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ayyy-pee · 6 months

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Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 1 - Inheritance

A/N: There's some Danish in fic that I hope I'm using correctly! (If not let me know) Nanami calls his mother "Mor" in this fic, which is Danish for Mom (according to Google lmao)

“Are you okay with this arrangement?” a stocky, bald man ahead asks. In the harsh fluorescent lighting of the office, the beads of sweat forming on his head are apparent. He reaches up and swipes his hand across where his hairline probably resided at some point in time, but is now long gone. He clears his throat, repeating the question.

“Um-” he glances around at the other men at the table, dressed in bland, ugly suits. A bunch of blank faces that’ll be forgotten once this is over. The man behind taps his shoulder.

“Mr. Nanami?” He speaks.

Nanami’s brows raise as he’s brought back to the present and he looks around to find the men surrounding the table staring at him. He looks back to the bald man next to him. “I’m sorry. What was that?”

The bald man wipes his forehead again and Nanami hopes whatever paperwork and pen he is about to offer him is passed with his other hand. He resists shuddering in disgust.

“I was saying your mother has left her bakery to you in her will and testament with the wish that you continue to keep it open.”

Right. Nanami remembers now. His mother is dead - the only family he can remember having now leaving him alone in this world. He figured this would happen eventually. She was elderly and in declining health. He was truly surprised she lived as long as she did. To top it off, she wants him to keep the piece of shit bakery that’s been passed down generations in business.

Nanami didn’t get to see his mother often. He worked as a corporate executive so he didn’t have much time to allocate to visiting her and being forced into the kitchen with her. Instead, he opted to call her often and visited when he had the time.

The sensation of his bottom lip trembling pulls Nanami from his thoughts.

“I don’t want it.” He confirms, voice as even as he can manage.

The bald man glances around nervously before looking back at Nanami. “Mr. Nanami, I understand this must be a lot to take in and quite difficult for you. However, this bakery has been in your family for generations. Your grandfather left it to your mother when he passed and now your mother to you. Are you sure you don’t want to–”

“It’s a sinking ship”, Nanami cuts him off. “I’ve seen the books a few times. I know it’s bleeding money and has been for some time. What do you suppose I do with that?”

The man shrugs, not that Nanami truly expected him to have an answer. Nanami pinches the bring of his nose, his brows stitching together in irritation. He really doesn’t want to deal with this. It’s annoying and an inconvenience. He wants to coast by in his cushy corporate executive job until retirement, making loads of money and not worrying about the crippling debt brought on by selling baked dough in some sad, rundown family owned establishment.

His mind drifts back to the very last time he was at the bakery, remembering his mother kneading the dough between her shaky, liver spotted fingers. When the aches became too much for her, she asked Nanami to give her a hand. He always complied if only to keep himself busy for the moment.

“When will you settle down? Work won’t be there forever”, she would ask as she took a seat on her stool next to the confectionery ovens. The massive machines loomed over her thin frame and Nanami wondered how she did this everyday. He wished she would close up shop and live the rest of her days resting. He had offered many times to support her, each time being met with a hard “no”.

“I don’t have time to date anyone. Besides, they’d just end up leaving me anyway. I’m too busy to make time for anyone else.”

His mother hummed in acknowledgement. “Yes, but you have to make time for them, Kento. A relationship is about compromise after all.”

“I don’t want to have to compromise. That’s the point of me not dating anyone right now”. His mother was always pushing for him to find someone. Asking for him to bring someone home to meet her before she met her demise - her words. She was always so dramatic, often prompting Nanami to roll his eyes in amusement.

Nanami molded the dough into an oval shape, grabbing the bread lame from the side of the table and quickly slicing leaf cut patterns into the dough - both his and his mother’s favorite. Carefully, he placed the dough onto a baking pan before gently shooing away his mother from her stool to slide the pan into the oven and turn it on.

“Kento, money comes and goes. You won’t have forever to live your life the way you see fit. And I want to see you get married before I’m dead and gone!” His mother sighed dramatically as she took Nanami’s large hard in both her smaller ones. “In all seriousness, sweet boy. I want to see you happy, living your life to the fullest.”

Nanami smiled softly down at his mother. He gently folded her up in an embrace. “My life is full as long as you’re here, Mor .”

His mother smacked him playfully in the chest. “Don’t try to butter me up with speaking Danish”, she scolded, though her voice held no anger. “Kento, take a break. Life will pass you by before you know it and you don’t want to look back at your life to realize you wasted it sitting in an office rotting under those awful lights.” She squinted her eyes to drive her point home. Nanami rolled his eyes playfully, looking down at his watch.

“I have to go back to work. I’ll call you later this week.” He bent low to place a kiss to his mother’s cheek before heading out through the front of the store.

The quiver in his lip returned and he let out a shaky breath to steady himself as the bald, sweaty man next to him slid over what looked to be a contract.

“If you’re sure, Mr. Nanami, we will have the bank take possession of the property. I’ll just need your signature here.” He extended his hand to give Nanami a pen and he fought the curl of disgust threatening to form on his lip when he noticed he held it with the same sweat-slathered hand he’d been using to wipe his head this entire meeting.

Nanami’s eyes roamed across the room. The faces of men he’d likely never see again surrounded him, just like every other day in this godforsaken boardroom. All dressed in some variation of the same ordinary suit and tie, talking amongst themselves about who knows what. And the lights, the fucking fluorescent lights threatening to trigger the same migraine Nanami found himself having everyday.

Life will pass you by before you know it and you don’t want to look back at your life to realize you wasted it sitting in an office rotting under those awful lights.

Nanami squinted just as his mother did that day, a wry chuckle escaping him. Fuck it. What did he have to lose?

“Actually–” he begins.

- - - - - - - -

Nanami is standing in the front of the bakery he now owns. It’s been about two weeks since he inherited this gaping wound bleeding out money every second it’s standing. He’s quit his corporate job, his peers whispering that his loss must have triggered a mental breakdown. They were almost right. The moment he signed the legal documents to take over the bakery, he felt free - as though the weight of the corporate world had been lifted from his shoulders. Now, as he entered the bakery and flipped on the lights, watching as a piece of ceiling tile tumbled to the lobby floor he felt his impending breakdown sneaking closer.

This place was a mess. He couldn’t blame his mother. She wasn’t able to handle the upkeep on her own and honestly, Nanami should have come around more to help out. Now, he was literally paying the price. It was no wonder the place was struggling when it was open. The furniture was worn, the decor was outdated and not in a trendy way. He understood wanting to keep the family memory alive, but the bakery was feeling more like a moldy old hole in the wall and not as welcoming as his mother believed it to be.

Repairs would be needed as soon as possible if he wanted to have a reopening for this place next month. He also needed to renovate the space and hire a baker who knew how the hell to run this place because he had no intention of doing it himself. No way. He fully intended on staffing this place up and collecting money from behind the scenes - the perfect retirement plan.

Nanami spent the day scheduling repairmen and interviews for the Head Baker position all within the next week. If he could find someone knowledgeable and adept, he could breathe easy knowing he would never have to be here unless absolutely necessary.

After scheduling the last interview, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hands over his face. This sucked. He was putting in way too much effort already and it did not seem worth it. Only time would tell.

- - - - - - - -

The first interview was easy enough. A young girl who seemed exhausted but eager. She had prior bakery experience, but the way the bags hung under her eyes made Nanami uncomfortable. It was as though she had something clinging to her and if he were totally honest, it gave him the creeps. At the end of the interview, he wished her well, advised her to try to get some rest and maybe see a medium about whatever strange aura was following her.

The second interview was an odd man with tattoos all over his body that looked something akin to stitches. He was young and lively, but it was apparent the moment he entered the bakery that he lacked basic hygiene skills. His long, gray (how old was this kid?) hair hung messily around his shoulders and the stench…Nanami could not describe the stench. If he absolutely had to describe it - like gun to the head, forced to recall the smell - he'd compare it to something along the lines of a sewer rat dipped in rotten eggs and left in the sun to bake. There was also the awful vibe Nanami got from him. He had a feeling if he hired this guy, Nanami would come in one day to find the entire bakery empty, the only thing left behind being hand soap since this man definitely didn’t wash his hands after using the bathroom, or shower, or brush his teeth or–

The third interview was annoying, but by far the best. Nanami sat at a table in the lobby as his eyes skimmed over the resume in his hands. A previous position as a Head Baker already, excellent. This resume even included custom recipes and pictures of their creations which he could not deny looked delicious. Nanami had to admit he was already impressed.

The door to the bakery opened and Nanami stood. Your eyes roamed around the lobby until you spotted him. You offered him a wide, friendly smile, holding your hand out to him as you approached. He asked your name, to which you confirmed and he shook your hand. Professional already. He liked it.

You both took a seat across from each other as Nanami went over the interview questions he had prepared. The usual - tell me about yourself? Tell me a time when…How would you handle…

Your answers were professional with enough of your personality shining through to let Nanami know you were a likable enough person. Nanami especially enjoyed the way your eyes lit up when you went over how you came to write your recipes. Clearly you were passionate about baking, something his mother would have appreciated. As you explained to him how you once created a cake made of broccoli for a child’s birthday party that had not a single crumb left by the end of the night, Nanami couldn’t help but think how much his mother really would have liked you. He shook the thought away as he watched you take in the bakery again. He suddenly felt ashamed of its condition.

“I apologize. This place is an absolute dump, but I’ll be renovating soon enough and will be sure you have top of the line equipment should you get the position.” He muttered, rubbing his temple to ease the migraine that had been slowly creeping up on him since his last interview.

You shot him a look of confusion, tilting your head to the side. “What do you mean a dump? This place is gorgeous !” You beamed. “I mean, look around. There’s so much character in this building. You can tell whoever ran the place loved it. It looks like it really met its purpose.” You ran your hand across the worn wood of the table and sighed wistfully.

Nanami scoffed. “It appears outside of baking, you have questionable taste.”

“How can you look at this place and see a dump?” You questioned, genuinely curious.

“Because I grew up in this bakery and it didn’t used to be a dump and now it very obviously is.” Nanami said easily.

Your grin faded into a scowl. “Mr. Nanami, with all due respect, you seem to be looking only for flaws here.”

You stood from the table and pointed behind the front counter to the kitchen in the back. “Do you mind?” Nanami shook his head, sighing as he stood with you and followed you to the back.

Your head whipped around as you entered the kitchen, taking in the worn down appliances, pans, tools and other materials. You didn’t touch anything, only a small smile gracing your features as you observed everything.

“I love bakeries like this personally. I love to be in a space that feels like lots of love and care was put into the end product. Anyone can throw flour into a pot with some eggs and sugar, but what makes one bakery different or better than the next?”

You watched Nanami intensely, not speaking. Oh. Was he the one being interviewed now?

“How much money they make.” He answered confidently. You snorted.

“Loud and wrong”, you stated. “It’s love , Mr. Nanami.”

He rolled his eyes and you burst into laughter. Nanami was now slowly becoming convinced you were a crazy person.

“I’m joking…to an extent. But if you put in the time, the effort and the care into your baking you’ll gain so much more than you ever thought possible. The fancy furniture and stupid bright lights won’t make a difference if you just slap whatever dry, shitty bread onto a plate and sell it.”

Nanami stared blankly.

“What’s your favorite memory here, Mr. Nanami?” you asked suddenly.

“Irrelevant to this interview”, he replied instead. You scowled.

“Come onnnnn, indulge me”, you pleaded.

“No.”

You folded your arms across your chest stubbornly. “Will you always be this difficult if we work together?”

Nanami’s brows shot up in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Will you always be this difficult if we work together?” You repeat, a little more slowly this time.

“I am not difficult”, he lied. He knew he was being difficult at this moment, probably sounding like a child arguing back. He could have just answered your damn prying questions but…he didn’t want to. Okay, yes he was being childish. Regardless, he continued.

“Why should I give you this job?”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on it absentmindedly while you thought about your answer. “Because I love baking. I love baking more than I love breathing and I could work a boring office job like anyone else, but I know I’d hate myself for it. This place needs a little help and I want to be here to make it into whatever you need it to be.”

Hating yourself for working an office job, huh? Nanami could relate. He was in this position mere weeks ago. You were sort of annoying always trying to see the bright side - rainbows and butterflies and shit - but maybe he could look past that. He did need a baker after all and his only other interviews were not exactly what he was looking for. But, he needed to establish some ground rules first.

“If you accept this position, I will be your boss and you will respect me. Please don’t misinterpret this relationship. I am not interested in establishing a friendship. I simply need you to run this kitchen and make sure your desserts are up to par.”

You stood up straight, your demeanor shifting to strictly business. “Noted.”

Nanami sighed, feeling relieved that he was able to establish who the boss was around here before things got out of control. He squared his shoulders, looking at you from across the kitchen.

“Now, I am formally offering you the position of Head Baker. Do you accept it?”

“Absolutely”, you said with no hesitation before continuing. “But if you’re standing in my kitchen, I demand respect too”, you spoke up. “My desserts will never not be up to par, Mr. Nanami but please don’t misinterpret this relationship either. When you step into my kitchen, I am in charge here.”

You moved across the kitchen and held your hand out to Nanami, who shook it quietly as he assessed you. You were passionate, spoke your mind, demanded respect but you were also annoyingly way too positive. It would be an adjustment for Nanami to work with someone like you. He was used to the drab routine of office work and the bland personalities that came along with it. This entire process was going to be an adjustment for him.

Nanami walked you out of the bakery, giving you a start date of next Monday to go over recipes for a soft reopening. He watched you go, a small skip in your step and for the first time since losing his mother, his lips curled up into a tiny smile.

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void-wolfie · 10 months

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How'd You Do That?

summary: you have a panic attack right before your first premiere. [request]

pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader

tw: panic attack, my terrible writing (let me know if I need to add anything)

words: 1.5k

a/n: this is one of the rare times where I can say it took me so long to get to a request because I had too many ideas. I was watching my favorite show the other day and they use this idea and I couldn't stop thinking of a Jenna x R scene with it (bonus points if you know what show it's based off of)

*disclaimer; please don't use this tactic to stop a panic attack, it could actually make things worse. I only wrote it like this because it's fiction and cute.

"You did it, kid,"

Those were the first words out of your dad's mouth when he called you.

You did it.

The words bounced around in your head, filling you with excitement and dread. There was a pit in your stomach, and you had the urge to puke, you weren't sure if that was a good thing or not.

You did it.

That was a year ago, news had just gotten out that you'd be in a new summer film, set to co-star with none other than Miss Jenna Ortega herself. At the time, you were a no-name actor. You'd been in a few small things here and there, a few supporting roles. But you were nothing compared to the young sensation herself.

You'd gotten a rocky start; you were an anxious mess at the start of filming. But who wouldn't be when they were sitting so close to their celebrity crush.

Somewhere along the way, the anxiety faded. She wasn't The Jenna Ortega anymore; she was just Jenna. She wasn't the actress you'd been looking up to since the start of your career, but a pretty girl with a million freckles and a love of dad jokes. She became your best friend. The girl you'd call at one am to confess all your worries to, the girl who'd call you every day and made sure you ate because sometimes you'd forget, the girl who didn't know a lick of Spanish yet could still pull off the most amazing accent, and the girl you would text first thing every morning.

You sat in the car, wringing your hands nervously.

You were supposed to get out of the car five minutes ago, but you couldn't. Your legs felt like Jello and your vision was spinning just a bit.

All that filming and it was finally the moment of truth. The day of the premiere. Would people like you? Would they like the movie? What if your acting was terrible? You'd never been to a premiere like this before, what if you embarrassed yourself? Or-

You were freaking out. You could hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears, erratically beating in your chest. It felt like someone had knocked the air out of you, squeezing your lungs and making it impossible to breathe. And your hands; they were clammy and cold, yet somehow also hot, and they wouldn't stop shaking.

Jenna was sitting next to you in the car, tinted windows hiding the two of you from the sea of flashing cameras outside. She had been through her fair share of premieres. She knew what to expect, she knew how to act and what to do. You on the other hand, you'd never been to one. She'd been watching you with worried eyes all day, watching as your anxiety built as the day went on.

"Hey, it's going to be alright," She grabbed your hands, interlocking your fingers with hers. She'd hoped the physical contact might help calm you, but it didn't seem to ease your nerves.

Your eyes flitted down to your hands interlaced with Jenna's, her black nail polish contrasting against her tan skin.

Being close to Jenna always made you feel better, yet it didn't seem to be helping this time.

Your anxiety was at an all-time high, crippling you from the inside out. Your throat squeezed a little tighter as if you weren't struggling to breathe enough already.

"I'll be right there with you the whole time, ok?" She squeezed your hands reassuringly, but it didn't do anything to quell the raging storm inside.

Your eyes traveled back to the window. The flashing lights, the reporters circling like ravenous vultures, the way the other actors were already out there making everything look so easy while you were in the midst of a breakdown... It was too much...

Your breathing got a little more ragged, shallow uneven breaths wracking your chest. You closed your eyes, focusing on just trying to calm down.

Jenna's eyebrows scrunched in confusion, watching the way your chest heaved and hands squeezed hers tighter. It only took her a few seconds to figure out what was happening, she wasn't any stranger to panic attacks.

"Breathe with me. In and out," She exaggerated her breathing, trying to encourage you to slow your own, "In and out,"

But you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried. The feeling of not being in control of something as simple as breathing made you panic even more.

"I- I can't-"

"Hey, look at me," you felt her finger under your chin, tilting your face to look at her. But you made sure to keep your eyes shut. You didn't want to look into those big brown eyes and show her just how vulnerable you were, you'd rather suffocate.

"y/n, please," her voice cracked ever so slightly, composure dropping for just a split second. She was worried about you. Worried about how you were spiraling out of control, and you wouldn't let her help.

Her mind was blank, not sure what to do. She had one idea left, though she wasn't sure if it'd help or make things entirely worse, "I have an idea, do you trust me?"

If this backfired... Well, she didn't want to think about that.

You nodded, still attempting to calm down. Your nerves felt like they were on fire as you struggled to breathe, your heartbeat still thumping loudly in your ears.

A second passed. Then two. You were about to open your eyes to see what bright idea Jenna had when a pair of lips smashed against yours.

The whole world stopped. All you could focus on was the pair of soft lips pressed against yours and the warm hand cupping your cheek.

Wow.

She pulled away and the world stood still.

Everything felt quiet. That nagging voice in the back of your skull wasn't there. The sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears had dimmed. Even the sound of the crowds outside seemed much smaller.

Jenna didn't think her idea would work. But you already seemed a bit better. Your hands had stopped shaking so violently and your breathing had mostly returned to normal.

"y/n?" Now Jenna was the one panicking. What if she just ruined your friendship? She couldn't lose you...

Your mind was strangely quiet for once. And you were only aware of two things. Firstly, wow. Secondly, do it again.

"y/n?" Jenna's voice finally pulled you from whatever trance you were in.

"Would it be wrong, to ask you to do that again?" Your eyes were still closed. Part of you was scared to open them again. What if you opened them and she wasn't there? What if it was all just a dream?

Jenna wasn't sure how to answer that. Would it be wrong? The two of you were coworkers after all. But she didn't really care.

It took her a second to think about what you were asking, and even less than that to throw the question out the window and kiss you again.

It was soft, simple, and sweet. It was everything you could ever ask for from a second kiss.

The minute Jenna pulled away all you could think of was the missing warmth. The way it felt like finding your other half just to be ripped apart.

Silence filled the air, neither of you sure who would speak first.

"How'd you do that?" You finally relaxed, opening your eyes to find her big brown ones looking back, full of concern and adoration.

"Do what?"

"You stopped my panic attack,"

"I read somewhere that getting someone to hold their breath can stop a panic attack, when I kissed you, you held your breath," you couldn't help but notice the small blush spread across her cheeks.

"Did you mean it? Like, did you want to kiss me?"

"Would it be wrong of me to say I did?"

Your eyes lit up. She wanted to kiss you? Does that mean she likes you?

Shouting and cheering from outside caught the attention of you and Jenna, heads darting over to the window to watch the cheering crowds outside; all of them oblivious to what just happened between you and your co-star.

"We have to go, don't we?" You were a bit disappointed. You didn't want to leave the safety of the car, you wanted to talk this out with Jenna.

"Unfortunately," Jenna noticed the pout that took over your features, the way you gripped her hand a bit tighter for comfort, "But I'll be right there the whole time, ok? And we can even leave early if you want."

You nodded, still not exactly happy to be going, but going with Jenna was better than going solo.

Jenna pushed open the car door. Instantly flashing lights and people calling yours and Jenna's names filled the air. You could feel the anxiety bubbling up again. But just as quickly as it started, it went away. Jenna's hand gave yours a little squeeze, reminding you she was right there.

#jenna ortega x gn!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #void-wolfie

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jazzsonly · 7 months

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ʙᴏʀᴅᴇʀᴢ

pairing(s): wednesday addams × fem!reader (implied.)

warning(s): mentions of being shot, angst. not proofread.

summary: all that woe inside you wrapped in a bullet wound.

part two. (coming soon!)

────────✬────────

you couldn't pinpoint what this feeling or what these feelings were, they seemed to mix together like presents in a box, a bow to go on top. envy, anger, woe all wrapped in one inside of you; the box.

you would add solace to that list but it was forced. you told yourself it was better this way. it was better that she ignored you all summer, it was better she came back and still didn't talk to you, it was even better she came back to be with him.

after all, she's the reason you're on medication and crunches. she got you shot twice, why would you want to be with her anyways? let alone talk to her.

wednesday addams was an emotionless black hole of trouble.

that's how you swallowed that bow and box to look at it.

that's how you managed to watch them sit together in now Ms. jekin’s (was ms. bandt's) botanical science class. In fact, that's exactly what you were doing now.

xavier had drawn a spider, snake, and a scorpion, all for wednesday who smashed them to dust in a 'playfully' way.

"glaring won't help." you turned to your seat-partner and roommate, bianca.

"i wasn't…” you trail off in defeat, if you didn't care so much why were you glaring.

envy started to come up.

✬

with your book-bag on your shoulders, you made your way to the quad with crunches at aid. you had no idea how damaging two shots to the abdomen could be, it'd been four months and you were still in a crippled state. well, you could've healed quicker if you didn't take up ajax's idea of ‘water wrestling.’ whatever the hell that was anyways.

cute but clueless, enid would call both of you.

you searched the quad for the pair in fact, only to find them seated with wednesday and xavier. of course your best friend had to date wednesday's roommate and friend. you could sit with bianca but you would spare yourself her judging siren friends.

maybe you could get away to your room.

"y/n!" or so you thought—

you stare as ajax, who waved you over with tense and bewildered gaze. enid definitely got that clueless part right—about both of you because you moved towards the table.

"sit down, idiot," the boy took your tray, sitting it next to xavier.

kill me—no, bury me alive. you thought.

you moved your crunches to one side of your body and took a seat, setting them on the ground.

the way you sat, you only could face ajax and enid.

"we're all going to jericho later and you're coming. no butts, ms. Crunches."

"i told you to stop calling me that, medusa."

"and I told you to stop calling me that." ajax attempted to throw a fry in your direction but you caught with your mouth.

“please do not throw food, the last time you guys did this I did not like how it ended." enid spoke of your mini food fight.

"it was one time!" your best friend defended.

the time went on in lunch and you wordless sat staring off. ajax was occupied with enid and it wasn't like you could talk to anyone else. You aimlessly scrolled through your phone for ten minutes, even checking enid's blog; where you quickly founded she wrote about xavier and wednesday.

you played anger birds for a bit but that got boring. You went into your text log, looking for anyone but you resurfaced your message to wednesday.

june 12th, the second last day of school, beginning of summer:

hey.

june 13th, the third day of summer.

how's thing? I miss him lol

how's ur novel going?

but none of those messages were to be responded or looked at all.

delivered. not even read.

you shuffle out the message, deciding to ultimately just click your phone off. you sat there now aimlessly staring around the quad, you still had fifteen minutes of this torture to sit through.

──────── dreading part two cos i hate writing wednesday dialogue

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ghostlystyles · 1 year

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𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

anthony lockwood x gn!reader

anthony lockwood can definitely be a drama queen

request: Hi, could you do an Anthony Lockwood x reader where the reader is extremely exhausted and ends up passing out during a mission and Anthony gets really worried about the reader? Thanks :D

tessa’s notes: thank you anon for sending in the first request i’ve ever gotten, i hope this is what you had in mind :)

warnings: fluff, swearing, blood, sleep deprivation, fainting, a bit of angst?, canon typical violence, comment if i missed any <3

word count: 1,5k

— YOU OPENED THE door of 35 Portland Row in the middle of the night for what had to be the twentieth time that month and saw a middle-aged couple standing on your doorstep. “Lockwood & Co?” the man asked. “Yeah, that’s us. How can we help you?” you yawned, leaning against the open door. “Our house is haunted and it’s keeping us up at night. We figured you might be able to help us.”

You led the couple towards the kitchen and made them a cup of tea. “Oi, get up! There’s people here!” you called and not long after your three friends joined you at the dining table.

“So, tell us about what’s haunting your house,” Lockwood started, placing his ankle on his thigh. He wore a black, graphic jumper, joggers and his hair was messy. Although liking it, you’d been begging him for months to lose the suit every once in a while and usually midnight was the only time you got to see it, so you couldn’t help but grin.

“Well— we don’t know. We know there’s two but we’ve never seen them, only heard,” the woman explained. “And what did you hear?” you asked, leaning your head onto your hands with your eyelids heavy.

“Just— knocks on the walls and, we constantly have this feeling of crippling anxiety and fear and— we always feel like we’re being followed,” the man answered in detail. “Okay, that sounds like a Type One, so you don’t have to worry. We could get the job done tomorrow evening.”

“We actually don’t have a place to stay, we assumed you could just get it done right away.”

“That— okay. It might be possible, but it will cost significantly more as it’s extremely last minute.”

“That would be great, thank you so much. Money’s not an issue, we’ll pay you any reasonable price.”

“I’ll have to discuss it with my partners, if you’ll excuse us,” Lockwood nodded professionally as the four of you got up and walked into the corridor.

“What do you guys think?” he asked. “I think I could do it, they’re only Type Ones,” Lucy shrugged. “Well, I’d prefer it if I had time to research, but I guess it could work,” George added, rubbing his eyes. “And you, Y/N?”

“I— yeah, sure. I reckon I just need a coffee and then we can get to work,” you yawned, leaning against the wall to support your legs. “You sure? You’re not sleeping well as it is and you’re starting to look like a ghost yourself,” Lucy frowned worriedly. “A friendly ghost, I hope, but it’s fine, it’ll earn us some good money,” you joked. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N, we should just tell them no,” George added. “Yeah, are you really sure? We can wait until the morning. We don’t owe those people anything,” Lockwood pitched in. “Yes, Lockwood! I promise it’s fine! It won’t take long anyway.”

— THE FOUR OF you slowly entered the house that belonged to the couple. “Lockwood and I will take the upstairs, you take the downstairs?” you whispered as you looked around cautiously. “You two gotta stick together, huh?” Lucy nudged you playfully. “Oh, fuck off,” you rolled your eyes with a smile. You always got the same response, but it just made sense. Lockwood had excellent Sight, and you were a pretty good Listener, George was average on all talents, but Lucy was an outstanding Listener.

“Does everyone have all their stuff?” Lockwood asked, with his hands in his pockets and you all nodded. “Okay, then let’s stop fucking around and get this done.”

Lockwood quickly walked up the stairs and you followed him, frankly a lot less quickly, as your limbs felt heavy on your body. “Y/N! You coming?” Lockwood stopped at the top of the stairs when he noticed you weren’t next to him anymore. “Yes, just give me a moment,” you muttered, stifling back another yawn. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Lockwood asked once more, his face coated in worry. “Yes, Lockwood, how many times? Just, stop worrying about me for a second!” you grumbled as you strolled further onto the first floor.

“I— Jesus, I was just making sure you weren’t gonna faint or something,” Lockwood muttered, slightly taken aback. "Wait, shh—," you whispered as you covered Lockwood's mouth with your hands. "I hear something."

You closed your eyes and focused, so you could hear the sound better. You heard the soft shuffling of bony feet and echoing sighs, but you couldn't quite tell where it came from. "I'm pretty sure it's a Stalker," you concluded. “Where is it?” Lockwood asked. “I don’t know… I can’t tell,” you said, you squeezed your eyes shut, but it felt like your head was stuffed with cotton. Likely because of the sleep deprivation, but you’d never admit that, of course. The two of you started walking in the direction of one of the rooms and warily looked around. You closed your eyes, but you’d lost the sound of footsteps.

“I think we chose the wrong direction,” you muttered and Lockwood nodded in agreement. You walked out of the room and back into the corridor, when you were suddenly overtaken by dizziness and a sick feeling. You halted for a moment and took a deep breath, but the feeling didn’t go away. Instead, black spots started filling your peripheral vision and slowly spread their way to the center of your gaze. “Lockwood… I don’t feel so good,” you trembled, before everything went black.

“Y/N!” Lockwood exclaimed as he heard your body collapse with the ground and he rushed over to you, cradling your face in his hands. “Y/N?” he croaked as he brushed your hair out of your face. After about half a minute, your eyes fluttered open and you saw Lockwood’s face hover over you. “Hi,” he gave you a watery smile and his expression shifted from anxious to relieved.

You slowly sat up and immediately felt like vomiting, as your limbs were aching and your head was pounding from the fall. “Hey, hey, slow down,” Lockwood whispered tenderly, “how are you feeling?”

“Everything hurts,” you said, when you felt something warm dripping down your cheeks. Lockwood’s gaze slightly shifted and he gasped when he saw the huge gash across your nose bridge. “What happened?” you winced, feeling the wound sting. “I don’t— you must’ve hit your head on the banister or something,” Lockwood worried with wide eyes, “we should take you to the hospital, that probably needs stitches.”

“No way! I’m not letting someone sew my skin like it’s a piece of fabric!”

“It’ll be okay, I promise. George, Luce and I wil be there the whole time and besides, it’s gonna leave one badass scar.”

— A TRIP TO the hospital and a fuckton of stitches later, Lockwood was carrying you bridal style down the streets of London. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone get this injured on a Type One mission,” Lucy chuckled. “Be nice to me Luce, I fainted and smacked my head into a banister,” you laughed, hitting her shoulder. “I suggest we all just listen to me next time, because I get really scared when people faint,” George sighed. “Oh, you should've seen Lockwood, Georgie. He looked at me as if I was dying.”

“Look, in my defence, I didn’t know what happened. For all I knew, you could’ve had a knife in your back and were slowly bleeding out,” Lockwood scoffed. “I’m just kidding, it was very sweet of you,” you reassured him as you patted his cheek. “You’re always so dramatic,” Lucy smiled, as she nudged Lockwood with her shoulder and he gave her a side-eye. “Anyway, when we get home, you’re going to bed and you’re not coming out of there until I say so,” Lockwood started, looking down at you, “and I’m going to find those people and try to rake up the price by a lot, so we don’t have to open the door in the middle of the night again.”

“That seems like a good idea, I’ll go with you,” George said and Lockwood nodded approvingly. “Why did it take me nearly perishing at the hands of a fucking banister for us to realise that taking clients in the middle of the night is a terrible idea?” you laughed loudly, throwing your head back. “Aha! So you do admit that you very nearly died and I have the right to be concerned about you and your well-being!” Lockwood exclaimed as he slightly swung you, making you scream and tightly hold onto him.

Lucy caught George’s gaze and shook her head with a smile, “we really should’ve waited until the morning.”

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missingkittyfan · 1 year

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YANDERE BARISTA OC X GN READER

warnings: yandere themes, mention of death (the loss of a family member), mentions of depressive episodes, obsessive thoughts, unhealthy mindset

Aaron let out a quiet sigh as he prepared the coffee for the customer, tiredly looking at the glass window - it's been a stressful day so far since he's been dealing with grouchy, unreasonable customers. Getting complaints about their drink not being done right even though he does it by order, making sure the ingredients are correct. He wished this shift could be over already, not really wanting to do anything else for the entire day. A lot of things were on his mind and he didn't know how to deal with this crippling loneliness ever since his mother had unfortunately passed away. Her death being for some reason unknown, no one really know what had happened to her exactly.

He walked over to the counter before setting down the warm cup of coffee down, glancing at the person and giving them a polite yet slightly strained smile. "Here you go, that will be $3.65." He stated, awaiting for their payment although the customer seemed to be- hesitant..? Aaron looked away for a moment as the two stood in silence. Finally, the male let out a nervous laugh as he scratches the side of his cheek. "Oh- err.. well, I- only have two bucks so.. maybe I can just give it to you now and next time give you the rest?" He replied, smiling awkwardly.

Aaron however wasn't amused, his smile twitching a bit but still tried to kept his composure.

"Ah- I'm sorry sir but that isn't.. allowed. You're supposed to pay full price now." he said, "I can just discard of the coffee and you can come back later and-" The man cuts him off by abruptly grabbing the cup, spilling some drops of coffee onto the counter. "Great! I'll see you tomorrow then. I promise to pay you later." With that the man exited the building leaving aaron with a baffled expression. He gritted his teeth, clenching his fist as he watched him leave. He was so close from just busting out of here and strangle him - dealing with parasitic people like him infuriates him. He hated his time being wasted.

He sighed, he shouldn't feel like this. Just one more hour and he'll be free to go! It's not like everyday this doesn't happen.

Aaron rested his arm onto the counter, almost hoping one person doesn't walk into here.

That was until his eyes lingered towards someone.

And that someone in question was you.

Of course usually he wouldn't focus on someone's appearance especially since he didn't quite have the luxury to focus on pursuing a relationship. He didn't really bother trying to. he thought himself as a unlovable person, likely to die alone and never having to live the life that he truly wanted. Not really having a goal and rather went with the ride.

It was sad, really - but he tried not fuss himself too much about it.

He continued thinking about what should he do besides laying onto the bed, feeling hopeless and miserable most of the time. The brown haired male watched you entering inside the café before giving him a warm.. smile.

A smile that he swore he felt his cheeks reddening up but brushed it aside and kept it professional as he greets you. "Hey, welcome! Is there anything I can get you on this fine afternoon?" He asked as you walked towards his direction, "Thank you and yes! I'm on my break so I would just like a iced latte, not really looking forward into eating something at the moment. Caffeine is all I need," you answered, laughing. "It's a slow tiring day don't you think? My dear co-worker has been kind of salty, giving me the cold shoulder. Some days aren't your day I guess!" You realized you were rambling, quickly becoming silent for a second. "Sorry- I've came here for a iced coffee not small talk .. I shouldn't put my problems on a hardworking barista like yourself, you seem tired and stressed even. Are you- okay?" You frowned, noticing the dark circles underneath his eyes. He looked like he hasn't been getting enough proper rest.

His eyes widen a bit, snapped out of his thoughts to realize your concern for him before shooting you a smile. "Ah- no no! it's fine, i'm fine.. I appreciate your concern. It's not often we get people like you so it's really.. refreshing. Thank you." he said, "I'll be on it now, don't wanna waste your time." He grabbed a plastic cup - preparing your drink as you patiently wait. You stared at the busy traffic in silence, watching few people on the sidewalk having a phone conversation.

He glanced at you for a moment, admiring your features. His lips curled into a slight smile, you were so sweet and graceful with your words and actions. Your charm beginning to draw him in, and yet- he didn't want to admit it nor deny.. but he knew for certain he was intrigued and wanted to know more about you. Wanted to know what's your name, your interests and dislikes.. and maybe more. "So, uh.. feel free to not answer but how come I've never seen you before? You look like a new face in town," he chuckled before muttering to himself. "A pretty one at that.."

You looked at him before a smile formed onto your lips once again, "Oh! Yeah- I've actually moved here a week ago believe it or not. It wasn't long before they had recommended this place that serves good coffee. The atmospheres looks so nice! I really love the aesthetic so I'm assuming they must be right after all." You replied, almost going on a tangent.

God your voice was soothingly pleasing to listen to, he could just hear you talk endlessly without getting tired of hearing it. You had such a way with words, he tried not to urge himself into trying to hear more from you after all you were just a customer. It would seemed weird if he had try getting more information as possible.. right? He wasn't that kind of person, if he wanted so bad to get to know you better he could actually just.. ask you if he can spend some time with you and not be creepy about it.. He didn't want to come off too strong already but.. this feeling, it was overwhelming and he couldn't get enough. He wanted more.

He wanted you. It was complicated and too much for him to take in.. is this what love actually feels like? The feeling of wanting to feel your embrace, your scent, and hearing his name flow off your tongue. If so, this felt amazing to him.

Aaron had finished making the iced latte, setting the cold drink down onto the counter. "That will be $4.65." He said before you nodded in response, taking out your wallet and placing the exact amount. He grabbed it from you and puts the cash into the cash register. "Thank you, I hope you enjoy your drink and have a wonderful day!" He smiled.

"You too!" You practically yelled, leaving the place as you took a sip of your coffee.

He placed his hand onto his cheek, watching you walk away out of view before coming into a realization. His smile slowly turned into a melancholic frown. "Ah- I haven't.. asked for their name." He sighed, "shit- why do I have to mess things up? I loss my chance.. what if they never come back again?" He looked down at the counter, staring into the reflection of himself. "I hope that's not the case.. I want to get to know them. I need to learn much more about them.." He said to himself. Aaron had himself found a new fixation, a goal.

And that goal was to make you fall over heels for him as much as he did for you - to make you his and him yours.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere oc #yanderecore #yancore #yandere original character #yandere imagines #yandere roleplay blog #oc x reader #oc #original character #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #x reader #reader insert #☕ oc: aaron

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theresattrpgforthat · 11 months

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THEME: Space and Stars

This week's themes are all loosely categorized under space, from space-westerns, to space-fantasy, to some games entirely within their own genre.

Boar Beasts on A Barbarous Planet, by Z.W. Garth.

Boar Beasts on a Barbarous Planet is a 2-page Push Powered roleplaying game of boarfolk warriors surviving on a planet of swords-and-lasers, covered in hostile biomes and littered with the sci-fi tech of planetary invaders who couldn't cut it in this harsh world.

Players take on the role of warriors dedicated to protecting their sounder from the many threats that plague them, in this harsh, psychedelic world.

Push games use an interesting 'push-your-luck' mechanic, in which your can choose to re-roll and add to your roll in order to make a "weak" success stronger - but roll too high, and you meet disaster. In my opinion, it's an SRD that feels a little over-looked in the indie scene.

This game is meant to be brutal and violent, on a world that is difficult to survive. Your characters enter the story battle-scarred, and will leave the story worse, possibly even dead. This looks to be a game that’s full of prompts and roll-tables, so if you like random generation, I recommend checking this one out.

From Out of the Boundless Deep, by Scyllaycs.

From Out the Boundless Deep is a two-player game about a mech pilot and an engineer working on the starship the Boundless. The game follows the pilot’s dangerous missions off the ship, the engineer’s meaningful repairs onboard the ship, and the brief moments the two meet between missions.

This game has two players, and no set GM. If you want to be a character who’s interacting with a dynamic set of stats and risky endeavours, you can pick up the Pilot. If you like building and modding things to set up the two of you for future challenges, then the Engineer might be more your style. The Game itself is split into two phases: Ship Phase and Mission Phase, with each phase giving the player a chance to shine. A Tarot Deck will be used to provide benefits and drawbacks throughout the course of play.

This is a game where you can really explore the conflict and community between two characters, in a situation where they can’t always communicate in a way they’d like. It doesn't demand an epic storyline but definitely has the space for it. This is also a great game for two people who have different and complimentary styles of play.

Dead Belt, by A Couple of Drakes.

Dead Belt is played by building a Belter and taking them out into the Belt to scavenge randomly-generated starships, using things you already have laying around: a six-sided die, a deck of common playing cards, and a few tokens of whatever sort happen to be close at hand.

With a dozen unique ship deck plans, over 100 flavorful prompts, and plenty of character stats to help you avert certain death, no two ships will ever feel the same. You’ll board these derelict starships, navigate barriers, dodge threats, monitor your air-supply, and salvage as you go.

You’ll deal with all the dangers lurking onboard these starships, push your luck, and finally return to spend your hard-won booty to secure better equipment, improve your skills, pay down your crippling debt, and hopefully, maybe, eventually set yourself up to live out your dreams far from the Belt.

There are three ways to play this game: Solo, Co-Op and Rivalry. This means that in a two-player game, you can choose to either work together or attempt to sabotage each-other in a race for pay. This game is an homage to Cowboy Bebop and similar Space Westerns, with a lot of tantalizing options designed for duet play.

Vaults of Vaarn, by graculusdroog.

Vaults of Vaarn is a 48-page, black and white tabletop RPG zine, which presents setting information, a full game system, and character creation procedure for adventures in Vaarn, a vast blue desert that lies at the very end of time. The game is built on the chassis of Knaveby Ben Milton, with lightweight rules, speedy character generation, and gameplay that emphasizes creativity and problem-solving on the part of players and referee.

This game setting feels like a space opera smashed together with acid fantasy, with bright colourful descriptions of strange monsters, NPC’s and locations. It is a dangerous setting that is designed to work with OSR games, primarily Knave but I have a feeling it would be pretty easy to steal ideas from this for other OSR systems as well. If you’re a fan of big space epics like Dune or weird futures like Numenera or Gamma World, this game is probably worth checking out.

If you want to see what the community has created for this setting, I recommend checking out the submissions to the Vaarn Summer Jam of 2022!

Nibiru, by Araukana Media.

Nibiru is a science fiction tabletop roleplaying game, set in a massive space station in a neighbouring solar system. Players take on the role of Vagabonds; people who woke up in the space station with no memories of their past.

Nibiru tackles themes of memory, nature and artificiality through simple mechanics, evocative art and immersive worldbuilding.

This is a game in which you create your character’s backstory as you play, filling in pieces of memory as you explore a space station filled with strange inhabitants and abandoned or deteriorating locations. The way you write about yourself will also fuel your character progression, with rewards for creativity and turning some of your memories into tools that you can use as you play. The setting is unique, evocative, and has a lot of potential to tell a compelling and heart-wrenching story.

If you want to see a bit of the game in action before buying it, there is a Quickstart Guide available on DriveThruRPG!

Other Space Recommendation Posts

Star Trek (and its sequel)

Space Adventures

Space Westerns

Space Fantasy

#game recommendations #space #sci-fi #science fantasy #indie ttrpgs #space western #tabletop games #dnd

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morallyinept · 8 months

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For anyone that needs to hear this, and I also just want to talk about this for a minute... or maybe several.

Back on the 29th April 2023, (I know, this year is going TOO fucking fast 😵‍💫) Pedro attended The Last Of Us For Your Consideration Event at The Director's Guild of America in Los Angeles, with his lovely co-star, Bella Ramsey.

The above video appeared by Deadline from the event, with Pedro explaining to Bella, after they queried, as to why he puts his hand over his stomach. "Do you know why? My anxiety's right there." He can be heard saying to them.

And the whole of Pedro's fandom fell in love with him all over again. I mean, you just would, wouldn't you? I know I did. 😍 What a man.

Why? Because he demonstrated that he's human. Relatable. Pedro recognised and embraced his vulnerabilities publically, and by doing so - whether he knew it or not - made everyone who has ever felt the crippling weight of anxiety crush them, feel seen and heard.

Back in 2019 Pedro said in an interview with The Guardian, "anxiety is something that I’ve lived with since I was a child, so it’s a part of my chemistry. I don’t know what kind of person I’d be without it. It’s something that I manage, but it’s also part of what makes me, me."

"I know that I have to put myself in high-stress situations to be happy. I mean, within reason. But there’s a certain level of anxiety that helps me do good work. It helps me be aware of the things I need to be aware of,” Pedro added.

So why does Pedro put his hand over his stomach/sternum area specifically? What is it about that pose? We often see him doing it, even dating as far back as 2005, so for almost 20 something years it's been a part of his red carpet and public appearances.

But what does it mean?

Well, putting your hand on your stomach/sternum area can symbolise many things if you scrutinise body langauge. I'm no expert, but I've worked in fields where I've had to study it and teach it, and it's really interesting at how much you give away about yourself to others in your body language, without even realising it...

Ever heard of WORDS, MUSIC, DANCE? 🎵🎶 In a nutshell (because I could totally talk your damn ear off about all this! 🤪) WORDS is what we verbally say, which is made up of only 7% of our communication. I know, small right? MUSIC is how we say it at 38%, i.e. the tone of our voice. Finally DANCE is our body language, which is 55%. Think about that for a sec. 55% of how you communicate with someone is without even opening up your mouth. 😳

Your stomach - or gut - is a very vulnerable part of your body; a lot of vital organs are smooshed up in there, so by placing a hand over it, you're protecting yourself from harm or attack. It's also a similar thing we do when we feel unwell or sick; we rub our tummy to feel better, right? It's an unconscious protecting motion that stems from our primal selves Think of the foetal position; you curl inwards towards your stomach. The abdomen walls contain significant muscles (some vital for our health ☝🏻) and we can carry tension in here too, so by 'holding' them or protecting them, we feel at ease within our core and can relax better. (#nerdalert 🤓 I love science!)

Some people do it as a means of comfort. Others do it purposefully. Pedro's stance is him possibly trying to rebalance himself. Focus on his breathing and stay grounded in the moments of utter chaos spilling out around him. He also breathes steadily in through his nose, deeply. You can see him do this in various clips, as well as in the one above. His shoulders drop back and you see him relax almost instantly when he does it. Deep breathing is another tactic that is known to keep anyone suffering from anxiety or panic, calm in the moment.

It's incredibly admirable for a man to expose such a personal vulnerability like that, especially in such a public forum. Sadly, mental health is still not a subject that is spoken about or advocated for enough, despite being in the 21st century. We're doing better as a society, but there is still much work to be done. As a man, it can still be seen as very 'unmasculine' or 'weak' to talk about it. So, I really admire Pedro's honesty and the fact that he feels confident enough in himself to recognise that he is just a human being, who sometimes goes through some shit.

Speaking out can only help those, who suffer too, feel validated and that they are not alone. And you're not alone. Anxiety is often stigmatised or not taken seriously, yet it can be terribly debilitating and can cause further issues such as panic attacks and lead to chronic depression if not addressed with help and support.

Pedro has always been open and forthcoming about his own anxiety, and has been quoted in several interviews talking about it, and on his - now deleted - Twitter/X account about how he deals with it.

As someone who has had their fair share of anxiety, I've personally found that meditation has helped me tremendously. 🧘‍♀️ Breathing exercises are really helpful and really do work. I use an app called Balance (not sponsored/affiliated with) and for 10 minutes a day (or whenever I need it) I can breathe, focus and come back to myself. I also find that doing something I really love, like reading (smut), or going for a long hike, really helps. Creative hobbies are brilliant for channelling that negative emotion into something positive. Singing off-key in the shower, dancing crazy like a loon - even though my neighbours can probably see me through the window headbanging in my pants 🤘🏻 - painting, drawing, writing, photography, cooking... These are all things I do myself and love, and would encourage you to try, if you're not already.

Hell, even whacking on your fav Pedro movie makes you feel good too, right? Name your favourite Pedro movie in the comments, GO! 🎬 Mine's Prospect, d'uh. 😏

It's said a lot, but hydrating really helps. Drink that water, bishes! 💦 And eat some greens. 🥦🥬🫑🍏 What you put into your body also helps into what you'll get out of it long term. Food is fuel. 💪🏻🧠 If you eat crap, chances are you're going to feel like crap, capiche?

And I cannot tell you how much a good night's sleep can really turn things around. As a chronic insomniac, sleep can often be the enemy, but it really is vital for your mental wellbeing to rest and switch off for a bit. So put down your phone and get some shut eye. (Ideal time for some hot, mustached Latino man dreams too... 🥲)

And failing that, talking to someone about how you feel can also help. 🗨 A family member, a trusted friend, your cat (personally I'm a dog person 🐶 Woof); a Tumblr mutual... My inbox is always open for a chat FYI. You'll never be judged in Jett's place. 🖤 I'll make you a figurative cup of green tea. Not literal, I mean, I'm not a fucking miracle worker... ✨️🧚‍♀️

What was the point of this long-ass ramble, Jett? I know, I hear ya, I hear ya...

So, to anyone out there who feels a tad (or a helluva lot) anxious from time to time, please know that you're not alone. And also remember to stop and take a moment; breathe deeply in through your nose and slowly out through your mouth three times. Do it with me now. One... two... three. There. You good?

And remember, more than anything, that you are more than enough. You're stronger than you think you are. Your anxiety doesn't define you, nor does it control you. It's just a little shit that likes to come out now and again and try to tell you that you suck. You really don't. (Unless your name is Max Phillips 🧛‍♂️) You've got this. Trust me. You've really got this.

And just like the rather fucking awesome Mr Pedro Pascal, you're fucking awesome too, babe. 🖤

🖤

#pedro pascal #anxiety #the last of us #jett has spoken #self care #joel miller #you're awesome #max phillips #bella ramsey #pedro pascal characters #ezra prospect #prospect film #we got this bitches #drink some water

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flatoutin-eaurouge · 1 month

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Kissing your tears away

Pairing: Mika Häkkinen x Michael Schumacher

This makkinen + first kiss prompt was brought to you by this very lovely anon 💕 Coincidentally the lovely @kimizilla also received an ask from the same anon for a makkinen + first kiss artwork! 😭🫶🫶 So we decided to do a co-project!!! 😍 matching fanfic and artwork is a dream come true! 😭😭

PLEASE CHECK OUT DAHLIA'S GORGEOUS ARTWORK 😍

Michael swallowed. There was something so adorable about a grown man lying in his bed in silken blue button-up pajamas, with his messy blonde hair and wet blue eyes staring up at the ceiling.

"Mika?" he asked carefully, afraid that the Finn didn't want to be seen or talked to. Afraid that he would be embarrassed by the way he was clutching his bedsheets in a white-knuckled grip.

Despite the fact that Michael was talking to him, Mika didn't avert his eyes from the pristinely white ceiling he was apathically staring at. "Are-are you going to leave me too?"

He sounded disappointed. Michael watched as tears crawled over the brim of the Finn's eyelids and tracked down his pale, porcelain skin.

He hopscotched the last few meters to Mika's bed and placed his scrutches against the nearest wall. He sat down and weaved his fingers through Mika's golden hair. Poor thing! He would love to keep him company until his last day in the hospital, but he couldn't.

"Not yet. Probably soon. Let's not think about that."

Mika's bottom lip started to tremble and the flow of tears cascading down his face increased. He twisted and turned in the bedsheets and curled against the German, pressing his tear-stained face in the soft material of Michael's hoodie.

Michael caressed his soft, blonde locks and threw him a rueful smile. "How is the pain this morning?"

"Un-fucking-bearable. Like always," the Finn mumbled in the thick textile of his hoodie.

"Mmm. Maybe we should go outside to distract you?"

"How? A crippling and a weakling? The blind leading the blind?"

"Well, maybe we can both use crutches for more balance."

Mika lifted his face from Michael's hoodie and scowled at him. "Brilliant idea. My arms are as weak as my legs so that must work out." He gave him a cynical thumbs up. "I feel like a rag doll."

Michael let his fingers adoringly trace his rival's cheekbones, wiping away his tears and chuckled. "You are a rag doll."

Mika had the guts to glare daggers at him through his tears. He grabbed Michael's wrist in a viselike hold. "Well, you are a nuisance!"

"You don't mean that."

"I do mean it if you call me a rag doll."

Michael stared at Mika. The man basically was a rag doll at this point. A gorgeous, handsome rag doll, but a rag doll none the less. His arms and legs had lost so much strength and his pajama seemed slightly over-sized due to the weightloss after weeks of hospitalization. They chose to make fun of it, throwing affectionate insults each other's way, but in fact there was nothing funny about it.

"Come on, Mika. Fetch a wheelchair. I can sit in it and you can lean on it, and then we take a very slow stroll towards the park."

Mika sighed. The pain in his head was torturing him, but he reckoned it was a good idea to distract himself from said pain. He pushed himself upright with a pained frown and reached for his pain killers. "Just give me a minute."

Michael watched as Mika took his pills. It was hard to process that after all these weeks after the crash, he was still dependent on them. Life was just so unfair.

"Alright, let's go." Mika got up to his feet and stumbled towards his own wheelchair. "Mine is closer by. I know they encourage you to use crutches, but we are not going to limp up and down the hallway to fetch one."

Michael watched amusedly as the pajama-clad, grumpy Finn put his slippers on and pushed the wheelchair into his direction.

"Don't you want to get changed first?"

"No, I don't care."

Michael shrugged as he sat down in the wheelchair. Typical Mika. "I think you're gonna have a problem with your nurse... but okay."

Mika released the brakes and started wheeling his co-patient onto the smooth waxed floor of the hospital hallway. His knees trembled and his arms shook, but he had decided for himself that this was going to be his first workout after the crash.

He stared at the mop of light brown curls in front of him and smiled fondly. "Are you comfy, Michael?"

"More than!" Michael turned around and was met with a warm, genuine smile that he hadn't seen in the days since he was administered to Mika's hospital room. It warmed not only his heart, but also his senses and the goosebumps on his skin.

Michael closed his eyes and reveled in that foreign, but very welcome, warmth. Until his ride came abruptly to a halt.

"What do you guys think you're doing?!"

A quite corpulent, stern nurse had put her foot in front of one of the wheels of the wheelchair. "Who told you it was a good idea to go outside on your own?"

"I did," Michael said resolutely. "Vitamins D for my pale Finnish roomie!"

Mika nodded in confirmation.

The nurse put her hands on her hips. "You..," she pointed at Michael, "...are not a medical specialist! Look at him!"

Michael turned around to look at the Mika, taking him in from head to toe. Very pretty! Was the only thing he thought.

"Yes like I said, he looks pale he needs his sunny vitamins!"

The nurse reached out to grab Mika's wrist and tried to wrestle his hand off of the wheelchair handle. "You need to rest! You're weak! It's too dangerous for you outside!"

Mika resisted when the corpulent nurse wrapped her arms around his slender waist and tried to drag him away from the wheelchair.

"No ma'am! I'm off the hook. Literally!" Mika reached for the wheelchair handles again, almost tripping over his unsteady legs. "I don't have to carry my IV-bag around anymore. I'm on pills now."

"Hey hey, don't wrestle with my patients!" A loud voice bellowed across the hallway.

An older man in a white lab coat with mischievous eyes and an amused grin on his face walked up to them and started to gently push the nurse away from the disgruntled Finn.

"I can imagine they go insane between these walls. Let's give them a little bit of freedom. If they feel too weak they will find out soon enough."

Michael nodded and pointed at Mika. "Don't worry. If you let us, I will not leave his side. I will protect him at all costs. Right, Mika?"

Mika rolled his eyes at his German co-patient.

"Alright, but no longer than an hour and a half!" the nurse barked at them.

Michael set a timer on his watch. "Promised."

"Do you think she means an hour and a half and then go back or does she mean be back in an hour and a half?" Mika mumbled as he rolled Michael over the pavement outside the hospital.

Michael chuckled. "In my honest opinion, I think you should not try her out! She seems very strict."

"She is! Even more so than Ron Dennis!"

Michael turned around to look at Mika and smirked. He could picture that nurse wrapping Mika in a straight jacket to keep him from wandering around in the hospital. "That's good. Someone stubborn like you needs a strict nurse!"

"Michael!" Mika shook the wheelchair making Michael giggle even more. "That nurse said going outside is dangerous for me! You told me to go outside. You are the bad influence!"

"I was only joking, Mika." Michael wanted nothing more than to get up from the wheelchair and walk next to Mika so he could see his sweet face turn into a disgruntled frown everytime Michael was riling him up.

Michael could read people very well. He would never make fun of Mika when he was in pain, but right now the pain killers were doing their job and Michael thought a bit of light, friendly banter would be a good change of topic for the Finn. Not the heavy tearjurker kind of stuff.

Mika grabbbed a strand of Michael's soft, curly hair and tugged. "Still a nuisance!"

"And you are still a rag doll."

As they entered the park, Michael could feel Mika was tired. The speed and smoothness of his wheelchair steering had diminished the closer they had gotten to the green lawn.

"Why don't you say anything?"

"Hmm? What do you mean?" Mika leaned forward to look over Michael's shoulder.

"About you getting tired? It's important to let me know! I can feel it in your handling of the wheelchair."

Mika sighed. "I am shaking all over to be completely honest with you. But it's no point to whine about that. I need to improve my stamina and strength."

Michael reached out to grab Mika's shoulder. "Come here. Let me look at you."

Mika stopped the wheelchair next to a big tree that shielded them against the blazing Australian sun and put in on the brakes.

He collapsed to his knees with an exhausted sigh and wrapped his arms around his shaking body. His face looked pale and was covered with a fine sheen of cold sweat. "Perkele, I hate this!"

"Oh Mika, you look like death warmed over! Again, why didn't you say anything?!"

Michael carefully slid out of the wheelchair and sat down next to the Finn with his casted leg stretched out in front of him.

"I didn't want to come across as a wuzz!" he replied as big tears started to roll down his cheeks. "Great! And now I am crying too!"

He covered his face with his hands and started sobbing quietly. "First, my mom leaves me and in a few days you will leave me too, and I am still a fucking wreck!" His shoulders shook violently. "This is the first time I get to be outside and now I am tired and in pain!"

Michael scooted closer to the desperate Finn and enveloped him in his arms. "Oh poor Mika! Mein Hübscher!"

He caressed Mika's shuddering spine and startled when he found out he could count all his ribs one by one. "Verdammt, you are skin and bones! I will make sure the hospital staff will give you some proper nutricious food!"

Mika pressed his face in the crook of Michael's neck and sobbed. "I need my pills. My head hurts so much!"

Like yesterday, Michael's hand raked through Mika's hair, stroking the soft, golden locks, and letting them flow through his fingers. He was pleasantly surprised by how long the Finn's hair had gotten, and he was suprised by how much he adored it on him.

"You think I'm malnourished. Now I know why you call me a rag doll!"

"Sssshhh, Mika. Take deep breaths. You don't look like a rag doll."

Mika lifted his face from Michael's shoulder and pouted at him. He was in shambles. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were red and burning. A gleam of a crying-blush that contrasted enormously with his pale countenance.

Michael's heart banged against his sternum. He took a deep breath himself. Goosebumps formed on his skin. He wanted to protect this beautiful human being at all costs.

His fingers felt for scars hidden underneath Mika's thick mop of hair. He thought of the appendicits-scar underneath Mika's pajama shirt - still fresh after a few weeks, and could see the little dimple in Mika's throat, giving away where the medics had cut his throat to help him breath on that awful day in November.

He reached out to touch that small, teeny-tiny imperfection on Mika's otherwise smooth and even skin.

Mika recoiled and grabbed Michael's wrist in an instant. "Don't touch it," he said with an unsteady voice.

Michael startled heavily and quickly retrieved his hand. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Does it still hurt?"

Mika shook his head. "No, but touching it brings back memories I would like to forget."

Michael placed his arm back around Mika and pulled him closer. He caressed his cheek with the back of his hand.

"I hate it so much!"

"Sssshh, don't hate it! Why don't you see it as something positive?" Michael reached out again - seeking for permission and receiving it hesistantly - and touched the scar again. This time more carefully.

"This tiny flaw in your skin has saved your life!"

"Don't you think it's ugly?"

"Ugly?! Do I need to wash you mouth with soap?" Michael replied sternly.

Mika blinked at him in confusion.

"Nothing about you is ugly! Don't even dare say that again!" Michael's hand shot down to caress Mika's appendicits-scar over the fabric of his pajama shirt. "This one saved your life too."

Mika stilled in appreciation and stared at Michael through his tears. "Why are you being so kind to me?"

Michael swallowed. He stared into Mika's beautiful blue eyes, then at his adorable pink lips. He caressed a strand of blonde hair from his face. "Maybe I am kind to you because you've always been kind to me." His fingers stroked the line of Mika's jaw tenderly. "Maybe I am kind to you because you look so much like an angel I need to please."

He sighed in adoration when he saw a deep red blush adorning Mika's once so pale cheeks.

"Maybe I am kind to you because that little dimple in your throat and your crooked smile are so beautiful to me."

Mika smiled at him through his tears.

It was truly a captivating sight. His rueful smile looked like a sunrise after days of rain. It looked like a spring day after a months-long winter.

Michael's hand tightened gently around Mika's jaw as he angled the Finn's face a little upward. His other hand buried itself in Mika's soft, wavy hair. He stared at those pretty lips again, as his heart skipped a beat.

Then he kissed him... he kissed him as gently as if he were made of porcelain. His soft lips left nothing to the imagination as to how delicate he was. It was seriously like he was kissing an angel. No matter how gentle the kiss was, it set the goosebumps on his skin on fire. His cheeks burned with desire for his secret love. Mika Pauli Häkkinen, ich liebe dich!

Mika's eyes grew wide when he felt Michael's lips on his own. The kiss came as a complete surprise to him, but not a hair on his head thought about recoiling or resisting. Quite the opposite actually... Mika melted against Michael's frame as the German deepened the kiss and stroked his skillfull fingers through his luscious, golden hair.

It was unlike any of the kisses he had ever shared with a girl. Michael's lips were stronger and more demanding. The sensation send a wave of heat through his nerves and filled his fatigued body with a new kind of energy.

Michael's arms wrapped more tightly around his angel. He didn't want to let go. Here, underneath the canopy of the giant tree, without the press lurking around, he could pour all his love into this single kiss.

When they parted, Mika stared at Michael with a glazed look. His cheeks a brilliant shade of red. "Michael..." He swallowed audibly.

"That was... that was..."

A pause.

He wiped his tears away. "So how do we get back to the hospital in time now?"

Michael stared at the Finn fondly and caressed one of his rosy cheeks with his thumb. "What do you mean, mein Hübscher?"

"Well, I was shaking all over from exhaustion when we arrived. Now I am shaking all over for different reasons."

#makkinen #mika häkkinen #michael schumacher #mika hakkinen #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1fanfic

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resowrites · 1 year

Text

The Trees - oneshot.

Summary: A walk in the woods takes an unexpected turn for Henry and his gf…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Girlfriend!OC

Warnings: adult themes, angst, relationship difficulties, dialogue heavy, language, mentions of parental loss/relationship breakdown/su!c!de attempt/appetite loss/panic attack/grief, pregnancy loss, child abuse, fluff, pet names, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 2936

A/N: Welp, this was meant to be uploaded ages ago but the themes and my crippling brain fog (yay) meant it took forever. Take care with this one. I’ve tried to write as carefully/sensitively as I can, but please heed the warnings or skip if you’re unsure (your wellbeing is more important). As ever, please enjoy and let me know your thoughts - R x

My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

The Trees - oneshot.

"How about some toast?"

"I'm good, thanks love."

"Why don't you have some fruit then? Or I can make you a smoothie?" Henry began scanning the fridge for other ideas.

"Honestly, I'm not hungry—"

"You have to eat darling—"

"Please can I go back upstairs? I've got so much work to get through…"

"In a little while, we can go sit in the living room if it's more comfortable but you're at least going to have some tea and rest for a bit. Come on." He gently tried to herd her out of the kitchen.

"… I'm gunna go for a walk."

"What? Ollie come back here, you're exhausted—"

"Just for a little while alright? I can't sit around and do nothing." She stopped by the front door and wound a thick scarf twice around her neck.

"But sometimes you have to do that, or—"

"Or what?"

"Darling, you're not sleeping, you're not eating—"

"Henry, I'm just a bit stressed with work, that's all. I'll be back in half an hour."

"Well, wait I'll go with you, you're not going into the woods by yourself—"

"It's fine, I'll take the dogs. Don't you have meetings?"

"My next one's not for another hour and I took the dogs out earlier so we can leave them here." But Copper was already sitting by her feet, her head tilting in confusion.

***

"She's a cheeky little bugger, every morning now she sits waiting by the front door for walkies." Henry chuckled.

"She's getting so big..."

"Tell me about it, soon she'll be jumping up into the airing cupboard like Kal. You know I found the little shit in there again this morning? Can't really blame him with weather like this though, it's brass monkeys. Are you sure you're warm enough?" She hummed back but otherwise, his attempt at conversation had fallen flat. She was still walking slightly ahead, lost in her own thoughts. He tried again. "So what's going on with work at the moment? I thought you were over the first couple of hurdles?"

"Freelancing's not that straightforward, unfortunately."

"Well is it anything I might be able to help with?"

"It's lovely of you to offer but I'll be alright. There'll be other contracts if I don't secure this one."

"That'a girl… how are you feeling at the moment though? In yourself, I mean?"

"Okay."

"Really?"

"Yeah, so what's your meeting about this afternoon?"

"Don't change the subject, Ollie—"

"I'm not—"

"Then can you tell me how you are?" She sighed and stopped abruptly.

"I just did!"

"Well I heard you on the phone this morning—"

"You were listening to my call?"

"No, I just heard the end of it when I came upstairs. Did your therapist need to change your appointment?"

"No, that wasn't them. They've… referred me to someone else."

"What, why?"

"Cos we're not a good fit." Henry waited for her to continue but instead, her eyes remained fixed on the floor. He tried another tack.

"Before I forget, your sister also rang me. She tried to get through but you must have still been on the phone. Your father's funeral is next week, do you think you're up to going?"

"No."

"Well, shall we wait and see how you feel?"

"No, I'm not going."

"Why not? It might help you start drawing a line under everything—"

"Henry, my mother doesn't really want me there, she just can’t get away with not asking."

"Well fuck what she wants, you need the closure—"

"There's no such thing."

"Of course there is—"

"No, there isn't. That's not how real life works." Henry waited a beat before responding.

"You know you can talk to me about him?"

"Henry, I said I'm okay—" he stopped finally and waited for her to do the same.

"No you're not, you've not been right for months. You've not even been eating properly since December. I'm really worried Ollie. I want us to get married in the spring, start planning for the future—" something then clicked in her mind.

"Wait, what did my sister tell you?"

"What?"

"What did she say, Henry?" Her voice had risen in alarm.

"Darling, it was nothing I didn't already suspect—"

"So you know everything? Henry, it was a long time ago, I was desperate—"

"Ollie what are you talking about? We discussed your father but that was it—"

"No, no this can't be happening…" she clasped the sides of her head in shock.

"Whoa, you're alright, look at me." She struggled to stay standing. "Ok, let's find somewhere to sit, come on." Fortunately, they were nearing the wood’s halfway point, which was marked by an old wooden bench. Henry was relieved to see it was empty and promptly sat her down. "There, now. Take some deep breaths darling, slow down for me. Just focus on my hand." He continued rubbing her back until her breathing came under control. She managed to fight off the attack, but only just.

"Can we… go home, please?" Henry pulled a water bottle from his pocket and helped her drink from it.

"Let's stay here for a bit, just until you're steadier on your feet." The next few minutes passed uneasily. "I really wish you'd unburden yourself though—" she scoffed and staggered upwards, turning to face him directly.

"So I can burden you instead?"

"Ollie sit back down. There will never be anything you can't tell me—" but she cut him off.

"Well thanks to my sister, I now don't have a choice, do I? God, I can't believe this..." she wearily took a seat, holding her head in her hands for several moments. "Fine. If you really want the truth I'll give it to you." When she finally spoke again, both her eyes and voice were strangely flat. "My last fiancé and I didn't mutually split. He just woke up one day and decided he wanted out. There were no signs, there wasn't even anyone else, he just didn't love me anymore. It was like the sky had fallen in. The pain was just… indescribable. He loved me like no one ever had before and as the days started to blend together I became convinced that it would always end that way, that the fundamental problem was me. I mean if my own father could stop loving me, what hope would there be for any other man?

"One night, a couple of months after we split, I woke up with what I thought at first was just a stomach ache. How I kept it together in the taxi I'll never know. I vaguely remember bleeding as I walked into A&E but the rest is just a blur of pain and vomit. Before I know it, I'm in a hospital bed being told I lost a sixteen-week pregnancy. I was just so… stunned. I kept asking the doctor to repeat himself. I mean you know what my periods are like and to be honest, by that point I'd already lost most of my sense of time. I hadn't had a single symptom, not one," she paused, "they couldn't tell me if it was a boy or a girl. I asked if I could at least say goodbye… they advised against it. After that apparently, I just kept screaming," she swallowed hard, "the nurses felt so sad for me.

"I remember before I was signed out, one of them asked if my partner was on his way to collect me. I just lied and said yes. She then said to me, 'remember you can always try again,'" she quickly cleared her throat to disguise her voice breaking, "I didn't tell my sister what happened. She pulled up outside my place, made me promise to call her later on and when I got out of the car I realised I was supposed to be getting married that day. I don't know, something inside of me finally just snapped. I don't remember much of what happened then either. One minute I was in my bathroom, and the next I was back in the hospital being told I'd suffered minor organ damage. If my sister hadn't stopped by when she did, worried why she hadn't heard from me, I probably wouldn't have survived.

"Eventually, she managed to convince them to let me leave so I could stay with her. She lives on a beautiful street, lined with cherry blossom trees. My nieces greeted me at the door excitedly, even the sky was bright blue that day. But I never felt more lost and alone than at that moment. In the end, my sister had to take six months off work to care for me, and that combined with the strongest medication my doctor could prescribe, only just helped me pull through. A year later Clare dragged me to that party and… there you were. I wanted so badly not to like you—" she finally broke down, her exhausted sobs splashing tears all over her lap. For her sake, Henry held back his own. Up to that point, he'd resisted interrupting or touching her, but he couldn't bare it any longer. He cupped her face firmly with both hands.

"Ollie, do you love me?"

"More than anything. It's why I proposed. I wanted to do everything with you—"

"Then that's all that matters—" she pushed his hands away.

"No, because we're not equals in this relationship Henry, we never have been and we never will be."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," she sighed, "you could have literally anyone…" she trailed off, defeated for the moment.

"… You know, when I spoke to your sister, she told me how one night you were late back home from playing with your friends so you hadn't yet done your homework. Your father then locked you out in the back garden for the rest of the night. She said you didn't ask her or your other sister for help because you didn't want to get them in trouble too. You just stayed out there all alone, in the freezing cold. And I wondered to myself, how many times you've felt like that little girl ever since, even in this relationship—"

"Henry—"

"She told me she suspected other things happened as well, stuff she couldn't bring herself to talk about."

"You weren't supposed to know any of that!"

"Why not?!"

"Oh God…"

"Ollie please, it's okay—"

"How? How can any of this be okay?!" Her face was so distraught, his stomach sank. He rubbed his eyes.

"… This is my fault. If I hadn't been away so much, kept you closer, none of this would have happened—"

"No, please, this isn't on you—"

"I even bought you the puppy and the cottage because of how guilty I felt!"

"But the distance worked for me too! I could get attached to you but not completely. It felt safer."

"And now?"

"Now it all just… hurts." Henry grabbed her hands.

"Ollie, whatever happened before doesn't change anything. I'm here, alright? You're safe now—"

"Except I don't think I'll ever feel that way completely—"

"I'll still be here—" she flew up from the bench and started pacing, her tears flowing freely once more.

"No, no. You deserve better. Someone who's sunny, healthy… as successful as you. For fuck's sake I don't even come from a normal family. When I walked out in December, it was because I felt I had to. I will always want what's best for you and… I know that doesn't include me." He dashed forwards, clamping her shoulders to keep her still.

"Do you think when we first met, I couldn't see the pain in your eyes? I also saw the decency, the humanity - I knew you weren't playing hard to get for the sake of it in the same way I knew you'd never hurt me deliberately. Let's go to therapy together—"

"You don't have to do that—"

"But I want to! I haven't done enough and you are so worth fighting for - we are worth fighting for. I love what we have because it's real and that's so, so rare Ollie." Her head fell to her chest.

"The doctor who spoke to me earlier was a trauma therapist. I was praying they'd tell me I didn't need their help. The worst of it is, I always thought I was a strong person. What I experienced wasn't even unusual. I mean people fall out of love, lose babies, have breakdowns, every single day. And it all could have been so much worse. But it still nearly destroyed me. I just can't go through any of that again."

"… Did you give your baby a name?"

"No, no… it didn't go that far. I couldn't let it. But in my head, I still talk to her sometimes. I don't know why I imagine her as a girl, it's just what feels right. It's incredible really, she would have been no bigger than the palm of my hand but the love that you feel… the longing." Her voice caught in her throat. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't intend to tell anyone. I just thought that if I failed in her life, I could at least protect her in death—"

"You didn't fail anyone—" he quickly stopped himself and instead pulled her into his arms. "I love you, Ollie."

"I love you too."

***

Two weeks later.

"Mmm it's warm out there today, look at that sky." Henry slid the cup along the counter. Ollie glanced up briefly from her laptop and hummed. "Why don't we take our coffee outside?" To his surprise, she stood up from her chair.

"That sounds nice." Henry smiled and led her into their garden, with Kal and Copper following closely behind. What she didn't expect to see, opposite the bench that was tucked away in her favourite spot, was a newly planted cherry blossom tree. He sat her down carefully, waited for the dogs to lie down beside her, and then went to fetch something from the base of it. When Henry joined her again, he was holding what looked to be a clear container.

"I've planted this tree so that, every time you miss your daughter, you can come out here and spend some time with her." He carefully removed a small notepad and pen from the container. "And whenever you need to talk, you can write it in here, put it in the box and leave it by the tree for her." She was so overwhelmed at first she couldn't even look at him. When she did, tears spilled down her face.

"I… I don't know even know what to say… I can't thank you enough. Not just for this, but for everything—"

"You will never need to thank me, darling, ever." She chose her next words carefully.

"I know I've struggled to tell you often enough, let alone show you how much I appreciate it, but you're a good man. The best I've known. And just because she was my first," she glanced towards the tree, "it doesn't mean she has to be my last."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, it might be difficult—"

"Then I'll do everything I can to make it easier."

"... You know I'd marry you right now if I could?"

"Then why don't we?"

"What?"

"Well, why not?"

"But... I'm not even dressed nicely!"

"Stop it, you've never looked more beautiful. Right, we've got the dogs as witnesses so come on," Henry gently pulled her to her feet, "let's get straight to it."

"Are you sure? Everything's already been arranged?" His heart lept at her playful smile. How he'd missed it.

"That one's for the well-wishers, this is just for us. Are you ready?" She smiled and nodded. "Good. Then I, Henry Cavill, take you, Ollie Hadden, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I will love and honor you all the days of my life." Henry removed the promise ring from her right hand and slipped it onto her ring finger. She swallowed back her tears, smiling.

"And I, Ollie Hadden, take you, Henry Cavill, for my lawful Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I will love and honor you all the days of my life." She then moved his promise ring to the correct hand. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Henry brushed the tears off his cheeks, "that's just the first time you've called me your husband." They beamed at each other and finally kissed. In the end, he didn't know how long they'd stood holding each other, but when he glanced down, she was gazing at the tree.

"When you're ready, come inside and I'll make you some lunch." Henry then kissed the top of her head and disappeared into the house with both dogs trailing after him.

She took a seat on the bench, picked up the notebook, and wrote several lines. When she was finished, she carefully put the container back in the same spot. It was when she glanced up that she noticed small buds on the tree. Soon they'd be open and before long the garden would be strewn with blossom. She couldn't think any further ahead but for the moment she didn't need to. For once her mind had fallen silent and she was content to rejoin her husband.

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#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine

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generalluxun · 19 days

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Based on their season 1 (Primarily) and season 2/3 (if you desire it) characterization. How do you think the characters and story of ML would develop had Marinette developed a crush on Chat & Adrien a crush on Marinette?

My thinking, taking out any given issues with the shows handling of the characters and just what I think makes sense for them based on extrapolation feels:

Ladybug is definitely a bit more overtly "Adorkable" in the publics eye, but the danger of the situation does stop her from stumbling over herself as much as Marinette did with Adrien. She is far more likely to be pushing for secret ID reveals, but probably through hints over overt action.

Adrien is not as forward with Marinette as he is as Chat with Ladybug. Even ignoring the Chat persona being an exaggeration, he also has his reputation and ingrained habits to think of. But Nino did ask him for date advice so I think he'd make more overt attempts at wooing her & probably push harder on Chloe to be nicer.

Gabriel probably hates this and may be stumping harder to yang Adrien out of school, which could force Adrien to be more quiet about his interest as well.

Chloe is... Not having a good time. Regardless of whether her feelings for Adrien are romantic, platonic, confused cos of sexuality or the like. He matters to her a lot but right after arriving at school is not only putting a lot of distance between them but seemingly holding their friendship for ransom to earn the approval of a girl Chloe has issue with.

Okay so thought about this:

Ladybug falls for Chat in Origins when he rushes in to defend her during one of her initial panic/what is happening moments. She's reminded of being protected by Socqueline (Derision is not canon, ever, but we can repurpose bits of it) She had resigned herself to being 'on her own' after her friend graduated (not expelled) now, here is someone else making her feel *safe* even in mortal peril.

She's still Ladybug, she's still the leader. She is very focused on 'protecting her protector' though. He's *her* kitty. If only he could be in more ways than are allowed...

She'll push Fu to include him more, she'll pay more attention and push to be her best self. Her plans will be a little less effective, like in Kuro Neko she's focusing too much on her partner. It won't be crippling though, but it hints at what she needs to work on.

Now on the second day when Adrien shows up, things go differently. Let's give the Limo a flat so he shows up without Chloé. The world is a bit spookier, are monsters common? He's nervous. He drops his books, and someone stoops to help him pick them up and their heads bump.

'oh ouch sorry. Here let me...' sure hands ruffle through hos hair, checking for an injury. Adrien looks up and *cue music* Marinette.

She's already set on being her 'best self' to live up to her Perfect Pawtner. So helping the new kid around? That's just what she should do!

On Adrien's end though he can't help but marvel at how much she reminds him of his mother(hear me out) He's been adrift since her disappearance. His father is distant, Nathalie is cold, and even though Chloé cares she's a hurricane in a ponytail. Marinette;leading him to the classroom, showing him his seat, and giving him tips, makes him feel *safe*. (Woo parallels!) He falls hard and fast.

He becomes a Marinette stan, furst to support her. First to go the extra mile. Talking her up and excited to see what she will do next. Every step she takes to be the 'everyday Ladybug' only males him fall harder. The 'weakspot' he has to work on is how completely uncritical he is, after all his mother could do no wrong! He doesn't make the conscious connection, but he treats Marinette the same. She's not a memory of a mother though, she's a living breathing 14yr old. She will and should make mistakes. Adrien discounts them too much, excusing/rationalizing/redirecting her shortcomings which actually inhibits her growth. 'I was wrong' is something everyone needs as a part of their life.

Chloé is in fact having a bad time(maybe?) she can't bully or daddy her way out of this. Adrien gushes about Marinette and Chloé's initial 'ewww' turns him instantly cold (only briefly though) but it is a warning. If she wants to win she has to *beat* Marinette. She needs to be better, smarter, stronger, she can't fake it. She has to compete and win! Hijinks/rivalry ensues (Marinette isn't competing for Adrien, but the chance to show up Chloé is cathartic as heck!)

What's fascinating is how various other things will shake out. Chloé's 'daddy' goes unused, most people get ignored. She can't push and shove her way out of this. Alya has to listen to Marinette gushing about Cat Noir (she knitted herself a pawprint sweater that she sleeps in, but she has to keep fangirling on the down low in public so she doesn't clue in whoever CN really is!) Nino's crush on Marinette is DoA. Do he and Alya still get together? Adrien's in Nino's ear about Mari every day.

Does Alya pull Chloé aside and say 'wtf are you even doing?' emboldened by the blonde's shift from dominance to competition. Foes Sabrina branch out, being Chloé's 'trainer' for a myriad competitions. She(they) could come into contact with a lot more people.

It's a whole AU in the making.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #asks #ml au

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zsakuva · 24 days

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i’m a bit surprised sussy baka (don’t look at me rn) is higher than rowan’s listener… is there something we don’t know 👀 alsoalso how come pickle is lower than love and darling? i kind of get love, but pickle and darling give me similar vibes in terms of ‘greenness’…

last question! do you also do wholesome videos on your patreon? i’ve been considering subscribing but i’m not sure what’s exactly on there~

I categorise both characters and listeners depending on their beliefs, ideologies, and ability to deal with different circumstances rather than what they've already done.

For example, Sussy Baka is higher than Rowan's listener because, for the most part, he is quite independent and has a good head on his shoulders. His past actions riddled him with guilt, and compelled him to not only apologise, but to make amends. A red flag could be recklessness for contacting Danny without Niall's knowledge. It could also be his desperation. But despite his obvious carelessness and mistakes back in high school which he's acknowledged, Sussy Baka seems to be a decent guy. Rowan's listener is crippled by their own inner turmoil. They are filled with fear, anxiety, and feel worthless. If faced with certain situations, these can compound into much bigger problems. A red flag could be seeking external validation and assurances constantly. Another could possibly be co-dependency if they can only rely on Rowan; if it worsens, this could develop into hypervigilance towards anything that threatens their relationship.

There is so much I have yet to explore with many listeners, but much will also remain a mystery~

#zsakuva #sakuverse #audio roleplay #boyfriend audios

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thetruthwilloutsworld · 7 months

Text

The Scotsman interview 10 September 2023

Outlander star Sam Heghan has revealed he is ready for the "next challenge" when he finishes working on the hit show - and suggested it may involve scaling Mount Everest.

Writing in a new version of his first memoir, Waypoints, the Scottish stage and screen star revealed he has been pitching the idea of a TV documentary which would see him follow in the footsteps of the British explorer and mountaineer George Mallory.

He made three expeditions up the world's highest mountain in the 1920s but disappeared during the third along with climbing partner Andrew Irvine in 1924. Although Mallory's body was eventually found 75 years later, the mystery of whether he reached the summit has never been resolved.

Heughan was previously due to star alongside Ewan McGregor in a feature film recalling the race to conquer Everest in the 1920s, however, the project which was due to start filming last year never got off the ground.

Heughan started working on Outlander 10 years ago and seven series of the show have been made to date. An eighth and final series has been commissioned, although filming has been delayed to the writers' strike which has crippled Hollywood.

Heughan has already starred in Men in Kilts, an American documentary series following the actor and his Outlander co-star Graham McTavish around Scotland. A second series was made in New Zealand.

Waypoints, which followed Heughan as he walked the West Highland Way, was described as a "journey of self-discovery" as the actor, who was brought up in Dumfries and Galloway and Edinburgh, recalled the pivotal points in his life.

In a new final chapter of Waypoints, the 43-year-old actor revealed how completing his book had felt "like the end of the first chapter of his life and the beginning of a second."

He writes: "I'm nearing the end of my time on Outlander-eight seasons and ten years' of shooting - and the show has really shaped who I am.

"It has given me great opportunities and valuable experience that I can build on moving forward"

"I'm excited for the future. but it feels vitally important to acknowledge where I've come from"

"I would be where I am today with my past successes and (multiple!) failures"

"As a young man, I dreamed of working in the acting industry and being well-respected. It's certainly a dream come true and now I'm ready for the next challenge"

"A dream of mine has been to see the highest mountain in the world"

"I wrote in Waypoints about the Everest movie project that fell through and was disappointed I never made it to Nepal"

"However, more recently, I have been pitching a TV show that follows that dream (and the footsteps of George Mallory) from the UK to the Himalayan plateau and the slopes of Everest"

"Perhaps, If I'm lucky enough and dream hard enough I may yet find myself on the slopes of 'Chomolungma,' the earth's highest mountain"

"However, this time I'll be better prepared and ensure I'm not walking alone (and carrying plenty of snacks!)."

Instagram theoutlanderlounge

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poetry-protest-pornography · 5 months

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This is why I think @befuddledcinnamonroll and @heretherebedork are right about the tone of the show being set by Jade's self-image:

Everyone else is chill. They're interested in potential gossip, but they're skeptical. They look at Jade like he's being weird, because he is.

I cannot even begin to explain how freaking weird Jade is being in this scene. But everyone else is going on about their day, like there isn't a grown man biting his finger and draping himself over the railing while staring at his co-workers and mentally planning their wedding. I have to (for my own crippling second hand embarassment-anxiety, HAVE TO) imagine that this is all happening in Jade's head, and he isn't melting and doing all the things we romance and fic readers have trained ourselves to do internally so we can read about our faves in public.

So, really, it only makes sense that this show's tone is set by Jade's internal sense of self when he's on screen, because the few scenes that aren't centered on him don't carry the same over the top, cartoonish comedic tone.

And, every time Mai flirts with him -- so like, everytime they interact -- he has a moment where he lets it happen, and he enjoys it, and lets himself feel his own attraction before he remembers that he isn't supposed to like Mai.

Anywhoodle, this is all to say that I hope that he finds some chill, because he's stressing me tf out.

#middleman's love

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cherienymphe · 2 years

Text

The Hills XIII (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, blackmail, forced relationship, toxic relationship, underage drinking,

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ Well, this is it! I thought I’d need 2 more chapters, but turns out I didn’t. I had so much fun with this series, and I was so happy with all of the positive reception! To many more Rafe fics in the future!

➥ series masterlist

summary: Unable to watch JJ look at someone else the way you wish he’d look at you, you start to distance yourself from the Pogues. In an effort to numb the pain, you make a drunken mistake, but nothing is coincidental, and you learn better than anyone that Rafe Cameron always gets what he wants.

JJ liked you back.

Despite what had taken place after that reveal, you couldn’t focus on anything but that. Even now, you barely registered the feel of Rafe’s hand on your throat as he snorted small white lines off of your chest. JJ liked you back, and somehow you felt like the stupidest girl in the world.

The knowledge that all of this could have been avoided if you’d just talked to him was crippling. Still, you had been so sure about everything, but somehow, once you started talking about it out loud with him…you felt silly. There was this hollow feeling in your chest that didn’t even compare to the hurt you thought you’d felt before.

You liked JJ…and he liked you back…but you couldn’t be with him.

It seemed like one big cruel joke, but Rafe was the only one who was laughing. Even though he’d made it clear that he’d targeted you, you still couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be here if you’d just coped with things better that night. It seemed pointless to dwell on ‘what if’s’ but it couldn’t be helped. In this moment, you were more angry with yourself than with Rafe. Just then, the man in question pressed his lips to yours as he pulled you up into a sitting position by your neck.

He brushed his thumb under his nose, pupils blown when his eyes met yours. Your face was even, taut as it had been for days, and Rafe laughed at that. He’d been walking around with a smug grin ever since that night, eyes alight with mischief at your misfortune.

Your relationship, if it could even be called that, had regressed back to its early days where Rafe hurt you as much and took advantage of you as much as he pleased. The thought that his blackmailing of your mom was his way of giving you a choice was laughable, but in a way, it was true. If you had felt trapped before, it was nothing compared to how you felt now.

“Smile a little, huh?” he drawled, offering you some coke. “It’s a party.”

Said party was happening in a whole other room. Rafe had dragged you into someone’s guest room over 30 minutes ago, not quite in the mood to share the booger sugar, and you sadly realized that watching him get high was the better part of your week.

“A party that I don’t want to be at,” was your response, and Rafe smirked.

“Yeah, well, you still manage to smile when I make you do a lot of things you don’t want to do.”

His words had you frowning, anger stirring in your chest, and you looked away when he laughed. He leaned in to press his lips to your neck, and you tilted your head away before standing and wiping away any coke residue from your skin. You heard him heave a light sigh from behind you.

“That attitude of your is real cute, but you’re gonna have to drop it next week.”

His words had your frown deepening, and when you looked back at him he was leaning on his elbow.

“What’s so special about next week?” you dryly wondered.

Rafe didn’t answer right away. In fact, his whole demeanor seemed to change for a split second, smile falling and eyes hardening in a way that made your heart skip a beat. He reminded you of that night on Ward’s boat or those times when he was fighting JJ…and it scared you. It only lasted for a moment, that familiar mirth returning to his eyes, but it was enough to unnerve you, nonetheless.

“The family’s going on our annual summer trip…and you’re coming along.”

You scoffed at that, folding your arms over your chest, and a protest was on your lips before you remembered that you probably didn’t have a choice. Still, you wondered how Rafe was going to force you to go anywhere with them, and that was what you asked him.

“Come on, babe,” he started, reaching for your hand. “You’re telling me you don’t want to get away from Outer Banks for a few days? I bet you’ve never even left North Carolina.”

You pursed your lips at that, loathed to admit that he was right.

“I’ll drag you if I have to, you know, but even you can’t be so stubborn to turn your nose up at a vacation you could only dream of that you’re not even paying for.”

“Days secluded God knows where with just you and your family? That’s not exactly my idea of a vacation,” you snidely replied.

Rafe gave a light laugh at that.

“Well, it’s going to have to be because you’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you here.”

You clenched your jaw.

“…besides someone has to keep Sarah company aside from Wheezie, right…?”

Your eyes met his at that, and the reminder that Sarah would also be going relaxed you a bit. You rolled your eyes, too defeated to argue. The last one had escalated into something ugly, and you absentmindedly circled your wrist from when Rafe had held it too tight yesterday.

That’s what the past week or so consisted of. Fighting and fucking. Or rape, to be more accurate. Every attempt to leave only ended in Rafe pinning you down, and your body more sore than the day it was before. It was strange to be standing here and having a simple conversation with your tormentor, but this was currently your new normal.

Even now, you knew that if you attempted to make a run for it, Rafe would get his hands on you before you even made it to the door. By the glint in his eyes, he knew it too, and you swore that he was almost begging you to make this night more interesting for him. However, instead of giving him what he wanted, you simply looked away, ignoring the sound of his deep laugh in your ear.

You sighed at the sight of another missed call from JJ.

You felt guilty for ignoring his calls, for ignoring all of their calls, but it was too painful, right now. Everything was out and in the open, and it was hard to talk to them with the truth of your situation hanging over the conversation. You knew that it wouldn’t be like this forever, that one day you’d figure out how to get out of this mess and away from this crazy family.

But until then…

You recalled the sight of Rafe and JJ rolling around on the ground again. How many times had your best friend gotten hurt because of you and what you’d gotten him caught up in? Despite his lack of right to be, Rafe was a jealous man, and you didn’t want to give him another reason to hurt anyone. Like before, you erased the call history just as you heard Rafe call your name from upstairs.

With a roll of your eyes, you reluctantly crossed the house, passing Ward and Rose in the kitchen as you did. A second suitcase had joined his on the bed, and you glanced over the clothes, none of which you had bought, that were sprawled along the mattress.

“Pick what you’re taking,” he dismissively said, waving his hand about.

“You pick,” you argued. “You’re the one who wants to pretend like we’re one happy couple.”

Rafe cut his eyes to you, glancing over you with a sneer.

“If it were up to me, you’d walk around in nothing, but I don’t think Rose would be too happy about that.”

“God, you’re disgusting,” you spat, reaching for the least provocative thing you could find.

Rafe’s hand found your neck, thumb brushing over the skin.

“Lighten…up…”

His voice had lowered, softened some, and you swallowed.

“…you’re starting to ruin this vacation before it’s even started.”

“Then leave me here.”

You stared into each other’s eyes with straight faces, but yours eventually grew pleading.

“So I can come back to find you…what? Gone? Waiting for me with some scheme that’ll keep me away from you? I’m a lot of things, but I’m not stupid,” he slowly said.

“This is bullshit,” you spat, throwing the dress on the floor. “You think some useless family vacation to whatever fancy vacation house you have is going to make me forget what kind of position I’m in? It’s just supposed to distract me from the fact that you’ve tormented me beyond forgiveness and that my friendships with the people I love will never be the same?”

You scoffed.

“No, you’re not stupid, Rafe, but you’re definitely delusional.”

You watched him pick your dress up off the floor before placing it in your hand, holding it there with his own as he leaned in.

“…and so are you if you think that this little tantrum is going to end in anything other than your bag packed and you freshly showered and sleeping in my bed at the end of the night.”

He was right, of course. You knew he was right, and you swallowed. You would come up with something, you had to, but maybe until then, it would be easier to play nice. At least until you cane back. You were soon going to be surrounded by nothing but the Camerons for a few days, and Sarah was the only one who would be on your side.

So with a huff, you picked out what you liked, and true to his word, at the end of the night, you were freshly showered and curled up under his sheets. Rafe was on the phone with Kelce, and his voice became background noise as you decided on whether or not this trip would be heaven or hell.

Your expectations were already low when you got on the private plane days later, Rafe’s hand on your waist as Ward and Wheezie followed in behind you. It occurred to you then that you still didn’t quite comprehend the kind of wealth the Camerons’ possessed. Against what you wanted, you found yourself drifting away on the plane.

It was funny, really.

You hadn’t even bothered to ask where you were going.

When you woke up, you woke up in an unfamiliar room. That was to be expected, of course, but you hadn’t expected the air to feel so different here. You couldn’t hear anyone else, and you took the time to stand and look around. The room had an entire wall that was one huge window, and you blinked at the view. It was beautiful, you wouldn’t deny that, and you pursed your lips just as you faintly heard Wheezie’s voice.

“There she is,” Ward called when you finally found your way to the kitchen.

“Told you she’d be jetlagged,” Wheezie commented at Rafe, shrugging as your ‘boyfriend’ rolled his eyes.

It looked like Ward was making sandwiches, the sound of the knife sliding along the cutting board grating as he sliced tomatoes.

“How’d you sleep, babe?” Rafe quietly asked, pulling you closer.

Your gaze briefly met Ward’s, and you glanced away.

“Fine.”

Your reply was curt.

“Where are we?”

Wheezie snorted at that, typing away on her phone.

“Rafe, you jerk. You didn’t even tell her where we were going?”

“Now, now. He probably just wanted it to be a surprise, isn’t that right?”

Ward’s smile was convincing, and you wondered if Sarah even partially knew what her dad was really like.

“We’re in the Bahamas,” Rafe finally told you. “My dad’s had this place for years.”

Your brows briefly rose at that, and you cleared your throat.

“Sarah and Rose are coming tomorrow, right?”

“Of course, they are, sweetheart. You know Rose,” Ward commented. “She has to bring the whole world with her on every trip.”

You simply hummed, thinking to yourself that Sarah couldn’t get here fast enough. Rafe’s fingers kneaded into your side, holding you to him as he sat on the stool. You felt his lips on your shoulder and swallowed at that. It was barely the first day, and you already knew you couldn’t handle much more of this without her. Ward and Wheezie kept to themselves for the rest of the day for the most part, leaving you and Rafe to yourselves.

It felt strange to be walking along the beach with Rafe, hand in hand like you didn’t hate his guts. You surmised that he was keeping up appearances for his sister that was in the dark, but it still felt weird for him to be so sweet to you. As sweet as Rafe Cameron could be, you supposed. You didn’t know how to respond when he clasped the bracelet around your wrist that he’d bought from some vendor for you.

“Wheezie’s not here, you know,” you’d said, and his response had been a genuine smile.

“I know…but I’m happy.”

You couldn’t deny that he did seem to be, and you frowned at him.

“Why?” you’d rudely asked, and he’d merely shaken his head before briefly pressing his lips to your cheek.

When you made it back to the house, it was late, and after your shower, Rafe wasted no time in kissing you. You had lightly protested, pressing your hands to his chest.

“I thought this was supposed to be a vacation,” you sneered. “…and fucking you with your dad and sister on the other side of the house isn’t my idea of relaxation.”

Rafe exhaled a chuckle, hands on your waist as he pulled you closer.

“Then why do you always sleep like a baby after I make you come, huh?” he murmured, hands on your face now as he brought you into a kiss.

“Rafe-.”

“I want to kiss you…”

You were taken aback by the seriousness of his tone.

“…and I want to fuck you here in this pretty mansion with the sound of the ocean waves in the background.”

His eyes held yours as he said this, and you swallowed at the feel of his thumbs brushing along your jaw.

“Remember that first night on the beach? When I didn’t have to hold you down?”

“I was drunk-.”

“…but you wanted me. I was there, and I was the one you kissed back, the one you wanted to sleep with that night.”

“I wasn’t thinking-.”

“You held onto me and wrapped your legs around me, and you never moaned for me like that since,” he continued, lips brushing the corner of your mouth. “Come on…”

He pulled away, and you struggled to hold his gaze.

“I will, but…I’d rather not have to make you have sex with me here.”

You turned to look at the glass wall, knowing that you didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Funnily enough, the only time you ever did had been that night, and you’d never had one since.

“Pretend just this once.”

And you did.

Rafe’s lips were gentle against yours as he kissed you, touch equally as soft as he undressed you and laid you down. You could count the number of times on one hand that he’d been this delicate with you, and you couldn’t stop the whispery moan that escaped when he kissed his way down your body.

Oddly enough, you were reminded of that first night when you’d been heartbroken and desperate to feel wanted. Rafe was right, of course. You had wanted him that night. Regretting it didn’t change the truth. It wasn’t like you didn’t know who was kissing you, but you’d been lonely, and Rafe had shown you the attention you desperately wanted from someone else.

And you had welcomed it.

Your fingers twisted into his hair as he tasted you, lips still wet when he eventually crawled his way over your body and pressed them to yours. Your fingers brushed along his arms, and Rafe shuddered before sinking into you, teeth grazing the expanse of your throat. He fucked you with care, and you couldn’t stop the mewls that left your lips.

It was a lot like that night on the beach, only this time you weren’t drunk. But you’d found your way into a trap all the same. Rafe had you caged beneath him as he fucked you, and you didn’t stop yourself from wrapping your legs around him.

“That’s it,” he breathed, lips brushing over yours. “Come on, baby.”

The first time you came felt like a betrayal to your own body, but by the third time, you almost wished that reality wouldn’t slap you in the face tomorrow.

When you woke up, you could tell that it was later than you intended to sleep until. The sun was much too high in the sky, and upon reaching out, you realized that Rafe’s side of the bed was empty. The memory of last night was fresh in your mouth like liquor, and you couldn’t stop your sigh. The house sounded empty when you eventually sat up, but you decided to put on something anyway.

It happened to be Rafe’s shirt and some shorts.

The bright marble walls greeted you when you stepped out, and you once again confirmed the silence of the house. It was big though, proven right when you didn’t even hear anyone in the kitchen until you were practically in it.

It was Rafe, and oddly enough, you didn’t know how to behave around him after last night.

“Is Wheezie still asleep?”

That was your greeting, preferring to focus on something else. In your experience, that girl was usually the first one up, proven right when Rafe shook his head.

“Nah,” he answered, warming up some leftover breakfast.

“Oh,” you replied. “Is she down at the beach? Ward too?”

Rafe didn’t answer right away, but he eventually shook his head, and you frowned. You glanced around again before looking at the clock, taking note of the time.

“What time are Rose and Sarah supposed to be getting here?”

The microwave beeped, and instead of answering, Rafe took your plate out. You sat at the counter as he placed it in front of you, hands resting on the other side as he finally looked at you head on. His dirty blond hair was mussed, and his face was entirely serious when he answered.

“They’re not.”

You faltered at that, looking at him with a deep frown.

“Did something happen? When are they coming?”

Rafe’s answer was immediate.

“They’re not coming.”

“I…I don’t…”

You shook your head, confusion tearing through you as you nervously looked around.

“Where are Ward and Wheezie?”

Your question came out breathless, and you couldn’t pinpoint why. Rafe heaved a sigh.

“Considering what time they left this morning, they should be back in Outer Banks…”

Your lips parted as you simply…stared at him. With difficulty, you stood on shaky legs.

“You’re not funny…”

“I’m not joking…”

“Rafe,” you breathed. “Please, tell me you’re joking. We’re going back, right?”

Deep down, you knew the answer to that now. Especially the longer you stared at him, and tears kissed your eyes.

“Rafe,” you said, your voice small.

He made his way to the other side of the counter, and you took a step back.

“We’ll go back…eventually.”

“Eventually? Rafe, are you-?”

“When I think that you’ve finally come around, then maybe we can go back one day,” he said so casually like this wasn’t kidnapping.

“No,” you breathed. “No, no, no, no, no.”

You hurriedly ran through the house, looking for something that didn’t add up to what he was saying. You looked for Wheezie and Ward and their luggage, but all signs of them were gone. Rafe slowly followed at a distance, hands shoved into his pockets, and when you faced him again, the slap couldn’t have been any louder.

Surprisingly, Rafe didn’t get angry. He merely adjusted his jaw and smirked, and you knew why. He had won, and you weren’t quite ready to accept that. Your heart was racing, and you felt like you couldn’t get air in fast enough. You pressed your hand to your chest, reaching out for the wall.

You were stuck here in the Bahamas with Rafe. You didn’t know anyone but him, and you had no means of getting home. You were well and truly trapped.

“My mom…”

“You can always call her,” he said, reaching for you.

“No,” you tearfully said, shaking your head. “Rafe…”

A sob escaped, and you would’ve collapsed if it wasn’t for him.

“Take me home, please, take me home,” you gasped.

He sat you down, kneeling beside you, and you shook your head.

“Not now-.”

“You can’t do this! My friends! They’re going to-.”

“Tell the police you’ve been kidnapped instead of actually on a nice vacation with your boyfriend at his family’s house? Hmm?”

You tearfully frowned at him, seeing him in an entirely new light, and you slowly blinked.

“I hate you,” you shakily spat.

“Yeah, well that’s why you’re here,” he sighed.

“You can’t…you can’t do this…”

You couldn’t breathe, and you held onto him.

“I already did,” was his reply.

You could feel yourself growing lightheaded, and for once, you wanted to run away from the darkness because you knew the nightmare wouldn’t be over when you woke up.

Fin.

tags: @xoxabs88xox @readermia @buckybarnesplumwhore @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @trinittyy @hyoyeoniie @mandiiblanche @doozywoozy @melli0112 @zombiexbody @holl2712 @mansaaay @lipstickstainedred @avengers-goddess @ameliaalvarez06 @kaelibaby @totallynotkaibiased @hanniebee33 @jemimah-b99 @gillybear17 @valeriiecameron @mannstarkey @lovserrr @aglassoforangejuiceee @emberenchanted @layazul @toystory2wasjustokay @my-baexht-ls @prettymuchboo @asonofpeter @spidey-d00d @cockslutpadalecki @dirtytissuebox @evemarieyl @katherinemaximoff @ventinglation @tastycakee @stopnala @annellie @littleone2223 @itskeishaaaaa @blueicequeen19 @drewsgfduh @ashpeace888 @bibliophilewednesday @lonnie2390147 @1-800-di0r @amanduhh1998 @coldspoons @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @twwcs @breakfastonpluto19 @lovedetlost @pearlsofme @rottenstyx @famousdestinygarden @drewbooooo @officialfangirls-blog

#dark!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x reader #obx fic #outer banks

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