#And then idk what happened but like an hour later I was having a panic attack in an m&s why was I in there man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

weebsinstash · 10 months

Note

for the whole marriage thing, it would be kinda funny if you marry someone else out of spite, especially right after Miguel found out that you two were actually destined for each other.

You, out of breath and looking upset: Dude, this is gonna be a lot but, I need your help doing something to spite Miguel--

Hobie: don't even have to finish mate, you've already sold me on it

You: you and I need to get married because I wanna be my own person and rebel against Miguel because he wants US to get married but I don't want to because fuck him and fuck canon and I wanna choose my own destiny idk am I being dumb 🥺

Hobie, who Definitely Has Nothing To Gain Here Wink Wink: alright, that's what I'm talkin about, fuckin mental, let's do it 😌 fight the man ✊️

But no for real, you were actively avoiding relationships and suddenly Miguel hits you with "you and I are canon and I want to start getting to know each other better" and you're, I dunno, would "panic fucking" work. Would you be so bold. You're just trying to hook another person that YOU choose (and again Hobie would still apply here lmao) because, no, no, you can't let canon TRAP you like this!! And it would fucking suck if you had like, neutral or even negative feelings about Miguel. Shit, I've thought of, imagine being his FWB that he's actually catching feelings for but then the Miles Morales Incident happens and, you're just kind of disgusted how he acted, how he spoke to Miles, how he treated Gwen, but before you can officially tell him "hey, I want nothing to do with you anymore", that's when Miguel comes to you wanting to get more serious and he uh, does not accept you wanting to move on

I guess detouring into a different idea but imagine being kind of a FWB or fling of his that you kind of moved on from him from for whatever reason (he can have a temper, he can be too intense, you don't like when he did xyz, or maybe you're a free spirit and don't want to get serious and break things off when you feel he's too clingy) and he like. Cannot accept you've moved on. He's cockblocking you at the Spider Society bars n clubs and little holes in the wall where the adults go to drink and get together. By reputation alone, people know to avoid tou because Miguel wants you back, everyone still sees you as His Girl, like he's claimed you, but he still catches people dumb enough to get close to you (and I imagine his surveillance slips or he gets busy and you have a casual fuck under his radar and he sees hickeys or something on you later and goes ballistic)

But yeah gosh imagine like, he tells you up front you two are canon and not even 24 hours later you can notice the atmosphere has changed in the Spider Society with how people treat you in terms of respect, personal space, not being too touchy or overly familiar, but, most importantly, you just feel. Awkward. It's like everyone knows. Did they all know before you did, or did Miguel quickly spread the news around? You're not sure which of those is worse. He's wanting to get you know you more intimately, he wants to try and take you on dates, but, he sucks at it, he's been out of the game way too long and he's a stressed temperamental half-spider workaholic, so, his dates amount to, him just trying to spend time with you in different ways while trying to make awkward small talk. He takes you to dinner. He sees if there are any movies or entertainment you wanna see in the Spider Society, making awkward attempts to try and hold your hand

But also. Imagine. A version of Miguel that wants to move much faster than that. I mean, you two are going to be canon, so, you might as well get acclimated to him right away, right? He wants you to immediately spend more time with him, he starts controlling where you are and what you do so he can be spending time with you or connected to you in some way, you're living with him in his own residence now, he INSISTS you sleep in the same bed like a married couple, and while he may not immediately demand you do what married couples do, he makes it clear that he wants to eventually. God, you can barely even relax knowing he's in bed with you and he still forcibly cuddles you, getting used to feeling his body against your own (and what if he slept in the nude 😳 he provides you pj's but they're kind of small and thin and he keeps the room cold on purpose so you have to seek his warmth under the covers)

Miguel is like an established adult in his 30s or something all "we'll get to know each other and then we can start planning our wedding. We'll have dinner dates at least once a week and we'll have joint bank accounts--" meanwhile you're just sitting over here like " um 🥺 I um 🥺 have never really even dated anyone before 🥺" and suddenly this 6 ft 9 man is looking down at you realizing there's a lil bit of an age gap and definitely an experience gap and he gets to have all of your "firsts" and he's Just So Weird About It in like, kinda a fetish way. He gets to have your first kiss, your first time (maybe he even wants to wait until marriage), he gets to teach you things, like, lowkey it's kinda like a mentorship as well as a relationship, he's your teacher, your protector, your husband, your jailor

Like imagine you finally have your first baby and you're freaking out and you're so scared and worried about doing everything absolutely perfect and he's just like, so happy but also kind of romanticizing/fetishizing you being a new/first-time mom, he thinks you're so cute, so eager to do good and learn how to do the best for your baby. He teaches you all kinds of things about childcare and being pregnant since, he's already cared for his fiance before his canon event, he remembers all the things he learned to become a dad, all the things he picked up during the second go around, and now everything new he's learned just for you. I mean really if we follow the combo comic/movie canon, you're the first time he's getting a BABY baby and getting to raise it and do everything from the start, and it's his CANON baby so he knows you're both safe.

I just feel like between his literal list of trauma (beaten by abusive father who also abused his mom, he was betrayed and drugged with a highly addictive and agonizing substance to basically be enslaved, he was sabotaged and atomically spliced with a spider while trying to cure said addiction, his pregnant fiance died, his second family died as well as an entire universe) and him not really even having much of an OPTION with breaking canon at risk (which would have such a domino effect because it happening in his Nueva York would dismantle THE ENTIRE SPIDER SOCIETY, so, this is like, QUARDUPLE RISK) he would just. Like damn you don't even need to have yandere stuff in there, he HAS to make you stay with him? Obviously he eventually has no problem with it and fully enjoys the excuse if he wasn't crazy about you on sight, but like. LMAO you're just hanging around HQ with big sad eyes and people are whispering "who's that over there that Miguel is hovering over" "oh that's Miguel's wife. she's scared of him and he's way too intense" "well why doesnt she just leave him" "can't, they're canon, and even if they werent, i dont think he'd allow it. Shit just the other day she wanted to leave HQ to swing through the city and she didn't get his permission first and Miguel activated the Morales Protocol and sent us all chasing after her" "like ALL all?" "Oh yeah it was totally an 'all available units' situation, and once she saw she was being chased she started freaking out and panicking and tried to run, which pissed him off even more, and is why she's got a babysitter now" "oh wow, that's rough... so anyways do you know what they're serving in the cafeteria today?"

#miguel o'hara x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere spiderverse #yandere stuff #sinprompts #woe! my constant barrage of long cringe posts be upon ye

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kristlewrites · 7 months

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“Lucid Dream”

CW: cheating(?),semi-public sex (elevator),smut, oral(f!receiving),nicknames (baby,mamas,ma), unprotected sex.

PAIRING: Ex!Zoro x Blk!FemReader

WC: 1.8k

🫧🗯️: Didn’t expect so many people to actually vote lmao..😭😭, but ty to all those who have!! This is made just for you guys. First of all it wasnt supposed to last a week, but as soon as I saw zoro taking the lead I had to write this. So ill make another one based off whose in second place!! lmk if i missed anything for the content warning!!

MINORS DNI

(rêve!!)

You pick up your phone, it's ten pm.. It's been over an hour since you arrived. You spent even longer getting ready. Wrapped in a beautiful emerald dress with gold accessories to match you felt amazing, but that feeling quickly went away once you realized your date wasn't coming. Picking up your phone you see his message.

"Sorry, I can't make it…maybe next time?”

Maybe next time my ass! You cannot believe this. You slam your phone onto the table and leave, storming off in the direction of the exit. Wiping away your tears as they stream down your face and hurrying down the restaurant stairs. Making your way out you step into the cold Atlanta night. Using one hand to warm up your bare shoulders you use your other to grab your phone to call an Uber...except that it wasn't in your purse.

Dammit! You had left it on the table. Practically out of breath from the stairs you pick up your pace gearing towards your table. But when you finally reach your table you are met with someone you'd rather not see again. Especially tonight out of all nights!

Pulling out a chair for a blonde??! You see his gorgeous mint hair first.

“Fuck!” you whisper-shout making sure he doesn't hear. You quickly snatch your phone as fast as you can, apparently too fast because now the glass of water has fallen onto the mint's lap. “Oh my god..” you gasp, You cannot believe your luck.

The man looks up in response to your voice, recognizing it almost instantly. You guys make eye contact for about a solid second, but that was enough to make you fold. You ran away, breaking for the elevator, you wanted to get away from all of this. The blonde shouting in the background for spare napkins. You cannot believe you just saw your ex, at a restaurant out of place. Not only that but with someone else!!! It's been only three months since you broke up with him.

Now you were really crying, you walked into the elevator and pressed some random ass buttons, you just wanted to be home. To dazed in your own world you didn't even realize Zoro being right next to you in the elevator, he pushes the first button which you had already pressed undoing the action. “It was already going down…” you whisper and go back to press the first floor button.

“Well, I didn't mean to press that one. I was gonna do the third floor” He hits the third floor button, not even a second later he presses the first floor again!

“You are so..” You seethe. This nigga cannot be serious at all. Just when you are about to hit the first floor button, the elevator rocks.”Fuck..what the actual fuck.” You are absolutely losing it, no way this is happening to you. You start spamming the panic button, yelping for help hoping someone would hear.

“Relax, someone is probably already on their way.” Zoro sitting down already making himself comfortable.

“Relax..?1!! Nigga are you fucking insane? I feel like I'm boutta explode.” You pace around the room thinking of possible solutions.

Zoro grabs your ankle and halts you in place, “Stop moving around, you're gonna make us more stuck. Just try and sit down”

“You moron that's not how it works..” You kick his hand from your ankle cause who does he think he is? He removes his jacket, and places it down underneath you, he pats the jacket a couple times gesturing for you to sit down. Hesitantly you go down and sit down with your legs in a 45 degree angle (?) (idk it's hard to explain, but like that sit you do when you're on the floor and you dont want yo panties showing.)

“Who was she?” you ask, staring dead at your phone, no service on your phone either.

You hear a small chuckle and immediately regret everything.

“Why are you here?” He asks looking you up and down, you know you look good and damn he knows it too. Green is his color and to see you look pull it off better than him makes him proud a lil bit.

“I asked the question first.” You utter and stand right back up, only for him to drag you down. “What is wrong witchu!”

“Her name is Dahlia, Sanji he had us go on a blind date, I had only met her like two hours ago” Zoro had finally admitted, rubbing his forehead. You laughed a lil, just the idea of sanji going through all that trouble. His face nearly illuminated when he heard you laugh, it's been almost three months since he last saw you let alone heard you laugh like that.

You check the time, it's been twenty minutes already and there's been no sign of help. How is this possible if the restaurant still should be opened? How have they not been able to get any help?? By this time you and Zoro were about an inch apart, he was glaring at you not in a mean way but in a possessive way. You guys were just staring at each other not saying a word.

Within a split second Zoro had quite literally grabbed you and plopped you down right onto his lap, still damp from the water, and kissed you. You almost instantaneously returned the kiss. It was absolutely exhilarating, you've missed him so much. Tongues were clashing teeth clanging it was messy but you loved every second of it. You pushed away, trying to catch yo breath.

“What about your date..?” you were panting so hard and out of breath.

“Man fuck Daffodil” he said, reaching his fingers to your cheeks “Ive missed you so much baby” Caressing your soft skin

“I've missed you too” You were definitely gonna regret this the next day, but with his stunning face and practically hypnotizing smile it was hard to go against anything he was doing.

He begins to remove your sleeves, bringing down your dress revealing your cutie pink lace bra. Your hands react quickly and cover your boobs,

“Awe baby don't be shy” he pouts a little and undoes your bra tossing it next to him. He immediately latches onto your brown nipples sucking and licking them like a starved baby. You start grinding against his crotch becoming impatient. Sure you've had a few one night stands after you guys broke up, but quite clearly none of them met up to the bar that zoro had established long ago.

“Seems like you’ve really missed me heheh ” He laughs a bit at your desperate grinding. You were too focused on reaching your high to even feel embarrassed. Zoro noticed this, the increasing moisture from your underwear “woah, not without me mamas.”

He moves his coat and places it behind you, with ease he sets you down on your back with your wet panties facing him. He tears off your underwear so aggressively it’s for sure torn, He rubs his hands together and licks his lips before diving into your cunt.

“Ah” you exclaimed, it was all so sudden you didn’t have a chance to even think about it.

“Ma, I’ve missed hearing your voice so much” zoro groaned, but you couldn’t hear him with all the squelching from him absolutely raving in your pussy. He was going up and down on every corner, letting his tongue fly in n out your pussy. Your thighs started closing in on him

“I-i'm cummin’” you moan out loud grabbing on to his short minty hair, letting your orgasm flow out with zoro still licking it up

“so sweet, can't get enough”, he pants while still lapping at your drenched pussy. Your legs Leg’s jittering, heart racing, you haven’t felt this way in months. Retracting his head from your now damaged cunt, he licks up all remaining cum from his lips. He lowers his pants and boxers, to reveal his pulsating cock leaking with pre-cum already. “You still on the pill?“ he asks, with his tip already teasing your entrance. You nod, too dazed to even speak. With no second to waste his dick already making it way into your pussy, you hiccup at the suddenness. “That’s right mama, take me nice n slow” he mutters, going in at lagging pace.

“Fast, go faster” you say airily as you squeeze your pussy wanting more. He obeys and picks up pace with your fat cunt enveloping his dick so well, the sound of his balls slapping your ass and the subtle moans escaping your mouth fill up the air as both of you guys are now short winded you can feel his dick reach up every inch of your vagina.”Z-zoro, I’m gonna c-cum!” You scream, whilst creaming all over his dick. Hearing his name come out of his mouth was enough to send over the edge and fills you to the brim with his warm cum. Breathing hard he removes he cock from your pussy and marvels as, his cum flows out of your pussy.

Banging from the outside, got you straight up. “We’re gonna get you out of there, helps coming give us five minutes!” A man shouts.

Zoro helps you dress back up, because your whole body is aching. Even with the jacket the floor was still pretty rough. He helps gather up the piece of your underwear keeping one of them ‘for a souvenir’ he explains to you, you roll your eyes too tired to even argue. Meanwhile zoro buckles up his pants and tries his best to clean up any leftover cum on the floor, while you sit down by the door damn near immobilized.

The doors finally open up, and the cacophony of fire trucks and power tools was already enough to send you into a spiral. Trying to stand up you’re a lil wobbly, zoro grabs your hand aiding you out. The whole staff is outside all lined up cheering for your rescue. “How long has it been?” you ask clearly, you are absolutely exhausted.

“Forty minutes” zoro responds. He lends you his jacket once you get outside. “Where’s your ride?”

“I don’t have one, I’ll just get an Uber.” You answer fishing for your phone in your purse.

“Here, I’ll take you home” zoro says, walking towards his car acting all nonchalant..

‘Who does this nigga think he is?’ you think to yourself while trying to keep up with him. “how are you gonna offer me a ride then leave me chasing you..goodnight you know i can’t even walk properly.” You shout, the audacity is crazy.You can practically hear his eyes rolling when he stopped in the middle of the road turning around towards at a concerning pace. He grabs your waist and hangs you over his shoulder, flailing your feet and hands “Let me go nigga!”

“Weren’t you jus complaining…right, stop moving before I really leave you” he replies in an irritated voice.

regardless of his warning you continue to flail around, jus for the fun of it hitting his ass and laughing. zoro continues to walk, you can’t see his face but he smiles a lil at the sound of your laughter. He wishes that this would last forever.

(Thank you all for the support on my first fic!!)

#Kristlewrites🫧🗯️#roronoa zoro #zoro #one piece #zoro x black reader #one piece smut #zoro smut #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x blk reader #zoro x reader #one piece fanfiction #black reader #black writer #one piece x black!reader #one piece x reader #black reader smut #zoro x y/n #x black reader

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demieyesore · 6 months

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Burnout - Enzo Berkshire

Summary - GN!Reader is stressed and having a panic attack over schoolwork when Enzo finds them and comforts them

Warnings/Mentions - Mention of a teen wolf scene, so potential spoilers for that show (I can’t remember how far in the scene was in the show), Reader has a crush on Enzo which he definitely reciprocates, I’ve never read the fanfic Enzo comes from so idk how in character this is </3 but I imagine him to be sweet but not tooth rotting, he’s still a little bit of a dick because he’s a slytherin, oh and Y/n is used in this fic

A/n - I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT WRITING FOR SO LONG😭😭😭 BUT IM BACK TO START UP AGAIN BUT UNFORTUNATELY THERE ARE NO PROMISES HOW LONG I WILL BE WRITING FOR BECAUSE I TEND TO HYPERFIXATE🧍🏻

Requested - Yes!

POV - 3rd person

Word Count - 712

Y/n had always been a hardworking student, constantly striving for academic excellence. So when they received a study guide for their upcoming test, they immediately locked themselves in their room and spent hours studying.

They poured over their notes, highlighted important information, and even made flashcards to help them remember key concepts. They sacrificed their social life and even skipped meals just to ensure they were fully prepared for the test.

The day of the test arrived and Y/n entered the classroom feeling confident and ready. As they sat down at their desk, they took a deep breath and began to tackle the questions on the exam. They thought they had done well and felt relieved as they handed in their test to the teacher.

A few days later, Y/n received their paper back and to their horror, there was a big red "F" written in bold at the top. They couldn't believe it. After all the time and effort they had put into studying, they had failed the test.

Their heart began to race and their palms grew sweaty as they felt a panic attack coming on. They quickly gathered their things and ran out of the classroom, desperately trying to calm themselves down. But the more they tried to calm down, the worse the panic attack became. Their breathing was becoming more and more rapid as they ran through the halls to find a private area.

Just when they thought they couldn't take it anymore, and just when they found a quiet space. Enzo came running after them. Lorenzo Berkshire was not only their best friend, but also their secret crush. Enzo could see the distress on Y/n’s face and immediately knew something was wrong.

Without hesitation, the slytherin wrapped his arms around Y/n and whispered soothing words in their ear. Things like “Hey, it’s alright.” “I’m here..it’s gonna be okay.” And so on. He made sure to remind them to take deep breaths and that it was just one test, not the end of the world.

Slowly, Y/n’s breathing began to regulate and their heart rate slowed down. They looked up at Enzo with tears in their eyes, grateful for their calming presence. Enzo wiped away their tears and pressed a small kiss to their forehead.

“Feeling better, Love?” Enzo’s eyebrows were knitted together in worry, yet there was still a sweet smile on his face. Y/n nodded before deciding to get it all off their chest.

“I just…” They started, thinking of how exactly to word their sentence. “I spent so long studying. I wasn’t even taking care of myself properly. All just so I would pass the test. But I didn’t. I still failed it and now it just feels like I wasted my time.” Y/n finishes with a huff of air, showing just how frustrated they were.

Enzo nods his head. “Do you often have panic attacks? Over school?” Enzo knew Y/n so well but they had always been slightly closed off about certain things. One of those topics happened to be their mental health. While yes, they would rant to him about things or sometimes make self deprecating jokes. They almost never showed him how bad it would get.

There was only one or two times that Enzo could remember where Y/n got so upset and cried in front of him. The first time he didn’t know what to do, he just stood there shocked. But he did try his best to calm them down.

Y/n thought it over in their head before answering. “Sometimes…it usually happens in my dorm when I’m alone. Sometimes during lunch but I would just go to the bathroom..” Enzo gives them a sympathetic look which soon turned into a small mischievous smile.

“How about…” The brunette began.

“The next time you have a panic attack, we can try out that one scene from the show you like. Teen wolf? Where stiles has a panic attack and Lydia kisses him to stop it.”

“Is that your way of saying you want to kiss me???” Y/n retorted, heat flooding their face.

“I thought that was obvious? Was it not?” Enzo tilted his head as Y/n started laughing.

#slytherin boys #harry potter #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x you #comfort #fluff #fanfic

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rainswept · 7 months

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you ask for Fontaine brain rot/reqs, I deliver.

So idk if you've done the recent archon quest and lyney/lynette story quest so if you haven;t be careful caus i will be spoling !

That part where Lyney is freaking out over Freminet and Lynette had me SCREAMING especially since ive done their story quest AND ALSO FRIENDSHIP 10 LYNEY SO I HAVE THE LORE AND IT HURTS SM but I won't spoil all that for u-

so anyways, i started thinking, imagine Lyney has a lover who's been with the siblings for years (and also works for Arlecchino) and is considered another sibling by Lynette and Freminet. They were also diving with Freminet when they encountered water from the primordial sea

now imagine clorinde can only take one person with her at a time when she pulls them back, and she saves Freminet first, later going back for Lyney's s/o

Eventually Freminet wakes up like he does in the quest, but the reader just.. doesn't. Hours pass and the siblings are freaking tf out because they don't want to lose anyone.

(now I can't decide if I crave angst or if I want to comfort my babies so ill give my headcanons for both shiguegoe)

angst: Lyney's lover keeps deteriorating, parts of them gradually turning blue and quite literally withering away (caus you know the water and the dissapearances- yeah-) and the siblings can do nothing but watch

Lynette shuts down more frequently and for longer periods, not even saying anything to Lyney

Freminet blames himself for not noticing sooner, for not getting them out sooner

And then there's Lyney.. he blames himself for not only putting his siblings in danger, but losing his lover...

He sits by their bed watching as they wither away, holding their hand. He knows Father will be upset by his lack of comitment to the mission but he can't bring himself to care

The day they pass, no one says a word. They continue with their mission, report to Father, go on with their Fontainian lives until they're alone and they cry. they cry and scream and curse whatever archons or god's are listening.

AND NOW BEFORE I CRY THE HAPPIER VERSION

After days of not waking up, they finally open their eyes.

Lyney is fretting over them asking if they know where they are, who he is, what happened etc

now to throw in a tidbit of angst, what if they awoke with some disability? like they cant see anymore, they can't hear properly, cant walk properly etc

Lyney and Freminet would devasted because they blame themselves. Lynette would be quick to remind her brothers at least everyone is alive.

It'd be bad because with a disability, they can't work for Father anymore, or at least not the way they used to

AHHEOGUHEOG im stuck in a neverending brain rot my guy

Anyways. I was actually going to request for you to write your own take on this but you don't have to if you dont want- even just hearing your take would be nice lmao

also if its ok i reallly wanna be mutuals! I just found you blog and im obssesed!! I really wanna be friends<3

NO BECAUSE I SCREECHED SO LOUD MULTIPLE TIMES READING THIS !! THANK U SO MUCH YES OFC I WANNA BE MUTUALS/FRIENDS!! genuinely absolutely made my day to have u ask that oh my god??

also don’t worry about spoiling anything for me, i’ve read every little bit of lyney/lynette/freminet lore out there 😭 and i’ve done all of the new fontaine archon quests already (i need help. it’s okay though!)

as for angst — u know me so well already this is my forte. cracks knuckles here i go

freminet feels as if something is off.

already beginning to panic, he turns to you in a hurry. the water swishes in his ears. when you meet his gaze, wide-eyed, the gut ‘feeling’ turns into a full-blown punch to it. oh, now he realizes; he can’t breathe. his heart’s racing, chest tightening and throat feeling as if it’s closing up.

you reach out, and exchanging unspoken words, you two turn around and make to retrace your patterns with haste. hand in hand, you race against frittered time; but even your best efforts are not enough, and the both of you are forced to acknowledge it when freminet’s vision begins to turn spotty.

he got in the water first; he’s gone before you are. his body floats limp beside you as you drag him along through the water, even as the surroundings grow hazy for you, too. a cold tingle runs up your spine as you consider the possibility; is this the end?

(when you had left for the pipes, the most you had exchanged with lyney was a quick kiss on the cheek as a goodbye. that wouldn’t do.)

but even as you try desperately to cling to life .. the “sea” is a cruel thing, and it does not care for your mortal frivolities. (a proper goodbye? .. foolish.) with cold, disorienting water enveloping your senses from all sides, your only grounding thing being freminet’s (rapidly cooling) fingers against yours — it didn’t take long before you succumbed to the “sea”, too.

(your last thought as the world went dark was “i’m sorry.”)

(even in your barely conscious state, you feel another wave of panic surge through you when freminet’s fingers slip away from yours — but you don’t have enough energy to hold on.)

reader lives:

the incessant thrum of the water rushing through pipes rattled in your ears. your whole body was sore, weak and tired; and all of your limbs felt like lead attached to you via shoddy workmanship. your head hurt like hell, and what’s worse is that the moment you opened your eyes, you were immediately met with the sight of the three people you cherished most.

first, there was freminet, who was sitting on the bed opposite to yours. his posture fixes from a slouch into proper the moment he spots you, perhaps in.. excitement? shock? you weren’t sure. his eyes lit up, though.

second, there was lynette. she was .. a bit more on edge than usual. that was .. to be expected, of course, but really. you were out for.. what, an hour or two? come on, all four of you put yourselves in danger all the time. what was different about this?

(what was different was the fact that you were not out for an hour or two. no, make that days. they were sure to remind you of this.)

then, there was lyney. for him, the world seemed to stop.

lyney, who was pacing the room in sheer desperation. he walked and walked, boots timed and in tune with the clocks and dripping water from the pipes. in his nervousness, he had unwittingly created a quite fitting melody.

(the only sounds once he ceases walking are the clocks and the water dripping from the pipes.)

lyney, who had rushed to your bedside the moment he had noticed you were up. he looked exhausted, but the second you were awake the mask was .. attempted .. to be put back on. however .. it didn’t take someone as observant as you, or even one who knew him so well, to notice that it was placed crooked.

(how absurd he looked, trying to put on a front everyone in the room knew was one.)

why, even, you would have bet that it could’ve been surmised by a child. once again, emphasis on ‘you would have’, for there was no time for thinking about that when he rushed to your bedside and enveloped you into an embrace. you didn’t miss the way his fingers grasped at the back of your shirt in downright desperation.

(in clear, bold letters, it reads; “if nothing else, please let this be real.”)

he slots himself beside you and, wordlessly, holds you close. he doesn’t need words — neither of you do. this is enough.

lynette and freminet looked on, neither of them opening their mouths when lyney buries his face into the crook of your neck and stays there for just a bit too long. he doesn’t cry. instead, he whispers shakily against your skin; “i thought i’d lost you.”

(the only sounds once he ceases speaking are the clocks and the water dripping from the pipes.

(no one speaks up just yet.)

(the only sounds in the room are the clocks and the water dripping from the pipes.)

(you’re starting to think those were the only sounds ever there.)

when he finally pulls away, you notice he’s fixed his mask. lyney now smiles, and the shake in his voice is gone; but you know it’s not all better, not when he refuses to leave the infirmary even after sigewinne and the traveler inquire. you know it’s not all better, not when the four of you are alone again. lyney sits beside you on the bed, refusing to so much as stand up (he doesn’t want to let go of your hand. you don’t comment on it, but his fingers are still shaky as he holds onto yours like they’re a lifeline.)

you don’t exchange as much as a single word after that. you just bask in each other’s presence, apologies and pleas and “i love you” shared during every lingering glance between everyone in the room.

the four of you don’t need words. this is enough.

reader dies:

seven mistakes went unnoticed. seven signs went unfollowed. seven things (and five people) went wrong that day.

one: freminet.

it was entirely freminet’s fault, he thinks, it was. if only he had gotten you out of there in time. no — he shouldn’t have even brought you. he sits on the infirmary bed opposite to yours, knees pulled up to his chest, and he clutches pers with a death grip. he dips his head in such a way that his face is hidden with his hair; he doesn’t want to let lyney and lynette see him in this state. they have enough to deal with.

two: the primordial sea.

but they were bound to notice eventually, right?

“it was entirely the primordial sea’s fault,” lynette would remind, hand on freminet’s shoulder. “it wasn’t yours.”

the primordial sea. the cold and vicious waters were such a contrast to those he held so dear; what was typically calming and merciful turned to something suffocating and terrifying. but that didn’t change the fact that it was an inanimate thing.

he drops pers at the contact; it clatters to the floor; he looks down, wide-eyed and apologetic; he reaches down to pick it up. lynette does not put her hand on his shoulder again.

three: wriothesley.

“it was entirely wriothesley’s fault,” lyney wants to scream. he’s frantic, pacing the infirmary and voice cracking every time he speaks. lynette and freminet have seldom seen him so panicked. he needs to do something, he needs— he can’t. he can’t leave. once he gets his hands on wriothesley, he swears he’ll—

four: clorinde.

it was entirely clorinde’s fault. it was entirely her choice to pick only one of you to save. no one can bring themselves to be upset at her, for she did try to save both of you. but the realization slowly dawns upon the three children of the house of the hearth still with a steady heartbeat; it was either going to be you or freminet.

they realize this at different times. every time they do, they exchange a silent, quick glance.

freminet would’ve gladly given up his life. lyney and lynette, however .. they would not have been able to choose.

five: the gods.

it was entirely the gods’ fault. curse the gods, lyney thinks. he’s still pacing the room, and while he never put much stock in the divine, he was practically yelling at them now. he knew it wasn’t logical. but he needed something. what was the point of a god if not to help their people? what was the point of a god if just to watch people suffer like it’s an opera?

was she here now? was she watching? was this a “twist” for her? did she delight in this?

six: lyney.

it was entirely lyney’s fault. he shouldn’t have let you or freminet go. he shouldn’t have. he shouldn’t have let wriothesley play him like he was a deck of cards in his hands. this was all his fault. all his fault. he knew of the prophecy, dedicated his whole life to it — and yet hadn’t managed to save you from its clutches?

seven: you.

in truth — it was no one’s fault. but lyney is still pacing the room, breathing getting heavier and more rapid every time he steals a glance at you. lynette’s eyes still trace his every move, conveniently ignoring the sight of you as best she could; and freminet still has his face buried in his knees as to not look at your decaying body.

none of them can deal with the fact that it was simply an accident. no one meant for this to happen — there was no one to blame.

they needed someone to blame.

so each and every one of them blamed themselves. as lyney’s fingers grasped your cold ones, he squeezed them softly even as they began to turn blue beneath his grasp. he couldn’t bare to let you go.

and after three long days, the sun rose to find your bed empty where you had laid. you were nowhere to be found. for a moment, lyney’s heart practically leapt out of his chest, wondering .. did you get up?

but as he rushes to the bedside, his face falls. he should’ve known not to get his hopes up.

the blankets were damp where you had laid, soaked with water just as the stage in the opera epiclese had been.

lyney didn’t cry, nor did lynette or freminet.

they didn’t exchange so much as a word the day you died.

instead, they put their aching hearts and empty souls into the mission at hand. they worked twice as hard to distract themselves, and they provided excellent results for “father” — but they had barely worked together to do so.

they exchanged cold words and they held each other at night, when the pain became too much — because as much as they tried to pretend like nothing happened, that was a lie, just as the rest of their existence — but there was no mistaking it. they were now divided.

there was always you. and now there wasn’t.

lynette was the one who informed “father” of your .. whereabouts. lyney couldn’t bring himself to.

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yannaryartside · 2 months

Text

Why did Claire convince Carmy to drop HIS ideas for the menu?

So, did somebody else get upset when Carmy explained to Sydney that Claire made him realize "there are things I don't really care about...anymore" about the menu?

Like, wtf dude, this is YOUR menu, the whole point of your restaurant, why the fuck do you now think you don't care?

On Claire changing the menu

I think that Storer was really smart for not showing that scene, where Claire is comforting Carmy after his panic attack. Now, from what we can gather of the actual events, Carmy got a panic attack, then they talked about Donna driving a car through the wall of their house, and sometime before or after all that, they talked about the menu. A couple of things that, if they happened, could have been big red flags about Claire:

Why was Claire's solution to tell Carmy to forget about his original ideas for the menu? that is like "Oh honey does this cause your anxiety (you know, because you care about it) why don't you just drop it? Maybe then you will be happy" You have to treat the anxiety, not avoiding the things you care about because of it.

Did Claire dismiss Carmy's intentions on the menu, because it had to do with Syd? Like, did she actually recommended to drop it all because it would mean that Carmy and Sydney won't collaborate anymore? because Claire felt threatened? We all saw the way Claire looked at Syd.

Even if you could justify all this by "she was doing the best she knew to help him" I think the audience wouldn't have appreciated her talking Carmy into forgetting his vision for his own restaurant. That is the equivalent of Mary Jane telling Peter not to be Spiderman.

Now, and this is the really weird part, at this point Carmy is trying to make all the dishes his family made, but change them a little, recontextualize them. To make them "his own" and he told Claire about that, he part that is not clear is why he dropped the "thoughtful chaos menu" and just left the "chaos menu" My interpretation of this, again, is because thoughtful chaos can only be made by Carmy and Syd's collaboration. So Claire agreed with the things relating to the Berzatto traditions, but not, idk, Carmy's original vision for the restaurant, which may have not so much to do with her mother's recipes, and wanted to explore more to create something unique with Syd ideas too?

On Claire comforting Carmy.

Just a little last note. They had sex. Like, Claire and Carmy had sex after he got a panic attack, and the next morning he was still stressed as fuck. While just the memory of Sydney was able to calm him down from a huge panic attack (while he was thinking of Claire). Jejejeje.

Now...being serious. Idk if you think that offering sex for calming someone down is cute...I don't think it is. Even if they have already calmed down and you just want to "make their night better" or whatever.

Some people get really into sex while they get stressed, but a panic attack is more of an "I am dying' feeling, and it can depend on the person, Carmy is the kind who gets frustrated, exasperated, and violent while trying to handle his anxiety. So trying to make somebody not feel any of that that by asking them to be in the mood for fucking...Like "Oh, the trauma that you are trying to process right now honey, just don't feel it, but I want to fuck, and I know it can make you feel better" Personal opinion: gives me the ick, like 'Oh, my affection must be the answer to all your problems, my love is the only medicine you need" It all gets worse in my mind when I remember this woman is an emergency doctor, she is supposed to know some recommended procedures to help people with panic attacks, maybe she used them before they got into bed, but still, she can only presume that he is in a different head space just a few hours later, and you kinda look like and ashole if she offers and you say no.

I just don't like the idea of forcing mood changes on someone by offering them affection, especially sex. That can be really toxic for both parties.

#this post is all over the place but idk #Carmy changing his original vision because of his relationship with Claire still bothers me #the bear meta #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #the bear #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto #sydney x carmy #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmy x sydney #syd adamu

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ohbo-ohno · 8 months

Note

soap comforting you as ghost punishes you for (yet another) escape attempt, holding your face in his hands, giving you soft kisses and telling you how it's gonna be ok, he had to learn the hard way too, but simon's just doing what's best, he always knows whats best, and if you just stick with it like johnny did and keep taking it like a good girl you can be just as happy as johnny is, as simon beats your ass raw with a heavy leather belt.

ok i had to sit on this one for a few hours because oh my fucking god. oh my fucking GOD. this is so hot. idk who you are but we are getting married and i expect to see you at the courthouse tomorrow morning so dont be late.

im having heart palpitations over this. all the same cw for the fic (plus punishment spanking with a belt) below the cut.

You're shaking, chest heaving and knees weak as Johnny drags you behind him. You try to beg, to plead for him to let you go and to make him understand but he refuses, just scowls and growls out, "Stop throwin' a hissy fit. You shouldnta ran, you knew that. What happens now is all yer own fault."

He takes you into the bedroom, tugs you forward and shoves you onto the bed, then gets in behind you and hugs you tightly to him. He's unwilling to let you go as he worms his way into the position he wants, wiggling with just his legs to help until he's propped up on the headboard with you between his thighs. He doesn't move to comfort you or soothe your cries, just listens as you whine and sob.

Eventually Simon comes in, looking angry. You thought you had seen him mad before but now... this is another level. It's something you had spotted in Johnny when he first found you, the primal rage clear in his eyes, but it rides Simon's entire body. If you hadn't known you'd fucked up already, Simon's form would've told you.

He's literally shaking in rage. His hands are balled into fists, but there's a little tremor there.

His strides to the bed are quick, and he's got your neck in a tight grip before you realize he's on his way. He yanks you forward, nearly out of Johnny's arms, and growls right in your face. "Back where you fucking belong, huh pet?"

You can only shiver, too spooked to answer. He scoffs, shoves you away and leans back on his heels. "You did good, Johnny. You'll get your reward later, yeah?"

Johnny's still tense, every line of him beneath you hard and rigid. "Yes, sir."

Simon stares you down for a moment, then blows out a harsh breath through his noise and reaches down to begin unbuckling his belt. "Flip her over, Johnny. Want you to hold her still for her punishment."

Johnny's moving to follow his orders before they're even finished, flipping you with ease and pressing down on your lower back to keep you pinned.

"Hng-!" you grunt, trying to push up and away from sheer panic, but Johnny's not having it. He lands a powerful blow on your ass, shocking you into staying still long enough for him to grab your chin and yank up so you're looking at him.

"Gotta take your punishment, baby," he murmurs, eyes softening just the slightest bit at your panic-stricken face. "It'll all be over once you take it, yeah? We'll forgive you after."

"Johnny," you whine, hands coming up to scrabble at his chest as you feel the bed shift to one side. He makes a little tsk sound, grabs both your wrists and forces them to the small of your back, holding them there with one hand and stroking your cheek with the other.

"Hush, now.. No more talkin' til Simon says."

There's another harsh blow to you ass, this one stronger and from Simon. You can't stifle your yelp at the immediate ache. "Tell me why you're in trouble."

You can only sniffle, trying to yank your chin away from Johnny to bury your face in his chest. He doesn't let you.

Another smack. "C'mon, girl. Tell me why you're in trouble. You don't want to make me ask again."

You jolt a little at that, slightly reinvigorated in your squirming until Johnny's hold tightens to an almost painful point. You finally try to gasp out an answer. "I-I left, I wasn-wasn't supposed to leave."

There's a snarl from behind you, another smack. "You ran away. Good girls don't fucking do that. Anythin' coulda happened out there, coulda fuckin' died without us there. That what you want?" smack "Huh? Answer me, you rather die than be with us, pet?"

"No!" you sob, hips wriggling. "No, no! 'm sorry!" You're nearly wailing, the anticipation for your punishment driving you insane. You can't hold back the sobs.

"Calm down," Simon grunts, a heavy hand coming to push between your shoulder blades. "Panic'll only put the punishment off. Let's just get this over with, yeah sweetheart?"

You whine in reply, blinking a little to clear your vision and staring deep into Johnny's eyes. There's a stillness in the room for a moment, it feels like time completely stops as they give you a second to come back to yourself.

"Count them," Simon commands after you breathe evenly a few times. Your eyes furrow just a bit, Johnny's lips quirking up, and you hear a loud sound of something swinging through the air before your backside erupts in pain.

You practically scream, attempting to shoot away from Johnny. He's ready for you, muscling you back into place on top of him. He locks his ankles on top of yours, holds your legs down so you have no leverage.

There's another blow landed before you've fully realized what's happening. You let out a high shout again, eyes squeezed shut in pain as you're forced to just lay still and take it.

"Count, lass," Johnny murmurs, free hand stroking over your head far too softly considering how roughly he holds the rest of you.

Another blow, another shout, and in the short space between another you call out "Th-three! Three!"

There's a grunt from behind you, a hand stroking over one of your cheeks that has you yelping and trying to jerk away despite it's softness. "No. Start over."

Another blow. You wail in pain, sucking in just enough air to shout, "One!"

"Good. Again."

Another blow. They feel endless, you shouting and crying out in pain until it feels like your throat is bleeding, interspersed with what feel like empty comforts from Johnny.

"You're alright, lass, you can take it."

"F-four!"

"I know, I know it hurts, bonnie. You'll be alright, you're taking it so well."

"A-ah!"

"What number?"

"Five! Five, please, stop I can't-!"

"Simon's takin' real good care of you, baby. Just gotta teach you a lesson, yeah? Teach you what you did wrong."

"Six!"

"It's scary, isn't it? It's ok, you can handle it. Be a good girl for us now."

"S... seven, oh god-"

"Hush, you just have to let it happen. It gets better, you'll see. Simon'll show you."

"Eight... eight, please, I can't take it... I can't..."

"You can. I did it too, lass. It's hard, I know, but it's good. It feels so good once it makes sense."

"Ni...nine..."

"Just gotta go through it - no way past but through, yeah? You're being so good, baby, takin' your punishment so good."

"Ten..."

You hear something fall to the ground behind you and Johnny's hands release your wrists, reaching up to your arms so he can pull you up and tuck you beneath his chin, shushing you as you sob.

"There you go, love, you did it. Hush, now, it's ok, it's ok. You took it so well, such a strong girl for us."

"Johnny," Simon rumbles from behind you, and without further instruction he turns you a little away from his body, forces your head towards Simon. "Tell me why you were punished, sweetheart."

You can't make anything more than a noise of pain, the ache in your ass feeling like it's sunk to your very bones. Johnny makes a soothing noise in his chest, pets a hand through your hair.

"I..." you gasp a little, hiccupping. "I ran away. I'm not supposed to.. not supposed to run away."

"That's right," Simon cooed, all hostility and anger just gone from his voice. He reached for you and you couldn't help but flinch away, desperate to hide back in Johnny's neck. "No, don't hide from me, love. You took your punishment. It's over now, I'm not angry anymore."

You shake your head a little, unable to believe what he's saying. You're still locked in a haze of adrenaline, limbs shaking as they wait for more pain. There's a sigh from next to you, then strong arms wrapping around both you and Johnny. You can't hold back your little yelp, arms curling more tightly where they're wrapped around Johnny's neck.

Both of you are pulled to Simon's chest, his hand stroking from your head all the way down your back. His hand passes over your ass each stroke, and as time passes you flinch a little less each time. Your breathing is still unsteady, little whines creeping out of your throat every few gasps, but your heartrate slows and you relax little by little as there's no more pain.

"There, that's a good girl," Simon hums above you, hand not pausing it's trek down your spine. "You took my belt so well, did so good for me. Not gonna run away again, are ya?"

You shake your head with all the energy left in you, whining "No," in fear he hadn't understood your movement.

"That's right. Cause if you do, it'll be thirty with the belt."

#favorites #your ask is fantastic #asks and answers #bo writes #i did not edit this oops sorry #dlmliyh

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lewkwoodnco · 4 months

Text

tis the damn season - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: estranged best friends to lovers trope my beloved!!! 😍 AHHH this is one of my fav fics I've written in a while. Poem below is Golden Boy by Cecil Miller, and the Spanish line is taken from a streetcar named desire by tennessee (idk how 2 spell) williams! this might be less proofread than normal + includes a few of my pre-infection hallucinations? lottt of angst, wc 5.1k!!

P.S. I think I'll be doing a part 2 to buy me presents! but not until a little later ahah and also the 12 days of fics are totally going to spill over hahah

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Lockwood stares out the kitchen window. Both inside and outside, there is a bleak stillness in the air that sinks in his bones like a plague. It's too cold and too early in the morning for anyone to be properly out and about. But the season always messed up his sleep schedule more than usual, and now that they had taken a break from their cases for the holidays, there was nothing to occupy his treacherous mind, and its return to taut requirings of Christmases past.

Slowly, the other residents of Portland Row start to stir. George grumbles about their spluttering heating system and having to plod through the snow to get the mail, and Lucy promptly falls asleep in the cup of tea she's just brewed for herself. They were all exhausted, and rightfully so, given that the holidays was prime time for people to start looking into properly clearing out ghosts to keep their homes warm and cheery.

He slips out just as George's complaints about the heater start ramping up, and his mind is so scattered that he forgets to put his coat on. It's a little more brisk than what was completely tolerable, strictly speaking, but it was only just for a minute. When he reaches the mailbox, he runs into Mr. and Mrs. L/N, old family friends who had helped him more than he deserved over the years. They made some polite conversation while he rifled through the bills and letters.

"Oh, Anthony, we wanted to invite you over to tea sometime this week. Y/N's home for the holidays."

His hand slips and an envelope slices his finger open. It was bound to happen, given his glum and careless mood, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint to suppress his cry of pain in front of them.

"Home...as in here? London?"

Ever since she had left for boarding school, there would always be some talk of her dropping by for Christmas every year. But the plans would never be fully solid, or some other pre-existing commitment would prevent her from making the trip. He was suddenly feeling oddly claustrophobic. He glanced up and down the street, as if expecting her to be hiding in some bushes.

Mrs. L/N seemed to pick up on his distraction, and her brow furrowed with concern.

"Of course London. Where's your coat, dearie? Aren't you feeling chilly?"

"...yes. Now that you mention it...perhaps it's best I head back inside."

He gave a stiff sort of wave and walked back, mind reeling. Eight years. Eight years since he last saw her. What the hell was he supposed to do if he saw her now? How was he supposed to feel?

Luckily, he doesn't get much time to panic because as soon as he walks in, he narrowly dodges a wrench being lobbed at his head. Apparently, eleven freezing days with improper heating was more than what George could bear. It's usually a rather quick fix, but maybe the comparatively more extreme frost this year had corrupted the system beyond Lockwood's capabilities, because two hours later he was still no closer to getting it fixed.

Some time later, there's a knock on the door. He yells for someone to get the door, but he's buried too deeply in the house for anyone to hear him. Grumbling, he dusts himself off and walks to the door himself, head buzzing with frustration. He's so preoccupied with what more he could possibly do to get the heating working again that he doesn't think to check the peephole first. So when he opens the door, he gets the wind knocked out of him.

"Anthony."

It was her; rosy-cheeked yet looking effortlessly warm. Her facial features had lengthened and rearranged themselves as compared to when he last saw her, but there was still something expensive to the twist of her mouth and the crinkles near her eyes.

"It's been so long."

Even her voice was rich, like honey. Now that she was standing in front of him, the stitch in his chest from the morning seemed much more familiar. It had been some seasonally grievious paste that had coated his lungs and stoppered his mouth that made him feel eerily weightless if he dwelled on it too much.

He didn't know what to do. Exchange pleasantries, or skip to the part where he slams the door in her face? Before he could decide, he hears some shuffling behind him, and almost instinctively opens the door wider.

"Y/N. These are my associates. George Karim, Lucy Carlyle...Y/N L/N."

"Right. Lockwood and Co., was it?"

The four of them glance at each other, exchanging fleeting smiles for a good half-minute, before George has the sense to usher everyone inside for a cup of tea.

The kettle's already on, and George hands out the cups of tea waring mittens, his glasses barely visible behind the scarf mummifying the lower half of his head. If she notices the cold in the house, she doesn't comment on it.

They make some polite small talk. She's pleasantly amiable and a perfectly gracious guest, and talks about her Christmas dinner plans. Lockwood is disinterested and surly and wants to talk about his fragmented sense of self. At one point, his responses start to become so clipped that he earns a poorly concealed kick from Lucy, accompanied by a stern look. Luckily, it doesn't seem as if she's noticed. She was looking at the white blanket of snow over their garden carefully, as if dismissing their presence.

"Your garden looks beautiful. I'd love to have a look around."

George and Lockwood exchanged a look. It was freezing outside, and the harsh temperatures were clearly not worth braving for the little of the flowerbeds they could see. George opened his mouth to tell her as much, in his own snide way, but he hesitated. Lockwood felt his heart sink.

The thing was, she had had a magnetic effect on most people ever since they were kids, a quality that made it difficult for any grown adult to refuse her or for any child to oppose her. It was the same reason why she was sitting in his house, drinking out of his teacups, eating his share of biscuits (George and Lucy had clearly conspired as soon as they picked up on her staying for tea). But he had been sure that if there was anyone who could pull away from this siren call of hers, it would be George. The very boy who was meaningfully looking at him, trying to express some uncommunicable panic.

"Er...Lockwood?"

And so, he ended up taking her out for a brief and awkwardly quiet stroll in their garden once she was done with her tea. They meandered through the garden path stiltedly, and every snow-dusted weed and sapling seemed to astound her. Still, she divided her attention sufficiently to continue the ocnversation.

"Homeowner and agency head at fifteen. Impressive."

"Thank you."

"I bet you're the media's darling."

He shrugs.

She turns to him, eyes generously pooling with faux concern.

"It can't have been easy."

It wasn't easy, not that she would know anything about it. He wants to be spiteful towards her, lash out at her. God knows she deserved it. But something holds him back.

"So...that was George. And Luce."

She jerked her head back in acknowledgement, but he could see the slight smile playing at her lips as she did so. He had forgotten how terribly exasperating she could be.

"What?"

She shook her head, but that only made her smile grow wider, and so she finally relented. There's a vulpine twist to her lips that Lockwood has no patience for. "Nothing. I'm sure they're lovely people, of course. But if I wanted to know who you were hanging with while I was gone, I would have asked you."

He shrugged. "I wanted to share a bit of my life now. They're just about all of it."

She hums pleasantly, stopping short in front of one of the flower beds. She bends down and picks up a freshly fallen violet, its deep indigo harsh and unrelenting against the fresh, pure snow, against the season of vacancy and death. She holds it up in front of Lockwood.

"Viola Odarata. Symbolises humility. Flores; flores para los muertos. Flores."

A part of him wants to sneer at her in painful irony. How arrogant of her to think she could waltz back into his life as she pleased.

"That what they teach you in your boarding school? Useless facts about violets?"

She shivers, even though the air is completely still with no breeze, and her lips part. Too late, he realises he's gone too far. Her smile slips a fraction, and she takes on an air that makes him feel obliged to apologise. He resists it, and for a moment he sees something flash in her eyes, but it's gone before he can place it.

"Forgive me, but you don't seem terribly happy."

"The Problem's raging worse than ever. Happy things don't come by easy these days."

"...I suppose. It wouldn't -" For the first time, Lockwood thinks she might be feeling nervous. Her humanity, manufactured or otherwise, draws him in despite himself. "It wouldn't have anything to do with me...would it?"

He takes in her carefully manicured appearance, her intentionally pieced together life made up of the dreams she worked towards and achieved. And all he had was a house that was more of a burden than a blessing on some days and this inchoate dread over a Problem whose end was nowhere in sight. But he doesn't know how to express this resentment, this jealousy.

"I'm alright if you're alright."

Sad, dispirited eyes look into each other, searching for the fulfilment they're sure the other has found. She speaks in a tight voice.

"It's okay with the both of us, then."

She suddenly reaches out, and gently holds his finger with the papercut with a firm but comforting pressure. His first instinct is to pull his hand back, but he doesn't, and as the long seconds pass, he feels increasingly vulnerable. The cut was no longer bleeding, and was even well on its way to healing over just fine, but it was irritated from where he had relentlessly picked at it.

"Looks fresh."

She traces the cut with her other hand, violet folded in her palm, with a feather-light touch. The surreality of the moment - of her standing inches from her, her breath tickling his fingertips, her warmth spreading through him - catches up to him and makes his breath hitch. It was unbearably intimate and made him feel like the exposed, raw wound he had been nursing for the eight years she had been gone. And how like her to return with pockets full of unfounded promise to stitch the tears in his skin.

And just as quickly, she lets go of his hand and steps back, and Lockwood feels as though cold air has been forced into his airways. She tucks the violet behind her ear, and drifts back inside. The tilt of her joints is so familiar that it stirs something in him. Something long gone, something he was gripping like a fist.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they return, Lockwood excuses himself to his room for a bit of air, ignoring how closely George is watching him. He sits on his bed and takes a deep breath. His nightstand has a few miniature picture frames on it, and in one of them the picture's been flipped around. It's a picture of him and her, taken a few months before she left. It's how he remembered her before seeing her today. Sometimes, when the urge grew too great, he would tilt the frame under his nightlight, and make out the barest outline of their figures looped together on the other side of photograph.

He didn't know what to make of her departure, all those years ago. One day, they were swinging on tyres in her parents' garden, and the next day, she wasn't at school. But as the years churned on, the string tying his heart to hers stretched and tore a slow and painful death from him, out of the cavity she left, and he never felt quite the same again. And as they continued to age, the wound became old news and scabbed over what was once raw and paralysing, but a part of him always wanted to know why she did it, to be angry with her for being so callous.

And now she was back, pulling him under by the ankles, ripping the gash open viciously.

He didn't know how exactly to deal with it, after years of thinking of her adjacently, daring only to keep her in his peripheral vision, where he was kept safe. Maybe it was all part of a larger problem; the twitch in his hand and his recurring nightmare.

He's ten years old again, at a train station he's never been to, and likely one that doesn't exist. It's hard to see just about any discerning features, except for the massive train peeking through the fog in front of him. He looks to the right, and sees her strong fingers wrapped around a railing, her standing in the door of the train. He can't be sure of much, but he's certain she's looking at him. He stretches the moment as long as it will last, because it's all downhill from there.

There's a terrible groaning sound, and the train reluctantly starts to chug along, steadily gathering speed. He walks alongside it, gradually picking up his own pace, until he's nearly sprinting. All the while, she watches him with amused eyes, secure in her place on the train. He's panting, choking on the fog, eyes streaming. But if he can just reach her scarf whipping in the wind, the train will stop, and she'll step out, cool and gleaming and impervious to the cloud of dust surrounding her and-

He wakes with a start. He knows how it ends.

She slips through his fingers every time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She stays for the rest of the day, and the four of them spend a cosy afternoon decorating their Christmas tree, carefully dodging the random mugs of hot chocolate littered across the room. While they were digging out the ornaments from the attic, she finds a box that he, evidently, had not tucked away deep enough.

"Remember these?" She holds up a flimsy, crumbling Santa Claus ornament made of construction paper. "We had so much fun making them."

He nods stiffly, subtly shifting the box towards a corner in the living room. It smarts his eyes to look at the hideous thing, as if its very sight was corrosive.

"Took me a while to find them, though. It must be a pain to dig them out every year."

He puts down the bauble he's hanging, and sighs. "I haven't...brought these out in a while."

Even her look of perplexity looks artificial. "Why not? Aren't there so many happy memories attached to these?" Her face falls ever so slightly. "Do memories of me not make you happy?"

Luckily, they're interrupted by Lucy placing a handful of miniature marshmallows into their hot chocolate. When she moves over to George, Lockwood wordlessly starts hanging their crafted ornaments, and she doesn't press him for an answer. When they're done, the tree looks a lot more crowded and chaotic than it normally does, similar to how Lockwood was feeling with her around. He looks at her, and isn't sure how he feels about the asymmetry of having her here.

Later, when she's about to leave, it starts snowing heavily, too heavily for her to walk home. So after a phone call with her parents, she decides to spend the night. Lockwood's in his bedroom when he hears a knock on his door. It's her, dressed in a spare set of Lucy's pajamas.

"I thought you'd be awake."

She wanted to know what he was doing, and what he was doing was wrapping some Christmas presents. Immediately, she obligingly offered to help, and she was too eager for him to outright refuse. Of course, he might have thought differently if he had known how abysmally little she knew about wrapping gifts. And so they stay up till the early hours of the morning, both of them trying equally hard to teach her the most basic of gift wrapping skills. As the night wore on, they got increasingly drunk on laughter over her heinously criminal attempts and Lockwood's limbs started to loosen up. At one point, he had given up entirely and placed his hands over hers, puppeteering the night's only decent gift wrapping while she smothered her laughter.

He doesn't remember much after that. When he next regains his consciousness, he's lying curled up next to her, with the late morning sun streaming through his windows. He watches her breathe, slow and steady, with a face so relaxed, amiable and familiar.

As her eyes start to flutter open, he panics and tries to look anywhere else, which isn't easy given how she's only inches away from him. They glance at each other, silently acknowledging their positions, and the silence hangs heavy in the air. He clears his throat awkwardly, trying to put as much space between them as he can with his arm wrapped under her. "When do you leave?"

She scrunches her forehead as she thinks. It's one of the few parts of her he instantly recognises and he gets caught off guard by a rush of affection, and a flash of an impulse to smooth out the wrinkles.

"Monday."

He pulls a face.

"We'd have the weekend together. Isn't that enough?"

They stay quiet, watching specks of dust float through the sunlight filtering through his partially drawn curtains. With how close they are to each other, they're not looking at each other's face, and it's unclear if she's asking him, or herself, or the dust they're watching. Was it enough?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening, Lucy wants to take a walk along some of the emptier roads in the snow. She takes their trip as her cue to leave but Lucy insists she come along, so she does. The four of them had cycled as far as they could, and when they reached the too-slippery parts of the road, they had dismounted and left their bicycles in a corner. Lucy and George were wandering around a bit ahead of them, while they slowly shuffled through the snow. She had picked up some newspapers on their way there, and was looking through them as they walked, taking particular interest in the odd article on Lockwood & Co.

"You've certainly had your fair share of media coverage."

"Along with a decent helping of frenzied media sensationalism, I suppose."

"My apologies. I forgot I was talking to the Anthony J. Lockwood of Lockwood & Co. Now, is the arson bit complimentary, or would I have to pay extra?"

She was teasing him, and it was irritating. There was a reticent air about him and after some politely delicate probing, which he had been too preoccupied to entertain, she had resorted to amusing herself. Toying with him like a figurine, the way she did all those years ago.

"You wear your grief so beautifully, Lockwood. Like...like jewels between your teeth..."

She pauses, flipping through the newspapers interestedly with inky fingertips, which flickered like shadows next to the soft white snow.

"...and you have such a winning smile. Golden boy." She laughs, and the sound feels like icicles pressing into his skull. "Golden boy," she trills, "you were a bit of a child. The world was having its way with you. You tried to...er, something...golden boy!"

She smiles at him lazily, expectantly, as if anticipating some kind of applause. But Lockwood is in no mood for her childish whimsies.

"I'm fine. I don't have any grief."

She frowns exaggeratedly. "'Course you do."

"I don't."

She mumbles, turning back to her newspaper. "Fine, then. Not like I'm the one holding onto...some kind of...ache."

He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. How could anyone be this self-aware and yet completely oblivious? The strain on his self-restraint peaks and he buckles within himself.

"Why are you here, Y/N?"

She looks away from the snow. "Lucy said it'd be nice out here."

"No. I mean why are you here, in London? Here, at Portland Row?"

Her lips are pressed together, and there's something guarded in her eyes.

"I just...wanted to see how you were doing."

"Liar."

The word drops from his tongue in such an aggrieved manner with such vehemence that it makes her choke.

"How could you say something like that?"

He scoffs. "Please, let's not pretend you weren't dying to leave at the first chance. Not that you had the decency to tell me-"

"-I was ten!-"

"- having me go through the humiliating process of finding out on my own-"

"What do you want me to say, Lockwood? I'm sorry I left? I'm sorry you were alone? I'm sorry I was too selfish to give a damn about you?"

"-and you'll come back, choking on your silver spoon only to leave again and again and again until you're all alone-"

"You never wrote!"

"I didn't think you'd want me to!"

"I didn't know what I wanted!"

"Then what do you want?"

"YOU, you idiot!"

He stares at her, speechless.

"I was ten. And I was so foolish. How could I have thought of anything but you?"

With that, the last of her rosy, polished, alluring boarding-school airs fell apart. He looks at her and sees his own anger and yearning reflected back at him; anger and yearning he's hardly ready to face. Despite all their efforts to get away from the other, to move on, something between them held fast. Or perhaps it was that they were hopelessly, irrevocably intertwined.

"Of all the roads I could have travelled, you are at the end of every single one of them. Every single one of them, except the road I did travel. I'm here, Lockwood, because I thought I might have...I might have chosen wrong."

"So you think you can just stroll back now that it's convenient for you? I didn't know if I'd ever see you again, do you realise that?"

"What do you want me to do, Lockwood? You keep pushing me away. I feel like part of a past you're forever trying to run away from. So fine! I'll leave, then. I'll go back to the sorry hole I crawled out of, back to friends I don't care about, back to dreaming of the only person who's ever truly cared about me. Is that what you want?"

She doesn't wait for a response, and turns around and walks away from him.

"Y/N, come back."

She silently picks her bicycle out of the snow, dusting it off.

"You can't cycle in this."

Still ignoring his words ringing through the dead winter silence, she steadies herself and cautiously swings a leg over her bicycle. Lockwood starts to walk towards her.

"You'll fall. You'll hurt yourself. Y/N. Y/N!"

But she's already off, gliding soundlessly like a ghost through frigid air on icy roads.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He's already regretting his words by the time he reaches 35 Portland Row. When he first walks in, the house is so deathly quiet that he's convinced she's left. But her bicycle is thrown down in the garden and he knows she's too averse to the cold to walk home in the snow.

He walks slowly, his measure footsteps echoing on the wooden floors of the house, and he eventually finds her in the living room, sitting with her back to the door, staring at the drawn curtains. The fading evening glow spilling through the edges is streaked across her face and there's a soft crunching sound. As he comes closer, he sees the bowl of ice glinting in her lap, like fractured light, with her face as blank as a canvas.

"Have you gone completely mad? You'll fall sick."

She doesn't even flinch, as if she hadn't heard him. When she speaks, there's a dreamy quality to her typically strong and clear voice.

"I didn't want to come back. This city is nothing I want. I was always going to escape some day. And yet..." she trails off with glazed eyes, as if trying to look through some distant fog. "...and yet."

"You were right." The run back had left him mildly breathless, but was also exactly what he needed to get rid of the buzz in his head, giving way to some much-needed clarity. "About the...heartache. I was just sick of it. You're miles away. I love you in your sleep. I still reach the end of road alone. But I loved you all the while and...somehow that made the pain of leaving you worth it."

"I'm restless. I'm lost. I'm selfish." She swivels her head with an unnerving smoothness, grin wide and grotesque, ice glinting between her perfect teeth. "I'm so alone, Lockwood. Just like you said."

He doesn't know what to say. He walks towards her and picks up her bowl but her fingers close around his wrist like a vice. The gleam in her eye makes him want to pull his hand back. He's too old to play her games and lose.

"That's a bad habit."

"I'm a bad habit. One you can't seem to kick even after all these years: tell me, Anthony, why is that?"

"Y/N, stop. You'll spoil your teeth."

It only makes her grind her teeth even more tauntingly. It's an awful sound. "Good. Let them fall out, one by one. It's what I deserve. Maybe I'll finally learn my lesson."

Her grip on his sleeve lessens, but she doesn't let go. She grips the bowl with her other hand even tighter, as if suddenly terrified.

"Leave me be, Anthony. Leave me...to my vices...and violets and...violence."

He reads her face. He tries to figure her out, to read her like the open book she once was to him. When he doesn't leave, she shovels more ice into her mouth, uncomfortably clacking with her teeth, and continues.

"I was racing ahead...into some glorious sunset, towards some fantastic rainbow, at the end of which was some miraculous snowdrop and a wish to soothe my nomadic soul. I didn't have time for the boy with the sad eyes two streets down from me."

"I convinced myself that you resented my escape from the Problem. I was 15 with the bitter taste of lemongrass in my mouth and a stitch in my chest when I realised I spent all those years missing you. I couldn't run away from it, not truly. So I pretend. I pretend you don't hate me and I pretend I'm not an awful person and I pretend there's a chance you'd want me as much as I want you. I came home to tell you how terribly fond I was of you. It was only at your doorstep that I realised I had run out of places to hide."

"I don't have time for love. Nor the capacity for it. But I am tired of trying to outrun it."

She closed her eyes. Her voice was barely a croak. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving. If I could...I'd wish away the past eight years of misery." She opened her eyes. "Some nights, I can pretend they never existed. But I can't wish your happiness into existence."

Lockwood somehow finds his voice. "I thought this was the life you wanted."

"It is Christmas, once again, and my heart is lonely as an island...once again. What part of this could I possibly want?"

He lets go of the bowl of ice and covers her limp, frozen hand with his own. She speaks in a low voice, barely stirring the dust in the room.

"I'll never forgive myself."

He sits down next to her, his feather-light lips pressed to her temple. She feels drained, and exhausted, as if the spirit that had driven her for so long was finally fatigued. Her breathing was uneven and her lungs felt lopsided. But what a blessing it was to finally fall in the one place she knew her landing would be soft.

"One day. One day, I'll..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He pulls out a fresh violet from his coat, still damp from the morning dew.

"Call it even?"

She accepts the flower and gives him a sweet smile. He revels in this smallest of victories.

Their peaceful moment gets shattered by the deafening train horn, which unpleasantly reminds Lockwood of where they are.

She hesitates for a moment, but then extends her arm and holds his face. There's a troubled look on her face, like there's something indescribable she wished to communicate just at the tip of her tongue. But the compulsion passes, and she settles for a trembling brush of his cheekbone with her thumb.

"You're such a darling, Anthony. I don't care what any newspaper or lawsuit has to say about you. You'll always be a darling to me."

"Good, because soon enough you might just be the only one."

She grins, widely at first, but then it chips, and for once he can admit that the sight breaks his heart. She gives him a hug, and he holds her like she's one of the precious metals that adorn her jewellery.

"You'll come back, won't you?"

"Perhaps. See you another weekend."

When they break apart, she swiftly picks up her suitcase with white knuckles and marches to the carriage without looking back. The train horn blares for a final time. The doors shut, and the wheels groan to life. He searches for her face, and finds it, but the reflection of the train station lights hides her eyes. It's at this moment that a disconnected part of him realises he doesn't want to wait for another weekend. He wants her here, and he wants her now.

The train picks up speed, and Lockwood tries to match it. But he's not trying to run. He knows that won't work, it never does.

"Y/N!"

That gets the attention of most passengers, including her. This train accelerates much faster than in his dream, and he's got an awful stitch running down the side of his torso by now, but he's beyond caring at this point. When she sees that it's him yelling like a maniac, she presses her flushed face to the window, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Would you stay?"

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits @ahead-fullofdreams

#taylor swift #lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood imagine #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #tis the damn season #evermore #12 days of fics '23

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mngo-jii · 9 months

Note

Okay but I really need to fill the gap as to WHY Daniel was casually carrying Amortentia around during that erumpent event. I don't think he'd use it, but maybe it's because his smell just like MC? 👀

Perhaps the reader finally gives into their curiosity and asks over why Daniel had *that* potion, and he gets too flustered to even give an excuse? Btw I really loved your crushing hc, these were adorable! 💖

“ AMORTENTIA. ” d. page

wc: 1k

letter ✉️: i rlly was also wondering how i’d turn the amortentia scene into a fic without having him turn into a maniac and use it on reader 😭 ty for this idea 🙏🏻 idk if i did it justice though because this kinda sucks um *scratches head*

“Right. Let’s see. I’ve got... Amortentia, that’s a love potion, definitely not. Essence of Dittany, hm... Ah, here we go. A calming draught.”

You narrow your eyes at a peculiar potion he just mentioned. Yet the situation at hand is more important than the question as to why he has the most powerful love potion in existence. You digress.

Of course, it’s not hard to catch onto how Daniel is a potions prodigy. It’s particularly impossible to miss it. Given how much time he spends in the Potions Classroom brewing maybe nearly every potion in existence. Sometimes, you tend to question how he doesn’t get exhausted from the hours he spends in front of the cauldron. But you suppose it’s just a passion of his that differs from everyone else’s.

Like how Lottie, herself, can spend hours painting anything that comes to mind. A wave of creativity just happening to hit her at some random time, like how the light shines oh-so perfectly down into the classroom windows, or when she realizes how fascinating the flames look when she casts the confringo spell.

But there are times she exhausts herself too, like times she’s mentally drained from an art block she’s been desperately trying to escape.

You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen Daniel tired of creating potions. It’s quite impressive—no, farther than that, that you sometimes find yourself admiring how well he can work his way around the cauldron with little to no errors.

And because of how well he ferments potions and how much time he spends on doing so, it’s no surprise to find that he has quite the collection of distinctive potions. However, he always either gives them away, displays them on the Potions Classroom shelf, or keeps them somewhere in his dorm.

So why did he so casually carry Amortentia, of all potions, in his pocket?

Of course it isn’t as bad as the Death potion, but your point still stands!

After that day you couldn’t help but let your mind wander on the possibilities on why in the world he would have such a powerful potion easily-accessed. After all, he doesn’t seem like the type to use it on someone. Actually, does he even have a ‘someone’ to use it on, nevertheless?

Maybe it’s not your place to ask. But as time goes by, you can’t look at Daniel without being reminded that he literally has the most formidable love potion known to man in his pocket.

“...W-What are you looking at?” He asks you, aware of your unwavering, however thoughtful gaze.

“Daniel,” you lean towards him, taking note of the crimson hue spreading his cheeks, “Is there any reason for you to be carrying the Amortentia potion right now...?”

Daniel visibly panics. He stammers out an incoherent response that’s cut off by Professor Flitwick.

“Please pay close attention to the instructions. Today we will be learning a disarming charm known as Expelliarmus.”

The two of you gently shuffle back to place, turning your attention to the man standing atop a very thick book. You suppose he can answer you later.

Daniel scampers to collect his belongings the very second Professor Flitwick dismisses class, unbeknownst to you. He scoots towards the very edge of the table and races out the door, stumbling into the hallway for an escape as if he had just seen a dementor.

Very quickly, he scans his surroundings, paying no mind to his classmates who barely glance at him as they walk by. He decides to draw himself a little farther from the doorway and towards the stairways of the Defense Against Dark Arts classroom, where he presses his side against the wall.

Unluckily for him, you just so happened to be reaching to grab his hand right now, making him feverishly twirl around to face you.

“Daniel, I’ll keep it a secret, I promise !” you whisper-shout, bouncing a little in place.

“It’s nothing—” He backs away from you in an attempt to escape your clutches, but you only step forward.

“Then why run? Why are you sweating so much?” You furrow your eyebrows, clearly concerned for your friend who is, yes, sweating bullets now.

“It’s just—”

“Pleeease tell me, Daniel.”

“I—”

“Pleeease.” Now both of your hands are grabbing his. You muster up the best pair of puppy eyes you can do at the moment, and lean yourself towards him trying to get him to just tell you.

Daniel’s face, which is inches away from yours at this point, is basically red.

“It’s— I— For—..” Why is your face still leaning in?! Why are you so close?! Haven’t you heard of personal space? (He kind of doesn’t want you to back away.) He shuts his eyes.

Before he could process it, his mouth moves on his own, blurting out the reason of which was not on your list of possibilities at all.

It was like a survival instinct.

“It smells nice...! It smells like you—your-robe-that-you-lent-to-me-last-week.”

Daniel wishes the floor would swallow him up.

He barely opens his eyes when you slowly let go of his hands and back away, and he only snaps them open when he hears a familiar hysteric laughter from above and behind him.

He slowly turns around, as if he hadn't already known who it is.

“You cannot be serious!” Robyn wipes a comical tear from her eye as she dramatically leans over a stone wall, “Ahhh, you’re daft, Page!”

Daniel doesn’t bother to say anything as he somberly stares at her above the staircase. His arms falling limp and his entire body stiff.

“I can’t believe I witnessed this at such a perfect timing...!” She drunkenly makes her way down, clapping her hands slowly in such passionate amusement despite the silence between you and him. “I can’t—” She pitilessly snickers at Daniel.

She gracefully turns to the opposite side of where you two came from and slowly disappears into the halls, her voice fading out in the distance—“I can’t wait to tell everyone else about this!”

Daniel stares as her figure slowly shrinks in his vision, as if he were trying to make her explode with his mind despite the distracting and repetitive sounds of her claps and cackling.

However, he’s taken aback when he feels a familiar piece of clothing gently wrap around his shoulder. He looks over, noticing that you’re no longer wearing your robe.

“I’ll gladly keep lending you my robe if you want me to...”

a/n: this is short ohmyy im sorry 😞

#(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ— written by lnr #hpma x reader #hogwarts magic awakened x reader #daniel page x reader

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mxssingmemories · 9 months

Note

hi hi hiiii juleeees can i pleaseee get a tony stark x daughter!reader where they're sick or smtj idk i have mild conjunctivitis rn amd it sucks ☹️ so maybe just smth wherr tony takes care of reader and gets cheeseburgers for them ot smth (im sorry if this is too big i love uu)

Burgers

Pairing: Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary: you're sick, and you scare the shit out of your dad. Fluff and burgers ensue.

Warnings: mention of not eating due to sickness, passing out, sickness in general

Word Count: 480, just a short lil blurb I'M SO SORRY

A/N: ASH!! HI!! this was so sweet to write, tysm for the request lovie

The sound of loud coughing startled Tony into consciousness, his heart immediately speeding up. He jumped out of bed, running to your room-prepared to find anything and everything. His panic subsided almost instantly, though. He ran in to find you bent over on your bed, in the middle of an awful-sounding coughing fit. He stepped next to your bed, sending a reassuring smile as he sat down next to you.

“You alright, sweetie?” he asked, softly rubbing your back.

“Yeah, dad,” was what you tried to say, but you ended up coming into another coughing fit before you could say a single word.

“Easy, okay, breathe through it,” he coached, worried lines showing through on his face. Luckily, you were too busy hacking up a horse to notice. He hated you seeing it when he was worried. Even in times like these, he wanted his entire focus to be on you.

The fit steadily got worse, and Tony did his best to get you through it.

“Fri, can you tell Bruce what’s going on? I’m gonna bring her down to the medbay,” was the last thing you heard before everything went black; the stress on your body too much for you to keep up with.

“Oh god,” Tony exclaimed, immediately picking you up in his arms and rushing to the elevator. The ride down to the bay felt like an hour, even though it was only two minutes. When the doors finally opened, Bruce rushed to his side, eyes widening when he realized you weren't conscious.

“What happened?” Bruce asked as you were rushed into a room, him already hooking up your vitals in less than two seconds.

“I-I don’t know. One minute she was coughing a lot and then she just,” he paused to wipe his nose on his sleeve,”passed out.”

"Okay, so I'm not seeing anything serious. It looks like pink eye? She doesn't need to be in the hospital right now, Tones," he assured, smiling when all the tension drained out of his best friend's body.

As soon as Bruce finished talking, your eyes fluttered open, confusion masking your face. Tony reassured you as quickly as he could, and a few minutes later, you were riding down to the garage. He decided he wanted to take you to get some fast food-it was his cure-all for stressful days with you.

As you pulled up to the McDonald's line-"Why are we even here," being said about fifteen times from your dad- you laidd your head on his shoulder, letting your eyes close. Your breathing evened out, but Tony woke you up when you got your food.

"Thanks, dad," you smiled, digging into your food. You still felt like absolute shit, but you hadn't eaten in almost a day thanks to your illness. You could have sworn that was the best burger you'd had in your whole life.

#tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark fluff #my writing #tony stank #mcu fanfiction #sick fic #for ash

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jazziwritesthings · 5 months

Text

Disaster - Lee Know

Purely a work of Fiction.

Word Count: 2,765

Pairings: Lee Know x Reader, Jisung x Best Friend Reader

Warnings: Idk that there is any?

*******

To say that you and Minho were friends would be a gross overstatement. Sure you were in the same social circles and had a lot of mutual friends but you had a deep disdain for the man. You couldn’t remember why anymore but you were always one to carry a grudge, even if you couldn’t remember the cause. You used to be a trainee but decided to leave and pursue dancing. You kept a lot of friends in the company though. Which would be how you ended up here. A party in the 3RACHA dorm. Jisung had invited you since you two have become close over the last few years. The only downside to this friendship would be the proximity to Minho. He was not only one of Jisung’s members, he was his best friend. Almost his other half. This caused you to be around Minho more than you would have liked.

Now you stand in the kitchen of the dorm to try and get away from all the people. You had lost Jisung over an hour ago and you didn’t know a lot of other people here. Sure every time a person came into the kitchen you exchanged pleasantries but that was it. The party was starting to feel suffocating. You knew the beginning signs of a panic attack and set off to find Jisung so he could help. However before you could make it farther than the couch your hand was grabbed by none other than Minho himself. You didn’t even have the strength to try and shake him off. “Y/n?” Your name left his lips grabbing your attention, “ Jisung?” He shook his head before standing and dragging you along to wherever he was going. Blindly following the man you hated was not on your radar tonight.

When you look up again you see that you're now in the hall and are entering the other dorm. He gently leads you to the couch and helps you sit before disappearing. He appeared seconds later handing you a water bottle that you gladly took. He placed himself on the floor in front of you. “I need you to breathe with me.” You nodded and were trying but couldn’t get a good rhythm and just ended up more scared because you felt like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs. “Okay okay.” He got up from the floor and was now glued to your side. He gently placed a hand on your chest and one on your back. He pushed gently making your chest mimic deep breaths. You both stayed like that for a while before he removed himself from your side. Before you could even thank him, he was up and out of the apartment. Leaving you sitting on his couch questioning everything.

Once you felt stronger you made your way back to the party to see everyone was significantly drunker than when you had left. You needed to find Jisung to tell him you were leaving, otherwise he would have your head in the morning. You found him in his room, shoved up against the door to prevent any visitors. You shoved your shoulder into the door and it must’ve surprised him because he moved allowing you to enter. He visibly relaxed once he realized it was you. He pulled his headphones down to rest around his neck, “ Everything okay Y/n?” You nodded, “ Yeah, I’m just gonna head out.” He pulled you into a hug and smiled once he let go, “ Text me when you get home, Yeah?” Nodding you left his room and made your way to the door. Only someone decided to block your path. Looking up at the person in front of you, you were once again met with Minho. “Can I help you?” You asked him while looking up at his face. Before you understood what was happening you were in Minho’s arms receiving a hug, “ You can’t leave without letting me hug you first.” You were at a loss for words. You were frozen in his arms never expecting this. You felt him rest his chin on your head and he spoke again, “ You’re the perfect height for me to rest my chin on your head.” That sentence was whispered so you thought that was more a thought he wanted to keep to himself and let out accidentally. You gently put your hands on his chest and gave him a gentle shove and he let you go. He looked down at you with such a soft expression you were surprised he was even capable of such a thing. “ Well you are cute, ah! I mean- you're not cute, but you are? I'm just going to shut up now." And before you could even utter a word he was gone, disappearing into the crowd.

Finally getting home you immediately got into the shower. Trying to scrub the day away but one thing kept coming up, What the hell did Minho think he was doing? Hugging you? Calling you cute? You were pretty sure the whole hating each other thing was mutual but now you’re not so sure. His actions tonight make you rethink your entire relationship. What little of one you’ve had since you met him. Was it all one sided this entire time? You thought about it all night, resulting in not sleeping much. Your alarm startles you from a light sleep. You open your eyes and have just one thought, Did Minho like you?

You tried to distance yourself from everyone while you grappled with all this new found information. It had been nearly two weeks since that party and Jisung texted that he was having another one tonight. You had practice late but would try to show up afterwards.

Of course, late practice then ran late and you got to the party nearly 4 hours after it had started. You were seriously behind in terms of alcohol consumption but you weren’t worried, drinking wasn’t really your thing. You found a chair in the corner of the living and just relaxed into it slowly drinking the beer you grabbed. You liked people watching, one of your favorite things. Your activity was interrupted however when a body sat in front of your chair. You knew it was Minho right away. You weren’t sure how you knew but you did. Moving your legs to give him more space he gently grabbed your calves before you could move too far. He placed your legs against his chest while you sat there frozen. “ You had practice?” You could form a coherent thought with his hands still on your legs but the noise you made was enough confirmation for him. He took his hand and began to slightly massage your right calf muscle. You couldn’t help but melt into the chair at his touch. It was so gentle and your legs were so sore. He spent a while on your right leg before moving to the left. Your eyes were getting heavy and already knowing you were in the presence of someone safe you let yourself be consumed by sleep.

Waking up was normal. Until you opened your eyes. You recognized the sheets the moment you saw them. Your entire body relaxed as you realized you were in Jisungs bed. Slowly throwing the covers off you saw you were now in a shirt and a pair of boxers. Your normal borrowed sleep attire. Walking out of the room and into the kitchen you saw Jisung asleep on the couch. You then heard sounds coming from the kitchen and turned the corner to enter. Only to see Minho standing there shirtless and cooking. You rubbed your eyes and groaned. “ Morning Gorgeous.” You groaned even louder, “ Shut up.” You shuffled your way to the couch and decided the best way to wake up your best friend would be with your body weight. He was laying on his stomach on the couch and you laid across his back on your stomach. He groaned and moved a bit and made it so you could wrap your arms around his abdomen, “ Morning Sungie.” His answer to you was another groan as he started to roll over. You maneuvered yourself to where you were now laying with your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you before speaking, “ Get up. I gotta pee.” It caused you to break into loud laughter as you got up so he could move. If he hadn’t asked you to move you never would've looked up and seen the clear look of jealousy written across Minho's face.

Minho’s POV

Minho heard footsteps coming down the hall before he spotted you. Wearing some of Jisung’s clothes. He never liked when you wore Jisung’s clothes. Or any of the members' clothes. Yet you never asked him. You were always distant with him and he never knew why. He smiled at you as you rubbed your face, “ Morning Gorgeous.” He couldn’t help the tone that it came out with. He hated that. Whenever you were around he was completely at your mercy and you had no idea. The only time he could be okay around you was when he was drinking because then he had an excuse if you didn’t want him around. He watched as you made your way over to Jisung and climbed on top of him. He could feel the jealousy already coursing through his veins and he knew to bite his tongue. If he told you everything would change and he wasn’t sure it would be good. He continued to watch as Jisung rolled over and brought you to rest on his chest. Minho felt his chest tightening with the thought that he wished it was himself instead of Jisung. Now Minho knew there was nothing between you and Jisung. The two of you were practically the same person. Minho turned on his heel as Jisung passed him on the way to the bathroom. Moving back to the stove to continue cooking he felt a presence behind him a few moments later. He looked over his shoulder and saw Jisung leaned against the counter staring at Minho, “ What?” It came out a bit snappier than Minho had anticipated. “Hyung, Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?” Minho hung his head. They had had this conversation so many times. He gave Jisung a look. A look Jisung knew ment, he couldn’t. He was so afraid of change he was willing to suffer because he couldn’t even bear the thought of you leaving the group entirely if you rejected him. He couldn’t let that happen. So he was going to keep his feelings to himself. Although lately it has been really hard. Instead of helping him avoid you, the alcohol was driving him towards you, he was gonna slip up. He just knew.

Y/n POV

Ever since you saw that one look of jealousy on his face you had been more attuned to Minho then you had ever been before. Honestly it was freaking you out. It was like you could feel him from across the room. The most recent was just a day or so ago when you were all hanging out in the living room of Minho’s dorm. You sat next to Chris on the couch and you liked to play with people's hands when they were talking to you. So in the midst of your conversation with Chris you were playing with his hands in yours. Now, all the boys know you do this and don’t take any issue with it. Except for this time Chris pulled his hands away and put them in his pocket while looking somewhere behind you. It was then that you felt it. It was like someone was burning holes into your back. You whipped around only to catch Minho giving Chris what could only be described as a death glare.

“Jisung!” You called as you walked into the 3RACHA dorm. Bin looked up from his phone and smiled at you from the couch, “In his room.” You smiled and made your way to his room. Knocking ,” Are you decent?” The door swung open and he gestured for you to come in. You sat on his bed, “ I need help.” He was confused as he sat down next to you, “What do you mean?”

“I think Minho likes me.”

“Okay?”

“And I don’t know what to do about it or how to feel.”

“And you need my help, with what exactly?”

“I don’t know.”

“Y/n. That's not helpful.”

You just let out a groan as you threw yourself backwards to lay on his bed.

“Why can’t he just make a move already?”

“Do you want him to?”

“Oh shit. I- I guess I do.”

“Holy shit.”

“Holy shit. I like Minho.”

Jisung started laughing, “ I’m glad you finally figured that out. But how are you gonna tell him?”

“I’m not.”

“Y/n.”

“Jisung.”

“ You’ve had the revelation, now what do you want to do with this new found information?”

“I really don’t know. Would he even give me a chance with how much of an ass I've been the entire time I’ve known him?”

“Trust me. I know him pretty well. He will.”

“How do I do this?”

“Just tell him?”

“Gosh Jisung. I hadn’t thought of that.” As you playfully smack his arm.

“Wanna make him have no choice but to make a move?” You turn to face him with eyebrows raised.

“I’ll take care of everything. Just be here tomorrow night at like 9.” You nodded, not making a move to get up.

It was slightly past 9 when you showed up, letting yourself into the dorm to see the guys and some of their girlfriends. Everyone was in matching pajamas with their partners. “Y/n! Your pjs are in Jisung’s room.” You went to his room and changed, coming out to see that you didn’t match Jisung like you thought you would no, you matched Minho. You saw him look from you to Jisung then to himself, taking notice that your pjs matched his. His ears turned bright red. The night started out with movies and games. Now it was nearing 1am and everyone was slightly wine drunk, “ I have an idea!” Jisung pipes up. Everyone turned their attention to the man who now seemed giddy, awaiting an explanation.

“PEPERO!” He yelled out before running off into his room, returning with a box. You could feel your face heating up. If this was his idea of how to tell Minho, you weren’t sure you liked it. It started off easy with the couples of course going first. Then went to some of the members and lots of hooting and hollering before it was your turn to be matched with someone. “Wait! Let's do it blind folded.” Before you could object there was a piece of cloth covering your eyes, “Open.” Opening your mouth, you feel the pepero placed in your teeth. Sitting on your knees completely blind you waited. It took a while and a lot of coaxing from the others, then there were two hands placed on your cheeks, tilting your head ever so slightly. You could feel the person get quite close but bite before your noses even touched. “Awe c’mon!” You took the blindfold off just in time to see Minho turn towards Jisung, “I’m not gonna just kiss her without consent!” He looked back at you, not expecting you to have taken off the blindfold. “You have consent.” His ears and neck turned red immediately as he shook his head, “What?” You moved your body so you were closer to him, “I said, you have my consent.” He didn’t want his brain to stop him again. It was sudden, his hands rested gently on your cheeks and brought your face to his. Lips meeting gently. The kiss was slow. Nothing more than two peoples' lips meeting but you could feel like fireworks going off in your heart and the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He pulled away; eyes still closed. The boys were once again yelling. He dropped his hand from your face. He slowly met your gaze to see you smiling. You brought your hand to his face and moved impossibly close to him. Nudging your nose against his you quickly place another short kiss to his lips. Barley above a whisper, “I think I love you” A smile graced his gorgeous features before he replied, "I've been in love with you for 5 years, thanks for finally catching up."

**********

A/n: I could try a part 2 but idk, probably be just fluff, or i could make it angsty.

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