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#anyway. i should sleep. i'm tired and need to get up early
itslookingback · 6 months
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:/
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runningfrom2am · 5 months
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leveling the playing field V
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summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.6k (she's long today DAMN)
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and discussion of abuse, so read with caution!!
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a/n: head empty, no thoughts. only this fic. but i should say if you enjoy it please reblog!! it means so much to us as writers, and who knows! maybe one of your mutuals is missing out on their future favourite fic ;)
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You're about to walk out the door, heading to the academy to meet Coryo before the games start. To try and prepare as best you can.
"Y/N, wait." Your dad stops you as you reach for the handle, and you quickly turn to him. 
"Yes?" You know better than to rush him, but you already were running slightly behind schedule.
"Good luck today." He says and you nod at him.
"Thank you."
"And don't let Coriolanus down." There it is. "He is helping you, he didn't have to do that. Don't ruin this for him. If he needs anything, get it for him. If he tells you to jump, ask how high. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." You nod, a pit forming in your stomach. The pressure was on, not that it wasn't already, but now it was so much more real.
"Now, hurry up. Don't keep him waiting." He dismisses you, and you don't have to be told twice.
When you reach the academy, you rush inside. You were always rushing places, these days. The building was almost deserted, it was still quite early, but only two minutes until the time you agreed to meet Coryo in the courtyard. The Games were set to start in just under three hours, and you weren't sure what you would fill that time with, but that is what he asked of you so that is what you will do.
The last you had seen him was only about four or so hours ago, when he walked you home after stopping at the zoo to bring Lucy Gray the arena layout and he gave her a compact. One she promised to give back after the games, after crying over what today would bring. You felt bad, but mostly because you felt it was somewhat inconvenient that she would waste time over tears when you had important information for her on where to go and how to hide. This was valuable to her. Every moment counted if she wanted to walk out of the arena alive.
You spot Coryo pacing the courtyard through the window before you push it open, stepping out onto the path as the cool air brushes over your skin. It was July, but the mornings were still crisp.
"Sorry I'm almost late, I-"
"It's okay." He interrupts you as you get closer. He really only wanted you there for company, and he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep in this time anyway. "How are you feeling?" 
"Fine, if a little tired." You shrug. "You?"
"Fine." He echoes your answer, just standing there staring at you in the silence. He really wasn't afraid of silence- but you were.
"What about your back? Recovering okay? I have some extra morphing if you're in pain." You offer, already reaching for your bag just for the sake of giving yourself something to do with your hands.
Confusion takes over his features. "Morphling?" He asks, brow furrowed. "Why do you have that on you?"
"Migraines, twisted ankles, cramps..." You answer. "You never know when you'll need some." You hold the small tube out to him, but he shakes his head, pushing your hand down. 
He was sore, it wouldn't hurt, but something about taking it from you felt wrong. "No thank you, I'm fine." It would make sense that you would have it, though it was only accessible by prescription. It was likely your dad who prescribed it to you, if only so you could have it on hand. Or because he knows how often you're hurting, or he doesn't want you acting hurt- exposing the irony of having an abusive father who's also the most sought-after doctor in all of the Capitol. Morphling numbs the body, but also the mind. It's highly addictive, expensive to those who could access it, and not for the faint of heart- but you showed no signs of addiction. You must not take it often, therefore there's no real reason for him to be worried.
"Suit yourself." You shrug, tucking the vial away again. "Let me know if you change your mind. We have a long day ahead." 
He nods in confirmation, joining you as you sit down on a bench nearby. "What did you give Lucy Gray last night, anyway?"
"A compact?" He feigns confusion, knowing the true implications of your question.
"Duh, Mister President." You tease. "I meant what was in it?"
Coryo chews on the inside of his cheek, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He has to answer casually, lest face your anger issues when he shows any guilt about cheating. "Uh, nothing." That wasn't a total lie, he just left out the part where he implied that Lucy Gray could find something within the cage at the zoo that would fit nicely in it, something like rat poison.
"Nothing?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. "You just gave her that as a gift?"
"Something like that." He shrugs, and your expression reads as though you're not buying it. "If she happened to find something to put in it, something that could help her, that would be just an unrelated convenience."
You freeze, staring at him in disbelief. "Coryo." You whisper, slapping his shoulder to get him to look at you as you read between the lines. "Something like rat poison? That's cheating! Are you kidding me right now?"
"What?" He defends, sitting up straighter as he looks over at you again. "It's my only shot! If she doesn't win, I can kiss the prize goodbye."
"It's not about her winning, Coriolanus. It's about the efficacy of the mentorship! Dean Highbottom said-"
"Dean Highbottom despises me, winning is the only thing I can do to get him to even glance at my mentorship as an option." He argues and you groan, burying your face in your hands.
He watches you, and suddenly feels regret for his decision. If only because you didn't approve of his actions. "Okay." You sigh, dropping your hands into your lap again and sitting up straighter. "Okay. We can work with it. As long as she is smart about it, we won't get caught. And like you said, we didn't do anything. It was just a gift."
"I warned her. She knows." He assures you. Really, there's no harm done unless you get caught. And should Lucy Gray become the victor, your life plan will fall beautifully into place. It will be worth it, you're ashamed you didn't think of such a thing first.
After everyone else arrived, the two of you decided to make a fashionably late entrance, walking into the newly decorated hall, containing many students and professors alike, the large screens against the back wall displaying all of the remaining tributes and the Hunger Games logo, where the games themselves will be aired. You were excited and scared all at once. 
"Y/N, Coriolanus." Dean Highbottom greets you as you enter, taking in the atmosphere. Both of you grace him with just a nod. "I'd advise you to tell your friend Sejanus to find a seat near the door..." He adds quietly before walking off, leaving the two of you confused.
Coryo doesn't seem to think too much about it, just heading down the stairs. You follow behind him, head held high to counteract any of your peer's bitter staring or laughs. Everyone knew you didn't qualify for a mentorship, and to most, you just appeared to be following Coriolanus Snow around like a lost puppy, hoping to get the scraps of his success. 
They won't be laughing when you are Head Gamemaker, that's for sure. But even then, will that not also be the scraps of his success? Him appointing you to the job of your dreams after his inauguration, will that not appear to be out of bias or pity? This isn't a question you have time to let bother you. Your future starts today.
When the games are about to start, you follow Coryo over while he decides which desk to take, deciding on one in the back row close to where you will be sitting. "Good luck." You grin, placing a hand on his forearm. 
He looks down at where your hand is brushing over his coat sleeve and he nods.
You get closer, standing on your tip-toes to whisper to him. "Snow lands on top."
A small smile forms on his face. "Snow lands on top." He whispers back, grabbing your hand for only a moment, afraid of the Dean or Dr. Gaul taking notice. That would only serve to get you both in trouble.
You sit in the first row of benches where Coryo can see you, can easily look to you for help. He's grateful to have you in his peripheral, knowing that you're there, and you're not leaving, is what he didn't realize he really needed.
You both watch silently as the tributes walk out to their designated spots surrounding the pile of rubble in the center of the arena. You were there just last night, but now it looks scarier- even in the light of day. Maybe it's because you know what you are about to witness. All you can do is hope Lucy Gray won't be the first down.
Your heart drops into your stomach when the camera pans to show Sejanus's tribute- the one who escaped, hung from a beam by both his wrists. It's hard to look at, and along with the gasps that echo through the hall and Lucky's commentary, you hear a chair scraping and your eyes land on Sejanus, who's now standing in the middle of the room. He's seething, you can see it in the exaggerated rise and fall of his chest and in the contraction of seemingly every muscle in his body. That's what Dean Highbottom meant- he knew Sejanus would be leaving quickly. You stand as well, your intuition telling you he won't be leaving quietly. Neither would you, if you were in his place.
In a second, Sejanus is throwing his desk and everything on it at the large screen in front of him, screaming in anger. "You're all monsters!" 
You find your feet carrying you toward the screaming boy, but he's shoving past you to leave before you get the chance to talk to him. Hug him, something. You stumble back at the contact, able to save yourself from falling as your eyes follow Sejanus out the door. 
Coryo saw you get knocked back by the force of Sejanus's misplaced rage, and he wanted to check on you. Make sure you are okay, but the games are about to start. He promised Dr. Gaul that you would receive no sympathies from him, and her eyes are burning into both of your backs so he settles for shaking his head at you when you look like you want to follow Sejanus. Doing so would not only leave him alone, but sympathizing with him would align you with his attitudes, however irrelevant to your own opinions.
"Y/N." Coryo says to you, and when you look at him he shakes his head. Stay, he's saying. It's like he can read your mind. But he needs you to stay. 
Surely, Sejanus needs you more. Surely, it would just be a few minutes. Then you remember what your father told you this morning and you smooth your shirt back down, returning to your seat. The games hadn't even started yet, and you're already facing hard decisions.
"You should go home." Coriolanus mutters to you, readjusting his posture in the uncomfortable chair.
"Huh?" You ask, looking up at him from where you're sitting on the floor next to his desk. After everyone else left, there was no use in sitting so far away when you could finally talk candidly about the events of the day.
"Go home." He repeats and you shake your head, attempting to salvage what was left of your hairstyle, which was carefully pinned back this morning.
"I can't, I'll stay. You can go home." You reply, looking up at the screen again. Nothing new had happened in a long time- but you didn't want to miss it if it did.
"Why not?" He yawns.
"My parents are expecting me to stay with you until it's over." You explain. 
Coryo sighs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "I'd invite you to stay with me, but we aren't prepared for guests." Neglecting to mention, of course, the unmaintained mess the Snow apartment had turned into over the last twelve or so years.
"Of course, I wouldn't expect that of you. One of us should be here anyway." You wave it off. "Go home, get some rest."
As soon as he's packed up and left, insisting he won't be gone for long, you make yourself comfortable in his chair with your eyes trained on the screen. You have to stay awake. Lucy Gray could make an appearance any second in search of water, food, anything. You have to stay alert. You can't let Coryo down.
You're jolted awake by the sound of gravel crunching under footsteps, echoing over the speakers from microphones inside the arena. Shit. You fell asleep, you weren't supposed to fall asleep. Immediately you're looking for Lucy Gray onscreen, looking for her body, looking for any sign of her but you see none. If there had been a fight, if she had been screaming, that would have woken you up before footsteps did.
You squint to see what's going on, eyes landing on two figures in the middle of the arena, under the beam that Lamina is lying on, still seemingly asleep. The hair on the back of your neck stands up when you realize who the two people are. Sejanus and Coryo. Your friends. Inside the arena, standing over the body of Sejanus's tribute. You recall that one of the female tributes, Lamina, had killed him and cut him down. You suspected that he asked her to- so what were the boys doing in there?
You can't tear your eyes away- what can you even do? They're talking too quietly for the microphones to pick up. Why are they even there? If Coriolanus had planned this he would have told you. This is too reckless, even for him.
You're not helping by sitting and watching. You have to get there.
Abandoning your bag, you walk as fast as you can manage out of the Academy building before making a run for it, heading in the direction of the arena. You don't even have a plan as to what you'll do when you get there. Do you go in? You'll be risking your life without a doubt. You can't risk calling them, you'll practically be summoning the most violent and angry of the tributes right to them, and to you. 
When you see the arena, there are people standing outside and several peacekeeper trucks. At least people know.
"What the hell is happening?" You ask, walking up to the first person you see. A peacekeeper.
"You can't be here, Miss. You have to go." They start to push you back and you shove them away by the front of their helmet.
"Don't touch me! My friends are in there and I need to know what's happening right now!" You're trying to keep your voice down, but you need answers- urgently. 
"Miss Y/L/N," You hear Dr. Gaul's voice and the peacekeeper lets you go, motioning for you to go over and join her where she is standing with the Dean, and people you recognize as Sejanus's parents are standing by a black vehicle nearby.
"What's going on?" You ask again, firmly as you walk up to the group.
"Sejanus got inside, we don't know who let him in. Coriolanus went in to coax him out."
"What? Why not send peacekeepers? Coriolanus could die in there and you let him go anyway?" It's hard to even believe they would allow a student to walk into harm's way like that. And not just any student, either. Coriolanus Snow.
"If we sent in peacekeepers Sejanus would run. Coriolanus is the only one he would trust so they could leave unnoticed." Dean Highbottom explains.
You scoff, pointing into the gates. "Then why are they still in there?"
"Sejanus is in a difficult place right now, Miss Y/L/N-"
"Yeah. Fuck this." You roll your eyes, taking off your blazer and dropping it on the ground before rolling up your sleeves, and making your way over to the gate.
"Miss Y/L/N, you can't go in there." Dr. Gaul half-heartedly tries to stop you.
"Watch me." You state and the peacekeepers open the gate, letting you in. She must have allowed them to, otherwise they wouldn't.
You're mindful of your steps, trying to be as quiet as possible. You hop over the turnstiles, your landing making the two boys' heads snap toward you.
"It's just me." You whisper, knowing they can't see you in the dark but the large open space will still carry your voice.
"Y/N?" You hear Coryo reply, clearly confused.
"Yeah. We have to go, come on. Come with me."
"Go back!" He hisses. "You can't be here!"
"Neither can you!" Now is not the time for fighting. For once, he needs to listen to you.
He just huffs, turning back to Sejanus, you're assuming to try and talk him down. 
"Okay, I've got a plan." You say this time walking back through the bars, triggering the mechanism. 
Enjoy the show!
You try not to wince at the loudness of the voice, knowing by now that any nearby tributes must have heard that. If the Coral's pack had heard, clearly being the biggest threat, they'd be here soon so you pick up your pace, running back to the bars that surround the arena in one large circle. 
Coryo is calling you to try and get you to stop, to leave, but his whispers don't make it to you anymore.
"Give up?" Dean Highbottom asks you from the other side, and you pick up a large rock from the ground.
"Nope." You shake your head, beginning to walk around the outside, far from the entrance before you start banging it against every bar you walk past. Just for fun, you begin to sing one of Lucy Gray's songs. Maybe, that will be less obvious of a diversion. 
When Coriolanus and Sejanus hear the ruckus you're making outside, the banging accompanied by the sound of your voice moving slowly around the outside of the large arena, they look at each other in a mutual panic. 
"Sejanus, please. We have to go now." Coriolanus pleads with him, and he looks back down at Marcus for a moment before nodding.
"But we're taking Marcus with us." 
"Okay, whatever. Yes." Coriolanus agrees desperately, already grabbing the boy's legs.
They start to carry him toward the exit, picking up pace as they hear that your diversion has worked, echoing voices working their way around the outside of the arena. That's Coryo's primary concern- until they hear what can only be attributed to a war cry from behind them, another tribute with a large knife sprinting after them. 
Wordlessly, they both drop Marcus and start to run.
Once you heard what you were sure was Coral's group running up behind you, still out of view, you changed your tune.
"Gem of Panem, mighty city, through the ages you shine anew!"
With this, you hear their confusion and anger increase tenfold, along with their speed.
You start running, dragging the rock along every bar.
"Come back, Capitol Princess! What are you so afraid of?" You hear Coral's familiar voice shout at you, getting closer. 
They're laughing now, following you around the outside of the arena. Hopefully, Coryo is out because now it's a race. You're on the opposite side now, and have a long way to go to get back around. You ditch the rock, picking up a full sprint.
You can hear them gaining on you with every step, and you ditch your pride and start to yell about halfway back. "Open the gate!" You scream, hoping someone can hear you, and open it for you to make a quick escape. Every inch you have on the three tributes following you counts, and you're losing that valuable space very quickly. You've never been much of an athlete.
You round the side of the building, seeing the gate partially open, and Coryo is standing there holding a hand out to you. "Y/N/N! Come on!"
As soon as you get close enough he grabs your arm and pulls you through, yanking you back as the peacekeepers slam the gate again in the faces of the tributes. Barbarically they slam their weapons against the bars, making you jump as you crash into Coryo's chest. He's got his arms around you now, holding the back of your head protectively as they eventually give up and walk away, stalking off like a pack of wild animals who had lost their prey; except you don't think they planned on eating you. Just killing you for the fun of it, to leave your family and the city tortured the same way it was over the murder of Arachne Crane.
You're breathing heavily and you can hear your heartbeat pounding in your head, maybe it's his. You can't even really tell. 
"You shouldn't have done that." He mumbles to you, gripping onto you as tight as ever.  He wants to scold you, tell you that you were too reckless for your own good. That you could have been killed; but he can't. He doesn't care. In this moment, he is only concerned with one thing. "Are you alright?"
You inhale, trying to focus on slowing your laboured breaths as you nod against his shoulder. You couldn't speak, even if you wanted to. You couldn't argue with him and tell him you were only trying to help, and you would argue that you did.
"Coriolanus." Dr. Gaul says, walking up and looking him over. "You'll need stitches, come back with me to my lab." She instructs and he lets you go.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, pushing your hair back out of your eyes to look at you more clearly. You just nod, biting on the inside of your cheek.
"Fine." You assure him quietly, heart still racing behind your ribs. "Go get stitched up."
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octoberclidan · 7 months
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It's Just Sam
Request: ok im not used to requesting yet so sorry if im doing this wrong but im sad so i need me some early seasons sam fluff (MAYBBBE EVEN SMUT🫢)like reader jokingly calling him sammy and he starts acting all weird or something (andd somehow leads to smut?)
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader
Note: This is 18+, do not read if you're under 18.
Masterlist
Story:
"So, it's all over now?" [Y/N] asked, wrapping her cardigan tight around her, the cold night air forming goosebumps on her arms.
"Should be, you saw him burn up, right?" Sam asked, looking up to the room of the hotel where they'd all just spent an hour being thrown around by a vengeful spirit.
"Yeah... yeah I did". She chuckled, not quite believing the night she'd just had.
"You were awesome, the way you dodged him and figured out it was the painting, you handled that like a pro". Dean smiled at her and clapped her back, causing her to stumbled forwards a little. "Sorry". He grimaced but she laughed it off.
"It's okay, nothing compared to being thrown around by a ghost for an hour in a little hotel room".
"How's your arm?" Sam asked, looking at how she was holding it with her other hand.
"It's fine, I think it'll just bruise. Nothing broken anyway. How's your back? You got thrown against that wall pretty hard".
"Oh he's used to it, right Sammy?" Dean smirked at him.
"Sammy?" She asked, looking up at the man who had just saved her life. They had burst into her room just as the ghost had appeared, time to exchange names hadn't really come up yet. Now that she was looking at him properly, she could see genuine concern in his face. He was extremely handsome, very tall, very broad, but was crossing his arms as if he was trying to make himself seem smaller, maybe less intimidating than he naturally came across as.
He cleared his throat, glaring at Dean. "It's uh, Sam. It's just Sam. Dean's my brother, it's just him who calls me that".
"Oh.. I'm sorry". She blushed and looked away from him.
"No don't be, it's fine". His cheeks now blushing too. "You should get some rest, I bet you're tired".
She shivered from the cold and looked up to her hotel room, the light still on. "Yeah... not sure how much sleep I'm gonna get after all that, plus the smell of burnt paint". She laughed, the heat from her breath fogging the air.
"Maybe they have another room you could switch to?" Sam suggested but Dean hit him on the back of his head, [Y/N] missing the interaction as she continued to stare up at the room, visions of the ghost still at the front of her mind.
"Or Sammy could stay with you, protect you, he's good at that". If she'd been more familiar with Dean's voice she would've heard the smirk through it. "I'm gonna head out to the bar and I don't intend on being back until morning, so there's a spare bed in our motel room just down the road. Not as fancy as this hotel but as motels go, it's not bad". She turned around to see him wink at her.
"I wouldn't want to intrude, I could-"
"You wouldn't be intruding!" Sam cut her off quickly. A little bit too quickly. He cleared his throat again, and avoided Dean's direction, though he could already see Dean's smirk very clearly in his mind. "I mean, you probably wouldn't get much sleep staying here tonight, and the motel isn't that bad. I'm sure you have questions too, I don't mind answering them?"
"Oh, well yeah, if you really don't mind then that would be nice". She smiled at Sam and he nodded at her, visibly relaxing and now hopeful that he didn't come across as too enthusiastic.
"We'll help you get your stuff, then I need a drink". Dean clapped Sam's shoulder and pressed his hand to the small of [Y/N]'s back, pushing them in front of him to stand beside each other as he guided them back through to the hotel's reception. Sam's arm brushed against [Y/N]'s and he mumbled a 'sorry', looking down at her and rolling his eyes back to his brother, smiling when [Y/N] giggled at him.
***
"Sorry again about Dean". Sam said as he opened the door to the motel room. He had [Y/N]'s bag over his shoulder and she followed behind him, not being able to help her eyes wander across the large expanse of his back. His jacket and t-shirt had rucked up a bit from the bag and she could see tanned skin just above the waistband of his jeans.
"It's okay". She said as she closed the door behind them. Sam let the bag down on one of the beds and went to sit on the other, facing her. "Thanks for everything". She breathed out as she walked to the bed with her bag on it, sitting down beside it and facing Sam. "So, this is what you guys do? Kill ghosts?"
"And monsters, demons, anything that hurts people really". He shrugged casually, and she widened her eyes at how nonchalant he was about it.
"All of that is in this small town?"
"No, no we travel around. We're actually kinda looking for our dad at the moment, we just take on cases as we come across them".
She sat there for a moment, taking it in. Just an hour ago she had no idea that anything supernatural existed, and now she was sitting opposite a guy who hunted supernatural beings for a living. "How long have you been doing this? You and your brother?" She asked and he looked away, almost a look of shame on his face.
"My mom died when I was a baby, Dean was four. Demon. My dad's been hunting it down ever since, so I guess I've been in it pretty much my whole life. Except, I spent four years in college, Dean came to get me a few months ago". She raised an eyebrow at this.
"You went to college? Like, to study the supernatural or something?"
"No". Sam chuckled. "I was studying law actually". He looked back to her and smiled sadly. "Wasn't meant to be. This is my life, me and Dean. Saving people, hunting things, the family business, as he says anyway". He sighed, as if he was relieved to have someone to explain it to. "What about you? What brings you here?"
"This is just a stop, I'm on my way home from staying with a friend for a few weeks. I should be home tomorrow afternoon". She covered her mouth as she yawned. "I think I should get some sleep, I have a long drive ahead of me tomorrow". He nodded as she said this.
"You should use the bathroom first then". He said and she stood up, smiling at him before grabbing her bag and heading to the bathroom. She closed the lid on the toilet and sat on it, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She wasn't actually that tired, but looking at Sam for so long was difficult. He was incredibly attractive, genuine, and big. If she'd sat in front of him for any longer she would've found it difficult to hide the fact that she'd been pressing her legs together, trying to relieve some tension. She felt ridiculous. She'd just found out about the supernatural, had been thrown around by a ghost, saved by two strangers, and was now alone in a motel room with one of them, and all she could think about was touching his skin. She imagined how his hair would feel between her fingers, how his lips would feel on his neck, what he tasted like...
"[Y/N]"? Sam's muffled voice travelled through the door as he knocked on it. She shook her head and cleared her throat.
"Yeah?"
"You okay in there?"
"Yeah... yeah give me a minute".
"Take your time, just checking on you". She stood up and looked into the mirror above the sink. Just checking on you, she added 'considerate' to her list of adjective for Sam. She quickly turned on the tap and splashed some cold water into her face in an attempt to calm herself down. She stripped out of her clothes and rummaged through her bag for her pyjamas, setting them on the counter as she pulled out her toiletries. She scooped up her hair onto the top of her head, securing it there as she stepped into the shower. She was pleasantly surprised to find the water hot, making sure to make it quick and not use it all up.
Once she was washed and into her pyjamas, which consisted of a loose t-shirt and shorts, she left the room and walked past Sam to her bed. He looked up at her as she walked by and he swallowed nervously, trying not to stare at her bare legs or how the baggy shirt left part of her shoulder exposed. He quickly excused himself to the bathroom, and she lay back on the bed, her mind once again wandering, imagining what the room she'd just been in now looked like with Sam in there. She imagined how the water looked dripping from his body, how he'd spread the soap over his torso, his legs, his arms. She let out a shaky breath as she pictured what was happening just beyond the thin wooden door between them.
She was pulled from her thoughts at the sound of the door unlocking, and she tried not to stare as Sam stepped out, dressed in jeans and a new t-shirt which just about fit, apart from his arms, where it hugged his muscles a little too tight. Droplets of water dripped from his hair onto his shoulder as he sat down on his bed, looking straight at [Y/N], watching her as she looked at his body, no longer able to stop herself. He chuckled and this caught her attention, pulling her gaze up to his face, where she noted his dimples before locking eyes with him. "What you thinking about?" He asked, grinning at her. She blushed and swallowed, looking away and shaking her head.
"Sorry".
"Don't be. I should take a look at that arm, just to check it". He said as he stood up to cross over to her bed, sitting on the edge of it and reaching his hand out to her. She sat up and reached towards him. He lifted her arm and placed it in his hand. He was warm, safe. He looked it over and gently turned it over, a look of concentration on his face as he examined it. "Just a bruise. Dean was right, you were great in there".
"You think?" She asked quietly, her arm still in Sam's hand.
"Yeah, a lot of people freeze. You didn't, you listened to us and figured out what needed to burn. It was refreshing". His thumb now lightly glided over her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps as it did. "Are you cold?" He asked as he saw her try to hide a shiver.
"A little".
"Why don't you get under the covers then and get some sleep, I'll help you with your stuff in the morning". He smiled and let go of her arm before getting up, giving her space to pull back her covers and slide in.
"Thank you again, for everything. I can't imagine what would have happened if you two hadn't shown up when you had". She looked up to him as he sat back down on her bed.
"You're safe now". He smiled. He leaned over cautiously, giving her time to move away, and pressed his lips to her forehead. Without thinking she reached up and lightly touched his cheek as he pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. She absentmindedly stroked his jaw, slightly scratchy from the light shadow of stubble on it. When he made no indication of pulling away farther, her thumb lightly skimmed his lower lip, and he brought his hand up to rest on her cheek, returning the favour. He kissed her thumb, keeping eye contact with her.
"Sam". She whispered, not calling to him, not trying to get his attention, just liking the feel of his name on her lips. She slipped her hand to the back of his neck, letting his damp hair slip through her fingers as she made an attempt to pull him closer. He obliged, leaning down so his lips hovered over hers. They closed their eyes as their lips touched, both of them slightly hesitant. She licked at his lips and he immediately let her in, deepening the kiss as their tongues worked together. Her grip in his hair tightened and he groaned, pushing her hands around her back and pulling her up, letting the covers slide off and lifting her, putting his hand under her knee to pull her over onto his lap so she was straddling him. His hands rested on her hips, slowly encouraging her to grind against him as she broke the kiss, kissing down his jaw and settling into his neck where she kissed and licked. He leaned his head to the side, giving her more access as he pushed one of his hands under her t-shirt, grabbing her waist.
"I want to feel you". She whispered into his ear as her hands trailed down his sides to the hem of his t-shirt. He threw his head back and groaned before leaning in to kiss her jaw.
"Take it off then". He mumbled into her skin. She grabbed his shirt and pulled up until she couldn't reach anymore, then he helped and threw it into a corner of the room. She sat back in his lap and placed her hands onto his chest, feeling his heart beat quickly beneath them. Slowly, she let her hands fall down his chest, feeling the muscles in his abdomen tense as she glided over them. He shivered as she reached his waistband, his skin warm under her finger tips. He grabbed her hands and placed them over his belt. "Take it off". He whispered into her ear, returning his hands to her waist as she began to unbuckle his belt. Once his belt was off, he pushed her shirt up and over her head, immediately reaching around to unclasp her bra, leaving her in just her shorts. He stared at her for a moment, blush slowly creeping onto his cheeks as he thought about the situation he was in. "You're beautiful". He tentatively raised a hand to grab a boob, the other resting on her hip, one of his fingers dipping into her waistband. She returned to his neck as he felt her, moaning as she kissed up along his jaw and finally settled on his lips again. She could feel him hard beneath her as she rocked her hips back and forth over him.
"I need more". He decided as he flipped her over onto the bed and crawled on top of her, kissing up her stomach and between her breasts, up along her neck and jaw to her lips. She clung onto his shoulders as he reached down and pushed her shorts down. "Can I have more?" He whispered into her mouth and she nodded immediately.
"You can have whatever you want, Sam". She kicked off her shorts and spread her legs for him. His fingers danced around the top of her panties before they dipped inside. He groaned at the wetness and continued to kiss her as he pushed a finger inside, feeling the warmth and softness of her. "Sam". She moaned as he used his thumb to brush against her clit. He continued to work her up, slipping another finger inside, and then another, hitting just the right spot inside her. When he felt her tighten up he'd pull away for a moment, smiling as she whimpered, before working her back up again. "I want to feel you too". She moaned after his third go at edging her. He pushed himself off her and stood up. She looked up as he stood between her legs and pushed his jeans and boxers down in one go, his cock standing up against his stomach as he stepped out of his clothes. She quickly pulled her panties down and kicked them off as Sam leaned over to the bag on his bed, pulling out a little silver foil.
"We don't have to do everything if you don't want to, just let me know". He said as he lay the foil down on the bed and pulled her up into a sitting position. He remained standing between her legs as she looked over his body. "You can touch me, if you want". He said as he tucked her hair behind her ear. She nodded and reached forward, closing her hand around him and smiling as he twitched against her touch. She began to slowly pump him up and down, twisting slightly, brushing her thumb over his slit to collect some of the precum and spread it over his length. "That feels amazing". He groaned as he knocked his head back, starting to thrust into her hand. She leaned forwards and licked him from the base to the tip. "Fuck". He muttered as he looked down at her. She knew he'd taste good, and looking up at the pleasure on his face just made her more eager to continue. She took him completely into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she continued to lick around him. He grabbed her hair and held it back as she blew him, enjoying every moment until he pulled her off him. "I won't last if you keep that up, I want to be inside you".
"I want that too". She wiped her mouth quickly and pushed herself back onto the bed as he grabbed the foil. He tore it open with his teeth as if it was something he did every day, and for the first time that night, she wondered just how many times he'd slept with the girl he'd saved. She quickly pushed that out of her head as she watched him roll the condom on, pinching the tip before crawling back over her. He rubbed his tip against her entrance a couple of times before looking into her eyes. "Are you good?" He asked and she nodded, keeping eye contact with him as he slowly pushed inside her, pulling a moan from her lips. "Fuck... you feel good". He chuckled quietly as he leaned down to kiss her. "Can I move?" He asked as he pecked the corner of her mouth. She quickly nodded and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. He kissed her again as he pulled out, leaving just the head inside before thrusting back in. They kissed each other as Sam rocked his hips into her, quickly slipping into a steady pace. He reached down to circle her clit as he kissed her neck and she gasped at the sensation.
She could feel the pressure building back up again, stronger than before now that Sam was filling her, hitting the right spot with each thrust, giving her clit just the right amount of attention. She lightly bit his earlobe and kissed his jaw as he remained nestled into her neck, the vibrations from his moans spreading throughout her. They began to moan each other's name as she tightened around him, all of the pressure suddenly being released and travelling up throughout her body and down through her legs. She shook around him as he stilled inside of her, spilling into the condom. He collapsed on top of her, resting his head in between her neck and shoulder as he caught his breath. She turned her head to kiss his cheek and pushed her hand into his hair, gently rubbing his head while catching her own breath. "Sorry". He mumbled into her. "I'm squishing you". He pushed himself up and leaned his elbows either side of her head before ducking down to kiss her lips. "You're incredible".
"So are you". She giggled and cupped his cheek, pulling him back down for another kiss. "I think I need another shower".
He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, yeah I think I need one too. Wanna share?" He asked and she nodded, letting him pull her up with him. She expected him to let go once she had her feet on the ground, but he scooped her up into his arms and held her against his chest, carrying her into the bathroom. "I think we'll only need one bed tonight". He grinned at her, showing off his dimples again as he set her down in front of the toilet, leaning into the shower to turn it on.
"Definitely". She grinned back at him.
The end
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tia-222 · 4 months
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okay so i don't know if this counts as a full success, but i have a void story!
a couple hours ago i was napping because i was tired af from melatonin, and i woke up a couple different times and quickly fell back asleep without thinking. then i woke up again, but this time i was awake long enough to be like "oh yeah i should try to get into the void"
so because i was so tired, it was super easy and quick. i was laying flat on my back and closed my eyes, and i just tried keeping my mind awake. so i repeated "mind awake, body asleep" and i would mentally talk to myself inbetween to stay awake and conscious. LITERALLY IN UNDER 5 MINUTES I STARTED TO FEEL IT. i genuinely and truly felt my body fall asleep and get numb, and the sound of my tv started to fade in and out. i knew exactly what was happening and i was focusing on keeping my body asleep. i was getting really excited because of how the sounds around me kept fading because i knew i was finally getting to the void but then i got a little too happy and accidentally moved 😭
BUT IT WAS SO EASY! AND BC OF THIS EXPERIENCE I KNOW FOR A FACTT THAT I CAN DO IT AGAIN🫶🫶
OMW CONSIDER THIS AS A VOID SUCCESS STORY <3.
You've just experienced what entering the void feels like and I'm super proud of you. Ikr, entering the void state when you're super sleepy kinda helps because your body just wants to sleep, I mean ofc it should but we should use it to our advantage :-). And no, ik everyone's mind is gonna go into overdrive here thinking that they should take " melatonin ", not really. You just need to stay up late or wake up 2 hours before you normally do.
There's a void success story on Reddit that's kinda similar to this, I'm gonna share because I think it will help understand how easy entering the void state through mind awake/ body asleep stage ♡.
" I entered a pure consciousness/ void state last night "
" Hello everyone! So last night I went to sleep actually early and decided I was going to try to do the void method. I haven’t done it in a year or so because before I was trying really hard before to enter the state and it was just a big mental mess lol.
This time I had no expectations, as I knew that was one of the things that always held me back from shifting or even entering deep meditative states like the void state. So before experiencing the void state/ pure consciousness state, I made sure to say: I have no expectations, i would like to experience the pure consciousness/void state” and then got relaxed in bed.
So I went on my side as that was the most comfortable for me. Last time I forced myself to do starfish position and that made things worse. Anyways I kept affirming “ my mind is awake but my body is asleep” repeatedly. Again, I made sure I had no expectations because it makes me anxious to see if I’m in the void state or not. After about a minute or 2 I begin to experience my whole body going numb and disappearing, and the sounds around me immediately being on mute. My head felt heavy and then i remember just hearing just my thoughts and floating and nothing else. It was very peaceful and quiet and I didn’t even think about shifting because of how peaceful it was!.
I didn’t realize how quick I got into that state when I didn’t hold high expectations for myself to enter. But that’s something that I’ve found that truly works for me and takes the pressure off of shifting!. Overall it was a very cool experience. During the early morning I even ended up doing it again just for fun!"
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brailsthesmolgurl · 9 days
Text
1 YOU, 1 ME
This is a one-shot request by one of the lovely readers of mine, enjoy this one :) Although I must say, this brings me back to the days when I used to be suicidal, so the experiences of mine are translated into the form of reader's POV so that you would get to take a trip of what I had dealt with as well. Just as my other one-shot Delirious, I do not take mental health as to be a joke. I am here for you if you needed someone to talk to, just like how I know you would be supportive of my works. I would do my best to cater to you as well because YOU MATTER <3.
Warnings: Deals with HEAVY Topics, Depression Mentions, Heavy Angst but yes to fluff. Please please please refrain if you are easily influenced by such topics.
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XAVIER
When you had arrived at HQ today, Captain Jenna had approached you, handing you a file and informing you about the location of the wanderer as per usual. You studied the file, the wanderer looking like a saber-tooth, with fangs that could definitely pierced through skin like paper. "Good morning." You directed your head upwards and your partner stood by the side of your desk, a smile on his handsome features as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"Good morning Xavier." You handed the blue file to him and he took it, opening up the page and started reading through the details just like you did. "This should be a relatively easy mission. You ready for it?" He gently placed the file onto your desk and he waited for you to get up, before walking at the same pace as you to get to the basement parking.
Xavier is wearing his white suit today, the silverish-blue garters an accessory that also serves as a tool. You can tell that he had a good sleep last night given that his blazer was pressed and there is barely a crease on it. Regardless, crumpling of clothings would be normal anyways given the dynamic range of movements hunters have to do to kill a wanderer.
The mission had ended early just like every other time. Your pairing is known to be the best due to the compatibility of Xavier's light evol and your Resonance evol, hence it is an added advantage when it comes to dealing with wanderers. Him dealing damage to one of the wanderers and your evol resonates the same act of his, inflicting damage upon other wanderers without you touching them.
"Shall we go and get something to eat?" Xavier asked you, readjusting his garter and wiping off some of the dried crusts of a wanderer's bodily fluids off of his shoulders.
You flicked your hand, your weapon disappearing on call and you looked over to him. "It's alright. I am a little tired. I'm just gonna head home for the night." You turned and started heading towards the direction of your parked motorcycle, the moonlight only being your source of lighting.
"Wait, don't wander around alone." His warned, footsteps catching up to yours effortlessly. "You might get lost in this forest you know."
Your lack of comeback made him ran his palm across the back of his neck out of embarassment. If only you are still interested in his facial features, then you might just be able to catch sight of him blushing bashfully. "My bike's here. I'm gonna head off. Enjoy your meal." You did not give him any time to revert the same to you. You just hiked up onto your bike and rode off into the night.
The same situation happened for a couple more times, till he got used to it. You would appear for missions, complete it and then you would leave. Just like how he did last time when you first met him but now the tables have seemingly turned. He watched you as you tried to control your breath after the wanderer was defeated. This time it was a huge creature, with a large tail lined with huge spikes that could kill with one swipe and it took the both of you a bit more time than usual to defeat it.
"Hey, y/n, do you---" He walked closer to you, leaning down to get a better view of your hidden face. The long hair of yours a brunette curtain.
"No Xavier, I am fine." You assumed he was going to ask you out for dinner but you were quick to reject, not wanting to add on to anymore complications. "I just needed some time to myself."
"I was meaning to ask, if you are okay?" He stopped for a tad bit. "Is everything alright?"
Your nod was curt but his frown is becoming more prominent by every added minute. "I can tell something is wrong y/n."
"Perhaps I have not been getting enough sleep recently." You dismissed him, walking towards your bike with him following behind you in quickened footsteps. "But I can assure you I am fine."
"But, you barely come to HQ and you have been excusing yourself from dinner with me after missions. Your reason for the past few times have only been 'I am fine' and 'I am tired' which is what's concerning me." He came up to you, obstructing you from getting onto your motorbike.
"Xavier." Your voice lowered. "I just want to go home and rest." With your tone, the blondie gave up, sighing and stepping aside to let you get onto your bike and he watched as you revved your engine and darted off into the embrace of the darkness.
┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✧
The rings of your doorbell beckoned you to get up and off of your couch, the drama on your television turning into white noise in the back. Not that you were actually watching it anyways, the screen was on but your mind was floating elsewhere. This time however, you did not falter into your state of guilt, rendering you a chance to actually sit in still silence. You are admittedly taken aback at the sound of your doorbell ringing as you do not have any visitors checking in anytime soon including Tara. You took your time to get to the door, not even bothering to check the peephole and you swung open your door.
Here he is now, in front of your door, looking down at you from his towering height, with a casual outfit and a pizza box in his hands. Yes, he did pretended he was the pizza man just to get you to open up the door for him. Now he also knows that the peephole is just a decoration for your door.
The sight of you however, made his jaw dropped mentally. Your arm was littered in cut marks, in different shapes and depth, but the crusting of the scabs tells him that this had happened a couple of days ago. You nervously pulled your sleeves down to hide your scars, making intense eye contact with the ground. It did not hit you for you to cover your scars as to a stranger, they would care less of what happens behind your doors. But maybe much of a dismay towards Xavier. He occupied himself within your door frame and you staggered backwards.
"What's wrong?" He placed the pizza box onto the shelf next to him and he gently took your arm, pushing the sleeve up. Your hiss made him halted his actions, eyeing you for a further reaction before he spoke. "Why did you do this?"
"I..." You could not make up any words, tears gathering at the back of your eyes. The guilt flowing its way through your system instantly. It was like you lost all of your control and succumbed to your emotions. The emotions that you were so scared of showing to anyone. Especially to Xavier. With him being your partner, and your crush. You did not want him to report this to the team, and you certainly do not want him to think differently about you. "I...I was scared..." Your fist tightening. "I didn't want to lose anyone else like how I lost Tara."
Ever since that day you found out about Tara's death, you got lost. Blaming yourself was the only viable way for you to forgive yourself. She was stuck with some rookie to go and defeat a wanderer on the day you had called in sick. It was that specific mission with the inexperience rookie that got both her and the rookie killed.
Yes, it has nothing to do with you but it also has EVERYTHING to do with you. What if you did not report in sick that day? Maybe things would have had a better turn? And maybe, just maybe Tara would be able to pull through till you arrived on the scene? You remembered, the way she stared at you as she laid on the battlefield, blood oozing out of all of her orifices. Her eyes a window to her soul, opened but lifeless. As if she died hoping you could have arrived on time.
Xavier said nothing, his breaths slow and steady. Approaching you, the blond haired man pulled you in by your waist, his grip solid. You had sunken into the hole of self-blame, rotating around a death circle and at this point, Xavier could do nothing but to tell you that he is here for you, through his actions. "It's not your fault that she lost her life, y/n. Please don't blame it on yourself. I am sure Tara would not want you to do this to yourself either." He slowly lifted your arm up, analysing the wounds. They are skin deep but not deep enough to damage your skin permanently but he had to wash this and wrap this up quickly before it evolves into a nasty infection.
"I just couldn't stop myself Xavier. It hurts so much in my head that physical pain is the only way to relief it." You croaked with your dry throat. "I just felt so sad you know. Like it really hurts my heart. I don't know what is this feeling." After the first few hours of you losing Tara, you experienced nausea and headaches. Then comes the crying and the grief and then to the self-blame. You had read up about mental pain being able to manifest itself into physical pain but you were too ignorant of how severe this may be. So severe to the point that you had to result to self-harm to remind yourself of the pain you had to go through because of your carelessness. Leading you towards the bathroom, the boy was careful in his words and steps. "I believe this is what one would call grief. It hurts so much mentally that it hurts you physically as well. In this case, you have to hurt yourself to relieve the pain and I think it is time for you to meet a psychiatrist y/n." He sat you down onto the toilet seat and took out the medical kit from your cabinet. His words gave you the confirmation of what you had read about being factual. Kneeling down, he seeked for your confirmation with an alcohol pad in his hand.
When you nodded, he dabbed the pad across your arm and you bit onto your lips harshly to stop yourself from screaming out in agony. You do not deserve to scream as you had done this to yourself. His pause made you look at him. "You do not have to hold back. If it hurts, you can scream. If it hurts, you can cry. If it hurts still, you can talk to me." His eyes were sincere, the cerulean orbs a vast ocean, inviting you to be within his embrace as he opened up his arms to you.
And you fell, straight onto your knees and you grabbed onto his shirt, the blood crusts on your sleeve staining his shirt in the progress but the both of you could care less. You needed a good cry while he knows that you needed comfort. "It's alright y/n, I am here for you. I will always be here for you." His fingers ran through your hair, tucking some stray strands behind your ear, your body shook with every sob you took. "I just need you to know that regardless what happens, you can always tell me. I will never leave you alone, I can't bear to see you in this state because I love you." His sudden confession halted your cries for a moment, staring up at him with the ugliest look you got.
At this moment, you really wished that you could take any other days to hear his confession rather than hearing it from him when you are in such a vulnerable state. Seriously, who would want to get a confession when they are having a break down and they have tears and snot streaked on their face as part of their 'makeup'?
"You are saying this because you pity me, don't you?" You were ready to pull back, a slither of embarassment passed your expressions. "I do not need your pity."
"I do not pity you, y/n. In fact, I had always been admiring you for the things you do. You had uphold yourself well despite you are struggling so much. I really do like you and no matter what I will always be here for you." He reinstated his point and you grabbed hold onto his neck, crying even louder, strained voice echoed through your bathroom.
"I thought, I really thought I would have to deal with this all by myself. I can't, I never know that I am this weak." Your cries a reflection of your sadness and your relief, knowing that you can finally put your heart at rest, not having to deal with the grief all alone like how you always done it to yourself. Xavier placed his hand under your chin again and you looked up into his eyes of blue, with him leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. The death cycle shall come to an end.
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ZAYNE
You tapped your feet onto the tiled floor impatiently. Clack, clack, clack. If anyone were to be within your vicinity now, your tapping against the floor would definitely be another added on frustration towards their state. Eyes darting everywhere, focusing on one thing to another. The door in front of you still remained tightly shut. The smell of antiseptic a constant fragrance within the hospital and you were about to get a headache.
You are up for your monthly routine check-up and meeting Zayne has always been nerve-wrecking, not because your heart is desperately trying to jump its way out of your chest and to give Zayne a hug, but it is also because you would like him to examine your brain as well. You figured something has been wrong with you mentally recently, after Tara's death to be exact. You get hot flashes at night, waking up at ungodly hours and sometimes, just sometimes, you would just want to lie in bed all day and not wanting to do anything, let alone eating.
You could not pinpoint exactly what was going wrong until the day you woke up from a nightmare, your chest tightened in a way you had never experienced before. Your breaths short and rushed, but no air was going into your lungs. Your throat had constricted airflow as well, choking you till your tears are being squeezed out of your eye sockets. It was until you had to scratch your arm till you bleed then you only regained consciousness, your breathing slowed, airways opening to welcome the fresh breaths of air that you were restrained from. You thought it was an allergy reaction for a moment but you were sure none of the allergies would get you to paw through your arm, breaking the skin barrier and seeing crimson red to replace the pain you had felt a while ago. Something is clearly wrong.
You had chose to wear a loose sweater today, not wanting to reveal your so-called battle scar to random strangers. Not wanting them to judge you for 'Im so emo, I hurt myself to be cool and I preach that battle scars are a sign for me fighting for my life in everyday society'. You can hear that in your own head, slowly succumbing into a state of blurred vision as you lowered your head, your vision darkening. "It's your turn." The familiar voice brought you out of your own reverie. Another shadow loomed over your hunched body, with straight shoulders and what seemed to be an outline of a long coat, you knew it was Zayne.
"Yeah." You stood up slowly and followed behind the cardiologist into his room. As usual, you took a seat next to his desk, the padded seat warm to your bum. A knob twisting, in suit with a locking sound, it marks the start for your checkup session. The room was filled with tension, as Zayne ran his stethoscope down your back, listening cautiously to your heartbeat as you took in deep breaths. The man's eyebrows were furrowed, eyes narrowed as if your heartbeat had an arrythmia. "What is it?" You asked, noticing that the listening session of his is unusually longer then usual.
"It seems like your heartbeat is slower. And there were slight staggers of arrhythmia on your right atrium. I should run some bloodtests and perhaps get an MRI scan on your heart as well." He retracted the stethoscope away from your back and walked to the front of you, fingers scooped your chin up and you looked at the man in front of you now. Standing tall, with broad shoulders that could be spotted underneath the bulky medical coat of his. He is in his blue scrubs today, perhaps a surgery aligned earlier on and he did not have much time to change out of it.
He took a small flashlight the shape of a pen out of his coat and he leaned down, a waft of his cologne hitting your nose. Minty fresh with a mix of antiseptic, that is what he smells like on the days he has a full schedule ahead. You peeled open you eyes wider and he flashed the light into your pupils, his hazel green orbs in an uncalled staring competition with you. "Pupils are functioning well as usual, but I do realise some redness at your whites. Have you been getting enough sleep?" A slight hint of him caring for your quality of sleep went away as fast as it arrived.
"I...Actually..." Your lips froze, words forming at the tip of your tongue but you could not roll out any of them. It was like your brain was subconsciously begging you not to tell Zayne, in order to not ruin his impressions of you being a healthy individual. He is a doctor, what harm would that cause if you were to tell him that you had been experiencing some mental issues these past few days? Perhaps he would just throw you some medical facts, ask you to drink more water and you should feel better in a day or two.
Then you recalled when your grandmother had passed, he did not show any bits of sympathy towards you other than passing on the box that was left behind by your late grandmother. He did not even ask if you were doing alright when you sat right here in his office, trying so hard to hold those choked sobs back. The thought of him not showing any sympathy towards you during the loss of your grandmother gave you the ultimate decision that you will not reveal anything to him. "I had been sleeping late these days because of paperwork."
The doctor sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the glasses sat comfortably at the bump he has on his nose. "If its so, try not to procrastinate in the afternoon and actually do your paperwork instead of rushing them all at once in the middle of the night." His sound advice not a bit helpful to your fib. "You wearing a long sleeved sweater in the middle of summer would cause you to get a heat stroke, which would directly affect your heart as well. So I would advice you to keep cool whenever you can." He sat down in his chair, picking up a pen and started scribbling away on the prescription tab. "As for now, take these medications for your arrhythmia. Once the MRI is scheduled I will get the nurse to contact you to come in for the scan."
┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✧
"Y/n." Tap tap tap. "Y/n wake up." An oddly familiar voice drowned your hearing, your body lifted off of the floor by a force. "Y/n. Please wake up." The smell of antiseptic filled your nose and your eyes slowly opened up, the blinding lights above made it hard for you to adjust to your surroundings. Your name was called out again and you turned your head a little, catching sight of Zayne, his eyes slightly widened. He was staring at you as if he had seen a ghost. You could barely remember what happened. Ringing in your heads made you winced and the man pulled you tighter within his arms. Your face now against his hard torso. "What happened?"
You blinked your eyes a couple more times and you looked down. Blood pooled on your wooden floors, the wax layered on top of it preventing the liquid from seeping through. Your arms were streaked in red, the evidence clear as daylight underneath your fingernails. It probably happened again, did it? "I...I don't know." You responded weakly, your lips equivalent to sandpaper. "I don't know what happened."
Zayne pushed you back a little and he held your arm up by your wrist, eyeing over all of the bloody and deep scratches to search for a sign of infection. Perhaps, a sign for why would you do this to yourself as well. Zayne decided to come by your abode when you had missed out on your MRI appointment, him knowing that you would not purposely miss out on any medical appointments and even if you have to, you would at least have the decency to make a call to inform.
That day when you left the room, he noticed your charm was lacking, your retorts were non-existent, and your face was ghoulish. You struggling to tell him a piece of your mind, only to retract back and say that you fell asleep late due to paper work caught the doctor off-guard as well. But he is not the type to intrude, to ask you questions that you would not want to answer.
He came by, searching under your potted plants for the key and it was slotted right beneath the jasmine pot that he had given you as a congratulatory present when you got accepted into Unicorn. His heart inexplicably felt warm at the thought of you still caring for the jasmine till this day. He twisted the key into the doorknob and it clicked open, slotting himself right into your doorway and he looked through your apartment. It looked neat, but the lights were not turned on. He heard a loud thud and his footsteps reacted to it, carrying him across your living room and towards your bedroom.
Another thud, this time louder, echoed through your room and he opened the door hastily, immediately catching sight of your body, laying on the floor, jolting as if you were shocked by an invisible electric current. You are having a seizure, in a pool of blood that he could only assume belonging to you. He took three long strides and he was shocked to his core. Your arms were littered with long and narrow open wounds, the culprit being your blood stained fingers. Your eyes were flipped to the back of your head, veins popped out of your neck as one of your hand latched itself onto your forearm and yo dug deeper into your wounds. "Y/n!" He shouted, unbuttoning his sleeves and pushing them up his forearm and he dived down onto his knees to heave you towards him, away from the wall.
He immediately started doing CPR, going according to the beat as he switched between pumping your chest and blowing air into your mouth. The effectivity of the CPR started kicking in when your convulsions started to calm down, your body going from tensing to limp and you laid unmoving on the floor. He leaned down to get a good hearing of your heart. It is beating in a normal rhythm, a good sign that you are still alive. The arrhythmia is gone now but the soon-to-be scars on your arms is the next thing he worries about.
He did not understand, none of the theories he had studied about one's physicality applied. The heart arrhythmia, the sight of you convulsing on the floor, the hearings of your choked breaths as he watched you, the skin deep lacerations inflicted upon yourself only with the use of your fingernails. None of the symptoms matched any of his medical theories. i am not a doctor, pls dont chew me on this :,)
Unless it has something to do out of his field, which is the mental aspect. Zayne being a doctor, although succeeded at a relatively young age, but his expertise has always been within the field of cardiology. Of course he has friends within the psychological field, but it never struck him that you would end up with a mental illness. You had always been fit as a fiddle in his eyes, both mentally and physically. But all it takes is for two accidents in a row to trigger the mental illness for you. If its so, why did you not tell him anything about it? Why did you keep it all to yourself? He knew he should have said something, he should have stayed by your side when he found out about Tara's death. It was too short of a timeframe for you to be dealing with two deaths within a few months' gap.
"It's alright, you will be okay. Everything will be alright." He only remembered during one of the mental illness campaigns he was asked to attend, they taught of ways to identify individuals experiencing mental illness and very little was talked about how can one deal with someone who is having an episode. The speaker said something about acceptance, comfort and validation. And that is to the extent of what Zayne knows.
"Y/n, I need you to take in deep breaths, I need you to calm down." He could not treat her just like any other patient in this damn moment. This vulnerability of hers is new territory for him, but it shows that she is not as strong as she portrays herself to be and this part of her provoked him to want to be there for her even more than before.
"I don't know...I don't know why I am like this." You trembled in his arms, your head spinning and you felt like you were about to taste bile anytime.
"And it is not your fault, y/n." His voice is calm, soothing to your ears. You could feel his hot breath against the shell of your ear and you looked up at him, the lights above him forming an angelic halo. "It shall never be your fault." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I am sorry that I was never there for you. From now on, let me be there for you." Other than the kiss on your forehead being a shock factor, the fact he wanted to be involved in your life and your 'journey-to-recovery' made your heart skipped an extra beat. "I promise you, from now on, I will always be by your side, only when you want me to."
You lifted your hand up to touch his cheeks, your palm cold to the touch on his warm face. You swore you saw him blushed for a mere second. "Of course I would want you to be by my side Zayne." And he gave you a comforting smile. The man then slowly inched down, eyes looking between your eyes and lips. When you tilt your head upwards, he took it as your consent and you both shared the first kiss.
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RAFAYEL
"Do you want that?" Rafayel asked you, index finger pointed right at a banana boat plushie. Two 'flavours' to be picked from, one with the usual chocolate, vanilla and strawberry theme while the other has a caramel, vanilla and banana theme. You were about to pick for the latter but the man standing beside you was quicker in calling out shots. "I think the original one would fit you better. The colour theme just looks more harmonious than the other."
You watched as he picked up the dart and aimed it towards the target. He pulled his wrist back and with a flick, the dart landed onto the target's bullseye. The stall owner did not look a bit amused, probably thinking that he could scam Rafayel enough money for a meal. Walking over to the banana boat plushie, the guy took it down and handed it to Rafayel over the counter. "Thanks." You smiled, hugging the plushie when he gave it to you.
"Where is my hug?" Rafayel looked betrayed, the signature pout of his surfacing. "I was the one who scored you Mr.Babana here." Yes, he called it Babana. Smiling, you went over to him, arms opened wide and you hugged him, your head settling right into his chest. He smelled of grapefruit and white wood, with a splash of peach as the base. You thought he only used one perfume for all types of events as he has voiced his dislike for strong smelling scents but you were clearly wrong. Musky smelling ones for when he attends interviews, fresh smelling ones for when he attends events, and sweet smelling ones are only reserved for his outings with you.
His chin was propped right above the top of your head, and he smells fresh shampoo. You nagging him about how sakura composites are good for the hair recently is enough for him to know what shampoo you are currently using. To Rafayel, you are not that hard to decipher. In fact, you may be one of the most uncomplicated character he had ever met in his life. Your genuine emotions and expressions a direct reflection to your conscience and that is exactly why he likes you.
"Thank you for the Mr.Babana." You chuckled, pulling away from the hug but his arms remained on your shoulder, he would have opted to hold your waist but he wanted to make sure that you would not be uncomfortable in this situation.
"My pleasure of course." He mimicked your smile and this time, the both of you took a step back from each other and then walked down the path together. The cobblestones beneath your shoe reflecting the lights from the parade, painting them in all sorts of colours that offers more variety than a rainbow. "Y/n, I have to travel abroad tomorrow to attend one of my exhibitions. So, I was wondering once I am back from my business trip, would you like to go out with me again?"
Him informing you about the business trip made you hesitant to answer him. Not because you did not want to go out on a date with him again. You just did not want to be alone. Not when you had just lost a friend to a wanderer. All of the smiles you had presented today are genuine, but deep down, you were worried your remorse would eat you up and ruin the whole date for today. The last thing you want is for Rafayel to be on the receiving end for your breakdowns.
"I am waiting for a yes." You jolted at how close he is to your face, you could practically feel his breath against your skin. He smirked, taking a step back to give you some breathing space, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans. The young man today adorned a fitted black tshirt with a pair of jeans, pairing over it is a jean jacket. Simple outfit but definitely looks amazing on him.
"Y...yeah, of course we can Rafayel." You looked down, nervously trying to calm your hyped heartbeats. With that, the date between you two came to an end, with Rafayel fetching you home safely and making sure you got into your home before he drove off.
┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✧
Rafayel had left for his business trip for the past two days. And for the past two days, it can only be described as hellish for you. Jerking yourself off of your bed, you sat straight, eyes widened as cold sweat trickled down the back of your neck. Yet another nightmare, the same one every night. With the sight of Tara laying on the traylike bed in the morgue, awaiting for you to identify her. She was as pale as the walls surrounding her, her body laid rigid, and her eyes closed. It almost seemed like she was asleep but you knew right then and there, she would not be able to open her eyes anymore.
She had a wound the size of a bullet in between her eyebrows. They called it a fatality spot as anything that is sharp enough to penetrate that area and passing the skull would be guaranteed an instant death. Just like what Tara had gone through. The wound however, according to autopsy, was inflicted by something biological, so bullets are out of the question and the only answer you could think of is the act of a berserk wanderer. You kept trying to blink, assuming that if you blinked hard enough, Tara would be able to rise again and everything would be back to how it was like. But, that's not the case most of the time.
Instead of accepting her death, you chose to deny it. Ironic, your identification process of Tara in the morgue is validated but you yourself chose to not accept the reality of her death. You even refused to go to her funeral the day after tomorrow, claiming to yourself that it would only make you hate yourself more than anything else. You were not there when it happened as you were sent onto another mission, a much tougher one that involves civillians. So, Tara was assigned this mission, just to deal with a bunch of wanderers. Or so you heard, but her wound says otherwise. Whatever wanderer she had been dealing with is certainly way beyond what she could handle.
The date between you and Rafayel took place the day after her funeral so the wounds of your grief still remained fresh. With that stated analogy, the first few days of your denial marks the start of your wounds, freshly cut opened, breaking off the surface of the skin barrier but still not deep enough to leave a scar. Now you are in phase two, where blood starts seeping through the wound as it has broken through the skin barrier, cutting deeper. This is where the nightmares become more and more revolting, more and more realistic that you have a hard time differentiating between your trance and reality.
You buried your face into Mr.Babana and you cried like there is no tomorrow. You had to get it out somehow, and the best way you could think of is to cry yourself to sleep again and pray hard so that you would not have a continuation of the nauseating nightmare. When you opened your eyes again, you were met with the warmth of the sunlight peeking in through your window. Sunlight in general, is known to promote energy boosting for one's body but right now, it only did the opposite for you.
Your phone rang, drowning out the sounds of your ugly cries. Shimmying towards you bedside, you held up your phone and you saw the contact name 'Your Favourite Fishie'. You specifically recalled that you had saved his name under Rafayel, but when did it got changed? Maybe it was during that time when he was playing on your phone while his was charging and he seized the opportunity to change his name into something so ridiculous like this. You sniffled, trying to calm your breathing the best possible and you answered the call. "Hello." You croaked out. Shit.
"Hey, y/n. Did I happen to wake you up?" His voice came through the other side of the call. He sounded borderline concern.
"No, you didn't don't worry. I woke up to use the washroom." You spoke, if he were to be in front of you right now, he would be nagging you to speak up but thank goodness your phone has a good microphone to pick up your small volume. "How is your exhibition going?"
"Boooring." You can tell he was rolling his eyes to the back of his head. "That's why I am already on my way back. I will arrive in probably half an hour. So would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"
Contemplating, you knew that if you were to meet him in 30 minutes, your puffy face would lead to a telltale sign that you had just cried. Then, you assumed that Rafayel would be disappointed with you. You see, Rafayel had never been the type to submit towards pressure, instead, he is a notorious rebel towards it. It is like he has something personal against stress. With your current status, you immediately felt like you are not worthy to be spending your time with him. Let alone having to have a huge crush on him. What makes you think that he would like you back if he found out about your current state of distress? He would definitely not want to deal with such an issue.
"Actually, today I am not free. I have stuffs to do." You gnawed onto your lip.
Pouting, the purple haired man crossed his legs nonchalantly, sitting himself comfortably in his luxurious car as Thomas drove it. "Like what stuffs?"
You panicked, eyes watery and you sniffled. "I have to go to the doctors. I am having a flu and I don't want to infect you."
Rafayel heard that sniffle of yours and he immediately replied. "Oh, alright. Then you rest well okay? There will always be some other day that I can bring you out for a nice dinner so you owe me that alright?"
"Yeah okay." And the call ended with him saying 'bye and take care'. Hanging up the phone, your lips quivered, chills ran down your spine as you started hesitating about whether you should still stay in contact with Rafayel. You could not possibly land him to be your boyfriend, where did the confidence come from? "I am just not worth it." Your cries then came back.
The next hour went by and you were laying in your bed the whole time, no will to move, no appetite, no will to even meet anyone. You just wanted to succumb to your loneliness, the sound of the fan is the only voice you can hear. The only company you have for now. You had just calmed down from your break down, your eyes full on puffy now and you are experiencing after-cries hiccups. Your mind had a constant voice, reminding you of just how useless you are not only at your job, but also your incapability to keep your emotions in check. Feeling overwhelmed, you curled into a ball and just allow the tears to flow.
The door to your room creaked open but it did not faze you. You were too caught up with the voices in your head but Rafayel's voice made you covered your ears. You are delusional now, great. Until a hand touched your shoulder then you snapped your head towards the source, met with purplish-blue eyes that were filled with utmost concern for you. "Hey, hey what happened?" He climbed onto your bed and sat right in front of you, his large hands cupping your small face, his thumb drew over your cheeks, dismissing your tears. "Why are you crying y/n? Did someone hurt you?"
Your silence marks the end of his questioning and he pulled you into his chest. His solid torso cushioning your head as he laid down with you in his arms, on top of him. "Shh, it's alright." Rafayel held you close to him. "I know things have been tough for you."
"We should stop meeting." Your desolating suggestion made him pulled back in shock, his eyes scanning your face for any smiles or hints of it being a joke but he did not find any at all. "I like you Rafayel, and I think this is not healthy for you."
"Who are you? The moral police? Who are you to determine what is healthy or not for me?" His eyebrows are furrowed in frustration. "Even if you want to push me away, you can't because I am in love with you y/n. I am so madly in love with you that I kept thinking about you everyday, everything that I see reminds me of you, every artwork that I inspect at the exhibition only related to you. So, you can't push me away, no matter how hard you try."
"But, whatever I am experiencing now, it makes me think I am not worth---" His finger silenced you, pressing it against your lips to ask you to shut up politely.
"Do not speak for me y/n. As much as I like to hear your voice, I do not want to hear such unflattering ideas from your pretty head okay?" He ran his hand down the sides of your cheek, his gaze loving. "I want you to know that, I will never let you cry alone, ever again. Do not worry about me being stressed out or anything about you not being able to be in control of your emotions. I am sure I can handle anything when it comes to you, for I had waited a long time for someone like you y/n. Annnnd I will not let something as simple as you going through a period of depression push me away. So, why don't you do me a favour and tell me what is going on in that pretty head of yours?"
His confession surely warmed your heart, with you staring at him in disbelief. You know he had always been showing signs of him being interested in you, but you never thought you would be able to catch sight of him being empathetic towards you. Your sobs came again, this time much more stronger and you leaned into him, spending the day telling him about everything that you had went through and ended up sleeping next to him. Rafayel propped himself up on his elbow and he watched your features, puffy and reddish but you did not lack your beauty amidst all of the chaos you have to go through. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, a promise to you that he would stay with you forever.
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This is the end of this one-shot and sorry my lovelies, this will not be getting an extra episode or anything. It shall only be ending here :,)
P.S: These are part and parcel of my actual experiences, hence I do not downplay or look down on anyone who are struggling with mental illness. As I know it is very tough to get over it. The part where Rafayel had spoken to reader, where he would be by his side blah blah, was actually what my boyfriend told me when I was having a terrible panic attack. So please my girlies, do not settle for the bare minimum and lower your standards for a guy/gurl who could not be better for you. Because you all deserve happiness oki.
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messycunt · 9 months
Note
No thoughts, only Leona and Tummy bulges
-🌸
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE GRUMPY LION i never manage to post birthday stuff on time so I'm super proud of being able to queue this in advance even tho I rushed it!
small context that's kinda not needed; reader missed leonas party so he's a lil sour abt that lol
cw: afab reader, creampie, size kink, scratching and biting but no blood, not proof read
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it gets so fucking hot in savanaclaw.
now that the sun has set its not that bad though. mostly anyway, the last rays of light casting gorgeous pink and orange hues visible through the wide open aired windows of the dorm. you're much too preoccupied to worry about any of that even though you should be, nrc does have a somewhat enforced curfew afterall. something to consider tomorrow maybe.
for hours its been like this; chest to your back, a hot mouth pressed against your neck leaving a path of wet bites and kisses, sharp freshly manicured nails(a 2 days early birthday gift from vil of all people apparently, how sweet…) digging into the fat of backs of your thighs to keep them pushed up to your chest and spread open. leona did almost all of the work for you, stuffing your cunt and bouncing your body up and back down on his lap.
grunting and panting against your neck he moves a hand from your thigh to push against your lower stomach. he can feel himself filling you and you squeal at the pressure. he mumbles a strained 'fuuuuck' under his breath before lifting you off of him, scoffing teasingly at your whine from the loss of him inside of you. you're pushed down onto the bed on all fours, your lion towers over you from behind.
a pile of gifts sits in the corner of his room. its not even half of what he received today in total since he gave most of it away in the last few hours, whatever ruggie didn't manage to already get his paws on anyways.
you face it now and leona's sliding himself back into you leaning over your much smaller body and nipping at the nape of your neck. a warm careful hand moving to where you both were joined to push and rub at your clit in slow lazy circles timed differently from his thrusts. he could feel your cunt pulsing with your heartbeat.
a few tags have long carefully written notes with long titles signed in gorgeous typography too small and loopy for you to read with your clouded mind and tears of pleasure filled eyes. most are written simply 'to: leona'.
he hums pleased with himself when you cum against him from his fingers(sure to have you finish first how princely!) popping his fingers into his mouth to lick clean and moan and slowing his thrusts.
his sweat drips down on your back to mix with your own. a growl sounds from behind you, weight is shifted to lean atop you more forcefully and nails dig again against your tummy. feeling again how he makes room for himself inside of you, he loves it. skin to skin for a second he stills and you gasp.
he fills your already warmer than warm insides with his own liquid heat and your toes curl. your gift to him and his gift to you.
face still smushed against the mattress and drool pooling in your mouth you mumble "happy 'irthday my prince". he simply grunts in acknowledgement, eyes already closed. he flops to lay on his slide facing you, fast asleep.
even if you went through with the effort to wake him up from his dead sleep you can already hear his tired mumbles of 'jus' clean up later' and 'ill walk you back to ramshackle tomorrow' before falling back asleep. so you leave him, snuggling up next to him silently and falling into a dreamless sleep.
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moonyswife · 4 months
Text
Coffee Talk
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Remus Lupin x reader
Warnings: Pure fluff, a bit of kissing and probs a bit of bad grammar.
06.26 AM
Dark clouds painted the sky, winter snow littered the ground outside, the freezing air was kept outside by the strong facade of the Potter Mansion. WInter break was coming to an end soon, as would her invitation to the Potter's, and as much as she missed the castle, the end of the mini vacation to James's with all their friend group for break was something she didn't want to end soon, or ever truthfully.
Y/m laid restless on her makeshift made on the guest room that was the designated "girl room", even though she shared a dorm with these lovely girls, they where incredibly more annoying during any kind of break, Marlene's snores where getting louder by the second, Mary kept talking in her sleep, Lily was way to clingy (they had to share a bed, because Lily agreed to come [begrudgingly] at the last minute).
With no room to breathe and uncomfortable, y/n got up, grabbed a blanket and with no care of being quiet left the room, these girls deserved to be disrupted, they deserved to be bothered, but alas, they where still fast sleep.
It was way to early too be up he sky was still awfully dark, she should be sleeping under a huge comfoter with her teddy and fuzzy socks, sadly she found herself laying on the couch with only a blanket to protect her from the freezing cold of the Potter's living room.
06:57 AM
A crack on the floor woke y/n up, she hadn't even realized she fell sleep, startled she sat up and cursed herself for not bringing her wand along, adjusting her eyes to find out whose face it was in the dark, it spoke.
“Shit! Merlin, you scared me” Remus Lupin himself was the face she couldn’t see, what a shame she thought, he has a gorgeous face.
“I know I’m not the best looking sleeper, but I don’t think I can get scary” her lame joke earned a small laugh from him. Worth it.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that” his voice was raspy, she figured it was from sleeping. “What are you doing here anyways? Why are we sleeping on the couch?”
“Could ask the same thing” She replied, “The girls are giving me hell, I have no idea how I can keep up with ‘em all year, what about you?”
He gave her a smile, the one that makes his dimples noticeable and the scar on his nose widen, the one that makes girls like her swoon at the sight of it, the one that he usually keeps hidden, the one that he secretly reserves for her.
“Same thing, the boys are incredibly annoying, god knows I’ve put up with them for five whole years, I need a break, plus, James’s room is way too cluttered for four guys to be able to sleep in.”
She hummed in response, “sit down, don’t just stand there by the doorway, it’s creepy”
Remus blushed he didn’t even realized that he was standing there so tense, he suddenly felt utterly aware of himself, of his tight pijama pants that were way too short on him, of his old shirt with holes in it that he was way to attached to to throw out, of his tussled hair, of the exposed skin littered with scars, he was in pajamas in front of her. Sure she was too, but she looked great, like always.
"Mmm, you scared the sleepiness out of me... What about an early breakfast?"
Honestly she was still pretty tired, but it has been a while since they could share a moment alone, ever simce they've left hogwarts the whole group has been glued together, it has been hard to have one on one conversations, not that she needed to, but there was something brewing inside of her anytime she talked with Remus alone, they both felt it, she was sure, but neither made the move.
"Sure, I really need a coffee" She said making her way into the kitchen.
"I'm more of a tea kind of guy, but I'll join you with a cup." He tried to make it sound non chalantly, but he really despised coffee, he only drank it when she was around, ever since that time in third year he obliged to grab a cup with her because he lied and told her he loved it to impress her.
Comfortable silence fell upon them as they made coffee, shuffling around the kitchen trying to be quiet, smal huffs and giggles filled the now warm kitchen, y/n couldn't help but smile anytime she looks at him, he was the most beautiful man on earth.
"Wat'cha looking at" He said grinning like a devil.
"You"
"Me? What's so interesting about me?"
"Stop messing with me, Remus, you know." Hopefully her cheeks would not be as red as they felt.
"Know what?." he was getting cheeky, she diverted her eyes from his face, suddenly the cup of coffee was the most intersting thng in the world.
"C'mon, look at me," He said as he tilted her chin upwards to look at him. Merlin he was tall. "Don't get shy on me all of a sudden, What's wrong?"
"Why don't you have a girlfriend?" it was a stupid question, she hoped that the answer was what she wanted, still, weird thing to ask.
He laughed "What? Why? Why do you care?"
"I asked first, like, really, how come the cutest guy in all of hogwarts is still single?"
because all I've ever wanted was you, he wanted to yell.
"I don't know, I don't really care for it" he lied, "Why don't you have a boyfriend, I've heard about guys interested in you" he tried to play his bitterness for friendly banter, he wasn't sure it worked.
She hummed "Well none of them are my type, y'know"
She looked at him in a way that would've made Remus's knees buckle it he wasn't standing against the kitchen island.
"Well whats your type?" Sudden braveness.
"Well, there's this guy and he's exactly my type" she said in a such a dreamy way that made Remus want to die, jealousy filled his chest.
"yeah, he's so dreamy, and cute and pretty" she liked the way that made him mad, he's the smartest person she knows, but he's stil just a boy, a very dense one at that. "he loves to wears old wooly sweaters, he loves fantasy and children books but pretends to only read philosophy to seem more nuanced" she looked into his eyes and held his hands, he squeezed them. "He loves tea, but he pretends to like coffee to impress the girl he likes" she laughed as her hands moved from his hands to his chest and finally to his neck.
He put his shaky hand on her hips, "Kiss me"he pleaded. She happily obliged.
Her heart skipped a thousand beats and she was sure she passed out for a second. It was perfection, the way his hand squeezed her waist as he deepens the kiss, how he hummed in her mouth when she tugged at his sandy curls, hours could've gone by, they wouldn't have cared.
Sadly they had to breathe so she broke the kiss, nose to nose and holding each other, they locked eyes as they fall into a fit of laughter.
"Okay.... so... we're on the same page, I think" she said as the laughter broke down.
"Yeah, I think we are" he grabbed her hand. Y/n yawned "Oh Merlin, what time is it?"
The clock signals:
07:38 AM
"Still pretty early to be up" he says, the coffee long forgotten.
"Mmm, want to cuddle and make out in the couch 'til the others wake up" she said hugging his side.
"I'd like that very much" he said pulling her out of the kitchen and into the living room couch.
10:05 AM
"OH MERLIN MY EYES!!!" A familiar voice woke them up. "JAMES! MOONY AND Y/N HAVE DEFILED YOUR COUCH!"
"Don't be stupid, Sirius, you woke them up" Lily's nagging followed.
Y/n had made no attemp to get up, to hell with them, she was comfortable, her arms around Remus's neck and his around her waist, theur legs tangled with each other's, slowly morphing into one.
"My Lilyflower's right, pads" James said. "Let them sleep, god knows it's been long enough with the yearning and the crushes and the longing glances. And they're way too much of cowards to do anything in some else's place, our Moony is a proper glenteman."
Remus flushed,but tried to keep quiet, he didn't care their mates were mocking them, all he cared about was his girl and his girl was cuddled up against him.
With a last kiss (momentarily), they dozed off again.
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Text
Secrets
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pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader
summary: your boyfriend has been gone a lot lately. and you know he’s keeping secrets from you, you just don’t know what, until it’s too late.
warnings: toxicity, obsession, yandere, manipulation, implied murder, stalking, , kidnapping, psychotic behavior, ethan being delusional, drugging, possessiveness, toxic relationship, naïve!reader etc…
one of my darker fics, hope you enjoy!
You probably should go to bed as it was Midnight and you stayed awake in your bed, staring at the ceiling. But you just couldn’t. You were thinking of your boyfriend. You missed him so much. Mostly because you really didn't spend much time together lately.
He had usually been busy, you didn't feel insecure, you definifely trusted him, but you knew he was hiding something. Something malicious.
You toss and turn, struggling to sleep. then your phone beeps. Someone messaged you. Probobly your friends about Ghostface, who returned.
You probably should've stayed with your friends tonight. However, Living on your own was easy. But you hoped you would eventually become serious enough with Ethan that you'd move in together.
You sigh, getting up and going in your kitchen, making yourself hot cocoa, sipping your drink when you stand by your counter. "So good, You moaned, getting marshmallow on your face.
Hopefully drinking this would make you more tired. Or, forget about your boyfriend for now so you could sleep. Even if in your mind You doubted if he really loved you. Okay, you really were insecure. But not if he was cheating on you, just whether or not he really loved you.
You finish your drink. Your place was dark with no lights on. Weirdly, this comforted you more than terrifying you. "Fuck it, I need sleep, You cuss, going in your room. You had University tomorrow.
Luckily, No exams for some time. But still. Sleep would benefit you. So you hop right back in bed, closing your door. Because you were sure someone was stalking you. You check your messages. You should've responded earlier since they were from Ethan.
I'm sorry for not spending much time with you, Y/n, Studies have been bothering me. I promise I'll make it up to you.
Hey, No worries, I completely understand. I love you.
You quickly turn your phone off for some sleep. Somehow, You do fall asleep. But wake up early anyway. 3 AM. You get up, before feeling like someone was in your apartment.
You hoped the person would be your friends or Ethan. "Um, is someone here? You murmur. You tried hiding your fear well. Which you were until someone wraps their arms around your waist. You yelp.
"Relax, Y/N, A familiar voice said. You sigh of relief. "Ethan." "Mhm, He replied."I feel bad for not spending some time with you." Something ringed in your mind. You never told him where you lived.
"Hold on... You said, stepping back from him." I didn't ever share my address." "Chad told me, Ethan chuckled nervously. You believed him. "Fucking Chad."
It sounded weird you never told your own boyfriend where you lived, but you knew Chad longer. Plus, You planned on telling him where you lived when you became more serious, in case you planned on hanging out anywhere but his place.
"Yeah, He said. You didn't see how he looked. You didn't know how sinister he really was. You hug him."I seriously missed you. But I assumed you were busy."
"I finished my homework and other things, He explained. You nod." Okay, well, I'll turn the lights on." "It's okay, I'm leaving anyway, Ethan replies.
You nod. "Well, I love you." "I love you too, Ethan responded, quickly kissing you before leaving. You had no clue on what would eventually happen.
When you were up and ready, You left your apartment, meeting up with your friends before school. "hey, what happened? You ask, seeing sadness on everyone's faces.
"Anika died, Mindy frowned."I believe your boyfriend killed her." "For the last time, I was at Econ! Ethan defended himself. You looked confused, but said nothing. Perhaps he was there before he came to see you.
“Mhm, Mindy said, not believing him at all. “I believe you, You assure your boyfriend though deep down you didn’t believe him either. Not entirely anyways. But you felt bad.
You should trust your boyfriend, he’d never lie or keep secrets from you. He smiles. "Thanks, Y/n." You nodded, placing your hand over his.
Your warm gesture made him feel better. Mostly you, knowing he would never hide anything from you. You stayed with your friends so you could comfort them. Especially since Mindy lost her girlfriend.
"I'm so sorry, Mindy, You say, hugging her. "She shouldfve lived, Mindy frowned. "No offense, Y/N, but Ethan is suspicious." "I understand, You softly smile.
Mindy shyly smiles. You were beginning to suspect your own boyfriend too. You felt awful for accusing Ethan, but circumstances proved otherwise.
"You should sleep over here tonight, Tara suggests. You nodded. You received a message from Ethan, you asked him where he had gone. Mindy looked over your shoulder, "You're really believing his lies?"
"Huh? What do you mean? You say. Mindy rolled her eyes. "He is obviously Ghostface. Obviously manipulating you." "Mindy, We don't know for sure, Chad defended Ethan.
You frown, rethinking everything. Was he really manipulating you? Mindy was clever enough, so you did believe her words. "I... she could be right, You blurted. Everyone looked at you in shock.
"Y/n! Tara said. "You seriously believe Mindy?" "Yeah, because I'm not wrong, Mindy said, grief consuming her. "Look, Evidence is there. think about it." Everyone stopped speaking, thinking things over, including you.
Guilt eating you up inside. But your logical side was telling you to run, convincing you Mindy was right. You couldn't convince yourself your own boyfriend is innocent. any evidence Mindy had was pure circumstantial.
Still, You loved Ethan. You couldn't believe he would ever kill anybody. He was so sweet. Even if he recently had been distant, which didn't mean he was guilty by any means.
But he did make you suspicious. You noticed how he was still gone. What was Ethan doing? You spammed messages, which sounded clingy, but you were worried, plus suspicious.
Finally, He messaged you. He didn't seem bothered by your spam, in fact, maybe happy you spammed him. He was on his way from wherever. Still didn't specify.
“I got here as soon as I could! Ethan exclaimed. Mindy eyed him suspiciously since he was her number one suspect.
“Don’t do shit, Mindy, Chad warned. “I’m so sorry, I just had so much to do, Ethan said, wrapping his arms around your waist affectionately.
“Ah yes, under purely coincidental circumstances you finally show up, Mindy said sarcastically. Ethan frowned.”I swear. I’ve just been focusing on actually passing in College.”
“I believe you, You assure him. "And you should too, Mindy. speaking of which, can I speak to you in private?” Mindy nods. You escape your boyfriend’s grip as he gives you an understanding look.
You pull her aside.”I… believe you, Mindy.” “Shit, really? She said.”I told you he’s suspicious. I wouldn’t be completely off guard around him.”
“I know, it’s just he’s keeping many secrets lately and I think being the killer is one of them, you whisper. You felt relieved you could confide in someone who shared your suspicions.
Mindy sighed."And you just ignored the red flags?" "Um, I guess so, You reply. She frowned. "You must really love him." You nodded, kind of embarrassed for being so dumb.
"I understand but you should distance yourself for now, Mindy suggests. You nodded. In case he was a killer, who planned on killing you.
You did feel remorse when he looked pretty sad but you knew, you couldn't be around him. For your safety. You had never been scared of him before, but everything had been odd. If he didn't keep secrets from you, You wouldn't be suspicious.
"Y/n, Could I please talk to you? Ethan asked, knowing Mindy was no longer by your side. "Fine, You reply, more sympathy in your voice than you hoped.
"Look, You seem so suspicious and paranoid, He begins. "and I'm sorry I've been distant. I promise, I'm not keeping anything from you. I love you, why would I purposefully hurt you?"
You rethink everything. If you weren't so naïve and blinded by your love for him, You would've refused to believe him. But you couldn't hold back much. You hug him. "I believe you. I'm sorry... for being suspicious."
He smiles."I forgive you." You would quickly regret believing him later on. You did sleep over but in the morning, You were comfortable enough you could go home.
You shouldn't have walked by yourself, but you did. However, You could feel yourself being followed. Someone was definitely stalking you.
"Maybe I'm just paranoid, You murmur nervously. But the loud footsteps behind you proved your worries. But when they grew closer, You sped walked, not running when you didn't know for sure. You were so close.
Suddenly, You stopped. You could keep on walking, or take the short cut through the alley where your place was. However, You couldn't even choose because something hit your neck, like a needle, and you blacked out.
When You woke up, You tried moving but your wrists were bound. You squirmed. "Keep trying, You won't move, Someone spoke. You quickly were filled with dread when you recognized the voice.
"No, You whimper, before he comes into view. Your own boyfriend, Ethan kidnapped you. In one hand, held his knife, his other hand holding his mask.
"You were Ghostface, You said, looking down. His knife had blood on it. Which could only mean he murdered more people. His wide grin said everything you needed to know. He enjoyed killing people. "For us, Y/N, He replies.
You quickly remembered when he broke into your apartment. You believed him, but now you realized he didn't want you to see him in the Ghostface Costume. He had been following you, hence why he knew where you lived.
"For us? You repeat. He nods, caressing your face."I did this all for us, for you." You wished he was being truthful. But you could see right through his manipulative ways. Well, You tried to.
"You're all mine, I'll kill anyone who touches you."
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eyesthatroll · 1 year
Text
five more minutes | luke hughes
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pairing; lh43 x fem!reader
warning(s); none really, fluff i guess, kinda edited not really
word count; 0.5k (blurb?)
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yawning, you peeled your eyes open, squinting at the sunlight that seeped through the open black curtain.
glancing to your left, you reach out and grab your phone from the bedside table.
5:04 am.
luke's head rests on your lower stomach, his legs twisted around yours under the white duvet.
you were hot, thirsty, and needed to get out of your sweat ridden night clothes. it was the dead of summer, and your ac was broken, again.
you try move to your left, hoping you can slide out from under luke without him waking up, but the moment you move, he's pulling you closer to him.
huffing to yourself, you untangle your legs from his, and attempt to roll him over.
"what're you doing?" he murmurs, wrapping his legs around yours again.
"need to get up." you groan.
"what time is it?" his voice is breaking, raspy from sleep, and lack of water this morning.
"five."
"it's early, don't get up." he begs.
"lu, it's too hot. i feel disgusting."
luke twists his head to look up at you, tired eyes pleading you to give in. he uses his feet to kick of the duvet, leaving just you and him on top of the sheet. "better?"
you shake your head. "you're hot luke, i need you to get off me."
"just five more minutes."
"luke, i'm serious."
"please, baby."
you let out an exasperated sigh, your head leaning back into the pillow in frustration. "five minutes." you warned.
and it was five minutes, you were counting down the seconds.
"times up, babyboy." you announce, your hand giving a slight tug to his curls.
luke tightens his hold on you, now playing with the drawstring on your skimpy night shorts.
"it hasn't been five minutes." he whines.
"it literally has. i was literally counting." you deadpan.
luke groans. it's almost comical at this point.
"why do you hate me?"
you burst in laughter at his over exaggerated question. "because you're clingy in the mornings, you always eat my good yogurt, you take to long to-"
you're teasing.
"enoughhhhhh!"
"so it was a rhetorical question?"
"i wasn't seriously asking, i was joking. making a joke." the sassiness comes through in his tone.
"so was i." you slide out of his grasp, leaving him limp on your side of the bad. "you should be laughing, because i'm a funny person."
luke hughes was not a morning person, and you just loved to rile him up.
"you're not funny, you're annoying." he huffs.
"my name's not annoying, it's y/n."
luke sends you a dirty look, not appreciating another one of your jokes.
you lean down, and kiss his forehead. you're pulling away, when luke pulls you back down by the shirt.
his lips meet yours in quick fashion, morning breath forgotten. you feel his teeth graze your bottom lip, an attempt to open you up, but you pull away, pushing him on the forehead with your palm.
he falls back to the pillow, his lips formed into a pout.
"'i'm gonna shower. will you be up when i get out, or are you going back to sleep?"
luke gives you a pointed look, as if you didn't already know the answer. "close the blinds on the way out, please."
/end
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mari speaks! not much to say about this one, i'm sure it could use a few more details here and there, but it's 4am and i'm tired of looking at it. hopefully it's not too terrible. also, random, but i just bought a qh43 funk pop! didn't even know they made those, (and it was so cheap!! 15$ waaa??) anyways, that's it.
951 notes · View notes
footballfanficwriter · 4 months
Text
Late night cravings
Summary:where the reader is craving  and she wakes Jude up to her her food
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A/n: I am well aware of the war that is happening between Israel and Palestine and I just want to say I support Palestine, but I want to let you know that before reading this there will be mentions of companies that are owed by Israel so consider this a warning when reading also the timeline of these events are before the war or the war is nonexistent and is not taking place
__________________________________________
It's 3 in the morning and I'm tossing and turning in bed, I turn to my left and find Jude is fast asleep, how can he be asleep, how can he fall asleep so easily
I sigh, giving up on finding a comfortable position and just lying on my back, my pregnancy bump just slightly peeking out in my line of vision, I stare at the ceiling for a while and think about how life is going to be in a few months, having babies and a  being mother, and in a few years being referred to as mom, the new responsibilities I'll have, I can't lie I'm terrified, I mean you see all these cases of mother's mental health decrease and how they have post partum depression after giving birth, what If I became like that and start hating my babies because of their existence, and those poor children won't understand a thing that is happening, just that their mother doesn't want them, or what if I just get depressed, and the need to do anything just disappears, I mean I can't afford to be depressed, it's going to affect the babies especially when I'll be breastfeeding and all
I sigh again and try not to look at the negative side of the situation, Jude said I should always call him or wake him up whenever I feel like this so he can reassure me and make me feel like everything is going to be ok, but I don't want to bother him, especially when it's so late, he's already got a lot on his plate, I continue staring at the ceiling just tapping on my belly for a while, and that seems to have woken my unborn children because they start kicking, it must be a party in there
"Ok guys go back to bed, it's too early for you guys to be awake" I whisper
I sigh for the 3rd time knowing it won't work
All of a sudden I feel the urge to eat like I haven't eaten in a while, I'm craving McDonald's,  KFC, and oddly enough something sweet, I don't know what but I'm craving something sweet
I try to ignore my hunger but I can't , I use my arms and hands to make me sit up and turn my head towards Jude then sigh again
"Jude"
"Babe"
"Jude wake up"
He wakes up and looks at me with tired eyes
I instantly regret waking him up the minute I see his eyes
"It's ok honey go back to bed"
"No, what is it, what do you need me to do"
"No, it's alright, it's not important anyway"
"Well, it must be if you woke me up at 3:30 in the morning"
"No it's not, go back to sleep, I'm sorry for waking you up"
"You know I'm not going back to sleep if you're not going to tell me what's wrong" he says
We sit in silence for about 5 minutes
"I'm hungry" I say
"Ok" he says getting out of bed finding his pants and putting them, then his socks followed by his shoes and a black hoodie, he then grabs his phone and opens it
"What do you need" he asks
"No, come back to bed, you don't need to do anything"
"Honey I'm already out of bed, you might aswell tell me"
"Ok, I want two big mac's from McDonald's, hot wings from KFC 24 pieces, a medium sized pizza with cheese, chicken pepperoni, apple juice, and something sweet, I don't know what but I want something sweet"
"Is that all?"
I nod and he says
"Ok, I'll be back soon"
He slightly climbs over the bed and kisses my forehead
"Don't feel bad love, I don't mind going out to get you food"
"You sure?"
"Definitely"
He leaves the room and walks downstairs, opens the front door and he's out
It's only after an hour when I hear the front door open again indicating that Jude is home, I hear him come up the stairs, walk down the passage and the door to our room opens
I see him holding take out and he walks over to me and places everything on the bed
"Ok, so I got everything you asked me for but I didn't know what type of sweet thing you wanted so I got you your favorite sweets/candy and your favorite cake, is it too much?
"No no honey it's perfect"
"You sure?"
"Mhm"
"Ok"
"Thank you"
"You're welcome"
He takes his shoes off and goes to his closet to put them away, he comes back and sits on the bed while I start eating my food in silence
I then turn to him and see him lying on his back with his eyes, I place one of the big mac's on his lap and he looks at me
"What are you doing?" He asks
"Have something to eat"
"No it's fine babe go ahead besides you're eating for 3"
"Yes but you still need to eat"
He sighs and takes the burger from his lap and we eat in silence
"You know, we still haven't come up with any baby names" I say
"Babe we'll name them when they arrive"
"We can't name them when they arrive who do you think we are kylie Jenner?"
He laughs at my comment
"Their names have to have Js though" he says
"No"
"Their names will be different but similar"
"Like?"
"What about Ella and Alex?"
"Or Beatrice And Brandon"
"Beatrice?"
"Yeah"
"That's an old lady's name"
"Madison and Mason"
"No, I'm not really feeling it
"What about Brian and Brianna"
"Ok we'll put that in the idea box, it's not bad"
"Really?"
"Yeah, what about Cara and Carter"
"Hmm, Cara and Carter Bellingham"
"Brian and Brianna Bellingham"
"O I like it"
"I know"
"Ok but on a serious note we need to discuss how we're going to raise these kids Jude"
"What do u mean?"
"Ways of discipline, what if they do something we won't approve of how would we react, what if they come out and they're part of the LGBTQ, what then what?"
"Ok, ways of discipline?"
"Yeah, we need to think about those"
"Simple we'll just beat them"
"I'm not hitting my children"
"Fine, then I'll do it"
"Jude"
"I'm joking, we can take away the things the love, like toys ban them from going to friends, you know all the soft stuff"
"Ok what about the age they can Start dating, and being in relationships?"
"Brian can date when he's 13 but Brianna is dating when she's 28"
"That's insane, we going to treat our kids equally, we can't discriminate because of their genders"
"Fine, both at 13 then" he says rolling his eyes at me
"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" I ask
"yeah why, you wanna pull a Christian Grey on me"
"The fact that you can make that reference"
"Yeah, I can"
"Jude we're supposed to be talking about our Future and the Future of our kids"
"Ok, ok sorry"
"Then the LGBTQ thing"
"We disown them immediately" he says in a dramatic way
"Well it won't make me happy either but I guess we'll live with it, they are our children at the end of the day"
"Yeah"
"And the involvement of our parents in their lives, what boundaries need to be set"
"They need to be present that's for sure, buy them gifts and spoil them rotten, I just want them to make a strong connection and bond"
"Yeah that's for sure"
"What about sleep schedules"
"For us or for them?"
"For us"
"We'll take turns"
"One day it's my turn to stay the night with them, then then the next it's your turn, but if it's the both of them being fussy then we can both be awake, and rotate each twin  by the hour"
"What methods should we use If they don't want to sleep?"
"Music, white noises I heard that's good and relaxation for when you're trying to sleep so we'll use that or classical music it's up to them really
"And their sleep schedules?"
"20:00, that's their bed Time, everything must be done before that"
"And sports , that they'll play"
"You already know the answer to that question, I don't even know why you're asking that"
He laughs and I smile at him
"Social media for them?"
"Well considering who their dad is we need them to use other names, and they must be private accounts"
"At what age?"
"14 is when it can happen"
"So social media and phones at 14?"
"Yeah"
"And a trust fund?"
"Most definitely having that, we never know when things go South"
"Ok"
"And I think we should go for Therapy"
"Why, our marriage is not on the rocks"
"I know but I want us to strengthen our relationship and relate to eachother better, you might have things that I do that you don't like and things you do that I don't like, we were very young when we met, and they say time changes people we aren't the same people we were when we met"
"Fine, we'll go"
"And this will strengthen our marriage as well so it's a plus"
"Ok love, anything that makes you feel comfortable"
"Thank you"
"You know I'm glad we're doing this"
"Yeah same"
"That way if any problem is thrown at us we'll be prepared for it"
"True"
He leans in for a kiss and I do the same, I'm about to attach our lips when I feel something coming up my throat
Puke
I quickly open my eyes and run to the bathroom
"Oh wow if I disgust you so much then why'd you marry me"
"Jude"
"No really answer the question"
"It's the sight of your face, it makes me sick
"Very funny"
"It's not a joke" I say brushing my teeth
"Do you wanna cuddle"
"Yeah"
"C'mon then"
I walk towards him and lay my head on his chest and he plays his hand on my belly
"We've got footballers brewing in there"
"Jude, if they choose that they don't want to be footballers then please don't force them or make them feel bad about it or even force them, I want them to make their own decisions
"Fine, but I will be disappointed though"
"Understandable"
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mamani-bento · 5 months
Text
five more minutes (kento nanami)
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(idk which ep this gif is from. it probably doesn't exist. collective hallucination.)
nanami x reader, 1.8k words, sequel to i'm glad you're back, gender not mentioned
'not accepting that it's time to start the day, and pinning them onto the mattress with either your whole body, a leg, or more risque touches.' from this prompt list, established relationship, fluff + comfort + one (1) innuendo
the first few days, you had needed his support just getting into the shower. then, you started being able to walk around on your own, but only indoors and not for too long. if it were up to you, if your body followed the same admittedly delusory rate of recovery that you desperately want it to, you'd be back at the school by now. the mismatch between your expectations and reality is making you caustic, biting, like a barbed wire. you don't realise that you're scowling until nanami gives your hand a mild squeeze and asks, "what hurts?"
i wasn't going to write a sequel to igyb but i saw the prompt and this happened anyway love u nanami who is safe and sound and very much so alive idk what you guys keep talking about stuff and nonsense fr
mamani-bento's masterlist!
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"what are you doing?"
you instantly freeze, nanami's sleepy question behind your back stopping you in your tracks.
"oh, am i not allowed to use the washroom now?"
there's more bite in your voice than you intend, too much bitterness for this early in the morning, but you think you might very well lose it if you don't get out of bed. still, you gingerly shift until you can face him to offer a mumbled apology for the undeserved harshness.
he looks mostly unfazed, only sitting up to lean against the headboard with a barely-there frown. the blanket shifts until it's settled at his waist, broad shoulders filling out his black t-shirt and golden hair sleep-mussed. he silently raises an eyebrow at you and you sigh, knowing the game is up.
with a pained groan that you unsuccessfully try to mask, you lift your legs to place them back on the mattress, using as few motions as possible to imitate his position. the exertion leaves you tired, and it takes a few moments to catch your breath, your left side twinging in a now-familiar pain.
nanami doesn't say anything. just watches you in poorly-hidden concern as you grumble unintelligibly in annoyance. it's all very angrily-muttering-bitter-old-man of you, but your churlishness can’t be helped.
the sun is just coming up, and soft orange light pools in through the thin curtains, bathing the room in a glow that you desperately wish you could appreciate.
you warily attempt to adjust your posture, pillows placed weird and making your body twinge uncomfortably. in a smooth motion, nanami gently winds an arm around your shoulder, mindful of the still-healing cut, and slowly props you upright while making the necessary adjustments against the headboard.
you huff out a half-relieved half-annoyed 'thank you' as you settle, but you don't let his arm fully leave your person, interlacing your fingers before he can pull away. his palms are warm in your cold ones, and the interlocked unit is a comforting weight atop your thigh.
you should say something.
it's been two weeks since you came back, and you're so sick and tired of being in bandages and unable to take ten steps without needing a break, and you should tell him this.
the first few days, you had needed his support just getting into the shower. then, you started being able to walk around on your own, but only indoors and not for too long. if it were up to you, if your body followed the same admittedly delusory rate of recovery that you desperately want it to, you'd be back at the school by now. the mismatch between your expectations and reality is making you caustic, biting, like a barbed wire.
you don't realise that you're scowling until nanami gives your hand a mild squeeze and asks, "what hurts?"
"fucking everything. everything hurts! i'm so sick of everything hurting, all the damn time."
your angry outburst ends in a near-whine that leaves you cringing. you want to punch something, but you'll probably just break another bone if you try.
nanami only shuffles closer until his shoulder is lightly pressed against yours, a silent show of understanding and support as he lifts your intertwined hands to place a kiss on your knuckle. he hums as he wraps his other large palm over them, enclosing your hand in a consoling warmth.
you feel his lips against the side of your head, lingering as soft puffs from slow breaths make your hair stir. he's so solid, and he's been so lovely the entire time despite bearing witness to your recent crotchety behaviour.
the room settles into a silent stillness again. the sun's making good time, brightening it even more.
"i hate–" you start. you impatiently stop, interrupting yourself to breathe in deeply and sound less like you're complaining to the man who's been nothing but kind to you.
nanami hums in encouragement, making space for you to rant. you feel the rumble of the sound in your chest, calming you down and making you feel less like snapping at somebody.
"i hate being stuck like this. i hate being in pain every time i try to lift my arms or stand for too long. and i know i need to give it time, but i'm just...really fucking impatient, i guess," you end with a shrug, body deflating into his side at the admission.
nanami's silent for a second. then, voice soft, he says, "go on."
"what?"
"let it all out. god knows it's been building up for a while."
he's looking at you with such understanding, and again, you're hit by a wave of guilt for how you've been acting.
"are you sure? you don't want to go back to sleep?"
he takes his time to reply. he slowly unlatches your hands. then he gently nudges you to lie on your back, helping you slide down the mattress until your head is on the pillow. he mirrors you, his long body shuffling until he's facing your frame and pulling the duvet over you both.
at first, you think he's compromising by making you both go back to sleep, which you're fine with, honestly. you'll admit you could do with another few hours.
he curls a palm over your middle, guiding you to lie on your side in a practiced motion. methodically, he adjusts the pillow for your thigh, makes sure the blanket isn't caught in the bandage in your shoulder, fixes you up until you're comfortable. his palm settles solid against the skin of your hip under your t-shirt, just below where the bandage ends, and he fixes you with a firm look.
"go on," he simply repeats.
and you could die at his consideration, at his care, at the affection he's giving you, all hallmarks of his behaviour but particularly evident in the last two weeks. and then you could die some more at how disgruntled you've been in reaction to his consideration, care, affection.
sunlight is abundant in the room now, throwing the sharp planes of nanami's face into stark relief, lightening the colour of his eyes, making his hair look like messy straw. you reach a single hand out, finger extended to trace the path your eyes are taking. he continues to patiently watch you, wordlessly allows your touch to rove over him until it comes to settle on the tip of his nose, right above where a small smile is playing on his lips. you want to keep him in place, in this place where he’s calmly indulgent, and unable to help yourself, you curve your hand around the side of his neck so the tips of your fingers brush against his undercut. the extra stretch makes your shoulder twinge in protest, but you let the pain sit until you get used to it.
"i haven't been very good company lately, have i?"
it comes out more as a statement than a question, a rhetoric followed by a mirthless laugh that carries all your loathing.
"you have a broken rib."
"yes, but–"
"and a basically shredded shoulder."
"i know–"
"and a very firm order to not exert yourself for three weeks."
"kento, i get it–"
again, he interrupts you. "do you really? does any of what i just said sound easy to deal with?"
you don't reply, huffing in consternation at how much sense he's making. he must see your expression falling because his manner softens further, nudging your body closer to his as tenderly as he can. his palm is warm and solid on the small of your back.
"i'd be concerned if you were in a good mood, darling. i don't expect you to be positive about any of this."
the brightness of the room now shines like a hallowed light on the man in front of you, and you feel seconds away from being blinded, millimetres away from being burnt.
"will you at least let me know when i'm being terrible to you?"
"absolutely not. you have earned every right to be terrible."
"kento."
his smile grows into something tangible, and you wish he wouldn't tease like this. wish he wouldn’t give you rational and sensible reasons that justify your bad mood, would just let you beat yourself up and stew in self-loathing. already, despite your efforts, you feel better. 
"let's hold on for one more week, alright? then we can try walking till the end of the street."
you let out a strangled groan, already dreading the continued incapacitation. but nanami's pulling you closer now, until you're carefully tucked under his chin and your breath is fanning across his neck.
"one more week," you tiredly mumble, lips brushing against his skin. "how am i supposed to stay in bed and not be a complete terror to you for one more week?"
“we’ll figure it out. keep you active so you don’t get bored.”
you lightly nip at his jugular, so conveniently accessible this way. there’s no ulterior motive–your limbs won’t allow it–but you still feel a thrill of delight at nanami’s fingers briefly pressing into your back just a little bit, pads of his digits momentarily divoting your skin.
his amusement is evident as he replies, “not that kind of active.”
your feigned disappointed sigh yields a low chuckle, huffed breath puffing over your hair. “not allowed to touch grass, not allowed to touch you. what am i actually allowed to do?”
“you can help with the case files that gojo dropped off yesterday,” he replies, slowly making to pull away.
instantly, instinctively, you’re tightening your grip on the back of his neck, unwilling to surface. the sudden motion makes you flinch and let out a soft hiss of discomfort.
nanami immediately goes stock-still. the room is silent in a nervous pause. you breathe through the pain, letting it ebb. as your body relaxes again, two simultaneously relieved sighs emerge.
“good?”
you nod in reply, glad that he’s no longer trying to leave the bed and moving closer to you instead. a large palm soothingly rubs your back.
“five more minutes,” you softly say.
“five more minutes,” nanami easily agrees. out of the corner of your eye, you can see that it’s fully bright now. you need to eat and take your medicines, need to get your wounds cleaned and wrapped again, apparently need to do gojo’s paper work despite the fact that you desperately wish you were back in the field. but you’ve got five more minutes before all that, five more minutes to catch up to the newness of this emotional tranquility, least bitter you’ve felt in two weeks. five more minutes, and then one more week.
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pinchofhoney · 7 months
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Omg Dean Winchester x Reader (platonic) where Dean and Sam are on a hunt and maybe reader was kidnapped??? And when they save her, she just immediately gets attached to Dean? Like she can't leave his side and at first he's really annoyed but eventually gets used to it?
(Sorry for all of my platonic requests I just don't see enough of them 😅)
frozen fear
dean winchester x fem!reader
word count: 2.9k
warning: platonic relationship, mild swearing, one description may be disturbing to some readers, comfort
summary: Life has a way of humbling even the bravest, and it's not always a gentle lesson.
a/n: hello!! thank you so much for your request! i had a lot of fun working on it; while planning the plot i felt the same feeling i had when writing my little fiction stories before my disappearance and honestly i missed it a lot!! but, in the middle of writing, i realized that it escaped my attention that you wanted it to be just sam with dean on the hunt, so unfortunately the text i wrote will be a little different from your request:(( i'm so sorry, i hope you enjoy the story anyway!
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @alexxavicry @one-sweet-gubler @lonelywitchv2
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gif is not mine, credit to @/justjensenanddean
You shifted onto your back, letting your tired eyes wander across the shadowy ceiling. The wall clock's relentless ticking concealed the time, but you were certain that sleep should have already claimed you by now. Resting in one of the motel's less-than-cozy beds, nestled near Telluride, Colorado, the room's silence was intermittently shattered by Dean's unrelenting snoring, which was pushing you to the brink of madness.
With a soft sigh, you raised yourself into a seated position, your hands cradling your tired face, a silent battle raging within you to resist the urge to suffocate Dean with a pillow. Your gaze darted to the sleeping Sam, then settled on Dean's back as he lay on his side.
You arrived in town alongside the Winchester brothers, ready to tackle a puzzling string of mountain disappearances. The circumstances surrounding the case remained a mystery to you, with the root cause still shrouded in uncertainty. Although you had your suspicions, you knew there was plenty of work ahead, and the prospect of a sleepless night didn't exactly lift your spirits.
You arched your head back, returning your gaze to the ceiling as another sigh escaped your lips. At last, you shifted your legs over the edge of the bed, rising to your feet. Your hand reached for one of the brothers' jackets, and with a simple motion, you exited the room. You hoped that a quick walk in the cold, fresh night air could make you sleepy. Maybe the wind will whip me into such a state that I'll lose my hearing and finally drift off to sleep, you thought slightly amused, looking for positives in this pathetic situation.
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The sun's faint morning rays began to seep through the curtains of the dimly lit motel room. Sam stirred in his bed, his sleep-laden eyes blinking open as he noticed the absence of a familiar presence beside him. He frowned and turned his head, only to find an empty bed where you had been resting just hours before.
Sam sat up abruptly, his heart racing as he scanned the room. Dean, who had been sprawled out in another bed, all this time snoring softly, was now roused by Sam's sudden movement. He blinked blearily, struggling to comprehend the situation.
“Dean!” Sam hissed urgently, his voice tinged with alarm. “Wake up! Y/N's gone!”
Dean sat up sluggishly, not entirely comprehending the commotion. As far as he was concerned, there was no need for alarm. Nobody had forcefully confined you to the room, so it seemed obvious to him that you had simply risen early for a morning stroll.
“Sam, relax,” Dean muttered, not quite grasping the gravity of the situation yet. “Y/N probably stepped out for breakfast or something. She'll be back.”
But as Sam's gaze darted around the room, he noticed something that heightened his unease. “Dean,” he said, his voice tinged with increasing concern, pointing at the empty hook where Dean's jacket should have been hanging.
Dean finally started to stir fully awake, glancing at the vacant hook, and then back at Sam. “Okay, so maybe Y/N took my jacket too. It's not a big deal.”
As Dean spoke, Sam's eyes fell upon something on the nightstand. It was your phone, usually never left behind. He grabbed it and held it up for Dean to see. “Dean, Y/N's phone is here,” Sam said with a sense of growing concern. “She wouldn't have gone anywhere without it.”
Dean's eyebrows furrowed as the realization set in. The absence of both you and your phone suddenly felt more ominous. “Alright, let's not jump to conclusions,” he said, though the unease in his voice was palpable. “We'll wait a little longer, but if she doesn't come back soon, we need to check things out and see if there's anything else strange going on.”
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
The rhythmic ticking of the wall clock served as a relentless reminder of time slipping away
Dean fought to keep his emotions in check, methodically going about his morning routine, from toothbrush to getting dressed. His emotions were simmering beneath the surface, but he was determined not to let them get the best of him.
Meanwhile, Sam perched at the table, your mobile phone resting prominently before him. His gaze remained fixed on the device, a glimmer of hope that you might soon breeze through the room door, bearing coffee and a bagel, filling the space with your familiar presence.
“It's a quarter past eight already,” Sam remarked, his eyes shifting to his brother. He leaned on the table, his fingers anxiously toying with the first signs of stubble on his chin. “We have no idea when she left,” he added with a touch of frustration.
Dean pondered the situation briefly, meeting Sam's gaze before letting out an exasperated huff. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, his annoyance clear in his expression and tone.
The mounting tension in the room finally propelled the brothers into action. Dean grabbed his flannel shirt, throwing it on, and Sam slipped your phone into his pocket before they headed toward the motel room door.
“We’ve got to figure out what’s going on,” Sam declared, his voice determined.
Dean nodded in agreement, his jaw set. “I swear I'm gonna fucking kill her if she's just making fun of us.”
As they prepared to leave, Sam hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He glanced back at the room, a glimmer of hope still flickering in his eyes. “Let's leave the door unlocked,” he said quietly, as much to reassure himself as Dean. “Just in case Y/N comes back.”
With that, they stepped out into the brisk morning, making quick strides in the direction of the parked Impala.
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You slowly regained consciousness, a disorienting haze clouding your senses. Your body ached with a piercing pain, and a strange, unpleasant feeling gnawed at you. Panic coursed through your veins as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.
It was pitch black, and you couldn't see a thing. The air was thick with a noxious stench that seemed to cling to your very skin. Your head throbbed with a dull ache, and you groaned, attempting to move, only to realize that your limbs were bound, and you couldn't feel solid ground beneath you.
Panic turned to terror as your hands met resistance above your head. You strained your neck, struggling to see what lay beyond you. And then, as your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, the horrifying truth revealed itself.
You were hanging from the ceiling, head down, alongside two other lifeless bodies. Their forms dangled grotesquely, and it was clear they had been here for some time, their lifeless eyes staring into nothingness.
The realization hit you like a sledgehammer. You were trapped in a Wendigo's cave, your own fate hanging precariously above you. Your heart pounded, and terror coursed through your veins as you fought to remain as still and silent as possible, praying that the creature responsible for this nightmare wouldn't return anytime soon.
As you pored over the Winchester brothers' father's journal, your suspicions honed in on the Wendigo as the likely culprit behind the recent disappearances. Still, you couldn't help but question the accuracy of your deduction. While it was true that the brothers had successfully hunted down one of these creatures before, encountering a Wendigo in Colorado felt like a rare occurrence, far from their usual hunting grounds.
There was no room for doubt now, but finding yourself on the potential victim list hardly allowed you to relish your accurate suspicions.
Your heart raced in your chest, its thunderous beats resonating in your ears like a drumroll of dread. The blood surged to your face, turning it into a stifling mask of heat and anxiety. What made it all the more unbearable was the uncertainty, not knowing how long you'd been hanging there or when the fiendish creature might return to its lair.
Straining your ears, you listened intently for any hint of the creature's reappearance, but the stifling silence held sway.
Then, a faint yet unmistakable sound reached your ears—a distant shuffle, accompanied by muffled voices. Hope surged within you as you recognized the voices. It was Sam and Dean.
Tears welled up in your eyes as their voices drew nearer, and you struggled to rein in the overwhelming rush of relief and joy. Their flashlights cast wavering beams that danced eerily on the cave walls as they advanced cautiously.
“Y/N?” Sam's voice reverberated through the cave, laced with concern.
You managed a weak response, your voice trembling with emotion. “Here!”
Their flashlights swept over you, illuminating your precarious predicament. A mixture of shock and unwavering determination twisted their faces as they took in the horrifying scene before them.
A wave of relief washed over you like a soothing tide as Sam and Dean hurried to your side. Sam swiftly sized up the situation, his nible fingers skillfully working to free you from your bindings. With each passing moment, the suffocating grip of fear and captivity began to loosen its hold.
Dean, standing guard with unwavering vigilance, maintained a watchful eye on the cave's entrance, ensuring that the Wendigo wouldn't return to catch you in a vulnerable moment. His weapon remained poised and ready
As Sam's efforts finally set you free, you were lowered gently to the cave floor. Weak and disoriented, you clung to him, finding solace in the reassuring presence of your friends amidst the foreboding darkness that had held you captive.
With you safely on the cave floor, Sam turned his attention to your well-being, his concern etched on his face. “Y/N, are you okay? Can you stand?”
You nodded weakly, your voice quivering from a mixture of exhaustion and unease. “I think so.”
In response, Dean allowed himself a small sigh of relief, his furrowed brow smoothing out somewhat. He turned his attention back to you, his worry palpable. “Can you fill us in, Y/N? We all went to bed in the motel room, and now you're hanging in this cave. What the heck happened?”
Balancing yourself with Sam's support, you drew in a steadying breath to calm your frazzled nerves. “I don't know, Dean,” you confessed, your voice laced with a mixture of fear and frustration. “Your snoring was so deafening that I was on the brink of committing a crime. I had to escape the room for some respite, and then... Then I woke up here, like this, with no idea how I ended up in this nightmare.”
The haunting memory of that heart-stopping moment lingered in the air, causing your eyes to brim with tears once more. It was at this very moment that the full weight of the situation began to sink in—what might have befallen you, the chilling possibility of ending up like the lifeless body you had been hanging beside just moments ago.
As you gazed upon the concerned expressions of the men, the urge to reassure them that you were alright welled up within you. You only needed a little time to collect yourself. However, something beyond their shoulders seized your attention with a grip far stronger.
Your eyes widened in sheer terror, and your heart raced, momentarily clouding your thoughts with a hazy fog of panic. It took you a precious moment to summon the words, but finally, your voice found a way past your constricted vocal cords. “D-Dean!” you exclaimed with a raised voice, your trembling finger pointing emphatically toward the gaping maw of the cave entrance.
Your panicked cry pierced the cave's silence, and the Winchester brothers pivoted toward the cave entrance, their expressions shifting from concern to sheer determination.
Before your eyes, the Wendigo emerged from the shadows, its grotesque form illuminated by the flickering light of Sam and Dean's flashlights. The monster snarled, a chilling, otherworldly sound that sent shivers down your spine.
Sam and Dean wasted no time. With a practiced synchronicity born from years of hunting, they unleashed a torrent of fire upon the creature. Flames danced and crackled in the cave's depths, casting unnatural, shifting shadows.
The Wendigo roared in agony as the flames consumed it, its monstrous form writhing in torment. The stench of burning flesh and the creature's wails filled the cave, creating a nightmarish tableau of desperation.
You wanted to do something, to help the Winchesters in some way, but fear paralyzed you. You'd encountered countless demons, monsters, and shapeshifters in the past, but facing this particular breed of creature was an entirely unprecedented experience for you.
As the Wendigo was consumed by the flames, its otherworldly shrieks reached a deafening crescendo before being abruptly silenced. The once-terrifying monster was now nothing more than a pile of smoldering ashes, its threat extinguished by the relentless fire.
Sam and Dean turned to you, their expressions now radiant with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Sam extended a hand toward you, his eyes filled with understanding. “Come on, Y/N, let's get out of here.”
You nodded, your throat still tight with the remnants of fear, and took Sam's hand as he helped you to your feet. Dean followed, his grip firm on your shoulder, offering silent support.
The three of you made your way out of the cave, stepping back into the cool night air of the Colorado woods. The moon cast a pale, comforting glow upon the landscape, a stark contrast to the horrors you had just faced.
As you reached the Impala parked nearby the forest, Dean spoke, his voice tinged with weariness. “We'll head back to the motel, Y/N. You need some rest.”
Sam nodded in agreement as he opened the car door for you. “And a hot shower wouldn't hurt either.”
You climbed into the car, the leather seats offering a welcome comfort. Dean took the driver's seat, and Sam settled in beside you.
The engine roared to life, and as the Impala rumbled down the winding forest road, Sam turned to you with a small, reassuring smile. “You did great back there, Y/N. We've got your back.”
The only source of comfort during this terrible ordeal was Dean's jacket, now worn and stained. It still clung to your shoulders, providing a bit of solace. You folded your arms across your chest, embracing the jacket's familiar warmth as if it was a security blanket. Taking a deep breath, you tried to reassure yourself that the nightmare was over and you were now safe.
Recent events had shattered your belief in your own fearlessness, exposing the simple truth that you had a long way to go before you could match Sam and Dean's hunting prowess. Yet, uncertainty gnawed at you, making you question whether you were truly prepared to reach their level of expertise.
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Weeks drifted by, and the memories of the Wendigo's cave continued to haunt your every waking moment. Anxiety had taken root deep within you, coiling around your thoughts like a relentless serpent. To cope, you found solace in staying as close to Dean Winchester as possible, as if his presence alone could shield you from the lingering horrors.
However, this newfound need for constant presence began to grate on Dean's nerves. He valued his personal space and independence, and your persistent closeness was beginning to wear on him.
One evening, as you shadowed his every move in the bunker, Dean couldn't help but voice his frustration. “Y/N,” he began, his tone laced with irritation, “I appreciate you being cautious, but you don't have to be glued to my side every second.”
Your eyes widened, and you stammered a response, “I-I'm just trying to be safe, Dean. You know, in case something happens again.”
Dean sighed, his irritation softening into understanding as he looked at you. He leaned in closer, his voice gentle but firm. “Y/N, I know you're scared, and it's okay to be cautious. But you have to remember, we're hunters. Our lives are filled with risks, and we've faced worse than that Wendigo together.”
He continued, his eyes locking onto yours, “You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you, but you also have to take care of yourself. Being a hunter means facing fear head-on, and sometimes that means standing on your own two feet.”
You nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. Dean was right; you couldn't let fear rule your life forever.
With Dean's words echoing in your mind, you began to make a conscious effort to rely on yourself more. There were moments when you found the courage to try out on your own, even if it was just for a short while, to confront the remnants of your fear. Gradually, you felt a glimmer of your old, independent self resurfacing.
But there were still times when the weight of anxiety bore down on you, and in those moments, you sought solace in Dean's presence. You found comfort in his unwavering support and understanding. He noticed your struggles and approached them with patience and acceptance.
Instead of pushing you away when you clung to him, Dean embraced your need for reassurance. He let you lean on him when the anxiety became overwhelming, understanding that healing was a gradual process. Whether it was a reassuring word, a comforting touch, or simply his silent presence, Dean was there for you.
You both found a balance. You were getting better at facing your fears, and Dean was getting better at being there when you needed support.
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delicrieux · 1 month
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𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 5. year one: early september, 1972
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pairing for this chapter—f!lestrange!reader x regulus black warnings for this chapter—none word count—1.9k
the woes of the first week.
masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | ttp masterlist | < back | next >
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 “how is she?” you inquire.
evan remains quiet for a few moments, the very picture of misery. sad eyes pour down the letter held between steady fingers, toast and marmalade untouched by his elbow. he had read it trice and still remains unsatisfied. if you weren’t as tired, you’d snatch it out his hands to inspect it yourself. unfortunately, both of you seem to have been tormented by a sleepless night.
“completely bedridden,” he surmises. there’s a pinch between his brows that will become routine when he’ll be faced with something inconsiderate. you know upon notice, and it feels as though you always knew, “from a common cold.”
hardly a novelty, “hope she gets better soon,” she never does, and anyone but evan would scoff at the words. you wonder if he ever tires of hearing them. a porcelain cup between your palms warms you – black tea and balmy fumes against your skin, “how’d she catch it, anyway?”
“exploring the garden,”
“thought she wasn’t allowed to do that.”
“you’ve met pandora,” he grumbles, folding the letter neatly before hiding it inside the inner lapels of his cloak. close to the heart, where all important things should remain, “a rambunctious child,” he says, as if he isn’t one. the miasma of his father’s perfume doesn’t enfold him. he seems particularly young in the pale morning light, “don’t think she realises the consequences.”
no, surely she does not. sickly and dream-like, pandora rosier speaks little and feels too much. the sight of a butterfly’s torn wing had distraught her so horribly that she fell comatose for a week before she awoke mid-winter with a terrible headache and no recollection of the occurrence. mrs rosier had forbid anyone to speak of it, and pandora was no longer allowed to play in the manor’s garden without an escort. every space needed to be scrubbed and tailored before she was to step foot in it.
not that it helped much. once, pandora told you that she saw mirages in the dancing dust. you thought her terribly stupid and suggested to play dolls instead.
“how will she fare, i wonder,” you think yourself sounding very diplomatic, like mrs rosier when she masked worry with a pinched lip and a slight raise of a brow. your weathered gaze sweeps the sleepy gaggle of children seeking breakfast in the great hall. today, it is much less impressive than the night of the sorting, “hogwarts is hardly up to standards.”
truly, headless ghosts and moving armours, twisting staircases and wailing portraits, not to mention the great expanse of rolling hills and the murky depths of the black lake, still as glass against the trees when you peeked at it this morning. you imagine pandora would faint at the sight of a ripple, or burst into tears upon a still portraits sudden, uncanny movement.
evan must have considered this for far longer than you have. he shrugs. either he doesn’t want to say or he doesn’t want to speak of this further. both fit you fine, for your interest in young pandora goes as far as politeness wills it.
“where’s regulus?” he switches topic idly, pouring some milk into a steaming cup that appeared by his right hand no sooner than he moved it.
“how should i know,” perhaps a tone too petulant for such an offhanded comment, “sleeping, probably.”
he tuts, “surprised you’re awake.”
“i'm very diligent and studious,” you remark, which only earns a quiet chortle. a year ago you would have smacked him. perhaps you haven’t changed so much, because he nurses his shoulder with a glare pointed in your direction, “don’t pout, you look like a pug.”
whatever else he was going to mumble is lost under the threat of more violence. perhaps he has no fight in him. it is very early. you would say you awoke at sunrise, watching it gleam through the water and onto the cold tiles of the slytherin common room. but that would be a lie. you hardly slept at all.
there was no clear reason for it, not that you could name. a restless uneasy spiked once you laid your head down on the cool pillow. your eyes didn’t close, even when they grew heavy from each slow blink. they got used to the dark. you could outline the faint silver embroidery of the curtain around your bed. hear matilda’s hushed breaths and marzy’s quiet snore. the overhead gurgle of pipes. the groan of old wooden structures as you moved, and the rustle of linen sheets. all these sights and sounds distracted you. you kept thinking, but it was too fragmented to understand. at once there was the pungent burn of a record and melted lemon fudge on your tongue.
you wished, for a moment, to find regulus, though you were unsure of what you would do once you located him, nor why you wanted it in the first place. this thought soon warped into a bitter ache because he hadn’t searched you out first. he should know, of course, when you’re unhappy, and he should do something instead of sleeping soundly as if to mock you.
“have you spoken to slughorn?” evan pulls you out of your musings. like a true gentleman, he keeps his elbows off the table and speaks only when he’s done chewing.
“he invited regulus and i for tea and biscuits,” you recall. evan hums in agreement.
“i've got tea with him today. with barty.”
“matilda and marzipan are scheduled for tomorrow, i think,” you say, “curious what to expect?”
“i assume praises about our good blood and magical potential?” he raises a brow with a sideways glance.
you smile, “it’s not so horrid. you can tune him out after the first ten minutes, he hardly says anything worthwhile after.”
the head of your house, the esteemed potion and poison pioneer and rigorous socialite, horace slughorn, is a well-known figure to you outside of the classroom. an invitation is always extended to him during particularly big socials, and he’s always delighted smarmy around the upper echelon of the wizarding world. while his focus then was mostly directed at figures such as your father and others of equal importance, he always gave you a caramel toffee once you were instructed to say hello.
now, of course, you are very much important, a star jewel in his collection of significant children, and he extended his summons to you and regulus personally, and wanted just the two of you alone. you suppose slughorn split you all into pairs so he wouldn’t run out of compliments. you adore being adored, though his praises had felt a tad shallow, and the tea too sweet.
“when’s it, anyway?”
“after dinner,” evan sighs; more students pile into the hall.
“don’t sound all that enthusiastic.”
“can you blame me?”
you make a face, stuck somewhere between scrutiny and pity. no, you can’t really blame him, but that doesn’t mean you shan’t.
thankfully, the conversation melts to silence as you spot a disgruntled and sleepy bartimus and a much more composed regulus. they enter together, seemingly engrossed in a hushed conversation that doesn’t bode well for either, but they lighten up marginally when they see you and evan, pristine even in these unforgiving hours.
“blimey,” barty all of throws himself into a nearby seat, and the table sprouts a hearty breakfast to feed the insatiable crouch stomach, “this toad,” he points with his thumb at regulus, who, still adoring a slight frown, takes a seat beside you. naturally. barty will likely tease him once he’s done cowing over his woes, “woke me at the crack of dawn, moaning about how we’ll be late. we’ve got history of magic, for merlin’s sake. coulda slept in fine and missed zilch.”
“tragic.” is all evan says.
“did you get here early?” regulus greets instead of a good morning. he seems a tad weary, but is, overall, managing quite better than either you or your sombre seatmate. he leans a little, and you lean back, to catch evan’s gaze, “thought i heard the door opening.”
“clearly,” seems rosier’s potency for polite conversation has gone down drastically since your chat. perhaps he’s grown bored, or more tired, or is simply fed up at the sight of barty scarfing down his meal, “you know no one’s gonna take it from you.”
“i'll take from you, though,” barty says, pilfering some toast from evan’s plate.
“did you get a chance to visit the library?” regulus asks, once again, evan.
“shall we switch seats?” you inquire pointedly.
regulus spares you a glance, “i'm fine here.”
if you could roll your eyes more they’d lodge into the back of your skull. the morning is saved, however, by marzy and matilda entering with their arms linked. you spring up, grabbing at your book bag, much to the startle of the boys.
“leaving us for girls?” barty accuses.
“i’m a girl,” you huff, greatly insulted by such a statement, “and i'd much rather enjoy my breakfast with pretty company instead of this sorry sort,” before you can so much as make it a few steps, regulus pipes up.
“will you sit with me at history?”
you frown, “absolutely not!”
you do. and what is worse, you are dragged into the front row. barty and evan sit in the back, no doubt by the former’s request – easier to sleep, or cheat, out of the professor’s peripheries. marzy and matilda sit somewhere in the middle, and the rest of the company is largely unfamiliar to you – some pale-faced ravenclaws and still sleepy hufflepuffs, a few gryffindors with an abundance of school supplies taking everything out with as much volume as expected. this year’s crop of first years is, overall, quite small.
regulus takes out his quills and parchment. hogwarts: a history lays under the sunrays as you stare, willing it to catch on fire. what a feat that’d be, wandless magic on your first week with only a few simple charms under your belt. perhaps you’d be so revelled that the faculty would let you skip this course entirely. no such luck.
regulus nudges you with his elbow, feeling particularly pesky today. you don’t react, opting for scribbling the date on the top of your yellowed paper. he gives you a few moments before he does so again. you write your name. hear him sigh. good, he should feel bad for what he’s done.
“are you angry with me?” he asks quietly, minding the loud conversation just behind you, “i'm not sure what i’ve done to upset you.”
in all fairness, you’re not quite sure, either. the complexities of your mind have yet to be sorted into the words familiar to you. all that you do know is that everything here feels strange, and if you knew the term for it, perhaps it would be called homesickness.
not that you’d ever tell him. regulus changes a bit if front of evan and barty, but such was always the case, only never so apparent. perhaps you have been grieving this difference since you got here. that things will change, and that they are changing, and that you’re changing, as well. you feel as though you should be spared such a premonition. you’re too young to be so self-aware.
“it’s nothing,” you decide to forgive him for his mishaps. he is just a boy. your stupid regulus. your offering of peace is a smile. momentarily, he seems struck by it, looking at you even when you turn back to your parchment and the quirk of your lips melts into a placid line.
somewhere, a thread is weaved.
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imrllytootiredforthis · 9 months
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you know i listened to some nsfw audio like a month ago?... ig🤷🏻‍♀️and it was a puppy boy speaker trying the tail plug and the leash on for the first time😭he was eating the listener out in the end😭pls not only was it adorably cute like😭but also the voice of that guy sounded like jake's or i'm being too delusional at this point idk now🙂🙂
anyway this idea has been living in my mind since that day and oh god...it's def not making my life easier like...at all💀💀the man is just a dumb doggy personified idc,,,, the things i wanna do to him 🤯(i literally have no idea why i'm sending this but.. thought you'd find it interesting ^^)
...do you perhaps still have this audio??����🙂
he's pretty puppy. he's filthy mutt. he's dumb doggy. he's bitch in heat. all of which he'd probably 100% moan at being called😫
i'm just imagining finding out that he into it for the first time though, whether it's some kind of porn on his computer that he sucks at hiding or a pair of fluffy puppy ears hidden in his closet-the exact shade of his hair
you don't tell him you know right away though, instead you take this perfect chance-still slightly upset that he didn't tell you himself-to tease him😫😏
one morning waking up early in bed next to him, his body curled into yours, legs wrapped around your hips. clinging onto you like his life depends of it.
you lay there like this for awhile, watching him as he sleeps for a bit longer, small snores coming from it that make it all the more adorable.
you can hardly help but lightly drag a finger over his face, his cheekbones and lips and eyebrows, marvelling how a human being could be so fucking pretty. he's pretty always but especially like this. with dried drool in the corner of his mouth, features soft and a smile playing on the edge of his lips. his face is practically buried in your chest (he claims it's his favourite pillow)
he'd wake up slowly, muttering nonsense and rubbing his head against you. he'd probably reach down to grab your hand and pull it up to put it in his hair, encouraging you to scratch his scalp still half asleep and groggy.
he's so cute you could die.
but then you realize that it's the perfect opportunity.
wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him in closer to you, slotting your mouth into the crevice of his neck, whispering to him.
"good morning~" the smile on his face is still tired, the window across the room annunciating the shine in his eyes when he looks at you. "you look so pretty puppy,"
he'd freeze at that, eyes wide, muscles tense. unsure of what he should do with himself. absolutely malfunctioning on the inside, trying not to squirm against you.
"u-I...thank-thank you?" his voice borders on breathless, his fingers getting tighter against your skin, nails digging in.
"no need to thank me, you're always a pretty puppy," you flip his body over and he lets you, enjoying the subtle manhandling as you perch him on top of you, his legs straddling your thighs, "a pretty puppy just for me, right?"
his boxers feel unbearably tight and his face is as red as a fire hydrant. all he wants...all he wants, well he wants a lot of things but this, this is by far at the top of his list.
he unconsciously begins to grind down against you, his head falling back as he lets out a long moan. "yes, yes, m' your puppy-just your puppy,"
you pull his head back to you by his hair, looking at the glassy sheen in his eyes, the way his nails dig into the palm of his hands, the way that whimpers escape from under his breath giving away just how needy he is.
fingers glide over the smooth expanse of his neck, a touch he welcomes. "good boy. and you know what good boys get?"
he looks almost timid as he replies, "...a reward?"
the smile that blooms across his face makes him feel so good, like he's pleased you some way, like he wants only to please you all the time. "good! now close your eyes for me puppy, want it to be a surprise for you."
he listens as he's told as you reach down into your nightstand, rifling through it's contents before pulling his reward out.
"open."
he opens his eyes to a simply black collar, a gold tag on it shaped like a bone with something engraved onto it.
'my good puppy'
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wyn-n-tonic · 1 year
Text
That's A Real Fucking Legacy: The Lips I Used to Call Home
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/former Tommy Miller x f!reader Word Count: 1392 Warnings: I don't think there are any (let me know if I'm wrong). Author's Note: Title longer than a Fall Out Boy song.
That's A Real Fucking Legacy Masterlist
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Calling Boston to Wyoming a quick shot straight through would be laughable. It would’ve been laughable in the before but it is definitely laughable now.
But to do this with a baby?
It’s not just laughable, it’s a goddamn death wish. 
The only way she’s calmest is wrapped up against her daddy’s chest, his large arms folded over her small body. It leaves him unable to do much else but it’s also the only way his own fear leaves his eyes.
There’s luck in the Fireflies, though.
Safe house to safe house, vehicle to vehicle. There’s no thick, rotten scent of the infected near until somewhere in Kansas City. 
He feels useless, like he’s unable to protect the baby or you or anybody else. But despite stewing about sitting in the safe house with you and the baby, he does express happiness over the first alone time you’ve shared in about three weeks. 
“You should be sleeping, sweetheart,” he says, his voice laced through with a tone that says it’s not a suggestion. “You need your strength.” 
The season is giving over from late summer to early fall, every day changing hour by hour with the walking and the driving. It was easy in the QZ, year by year. You knew what to expect, how to rest your body—you could seek rest for your body when you needed. 
You need it so much more every day with the way the weather and the travel is going after your body followed by the stress of it all; the complex emotions this entire ordeal is brought on.
This was never a hope in your mind; leaving, going. Your eyes rolled every time Tommy talked about leaving the QZ, it was the subject of so many fights. He believed there was better and you only believed there was death beyond the walls of FEDRA protection. The longer time stretched on after he left, the more steadfast that belief came to the point that you shook with sobs and fear every time Joel made his trips across to trade.
“I'm fine, really.” 
The bed beneath you isn’t what you’d call comfortable, not in the before times at least and definitely not in comparison to the worn in lump you were used to back in Boston. You’ve been laying together since the moment you settled into the safe house, everybody else going out to clear paths for the trucks to get through.
Baby babbles through sleep in her father’s arms beside you, not once have you called her by the name you ended up giving her. Not since he showed up. And the belief that beyond the walls means death is so hardwired into your body and brain that you can’t find it in you to sleep. That’s why he’s talking about your strength, sneaks you bits of his own rations. 
You’re still breastfeeding, as well. When you can, anyway. It’s been harder on the road and the lack of any real privacy isn’t helping. No matter how he tries to shield your body, the awareness that there’s not just eyes but Tommy’s eyes is enough to run every part of you dry and cold even if it’s getting hotter and more humid with every day you pass into the south.
“You look like shit, sweetheart,” he whispers across the small space between your bodies. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re afraid to sleep.” 
“Yeah,” you tell him, eyes darting down to your daughter between you. “I am.” 
“I’m right here,” he says, hand smoothing down the hair at the crown of your head. “It’s okay, please rest.” 
They’re gone when you wake.
It's just you in a cold and empty bed, a threadbare excuse for a blanket draped over your sleeping body along with his jacket. Alarm bells go off in your brain and then you hear the voices in the next room.
Joel’s.
Baby’s.
Tommy’s. 
Nobody else, just them.
“She has your dimples.” Tommy.
There’s a small laugh and then Joel says he’s glad she got them on both sides, not just the one. 
Tommy’s voice is tired, weather worn and rough from strain. Not how he sounded this morning when he left.
There’s a hunger in your stomach, growing and aching loud but it stops with every word spoken between the men you love that filters through the thin walls and half cracked door.
“How is she really?” Tommy asks. “Joel, I still love her—“
“How? How can you still love her when you left her alone for so long?” 
“How could I ask either of you to come with me if I didn’t?”
There’s an annoyed kind of grumble that could only belong to Joel and then silence that stretches on just long enough to make you think there’s space to move forward into the conversation but then it breaks. 
“I wouldn’t say that she’s good, Tommy.” You can hear the way his leg bounces to entertain the baby. “None of us are good anymore but, my God, she’s fucking amazing.”
“Yeah?”
Joel clears his throat. “Yeah.”
“Do you love her?” The younger man asks. 
A beat.
Another. 
Two more.
“I feel a whole lot more for that woman than just love, Tommy,” he finally says. “I know you’re hurting but you have to understand that I—we thought that you were dead. She hurt for a long time and I watched her do that and I did my best to be there for her but—“ Baby babbles to interrupt him and you can practically see the smile in the laughter that follows. 
Those feelings, the existence of them, aren’t new to you. Still, every time he insinuates their existence your head gets light—fuzzy and warm.
“But what, Joel?” Tommy prompts him. “I’m trying to understand this, because I want to not hurt and I want to look at this little girl and not want to cry.”
“Yeah.” A chair creaks and you assume somebody sat forward or back. “I want to look at her and not want to cry, too, but I felt that with Sarah—I feel that with you, Tommy, you might as well have been my first kid sometimes. It wasn’t just me that was there for her through all that hurt over those years, she was there for me and refused to let me pull away. Being with her is the closest I feel to who I was before, I need you to understand that.” 
“That's how she made me feel, too,” Tommy responds. “But I don’t know if I’ll ever really understand.”
“I guess that’s fair,” Joel concedes. “Hell, that’s more than fair, you’re probably really sick of us asking you to understand. Can I have Baby back now?”
Confusion floods through you, you were certain the calm, happy babbles were because she was tucked into her daddy’s arm; bouncing on her daddy’s leg.
“Does she have a name?” Tommy asks. “Or have you just been calling her Baby this whole time? I know you’re afraid to get attached, Joel, but—“
“We named her Thomasin,” Joel says, that stern, warning shot in his tone again. Begging his brother to understand this, that this was the honor you could give his memory—that you named what was born out of grief and love for him after him. “We call her Thomi for short but we’ve been thinking about changing it. We figured it would make you uncomfortable.” 
“No,” Tommy answers. “No, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.” 
Hunger grows loud again but so, too, does the blood rush of his words up your neck, into your cheeks and between your ears. For all the tears and all the yelling and the hurt of fresh cuts on closed wounds his arrival brought back into your life, those are the words of the man you once loved. It has been weeks and he is holding her, speaking about her—about you—so gently. Despite saying he doesn’t understand, it’s there in his voice and lacing through every one of his words and it grows stronger each day closer to Jackson.
“I promised her that I’d come back for her, give her a safer and happier life that she deserves,” Tommy starts again. “I’m heartbroken that it won’t be with me, Joel, but I am glad it’s with you.” 
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onestepbackwards · 5 months
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Imagine if the player controlling Akari/Rei just trama dumps on a self aware NPC like Melli or volo about there irl life, thinking they wouldn't care and just leaves them horrified.
Oh, how horrified it would leave them-
You just kinda idle in front of Melli for a bit, rubbing your temples, clearly exhausted. Why did you even start playing anyway when you had to get up early tomorrow? "Man... My brain is in such a fog today. I can barely concentrate."
You stretch as your back pops.
"Getting hit by a car definitely wasn't what I needed. Especially after working so long today... I'm just glad he hit the breaks in time, so it wasn't like he hit us hard... and I still have to go into work for 10 hours tomorrow.
Your voice sounds so low and tired. "Should have known boss would ask for a damn doctors note just so I could have a day off after an accident, claiming if I didn't, it wasn't 'that' serious. Ugh. I just know I have bruises forming. Is that not enough?" You set the switch down beside you, leaning into your couch cushion. "Add that my family decided my house was perfect for the holidays to visit when I told them I didn't want to host... I just know one of my aunts is going to yell at me again over painting my room my favorite color or something. Or asking about my love life and trying to set me up with some stranger, and getting mad when I say no. Ugh. Maybe I should just go to bed..."
You put your switch in sleep mode, unaware of the horrified look on both the Hero and Melli's faces. This wasn't the first time the Hero had heard you talk about your many troubles, but it was still worrying all the same.
Melli though, was very much not expecting that. Even he seemed a bit horrified just from the small bit he gleamed from your small ramble.
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