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#visiting home is a mixed bag
a-lexia11 · 23 days
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Pequeniña
FCB Femini x teen!reader
Alexia Putellas x teen!reader
Word count:2,8k
Summary: At 16, Y/N joins Barcelona and earns the nickname “Pequeniña” due to her youth and her small height. As the youngest member of the team, she receives a lot of attention from her older teammates, who are particularly protective of her.
Based on this request.
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The moment I stepped off the plane in Barcelona, my heart was in my throat. Everything felt larger than life—the airport, the city, and most of all, the opportunity ahead of me.
At sixteen, I was about to join FC Barcelona femini , a team filled with players I’d idolized for as long as I could remember. It felt surreal, like a dream I was about to wake up from at any moment.
I clutched the strap of my bag tightly as I navigated the bustling terminal, my mind spinning with a mix of excitement and nerves.
I had visited Spain before with my family, but this time was different. This wasn’t a holiday; this was my life now.
My Spanish was decent—good enough to get by—but the rapid conversations around me made me feel like I was back in school, struggling to keep up.
I could understand a lot, but speaking it fluently was another challenge altogether. Every word felt heavy on my tongue, and my nerves didn’t help.
The club had made arrangements for me to stay in a small hotel for the time being, which was intended as a temporary solution until a more permanent living situation could be established.
My parents had to remain in England due to their work commitments, and they also had the responsibility of caring for my younger siblings.
As a result, I found myself needing to adjust to this new environment on my own while waiting for a more stable and lasting accommodation to be found.
The room was nice, but it felt empty, cold. Every night, I missed the comforting chaos of my home in England—the noise of my younger siblings, the constant presence of my parents. I video-called them as much as I could, but it wasn’t the same.
They tried to reassure me, reminding me that this was the opportunity of a lifetime. They were right, of course, but that didn’t make the loneliness any easier.
Each morning, I would take the bus to the training ground. The ride was long, and I often found myself lost in thought, staring out the window as the city of Barcelona rushed past me.
The streets were vibrant and full of life, but I still felt like an outsider. On the bus, I tried to blend in, hoping no one would notice the nervous English girl clutching her bag like a lifeline.
The training ground was a different story. It was a place where I felt both at home and out of my depth at the same time. I was surrounded by football legends—players like Alexia Putellas, Aitana Bonmatí, Caroline Graham Hansen.
They were the best in the world, and here I was, trying to prove that I belonged on the same pitch as them. My shyness didn’t help. I kept to myself during those first few weeks, not wanting to draw too much attention.
My teammates quickly noticed this about me, and before long, they started calling me “Pequeniña” which I soon learned meant "little one" in Spanish.
At first,I did not really like but then I realized it was their way of showing affection, of letting me know that they had my back.
One day during training, I was paired with Fridolina Rolfö for some drills. She was kind but focused, her movements precise and powerful.
I watched her closely, trying to emulate her technique, but I was still a bit hesitant.
“Y/N, relax,” Frido said, her voice gentle yet firm as she passed the ball to me. “You’ve got the skills, you just need to trust yourself.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “I’m just… I don’t want to mess up.”
“You won’t,” she reassured me warmly, stepping closer and gently placing her hand on my shoulder. “And even if you do make a mistake, that’s a natural part of the learning process. We’re all here to support and guide you through it.”
Her words gave me a bit of confidence, and I focused on the drill.
By the end of the session, I felt like I had improved, even if just a little. As we wrapped up, Irene Paredes came over, smiling warmly and wrapping her arms around my shoulders.
“Good job today, Y/N,” she said, squeezing me lightly. “You’re getting there. Just keep working hard.”
“Thanks, Irene,” I replied, feeling a bit more at ease around her. Irene was someone I admired for her creativity on the pitch, and knowing she believed in me meant a lot.
Despite their encouragement, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was out of place. It wasn’t just about the football—though that was a huge part of it—it was everything.
Living in the hotel, navigating a new city, trying to fit in with a team that had already established itself as a family. I was the outsider, the youngest, the shy little girl who didn’t quite know where she belonged.
But Keira and Lucy were incredibly supportive; they are the other English girls on the team. It was really reassuring to converse with them in English and have some familiar company around.
Their presence made me feel more at ease and provided a sense of camaraderie.
——
One evening, after a particularly tough training session, I found myself alone in the lounge area of the training complex, scrolling through my phone. My fingers hovered over the screen, debating whether to call my parents.
I missed them more than I wanted to admit. That’s when Alexia Putellas found me.
“You okay, pequeniña?” she asked, sitting down beside me and putting her arm around my shoulders pulling me closer. Her presence was calming, and I immediately felt a little better just having her near.
“Yeah, just… thinking,” I replied, trying to downplay the homesickness that was gnawing at me.
Alexia looked at me for a moment, her eyes filled with understanding. “You know, if you ever need anything, you can always come to me.”
“I know” I said, though I still hesitated to lean on her too much. She was the captain, a legend—I didn’t want to burden her with my problems.
But Alexia wasn’t one to take no for an answer when it came to looking after her teammates, especially someone she had taken under her wing.
——
A few days later, she spotted me making my way to the training ground. The bus stop was only about a fifteen-minute walk from the facility, so I had to walk the rest of the way.
As I was walking, I suddenly heard a car honk behind me. Turning around, I spotted Alexia in her car, her familiar smile greeting me as she pulled up beside me.
She stopped and rolled down the window. “Hola, Pequeniña, are you walking to training?” she asked, her tone light and playful.
“Hi, Alexia. Yes, I am,” I responded with a small laugh. “The bus stop is about 15 minutes away, so I’m walking the rest of the way.”
She nodded thoughtfully before getting out of the car and grabbing my bag without hesitation. “Come on, get in. We’re going together,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
I watched as she walked to the trunk, placing my bag inside with care. A warm smile spread across my face as she opened the passenger door for me, and I slid into the seat, feeling grateful for her kindness.
During the final ten minutes of the car ride, Alexia asked me why I didn’t have anyone to take me to training and where I was living.
I hesitated, feeling a bit uncomfortable about sharing, but eventually, I confessed that I was staying alone in a hotel while my family was back in England.
Alexia's expression softened with concern, her brows knitting together as she said, “A 16-year-old shouldn’t be living alone, especially in a city you don’t know well, in a hotel, and where you’re still getting used to the language.”
Her sympathy was clear, and I could tell she genuinely worried about my situation. I simply shrugged in response, unsure of what else to say.
She was right, of course, but I didn’t have any other options at the moment. I had to manage the best I could.
After training, I was in the changing room getting ready to leave when Alexia came up to me. “I’m taking you to your hotel so you can pack your bags,” she said with determination.
I looked at her, puzzled. “What?”
“You’re moving in with me,” she replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
I was taken aback. She wanted me to move in with her? It seemed our conversation in the car had made an impression on her.
“Oh, it’s really okay, Alexia. You don’t have to do that,” I said, offering her a gentle smile. “I’ll manage living in the hotel. Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I’m not taking no for an answer,” she insisted firmly. “You’re too young to be living on your own. You’re coming home with me,” she declared, leaving no room for argument.
"But… I don’t want to be a burden," I protested, already feeling like I was intruding on her life.
"You’re not a burden, Y/N," she replied, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You shouldn’t be living alone in a hotel. It’s not right. You need a place that feels like home, and I want you to feel safe and comfortable. And, it’ll be easier for you to focus on football if you’re not worrying about all of that."
I tried to argue, but Alexia was insistent.
And so, I found myself moving into her apartment.
——
It was a bit strange at first, adjusting to living with someone who wasn’t family. But Alexia made it feel like home.
She cooked for me, made sure I was eating properly, and even helped me with my Spanish.
Living with her made everything easier. She wasn’t just my captain anymore—she was like a second mother, someone I could rely on.
During training, Alexia kept a close eye on me, always offering advice and encouragement. She wasn’t the only one, though.
Vicky, who was around my age, quickly became my closest friend.
Vicky had this infectious energy that made it impossible to be shy around her for long.
She was always cracking jokes and making everyone laugh, and it didn’t take long for her to pull me out of my shell.
“Vamos, Y/N, no puedes estar seria todo el tiempo. Divirtámonos un poco” (Come on, Y/N, you can't be serious all the time. Let's have some fun) she would say with a grin whenever she wanted to do something mischievous with the older girl.
Or she would always invited me to go out with her and Martina, who is also around our age.
“¿Has probado la comida de ese lugar que está al final de la calle?” (Have you tried the food at that place down the street yet?) Vicky asked, out of the blue as she dribbled the ball around me.
“Not yet,” I replied, trying to keep up with her quick movements.
“Deberíamos ir después del entrenamiento algún día” (We should go after training sometime) Martina suggested, her voice calm and measured as she passed the ball to me. “Tienen tapas muy buenas” (They have really good tapas.)
“Suena bien, pero tendré que preguntarle a Alexia” (Sounds good, but I’ll have to ask Alexia) I agreed, feeling a little thrill of excitement.
“Oh, es verdad—tienes que pedirle permiso a Mami Alexia antes de hacer cualquier cosa” (Oh, that's right—you need to ask Mami Alexia for permission before doing anything) Vicky teased, and I responded by sticking my tongue out at her.
I had developed a new habit of asking Alexia for permission every time Vicky invited me out, just like I used to do with my mom back in England.
——
As the season went on, I started to find my footing, both on and off the pitch.
The more I trained with my teammates, the more I felt like I was part of something special. And yet, there were still moments when my confidence wavered—especially during matches.
One game in particular stands out in my memory. We were playing against a tough, physical team, and I was struggling to hold my own.
I had the ball, trying to maneuver past a defender who was easily twice my size.
She shoved me hard, and I went down, hitting the ground with a thud that rattled my bones.
For a split second, I was stunned, the wind knocked out of me. But before I could even gather my thoughts, I heard Alexia’s voice, sharp and protective.
She was already there, standing between me and the other player. “¡¿Qué te pasa?!” (What’s wrong with you?) she snapped, her eyes blazing with a fierceness I had never seen before.
Aitana and Ingrid quickly joined her, forming a protective wall in front of me. The referee blew the whistle, but the message was clear—no one was going to mess with their “Pequeniña.”
I struggled to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest. I was grateful for my teammates’ protection, but at the same time, I felt a bit embarrassed.
I didn’t want to be the reason they had to stop the game or the one who needed defending all the time.
As I brushed off the dirt from my kit, Alexia turned to me, her expression softening as she placed a hand on my shoulder, bending down a little.
“Are you okay, nena?”she asked gently, her voice no longer laced with anger but concern.
I nodded, even though my pride was a little bruised. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Alexia.”
She smiled at me, the tension from a moment ago easing into something warmer. “Don’t let them push you around. You’re stronger than you think, Y/N.”
I took a deep breath, letting her words sink in. I knew she believed in me, and that meant a lot.
As the game continued, I tried to focus on that belief, using it to fuel my determination.
The rest of the match was tough, but I kept pushing, determined to show that I belonged on this team.
After the game, we all gathered in the locker room, the air filled with a mix of exhaustion and relief.
We had won, and everyone was in good spirits. As I was unlacing my boots, Caroline came over and sat down beside me.
“You did well out there,” she said with a nod of approval. “It’s not easy going up against players like that.”
I looked up at her, surprised. “Really? I feel like I could’ve done better.”
Caroline smiled, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “We all feel that way sometimes. But trust me, you held your own. And next time, you’ll be even better.”
Her words made me feel a little lighter, and I smiled back. “Thanks, Caroline.”
The locker room was bustling with activity, everyone chatting and laughing as they packed up their gear. I was about to head out when Vicky and Martina caught up with me.
“¡Hey, Y/N! ¿Te gustaría acompañarnos a cenar esta noche?” (Hey, Y/N! Are you up for grabbing dinner with us tonight?) Vicky asked, her eyes bright with excitement. “Estamos pensando en probar ese lugar de tapas que mencionó Martina” (We’re thinking of trying that tapas place Martina mentioned.)
I glanced at Alexia, aware that she was listening and silently seeking her approval. She responded with a gentle nod and a warm smile.
I looked back at Vicky and Martina before nodding my head happily.
“¡Genial!” (Great!) Martina chimed in, her calm demeanor a perfect balance to Vicky’s energy. “Será agradable relajarse después del partido” (It’ll be nice to unwind after that game.)
As we left the stadium, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for these moments of normalcy. Despite everything—the challenges, the homesickness, the pressure—I was starting to find my place here.
I wasn’t just the shy English girl anymore; I was becoming part of the team, part of this family.
——
As the weeks went by, I continued to settle into my new life. Training was intense, but I was improving every day.
My Spanish has improved significantly, to the point where I no longer require translations during training sessions.
I’ve become much more comfortable and fluent, allowing me to understand and participate in conversations and instructions without any difficulty.
My teammates were amazing—both on the pitch and off. They treated me like family, always looking out for me, always pushing me to be better.
But it wasn’t just about football. Living with Alexia had given me a sense of stability, something I desperately needed.
I could not say it enough but she really was more than just a mentor—she was someone I could rely on, someone who cared about me as a person, not just as a player.
One evening, after a particularly long day of school and training, I sat on the couch in Alexia’s living room, scrolling through my phone.
Alexia was in the kitchen, making dinner. The smell of something delicious wafted through the apartment, and I realized how much I had come to appreciate these quiet moments with her.
“Hey, Pequeñina ,” Alexia called from the kitchen. “Dinner’s almost ready. Want to help me set the table?”
“Sure,” I said, putting my phone down and heading to the kitchen. I grabbed some plates and cutlery, setting them out on the small dining table.
As we sat down to eat, Alexia looked at me with a thoughtful expression. “You know, Y/N, you’ve come a long way since you first got here.”
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. “Thanks, Alexia. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
She shook her head, her eyes soft. “Eres más fuerte de lo que piensas, nena. Solo me alegra haber podido ayudarte a darte cuenta de eso” (You’re stronger than you think, nena. I’m just glad I could help you see that.)
We ate in comfortable silence for a while, the bond between us stronger than ever. I realized then how lucky I was to have her in my life, to have all of my teammates.
They weren’t just protecting me—they were helping me grow, helping me find my place in this new world.
FIN
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callsigns-haze · 2 months
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Lean off
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This can be read before or after Lean on, or alone! It could perfectly serve as a one-shot!
Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader
Summary: Tyler returns to visit YN and their son, Noah, after a year. Upon arriving at YN's small apartment, Tyler immediately senses tension between them. YN is cold and distant, and Tyler soon discovers the reason—she had seen him on a recent livestream, where he had flirted with his crew member, Kate, and kissed her forehead. Although Tyler insists that it was harmless, YN's hurt is evident, as it reminds her of all the times he put his storm-chasing career above their family.
Warnings: Emotional Tension, Strong Language, Alcohol Use, Sexual Content, Family Conflict, Mature Themes.
Word count: 5,162
Tyler carefully turned the key in the lock, pushing the front door open as quietly as he could. It was well past midnight, and the house was bathed in darkness, save for the dim light spilling from the kitchen. He let out a weary sigh as he slipped off his shoes, the exhaustion of the long day of chasing tornadoes weighing heavily on him. He knew he was late—much later than he’d promised—but he hoped YN was still awake, maybe reading in bed or waiting for him with a flicker of anger, but nothing that couldn’t be smoothed over with an apology and a kiss.
As he moved further into the house, Tyler paused. There was a noise coming from the kitchen, a low rustling and the sound of something heavy being set down. Frowning, he quietly placed his bag on the floor and walked towards the kitchen, his heart sinking with each step. He reached the doorway and hesitated, something in the pit of his stomach warning him that this wasn’t just a late-night snack or YN waiting up for him.
Taking a deep breath, Tyler reached out and flicked the light switch, the kitchen flooding with brightness. His heart stopped at the sight that greeted him.
YN was standing by the counter, her face set in a mixture of anger and sadness. Around her were several open suitcases, partially packed with clothes, toiletries, and other belongings. Her hands were busy stuffing a few more items into a duffel bag, her movements sharp and determined.
“YN?” Tyler’s voice was tentative, almost pleading. “What… what’s going on? Where’s Noah?”
YN didn’t look up right away, her shoulders stiffening at the sound of his voice. “My brother took Noah to his place,” she finally said, her tone cold and distant. “I’m leaving, Tyler.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him momentarily breathless. “Leaving? What do you mean you’re leaving? It’s the middle of the night.”
“I don’t care what time it is,” YN snapped, her voice rising with anger. “I’m done, Tyler. I’m done waiting up for you, wondering if you’ll come home in one piece or if you’ll even bother coming home at all!”
Tyler shook his head, trying to make sense of what was happening. “YN, please… Let’s talk about this. I know I’m late, but it was a bad chase—”
“It’s always a bad chase!” YN shouted, cutting him off. “Every single time! You’re always late, always chasing after another storm, always putting that damn job before us! I’m tired, Tyler. I’m tired of being second to your obsession!”
Tyler’s own anger started to flare up, mixing with the guilt and fear churning in his gut. “You knew what you were getting into when we got together. This is what I do, YN. This is who I am!”
“But it’s not who I want to be anymore!” YN retorted, her voice breaking with emotion. “I used to love chasing with you, I did. But then we had Noah, and everything changed. I needed you to change with me, but you didn’t. You’re still out there, risking your life, and for what? A thrill? A rush? It’s not worth it, Tyler!”
“I do it for us!” Tyler argued, his voice loud and desperate. “I do it to provide for our family, to make sure Noah has everything he needs!”
“Don’t you dare make this about us!” YN’s eyes blazed with fury as she rounded on him, her hands clenched into fists. “You do it because you can’t let go! You’re addicted to the danger, to the chase, and you won’t admit it! You’ve put that before us time and time again, and I’m done! I’m not waiting around for you to come home in a body bag!”
The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and years of built-up resentment. Tyler took a step closer, his voice softening. “YN, please… I love you. I love Noah. We can figure this out. Don’t go.”
But YN shook her head, tears now streaming down her cheeks. “It’s too late, Tyler. I can’t do this anymore. I’ve already lost you to those storms, and I’m not losing myself in the process.”
With that, she turned back to her packing, her movements hurried and desperate, as if she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Tyler stood frozen for a moment, his mind racing. He felt like he was losing everything, and he didn’t know how to stop it. Desperation clawed at him as he reached out, grabbing her arm to stop her. “Don’t leave, YN. Please.”
But YN wrenched her arm away, her eyes filled with anger and pain. “Let go of me, Tyler,” she hissed, her voice shaking. “I’m done begging you to be here. I’m done.”
In her fury, she picked up the first thing she could find—a shoe—and hurled it at him. Tyler barely had time to react, ducking as it sailed past his head and hit the wall with a dull thud.
“YN, stop!” he pleaded, but she wasn’t listening. Her hands went to her finger, yanking off her wedding rings. With a choked sob, she threw them at him, the metal bands clattering to the floor at his feet.
Tyler stared down at the rings, his heart shattering at the sight. “YN…” he whispered, his voice filled with pain. “Please don’t do this.”
But YN was already turning away, her resolve firm as she zipped up the duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m leaving, Tyler. And this time, I’m not coming back.”
With that, she walked out of the kitchen, her footsteps echoing in the silent house. Tyler didn’t follow, too stunned to move, his heart breaking as he listened to the sound of the front door closing behind her.
He was left standing there, alone in the too-bright kitchen, staring down at the rings on the floor. The reality of what had just happened crashed over him like a wave, and he sank to his knees, the weight of his mistakes finally too much to bear.
----
One Year Later
Tyler stood outside the small apartment building, his hand hovering over the door for a moment before he finally knocked. It had been a year since YN had left him, a year filled with regrets and missed opportunities. The weight of his mistakes felt heavier than ever as he stood on the doorstep, trying to muster the courage to face the woman he had let down.
The door creaked open, and there she was—YN, her expression guarded and eyes tired. She looked at him with a mixture of surprise and wariness, a wall of coldness immediately going up between them. She didn’t look like the woman he used to know, not entirely. There was a hardness to her that hadn’t been there before, something born out of a year of managing on her own.
“Tyler,” she said flatly, not bothering to hide her displeasure. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see Noah,” Tyler replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’ve missed him. I’ve missed you both.”
YN’s eyes flickered with something—maybe anger, maybe pain—but it quickly disappeared behind a mask of indifference. “He’s napping,” she said curtly, stepping aside to let him in. “You can wait inside if you want.”
Tyler walked into the small apartment, his eyes taking in the cramped space. The living room was tiny, cluttered with toys and toddler essentials, the furniture worn and mismatched. The kitchen was barely more than a corner with a small table and a few chairs, and the single bedroom door was slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of Noah’s crib.
He felt a pang of guilt as he realized just how much YN had sacrificed, how different this was from the life they had once planned together. The apartment was clean, but it was clear that money was tight and that YN was managing everything on her own.
“This place is… small,” Tyler said quietly, more to himself than to her.
“It’s all we need,” YN snapped, her tone icy. “I’m not living in some big house, Tyler. We’re fine here. We don’t need anything from you.”
The coldness in her voice cut through him like a knife. He had expected her to be angry, but this… this was something else. She wasn’t just angry—she was done with him. Tyler could see it in the way she held herself, in the way she avoided looking at him directly.
“YN, I know I messed up,” he began, trying to find the right words. “I know I haven’t been around, but I want to change that. I want to be here for Noah, to help out.”
YN crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze hard. “We’ve been fine without you, Tyler. I don’t need your help, and Noah doesn’t need a father who shows up when it’s convenient for him.”
Her words stung, and Tyler felt his defences rising. “That’s not fair, YN. I’m trying to make things right. I’m here now.”
“Too little, too late,” she shot back. “You weren’t here when it mattered, Tyler. You weren’t here when I needed you the most, and now you want to waltz back into our lives like nothing happened? It doesn’t work that way.”
Tyler swallowed hard, the guilt weighing heavy on him. “I know I screwed up, and I’m not asking for everything to be okay overnight. I just want a chance to be a father to Noah.”
At that moment, a small cry came from the bedroom, and YN turned away from him without another word. She walked down the short hallway and returned a moment later, holding a sleepy, tousled-haired Noah in her arms. The toddler blinked at Tyler with wide, curious eyes, still half-asleep but recognizing his father.
“Daddy?” Noah mumbled, reaching out a small hand towards him.
Tyler’s heart ached as he reached out to take Noah, holding him close. “Hey, buddy,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “I’ve missed you.”
YN watched them with a stony expression, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You’ve got a few minutes before I put him back down for his nap,” she said coldly. “Make the most of it.”
Tyler nodded, feeling the weight of her words. He sat down on the worn couch, bouncing Noah on his knee and listening to the boy’s sleepy babble. But all the while, he could feel YN’s eyes on him, the distance between them a tangible thing that no amount of time with Noah could bridge.
When Noah started to get drowsy again, YN walked over and took him from Tyler’s arms, cradling the boy close to her chest. “I’ll put him down now,” she said, her tone making it clear that Tyler’s time was up.
“YN, wait,” Tyler said, standing up. “I want to be here for you both. I want to help.”
YN paused in the doorway, not turning around to face him. “We don’t need you, Tyler,” she said quietly, the finality in her voice hitting him hard. “We’re doing just fine on our own.”
She walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind her, leaving Tyler standing alone in the small, silent living room. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, and Tyler knew that he had a long way to go if he ever wanted to be a part of their lives again.
But for now, all he could do was leave, the coldness of YN’s rejection echoing in his mind as he walked out of the apartment and into the night.
----
One Year Later
Tyler stood outside YN’s apartment, feeling the familiar mix of anticipation and anxiety that always accompanied these visits. It had been another year since the last time he saw Noah, and the memory of YN’s cold words still lingered in his mind. He had tried to do better since then, tried to keep in touch and be more present, but the distance between them remained. Still, he couldn’t stay away, not when Noah was involved.
He knocked on the door, and after a moment, YN opened it. Her expression was unreadable, but there was no immediate anger or coldness, which felt like a small victory. She looked a little softer, a little more tired, but still had that guarded look about her.
“Tyler,” she greeted, stepping back to let him in. “Noah’s not here. He’s with my brother for the weekend.”
Tyler’s heart sank a little at the news, but he nodded. “That’s okay. I… I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
YN gave him a small, almost reluctant smile. “I’m fine. Come in. Do you want a drink?”
“Sure,” Tyler said, stepping inside. The apartment hadn’t changed much, still small and modest, but it was clear that YN had made it as comfortable as she could. He followed her into the kitchen, where she pulled a bottle of wine from the cabinet and poured them each a glass.
Tyler sat at the small kitchen table, the wine glass cool in his hand as he took a sip. The rich, dark liquid swirled in his mouth, its warmth spreading through him. Across the table, YN sat with her own glass, the tension between them slightly eased by the familiar comfort of alcohol. The room was quiet, the only sound the soft clink of their glasses and the occasional creak of the old apartment settling around them.
They had been talking for a while, skirting around the more difficult topics, focusing instead on safer ground—how Noah was doing, the latest developments at YN’s job, the weather. But as the wine began to loosen their tongues, the conversation took on a more reflective tone.
“Do you remember the first time we did this?” Tyler asked, swirling his wine around in his glass, the liquid catching the dim light. “Drank wine together, I mean?”
YN smiled, a small, wistful expression crossing her face. “Yeah, I do. It was that night after our first tornado chase together. You brought that cheap bottle of wine, and we drank it on the tailgate of your truck, watching the stars.”
Tyler chuckled softly. “I think that was the best bottle of wine I’ve ever had. Probably because of the company.”
YN rolled her eyes, but there was a warmth in her gaze that hadn’t been there in a long time. “It was terrible wine, but… yeah, it was a good night.”
They lapsed into silence for a moment, both lost in the memory of simpler times. The night outside was calm, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions that had defined their relationship over the past few years.
“You know,” Tyler began, his voice a little quieter now, “I never wanted things to turn out like this. I never wanted to hurt you.”
YN looked down at her glass, her fingers tracing the rim. “I know, Tyler. But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. Doesn’t make it any less real.”
Tyler nodded, swallowing hard. “I just… I wish I could go back and do things differently. Be there for you and Noah the way I should have been.”
YN’s eyes met his, and for the first time that night, Tyler saw a flicker of the vulnerability she had kept hidden. “We can’t go back,” she said softly. “All we can do is deal with what’s in front of us now.”
Tyler leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the window. “And what’s in front of us now?” he asked, not sure if he really wanted to hear the answer.
YN sighed, taking another sip of her wine. “Honestly? I don’t know. We’ve been doing okay, Noah and I. It’s been hard, but we’ve managed. But every time you come back… it stirs everything up again.”
“I don’t mean to make things harder for you,” Tyler said, his voice heavy with regret. “I just… I miss him. I miss you both.”
YN’s expression softened, but there was still a guardedness there, a hesitancy that hadn’t been present in those early days when they had been inseparable. “Tyler, I know you love Noah. And I know you care about me. But caring isn’t enough. It’s not enough to show up once in a while and expect things to be okay.”
“I know,” he admitted, his voice strained. “But I’m trying. I’m trying to be better.”
YN sighed, setting her glass down on the table. “I’ve heard that before, Tyler. And maybe you are trying, but it doesn’t change the fact that we’ve both been hurt. It doesn’t change the fact that I had to pick up the pieces and make a life for Noah and me without you.”
Tyler felt a lump forming in his throat, the weight of her words pressing down on him. “I hate that I put you in that position. I hate that I wasn’t there.”
“Then why weren’t you?” she asked, the question hanging heavy in the air. It was a question that had been asked before, but somehow, this time it felt different—more urgent, more necessary.
Tyler looked down at his hands, the glass of wine now forgotten. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Chasing storms, making a name for myself… I thought it was for us. But I got lost in it, lost in the adrenaline, the excitement. And by the time I realized what I was losing, it was too late.”
YN’s gaze softened slightly, but there was still a barrier between them, one built by years of disappointment. “It was never about the storms, Tyler. It was about being a family, about being there when it mattered. And you weren’t.”
Tyler nodded, accepting the truth of her words. “I know. And I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make up for it, but I want to try.”
YN leaned back in her chair, her expression pensive. “I don’t know if you can, Tyler. But maybe… maybe we can try to figure out where to go from here. For Noah’s sake, if nothing else.”
Tyler looked at her, hope flickering in his chest. “I’d like that,” he said softly. “I really would.”
As the night wore on, the conversation drifted to lighter topics—the funny things Noah had said recently, memories of old storm chases, even a few shared laughs. The tension slowly eased, replaced by something warmer, something that felt almost like the beginnings of healing.
And then, as the wine continued to work its way through their systems, Tyler found himself leaning in, his gaze locked on YN’s. The distance between them felt like it had narrowed, if only slightly, and before he knew it, he was kissing her.
For a moment, YN didn’t pull away. For a moment, it felt like things might be okay again, like they might be able to find their way back to each other. But then, even as she kissed him back, he heard her whisper, “Tyler, this is wrong…”
But neither of them stopped, not as the kiss deepened, not as the pull of something familiar and comforting took over. They were both too tired, too worn out by the weight of the past to resist the temptation of what used to be.
“Tyler, we shouldn’t…” she murmured, but her words trailed off as he kissed her neck, her hands tangling in his hair.
Tyler's hands trembled slightly as he lifted YN onto the counter, his lips still locked with hers in a kiss that grew more urgent by the second. His mind was clouded, every rational thought drowned out by the overwhelming need to be close to her again, to feel her against him. Their kisses were deep, almost desperate, filled with the longing and tension that had been building between them for years.
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, searching for any sign that she wanted him to stop. But all he saw was the same need reflected back at him. Slowly, his hands moved to the hem of her shirt, fingers brushing against her skin as he lifted it over her head. She shivered at the contact, her breath catching in her throat as she looked up at him with wide eyes.
Tyler paused for a brief moment, taking in the sight of her—bare skin illuminated by the dim light, her chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. Then, with a sense of reverence, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her shoulder, trailing soft kisses along her collarbone. Her skin was warm, smooth, and he felt a surge of affection as he kissed his way down her arm, lingering at the crook of her elbow before moving back up to her neck.
YN let out a small, involuntary moan as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear. Encouraged, Tyler continued his exploration, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. His hands roamed over her body, tracing the curve of her waist, the dip of her back, the soft swell of her breasts. He took his time, savouring the feel of her under his fingers, the way her body responded to his touch.
With a gentle tug, he unhooked her bra, letting it fall away. He kissed down the centre of her chest, his lips warm against her bare skin. YN arched into him, her fingers threading through his hair as she tilted her head back, offering more of herself to him.
Tyler’s kisses grew hungrier, more insistent, as he worked his way lower. He kissed along the curve of her ribcage, his hands gripping her hips as he nuzzled his face against her stomach. Every inch of her skin was met with his lips, his touch both tender and possessive. It was as if he was trying to memorize the taste and feel of her, to make up for all the time they had lost.
He continued to kiss her, slowly, methodically, until he reached the waistband of her pants. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers hovering over the button, before looking up at her. YN’s eyes were half-closed, her lips parted, and she gave him the slightest nod, a silent invitation to continue.
With practiced ease, Tyler undid the button and slid her pants down, along with her underwear, leaving her completely exposed to him. He took a step back, his eyes raking over her bare form, and for a moment, all he could do was stare, his breath catching in his throat.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. It wasn’t just about the physical—though she was stunning—but about everything she represented. The love they had shared, the life they had built, and the possibility of something more, something they had both thought they had lost.
YN blushed under his gaze, a soft smile playing on her lips as she reached out for him. Tyler wasted no time in closing the distance between them, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. His hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, exploring her body with a renewed urgency.
As he kissed his way down her body again, taking his time with each tender caress, YN’s breathing became more erratic, her fingers clutching at his shoulders, his hair, anything she could reach. Tyler could feel the heat radiating off her, the tension coiling between them, and he knew she was as lost in this moment as he was.
He kissed his way down her stomach, his lips brushing over her hips, her thighs, the sensitive skin just below her navel. He wanted to take his time, to worship her the way she deserved, but the need in his own body was growing stronger, almost unbearable.
Finally, unable to resist any longer, Tyler lifted his head and met her gaze. There was something raw, almost desperate in his eyes as he leaned in close, his breath hot against her skin. “I’ve missed this,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you.”
YN didn’t respond with words; instead, she pulled him up to her, capturing his lips in a kiss that was filled with all the unspoken feelings between them. The kiss was deep, intense, a perfect reflection of the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for years.
Tyler’s hands roamed over her body, memorizing every curve, every inch of bare skin as he pressed himself against her. The world outside the small apartment faded away, leaving just the two of them, lost in the moment, lost in each other.
He kissed her again and again, each kiss more passionate than the last, until they were both breathless, their bodies tangled together on the counter. As Tyler undressed himself, his movements were hurried, desperate, as if he couldn’t stand to be separated from her for even a second.
When he finally re-joined her, their bodies came together in a way that was as familiar as it was new, a perfect blend of past and present. As they moved together, their kisses never ceased, growing more intense, more desperate, until all that was left was the pure, raw connection between them.
In that moment, nothing else mattered—not the hurt, not the anger, not the uncertainty of the future. All that existed was the two of them, their bodies intertwined, their hearts beating in sync as they found their way back to each other, one kiss at a time.
----
One year later
When Tyler returned another year later, the air in YN’s small apartment felt different. Noah was now six, and the innocent joy in his son’s voice as he packed his bag in his room was a stark contrast to the tension simmering just beneath the surface between Tyler and YN.
As YN opened the door to let Tyler in, the look on her face was anything but warm. There was a distinct coldness in her eyes, a chill that hadn’t been there during their last encounter. Tyler noticed it immediately, though he couldn’t quite place why. She stepped aside, allowing him to enter, but there was no welcoming smile, no familiar spark.
“Hey,” Tyler greeted, trying to sound casual, though his stomach was already tightening with unease. “How’ve you been?”
YN didn’t answer right away. She simply closed the door behind him and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the wall. “Noah’s in his room packing,” she said curtly, avoiding his eyes. Her voice was distant, the usual warmth completely absent.
Tyler frowned, sensing that something was off. “Is everything okay?” he asked, concern lacing his tone. He took a step toward her, but she shifted slightly, putting more distance between them.
She looked at him then, really looked at him, and he saw the storm behind her eyes. “I’m fine,” she replied, though the tightness in her voice suggested otherwise. “But you… you seem to be doing just great.”
Tyler blinked, confusion washing over him. “What do you mean?”
YN’s gaze hardened. “Saw your little livestream the other day. The one with...what's her name again? Kacey? Kylie? Oh no, Kate.”
Realization dawned on him like a punch to the gut. He’d done a live stream with his storm-chasing crew a few days ago, a casual one where they’d been chatting about their latest chase. Kate, as always, had been her cheerful self, and at one point, he’d kissed her forehead in a playful, affectionate gesture—something that had seemed harmless at the time.
But seeing YN’s expression now, he knew it hadn’t come across that way to her.
“That—” Tyler began, struggling to find the right words. “That was nothing, YN. Kate’s just a friend. We were just messing around, that’s all.”
YN’s laugh was bitter, devoid of any humour. “Yeah, just messing around. Like we used to, right? Before things got complicated.”
Tyler’s heart sank. He knew this wasn’t just about the livestream. It was about all the times he hadn’t been there, all the times he’d put his career, his crew, before her and Noah. It was about how easily he seemed to move on, while she was left picking up the pieces.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he insisted, his voice pleading now. “It was just a stupid, thoughtless thing. It doesn’t mean anything.”
YN finally looked him in the eye, and the pain there was unmistakable. “It means something to me, Tyler,” she said quietly. “It means that even after all this time, you still don’t get it. You still don’t understand what it’s like to be left behind while you’re out there, living your life without us.”
Tyler opened his mouth to argue, to tell her that she was wrong, that he did care, that he did understand. But the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, he knew she was right. He’d always been better at chasing storms than at staying put, at dealing with the realities of the life they’d once tried to build together.
The silence between them stretched out, heavy and oppressive, until finally, YN sighed and shook her head. “Noah’s excited to see you,” she said, her tone softening just a little. “He’s been looking forward to it all week. So don’t ruin this for him.”
Tyler nodded, guilt gnawing at his insides. “I won’t,” he promised, though the words felt hollow in his mouth.
YN turned away from him, as if the conversation was over, and Tyler was left standing in the middle of the small living room, feeling like an intruder in a place that had once felt like home. The sound of Noah’s cheerful humming drifted in from the other room, a stark contrast to the icy atmosphere between his parents.
Tyler couldn’t shake the feeling that, no matter how much he tried, he would never be able to make things right between them. And as he stood there, waiting for Noah to finish packing, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was losing YN all over again—this time for good.
Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!
tagging some:
@senawashere
@saviorcomplexrry
@cevansbaby-dove
@saynotononsense
@missdottie
@willowisp7
@taorislover94
@eloquenceinpurple
@86laura11
@rosiahills22
@jessicab1991
@kmc1989
@shanimallina87
@eternalsams
@teen-antisocial
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minhosbitterriver · 27 days
Text
────* ˚ ✦ CAUGHT IN THE ACT ( stray kids )
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❛ The reactions of each member of Stray Kids' Hyung line when they're caught kissing you by another member.
𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 )
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.0k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 32 mins
꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was honestly so much fun to write! Reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Getting caught kissing, established relationship for every member, let me know if I missed anything!
( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )
HYUNG LINE | MAKNAE LINE
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방찬 ── BANG CHAN.
You stepped into the familiar recording studio, the dim lights casting a soft glow on the walls adorned with musical equipment and notes scribbled in haste. A paper bag filled with snacks and drinks dangled from your hand, its weight a comforting reminder of your routine visits. Your smile radiates warmth as your eyes meet Chan's, who sat hunched over the mixing console. His gaze lifted, revealing a flicker of gratitude despite the heavy shadows of exhaustion under his eyes.
He returned your smile, a faint but genuine curve of his lips that spoke volumes about his weariness. You chose silence, understanding the unspoken need for peace in this creative sanctuary. With gentle steps, you crossed the room, your presence a soothing balm to his fatigue. Leaning down, you placed a tender kiss on his head, a simple gesture of affection that momentarily lifted the burden from his shoulders.
Reaching into the bag, you retrieved a pack of chips and a bottle, offering them to Chan with a reassuring touch. He accepted them gratefully, his fingers brushing against yours in a brief but intimate exchange. You then settled into your usual spot on the leather couch behind him, its familiar creases and scent a comfort in this shared space. With your phone in hand, you prepared to keep yourself entertained, a quiet guardian of his creative process. The studio's ambient hum and the soft rustle of snack wrappers became the soundtrack to this intimate moment, a testament to the silent support that flowed between you.
This had become your usual routine—a cherished ritual that intertwined your lives with comforting regularity. Every other day, you would find yourself here, in the sanctuary of the recording studio, offering your quiet companionship while he immersed himself in his work. Your role was not merely to be present but to eventually coax him away from his intense focus, ensuring he returned home with you for the rest he so desperately needed.
Tonight was no different. You nestled into the familiar embrace of the leather couch, your fingers idly scrolling through social media, a soft glow from your phone illuminating your face. The ambient sounds of the studio enveloped you, a symphony of creativity and dedication. The rhythmic tapping of buttons, the soft click of switches, and the occasional hum of equipment blended into a soothing background noise.
Every now and then, a sigh of frustration would escape Chan's lips, a testament to his tireless pursuit of perfection. You glanced up occasionally, observing the furrow of his brow, the determination etched in his features. His passion was palpable, filling the room with an electric energy that made your heart swell with pride and tenderness.
Despite the ambient hum and your digital distraction, you were attuned to his every move, ready to step in when the time came. The silent understanding between you both was a testament to the deep bond you shared—a bond forged in these moments of mutual support and quiet companionship. This was your routine, a beautiful dance of dedication and care, ensuring that amidst the whirlwind of his creative storm, he found a safe harbor in your presence.
Eventually, Chan wheeled around in his chair, his gaze locking onto you as you lay sprawled across the couch, indulging in a handful of sour gummies. His eyes softened, the weariness momentarily giving way to a tender appreciation for your presence. For a brief moment, he remained still, simply observing you with a small, tired smile.
Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he lifted himself from his seat, the soft creak of the chair punctuating the silence. Each step he took toward you seemed to carry the weight of his exhaustion, yet there was a lightness in his eyes as he approached. Without warning, he let his body drape over yours, the suddenness of it eliciting a startled yelp from your lips.
His warmth enveloped you, the familiar scent of his cologne mingling with the sweet tang of the gummies you were eating. You quickly dissolved into giggles at his playful actions, your arms instinctively wrapping around his torso in a protective embrace. His presence was a comforting weight, grounding you both in this shared moment of intimacy.
The world outside the studio walls faded away, leaving just the two of you cocooned in a bubble of tranquility. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours, a rhythmic reminder of his presence. Your fingers traced gentle patterns on his back, offering silent reassurance as he melted into your embrace. This was your sanctuary, a haven where exhaustion and stress gave way to love and connection, a beautifully ordinary moment made extraordinary by the simple act of being together.
“Break time?” you asked softly, your voice a gentle melody in the quiet room. Chan responded with a low grunt, his exhaustion evident in the simplicity of his reply. A light giggle escaped your lips, the sound a soft, comforting echo in the studio.
Reaching up, your fingers threaded through the strands of his hair, finding their way to the back of his head. With practiced ease, you began to scratch gently, your touch tender and soothing. Almost immediately, a contented hum rumbled from his chest, a sound that spoke of deep appreciation and relief.
His eyes fluttered closed, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away under your gentle ministrations. You could feel the subtle shifts in his posture, each exhalation a testament to the comfort he found in your presence. This simple act, a small gesture of care, held a profound intimacy that words could not capture.
The room seemed to cocoon you both, the dim light casting soft shadows that danced along the walls. Each scratch of your fingers was a lullaby, a tender reminder of the bond you shared. In this moment, amidst the ambient hum of the studio and the quiet hum of his contentment, time seemed to slow, allowing you to savor the tranquility of your connection.
His breathing deepened, a silent testament to the trust he placed in you, and you continued your gentle caress, your heart swelling with affection. This was your sanctuary, a place where words were unnecessary, and the simple act of touch spoke volumes.
After a while, you were almost surprised to hear him speak. His voice broke the silence, soft and drowsy, since you had been convinced he had fallen asleep on top of you.
His breathing had slowed, and his weight had settled comfortably against you, creating a warm, enveloping cocoon. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours had lulled you into a tranquil state, where the world outside seemed a distant memory.
“Good day today?” he murmured, his words a tender vibration against your skin. The question carried a quiet intimacy, a bridge between the waking world and the serene bubble you both inhabited.
You blinked, the unexpectedness of his voice pulling you from your reverie. A smile curled at your lips as you looked down at him, your fingers stilling momentarily in his hair. The soft light from the studio cast a gentle glow on his face, highlighting the subtle lines of fatigue that framed his eyes.
“It was alright,” you answered with a weak shrug, your eyes remaining fixed on the ceiling. The subtle patterns in the plaster seemed to shift and dance as you reveled in the closeness between the two of you, his warmth a comforting presence against your body.
As you lay there, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift, the quiet intimacy of the moment creating a sanctuary from the world outside. The soft rise and fall of his breathing against you was a soothing rhythm, grounding you in the present.
“I mostly kept to myself today,” you continued, your voice a soft murmur in the tranquil room. “It just felt like such a long day for some reason.”
Your words hung in the air, a quiet confession that carried the weariness of the hours you had endured. Each moment of solitude, each minute that had dragged on, seemed to dissipate now in the comforting embrace of his presence.
Chan shifted, adjusting his position to place his weight on his forearms, which were now on either side of your head. This allowed him to lean back slightly, creating just enough space to gaze down at your face. The closeness of his presence, combined with the tenderness in his eyes, sent a flutter through your heart.
The dim light of the studio cast gentle shadows across his features, softening the lines of exhaustion and highlighting the quiet strength in his expression. His gaze held a mixture of empathy and understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the weariness you both shared.
“It really did feel like an unnecessarily long day for me, too,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble that resonated in the small space between you. The words carried a weight of shared experience, a bond forged through mutual understanding and silent support.
His eyes traced the contours of your face, lingering on the subtle nuances of your expression. You could feel the connection between you deepening, each unspoken thought and emotion passing effortlessly between you. His proximity, the warmth of his body, and the gentle cadence of his words created a cocoon of intimacy that enveloped you both.
As you looked up at him, you could see the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, a mirror to your own feelings. The shared acknowledgment of the day's trials brought a sense of comfort, a reminder that you were not alone in your struggles.
The room seemed to fade into the background, the ambient sounds of the studio becoming a distant hum. All that mattered in this moment was the quiet exchange between you, a sanctuary of understanding and support. His presence, so close and so tender, was a balm to the fatigue that had weighed heavily on you both throughout the day.
You reached up, your fingers gently brushing against his cheek, a silent gesture of reassurance and affection. His eyes softened even further, and a small, grateful smile played at the corners of his lips. In this moment, the long day seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of your connection and the promise of shared solace.
The hand that had been tenderly scratching his hair now shifted to cup his cheek, your fingers tracing the delicate curve of his jaw. The touch was gentle, filled with a warmth that only deepened the connection between you. Chan immediately leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the contact, a soft smile gracing his lips.
His skin felt warm against your palm, and you could sense the quiet gratitude in the way he pressed closer, finding comfort in the simple gesture. The room around you seemed to hold its breath, the ambient hum of the studio fading into the background as the moment stretched between you.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Chan leaned down, his breath mingling with yours in the intimate space. His eyes met yours for a fleeting second, a silent exchange of affection and understanding, before he pressed a gentle kiss onto your forehead. The contact was tender, imbued with a sweetness that made your heart swell.
As his lips brushed your skin, your eyes fluttered closed, the world around you dissolving into a haze of warmth and closeness. The kiss lingered, a silent promise of care and support that wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. You could feel the soft exhalation of his breath, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the unspoken words that filled the space between you.
Time seemed to slow, each second stretching into an eternity of quiet connection. Your senses were heightened, every detail of the moment imprinted in your memory—the gentle pressure of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the soothing cadence of his presence. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated intimacy, a sanctuary of love and understanding that transcended the weariness of the day.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes opened slowly, meeting yours with a gaze that spoke volumes. There was a softness there, a tenderness that mirrored your own feelings, and in that shared look, you found a renewed sense of strength and comfort. The weight of the day seemed to lift, replaced by the warmth of his presence and the promise of more moments like this, filled with love and quiet understanding.
“I missed you so much,” he murmured, his voice a gentle whisper that seemed to reverberate through the quiet studio. He tucked his head into the crook of your neck, seeking solace in the warmth and familiarity of your embrace. His breath, warm and steady, brushed against your skin, sending a shiver of tenderness down your spine.
You could feel the sincerity in his words, each syllable carrying the weight of his longing and affection. The closeness of his body against yours, the way he nestled into you as if finding his way home, spoke volumes about the depth of his feelings. It was a quiet confession, one that wrapped around your heart and made it swell with love.
“All I could do was watch the time until you finally joined me here,” he continued, his voice a soft rumble that seemed to melt into the air around you. His words painted a vivid picture of his anticipation, the minutes and hours stretching out endlessly as he waited for the moment you would walk through the door.
The imagery of his longing played in your mind, each tick of the clock echoing his silent wish for your presence. You imagined him glancing at the time, his thoughts drifting to you with each passing minute, the studio filled with the hum of his work yet missing the comforting presence that only you could bring.
Your hand moved to gently stroke his hair, your fingers weaving through the soft strands as you offered silent reassurance. The tactile connection was a balm to both your souls, a physical manifestation of the love that flowed between you. His body relaxed further into yours, the tension of the day gradually melting away as he found peace in your embrace.
The room around you seemed to fade into the background, the dim light casting gentle shadows that danced along the walls. It was as if the world had shrunk to encompass only the two of you, a cocoon of intimacy where time moved at its own pace. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart against yours, created a symphony of togetherness that filled the space with warmth and connection.
As you held him, your heart echoed his sentiments. The hours apart had felt like a lifetime, each moment tinged with the anticipation of being reunited. Now, in the quiet sanctity of the studio, you reveled in the simple joy of being close, of sharing the same breath and heartbeat. This was your haven, a place where love and longing intertwined, creating a tapestry of moments that were as beautiful as they were fleeting.
A blush crept onto your cheeks, a rosy bloom spreading warmth through your skin as his words settled in your heart. Your smile widened, a reflection of the joy and affection that welled up within you. As Chan leaned back to face you once more, his eyes met yours with a gaze that spoke of longing and love.
Without hesitation, you leaned up to capture his lips in a kiss, the movement swift and eager. The initial touch was tender, a sweet brush of connection, but almost unconsciously, you found yourself deepening the kiss. The world around you seemed to blur, the boundaries of the studio fading into insignificance as you lost yourself in the moment.
Chan responded with equal passion, his lips moving against yours in a dance of fervor and intimacy. Each kiss, each caress, was a silent declaration of the emotions that words could not fully convey. The heat of the kiss ignited a spark that spread through your veins, a fiery rush of desire and affection that left you breathless.
As your lips melded together, you could feel his fingers busying themselves, threading through your hair with gentle yet deliberate movements. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, each touch a soothing balm and an electric thrill all at once. His fingertips traced patterns along your scalp, weaving through the strands of your hair in a tender, almost reverent manner.
The kiss deepened further, your senses heightening with every passing second. You could taste the lingering sweetness of his breath, feel the warmth of his skin, and hear the faint rustle of clothing as you both shifted closer. The world outside ceased to exist, the only reality the intoxicating blend of your shared breaths and the soft hum of the studio in the background.
Time seemed to stretch, each moment expanding to hold the fullness of your connection. Your heart raced, its beat a rhythmic echo of the passion that thrummed between you. The kiss was a symphony of emotions, a harmonious blend of love, desire, and an unspoken promise of togetherness.
Just as the kiss began to deepen, an unexpected sound shattered the moment—the door creaking open with an almost comical slowness. The intrusion was abrupt, and both of you were startled from your intimate cocoon. Chan, reacting instinctively, tried to detach himself from you with haste, his sudden movement sending him rolling off the couch.
The transition was less than graceful; he landed rather harshly on the floor beside you, the impact eliciting a low groan from him. He grimaced, immediately starting to rub his lower back in an attempt to soothe the jolt of pain from the fall. The couch, once a haven of warmth and affection, now stood empty and slightly disheveled, a testament to the sudden disruption.
Your eyes shifted to the doorway, where Jisung stood frozen for a split second, his own eyes wide with shock at the scene before him. The surprise in his expression was fleeting, quickly giving way to a playful smirk. His eyebrows wiggled suggestively as he leaned casually against the doorframe, his gaze dancing with mischievous amusement.
The contrast between the intense moment you had shared and the lightheartedness of Jisung's entrance was jarring. As the initial surprise subsided, the atmosphere shifted from one of intimate connection to one of awkward hilarity. The room, now filled with the soft chuckles of Jisung and the embarrassed, lingering blush on your cheeks, felt distinctly different.
You and Chan exchanged glances, your faces flushed with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. Chan’s attempt to regain composure while still rubbing his sore back added to the scene’s comedic effect. In the midst of the disruption, the warmth of the moment seemed to dissipate, replaced by the easy camaraderie of Jisung’s teasing presence.
“I can come back later,” Jisung said, his voice carrying an unmistakable hint of playful suggestion. The words lingered in the air, charged with an amused undertone that made it clear he was fully aware of the scene he had just interrupted.
You responded with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, a playful gesture that contrasted sharply with the initial embarrassment. Your smile, though slightly flushed, held a warmth of shared amusement. The gesture was both a dismissal of the teasing and a silent acknowledgment of the lighthearted banter Jisung was introducing.
Chan, still seated on the floor, let out a soft scoff, the sound a mixture of mild frustration and reluctant humor. His expression, though slightly exasperated, softened as he met Jisung’s teasing gaze. The contrast between the seriousness of the moment and the levity Jisung brought was palpable, and Chan’s reaction spoke to the blend of embarrassment and begrudging acceptance of the interruption.
“Did you need something?” Chan inquired, his voice a mixture of curiosity and residual embarrassment as he pushed himself up from the floor. With a slight wince and a careful stretch, he made his way back to his chair, resettling into the spot he had vacated moments before.
Jisung stepped into the studio, his presence marked by the purposeful stride and the iPad clutched in his hand. He took a seat in one of the empty chairs, his movements deliberate and focused, a contrast to the playful banter that had just filled the room. The iPad, held like a cherished artifact, seemed to hum with the promise of creative endeavor.
“Yeah,” Jisung began, his tone shifting from teasing to serious. The change was palpable, and the lightness that had accompanied his entrance melted away, replaced by a more earnest demeanor. He glanced down at the device in his hands, the weight of his words evident in the subtle tension of his posture.
“I just finished writing this song,” he continued, his voice laced with a hint of frustration. “I thought I might ask you for some feedback.” His gaze met Chan’s with a mix of anticipation and concern. “I’m struggling to find the melody for it, though.”
The request hung in the air, a testament to Jisung’s dedication and the challenge he faced. The room, once charged with the intimacy of your earlier exchange, now buzzed with the promise of collaboration and the earnest pursuit of creative refinement. Chan’s expression shifted to one of thoughtful consideration, his earlier amusement giving way to the focused attention that Jisung’s request deserved.
As Chan prepared to listen, the studio seemed to take on a new energy, one of shared purpose and artistic exploration. The casual comfort of the space, with its soft lighting and the scattered remnants of your earlier moment, now became a haven for the exchange of creative ideas and constructive feedback.
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이민호 ── LEE MINHO.
The only sounds that punctuated the tranquil evening were the soft clinks of ceramic and glass as they met and departed in gentle harmony. Minho's hands moved deftly in the soapy water, each dish emerging clean from the frothy embrace of the sink. He would pass the polished plates and gleaming utensils to you with practiced ease, and you would then guide them through a final rinse, the clear water cascading over them like a delicate waterfall.
This rhythmic dance of choreographed movements unfolded in a serene cocoon of silence, where each clink and splash became a soothing symphony of domestic tranquility. The dim light from the overhead fixture cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating the quiet intimacy of the moment.
You leaned closer, resting your head lightly upon Minho’s shoulder, finding solace in the gentle rise and fall of his breaths. The simple act of watching him, so absorbed in his task, filled you with a deep sense of contentment. The harmony of your shared routine seemed to weave a thread of comfort through the evening, binding you both in a quiet, unspoken connection.
Minho had prepared a sumptuous feast, each dish a testament to his culinary prowess. The table was adorned with a vibrant spread of delectable creations, each plate a masterpiece in its own right. As the meal began, the room was alive with a symphony of laughter and lively chatter, the air thick with the aroma of spices and savory delights. The members gathered around, their faces illuminated by the warm light of the overhead lamp, their voices weaving a tapestry of animated conversations.
But now, as the final morsels were savored and the last sips of wine enjoyed, a tranquil silence had settled over the room. The clamor of exuberant laughter had given way to a peaceful hush, the once-bustling table now a haven of contented quiet. The lingering scents of the meal mingled with the soft hum of satisfaction, creating an atmosphere of serene afterglow. Everyone leaned back in their chairs, basking in the lingering warmth of good food and even better company.
The plan had been simple and straightforward: you would take on the task of washing the dishes while Minho, who had diligently prepared the meal, would enjoy a well-deserved rest. Yet Minho, with his unwavering determination, had other ideas. His refusal to let you tackle the chore alone was as steadfast as it was endearing.
With a warm, insistent smile, Minho proposed that you both share the task, transforming the mundane chore into a collaborative effort. His eyes sparkled with a mix of stubbornness and affection, a look that left little room for argument. Despite your initial reluctance and the mild exasperation that accompanied it, you found yourself yielding to his gentle insistence.
The prospect of working side by side, immersed in the rhythmic clinks of plates and the soothing warmth of soapy water, began to take on a new charm. Minho’s determination to be your partner in this small yet significant task softened your resistance, allowing you to embrace the shared experience with a touch of reluctant but genuine fondness.
As Minho passed you the final cup he had washed, the delicate glass cool and smooth in your hands, he turned his attention to rinsing his own hands. The kitchen was bathed in a soft, amber glow from the overhead light, casting gentle shadows that danced across the room. He dried his hands with a kitchen towel, the fabric absorbing the last traces of moisture with a quiet efficiency.
Watching you with a tender gaze, his sharp features softened into an expression of serene affection. The contrast of his usual intensity with this gentle demeanor created a moment of profound intimacy. As you felt the lightest brush of his lips on the crown of your head, a shy smile unfurled on your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the warmth and closeness between you.
After you had finished rinsing the last cup, Minho reached out, offering you the towel he had used. The gesture, simple yet laden with care, spoke volumes of his desire to share this small, endearing ritual. His touch lingered with a quiet intimacy, as if the act of handing you the towel was another way of weaving a thread of connection into the fabric of your shared evening.
"Dinner was delicious, as always, my love," you murmured with a contented sigh, letting the kitchen towel slip from your fingers and fall gently to the floor. You moved closer, enfolding him in a tender embrace. Your arms wrapped around his lean torso, drawing him into the warmth of your affection.
Resting your chin on his chest, you tilted your head upwards to gaze at him with adoration. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek provided a soothing backdrop to your heartfelt gratitude. "Thank you," you whispered softly, your voice a tender caress against the quiet of the evening. In that moment, the simple act of holding each other spoke volumes, a silent testament to the depth of your shared love and appreciation.
A playful twinkle sparkled in his eyes as he looked at you, his smile radiating warmth and affection. His fingers, gentle and reassuring, wove through your hair with a tender touch, as if savoring the moment of closeness.
"I’m glad you enjoyed the meal," he murmured, his voice a soft caress against the quiet. The sincerity of his words was mirrored in the affectionate way he stroked your hair, his touch both soothing and intimate. In that shared, tranquil moment, his gaze and gentle gestures spoke volumes about the care and joy he found in seeing you content.
What began as a fleeting, tender kiss on your cheek had swiftly transformed into a fervent embrace of lips. The gentle touch of his lips ignited a spark, leading to a passionate kiss where your tongues engaged in their well-practiced dance, exploring and intertwining with a fluid grace.
His hands cradled your face with an exquisite tenderness, as though he feared that any more pressure might shatter the delicate connection between you. The way his fingers caressed your cheeks, with such gentle reverence, conveyed a deep sense of reverence and care. Each touch seemed to convey an unspoken promise, a silent pledge to cherish and protect the fragile beauty of the moment.
“Oh—!” A sudden, startled yelp pierced the air, shattering the intimate bubble that had enveloped you and Minho. Heads whipped around in unison to find Yongbok standing at the kitchen entrance, his expression a mix of surprise and awkward hesitation.
He lingered at the threshold, caught between the decision to either step into the room or retreat to the safety of the living room. His stance, poised mid-step with uncertainty written across his face, underscored the unexpected intrusion into what had been a moment of tender privacy.
"Ah," Minho exhaled with a playful whine, his head tilting to the side as if weighed down by exaggerated exasperation. He squeezed his eyes shut, the corners of his mouth curving into a mock frown that was both endearing and dramatic.
"I can’t seem to have a moment of solitude in here," he lamented, his tone laced with a humorous undertone. The theatrics of his gesture and the melodramatic sigh added a layer of lightheartedness to the interruption, making his feigned annoyance all the more charming.
A deep blush colored Yongbok’s cheeks as he bowed his head slightly, offering a silent apology that spoke volumes. His embarrassment was palpable, yet he moved with a purposeful grace, stepping into the kitchen with a mix of shyness and determination.
He made a beeline for the freezer, his movements quick and somewhat furtive. With a swift motion, he retrieved a brand new tub of ice cream, the cool container a stark contrast to the warmth of his cheeks. As he slipped back toward the door, his voice broke through the quiet with an embarrassed yet earnest, “Sorry!” His hasty retreat, accompanied by the muffled sound of the freezer closing, left a lingering trace of his red-faced mortification.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at the unfolding scene, the sound a soft ripple of amusement in the otherwise quiet room. Your hands gently rested on Minho’s biceps, feeling the subtle strength beneath his shirt as you turned to face him once more.
Minho was already gazing at you with a look that combined mischief and amusement, his eyes sparkling with a playful light that drew you in. The sight of his tender, yet mischievous expression made your heart flutter, an involuntary blush creeping across your cheeks. The warmth of your blush contrasted with the coolness of the evening, adding a delightful layer to the already enchanting moment.
“Should I escort everyone who doesn’t reside here out?” Minho mused aloud, his index finger tapping thoughtfully against his chin. The gesture was deliberate, a small ritual of contemplation as he considered the crowded scene around him.
He sighed softly, his gaze drifting towards you with a mix of longing and humor. “I’d really appreciate a moment of solitude with my lover,” he continued, his voice tinged with playful exasperation. The desire for privacy was clear in his words, a heartfelt wish for a brief respite from the throng of people that seemed to encircle you both.
Your cheeks flushed deeper at his remark, the warmth of your blush spreading as you playfully slapped his chest with a gentle, teasing motion. “No, I actually enjoy having them here,” you replied, your voice carrying a soft, affectionate tone.
Minho’s reaction was swift and dramatic—he pouted, a look of mock offense crossing his features. His expression was almost comically wounded, adding a layer of endearing charm to his demeanor. “You love them here, too,” he retorted, his voice tinged with a hint of playful reproach. “We don’t get many chances to spend time like this, surrounded by everyone we care about.” His words carried a mix of sincerity and affection, highlighting the rare and cherished moments of togetherness amidst the lively company.
Though Minho recognized the truth in your words, he couldn’t resist the dramatic flair of throwing his head back in an exaggerated display of exasperation. The gesture was both theatrical and endearing, a playful prelude to the amused smile that soon graced his lips as he turned back to face you.
With a gentle peck on your forehead, his affection was palpable and tender, a quiet gesture that spoke volumes. Minho then shifted slightly, subtly encouraging you to step back and make room for him to maneuver. Together, you both ventured back into the living room, where the lively banter of the other members filled the air. Their animated debate over which movie to watch created a backdrop of joyful chaos, adding a touch of familiar, comfortable noise to the evening’s unfolding scenes.
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서창빈 ── SEO CHANGBIN.
As you stepped into the familiar confines of the gym, the echo of your footsteps reverberated through the empty space. The dim lighting cast a soft glow on the rows of pristine equipment, all neatly aligned yet untouched, giving the place an almost ethereal quality. It was a sanctuary of solitude, the usual clamor replaced by a serene silence, the gym technically closed to the public. But Changbin, with his special privileges, had always been an exception.
Changbin's eyes sparkled with curiosity as he turned to you, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "What are you going to be working on today?" he inquired, his voice gentle yet brimming with enthusiasm.
You took a moment, savoring the tranquility, before taking a swift sip from your water bottle. "Today, I’ll focus on my arms and chest," you replied, your voice steady and resolute. "But I’m starting with cardio."
Changbin nodded, his expression one of approval and understanding. Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss onto your cheek, the warmth of his lips lingering like a delicate whisper. He then gently nudged you towards the treadmill, his touch both encouraging and affectionate. "Today's leg day for me," he declared with a soft chuckle, his eyes glinting with determination.
As you began your workout, the rhythmic hum of the treadmill filled the air, blending seamlessly with the soft rustle of your movements. The gym, though silent and still, seemed to come alive with the shared energy and quiet companionship, a testament to the unspoken bond you and Changbin cherished.
Just like that, you both found yourselves immersed in your own worlds, each movement and breath synchronizing with the rhythm of your workouts. The gym seemed to fade away, leaving only the steady cadence of your heartbeats and the pulsating energy of your exertion. 
Your large headphones enveloped your ears, cocooning you in a bubble of high-energy music. Each song, meticulously selected for its invigorating beat, propelled you forward, every stride on the treadmill matching the tempo of the powerful tunes. The music was your fuel, igniting your determination and driving you through each passing minute.
Meanwhile, Changbin was equally engrossed in his routine, his focus unwavering as he pushed through the burn of leg day. The clang of weights and the soft thud of his movements created a rhythm of their own, a testament to his dedication and strength. 
When the thirty minutes finally elapsed, you both reconvened, seeking each other's presence for a much-needed respite. Your breath came in shallow pants, the exertion evident in the slight sheen of sweat glistening on your skin. The treadmill had tested your endurance, leaving you flushed and glowing with the heat of your efforts.
Changbin, too, bore the marks of his intense workout. His face was flushed, and beads of perspiration trickled down his temples. He lifted his water bottle, tilting it back to down a generous portion of the cool liquid, the refreshing sensation bringing a momentary relief from the heat. 
As you caught your breath, the shared silence was comforting, a mutual understanding that needed no words. The gym, still hushed and serene, felt like a haven where both of you could push your limits and find solace in each other’s presence.
"I was watching you while you were running," Changbin remarked after wiping his mouth, his tone carrying a playful edge that made you smirk. His dark eyes sparkled with a mix of admiration and mischief as he continued, "You look so good, it’s not even remotely funny or fair."
You couldn't help but scoff, rolling your eyes at him, but the warmth in his gaze made it impossible to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. Stepping closer to your boyfriend, you felt a surge of affection. The scent of his cologne mingled with the fresh, clean aroma of the gym, creating an intimate bubble around you both.
In one swift motion, you captured his lips with yours, the kiss light and teasing. You giggled, delighting in the surprised look on his face as you pulled away before he had a chance to react. His pout was adorable, a mixture of mock annoyance and genuine desire.
Not one to be outdone, Changbin leaned down, closing the distance between you. His lips found yours again, this time more firmly, conveying a deeper passion and a hint of possessiveness. The kiss was a promise, a silent affirmation of his feelings, and you responded in kind, melting into the moment.
The gym, with its quiet solitude and dim lighting, faded into the background. All that mattered was the connection between you two, the electricity in the air as your lips met and parted. It was a stolen moment of tenderness and playfulness, a testament to the unique bond you shared.
As you should have expected, Changbin wasted no time in reaching up to cradle your face, his fingers tender yet firm against your skin. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and his intent was clear: he wanted to deepen the kiss, to lose himself in the moment with you.
The world seemed to fade away as his lips moved against yours, each touch a testament to his longing. However, before the kiss could escalate, a sudden, sharp sound shattered the tranquility. The door banged open with a loud thud, startling you both apart, your hearts pounding not just from the exertion but from the abrupt interruption.
You and Changbin turned simultaneously, eyes wide with surprise and a hint of annoyance, to find Jeongin standing by the door. His expression was a mixture of embarrassment and amusement, a sheepish smile spreading across his face as he took in the scene.
"I'm sorry," Jeongin began, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I didn't know you guys would need some time—"
He hesitated, glancing between you and Changbin, the awkwardness of the situation apparent. The silence stretched for a moment, thick with unspoken words and the remnants of the interrupted kiss.
Jeongin's smile turned a bit more genuine as he added, "I can give you five minutes to finish, though."
The jab had you cackling, the sound echoing through the gym. Changbin, however, feigned offense, playfully yelling, "Hey! I can last a hell of a lot longer than some measly five minutes!" He huffed dramatically, his pout exaggerated to drive home the point. Jeongin laughed, shaking his head slightly, amused by the spectacle.
"What are you even doing here?" Changbin asked after a beat of silence, curiosity piqued.
Jeongin cocked his head to the side, his expression almost puzzled. "You…we agreed I’d meet you here tonight to work out…" His words trailed off, the memory slowly dawning on him as he spoke.
As if struck by sudden realization, Changbin gasped theatrically, slapping his palm against his forehead. "That’s right! I’m sorry, come in." His apology was earnest, his eyes reflecting a mixture of guilt and amusement.
"Oh, I’d rather not be a third wheel, thank you very much," Jeongin teased, a playful glint in his eyes. You rolled your eyes at him, unable to suppress a smile. The banter was light-hearted, a testament to the easy camaraderie between you all.
Changbin, on the other hand, wasn't about to let his friend off the hook that easily. "Oh, no you don’t!" he called out, his voice booming through the gym. He rushed forward, grabbing Jeongin by the shirt as he attempted to leave, pulling him back into the gym with surprising strength.
Jeongin's protests were half-hearted, more amused than anything else. The scene was almost comical, the gym’s solemnity broken by your laughter and the playful antics of your friends. It was a moment of shared joy, a reminder of the bonds that held you together even in the most mundane of settings.
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황현진 ── HWANG HYUNJIN.
You whine softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as you press your hand against Hyunjin's forehead to push him away. His persistence is unwavering, though, and he keeps returning with puckered lips and mischievous eyes that sparkle with playful intent. The soft glow of the television casts a warm hue over the room, illuminating his features and accentuating the twinkle in his eyes.
For quite some time now, Hyunjin had been trying to capture your lips with his own, his attempts at stealing kisses becoming increasingly daring. Yet, your focus remained steadfast on the movie playing on the screen. The film’s storyline had finally ensnared your attention, and for once, you wanted to see it through without distractions. You couldn't help but feel a bit guilty, knowing how much Hyunjin craved these intimate moments, but the timing just didn't feel right.
Besides, the living room of the apartment he shared with his roommate, Changbin, didn’t seem like the ideal setting for such affection. The thought of indulging in romantic gestures here, even with the knowledge that Changbin was away at the gym, felt unsettling. The echo of his presence lingered in the air, and the mere idea of it dulled the allure of Hyunjin's advances. The movie provided a convenient shield, a reason to resist the pull of his playful charm, as you both sat close yet worlds apart on the couch.
"Come on," Hyunjin complained, his voice tinged with a playful whine as he pouted, his lips forming a perfect, exaggerated curve. The sight of him like this, with his bottom lip jutting out and his eyes wide with mock disappointment, sent a ripple of amusement through you. Unable to suppress a giggle, you found his expression irresistibly adorable, a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.
"Just a little bit, and then I'll leave you alone," he pleaded, his tone a mixture of enticement and surrender. His persistence was endearing, a testament to his desire for your attention and affection. You sighed theatrically, rolling your eyes with feigned exasperation at his dramatic antics, yet a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. Hyunjin's charm was a force to be reckoned with, and even in moments like these, he knew exactly how to push your buttons.
"The movie is almost done," you stated, glancing at the television screen and pointing with the remote in your hand. The film's climax was nearing, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and relief. "Once the movie is done, I'm all yours — fair?" Your words hung in the air, a promise of undivided attention once the credits rolled. 
Hyunjin huffed in playful defeat, his breath escaping in a soft, theatrical exhale. With a resigned nod, he agreed, then settled himself comfortably on the couch, laying his head on your lap while his feet dangled off the armrest. The weight of his head on your thighs felt familiar and comforting. A chuckle escaped your lips as you unpaused the movie, your fingers instinctively weaving through his long, silken hair, the strands slipping like liquid gold between your fingertips.
There was something endearing about Hyunjin's behavior, how he could be so clingy and needy despite his usual claims of not being a fan of physical affection. It amused you endlessly, this dichotomy of his personality, and you couldn't help but smile at the contrast. His presence was a delightful distraction, one that added a layer of warmth and intimacy to the moment.
As the movie continued to play, you found yourself getting drawn back into the plot, though not without the occasional commentary meant to elicit laughter from Hyunjin. Your whispered remarks and shared giggles created a cozy cocoon of companionship, the outside world fading away as you reveled in the simple pleasure of being together. Each touch, each laugh, each whispered word added another stitch to the tapestry of your shared moments, weaving a bond that felt unbreakable.
When the movie finally came to an end, you barely had a moment to register the closing credits before Hyunjin practically launched himself at you, his lithe form straddling your lap with an impish grin lighting up his face. His eyes sparkled with a playful mischief, and without warning, he began to pepper your face and neck with a flurry of kisses. Each feather-light touch sent delightful shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but giggle loudly, the sound filling the room with infectious joy.
Despite your best efforts to push him away, your attempts were half-hearted at best, your resolve weakened by the sheer delight of his affectionate onslaught. Hyunjin, ever the tease, quickly caught your wrists in his grasp, pinning them securely to his lap. His grip was firm yet gentle, and his eyes danced with laughter as he resumed his barrage of kisses. The sensation of his lips against your skin, warm and insistent, left you breathless and giddy.
You wriggled and squirmed beneath him, your laughter rising in pitch as you became a squealing, giggling mess. The room seemed to blur around you, the only clarity being the closeness of Hyunjin, the feel of his body pressed against yours, and the sound of his laughter mingling with your own. His kisses were relentless, each one a playful declaration of his affection, and no amount of squirming seemed to deter him.
In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was only you and Hyunjin, caught in a whirlwind of shared laughter and tender kisses. Your attempts at defense were futile, each wriggle and squeal only serving to encourage him further. Yet, beneath the playful struggle, there was a profound sense of happiness, a blissful contentment that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.
Lost in your own bubble of joy and affection, neither of you noticed when Changbin returned from the gym. He stood silently by the doorway, his phone poised in front of his face, capturing the endearing chaos unfolding before him. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he recorded the scene, amused by the playful display of intimacy.
It was only when you turned your head and caught sight of him that a startled yelp escaped your lips. The sound jolted Hyunjin from his revelry, his expression shifting from delight to confusion. "Hey! What are you doing? Are you filming?" you asked with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. The sudden shift in your tone finally alerted Hyunjin to his roommate’s presence.
Changbin’s boisterous laughter erupted, filling the space with a rich, hearty sound. He quickly turned off his phone and shoved it into his pocket, but not before Hyunjin had leapt from your lap, his face a mix of mock outrage and concern. “That’s an invasion of privacy!” Hyunjin declared with exaggerated drama, his voice ringing through the room.
Your laughter mingled with Changbin’s as you shot Hyunjin a teasing look. “Baby, we’re in the living room. This is not a private space for you to be saying that.” Hyunjin’s face fell into a pout, his lower lip jutting out as he glanced at you. 
“Whose side are you on, huh?” he asked, a playful edge to his tone.
Changbin, clearly entertained by the bickering, shook his head with a chuckle as he turned and made his way towards his bedroom. His amusement lingered in the air, a lighthearted reminder of the everyday warmth and camaraderie that filled the apartment. The door closed softly behind him, leaving you and Hyunjin to continue your playful exchange, the echo of laughter still dancing in the room.
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🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!
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shurisasthmaticgf · 2 months
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oh baby he down bad: charles leclerc x black fem! reader
summary: three times when you realized you truly did have your boyfriend wrapped around your finger
warnings: crying, period mention, swearing
blog moved to @delewlew
author's note: this is the first charles fic i've written so please be kind...i hope you all enjoy it. i'm sick with covid and i was loopy on meds when i wrote this so i hope it makes sense 💀 comments and other feedback are welcome and appreciated!
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whoisyn uploaded a story!
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you laid in your bed curled into fetal position with your phone mere inches from your forehead. the room was dark but light enough to see half of your face as your eyes welled with tears. you rambled, "a few weeks ago when i was visiting new york i bought a bunch of takis and nerds clusters because they don't sell them over here in monaco and i went to go get a bag of both and i didn't know i ran out! i'm so upset i don't even want to settle for anything else." you wailed loudly, mixing in a few laughs at how ridiculous you probably looked but you had no shame as you hit post.
the entire day had been going pretty shit from the moment when you woke up and bled through your favorite pajamas to nearly passing out when you wanted to have a relaxing hot shower to make you feel better. now you were just laying in bed clinging to your body pillow that had lingering notes of your boyfriend's cologne. it was early in the night but your entire body felt like it was hit by a bus and you were one tylenol away from needing a stomach flush yet it didn't actually feel like it was helping. to make things worse, all you wanted was your boyfriend but he was supposed to be going out right after he got off of work.
you laid stiff in your bed in an obscure position because you found that was the only one that didn't make you feel worse. the door to your bedroom opened and your boyfriend entered wearing pajama pants and no shirt. you squinted through the dim light and mumbled, "babe? thought you were going out tonight? you had that thing." charles placed two bags of your favorite snacks onto your nightstand and responded, "i was but i found out through twitter that my girlfriend was crying at home." you turned your face away from him out of embarrassment because you were literally crying over chips and candy. he turned your chin back to him, "why didn't you call me, mon cœur?" you shrugged and reached for the bag of candy, "it wasn't that serious." he pulled you closer to him and you shifted positions so your head was against his chest. charles pressed a kiss to your forehead, "anything that bothers you is serious to me, darling. but, i am here and you have your snacks so we can watch your movie like we always do, yes?" you nodded and turned on Princess and The Frog which was one of your comfort movies since childhood.
whoisyn posted a story!
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replies:
lilymhe WHP IS YOUE DEALER PLS 🙏
↳ whoisyn lemme ask charles
francisca.cgomes feel better bby <3
↳ whoisyn thank you so much ily ily ily ❤️
logansargeant i still have like 3 bags of hot cheetos and those nerds things for you from when you asked me to grab you some when i had a layover in new york
↳ whoisyn omg i forgot abt those! i'll get them next week if u bring em. ty ty.
alex_albon lily wanted me to ask you who your dealer is? she said you'd know what she meant
↳ whoisyn oh my bad pookie i forgot...but charles said he just has a stash of american snacks at his place for me. i'll bring her some next weekend tho dw ❤️
↳ alex_albon THANK YOU OMG I COULD KISS YOU RN - lily
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
you cut through one of the alleyways out of street view once you noticed someone had been recording you as you walked through the streets of monaco. most of the time you managed to sneak through the city without being spotted but today you had to make a trip to the mall where a handful of people recognized you immediately. as someone who was never in the public eye and lived as a "regular" person you were still getting used to people recognizing you and following you around. time and time again you'd gone viral for your fan responses when they asked for pictures or autographs, usually a laugh and "why, i'm not the famous one?" you were genuine with your interactions and were known for helping fans get autographs or deliver fan letters to charles at grand prix weekends. although you enjoyed this aspect of his fanbase, sometimes it was too much and you just wanted to live in peace like you used to. so you'd learned every back road and sidewalk to your shared apartment for quick escapes.
the alleyway was quiet and away from the few people that were walking and talking beside you. just as you were to round a corner you heard a soft meow. stopping dead in your tracks you looked around confused to where the sound was coming from. there was silence then another meow, and another, and another until you realized a small orange cat a few meters away was the culprit. the tiny kitten was shaking and wet in some fluid you only hoped was water, but by the smell it was definitely sewage, pipe, or garbage juice. you wrinkled your nose and held the helpless fur ball in your palm, "shit...what the fuck do i do?" the kitten nibbled on your thumb and you stretched your finger away, "don't do that i don't want rabes or whatever cats can carry." you looked over your shoulder and sighed, "well i guess i have a cat now... let's go."
once back in your apartment you put the small kitten in your bathroom tub on an old rag. the small animal meowed and mewed the entire time you rinsed it off with the only soap you had that was safe according to google. instead of drying it's fur with your blowdryer you just towel dried it which he continued meowing. you'd never had a cat and didn't know what it meant when kittens meowed so you just started rambling, "well that's so interesting you feel that way because i literally said the same thing too! like i don't even know why that would make sense because when you really think about it they always want you to think that but in reality the truth is the complete opposite of what they want you to believe." the orange kitten looked at you with its head turned to the side and you sighed, "i don't know what you want from me man i just met you." the cat meowed louder and you mumbled, "that was definitely a cuss word but i'll let it slide."
an hour later you had given the kitten a small amount of some canned tuna and it fell asleep curled into your neck against the towel you kept it wrapped in.
charles entered your apartment with his eyes on his phone as he called out, "i'm home- oh." he usually expected you to be in your room so when you were out in the main room on the sofa he was startled. you sipped from the smoothie you'd gotten from the fridge and looked up from the book you were reading, "hi baby." charles stared at the kitten on your chest then back at you, "hi beautiful." he waited for you to say anything about the new addition and when you didn't he prompted, "what do you have there?" you looked at your hand and held up the cup, "a smoothie." you took a long sip and the straw crackled loudly, "oh yeah i figured out how to make that one hailey bieber has at that overpriced place in LA. it's actually really good i see why people lost their shit over it."
your boyfriend nodded slowly and pointed to the kitten on you, "my love, please tell me why is there a cat on you." for a minute you looked at him as if he was making it up but then you realized you never got around to actually texting him what happened. he waited for you to explain because the story had to be good if you, notorious anti-pet owner, came home with a cat and let it sleep on you.
you told him while looking at the kitten, "yeah, you're a daddy now." charles replied with too much ease, "i know that you call me that but that cat does not." you looked up with an exasperated glare, "can you be serious for one minute please." charles chuckled and apologized, "okay okay you go, tell me why i am now both of your daddys." you raised your hand to throw one of the clean rags you hadn't used at him which he shielded his face from, "okay i'm sorry go ahead." as you retold the entire thing charles just stood there with a fond smile, finding the whole ordeal quite amusing. at the end of your story he reached for the kitten and pulled back his hand, "why is it slippery?" you answered, "i put coconut oil on it so it didn't get ashy." charles started laughing once more and you smacked his shoulder lightly, "hey i never had a pet besides a fish okay! i'm trying my best here." charles pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your lips, "and you're going to be a great cat mom too, you've already done a good thing."
whoisyn
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liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and 44,304 others
whoisyn happy birthday son to my son chisme octavius nortorious C.A.T. l/n-leclerc
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username1 WE THOUGHT IT WAS JUST CHISME LMAO WHY WOULD YOU NAME HIM ALL THAT-
whoisyn chisme bc if you pretend to gossip he'll immediately listen and start spilling tea too. octavius because charles said it sounded regal, and notorious C.A.T. for the culture.
↳ username2 LMAO YALL KINDA ATE NGL
charles_leclerc my two loves ❤️
username2 i need limited edition chisme x ferrari merch @/scuderiaferrari
↳ scuderiaferrari 👀
olliebearman i miss my brother
↳ whoisyn he misses you too <3
username3 i remember when y/n first found him, i can't believe he's a year old already :( he's so big now
username4 i thought charles said he wanted a dog
↳ whoisyn well i didn't find a dog, i found a cat. so we have a cat.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
the video had circulated on twitter only a few hours after it dropped and you'd noticed your name trending on the internet. after making the mistake of checking why you were trending once, you'd never really paid much attention to it again. the first time many people were shaming you for dating your boyfriend and making jabs at your physical appearance. rather quickly you realized it would be better to just keep up with silly memes your friends sent to you opposed to stalking every corner of the internet to see what people were saying about you.
this specific instance was charles in an interview and he'd mentioned you briefly while playing a game of this or that:
"do you prefer a weekend getaway to the coast for a snorkeling trip or the mountains for a skiing adventure?" the interviewer quizzed charles on his current vacation preferences. the driver asked, "is this by myself or with people?" the interviewer answered with a small smirk, "you and one other person- can be anyone, best friend, sibling, girlfriend, mom, etc." charles let out a laugh and knew what the interviewer was getting at and chose to went along with it for fan service. he thought for a moment then answered, "i think the snorkeling trip, my girlfriend likes this kind of thing with the fish, sea animals, and the diving in the water. that and she is better of a skier and snowboarder than me so..." out of the frame the interviewer laughed and joked, "a little mermaid moment, i love it."
you looked at the video and laughed when you noticed the small hello kitty band aid on his hand. earlier that week he'd gone with you out to the sea and you'd found a small cove to swim around in. somewhere along the way back charles had cut his hand on a rock and you'd put a little band aid on it from the only stash you had, and he had no complaints over the pink cartoon design. he found it cute and whenever he looked at it he was reminded of you.
whoisyn
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liked by charles_leclerc, sanrio, and 53, 432 others
whoisyn oh, he look so cute wrapped around my finger 🎀
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username1 SLIDES 5 AND 6-
alex_albon drop the link for the shirt
username2 CHARLES GOT THAT SHIT AWNNNN 😤😤😤
↳ comment pinned by creator
hellokitty we love to see this 🤩
↳ whoisyn omg pls sponsor me 😍
↳ sanrio check DM! ❤️
f1 i'd play mermaids there
↳ whoisyn we did 🤭
↳ landonorris WITHOUT ME? 😞
↳ danielricciardo X 2 💔
↳ georgerussell X 3 😪
↳ whoisyn my bad...next time we'll send a text
username3 oh baby he's down bad
username4 no way in hell she got this man in hello kitty pants after a long day of playing mermaids 💀
↳ username5 just say ur a loser who doesn't know how to have fun
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˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
the end.
629 notes · View notes
ladyshrike · 2 months
Text
The Four Times You Say His Full Name
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Am I any good at writing? Not really. It's all over the place in my opinion, but I had to get this thought out one way or another.
The four times you called him by his full name.
This first time you called him "Kenji" instead of a nickname, was back in LA. You were working a wedding up in Griffith Park, a beautiful little affair under the strawberry moon. It's all the witchy vibes you adore, a little wedding mixed with a baby shower, good vibes, blessings and tides. They'd offered you some food, which you wouldn't turn down as a known foodie, and that was when you got the call.
Ken had been riding home from the party in the hills and crashed his bike. He wasn't too far from Griffith, that had been the good part of taking this job, and he's been taken to Silver lake, a quick drive from the park. The couple is understanding, eventually becoming good friends with her later on, but that's a story for another time. She's racing through the streets, down the hills and to the hospital. They hadn't given you much information, just that he'd crashed and where he was. And when you get there, you ask the charge nurse for him, only to feel his arms throw themselves around your shoulders, a slightly pointed chin resting atop your head. You immediately smell the alcohol, and it's almost instant that a rage fills your chest.
"Babe! Baby! Sweetcakes~"
It takes everything, and you mean everything, not to implode then and there. You look at the nurse in front of you and take small controlled breaths.
"Is he free to go home?"
He was, having been checked over and kept under observation for two hours before they called her. According to her it's just some bad scrapes and bruises, no contusions or anything super bad, he had actually been wearing his helmet at least, just not his jacket. His bike is totaled, helmet cracked, it really is surprising that he didn't have a concussion at the very least, but through even your anger and worry, you're glad he's ok.
You drive him home, and the way there is silent. He'd sensed something was up the way you were being so cold with him, pushing his hand off your thigh, turning your head when he tried to kiss your lips, avoiding eye contact with you. And when you guys get to your shared home, and you help him in, is it the only time since the hospital that you look him in the eyes.
He sees it immediately. That rage that's practically sobering for him. The hurt. Disappointment.
It's not the only time he's ever done this, and he's not particularly tempted to tell you those two words he just knows would just set you off even if it were true.
"Mina, emergency vital check."
The floating AI robot scans him as she stands there for a moment, looking over him herself. The tension so palpable, if she chose to raise a hand at him in her frustration, she could very well slap him with it. But that wasn't her. She was the sweetest thing, practically a Disney princess, so the anger in her eyes is surprising, and new.
"He has two deep road rash injuries, and a large scrape down his side that isn't as bad as the other two. No fractures and no concussion. I suggest monitoring for any latent signs."
"Get him hooked up to a banana bag, then look up flights to Japan."
He shouldn't try to joke, or anything, but the soft scoff leaves his lips before he could stop it.
"Japan? We goin-"
"We, are not going anywhere. I'm going home to see my dad. Maybe we'll talk. Maybe we won't."
His small smile falls, a slight wince given when the IV is put in.
"Is something...is he ok?"
You shoot him a look because you know he's smart enough to understand what you were saying. You didn't want to say it, but you were done. With the empty promises, the lies, the hospital visits. You were done with it.
"Sabine-"
"Kenji, I'm done, ok? I've had it."
And there it is. He thought his parents splitting up was the worst pain, but seeing you stand at the doorway, teary eyed in anger and barely breathing steady, it shatters his heart because he can see it. You are done.
"I only ever asked you for two things. Two. And I am grateful you can at least follow one. I'll give you that, you have never cheated on me and I thank you for that. But if you constantly break this one? Constantly do this shit? How do I know that'll last?"
"H-hey, hold on-"
"No, I am done. I love you. I love your mom. You two are...the only people I consider myself close to here, but I cannot deal with this anymore. I can't deal with thinking one day I'm gonna get a call and have to identify your corpse instead of picking you up from an ER."
"It's just a couple scratches, I'm fine-"
He's done it now. He's said it.
"Forget it."
She grabs her wallet, and just her wallet. It's the only thing in her bag that she's bought herself as her bag had been a gift from him. She heads out and he tries to follow her, not able to get to her before she's speeding out of the driveway. She feels like a hypocrite, because while she isn't drunk, she is speeding like she's a NASCAR driver, and in a residential no less. She doesn't care to look at the time when she arrives at the airport, hoping to find at least one flight outbound to Japan soon. The car can stay in the parking structure for all she cares at this point, he would get a call to pick it up at the end of the month, if she decides not to come back. Her phone vibrates incessantly in her pocket for a bit, even as she's paying for the ticket she's managed to snag so last minute. Her passport is always in her wallet, so she doesn't particularly worry about how she'd get there without it. She turns her phone off, and soon enough, she's on the plane, watching LAX turn into a massive black splotch with dozens of tiny lights speckled across it in almost neat lines, as the plane departs. She's glad for the little privacy her seat offers her in first class. It's a long flight, the seats recline into a bed and everyone has their headphones on, so she isn't particularly worried that they'll hear her already quiet broken sobs.
By the end of the month, your mind is made up. You'd started accepting his calls sometime in the middle of his season. You know you shouldn't have been watching the games, it would only make the hurt worse, but it was better than ignoring him completely. And that wasn't really possible when you get notifications about him on all your social media, all which say he's in a slump and you are nowhere to be seen at his games. Everyday since you'd left, there had been a voicemail. Apologies, checking in messages, more apologies, declarations of love, and to your utmost surprise, a recording of his introduction at an AA meeting. That one particularly stuck with her. Everyday, roughly at 8 pm, a call and a voicemail with his introduction.
Maybe that was why you started taking his calls. Maybe that was why his game was getting better, back to what he usually is at. His averages get better and you, for the most part, find your anger having dissipated. By the end of the month, you're hesitantly standing in his living room as he tries to clean up the bit of clutter he had around. His shirt rides up a little and you see it. The slight scarring from the massive scrape down his side. Your lips quivers and he stops completely, dead in his tracks. He's startled by the sight of those huge wet tears that build in your eyes and his arms are around you instantly, tightly wound to prove he was ok. That he was still there. He was safe.
You cry again that night, held in his arms. He misses the game the next day. He has his thirty day chip to show you after all, and he doesn't want to leave your side to make up for lost time. He swears a promise not to do it ever again. Drink and ride he means. He isn't an alcoholic, and the AA meetings were necessary to get his license back, but he wanted her to see he regretted his decisions wholeheartedly.
The second time you said his full name was at your wedding. A year from the date he proposed to you, rather clichely you'd admit, at your monthly trip to Disneyland. The team had won a game, they were given a PR trip to Disneyland and she was an annual pass holder. She met them there, and during the cavalcade with them, he stepped off as they got to the castle, where she stood watching, and he popped the question, on one knee with a simple little ring she had spotted in a jewelry store. The team, having been in on it, cheering them on when she tearfully said yes.
Now she stands at the alter, in a gorgeous dress that fits her like a glove, his mother as her maid of Honor, and her dad as his best man because let's be honest, he thought of him as a son at this point, the way his mom thought of her as her own daughter in the time they'd all known each other, and the ceremony is relatively small, less than fifty guests, very intimate.
It's during her vows, her promises to him and vice versa that she says it. Beautifully charming smile on those lovely glossy lips of hers.
"I, Sabine Baji, take you, Kenji Sato, as my husband. Through sickness and in health, through the good times and the bad, till death do us part."
It's the sweet and short of her vows, tearfully said as her emotions run rampant. The rest of the night spent energetically celebrating.
The third time is a little more...non PG.
It's off season, he's been training here and there, enjoying some time off in their big house up in the hills. She's spending the weekend babysitting between gigs and she's been...quiet. Maybe it was the fact that she was around them so often. Maybe, it was the fact that her friends just had a little one she was watching currently, that clung to her so jealously when Kenji came around for a cuddle too. Maybe she was ovulating. The exact cause of this scenario was a blur to her really. She just recalled, well, he recalled and told her it was how it went down. Swears by it that she, as the family was driving away with the baby, fast asleep curled up in a hoodie it wouldn't let go or give back, that she looked up at him and said it.
"Kenji." It's the first time in a long time that she says his name, so he worries maybe he did something wrong again without noticing, but the look in your eyes in determined, is heated...pleading. "I want a baby."
The night didn't end for you two there. You both lost count somewhere after three, overstimulated and yet continuing like bunnies in heat. You blame the baby fever, and maybe the wine during lunch, but the venture is fruitful two months later, when four pink lines, two on each stick, and the word 'Pregnant' in bold on the digital test are laid before you two on the bathroom counter.
The same counter he would quickly have you laying against as he spread your thighs open wider, held you closer, got a little rougher with his thrusts, aiming to make the baby in you twins, according to him. Something not fruitful, unfortunately for him, but enjoyable at least.
And that takes us to the fourth and perhaps not final time you ever say his name.
Seven months later, you feel like a ship. The little peanut, you two so kindly nicknamed the baby while looking for a name, kicking around, shifting about, giving you some of the most ravenous cravings you'd ever had. Braxton Hicks, you came to be brutally informed of when waking in the middle of the night in a labor scare, had finally died off.
Or so you had thought.
When the first stab of pain shot through your side, you'd simply grimaced and sighed, shifting on the couch during the somewhat humid autumn day. You had decided to stay the Halloween weekend in, instead of going to a party while you felt like a boat. Kenji immediately notes the discomfort and tries to help.
"You want your little heart ice pack?"
You shake your head, yawning softly because yeah, it hurt, but you were too tired. You just wanted to go to sleep already.
"Ngh...no...just wanna go sleep already...come with me?"
How could he say no? He takes your hand when you ask for help getting up, and you both feel it. The sudden rush of water on your legs, his slippers. Your face is beet red and he's confused for all of two seconds before he's scrambling for the "go" bag. A Dodger duffle bag that the team's wives/significant others had decorated for them. He'd filled it with extra clothes for them, babies first outfits, washed in baby detergent, and a picture of his mom and her dad, both who couldn't be there today. You groan in annoyance because that was your favorite rug now covered in amniotic fluid, and now you would probably stain the carseats because you were not about to try and change your pants in active labor.
(Kenji had that covered, gingerly pulling your panties and pants off and helping you out new ones on, after cleaning you up with a damp towel after all. Kiss to your belly and all.)
You say it, however, sixteen hours into active labor. Minutes before midnight, almost Halloween day, like your baby wanted to share a birthday with you, which you would never mind as long as you get to hold her. It's when a particularly sharp labor pain hits that you yell it, gripping his hand so tightly you swear you hear his hand crack.
It's angry, and pained, and you swear, just after saying his full government name, that you would make him feel how this felt. No amount of epidural helped this pain, no amount of Lamaze Breathing or doulas helped prepare her or take this pain any better. She'd find a way for him to carry and birth the next one even if she'd have to become a mad scientist. She isn't good with pain already and this isn't helping.
"Kenji Sato! You are having the next one, got I-ngh!!!GOT IT?!"
He just about passed out when they announce you're crowning, because for some gods forsaken reason, he decides to look beyond the blue sheet. It's a horror he will never forget, and he swears he won't put you through another round of whatever your anatomy was doing to push yours and his little princess out of you.
And then she's there.
She's in your arms first, he's busy gathering his emotions as they cut the umbilical cord for him, and you need the first few minutes of skin to skin with her before she has to get cleaned up and given her first dose of vaccines. He holds her after, eyes bleary with tears as he does so so gingerly. He doesn't want to hurt her, doesn't want to accidentally harm her tiny little fragile body. She's a perfect amalgamation of you two. His eyes, a grayish blue, but the rest, he will happily and readily proudly admit, is all your looks. Tousled full head of soft pinky fuschia hair, eyebrows to match, rosy cheeks and little pouty lips. He swears, on everything he loves, she smiles when he is told to do skin to skin with her as well. When she curls into his warmth while you are cleaned up by the nurses. And when you two are able to take her home, when you are given the all clear and she passes her car seat test, and you three are finally back in your house, settling her down in her side sleeper by your bed, it's clear that the few times you use his full name can be bad, but most of them?
They're worth it.
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fredwkong · 9 months
Text
Taking a Trip
Arne was more than excited to visit Vancouver for the first time. Everyone said that he could have easily seen beautiful mountains on a trip to Switzerland, but Arne wanted something a little bit extra inspiring on a continent he had never seen before. His life at home had become a little monotonous at his corporate job, and the dating pool was as unpromising as ever for a shy, reclusive man in his mid-20s.
With his frugal nature, Arne balked at the hotel prices in the city, and quickly found himself looking at short-term rental sites. The prices were, if possible, even worse. Finally, he followed a link to a retro-looking gay room-sharing website and saw an ad that read: “Shared room, accessible, perfect for tourists.” The price was well within Arne’s range, and it was within walking distance of transit. He booked it without a second thought.
It was only as the taxi drove away after dropping Arne and his suitcase on the curb that he had second thoughts. He followed the instructions the owner, Julian, had sent him and went around the small house to the back, where there was an external door to the basement. All around the door were skateboards, leaning on the concrete foundation, each with a unique design painted on its underside. As he knocked, Arne felt a tremor up his spine, like an anticipation of danger.
Before he could react in any way, he heard heavy feet and voices behind the door. With a clunk of the latch, the door swung open to reveal a young man with dark, curly hair and a thin moustache with no shirt on his tanned, muscular body. “What’s up, bro? You must be Arne,” he said in a deep, slow voice, holding out a big hand that engulfed Arne’s, even though they were the same size. “I’m Julian, your host.”
Arne opened his mouth to reply, but he lost his train of thought as an eye-watering stench poured off Julian’s bare, hairy muscles. He almost seemed to steam in the cold air. The smell was a mix of stale sweat, cooking spices, musky body odour, and, over all of it, the stench of weed.
After a moment, as Arne struggled to control the cough that threatened to burst out of him, Julian seemed to realise he was bare from the hips up. “Oh, sorry, bro,” he said, lazily backing away into the basement apartment. “I was, uh, busy.” He chuckled and moved away, grabbing a stained green shirt from an equally stained couch.
Reluctantly, Arne followed Julian through the doorway, and immediately realised that it was not only Julian who stank. The smell permeated the whole space, making Arne lightheaded. He wished that he had thought to bring air freshener in his luggage.
The basement suite was small, with low ceilings. Behind the couch was a counter to delineate the tiled kitchen, while in front of the couch was a low, beat-up table with a bong and other smoking paraphernalia scattered across it. To the side, a couple of doors led to what Arne hoped were the bedrooms and bathroom.
One door banged open, and another guy stumbled out into the living room. With a beanie over his dishevelled hair and his shirt on inside out, it was clear that he had dressed hurriedly. He looked over Arne with bloodshot eyes, his movements clumsy as he pulled on a thin jacket. “Hey man,” he grunted. As the man waved, another scent washed over Arne. This time, the skunk-smell was tempered with dried cum and a tangy, earthy flavour that hit the back of his throat.
“We lost track of time. Omar was just leaving.” At Julian’s gesture, Omar brushed past Arne and out the door. Arne turned to see him grab one of the skateboards leaning against the concrete stairs before the door shut behind him.
Arne was still shaking his head in an attempt to clear out Omar’s stench when Julian grabbed his bag. “In here, dude.”
Julian led Arne back through the door Omar had burst through into a room with two twin beds, exactly as small as Arne had feared. “Obvi, I won’t have guys over while you’re here, bro,” Julian said, handing Arne a spare key. “But if you like, we can always push the beds together for extra sleeping space.” He raised a lascivious eyebrow at Arne.
Blushing furiously, Arne made several aborted gestures. “Uh, no, no, no thank you,” he muttered, his accent thickening.
“Your loss, bro.” Julian raised both his arms to show his hairy armpits, posing as his musk assaulted Arne’s nostrils. “Just tell me if you change your mind, right? If you need me, I’ll prob-ly either be here smoking and painting, or over at the skate park, smoking and skating.”
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Chuckling dumbly, Julian left the room. Moments later, while he sat on his bed and trying to work up the courage to leave, Arne’s nose was tickled by a waft of thick, numbing pot smoke.
It was just a few days, Arne reasoned. He’d be out all day anyway. He probably wouldn’t even see Julian that much, even if they did sleep in the same room. Plus, with a quick check of his bank balance, Arne knew that any alternative sleeping arrangements would be utterly impossible.
Arne forced himself to stay out late that night, exploring Davie Street, but his jet-lagged brain forced him back to the basement suite by midnight. Disheartened at the sight of a light on in the tiny ground-level window, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.
Julian was painting a skateboard in the living room, a half-smoked blunt in one hand. Not even the acrid smell of the paints and lacquer could overpower the stench of weed and musk in the tiny space. “Evenin’, bro,” Julian slurred as Arne blinked his eyes and tried to adjust to the thick, musky atmosphere. “Hey, come sit with me.”
“I have to go to sleep,” Arne protested, even as he walked to the spare seat on the couch and lowered himself into it. He remembered that he had resolved earlier not to touch the couch, since it was covered in who knew what kind of stains, but it was already done.
“No worries, this’ll help you sleep, bro,” Julian said, waving away Arne’s excuse with his blunt and then taking a deep pull off of it. He blew a stream of smoke into Arne’s face.
Arne spluttered. “Wh-what the hell!” He’d smoked a few times, but he was hardly a stoner. He could already feel a contact high working its way through his system, loosening his muscles and overwhelming him with sleepiness. For some reason, it also left his body feeling strangely tight.
“What design should I put on this board?” As he spoke, Julian leaned back on the couch and laid his arm across the back. Through the haze in his mind, Arne realised Julian was shirtless again, with musky sweat dripping down his sides from the bushes in his armpits.
Julian was still talking, something about dragons and complementary colours, and Arne just nodded along, too fixated on Julian’s body to care. He had never liked smelly guys, but something about Julian had Arne’s cock flooding his boxers with precum.
As Julian took another hit off his blunt, Arne realised that he could smell the salty tang of his precum in the air. Looking down, he could see a slick, spreading stain on his jeans. How long had he been sitting here? He thought that he should be embarrassed, but working up shame seemed like so much effort. He was so relaxed, sitting here on the couch, breathing in Julian’s sexy musk and clouds of pot smoke.
The rest of the night was a blur. Arne was so tired. He vaguely remembered Julian’s face looming over his, dripping sweat into Arne’s mouth. At some point, Arne thought he must have taken his shirt off because he got so warm and sweaty sitting on the couch. Finally, they had moved to the bedroom, where Julian had kept talking while Arne tried to calm his dripping cock enough to fall asleep.
Arne woke up slowly the next morning, cocooned in the scent of musk and weed. He started to roll over, but realised suddenly that there was a pair of sweaty arms around his chest. One of Julian’s fingers brushed across Arne’s bare nipple, and he moaned uncontrollably as a spark of pleasure shot to his slick, precum-smelling crotch.
His face burning with embarrassment, Arne carefully extricated himself from Julian’s bed and stumbled to the bathroom. He wondered why his body felt strange and top-heavy until he switched on the light. In the mirror, he saw a pair of massive pecs on top of his slender torso, the big nipples erect and pink.
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Despite his horror, Arne still found himself feeling oddly horny. Looking further down, he saw an unfamiliar, half-hard cock between his bare legs—he had slept naked!—still leaking thick, clear precum that gathered in big drops before falling to the floor.
There was something seriously wrong with this apartment, and with Julian. Arne struggled to think, but the scent of his precum was quickly filling the little bathroom, making his head foggy. He had to…He had to…He had to touch his fat man tits.
Arne watched in the mirror as he popped his sweaty pecs, and then grabbed them with one hand. Not only were they real, they bounced hypnotically as he kneaded at the muscle. A finger brushed over his pert nipple, and Arne moaned again. His voice sounded strange. A little bit too deep, and slower than he was used to.
Would he feel even better if he pinched his nipple? As Arne went to grab his opposite nip, he struggled to remember what he had been thinking about. It had been something way more important than his bouncing pecs…
The thoughts dissolved as Arne started to tug on his sensitive nipple. He moaned loudly, his legs buckling as jolts of pleasure engulfed his body. The trickle of precum from his cock grew into a continuous stream as he knelt on the bathroom floor, mindlessly tugging on his pecs.
Arne barely noticed the bathroom door open until a pair of strong arms grabbed him under his shoulders and started to haul him to his feet. “No cumming yet, bro,” said Julian’s relaxed drawl next to his ear. “You’re not nearly done yet.”
By the time Julian handed Arne a plate of poptarts, Arne’s horniness had mostly faded back to a low hum, which spiked at the scent of Julian’s unwashed armpits. Arne wondered if he should feel embarrassed to be sat, naked, on Julian’s couch, his insistent cock still slowly leaking tangy precum onto the seat.
“Yesterday was a lot for you, huh bro?” Julian said through a mouthful of poptart. “I bet you just wanna stay here and hang out with me all day.”
Arne frowned. He was supposed to go to the suspension bridge today…No, that sounded like a lot of work. He’d much rather hang out with Julian. He had no idea why he’d thought Julian was gross or uncool. His smell was utterly intoxicating.
“What were you planning to do today?” Arne asked, after he’d eaten a few bites.
Julian shrugged, shedding runnels of sweat from his pits. “I was gonna go to the skate park and hang with some bros, but you need me more, bro.”
“What do you mean?” Arne was independent! He didn’t need Julian around! But it did feel nice to have someone hot and manly like Julian looking out for him, he realised.
“You can’t be left alone right now, bro.” Julian had finished his breakfast, and started to set up the bong on the coffee table. “So we’re gonna hang out, I’m gonna smoke, and then you’re gonna help me with some boards.”
Before long, Arne was floating comfortably, a little stoned from how much smoke billowed out of Julian’s sexy mouth. Julian got to work painting a skateboard, but after a few minutes he turned to look at Arne, a strange smile on his face.
“Come over and help me, bro.”
When Arne slid down to the floor next to Julian, his host raised one tanned, muscular arm. “I’m so sweaty, bro,” Julian said. Arne agreed, watching a rivulet of sweat emerge from the dark hair in Julian’s armpit, adding to the heady musk in the room. “If you could just, like, lick it up for me, I’ll be able to focus so much better.”
Arne frowned. That didn’t seem like it would help at all. But before he could protest, he felt a strong hand on the back of his head, and Julian was pushing him into his musky armpit.
The smell overpowered any of his protests. Julian’s musk was baked into his skin, and taking it straight from the source was far more intense than smelling him at range. The smell of sweat filled Arne’s mind, and he started to lick and suck at Julian’s armpit hair without realising it. The rank taste filled his mouth and trickled down his throat, and Arne felt his leaky cock start to flow again. He couldn’t imagine anything hotter than this. As Julian kept painting, he moaned whenever Arne’s tongue pushed against an especially sensitive spot.
As he laved his tongue over Julian’s tight belly button a while later—time didn’t really matter—Arne started to feel itchy all over his body. As he ran a hand over his arms, he felt the resistance of thick hair. All over his body, Arne felt long hair growing. Before long, his precum didn’t even fall onto the skin of his hairy thighs, it just got lost in the hair.
With his new fur, Arne found himself sweating at least as much as Julian in the heat of the little room. When Julian took a break from painting to grab some lunch, Arne noticed a new smell filling the air. He was emitting his own flavour of musk now, like Julian’s, but with a bit more of a richness to it from the precum dripping between his legs. He couldn’t help but give his armpits a sniff, licking up what he could reach of his own taste.
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Julian returned and grinned at Arne. “Damn, bro, you’re almost ready.”
“What?” Arne looked up at Julian. It felt like he was seeing through a thick haze. It was so hard to think. He had to get outside and get some fresh air. But where were his clothes?
Julian held out a brownie for Arne. “Here, bro, this’ll help that brain of yours along. It’s my special blend.” He winked a dark eye, and Arne obediently took a bite of the brownie from Julian’s hand.
While Julian got back to his painting, Arne felt himself feeling slowly, but insistently, hornier. From licking up the sweat at the top of Julian’s back, he moved lower and lower, until he was licking at the very top of Julian’s musky asscrack. His cock felt iron-hard and huge against his thigh, a continuous stream of precum trickling into his sweaty leg hair.
Julian groaned. “Oh, bro, if you’re gonna get in there, let’s do it for real.” Putting the freshly finished board aside, Julian rose to his feet and pulled Arne up as well.
Arne felt so tall. The floor was so far away. All he could see was his hairy belly and thick, drippy cock as he followed Julian through the door to the bedroom. Then, all he could see was Julian, lying on his back with his legs hooked over Arne’s hairy shoulders. At last, Arne was back in a place that made sense, looking into Julian’s asscrack, licking up the musky sweat on his firm cheeks.
As his tongue dove into Julian’s hole, Arne remembered the first time they had skateboarded together. With his natural musk, it was hard for Arne to make friends with other skaters, but Julian had skated right up to him and invited him back to his place.
As he lined his cock up with Julian and rubbed his copious precum over the shaft, Arne remembered growing up in Vancouver. Dealing weed had been fun before legalisation, but now his job at the dispensary was pretty easy. Arne spent most of his time perfecting his skating tricks or smoking up with Julian or their other musky skater friends.
As he thrust against Julian’s prostate and felt the smaller man begin to tighten around him and cum, Arne remembered how much he loved his buddies. He was the big guy of the group, with his big, hairy muscles and fat, leaky cock. He wasn’t much of a thinker, but he’d do anything for Julian and his bros.
With that thought, Arne felt his balls tighten against him as he unloaded a huge, creamy load in Julian’s ass. As he shuddered, collapsing on top of his bro, there was a knock at the door.
“Fuuuuuck, that’s my next guest,” Julian groaned, whining a little as Arne pulled out. In addition to selling custom skateboards, Julian made extra cash by renting part of his room to gay tourists. Arne loved Julian’s musky, pot-smelling basement, so he thought that sharing the space a bit more was a great idea.
Julian pulled a pair of relatively clean sweatpants up his legs and wiped the worst of his cum off his chest with one of the shirts on the floor. “Just grab some clothes, bro,” he said over his shoulder as he shut the door behind himself.
As he pulled on his XL sweatpants and grabbed his hoodie, Arne listened to Julian introducing himself to this new guy. “What’s up, bro? You must be Yadu. I’m Julian, your host.” The spiel sounded strangely familiar. Careful to leave the hoodie unzipped so he wouldn’t stimulate his oversensitive nipples, and careless of Julian's cum slowly drying in his chest hair, Arne crammed a beanie over his hair and stepped into the living room.
A shrimpy African guy was looking in horror at the room, a small suitcase hanging from his weedy arm. Arne waved at him, and the guy looked like he was about to gag as a wave of Arne’s thick, precummy musk washed over him.
“Sorry, bro, we lost track of time.” Julian was pulling on a shirt in the kitchen. “Arne was just leaving.”
Nodding to Julian, Arne brushed past Yadu and headed out the door, grabbing his skateboard from where it was leaning against the wall. He had to go meet up with Omar at the skate park anyway.
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This story is a belated holiday gift for @rakurairagnarok! Here's to a very sexy, transformative new year, my friend ;)
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writerslittlelibrary · 5 months
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Mob!Natasha x daughter!reader headcannons
masterlist
a/n: I figured writing some headcanons was a bit less pressuring, and I enjoyed this so much! I’ll definitely be writing more headcanons in the future :)
You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work
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Mob!Natasha who found you when you were just a baby. She heard crying coming out of the closet after she had just killed her target. Turns out, he had already found his next victim, you. Luckily, Natasha was just in time to save you from that horrible life and raised you herself
Mob!Natasha who raised you in the safety of her Russian home. Protected, hidden, and far away from the dangers of the world
Mob!Natasha who only allowed Melina, Alexei, and Yelena to see and know about you the first 5 years of your life
Mob!Natasha who started training you for active combat the moment you could stand, wanting you to be able to protect yourself, should you ever end up being mixed into one of her ‘jobs’
Mob!Natasha who loves you more than anything in the world, getting you whatever you want whenever you want it, yet still making sure you’re not becoming a spoiled brat
Mob!Natasha who puts her trusted bodyguard, Bucky Barnes, on any and every outing you go on. You leave the house for a walk? You better count on the fact that Bucky is coming. You want to go shopping? Don’t worry, Bucky will simply come to help you carry your bags. You want to have dinner with someone? Bucky will simply sit a few tables away from you, giving you privacy yet keeping a close eye on you
Mob!Natasha who is terrified when your existence becomes known after you and her are spotted going for a little shopping trip. She will upgrade her security everywhere, putting multiple bodyguards by your side every time you leave the house. Of course, she still trusts that Bucky is the best at keeping you safe, but just to be sure, you get a few more of her men
Mob!Natasha who sometimes allows you to sit in on her meetings, letting you sit next to her, or on the ground, whichever you prefer. It’s not like any of the people she is meeting with can say anything. That is if they want to keep their lives of course. Sometimes, if you forgot to bring something she will slide you her notepad for you to doodle on, or she’ll just stop the entire meeting and order one of her men to fetch you whatever you wish. She gets to decided how her meetings go, of course
Mob!Natasha who knows you adore her henchwomen more than anything. Your personal favourite is Natasha’s assistant, Maria. You know her and your mom have some more going on. You are not blind to the lingering touches and the sneaky looks they send each other. Of course, you are a big fan of Carol. She is just so cool and nice to you, even though she can kill someone with basically a glare. To you, she is the sweetest human on the planet
Mob!Natasha who knows you adore your aunt Yelena more than anyone on the planet. Because of that, she makes sure Yelena gets the opportunity to visit more than enough. Everytime Natasha has to leave for a slightly bigger ‘job’ she simply calls Yelena to keep you company. Natasha knows you don’t need a babysitter anymore, but she likes the idea of you not having to be lonely. Besides, it is much safer for you to be accompanied by your aunt Yelena
Mob!Natasha who knows how much you adore playing board and cards games, so she told her people to never deny you a game, were you to ask. Luckily, you mostly gravitate towards Carol and her girlfriend Valkyrie, and who were they to deny you a game? They loved your company, and they loved playing your card games with you
Mob!Natasha who, when you start dating someone, runs thousands of background checks, does hundreds of checkups throughout the day, and makes sure to give whoever you decided to date a little talk, letting them know exactly what’s waiting for them were they ever to hurt you
Mob!Natasha who had the best private tutors coming to your home to teach you everything you needed to know, giving you the highest level of eduction you’d ever need
Mob!Natasha who knows that you are financially set for life, but who still allows you to go to college if you would ever want to. Of course it would be an expensive, high security private school, but still
Mob!Natasha who takes you on the multiple holiday trips during the year. You want to go to Spain? Pack your bag because Natasha will have planned a trip next week. Obviously you both will simply take her private jet, but she needs a week to book some fancy holiday home for you two to stay at
Mob!Natasha who, despite her fortune, often books small, low budget holiday trips. Everyone knows those small holiday homes are the best and the cosiest. What kind of mother would Natasha be if she didn’t give you that experience?
Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216
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bouncybongfairy · 1 year
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Late Night At Fazbear's
Mike Schmidt x Fem Reader
Summary: Mike is an ex-coworker with whom you have a situationship with. Knowing about your interest in arcade games, he invites you to visit him at an abandoned pizzeria to check it out. Things get a little heated before you get a chance to look around.
Word Count: 2.5k+
(!This is a smut fanfic, you’ve been warned!)
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
You were working on some last-minute statistics homework after you got out of the shower. It was a Friday night and even though you got an offer from your friend group to go out, you decided to stay home. Going to house party after party was getting annoying. Half the time, the only people there were drunk frat boys trying to get some before their whiskey dick kicked in. Being a wing girl for your friends was fun the first thirty times but now you’d rather stay home. Things in your life seemed so stagnant, it was like all you did was school, work, then bumming it at home. Like you were some uncharismatic dad in a sitcom. Suddenly your phone goes off, which breaks you out of the trance you were in. When you answered, you immediately recognized the voice to be Mike from the pizza place you guys used to work at together. You thought it was kinda weird that he was calling you so randomly but you did talk often when working together. For reasons that still are unclear, you answered.
“Hey! Sorry I know this is- it’s kinda random but can you talk for a second?” his voice spoke over the receiver. 
“Yeah, I’m just hanging out at home. What’s up?” you asked, now standing up to pace around your room. 
“Oh cool cool, so kinda weird to explain but bear with me here. Remember how you were super obsessed with the old arcade games we had in the back of the pizza shop? Anyway, I got this new job at an old pizzeria and there’s a bunch of old games and animatronics. I was thinking while I’m working the graveyard shift you could maybe swing by for an hour or two and check it out with me?” His voice was so sweet and soft-spoken that you couldn’t help but blush over the phone. You coiled your finger around the wire of the landline. 
“Umm, yeah that sounds kinda fun actually, when are you there till?” you asked with a hint of a smirk on your face. 
“My shift starts at 12 am and ends at 6 am, no pressure. Obviously, I’ll be here all night,” he laughed.
“Yeah, I’ll call you right before I leave okay?” you asked softly. 
“Yeah that’s perfect, I’ll see you then,” he said. 
You put the phone back on its hook and check the time on your alarm clock. To your dismay, you’d been studying for two hours and it was 10:50. Luckily you’d already showered but that wasn’t the problem. Internally, you were going through a moral dilemma. Part of you was telling yourself that he was just a coworker that got attached and another part, wanted to do your hair and make-up and hair before going. Making sure that every strand sat just right as if he’d somehow notice. To make sure your eyelashes have the exact amount of mascara they need to be long but not clumpy. If you thought all these things, wouldn’t that mean you do care what he thinks of you? Although you were bubbling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation, you managed to finish getting ready. You start packing your bag, pacing around looking for all your items. Car keys, pocket knife, compact, body spray, and your wallet. As you went to take the cartoon of cigarettes from your bedside table, you thought about taking the joint that was rolled. Sitting on your knees in front of your nightstand, you start dialing Mike’s number to let him know you are on the way. After shoving all the contents into the bag, you make your way outside and start your Mazda. You were sitting in the car for a few moments, thinking about if you were really going. 
Once you pulled into the parking lot, thoughts of regret started to bubble in your brain. You would have turned around if it weren’t for Mike’s car being in the parking lot. You checked the time on the radio and saw that it was only 12:57, was it weird that you were there so early? You were slightly worried that it would look desperate. Deciding to let that unneeded anxiety go, you get out of the car and lock your doors. Take a moment to take in the outside of the building. It appeared to be severely unkempt, brown vines covered most of the building. Due to the unsettling vibe of the building, the bear that was supposed to look cute and inviting was the exact opposite. Creating an ominous feeling as it waved at you. The walls were mostly a dull yellow color with red and blue accents and a black and white checkered line across the middle. One of the R’s of the sign was out, only adding to the sketchy feeling. You knocked on the big metal doors, wiping your knuckles off on your jeans. When Mike swung the door open, it made you jump and gasp. This caused him to break out into a fit of laughter. You playfully pushed his shoulder back. 
He took you back to the small room where he was monitoring all the security footage. The room was more creepy than the outside of the building. You sat down on the desk and Mike plopped down on his office chair. He was completely slouched back, wearing a gray thermal and a dark hooded sweater. His hair was more curly than shaggy and he had a five o’clock shadow. You set your purse on the desk and stood up, looking at the security cameras. One of the first things you noticed was the group of animatronics that were standing on the stage together. It was then that you realized what you really had gotten yourself into. 
He was surprised that you even came, yes you guys had become close while working together but he didn’t think it would lead to anything after. You were currently facing away from him, and he couldn’t help but admire you as you did so. He liked the fact that you were so well put together. Your jeans were fitted perfectly and your thong peaked out slightly from the top of your waistband. When you entered the small room, the entire space began to smell like apple-scented perfume. The white long sleeve was also very fitted, which brought attention to your figure. You turned around once you noticed it had been silent for a while. Grabbing your purse, you pull out the cartoon of cigs. Bringing the lighter to it and taking a drag to light it. After taking a couple of puffs you pass it to Mike who leans forward with a groan. As he took his hit, a piece of ash fell onto his pants. You leaned down and brushed it off his knee. 
“So much for cutting back right?” he asked rhetorically. 
“Oh yeah, I did switch to Spirits though. My grandma swore by these,” you said taking it back. 
“Do you smoke weed?” he asked, you laughed and started digging through your bag and pulled out the Altoids container, grabbing the joint. 
“Will you get in trouble? For like, smoking on the job?” you asked. 
“Oh no, this place is abandoned. There’s usually nobody in and out of here that would notice,” he said. 
You lit the joint and took a deep drag, blowing the smoke at his face playfully. He laughed as he took the joint into his hands and inhaled. You put the cig out on the glass ashtray that sat on the desk. He commented on how good the flower tasted which made you relieved knowing he didn’t think it was reggie. You guys started talking about memories of working together. You guys would always take smoke breaks together and go to lunch every once and a while. Mike actually listened to what you had to say. He wasn’t the type of person that constantly changed to a conversation with himself. A lot of guys you spoke with were usually just telling you whatever you wanted to hear. Everything you had to say was so fascinating and impressive because they were just trying to butter you up. Mike would actually give his opinions on things and would tell you if he thought what you were saying was stupid. It was refreshing, to be honest, to have an interaction with the opposite sex without them drooling on you. You glanced over at Mike, maybe it was the weed but something felt different now. The way his legs were spread so widely made something in you feel hot. Eyes were now bloodshot, making the hazel color stand out even more than before. When he reached for the joint again, his hand brushed over yours. This made you make eye contact with him but then break away once the awkwardness set in. You looked down and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. 
“Are you still with Jackson?” he asked.
“What? Oh yeah, we broke up a while ago,” you said, rubbing your arm.
“Well, what happened? I mean… If you don’t mind me asking,” he said. 
“No it’s- he just..” you took a deep inhale and spoke as the smoke poured out of your mouth, “he was really aggressive like, not just with his words. Not saying he beat me or anything but some things are meant to be more sweet and gentle. Sorry, I don’t know why I'm telling you this,” you said, passing it back. 
“No, I’m the one who brought it up. He always was a little misogynistic when we talked, I’m sorry you were subjected to that,” he said. You were sitting on the desk, you kicked off your sandals and gently swung your legs back and forth. 
“Yeah, I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” you sighed.
“For sure, you could do so much better than that,” he said. 
“Oh yeah? When you say better what do you mean by that?” you asked, leaning over to grab the joint. 
“Like if you said he was overly aggressive then you’ll find someone that is more gentle and shit,” he said, chuckling a little. 
“Oh, I see,” you moved your foot so that it was resting on his inner thigh before continuing, “Maybe you could show me?” you asked flirtatiously, he looked up and looked at you with a shocked expression. 
You used your leg to roll him closer to where you were sitting. He was now smirking, looking up at you. He let his hands slide up both your outer thighs. He pulled you off the desk so that you were now sitting in his lap facing him. You still had the joint in your hand, you took a hit before letting it sit on the ashtray. Your noses were touching and you were relieved to see that his breath was as fast as yours. Running your fingers through his hair, forcing his head to tilt back a little. You ran your bottom lip across his, arching your back and pressing your crotches together. He picked you up which caused you to wrap your legs around his waist. He set you on the desk again so that he was standing, hovering over you. You reached your hands down between your bodies, trying to unbuckle his belt. He stopped the kiss and chuckled at your eagerness and helped you. As you unzipped his jeans, one of his arms reached behind you and undid the clasps of your bra. The way he unhooked it with one hand made you throb. He pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in nothing but jeans. He still had his jeans on but now that his pants were undone, you could feel how hard he was through his boxers. It was like the heat coming off his dick was making your stomach feel warm and tight. Before he buried his face into your chest, the look on his face was almost primal. Like it was taking everything he had to keep his hands off of you. He took one of your breasts into his mouth and sucked, biting down every once in a while. He reached into his backpack that was sitting on the desk and pulled out a condom. He was breathing heavily and a couple of drips of sweat were beading down his forehead. As you unzipped your jeans you looked over at the security camera and thought you saw one of the animatronics move from the stage. You pulled away for a second to show him,
“Mike, I know we smoked and everything. Oh my god, I know this is going to be crazy but I swear I just saw one of those… things moved,” you said as he trailed kisses up your shoulder. 
“This is my third day here and I think that all the time. It’s just your head playing tricks on us because of how creepy they look,” he said, then tearing the foil package open. 
“Are you sure because I could have..” you started but then were interrupted by Mike throwing the still-packaged condom onto the desk and pressing a button that made both doors close around you. He then got down on his knees and gripped the top of your jeans, pulling them down. Instead of trying to pull your panties off of you, he simply pulls them to the side. Sticking his tongue in between your folds, massaging your clit. You had been in a dry spell since you broke up with Jackson and even then, he would never go down on you. The feeling of his mouth pressed against you was so euphoric, the moans that came out of your mouth were completely natural and unrehearsed. His pace was slow but he kept a steady rhythm which helped you chase to your climax. Instead of pulling at his hair, you cupped his face, gently stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up and made direct eye contact with you. His eyebrows were furrowed but when he saw the look on your face, his eyes closed and he groaned loudly. He grabbed your ankles and pushed your legs back so that your feet were now on the desk. You grabbed two fistfuls of hair and threw your head back, moaning loudly. The pressure of the top of your thighs being pressed into your lower stomach. Crying out as you cum, the moans came out strangled. As you started to come down from the wave of ecstasy, you began to feel insecure about how fast he made you cum. 
“God you are so fucking hot, like seriously I almost came in my boxers,” he said standing up and grabbing the condom. His lips were parted and his mouth was still covered in saliva. Without wiping his mouth, he slid the rubber onto his shaft. 
“Sorry, do you want to keep going?” he asked, you didn’t verbally respond. Instead, you grabbed him by his shirt and smashed your mouth into his. He moaned the word ‘fuck’ into your mouth before continuing kissing. He broke away to look down and line himself up with your entrance. You were still wet and swollen from the previous orgasm, enabling him to slide in with you easily. He dropped his forehead down on your shoulder, mouth open and moaning as he slowly started rocking back and forth into you. You scooted your ass down so that you could fully be pressed against his hips. The desk was continuously banging up against the wall. Your foreheads were now pressed together groaning and growling into each other’s mouth. Everything suddenly came to a halt when everything went dark. You both jump and start looking for any articles of clothing that are nearby. The big metal doors on both sides of you slam open so loud, that your ears start ringing. 
“What the fuck just happened!” you exclaim.
“The battery died,” he realizes. 
“Well has that ever happened while you’re working?” you asked.
“No,” he stated. 
“Holy fuck, do you hear that fucking music?” you whispered. 
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wileys-russo · 7 months
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spoiled rotten (2) II a.putellas x reader
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spoiled rotten sequel, had a buuunch of asks with some more ideas so decided to compile them into a little p2! not proof read cause ya gal is exhausted so apologies for any typos spoiled rotten (2) II a.putellas x reader
"i'm home!" you yelled out, closing the door after you and hearing voices call out from the bedroom as you left your keys and bag on the counter and ventured off to find the source of them.
"oh my..." you trailed off as you rounded the corner and found yourself stood in the doorway of the spare room, eyes widening at the sight in front of you.
"yay you're back!" layla leapt off the floor and raced over, hugging your leg tightly as you ran a hand through her hair but continued to stare with a mix of surprise and horror at the room.
"you've both been...busy?" you exhaled as layla let go of you and returned to alexia's side, dropping to the floor and crossing her legs. "we're building my castle! tia said it can live in here all the time for whenever i come visit." layla chirped as you hummed.
"amor i thought we said we weren't building the castle, or at least you'd call mapi." you caught your girlfriends eye as she held out her hand and your niece slapped a screwdriver into it, a small pile of tools sat beside her making you roll your eyes.
"why? i can do it bebita its fine!" alexia waved you off and you shook your head, judging by the sheer amount of pieces littered around the room and the blondes track record of following instructions you were in for a long night.
"hey lay when did you and tia start building?" you questioned as your girlfriends face paled just slightly. "mmm an hour ago! tia's kinda slow, sorry tia." layla patted alexia's knee sympathetically making you snicker.
"and how much work has been completed in that hour amor?" you questioned with a smile, alexia rolling her eyes and ignoring you. "we put all the pieces out so we could find them!" layla chipped in as alexia sighed and you chuckled.
"lay, babe i'm really sorry but the castle is gonna have to wait. tia alexia is...challenged at building things. but i'll call mapi and she can come over tomorrow to build it." you promised as layla cheered and alexia scoffed.
"challenged!" your girlfriend hurried to her feet and followed you out of the room as you glanced at her with amusement. "yes, that was the nicest way i could think of putting it baby." you grinned, pulling yourself to sit on the edge of the counter.
"i am not challenged!" alexia protested, arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face which made your grin widen. "of course not amor you are perfect, so perfect at everything." you cooed sarcastically, pinching her cheeks and shaking her head lightly.
"but not building." you booped her nose as she swatted your hand away and huffed. "sé construir cosas y construiré ese castillo." your girlfriend warned, slotting between your legs and glaring at you as you simply smiled and pressed your forehead against yours.
"i'll have your mami on speed dial then, so she can bring over some food for me to use to coax you out of the bathroom again." you pouted as alexia scoffed again, opening and closing her mouth.
"no no, don't argue mi amor. we both know it happened!" you cupped her face and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.
"oh dios mio, mierda!" you looked up with a frown at the sound of a thud and another string of heated spanish rattle around your mostly bare apartment.
"ale? estás bien?" you yelled out, getting no answer from your girlfriend as you ventured out of the bedroom to find her, having been unpacking the small mountain of boxes full of clothes into your now shared wardrobe.
"amor?" you called out, snapping your fingers a few times when she didn't react, finally pulling her head out of the instruction manual. "whats wrong?" you chuckled, seeing the obvious frustration embedded into her features.
"there is too many parts!" alexia huffed, slamming the instruction manual to the ground. "baby its a few chairs and a table." you withheld the urge to laugh, sensing she was teetering on the edge as you watched the brunette take a few deep breaths.
you gazed around the room at the multitude of flat pack furniture you'd collected this morning with the van while you had it rented for a few hours, sighing quietly at the sheer amount of work it seemed to be.
you'd begged alexia to let you just pay someone to come over and build everything, the catalan having no issue paying movers to help the pair of you move your lives from two apartments into a brand new home which you'd now share.
but her stubborn refusal to let you do so had meant there was now a very large amount of building needing to be done between the two of you, or more accurately by alexia who was also stubbornly determined to do everything herself.
which is what now had lead to your girlfriend surrounded by a 45 piece tool kit she'd bought only an hour ago, including a power drill that in her hands terrified you.
"está bien nena, lo resolveré." alexia exhaled through her nose, picking the instructions up again and burying her head back into it as you hummed. you leant down to kiss her cheek as you passed, her arm reaching out and patting at thin air, her attention focused on the task at hand.
"bebita! ven aquí, por favor." you'd spent several hours slugged your way through three quarters of the boxes of clothes, humming away to the music playing from your phone when you'd heard her come searching for you, calling out.
"amor? vamos, come please!" alexia appeared in the doorway before you could even blink, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the room ignoring your protests, grip on you unrelenting.
"mira!" alexia gestured proudly and you smiled seeing the dining room table put together, a singular chair pushed beneath it as the others lay discarded and half finished to the side.
"sit sit." the brunette ushered you over and pulled the chair out for you, all but pushing you into it as she hovered by you with an excited grin. "see? i told you i could do it." alexia puffed her chest out proudly.
though you didn't even have a chance to respond, pulling your phone from your pocket where it was digging into your hip and placing it down on the table, a unintentional mistake.
both your eyes widened, yours in shock and your girlfriends in horror as suddenly the legs all caved inward and the table slid completely sideways, a melodious clinking echoing about as a handful of screws scattered the floor.
a squeal left your mouth as then the chair gave in, the back falling off from the base sending you tumbling backwards as alexia lunged to try and break your fall but only managed to cradle your head as the rest of your body crashed to the ground.
you groaned in pain and sat up slowly, rubbing your throbbing tailbone as alexias warm hand disappeared from the back of your neck.
"hey, amor-" you caught the look on her face and tried to quickly reassure her but it was too late. you winced as finally after teetering on the edge all day, the spanish captain snapped.
you winced as a string of angry curse words left her lips, her limbs lashing out to kick chair legs across the room as she shook her fist at the slab of mahogany wood on the floor as if it could hear her, ripping up the instruction manual and hauling the confetti like pieces to the floor and stamping on them.
the burst of rage was short, but effective in destroying all the work she'd clearly put in over the last few hours, which really was for nothing considering she'd clearly skipped over a few key instructions.
you thought she was done when she stood, panting and face bright red, falling silent and staying still for a moment, a thin sheen of sweat coating her body which was only clad in a pair of shorts and a tank top.
"ale-" you started softly, unable to say another word as suddenly she stormed off, the slam and click of the lock of the bathroom door making you jolt a little in shock.
you shot up to your feet as quickly as you could, scrambling to the bathroom and ignoring the throbs of pain plaguing your body. "cariño, open the door please." you knocked softly, only hearing a huff on the other end of the door.
"alexia, please let me in baby." you tried again as a minute passed and you heard no movement, yet another huff and something inaudible mumbled your only response once more.
"amor open the door. its just a table and chairs, we can fix it." you cooed assuringly. "no! déjame en paz." alexia grunted and you could already imagine the scowl which would be embedded into her features, almost able to hear it in her voice.
"ale, open the door you're being silly." you sighed knocking again, silence all you were met with as you pulled a face and yelled silently up at the roof.
"alexia! let me in, please?" you knocked a little harder, a small no grumbled in response as your head thumped against the door. "fine, throw your tantrum then." you rolled your eyes and left her be, pulling your phone out of your room.
you looked around the mess which your living room was, well aware your bed was also laid out in boxes to be built, and made a decision, clicking call and holding your phone to your ear.
"hola hermana que será! how is the new place?" alba sang out cheerfully, answering after only a few rings. "alba, we need help, real help. and hands, many many helping hands! oh and i need your mami, your sister has locked herself in our bathroom." you sighed as there was a pause for a moment.
"vale. i make some calls, find some hands and i will pick up mami and see you very soon amiga! promesa."
~
"finalizado! a beautiful princess castle for a beautiful little princess." mapi grinned tickling layla who giggled and tried to push her hands away.
"gracais maps." you smiled appreciatively, your niece already racing around the room collecting toys and finding them a home inside her castle, chattering away to them as she did so.
"ingrid! come play." layla waved over the norweigan who moved quickly to sit beside her, layla introducing her to all of her toys as ingrid shook all their hands and said hello making her girlfriend smile fondly.
"ale, say thank you." you grinned teasingly at your girlfriend who stood in the doorway, face like thunder as she only scoffed and stormed out of the room.
"oh amiga i will not be letting her forget this for a very, very long time." mapi sighed happily, tattooed arm draped over your shoulder as the two of you left ingrid and layla to follow alexia out to the living room.
"de nada capi!" mapi called out mockingly as alexia shot her a glare from her place on the sofa, rolling her eyes and burying her focus into her phone.
"woah little racer! we have a speed limit in this house." you snagged layla as she sprinted into the room, hoisting her up and onto her hip. "you know you are my favourite auntie." you raised an eyebrow at her words, her tiny hands settling on your cheeks only furthering your amusement.
"by blood missy i am your only auntie." you laughed, clearly sensing that she was after something. "well you are my favourite." layla grinned as you hummed. "what are you up to hm?" you dug a finger into her ribs making her squeal.
"nothing." she grinned charmingly, a smile which was terrifyingly close to alexia's despite the fact she'd barely been here a week. "oh really?" you questioned as ingrid joined you all, her and mapi watching on in amusement.
"can mapi sleepover? please!" layla begged, hands still on your cheeks as you sighed. "ingrid said it was okay! she said its good because then without mapi around she can have a...a...a self care night!" layla remembered.
"amor!" mapi gasped in mock offence, her girlfriend smiling apologetically and stealing a kiss which seemed to placate the shorter girl beside her.
"can i come too?" alexia glanced to ingrid as you shot her a glare and she merely winked, her sour mood from early seeming to melt away. "pleaseee!" layla begged, hitting you with the pout and puppy dog eyes combo.
"yeah amiga, pleaseee!" mapi suddenly appeared in front of you with a matching expression making you roll your eyes. "fine." you gave in with a sigh, putting your niece down who hugged your leg tightly chanting thank you's as you rolled your eyes but smiled.
"come on pollito, lets go get my bag from the car!" mapi grabbed the smaller girl and hoisted her up onto her shoulders with a cheer. "wait you packed a bag? this was pre-planned wasn't it?" you accused your friend and team mate who smiled innocently.
"call it a thank you gift for my free carpentry skills chica." mapi winked, ducking down so layla wouldn't hit her head as she opened your front door.
"whats a pollito?" layla frowned in confusion at the earlier nickname. "it means little chicken." mapi explained as your niece ohh'd and they started to head for the elevator.
"hey i'm not a chicken!"
~
"remind me again mi amor why did you say yes to this?" alexia sighed quietly from behind you, the two of you squished together on the sofa as you watched mapi and layla dance around the living room watching the lion king.
"i didn't see you stepping in to say no! what happened to trying to be the bad cop every now and then?" you turned to gaze up at her with a raised eyebrow. "i didn't make her pancakes for breakfast?" alexia tried with a smile, pecking your lips a few times.
"wow how does she not hate you when you are so strict?" you teased, thumb affectionately tracing the curve of her jaw as she playfully rolled her eyes.
your conversation was interrupted as a small body landed on top of you causing you to grunt, layla hovering over you with a grin. "hola!" she chirped, alexia smiling at the spanish and returning the greeting, mapi disappearing to use the toilet.
"can we do makeovers? pleaseee?" she begged, hands clasped together as your eyes flickered to alexia, your girlfriend conviniently stayinfg quiet.
"of course you can! my skin is very sensitive though babe, but i'm sure your tia would love a makeover! right amor?" you grinned as alexia opened and closed her mouth a few times and layla hit her with the puppy dog eyes.
"sí pequeña, i would like a makeover."
with your girlfriend and her best friend occupying layla with their faces as her canvases you slipped off to shower and wash your hair, your girlfriend very unimpressed at not being able to join you like she normally would.
"oh wow! qué bellas señoritas." you whistled with a wolfish grin at the makeup smeared all over both the footballers faces as you returned, drying your hair with a towel.
"smile chicas!" you called out snapping your fingers, mapi grinning and slinging an arm over alexia who glared at the camera, layla squished between them with a beaming smile as you snapped a few pictures.
"now layla i think you need to do their hair and their nails!"
~
"they're both dead to the world." you chuckled as you quietly closed your own bedroom door, padding over to the bed where alexia lay waiting, arms open ready for you to climb into them.
"dead to the world?" alexia frowned, not quite understanding the euphemism. "just means they're deep asleep amor." you smiled, slipping into bed as she hummed, grabbing at your top and tugging you into her arms.
"mm i think you should have kept the makeup on." you teased as alexia puffed air from her nose. "sí gracias for that bebita." alexia rolled her eyes as you grinned and pressed your lips to hers.
"maybe the makeup might have helped you build that castle." you continued to tease as alexia pulled away when you chased her lips, quirking an eyebrow at you.
"ale!" you laughed as the taller girl suddenly rolled on top of you, pinning your hands by your head with a smirk. "oh princesa you seem to have forgotten again how i am very good with my hands." alexia purred, lips ghosting yours.
"necesita un recordatorio?" your girlfriends teeth tugged at your earlobe as your eyes fluttered close, her lips sucking a mark into your skin, smiling as your hips bucked against her involuntarily.
though right as the blondes large hand trailed down your stomach, fingers toying with the waistband of your shorts, the bedroom door flew open and the two of you sprang apart.
hurrying to tug your shirt down as alexia cleared her throat and scooted as far away from you as she could get without falling from the bed.
"lay? are you okay?" you asked your niece, trying to seem as normal as possible. "mapi snores. can i sleep here please?" the five year old asked hopefully as you sighed.
"okay lala, up you come then."
~
"what? she looks so cute!" alexia grinned happily as you sighed again, shaking your head as layla walked ahead of the two of you, mapi and ingrid each holding one of her hands as they swung her in between them, the five of you headed to the beach for the day.
"she looks like she's a teenager!" you laughed with a shake of your head, alexia having been in charge of dressing layla this morning had kitted her out in just a few of the multitude of items she'd bought her on their little secret shopping trip the other day.
"kids can wear whatever they want amor." alexia kissed your cheek and you shoved her away as her hand discreetly palmed at your ass.
"behave putellas." you warned with a tut as she grinned. "i have been princesa, but in a few more days when it is just you and i again, i promise to stop behaving." she whispered, kissing your now flushed cheek and effortlessly scooping you up as you reached the sand.
"alexia!" you laughed as she carried you bridal style down the beach toward where mapi and ingrid had already set up. "my turn!" layla lit up as you reached the group and your girlfriend put you back down again.
"oh your turn hm pequeña?" alexia hummed, quickly pulling off her shorts and top, layla's giggles filling the air as your girlfriend picked her up and held her not unlike you'd cradle a baby.
"oye maría! you want to go fishing for sharks? i found some bait." alexia grinned shaking layla lightly who gasped. "oh sí! i have heard they like live bait the best." mapi teased as layla began to wiggle to try and get down.
"vamos little shark bait!" alexia grinned, sprinting off toward the water as mapi raced off after them, you and ingrid opting to work on your tans leaving your girlfriends to burn off their energy as they took turns tossing layla between them as you watched on with a smile at her laughter which carried back to you.
"ale seems very happy." you turned your head to find ingrid smiling at you, eyes covered by sunglasses but you didn't need to see them to know there would be a knowing look in them.
"you both seem very happy." ingrid added on, wiggling her eyebrows as you shook your head and laid back down, looking up to the sky. "come on! you have been together for awhile." ingrid continued to hint.
"we have been talking about it." you gave in somewhat as ingrid gasped. "if ale makes mapi the godmother does that make me a godmother too? or a tia?" ingrid rambled out making you laugh.
"relax! we have been talking about it ingrid, i'm not pregnant yet." you chuckled as the norweigan gasped again. "so you're going to carry? oh this is so exciting. have you thought about names? a preferred gender? would it be a putellas or after you? or maybe both?" your friend barely took a breath, only stopping when you threw a sandal at her.
"mapi has been a bad influence on you with all of her yapping." you shook your head now making ingrid laugh as she apologised and laid back down, seemingly dropping the topic as a pleasant silence fell between you.
you had nearly dozed off when suddenly your body temperature changed as layla jumped on top of you, shaking her head left to right as droplets of icy water rained down on you.
"oh thats funny is it lala?" you sat up and dug your fingers into her sides, holding her in your arms as she giggled and begged you let her go. "tia save me!" layla yelled as alexia and mapi returned from the water, chatting in spanish between one another with wide grins.
"alexia no don't you-" you let your niece go and began to warn your girlfriend, recognising the cheeky smile on her face as before the next word could drop from your lips you were tugged up and thrown over her shoulder.
"hey lay, should we dig a hole and bury mapi?" the five year old agreed eagerly as ingrid started to help her dig, mapi shrugging and joining in, the three of them chattering away and ignoring your cries for help.
"baby no no no please i washed my hair last night!" you begged as alexia started off toward the water, her hand patting your ass. "good thing you can wash it again tonight then precioso." your girlfriend waded into the water up to her hips before tossing you in to join her.
"hola sexy!” she was on you the very moment you surfaced, hands gripping your thighs and hoisting you up, legs wrapped around her torso as she walked the two of you out a little deeper, silencing your mumbles of annoyance with a few sweet pecks to your lips.
"i hate you." you huffed as she only grinned, holding onto you tighter as you tried to push away from her to swim back to shore. "menos mal que te quiero lo suficiente para los dos." the catalan promised sending a slight blush to your cheeks.
"baby were you serious when you said you wanted to talk about kids once lay goes home?" you questioned, hands playing with her wet hair as the older girl nodded. "i was. does this make you uncomfortable mi amor?" alexia frowned as you were quick to shake your head.
"no, it makes me excited." you admitted with a soft smile causing alexias features to brighten. "sí?" she grinned, pulling you even closer if that was possible, pressing her forehead against yours as you nodded.
"maybe once layla is in bed tonight we could maybe look up some doctors? see who to speak to." alexia suggested hopefully as you nodded in agreement. "sounds perfect baby, so perfect." you promised, tilting your head and pressing your lips to hers.
"but cariño when we have our own little bebita we need to get a bedroom door that locks." alexia huffed as you threw your head back with laughter and she let you down, pulling you into a hug as her lips brushed against the crown of your head.
~
you looked up from your book hearing keys jingle in the lock, snapping it shut right as the door opened and footsteps thudded toward you.
"vale! layla remember what we talked about in the car sí?" you heard your girlfriend yell, voice wavering with just a touch of panic as you started to sit up, your niece appearing and readying herself to launch at you.
"hey! tia." the now six and a half year old groaned as alexia raced in and grabbed her backpack, effectively holding her hostage making you smile. "we said gentle lala, gentle." alexia reminded sternly as you met her worried eyes, nodding softly.
"because she has a tummy ache, i know!" layla rolled her eyes and crossed her arms with a huff. "its okay amor, let her go." you promised, a flicker of doubt crossing alexia's face before she did so.
"hi trouble." you knelt down as your niece crashed into you, hugging you tightly and kissing your cheek. "i missed you. why didn't you come home for christmas?" layla frowned as you gave her a sympathetic smile.
"well you know how tia alexia and i are dating, yes?" you pulled her to sit on the lounge with you, helping her to shrug off her backpack as she curled into your side.
"yeah mummy said alexia is your girlfriend and the two of you love each other very much." layla parroted making you smiled. "we do. and you know how your mummy is my big sister, and grandma is my mum?" you questioned as layla nodded.
"well tia alexia has a mum and a sister too, she has a big family. and because i love her, i love her family just as much as my family. so i spent christmas with alexia's family this year, thats why i didn't come home." you explained as the girl nodded, slight frown of concentration on her face.
"better stop that, or else the wind might change and you'll be stuck like that forever!" you teased smoothing out your eyebrows with your fingers as your girlfriend returned, eyes roaming your body protectively for any sign of discomfort as you sent her a reassuring smile and patted the space next to you.
but before she could take a seat there was a few more knocks at the door and layla perked up. "mapi! ingrid!" she cheered recognizing their voices, jumping down and sprinting off as you pushed yourself up and to your feet.
"oh look, it lives!" mapi cheered, throwing her hands to the air as you rolled your eyes and the tattooed defender pulled you into a tight hug. "we were really beginning to worry, you have not been training or playing for nearly two weeks now. that is a very serious bug!" ingrid looked over you with concern.
"i know, but i'm on the other end of it now. i missed everyone though! only stuck here with captain grumpy for company." you sighed as you let go of ingrid, your girlfriend scoffing in offence where she stood with layla on her hip despite the fact she was definitely starting to get a little old for that.
"don't do that tia, if the wind changes your face will be stuck forever!" layla was quick to smooth out alexias's furrowed eyebrows just like you had done for her before making you chuckle.
"vamos amigas, we made lunch."
~
"not yet! wait just a second." you warned your niece as alexia handed her a shoe box, doing the same to mapi and ingrid who frowned in confusion, their questions waved away.
alexia's arm wrapped around your waist as she kissed the side of your head and you smiled.
"okay, open." you both spoke in sync sharing a grin, your head dropping to your girlfriends shoulder as her strong arm squeezed you excitedly.
all three girls pulled out barcelona home kits, layla's a kids one as mapi and ingrid frowned. "look amiga i know you have won a lot of trophies but i do not need your shirt to-" mapi directed the comment toward your girlfriend who rolled her eyes.
"cállate y dale la vuelta." alexia gestured for them to turn the jerseys over, all three pairs of eyes widening as mapi's jaw hung slack. "big cousin 2025." layla managed to read out the back of hers, still not quite understanding.
"godparents 2025." ingrid managed out, her and mapi shocked to silence as you and alexia grinned. "so you are-and that is why you haven't been-ohh." mapi sighed in realization as ingrid nodded slowly.
your friends were rapidly up on their feet and crushing you both in a hug, alexia hurriedly warning them against squeezing you too tight as mapi teased her for how overprotective she was being.
"does anyone else know? are we the first?" mapi asked excitedly making alexia roll her eyes with a smile. "our parents know, but thats it. we're going to tell the rest of our families in a couple of weeks once we've had the final scans done." you explained, alexia stealing a kiss as her hand fell proudly to your stomach.
"lay i'm pregnant." you confirmed as your niece still looked a little confused, smiling up happily at alexia as layla screamed and all four of you winced. "there's a baby in here? can i name it? can it come have sleepovers?" layla's body vibrated with energy as she stood before you staring at your stomach in wonder.
"yeah lala, a little cousin for you and a little baby for tia ale and i, a baby all of our own."
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soulessjourney · 8 months
Note
Hello love I have a request that I would love you to write!
Cassian or Azriel I am not picky and Y/N
Y/n gets into an argument with Cassian and or Azriel about how they are not attentive, and they’re for them anymore and says that if things don’t change they’re leaving. Things do not change and it is the night that the inner circle goes into Hewn city. at the gala, Eris ask Y/N to dance. And one of the boys is really brooding just standing in a corner just watching YN and Eris dance and then is the part where Taylor goes. “I can see you staring honey like he’s just your understudy like you get your knuckles, bloody for me” I want their eyes to connect from across the dance floor. That would be great. then I am giving you full creative freedom with the undertones of exile by Taylor Swift. give me all the angst you can give the more the better.
I absolutely love this idea! I hope that I live up to your expectations and provided enough angst to feed that burning hunger of yours! Also apologies that it has taken me so long, in all honesty I kept forgetting what I was writing and I wanted it to be PERFECT.
Exile
Paring: Azriel x Reader
Word count: 4k
Summary: Azriel starts to distance himself from you. Fed up with his disappearing acts, you confront him, only for it to end in driving you away entirely.
Warnings: Angst (and lots of it), Fighting, Language, Hurt and comfort (from Mor)
If there was one thing Azriel was known for, it was his dedication to his work and his undying loyalty to Rhysand. He was also your mate, someone who meant the entire world to you. You had met Azriel about two hundred years ago when you started your bakery. He came in after watching you struggle with carrying the large bags of flour, extending a helping hand. Since then, he started coming daily to see what new goods you were cooking up, and that's when he asked you on your first date.
The first date was a bit awkward as he shied away, speaking in such a hushed tone that you had to repeatedly ask him to repeat himself. Despite Azriel's strength, you loved his shy side. There was something so docile and soft about it, and you were the only one who truly got to see that side of him.
When the bond snapped into place, both of you were fighting over who would mix the flour, ending with both of you covered from head to toe. It was when he heard your infectious laugh that he felt it, and it was obvious when you gave him that loving gaze he was drawn to. Your eyes were so soft, and your smile was wide. So, that evening, you made him his favorite treat and offered it to him, which soon led to Azriel making sure Rhysand got it through Cassian’s head that you two were not to be bothered for a few weeks.
Those were the moments you missed more than anything. You missed curling up with Azriel as you read the same book, often sharing your reactions. You missed hiding from him to scare him, only to fail the moment his shadows shot out to greet you after a long day. You missed your mate, and your happy memories felt like a fever dream. He was starting to become a distant memory, and part of you wasn’t even sure if you wanted to put up a fight.
You couldn't recall the last time you had spent more than a few moments with him. Lately, he had been staying at the House of Wind to be closer to Rhysand, ready for any last-minute missions that might arise. Initially, you didn't mind, considering Rhysand's frequent missions, especially when Feyre was pregnant and needed his support. However, what began to trouble you was that he never invited you to join him, nor did he visit your shared home to see you.
Then you heard about the time he started spending with Elain. You weren't bothered by her, as you couldn't blame her for shutting everyone out. Her entire life had been stripped away in a matter of moments, and now she was essentially immortal, with a mate forced upon her. However, understanding also brought weariness. You could sense that she had developed feelings for your mate, and Azriel, being who he is, most likely was unaware of the affection she held towards him. Strangely, this knowledge made you want to be around him more, but you didn't know how to navigate the situation.
Azriel had been a significant presence in your life, and the sensation of him slipping away was something you loathed. At some point, he had closed off the bond, making it nearly impossible to reach out to him through it. Running your hands over your face, you attempted to dispel the exhaustion before deciding to visit the House of Wind to ensure Azriel was at least alive.
Your arrival at the House of Wind did not go unnoticed. Cassian, upon spotting you ascending to the training area, made your presence known. "Y/N! You're here. We've been wondering when you would show up. We were starting to think you didn't like us," he teased, capturing everyone's attention.
Clearing your throat, you offered him a small smile as the breeze tousled your hair. "Yeah, things have been hectic at the bakery. Have you seen Azriel? It's been hard to find him lately," you inquired, noticing Cassian's expression contorting into one of pure confusion.
"What do you mean? He said he was with you this morning," Cassian replied, scrutinizing your every move. Dread began to fill your body as the realization that Azriel had even been deceiving the others dawned on you.
Forcefully laughing, you scratched the back of your head, clearing your throat. "No, he was! By 'lately,' I meant during the day since he's usually all over because of the missions Rhys keeps assigning him," you explained, even your forced smile fading as Cassian's gaze filled with concern and pity.
"Y/N, Rhys hasn't assigned him anything for a while, not after what happened with Feyre and your injury. Rhys wanted him to be around you more because of that close call. Are you telling me you haven't seen him?" Cassian inquired, raising a brow and challenging you to lie. By now, the entire area had cleared out except for Nesta, who stood in the background watching you and Cassian, her jaw tense. She knew something, and you would extract it from her if necessary.
"No, I haven't. I mean, he comes home once in a blue moon, but then he just sleeps in the guest room, and he's gone by the time I wake up," you admitted, your shoulders sagging. "I really miss him, Cass. The nightmares are starting to return. He's not avoiding me because he blames himself for what happened, right?" Just a few months ago, Azriel had angered someone, resulting in a dagger being firmly lodged in your side. Recalling that moment, you realized Azriel wasn't present when Cassian and Feyre found you on the floor of the bakery's kitchen that morning.
You heard Nesta curse before she joined Cassian's side. "I spoke to the idiot already, and I thought I got through to him. He's with Elain in the garden. I saw them just before training started, and considering how often they spend time there, he should still be there," she divulged, her expression shifting from anger to guilt. You wanted to be furious, but part of you couldn't muster the anger towards her. Nesta had tried her best to handle the situation discreetly, but with her knowing, you wondered just how long Azriel had been sneaking around with Elain while deceiving the rest of his family.
You hadn’t heard anything else Nesta had said as your feet carried you through the house. Just as you turned the corner, you collided with a solid chest, causing you to stumble back. Looking up, you sucked in a deep breath as your eyes locked with a pair of hazel ones. "Azriel," you breathed, reaching out towards him. Your hand fell to your side when he pulled away from you. "I've missed you. You're never around anymore," your voice thick with emotion as you struggled to say anything beyond the standard 'I miss you'.
Azriel glanced over your shoulder, his expression hardening. "You're not supposed to be here. Why are you here?" His eyes eventually met yours as a scoff escaped your mouth. You hadn’t seen your mate for the past few weeks, and that’s what he had to say to you? That you weren’t supposed to be there, trying to ensure he was alive?
"You're joking, right? Azriel, I haven’t seen you for weeks, and that’s all you have to say? A hello would’ve been nice at least," you snapped, crossing your arms. Rolling his eyes, he turned on his heel and began to walk away. "No, you don’t get to walk away from me, Azriel. That’s not fair. You don’t get to pull a disappearing act without some sort of explanation. You don’t get to lie to your family and expect not to get caught," you snapped, following after him. As the two of you entered the dining area, you missed the others sitting at the table, their conversations cut short as you stomped after Azriel.
Azriel stopped and spun towards you, his wings flaring slightly. "My gods, Y/N, can’t you just get off my back? I’m not going to be there every single second of the day with you. You need to learn how to live without me for once in your life." Any sound that filled the room suddenly fell silent as you took a step back, feeling as though he had slapped you.
"Oh, shit." Looking around, you came face to face with your family, all silent as they watched you. Nesta was glaring daggers at Azriel, while Cassian and Rhysand were positioned to intervene if things went south. Mor and Feyre looked at you, their faces filled with guilt. Then there was Elain, sitting there with the audacity to appear clueless about what was happening. Your entire family was there to witness the potential downfall of your relationship with Azriel. Great.
"What's your issue, Y/N? Why are you on my case today? I haven’t done anything to deserve this nagging. Gods, it’s like after you healed, you became an overbearing mess," Nesta slammed her hands down on the table and stood, prompting Cassian to grab hold of her to prevent her from lunging at Azriel across the room.
A dry laugh escaped you as you narrowed your eyes. “Overbearing? Azriel, you haven’t been around in weeks! You can’t even stand to be in the same room as me. And overbearing? Day to day, I have to deal with the people you anger, and I constantly fear for my life because of your job. I took a damn dagger to the side and almost died because of your job. I’m sorry if accepting you for who you are and your job is overbearing. I’m sorry that worrying for you is just so awful. You’ve changed, Azriel, and I don’t know if it’s because of the damn elephant in the room or if you’ve simply given up. I’m tired of dealing with the nightmares alone, and I want you back by my side when I wake up screaming because I constantly feel that dagger ripping me apart.” Tears streamed down your face as you looked around.
Rhysand had slowly made his way towards you with Mor by his side, the two members of this family, besides Cassian, whom you trusted with your life. Glaring down at the ground, you looked up at Azriel, your face void of any emotion. “If you can’t clean up your act, I’m done.” Azriel froze as a flood of fear slammed into you. He slipped, and you could tell the moment he slammed those walls back up.
“Clean up my act? You’re the one to talk. It’s like ever since you woke up, you became afraid of the world all over again. You shouldn’t need us to walk you to work and back. You shouldn’t need us hanging around the store all day just because you’re scared of someone showing up. I can’t stand to have a mate who is so fearful of the world.” You dropped your shoulders in defeat at his words. It was true; after what happened, you had been terrified of being in that shop, fearing they would come back and finish the job.
Rhysand was next to you in a second, followed by Mor, who caught you as your knees gave out. “That is no way to speak to your mate, Azriel,” Rhysand spat. “You sat around moping because you wanted one. The Mother blesses you with one, and this is how you thank her? Seriously?” Rhysand crossed his arms, the room noticeably darkening.
“Well, maybe she made a mistake. Maybe Y/N isn’t supposed to be my mate. We have nothing in common, meanwhile, Elain and I do.” The moment the words left his mouth, your head snapped in Elain’s direction as you clenched your jaw.
Looking back at Azriel, you shook your head. “I mean it, Azriel. If you can’t clean up your act, I’m done. Don’t bother looking for me until you figure out your mess. I’m done,” you spat, winnowing from your very spot into your room. Grabbing a duffel bag, you began to cram things into it just as you heard footsteps sprinting down the hall towards your door, and the echoes of voices calling out to the owner of those steps.
As Azriel threw open the door, you looked at him as he reached out for you, his mouth opening to say something. Before you could hear what he had to say, you disappeared, leaving him standing in the middle of your room.
---
It had been a month since you chose to seclude yourself in Mor's guest bedroom. As the door slowly opened, light flooded into the dark room, and Mor stepped inside. Sitting on the bed, she gently rubbed your back to draw your attention. "Hey there, sweetheart. It's time to get you out of this room. Velaris has started to notice your absence now that the bakery is closed," she said softly, sensing your reluctance. "He still asks about you, but he's also spending more time with her. Rhys has tried talking sense into him, Cassian kicked his ass, and the girls have been giving him the cold shoulder. I'm sorry, my love, but perhaps attending the Gala in Hewn City would do you good," she suggested, brushing your hair away from your face gently.
You nodded and turned onto your side to look at her, a small frown forming on your lips. Mor's gaze softened as she sighed softly. "Come, I want to show you something," she said, gently pulling you out of bed. Standing up, you followed her out of the room toward another one just down the hall. Mor pushed the door open, revealing a mannequin adorned with a stunning deep purple gown featuring delicate beadwork climbing the bodice. The main skirts bore the design of a tree and leaves, with the beads on the skirt representing flowers. It was the most beautiful gown you had ever seen.
"I had it made for you to wear tonight. You deserve to look and feel beautiful. Azriel is taking you for granted. With your beauty and eyes that could bring a man to his knees, this dress is perfect for you," Mor whispered from behind you, resting her hands on your shoulders gently.
A wide smile graced your lips for the first time in a month as you turned to face Mor. "Thank you, Mor. Truly, it means a lot to me that you did this," your words were soft and heartfelt. A sense of brokenness lingered within you, the result of Azriel's neglect over the past month, compounded by the knowledge of his time spent with Elain. Mor guided you to the bathroom, where she helped you into the tub and began to wet and wash your hair.
"You know, we’re all upset with him for treating you like this. Yes, Elain needed help before, but even Nesta started to reprimand him for spending too much time with her. I remember when he first came home after meeting you. He was covered in flowers and had the biggest grin on his face. He couldn't stop talking about you, and Cassian often had to beg him to stop. But then, after one of his missions went awry and you got hurt, everything changed. He refused to see you, or even go near that part of the house. And then he kissed Elain. I thought Nesta was going to tear him to shreds. After that, he began lying to us about spending time with you, even after Rhysand practically forced him out of the garden." Mor's words pierced through you, mentioning the kiss shattered your fragile emotional state.
A wave of despair washed over you. Shoulders slumping, you gazed down at the water surrounding your bare form. "Do you think he still loves me?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty. Mor took a deep breath, visibly caught off guard by your question. She hummed softly as she poured water over your head, grappling for the right words.
"I'm sure he does. Azriel is complex, we all know that. For centuries, he's prayed to The Mother for a mate. I heard him whispering a prayer every night until he met you. Then it turned into begging her to ensure your safety. Azriel tends to shut down and push away those closest to him when he's struggling to cope. He avoided Rhysand when he returned from Amarantha's clutches. His treatment of you isn't fair, but I genuinely don't know how to reach him anymore." Mor cleared her throat, rising to her feet. "I'll leave you to dry off and get into a robe. When you're ready, come downstairs, and I'll help you dress and do your hair," she offered with a comforting smile, squeezing your shoulder before exiting the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
It didn’t take long for you to exit the tub once the water turned cold. After drying off your body, you slipped on a black silk robe and began to towel dry your hair. As you made your way towards the stairs, you made a mental note to find a way to thank Mor for everything she had done for you. Nearing the bottom of the steps, you froze upon hearing Mor engaged in a conversation with someone. Peeking around the corner, you spotted Azriel standing with his back to you in the middle of the living room, while Mor stared at him with an intense gaze. “She thinks you don’t love her, Azriel. You’ve pushed her to the brink of giving up,” she snapped, causing him to tense at her words.
Azriel ran his fingers through his hair, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the right words to say. “I do, I just... I don’t know. I haven’t seen her for a month, and I’m starting to go crazy, Mor. I don’t know what to do about it anymore, and it feels like everything I say comes out wrong,” he confessed. You noticed his shadows lurking in the room, beginning to slither their way towards you.
“And what about the kiss, Azriel? You kissed Elain while your own mate was at home, thinking you were off on some mission Rhysand assigned to you,” Mor jabbed a finger into his shoulder. “You gave up, and she kept pushing. This is your doing, and you need to figure it out. She was serious when she told you to clean up your act. Right now, you’re showing her you’ll never change, not after you hadn’t even bothered to come see her for a month knowing she was here. You pushed her aside for Elain. It’s time you finally accept the consequences of your actions, Azriel. If you lose her for good, that’ll be on you.” Before Azriel could respond, he tensed and turned towards you, his eyes widening.
Allowing your gaze to fall into a blank expression, you looked at Mor. “I’m ready,” your voice came out as a whisper, and Mor nodded, shoving past Azriel. You both made your way back up the stairs, leaving Azriel standing alone in the middle of the room. Once again, you were just out of his reach, and once again, he was on the verge of losing you for good.
---
The gala was breathtaking. Witnessing the courts gathering together always brought you immense joy. Tamlin made his way towards you, a wide smile on his face. “Y/N! It’s good to see you again. We've been missing your baked goods dearly,” he grinned, prompting a laugh from you. Born in the Spring court, you had grown close to Tamlin, and it was there that you honed your baking skills while growing up. When the time came for you to seek a new path, Tamlin had let you go, assuring you that you would always have a home to return to.
When Azriel pulled his disappearing acts, leaving you alone with your thoughts, you often debated returning to Spring, where you knew you had a family who would welcome you with open arms. “Thank you, Tamlin. If I'm ever permitted, I’ll be sure to bring you some of my cookies that you drooled over,” you teased, brushing a curl away from your shoulder.
Tamlin looked around, a questioning look flashing across his face. “Where’s your mate? The last time you and I talked, he was glued to your side.” Your eyes dulled slightly as you shrugged. You hadn’t seen Azriel all evening, though you knew he was here as you were constantly followed by a shadow.
Before you could respond, Eris made his appearance, as fashionable as ever. “Y/N, you truly outdid yourself this time. You look absolutely breathtaking in that dress. Shall we have a dance?” Without waiting for your answer, Eris grabbed your hand and led you towards the dance floor, where bodies swirled in a mesmerizing pattern. You and Eris fell into an easy rhythm as he looked down at you. “Sorry to drag you away from Tamlin, but I couldn’t help but notice how sad you looked. Is it because of your mate?” His eyes bore into yours as you sucked in a deep breath.
“It would be a mistake to lie to you,” you grumbled, earning a laugh of agreement from him. “Azriel and I haven’t talked for a good while. He’s been busy with other things,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. As you both spun, you caught sight of him standing in the corner of the room, watching you. Your eyes hardened as they locked onto his.
Eris cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to him. “You know, if you need a break from your home, you can stay in my court. We obviously have the room, and I can make sure you get the space you need to think. As much as Morrigan hates me, she’s worried about you to the point where she asked me for help.” Studying his gaze, it wasn’t hard to tell that he was being genuine.
Looking towards Azriel again, you studied him, your eyes narrowing as Elain walked up to him, handing him a glass. Biting back your tears, you let your walls down, throwing every ounce of anger, betrayal, sadness, and fear at him. You watched as he stumbled back slightly, his hand flying up over his chest, his eyes locking onto yours. You watched as Elain reached out to him, running her hand over his arm as she tried to check on him. Eris stopped moving as he stood next to you, watching the interaction between the both of them. “Just say the word, and I can take you away from here,” he whispered.
You waited for him to brush off Elain, but he didn’t. He let her hand rest on his cheek as he kept his eyes on yours, his eyes widening. “He doesn’t care about me anymore, Eris. Take me to your court,” you said, looking up at Eris, who only nodded. You didn’t miss how he glanced at Rhysand and the others, giving them a small nod. You didn’t miss how their shoulders sagged in defeat once they realized you were leaving. You didn’t miss how the crowd began to part as Azriel raced towards you, dropping to his knees in front of you. You watched as his body shook with sobs, how he begged you to stay, begged you to stay by his side. “Where were you when I begged The Mother to bring you back to me? Where were you when I was dying on the kitchen floor of my own bakery after taking a knife for you? Where were you when I woke up screaming for you? Go back to Elain, Azriel. You made your decision.” With that, you turned to Eris, giving him a small nod. With that, the both of you walked away, leaving Azriel on the ground sobbing into his hands before he disappeared from your sight as the crowd closed behind you.
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ecstarry · 1 month
Text
'the one were Regulus reunites with his first kiss' let it be known that this is unrealistically romantic but I love it for them. They deserve it.
The weather was perfect, he tried to remember if the last time he drove around those same streets it was this pleasant. His last visit had been over a decade ago. His parents had said the “demographic had changed,” and it was no longer an area they wanted to be around. His family simply relocated to their other properties for the summer, forgetting all about that home. Regulus, meanwhile, tried to forget all about one boy.
Regulus came back alone. Sirius was tied up with selling another property after their parents passed away. Regulus didn’t explain his particular interest in this location, and Sirius didn’t ask.
He was there to meet with a realtor and to say goodbye to one of his sweetest memories from his youth. When Regulus arrived at the café, he received a message asking to push back the meeting until tomorrow, and he quickly agreed. He knew exactly where he wanted to spend the rest of the day.
The walk from his car to the beach was long, but he was in no rush. Regulus carefully observed the sea. It was winter and nearly sunset; the water wasn’t as bright as the last time he had been there, but it was enough to bring the first rush of memories flooding back.
He was fifteen again, and his brother was introducing him to a handsome boy he had just met. It seemed like the sun had risen that day specifically to make the boy’s eyes shine. He remembered his name and the way their hands felt when they first touched. James. He always regretted not asking for a last name. Regulus closed his eyes and tried to recall the scent. He laughed at himself, knowing it was probably just a mix of sweat, hormones, and sand, but he found it endearing even to this day.
Beautiful hues of red and orange illuminated the sky. Regulus strolled to the pier and watched as the sky painted the same picture it had all those years ago. He took out his wallet and looked at the tiny picture he had kept. It was blurry, probably taken around the same time of day, and showed the silhouette of a boy smiling at him. The sun was behind him, so only the outline of James waving could be seen, but Regulus had never forgotten the exact curve of James’ lips as he took the picture. That summer had been a dream; he had met an angel and tasted heaven with his own lips.
The temperature began to drop, and Regulus took in his last moments at the very spot where he had felt love for the first time. He took out his camera, the same one he had used fifteen years ago, and snapped one last photo, thinking of James again.
He chose a hotel close to the café where he would meet the realtor the next day. It was a small, beautifully preserved place. As he entered, there was only one man ahead of him at the front desk. Tired, Regulus resumed scrolling on his phone when he heard it.
"James is fine."
Wood. The boy he had fallen in love with all those summers ago smelled like sweat, hormones, sand, and wood. Sound and smell held powerful memories, and Regulus learned that firsthand as he tilted his head in what felt like slow motion to look at the back of the boy who was now a man.
"James." The word escaped his lips before he could stop it, just as he had no control over his suddenly racing heartbeat.
The other man turned and dropped his bags. "It's you," he breathed.
"Do you—"
"Regulus," James said, almost as a prayer. "It's you."
James approached him tentatively and smiled. God, that smile—Regulus would’ve recognized it even if another decade had passed. Without a second thought, he took out the photograph he had just looked at and, without worrying about the potential embarrassment, showed it to James.
“It’s you.” James carefully took the picture in his hands, his eyes darting between it and Regulus. After a moment, he handed it back and took a step closer. His hand hovered near Regulus' face, hesitating just before making contact. “May I?”
Regulus nodded.
Just as gently as when they were fifteen, James tucked a single curl behind Regulus' ear.
“It’s been—” Regulus began.
“Fifteen years,” James finished. Their eyes tried to convey everything their lips still couldn’t: I’ve missed you. I never forgot about you. Let me get to know you again.
“Hi,” Regulus said with a quiet chuckle, and James’ eyes softened.
“Can I buy you dinner?”
“I would like nothing more.”
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sinkovia · 8 months
Text
Coffee Shop: III
Simon Riley x Fem!Reader
You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.
Coffee Shop Masterlist
Simon became a regular at the cafe, and over the two weeks since he started coming in, you grew more comfortable with him. The small conversations flowed easily, and he often lightened the atmosphere with an awful joke. One of your favorites was about two goldfish in a tank.
As he sat in his usual spot, you heard the familiar tear of the napkin, watching him stick the flimsy little piece between the pages of his book and close it. As he got up from his seat, you couldn't resist questioning him.
“Why don’t you have any bookmarks?” shaking your head slightly as you observed the flimsy napkin flaying up and down with the book.
“Why would I spend money on bookmarks when there are free bookmarks right here,” he replied with a matter-of-fact tone, making you shake your head and laugh. “Right, well, have a nice day.”
After he left, you thought for a moment, looking at your bookmark. The idea struck you – why not bring in some paper, markers, and packing tape tomorrow? During your break, you could make bookmarks for him. It was a small gesture that you hoped would bring a smile to his face. 
When you got home, you eagerly packed your bag with small blank pieces of rectangular paper and your high-end markers. The art scissors and clear packing tape joined the mix as you prepared for the creative endeavor. Excitement filled you as you thought about surprising Simon with a proper bookmark.
Walking to work the next day, you felt a giddy anticipation. As he entered the cafe, he couldn't help but notice your extra liveliness, a departure from your usual demeanor. Approaching the register, he found a hot cup of tea already waiting for him.
"You were waiting on me?" he asked, and you responded with a smile and a nod. "Just thought it would be nice if your tea was already ready for you when you walked in," you explained, beaming up at him. Simon, in his typical fashion, decided to tease a bit.
"I actually wanted a green tea today." Your eyebrows raised, lips forming a small "o" of surprise. "I can get you a green tea—" you began, reaching for the cup, but Simon quickly pulled out money from his wallet.
"All jokes, love," he said, and you laughed, taking the bills and putting them in the register, closing it with a soft click. As the time passed slowly during your shift, you occupied yourself with various tasks like cleaning the coffee machine, sanitizing the counters, and refilling the sugar station, hoping to make it to your break sooner. Despite your efforts, only twenty minutes seemed to pass, and you decided to say fuck it since there were no customers coming in.
You grabbed your bag and walked over to Simon, taking the seat across from him at the small table. He looked up from his book, intrigued, as he watched you pull out colorful markers and paper. With bright eyes, you sat up in your chair.
“So what are some things you like?” Simon put his book down and crossed his arms over his chest.
“What’s the paper for?” You pulled out the bookmark from the book in your bag and slid it over to him. He grabbed it, holding it up and fighting back his smile at the small drawings of penguins near an ice globe fighting about communism.
“You want to make me a bookmark?”
“Yeah, it's so depressing looking at the flimsy excuse of a bookmark.” He smiled, looking at the napkin. “So what do you like? Stars? Dogs? Trees? Oh, wait! I have the perfect thing to draw.” 
Simon leaned back in the chair, sipping his tea, and watched you draw away, switching the color of the markers every so often. He found it cute the way you were concentrated on what was in front of you.
It only took you about five minutes, but when you were done, you held the bookmark up to Simon with a smile. He couldn't help but laugh as he grabbed it, examining all the little details you drew. It was the joke he had told you a few days ago.
Two goldfish are in a tank, one says to the other, you know how to drive this thing?
You drew two fish coming out of the top of an army tank, having a conversation with each other. You added them underwater and included little battle fish with helmets charging forward.
Your eyes lingered on his smile as he scanned over the drawing. Your heart warmed, knowing he liked it. You extended your hand, and he handed it back to you. Flipping it over, you looked at him, “What should be on the back?”
Simon thought it would be funny to tell you another joke. “What has two legs and bleeds?”
You thought for a moment, slightly humming to yourself. “A gunshot victim?”
“Half a dog.”
You blankly stared at him, then laughed, “You're awful for thinking of that.” He smiled and brought the cup up to his lips, taking a long sip. “You gonna draw it?”
“I’ll draw something better,” you said, smiling and already starting the drawing. You decided to draw a dog shooting a man. Giving the dog a suit and black sunglasses, you added a large assault rifle and made little bullets fly, piercing the man as he fell to the floor. You slid the final product over, and Simon let out an audible laugh. You couldn't hide the way your eyes locked onto his face.
"This is really good, y/n." You had never felt more proud, and you couldn't stop smiling even after he handed the bookmark back to you so you could put packing tape over it. Carefully cutting the extra tape that hung off the sides, you slid it back over to him.
Simon opened his book, took out the napkin, and replaced it with the bookmark, closing the book. "See, look how much better that looks."
"You're right." He looked up at you, holding your gaze, and you couldn't help but smile. The door opened, and you quickly got up, going behind the counter to take an order. After making the person's order, you walked back to Simon, sitting across from him again.
You took out another strip of paper, and you looked up at him, "Skulls." It was all he said, and you smiled, immediately getting to work. You drew little realistic skulls with blood oozing out of the eye sockets. Leaving some space in the middle, you drew a little grim reaper because Reaper and skulls go together, right?
"The reaper’s a nice touch." You smiled, finishing the last little details. "Thought you would like it."
You looked at the clock and cursed under your breath. Your break was over, and you had to get back to work. "Unfortunately, I have to get back to work. I’ll finish this side before you leave."
"Sounds good, love, and thank you for making them." You smiled as you put the markers and supplies back into your bag. "No need to thank me; I had fun drawing them."
As you stood behind the counter, you thought about what to draw on the other side. Glancing up at Simon, who was engrossed in his book, you decided he would be the perfect thing to put on the other side. You took your time drawing him, using different colors and creating a cute, colorful sketch of him sitting by the window, holding the cup to his lips as he looked down at a book. The drawing depicted a very warm scene, with small rays of sunshine through the window and added details on the table.
The small alarm on his watch went off, and he glanced at you doodling away. He pushed the off button and stayed in the seat, continuing to read until you were done drawing. You quickly cut the extra pieces of packing tape and walked over to him.
"Sorry, that took a bit longer than I expected." You handed him the bookmark, and as he took it, you heard your manager call you to the back.
"Shit, I have to go. Walk home safe." You turned and sped walked into the back towards the kitchen.
Simon turned, pushing the door open and flipping over the bookmark. His eyes grew a little wide upon seeing your drawing of him. No one had ever drawn him before, and the way you captured him so at peace with life and the things around him was something he never thought anyone could see. He felt something swirl deep in his chest, a warmth that enveloped his body despite it being winter. You drew in his watch and the torn napkin, even adding the six dollars he tipped you when he first went there. He smiled and couldn't stop staring at all the small details you added during his walk back home.
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lolahauri · 3 months
Note
Can you do lovesick Sam from sdv? Like the farmer went somewhere for a while and he misses them. Can be nsfw!!
˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :Love Sick! Sam HC's:;
-> F/M, Established Relationship, Drabble, Headcanons, Fluff & Smut, (You're Wearing Shorts and A T-Shirt) <- (MDNI)
Summary: You went to Zuzu city to visit your family and friends for three weeks, leaving Sam at home alone. But he's so excited when you finally get back :)
~
・❥・SFW
Literal golden retriever boy.
Practically jumps on you as soon as you open the door, peppering your face in sloppy kisses while he crushes you in a bear-hug.
Only pulls away from the hug cause you couldn't breathe lol.
Helps you unload your bags and suitcases from the car.
Partly because he's just a gentleman, partly because he wants you to get in the house asap.
Does NOT let you unpack though. As soon as your stuff is inside, he's picking you up or dragging you over to the couch so he can cuddle you.
Holds you like a teddy bear and asks all about your trip, resting his face right in front of yours while he lays on his side and hugs you. You're laying on your back.
Looks at you with heart eyes while you talk, just admiring everything about you.
You think he isn't even listening, but don't worry, he is!
He just can't help but stare at your pretty lips and eyes after not seeing them for so long.
Absentmindedly draws shapes on your arm, enjoying the feel of your skin on his fingers.
Offers to make you dinner when you're done talking.
But plans change when you finally notice something pressing against your thigh. ;)
-> Vaginal Sex, Spooning Position, Hickeys, Dry Humping, Groping, Creampie <-
・❥・NSFW
As soon as you noticed he was hard, you rejected his idea of him cooking for you, saying you wanted to take care of him instead.
He doesn't waste a second taking you up on the offer.
Turns you over onto your side and starts grinding his cock onto your ass, kissing your neck and groping your tits through your shirt at the same time.
One of his hands moves down the front of your shorts as the other makes its way under your shirt.
Makes a few small hickey's on the side of your throat while he finger fucks you.
He's kneading your tits and rubbing your nipples, switching between them so each tit gets some attention.
All while he's rubbing circles around your clit, occasionally dipping his fingers into your cunt to get them nice and soaked.
Hearing your moans and whimpers drives him fucking crazy. His rutting against your ass starts to speed up, bringing him dangerously close to cumming before he's even taken his pants off.
But soon when he hears that you're getting close, his fingers slow to a stop. You don't even have time to whine and complain before he's ripping your shorts off and pulling out his cock as fast as he can.
He goes back to rubbing your clit as he teases his tip at your entrance, pushing himself in just enough for you to feel it, but not enough to help you cum.
You know what he's waiting for, he wants to hear you beg for him.
And you do. Clenching around his tip, you plead for him to just shove it in already, telling him you need him so bad.
Before you can finish your ramblings, he shoves his cock inside you in one motion.
Once he starts thrusting, you both turn into a moaning mess.
You feel his hot breathe on your neck as he whimpers into you between bites and kisses, still kneading your tits and rubbing on your clit.
Before you know it your cumming hard on his cock. Completely soaking him with your juices.
The feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him, mixed with the sound of your heavenly moaning, is making Sam's climax follow right behind yours.
"Ah fuck baby, m'gonna cum in you. Shit, shit, fuck, oh my god-"
He fucks into you a few more times, making sure you're completely stuffed before he pulls out, letting the excess cum pour out of you on down your shaking thighs.
You both lay there tired and panting for a bit.
After a few minutes he helps you up and takes you to the bathroom to shower with him.
You absolutely go for round two in the shower.
Presses your back against the wall, lifts one of your legs around his hip, and fucks you till you can barely stand (again).
But if you're significantly shorter than him, he fully lifts you up and fucks you against the wall, both legs wrapped around his waist while your arms are around his neck.
Once you two are actually clean, you head right to bed.
Big spoons you and holds your hand under the pillow as you both fall asleep. <3
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sleepymccoy · 27 days
Text
I have some general anxiety about going to supermarkets aimed at specific cultures because the intended clientele is not lil white me and the staff often don't speak english and I feel inappropriate. But not once has this been true, and I've always enjoyed my visit. Anyway, that's a preface so you can appreciate how brave I am
My colleague recently made me lahpet which is a Burmese salad including pickled tea leaves, dried beans mix, and tomatoes. I loved it and wanted more. I live in a densely Chinese area and thought one of the many supermarkets might have something Burmese, so I brought the empty jar to every store.
Many don't speak english, but that's fine. I had a jar! All interactions basically went like this;
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None of them knew Burmese so couldn't even tell me if they had something similar
I gave up and bought it online. Also had a hard time with that cos they don't deliver to apartments (got the vibe that it's just the shop owners son doing deliveries and he couldn't be fucked going upstairs. Valid). But I persevered and got three jars! And the dried beans mix I needed. Way too many dried beans, I totally misjudged the size of the bag being sold
I used one to show my friends this salad. They didn't go as insane over it as I did. I gave another jar to my dad who did go appropriately insane. He said he liked it, then five min later interrupted to say he really liked it, then after dinner spent time with me going through the ingredients and trying to figure out if he can pickle tea leaves himself. Booyah.
Regardless, this left me with one jar which I swiftly finished. So I'm on the hunt again and the online store stresses me out now cos they don't like apartments
I found a Burmese supermarket a few suburbs away and a twenty min walk from the station. Fucking worth it, it's added two hours to my commute home but I want these jars so much. I enjoyed the stroll. It rained a bit, so I saw a couple rainbows
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In the store I was, again, immediately stressed. I went down an aisle and back again and found nothing. I found other pickled things! But not my tea leaves! I did not want this trip to be in vain, it was long and I had a shit day at work. I was really only doing it today cos the days a write off as a bad day so I may as well run an annoying errand
Anyway I pulled up the website and showed the lady at the counter a photo of the jar and she pointed me to them immediately. I returned like fifteen seconds later with four jars and she was already on a phone call with someone. I love workers rights. You're awesome, lady.
So I say four and hold four fingers up and pass her one jar. She scans and sets the price right. She then interrupts whoever's talking on the phone to ask me, "How you know this?"
So I quickly explained that my colleague made me the salad and I loved it. She pointed back at the aisle and said, "the beans, you need beans." So I was like "I have so many beans, I bought too many, I just need the pickled leaves." And she was already waving her hand at me in disinterest so I stopped talking and paid lol.
It was a long haul home. I passed and remember to take a photo of my favourite art installation, the tower of coffee cups in a pole.
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There's no starbucks in my suburb so one of these at least has taken a long trip to get here. So did I today, my feet are sore
Anyway, I have four jars of miraculous pickled tea leaves. If you can figure out how to buy these ingredients I recommend it to serve alongside very fatty meals like lasagne or sausage cos it cuts through nicely. I also take a serving to work every day because the tea leaves are caffeinated so I'm skipping the second coffee
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I love lahpet
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arminsumi · 1 year
Text
it's the hair.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ fem reader
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NOTE: lol this is just a dum fluff drabble i wrote instead of studying
SUMMARY — your childhood friend and classmate satoru positively kills you with his new haircut. but he misunderstands your reactions and behaviors, thinking he did something wrong.
WARNINGS — lowercase used, not proofread, misunderstandings between u n gojo, angst if you squint ??
WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.3k
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
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you've been eyeing out gojo all day. he's not sure what to make of your expression — it's something mixed between comical worry and genuine distress.
"what? what is it?" he keeps asking you each time you give him the side eye look-over. "do i have something on my face?"
"no. it's nothing." you reply curtly.
he squints skeptically at you.
from class to class, he ponders alongside suguru. did he say something? were you mad at him? was it because he stole your soda from the vending machine yesterday? but he always does that, so why would you be mad now? maybe you were just not feeling well? did you not sleep well?
and suguru's ears flooded with all these theories.
"did i say something to y/n? she's acting strange today."
his best friend stifles a smirk. "dunno, did you?"
"i think she's mad at me. was it because i stole her soda? but y'know it's not my fault we like the same soda! and i promised to buy one for her next time!"
suguru now lowers his head into his arms, resting on the desk, trying so hard to keep his laughter in.
"maybe it's the weather — probably the flu — yeah, definitely the flu. i'll go get something for y/n at the store, d'you need anything, suguru? what! what are you laughing at!"
"nothing, nothing. i don't need anything from the store, thanks — unless maybe something spicy that catches your eye. 'better run quick, store's gonna close soon."
satoru furrows his brows in confusion, and eventually his entire expression becomes serious, like an old philosopher in deep thought about the universe. but it's not the abyssal void beyond the stratosphere that's in his thoughts, no, it's you — you're pervading his entire mind as he walks across the roads of tokyo, to the station, and boards the train.
holding onto the handles as it shudders and sways, shoulders taught as they always are when he's in thought. were you really sick? what if he did something bad? maybe it was nothing at all, and he was just overthinking it. maybe it didn't even involve him. did it have to do with suguru? or perhaps you were upset about something in the past, something irrational and long-forgotten, like the fact that he didn't attend your 7th birthday party. it's not like he had a choice, his parents barely allowed him to visit your side because they didn't want their prodigy son hanging out with...
he texts you.
satoru — are u home yet
he stares and waits for you to come online, then watches as those three dots move up and down and you start typing.
you — no why
satoru — where are u
you — bridge
satoru — what are u doing
you — lol so many questions
you — the sunset looks rlly good today i'm taking pics
satoru — wtf without me??
you — lol sorry didn't think u wanted to waste ur time watching the sunset
satoru — see u there
he's just boarding off the train, coming through its doors, when he texts you that. thank the benefit of his long legs for speeding to the store in time before it closes. he picks up your favorite.
when you see him come into view, you're waiting with your arms draped around the railing of the bridge.
"trying out for the track team?" you laugh, as he practically runs up to you. "did you run this whole way?"
he's catching his breath, clutching a plastic bag of goodies.
"are you sick?" he asks.
"what? no?"
"i thought you might have the flu." he's asking with genuine concern, it's bizarre. he usually doesn't talk like this unless he knows he's in trouble with you, or if something's really wrong.
"i'm fine." you blink, "i've just been watching the sunset. you missed the best part."
"i didn't know you enjoyed sunsets."
"why didn't you invite me!" he groans, coming over to assume an oddly attractive position by the railing. he slacks against the metal, leaning his weight on it. he lets the plastic bag with yours and suguru's favorites in it thud to the ground.
the cityscape is so pretty, and yet he's still prettier, you think.
"i don't care for them." he admits, "but of course i'll enjoy a sunset if you're watching it with me."
you look at him. he's not even facing the sunset. was something on his mind? you can hardly theorize, because you're giving him that peculiar look again.
he catches you looking at him, "what!"
"what?"
"did i do something wrong?" his breath is stable now, "are you mad at me?"
"no? why d'you think I'm mad at you?" you ask confusedly.
"because you keep lookin' at me like that!"
"like what?" you feel your cheeks warm up.
"like something about me is offensive to your eyes."
you break out laughing. "no! i'm not — it's not — you misunderstand me, like always..."
"what the hell?" he whines, "is it nothing serious? i've been worried. you've been looking at me weird since sunday and — oh... OH MY GOD."
you giggle, chin pressing on the railing. "did you just realize something?"
"is it the haircut!"
"it's the haircut."
"why do you not like it!" he fumes, that familiar satoru playfulness coming back now as he was put at ease knowing he didn't upset you. "you know it cost a lot, 'n i styled it and everything."
"i didn't say i didn't like it! it's the opposite."
"so you like it? then why do you look at me like you're having an internal crisis?"
you groan, "because you're giving me a crisis! you know i'm weak for undercuts!"
he shuts up. his heart races a bit. oh, so he misunderstood you not a little bit but entirely. oops. now why didn't he realize that his haircut would have this effect on you? when he subconsciously went to get an undercut because you mentioned you liked them in passing one school afternoon.
"oh."
"you're so dumb, satoru."
"well sorry!" he rolls his eyes.
now there's silence. he stops leaning his back against the railing and turns to face the final stages of the sunset. the streetlights come on, one is gleaming not too far from you two. it casts a dreamy light on his hair.
it really is a good cut, and it's styled in such a way that... well it gets your daydreams going, let's just say that. and here gojo was worried when he came out of the salon, thinking it was too short now. truthfully, it was a bit short compared to his other haircuts, but he wore it well. of course he did.
"so you like it?"
"i love it."
"well if you love it, then show it love." he teases.
"what on earth d'you mean?" you laugh shortly.
"fluff my hair." he says.
"no way, lice-boy."
"hey!" he pinches your cheek in retaliation, and your reaction endears him as much as it always has since you two were kids. "that was one time, i haven't ever had lice again."
he pouts. you look over. he is pouting. pouting. he's a nineteen year old boy pouting about not getting his hair fluffed by his childhood friend who he maybe sorta kinda has a crush on.
and then he encourages you. he leans his head on your shoulder. his hair tickles your cheek.
"damn. you're like an attention-starved cat." you joke.
he places your hand on his head himself. the brief warmth and glimpse at the size difference between his hand and your hand made him giddy.
you ruffle his hair lightly, and then he wears a satisfied smile. now early night has settled. it's quiet at the bridge except for the distant city sounds and lull of the highway.
"i was really worried that i did something wrong." he admits.
"i'm sorry."
he sighs, snuggling your shoulder. there's a nice silence between you and him.
then he breaks it.
"hey, i didn't say stop fluffing." his deep voice reverbs in your chest. he's playful and lively, but you can tell he's also tired from running all the way here.
"you're a menace." you tell him.
"but you like me, right?" it's more of an insecure question. he wants to hear you say it back, not as a playful joke.
"of course i do."
"good, good."
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© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.
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probablysimpledreams · 4 months
Text
Scary? My God You're Divine
(Fyodor x reader: NSFW)
a/n: omg Fyodor has been taking up too much space in my brain lately so I finally had to write for him <3 he's so pretty but in like a way pls hurt me way LOL
cw: toxic relationship dynamic (it's Fyo idk what yall expected lol), afab reader but otherwise gender neutral, lingerie, uhhh smut, oh mix of degrading and praise from Fyo, refers to reader as "milaya" for petname (I've seen multiple translations as darling, cute/cutie, & sweetheart)
wc: 1k
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You hum happily as you spin around the dressing room, loving the way the expensive clothing fit your frame. It had been ages since your last shopping trip, and honestly you couldn't remember the last time you left your house. Ever since you and Fyodor had become serious, you have been living in the private manor he had built to suit your needs. Sometimes he would visit for a while, but often times he had other business to attend to. Despite not always being around, Fyodor always ensured your needs, wants, and safety were granted. The manor was filled with everything you asked for from private chefs who cooked whatever you wished, as many pets as you wanted to keep you company, and everything else you asked for. Not many people can understand your lifestyle, viewing your off grid manor as a cage, but this didn't matter to you. You were happy and in love and that's all that mattered to you.
A soft smile on your face as you imagine the sweet words your boyfriend will utter to you later tonight when you both are home and you get to show him everything from your shopping trip. Fyodor had been away on an extra long "work trip" these past few months, and you have been anxiously been awaiting his return. The excitement you felt this morning waking up to a letter detailing his return later tonight alongside a large sum of cash to spend before his return home continued to run through your veins as you tried on more clothes. You grab all the pieces that frame your figure perfectly, happily walking to the cashier before handing the bags over to the body guards accompanying you.
After hours of walking around the upscale mall, you were ready to head back home. You begin calling for one of the body guards to pull the car around until a certain store's display catches your eye. A wide smirk paints your face as your eyes scan over the angelic lingerie set the mannequin was dressed in, calling for the bodyguards to wait a little longer before leaving.
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"You look beautiful milaya," your boyfriend offers a small smile with his praise as you twirl around the bedroom in your new outfits. Though he did not like when you left the security of his control by going out in public, his love for your little "fashion shows" after a day out shopping was much stronger. These moments belonged to only him, you belonged to only him. He hummed thinking about that fact as you raced off to grab your next outfit, your eyes sparkling as you ramble on about a movie you had recently watched. His eyes watched your every movement, eyebrow raised as you grab a bag and head off into the bathroom. "Where are you going off to?"
"This outfit is a surprise baby! You'll see in a moment," you call out from behind the closed door. He chuckled at your actions, attention returning to his laptop as he waits for your return.
His eyes widen as you reenter the bedroom, posing in your white lacey lingerie set. You climb onto the bed, closing his laptop and placing it on the nightstand before sitting on his lap.
"Surprise!" you chuckle, already feeling aroused watching his purple eyes scan your body. His hands grip your waist, fingers toying with the lacey strings of the lingerie set.
"My my, I don't recall instructing you to buy something like this in my note, milaya," he hums, hands trailing up and down your sides.
"That's the point of a surprise," you smile innocently. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling your face closer to his to plant a soft kiss on his lips.
"Whatever am I going to do with you," he sighs, hands returning to their tight grip on your waist. He pulls you in for a deeper, more passionate kiss. You whine against his lips, trying desperately to break free of his grasp and grind against him. "Patience darling."
"Fyo pleaseeee," you whine. "I've been patient for months!! I've missed you!! I need you!!" You exactly what he wanted to hear, how to get exactly what you wanted. You prided yourself on being Fyodor's one weakness in this world.
"Mmm," he happily hums, mentally noting how you said all the right answers. He loved playing these games with you, and he especially loved how you always were able to keep up with him. You were his precious darling, his angel. "I'm not fully convinced," he teased, evil smirk growing across his face. Anyone else would be attempting to run away from him after seeing this expression, however you only became more turned on. He took quick note of this too. "Look at you ______," one of his hands left your waist and traveled down to your clothed core. You gasp as he pushes the lace away from your skin, fingers running up and down your wet folds. "Making a mess of my lovely surprise. That needy? How pathetic." You cry out as his fingers begin rubbing circles against your clit.
"F-Fyodor!" you throw your head back, crying out his name. Your legs begin to shake as his movements grow faster, pushing you to your climax. "Fyo-Fyo I-I'm gonna," you cry and squirm as he kisses up and down your neck.
"Cum for me _______," he hums as you cry out his name again and again as you ride out your high. Your body shakes as you try to catch your breathe. It had been months since you've felt this good, your own fingers and toys not comparing in the slightest to what Fyodor can do. However, you don't get much time to recover before you're thrown onto your back, Fyodor now hovering you. "We're only beginning," that evil grin returning to his face before he kisses your cheek softly. "This is what you wanted, right milaya? You've been so good, let me indulge you tonight."
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