#sorry i was gone for so long I was busy crying my eyes out over an actual human being for once

[buckyalpine]

Imagine feeling needy and sad when Bucky pays more attention to your very round, pregnant tummy instead of you. I mean he doesn't actually. You're his entire world and you come first no matter what but currently, you feel like the little super soldier you're carrying is getting much more love than you.

"How's my little plum" Bucky cooed, peppering kisses all over your tummy, snuggling against your skin after coming back from a mission. 2 weeks had never felt longer and you were craving your husband more than ever. As soon as you heard the rumble of the jet, you waddled from your room as best as you could, panting out of breath by the time you reached the living room.

You couldn't wait to have your Bucky safe in your arms again, giggling at the way he tossed his bag and jacket to the side haphazardly, running straight to you. You braced yourself for an attack and flurry of hugs and kisses he always greeted you with but it never came.

You squeaked as he picked you up and set you on the couch, lifting your shirt up to curl up with your belly, sighing contently as his scruffy cheek pressed against your warm skin. You brought your hand down to play with his soft cropped hair, longing to feel his arms hold you, his warm lips all over your face, his sweet words of how much he missed you and how happy he was to be back home with you again. Instead, the tiny soldier in your belly was hogging up all the time with his daddy.

Of course it was ridiculous. You knew Bucky loved you more than anything else in the world; he doted on you all the time, you were the most precious thing in this life. He adored you more than ever, worshipping your every being and ever since you'd told him he was going to be a father, he'd fallen in love with you more. You were giving him the family he dreamed of with his dream girl, you trusted him, you were carrying his little baby.

You will always be everything to him.

Yet you couldn't help but feel a little left out of the welcome party, your throat feeling tight, eyes starting to fill with tears. You missed him soo much and he was still busy nuzzling into your tummy, but not busy enough to miss the whimper that slipped past your lips.

"Baby?" Bucky's head shot up as soon as he heard what sounded like a cry but it couldn't be. His eyes filled with worry when he saw your sweet fallen face, indeed crying and poorly hiding it. "Why are you crying angel, what happened, is everything okay?"

His mind started to run a hundred miles a minute, ready to swoop you away to the med wing when shook your head, another wave of tears pooling when he reached out to wipe your cheeks.

"It's silly" You shrug with a sniffle but Bucky isn't having it.

"Tell me what's wrong baby" his baby blues pled with you, waiting to fix what was wrong because why was his perfect angel sad.

"I didn't get a hello kiss" You say with a pout and Bucky found himself stuck between wanting to cry and loving you more.

"I'm sorry, mama" Bucky coos, scooping you right up into his arms, cupping your cheek and placing a kiss onto your nose. Then your forehead. "M'sorry" He places a gently kiss to your still pouted lips, repeatedly peppering kisses till he hears you giggle. "You deserve all the hello kisses angel"

"I thought you didn't miss me" You whisper with your face pressed against his neck, breathing in his scent, all the anxiety you felt with him gone washing away in an instant.

"I missed you more than you know, baby" His lips move against your hair, "How could I not miss the pretty girl I fell so in love with, you're it for me"

He kept you in his arms, his hand slipping up your shirt to rub your back, the simple action nearly lulling you to sleep. He picks you up with ease, deciding to run a bath because he doesn't want to be away from your side for another minute and he keeps himself glued to you the entire time. Your back is against his chest, his hands coming up to massage your tense shoulders, kissing down your neck. He doesn't let go when it's time to rinse off, standing with both hands over your tummy as the hot water cascades over you both. He gets you dried off with a nice fluff towel before taking you to bed to sleep, frowning when you shuffled around in discomfort.

"I think your little plum misses you" You giggled between a squeak as baby Bucky kicked in your tummy, refusing to sleep until he heard his daddy's voice say goodnight. You gave him a pointed look as Bucky grinned, shimmying down the bed to rest between your legs at eyelevel with your belly. "Come talk to your son please"

"Quit kicking your ma" Bucky whispered, his metal hand patting the area where his baby boys tiny feet caused a ruckus, "time to let mommy rest, plum"

"Unbelievable" you huffed as the kicking stopped immediately, your little one settling contently while you also got comfortable against Bucky's chest. "So in love with his daddy"

"He gets it from you" Bucky smiled down at your content form, already half asleep, snug in his arms, "Pretty angel"

[envy-of-the-apple]

How about apocalypse!au with yan gojo and a foreigner reader who is going on a vacation/business trip when the outbreak happen?

kinda sick of apocalypse aus soooo yakuza!au instead so basically i changed this entire request im rlly sorry

Yandere!Gojo Satoru x reader

Stop Crying

(Warnings: Yandere, kidnapping, dark content, noncon touching, human trafficking)

You promised yourself you'd stay safe during your trip to Japan.

You took all the precautions. You traveled with friends you trusted. You kept your phone on. You didn't accept any drinks from anyone you didn't know. You checked in with your folks back home every night.

And yet, nothing stopped it.

It was clearly a basement. No windows. Dark, with the exception of the flickering light on the ceiling. The thin cot and scrap of a blanket did nothing to protect you from the cold.

Your phone was gone. So was your bag. Except for the clothes on your back, they took everything. You can still remember the fear you felt when those men grabbed you, hauling you into the back of a truck. No matter how hard you screamed and kicked and hollered, they didn't let go. You remembered you bit one of them. He just swore in Japanese before backhanding you. It throbbed for hours before you eventually just passed out.

And now you were here. In a basement.

You were probably going to die. You heard the underground was rampant in Japan. They were going to cut you up, sell off your organs for thousands. If they were merciful, maybe the most your body would face would just be getting thrown overseas. If you were lucky, your rotting corpse would be found. If you were one of God's favorites, you'd be recognizable enough to notify your family. At least then, they'd have something to grieve over. The pieces that was left.

The door creaks. You jump, curled in the musty corner. You hear voices. Two. Maybe three. All male, speaking in fast Japanese. They all descend the steps, and your heartbeat picks up faster than before.

One was a stout man with a nervous sort of prattle. From his tone, you could tell he was trying to appease the other two. The other two were tall, heads nearly brushing the ceiling. One was wearing traditional clothing. Long black hair, graceful movements.

The other wore circular sunglasses. He was too young to have natural white hair. He must dye it. While the other two linger behind, he's the one who strides towards you.

You panic, pressing yourself into the wall, hoping to just disappear, melt into the background. Your fear doesn't deter him. He grabs your chin turning your face one way, and then the other. His hold tightens, even when you try to escape. He seems to be fixated on one side of your face. The slap must have left a bruise.

That seems to anger him. He snaps something over to the other two. The man in traditional garments doesn't look very impressed, while the other hurriedly titters. Maybe they were planning on selling you, that's why seeing you blemish-free would be such a deterrent to their plans.

Eventually, the man directs his attention back to you. You think he'd speaking to you. You aren't sure. You don't know where you are. You don't know who these people are. You don't know what they want to do to you.

You're scared. You're so so scared.

When you start to cry, the man gets even more aggravated. He lets you go with a scoff, before walking back to his group. They squabble a bit more, before the shorter of the three reluctantly makes his way over to you.

"The Six Eyes wants to know your name," he says, accent thick.

You stare at him. Helpless and confused.

"The Six Eyes...?" You repeat and then your eyes flick over to the white-haired man. Standing tall and still, like a beautiful statue.

You don't know what's in it to lie. They have your wallet, your ID, your passport probably. You mumble out your name in defeat. The Six Eyes hums in approval.

"I have money." You blurt out. "A lot of it. If-if you let me go. I'll give you whatever you want. My-my family will pay any price."

He translates. When he's done, the other two laugh. It's loud and scratches the inside your chest. You duck away, feeling the tears again.

"The Six Eyes said he's paid too much for you to entertain that possibility." The translator says. Your heart drops.

"Paid for me.." You repeat. No no no no. "What does that even mean?"

The man stares at you with sympathy. You don't want it, you want to throw it back on his face, but you can barely move from your spot.

"He will take good care of you." he tries to console. "I heard the Six Eyes treats his things very well."

You don't want to hear it. You fall into hysterics. You want to go home. You want to go back to your country. You want to go home.

A long hand grabs your chin, instantly quieting you. Unlike his firm grip earlier, this one is nearly painful. You're certain he'd crush your bones if he wanted to. You quiet anyway. That seems to satisfy him now. He mutters something to the translator.

"The Six Eyes is telling you not to scream anymore. He finds it aggravating." The translator says.

The Six Eyes turns to the translator knowingly. The man shuffles with his feet, before reluctantly clearing his throat.

"You...belong to the Six Eyes now."

The Six Eyes grins, filled with white glistening teeth.

"Don't disappoint him. "

[churipu]

I love you so so much omg ur posts, ur content, un vibe everything. you’re so so nice and yet you have me crying over every single post because of how good this is. Like yesterday i had a whole debate talking to myself abt how good of a person you were and how the likes were not doing you justice.. usually I never send requests mostly because i’m scared they take a look at it and be like “you cannot be srs”. Idk if it makes sense but oh well😭😭

can i request u make a scenario where the reader is insecure and worried their partner is going to leave them for someone prettier but they dont say anything and just start to distance themselves from them from how big of a toll it was taking on the reader? thank you sm😭🫶🏽

YOU BEING INSECURE + JJK MEN

featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, sukuna ryomen x reader

warning. cursing

note. ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET OMG BRB SOBBING HAVE ABIG FAT KISS, and i love this request so much, you don't have to worry <33 thank you for requesting my love, sorry it took so long :')

GOJO SATORU. even if gojo didn't seem like the type to be aware of his surroundings — he is very much aware. behind those blindfolds and dark glasses, his eyes darts everywhere, making sure everything is fine. even if one small thing is different to his eyes, he'll notice.

so when you began distancing yourself from him, he notices off the bat. but decided to say nothing just to make sure of it, gojo did not want to jump into conclusions. it started off as you telling him that you're busy to go on dates, or even declining his offers when he wanted to come over to your place.

he didn't think much of it until it visibly worsened, you looked miserable. when he sees you, it was like the shine in your eyes have gone away — gojo didn't know what happened, but he automatically assumed that he was behind the disappearance of it. when he asks you if you were okay, you brushed him off with a forced out smile, and he was dying to push you to just tell him everything.

but he didn't. he was afraid that if he'd push you, it would spiral an argument. for a while, he was walking on eggshells around you, you were like a ticking time bomb ready to blow up at any minute.

it was gnawing internally in gojo's mind, what did he do? what happened to you? what happened to y/n?

his y/n.

so when shoko drops the bomb on him, asking if he had broken up with you. gojo was mortified, is that what it looks like to other people? him and you calling it off? he was terrified, scared, nervous. the strongest sorcerer. yeah — he was scared.

and so he felt like it was a now or never situation.

"y/n, can we talk?"

you grimaced at his soft voice, wondering if this is the part where he's had enough and decided he'd leave you. but you nodded your head, your mind was ready, you were ready to hear it, those words: "i want to break up with you."

"please talk to me. i can't do this whole...you avoiding me, tell me what's bothering you...please." the desperation in his voice was visible, almost as if he was in the verge of tears.

his cerulean eyes were filled with such hopelessness, one you've never seen even when he was fighting a curse. you widened your eyes and inhaled sharply, "i...i'm sorry, satoru."

that was all you managed to muster up and gojo was clueless, he needed more answers, he needed answers to why you were like this, "baby, i don't... is it me? did i do anything wrong to you? please tell me, don't run away.. let me make it up to you."

it pained you to see that he thinks it was him, when it was you behind this. you shook your head, "'s not you 'ts me."

and that made gojo even more terrified than he already is, a lot of questions spiraling in his mind, did you find someone else? did you get bored of him? were you finally breaking up with him because of his constant bothering? so many questions.

"i just...there're so many more people prettier than i am. i just can't stop thinking about it. you leaving and all. 'm sorry i distanced myself from you." when you said that, gojo felt like half of his questions were all useless and he felt a bit relieved to finally get an answer to his speculations.

gojo wasted no time pulling you into his embrace, he needed it, you needed it. both of you needed it just as much, you felt so small in his embrace, head buried into his chest. gojo didn't move a bit, fearing if he moved at all — you'd break, you looked so fragile and so dainty, it scares him.

"i..love you so much." was all he could say,

"'ts you, 'ts you that i love. it hurts me to hear you talk like that." you felt like shit, you really do — so you said nothing back, you kept your face hidden in his chest.

and gojo didn't pry you away, he just needed to be close to you, "sorry."

that was when he pulled away, "you don't have to be sorry, but please talk to me, 'ts not fair if we're happy together and you have to be sad alone.." you hated crying in front of people, especially gojo, and he knew that about you.

so when you cried in that moment, gojo knew this wasn't something light — he didn't need any more explaining from you, he was just there by your side the whole night. and the next day. the next week. month. year. both of you never spoke of it again.

he's in love with you and nobody could change that, he thinks you're the prettiest anyways.

NANAMI KENTO. nanami's eyes are always on you. nobody else. and everyone knows that.

everyone except for you, unfortunately.

usually he comes home and you were always there to greet him, with a hug and kiss. it was an inseparable combo he made a routine, but for the past couple of days — he hasn't been getting that.

instead, he was greeted with silence. and just from the second time, he knew that something was definitely wrong with you. he'll find you curled up in bed, under the covers like it was the only thing that mattered in the world; but he tries to see it as a sign of exhaustion.

nanami watches your every move, for the past couple of days. you have been out of it. to the point where it was plain obvious and nanami tries asking about it, but you tell him it was just because of the stress. a sweetheart he is, he tries telling you to get some rest from work — he'd even excuse you if it's needed, but you tell him that wasn't needed and that you were fine.

obviously lying. he could see it, smell it, hear it.

it was suffocating. everything was suffocating to you, it's like everything was slowly masticating on every fiber in your body. you wanted to just, drop down and cry but whenever you try to, you just end up sitting on the floor blankly staring at nothing.

it scares yourself sometimes how empty your eyes look.

you wouldn't be surprised if nanami didn't come back home one day because he's so fed up — that's what you've been planting in you. that nanami would leave you for prettier people, for people who don't overthink, people who are generally better than you.

"y/n?"

oh. you didn't even hear him come home, you sat on the bedroom floor trying to push yourself up. and you couldn't even do that, so when nanami opens the bedroom door, seeing you on the floor — he said nothing, not even a hello.

nanami just scoops you into his arms and lays you down on the bed mutely, his slender fingers brushing your hair, "i love you," he murmurs quietly.

that was enough to make tears dwell up at the corner of your eyes, and he said nothing, grazing your tears away, "'m sorry. 'm so sorry, kento."

nanami didn't understand why you were apologizing, he hushed you, cradling you in his embrace as you let your tears free fall, "why are you sorry?"

that's when it struck you, why were you apologizing?

nanami didn't question you any further but he held you close, pressing chaste kisses onto your forehead, "is something in your mind?" you nodded slowly, "do you want to tell me about it?"

you nodded, inhaling sharply, "i just don't feel pretty enough...i feel like you deserve better than me, ken."

nanami laced your fingers with his, kissing your knuckles, "why do you say such things?" you didn't answer him, and it just breaks his heart even more, "you're perfect for me."

his words fall into deaf ears, but you didn't continue saying your worries, you just feel like nanami gets a gist of it. nanami didn't leave your side, cradling you in his arms like you're the most fragile being, "i love you," he kissed your forehead, "so much," and he kisses your lips.

nanami makes sure to spend every second telling you how much he loves you, telling you how beautiful you are, and how you're the most perfect for him.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. he hates it when you ignore him without any explanations, he's told you before, "if you have anything to say, say it to my face, don't ignore me."

but this feels like something you couldn't tell him, how you feel. it's obvious that you were distancing yourself from him, when he calls you, you sometimes pretend like you didn't hear him — and when he confronts you later, you tell him that you just didn't hear his calls.

"you're ignoring me, hm?"

"what? no— i just didn't hear you calling out to me."

don't even try to lie to him because he will always confront you about it, he sees right through you and your lies. the second time you try to run away from him when he calls out to you, he wastes no time holding you in place; confronting you right at that moment.

"why're you running away, brat?"

"i...oh, i didn't realize you were here, ryo." sukuna clicks his tongue in mere annoyance — what a bad actor you are, it's so ridiculous sukuna wanted to just burst out into laughter.

"bullshit. why're you avoiding me?"

that was it. you were cornered just like that. sighing, there isn't any way out unless you tell him — sukuna just won't let you go unless you tell him everything behind your recent behaviors.

"just don't feel pretty enough for you," you mutter out, avoiding his sharp gaze, "i feel like you can do much better than me. you deserve better than me."

sukuna gave you nothing but a mere smirk, pushing his lips onto yours. god, he didn't want to admit it — but he hates the way you talk shit about yourself, if he could tell you everything that he loves about you, he would. but he didn't because he's a jackass (and he's too shy to tell you that).

"that's it?" that's it? that's it?

you were about to push him away when he gives you that glare of his, "which person has been making you think like that?"

"no one. me."

he flicks your forehead, "then stop."

if only it was that easy, you grumbled at his response, and said nothing else so you could just leave. but sukuna, despite his ignorant answers always makes sure that you never run away from him anymore, he's a lot more touchy than usual — and he (tries) to compliment you and your appearance.

keyword: tries

he fails at it though. but you gave him kudos for trying, that's all that matters, really. that he makes you feel loved.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[vividxpages]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ ﾟ｡⋆grieving methods ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡☾ ﾟ｡⋆

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 2500

summary: In the aftermath of your boyfriend's little brother's death, you try to comfort him as best as you can. (modern universe)

warnings: angst, grieving, hurt/comfort, crying, kissing and lots of tears

𓆩♡𓆪⛈

Silence greeted you as you quietly slipped into the house of your boyfriend.

You had been here countless of times before, but the rooms had always been filled with some sort of noise, keeping them busy and wonderfully alive. There usually was a warmth in them you often missed in your own home, but now it felt like all the lights had been blown out.

The funeral service had ended some hours ago, you knew that much.

You had not heard a single word from Jace since then.

You closed the door behind you, tucking away the key Rhaenyra had gifted you last Christmas, another big step of welcoming his eldest son’s girlfriend into her family. You were sure you’d gone insane today if it weren’t for the goddamn key. With no life sign of Jace, you had been worried sick all day. The service for Lucerys had been a very private one, given the nature of his tragic passing, and you had understood when you had learned only the closest family was allowed to partake.

It still didn’t mend the aching emptiness you had felt this morning, knowing deep down Jace needed you more than ever in those hours.

But you were here now. It was the least you could do.

You quietly made your way towards the staircase when you heard heavy steps across the hall, freezing. A pale and tired looking Rhaenyra emerged from the living home, her eyes puffy and exhausted as they landed on you.

You opened your mouth before she could. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked before, but-  I wanted to see if there is anything I can do to help and-“

“My dear girl.” She interrupted you, stepping forward until she could cup your cheek. “There is nothing to apologize for. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve told Jace to call you earlier, but he’s been in his room for a while now and we all decided to take some time for ourselves.”

You nodded in understanding, thinking of the other members of Jace’s side of the family you had learned to love so dearly.

“I’m glad he has you, dear.” She told you, smiling sadly and turning away shortly to wipe her eyes. “Maybe he won’t show it at first, but I believe he needs you more than ever now. Go on.”

You barely could stop yourself from running up the stairs like a mad woman.

You always had known your Jace was emotional, as protective as he was loving of his family, but you had no idea what to expect now. Earlier this week, he barely had been human, void and still in shock over the loss of his little brother, but would it had changed now after they had bid Lucerys a final goodbye?

You tried to steady yourself, taking a deep breath as you knocked twice on his door.

No answer.

He needs you more than ever now.

You slipped into his room.

Jacaerys was very tidy, usually, the only mess he allowed in his room the disheveled sheets after you had tumbled into them after a night out or a long morning in bed together. But although the curtains were closed now, barely letting any grey light from outside into his little realm, you could see how he had neglected his rule in the past days. Old clothes littered the floor, a old sheets had been messily thrown over his wall of pictures over the bed, the little faces of him and Luke, you and the rest of his family hidden so they couldn’t hurt.

The sight that broke your heart though was the lump on his bed.

Jace was curled up into a ball, his back facing the room. Only his dark curls were visible underneath the blankets. His childhood plushie, a green dragon named Vermax, was peeking out from this mess and your chest tightened with emotion when you spotted Lucerys’ version, a grey dragon named Arrax, close by. Jace must’ve taken him from Luke’s room to find comfort in him…

Jace gave no sign that he had heard someone enter, laying still as if he was sleeping.

But you knew better.

You walked over to his bed, the frame creaking a tiny bit as you sat down on the edge.

Instinctively, you reached out a hand and placed it where you assumed was his bony shoulder.

No reaction.

„Jace.“ You whispered into the silence, biting your bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. Right now, you needed to be there for him as he had been for you countless of times. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just- I wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need me. I-I’ll go too, if that’s what you want, but I needed to check on you. I’m so, so sorry…”

For a while, nothing happened except for the tiny tremors going through Jace as you still soothingly stroked your thumb over his shoulder, trying to keep your own sadness locked within yourself for him. You were sure if you started crying with him now, you’d never stop.

But then, the sheets rustled and you held your breath as Jacaerys slowly turned around in his bed, your hand slipping from his shoulder. Your stomach tightened painfully at the sight of his swollen eyes, rimmed by redness and salty tears still running down his cheeks. His neck was blotchy as if he was still holding back sobs after hours and he was trembling all over.

He looked so helpless, so lost and utterly destroyed that you wanted to take him, lock in into your heart and never let him out again.

“Jace…” You inhaled shakily.

He surged forward, burying his face in your neck and pulling you against him as he cried, the sobs shaking him so violently you could feel them rock through your body as well. It was heartbreaking to hear and feel and you slung your arms around him tightly, trying to hold the boy you loved so much together somehow.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, tears of your own clouding your vision as you rocked him back and forth, rubbing a soothing hand over his back, brushing through his curls… You had never seen him cry like this. It felt like he was coming apart in your arms, losing it entirely but still clinging to you in the hope you’d save him.

You had no idea how much time passed as you held him in your arms, feeling him gasp for air and shake as sobs shook his entire being. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you, I- I just was- I’m sorry…”

“There is nothing to be sorry about.” You cooed, your hands finding his cheeks and trying to brush away the river he was fighting and losing against. A hiccup escaped him as he tried to make a sound of protest and you raised his hands to your lips and kissed his knuckles.

“What can I do?” You whispered, brushing back a curl from his face. “I want to help you, my love. If there is anything…”

“I feel so heavy.” He whispered, voice raspy as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder. He still wasn’t really looking at you, but that was okay for now. “Like…I feel like today is on my skin and I’ll never be able to wash it off again.” His voice broke towards the last word and he shuddered, drawing you closer by the waist, a new wave of fresh tears dripping onto your collarbone.

You touched his chest, right over his broken aching heart and he held his breath.

Nuzzling into him, you swallowed against the lump in your throat and asked: “Do you trust me?”

Your boy had the saddest eyes in the whole world when he looked up at you. “Of course I do.” He answered in a quiet voice and you gave his hand in your lap a squeeze, slowly shuffling back so you could stand up and lead him.

You walked into the small bathroom attached to his room, a luxury you often had taken advantage of in the past. You had learned that Jace loved showers and loved them even more when you were in there with him, although those showers often ended with him on his knees and your head thrown back against the wall, trying to stifle your moans as he sensually ravished you with his tongue…

Now, he let you do what you wanted, standing completely still as you helped him undress, kicking away your own clothes in the process as you turned on the shower behind you and the room was filled with steam. When only his underwear and yours remained, you reached out a hand and led him under the spray of the shower, making sure it wasn’t too hot although that never bothered him.

You looked at him with love and sadness in your eyes and he looked right back into yours, finally allowing you to see him. His nose was running and you could see he had been biting at his lip, a little crust of red remaining on the bottom.

You tried to brush it away with your thumb and he exhaled sharply at the soft contact.

Cupping his cheek with your hand, you pressed your foreheads together, pleading: “Let me be of help.”

Carefully, you reached around him and grabbed his bodywash and a cloth. Jacaerys watched you silently, as if he could not explain himself why he was standing here, outside of his own body and mind. A fallen angel in your grasp.

Then, you began to clean him, your foam-covered hands on the body he thought dirtied and sullied by the heavy blanket of grief. He inhaled sharply at the contact, almost staggering back from the sudden gentle touch. But you moved with him and when your eyes met, both of their faces framed by your wet hair, you understood he allowed you this, allowed himself this.

Inch by inch, you washed away the imaginary dirt.

There was nothing sexual about it, you knew Jace’s body like you knew your own. He tilted back his head and closed his eyes, simply letting himself feel as your hands made their way into his hair, massaging his scalp with a layer of his shampoo, a smell you loved and made you sad now. He whimpered from the affection you offered him, unable to sort through his feelings and decide on one that needed the outlet the most.

Somewhere in-between he had begun to cry again and you softly spoke to him as you quickly rinsed off your hands, needing to touch him again, to remind him that you were here.

You slung your arms around his waist, leaning his head on your shoulder. “It’s okay.” You whispered, although nothing was okay and it wouldn’t be for a whole while. The water was dripping down your forms, both of your remaining clothes completely soaked by now. You blinked away your own salty tears once again and hoped he’d mistake them for droplets of water from the showerhead.

“Jace…”

He was already looking at you, mouth slightly open, eyes clouded.

The edges of his curls were brushing against your cheek, his lips briefly brushing against your own - and then, so quickly it gave you whiplash, his mouth was on yours, feverish and hot and bruising.

It was like falling over an edge.

A loss of control.

Jace held you impossible close, his slippery hands on your hips as he walked you backwards against the shower wall. You gasped, back aching as it hit the cold tiles, swallowing his own pained groan and for a second you wondered if you had hurt him somehow, but those thoughts quickly vanished as his tongue touched yours, the kiss becoming hurried and desperate.

You tried to keep up with his dizzying pace, holding on to his shoulders and kissing back with all your might when you suddenly realized that this was the words of grief he could not speak out loud yet. The only relief from the horrible last days he had gone through, his only shelter from the brewing storm above him.

But you also knew he was hurting and neither of you would forgive yourselves if you let this hurt go too far now.

“Jace, Jace, wait-“ You gasped against his lips, softly pushing at his shoulders until you could look at each other again, breathing heavily into the damp space between you. There was no look of bliss on his face or pleasure of what just happened between the two of you. “Let’s slow down, okay?”

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be sorry-“

“I have no right to just…use you like this.” Jace shook his head, brushing back his wet hair and shaking his head. “You wanted to help and I just make it all worse.” He gasped for air that wouldn’t reach his lungs.

“No, baby.” You murmured, taking his hand and resting it over your heart. “You’re not making anything worse and you’re not using me. Believe me, if I knew kissing you would make your pain go away, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But you’re grieving and you’re in a fragile state now. And that’s okay. But I’m here to take care of you, not make you even more unsteady, okay?”

He nodded, his bottom lip trembling. “I love you. I’m glad you’re here and- I want you to stay. Please.”

You had not planned on leaving.

You gave him a soft smile and together you made your way out of the shower, toweling each other down so you wouldn’t drip on the floor. Jacaerys murmured into your hair that he felt the tiniest bit better now, cleaner than before, and your heart nearly busted with love for this boy as you slipped a comfortable hoodie over his form and claimed one of his sleep shirts for your own.

His room was still clouded with darkness as you made your way into his bed, quietly slipping under the blankets and clinging to each other tightly. Jacaerys drew you close, inhaling your scent and sighing brokenly as your hand traced up and down his spine, the two of you sinking into his sheets like children.

Your legs tangled together, one of your legs slung over his waist and your hand buried in his curls as you listened to his breathing slowly coming down. The wing of his plushie dug into your back, but you didn’t care. You would not move, maybe not ever again if it meant his serenity.

He sighed, pressing a small kiss onto your throat before nuzzling your neck with his nose. He was utterly exhausted, on the brink of simply collapsing into unconsciousness.

Nothing was good.

You weren’t sure if it’d ever be again.

But as you held him in your arms, you knew that whatever was yet to come for him, you’d be there to stand it through, together.

[propertyofwicked]

heyyy!!!

could i request lando x reader angst with some fluff? where the reader is stressed with exams (exam season just started for me😰) and lando just helps her get through it and comforts her during the sleepless nights.

i absolutely love your work, especially the secrets series!🧡

exam szn is invading my personal space rn too i cannot think about it without wanting to cry hehe. hope this meets ur expectations and sorry it took so long to respond <3

warnings: none, just fluff :)

masterlist

TAKE A BREAK - LN

y/n was always going to be the most beautiful woman that lando had ever seen, even now, as she sat slumped over her laptop, pen tucked into her bun and dark circles under her eyes, highlighted by the dull orange of her desk lamp in an otherwise dark room.

this was not a new situation for lando to find his girlfriend in - he’d seen her at her worst when she had been revising for her final exams years ago, whilst he was busy with his driving career. but this past week, he’d barely spent time with her, besides seeing her setting up her desk before he left in the morning, and eating a rushed dinner before she went straight back to studying. y/n was bound to crash soon, her body and mind overworked and over tired, but her resistance was strong. lando missed his girlfriend. yes, she was physically in the same apartment as him, but mentally she was so far away, completely unreachable to the outside world.

“hey,” he announced, leaning against the door frame. she mumbled a quick hello in response, not even looking away from the glowing screen in front of her.

“y/n?” he tried to get her attention again, still with a mumbled response. he pushed his body from where he was leaning, walking slowly over to rest on the back of her desk chair, his head lowering to press a kiss to the top of her head, “come to bed, angel.”

“i will in a minute,” she said, finally breaking her stare at her computer, leaning back to look at him. he finally got a good look at her face. she was still beautiful, but she was tired. she was pale, her eyes red from the strain and constant fight against exhaustion.

“no baby, you said that last night and crawled into bed 3 hours later.”

“i said i was sorry for waking you up,” she said sadly, her shoulders tensing, the shift to her posture causing her muscles to move for the first time in hours.

“i don’t care about you waking me up, i care about you clearly struggling. you need to take a break, angel,” he said, his tone harsh even when he tried to be as nice as possible.

“im fine, lan, i promise. ill come to bed in 10 minutes.”

“y/n,” he warned, no longer caring about his tone, “when was the last time you showered?” he added, out of genuine concern, however she did not take it in that way.

“what? why? do i smell?” she asked, raising her arm to sniff herself, lando physically restrained himself from laughing. she didn’t smell, but her hair was slightly greasy, purely from the amount of times she ran her hands through her hair out of frustration, or kept her head propped up, using her arm as support.

“y/n,” he says, using her full name, “you are going to shut your computer down, have a shower, and then go to bed. you can keep studying tomorrow but tonight, i want to spend time with my girlfriend before i have to leave the country again.”

she was reluctant to oblige, but she knew she’d been neglecting him in favour of studying. she did this every time she had an important essay due, or upcoming exams - her brain became laser focused to the extent of forgetting to look after herself and those around her, the deadline approaching only adding to the pressure. she closed her laptop, and stood, stretching her legs out in the process, not realising they had gone numb from sitting down for hours.

lando took to standing behind her, hands on her waist as he guided her into their bathroom. as he switched on the light, her eyes squeezed shut and a groan fell from her lips at the shock of the brightness.

“has that light always been so fucking bright?” she groaned, as lando laughed quietly, moving around her to set the shower up.

“that’s what happens when you sit in a dark hole for hours angel. when was the last time you left that room,” he asked, his hand under the water testing the temperature.

“erm, when we had dinner?”

“babe that was 6 hours ago,” he replied with a sigh, checking the time on his watch, “the showers warm enough now. get in. i’ll be in the other room.”

“you’re not showering with me?” she asked sadly. his eyes perked up at the thought of spending intimate time with her.

5 minutes later, they were both stood under the water, his hands massaging shampoo on her scalp. the warm water has loosened her muscles, and the feeling of lando’s hands on her bringing her back to a full sense of reality. she turned to face him, looking in his eyes as the water cleared the shampoo from her hair.

“im sorry,” she told him.

“you don’t need to be, angel. i just wish you’d take better care of yourself. i hate seeing you like this.”

“i know i just..” she said, before taking a deep breath, “i just need to pass this exam and then i’ll be back to normal, i promise.”

“y/n, you are the most intelligent person i know. there is no way you need to destroy yourself for the sake of an exam,” he replied, his hands moving to cup her jaw. she hoped the shower would mask the tears welling in her eyes. she couldn’t tell if the tears were from the kind hearted words or from the sheer stress she’d been bottling up. either way, lando could read her like a book.

he lowered his head, pulling her face closer to his, before pressing a kiss to her forehead and each cheek, and then moving to press a short but sweet his to her lips.

“i just don’t want to mess this up,” she said through tears, “ive worked so hard to get to where i am right now, i can’t afford a set back. i can’t mess this up, and i can’t think about correlation coefficients any longer without wanting to rip my hair out.”

“and you won’t mess it up,” he replies, choosing to ignore the words he doesn’t understand, marvelling at her ignorance to her own intelligence, “taking a break every now and again, looking after yourself, is not going to set you back or destroy your progress. you can’t keep going like this - the stress and the way you overwork yourself is going to set you back further than taking the evening off will, angel.”

“i just need to pas-”

“no, you need to take a step back. give yourself a break.”

“i know, i jus-”

“stop arguing with me or i’ll throw that damn laptop out of the window,” he said, interrupting her and crossing his arms over his chest.

“please don’t, i can’t afford a new one,” she joked, and lando smiled at hearing her laughing for the first time in weeks.

“i’ll buy you a new one,” he replied, pressing another kiss to her lips, “right, turn around i need to do the conditioner now.”

lando didn’t let y/n move another finger all night. he had wrapped her in a towel and sat her down on the toilet lid whilst he brought her in a cup of tea. he helped her climb into her pyjamas, and then sat her down between his legs as he dried her hair. they had crawled into bed afterwards, his arms reaching out to pull her to lay on his chest.

“thank you,” she mumbled against his neck, her eyes already closed out of exhaustion.

“don’t thank me,” he replied, tilting his head to kiss her forehead, “just promise me you’ll start taking care of yourself.”

“i promise,” she said, raising her pinky finger to interlock with his.

“tomorrow, you start taking an hour break for every two hours of work you do. and please, go outside, get some fresh air,” he said, pleading with her.

“half an hour,” she debated with him.

“an hour. end of,” he said, his decision final, “or, that laptop really is going.”

“you would never,” she replied, jokingly gasping at him.

“you wanna bet?”

[hellodropbear]

it's time. (III)

mapi leon x ingrid engen x daughter

part I here and part II here

~~~~~~

The preseason is long. Everybody knows that. When it first starts, everyone is excited. Relaxed, refreshed, ready to start again. By the time it ends, everyone is sick of each other, ready and waiting for the less intensive training schedule that comes with the busy season. 

They'd rather play two games a week with minimal training than endure full days of gruelling strength, fitness and technical exercises in the hot Spanish sun. 

The nerves and anticipation started to grow around two weeks ago when Jonatan first mentioned some film work and specific analyses of particular players from Valencia, and they had only grown and grown, the excitement and nerves a complicated mix in the dressing room. 

Even Isabel had noticed a difference, her mother more nervous than most, wanting to prove herself again to silence the storm that began to rain down on them as her interview with Alexia was released almost two weeks ago. 

The responses had been overwhelming and Mapi found herself even more stressed at the prospect of all those eyes on her, trying to decide whether or not she was good enough to be in the selective squad after so much time away. 

The centre back had been all over the place and she would find herself in tears as she scrolled and scrolled on twitter, on instagram. On all the platforms that they had explicitly told her not to open, the platforms that would always produce the most hatred. 

It was Ingrid who found out about it, knocking on Mapi's door for the third time that week, completely surprised at the tear stained face and red, puffy eyes that greeted her with a weak smile. 

Her first thought, a naive one, was that something was wrong with Isabel, unaware that she was perfectly content, tucked away and asleep in her cot. 

But it didn't take long for the Norwegian to realise that if it was Isabel, Mapi would have done something, she would be somewhere or the child would be curled up in her mother's arms, crying softly as Ingrid had seen so many times before. 

"Mapi, what's wrong?"

Her words were soft, the exact level of softness that the Spaniard had been craving all night. 

But, as usual, she refused to admit that the Norwegian was providing her with what she needed. It couldn't be that simple. Ingrid wasn't her girlfriend, she couldn't just rely on her like that.

Instead, she shook her head, turning around and walking away. She left the door open though, so Ingrid knew she could follow her into the messy apartment. 

Her heart dropped and her eyes widened as she took in the messy array of clothes, toys and shoes strewn all over the floor, the complete antithesis of what the apartment was when she last visited, only two days ago. 

"Sorry for the... mess." Mapi couldn't look her in the eye, too ashamed of how quickly everything had gone downhill. 

It meant she didn't see the brunette shaking her head, brushing off the apology. 

"Isabel is down for her nap, I just had... a moment of weakness." She chuckled dryly. "I'll gather myself in just a minute."

"Mapi..."

Ingrid's voice was so soft, so full of care and worry that the Spaniard practically recoiled, flinching at the calmness. 

She shook her head though, refusing to accept any of the help or care that may have been on offer. 

"No, no. Just give me a minute." She stabilised herself on the back of a chair, moving to fill up a glass of water and promptly chugging it, sighing deeply once it was all gone. 

Ingrid shook her head, moving into the lounge and picking up some of the toys that she knew to go in the chest on the right, the shoes that lived on the rack and the clothes she could tell were dirty to go in the laundry hamper in the corner of the room. 

"You don't have to clean up after me." Mapi stood in the kitchen, staring out at where the Norwegian moved quickly and quietly. "It's my fault I've become a slob."

Ingrid's head whipped up at her words, shaking her head quickly. 

"You're not a slob, Mapi. It's just some clothes and some toys. You have a baby daughter, you're allowed to have a mess."

The Spaniard sighed. 

"I can't use her as an excuse." 

As if on cue, the baby monitor went off, the familiar babbling filling the room. Mapi sighed exhaustedly, switching it off and walking in the direction of the nursery. 

"Um... you don't have to clean up, you don't have to stay. It's too early for her to be up so I might be a while trying to get her back to sleep." Mapi knew she wasn't going to be getting her daughter back to sleep until the night fell. 

It was another downside of her growing up. She was almost 15 months old, which meant less sleeping in the day and more sleeping at night. 

And Mapi didn't know what to do, because those two hour daytime naps gave her the time to sort herself out, to do the chores, to rest, to relax. 

Things that weren't possible with an excited toddler rushing around and requiring her full attention. 

"Hey my Is." Her voice was weak as she sat down beside the cot, sticking her fingers through the bars as the child giggled and played with them. 

"Mami!" 

"Aren't you tired, my lion?" She smiled gently at the child who didn't fail to notice the puffiness of her mother's eyes, the tears that had stained her cheeks. She frowned, trying to reach for Mapi's face.  

She was incredibly perceptive, for a child so young. She noticed when her mother was sad or anxious and while she couldn't say anything, she would be extra clingy, with hugs and kisses to try and make her feel better. 

Maybe it was more intuition than perception, but nonetheless, Mapi was grateful for the little face that lit up her entire world. 

"No sleepy, Mami." She reached her arms upwards, prompting her mother to pick her up and take her out of the cot. 

Mapi smiled weakly, reluctantly obliging and pulling the girl into her arms before sitting back down in her spot on the floor, holding Isabel close.

"Hello Mami." She giggled, standing in Mapi's lap and wrapping her arms around her neck, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Hello gorgeous girl." She let her daughter rest her small face in her neck, their arms wrapped around each other as Mapi let more tears roll down her face. 

Sometimes, Mapi didn't know where all the tears were coming from. She didn't always feel sad enough to cry, but they also weren't happy, like the tears she had cried after her first training. It was the emotion, she realised. There were so many different emotions that sometimes she was just so overcome by them all. The love she had for Isabel, the grief she was still experiencing, the fear that plagued her days, all carried on her shoulders like a bag of bricks. 

She didn't know how to release them, so she would carry them with her and experience minor breakdowns like these every once in a while. Usually triggered by something, but the anxieties were almost always softened by the small little face that would beam at her, kissing her on the cheek and hugging her closely. 

Because how could Mapi be sad when she had her adorable daughter right there with her?

She let herself cry on the floor of her daughter's room for a bit longer, before wiping her tears away, standing up and going back outside to the lounge room. 

She expected to see Ingrid sitting there on the couch waiting, she didn't think she would have left. The room was spotless though, a pile of clean clothes folded neatly on the end of the couch, everything else away and rearranged - exactly how it was before. 

What she didn't expect to see was the Norwegian scrolling through twitter on her phone that she had clearly left open on the kitchen table when she left to check on Isabel. 

The brunette looked up when she heard the footsteps, her eyes wide and nervous. Twitter was open, the distinctive black screen was easily recognisable, even from her distance. 

"You've been reading this stuff?" 

Her voice shook, and Mapi shrugged, nodding anxiously. 

"But why?"

The Spaniard took a deep breath, relishing in the comfort her child provided. 

"It's been a long month. I wanted to see if people actually wanted me to come back or if it was all just for nothing. Turns out they don't really care anymore."

Ingrid thought her heart may have split in two right then at how broken Mapi's voice sounded. 

It wasn't true, that they didn't care. So many people did, so many people were so excited for Barcelona to get their defender back, but of course the negative messages were the ones that Mapi would remember, the ones that she would think about as she tried to sleep at night. 

"They do care, Mapi." She breathed out lightly. "And if they don't, then who cares? It's your people that matter, not randoms on the internet who don't know the first thing about you."

And, for the third time that night, Mapi had cried. 

And Ingrid was right there, holding her as she sank to the floor, a very confused child in her arms. 

~~~~~~

It was the first game back. Mapi was terrified. 

She was starting, and Jonatan had told her that he would take her off at half time if she needed it, but they all hoped she would be able to play all the way through. 

Her daughter was fast asleep, her apartment was completely silent. But she was up, sat at her kitchen table and drinking a coffee having gotten out of bed at 6:30. Alexia was arriving at 7:30, and they would leave the apartment at 7:45 to get on the coach to Valencia. 

It was an away game, unfortunately, which meant they had to stay in Valencia overnight after their evening game. It was just another thing adding onto Mapi's long list of nerves, as she had never been away with Isabel and the toddler had never slept in one of the portable cribs that the club had purchased for this specific reason. 

It was when she was packing her daughter's bag that she heard the knock on the door, frowning as she looked at her watch and read 7:15. She knew it wouldn't be Alexia, she was almost always exactly on time. 

Mapi was not at all surprised when she saw the Norwegian standing outside, a large smile on her face. The antithesis to the Spaniard, really, clearly excited and rearing to go for her first ever game in blaugrana. 

"Isabel is still asleep and I want to keep her down for as long as possible because it's going to be a long day." Mapi whispered, allowing Ingrid to pull her into a hug. 

It was safe to say the two had grown... closer in the past few weeks, ever since that day Mapi had been found crying in her apartment. 

But if Mapi was honest, it was ever since their first walk together that they had become friends, and everyone could see how close they became almost immediately after meeting.

Maybe it was the daily walks with Isabel, maybe it was the carpooling to training or the endless coffee dates that were simply disguised as Mapi showing Ingrid around Barcelona, presenting her with the best places to see and the best coffees to drink. 

It was a mere coincidence that she was still saving the best till last, definitely not just so she had a reason to persuade the Norwegian to continue coming on the walks, going to the hole in the wall cafes. 

Although, if she really thought about it, Mapi would realise that Ingrid was staying for more than just new knowledge about her new city. 

Because she may have come for that, but she didn't need to stay at the coffee shops for so long, she didn't need to go on the long walks every day, playing with the small child for hours on end as she tired herself out.

She didn't need to invite the mother-daughter duo over for dinner under the false pretence that she wanted to improve her Spanish. It was clear to everyone but Mapi that she just wanted to spend more time with the two people she had grown so fond of. It was an added bonus that she could help Mapi out at the same time. 

She could sense Mapi's nerves as she stood outside the door, wrapping her arms around her and smiling. 

"It's going to go well, today. You have to know it."

She broke the hug and looked the Spaniard up and down. 

"It'll be good." It was a confirmation, and despite the lack of credibility, it made Mapi feel a whole lot better. 

"Thanks, Ingrid."

They moved away from the door and Ingrid placed her bag on the floor, moving to the kitchen table where the Spaniard had been half way through preparing some breakfast for the toddler to wake up to, as well as a few snacks for throughout the day. 

"They said they'd cater for her at meal times but she eats smaller meals and has snacks too. I just thought it was best to be prepared." Mapi seemed anxious as she explained her decision making to Ingrid, and the Norwegian knew how nervous she was about the whole away trip. Both the idea of playing again and also how her daughter would manage the change in environment without her mother right there at all times for the comfort she might need.  

"I can finish this up, you go sort yourself out and then you can relax. You seem tired, Mapi, and it's only quarter past seven."

"I'm fine, really. Thank you, Ingrid, thanks so much."

She rolled her eyes, smiling softly. 

"Stop thanking me! Now just go, I'm all good in here."

Mapi smiled, blushing furiously and rushing out of the kitchen and into her own room, quickly gathering up the things she needed for the next 24 hours, finding her training gear and having a record fast shower, changing and re-emerging right in time to wake up Isabel. 

She opened the door as softly as she could, creeping towards the crib, reaching in and picking up the baby who stirred softly at the sudden movement. 

"Hey my lion cub." She tickled her chest lightly, easily waking her up. "Good morning gorgeous."

"Mami?" Still groggy, the baby reached her arms up, grabbing at her mothers skin. 

"It's wake up time now, Is."

Slowly waking up, the baby stretched and yawned, settling easily in Mapi's arms, her head resting in her neck. 

"She's still tired." Mapi smiled at Ingrid, wandering into the kitchen. 

"Her breakfast is all done."

"Thank you, Ingrid. Alexia will be here soon as well. Do you want to carpool with us?"

Ingrid nodded easily. 

"That'd be great. Thanks."

She placed her sleepy daughter in the high chair, sitting right beside her as she became more awake and alert. Alexia knocked on the door as she was feeding Isabel, who still hadn't kept her eyes open for long enough to realise that Ingrid was even in their kitchen. 

"Morning!" The captain was characteristically chipper, moving quickly to sit beside her best friend and niece, ruffling the curly head of hair on the child and planting a kiss on her head. 

"And hello my baby Isabel."

"Ale?" She was still confused, apparently, only realising it was Alexia when her face was directly in her line of vision. 

"She's only just woken up." Mapi smiled softly, finishing up with Isabel's bowl of scrambled eggs. 

"She'll probably fall straight asleep again as soon as I put her down in her carseat." She rolled her eyes, wiping the mess from Isabel's face and picking her up and out of the chair.

It seemed, however, that the baby had woken up enough to recognise that her mother's arms were not the ones she wanted to be held in, instead reaching out for the midfielder who had disappeared out of her eyesight. 

"Ale?"

Rolling her eyes, Mapi wordlessly handed off her child, instead picking up the bags she had left on the floor as her best friend cooed over the tired child. 

They were in the car not 5 minutes later and as predicted, Isabel was almost immediately fast asleep with Mapi's hand in her lap, a comforting warmth in the car seat. 

She didn't even stir as Mapi carried her from the car to the bus, Isabel's head rested on her shoulder as she gently lowered herself into the seat. 

They had about an hour and a half left of the journey when she woke up, shifting uncomfortably in Mapi's dead arms, receiving a kiss on her head before her mother spoke to her. 

"Hello there sleepyhead."

"Mami." She whispered quietly, her head poking out from it's place in Mapi's neck and observing her surroundings. 

"We're on a bus, Is. We're going to Valencia!"

She sighed sleepily, moving her body so she was sat down on her mother's lap rather than being held up in her arms. It seemed from her new spot she could see more people, instantly recognising the thick head of brown hair only two rows in front. 

"Ingrid?"

"She's just over there, sitting with Fridolina!"

Mapi smiled and pointed, but Isabel frowned, not understanding why the Norwegian wasn't with her and her mother like usual. 

She stood up in Mapi's lap, stabilised by her mother, and spoke louder to get Ingrid's attention. 

"Ingrid!" She tried a bit louder. "Ingrid!"

It was then that the Norwegian whipped her head around, making eye contact with Isabel and giving her a big smile. 

"Mami!" She sat back down, proud of herself for completing her mission, smiling at Mapi's soft laughter. 

They were both surprised when the midfielder sat down in the spare seat beside them though, Isabel practically throwing herself into Ingrid's arms. 

"Hello Isabel!" 

Ingrid's smile was infectious, and Mapi couldn't help but beam as her daughter looked up and greeted the Norwegian with a toothy grin on her face. 

~~~~~~

"So... what's the deal with you and Ingrid?"

Alexia had followed Mapi into her room, throwing herself on the centre back's bed. 

"There's no deal." She shrugged, passing her daughter over to Alexia and trying to figure out how to open the portable crib that had been left in the cupboard for her to use. 

Her back was facing the midfielder, so she didn't see the eye roll, nor hear the amused chuckle. 

"Is she just a good cook then?"

Mapi was still struggling with the cot, so she didn't really think about Alexia's words before responding. 

"No- what?" She was exasperated, it was evident in her voice and in the way she spun around with a frown on her face. 

"She just-" Mapi's eyes fell to the floor almost embarrassed as she continued. "She wants to improve her Spanish."

Alexia stopped herself from laughing. 

"So you speak Spanish with her when she has you over for dinner?"

The centre back's cheeks flushed red very quickly as she responded. 

"Well, not exactly. Sometimes I'll say some Spanish words, but it's easier to communicate in English."

This time, Alexia didn't stop herself from laughing and Mapi glared at the sound. 

"No, no. I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh." She gathered herself, only slightly, before continuing. "But Mapi, is it not obvious? She goes on your walks, you've taken her to pretty much every coffee shop in Barcelona. She invites you for dinner and even your daughter loves her."

Mapi looked at her in confusion. 

"How do you know all this?"

"Frido talks."

She rolled her eyes, giving up on the cot and sighing, flopping down onto the bed.

"She's a good friend, and it's convenient that she lives just downstairs. But Ale, don't turn this into something it's not, please. I don't have time to be dating, you know this, we've been through this and you even agreed with me!"

Alexia sighed softly, disappointed because it was true. Back when Isabel was 6 months old and Mapi was in the worst spot she'd ever seen her in. They'd been discussing dating and Mapi had confessed that she felt too busy, that she'd feel guilty to Luis if she started putting attention on a girlfriend more than her daughter. 

Although certain that wouldn't happen, Alexia had reluctantly agreed, promising that she would support Mapi through any decision she wanted to make, through any situation she had to go through. 

Now, though, that reluctant agreement had come back to bite her because Mapi now is so different to that Mapi from eight months ago. This Mapi was like the Mapi from before, only stronger, more emotional. A better person, Alexia would say, but that was just her own opinion. 

"That conversation happened months ago, Mapi. It's different now, you're not just rotting on your sofa like before."

The centre back thought briefly about the incident a couple weeks ago, when Ingrid found her in a disgusting apartment, tears in her eyes as she slowly turned into a slob. The thought alone was embarrassing so she banished it from her mind for the time being. 

"Alexia, I just... I can't. She's a really nice person, she's gorgeous too but any person with eyes would say that. I need to have my full focus on Isabel and relationships go two ways. Yes, I'd get support from her, but I also would need to support her because she has her own baggage too. She's just moved countries again and doesn't know Spanish, has no friends here other than Frido. I don't have time for it all, I can't lose focus of what's important."

Her eyes brimmed with tears but she used her hand to harshly brush them away. 

"I understand and I respect what you're saying, but you need to talk to her, because you can't lead her on. You don't know what she's thinking."

Except she did, everyone did. 

Everyone knew Ingrid liked Mapi. Everyone knew Mapi liked Ingrid. 

"I will at some point." Mapi reached over and plucked her daughter from Alexia's arms, basking in the comfort that the toddler easily provided her with. 

"Good, and I will fix your crib for you because I'm sure it's not that hard." She rolled her eyes, standing up and walking to the crib, propping it up almost immediately. 

Mapi scoffed, rolling her eyes. 

"Adopt her then, if you're so good at it."

~~~~~~

Isabel was with Camila, in a back room with her toys and snacks, easily entertained and distracted from the absence of her mother. 

Her mother was in the tunnel, her stomach churning uncontrollably as she lined up for the first time, not ready to run out there once again. 

There were so many things that could go right, but all Mapi was concerned about was what could go wrong. How this could go wrong, what the repercussions would be.

But sooner than she would have liked, it was time. 

She was walking out, an unfamiliar child's hand in hers. She was lining up, looking out at the crown that was mostly filled with Valencia fans.

She was shaking the hands of all the Valencia players, recognising the shock in some of their faces that she was right there, in the flesh. All fit, returned to play. 

She was lining up in the group photo, an anxious smile covering her face. 

She was being hugged by Alexia who wished her the most  luck in a covered up whisper, reminding her how proud she was of her. 

She was in the huddle, words from the captains going in one ear and right out the other as she thought exclusively about all the possible outcomes of the next 90 minutes. 

She was jogging over to her starting position, doing a few last minute stretches before she waited for kick off. 

She watched the coin toss, she watched as everyone else took their positions. 

The game kicked off, and she was running. 

She touched the ball for the first time, and it was like magic. 

Suddenly, she didn't feel so disconnected from the game, finally focusing in on her technique, the tactics that she knew like the back of her hand. 

And just like that, Mapi felt alive. Out there on the field, running around to her heart's content, blocking shots, pulling dangerous slide tackles. Adrenaline pumping through her, only spurred on by the overwhelming cheers from the crowd, she felt like she could do anything. 

It was like that first day back at training again, except she felt 100 times better because the weight of nerves that she had been carrying for this day had finally been lifted off her shoulders. She felt like she could finally breathe, she wasn't so trapped inside her own body. 

She was proving so many people wrong but more importantly, she was proving herself wrong. She realised that she could do this, that she had done it. 

What so many people had said was impossible, something that barely any people had expected to happen. She had returned to her sport, almost two years off. A baby and enough heartbreak for a lifetime later and she was back. 

On a high, some may say, all through the first half.

The dressing room was a rave at half time, relieved at the positive score, but thrilled about how well Mapi's return was going. 

The energy was high as they ran back out, and their joy was reflected in the dominant scoreline at the end of the match. 

Alexia almost bowled Mapi over with the weight of her hug at the final whistle, and Mapi laughed as she was lifted and spun around. 

It was a perfect game, a scoreline of 6-0. Mapi had been instrumental in the win and it emphasised just how important she was to this team. 

Pride exuded from the captain, having been there throughout the whole journey. Mapi's support, her rock through everything and the centre back felt content, finally, in her embrace. 

It was then that they both realised she had done it; she had achieved something that she didn't even consider being a possibility 14 months ago. 

The whole team was full of congratulations for the centre back, hugs and back claps, smiles and encouraging words and Mapi was completely and utterly basking in it. 

Her mind was full of thoughts, finally in touch with her emotions. 

She thought of her daughter, relaxed and happy with Camila. 

She thought of Luis, and hoped that he would be proud of her. 

She thought of her parents who were watching from Zaragoza, making a mental note to call them when she was alone in her room with Isabel. 

She didn't have to think of Alexia, who was practically glued to her side, a giddy smile on her face. 

But when she thought of Ingrid, she felt nothing but guilt. 

Because Alexia was right, she had been leading her on. The walks, the coffee shops, the dinners. They were dates, there was no other way to define them. 

And she couldn't do that to her, she couldn't do that to the person who had become such a huge support in her life. 

So when she was hugged by Ingrid, she didn't say much. Listening as the Norwegian congratulated her, smiling in appreciation. She hoped that Ingrid understood how grateful she was. 

It took maybe 10 minutes for the centre back to figure out what she wanted to say and how she wanted to say it. 

In hindsight, she probably should have thought about it longer. She definitely shouldn't have acted on the thoughts that came with her post match high. 

Because the look on Ingrid's face as she walked away was something Mapi would never forget, etched in her brain for the rest of time. 

"You've been so good to me, Ingrid, and I'm so grateful. But I'm sorry, I can't do this. I can't have a girlfriend."

She had walked away without giving Ingrid the time to speak, leaving her dumbfounded and frozen on the spot. 

And Mapi was full of regret, having quickly plummeted from her high as she walked back into the tunnel, Alexia's arm wrapped around her shoulder. 

But everything was so much better when she finally got to pick up her daughter, holding her close and smothering her entire head with kisses. 

Because everything she does is for Isabel. 

Isabel comes first. Always.

~~~~~~

ok i think there will either be one or two more chapters of this story but if you me want to i will write like oneshot type things if i get sent requests or if i get my own inspo

i already have one of the future when isabel is at the olympics (nobody has guessed her sport yet. hint: it's not football or any other team sport) and i have received a few requests that i've started the planning phase for and then they'll be written and edited at some point

but yeah, feel free to send anything, can be in the future or the past or the present. i have a vague idea of how her life will go so i'll adapt requests to suit that but i love hearing from you guys so please don't be shy to send anything in!!!

(please send me requests because I love writing about soft Mapi with a daughter)

thanks for reading and have a good day :)

[wolverigrl]

Farewells and Distractions

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

Prepare yourselves for some jealousyyyy! And well, I already have ideas for the next part! I'm so obsessed right now, send help.. :')

Warnings: fluff, angst, nothing more!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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It was early, far too early for me to be awake, but there I was, driving Hugh to the airport. He sat beside me, quiet, his hand resting on my thigh, occasionally squeezing as if to remind himself that I was still there. I glanced over at him, taking in his profile - the way his jawline looked in the dim morning light, the faint tiredness under his eyes. He was heading to Sydney to visit his family for a few weeks, and I’d be joining him the next week. We had planned it so we could have some time apart and then reconnect, just the two of us, after he spent time with his parents and siblings. But as we drove, the reality of that week apart felt heavier than I expected.

“You have everything, right?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended. I already knew the answer. Hugh was meticulous. There was no way he’d forgotten anything.

“Yeah, I’m all set." he replied, his voice equally soft. He glanced out the window for a moment before turning back to me. “I hate leaving you, though.”

I smiled, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “It’s just a week. I’ll be there before you know it, and we’ll have all that time together. Just us.”

“I know,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss my temple. “But it still feels too long.”

We pulled into the airport, and the moment I put the car in park, my stomach flipped. I hated goodbyes, even temporary ones. Hugh reached for his bag in the back seat, and then he turned to me, eyes locking with mine in a way that made everything else seem to fade into the background.

“I’m gonna miss you." I whispered, my throat tight with emotion. I didn’t want to cry - God, it was only a week - but I couldn’t help it.

“I’m gonns miss you too, love." he said, and then he pulled me into a kiss. It wasn’t rushed or hurried like I expected. It was slow, almost reluctant, like neither of us wanted it to end. His lips moved against mine with the kind of tenderness that made me want to cling to him and never let go.

When we finally broke apart, he pressed his forehead against mine, and I felt his breath fan over my face. “I love you." he whispered, his voice barely audible.

My heart skipped a beat. I’d known for a while that I was falling in love with him, but those words… I wasn’t ready to say them yet, not because I didn’t feel them, but because it felt like too much, too fast. I smiled instead, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

He nodded, pulling back and grabbing his bag. With one last glance, he headed inside, disappearing into the terminal. I sat there for a moment, staring at the space where he had been, feeling an ache in my chest that I wasn’t sure how to shake off.

The week without Hugh stretched out longer than I anticipated. I had plans with Ryan and Blake - they were supposed to keep me busy while Hugh was gone - but those plans fell through when Blake called me that afternoon.

“Hey, y/n!” Blake’s voice crackled through the phone. “I’m so sorry, but Ryan and I have to cancel for this week. We’re flying out to Canada - his mom needs help."

“Oh no." I said, leaning back against the couch. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, nothing serious. She just needs an extra pair of hands for a bit. We’ll be gone for a while.”

I tried not to let the disappointment creep into my voice. “No worries. Family comes first. We’ll hang out when you get back.”

After hanging up, I tossed my phone on the couch beside me and sighed. So much for that distraction. I glanced at the screen, wondering if Hugh had texted, but the silence between us was understandable - he was busy with family, and with the massive time difference, we hadn’t spoken much.

As if on cue, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it, expecting a message from Hugh, but instead saw Chris’ name.

CHRIS: Hellooo! What are you up to? I'm in Boston for the week. Scott, Carly and Shana are coming over. Wanna join?

I blinked, a little surprised by the spontaneous invitation, but the thought of spending time with Chris and his siblings sounded like the perfect way to take my mind off Hugh being gone. After a moment of hesitation, I decided to go.

Y/N: Might just take you up on that. Hugh's in Sydney and my plans here fell through.

CHRIS: Perfect! Let me know when you’re coming!

Hugh was busy, and it wasn’t like I was going to spend the week moping around. Plus, I would also meet my other friends, who I haven't seen for a while!

The days in Boston were great. Chris and his siblings were as always easy company, and I found myself laughing more than I had in days. We spent our time wandering through the city, grabbing food at hole-in-the-wall places, and drinking in tiny bars that didn’t care if we lingered for hours. I wasn’t constantly texting Hugh, mostly because the time difference made it hard to sync up, but we exchanged messages when we could even if it was mostly just short messages or a quick selfie.

Y/N: With friends in Boston. One day left! Miss you❤️

HUGH: Hope you have a great time. Miss you too. Can’t wait for you to get here❤️

One night, Chris’s brother snapped a candid photo of us all laughing at some stupid joke Chris had made and posted it on Instagram. I didn’t think much of it at the time - just a fun moment with friends.

After I reposted Scott's photo, I somehow got a weird feeling, because Hugh neither liked nor commented on it. He usually does that with all my posts.

But then my phone buzzed. It was a call from him. I frowned, glancing at the time. It was the middle of the night in Sydney.

“Hey!" I answered, stepping out onto the balcony to get some quiet. “Isn't it late in Sydney? What’s up? Are you okay?”

There was a pause on the other end, and I could hear the hesitation in his voice. “Yeah and yeah I’m fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”

I smiled, leaning against the railing. “What’s keeping you up? Family stuff?”

“Yeah, a little. I miss you." he said, his voice soft, but I could sense something else there too. Something unspoken.

“I miss you too. I’ll be there soon. My flight's tomorrow at noon.” I reassured him, but the nagging feeling that something was wrong wouldn’t go away.

There was another pause before Hugh spoke again. “Yeah okay. Just text me when you're at the airport. What have you been up to?”

“Just hanging out with some friends." I said, hoping to keep things light. “Boston’s been nice. It’s a good distraction.”

“I’m glad." he replied, though his tone didn’t sound completely convinced. I wanted to press, to ask him what was really going on, but something held me back. Maybe it was the distance, or maybe I just didn’t want to have a serious conversation at 3 AM Sydney time.

We talked for a little while longer, mostly about what he’d been doing with his family - going to the beach, having long dinners with his parents. It sounded peaceful, and I couldn’t wait to be there with him. By the time we hung up, I thought things were okay between us.

When I finally arrived in Sydney, I was ready to be wrapped up in my boyfriends arms, to forget about the distance and just be with him. But something was off the moment I saw him at the airport. He hugged me, kissed me, but there was a hesitation in his touch, a distance in his eyes that I hadn’t expected.

“Everything okay?” I asked as we got into the car.

“Yeah, just tired.” he said, brushing it off, but I could tell something was wrong and I didn’t push. Maybe he was still caught up in family obligations.

Over the next couple of days, that distance grew. He wasn’t as affectionate as usual, and when I tried to kiss him or initiate anything more intimate, he pulled back, offering a soft smile but nothing else. It was confusing, and frankly, it hurt.

It all came to a head one evening when we were sitting in his living room, and I could feel the tension crackling in the air between us.

“Hugh." I said cautiously as I looked at his profile. Iis something wrong? You’ve been distant since I got here."

He looked at me, his jaw tightening as if he was wrestling with something he didn’t want to say. “Why didn’t you tell me you were spending all that time with Chris?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What? I told you I was with friends in Boston.”

“You didn’t tell me Chris was one of them." he said, standing up, pacing now. His hands were in his pockets, but I could see the frustration in the way his shoulders tensed. “I saw your Instagram photo, y/n. You and Chris.. you looked really comfortable.”

I stood up too, feeling my heart race with a mix of confusion and frustration. “I didn’t think it mattered. It wasn’t just me and Chris - his siblings were there too. We’re friends, Hugh. That’s all.”

“I know you’re friends, but that’s not the point!" Hugh interrupted, his voice rising slightly. He turned to face me fully, his eyes searching mine as if trying to find something he couldn’t quite name. "You didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you just tell me it was him?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Because it wasn’t important, Hugh! We were in a group, it wasn’t just the two of us, and I didn’t think it would bother you. Chris and I are over. We’ve been over for years."

Hugh’s face tightened, and he took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his composure. "But you two were something once. And now you’re still close, still spending time together, laughing together. I trust you, y/n, but… it’s hard for me to ignore the fact that you didn’t think it was worth mentioning."

I stared at him, feeling my own frustration bubbling to the surface. "Are you seriously mad because I didn’t explicitly say Chris was there? You know we’re friends. I didn’t hide it. I didn’t lie to you."

"It’s not just about Chris," Hugh snapped, finally letting the words spill out. "It’s about everything. You didn't even say anything back to me at the airport! I couldn’t help but felt like you didn’t really want this and went to see him. Maybe I’m too old for this, for you. And when I see you with someone like Chris, who’s younger, who shares your world more than I do… I just start to wonder."

His words hit me like a punch in the gut. I hadn’t realized he’d been carrying all this around with him, this insecurity about us, about our relationship. "Hugh, how could you even think that? We talked about the age difference and you were the one who literally said, that it's fine! It doesn’t even matter to me, and it’s never been about that. I didn’t realize you felt this way… you should have told me."

"I didn’t want to burden you with it. Especially after you were concerned about our relationship and the media." he muttered, turning away, his shoulders slumping slightly. "It’s my issue, not yours."

"No, it is our issue if it’s affecting us like this." I said, stepping closer to him. "You should have told me you were feeling like this, Hugh. I don’t want you to feel insecure about us, or about me spending time with anyone. I love being with you and I want to be with you."

He ran a hand through his hair, still not meeting my eyes. "It’s hard. I see how easy it is for you and Chris to be around each other after you have been together and I thought… maybe I’m holding you back and the thought intensified after you didn't say 'I love you' back."

I felt my chest tighten, a knot of frustration and sadness coiling inside me. "Hugh, that’s not true. You’re not holding me back. I’m with you because I choose to be. Chris is a friend, but you’re the one I want to be with. You’re the one I’m in love with. Also you caught me off guard with that and it was somehow too much for me to tell you before we said goodbye."

At that, Hugh’s eyes finally lifted to meet mine. For a moment, his expression softened, but the weight of everything still hung between us. "I don’t want to feel this way, y/n. I don’t want to doubt us."

"Then don’t." I said, stepping closer, placing my hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my palm. "You don’t have to doubt anything. I’m here with you because I want to be, not because I feel like I have to. I love you, Hugh. I love you in ways I didn’t think I could. And I need you to believe that."

He swallowed hard, and for a moment, I thought he might cry, or that I might cry, but instead, he pulled me into his arms. He held me tight, his chin resting on top of my head as he whispered, "I’m sorry. I’m sorry for letting this get to me."

I hugged him back, feeling the tension slowly ease out of him as we stood there, wrapped up in each other. "I’m sorry I didn’t think to tell you about Chris." I murmured against his chest. "I didn’t mean to make you feel like you couldn’t trust me."

Hugh kissed the top of my head, his arms tightening around me. "I do trust you. I just… I get scared sometimes too. It's my first relationship after a long marriage. It's new to me too."

"I know." I whispered. "We’ll figure it out together."

After a few minutes, I pulled away gently, looking up at him. "Do you want to talk more about it, or…?"

He shook his head, smiling softly. "No. I think we’ve talked enough for tonight." Then, his expression shifted, something playful creeping into his eyes. "How about we make some dinner? I know we’ve got some things we could whip up."

I smiled, grateful for the change in tone. "That sounds good. Let’s go cook."

Standing in Hugh's kitchen, I stirred the vegetables as the aroma of garlic and fresh herbs filled the air. Hugh was chopping some tomatoes next to me, the sound of his knife tapping against the cutting board rhythmic and soothing. We'd been talking for a while about upcoming projects - the usual couple interviews and some new film roles hat were coming our way.

He glanced at me with that familiar twinkle in his eyes. "You know, they've asked for some couple interview next month. Think we can manage to look civilized for one hour?" His lips curled into a teasing smile.

I raised an eyebrow, stirring the sauce as I shot him a look. “Do we really have to talk about that now? I thought this was our quiet time.”

Hugh chuckled and set his glass down, pushing away from the counter to move closer to me. “It is, but you know they’re going to ask us sooner or later. They’re all dying for a chance to talk to us - Hollywood’s favorite couple.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, sure. You might be used to the spotlight, but I’m still getting used to it. Besides, I think they’re more interested in you than me.”

He slid up behind me, his arms snaking around my waist as he rested his chin on my head. “Oh, they’re definitely interested in you, trust me. And I think we make a pretty good team. You’re a natural on camera.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “That’s because you’re always cracking jokes and making me laugh. You're the one who always makes some smartass comment that gets us off track, but I don’t think I could get through an interview without you by my side.”

Hugh kissed my temple softly, his lips brushing against my skin. “Exactly. That’s why we should say yes to a couple of these. It’ll be fun. We can give them a little peek into our life.”

I sighed, stirring the sauce as I leaned back into him. “Alright, alright. I’ll consider it. But only if you promise to keep it light. No deep-dive, personal stuff.”

He raised an eyebrow, his breath warm against my ear. “No promises. They always find a way to ask the hard questions.”

I turned to face him, my hands sliding up to rest on his chest as I narrowed my eyes. “Then you’re answering those.”

He laughed, leaning down to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Deal. I’ll take the tough ones.”

As I turned back to the stove, Hugh kept his arms around me, his body pressed close to mine as he spoke. “You know, I’ve been getting some new film offers too. There’s one that might shoot in New Zealand next year.”

I felt a twinge of excitement at the mention of New Zealand. “Really? That sounds amazing. Have you decided if you’re going to do it?”

He shrugged, his hands absentmindedly playing with the hem of my shirt as he spoke. “I’m still thinking about it. I want to make sure it won’t take up too much time. I’d rather spend more of it with you.” His voice dropped, soft and intimate, and I couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly he shifted from teasing to sincere.

I turned to face him again, this time resting my hands on his arms. “You’re really not going to stop making me blush, are you?”

He grinned, leaning down to kiss me again, this time slower, lingering. “Not a chance.”

We stood there, the conversation fading as our lips met again and again, the kitchen suddenly feeling much smaller as the heat between us built. It wasn’t long before the playful kisses turned into something deeper, more urgent, and I found myself wrapped in his arms, pressed up against the counter, his hands sliding up my back as he kissed me like he couldn’t get enough.

Just as I was getting completely lost in the moment, Hugh pulled back, his breathing heavy as he gazed down at me. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you." he said, his voice a little more serious now.

I blinked, trying to focus through the haze of desire. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, his thumb brushing over my cheek as he spoke. “The kids… they’ve been asking about you. They want to meet you.”

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. His kids. I knew this moment would come eventually, but the thought of meeting them, of stepping into that part of his life, made my stomach twist with nerves.

“Oh.." I said softly, my voice betraying my uncertainty. “I didn’t know they’d been asking about me.”

He nodded, his expression gentle but serious. “Yeah. I called them yesterday and they’ve been curious for a while now, but I didn’t want to bring it up until I felt like we were both ready.”

I swallowed, the weight of his words sinking in. “And… you think we’re ready?”

He held my gaze, his hand moving to cup the back of my neck. “I do. But it’s up to you. If you’re not ready, we can wait. There’s no rush.”

I took a deep breath, my mind racing. Meeting his kids was a big step, and the last thing I wanted to do was mess it up. But at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel like it was the natural next step. Hugh was such an important part of my life now, and if his kids wanted to get to know me, maybe it was time.

“I think I’m ready." I said, my voice steadying as I spoke. “I’d love to meet them.”

The relief on Hugh’s face was instant, and he pulled me into a tight hug, his lips pressing against my hair. “You have no idea how happy that makes me." he murmured, his voice filled with emotion.

I smiled against his chest, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “I just hope they like me.”

Hugh pulled back, his hands framing my face as he looked down at me with absolute certainty. “They’re going to love you. Just like I do.”

I bit my lip, my heart swelling at his words. “I love you too." I whispered, feeling the weight of those words settle between us.

Hugh smiled, his eyes soft as he leaned down to kiss me again, this time slower, more deliberate. “I know.”

We stood there for a few moments, wrapped in each other, the conversation lingering in the air. But as the sauce on the stove began to bubble, Hugh pulled back with a playful grin. “Alright, we better finish this before we burn the house down.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I turned back to the stove. “You’re the distraction, not me.”

Hugh stepped up behind me again, his arms wrapping around my waist as he rested his chin on my shoulder. “You know..” he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone that always drove me crazy. “You could be right. But I think you like it and that we may need small breaks in between cooking."

I tried to focus on stirring the sauce, but it was impossible with him pressed up against me like that, his hands sliding up under my shirt, his touch warm against my skin. “Hugh.." I breathed, already feeling my resolve weakening.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. “You were saying?”

I let out a soft moan, leaning back into him as his hands tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. “You’re impossible." I managed to say, though my voice came out shaky.

“Impossible?” he echoed, his mouth moving down my neck, sending shivers through my entire body. “I think you like me just the way I am.”

I laughed breathlessly, trying to keep the sauce from burning as he continued to kiss my neck, his hands exploring every inch of me. “The sauce is going to- ” I started, but before I could finish, the sound of bubbling and sizzling filled the air, and I realized that it was already too late.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, quickly turning off the stove as Hugh stepped back with a satisfied grin on his face.

He laughed, leaning against the counter as I tried to salvage what I could of dinner. “I told you we needed a break.”

I shot him a look over my shoulder, but I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. “This is your fault.”

He shrugged, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Maybe. But I think you enjoyed it.”

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the stove. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Damn right, I am,” he said with a wink, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Even when everything else was up in the air - work, interviews, meeting his kids -  knew that as long as we had moments like this, we’d be just fine.

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@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74

Next Part

[doitforbangchan]

Beside you - L.M

Pairing: Idol!Minho x reader

Requested: my wonderful friend @softkisshyunjin requested this ages ago. Sorry for the wait love 💖

Warnings: Angst, fluff, cursing, established relationship not edited 😘

WC: 1.4k exactly

This is based on the song 'Beside you' by 5 Seconds of Summer Masterlist

“All packed?” 

“Mm, almost. Just need to get my last pair of shoes.” Minho replied, reaching into his closet and pulling out his favorite pair of kicks. He set them in his suitcase and zipped it up with a sigh. “There. I think that’s all.” 

You offered him a delicate smile, smacking the top of the suitcase for good measure. Today he was leaving for another country for a series of interviews and performances for the newest comeback. You were more proud of him and his success that words could describe, but that didn’t mean you both hadn’t been dreading today for weeks. Even though you had been together for years at this point it being away from him never got any easier.

Minho ran a hand through his hair as he turned to face you, “I don’t wanna go.” 

You snorted, “Don’t say that, Chan would have your head if he heard you say that.” You reached out and smoothed the creases in his shirt, and he grabbed your hand and placed it on his heart. 

“I’m serious. I don’t want to go if it means leaving you here alone. Again.” He gazed deep into your eyes, no hint of jest in his expression. You gulped as you tried to find a good reply, and Minho could the thoughts swirling around in your head. Words you would never say aloud. 

“Well,” You started, clearing your voice. “I’m not alone. I have our babies, and you know those three are a full time job with their antics. They get it from their dad, afterall.” Of course you would use the cats as a deflection. 

“You know what I mean.” He put his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. “I’m being serious, you know.” 

“So am I, Min. This is your dream- your calling even. There's no way I would let you stay here when you have all the STAY to make happy. I’ll be ok.” Your hand that wasn’t on his heart cupped his cheek and rubbed his cheek bones softly. “Plus, you won’t be completely gone. Not really.” He hummed in question. “I’ll have you here in my heart, just as you’ll have me. Just don’t ever leave it.” 

“Never.” He answered immediately. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Minho.” You pressed a kiss to his lips and he pulled you into his hold, squeezing you tightly and letting all the emotions within him pour into you. “Promise to call me everyday?” 

“I promise.”

The dial tone kept ringing as Minho held his phone up to his ear. He knew it was late back home, maybe too late, but he needed to speak to you- to hear your voice before he got ready for bed. He had broken the promise he made before he left to call you everyday. In fact he had gone two full weeks and hadn’t called you in over two days, having been extremely busy since he got off the plane. He was exhausted but the only thing that would give him strength to get through the long day tomorrow was you.

“Come on.” He muttered, chewing his bottom lip. “Pick up..” 

There was a crackling as the phone stopped ringing, a scratchy voice answering. “Hello?” 

Minho could tell by your voice that something was wrong, that you had been crying. “Baby? Are you ok? What’s wrong?” 

You tried to hide your sniffling with a poor excuse for a yawn, “Nothing, Min. M’ fine just in bed. Tired.” 

He knew you were lying so he pressed a little harder. “Y/n, my love, please talk to me. I can’t do anything to help if I don’t know what’s wrong.” 

“There’s nothing you can do to help, Min. It’s a me problem. I’ll get over it, I promise.” At your words he felt like he understood why you were upset, and it damn near broke his heart into tiny pieces. 

“I miss you too, my love. So so much.” His voice cracked as he professed. “I’m sorry I didn’t call yesterday. I’m so sorry.” 

There was no denying the pain that resounded in your cries when he revealed the reason for your sadness. “M’ sorry, I tried not to let it get to me. I should be used to this by now but here I am blubbering like a toddler.” 

“No, don't say that baby, it gets to me too. I miss you more than I miss breathing.I would give anything to be beside you right now.” He clutched the phone tighter in his hand, “I know you lie awake at night..” The singer was trying to find the words to say but his mind kept going back to his yearning for you. “I can’t stand being so far away while you sleep alone. My heart wants to come home.” 

“I couldn’t be selfish and ask you to do that.” 

“Then don’t ask. You don’t have to.” His mind was racing a million miles a minute, and the beating in his chest told him his heart was much the same. “I’ll fly you out.” 

There was a beat of silence from your end and it filled him with anxiety. 

“Min..” It came out as a whisper. 

“I’ll buy you a ticket right now. I can have you on the next plane out. I would do anything to have you here. Anything to be beside you.” He was frantic as he pulled out his laptop and booted it up. 

There was more silence from your end, but he paid that no mind as he looked up the next available flight. 

“Here we go, I know it’ll be a little early but there’s one departing at-” 

“Minho.” Your voice snapped him out of his rumination. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. The company wouldn’t like it if I tagged along, they already have their reservations about our relationship.” 

He scoffed, entering in your information on the laptop. “ Who gives a shit what the company thinks about it?” 

“I do, Minho. And you should too. JYPE is responsible for your whole career.” 

“Yes, they are. But I’m also a part of the reason they make so much money.” His words were cocky and he knew it but he needed to get his point across. “What are they gonna do? Fire me? As if that would fly. And if they try to say anything about it then I’ll walk.” You went to protest but he cut you off. “I’m not joking, I can’t let you be alone any longer. I need you with me.” 

“I’m not alone, you're here with me. There are pieces of us both under every city light. We are never without each other, even if sometimes it hurts. We both fall asleep underneath the same sky, and we both wake up under the same sun. Separate but never truly apart.” You sniffled and Minho knew you were wiping your tears away. The ache in his chest was still heavy, even though the way you expressed the connection you share so beautifully had eyes welling up in his own eyes. Good thing you couldn’t see his face right now or you would have teased him.

His voice broke as he spoke into the receiver. “This hurt is almost too much to bear.” 

“I know, love. But it’ll be over before we both know it. I just keep telling myself that.” 

“When did you get so wise?” He tried to crack a joke to lighten the mood, and was greeted by a small giggle from the other end of the phone. 

“One of us has to be and we both know it’s not you.” 

“Hey! I’m wise.”  The man protested.

Silence

“Sometimes.” He relented sheepishly. You both couldn’t help the laughs that escaped you both. “I still think it’s a good idea to fly you out.” 

“Let’s sleep on it, and if tomorrow you still want to buy a plane ticket we can discuss it further.” You suggested light heartedly, and even though Minho knew he would feel the same way then as he does now he agreed. “We really should get some rest, Min. You have a busy day tomorrow.” 

“You’re right, I will be busy.. Buying the love of my life a ticket straight to me. Mark my words, this will be the last day I wake up without being beside you.” 

I know it's a lil short but I am so happy with this little fic :') I hope you like it Amber 💝thank you for your patience

©doitforbangchan 2024

@jehhskz @ayejaii

[luveline]

i have a request idea! maybe aaron x reader where the reader is bullied/ being maltreated by her roommates like that one remus headcanon you filled? i love protective hotch but i get it if you don’t think this goes with him! your fics give me sm comfort thank you for writing them <3

thank you my love. fem, 1.5k

cw bullying/ unfriendly roommates

You can't believe it's Aaron's car. No way is his timing this bad. There's just no way he's home from a case, that he's chosen to visit without calling first, today. Right now. 

He's out of the car before you've so much as wiped your cheeks dry. You've never seen him park that fast. 

"What are you doing out here?" he asks, looking you up and down. "Let me help you up, sweetheart." 

Sweetheart so soon after seeing you —you must look terrible. You take his hand and stand up off of the floor, unperturbed as he brushes down your butt and thighs. 

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" he asks, soft, "It's wet, honey, you're crying– What's wrong?" 

You remember suddenly that you have someone on your side. Shaking, you tuck your arms under his and cross them behind his back, the fabric of his suit jacket familiar under your trembling fingers. You feel like a kid again at the mercy of other people's cruelty, but this hasn't been something you could run away from. The meanness takes root at home. But now Aaron's here and he's holding you, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head delicately, his voice a murmur as he reassures you, "It's alright." He presses his cheek to the plane just adjacent to your eye. "Honey, please don't cry." 

"They smashed my vase," you say into his chest. 

"Who?" 

"My roommates, Aaron, they don't– don't like me." The vase was a gift. Special to you, irreplaceable, you've brought it safely from one place to another without ever having broken it. It was in the kitchen, housing your most recent bouquet of flowers from Aaron. "Macy said it fell over, but they were laughing, and they said the same thing about my bag, my– my sketchbook. They keep ruining my things, they throw away my food, and they laugh at me all the time, even when I'm not doing anything. I know they are."  

The laughing is honestly the worst part. Like your reaction isn't even worth considering, it doesn't bother them that you're upset, they just giggle and tell you to feel better. Sometimes they apologise like it wasn't them. Sorry about that, maybe don't leave it somewhere it could get ruined? with a smile that hardly counts as sympathetic. 

"How long has this been happening?" he asks. 

Months. "Since we met, at least." 

Aaron makes a noise you don't understand. You wait for him to say more, but he only rubs your back diligently for a time before ushering you into the car. A bag of takeout has gone cold in the passenger seat, the backseat busy with his go bag and a new bouquet. He's very, very good to you. 

In the car, he reaches across the console to fret over you, stroking your damp cheeks and rubbing your shoulders. You feel as though all your energy has been stolen. All you can do is lean into his hand as he wipes away your quiet tears. 

—

Hotch watches you cry in his passenger seat and feels pretty angry. It's not often like him to turn to anger when the people he cares about are upset. He's more of a problem solver. But when it's as bad as it is now, he doesn't bother restraining himself. 

He knew there was something about your roommates that you weren't telling him. Obviously, as the partner in the relationship who doesn't have roommates, Hotch hosts the majority of your 'sleepovers'. It's easier and awards more privacy most of the time, and honestly, he's not at the age where he's very interested in bumping into people on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. He'd prefer to be home, and much prefer to have you there. 

He was wondering about asking you to move in, but there never seemed to be a good time, and right now your answer would likely be influenced by the insecurity of your home rather than true desire to live with him. He knows one day, he'll ask, and one day you'll say yes, (or he hopes), and so he keeps it in mind but otherwise proposes a temporary arrangement. 

"Let's go get some of your things and you can stay with me for a few days," he says. 

"Are you sure?" you ask. "What about Jack?" 

"He'll be happy for the company. Trust me." 

Hotch isn't shallow, but he likes being that little bit taller than you, and he's no brute, either, but he knows he's intimidating at times. He'd never use his position to scare private citizens in civilian disputes, but seeing the amusement in the eyes of your  roommates turn to nervous recognition when he follows in behind you makes his day. 

She's not alone, he thinks, putting his hand to your back. 

He might put their behaviour down to jealousy. Not so much that they wish they were with Hotch, there's hardly been any desire for him coming from either woman, but your happiness. You're a nice girl, a good girl, good in the sense that you don't need to knock others down to be happy. He treats you accordingly. 

He pointedly doesn't greet them as you show him the corridor down to your room. Your door is ajar, which he doesn't like, but you don't say anything about your things. 

"What do you need?" he asks.

"How long will I stay?" 

"However long you need to. If you want time to feel better while we manage this, or you need to move. I'm with you." He again thinks of the lack of a lock. "I'd say bring your valuables, honey. So nothing miraculously breaks." 

He ends up packing for you. He knows you well, and he's more than aware of what you'll need to survive for a week. What clothes, which pyjamas you favour, even your skincare. He has a career in identifying small details, but it's a better duty knowing you so well. He does that for fun. 

You stop by the door and turn into his side, hesitant to leave. He hates seeing you wilted, usually so bright. "They're talking about me." 

Your roommates are indeed whispering in the kitchen and Hotch would bet money that you're correct, but he doesn't want to encourage that line of thought. It could easily become a seed of doubt that leaves you anxious and paranoid. 

"I'd hope they were discussing their own bullying," he says. 

You rest your forehead on his arm. "What did I ever do to them?" 

"You're happy. You're grateful and loving, and some people can't stand it. They can't rope you into their misery," he guesses. "Have you considered the possibility that you're a bad roommate?" 

You laugh into his jacket reluctantly. "You know I'm not."

"Maybe you behave with me," he says, rubbing the top of your shoulder. Your laughter draws a silence in the kitchen. Hotch can't help himself. "Don't forget to turn your security camera on before we leave," he says, holding a finger over his lips. 

You smile. "Oh, I almost forgot about that." 

Your roommates aren't so full of cheer as you go. At least without a lock on the door, Hotch can be confident that his… bending of the truth will buy your possessions a few more days of safety. You don't have to tell your roommates that you're leaving, evidenced by your bags, but Hotch is feeling awful, and he says, "Do you have your bathing suit? Your passport's in the bag." 

"What is wrong with you?" you whisper through laughter as the door closes behind you both. "I had no idea you were this quick to tell lies." 

Hotch pulls your bag further up his arm to take your hand. "I wasn't lying about anything, your passport is in the bag, and I asked a question. If that question implies that you're about to have a fun weekend, that's coincidental." 

He doesn't want your roommates thinking they have any power over you. Not an inch of it. And he doesn't want you thinking that they do either, knee deep in plans for the forthcoming days. He's going to spoil you to death if he can, starting with a new vase for your waiting flowers, and a good squeeze on the way down to the car to prompt you into relaxing. 

"Sorry about all the fuss," you say. 

He kisses you twice. "Don't think of it that way." Rather boss-toned, he softens, "I'll deal with anything for you. I'm sorry they've been cruel." 

You exhale. He can tell from the tug of your eyebrows that it's partly for his benefit, and the more lax set of your shoulders that it's partly genuine as you brush it off. "Doesn't matter. Just an excuse to spend more time with you, yeah?" 

"Yes," he says immediately. "You're right, honey. Exactly right." Starting with one of his clumsy neck massages and a much more practised kiss, he thinks. 

[cumikering]

F1 John Price x reader 2

3.1k | fluff, suggestive Nights in London were warmer with you (part 1) (part 3)

“I’m going back home Thursday,” John said after you placed your orders at another quiet restaurant.

“That’s nice. I’m going home closer to the holidays. Need to keep the shop open.” You beamed. “Apparently a few weeks ago, a racer posted the cookies on Instagram and people started piling up.”

His heart skipped a beat. It must have been Kyle. The lad couldn’t stay away from social media, always posting something - a far cry from him who only had an account strictly for business, as part of most brand deals.

Including McLaren. John was to post at least a photo every week. Unlike his teammate, his page consisted mostly of professional photos, usually taken from races, or the skyline of the cities where his races took place in.

Did you know who he was? “Who was it?”

“I don’t know. I probably should have asked. Christy - one of my girls - found out from a customer, but I’m just so, so grateful. We got so many orders for Christmas gift this year.”

“That’s wonderful, love.” He squeezed your hand. “Let me get a box to take home. My parents would love them. Can you squeeze me in?”

“Always.”

John pulled up at your apartment and brought your hand to his lips. “Hope I’m not too forward, love, but how soon can I see you again?”

You smiled. “Tomorrow? Dinner’s on me. You pick the place.”

The Japanese near your shop caught his eye (he loved his salmon teriyaki), and when he dropped you off the next night, again, he asked who was picking dinner the night after.

“My groceries aren’t going to last much longer, I’m afraid. I need to cook tomorrow.”

“Right,” he muttered.

He had pushed his luck. His cheeks heated from his presumption. He was seeing you too often at such an early stage even that it would have been his last night before leaving for three weeks.

“You’re welcome to join me.”

“I’d love that.”

John didn’t remember the last time anyone cooked for or with him like this. He didn’t realise how much he craved spending a quiet night in enjoying your company without having to worry about being conspicuous in the privacy of your own home.

He didn’t get to date much, but it was pathetic how none of the women he was seeing, not even the one he was with for a year, wanted to stay home much at all.

When he met her at a bar, he was an F1 rookie, an up and coming driver still struggling to establish his footing on the grid. Things kept going wrong, and he was constantly on edge about his contract being terminated, beating himself up over any mistake lest it costed him his career that had barely taken off.

She was a breath of fresh air. While he had been uptight, all up in his head, forgetting to be grateful of how far he’d gone, she was untroubled. He had the money, and she knew how to spend it. Overnight, his life swirled around luxury and status. She taught him how to live good, and he did.

The stunt she pulled boosted his career. Sponsors and deals poured in and he worried less. The cruelty of his mind mellowed and it allowed him to breathe. He finished 6th that season.

On your couch, John fumbled with his long-empty beer bottle. Despite not wanting the night to end yet, it had to as your bedtime inched closer.

“Thank you for dinner, love. It was grand.” He placed the bottle on the side table.

“We can do that again next time.”

He swallowed and looked up at you. “May I kiss you?”

A sweet smile bloomed on your pretty face and you scooted closer to him. He let out a shaky breath when your soft lips pressed against his. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you cupped his face. Your fingertips slid down his neck before you pulled away, much to his chagrin.

You looked away, biting your lip. “I’m sorry, this is such an odd thing to say, but you’ve got a really muscular neck.”

“Do you like it?” he asked, slightly breathless, his heart beating out of his chest.

You leaned back in. He almost whimpered at the way your kisses seared the sensitive skin of his neck, his grip tightening on your hips as he guided you over his lap.

When you pulled away again for a breath, you bit back a grin while John and his hooded eyes weren’t all there.

“You’re falling asleep.”

“No, I’m not.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck as the high coursed through his veins before chuckling to himself.

He needed a moment to recover from the heady fact that he’d just kissed you. That your hot, wet tongue swiped over his lower lip before brushing against his own as he held you flush to him with greedy hands.

You cradled his face. “Promise you’ll get home safe.”

John gave you another peck at the door. Despite the uncomfortable throb against his jeans, he left with a grin.

The next morning was freezing, but the comforting smell of coffee and cookies baking welcomed him into your warm shop as John wheeled his luggage behind him.

“Mornin’, love,” he greeted, making you look up from the register.

“Hi- Oh no, you’re early. The cookies are still cooling.” You glanced at the clock. “Have you got 15 minutes?”

“No worries. I’ve got time to kill.” He pulled out his phone. “Ring me up, love.”

“No, no. It’s on the house. My Christmas gift for the Sloanes.”

You were too beautiful smiling up at him with such bright eyes. “Thank you.”

“Why don’t you sit? I’ll make you a drink.”

Moments later, you set a paper cup in front of him.

“What’s this?” He chuckled at the doodle on the side, picking up the cup to inspect it closer. It was a man in a cap, a cookie on the side. “S’that me?”

You nodded with a small smile.

He wanted to kiss you right then, but reached for your hand instead. “That’s real sweet, love.”

When you disappeared into the kitchen, he took a picture of the cup, heart fluttering at the gesture. He knew just what to post that week.

“You have a safe trip, John. Enjoy your holiday.” You gave him a squeeze in front of his ride.

He couldn’t help pulling his mask down and leaning in for a peck, your gift with the large bow in hand. You smiled against his lips.

On the way to the train station, just minutes after he posted the photo, Gaz sent him the eyes emoji. He snickered. Kyle Garrick was chronically online.

He replied with a quick snap of the box of cookies.

Shite, should have got some for Birmingham too. Get me some when I’m back!

John’s mum gave him a bear hug at the door of the house before announcing his arrival to his dad. He placed your gift on the coffee table and his mum poured them tea – she always had some ready whenever he visited.

He sat back on the couch, looking out the window at the backyard. It was bleak, barren from winter, but it made him fuzzy all the same. He’d missed home.

The next few days, you were busier than ever at work cranking out orders with your girls. You went home and slept straight away, and rinsed and repeated the next day. John, meanwhile, spent his time visiting cousins and relatives around the city.

That Sunday when you finally had some time off, he was out the whole day while the very thing he wanted to do was to talk to you. When he got back home and cleaned up, it was past your bedtime, but you’d insisted on waiting up for his call.

“John,” you muttered sleepily. It was the first time he heard you since he left.

The voice he’d missed so much send a shiver straight down his spine. “H- hi.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got baby photos to show me?”

He chuckled. “We’ve got some in the living room, but it’s so bloody cold right now and I don’t want to leave my bed.”

“It’s freezing here too, but it must be even colder up there.”

Cuddling with you sounds perfect right now. “I might have other photos on my phone if you want to see?”

“Of course,” you said, but it sounded more like purring in his ears.

He bit his lip, going through his gallery before sending you a photo of him grinning ear to ear in a go-kart next to his parents in front of their house.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “You were so adorable.”

He smiled. “They got me my own kart for my 8th birthday. It was so early, I was still in my pyjamas.”

John Price didn’t come from money, nor did he have any speck of racing in his lineage, but when a friend of his celebrated his 7th birthday at a karting track, his life was forever changed. A lap in, and the adrenaline bug sank its fangs deep into his skin and never let go.

“Been into cars since a kid, huh?“

“Huge fan.”

For the next 5 years, his dad juggled multiple jobs, sometimes even 4 at a time, while his mum worked odd ones to get by between taking care of the house. Despite the efforts, they still needed to let go of the family house to support him.

Having to constantly move around from relative to relative, they had to drop most of their belongings, but never John’s hard-earned trophies even when it meant less living space.

“This was my first time in London.” He sent you another photo of his family, Big Ben in the background. “It was the best day ever.”

He didn’t understand why his parents sacrificed so much for him, put so much on the line. He didn’t know what they saw in him. But at 13, on that fateful day that altered the trajectory of his life, he was signed into the McLaren driver development programme. Sent to a boarding school, he called London home ever since.

“You had such chubby cheeks! I love it.”

“And this… I’m not there, but this is another one of my favourites.” It was his parents in front of their current home.

“The house got renovated?”

When John secured his F1 seat at 20, the first thing he did was buy the house back. Over the years, the previous owner had made many changes that left his childhood home barely recognisable, but his parents loved it all the same. It was where it all started after all.

“Yeah. The heater always works now.” He laughed. “Except tonight. Something is bloody wrong with the cold tonight. I’ve cranked the heat up but it’s still freezing.”

“When I was young, we had a dog called Rosie. She was my personal heater.”

“What was she like?”

“She was huge, an impossibly fluffy black Newfoundland. Loved to cuddle.”

He smiled. “That sounds wonderful. We never had a pet.”

“Would you want one?”

“A dog, yes, in the future.” His mind drifted to the family pets of his childhood friends. “I like knowing that as long as I love him, he’ll love me back. That I’ll always be enough.”

“That’s true. One of my favourite memories is coming home from school and having her accidentally smack me with her tail because she was so happy to see me.” You paused. “When she passed, I cried for days. My parents said she was from Canada, so I always said I wanted to go there and adopt one of her siblings.” You laughed. “Well, that never happened.”

“I’m sorry.” He could only imagine what it felt to lose your best friend and his heart ached for you. He wanted to wrap you in his arms.

“Have you been to Canada?”

“I have, for work. It’s beautiful there, gorgeous lakes. You’d love it.”

“Yeah? Maybe one day I’d get to see for myself.”

I’ll take you there, he almost promised out loud. He chewed on his lip. He’d love to take you to the next Canadian Grand Prix. In fact, he’d love it if you could come to each race, but it was something too distant in the future for him to even have the guts to picture.

You yawned. “I should sleep.”

No, no. He still missed you. “Can I stay a bit longer? I’ll hang up later.”

“Yeah, alright.”

There was rustling on your end, he imagined you tucked yourself under the covers and rolled over.

You let out a long, content sigh. “Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, love,” he muttered.

How was he going to survive the rest of his trip? His chest was going to explode.

It didn’t take long for your breathing to slow and eventually deepened. He swallowed, ashamed of the images your sleepy voice had roused that resulted in the situation in his sweats.

John never hung up because he fell asleep listening to you.

In the next three weeks, distance didn’t deter John from getting to know you. While you were busy at work during the day, you found the time to call every night, no matter how short. When you’ve gone back home, in turn, you showed him photos of your hometown and your family. But your selfies were his favourite. He loved looking at them throughout the day.

He counted down the days he’d be back in London. When initial connections were prone to fizzing out with space, it made each chance to see you even more precious to him. It was all he wanted to do.

That Saturday, once more, he headed straight to yours from the airport, always in a black mask and a cap.

“John!” You swung the door open in a cosy oversized shirt and pulled him for a hug.

He wrapped his arms tight around you, grinning into your hair. He didn’t realise he missed you this much, your warmth, your smell.

He followed you in, wheeling his luggage behind him. “I got you this,” he said, holding out a bag.

“What’s this?” You peeked into it.

“It’s my favourite blueberry loaf from the bakery we always went to, ever since I was a kid. Thought you’d like it too.”

“Thank you.” You squeezed his forearm.

With your eyes bright and smile sweet, he couldn’t help himself anymore. He yanked his mask down and pulled you in by the waist. Against his lips, you giggled, arms wrapping around his neck.

“Didn’t realise you’ve got a beard now.” You pulled away, giving it a once over. “It tickles, but I like it.”

During the season, he never grew out more than a stubble because of how uncomfortable it was under the balaclava and helmet, so he always liked to grow it out each chance he had. Especially now that he didn’t want to be recognised in public with you.

“I’m making you dinner.” You helped him take his coat off and hung it behind the door.

He blinked. “What?”

“You haven’t eaten, have you?”

Constantly out to expensive spots wearing designer brands, jetting all over the world with champagne in hand, John’s previous relationship was beautiful. On the outside at least.

As exhilarating as it all was, to him, it grew old and tiring too fast. While she thrived in the buzz of the media, always picture-perfect as the pretty girlfriend of a rising star, he was barely alive from his work commitments and catering to her whims.

She had been more interested in picking trending outfits to wear to the swanky restaurants regardless how tired he was at the end of the day. Countless arguments inevitably stemmed from him not bothering to wear anything more than a plain t-shirt for a weekday dinner. Still, he plastered a smile on as he was dragged to these places, too bright and loud. It was the woman he loved.

It was a fleeting thought at first, but he started missing the quiet life he had, when he didn’t have to be hounded by what people thought of him. About why he wasn’t at the grand opening of some bar with the foreign name, why he was still rocking a 4 year-old phone, if John Price wore the same hoodie two days in a row.

She was too eager to smile at the cameras, basking in the limelight. She wasn’t unkind or ill-meaning, but the affection that once drew him to her was long gone leaving him feeling alone and unwanted in his own relationship. It took him too long to accept she was there for John Price the F1 driver, not the bloke from Liverpool anymore, if she even ever was.

When he finally ended it, it barely took a month before she was on some footballer’s arm. Betrayal scorched his stomach. It hurt more than words, but perhaps it was the price to pay for being where he was. He never knew who to trust.

“It’s salmon with broccoli and rice. I don’t cook a lot of fish, but I tried this marinate I thought you’d like,” you rambled. “I hope it tastes alright even if I mess it up the temperature.”

“No, it would be perfect. Thank you so much.”

You cooking for him, his favourite food at that, meant so much more than you could imagine. You brought warmth to his chest.

After dinner, you snuggled with him on the couch. The chatter of the TV melted away. He let his longing for you dissipate as he inhaled the comforting scent of your hair as you traced his long fingers.

You turned to him, holding his gaze for a moment before you mumbled, “Would you like to stay the night?”

Was it not evident in the way he couldn’t let you out of his sight that he didn’t want to part?

John climbed in your bed and pressed his chest against your back, curling up around you, an arm around your waist. He let out a long, content sigh as he basked in the sensation of your soft body on him.

“You said Liverpool was bloody cold, but you run so warm.” You laughed. “That means I won’t even survive.”

He smiled into your hair. “You won’t have to worry about that when I’m around.”

He had two months before the next season started. If he was lucky – and he really wished he was, it meant more nights like this with you, many nights, he hoped. Just like this.

Masterlist Ex bf John Price

@tiredmetalenthusiast @le16erc @kyletogaz @kechiwrites @mikichko

@secretsynthetic @foo1ishs3renity @juicyjujuuu @ladydevilofhell @rowanyaboats

@hungrycrazy @readreblogfics @nocturnalreader106 @panda-b0s @stickerguts

@strong-bronze-or-regal-black @sadcowboyhours

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity)Chapter Six: Telephone Call

Chapter Six: Telephone Call

warnings: smoking, angst, phone sex, male and female masturbation pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: after the party, you and Kento find yourselves almost too nervous to talk to one another, yet at your last chance meeting before the summer he drops a bomb on you. despite this, you two find yourselves getting busy over the phone a/n: sorry for the delay...but I found my inspiration for this chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

taglist: @cherryblossombankai @seireiteihellbutterfly @kenpachisbrat @marikuchanxo

@harlekin6 @entirelysein-e @brokennerdalert

@sugurusprettygirl @hazzelle-kento @pixelcafe-network

Masterlist

The week that followed the disaster of that party, you decided to try and cry it all out. The memories were still so fresh in your mind. The look on his face; the betrayal and hatred for you. It hurt so goddamn much. You wondered if you’d ever be able to get out of this funk.

The promise of a summer vacation seemed nice, and possibly would be a bandage for the pain that was still seared deep into your heart. Knowing you’d have to come back to school at the end of the break didn’t seem very promising either. Knowing you’d have to face him again.

Your pride had been so wounded. He continued to act as if you didn’t mean anything to him, and you wondered every time you two crossed paths if you’d be able to face him like you once did. Kento seems to be perfectly content with not talking to you.

In fact, the rumors of him hating you have been spreading like wildfire. So your friends decide to spin it all around and make you see the positive in all of this.

“He was just one guy! You can meet all kinds of cute guys when you come out with us to the beach this summer!”

“Yeah! You’ll see, lots of fish in the sea!”

Still you were clinging to empty promises and tender wounds. By the end of the semester, you found yourself wanting to find the man who stole your heart and to tell him off. You wanted to scream in his face, punch him a few times and leave him discarded on the ground. Just as he had done to you, you would gladly do to him. You would find yourself feeling much better if you were able to feed him the same poison he had fed you.

Your mind kept thinking about all the fun you two had together during the school year. It wasn’t just hooking up and fooling around either; it was deeper than that. It was getting to know him, to know what made him tick, what made him laugh. Cracking the outer layers of the man who was Kento Nanami.

As much as you wanted to discard him and leave him be for the rest of eternity, you found yourself at an impasse. You were madly in love with him. You wanted to go all the way that night too. Everything had been hinging on him returning from getting those damn waters and him just fucking kissing you.

Since that night, you were dreaming of his lips on yours. You missed the way he made your stomach flip with just the sound of his voice. You longed for the all-nighters you two spent together. The sounds of the old N64 and the cursing from the AVGN videos playing in the background on your old and clunky laptop.

And while you suffered in silence, Kento was living his life as if you weren’t even a part of it at one point. You wondered if maybe he even cared that you were suffering. You wondered if he even thought of you. Given the way he doesn’t even look in your direction, you think you know the answer.

Behind those cruel hazel eyes, there was something else there that most people couldn’t see. Kento was wracking his mind with a way to get you back.

He was sure you hated him, so he didn’t even bother to try and talk to you since that night. But the days were counting down and soon you’d be gone for the summer vacation. Soon you’d be gone for a while and maybe when you came back you’d have a new man.

The thought of you kissing someone else pissed him off. It made him angry and jealous and fuck he was seeing green. Every time you wouldn’t even glance in his direction, his heart was breaking even more.

There was just nothing he could do to bring you back into his arms. He thought of every opportunity and every single action of kindness he could bestow upon you. And none of them could ever come close to show you just how terribly sorry he was.

It was killing him inside. It was tearing him apart completely. The thought of you leaving school and coming back with hickies on your neck, or wearing someone’s sweater, or even just having that look in your eyes from a new love, that would be the death of Kento.

Then the final day of school comes and everyone’s getting ready to leave for summer vacation. He’s been thinking about this day over and over. He keeps thinking about how he’s going to catch you right before you leave and tell you he’s sorry.

The words sound so good in his mind. They sound perfect. He can hear it all so clearly. So why does he feel like his tongue is overly tied and his brain is a fog when he approaches you near your friend’s car?

The giggling and talks of summer vacation stop when your friend notices him lurking nearby. Your eyes widen suddenly when you see Kento so close. The butterflies multiply a thousandfold when he comes up to you.

“K-Kento?” you ask, your voice trembling.

Your friends all move aside, making sure he’s not about to attack you or anything like that. They want to see that he’s here to make amends and not break your heart even further. Some of them even think maybe you two could remain friends.

“I…I need to talk to you,” his own voice doesn’t sound strong.

With a nod from your friends, you make your way over to him. They all lean against the car, ready to intervene if they need to. Then you turn your attention back to Kento.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Kento notices the way you cross your arms over your chest when you ask him this.

“I wanted to talk about what happened the other night.”

There was a beat of silence before you both looked at each other. You could see all the words he wanted to say in his eyes. He looks away bashfully before he fishes out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. He offers you one, but you decline. Then he brings the cigarette to his lips and lights it. You note that the smell is so comforting to you. 

“I was being such a shithead, alright? It was stupid of me. Those damn girls’ words had gotten to me.” He says between drags of the smoke.

You tilt your head to the side, “What girls?”

He looks away, and you’re starting to put the pieces together. Someone said something bad to him that night. Someone had made him feel like you weren’t completely in love with him. 

“Those damn girls we saw when we arrived. I guess they must have felt entitled to tell me that you were using me.”

Your heart feels broken. This was the cause of the rift between you two. The words of some dumb girl and her posse of bimbos. People who had no idea that you and Kento were more connected and bonded than most people are with their parents, their pets or even their good friends.

“Wait…you saw them? What the hell did they say to you?”

Kento shakes his head, “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter anymore. I just wanted to apologize to you. I was stupid to leave you like that.”

You wanted to reach out to him. To hug him. To kiss him. You were desperate to hold him against your body once more. You wanted to hear his voice whisper sweet nothings in your ear once again.

And all too soon, your friends were ushering you into the car. You wanted to run back to him, but they were telling you that they needed to get a move on. Then you hear those three words from his lips…

I love you.

The drive back to your hometown was awkward and quiet. All your friends felt bad for driving off without giving you a chance to answer Kento. He would be thinking about this moment for the rest of the summer and you wouldn't know how to deal with it.

His heart clenched as he watched you get into the car and he desperately called out to you. Saying those three words, they weren’t supposed to come out just yet. No, they were supposed to stay deep inside of him until the perfect moment came. If it ever came.

He was silently cursing himself for messing it all up. How would you ever want to talk to him again? You were probably telling your friends just how stupid all of this was. And with this, he leaves to go stay at his friend’s place for the summer.

The text message comes later. Then the phone call. He’s happy to see you messaging him. You ask him how he’s doing. It’s a few days after summer vacation started. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about leaving you hanging. My friends are jerks,” you say on the other line.

Kento is hanging out on his bed, his head feeling fuzzy from just hearing your voice. “Nah, don’t even worry about it.”

The two of you have so much to talk about. Neither of you mention the party nor do you mention what he said on the last day you saw each other. You two just spend time talking on the phone and enjoying one another.

And with each day, you two find even more conversations to have. Until one day you send him a picture. It’s a picture of you in bed, wearing just an oversized shirt. It makes his heart race and his cock hardens immediately. He finds the courage to call you up.

“Tell me what you’d want to do with me if I was there,” his voice sounds so husky like this.

You’re barely awake but you feel the need growing inside of you, “Kento…I want you to kiss me.”

Just hearing you wanting him to kiss you excites him even more. He’s fisting his cock, moaning into the receiver. You hear the slick sounds of his precum coating his cock. You let one of your hands dip down under your shirt and you begin to play with your aching clit.

“What else? Come on…talk to me.”

“Want you to kiss me, touch me…need your fingers in my pussy.”

This causes him to squeeze his cock to prevent himself from cumming too fast. This was going to have to be enough until you two saw each other again next semester.

“Yeah? You want me to lick that cute little pussy?” He doesn’t understand where he’s getting the courage to talk like this.

You whimper, “I wanna cum all over your tongue.”

This makes it even harder for him to slow down. You’re both working towards a similar goal, moaning and panting for one another. Kento growls softly.

“I’m gonna cum,”

You groan, “Me too.”

Tighter and tighter becomes the coil in your stomach. You see stars when you fall off the edge with a quiet call of his name. Kento is right behind you, biting his lip so he doesn’t yell too loud as he spills his cum all over his fist and his abdomen.

Both of you are panting as you catch your breath. Kento is the first to say something, coupled with a breathy chuckle.

“Hope that’ll keep you happy until we can see each other again.”

You smile, “I’ll be counting down the days.”

[destinationtrekk]

i notice (when you're not around)

He promised to always answer when you needed him, no matter what. Or, 5 times he answers your call, and one time you answer his.

2.3k, 5+1 things, mentioned/referenced sex, cursing, domestic fluff, jealousy, canon compliant, S.T.A.R.S reader, I just think Wesker would be the best husband

a/n: all my fics are cross posted to my ao3

-> masterlist

-> i notice (when you're not around) on ao3

One

“Wesker speaking.” 

He’s standing in the hallway, only half paying attention to his phone as he keeps an eye on the agents in the conference room. Chris and Barry sounded to be on the verge of snapping at each other, but he had promised to answer when you called. 

“Captain! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d actually answer.” 

He hums absently, narrowing his eyes into the room, before his attention snaps to you. “Are you crying?” 

You sniffle a few times and clear your throat. “I- no! No, I’m fine! It’s okay, listen I shouldn’t have called, you sound busy-” 

“I am, we’re debriefing with the Beta team. What do you need?” He doesn’t mean to sound harsh, you’re obviously upset, but he really can see Chris’ eyes about to bulge out of his head with every word Barry spits at him. 

“I- well, it’s really embarrassing, actually, but someone rear-ended me and they drove off, but I can’t get dispatch to answer because I think there’s something going on downtown-” 

He barks out your name, “Get to the point.” 

You suck in an audible breath and sniffle again. “My car is totaled, and I think I have a concussion.” 

Chris is now standing over the table, sneering at Barry while Jill and Rebecca hold both of them back. Wesker sighs heavily, and hangs his head. “Where are you? I’m leaving now.” 

Two

You’re sitting stiffly on his couch - the couch , you keep forgetting this is technically your home now too. He’s only been gone a week, but the dark woods and long driveway outside the house drive an eerie feeling straight through your stomach. Your phone is pressed tightly to your ear, the dial tone like a death bell over the speaker. 

“Wesker speaking.” 

You suck in a breath, suddenly at a loss for words. What had you even called for? 

He makes a sound like he’s checking the phone and grumbles. “I'm busy. What is it?” 

You snap out of whatever nervous trance you were in. “Sorry, it’s nothing, I just thought I heard something and I thought- it’s fine!” Your voice squeaks as you try to excuse why you really wanted to call. Somehow over the last year he's become a comfort to you, somewhere between being your suave mysterious Captain to stealing you away after the Arklay incident. He hadn’t left you alone longer than a day or two since then. Now, sitting alone in the middle of the night in his- your - dark, empty house, you just really needed to hear his voice. 

“Are you afraid of the dark?” He sounds smug, and you hear the crunch of snow and distant yelling. “Poor pet. You miss me, don’t you?” 

You scowl and blush. “Wha- no! When are you coming home?” 

He chuckles darkly and hums. He doesn’t speak for a moment, and you bite your lip as you sway in place, trying to channel your nerves. How do you ask for the terrorist who practically kidnapped you for reassurance? His voice has an unfamiliar note to it when he replies. “Shouldn’t be much longer. You know I can’t tell you more.” 

“Oh, yeah, right.” You swallow around the lump in your throat, voice sounding small. “I just… can’t sleep. I got used to you talking in your office, and now it’s… really quiet outside.” 

He’s quiet again, and you laugh awkwardly to fill the same silence that’s making you paranoid. “Sorry, that’s probably weird-” 

“Go lay down, pet. In my bed.” 

You freeze at his words, choking on a breath as he sighs. You had been in his room a total of once, only after you drunkenly kissed him and he put you to bed. You hadn’t talked about that night, but he had been…not affectionate, but certainly less distant since it happened. 

“I’m serious. I can talk for a few more minutes, but that’s it.” 

You quickly make your way to his room, crawling under his soft sheets and laying there stiffly. He must hear the rustle of the sheets and your tense breaths because he scoffs. “It’s just a bed, relax. Nothing is getting in there without me finding out.” 

You whisper a weak “Okay,” and listen as he begins to tell you about something simple he’s been doing in Antarctica, and you realize he’s definitely making up details to cover what’s really going on. You don’t mind though, and quickly begin to drift off to the gruff rumble of his voice. You’re nearly asleep when he says he has to go, but you swear you can hear one last thing before he hangs up, and the three quiet words sound suspiciously like what you had whispered to him, right before kissing him. 

You might be wrong though, but the sheets smell like him, and you finally sleep through the night. 

Three

“Hello, dearheart.” 

“Are you alone? Take me off speaker.” Your voice was dark, and you heard Albert’s sigh. You imagined him rolling his eyes the way he did when you made a joke he didn’t like. “I’m serious, Albert. This is important.” 

That caught his attention. You heard him speak low away from the phone, and then the click of a door shutting. “What’s wrong? Are you oka-” 

“You need to get rid of her. Right now.” You cut him off, gripping your phone so tight your fingers were starting to ache. “I mean it, if I so much as hear her voice -”

“What the hell are you on about?” He sounded nearly as pissed as you now, and you felt a spark of vindication in your chest. “I don’t have time to listen to you throw a tantrum because I can’t babysit you. I have work to do.” 

“Watch your mouth, Albert, I’m not the one letting an Italian nepo baby run her filthy hands all over me. I don’t give a shit what work you have to do, you should consider yourself lucky I haven’t gotten rid of her myself.” 

He was silent for a moment, and then his laugh rumbled through your speaker. “Fiesty today, are we, pet?” He paused, and sighed. Despite your anger, your lip twitched in amusement at the thought of him sliding his glasses up and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am… sorry, that she did that. But you know what’s at stake here, and that she is a key part of Tri-Cell-” 

You scoffed. “Yeah, Tri-Cell’s expansion, whatever. I don’t care. She can be a key part over a fucking Skype call for all I care, just keep. Her hands. Off of you.” You growled into the phone, white-knuckling the desk you were standing over. His desk, actually, where you had sneakily logged into his database and were watching his hacked security systems. You smirked to yourself at his bristling silence. He may be the evil mastermind, but he didn’t keep you around for nothing. 

“I’ll do what I can.” 

It was as good a promise as you would ever get from him, and you hummed flatly, your anger starting to dissipate. “Fine… please come home in one piece.” 

He huffed again, but sounded softer. “I will, sweet thing.” 

You let a smile slip out at his words. “I love you, Al.” 

“Stop going into my office when I’m gone.” 

The call clicked, and you set your phone on his desk. You looked back up to the monitors, seeing him enter the room with Excella and Jill again, but this time he pointedly waved her off as she approached. Your mouth twitched in a smirk. Albert may not be a sweet man, but he certainly knew when to listen. 

Four 

“I expected more of a challenge after all this time, Chris. How disappointing…” 

Before Wesker could sneer at Chris’ cheesy retort, his phone rang in his pocket. He immediately pulled it out, recognizing your ringtone like he would his own voice. “Yes?” 

“Hi, baby. You’re not busy, are you? The neighbors just did the absolute worst thing and I really wanted to-” Your voice was like honey to his ears, before you dropped the sweet tone and cut yourself off. “Is that Chris?” 

He dropped the phone to his side, smirking as Jill took the BSAA agents out with ease. He could hear your voice still jabbering from the speaker, no doubt confused and nosey about where he was. He ignored you a moment longer, sneering at Chris pinned to the floor beneath Jill as he taunted him. “...I’ll leave you two to catch up.” 

He quickly reactivated the P30 device on Jill, before he turned and entered the elevator, pointedly ignoring Chris’ obnoxious yelling. He finally raised his phone back to his ear, where, no surprise, you were still yapping. 

“-Anyway, that wasn’t really the point, but Greg said he thinks it’s my brake system, but I’m not having a problem with-” 

“It’s not your brakes, I just had those changed in December.” Wesker scowled, annoyed by stupid neighbor Greg’s complete incompetence. You stopped talking, and laughed breathily. “Oh, good you’re listening again. Was that Chris? You didn’t tell me this was an arch nemesis mission, you should’ve told him I said hi!” 

“He is not the point of this ‘mission’, my love. Merely an obstacle I have to kick aside, as usual.” 

You hummed knowingly, odd shuffling and tapping sounds coming though your end of the call. Wesker’s mouth twitched in a smile, you were probably making lunch right about now. 

“Did you fight him? I wish I could’ve seen, I bet you were doing that sexy hand thing agai-” 

“What are you yapping about now?” He growled, face quickly heating up. Only you had ever managed to make him blush like a teenager with your frankly vulgar mouth. 

“What? You know what I’m talking about, the thing where you start bending your fingers like you don’t know how to make a fist- it’s actually kind of cute, but you do something similar every time you’re fingerin-” 

He let out a choked breath, and hung up the call right as he heard your bright laugh. He struggled to will away his red cheeks before the elevator doors opened. God forbid Excella see him like this, he would never hear the end of it from either of you. 

Five

“Hngh- what is it?” 

You’re glaring at the soup aisle shelves when he answers, his voice gruff and raspy from sleep. Your mouth drops open and your eyes widen. Shit, you hadn’t even thought he might finally be asleep. “I’m sorry baby, were you napping? I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

He groans and the rustling of sheets crackle through the phone like static. “S’fine. What do you want?” 

You can’t blame him for sounding grumpy. You would too, after all, if you had been dragged half-burned-alive covered in black goo from a volcano less than a month ago. “I’m at the grocery store, what soup do you want? I know you usually like the stew but Uro made you sick when you had it the other day so I’m thinking maybe just broth?”

He grumbles, and you think he might actually be mad now. “I told you to quit calling it that, it isn’t a pet, it’s a damn virus.” 

You hum noncommittally. “Well, we’re kind of stuck with it forever, and it really does have a mind of its own. Do you want to try ramen instead? You said you liked the chicken when you had it that one time, but we don’t have to use the powder.” 

He’s silent on the other end, and you frown, calling his name worriedly. He groans and rustles the sheets again. He heaves a great sigh, and mumbles a quick “I want chicken noodle.” 

You smile widely, setting a few cans in the cart, and then grabbing a couple more just in case . He used to eat enough for a football team, and his appetite has slowly been coming back since he’s been home. “Gotcha. I should be home in about an hour, traffic was kind of bad on the way-” 

He’s snoring through the speaker, a deep rumble of air that he would absolutely blush and stammer and scowl about if you mentioned it. You just shake your head fondly and end the call. 

Maybe his stomach would be up for trying something sweet tonight, you’d better get a box of hot chocolate as well. 

Plus One

You’re surprised when your phone rings as you crawl into the hotel bed, the sheets stiff but soft, and also freezing . You’re tempted not to answer it, but you can’t stop yourself. 

“You know we aren’t supposed to see each other before the wedding, Al.” 

He doesn’t talk, but you can hear the wet slide of his hand as he strokes himself. He’s panting, soft puffs of air. “We aren’t seeing each other- ah, we’re on the phone.” 

You smirk, and begin to pass your hand down your chest, feeling the blush heating up your skin. “Wes’... you’re gonna give us bad luck.” 

He groans weakly, the slick sounds picking up. “C’mon, baby, just a few minutes- I won’t even touch you, I just-” he gasps, and you adore the way he sounds utterly broken fucking his own hand. You hum, pretending to consider it for a moment. 

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t think you should finish at all, actually.” You can’t help the teasing lilt of your voice, or the way your stomach drops when he moans again.

“Sweetheart, if you don’t get over here, now-” 

“Goodnight, Albert.” You murmur breathlessly, making sure he hears the wet drag of your fingers between your legs, and at his choked groan you hang up the call. Just a few more hours , you think as you bring yourself over the edge at the memory of his wide, calloused palms. He’ll be mine.

[kingkat12]

long legs (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: mentions of sex, foul language, roman is an ass as always

summary: you should've known better before you started dating the CEO of Godfrey Industries-- obviously.

word count: 3,335 PART 2: here!

Have you ever felt like you're stuck in an eternal revolving door, and then suddenly you're standing still? That was my life right now; I was standing still with Roman. We had only gone out on a few dates, sure— but I couldn't help but feel that something was different this time. This was a guy I felt like I could finally settle with. Four hour long conversations could feel like fifteen minutes, and the fact that he was the CEO of his own company also added on as a bonus; my life with him would be a life of comfort. Amazing sex and comfort.

I let out a satisfied sigh as my friends and I finally got up from our dinner table; dinner was good, life was good, my relationship was good. What was there not to like? We continued exchanging jokes at the expense of some girl we suddenly remembered from high school, reminiscing, and I had to take a step back; I couldn't believe how amazing my life was at the moment.

As I felt one of my friends nudge me, I blushed, letting out a nervous laugh as I realized I had disconnected from the previous conversation. "Sorry, girls, I've just been so swept up with Roman—"

"Yeah, we know," One of my girlfriends grabbed my shoulders, spinning me around so that I was facing the other end of the restaurant. "But isn't that him?"

They were right; at the other end of the restaurant, sat Roman. With a woman with legs for days. Laughing. I froze, not knowing what to say or do— he hadn't noticed me yet and was probably not going to, by the rate he was checking out the woman in front of him. 

"Come on, let's go," said another friend, taking my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "He's not worth it, really."

I hated the pity in her voice. I hated everything about this. But me being me, I knew I had to either let it slide or retaliate— and obviously, I'd choose the latter.

I got out of my friend's grip, making my way over to his table with confident strides, shaking off the shock in my system. I watched as Roman's green, charming eyes suddenly found me, rounding out. It was clear that he was trying to save face as he suddenly broke out into a slight chuckle, looking rather intrigued as I approached.

I smiled politely, now standing in front of him. "Roman, what a surprise!" I did my best to sound as casual possible and not like my heart was being kicked and spat at. 

"Surprise indeed!" he said, smiling right back up at me with no shame. "This is Cynthia, by the way." 

Had we not been in public, I would've hit his head with my purse. Instead, being the calm and collected woman I masked myself to be for now, I turned to Cynthia, shaking her hand as we got introduced. I wanted nothing more than to run away and wash my hands. 

With a cool demeanour, I turned to Roman; "Could we talk?"

He cleared his throat, clearly not too happy about the interruption. "Sure," he mumbled, sending Cynthia a charming smile as he got up, following me a few steps away from the table.

"What's this?" I said, letting my smile fall just a smidge. "A date?"

Roman cocked his head to the side, scanning me. "Sure is,"

"... You said you had a business thing,"

"A dinner thing,"

"Oh, is that right?" I took a proper look at him; suited up, hair styled back, smelling like his usual date-cologne. Had this been any other instance, I would've jumped him already. However, there was nothing I wanted more than to smack him and run away crying. "So how many women are you dating, exactly?"

Roman shrugged; "In the tristate area?"

My jaw fell, shocked. I knew we weren't exclusive and I tried to remind myself of that, but I had my pride to protect. If I would date anyone else right now, it would feel like stuffing an already packed luggage— I didn't want to, nor could I. So how could he?

Roman sighed, glancing back at his date before turning back to me, putting a patronizing hand on my shoulder; "Look, I'm a little busy, but I'll give you a call. Alright?"

Angered, I smacked his hand off of me. I refused to be treated this way. "Call all you want, but don't expect an answer. Good night, Roman," I took a sharp turn on my heel, my eye twitching as I held back the urge to burst into tears. 

As I reached my friends again, I was immediately embraced as we left the restaurant together. 

"He looked shellshocked, my God!" one of them said. "What did you tell him?"

I sniffled; "Not to call me anymore. I'm not going to deal with this bullshit,"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

My phone had rung about seventeen times and I was itching to answer. I laid in my bed that same night, a small tear rolling down my cheek; why did I always do this to myself? Why did I get so swept up in every man I met? I tried to make myself feel better by concluding I wasn't like this with every man— Roman was an exception. Roman was different.

But Roman was also an ass.

I groaned, watching another call come in. I had enough of this. Deciding to take action, I finally answered his eighteenth call; "Roman, I am only answering to tell you to stop calling!—"

"Just hear me out!" he said. "Just... Just hear me out, okay? Could you do that for me?" 

Groaning, I buried my face in my pillow, going quiet as I put my phone on speaker next to me. 

My silence told him everything he needed. "Look, I didn't know you thought we were exclusive. I should've gotten that cleared up, perhaps—"

"I thought that was obvious," I grumbled into my pillow.

A sigh; "Maybe it was. And maybe I'm just about the biggest jerk in Pennsylvania. Anyway, I'm calling to say sorry. I really thought you were dating other people as well,"

I lifted my head up from the pillow. "And that wouldn't bother you?" I pondered out loud. "If I went out with someone else?"

This is where Roman went quiet. "Well, it's not the most pleasant thought... I suppose I've dulled it down by seeing other people,"

Somehow, I didn't buy it. "Did you sleep with them?"

"Who?"

"All the women with stupidly long legs in the tristate area,"

I heard a loud sigh on the other end; "I thought you were sleeping with others too,"

"Yeah, right," I sat up in my bed, taking the phone off speaker mode and pressing it up against my ear. "This is not how I roll, Roman, and you know this. If you need loose girls to sleep with, have your pick at anyone else, I don't care. I was dead serious about you, about us, and you just... Yeah, screw you. Have a nice life."

I heard him protest as I finally ended the call, burying my face back into my pillow, muffling a scream. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next night, I had decided to go out and bury my mind in whatever cheap alcohol I could find. I stepped away from my friends at the party, making my way back to the bar for the third time tonight, not dull enough for my liking yet. 

Sighing, I sat down at the bar, ordering the usual. I hoped that the next drink would drown out all thoughts of Roman Godfrey, his green eyes, the image of him between my legs, and the image of Cynthia and her legs. I should've listened to my friends when they said he only dated models— why had he even looked at me in the first place, bothered me by entering my life and just existed in my vicinity? 

Asshole.

As I finally got my drink, bringing it up to my lips, the man next to me spoke up; "I don't think you should have another one of those,"

Turning to face him, I wondered where I had seen him before. "... Peter?"

I remembered Peter from the time we interned at the law firm together. He quit a while ago, but not before he had managed to kiss the life out of me in the elevator that one evening. A bright smile spread across my face as I put my drink down, embracing him. "Oh, Peter, it's so nice to see you!"

Peter, dressed in black as usual, beamed right back at me, his hand resting on my back. "I've been wondering if it was you all night," he said, pulling away from the hug with a chuckle. "You look good."

I did a little twirl, giggling— maybe the alcohol was finally getting to me, after all. "You think?"

Amused, Peter nodded; "As always,"

I sat down on my chair with a satisfied sigh. "I can't believe you're back in Pennsylvania," I said, taking a sip of my drink. "What brings you back?"

"Nothing special, really," Peter gave me a look, but didn't say anything about the fact that I was continuing to drink. "Just nice to take a trip back home. To see a familiar face in the crowd. You'll get it once you get out of here, yourself." 

I shook my head; "I'm not moving,"

"Why not?"

"I don't know," I used to have a good reason before I caught Roman with Ms. Long Legs. "I'm doing good at the firm. And guys here are prettier than in any other state I've been in."

Peter chuckled, rolling his eyes; "I see you're still single,"

His words made my heart sink. "It seems I am," I took a rather big sip of my drink, hating that I was right back to square one again. "I thought I'd be in a different place by now, I suppose. I don't get what I'm doing wrong."

Peter moved closer, giving me a sigh of empathy. "You always go for the bad guys," he mumbled. "The unavailable ones. Am I right, or was this only when you were an intern?"

Embarrassed, I nodded; "I guess," 

Peter watched as I took another sip of my drink, finally getting enough of it; he put his hand over mine, gently forcing the drink back down on the table, his hand lingering on top of mine. "I'm a nice guy,"

My eyes widened, finally meeting his gaze. Was this going the way I thought this was going? I watched his pupils expand, the brown in his eyes shimmering with hope. "Give me a chance," Peter said. "Us. The chance we should've had all those years ago."

I held my breath-- I wanted to give in, relent.

"Come to my place tonight," he continued, his thumb stroking over my knuckles. "Let me treat you right, for once."

I was so close to giving in, saying yes and settling for something good for my soul. However, my heart was screaming— I couldn't do this while I was still crazy about Roman fucking Godfrey, the biggest asshole on the planet. The asshole who got me flowers before every date, brought me coffee to my work when he was free, gave me the best orgasm I had ever had in my life in the back of a cab, and bought me a fucking Birkin when he went to Venice. 

"I—" I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe. This was Peter; I didn't want to hurt the sweetest guy I had ever known. Before I could give him an answer, I needed an answer for myself; "Hold that thought, Peter, I'll be right back."

I got up, making my way to the outskirts of the party with hurried steps. Finally drunk enough for this stunt, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, dialling the guy I had sworn to myself I would never call again; "Roman?"

I didn't have to see him to know he was smirking. "Hey you,"

Beaming at the sound of his voice, I felt the hurt in my soul being mended by the second. I had craved this all day, every minute, every second. However, I knew I had to pull myself together. "I'm just calling to let you know I'm going home with someone else tonight,"

"... Are you drunk?"

I huffed, offended despite the correct guess. "Am not!" 

"So this loud music is just something you play in your room at three in the morning?"

I had to do everything in my power to not hit myself. "I'm calling to say that you screwed up,"

A sigh; "Where are you?"

Grimacing, I wondered why he wanted that information. There was no way in hell I'd give it to him, anyways. "His name is Peter. He's super sweet, we used to work together, and he doesn't need me to have long, model legs,"

"... I like your legs,"

I rolled my eyes; of course he'd say that. 

"Quite frankly, I miss your legs... dearly,"

Doing my best to not become a puddle of mush on the floor, I had to shake my head to come to my senses. "Well, good luck missing them, because they'll never be anywhere near you again!"

Roman got silent at the end of the phone, clearly moving around wherever he was at the moment. "I'm coming. Where are you?"

I glanced back at the party, scanning my surrounding. To be frank, I wasn't so sure. "Somewhere near Clifford Park," My eyes widened-- had I just blurted that out?

"Clifford Park," he echoed. I heard the jangling of keys and the shuffling of what I could only deduct were jackets. "Meet me at the front gate."

"No, I'm leaving with Peter," I said, sticking to my plan despite how hard my heart was beating at the thought of Roman racing to meet me.

"Yeah, sure you are," I heard a door close on the other end. "Fifteen minutes. Be there."

Realizing he had ended the call, I did a small jump of glee before pulling myself together. It suddenly dawned on me what I had roped myself into.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

It hit me that I was in Clifford Park at half past four in the morning. Having waited nearly half an hour, leaving the party behind, I started feeling more and more like a fool. Why had I agreed to this? Peter was definitely right; I always went for the wrong guys.

I was about to leave and get a cab until I saw a familiar silhouette in a long, dark coat nearing me. 

"This is not the front gate," Roman said, walking towards me like he didn't have a care in the world, hands tucked into his pockets. His voice had a hint of frustration, which only made me further upset.

"It is!" I said, wrapping myself further up in my jacket. "This is the front gate!"

"No, this is the back,"

"It isn't!" I let out a big huff, my eyes narrowing as he finally caught up to me, his face illuminated by the lamp we were standing under. The hues of orange and black complimented him, the green in his eyes practically sparkling. 

Despite being breathless by the sight of him, my angered pride simmered in my chest; "I have been waiting for you for half an hour,"

Roman let out a groan, clearly frustrated as well; "I came about fifteen minutes ago, spent ten minutes waiting for you at the front gate, and then finally came all the way around here after having an unexpected jog in hopes of not finding you killed on the curb,"

Taken aback, I shut down the upcoming trail of curses. He had... worried about me? "Why are you here?" I finally asked. "Why did you come?"

Roman ran his fingers through his hair as he sighed. I was pleasantly surprised to see him like this— hair not styled, dressed in casual wear, lips parted as he tried to find the right words. "There's been a big misunderstanding,"

"Clearly,"

Roman nodded to himself, his gaze falling down to his feet. "I thought this was casual,"

This was not what I wanted to hear. Still a little drunk, I started to turn around, ready to walk away from him. I didn't have the energy to waste any more time on him than I already had. 

However, Roman simply followed; "And where do you think you're going in those heels?"

"Anywhere," I mumbled. "I don't want to hear this again."

"You're not even going to hear me out?" he said, a hint of a whine in his voice. "After I came to see you at half past four in the morning in a random park? How often do you think I do this, huh?"

I stopped, feeling my feet ache from the heels. He had a point. I turned around with a hardened gaze, meeting his, my heart beating hard in my chest. 

Roman took my silence as a means for him to speak; "Look, I'll come clean. I've been going out with others, sleeping with others, and I've been doing it to dull down the ache I get when I think of you doing the same,"

I blinked twice. "That doesn't make any sense,"

"Yeah... maybe it doesn't," Roman sighed, biting the inside of his cheek. "I'm just used to the girls I'm dating still... dating others, I suppose. I couldn't even bring myself to think you'd be different about it, I just thought that this was how the world worked. Like, imagine I ask for exclusivity and you just... run?"

"I wouldn't run," I took in his every word, not meeting his eyes anymore. I couldn't look at him when he looked so pretty. "I thought I was clear that you were the only one for me.”

There was a twinge of hurt on display in Roman's eyes; "I thought that was just something you told everyone..."

Sighing, I couldn't believe the conversation we were having. How was it possible for such a successful man to be so unsuccessful in his deductions? "And the flowers? Is that also something you give everyone?"

"No,"

"Who else did you bring coffee to while they were at work?"

"No one,"

I finally looked back up at him, my pulse rising as a sliver of hope returned to my body. Why should I believe him? God, how I wanted to.

Roman took a step towards me; "You think my position at my company allows me to run coffee errands everywhere?"

I shrugged— I had no idea.

"You think it's easy to get a Birkin, let alone multiple?"

Embarrassed, I looked away again. I didn't need him to know how little I knew about Birkins. 

Roman sighed, running his hand through his soft, brown hair once more. "I've been driving myself crazy about you, y'know? Have you ever had the feeling that you've been... Fuck, I don't know how to properly explain, but like... have you ever felt like you're in an eternal revolving door and then suddenly you're standing still?"

My head turned to him as though I had heard a gunshot. "I have,"

Roman put his hands back in his pockets, chewing his lip. It was clear that he was anxious— I hadn't seen him like this before. Ever. "I'm so tired of running. I'm so tired of others. I just... want to stand still. With you,"

I bit down my growing smile. This was all I had ever wanted to hear. "Even when it's half past four and the standing takes place at Clifford Park?"

Roman let out a slight chuckle; "Especially when it's in Clifford Park,"

"The best place in the world," I said, feeling remnants of happy tears start to poke through my exterior. "Definitely not the third most dangerous park in the state."

"Yeah, fuck," Roman broke out into a smile, his laugh being pure music to my ears. "Let's stand still somewhere else. What do you say about standing still outside the coffee shop until it opens?"

Suddenly, I didn't feel so doomed anymore. I didn't need to start from square one again-- this was it. We both knew it now. "Sounds good,"

Roman hummed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we started our stride. He leaned down to press a kiss against the top of my head; "I missed you. I don't ever want to miss you again,"

link to part two here<3

[targaryenluvs]

I absolutely love how you write!! Now I've got this under my skin: basically the President Coriolanus and maid dynamic. The servant has this behavior in which she avoids crossing paths with Coriolanus at all costs but he already has her in his sights.

coriolanus snow x fem!maid!reader

mr president

tw: mdni 18+ (m masturbation, jerked off, implied sex in, power abuse, humiliation kink, guilt trip, cheating, degradation, naive reader, implied short reader)

coriolanus had been watching you all day. you knew it. he knew it, and he didn’t care. you’d always been taught to put your head down, go unnoticed, to just work. but it seems president snow had other ideas to how you could be of service to him, preferably with your legs wide open.

but this week felt different. you were use to his stares, they always seemed to linger even once he was long gone. but lately they set your body on fire, consuming you. you could barely look at him when he asked you to fetch a glass of water, when he requested for another seat at the table to be set tonight, and so on.

he loved to embarrass you with the most ridiculous and tedious jobs. but at first they’d been mild in want, for you to feed him, for you to clean his shoes and tie them, pick any lint off of his coat. but as his desire for you increased so did the humiliating nature of them. to clean the floor in your uniform which he knew you’d ripped that morning on a sharp thorn, to pick up the utensils he’d dropped, when he’d requested fresh new sheets after he’d soiled them himself. watching intently as your hands bunched up the sheets, cradling them in your arms as your cute little face scrunched up in horror as his cum coated your hands.

he loved you.

and you had no idea as to why. you never drew attention to yourself and certainly not enough to warrant his. yet coriolanus was hellbent on having you.

when you were awoken by one of maids in the middle of the night you’d expected something different, maybe one of the girls needed help in cleaning. but when she told you of president snow asking for you specifically for help with something, you could only help but be scared. you didn’t want to go help him with whatever. you didn’t want to be within arms reach of him let alone his own quarters. his wife was away on a business trip that week, leaving him with free time to torment you.

but you went nonetheless, who were you to refuse your dear president?

the entire walk to his quarters had you reassuring yourself, he’ll want you to bring him something. ‘water perhaps, then he’ll let you go. he’ll let you go y/n.’ you approached his door, raising your hand before knocking but a voice stopped you in your tracks. was it a cry? a groan? you leaned into the door, ear pressed against the cold wood, listening for a hint of what was occurring.

‘fuck,’ he groaned out, ‘so good, fuck s’ so good.’ that must be some really good soup! you thought as you smiled, you’d made his soup today and he said he’d eat it later on that night. ‘fuck y/n.’ now you weren’t arrogant, it may have been your soup but you didn’t name it after yourself. you should correct him.

‘mr president?’ your sweet voice called out, your voice went straight to his throbbing cock. ‘c-come in.’ you smiled to yourself as you opened the door only to be with president snow on his bed, hand wrapped around the base of his cock, completely naked with a smirk on his face. definitely not eating soup, you thought. ‘close the door, now.’ you did exactly that, what would someone say if they found the president so indecent? you should protect his image.

‘sit down.’ you crept over to him before hoisting yourself up, your small frame dwarfed by the overly-large bed. meant for two. his wife! you instantly covered your eyes like a child who’d seen something they just weren’t meant to. ‘i’m so sorry president snow, i didn’t mean to look. i’ll leave.’ you rambled as you slowly wriggled away, but not before his hand landed on your thigh. ‘i didn’t call you in here for you to leave right after.’ his hand rubbed into your thigh, soft and gentle, everything he wasn’t. it drew a soft moan from your lips, snows smug expression was evident, only if you’d just open your eyes.

your hands slowly peeled away from your face as you gazed into his eyes, ‘i saw you looking before, you liked it didn’t you slut?” for some reason the word made you blush as you looked down at your lap, his hand was playing with the hem of your night dress. ‘no mr snow.’ you bashfully replied, his hand worked its way up underneath your dress, the other preoccupied with his dick.

‘no? am i not pretty?’ you eyes widened at the implication, president coriolanus snow, ugly? he was anything but, ‘no! i- i mean yes, yes you are pretty, very pretty mr president.’ he grinned at your words, ‘yeah? you wanna prove it to me? you’d do anything for your president right?’ you nodded along quickly, not before gasping as his hand now played with the waistband of your underwear.

‘i want you to suck me off.’

‘suck what?’ his eyes trailed downwards.

‘oh! oh.’

the sentence sent your head into a spin, were you really going to do this? but his sweet voice, so soft and hushed, his body illuminated by the gentle orange glow of his lamp, his hooded eyes, so sleepy. it all coaxed you in as he led your hand to where he needed.

another quiet groan escaped coriolanus’s lips as your thumb rubbed over the tip of his cock. he was already close but just your presence, along with your hand had him tipping over the edge. your slow tugs, unsure and trying, your timid voice, ‘am i helping you sir?’ sir, the clear line distinguished the two of you in place. ‘yes, yes you are y/n. call me by my name.’ and soon enough he reached his peek, sticky release all over your tiny hands.

he was sure the picture would be ingrained in his head, you’d lifted your hands as you simply stared at them, then looking up at coriolanus.

‘what do i do?’

‘swallow.’

[kitasgloves]

You're an Inarizaki graduate in a relationship with the SAKUSA KIYOOMI. You were close with the Miya bros, especially Atsumu, and friends with the entire Inarizaki volleyball club. You already had a longtime crush on Sakusa when you watched the practice match between Inarizaki and Itachiyama. You were forever grateful that Atsumu forced you to watch game because you wouldn't be able to have seen Sakusa.

You're working as PR in the MSBY Black Jackals and got reunited with Atsumu (unfortunately). He knows your big fat crush on Sakusa and tries to be your wingman. His plan? He gets you drunk in a party and forces you in a room alone with Sakusa. He claimed it would give you the enough courage to confess.

You confessed but you couldn't remember what Sakusa's reaction was. It ended up with Sakusa taking you to his place because you're incredibly drunk and unable to get home on your own. You woke up to the worst hungover since college and a shirtless Sakusa making breakfast calling you 'darling'.

The rest is history. You and Sakusa have been together for more than two years. Although you two seemed like the ideal couple, there has been frequent verbal fights lately. It mostly had something to do with conflicting schedules and a lot of dates cancelled. Sakusa was a busy athlete and your job as the PR didn't mix well with his hectic schedule.

"This is the fifth time that I have to cancel reservation, Omi!"

"Then just stop making reservations! You know how busy I am so don't get mad that I couldn't make up to our date!"

"You could've at least made an effort to! Or say sorry!"

"We've gone through this over and over again [Name] and I'm getting sick of it"

"So, what? You're sick of me?"

"Maybe I am!"

This argument was different from the previous. You were left stunned as Sakusa breathlessly glared at you, shattering your heart into smithereens. Immediately, your eyes felt wet as you turned around, grabbed your keys, phone, and wallet and stormed out of the apartment. You completely missed the sheer regret that erupted on Sakusa's face.

You called up Atsumu and asked to meet up at Onigiri Miya. When you arrived there and saw the blonde setter, you quickly went in for a hug and sobbed your poor heart out. Atsumu knew you had another fight with your boyfriend since you've been telling him about it for the past few days. It seemed like today, a line was crossed.

Sakusa tried reaching your phone but you have put your phone in airplane mode. Osamu kindly made you your favorite onigiri as you told them about the fight. Of course, the twins took over your side because they've known you for a very long time. You stayed over at Osamu's and had a sleepover with the Miya twins.

The next day, Sakusa was driving all the way to Osamu's place. He has found your whereabouts through his cousin Komori who he got from his teammate, Suna Rintaro. He sucked in a breath and knocked on the door. What he was not expecting was a very serious-faced Atsumu Miya answering the door.

"The hell are ya doin' here?"

"I need to pick up my girlfriend"

"She doesn't wanna be with ya right now"

"That's none of your business, Miya"

Atsumu gives Sakusa a humorless laugh and gives him the most intimidating glare that Sakusa has ever seen from him. Usually, the blonde setter is all smirks and smiles but seeing this death glare from him actually made Sakusa physically shiver.

"Ya made her cry all the way over here sayin' that yer sick of her! Do ya have any idea of the amount of effort she puts in scheduling a dinner fer the both of ya 'cuz she misses ya so much?"

Sakusa was officially speechless as he gulped. He rigidly stands there and gets his well-deserved scolding from Atsumu Miya of all people.

"[Name] means a lot to me 'cuz she's like a sister so if I ever catch her cry 'cuz of you again, I will personally beat yer ass then skin ya alive and give ya some bonus ass whoopin' from Osamu and the entire Inarizaki alumni"

Atsumu warned him. And Sakusa makes sure to keep that in mind. The blonde sighs and finally takes a step aside from the door.

"Go apologize to her and make up, Omi-kun"

Sakusa doesn't need to be told twice as he rushed inside the apartment, not bothering to take off his shoes and pounced at you in the kitchen. You just woke up but you were pleasantly surprised with your boyfriend profusely apologizing to you.

Osamu places a hand on his hip and looked at his twin. Atsumu was smiling as if he didn't just threatened Sakusa earlier.

"What did ya tell him?"

"Oh nothing, just gave him a little warnin' that's all"

Osamu knows Atsumu is a lying piece of shit.

[demonpiratehuntress]

How the Straw Hats React to Your Period

Includes: OPLA!Zoro, OPLA!Sanji, OPLA!Luffy, OPLA!Usopp, f!reader

A/N: I actually have a one-shot written of Zoro's reaction to your period, which I'll post after this. But I hope you enjoy reading this :)

ZORO

"NO! NO! (NAME) I'M SORRY!"

Luffy's loud scream was what woke the swordsman from his nap today, one of his eyes shooting open to see what the fuss was about. Luffy zipped across the deck in front of him, holding onto his hat for dear life as you chased him around with a kitchen knife, curses and threats spewing past your lips.

"Luffy! Get back here!"

Zoro looked at Nami and Sanji, who were watching the scene while trying to stifle giggles. Usopp was behind Sanji, visibly shaking. The swordsman turned his gaze back to you and Luffy, where you were handling the captain by the collar of his vest. Before you could do anything to him, however, Zoro grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

"What now-" You turned, your eyes widening when you saw your boyfriend. "Zoro-"

"Why are you trying to kill our captain?" He asked, then paused. "Okay let me rephrase. Why do you have a knife?"

You suddenly burst into tears, and for the first time since Kaya's mansion, Zoro jumped in fright and alarm. It didn't take long for your face to be a mess of tears, and you were babbling something he couldn't hear through your sobs.

"Calm down," he let go of your wrist and gently took the knife away from you, handing it to Luffy before feeling you suddenly smack his arm. "What was that for?"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" You yelled, still crying but now very irritated. "He ate my food!"

"So?"

"So Sanji made it especially for me!" You whined. "He knows what I like on my period!"

At the mention of Sanji, Zoro growled and lifted you up, tossing you over his shoulders, "I also know what you like."

Minutes later, you were laying on his chest in his hammock, after he had brought you some more food and something to drink. He was lazily rubbing over your uterus, which he had learned - after three of your periods - calmed you down. You were content for now, eating an insane amount of food and cuddling your boyfriend, but he couldn't deny that he was a little afraid of you during these times. Still, he did his best to make sure you were okay, knowing how badly you cramped and how much pain your body was in during these days. Whatever you asked of him, he did without complaint.

SANJI

No one had seen you for hours now. That usually wouldn't be a problem, if it wasn't the middle of the day and if you didn't usually spend this time learning how to fish from Sanji. Everyone except Nami seemed to be confused, but she wouldn't tell anyone what was going on, too busy reading her charts. So your boyfriend decided to check for himself, regretting not coming sooner when he saw what state you were in.

"My love, what's wrong?"

The cook was by your side in an instant, his ears now picking up on the soft groans and whimpers you were letting out. You were clearly in pain, but you didn't want to lift your head up to tell him why. He had to gently remove the blanket from your face, and cup your cheek in his hand.

"What can I do to make it better?"

"Food," you mumbled, before groaning again and burying your face in his thigh. "And you."

That didn't really make any sense, but it didn't matter to Sanji. He didn't want to leave you alone while you were in pain, so he quickly brought a cloth he had doused in hot water and laid it over your uterus, knowing heat would help the pain. Then he kissed your forehead and promised the food would come soon, before rushing off to make your favourite.

"Where's (Name)?" Luffy asked Sanji, coming into the kitchen. "Haven't seen her all day."

"She's resting," the cook answered, before slapping the captain's hand away from the food. "That's for her."

Luffy was about to protest, but then he turned and went down to your room to check on you. Sanji would have warned him, but he was already gone before he could.

What came next was a loud bang and a the unmistakable sound of someone hitting the wooden walls of the ship. Followed by a dazed groan. Sanji tried not to laugh as Luffy came stumbling back into the kitchen, his eyes wide.

"What did you do?"

"I poked her cheeks until she told me what was wrong."

"Did she tell you?"

"No, but she punched me."

Sanji did laugh then, watching Luffy go back out to bother someone else - probably Zoro - as he gathered up the plate and hot drink he had prepared for you and went back to your room. He set the food and drink down, slipped into the bed next to you, and brought you close as he fed you the food and kept the heated cloth in place over your uterus. He was aware of how painful these few days were for you, so he tried his best to make it at least a little easier. And he always did.

LUFFY

THE MOST OBLIVIOUS MAN TO EVER LIVE. This guy has no idea what's in store for him, and he has no idea how to deal with it either. He can't help his annoying nature, but when you get your period he tries his best to shut up sometimes. Sometimes. He can't keep up with your mood swings, and even less with your cramps, but he tries. The poor guy. You always feel so bad after your periods, knowing you yelled at him for no reason or snapped unwillingly when he's never ever raised his voice at you or argued.

"(Name)!" Luffy whined. "That was mine!"

You had just swiped something off his lunch plate - something he did way more often to you - when those words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. He had - once again - forgotten what time of the month it was. He was reminded when your eyes glossed over with tears, and your bottom lip trembled. Everyone else flinched as you started crying, getting up to run off to somewhere else.

"Luffy!" Nami smacked the back of his head.

"Idiot," Zoro grumbled, face-palming.

Luffy looked confused, wondering why everyone was telling him off. Only when Usopp nudged him in the direction you ran off did he get it. He was slow, but he always understood - eventually. He got up to follow you, finding you curled up in the crow's nest, shaking and crying into your knees.

"Hey, (Name)," he sat down next to you. "I'm sorry."

"You're an idiot, you know," you grumbled, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.

He laughed, and you frowned, before he suddenly pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around you. He extended them so they encased you like a cocoon, having heard from Nami that keeping you warm might help with the pain. But also, he knew how much you loved it when he cuddled you like this. All your pain and anger faded away, and the tears stopped as your body completely relaxed in his embrace. You felt yourself nodding off, and pretty soon you were fast asleep, head tilted onto your boyfriend's shoulder. He smiled. He was lucky that you were so patient with him. Because it took him a while, but he would always make sure you were okay during these few unbearable days.

USOPP

This poor, poor boy. Having been around Kaya for most of his life, he wasn't new to what periods were. However, you were not like Kaya. You were aggressive, you were angry, you were violent, and it terrified him to his core. He knew you didn't mean to be, but your fluctuating hormones made you so moody and grumpy that he was almost tempted to hide from you for those few days. But he knew you needed him. So he did what he does best, he told you funny, made-up stories to make you laugh.

They...had the opposite effect.

He was alarmed when you started crying halfway through his infamous goldfish story, instantly reaching out to take your hand, "(Name), what's wrong? Does it hurt? I can go get something-"

"Why did you punch the goldfish?" You sniffled, looking up him with teary eyes.

He was taken aback by your question, his jaw dropping. No one ever asked that, and he was wondering why you were worried about the goldfish when he claimed it was attacking him.

"Why-"

"It was an innocent animal!" You whined, smacking his arm suddenly and then crying even more. "It didn't do anything!"

Usopp stuttered and stammered and tried to defend himself, but you were so concerned about the fish you didn't want to hear it. Shaking his head with a sigh, he just slipped into the bed next to you and brought you against his chest, kissing the top of your head. You were very very emotional, but he was learning how to appropriately handle it. And you appreciated that he was trying his best to make you smile. He made your periods bearable.