admiring me. He talked about how brave I was. It was overwhelming. He didn’t see me.”

“And you just ended it?” Sal looked over at Tommy, “Pretty stupid of you,” Sal laughed a bit. Tommy looked up at Sal while he motioned for another drink. Sal continued, “Did you at least try to understand where he was coming from?”

“He said all this stuff, then asked me to move in with him,” Tommy said, “He’s new to all this. To being a member of the LGBT community. I’m just the shiny new thing for him. Like everything shiny and new, you eventually get bored of it and find something else that’s shiny and new. I couldn’t handle being tossed away by someone I love,” Tommy didn’t catch his words quickly enough.

“Someone you love, eh?” Sal raised an eyebrow. Tommy mentally cursed himself to letting that slip. He had been so good at keeping control. But Evan. Evan made him lose control, “And in all your talks about admiration, did you actually tell him that?”

Tommy shook his head, “I didn’t want to push him away,” Tommy explained, “I didn’t want to be too forward and to be too needy. I was scared if I told him that he would freak out and things would end.”

“Well things did end but not because he freaked out, I guess,” Sal mentioned, “What I’m getting here, and I could be very wrong because I don’t really get how gay minds work, is that Buckley decided to jump ahead a few steps.”

“Jump ahead?” Tommy was confused, “What does that even mean?”

“Well neither one of you mentioned the dreaded L word,” Sal continued, “But Buckley decided that he wanted you to move in. Now I know in my love life, the entire moving in part doesn’t happen until after you have had a lengthy discussion about feelings, mutuality of them, and discuss moving things to another level.”

Tommy just stared at Sal. Oddly enough what he was saying was making sense. But Tommy couldn’t just fix things after he went nuclear on his relationship with Evan. A sense of realization started to come across Tommy’s face.

“So, what happened is Buckley moved ahead to the move in with him phase of things, which is a couple steps ahead of where you should have been,” Sal didn’t notice any change in Tommy’s look, “What that should have clued you into is that this boy has feelings for you in return. Feelings he doesn’t fully understand even though if rumours are true, he should know what Love feels like as he’s broken more than a few women’s hearts over the years.”

“I have to go,” Tommy put some money down on the bar, “Thank you Sal,” Tommy pulled Sal into a hug, “I know this isn’t your forte but thank you for letting me talk and telling me how stupid I am.”

Tommy got up to leave, “I would like to point out,” Sal replied, “That I did not actually call you stupid. Just pointed out that Buckley jumped the gun a little.”

Tommy wasn’t paying attention at that point. He was heading out the door as fast as he could get out. He hailed a cab after he got out. He wasn’t stupid enough to drive after he had been drinking. He was a first responder. He had seen what drunk driving can do.

The cab pulled out and Tommy gave him the address to Evan’s loft. Got he hoped he was still home. He checked his phone to see what time it was and saw a few messages from Eddie. He unlocked his phone and went to the message app.

ED: What kind of dumbass are you?

ED: I have a very drunk Buck on my couch.

ED: I think he’s passed out and I think he’s crying in his sleep.

ED: I seriously want to know. What kind of dumbass are you?

Tommy asked the driver to change where they were heading and gave him Eddie’s address instead. While they were driving, he frantically started to message Eddie.

TK: I’m the worst kind of dumbass.

TK: I just freaked out. He started talking about admiring me, and how I was transformative for him. And then he asked me to move in and it was all too much and brought back some trauma that happened years ago.

TK: I’m just a dumbass, ok. I’m on my way to your place right now. Don’t let Evan leave.

ED: Considering how drunk he is I hadn’t planned on it.

ED: So, he asked you to move in and it freaked you out?

TK: You have no idea the things I’ve been suppressing throughout the years. I’ve crafted a very intricate mask that I don’t let down. Nobody has seen the real Tommy in years because I hide him so well.

ED: Jesus dude. And you couldn’t just talk to Buck about all this? You had to rip his heart out and stomp on it?

TK: I wasn’t thinking ok. I was stupid and in love and I didn’t want to get hurt when he inevitably found someone new.

ED: This idiot is in love with you, you idiot. You were practically made for each other.

Tommy was shocked at that last message. I mean Sal had clued him into that with his “Baby Buckley jumped a few steps” speech but this was just more confirmation of that.

TK: He never told me that.

ED: Well, you did break up with him. I’m quite sure he meant to say that but you sorta left.

TK: I get that I was in the straight world for less than a blip so I’m not 100% certain how you would do it, but I’m pretty sure that a person should say ‘I love you’ before they ask you to move from your house with a backyard and a garage and a car lift into their tiny loft.

ED: We all know Buck is an idiot. You are the one who decided to date him and give him a second chance after all that Ally talk. You should have just assumed he was being an idiot again and just went with it. I highly doubt he would have expected you to move into his Loft.

TK: I’m almost at your place. I’ll discuss the intricacies of the gay world with you one day. Today however is not that day.

Tommy’s cab pulled up in front of Eddie’s house. Tommy paid the driver, thanked him, and got out, almost running towards the door. Eddie was already waiting at the door for Tommy as he came barreling through, “He’s in the living room,” Eddie called as he ran past.

Tommy got to the living room and there was Evan curled up on the couch. He looked so small and fragile. Tommy could hear some sniffling coming from the couch. He felt his heart ripping apart again. He gently walked toward the end where Evan’s head was laying. Gently lifting up Evan’s head and slipping onto the couch, Tommy put his head onto his lap, gently stroking his hair. Evan sniffled and curled up deeper into Tommy’s lap, “Tommy,” he said quietly.

“I’m here,” Tommy replied, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Evan sighed, and then jolted up, “TOMMY!” he yelled almost falling off the couch.

Tommy was jolted as well. Evan sat up right and stared at Tommy, “Hey,” Tommy said.

Evan looked at Tommy, eyes puffy from the tears that Tommy caused, “What are you doing here?” Evan asked, his voice hoarse, he was very drunk. The beer bottles littering the table didn’t shake that assumption. Eddie was standing in the entrance to the living area. He was staying away from all of this. Tommy couldn’t blame him.

“Well after what happened between us,” Tommy went on, “I went to a bar and had a couple drinks. I called Sal cause I needed to talk,” Tommy noticed the slight confusion on Evan’s face, “Sal and I used to be in the 118. He got transferred to the 122 by Bobby years ago. Anyways, I sat and talked with Sal, and he gave me a moment of clarity. Eddie helped it along. And I realized that I was stupid.”

“You won’t hear me argue,” Evan said.

“Evan,” Tommy choked, his own tears starting to slide down his face, “You are the missing part of my soul. I didn’t realize it fully until I had lost you. I felt complete, and then when I left earlier, I felt a part of me stay with you. And I know you don’t want to hear this from me after what I said to you,” Tommy took a breath, “And I don’t blame you if you don’t forgive me. But I love you more than life itself,” Tommy exhaled a deep breath that he felt he had been holding all evening, “I didn’t think I could love again after all that had happened to me in the past, and I didn’t want to. But it found me and it scared me.”

Evan was abashed with what he was being told but he kept quiet and let Tommy continue, “That day when you were hosting your funeral for Billy Boils, that was the day I knew,” Tommy felt tears welling up in his eyes, “I knew that you were the one. The one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. And I started to realize that I was I love with you,” Tommy’s tears started to fall again, “Something about earlier. You just unexpectedly started talking about admiring me, and how I was transformative like your relationship with Abby, and don’t get me wrong, Abby is a wonderful woman who I hurt, but she was also transformative for me as well, just in a different way. And then you asked me to move in. And something just snapped in my brain. Something just screamed ‘This can’t last, you’ve been the first for someone, but you are never the last.’ And I let those fears control my actions.”

“I want you to be my last,” Evan finally got words out, “Just because I’m new to this whole being attracted to men thing doesn’t mean I’m new to the world. I know what love feels like. I know what I want and what I want is you.”

“I know that now,” Tommy replied. He reached out and stroked Evan’s cheek, trying to wipe away the tears that he caused himself, “I know I don’t deserve it, and I have so much that I need to work through before I’m the man you deserve, but would you give me a second chance this time?”

Evan sat still for a minute, “You did hurt me. And it will take some time to earn my trust back,” Tommy sighed as if he knew this would happen. This always happened. He let his hand drop, “But we need to talk more. And I would like to get to know who you really are. Scars and all,” Evan grabbed Tommy’s hand from where it fell and brought it up to his face, caressing it gently against his cheek, “I love you as well you idiot.”

Tommy reached over to Evan and grabbed him. He pulled him in close. A simple hug right now, “I love you so much. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Evan replied. Evan curled up into Tommy’s arms.

“Um,” Eddie said, “Did you two need a moment? Should I set up a guest room for you?”

“Oh right,” Evan said, “I don’t think either of us is safe to drive anywhere,” He looked up at Tommy, “Stay with me tonight?”

“Always,” Tommy said.

Eddie sighed, “Give me a minute to get some stuff for a bed,” He walked out of the room. “And don’t you two even think about having sex on that couch or you will both live to regret it,” He called back in after.

Tommy held Evan close to his chest, not letting him go. Evan could hear his heart racing right now. They kept silent, just laying there on the couch. This was a perfect moment. Tommy signed and felt complete again, “I’m going to have to try and convince you to move into my house though,” Tommy added, “I’m sorry but your place is just small,” He smiled.

Evan smiled back, “I don’t think I thought my wording through,” he explained, “And I didn’t think you would actually want to move into my loft. It was more the ‘Let’s move in together’ part that I was trying to convey.”

“We will need to work on communication,” Tommy held Evan close, “Each day I want to learn one new fact about you that I don’t know. And in return I’ll let you know a fact about me that you don’t know.”

“You think I’ll be able to stop at just one fact?” Evan sounded incredulous, “Have you not been around me for the past six months?”

“I don’t want to overwhelm either of us so lets just stick to one for now,” Tommy said.

“I make no promises,” Evan replied, his voice haughty. Eddie chose that time to come in to let them know that the guest room was ready. He also asked them to please not have sex in his house tonight.

“At least wait until you are at one of your places,” Eddie begged, “I don’t need to hear that.”

“I make no promises,” Evan replied as he shakily got up, “Though I may be too drunk to do anything anyways.”

“I’ll make sure that he behaves,” Tommy added. His head had cleared up a little more than Evan’s. Adrenaline must have burned off the alcohol in his system or something like that, “Just lead us to where we need to go.”

Eddie leads the two men to a room with a bed. It was fairly sparse. But it was a bed. Evan went to the bed and faceplanted onto the pillows and immediately fell asleep. Tommy crawled in, wrapped his arms around Evan, who immediately curled up and sank into Tommy’s embrace. Eddie smiled, “I’m sure you remember where the bathroom is. Please don’t puke anywhere,” Eddie had a thought and left before returning with a small garbage can, “If you think Buck might get drunk sick, please aim him towards this.”

“I’ll do my best,” Tommy said, “Good night, and thank you for taking care of him until I got here.”

“He’s my best friend,” Eddie replied, “What else was I supposed to do?”

Eddie smiled at Tommy and Evan laying in the bed. Evan had started to snore softly. Tommy just held him close and wouldn’t let go. He had to protect what they had now. Protect it at all costs. Slowly Tommy drifted off to sleep, the gentle snoring of Evan lulling him into a sense of peace.

***

Author's Note: And thus ended another of my story ideas that just pops into my head. Let me know what you all think of this and I'll see you all next time I do a Make Me Write or get one of my stories complete.

Love, Steve

#bucktommy #evan buckley #tevan #buck x tommy #tommy kinard #fix it fic #sal deluca

52 notes · View notes

spiritstar477 · 1 year ago

Text

Minific Wolfstar fluff -1011 words- G rated also posted on ao3

I love you

Remus is a fidgeter. He’s always doing something with his hands, making something. And he always gives his little creations to Sirius.

After three months of dating, he’s given Sirius:

1. a rock that matches his eyes (which Remus found by memory while in Beasts class)

2. a strand of Remus’ hair with a strand of Sirius’ hair tied around it

3. a little broomstick he made with sticks and grass (and charmed to fly around him when it’s picked up)

4. a scrunchie he crocheted with his mum over spring break (it only sort of looks like a scrunchie)

5. a random animal bone he rubbed his thumb on until it became misshapen and smooth

6. way too many origami animals that James secretly charmed to run around when Sirius says Remus’ name

And all sorts of other stuff he’s found or made. He doesn’t expect Sirius to keep any of it but he does. He keeps all of it. He charmed a box so it would always fit any small items placed inside.

They’re sitting in the library, Remus is reading and Sirius is working on a paper that he should have finished days ago.

“I love you,” Sirius tells him, leaning over to bump their shoulders. Remus flushes slightly and kisses Sirius’ head. I love you, he thinks.

Only a moment later, Sirius is swept away by James and Marlene for a sudden quidditch practice. Gideon, who’s a year below him, moves to sit across from Remus. They’re not really friends, but they’re friendly, as all the Gryffindors are with each other.

“Why don’t you say it back?” He asks. Remus cocks his head to the side, confused.

“What?” He asks.

“He said I love you. You didn’t say it back. Actually, I’ve never seen you say it back.”

“I— um…” Remus loves Sirius. He loves him more than he’s ever loved anyone or anything ever. He just doesn’t know how to tell him. He can’t make the words cross his lips when Sirius is there no matter how hard he tries.

Sirius says I love you, and instead of saying it back, Remus kisses him or hugs him or runs away with a convenient excuse of forgotten homework (which is ridiculous since they all know Remus doesn’t forget homework). It’s not that he’s not ready —he loves sirius, he knows he does— he just… can’t.

And now he’s thinking, does Sirius know? Does he know that Remus loves him? That to Remus, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened? What if he thinks Remus doesn’t love him?

He leaves Gideon without answering, gathering his stuff and quickly leaving the library. It’s almost like he blacked out because he suddenly finds himself in the astronomy tower.

It’s windy; strong enough that he’s almost worried it’ll blow him away. But he’s too caught in thought to worry about anything else.

It’s probably at least an hour before he starts talking out loud, saying the things he wishes he could say to Sirius. He has no problem saying them when he’s alone, he can even say them to Lily when he’s talking about Sirius, but when Sirius is there…

“I do love you,” he says like he’s practising what he wants to say to Sirius, though he knows he won’t be able to.

“I love you more than anything. I love every bit of you. I just…” His chest feels tight, his lungs heavy. “I don’t know how to say it. I can’t say it. When i try it feels like my stomach is going to eat its way out and my throat closes and I can’t breathe. The words are on my tongue and I know what they are but they won’t leave my mouth and—”

A floorboard creaks behind him. Remus whips around and is faced with Sirius, who’s staring at him, a small smile on his lips and eyes unreadable.

“I—” Remus tries to speak but anxiety coils in his stomach, tightening around his throat, choking him. He makes a small gasping sound.

“It’s okay,” Sirius says. He steps closer until they’re only inches apart, his gentle hands resting on Remus’ arms, grounding him. “I heard what you said. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but…” He’d heard it all?

Sirius nudges his head on Remus’ chest and smiles up at him. “I’ve always known you love me,” he tells Remus. A little sound —a sigh of relief, maybe— escapes Remus. He pulls Sirius into a hug and they stand there like that, swaying slightly in the wind.

“I know you have a hard time talking about feelings,” Sirius says into his chest. “Honestly, I thought that’s why you always give me stuff. I know you like to collect as well.”

Remus smiles into Sirius’ hair. “I don’t collect,” he mumbles, barely loud enough for Sirius to hear him over the wind.

Sirius barks a laugh at that. “Remus,” he says, leaning back to look at his face. “How many books have you reread?”

“None,” Remus says in a confused tone. “I don’t need to. I remember what I read.”

“Exactly. Yet you keep all your books because you like them. That’s collecting, Love.” As Sirius speaks, the anxiety is slowly loosening its hold on Remus.

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed,” Sirius jokes, but his face turns serious after. “I don’t need you to tell me you love me. I already know you do. I see it when you give me things you made or found. I feel it when you look at me, when you talk to me. I feel it when I’m the only person who’s allowed to touch you.” Sirius runs his hands over Remus’ back, like proving a point.

“I like telling you that I love you. But I don’t need to hear you say it to know that you love me, okay?”

Remus smiles and pulls Sirius close again. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“For what?” Sirius asks.

“Just…” he swallows hard. “You know.”

“Yeah. I know.” And Remus can hear the smile in his voice.

#remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #moony #padfoot #autistic remus lupin #autistic remus #supportive Sirius #I love you #autistic remus can’t talk about his feelings #and that’s okay #mini fic #microfic #wolfstar microfic

68 notes · View notes

soubeomies · 1 year ago

Note

oh my GOD. i love your writing!!! can we get like pure fluff heuning kai please. i need it. i have a few scenarios so have fun with these.

kai being on tour and he calls you every night trying not to expose the presents until he gets home and shows you stupid little things for the two of you (matching phonecases,,rings, bracelets, etc)

morning with kai (cuddling, staying in bed, random little talks so the two of you wake up)

AND!! the tiktok coquette bf bow trend with kai!! use any of these!!

pairing ; hueningkai x gn!reader

genre ; fluffiest fluff to ever fluff

warnings ; NONE HEHE :3

a/n ; OMG TYSM FOR BEING MY FIRST REQ! i'll do the coquette bow trend cuz i think its sauuuurrr cyuutee <3 ILY !!!!!

you were on the bed scrolling through tiktok as your boyfriend, kai, was in the bathroom showering since he just got back from tour a few days ago and decided to stay over at your place since he had a few days off. you were moving around to get in a comfortable position, your legs slightly tangled in the mess of your blanket.

you continue scrolling on your phone as a video pops up on your for you page. it's a video of a girl tying a pink little bow on her boyfriend's biceps, with a lana del rey song as its audio. you stare into the screen with a smile as an idea pops up in your head, maybe you should make kai do it?

you impatiently waited for him to finish showering and exit the bathroom. as you heard the bathroom door creak open, you practically whipped your head around to face kai. he looked at you with a hint of confusion in his eyes, he had a towel in his hand as he was rubbing the towel against his glistening strands of blonde hair. you quickly got up as you walked up to him,

“hey baby .. ?” you said in a slightly persuasive tone in your voice, holding your phone behind your back. he looked at you as he laughed a little, “hm? what do you need this time?” he said gently. he looked at you lovingly, though you knew, whatever you asked him, he would probably do it. because according to him “he loves you too much to say no”.

you smile a little at him as you showed him your phone and the video you saw earlier, he watched the video fully as he looked at you. “you want.. me? to let you tie a pink bow.. around my arm?” he asked you with a slightly confused tone in his voice.

you eagerly nod at him, “mhm! please? pretty please?” you pleaded. he laughed at your adorable behaviour as he nodded at you, “how could i say no?” he said whilst he smiled at you, he looked as if he was ready to do anything for you. if you told him to jump, he would've probably asked “how high”.

you dragged him over to a cleaner area of your apartment as you clicked stuff on your phone to get the lana del ray audio. you then set your phone down as you scurry around your apartment, looking for a pink ribbon to tie around his arm. you then opened a drawer as you found some pink ribbon. you cut a reasonable amount of it as you walked back up to him. you then tie it around his arm and tried to make the bow look as perfect as possible.

he looked at your focused face with a smile, “you look cute while being this focused by the way..” he muttered under his breath, a small flush of rosy pink gradually appearing on his cheeks. you smile at his comment as you finally got the bow tied perfectly!

you take your phone and started recording. as you were recording him, he practically couldn't stay still. he was giggling and laughing as he found it a little embarrassing.

–

its been a few hours since you posted that tiktok, you’ve gotten comments saying stuff like

“OMG! IS THAT UR MAN GIRLLL???? DAMNNN”

“HUENINGKAIII????” “SO CUTE OMMGGG”

you smiled gently as you read all the cute comments you got from your friends as he was laying on your lap, asleep :)

73 notes · View notes

periracha · 1 year ago

Text

Waiting

☾ pairing: Dad!Chan x Mom!Reader ☾ wc: 2k ☾ genre: fluff, boring domesticity (gasp) ☾ cw: Christmas themes, kids, suggestive jokes, me trying to be funny idk, language, chan being chan ☾ summary: the bangs get in the holiday spirit! ☾ a/n: wanted to get a whole aesthetic and masterlist up for this blog before i posted anything but this little idea had my brain in a chokehold all day so,,,,enjoy ! also, let me know if I should continue writing this family so i can give them names, etc. yes this piece is fluff but this blog is 18+, MDNI

Ripples start to splash against the inside of your mug as you set it down on the coffee table that has been pushed aside for the evening to allow enough room for you and your husband.

“Clearing the living room floor the second both kids are down and out?” Chan asks with a wiggle of his eyebrow.

“Bit risky but I can work with this” he says while straining his neck and pulling his left arm across his chest in a stretch in preparation.

You look up at him when a scoff falls from your lips, “ha yeah you wish. Now get the wrapping paper from the closet”

“Please” you add with a sarcastic smile and sweet like honey tone.

He blinked at you silently for a split second before he huffed out a big sigh, “Oh thank god. I don’t think my back could handle these hardwood floors like it used to” he finishes as he makes his way to the hallway closet.

“Mmm unfortunately the only action these floors have been getting lately is spilled juice and probably some dusty cheetos the kids kicked under the couch” you joke as Chan meets you on the floor with wrapping supplies and gifts.

A quiet laugh in agreement leaves his lips.

“She’s gonna love this” Chan says with a grin so wide it meets his eyes.

He’s holding up a Bluey plushie that plays a few catchphrases from the show when its paw is squeezed.

“She better…. I’m running out of reasons why she can’t buy it every time we go to the store” you say as you cut wrapping paper big enough to wrap the doll and hand it to him.

Your daughter had wanted this little plushie for months now, always asking to stop by the toy section whenever you visit your local department store. You quickly learned that simply telling her the store didn’t have anymore wasn’t gonna fly with her. She always found a way to swindle you into the toy aisles, finding the plushie every time. Distracting her with books or other small toys could only get you so far; luckily Christmas was only a few days away and you both would soon see the joy on her face when she opened her gift.

“How do you even wrap these things??” Chan huffed out with a bewildered look on his face; his brows drawn tight and his eyes wide open. The piece of wrapping paper you had given him was creased all over, and covered in way too many pieces of tape that didn’t actually do anything to keep the paper together.

A giggle started in your chest but you choked it down with a fake cough. Chan was used to being good at almost anything he put his mind to.

Dancing? Easy.

Singing? No Problem.

Writing thousands of unique songs that differed in their own ways? Piece of cake.

Sports? Absolutely.

Wrapping a small gift for his three year old daughter? Not so much.

Carefully, you took the small doll from his hand and replaced it with a box of bath toys for your son.

“Here, let me handle this…and you wrap these” you said nonchalantly as soon as you made the switch; immediately working on your new task at hand.

Chan gawked at you with a goofy smile on his face, “You don’t think I can do it?...you’re demoting me to only wrapping boxes?” he laughed while feigning offense.

“No no no!”, you waved off, “you’re just soooo good! Better than me! The best actually!” you rushed out while trying to contain your laughter but ultimately failing.

Chan looked at you with pointed eyes, but had a wide smile plastered on his face the entire time. He looked like he was going to say something in retaliation but decided against it, letting out a small chuckle and shaking his head instead while he got to work on the box.

Many presents later you were both feeling the ache deep in your lower back from hunching over on the floor.

“Okay that's enough for me, I’m tapping out,” Chan said stretching his back with a yawn.

You yawned and simply shook your head up and down in agreement, thinking about how you were too tired to even keep your eyes open.

You got up and gathered all your wrapping supplies to store away.

“Oh! Can you take all those and put them under the tree?” you asked him while pointing to the group of gifts.

He hummed a quick mhm and started gathering them in his arms.

“Make sure to put Bluey on top of the one of the taller presents so they can’t get to it” you called out as you made your way to your room.

“Yep, got it” Chan quickly responded before placing all the presents down and making his way to follow you to your bedroom.

The next day went blissfully as usual; waking up way too early to cries before the sun is even fully out, only to finally get your son back down and you barely back in bed before your daughter barges in demanding French toast stat.

Did you even have all the ingredients for french toast?

You already got one kid handled, Chan could handle this one.

You lightly kicked him in the leg as he laid beside you to wake him up before you made yourself comfortable to fall back asleep.

When you did wake up, you grabbed your son and met your husband and daughter in the living room, setting him down to crawl around the rug.

“Good morning love”, Chan greeted you with a kiss to your cheek and sliding his arms around your waist in a loose hug.

You hummed a good morning back before resting your head against his chest.

“My turn! My turn!” your daughter yelled entirely too close to your eardrum as she stood on the couch in an attempt to be as eye level as she could with you.

“Coffee?” Chan asked with a smirk as he let you go and made his way to the kitchen.

“Ohhh yeah” you answered before turning your attention fully on your daughter.

She puckered her lips and stood on her tiptoes in an attempt to copy her dad’s previous actions. You bent down and she kissed your cheek, “Good morning, mommy!”, she giggled before flopping down on the couch.

“Oh it is a good morning!” you smiled back to her before tickling her to get some hugs in.

Chan met you back in the living room with your fresh cup of coffee as you both sat on the couch, watching your children play together in the early morning hours.

Your son crawled towards the christmas tree and before you could get up to grab him he had already bumped into a few presents, causing one of them to go off.

“Hello! Hehehe”

The noise immediately caught your daughter's attention and her head snapped towards the tree before her eyes widened. You could see the wheels starting to turn in her head to try and make sense of what just happened when you looked over at Chan who was sporting a mortified look. Jaw hung open and downward, eyes widening and moving around the room at everyone’s faces.

The damn Bluey doll had gone off and one of her most wanted presents was most likely spoiled now.

“WHAT WAS THAT?” she rushed out, walking closer to the tree.

“Your brother!” Chan blurted out way too quickly before tightening his lip into a flat line, realizing what he just did.

Your daughter stopped dead in her tracks and looked at the both of you.

“What???” she asked again, her eyes darting between yours and Chan’s a few times.

“He can talk??, “ she screamed, bewildered at the new information being thrown at her all too quickly, pointing at him and eyes wide as saucers.

You let out a huff of air and forced yourself to take a sip of your coffee, hoping to buy you some time, waiting for your brain to kick on. It was too early for this.

Chan looked at you waiting for you to come in and save the conversation but you had nothing. How were you supposed to convince a 3 year old that her 8 month old brother could now speak when he’s never done that before.

You’re on your own here. You thought to yourself as your eyes met Chan’s again. His face still stuck in the same shocked expression.

“Uhh…yeah..yeah…?” Chan tried to get out nonchalantly but it ended up coming out more like a question and high pitched tone, before clearing his throat.

Your son had now crawled toward your daughter and started grabbing at her legs to get her attention.

You needed a moment to think but your daughter would absolutely follow you wherever you went to…. Unless…?

You coughed into your arm dramatically, “ooooh mommy needs medicine, I will be right back” you said before quickly standing up and making your way to the hallway cabinets before she could stop you.

Even the possibility of being around cough medicine, seeing it with her own eyes, was enough to keep your daughter from following you. She was not about to risk having to take that, yucky grape stuff, as she likes to call it.

Chan followed after you, staying in the open area to keep an eye on the two kids.

“So our 8 month old is saying full words now is he?” you asked, raising your eyebrows when he got closer to you.

“I panicked okay!”, he screamed in a hushed tone.

“So you blame it on the baby?!” you asked in disbelief, a laugh starting in the bottom of your throat. You tightened your lips in an effort to stop the smile you knew was coming.

“What else was I supposed to say it came from?” Chan asked with a strained laugh, “you were no help!” he accused, pointing his finger and narrowing his gaze.

“I don’t know Chan! The TV? Your phone?” you huffed out off the top of your head and throwing your hands in the air.

“Hm. yeah that would’ve been good”, he said staring at the floor, realizing just how easy those would’ve been to explain away to a child.

He stepped back from you to get a better look at your kids a few steps away. His brow furrowed so you stepped forward to see what he was looking at.

Your daughter was sitting directly across from your son with a serious expression on her face, no more playing going on in sight.

“What..what are you guys doing?” Chan asked loud enough for your kids to hear.

Your daughter looked back at him, “Waiting,” she said matter of factly before refocusing her attention back on her brother.

“Waiting foorrr?” Chan asked, raising his eyebrows as you both took a step toward them.

“Him to talk again” she answered without bothering to even look at Chan this time, her serious gaze never leaving her brother's face. He was babbling and drooling while playing with the legs of her pajama pants.

You both couldn’t contain the laughs that came from your mouths. Today was going to be a long day.

You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face as you thought about your family’s antics. Never a boring day in the Bang household, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey Chan, what did you do with the matching talking Bingo we wrapped last night?”

“Shit”

112 notes · View notes