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#somehow each day got a little bit worse than the day before
becca-e-barnes · 7 months
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Can i request something where bucky has a smutty obsession with sundresses? Just the way his doll looks in them and stuff?
I've definitely written Bucky loving sundresses before but now that there's a bit of a chill in the air, I'm imagining the same sundresses but with tights underneath 😏
Having the tights keeps you a little bit warmer but it doesn't give Bucky the access he's used to. The tights are such a tease because he knows how flimsy they are but they're in the way of what he wants and that would never do.
He does love the feeling of them though. The thin material is so smooth under his fingertips, there's an attractive sheen to them and he finds he can't take his eyes off your legs, right at the hem of your dress.
"Sweetheart." Bucky's voice is firm and it makes you smile to yourself. "Come here."
He's sitting by the kitchen table, sipping his coffee and you know that he's been watching you since you came down to make your breakfast.
You peck his lips softly when you reach him, enjoying the way a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Everything okay?" You ask, letting him press his knee between your thighs, spreading your legs.
His hands land on your legs out of instinct. The silky smooth feeling does something for him that he didn't quite expect and for a second, touching you over the fabric feels just as intimate as touching your bare skin.
"I like these." Bucky teases, squeezing your ass, making you roll slightly against his thigh.
"I'm glad you like them. You need to be gentle though, you'll rip them."
That wasn't even something he'd considered but now it's all he can think about. Those perfect tights, totally ruined, your panties pushed out of the way so there's nothing between your body and his fingers.
"You've never really liked it when I'm too gentle." He reminds you and you can't help but giggle because he's right and you know it. "What if... I just ripped a hole. Right here. Between your legs." His fingers tap the apex of your thighs, through your tights and underwear and your only option is to grind down on his thigh just a little harder.
"That would ruin them." You rock your hips back and forth, enjoying the friction against his insanely muscular thigh, letting your own need build.
"I don't think so. I think it might make them better. You know I like those pretty dresses you wear. Putting that flimsy fabric in the way is just a tease." Both of his hands meet under your skirt, testing the resistance of the material when he tugs in different directions.
"Rip them." You whisper, half pleading.
He huffs out a quiet laugh, pulling harder and you feel the fabric give the whole way across with little ladders beginning to run down the legs.
"Bend over. Let me see." You do as you're told, standing up, pulling the skirt of your dress up to expose your clothed sex to him.
It's not clothed for long though, he widens the hole just a little, slipping your panties to the side to allow him to sink a finger into your wet, eager, inviting cunt, quickly followed by a second.
"Pretty little hole to fuck you through." He muses, watching you try to resist the urge to fuck yourself on his fingers, getting more and more desperate for his cock.
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woso-dreamzzz · 18 days
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Surgery VIII
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: You go to the cat shelter
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If Ingrid was getting you a cat then she would do it properly.
She'd researched cat shelters. She'd found one that had a recent intake of kittens.
A cat was a lifelong friend and you and your cat deserved to grow up together.
She'd contacted the shelter and arranged a visit.
Ingrid knew today would be the day you got your cat so she'd prepared with a carrier and some blankets. She'd expected you to get attached to the kittens, to want to keep all of them and she'd already planned out a speech on why you could only have one, two if they were particularly closely bonded.
Somehow, the alternative was much worse.
You hadn't gotten attached to the kittens at all. You'd had a lot of fun playing with them but none had sparked a bond with you.
So, Ingrid resigned herself to you having a full grown cat as your companion. It wasn't the growing up together idea she had planned but that was okay.
Ingrid watches as you go through the rows of enclosures full of cats. She's content to let you and Mapi take the lead, equally as excited as each other and feeding off each other's energy.
You gasp and Ingrid looks up from her phone.
"I love them!"
At first, Ingrid is glad that you've found a cat that you seem to like but then she looks at Mapi and goes pale. Mapi's eyes are wide and she's furiously shaking her head at Ingrid.
Mapi can deny you nothing so Ingrid knows it's up to her to guide you away from this decision.
Though she isn't quite sure why Mapi isn't happy that you've found your forever friend.
Well...maybe because it's not one forever friend but two.
Ingrid's face mimics Mapi's perfectly as she peers into the cage.
Two cats sit inside.
One is truly a monstrosity. It's massive with long, ginger fur and a tuft that reaches all around its neck like a mane. Its face is reminiscent of a lion as well, all regal and judgemental.
The second is also a ginger tabby but the size of a regular cat. Or, it would be if it wasn't the fattest cat Ingrid has ever seen. It's practically a circle and she wonders briefly how it's even supporting its own weight as it wanders over to where you've stuck your fingers through the arms.
"I see you've found our gingers."
Ingrid nearly screams as one of the shelter workers approach.
"They were surrendered by a nice old lady who couldn't care for them anymore."
Mapi scoffs. "Yeah, looks like she really cared for them." She's pointedly looking at the chunky cat that has now rolled onto its back for belly tickles that you strain through the bars to give it.
The shelter worker winces. "Yeah, he's a little fat, isn't he?"
"Not fat!" You snap," Cuddle sized!"
The worker laughs a little bit. "He does give good cuddles. But he's on a weight loss program. Believe it or not he was much larger when he arrived."
Ingrid can't believe it because this cat is truly round and she can't imagine it being fatter than it is now.
"And of course, we've got his young friend there. They were surrendered together so they're very attached. They're bonded so we can't let one go without the other."
"Here that, cub?" Ingrid decides to break it to you now. "We can't bring one of them home without the other. Say goodbye now and we'll go and look at the kittens again."
You pout, drawing your hand away from the fat cat. "Bye-bye."
You turn to leave, Mapi already halfway across the room to see the kittens again before a loud yowling chirp freezes you in your tracks.
The big lion cat keeps warbling until you turn to face it.
"Sorry," You say," Mama says we can't take you away from each other."
As if he knows who to blame, the lion cat hisses at Ingrid before purring as he rubs his body across the bars of the cage. His fat companion remains flopped on his back in invitation (though Ingrid's ninety percent sure it's because he's so fat that he can't actually get up again).
Ingrid tries to guide you away but the lion cat keeps calling for your attention and the fat cat stays on his back for belly tickles.
She looks at Mapi for help.
"No," She says, catching Mapi's apologetic look," Mapi, no. He's fat and the other one is a monstrosity."
"Ingrid..."
"Mapi! You can't be serious!"
"We agreed on getting her a cat."
"Yes, a cat! One cat!"
"You said two at a stretch," You say quite unhelpfully. Over the course of the argument, you've somehow gotten into the cage and are sitting on the floor happily as you give the fat cat belly tickles while the monster sits in your lap.
"Oh, yeah, you did say that Ingrid."
"Mapi, whose side are you on right now?"
"Er...I'll be quiet. Cub, if you want the cats you need to convince Ingrid."
"I won't be convinced."
You stay silent for a long while even as Ingrid tries to get you moving.
Eventually, you stand and approach her. The fat cat is dangling from your hands as you present him like baby Simba. The lion cat sits at your feet, teeth bared in warning should Ingrid deny you.
"I love them!" You tell Ingrid earnestly," They're both cuddle sized and I love them a lot!"
"Cub," Ingrid says," They might be mean to Bagheera. You don't want Bagheera to feel sad, do you?"
"Actually," The damned shelter worker says," They're both perfectly good with other cats."
"Well..." Ingrid desperately tries to come up with another excuse.
"Mama," You say," Please?" Your eyes glisten with unshed tears as the fat cat mews pitifully at Ingrid.
She sighs.
"Cub, if I let you-"
"Mami! Mama's letting me keep them!" You tell Mapi triumphantly who gives you the biggest fake smile in the world.
"That's great, Cub!" She tells you before muttering under her breath to Ingrid," How could you let this happen?! The monster is going to kill me in my sleep! And the fat one is going to eat all our food!"
"How is this my fault?!" Ingrid hisses back, already reaching to take the paperwork," You're the one that left it up to me!"
"Because you're meant to be the strong one! We both know I would have caved much earlier! Why couldn't you be strong, Ingrid? Why?"
Ingrid signs her name on all of the papers and sighs. "Because she was about to cry and the monster looked like he was about to bite me."
Both of them turn to look at where you're still cuddling with the fat one. The monster is staring back at them, unblinking as it flicks its ear dismissively.
"Are we sure that's a cat?" Mapi checks," I think we should call the zoo."
"It might eat us before that..."
You seem happy though, a beaming smile on your face all the way home.
Both cats make themselves at home. The fat one finds Bagheera's usual sunspot and flops down. His whole body stretches out as he snoozes easily.
The monster immediately jumps onto the kitchen counters to survey his new kingdom and you dart around setting out the new bowls and toys before grinning at Ingrid and Mapi, who are awestruck at how brazen these new cats are.
Bagheera seems to be similarly shocked and a tad judgemental as she pokes her head out of her cat tree to stare.
"He is Garfield," You point at the fat one," Because he is round and cuddle sized." You point at the monster. "And that's León because he is my little lion."
In no way would Ingrid describe that cat as little.
Mapi, for the first time today, decides to be helpful. "You can't call him León," She says," That's our surname. He's León León."
You nod. "I know. It's a pretty name for a pretty lion."
Ingrid wouldn't describe him as pretty either.
"Garfield and León-León," You say with an air of finality," Mami, Mama, thank you for my kitties!"
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yanderenightmare · 8 months
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would love to hear any thoughts you have of what you think sukuna was like with a darling 1000 years ago, in the past before he became a curse
Ryomen Sukuna
TW: noncon, death of reader, fluff to angst
fem reader
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Back when you were both little, Sukuna was just a village clown – a little rascal old farmers would shout at after he’d set their farm animals loose, skipping down the dirt roads with a sun-swallowing grin as they chased him away with their cane in the air.
He was the one with the unruly hair, bruised hands, and scuffed knees who’d steal bread from the baker and set the temple on fire. The one everyone knew to suspect but who managed to slip away somehow, always scot-free.
And you were his little cheerleader. Always hiding your giggle behind two hands, knowing it wasn’t ladylike of you to encourage him.
But he’d pull shenanigans just to make you smile. Often acting scary, playing in the shadows before popping out with a roar, scaring all the other children around the campfire, and getting scolded by the teachers. He’d pout when put in a timeout, running away and pulling you by the wrist to keep him company while the whole village searched for the two of you long into the night.
He'd found a spot for just the two of you. A cavern behind a veil of green, with a crack in the ceiling that allowed the moon to spill in, just bright enough to still let Spiderlillies bloom. He'd make a small fire, and you’d play shadow puppets on the rock. You’d make pine people and play the villagers while he’d put bird skulls on his fingers and act as the village monster.
Your father didn’t approve of him. Especially as the two of you got older with marriage arrangements fast approaching. Like always, it was unladylike of you to run around with the boy who never seemed to grow up.
You’d always loved the same person, but it wasn’t up to you. And soon you’d been promised to someone else.
Sometimes, you wished Sukuna was just a bit different – or, at the least, that he’d act somewhat differently. Maybe then he’d been good enough for you in the eyes of others. In your heart of hearts, you can't help but think that he’s a little selfish for never having tried for your sake, but when he surprises you in the night with those devious eyes and that childish smirk upon his lips, you can never will yourself to say no – let alone keep yourself from smiling and leaping into his arms.
Even on your wedding day, you wondered if he’d come – if only to say one last goodbye. You even selfishly wondered if he’d apologize and tell you he’d wished he’d tried harder, fought, and insisted on being a man who truly deserved you – that he regrets he isn’t the one taking your hand.
But you were a fool.
Maybe it was best he hadn’t, you thought after sitting awhile – a silent tear rolling down your cheek. In your wedding robes with your heart breaking. The maids gush and think it’s just wedding jitters, and you allow them that understanding even though your wedding is the furthest thing from your mind.
Your mother tells you that you’re beautiful, and it’s but a small salve to your aching – but enough to make the tears stop. She wishes you good luck and leaves you with the maids.
It’s only a short moment later that you hear screams. Blood-curdling, dying wails – worse than anything you’d heard in your life.
You follow quickly and find the ceremony in a bloodbath. So many lightless eyes stare blankly toward nothingness, their fine-dressed bodies piled on top of each other on the floor, blood-soaked and ripped limb from limb.
There’s only one thing left standing. Splattered in red blotches and black markings you don’t recognize. It breathes like a beast but stands atop the carnage as though the kills were all for sport.
But somehow… despite the second eyes, you knew that face.
“Sukuna…”
He turned, and you saw the other side of him, a deformed mockery of his once so pretty face. His eyes had gone red, glowing like a wolf in the wild – four of them, you counted now. They all blinked at the same time when looking at you.
You flinched, looking back at the slaughter of your village. Breath shivering. “What have you done?”
 “I’ve ensured no one's left to stand between us- no one to take you away from me- no one to tell me I’m not good enough-”
That isn’t his voice. Those aren’t his words. This isn’t the man you know – not the one you love. Sukuna isn’t a murderer. This was… this was a demon.
You ran. Slipping in your drapes as you pushed yourself forward, heart in your throat with lungs bursting your ribcage. You make it out into the moonlight before he has you pinned in the dewy midnight grass.
He growls something, but you can’t hear it. There’s too much blood rushing past your ears, hot and deafening, as you shake your head – eyes squeezed tight while you claw and kick at the thing that has you pinned.
“Get away- don’t touch me-”
Two of his arms grab your wrists and push them down flat by your head. The other two grab your face – not entirely softly, but much softer than what you’d expect from a monster. 
“Are you gonna tell me I’m not good enough for you too?” His words waft onto your face, warm with the breath that feels so familiar – a taste you’ve swallowed so many times before. 
But it just can’t be him, you deny. “I don’t know you- I don’t know who you are-”
It angers him. His hands strengthen their hold, and you wince as he leans in closer with a sneer. “Sure you do. I’m that village pest you waste your precious time on. The one you can’t be caught with during the day.”
You shake your head again with a cry. “You lie. Sukuna wouldn’t do this. He’s not cruel- he’d never hurt me-”
“You hurt me!” He argues with a roar, cutting you off sharply.
There's a heavy pause.
His lips ghost yours with teeth, making you whimper caught beneath him before he continues kissing you with his words. “Whispering you love me during the night, with your hands and legs wrapped around me like a brazen little whore, before you go and marry someone else in the same fortnight. Who’s the cruel one?”
“It wasn’t my choice-” You deny then, finally acknowledging it’s him but still not daring to open your eyes.
“Tch-” He scoffs callously, bitterly disappointed and judging you just as viciously. “Is that how you console yourself?”
The hands he’d held your face with slipped down your neck, stroking your skin with streaks of wet blood and hot tears, traveling down the dip of your attire with fingers curling around the fabric before tearing it off you.
“Maybe you can seek refuge in that now, as well.”
You killed yourself that same night after he’d had his way with you.
You’ve been dead a thousand years now.
Every year, on the day of your death, he plants a Spiderlilly by his shrine to honor you. Sometimes, he gets the urge to rip them all up, but he just ends up shouting instead.
He can barely remember your smell, your warmth, your face, the size of your hand in his. But still, not remembering the exact feel of you just makes missing you all the more painful.
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goldenempyrean · 1 month
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Spring Showers
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〚 Notes - Hello! This was based off this: request! I was meant to post this yesterday I think but something came up. Hopefully this is enjoyable, honestly feels good to write again :) 〛
〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛
〚 Summary - When you’re sick, your day goes from bad to worse. A small car breakdown later and you find yourself unexpectedly bumping into Natasha. 〛
〚 Wordcount - 2681 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
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Waking up that fresh spring morning, you rolled over to snooze the alarm that had pulled you out of your slumber, hitting it lazily before letting gravity take control and send your arm flopping over the edge of the bed.
You groaned a little as it hit the edge of your bed, rubbing your elbow with an annoyed look as if somehow death-staring the metal frame would make up for it.
As you begrudgingly got out of bed, the chill of the early morning hit you, sending a shiver down your spine. You had to admit felt a bit off, today. Your head heavy and your throat scratchy but you ignored the signs of fatigue and finished getting dressed and ready for the day.
Nat was always one to be up and out early in the mornings. Running, training or sometimes even just reading, whatever it was, she was definitely up and ready for her day before sunrise. Early bird gets the worm? Well, the early widow gets her 90-minute workout in without being disturbed. She liked it that way.
Unfortunately, it meant you usually weren’t able to see her most days before heading out to work - the rare exception being when you were on a late shift and got a few extra hours at home before heading out.
You weren’t an Avenger like your girlfriend, instead you served the people of New York by working in the local hospital as the Chief Nurse in charge. It was a demanding job, but one you found incredibly rewarding.
The pouring rain grabbed back your wandering attention as you sat sleepily over your chosen bowl of cereal. You hadn’t really had an appetite but had forced a few bites down regardless before you lost interest. Checking your phone, you realised you needed to set off, so you grabbed your car keys and headed out the compound.
As you pulled into the hospital's parking lot, you mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead. You tried to clear your throat as you checked yourself over in the mirror, but it ended in you coughing raspily and sighing in defeat as you rubbed your throat. Maybe water would get rid of the soreness, you thought as you took a tentative sip from your bottle… nope, it still hurt. What a fun day this was going to be.
Whoever said being in charge was fun, was sorely mistaken. Throughout the morning, you found yourself raising your voice more often than usual to be heard over the cacophony of the emergency room. By midday, your voice had started to crack and strain, sending sharp pains down your throat with each word.
Eventually you resigned yourself to your office, sick (literally) of the mix of pitiful, disgusted and annoyed glances you were receiving from both residents and patients.
As you sat in your office, trying to soothe your aching throat and mustering the energy to tackle the mountain of paperwork on your desk, the hospital intercom made you jump as it crackled to life, urgently calling you to the ER.
You groaned but despite your muscle’s aching, your instincts kicked in, and you rushed out of your office towards the ER.
As you entered the chaotic room, your senses were assaulted by the echo of urgent voices and the sharp smell of antiseptic made your eyes water.
You had barely assessed the ongoing situation before a sudden sneeze erupted from you, surprising yourself with its volume. You’d quickly covered your mouth, but the damage was done. Several heads turned in your direction, eyebrows raised in concern.
Before you could even attempt to explain, your boss appeared, her expression a mix of concern and sternness. "What are you doing here, Y/N?" She asked, her tone indicating she already knew the answer.
You tried to muster a response, but your throat rebelled, emitting only a hoarse croak instead.
Your bosses' eyes softened slightly, an understanding look settling on her face. "You're ill," She stated matter-of-factly. "Go home, rest, and don't come back until you're fully recovered. We don’t need you starting an epidemic.”
Despite your protests, she ushered you out of the ER and back to your office to collect your belongings. She helped you collect your things, only stopping to hold a thermometer to your ear as she checked your temperature.
You thanked her hoarsely as she held open the door for you, “Seriously, I don’t want you back until 48 hours after that fever breaks.” She warned with a stern tone but the gentle pat on your back made it obvious she was just worried that’s all.
As you stepped out of the hospital, the chilly rain immediately soaked through your clothes, sending shivers down your spine. You dropped your keys twice as you fumbled to unlock your car, finally flopping down behind the wheel with an drained sigh - a sigh which your crackling lungs despised, reprimanding you in the form of a burning cough.
As you drove home, the rain beat relentlessly against the windshield, blurring the already dimly lit road ahead. Each cough sent a sharp pang through your chest, and your vision blurred with exhaustion. You tried to focus on driving safely, your mind drifting to the warmth of your bed and girlfriend waiting for you at home. Not long now…
But just as you approached a traffic light, your car sputtered, the engine emitting a series of ominous noises before finally giving out with a pathetic wheeze. Panic seized you as you coasted to the side of the road, hazard lights flashing weakly in the rain.
You tried to restart the engine, but it only responded with a feeble groan before falling silent again.
“Oh you piece of shit!” You slammed your hand on the wheel as the car’s engine light flickered an angry red, “Stupid, fucking-“ An awful cough broke off your curse, your grip on the wheel turning white as your lungs burned.
After you caught your breath, you leaned back in your seat, feeling utterly defeated. Each raindrop seemed to mock your predicament, drumming against the windshield like a cruel taunt. With a heavy heart and a pounding headache you pulled out your phone - fighting back exhausted tears as you saw the critical low battery warning flash up on the screen.
You didn’t know the number of any breakdown services or anyone that could really be of help. The most you were able to do was to text Tony to ask him to help you move your car tomorrow. He had always been quick to respond so you found your spirits lifting just an inch higher when he agreed. However, those spirits were surely crushed when you opened up the Uber app on your phone only for the screen to turn black, taunting you with the picture of an empty battery.
“For fucks sake!”
There was nothing more you could do. You’d just have to walk. Nobody was coming to save you. You were a grown girl. You can look after yourself. There was a grocery store just down this road, maybe 10 minutes or so. You’d be able to stop there, rest, maybe pick up a few supplies. There’d be a phone there too, you’d be able to call someone to pick you up.
As you trudged through the rain, each step heavier than the last, you had to practically drag yourself down the street as your congested lungs begged for air. It was hard for see through the constant rain; the whistling of the wind made your ears throb. The chill of your soaked clothes clung tightly to your skin, and the coughing fits continued to rack your exhausted body until finally you’d made it.
You didn’t wait any longer before heading inside. The bright fluoresce of the lights made your eyes sting a little but this was miles better compared to being outside getting battered by the rain.
With each stumbling step, you grabbed a basket make your way to find some medicine. You just wanted something to make you feel better, just anything that would put an end to your awful day.
Maybe you should get some actual groceries whilst you where did. It wouldn’t hurt to stock up the cupboards a little, you might as well consider you were here.
Little did you know your girlfriend was already one step ahead of you.
Natasha’s eyes widened a little as she strolled down the aisle, pushing along half a cart of groceries as she hummed. Y/N? What were you doing here? This was a pleasant surprise and she kept quiet as she snuck up to you.
“Hey bub.” Her warm voice murmured, and you felt familiar arms wrap around the front of your waist. Natasha’s head came to rest on your shoulder as she nosied at what you were looking at, “I thought we agreed that I’d be doing groceries this week.” She purred, kissing the side of your neck sweetly.
You shrugged through gritted teeth, your damp clothes crinkling uncomfortably, “I just needed something.”
“Hold on.” Her brow crinkled just a little, “I thought you had work?” She paused, her face shifting slightly as she realised just how soaked you were. This was not the kind of damp someone got just walking from the car to the entrance. You were drenched! “God, you’re soaked Y/N! Where on earth have you been? Did you walk here?!”
Your eyes cast to the floor. You’d forgotten that it was usually the day that the two of you had gone grocery shopping. Of course, it hadn’t even occurred to you that Nat might’ve been in the store.
“I may have got a little damp.” You sniffled thickly, trying to keep your tone neutral but the painful rasp in your voice instantly gave yourself away, “…and my car may or may not have broken down coming back from work.”
Natasha's concern deepened as she noticed your raspy voice. "Oh, sweetheart, you should have called me. I would've come to pick you up." Her voice softened, filled with genuine worry. Her grip tightened around you a little. “You're not just ‘damp’, you're practically drenched and- oh, what’s this?” Her eyes glanced down, noticing the theme of items in your own basket.
She had just about to ask you about them, but her question was answered when you ducked into your elbow with two forceful sounding sneezes barely seconds later.
“Double bless you!” Her tone shifted instantly to one of comfort, “Guess I don’t need to ask why your voice is so hoarse and you’re buying meds then, hm?” She cooed and you turned around with a pout, letting your head fall onto her shoulder as you wrapped your arms around her.
“You’re not feeling well.” It wasn’t a question, she just looked at you, looking deep into your weary eyes as she continued to hold you, “How long?”
You let out a small cough into her shoulder, “This morning. Got worse at work, got sent home which was beyond embarrassing.” Your croaking voice mumbled in defeat as Nat’s hand came to soothingly rub your back.
“I’m so tired and achy.” You continued, grumbling softly, finally feeling the weight of the day begin to let up as Nat continued to hold you in the moment, “My throat’s been so bad all day and I’ve had to constantly yell at people to do their jobs properly because apparently they’re all incompetent idiots that don’t know their elbows from their arse!”
Natasha couldn’t help but laugh a little at your choice of words but quickly shut up when you shot her a glare - of course the glare had been in no way intimidating with your sleepy eyes and runny nose, but she got the hint regardless.
“Sounds rough sunshine.” She murmured, sympathetically rubbing your back before the two of you began to walk towards another aisle, “Let me get those for you, oh and the car?” She asked, realising you hadn’t explained.
Nat took the basket from your hand and put it in her cart despite your objections, “It just decided to give up on me, right in the middle of driving home. I text Tony and he said he’d get it moved tomorrow but then my phone died before I could call an uber so I had to walk the way back.” You coughed harshly as you explained what had happened, rubbing your throat with a whine.
“That’s some awful luck sweetheart, I’m sorry. How about we get you a few things and just spend the rest of the day being warm and cosy?” Nat offered as a pulled a stuffed animal from the shelf, nuzzling it against your cheek before putting it into the cart.
Your face lightened up a little and you found yourself keeping a little closer to her as the pair of you continued through the store, “You wanna get some ice cream for that poor throat of yours sweet girl?” She asked, but of course she already what the answer would be.
As you nodded eagerly, Natasha smiled, glad to see a hint of brightness returning to your expression. She led you to the freezer section, picking out your favourite flavour without hesitation. "Here we go," she said, placing it gently in the cart beside you. "Oh, and we should get some tea as well, all we have is that herbal stuff Wanda likes but it’s kinda bitter, you’ll feel better with something sweeter. I think.”
She kept her hand softly holding your own you both headed over to find the tea - occasionally pausing as Nat picked up some of the general groceries you needed but it was hard to miss how she kept adding in small treats for you along the way, your favourite drink, snacks she even chose your favourite scent of laundry detergent.
Eventually your fever raging brain felt too fuzzy to keep paying attention, so you switched off, trusting her enough to let her lead you along without asking questions.
Her voice seemed to echo and your vision blur before a hand cupping your cheek brought you back to reality. “Hey, earth to Y/N.” Natasha repeated herself, “You dazed out for a second there sweetie. Did you hear what I said?”
“Uh, no, sorry.” You answered sheepishly, warm embarrassment creeping up into your cheeks.
But Nat only smiled at you, her warm gaze making you relax, “I asked what tea you’d like baby.”
You nodded and turned to look over the assortment of boxes. You weren’t much of a tea person, in fact you never really drank it at all unless you were sick and Nat was definitely more of a coffee girl, herself. As you looked over the selection, a sudden sneeze caught you off guard, you stumbled back a little and bumped into Nat which made your girlfriend shake her head fondly as you sniffled in surprise.
“Bless you again. Looks like we’ll need some more tissues," She deducted, kissing your cheek swiftly before jogging back to the previous aisle, quickly returning with a few extra boxes and added them to the cart.
"You poor thing," Nat said sympathetically, as she opened one of the boxes in the cart and handing you a tissue. "Here, blow your nose love.”
“Thanks.”
“Berry-Bliss?” She read the name of the tea you’d chosen, after you’d finished blowing nose. “Is that one the kind you want?”
You shrugged sluggishly, biting back a groan as your muscles ached, “I’ll give it a try.”
“Worth a try.” She agreed, taking the box from you, not missing the chance to kiss your forehead as she did so. “You’re really warm baby. How about we pay up and get you back home sweetheart? I know you’re exhausted.”
As she suggested heading home, you nodded gratefully, taking her hand and letting her lead you towards the check outs. It wouldn’t take long to pay and get home but when you did, you knew you were in for an evening of cuddling and love.
Who could ask for more?
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worldlxvlys · 11 days
Text
running
part seven of the CRUSH series
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bsf! matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of sex
a/n -> read the previous part for context !!
ever since the day he apologized, matt had been acting weird. there was a very obvious tension between us, but neither of us said anything about it. his brothers on the other hand, were quick to point it out.
“ok, what’s up with you two? did you fuck again, or something?” chris asked, earning a quick hit and an incredulous look from nick. matt just rolled his eyes, answering with a brief “no”, before turning in the direction he came from.
he was distant and quicker to anger than he usually was. it seemed like the smallest things set him off, he was just so mad. his recent attitude has made me quite distant myself because being around him wasn’t very enjoyable.
he had his moments where he seemed like his usual self, but for the most part, he was miserable. of course i was aware that this was partially my fault, as right after our conversation about the night we slept together his entire demeanor changed.
i felt terrible, and i wanted nothing more than to help him feel better. but i tried to figure out what was wrong, and he just pushed me away. i wanted to be there for him, but he was a grown man at the end of the day. if i did or said something to upset him, he needed to communicate what that was.
so for the past week, we didn’t hang out unless it was with his brothers. we barely spoke two words to each other, and he couldn’t even look at me on the rare occasion that we did. i tried not to let it get to me, but he was supposed to be my best friend. now he couldn’t even be around me ?
MATT’S POV
just when i think i can’t possibly make things worse than they already are, i prove myself wrong. i somehow managed to completely drive y/n away, and now i couldn’t even look at her.
every time i saw her, i felt the shame and guilt eat away at me. i’ve treated her terribly for the past week, and now she couldn’t stand being around me.
at first i just wanted a little bit of distance, because i knew that the second i felt her soft fingers on my face or watched her plump lips pull into a smile, i would be gone. she’s constantly running through my thoughts, and i have no way of stopping it.
every day chris made these sly comments about how i should make a move on her before someone else did, and that pissed me off. his words constantly rang through my ears, and it made me paranoid.
every time she smiled at her phone and typed away at her screen, which was happening a lot more often recently, i got more and more annoyed. i did my best to push it down and ignore it, but it always seemed to make things worse.
whether she was talking to someone or not, she was growing more and more distant by the day. i found myself missing her when she was in the same room as me, which made me realize just how bad i let the situation get.
i decided to go over to her house to talk to her, knowing i had to clear the air. and that’s how i ended up here, standing at her doorstep anxiously, trying to gain the confidence to knock.
before i could force myself to do it, her door swung open. i must’ve looked like a deer in headlights, my eyes widened as she caught me off guard. she let out a chuckle at that, “i saw you on the doorbell camera, i thought i’d just make this easier for you”
well that’s embarrassing. “you saw that whole thing?” i asked, hoping it wasn’t true. when she nodded her head in response, i closed my eyes shaking my head slightly as i cursed myself. “it’s ok, matt. it was cute” she spoke, a small smile on her face.
i felt my face heat up while i prayed she didn’t notice the deep shade of red that my face turned at the comment. “come on” she motioned to the inside of her house, choosing not to comment on my flustered state.
READER’S POV
when i moved to the side to let matt in, i caught sight of a small paper bag in his hand while he passed me. he led the way to my room, pushing my door open and making himself comfortable on my bed.
“i was thinking we do a movie night?” he asked hopefully, emptying the bag of its contents; an array of different candies, snacks, and a drink for each of us.
whenever matt and i had a disagreement, our way of calling a truce was to have a movie night. we would take the time to talk it out and end off the night with cuddles and a movie.
“sounds perfect” i told him, grabbing the remote and moving to sit across from him. i passed him the remote when i felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. i pulled it out, opening it to see a text from the guy i’ve been talking to for the past week.
dylan 🤠
hey beautiful ;)
what are you up to ??
y/n ⭐️
abt to watch a movie with matt !!
“what movie should we watch?” matt asked, but i was barely able to register his words as i read the next text.
dylan 🤠
matt is your best friend right ?? i thought he wasn’t talking to you ??
y/n ⭐️
yeah movie nights are kinda like our way of calling a truce yk ??
dylan 🤠
ohhh i get u
y/n ⭐️
wbu ??
dylan 🤠
oh yk just texting this girl rn
a lil nervous tho ngl, she’s drop dead gorgeous
wayyyy out of my league
“hellooo? you gonna sit there and text all night or are we ever gonna talk?” matt’s annoyed voice pulled my attention away from my phone.
“hold on, i’m talking to someone right now. just give me a sec” i spoke, looking back down to my phone.
y/n ⭐️
who could you possibly be talking about 🤨
dylan 🤠
your mom :)
y/n ⭐️
that wasn’t funny
dylan 🤠
i laughed
y/n ⭐️
well that makes one of us
i watched as the three dots moved on the screen, before my phone was roughly pulled out of my hand. “what the fuck, matt ? give it back” i yelled as he moved it out of my reach.
i quickly moved over to him, climbing over his body to reach for the phone. he was quick to throw my phone onto my carpeted floor, grabbing my wrists before i could move to get it.
“who was that?” he asked, looking up at me. “none of your damn business” i answered. “considering you’re too busy looking down at your phone to talk to me, i’d say it is”
i let out a dry chuckle at that, “now you wanna talk ? that’s new. usually you just bottle up your feelings and throw a hissy fit instead of telling me what the issue is” i spoke, glaring down at him. my phone vibrated on its spot in the floor, but i ignored it.
“why are you trying to pick a fight?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. “i’m not, this is what it looks like when you act like an adult and talk about things. i know that might be a little foreign to you” i jeered, his face dropping at the comment.
when i heard my phone vibrate again, i went to go pick it up, but was stopped as matt’s hands gripped onto my waist firmly, pulling me down onto his lap.
“look, i obviously hurt you and i’m really sorry for that-” he started, stopping as my phone continued to vibrate on the floor. “who the hell is blowing up your phone like that?” he started, starting to become annoyed again.
“it’s no one” i answered.
“who is it?” he posed his words as a question, but it sounded more like an order.
“nobody”
“why are you lying?” he asked, receiving a sigh from me. he just wasn’t gonna let it go.
“it’s just this guy i’m talking to” i answered. before i could even process what was happening, matt had flipped us over so that he was the one one top.
“what’s his name?” matt asked, his hands tightly clenching the sheets on either side of my head. my eyes trailed down to his tatted arm, watching as it flexed when he shifted his weight onto it.
“his name doesn’t matter” i answered, willing myself to look anywhere but at his lips. it was tempting, the short distance between us making it hard to focus on anything else.
“is there anything you can tell me about him?” matt asked.
“yeah. he’s not confused.” i answered without thinking, the words slipping out before i could stop them. “he’s made his feelings for me clear” i finished.
“his feelings? he’s only known you for…what, a week?” he asked, tilting his head at me. “he knows what he wants matt” i shrugged, “do you?” i asked.
the question seemed to catch him off guard, as he didn’t utter a word. instead, his eyes dropped down to my lips for a split second, jumping back to my own eyes quickly.
“don’t do that” i stopped him, “don’t look at me like you want to kiss me. we both know you don’t” i told him, turning my head away from him.
he was quick to place his hand on my cheek, moving my face so i was looking at him while he spoke. “why would you think that?” he asked, his eyes softening.
“why would you keep running away from me if you did?” i asked, trying my best not to show how hurt i actually was. i blinked back the tears i felt beginning to form, taking a deep breath.
matt picked up on my shift in mood, immediately moving to sit next to me. “fuck, i’m sorry. i’m sorry” he whispered repeatedly, pulling me into a hug. “it’s not on purpose, i swear. and it’s definitely not your fault, the last thing i ever wanted was to hurt you” i cried silently in his arms, his hands squeezing my waist tightly.
he pulled away to look at me, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. “is there something wrong with me?” i asked, needing an answer to the question i’d been asking myself constantly throughout the week. why? why was he avoiding me like the plague? what did i do to deserve this?
“of course not. this is my fault, it’s not you. i’m just confused and i have no clue what to do. i don’t know what i want, and i didn’t know how to deal with-” he stopped abruptly, like he was about to slip up and say something he didn’t want me to hear.
“i just didn’t want to hurt you while i was figuring out my shit, so i distanced myself from you. i know it was wrong, but i didn’t know what to do. and then i realized you were talking to someone and it just made me so mad, but i shouldn’t have taken it out on you”
“you’re jealous? matt, it’s not like he’s replacing you. he’s just a new friend” i pointed out. “i’m right here, i’m still your best friend. and you can always talk to me about anything. you know that, right?” i asked.
“yeah, i know. but are you sure you’re just friends? you said he has feelings for you” matt spoke, looking down as he spoke the last sentence. “is he the only one?” i asked bluntly, tired of beating around the bush.
matt’s head snapped up at the call-out, his lips turning upwards into a small smile. “i-” he was cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket. he looked like he wanted to continue, but i stopped him, “just answer it, it’s ok” i nodded to him, watching him pull it out.
“it’s chris” he sighed out, before hitting the answer button. while he spoke to chris, i heard my own phone vibrate on the ground. i glanced over to matt, who was fully engrossed in his conversation, before grabbing it off of the floor.
i opened it to several unopened texts from dylan, but the last one is what stood out to me;
dylan 🤠
hey, you home? i’m at your door ;)
what the fuck? he knew i was home, i told him that matt and i were having a movie night.
i glanced over to matt, as he hung up the phone. “he was just asking if i wanted anything from target” he informed me, putting his phone down.
he noticed my widened eyes, his face filling with concern, “what’s wrong?” he asked, walking towards me and placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“um, my….uh-” i was cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing. “here, i’ll get it for you” he spoke, walking out of the room before i could stop him.
“wait, matt-” i started, a few feet behind him. by the time i caught up to him, the door was already open, matt and dylan were face-to-face with each other.
“hey, i’m dylan. you must be matt” he almost seemed amused at matt’s confused face.
“hey, baby” he spoke to me, earning a cold stare from matt as he realized who the man in front of him was. his jaw was clenched tightly as he turned his gaze to me, his eyebrows raised.
shit.
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hehehe
masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris
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katelynnwrites · 13 days
Text
Honigbiene's Bee Machine | Laura Freigang x Child!Reader
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warnings: asthma attack
word count: 1143
summary: you are diagnosed with asthma
a/n: part of Laura's Honigbiene
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Laura thinks it’s funny how much you love flowers.
Exactly like your namesake, honeybee.
You love touching them and feeling the petals between your fingers. You love plucking them and bringing them home, where your Mama lets you keep them in mason jars of water.
Every time your Mama takes you on walks to the park or anywhere else really, you come home with flowers.
From bushes, the football field and even cracks in the sidewalk, you pick them up.
After you learn colours at school, you like naming the colours of your flowers to Mama. Just in case she didn’t have a teacher to teach her.
White are the ones that grow where Mama and Tantes kick a ball around and yellow are the ones that grow right outside your home.
Sometimes your Mama asks if you have a favourite but you don’t. You love them all equally and you tell her as such. Mama always laughs and kisses your forehead, saying that you’re adorable.
You don’t really understand what she means by it but you love her anyway. You love her more than you love your flowers because she is the best.
Mama cuddles you a lot and lets you sleep in her big bed all the time even though you are not a baby and have your own big girl bed.
She’s also patient, giving you all the time you want when you stop to look at each and every flower you see, on the way to the playground.
You think Mama is your best friend.
She’s got her watchful eyes on you now as you head off towards the first patch of flowers you see.
They are a bright pink and so pretty that you run to get there faster.
Mama is always reminding you to be careful and use your walking feet but you’re just so excited that you can’t help it.
It has happened before, with your Mama often chiding you gently and warning that you could fall.
That has never happened before but it seems like today is the day your luck runs out.
Laura knows it's going to happen before you do but there is nothing she can do as you somehow trip and fall face first into the flowers you had been so looking forward to seeing.
She’s at your side, lifting you out of them before you have a chance to cry.
‘Oh Honigbiene.’ She murmurs soothingly.
‘Mama.’ You whimper and she hugs you close.
‘Mama.’ You whine again because something doesn’t feel good.
There is an odd feeling in your chest, like the one you sometimes get after running a lot but so much worse.
‘It’s okay.’ Your Mama coos, rubbing your back soothingly.
You cough loudly, startling Mama enough that she draws back to look you over.
You cough again. Then again and again and again.
‘Hurts Mama.’ You cry, beginning to get scared.
You’re breathing faster and faster, trembling slightly in front of your Mama who is quickly realising that something is very wrong.
She forces calm into her voice, in an attempt to keep you calm, ‘Honigbiene take a deep breath. Nice and slow.’
With tears streaming down your face, you shake your head, trying to tell her that you can’t.
‘Yes you can. Try baby try.’ Mama pleads.
You attempt to suck in a breath but you’re only able to manage a shaky wheeze.
If your Mama wasn’t panicked before, she sure is now.
‘Keep trying Honigbiene.’ She urges as she dials for an ambulance.
She’s talking very fast but the ick in your chest gets bigger.
‘Mama.’ You choke out, whimpering when she drops her phone to hold you.
‘The ambulance is coming. You’ve just got to hang on a little bit longer, okay Honigbiene?’
Mama gets you to sit down as she rubs your back in hopes that it will help.
Still, the ambulance can’t come soon enough.
By the time it arrives, you are pale and breathless, your heart beating fast as a result of the lack of oxygen and how terrified you are.
The people that come out of it slip a mask onto your face and then one of them, a nice woman explains to you that it will help you breathe.
Like your Mama, she tells you to take deep breaths.
Then Mama carries you into the ambulance where you lay down on a small bed inside. She softly tells you that you’re going to the hospital where lots of nice people will look after you.
Your Mama promises that you’ll be okay and you believe her because she had never lied to you before.
The funny mask helps you feel better but your chest still hurts and you’re coughing a lot.
If you weren’t so distracted by how sick you feel, the sound of the ambulance sirens would have made you excited.
As it is, you whimper to Mama until you get to the hospital.
Then a doctor checks you over and gives you another funny mask.
This one has white smoke and when you take deep breaths in, helps you to breathe properly again.
The ick that hurts your chest goes away and you happily sit in your Mama’s lap to finish taking the big slow breaths that the doctor asks you take.
Your new mask is connected to a machine that hums.
‘Just like a bee!’ You tell Mama.
‘Yes. Just like a bee.’ She murmurs, hugging you tightly.
Mama does not let you go even when the doctor comes back in to talk to her, using big words you don’t understand.
He gets you to blow into a big tube a lot and stares at a screen with lots of squiggly lines and numbers on it.
You don’t understand what he’s doing but when he’s done, you get to go home with the humming machine.
‘I like my Bee Machine.’ You say to your Mama as she sets it by the big bed at bedtime.
Mama laughs, ‘Is that what we’re calling it?’
She tucks you under the covers with one of the honeybees Tante Klara crocheted for you.
‘I like your Bee Machine too. It’s going to help you and that is very important. You are very important to me and I love you so much, Honigbiene.’
‘Love you too Mama.’ You whisper and she gives you a goodnight kiss on your forehead before tucking herself under the covers.
You might be getting bigger but Laura thinks that you’ll never be too big to stop fitting in her arms.
As long as you want her to, she’ll let you sleep in her bed and hold you till you fall asleep.
With how much your newly diagnosed asthma scared her today, she holds you long after you’ve fallen asleep.
Even when she falls asleep, she’s holding you close.
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German Translation:
Honigbiene - Honeybee
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jackiepackiee · 2 months
Note
chuuya x fem reader where they cuddle n stuff and it's cute
𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝓊𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈
𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 - 𝓃𝑜, 𝑜𝒷𝓋𝒾
𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎
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Today’s shift was longer than expected for the both of you. Missions of gun fire and explosions of buildings that may or may not have been abandoned. Meetings with Mori about recent developments in companies that fronted the port mafia.
Like always, you and Chuuya saw each other at least once. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a shared lunch or some quality time in his office. Instead, it was you running down the hall to Mori with important information while he was strolling out the office.
He… well he missed you the entire day. And it only got worse… he had to do Akutugawas paperwork since he had gotten injured!
So, he texted you about an hour before end of shift.
Chuu <3
“Hey love, gonna be home a bit later tonight. Don’t worry about dinner, I know I won’t be hungry so late.”
Safe to say, your car ride home was lonely. The chauffeur even asking “Where is Mr. Nakahara?” When you entered alone.
You sighed, back against the leather and sank into a state of silence.
Feet in pain from missions, wrists cracking from the amount of writing. Your hair was probably a mess, lipstick on your collar from when you tugged at your shirt.
The car was smooth, luckily. A bump would’ve made your head spin.
You wanted two things. Chuuya, and your bed.
So when you finally unlocked that penthouse door, you practically flung off your shoes. Hoping you didn’t hit anything of importance.
First it was your belt, then your bottoms, than your top. At last your bra was off and you stumbled into the bedroom. A trail of discarded clothes behind you.
Instead of scavenging through your closet, you walked into Chuuya’s side.
It was mostly suits and buttons up, but a section was reserved for comfy clothes.
Picking out a simple t shirt he’d were on casual days, you put it on. Probably backwards, but that didn’t matter.
It still smelled like him, warm and safe.
You crashed into bed after turning off the house lights. Forgetting to close the curtains, the city neon illuminated the room blue, pink, green, and red.
Somehow, somewhere, you drifted off.
It wasn’t until you heard the creak of the bedroom door you woke up again.
Sky still as dark as space, neon still piercing your vision.
“Sweetheart… thank fucking god you’re home too.”
He didn’t bother to put on new clothes. The way you saw him was shirtless in some boxers. And god, if you weren’t so tired…
Never mind
He flipped back his hair before sitting in bed.
You pulled yourself closer to him, arms around his waist with your head on his lap.
“Missed you, princess.”
His heartbeat slowed, and his body calmed.
He slowly pet your head, running his hand to your cheek and using his thumb to draw circles.
He giggled, randomly to you.
“What?”
“Your shirt is backwards.”
Damn it, you knew it!
“Can I hold you? Not like this, but fully.”
All it took was your nod for him to hoist you up into his arms and maneuver you both into a laying position.
Your head on his chest, his arms around your waist.
This was a much easier way to hear his heartbeat. And gosh, was it relaxing.
Between the moments, your breathing synced. He kissed your forehead in the quiet.
So high up, no city sound was heard.
Then, he began to hum. A song that sounded to far away, but you could feel the rumble of his chest.
Each note making a different feeling in his skin to your head.
It was mindless, something he must’ve heard on the radio.
“I’ve missed this, I’m so happy you’re awake.”
He didn’t mind your silence, in fact he barely noticed it. His eyes were so focused on you, he likely would’ve seen lips moving without hearing them.
He was memorized.
Tired eyes covered by orange hair, and droopy eyelids from the exhausting life of Chuuya Nakahara.
But every night was a little easier with you around.
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twst-drabbles · 3 months
Text
Malleus 15
Summary: A way home was finally found a year after you rejected Malleus's advances. Once you got home and were settled in, an invitation made it's way to you, written to you by Malleus Draconia, King of Briar Valley. How many years have passed?
(I've been on an odd writing spree, but for my original writings. It's weird, but I'll take it! Anyways, have a what-if situation of a King Malleus still yearning for the Prefect! Might continue it if people are interested enough in this what-if scenario.)
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"Then would it be possible," Malleus reaching out to you as you faced the star-filled sky, "for you and I to share in each others lives?"
…and so the day finally came. When Malleus would gather up his courage and confess in the way all faeries do, in sentences layered over passionate feelings.
Honestly, the thought of being in a relationship with Malleus didn't sound all that bad. He's a sweet man, if a bit air headed with how easily lost in.
You do feel bad, honestly, for the fact that your feelings never ran deeper than general interest. You don't yearn for him, you can't. Especially not when you know that he's a prince. If you want to love him properly, if you want to build upon this general interest, you'd have to accept that specific part of him.
However, when you imagine the future laying before you, you see that it has nothing to do royalty.
Malleus has done nothing wrong. It's just unfortunate that he's a prince. His future was simply not one that will mesh well with your own.
"My life in my own," you said, "I don't intent to share it anymore than I already have. I'm… simply not interested."
You knew him too well. You can't pretend to be ignorant and go through hoops just to convince yourself that surely he didn't mean that, that he meant something different and that it's all platonic. Because, to you, that's just an excuse to not be blunt and say no. To avoid hurting the other party.
But avoiding what needs to be said is worse.
So, you had to reject him and leave it at that. You didn't like hurting him, but you also can't delude yourself and think that everything will somehow work out, especially since your feelings don't match his own.
Malleus didn't push and you didn't make him leave. And so you both stayed, continuing on as you always have, two people with positions too unique to truly be ignored.
The day came that you would leave. You said your goodbyes, you had your parties and feasts, and when all was said and done, you were relieved to be leaving. To finally go back home.
You waved to them all, to all the people you've met along the way, and passed through the mirror without a second glance back.
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Time barely passed by when you got home. So little time, in fact, that your phone was still near to full battery. Dust didn't collect on your bed or dining table like you expected, and there wasn't a single voice message or text asking about your whereabouts.
It's as if you didn't vanish at all. Well, to be fair, you weren't the kind of person to keep in constant or close touch with anyone. You liked your alone time a little more than the average person, but it wasn't anything to make you feel guilty over.
In fact, you're relieved, that only a minimal amount of time has escaped you. You didn't have to go home to frantic worries, to people getting angry out of concern for your sudden disappearance. Everything was calm and level. It was easy enough to go back to the routine you had before.
You missed this, you will admit that. You missed the air and scent of your bed, the grocery store and all its busy chatting, the scent of baked or fried snacks surrounding the local flea market, and even the way the wind flows through the trees. Sure sure, the land you were previously in had all these things, but they weren't yours if that made sense.
Honestly, after a while, you were almost convinced that everything that went on back in Night Raven College was just a dream. If only because, like a dream, you can really only enter and exit such places once.
But then an invitation entered your hand.
Addressed to you, handwritten in such a way that can only be taught in professional calligraphy classes. It tells of a tour around the gardens in the abode of the King of Briar Valley.
King, huh? Has that much time really passed? Putting that aside for a moment, you can't say you were shocked that, out of all people to be able to send a letter right to you, you would place your bets on Malleus.
That being said, you couldn't say no. It's been a while but you're familiar with Malleus's language. A simple tour just for the sake of a tour? No, that's not it at all. He probably misses you. And, to an extent, you miss being over there. A visit is probably due right about now.
And, if things go the same way as they did last time, you'll be gone then back in the blink of an eye.
So, you wrote your reply and placed in on the nearest full body mirror.
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You probably should've practiced your landing when it comes to mirror traveling. You fell right through, though you were lucky enough to grab the edge of the mirror before you could crack your knees.
Immediately, you were hit with the scent of cold and old magic, that sharp scent, not quite ozone, less metallic than that, less chemical-like than that. It was neutral magic, subdued in smell but overpowering enough to fill your sense anyway.
It's been a hot minute since you've been here. You're not quite to magic anymore, and you couldn't help but start coughing and clearing your throat.
Then, you were practically washed away with the smell of fresh rosemary.
"You…" And, as you expected, his voice stayed the same, and yet you can hear it, that small bit of quivering, as though he can't believe what's before him. "So, the invitation did make its way towards you, dear Child of Man. Are you alright? Are you sick?"
You held out your hand and coughed into your hand, trying to get this weird stickiness out.
"I'm, ugh, I'm fine, Hornton," Ah, should you really be calling him that now that he's king, apparently? Ah, who cares, you're the guest, you can be forgiven. "It's been a bit. Not all that used to magic anymore, is all."
And then, you looked up. Before, you wouldn't say his horns were malleable or soft, but there is a difference to them. Their color has darkened, and there these silver decorations about them that made those horns seem longer than they actually are.
There was a laugh. "Are my horns truly such a marvel? Well, if you so ask, I won't mind you touching them, if only to prove to you that they are no mere illusion."
"No, I'm good on that front," you sighed then finally looked to Malleus's face. "Huh. You look… older."
Older, and that's honestly kind of concerning for you. He isn't aged, not in the same way you've felt around Lilia. Yes yes, Lilia has a youthful face to him, but after a while, you can't help but notice the little things that betray his true age. Much like now, where you can see the slightest dips in his eyes, near his mouth.
Like most fae, they seem forever young, but the signs don't skip anyone no matter long they stay alive.
The fact is, enough time has passed that Malleus visibly aged.
Malleus, in all his kingly regalia, closed his eyes and took a deep breathe in. "It hasn't been that long. How many years…twenty? Perhaps thirty or less? Ah but, that's an age for children of men, isn't it? And yet, time hasn't so much as glanced at you. You look just the same as I remember, perhaps more youthful. But, that aside, I'm glad to know that this invitation made it you, before life has left your body."
…thirty years? Thirty years? So, time really does pass by differently in your home, huh? That's… you don't know what to think, honestly. Awful? Interesting? It certainly doesn't feel good.
"That long? How much did I miss?" Were there reunions? Letters written to you but could never be sent? And how is everyone else doing with their lives? Are they still alive? Did someone die an early death potentially? And what about families? Did they start some?
…ugh, you hate this feeling. You only have theories and questions and already you're feeling left out from it all.
Well, all you can do is take it one step at a time. Get to know what has happened, and move forward from there. You have no choice but to do so.
Malleus placed a gloved hand on his chin. "…it would take too much time to say right now. Perhaps I'll tell you all that I know as I walk you around the garden? You did accept the invitation, did you not?"
Your mind wasn't quite here, so you just nodded with a, "Right, right."
"Then," Malleus turned, his hair much longer now, perfectly groomed without a knot in there, "shall we be off?"
And you followed, feeling a bit awkward in the fact you were just wearing casual wear.
"…is that lipstick you're wearing, Hornton?" Probably not what you should be focusing on, but you couldn't help but notice. You're more used to his pallid lips than that luscious color.
"Hmm? Why, yes. It was shade recommended to me by one of my servants. If I remember right, this was something crafted by Schoenheit."
"Oh, so his stuff's world famous now, I take it?"
"World famous? Hmm, not quite sure what that entails, but the influence has made its place here. So, influential enough. Does it look odd on me?"
"Don't worry, it looks nice."
194 notes · View notes
phyrestartr · 7 months
Text
The Intern [2] | Miguel O'hara x M!Reader
#NSFW, Age Gap (mid 20s and mid 30s), reader's a homewrecker, Miguel's a cheater, mentions of toxic marriage, male!reader, bussy loading, porn with feelings, Miguel's a bit of a dickhead, top Miguel (for now), bottom reader (for now), blowjob, reader gets lectured and likes it, reader has daddy issues
Note: heheheheh
-- The Intern --
[ How it Started: 1/2 ] [2/2]
Miguel had to admit, he was surprised–he didn’t expect you to carry on like nothing happened.
Most people he’d fucked around with in the past, be it in school or during his tenacious dating life, would stomp their feet and quit whatever club, sport, or job they’d joined just to get close to Miguel, just to get a shot with him. He couldn’t blame them. He saw himself as a pretty good-looking guy, a smart man, one that took care of himself and could turn on the charm without even trying; he got what he wanted more often than not, and that included the people who threw themselves at him. He always wondered why they thought they’d somehow cement themselves into his life after just one night. 
But then there was you. You, who still sat with Gabi when you had the time. You, who still helped her with her homework, who still listened to her long-winded rants about whatever movie she obsessed over that week, who still got the shy little thing to talk and smile and laugh. It made something weird and thick weigh down Miguel’s chest, like molasses found a way to suffocate him from the outside. Maybe you didn’t deserve to be fucked and forgotten like the rest. 
And he found you there, still, on a day where Gabi was busy with a playdate at the Parker’s household. Maybe this was the best chance he’d get to talk to you again. 
“Alone, huh?” Miguel asked before sitting across from you, a cup of coffee warming his hands. “Kinda sad.”
You sighed and looked out the window, filled to the brim with drama. “You’re tellin’ me. I got abandoned by a kid. This is worse than bein’ stood up, let me tell ya.” 
Yikes. Was what Miguel did the same as standing you up? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to think about it too much. 
"Right, right." Miguel cleared his throat and leaned in a little. "About the other night–" 
"What?" You asked, looking a little too dumb for your internship spot suddenly. 
"Halloween." Miguel looked at you meaningfully and your lips pursed slowly, just like the day he first saw you. Miguel gave a tight-lipped smile. 
You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms. "I, uh, dunno if this is the right place to talk about that. Dunno if there is a right place to talk about that, if 'm bein' honest." 
"Let's talk in my office," Miguel said, not offering room for argument or questions as he stood and started walking. 
"Wh–now?" 
"Yes, now." 
Well, you were supposed to be talking, not blowing him under the desk. Thank god the department heads got their own private spaces. 
One of Miguel's big hands fisted in your hair, holding back your soft locks so he could get a good look at your face as it twisted in concentration. You took him too easily for how big he was, each languid dip of your head welcoming him down your tight, hot throat until–until–
"Mierda–" Miguel pushed your head down to his base, forcing your nose flush up against his well-trimmed hair and blushing skin. You groaned and gagged as he bucked into your mouth and unloaded thick, sticky strands of cum down your throat. You swallowed around him, doing your best to take it all down. 
A harsh bite from you had Miguel letting go and leaning back in his seat. He panted and rubbed his face, but his eyes snapped back to you as you took your time getting off of him. He expected you to pull off and make a mess while you snapped and scolded him, but you went slowly, not rushing. 
Your tongue worked him through the aftershocks, rubbing under his length and thoughtfully tracing the thick veins and sensitive muscle still pulsing from your pampering. Miguel's fingers carded through your hair again as he watched you work; your hand slipped up and gripped his base once enough was out of your mouth to hold. You ran your tongue around him once, twice, thrice, before sucking on that thick, darkened head for much longer than necessary. Maybe you just wanted to be thorough. Maybe you just couldn't get enough of him. 
"Gonna get me worked up again, 'f you keep doing shit like that," Miguel warned, something of an excited laugh fluttering through this soft panting. 
You took a second to swallow (Oh, God, you were torturing him) before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Do you want me to get you all worked up again, Doc?" 
That pesky hand around his shaft tightened before stroking him firmly and fully. Miguel sighed and melted into his chair. He could probably let you pamper him for hours, if his sex drive were to be trusted. Maybe he could–
"Kidding," you said with a mean wink. You kissed the tip of his cock before letting go and parking your ass on his desk. "So. About Halloween?" 
Miguel blinked away the whiplash and scrambled to tuck himself away. "I, uh–yeah. Halloween." He nodded to himself in thought, definitely remembering what he wanted to discuss. 
You stared at him, so expectant, before leaning in and resting your elbows on your knees. "N'awe, did I suck the brain cells right outta your pretty head, Doc?" You fake pouted, and Miguel scowled. 
And he blushed. Just a little. "I just–I was just–y'know what? Maybe you deserved it."
"Pft. I deserved what?" You asked, leaning back onto your palms then. “Bein’ hit then quit?” 
Miguel frowned. His brows drew together and his jaw set uncomfortably while he looked away. It seemed to make you a little uncomfortable by the way you moved to reach toward him before deciding against it. Your hand combed through your hair instead and you sighed, surrendering. 
“Look, I–if I seriously expected the royal treatment from a guy totin’ a wedding band on his pretty lil’ finger, I’d be a shockin’ moron, alright?" You sighed and rubbed your face with both hands. "I mean--it's just s'pposed to be sex, man. Sex ain't complicated like that." 
Miguel narrowed his eyes at you. "I’m–what are you–sex is complicated." His palms landed on your thighs as he leaned in. “You don’t actually think–”
"Sex is busting and moving on with life,” You interrupted sharply. You grew tense for a moment, but forced a relaxed laugh. “I'm kinda surprised you didn't get me fired, if I'm being real."  
The realization hit Miguel fast and hard, knocking the goddamn wind out of his stupid lungs--you were the type of guy left in the dust, the sort that shit heads like Miguel hit and quit, fucked and forgot. The sorry dregs of an exciting sex life filled with names he didn't care about and some he couldn't bother to remember. But Miguel knew your name. But did that even matter to you?
"But, uh…I should get goin', so. Yeah. Good talk." You made your move to shuffle off the desk, but Miguel's hands on your thighs didn't budge. "Oy, I gotta go, old man. You hard of hearing already? Should I call the nursing home or–" 
"Santa Muerte, do you ever stop talking?" Miguel sighed and shook his head. "I haven't said my piece yet, kid." 
You pursed your lips, probably holding back some cursed joke about giving him a blowie, and nodded. "Okay. Say your piece." 
"I will. And you're gonna shut up while I talk, got it?" 
"Got it." 
"Good." Miguel took a deep breath to calm the storm in his chest. "First of all, you've got the wrong idea about sex. It matters. Even if you're just sleeping around, it's because you're looking for that connection. It's a good thing. A beautiful thing. So, I don't want to hear you say all this shit about sex not mattering. Especially when you're talking about sex with me." He looked you up and down, and the fond feeling curled up his chest stretched and lazed like a cat sunbathing. "Got it?" 
You nodded, a vibrant dusting of red saturating your skin. That doe-eyed look was back on your face, just like the first time you'd hooked up with him in his office. He really did adore it. He maybe kinda adored you. 
"Good." He fidgeted with your slacks, pulling on the crisp material with busy fingers as he thought about sentence structure and syntax and connotation and–and– 
Just say it, Miguel. "I shouldn't have left you on Halloween." 
You laughed shyly. "I--what?" He watched you rub your cheek like you were trying to rid yourself of the scarlet blush staining your skin. Miguel had to admit, your reactions were doing wonders for his ego. 
"I said," He started, leaning in a little, lowering his voice. "I shouldn't have left you on Halloween." After a pause, a beat to get you to say something, he continued, "I'm sorry, alright? It's not happening again." 
Another laugh (more like a giggle) bubbled out of you, just as nervous and shy as the last. Your hands fussed with your hair and your tie, your lab coat and your cuffs, until your nerves calmed a bit, the slow circles rubbed into your thighs helping to ease you down from hysteria. It was embarrassing. You were embarrassed. But you were happy.
"Y-yeah, alright. Cool. Neat." You coughed. "Awesome. Uh, I just–you–I have to–" and you leaned down, almost tumbling off the desk, and kissed him. 
Miguel hummed deep in his chest–a heartfelt welcome to your needs and wants. His chair shifted slightly as you haphazardly slipped off the desk and into his lap, expertly never breaking the kiss, and getting comfortable; your arms looped around his shoulders, your hands fisted and carded through his hair, your thighs rested on either side of his slim waist. 
“You’re shockin’ hot when you’re bein’ nice t’ me,” you mumbled against his lips, maybe a bit into his mouth. “But in that, y’know, authoritative dad kinda way.” Your breath stuttered when a mischievous hand slipped into your slacks and cupped your toned ass with a firm squeeze. 
Miguel smirked. “Daddy issues, huh?” Your small scoff and the firm tug of his hair answered him. His smirk warped into a grin. “Want me to scold you more, huh? You get off on that?” 
“You keep talkin’ shit and I’m calling you papi in public, dickhead,” you mumbled as you fumbled with the zipper of his pants. You paused though, and looked up in thought. “But you could help me with my taxes. That’d be really sexy of you.” 
Miguel blinked stupidly for a moment before chuckling and shaking his head. “Why am I not surprised you’re shit at taxes?” God, you were cute. 
“Hey, hey, I’m not shit at them, I just hate them.” You shrugged before very casually slipping his hard-on out of his pants and giving it a few preparatory strokes. “Could use some tips.”
“Or an accountant,” Miguel offered. It was your turn to blink dumbly. “You think I handle my own money? I pay someone to do it.” 
“Huh. You’re seriously in a different tax bracket.” You squeaked when Miguel somehow managed to rip down your slacks down to your mid-thigh. “Hey–” 
“I’ll buy you a new pair.” He helped the pants off of you while you half-stood to get the damn things off, letting them hang off one leg in your haste to get the party started. “And I’ll get my accountant to take care of your taxes.” 
That had you beaming. “I think we’re entering sugar daddy territory, Doc.” You grinned between the sweet kisses you dotted along his jawline. Miguel felt the barest scraping of teeth against his skin, and his cock swelled more. What he wouldn’t give to let you bite and marr him as you wanted. 
But he couldn’t, not with Dana’s skeptical eyes and Gabi’s naive glances watching him from every angle. 
“It’s our little secret,” Miguel whispered with a kiss left against your cheek. 
Your lips found his again, letting your  impish smile sear his skin with sanguine intent, like a contract signed with the devil. 
Miguel would do anything to keep extending that contract. 
368 notes · View notes
mixtape-racha · 10 months
Note
YAYYYYYY 100 followersssss :) im so happy for youuuuu :)))))
okay, here is my request... hehe, im suchhh a sucker for hurt comfort and I loveeee fem 9th member au's. but like not smut or like fwb, just like a really juicy story y'know? I haven't been able to find any of those two categories combined tho, especially into like a longer fic, like it's always in the hundreds (I would love it if it was a little longer, no pressure tho :). literally, anything works, from some kinda mess up on stage to maybe you messing up a relationship w a member??? idk. I'm letting ur thoughts run wild here... THANK YOU AND CONGRATSSSS
(im sorry im really vague in requests lol)
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YAYYYY THO IM LIKE REALLYYYY PROUD OF YOU<<<3333 LOV U BB KEEP DOING WHAT YOU DOOOO
thank you so much my lovely bae!! ilysm and i hope i did this request justice!! i kind of went off on a tangent and got carried away with the plot waaa &lt;3
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sorry seems to be the hardest word
pairing: ot8 x fem!9th member!reader
warnings: angst, hurt comfort, reader snapping at the members, reader being physically unwell, fluff at the end
words: 2.29k
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everything was going wrong today, and you truly meant every. fucking. thing.
somehow, you had managed to turn your alarm off the night before (probably because you fell asleep while on your phone, accidentally calling your mom in you sleep in the process), and none of the guys took the initiative to wake you up when they got up.
okay, sure, you couldn’t blame them entirely. you were a grown woman, and you could look after yourself. but weren’t you supposed to be a team? eight other people surrounding you, and none of them thought to check on you? especially when you were usually up and alert before they were? no, instead they were all out the door without even knocking to see if you were feeling okay. so much for being your brothers and best friends.
so god forbid, you were late this morning. you managed to turn up at the company for your vocal lessons only ten minute late, but it felt awful as you’d never been late before. you were so incredibly lucky to get the opportunity to debut with skz, especially joining the group later in their career and being the only girl. you wanted to do everything perfectly to show that you deserved to be where you were, and with the way today was shaping out you were so disappointed with yourself.
but then - it got worse. you, in your rush to leave the dorms, had forgotten your sheet music, leaving your vocal teacher to be short and snappy with you. yeah, you brought it up on your phone instead, but she was strict, and a firm believer in “good old-fashioned pen and paper over your silly little radio devices nowadays”. her attitude towards you for the remainder of your lesson affected you more than you liked to admit - excusing yourself to the bathroom to have a little cry before you headed to the studio.
for some reason, none of your schedules were properly coordinated today, leaving jisung to be the one in the studio with you - rather than chan, like usual -  while you recorded your lines for the demos to be sent to the company later in the month, when you’d decide the songs for the new album you had upcoming later in the year.
jisung was always the nicest to you, especially when he could tell you were having a rough day - you were both very alike in that sense, very attentive towards each other as if you could tell what the other was feeling. 
however, it seemed today that something had crawled up his ass and died. he was almost as snappy as your vocal teacher, and you were quite frankly sick of it. you kept messing up your lines; whether from the stress or the ache building in your throat (god you hoped you weren’t getting sick), you weren’t sure. but clearly, jisung wouldn’t stand for it.
“honestly, (y/n), you might as well just call it a day and come back to this with chan-hyung another day. i need to get on with other stuff.” he sighed, dismissively, as you bit back the tears fighting to escape your eyes. he wouldn’t even look at you, and your stomach was doing somersaults. was he really that mad? surely he could see how hard you were trying.
but instead of confronting him, you just grabbed your belongings and left after silently agreeing. no one answered your message on the group chat when you asked if anyone was down to get lunch together, even though you could see basically everyone had read it, so you retreated to the canteen alone before you had to go to practice with the boys.
as the ache in your throat spread to your joints, fatigue plaguing you, you trudged up to the practice room for rehearsals with the boys. you were learning a new dance - in fact, the already chosen title track for the new album, and deep down you were dreading it. it was more difficult than you had imagined, and definitely aimed more towards moves the boys could do compared to you. you loved the boys, but sometimes you felt like they forgot that men and women’s bodies worked differently.
surprisingly, you weren’t the last to arrive, squashing your fear of another thing going wrong.
but just as soon as practice began, your fear was reawakened. the ache in your joints was making the dance more difficult for you to execute, and you could feel the annoyance radiating off of minho’s body even if he wouldn’t admit it. you stumbled a few times, almost knocking into felix, who looked at you more frustrated than concerned.
“seriously, (n/n), what’s going on? it’s really not that hard. get your head in the game.”
you huffed, shaking out your limbs and telling minho to start the track again. maybe if you ignored your surroundings, ignored how you were feeling, then things would be easier. you could block out minho’s harsh criticisms - he was probably just tired. you could block out everything, knowing the boys were suffering just as much as you lately. but when the music stopped again, and everyone was talking at you, voice after voice lapping over each other you just couldn’t take it anymore.
“shut the fuck up! shut up, shut up, shut up! give me a fucking break, i’m trying my hardest!”
you honestly didn’t mean to snap, you were just so overwhelmed and couldn’t take anymore. when chan tried to put a comforting hand on your shoulder, you flung it off, all your annoyance and stress from the day building up at once.
“don’t fucking touch me. i don’t need your pity, i don’t need you to tell me that i don’t know how to do my job well enough. this is the fucking worst day of my life and you all keep making it worse!”
every fiber of your being was telling you to stop, to be reasonable, but it was like your mouth was making its own decisions. you couldn’t tell which member it was, but you were interrupting the gentle call of your name before you could even control it.
“and no, before any of you try to be funny, i’m not on my period,” you sneered, anger bubbling under your skin as you saw jisung look away sheepishly. “i’m just sick of feeling like i have to fight to prove i’m good enough, like i’m not one of you guys yet. we’re supposed to be a team, but all day i’ve been pushed to the side and treated like i don’t matter. i’m sick of it!”
you breathed heavily, grabbing your duffle bag from the side of the room and storming towards the door.
“i’m staying with yeji tonight, leave me the fuck alone.”
was all you said before leaving the boys stood in shock, confused as to why you were acting like you hated them.
regrettably, the minute you found yourself in yeji’s dorm and explained your day to her, you knew you were in the wrong. how could you let yourself treat your best friends that way? they didn’t deserve that, and you would be most understanding if they never forgave you. it was only when the throb in your head and ache in your joints became too much that you finally allowed yourself to sleep.
chan’s apology
luckily, you and the boys were granted a week off a while ago, and today marked the first day of that week. however, knowing chris he was probably still hauled up in the studio from the night before. it was around 3am (yeji shouldn’t have let you crash so early, your sleep schedule was going to be manic), so you pulled yourself together before making the decision to go visit him.
he may not even want to see you after your little outburst, but you could still try.
you stopped by the convenience store on your way to the studio, grabbing some snacks and some drinks just to be on the safe side. carefully checking the group chat, you saw that changbin was still in the studio with chan and you hoped you could get there before he left - it might be easier to kill two birds with one stone. you were just glad you bought way too much food for just two people.
you smiled politely, bowing at the security guard as he let you into the building, heart thumping in your ears as you carefully traced the steps to chan’s studio.
when you finally approached the door, you had to take a minute to prepare yourself to knock. you heard chan’s voice mumbling behind the door once you did, nervously waiting until he came and opened it.
he looked surprised to see you, frozen for a moment before quickly ushering you in and sitting you on the couch next to changbin. almost in instinct, changbin’s arm was slung around your shoulder - something he always did when you were close by, relishing in the fact he wasn’t the shortest in the group anymore.
you sheepishly held out the bag containing all the goodies you got at the convenience store to chan, a small smile on your face when he took it.
“got you some snacks.. kind of guessed you might have forgotten to eat.” your voice was quiet, ashamed. you just hoped they wouldn’t hold your outburst against you.
but when chan grinned, you knew he could never be mad at you for long.
“we were worried about you, y’know? that’s why jisung let you go early today - something seemed off and we didn’t want you to get too overwhelmed.” changbin said from next to you, the hand on your shoulder rubbing it comfortingly. 
you couldn’t stop the tears from welling up behind your eyes again, but bit them back in fear they’d think you were looking for sympathy.
“i– i’m so sorry. i’ve just had an awful day, and i feel like shit, but that doesn’t excuse my actions, and i shouldn’t have snapped at you all - you couldn’t have known, and its not your fault.”
you explained why your day had been so bad to them (after some pushing from chan), and how you were feeling physically, causing changbin to look at you with great worry.
they indulged in a small cuddle session, feasting on the snacks you provided while they tried to help cheer you up. and honestly, it worked, just talking through how you were feeling, and gettin constructive feedback rather than just a shoulder to lean on was relieving.
you couldn’t apologize to them more, feeling so ashamed of your actions, but they were quick to reassure you it was okay - everyone had bad days, you were only human after all. you just needed to work on your communication a little bit.
when you finally got ready to head back to the dorm at 5am, you felt better than you had in a long time, actually.
apology numbers one and two: complete.
but when you arrived back at the dorm, head peacefully resting on changbin’s shoulder, what you weren’t expecting to walk into was what you all called a “cuddle pool” - the sofa bed pulled out, covered with pillows and blankets - and a spot waiting for you between felix and seungmin.
your eyes watered at the expectant faces of your soul-brothers, small sobs leaving your lips as your shoulders shook. god, the day had taken a toll on you - you couldn’t remember the last time you cried in front of the boys.
it was only then that minho - who you hadn’t seen standing by the door - scooped you into a hug.
“oh, angel,” he frowned, a hand pressed to your forehead. “you’re burning up. is that why you felt so bad earlier?”
words seemed to fail you, and all you could do was nod as your grip on his sweater tightened. it certainly wouldn’t be the first time you got sick from stress, but you hated being sick. you hated feeling out of control in your own body, and despised being doted on like you were unable. however, this time… you think you could let it slide. you just needed your boys close by right now.
they seemed to enjoy looking after you, and you felt you owed them that after the situation in the practice room.
minho was quick to place on you on the couch, felix and seungmin suffocating you in a bone-crushing hug. jisung handed you the tv remote, saying you could choose to watch whatever you wanted, and that everyone would be having a slumber party in the living room until you felt better.
minho and chan had gone to make you some chicken noodle soup - using felix’s mom’s recipe, which was known for being a lifesaver in your dorm. jeongin was quick to grab you your comfort plushie, taking his place on the floor by your feet - the two of you were 100% keen on physical affection, but having him close by helped.
within merely an hour, all nine of you were curled up, an animated disney movie playing, with soup and mugs of tea being passed around the room. it was nice, and it felt so good to have your boys so close and willing to help you.
you definitely took on changbin’s mention of needing to improve on communication, wanting nothing more than to improve yourself for the little family you had build around you. and yeah you were sick, and they would probably get sick too by being in such close proximity to you, but that was a problem for another day. you’d just return the favor of looking after them.
you just knew you were lucky to have them.
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taglist: join taglist here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @taeriffic @mits-vi @chanssmiles @5kayzee @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha
513 notes · View notes
b1ttersuite · 3 months
Note
how would adam in eden treat his first wife reader
Was he an asshole before eve and lilith left him?
HOOOOLY CRAP GUYS. i went down the BIGGEST rabbit hole for this (perks of being sick and having free time)… first request!!!! (AND FEEL FREE TO LEAVE MORE :)) tysm!!! and with all the background research, i cooked !!! (proofread + i tried my best to make this accurate)
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
how would adam in eden treat his first wife reader?
was he an asshole before eve and lilith left him?
(no warnings, no pronouns used, but suggested you are his wife ^_^)
— in my opinion, lucifer pretty much messed with his whole love life. i think he would be much more chill than he is now. but to try and match his character, he will be a little egoistic.
you were adam’s first wife, and to him, you meant a lot.
seriously, being the first man on earth he grew to be a bit egotistical. but, you helped tone that down from him. 
you knew he thought higher of himself, but you tried to remind him that humans should all be equal.
life was wonderful in eden. after spending time in eden with him, you both realized you were falling deeply in love with each other.
“hey, i think i’m in love with you.”
adam says with a grin, and you can’t help but reply,
“me too.”
and your relationship bloomed from there. he thought you were the most wonderful woman he would ever meet.
and as a few years passed, you became adam’s wife. 
he could hardly believe it, considering how dumb he was. you were like a goddess to him. beautiful in every way, even if you didn’t think so. he would always tell you how important you are to him.
you spent days upon days with him, and you would plan various things to do.
one of your favorite activities was spending a day in the warm sun, prancing in meadows and playing in creeks.
adam just adored you, sometimes he got a little embarrassed to participate because of his somewhat  ‘manly’ ego, but if you asked him to do anything, no questions, he’d do it right away.
“babe, there’s a bunch of flowers in your hair.”
he says, gently leaning forward to pick some of the succulents out of your hair. you two sat in the meadow, as adam hummed while doing so.
“what happens when we die?”
you say curiously, and adam looks at you wide eyed.
“oh, sweetness, don’t worry ‘bout that, ‘kay?”
you silently nodded, curling close to him. the sun was starting to set.
you two shifted on your backs to look at the stars, and he listened intently as you mumbled about the different constellations.
and soon, he knew when your speech got slower, and your hands stopped pointing up at the sky, you had fallen to slumber. and he follows quickly.
͙͘͡★
and you remained close, in love for years to come.
when it came time for death, you both succumbed.
when you made it to heaven, you were there together.
he was so happy, happy he is able to spend the rest of eternity with you.
extra / if he left you for eve + lillith (angstyyy kinda?)
when you and adam got married, you knew this wouldn’t last forever. you love him, so so much, but you knew he didn’t love you fully.
and that’s just who he was, perhaps. he was always eyeing other women, thinking he was superior to you, and seemed to become a bit short tempered around you.
and that’s when you couldn’t take it anymore. you confronted him, tears in your eyes.
and he left.
left you for eve, left her for lillith.
you knew there was no end to it, but when you became an angel, you saw just how fucked up he was.
he was even worse now, somehow, and you knew it was all his wives fault.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
research/long blabber about adam’s backstory i looked up to understand him further even after rewatching hazbin 4 times…  adam’s first wife lilith married lucifer,, lilith and adam fought (as of religious text) demons =sinners and freedom with a life in heaven =exterminations lilith = left and kinda evil? adam =first man earliest of man and kinda worst of man? (according to lol more religious text blah blah blah) uprise because lilliths singing which adam took advantage of? alastor’s master = lillith..(theory i think) OH GOD IM SO CONFUSED anyways. lilith hates subservience (willingness to obey others unquestionably) that’s why she left adam?? adam =toxic masculinity. eve left to eat the apple from lucifer ADAMS EX-wife set lillith up? or what. first human. after his wife’s? he’s EXTRENELY cocky and arrogant in charge of annual extermination of sinners (because of overpopulation) is mean because he thinks it’s hilarious, who’s gonna stop him? adam thinks no one can change, and thinks heaven and hell is a great system. basically abuses his power..  lucifer had a baby with adam’s ex-wife and is indirectly responsible for adam losing out on paradise. adam didn’t eat the fordbifden fruit which is why he acts the way he does? god complex cuz he’s firsy man. lillith was the first woman in hazbin, lilith left because adam thought higher of himself. EVE ATE THE FRUIT of knowledge! i tried to use my brain to the max to make this so I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!
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findafight · 2 years
Text
Ohhh fic where Steve and Robin and Dustin and Erica all casually make funny little haha jokes with each other about getting tortured/almost caught by the Russians under Starcourt because they all have that shared trauma and had many a long late night calls reassuring each other they're alive and playing dnd together and fulfilling lifetime supply of icecream obligations.
They do this because sure the rest of the party knew there were Russians under Starcourt but everything they went through in that basement was sorta...forgotten in the aftermath of literal flesh monster. And with Hopper dead and the Byers moving, there's so much happening that whatever happened to Steve's face (lost another fight...) and why he and Robin went from mildly antagonistic co-workers to codependent goobers who couldn't go literally a day without seeing the other or what made Dustin always ask if Erica was going to come for party hang outs are all sort of brushed under the rug. Not a big deal, really. Bigger things happening after everything.
And they cope together and scoops troop is a weird little section of the party no one but them really understands. Robin and Steve are attached at the hip and to a lesser extent so are Erica and Dustin (but they'll never admit it), and they all have mini gatherings together.
So, the casual mentioning of starcourt and specifically what went down with the Russians is commonplace for them. (Erica is quick to remind them she saved their asses, and are they so lame they need her help again? but she smiles and Steve and Robin just laugh and give her a big hug.) And somehow, they forget that not everyone really knows what went down before July 4th 1985.
And I want them to do it in front of everyone. I want them to have their stupid "this was so fucked up but we're alive and we got through it so now we have to laugh or we may never stop crying about it" banter at a big "we saved the world again!" Barbecue. I want the rest of the folks there to go silent and them not to notice.
I want someone to mention Steve not getting a black eye this time, congrats! and Robin going "the only reason why I didn't get one last time was because the Russians said-"
And Steve, who is lying with his head in her lap, reaches up to gently cup her cheek and says in a terrible Russian accent "don't worry, we will not ruin your pretty face!" (everyone is quiet around them, they do not notice)
She laughs. "And punched me in the gut a few more times. I peed blood for like, three days."
Steve goes "ewwww" only to be pinched by robin.
"you peed blood too, dingus. You got it worse than me and my pretty face."
He giggles and opens his hand up for a high five "pissing blood buddies, hell yeah!" And shifts in her lap. "But they bruised my pretty face. Rude."
"aww. It's okay, Stevie, your face is still so pretty. Prettiest boy in Hawkins."
"thanks Robin."
"at least Dustin and Erica got us out before they started ripping out fingernails." She shudders.
"or used the bonesaw"
"mmm. Unfortunately not before we got funky truth serum drugs though."
He leans up, looking at the two "y'all couldn't have been a bit faster?" But he's smiling, teasing. A well worn joke.
Dustin and Erica respond simultaneously with "I'm missing bones, Steve, what do you want from me?" And "I was ten and my legs were short as shit. Beggars can't be choosers." Respectively.
It is at this point an Actual Grown Up butts in.
"what. What do you mean ripping out fingernails?"
Robin and Steve look towards Joyce, who asked.
"like. To interrogate us? Because we just kept saying we worked for scoops even with the truth serum."
"because they thought we had to be superspies to get into their creepy lair and not a bunch of kids."
"mmhmm"
Hopper jumps in "wait. You were tortured by them?"
Robin and Steve give him eerily similar looks that express how obvious the answer to that is.
"yeah, duh."
"I don't go looking to get brain damage every year, you know."
Hoppers eye twitches. "Why didn't you say anything?"
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fluentmoviequoter · 5 months
Note
Take all the time you need 💕
My idea: Deacon got a girlfriend (let’s pretend Annie isn’t there) and she is a teacher at a high school.
One today there is a shooting going down at her school and Deacon and the team don’t know if she is there or not and can’t reach her. Turns out the shooter is in her class and Deacon has somehow get her save.
I hope it makes somehow sense 😅 English isn’t my native language -🥰
Thank you for being patient and for requesting!! This makes perfect sense; no worries. I love pretending Annie doesn't exist lol. I changed this a teeny tiny bit and let the reader do a little bit of saving before Deacon saves her. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍
Warnings: canon-typical action/danger/violence, school shooting (loosely based on 2x11), angst, fluff.
Word Count: 2.3k+ words
Picture from Pinterest
Worried for You
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When Deacon Kay imagined his future, he did not picture being 30 David this far into his career, nor did he dream that he would have a girlfriend who spends her days teaching high school students. Since he met you, his life has been brighter. You make each other happy. The last year and a half of dating has been filled with late-night phone calls, weekly date nights, and more joy than you thought possible.
“Deac!” you call, jumping into his arms when he turns to greet you.
“Hey, you,” he replies, hugging you tightly. “Our table is ready if you are.”
You nod, beaming at him as you slip your hand into his. He leads you to the table, pulling your chair out before sitting across from you.
“How was your day?” you ask, ignoring the menu after all the date nights you’ve had here.
“It was pretty good, mostly training since it was quiet for once. But I’m more interested in you and your day,” Deacon responds.
“Nothing special, just teaching teenagers. Again. Tell me a story?”
Deacon sighs as you bat your eyelashes at him but begins a story anyway. “Hondo and I were paired up for a breach a few years ago, but the way the house was laid out, we weren’t going to be able to see each other for long. We didn’t know how many people were in there, so we made an inconspicuous code word to alert the other if something went wrong. Well, it should have been inconspicuous, but Hondo’s first choice was ‘mango.’ Great if you’re in a store or something, not so great in a barricaded safe house.”
You laugh with Deacon, reaching across the table to hold his hand as you ask, “Should we have a code word? We could use it when you’d rather spend time with me than Hondo.”
“So, daily?”
“Seriously, David. Can we?”
“Of course. What were you thinking?”
“It has to be something that fits into any conversation, so… tree?”
“Not bad. What if I need to know something about a tree though?”
“Like what?”
Deacon’s eyes stay on yours as he concedes, “Good point. Tree it is.”
“Do you- do you have quiet days often?”
“Depends. Some weeks are quiet, and sometimes you don’t have a quiet day for months.”
“I just- you know I worry about you, so I like hearing about quiet days.”
“Hey,” Deacon says, dipping his head to catch your eyes. “I know worrying is inevitable, and I can’t imagine what it takes to be in a relationship with me and what I do, but I promise that I will always fight to come back to you. I have a good team and we watch each other’s backs.”
You nod, but Deacon looks like he wants more.
“I know you’ll do everything you can to come back to me. And that helps a lot. Thank you, Deacon.” The moment is more serious than most of your date nights, so you add, “At least you don’t have to worry about me. I just have to deal with teenage hormones and ears that don’t work or brains that don’t comprehend.”
“That sounds much worse than what I face every day,” Deacon replies dramatically.
✯✯✯✯✯
Your students know when you’ve been on a date, you’re always in a great mood the next morning. You habitually check your phone throughout the day but smile more after a date.
“Are you ever going to tell us who the lucky guy is?” one of your students pries.
“Are you ever going to meet the rubric requirements on an assignment?” you reply sarcastically.
“Ooh,” several of the students exclaim.
“Alright, guys, let’s get started,” you begin, pausing when your phone chimes.
“You said no ringers in class,” someone laments.
You snatch your phone up at Deacon’s text tone, holding your breath while you read it. Everything is fine; he just texted about your next date night. You breathe out and smile, typing a quick reply before you turn to the board.
✯✯✯✯✯
During your third class, a distant scream is audible through the closed door. You glance at the window, unamused with and immune to teenagers and their obnoxious actions. When you hear a gunshot, your demeanor switches instantly.
“Quiet,” you snap at a girl who looks ready to scream.
Several more shots echo, so you can’t tell where they’re coming from.
“Everyone in the supply closet, take your bags with you,” you demand quietly. “It will be tight but stay down and stay quiet.”
Someone whimpers your name, and you crouch in the open doorway.
“Everything is going to be fine,” you promise before closing the door.
You slide a desk over, lining it up in front of the door in a way you hope looks like it is supposed to be there. Crouching, you walk back towards your desk, trying to avoid the windows and the glass pane in the door. The doorknob jiggles, and you rush to your desk, grabbing your phone as you fall into your chair.
“Drop the phone!” the shooter yells as he enters, leveling his gun on you.
Setting the phone down, you lock it to hide the half-typed text to Deacon. That may be the last thing he hears from you, so you’re glad you started by telling him you love him. You raise your hands and look at the crazed gunman before you.
“Just stay calm okay, this doesn’t have to be like this,” you say gently.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Let’s roll, 20 David!” Hicks yells as he enters the common area. “School shooting going down and we have to get in there now.”
“Confirmed casualties?” Hondo asks.
“Do we know who the shooter is?” Deacon adds.
Hicks takes a deep breath and turns toward the team as he tells them the name of the school. “Casualties unknown and no confirmed ID, but two possibilities. I’m sorry, guys, but you’re the best option here.”
“Let’s do this,” Hondo says, leading the team to Black Betty.
Luca pulls out as soon as everyone is in. Hondo and Deacon remove their phones to check for messages from you.
“Anything?” Hondo asks, looking up from his empty phone.
Deacon shakes his head before raising his phone to his ear. His leg bounces until he lowers his hand and shakes his head at Hondo again.
“She has me on emergency bypass, if she could answer, she would have,” he explains. “And her location sharing isn’t loading.”
“Then let’s go get her and everyone else out safe,” Luca announces, taking a sharp turn.
✯✯✯✯✯
You flinch as Deacon’s ringtone dies out, the sound of glass crunching under a boot drowning it out.
“Who is supposed to be in here with you?” the shooter demands.
“No one. It’s my grading period,” you explain, trying to remain calm. “That’s why my ringer is on, because I don’t have students until after the next bell.”
The shooter nods, the gun bouncing erratically in his grip.
“Look, we can all walk away from this, but not until you stop,” you add.
The gun straightens, and you force your eyes to stay open.
✯✯✯✯✯
Deacon taps Hondo’s shoulder after he feels Street’s hand on his shoulder. They enter through the gym, giving students quiet directions to safety.
“Do you know where the shooter is?” Hondo asks quietly.
“He went that way,” a young girl answers, pointing as she runs.
“Let’s split off. Luca, Tan, go east. Street, Chris, west. Deac, we’re going for the shooter,” Hondo directs.
Deacon falls into step beside him, moving slowly and clearing classrooms as they go.
“Her room is down here, right?” Hondo whispers.
Deacon nods and then slows when they hear a gunshot. Moving faster, they reach the end of the hall: your class on the right and a large glass wall on the left.
“It doesn’t end well, it’s too late!” a man’s voice yells in your classroom.
Deacon’s eyes widen as he watches the door, praying you’re not in there, that you're somewhere safe.
“It’s not,” your voice replies calmly.
Deacon sighs, a minuscule amount of tension escaping when he hears your voice. That’s a good sign for now. Hondo slides his back against the wall, peeking into the glass on the window. He lowers quickly and looks at Deacon.
“His back is to us, and he has a gun on her, we have to think this through, Deac,” he says.
“Of course. We can’t storm in, he’s a loose cannon,” Deacon agrees.
They hear the gunshot before the door rattles, and Deacon lurches forward, reaching for the doorknob as his other hand moves toward the trigger. Hondo’s arm wraps around his shoulders, pulling him backward.
“Deac, man, calm down,” Hondo grunts, struggling against Deacon. “Charging in won’t help her any.”
“And if it’s too late?” Deacon whispers harshly, relaxing enough to pull his arms from Hondo’s grip.
“Why did you do that?” you ask inside.
Hondo pats Deacon’s back, creeping back to the door. They listen to footsteps as someone, presumably the shooter, paces in the classroom. Your voice is low as you try to calm him down. Deacon has never loved you more, but he’s never been this scared before. He has less than a split second if something goes wrong, and that’s not enough time to save anyone.
“Of course,” you answer. “See if you can find the tree.”
Deacon nods at Hondo and reaches for the doorknob.
✯✯✯✯✯
“What is that?” the shooter whispers, pointing to a display on your bulletin board.
“It’s a collection of the best projects this semester. Do you think yours may be up there?” you ask quietly.
“Can I look?”
“Of course. See if you can find the tree.”
You saw the corner of the SWAT helmet in the window before, and you hope Deacon is out there. Using the code word was pointless if he isn’t, but maybe the shooter will be distracted either way. The doorknob twists and you drop to your knees behind your desk before the door opens forcefully, banging against the wall behind it.
“LAPD SWAT, drop your weapon!” Hondo yells.
“You don’t want to kill anyone, including yourself, we know that. So drop the gun and we can get you help,” Deacon adds.
You close your eyes as Deacon talks, trying to imagine that you’re alone in the room and neither of you is in danger.
“Okay, okay,” the shooter repeats.
You hear something hit the floor, and then Hondo says something into his radio as he steps toward the shooter. Deacon’s arms wrap around you, but you keep your eyes closed as you turn in his arms, pressing your face into the plate protecting his chest. His hand rubs your back as the other cradles your head against him.
“You’re okay, it’s okay, we’re all safe, baby,” he whispers into your hair, his helmet discarded.
“There’s kids in the closet,” you say against him, tightening your arms around his waist.
His head lifts from beside yours as he tells Street to check the closet. You hear their muted gasps and stifled screams before they realize who’s opening the door.
“Are you okay?” Deacon asks.
You lean back just enough to look up at him. Nodding, you keep your arms around him as you look into his eyes.
“And you said I didn’t need to worry about you,” he says playfully, pushing your hair out of your face.
“Now you know how I feel all the time,” you reply.
He helps you to your feet, keeping a hand on you. Your students are out of the closet, and when one sees you, they all look up.
“You’re dating a narc?” someone asks.
“SWAT, actually,” Deacon replies, smiling easily. “Everyone alright?” He gets mixed nods and muttered yeses before he adds, “EMTs are outside to give you a quick check before you go home to your parents.”
The same student who wanted to know who texts you throughout the day pauses by your side to whisper, “He’s cute. Good job.”
You roll your eyes and hug her quickly before tucking yourself into Deacon's side.
“Nice work with the code word,” Hondo says, moving to stand beside Deacon. “You might’ve saved some lives today.”
“That was all Deacon,” you reply.
“No, no, I was going to charge in here and get everyone killed,” he admits. “I was worried and Hondo made me wait. How’d you get him to turn his back?”
“He wanted to see the display,” you explain, pointing to it. “Figured I could at least kill some time telling him to look for something that wasn’t there.”
 “How’d you know we were out there?”
“I didn’t know who was out there, but I saw the edge of a helmet in the window.”
“Oh, that was me. Which makes me the savior, no?” Hondo teases.
“I think she’s still the savior,” Deacon replies, tipping his head toward you.
“But you saved me, so what’s that make you?” you reply.
Deacon smiles as he loops his arm around you again.
“Get out of here,” Hondo grumbles.
✯✯✯✯✯
You spend the evening wrapped in Deacon’s arms. And his shirt that you stole.
“It’s okay to not be okay after something like that,” Deacon whispers, holding you against his chest as a forgotten movie plays in the background.
“I’ll be okay,” you promise. “All I could think about was you. I was texting you when he came in, and then you called right before he crushed my phone. Then you saved me.”
“What did your text say?”
“Not much. All I got was ‘I love you. There’s’ before the door opened and I stopped,” you answer, tracing shapes on Deacon’s chest.
“You started with I love you,” Deacon muses, shaking his head. “I love you so much.”
“I love you. Thanks for saving me.”
“Anytime.”
You lay down on his chest and kiss his jaw, glad to be alive, home with Deacon, and in his arms.
“That wasn’t an invitation to get into trouble on a regular basis,” Deacon adds. “Just for the record.”
Deacon feels you laugh against him, your chest shaking against him as another kiss lands on his jaw. He doesn’t know how you deal with the uncertainty and the worry every day, but he knows he would do it a million times over for you.
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bejeweledreverie · 4 months
Text
Where The Ocean Waves Met My Anxious Heart And Your Strong Embrace
wc: around 1.5k
warnings: reader almost drowning (as a flashback), mentions of fear of death, panic attack, written in 1st person, english is not my first language, ooc rafe?, fluff, not fully proofread
a/n: AAAA my first fic and i am not sure how to feel about it. truly hope it makes sense. comment if you want to be added to the taglist for future fics (ideally would love to put out one fic every week but we'll see how that goes ;-; )!! if you liked this, please comment and reblog <333
p.s. can't decide if the title fits this at all
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I never liked him. In fact, I want to gag anytime the name ‘Rafe Cameron’ leaves someone's mouth. He had somehow (unsurprisingly) lived up to his title in the Outer Banks, the Kook Prince. An arrogant and cocky asshole was all that he was to me.
I never really cared about the whole Pogues and Kooks thing. I was friends with both, in fact Kie, Pope, John B and JJ were some of my closest friends. Just because I live in Figure Eight, doesn’t make me better than those who live on the Cut. That is what my parents always taught me, since both of them also used to be Pogues.
But I was never gonna live it down when it came to the eldest Cameron offspring. He always calls me ‘the rip-off Kook’.
Sarah and I have been best friends since forever, but I never got along with Rafe. Ever. Even when we were kids, he always annoyed me, trying and often succeeding at pissing me off or upsetting me. 
You would think that we would’ve grown out of our childish antics as time went on, but it only got worse. We could never pass each other without sending glares or saying snarky remarks.
It’s a Friday night in late June. My family and I are at Cameron's for our annual summer barbecue. 
I had left my camera there a couple days prior after a sleepover with Sarah. As always, I was tasked to document the gathering, so I went inside to look for it.
And that is why I found myself in Rafe’s room, looking for my camera, that Sarah had left there for some unknown reason to me.
I had been in there a couple times before, but I never had the chance to check it out completely.
I was surprised to find the wall behind his bed covered in photos. Was he also into photography?
My eyes drifted to the window that overlooked the front yard of Tannyhill. 
There was soft music playing, as our families were conversing, sipping on wine and enjoying the food. My need to capture this moment became unignorable. But as I turned to grab my camera from his desk, I saw Rafe standing behind me. I flinch from his presence.
“Jesus, can you not creep upon people like that?” I say.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart,” he answers, a lazy smirk on his lips.
I roll my eyes at the nickname, turning back to the window.
“What are you doing in my room, Y/L/N?” he asks, as he moves to stand next to me.
“Came to get this,” I picked up the camera from the desk and prepared to snap the photo I was planning on taking before Rafe interrupted me.
“I find it hard to believe that you only came to take your camera, you wanted to snoop and find something to blackmail me with,” he says, jokingly accusing me with a smirk on his face.
“Oh Cameron, I have known you for over a decade, pretty sure I have enough dirt on you as it is,” I laugh slightly, as I adjust the camera settings.
“Really, because in all these years you have never used it on me.” 
“Knowledge is power, Rafael. Don’t expect me to play all of my cards out at once,” I say, zooming in a little bit on the party in the yard.
Once I’m finished taking the photos, I turn to Rafe, finding him already staring at me. I’m used to receiving glares from him, but this time his eyes held something else. An emotion I can’t describe. His gaze was intense.
Feeling a little uncomfortable, I turned to look at the photo covered wall.
“I didn’t know you were into photography,” I say, absentmindedly admiring each photo.
Rafe looks down at his shoes, nervously scratching the back of his neck.
“Yeah, I, uh, always wanted to try it and I ended up liking it a lot.”
My eyes settle on one particular photo. It’s a photo of the ocean, which appears to be right before the storm.
I look at the date in the bottom right corner and my body freezes. 
I can feel the water filling my lungs and I can hear the storm again. The fear of death clouds my brain. 
All of a sudden I’m hiccuping for breaths and I feel my legs give out.
It was supposed to be a stupid dare, but my stubbornness knows no boundaries. 
When JJ jokingly challenged me to surf in the storm, I should’ve just laughed it off, but I didn’t.
Everything was going well, until the wave threw me off the board and I was pushed underwater.
The storm had gotten stronger, so did the waves, and I could barely breathe in when I came up, as another wave pushed me below the surface. Safe to say I was drowning. 
I was so scared, but I couldn’t scream out for help. My limbs were burning from trying to stay above water and slowly I gave in. 
Suddenly, I felt strong arms wrap around me and attempt to pull me out.
Then it all went black.
I felt Rafe’s arms wrap around me to keep me from falling as I choked out a sob. It was like I was experiencing that day all over again. I couldn’t breathe properly and I was shaking like crazy.
“Hey, Y/N, hey! Look at me. You’re safe, you’re not in the water. Just breathe.”
His proximity, my almost drowning, it was too much for me. I tried to wriggle out his grip, failing, as his arms around me only tightened.
“It’s okay, you are safe. I am here.”
I finally let myself collapse into him, sobbing into his chest. He started to rub my back soothingly, while whispering sweet nothings into my ear.
The blurry images of the waves crashing still flooded my brain.
“I thought I was gonna die,” I sobbed
His arms only tightened around me hearing that sentence.
Once I was calm enough, I pulled away slightly. Rafe was already staring at me, and once again, I couldn’t describe the emotion behind his eyes. Was it pityness? Worry? Or was it care?
No, there is no way he cares about me. We hate each other. Right?
I find myself staring back into his captivating blue eyes.
And then the puzzle pieces start falling into place.
“You saved me that day,” I state, my eyes widening with the realization.
Rafe looks away, his hold on me loosening. 
Oh my god. That’s why he knew what my panic attack was about. That’s why after the accident he didn’t talk to me for weeks. Does he actually care about me?
“Rafe, why did you never tell me?” I ask, my hand on his jaw, turning his head so he looks at me.
He sighs, before getting up and walking towards his photo covered wall. He takes off the picture of the ocean from the wall and gestures to me to sit on his bed. 
“I, uh,” he starts nervously, “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want things to change between us."
I sat down in front of him, waiting for him to elaborate, nervous as to where this was going.
“Y/N, no matter what happened, you were always there to call me out on my bullshit, whether that was treating my sister poorly or bullying others. You always knew how to put me in my place and I didn’t want that to change.” 
I look at him, surprised. 
The boy who pulled on my braids in elementary school, the boy who knew which buttons to push to annoy me, that same boy was now sitting in front of me telling me that I am the only thing in his life that he can count on.
He worriedly flips the photo to the other side and hands it to me. I take it and look at the writing on the back of it.
Once I read it, it didn’t take long for our lips to meet for a gentle kiss that is filled with years of pent up emotions and feelings that we didn’t know were there.
His hands are gently cupping my face, as if he was afraid I would break.
When we break apart, a little breathless and dizzy, I once again look at the inscription of the photo and I know that I have never been so sure about something in my life before. Somehow everything that had happened over the last 10 years made perfect sense. And even the accident made sense, because without it, we wouldn’t be here right now smiling shyly at each other.
On the back of the photo, in squiggly handwriting, were written 6 words.
The day I almost lost her.
~
@winterrrnight @h34rtsformilli
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macsimagines · 7 months
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👉👈 I know you mentioned getting asks with similar themes but I can’t help but ask for more because god damn is the angst just… -chefs kiss-
Can the girlies (and by girlies I mean me 😔) get that Kanto!Mikey, Shion, and baby boy Shinichiro headcanons about their s/o trying to leave them because their s/o doesn’t feel good enough?
I swear I’ll give you a better idea someday 😭😭😭.
I did Mikey in a seperate post because his got out of a hand and waaaaaaaaay to big sorry I didn't give these two as much love.
TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI, PHYSICAL VIOLENCE, STALKING, GASLIGHTING???
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Yandere!Shion Madarame
He knows you're insecure, and he loves you, he really does, but he uses it to his advantage. Shion is more worried you're going to be scared and try to run, not like he'll ever let you, but still is very worried about what you might try so he does attempt to play into your worries to make you stay.
"I mean, ya, you can be a pain, but I still like you," he tells you after listening to you fret over how maybe he shouldn't be with someone so weak. What he doesn't say is that he wants to protect you, to guard you and love you because you're just too precious to let go.
But then you go and pull some bullshit. You actually try to break it off... "I-I can't do it anymore, Shion. I just know you need someone who can do more for you and I'm not that person..." and you actually walk out on him like that.
Now Shion would sooner tear out his own eyes than ever hurt you, but your 'breakup' isn't sitting well with him. You figured as much when you see him watching staring at you from your apartment window. He even waves.
And it gets worse from there, because now there always seems to be beatings where ever you go. The nice clerk at the corner store you visit regularly ends up being robbed and thrown out of a window, the jogger you pass by and smile to in your neighborhood ends up being jumped with his kneecaps broken, and even your coworker that always brings you coffee has somehow ended up in accident... People are dropping like flys...
Shion pays you a visit one day. He's actually sitting in your apartment when you get off one night. You're already not happy because you just heard an old friend from high school had somehow ended up with a cracked skull...
But you find Shion just sitting at the foot of your bed... With hands caked in drying blood, smiling at you like you just told him he had won a million dollars.
"How many more?" he asks you, "Wh-what? Shion what're you-" "How many more people are in our way, Y/N? Tell me so I can take care of 'em."
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Yandere!Shinichiro Sano
Oh how much this one loves you could bring all the greatest of romantics to shame. Too bad he's such a goofball. And honestly, that suits you fine. You two are perfect for each other like that.
You're both playful, a little silly, and you two have fun together. But then you see it. The importance of Shinichiro Sano. Men, powerful men, come to him for guidance and respect his own authority.
That makes you feel so small. You actually can't believe how many influential people he has at his beck and call, the ones that call him a leader. And where could someone, who's a little bit goofy and a lot of bit awkward possibly fit into his world.
You tell him as much and it almost brings him to tears. "You're just... you're so much more than I am-!" "I am nothing without you! How could you even think that!?"
And you two argue like that all the time, back and forth, about how you know he's too important to waste his time, and how you're too important to loose. But boy does he feel like he's loosing you....
"I gave it all up. I don't need that if I don't have you." "You had it before me, you can't just stop being so important." But he isn't important, you make him feel important...
Once, you tried to mention that maybe he could do better and he reached hysterics. It honestly terrified you, not because he was violent but because you saw that he had the potential to be.
Grabbing your arms in his hands with a crushing grip, one you knew could break bones if they really wanted to, and holding you so tight that you couldn't even budge if you wanted to.
"I don't want anyone else!" he had hissed, "I don't need anyone else! This is it! For you and me!" its no longer comforting words but demands of submission now. Like he needs you to top bringing the topic up altogether.
And you do. Not because you want to or because you're suddenly convinced. But because you're too scared now. You've noticed eyes on your everywhere you go, you even tell Shinichiro about it.
"Oh? Him? He worked under me back in the day. Told him to keep an eye out for you." "Wh-what!? Why!?" "Keep you safe. Keep you from doing something stupid."
You figured you're not the only insecure one....
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It is angst hours, a little idea for a little sad chaos in my DR entered my head - Feel free to decline to write by the way! It is very specific and not everyone likes to write about these themes either way 💕
This would be Bill-centric, maybe before he’s in a relationship with the reader that is also a member of the band. Their world tours took huge turns on them, I mean, Bill had literal surgery for his vocal chords and they were all very exhausted. What if, after a show that was not very smooth for the reader as she was feeling very lightheaded with the lights and noise so she misses a couple notes, reader collapses from exhaustion or malnutrition when getting off the stage (let’s be honest the kids were running on 2hrs of sleep, energy drinks, alcohol and adrenaline). How would he react and act on this but most importantly, being by reader’s side as she recovers. Maybe you could imply that the reader was also there for him when he had his surgery :)
Have a great day btw 💖💖
(I should script this into my Dr, dam. But anyways, Hi and thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful day! Here ya go!)
Bill Kaulitz x Exhausted!Reader
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Sometimes you and Bill were just straight out tired
You never knew how tiring being famous could be
When you were young you dreamed of being on stage, being famous and everything that came with it
Until you actually did
Sometimes, you could compare it to hell
You never regretted getting famous with their friends and boyfriend, but you hated the downsides that came with it
You had no privacy, interviewers asked personal questions, you were followed, you had pictures and videos taken of you every second of every day
You sometimes got no sleep, rarely getting a few hours
Ever since it all began tours took everything, you had interviews and you had photoshoots
You and Bill relied on each other a bunch, but even sneaking away was hard and sleeping was always interrupted by something more "important"
Your relationship wasn't even something just between you and Bill
You tried so hard, but you guys were always under a microscope and hounded with rumors
And you guys were only teenagers
You barely saw family, friends, couldn't even go to your own parents house without being followed or stalked
Sometimes you forgot to eat or drink, stressing over shows and little details so much Bill even got worried for you
It got so much worse when Bill had surgery on his vocal cords because of singing non-stop at shows
It really showed how much cons and pros came with being famous, sometimes you wished you could just have a single day with just you and Bill
But you couldn't even get that, not even in the hospital when he was trying to get better
So, safe to say you were all fucking tired
You ran on energy drinks, caffeine and adrenaline all the time and sometimes two hours of sleep, maybe three
So many things were going on at once, and shows were never easy, but one was worse than the others
You were light headed and dizzy on stage, the bright lights and loud music you usually loved was messing everything in your mind up and you felt like you were gonna throw up and pass out
You missed a couple notes, which you never did, and Bill immediately noticed
He got worried when he saw how out of it you looked
You were sweaty, staring around and your eyes looked barely open
Bill got concerned and the concert took a little break when you looked like you were about to gag
Bill somehow made his way beside you, which you barely noticed
Bill put his hand around your waist and immediately you stumbled
He caught you the best he could, shooting Tom, Gustav and Georg looks before he helped you off backstage
Right when you guys got off, he stumbled when you actually closed your eyes and passed out
"Oh, shit. (Name)?!"
He was shaking you, hearing you mumble in his arms as he was freaking out a bit but trying to remain calm
He called for help and got you back to y'all's dressing room as the guys got off quickly, seeing their friend legit on the ground
What Bill figured out from staff and your mumbling was that you were exhausted, staff hadn't even seen you eat for a bit and as guilty as he felt, neither did Bill, or Gutav, or Georg, or Tom
Bill felt like shit and stayed in the dressing room with you,
You were sitting on his lap, Bill holding you asleep as he tried to make sure you were okay
He was worried as shit and felt guilty
You noticed when he was getting sick but he didn't notice how you were being eaten alive by exhaustion and stress
He was too, but that wasn't an excuse
He stayed with you the entire time, never leaving your side
"It's okay, it's okay."
You couldn't hear anything but Bill's voice as he held you, you exhausted form sitting between his legs with his arms around you.
"I'm fucking tired, Bill." You shook your head, wiping away the angry and frustrated tears as Bill rested his chin on your head, kissing the top of your head to try and comfort you.
"I know, I know." Bill whispered back, feeling the way out gripped onto his arms and let the tears fall as you were held to his chest.
"I can't go back out." You mumbled out through your tired sobs, your body not letting you do anything else but he held.
"I know, you don't have too." Bill shook his head, running his hand over your hair as he pulled back to look at you.
"It's over. You don't have to do anything." Bill comforted you, his face closer to yours as you wiped your eyes, the anger and the exhaustion all from the months before coming out.
You shook your head, sniffling as you tried to push him towards the door softly.
"You can, you don't have to stay. Go have fun, I'll be okay." You tried to convince Bill, the Kaulitz boy shook his head as he gently grabbed your wrists.
"I'm not going back out there without you, I'm not leaving you." Bill calmly denied, interrupting you as you started to argue back.
"I'm exhausted too. You stayed with me when I wasn't too hot," Bill tried to smile for you, wiping away your tears with his thumbs, cupping your cheek.
"It's my turn to take care of you now." Bill stated, seeing the way you stayed silent but the way your body began to shake a little more, Bill knew he wasn't leaving for anything.
"It's okay, it's over now." Bill whispered into your ear, kissing your temple as he heard another son rack through your form.
Bill knew you as the strongest person he knew, but now you needed him like he needed you when he had his own surgery.
And the way you now wrapped your arms around his neck, he pulled you onto his lap, holding you as you clung to him as an exhausted teen.
Because that's what you were, a teenager with too much on their plate.
So Bill let you hold your arms around his neck, gently sitting on the ground with you and whispering nothing but apologies and comforting words in your ear.
Bill wouldn't leave you, not even when you said you were okay, and now you needed him like he would always need you.
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