#voice messages direct to voicemail | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

worldlxvlys · 4 months

Note

ok hi hi hi i posted this but then i thought of dealer chris and came here but a smut w dealer chris based off the olivia rodrigo unreleased, i also realised as i was writing this that i can’t put vids here but it on my acc and i think if anyone can execute it well it’s you:))

prison for life

dwb! chris x reader

warnings: smut, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, implied violence, death threats, cursing

a/n: i’m sorry this literally took ages to get to, i honestly wasn’t really sure how to go about it

hopefully you like it 🫶🏾

based on this

for @bethsturn <333

chris and i had been laying on my bed peacefully when i got a call.

INCOMING CALL: JAKE

ACCEPT? DECLINE?

“fuck” i said as i read the name.

“what’s wrong?” chris asked.

“you remember jake?”

“yeah, the psycho that laced your weed? kinda hard to forget”

“he’s calling” i said as i flashed the phone in his direction. “i’m just gonna let it ring” i spoke as i placed it down in between the two of us.

we watched as it went to voicemail, and waited to listen to his message.

(1) MISSED CALL FROM: JAKE

VOICE MESSAGE 1:15

OPEN?

we played the voicemail on speaker, listening together.

“what the fuck is wrong with this dude” chris spoke, his brows furrowing.

“i don’t know but this dude is all bark and no bite, i doubt he’s gonna do anything”

“you sure, ma?”

“i’m positive, i’m more worried about the fine ass man in front of me” i smiled at him as i crawled closer to him.

“yeah?” he smirked.

“mmhmm” i said as he pulled me onto his lap.

“nobody fucks me like you, baby. nobody makes me feel the way you do” i whispered as i cupped his cheek.

“oh trust me, i know” he spoke before crashing his lips on mine.

my lack of pants, due to it just being us here, seemed to please chris as his hands kneaded my ass.

i pulled my lips from his, gently biting it, making him groan.

“chris, i need you” i spoke as i felt the wetness between my legs.

“you got it, princess” he spoke, flipping us over, putting himself on top.

my elbow landed on my phone screen, making me push it off of my bed and onto the carpeted floor.

i pulled my shirt off as he kicked off his pants, revealing his hard cock straining against his boxers.

i reached forward, helping him pull his boxers off.

“ready?” he asked as he stroked himself a few times. i nodded my head in response.

he gently guided his dick into my entrance, pushing himself in.

my walls hugged and squeezed him, welcoming his veiny cock as he bottomed out.

“shit, chris. you’re so big” i moaned.

“look at that pretty, tight pussy. just for me” he groaned.

i nodded my head, silently giving him permission to move.

his thrusts started off slow and deep, and his hips started to move faster as he gained momentum.

“fuckkkk, chris! so, so good!” my moans started to increase in volume and my hands reached out for something to hold onto.

he swiftly moved his hands to mine, interlacing them as he continued to pound me into the bed.

“yes, yes, yes, chris! god, that feels so fucking good” i cried out.

his hips slowed slightly, just enough for me to notice, “you want me to stop?” he taunted me.

“no, no, no, don’t stop! please don’t- OH FUCK!” he suddenly moved faster than he had before.

his sharp thrusts pushed me farther and farther up the bed and my moans became wails.

he pushed my legs to my chest, hitting every sweet spot with the new angle.

“god, you take me so fucking well ma” he leaned down slighly, spitting onto my pussy.

he brought his thumb to my clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves feverishly.

“chris! chris! i’m cumming!” i yelled as i felt the coil in my stomach snap.

my body tensed as my orgasm crashed through me.

“so good for me, ma. fuck, gonna cum inside of that pretty little pussy” he moaned as he finished inside of me.

he thrusted a few more times, working us through our highs before gently pulling out.

we both took a few seconds to catch our breath, laying in silence.

i looked around confused as i heard a very low voice.

i moved to the edge of the bed, looking around when i realized where the sound was coming from.

i picked up my phone, which had been face down on the floor.

to my horror, i discovered that it was in a call with jake.

fuck.

i brought the phone to the middle of the bed and pressed the speaker button, immediately being met with strings of curses and yelling.

“- GONNA KILL THIS MOTHERFUCKER. HE’S FUCKING MY GIRL. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT? I CA-“ i quickly turned it off of speaker and muted the microphone.

i stared at chris with wide eyes, meeting his amused expression.

“how the fuck did i manage to butt-dial him?” i whisper-shouted to chris.

“i don’t know, but he doesn’t sound too happy”

i looked at him in disbelief.

“how long has he been listening?” chris asked.

i looked down at my phone, checking to see how long the call had been running.

30 minutes

“30 MINUTES? WHY THE HELL DIDN’T HE HANG UP?” i yelled.

“his weird ass was probably getting off to it or something”

i quickly unmuted the mic and turned the phone to speaker again, needing to put an end to this.

“JAKE” i yelled, shutting him up.

i’m a feminist obviously

but i wouldn’t really mind him saving me

“you.” he spoke with venom. “i’m going to fucking murder your ungrateful little bitch ass” i blinked at the phone in shock.

chris immediately spoke up, comfortingly rubbing my shoulder.

“hey, you’re done talking to her. if you have something to say, you can say it to me” he said.

and i know that i’m fine without a man

but i wouldn’t really mind his protection

“aw, how sweet. you gonna protect her? listen here, you little bitch. i have your address, sleep with one eye-“ chris cut him off.

“hey dickhead, i don’t know what about this you aren’t comprehending, but i’ll say it slower for you.” he slowed down his words, “do not talk to her, talk to me”

“i don’t appreciate being spoken to like a toddler or being cheated on. i-“ chris stopped him again, “listen man, you need to get professional help. she’s not with you, alright? you need to leave her the fuck alone”

there was a pause. “i’ll see you later, princess” jake spoke before hanging up.

i looked at chris with wide eyes, becoming nervous.

“hey, i got you ma. i’m not letting anything happen to you, you know that right?” he asked me, searching my eyes for any sign of doubt.

i nodded my head, “yeah, i just don’t want to feel unsafe in my own home”

i’m just being honest can’t change what i like

i’ll never forget it, he told me one night

he got up, starting to get dressed.

“chris? where are you going?”

“i’m gonna go find him”

“wait, what? chris, how could you possibly do that?”

“don’t worry about it, i’m gonna handle it alright?” he cupped my cheek, running his thumb along my cheek.

“chris” i whispered, becoming worried.

“hey, your safety is my top priority, ok? i’ll be fine ma”

“ok” i whispered, giving him a peck on the cheek.

with that, he left.

“if anybody hurts you..

a few hours had gone by without any word from chris.

upon hearing rapid knocking at my front door, i quickly got up to open it.

when i did, i was met with chris, covered in blood.

“chris? what the hell happened?” i asked, pulling him inside.

“i handled it.”

…i’m going to prison for life”

——————

yup, kinda ate that

dwb! chris masterlist

main masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnsdior @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf

618 notes · View notes

shiggybrainr0t · 6 months

Text

i was going through @willowser writing tag and reading all their stuff, as one does, and found their response to how bakugo would react whenever you tell him about a creepy guy and it got me thinking….yall know that tiktok trend about the fake Dimitri voicemail 💀 this turned out to be 90% domestic katsuki and only 10% him responding to a creepy guy so I’m sorry 😞

divider made by @cafekitsune 🖤

warnings: one fake creepy guy, comment about abuse and anxiety (not from bakugo)

Whenever you walk inside your shared apartment, you make sure to school your face into one of neutrality. You feel like you should know better than to do something like this, but Denki got this little prank into your mind and said he would give you 3,000 yen if you actually did it and well- who are you to turn that down.

Katsuki is sprawled shirtless on your couch, sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips as he snoozes with his arms behind his head. He makes the couch look hilariously tiny, with the way one leg is hanging off the edge and the other is bent just so his torso will fit. You can tell he has just taken a shower by the way his hair is a couple shades darker than normal and sticking about in odd ways. Seeing him there makes you forget about what you were set on doing, and you gaze at his golden form for a minute until you shifting has the floor creaking and one of his eyes opening lazily.

You know that he knew you were here the moment your keys jingled outside the door, but it was you not coming over and immediately plopping on top of him like usual that prompts him to make a grabby hand in your direction, a soft scowl on his face as you continue to stand there.

“Why’re you just standing there?”

His rumbling, sleepy voice breaks you out of your stupor and you continue on your journey towards your boyfriend. Unceremoniously, you drape yourself over his form, making him grunt at the impact even though he was expecting it. It’s muscle memory the way your legs tangle with his, and the way one strong arm wraps around you to grip at the squishy part of your side, all insecurities long lost in the safety of his arms.

His scent surrounds you, the smell of caramelized sugar and his body wash filling your senses, making you wiggle up to place your nose into the crook of his neck. You sniff loudly, giggling when he palms your face to push you away.

“Fuckin’ weirdo.”

After settling, you both bask in each other’s presence for a little while. You’re content to end the evening like this, until Denki’s stupid face flashes through your mind. Nonchalantly, you start to trace little patterns on Katsuki’s smooth chest, saying his name softly. At his responding hum, you start telling your tale.

“You know we have a new neighbor downstairs….” He doesn’t reply, only adjusting his grip on you slightly and raising one blonde eyebrow whenever you look up at him.

“Well, his name is Dimitri and he isn’t from here. He seemed a little lost, and he doesn’t really know anybody yet, so I gave him my number in case he needed help.”

“…..I don’t like where this is going.” Katsuki looks down at you, giving himself a double chin because of the angle. Annoyingly, he’s still gorgeous.

Put on, you sigh and trace “I love you” lightly into his skin. You know he got it, because he buries his nose into your hair and kisses your forehead in response.

“He started calling me a lot, even after I told him I had a boyfriend who could snap him in half-“

“Fuck yeah I could.”

“-and he left me this voicemail that was weird.”

You trail off, and at his raised eyebrows and slight shake of his head saying “well?” grab your phone and pull up the video Denki sent you, making sure the screen isn’t visible and press play.

The grainy sound of a voicemail fills the space, “Dimitri’s” voice starting up quickly.

“It’s Dimitri again. I left you a message a couple days ago. Now here’s the way I work: I don’t like leaving second messages.”

Your boyfriend’s jaw drops slightly at the sudden change of tone in Dimitri’s voice.

As “Dimitri” begins to tell you all his attributes, Katsuki’s face begins to screw up. The list of why “Dimitri” is an amazing guy and why he should be your boyfriend is a long one, and you can see Katsuki becoming more and more irritated as the voicemail continues.

“I’m giving you until 3 o’clock to return my call. I can understand if you’ve got some other issues…like maybe you were abused or you have an anxiety disorder and you’re on medicine for that-“

A warm and calloused hand engulfs yours to turn your phone off. Katsuki gently shoves you off of him, standing up and stretching lightly before turning to you.

“What apartment is he in again?” Your shocked face makes him turn around, quickly putting on some slippers and forgoing a shirt to step out of your apartment and into the hallway.

“I’ll find it.”

He’s already down the hall, bare back tense and cocking his head to the side as he jabs at the elevator buttons whenever you make it off the couch and out the door.

An apartment down, your neighbor perks up when she hears your voice, and goes to peek out her door. Where you are, your hunk of a boyfriend isn’t far behind.

“Kat-Katsuki it was a prank!”

578 notes · View notes

imtryingbuck · 6 months

Text

Too Late.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n’s Steves girlfriend and she’s been taken by Hydra, will he get to her in time? Will she want to go with him if he does?

Word count: 2,237

Warnings: angst. cheating. nat and steve are terrible people. pregnancy. miscarriage. tiny mention of being sick. swearing. ending is terrible sorry.

A/N: women aren’t failures or less of a woman if they have miscarriages, unfortunately and sadly it’s a natural thing.

Part 2

Masterlist

Why he kept doing it was beyond him.

The first time it happened both swore that it was a mistake, second time was a mistake too. The third time was to blow off steam from a rough mission. The fourth time, a mistake.

Now they’ve lost count of how many mistakes there’s been.

They know there’s been too many “this is the last time” before they end up in the same position.

Even though he knew what he was doing was wrong he just couldn’t stop.

When he woke that morning he knew he had fucked up. In the whole time that they’d been fucking he never fell asleep, he always headed home afterwards. He never once woke up with her in his arms. This was intimate, something that they didn’t do. It was just sex. They barely kissed, it was rough, he barely touched her other than her hips or his hand on her head as he pushed her face further into the pillow, further away from his mind - from his guilt.

Finding his phone he jumped up out of the bed his heart in his throat at the 22 missed calls and the one text message. He made her have a number that she would send to him for emergencies. For when she wasn’t or felt safe.

He received the number 4 in-between the many missed calls.

“Shit, baby pick up.” He chanted as he picked his clothes up off the floor and shoving them on in a hurry.

“St-Steve?” A woman’s voice came from the bed.

“Get up. Somethings wrong with Y/n”

“Shit”

Natasha took the sheet to cover herself as she rose from the bed, her too putting her clothes back on in a hurry.

Steve ran out of the room finding the team in the kitchen, Natasha soon following. “H-has Y/n called any of you? Somethings wrong”

Receiving a chorus of no’s his heart plummeted in to the depth of his stomach. Not giving any thought to it he took off running to the garage.

Speeding through the busy streets Steve kept trying to ring Y/n, heart rate going through the roof every time he heard her voicemail. Not even parking the car he jumped out and ran up to their apartment, Bucky and Sam quick on his heels.

“No no no no no” the door was open halfway.

“Y/n? Baby, I’m home…” he tried, Bucky and Sam swore they never heard Steve’s voice sound so small.

Taking small steps into the apartment he has shared with his girlfriend for the past three years he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The grey couch was tipped on its side, cushions once nearly placed on said couch now lay on the floor. Pieces of glass from the photo frames they had hung up, littered the ground. Trinkets and ornaments belonging to Y/n, that took her ages to get a nice collection going was broken on the floor amongst the mess.

But that’s not what caused him to loose his breath, no, it was the small puddle of blood in the middle of their living room, droplets leading to where he stood and behind him.

Bucky made his way around the wall that was Steve and did a sweep of the apartment in signs of his best friends girlfriend. Sam took off in the direction of where Bucky was calling his name. Five minutes later they both emerged from the bedroom, Bucky holding two things in his hands.

“S-Steve…”

“What are they?”

“A phone…and um, a…a pregnancy test.” Bucky stuttered out, his heart pounding violently.

“W-what does the test say?” Nat questioned quietly from behind Steve as she stood with the rest of the Avengers.

“It-its positive”

No one moved as Steve hunched over and puked up.

Just as he was about to stand the phone started ringing. Bucky answered and put it on loud speaker.

“You’ve been a naughty boy Steven so we took your girlfriend. You have less then… ten hours to find her, hopefully she won’t be too mad at you. Hail Hydra” the voice on the other end of the phone chuckled darkly before hanging up.

“What the fuck is going on?” Tony demanded.

“I-I don’t know, we need to find her. I can’t lose her”

“We’ll find her don’t worry” Nat says as she put a comforting hand on his arm, Steve looked at her hand in disgust and yanked his arm away as if she had burned him.

“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again.” Steve growled in her ear quietly, even Bucky didn’t hear.

Her head throbbed, her whole body ached and was sore when she finally came to.

“Ah you’re awake, finally. I’m Conrad and I’ll be here to help you through this very tough time”

“W-where am I?”

“With Hydra darling. Believe it or not but you’re safe, I promise”

“Really? You pricks attacked me and you want me to believe you when you say I’m safe?” She chuckled with a head shake.

“I know, that wasn’t suppose to happen but we didn’t realise that one of Captain Americas girlfriends was so feisty, well we knew one was but not you” he says.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Oh didn’t you know? Weird. Steve has another girlfriend. You know her, Natasha also known as the black widow.”

Her heart cracked but she didn’t believe him, he was a member of Hydra for Christ sake. “Your lying”

“Hold on. Matthews turn the screen on and let’s show our guest where her hero is.”

The bright light from the tv screen she hadn’t even noticed was there, nearly blinded her. Conrad told Matthews to press play, her soul felt like it had died.

There was her boyfriend on six years thrusting in and out of her best friend.

“T-t-turn it o-off”

“No. Look in the right corner where his jeans are, open your eyes and do it Y/n.”

Complying with his order her eyes slowly peeled open and look where he had told her. There on the floor was the jeans she had brought him when he needed some new ones, every few minutes there was a flash.

“Want to know what that is? It’s you, you was ringing him when we came knocking. You was running and hiding ringing for him whilst he was fucking another woman. Matthews fast forward to the best part”

The footage fast forwarded and she saw Steve sleeping and Natasha climbing out of the bed, going to his jeans and picked up his phone she saw all the missed calls but instead of doing anything she put the phone down on the bedside table and climbed back into the bed.

“She’s not very nice is she? She knew you needed him but she didn’t care, that’s not a good friend is it?” Conrad mocked with a chuckle. “D-do you want a drink of water?”

The change in his tone confused her, one minute he was mocking her then in the next he sounded worried.

“H-here, take slow sips. It’s just water, look I’ll take a sip.” He says “see, it’s okay I promise.”

“W-why are you doing this?”

“I’m helping you. I’m not really the bad guy in this Y/n-“

“Why?”

Just as Conrad was about to respond Matthews ran into the room “they’ve arrived”.

“Ah show time”.

“Where is she?” Steve demanded clutching his shield tighter.

“She’s here, didn’t think you’d find us so soon Cap.” Conrad says from where he was stood, a grin on his lips.

“Where is she?” He repeated.

“Bring her in, nicely I don’t want any more harm coming to her”

The team watch as the door comes open from the left side of the room and Y/n came through it with two Hydra agents by her side.

“Doll-“

“How long.” It wasn’t a question but more of a demand.

“What are you talking about?” Steve questions.

Instead of answering him she turned to the others “did you guys know?”

“Know what?” Tony asks.

“Did you know that Steven was fucking Natasha?”

Both Steve and Nat flinch as she calls them by their full names. Natasha slowly backed up as the team looked at the pair.

“D-Doll whatever they’ve told you is a lie”

“I saw it with my own two eyes. How long”

“Doll-“

��A year.”

Steve and Natasha spoke at the same time.

“A…year?”

“It was an accident Y/n/n-“

“Don’t call me that Widow. A year isn’t an accident, did the rest of you know?”

All shook their heads at her question.

“Y/n please, it was a mistake I swear! She means nothing to me.”

Before she could respond Natasha spoke up “I meant nothing to you?”

“No. Please Y/n let’s go home, your pregnant baby”

“Not anymore I’m not. I was two months ago but I lost it, I remember ringing you all night begging you to come home but you never answered a single phone call. Probably with her.” She quickly wiped the fallen tear from her eye as she remembers that night.

The night where her happiness had left her all alone on the bathroom floor, panic raising by the second. Ringing her happiness’s father just for him not to answer, blood flowing down her legs and hands that shook something fierce. She begged and begged for them to come back, promising that she’d do better and be the best mum she could possibly be.

Sadly her happiness had gone away.

Numbly she cleaned up the evidence of her failure, placed the baby onesie she had brought as a present to tell Steve that he was going to be a dad - back in the box it came in, she put the positive pregnancy test in the box along with the sonogram and then neatly placed them in another box, pushing it right to the back of her side of the wardrobe.

Over the next two months whenever she was alone she would take the box out and talk to the sonogram, telling the tiny bean that she loved them. She knew she should of told Steve but she had no idea how to bring the conversation up, she couldn’t bare to see his face light up when she said she was pregnant just to see it fade away when she told him that she had failed as a woman and that it was no longer with them.

To her she was protecting him by keeping it away from him.

“But it doesn’t matter now does it? You guys can fuck off now.”

“No no Y/n please we can figure this out-“

“No. There’s no figuring anything out. You betrayed me, you! I didn’t do anything wrong! You don’t love me no more? Break up with me! You wanted to get your dick wet by some bitch that wasn’t me? Break up with me!” Her voice got louder as she went on stepping further towards him, standing in front of him she felt sick at the devastating look in his eyes.

“I asked Conrad to kill me” she smile sadly at him “you guys need to go now-“

“Y/n baby please I’m sorry, I can be bet-“

“Don’t humiliate me even more please, I’ve wanted this for a while now so please just leave”

Steve opens his mouth but shuts it quickly when the agents of Hydra points their guns at him and his team.

Y/n walks back over to Conrad who leads her through the door they came through. The last thing the Avengers hear is the deafening bang they were all familiar with.

In the two years that had passed since he lost Y/n, Steve stayed far away from Natasha.

The team had only recently begun talking to the pair again, they had lost a friend and to them it was Natasha’s and Steve’s fault.

Steve missed Y/n more than anything, sleep didn’t come easy to him not now not when the memories of his betrayal was always there as a constant reminder. Not when all he remembers is the pure devastation look in her eyes or how her hand glazed over her stomach when she spoke about their baby that they lost - a baby that he did not know anything about.

He had no one to blame other than himself for every time he hears a gunshot he’s transported back to that day he lost everything. Lost his world.

On the other side of the world in a woodland area away from the civilised society sat a lonely small farmhouse, surrounded by a large fence to keep the farm animals inside.

Y/n emerged from the wooden door with a small smile on her face, dressed in her dark blue dungarees that wore a deep green stain on the knees.

She didn’t lie when she said she had asked Conrad to kill her and he had agreed, when they went into the hallway she had fully prepared herself for the bullet to come, to end her life instead the bullet zoomed past her head and lodged itself in the wall.

“I’m not going to kill you Y/n, I-I want to help you leave but you need to stay quiet okay”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not much of a bastard, come on we don’t have long”

Now in the two years since she had left she finally felt at peace, she found herself.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

463 notes · View notes

ginnsbaker · 16 days

Text

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (12/?)

Part Summary: You know Leigh well enough to recognize that she never acts without intention. She must have agonized about this too—about that kiss, about you. And she's making it difficult for you to guess just what conclusions she had come to in the time you were apart.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.500+ | Warnings: Smut | Author's note: I honestly don't know what else to write in the summary without giving too much away, so without further ado… P.S. No cliffhangers this time ;)

A week after Thanksgiving, as the icy Maine wind whips across the tarmac at Rockland Airport, you find yourself holding a container of lobster cakes—your mother's way of sending a piece of home back with you. Despite her protests about you cutting your visit short, she spent last night in the kitchen, crafting your favorite dish, the smell of butter and ocean filling the house. “Eat these when you miss home,” she had said, pressing the container into your hands with a sad smile. The decision to leave early was anything but easy.

You initially planned to stay five more days in Camden, but Leigh's radio silence prompted you to book a direct flight to Los Angeles. It was eating you up inside; you had to go back. The familiar dark screen of your phone kept you on edge; you hadn't expected Leigh to strictly follow through on her promise not to contact you. She had a way of doing the unexpected. Or maybe you've been so wrapped up in your thoughts that you underestimated how deeply she wanted you that night. And perhaps you've overestimated your own anger, believing it would even slightly lessen your feelings for her.

Sitting in the window seat with the whole row to yourself, you stare at your phone as the flight attendant's voice crackles over the intercom, signaling it's time to switch to airplane mode. Impulsively, you tap out a text to her.

Belated Happy Thanksgiving, Leigh. If you’re free tomorrow evening, maybe we could talk? Perhaps over dinner?

It’s straightforward, maybe too much so, but it’s sent before you can overthink it.

The flight attendant's voice fills the cabin once more, reminding everyone to switch their devices as the plane is about to take off. You comply, toggling the setting and sealing off any immediate replies. The engines roar to life, and as the plane ascends, you try to push away the knot of apprehension tightening in your stomach.

As you wait to fall asleep, you think about Leigh—whether she’s seen your message and what she might be feeling. You wonder about the time apart, recalling the old saying that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Or does it make it forget instead?

You touch down in L.A. just as the date ticks over to December 1st, the clock a little past midnight. The moment the plane reaches the gate, you grab your phone and switch off airplane mode. There's a message from your mom, checking in to see if you've landed safely, and you text her back to let her know you did. Suzie has also texted, saying Foreman called in sick and asking if you can cover at the clinic later. You shoot back a quick reply, saying you just landed, you'll catch some sleep, and might be in late in the morning.

But there’s nothing from Leigh. No text, no missed call, nothing to indicate she received your message or is interested in meeting.

You sigh and, without thinking, tap her name on the screen. The call goes through, and the phone rings as you make your way through the late-night crowd at LAX. It continues ringing, unanswered, until it finally clicks over to voicemail. You mutter a soft curse under your breath. Of course, she's not going to pick up—it's 12:30 in the morning. You consider sending a quick apology text but then reconsider, figuring you've already pushed enough boundaries by calling her this late.

Instead, you slide your phone back into your pocket and head toward baggage claim. You weave through the half-awake travelers and the sterile glow of the airport lights, finally spotting your suitcase trundling along the carousel. You heft it off and make your way through the automatic doors. You glance one more time at your phone, half hoping for a notification, but it's blank. With a sigh, you head for the exit, feeling the exhaustion settle in.

You check your inbox first thing in the morning, but there's still nothing from Leigh. You don't have time to overanalyze this again because you're already running late for work.

The whole day is swamped, with emergencies piling up alongside a packed schedule of immunizations and follow-ups. Suzie mistakenly booked an entire week's worth of scheduled vaccines for today, a Saturday. She explains that the clients requested to move their appointments to the weekend, adding, “We're closed on Sundays, so I thought today would work.”

You try to hide your frustration, not wanting to lay the blame on her. Your nerves are already frayed, and every hour that passes without a word from Leigh has you feeling more on edge. As you tend to your patients and give instructions to the staff, you feel the pressure building, a headache beginning to throb behind your eyes. The never-ending stream of clients leaves you with no time to catch your breath. Between each appointment, you plaster on a polite smile, but inside, you're counting down the minutes until you can check out of, well, everything.

As the clock hits seven, you can't take another minute. The clinic has been a madhouse since the doors opened. You barely glance at Suzie as you callously tell her, “Close early. I'm tired.” Without waiting for her response, you trudge straight to your office and slump into your chair, eyes closed against the harsh fluorescent lights. Resting your head back, you exhale slowly, letting the tension drain from your shoulders. The fatigue wraps itself around you like a fog, and for a moment, everything falls away.

A few minutes later, you hear a gentle knock. It's Suzie, standing in the doorway with a paper in her hand. Without opening your eyes, you mutter, “What is it?” Your irritation seeps through, but you’re too drained to rein it in.

Suzie hesitates before stepping into your office, her expression unreadable. She extends the paper towards you. “It's my resignation letter,” she says quietly.

Your eyes snap open, and the paper feels heavier than it should as you take it from her hands. You’ve been nothing short of awful to her all day, snapping at every turn.

“Is this about today?” you ask.

She gives you a small, weary smile and points to the date on the letter. “I wrote this last week, right after you left for Maine.”

You glance down at the letter and see that it’s dated exactly a week ago. “Why didn’t you give it to me sooner?”

“I didn��t want to ruin your vacation,” she says softly. “I know how much you needed that break. And honestly, you’ve got enough on your plate right now without me adding to it.”

You can feel the burn of frustration and shame behind your eyes. “You’ve been a rock here, Suzie. I don’t want you to go. Please reconsider.”

She shakes her head gently. “I’ve thought this through. It’s time. I care about this place, and about you, but I need to move on.”

You let out a long breath. “I see. Still, I'm sorry today was so rough,” you say, looking up at her wistfully. You try working your puppy eyes, and for a moment it seems effective as her expression softens into a frown.

But then she says, “It’s not the clinic or the work I do here. I got an offer for a research position; it's something I've always wanted to try.”

That makes you smile. If that’s the case, then you’re truly happy for her.

“I understand. I wish you hadn't felt the need to keep this to yourself, especially with everything else happening today,” you say, still clutching the paper tightly in your hand, crumpling it slightly.

Suzie shrugs. “I didn't want to add to your stress. Don’t worry, I’ll count the 30 days' notice from today, not the date on my resignation, so you have time to find someone to replace me.”

From that, you know her mind’s already made up. As you read her letter again, your eyes start to sting. You glance back up at her, your vision blurring. “Suzie, thank you,” you mumble thickly.

“Hey, it's okay,” she says gently. “I'm not leaving town. We can still grab lunch whenever. I know how glued to your desk you get, so I'll drag you out for a bite now and then.” You let out a shaky chuckle, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

“It's just—I’m going to miss you, and I don’t know how I'll replace you,” you say with a sniffle.

“Missing me is a given,” she says, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Actually, I might know someone interested in my job.”

Your ears perk up at that. Good help is hard to find these days, especially with more demands from applicants and a tight job market. “Who?” you ask, curious.

Suzie turns around as if she's going to leave without answering, but then she glances over her shoulder, her smirk widening. “Sara.”

A little while later, you catch Suzie just as she's finishing up in the lobby.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll lock up. You’ve done enough today,” you say, sending her home. She gives you a grateful smile, slings her bag over her shoulder, and wishes you a good night before heading out.

Finally alone, you take a moment to decompress. Clasping your hands behind your back, you stretch, trying to release the day's tension. A dull ache climbs up your spine, reminding you how tight your muscles are. Unable to hold the position for more than a few seconds, you relax, the discomfort too much to bear. It's hard to tell whether it's from the long-haul flight yesterday, your age creeping up on you, poor posture, or all of the above.

On a whim, you book a late-night yoga session at the Beautiful Beast, hoping to relieve the tightness in your back. It’s been a while since your last visit.

Afterward, you head to the small bathroom in your office to get ready. It's basic, not meant for much more than washing hands and changing scrubs, but it’s all you've got. Stripping off your day's clothes, you step into the shower, letting the hot water beat down on your back. The steam fills the tiny space, and the heat melts a bit of the stiffness away. After a quick rinse, you towel off and slip into your yoga gear. The stretchy fabric feels liberating after being in stiff work clothes all day. You roll up your yoga mat, tucked behind the office door, and switch off the bathroom light.

As you're about to head out of the clinic, you check your phone, hoping to see something from Leigh. There's nothing—she hasn’t even read your last message. The stonewalling feels all too familiar, and you're tired of it.

You slide into your car, letting out a weary sigh. As you start the engine, thoughts of Suzie's suggestion to hire Sara sneak back into your mind. You can't help but chortle at the idea—it’s so unexpected, almost comical, considering how you know Sara and her standing friends-with-benefits proposition. It feels far-fetched, and knowing Suzie, she was likely just teasing.

The drive to the fitness studio is as mechanical as it gets. You're hardly aware of the turns you take until you park in front of the building. You step out, mind still elsewhere, and open your car door—right into someone walking by.

“Ow!”

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—” you start to say, cutting yourself off when you see who it is.

Leigh, of all people, is rubbing her elbow, wincing. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, and she’s wearing a plain white shirt under a jacket, paired with simple black tights.

“See me? Lovely excuse,” she quips, her eyes fixed on her arm rather than you. Her expression is primed to unleash more frustration when she finally turns to meet the source of the blunder.

“I—” Leigh stops, visibly surprised to see you. Quickly, her face smooths into something more neutral. “Y/N. You…you really should watch it.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. “Are you alright?”

She rubs her elbow once more, then nods slowly. “Just startled me a bit, but I’m fine.”

Once you both regain your bearings, you unconsciously begin rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, hesitating despite the things you’ve rehearsed in your head all week. Your text message inviting her to meet tonight lingers at the forefront of your mind. But before you can bring it up, Leigh catches you by surprise.

“So, you’re heading in for a class?” she asks casually, as if the last time you saw each other didn’t end with a kiss and a confrontation that put the aforementioned kiss on hold.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I am,” you reply. Then you remember Leigh doesn't work here anymore, but with her mother owning the place, it's no surprise to see her around occasionally.

Still, you ask, “How about you?”

“You mind if we walk while we talk?” Leigh suggests.

You nod, a little thrown off but managing to say, “Sure, just let me grab my stuff.”

She waits a few seconds as you gather your belongings, and then you both start walking toward the building. Leigh sets a brisk pace, always a step ahead, and you find yourself almost hurrying to keep up with her.

“I just got back to working here again,” she says after a beat.

Surprised, you ask, “Oh, how did that happen?”

“Long story,” she replies with a slight shrug, her eyes focused ahead.

Unsatisfied with her vague answer, your eyes drift to her lips. Memories of that last kiss flood back—their soft, velvety feel and that distinct taste that’s all hers, like fresh water after a long, grueling hike. It's a taste that's unmistakably Leigh, nothing else like it. As you walk together, you struggle to stay present. This isn’t at all how you pictured your reunion with her would go. Not by a long shot.

“Leigh,” you call out, stopping abruptly. Your voice comes out higher than intended, quivering a bit. You clear your throat and try again, “D-Did you get my text yesterday?”

Leigh glances back over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. “No.”

The bluntness leaves you momentarily stunned. You wait for her to follow up, to ask about the text, but she doesn’t. As you both step into the Beautiful Beast studio, you start to ask if you can talk later, but Leigh gets there first.

“We can pick this up later, Y/N. We should really get to class,” she says, heading into the room full of waiting students without waiting for your answer.

You're left more stumped than ever. Last time, she was almost on her knees, begging for forgiveness. Now, she's acting like nothing happened. How did everything change so much in just a week? With a head full of questions and doubts, you roll out your yoga mat and try to focus on the practice ahead. You can't help but wonder if the kiss you shared with Leigh really happened or if it was just a mirage of your desires.

You struggle through some of the poses, wobbling and nearly toppling over more than once. Leigh, however, doesn't chide or correct you as she used to; she mostly leaves you alone, focusing instead on helping others who are struggling more than you. It makes you feel strangely isolated, even though you know she's just fulfilling her role as an instructor and there are plenty of beginners in tonight’s session.

As the hour winds down, Leigh's soft “Namaste” signals the end of the class. She bows gracefully to the students, and you don't waste a moment, rising immediately to make your way to her as she rolls up her mat.

“Leigh.”

“Hey,” she responds breathlessly, not looking up. Other students pass by, thanking her, and she responds with smiles and cheerful “see you next times.” You stand there, feeling awkward as you wait for a turn.

When the last person leaves, Leigh finally looks up at you. “What's up?” she asks.

You find yourself stuttering, still fixated on the text message. Feeling a bit pathetic about how much it’s affecting you, but you shake it off, remembering why you cut your visit to Camden short. It was because of this—because of her.

“Leigh, can we talk? About... you know, how we left things that night?”

Her face remains jarringly impartial as she wipes down her mat. “Talk? Here? Right now?”

You quickly shake your head. “No, I don't mean right this second,” you clarify, watching her closely to gauge her reaction. Are you the only one feeling like you're on a tightrope?

“You haven't had dinner yet, right?” You try to sound nonchalant too, but it's a struggle.

She looks around the emptying studio as if she needs a moment to consider. After a few beats, she nods. “Sure, why not? I’ll just change and meet you out front.”

You can't help but smile, mainly out of relief that she said yes. “Great, see you in a minute,” you say, realizing you need to change into drier clothes too.

Fifteen minutes later, Leigh steps out, looking refreshed as if she didn't just burn through a few hundred calories leading a rigorous yoga session. She's wearing a cozy gray sweater and cargo pants, a much more laid-back look compared to your jeans and cardigan.

As she draws near, she tilts her head slightly and says, “I actually brought a car. Have you thought of where we're going to get dinner?”

You scramble to think of a suitable place. In-N-Out pops into your head—quick, easy, but completely wrong for the kind of talk you need to have. You can't imagine hashing out your feelings under the harsh lights of a fast food place, over burgers and fries.

“Um,” you stammer, looking around like inspiration might hit you in the face.

“How about we head to your apartment?” Leigh suggests out of nowhere. “It's closer, and we could grab some drive-thru on the way.”

You blink at her suggestion, surprised she'd even consider it after everything that went down last time at your place.

“There's only one parking spot,” you say blankly. “And the street has no parking after 10 p.m.”

Leigh seems unfazed, offering a quick solution. “Then we’ll just take your car. I can leave mine here.”

Your nerves flare at the thought of having her back in your apartment. Your tongue feels heavy, and you can't think of a single reason to tell her why it’s a bad idea.

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Let's do that.”

You head to your car together, fumbling with the keys as you unlock it. Leigh slips into the passenger seat, and you take a deep breath before starting the engine. You pull into a drive-thru of In-N-Out and Leigh scrolls through her phone, picking out what to order.

You know Leigh well enough to recognize that she never acts without intention. She must have agonized about this too—about that kiss, about you. And she's making it difficult for you to guess just what conclusions she had come to in the time you were apart.

The takeout is spread across your dining table, a small feast that Leigh ordered for the two of you. Boxes of fries, nuggets, and burgers crowd the surface, enough to feed a group. You barely nibble on a fry while Leigh is already finishing her cheeseburger, wiping her fingers with a napkin and eyeing the remaining food.

“You weren’t hungry, huh?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Guess not,” you reply, wiping away the residual salt from your fingers.

Leigh takes a sip of her drink, washing down the last bite before looking at you with purpose. “Mind if I go first?” she asks.

You narrow your eyes. So, she's eager to dive right in. “Sure, go ahead,” you say. You observe Leigh closely for the first time in what feels like ages. Concealer cakes beneath her eyes, settling into the natural wrinkles there. She’s still undeniably beautiful, but there's a tiredness to her now that’s hard to miss. Her cheeks, usually lifted by her prominent cheekbones, seem hollowed out more than usual.

“I guess I want to start by saying that I'm…” Leigh trails off, her eyes darting around as if the right words might be hidden among the packets of ketchup and silverware. “...a horrible person.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she cuts you off smoothly.

“No, listen. You were right. I ignore you out of nowhere. I take advantage of your kindness. And it’s not just you—I’ve been doing this with everyone around me for a while now. I haven't cared about what others think or feel because I was focused on being true to myself, always playing the ‘dead husband’ card. I’ve taken everyone's patience and understanding for granted, and I’m really, really sorry.”

You sit back, stunned. The whole evening, you'd braced for a different kind of conversation. You expected Leigh to say the kiss was a mistake—just a result of nerves or a lapse in judgment driven by jealousy. You had been so sure she'd shut you down, just like all the other times.

“You're sorry?” The words slip out unbidden, tinged with surprise and skepticism.

“Yeah,” she says, looking you square in the eye. “I know it's hard to believe, but I really am sorry for how I've treated you.”

It’s going well—too well. Your mind struggles to accept it, but your heart?

“I thought you were going to say that night was a mistake. That the kiss meant nothing,” you whisper so faintly, almost as if you don't want her to hear.

“It kept me up for nights,” Leigh replies just as softly, “and that doesn’t usually happen to me over a simple kiss.”

Your heart soars.

She doesn’t regret it. She’s sorry. This is all going too well.

“It was on my mind the whole time, even when I was all the way across the country,” you whisper wantonly.

The corners of Leigh’s lips twitch upward, and you can't tell if it's a good sign. Her saying she’s just as affected blinds you to any other cues that might suggest otherwise.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” Leigh says darkly, leaning back into her chair with a weary slump. “Because I’m done living in half-truths and half-realities. I can’t handle any more surprises.”

You feel a flash of confusion, trying to stitch together what Leigh might say next. She knows about your cheesy alter-ego on her advice column, the details of your past with Matt. But half-truths? What does she mean by that?

Leigh meets your gaze, and there’s something about her stare that tells you she’s coming apart, yet she's clenching every muscle to keep herself intact. You want to reach across the table, to offer a touch that might steady her, but her hands are hidden, clenched in her lap beneath the table. Her shoulders hunch, making her seem smaller, as if she's trying to fold into herself.

“Leigh, just tell me,” you urge, though not impatiently.

She exhales slowly, the breath you hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I broke up with Danny,” she finally says, and for a brief, absurd moment, relief washes over you.

That's…it?

Your smile starts to form, naive in its inception, but it’s quickly stifled as Leigh’s voice drops lower, and her next words cut through the nascent joy.

“And then he said something I didn't think could drive the dagger Matt left in my heart any deeper,” she says slowly, like she’s having a hard time dragging every syllable.

Leigh takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling deliberately. “He told me he was pretty involved when you and Matt got together. That you first knew him as Nick, and he helped Matt reach out to you.”

Your heart sinks. You had almost forgotten that night with Danny when you discovered his real identity and how he fit into everything. He'd begged you to keep quiet, and in his desperation, you agreed—not because he pleaded, but because you believed Leigh was happy with him. It wasn’t your secret to reveal, not then.

You've known this all along and never said a word. Your throat tightens as panic sets in, your heart racing with the implications of having kept this from Leigh. Guilt pricks at you, cold and sharp.

“I…” Your voice falters, and you swallow hard, thinking, This is it, this is how I lose her.

“I didn’t think it was my place to say anything,” you say. “I thought you were happy with him. I didn’t want to be the one to—”

“Y/N,” Leigh interjects softly. Her tone stops you cold—it's not angry, just… defeated. Which, somehow, feels worse. She looks down, twisting a napkin between her fingers. “I’m telling you this because I’m finding out that secrets can be just as hard to handle as loss.”

You nod absentmindedly, still processing, and move to clear the table in a daze. Wrapping up the leftover food, you tuck it into the fridge. The mundane task doesn't ease the tightness in your chest, but it gives your hands something to do.

“You’re not upset I didn’t tell you?” you ask, like you can’t believe you’ll come out of this conversation unscathed.

Leigh takes her time to answer. With your focus on tidying up, you miss the way her hands ball into fists. When she finally speaks, her voice has a steely edge for the first time this evening.

“At first, I was livid, of course. But Danny bore the brunt of it. He claimed he wanted me, but he was never on my side. If he were, he would’ve never helped Matt cheat on me.”

You finish tucking the last container into the fridge and lean back against the counter, your eyes on Leigh. She's staring out the window. How is it that she’s telling you these things, yet it still feels like she’s not revealing anything at all?

“I should’ve told you sooner,” you say softly. “I’m sorry.”

Leigh gets up and walks toward you. She stops so close that your breath catches. You remember the last time she was this near, how the world blurred, and how hard it was to think clearly. You can see the way her jaw tightens as she takes a breath.

“It wasn’t your secret to tell,” she says.

“But—” you start to say, though the thought fizzles out as she steps even closer.

“You're okay in that regard,” she murmurs, her voice low.

In that regard?

You want to ask what she means, but Leigh shuffles nearer still, her eyes searching your face. She's so close now that you can see the faint reflection of the kitchen light in her eyes, specs of yellow in darkened green. It’s nothing short of dazzling.

“Do you forgive me for last time?” she asks quietly.

A lump forms in your throat, and all you can think about is how desperately you don't want to mess this up. You had forgiven her long before stepping onto a plane back to Maine. It happened as soon as you let her walk away that night, but you just couldn't accept how easy it was.

You nod, unable to trust your ability to speak.

Leigh's eyes soften as she watches you. Her fingertips brush against your jaw, her touch feather-light.

“Is it okay if I kiss you, then?” she asks, both careful and seductive.

Your resounding yes comes in the form of you closing the gap, your lips meeting hers like an arrow striking its target. Leigh’s arms wrap around your shoulders instinctively, her fingers brushing the back of your neck, and you pull her in even tighter, deepening the kiss. Her breath mingles with yours as she sighs softly against your mouth, and it’s only then that when you feel all of her that Los Angeles starts to feel like a second home.

There are still questions, an unending list that always surfaces around Leigh, but they evaporate one by one when her tongue flicks out, seeking entrance. You surrender, lips parting, allowing her to taste you. The kiss grows with a messy urgency in seconds. Her hands roam down your back, gripping tightly as she presses in, as if trying to melt into you. You draw her nearer, your chests flush together as the kiss becomes wet and breathless.

Your apartment is silent except for your soft pants and the slick sounds of your lips meeting. Doubts about your ability to please a woman creep in after such a long hiatus. But before these thoughts can take hold, Leigh takes charge. She grabs your hips and gently guides you backward toward the bedroom, cutting off any chance for you to slow things down.

She breaks the kiss just long enough to slip your cardigan off your shoulders and whisper, her breath warm against your lips, “Should we take this somewhere more comfortable?”

It seems almost unfair for her to pose that question while simultaneously moving to your neck, drawing a soft groan from you. Her teeth gently graze a sensitive spot just below your clavicle, applying pressure that promises to leave a mark, then soothing it with her tongue.

Leigh smirks when she feels you struggle for breath, much less for words. Your knees buckle slightly, but she holds you up with a firm grip, guiding you back until you bump against the edge of the bed.

You know you're on the verge of something that might change everything, but right now, you're entirely Leigh's. There's no space to consider the implications, to remember that she was Matt's grieving widow just months ago. Right now, she's just the girl who holds your attention completely, the one who couldn't get rid of you even if she tried.

Leigh tumbles with you onto the bed, her thighs straddling your hips. With practiced ease, she removes her shirt and bra all at once, leaving her bare above you. The sight strips you of any last coherent thought. She isn’t the image of perfection peddled in glossy and well-curated social feeds; her body is beautifully real. Her tits look heavy and asymmetrical, round as grapefruit; her nipples pinkish-brown, pebbled and inviting. There’s a soft fold in her belly, and an overwhelming desire washes over you to kiss it. You think you might die just from looking at her.

You look up at Leigh and tell her, reverently, “You’re so devastatingly beautiful.”

Leigh's cheeks flush as she tries to hide her smile behind her hair. “You don't have to tell me that,” she whispers. “You already got me into your bed.”

You chuckle, nerves still humming under the surface. “You were just as beautiful when devouring a cheeseburger.” Both of you laugh, the sound light and easy, allowing some of the thick sexual energy to dissipate slightly.

You find yourself relaxing just enough to admit, “I'm not sure how to touch you right, but I want to make you feel good.”

“Just do whatever feels good for you,” she suggests, her expression softening further.

You scrunch your face a little at her, letting out a small chuckle. “That’s the thing—I haven't been getting much action myself.”

Leigh’s smile spreads wider into something mischievous and you swallow dryly at the sight. She shifts off your lap and settles at your side, propping herself up on one arm to look down at you. “Let me help you with that,” she murmurs, her voice low.

You're no longer smiling, feeling your face flush as you ask, “What do you have in mind?”

Instead of answering, Leigh’s fingers trace down to the button of your pants, deftly unfastening it. She gently scratches the skin beneath with her fingernail before sliding the zipper down. You watch as she bites her lip at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear before glancing back up at you. Her pupils are wide, the deep green of her irises barely visible in the surrounding darkness.

“Take them off,” she instructs softly.

You swallow heavily and do as she says, trying not to cover yourself despite feeling incredibly vulnerable. You haven't been naked in front of anyone in so long, and you're embarrassed by how exposed and wet you are right now.

Leigh watches you closely, and you can see the desire burning in her gaze. With her free hand, she reaches for you, her touch gentle, coaxing your thighs open as she trails her fingers up your inner thigh. You draw a sharp breath and close your eyes, expecting her fingers to graze your wetness next.

But Leigh surprises you—and herself—by guiding your right hand just below your navel, her fingers warm and sure on your wrist. Her times with Danny were about dominating and taking, but with you, she wants to give, to watch, to soak up every moan, every breathy reaction, every shiver. She wants to see you take pleasure for yourself, deriving her own pleasure from it.

“Start there,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear. “Tease yourself.”

Your hand hovers there, and she gives a slight nod of encouragement. As her touch slips away, you begin to explore the softness of your own skin, tracing light circles below your belly button. You utter a soft, “Fuck,” when your fingertips graze your slick, discovering just how turned on you really are. The filthy noises it creates make you whimper.

Leigh watches you hungrily. “You should be doing this more often,” she murmurs, eyes tracing the movement of your fingers now glistening with your own arousal. “You're so fucking hot. It's such a shame.”

The sound of her voice makes you arch your back further, hips bucking as you start a wide circular motion against your clit. Exerting every ounce of control not to come right away, you focus on the sensation of Leigh's eyes on you and the stimulation from your own fingers. You want to hold out, to let her watch you teeter on the edge. Your teeth dig into your lower lip, trying to curb the wave of pleasure building inside you.

Leigh's voice is a soothing command, whispering, “That's it, be patient. Don't rush it.”

“Fuck, Leigh, I’m—” Your words die in your throat as she lifts your shirt slowly, exposing your nipple to the cool air for a brief moment before her mouth engulfs it. The sensation of her sucking, then laving your nipple with her tongue, circling it, mimicking the motion you're doing on your clit, sends a jolt through you. Little flicks of her tongue to the tip of your nipple drive you crazy, and you gasp, your body responding eagerly to her touch.

Your rhythm stutters as she discards her pants and panties in one swift motion, leaving her gloriously bare. The sight of her naked body ignites a strong wave of desire to touch her instead, but Leigh pins you with a warning glare, silently telling you not to stop.

She straddles one of your legs, and you gasp when you feel her warm, wet pussy against your knee as she starts rocking against it. You position your leg to give her better leverage, and she starts sliding against you, her tits bouncing with each motion. Leigh's sucking on your nipple becomes sloppier, more frantic, until she can no longer concentrate and releases it with a wet pop.

“Oh, fuck, Y/N—”

Leigh’s face contorts in pleasure as her drenched folds meet your thigh over and over, sweat dripping down between her breasts from the strain of holding herself up above you. The sight of her fucking herself against your leg is nothing short of mesmerizing. You increase the movements of your fingers, rubbing harshly at your clit as you watch Leigh, her breath coming in short gasps. Her eyes flutter closed, and a soft moan escapes her lips. The sound drives you wild, and you curve your spine, lifting your hips to meet your own hand.

Sex with anyone else has never felt this good before, and she hasn’t even properly touched you yet. It’s intoxicating, the way she takes her pleasure and gives it to you all at once. You’re lost in the haze of it all: the smell of Leigh’s arousal, her sweat-soaked skin, the sight of her tits bouncing and her face flushed with desire.

With your free hand, you grab the back of Leigh's head, guiding her down towards you. “C-Come here,” you manage to say, your voice breaking with need.

Leigh obeys, her mouth meeting yours in a frenzied kiss. You swallow each other's moans, the taste of her lips sending a fresh wave of desire coursing through you. It's this simple, sweet connection of lips that utterly dissolves all your defenses.

A keening moan escapes you as Leigh slides a finger inside you, pushing deep to the third knuckle, causing your head to tip back and break the kiss as the tightness in your belly becomes too much. “Leigh, can I—” Your voice is a mere whisper, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.

Leigh's eyes meet yours, and she nods vigorously, her breath coming in short gasps. “Yes, come. Come with me.”

It's too much—the sight, the sounds, the feel of her—it’s all too much. With a final, shuddering whine, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you. Your body convulses, muscles clenching and releasing as you ride out the intense pleasure. Moments later, Leigh follows, her body shaking as she comes, her moans mingling with yours. Leigh’s face is a picture of bliss, her eyes half-closed, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. You try to memorize it before she collapses on top of you, a sweaty mess of tangled limbs and satisfied sighs.

Blindly, you stare up at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath, feeling Leigh's hot puffs of air tickle your neck as she catches hers. Slowly, you circle your arms around her waist, keeping her on top of you, acutely aware of every point where your skin meets hers, the warmth spreading between you.

You bury your nose in her hair and breathe in deeply. This act feels more intimate than anything you had done moments ago. The simple closeness, the quiet afterglow, the way you can actually feel her heart beating steadily against your chest.

Minutes pass in comfortable silence, your thumb tracing lazy patterns on her back. Her breathing gradually evens out, each exhale growing softer and deeper. Realizing she's fallen asleep, a contented smile spreads across your face. You press a gentle kiss to her temple, letting your lips linger there for a moment. Carefully, you reach for the covers and draw them over both of you. You hold her close until your own eyelids grow heavy, and you drift off to sleep as well.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

395 notes · View notes

jjunberry · 2 months

Text

can i be your boyfriend?

pairing! seo changbin x fem! reader

genre! angst with fluffy ending

synopsis! when changbin keeps his feelings for his bestfriend a secret until his friends tease a confession out of him

wc! 940

changbin’s eyes followed your figure. you were dancing around the kitchen with felix making brownies. he loved how well you got a long with his friends. “you make it so obvious dude it’s kind of sad.” jisung spoke. changbin glared at the boy. “make what obvious?” he asked. “that you like her.” chan budded in. jisung laughed at changbin’s shocked face. “i-i do not.” he tried to defend himself he did. however he couldn’t deny the flutter of his heart and the butterflies in his stomach.

“why don’t you just tell her?” chan asked. changbin was quiet. “i can’t.” jisung rolled his eyes at the boy. “and why not?” changbin shrugged his shoulders. “because it’s not true.” he yelled gaining the attention of the rest of the household. “what’s not true?” felix asked curious. “apparently changbin hyung’s feelings for our y/nie.” jeongin answered from having been eavesdropping on the conversation.

your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. changbin caught your eyes before you quickly turned your attention back to the brownie batter. “don’t mind them y/n they’re being stupid.” changbin tried. you let out a small laugh. “yeah of course silly boys.” you dumped the batter into the baking dish. changbin caught onto your off putting attitude. you were quiet and moved away from his tries for cuddles during the movie.

changbin felt like an asshole.

since that night you haven’t answered his phonecalls. ignored his text messages. didn’t respond to his dms. changbin was pretty sure you blocked his phone number. it was quite the opposite though. you listened to every voice mail, read every text, and dm. you still had his number favorited your phone. it hurt to hear him apologizing for something and he didn’t even know what he did wrong.

you had enough of his constant phone calls and your voicemail was full. you gripped your phone and hit the green answer button. “what?” you snapped. “y/n? what has gotten into you? you ignore me for weeks then get nasty when you finally do answer. what’s going on?” he sounded tired. you sighed. “i don’t really want to talk about it.” the temptation to hang up was eating at you, but your heart wanted to hear him out.

“well i want to. i think i deserve to know why my best friend is ignoring me.” changbin sighed deeply and you heard rustling as he moved positions in what you could only assume was his bed. “please.” he pleaded. it was your turn to sigh. “changbin do you have any idea why?” you couldn’t bring yourself to just openly say ‘hey i like you and it hurt my feelings when you said you’d never see me that way.’

“no, i just know i hurt you and i’d like to know what i can do to make it better, to make us better.”

you couldn’t help the scoff that left you. “you don’t even know what you did. changbin i like you but you’d never see me that way.” you seethed. unable to hide the heartbreak any further. “w-what?” he was speechless. his heart was beating out of his chest. you liked him back? before he had the chance to plead his case the call ended.

you took his silence as confirmation of your feelings being unrequited.

it took changbin all of ten minutes to get from the dorm to your apartment. your sobs covered the door bell so he used his key to get in, the key he promised to only use in emergencies. to changbin you crying was always an emergency. a major one since the tears were over him.

he quickly made his way to your room, were you were in a ball under the blankets. he seen your figure shaking and the sound of your sobs shattered the last few pieces of his heart. “y/n.” he spoke softly. you jumped and pulled the blanket off your head. even with your hair sticking up in different directions and your eyes swollen and puffy, you were still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

“changbin w-what are you doing here?” your voice was shaky. changbin took a few steps before sitting next to you on the bed. “y/n you never even let me reply.” he started but you cut him off. “sorry i didn’t want to hear you reject me.” you seethed flopping down and pulling the blanket over yourself once again.

“will you let me finish please?” he sighed. you shrugged under the covers. changbin placed his hand on your hip and rubbed your leg comfortingly. “before you hung up on me, i was going to tell you that i like you too, not even i love you.” you peeked out from the blanket and looked at changbin who already had his eyes on you.

“you do?” you asked. “yeah i do.” he replied. you sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck. changbin gripped your hips and pulled you onto his lap. his hands slipped under your shirt and he caressed your skin. you locked your hands around his neck. your forehead rested against his. “y/n i love you so much.” he whispered. his lips brushing against yours. “i love you too.” you finally connected your lips to his.

changbin’s grip on your hips tightened and he pulled you closer to him. “y/n?” he asked as you pulled apart. “yeah.” you mumbled chasing his lips after the kiss. “can i be your boyfriend?” you giggled smacking his chest before capturing his lips against yours again. “yes.”

requested! by @dinossaurz

tag list! @304files @jjunieworld

author’s note! ahh my first (official) skz fic i’m so happy to be writing for them tysm for requesting

masterlist

love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

325 notes · View notes

upon-a-starry-night · 2 months

Text

Number Neighbors Epilogue

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 719

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

“And here I am thinking ‘Oh god I’m going to be kidnapped by an angry-looking puppy dog-” The people around you laugh as you tell this story for probably the twentieth time. However, one very unamused-looking puppy dog who is sitting in the corner does not laugh.

“Meanwhile I’m just trying to figure out why my potential kidnapper is buying so many plums”

Bucky groans as the rest of the group begins teasing him and he tries to defend himself to no avail. There’s no escaping the roasting of both Sam and Wanda.

You look over into the kitchen during all the commotion and see Nat staring at you with a lazy smile on her face and a glass of wine in her hand. You beam in her direction and send her a wink before diving back into your story of how you two officially met.

All of the other Avengers had been curious about your presence but they’d grown used to you the more you came around, and you and Wanda had hit it off just like Nat thought you would.

It was a rocky start after you two had gotten together, Nat was still dealing with government stuff and the Avengers were divided but your support always comforted Nat, and now she had a shoulder to rest on on the days that got rough.

The rest of the Avengers seemed to enjoy your presence as well, and eventually, you’d convinced them all to do a game night together.

Tensions were high when they’d all first sat down but by the end of the night, everyone was laughing and teasing like before.

You had the biggest smile on your face that night and that was when Nat realized just how gone for you she was. She wasn’t big on the idea of marriage but she bought you two promise rings the next day.

You brought her peace and happiness and helped bring her family back together. She didn’t know if it was God or Fate but whoever it was she was thankful that you’d texted her that random morning.

She walked over to you and wrapped her arms around your waist, feeling you lean back into her.

When you’d finished telling your story and everyone was talking amongst themselves you turned your head to the side to catch her lips in a kiss.

“Hi Nat” You breathe out with a soft smile as soon as you pull away.

Nat smiled into your shoulder, kissing your scar lightly before speaking lowly into your ear.

“I was going through my phone listening to some of your old messages and guess what I found?” Curious and a little worried you tilt your head and make a noise of question, all while being distracted by the taste of wine that now lingered on your tongue.

Much to your horror, the sound of your voice begins playing lowly on her phone speaker

‘Anyway, sorry I know that was a lot- all that to say I miss you and I love y-’ You reach to shut off the voicemail as you hiss at her to turn it off, embarrassment burning your cheeks

“I thought I deleted that?!” You were so sure you’d pressed the delete button all those months ago and now you were determined to delete it for certain this time.

All your attempts to reach Nat’s phone to delete the message are useless of course and you forget your mission halfway through when Nat laughs at your failure to do so. Your mission changes then, and instead of reaching for your phone, you take Nat’s moment of distraction to peck a kiss on her cheek, quickly looking away to try and pretend you didn’t do anything but unable to hide the blush on your face.

Her laugh stops and when you turn to look back at her the playfulness in her eyes has been replaced with a hazy dark green.

You don’t even try to protest as Nat pulls you away from the group and off towards the direction of your shared bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: ahhh it’s finally done! I really hope you guys like this ending as much as I do. I feel like a simple domestic end is perfect for Nat and Y/n after such a rollercoaster of a relationship. Feel free to ask me any questions in the comments. I love answering them!! ~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162 @dyslexic-dreamer @graniairish @colettehope @kosmichs1 @nmhlver @natblidaclexa @skittlebum @dorabledewdroop @nothanksbye07 @mrsrushman @midastouch013 @thalia-is-not-ok @tessalah @annab3113 @officialnighttime @taliiiaasteria @bgwlsmahf25 @chibilauren @natashasgirlll @nmhlver @strange-night-owl @obsessedwjill @autorasexy @madamevirgo @kissesfornat @gemz5

180 notes · View notes

barcaatthemoon · 2 months

Text

the truth ii || jenni hermoso x reader ||

the aftermath of your breakdown.

jenni found herself walking back to the hotel soon after alexia took you away. mapi would probably kick her ass in the morning for everything, but jenni had been waiting for that moment to come. she had expected punches to come flying her way when she came back from mexico, but it seemed that you had kept quiet about the break up. you had even kept quiet when you had to stand by and watch as jenni buried herself in between the legs of various women to distract herself from you.

"ale, open up," jenni said as she knocked on your hotel room door. she had expected to find alexia watching over you for the night, and was partially shocked to see ona and patri there instead. "where is alexia?"

"she's getting some things for (y/n), who has been very chatty by the way," ona warned. jenni knew from the silence and tension radiating from patri that you told them what happened. jenni couldn't think of anything to say to defend herself.

"i'm sorry." jenni stood awkwardly at the door, hoping that one of them would let her in. "i didn't know what happened at first, but eventually it started to come back in bits and pieces."

"jenni, go back to your own room," alexia said as she pushed past jenni to get into your room.

"i want to talk to you," jenni said. alexia gave the younger players a nod as she put the thing she had bought for you in their arms. jenni stepped into the hallway with alexia, who lost her cool once the door was shut. jenni hadn't expected the outburst from alexia, who despite her poor temper, had gotten it under control as she came into the position of captain.

"how could you let me treat her like that? you knew what you did, jenni. we loved and supported you unconditionally, all the while you were the own cause of your sadness. if you would have gotten over yourself, the two of you could have been married by now!" alexia's voice was raised and her hands were fisted around the collar of jenni's shirt. jenni was backed against the wall, just waiting for the inevitable punch to come from alexia's fist. "they shut her out because we all thought she broke your heart and ran."

"i'm sorry," jenni apologized. alexia let go of her, unable to look at jenni for a second longer. "this is a mess, and it's all my fault. i don't know how to fix it."

"you'll be damn lucky if any of us can fix this. because of you, we all hurt her too. if you would have just told the fucking truth, none of this would have happened. you didn't mean any of that, not even in the message," alexia said. jenni froze at the mention of the voicemail. her face fell immediately.

"y-you heard the voicemail?" jenni felt like all of the air had been forced out of her lungs as alexia nodded her head. she had expected you to delete it. a night of drinking had coaxed jenni into venting to you about the breakup and all the things she had said. the only issue was that jenni was full of misplaced anger, and every terrible thing she felt about herself had been directed at you instead. "i didn't mean any of that about (y/n). it as about me, it was always about me."

"just get the hell out of here for now," alexia said. she was at a loss as to what she should have done. she knew that jenni hadn't meant any of that towards you, but that didn't change the fact that she had said it. nothing would ever be able to change the fact that she had said it, and despite the fact that alexia knew both of you still loved each other deeply, she wasn't sure that she was comfortable letting you go back to jenni after everything. it could only be a matter of time before she got fucked up again, leaving you to go through the whole ordeal once more.

…

slowly over the course of the next few days, the team seemed to warm up to you again. ona and patri had refused to leave your side, both of them apologizing for icing you out profousely. in all honesty, you knew that you should have been mad at them, but you were far too relieved to have friends again to care. even better than that, you were glad to no longer have to avoid your captain or the players you used to look to for guidance.

"i don't know if this is really your thing, but i was going to go with some of the girls to a candy store. i've heard a lot about it online, it's supposed to be pretty cool," mapi said as she stood awkwardly in front of your seat. you had eaten breakfast with ona, patri, and pina. it was nice, aside from the fact that jenni spent the whole morning in the corner by herself, not even sitting at a table. you had been mad at her, but you still didn't want her to be shut out by the team like you were.

"yeah, that sounds good. maybe you should ask jenni too, i bet she'd like to come," you tried to suggest. mapi gave you a look as she sat down across from you. "she's been your friend longer than i've been here. longer than any of you have known i existed. remember that i knew it was risky dating her with the age gap."

"yes, but jenni knows what she did. has she even apologized to you?" mapi asked. you shrugged. technically, there had been quite a few apologies, but none of them had been very good. jenni's sincerity had been wasted away because of your anger, and by the time you were willing to hear her out, she was mad at you.

"it's complicated, mapi. even after everything, i still love her and that's got to mean something," you reasoned.

"yeah, it means you're young. i'd stay away from her if i was you," mapi warned. you nodded in understanding, but chose not to say anything. mapi wandered off to gather up a few more girls to go to the candy store with you, which was when you took your opportunity to sneak back to your room. all you had wanted was a little time to process your thoughts, but nobody wanted to leave you alone.

you understood patri and ona being clingy, especially ona, but it was still rough on you. being alone had become your norm in germany, and while your contract was coming up soon, you weren't sure if you wanted to go back to barcelona. alexia had been pushing for it, which was part of why you had agreed to go out with mapi today instead. mapi had been the one to listen to you talk about the different club options silently yesterday. alexia had been loud, giving you a million reasons why barcelona was better than all of the other ones.

"shit, sorry. i can wait," jenni said as she walked over to the elevators. you didn't look over towards her, not even as the doors opened. you stepped inside first. jenni just stood there until you held the door open for her, indicating that you didn't mind her coming in too. "are you sure?"

"no, but you should come here anyway," you told her. jenni cracked a small smile as she stepped into the elevator with you. it was a little awkward at first, and even more so when you looked over to find her staring at you. "you didn't have to sit on the floor at breakfast today. i'm sure someone would have sat with you."

"not a chance. if we didn't have more games, i'd be back in mexico already," jenni admitted. she had planned on staying an extra couple of weeks in spain to spend with friends and family. you didn't like the idea of her abandoning that because of that happened with you. "i saw on instagram that you're going to be a free agent soon. i didn't think you had signed such a short contract."

"alexia wants me to come back to barcelona, but i'm not sure. i haven't told ona or patri that jona wants me back yet. god, she'll be so mad if i don't come back," you sighed. jenni cautiously reached out and placed her hand on your back. "you really made a mess of things for me."

"i made a mess of things for both of us, and i am so sorry. those things i said, i wasn't talking about you when i said them. i was talking about me," jenni admitted. your brows furrowed as you stared at her. "i hadn't thought much about how it would look at first, and then it was pushed into my head so i couldn't think of anything else. i never thought to ask you if you thought i was taking advantage of you. i mean, it all happened so fast at first."

"would you have ever asked me out if we didn't get drunk and sleep together?" you asked. jenni bit her lip awkwardly as she rubbed the back of her neck. "tell me. i want to hear the truth jenni."

"no, nothing would have ever happened if that first night didn't. i wouldn't have let you keep coming over, but i think i still would have loved you. i wouldn't have gotten nervous when you kissed me at alexia's, so i wouldn't have thrown up everywhere on the balcony. you wouldn't have had to drive me back to my place to take care of me, and i wouldn't have asked you to move in with me," jenni admitted. "i wouldn't have been 32 with a 19 year old girlfriend. we wouldn't have to tell the team, and patri wouldn't have ever fucking gotten in my face about us, so i wouldn't have come back home and yelled at you like that. so, i am sorry that i didn't have any fucking control, but i don't regret sleeping with you one bit."

"i don't either," you whispered. jenni glanced over at you with a small smile on her face. it didn't do much to hide the tears in her eyes or the way that her voice had been shaking as she recounted the things that wouldn't have happened if you hadn't slept with jenni for the first time.

"you should. you should be angrier with me than you are. i know that i can't stand myself when someone mentions you." jenni sank back into herself a little. you knew that jenni being upset and genuine about the breakup should have made you feel better, but it only made you feel worse. "thank you for listening to me."

"can i talk now?" you asked jenni. she nodded and you pressed the emergency stop button on the elevator. "sit down."

jenni did exactly as you asked, sliding down the wall to sit. you sat down across from her with your legs crossed. it was a habit that alexia and mapi got onto you for because it was truly terrible for your knees. jenni had never gotten onto you for things like they did, she had always gently corrected you, if she ever did. jenni liked being your girlfriend much more than she liked being an authority figure or mentor.

"if you would have talked to me about what was bothering you back then, i could have helped. i could have reassured you that you weren't taking advantage of me. i could have reminded you that every step of the way, i resisted through your persistence that it wasn't right. i could have reminded you that i wanted this so badly that i used to stay up all night trying to figure out how the hell i was going to be around you the next day," you told her.

jenni pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, balling herself up a bit. you could see the nervous little twitch in her fingers that she tried to hide. despite what you knew was in your best interests, you reached out and took jenni's hand. almost immediately, the floodgates opened up for her and she launched herself into your arms.

"i don't think that we can do this again jenni, i really don't," you sighed. jenni glanced up at you, her makeup now smeared all over your shirt. "mapi was right, i can't just take you back. i want to so badly, and i know that i love you, but i need to love someone else. i can't run back to you, jenni, i just can't."

"oh, okay," jenni said as she stood up. you sighed as you watched her flip the elevator switch again, despite you not really being done. you had more to say, but it was obvious in the way that jenni shook as she stood there that she was on the verge of breaking down. it wasn't your job to comfort her, so she wouldn't subject you to watching that.

she stopped the elevator at the next floor, which definitely wasn't hers. you watched her sprint away from you like she couldn't get away fast enough. you sighed as you stood up, waiting for the elevator to stop on your floor. when it did, you were met with ona and mapi standing there, waiting for you.

"hi guys," you said softly. you moved past them to get to your room to change your shirt, thankful that neither of them wanted to talk to you about it. they waited for you to get ready before the three of you left together, everybody else having gone out a little earlier.

"have you thought about where you want to sign to?" mapi asked. ona's head snapped over to look at you, and for a moment, you thought about strangling mapi in the middle of the busy street.

"no, i haven't," you hissed. ona cleared her throat, causing you to glance over towards her. "oni, i would have told you, bu-,"

"sign to arsenal, they want you. i think that you could really help them, and it'll be fun to play against you in the champion's league," ona told you. you were shocked that she wasn't begging you to come back to barcelona. you remembered the night you packed up your bags and left for germany, and the way that ona had sobbed on her knees begging you to stay.

"are you sure? ale said that barcelona would resign me," you told her.

"it's not the right time for you to come back to barcelona, not yet. who knows, maybe you'll find a cute girl in london. they go a little crazy for a spanish accent. i hear leila's having a lot of fun in manchester," ona teased. your cheeks burned with heat as you thought about what she was suggesting. mapi nudged you as well, obviously on board with this idea. "think about it, okay?"

"yeah, i will," you promised. in all honesty, you had thought about transferring to the wsl or even the nwsl. there were a couple of teams in america that had really wanted you, but there was no way that you'd ever run into jenni in england. she was too far away to excuse a casual visit, so maybe arsenal was just what you needed for closure.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #jenni hermoso imagine #jenni hermoso x reader

330 notes · View notes

dancinglikebutterflywings · 2 months

Text

Wolf Chan | Bang Chan

Pairing: Werewolf!Bang Chan x Reader.

Request: No.

Synopsis: Y/N's suspicions are confirmed on a Halloween night.

Warnings: Werewolves, fear, wounds, my poor attempt at scary. Fluffy ending. Repost from my now deactivated account.

Word Count: 1,093

Stray Kids Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines

©️ No one has permission to copy, translate and/or repost my fics on here or any other site. Likes, Comments & Reblogs are welcomed and appreciated.

"Hey baby," Y/N speaks into her phone as she's greeted by her boyfriend's voicemail for the third time. When he doesn't answer his phone, she becomes concerned and decides to leave a message this time. It wasn't normal for Chan miss her calls, and if he did, he would call her as soon as he could. "Call me as soon as you get this, okay? I'm beginning to worry."

After ending the call, she checks her text messages before sending a text to Changbin and Han asking if Chan was still with them. They are the two who were likely to be know of what was going on since he spends most of the day with them. They both reply to the text right away, stating they haven't seen him since they took a lunch break.

Y/N circles back and begins walking towards Chan's apartment building. She is more worried than ever. Being a bit of a workaholic, Chan wouldn't just leave the studio without notifying anybody, especially those who are closest to him.

Her worry quickly turns to terror as she reaches his apartment and sees that the door is wide open and barely hanging on its hinges. A wolf's cry can be heard out in the distance, sending a shiver down her spine.

As she goes Chan's apartment, the sky open’s and it starts pouring rain, far in the distance the rumbling of thunder could be heard, adding to the fear she’s already experiencing. Gripping the strap of her shoulder bag tightly, her heart pounding against her chest, she steps through the doorway, crossing the threshold into his apartment.

"Channie?" She calls out to him in the pitch-darkness, but her voice comes out weaker and quieter than she expected.

She finds the light switch and flicks it on. She gasps and jumps as the bulb momentarily flickers before shattering into a million pieces, leaving her once again in darkness. The only light came from the full moon faintly illuminating the living area. Her heart is pounding against her chest so loudly that she can hear it with her own ears. While remaining in place, she clumsily pulls her phone from her bag and drops it on the ground. She picks it up with trembling hands and hastily makes another call to Chan.

The sound of Chan's phone ringing causes her to look around in fear. It's another strange element of the situation. In the same way that his laptop is an extension of him, Chan never leaves his home without his phone.

She drops her phone and screams aloud as a huge bang comes from behind her. She turns on her heal and sees Bang Chan, half naked, covered in blood, with enormous, jagged wounds that look like claws larger than a bear have torn through his flesh and appearing to be on the cusp of death's door. Her fear turns to panic as he slumps to the ground and passes out.

“Chan!” she shouts as she rushes towards him and tries to get him to wake up. “Chris! Christopher!”

When he doesn’t budge or stir, she moves to check his wounds. Seeing how deep they are, she hurries into the bathroom to find the first aid kit he keeps in there. Finding it under the sink, she grabs it hurries back to the kitchen.

Arriving back in the kitchen, she’s startled to find Chan missing. Fear creeping back into her veins, she looks around to see where he could have gone. In the dark room it was hard to see where he could be.

“Bang Chan?” she questions, her voice meek.

“What are you doing here?” She hears him ask, voice raspy and weak. The pain he’s in is evident in his tone.

“I’m worried about you,” she answers, looking in the direction his voice came from, but she can’t see a thing until a flash of lightening illuminates the apartment for less than a second. She finds his form leaning against the wall in the living room, slightly hunched over and shivering. “You never came for dinner, you weren’t answering your calls, and no one has seen you since midday.”

“Something came up,” he tells her. “You need to leave, now.”

“Let me help you,” she says going to take a step forward only for him to yell at her to stop.

“Go home, Y/N,” He continues to shout at her, his tone loud and booming over the pouring rain, shocking her. He’s never raised his voice like that at her before.

“I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay,” she tells him, her voice calm and assertive.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you're not.” she argues, and moves towards him.

Giving in, he allows her to help him into his bedroom. She switches on the light as the enter the room and places him on the bed. After getting a better look at his wounds and ignoring all of Chan’s protests, she heads back into the kitchen to grab the first aid kit she dropped.

Walking back into the bedroom, she finds Chan missing again. Hearing the running water coming from the bathroom, she walks into the room finding Chan with a damp cloth, wiping the blood from his skin. There are no more wounds littering his perfect body. The only sign of there any, is the blood that now stained the cloth he’s using and the pink water in the sink.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re a werewolf?” she asks leaning on the bathroom door frame, watching him.

“I was hoping, never,” he answers honestly. “But that would be impossible. How did you figure it out?”

“I got suspicious when you would only spend the whole night at the studios when there was a full moon,” she tells him. “Leading up to the full moon, you’re always on edge and a lot snappier and more aggressive. It’s also like you're in heat leading up to it as well.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you and you had to figure it out on your own,” he apologizes unplugging the sink, letting the pink stained water swirl down the drain.

“Promise me, you’ll let me help you from now on and that we’re in this together,” she asks. “I love you and don’t want to lose you.”

“I promise,” he answers, moving closer to her, bringing her into his arms. “But as soon as I tell you to leave, you leave. I don’t want to hurt her or worse.”

She nods and pulls him into a kiss.

©️ No one has permission to copy, translate and/or repost my fics on here or any other site. Likes, Comments & Reblogs are welcomed and appreciated.

BANG CHAN: @staytiny2000 - @dancelikebutterflywings - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups - @tinyelfperson - @yeonjunnie - @laylasbunbunny - @lixsimp143 - @skz1-4-3

GREEN means I wasn't able to tag you. Please check your visibility settings.

How to change visibility settings on phone | Why others can't tag your blog

155 notes · View notes

daisies-daydreams · 1 year

Note

141 reacting to civilian!reader getting into an accident and being hospitalised while the team is deployed?

Category: Fluff & Angst Warnings: Descriptions of Injuries/Stitches/Recovery, Hospitalization Word Count: 1.1k+

Headcanons below the cut.

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny opened up a text from you as soon as he had access to his phone. His eyes widened as his heart sank.

“Fell down the stairs. At the hospital near the apartment” (Sent 2 Days Ago)

He didn’t even change his clothes, simply throwing off his tactical vest before he jumped into his car. Johnny didn’t care about the speed limit as he rushed to the hospital. His baby was hurt, and he wasn’t there to help them. He almost crashed into another car as he tried to park it, running inside.

“I’m here to see (Y/N),” Johnny stated, his voice slightly cracking. The nurse directed towards your room. His eyes watered when he saw you, your leg elevated and wrapped in a cast. Your eyes lit up as he walked inside.

“Johnny,” you smiled. Other than your leg, you sounded just fine, though it didn’t stop him from being careful as he hugged you with his bulky arms. “Are you okay?” you asked as you patted his back. He nodded, his eyes still misty.

“Yeah, I’ll be alright. But you-” his voice was cut off when he motioned towards your leg. You waved your hand.

“Something came up and your family wasn’t able to help me on the last day. I was carrying a box up the stairs and I…slipped,” you lowered your head as if ashamed of yourself. Johnny mentally slapped himself. Both of you were moving into a new apartment and he wasn’t there to help. He should’ve been there for you. He could’ve caught you or carried the box himself. Could’ve…should’ve…

A gentle kiss to his cheek drew him out of his own head.

“Bonnie?” he blinked. You smiled as you smoothed your thumb across his hand.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay. But you know what would help me feel much better?” you asked.

“What?” he said. You grinned.

“A kiss from my devastatingly handsome boyfriend,” you said while wiggling your brows. Johnny chuckled before cupping your face, tenderly pressing his lips to yours. Both of you ended up watching a game show on the hospital TV, falling asleep while holding each other’s hands.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon’s hands shook as he strode into the hospital. He received several missed calls from you-all while he was deployed. Your last voicemail sent chills down his spine.

“Hey, Si. I-I was in a car accident. I’m sorry…” your voice was hoarse as you sobbed throughout the message.

The words replayed in Simon’s mind the entire ride over. He tried to remain as calm as possible, though his blood still ran cold as he walked into your room. His breath hitched in his throat as he saw you lying on your bed, your body covered in bandages and bruises. Your eyes flicked open and you weakly smiled as he walked up to you.

“Hey love,” Simon murmured, as if afraid to startle you.

“Si,” you breathed out. Your monitor was beeping a little faster than before as he wrapped his hand around yours. He squeezed it gently as he kissed you.

“I’ll be okay. The doctor said that I should be good to go home in a few days,” you said. He nodded, his eyes scanning over your battered body.

“If you don’t mind tellin’ me, what happened?” Simon asked. Tears started to well in your eyes as your lip trembled.

“I-I was coming home from the store late because I forgot something. There was a green light at the intersection…I went, and-” your voice was cut off when you began to shake and cry. Simon felt his heart ache as he tried to hold you as carefully as he could.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, love. I’m here,” he cooed. Simon didn’t pressure you to talk about it anymore, instead letting you cry on his shoulder as he whispered comforting words into your ear.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle padded through the hospital, his heart racing wildly. You had texted him while he was deployed that you had an accident while you were riding your bike. When he saw the word “concussion”, he didn’t waste a second getting to the hospital.

Kyle felt his heart glow when he saw you smile as he walked into the room, though his smile faltered when he saw your arm in a sling and stitches across your head.

“Ky,” you called.

“Hey there, hun,” he grinned wearily. Kyle strode over and kissed you softly. Your eyes seemed a bit unfocused when he pulled back. “Heard you hit your head pretty hard,” Kyle said. You went to shrug but winced slightly. “Love? What’s wrong?” he asked with furrowed brows.

“I broke my collar bone, too. I think the drugs are starting to wear off,” you grunted.

“I’ll ring the nurse,” he said before pressing the extension on your bed’s remote. You beamed.

“My hero,” you swooned dramatically. He chuckled, eyes glistened as he held your hand.

“You sure you’re alright?” Kyle asked. You hummed.

“Of course I’m alright. I have the most handsome man in the world right next to me,” you slurred. His lips twisted as conflicting emotions barraged inside of him. On one hand, you were clearly in pain. But on the other…

“And who would that be?” Kyle asked. You blew a raspberry.

“YOU, duh,” you rolled your eyes. He smiled and pecked your cheek. God, he’s missed you.

Captain John Price

John drove like a bat out of hell towards the hospital. You had left him a text saying that you had slipped while getting out of the shower, yet there hasn’t been a message since. He’s seen a lot throughout the years-but God forbid something happens to the ones he loves. John marched towards the desk and was fidgeting while being signed in.

Once he was able, he rushed down the halls, nearly running into several doctors and patients. A lump formed in his throat when he saw your jaw hinged shut and stitches across your lower chin. You waved over at him, cheeks swollen as you smiled.

“Hi, love,” John sniffed. You tilted your head as much as you could. He swallowed thickly as he slid in the chair next to you, scooting in closer. You held your hand out. John had to bite the inside of his cheek as he slid his larger palm into yours. He was shocked when tears began to freely flow down his face as he pressed your hand up to your forehead. You patted his arm with your other free hand, brows slightly furrowed.

“I wasn’t sure if I lost you,” he confessed with a shaky breath. You stopped patting him and rested your hand on his forearm. John looked up at you, his eyes red and gushing with tears.

“Promise me that you’ll be more careful, please,” he begged. You held your hand up and shook it in a nodding motion. John sniffed before gently kissing your knuckles. “I love you,” he breathed. Even though you couldn’t speak, he knew you’d say the same.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

953 notes · View notes

thelukesalvez · 1 year

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: Hostage

Description: request: can you do an imagine where the reader is luke’s wife or girlfriend and she gets involved in a hostage situation at a bank and the bau is called in to help with the situation? thanks, i love your writing so much :)

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: hostage situation, gun violence, minor character death

“This came in just a few minutes ago from the Director,” Prentiss confirms. With the click of a button on the remote, a local news station clip projects onto the screen behind her, illuminating the chaos underway. “There’s a situation downtown that he wants the BAU to take the lead on.”

With bewilderment on his face, a reporter stands in downtown Washington D.C., which was littered with law enforcement and a crowd of people. The headline across the bottom of the screen reads ‘Hostage situation underway at Capital One Bank’.

Luke drops the pen he was holding, drawing attention from other members of the team as it clashes on the table in front of him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. The rest of the team averted their attention back to Prentiss, but Luke’s attention was halted in its tracks. Instinctively, he reaches into his pocket for his phone, quickly checking his messages under the table. He tries to remain calm and rational, but his stomach sinks when he realizes none of the messages were from you.

Luke had been in a rush this morning, per usual. He was running around the house, scrambling for keys, wallet, coffee, his to-go bag, just in case. He only half listened as you told him the list of errands you had to run that morning, while simultaneously scarfing down a buttered bagel. Whole foods, the post office, the bank–

Luke swallows dryly. You were okay, he tells himself. You were okay, you were okay, you were okay. He repeats the mantra in his head as he types out a quick, casual message.

Did you make it to the bank this morning?

Luke forces himself to turn at least some of his attention back to the team, but keeps his phone unlocked and open to your text messages.

“Local officers have invited us in,” Prentiss informs the group, she sets the remote down gently on the round table. “They’ve informed us of at least two armed man inside the bank, no contact or ransom demand has been made as of yet. Garcia is working to gain access to security footage of inside the bank as we speak.”

The sounds of Garcia typing frantically on her laptop can be heard throughout the conference room as she works.

Luke stares back down at his blank screen, waiting for text bubbles to appear, indicating that you were responding– alive and well. But there’s nothing. Luke starts frantically tapping his foot, why weren’t you texting him back?

“Alvez?” Emily’s voice causes Luke’s head to snap up.

Luke is quick to realize that the entire team is looking at him again as he sits anxiously in his seat, his phone still cradled in the palm of his hand.

“Sorry,” he repeats.

This time no one looks away.

“What’s wrong?” Rossi asks, his eyes narrowed in concern.

“I’m uh, I’m sorry.” Luke says for the third time. He tries to explain while his brain races. “My wife… My wife told me she was running errands this morning, that she had to go to the bank–”

The moment of silence feels like an eternity to Luke.

“That’s our bank,” he motioned towards the screen, still playing news clips on the board. “Do you mind if I just give her a quick call?” He asks, holding his phone up.

Prentiss nods. “Of course.”

Luke mumbles a quick ‘thanks’ before jetting out of the conference room. He escapes into the hall before dialing you. Luke can feel his heart beating rapidly inside of his chest as the line waits to connect– but he’s sent straight to voicemail.

Luke tries again. He’s not entirely sure why he expected a different outcome, but again, your cheery voice directing him to leave a message plays. This time he does.

“Hey, it’s me. I just– I really need to hear from you right now.” Luke swallows the lump in his throat, realizing how dry his mouth felt. “Call me back, please. I love you.” He ends the call and turns his phone over in his hand a few times. You were okay, he tells himself again.

“I– uh, couldn’t get ahold of her,” Luke states as he walks back into the conference room. He makes eye contact with Rossi, who’s gazing wearily back at him. “But I’m sure everything’s fine.” Luke says with as much confidence as he can gather. He’s not so sure he believes it himself.

That’s when Luke notices how eerily quiet everyone else is. He glances around the room to see everyone else staring at the screen.

Garcia had managed to tap into the security footage at the bank. Luke scans the image, his eyes immediately landing on the unsub. He was a tall man, dressed in all black, strutting around the frame with a rifle. He’s waving it wildly as he randomly lunges intimidatingly at one of the victims huddled on the floor. There’s no sound to the video, but it looks like he’s shouting at them.

Garcia suddenly lets out a gasp, her mouth falling open in unison. “No,” she whimpers, she tore her eyes away from the image on the screen to look at Luke.

Everything inside of him goes numb when his eyes land on one of the hostages curled up on the ground, her knees tucked tightly into her chest, and her familiar looking hair shielding her face as she hangs her head low. There’s a tense silence in the room as Luke stands motionless near the door. Only his chest moved as he let out choppy, labored breaths.

He could feel eyes on him as the rest of the team came to the same realization he and Garcia just had. You were inside the bank.

“We are gonna get this guy,” Prentiss says hesitantly, like Luke might break just by her words.

Luke just nods slowly. He couldn’t find the words to respond, even if he wanted to.

“She’s going to be okay,” JJ closes the distance between her and him and places a soft, gentle hand on his shoulder.

Luke should say something. He can’t just keep nodding, but all he could think about right now was you, and the way he rushed out of the house in such a hurry this morning. He didn’t even kiss you goodbye– or tell you that he loved you. What if that was the last time he’d ever see you?

“We have to get to the scene,” Prentiss declares somberly. She eyes Luke cautiously, but the clock is ticking.

JJ lifts her hand off Luke’s arm, leaving behind a cold spot that made him shiver. She follows Tara, Matt and Reid out of the conference room.

Rossi, Prentiss, and Garcia remain in the conference room with Luke.

Prentiss clears her throat before speaking. “Luke, you know you can’t come with us on this one.”

His jaw tenses at her order and he finally breaks his silence. “Screw the protocol, Emily, there’s no way I’m staying back here.”

“Luke, I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now,” Rossi says softly. He stands up from his chair and looks at Luke sympathetically.

“Don’t–” Luke whispers. His eyes glisten with unshed tears, but he blinks them back before sighing heavily. “Don’t talk to me like I’m one of the victims’ families.”

Prentiss and Rossi both stare at Luke for a moment, neither one knowing what else to say.

“Emily, please,” Luke sighs, he lets his shoulders fall slightly. “I can’t stay here and do nothing.”

She sighs heavily and she turns to face Rossi, like she’s looking to the more experienced profiler for advice. They exchange a mutual nod before she responds. “Look at me, Luke.” His eyes meet hers. “You have to remain level headed and you have to follow my orders. Or I will take you off the case.”

Luke understands that Prentiss was legally bound to follow protocol. He wishes that rules and regulations could be pushed aside at times like this, but he nods in agreement. He would have to control his emotions in the field.

Emily nods back in affirmation before offering him a sympathetic look. She outstretches her hand and gives his shoulder a firm squeeze. “If it’s personal for one of us, it’s personal for all of us.” She tells him, implying what Luke already knew: that they wouldn’t rest until this was all over.

A variety of emotions flood through Luke’s mind as he rides in the back seat of one of the SUVs to the scene. Luke shared the car with Tara, Matt, and Reid, but didn’t speak to any of them. Instead he stares directly out the tinted window, remaining silent during the entire duration of their trip.

Spencer kept turning his head subtly towards Luke, in an attempt to gauge how he was doing. It was hard for him to see his friend suffering like this. Luke was generally the confident, reassuring one, but today he just looked broken.

The prospect of losing you was all too consuming as he thought about the careless and threatening way the unsub had been waving his rifle around. He thought about how you had been huddled on the ground, curled up and hiding your face against your knees. He thought about how you were probably wondering where Luke was, and why he wasn’t there to protect you.

Luke swallows the lump in his throat and forces himself to blink back tears building pressure up behind his eyes.

How could this be happening?

…

A round of loud pops rang loudly through the air.

“Everybody on the ground!”

Confused by the sudden chaos around you, your eyes quickly shift towards the door. Two men in combat gear stand there, their faces covered by ski masks. It takes you a moment to realize that the things they were holding high above their heads were guns. Your stomach drops.

You crouch to the floor in an instant, hastily trying to gauge the situation. Your view is partially blocked by the bench in the middle of the bank, all you can hear is frightened cries and the sound of heavy boots trudging across the floor. You scoot out from behind the bench so that you could better see what was happening.

Someone is talking with the men, probably a teller, you think. Their voices are angry and harsh.

Suddenly, in the distance, the sound of sirens could be heard. At first, you feel a wave of relief wash over you, thinking that law enforcement would be able to save you all soon enough.

But then, you hear someone curse loudly then a pair of boots stride back to the counter.

“Did you call 911?” One man asks. His voice is eerily calm. You watch as the teller shakes his head, terrified. The man laughs before raising his gun, shoving it near the teller. “Don’t lie to me!” He screams, causing you to jump.

The teller continues to shake his head, sobbing and pleading now. You watch as the robber rips the mask off, displaying his face. He smirks evilly before spinning his rifle around and jabbing it into the teller’s face. You jump in shock as he falls to the floor, groaning in pain.

Someone screams, another person sobs.

Fear floods through your entire body upon realizing that these men weren’t leaving peacefully. Now that their heist had been cut short, they weren’t going down without a fight. The heavy boots came closer and your eyes quickly became clouded with tears.

Your eyes remain fixated on the floor, even after the footsteps stop right in front of you.

“Get up,” the man orders.

You do as you were told, trying your best to steady your shaking hands. Everyone else gets up too, as the other robber circulates the room repeating the same order.

“Congratulations,” the man said menacingly. He lifts his gloved hand to trace the outline of your jaw. Your nostrils flare in response to his touch. “You’ve just been upgraded from background noise to hostages. Thanks to whoever called the cops.”

He motions for people to head towards the back corner of the bank. Once everyone is gathered around in a semicircle, (you counted eleven other hostages) the robbers bark more orders.

“Cell phones, now.”

People hurry to throw their phones towards the middle of the circle. You pull yours out, your heart sinking when you see an unopened message from Luke flash across your screen.

‘Did you make it to the bank?’

You wonder if the BAU had gotten wind about what was happening yet. You clutch your phone tightly before tossing it on the tiled floor with everyone else's.

No one speaks, everyone just watches as the two men circulate around the room. You curl your knees into your chest, hugging them tightly.

“You weren’t supposed to hurt anyone,” you hear the masked man whisper to the other. “You said we’d just take the money and go.”

“There’s cops outside, Diggy, we’re surrounded. The only way we’re getting out of here is a negotiation. Or if we shoot our way out.”

He strokes his beard lightly, another smirk washing over his face. “Now take that off,” he nods towards his partner’s mask. “Don’t matter much anymore if they see your face, does it?”

The man peels off his mask to reveal his young face. His features are furrowed, like he was concerned. “Cops have protocols they have to follow,” he says to the bearded man. “They won’t just barge in here unless you hurt anyone, so cool it. We can figure this out.”

Just then, the phone starts ringing.

The older man answers, “What?” he barked.

You hear muffled voices on the other end of the line.

“Oh yeah?” He said mockingly, “And what can you do for me, SSA David Rossi of the BAU?”

You let out a shaky breath upon hearing the name of your husband’s coworker. The BAU had been invited in– which meant Luke knew. You wonder if he was outside, too.

It makes your chest ache to know there was such a small barrier between you and his safe arms.

“I’ll tell you what I need, I need a way out of here, or else people are going to get hurt.”

You hear Rossi’s muffled voice on the other end of the line again, no doubt using his profiling skills to help defuse the situation. You see the man’s brows slide into a firm line, like he’s thinking hard about something Rossi’s said. But in an instant his face contorts into an angry scowl and he clenches his rifle tighter.

“Get me a way out of here or they die,” he snarls, before hanging up the phone.

The man walks back over to the group of hostages with malice in his eyes. He scans the faces of people before landing on a scared woman, looking to be in her early 30’s. He bends over and wraps his hand around her arm, hoisting her up on her feet.

“No,” she pleads, tears streaming rapidly down her face. “Please, no,” she sobs.

“Shut up,” the man yells, lifting his gun tauntingly, before dragging her from the group.

“What are you doing?” you can’t believe you were speaking, you even startle yourself with your words.

But he doesn’t even turn around– doesn’t even acknowledge that you had protested.

He pulls her towards the end of one of the teller stations and scribbles something down on a piece of paper. The woman stands by, shaking terribly in her shoes. When the man stops writing he hands her the note.

“Take this to the cops,” he orders.

“W-what?”

“Take this to the cops,” he repeats, slower this time.

She nods, her trembling hands accepting the note.

…

“Guys–” Tara says.

The team turns to face where her attention was focused. The front doors of the bank were opening.

Luke hurries to unholster his gun, his shaky hands gripping the handle as he and every other cop in the area draws their weapons.

Confusion washes over him as a woman exits the bank, her hands above her head.

“Please,” she sobs.

SWAT rushes over to escort the woman to safety.

“He told me to give you this,” she cries, handing a note over to the SWAT member.

Prentiss rushes over to take the note, reading aloud the demands.

“Two million dollars and an escape plan. Every 30 minutes you keep me waiting, someone will die.”

The knot in Luke’s stomach tightens.

…

“Tick tock,” the bearded robber states as he struts around the interior of the bank. The younger man had been quietly sitting on the bench, staring at his shoes for the last few minutes or so.

The robber picks up the phone, dialing the number that had previously reached out.

“Is this Rossi?” he snarls into the line. “It’s almost been thirty minutes.”

You watch as the robber converses with Rossi. You’re wondering what he’s saying.

“You just got someone killed.” He hangs the phone up harshly before taking a deep breath, staring at the clock on the wall.

“And thirty.” The robber made his way back over to the hostages. He doesn’t hesitate before pulling up the older man who had been praying silently next to you.

“No!” you cry, trying to grab his hand to pull him back, but the robber just yanks him harder.

The man is dragged across the floor, but he’s still visible to you. He’s slammed down on the floor on his knees, facing away from the robbers. Your eyes widen as the man brings the rifle up, only inches from the elderly man’s head. You know you should look away, but you can’t bring yourself to do it, especially when he turns his head and locks eyes with you.

You are the last thing he sees before the robber pulls the trigger.

You’re too terrified to scream, or cry, or do much of anything. You just stare in shock as the man collapses into a pool of his own blood.

“That’s what happens when these cops don’t listen to me!” He rants, waving the gun around. He fires a couple of more shots into the ceiling, causing debris to fall. More screams rattle the interior of the bank.

“What are you doing?” The quieter robber stands up fiercely and rushes over to his partner. He looks frantically at the dead body on the floor. “You just killed someone!”

They get in each other's faces. “I’m doing what I have to do to get us out of here!” he screams back. He postures towards the younger boy, intimidating him into backing down. “I’m trying to save us, Diggy.”

“But killing someone, man? I didn’t sign up for that, Kalo.”

“You just gotta trust me, okay?” The older man, you now knew was named Kalo, spoke.

Diggy lowers his head, biting his lip harshly. He shakes his head, still in shock that things had gone so wrong, so fast.

…

“Were those gunshots?” Reid asks, worry evident in his voice.

“Those were gunshots,” JJ confirms, strapping her vest on tightly.

Luke squeezes his eyes shut tightly. “We have to go in there,” he states, trying to remain calm.

Rossi lowers the phone that he had been talking to the unsub on. “He said we just got someone killed.”

“If they’re shooting people, we have to go in–” Luke speaks up again. He’s terrified. What if it was you?

“It wasn’t her,” Matt speaks up. He’s watching the video footage that Luke had been too scared to check. “It looks like an older gentleman.”

Luke lets out a shaky sigh. He feels guilty for being relieved about someone else’s death, but he couldn’t help it. He looks at the clock stationed above the monitor. In another 24 minutes, it could be you.

“What’s our game plan, here?” One of the SWAT members asks.

Emily sighs. “We have to play this smart– these guys are reckless and they’re not going down without a fight. If we barge in there, they’ll just start shooting. Who knows how many hostages could get hit in the crossfire?”

“If we don’t go in there, he’s just going to keep executing them one-by-one.” Matt refutes.

Emily nods. “Someone get me the layout of this building, I need to see the back entrances and side doors. If we go in, I want them surrounded.”

…

You’d never given much thought to how you would die. But sitting here, on the cold tile floor, surrounded by people you didn’t know and two masked assailants, wasn’t something you think you could have ever imagined.

You wonder how Luke was doing– you knew how protective of you he was. You just hope the team has convinced him to keep a level head.

The woman sitting next to you was spinning her wedding band around on her finger rapidly.

“What’s his name?” you ask, motioning towards her ring.

She looks up at you, tears glistening in her eyes. “Julian,” she spoke softly, her lips tugging into a sad smile. “And yours?” she asks.

You touch your finger to your own ring. “Luke.”

You move your hand across the floor and rest it on top of hers. “We’re going to see them again.”

She nods, using her other hand to cover the sob that was escaping her lips.

“These FBI agents just don’t learn, do they?” Kalo snarls as he struts across the floor. “They’re gonna let another one of you die.”

This time, he came straight for you. His firm grasp hauls you up to your feet, and before you had time to protest or fight back, he was dragging you to where he’d shot the last man.

Your breath became choppy and uneven as fear flooded your insides. You were going to die. He was going to kill you.

“Kalo– stop, no one else has to die!” His friend protests. He even reaches out to pull you away from his clutches, but Kalo shakes him off, jolsting you away from the other man.

“Kalo!” he shouts, but his partner ignores him.

Just as you get to the middle of the floor, an array of loud bangs echo through the bank, causing you to jump.

“FBI. Freeze!” A voice yells, before you realize what was happening, Kalo is wrapping his arm around you, and pulling you back against him. The hard barrel of his gun presses against your temple, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’ll shoot her!” Kalo hollers back, his forearm jabs into your throat.

When you finally get your bearings, you’re able to look around the room. You see a few faces you recognize.

The first is Emily. She’s got her gun pointed right at you– or the man holding you, you suppose. Rossi is beside her, he holds his gun up in his hand before holstering it.

“We just want to talk, Kalo,” he says calmly.

Of course they figured out who these guys were, you thought. With Garcia’s tracking abilities, she probably had the men identified within the first five minutes of the robbery.

You also notice JJ and Matt, they were to the side of you. Clearly they’d found a way in through another door. Reid and Tara flank on the opposite side, they made their way around the two of you, ensuring that the robbers were surrounded. You scan and scan for Luke, but he isn’t there. It was probably against some policy. You are glad he was following the rules, but you still wish he was there– you wish you could see his face.

“I’m done talking!” Kalo screams back. His grip tightens and you struggle to breathe. “Go away, or I’ll kill her!”

He was losing control, you can tell. You squeeze your eyes shut and think about Luke some more. You let his face appear in your mind, his warm brown eyes and soft smile came into focus. It makes you sad, thinking you may never be able to hear his voice again– or feel his touch.

“You know we can’t do that, Kalo. Put the gun down and we can work this out.” Rossi says calmly. You open your eyes again.

“I’m not going back to prison.” Kalo mutters. His arm becomes shaky as it is pushed deeper into your throat, you gag as your airway becomes almost completely blocked.

“Kalo– don’t do this,” Rossi pleads with the man, he senses that he is about to snap.

“I’m not going back to prison!” Kalo shouts, and you know– you know that this was it.

A loud gunshot rings out and you feel yourself dropping to the floor. Your entire body goes numb. You’re sure that you’re dead.

But as you collapse to the tile floors, you slowly realize that there was no pain– or darkness. You open your eyes to find Kalo lying lifeless next to you. His eyes are still open as blood starts to spread across the ground. You push yourself away, realizing the crimson liquid had splattered all over you and your clothing. You scoot backwards until you ram into the bench.

You look around the room as the agents jump into action. Rossi hurries to Kalo, kicking his gun out of the way before kneeling down to check his pulse.

Matt, JJ, and Tara rush to gather up the other hostages, still huddling on the floor in the corner.

Emily crosses the room to put handcuffs on the other robber. Diggy stands with his gun still pointing at his partner. The smoke is still curling off the end of the barrel as he looks at his fallen friend.

As Emily approaches him, he drops the weapon, showing that he is willing to go peacefully.

“No one was supposed to die,” he says in shock. “I had to shoot him.”

Emily starts telling him his rights when you are approached by a soft, calm voice.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Spencer says soothingly. He kneels beside you. “Are you hurt?” he asks.

You shake your head, your eyes staring blankly at him as you try to regain the feeling in your body.

“Can you stand?” Spencer asks wearily.

You nod, slowly getting to your feet, with support from Spencer.

“Luke–” you manage to spit out. Your voice is shaky.

Spencer nods, wrapping his around your waist reassuringly, “Luke’s here,” he tells you. “I’m gonna take you to him.”

Spencer leads you outside of the bank. The sunlight is almost blinding and you hold your arms up to shield some of it. You want to search for Luke, to scream out his name, but your senses are betraying you.

Your knees wobble, and you rely way too much on Spencer’s support to get down the steps of the building. You lean into his side, almost ready to fall, when you hear your name being called by a familiar voice.

“She’s okay,” Spencer tells Luke as he darts across the sidewalk towards you.

You barely have time to lay your eyes on him before he’s replacing Spencer’s arm with his own embrace. Suddenly, you’re engulfed by his touch and smell and everything Luke. It takes a moment for you to realize it’s real– that your husband is here and that you’re finally safe in his arms. But when you do, you let it consume you. You collapse into his frame and wind your arms tightly around his neck, squeezing like you just couldn’t get close enough. Your face presses into the nape of his neck and you breathe in his warm, familiar scent.

“You’re okay?” Luke asks, finally pulling back to assess the damage that had been done.

He winces when he sees the blood covering your shirt. “It’s not mine,” you whisper, knowing what he was looking so concerned about.

It was his– the man who had inflicted upon you the worst day of your entire life. You scratch at the fabric, suddenly desperate for it to come off.

“I want to go home,” you tell Luke.

He nods softly. “I’m gonna take you home.”

…

You stand in the bathroom later that night, staring at the reflection looking back at you. Your eyes were hollow– lifeless. The shower is running, the steam already rising above the curtain and starting to cause the mirror to fog up.

You peel off your shirt to showcase the deep, discoloration already evident on your neck from where the robber had held you. You were tracing the line of bruises across your skin when the wave hit you. In an instant, you let out an earth shattering sob. The cries come from deep within you and wrack your entire body.

You’re heaving so loudly that you don’t even hear Luke enter the bathroom. Only when he is behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into your chest did you notice his presence.

He holds you like that for a while, muttering sweet nothings into your hair and swaying you gently. When your sobs finally subside, he slowly starts helping you undress. First, he helps you unclasp your bra, then he undoes your pants, and acts as a balance support while you step out of them.

Once you are finally naked, he starts undressing himself. He is much faster than you.

Luke leads you into the shower and piles in behind you. The warm water washes over you causing goosebumps to rise up on your skin as you adjust to the sudden heat.

Luke is gentle. He helps rinse the hardened blood that was caked in your hair out. You watch the water that falls off your skin turn crimson as it swirls down the drain. He softly takes a washcloth and runs it up and down your skin, you lean into his touch, grateful that he is here to help you.

Luke plants random kisses all over your skin as he washes it. On your forehead, your nose, your cheek, your shoulder. When he gets to your collarbone, he stops. Luke’s fingertips ran across the bruise that had been left behind on you. You watch as his face twists in pain. He hates seeing you hurt. He hates the fact that he couldn’t stop this from happening to you.

You break Luke out of his trance by gathering his hand in yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Your team saved me today,” you tell him. “You saved me.”

Luke brings your hand to his lips and softly kisses your knuckles.

“I thought I was never going to see you again,” you tell him. On the last word, your voice breaks, and you start crying softly again.

Luke pulls you in closer, his hands winding down your back. You press your face against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist. He holds you like that for a long time, until the hot water causes your fingertips to prune and until the mirror is completely covered in fog. Luke holds you tightly, his head resting against your wet hair as you breathe against his rising chest.

You sigh heavily. For now, you are content like that. In fact, you don’t think you’d care if the two of you stayed in the shower forever You could spend an entire lifetime like that– wrapped up in Luke’s safe embrace.

#luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x reader fic #luke alvez fic #luke alvez x reader imagine #luke alvez imagine #luke alvez #luke alvez x reader fanfic #luke alvez x reader imagines #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x y/n

1K notes · View notes

dfortrafalgar · 1 month

Text

I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men

Chapter 22

[Prev] [Next]

[RING RING]

[Hi! Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave a message after the beep, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!]

[BEEP]

Law took a deep breath before speaking. “Hi, baby, I just wanted to check in. I know it’s really early there and you’re probably still sleeping, but good luck on your procedure today. I… really wish I could be there. I miss you a lot, I’m excited to come home in a few days. Call me back when you get the chance, just so that I know you’re okay. I love you.”

The solemn man tapped on the red disconnect button on his phone’s screen, hanging up on your voicemail box. Beside him, Dr. Tony took a long sip of his beer, anxiously eyeing the expression of his superior. Across the table from Law sat another older doctor from an institution a few cities away, one who had been a big fan of Law’s dissertation from medical school and insisted he treat the cardiac surgeon and his colleagues to a drink. As soon as they began actually drinking, though, it became clear to Law that the large, scruffy looking doctor treating him to booze was a bit harder to deal with than he initially thought. The more he drank, the more he ran his mouth.

“Aw, come on, man! You’ve been so uptight this whole week, I thought someone like you would be more than excited to attend this event and go drinking with some colleagues,” the man chided, his cheeks slightly flushed from his alcohol intake.

Law tossed a frustrated look at the man across from him, but it clearly didn’t land in the way he intended. “Just a bit tired, I suppose.”

“Tired of calling your wife?” the man sneered. “A man deserves to get away from the ole’ ball and chain every once in a while. You might as well enjoy your freedom while you’re out of the country.”

Law’s jaw involuntarily clenched. A million words of retaliation swirled through his head, but he didn’t have the gall to speak. The last thing he wanted to do was make a scene, surrounded by esteemed colleagues who were all looking forward to a night out drinking after a successful conference day. The black-haired man simply crossed his arms and uncomfortably eyed the barely-touched beer in front of him.

“That woman of your’s is probably sick of you calling her all the time, anyway. Is she making you do that?” he asked.

Chopper reached a hand out, nervously trying to stop the man across from them from talking. “Dr. Teach, let’s be civil, now.”

Another swig of beer slipped past the larger man’s chapped lips. He slammed down his glass with another snide remark. “Can’t be civil when you’ve got a man being held back by some woman at home. You can’t let her control you like that, you’ve got to be a man.”

Law’s fists clenched the fabric of his shirt as he felt his face heating up with humiliation. “I’m going to ask you one time to be quiet.”

The man, Dr. Marshall Teach, curled his lips in a sneer. “Aw, you getting defensive?”

“If you wanted to treat myself and my colleague to a round of drinks, I would appreciate it if you could keep your unnecessary comments to a minimum,” Law affirmed. He was inwardly impressed with how he managed to keep his voice so steady despite the rapid pounding of his heart. He felt his hands grow clammy with discomfort.

Teach shrugged. “Sorry that you’ve found yourself prey to a bitc–”

Law stood up with such ferocity that the sound of his chair scooting across the hard wooden floor alerted the tables around him, surprised and curious eyes darting in his direction. With a scowl, he grabbed his bag, stepping around the table to make a quick exit. Before he passed by Teach, however, he stopped dead in his tracks and leered down at the man. “Don’t expect any more cordial behavior from me this week. I never want to hear from you again.”

Before the rude older man was able to retort and get the last word, Law finally stepped away from the table and left the restaurant. His legs were shaking as he rounded the corner of the building and stepped into a dimly lit alleyway, the setting sun casting a large shadow over the structure and making the corridor appear darker than the rest of the world. A perfect shroud for Law to sink into a crouching position against the brick wall, his bag at his feet as he wrapped his hands around his knees.

Pathetic.

Law felt his stomach twist uncomfortably, his hands growing even more clammy as he fought with his heart rate to get it to settle. His mind was reeling with thoughts, insecurities. He felt like he was going to be sick. How was a man as esteemed as him having a panic attack in a back alley behind a bar?

“Law?” a soft voice called from around the corner.

The black-haired man picked his head up in surprise, facing the voice. A head of thick, bushy brown hair and gentle, black, doe-like eyes greeted him.

“Chopper… need something?” he asked, keeping his voice low to prevent it from trembling.

The younger doctor stepped closer, copying Law’s posture by crouching down himself so he could be at the same level as his superior. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay… do you want to head back to the hotel?”

“Is anyone else going?” Law asked, mild skepticism in his eyes.

“Nope, just me,” the brunette man responded. “I barely had anything to drink, anyway. Bars aren’t really my scene.”

Law slowly stood up along with his younger colleague, grabbing his bag from the cold ground and following Chopper out of the alley, rounding the corner and proceeding down the street. The two walked in silence for around 20 minutes before they finally reached their hotel, a very fine establishment that was selected by their employers for their week-long stay in the Flower Capital. The place was far more lavish than anything Law had stayed in before, but frankly, the expensive decor and fancy lights were nothing if not unsettling for him in his upset state. He followed Chopper into the elevator, the two ascending in silence to the 10th floor, watching as the numbers on the control panel slowly ticked upward. Their walk through the hall was so silent you could hear their footsteps slightly echoing off of the plaster walls around them. Chopper inserted his keycard into their room’s door, pushing the heavy entrance open and stepping inside, Law on his heels.

Once they were safely in their room, Law released the frustrated groan he had been holding in. He quickly undid the buttons of his dress shirt, ripping it off of him and falling backwards onto the bed that he designated as his. Chopper watched with concern on his soft features, sitting on his own mattress.

“I’m sorry about what Teach said to you,” the younger man said.

“Don’t be, it wasn’t your fault,” Law mumbled back, staring at the ceiling. The air of their hotel room was quite chilly and made goosebumps appear on his inked skin, but it was far better than his anxious perspiration that was going on under the stifling fabric of his dress shirt.

“I know it wasn’t, but I’m still sorry,” Chopper responded, awkwardly hugging his knees. “I think it’s sweet that you’re calling your wife so often. I’m sure she really appreciates it.”

Law bit the inside of his cheek. He had kept your infertility struggles a secret from the rest of his colleagues at the hospital, choosing instead to say that he was taking care of you through an acute illness whenever he used his personal time off. No one had ever questioned it, perhaps being too afraid to provoke the steely, constantly-focused doctor, but whatever the reason, Law was relieved that he never had to explain himself. His current behavior was far beyond the realm of what Chopper had ever seen of him, drastically out of character from the hard-working doctor the younger man was surely used to.

“Chopper, can I tell you something?” Law asked, feeling immensely awkward for divulging his problems to a colleague who seemed so much younger than him.

“Of course,” Chopper replied.

Law sat up on his elbows, gazing at his feet at the end of the bed. “My wife has been struggling with infertility. We’ve been trying for well over a year now to have a baby, with no success yet. She’s had two miscarriages, the second one at 12 weeks.” His voice was quiet as he spoke, clearly upset with reliving the memory of seeing you tied to the hospital bed in the emergency room, the way your face was scrunched up with agony, humiliation, and shame.

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” the younger man sympathized.

Law took a deep breath. “She’s been undergoing treatment to prepare for IVF, and today, back home anyway, is the day she gets her eggs harvested. I’ve been so, so fucking nervous for her. Excuse my language.”

“So that’s why you’ve been calling and texting her a bunch?” Chopper asked, slightly tilting his head as he listened to his older colleague.

“Yeah. And unlike that prick Teach, I like to think I have a much healthier relationship with her.” Law scoffed, relaying the words the older man had spoken to him over their drinks. “Ball and chain, my ass. The day I refer to my wife like that is the day I die by my own hand.”

Chopper sighed, wanting to apologize yet again for the older doctor’s behavior, but deciding against it. Law’s words sparked a hint of curiosity in the younger man, however, as he gazed at the ink covering his coworker’s hands, arms, chest, and back. “Law, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Not at all,” the black-haired surgeon responded.

“It always struck me as interesting that you have the word ‘DEATH’ tattooed on your fingers. Have you ever been… told off for that?”

Chopper’s words prompted Law to gaze at the ink on his skin. He huffed through his nose at the memory, his friends as an 18-year-old undergraduate adamantly insisting that he shouldn’t get morbid tattoos if he was going to pursue a career in life-saving medical care, but clearly their words didn’t stick.

“All the time,” he replied. “I got my tattoos done over the course of a few years while I was an undergrad. I was going through a lot at that time, and funneled my frustrations into getting ink.”

“Is there a reason you chose ‘DEATH’?” Chopper had absolutely zero idea if he was crossing the line or not, but based on Law’s somewhat relaxed body language, he safely assumed that he was still in the clear with his questions.

Law pursed his lips. “I lost my family in a house fire when I was around 10, and the man who took me in and raised me was killed by his older brother when I was 13, so for the duration of my teenage years, death was all I thought about.”

Chopper’s eyebrows creased with melancholy. “I’m so sorry…”

Law relaxed his arms and fell back onto his mattress once more. “I kept going for my parents, they were both doctors and I grew up wanting to follow in their footsteps. And for most of my time in high school and then in college, I was convinced I was too hardened to be loved.”

The younger brunette felt a small smile tug on his lips. “But then you met your wife.”

The words made the black-haired man grin. “Yup… then I met my wife. But I already had the tattoos when I met her, so it was a bit too late for that.”

“I’m sorry you can’t be home with her… but I’m sure she really does appreciate the fact that you’re constantly checking in on her. If my husband was halfway across the world, I’d want to hear from him as often as I could, too,” Chopper stated, his voice light and airy.

Law stared at the ceiling. Chopper was the kind of kid whose presence made you relax. His openness and understanding of complex topics and issues was a quality that made Law gravitate towards taking him under his wing, endlessly impressed with the ease in which the boy sympathized and offered boundless support for patients, colleagues, and family who visited the hospital. Even the most upset patients were treated with the utmost respect from the young doctor, his very existence making any tension or unease flow from the body in waves.

“Thanks, Chopper, I appreciate it,” Law stated. “Sorry to spill all that on you.”

“It’s never a problem, Law, I’m always happy to talk about stuff that might be troubling you. As a friend, rather than strictly a coworker.” Chopper swung his legs off the side of his bed. “I’m going to take a shower, try to get some shut-eye, alright?” The younger colleague tossed a friendly smile to Law, who nodded graciously.

The bathroom door closed with a soft click, leaving Law alone on his bed in the warm light of the bedside lamp. He reached toward his phone intent on checking his text messages, but as soon as he picked it up in his hand, the screen lit up with an incoming call.

Wifey

A grin tugged on Law’s lips. “Hello?”

[Hi, baby! I’m sorry I missed your call…] Your voice was groggy with sleep, and some shuffling could be heard in the background. You must have still been in bed.

“It’s alright, you were sleeping,” Law replied, his voice soft. “I wouldn’t want you to wake up for me, especially not on such an important day. You need all the rest you can get.”

A soft hum echoed through the speakers. [You’re right… but I love hearing your voice.] Your words were silky smooth, making your husband smile even wider as he imagined the sleepy look on your face, your eyes half-lidded with exhaustion as a beautiful, fatigued smile pulled on your lips. He imagined curling closer to you, pulling your body into his own and inhaling the soft scent of your soap and moisturizer, wishing he could carry around your aroma in a bottle for whenever he wanted to think of you.

“How are you feeling about today?” he asked.

[Really, really nervous. But we all have a plan.] Your shaky response made Law’s heart clench, but he waited patiently for you to continue talking. [I go in at 9 AM for the procedure. Penguin is driving me, because I don’t trust Shachi’s car, but Shachi and Ikkaku are going to stay at the apartment with Bepo. The procedure is going to take only, like, ten or so minutes, so I requested to have local anesthesia so I don’t have to be all groggy for the day. So it’ll probably hurt a bit, but I’m tough. I can deal.]

Law chuckled. “You are tough.” He wanted to say something else, perhaps sing your praises even more, but his insecurities from earlier flooded back into his head. “Hey… can I ask you something?”

[Of course, baby. Anything.]

“Are you…” he searched the crevices of his mind for the proper words. “Are you annoyed with me when I call too often?”

The line was silent for a few moments too many. [Why would I be annoyed?]

The man rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I don’t know… I had a weird conversation over drinks tonight and I’m overthinking it.”

He could hear you audibly sigh. [I absolutely, one hundred percent, do NOT think you’re annoying. I get so excited whenever you call. When you called me yesterday when I was at Nami’s, she poked fun at me for lighting up when you called. She said it looked like I was glowing.]

Law smiled at the thought. Before he could continue speaking, though, you took a breath.

[I would never be annoyed with you, ever. If anything, I wish you could call more, but I know you have your big important responsibilities while you’re over there.] Your voice was uplifting, encouraging. Law’s chest felt lighter simply by listening to you talk. Oh, the power you held. [When you come home, I’m going to smother you in so many kisses to make up for whatever asshole made you feel shitty.]

“I’d love that, baby,” Law sighed into the receiver. “I miss you… I don’t think I’m cut out for long business trips.”

[You only have three more days, you can do it!]

Law had an image in his head of you excitedly pumping the air with your fist, your eyes bright and shining as you encouraged him to keep his head up and continue pushing forward with the incredible reward of returning home to your arms.

[And hey, when you come home, we’ll have a bunch of microscopic eggs in a petri dish at the fertility clinic hopefully being fertilized.]

Law’s heart swelled at the mere thought of tiny embryos growing to hopefully be successfully implanted into you. The process of preparing for the procedure had been so long to him and he couldn’t even begin to comprehend how you must have felt in the weeks leading up, but the way you had managed to stay strong through the entire duration was profoundly inspirational to him. You were truly one special woman.

[I’m going to get up and take Bepo out, but I’ll text you throughout the day to tell you how things went! Oh, and Law?]

“Yes, baby?”

[Don’t lose sleep over me. I can somehow see those eyebags through the phone. I promise I’m going to be okay, so get some rest, alright?]

Law smirked. You knew him far too well. “No promises.”

[Law…]

He sighed, a chuckle escaping his lungs. “Okay, I promise I’ll get some sleep. My hotel roommate’s in the shower right now, but when he’s done I’m going to clean myself up and get some rest. I’ll talk to you later, baby.”

He could hear the smile on your voice as you responded. [I love you, Law.]

“I love you, too, beautiful.”

—

“Shachi and Penguin are pussies,” Ikkaku groaned, crossing her arms over her chest in the chair that sat across from your small pre-op bed. “Afraid of some women’s health matters…”

You giggled at her frustration. “Well, I’m really happy that you were able to take today off and help me out, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course!” Ikkaku flashed you a charming, toothy grin. “Anything for my bestie. Besides, from what I read online, you’re gonna need some support to help deal with the pain.”

“It shouldn’t hurt that bad… they’re giving me local anesthesia, so I’ll only feel a little bit. At least, I hope that’s the case,” you replied with a nervous shudder. “You won’t have to deal with a loopy post-op me. Last time I had a procedure done, Law told me I didn’t stop gushing over him for almost six hours.” Your head fell into your hands, embarrassment painting your face.

Ikkaku laughed at your shameful state. “You can still tell me how much you love me while completely sober, though, right?”

You flashed her a cheeky grin. “Don’t test your luck.”

You struggled to admit it, but you were wildly anxious. The last time you talked to Law was when you returned his call a few hours prior, and thinking about him halfway across the world, probably (hopefully) fast asleep in preparation for another day of conferences was reassuring, but you had a residual ache in your heart that yearned for him to be with you. The weeks of synchronizing your cycle and taking hormone injections to mature your eggs was a long, boring, and tedious process, but it was all leading up to this very moment.

Now you just had to hope that some of your eggs were mature enough to fertilize… if they would fertilize at all.

“Mrs. Trafalgar?” A nurse stepped into your room with a clipboard, a few sheets of paper attached to the metal clamp. “I just need to have you sign a few forms and then we’ll take you in!”

You took the board and the pen from her grasp, wiping your hands on your hospital gown to rid your palms of your nervous sweat. You signed the release forms with a few quick strokes of your pen before handing the papers back to the nurse who happily took them from you.

“Alright, you’re all set! The doctor will be in shortly to take you back,” she explained before cordially nodding towards you and exiting the room.

Your foot was bouncing off the mattress. “Ahh… Ika… I’m so nervous.”

Ikkaku stood from her chair, crossing the room to be at your side. She rubbed her hand over your shoulder, her expression sympathetic yet encouraging. “You’re gonna do great, you’ll be in and out! 10 minutes, just like you said!”

“But what if my eggs aren’t mature? I’ll hear if they are before we leave…” You could feel your heart rate increase at the prospect of all your hard work in the past few weeks being for nothing.

“Hey, look at me,” Ikkaku demanded, her voice soft. She took your cheeks in her hands, turning your head to face her. “No negative thinking. Your eggs are probably more mature than an elderly person!”

You snorted, making her pull her hands away quickly and wipe them on her shirt. “That’s the comparison you make?”

“Geriatric eggs,” she confirmed, smirking at you. “But seriously, you’re going to be fine. I have a good feeling. And after you’re back here and the anesthesia is wearing off and we find out that your eggs are nice and mature, we’ll go and celebrate with some ice cream.”

Your mouth began watering at the prospect. “That does sound pretty good…”

“Exactly! So keep your chin up!” Ikkaku excitedly pumped her fists in the air, a sight that made your lips crack into a smile as you absorbed the excited, optimistic energy from your best friend.

“Knock, knock, Mrs. Trafalgar, are you ready?” The doctor overseeing your egg extraction peeked his head in.

You swung your legs over the side of your bed, holding the back of your gown closed with one of your hands. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good luck!” Ikkaku called as you followed the doctor into the small outpatient operating room.

You were starting to really dislike the feeling of paper and polyester clinic gowns, they way they were completely shapeless and stiff on your skin made you feel particularly vulnerable. You would much rather be naked to the open air than don a hospital gown, but you also quite liked not being locked up in jail. You bit down your discomfort and entered the small outpatient procedure room where you were instructed to lay back on the table and put your feet in the stirrups. You stared emotionless at the tiled ceiling, the bright white LED lights making your pupils constrict. You simply nodded through the nurses’ instructions and comments, quietly letting them insert an IV needle into your arm for fluids.

“We’re going to be using a local anesthetic that will be injected near the top of your vagina, and an ultrasound will be running to assist with locating your ovarian follicles,” the doctor explained, displaying the capped needle in his hand. “This procedure will only be around 10 to 15 minutes, but throughout the duration we will be injecting additional small doses of a low-level narcotic pain reliever so make sure you don’t experience any discomfort. Does that sound good?”

You gave a curt nod. “Yes it does.”

“Perfect. Please inform us if you feel any large amounts of pain, or any discomfort outside of your pelvic region.” The doctor turned his back on you, and your eyes resumed staring at the ceiling, your hands over your chest resting directly above your heart.

You felt a small pinch near your core that made you wince, but you kept your body still and tried to focus on your breathing. It didn’t take long for sensation in your hips and pelvis to dull, a strange, numb tingling sensation replacing any contact from the hospital gown pushed up around your waist. It certainly felt… strange. An additional small pinch was felt in the junction of your inner thigh, and a technician spread a generous amount of the familiar, cold ultrasound gel over your lower abdomen before placing the wand firmly against your belly and locating your ovaries through your layers of skin and muscle.

“We’re inserting the speculum now,” the doctor explained, making sure to keep you in the know of what exactly they were doing to you.

You kept quiet. A tugging sensation was felt in your lower body as the cold, metal speculum spread you open, but the anesthesia and pain relievers made it much more tolerable than any pap smear you had ever received. You kept your hands placed over your chest, linking your fingers together as if to secure yourself to the table.

“You might feel a sharper pain, we’re inserting the suction cannula and needle into your vagina.”

“Alright,” you replied, feeling too awkward to stay silent.

Sure enough, a much sharper yet still manageable cramping pain was felt as the suction tube and needle were inserted. You cringed as you felt them press sharply against the wall of your vagina, a sudden, stinging sensation radiating through your body as the needle punctured your inner walls and located your ovarian follicles with the help of the ultrasound machine. You sucked in a sharp breath, alerting one of the nurses.

“Doing alright, hun?” she asked, approaching your side. She was a much older woman, clearly a seasoned nurse, with a few small decorative enamel pins around the collar of her cotton uniform scrubs. She had a soft, motherly face as she gazed at you, her eyes assessing your condition.

“Y-Yeah… just a bit painful,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“We’ll give you another small dose of pain medication,” she confirmed, tossing you a sweet smile that melted any insecurity in your heart. “You’re doing amazing, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. Something about her seemed to fill the room with a sense of comfort despite having only known her for a mere few seconds. You barely felt the second injection of painkillers in your other thigh, your body slowly growing numb to the sensation of the cannula pressing harshly against your vaginal walls. The nurse came around the table again and rubbed your shoulder reassuringly.

“Still hanging in there, dear?”

“Yes, I am,” you nodded, speaking in a tired tone. “Thank you.”

Her response to your gratuity was another pat on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing to distract from the dull cramping that radiated throughout your lower body. It felt eerily similar to your miscarriages, with the only comfort in the thought being that you were in a supervised medical environment. Your thoughts shifted to your husband across the world from you. It was an understatement to say that you couldn’t wait for him to get home. You two had barely been without each other since you started dating, and while some have said that your shared lifestyle is only a recipe for relationship burnout, the two of you would adamantly disagree with that sentiment. Law was a rock, a stable sanctuary for your deepest and darkest fears, whereas you were a shining light in his life, bringing him hope when his days seemed to be at their bleakest. What some would call extreme codependency, you would simply call a healthy and mutually respectful relationship with your beloved husband.

God, you missed him.

“And we’re all done!” the doctor announced, ripping you from your thoughts.

“Already?” you asked, picking your head up as the nurse helped your partially numb feet down from your stirrups.

“Yup! We’re sending your samples to the lab to count how many eggs we were able to harvest, so while you wait for a bit in recovery we’ll get to counting,” he explained, taking off his gloves and washing his hands in the sink placed across the room.

The friendly nurse from earlier gave you a gentle pat on your shoulder once more. “You did so well, dear!” She assisted with helping you stand from the table. A pair of disposable panties were handed to you, lined with a thick pad. “You’re probably going to have some light spotting for a few days, you can take these off and replace them with your normal underwear and pads when you get home. Don’t use tampons for about two weeks while your vagina recovers, alright?”

You graciously accepted her help with stepping into the uncomfortable clothing. “Understood.”

You were more than wobbly on your feet, the localized anesthesia making you somewhat dizzy, so you were helped into a foldable wheelchair to push you back to the small outpatient recovery room where Ikkaku was still waiting for you. She stood enthusiastically from her seat when you and the nurse approached, a look of sheer anticipation in her eyes.

“How did it go?” she asked, helping you stand to lay down on the small, stiff mattress.

“I think it went pretty well,” you replied, finally getting to rest your head on a pillow with a content sigh.

The nurse turned toward your friend. “I take it, you're her ride?”

“Yes, ma’am!” the curly-haired brunette nodded. “Is there anything I should be aware of for home?”

“Make sure she’s drinking plenty of water and getting as much rest as she can. It might take a few hours for the feeling to come back in her legs.” She turned to you. “You’ll probably experience a few days of cramping, ibuprofen is more than enough to get you through it! If you experience any significant complications or issues, though, please call us back right away.”

You gave her a polite smile. “Thank you for everything.”

“Of course, sweetheart, it's my pleasure. The doctor will come back when your eggs are counted, and you should be good to leave then, but he’ll give you the discharge paperwork himself when he feels you’re ready.” With a friendly nod, she exited the room and closed the door slightly behind her, leaving it cracked open enough to give you and Ikkaku privacy until the doctor came back.

“So…” she asked. “Did it hurt?”

You laughed at her willingness to know the details. “A little, they stuck this suction tube up inside of me and a needle was pushed through that tube into my vaginal wall.”

Ikkaku held her hand out, a grimace on her face making her eyebrows crease in discomfort. “Alright, that’s enough talking from you.”

You shared a giggle at her weary expression. Once your conversation had simmered, you asked her for your phone so you could send a text to Law and let him know that you were in the recovery room waiting for your eggs to be counted. You tapped the send button and put your phone to sleep mode, knowing that he most likely wouldn’t respond to you for another few hours while he was sleeping. But the thought of him waking up to a positive text from you made your heart flutter. You knew he probably needed it, his voice sounded so tired when you called him back earlier that morning. An entire week of medical conferences and meetings with high-ranking colleagues from across the world would be enough to send anyone into an exhaustion coma, and the first thing you wanted to do when he arrived home was run him a nice bath, maybe light a nice candle, and cuddle him until he suffocated. With love, of course.

Almost 30 minutes of you and Ikkaku sitting in silence on your phones passed by before the doctor came back into your room with your discharge papers and a smile on his face. “Mrs. Trafalgar, we successfully extracted 12 eggs. 7 of them are mature enough for fertilization, which will begin as soon as we get your samples to the lab.”

Ikkaku beamed at you. “That’s amazing!”

You stood from your bed, your legs still fairly wobbly from the anesthesia, and signed the discharge papers that the doctor held. You gave him a fond smile. “Thank you so much.”

“Never a problem, I wish you all the best. Remember to call your usual clinic or us if you have any issues in recovery. Have an amazing day, ladies!” He held the clipboard with your papers firmly under his arm before nodding his head and leaving, keeping the door held open so you could leave whenever.

You took one step forward and almost immediately stumbled to the ground, Ikkaku scrambling for your arms to hold you upright. She looked panicked.

“Are you alright?” she asked, helping you lean against the end of the table.

You laughed under your breath. “I think my legs are still weak from the numbing stuff they gave me… might need to bring me to your car in a wheelchair.”

She gave you a mock salute and ran to a nurse’s station, returning with a small foldable wheelchair similar to the one you were put in immediately after your procedure. She wheeled you out to her car to take you home, cracking ‘grandma’ jokes along the way as if you were a nursing home patient being wheeled to the park.

For the first time in what felt like a millennia, your chest felt light.

A dozen eggs in a basket… or in your case, a petri dish.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #law x reader #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #op x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #i'm losing you

90 notes · View notes

thisismeracing · 8 months

Note

lewis + ache + angst

Ache | LH44

⸺ the one where he decides to break up with her to protect her. ✓ mentions of internet harassment.

⁕ one word, a thousand stories blurb night (closed) ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

She wanted him to find her, to fight for her, to keep trying. But for Lewis, each attempt to protect her, each demonstration of how deep his love was would only drag Yn far from the shallow, so much she would eventually hate him for drowning her in his world.

It wasn't just about the gossip pages, nor the constant hate messages and weird direct messages received, it was about how harassment like this takes a ton on you. Makes your heart harden. Turns you into someone who expects the worst first.

And that was not Yn. She was pure and happy, and always ready to help. Whereas people would assume the worst, she would try and talk first.

Lewis would never forget himself if she changed even the slightest because of him.

That's how he found himself whispering it was over. His voice came out small, just like his posture, because it felt like something was gripping his throat, the same hands that took his heart from his chest.

He had faced many pains in life, but no ache ever compared to this.

"Lew, please, you're hurting me. Hurting us," Yn whimpered with her face covered in tears.

The British could only shake his head, finally letting his tears roll down his cheeks too, "I'm saving you, love."

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: I hope you guys like itttt. Don't forget to reblog and leave me a message, I love when it happens *hugs and kisses*

#lh44 #requests #anon #millies inbox #lewis hamilton angst #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton blurb #f1 x reader #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #millie writes #one word a thousand stories blurb night #blurb night #blurbs #op: blurbs #queue

279 notes · View notes

futbol16 · 1 year

Text

We Go Get Her • Barcelona Femení

This is a bit heavy, just as a disclaimer

Request: This one is like the barca team x reader where the team knows you're struggling as your injury is getting the best of you. When you don't show up at the end of the year party, and none of the girls can get a hold of you they speed to your home. What they find, you can choose whatever, breaks their heart into a million pieces, Alexia Irene and Aitana almost passing out at the sight

Word count: 1,7k

“Where’s Y/N?” are the words that have Mapi lifting her drink away from her mouth and looking at Aitana with a shrug.

“She said she was going to come with Irene” she’s about to take another sip of her drink when the midfielder points towards the bar where Irene is talking to Marta and Lucy.

“Well Irene’s here, Y/N isn’t” Aitana wears an expectant look as she waits for Mapi to give an answer, the defender clueless to where you were.

“I don’t know about everyone’s whereabouts Tana” the blonde shrugged, this time taking a big gulp of the alcohol. She was far more interested in the closing of the year party than having to hunt down someone, she was sure you were fooling around with Claudia and Geyse somewhere.

“Is Ale here already? Ale always keeps her close” Ingrid joins the conversation as she leans into Mapi.

“Sí” is the short answer Aitana gives. It’s not like she’s panicking, but you had promised to buy her a drink after losing one of your many bets, she was also missing your company.

The three girls leave it at that however. They go on with their evening and whenever someone asks where you were, the answer is the same, with Claudia or Geyse. That reasoning is realistic until Geyse looks at Alexia in confusion at the question, shaking her head with a frown. And when just a second later Claudia waltzes over with Patri, Aitana’s eyes widen as she shares a look with the captain. No one had seen you since the party started an hour ago and no one knew where you were.

Immediately Alexia springs into action, Irene following as she reads the tense mood the girls have set and both of them type away at their phones. A message sent from Irene while Alexia is holding the device to her ear, impatiently waiting for you to pick it up and to hear your voice on the other side. It goes to voicemail though, which is when the panic sets in.

“Erm so what now?” Patri questions as she nervously rubs at her elbow, concerned expression mirroring those of everyone else.

“We go, we go get her”

The knocking on your door is drowned out by your cries and eventually Alexia gives up as she gets out her spare key, it was for emergencies, you said, but this was exactly that, an emergency. She slowly opens the door, poking her head in for any possible threat before she opens the door all the way and the team let themselves in. The place is dimly lit, only the light from the kitchen gives the otherwise dark room some sign of life.

All 23 of the girls look at each other in question as they stand by the now closed front door, waiting for someone to make the first move. A harsh tap to Alexia’s shoulder has her turning to the defender and Irene motions to her ear. The two of them look towards the direction of your kitchen as they hold their breath to hear anything and Alexia’s face drops as she finally recognizes the sound of you crying.

“Quédate aquí” (stay here) are the words the captain throws over her shoulder at the group before the two of them slowly make their way towards where they assume you are. Aitana is quick to follow, despite the clear ‘orders’ of the captain, as one of your best friends she needed to know if you were okay.

Upon entering the kitchen the two in front of her freeze for a second before they rush forward to where you’re sitting leaning against the cupboards, sobbing. Aitana grips onto the counter as she takes in the sight in front of her, her eyes wide. Broken glass pieces on the floor, a chunk of them already dumped in the bin, a half empty bottle of liquor on the other countertop and then finally her eyes stop on your form. Your hands are bloody, blood that you’ve smeared on your face a little as you hold your head in your hands crying and Aitana’s stomach churns.

Alexia has pulled you into her body while Irene is trying to clean your face and your palms, the both of them trying to calm you as they whisper reassuring words. Seeing you so weak and vulnerable broke their hearts, they thought of you very fondly, all of the team, the three women held their own tears back as they focused on you.

The small midfielder finally moves from her spot and she grabs the broom to clean up the last of the glass shards, Alexia gives her a thankful look from her place on the floor. Aitana makes eye contact with Mapi and Ingrid, Frido soon by their side as they look at her questioningly and she shakes her head at them. The three look at her worriedly, but she only turns back to you.

“Cariño what happened?” Irene’s words are the first you hear after finally regulating your breathing and the older woman moves the hair out of your eyes as she cleans the remaining red stains from your cheeks.

“I don’t know” you let out with a hiccup, Alexia shushing you as she lightly rocks the two of you side to side, the back of her hand caressing your now clean cheek.

“I was just taking a sip or two and then all of a sudden the glass l-like it just popped? I-it was an accident and then I wanted to clean it up” you sharply breathe in as you ramble out some of the words “And then it was just all too much a-and I’m just so tired of all of this” fresh tears roll down your face as you explain and the three of them share a look.

They knew you’ve been beating yourself up about your injury and how much you hated the long rehab, but they didn’t know you were in such a bad state. They’ve tried assuring you that you were doing great, even the physio had said your healing was ahead of schedule, but it simply just wasn’t enough for you, not when each day seemed a week long and you desperately wanted to be back to playing football.

As Irene inspects the small cuts in your palm she comes to the conclusion that the glass either broke in your hand or you cut yourself while trying to clean up the pieces. She nods at Alexia, who gestures to you and with Aitana’s help, they get you to your feet, though still in the captain’s hold.

“Come chica, let’s get you to the living room, yeah?” your best friend smiles at you gently and you nod at her, the two leading you to the couch where the rest of the team had ventured to while the four of you were away in the kitchen. They look up at you expectantly, worry clear in their eyes as Alexia pulls you into her lap sitting on the couch.

“You okay Y/N/N?” Lucy and Claudia speak at the same time and your mouth twitches upwards while you give them a gentle nod, Aitana hastily shaking her head left and right next to you, only confusing the team even more. Irene soon gets back this time with a first aid kit of sorts under her arm and she kneels before you, taking your hands in her own and pulling out different things. Gasps echo throughout the room as the cuts are displayed in front of the girls and you hide your face against Alexia’s neck who only holds onto you tighter, her gaze fixed on Irene assessing your cuts.

Aitana leans over the two of you as she wipes away a stray tear from your cheek and gently runs her fingers through your hair, calming you down. Sensing your anxiety from all the eyes on you, the girls decide to engage in small conversations, many of them asking you questions here and there to keep your attention elsewhere than on the stinging of the cuts as Irene fixes you up. But all of them keep an eye on you to make sure you’re doing all right, and it doesn’t take too long before Claudia and Geyse manage to put a smile on your face.

“We’ll stay Y/N/N, until you’re feeling better” Aitana informs you as you notice the time on her phone lock screen and the others eagerly nod, adding their own words of confirmation and eventually making themselves comfortable in the living room.

You smile at that, they cared for you so deeply and you couldn’t be more grateful. You attempt to move from your place on Alexia but the brunette’s arms tighten around your waist, pulling you back into her.

“Ah ah, I’m not letting you go now” the protectiveness is evident in her voice but you decide against pointing it out, instead giving her a quick kiss on the cheek to calm her worries.

“I just wanna change my hoodie, the sleeves are bloody” upon inspection Alexia nods at you and she lets you stand up though her arms reach out to steady you as you almost fall back into her when something is chucked in your face.

“Here, wear mine” Mapi sends you a wink, she figured it was the least she could do after paying more attention to her drink than your safety earlier in the evening. You tug the hoodie on, inhaling the comforting scent and cuddle back in the spot between Alexia and Aitana.

Your eyes drop as the exhaustion of your emotions and the day set in and you feel someone kiss you on the forehead, you open your eyes slightly to find Irene smiling back at you and you mutter out a quiet ‘thank you’ for her help.

As you push yourself further into someone’s embrace you thank whatever God that’s listening to you for giving you such a caring and loving team. You don’t know where you’d be without them.

#woso imagine #barca femeni x reader #futbol16 #alexia putellas imagine #aitana bonmati x reader

580 notes · View notes

minkilicious · 2 months

Text

K.HJ | Supermarket Flowers

Pairing: Idol!hongjoong x f!reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff (as far as I know) (I suck with determining genres)

Warnings: Talks about cheating, reader has deep (dare I say depressive) thoughts, small curse word usage (hell, shit, damn, goddamn, damned)

Wordcount: 2.1k

Rating: (SFW) PG-13

A/N: Omg y’all it’s finally here! My first Fic! It took me so long to finish this but I’m glad I powered through my writers block and got it done. The story may start a bit ‘eh’ and it may even be ‘eh’ all together but it’s okay. This is a learning experience and I know I have room for improvement. Friendly Feedback is always welcome! Please bear with me♥︎♥︎

proofread like 95%

Story is under the cut, Enjoy!♥︎♥︎

The hum of fluorescent lights filled the almost empty office as you sat hunched over your computer, the glow casting shadows across your fatigued face. The clock on your desk ticked relentlessly. You sat staring at the last of the files you needed to review and fix if needed, a task demanding more time than you had.

The hands of the clock on your desk crept closer to the end of the workday, you carefully gathered your belongings, feeling the anticipation of finally leaving the office. "Hey Cath," you called out to your supervisor, Cathryn, who was seated at her desk. "I've completed the files you sent over." With a gentle smile, You placed them on the corner of her desk and turned to make your way out. However, before you could take another step, Cathryn halted you. "Hey Y/N, could you please stay and take care of some other files for me? I understand that you've just finished the pile of files I sent last week, but these are extremely crucial. I would handle them myself, but I'm already swamped with offsite work, and I really need them before Wednesday." She stops, looking at me for an answer, even though you both knew there wasn't a 'saying no' option.

"Sure," you nod, walking out of her office with a new task at hand.

With a heavy sigh, returning to your desk you glanced at your phone, deciding it was a good time to call Hongjoong. You pressed his name, your heart sinking as the call went to voicemail. Clearing your throat, you left a quick message, your voice a mix of weariness and affection.

"Hey Joong, the office wants me to work late, some important files that Cath needs by Wednesday," you started, your words rushed but laced with a hint of longing.

"After that, I was going to stop by the store and pick up a few things. Did you need anything?" you ask. Mentally hitting yourself for not asking him before you left for work this morning.

You continue to speak "And maybe we could have a late date night or just Netflix and chill? I just know how busy you've been in the studio with the recent comeback, and I thought some one-on-one time would be nice. I miss you. Please call me back when you get this." you pause, "I love youu," you finished off the voicemail, your voice rising in a sing-songy tone before hanging up.

With a heavy heart, You returned your attention to your work, the computer screen blurring before your tired eyes. The thought of Hongjoong waiting for you at home brought a pang of guilt mixed with a yearning for his presence. You missed your lazy evenings together, the shared laughter and stolen moments of intimacy.

As the minutes turned into hours, You finally completed the daunting task that was put upon you abruptly, your shoulders sagging with relief. Checking the time, you realized the supermarket would be closing soon, and you still had to pick up supplies for the week ahead. Weariness clung to you like a heavy cloak as you gathered your belongings and made your way out of the office.

The streets outside were eerily quiet, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement. The chill of the night air cut through you, sending a shiver down your spine. Pulling your coat tighter around you, you hailed a cab and directed the driver to the nearest supermarket.

The aisles of the store were almost empty, save for a few late-night shoppers hurriedly grabbing their necessities. You moved through the maze of products, your mind preoccupied with thoughts of Hongjoong and your unfinished one-way conversation. You picked up items from the list you had hastily scribbled earlier, your steps quickening as you neared the checkout counter.

As you were placing your grocery items on the conveyor belt at the checkout counter, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. You turned to look and saw a solitary bouquet of flowers left on the display, and to your surprise, it was a beautiful arrangement of Marigolds. You stopped in your tracks, captivated by the striking colors and the delicate petals of the flowers.

As you stood there gazing at the bouquet, your mind began to wander off, and you found yourself lost in your thoughts. The Marigolds reminded you of Hongjoong. The vivid yellow and orange hues of the flowers were reminiscent of his warm smile, and the soft petals reminded you of his gentle touch.

You were so engrossed in your own world that you didn't hear the cashier trying to get your attention. She spoke up, "Miss?" twice, but you didn't respond. Finally, she spoke louder, "Excuse me, Miss? You're holding up the line, and it's 10 minutes till closing." You snapped back to reality, realizing that you had been standing there for quite some time, mesmerized by the Marigolds.

As you paid for the groceries and packed them into bags, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fumbled to retrieve it, your heart leaping when you saw Hongjoong's saved contact name pop up 'My 1 and Only' with a ring emoji next to it. Answering quickly, you were met with his warm voice.

"Hey, um..I just got your message." He paused. "No, I'm good. I don't think I need anything. and about that date night' Hongjoong pauses again before speaking once more. "I'm still at the studio working on this one part of the track. I don't think I'll make it home till late."

You frowned as he spoke. You weren't going to lie, hearing that he wasn't gonna be home till late sent an ache to your chest. You knew that Hongjoong's job was so important and meaningful to him but when he chooses his work over you time and time again, it hurts.

You tried to suppress the pain creeping into your chest and the sadness threading your voice before you broke the silence that had fallen over the call. "O-Oh. Well if you're that busy, I won't keep you." You fell quiet, silently hoping that he might change his mind.

Hongjoong hurriedly spoke again "Yeah.." he sighed before continuing. "I should probably get back to work." You were about to tell him you love him and to at least make sure he doesn't skip his meals and stays hydrated, he ended the call without even saying I love you.

You can't help but feel sad and unwanted; your eyes start to water, the salty tears threatening to fall down your cheeks at any given moment. You know Hongjoong loves you but he has a funny way of showing it which is what makes it hard to believe most of the time.

You hailed a cab and walked to the yellow and black car with groceries in hand. After putting them in the backseat, you slid into the backseat yourself and told the cab driver your address. You decided to stare out the window, feeling that it was best to avoid a potentially awkward conversation with the cab driver. As you watched, the supermarket disappeared from view, leaving only empty streets illuminated by street lights.

As you finally reach Hongjoong's apartment, you pay the cab driver and gather up the bags in your hands. You shut the cab door with your hip and walk up to the tall wooden door. With your free hand, you pull out the spare key from your purse – the one Hongjoong had given you – and insert it into the lock. You turned the key until you heard a click, then pushed the door open and stepped inside, you kick off your heels and set your purse on the table just inside the door. The familiar scent of Hongjoong mixed with the aroma of incense filled the air, you instantly felt right at home.

Walking over to the kitchen, you started to put the groceries away one by one until finally, you reached the last one. The bouquet of Marigolds. You rushed to take the old flowers out of the clear glass vase that recited on the bar marble top. In doing so an open wine bottle caught your attention. You walk over to the bottle sitting on the coffee table in the living room. Picking it up, you see that it is empty. You also see that two wine glasses are also on the coffee table in front of you.

Your mind starts to race, "If Hongjoong is home, was he waiting for you? did he just decide to come home? why did he lie and say he was going to be late? who the hell did he have over at this hour?" You look over at the clock on the wall, it reading half past 10. Making your way out of the living room towards the stairs, you feel your heart pounding harder in your chest.

"Joong?" you call out, but receive no reply.

Your heart races as you reach the slightly open bedroom door, the soft light casting eerie shadows on the walls. Pushing the bedroom door the rest of the way open, Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the scene before you - Hongjoong intertwined with another woman. Their bodies twisted together, sheets twisted around their limbs like a cruel embrace – Hongjoong's eyes meet yours, a mixture of regret and guilt flashing across his face. The room seemed to spin around you, the world tilting on its axis as you struggled to make sense of the betrayal laid bare before you.

The woman beside him was a stranger, her features blurred in the dim light, but her presence was a sharp dagger in your heart. You had shared your dreams, your fears, and your vulnerabilities with Hongjoong, only to be met with his ultimate betrayal.

The air crackled with tension as you stood frozen in the doorway, the realization sinking in like a lead weight in your chest. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over.

The silence that stretched between you was punctuated only by the sound of your own ragged breathing, the weight of months of love and disappointment pressing down on you like a heavy burden. You turned on your heel, walking out of Hongjoong's apartment, the night air cool on your burning skin.

A now clothed Hongjoong chases after you. "y/n wait!" he calls after you but you continue to walk away. Hongjoong catches up to you grabbing your arm causing you to pull your arm away from his grasp and face him. Hurt imminent on your delicate features.

Catching his breath, You stare at each other for a while before he breaks the silence. "Look, I can explain-"

Interrupting him you speak, "I don't want your explanations, Hongjoong. Cut the shit! We both know what I saw." The tears are already welling up in your eyes. The amount of anger and hurt you are feeling beginning to feel overwhelming.

Hongjoong stands there. Right now he wants to hold you close and tell you how stupid he is. How he wishes he could take it all back if he could, but all he can muster up is "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry? that's all you have to say?" You look at him dead in the eyes, "How could you do this to me? I trusted you! I never thought you would hurt me, not like this."

Hongjoong looks at you apologetically "I know, and I regret it. Please forgive me. I love you."

shaking your head "you love me? huh," you scoff "you love me so goddamn much you had to go sleep with another woman??" the tears from before falling down your now red, puffy cheeks.

Hongjoong reaches for your hand. "Please, just give me a chance to make it up to you. I'll do anything." You sigh. He cheats on you but yet he's pleading for you not to leave.

Removing your hand from his, "Joong, I can't. You shake your head as you continue to speak "I won't ever be able to trust you and I'll just question if you love me or not all the damn time, and you did this to me once and I'll be damned if I let you do it to me twice!"

You turn to make your exit. With one final glance over your shoulder, you saw Hongjoong standing alone on the sidewalk, a solitary figure against the darkened night. And with a heavy heart but a newfound strength, you turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving behind the echoes of his pleading words.

Walking back into his apartment, he stands there alone. Nothing but him and your Supermarket Flowers.

Taglist: @roguehongsami

apply for my taglist | m.list

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong angst #minkilicious #divider by cafekitsune #divider by benkeibear

133 notes · View notes