#sometimes he remembers the past and maybe he gets scared but not a lot. he’s so happy. he’s not going to lose it. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atinystraynstay · 5 months

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Game Night - Yoon Jeonghan

Synopsis: Jeonghan was the type of guy who joked around, the type to be not so serious. I guess that's why you never took his flirting to be anything more than him trying to get you to laugh. Jeonghan was now determined to make you see differently.

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x fem reader

Genre: friends to lovers! playful competitiveness with Jeonghan

Word Count: 1.8k

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"So, y/n, what are the chances of you letting me be yours for the night?" Jeonghan asked teasingly. "Maybe when you learn to stop cheating at Guess Who!" You groaned.

It was a typical Sunday night for you and Jeonghan. You two always had game nights together, ever since you can remember. Both of you were quite competitive, so you were equal competitors for one another. At this point, most of the members have given up on playing against Jeonghan anyways.

Jeonghan and you had become good friends over the past few years. However, you never believed Jeonghan was into you. He sometimes liked to flirt with people because he thrived on making people feel uncomfortable for a second before making them laugh. He definitely was a trickster.

Recently though, Jeonghan didn't see his flirting towards you as just teasing. He was starting to realize he was starting to like you. More than a friend. It took a lot to scare Jeonghan but what scared him the most was you ever finding out about his little secret. If anything, he amplified his flirting with you to try to keep his crush concealed for a little bit longer.

He was sure he would tell you eventually. He just didn't know when.

"I can't help that you are bad at dropping hints. Seriously, y/n. You make it too easy for me!"

You rolled your eyes at Jeonghan's antics. To anyone, they might find his confidence insufferable. However, to you, you found it endearing. Jeonghan was the man who could be silent when he needed to be, especially when encountering new experiences and new people. When he was comfortable and relaxed, he let his true colors shine.

You were just blessed to be one of the lucky ones who got to experience his entire rainbow.

"Okay, let's actually play this time. Honest and fair." "Honest and fair."

I his mind, the gears were turning. Sure, he wanted to win the game but he had an alternative motive. A lot was on the line.

"Have you selected who I am going to guess right?" You asked challengingly.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes playfully but he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Whenever he was around you, he found himself smiling brighter than ever before. You just managed to pull that side out of him oh so easily.

He also has never encountered someone who was maybe just as competitive as he was.

"Yeah, angel. I'm ready to watch you get frustrated. You're really cute when you get flustered, you know? I always love the way your nose scrunches up and you get a bit red in the face." "That doesn't happen,' you lied. "Oh right, it doesn't when it is with anyone else. I guess I just have that effect over you," he snickered.

You could feel your cheeks heating up the more he spoke. It didn't help he was staring you down with that smug grin on his face.

God, why does he have to be so damn attractive?

"Shut up," you muttered. "Let's just play, ok?"

He leaned back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. He was easily amused by how easily he could make you crumble.

One of the very first things that Jeonghan noticed about you was how independent you were. You weren't afraid to call people out on their bullshit, and always felt the freedom to voice your opinion. You weren't the type of person who needed to rely on others to do something.

It was quite the treat to watch you lose your train of thought if he just looked at you. You often forgot what you were going to say the moment Jeonghan said something flirtatious to you. He almost didn't register the possibility of you liking him back until he noticed how you looked away to try to conceal the wide smile on your lips and pink blush coating your cheeks.

The two of you have been doing this waltz around confessing your feelings for a while now. And frankly, Jeonghan was getting tired of playing that game. He wanted something new.

"Pretty ladies first," Jeonghan announced.

There you go again, blushing at his words. It was almost too easy.

"Does your person have facial hair?"

He took a moment to act as if he he had to think about it. You raised an eyebrow, knowing that he was up to something but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

"Oh come on, Hannie, we just started. There's no way you forgot already who your character is," you teased.

His heart fluttered every time you called him that petname. A lot of people called him Hannie. But when you say it? It was music to his ears. It made him feel all warm and tingly at the prospective of him being exclusively yours and you being all his.

"No, my character doesn't. I was just trying to make you annoyed again," he snickered.

You rolled your eyes but kept a light smile on your lips. Anyone else would be underneath your skin, but he just had this way of finding his antics endearing. Your pointer finger got to work at flipping down the 8 characters you successfully eliminated.

"So, my sweet girl," he began. Oh, here we go. "Does your character have glasses?"

You smirked as he guessed incorrectly. You looked up at him with this look of amusement on your face. Honestly, he has never found you more attractive than when you let your competitive side free. He liked a challenge.

And getting to be your man was his greatest challenge yet.

"No strike, buddy. Better luck next time."

You and Jeonghan continued going back and forth like this for a few rounds. Jeonghan had still had six character cards flipped up, whereas you only had one. You were about to go in for the kill.

"Is your person Charlotte?"

Finally! You beat Jeonghan!

"Oh, I'm sorry. That's incorrect," he smirked.

Your eyes grew wide as they flickered between the game board and Jeonghan. That was impossible. You had literally one character card left. Your eyes narrowed on him as he just sat there with a wide grin on his lips. He had his elbows resting on the table as he watched I amusement.

"You said honest and fair this time," you whined. "And I have been honest! You were asking for my person, and all the things you were asking did not match up with who I selected." "Oh really now? Okay smartass, prove it."

Gladly.

Very slowly, Jeonghan got up to make his way over to you. You raised an eyebrow, but with each step he took towards you, your heart beats faster and harder. What was he doing? You wanted to question him but you were drawn speechless. Again. Only Yoon Jeonghan could make you tongue-tied. It was as if you were glued to your seat too as you watched him make the short journey from his end of the table towards yours.

"I'll describe my person to you. Maybe you accidentally flipped them down."

His voice was now softer, almost deeper. What is going on? All you could do was nod your head, eyes trained on him in anticipation.

"My person also has these eyes that quite literally are like two disco balls. They capture whatever light is reflected into them. I can't even tell you what color their eyes are because I've never see a shade like it before. But it is my favorite color." He had now approached your side the table, leaning against it as he looked down at you. "And just as bright of a smile to match."

You wanted to melt into a puddle before him with how warm and fuzzy he makes you feel by just doing the simplest of things. It wasn't fair.

"My person has long hair. Sometimes they curl it, somewhat they straighten it. Each time though, I want to run my fingers through it."

As he spoke, he lifted on hand to run through your hair. He tucked a few strands behind your ear. His fingertips moved forward until they grazed against your cheek. He didn't miss the opportunity to cup your cheek, keeping your head tilted up towards him so you couldn't look away no matter how badly you got flustered.

"My person also has this infectious laughter that makes me want to know every little joke, every little secret they might have. She also has this adventurous, competitive side of her that is so attractive. I think you two would get along just fine," he winked.

Your lips were slightly parted as you gazed up at him. This had to be a dream, right? There was no way this was actually happening.

"Y/n, you asked for my person. It's been you this whole time," he whispered.

For the first time, he seemed almost at a loss for words. It as if he couldn't believe he actually confessed to you. And now that his feelings were out in the open, he was afraid of the repercussions of being so vulnerable with you. His biggest fear was losing you, and he was afraid he was heading in that direction.

Slowly, you stood up. In fear, Jeonghan removed his hand from your face. Fuck, how can I fix this?

Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and he didn't hesitate to hold your waist. He looked at you with excitement now in eyes, almost like a little boy on Christmas Day. You couldn't help but giggle at how adorable he looked.

"What are you waiting for, Hannie? You've got me where you've always wanted to me," you whispered.

He didn't need to be told twice. Ever so gently, as if you were made out of glass, he pressed his lips against yours. He couldn't fight the smile that grew on his lips. He squeezed your hips affectionately before pulling you in closer. You tilted your head at the right angle to kiss him deeply, without holding back anymore.

The feeling was indescribable. It was a mixture of joy and relief, knowing that years of pining after you finally amounted to this moment. He could really let every emotion, every thought of you free and not just dwell in his mind. And the best part was that it was reciprocated.

You were the one to break the kiss at first but kept your face close to his. You wore a similar goofy smile, just as in disbelief that you kissed not only your best but but the man of your dreams.

"I can't believe you used a board game to confess your feelings to me." "But it looks like I won after all," he smirked.

You rolled your eyes playfully before leaning up to press your lips against his again.

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toothfa-1-ry · 6 months

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METAMORPHOSIS -finnick odair

The capital has a way of messing up with your head. Finnick saw it happen to him, he saw it happen to Peeta and worst of all, he had to see it happen to you too

GENRE: Angst

PAIRING: Finnick Odair x gn reader,

WARNING: PTSD, mental illness and abuse, suicidal thoughts, self harm on Finnick's part, reader want through a lot of psychological abuse and physical abuse, Finnick has panic attacks basically very hunger games coated abuses

A/N: back in for a hot minute with the new release of a the ballad of songbirds and snakes! I seem to be pulled back into the hunger games lol however since it's been a pretty long time since I've read or watch the movies this fic is probably not going to be accurate at all! Also I have no idea how to end this fic so I just did it in a hurry. I don't rlly like how it came out but oh well!

You weren't supposed to get taken away

You weren't supposed to fall back down behind, you weren't supposed to be left behind while Finnick was distracted talking to Katniss.

Finnick wasn't supposed to leave you behind, he was supposed to stay by your side just like he promised. He wasn't supposed to let you be taken away and yet your there stuck in the capitol while he lies with wounds all over his body in the 13 district

It should have been him, he thinks, that maybe if he had switch places with you in that moment, that he was right next to you instead of ahead of you, that he would pulled you towards him, maybe..maybe you would be there next to him.

Maybe you would be lieing next to him, perhaps is bruises and wounds as bad as his but atleast the both of you would be safe in each others arms.

Finnick knows that he should get out of his room. The plain cold room with grey walls seem to surround him on all four sides and yet his grief seems to swallow him as a whole

The ringing sound in his ears continue relentlessly and the tremble in his hands refuse to go. He'd find himself picking his scabbed scars and almost healed wounds and waking up in the dead of night screaming. He finds himself scarring his once golden skin which now seemed rusted with red and all of his old wounds once which was kissed by you being reopened at the dead of night.

He screamed screamed for you, every night and even while he was awake he seemed to be mumbling your name over and over again under his breath. As if believing that if he did so that maybe you'd appear infront of him and tell him it's just a bad dream

Sometimes he'd be forced out of his room, sometimes it's by Haymitch or some other person. He couldn't care less, however he was also a beacon of hope for the people maybe not flaming as bright as Katniss the girl on fire but rather hope like the beach waves hitting the shore

But you were different. You were a different kind of hope, not burning bright and flaming with fumes like Katniss or calm and majestic in all its glory like Finnick but you were like moon.

Hope like the moon in the dark night sky guiding travelers for the past million centuries, sailors, prophets and even kings and helping them find way back to their homes, to their solace. You were the light in the dark, a elegant beam of radiance showing way even to a poor man.

You were Finnick's light. The only thing that helped him see, the only time he felt truly like himself not like the capitols charming prince, or the victor from the 4th district but rather just like plain Finnick. The boy who had golden tan skin, hair dry with salty sea water, the boy who smelled like the sea ans the boy he once was before the capitol got a hold of him.

Like the moon's reflection on the ocean bed in the calm, you were a beam of radiance to him that helped him sleep in night, safe and sound..and loved.

He misses you more than he remembered you. And it scared Finnick.

Being forced out was now a usual thing for Finnick. Being forced to sit in a cafeteria with a plate of food which would go cold and remain uneaten.

He usually stayed alone still away from the others which was unlike him but his mind would be plagued with the last look you gave him, his ears repeating your mortifying scream

Sometimes he'd talk to Katniss. She understood him, after all her Peeta was taken away to just you were taken away. Both Finnick and Katniss blamed themselves more than they should have,

He thinks, at first that he is a little envious of Katniss and the way she looks strong. She holds herself in a way he doesn't. He thinks, how does she do it? How does Katniss remain like a fire burning torch when Peeta the person she adores the most is gone like how you were

But then he hears a familiar voice, he sees a all too familiar face across the tv screen and he is immediately filled with desperation and dread. He looks at Peeta's stoic and unmoving face on the tv screen and he feels the tremble beginning in his hands again.

The capitol couldn't have..could they? They wouldn't have- they couldn't have done it. They didn't kill Peeta but..they seemed to have done something even worser

Finnick's thoughts are left troubled when it was disturbed a loud sound of a metallic plate dropping and a cry of despair

He sees Katniss, her tears and the way her hands fly towards her mouth and try to cover her cry.

Thats when he notices the bags under her eyes and the cuts on her hand. He notices the way her heart sank just like his did and he notices the way Katniss called out Peeta's name. He remembers the way she held him in the games and the way she begged him to live

He thinks, maybe they aren't so different at all.

"he's alive..he's alive" Katniss whispers under her breath and Finnick's holds his, his eyes scan the tv screen scanning for your face whi- and he sees it.

Your face in the background, your hair combed and slicked backed tightly into a bun. Your faced filled with white powdery makeup making you look almost as if you were a corpse. Your eyes seemed scarily full and your lips dry.

But you weren't dead, but you didn't really seem alive either.

The fact that you were alive had a unsettling feeling in Finnick but right now he couldn't care, you were alive and breathing

"y/n" Finnick breaths out as he runs towards the screen with no hesitation. His mind is no longer on Katniss or Peeta or the capitol but at you and your face.

His trembling fingers slowly trace your face as he cries your name out repeatedly, he isn't listening to what Peeta is saying or all the commotion in the back

Your alive.

"they're back! Peeta, Johanna and y/n they- they're back"

Finnick runs faster than he has ever done in his entire life.

Faster than he did in the hunger games or faster than he did from the capitol people after they were done with their business with him in their bedrooms.

He throws down whatever he was holding in his hands, leaves whatever thought was occupying his head and runs faster than he ever did

He doesn't care about whether he hit someone or if he was making too much noise. He cried your name out as he ran calling you, searching for you before opening the door with a bang, his eyes red with tears and trembling body.

He sees you in a wheelchair lying lifelessly in the the chair which held your body.

He doesn't notice the way everyone else in the room looks at him, Haymitch, the doctors or nurses or even Johanna who was sitting in a similar wheelchair a few metres away from you. They way they all immediately stood up straight and their body tense, the way their faces were looking at him with pity

Finnick feels as if though he had stopped breathing, every single bone in his body moves automatically. The tears stream across his golden skin as his hands itch to touch you

All he needs is you. All he needs is your touch, your warmth

He runs towards you unaware of the way you tensed up when you saw him, he shouts your name as his hands stretch out to finally hold you, he begs for forgiveness again and again but finds you shaking instead

"Finnick don't go near her- wait Finnick don't" Beetee's immediate warning fails when you start thrashing against Finnick's touch

"y/n?- y/n my love? What's wrong?" Finnick panics as he tries to calm you down as you shout and scream

Just a few seconds ago you were silent and unmoving refusing to speak but here you were with Finnick, screaming and crying trying to get away from him like he was a monster

"my love please-" Finnick begs as his hands touches your face, the panic in his voice and the tears unhidden from anyone. The despair and regret dripping from his words and unhelpful touches which seem to drive you insane even more

"away! Get away from me! I- get away! away!" You try to push Finnick away but your not that strong. You seem to be repeating the same things again and again but you shake your head and scream even louder than before

"Finnick let go of her- don't Finnick!" Finnick's hears the others shouting at him but he can't let you go, not when you don't even recognise him

"it's me- it's me y/n. It's Finnick your sweetheart" his voice cracks at the nickname you gave him, his eyes search for a second of recognition or even love but your eyes are filled with terror and fear

"y/n it's me! I'm here now! I'm sorry I'm never going to let you go- please y/n..it's me" he begs and pleads you but you don't stop resisting against him even going lengths of hitting him with your hands helplessly

"Finnick let go!" Finnick hears Haymitch shout as he pulls him away from you "she isn't the same y/n you know- the capitol played with her mind"

Finnick feels his entire world go cold, his skin gone numb and his brain feels all muddy. There's a dark deep sinking feeling in his gut as he watches you look at him in complete fear, crawling away from him and into the corner of the room hugging yourself

Finnick takes a few steps towards you but is fiercely pushed away by a agitated Johanna "get the fuck away from her Finnick!"

Johanna glares at Finnick alongside with everyone in the room before she runs to the corner you were sobbing in and cradles you in her arms muttering "don't touch us, don't touch us" again and again.

"what- what do you mean? What's going on?" He turns and looks at the faces in the roomwhich was responded with a nervous glance. Finnick feels his blood boil and his anger consume him

"I said what do you mean" he shouts "what the hell happened" his eyebrows furrowed as he watches Betee struggled to form sentences

"we- we don't know exactly what happened" Betee says as he motions towards you and Johanna who was rocking you in her arms, shooting everyone in the room dirty looks still repeating the same words

"but-"

"but what? what...what happened to my y/n why.. why does she seem afraid of me? Why is she scared-" His voice cracks before he began to sob uncontrollably "why?"

The room goes silent and all that could be heard was Finnick's sobs and yours alongside with Johanna's muttering.

Haymitch walks slowly to Finnick and holds him in the shoulder "I think..you should sit down somewhere while we talk about this" he says grimly as he turns around and gives looks at the rest of the people in the room to give them some space

Finnick's breathing is shallow as he listens to Betee. The more he listens the more he wishes that he were dead, that it was all fake. He wishes even more that it was him who was taken into the capitol and regret and anger fills him up

"the capitol obviously wasn't going to let it slide, I mean y/n she- she was the capital's sweetheart. She was one of their favourite victor and seeing her being a part of the uprising? Snow would have never let her or any of them for the fact go unscarred but, we never expected this much"

Betee continues in a whisper, he stops every 2 minutes and looks at Finnick to say something but Finnick would always remain silent and unmoving.

"Johanna she- she's developed this insane fear of water- she was drowned multiple times by the capital and Peeta he..he was also brainwashed. He has developed this insane hatred for Katniss."

"and y/n?" Finnick finally broke his silence "what did they do to her?" You could hear the desperation leaking from his voice, his voice at the verge of breaking

Betee seemed to be hesitant to say, often refusing to make eye contact with Finnick but he sighed and looked straight at him

"y/n was strapped. She was strapped into this machine and they kept on fiddling with her memories. She couldn't differentiate with what was real and what wasnt. They inserted this entire new plot into her head which she now believes some parts of it to be true"

Finnick breathing stopped, a chill ran down his spine as he internally begged that it was not what he was thinking of

Betee looks up to Finnick with sadness and guilt painted in his eyes, he didn't want to break it to Finnick this way. He knew how much it would hurt him

"Finnick" Haymitch says instead, choosing to be the one to break the news to Finnick "y/n, she's scared of you. Just like how Peeta has developed hate for Katniss, y/n has developed fear towards you."

A all too familiar feeling came over Finnick. He was where he was in the beginning. He was nothing but a monster, a killer, a damaged product before you came along and showed him a new path but he had to ruin everything. He had to break you too, he had to ruin you too, it was all his fault

Panic engulfed Finnick as it hit his very core, today was the day he got you back and yet today was also the day he seemed to have forever lost you

"but-" he trembles as he talks "but why- what did they show her? What did I do to her" his breathing becomes fast

"it's not your fault" Haymitch says as Betee nods his head "we're trying to figure that out right now"

"is it only me?" Finnick's blood shot eyes pierce Betee's "am I the only person she's scared of?"

"she's scared of everything and everyone except for Johanna. Johanna was the only one who was there to comfort her but Johanna herself isn't in the right mind right now either" Betee replies

"oh" Finnick's voice is empty and hollow, he doesn't want to ask the question but it seems inevitable "will she ever stop being scared of me?"

Finnick is scared of Betee's answer, his heart hammered agains his chest in panick "do you think..I can get her back?"

Betee purses his lips as he continues "it won't ever be the same Finnick. Y/n.. whatever they implanted in her head has been recognised as real to her now but if we keep on pressing on with the truth maybe" he looks hopefully at Finnick "maybe you could get a piece of her back, not fully but a fragment of her"

"I just..I just want her, I don't care if it's a piece of her or whatever. I just..I want her to be okay"

Betee just nods his head wordlessly as he watches Finnick break down. Right infront of him was probably the strongest person he ever knew, he watched him during his games, watched him become victor and knew everything he went through but he never saw Finnick this broken.

"I'm going to get her back" Finnick says "if that's the last thing I ever do I swear, she's going to be okay"

#hunger games x reader #the hunger games #finnick imagine #finnick odair #thg finnick #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick fics #hunger game x reader #hunger games #peeta mellark #thg peeta #thg series #thg fic #coriolanus snow #snow #district 4

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 1 month

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The Kumquat (The Surprise, Part 4)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, fluff on fluff on fluff, some references to past sexual trauma (nothing graphic), a Pap smear (aka the WORST medical exam and I will stand by that) Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It's Emily's first non-local case since finding out you were pregnant, and you're both struggling. Especially because it means she'll have to miss you first prenatal appointment–and the first sound of your baby's heartbeat. Maybe there's still a way to share the moment, though...

Week 10: The Kumquat

Your heart beat wildly as you pulled into the parking lot of the OBGYN’s office. You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans and checked your phone. Nothing. You groaned and rubbed your forehead.

You had a hard time with doctors, particularly with gynecologists–a stubborn remnant of past trauma. Emily knew that. Emily knew it was your first appointment and that you’d be scared. She’d wanted to come along; she would have asked all the questions you'd forget.

But duty called. It always did. You’d gotten lucky over the last month since finding out you were pregnant. The BAU hadn’t caught any huge cases and, even the cases they did catch had been local enough that Emily still made it home to you most nights. But, of course, your luck had run out.

You were angry with Emily for leaving, but you knew that was unreasonable. This is what you’d signed up for. Her job was important to her. It was important to you. The fact that she was so passionate about and dedicated to her team and the work they did was one of the things you loved most about her. You were always sad to see her leave and, yes, sometimes frustrated when she had to miss things you’d planned together, but at the end of the day, you knew she loved you, and that was all that mattered.

But this time. This time you were struggling. You tried not to take it out on Emily too much; it wasn’t her fault that your hormones were going wild. You were more everything than usual. More angry at her for leaving, more sad while she was gone, more terrified of going to the doctor.

You glared at your message-less phone for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and texting Emily.

Headed into the OBGYN🤞 I wish you were here. Be safe love 💗

You waited a few minutes with no response, taking a deep breath to swallow your rage. For all you knew, she could be in a bulletproof vest trying to talk down a murderer right now. She loves you, you reminded yourself. If she could be here, she would.

In the office, you were assaulted with the smell of rubbing alcohol and Lysol. You filled out what felt like a full novella of personal and family medical history. When they finally called you back, you felt like a science experiment–poked and prodded and measured. When the doctor pulled out the stirrups, you flinched.

“Is that necessary?” you asked.

She nodded at you. “Sorry. It’s just been long enough since your last Pap smear that I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

You hated it. Hated the whole process, you always did. It was painful and invasive and it made you remember things you’d really rather not remember. Emily usually went with you, to let you squeeze her hand and to whisper that it was okay, you were safe.

You clenched and felt tears prick at your eyes as the cold metal forced its way into you. Hands gripping at the paper covering the seat, you tried your very best to imagine Emily’s voice, her face, the smell of her hair. And you tried not to feel too furious that she wasn’t there. It’s not her fault, you repeated like a mantra.

They took some blood, they asked about running tests to screen for the baby’s health.

“Yes,” you said. “Run all of them.”

“The good news,” the doctor continued, “about these tests is that you also get to find out the gender earlier if that’s something you want.”

You knew you’d need to talk to Emily about it, but part of you didn’t want to know. Emily stubbornly calling the baby he, so sure was she that it was a boy, and you calling the baby she out of pure spite, had become an endearing part of your pregnancy to you. You might just rather be surprised.

“Now for the fun part!” the doctor said, clapping her hands together. “Would you like to try and find the heartbeat?”

Your stomach fluttered with excitement. “Really!? Isn’t it too early?”

“Sometimes we can hear it early with Doppler.”

You nodded vigorously, lifting up your shirt. It was the only time in your life you’d voluntarily had a doctor examine you.

She pressed the device to your lower belly, searching for sound. You waited rapt, barely breathing, so scared were you that you’d miss it.

But then: a whooshing sound and a quick, urgent, pattering heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat. You grinned wide.

“That’s her?” you asked, giddy.

The doctor nodded.

You felt like crying, from pure joy, but also because you wished Emily was here. She would be so sad, so sad, to have missed this. But maybe you could bring the heartbeat to her.

You took out your phone. “Can I record this?” you asked. “I want to send it to my wife.”

“Of course,” the doctor said.

You pressed the record button on your Voice Memos, and recorded a good thirty seconds of the baby’s heartbeat, knowing that Emily would listen to it again and again and again.

When you finally left the office, proud of yourself, you hopped in the car and checked your phone. Still nothing. You sent off another text to Emily.

Must be a hard day. ❤️Here’s something to cheer you up! 👶🏻🫀I miss you. Call when you can.

Later that night, as you lay in bed reading, your phone started buzzing. You smiled wide. Emily.

“Good evening, Agent Prentiss,” you joked.

“The heartbeat!” she squealed, so loud you had to hold the phone away from your ear.

You grinned and gushed. “Isn’t it the most beautiful heartbeat you’ve ever heard!?”

“Yes! After yours, of course.”

“Wow, you’re laying it on thick.”

“I’ve got a lot to make up for.” Emily sounded genuinely sad. “Honey, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“It’s okay,” you said, most of your anger dissipating the moment the words I’m sorry left her mouth.

“It’s not okay. I should’ve been there. You hate going to the doctor, and it’s our baby. It’ll get easier after we tell my team. Then I can take a step back.”

“It’s really okay, Em.”

She sighed, and you could tell there was nothing you could say that would alleviate her guilt. She’d carry it with her until she was home again, until she could scoop you up and hold you and take care of you the way she wanted to.

“Was everything okay? With you and Little Kumquat?”

“Kumquat looks good. Healthy as a horse. I–” You thought about the Pap smear, the taste of metal seeping into your mouth. “I’m okay, too.”

“You’re lying.” Emily’s voice shifted, now deep and concerned. “Y/N, what happened?”

“I’m not lying!” Sometimes you really hated being married to a profiler.

Emily grew more panicked. “Is something wrong? Honey, do I need to come home?”

“No! Em, it’s just…” You sighed, picking at your fingernails. “They had to do a Pap smear.”

The line was quiet for a moment before Emily spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, honey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shaky, afraid if you tried to say more you might start crying.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I know how hard those are for you.”

You stayed quiet, willing yourself not to cry. Emily felt guilty enough; you crying would make it ten times worse.

“Listen, I’m at a hotel tonight, okay? I’ll have my phone by me all night. I know sometimes you get nightmares after, so just call me if you wake up, okay?”

“Emily, you don’t have to do that,” you said softly. “You need sleep.”

“I won’t sleep one wink if I’m worried about you all night, so promise me you’ll call.”

“Okay. I promise.”

“Thank you. Ugh, Rossi’s waving me over. I gotta go, but I love you so much, and I miss you every second, and I can’t wait to get home to you.”

“I love you, too.”

You slept with your phone on the pillow next to you that night, and it wasn’t the same as having Emily there, especially when you woke up gasping in a cold sweat. But her voice lulling you back to sleep was pretty close, and you were so, so glad to have her–even from far away.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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sidewalk-cracks · 1 year

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okay everybody, listen up, because I need to talk about Edward Elric. I've started watching fmab and I am losing my mind over this boy. There's so many incredible things about this kid; he's such an incredible protagonist.

the realism of Ed is so painfully wonderful- this is a fifteen year old child. Remember what you were like when you were fifteen? Yeah? Fifteen is so young. This is a child who's had to grow up WAY too fast and has been through so many unspeakable things, but he's still a kid and he actually ACTS like it. He gets irritable over small things and acts "childish" when he's excited and has that touch of arrogance a teen gets when they know they're important.

Ed gets scared. He's not like a lot of your "unshakable" shounen protagonists, who, when faced with something shocking in a fight, eyes only widen and mouth only frowns and they only worry a little and maybe ask for an explanation. No, Ed is a kid and he gets scared. Sometimes he handles fights well, but sometimes he freezes. When Scar found him and Al, when he hurt Al and tore out Ed's arm and pursued relentlessly in the rain, standing over Ed as Ed writhed on the ground, Ed screamed for his brother and froze in his fear and thought he was about to die then.

He's so fifteen in everything- in his anger and his arrogance, in his fear, in his trauma, in his reverence of life. Ed is at the age when your eyes truly start to open to reality and society, though given his past he probably started earlier. But he holds life so preciously, so closely, cradles it in his arms and declares over and over again that it is one thing he will not trample, will not hurt. That fifteen-year-old conviction and the leftover naivety from childhood, paired with the newer discovery of just how sacred, how beautiful and important life is.

He's fifteen in his love. You ever been around teenagers, especially today's teenagers, and you know they do everything fiercely, most things boldly, and Ed screams it in his love. In his protection of Al, his absolute dedication and protection to the one person he has left, can hold close. He's a teenager in their banter but such an eldest sibling in every way- in his drive to protect Al from anything, everything he can, in his leadership, in his fear of losing his sibling.

Ed is such a real person, such a real kid. He's incredibly mortal, unlike a lot of op shounen protagonists. He hits his head and it bleeds. He gets impaled and struggles to stand at all. Every time he's injured we see him recovering in the hospital after. He has nightmares from his fear of failure, about Al and his mother and Nina. He's smart but not indestructible. He's incredibly earnest about his convictions, earnest about the beauty of life, just like a teen.

Edward Elric is probably the most realistic anime teen I've ever seen, and I love him SO much

#forgive me if there's anything in here that later episodes might contradict #I'm only on episode 15 #i just have a whole lot of feelings about this kid and i needed to get them out #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fma #fmab #edward elric #fma brotherhood #fma edward #character analysis

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icycoldninja · 2 months

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Angsty Sephiroth headcannons

-Severe insomniac; needs to take 3 sleeping pills a night just to nod off, and even then, he's a light sleeper, so the slightest sounds can wake him.

-Doesn't drink often, but when he does, he gets very drunk and emotional.

-Cries a lot in private, especially when reminiscing his past or flipping through his old photo album with all his pictures of his dead friends.

-He still celebrates Genesis and Angeal's birthdays, all by himself. He gets a cake and lights candles, and sings happy birthday to the wall. Then he eats the cake all alone and drinks beer until he passes out.

-Has frequent, intense night terrors that keep him up when his insomnia doesn't. More often than not, the two forces work together to torment him till morning.

-Uses a lot of makeup to hide his dark, puffy eyebags, and even then they're still sort of visible if you look closely.

-Feels tired and unmotivated 80% of the day; it takes almost all of his mental strength just to get out of bed.

-Braids his hair before bed because it gives him something to focus on so he doesn't have to listen to all his own disturbing thoughts.

-Insecure about himself, and everything about himself, from his personality to his looks.

-Severe abandonment issues--he fears that you will leave him because of all his mental baggage, but is too afraid to talk to you about it.

-Sometimes holds you too tight because he fears you'll dissappear and leave him all alone.

-If you ever get a nightmare, he will squeeze you to the point of almost breaking your ribs. He does this because he remembers when he was young and scared, that was all he ever wanted.

-Is very depressed, tries not to show it, but you can see it anyway. This normally happens after a long day or when he has too much to drink. He needs a hug and maybe a kiss or two. Give it to him.

#Ffvii #Ff7 #Sephiroth #Sephiroth x reader #Angst #angst headcanons #headcannons #Sad and short #icycoldninja writes #Final fantasy 7 #Ffvii sephiroth #Ff7 sephiroth #Final fantasy 7 sephiroth #Sephi needs comfort #Give it to him ffs

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e-m-ma-lmfao · 6 months

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hi! i literally love how you write❤️

could you write a fluff with a little bit of nsfw (if you dont take nsfw requests, just do it all fluff, i love fluff so i doesnt bother me) with a fem reader x cloud?

here's how i want the story, but you can obviosuly change it to your preferences.

y/n was a childood friend of cloud,and she didnt see him in A LOT of years. then she encounters him and they basically talk about rhe the good old times. a month passes and it's y/n's birthday, they all celebrate at the bar and give y/n a present. then it's cloud turn to give her the present, and he gives her a boquet and a letter with some photos from much years ago. after that, he kisses her and she kisses back. after the birthday party, cloud was a little bit drunk so y/n took him at her house to take care of him and cloud gets all clingy and says things to y/n. (if you want to add some nsfw, you can add it in this part of the story)

thank you❤️

Happy Birthday Slowpoke

pairing : cloud strife x fem! reader

description : an unexpected reunion leads to birthday wishes, unspoken love confessions, and drunken kisses.

warnings : small make out sesh but no smut, drinking alcohol (clouds gets drunk)

Sector 7 gets quieter at night. Never silent. But quiet. Walking through the streets is much nicer at night when there aren't so many people pushing to get through. It’s easier to think. Easier to take in your surroundings.

There’s a certain hum that brings you comfort as you walk through the nearly empty streets. You remember when you first came to Sector 7, nervous and scared, and still dealing with the aftershock of Nibelheim.

Nibelheim. Cloud.

God. How was he still stuck so deep in your head after years?

You missed him. Him and his stupid blond hair.

It was embarrassing how fast your head would turn at the sight of any blond man. Any. Even children sometimes. You had to catch a second glance to make sure you hadn’t just seen your childhood friend run past you as he giggled with his friends. It was never him, but you hoped.

The peace of your walk was disturbed by a man walking past you. Bright blond hair fluff led up like the feathers of a chocobo in black clothes, and heavy footsteps. He pays you no mind as he walks past you, but you force yourself to do a double take.

But this man is different. Even with his back turned to you he feels familiar. His hair stands up, the way Clouds did when he was a child. He’s dressed in the garb of a SOLDIER with a big sword on his back, Clouds always promised he’d become a SOLDIER. And he even walks the same way Cloud would as a kid, trudging along his path, god forbid someone think of him as anything but independent.

It all feels too coincidental. And without thinking your lips open to speak, “Cloud?”

“Hm?” The man turns, only his head and shoulder so as to not pay you too much care, to face you. And your mind is flooding with nostalgia.

You're running after a young boy, blond haired, breathless laughs leave yours and his mouths.

“Cloud!!! Wait for me!!” You squeal after the older

boy whose legs carry him much faster than you can keep up with. And your tired legs, mixed with your lack of available air, are making it harder to match his pace.

For a minute you think he doesn’t hear you, or maybe, that he doesn't want to listen. But soon enough he skids to a stop, looking back at you as he pants lightly. He wears a stupid smile on his face, cheeks flushed.

“Sorry y/n.. I keep forgetting I’m too fast for you. Your little legs can’t keep up,” He teases and lets out a juvenile giggle.

Finally you meet his side, matching his breath, “They can so!”.

“Yeah right slow poke.” A childlike pout appears on your face, fitting for an 8 year old you. Always pouting. Always following after Cloud.

You were never really sure why Cloud kept you around. But when you were kids, it never really mattered for more than a second. You just liked being around him, and him you.

“It’s not fair. You're older, your legs are longer!” He smiles down at you, laughing between heavy breaths.

“Only a year older.”

“Still!” He stays quiet for a minute, letting you catch your breath without teasing you further.

When you finally straighten back up, he’s still showing a giddy smile on his lips. Without a word, he grabs your hand in his, and takes off running the same way he had been before. Only this time you can keep up with him, pulled behind him.

“Cloud!”

“Hm?” He turns to look behind him, a wide smile full of teeth on his face and eyes bright and blue. Still hopeful.

His eyes meet yours and you realize the same blue eyes are looking into yours, only they are tired and the hope of his youth has been long gone. Yours probably look the same, usually. But right now they are wide and beginning to tear up. And his pupils, blown in recognition, are nearly as wide as yours.

“Y/n?”

“Cloud!” In an instant you latched onto him, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Your face squished against his hard chest, probably wetting the front of his tank top from the tears slipping from your eyes.

He’s hesitant, but eventually one hand lands on your back and the other grabs onto your waist, pulling you in impossibly closer to his body. When you were kids, hugs were nothing out of the ordinary, but this one feels so different. You’ve been longing to hug him since you were 13, longing to see him since you were 17.

It’s overwhelming, the amount of emotion flowing through your body. You're happy to see your best friend again. You're sad that you haven’t seen him in so long. And you're angry that he left without ever saying goodbye.

“Y..you.. are you real?”

You look up to find his voice, wiping away the wetness from your face. His hands move to touch your face, then to your shoulders and finally fall to his sides.

“Yes, Cloud. I'm real. When..how.. It’s been years Cloud.”

“I know.”

There are a million things you’d like to say to him. You’d like to scream at him and punch at his chest until he bruises, not likely you could hit him hard enough to leave any marks but you’d try. But then you want to hug him, and run through the streets with him hand and hand like when you were kids. You don’t know what to say to him, where to start, or if you even should.

“I missed you.”

“I know.” He doesn’t say it back, and the lack of emotion that he shows is almost aggravating. But you don’t make it known to him how annoyed you are at him for his underwhelming reaction to this reunion.

You invite him back to your apartment and, with a lot of convincing no and many ‘pleases’, he agrees to join you for an hour tops. His hesitancy hurts your feelings, you don’t admit that to him though, god forbid he realize that you hadn’t changed much since you were young. Since he clearly had.

“You can sit down, you know.” He raises his brows, your acknowledgment of his awkwardness unexpected, but he takes a seat at your small table. The chair he sits in is the perfect size for you, and while he’s not the tallest man you’ve ever encountered, he almost seems to not fit on it.

He is so silent, it stirs up years of pent up sadness and frustration deep within you, and inside you deeper still a fury of anger festers. But you push it away, locking those emotions up for another night when you haven’t just stumbled into your best friend of 10 years after 4 years of being apart. And you offer him a drink.

“Are you gonna tell me what you’ve been up to for the last 4 years?” He is silent, stoic, hides his face by taking a sip from the glass of water you offered him.

“Not tonight.” Your teeth grind together inside your mouth, holding back your tongue from spewing words better left unsaid. He must see the clench in your jaw, the anger and disappointment in your eyes, “But another time. I will.”

You fill the rest of the night with slow, and awkward, conversation. He doesn't make much effort to initiate it, but he answers your earnest questions without any complaint. At least the ones that don’t involve his work, his past, his lack of a goodbye. So the night moves slowly.

It doesn’t feel like very long has passed at all by the time he tells you he has to leave.

“Already?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, my days are busy.”

“Are you staying in Sector 7?” He nods, you're not appreciating this strong and silent thing he has going on.

“Working?” Another nod. “Well..if you find yourself free next month, we’re celebrating my birthday at the Seventh Heaven..uh.. it’s Tifa's bar actually.!”

“I know.”

“Oh.. yeah I guess, you would’ve gone to see her.”

“I didn’t go t- .. I’m sorry. I should go.” He walks to the door, posture straight and stoic expression broken by a look of pity for just a moment. You walk him out.

You can’t help yourself from speaking as your eyes meet his back, your mind is lacking in self restraint tonight, “Will you come?”

He faces you, mouth parted before a small smile plants itself there, “I’ll try, y/n, goodnight.” And he’s gone into the night with quickened steps.

“Hey! Have some faith in him. I’m sure he’ll make it.” Tifa leans over the counter with a bright smile, sliding a drink into your hands.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

The bar isn’t full, but the people that matter are here, most of them anyway.

Biggs and Wedge, probably already tipsy based on the volume they're producing, are playing darts in the corner. Barret sits on the other end of the bar, Marlene seated beside him as they whisper between each other. And Tifa stands in front of you, a positive grin lingering on her face.

“Y/n!” Marlene springs off the barstool, with the help of her father, and rushes over to you with a clumsily wrapped gift in her hands.

“For me? Well thank you, Marlene.” You smile down at her, gently taking the gift from her hands and unwrapping it to find a bracelet made of beads and charms.

“I made it for you. And I have one too! See?” She holds up her wrist, which you hadn’t realized was hidden behind her back, to show you the matching bracelet she wears. You lift into your arms, holding her in a tight hug.

“They’re perfect Marlene, thank you.”

With her still in your arms, you resume conversation with Tifa, and are promptly joined by Barret. You love them, like family of course. But you are so focused on the lack of Clouds presence that you forget to fully no appreciate the ones around you.

Tifa reaches behind her, into the fridge and pulls outs an obviously homemade cake. “We decorated it together,” She slides a wink Marlene’s way and begins lighting the candles. “Make a wish y/n.”

You think for a moment, it’s childish that you're hoping for your wish to work so genuinely, but you take a deep breath and blow out your candles with a heavy breath. One sweep.

“What’d you wish for y/n?” Marlene’s voice is loud beside you.

“Hey now.. you know the rules, I can’t tell you or else it won’t come true.” She pouts for a minute but her smile quickly returns when Tifa hands her a piece of cake. You take your own piece in your hands, sharing a smile with Tifa and Marlene.

“Hey man! Good to see you. Glad you could make it.”

Your eyes are moving faster than you can focus on the sound of Biggs’ words, finding the one person your wish standing in the doorway. In his hands he holds a bouquet, flowers of your favorite colors wrapped with paper and a pink bow.

He approaches you with a sheepish smile on his face, “Sorry I’m late. I didn’t know what to get you as a gift, I hope I got the colors right. Oh! And there’s this,” He reaches into his back pocket and hands you a sealed envelope. On its cover, your name is written in messy writing.

“These are ..beautiful, Cloud, thank you.”

“Drink?” Tifa is cheery, as always, if not more so.

“Yeah, thanks.” He takes a seat beside you and you try to hide the way your eyes linger on him. The muscles in his grown arms. The familiarity of his spiky hair. You're not so angry anymore, now that you've had time to process his return, rather longing for the relationship you had as kids. The closeness you’d been lacking in your friendships since he left.

“Are you gonna open it?”

“What?” His voice brings you back to the moment, and you realize you’ve been ogling at him.

“The envelope..”

“Oh! Yeah, right. Yeah.”

You reach for it and carefully open it, trying not to rip the paper too badly. Tucked inside the envelope is a photo of the two of you as children and a folded up letter, reading :

This is stupid. But I tried to write something so I wouldn’t have to say all this out loud.

I haven’t been around for a long time, so I don’t really know where we stand anymore. But as far as I know, you’ve been the only person I’ve been able to open up to about everything.

Without you, I probably would’ve spent my childhood alone.

When we were kids, I swore I’d be a SOLDIER. But to be honest it wasn’t all I thought it would be. And I’m sorry I left you for shinra.

And I know I should’ve said goodbye, and I probably hurt you when I left. But I’m here now, and I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

You were my best friend or you are my best friend, doesn't matter.

Happy Birthday Slowpoke.

He looks at you intensely as he tries to gauge your reaction. It’s a simple letter, and could be written by a child with a little effort. But it’s Cloud, and it’s the most you can ask from a man like him. It still has your hands wiping at your eyes.

“Hey, did you make her cry? No crying on your birthday!” Tifa returns, leaning over the counter to slide Cloud his drink, looking over at you. “Y’alright?”

“Yeah I’m okay. I’m really good actually, thank you.. for this, Cloud”.

He nods, and you swear his cheeks redden, but he looks away before either you or Tifa can comment on it.

Cloud's drink is gone in moments, and he is asking for another, whilst making comfortable conversation with you. A ‘happy birthday’ ‘how’s your day been’ ‘what do you do for work now’ kind of comfortable. He doesn’t ask anything personal, does not dwell on the past, you almost wish he would.

But you indulge him and his calculated questions, being satisfied with any conversation at all, and let the night flow.

It doesn't take long to realize that Cloud is not a drinker, or at least that he does not know his limits. It’s dark out now, and music plays from the jukebox, and Cloud sways drunkenly to a song. You can’t help but laugh, whilst also feeling weird seeing him be so free and not high strung. Not a SOLDIER, just a man.

He stands up, grabbing onto your arm to pull you over in front of the jukebox where Wedge is dancing with Tifa.

“Careful Cloud!” You stumble after him, bumping into his chest as he pulls you. He doesn’t seem to notice, grabbing onto your hands to spin you and move you around.

“You're a pretty good dancer now,” He moves you to face him, moving to the music still with a goofy smile on his face, “Do you remember.. when we..when we were kids and you would step on my feet ..everytime we danced.”

You giggle at his slurred words, “You're so drunk right now.”

“And you’re ..sso pretty..” He moves in closer, close enough that you can smell the liquor lingering on his lips.

“Oh wow.. you're really drunk.. haha.” You make no effort to move away from him, but you laugh at his actions to relieve the awkwardness flowing from your body.

“Mhm..” He closes the gap and places his lips against yours. Your hands find his chest, eyes falling close as you kiss him back. Your self control is weak, and you want to keep his lips against yours. But he's drunk, and your head is starting to spin.

Somehow you find the strength to push him away and he moves away with a pout on his puffy lips.

“Let’s.. uh.. get you home, yeah?”

“But I’m having fun!” He attempts to spin you, but he ends up making himself dizzy, “Actually, yeah.. that’s probably a good idea.”

“Yeah.” You laugh at his flushed face, holding onto his arm as you say goodbye to everyone and leave the bar.

“Can we go to yours?” He doesn't let go of you, even after you’ve walked halfway down an empty Sector 7 road, but he has instead moved his grip to hold your hand to keep you close to him.

“My apartment?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah..yeah sure.” He leads you to your own apartment like he knows the route by heart, he’s only been there once and yet he acts like he lives there by the speed he finds it.

Once inside he collapses onto your bed, not much space in the apartments, so you suppose that was normal considering there was no couch.

“Do you want some water?” He shakes his head, laying on his back to stare up at the ceiling.

You move towards the stereo on the opposite wall, turning on the radio so there is noise for you to focus on instead of his arms as they rest underneath his head.

“I missed you too .. y'know.” Clouds words barely make their way to you, his voice quiet and music humming just loud enough.

“Hm?” You turn to face him, moving to sit on the ledge of the bed in front of where he lays.

“The night I saw you,” He leans on his elbow to hold himself up, “you said that you missed me. and I didn’t say it back. I did. I missed you. I just didn’t know what to say to you then.”

You don’t say anything, you're not sure what to say anyways.

He looks into your eyes for a few minutes before pulling you by your arm so you lay beside him, but he shifts positions so he holds himself above you with his hands.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His lips meet yours once more. But unlike the bar this kiss is calculated, not clumsy and childish. He is drunk, and it’s obvious by the taste that remains on his lips even after he has licked them clean multiple times.

Your fingers find his hair, his knee finds its way between your legs and your chest begins to move quicker. He moves to latch his lips onto your neck, sucking spots that will definitely be purple and red tomorrow, while his hands find their place under your shirt on your hips.

And while you’d love for Cloud to continue his journey, the fact remains that he is drunker than a teenager on their 18th birthday, and you want this moment to be one enjoyed sober. So you pull his head up to meet his eyes, and very puffy lips.

“Your drunk Cloud. I think we better save this for another night.”

He pouts, face flushed, but he nods with a sigh. Getting comfy he finds a place to rest his head, on your chest, but his hands don’t move from your skin. If anything you feel his grip tighten, keeping you close as he practically lays on top of you.

“I missed you, a lot. I thought I'd never see you again when you left.” Your fingers find his hair once more, rubbing at his scalp and playing with blond strands.

“I know. I didn’t think I’d see you either.”

The room is quiet, except for the soft hum of music flowing from the stereo. His fingers tense and relax again in sync with his slow breaths, moving to trace the softness of your skin. But eventually his movements stop and he seems to still.

“Cloud?”

There are still a million things you’d like to ask, like to say. And so many years of words you’d like to catch up on between him, months of love confessions that you had admitted to Tifa that you’d like to share with him. But the soft snores that begin to leave his mouth tell you he’s in no mood to talk right now.

“Goodnight soldier..”

#cloud strife x reader #cloud strife #cloud ff7 #fem reader #ff7 #drabble #oneshot #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy

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vivgst · 3 months

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COD Headcanons

I mean they're not hc it's just shit I think they say/do but I needed the title okay?

As I previously said this is just my silly little opinion, I would love to read yours but don't take this too personal and I'm saying this cause Imma bout to write SHIT about two characters and I'm scared cause they're loved by the whole fandom.

Okay thats all thanks<3333

Let's start with my favorite piece of shit, shall we?

Alejandro Vargas

I don't care what yall say this man is a CHEATER and he would make you feel guilty about it too because you're not "meeting his needs".

“I’m not sexist???? We cannot do the same things, it's basic biology!”

Maybe he's good in bed, let's give him that.

Alain meza said he loved Rudy so let's assume he's bi, uh... he wouldn't admit that shit, not in a million years, probably would get offended if you even dare to suggest it.

He doesn’t argue to fix things, he argues to repeat how much in the right he is, I feel like he NEVER admits he’s in the wrong, he seems very stubborn.

Now can we address that fucking temper of his? Breathe mf, no ones gonna die if you stop yelling for a second.

I feel like he must’ve had A LOT of trouble when he just joined the army because of his anger issues, think about it for a moment: someone with a higher rank yelling at him and you think he just took it? I doubt it.

MUST HAVE fought with Valeria more than once cause that temper of hers is just as shitty.

I promise I don’t hate him, well I do but he’s one of my favs, I don’t know how to explain this bye.

Simon Riley

He’s very chill I love him <3

I think of him like a very nostalgic man, he thinks a lot about his past, past lovers, past experiences, when he was new in the army, you know? Not in a “I’m still traumatized” way, he’s just nostalgic.

He’s absent minded, he’s always daydreaming (when he’s not doing something important ofc).

Thin and I don’t fucking care, THAT MAN IS THIN, you can even see it sometimes!!!! He’s got chicken legs, I love them.

He really seems to enjoy dad jokes.

He cares a lot about his teammates and I love it, it’s very cute.

Can we talk about how everyone put him as a fucking beast in bed? I don't see it, I think he's ruthless when he needs to but I don't think this applies when it comes to sex, he suffered a lot too and sadly I know too well that sex is pretty fucking terrible after rape, especially because you feel like you're gonna hurt the person you're having sex with so...

John MacTavish

Typa guy everyone loves, even your dad and your grandma's always saying how handsome he is.

Maybe he was bullied bc of his accent but he just told them to go fuck themselves.

Caring and loving, buys his partner flowers and their favorite candy/chocolates/desserts.

Remembers anniversaries, birthdays, medical or school appointments.

Too charismatic and funny.

Kyle Garrick

He’s too good for his own good… I feel like he always end up going out with INSANE people, the jealous type, they’re always bitching and making him angry and stressed but he forgives them cause he’s an angel.

Very sweet, loves cooking for people he loves.

Kinda family oriented.

He smells good, I can almost smell his perfumeeeeee he smells good, he spends MONEY on it too.

Even the devil is afraid of him when he’s mad.

I think he's very private about his life in general, doesn't like to vent his problems.

Hot lover.

John Price

Now this man is a FATHER, my fucking dad I swear.

He seems pretty conservative to me, not in a bad way like he wants you to be his personal maid and slave, more like he wants to date to marry, hates casual sex.

Loves whiskey.

Dad energy, he would be so caring and loving with his child, he would give that baby the moon.

I don’t think he would love to date a younger woman, not a woman in her twenties at least, I think he would be into women his age.

If you feel disappointment by that, maybe you could try fixing your relationship with your dad, sweetheart ;).

Hates confrontation and loves to work things out.

Let’s not talk about how sex with be with the old man, okay? Thanks.

He's not that old, I get that but he looks like he's fucking 68.

Phillip Graves

He looks kinda daddy in that pic, not gonna lie.

“How come you don’t want to have sex? What about me? Have you thought about how that makes me feel? If your head hurts, sex would help but you never consider me, I’ll sleep in the couch”.

A selfish, self-centered bitch, only thinks about himself.

Feeling good having sex with him? Aw baby, try again cause this mf would use you like a damn toy and he couldn’t care less about your feelings or how much pain you’re in.

Cheater, he wouldn’t even be quiet about it. “Oh you want to divorce me? And where are you gonna go, sugar? You’re nothing without me”.

Doesn’t fucking know where the clit is, he doesn’t have a fucking clue.

Of course straight, loves to be white and American.

“Of course I can say whatever I want, I’m from America I have freedom of speech”.

Fuck you graves.

Rodolfo Parra

Perfect.

He seems so sweet and kind and considerate I love him.

Smart as hell, probably got the best grades when he was a kid.

Doesn’t hate anyone, no one hates him.

Loves nature and animals but he can’t enjoy it too much cause he is always busy.

Dreams about having a big family and a dog (a golden, probably).

Forget about having rough sex UNLESS he’s mad (fr mad like losing his shit but that doesn’t happen frequently).

Could be a teacher if he wasn’t in the army, he’s very patient and can explain things easily.

Have a pretty smile.

Valeria Garza aka MAMI

Feels like she needs to prove something, she was underestimated for so long in the army that now she’s always trying to prove to herself how badass and good at her job she is.

Almost no one knows the real Valeria, her favorite things, music taste, if she prefers cold or hot, coffee or tea etc.

She hates cold weather with all her MIGHT.

Likes to smoke only when she’s stressed.

Likes animals but thinks they’re so much work and she doesn’t have the time.

Did drugs once and hated it.

Feels guilty when she spots a church but she WOULD NEVER admit this shit to anyone.

Used to the worst of life so she didn’t like when someone is kind with her, is like “tf am I supposed to do with it???” but she gets used to it eventually.

I don’t think she has anger issues but def she doesn’t fucking know how to regulate her emotions, she lets stress take over her.

She would love a narcowife, kind of woman who wears a lot of beachy dresses and have a shitty personality like her (like Kate del Castillo in La Reina del Sur or in Bad Boys, exactly that kind of narcowife) (I’m kinda projecting, sorry lol).

I can’t picture her with a sweet girl and I think a sweet girl wouldn’t be able to handle that woman.

She keeps arguing even though she realized she’s in the wrong.

She wouldn't be able to spend a lot of time with her S.O, she's such a workaholic.

I don't think she likes to wear men clothes.

I don't think she hates kids but I can't picture her with kids.

Wouldn't divorce once she's married.

Btw I didn’t want to make this too sexual bc lately this fandom is full of just that, too much smut, too much violence and rape in the smut and it’s so graphic that I feel I’m watching instead of reading wtf, its uncomfortable and I honestly can’t picture the characters being that violent and vile.

As I said in my previous hcs… these guys are surrounded by violence, stress and blood every day, I personally don’t think they wanna get home to torture their partners (well, maybe graves cause he is a piece of shit that mf. Okay kidding, not even Graves is that much of a bastard).

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nkogneatho · 1 year

Text

𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄

: ̗̀➛synopsis: You were scared of falling in love but will you change your mind when you meet someone who actually shows you how you are filled with so much love?

#mlist #commission #taglist

—wc: 1.5k

—cw: gn!reader, fwb to lovers (ig), hurt/comfort, mild smut, cockwarming, receiving head, abandonment issues, past trauma, commitment issues, anxiety and crying, fluff, soft gojo, not proofread (its 2 am im sorry)

—a/n: so my mind decided to remind me of my trauma on a Wednesday night so I pulled this out of my ass. Tell me what you think if you read it :)) Reblogs much appreciated.

It fucked you up. Body fragile as a glass, mind clouded dark. The crippling fear emerged on the surface once again. That same old feeling. The feeling of abandoning someone before they abandon you.

You pitied yourself. What a pathetic person to get walked over by all those people. You despised every single decision you made. That included to kindle a relationship with this man.

Gojo Satoru. The strongest, they say. Hair whiter than snow, eyes glinting in light like the ocean waves turn diamond in sun.

He loved you. In fact, he loved you so much it scared you. The anxiety creeped up your back when he said those words to you.

"I love you."

He loves me. He said he loves me. But so did every other guy. He is lying. He'll leave.

Can you blame the traumatized mind to come to such conclusions?

Gojo did expect this reaction from you. He knew you were scared or love and commitment. Although the man felt the need to confess or he were to regret it for the rest of his life. Your knees met the floor with a loud thud, arms hanging like they were a soft toy.

"Do you know what you're saying?" Your voice cold.

"I do. I love you. And I know it's something you never wanted to hear given this relationship—fuck is this even a relationship?" His palm rubbed his forehead, feeling the rough sensation of his bangs

He was right to ask that question. Was this a relationship? You both started as just fuck buddies. You set a bunch of rules (which were tampered later anyway.)

Rule No. 1, no interference with other party's personal life.

Eh. He broke that when he started coming to your workplace with a bouquet of tulips every Monday. He knew Mondays were harsh. So you didn't complain because it did help to get through the rough day. Rule No. 1 successfully broken.

Rule No. 2, dates are okay sometimes but not a lot. Maybe twice a month.

Now, you were the one to alter this rule. Dates might be forbidden but not coming over to his place and treating it like your own home. His place was way more spacious given his generational wealth. It was easier to focus on work in such a silent and lone environment. The rule only got broken when you decided to move in. Well, you would save the time to call him over or you traveling here just to fuck.

By now, he had probably bullied his dick inside you in every single room. You still remembered his words.

"I want to fuck you in every square inch of this house, y/n."

And he did.

He fucked you on the big navy blue velvet layered couch, not giving a shit if your juices stained the expensive material. He'd just buy another one.

He spread your legs and ate you out on the dinner table on that one evening when the takeout took too long to arrive. Your fingerbeds grabbed his head so hard, it might've broken his skull as you orgasmed. He later thanked the delivery guy for being late to which the boy walked out with a confused look.

He made your wrap your legs tightly around him as you cockwarmed him on the kitchen counter. Brows furrowed, desperately wanting to grind. But your locked thighs around his slutty waist, not letting him do so.

Every square inch, he fucked you in. So Rule No.2 was off the table.

Rule No. 3, No catching of serious feelings or saying I love you.

Gojo didn't recently fall for you. He was caught in this way before you realized. Maybe he even doesn't remember it himself when he did.

"What do you mean? You just broke rule 3, Toru."

"Fuck those rules. I don't even know why we had them in the first place. Look at us y/n," he tried to reason. "We never follwed them so don't give me that crap." His voice was elevating to a higher octave. You hated it. You don't like yelling. It triggers the tinnitus in your ear.

Tears started rummaging down your dry cheeks. "Look at me. I know you're lying."

"Baby, I am not. I know it's hard to believe given your past but just trust me on this one." Yes he knew about your previous failed relationships and the effect it had on you. Which is why he took so long to confess. Each day, calculating the outcome. So at some point, he did know how you'd react. Maybe he'll lose you forever.

"Why?" You questioned him. You felt like you were a broken soul. Used and abused mentally. Taken advantage of the innocent mind and abandoned when you were to ask for the real love. You started hating the word love, ironically.

I love you. It sounds preposterous in your brain. What a fool would someone be to ever believe those words.

"Why? Look at yourself," he said.

"I do. Everyday. Which is why I asked the question. I am nothing but someone drowning. But I do not want to be saved. I don't want a savior, Toru! It makes me feel pathetic and weak." By now, you were wailing and screaming.

But he didn't interrupt. He let you scream your heart out. Maybe that was the last option he could choose to make you face your actual feelings.

"You done?" He asked. You were sniffing, catching your breath from all the yelling.

"Toru, all I see myself is as a broken soul. Why would you ever love...this" you pointed at yourself.

"You fool. Look in my eyes and tell me if I lie, but all i see in you is love. It's funny how you hate that feeling yet you're filled with it, y/n." His gaze softened. "You say you don't want a savior. Do you realize you don't need it in the first place. Because it's you who saves others."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember, Ginger was abandoned in the rain when we saw her the other day? No one cared about her but you did. You fed it canned cat food a took her to a shelter. You named her. You cared for her." He intertwined his hand in yours.

"Y/n. I used to wake up every single day in this apartment feeling absolute shit about what happened with Suguru and others. But when you started barging in on random days, that's when I started to feel a little better." You understood it. It is lonely to live alone with your own thoughts haunting you in this big pace.

"You made this house a home. You don't need a savior because you are one." he claimed.

"When did you—you started loving me?" You asked between hiccups.

"Sweetheart. I fall for your every single second. Everytime I wake up next to you. Everytime I see you smile. Whenever you skip on the same colored tiles on the footpath. I love all of you." That is when you realized how selfish you've been. Taking and taking his love but giving none back. He did so much for you. But you were about to leave him in a fear of something that might never happen.

"What if you leave just like all of them?" you asked.

"Give it one more chance. Who knows? Maybe I'll stick around for the rest of our lives." He wore a soft smile as he said those words, affirming you. You started crying again, but this time, it was due to happiness.

"If you never leave, I promise to love you more than myself."

"Oh, baby," he hugged you a tightly. "I love you so fucking much and I am so happy right now."

He pulled away and his lips crashed against yours. It's weird. You've kissed hundred times before but this one felt different. Maybe, because it was filled with love and acceptance.

You came to a realization. You don't know what the future holds. It is not the fear of abandonment that scares you. It's the feeling of you giving away all your love and them not giving any back. You always swam ocean for people who couldn't even meet you at the shore.

But Gojo never left your side. All this time, he was swimming right behind you, concealing you from all the harm. So if anyone's worth the risk, it's him.

Oh. Gojo Satoru. What a beautiful man you are.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk fanfic

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 1 month

Text

Chatterbox (M, cold, 'drabble')

A little prompt-based fluff for you guys :) Reed and Greyson go out to dinner, but Reed realizes something is up when Greyson won't shut tf up lol. I'm loving writing this relationship, I can't lie, so sorry if it's too much Reed and Greyson lately - I'll get back to my other guys soon!

1.6K words (just a tiny lil blip of a story haha) CW: Male snz, coughing, fever, contagion mention. Hope you like it :)

Chatterbox

Reed looked down at his phone as he waited on Greyson, rereading the stream-of-consciousness texts his boyfriend had sent throughout the day.

Greyson

1:42PM

sooo pumped for tonight bb :)

1:56PM

should I wear a suit…? I know it’s a new spot but the website definitely reads ‘fine dining’, like fine-er than most of my clothes know how to be...

2:24PM

I think I’ll do dark jeans & a black button up. johnny cash style. cant go wrong w that. hahah.

3:17PM

I know ur working still but im just really excited to see you:):)

It was cute – borderline adorable – how nervous Greyson seemed for their dates, even after almost a year of the two of them being together. Reed had, of course, answered Greyson’s plethora texts throughout the day, but had tried to keep himself subdued so he wouldn’t give away his hand; tonight, he was going to ask Greyson to move in with him.

He knew it was a bit of a long time coming, but Reed was really trying to keep from scaring Greyson off by doing anything too quickly. His boyfriend certainly had a bit of past-relationship trauma that Reed tried valiantly to navigate; it was hard to figure out what the right time to do anything was. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure there was ever going to be a right time to push their relationship to the next level. But things had been good lately; like, really good. Tonight felt… right.

Greyson’s presence was palpable before Reed even saw him blow through the door. He looked up from his phone and clocked his boyfriend, standing out side the restaurant with his elbow locked over his face; Reed cocked his head a bit, confused. Was he… coughing?

The chef, clad in the Johnny-Cash-getup he’d promised, shook himself out before pushing the door to the restaurant open. He pawed at his nose with the back of his hand while asking the hostess to point Reed out – she gestured towards their table, and Greyson smiled when the two of them locked eyes. Reed waved, smiling back. Something was certainly… off.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” Greyson said, kissing the top of Reed’s head before sitting across from him. “The fuckin’ train was running late again.”

“I’ve told you a million times I’ll come pick you up for dates,” Reed said, squeezing Greyson’s hand across the table. “You don’t always have to take the train.”

Greyson shrugged, smiled a little loopily. “I like the train,” he said, picking up his menu and squinting at the small font. “Lots of time to think. I’ve come up with my best dishes on the subway, I’m pretty sure; you remember that tart I made for the writer’s dinner, the one where we saw each other for the second time? Came up with that on the train. I was sitting next to this girl, probably a student, and she was eating one of those little egg tarts, the ones from the Japanese bakeries? I thought, damn I bet a root vegetable in one of those would fuckin’ slay – spoiler alert, it so did. Where would I have come up with that if not for the train? Plus, it’s one of the most sustainable ways to travel. I get my good karma for not actively killing the environment in. Win-win. What’re we eat – HTSHH! NXTSHH!” Greyson’s explosion of word vomit was very suddenly cut off to stifle two painful-sounding sneezes into the back of his hand.

Reed blinked for what was maybe the first time since his boyfriend sat down. “...bless,” he said after a beat. Greyson nodded, sniffled a little, and picked the menu back up.

“What’s this place’s thing anyway?” Greyson continued, flipping the menu over to look at drinks. “I can’t seem to figure it out; are they Italian? Mediterranean? Fine dining? Just high-end? No tasting menu, but prices are high enough to warrant one. Wine list reads very Italian, but there are like three dishes with hummus on them? I’m half-expecting to be served babaganoush bolognese. Which… maybe would work? Actually, eggplant, tomato sauce… I could see it working. You never know. Can’t judge a book by its menu, right? What’re you drinking? Want to get a bot -?”

This second monologue was cut short when Reed reached across the table to place a gentle hand on Greyson’s face. Just as he expected: hot.

“Babe,” Reed said gently, taking his hand back, “you’re burning up.”

The chef cast his glance down, embarrassed. “You weren’t supposed to figure that out till after dinner,” he muttered. Reed laughed.

“Seriously? You had to know I’d figure something was up. You’ve been monologing since the moment you sat down. Have you been sick all day? You should’ve told me, honey. How much cough medicine did you take before you showed up here?”

Greyson looked up at Reed and gave him a little half-smile. “Pretty sure I downed half a bottle of Robutusssin, not gonna liiii – hh! HhNXTSHH-ue! Huh-TSHH-ue!” Once again, Greyson attempted to stifle, to no avail. He allowed himself two painful little coughs before righting himself again.

“Bless you,” Reed said again. “I wish you would just sneeze normal, that always sounds so painful.”

“We’re in a restaurant,” Greyson said, a huskiness beginning to creep in to his voice. “That’s so gross.”

Reed rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Who cares? No one’s looking at us. They’re too busy with their many, many hummuses.”

A laugh bubbled out of Greyson, and with it came a flurry of congested coughs he directed into the sleeve of his shirt. “Don’t mbake me laugh,” he muttered, taking a drink of water. “You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

“Good,” Reed said, flagging the waiter. “I’m so sorry,” he said when the young, well-dressed server came to their table, “something’s come up and we’re going to have to go.” He handed the kid a fifty. “Thank you for your help.”

The server nodded, said thank you to Reed, and went to grab the two men’s jackets. Greyson raised an eyebrow, confused. “What’re you doing?”

“Taking you home,” Reed said. “You need tea and soup, not…” he glanced back down at the menu, “fattoush flatbread.” Greyson visibly deflated.

“I wanted to spend the evening with you,” he said, his voice subdued. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called and canceled, I just… I mbiss you when we don’t see each other all week. You’re always busy, I’mb always busy, it just fucking sucks. I don’t even know how I got fucking sick… oh wait, yes I do. Elijah had a cold last week – was that last week? Did I tell you that? I can’t remember. I think the servers gave it to him. Fuckin’ servers, I’ve never met a group of people who get sick mbore than theehh – huh! Fuck – HUHETSHHH-ue! Huh-! HhITSZZZCH-ue!” Greyson folded in half, his torso practically beneath the table in an attempt to keep the entire restaurant from hearing him. It was, of course, at that moment that the server returned with their coats. Reed took them silently, and stood to gather his boyfriend, who slowly unfurled himself from his own lap.

“Bless you,” he said, gently helping Greyson to his feet and slipping his coat over his shoulders. He lead the two of them past the host stand and onto the sidewalk, where he turned Greyson to face him.

“First of all,” he said, sweeping Greyson’s hair out of his eyes and caressing his cheek, “I know a subset of people who get sick more than servers, and it’s chefs. You and all your chef buddies are pestilence incarnate because you work nine hundred hours a week.” This prompted a little laugh from Greyson. Perfect, thought Reed. Break the tension.

“Secondly, yes, you did tell me that Elijah was sick, and I told you, and I quote, ‘Don’t get too close, I know you two love to share a cold’, but I know you don’t like to listen to authority, so not sure what I expected.” Another laugh. Greyson pushed his hair back, rubbed his nose, and pulled Reed in to hug him. Reed continued from this spot, pressed into Greyson’s shoulder.

“And thirdly,” he said, “I miss you too. All the time. Which is why I asked you out tonight.” He pulled away, reached into his pocket, and dropped a key into Greyson’s palm. “I don’t want to miss you anymore. I don’t want you to have to take the train from Brooklyn every single night, I don’t want us to hang out once a week, I don’t want to drop you at your apartment to take care of yourself. I want to see you when I wake up every morning. I want to hear you sneak in at three AM after you and Matt go clubbing. I want to take care of you, at home, when you’re sick.” Reed smiled, a little embarrassed, as Greyson stared at the key. “Move in with me,” Reed said. “Please.”

Greyson’s mouth opened, then shut without words a couple of times before he looked Reed in the eyes. “Yes,” he said, nodding. “Okay. Yes. Yes, please.”

Reed felt a smile bloom on his face, huge, goofy, unashamed. He took Greyson’s face in his hands and planted a kiss on his lips. Greyson held his boyfriend by the waist, then picked him up to spin him around. “I love you,” Greyson muttered into Reed’s mouth.

“I love you more,” Reed said, smiling. Greyson turned away then, suddenly to -

“HRRSHH-ue! HhhITSHZZCH-ue!” he sneezed away from his boyfriend, which prompted a laugh from Reed.

“Probably too late for that nicety,” Reed joked, elbowing Greyson playfully. The chef huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“I figured sneezing directly into your face would probably kill the moment,” he said, sniffling. “But I’ll go ahead and just do it next time.”

“Oh, shut up,” Reed laughed, kissing Greyson again. “C’mon. Let’s get you home and in bed. Sickie.”

Greyson smiled a little. “Yeah,” he said, looping his arm into Reed’s. “Let’s go home.”

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #snzblr #coldfic #male cold #male snz #idk idk they're just so cute i love a happy greyson #i mean i love an angry greyson too but it's fun to write something happy idk #im thinking my next big fic will be an elijah drama fest tho... i have IDEAS

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ada7201 · 5 months

Note

Imagine in Blue Lock x female player reader story, the reader is like Unohana Retsu. The reader is normally kind and sweet and may be sometimes scary when it is needed but in the matches, the reader is totally a bloodthirsty and terrifying monster that could even scare the most arrogant and egoistic guys easily.

hii (ᗒ◡ᗕ)♡ this idea is so cute! i looove unohana, so im very excited to do this. hope you likeee!

a bit short, sorry everyone. but i really enjoyed writing this! and im very sorry if this wasn’t written the way you wanted of if i made our character in a different way you imagined. ♡

also, don’t forget to suggest some things. i love all your requests (´ω｀)

“she’s scary!”

★ part 1 ★ part 2 ★ part 3

warnings 🤍 ⭣ ⭣

female reader, swearing, and y/n just being a little scary.

“y/n? oh, she’s really sweet.” Chigiri would say, hanging his towel up to be dried.

“oh, her? she’s the nicest!” Bachira giggles, a smile on his face as he bounces around excitedly.

“she’s nice, and very gentle!” Isagi would say, cheeks turning slightly pink at the thought of you.

“who-? oh, y/n? mmm… she’s really patient most of the time.” Nagi would say, feeling his eyes close slightly as he drifted back into dreamland.

“she’s a real cutie, but can be a bit scary sometimes.” Reo would chuckle lightheartedly, recalling a few moments where you told off your team.

“but on the field, it’s a whole other story!” They all said, faces paling as they remember the way you play.

you’re quick to run past anyone; almost knocking over even the most muscular and tallest men in blue lock. your feet are heavy against the grass, and each goal you score is recognised by the slamming of your foot against the ball. how are your feet not sore all the time?

you’re not afraid to shout insults at anyone who gets in your way. some players have seen you arguing with Barou in the training area because he kicked the ball you were eyeing.

even he had to admit, you were pretty scary when you wanted to be - and that’s a lot coming from the self proclaimed king of soccer.

some could even argue that you were more of a king than he was!

the way you can steal the ball from almost anyone - eyes darkening with pure ego.

even the players on your team shudder.

it’s almost as if you’ve got some sort of heavy feeling surrounding you.

people have felt it before - although, the only ones who could really talk about how it felt have already been sent home, never to play soccer again.

whenever you’re asked about it, that sweet smile you give is almost misleading.

“oh, i’m sorry if i give off a scary impression. i’m just a little competitive.” you’d say gently, before getting back to whatever you were doing before.

a little competitive?

“get the fuck out of my way you parasite.” your shadow loomed over the player in front of you, the sparkly eyes that usually greet them now completely shaded with ego as you ran at full speed towards them.

that player almost shit their pants at the sight of you.

“have you seen the way y/n can dribble?!” Bachira asks with an awestruck smile on his face, thinking about how talented you are. maybe even more talented than him.

you easily manoeuvre the ball through your feet, before hesitantly passing it to your teammate - could they really score from that distance?

of course, you have moments where you’re sweet to your team on the field. before switching back to absolutely crushing the opposing team as if they did something to offend you.

“move!” you shout towards the poor soul in front of you, who just managed to move out of your way before his face was absolutely crushed with the ball you kicked.

y/n scores again! 7 - 3, team _ wins!

your team was grateful to have you, but sometimes you scared them.

“i’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.” you’d apologise to a fellow teammate, smiling politely as you pat his back gently. “you did great.” you compliment, as if you didn’t score the most goals.

“she’s really scary when she plays.” all the boys conclude, heads held low.

“i don’t even think that ‘scary’ is enough to explain the pure terror i felt when playing against her!”

“she looked at me as if i was - an ant!”

“i’m convinced that girl is evil.”

“she’s not even lukewarm - she’s a whole house fire when she plays.”

“she’s scarier than that Ego dude!”

“she doesn’t have a monster, she is the monster.”

. . .

“what did you say about me?” you ask, voice dangerously low.

“oh shit.”

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waldau · 6 months

Note

hi!! i really love the way you write for wonwoo♡♡♡ could i request wonwoo+friends to lovers(something like she fell first but he fell harder kinda trope?)

thank you so much anon! also you're my first ever request! i hope i did this trope justice, because as much as i love established relationships i don't think i've ever really done much for friends to lovers.

crush — jeon wonwoo | 2,193 words | fluff

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

it hits wonwoo like a sledgehammer.

he's glad he's already sitting in his usual seat at the table, because there probably couldn't be a worse time to realize he's in love with you. when you're out on a date with someone else, and when these dates look like they're going to become a steady fixture in your life; something that he's going to have to learn how to make peace with.

wonwoo doesn't just love you. he's in love with you, and he's grappling with the realization of how many months he's missed without knowing the extent of his own feelings for you.

he wishes there was some manual that told him what to do when you had feelings for your roommate. when said roommate happened to be your best friend you'd try to ask out if you weren't so afraid of ruining the friendship.

since the end of high school and the beginning of college, wonwoo's always had you by his side — whether it be in the same classes, or the same friend group — hell, he's lost count of the number of nights you spent together, watching movies instead of trying to get some sleep for the next day.

(maybe there was a reason why he chose horror movies sometimes, even though you were scared of them.)

he thinks back to all the times your friends joked you were practically dating — that never annoyed him. he was merely surprised at the idea of dating you. you had always been his best friend; nothing more. you were a constant fixture in his life that he didn't see in any other way.

but now? wonwoo wishes he could turn back time and see what could have happened. would you have had the same inside jokes you do now, the same ease that comes with learning to co-exist by carving each other's shapes into your lives?

he looks up from his laptop at the sound of the wind rattling the windows. but he's the only one home.

you're out on your second date in the past two weeks with this guy named seungcheol. for the past two weeks, wonwoo hasn't been able to put a finger on why he hasn't been so keen on this guy you're seeing, despite the fact that seungcheol sounds like nothing but a gentleman.

and now he knows why.

he's heard a lot about how funny and smart and nice seungcheol is, from taking you to your favourite restaurant for a date to leaving you at your doorstep at the end of your night out.

wonwoo wants to argue that he, too, does the same thing for you. he holds doors open for you and gives you his beanie when you're cold and lets you have his popcorn when yours is done, but you just don't see him that way. and he doesn't know what to do to make you see him that way.

he focuses on his laptop again. the words all seem jumbled, and he's pretty sure he's been on the same page for the past half hour. so he takes his glasses off and lets his eyes rest. only to remember the time you took his glasses off when he was almost about to fall asleep on the sofa.

you're loving. it's something he's learned from you. you're always looking out for others, always concerned, wanting them to know you're there in the subtlest ways possible.

wonwoo always wants you around, and now has an irrational worry that he won't have you for much longer. his heart starts hurting — really, physically hurting, like a deep pain in his chest that can't be satiated by anything. he didn't know it was possible, but it's all he can feel right now.

he tries to think about anything else. those few people he'd dated back in college, whose names he can't even remember now. he hasn't dated anyone in the past two years since you graduated, got a job and moved into this flat together.

wonwoo hadn't known what to expect when it came to living with you, because as much as you were best friends, you'd never shared a living space together beyond a night's time. now over the course of the last twenty five months, he's become accustomed to you, and he's afraid he's ruined it all by realizing he's fallen in love with you far too late.

part of that is definitely your fault, he reasons. he wouldn't blame seungcheol for falling in love, either.

the thought of you on your date hurts him enough that he picks up his pen and scratches something on the notepad lying next to his laptop. his strokes are harsh and drawn without care, but when he stops, it's a rough sketch of your favourite flowers.

he lets out a bitter laugh. everything always circles back to you, in the end.

you don't ask for anything on your birthday, but wonwoo always gets you a bouquet of your favourite flowers alongside your gifts, because he knows how much you love them.

he wonders if seungcheol knows they're your favourite.

he's shaken out of his thoughts when you open the door to your shared house and step inside, almost tiptoeing, like you're afraid of making noise. you freeze when you see him looking at you. he wonders how long he's been sitting there, mind blank but also filled with thoughts of you. it's eating him up like a slow poison from the inside, but he forces himself to hold your gaze.

you look amazing. more than that, you look happy.

he's not jealous. he's never jealous when you're happy. but he just wants you to be happy with him, and he doesn't know if he's enough.

he wants to know what it'd be like to take you out. he wants to know everything that makes you smile, because he still learns something new about you almost every day. he wants to know what it's like to hold hands with you, kiss you goodnight, and wake up every morning knowing you're there by his side and his side only.

he wants more than he can possibly have.

"hey, wonwoo," you say, shutting the door behind you before you take off your shoes. "couldn't sleep?"

"no. i wanted to wait till you came back."

you frown at him. "i told you not to."

as if he could ever do that. whether you go out on dates, or to parties with your friends, wonwoo can't relax till he knows you're back home, safe. he just shrugs. this is one thing he'll always be stubborn about.

"did you have dinner?" you ask, ruffling his hair and moving past him to presumably fix yourself a snack before you go to bed.

"yeah," he says, looking back at the laptop. the letters are still jumbled, so he cleans his glasses before putting them back on. "unless last night's pizza doesn't count."

"that's a lot of words for no," you say. "are instant noodles okay?"

"of course."

wonwoo watches as you move around, putting back today afternoon's dried dishes into their respective places and filling a glass of water for yourself.

"did you have fun tonight?"

"yeah," you say, a smile on your face. "cheol picked out this movie i've been wanting to watch for a while. then we went to this hole-in-the-wall cafe that was surprisingly nice. and then he dropped me home."

wonwoo tries not to react at the nickname you already have for him. he's not jealous, but it's getting harder to convince himself of that. he looks at your jacket. it looks...not quite your style.

"is that new?" he asks, pointing at it.

"what? oh, this? seungcheol asked me to return it to him the next time. it was pretty cold today."

wonwoo's hand crumples the note before he realizes. next time? why couldn't he have realized how much he loved you before all of this had to happen?

"you okay?" you ask, turning around to look at him. "come here and tell me if it tastes fine."

"it's just instant noodles," he pretends to grumble, but waits for you to feed him some. he can see you're a bit tired. he wishes you'd fall asleep on him, the way you do when you're stubborn enough to want to keep him company with whatever he's doing.

"tastes good," he hums, licking his lips.

did he just imagine your eyes looking at them before they moved back to his face?

"great. hand me those bowls from there?"

you using him for his height is a running joke he hopes never gets old. wonwoo takes out the cutlery too, but stops when he sees an angry red line on your hand.

"what happened to you?" he asks, holding your hand so he can see it clearly. he tries not to think about how much bigger his hand is. the cut isn't bleeding, but it's still there, starkly visible against your skin.

you hesitate. "i'm not sure. i remember my hand hit something in the cafe, but i didn't see it till now."

"and you didn't bother checking it once you got home?"

you look at him. "i didn't even feel it that much, woo."

"you could have tetanus for all you know!"

"it's just a cut! it's hardly that ser—"

you stop talking when wonwoo switches on the tap and turns off the stove. "take this off," he says, pointing to the jacket. it shouldn't even be in your home. he shouldn't be feeling like this in the first place.

you comply wordlessly, hand limp in his as he washes it thoroughly, before patting it dry with the towel near the sink and finding a bandaid in the cabinet above. you have a propensity for getting hurt randomly and wonwoo's glad to be prepared.

"done," he says, letting go of your hand. you're still looking at him.

"kiss it better?" you ask. there's a mischievous look in your eyes.

and who is he to refuse? he takes your hand back, gently pressing a kiss to it, making sure it's not too forceful. when your eyes meet again, he gets the feeling there's something in the air. even you seem to be aware of it. it's like the tipping point before the scales lose their balance, like the calm before the storm; it's now or never.

"one more time?" you ask, moving a bit closer. wonwoo swears he forgets how to breathe. and he definitely isn't imagining your eyes on his lips this time.

"always," he says, before he leans down to press his lips to yours.

it's magic. there's no other word for it. wonwoo feels like he's transcending worlds when he feels your lips against his, trying to press yourself into him when you wrap your hands around his waist.

when you pull apart, wonwoo swears you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life. this is what he wants, and he'll be damned if he doesn't try to find out what could have been.

"please don't go out with him again?"

"...what?"

wonwoo swallows, letting go of your hand. his bravery now comes and goes like waves on the seashore, tides threatening to spill out everything he feels about you in one careless motion.

"i don't want you to go out with him again."

"because...we kissed?"

"because i'd never let you get hurt if you were with me."

"you...what?"

"i like you," he says, taking a step closer. "i don't know what that meant to you, but i like you so much, and i hate that it took me this long to realize it. i want...i want you to give me a chance."

"you like me?" you ask, voice smaller than before.

he nods. "i want to...take you out on a date. wherever you want. i want to make you laugh. it's been killing me, thinking about you with him."

"oh, my god," you say, burying your face in your hands. wonwoo's heart drops. "why would you— i've been trying to get over you all this while, going out on dates with him so i can stop thinking about you that way, and now you're just...giving me what i've always wanted?

wonwoo feels like he's been drenched in ice-cold water. "you like me?" he parrots. he doesn't know what to do with his hands, so he pulls you in for a hug. even this simple gesture suddenly feels like a brand new thing in the light of your recent confessions.

your hands find their place around his waist again, your chin on his chest, looking up at him. "of course i do. i'm surprised you didn't realize earlier. it's been...a while."

this is news to him. "how long, exactly?"

you bow your head, not meeting his eyes, "i'm not telling you now."

"you can't hide anything from me, you know."

he can feel your smile against his chest. "i know. let me just have this for now?"

"forever."

you tighten your grip around his waist and just stand with him.

wonwoo makes a mental note to get you a bunch of real flowers.

#i'm not fully happy with this but i TRIED and i think pining wonwoo is so ^&*%$!@#also coups because he sort of crept into my bias line last week. what a man #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #wonwoo #fluff #waldau writes #req #🍃 — svt

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brandnewhuman · 2 years

Note

Ghost and König s/o headcanons pleaseee, thank you!

Dutiful lovers

♡ headcanons ♡

☆starring☆

König Dominik (cause at this point I will not stop calling him that)

Simon "ghost" Riley

Tw: mentions of Simon's past, mentions of anxiety, canon violence and talks of very inaccurate military stuff, mature language, mentions of insecurities about weight, height ecc

A/N: to think this was a very well respected slasher blog and now look at us, letting this army himbos ruin our taste. Thank you so muuuuuch for the request, I LOVE GETTING REQUEST FOR OTHER THINGS BESIDE SLASHERS CAUSE SOMETIMES I DONT REALLY FEEL LIKE WRITING FOR JUST ONE THING OR ANOTHER. Anywho I hope you enjoy it

》♡♡♡《

Simon:

This man has never felt genuine and pure love in years

I feel like if you have enough patience you could make it work with him

It took him so much time to come to terms with his feelings

He did little things tho that made you realised he cared

What made him fall for you was how resilient and kind you were

A little treat for you since you have been very good simps, just for funsies we're gonna pretend you already knew about some of the more questionable things he has done

Not his past, I mean the things that he feels bad about

You knew and you saw how he always seemed kind of scare of himself

And you always were there to remind him he was a good person

He started to do more for you in general cause he wanted to feel worthy of your kindness

He genuinely folds every time you just as much as smile at him

He knew he was deep in love when he started to have nightmares about losing you

He will try to, unconsciously, self sabotage the relationship at first

I feel like he has a history of people giving up on him because of how his past affects him and how hard it is for him to live a normal life

He's not like that great with physical affection

Not because he doesn't like it but because he doesn't knows much about it

Definitely enjoys being cuddle and being the little spoon but also likes to be able to be the big spoon too

Listen this man has been burned, shot, buried ecc he has a shit ton of scars and is very self conscious about them

Not only because of how they look but because they remind him of really fucked up stuff

So maybe at first he won't be that open about you touching him in certain points of his body but after a while it will start to make him feel much better

He swears your touch is full of literal magic

Would love to be able to cook for you but he is a public danger with those cooking skills

Can't fucking handle seeing you crying, he shuts down completely

Which makes him feel like shit because he can see how you feel let down by him not comforting you

You will literally gain scary dog rights for being with him. He death glares anything and anyone he deems bad or threatening to you

Ironically I don't think he's the possessive and jealous type

He doesn't gets jealous but he gets insecure because he always thinks about how he is "broken" and "a lot" to put up with and he kind of feels bad to drag you with him and his problems

Doesn't asks for it but needs a lot of reassuring words

He literally melts inside everytime you remind him you truly love him, that you're not getting tired of him, that you care about how he feels

He may not be one for really big demonstrations of love but he always remembers the little details

He remembers your favourite flower, he knows how you like your coffee or tea and if you don't like either he remembers your favourite drink

He knows your favourite book, movie and song

If you really pay attention he's quite romantic and attentive towards you

The good days with him are really fucking good but the bad ones are way over being just bad

He can be quite insensitive with how you feel, not because he doesn't cares tho

He never causes you harm on purpose is just that he gets really scared of getting attached

Definitely the type of person that gives you anything you say you like

You could be just complimenting a shirt of his but he just immediately gives it to you

He definitely compensates his bad traits with gifts

Weirdly enough loves to hold hands and to play with your fingers

And he loves the feeling of your hands caressing his face

If you wear any makeup he takes it off of you and would love for you to the same to him

When he's on a particularly rough mission the first thing he thinks of is you and most of the time that's what quite literally makes him survive

If you're not part of the 141 or the army in general he tries to keep you as far as possible from that part of his life

He has literal nightmares about you getting hurt because of his job

He loves to do normal everyday things with you cause it makes him feel he finally has some sort of normal and healthy life

Doesn't know how to sing but likes to sing along songs with you just because you make it look like fun

With time I genuinely think he would be more openly affectionate with you

Would tell you about his past on accident

Maybe you two were arguing about him being distant or careless when it comes to keep himself safe

One thing led to another and he said he was scared of you because he didn't want to be like his father and you told him he wasn't

Which led him to rant about how many similarities there are while unconsciously telling you about his trauma

Tbh after that things went definitely better

He feels genuinely happy only when he's with you

Loves going on car dates cause he likes to drive and talk with you about anything and everything

He could literally spend hours listening to you and looking at you with that lovestruck puppy dog eyes gaze

Sometimes he looks at you while sleeping and gets somewhere between being happy and sad

Cause he loves you literally so much it hurts and he doesn't always know how to show it to you so it just stays inside him and it aches

Doesn't want photos of you on him but always carries something like a bracelet or a necklace that doesn't have any meaning to you but it does remind him of you

He has pretty severe panic attacks and night terrors and before you he used to spend days alone in his room scared af and on the edge until he didn't force himself to shut it all down

Now he trust you won't leave him and feels so much safer and so much better knowing that you're there with him

Like I said, with time he gets so much better at doing stuff for you

He always leaves you handwritten notes (his handwriting is horrible) if he wakes up before you

Always makes sure that if you're sick or don't feel too well or if in general something hurts you get checked and get the best treatment

He's a very selfless person in that sense, he would do anything for you

If you're having like major life issues or something really big he will take a time off from work to be with you

He did it for his family and he will do it for you too

Always the first to apologise

Weirdly enough I think he likes going out and doing stuff outside with you

He especially likes to go movie hunting and has so many underground titles that are very good which he always get so excited to watch with you

König:

This man is so fucking perfect it's ridiculous

He has the looks like could kill you but it's actually a cinnamon roll kind of vibe

He was absolutely terrified of being in a relationship

He tends to put up this premade personality and has always been scared of being himself because everyone he has ever met has always told him his too much

Much like ghost no one has ever stick with him

Saying him or his problems are too much

Once you show him an ounce of love he is sold bro

This man will be yours forever and falls hard in love so don't think he will be playing around

You're the only one who gets to see the real könig and is something truly amazing

He's incredibly smart and loves to tell you cool facts about the things you like

He will quite literally fuel any obsession you may have

Makes you meet his grandma cause she's a really important part of his life and he trust you enough

He gets self conscious about his body and his appearance but would never doubt you when you say you like him and you find him beautiful

He tells you quite often how he only feels special or handsome with you and you may not get how important that is for him

He never feels like that with anyone, not even his grandma

He always feels like he takes too much space, like he's too loud or too soft

But with you he really feels like nothing can get to him

Loves to cook for you and knows every recipe that you like

He's always so proud of everything you do and brags about you with everyone and anyone

He tends to have panic attacks and mental breakdowns very easily and everytime it happens he goes to you cause he knows he can be vulnerable around you

Enjoys staying at home dates rather than going out

He loves to have book dates, as he calls them, where both of you pick a book for each other to read and comment about it

Takes very seriously any problem or difficulty you may have

He hardly needs to apologise cause he always likes to talk through things instead of just arguing

You could literally give your entire heart to this man and I can guarantee you'll never regret it

Always makes breakfast for both and if he's at home after a long mission he brings yours to bed so you can have a lazy morning

He loves to dance with you while doing house chores and definitely plays piano for you

Naps with you everywhere at any time of the day, he literally uses you as his own personal Teddy bear

He gives me gomez addams in love vibes guys

He literally can and will rip the head off of anyone who dares to say something mean to you

You're gonna have to defend him tho cause he's not doing that shit for himself

If he gets sick, he tries to bother you as little as possible and even if it breaks his heart he keeps away from you so you don't get sick too

Doesn't do the same when you're sick tho

If you're sick he will spend every minute of the day doting over you

100% celebrates anniversaries, valentines days and your birthdays as if they were world known holidays

Unfortunately I do think he would be the jealous type

Specially if you're part of the 141

If he sees you talking with ghost or hanging out with soap he will get a sickening feeling of dread in his guts

He just thinks about all the things they have that he doesn't and how much more attractive or even easier to be are the others in confront

Needs a lot of reassurance for sure

Overall he's like so sweet and so caring that it makes you feel like he has got out of some kind of disney movie

He definitely didn't asked you out but spent months staring at you with that lovestruck look

He followed your every word like a lost puppy

Never expected for you to like him, he come to terms with the fact that you might never like him like he did

Like fr guys he was happy to just be around you

#simon ghost riley cod #codmw2 #ghost cod #cod mw2 #cod #simon ghost riley headcanons #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #könig cod headcanons #könig #könig cod #könig cod mw2 #könig x reader #könig mw2 #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty

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masturbucky · 2 years

Text

The Intruder

DARK!Winter Soldier x fem!reader

Summary: You had issues with sleeping for the past two weeks. You wake up every night and you swear you can feel someone's staring from the shadows, but there's no one, and you know it's your imagination. Sometimes you feel touches. When you're tired of your mind tricks, you start taking those sleeping pills. It's good for you, and for the man who watches your sleep every night, too. But you dont need to know that. You need to sleep.

WARNINGS: DARK REALLY DARK PLEASE BE AWARE(!!!), Smut, Somnophilia, NON-CONSENSUAL EVERYTHING, AGAIN IT'S A FUCKING RAPE, Obsessive behavior, unprotected p in v, WS basically romanticizes from his sick point what he does to you, no y/n, literally NO comfort, creampie, marking, a bit of knife play(he tears your shirt off and touches you with a knife a bit), a lot of mentions of death by WS, choke kink if you squint, dacryphilia if you squint, what else? ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE! Also I kinda forgot to post it when I finished it and so i remembered only like an hour ago, changed some stuff a bit, but grammar errors are still on the table yk. Also, YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. I'M NOT YOUR DADDY I CAN'T TELL YOU SHIT, I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE A MINOR, IT'S YOUR PROBLEM.

You sigh, dropping your bag on the couch while slipping out of your shoes on the way to the kitchen. It's a living hell, you think.

Two fucking weeks you can't sleep. You wake up every night, a several times at least, with a fucking panic attack, or in a sleep paralysis, or whatever the fuck it is — you don't know, you don't care, you just want it to stop.

The thing is, you're going insane.

Every night the reason you wake up is this feeling of someone's eyes on you. Someone's staring at you, from the shadowed corner of your room, every night and it doesn't stop. At first you weren't brave enough to look. On the thrid night you said fuck it and turned the light on, looking around. No one, nothing, no trace of anyone's presence. The fuck you expected to see? The windows were closed, same goes to the door — you checked, three times and one more to be sure — and you were honestly confused and tired enough to get back to sleep. Only for the same thing to happen the following night. And the next one. And again, and again, and again.

You changed locks. Better safe than sorry, you know?

It didn't helped. You still feel watched every night.

Sometimes YOU SWEAR you could feel lingering touches on your body. Cold or warm.

Again, you're going insane.

You bought a fucking camera and installed it in your bedroom under the ceiling just to find your sleepy self and your scared to hell awake self, walking around and searching for the fucking intruder, on it in the morning.

You tried to invite your friends over for the night, but — what am I, a fucking joke? — they all laughed at you, when you told your story. Fuck them, really, you should consider searching for new friends.

You decided to go to the therapist your friend (the only one who, thankfully, didn't laughed with the rest, but still brushed you off) recommended you. The point is, you'll have to wait a month to get an appointment in their busy schedule. You ain't gonna wait so long, you need to sleep for fuck's sake.

That's being said, here you are. Reading an instruction list to Flurazepam, which is like a fucking blanket itself, and grinning like an idiot, excited. Fuck your brain really, fuck it's dumb imagination, fuck the imaginary intruder! You need your sleep and you'll get your sleep, thanks to medicine!

Tonight you eat, shower, read your evening book and get to bed happily, excited to finally get some sleep. Maybe you take a bit more Flurazepam than needed. Just in case, you know?

***

He entered your apartment the same way as always - it wasn't hard to steal your keys and make a copy. He's used to be unnoticed, they would've been disappointed if he was careless enough to let you know about his mere existence. So far, you're stupid enough not to look into details. Smart enough to try and change locks and install a camera, smart enough to show him that you're safe from everyone, but him.

He stops the recording of this damn camera before walking into your room. He solved this problem the first night you installed it. It's a nice kind of change, he must admit. Seeing you from different angle other than from cameras he installed before is nice, truly. Beautiful, clever and caring about his... needs, even without knowing about him. That's what makes you so divine.

Tonight... To be honest, he was waiting for this just as much as you. He was excited, even. For your sleep and his next move in your relationship, if he could call it that.

He takes his mask and glasses off, walking closer to your bed, to your sleeping, relaxed. Asleep, more calm than usual. Just like the first night. Your breath is soft, heartrate is slow, the pills you took obviously worked. You probably took a bit more than you should have, his dumb little thing you are.

He doesn't know how it all happened, to be honest.

What he knows is, he needs you. Badly. All the time, day and night, needs to see your beauty and he needs to be close to something as perfect as you. He thought they wiped everything that could've been even close to what he feels towards you, but apparently they only made it worse.

More likely they know where he disappears every night to. They know everything, and he noticed how much easier it became to sneak out. And if they know and let it be, then he's allowed to have this. Which probably gives them even more power over him.

But he doesn't care. As long as he can see his angel, as long as he can touch something as perfect as you are, he doesn't give a fuck about what else Hydra would make him do. Consider it done. Consider it dead.

He takes his gloves off, kneeling down beside your bed. Slides your blanket off your body, and takes a deep breath. You're in your usual clothes of choice — this tempting shirt, which he often can see your nipples through, which he allows himself to touch sometimes even, and a comfy pair of underwear. He doesn't know what other men usually consider sexy, but for him it is whatever you wear. Especially this pair of panties.

Brings his hand to your thigh, more confidently than usual strokes the smooth skin up, touching the soft material of your underwear and sliding under the warmth of your shirt, to your belly. He doesn't need to be careful now. You won't wake up anyway, you're too deep in your slumber, thanks to those pills.

He almost groans only at the feeling of your soft, warm skin under his fingertips. It's not often when he touches you UNDER your clothes. Too much of a risk, he never intended to wake you up. It would mean a too big step, he doesn't need you to put up a fight and resist too much. If so, he would have to hurt you. And take you away. He's not ready to do that just yet.

But now? Now he can at least do that much without rushing things into it's natural ending. He could have you now, he could taste you now, and then he would prepare to take you somewhere where he would do that as often as possible. He just has to be patient.

For now he could just leave you a message of who you belong to. A promise, of sorts.

The bed cracked under his weight loudly, thanks god you're so deep in your sleep, and the blade shines in the moonlight, so does the hand, the whole arm. Soldier knows that what he's about to do will break you. But a broken angel is still an angel, a fallen one is not.

However, he's very clear with his messages.

Your shirt goes first. The material breaks easily on a sharp knife, he uses it to kill after all, and he's devouring every second of it. He prays that it wont be possible to erase from his mind, just like it was with you, with his angel.

"Beautiful," He breathes out, his voice hoarse and his throat hurts. He hasn't talked in quite some time.

Your shirt is no longer on his way. And oh god, seeing your chest again makes him believe in heaven, whatever this is. When you'll be his, you won't be wearing any clothes at all. It will be his personal heaven.

"So beautiful..." He lowers the knife to your chest, tracing soft skin, nipples with the backside of it. He could so easily switch the side, he could leave a permanent mark on you, a reminder of your first night as his, but he wont. Not now, at least.

Then he lowers the blade to your underwear. Two simple cuts on either sides - and it's just as dysfunctional as the shirt. But he doesn't think you'll need them anyway, now. He might as well just... Take them, as a little reminder for himself? A promise.

He lifts your pretty legs up, resting them on his shoulders when he settles in between, and slides the thorn material from under you with his flesh arm. He wants to feel this. He wants to savor every touch.

Your panties are left in the pocket of his pants, and he returns his full attention to you. Only if you knew how beautiful you are right now, naked for him, ready for him. He would show you, one day. When you would be conscious and used to him, his presence, his touches. For now, this will do.

The knife is back in it's holder, and he lowers to your warm body. Hands slide up your waist to your tits, and the left one to your neck. Metal fingers trace the warm, delicate skin, pressing ever so slightly. The only time he really focuses on how much pressure he adds. Looks just perfect on you.

He can't wait anymore.

Right hand slides off your body to lower his pants, just enough to free his almost uncomfortable erection. He was so mesmerized by your beauty that he completely forgot about himself.

Leans back slightly, once again admiring the view. His angel, so perfect and peaceful, in her sleep. Your calm face, delicate neck, chest, your belly, legs and, a fucking paradise, your pussy. He can't see much, but he knows its perfect. He had seen it, many times, on the cameras. He also knows what you play with, and where you hide it. Lower drawer of your nightstand.

Soldat leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses on your neck, tasting your skin. It's his time to enjoy, his moment to savor, so he slides his hand down to your exposed to him — only him — heat. You're wet, just a bit. Enough for him, at least. Touching you is a privilege already.

Your legs are pushed up, over his thighs. He doesn't know if he wants to hurry up or take his time, it feels like he needs both. Contradictions became natural to him since he found you.

A deep breath. He lined himself up with your entrance, stroking himself slowly, just a bit. Smearing his precum over your clit and soft folds, enjoying the moment. It's so strange to be so overwhelmed. So excited. You make him feel things he didn't knew he was able to feel, and you have no clue. You will, eventually.

He pushes in slowly, groaning and almost cumming right away, holding himself back and biting on your neck. He takes a second to remind himself about how to breathe. Unbelievable. You feel like death. The best feeling ever, the only good feeling.

When he's fully in, he thinks that calling it a heaven would've been an understatement. Your insides around him are so much more.

When he pulls out to the tip and pushes back in, that's where he could've die happily.

You're so warm. So tight, squeezing his manhood just right. It's where he belonged, it's where he feels complete and forgiven. Your walls hug his dick perfectly, and he want's to stay in there until he fades away. And he wants more.

He's greedy when he starts moving. In and out, slowly at first, but getting faster — yes, he's greedy. He's guilty in more than greed, he doesn't care. With your pussy taking him so well, with your warm body under his hands, his lips, just under him — he doesn't care. It's all his, you're his.

Oh how he wants to hear more than those sweet whimpers from you.

He can imagine. His angel, you, under him, hands gripping on his arms, you'll be begging him for more and crying for him, clamping down on him so deliciously and needy. You'll be screaming — screaming the name he can't quite imagine, he can't remember, but he knows you'll be screaming it. One day.

He will take his time to praise you, to tell you how good you are for him, angel, taking all he can give, giving all you have. He will make sure you're shaking and breaking all over again on his cock, tears smeared all over your face and you're drooling with this fucked out look on your divine face-

Oh god, more. He needs more of you, he takes all he can take.

He will leave so much marks on your body, just like now, over your chest and your neck, while you'll be squeezing him inside and begging, begging for his seed-

He cums with a groan, slurred fuck left his lips, headboard of your bed cracks under his metal hand. Aftershock hit the Soldat hard. Right hand gripping on your hip, his breath is ragged and he barely remembers how to breath correctly — he knows this feeling well, but from the bad side. Now? It's euphoric. He doesn't want it to end, he wants to die right here and there, buried deep inside of your heat, with you taking his cum so well, his beautiful angel.

He opens his eyes after what feels like a blissful eternity, his gaze slowly focuses on you under him. He can hear your breath, hard and ragged, he can see a layer of sweat over your body. Small smile cracks on his face. Even in your sleep, you accepted him. You enjoyed it.

He doesn't want to pull out, but he does so anyway. He reminds himself that it's not the last time. He'll have enough chances to do it again with you, after all. He knows what to do. He knows how. He just needs to prepare it.

Soldat looks down, mesmerized by how his seed leaks out of you. There's so much, he has to resist the urge to push it back in. Or to lick it out.

You're so perfect, his beautiful angel. But he has to go.

On a second thought...

He reaches out to your nightstand, barely even looking up from your pretty cunt, still leaking with his cum. Grabs his mask and glasses. Puts both on quickly, then grabs the remote control of your camera from his pocket, and presses on.

After all, he should be very clear with his messages.

#x reader #dark fic #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #winter solider x reader #winter soldier smut #dark!bucky x reader #non con #dark!winter soldier #dark!bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you

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afictionaladventure16 · 1 year

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hi!! maybe a fic where pedro has been away from his daughter for a while due to filming and just before a few days before he’s supposed to come home, he calls her saying he has to stay for a couple more weeks. she gets upset and maybe rebels and acts out in some way. the eventual reunion could either be a angsty or fluff depending on what ur goin for!! love ur writing btw!!

Broken Promises (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Word Count: 4,516

A/N: First of all, thank you for your kind words! It means a lot! <3 I live for angsty requests! This one was fun to write! I kind of took what you asked and did some twists... I hope you like it, though!! Requests are open to anyone who wants to send something in! Also, I don't know if Pedro's older sister has a husband so, i made it up. ALSO, 4.5 k words! This might be my longest one yet. I stayed up till 4:30 am writing this one....

You anxiously looked over at the clock that was mounted on the wall, “The more you look at it, the slower it’ll move,” your tia commented as she noticed you looking at the clock for the seventh time in the past five minutes. “He said he’ll call before he got on his flight, his flight isn’t until Seven. Hours away, so would you please finish your homework before your father kills me because your grades slipped while he was away.”

You groaned, “It’s killing me that he hasn’t called to let me know he made it to the airport, not even a text!”

“He’s a busy man, Y/N. Plus you know how he is, he forgets where he places his phone like ever single minute, that’s why he’s so attached to that damn iPad,” Your tia commented as she continued to chop up vegetables for dinner. But she had a point, he could have let his phone in his carry on, or some obvious place that was in plain sight.

You knew your dad too well, sometimes you thought you knew him better than he knew himself. Sometimes it was true and it scared you. Why? Maybe it was because he was everything to you and you were everything to him. It had just been the two of you since your mother passed and it was as if her passing brought the two of you closer. You bonded over her death in a morbid way.

His mother passed when he was young, so he knew how to be a shoulder to cry on.

He knew the right things to say and the wrong things to say.

He knew the things you would want to avoid, the people you wouldn’t want to see. Overall, he just knew the pain you would go through. Ever since you were just this dynamic duo.

When he was away filming, you missed him dearly, but it gave you time to spend with your cousins and family you don’t get to see as often.

“Any plans for his return home?” your tia asked, interrupting your thoughts.

“Well, I do have my tournament coming up, which is out of state and papi said we can go on a road trip. Take the scenic route and do all the stops.”

“He did mention that, he sounded pretty excited.”

“Yeah, plus this tournament is a pretty big deal, the top four teams will be competing to go to championship,” you explained. You wouldn’t say that soccer was your life, but you did love playing soccer. There was something about being on the field and just leaving everything on the sidelines, leaving all your trauma and past for a few hours and just being free.

You had gotten into soccer when you were fairly young. You remembered your parents always cheering for you in the sidelines and then it was just your dad, then sometimes it would only be your tia who always had her phone up with most likely, your dad on the other side of the phone. Slowly the emptier the sidelines got, the reason for you to play grew, the more you wanted to just be free from your mind.

The sound of your phone ringing interrupted your thoughts, you jumped up and ran towards your phone that sat at the kitchen counter. “Papi?” You said as you answered the call.

“Y//N,” he began to say.

“About time you called, I was beginning to worry you had missed your flight or something. Are you at the airport already?”

“No,” He sighed.

“You’re kind of cutting it close, you know that right?” you glanced at the clock, six thirty, it had read.

“Cariño, I need you to listen to me,” he sighed.

You sat back down at the kitchen table, “What’s wrong?” you asked. Your mind was quick to race to certain thoughts, someone could be dead, you thought. Who could it be? You had been with your tia Javiera for the past month and she was the oldest. Usually she was the first to know everything.

“I’m sorry, Cariño,” he began. Your heart began to race, an uneasy feeling crept over you like storm clouds. “I’m gonna have to stay here for a few more weeks.”

“A few more weeks? B-But you’ll be here for our road trip right?” You were met with silence, a sinking feeling took hold in your stomach, “Right?” you asked again.

“Mija,” he muttered. Pedro spent the whole day putting off this phone call for this reason. He had gotten your hopes up and he knew you weren’t going to take it easy.

“Did you tell them no?”

“I can’t tell the directors no,” he answered.

“Did you even try?” Your voice choked with disappointment, he couldn’t be doing this. He promised he wouldn’t become that parent.

“Mija, I can’t say no, I have to stay here and do reshoots.”

“But our road trip!” You exclaimed.

“I know and I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Just like you promised to take me on this road trip?”

“Mija, por favor, Don’t do this to me,” he said, Pedro felt his heart heavy, he knew he was disappointing you and as much as he wanted to tell the directors to shove it and say no, he knew he couldn’t.

“Or like how you promised you’d never do this? How you promised you wouldn’t become that person.”

“Y/N,” When the first name came out, you knew he was beginning to get upset.

“Mija, give me the phone,” your Tia stepped in. She knew someone might say something they might regret and she didn’t want to see either of your hurt. But she forgot to realize you were her brothers daughter and just like him, you were stubborn too.

You held onto the phone, “You promised,” disappointment written over your voice, tears began to well up in your eyes.

“I know,” he whispered. If you had only seen how torn your father was at the moment, maybe you would have been okay with situation. Or maybe things would have turned differently, but you could only hear his voice and although, you heard the disappointment in his voice, you couldnt be bothered to care about it. All that mattered to you was that he had broken his first promise and you didn’t know if this was going to be the first of many and if so, what was next?

Would you be one of those kids that grew up only seeing their parents on the holidays and eventually writing a book titled, “My Parent, the Mandalorian, and the neglect I endured.” You never wanted to be one of those kids and when your dad first began to get bigger roles, he had promised you that you wouldn’t. That he wouldn’t become one of those famous parents.

You remained silent, hoping it was some kind of sick joke and maybe he’d say something along the lines of ‘Gotcha!’ or maybe he’d say ‘I’ll be there tomorrow, don’t worry!’ But seconds pass and he didn’t say any of it. “Okay,” you finally said.

“Mija,” Pedro began to say but you handed the phone to your tia.

“Pedro, it’s Javiera,” your tia said, a somber look fell on her face when she had heard him apologizing when she first took the phone. She felt bad for her little brother, but she also felt bad for you.

“Is she still there?” Pedro asks

Javiera looked at you, you wiped away tears that were managing to escape. You groaned to yourself, irritated with everything around you, you left the room. “She just left,” she replied.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” she sighed.

“How do I fix this?” Pedro pleaded. Ever since your mother passed away, Pedro called his big sister for any little thing on parenting, he felt like every choice he made was the wrong one. Most of the time, it wasn’t, he was just overthinking it.

“There really is no way out of the reshoots? No way to reschedule?”

“Directors call,” he sighed. “I really fucked up, Javiera. No me va a perdonar” (She’s not gonna forgive me).

“No mas nicesieta tiempo. Let me talk to her, but for now… give her some space.”

“Are you saying not to call her?” Pedro questioned.

“Or text… just for a couple of days. If anything send her a goodnight text, but let’s not anger her more.” He let out a small sigh, Pedro always texted you. Even if he went the whole day without responding, he made sure to send a goodnight text every night.

“Alright,” he muttered. “I’m gonna need you to get in contact with the school, she’ll have to go with her team to the tournament.”

“I’ll contact them, and Pedro?”

“Mande?”

She let out a deep breathe, “It’s gonna be fine.”

Pedro tried his hardest to give himself a smile, to reassure himself that it would be fine and eventually it’ll pass, but he couldn’t. At the moment his heart was utterly broken, he had broken a promise, what felt like a sacred vow and now he had disappointed you. It probably wouldn’t be the first, but he sure as hell, hopes it wouldn’t become a habit.

Over the past week, you only left your room to go to school and shower. Your cousins dropped off your food in your room every day, you felt like they were somehow on your side. Your friends eventually began to blow up your phone, not only had you been distant with your family, but you’ve also been distant with them.

You felt your phone vibrate beside you, you groaned at the thought of getting a phone call from anyone. Picking up the phone you realized it was one of your teammates, Cassandra, “Yeah?”

“Finally you pick up,” Cassandra muttered. “Look, a bunch of us are going to go on a drive later tonight with Justin’s brother, he just got his license and we wanted to know if you want to join.”

“Can’t.”

“Oh come on, Y/N! You’ve been so distant and what will it hurt? You’re dad isn’t home anyway so he can’t say anything!”

You let out a sigh, she had a point, “I still have curfew.”

“So? Sneak out.”

You had to admit that Cassandra was a bad influence. She wasn’t your best friend, she was one of the girls in your soccer team. She was part of the older group in the varsity team, but she always invited you out. Part of you felt like she only did it because of your dads social status which is why you always declined her offer. That and because your dad didn’t really approve of you hanging out with her, he could always tell when someone was a bad influence. But Cassandra was right, he wasn’t here.

“Fine.”

“Really?” Cassandra asked taken back by your response.

“Like you said, my dad isn’t here, so it shouldn’t matter right?”

“Trouble in paradise?” She chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, “What time should I be ready?”

“We’ll pick you up at midnight, we’ll shoot you a text when we’re down the block,” Cassandra said before she hung up the phone. You felt your nerves beginning to get worked up, you had no idea what you just got yourself into, yet something inside you felt carefree.

If your dad were home, you knew he wouldn’t approve of you going out so late. He definitely wouldn’t have approved of you going on a joy ride with someone you didn’t even know and had just gotten their license. He wasn’t here though.

You remained in your room while you waited, your Tia Javiera came to check on you before she went to bed. Soon after you heard your phone vibrate on your desk, for a moment you thought it was Cassandra but it was still an hour away from midnight. You glanced at your phone,

Goodnight, Mija ♥️

It was a message from your dad. You rolled your eyes and put your phone away. You spent the rest of your time getting ready, you wore something simple, but made sure to cover up from the cold. A few minutes past midnight you received a text from Cassandra saying that they were waiting down the block. You began to quietly make your way out of the house.

“Where you going?” you heard someone whisper.

You turned around to see your cousin Pedro in the middle of the kitchen, “Pedro, what are you doing up?”

He held up a sandwich, “where you going?”

You looked at him with pleading eyes, “I’m only going to be gone for an hour, it’s just a drive around the block with some friends.”

He chuckled, “I don’t care what you do, Y/N. I’ve been there before. Have fun and if you go to McDonalds bring me some fries, kay?”

You rolled your eyes, “whatever.” You playfully flipped him off before walking out of the house. You made sure to close the door softly behind you. Once you were in the clear you booked it down the street. You spotted Cassandra waving you down from a dark green Tahoe.

“This car is a piece of junk,” you commented as you got into the Tahoe.

“Hey, no disrespecting Hilda!” The driver who you assumed to be Jasons brother, exclaimed.

“She’s a piece of junk but she’s Marty’s piece of junk,” Jason commented.

“Correct!” Marty said. “Now let’s get this party started!”

Pedro woke up in a startle to the sound of his phone ringing, at first he had thought it was just his dream, but the sound slowly began to get louder and louder until finally he woke up. He groaned, “who the fuck is calling so early?” he muttered to himself.

“Hello?” he answered in an annoyed tone.

“Pedro?” he heard his sister on the other line, her voice sounded strain.

“Javiera?” Pedro quickly sat up.

“Pedro,” Javiera’s voice trembled, there was some ruffling sounds on the other line.

“Javiera?” No answer. “Javier, que te pasa?”

“Pedro?” Javiera’s husband had taken over the phone.

“Augustine? Que esta pasando?” (What’s happening) Pedro was no sitting on the side of his bed, he no longer felt drowsy.

Augustine sighed, “Pedro, no se como dicier te. Y/N snuck out a few hours ago,”

“Shit,” Pedro let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding in. His mind had been racing to a million scenarios. “Well that’s a first,” he chuckled.

“Pedro,” Augustine said softly.

Pedro closed his eyes, the way Augustine said his name, he knew what it meant. “Is she okay?” Pedro asked as his voice trembled.

“She was in a car with a bunch of her friends and some drunk driver, he was driving over a hundred miles, the kid didn’t have a chance to react.”

“Augustine, is my baby okay?” Pedro was beginning to get ansty.

“She’s in the ICU,” Pedro could hear his sister crying in the background.

“Is she okay?” Pedro asked again.

“You need to get here as fast as possible, Pedro. She’s at Saint Mary’s Memorial Hospital, you know where that is?”

“Saint Mary’s, yeah,” Of course he knew where it was. He could never forget, it was the same hospital you were born at and now you were there again, but in different circumstances. Pedro was quick to hang up, calling his Director in the middle of night was something he would never do, unless it was something like this. Something like his daughter was hanging on by a thread and he didn’t care about anyones sleep, he just needed to get on the first plane back to New York.

The directors were understanding of the situation, they even helped Pedro get back to New York within the hour. He had never received treatment like that, but he was thankful for it.

Pedro had just a carry on, leaving most of his luggage back at the hotel with his assistant. He didn’t need much anyway, just the essentials.

Once he got out of the airport, he flagged down a taxi. The ride to the hospital seemed to be the longest ride ever. Pedro was anxious to get there, anxious to see you and to make sure you were okay. She’s in the ICU, Augustine’s voice kept repeating those words in his head like a broken record player. The sound of his sisters cries over the phone brought back memories he had thought he buried.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the brief halt of the car, Pedro looked out of the car window to see that he had arrived to his destination. “Thanks,” he said to the cab driver as he handed him some cash before bolting out of the car and into the hospital.

The sun was beginning to rise when Pedro finally arrived, he rushed over to the front desk. “May I help you, sir?”

“Uh- my, my daughter,” Pedro let out a shaky breath.

The receptionist knew that look too well, she had seen it so many times. “What’s the name?” she asked softly.

“Y/N Pascal.”

SHe was quick to type the name in, knowing that the last thing he wanted to do was wait any longer. “Take the elevator to floor three.”

“Thank you!” Pedro ran over to the elevator, punch the button for floor three.

He ran out of the elevator once they opened.

“Pedro!” He heard his sister exclaim.

Pedro let out a sigh of relief, he ran over to her and gave her a hug.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

“It’s alright,” he looked over at his nephews, they both were distraught of the situation. “You boys okay?”

Young Pedro looked over at his uncle, tears in his eyes, “I should’ve stopped her, Tio. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he pulled his nephew into the hug. Pedro didn’t know why he was trying to comfort everyone at the moment, maybe a part of him felt like it was his responsibility because he felt so much guilt. “Where is she?”

“The doctors have her in surgery right now, she had some internal injuries they hoped to repair.” Pedro choked back the tears, he sat down on one of the chairs nearby. “They said by the looks of the crash site, she got the worse of it. She was sitting in the spot the car impacted with.”

Pedro pinched the bridge of his nose, “How bad is it?”

“The doctors said something about possible physical therapy,” Javiera added. “It’s still all unknown at the moment.”

“This is all my fault.”

“Don’t say that, Pedro.”

“She isn’t that kind of kid, Javiera! She would’ve never done this unless she was really mad at me,” Pedro let out a shaky breath. Javiera placed a comforting hand on her brothers shoulder. “I can’t lose her, Javiera,” Pedro sobbed.

“I know,” she whispered. She let Pedro cry into her shoulder and he cried for a while. After about an hour, he began to calm down, everyone sat in silence as they waited for the doctors to come out. Hours passed by when finally a doctor walked out of the doubled doors and to the Pascal family.

“Family of Y/N Pascal?” the doctor nervously figeted with his hands.

Pedro stood up quickly, “How is she?”

The doctor cleared his throat, he never like this part of the job, speaking to the family. “There was a lot of damage and we did the best we could,” Pedro felt a sob make its way into his throat, he tried his best to hold it back, it wasn’t bad news yet. “But she’s steady now.” Pedro let out a deep breathe. “This isn’t the end of her journey yet, she has a long road of recovery. She’s lucky to be alive.”

Pedro had tears falling from his eyes, his baby girl was okay. “Thank you,” he said to the doctor, “Can I see her?”

“Of course, I’ll take you to her.” The doctor led Pedro through the doubled doors, “She’s in the post Surgery, we’ll be moving her back to the ICU later today.” The doctor stood beside one of the doors, “She’ll have a lot of wires surrounding her, it may look scary but it’s what’s keeping her alive. She might not wake up right away, if anything we don’t expect her to wake up for a few days. It’s common in severe crash victims,” the doctor explained. “The tube in her throat will be taken out once she can breathe on her own.”

“Can I touch her at least?”

The doctor nodded, “It’s like handling a newborn, you have to be a bit careful.” The doctor tried to give Pedro a reassuring smile.

“Thank you,” he said softly before opening the door. The doctor was right, the way the wires surrounded you scared Pedro. “Oh baby girl,” he said softly as he walked up to the bed. “I’m sorry,” he let out a sob. He sat on the chair beside your bed, taking your hand into his, he placed a kiss on the top of your hand. “I’m sorry I broke our promise, but you need to wake up for me okay?” He slowly moved a strand of hair out of your face, careful to not touch the tubing and wires. “Te quiero mucho, Y/N. No puedo vivir sin ti.” (I love you so much, Y/N. I can’t live without you).

As the days passed, Pedro stayed beside your bedside during the day and during the night. He never left your bedside, not even to shower although he was beginning to get remarks about how he smelled. He didn’t care, he wanted to make sure he was there when you woke up.

It had been a full week and you still hadn’t woken up. The doctors were beginning to worry, they started to do more tests to make sure they didn’t miss anything before or to see if anything new showed up.

“Pedro, you need to go home and at least shower,” Augustine said as he placed a plate of food on a small table nearby.

“I’m fine,” Pedro said as he kept his eyes on you. Augustine sighed, it was no use, there was really nothing that was going to convince Pedro to leave the room.

“Come on, Cariño,” Pedro said softly. “You need to wake up.” he squeezed your hand gently. Pedro was about to let go when he felt you squeeze his hand, his eyes widen and he squeezed your hand again. Few seconds later your squeezed his hand, “Yes!” he exclaimed. He got up from his chair, “She squeezed my hand!” he yelled out to the nurses that were outside the door. They came rushing in, beginning to check your pupils and your vitals.

“Get the doctor,” one of them commanded the other.

The doctor was ecstatic to see the vitals go up, “Y/N, if you can hear me, squeeze your dads hand.” You squeezed your dads hand again. Seconds later your eyes fluttered opened, you winced at the brightness of the room. You felt something lodge in your throat, you lifted your arm to touch it, “no, no we’ll take it out for you, dear.”

“She’s awake,” Pedro said in disbelief.

“We’ll need to get the tubing out,” the doctor said. Pedro got up from his spot on the bedside, let the doctor take the tubing out from your mouth. “Your mouth is gonna feel dry for a couple of days, it’s common,” he began to say as he checked your pupils again. “Do you know where you are?”

“The-” you coughed, a nurse handed your cup of water. “The hospital?”

“Good, what year is it?”

“Twenty Twenty Three.”

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“And who’s that?” The doctor pointed over at your dad.

“My dad,” you said softly.

The doctor smiled, “We’ll run some more tests later,” he said to your dad, “I’ll leave you two alone for a now.”

Your dad thanked the doctor, he waited until they all left to go back to his spot by the bedside. You bothe remained quiet for a few minutes, one waiting for the other to speak. The other trying to get the courage to speak.

You let out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry,” you whisepred. “It was really stupid.”

Pedro shook his head, pulling you into a warm embrace, “It doesn’t matter,” he said softly. “All that matter is that you’re here and you’re alive.” He let go of the embrace, holding your head in his hands, “that’s all that matters to me right now, okay?” You gave him a nod, “I thought I was gonna lose you,” he choked out.

“I’m sorry,” you trembled.

“Que paso, Amor? How did it happen?”

You shrugged, “One second we were heading back and the next thing I know, I heard screaming and it was dark,” you sniffled. “Is everyone else okay?”

Your dad nods, “You got the worse of it. Cassandra was pretty shooken up, but they all got minor scratches and concussions.”

“Lucky me,” you said sarcastically. Your dad kissed the top of your head, “I really am sorry about everything.”

“No, I’m sorry, I broke a promise.”

“I overreacted,” you confessed.

“I don’t think you did,” he said softly. “I mean, I get it, we had a promise I wouldn’t break promises or cancel on you for work, especially with thing like your tournament. I wouldn’t let you become one of those kids with a book on how their parent was the worst parent ever.” you chuckled, causing your dad to smile, “I broke that promise and it scared you, and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you and I’m sorry I overreacted and landed myself in the most expensive place on earth that isn’t Disneyland.”

Your dad let out a laugh, “Forgiven.”

“Forgiven,” you repeated. “Now, how bad is this?” you gestured to your broken leg, “Is my soccer career totaled?”

“Soccer career? I thought you wanted to become an actor like your old man?”

“Well, acting wasn’t my first choice, but depending on this, it might just become my first choice.”

Pedro rolled his eyes, “Well, you’ll have physical therapy for sure, but let’s talk about it when we get there.”

“Alright, but can we talk about something else?”

“Dime (tell me).”

“Can you go shower?” you scrunched up your nose, “I’m pretty sure your B.O. is what woke me up!”

Pedro rolled his eyes, “Alright, alright, I’ll call your tia over to be with you while I go shower.” Pedro watched as you covered your nose in exaggeration, usually he would say something petty, but right now he just wanted to admire you and the fact that you were still alive. “Te amo, mija.”

“Y yo a ti, papi,” you gave him a smile, knowing that everything was going to be okay and that if you did write a book in the future, it’d probably be about how you grew up blessed to be Pedro Pascal’s daughter.

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01 @tracysnookok @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday @graciegoeskrazy

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