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#thank you for your constructive ask anon
berlingotesque · 3 months
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People are gonna be fighting over your Sammy soon and I will be one of those people
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This is getting out of hand.
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numetalpuppygirl · 2 years
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you can draw
big if true
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pagesofkenna · 7 months
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✄?
✄ what’s your editing process?
it kinda depends on what I'm writing (silly fluffy fun thing, or work I'm really passionate about, for example) but usually it's a matter of rereading and rereading until the knot of communication anxiety in my chest (that feeling that I'm not saying what I mean to say well) turns into a knot of 'excited-to-share'
so some examples:
2019's fic, Bus Ride (Good Omens, 1.3k), was a prompted story, and the scene suggestion was very cute so I wanted to explore it a bit but there wasn't any specific emotion or message I was trying to get across. I came up with a short outline, wrote a draft, reread it maybe two or three times looking for grammatical errors and sentences that could be written better, and then published it
2021's fic, Metal Flowers (6crows, 5.1k), was a very specific concept that I wanted to explore and make feel as canon compliant as possible (in tone and in writing style). I vividly remember an entire week I spent doing little else than work on this; I was adjusting the outline even as I was writing the scenes, rereading chunks of the book alongside my own drafts to compare. I had a list of images, comparisons, and metaphors I wanted to make, and an outline for the arc of the background heist, and I rewrote sections to improve the flow daily. When I finally got everything as in-place as I liked, I think I spent two days just re-reading and re-reading, looking for typos and awkward phrasing (and I still missed some! lol), before I finally got that feeling of 'i've done this justice'
2022's fic, Blunted Like a Practice Sword (Homestuck, 4.8k), was literally a stream-of-consciousness, 'lol-what-if-this-happened' scene that turned into attempt at exploring a very specific emotion (and which I was and remain fairly nervous and embarrassed about sharing lol). I drafted it basically all in one go, and all my editing was focused on nailing the character's voice without making him sound too obnoxious (though I didn't reread the source material for this, lol). I wanted the cadence of the writing itself to feel like racing, chaotic thoughts, so there's a ton of run-on sentences, and as I was rereading I was mostly looking for unclear sections/parts where the thoughts jump too quickly
and as you can see, these are all fairly 'short' fics! I tend not to write longer things because my favorite part of the writing process is the rewritting, and trying to do that for a longer story gets tedious? and I can't put as much thought into each paragraph as I can for a shorter story, so edits just focus on grammar/syntax
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dante-mightdie · 19 days
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if perv!simon and bluecollar!simon converged and created a little freak of a man who gets off at work every time the construction managers daughter stops by with coffee for all the guys. it's 7 in the morning and he's delirious but he's never seen something so perfect as *her*.
come over here so I can kiss you on your forehead anon
c/w: perv!simon, mentions of smut and simon being a little weirdo but nothing too graphic
he’s glad all that money that your father gets overpaid is being put some good use. at least his boss’ pretty little daughter is being taken care of. he’d hate for you to have to go without :(
you’re just so sweet, he thinks. much nicer than you’re prick of a father. every time you bring him a coffee with same amount of milk and sugar that he asks for every time, he feels his cock straining against his boxers. he just knows you’d take such good care of him
you’d send him off to work everyday with his coffee in a thermos and a sweet kiss, maybe a promise of a blowie when he gets home :)
never drinks when you come to the pub with your father. he learnt that you like to leave early, getting annoyed with all the horny dogs he works with trying to chat you up. one time you asked him for a lift home and he was too pissed to do it. he’ll never make that mistake again
tries to hide his eagerness when you finally ask him for a lift home again, nodding his head and trying to seem non-chalant but deep down he’s losing his mind that he gets to spend even a little bit of time with you
walks you out to his truck, holding the door open for you like a real gentleman would. simon is far from a gentleman, though. he just figured he needs to pretend to be. you thank him with a lovely smile and it takes everything for this loser not to cum in his pants
his small talk is so BAD. he spends all day keeping to himself. he is just simply a big man who likes to swing a sledgehammer at work and break things :( just let him eat your pussy PLEASE, he’ll make it so nice
walks you to your door like a proper man would, only so he can smell your hair when you turn your back to him to go inside. he’s actually such a little freak but he would be so good for you :( you’d never have to work a day. just cook and clean for him and suck his big, dumb cock when he gets home :(
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colonelarr0w · 2 months
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Hiiii i really like reading some angst stuffs so heres my idea loll!
What about reader never felt like they were ever loved romantically and has been quite the loner for a while. So, to have Gojo confess to the reader has reader confused, but quite happy, but will soon find out that its a dare and Gojo only has the end of the year to make reader date him! (Just say the current month is near december loll)
But as time goes by, Gojo starts to actually have feelings for reader and suddenly reader overheard their convo of Gojo with his friends about the dare...
(PLS IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO SPECIFIC THISIS ONE OF MY FIRST TIMES REQUESTING SMTHHH. BTW YOU CAN CHANGE THE GOJO TO ANYONE ELSE :3AND ALSO YOU CAN CHOOSE WETHER TO HAVE COMFORT OR NAH. AND THANKS FOR GIVING YOUR TIME TO READ THIS HAVE A NICE DAYY)
-🍰
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Sypnosis - Gojo was already known to be a heartbreaker, but you didn't stop to think for a second that maybe -- just maybe -- he was trying to break your heart too.
Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, Gojo is a MAJOR dick in this one, angst
Word Count - 3.1k
A/N - Hi Anon! (STOP IM CRYING I LOVE EMOJI ANONS SO MUCH) So you made the mistake of giving me an angst prompt while also saying that I could maybe add comfort. I will be doing no such thing. Kisses!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
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Satoru Gojo was, by every single standard, a lady’s man.  
And you, by every single standard, were the complete opposite of every man’s “ideal type”. 
How you managed to find yourself in a situation where you told others, “I’m dating Satoru Gojo,” felt like a fever dream constructed by the hardest drug.  
The way in which he asked you out was — well — Satoru Gojo. A grand white banner with your name scrawled into it, underneath it the words: Go out with me?  
Of course you accepted, though you were thoroughly confused. You had always been an observer from the shadows, not emerging unless it was absolutely necessary.  
To have the Satoru Gojo ask you out in front of a gaggle of people was off putting — and certainly not anything that you had expected.  
But none of that stopped you from saying yes, which made the snowy-haired male’s smile widen three times in size — if that was even possible.  
“C’mon Satoru, it’s an easy 2,500 Yen,” Geto says, a sly smirk curling the corner of his mouth upward as he leans over the back of the couch. 
Gojo sighs, jutting out his bottom lip as one of his hands busies itself with running through his hair. It wasn’t a terrible bet — even though the payoff didn’t exactly feel worth it.  
“2,500 Yen to ask her out?” Gojo confirms, turning his head and glancing over the rims of his glasses. Geto smirks again, turning his phone and flashing a picture of you at Gojo, just to make sure that he would be asking out the right person. 
“2,500 Yen,” Geto nods. Gojo sighs, his body slumping forward dramatically. Geto grins again, watching his best friend crack down — no way was he turning down a bet that he could easily secure. 
“Fine, you have a deal,” Gojo holds his hand out, failing to hold back the smirk that curls his mouth upward as Geto slaps his hand against Gojo’s. 
The two shake on it, and the bet is made. 
But, of course, you were oblivious to all of that. You believed that, for the very first time, someone looked at you in a way that wasn’t strictly platonic. Someone loved you — really, truly loved you. 
And what an extravagant partner Gojo was, buying you small trinkets that he believed you would like, taking you to restaurants that you had looked at on the street for a moment too long — he had even forced himself to learn how to ice skate because you mentioned offhandedly that it would be nice to skate with someone.  
For the first time in a very long time, you felt connected to someone. Conversations flowed so easily between you both, never forced or uncomfortable. It was as if you had known each other your entire lives.  
Gojo knew that it was fake — you thought it was truly real.  
< … > 
“(Y/N)! There you are!” Gojo calls out with a flashy wave of his arm. Once you’re in reach of him, he latches onto you, nose nuzzling into your hair. 
You let out a startled squeak at the force of his body against yours, but immediately loosen up and return his embrace, snuggling as deeply as you can into his arms.  
“Satoru!” you laugh out breathlessly, squeezing his shoulders as he lifts you from the ground, easily spinning the both of you in a circle. “You act like you haven’t seen me in years.” 
Gojo rolls his eyes dramatically, setting you down but keeping his arms locked around your waist. He gaze meets yours through the darkened lenses of his glasses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.  
“Oh god, I know that look,” you mutter teasingly, which earns you an affectionate pinch to your side — one that you swat him away for.  
“You wound me,” Gojo sasses back, releasing you only to place a hand flat against his chest as if he had been stabbed. You roll your eyes, laughing breathily at his antics.  
“What do you want to do tonight? It’s date night,” you remind him, watching as his face breaks into a bright smile. He reaches for you again, lifting your hand and twirling you around before he tugs you to his chest. 
“I was thinking-“ he begins in a sing-song tone. You raise an eyebrow at him, which he quickly leans in to peck. “-we go to the movies, get some cheap froyo, and crash in your dorm.” 
You smile at him, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him. 
“Yes please!” 
< … > 
“The movies? Froyo? God, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re falling for her,” Geto mocks the motion of throwing up, earning a laugh from the snowy-haired boy that stands next to him.  
Gojo rolls his eyes, catching the basketball that Geto throws at his chest. He bounces it once against the ground before taking a shot, smirking as it swishes inaudibly into the basket.  
“I want her to at least believe it,” Gojo responds with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. Geto rolls his eyes, biting back the chuckle that rises in his throat. “What? I’m not lying.” 
“No, I know you’re not lying,” Geto bends to pick up the abandoned basketball, bouncing it against the ground and taking a shot of his own — which misses. 
“So then why the sudden comment?” 
“Because of the look in your eyes whenever someone mentions her or whenever you see her,” Geto says plainly, turning to cross his arms at Gojo.  
He purses his lips together, eyebrows pinching in confusion as he silently urges Geto to continue. How he looks at you? 
Geto sighs through his nose, then lifting his fingers to pinch at its bridge. The basketball is long abandoned now, rolling into the center of the gym and remaining there.  
“Every time she calls out to you with that — stupid nickname, you brighten up like a dog who’s seeing his owner,” Geto points out. Gojo can feel the tips of his ears burn red at that — because even he knew that it was true. 
“Toru! There you are!” you call out affectionately, crossing the training fields and practically jumping into Gojo’s awaiting arms. 
He smiles warmly as your face nestles into the junction between his neck and shoulder, breathing in the familiarity of your scent and holding you close to him. 
“That isn’t true,” he murmurs, scratching at the back of his neck. Geto stands still for a moment, staring at Gojo with a look that could easily slaughter an entire town.  
“No? How about when she made you lunch that one time?” Geto raises his eyebrow — his eyes visually calling bullshit as Gojo’s cheeks burn the same shade of red as his ears.  
“Ta-da!” you smile widely as you present Gojo with the intricately put-together bento box. He takes it from your hands, allowing his fingers to brush against your own for a moment too long — an action that brought a light blush to your cheeks.  
He smiles down at the bento you had prepared for him, feeling his heart swell at the idea that someone cared enough about him to sit down and put so much thought into preparing him a lunch. Gojo is quick to then lean in, pecking your cheek and smiling widely at the dark red hue that coats your face. 
“That’s…different,” Gojo tries to argue, but Geto is quick to call out his bluff, laughing loudly in his friend’s face and striding towards the center of the gym to retrieve the abandoned basketball. He bends, scooping it into his palms and bouncing it twice against the ground.  
“Oh, I’m sure that it is,” Geto rolls his eyes, twisting his body and shooting the basketball — already displaying annoyance when it misses yet again.  
Gojo sighs, the puff of air he releases blowing his bangs from his face. He watches as Geto goes to retrieve the basketball, bouncing it once before roughly checking it to Gojo.  
“Careful Satoru, I wouldn’t want you to fall for her,” Geto teases, feeling himself smirk as Gojo’s hands catch the basketball. The snowy-haired male rolls his eyes in response, bouncing the ball. 
“That won’t happen, trust me,” Gojo bites back, not failing to notice the knowing glint in Geto’s eyes.  
“Sure it won’t.” 
< … > 
Hey! I’m at the theatre, where are you? 
READ 
Satoru? 
READ 
I’m just assuming you’re running late, just text me when you’re here! 
DELIVERED 
Puffing out the air that you held in your cheeks, you stow your phone away into your pocket, eyes silently scanning the front entrance of the theatre. Maybe you missed him? No, there was no tuft of snowy-white hair anywhere in the crowd — surely he was just running late.  
You shuffle on your feet, adjusting the small bag that you had brought with you. The interior is stuffed with snacks that both you and Gojo enjoyed — including his favorite from the local convenience store. You smile to yourself, already picturing the wide smile that would cross his face when you presented him with the snacks.  
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, which you all but dive for with a speed that feels almost inhuman. You stare down at the illuminated screen, heart deflating as you realize it’s only a message from your mother, checking in and asking you how your date with Gojo was going.  
Lifting a shaky hand to your eyes, you wipe away the tears that cling to your bottom lash line. You text your mother back, lying to her about the state of the date and pushing your phone back into your pockets. You glance back down at your open purse, blinking back your tears at the sight of the snacks — what a waste. 
< … >  
“Sato—“ 
You pause just outside of the classroom doors, resting your palms against the sliding door and peering curiously inside. Your eyebrows pinch together, eyes narrowing as you listen intently to the conversation shared between Gojo and Geto, both of whom seemed to be in the middle of — maybe — arguing with one another.  
“How much longer am I keeping this up for?” Gojo all but whines, leaning back in the seat that he was occupying, his feet propped up on the desk as he releases an annoyed huff.  
Geto chuckles, rubbing a hand over his face as he sits on the desk directly in front of Gojo, folding his legs over one another and smirking down at his best friend. Gojo sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face as he leans forward, his sunglasses slightly slipping down the bridge of his nose.  
“Why? Getting bored?” Geto raises an eyebrow at Gojo, lifting his arms to cross them firmly over his chest. Gojo rolls his eyes yet again, releasing a deepened sigh that only has Geto releasing the chuckle that he had been holding in.  
“I’m getting tired,” Gojo mocks a dramatic yawn, throwing his arms into the air and leaning back in his chair. Geto raises an eyebrow at the answer, curious now. 
“Tired?” 
“Exhausted. I don’t think you understand Suguru, she’s so desperately clingy and just — I can’t keep up with it,” Gojo explains in exasperation, rubbing his hands over his face and digging his fingers into the skin of this temples, rubbing them in slow circles.  
You feel your heart crack the more that Gojo speaks — listening quietly as he lists off all of the things that he seemingly hates about you. Your eyes burn with tears, and suddenly every ounce of love that you ever felt for Gojo seep out of you in waves. 
Had he felt that way about you the whole time? 
“Hey, you were the one that said yes. You could’ve dropped the bet,” Geto shrugs his shoulders, an action that earns him an annoyed kick from Gojo.  
“It’s 2,500 Yen. I’m not saying no to that,” Gojo reminds his friend, waving a finger in his face. Geto chuckles breathily, but pauses at an unfamiliar sound — a choked cry. His head whips around in an attempt to locate the source of the sound, feeling his heart drop to the deepest depths of his stomach at the sight of a retreating figure by the classroom's doors.  
Gojo follows Geto's wandering gaze, eyebrows knitting together in confusion at the sudden change in his friend's facial expression. "Shit." Is all that Geto says before he moves to the door, peering out of it just in time to see your figure turn the farthest corner of the hallway – then vanishing.  
Geto's eyes flicker to meet Gojo's as the latter leans his chin onto Geto's shoulder, staring at the spot that you had just disappeared from.  
"What happened?" Gojo inquires curiously, not failing to notice the way that Geto's spine stands as stiff as cardboard. The dark-haired male swallows the lump in his throat – they were both royally fucked.  
"We're fucked." 
< ... >  
"There, there, c'mon (Y/N), don't let this--" 
"He lied to me!" You rub your hands roughly over your tear-filled eyes, feeling your chest tighten as you look away from Utahime's concerned gaze. Her eyebrows furrow together in worry, eyes silently taking you in as you curl into yourself.  
She would be lying if she said that she wasn't downright pissed at what Gojo had done to you. After listening to your tearful ramble about what you heard, any and all respect that she had for her snowy-haired classmate went completely out of the window. 
Not that there was much respect there in the first place.  
"So how much of what he said did he actually mean?" Your voice is a broken cry, trembling in a way that has Utahime reaching out to comfortingly lace her fingers with your own.  
"I don't know," she whispers in response, not knowing how to help you. You turn your head away from her, sniffing and wiping your nose with the cloth of your sleeve. "I'm sorry (Y/N)." 
You shake your head, breath trembling as you grip at your knees. You screw your eyes shut, still seeing his affectionate smile behind your eyelids – you wish that you could forget it completely. You can still feel him too; you can feel his arms wrapped around you and his lips as they press affectionately to your cheek.  
You begin to wonder how much effort he actually put into your dates, you begin to wonder if his affectionate touches were genuine, you begin to wonder if it was him writing his text messages out or if it was someone else entirely. Did he ever care about you? 
"Hey." 
You glance up at Utahime, sniffling quietly as she reaches a hand out, laying her palm against your cheek and thumbing away the stray tears that roll down your cheeks. Her heart breaks at the sight of you – but her heart also yells angrily at the idea that Gojo would toy with you for a measly 2,500 Yen.  
She knew that he was an asshole – everyone did. But she didn't think he was that big of an asshole.  
"How about me and you go out? I'll even text Mei Mei and Shoko," Utahime offers, smiling again at you. You sniffle, cheeks reddened by your tears. Your eyes are puffy, lashes still wet with tears that take their sweet time in dripping down your face.  
"Can we stay in instead?"  
Utahime nods, smiling again at you. Her arms extend, wrapping around you and tugging you into her chest, squeezing affectionately at you. You sink into her embrace, face pressed comfortably into her shoulder.  
"Yeah, of course we can." 
< ... >  
"You're such a dick!" Utahime yells in a fit of rage, shoving her hands against Gojo's chest and glaring daggers at him as he stumbles backwards. He stares at her incredulously, eyebrows raised to a point that his forehead is wrinkled five times over.  
He hadn't expected this behavior from the usually calm and collected girl – but the way that she had stormed at him screaming her head off told him that he had royally screwed up.  
Over his shoulder, Geto watches knowingly. He knows that he'll likely be yelled at too, so in mental preparation, he remains completely silent, not wanting Utahime to turn her rage on him prematurely.  
"What is this about?" Gojo asks genuinely, his eyes narrowed in confusion as Utahime angrily takes a step back from him, restraining herself from actively strangling him.  
"What is this – so you just have no idea what you did to (Y/N)? God, you're dense!" Utahime all but screams, throwing her hands up in a fit of rage. 
Gojo narrows his eyes, then they widen – shit. How the fuck did you find out? 
"What do you mean?" He pauses for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What about (Y/N)?" 
"Oh, don't act so clueless! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Utahime jabs a finger at Gojo's chest, her eyes burning with a rage that he had genuinely never seen in her before. She takes a brave step towards him – in return, he takes a step back.  
"I don't--" 
"Does 2,500 Yen sound familiar to you?" Utahime raises an eyebrow at him. He deadpans, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and feeling his heart sink.  
His silence tells her everything that she needs to know. She straightens, shooting a pointed glare to Geto as well – resulting in him looking anywhere but her direction, gaze flickering around wildly.  
She turns her attention back to Gojo, looking him up and down with an expression of nothing but pure disgust. He winces at the glint in her eyes – God, he had really screwed up.  
"You're both disgusting," Utahime spits venomously, then turning on her heel and promptly striding away from both males. Gojo turns, exchanging a worried yet remorseful glance in Geto's direction. His friend only swallows, they had both royally screwed up. 
< ... >  
Gojo suffered with the aftermath of you hearing his conversation – you avoided him like he had been infected with some kind of infectious disease. Any room he entered, you exited. Any time he called out your name with a polite wave, you turned your nose up and continued walking.  
In a way, you pretended that he simply didn't exist – that the person waving to you or trying to interact with you was nothing but a phantom, one that you ignored as if it was the only thing that you knew how to do.  
"(Y/N)! Hey, can we--" 
You stride past him, shoulder knocking against his own as you exit the classroom. He stands silently at its center, lowering his hand back to his side – he had wanted to reach out for you, but something inside of him told him to simply leave you be.  
And the day that he saw you happily hanging off of Nanami's arm was the day that he realized – loving someone from afar was the worst pain of all.  
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helen-with-an-a · 1 month
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I am an adult pt. 2
Hi. So this is part 2 to I am an adult. I already had an idea that I wanted to do another part but thank you to the Anon who gave me a good idea for it. I hope you enjoy it. <3
Barca Femeni x Reader
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4
TW: Angst
Word Count: 4k
Description: R realises she might not be as adult as she things she is
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Everything was wonderful for the first few weeks after they came to your house. They calmed down, and you calmed down. It was great. But something felt … off. They stopped treating you like a child. Which is what you wanted, right? You had asked for this. You had asked them to stop policing your actions and criticising you. You wanted this. Then why did it feel so wrong?
You didn't go crazy; you continued your life as it always had been; movie nights with Patri, dinner with Pina, coffee with Ona. Everything was totally and completely normal. Except you no longer came home to text messages asking about your location or concerns over your safety. You no longer had Lucy reminding you about your weekly food shop that needed to match your nutritional needs. You no longer had Alexia helping you fill out your official government documents. You no longer had Marta and Caro texting you about your upcoming schedules. You no longer had Paños checking to ensure you were up at the correct times. Your safety net had slipped away, and you were dangling in the middle of open water without anyone to catch you.
But this was entirely of your own making. You didn't realise it, but you had failed to apologise to them. You had failed to act like the adult you thought you were and own up to your actions. They didn't realise it either, not consciously anyway, until a few days later. Paños watched you from the corner of her eye, goofing off with Mapi when she got a sour taste in her mouth. Ingrid had approached her to apologise for her behaviour when she snapped at them. The adult thing to do.
"Hey, Ale?" Paños caught Alexia's elbow, stopping her from moving away. "Did Y/N ever apologise to you? For shouting in the changing rooms?" Alexia frowned. No, you hadn't. You had shouted at her in front of your colleagues, your friends, and you hadn't said a word. Never mind that she was your captain. You yelled at someone in public when they only tried to help. And never said sorry. She shook her head. Sandra hummed and began making discreet enquiries about whether you had apologised to anyone else; over the past few months, you had been rude to all of them. Even Ingrid and Mapi when they had expressed concern over you going out for the third night in a row. They had all apologised to you, recognising their own faults with the extreme actions they had around you. But you didn't extend the same courtesy to them. The older teammates pulled back even further, annoyed with your behaviour and lack of ownership over them – again, it was something you weren't aware of, too busy in your bubble of newfound freedom.
Over the next three months or so, you were finding things increasingly more difficult. At first, it was the food shop. When you were with Alexia, she always kept something healthy in the freezer for you should you feel like food shopping was too much for you but you needed something in the fridge or pantry. After long days at the training centre and after matches, the last thing you wanted to do was go to the always-too-busy shops. So, you began ordering food some days of the week. It wasn't like you ordered anything too unhealthy; you always got something vaguely nutritious with vegetables, protein, and carbohydrates. Everything you need for a well-balanced meal. But with the increased deliveries, the carefully constructed budget that Alexia and Lucy had worked out for you began to crumble. Soon, your bank account was much less full than it once was.
It was a sunny morning in early May when things really hit the fan. You had been pulled into a conference room. It all looked very official. Men with official suits you didn't recognise sat on one end of the long table. The Barcelona Big Bosses, as you called them, were along another. Jonatan and Alexia sat on the third side of the table, leaving a single seat on the fourth. Jonatan looked concerned, the Big Bosses looked stern, and the Officials looked bored. Alexia looked furious – she refused to look at you, her hands fiddling with the pen in front of her.
"Hola," you said as you took your seat. Introductions were made, and something small and square was placed on the table in the middle.
Buen día. "Soy Carlos Álvarez y él es mi colega Juan Ramírez; trabajamos para el Departamento de Estado y hemos sido asignados a su caso." You stared at the Official blankly. Your Spanish had been improving, but he spoke too quickly for you to understand. "Le gustaría que esta entrevista se realizara en inglés?" You looked to Alexia for guidance, but she stayed staring at the papers in front of her.
"Um, lo siento, um, no en-entiendo. No hablo español," you responded. It was the phrase Lucy had taught you when you first arrived. The man gestured to one of the other Officials.
"My name is Juan Ramirez, and this is Carlos Álvarez; we are officers from the State Department assigned to your case." Your heart stopped. Did you have a case with the State Department? How? Why? Your fear must have shown on your face as Jonatan took pity on you.
"Y/N, you haven't filled out any tax forms or completed your Right to Work visa." Tax forms? A right-to-work visa? You have never had to fill any of those things out before.
"But … I've not completed those before."
"Yes, you have. Look." Juan handed you photocopies of filled-out forms, all with your name and information on them.
"I didn't …"
"I did it for you, Y/N," Alexia answered. "We used to sit down together and do it." When did you do that? You don't remember any forms.
"It shouldn't take too long to actually fill out the forms, but because they're late, you must go to court to hand them to the judges. Due to your status and job, you can stay in the country, but you cannot participate in matches or training until you have received confirmation from the State Department that you can work again." Juan explained. Court? No training? No matches? "We will also have to freeze your salary. It will be back-dated once you have the necessary documentation, but as of right now, you cannot receive any more money for FC Barcelona or anyone else in Spain." No more money? You were really starting to panic. What did they mean you couldn't be paid? You tried frantically to get Alexia's attention, but she refused to meet your eyes.
The rest of the meeting was a blur. You had been escorted to the mercifully empty changing rooms and gathered your things. As you entered the main corridor, you met an incensed Alexia, with Marta, Paños, Patri and Irene standing behind her. The captains.
You went to open your mouth when Alexia cut you off. "I don't want to hear a word from you. How could you be so irresponsible? You said you wanted to be treated like an adult, yet you do something as stupid as this. You could be deported, Y/N. You could be banned from ever entering Spain again."
"I know, but-"
"Do you? Do you know? You said you wanted to be treated like the adult you claimed you are, but you are not acting like one. Adults take responsibility for their own actions. Adults apologise to their friends for shouting at them. Adults can complete simple forms that take only a few minutes to complete. Adults act like adults," she continued. You felt a singular tear roll down your cheek. "And now you're crying," Alexia threw her hands in the air. "You wanted to be an adult, and you failed." That stung. But it wasn't a lie either. And that made it hurt worse. "Adults own up to their consequences and deal with them."
"Alright, Ale. I think she gets it." Patri tried to help you. She was one of your best friends, after all.
"Does she? Do you understand? Do you understand how much trouble you are in? Not just with me or the club but with the government?"
"Yes," you whispered so quietly that she barely heard you. She straightened to her full height, chest puffed out, shoulders back.
"You will not have contact with anyone from this club until you have received confirmation that you are allowed to work here. I will not allow you to drag them into your mess. When you are allowed back to train, you will be on the pitch every day at 7 am. You will complete extra laps before and after training until I deem it appropriate for you to stop. You will apologise to every single person who works for FC Barcelona for the hassle you have created for them. You will have to earn your right to even sit on the bench, let alone play or be a part of the Starting XI. You will have to earn back our respect, not just as a player, but as a person." Alexia said icily before pushing past you. The others followed suit, slightly concerned for you but still following their captain's lead. Patri gently patted your shoulder as she went.
You made it about 5 minutes into your car journey home before you deemed it too dangerous to drive. You pulled into a quiet side street and sobbed. You had really fucked up. You had really, truly, absolutely fucked up. And you weren't talking about the paperwork. That terrified you, of course. You had never even spoken to the Police, and now you had an open case file against you with the State Department. But what hurt the most was how appallingly and horrifically you had fucked up your friendships. The older girls had taken you under their wings without being asked. And how did you repay them? By behaving like a little brat who wanted to sit at the big girl's table.
The next day, Juan and Carlos turned up on your doorstep, armed with a mountain of paperwork and a tough expression. It had taken you 4 hours to complete all the documents you needed. Your court date came through the post a few weeks later. It was set for a month's time. You had hardly left your house. Initially, you wallowed in self-deprecation and began to hate yourself for how you treated the people in your team. The women that had helped you settle into Spain without being asked. The women who let you sleep in their spare rooms and crash on their couches. The women who filled out essential documents for you without you even realising it. And you had never even thanked them. Instead, you had hated them, resented them for the suffocating feeling you thought they had created. Maybe it was you? Perhaps you were so insistent on doing 'normal' things that you made your own asphyxiating environment around them?
After a week of feeling sorry for … everything, you decided enough was enough. You dragged yourself out of bed and into the shower. You forced yourself to make food and do an at-home workout. After moving your body a little bit, you sat down and began to concoct a plan. Alexia told you you had to apologise to everyone under the FC Barcelona banner. So that's where you would start. You wrote a list with each department on it. You couldn't find individual names, but you knew roughly how big the department was. You wanted to do something that was genuinely hard as an apology.
Buying flowers with a printed note was easy. So, you decided baking was the best option. You could bake reasonably well, and who doesn't love sweet treats. You decided it was better to be safe than sorry, so you made as many cakes, muffins, doughnuts, churros, brownies, and cookies as possible. The works. You couldn't go near the training centre, so you couriered them each day, handing over your mountain of confectionary with a label attached to which department it should go. Inside was a handwritten note apologising profusely for the difficulties you had caused them, promising that you would come to speak to them in person as soon as you were able to. The team was slightly easier to individualise things; you knew their favourites, so you spent a few days baking up a storm for them. You knew they were under strict instructions not to contact you – you wondered what punishment would await them if they tried – but you couldn't deny the total radio silence hurt a little. Could they really cut you out of their life so quickly? But this was your own making, you kept reminding yourself. This was on you. You had to fix this.
Eventually, your time in court came as you handed over the documents. The judge was strict and disapproving, but you could tell the man behind the gavel was nice enough. Your official confirmation documents came two days later, with instructions on who to give them to and when your next form deadlines were. You took out your phone, recorded the dates in your calendar, and wrote them on a piece of paper to pin to your fridge.
All that was left for you to do now was go to training.
Go to training and face the team.
Go to training and face the older girls you had been so rude to.
Go to training and face your captains.
Go to training and face Alexia again.
You set your alarm for 6 am the following day. You completed your usual daily routine – showering, brushing your teeth, getting your protein shake and breakfast, getting changed, getting in the car, and driving to the grounds. You had hoped it would calm you, but as the building got nearer and nearer, your nerves began to skyrocket. Taking steadying breaths, you made your way to the changing rooms. The building was eerie, being this quiet. Typically, the hallways were filled with loud chatter, and the changing rooms were filled with laughter. You made your way onto the pitches at 6.45. You were early, hoping it showed Alexia that you were trying to fix things. You initially decided to stand and wait for her, but then you remembered that she had told you you would be running until she decided you would stop. So, you start doing your stretching and activation. You didn't know this, but the Captains watched you from the conference room. It had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the training facility. After your stretches, your phone buzzed. Alexia had texted.
Ale <3: 30 laps.
Cariño: Hi. Yes, no problem. Will you be coming outside?
Ale <3: No, but I will know if you cheat.
30 laps was a lot. But you didn't want to cheat; this was your punishment for all the stress you had caused, so you would do it, and you would do it honestly—even if it killed you. You had asked because you wanted to see Alexia. You tried to apologise to her first, but that wasn't an option at the moment.
Ale <3: It's 7. Start running.
You filled with your watch as you took off on a gentle jog.
"30? Are you trying to kill her?" Irene asked as she watched you complete your 20th lap. You had only been running for about 35 minutes, but she was mildly concerned. This was the first time you'd done any significant form of movement in a while.
"She won't be needed in matches for a while. She'll be fine." Alexia wasn't about to let you off the hook.
"I know she won't be at matches for a while, but come on, Ale. She's got to do a full day's training after this. And laps afterwards." Marta pointed out. They had all been disappointed and hurt by your actions, but she thought Alexia might be taking it too far.
"She's fine. And who said she won't be at matches?" Alexia smiled, slightly evilly, Patri thought.
"You did?" Paños looked at her, confused.
"No, I said she won't be playing in matches. She will still attend them." They all shared mildly worried looks but let Alexia have her way.
When you eventually finished, you walked around with your hands on your head, taking deep breaths and trying to slow your heart rate down. 
Ale <3: You can go. Be at breakfast at 8.30.
Your heart sank a little as you felt the iciness behind her texts, but this was your own doing. You had to deal with the consequences—like an adult. You headed to the showers to get dressed for the next training session, your shoulders slightly drooping. Alexia couldn't deny that it pulled on her heartstrings a little, but you must be taught a lesson about accountability.
When you arrived out of the showers, the changing room was busy. Everyone stopped talking as you walked to your cubby. You decided to utilise everyone staring at you to your advantage.
"I would like to take this time to apologise to you as a team. I will be coming and doing it individually as well, but I wanted to do this as a team. I am so, deeply, truly sorry for the way I have been acting in these last few months. I was angry and frustrated, but instead of talking calmly like an adult, I raised my voice and lashed out. I am so sorry. I am also sorry for causing a rift in the team – that was never my intention. I am also sorry for the issues I have caused by not completing simple forms. I apologise." You nodded and turned around, hoping the eyes wouldn't keep looking at you. Ona first broke the silence, nudging you slightly and smirking as you met her eyes.
The training was brutal, and Jonatan was not taking it easy on you (and you were reasonably sure it had a little bit to do with Alexia). You used the time you were allowed to talk to apologise to everyone personally. Most people shook you off, but the older girls listened to you and told them how much you hurt them. They accepted it nonetheless – they could see you were trying to make amends. You got through training without complaints, like an adult. You helped collect the equipment before stopping in front of your 4 captains.
"H – How many laps?" You asked, not quite looking any of them in the eyes.
"5," Alexia commented. You nodded and set off running again.
"Ale, aren't you being a little harsh? You're making her run about 6km today on top of training." Marta looked at you. You looked a little weak, running slower than this morning. But you had the determined glint in your eye that told her only Alexia could make you stop.
"She needs to learn her lesson." She shrugged and moved away.
It continued for about three weeks before Jonatan put his foot down. He was starting to get more than a little concerned by your and Alexia's behaviour. You had made up with the rest of the team entirely. The older girls, bar Alexia, asked you about your evenings, and you asked about theirs—just like any group of adults would do.
"Alexia. You need to stop this. She has proved herself. She has said sorry to every person in this building. You need to stop punishing her. I want her back on the team sheets for matches, and I can't do that with you slowly killing her." Jonatan had called her into his office after training. He hadn't initially questioned her behaviour; he had supported it at the beginning. But he could see that the constant rejection from her was getting to you. You were still young, after all.
"She hasn't," Alexia said, watching as he furrowed his brow in confusion. "She hasn't apologised to me."
"Maybe that's because you keep looking at her like you're going to kill her. I see her come up to you, clearly trying to apologise, and then you stare at her, not unlike how you're staring at me now." She quickly fixed her face. "You're terrifying the poor girl."
Her talk with Jonatan made Alexia question her methods a little bit. Yes, she made you run an additional 35 laps daily, but you had to learn your lesson, right? This was the only way to make you see how you were behaving. She was sure of it. In actuality, she was hurt. Your actions had really hurt her. Disregarding you shouting at her in front of everyone, you hadn't wanted her. And that really stung. She may have wanted you to also feel that pain … just a little bit.
As Alexia walked up to your door, she was slightly … nervous? No, that couldn't be right. She was Alexia Putellas, she didn't get nervous. But she was. It was the same feeling she got as a teenager when she knew she had run late at training, missing her curfew, and knowing that her mother was waiting for her behind the door. She decided she was more apprehensive than nervous. Alexia did not get nervous. As she raised her hand to knock, the door disappeared.
"I really don't know what to do," you jumped slightly as you registered that someone was standing before you. "Oh, hi," you said uncertainly. "Ona, I've got to go … Ale, um, Alexia's here … bye." You hung up the phone, putting your coat back behind the door. "Would you like to come in?" You offered meekly.
"Por favor. If that's ok." You smiled hesitantly and stepped back.
"Would you like a drink? I've got water, juice, tea, coffee … wine?" You sounded so unsure of yourself. Had she caused this?
"A tea would be lovely." You both settled yourself with the standard social conventions.
"I wanted to talk to you, actually," you said as you gestured to the table. "I wanted to apologise to you. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I was rude. I should have been adult enough to discuss my feelings properly," you stared hard at the table, fidgeting with the mug in your hands. As Alexia opened her mouth again, you continued, pushing through before she could comment. "I would also like to apologise for what happened with the documents. I was so stupid not to fill out those forms. I made something that would have taken an afternoon at most into a massive thing. I'm sorry if I caused any embarrassment to you, as a person or as Capitana." You thought you embarrassed her? Yes, what you did was irresponsible, but you were living alone for the first time in a new country. Alexia should have made you do the forms earlier when you still lived with her, not doing them herself without your knowledge.
"Gracias, cariño." You looked up, shocked at the term of endearment. She hadn't called you that in a long time. "I would also like to apologise."
"You have nothing to-" you interjected.
"Sí, cariño, I do. I was so harsh on you. Harsher than what was warranted. I'm sorry. I'm not embarrassed; I never was. I was hurt. You said you didn't need or want me anymore. That hurt me," she explained.
"Ale … Alexia, I'll always want you around. I didn't want to go cold turkey on you. I just wanted you to treat me like you treat Cláudia, or Jana, or Ona. But I never wanted you to not be in my life." She smiled softly at your response. Although, she didn't like that you hesitated to call her Ale.
"Look at us, cariño, talking like the adults we both are." She joked as she sipped on her tea.
"Like the adults we both are, Ale." You smiled back.
So that was part 2. I hope you liked it. I don't think I'll make any more parts, but we shall see.
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monstersighing · 16 days
Note
Hello! I sAw your intro and was intrigued. I have a request,- you don't have to if its too much-
imagine AFAB reader who is a devotee to this Eldritch being, seeing them as a deity or a God. As the world grew more modern/OR there's a great war. SOMETHING that lead the other devotees to not believe in this being anymore, bUt ofcouRse, our reader are devoted n loyal to the being, iN which the being will RewaRd the reader
You could get creative with this! I imagine when the reader prays, the Eldritch will speak to them telepathically, (whether to ask for a sacrafice- oR other *orDers~*) SO, reader has a voice kink ;). And soMe other stuff too- like corruption, tentacles, anal, cunnilingus, edging, and over stim pleasee-! (if its too much I understand-)
Bonus if our devotee reader was rlly innocent before hand :)
Thank You!! ~ 💫
Eldritch Being/Deity x AFAB Reader
Title: Fearfully and Wonderfully Made
NSFW, 18+, MDNI
Content: dubious consent, religious kink, corruption, tentacles, voice kink, praise kink, edging, overstim, mindfuck, double penetration (v and a), cunnilingus.
Notes: Thank you for the idea shooting star anon. This is probably the filthiest thing I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy it.
Constructive feedback from readers is appreciated.
+++
Your God is one of secrets, veiled and hidden, his mysteries not fully known to you.
+++
When the army approaches, the convent Mother hands you a leather-bound book and tells you to run, as far and as fast as you can.
You stop after the sun begins to set. When you look back, you can see a thick plume of smoke rising in the air, above where the convent should be.
You find yourself alone for the first time in your life. All the temples to your God that you pass are ransacked and burned with no worshippers left.
When you pray, there is no answer. But you keep your faith.
You head east because that is where your God first revealed himself. You keep away from the towns, frightened of the men that gather in the streets with their loud voices and assessing eyes. You are innocent. You know what they would do to someone like you if you were found out.
The next evening, you page through the book that was given to you. Between prayers and invocations for your god it is illustrated: a penis twined in a feeler, spitting pearly beads of come from its fat head, breasts gripped by tentacles, men and women drawn with every hole stuffed, heads flung back in ecstasy.
You feel your crotch grow more sensitive and liquid with each page. You lie on your back and your hands roam under your clothes to pluck your nipples, then glide down your stomach to scratch at your thighs. When you can resist no longer, you open your thighs wide and rub two fingers across your soaking slit and push them inside.
You’re bucking against your fingers, almost at your climax, when you hear a voice.
Stop.
You freeze. There you are my little servant, the voice says, pleased.
After that each time you stop to rest and before you sleep your God is there telling you to touch yourself for him. You feel his presence as you push your fingers into your mouth to suck on and then rub at your clit. You chase your pleasure and each time your Lord tells you to stop, you do. Even when your body is shaking from the need to come. Your needy cunt throbs as you make your way to the place you will finally meet him.
You had been kept pure in the convent, awaiting the ritual that would make you your Lord’s bride. But when he demands you debase yourself you follow his command. He tells you where to go, and in these places, there is always someone willing to take your body and use it.
You will offer up your pain and your pleasure to me, your God says, and I will grow strong again.
You kneel in a stable, a cock pushed in your mouth then down your throat until tears leak from your eyes. At an inn, a man spanks you so hard that when you bounce in his lap after, the fingers digging into your ass leave you gasping. In front of a campfire, two men fill your mouth and cunt with their cocks so the movement of one pushes you deeper onto the other; after, a third man slides into your dripping cunt and his thrusts buckle your arms into the dirt. He pulls out to come and stripes your back with his spunk.
Each time, you climax to the rumble of your Lord’s approval in your head and his name on your tongue. The bruises on your knees, the ruined rasp of your voice, the spilt seed dirtying your flesh. All are marks of your devotion to him.
His voice becomes more powerful, a constant buzz filling your head that makes you shake and tremble.
+++
The temple you find is abandoned. But the altar is still there, surrounded by burnt-out candles.
A cloth-covered statue stands in front of the altar. You remove it, fold down to your knees and gaze at your God. The statue is the green of old copper. A shrouded face devoid of detail except for six eyes made of ruby. Numerous tentacles spill forth from under a mantle. You imagine those tendrils tight on your tender flesh.
You strip yourself bare and read the prayer to invoke your God. The cool air of the temple brings goosebumps to your skin, and you shiver. The anticipation of his arrival makes you wet. You clench your thighs around nothing, aching to be filled.
You know he has arrived by the scent that appears, like the air before the storm.
My most devoted one, he says.
The words warm you, but you are afraid to turn. You keep your eyes on the statue and reply, “My Lord”.
His tendrils slide across your arms and pull them behind your back. Your thighs are forced apart. A sticky tentacle pries its way into your mouth and holds down your tongue. Two more slide up your thighs where they rub in an alternating rhythm across your slit, sliding but not pressing in.
The first tentacle pushes in and seems to grow fatter. The stretch burns. The other rubs against your clit hard and insistent, and you whimper. Your hips twitch, wanting more. You feel your Lord touch the edges of your mind, and then push deeper, into your memories, even as the tentacle pushes deeper into your hole.
You are pressed to the stone floor of the temple as the length of the tentacle inside you rams in and out of your cunt with a squelching sound. The one in your mouth twines with your tongue and pulls. You feel the chilled stone floor against your cheek but also –
-- your hair being pulled as your face is fucked and –-
-- your already red and puffy nipples being bitten and --
-- come spattering over your face as you grind your hips back on another man’s cock and --
-- you feel your orgasm seize your body whole and --
Time stops, and you are held on the precipice of your orgasm.
You have made yourself my perfect servant, and you will reap the rewards.
And your orgasm crashes down and your God says, Now we begin.
Tentacles lift you and you are splayed on your back over the altar, your legs held wide. Your hands are released, and your God looms over you. You cannot see his face, only the suggestion of many eyes that makes you dizzy to look at. Your God dips his head, and a ridged tongue appears from under his hood. It rasps over your nipples making you squirm and then trails down to your stomach where it stops.
Hold yourself open for me.
You pull your cunt lips wide for his inspection. You see yourself then, through your lord’s eyes – your chest heaving, and your hole stretched ready to be fucked into - and feel his hunger.
So delicate, he says. So desperate.
His tongue laps against you, the irregular surface causing shocks of pleasure when it flicks over your clit. It wriggles inside you, torturously slow until you are filled to the brim. When his tongue begins to move your hands drop to the cool stone of the dais and you scrabble uselessly for purchase.
You cry out with loss when the tongue is removed, and then again with delight when he sheaths himself in your cunt with the thick tentacle that juts out of his mantle where a man’s cock would be. Two smaller tentacles spread your cheeks and drip fluid across your asshole, circling and pushing in you in a sinuous glide. Your body is full to bursting, and it trembles, overstimulated. The exquisite ache builds and when you climax again, it rips through you with every muscle tensing and then relaxing.
Your now limp body is buffeted by the three tentacles’ increasingly punishing thrusts, and you hear a loud “uhuhuhuh” echoing off the walls of the temple. Your foggy mind realizes that the noise is coming from you.
The tentacles press deep with a final hard grind and fluid spurts from them. The liquid fills your cunt and asshole. The two tenacles in your ass slip out, and you feel the fluid leak out of you and drip onto the floor.
A feeler plucks the hood from your God’s head. Another holds your face so you cannot look away.
You see your God’s face.
It is beautiful.
It is terrifying.
Looking into your Lord God’s many eyes, the most afraid and most joyful you have ever been, you think that this is what you were made for. To service your God in any way he sees fit.
You feel his approval clamour through your body. You come again clenching on the tentacle still spearing your cunt, and shake apart.
Then, all is dark.
+++
After, you crawl down from the altar and stand on legs that are as wobbly as a newborn colt. And it does feel like you have just been born, changed into something new.
Your God wraps you in a robe of silk, embroidered with a coiling design you remember from the convent. Draped in it, you walk out of the abandoned temple with your Lord God’s fluids still leaking out of you.
There is no fear left in you. You know what you must do: go and create new converts in any and every way your Lord asks.
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abbysdruidess · 10 months
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you ever see those tiktoks of ppl making to-go meals for their wives working at hospitals? i wanna do that for abby so badly 🥺 (i've seen some hcs of her being an orthopaedic surgeon and I think thats real af)
thank you for this anon<3 I was kind of in a writers block so this helped s a lot-send me more asks about my babygirl, my delightful wife.
l̳u̳n̳c̳h̳ ̳o̳f̳ ̳c̳h̳a̳m̳p̳i̳o̳n̳s̳ | modern au smut
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wc: 1.3k (my longest!!)
tags: fluff, smut, domesticity, reader gets head for cooking for her wife(not that she wasn't getting it anyway), Abby eats it the whole damn thing on the kitchen counter
a/n: this is in the form of headcanons with a smut drabble in the end-lmk what you guys think<33
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❦ I feel like in a modern au Abs would definitely choose a field that requires a lot of hard work(cause in the game also she overworked herself), so she's either a doctor or a construction worker(;)). I feel like she wouldn't want to choose to be a neurosurgeon like her father, bc as much as she admires his work, she doesn't want to be compared to him and she grew up with it, she wants something different. So her going into orthopaedics seems pretty reasonable.
❦ As for the lunch thing, I could totally see you making her lil lunches<3 She is careful about what she eats cause she wants maintain her muscled appearance, so she doesn't really go for the cafeteria food. Therefore, you make a habit of cooking food for the wife™️ every day. I imagine you getting one of these cute bento boxes and cook her some chicken, rice and salad the night before and set it up all cute<3
❦She'd always love it when you cook her food from your culture/country of origin also🥺because baby loved everything about you and wants to feel closer to you any chance she gets. In my country there's a lot of emphasis on fresh, unprocessed food so I imagine you growing a little garden outside your kitchen with fruits and vegetables, the works.
❦ Don't forget about dessert also-cooking a big tray of something like brownies or a batch of cookies on Sunday nights and put in on her lunch box with a note that goes like "finish your vegetables before you devour dessert!" or "eat lunch first, dear<3" . Bonus points if you kiss the note and get lipstick all over it.
❦ Maybe a coworker of hers notices one day(probably Manny cause he's the only one able to confront her about it) and goes up to her with a shit eating grin while she's eating it like "Damn doc, maybe that wife of yours can cook me up a lunch or too like yours sometime. She forgot to draw a heart on your brownies though." And normally if it was someone else she'd be pretty pissed off, because HOW DARE THEY mock the lunch her amazing, breathtaking wife worked so hard to make. But it's Manny so she knows he's just fucking around. SO Abby's like "Oh shut up Manny. You're just wish you had a girl who wants to make you lunch every day."
❦And truthfully she's extremely grateful for it, it's one of those things that reminds her why she married you, you care for her so much and cooking for her shows you look after her in one of the most vital, intimate ways possible. In the end of the week, once she comes home from work and sees you cleaning dishes in the sink, she walks up to you, leaving her little lunch box on the counter and wraps her big, beefy arms around you, while she whispers in your ear.
"I didn't thank you for lunch this week. I loved the cookies a lot.", and you can feel her breath slightly tickling your ear, the pads of her fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.
"It's alright Abs, I like making you food. You need to stay fit, big girl.", you respond, while you turn around and run your hands down her biceps.
"Hmm, thank you so much for caring about my health babe, or maybe you just like that your wife is packing such heavy guns under her shirt, huh?" she teases. You can't deny though, you love her figure. You can feel her hands on your hips as she tenderly lifts you on the counter, and you sigh happily.
"Yes Abby" you roll your eyes. "I'm soo thankful I have such a strong wife. It is quite beneficial at times.". Your hands ride up her shirt, cupping her firm, silken breasts. She exhales all wobbly, you know how sensitive her breasts are. But you know your little game won't last long.
She doesn't respond, just leans her face into yours so your noses bump and smiles. She quickly makes light work of your shirt, tossing it on the floor and goes for the button in your jeans next, as you help her by raising your hips off the counter. In one flawless motion, she has removed both your jeans and underwear, tossing them off with your shirt. Once the bare skin of your ass makes contact with the marble of the counter you shiver, and Abby brings her girthy palms to rest under your buttocks, warming up the skin there and slightly groping it.
"Lemme thank you for lunch. You are always so good to me. My pretty, little wife". She raises one of her hands and gently runs her pointer finger where your folds part, making you gasp. Your hands reach to her behind and cup her firm ass. "Alright." you whisper into her ear, as your eyes roll in the back of your head.
She then kisses a line from your jaw to your belly button, leaving sloppy, open mouth kisses where the drool from her mouth remains visible on your skin. You could only wish it would imprint on it, immortalising Abby's passionate mouth loving on your body. You shudder as you feel her delicately kissing your pussy, rubbing her tongue on your feminine lips as if she was making out with them. Her tongue teases the sensitive flesh, as the nerves in the most sensitive part of your body are abused by this wonderful, wonderful woman. You let out small, staccato moans, and your hands reach the flesh of your breasts, cupping them and toying with them deliciously. Abby continues the barrage on your cunt, licking up your clit as the room is filled with the sloppy sounds of sopping flesh.
You sit there, helpless but to take it, as you feel the coil inside you tightening up from the lovely tongue of your wife. You suddenly feels as though a band has snapped, and you are overcome with heavenly, internal bliss as your orgasm washes over you like a wave. Abby guides you through it, leaving soft kissing on your cunt and whispering "That's it baby, come like a good girl". Once it stops, you can feel her rising up to kiss you, her tongue rubbing yours in small circles as she lets you taste your salty tang.
"Mmm" you let out a soft giggle. "I'm so grateful I have such a caring attentive wife.", and she makes you gasp as she her fingers come up to your sensitive folds, dipping her hands into your hole and spreading your juices all over your inner thighs. You let out soft moans at the overstimulation but allow her to continue the assault on your cunt nonetheless, as she thumbs you clit gently, watching it twitch in between your legs.
"Damn right you are, baby. Wanna take this to the bedroom?" She leans into you and leaves a kiss on your ear lobe. "I'm not through with you yet." you don't reply just yet, because you know she still wants to have a go at you, and she will no matter what. You grumble a small yes at her as she picks you up bridal style and moves you to the bedroom, kicking your discarded clothes out of her way.
What could she say? Abby lives to please you, and you live to please her. And both of you are thankful for having each other to help whenever, whether that is with lunch and everything the other person needs.
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whoaah, who wrote that🤔anyways, lmk what you guys think of it and ofc send me more asks abt Abby<33
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sweetyluvs · 9 months
Note
27 with doctor! abby au please 🙏!!
𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞
abby anderson x fem! reader - drabble
sorry this literally took me a millennium.. i kept getting it wrong and having to rewrite 😭 .
anon left a second note, it read: “same anon who requested 27 with doctor abby! i forgot to add i want angst with fluff at the end if possible. thanks:)”
tags - angsty 🥀, mentions of light loneliness, relationship problems.. fluff at the end!!!
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Abby having late night shifts was nothing knew.
She was a surgeon, staying late was apart of her job. but sometimes you wished it wasn’t.
she always came back extremely exhausted, only having the strength to mutter a few ‘thank you’s’ when she eats the food you made her before she goes to sleep. resting all night and getting up at the crack of dawn. You barely see her, and when you do, it’s not for long.
you do miss her, you miss really being around her and having her eyes and attention and love on you, but with her job… it wasn’t that simple. you had your own job, yeah, you were the owner of a small bakery downtown. but you ran that business, you had employees and assistant managers to cover for when you couldn’t make it, and abby didn’t.
you sigh deeply, shutting your eyes upon the refreshing feeling of the cold air flushing out your lungs. Abby was most likely working another late shift at the Hospital. No surprise, you loved her, and her job, but she’d said she would be back by 6:30 to have the promised dinner you were thrilled to make. you’d been going on about it for weeks, asking when she would swear to be free, and she had pinky swore that this wednesday— today— would be perfect.
but, here you sat. alone at the table, your plate empty as the one across from you was full, the once warm food now cold. You weren’t angry, no, you understood. Obviously, she’d come back if she could, obviously she’d stay with you if she could. but she couldn’t. being a doctor was hard, and you understood.
You stood up, taking your plate and utensils with you to the sink. overlooking all the dishes you’d dirtied to try and perfect this dish for her. You rinsed your dishes and placed them in the dishwasher, going to gather the other ones and wash them, putting the plates, bowls, spoons and such in the washer. Your thoughts went back to the day you’d told her. she walked through the door at her usual retuning time, smiling at you when you ran up to her for a hug. You’d asked her the usuals; ‘how was your day?’ ‘anything exciting happen?’ ‘was dina as smart as she usually is?’ ‘were jesse and ellie as weird as usual?’ she’d laughed at your dumb questions, answering them as she took off her shoes and placed down her bag, walking with you to the kitchen. then, you be brought it up.
“abs, i found this super cool, almost gourmet recipe, and i thought i could make it for us to have for dinner on a night that works for you.” you offered, watching as she practically inhaled the spaghetti and meatballs you’d made for dinner. She chewed for a moment, smiling at your words. she swallowed, looking at you. “that sounds great, baby. what is it?”
“can’t tell ya! have to kill ya.” you teased, leaning on the counter and grinning at her eye roll. “okay, whatver.”
“what day works for you? i want you to actually have it free so you don’t miss the freshness of the food.” you inquired, watching as she squinted her eyes in thought. “next wednesday. some construction is going on at the hospital and me and a few others are being let of early.. around 6:30, so that’s perfect.” she replied, twisting her spoon to gather some noodles. you beamed, leaned closer “you pinky swear?.”
“i pinky swear.”
you bit your bottom lip, gnawing at the now raw flesh at the reminiscence of the memory. You always tried to be open, not upset— but you were hurt. You hadn’t actually, really had dinner with her for months.
it wasn’t her fault. you’d told yourself, knowing it wasn’t. You didn’t want to take her work schedule to heart.. but something inside you cracked every time she broke a promise. You huffed angrily, brows furrowing harshly as you aggressively scrubbed the pan you’d used. the dish had took you most of the day, calling ahead to your employees yesterday to let them know you wouldn’t be there, you spent seven hours perfecting this recipe.
even the name of the dish took you time to read. ‘Prosciutto-Wrapped Pork Tenderloin with Crispy Sage, a side of Salade Niçoise (from france) and a side dish of duchess potatoes.’
you knew abby would fall to her knees from joy upon hearing those food titles. she’d love to have it with you, and that’s why you made it. so she’d love it. but she’s not here to have it with you like she said.
before you knew it, the kitchen was clean. stepping to the dinner table, you scooped up her plate of food and nicely wrapped it in plastic wrap. taking a piece of paper from the notepad on the fridge and writing her a small note. You weren’t trying to be rude, in fact, you tried everything in you to he as kind as possible— but after being bailed on four times in the past three months, you were at the edge of a line. you put the paper on the plate, leaving it on the counter for her alongside some water before storming off to your shared bedroom— barely, shared bedroom. you made it, cleaned it, kept it tidy, rearranged it, etcetera.
tearing off your nice shirt, you tossed it to the floor. usually, you’d wear one of abby’s shirts during her night shifts, the lingering smell bringing you comfort— but now, the thought of her made you internally irk.
you took a shirt from your drawer , tossing it over your head and shoulders, sliding it on. You didn’t same with your pants, taking off the nice linen fabric and fuming as you put on crappy old shorts.
You basically threw yourself into bed, putting a pillow between your side, and abbys side of the bed. hoping she’d get the message. i mean, it’s not like she’ll have the time to talk to you about it tomorrow anyways, right?
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
abby sigh as the door to your shared apartment opened, her hand pulling out the key she’d used to unlock it. you don’t usually lock the door.
She knew she’d fucked up.
you’d been so excited for this, chatting about it and reminding her to not be late. and she was late. four hours late.
Abbys dropped her bag by the door as she usually does, sliding off her work shoes and sliding on her slippers before walking to the kitchen.
the lights were out, it was cleaned nicely. her eyes met a plate on the white marble counter, a lazily folded piece of paper on top.
She smiled lightly, knowing you’d be the kind to leave her a note. she reached for it, unfolding it.
“Hope the construction workers weren’t in your way. Enjoy.” abby’s smile fell, guilt flooded her every atom at the words. fuck.
she knew you’d be upset, she doesn’t know what she was expecting— she’d bailed on you four times, and she swore to be on time this one. but, she wasn’t.
Abby was getting ready to head out at 6:25 to be able to make it home early, the biggest grin tugged at her lips as she told all her co-workers about the meal you were preparing.
she was about to leave when an emergency was called in. It was bad, but she’d seen worse. this poor girls bone was completely shattered, a bad case of compartment syndrome. unluckily, her and mel were the only two true professionals still clocked in, leading to a four and a half hour long surgery.
by the time abby got out of the hospital, she basically ran to her car and sped home— praying that by some miracle you were still awake and waiting for her.
you weren’t.
She put the note down, eyes landing on the plate of food you’d left her.
it was beautiful.
the potatoes shaped perfectly, the prosciutto-wrapped tenderloin looked amazing; cooked to perfection, the salad beside it was also stunning.
Each course of the meal was placed individually and carefully on her plate. Abby’s stomach fell with guilt upon imagining you sitting alone, eating your meal without her.
Abby was mad at herself. not because of this single instance, but because she feels as if she’s choosing her career over you— and she would never, ever do such a thing.
Her life revolves around you, so much.. she’d been planning a little something with a ring.
but for some terrifying reason, she felt that you would refuse. why would you marry someone who you’d never be around? nausea ate at her stomach due to the thought, hoping it was only her crazy nighttime, overworked imagination.
Abby unwrapped the food, putting it in the microwave for a minute. You weren’t anywhere in sight, and so she assumed you’d gone to sleep. alone. again.
“fuck..” she murmured, regret running through her veins. She leaned on the counter, her muscular figure easily keeping her upright.
you were the love of her life— her light in the darkness, her jam to her bread, her peanut butter to her jelly— without you, she doesn’t know where she’d be, and thanks to her stupid work schedule, she’s beginning to think that’s starting to happen.
the timer went off, a loud beep ripping her from her thoughts. “oh shit— shh, shh— loud ass microwave.” she complained, taking out the food. The potatoes were now soft, the salad unfortunately warm do to being in the heat, but the rest of the meal was good temperature. Abby got a fork, quickly snagging a bite of the tenderloin. It was even better than you swore it would be. The juice of the meat flooded her mouth like the sea to the shore, accompanied with the small amount of potatoes that gathered on her fork; they were magnificent.
Abby had inhaled the meal, it being gone in a matter of inhuman minutes. She rinsed her dish, going to load it in the dishwasher— but seeing that you had ran it. she frown. you always made sure to never do that, claiming you ‘wanted to get the love she deserves, and love is definitely not having to do your own dish.’
she cleaned her dishes and walked across the house and down the hall to your shared bedroom, pushing the door open she saw you. laying on your side, hair lightly messy as it always was when you slept (she loved it.) and.. a pillow between your side and her side. she wondered what else she’d missed that you’d done.
Abby striped her pants, throwing on some sweats and a hoodie, sliding in bed beside you. She gripped the pillow and threw it so hard she was surprised it didn’t pop, and wrapped her ams around your wait.
you shuffled, grabbing her hand before it could do a full 360 and ripped it off you, harshly turning your back to her.
“babe,” she whispered softly, sadness coating her vocals.
you were reluctant, eyes snapped shut even though she knows your awake.
“I’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i really tried to be here, something unexpected came up, i swear i would have had been here.”
your silence had her itching at her skin.
“please say something.” she pleaded, her frown only deepening.
“whatever you say, abigail.”
abby grabbed the top of her head, ‘fuck’ running in her mind a thousand miles per hour. she really was in deep shit.
“i’m sorry, y/n, i don’t even think sorry can describe how sorry i am— i just, i wanted do come back, i couldn’t though. i couldn’t just leave the hospital, they needed me.” you clenched your jaw. her points were decent, great even— but you were petty.
“i’m sure they did.”
your little-word replies had abby at edge of her seat, suspense and fear building up.
“that’s all? nothing else?” she poked, confusion flooding her, anger starting to appear as well.
“yeah.”
she scoffed, sitting against the headboard. “You don’t have anything else to say? at all? i came back, yeah, i was late and i’m sorry, but—
“late?” you bit back, interrupting her. “you’ve bailed on me four times for dinner. You’ve always put your job before me, you’ve always had more time for your career— is this even working?”
those words were the ones abby feared the most. When you two began dating, she had told you about her passion, and where she worked. you found it fascinating, understanding completely. but, that was also when she used to spend genuine time with you.
“ i love you abby, i really do— but i can’t be with someone who puts a career before a person. I support your passions, and i wish nothing but the best for you, but I don’t want to be stood up by the person i’m dating anymore. fuck, abby, i took work off today to spend seven fucking hours making a meal you couldn’t even text me to say you couldn’t even show up for!” before you knew it, you’d sat up and looked at her, voice raising in a way she’d never heard.
“i know its not your choice, but you could at least find five fucking seconds to reply to my text.”
guild flooded her like a tsunami once again, a frown growing at the look on your face.
“I’m sorry.” she whispered out, watching as you sigh deeply.
“Don’t apologize, abby. it’s past that.” your reply scared her, fearing the worst; a break up. were you going to break up with her? were you going to leave her behind? she didn’t know, and she didn’t want to find out.
“how can i make it up to you?”
“i don’t even know if you can do that anymore.” you turned away, laying on your side, the pillow you’d somehow slipped between you both felt like a rock wall, each side of the bed you slept on cold; missing one another’s warmth.
abby stayed silent, internally scolding herself for being such a bad girlfriend and, frankly, not trying harder to be better.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
you woke up with a sore neck, probably from sleeping in a way you never do.
you didn’t need to look over to abby’s side of the bed to know she was gone. sitting up, you crack your once resting bones and stand up. Shuffling on your slippers, you walk to your bedroom door, twisting the cold handle and walking out.
Every morning you wake up after abby, she always kisses you goodbye before she leaves (or so she claims to.), grabs a quick bite to eat from the fridge and you are left to make breakfast for yourself. it was second nature, to wake up and immediately crack and egg or two.
but, something was off. It smelled almost.. good in the house. you ignored it, labeling it as your desperate imagination.
Your feet hobbled across the house, yawning deeply and shutting the bathroom door. looking in the mirror, you grimace. the eye bags on your face were not your strong suite, you noted.
quickly rinsing off your sleep, you brush your teeth along with your hair. each and every yawning that stole itself from your lips reminded you how much you needed your coffee. rubbing your eyes you opened the bathroom door and began your journey to the kitchen.
when you round the familiar corner, what you hadn’t expected was to see Abby in the room.
your eyes flew wide, her blonde hair was still down from sleeping, she had her glasses on and was hovering over the stove.
brows furrowing, you stepped forward. “aren’t you supposed to be at work? isn’t thursday one of the most important ones?” you genuinely ask, catching her off guard attention, her head snapping up.
the big, sweet smile that encased her beautiful lips made you feel bad for your harshness the previous night. She pushed her arms off the counter, fixing something by the stove quickly before walking over to the bar, pulling out the two chairs and revealing two sets of plates.
“Yeah— but it’s not as important as you.” Abby affirmed, a light pink coating her cheeks. You wanted to stay angry, to stay mad at her lies and broken promises. But, your ice heart thawed quickly, revealing the warmth you still posses for her.
“abby.. you didn’t have to. I know i was harsh last night but— it’s your passion, i didn’t.. actually expect you to not go.” you confessed, walking to her cautiously, as if she’d vanish from existence.
she gave you a small smile, “I know. but, i would rather be with you. I love you way more than any hobby.” Her words were the validation you’ve been craving all these months, the words you’ve been seeking to hear. You instantly complied.
“i’m glad to hear that.” you laughed, approaching her and gingerly placing a kiss to her cheek as you sat at your chair she pointed to.
“always.”
she rushed back to the stove, flipping over whatever had been on their previously before motioning for you to give her your plate. you obliged, handing it to her.
“I love you, baby. I always will and.. even though i’m not a baker, i tried to make you those pancakes you like so much.” oh did her words make you fall for her all over again. “you didn’t have to, abs.” you grinned, ear to ear. something abby hadn’t seen you do since.. since a while.
“i did. i hope you like them.” she placed the plate in front of you, beautiful, fluffy pancakes alongside fresh bacon and eggs with syrup drizzled over them placed nicely on the dish.
“wow! abby, you might want to reconsider your career and come work for me.” you joked, smiling wildly at the wholehearted laugh she let out.
“who knows, maybe i will.”
you rolled your eyes, cutting a piece of the pancake and dipping it in the puddled syrup.
your eyes widened, “mhm!” you expressed, eyes shutting in satisfaction.
although abby was a very high ranked doctor, she was still nervous to get her professional baker girlfriends opinion on first time pancakes.
“Abigail, you are a natural.”
“only for you, babe.”
she put food on her own plate, turning off the stove and coming to sit beside you.
“I’m going to call my supervisor and ask for some more free hours from now on. So i can start to have breakfast and dinner with you. and maybe a couple free days, too.” abby announced, causing your heart to beat happily.
“that makes me so unbelievably happy, abby. you deserve it.”
you kissed her cheek, syrup sticking from your lips to her skin. you laughed, and she did too.
“I love you. more than anything.” you said, chewing softly. she wiped some food from your face, a loving smile tracing her features.
“i love you more.”
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gyuslcve · 10 months
Note
hello sweetheart! any thoughts of wonwoo's way to kiss? like- chaste kisses, butterfly, or juicy kisses?
anw i love the vibe that radiates from this blog <3
- 🥞 (can i be ur pancake anon, tho?)
wonwoo’s kisses
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genre: fluff, swoon worthy content :(
rq: by my pancake anon <33
word count: 242
reblogs, comments and feedback are appreciated !
notes: hi anon <3 and yes u can!! i have lowkey been waiting for this cause i’ve been dying to talk about this hehe
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WONWOO’S KISSES
wonwoo’s kisses are slow and intimate.
as much as he loves being all over you, he’s gentle with you and there is no rush whatsoever. his kisses are nothing too crazy, but rather slow and tender.
wonwoo doesn’t mind who initiates the kiss, and somehow you end up on his lap somewhere during. he holds you so, so close to him, closing any distance between the two of you: with one hand rested on your back, securing you in his arms. he kisses your forehead, your nose and then your lips. wonwoo wants you to feel loved and safe.
his other hand is either cupping your jaw to gradually deepen the kiss with his thumb lightly brushing your cheeks, or at the back of your head, giving you all the sense of security you need.
he is so careful with you - noticing any signs of uncomfiness and he checks up on you right away. similarly, he always makes sure you’re comfy, whether it’d be straddling his lap or just simply in a hug. he kisses you so softly that it makes your impatience grow - yet you feel safe and secure.
wonwoo always, always asks before he does anything. even if his desire and affection for you is urging to take over him. he is not doing anything you don’t feel comfortable with. “is this okay?” “are you okay with this, love?”
wonwoo’s kisses are soft, gentle and never rushed. and they’re only for you.
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author’s notes: reblogs, comments or any constructive feedback is appreciated <3 also my pancake anon ur request is the rq we never knew we needed!!! NOT ALL HEROES WEAR CAPES🤞🏻i was going all delulu while writing this😭 thank u anon and i hope u enjoy this <3
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tojipie · 6 months
Note
hi there!! love you truck driver toji series and i was wondering how he would react to you music by yourself? instead of listening to whatever he has playing y/n just ends up opting for playing music on their phone with earphones? would love to see your take on the situation :3 thank u and have a good day!!
ur so sweet thank u anon :(( this is an old draft from the summer (oopsie) hopefully you see this! mwah
truck driver toji series here
warnings: none!
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autumn trees zip by in your peripheral like fireworks, their red and yellow leaves just starting to wilt in the midst of autumn.
you’d begged toji to take the scenic route this time, wanting to see the foliage before winter got a chance to set in. it was your second job of the month together, and one of your last before he’d be able to take days off.
the last two weeks had been spent lugging construction material from one coast to another, spending every moment together in the head of the truck as your anniversary neared.
you’d been secretly planning to get him something for the big day, although you’ll admit your past ideas hadn’t really been compatible with how often the two of you were away from home.
toji’s phone is plugged into the aux, his head nodding along to the beat of a song the two of you both loved.
if you played your cards right you might be able to finalize your gift today.
you hum along for a bit, stuck on autopilot as you grab your headphones from the center console and decide to pull up a podcast on gift-giving.
toji shifts a little, eyeing you with curiosity.
your head leans to rest against the cold glass of the passenger window, feeling the bumps and turns of the road reverberate in your skull.
“do you not like my music?” he asks, voice a little softer than usual.
you take out one of your earbuds, confused.
“what?”
“is— like do you not...” he pauses, not sure how to communicate his feelings over something so small.
your attention is drawn to the rhythmic tapping of his thumb against the steering wheel, a habit that came up when he was nervous.
“you can always change the song if you want.” he offers, voice even softer somehow.
you laugh adoringly, watching his eyebrows raise at your odd reaction.
“you know i love your music.” you tell him, feeling him finally relax as your press a kiss to his shoulder.
toji unhooks the aux and plugs it into your phone instead, finally realizing what was up at the title of the podcast is pasted onto the radio screen.
“ah shit.” he laughs, rubbing your side as an apology.
“hey i mean don’t let me stop you.” your boyfriend jokes, turning the volume up and pressing play on the touch screen.
“i win though.” he starts, smiling at your look of confusion.
“cause’ i’ve been storing your gift at home for a month.” he cackles triumphantly, blocking your hand as you swat at him.
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liesmyth · 4 days
Note
I'm always thinking about how G— was an engineer. A damn good one: the sole engineer of the cryo project, good enough that of all the ten billion, the FTL project chose him to inspect their work, back when the project was still a pipe dream. He was a man from an immigrant family in an underprivileged area who became arguably the world's best engineer, which is impressive in its own right, but it gets me thinking... Pre-Resurrection, John says they can't grow food on Mars (and for all John's unreliability, that's pretty believable, given that the high perchlorate concentration in Martian soil is one of the big obstacles to carrying out a sustained Mars mission), and as silly as this might sound, the engineer and scientist divide is real, and of all the nerds that John resurrected, I can't imagine it was the artist or the contract lawyer or the medical and chemistry experts that made the Mars installation viable. Gideon made a House out of it, and one that accepts recruits from across the Dominican system! "Saint of Duty" is said to fit him, evident in his loyalty and commitment to the Cohort and fighting the Resurrection Beasts, but I have to wonder, how much of that was his commitment to making shit work? I can't shake the image of a couple million people awaking to a ruined world, and someone had to get the other Houses settled, figure out spacecraft and space habitats using what little supplies they have left, and what better candidate for that than the man who canonically engineered spacecraft twice?
ANON I love this so much. You're SO right, and you put into words something about G1deon and John's shared background that I've tried to articulate for a while. In the very first chapter, John says, "It wasn’t that they didn’t have the money for a bigger team; we were simply the only ones capable of what they were asking."
This was an incredibly elite team. They were a brilliant bunch of hyperspecialised nerds. And, like, among John's squad, A- and M- and everyone else started out as colleagues — very smart people he probably met in academic circles, where being smart was kind of a prerequisite. It was their research that brought them together to begin with.
G1deon, though! He was John's friend growing up. John knew his grandparents. They spotted each other spare changes for snacks!! Then John went on to Dilworth, then to university and then overseas, and G1deon had his own (probably different) academic path, and maybe they only stayed vaguely in touch, but when it was time to look for an engineer that could help them build spaceships constructed to provide life support to the whole of humanity for centuries — and G1deon was the guy for that.
The fact that two boys from similar underprivileged backgrounds individually made huge breakthroughs in their chosen fields, and got to work together on a project that was meant to save the world... I bet at the time it felt like a miraculous coincidence. I think they thought, if they'd made it that far, that they could do anything.
(yet another layer to the tragedy of what happened etc etc. G1deon torn between John and P—. John stopping G1deon's heart)
Thank you so much for all your thoughts about the Mars space installation, also — I wonder how long there was between Mars becoming the Second House (founded by G1deon! he and Pyrrha did the bulk of the work!) and the institution of the Third House, which doesn't have a named founder and might very well have been a shared project built on the blueprint of what G1deon set up. "the man who canonically engineered spacecraft twice" — my god I love this so much. It's G1deon emo hours today
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Paring: jeonghan x you
Requested: yes [Can you please write something angsty for prince DK? Or if this is too vague, what do you think about a bet au with Jeonghan?] [By anon]
Genre: angst, coworkers to lovers, fluff, fuckboy au, opposites au, bet au
Warning(s): misogyny, jeonghan is an asshole and so is seungcheol, [if you find more pls inform ]
Summary: Jeonghan had plans on never talking to the quite coworker they hired, but like doesn't always pan out the way we want to. But when you add money to the problem, plus both your feelings, you have the perfect recipe for disaster.
Word count: 5.2k
Other works
disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.
a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask. Plus, if you loved it enough don't forget to reblog, it will help me reach a larger audience.
a/n 2: i hope it was what you wanted, thanks for the ask btw!
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Everyone at the office knew that Jeonghan was a free spirit, he worked hard and partied even harder. He like living his life in the most happening way possible. Be it weekend trips, bike trips to the mountains or staying in the countryside for a week and working remote while enjoying the serenity that comes with it, he was down for anything.
Funnily enough he was referred to as the least energetic person in his friend group. So, one can imagine overzealous they normally were.
His work more often than not was impeccable, no one could fault him at all. The rising star of the corporate world they called him at the office. In his five years at the job the man had garnered more approval than anyone else.
He liked his life, and he would not trade it for anything else.
Now, unlike Jeonghan you resided on the other side of the spectrum. Your kind of life was pretty monotonous waking up before your alarm, making your bed, skipping meals, and surviving on coffee, reaching, and leaving work on the dot and crying while rewatching your favorite shows, was your kind of life. You like staying in during the weekends and cleaning up the mess you make in your living space during the weekdays and trying everything in your power to not upset your cat while doing so.
Its calm, chill, maybe a bit boring but it worked for you and brought you peace.
You were the newest recruit in your office and from the first day you captured the attention of most of your coworkers for your meticulous and polite words.
More often than not you refuse to talk to your coworkers ensuring that there stays a professional boundary between you all and if they would not catch onto your behavior, you would politely decline them.
Never that interested in networking, you refuse to talk to more people than you need to.
Jeonghan caught onto it pretty early, but why did it matter to him what you did, so like everyone else he went on his own way and simply chose to ignore you.
Ten months into your new job was when you first had a real conversation with the man. It was pretty late at night, both of you had to stay back for overtime. That was when you saw him struggling with his presentation for the next day’s meeting.
That day you broke the ‘no talking to my coworkers rule unless and until it’s very important’ rule.
“what’s the problem?” you politely asked the man.
“Oh, I am having slight problem with the numbers here,” the man replies looking visibly confused and surprised.
“If you want, I can help you out” you kindly stated as Jeonghan casually just turned his laptop towards you.
So, for the next one and half hours you both sat there and diligently worked on the presentation and by the end of it the material looked rather good and presentation worthy.
Looking extremely grateful the pretty man said, “I am so thankful you helped me out today, so why don’t I repay you by dropping you off at your house, it’s pretty late you know.”
Looking at your watch you politely replied, “no worries, plus if I rush a bit, I can catch the last bus home so please don’t bother.”
Jeonghan looked bummed at this, but he was obliged nonetheless as he knew you to be an introverted lady and he did not want to make you uncomfortable.
--
The next time you and Jeonghan had a conversation, was again at a night when you both were staying at the office over time. By this time, you have become pretty comfortable with each other, not enough to hold a conversation but enough to spare a quick nod and a smile while passing by each other’s cubicles.
He was done with the day’s work and was about to leave the office when he noticed you hunched over your laptop looking frustratingly at your screen which showed you an open excel sheet with infinite numbers.
Feeling like he owed you the help, Jeonghan strode towards you and calmly said “let me see.”
Jumping in shock you looked at him and replied, “oh no don’t bother I can figure it out you should go home it’s pretty late you know.”
Tsking at your reply he grabbed a chair to sit beside you while saying “it’s only fair, you helped me out so I should help you now.”
You let him, in actuality you needed that little help from him, the data entries were annoying you and you absolutely did not like it one bit.
Just like that time passed by again resulting in the clock to show that it was quarter past one by the time you both were done.
This time though Jeonghan shut down all your protests to go about his own way and your reluctance to inconvenience him with a simple “it’s pretty late and I won’t let you get followed by some creeps on the road plus the last bus is gone anyways so you are coming with me.”
On the way he stopped at a convenience store to get some dinner for you both and you devoured your ramen while chatting with him.
You both were pretty similar, in some cases for example you both had this extreme love for Legos that existed beyond measurable amounts, both of you loved your pets to death, albeit his was a rock and yours was a cat, but as he said “we don’t discriminate peoples pets here, they can have what they want to but given its legal and safe for the pet.”
On the other hand, Jeonghan liked you too, he was happy he could be the first one to break your shell to meet the real you and he was proud of this. It was close to an achievement for him.
--
“Han like this new chick in his office.”
Joshua loudly announced to the group of boys sprawled in his living room one evening. Jeonghan’s friends had come to his house to hang out and to get drunk out of their wits to forget the stress of the tedious weekend they had. They were all friends from college, now working jobs in the most contrasting industries ever like Seungcheol was the manager for their states football club and Soonyoung was a choreographer working with famous celebrities, Hansol on the other hand was the proud of a pet shelter and the one and only Joshua was an English history professor who most days worked overtime at the university. But at the end of the day, they were all the loud and obnoxious assholes he knew and loved from his younger days, and nothing could compare to that.
“Really you never told us about this one hyung?” Mingyu enquires.
“Nah she is just a new hire at the office, does not like talking to people at all. She is more antisocial than Wonwoo’s ass.”
“Really now, antisocial?” Seungcheol enquires, not missing Jeonghan’s defensive tone.
“Yes, Cheol antisocial, plus I don’t even know her enough,” the male says while rolling his eyes at his friends interest with you.
“Maybe you could talk to her and get her out of her shell, you are a pretty good mediator in our group I think you could do that,” pipes up the ever so benevolent Seokmin.
“Yes, you could,” Seungcheol joins him smirking a bit.
Now thoroughly annoyed Jeonghan exclaims “no I cannot. The only way someone can get that stuck up bitch out of her shell will be fucking her or something and I do not want to do so!”
“What if I pay you, will you do it then,” Seungcheol says still smirking.
“Do what?”
“Fuck her enough to get her out of her shell.”
The whole room goes silent at that statement.
“Hyung, I don’t think it’s right,” the youngest of them, Chan, suddenly speaks.
“Yes, its morally incorrect man,” Jeonghan agrees.
“I will pay you, plus life is pretty boring. This will give us something to talk about for at least the next year,” the oldest explains still smiling a bit.
“I agree with the others, its emotionally taxing and nothing good will come out of doing something like this man, plus what are we teenagers making bets about emotionally harming others?” Joshua says.
“Jeonghan, you do it and I will give you a thousand bucks,” the oldest says calmly. At the same time all the men in the room let out an exasperated sigh, knowing there is no winning with this stubborn man, while hoping silently that Jeonghan does not succumb to the greed.
But alas they were wrong, so wrong. An amount that lucrative will only be passed by a fool and Jeonghan was no such thing. He stood up from his place at the loveseat and confidently strode over to Seungcheol.
“You better keep your fucking word,” he says while shaking the older man’s hand.
While Seungcheol smiles and says, “you know what you complete the bet within the next six month I’ll give you a five thousand and if you don’t end up doing it, you gotta pay me pal.”
--
After that evening with his friends, Jeonghan was pretty stressed, because why should he not be? Making you sleep with him is hard enough, but making a situationship out of it sounds even harder. Now he thoroughly regrets accepting the bet.
You on the other hand are pretty happy and quiet as you often are. Very much unaware of his internal turmoil, as you keep talking excitedly about the new Lego death star you bought.
Yes, you and Jeonghan have bonded quite a bit these past few days, he likes spending time with you too, and so do you. It is a nice and comfortable friendship you both have built, and you like it.
“Why don’t you let me come to your place this weekend, and we can build the set together. We can get takeout later too,” he suddenly speaks up shocking you with such forward proposition.
“Well only if you want to though no pressure, it’s just that I really wanted to build the death star and was planning to buy it but like couldn’t make enough time to do –”
“Sure, you can come,” you speak up stopping his nervous rant.
“Are you sure?” Jeonghan asks just to make sure he heard it correctly.
“Yes, I am, it will be fun to build the Lego set together,” you say smiling.
“Yes, it would be, but like are you really sure,” he says again to make sure he is really not hard at hearing.
“Jeonghan if you ask me once again, I will take back what I just said.”
This makes him stop talking at all and he proceeds to show you his beautiful smile, making you feel a bit giddy inside.
“So, I will come this Saturday and we shall make the death star cuz we can,” he sings, making you bark out a laugh at him.
Little do you know you just poured a cool bucket of water on the burning flames on anxiety inside Jeonghan’s brain and he is extremely happy about that.
--
The next Saturday comes rolls in slowly, the tedious and boring week is over, and it is time for self-care and a lot of friendship building activities or that’s what you thought.
The man was mad and when you say mad you mean it. The Lego making only lasted for like two hours before he had hidden all the pieces of the part that you were making, resulting you to search for them all over the house. Moreover, after diligently searching and finding nothing, you had given up when he had produced all those pieces from his pockets shocking you to the core.
This little stunt had made you force him to pay for the takeout and when you were both fed and watered, he had proposed a game of chess. Only problem, you never knew one could cheat in this game too. He moved the pieces wrong.
Result. You both had the pettiest fight ever wherein the man with all his might tried to convince you that the rook was indeed supposed to move diagonally.
“You don’t understand, that is how the game is played. Are you sure you ever played this before?” he had asked.
“Hani you are wrong, please the rook never in its whole life moved diagonally, it always moved straight.”
“Maybe that is what your problem is, you are so uptight, you refuse to accept the differences in our opinions!”
“Oh, now I'm uptight, you are only being this difficult cuz you are losing!”
“I wouldn’t if you let me play the rook diagonally.”
“But that is not how it is played! Why don’t you—"
All your rants stop just like that, it took you at least five business days to actually realize that Jeonghan had kissed you. But once you got over that shock, you closed your eyes and moved your lips along with his.
Jeonghan, thoroughly exasperated by your intense argument, impulsively sought to quiet you by placing a soft, lingering kiss on your plump lips. Almost immediately, regret washed over him as he feared he had acted rashly at the worst possible moment. Mentally preparing to distance himself from you for the rest of your time together, he was taken aback when you reciprocated the kiss, instantly dissolving all his worries and leaving him pleasantly surprised.
You broke the kiss to take a breath, both looking visibly flustered.
“Do you want to stay the night, or do you want to go?” you asked him while looking at him with your sparkling eyes, making Jeonghan want to glue his ass to your house, but he being the gentleman he was declined the offer.
“I would really like to take you out on a date. As I really like you, so I won’t spoil my chances with you by staying tonight.”
To say you were surprised would be an understatement. You always thought of the man to be a Casanova, so the idea of him taking you on a date while simultaneously insinuating that he won’t take any harsh steps with you was a nice little change and you were all for it.
--
It was all smooth sailing after that.
Jeonghan took you to an amusement park for the date next Sunday and oh boy did you enjoy yourself to the fullest.
Both of you had the time of your lives. Making sure to go on every ride, play every game and eating every junk you found there. By the end of it you were visibly exhausted and elated with how the day went.
The following day you were visibly happier in the office and even had a small conversation with one of your coworkers.
This went on for the following month, with each and every date you opened up to Jeonghan more and more, and so did he.
He loved spending time with you and vice versa. It was during your regular Friday movie nights, a ritual you both had established as you both liked watching movies and bonded while talking about them, when Jeonghan absolutely bored with the movie scooted a bit too close to you in hopes of gaining your attention by annoying you, a typical Jeonghan move. When you both ended up making love on the couch.
This was only the start of a lot of escapades you would have with the man.
After that one night, Jeonghan was all over you at all times. Be it at the office or be it at home he was with you or texting you all the time. Your nights were now filled with heavy make outs and intense love making sessions.
Everybody at the office knew about you both. On top of that you were more extroverted than ever. You even went out with your coworkers for an office dinner. Somehow, Jeonghan was praised for the change he brought in you, and like his ‘kind’ self, he declined all those compliments with a gracious smile.
He didn’t like to say it out loud, but he liked your changed self, more than your reserved one. Plus, he also took credit for the change, but it’s not like he would tell you that anytime soon.
--
 It was almost five months into dating Jeonghan, when he asked you to meet his friends. You knew he had a very loyal group of friends and you had never met them before. On the contrary Jeonghan had met your one and only best friend within only three months of dating. In the most best friend manner, the lady has hated his ass the whole-time side eyeing him constantly and leaving petty remarks here and there. But that night she had called you and told you something she didn’t ever say for any of your boyfriends “I can see he loves you a lot. For the first time you chose the correct guy.”
Getting your strict best friend to like Jeonghan was like clearing the first hurdle of your relation. For the first time, you were proud of your choice in men and especially your boyfriend.
“Oh, I would love to meet them, but would they like me,” you were rightfully concerned about the boys liking you. As much as you were independent, you would like to gain the approval of your boyfriend’s friends like any girlfriend.
“They are dorks through and through, they will love, don’t worry” he had said while kissing your forehead to calm you down.
“Plus, you will fit right in, they are nice people,” he later added.
--
That evening, Jeonghan had taken you to the Korean BBQ place downtown where they all were meeting. The night had started rocky but within an hour you were having fun with Mingyu and Seokmin, all worries forgotten. Jeonghan had looked at you with pride blooming in his chest with how happy you looked with his friends, enjoying yourself.
It seems that all the twelve of them had liked you a lot saying you were the perfect partner for Jeonghan, someone who could ground him at the same time let him be himself.
The BBQ party came to an end, but the boys still had a lot of energy, so they went to the karaoke next taking both you and Jeonghan with them. Although you were thoroughly exhausted, you had complied to go, seeing Jeonghan have so much fun was a sight you didn’t want to miss.
You had gone to the bathroom the first thing right after reaching the karaoke place, to wake you up and also to do your business. Seungkwan had accompanied you claiming, “all that soju and walking has made my bladder shake like never before!” it’s not a lie though, they did drink like it will be the last time they ever get to drink.
As you came out of the restroom, Seungkwan gave you a kind smile and said “I have never seen Jeonghan this happy before, not even with us. I'm sure he likes you a lot.”
Smiling at him you said, “I think I love him; I have not said that to him yet, but I really think I do.”
With a sassy ‘good for you’ from the one and only Boo, you both made your way to the room that your group had booked.
As you reached closer, you could hear all the boys talking to each other.
“I approve, she is an angel, she even consoled Soon when he cried” said one of them making you smile a bit. By this time Seungkwan had stopped with you too eavesdropping on his friends as he is as dramatic as one can be.
“She is nothing like what you described her to be you know, she is nice and kind and far from being stuck up,” someone else said.
“Nah she is not, that stuck up once you get to know her, contrary to that she is very cheery and I like her you know,” Jeonghan had replied making you feel extra giddy inside.
“Hey bro if you like her that much maybe we should call off the deal we made, I see how much you like her and if you ask me, I will say she is a keeper,” with this statement, a silence washed over the whole group. You looked at Seungkwan to understand what was happening, but the man refused to look at you still stubbornly pretending to listen to the conversation.
“I said I like her, not like her enough to let go of the five thousand you offered” you suddenly heard Jeonghan speak making you even more confused about the whole ordeal.
“I think you will regret it you let her go hyung,” Seokmin suddenly said with a very somber tone generating a lot of assertive noises from the group.
“She won’t bring me five thousand, plus I fucked her got into a relationship with her and made her the fun-loving bitch she is now. It was a tedious process, but I completed my work, so I deserve the money.”
It was hard hearing the man you loved so much make such a degrading comment. At this point you were shaking with emotions so much that even Seungkwan who refused to look at you during this whole time, had to hold you steady.
“Did you know about this,” you asked him.
The boy with his eyes downcast just nodded his head.
“I won’t even ask you why you didn’t tell me about it, I get it you are his friend makes sense.”
“Hey none of us wanted him to do anything like this, but your Jeonghan is unstoppable sometimes and about the wrong things.”
“I think I should get going, I’ve heard enough.”
“Hey y/n we like you a lot, so please stay in contact with us later, no matter what your verdict is,” the younger man pleaded with glistening eyes, making you almost accept the request out of pity.
You ignored everyone and strode into the room bustling with men, heading straight for the couch. Without hesitation, you grabbed your bag and, as you walked out, approached Jeonghan and delivered a firm slap to his face. "We're done," you declared before exiting the room without glancing at anyone else.
--
The minute you had left, Jeonghan felt his life crashing down on him. The looks of disapproval from his friends and the pure disappointment that radiated off you caught him off guard. He had thought he could get out of it with both the girl and the money, but suddenly he realized he didn’t even need the said money, he only needed you. The weight of his words came to haunt me as soon as he had spoken them.
He immediately attempted to follow you but was stopped by Seungkwan, “did you see her face, if you follow her now, she will resent you more. Not like you don’t deserve it, but you are still my friend.”
The tone of his voice showed how much he was upset with Jeonghan. So much so that the younger male could not even look at his face.
“You are my hyung, but you know what I like her more, never have I ever thought you would do something like this,” he continued, “I hope she never forgives you.”  
Hearing that Jeonghan couldn’t control himself and punched Seungkwan and a fight broke out. The boys trying their best to resolve it.
“It’s already a mess, can you both stop making it worse!” Mingyu said as Seungkwan punched Jeonghan back square on the jaw.
“Tell that shit to not meddle in my business then” comes Jeonghan’s voice.
“Maybe if you didn’t break her heart I wouldn’t, she was a fucking nice person,” Seungkwan shouted back as Mingyu dragged him out.
The night was ruined, and it was all because of Jeonghan.
--
That night you came home and cried your heart out ignoring all the calls from Jeonghan and the other boys, with whom you had exchanged numbers during the hangout. Thankfully, it was a Sunday the next day, so you didn’t have to look at the man who broke your heart, but it pained you so much to even move a muscle. It was like your heart was ripped out of your body. The pain was immeasurable.
There were at least a hundred missed calls on your phone and thirty of them from all of the boys. Your best friend come to your place that Sunday and tried her best to console a sad you, but nothing could stop you from beating yourself up for trusting a man like him. it’s true you loved him, and you regrated doing so, you didn’t blame Jeonghan for breaking your heart, you blamed yourself for being weak enough for you to let Jeonghan do so to you, for letting the man step all over you like you were a piece of trash that had no place in the normal world. The degrading things that he had said about you kept echoing in your ears, making it hard for you to think of anything else.
It was like you had forgotten all about your vow to never let anyone step over you and take away a piece of you from yourself. You were so hurt that you refused to see Jeonghan at all. So, on the next Monday you asked your HR for a weeklong leave and the kind lady obliged owing to your stellar performance at your department.
You turned off your phone that week and went to stay with you friend as the house was too lonely for you and the more you stayed there, the more you felt the memories of you and Jeonghan coming to haunt you.
--
On that Monday, Jeonghan woke up with a newfound determination. He was resolved to confront you and explain that his hurtful words from that night stemmed from his own inability to accept his feelings. He believed that once he clarified his side of the story, your compassionate nature would lead you to forgive him. He was even prepared to humble himself, willing to beg for your forgiveness if necessary. However, fate intervened when he discovered you had taken a week-long leave from the office.
The realization of consequences hit him suddenly. Yes, he understood the gravity of his actions, but he was willing to face any repercussions if it meant having you back in his arms. Anything seemed bearable compared to the thought of losing you.
By Wednesday, Jeonghan found himself standing at your doorstep, desperately knocking, hoping to speak with you. To his dismay, a neighbor informed him that you had been absent since Monday. His heart sank realizing he had missed his chance to reconcile with you.
He had made a solemn vow to himself that he would reach out to you no matter what obstacles lay in his path, willing to go to any lengths to make amends. However, he now realized the depth of his mistake. Reflecting on his actions, he understood that he should have heeded the advice of his friends earlier, but it was too late for regrets.
Jeonghan's determination to win you back consumed him. He felt a deep pang of regret for not acting sooner and for failing to appreciate the warnings from his friends. Now, facing the reality of your absence, he grappled with the weight of his impulsive behavior.
In the days that followed, Jeonghan resolved to wait patiently for your return, determined to seize any opportunity to make things right. He hoped against hope that he hadn't irreparably damaged the bond between you. Each passing day without you served as a sobering reminder of the importance of listening to his instincts and valuing the counsel of those who cared about him.
--
The next week you opened your phone to see it has blown up with Jeonghan’s messages and there were a few from Seungkwan asking you if you are okay and telling you that he had punched Jeonghan for being an asshole to you and that most of the people didn’t agree with Jeonghan’s antics but its hard to stop Jeonghan when is like that.
Taking pity of the boy you and answered him accepting his apology and telling him you were happy that he punched the guy.
His answer came immediately, saying he was happy that there is no bad blood among you two and he prefers you more than Jeonghan anyways making you laugh at his cuteness.
When you returned back to the office, the first thing you did was hand them your resignation letter. The next thing on your list was avoid Jeonghan till you leave work, at which you were pretty successful.
And just like that you were done with your time in the office and were moving onto another job before Jeonghan could even get hold of you.
--
Its has been three years since and life had never been better. You became friends with Seungkwan, Seokmin and Soonyoung immediately. You four hangout quite frequently. The three younger men like you a lot too. It’s a strong bond you have created with them. If anyone asks you would say the only good thing that came from your ex was the friends you made while with him.
On top of that you also have been in a relation with a man who treats you right and loves you to death. Its like you have at last reached the light at the end of the tunnel.
--
Jeonghan on the other hand drowned himself in work after you left, the man tried his best to forget your existence and was very thankful his work helped him do so. But whenever he was out with his friends he couldn’t stop himself from asking about you and always he got the same answer of ‘none of your fucking business’ from Seungkwan.
But it was different this time, it was the ever so kind Seokmin who answered him.
“Hyung she moved on, and you should too.” Hearing that he stood up, he didn’t know why. Would he go to your house and beg for your forgiveness again or will he call you while asking you to give him another chance?
Truth to be told, he didn’t know.
“Hyung please don’t mess this up for her. She is happy,” Seokmin spoke up again, kindly holding his hand to pull him down back onto his seat. It felt like Jeonghan’s life has come crashing down on him once again. One lone tear left his eye, too embarrassed to cry in front of his friends, he puts up a happy front while saying “of course Seok, I would do nothing to hurt her.”
All his friends looked at the man in pity, hoping that faith was kinder to him. but they couldn’t deny that he single handedly destroyed his life either. He was still their friend and he deserved to be happy to but so did you. The man sat in silence for some time till Joshua loudly declared he wanted to go to the arcade and all the others enthusiastically agreed, happy about the distraction.
That is when Jeonghan realized life has gone on and not stopped for anyone, the time he was supposed to seize his moment has passed and it wont ever come back. He now has to live his life without the presence of one of the most precious thing he ever had the privilege to possess, your love.
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a/n 3: thank you all for reading !!
161 notes · View notes
nikitunez · 1 year
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ζ  ゜✿ 。𝙀𝙉𝙃𝙔𝙋𝙀𝙉'𝙎 𝙁𝘼𝙑𝙊𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙈𝙎 𝙊𝙁 𝘼𝙁𝙁𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 𖥧 𓂃  ᨒ  ୫
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ຊ pairing : enhypen x gn!reader ຊ genre : fluff, headcanon ຊ words : 434 ຊ contains : hugging, kissing, mentions of food ຊ maya's notes : thank you anon for requesting this! i loved writing it! it kinda did turn into a preferred love langues thingy in the middle but i wanted to make each member's hc as unique as possible lol 😭 please leave feedback and reblog if you enjoyed it! i would really love to know how everyone found it hehe ❤ if you would like to read more from me, my taglist and requests are open as well! but that's all for now, enjoy reading :)
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𝙃𝙀𝙀𝙎𝙀𝙐𝙉𝙂 : honestly, he loves literally any kind of physical affection. but to name a few, there is running your fingers through his hair, giving him tight hugs as well as cheek and forehead kisses, saying i love you, and finally complimenting him for little successes like winning a game or making some good ramen.
𝙅𝘼𝙔 : he's kinda a high maintenance boyfriend and loves when you buy him gifts. it doesn't matter if they're cheap or expensive because for him, everything you gift him is priceless. the gifts could be anything from clothes to food to a short little trip to some nearby town.
𝙅𝘼𝙆𝙀 : if jay is a materialistically high maintenance boyfriend, this boy is high maintenance in every other department. i'm talking words of affirmation and physical affection and kind gestures. give him everything and he's a happy boy. but more specifically just remember to kiss his lips and tell him that you love him every thirty minutes if you can.
𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉 : more than cuddling with him or giving him kisses just make him a large cup of delicious hot chocolate and i promise you he will get down on one knee and ask you to marry him right then and there. but he also really likes when you offer to wash his hair for him for no reason because it's such a silly yet soothing thing to do.
𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙊𝙊 : who needs a massage chair when you exist? he loves when you sense that he's tense and wordlessly start soothing his muscles. for starters, it feels so amazing and relaxing. but also, he realizes how much you care about him and how intuitive you are when it comes to him and all of those emotions just make him feel so grateful to have you.
𝙅𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙒𝙊𝙉 : just hold his hand and watch as his eyes fill with love. he likes the way your hands fit together so perfectly, and you don't have to be walking somewhere for him to want you to hold his hand. that and whenever you poke or kiss his cheeks. he swears he hates it but deep down it makes him all warm and fuzzy inside.
𝙉𝙄-𝙆𝙄 : back hugs. make him feel like he's in a kdrama and he will cherish you for life. also whenever you push his hair out of his eyes for him. the way you smile at him when he meets your eye makes his heart skip a beat. he also likes when you feed him. whenever you're eating together, you construct the perfect bite for him and hold your palm under his cheek while asking him to open wide. he loves it.
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© nikitunez
2K notes · View notes
monzabee · 8 months
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a not so meet cute – cl16
paper rings, prologue(?)
masterlist || series masterlist ||
Summary: The one where Charles meets his neighbour, who quickly captures his attention.
Pairing: charles leclerc x reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: none other than charles being charles, also might have some cursing, google translate french
Request: “Hii if you’re taking requests could you please write a fic for Charles where he’s your best friend and he asks you to fake date him because he think he likes another girl so he wants to make her notice him/make her jealous kind of thing and you agree even though you love him and during the fake dating he realises that he loves you too and yeah angst fluff and all but a happy ending .If you decide to write this tysm and incase you don’t feel like writing this that’s cool too thanks either way ❤️”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! although i am still working on the first chapter of this new series, i wanted to write a little something for you guys to introduce you to the world i had in mind! i know it was not on the wip schedule, but the inspiration struck so i decided to go with it. ever since i saw the wedding pictures of margaret qualley and jack antonoff, the only thing i've been thinking of was the song, and i though it was the perfect song for the characters i had in mind. so, welcome to the new series, inspired by the request above, so thank you for the anon who put the idea in my mind to create this whole series, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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August, 2017
He met Margaret on our rooftop, she was wearing white And he was like, "I might be in trouble"
Charles loves his country, he really does. He’s always been patriotic of some sorts, he supposes. But the one thing he absolutely loathes about Monaco? The heat, no questions asked. The worst part isn’t even the heat itself, per se, it is the fact that his apartment has no elevator and he has to walk up five stories just to make it to his apartment – in the heat. So yeah, even though he is as patriotic of a Monégasque as they come, he definitely wishes he was somewhere else at the moment. When he does make to his floor, however, he’s met with a rather peculiar view, where his new neighbour is yelling at someone on the phone.
“No, I said I wanted the granite counters,” the person specify, fingers clutching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “No!” The man straight up yells, “Ceux en granit, connard, pas ceux en graphite. I don’t think they even come in graphite!”
Deciding to remain silent as he makes his way towards his own apartment, Charles ignores the man standing in front of the apartment opposite of his. Though, he realises that the apartment’s door is open and there is construction going on inside, which explains the drilling sounds he’s been hearing early in the morning and the smell of fresh paint that never seems to leave the shared floor.
Side-eyeing the whole ordeal, he manages to make it to his apartment without attracting the attention of the man – or so he thinks. Just as he’s about to unlock his front door, he feels a pat on his shoulder. As he turns towards the man, there is a curious look on his face, “Hi?”
“Hello,” the man greets, “do you know how i can contact the superintendent?”
For reasons unknown (extreme hangover), Charles’ brain decides to blank out, “Quoi?”
“Le commissaire,” the man clarifies, “savez-vous comment je peux les contacter?” And Charles realises he would have been impressed with the man’s accent if he wasn’t so hangover from the night before. The superintendent, do you know how I can contact them?
“Ah,” Charles nods in understanding, “sure, let me give you his number.”
After the man saves the number he gives to his phone, he extends his hand in a friendly greeting. “I owe you one, I’m Declan, by the way. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Charles,” he responds with, what he hopes to be, a friendly smile. Motioning the apartment behind them, he asks, “Are you my new neighbour?”
“Oh, no, no,” Declan laughs, and it’s a warm, almost infectious laugh. It reminds Charles of– well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Declan’s voice draws him back to the conversation, “My sister is, I’m renovating it for her.”
Charles nods in understanding, “Ah, I see. I’ve never seen her around, I don’t think.”
“Well that’d be because she’s as annoying as little sisters come,” Declan laughs again, and this time it manages to get a smile out of Charles. “You know what? We’re actually having a small party at my place tonight, why don’t you come?”
“You’ve just met me,” Charles points out, voicing his confusion, “you really want to invite me to your house?”
“Pish posh,” Declan waves him off, already starting to walk back to his sister’s apartment “I’ll send you the details, bring alcohol!”
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Charles tries to come up with excuses to give Declan when he’s a no show at the party, but all the excused he come up with sounding either shitty, entitled or just a mess in general. So he convinces himself to get ready after a much needed shower, and remembers to pick up a bottle of tequila on his way to the address Declan texted him earlier that day. Considering the amount of cars parked in front of the apartment complex, Charles thinks whether it’s going to be a ‘small’ party as Declan put earlier, but he manages to find a place to park his car, nonetheless. Surprisingly, it’s not hard to find which apartment belongs to his new ‘friend’, as the people he seems to keep literally bumping into give him directions which lead him to the top floor – he thinks, like brother like sister, huh?
“Ah, bienvenu, Charles!” Declan greets him as he enters the apartment, filled with more people than he honestly expected; but hey, they are in Monte Carlo after all.
Because he was raised by his mother, Charles replies, “Merci de me recevoir,” but because he is Charles, he finds himself reverting easily to French. Of course, he soon realises that his new friend has no trouble understanding him.
“Of course, ma maison est ta maison.” With a wide smile that reaches his eyes, he takes the bottle Charles offer him and pats his shoulder in a friendly manner, “Good lad, let me put this in the kitchen and we’ll find my sister together. I suppose she’s here somewhere.”
Giving him a firm nod, Charles is suddenly left alone to gaze around the living area. He quickly realises that he’s not the only one who is particularly patriotic as he comes face to face with the Union Jack on the wall, proudly displayed on the wall, seems to tell a story of cultural connections and a home away from home. He’s also, somehow, met with a very eccentric group of people, who seem to be insistent on having him join their various conversation – which he does his best to partake in.
As he chats with a group of fellow partygoers, he notices Declan making his way through the crowd toward him. “Charles,” he says with an apologetic smile, “sorry for that, let’s go.”
As they move through the apartment, Charles catches glimpses of the décor, which can only be described as eclectic, but what he realises that Declan made sure to fill up his walls with all kinds of memories; from photographs of what Charles thinks is his family to his diplomas, to even famous artwork – he’s not sure whether the Warhol he just passed by is real or not, but he supposes it’s probably the first option. They arrive at a corner of the rooftop terrace where a cozy seating area is arranged. A few guests are engaged in animated discussions, while others lounge comfortably, enjoying the ambiance. However, it doesn’t take either him or Declan to realise that his sister is, in fact, not with the group.
Though, it doesn’t take the latter to spot his sister, mumbling with a wince under his breath, and when Charles follows Declan's gaze to find her engaged in a rather animated discussion with a man who looks both frustrated and slightly bewildered by her. “Poor guy.”
“Seems like she's keeping him entertained.” Charles offer, careful with his words, and also quite confused at the man’s reactions to whatever Declan’s sister seems to be saying.
“Eh, sisters.” Declan shrugs, and motions Charles to follow him.
As they approach their corner of the terrace, her voice becomes clearer, and Charles can overhear snippets of the conversation. “I just don’t understand why we can’t print more money,” she says in an airy voice.
The man she's speaking to rubs his temples, clearly grappling with how to respond. “Well, it's not that simple. Printing more money can lead to inflation and devalue the currency.” He takes a moment to think, then, “Think of it like shoes–”
“Okay,” Declan laughs nervously as he places himself between the two, turning to the other man with a kind smile, “I think we’re done here, mate, she’s playing you. She’s an econ major, sorry for that.” Though Charles can’t see the expression on her face, he imagines there’s some sort of a victorious smile as she waves the man away, “Stop emasculating my friends, please.”
“Well choose better friends, and I won’t,” she shrugs, following his brother’s movements as he makes his way back near Charles, she turns towards him as the white dress she’s wearing sways gently in the evening breeze. There’s a surprised look on her face when she realises and they are not alone, “Um, hi.”
With a playful grin, Declan points to Charles and turns to his sister, “This is Charles, your new neighbour, and Charles, this is my sister–”
Bambi.
It’s the only word that comes to Charles’ mind when he sees your eyes and a friendly smile you give to him, “Nice to meet you, Charles.”
His eyes fall down to your extended hand, and he scrambles to regain his composure, taking your hand and shaking it gently. “Uh, yes, nice to meet you too.”
With an unexpected clap from your brother, which has both you and Charles jumping slightly, you turn to him with a glare, “Well, now that you know each other, I’ll leave you to get acquainted. And you,” he points to you which elicits a raised eyebrow from you, “don’t scare him off, and for God’s sake change this music.”
“What’s wrong with ABBA?” You ask with a small pout already forming on your lips.
“We need a change,” Charles watches with a silent chuckle as Declan starts walking back towards the kitchen, “ergo, change it!”
“Well that was an interesting exit,” you mumble, eyes following your brother until he’s out of both your and Charles’ views. Afterwards, you turn your attention back to the man standing in front of you, “What do you think about The Smiths?”
“Who?” Charles asks you, confusion written on his face.
“Not The Who,” you nudge him slightly, chuckling softly, though your laughter dies down once you realise he’s really confused. “I– The Smiths, Charles! To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die,” you softly sing, but he replies with a small shake of his head, and a shrug. “Oh, I love The Smiths! Come on, you have a lot to learn.”
As you grab him by his wrist to guide him back inside the apartment, I might be in trouble, he thinks to himself. And then, you turn around to give him a full smile, with a glint of mischief in your eyes that he can't quite interpret, and say, “I can already feel that we are going to be very good friends.”
And then he knows, he’s definitely in trouble.
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goosewriting · 9 months
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Hey I loved your baby from the future series, and was wondering if you could do mikey?? no rush tho! I love your writing style btw!
🦆 anon @duckanon
All them bebes! 🥺 (rottmnt Mikey x reader)
summary: several turtle babies suddenly appear in the lair, and they look suspiciously a lot like Mikey
relationship: Rise!Mikey x GN reader
warnings: none
word count: 2.2k 
A/N: here we go with the grand finale ✨ (welcome duckanon btw!) this one was by far the hardest to write of the four, so i really hope you like it! ♥ i had gotten an ask for mikey’s part for a reader that has been alone almost all their life and accepted that they’d never be a parent even though they really wanted to, so i incorporated that, thanks for the idea!
More “Baby 🥺” versions: Leo | Raph | Donnie | Mikey (you're here)
(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)
— — —
On a rainy Saturday afternoon, there wasn‘t a lot to do, so you decided to spend the day at the lair with your favourite turtle. You were in Mikey‘s room, with him lying on his belly on the bed, and you at his desk. Art supplies were scattered all around the place, and you both listened to some lo-fi while very focused on the masterpieces you were crafting.
Suddenly, there was a series of zapping sounds behind you. Confused, and slightly startled, you turned around on the squeaky office chair you were sat in, and saw some yellow flickering lights above the floor, of which a turtle tot came crawling out. Before you could even process what you were seeing, the lights disappeared, and there was a new flash of yellow a couple of feet to the side. With another turtle baby. Your eyes quickly shot up in Mikey’s direction, just to make sure that he was aware of this too and you weren’t just imagining things. To your partial relief, he looked just as shocked as you.
You didn’t even get to push yourself off the chair to stand up, as you were planning to, when the new wave of zapping lights appeared above you, and you looked up in horror. Out of thin air appeared yet another turtle baby, falling into your lap. You caught it with a squeal of surprise, which was reciprocated by a gleeful one coming from the baby.
One last zap, on the bed this time, accompanied by not one but two turtles, and then the flickering lights disappeared entirely, leaving you and Mikey very confused, as you were suddenly surrounded by five little turtle lots, all stumbling as they tried to stand up on short, wobbly legs. They all looked around curiously, the one on your lap looked slightly lost, even. But when you looked at the pair on the bed, you immediately recognised two little faces ready to cause some mischief.
However the two tots skillfully manoeuvred over the bunched up blankets to reach Mikey, cooing at him and climbing into his lap, as he was trying to stand up from the bed. Of the two turtles that had appeared on the floor, one waddled towards you, holding onto your leg and squishing its cheek against your knee once it reached you, while the other swiftly made its way to Mikey, making grabby hands at him and asking to be picked up. 
In your stupor and inability to speak, you intently took in the scene. They all had yellow splotches like Mikey, and were very freckly, the one in your lap having the most. They all had one thing in common though: all five were absolutely adorable. 
Seeing that the turtles on Mikey’s lap were in essence the spitting image of the few baby photos you had seen of your boyfriend, you smiled to yourself.
“If i didn't know any better I'd say they're your kids,” you told Mikey, looking at the little turtle in your lap and smiling widely, to which it cooed and waved at you. “They look just like you!”
“We have to get Donnie here asap,” Mikey said instead, ignoring your comment for the time being, although the faintest of blushes on his cheeks did not go unnoticed by you. He somehow managed to pry himself free of the three little turtles on him, leaving them on the bed instead, three pairs of curious eyes looking after him as he left to get his brother. After he was gone from view, all three heads turned towards you in comical synchrony. 
“So…” you started, picking up the second baby into your lap that had been pulling on your trousers impatiently. “Where are your parents?” 
Wow, look at you, trying to make conversation with a bunch of kids, you thought to yourself. Except that they all pointed at you without hesitation. 
Wait what? 
As you were trying to make sense of this, let’s be honest, pretty ridiculous situation, the pair of turtles that came in together started to get rowdy. If you had to guess you’d have said they’re the only pair of twins out of the five, with how they were always clinging to each other and even the splotches on their arms and faces seemed to be mostly identical. You weren’t sure what they were fighting about, but the pushes started getting stronger and their voices louder as well. You tried to calm them down but they were not listening, and you couldn't exactly get up, as the turtle you had picked up was trying to climb onto your head, pulling at your shirt. 
Before you were able to stop them, one of the twins pushed the other off the bed, and he fell to the floor with a slight clunk. You held your breath for a second, hoping he’d walk it off, but he started crying. With a deep sigh and an “alright” that was directed more towards yourself than the turtles, you got up and brought everyone to the bed, sitting down yourself as well. You picked up the crying turtle, bringing him into your lap, and you gently rubbed his head where he hit the floor. 
“There, there,” you cooed, giving him a little kiss, and that seemed to do the trick as he calmed down immediately. The other turtles protested, trying to climb into your lap as well; they all wanted kisses.
You chuckled at the sight, feeling like a horde of puppies was about to overwhelm you. You gave kisses left and right, trying your best to get everyone an equal amount. Just as the twins had finally calmed down and were about to doze off, tightly holding onto your arm and each other, Mikey appeared again at the door, Donnie behind him. 
The purple-clad turtle took one hard look, stopping in his tracks, taking in the scene before him. Mikey gave him a friendly slap on his shoulder to encourage him to go in there and do the thing.
With a sigh and an unreadable expression, Donnie approached you and started scanning the turtles with a handheld device of sorts. The turtles were silent but curious, following his movements with interest, and so did you. 
Then, Donnie proceeded to scan you, and then Mikey. The device calculated something, and his wrist brace beeped, showing a result in text hovering over his arm, so you were able to read it from where you were sitting.
“Congrats” Donnie first deadpanned, placing a hand on Mikey's shoulder. But then a slightly amused smirk appeared on his face. “You two made me an uncle.”
“What?!” you and Mikey said in unison, shocked, looking at his wrist again. The text read: “99.88% DNA match”.
“I'll be in the lab trying to figure out how to get them back into their timeline,” Donnie remarked, leaving the room as if he didn’t just say that you were surrounded by your turtle kids from the future. 
You were holding the twins in your arms, and another that had gotten behind you was leaning against your back, tiny head pressed between your shoulders; all three were about to fall asleep. The other two turtles were on either side of you, looking up at Mikey and asking to be picked up by him when he approached you. He took one into each arm and took a long look at each with a smile. His gaze shot up to you when he suddenly heard you sniffling.  
“Whoa, you okay?” Mikey asked worriedly.
“Yeah, I'm just... Trying to process this,” you replied, unable to wipe away your tears as your arms and hands were currently cradling the turtles, so the tears freely rolled down your cheeks and fell onto your shirt.
“That we get kids at some point?” Mikey asked, almost sheepishly. You slowly nodded your head, but it turned into shaking, as it wasn’t just that. 
“More like… That I have a family at all,” you admitted. “One of my own.”
One of the turtles in your lap stirred and his little hand reached yours, holding onto your index finger. Now you were trying to hold back sobs so as to not wake them up, but you were unsuccessful. The twins blinked a couple of times, then looked up at you with a slight frown. Even the two in Mikey’s arms looked all worried that you were in distress. 
Suddenly all five turtle babies started humming. At first it was a little desynchronised, but it quickly turned into a lullaby melody, one you hadn't heard in a very long time. This made you cry even harder, and Mikey sat down on the bed, so that all five turtles could hold onto you. 
You smiled through your tears at the whole situation; they were comforting you when really it should be the other way around. Even Mikey’s hand was gently rubbing up and down your back, his brows furrowed together, trying to come up with something to say. He knew you had been alone most of your life, but he loved you so much and wanted to give you the world because you deserved it and more; it hurt him to see you thinking you couldn’t have a family of your own. 
By now the song was over, and the babies just held tightly onto you. Mikey opened his mouth to say something, when a comically loud grumble filled the room for an embarrassingly long time. You laughed, finally able to get one arm free, and brought it up to rub over your face with the back of your sleeve.
“Was that the tots or you, Mikey?” you asked with a chuckle.
“I think that was all of us,” he replied, and five little heads nodded in agreement. “How about some food, then?” They all squealed in glee, starting to climb off the bed and running around. 
To keep them apart, you decided to put stickers on their shells, like Mikey had on his plastron. They all got to choose the one they liked best, and after they were marked, the whole group took off to the kitchen.
Mikey quickly whipped up something safe for the little turtles to eat, and make food for you and himself as well. After you were all full, you went back to Mikey's room and decided to make a nap pile on his bed. 
Unable to sleep, while the rest was happily snoozing, you got up and started gathering some crayons and pencils into a box so the turtles could draw after they woke up. 
Suddenly there was that zap again, and you turned around in shock, hoping that there weren't more little tots to take care of until Donnie figured out something, but you were frozen in place as this swirl of lights was far bigger than the others you had seen. Who, or what would come in through there?!
Your mouth hung slightly agape in disbelief when an older version of none other than Mikey came hopping into your timeline, looking around until his gaze met yours. That's when behind him came another figure, and it was Leo, except that he was way taller (oh he’d love to have a growth spurt like that for sure), and he had a… mechanical arm? Just what was going on?!
This Leo first saw the nap pile and went “aww, look at them” but the older Mikey quickly shushed him. Then he turned to you with a gentle smile, his orange cloak swooshing around his ankles.
“Let's not wake them up,” he explained. “The less Mikey versions everyone sees, the better. Especially the kids.”
“Are you here to… pick them up?” you asked, unsure if you were relieved that the babies would go back to where they belonged, or sad because you wanted to spend some more time with them.
Mikey nodded with a warm smile, and held your hand. Meanwhile Leo started carefully picking up the babies from the bed. In his big arms they suddenly looked so much smaller and frail. You felt a light squeeze to your hand, so you brought your eyes back to Mikey.
“I wish the surprise hadn’t been spoiled but,” he said, leaning in and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “It’s quite the roller-coaster. Look forward to it.”
“I already am,” you admit, holding onto his hand for one more moment, then letting go so they could leave.
Leo gave you a knowing nod with his head and an encouraging smile as he stepped through the portal. Mikey turned around one last time before leaving, shooting you a wink, which you responded by playfully sticking your tongue out at him, as you would usually do. 
The lights flickered for a second, and then they were gone, leaving you standing alone in the dark room. Wiping over your face one last time to dry the remaining tears, you climbed into the bed with a sigh, and it felt much too big and empty now. You scooted closer to Mikey and he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, planting a sleepy kiss on your forehead. You sniffled into his plastron, trying your hardest to calm down and not wake him up.
Eventually, Mikey's steady breaths started lulling you to sleep, and as your eyes finally closed, you hoped to dream with five little turtles.
~~~~~
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