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#the goodie bag series
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The goodie bag series - Min Yoongi
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Pairing: Yoongi x fem reader
Word count: 2.4 k words
Warnings: Trigger warning, attempted kidnapping, attempted assault, a fight.
A/n: I fought with myself a long time about if I wanted to post this after I wrote it, but then decided, fuck it, I'll take my chances.
Tagging: @parkdatjimin @themochiverse and my yoonmin anon.
Read the other members here.
୧⁠|⁠ ͡⁠ᵔ⁠ ⁠﹏⁠ ͡⁠ᵔ⁠ ⁠|⁠୨~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Yoonie, come home for dinner today?" You peeked out of your bedroom where you were still getting changed as Yoongi grabbed a mouthful of oats and grabbed his laptop bag and hurried to the door, but stopped as soon as you called out. He took two long strides and was in front of you, pressing a chaste kiss to your temples, " I won't make any promises honey, you know I'm busy."
You nodded against his lips, "Try?" You mumbled. 
"Mhm, I'll try. Have a good day!" He was already moving again and you regarded him with a tight smile as the door closed behind him. 
You stood there for a minute before turning back to the task at hand, getting ready to go to work yourself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'I won't make it to dinner, love. Don't wait up for me.' 
His text pulled you out of the stream of paperwork you were going through. You blinked disappointedly at the screen for a moment before going back to the floor plan you were designing, a strange bitterness in your stomach.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The bed dipped behind you and the familiar scent of Yoongi's perfume and his deep grunt as he flung himself on the pillows alerted you that he was back. Your lashes fluttered and you hummed, turning over and cuddling into his side. 
"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you. How was your day?" His tone sounded oh so tired. 
"Good. Did you eat?" You were still half asleep. 
"No, I had a late lunch. Im not very hungry, let's just sleep?" And you knew, with the way his words drawled out, that he needed sleep more than anything. 
And God knows, you needed it too, so you hummed in agreement and soon enough, both your breaths evened out, holding onto each other.
Until he started coming home so late and leaving so early that the only indication of his presence in your shared space was the occasional damp towel left in the bathroom, the rumpled sheets on his half of the bed and the single dirty dish in the sink in the morning. 
He still texted you though. 
'Good morning my love. You looked too peaceful to wake up. I had early practice and lots of writing to do. I'll see you in the evening. '
And then as evening approached, 'Babe, I'm caught up. Please don't wait up for me. I'm so sorry. '
And he was sincerely sorry. You knew. You knew your husband, and you also knew that when he slipped into the Producer Min headspace, there wasn't much you could do except wait it out till the days he'd pick you up from work and both of you'd drive home humming to songs together, returned. 
And you had your own work right? Yeah, you had loads of paperwork to go through, so many plans to approve and so many meetings to attend. 
Then why was it that when you leaned back in your chair, looking at the clock that showed that two hours had passed since you were supposed to clock out, and one of the more high profile client's plans pulled up on your computer, your heart felt like someone was squeezing it so tight? 
You missed Yoongi. You always missed Yoongi, and whenever something like this happened, you'd voice it to him, and flawed as he was human, Yoongi had a way of turning on you for being too immature and needy sometimes. 
And you had promised yourself that you'd not let an argument like that happen this time. 
Thus, true to yourself, you picked some chicken from one of his favorite fried food places and headed to his company. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was stupid, why was your heart hammering so hard? This was your husband for god's sake. You entered the password to his studio in the keypad and as the door beeped open, you pulled the door, bracing yourself. 
But his wide eyes and slight pout told you everything was okay. 
For now. 
His smile was just as bright as it had always been. His kisses were just as sweet as you wanted. His whispered "I missed you so much" echoed what your own heart was screaming, and you were happy. 
And so was he. 
Which is why when you stretched out on the couch after the staff had collected all the trash, leaving you both to your devices, Yoongi had only fondly rolled his eyes and tucked you under his own jacket, as he went back to work and you dozed off. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That first night in the studio turned into an almost daily ritual.
For four days. 
Which seemed fair, because you had gone without the man for a whole week. And you were confident that this time around, you might make it out of this spell without an argument.
But things always had a way of going downhill didn't they? 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yoongi didn't mind you hanging out in the studio. It was his habitat, and you were his wife. If anything, you were the one he loved having there more than anyone. But he had noticed the way you grimaced and grabbed your shoulders when you woke up, the way your neck bent at all the wrong angles on his couch, and how the dark circles under your eyes turned darker. 
He felt guilty. 
And he hated feeling that way. 
"Babe, go home." He urged you, adamant in front of him. 
"No. I'm fine here, trust me." Ah, you had that look on your face. The look that was more of a challenge, as usual. A look that told him you'd be stubborn on this. 
"You're uncomfortable here, don't lie to me. Go home, it's alright, you don't have to stay with me." God, he hated feeling guilty. 
"I want to though." 
"You want to go to the chiropractor for your neck coz you're too damn stubborn for your own good?" Yoongi raised an eyebrow. 
"I want to stay with you coz I hate sleeping without you." You lowered your voice slightly, "You know that."
"Don't be such a child y/n, it's not like I don't come home" 
There he went, your heartbeat increased. This wasn't happening. Hadn't you promised yourself? 
" It's n-"
"Please go home, I'm wasting time as it is." He grunted and turned back, clearly done with the conversation as his hands reached for his headphones. 
"I hate sleeping alone Yoongi, why would you make me sleep alone when I'm fine here?" You demanded. 
You got no response, a faint sound of instruments came from his headphones. 
Tears pricked your eyes. Yoongi could be an ass when he wanted to. 
You sat there for a few minutes, before convincing yourself it wasn't worth getting into another fight if he turned around and still found you there. You heaved a shaky breath and gathered your stuff, leaving the building and heading to the bus stop. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
God, fall nights in Seoul got so chilly so soon. You hugged your sweater closer to you and walked towards your home purposefully, the anger at a certain producer dissipating in the cool air. 
Not long after, you realized there was more than one echo of footsteps coming to you. You focused on the sound, trying not to be paranoid. Maybe it was just the way the street was. There wasn't someone following you, was there? 
Was there? You tilted your head slightly to the side. 
There most definitely was. 
Your heart hammered. Shit shit shittt. You transferred your house keys to your dominant hand and stuck the sharp edge out of your fist and quickened your steps. 
You were almost home, it was okay. 
And then the second pair of footsteps vanished. 
Phew, it was probably just someone else going home from work. Paranoia really did take the best of your mind some days. 
You heaved a sigh of relief and smiled softly. 
Too soon. 
You collided into a man in a long black coat who had just come out of the alley in front of you. His firm hands grabbed onto your waist, and one immediately made it's way lower over your hips. 
You blanched and tried to pull away. 
"Hello, pretty. What are you doing out at this hour?" 
His voice was raspy and his breath reeked of alcohol. You struggled harder.
"Let go!" You snapped. 
"Feisty little thing aren't you? Good, I like em feisty." He grinned, clearly drunk out of his mind and made to grab you off your feet, fitting both hands under your ass and lifting you up.
You screamed in terror and jabbed at his face with the key you had. 
Immediately he was dropping you, "You little cunt! What the fuck was that for?" He yelled.
But you were already swift on your feet, running in the opposite direction as fast as your legs would carry you. All you could think of was that he could not know where you lived. 
You zoomed onto the main street, still hearing his thundering curses and footsteps behind you, and thanked everything holy at the 7-eleven in front of you. 
"Please, help me. There's a man outside, he-" you gasped at the ahjussi behind the counter who had risen from his seat in surprise. 
He was quick to catch on, leaping from behind the counter and looking around outside. But the bastard had left. 
The old man turned back to you with kind eyes, concerned at the state you were in, pale and trembling like a leaf. 
"He's gone child, he's gone."
"A-are you s-sure?" You said weakly. 
"I'm sure. Let me get you some water. Do you have anyone to call to come get you? You shouldn't walk home by yourself at this time." He said kindly, pouring you a glass of water 
"M-my husband... My h-husband," your trembling hands found your phone and you were calling Yoongi instantly. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yoongi rolled his eyes and tossed his phone in the drawer. 
"Fucking hell y/n, how petty can you be?" He mumbled. 
You had this stupid habit of spamming him when you wanted to annoy him. 
He was just surprised that you'd do it now, when you had clearly had an argument.
If anything, Yoongi expected you to sulk and be mad for a day at least 
Clearly not. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the trembling phone told you the love of your life had let the call go to voicemail for the third time, you broke. 
Tears streaming down your face, you dialed the only one you trusted in any case. 
The line rang and then a sleepy hum sounded.
"J-jungkookie?" You sobbed. 
"Noona?" He was awake in a second, "What's wrong?" 
You sobbed harder. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Yoongi came home the next day, he was surprised at how dark the living room was, the curtains drawn. 
He also noticed how your shoes weren't by the door but instead still on your feet as you were curled up on the couch, eyes wide open and streaks of dried mascara sitting on your face. 
His alarms went off. 
There was something definitely wrong. 
"Honey?" He called out to your still form, and didn't get graced with a look back.
"Baby?" He went over to you. 
Still no response. 
Oh, something was so wrong. 
He got on his knees before you, his stomach churning in tension. 
"Y/n, love, what happened?" 
"I called you Yoongi, why didn't you pick up?" Your voice was hoarse and barely there, and your neck had these strange scratches on it that made no sense to the ridiculous question you had asked him. 
Something was wrong. 
"I was working love, what's happened to you?" 
That's when you caught him with a half dead gaze, immediately making him wish you hadn't looked his way. An unexplained shame set into his very bones. 
"Please tell me what happened." He pleaded again.
" I was... " You sighed, "I was walking home last night and when I turned off the main road... " Your voice broke again and Yoongi felt his sanity slipping away.
"... there was a- a guy... He-he tried t-to-" a dry sob cut you off and the raging panic in Yoongi's body froze over to something deadly. 
His own shame and ice cold anger made a cocktail of poison so strong, his fists clenched and his voice lowered. 
" He tried to touch you?" He asked.
Your nod had a roar lodging in his throat. 
" H-he lifted me and tried to take me away. I scratched him with th-the keys, " you hiccuped, "and ran back to the store. He followed me all the way" you were trembling again, tears of fear slipping down the paths already present on your face. 
"Honey..." His hands reached for you, and his heart broke when you started and pulled away slightly before grabbing his hands and crying in earnest. 
"Yoongi..." His name was all that slipped past your trembling lips as you cried against his shoulder, "I called you. I called you so many times, why didn't you answer me? " 
Yoongi felt like he'd be sick. He wanted to go get that bastard arrested this very moment but his guilt and shame froze him to the spot. The way you held onto him so tightly made him feel like he wasn't worthy to comfort you. 
And all he could say was, "I'm sorry, love. Im so so sorry. " His own voice strained from holding back tears. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yoongi gingerly placed you on the bed after the longest shower you had taken. 
He had had to gently guide your hand away from your skin so many times as you scratched yourself violently and cried. You had cried so much. 
He had carried you to the room, silent and stewing in guilt. 
But as soon as his arms pulled away you mumbled a soft, "No... Please?" 
"What is it baby?" He had no words of comfort worthy of giving you.
"Stay."
"I'm right here." He sat beside you, his hands carding through your damp hair. 
You hugged his arm to your chest, breathing soft and slightly shaky from all the crying. 
"Jungkookie brought me home." You mumbled into his skin. 
Yoongi would go hug Jungkook after this. 
"Please don't make me sleep alone." God, why was your voice so small? 
"I won't, my baby. I won't ever. I'm so sorry." 
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dearly-somber · 7 months
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hyunga’s sleeping | l.mh
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-> pairing. idol!minho x non-idol!reader (f)
-> genre. Established relationship, domestic fluff.
-> rating. 13+
-> w/c. 1101
-> warnings. None!
-> a/n. This was fueled by pure, unadulterated Minho & Soon-Doong-Dori (SDD) brainrot.
-> skz drabble, oneshot & series m.list
-> started. Feb. 23rd, 2024 @ 16:51
-> fin. Fri., Mar. 1st, 2024 @ 19:40
-> edited. Sat. Mar. 2nd, 2024 @ 15:40
-> divider credit. @plum98
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“Eomoni!”
“Y/N, darling, come in!”
Minho’s mom wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling you inside with a big smile on her face. She waves you off as you slip out of your shoes and into a pair of bright pink Hello Kitty slippers Minho bought for you as a joke years ago, forcefully prying the bag of goodies you bought on your way here from your fingers.
“I hope I’m not intruding—?”
“Hush!” Mrs. Lee chides with a smile, “Stop worrying so much.” Her hand hovers by the small of your back, guiding you up the last step into the living room.
“Is Minho here? He said he was coming home today…”
“Yes, he’s here. He’s in his room.” Minho’s mom sets the plastic bag on the counter, and you naturally go to help her unpack what you bought, shelving things like you live here.
“I—hello, abeonim.” You bow at Mr. Lee, closing your eyes contentedly when he comes around the counter to give you a fatherly side-hug that squishes you against him.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, ruffling your hair as he lets you go in favor of helping his wife unpack.
You shrug, walking around to the other side of the counter. “Thought I’d pop in to say hi. I missed the kittens very much.”
Mr. Lee laughs, shaking his head at you. “Of course, the kittens.” He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly.
You can’t help the grin tugging at your mouth, clearing your throat to speak. “Speaking of, where are the babies? I haven’t seen any of them since I got here.”
“Last time I checked they were all with Minho in his room,” his mom says, putting away the bottle of red wine you bought for dinner later tonight.
“Great! I can kill two birds with one stone.” You wiggle your eyebrows.
She snickers at you, shooing you away with a fond smile. “Go say hi and then come sit with us—we found a documentary we thought you’d like.”
“Okay, eomoni.” You smile at her and hope your pure love and adoration for her isn’t written too clearly on your face, afraid she might tease you. You walk with light steps in the direction of Minho’s room, unable to wipe the smile off your face.
“Minho-ssi,” you sing-song, rounding the corner with a light and airy step-a-step you’re pretty sure you saw somewhere in Thunderous’s choreography.
Mreow?
“Doong-Doong-ah?” Your lips jut out in a surprised pout, looking down at the talkative orange tabby with a tiny furrow in your brow. Following the lump of white sheets behind him, you finally make out Minho’s all-black clad body hidden under all the fluff.
You smile.
“Is hyunga sleeping?” you whisper, walking over on the tips of your toes before crouching in front of Doongie, scratching behind his ears with a soft smile. He mrews, his eyes fluttering closed as he leans his head into your hand. To your right, Dori hugs what you think is a bottle of lotion between his white socked-paws, his tail flicking with each nibble he delivers to the hard plastic.
You let your hand wander over Dori’s side and chide him with a half-hearted hiss when he clamps his teeth around your knuckles, shaking it off with a smile when he pauses a second before giving your hand a couple of licks.
You give his side one last pat before walking around Minho’s feet, only noticing Soonie as he’s cuddling into your boyfriend’s duveted stomach.
You can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips, crouching next to the sleeping cats to card your fingers through Soonie’s fur, feeling a familiar sense of pride swell in your chest at his appreciative purr.
And then you’re looking up at Lee Minho, your body tingling all over at the serenity on your sleeping beauty’s face, unable to help but reach out and let your hand run over his hair; a little frizzy at the ends but otherwise straight; he must not have been sleeping for very long.
You drag your hand over Minho’s head with an inexplicable softness constricting your throat, wishing you could lean down and kiss him without running the risk of waking him up.
You jump a little when Minho lets out an adorable grunt as he slowly pries his eyes open.
“Jagi?” he mumbles.
“Did I wake you?” you coo, combing your fingers through his fringe.
“Mmm.”
You chuckle, letting the pads of your fingers brush over his forehead, over his eyelids. “Ever the truthman.”
“Truthman?” he grumbles, bringing a hand up to loosely hold your wrist between his fingers.
“When did you get home?” You let your hand wander over his cheek.
“A few hours ago…”
“From practice?”
He guides the palm of your hand against his lips. “Mmm...”
He kisses your hand, turning onto his back (much to Soonie’s dismay) and throwing the duvet around his hips before tugging on your arm with surprising strength.
You yelp, practically falling on top of him. He lets out a back-of-the-throat kind of giggle that sends tingles down your arms, using his hands on your hips to shift you higher up his abdomen.
Minho lets out a satisfied hum-sigh against the top of your head, his fingers massaging the skin at your waist before hooking his fingers under the waistband of your trousers, letting the elastic keep his hands in place.
“Baby,” you say, softly—knowing his parents are waiting for you downstairs but feeling so tempted to sink into his warmth and stay there until the end of days.
“No,” he huffs, nuzzling your temple. “Lay with me for a bit.”
You can’t help but laugh, subtly shaking your head. Of course he knows. “Okay, but only for a minute. Your mom invited me downstairs to watch a—“
“Shh, jagi, I’m trying to sleep.”
———
“Y/N, sweetheart, we’re—“
Mrs. Lee stops in her tracks, right outside Minho’s room. The sight she comes across brings an immediate smile to her face, and she can’t help but take her phone out and snap a picture to give to her son later:
Minho, his arms wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, legs intertwined. And surrounding you, Soonie, Doongie and Dori; the youngest of the trio laying by his hyung’s head. Doongie lays by your feet, and Soonie sleeps just off to the side, his legs stretched out in front of him.
As she sits back down with her husband, Mrs. Lee can’t help but think: she can’t wait for the day Minho asks for her mother’s ring.
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strang3lov3 · 9 months
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Cinnabon
Summary: (mall rats 7, final part!) Joel ruins a special moment, leading to another stupid argument, leading to him fucking the daylights out of you on his couch. Lovingly.
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Tags: AU where yeast is not dead and we can all bake and be happy. Cordyceps is no longer in the flour/sugar either (work with me) Cinnabons, 69, dirty talk, unprotected Piv, creampie because it’s me, strang3lov3. soft dom joel because again, it’s me, strang3lov3. Strange highs and strange lows, that’s how my love goes. You get it.
A/N: As always, thank you @papipascalispunk for editing ❤️ you’ve helped me so much on this series and you have no clue how thankful I am for that. Definitely abusing your talents for the next shit I wanna write! And thank you to everyone who’s read and reblogged, commented, all of that good stuff. This was a blast to write!!!
This may not be the absolute end of these two, so you might get an update on them here and there, most likely in the form of yet another lovers quarrel. But I have so much stuff planned and I hope you continue to keep up with me ❤️ excited for the new year and to share what else i've been writing with all of you 🩷
It’s early in the morning in late December when you’re walking up to Joel’s porch, holding a basket full of ingredients and a dusty copy of Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. You knock on the door, no answer. With Joel’s poor hearing, sometimes it’s better to knock on his back door. He seems to hear it better, closer to his bedroom and all that. You make your way to his back door, where you find Ellie quietly opening the window next to the door, no doubt sneaking back from a friend’s house. You startle each other, “Ellie, hi,” you say. You wrinkle your nose, she smells like weed. You can’t help but smirk.
“Oh,” she says, “Hi. I’m not– I’m just–”
“I won’t tell Joel,” you smile. Ellie’s staring at your basket of goodies, where one of your lacy Victoria’s Secret thongs sits on top of a blue Cinnabon apron. “I’m just…baking. For Joel. Are you gonna be home today?”
It’s Ellie’s turn to smirk at you, as she opens the window the rest of the way and lifts herself inside the house. You hear her heavy footsteps before she unlocks and opens the door for you. “I can disappear,” she replies, “I require payment, though.” 
“I’ll leave you a plate outside your door.”
“Deal.” 
Ellie goes to her room probably to change clothes, and you go toward Joel’s kitchen. “I want two of whatever you’re making,” Ellie calls out before slamming the back door again, probably going back to her friend’s house. That girl certainly knows how to negotiate. You can’t help but love her for it.
Joel usually wakes up early, but he’s not on his recliner where you expect him to be. Must be in bed. You smile to yourself, picturing Joel coming downstairs in his pajamas, hair messy and sighing in pleasure at the sweet aroma of butter and cinnamon. 
You’re making Cinnabons this morning. Well, cinnamon rolls, as Betty Crocker puts it. When you and Joel were in the Barnes and Noble at the mall picking up books for Jackson’s library, you had stumbled across Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. Flipping through the pages, you found a recipe for cinnamon rolls and thought back to that first time in the mall with Joel, where he explained what a Cinnabon was, and then lied about his sweet tooth. 
There were loads of recipes, many interesting pictures too. You brought the book to Joel and pointed at a picture of some odd, translucent dome-shaped food item. He told you it was called Jell-O, and that no one misses it. You wanted to take the cookbook back with you, but there wasn’t room in the duffel bag. And you couldn’t bear to rip out a single page for one recipe. That would just be cruel.
At the end of the day, you went back to Tommy’s office with Joel. Joel usually walks you home, but he didn’t that day. Said he was running late for game night with Ellie, so he took off quickly. Tommy told you he’d walk you home, though.
As you and Tommy went through some of the books, he heard you sigh disappointedly, “What’s gotcha down, hon?”
“There was this book I wanted, but we didn’t have room.” 
“What book?”
“Cookbook,” you replied, “I wanted to make a recipe for Joel.” 
“Ah,” Tommy murmured, flipping through the pages of an old picture book, “Which recipe?”
“Cinnamon rolls.”
“Oh man,” Tommy groaned. He checked his watch, then looked at you with a light in his eyes. 
“I’ll take you back there right now to get that book.” 
“You’d do that?”, you asked.
“For you, of course. But I got my motives. Ya gotta hook me up with some of those rolls.”
There are few things that make you feel as loved and appreciated as when Tommy’s eating your food, showering you in the sweetest compliments and praises. No problem, you’d gladly share your baking with him. So Tommy took you back to the mall. You led him to the bookstore, picked up your book and went on your merry way. Tommy still hadn’t gotten to check the mall out for himself, though. So he wandered through the same areas you did, through the food court you and Joel picked through all that time ago. At the Cinnabon stand, he tossed you a blue apron with the word ‘Cinnabon’ embroidered at the chest. “Bet ya could make Joel turn bright red with this.”
You picked up what he was putting down immediately. And, thinking about it, you had a lacy thong that would match the apron perfectly. You remembered the blush on Joel’s cheeks as you tried on lingerie at Victoria’s Secret, how he mumbled something about lingerie being a waste of time before fucking you in the dressing room, still wearing your pretty pink chiffon babydoll. You wondered if faced with a big, gooey cinnamon roll sitting in front of him, and you in nothing but an apron and a thong, he’d still lie about that sweet tooth of his and his disdain for lingerie. Cause for an experiment. 
In Joel’s kitchen, you prepare the recipe. You prepped the dough last night, giving it plenty of time to rise. All you have to do this morning is prepare the cinnamon-sugar mixture and the icing. Oh, and put on that apron and thong. Not too hard. 
Once the rolls are assembled in the pan, you put them in Joel’s oven and change into your little outfit, feeling a little breeze on your bare ass. Good thing Ellie’s gone. As you’re waiting for the rolls to bake, you lean over Joel’s kitchen table and flip through the pages of your cookbook. The Jell-O still has you perplexed. 
Some time goes by. You’re reading about the Jell-O, how Betty Crocker said that it was great for parties and baby showers and other things like that. The slam of the glass door behind you startles you. You whip around, and there’s Joel with bright red cheeks, looking shocked and horrified. Through the glass door, you see Tommy in Joel’s yard. He waves at you, smiling. You wave back.
“Jesus Christ,” Joel grumbles, quickly pulling the blinds over the glass door to protect your modesty, “You gonna explain why you’re bare assed in my kitchen?”
“I thought you were sleeping,” you reply.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” he grumbles, as the egg timer you set prior goes off with a ding. You open the oven and pull out the cinnamon rolls with a pair of potholders, giving Joel a perfect view of your entire ass. “Oh my god,” he groans. When you turn around, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, always so dramatic. You reach for the Pyrex measuring bowl full of icing you prepared and begin drizzling it over the warm cinnamon rolls. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy. You’re somethin’ else, you know that? I never know what–”, Joel stops speaking, and you look back at him once more. He’s intrigued, eyes wide. The pastry has pulled his attention away from your nearly-bare body. “Those uh– those cinnamon rolls?”
“Cinnabons,” you correct him, pointing to the embroidered logo on your chest, “But yeah– cinnamon rolls.”
“Right,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. He reaches into one of his drawers for a fork and pushes you out of the way. 
“Joel,” you complain as he steals a bite of the cinnamon rolls, right out of the pan. He blows on it first, careful not to burn his tongue. When he tastes the pastry, his eyes flutter shut. He moans softly. “You said once that you missed Cinnabons,” you explain, speaking softly. Joel reaches for another bite, right out of the pan.
“Mhm,” he mumbles, mouth full of dessert.
“What’s the verdict?”
“Cinnabon’s better,” he answers plainly. 
Your face drops. “What?”
“Yeah this–”, he takes another bite, “S’no good at all.”
He’s fucking with you. Probably gonna say something dumb like how you should give him the pan, let him dispose of those no good cinnamon rolls for you. “Dick,” you punch his arm for scaring you like that. He doesn’t mind. 
“You made these for me?”
“Yeah,” you say quietly, “For you.”
“For me,” he repeats, a soft smile on his face. You’re kind of baffled at his mood change, but you know what they say about men and food; the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, all that stuff. He steps closer to you, backing you against the countertop and turning off his oven, still wearing that smile, like he knows something you don’t.
“But I owe Tommy and Ellie one, too,” you continue, voice a little shaky. You’re nervous, why is he making you nervous? Joel sets his fork down and stares at you, lovingly, tenderly. “I made two batches before this, fucked both of those up. And then I ran out of sugar, actually. Tommy had to steal me some more.”
“I love you.”
His words hit you like a ton of bricks. He says it plainly, no frills. Just out with it. 
“You do?”
“Mhm,” he hums, “I do. Still would like an answer as to why you’re half-naked, though.”
Your face heats up. What were you saying? The cinnamon rolls, right. 
“I was– I don’t know. I had to knead the rolls by hand. The recipe said a stand mixer would be easier, but I didn’t…”, you trail off, feeling a little fuzzy, like you can’t think straight, your train of thought slipping away from you, “Didn’t have one. I love you too, actually.”
“I know,” he replies softly. He never doubted it for a second. Lord, he’s so handsome. His eyes sparkle more than usual, his fluffy curls untamed. The flannel he’s wearing suits him perfectly, and you can’t help but stare, stammering quietly. He reaches for your face with one hand, wrapping the other around your waist and pulling you close to his body, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
Oh, fuck. You squirm out from his hold, away from the counter he held you against. Joel looks absolutely baffled as you smile sheepishly. “Can you grab me a plate for the Cinnabons?”, you ask, “I need to leave one by Ellie’s door.”
“I’d like to kiss you first, if you don’t mind,” he says, walking towards you. You keep walking backwards, around the kitchen table. Joel follows you as you look through his drawers for a spatula, opening and closing cabinets with shaky hands as you try to find a plate. Where are his fucking plates? Joel reaches for your hand to stop you. “Will you let me kiss you?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
Joel’s missing something here. Has to be. You love Joel. Joel loves you. That’s been established, just like, two minutes ago. And you’ve been intimate with him many times before. The next logical step in this series of very out of order steps would be to kiss you. Unless…“Are you nervous?”, he asks.
“About what?”, you ask, “Kissing?”
“No, underwater basket weaving. Yes, kissing,” he sighs, “You seem nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” you lie, “I’d just like to be the one to do it first.”
“Oh,” Joel replies, still a little confused, “Yeah, naturally. Makes sense.” He takes you by the hand and leads you to his living room, sits you on the couch and takes his place next to you. “Lay it on me, then.” 
“I can’t just–”
“You can,” he interrupts, coaxing you gently, “Come closer.” You scoot closer, but it’s not enough for Joel. Still wearing nothing but a thong and an apron, he lifts you by your ass and places you on his lap. Joel wears an expectant look on his face as you adjust yourself on his lap, feeling so awkward and out of your element. You’ve kissed people before, this should be no big deal. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous with Joel, especially when you’ve done everything else with him. 
“Joel, I– I don’t know where to put my hands.”
“Right here,” he whispers, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Or here,” he moves your hands to his jaw, his patchy beard prickly under your fingertips. “Wherever you want.”
“I like your shoulders,” you whisper, dropping your hands back to his shoulders. One of your hands slides to the back of his neck, playing with his soft curls. 
“S’good,” he says. And oh, his eyes. Brown and so warm, inviting, so beautiful. 
“Close your eyes,” you demand, intimidated by his stare. “Sorry. Close your eyes,” you repeat, softer. 
“My bad,” Joel replies, his eyes now shut. You’ve never noticed how pretty his lashes are before now. They’re gorgeous, so long. “They’re closed now.”
“Okay,” you breathe. 
“You got it,” he encourages. 
God, this is daunting. You close your eyes, lean forward…and smooch him right on the cheek. There. Easy. 
“Doesn’t count,” Joel murmurs through a smile, eyes still closed. Fuck. You adjust yourself on his lap, lean forward and…nothing. Joel waits. And waits. And waits. 
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” you say, trying to will yourself to just do it.
“Okay, sweetheart. You got it,” he whispers. But you don’t kiss him yet, and Joel keeps waiting, feeling himself beginning to grow hard as you keep squirming on his lap, adjusting yourself some more. “Hon?”
“Yeah?”
“Any minute, now.”
“I know,” you say, “I’m gonna kiss you.” But you adjust again. A minute passes with you on Joel’s lap as he waits patiently for you to finally kiss him. Another minute. And then you lean forward and – nothing. 
“I’m gonna count down from three, and then you’ll kiss me. How about that?”
Yeah, sounds like a plan. 
“Okay,” you reply. 
“Three…two…”, Joel counts, and you prepare once more to kiss him, “One,” Nothing. Joel sighs, “You’re killin’ me here.”
“I was about to do it, Joel.”
“Uh huh.”
“I was,” you argue, “You just keep talking and–”
“Oh, you’re so full of shit. You’re the one doin’ most of the talkin’, like usual.”
“That’s not true,” you argue, but are interrupted when he opens his eyes. That’s not supposed to happen. He wears a mischievous grin as he sits up and his hands begin to slide up your sides. Your already pounding heart begins to beat even harder, faster, because Jesus Christ, he seems like he’s about to kiss you. “What are you doing?”
“Ya got three more seconds to kiss me. Three…”
“Joel, not funny,” you scold as he takes your face in his hands. 
“Two…”
You’re beginning to panic, “Joel–”
And then he fucking kisses you, the bastard! No tongue, just a sweet, gentle peck. It’s despicable. You shove him back on the couch and glare at him, “You kissed me!”
“How awful,” Joel says with mock sympathy before he leans forward and kisses you again. You shove him again, harder.
“You asshole. I was gonna do it.”
“No, you weren’t,” he replies plainly. He tries to kiss you again, but you keep your hands on his shoulders, pinning him to the couch cushion. Joel’s smirking, but you’re scowling.
“Yes, I was.”
“Okay,” Joel laughs, “We can redo it, then.”
You sigh, “No, Joel, we cannot redo it. You already ruined it.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
“Shit. S’too bad,” Joel feigns a sympathetic pout as he wraps both hands around your wrists that pin his shoulders, removing them from his body. He pushes your hands behind your back, holding them tightly as he kisses you again. And again, this time a little longer. Your lips begin to slide against his, and…god, they’re soft. The bastard.
“You’re ruining–”
“For the love of god, you’re drivin’ me fuckin’ nuts,” Joel mumbles against your lips. 
“I was supposed to–”
“No. You had your turn. We’re doin’ it my way now,” Joel says, “That means,” he kisses you, “M’gonna kiss you,” another kiss, “And fuck you,” another kiss, “As I please, because I love you,” he whispers. He kisses you before he maneuvers you to lay across the couch cushions, now pinning your wrists above your head under just one of his hands “And you can’t do a thing about it. Got it?” 
“I–”
He doesn’t let you argue further. Always so stubborn, you. “Good girl. Yeah, you got it,” Joel kisses you again. It’s different this time. Deeper, hungrier, messier. So much tension, time spent dancing around feelings, and it’s all out there now. His tongue slides past your lips and he tastes like cinnamon and sugar. You’ve been depriving yourself of him for too long. “And after all this, I’m gonna eat some of them cinnabons you made. And I won’t share, either.”
With his free hand, Joel unzips his pants to free his cock. “You know what you do to me, trouble?” he asks, breathing heavily. “Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock with all that squirmin’ ya did instead of kissin’ me,” Joel lifts the bottom of your apron up, exposing yourself to him, already dripping wet as he pulls off your soaked thong. You could have expected the ensemble wouldn’t have lasted long. And how are you already wet? One second you’re arguing about a stupid kiss and the next, he’s got you pinned beneath him and you’re dripping. You gasp as Joel gathers your slick with his fingers before stroking his cock, dipping his head back down to kiss you. He kisses your lips sloppily, then your cheek and down your jaw, your neck, nipping at the skin and soothing the marks with his tongue. It feels hot and passionate, and loving and dirty; all the best things at once. 
“Oh, god,” you moan as he kisses further down your body, still stroking his cock. He pauses momentarily to pull the strap of the apron over your head, then lifting your ass to untie the apron in the back. He pulls the fabric away from you quickly, tossing it on the floor. He kisses your chest, dividing his attention equally between your breasts. Pinching, twisting one nipple, kissing and licking the other, then switching. He leaves them wet with his spit as he kisses down your body, stopping before he reaches your pussy. “Joel,” you whine, “Please– need your mouth on me.”
“Oh, convenient. Now you want my mouth,” he breathes, teasing you.
“Please, I need it, need you,” you beg. 
“Wouldn’t ya know it, I need your mouth too.”
“So? Me first.”
“God, you’re a brat. Nice try,” Joel pulls away from your body, taking off his clothes quickly, “Said we’re doin’ things my way. Tryin’ somethin’ new today. Scoot,” he motions for you to move to the side. “On all fours, now. Come on, up,” you scoot to the side where Joel tells you to, slightly confused as you take the position. Joel takes his place next to you, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to his face. “Sit,” he tells you.
“Joel,” you begin to protest. Surely he doesn’t want you to actually sit on his face, right?
“You trust me.” It’s not a question. He knows you trust him, he knows you know he’ll take care of you. Of course he will. His voice is firm, confident, “I need you to sit,” as he pulls your center to his mouth, wasting no time in pressing kisses into your folds, slick and sticky with your growing arousal. Your breasts are pressed against his soft stomach, hands gripping his meaty thighs. Freeing an arm from its place at your hip, Joel wraps his hand around his cock, rock hard with a swollen blushed tip. He uses his other hand to reach for your head, pushing your face towards his member. “Take me in your mouth,” he says. “See? We’re compromising. S’what people in love do.” What an asshole.
Wrapping a hand around his thick cock, you guide his tip to your mouth, pressing wet kisses against the smooth skin. He tastes like he always does, familiar and masculine, salty and sweaty, as you trace over his swollen veins with your tongue. Joel groans against your cunt as he parts your lips, your tongue still painting delicate swirls on his skin. 
“Yeah, attagirl,” he praises in a raspy voice, “Best of both worlds, ain’t it?” Joel laps at your cunt, moaning softly at the way you taste, your arousal almost as sweet and delicious as your cinnamon rolls from earlier. He keeps you held firm against his face as he licks you, alternating between drawing firm lines with the tip of his tongue and fat stripes with his tongue flattened. 
“Mmmm,” you moan, voice muffled by his cock. You’ve got him as deep as you can take him, your nose nudging his balls slightly as you cup them gently in your hand. Joel surprises you when he dips his tongue into your pussy, tasting every bit of your pussy. You stop what you’re doing, the only thing your mind can focus on is the feeling of his tongue working magic inside you.
He swats your hip, “Know it feels good, but it goes both ways, sweetheart.”
“Please, Joel,” you beg. 
“You know the rules,” he says, “You stop, I stop. Keep goin’, you’re suckin’ my cock so good, sweetheart. So good. Always do, you know that?” You begin to bob your head on his cock once more, Joel rewarding you with wet, sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your pussy. It takes everything you have to focus on his pleasure when he attaches his lips to your clit, sucking gently on the sensitive spot and humming against you. It’s not long before that familiar feeling begins to build in your stomach, your first orgasm washing over you. 
You gasp for air, “Oh my god, Joel,” as he works you through your climax. Joel never lets up, not once. He keeps sucking, licking your clit, his facial hair tickling your skin and only adding to the overwhelming sensation. Once more, your peak begins to build. “I’m– fuck, I’m gonna come again.” 
“S’the fuckin’ point, my love,” Joel mumbles quietly, and you can feel his smirk. Despite the rules, you’re not even sucking his cock anymore, your face instead resting on his body, haphazardly stroking his length as pleasure erupts from your core. You’re a moaning mess, pussy dripping and soaking Joel’s face. 
Joel gives you a moment to catch your breath. Underneath you, he places one last kiss right on your clit before he gently slides himself out from your body. You’re hardly coherent as he meets you once more, this time his face inches above yours, caging you in his arms. His cock bounces between your legs and he leans down to kiss you again. His lips are wet and you can taste your arousal on his tongue. “Look at that, I stole another one,” he taunts. 
“You’re a dick,” you breathe against his mouth, your body betraying you as you can’t help the smile that forms on your lips.
“Yeah, yeah,” and in one swift motion, Joel lines himself up with your entrance and pushes into you. He kisses you again, swallowing your gasp as he parts your insides, letting you feel every inch of him. God, he feels good. You’ll never tire of that stretch, that delicious feeling of being completely full of him. 
“Oh, Joel,” you moan. He pulls out slowly, then slides back in at a harsher pace, grunting when he bottoms out inside of you. He takes both of your hands in his own, pinning them above your head as he rocks his hips. It’s tender yet dominant, just how everything is with Joel. Just how you like him. 
“Love this pussy,” he purrs, “An’ I love you so much,” as he fucks you deeply, intensely. You whimper through his thrusts, each stroke fluid and firm and intentional. He knows your body like his own. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. You always do.”
You writhe underneath him, relishing in the pleasure he gives you. His name and sweet whisperings of love are all you can speak, each word coming out in soft, broken cries. The wet, sticky noises of your pussy fill the room, along with your moans and Joel’s grunting, groaning, and heaving breaths. You tilt your head to the side, arms still pinned beneath Joel’s hands. You kiss his wrists and bite his skin there gently.
“Come with me, baby,” he coos, adjusting the angle and finding that sweet spot inside you, that spot he knows and loves. He lets go of your arms, one of his big, masculine hands now on your waist, the other thumbing your clit. “Give me one more, sweetheart.”
It’s all it takes. His words send you over the edge, your pussy squeezing him, walls fluttering and pulsing with every thrust of his cock. “Fuck, Joel,” you whimper as he fucks you through your orgasm. You wrap your legs around his body, the heels of your feet bouncing against his ass, simultaneously pulling him into a tight embrace with your now free arms. Everything about this moment with Joel is perfect, the way he smells, his hot skin, how close and safe you feel with him. It sends Joel over the edge, too. With your name on his lips, your cunt gushing and pulsing around his cock, he spills inside you, painting ribbons of himself deep inside you as he helps you ride out your own climax as long as he can. 
He pulls out of you with a soft groan. He cleans you quickly with his t-shirt, a warm smile on his lips. He kisses your forehead, then sits back against the couch, catching his breath. You sit up too, and Joel holds out his arm as an invitation for you to curl into his side. Your head resting on his shoulder, you stare at him. All of his beautiful features, warm brown eyes, his smile lines, his aquiline nose. And then, you do it. You kiss him. Long and deep, passionate. Hours could be passing, you don’t know. 
Joel breaks the kiss. He pulls away from you, no longer smiling warmly. Instead, he wears his teasing grin. “Finally,” he smirks. He holds up his hand for a high five. Fucker. You roll your eyes, lifting yourself off the couch and buttoning Joel’s flannel over yourself. You make your way to the kitchen, finding a plate and placing two cinnamon rolls on them. You reach for an old pencil that sits on the window sill, scribbling ‘Ellie’ on a piece of nearby scratch paper and leaving it next to the plate. A deal is a deal, after all. 
“Don’t leave me hangin’, now,” Joel calls out to you from the living room. You turn around and he’s waving his hand, nagging you about his abandoned high five. 
You flip him off. Asshole. 
1K notes · View notes
yourmidnightlover · 2 years
Text
truth or dare... don't lie
pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader
summary: during a game of truth or dare, a secret about reader is revealed that xavier offers to help her out with.
warnings: SMUT LMAO, unprotected PIV, fingering, oral (F receiving), virgin!reader, kinda soft sex tbh, reader loses her v-card bc i'm projecting, kent, bianca, and yoko are kinda mean in this i'm not gonna lie, theres a bit of angst at first but then it gets really smutty and comforting
a/n: THIS IS NOT EDITED! i AM working on a part two to my series, but i have finals this week and can't focus enough to develop the plot how i planned so you're getting this instead to tide you over... wooo! enjoy horn-dogs :)
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"it's your turn, y/n!" bianca started giggling as she took another sip of whatever alcoholic mixture she decided to deliver this time.
somehow you, enid, wednesday, ajax, xavier, bianca, kent, and yoko were playing a skewed version of truth or dare in xaviers single room. basically, it was the same premise of you choose a truth or a dare, but if you didn't complete the task or answer the truth then you had to strip. so... strip truth or dare.
it's not like anyone really cared, it was a week before winter break, and everyone had already finished their exams for the semester. luckily you were even able to have thing sneak into the teachers' lounge and bag some extra goodies, which was mostly only alcohol and little debbie snacks.
"what'll it be, y/l/n?" bianca continued to ask you. "truth or dare... or strip?"
you see, there was one MORE issue at hand...
you were down to your dress.
having already taken off your jacket, socks, and even your necklace, you were desperate to remain in the game with your integrity intact, although you were sure most of them wouldn't remember a thing because they had drank so much. except for wednesday, something about making sure enid got back to the dorm safely... blah blah blah.
well, and xavier, but you weren't sure why he wasn't drinking much on his end. maybe he was simply uncomfortable with it, or wanted to be the designated walk-er, helping everyone to their respective dorms. that's part of why you like him so much. he's so sweet and thoughtful, even when people choose to inebriate themselves beyond belief with alcohol. it wouldn't happen, and you know that. but a little schoolgirl crush never hurt anyone, right?
regardless, you needed something easy, so you remained covered and not embarrassed, "truth."
"boring!" enid rang out, hands cupping around her mouth to symbolize a megaphone.
"she is down to just her dress and whatever is underneath," wednesday pointed out with a nod. you turned to see xavier simply looking down at his phone, more than uninterested in the game.
"fine," you sighed. "i choose dare," you said smugly, noticing xaviers eyebrows raise as he made eye contact with you before you abruptly looked the other direction.
"there we go!" bianca clapped as the others cheered with her. "that's what i'm talking about y/n," she put her finger to her chin as if she were in deep thought with a quiet 'hmmm,' "i dare you to sit in xavier's lap for the rest of the game!"
"really?" your surprise was practically impossible to hide. "i don't think he'd be very comfortable with that, b."
"i'm cool with it if you are, y/n/n," he gave you a smile, one that you didn't recognize. it wasn't his 'i'm proud of you smile' or his 'you fucked up again' smile, no. this was a new one. this one seemed darker. mysterious. enticing.
you liked it.
"i-i'm cool with it," and with that, you got up and walked in his direction.
he had been sitting at his desk the whole time, in his comfy little chair. he pat his lap three times before you rolled your eyes at him and sat down on his lap, facing the same way as him. you tried not to put much weight on him, so you opted to sit on the very edge of his knees and let your tiptoes hold most of your weight.
"okay that can't be comfortable," xavier pointed out. "here," he carefully lifted you just enough to maneuver you over his lap, now sideways with your back against one armrest and your feet dangling over the other. "better?"
"mhmm, thanks," you smiled as you clasped your hands in your lap, one of xavier's arms still wrapped around your waist comfortably. it felt nice, like it belonged there.
from there on the game got a bit more... risqué. now there were kisses dared on cheeks, first time stories being drawn out, and so much more.
"xavier," ajax pointed at him, slurring his words with a big grin decorating his face. "truth or dare!"
"hmm..." he acted deep in thought. "dare."
"i dare you..." he clearly hadn't thought that far in advance, which is when enid leaned over and whispered something you couldn't make out to him. "oh that's good!," ajax whisper yelled, not being able to properly sense his own volume. "i dare you, xavier, to kiss y/n on the neck until your next turn!"
you turned to face him, your lips pressed into a thin line, praying that he couldn't see the rosy red blush that was surely adorning your cheeks by now.
"are you okay with that?" he asked, whispering in your ear so the others couldn't hear. once he got your quiet, but detectable 'mhmm,' he accepted the dare. "alright," with that, he got to work.
he pressed a feather-light kiss to your neck at first, and you thought you would be fine if this is what he would be doing the entire time. that was, until he began to press slightly open-mouthed kisses to your neck, occasionally gently nipping the area before soothing over it with his tongue.
there was no doubt in your mind that he could tell your heartbeat was racing. between feeling his hair brushing on the sensitive skin, and his tongue soothing his love-bites, you were about to explode. your hips were practically moving on their own at this point, trying to get whatever friction you could.
"hey," you felt xavier's hands grab your hips firmly. "if you don't stop moving your hips like that there's gonna be a mess between us that i really don't wanna clean up."
"what do you-" he shifted your hips up a bit more, hitting something a bit harder than his thighs were. "oh-is-is that...?"
"yea," he got closer to your ear, beginning to suck on the lobe and continuing his ministrations.
"in the school bathroom!" bianca rang out, laughing at whatever story kent was telling this time.
"i think it's y/n's turn again," kent diverted everyone's attention to you, so you tried to ignore xavier sucking on your neck like a leech, albeit a really hot one, to get through this.
"oh, and it's my turn," yoko cheered. "truth or dare, y/n?"
you really didn't think you'd be able to survive whatever dare they would throw your way, not in the slightest, which is why you chose: "truth."
"alright," yoko looked towards bianca and kent before asking, "what was your first time like?"
ajax might as well have ripped his beenie off then and there because you froze. you hadn't done it. you haven't gotten past giving a guy a handjob, let alone sex.
you didn't know how long you were quiet for, but you did notice when xavier stopped his kissing. you could practically feel his stare right on your face. you wanted it to go away. you wanted to disappear. it was humiliating, really. at least you thought it was until...
"you haven't, have you?" kent chuckled as bianca stifled a laugh.
"are you serious?" yoko asked incredulously. "well, i guess it makes sense to me," she shrugged as you tore yourself off of xavier's body, having to pry his hand away from your waist.
"hey," he held onto your hand softly and looked at you with what you thought to be puppy-dog eyes, you didn't have the best view due to the tears blocking your eyes.
"just..." you sighed as you took your hand out of his and ran out of his room, dorm, and the building as a whole. you just wanted to walk around, feel comfortable. then it hit you that there was always one place where you felt comfortable.
after around 15 minutes of walking around to clear your head, you got to xavier's paint shed. you had gone there nearly every time you needed help with homework, needed some advice, or if you simply missed him. it's amazing that even though he wasn't there, you could still smell his presence, the mahogany and woods scent that felt like home to you now.
you had made several forts in the place before, having secret sleepovers with each other countless times just because you wanted to. so, you brought out the mattress that was set up against the wall, put the fitted sheet on it and set up the bed as usual before plopping down on it.
you didn't even want to cry anymore. you just wanted to disappear. you felt like such a loser. i mean, why is that such a big deal anyway? it's just sex. but then again, if it's 'just sex' then why haven't you just done it?
"y/n/n?" xaviers voice called out as he knocked on the door of the shed. "look, i know you're in there. just wanted you to know that i kicked everyone out, okay?" you stayed quiet. "y/n," he sighed. "you know that just because you haven't... yknow, doesn't mean anything right? what yoko was saying... she doesn't make sense. because anyone would be so lucky to have you. you're unbelievably kind, and generous, witty, hilarious... and beautiful. you're beautiful, y/n. please just let me in? i wanna talk to your face, not some door."
you sniffled with a laugh, "it's been unlocked the whole time, idiot."
"hey, now," he called as he walked through the door, ducking down a little as to not hit his head on the low hanging fixtures. "why'd you run like that?" he as beside you on the bed, placing your long-forgotten items of clothing on one of the tables.
"why wouldn't i?" you turned the question on him. "i was humiliated," you began to pick at your nails. "i mean, you saw what happened. i was already flustered because you were kissing my neck and then i felt your boner because i couldn't just sit fucking still, which was embarrassing enough, but then the guy i like finds out i'm a virgin too! it was just too much. and then they were laughing at me and.... yea," you took a deep breath once you were done rambling.
"the guy you like?"
"you can't tell me you still don't know," you rolled your eyes once more before xavier grabbed onto your hands to stop you from picking at them like he normally does. "you. you know. it's you."
he didn't even say anything. it wasn't until you mustered up the courage to look at him that you saw a smile gracing his face.
"then you should know why ajax and enid dared me to do that to you in the first place," xavier scooted closer to you on the bed. placing one of his hands on your thigh. "i told them a couple weeks ago that i was starting to really, really like you-as more than friends. they went crazy, telling me you felt the same and everything, but i couldn't believe it. i mean, you're just... you're everything, y'know?
"i meant everything i said when i was outside. you're so sweet, and smart, and god, it takes everything in me not to kiss you when you look at me. because when you look at me, you really see me," xavier finished.
"kiss me," you told him in a soft tone.
"what?" his brows furrowed before you, with a shocking wave of confidence, swung one leg over his lap, now facing him and straddling his lap. his hands went to your waist
"i said kiss me," you leaned in closer to him. "please."
it didn't take anything else for him to bring one hand up to cup your face before finally connecting your lips. it wasn't like fireworks went off, or cannons bursted. it was more like a sense of belonging, welcomeness, and home. your lips had been craving him for so long, it was a sweet, cold treat in the summer as your tongues began to glide with one another.
once again, your hips couldn't contain themselves as they began to rock back and forth on his lap, this time successfully getting the desired friction exactly where you wanted it. you sighed into his mouth, your hands dragging through his hair as he began to nurse the same neck he was kissing nearly 45 minutes ago.
"i thought that would be the only time i'd have you to myself," xavier droned on. "i might've gone a bit overboard..." he laughed as he traced circles on your neck.
"what...?" you backed away from him before he picked up his phone, showing you with the selfie side of the camera how he had littered your neck with deep hickeys. "xavier!" you playfully shoved his shoulder.
"you better get used to it," he shrugged with a sly grin. "i can be territorial at times."
"god, as if you couldn't get any hotter," you began to peel off your dress, reaching for the hem before xavier swatted your hands away.
"let me," he ordered, you listened immediately, retracting your hands and placing them on his shoulders as he helped you rid yourself of your dress. "i don't even understand why you wore this since it's freezing outside."
"hmm," you mockingly acted like you were thinking. "well, when the guy i like is going to be in a place with booze, there might be certain possibilities and i wanted to look nice."
"you look better than nice," he pressed your lips together once more. "i was hard long before you even sat on my lap, y/n/n."
"please fuck me?" your voice was soft and whiny. "please? i want you, i just need you to-to y'know... please, xay?"
"you sound so pretty when you beg for me," he let his hand trace your neck before he buried his hand in your hair, gently tugging it back before admiring you in your nearly naked state.
"xay, please?" you were holding onto the hem of his t-shirt, nearly stretching it out with your begging.
"okay, love," he chuckled before swiftly tossing his shirt over his head, letting it land somewhere he wasn't concerned with. "now we're a bit more even, yea?"
"i just... i need you..." you were a squirming mess in his lap, to think an hour and a half ago you were pleading with yourself to keep your dignity and now you were begging for xavier...
"what do you need from me?" he teased, letting one of his hands trail down your front, hovering over your center. "i need to hear you say it for me. tell me."
"i need you," you sighed as you buried your head in his neck. "i need you to make me... make me cum?"
he chuckled maniacally, "is that a question? i thought i told you to tell me what you want?"
"please just make me cum xavier!" your frustration showed as you began to lazily press kisses to his neck. "please?"
he swiftly turned over so you were laying on the pillow at the top of the bed, him hovering over you with his hair falling to your face. he began pressing kisses down your body, gently squeezing your breasts and sucking on your nipples. eventually, after a few minutes of teasing, he reached your center. he moved your panties down your legs and began pressing kisses to your thighs, alternating between each one.
"has anyone ever done this for you before?" you shook your head 'no.' "is it alright if i do?"
"anything, xay, anything, please," you nodded as your hands tangled into his hair.
he pressed gentle kisses around your clit before licking one line through your slit, lapping up your juices like a man starved. you heard him moan into your pussy, the vibrations shooting through your core shocking you more than you thought possible. you reactively tugged on his hair, tossing your head back as he continued, now sucking gently, very softly, on your clit.
"oh my fuck," you breathed out, looking down at xavier to find his eyes fixated on you and your reaction. "god, you look so pretty, xay."
you felt him smile against your pussy, not letting himself get distracted by little compliments that he was sure melted his heart completely. one of his hands was gripping your thigh so hard you were sure there would be marks the next morning, the other hand was placed on your lower stomach, pressing down just slightly. he used the hand that was rasping your thigh and gently pushed a single finger in.
your mouth formed in an 'o' shape at the intrusion. his fingers were much longer than your own, and when he curled it inside of you, you swore you could see stars in his eyes as he continued to suck and kiss your clit. he gently thrusted his finger in and out a few times before adding a second finger.
"please don't stop," you were gripping his hair so tight you were surprised it hadn't ripped out. "'m so close, xay."
he stopped sucking your clit momentarily to say: "be sure to look at me when you cum."
you nodded dumbly as he got back to work, and it wasn't long until you were at that edge that no other man has ever been successful in bringing you to. at first you threw your head back before you remembered what you had promised him. with a few more thrusts of his fingers, you saw the look of pride on his face when he felt you squeezing his fingers in a vice grip, your mouth dropped open completely as pornographic moans left your mouth.
"fuck, yes, xavier!" you ground against his mouth as he worked you down from your high. "holy shit," your chest was heaving as he kissed his way back up your body.
he hovered over you as he sucked on the same two fingers that were just inside you, groaning, "did i tell you how amazing you taste?"
"will you fuck me now?" you reached down between the two of you to palm him through his sweatpants. "i really, really want you."
"i don't want you to just want to do this because you want to get it over with," you could sense the sincerity in his tone. "i want this to be more than just a hookup."
"it's not, xavier," you cupped his face with one hand. "i assure you, it's not," you smiled as he pressed your foreheads together. "you mean so much more to me than just one amazing night, xay."
"are you sure you want to do this?"
"yes."
"wait, i don't have anything..." xavier hinted with a worried look on his face.
"well, i'm obviously clean, and i've been on the pill since the eighth grade," you shrugged. "if you want..."
"really?" his eyes widened at the thought, you nodded. "i've never... shit. this'll be a new experience for the both of us."
after a bit of shuffling, xavier lined himself up at your entrance, looking at you one more time for confirmation. as he entered you, it was like the wind was knocked out of you. your arms wrapped around his neck as he continued to push himself into you. at a certain point, you thought it was never-ending.
"god, you're so tight," he breathed into your neck, pressing a kiss to one of your hickeys as he continued.
your head was thrown back as he finally bottomed out in you, one of your arms wrapped around his waist while the other was around his neck with your hand buried in his hair.
"so deep," you closed your eyes at the sensation. "'s like you're in my stomach, holy fuck."
he pressed down on that same spot he had earlier, very gentle, but you felt it so, so much. "is that where?" you nodded fervently.
"please move, xay, please," your hand was practically clawing at his back.
"i'm gonna go slow, okay?" you nodded at his words. "if you change your mind about anything at all, say the word and i'll stop, alright?"
"okay," you agreed with a smile as he slowly pulled back out before reentering at the exact same pace.
with each thrust, his pace increased. your moans' volume increased too. it was as if each whimper, moan, and plea was simply egging him on and bringing him to the end of that wonderful precipice of pleasure.
"you look fucking perfect," his own groans and huffs of pleasure rang out. "such pretty tits," he messily grabbed one of them. when he brought his hand down to play with your clit, you knew you weren't going to last much longer. "and such a pretty pussy for me. all mine, y/n/n. all mine."
"god, it's-i'm..." you were cut off by a guttural moan. "i need to cum. i'm gonna cum! xavier, please don't stop! please!"
"where do you want it?"
"inside, please!" you huffed out, clawing at his back as you whimpered in his ear. "need it so bad."
"say you're mine," he ordered. you could feel his dick pulsing inside of you.
"i'm-oh god," you cried out once more, tears forming at your lash line. "i'm yours! i've always been yours, xay, please! fuck!" for the second time, xavier was able to bring you off that cliff, this time he followed suit.
"so fucking pretty when you cum," xavier added before with a few more thrusts, his thick cum coated your walls. "oh fuck."
"oh my god," you sighed out as xavier slumped against your body, laying completely on top of you.
"you got that right," you could feel his smile against your shoulder before he began to press kisses against your warm skin. "here," he reluctantly got up from his position after carefully pulling out of you, tucking himself back into his sweats, and reached for one of his recently cleaned towels (he had a rotation for them, alright?). he began to wipe up your thighs, being very gentle at your center.
"xavier?" you called before he laid back down.
"yea?" he looked at your worriedly before you smiled, simply asking: "can i wear your shirt to sleep?"
a bright smile made its way to his face, "of course, yea," he helped you poke your arms and head through the shirt before he stepped back, admiring you in it. "i almost like this on you more than nothing on you. almost."
"xavier!" you called before shoving him to the side. "you perv."
"you like this 'perv,' as you call it," he rolled his eyes as he began to cuddle with you on the mattress.
"i wanna lay on you," you tried to get onto your knees to maneuver your way on top before he had to catch your arm.
"let me help you a bit," he tried to hide his smug smile while he rolled the two of you over.
"i'm never gonna live this down," you shook your head as he raked his fingers through your hair.
"nope," you laid in the most comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again: "y/n?"
"mhmm?"
"i might've lied earlier when i said that i told ajax and enid that i liked you," you could sense a bit of restriction in his tone.
"what do you mean?" you held your breath.
"i told them the truth," he pressed a kiss to your forehead, getting your attention so you were looking in his eyes. "that i'm in love with you."
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withleeknow · 5 months
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how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin
pairing: jisung x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, mentions of periods bc duhhh erhm note: ok so i'm REALLY not sure what this is lmao but i switched up entirely compared to the first installation (with minho) and i think this is the format i'll be sticking with for the rest of the members. i'm still just experimenting and trying to figure how i want to approach doing drabbles/drabble series like this so pls bear with me a little for now lol
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi
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jisung, who can't be trusted with even the simplest of tasks. you should've known better. (and honestly? you did know better, which probably makes the whole thing so much worse.)
jisung, whom you ask to run to the store just because you were too lazy to brave the evening chill yourself and get the shit you need.
jisung, who texts you what size pussy u wear? while he stands in the middle of the aisle, feeling like he's illiterate as he's surrounded by products of different colors and shapes and sizes and wings.
jisung, whose eyes catch a specific pink packaging with pretty flowers that makes him pull out his phone and snap you a picture. this one looks better. yours is boring, he'd text you, to which you'd replied with a dozen question marks before calling him an idiot and telling him to leave the fancy pads and hurry home with the ones you usually use.
jisung, who returns about thirty minutes later holding two large bags in his hands, which definitely contain a lot more than what you had sent him out for - just a pack of overnight pads and some sweets.
jisung, who kisses you in greeting as your eyes narrow suspiciously, then he'd proudly show off the goodies that you didn't need - an assortment of sour candies and chocolates, chips, ice cream bars, your favorite cookies, and lastly, a random purple pouch.
jisung, whose love language looks a lot like making you get diabetes whenever your time of the month rolls around.
jisung, who beams like a kid in a candy store when you ask him about the pouch with a brow raised. "look!" he'd beam, holding the little thing up like it's the most magical invention he's ever come across in his entire life. "it holds your pads! and it has unicorns on it!"
jisung, who doesn't deflate at all when you tell him that you already have one, but instead, he'd tell you to ditch the one you have because it's too "boring" (re: it doesn't have unicorns.)
jisung, who volunteers to carry the pouch for you the next time you go out together, musing to himself about whether or not he should add a little strap so he could wear it like a crossbody bag, not even batting an eye when you stare at him and gape in disbelief.
jisung, who really uses your shark week as an excuse to buy dumb shit for himself and stuff you full of treats.
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 25.04.2024]
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night-raven-tattler · 9 months
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Love beyond spoken words - part 2
Summary: Everyone has a way of saying "I love you" without using those three words.
Characters: Jamil, Rook, Idia, Sebek × GN!Reader (separate, romantic)
Other parts of the series: Ace, Jack, Azul
Warnings: none
By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.
-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
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Jamil was going through his personalised version of the stages of grief while stacking away the boxes of expensive fabric Kalim brought from Silk City that he promised to give to Professor Crewel
Without his knowledge, as always
But this time wasn't too bad, since you were there to help him with the boxes
And he quite enjoyed your company, so the opportunist in him simply refused to deny himself of you when you kindly offered to lend him a helping hand
He even offered you one of his hair ties when your hair kept falling on your face
You knew Jamil had a certain possesiveness over his personal belongings, so you couldn't help but feel a bit flustered at the offer
You still accepted the hair tie, however
After your finished putting the boxes away, Grim came into the room looking for you because the Headmage requested your help with some errand
And you didn't get the chance to hand Jamil his hair tie back
Jamil was surprised by how little it bothered him that his hair tie was with you; instead of being upset you took something from him like he expected he'd feel, he was somewhat glad you had something of his with you
...Maybe it was silly, it was just a hair tie after all
Yet, it almost made him feel like he was claiming you in some way-
A thought so embarassing he had to cover his whole face with his hoodie
He was walking in the hallways with Kalim as his Housewarden talked about The Great Seven know what, when Kalim suddenly stopped himself mid-rant and fished something out of his pocket
"I totally forgot! Reader bumped into me today and told me to give this to you!"
It was a small paper bag with a snake doodled on it
Jamil snatched it from Kalim, not wanting him to hold something from you any longer, and opened the bag
Inside he found a little note and two hair ties: the one he gave you, and another one that had a small charm with your favorite symbol on it
"I know you don't like when people use your things, so I wanted to give it back. I also gave you one of mine so take care of it!"
He didn't understand the logic behind you giving him your own hair tie, but he took the bag from you and hid it carefully in his pocket, where he occasionally let his hands rest throughout the day
Jamil was very curious about your little offering, so he asked you about it over text
"I wanted to offer it to you as an apology for holding onto your stuff for too long so you won't be mad at me."
Your goody-two-shoes silly logic made him chuckle
As he was about to playfully scold you for your thinking, he saw another chat bubble coming from you that made him drop his phone
"...besides, is it really that bad that I wanted you to have something of mine too?"
Cheeks burning with fluster, he texted you a quick goodnight before he put his phone onto his nightstand, face down so not even the inanimate object could see him like this
Jamil struggled with the idea of you wanting to leave your mark on him, the same selfish idea he carried in his heart
Yet, he didn't mind either of your selfishness
That's why you found Jamil's hair tie under your desk first thing in the morning, a small note attached to it
"If I will have to carry something that belongs to you with me, it wouldn't be fair if you didn't do the same."
『••✎••』
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You were enjoying your break outside when you heard a sharp object hit the tree you were leaning against, and based on the piece of paper attached to it, someone special wanted to tell you something
"My love, a whisper
My arrow, a listener
A most blessed messenger
It'll seek your heart to alter
For your blush I'm after."
Your degree in the language of Rook Hunt told you several things: 1. He was on a mission to live up to his name and hunt for your heart... or something
And 2. He really liked his "arrow of love" metaphors
Rook also was likely very amused by how on the nose he was being by sending you love poems via arrow aimed at your surroundings
It happened often enough for you to become unable to differenciate between the quickening pace of your heart from the spook and the one from knowing your boyfriend wanted to remind you of his love for you
Rook had some questionable ways of making your heart skip a beat, and it was borderline annoying how good he was at getting what he wanted
Something about the message itself was a bit off to you
Wasn't counterproductive for a hunter to let its prey know that he was after it?
You never knew what Rook was about to do next, and your heartbeat quickened once again with anticipation for his next move
...which happened soon enough
If the Headmage knew of the arrow currently stuck to your door and damaging the school property, you'd be in trouble
You just wanted to rest peacefully after your classes, but it seemed like Rook had other plans
"My eyes give gentle kisses to your heart
I want to read you, I want to learn you
The world in your chest, your own flow of art
Painted in the loveliest of hues."
You looked around, suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of being watched
At this point you were convinced he was toying with you, like a cat after it caught a mouse
But Rook had plans other than to harm you...
He enjoyed the chase, maybe a bit at the expense of your heart, which would jump out of your chest at every over the top declaration of love
You could think of only one way to somewhat get back at him
The vice housewarden was scribbling in his notebook at his desk when he heard footsteps nearing his room, followed by a knock at the door
He smiled and opened the door, revealing your flustered self, fidgeting with a piece of paper in your hands
"Roses are red
You look very merry
I'm not good at writing poems
So just kiss me already."
Rook's eyes widened for a few seconds before he burst into a delighter laughter as he wrapped his arms around you
You thought his over the top affection was what affected you the most, but you were so wrong
All along, it was the little things that made your heart explode
His laughter and the beating of your heart were the only melody echoing in your ears, while your face was being admired by Rook's lovesick eyes
"As you wish, mon amour."
『••✎••』
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When you and Idia started dating, you knew he was a peculiar guy
He texted you "good morning" at 5 P.M., he liked to tease you about your grades and wishing the school system was digitalized so he could hack into the school and modify your grades, and he liked gifting you small, cute robots that he built during his sleepless nights
You were dedicated to peel off every layer of your angsty, dramatic, onion of a lover and try to understand his ways of showing he cares about you
Unfortunately, the first obstacle you had to face was his way of texting you
Idia was both a genius and a smartass: he liked sending you secret messages through emojis, but he'd never give you any hint to help you decode them
You rolled your eyes as his favorite combo of emojis popped onto your screen through the notification of your messaging app
"➡️👤🛠️👆💙➡️🤪"
You suspected he either liked testing your abilities to decypher his code, or he was to afraid to outright say what he felt
It's not like Idia was shy in his affections, as peculiar as they were
It was more like he was... hesitant
Afraid, even
"I will take that as a compliment"
You watched as the chat bubble appeared on your screen, carrying Idia's reply
"whehehe did you really look at a code with unknown meaning and assumed it was positive? lmaooooo"
Both of you knew he wouldn't do that
Not because he wasn't capable of it, but because Ortho would threaten to scratch up his P.E. gear again
"Not my fault you sent me code instead of telling me how pretty we both know you think I am"
"oooooo someone's confident 💘💘💘💘"
Well, at least that one was easy enough to decypher
The code Idia sent to you always came out of nowhere, like a sudden stream of thoughts that he couldn't keep to himself
It was sweet, really, and it wasn't like you disliked his little codes
Being a gamer at heart, Idia loved games, and they were an important part of him
If Idia needed some sort of puzzle to express himself, you decided to play along
You were determined to wait until Idia became able to tell you outright how he felt
Maybe one day
That's what Idia also told himself as he stared at the sentence he kept typing and deleting over and over in your conversation
"you make my heart go wild"
Maybe one day...
『••✎••』
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"And, because of General Zephyrus, royal green has become a color in Briar Valley that represents sentiments of love and affection for your beloved. It was historically used in clothing during duels by the partner that was not participating..."
You had no idea what you did to receive a special history lesson from Professor Zigvolt himself, but you loved Sebek so you listened to him attentively
It was one of the rare occasions in which he was not talking about Malleus, and it was almost cute to see how worked up he got for topics outside of his guard duty
Not like he wasn't always cute
"Are you even listening, human?!"
...You were not stupid enough to admit you kind of spaced out a little
"Yeah, you were talking about, uh... Something about green clothes?"
Sebek raised his eyebrow and watched you suspiciously, while you were trying not to avoid his piercing gaze and tell on yourself
"... Well, yes. It was a tradition for unmarried partners to express their love through green accessories, such as scarves and..."
Even if he seemed upset on the surface, Sebek was more than eager to share part of his culture with you
The way he'd get so animated about his homeland, his liege, his passions...
You could watch him all day
Unfortunately, the bell indicating the end of your break had the both of you part ways
Before Sebek walked away, he reminded you of the equestrian club's upcoming show jumping competition against Royal Sword Academy
And before he could shily request your presence, you told him you'll be there, and sent his blushy self back to his classes
You didn't want to just be there and attend, however: you wanted to show your appreciation for Sebek
And you remembered his little rant about green accessories as showcases of love in Briar Valley
Which brought you to Sam's the next day, where you bumped into Lilia
Lucky for you, since you couldn't remember which shade of green was the one Sebek was talking about...
Your eyes fell upon a light green scarf, resembling the trademark Diasomnia green, and asked Lilia if this color was good to wear
Lilia's eyes widened before his face twisted into a mischievous grin before he agreed with your choice
So you wrapped it around your wrist the day of the competition and made sure it was as easy to spot as possible
Sebek was warming up with his horse when he spotted you in the growing crowd...
...And you watched him as he almost fell off his horse when he saw the scarf wrapped around the hand you were waving at him with
You watched how he debated between going to you and resuming his warmup for what felt like an eternity, but the beginning of the competition was announced so he settled on talking to you later
On his first break, he marched right to you, red as a tomato and vaguely resembling a broken traffic light
"HUMAN! I can't believe you would do this in such a public setting without telling me first! In Briar Valley it's custom for the knight to wrap the scarf around their desired partner after the duel to signal their engagement! Was my lecture not clear enough?!"
You were used to Sebek getting randomly agitated about stuff but-
-Wait.
"ENGAGEMENT?!"
Sebek turned even redder, something you thought was impossible
"YES?! Light green is a sign of engagement!"
You head was full of questions upon questions
Did you just publicly more or less propose to Sebek?
And he was mad because you didn't tell him beforehand, not because of the accidentally proposal itself?!
Now you wanted a horse to fall off of
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months
Text
the dead ringer
buttercup, chapter three
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a/n: yeah, this did happen to me in real life, although it happened on a bus so i couldn't immediately get away... ANYWAYS! enjoy this hurt/comfort heavy chapter!
summary: “I think I know something that might help a bit.”
warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, crying, panic attacks, matt using his superpowers for the sake of hurt/comfort, boxing
word count: 2057
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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Drizzling the flour into the wide bowl, like a dusty snowfall, you watched the number on the scale carefully as you neared the desired number. Though just before you hit it, Walter’s head suddenly poked in through the doorway leading behind the counter and interrupted you and Howard’s all-too-important discussion on what the day’s music choice should be. 
“Hey, Y/n? There’s someone here to see you.”
Laying down the scoop still holding a bit of flour, you dragged your palms down the brown apron tied around your frame and exited the kitchen. A bright smile spread across your face and crinkled up your gaze as you spotted who was standing on the other side of the counter. 
“Matt, hey–, oh my god,” you then suddenly noticed the bruising that blossomed out from under his tinted glasses and stretched up over the patched-up scrape that split his left brow, “what happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just wasn’t paying attention last night, tripped and fell, that’s all,” he waved a hand, “I just wanted to stop by on my way to work, get a round of coffees to-go for everyone and perhaps some breakfast for myself, just whatever you think I’d like.”
“You’ll let me pick?” your eyebrows rose slightly. 
But Matt simply smiled and said, “I trust your judgment,” his grip shifted gently on the cane standing tall before his chest. 
As you moved to make the coffees, “alright,” you drew out a pondering breath, “are you in the mood for something sweet or savoury?”
Thinking about it a second, he uttered, “savoury.”
“Do you like sandwiches?” you popped the lids on the to-go cups. When he nodded, you placed the coffees in a little cardboard tray, “okay, I think you’ll like this one,” grabbed a brown paper bag and moved further down the counter, “it’s made with focaccia and has pesto in it as well as some tomatoes and cheese and stuff.” 
“That sounds amazing.”
“I also–, you know what? I’ll be right back,” you then abruptly turned and momentarily disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing a few of the pillowy buns still on the cooling rack into a bag. As you returned, you also snuck a hand into the display case and stuffed a few other goodies into the sack, “just for the others, if they want,” you placed the bundle onto the counter beside the coffees, “I just pulled them out of the oven a bit ago and they’re still warm.”
“What is it?” Matt tilted his chin. 
“Uh, some raisin buns, but I also threw two croissants in there in case they didn’t like raisins...” 
A soft smile warmed his bruised features as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, “what do I owe you?”
“Oh no,” your hands waved lightly before you, “it’s on the house.”
“Y/n, come on,” he cocked his head. 
“Fine,” you light-heartedly sighed, “if you really wanna sing for your supper, then I’ll cash it in at a later date. I don’t know, maybe if I get arrested someday or something you could help me out.”
“You don’t have to bribe me with free baked goods for that.”
“No, but it sure doesn’t hurt, does it?” you chuckled. 
“No,” he joined in as he reached for the bags, “I guess it doesn’t.”
“You want some help carrying it?” you asked, hope seeping through your tone, “I could take my break and walk with you the rest of the way.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, we just got through the morning rush, they’ll be fine without me for–, I don’t know, 15 minutes or however long it’ll take to walk to your office and back.”
“Alright, thanks,” he smiled, one paper bag hooked in the fingers that also clutched the cane.  
“I’m just gonna go grab my jacket, one second,” you said before ducking into the back to do so, letting your uncles know as you slipped out of your comfortable work clogs and into your sneakers. 
You ended up dividing the load, with you carrying the coffees and the last bag in one arm, though a few protests left you at first, begging him to let you carry all of it, they melted away as his free hand enveloped yours. 
When you reached his office, your arms wrapped around his frame as you hugged him long enough for your heartbeats to sync up, and just as you pulled away, his wide palms still warm on your back, you leaned in and planted a brief peck on his scruffy cheek. 
One of his hands swept up to meet the side of your face as your lips retracted. You pulled back so slowly that you weren’t sure you were moving at all, being drawn in by his warmth like a moth to a flame. 
His nose gently grazed against yours as he let himself linger, but just as your eyes fluttered shut in expectance that he’d kiss you, his warmth withdrew and he slowly breathed, “have a good day.” 
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In a matter of seconds, you had gone from giggling, glancing down at some silly joke on your phone as you walked home, to panic instantly kicking in as a passerby’s voice pierced your soul and made your blood run cold.
Glancing around, you saw a stranger standing off to the side and yapping into his phone. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t Michael, but it sounded exactly like him, so much so that the tone sent your body right back to that very night as if no time had passed at all.
Willing your body to move, forcing it to conquer the short rest of the way home, once your front door shut behind you and your quiet apartment consumed you, painful sobs began to burst out of your trembling frame. Hyperventilating, you crashed into the nearby wall of the entryway directly across from the door, incapable of getting deeper into your home. 
Soon, a quiet and surprising knock found your door. 
“Y/n?” the worried tone of your neighbour sounded from the other side. 
Your shaky voice came out no louder than a whisper, “M-Matt?” 
There might not have been any other instances you could recall where accidentally forgetting to lock your door turned out for the better, because when Matt then tried the handle, it gently complied. 
Shutting it behind him, he rushed to you, “hey, hey,” he uttered softly, a hand soothingly finding your arm, “what’s going on?”
Attempting an answer, “I–, I–,” only incoherent sobs managed to seep from you. 
“Okay, alright,” he sucked in a controlled breath, one of his hands sliding up to the strap of your backpack, “how about we start by getting all the way inside, huh?” gently gliding it off you and resting the bag on the floor. 
You let yourself lean into him fully as he supported you on the short journey towards the couch. Wobbly taking a seat, his touch left you as he settled beside you.
Spine curving, you buried your puffy face in your trembling hands, letting the whole world drift away as small lakes were birthed within your palms from your pain. 
When the sobs eventually began to subsite, growing further and farther apart, your frame slowly unfurled. Instinctively flicking your hands before your form, you tried to physically shake even a fraction of the excruciating sensation off of you, but without success. 
Matt hadn’t moved an inch, simply stayed there right beside you. 
When your quiet voice eventually filled space, it came out broken and overflowing with emotion, “I thought it was him… it wasn’t, b-but it sounded exactly like him… I’ve done double takes every time I saw a stranger with the same haircut or felt nauseous every time I encountered the same name, but this really did sound like him. Same voice, same accent, same everything… but it wasn’t him… it wasn’t… it just sent me right back, you know?”
Hesitantly, you grasped his hand in yours, expecting the contact to only make it worse, to somehow taint and ruin his wonderful and soothing touch, but it didn’t, he didn’t. It was Matt. 
Trying to regain control of your breathing, you shakily sucked in deep breaths, feeling your gulps of air slowly become calmer and migrate from the very top of your chest, down to expand your sore stomach. Eyes only half open and utterly exhausted, you noticed that your head was now leaning against Matt’s shoulder. 
Glancing hazily down at yourself, you muttered, “fuck… I still have my shoes and jacket on…”
Reaching down, he offered, “here,” before sliding your coat off, resting it on the back of the couch, and leaning down to pull your shoes off. 
Curling your legs up onto the couch, the shift in your position offered you more relief than you’d expected. As you attempted to get as comfortable as you possibly could in the state you were in, you snatched up Matt’s hand once more. 
Offering your palm a soothing squeeze, he asked quietly, “what do you need, huh? What can I do?”
“I–…” you thought, your brain just as drained as your body was, “I don’t know… maybe–… maybe just be here a bit?”
Exhaling lowly, he flashed you a faint smile, “of course.”
Glancing down at his fingers, sweeping across your own, you said, “hey, Matt? Could you maybe–, uh… could you give me a hug?”
Not hesitating, his strong arms engulfed your quivering frame and a fresh wave of sobs swiftly bubbled out of you as he held you tight, though your cries didn’t push him away, he stayed steadfast, embracing you close till the eruption ultimately simmered down, leaving you nearly asleep against his tear-stained shoulder. 
As he gently lowered you down to lay on the couch, you tightened your grip on his shirt as he began to pull back, ushering him to sink down as well, allowing you to curl into his safe embrace and let slumber drift you away. 
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When you finally stirred, the sun was nowhere to be seen. 
“Hey,” you blinked up at Matt still in the exact same spot as before. 
“Hey,” you replied groggily, “what time is it?” swiftly fishing your phone out of your pant pocket before Matt could conjure an answer, “oh, fuck… it’s nearly midnight… did you sleep as well?”
“Not really,” he shrugged, “maybe for a little bit, but no.”
“Oh…” you breathed, averting your gaze. 
“How are you feeling?” his thumb swiped your waist where his broad palm was planted. 
“…I don’t know…” you exhaled, “…exhausted… sad… angry… really fucking angry… so angry that it kinda scares me…” 
After a beat of silence, with only your woeful breaths filling the space, Matt then uttered, “I think I know something that might help a bit.”
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Your gaze drifted from the faded paint on the walls to the worn punching bags as you and Matt sat on the edge of the central ring and his fingers worked at wrapping up your hands. 
“Do you come here a lot?” you asked, your vision gliding back to him. 
“From time to time,” he tilted his head slightly, “reminds me of my dad,” tucking the last end of the strip under the weave, securing it into place, he closed your hand into a fist and exhaled, “alright, you’re ready,” he adjusted your grip, briefly offering your wrist a squeeze as he said, “just remember to keep your wrist strong and your thumb right here,” he slid your finger down below your knuckles. 
You hadn’t gone into it with much hope, in fact, it was only out of your desperation just feel better that you even humoured the experiment. In the beginning, it did feel as silly as you’d imagined, nearly stopped completely, but at some point in the mess of it all, your punches grew more ferocious, they grew more brutal, and suddenly something inside of you snapped and unravelled. It wasn’t some magic pill, but the physical act did loosen something within you and gave away to a fresh release of sobs, though not the painful and unbearable kind you’d had to endure earlier. It was the kind that felt like relief. Even if it wasn’t permanent, in that very moment, you didn’t feel like you were drowning anymore. 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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radioisntdead · 4 months
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This is my first time requesting anything from you so I hope this idea is okay but would you be willing to write something where the reader is Alastor's child (I live for Dad Alastor) and they meet Susan? Maybe they get really attached to her so every time they visit Cannibal Town Alastor has to reluctantly take his kid to see 'Grandma Susan' and be civil around her?
Only if you're up for it though! I love your blog so MUCH and I live for both the platonic Alastor and Susan content you do
-TheAmberFist ♡
Good evening my dear! I did headcanons I hope that's alright, I adore your blog's content as well! I reread your "leave it all on the dance floor" series often! I positively adore how you write Alastor's and the readers friendship! Also thank you so much for requesting this because that gives me an excuse to bring back this header!
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Papa Alastor doesn't like Grandma Susan.
Alastor & child reader, Susan & adopted against Alastor's will grandchild reader.
Warnings: Cannibalism also reader is a fawn because deers.
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HEADCANON TIMEEEEE
Much like my other Papa Alastor fics, he either picked you up off the streets, or you just straight up followed him home like a stray puppy.
He unwillingly became a father.
I imagine he was talking with your Auntie Rosie and You wandered off to explore Cannibal town!
Despite being in hell, it seems safe enough for children considering there were other children around.
Anywho you stumbled upon a cranky Susan and just immediately started going
"I like your dead rodent scarf!"
"It's a fox, what are you blind?"
Long story short she unwillingly became a grandmother that day because you would NOT LEAVE HER ALONE not that she minded
Alastor has to deal with you whining that you want to see Grandma Susan, dude does NOT want to call her your grandmother, in his eyes you only have one grandmother above that you will unfortunately never meet.
"I wanna see Grandma Susan!"
"She's not your grandmother, why in the devil's name would you want to see her?"
"Because she's my grandma,"
"No she's not."
"yes she is!"
"No."
"Yes!"
Que a repeat of no's and yes until he eventually relents because you are NOT TAKING NO FOR AN ANSWER.
I imagine Susan enjoys your company but also uses you to peeve off the embodiment of red-40 that is your parent.
Like Alastor leaves you with her for whatever reason and is just like
"Don't give them any candy, no more then two juice boxes anymore and they get rowdy."
Guess who got a little goodie bag of candies and had a whole box of CapriSuns?
Also I imagine you as a fawn, specifically one of these [no this totally isn't an excuse to show the deer pictures I have saved noooooo]
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Susan puts either a bow or bow tie on you, I imagine she breaks into the hotel sometimes when Alastor is out and is just like "I'm taking my grandchild out, fuck off!"
Vaggie tried to stop her once and nearly lost an arm, so far the only ones that are successful in getting Susan to not kidnap you is Angel dust [aka your favorite babysitter] ,Rosie, Alastor himself, for everyone else they have to risk losing limbs, Charlie could probably coax you away from Susan.
They banned her from the hotel, set up security measures.
She keeps getting in they don't know how, they're terrified.
Nothing stops Susan.
Alastor keeps cordial with Susan because he can't do anything to Susan because of Rosie and also because much to his displeasure you are attached to the ornery old bitch.
Alastor wants to take you on a father-child day? Torturing sinners, getting cannibal ice cream, getting souls,
He can't BECAUSE Susan snuck into the hotel and snatched you up!
On the flip side, Susan wants to take you shopping because the modern [1920's-1930's] clothing Alastor dresses you in is horrendous, Her words not mine
But no Alastor literally just picked you up and teleported away, how rude! How dare he keep her from her grandchild?? Ungrateful brat who raised him? [She's lucky Alastor did NOT HEAR THAT, just because he's dead and his ma is in heaven does NOT MEAN HE'S NOT STILL A MAMA'S BOY the good version ]
I imagine as a consequence Susan starts acting like Alastor's parent, like threatening to ground him, telling him to go in the corner and think about what he's done, chastising him for his awful haircut, then grabbing a bowl and scissors.
Alastor hid behind Rosie while Susan and you looked for him because she was definitely planning on giving him a bowl cut.
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Good evening folks! Oh how I've missed writing for Susan! I missed our grumpy grandma, I hope you enjoyed this! As per usual thank you for tuning in I hope to see you again soon!
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fortunapre · 19 days
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𝐀/𝐍𖧞 oh my gosh??!? an update that’s semi on time?!? anyways enjoy tbis because it sure gets interesting… and someone pls give me another word for “skimpy” that’s not derogatory 🤓
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𖧞 16+ (series rating and swearing), sister mention, alcohol, wlw mention, use on y/n
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𖧞 oscar piastri x fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𖧞 (scene vi) 3.2k
Go back?? (scene v) Click Here!
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𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬 𖧞 scene vi 𖧞 (𝐒𝐞𝐭 𝐈𝐭 𝐔𝐩)
try telling me someone didn’t read winter affairs and immediately type this up 👇🔽
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Monday, December 17th
You know what they say: “Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t accept rides from strangers. Never tell a man that you’re interested in Formula One.”
Because if you do, you could end up in a most unwanted dilemma like death or, you know, being asked “Oh yeah? Name the 2009 WDC?”
Both are equally horrible.
However, less than four hours ago, my sister and I did exactly what we were told not to do.
Not tell a man about F1, God that’d be horrible, of course not!
No, we met some strangers downtown while shopping this afternoon, and let them drive us to a party.
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Four Hours Earlier…
My sister and I decided to go back downtown in search of fresh baked wintertime desserts to take back to the family for lunch. We walked into a cozy bakery where pottery and art lined the walls.
“This place looks promising.” I wished, walking towards the front of the store in search of the baked goods. In clear cases were delicious looking cakes, tarts, and pastries- Jackpot.
I pointed at the largest desert there, a tall cherry tart.
My sister nodded her head and also pointed to another sweet that had caught her eye. We silently agreed on the items and looked away from the case, trying to find someone to help us. The store had only a few customers, and one lady standing in line at a cash register, but no cashier.
“How long have you been standing here? Is there someone working?” I asked the lady, whose hands were filled with a dark blue vase that looked hand crafted, probably from one of the shelves in here.
“Not long, actually.” She replied, looking towards a door to our left. “The young man who was helping me earlier will be right back, he’s just grabbing something for me, sorry.” She looked around my mothers age but with lighter features. While talking to us she attempted to point towards the door, but her grip on the vase only let one finger slightly move. She tried to free her hand to show us exactly, but the vase began slipping. I moved my hands quickly, positioning them under, so that if it were to fall I could catch it.
“Woah careful, Mrs. Petersen.” A voice said from our left. Out from the door emerged a young man, around our age, with an apron and beaming smile. “Don’t let that slip, you're making the poor girl stressed.”
He was acknowledging that I still had my hands in the same position, worried the fragile pottery might slip again. I noticed the woman, I now knew as Mrs. Petersen, had a better grip, so I retracted my hands quickly and shoved them into my pockets.
The young man, who I assumed worked here, had a small box in his hand and walked towards the cash register.
He spoke to Mrs. Petersen with a kind smile before helping wrap her vase and sending her out the door. After he finished helping her, he turned to us with an expectant look.
“You two lookin’ at something specific?” He asked motioning towards the case of goodies my sister and I were marveling at, moments before.
“Yes actually. Could we get the whole cherry tart and a pack of those apple crumb bars, please?” I answered, pointing as I talked.
He just nodded and carefully picked both desserts for us, boxing them, bagging them, and ringing us up.
As I was paying, I noticed him looking at us with interest. I tried not to make eye contact with him, suddenly not wanting his attention.
My sister, however, met his gaze more than once, no doubt checking him out.
“Hey, so wait…” He spoke as we started walking away.
We both turned, waiting for him to speak.
“You two… wouldn’t be interested in a party tonight, would you?” He finally said.
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Of course not, why would we want to go to a random part-
“Oooh, sounds fun! We’ll totally be there!” My sister answered for the both of us. I tried to pinch her elbow to get her to look at me, but she kept her eyes on the guy.
“Oh, no way, alright. Well let me pull up the information..” he trailed off while digging in his pocket for his phone. “Hold on, I left my phone in the back but I’ll get it for you. Just a sec.” He disappeared behind the door, like earlier. As soon as he was out of sight, I turned towards my sister.
“What?! There’s no way I am going to a strangers party.” I whispered through my teeth, looking around at the other customers, hoping not to cause a scene.
“Y/n, yes you are. We need to do something fun outside of the cabin. We can only add so many new rules to Uno before it gets boring.”
“What? I thought you liked Go-Fish-Charades-No-Takesy-Backsey-Uno?”
“I did! But now it’s lame and a party is just what we neeedddd.” She pouted her lips and looked like she desperately wanted this. I immediately caved and shrugged my shoulders looking away. “Look, how about this?” My sister began, trying to make me feel better. “We’ll bring our brother and Oscar.”
She let a smirk show at her idea.
“I already agreed. Oscar doesn’t have to come.” I fought.
“Ok, even if you agreed, I think Oscar should still come. He’s fun at parties.” She tried. “Come onnnnnnn. Just let loose for one night”
I looked at her, saw the look in her eyes, and walked away before I kept agreeing to whatever she said. Sometimes it’s hard to disagree when she looks so deeply, like she really cares about you. So before I agreed to wearing frisky outfits and dancing on a table, I got away.
From behind me, I heard the young man approach my sister and give her the details for tonight.
Maybe a night out could be good, we’ll see.
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Now…
My eyes are drooping, closing for seconds of relief, and then opening again. Everytime I blink, the comfortable silence fills my brain and I could almost drift to sleep standing right here. I can feel my mouth getting dry and my eyes burning with the need to shut. However tempting sleep may be, I need to stay awake.
I’m basically swaying in my spot, desperate to topple over and cuddle on the floor. The hold I have on the drink in my hand Is all that my brain is working on. My mind is fuzzy with however many cups of this ‘magic jingle juice,’ as the party host called it. Anyone in this room could look at me and think “Man, she’s wasted.” But, really, I’m staying quiet and having trouble standing upright because of how exhausted I am. Sure, I drank someeeee but I can easily say the worst I am, is a little tipsy. I shut my eyes tight, to stop the burning. Once I tried opening my eyes again, a squint was all I could hold.
What time is it? Is she ready to go home yet? I started thinking about how we even got her in the first place: some strangers' Christmas party.
People around me were laughing and swaying. Some were in costumes, but most of the people looked like they only came for the alcohol, dressed in casual clothing. At one point, I think I saw some women in matching skimpy reindeer costumes. Hope they’re having fun. I hope my siblings are having fun too.
If they’re not, and this was just a waste of time, I might strangle them.
After a nap. I don’t think I could lift my arms if I tried.
Home, Nap, Strangle. Ok, good plan.
Suddenly, sleepiness drained from my face as I caught sight of something interesting happening near a couch in the center of the room.
As I walked over, my interest piqued. I recognized my brother and sister, sitting on the floor, and a face I haven’t seen since the beginning of the party- Oscar.
He was sitting two people away from my sister in what looked like a circle. Everyone was talking and sipping on their drinks. However, what caught my eye in the first place was a girl standing in the middle of the people-circle. She was wearing a bright red dress that fit her nicely, and a santa hat on top of her curled hair. In her hands was another Santa hat. She held it upside down and open, walking around the circle. I was confused, because instead of collecting pieces of paper, or trash, people were dropping personal items in the hat. I watched as my sister put in her bracelet.
I made eye contact with her as the Santa girl walked away. Her eyes widened and she smiled a goofy grin. She looked sober at least.
I tilted my head, making a show that I was confused at what was going on. She just smiled and watched the Santa girl turn towards my brother.
He took a look around the circle of people and then back to the girl. He then took off a ring and dropped it into the hat.
I was even more confused, why are they giving her their jewelry?
I walked over after throwing away my drink. I crouched down next to my sister on the ground and got close to talk to her.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
She let out a quiet giggle while whispering close to my ear. “Oh! Good timing, we haven’t started yet, you can still join.”
Before I could ask for more information, my sister grabbed my wrist and slipped off a beaded bracelet I was wearing. She motioned the Santa girl over and put my bracelet in the hat. The santa girl gave a look to my sister then to me, nodding like she approved.
“Hey! I liked that bracelet, why would you just-” I got a little annoyed. Instead of taking me seriously, my sister tugged on my arm again, making me plop onto the floor in between her and my brother.
“Relax, you’ll get it back at the end, or if you get chosen.” She tried to assure me, but my mind was just whirling with questions.
“If im CHOSen? What is this, a cult initiation?”
“Oh my god, Y/n, no it's just a party game. Apparently it’s a local game they play here every year.” She didn’t elaborate until I quirked a brow and shook my head.
“Which is…..?” I asked.
“Oh, I have no idea. I just wanted to do something and this seemed like fun. Plus I got Oscar and our brother to join so it should be fine.”
I was bewildered at this information. I looked away from my sister to the other side of me. My brother looked relaxed and met my gaze. He just shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his drink, seemingly unbothered. I scoffed and looked around the room. looking for a clue to what I was getting myself into.
My gaze latched on to the Santa girl, holding her hat in front of Oscar. He looked at her, confused. Then I’m guessing she started to explain to him what was going on. From where I was, I couldn't hear anything but saw her lips moving quickly and her point around the circle of people. Once she finished talking, Oscar’s face turned to one of shock, his brows shooting up. He stayed frozen before he nodded and looked down to his cup.
In less than a second he downed the rest of its contents.
When the Santa girl shook the hat in front of him, it made a sound of metals clinging together, no doubt filled with random belongings. I'm guessing she was asking for him to give up an offering or sacrifice a personal item, for whatever reason it was necessary to this ‘game.’ Oscar nodded to the girl and started taking off his watch. He undid the metal band quickly and dropped it into the hat.
As soon as the girl walked away, Oscar’s eyes darted to me. I was already watching the encounter so we made eye contact. Instead of looking away, he kept looking. I don’t know what he was looking for but his gaze made me start to feel achingly sober.
I was one of the many people dressed in casual clothes, not bothering to go all out for a stranger’s party. As I looked away from Oscar's piercing gaze; my eyes traveled away and down his attire. He was wearing a white tee-shirt (one that actually fits him). A tee shirt shouldn’t be anything special, but something’s wrong with my mind tonight. Maybe it’s the alcohol.
I traced down his body to the nice-fitting dark jeans he was wearing. Then back up to the shirt. He was looking away from me now, talking to my brother. As he used his hands while he talked, I watched his form- more specifically his arms. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. When did he get so…
Yep. Definitely the alcohol.
Santa-girl stepped back into the circle, breaking my thoughts and bringing everyone’s attention to her.
“Alright!” She had an annoyingly cheery voice. “Let’s get started. To those who don’t know, we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven.”
Oh my god.
My sister didn’t know what 7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN was?
I looked around trying to find away out of the game, but people had already gathered around and It’d be embarrassing to leave.
“What kind of party is this?” I asked my sister. “A middle schooler’s dream experience surely.”
“I agree… But it’s either this or a monopoly with the skimpy reindeer over there.” She used a thumb to point to behind her where some skimpy reindeer were in fact, playing monopoly.
I rubbed a hand down my face and huffed.
Who doesn’t know what 7 minutes in heaven is!?
Santa-girl was, I'm guessing, the host of this childish game, walking around the circle. She stopped in front of my sister, to my surprise and held the hat in front of her.
“Oh and I hear you three are siblings, so either throw their item back in the hat or give it to somebody else.” She added on with a smile and held open the hat to my sister.
Slowly, with anxious eyes, she stuck her hand in her hand and dug around. She carefully took out her hand, a sparkly pink lipgloss in her grip. She turned towards me quickly, and smirked, obviously interested. She held up the item proudly and waited for someone to claim it.
In seconds, my sister sat up and walked with someone to a room with a candy cane taped to the door. Everybody clapped as they left.
“There’s the first couple!” The santa girl clapped her hands together, then went on her phone, supposedly waiting for their time to be up. I talked to my brother for 7 minutes, trying to guess how my sister will be once she walks out.
To neither of our surprise, she walked out a mess, matching the lucky lady next to her. She didn’t bother fixing her makeup or hair, wearing a big grin. I laughed at her appearance as she quickly sat back down next to me.
A couple more rounds passed, and I was yet to have been picked. My brother went in with a girl earlier and came back with what I swear was the dictionary definition of “awestruck.”
Oscar’s also been chosen. The girl that grabbed his watch looked way too eager to get him alone. The whole time they were gone my mind was reeling. When they came out the girl had the same expression but neither of them looked messed up like my sister had.
I felt something deep inside me that sort of felt like relief.
Santa-girl walked around the circle. Other than me there were a few others, so I was praying she chose one of them, and not me. She was about to walk to a guy next to me, but all of a sudden, my sister grabbed her arm and lightly steered her back, In my direction.
“Here you are…” My sister whispered to me.
I cleared my throat and tried to laugh to ease the stress building in my throat.
Now that she stood in front of me with an eager look that matched the rest of the room’s stares, I panicked. I sat still until my sister spoke up.
“Y/n, you don’t have to, i just thought you wa-” My sister tried.
“I DO!” I shot back, a little too quickly. “I mean,” I cleared my throat and spoke quieter. “I’ll do it, I'm fine.”
But even after announcing i’d do it, my hands didnt move towards the hat.
My sister looked at me, like she was making a decision, and then asked me quietly, so only I could hear her.
“How ‘bout this? I’ll pick for you.”
“Yeah, umm. Sure yeah you pick for me.” The santa girl heard my reply and nodded in approval, she turned the hat towards my left and my sister immediately dove in.
She dug in the hat for a bit. It must have been 30 seconds before she stopped digging. Her hand was still in the hat, and she turned to me with the biggest smile I’d seen tonight.
To my horror, she pulled out a familiar looking item, shining in the firelight.
“Ah.” She held it up to the circle with confidence and then turned to drop in in my hand. I looked down at the silver watchface, taunting me.
She’d picked Oscar’s watch for me, and I know she’d been purposely looking for it too.
I looked at her again, then when she didn't say anything but smile, I closed my eyes tight again. I took a deep breath out of annoyance and stood up. Everyone’s eyes watched my stand and held out the watch.
I didn’t need to wait for anyone to claim it. Instead I looked straight at Oscar. He was already looking at me, his eyes were dark and trained on my own.
From the side of me, I heard someone ask my brother “no way, do they have, like, tension or something?” the person wasn’t’t being as quiet as they thought they were.
My brother replied “apparently…”
My sister joined in the conversation. “Tension? These two have had tension since elementary school.”
“Ooh childhood romance.” the stranger acknowledged.
“More like childhood rivals.” My brother whispered. I didn’t turn to them to show I heard their entire conversation, and instead kept looking at Oscar.
He moved his legs to stand and wiped down his pants, smoothing the ripples from sitting.
Instead of looking back at me, he beelined for the candy cane room, not bothering to turn and see if I was following…
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NEXT PART HERE!!!!!!!!!! ASHDJFJSNJDKDNDJDNDNDJDNDJF WOOOOOOOOOOOOO CLICK HEREEE!
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Text
Goodie bag series - Kim Seokjin
Summary: The kindness of a stranger saves you from your own stubbornness.
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Word count: 1.5 k words
Warnings: None
Tagged: @themochiverse @parkdatjimin
Read the other members here
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I’m sorry but I don’t have anyone to cover for you. You’re gonna have to come in.” Leah said, clearly unbothered at the fact that she was denying you a well deserved long weekend, because you hadn’t taken a single day off for the past two months.
She had the audacity to stand there, wiping at the already clean counter, and shrug like it wasn’t her business when clearly she had forgotten that not a whole week ago, she had called you on the verge of tears because her cramps had been really bad and asked you to cover her shift. You had happily helped her out. But fuck women helping women I guess.
“Leah, I mentioned it to you three days ago and I think that was enough time to ask someone to come in for an extra shift or something…” you began.
“Y/n, I don’t know what to tell you. People aren’t usually enthusiastic about working overtime at a stupid café.”
“Yet I have no problems picking up shifts for any of you!” you raised your voice and glared accusingly at your coworkers towards the last part, only to be met by guilty side glances.
You huffed. This was unbelievable. You knew if you stood there any longer you’d either set the place on fire or you’d start crying. Neither of those options seemed feasible so you decided to turn on your heel and stormed out.
It was two blocks later when the biting wind had numbed every exposed part of your body that you realized you had forgotten your coat at the godforsaken place. Your steps faltered for a moment. The walk home after you got off the bus would be a considerable one, and if the wind stayed the same, you’d definitely catch a cold. With a surge of rage you realized none of your no good coworkers would believe you if you called in sick tomorrow after what had just happened, and it’d be wise to turn back and retrieve the coat.
That being said, you had never been wise.
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The bus stop finally came into view. You breathed a sigh of relief. Your muscles actually ached from all the shivering.
Your mother always kept saying your stubbornness would be the end of you one day, and as you hugged your shivering self, you were convinced it might just end up being true.
Well, atleast the bus would be warm.
.
The bus was late.
The stupid bus that was always on time.
“Miss, I don’t want to come off as rude but please wear this.”
“Huh?” you looked up at the man towering over you as you sat on the bench.
In your own misery, you had forgotten that there were other people in the vicinity, all waiting for the delayed bus. All of who could hear your teeth chattering unbecomingly. From behind the guy, you could see a couple of middle aged women throwing you dirty looks of disapproval.
You looked down at the soft pink hoodie that the patient man was still holding out, and then up at him.
His mop of soft brown, bouncy hair stopped just above his eyes, a few strands falling over their brown warmth, high cheekbones, a sharp nose and the plumpest pair of lips you had ever seen on anyone. In the back of your mind you wondered if he had work done on them.
And then you noticed what he was wearing. He wore sweatpants that matched the hoodie he was (still) holding out to you. Underneath his impressive long windbreaker, you saw he was wearing what seemed like an insulated under shirt.
You realized this very well could be something he had been wearing not five minutes ago.
This kind stranger had just taken off a layer of his own clothes in the late November cold of Seoul to give you some semblance of warmth.
“Oh my… thank you.” You were unsure of what to do, but your mind was slower than your body in this aspect because you had already vocalized your gratitude and grasped onto the warm garment before you could decide if it was a good idea or no.
The corners of his mouth lifted endearingly as he regarded your thankful expression.
“Well, go on. Put it on unless you want to freeze to death since you’re halfway there already.”
Oh. Well, he wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t you were expecting from him half a minute ago. You burst out laughing.
Amidst laughter, you straightened out the hoodie and slipped it over your head. God, it smelled so nice. Admittedly, the strong perfume smelt quite expensive, and you wondered just who was this kind stranger.
But as soon as it settled over your shoulders and engulfed your hands (the sleeves were too long), you forgot about who he could be and instead only ended up thinking about how the fluffy garment felt like a warm hug. You almost melted into it, the warmth it surrounded you with moving you almost to tears after the unforgiving cold of the city and the cold anger in your veins had all but frozen your heart.
“Thank you so much.” You repeated.
“You’re welcome. I’m Jin.” He introduced himself.
“Hi Jin, I’m y/n.” you held out your hand for him to shake. “Are you waiting for the bus too?”
“Oh no, I was just walking by and thought a crowded bus stop would be a perfect place to make friends.” He said deadpan, and blinked.
You blinked back. It was a joke right?
Right?
You giggled nervously and Jin straight up burst out laughing. “I’m just messing with you.”
Oh thank God!
Just as you shook your head in relieved disbelief, the bus pulled up to the stop and everyone around you heaved a sigh of relief. Jin turned back to the opening door and looked towards you. You nodded and both of you got on.
Amidst the driver’s apologies for the delay, you found an empty seat next to the window and settled in for the long ride home. You did end up smiling though because Jin came and sat right next to you. And by the looks of it, he wanted to talk more.
Well, it seemed like you weren’t listening to music today.
“So why were you out without anything warm y/n?”
“I had my coat, I just forgot it at work.”
“Oh was it too far to walk back?”
“Not really”, you admitted sheepishly.
Jin frowned slightly and leaned back in his seat. “Well, that’s just stupid then. You must’ve been cold the moment you stepped out.”
It felt like you were being scolded. And you wouldn’t stand for it.
“Hey, I had a lot on my mind!” you said defensively.
Jin held up his hands in a shrug and zipped his lips. Well, it appeared you were going to listen to music after all.
That being said, you couldn’t help but sneak tiny glances at the absolute perfection of a man who was casually leaning back in the seat next to you. You wondered who he was, what he did, how many friends he had. If they laughed just as loud as him at his strange sarcasm and if he had a habit of scolding people about getting cold. You wondered many things, like what perfume he wore that was clouding your brain. Where he had gotten such a nice colored matching set in the first place. And how on earth were his shoulders so wide.
You wondered if you’d meet him again.
And also, if he knew you were staring.
But if he did, he didn’t let it show.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the bus stopped three stops before yours, Jin finally got up and held onto the bar to give you a farewell wave.
“Oh wait, you should take this back.” You made to slip off his hoodie.
“You really think I gave it to you to wear on the bus, that’s already heated?” he frowned in disbelief again.
You were speechless.
“Keep it. You can give it to me when you see me again.” He clarified.
“When will that be?” you hid your smile. Something in you really wanted to see the guy again. Soon.
Jin started moving to the door. Just before getting off, he turned to you, “Same time and place. Tomorrow?”
You hugged the ridiculously soft hoodie to you. Well, it was a good thing you were going to work tomorrow then wasn’t it?
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mistydeyes · 1 year
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there is no cure for jealousy
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summary: While there are definite perks to being a military pharmacist (a steady job, respectful patients, and a comfortable income), there are some downsides. At first, you don't mind the newest addition to your routine, a recruit who visits and makes light conversation, but the 141 recognizes he might not be just an innocent patient.
pairing: Task Force 141 x pharmacist!Reader
some other parts of the pharmacist!series:
counseling the 141 - first part to the pharmacist! story
weird dreams when they are injured on the field
being sick and having the 141 come to the rescue
warnings: medical/pharmacy terminology, medical inaccuracies, swearing, depiction of wounds and violence
a/n: okay first! i ran out of gifs fo use so i’m trying this new header idea :) also the pharmacist is back! I was so surprised that next to the stripper!reader, this one was almost as popular :) thank you for all the love you bring to this series
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Week 13, the last to final week for the newest Army recruits. It was better known as Attack Week. Everyone was familiar with the time as it was an entire week the recruits would put their newly learned skills to the test and experience the adrenaline of the battlefield. This was your 5th one as a pharmacist so you knew the drill. You hummed as you checked over your items. It was all hands on deck as the number of injuries was high and you were preparing for the newest scripts and deliveries to the infirmary. "Here they come," your technician called out as you heard the printer whir with the amounts of newly verified scripts. "Just on time," you said as you looked down at your watch. "You fill and I'll verify," you commented to him as you settled down at the computer, "hopefully there isn't too many DUR's and I can help with the queue." Through the corner of your eye, you could see the tech say a silent prayer before he went to retrieve the medications from the aisle.
Thankfully, there hadn't been too many scripts requiring extra clarification or absolute contraindications. You took the bin of recently filled prescriptions and walked over to the window filled with waiting young faces. "Good morning," you smiled at the teenager who couldn't be more than 18 standing in front of you. "Morning, Captain," she replied formally, "Alexandra Davidson." "Alright, Alexandra give me a moment and I'll give you your goodie bag," you joked and you could see her serious expression crack with a smile. That was how the majority of the morning went, fresh new faces and minimum conversation as they all feared their superiors. You knew the experienced soldier avoided the pharmacy unless absolutely necessary. Around 12, you saw some familiar faces and gave a small wave to the 141 as they passed to the mess hall. "Doin' great, Cap," Soap called and you forced a smile on your tired face. Around 1:30 you closed for a break and quickly scarfed down a sandwich and cup of soup before the clock struck 2.
When you walked back to the window, the line had gone down significantly and more familiar faces began to appear in the queue. "Hello there," a young man said and you recognized he was one of the newest recruits. His eyes scanned your figure as he looked down at you but you just brushed it off. "Good afternoon," you replied, "name?" He smiled and leaned on the counter before replying, "Jason Powell." "Alright, Jason," you smiled as you pulled up his file. You looked to the right and saw the bin his bag right on top. "I have yours right here," you said and handed it to him. "Must be my lucky day," he smirked as you gave him the bag. As he looked at it, he had a curious expression on his face. "Is something wrong?" you asked as he opened it to hold the small blister pack. "This is embarrassing, Captain, but I've never had to go to the chemist's before," he said sheepishly and you listened intently, "how-how do I take these?"
You were no stranger to patient counseling and in fact, loved giving your mini-lecture whenever someone needed it. "Oh don't worry!" you replied as you looked up at him, "this is paracetamol probably because of an injury on the field?" He nodded in response and you continued. "It'll help with any aches or pains you have. What you want to do is take one of the capsules and drink it with water," you explained, "You can take it every 4 to 6 hours but remember to take no more than 8 in a 24hr period." With that, you smiled and he thanked you before leaving. After a few more patients, Gaz finally came to the front to pick up some paracetamol and antihistamines. "The young recruit had a lot of questions," he remarked as you went to retrieve his prescription. "Never took a pill before so I was happy to explain," you said and handed him his bag of pills. "Watch out for them, this new batch is something else," he commented and left the pharmacy with that ominous statement.
He might have been correct as the same recruit kept appearing at your pharmacy for the next week. First, it was for a dose change because his pain was still severe from his sprained wrist. "Still the same way to take these," you joked as you handed the bag to him and he held your hand gently. "Thank you as always, Captain," he replied and you ignored the confused look from Soap who was right behind him. "Just a nice kid," you sighed before you entered your own long conversation with the Scotsman.
The next day, you sighed as Jason appeared at your window. "Another dose change?" you asked as you hated seeing repeat customers, especially for something that wasn't a prophylaxis treatment. He shook his head before replying. "Heard this was the place to let you know I think I have a penicillin allergy," he responded and you sighed. Price was only behind him in the queue and nodded as you apologized that adding an allergy would take a moment. As you typed it into his file and marked it so the appropriate individuals would note it, you couldn't help but wonder why he was here. "The medical wing does know they can add this in themselves? Hate to have you come all this way," you muttered and you failed to catch his small smirk. "I don't mind at all, just means I get to see you!" he replied happily and you returned his cheery demeanor. "Well you'll all set now, shouldn't need you to come down unless you need a refill," you replied and he waved before exiting.
"I thought it was a rumor, but I believe my sergeants when they say that little one fancies you," Price joked and you rolled your eyes before finding his bag. As you checked to verify the correct amount of bottles, you couldn't believe he was feeding into this. "He just has lots of questions and wants to get the best care the military can offer," you corrected but Price raised an eyebrow. "Captain, there's a fine line between stupidity and acting like an idiot to flirt," he clarified, "you should've seen what recruits do when they see Lt. Riley walking their way." You both shared a laugh as there were plenty of stories of those who fancied the tall, mysterious man. "They may like Lt. Riley but that changes on a dime when Ghost appears," you added and Price nodded in response. "Took the words right out of my mouth, Captain."
The final straw was when he returned for a fourth time. "Hello again, Jason," you said with a tired smile, "what can I do for you?" "Just wanted to say hi to my favorite pharmacist," he mused and you tried to hide your slight annoyance. "Well, here's your hello," you responded and his optimism faltered, "sorry, just been a long day." "Can I do anything to make it better?" he flirted and smoothed out his non-existent short hair. "You can by leaving them alone," Ghost suddenly spoke and you realized he was next in the small queue. "And why would I do that?" he challenged as he turned to Ghost. Ghost was in his uniform exercise gear and there was no display of his rank. You couldn't help but smirk when Ghost walked forward and stood a full head above him.
"What are you a recruit?" Ghost commanded and he nodded with fervor. "Then, I expect you to get out of here," he continued but the receipt stayed in place. "You're not my commanding officer so I don't see why I need to listen to you," he replied and you could practically see the veins appear on his forehead. Before he could say anything further, the rest of the 141 entered with Price in uniform and Gaz and Soap in their gym attire. "Something a matter here, gentleman?" Price asked as he walked up to you. Before you could respond, Ghost spoke up. "This recruit here thinks its funny to bother our pharmacist," he muttered and the recite stood taller and straighter seeing the Captain rank on Price's uniform. "Well then," Price began, "I don't think it's appropriate for you to be here any longer, Jason." He was just about to reply when Price cut him off. "And you should show some respect, your pharmacist is not someone to be flirted with and is an out-ranking Captain to you," he said, motioning to you, "and this here is Lieutenant Riley." Jason looked like he was about to cry when he said that. "So if you don't want your life to be a living hell, you should leave," Soap interjected and the recruit ran out of the pharmacy.
When he was gone, you all shared a long laugh. "I thought you were about to pummel him with your paracetamol,"' you said through giggles as you began to relax. "Is this a good time to say I told you so?" Gaz questioned with a smirk and you rolled your eyes. "Thanks for saving the day as always," you breathed out. You noticed the time and saw it was right when you closed the pharmacy for lunch. "I'm actually off to lunch if you would like to join," you offered, "could use the company!" They all nodded and you went about closing the pharmacy down. As you grabbed your lunch bag and pulled down the gate, you smiled seeing them waiting for you. You walked in stride with them to the mess hall before someone spoke up. "You should wear a wedding ring, it'll save you the trouble next time," Soap piped up and you shot him a look. "No, I think that'll invite more questions unless one of you lot can reasonably act like my spouse," you said as you laughed slightly. Before anyone else could respond, you added to your initial statement. "On second thought, I don't think I could marry any one of you," you mused, much to their disappointment, "heard that KorTac guy has a pretty successful sibling that's a doctor."
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missmonsters2 · 2 years
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—KAIROSCLEROSIS | TEN (FINAL)
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Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader
Summary: Everything comes to settle in the aftermath. You're healing and Wednesday takes the time to consider what she's experiencing until she picks it apart in a way she can tolerate it. You are hers, though. That is for certain.
Warnings: softsoftsoftsoft. so soft. Wednesday is soft. cuddling. happy ending. healing. bantering. did i say soft? crying it's so soft. satisfying aftermath. the nickname bet comes to an end. soft in case you were unaware.
Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3
Reminder there's no taglist, but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
Note: book 1 has come to an end! Thank you so much to everyone who has supported this series <3 Sequel is on it's way along with some oneshots! series masterlist has been re-edited with info.
Part Nine
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Kairosclerosis: Noun. The moment you realize that you're currently happy—consciously trying to savor the feeling—which prompts your intellect to identify it, pick it apart, and put it in context, where it will slowly dissolve until it's little more than an aftertaste.
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Wednesday sits beside your hospital bed, quietly reading Goody's spellbook. The only noise is the sound of your quiet breathing and the steady beeping from the machine that monitors your heart rate. 
The spellbook is coming in handy already. Wednesday has just discovered a better remedial salve—one that should actually speed up the healing process. Once Enid arrives, Wednesday would be free to go and gather the ingredients she needed. She would need some honey from Eugene's bees, and she recalled a plant in the greenhouse with the pulp she needed.
A particularly deep breath draws Wednesday's attention from her book. Her head tilts slightly over as she peers at you. Your eyes are closed, unaware of anything as you slept on. You had to be put on your stomach so that your wings could rest without anything touching them. 
The reopened wounds had to be stitched back together and then bandaged, which the doctor noted would have to be for two weeks and frequently changed. Wednesday was merely waiting for you to be discharged, and she could take your healing into her own hands. The nurse earlier had received a scathing glare when she was not delicate in changing your bandages yesterday, causing your brows to furrow as you slept on. 
Morons, Wednesday vehemently decided then. They couldn't be trusted with you. 
"You should wake up soon," Wednesday says, even though you never reply. She doesn't even know if you're listening. "It's much too sunny without you."
"Wednesday," Enid sighs as she walks into the room, a new bouquet of flowers in her hands. "Why are you up again? You're supposed to be resting too. You got stabbed in the arm!"
"This is hardly anything," Wednesday raises her brow as she closes the spellbook and puts it back into her bag. "It honestly hurts more when I punch Pugsley."
“You mean when Pugsley punches you?”
“No.”
"Still," Enid frowns, looking over her roommate. Despite only having been two days since the ordeal, Wednesday threatened the hospital staff to discharge her mere hours after she got cleaned and fixed up. 
You could barely tell that Wednesday was injured by the way she continued wearing long sleeves, tidy braids, and lack of reaction. The only visible sign was the bandage she had to wear over her temple. 
"Fae will be upset if you refuse to rest and heal when she wakes up." Enid looks over to you, biting her bottom lip. A part of her wants to cry at how banged up you looked. She knew—could smell how much blood there was that night. But now you really looked broken with the machines hooked up to you and the red-stained bandages wrapped over your wings. 
It was worse than when Eugene was in the hospital last year. 
Wednesday looks at you once more as she prepares to leave. Your back rises and falls with each steady breath. "Then I suppose she'll have to wake up if she wants me to even consider listening to her grievances against me."
Walking out the door, Wednesday doesn't spare you another glance as she walks down the corridors. The nurses give her a wide berth, the lights flickering as she walks. 
A room comes up as she makes her way to the stairwell. There are two police guards posted outside. As she passes, she looks into the window and sees a lanky boy with messy hair and gauze bandages wrapped around his eyes and head. He's completely unaware. 
Wednesday smiles sinisterly. 
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"Miss Addams," Weems greets as she puts down her fancy fountain pen, gesturing for Wednesday to come closer.
Wednesday wordlessly takes a seat, her face impassive. 
They stare at each other for a long moment before Weems lets out a long, tired sigh. She pinches the bridge of her nose before she looks at the macabre girl. 
"How are your classes going?" Weems asks.
Wednesday looks unimpressed as she lets out a dull "Fine."
"I hear you're taking class notes for Fae when she wakes up," Weems smiles then, and Wednesday narrows her eyes.
"Only because Enid's writing is so cacographic that it'd be more legible if it was put through a shredder."
Weem merely chuckles, rubbing her temples. "The reason I've called you to my office is that the investigation is finally coming to an end." Weems folds her hands together on the desk in front of her. "I know you've given the police your statement, but I thought I'd get the event recounted by you myself."
"I've assumed you read the report?" Wednesday asks, her chin jilted slightly. 
Weems nods.
"Then you already know what happened. I will not be changing my story," Wednesday raises her brow. "She was kidnapped. I found the clues to where she was and the fact that Henry was the culprit. When I arrived, she was unconscious and chained to the table, poisoned with a draeconium potion."
Wednesday watches as Weems's hands tighten slightly.
"Henry gave his unremarkable sob story before we engaged in combat. The noises woke her up, and she freed herself before she defended us against Henry."
"I noticed you weren't very descriptive in this area in your report," Weems points out.
"Everything she did was something only a high lord's daughter or a night faerie would be able to do, so I will keep it to myself. The police are welcome to come and try to get an answer out of me," Wednesday's eyes glint as she gives a sharp smile, "but at their own risk."
Weems gives a wry smile and waves her hand for Wednesday to continue.
"Henry's desperation to attack us and gain the upper hand led him to strain his eyes and lose consciousness. At that moment, Enid and everyone else barged in as they finally escaped his mindscape. We all made our way back here to get medical help."
Weems stares at Wednesday after the girl finishes recounting the story. "I see," the principal says evenly after a moment. "And that was what happened? Henry lost consciousness and you left him there immediately after?"
"Yes. I wasn't going to go out of my way to bring back a kidnapper and our attempted murderer," Wednesday shrugs. 
"He could have died," Weems emphasizes pointedly. "Which would've been another death here at Nevermore two years in a row."
"His failure to kill us both is his own fault. He should deal with the consequences of it himself. The authorities were able to get them, were they not? I hear he's resting in his own guarded room." There was a telling smirk on Wednesday's face.
"Yes," Weems's voice is hard. "Though I'm sure you know the guards are useless, considering he no longer has eyes and can't use his gift anymore."
"I heard rumors around the hospital," Wednesday's face was indifferent again. 
"Wednesday," Weems sighs. "This was a disaster. Henry Morrison Sr wants to further investigate the disappearance of his son's eyes. He's convinced that they were surgically removed and considering there was only you in this situation that was conscious, he wants to press charges against you."
"Is he an absolute moron?" Wednesday raises her brow. "Is he not aware of what his son attempted to do?"
"Yes, well—"
"I encourage him to try to press charges against me with the lack of evidence he has. This case would be so laughable, I wouldn't even need to hire legal help with how guaranteed my victory is."
"Yes," Weems cuts in before Wednesday can say anything else. "And I told him as such."
Wednesday sharply looks at the principal, her eyes full of suspicion. She has no doubts that Weems knew she had gouged out Henry's eyes. After all, she had timed it perfectly for the authorities to arrive on time before he could die. 
The optic nerve was completely severed to ensure his psychic abilities could never manifest again, and then she fed his eyeballs to the fish in the river as she rowed her way back. 
"I have informed Mr. Morrison Sr that back in 1956, there was a similar incident where a psychic had over-exerted himself, resulting in his eyes bursting and it seemed that may be the case here." Weems's eyes seem to search for something in Wednesday, but it doesn't seem like she's looking for the truth. "There's no proof indicating otherwise. With that, Henry Jr is expelled, obviously."
"Will he be going to jail like Tyler?" Wednesday's quick to ask.
"Well, considering only one student attacked—no, I'm not counting you as you foolishly went after Fae alone—it's not enough to warrant having the academy file charges—"
"Of course," Wednesday hisses disdainfully. "We wouldn't want to potentially harm the school's impeccable reputation—"
"—That being said," Weems cut in forcefully, giving Wednesday a stern look. "As Fae's guardian, I am personally filing charges. I'm quite confident Morrison Sr will want to accept the plea bargain when we meet next week, lest he wants a long, grueling court battle where I will drag his family name through the mud."
Wednesday went quiet. She doesn't apologize, but there's a mild look of respect in Wednesday’s eyes. Her eyes flicker down and then back up. "Why did you want me to recount the report if the investigation has obviously concluded?"
Weems gathers the paper on her desk, shuffling them to line up. "I merely wanted to hear the events in your own words, as the police will still want Fae's matching statement when she awakens."
Wednesday stares on.
"I'm dismissing you for the day," Weems says as she puts the papers back on her desk. "I'm rather tied up with things I cannot put off, and I have a meeting in half an hour. There's a car waiting for you at the gates."
"Why—" Wednesday starts to ask, but she can feel her heart thudding against her ribcage almost painfully, and she relishes in it. 
"I have let the hospital staff know you'll be arriving to check her out on my authorization. I have already handled her discharge papers over the phone earlier. Listen to me for once and arrive before the police do," Weems says, dismissing Wednesday.
Wednesday gets up and walks out of the office briskly. She begins to walk towards the gates outside but stops. Turning towards her room, Wednesday first goes there and picks up the fuzzy black blanket, folding it neatly together, then draping it over her arm. She grabs a single grape lollipop from Enid's desk before she takes the shortest way to the front gates. 
The ride feels tediously long, and Wednesday snaps at the driver to drive faster. It barely comes to a stop before Wednesday gets out and walks through the hospital doors. She doesn't make herself known to the front desk receptionists and takes the stairwell up and down the memorized pathway to room 316. 
The door is already open, but there's no noise inside. There's a moment when Wednesday's heart drops at the lack of noise. Wednesday's used to feeling miserable; it brings her comfort and joy now even to feel so. Occasionally, she'll feel a type of misery she could live without. 
Wednesday's never been aware of how un-miserable she wants to be as she approaches your door. 
The moment Wednesday steps in, her face doesn't change at all. If anything, she looks more dispassionate than usual. 
But she blinks. 
"Hi, Wednesday."
You've probably said it hundreds of times now. You've said it in the same tone over and over, but Wednesday suddenly feels like it's better than any music she's heard. It even sounds better than Pugsley's screams. 
You're smiling at her. You look tired with the bags and dark circles under your eyes, but you're alive, and you look so—Wednesday clenches her jaw—hers. You just look like hers. Franz Kafka said it best: you are the knife she turns inside herself. 
"You are so cruel, Wednesday. I wake up to make your world less sunny, and you bring me only one grape lollipop? Rest assured you'll be listening to the grievances I have against you."
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"We should get up soon, I need to apply your salve."
"Can't you just apply it like this? You did yesterday."
"Need I remind you how long it took and in the end, I had to get up to get to the places I couldn't reach."
"I think I can stretch my wings further today. You might not have to get up."
Wednesday sighs at your mutterings but leaves it be. You'll probably be more agreeable to moving in an hour anyway. 
Your body is a steady weight on top of hers, and you radiate a warmth that Wednesday thought would make her uncomfortable with how cool her body normally is. But it just makes everything tepid, and Wednesday finds she has a penchant for it. 
Your head rests against her chest, and you once commented how eerie it was that it was such a slow and quiet heartbeat, like she might as well be dead. The words were entirely flattering. 
Wednesday stares at the ceiling; she knows you're slowly falling asleep again. The past two weeks, you've been rather boring as all you can do is rest, but Wednesday finds it gives her a lot of time to think.
Her story has slowly been changing—it has been ever since she's grown closer to you. Between the mysteries and the morbidity of everything, her main character seems to be experiencing something else too. 
Wednesday thinks about what it means to her and comes to an utterly disgusting conclusion. 
She's happy. 
It's so repugnant that Wednesday constantly sneers at herself. She has no desire to expand on it, but she'll catch herself thinking of useless things. It dampens the happiness into something Wednesday's also unfamiliar with, and she can't decide which is worse. 
Wednesday's fingers trail over the arches of your wings, feeling the bone just underneath the soft feathers. Your wing twitches, but you say nothing. She continues her exploration of her wings, careful over the wounds that are still slowly healing but have been much better with the salve she created using Goody's spellbook. 
Your wings start trilling when Wednesday reaches further toward the middle. The skin is thinner there, but the feathers are lush and thick.
"Tickles," you mumble, your brows furrowing but not opening your eyes.
Wednesday glances down at you before she pulls the blanket up higher. "Come with me to my manor on the next Parents' Day."
You let out a big yawn, ruffling your feathers with a small shake. "Are you sure?" You mumble, still sleepy.
"My mother invited you."
You hum. "Sure, it'd be nice to see where you live. I think I'll want to have dinner with Larissa on Friday night, but I can leave after."
"We'll go together on Saturday morning."
"'kay," you mutter sleepily. 
There's a lull in silence again, and Wednesday feels discontentment in her chest. She wonders if you can hear it as you lay over her heart.
Wednesday clears her throat. "I have thought of a moniker for you."
She can feel you smiling.
"Oh?" You say amusedly, but you continue to lay there with your eyes closed. "Let's hear it."
"I believe we should just stick with Fae. We've already gone on too long, and there'd be no point in changing it now. Even if other faeries came to this school, there's still only one Fae. You'd merely confuse everyone with a new alias."
You let out a laugh then, shifting in Wednesday's arms. "It took you six months to come to that conclusion? Did you even come up with anything else?"
"Nothing that I would allow anyone else to call you," Wednesday huffs with annoyance, still cursing her father's passed-on nicknaming abilities.
"Why not?"
Silence again. Wednesday seems to be debating her discontentment before she says, "you are mine."
It's so simple, the words and the way she says it. 
You finally open your eyes as you lift your head to look up at Wednesday, who is resting against the headboard of your bed. She looks at you as if challenging you to say otherwise. 
"So, we're dating?" You tilt your head.
"Yes," Wednesday says with finality but also looks pained at the frivolous words and then sighs. "I never thought I'd be capable of wanting someone like this. I don't do feelings but all you make me do is feel things I have to research later."
"What kind of words?"
"Ridiculous words that I'm convinced are fake," Wednesday deadpans. "Regardless, I don't do feelings, but the idea of not experiencing more with you is unbearable."
"You're mine then?" you say, and it's more of a statement than a question.
"I am," Wednesday confirms.
You let out a soft laugh, and Wednesday tilts her head. 
"I never thought I'd ever have anyone to call mine," you say with a quiet smile. "I have very few things, Wednesday. I promise to treat you very well."
Wednesday nods once, her fingers tracing over a feather. You lift yourself higher with your hands, coming face to face with the grim girl, your nose brushing against hers. She was so serious looking.
"I discovered last year that I'm capable of evolving," Wednesday says quietly, her lips brushing against yours as her hands rest on the small of your back. "It's inequitable how much you've affected me."
You smile widely then, your lips parting in a huff of laughter. They're so ridiculous. Really, you're made for her, and she's made for you. "Wednesday, you've changed me since the day I laid my eyes on you." You kiss her, and the only noise in the room is the sound of your wings gently fluttering with excitement and Wednesday's stolen breath.
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"I believe I've come up with an acceptable arrangement of your epithet," Wednesday declares. "I'm owed your phone number."
You don't even look at her as you blindly reach for your phone on your desk, too comfortable to move from lying on top of Wednesday as you cuddle.
Wednesday watches you fiddle around on your device before her phone in her sweater pocket vibrates. 
She pulls her phone out and sees there's a text from you.
(xxx)-xxx-xxxx: save this number 😗
"What is the meaning of this?" Wednesday asks, her voice low and dangerous, but you seem unbothered.
"You have my number now?"
"You had my phone number this entire time?" Wednesday feels something brewing inside of her, and it's mainly murder. 
You nod, still lying on top of her with your eyes closed. "Enid gave it to me after the bet was made."
"Why?" Wednesday demanded.
"Because I asked for it?"
"Then why make the ridiculous bet? Did you enjoy listening to such brainless suggestions?" 
"I told you," you smile. "I only make bets where I'll win either way. I wanted you to come up with something and win to give you the excuse of asking for my number. If you didn't, then Enid was already giving up and about to suggest we stick to Fae the next time it got brought up. I would've texted you after the bet was over."
Wednesday stares down at you, and she bores into the side of your head and plots silently.
"You are detestable, but I respect your strategy and deception. Although, regardless of the fact you are mine will not save you from my revenge."
You finally look up at Wednesday's unimpressed stare and smile at her. 
"Threatening me with a good time again, are you?"
END
EPILOGUE 1
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Hope you enjoyed the series! :)
I will be opening up a temporary taglist of 50 people to be notified when the oneshots and sequel is up! Comment or reblog on this post only to be added (pls don't send to my inbox bc i will miss it 💔) you can still always follow my library blog for notifs @missmonsters2-library
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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 months
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Lunch
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Summary: Javi's rough start to the work week is turned around when he finds a surprise from his daughters in his lunch
Word Count: 3.1K (oops)
Paring: Dad!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)
Warnings: Literally nothing but sweet, sickening fluff, Javi being so in love with his family, Javi being the ultimate girl dad, a lot of glitter (?)
A/N: Our favorite family is back! I am a firm believer that Girl Dad!Javi keeps every single piece of artwork his daughters give to him and has a wall at his office dedicated to all of their drawings and crafts because he refuses to get rid of any of them 😭 I love them so much, they make me sick, your honor 🫡 unbeata bc that's just who I am, apologies in advance for the mistakes
Series Masterlist. Never Too Late Masterlist
4 hours into Monday and Javier Peña was already counting down the hours until Friday. It seemed like this week was going to have no problem giving Javi a swift kick in the ass back to reality after another blissful weekend with you and the girls, a grumpy frown falling upon his face, wishing he could rewind back just a few hours to when the biggest problems he was trying solved revolved around which book his daughters were picking out for bedtime, rather than strategy meetings on how to solve the better half of the southern drug trade still ranging in Mexico. 
Rubbing his hands over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, Javi let out a sigh, grumbling low in his chest before running his hands through the dark curls of his hair, praying that the closed door of his office was enough to give his co-workers at the Laredo Sheriff's Department enough of a clue to let him at least try to enjoy his lunch in silence.  
Shuffling and stacking a few stray papers left out on his desk, Javi cleared a space for the brown paper sack he mindlessly pulled out of his work bag, plopping it in front of him without a second look. He shuffled through the pocket he knew he had an extra fork in somewhere, considering he was at the point of eating his lunch with nothing but his hands before venturing out to the common kitchen where the rest of his co-workers were, ready to disrupt the sacred silence and peace that was his lunch time. 
“Of course I forgot a fucking fork…” Javi grumbled to himself, abandoning his search in his bag after a few minutes, letting out another disappointed huff, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the speckled tiles of the ceiling. Javi was just about to get up, bracing himself for the perilous journey for a plastic fork he was about to embark on, when the corner of the lunch bag perched on his desk caught his eye. 
Was that… glitter?
As his gaze shifted down the rest of his bag, Javi’s impatient and bothered demeanor had quickly shifted, a soft smile growing between his cheeks, picking up the lunch sack that had very clearly been given a makeover by his daughters before disappearing into his work bag this morning. 
What was once a plain brown paper bag had somehow been turned into a hodgepodge of arts and crafts- glitter, pink and purple hearts, several stickers from separate collections of puppies, Star Wars, and unicorns, doodles and drawings from each of the girls, and a stray Batman band-aid that Harper must have added, considering the 17 she had covered herself in last night for fun. 
Quietly laughing to himself at his girl’s creation, Javi spent a few moments thoroughly examining all sides of the bag, his heart melting to read “Daddy’s Lunch- From Lucy, Elliot, Harper and Mommy” scribbled across the front. 
Carefully, Javi opened the top of the crinkly brown paper, revealing a plethora of surprising goodies inside, the first being a tiny stuffed cow and a fruit-by-the-foot that he obviously had no recollection of packing for himself last night. Setting the things down on his desk, Javi shuffled through the next added layer, this one consisting of another fruit-by-the-foot and a half eaten granola bar, which one of the girls clearly had gotten into before his lunch had departed from home.
 The last thing hiding lunch was a piece of paper that had been folded several times to fit inside the bag, Javi gently removing it with the rest of his surprise treasures. As he unfolded the now somewhat crumpled paper, the grin on his face began to grow wider and wider, seeing the colorful crayon creations doodled on the page. Before him, sat a paper with drawings of each of the girls done by themselves, perfectly embodying their tiny personalities. Lucy’s was neatly sketched and colored, and then outlined in a darker color to make the inside colors pop, Elliot’s had crazy scribbled hair and was holding a hockey stick in not one, but both hands, and Harpers was done in every color that the Crayola crayon box had to offer. 
As if their adorable self-portraits weren’t enough to have him in a puddle, in the middle of their artwork was a drawing of Javi standing between them with the words “We love you Daddy!”  etched in big, pink bubble letters above them. 
Javi had been so enamored by the art his daughters had made him, taking in every stroke and scribble on the page, he hadn’t noticed the smaller note that had fallen to his desk, your neat and careful handwriting etched across the paper. 
Jav,
3 little munchkins were very insistent on re-making Daddy’s lunch last night, and even more insistent on decorating your very boring brown bag. They told me that they were adding a few surprises to your lunch, so this is me apologizing in advance for any half eaten snacks or stuffed animals that may have ended up in there. I hope you have a great day, we all miss you lots and can’t wait to see you later. 
Love you lots, 
Osita 
Even though it was nothing but a few words scribbled down on a piece of paper and a drawing similar to one he had seen a thousand times before, it never failed to surprise Javi how something so small really did mean everything to him.  
Years ago, still working for the DEA, in the midst of chaos and corruption in Colombia, one of his former agents had always insisted on carrying his “lucky” drawing from his son in his back pocket on every mission he was sent on. Back then, the idea of carrying a colored, crumpled piece of paper in his jeans for good luck seemed like a somewhat ridiculous notion, but now, as Javi stared up at the bulletin board next to his desk, overflowing with drawings, paintings, and projects from his 3 daughters, he couldn’t imagine a world where he didn’t hold any gift from his girls so near and dear to his heart that he ever dared to let it go. 
Overlapping his newest artwork over the most recent crafts given to him to hang in his office, Javi hung today’s drawing at the front and center of the board, your note nestled next to it, beaming with pride at the love and and joy at how full his heart felt from a few simple pieces of paper. 
Admiring just a little longer before reaching over to the phone at the corner of his desk, Javi began to punch the familiar pattern of your home phone number on the receiver, patiently tapping his fingers as the line rang, the other hand grabbing his actual lunch food out of the flamboyantly decorated bag. 
“Hello?” 
“Hey baby, it’s me.” 
“Hi. Is everything okay?” You questioned cautiously, somewhat surprised by his mid-day work call. 
“No, everything is-” He paused, smiling back his lunch bag, “everything is great. I just had some time during lunch and wanted to see if the 3 stooges are around so I can say thank you for my lunch.” 
“Oh God, I almost forgot that was last night’s surprise project. How bad was it? I was only there to supervise lunch bag decorating because they were adamant they were more than capable than packing extra snacks for you.” You snickered, Javi practically almost able to see the hysterical look plastering your face through the phone, laughing right along with you at the adorable gifts they had left behind for him. 
“Well, I got…” Javi stopped, reaching back over in his pile of goodies, “two fruit-by-the-foots, a stuffed purple cow, and a half eaten granola bar that has Elliot written all over it.” 
“Is that Daddy? Did he get our lunch?! Did he like it?!” A chorus of little voices squealed in the background. 
“Why don’t you ask him yourself.” You snickered, the muffled and muted sounds of the phone being passed off to the girls rustling through the other end of the line as Javi nestled his phone between his ear and shoulder, beginning to open up his food as he waited for a response from his daughters. 
“Hi Daddy!” The 3 shouted through the phone in unison.
“Hola, pollitas! (Hi, little chickens) Thank you so much for my lunch today!” 
“Did you like the bag, Daddy? It was my idea to make it look pretty because the brown is so boring.” Lucy boasted, in her lovingly know-it-all tone, making sure her dad knew she was without a doubt, the ringleader of the lunchtime antics. 
“I added the extra snacks!” Elliot chimed in, making sure her voice was well pronounced through the phone ensuring that Javi could her her contributions. 
“I helped-ed too!” Harper interrupted, trying to butt in over her sisters. 
“Well, Mommy helped a little bit too, but it was mostly us!” 
“Was it a surprise, Daddy?” 
“Best surprise I’ve had in a very long time. I already put your drawing up on my board so everyone can see your beautiful artwork. I think everyone at work is gonna start thinking I have professional artists that live in my house.” Javi’s cheeks were already sore from the goofy grin that was only getting wider every second he listened to his daughter’s sweet little voices on the phone, the girls erupting in a fit of giggles at his compliment. “Los amos mucho, morritas (I love you so much, kiddos).” 
“Hey Boss, you gotta second, I-” Agent Carter half knocked, opening Javi’s office door, stopping in his tracks as he met Javi’s cheerful grin turned death glare upon his arrival, slowly retracting his steps while Javi let out a scornful sigh, holding his hand out to get Carter to at least let him wrap up before dealing with whatever bullshit was coming his way. 
“Hey pollitas? Daddy has to get back to work, but I’ll see you in a little bit when I get home, okay? I love you so much. Can you pass the phone back to Mom?” 
“Okay, bye Daddy! Mommy! Mommy, Daddy wants to say goodbye!” 
“The gremlins said you wanted to say goodbye?” You laughed over the clatter of the phone being handed haphazardly back to you. 
“Yeah baby, I gotta go back to work, but I just wanted to say I love you and thanks for helping them with lunch, it was really fucking cute. I’ll see you later, okay?” 
“The cutest 3 stinkers that I’ve ever met. I love you too, Jav. Bye, babe.” 
“Love you, bye.” 
As the dial tone went silent, Javi hung up the phone, taking in a deep exhale, still holding his hand out at his co-worker to preemptively prevent whatever what stupid remark was about to come out of his mouth. 
“I wasn’t gonna say anything!” Carter winced, holding up his hands in defense at Javi’s death glare, trying his best to hide the sly smirk spreading between his lips. “…. I just never really struck you for a rainbow glitter type of guy.” 
“Fuck off, Carter. Give me 10 more minutes to try and eat my lunch in fucking peace.” Javi groaned, trying to shoo him back out the door he had barged in from.
“Okay, okay, message received! I will say…I do think the glitter really does capture your bright and sparkly personality though, the unicorn stickers are really a nice-” 
“Carter…” 
“Sorry, sorry, I’m leaving! “ 
As the door clicked shut, Javi let his annoyance slip back to content, letting the colorful sparkle of his lunch back serve as his beacon of hope for the rest of the work day, thankful for the extra piece of home he got to keep with him until he got to see his girls again. 
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“Hey, I’m home!” Javi’s familiar voice rang through the hallway, barely 3 steps through the front door before the girls were rushing through the house, barrelling towards their dad to attack him with the biggest bear hugs their little bodies could muster. 
“Daddy!” They screeched, wrapping around every free inch of Javi’s body that they could reach, giggling as he crouched down to greet them, peppering them with ticklish kisses all over their faces. 
“Hola, Pollitas! Oh, I missed you guys! Did you guys have a good day today?” Javi grinned, now letting the bags he was holding in his hands drop to the floor, collecting his daughters in his grasp, wrapping them up in the tightest hug he could manage through their excited squirms and wiggles. 
“Yeah, we went to the park with Mommy and then we came home and played soccer and then ran through the sprinkler!” Lucy beamed, her sisters nodding in happy agreement, excited to tell their dad about today’s shenanigans while he was at work. 
“I scored two goals on Mommy!” Elliot added, her face lighting up with pride at her accomplishment. 
“No way! Nice stuff, Ellie Bellie!” Javi grinned, holding his hand out for a ferocious high-five from Elliot, pretending to shake his hand in pain at her strength, making the girls snicker at their dad’s overdramatics. “Hey, can you tell me where Momma is, I gotta go say hi to her too and then you can tell me all about the rest of your day, okay?” 
“She’s in the kitchen making dinner!” Lucy replied, giggling as Javi pressed a long kiss into the top of her head, nestled between her messy hair. 
“Mommy’s makin’ ‘pisgetti!” Harper cooed, Lucy and Elliot trying their best to keep from laughing at their youngest sister’s inability to pronounce spaghetti. 
“Thanks, lindas (cuties). Why don’t you guys go clean up your stuff and then we can help Mom with the rest of dinner?” 
“Okay!” The three agreed, dashing back through the house and disappearing down the hallways, Javi laughing to himself as he kicked off his shoes and picked up his bags, heading into the kitchen to find you at the stove, happily humming and swaying your hips to the radio playing in the background as you cooked, so wrapped up in what you were doing that you hadn’t realized your husband’s presence. 
Quietly setting down his bags on the counter, Javi rested his hip against the stone ledge, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you work, wondering to himself if he would ever get over how even the simplest things like watching you make dinner made him fall more and more in love with you, the familiar warmth of home and you creeping through his cheeks in a soft smile. 
“Hi, Momma.” He smirked, making you squeal in surprise as he snuck behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a soft kiss into your shoulder, rocking you back and forth in his grasp. “I missed you guys today.” 
“Hi, handsome. We missed you, too. The girls haven’t stopped asking when you were going to be home since you called at lunch time. They were so excited you liked your lunch. Sorry if it was a little obnoxious. I tried to tell ‘em to go easy on the glitter, so hopefully none ended up in your food.” You chuckled, shaking your head at the image of the finished lunch bag that had made its way to work with Javi this morning. You turned around to face Javi, his hands still resting on your hips as you draped your arms over his shoulders, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your lips meet his, his mouth lingering just a little longer than usual as you felt his smile growing amidst his kiss. “What was that for?” You blushed, butterflies swirling in your stomach as his lips gently pulled away from yours, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on your skin in the space where your t-shirt and shorts parted. 
“I love you so much. You and the girls, I just- I’m just so thankful for all of you.” Javi grinned, the soft brown of his eyes sparkling in the kitchen light, looking you up and down as if in awe of the fact that you were the woman he got to hold in his grasp at the end of each day for the rest of his life. 
“I love you too, you goof.” 
Before your lips could meet again, the happy giggles of your girls flooded through the kitchen, their little pitters and patters of their feet tumbling the hallway to greet the both of you again. Peeking over Javi’s shoulder, you cocked your head in confusion at the plastic bag your girls were now rummaging through on the counter, wondering what Javi had been shopping for on his way home. 
“What’s in the bag, Jav?” 
“Well…” He paused, making his way over to the kitchen counter with the girls, picking up the bag and tipping it over, shaking its contents out in front of them, “I figured, since the munchkins did such a good job with today’s lunch bag-” 
“STICKERS!” 
“GLITTER PENS?!”
“PUFFY PAINT!” 
The girls shrieked, picking up the various brightly colored craft items Javi had brought home with him, along with a pack of brown paper bags, making the reason for his pit stop abundantly clear, and making you smile even wider than you already were. 
“...I figured, I still have 4 days of lunches left, and you guys did such a good job with my lunch today, that you could decorate the rest of my lunch bags for the week.” 
“Really?!” The girls squealed, their faces lighting up in excitement. 
“Really, really.” Javi beamed, reaching his arms around the girls to pick them up, the 3 laughing and squirming in pure joy, your heart bursting at the seams watching just how much Javi loved his little girls and the silliest, smallest things he would do just to make them smile. 
“Mommy, can we start right now!? Please, please, pleaseeeeee?” Lucy begged, Elliot and Harper joining in with their silent plea of sweet puppy eyes. 
“Let’s help Mommy with dinner and then we can-” 
“It’s okay, I think spaghetti can wait a little longer.” 
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Taglist:
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iridiss · 2 months
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binging diaries again… finally got around to my diaries Aphmau redesign…
She’s a bundle of joy when she first arrives in town, a selfless and optimistic problem-solver who took one look at a rotting, decaying village and decided she would fix it up single-handedly. She repairs their houses, builds a guard tower, builds them a bigger and better farm, builds more homes, brings a lot more villagers and merchants to the town, rebuilds old alliances that decayed after Malik’s death and makes new ones with near and faraway towns. Shes stubborn and headstrong at times, and in the beginning her desire to always see the best in people leads her into some nasty situations, but through her actions, agency, and persistent efforts, she becomes the embodiment of hope and healing for the town (Very similarly to how Irene the Matron aided her hometown in its recovery!). This is why the town elects her the Lord of the village.
Loss after loss, battle after battle, traumatic event after traumatic event, the state of the world slowly falling apart around her gradually chips away at her bright and cheery demeanor, matures her, hardens her into a woman that is- still very much capable of being sweet and happy and warm and loving!!! She never loses her core personality!! But it…changes her nonetheless. It hurts, and she grieves, and it comes dangerously close to breaking her over the years. She ends up hardening into a woman who’s capable of playing both the darling lover and the military General. A woman who’s learned how to be cautious and wary and approach things tactically, who learned how to determine the difference between a good person who just needs to be warmed out of their shell—and a charismatic liar whose nowhere near as good as they seem on the surface. She’s mature, she’s wise, she’s a natural leader, she’s cautious and on occasion can be rather guarded, but…she’ll always be warm and gentle and kind on the inside.
After Aaron dies, her mental health takes a massive dip, and on occasion she ends up in a rather dark mental place. A vengeful, angry, violent place. Come season three, she’s learned that sometimes you have to kill in order to protect the ones you love the most, and after he dies, that part of her becomes…a bit worse. If you’re her ally, the only change you would have noticed is the deepened bags under her eyes and her lack of sleep, but if you’re an established enemy, like, say, Zane, you might notice that she’s stopped talking things out and started jumping straight to Kill Mode (…which is, tbh, valid). She leans heavily on her partners to help her through this darker time in her life, and after the series finale when they get Aaron back and Shad is defeated, she’s doing much better.
She’s a sweetheart and a goody-two-shoes, yes, but like. she’s also basically a military general in the midst of a very long war. she’s got fuckin ptsd and is MUCH more emotionally mature and wisened than her Mystreet and Void Paradox counterparts. girlies been through hell. literally.
Also religious trauma I think she’d have plenty fair share of religious trauma from the whole Irene business
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tsukimefuku · 2 months
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THE FOODIES & GOODIES EVENT MASTERLIST — JUJUTSU KAISEN
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Bento Box Blunder (by @pmpmyread) Pairing/Characters: Kento Nanami x f!Reader Tags/cw: None, barring the gratuitous mentions of food. Summary: You’d always admired Kento Nanami from a distance, even harbouring a small crush on him, sentiments you’d only allowed yourself to indulge within the safe sanctuary of your discretion. Then one day, you stole his lunch.
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Tuna Mayo (by @redlikerozez) Pairing/characters: Inumaki Toge x gn!Reader Tags/cw: Canon typical descriptions of violence, dealing with loss of limb, probably inaccurate description of making rice balls. Summary: Inumaki Toge tries to make rice balls in the aftermath of Shibuya. Reader helps him out. Or an Inumaki Toge-centric fic about dealing with the events of Shibuya while also being absolutely whipped for GN!Reader.
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Get that bread, Sir (by @rahuratna) Characters: Nanami Kento. Ijichi Kiyotaka. Tags/cw: fluff, comedy. Summary: One assistant. One sandwich. One ruthless adversary in the quest for quality bread.
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Love you a latte (by @kentocalls) Pairing/characters: Fushiguro Toji x f!Reader Tags/cw: Fluff. Summary: Lazy mornings with Toji and a passion for coffee.
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Lollipop kiss (by @tsukimefuku) Pairing/characters: Kusakabe Atsuya x gn!Reader Tags/cw: comedy, fluff, this man is completely clueless but reader isn’t making things any easier. making out and happy ending. there is a bartender very invested in the drama. a little suggestive if you squint. Summary: your workplace crush, kusakabe, is pretty dense when it comes to romance, so you try to ease things out with a bag of lollipops.
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My Cinnamon Girl (by @actuallysaiyan) Pairing/characters: Nanami Kento x f!Reader Tags/cw: smoking, general fluff Summary: Kento is your regular customer and one night when he really needs you, he ends up finding you outside smoking and you offer him some pastries.
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Love you a waffle lot, you know? (by @senseifupa) Pairing/characters: Higuruma Hiromi x f!Reader Tags/cw: sfw with smoochin, fluff, established relationship, soft Hiromi. Summary: Hiromi and you share warm moments over waffles.
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My "Batter" Half (by @seireiteihellbutterfly) Pairing/characters: Nanami x f!Reader Tags/cw: saw, fluff, cuteness. Summary: You decide to make one of your favorite South Indian recipes while accompanied by Nanami.
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Good Enough to Eat (by @fattybattysblog) Pairing/characters: Mahito x Female Original Character Tags/cw: Smut, inappropriate use of food and cursed techniques, temperature play, Mahito is his own content warning. Summary: "Can't I just visit a friend?" he asked slyly. "We'd have to be friends first," she grumbled. Mahito's laughter echoed through the room, a sound that made Hairi's skin prickle. He sat upright and rested his arm on his knee. "Touché," he said, licking another drip of ice cream. "But, you know, we're not so different. We could be friends." Hairi raised an eyebrow. "Friends don't usually show up unannounced and uninvited." "Isn't spontaneity the spice of life?" he leaned forward, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Besides, I think we both know there's more between us than just animosity." She scoffed, taking a defiant bite of her own cone. "In your dreams." "Actually... in yours," he purred, his gaze lingering on her lips.
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Egg Fried Rice (by @tiny-wooden-robot-fics) Pairing/characters: Geto Suguru x Original Female Character Tags/cw: Fluff, Mentions of food and alcohol, Flirting, Pre-established friendship, Geto and OC are roommates, There is some suggestiveness near the end, This is part of a series Summary: “I was,” she admits, “but I realized I didn’t feel like working out tonight and decided to make greasy food instead.” She raises an eyebrow, taking his spoon from him and helping herself to his bowl of fried rice. “And anyway, I’m allowed to eat and drink whatever I want, Suguru.” “The point of cooking enough for both of us is so we can each have our own… is it not?” He looks pointedly at the spoon in her hand.  “It tastes better when I take it from you,” she laughs. She holds a spoonful of rice up to his mouth. He hesitates only for a moment before letting her feed him.  “You’re definitely different,” he chuckles once he’s done chewing. He doesn’t realize he’s said the words aloud until she goes quiet, her brown eyes wide and staring. 
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starsandhughes · 11 months
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Penalty Box Series— Trevor Zegras Edition (Four)
23-24 Season Masterlist
previous: three
next: five
a/n: i skipped the coyotes game bc it was... so boring... and there was zero z content in it
OCTOBER 22, 2023
yourusername
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liked by trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, and 16,439 others
yourusername welcome back to my post game penalty box update show: sissy missed shatty edition! (alternatively titled "my fiancée took a hard hit and then looked like the greek god he is on the bench and i can't wait to take a trip to mount olympus")
after a long two periods of almosts, mason finslly scored first in the third! thst scoring momentum fid continue, though! just... for the other team...
the ducks did succumb to the bruins, but my z-baby got a penalty! so that's a plus! he slashed marchand and he didn't even get licked! (dear brad, if you're reading this, please lick my fiancé on october 26)
i'm sorry, boys, that you're on a three game lose streak, but i can feel it in my SOUL that you're going to cease that trend soon! use the power of friendship, my dear quackies!
i love you, always, trevy💜 pls do a trick soon! and you looked really cute smiling and watching shatty's video on the bench! prepare for kisses
p.s. dear mom/shatty, I HAVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH! SEEING YOUR VIDEO MONTAGE TRIBUTE ON THE SCOREBOARD HAD ME TEARING UP! I LOVE YOU! DON'T DIE! (@/shattdeuces)
tagged trevorzegras
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trevorzegras am i cute? or am i god like? what's the scale here? is there a graphic organizer? (i love you, forever, my sweet girl💜)
yourusername the graphic organizer is my internal feelings and there's never a rhyme or reason for any decision i make <3
jackhughes @/yourusername so just like how you make every other decision?
yourusername @/jackhughes i could smack you, there's rhyme and reason for that decision
trevorzegras @/jackhughes she's going to set you on fire
jackhughes @/trevorzegras she failed the first time and she will fail again
_alexturcotte @/jackhughes why would you bring up senior year? people can read that
jackhughes @_alexturcotte the people need to know she's insane!
trevorzegras @/jackhughes USED* to be insane
_alexturcotte @/jackhughes don't act all innocent!we didn't call you two the twins of terror for nothing
yourusername @/jackhughes lexi sold you OUT HA
user52 z in this game has me acting up🥵
_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras what's your record streak this season? is it 5, like me?
trevorzegras @_quinnhughes in my defense, one of my penalties was me serving a too many men
yourusername @/trevorzegras and then you hooked hakanpää
_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras you did do that
trevorzegras i came out to have a good time and i’m honestly feeling so attacked right now
yourusername @/trevorzegras mwah!
shattdeuces i love and have missed you, too, daughter! p.s. your post-game goody bag made the other guys very jealous!
yourusername i hope you didn't share anything!
shattdeuces i would never betray you like that
yourusername i appreciate your never ending loyalty <3 where are we on the whole "marchand licking z" thing?
shattdeuces i am not asking him that
yourusername ... accidentally show him my post then
trevorzegras @/shattdeuces please no
yourusername @/trevorzegras just bite him in return
_quinnhughes i’d pay to see that
trevorzegras @/shattdeuces SEND HELP
shattdeuces @/trevorzegras i laughed and he asked what i was laughing at. it's in his hands now.
yourusername @/trevorzegras he lick, you bite, i smooch
trevorzegras @/yourusername that smooch better just be for me
yourusername @/trevorzegras my smooches are only for you
user45 trevor nudging terry to look at the video board before going back to smiling like a fool at it makes me so emo🥹😭 give him shatty back!
jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras you're not in the negatives yet! that's an accomplishment!
yourusername so true!! he's thriving!
trevorzegras i’m growing up so fast!
jamie.drysdale @/yourusername remember when he was our son? now he's the father of your future children
trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale she's now crying under my shirt
jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras i’m on my way
trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale she's requesting blankets so we can build a fort
jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras i'm on my way home to get blankets
user9 slash that rat! he deserves it!
user14 the seventh pic shows the face of a man who knows damn well his teammate started a scrum over him
jackhughes you're so obsessed with him
yourusername he's my baby daddy for a reason
trevorzegras @/jackhughes i've been obsessed since the day i saw her
jackhughes @/trevorzegras we know
yourusername and i was obsessed with my rat the day i saw trevor
trevorzegras @/yourusername we know.
colecaufield @/trevorzegras ooo a period! there are some big feelings in those two words
_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras this is taking me back to the good ol' days when you'd come into the room screaming over matthew! so cute!
trevorzegras is it attack trevor day?!
_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras it's always attack trevor day
yourusername @/trevorzegras i love you! always!
trevorzegras @/yourusername mhmm i love you, forever
user76 three game loss streak? a z penalty? roughing penalties? that's ducks hockey, baby!
masonmctavish23 did i just get a backhanded compliment?
yourusername no?
masonmctavish23 am i being gaslighted?
yourusername gaslighting? that's a big word, kiddo, did one of your little friends teach you that?
masonmctavish23 my friends are your friends and your fiancé!
yourusername well they definitely didn't teach you that
trevorzegras @/yourusername HEY
jamie.drysdale @/yourusername HEY
yourusername @/trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale hi?
lhughes_06 @/jackhughes @_quinnhughes were we just going to let the "trip to mount olympus" comment slide?
_quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 i’ve given up
jackhughes @/lhughes_06 i threw up in the comfort of your bathroom in peace and moved on
yourusername @/lhughes_06 @/jackhughes @_quinnhughes you guys do know how i got pregnant, right?
trevorzegras @/yourusername i think i need a refresher course
lhughes_06 @/trevorzegras STOP IT
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