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#he will have no choice but to sit and deal with it because he's injured
eldritch-nightmare · 5 months
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i think if toby were near death and someone saved his life, he would immediately try killing them. and fail, obviously. because he is injured. he may not feel the pain but he is still very much human. and then i think he would take a moment to ponder and then hesitantly apologize. and i think it could spiral from there into yandere territory if i give it enough thought.
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tfrinpin · 2 months
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Hullo. I am amongst the living.
This little idea kept nagging at me, so here we are: TFP where Op goes ✨FERAL✨
So y’know that whole shtick about “they had a secret relationship all along?” Well this is sort of like that, basically— yes, Megs and Op have had a secret relationship ever since the Orion arc. Megs kept in contact because he missed Optimus SO MUCH. And the war has been going on for so long. Also they can fix Cybertron together. But MOSTLY Megs missed Optimus.
Things go along, now they’re definitely considering peace time and even drafting a treaty to share with their respective factions.
But a little bump in the road comes in the form of someone that Megs DID NOT expect to see— MegaZarak. And instead of Zarak heavily injures Optimus or tortures him, like a previous idea I’ve had before— I’ve thought of something a little more heart wrenching. Shit goes down right when Prime and Megs are about to establish peace: Zarak beats out Megs from the title as leader of the Decepticons. He retreats, and escapes via ground ridge thanks to Optimus and the crew. Knockout, BreakDown, SW, and DreadWing follow after him, ever the loyal soldiers (and they also dont want to deal with Zarak). But Optimus gets nabbed just before he jumps through the ground bridge, and he’s now a prisoner to Zarak. So to fuck with Megs even more, Zarak uses the Botched Synthetic Energon to make Op go FERAL.
Like he’s a literal beast on a leash, fangs and all— and Megs, when staging a rescue operation, is torn because he doesnt want to hurt Op, but he has no choice because OP IS FERAL AND HE WILL LITERALLY GET HIS FACE RIPPED OFF. Optimus’ optics are the striking green just like when Ratchet messed around with it earlier on in the series. (Don’t do drugs kids)
He’s got Optimus pinned and he’s trying disparately to pierce through the feral veil that’s blinding the Prime. And there’s a small, tiny moment where Optimus calms down, and his optics flash blue. He tries to speak but his words are staticky and jumbled. Megs reaches out a soothing hand over Op’s face, but unfortunately the touching moment is short lived when Optimus’ optics flash green again, and he goes back to fighting like a rabid animal.
Megs has no choice to knock Optimus out and take him to the wreckage of the Harbinger where both bots and cons have established a new base since the one is Jasper got blown to bits. So Megs is looking through the cell door of the brig, watching as a feral Op is chained to a wall, snarling, growling, and trying to rid himself of his bindings. Ratchet establishes that it’ll probably take days, maybe WEEKS to flush the botched synthetic energon from Prime’s frame. Megs, ever the stubborn mech, refuses to give up on his Prime— so he sits, and waits, and assists where he can in order to bring his Prime back to himself.
So yeah, an idea where Optimus is pretty much having to be treated like a wild beast the whole time until they can get the botched synth energon out of him.
You’re welcome.
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raysrays · 2 months
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Crimson Guardian NSFW
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Kyojuro Rengoku x Wife! Reader
18+ MDNI!🚫
CW: NSFW Content, minor angst, controlling/manipulating behavior, fluff-ish.
Y/N POV
Scenario : You've recently married into the respected Rengoku family, and while you continue your work as a demon slayer, life starts to get a bit messy. Balancing your duties becomes a real challenge as you navigate the challenges of married life. You find yourself having to make tough choices just to keep your husband happy, all while debating to stay true to yourself and your calling as a demon slayer.
Marriage. Truly one of the most beautiful milestones a couple can achieve. Marrying Kyojuro has undoubtedly been my greatest accomplishment.
I still remember it vividly, as if it were yesterday. Surrounded by friends, family, and core members, we pledged our lives to each other. Though it wasn't the most glamorous wedding ever seen, it was enough. Because really, all I've ever wanted was Kyojuro, and now, finally, I have him.
For the first few months, our marriage was nothing short of perfect. I moved into the Rengoku estate with Kyojuro's family, assisting Shenjuro with chores and gradually trying to get closer to Shinjuro. Though I'm not sure how successful I was.
It was only six months in that I realized being a demon slayer and a wife wasn't as easy as I thought.
Before our relationship, I was Kyojuro's Tsuguko. He was simply my mentor, and I trained hard under him to get myself where I am today. It was later down the road that we noticed each other's lingering gazes, the occasional flirting, and all the other subtle hints of wanting to be more.
Kyojuro was strong, and I knew he wanted a family, but I simply wasn't ready to give up training and my duties as a demon slayer just yet.
Every day, after helping out around the estate, I would hike over to HQ and pick up where I had left off the previous day, training until the late hours of the night. I would often come home exhausted, which usually caused Kyojuro to worry. As much as I reassured him, he never seemed fully convinced.
Now, here I was, sitting at the dinner table with Kyo across from me. It was a rare occasion for us to eat alone together like this. We made small talk about our day and training, and then he finally stopped eating and put his silverware down.
"Little Flame, I think it’s time we have a serious discussion about the way things have been as of late,” his usual happy smile seemed almost nervous.
I set my spoon down on my plate, giving him my full attention.
“Yes? What is it?”
“Sunflower, you have been working so hard as of late, and it’s quite admirable. I truly admire your dedication to the demon slayer corps and your training!”
“But…?” I ask, confused.
“But… since our marriage, I’ve found myself in constant worry over you. Every time you go on a mission without me, I have to painfully wait for your return. Not knowing whether or not you'd be injured or even-“
“Dead?” I finish.
I saw his body tense up at the word.
“Yes, my love. Dead. I cannot even bear the thought of you never returning to me. It pains me to my core,” he seemed so sad, so worried about me.
I know Kyojuro, I know he didn’t mean anything bad by what he was saying. However, I felt almost offended. He too was a slayer, a hashira. I also had to deal with the fear of him returning with serious injuries or even never returning at all.
Did he believe me to be incapable of protecting myself? He was the very one who trained me. Even though I knew Kyojuro was strong, much stronger than me, it just felt like he lacked faith in me.
“You don’t think I’m strong enough anymore? Do you think marriage has made me soft?” I realized I might have come off a little too harsh, but my emotions were getting the best of me.
His expression seemed surprised, but I could tell. While he may not have used those words, that was definitely the gist of it.
I watched him get up from his place at the table and walk over to me. He pulled my chair out from under the table, then grabbed my hands and kneeled down in front of me.
His big, bright eyes were now staring up at me.
“You are one of the strongest people I know, my love. I know how capable you are, but please remember…”
He brought my hands to his lips, kissing them softly.
“You are my wife before you are a demon slayer. I cannot risk sending you off only for you to never return.”
I could practically hear the desperation and love in his voice.
Kyojuro wasn’t someone who would usually discourage anyone from pursuing something they're passionate about. So if he was now, I knew that it’s something he’s been internally battling with for a while.
“What about you? Is it not the same? What about my worry? What if you never come home to me?” I could feel my face start to heat up. Everything he was saying seemed to come from genuine care, but it felt so hypocritical.
“I am a Hashira, my little flame. I have a certain responsibility you do not have to burden yourself with. I shall retire soon, in just a few years. So please…”
There’s no way he’d ask me-
“Please retire your sword, Y/N. Please stay home for me. Please allow my heart to rest easy knowing you'll be here waiting for me whenever I shall return,” his voice was pleading.
I felt so conflicted. I’d worked so hard. All of these years of training to hopefully become a high-ranking swordsman myself. However, at the same time, I never stopped to consider my romantic life and how being married would affect things.
We both sat there in silence for a few moments, and I finally rose up from the chair, pulling him up off his knees along with me.
I looked up at him, reaching my hand up to rest on his cheek.
“Kyojuro, you are the only one I would retire my sword for. So please promise me, promise me you will always come home to me. Until the day you yourself retire.”
“I promise you, Sunflower. As long as I know you are safe and waiting for me, there is no demon that could ever keep me away.”
I felt his hand on my lower back and the other holding up my chin.
We both leaned in, our lips meeting in a tender kiss.
This kiss started so gently, so lovingly at first. As we pulled away for just a moment, staring into each other’s eyes, we realized how long it had been since we really enjoyed each other’s company.
After that, the kiss only grew hotter and more passionate.
Kyojuro swept me off my feet and carried me straight to our shared room at the back of the estate, the most private spot. It seemed fitting for newlyweds, after all.
As he gently laid me back on the soft futon, I couldn't help but stay focused on him. Kyojuro was simply beautiful. His hair, his eyes, his body, everything about him looked like he was perfectly sculpted.
My admiration was interrupted as I felt him begin to kiss me again. One of his hands traveling to my breasts, gently squeezing it.
The other massaging my thigh.
I feel him pull away from me starting to kiss on my neck traveling all the way down to my chest.
Kyojuro had always known my weak points and how to make me say yes to his every request. He knew my body just as well as I did, and now he was taking full advantage of that knowledge.
I could feel him pressing against me as he moved his hand down my body, lightly touching me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me, wanting more.
Then I heard, Kyojuro's soft voice whisper these words, almost as a demand. "Enjoy this little flame, you've kept me waiting far too long.”
As soon as those words left his lips, I felt myself begin to relax. His movements were so gentle, so careful, so loving.
His fingers trailed down my sides, sending chills through my body. His hands went back up and caressed my neck, making me tremble. He kissed me once more, and I melted into him.
It was as if he had cast a spell over me, and all I could do was obey him. He was completely in control of me.
After a moment, I felt him move back down and remove my underwear, revealing my already wet entrance. His hand slid between my thighs, and I couldn't help but let out a moan as his finger slipped inside me. He was gentle at first, just barely grazing me, but it felt incredible.
"Is this okay?" he asked softly, his breath hot against my ear.
I nodded but I could tell that wasn’t enough for him.
“Use your words my love.” He demanded sweetly.
“Yes Kyo, it’s perfect.” I said, my voice trembling.
He leaned down and kissed my lips before pulling back again, smiling at me.
"I want to be inside of you," he whispered, his voice filled with desire.
"Please," I begged.
He removed his fingers, replacing them with his cock, his tip rubbing against my clit.
"Good girl," he whispered, thrusting into me.
I threw back my head, arching my back and digging my nails into his shoulders. His movements were slow and deep at first and then they became faster and harder, and soon my whole body began to shake. I couldn't stop the moans from escaping my lips, and I couldn't help but beg for more.
When he starts to speed up I know we are both about to reach our limit.
I feel his fingers interlock with mine and his lips pressing against mine again, but this time, he wasn’t just kissing me, he was also letting his teeth graze my bottom lip.
He was biting down hard enough to draw blood.
We were both so close and we were both trying to hold back but we couldn’t anymore. We were finally going to let ourselves release.
I was the first one to let myself go, arching my back as I moaned his name.
Then he followed not too far behind.
After he finishes, we just lay there for a bit catching our breath.
“I love you, Y/N,” he finally breathed out, turning his head to look at me.
I turned to face him as well. “I love you, Kyojuro.”
After that, the two of us drifted off in each other's arms for the rest of the night.
The next morning when I awoke, I was still trapped wrapped in Kyojuro's arms.
After a bit of struggling, I managed to maneuver my way out and make it to the kitchen.
There I saw Senjuro, who was already preparing breakfast for everyone.
“Good morning, Sen,” I greeted with a yawn.
“Oh, good morning, Y/N!”
“I'm almost finished with breakfast. Is my brother awake yet?”
“He should be awake soon. We both have to see Master Kagaya today,” I said, rubbing my eyes.
He stopped to turn and look at me.
“Did something bad happen?” he asked nervously.
Poor Senjuro always assumes the absolute worst in every situation. Well, I suppose in this case it’s somewhat understandable.
“No, Sen, nothing's wrong. Kyojuro and I are just going to inform Master Kagaya of my retirement. That’s all.”
He gave a puzzled look.
“Retirement? Why? Haven’t you been training for years to improve your sword skills to move up in the ranks?” he asked.
He was right. I know I shouldn’t go back on my word to Kyojuro, but I really was having second thoughts about my decision.
Senjuro could probably sense my doubt because his next response was:
"If this is something that you're not sure of, then you shouldn't do it. If you have doubts about this decision, then maybe you're not ready for retirement just yet."
His words really struck a chord with me.
Maybe he was right.
Before I could ponder that any further, Kyojuro had made his way into the kitchen.
"Good morning! How are my two favorite people doing?" he said cheerfully.
I smiled.
"Morning, Kyo. Did you sleep well?"
"I did, actually. Thank you, little flame," he walked over to me, giving me a kiss.
I could feel my chest tightening, nervous about what was to come.
The whole time at breakfast, I felt so spaced out. All I could hear was Kyojuro and Senjuro talking and the occasional grunt from Shinjuro drinking away at the table.
“Sunflower? Are you okay?”
I was snapped out of my daze by Kyojuro waving a hand in front of my face. All three of them were staring at me, kind of concerned.
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”
I shook my head a little and looked down at my plate. I felt bad for Senjuro going through all that trouble to cook, but I simply couldn’t eat right now.
After we finished breakfast, Kyojuro and I headed out.
The thought that this would be the last time wearing my uniform with my sword by my side was so weird and almost uncomfortable to me.
I knew that this day would come eventually, but I always hoped in the back of my mind that Kyojuro would be the one to retire before me.
I had been so focused on training and my duties as a demon slayer that it had never even occurred to me how my marriage would affect everything.
I was now a wife. My first priority should be the estate, and helping Shinjuro while he was in his state of grief, and being there for Senjuro as well.
It wouldn’t be right of me to go against my husband's wishes either. Especially after the intimate moment we shared. Right?
As we made it to HQ waiting to speak with the master I felt my heartbeat racing inside of me.
The room was quiet, I could feel Kyojuro’s eyes lingering on me but I couldn’t bring myself to face him right now.
Both mine and Kyojuro’s attention was shifted as we heard the door open and Master Kagaya entered the room.
"Rengoku, Y/N. It's a pleasure to see you both," Kagaya said, his face as warm as ever.
"It's wonderful to see you too, Master," I replied.
"So what brings you two here? It seems urgent, judging by the fact that you came in so early."
"It is very urgent," Kyojuro began.
He then proceeded to explain our conversation from the night before, and how I was considering retiring.
"Y/N, this is a big decision, and it's important that you feel comfortable and confident in it. Do you think you can fully retire, knowing you won't be able to assist the demon slayers as you are now?" Kagaya asked.
I looked at the master and then glanced at Kyojuro. He seemed so proud and happy that we were here. I could feel the warmth radiating from him.
But, I could also sense the worry in his expression. He was nervous, scared almost.
I couldn't do that to him.
"Master, I've spent most of my life training for the opportunity to become a hashira. To serve the demon slayer corps and protect those who cannot protect themselves. But...I'm no longer just a demon slayer. I'm also a wife, and as such, I think it's only right that I focus on that," I answered.
The room fell silent for a moment.
"If you truly feel this is the right choice, then we support you, Y/N," Kagaya finally spoke.
"Thank you, Master," I bowed.
"Thank you so much, Master! I will never
forget your kindness!" Kyojuro bowed as well.
The two of us left the room and started to head out.
As we exited, we ran into a few of the other Hashira, who asked us about what we had gone to see Master Kagaya about.
They too seemed surprised and a little concerned when Kyojuro explained to them that I would be retiring so soon.
I could tell some of their reactions to the news annoyed Kyojuro. Shinobu used the word “controlling,” and you could see his smile almost falter.
"Controlling" was never a word I would have used to describe my husband. He just loves me, right? He wants to protect me. There's no way my sweet and kind Kyo would ever do anything to control or manipulate me.
Right?
Part Two
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oharabunny · 7 months
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imagine being miguel's live-in doll
Description: You're kind of a loser and horrible at taking care of yourself so much so that he takes it upon himself to be your one and only caretaker.
Word Count: 2271
Warning: yandere!Miguel, OOC!Miguel, coercion, fem!afab!Reader, pitiful!Reader, Author projecting their problems, not beta read
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So let’s say your universe collapsed and you were the only one that Miguel managed to save.
Since you have no universe to return to, he allows you to stay in HQ and provides you with a modded dimensional watch to keep you from disintegrating.
You have your own room and access to the amenities in HQ like the cafeteria and the training center. 
Honestly you hit the jackpot because before your universe collapsed you were a loser who barely scraped by for your shitty apartment. You never graduated college, and you job hopped between minimum wage jobs.
The catch was that you are not allowed to leave the premises. Apparently the outside world is too dangerous and overwhelming for someone of your time. For a while, you didn’t seem to have an issue.
First couple months passed, and you loved having no responsibilities and being able to laze around, but you quickly found that to be very boring PLUS you had survivor’s guilt and wanted to be useful for Miguel, who saved you.
So you ask him for a job to do and he seems a little impressed. You are just an ordinary human so he gives you the job as his assistant that doesn't handle sensitive and complicated information. 
He may have regretted a little for assigning you a job because now he sees you as a clumsy oaf. It’s not like you couldn’t do your job properly, but you always somehow trip, fall, scrape, and bump into everything. Not a single day were you not mildly injured.
What sealed the deal one day was when an anomaly broke out in HQ and you were caught in the crossfire.
Basically, you are never going to have freedom ever again.
You are rushed to med bay and diagnostics concluded that your injuries are not life threatening, but for some reason he never left your side. Was it pity? It couldn’t be, because pity wouldn’t make him stay while you healed.
He basically wouldn’t let you discharge until every single cut on you was healed and sealed. 
When you are discharged, he tells you that you’re no longer sufficient for the job and will be promptly relocated to a safehouse aka his apartment. 
You almost fought him on the spot because you enjoyed your job and being able to socialize with the other Spider people. (Which you didn’t know had him seething)
Also, you would be a horrible roommate.
He didn’t give you much choice because it was either his apartment or be homeless.
You couldn’t risk being homeless in a futuristic society with nothing but the clothes on your back. 
He personally escorts you to his apartment and to no one’s surprise it was luxurious and spacious. However, it was plain and boring like his taste.
You have free range in his apartment since there was nothing particularly important stashed there. All of it would be at HQ anyway. He practically lives there.
While he did give you a salary when you had your job, but not enough to sustain yourself forever since he fired you. So, he lets you use his credit card to order groceries and whatever you want within reason. And yes he will be monitoring every purchase.
And of course, he also tells you you’re not allowed to leave the apartment. For any reason. Unless you have his explicit permission.
And if you ever do try to leave, the door has a very loud alarm when opened and he is immediately alerted. Even if you manage to get three steps out of the apartment building, he’ll haul your ass back. 
Or if you actually do make it into the streets, he has your location pinged in real time from your dimensional watch that he also made completely locked to your wrist (to your dismay cuz it’s so ugly and clashes with your outfits).
Man, you just wanted to go for a walk.
But he’ll just tell you to sit on the balcony that is completely sealed all around only allowing light in so don’t even bother trying to jump.
Anyways.
Since he won’t be coming by often, you can basically redecorate and redesign it to suit your preferences. If anything, he encourages it.
It was fun for a while, but having no structure in life caused you to spiral. As a certified loser with executive dysfunction, you ordered take out and instant food everyday, left trash to build up over time without taking it out, slept and woke up at random hours of the day, and showered once a week.
He definitely knows you are spiraling. He hid many many cameras all over his apartment before taking you here.
He comes by unannounced one day while you are sprawled on the couch, sleeping, with the TV running.
Yeah he cleans everything and takes out all your trash. He wakes you up. You’re startled. And he just tells you that you need to shower.
Man how embarrassing is that. You stank like butt.
You apologized profusely, but he doesn’t seem to care. He wasn’t mad but he definitely pitied you.
You go to the bathroom right away to take a shower and he follows you.
You’re like wtf get out.
He then exposes the fact he knows you’re a clumsy idiot who definitely slipped and hit your head multiple times before.
Still, you think he doesn’t need to watch you shower right? RIGHT???
Wrong, he is going to personally wash you head to toe.
Yeah you are definitely fighting his ass off because you two are not that close and also you’re not handicapped! But he keeps treating you like one.
You kept struggling and kicking him like a baby which did annoy the shit out of him so he bit you so his venom can paralyze you.
He strips you bare and tests the water temperature before setting you down on the shower bench. He is very thorough with you. He scrubbed every spot and yes even your private parts which made you think he was trying to cop a feel.
Oh boy when he starts to wash your hair, you literally melted. Why is this man giving you a full scalp massage???? 
He even dries you off, lotions your body, and gives you a full skincare routine. WHY DOES HE KNOW YOUR SKINCARE ROUTINE??? 
Yeah and he also dries your hair off and comb it too. He would style it if he wasn’t too tired that day.
Bruh, he even cuts and buffs your nails and toenails. Applying creams and massages them.
The paralysis seems to wear off around your head and neck area so you’re able to eat and drink. He cooks your favorite dish but he has you drink water as your beverage because you kept having soda so he thinks you should be barred from beverages that weren't water.
And since your body is still paralyzed, he hand feeds you. And for some reason when it comes to helping you drink some water, he spits it into your mouth like a mama bird. And if you weren’t going to open your mouth, he would kiss you.
Now you’re wondering why he’s even here. Why was he doing all of this?
The only answer he tells you is that you’re pathetic and you need someone to take care of you. He took a week off just for you.
You argued with him that he doesn’t need to do all that but he insisted and said you can work through it together.
You think he was going to help you manage your executive dysfunction but nah he was going to do all the housework himself for the whole week and hang out with you. 
Well he does try to give you a schedule for when you wake up, what to eat (he literally made you precooked food all labeled and everything), when to work out (he bought you workout gear), and what else you can do in between until when you have to sleep.
He says he’ll come by more often to check up on you so you don’t spiral again. (Which still includes him doing all the housework and washing you)
He went from coming by once a week to every other day, but he usually visits at night. You wondered how he wasn’t drowning in work right now like he usually does.
And every time he visits, he’s taking care of everything you forget to do like when you left dirty dishes in the sink to clean for later. 
He makes you take showers with him and it always involves him washing you first before he washes himself. He’ll let you help wash his back though.
He even started making you sleep in the same bed as him and it was hell because he would snore and cough like a dying engine. He keeps you trapped in his arms and legs, and you being a smol bean makes it impossible for you to escape. 
He’ll literally start dressing you up, brushing and styling your hair, and doing your makeup every morning even if you want to do it yourself. But it’s interesting to see what he finds attractive on you.
At one point he decides that it was time y’all should get married and have a baby since he literally takes care of you like a baby anyway.
You’re reluctant because you still wanted to figure out what you wanted in life, but because he’s not someone who wastes time in getting what he wants, he’ll just tell you that you can figure it out after you give him your hand in marriage and babies. 
You can’t figure out if you hate him or you like him because he does a lot of things without your consent and doesn’t allow you to make your own choices in almost anything, but you also appreciate the sheer amount of effort he makes JUST to take care of you on top of being Spiderman. Plus he’s hot as hell.
In terms of marriage, he doesn’t care for weddings and wants to keep it lowkey. It may sadden you if you love weddings, but it’s not like you have any friends and loved ones anyway. He just wants to have a domestic life with you right away and is not a huge shower. 
He’ll make it up to you with the best honeymoon you can ask for. <3
And honestly, especially now that you two are married, he’s going to be a lot more physically affectionate with you and expects you to be the same. Especially whenever he comes home after work, he’s dying for you to pepper kisses and hug him.
The idea of giving birth scares the shit out of you especially when you hear stories of men finding their wives disgusting or how they aren’t there for you in the process or god forbid the husband stitch.
He doesn’t do any of that. He literally worships your body and tbh he’ll be even more proactive in making your life easier that you don’t even lift a finger.
He’ll be on paternity leave so that means he’s gonna stay in the apartment 24/7.
Also, he seems the type to have multiple kids. So, uh, prepare yourself.
And honestly, his controlling and overprotective tendencies are dialed up to the nines after you give birth.
He will watch your every move like a hawk. He’ll hand feed you in every meal. Most of the time he just carries you instead of letting you walk to where you want to go. He blows your nose if it’s stuffy. Massage you when you’re sore. Always being the one to remember when you need to take your medications. Like, literally everything.
And at first when your kids are still babies, he’s extremely protective of them in the same way he is with you. Like taking care of all their bathing and feeding. But as they grow older he definitely loosens his protective hold a little and teaches them skills that helps them learn to be independent.
He even takes them to school, but he usually insists that you stay home until you fight him that you have the right to see your kids at school too.
He still literally does everything in the house and doesn’t let you lift a finger because he partially doesn’t trust you not to hurt yourself.
Which makes your own children think you’re sickly and weak. Because sometimes Miguel would have the kids help you when he’s unable to like delivering your breakfast to your room or doing your dishes.
Ironically, your own children have more freedom and independence than you do.
If he ever does let you go outside, he would be gripping your hand the entire time he doesn’t care if you’re sweating. Or if he has to let go, then his hand has to be somewhere on your body. If not, he will just leash you like a toddler. 
Now, I haven’t mentioned how you guys bond, and to briefly sum it up: he is interested in getting to know you such as your personality quirks, hobbies, favorite food, favorite color, etc etc. He does take into consideration what you like especially in terms of aesthetics (you have better taste than him). But if you do anything that could lead you into independence or potential to hurt yourself, he immediately shuts it down. 
Honestly, you don’t really get why he does it and how he’s not tired of you, but he enjoys that you’re his doll to take care of. And you can sure as hell bet he's taking care of you until your deathbed. (Imagine him still taking care of all of your needs when he's too old and wrinkly too and ngl that's romantic ❤
A/N: Okay I got a little tired of trying to compress my ideas while trying to describe how exactly crazy this yandere caretaker Miguel would be (even though he would 100% not act like this at all especially if you’re incredibly dysfunctional and unable to take care of yourself with ADHD like me). I rewrote like 4 times to not overwhelm you guys in detail. Even though at the same time, there were areas of detail I didn’t know how to get into. I also at some point lost all my writing and started over again. (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) Sorry if this wasn’t really well written it’s like 6 am right now. I kind of wanna rewrite it when my brain is more organized but I just wanna shoot my idea out there first.
Idk I might delete this later.
I wanted to like credit my inspos to @jessamine-rose for their fic and the manga “My Childhood Friend is Overprotective” by Kumanami Sae (you should check it out it’s so cuteeee)
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vivwritesfics · 2 months
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Jester Stole His Thorny Crown
Chapter Two
He never had a choice in his life. His dreams were nothing more that that. Dreams. But then he met a lounge singer at his brother club and everything changed.
Mafia!Au
1.3K
Warnings: drugs (not taken), gun violence
Series Masterlist
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"I've done your dirty work," said Charles as he entered his mamans apartment and strode over to the couch. Arthur was still sat there, a sling holding his injured arm. It took everything Charles had in him not to reach out and punch that arm. "All three clubs are fully stocked."
Arthur sat up quickly, all traces of a smile gone from his suddenly pale face. "Even the lounge?" He asked, urgency in his voice.
Nodding his head, Charles looked at his little brother. "All three clubs," he insisted, and Arthur swore under his breath.
"Charles, I don't deal in the lounge," he said as he held his arm. "It isn't that sort of club."
"No offence," began Charles as he sat beside his brother and accepted the tea offered to him by his maman, "but I take orders from Lorenzo, not you," he said and sipped the tea.
Arthur let out an audible sigh. "The stuff isn't going to get moved in the lounge," he said. "It's not a place where young adults want to get fucked up or where men do dodgy deals in the back. It's a place where people come to enjoy live music and drink a little. It's not gonna get sold there and Lorenzo is gonna be pissed at you."
Charles let out an exasperated sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay then, what do you normally do with the drugs?" He snapped.
Looking down at his injured arm, Arthur looked almost ashamed. "I dress down and... I sell them in alleyways," he admitted.
Charles hit his injured arm. "What the Hell are you going?!" He shouted. "Arthur, you're not canon fodder! Why are you going out there and trying to get yourself killed?"
"What else am I supposed to do?" Arthur hissed at his brother. "If I leave them sitting in the safe, Lorenzo would kill me."
"Lorenzo doesn't want you to get killed! He doesn't want you out there selling drugs!"
Arthur let out a sigh. They could go around like this for hours, with neither of them coming to agree. "What did you think of her?" He asked somewhat quietly.
It took Charles aback. "Who, the pianist?" He asked, but he knew he was right. Who else would Arthur be talking about.
He nodded his head. "I thought you'd like her," Arthur finished. "Just... go tonight and see what it's all about. You'll understand why I don't sell there, trust me."
Charles said nothing. He stood from the sofa and walked to the kitchen to say goodbye to maman. "Take it easy on him, Charles," She said as she straightened his lapel. "He just wants to be like you and Lorenzo."
"He's not ready, maman. He still acts like a child," Charles spat as he looked to the window.
"Do as he asks," said Pascale. "You know how much the lounge means to him."
Charles couldn't say no to his maman. He nodded his head and kissed her cheek before setting off to do more work for Lorenzo.
Lorenzo didn't have much for Charles to do. He was in and out of meetings with the Ferrari's, the Hamilton's and the Vettels all day. Charles was left to do his admin work for him, stuck in the office all day. Thank god the office had an amazing view.
When the books and paperwork were sorted, Charles left the office. He sat in the cat for just a moment, deciding what to do.
But he had a promise to his mother that he had to keep.
Charles drove how he always drove, like he thought he was a fucking race car driver. Others on the road got out of his way and he parked rather carelessly, as always.
The lounge didn't have a line outside of it like the rest of the clubs owned by the Leclercs. Charles scoffed as he pushed the door of his car shut and walked towards the lounge.
But then he opened the door to the lounge.
The chatter was loud, but only because there was so much of it. The music wasn't playing yet, but every single seat was filled. Charles walked over to the bar and got himself something to drink. On the house, of course. The bartender wouldn't dare to charge him.
The stage was empty, aside from the piano. He couldn't help but look around for some sign of her, but she was nowhere to be seen.
The lights dimmed and the audience went quiet. A spotlight was pointed at the piano and Charles felt himself consumed by the atmosphere of the lounge. The audience was clearly excited, and he was too.
She walked up onto the stage. Charles almost didn't recognise her, a far cry from the dressed down girl he had met earlier in the day. He didn't think much of her then, when he was there to do a job. But now, in that long black dressed, hair done flawlessly, Charles couldn't pull his eyes away.
The audience clapped as she sat at the piano. She pressed a few keys and the clapping stopped.
The song started slow. It wasn't a slow song, but that was how she started it. But quickly it was up to it's tempo and the song properly began. It was just the piano, no accompanying instruments, and her voice.
It was only when she started singing that Charles recognised the song. An eighties rock, maybe pop, song that he'd heard through his childhood.
It was a piano cover of a song that was usually filled with many instruments, but she did it perfectly. Charles sipped his drink as she pressed the keys fluidly, recreating the guitar solo.
As soon as the song was finished she grabbed the microphone and turned to the audience. "Hello everybody and welcome to the lounge," she called and the audience clapped and cheered. "Tonight is oldies night so relax, get yourself something to drink and sing along is you know the words," she called an a member of the audience whooped.
She turned back to the piano, put her microphone back and began playing once again.
She played three songs before taking a break. She left the stage and disappeared into one of the back rooms. Charles left his drink on the bar and followed after her. He knew there would be one topped up and waiting for him when he got back.
"Hey," Charles called as he followed her into the room beside the back office.
She visibly jumped. "Mr Leclerc," she said, her hand against her chest, her glass of water shattered by her feet. "Shit," she whispered as she bent down to pick it up.
"I'll get somebody to clean it up," he said and snapped his fingers at one of the staff members on the main floor. They immediately dropped what they were doing and came to clean it up.
"You're... really good at the piano," he said as she accepted another glass of water from the staff that cleaned the first one up.
A small, nervous smile twitched onto her face. "Thank you."
Charles continued. "I've always wanted to play the piano," he said. "I never got a chance with the line of work that my family is in."
"Well, it's never to late to learn," she replied, still wearing that nervous smile.
No, it wasn't. That was exactly what Charles was thinking. "You can teach me," he said.
She froze at that. Teach Mr Leclerc, one of the most dangerous men in the principality, piano? Oh, it was terrifying. And she couldn't say no.
"Great." His smile wasn't kind, exactly. It was more... satisfied. "You can call me Charles." He held out his hand.
She hesitated before grabbing it. It was like signing her soul away, handing it to the devil on a silver platter. But she shook it. "You can call me Y/N."
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TAGLIST (OPEN): @ninifee1802 @booksandflowrs @ashy-kit @weekendlusting @nikfigueiredo @annispamz @watermelonworries @spideybv28 @janeholt3 @barcelonaloverf1life
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moonsaver · 2 months
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Hi! It’s @pix3lplays! (On anon because I have another account and I can’t switch which account I’m asking from haha)
I wanted to say thanks for being so nice when I responded to your comment on one of my posts~I really appreciated what you said hehe, definitely made me feel bit more confident and inspired me to keep writing :)
So I thought I’d throw an ask out since requests are open~
If you’re not interested no problem but I’ve thought about it a little and I thought maybe you’d have some thoughts.
Yandere!Sunday when his darling somehow gets seriously hurt, how do you think he’d feel, what would he do?
Personally I think he’s a complete control freak already when it comes to reader, so it just gets WORSE…ANYWAYS I wanna hear YOUR thoughts if you’re interested in the prompt hehe~ also if you’ve already talked about this oops I must’ve missed it, sorry in advance-
But yeah thanks so much, it was really cool to talk to you, take care of yourself, please!!
Hello Pixel! Thank you for sending in this ask, you're very sweet haha <3 i like your writing and im glad i helped you become more confident in it. Also,same issue here, i cant send asks from this account specifically, so i use anon or just use my personal blog to send asks.
Anyways, onto the request,
Ooh, my Yan!Sunday brain is ticking.. he really is an absolute control freak, and is a bit of a mess when he sees you seriously injured. A miscalculation, ignorance, negligence, or perhaps just.. an oversight from his part? Whatever the reason is, he's in high-drive now, and absolutely stressed about it. He only has a worried and distant look on his face, and at this stage he's prone to easily snapping at anyone, but his mind would be on a completely different level of stress. How dare they? How dare anyone lay a filthy inch of a finger on you? To stain you with their sins, and to breach your skin in such a grotesque manner.. he's absolutely enraged.
He insists on tending to you himself personally, unless it's so serious paramedics have to be involved. Stays by your side until he cant, sitting on the egde of the bed, body turned halfway to face you, fingers ghosting the edge of your face with tenderness.
However, this tenderness is only limited to your recovery period.
After you wake up or recover a bit, practically any freedom you would have had is gone. Completely.
Scolds you, borderline yells at you, holds you still with a deathly tight grip on your arms, forcing you to look into his eyes. This happened because you left. This happened because you were out of his watch. This all happened because of your freedom. Don't you dare even bother mentioning going out anywhere. You will be surveillanced almost all the time. He spends a suffocating amount of time next to you, harshly spitting back whenever you try to protest or reason with him. His words aren't gentle at all, and you're getting on his nerves. Perhaps he should just look over you himself, force you into a borderline coma in the dream fluid, and deal swiftly with the perpetrators.
Robin catches wind of this at some point.. she tells you that he's just worried, and there's a lot of people that don't quite hold The Family in high regards. Just.. its okay. Let him do this.
Let him pick out your clothes, brush your hair, check your healing wounds, gently ebb the water over them as you bathe, and kiss the skin of your shoulder when both of you stay silent after another argument.
If you still continue arguing.. he doesn't have a choice. He slumps a bit, a hand coming up to massage his temple as he sighs, and tells you in a softer voice that he's terrified. The worst thing that could happen did happen. He almost lost you. Can't you just go with it and let him be assured? You're dragging it out much more than it needs to be. He's spent many sleepless nights, ideas of dreamscapes turning into nightmares as the image of your hurt face flashes in his mind. Just cooperate, for Aeons' sake.
And no one speaks after that. He emotionally blackmails and manipulates you as a sort of final resort. Surely, you'd understand. It's not like it's far from the truth anyway. He is scared. But more than that, he's enraged this happened in the first place.
Adding on more to it,
Once things calm down.. in a twisted sort of way, he realizes just how perfectly he can get you under his complete control from these events. He may even not so subtly orchestrate similar events to scare you, to keep you in check, forcing you to rely on him completely, as he swoops in at the right time, acting as some kind of a "savior". Its a sick mindset, and he's not ashamed of it. Oh dear, you were just so pleasantly compliant after that event. And it just solidifies his statement that you shouldn't be going outside anymore, or be constantly accompanied by the Bloodhound Family guards, after only a few incidents of various threat levels.
In the end, it's a cycle that repeats up until you finally give in and let him take any and all freedom you have. He sets down your hairbrush with a gentle 'clack', kisses the crown of your head, and tells you it's alright. He will take such good care of you. Just listen to him. Listen to his every word. He has your best intentions in mind. Don't think about anything, anyone. You're a smart girl, surely you understand?
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eddiernunson · 5 months
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Waiting Room Problems | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader | 18+ | PREVIEW
Summary: a rough landing in a fight with your brother causes you to land in a crowded waiting room. Meanwhile a rough deal also sends Eddie the same fate. Somehow, somehow you try to keep your eyes on your phone and off his tiny little waist. It proves…difficult.
Warnings: strangers to lovers, fleeting glances, slightly cocky Eddie, sex in a public bathroom (trust me on this, just trust me), and general horniness at Eddie’s general appearance.
Authors note: I just spent 8 hours last night (when I wrote this) in the fucking waiting room. At two hours in a guy came in and he radiated Eddie’s energy so my mind ran away with it. (Everything is ok).
I'm posting a sneak at this one, because it was a surprisingly close call. I'm not sure when I'll be done, tbh. But here's the first 900 words!
As the night swallowed you whole, you sit in your mom’s passenger seat of her car while she drives you to the ER. While rough housing with your older brother you landed on your hand wrong and bent it way back. It’s definitely not broken, but it for sure needs to be looked at.
As the lights of the night pass you by you insist you’re fine and the sprain will heal after a few days. Your mom, however, was having none of it as you roll your eyes in exasperation.
She’s as stubborn as you are, so you sit arms crossed as you know you have no choice. Ouch, ok, crossing your arms was a bad idea.
She wishes you well, her kind eyes wide as she leans over to ask to keep her updated. You can’t help it, slamming the door after letting her know you will. You should’ve been enjoying some spiked eggnog and watching holiday movies, but now you’re spending Christmas Eve in the ER.
The large window to the waiting room lets you know there’s already a long line up just waiting for the triage and most seats are taken. Fuck, you’re in for a long night.
The kind and sunny nurse takes your vitals and information gently assessing your symptoms and palpating your wrist carefully. She lets you know it’s definitely sprained and will need a gauze wrap.
Soon, you find yourself sat in a brown, cracked, leather chair sitting close to a man who is coughing up a lung and groaning in pain at each one. Not that there are many options to begin with.
Your phone in your hand and your charger in your bag, you sit comfortably and wait for your name to get called to the back as you read the memes and watch with one headphone in.
Ninety minutes goes by while your best friend texts you to keep you busy and entertained, not even noticing you’ve been waiting for so long. Thank god for her.
For the first time in a while, you look up to assess the state of the waiting room. As far as you recall, about five people have been called to the back. Those seats have been replaced with new patients and their support, what seems to be a never-ending cycle.
Your eyes flick onto someone who walks into the line that is long enough to extend into the hallway, stepping up a place in line and finally in the actual waiting room. Your eyes scan him, the boots, the ripped jeans, the leather jacket covering a graphic tee, all leading up to his shaggy brown hair and gorgeous face.
Your mouth partially opens, momentarily taken aback by how unbelievably hot he is. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, at least, until you notice the tear in his shirt peeking at white gauze on his torso. From the stain, it’s clear he was injured.
His face doesn’t reflect such, patiently waiting as the two triage nurses take their time. By the third time he blinks, you realize you’ve been staring and shift your eyes back down to your phone.
As the line moves, his boots in the corner of your eye, you grow increasingly aware of how much you want to continue staring at him. Somehow, he was just so enticing, everything about him drawing you in. Especially his lack of response to a wound as such.
Time passes on and soon you find yourself bored of the videos and turn on your Spotify to the comfort playlist. Your eyes flicker to the triage, wondering around the room aimlessly. Unfortunately, it lands on the stranger you’ve been lingering on and witnesses him lifting his shirt to show the nurse the reason for his visit.
The black shirt lifts to show a slim waist scattered in black and white tattoos, lifting the white gauze to reveal a gnarly wound. You can’t tell but from its shape it looks to be a stab wound. However gory his uncovered wound looks; you can’t help but stare at his bare torso.
Then, it fucking happens. His eyes flicker to you, for a fraction of second, he keeps the eye contact. His mouth twitches, leaning into something you’d call a smirk. As a reflex you shift your eyes away from him, cheeks heating up in embarrassment from getting caught.
taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420
If you want to be tagged when the full fic is posted, just let me know in the replies. Again, I have no idea when that will happen, it's not done yet. Maybe this'll give me the motivation i need
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judasgot-it · 1 year
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hi! May i request tecchou and chuuya when s/o takes care of them after they were discharged from the hospital because after a mission, they were quite injured (idk if discharged it’s understandable, I used google translate but I hope you could understand me)
First time writing Chuuya, I don't know if I did him right so please tell me if I did him ok? (Also don't worry, your English is fine &lt;3)
Scenario: Taking care of you after getting injured (Tecchou, Chuuya)
Tecchou
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"Oh, let me get that for you."
Your hand had dropped your hairbrush again. It was the 3rd time since you started, and you were beginning to get frustrated.
You didn't say anything though, just reaching your arm out so you could try again. It was difficult, trying to even wrap all of your fingers around the handle. But you managed, forcing yourself to place the bristles through your strands of hair, slowly dragging it through the knots that had formed throughout the week.
"Do you want me to do it for you?"
Tecchou was still behind you, watching you through the mirror as you struggled to brush your hair. You were going at an agonizingly slow pace, but you still persisted.
"No. I have to do this, remember?"
You were frustrated with the situation but what could you do about it - your arm was temporarily paralyzed, and your only option was to keep using it until you gained full control of it back.
You were just glad you still had it, as you were only inches away from having it blown off. This was really child's play for what you usually faced.
"I can help with this. You deserve a little break."
You made eye contact with him in the mirror, seeing him give you a little smile. He reached over and brushed some of your tangled hair with his fingers, careful to avoid the scabs hiding in your scalp.
For the past week, you've refused to let him touch it, only brushing it yourself so you could get control of your hand again. It wasn't exactly easy, seeing as you couldn't brush it as finely as you did before your injury. It's become a bit of a rat's nest, but you stayed stubborn.
You were a Hunting Dog, which meant that you had no choice but to get better as soon as possible. Your job didn't allow for vacations.
But maybe you wanted to feel spoiled for a bit. Doctor's orders be damned.
Sighing, you handed him the brush, moving to sit down on the toilet. You forced yourself to push the seat down with your arm, flexing your fingers as much as they allowed.
Tecchou said nothing, instead bending over and putting the brush to your hair. He was as gentle as possible, which was odd for the man - usually, he would attack something like this with maximum proficiency. Which meant a lot of pulling and tugging on your poor scalp.
It was relaxing, having him take the brush through your hair. One of his hands gently guided your head around, allowing him to easily move the brush throughout your hair, You let your eyes close, letting him treat you like an expensive doll.
This felt like a small slice of heaven right now.
"Thank you for saving me on the last mission."
You nodded, your head falling into his chest. You admittedly didn't want to get up, feeling your shoulders fall as you felt the bristles brush against the back of your neck.
"You've already thanked me. It's not that big of a deal, you know this is our job."
Tecchou hummed. He set the brush aside, moving your shoulders so he could look at you. You forced your head up, looking up into his honey eyes.
"Yes. But this feels different somehow."
You snorted. You fell back into his chest, pulling him close to you. His shirt was soft and stretched across his back, which made you realize this may have been an awkward position for him.
"So what if I want to protect my boyfriend, is that so wrong?"
You felt a hum in his chest, warming you on the inside. He put his cheek on top of your head, thinking.
"I suppose not. Just don't die ok?"
If he hugged you tighter while saying that, you didn't tease him. You just enjoyed his warmth for the moment, feeling close.
Chuuya
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"Please don't ever do that again."
You were sitting in the park, watching as Chuuya brought both of your orders to your little park bench. He looked exasperated, looking at you from underneath his mop of hair.
He had ran from the nearby sandwich shop, just to find you sitting at a nearby park bench.
"Do what? I can't go that far Chuuya."
You had only walked about a couple meters away - nothing worth worrying about. Barely even out of sight.
"Don't get snappy with me your highness. I'm the one looking out for you while you're out of commission."
You looked at him as you took the brown bag out of his hands. Reaching in, you took out your food, looking to start your meal.
"Oopsie."
You gave a smile as Chuuya growled a little, biting his sandwich a little too aggressively. Riling him up had become a bit of a hobby of yours, seeing as it was all in good fun.
There wasn't anything else to do anyway, as you were forced to stand by until your ribs were completely healed. It was great, taking the time off and spending time with Chuuya. Just sucked being in pain nearly 24/7.
Even in your sleep, you couldn't catch a break. Everything hurt, so you really did appreciate Chuuya's company.
"So what'd you order? It smells really good."
You started to eat your own food, but you were eyeing his like a starving dog. Slowly, he inched away from you on the bench, holding his sandwich out of your reach.
"No way. I already paid for your lunch and now you want to eat mine? What more do you want from me?"
You smiled, like a strange little caracal. Your plastic fork waved around in your mouth as you spoke with it still there, with no regard to manners.
"I don't know. Saving people from falling out of a burning building usually comes with big rewards. Maybe I should get a kiss on the lips too and a big thank you."
Chuuya looked at you wide-eyed, stopping for a second. He was stunned at your offer, his face having a small blush.
Before he let out a large laugh, his ass almost slipping onto the concrete below.
"Do you really want that?"
He was smiling wide, his ocean eyes crinkling with him. His face was inching closer toward yours as he said this.
You looked at him, trying to gain your bearings as he put his hand underneath your chin and kissed you, lingering for a moment. You could feel his smile as he stayed there, enjoying the moment while it lasted.
Then he pulled away, taking another bite out of his sandwich.
"Oh thank you so much Y/n. For saving me out of a burning building, and then breaking three of your ribs. You really are a hero, you know that?"
You looked at him, still blushing from his kiss. Then you snapped out of it, looking out to the park.
"Of course I am. I would do anything for a pretty damsel in distress, you know?"
You looked back towards him, biting your lip a little as chewed on his food. You were trying not to laugh, as it would have been extremely painful.
Chuuya reached over and pat your thigh, comforting you. You took a moment to catch your breath, still smiling despite the pain you were in.
"Could that pretty damsel please give you another kiss? I think you still need to feel my gratitude."
You smiled, carefully scooting closer toward him. You pat your lips, looking at him expectantly.
"Well? I'm waiting."
"You suck Y/n."
"And you swallow, Chuuya."
The ginger simply rolled his eyes and took your lips again, carefully taking your chin in his hand.
I haven't written for Chuuya yet so this was a challenge! But I love it when ppl request cuz this account really helps encourage me to write
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liaarxse · 11 months
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could u headcannons of what the tr characters would do if y/n did this trend with ken, nahoya, chifuyy, baji, kazutora?
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8131oTm/
(basically y/n walks away from them whenever they get close)
Nah, cuz it's 2am, and I'm cackling like a madman omfg this is amazing
<3 Here you go, anon:
Headcanons
How would TR characters react to you moving away from them
Characters: Ryuguji Ken, Nahoya Kawata, Matsuno Chifuyu, Keisuke Baji, Kazutora Hanemiya
Warnings: none
A/n: I literally have 40 history lessons to revise in 2 days, and I've gotten nowhere
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Ryuguji Ken
Not this shit again
Draken is tired of your games
He had to deal with Toman, some punks, MIKEY and now you?
Kill him
Oops already happened
But he did this to himself
A few days ago he "accidentally" ruined one of your favourite dresses with motor oil and only said sorry
So sorry not sorry Dora
"Hey, Y/n? Want a glass of water?"
"Sure."
Perfect timing
He walked towards you to give you the water
You walked away
....
He took 3 steps forward
You took 3 steps backwards
Again
3 steps forward
3 steps backwards
You made 5 full circles around the couch at this point
"Not this shit again"
He went to sit down because man's tired of this
You felt bad and went to him
He turned to you before he sat down
"What?"
"Sorry, c'mere"
He went to hug you
You took a step back
BITCH
LMAOOOOO
Give him a hug pls
You did ofc
Until you could
I'm not sorry
Y'all spent the night just cuddling and talking about how annoying(ly hot) Mikey is
The next morning you did the prank again
He went back to sleep (and never woke up)
Nahoya Kawata
Who made you do this?
You lost your marbles?
LAST PERSON to do this prank on
But you still did
Stupid
Y'all were just chilling at a park
The sun was setting, giving the landscape a pretty peachy-golden tint
It reminded you of your boyfriend who was chasing squirrels behind you
Yeah, you pretended not to know him
He got tired and went to sit next to you
"What'cha starring at, babe?"
"The sun?"
"Ok"
He left to chase a squirrel that he claimed to look like you
Back to not knowing that person
It was getting pretty late, so you gathered y'alls stuff and got up to leave
He was carrying a dead squirrel in his hands
"Babe, look! I caught your doppelganger!"
"Oh, that's nice baby– MOTHER OF GOD–"
You didn't have a choice that fucker started chasing you with it
He lied that he threw it away
He didn't
Half way towards your house he fished it out of his pocket and shoved it in your face
You screamed and took like a fucking backflip backwards
He slowly walked towards you with his iconic grin obv
"Nahoya, no."
"Nahoya, yes."
"I'm gonna break up with you."
"I'll shove this up your ass while you sleep."
Y'all didn't break up ofc
That continued up until like 3 blocks to your house before he threw it inside a house through an opened window
The night at least ended peacefully
You had a nightmare where he did shove it in your ass
Matsuno Chifuyu
Why?
Like why?
Just why?
This happened while you were at a Toman fight
You got a call from Hina that your boyfriend got hurt
So you skiddadled to the place very quickly since you lived like 7 minutes away
It took you 30
When you got there, the fight had already ended
Your boyfriend noticed you and ran with an opened arm since his other was a tad bit injured
You took a step back
🤨
"Hey babe."
"Why did you do that?"
"Did what?"
He took another step towards you
You took a step backwards
He frowned
"Is it because my uniform is blooded? Wait, gimme a sec"
He took his top off
OOOOOHHH LAWDDDD HAVE MERCEYYYYYYYYY
THEM SCRUMPTIOUS ABS
bite bite
Lmao, who were you kidding
Get em tits
And you did baby gorl
Don't do this to him again though
Keisuke Baji
He just got back
And guess what
Another stray kitty was brought home
You lost count of how many Baji Jr. and Y/n Jr. cats you had
You smiled anyway since it's a kitty after all
"Yo bae, can you please fetch me some kitty clothes to dress up Y/n Jr.?
Ah this time it was you turn
You did of course
And when he walked over to you to grab the clothes
You saw something jump
Then again
And it hit you
Flees
You threw the clothes in his face and ran back
"What the hell?"
"Stay back."
"Why?"
He started walking towards you
You screamed
He was confused af still walking towards you
And you were walking back
This continued for like 7 minutes before you entered the kitchen
You grabbed bug spray
And sprayed him with it
He died
Jkjkjk
He was mad though
Ah, it's fine. You took care of it and cuddled with all 61 cats
Then you saw it again
You jumped out of the window
He jumped after you
Lmao you got flees too
Kazutora Hanemiya
This time, there was no specific reason
You were just watching tiktok with him, laying on your chest, trying to sleep
But he couldn't
This was Mikeys fault
"My wheenie needs to take a whee-whee."
"The mental hospital is 10 minutes away."
He got up and went to the bathroom
Then you landed upon the tiktok
Now this, this is perfection
He came back after like, 2 minutes
He crawled back in bed
You got up
"Huh?"
"What?"
He sat on the edge where you stood
You walked away
He walked towards you
"What are you doing?'
"What are YOU doing?"
You barely kept your laugh in when you noticed his face
"This is Mikeys fault isn't it."
"Tora no–"
You did like 6 circles around the room
You got bored with just staying in it and went to the door
He got in front of you and locked it
You stumbled back into the bed
"Baby...~"
HE SAID IT IN HIS HOT DADDY ENGLISH VOICE UGH
Oh-oh guess who's weenie has to take a wee-wee now
Lmao this surely will 'rearrange your guts'
If you know what I mean
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saltwaterburns · 9 months
Note
Hi, hello. Could I request an Anthony Lockwood x reader fic, maybe with the reader comforting Lockwood after a near death experience during a case/when stress becomes too much/after a nightmare (your choice, truly)
Thank you so much in advance! I love your writing and I look forward to reading what you make of this request (no pressure though!!)
je sais pas m'oublier
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summary: you comfort lockwood after a mission almost gone wrong and somehow end up tangled together with him in the library
warnings: lockwood gets injured and they don't kiss 😕
pairing: anthony lockwood x gn!reader
a/n: AAAAAA MY FIRST EVER FIC THATS A REQUEST. This is very nerve wrecking btw I don't want to disappoint anyone. If it's bad it's cause of nerves. I love you guys sm, all of your notifications make my day. And!!! When requesting I'd loveloveLOVE if you'd specify the readers gender! I tried to make this gn but it might tilt towards fem reader ;(
And to this lovely anon, i adore you endlessly!!! 🩷
It was supposed to be a simple case. Get there, find the source, capture it, get out. It really didn't seem like something to make a big deal out of. Yet here you were, desperately digging the ground for multiple sources alongside George while Lucy and Lockwood are trying to fight off the wailing type twos surrounding your lot.
"I've never wanted Kipps and his crew to show up more than right now." You laugh, a hint of worry sprinkled upon it. George snorts and you grin at the sound, your hands steadily guiding the shovel that's digging the ground, not a spot on your body left that appears clean. You feel small droplets of rain start to drop down and the waters of panic lap at your feet, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The possibility of you not making it out in one piece tonight just became very real. If the rain continues, you won't be able to see the ghosts well enough to fight them off.
As if on cue, your shovel hits something wet, hard and slippery. Bones. You shout for George and leave him to deal with the sources, hauling yourself up the muddy hole to go and help your friends.
Your gaze settles on Lockwood. He seems to be doing fine at first glaze, but as you look closer, you see that he's limping. Why on Earth would he be limping? You dont have enough time to wallow on that because he falls, his rapier flying just a few inches too far for him to grasp.
You shout for him and without thinking, grab a magnesium flare off your belt, throwing it somewhere in the direction of the ghost. The explosion would've knocked you off your feet but your mind is locked on him, his lanky frame, that now on the ground looks small, fragile even.
"Lockwood, Locky are you alright?" You ask, dropping down on to your knees next to him, gently cradling his face in your hands. He groggily opens his eyes and you practically sob, pulling him close to you. His brown curls tickle your face but you only hold him tighter, smiling to yourself as you feel his arms slowly making their way around you.
"Fucks sake, you scared me. Scared me so bad. Why were you limping? You could have been ghost touched." You murmur, pressing a kiss to his head after every word. You don't give him time to answer before pulling away, cupping his cheeks and resting your forehead against his. His eyes flutter shut, dark lashes brushing against pale cheeks. How does he always manage to look so breathtaking?
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I messed up a manoeuvre and slipped on the grass, it was rather stupid of me." He apologises, but you only hold him tighter.
George finishes up securing the sources with Lucy and all five of you start the journey back to Portland Row, soaking wet and covered in mud, awaiting the box of Arif's donuts that are sitting on the kitchen table.
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You exit the steaming bathroom, a pink towel wrapped around your upper body, soaking wet hair leaving a path of tiny droplets all the way to your and Lucy's room. The ginger girl is fast asleep under the mountain of covers, soft snores emitting from her. You turn off her bedside lamp, darkness swallowing the room. You're used to the darkness, the way it disables all your senses at first. You pay it no mind and slip into a grey 'The Rolling Stones' t-shirt, rough drying your hair with the towel before disregarding it somewhere.
You don't go straight to bed. Something is crippling inside you, chewing on your heart. You leave your room and walk downstairs, stopping in front of the library door. Light is bleeding through the cracks all around the door, and you instantly know who's awake in there at this hour. It's him, always him.
You knock on the door a few times and twist the door knob, stepping into the dimly lit room. Lockwood is sitting there; his hair damp, his sleep shirt a little soaked as well. He has a book in his lap and it looks like he's trying to read but something is bothering him.
"Hey, you. I wanted to check up on you. Are you okay?" You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. He sighs softly and closes the book, putting it away before patting on the spot next to him, signalling for you to come and sit. You do exactly that and sit down next to him, looking a little worried.
He's warm. You can feel the heat emitting from him, his body. Its heating up your cheeks, tinting them pink.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm alright. Just shaken I suppose. Felt like I was looking death himself right in the eye for a second there." He chuckles, but there isn't any amusement laced in it. You don't reply to him, you just take his hand in yours and lace your fingers together.
Nothing else is said throughout the night. When George finds you two in the morning, he's laying on top of you, his head on your chest and his arms around your waist. You're holding him close to you, your grip unrelenting.
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Part two, yes no maybe?!?! I hope you guys enjoyed 😁Feedback is always more than appreciated !!
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the-s1lly-corner · 7 months
Note
Could you do A, C, I, G, K, L, and P for EJ in the fluff alphabet? It would make me reallyyyy happy :3
Fluff Alphabet w/ EJ!!
ive been waiting for someone to do EJ you dont understand!!! i saw this earlier but the power went out when i finally had time to sit down and get to writing </3 my apologies as for other stuff/for everyone else, requests are still open, and the fluff alphabet will be open indefinitely!!
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ATTRACTION- Honestly I think you gotta be a real catch to end up as Jacks partner, considering his entire hermit thing... I personally think that he separates himself from society after he becomes Eyeless Jack via a funky cult sacrifice thing... which he was kinda pretty much unwillingly roped into. I think he would want someone who's capable of taking care of themselves, and perhaps someone whos smart. maybe even lower maintenance. its not that he doesnt want to treat you as you deserve, its that sometimes he cant given he sometimes legitimately goes feral (though this is only really due to him pushing off his needs, blood frenzy type deal for when he pushes off eating people, can get real ugly). understanding as well, he needs someone whos willing to be understanding of his position and current predicament and know that eventually jack is going to fully not. be there anymore one day (possible angst idea? ooo?) but also even before the whole, demon thing, jack wasnt the most cheery or social and things definitely havent changed
CUDDLING- hes really cold so thats good for hot nights! not good for cold ones though </3 but hey maybe you guys are somewhere where its perpetually hot. as for the actual act of cuddling, he prefers to be the big spoon. likes sleeping closer to the door, kinda makes a barrier of himself for you in case someone were to come in. which is unlikely since if this were his place, its literally a cabin in the woods in bumfuck nowhere, but the point still stands. only engages if youre asleep or ask for it. if youre the one holding him, he kinda. freezes still and doesnt dare move. poor dude, hes so scared hes going to bite you or something
GIFT GIVING- since he lives in the woods and doesnt have a job he cant exactly go out and give you gifts. he also isnt fond of taking belongings from victims, since he already takes pieces of their bodies. coughs. anyways, i think hes more of an act of service person (will talk more about that in L)
INJURY- youre in luck, he had plans to be a doctor, thats what he was going to college for! plus i think he had a little fixation on medical stuff in general growing up. little hc that his other choice was to be a microbilogist. idk, i can see it. but i dont think it needs to be said that neither became reality. but he does know how to treat some injuries and illnesses! so youre both in luck! but how does he react, emotionally? honestly, as long as youre not bleeding while hes in his frenzied state hes more than willing to help you... although its more so because he doesnt want the scent to trigger anything in him... he cares about you, i promise! its just that ultimately its better he doesnt go feral on you- now if he was the one injured hes already patching himself up... oh but imagine convincing him to let you clean up a wound he got while trying to do his thing.... ouuuugh... let the man be vulnerable, let him be taken care of... ueueue... anyways- yeah
KISSES- he doesnt wear his mask when hes at your place or his cabin- in fact he only really wears it when hes 'hunting' or 'prowling', so!! loves kissing your cheek. will absolutely refuse to kiss you if hes just ate, though, let him wash his face and brush his teeth first. and change his clothes. he likes being kissed anywhere; forehead, mouth, cheeks, hands, ect ect ect. now in terms of frequency i dont think he likes it too often, but that may be some internalized thing about no longer being worthy of love or something but hey who am i to say (loudly winks)
LOVE LANGUAGE- as previously mentioned, acts of service is how jack shows his appreciation and love for you. need something done? hes on it! need to do some chores but dont feel like it? you dont even need to ask! stuff like that, hell, even if something doesnt need to be done he will probably tinker at it and try to make it better if its an appliance or something that can be upgraded to be more efficient and effective. when it comes to receiving he likes words of affirmation, this man has been through hell and hes still going through it, so reassuring him that you still love him even though hes changing makes things a little less scary
PET NAMES- he likes calling you babe and baby. he likes being called hon! doesnt really do petnames, he finds saying someones name intimate enough... which honestly i kinda agree with, i kinda hate how utilized it is in romantic media. just two characters loving each other, sharing a moment, and one softly utters the others name in a sweet tone. GUH!!!! anyway
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photmath · 1 year
Text
Comme Les Fleurs - Chapter 1
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Chapter 1: First Impressions
Summary: Left with no other options, Kylian must rehab his newly injured leg at a stranger’s home for the next month and she isn’t at all what he expects. Meanwhile, Aurèle has to deal with easily-irritated and sullen Kylian as she opens her home to him. 
Word Count: 6.1k
Warnings: cursing
Note: At the end, happy readings! (:
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“For how long?” Kylian’s eyes shoot between the team’s psychologist, Dr. Minic, and his coach. Both of their faces are unyielding to the reluctance of Kylian’s voice.
“A month.”
“You want me to uproot my entire life for a month? At someone’s random house?” Kylian is quick to his feet, despite the ache that runs through his sore thigh. He shifts his entire weight onto his crutches and uninjured leg.
“Sit down,” Galtier reprimands, beckoning him to take a seat with an outstretched arm. Kylian lets out a scoff before he takes a seat back in the chair. “You’ve had a blow to your calf. One that you got for being careless! If you had just kept your head leveled and never went for that tackle, you wouldn’t have wound up in this situation.”
Kylian stares out the window behind Galtier’s head, knowing the words were true. Kylian had played reckless; not caring for the fouls he was committing and being frustrated that none of his teammates' passes were connecting. He had committed a dirty tackle early on, him and the other player then continuing to butt heads throughout the game.
And then finally, Kylian got a breakaway, but he was so selfishly aware of his inability to execute the ball that he forced himself through traffic when he should’ve passed the ball to an open Messi. After one too many sloppy touches trying to regain the ball, he felt a searing pain rip through his calf. He was quick to blame the Marseille player, immediately rising to his feet and pushing him. Once the Marseille player got up to shove an off-balanced Kylian, he fell to the floor harshly, only clutching onto his leg.
He wanted to argue to Galtier that his calf deciding to strain was not because of the opposing team and the foul attitude they put him in throughout the game, but it was. He was trying to prove to himself and the team that he could tie up the match if he was just given one more chance. It was something he had been doing since the World Cup; trying to prove to everyone that he still had it in him despite the sour taste of finishing in second place. And after another failed season at PSG, the last way he wanted to end the season was with a loss at home. No Coupe de France. No UCL. And now no Ligue 1 title.
“I think it would be a good idea for you to get out of the city, but not be too far,” Dr. Minic inquires. “A change in environment. Somewhere calm.”
“I can do that at my apartment,” Kylian replies. “Or in Switzerland—anywhere, really.”
Noé Martin, the team’s main physiotherapist, shakes his head, “Somewhere preferably that is one floor and where I can visit regularly.”
Kylian tuts, groaning at the idea of being sent away to the ‘middle of nowhere’ for the next month of his break. His injury was still a day old and they already had an outrageous recovery plan.
“Will you be there to facilitate my recovery?”
Martin nods, “I’ll visit. But you’ll be in good hands, I taught her everything she knows, a bright student of mine.”
“I don’t know her.”
Martin waves Kylian’s worries away, “She’s the best. Quick with her thinking and has dealt with these kinds of textbook injuries. She has a nice yard for you to do some running once you get to that point. Oh, and a good cook.”
“Why doesn’t she work with us if she’s the best?”
“She denied my offer.”
Kylian raises his eyebrows with interest, “Why?”
“I guess you’ll just have to ask her yourself.”
Kylian quiets down as he thinks about it. He didn’t have much of a choice now that everyone sided against him. He could try to tell Galtier that it wasn’t a smart idea but if both the physiotherapist and psychologist recommended it for him, there was no reason to continue discussing.
It was just going to be a month. Living with a complete stranger and her healing hands as Martin put it. Somewhere secluded without the presence of fans and overly eager journalists. He hoped that he could invite some of his friends and family to this place at the minimum.
Kylian leans back into his seat, his fingers running along the metal of his crutches, “When do I start?”
“Today,” Galtier advises. “If you want to be fit for the rest of your break and the next season, what are we waiting for?”
Kylian nods absentmindedly, “Fine, let’s get the month started then, and then I’m coming back to Paris.”
------
“This isn’t exactly a one floor house,” Kylian comments as the view of the wooden house comes into view. It was taller than it was wide. The brown was rich because of the previous downpour that the area had gotten. Despite the windows being closed, the smell of the wet grass was enough to make him sneeze.
Martin looks back at Kylian from the passenger seat, “You’ll be staying on the first floor.”
“Perfect,” Kylian whispers.
The van bounces on the rocky surface as it roars up the driveway. As he looked through the lit up windows, he could make out what seemed to be books on shelves in the first room beside the front door. The upstairs blinds had been drawn up, not minding anyone who viewed the inside. It wasn’t like they could see much anyway because he sure couldn’t. And she certainly didn’t have to worry about peeping neighbors because the last house he saw was over five kilometers away.
Martin and Dr. Minic hop out of the car, quick to aid Kylian onto the ramp that led him to the front door. They then grab his duffel bags and suitcases from the trunk.
“Try not to be sour,” Martin warns. “She’s also finding out about this arrangement just now, too.” Kylian can only muster up an unenthused smile as he comes into contact with the owner, but it quickly morphs into a strained cough.
She wasn't what he had in mind. He thought someone older, perhaps in their forties—knowing that Martin had taught at a university many years ago—so that meant whoever she was had to be older, but she isn’t. She’s around his age. That single piece of information has his irritation dissipating out of his throat and the etched scowl leaves his face immediately.
“This is Kylian,” Martin motions, his palm squeezing around Kylian’s shoulder.
Kylian gives her a timid wave, his crutch swinging with him, “Hi.”
“Hi!” She beams, her gaze glancing down at his boot. “I’m Aurèle, but you can just call me Aurie.” He doesn’t realize his own eyes are traveling down to her smile until he chokes, getting lost in the way her cheeks rose. He never thought a pair of cheeks and the crinkle beside her eyes could make his breathing so difficult to control. Not even the most back and forth game he’s played in had him jutting his mouth open for oxygen like this. “It’s nice to meet you, come on in.”
The three of them follow closely behind her, Martin’s strict glare towards Kylian doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Kylian soaks in his new surroundings for the time being. The small area to the right, the one he was able to see from the car, was a small library. A little circled table with two chairs filled the room, floor to ceiling bookshelves covered the walls of them. Towards the side seemed to be a small closet and restroom. The kitchen is pretty spacious despite a wall covering it from the living room. The dining room and living room seemed to be the main focus of the first floor, and a room hidden behind the kitchen that he couldn’t make out. But what caught his eye the most were the abundance of plants that cluttered walls and ceiling. Some were hanging down like vines while other pots were just held by a rope.
He scoffs.
“Take a seat, I’m sorry everything is a bit cluttered,” she apologizes, pointing to a stack of textbooks on the living room table. Besides that, it wasn’t messy at all, very clean and smelled of rustic leather. “I’ve been in and out of the house, trying to have everything perfect.”
Aurie lets out a nervous chuckle and Kylian’s eyes dart towards her, already feeling light on his feet from the rhythmic sound of her giggle. She isn’t looking at him though, instead looking at her mentor, Martin. For a second there, he almost wants to slap his hand across his face for thinking that sweet laugh was directed towards him.
“Anyway, I know you guys have to get back to Paris, so we can start off quickly with any instructions.”
Dr. Minic nods, pulling out the journal he kept in his back pocket, “I want you to start with monitoring his mood closely.” Kylian rolls his eyes now remembering why he was here in the first place. He decides to focus on the many photos and artwork that hang on the walls. “Kylian has a natural tendency to be easily irritable, but if anything seems too over that line, you note it.”
She nods her head, listening to his instructions despite Kylian sitting next to them. It was a bit unusual to discuss the procedures in front of the patient, but everything needed to be as transparent as possible when it came to the seriousness of Kylian’s injury.
Martin chimes, “You know the obvious protocol, but I want to view your treatment plan before you start. We’re going to go ahead and start recovery in two days, that way some of the swelling can go down. But if his swelling hasn’t gone down to a decent amount, wait one more day. He already knows that he shouldn’t be up and moving around.”
Dr. Minic agrees, closing his journal, “I think that was my only concern. I look forward to seeing you next weekend with an update.”
He suddenly stands and Martin follows suit, directing their attention to Kylian to tell him their goodbyes before she walks them out of the house.
It was an awkward and sudden shift for her too. Just yesterday she was setting up the weekly bingo event for the retirement home she worked at, to having a very animated phone call from Martin. He had to persuade her to open up her home for Kylian, having used her home for previous patients but this one was of course different. She wasn’t harboring the star of the world a couple of days ago.
Kylian on the other hand, is busy on his phone, groaning at the slow service. He was trying to find the address, knowing he was somewhere in the outskirts of Paris but couldn’t pin the exact location.
Entering the living room, she greets him again, a little hesitant on what to do with him, “So um, the downstairs doesn’t necessarily have a bedroom. The couch you sit on turns into a bed, so I’ll have to set it up for you each night until you can do it yourself. Restroom is right over there and everything in the fridge and house, you are welcome to have. Your bags, for the moment, will be in this room over here behind the kitchen—it used to be a bedroom but we had to turn it into a little gym and rehab room.”
Kylian slowly nods his head, too focused on his phone to listen to every word she says. The address had finally loaded; he was only an hour away, not all that far from his drivers.
“Next week, you should be able to go up the stairs more comfortably and you’ll have a bedroom up there. So for the meantime, I apologize that you won’t have much privacy,” she says meekly.
What finally pulls him out of his trance is Aurie reaching down in front of him, he looks up, startled to see her this close.
“Go ahead and rest your leg up on the table,” she pats on the wood. He does it reluctantly. “I’m going to take off the brace and get you on ice, we won’t be doing anything today anyway. Any pain?”
He nods, his eyes pinching closed as she unstraps the boot, “Yeah, a lot. It feels sore.”
“It’s a lot more than sore,” she mutters, a smile forming on her face. Her witty remark has him suddenly on edge, it was her first and it definitely took him by surprise. Aurie had attempted to break the tension, but instead, the corners of his eyebrows were drawn down.
“Who even are you?” He sits up, leaning closer to her. His hand lands right on top of hers to stop her from unbuckling the straps. She tugs her hand away from his contact quickly. It was too warm and soft, way beyond the lines of professionalism, but so was her comment, she realizes.
And his harsh gaze caught her off guard. She knew he was going to be upset because of the change and recent injury, but she didn’t expect his eyes to darken the longer she stared at him.
“I’m a physiotherapist and am going to be in charge of your recovery for the time being.”
His hand wraps around the buckle of his boot, clasping it closed, “Are you sure you're qualified?”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t look a day older than me,” he spits.
She’s completely taken aback now. Martin certainly didn’t warn her about this, but she assumed this is what ‘easily irritable’ meant. She sits back, her hands clasping onto her thighs, “I’m sorry, it seems we got off the wrong foot so how about we just restart? I’m Aurie, I’m only a couple of months older than you, not that my age matters, but like what Martin told you, he taught me everything I need to know.”
Kylian bites onto his tongue, his eyes transfixed on her hands fidgeting against her thighs. She was just some months older than him and that seemed to make him lower his walls an inch or two. She was trying, while he certainly wasn’t. Maybe he should start. He rolls his eyes at his thoughts, “Martin seems to trust you, but after taking a glimpse at the books you keep on your bookshelf, I don’t think he was right.”
“Do you want me to call him for you?” She pulls her phone out of her pocket, quickly searching for Martin’s number.
This causes a rise out of Kylian, he sits up further, grimacing as he bangs his leg onto the coffee table. “No.”
“Okay then,” she says, forcing a polite smile towards him. Shoving the stack of textbooks to the other corner of the table, she sits down, his leg still in front of her. “I’m in charge of minimizing the swelling for the moment, can you let me do that? Trust me, the faster you cooperate, the quicker I can be done and out of your hair.”
He watches her hands hover over his leg again, pausing to look up at him, waiting for his permission to continue. He silently exhales, giving her a small nod and she unstraps his boot. Before she takes the brace off entirely, she gets up to retrieve an ice pack to minimize some of the pain he was feeling.
Kylian watches her every step, still stunned at how she held her ground. He had felt a bit guilty for his sudden outburst when Aurie was in the same position he was, and the shooting pain he had down his leg settled him back into his senses, knowing that she was the only one able to take the pain away.
“Are you comfortable this way? You’ll have to be seated like this for at least fifteen minutes,” she asks, crouching down at his leg. He silently nods, letting her do her work.
She slides the brace from underneath his leg while he bites onto his lip to stifle any pain he expected but none came. The only thing he felt were her fingers as they maneuvered the ice pack underneath him. His eyes don’t stray from scanning her crouched frame. The simple task of taking off the boot seemed so easy for her to do, and she did it without causing pain in just a few stealthy moves. Maybe Martin was right, but Kylian wasn’t going to admit that anytime soon.
“I’m going to go ahead and start dinner until the timer goes off,” she glances at him.
“Okay.” He’s completely entranced with the way her hands held onto the timer to set it. She tosses it up before catching it, and then walks towards the kitchen.
“I hope you like stew,” she teases. She looks over her shoulder with a grin and his mouth opens, but then shuts closed. His eyes end up giving away his amusement.
------
“Why don’t you work at PSG if you’re as good as they say?” Kylian asks after too many minutes of silence. He was sitting across from her and she could feel his eyes on her the entire time he ate. He didn’t even seem to care when she caught his stares, just continuing to stare right through her.  
The spoon clanks against the glass bowl as she sets it down, “It was just too much of a drastic change. I was there for a month before I refused an extension from Martin.”
“You were there with us?”
“Yes, but I only worked during training, never on the sidelines.”
He nods, it makes sense. He would have definitely remembered her face if he had seen her before because she would’ve stood out like a sore thumb in a group full of men. “Did Martin get on your nerves so much that you decided to leave?”
She smiles, taking in the kind light that glowed on his features. He didn’t seem as upset as before. Once she had taken the ice pack off of him, he took a nap on the couch and that seemed to have awakened a different man than the one before.
“Not necessarily. I was used to chronic injuries and chronic problems, that being around acute injuries was different. I’ve worked with older people extensively, so you know, they’ve lived their lives and dreams and everything they wanted to do—or they didn’t—but are still focused on the positives of their life,” she says. Kylian’s eyes don’t waver away from the smile that sweeps across her face.
She shrugs, “And then I was met with Neymar.” She chuckles and Kylian’s shoulders roll forward as he laughs. “I had seen the poor guy everyday. The more I was with him, the more stories he told me, and how he hated not playing. And then he would return to play, but then boom, be back in the room that same day.
“I got too emotional, too sad to know that whatever kind of precautions he took, sudden injuries were possible. Or in his case, because of the playstyle he has, his ankles were always going to be a problem for defenders. I disliked seeing how heartbroken he was and the others alongside him that it made me sad. How some players fight so hard for something and then it can just be gone that quickly or never comes…”
Her voice gradually fades away into a sobering tone and Kylian has to pry his eyes away from hers. He didn’t want to think of his own injury like that, and he certainly didn’t want to reminisce about lost opportunities.
“I would get too upset at seeing him in that room. He became a great friend, but god, did I dislike seeing him under those circumstances. It was like everything we worked on for weeks, anything new I tried on him, was for nothing,” she shudders and glances at Kylian’s wide eyes. Her words had startled him. “Anyway, I’m sorry about going on a tangent, I didn’t think it would get to that—”
“It’s okay, I had asked,” he waves her off, knowing that she sensed the sudden shift of the room.
“I don’t know how Martin does it,” she retreats. “Being the first on the field in a loud stadium like that, I did it once and froze up on the spot.”
He chuckles, enjoying the way her voice changed to being lively. “Are you going to tell me about it?”
She groans, “It isn’t all that much entertaining. It was a simple cramped up muscle, but I just froze up trying to take out the right bottle so I ended up spraying him with water, having grabbed a water bottle by accident.”
Kylian smirks, “But Martin said you were bright and a quick thinker.”
“I usually am, but that was a bad moment—a rookie mistake. After that, I immediately knew I didn’t belong on the field.”
His eyes trail down to her lips, his own heart suddenly soothing at the sight of it. The bubbling feeling rising in his chest is so unfamiliar that he presses his fingers to his chest to stop it.
“I should probably start washing the dishes so we can wind down, we have a big day tomorrow.” She stands up and grabs his dish, walking both of their bowls to the sink.
“I thought I was on bedrest?”
“You are, but that doesn’t mean you can’t go out to the retirement home with me,” she offers. Aurie’s back is facing him so she doesn’t see the confusion that grows on his face. “We have a bingo match to host.”
“Bingo?”
“Bright and early tomorrow.”
“You can’t be serious,” he deflates. “Martin said I needed to stay out of the public, that’s the whole reason why I’m here.”
She faces him, picking up the sleeves of her long sweater, “They’re in their seventies, they aren’t going to recognize you. It isn’t what you think it is.”
He tilts his head, “How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“You’re thinking it’s some giant hospital or charity event,” she guesses, and he blinks rapidly. She had guessed right. Shaking her head, she turns away from him and starts washing the dishes, “It isn’t like that. Just a little building that’s about a ten minute drive from here.”
Kylian chews on his lip, knowing that he wouldn’t mind leaving to see what this side has to offer. Feeling the need to help her out despite his injury, he gets up quietly and hobbles towards her with his crutches. He stops beside her, grabbing a kitchen towel to dry off the dishes.
“Kylian!” She scolds, looking down at his leg. “You shouldn’t be standing right now.”
“Let me just help you with this,” he shrugs, his arm grazing hers in the process. “I won’t do it again.”
She fights the smile that wants to break through her lips. It was a kind gesture and it made her feel better. She washes the dishes in comfortable silence, Kylian drying each of them as she hands them over.
As she washes the last pot, she faces Kylian as she hands it to him and he’s already staring back at her. His eyes are glued onto her nose and lips; she turns away, her cheeks burning.
He wants her attention back on him, just another moment to savor the feeling of whatever was brewing in his chest. He grimaces, “Your plant is dying.”
“Which one?” she chuckles, flashing her smile towards Kylian and he loses his balance, immediately clutching onto his crutch. She grabs a hold of bicep, her hand is still wet but neither of them care. Her other soapy hand grabs a fistful of his hoodie, “Are you okay?”
He nods, his ears burning with embarrassment. Never did he think someone’s smile would have him losing balance. “Yeah. And erm—the plant on the table.”
She frowns, “Ah, that one is my niece’s. Her dad, my brother-in-law, got her a plant last Valentine’s and she went on vacation, so it dried while she was gone. She was very upset about it and I promised her I’d revive it, but it might be a goner. I’m planning on just getting her a new one. I hate seeing her sad eyes.”
He smiles to himself, thinking about his own nephew and niece. He needed to call them whenever he got the chance. “You don’t think she’d notice?”
Aurie shakes her head, “Well she’s four, so I hope not. I’m just going to repot the new one because if that pot with pink hearts goes missing, that will certainly cause a stir.”
She leans over Kylian to put away the dried dishes that he had already dried on the dishrack. The scent of her hair engulfs Kylian’s nose and he gulps it down. He steps backwards to give her a little more space, “I think you can do it. Revive the plant.”
She walks in front of him to place the pots in the bottom cabinet, “I don’t know, I’ve been trying for a week. At this point, it’s up to the plant.”
He grins, his lips mocking hers, “It’s up to the plant…”
------
Muffled groans wake her up in the middle of the night. She had left her bedroom door ajar in case something happened to Kylian while he slept downstairs.
The groans only grow louder and she sighs, knowing that Kylian was probably in a grave amount of pain by now. His pain medications had to have worn off some hours ago, given that it was two in the morning. She grabs the box of his medicine and makes her way downstairs. The lamp by the couch was turned on, and it could have only been turned on if Kylian had walked to it—but he shouldn’t be walking at all.
She picks up her pace, rushing down the stairs, and once she comes into view with the bed, she almost shrieks in terror at the sight. Kylian had his head buried in his arms as he laid on his stomach, a girl near his legs massaging both of his calves.
“Who are you?!”
Kylian’s head shoots up from the couch and the girl freezes with her hands on his calves. The stark discoloration of Kylian’s calf just continued to angrily scream back at Aurie.
“What the hell is going on?”
Kylian can only gape in shock as he looks at Aurie. Her shirt had risen up while she slept and the joggers that she had worn earlier were stripped into a tiny pair of shorts that his sudden ability to think was lost, too entranced by the sudden view of her legs.
The weight of the bed shifting causes Kylian to snap back into reality as the girl stands up, “I’m sorry—”
“Who even are you?” Aurie stands about a meter in front of them, her eyes glued to the girl.
“I was just giving him a massage, he was in pain—”
“A massage?” She yells, her fists gripping onto her shorts trying to hold in the anger that rose through her. “Massaging a not even two-day-old strain? Are you trying to ruin his career?”
“What?” She gasps, looking back at Kylian and then Aurie, “No!”
“Then what did you think you were doing?”
Her mouth falls open and then closed, Aurie grows impatient with her lack of response.
“Get out of my house.”
Kylian shifts his weight onto his elbows, “Aurie, wait, she was just trying to help.”
Aurie takes a deep breath, and then pinches herself to make sure her sleep wasn’t deceiving her. As if that girl hadn’t just impeded Kylian’s healing process by days. Another pinch to her thigh to hope that she was hallucinating, that Kylian hadn’t actually invited an entire stranger to her home.
Kylian watches Aurie as she tries to calm down, and heat creeps onto his back as he realizes his own mistake. It slowly dawns on him, “Lucette didn’t know.”
Lucette turns, her brown hair swinging towards him, “We didn’t know.”
Kylian gulps, “We thought it was okay—I was in a lot of pain and it wasn’t going away. It felt like a knot…like it just needed to be kneaded out.”
She runs her hand down her face while her thumbs press into her eyes. She was baffled at their carelessness. Especially at Kylian, he should’ve known better.
Not just with his calf, but also for disregarding the basic communication of bringing someone over while she slept upstairs. He had never asked for permission nor even mentioned it as a heads up. It was one thing if it was in the afternoon to be met with a surprise visitor, but at two in the morning?
She was absolutely livid.
Lucette swallows, grabbing her jacket, “I think I’m just going to go.”
“Please do,” Aurie responds, too upset to be nice and beyond the time to be professional.
Kylian’s eyes grow wide, “Aurie.” Lucette walks towards him, bending down to kiss him and Aurie turns away.
Of course he brought his girlfriend to her place and she wanted to be the savior. The story could write itself. Aurie tries to calm down her breathing.
Lucette beelines towards the front door and Aurie doesn’t shy away from eyeing her down. Kylian was going to get mouthful and she was going to have to tell Martin and Dr. Minic in the morning.
She locks the door after Lucette leaves and lets out a slow exhale while closing her eyes.
“You didn’t have to be so rude to her,” Kylian grits, rolling around to lay on his back. “It’s two in the morning and you really kicked her out? C’mon now.”
She stares at him in silence, still debating what she should say first.
“I needed help and you were sleeping.”
She shakes her head, “So you called someone with no kind of medical background?”
His eyebrows crease, “We had read a bunch of articles on Google.”
“Oh my god, Kylian. You can’t be this stupid. You can’t have made it this far and be this stupid. You have a Grade 2 muscle strain! If it was a Grade 1, yeah, sure you can massage it, but are you kidding? A Grade 2?” Her voice is still hoarse from the night as she places her hands on her hips.
Kylian leans forward, wincing at his leg, “Don’t call me stupid. You were nowhere to be found and I was in a lot of pain.”
“My door was wide open, you idiot! I would have heard you if you were calling out to me.”
“You didn’t hear the front door open,” he taunts.
“Because that was the last thing I expected to happen!” She retorts, “I woke up because I heard you grunting in what sounded like pain, so I got up to bring you your medicine.”
Kylian’s eyes grow as he looks at the box in her hand. After having spent the past hour gnawing his teeth, he didn’t realize she carried the very solution to end it.
“I can’t believe you,” she palms her forehead. “I can’t believe you brought a total stranger to this house. I’m just—”
He doesn’t like the way Aurie’s irritation had turned into utter disappointment, it felt too much like the scoldings he would get when he was in school or ruined a perfect pass. He turns away, his eyes instead focusing on her legs—or on anything else for that matter.
Her vision was still blurred from the grogginess of her sudden wake and the dismay of events that transpired. Her head started to pound.
“You know what, I refuse to deal with this,” she rubs her eyes. “I’m not about to sit here and make a detailed plan and timeline of your recovery while you could care less about it. Quite frankly, I’m not getting paid enough for this.”
She starts pacing towards the kitchen, searching for a glass. She fills it with water and walks where he lay. “You’re only making yourself worse and I am not a therapist for a reason. If you don’t want to do your recovery here, then fine, I don’t care. This was a favor for Martin, not you. So you know what, you can go home tomorrow. And here’s your fucking medicine.”
She rips open the bottle cap and sets a capsule beside his water.
Finished and done with the game he was playing.
“And put a damn pillow underneath your leg when you sleep,” she sneers.
Kylian watches her in complete silence. Too awestriken with what just occurred. First she was kicking Lucette out, and now she was giving him the greenlight to leave. He should’ve felt relieved, that he wouldn’t have to put up with whatever this sudden arrangement was, but he didn’t. He felt guilty again.
He knew that he had messed up and knew that he should have asked her before he let Lucette massage him, but he didn’t think much of it at the time. He especially didn’t think it would cause him further injury.
------
Kylian had woken up in a gross amount of pain the next morning. It had rendered him speechless, afraid that if he moved it would radiate through him worse. He breathed heavily, trying to calm himself down but he couldn’t. He wanted to call for Aurie but his mind was still repeating the events from the previous night. How willing was Aurie to still help him despite what she said last night and what he had done?
But there she was. He heard the creak of the wooden stairs as she came to him quickly.
“Hey,” she greets. His eyes are screwed shut and his arms are splayed on top of his face. She touches his arm gingerly and he wants to melt at the sound of her voice and touch, wanting to just inch towards her in hopes that the pain drowns away. It seemed to work because it had subsided by a fraction, but it was enough to have him slowly opening his eyes. “Sit up to take your medicine.”
“I don’t want to move,” he stresses.
Her lips tug into a frown, and he stares at the feature, wanting to somehow wipe away the worry. She stands before he can continue thinking of ways to erase her frown, “I’ll help you.”
Kylian hadn’t noticed that he was profusely sweating through his clothes until she tugged at his waist, his shirt feeling grossly stuck to his body. He cringes as he wills himself up. She adjusts a pillow behind him, her eyes already fixed onto his calf.
He swallows the pill and gulps the rest of the water with haste. Her hands are busy unwrapping the compression bandage he wore. His leg had swelled more, and the bandage being tight was what caused him the pain because as soon as she loosened it, he let out a groan of satisfaction.
She takes a moment to examine his leg. Lucette’s massage had done an extensive amount of damage through the night and Aurie’s job to fix it just slowly got delayed. His swelling and purple bruises only seemed to grow, already putting him two more days behind schedule. Martin certainly wasn’t going to be happy.
“Did she massage your thigh by any chance?” Aurie asks, watching Kylian’s chest heave up and down, sweat dripping down his temples.
Kylian nods, wiping the sweat away from his face, “Yeah.”
Aurie stares back at his thigh, trying to peek at his hamstrings to see if there's any discoloration, but she knows she doesn’t have to look to know her answer.
His month-long stay would now have to be a month and a half. Something that neither her or Martin had discussed. She promised her job that she would be back within a month and that Kylian would be all Martin’s responsibility afterward.
But that was no longer her problem, he was going home today anyway.
She lets out an unnoticeable sigh, grabbing the black compression wrap and starts wrapping his leg back up, making sure it isn’t too tight for him.
“Thank you,” he exhausts, his eyes fluttering closed.
Her shoulders only fell back at the sight of him: sweaty and exhausted, his eyebrows creased and his lips parted open. His hands are clenching onto the shorts he wore, trying to distract himself until the meds kicked in. Even if she wanted him to be gone already, to get rid of the fever dream she and him had both experienced last night, she would have to help him in the shower first.
That was going to take a while.
-
Note: I wasn’t sure to add the people from my other main taglist that I had for my other fics since this is a whole series so uh yeah haha. Just let me know! AHH first chapter, I think I was more excited to finally just get this out here so I could stop looking back at the chapter and trying to add anymore edits--especially after the disappointing loss to Bayern. Anyway, how are we feeling? Any first chapter thoughts? I’ll most likely stay between 6k-10k words for each chapter.
Taglist: @kylianswifey @darlingmbappe​
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oblivious-idiot · 1 year
Note
HI- so I was wondering if you could do a Lockwood x reader where she comes home early in the morning and collapses as soon as she steps foot into the apartment and worries everyone (but if affects Lockwood the most)? Thanks :) ❤️
Patching Up
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Warnings: mentions of injury, hurt/comfort, pining, teasing, fluff <3
Word count: 1k
Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader
All throughout your childhood, especially since working as an agent, you never had any help when you got injured, your parents never really caring for your wellbeing as long as you were bringing them cash. You were never sure on how to open up about the whole thing, but you did notice how much Lockwood worried about you whenever you returned from a case bloodied and bruised.
Of course, if you were obviously injured it was hard to escape the situations where your colleagues turned into trainee doctors, especially Lockwood. He wasn't the best at tending wounds that was for certain, but you couldn't make yourself push him away, because most of the time you needed the care. Although you knew it was selfish, but seeing Lockwood wanting to care and tend to your wounds made your heart ache. Was this what it was like to have someone love you?
Tonight's case was one of your most dangerous yet, with multiple encounters from Type Two ghosts, many of which the team didn't have much experience with dealing firsthand. The agency had taken a job in which to clear out an old country house that had been empty for over a decade due to a series of deaths from small group of ghosts, your employer being kind enough to tell you very little about. With the wide range of Talents your group had - Lucy being a Listener, Lockwood having Sight, while you and George were best at Touch - you would think that you'd all be pretty well off when it came to battling Ghosts.
Of course, that was never the case, tonight especially. While Lockwood and George took care of the Sources, you and Lucy dealt with the Visitors - though they were a lot more powerful than you were used to handling. The Ghosts were Spectres, angry ones at that, and they were not happy to have the living there at all. After a long night of throwing salt bombs and being thrown around, George and Lockwood finally secured the Sources and the house went quiet.
Dawn had arrived when the cab pulled up outside 35 Portland Row, everyone dragging themselves out of their seated positions to head up to the house. "You did great today y/n," Lockwood called out behind to you, though you didn't feel great, but you stumbled up the front steps into the house. You must've stood up or gone up the steps too quickly because practically as soon as you placed down your kit bag in the hall you began to feel dizzy, and before you knew you crashed onto the cold hard floor.
"George, will you go grab a glass of water? For when she wakes up?" Lockwood said, worry tainting his voice "Lockwood, why don't you go get the first aid kit? I'll keep an eye on her" Lucy's voice calm and soft. You groaned and your hand lifted to the side of your head where it has collided with the floor, you could feel the swelling under your fingers "What happened?" you croaked out as you opened your eyes to see that you were laid on the couch in the living room. "You passed out practically as soon as we came home, gave us a right fright" George said as he came back in the room with your glass of water, Lucy helping you sit up on the couch, you winced as your hand clutched your side. "Y/n! Oh thank goodness you're awake!" Lockwood beamed as he rushed into the room before his eyes met your pained expression and hand on your abdomen "What happened?"
"I'm fine, really. It's probably just a scratch and the adrenaline from the case has worn off." you finally say as you sat up fully, giving your team a pained smile. "You're clearly not fine y/n," Lucy says, her voice sounding more worried as she knelt beside you "Do you mind if I take a look?" "Do I have a choice in the matter?" You joked as she slowly lifted up your shirt to reveal a large gash across your side "Bloody hell y/n, how did you do that!?" Lockwood said as he rushed to your side, first aid kit in hand "I- I don't know, I was too caught up with those Spectres to notice. It was probably when I got thrown into that glass cabinet" that comment didn't do you any favours though "you got thrown into a glass cabinet!?" cried both Lockwood and George.
After Lucy cleaned you up the best you could, you hobbled upstairs to your room so you could shower, letting them all know you'd be okay and you'd put on a fresh bandage when you were done. You noticed you'd gained a fair few new cuts and bruises from this case, cursing as the hot water hit your broken skin. Taking you by surprise was Lockwood waiting for you in your room when you were emerged from the shower "Anthony, why are you still awake?" you called to him which directed his eyes to you "hey.. sorry, I was worried and I just wanted to make sure you were okay" he let out, trying to hide his worry with one of his signature smiles.
You found out a fresh bandage from the first aid kit and sat down on the bed next to him "Trust me, worse has happened" you chuckle softly "Do you mind giving me a hand?" you ask as you hand him the bandage for your side "I- oh yeah of course" Lockwood replied as he took it in his hands, his cheeks glowing pink. You let out a sharp breath as you felt Lockwood's cold fingers graze your hot skin as he pulled up your top just high enough to see the cut. "Jesus, Lockwood, you could've warned me you were freezing" you joked as he placed the bandage over the cut, his fingers softly smoothing down the edges so they stuck "I'll make sure I warm them next time" he teased back as his eyes met with yours. His fingers slowly intertwined with yours, you could practically feel his breath on your lips "Promise me you'll be more careful next time y/n" "But then how else are you going to practice your medical skills?" you teased before he pulled you into a soft kiss.
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year
Note
Sugar and spice Drabble idea, maybe? Jungkook needs someone to watch his hybrid at the last minute and can’t find anyone who’s free to watch her. Namjoon overhears and decides to offer to watch her so he can try to get to know her a little. But the whole thing goes sideways and Y/N gets injured somehow when Namjoon turns his attention away from her for a few minutes. I absolutely adore this series by the way!!
You wanted angst, you get angst. Suffer.
"Are you absolutely SURE you can handle this?" Jungkook asks for the fourth time now, checking everything again to make sure nothing could go wrong. It's urgent, a family emergency, and he doesn't have any travel meds for you- so he needs someone to at least be home while he's away. With the carecenter closed at this time however, and no one else available, only Namjoon was up for the task-
And to say that Jungkooks is worried, would be an understatement.
"You said she's calm today, right? It'll be fine." The rapper reassures, more or less confident that he'll manage alright with you. You're a hybrid, you're quiet and calm, you're independent and very much capable of making your own choices as Jungkook had said before. What could go wrong, really?
A lot, apparently.
While it all goes smoothly for a while, Jungkook calling in that night to say that he's going to be on his way back home by tomorrow morning, it all goes south when Namjoon goes out to buy himself something to eat- leaving you alone in the apartment, with no supervision whatsoever.
Now, in one aspect, Jungkook is definitely 100% right. You're no child, no pet. You're very capable of using your human side to make decisions properly. However, that also gives out its risks - because your human judgment does tend to forget sometimes that you're simply not supposed to eat certain things. And with the bandleader not having made any food, neither when he arrived nor now late for dinner, your stomach is screaming for anything to fill it.
In an effort to find anything to at least somewhat soothe your hunger so you can sleep later, you look into the fridge for something you could maybe eat- finding a small container of pudding, left by Namjoon himself. You, however, don't know it's his. It's in your fridge, so it's okay to eat, right?
And Namjoon isn't even mad at you for eating it when he comes back home- simply nodding and shrugging it off as no big deal, giving you the okay to finish the other one left as well. It's something you eagerly agree to- you've never had chocolate before.
You go to sleep feeling a little off- but you blame it on simply missing Jungkook.
When Jungkook texts Namjoon a few hours later in the morning to ask how you're doing, Namjoon lazily replies with an 'doing good, dw' to his friend- but he himself has to get up and actually search for you, because you're nowhere in sight. Do you always sleep this long?
He finds you in the bathroom on the floor, and he can feel himself start to panic.
"Hey- what's wrong?" He tries, but you're not coherent, slurring your voice to the point of making them unrecognizable. He doesn't know what's happening, doesn't realize he's being called by none other than the singer he'd promised to that he'd take proper care of you.
Maybe he can fix this before Jungkook comes home?
Wrong.
Because the door rings just minutes later.
When Jungkook enters the apartment, his smile is immediately wiped off at the sight of his bandleader. "I fucked up." He says, and Jungkook immediately turns serious. "I don't know how, or what's wrong- but I fucked up." He says, leading Jungkook to the bathroom where you've completely slumped over the side of the toilet, barely conscious.
"What the hell happened?" Jungkook asks sternly, immediately helping you try and sit up, skin pale and heart racing under his hand pressed to your chest. "Baby? Hey, I'm back- can you hear me?" He asks, but you don't really respond. "What are you standing there, call an ambulance!" Jungkook barks out angrily at his friend, who scrambles to get the call out.
In the waiting room at the ER, he finally snaps.
"I asked you multiple times! Multiple!" Jungkook angrily states, uncaring of the age difference or any respect. "You said you'd look after her, and here we are! Do you hate her this much?!" He wants to know, Jimin holding him back as he paces back and forth.
"I didn't know.." namjoon mumbles embarrassed, unsure what to say.
"You could've.. no, SHOULD have asked me." Jungkook says, now a lot more quiet. And it's not really any better- if anything, the tone of voice the youngest is using is ice cold, and nothing he's ever heard before. "I trusted you. I really did." Jungkook explains. "I thought, hey, maybe he just needs to see it first hand. Maybe I can change his mind about this." He chuckles darkly. "What a great idea that was."
There's nothing else said between the two for a long time, until a doctor walks up to them. "We couldn't get anything out of her system. She's basically already started digesting most of it; all we can do is help her body break it down on its own." The doctor states. "I've got high hopes she will be just fine. But I have to always remind you that it's not a cakewalk, and complications are common." He explains, making Jungkook sigh with his head in his hands.
"It'll be okay." Jimin offers quietly, and the doctor nods as well.
"Lets keep a positive mindset. You're her owner, correct?" He asks Jungkook, who immediately nods. "You can stay in her room with her. Don't be alarmed by all the machines though." He says, as he leads the zinger to where you're laying in the ICU.
"What do I do if.." Namjoon says after a while of silence, Jimin shaking his head.
"Lets not think about that right now. How could you let her just eat that?" Jimin scolds a lot more gently.
"I didn't know she shouldn't have it!" Namjoon whines. "Jungkook always says she's so independent, yet then she does this!"
"Are you seriously blaming her right now?" Jimin states, unsure. "How many times have you forgotten something? Now imagine living with two different mindsets, two different instincts, all the time. Just try and imagine how confusing that must be." He tries to break through his bandleader. "Its not easy, for neither him nor her. The least you could've done is simply ask." He states.
"I know.. I know and that's the problem." Namjoon shakes his head. "If.. this goes bad, I don't know if he can forgive me." He mumbles quietly, and Jimin sighs.
"I don't think anyone could." Jimin honestly responds before crossing his arms. "For now, let's pray she gets better. Then we'll go from there."
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rileytwenty · 1 year
Text
IDIA || an Avatar story (x Neteyam)
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Chapter 1
Masterlist
(English Na'vi)
When Jake came back to the hidden mountain base, he was stressed out. Everyone noticed. Neteyam was injured. Neytiri wouldn't let go of Tuk. Tensions were high.
Spider was gone. Opposite from Kiri, Jake and Neytiri didn't seem overly concerned.
I was curious of the situation but I knew how Neytiri felt about me. So, I kept my distance and waited for Norm to come tell me what was going on as he usually did.
"Y/N?" Just as anticipated, Norm came over. The look on his face, though, was less normal. "We need to talk. You should sit down."
"Why? What's happening?"
"Look, some of Jake's kids just ran into something, well... sorta new. We're calling them Recoms. They're kind of just, uh, more RDA avatars. Except instead of the mind coming from a transfer bed, they have memories implanted from a drive. The drives were taken as a precautionary copy of the minds of some of the important military individuals before the battle."
"Then, these new avatars have all the same memories as those individuals before the battle? They basically brought them back in avatar bodies?"
"Yeah, actually, that's right."
"Who? I remember some names."
"Miles Quaritch, for one."
"Ass."
"His little posse of Sec-Ops is almost entirely back, too." He gave me a hesitant stare, as if looking at a detonating bomb, but I didn't get why.
"What does this mean?"
He stared at me for another moment before responding, "well, they're basically hunting the Sullys. They're also looking for you."
"What? Why? What asset am I to them?"
"Uh..." he chuckled uncomfortably, before sarcastically adding, "who knows?"
"That doesn't make any sense." I stopped to think, rubbing a hand down my forehead. "Well, what's going to happen now?"
"I have no idea. Jake seems to have a plan but he wanted to talk to Neytiri first. I think you should go talk to him."
"Well, is Neytiri there? 'Cause you know how she is with me."
"I don't think you'll be the first thing on her mind. She almost lost her children today."
"You're right, sorry. I'll go." I began to walk around him when he put a hand out to stop me.
"You really don't...?"
"Don't what?"
"Nothing. Never mind. Go find Jake."
And so I did. Though, I was weirded out by Norm not being his typical self. This all sounded really serious, almost as serious as when the RDA first returned and all that forest was lost.
"Jake? Mrs. Sully?" I stood outside their marui, palms sweating and nervous itches sprouting. Neytiri flung open the door flap.
"What, girl?" She snapped. She only ever spoke to me in her mother tongue.
"Is Jake here?"
"Why do you want to know? What business do you have with him?"
"Neytiri, sweetie, just let her in. I guess she should have a choice in this, too." Jake sounded from somewhere in the structure. Neytiri's ears were flat on her head, but she abided by her mate.
"What's going on, Jake? Norm told me to come speak with you."
"Yeah, well that was before Neytiri got a say in it." He let out one chuckle before seeing said woman's face and cutting himself off.
"Okay, here's the deal. My family and I are deciding on whether or not to leave here, for the safety of the clan. The more the Sky People look for us here, the more likely this place is to be found out."
Neytiri was visibly crushed by this idea. This clan is her home. Her sanctuary. Her people.
"You can't say this, ma Jake. We must keep fighting to stay with our people. You want me to leave my mother?"
He was visibly trying to hide his despair. "Us staying here could get your mother killed. Or get our kids killed."
"Aagh!" She scoffed, turning away in frustration.
"What I'm trying to say, Idia, is that they're out for you, too. There's no point in us leaving without you, or else they'd still be searching for this place."
"I..." I couldn't find words. "I couldn't come with you." Because I'd have no one; your kids won't have as much as a conversation with me and your wife wishes me dead. I haven't left this cave system in months, I'm not ready for a change that big. "Who would keep Norm company?"
Jake let out a fatherly laugh at that. I was happy to make him laugh at a time like this. "Norm would be fine. Respectfully, Idia, you'd be putting a lot of people at risk if you stay."
"She is not coming, Jake. How can we trust that she won't tell the Sky People where we are?"
"Neytiri, please. She wouldn't do that. Besides, she has no way to contact them if she wanted to."
"Ma Jake, this is too much. I cannot say yes. You are Toruk Makto. Fight this!"
Jake shut his eyes and pinched his nose. "They almost got our children, Neytiri. They had guns to their heads. If one of those Recoms had decided to pull the trigger, we would have been helpless."
I was truly considering the concept, but couldn't accept it. "Where would we go?"
"Across the sea, to the Metkayina clan. We can seek refuge there, if Ronal allows it. I know Tonowari will try to help us." Jake was friends with a lot of the other Olo'ektans, Tonowari included.
"Rah!" Another cry of frustration from Neytiri. "'If Ronal allows it,'" she quoted distastefully.
A giggle came from the side of the tent.
"TUK!" I recognized the voice as Lo'ak, younger son of the couple before me. The marui fell silent.
"Lo'ak. Kids. Get in here now." Jake demanded. His tone scared even me.
Kiri, Tuk and Lo'ak filed in silently, with the older two glaring holes in Tuk's head. Though, she seemed not to notice.
Neytiri sucked in a breath angrily.
"What have I told you three about eavesdropping?" Jake's voice was low, threatening.
"This seemed important, dad. It involves us, so I think we should be allowed to hear it." Kiri spoke up courageously. Jake's eyes softened at her response. He'd always had a soft spot for her. Norm told me it had to do with her mother, Grace.
"Okay, fine. But if I catch you eavesdropping again I'll skin you, you hear me?"
"Yes, dad." Kiri rolled her eyes and I couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if anyone else had rolled their eyes after that comment. Jake sighed.
"Lo'ak, go find Neteyam. We need to have a family meeting. Idia, I'll come talk with you once we decide."
I nodded and left the marui.
taglist: @im-kaii
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smittywing · 11 months
Text
FicBit: Jason Todd/Tim Drake
Spending the weekend at Awesome Con, but first, the Good Stuff.
Previous parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
Jason didn’t seek Tim out. But Red Robin signaled for backup two blocks from Jason’s favorite safehouse. (It was upstairs from a bakery and sometimes he fell asleep to the aroma of baking cinnamon rolls.) 
He arrived on scene and counted - well, shit, they were Ra’s guys -  two active, four down, and Red Robin whipping his bo staff back into one’s gut.  The assassin gasped and stumbled back but he didn’t go down. Jason pistol-whipped the other active one and he went down. Red Robin spun and smacked the first assassin across the jaw with his staff.
Belatedly, Jason realized Red Robin was fighting with his non-dominant left hand.  “You okay?” he called, dropping to one knee to start securing the unconscious assassins with zip ties.
“Dislocated elbow,” Tim grunted. “It fucking hurts.”
“Ow,” Jason agreed. “I’ve got a safehouse two blocks from here. You want to drop by and I’ll try to pop you back in place.”
“Yeah. As long as I don’t have to do any grappling.”
“Nah, as long as you can jump a fire escape or two?”
“I'm injured, not unconscious,” Tim said dryly and Jason grinned widely under his mask. 
He didn't exactly have to lead Tim to his safehouse - Tim clearly already knew where he was crashing. But he waited politely while Jason disabled his security measures and sat down at the kitchen table with a pained grunt. 
“You want a shot of anything before I do it?” Jason asked, taking off his helmet and setting it on the counter. Tim’s elbow was just out of position, almost normal except where it most definitely was not. 
“No, just get it over with.” Tim sounded resigned and cranky. 
“You sure?” Jason asked and snapped the joint into place without waiting for an answer. Tim screamed silently, an open mouth and a hissing exhale, and then reached up with his left hand and peeled away his domino. He looked exhausted, which was normal, and a little sad, which was not. At least not since Cannon Fodder had come on the scene. 
Jason opened the fridge and frowned at the contents. He only had three eggs and no bacon, but he could make a frittata with spinach and mushrooms, maybe. He also had three bottles of beer so he snagged two of them and turned to sit one in front of Tim. “Here,” he said. “You deserve this, at least.”
“Thanks.” Tim snapped the lid off with the edge of the brass knuckles built into his glove and stared into the bottle. 
“Is the old man up in your business again?” Jason asked quietly. He and Tim once had a long talk about their respective relationships with Ra’s al Ghul and then never spoke of the topic again. It was more Tim’s choice than Jason’s. Jason would just prefer not to talk. 
“He makes a bid now and then,” Tim finally says and chases the words with a long pull of beer. “Hey, this one is pretty good.”
“I told you, it grows on you,” Jason said. If he had picked a sweeter, milder brew than before, it was because variety was the spice of life, or some shit like that. 
“I like it,” Tim assured him. “So. Um. What was Dick on about last Sunday?”
“Oh, that.” Jason shrugged his jacket off and sat down in the kitchen chair next to Tim. “It's not a big deal.”
Tim raised an eyebrow, Alfred-style, and wrapped his mouth around the neck of the bottle. The color was returning to his lips, which had been pale when he was in pain, and Jason was having a real hard time not watching that. Not wanting that. 
Jason sighed through his teeth. “I was 15 when I died and 18 when I came back and I never really went through puberty. So it never occurred to me that maybe I could possibly like guys.”
“Oh.” Tim’s mouth popped off the bottle. “Oh. Do you think you might?”
Jason shrugged, a little more violently than he intended and tore his gaze away from Tim’s mouth. It didn't help a whole lot because then it landed on Tim’s fingers, which were worrying the edge of the label, and yeah, that was gonna be a problem, too. 
“Don't know,” he said. “Never did before.”
This might have been a lie. 
“Well, have you ever kissed another guy?” Tim asked. 
“I think that would clear things up if I had,” Jason grumbled. “Don't you?”
“Not if it was the wrong guy,” Tim answered easily. “Like, I already knew Bernard and I like him, as a person, but also there's this… I don't know. Chemistry, maybe? Kissing doesn't work with just anyone. If it did, you could just kiss me and you’d have your answer.”
“I couldn't kiss you,” Jason said, his mouth suddenly dry. “You're not even legal.”
“You're not even a legal entity,” Tim retorted and it should have sounded ridiculous but it made Jason grin instead. He sat up and rested his elbows on his knees. 
“Maybe not,” he admitted, “but that means I get to sleep more than an hour every three nights.”
“Yeah, thanks, I needed that reminder,” Tim said and then he leaned in and pressed a soft, closed-lipped kiss to Jason’s mouth. 
Tim was the right guy. 
Jason's body prickled and a hot flush raced up his center. He pressed in and kissed Tim back, a determined, awkward need driving him. Tim wasn't backing off so Jason parted his lips, took a breath, and kissed Tim like he should be kissed, hands coming up to cup Tim’s face, fingertips trailing through Tim’s hair. 
Tim opened his mouth under Jason’s and pressed closer. 
*Yes* Jason’s body sang. *Yes, this.*
He deepened the kiss and moved his hands down, pressing his palms against Tim’s narrow hips and then closing his fingers, hauling Tim tight against him. He bumped up against him and holy fuck, that was Tim’s cock. Tim was hard for him, too. 
With a gasp, Tim pulled away. Jason let go of him reluctantly and watched Tim press a hand to his mouth. 
“I have a boyfriend,” Tim said hollowly. 
“You kissed me,” Jason said, demonstrating his ability to say the exact wrong thing at any given moment. 
“I didn't - I didn't think it would be like that,” Tim said and it's the stupidest thing he's ever said in Jason’s hearing because *of course* it was like that. Jason hadn't had any expectations whatsoever but he realized now that there was no other way it could be. 
“Isn't it like that with Cannon Fodder?” Jason. challenged because. Exact. Wrong. Thing. 
“Yes,” Tim said. “No. It's different with every person. You should know that.”
“Should I?”  Jason wasn't so sure. He’d kissed some women. Had even slept with a few of them. And it was different, okay, but not different like this. 
“I guess you do now,” Tim temporized. He rubbed his lower lip. He still seemed a little shell-shocked. “Does that answer your question?”
“I guess it does,” Jason said evenly. Yeah, Jason liked kissing guys. And he fucking loved kissing Tim. 
“Okay, well. Now you know.”  
Tim stood there, mouth red, eyes so blue, and hair falling over his forehead. He was staring at Jason like he'd never seen him before. 
“I won't tell - “ Not Cannon Fodder, Jason scolded himself. Say his real name. Make him real.
“No, no. I - that's on me,” Tim said quickly. “I’ll tell him. “He’ll be okay with it if I explain the context. He will,” Tim repeated and Jason realized he was trying to convince himself, not Jason. 
“Yeah,” he said. “The context, yeah. It’ll be okay.”
It was not okay. Jason did not want Tim to go and apologize to Bernard. He did not want Bernard to forgive Tim. He wanted Tim to stay right there and step back into his arms, and kiss him again. 
“I have to go,” Tim said. “I - I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
Jason almost said no, just to guilt Replacement into staying there, with him, a little bit longer, but that was so totally off-brand for him. “Of course,” he scoffed. “Don't be stupid. Hey, I learned something new about myself. It's a hell of a lot more fun than returning from the dead. That's a trip.”
“Okay,” Tim said. “Let me know how you're doing, okay? Maybe we can all go out some night.”
Because that's what he wanted, to watch Bernard and Tim holding hands and being cute and being young and in love. Jason didn't watch Tim exit the fire escape window. But he knew by the chill wind that he was gone. 
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