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whyse7vn · 5 months

Text

OLD YOONGI -

[ min yoongi x reader ]

YOONGI :3

you have 1 miss call from yoongi :3

yoongi: i’m killing myself

you have 2 miss calls from yoongi :3

yoongi: do you want me to kill myself?

y/n: send a picture of ur face rn

yoongi: why didn’t you answer??

y/n: shut up and send

yoongi: why?

y/n: cuz i asked

yoongi: you demanded

y/n: ur into that

yoongi: shut up

y/n: :p

ur face

pls

yoongi: no

ur just gonna say something weird

y/n: i won’t

yoongi: whatever

y/n:

got me twiddling my thumbs and shit🥰

ur such a cutie

let’s do a blood bond

no joke i’m so hard rn

yoongi: …

y/n: want proof????

yoongi: talk to me like a normal girlfriend

y/n: hello amazing beautiful boyfriend

yoongi: ew???

y/n: pookie??

yoongi: leave me alone

y/n: you literally called me?

yoongi: and you didn’t answer

y/n: just say ur obsessed with me…

yoongi: going to the coffee shop

y/n: WITHOUT ME???

fucking snake oh my god

yoongi: what do you want??

y/n: 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

yoongi: ur making me sick

y/n: stop being mean to me

yoongi: sorry :3

what do you want pretty

y/n: your mouth against my mouth

yoongi: ok bye

y/n: boooo ur boring

yoongi: don’t be upset with me when i come home with no coffee for you

y/n: what are you getting

yoongi: vanilla latte

7 espresso shots

y/n: bro????????????????

you might as well do cocaine what the hell

yoongi: who is bro?

y/n: i want to fuck u rn

btw

if you didn’t know

now you do

yoongi: ur real strange

y/n: i can be strange in bed

yoongi: no thanks???

y/n: just tell me to shoot myself in the head fuck

yoongi: wtf are you even talking about rn

y/n: yoongi don’t you get tired of pretending ur not deeply in love with me and would literally ask how high if i said jump

yoongi: what do you want from this fucking coffee shop oh my god

i’m almost there

y/n: ur so in love with me it’s actually overbearing

yoongi: i’m blocking you

y/n: what would you do if i kissed namjoon

yoongi: ????

why would you do that??

stop asking me stupid questions

y/n: i just want to know

yoongi: stop talking

y/n: if i stop talking that means i’m dead

yoongi: i can’t wait till that day comes

y/n: ummm what the hell

ur literally gonna die first

ur 30……

yoongi: how do you know i’m gonna die first

you god or something??

y/n: baby ur 30

yoongi: i’m aware

y/n: im gald you understand

yoongi: ?

whatever

getting u a iced caramel frappe thing ok??

don’t want it don’t care

y/n: when he knows ur order 😍

yoongi: nvm i’m not getting it for you actually

y/n: when he’s broke and ugly 🤬

yoongi: 😐

y/n: i’ll lick you head to toe

i lied i’m sorry

ur not ugly

AT ALL

yk that baby

yoongi: but i’m broke?

y/n: maybe idk

you not wanting to buy me the drink says a lot….

yoongi: whatever don’t care anymore

y/n: you’re a liar

you literally almost cried just now

yoongi: no i didn’t

y/n: you did

yoongi: not

y/n: i love u

yoongi: ok

y/n: say it back stupid bitch

yoongi: i love you

y/n: <3333333333333333333

yoongi: this is toxic

y/n: me and namjoon are toxic

yoongi: there is no you and namjoon

y/n: can i dream in peace

yoongi: shut up

cuz what if i said

y/n: NO DON’T SAY ANYTHING

OH MY GOD IM GONNA TJROW UP

DONT PLS -£/££/£2&:&:£:£.£

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😞😞😞😞😞

BABY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

ILL LITERALLY CRY IF YOU SAY ANOTHER WOMANS NAME

yoongi: but you can talk about namjoon??

idk this doesn’t seem fair love :/

y/n: don’t even know a namjoon

is that a fruit or something????????

yoongi: that’s what i thought

y/n: shut the hell up

yoongi: :3

y/n: random question but are you single lol

yoongi: no

y/n: damn that’s crazy

i hope she dies

yoongi: me too

y/n: WOOOOOWWWWW

yoongi: idk what you expect me to say

y/n: dni rn

yoongi: ok

y/n: ur interacting i told you NOT to

fucker

good

stupid idiot loser bitch

UGH

sighs

so like…

*tucks hair behind ear*

you come here often?😍

don’t ignore my flirting what the hell

yoongi: what do you want from me

y/n: some love and appreciation would be nice idk..

yoongi: at the coffee shop standing in line now

y/n: bet the way you standing is hot as hell

yoongi: ??

tf is actually ur issue

y/n: don’t ?? me

ur making me look insane

yoongi: you are insane

y/n: this yoongi would never treat me

like this

yoongi: ew

never show me that again

y/n: but you look so silly and edible :33

i remember the day you took this so clearly

you sent it to me and begged me

to tell you if it was ok to post or not

SIGHSSSSSSS

wow miss old yoongi

now ur just a slut whose naked all the time

yoongi: i am not naked all the time

y/n: SIGHSSSSSSS

what happened to my little lover boy

who would tell me he loves me 475 times a day

yoongi: i tell you i love you all the time

y/n: ok but you say it like i have a gun to ur head

yoongi: i love you

y/n: not convinced

yoongi: whatever

y/n: SIGHSS

the old yoongi wouldn’t of given up so easily

yoongi: i love you there is literally nothing more to say

y/n: old yoongi would have more words

yoongi: i reallllly love you

y/n: SIGHSSSSSSS

yoongi: babe…

y/n: looks left looks right

sighs

yoongi: you are great

i love you

i appreciate you

i want to kiss you

y/n: i could cry

best day of my life

i’ve never seen you this emotional yoongi

kinda off putting

you on ur period or something 💀

yoongi: ?????????????

stop talking to me

—

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @indigobsessed @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @yojaschill @k4ngelz @jmnscutie

#bts crack #bts fic #bts fluff #bts text #bts imagines #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fake chats #bts incorrect texts #min yoongi x reader #yoongi texts #suga x you #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n

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yzashaven · 8 months

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HI HI HI MAY I REQUEST THAT U WRITE MENTALLY ILL USER X SCARA DOCTOR:33 LIKE USER IS OBSESSED WITH HIM AND HE FINDS IT ADORABLE!

FEATURING ! doctor!scaramouche x mentally ill!fem!reader

CONTENTS ! reader admitted in a psychiatric hospital, attached reader, reader wears hospital gown, cunnilingus, fingering, use of darling/dear, clit and nipple stimulation, teasing, orgasm denial, neck biting

NOTE ! first of all, I'M SO SO SORRY that this took so long 😭 i loved your request and had a few ideas but couldn't find a way to write it so i had like 5 drafts for this in my notes app lmao anyway, i do hope this turned out alright and you still enjoy it even if it's really messy and is honestly a hard read for me. i'll probably redo this in the future !

a psychiatric hospital. the place where you've been spending most of your days lately. you can't remember why or when exactly you got brought here but that doesn't really matter. and now you're sitting on the edge of your bed, lost in thought as you stare at the man sitting ahead of you, doctor scaramouche. he's been responsible for treating you since the start and seems to be quite fond of you. "hey... are you listening?" your train of thought ends as you hear the sound of fingers snapping right in front of your face. apologizing briefly to him, "you have to listen carefully." he shakes his head before writing something down on a clipboard. "now... where were weㅡ" he's so charming that you can't look anywhere else, looking at him with love in your eyes. "how have you been feeling? i haven't recorded any odd or weird activity from you recently... and that's a good thing, surely you'll be out of here in no time." he smiles gently at you. no way he just said that! you didn't wanna leave and go somewhere he wasn't at.

"do i have to leave?" you asked him sadly, despite knowing the answer already. "of course you have to, darling." oh the way he'd call you by petnames never failed to make your heart race, even the sound of his voice that makes your cheeks blush cherry red. "but i don't want to! i wanna stay here with you." your words caught him off guard, earning a dark chuckle from the man. "and why is that?" "because i like you, you're here..." your face drops, looking down at the floor as reality hits you. he chuckles some more, leaving the clipboard on the bedside table nearby before making his way closer to you. scaramouche's fingers make their way under your chin to lift your face up, resulting in having eye contact between you both. "you wanna stay with me?" he says while seemingly laughing slightly, sharp eyes piercing through yours as he looks down at you. "don't be so obsessive and attached. it's time for you to go home." "scara, no... my home is where you're at~" you're practically pleading at him now to let you stay. "it's doctor scaramouche to you, darling."

"but i do think that i'll grant you permission for informalities with me." he smiles at you gently. "now... how about i give you something to remember me by, would you like that?" his fingers leave your face to step back a bit and discard his white coat as he speaks in a slightly stern yet soft tone. "come on now, get comfortable. i'll make sure you have a good time." your cheeks flush a light red as he smirks at you. making your way to the middle of the bed and sitting down comfortably as you watch him place the coat down on the chair, his slightly tight undershirt accentuating the body features on his torso.

he takes your chin in between his fingers once more before lowering himself down to eye-level and indulging you in a soft kiss, pushing you down on the bed in the process. his hand find its way along your cheek, collarbone and down to your thighs, fingers slipping under the silk white hospital gown with featherlight touches. scaramouche kneels down beside the bed and in front of you on the floor, pulling you closer by the thighs, his face only mere inches away from your heating core. "just enjoy the ride and let me do all the work, alright, darling?" he whispers seductively, constantly rubbing your inner thigh delicately, to which you let out a nearly inaudible whimper while nodding obediently.

with you watching him intently, he finally pushes away the fabric of the gown out of the way and up to your hips, granting access to your nearly soaked panties. he begins by spreading your thighs gently before teasing your slit over the cloth with a finger, dragging along the area. as you let out a soft sigh, he took it as a sign to keep going, leaning in to plant soft kisses on your clit. pulling the garments aside to reveal your glistening hole, he looks up at you with a sly smirk and teases your cunt by adding a finger and softly kisses your clit again. your fingers hurry to pull on his indigo locks in an attempt to pull him even closer. chuckling darkly, he adds another finger, two digits slowly thrusting in and out of your drenched pussy as his tongue skillfully dances with your clit, sending shiver up your spine.

as his tongue continues to stimulate your sensitive bud, his hands make their way up to fully remove the white hospital gown from your body. delicate touches against your soft skin that leave goosebumps at where they made contact. scaramouche gets up from his knees to take into sight of your helpless form on the bed; hair slightly scattered on the sheets, eyes looking at him with desperateness, body exposed to be completely at his mercy. with a long sigh in pleasure his hands went up to grope at your chest from beneath the bra before ripping it off eventually. fingers crawling back inside your tight hole while his lips attach to your nipple, lightly nibbling on the perked up area along with licking and sucking on it every now and then, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body.

maintaining eye contact with you, his starts to rub your clit in slow circular motions, smiling as he watches your face contort to one of pleasure and pure ecstacy. eyeing your neck for a second, scaramouche then kisses your neck trying to find your so called sweet spot. smirking against your skin upon hearing you moan as a confirmation of finding the said area, to which he bites on it, causing your body to jolt slightly with a rather loud moan. slowly lapping at the teeth marks left as his digits pick up a faster pace. feeling your climax upcoming, you tell him so, ready to finally be able to cum on his fingers and coat them in your essence. yet he doesn't allow you to, curling them at an angle one last time, only to pull apart sooner later. moving back to observe your figure once more.

although no matter how much you kept begging for him to continue, he didn't. instead he began to get rid of his own clothes, claiming they were 'in the way of the real fun'. showing off his pretty erected cock as he pulled down his pants, stroking it slowly before pulling you closer once again. teasing your tight hole by lightly slapping his length on you and rubbing his tip along your soaking entrance. leaning in only to whisper a few words that sent you in an exhilarated state.

"i hope you're ready for me. 'cause we most definitely are not stopping."

#☾★ written »#☾★ kuni »#scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #fem!reader

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vermithorn · 1 year

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* WANTED U

pairing: aegon ii targaryen x fem!stark!reader

summary: aegon misbehaving, you’re done with him... or are you?

contains: angst, name calling, drinking, aegon being shitty, toxic relationship, reader being mean too hehe, sub/dom undertones.

author’s note: hello! this is a mix between two requests i got, the first one was “reader first discovering the soft subby side of aegon” ,,, i took some liberties with this one,,, and the other one was “the reader giving aegon the silence treatment” so yknow what your aegon lover had to do…, ! pls enjoy and remember english isn't my first language ! <; 3

aegon woke up with the worst hangover of his 20 years of life.

his name-day celebrations were last night, and he drank everything until he forgot everyone.

king viserys was very ill to attend the celebrations, so he made sure this one was the very best for his firstborn son.

aegon stirred in his bed, it was too big for him but the number of women he could keep there was high, so he was happy with it. it was probably past midday and no one bothered to wake up aegon, maybe his mother came to her senses and let him sleep more after his nameday.

he remembered a few things, finishing the day with queen alicent screaming at him for some reason he couldn’t remember correctly. meh, he brushed it off, his mother always reprimanded him for little things so he was used to it.

he called servant to get himself cleaned and dressed, the servant stuttered that it was not past midday and he was required to go and have lunch with his family as soon as possible.

on his way to eat, he tried to piece together his memories from last night. everything looked like a blur, he remembered clearly when he started drinking on the main table and then the memories faded away, they came back to his mother screaming and dragging him to his chambers with ser criston cole carrying him on his shoulder.

he stepped on the room and everyone who were chatting happily went quiet, damn, he sighed as he made his way to his seat next to his betrothed, you.

he tried to greet you but you gave him the cold shoulder causing him to frown, you continued eating your meal in silence occasionally chatting with helaena who was sitting next to you.

okay, that behavior from you wasn't that weird, but usually you were polite and even friendly with him. he couldn't recall why you were acting like that.

“nice for you to finally join us, brother.” aegon rolled his eyes as he smiled sarcastically at his younger brother.

“only my baby brother missed me, apparently my betrothed can't relate too much.” you turned around slowly to glare at him, you scoffed as you stood up.

“excuse me, i have some matters to attend right now, thank you for the meal.” you said and left without looking back, he groaned, it was too early for all of this.

queen alicent was staring angrily at him, “why can't you be a good man for once? don't you think it was enough of your words yesterday?”

“enlighten me, mother?”

as queen alicent listed things, one by one, aegon started slowly to remember last night, pin pointing exactly what happened with you.

it was probably his four cup of rum, his favorite. you were sitting by his side as you drank from your little cup, he tried to persuade you to get a cup as big as his but you shook your head, saying how your glass was perfectly fine.

he rolled his eyes as he ordered someone to get him more alcohol, he saw you make a face as his request and decided to confront you. “do you have a problem, love?”

“no, my prince,” you brushed it off sipping from your cup, he frowned and looked away.

a few moments later he decided he wanted to dance, so everyone had to indulge him and dance with him. he swayed around between maidens and ladies of the court who were totally obligated to yield to him as you watched from afar.

it was getting late, and aegon got drunker than ever, it was his nameday after all and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. you watched everything unfold from your seat at the main table.

he started getting handsy with a girl, and she was getting handsy too in return, also as drunk as your betrothed. you stared at him, considering carefully your options, you decided that you had enough and walked towards him quickly.

you grabbed his shoulder, separating him from the girl, “my prince, it's time to leave.” he looked absolutely wasted, staring at you with anger in his eyes.

“leave me alone.” he stated, turning around to return to his endeavors.

you scowled at him defiantly, “no, you heard me, prince aegon.”

“who the fuck do you think you are?” he fully turned towards you, towering you bitterly hostile.

“your betrothed.”

“of course, you love to remind me that every fucking day,” the girl left scared, you stood there unamused. “you're nothing to me more than a cunt to eat when i'm bored and a thing to bear my heirs, please remember that when trying to get me to do something, now get the fuck out of my sight.”

the next thing he knew, he was being carried to his chambers by ser criston cole. his mother screaming things at him, about how he could never treat you like that again, to think about their relationship with the north depended on your marriage with him and how they could not afford that at all.

his head hit the pillows on the bed and he was dead sleep.

oh, oh. it all came back like a punch in the face.

“now you remember, brother?” aemond smirked at him, “i can't believe lady stark didn't hit you in the face right there, i admire her composure.”

he excused himself to his chambers, without touching his food at all. he locked himself there, without caring about the preoccupied knocks from his sister and mocks from his brother. he felt guilty, he didn't thought about you like that at all, you were kind and friendly with him, even when he was annoying and borderline disturbing.

he was in a weird state of mind, queen alicent berating him in any way she could, his grandfather the hand of the king, being the same or maybe worst than his mother. he wasn't good enough for anyone, everyone wanted more of him than he could give.

his name-day was for him, to get drunk and forget everything for a good solid minute, but apparently that wasn't possible.

you didn't deserve that treatment, you were only trying to take care of him and he treated you like trash. you deserved better than a drunk like him.

he waited a few hours to head down to your designated chambers, knocking on your door softly.

“wait!” you rushed to the door, expecting everyone except prince aegon, your face falling at the sight of him leaning on your doorframe. “prince aegon, what do you need?” you said politely, but with a stoic face.

“i wanted to talk with you,” shit, this was harder than he thought. “i actually wanted to apologize.” you sighed as you moved to the side to let him into your chambers, closing the door behind you.

he sat carefully into your bed, making himself comfortable under your rigid gaze. he looked at you with caution, afraid you'll run away from him like the others, like his family always did.

“first, i want to say that i am sorry for my behavior last night, you were only trying to take care of me and i was distasteful to say the least.” you nodded, encouraging him to continue. “second, i wanted you to now that i do not think that, i mean, about what i said last night.”

“about how i am nothing to you? or the cunt and womb part of your little pathetic speech?” he winced, looking away from your stoic face.

he expected to you to break, shed some tears, sob, anything. but you stood there, with your arms crossed and that unbreakable aura you always had, that typical northmen thing common-folk talked about sometimes.

“i do not care, prince aegon,” he looked back at you, your eyes hard on him, “we are to get married, this is not a love bond, this is a political alliance between our houses.”

“then why you were trying to get me to leave yesterday if you don't care?” he quickly counter asked, regretting it instantly by the way you stared down at him.

“maybe i don't want people in the court talking how my betrothed is fucking other girls in front of me.” you said exposing your possessive tone, he shivered.

“you do care, then.” you took a step towards him, towering him like he did the night before.

“what if i care, you made sure to let me know what you think of me yesterday,” you spat, “to me you're nothing more than a pathetic drunk whore.”

his eyes watered at how could you think so little of him, feeling hypocritical of his own thoughts. you grabbed his jaw to make him look at you, “so if you want this relationship to work, you need to start respecting me, or i'll go home and come back with the whole north behind my back.”

he nodded the best he could with your grip on his jaw, sobbing slightly. you tilted your head, cleaning a few tears that went down his face with your other hand.

“i am sorry, l-love,” he stuttered, “i know you don't care about my apology but i am sorry.” you nodded, your features softening at the sight of the prince sobbing on your hand, you loosened your grip on his jaw and placed your hand on the side of his face.

“why are you crying, my prince?” he exhaled, closing his eyes while leaning on your hand.

“i don't want to be like this anymore,” he opened his eyes slowly to see you looking down at him, eyes soft. “all my life my mother has put her life goals on me, i don't want to be what she wants me to be, she never lets me be my own person so i always do this, to get her attention sometimes, maybe even my father could-”

you interrupted him, “okay, i think i get it now.”

you looked at him, his face soft against your hand, he was slightly hiccuping and it was the first time he shared his personal thoughts with you. the pieces of his behavior were slowly connecting in your head, he just wanted to be reassured, he wanted to be good enough for his family.

you couldn't excuse his behavior, but you started to get it. he was soon to become your husband, so you decided you'll do your very best to get him in the right path.

“you could start talking to me, normally.” you stated, he nodded quickly.

“i like being choked and praised,” you raised your eyebrows. “that is not normal enough?”

it was okay, it was a start, you decided to indulge him, “what else, my prince?” you said caressing his face.

“i usually require to be told i am a good boy.” he nodded enthusiastically.

your grip on his jaw hardened, he gasped, “are you, though? i'll need you in your very best behavior for me.”

his eyes lit up, “i'll do my best for you, love.”

#aegonii #tvrgvryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x female reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #got #game of thrones #aegon targaryen smut #haelena targaryen #aemond targaryen

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ilwonuu · 2 months

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I so love yeosang smutty fanfics. Can you please please do one for me where she's an atiny and them two got paired in the same hotel room by accident due to the hotel. He enters while she's in the shower and so forth

Please and thank you

yes yes omg ty for the request!!! i literally hope this isn’t too bad… I LOVE THIS IDEA BTW I HOPE U LIKE

˚₊‧⁺˖✮coincidence✮˖⁺‧₊˚

↴ kang yeosang

⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚

➶ summary- the universe gives you a one chance opportunity to be in a room with your idol.

➶ warnings- protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to fucking lmfao, pet names (pretty, angel)(yeo), neck kisses, kinda softdom!yeo, lmk what else

➶ a/n- i literally LOVE writing for yeo sm<3

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

you have just gotten back to your hotel room after to seejng ateez. you are completely drained wanting to quietly change out of your concert outfit. you make your way into your bathroom getting into the shower.

yeosang wanting the same as you as he unlocks the hotel room. he makes a weird face at the sight of other peoples clothing on the floor. he curiously looks at the bathroom door. seeing the light and the shower is definitely on. he gets a little scared now.

meanwhile you are just finishing your shower as your idol is casually in your hotel room. you get out of the shower after hearing a faint voice. “um excuse me? i think you’re in the wrong hotel room.” you hear the person say through the bathroom door. “one second please!” you call out quickly grabbing a towel to cover yourself opening the bathroom door. “i just paid for this roo- yeosang????? what the fuck yeosang?” you are shocked beyond shocked. he is standing. right in front of you.

“yea? what.. im sorry miss but i think you have the wrong room.” he repeats himself. you shake your head suddenly. “no- i just paid for this room when i got here..” he is now confused. “do we need to talk to staff?” he says.

yeosang’s eyes slowly trail to your figure as you’re standing in front of him naked under the towel. “im gonna be honest you can do all that. i just went to your concert and im tired.” he laughs at you softly. “i just performed at that concert you think im not tired?” his voice is inviting as if he is waiting for something. his eyes are still on you as you smile at him. “i really cannot believe im talking to you- okay! anyways i honestly don’t mind sharing if you don’t. ill sleep on the couch.” you say before going to grab your things but he stops you.

“no need. i can sleep on the couch.. of course you take the bed.” he grabs his stuff moving it away from the door. “o-okay..” you curse at yourself for stuttering. but how could you not? the boy you just saw on a screen is now in front of you. in your hotel room. and he looks more attractive in person. he’s so sweetly spoken and polite with his movements. you’re watching him as discreetly as possible.

he pretends to not see your glances. you see him kick off his shoes and other accessories he had on him. “i know i interrupted your shower but can i shower when you finish up?” he moves closer to you as he asks you.

you just nod without a verbal response. “this is kinda weird right?” he says being a few feet away from you. “i mean yes- but i swear im not a crazy fan. but gonna be honest as long as i didn’t scream” you say laughing. he just nods.

“what if i wanted you to scream for a different reason?” he looks at you with a curious expression.

“w-what?” you are embarrassed with your stuttering but yeosang’s words are far more important at this moment. he just moves closer to you in the bathroom.

“need me to repeat it angel?” he chuckles a little stopping after seeing your still shocked face. “did that make you uncomfortable because if it di-“ you cut him off with a addicting kiss. him now being caught off guard but kissing you back nonetheless.

your towel falls of your body due to yeosang pulling you to lay back on the bed. you moan into the kiss at the cold air against your damp body. “what do you want pretty?” he asks as he leaves a trail of wet kisses against your shoulders. “f-fuck me yeosang..” you don’t care about your stuttering anymore. just wanting the boy to touch you. you are beyond to needy to care.

he nods at you. “are you sure?” he caresses your cheek. “yes please..” you squirm as you feel him spread your legs. “you’re fully dressed and im naked! take these off.” you pull his shirt over his head.

beyond shocked at his chest. its not like you haven’t seen some of it. but all of him in front of you. he looks so sexy you might die. he’s just laughing at you as he kicks off his pants. leaving him in his boxers hovering over you slightly.

you feel his hand move down to massage your thighs softly making you moaning quietly. “let me prep you alright pretty?” yeosang’s words making your arousal drip onto your thighs slightly. the nickname fully making you submit. “p-please yeosang touch me.” he doesn’t waste anytime. his fingers collecting your arousal as he rubs them up and down your slit teasingly. “touching you now pretty.” he smiles at how his actions cause to get a pout out of your for more. “y-yeosang please…” you are now crying out for him and he’s barely done anything.

you feel a finger slide into you causing you to open your legs more as he starts to fuck it into you. “you think you can cum from this angel?” he looks down as your expressions are just changing with the pleasure. he mentally takes that as a yes answer. he begins to speed his fingers up faster curling them to hit the spot you need him most.

“fuck yeosang don’t s-stop!!” he has a smirk on his face as he pulls his finger out. you whining at the loss of pleasure. “be patient pretty. giving you what you want hm?” he smiles at you as he looks at you. “let me grab a condom.” you nod watching him grab it out of his bag. he is already back to you.

you watch him as he pushes his boxers down to free his dick. him groaning at the new feeling. his dick looks big. bigger than you thought it would be. it makes you a little nervous but you want it. he rolls the condom onto his dick before he lines up with you. “ready pretty girl?” he questions you again. “yes yeosang- f-fuck.” he hears the first part of your sentence cutting you off by pushing inside you.

he starts to fuck you shallowly and slowly causing you to moan. you head is thrown back as he lives kisses against your neck. “you okay pretty?” all you can do is nod with closed eyes and your mouth open spit spilling just a little bit.

yeosang thinks you look beautiful like this. seeing you fucked out and its all for him. his hips speed up causing you to moan out.

you look at him through clouded eyes. taking in every little detail of the boy in this moment. he is using your waist for support. chest and head sweaty causing a few strands of hair to stick. his face is in a pleasured expression as it mixes with his focused one. he is making sure you feel good always checking your face for any sign that you were uncomfortable.

“yeosang r-right there please don’t stop.” you pleading out to him as every thrust he is hitting the perfect spot. you’re mind is so fuzzy you can even think of your name. you are completely lost in pleasure.

“yea pretty? this spot feel so good?” he teases slightly now stopping his movements. him hitting the spot over and over. you feel him start to kiss your neck again. you’re moaning at all overstimulation of touch. you love it. you love his touch and his words. he knows how to make you feel perfect.

“s-shit pretty im gonna cum.” you hear him say causing you to open your eyes a little more. “me too yeo.” he curses at the nickname as he continues to fuck you. “fuck angel so fucking wet.” his eyes are on your cunt watching his dick fuck in and out of you. “im cumming yeo!” you yell out coming undone on his dick. his cum shooting into the condom. as he slowly rocks his hips inside you. getting both of you to ride out your highs. he pulls out of you. pulling off the condom and throwing it in the trash. you watch as he heads into the bathroom coming back with a damp rag.

you smile at his gesture. “this okay?” he asks before you nod. him cleaning you up gently.

“maybe it was a good thing with hotel messed up the room huh?” he asks causing you both to smile. he finishes cleaning you up before standing up. “im gonna shower! after you want to cuddle?” he asks grabbing a few things out of his bag. “sounds perfect.” he smiles at your response before running off into the bathroom.

#ateez yeosang #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #yeosang fic #yeosang fluff #yeosang smut #yeosang #yeosang ateez

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rafferty3207 · 9 months

Note

omg I'm the anon who requested the jamie x reader neighbours fic and boy you delivered! fucking love it! can't wait for part 2

This is so lovely anon, I'm so glad you liked it!!! For you, I will deliver a part two with the caveat that I'm so sorry I got carried away and now it will be in three parts (sorry again), but the last part will be the finale!!! Anyway I present to you:

Too Good to Be True (part two)

read part one here

warnings: allusions to abuse, mention of anxiety/panic attack, daddy issues, two hopeless idiots flirting, a bit of angst at the end but worth it (sorry again)

A/N: I have nothing to add except this gif is not mine and has turned me feral

It’s been several days since you left your phone number and you are nervous.

You don’t get why you care so much.

It’s just Jamie, your annoying neighbour. Your annoying, but also extremely handsome neighbour. Your annoying, handsome neighbour who massaged your feet, and your legs, and almost your thighs and god you couldn’t think straight. You’d been able to get nothing done as you had spent the last few days just constantly replaying that evening in your head. And to make things worse, it turns out Annoying Handsome Jamie was in fact a very famous Premier League footballer. Who has also been caught having sex on TV. (Yes, you had binged the entirety of his Lust Conquers All series since that night, but that was neither her nor there.)

After almost a week you had given up. The exhibition was just under two weeks away and you hadn’t seen him in the garden or outside the house at all. He had probably come to the conclusion that you were both too weird and too normal for him and the only conclusion was move on with your life and forget his stupid sexy face ever existed, when you got a text.

u free tonight

Jxoxo

Of course, you wanted to play it cool. After all, you had spent the entirety of the week waiting for this message.

29 minutes and 59 seconds later.

I might be.

The phone immediately pings.

do u not know??

xoxo

Depends, what are you thinking?

thought u wanted a model

Xoxo

Of course, he was thinking about the painting. As you also definitely were. You were a professional artist. Almost.

What time?

ill come after the match

You spend your evening preparing and also perhaps figuring out an outfit that says 'casual bohemian artist that definitely doesn't care' while redoing your makeup twice. However, as the hours stretch on and on and on you are at the point of giving up and going to bed, when the doorbell finally rings.

You race down, before waiting a minute, quickly checking yourself in the mirror and pulling out your phone to pretend you had already been looking at something when you open the door.

But before you can pull the casual act, he walks right past you.

“Hello to you too, Jamie.”

He strides into your living room where the canvas is set up and immediately starts taking his clothes off.

“Woah, what do you think you’re doing there?”

“Er, I thought you were painting nudes?”

“Er no-” At this point his shirt has already come off and he’s starting to unbutton his trousers. Of course he is very toned, with tanned arms and neck where his football shirt has been. You feel the breath knocked out of your body, glimpsing the very top of his boxers as you struggle for words.. He looks at you confused. Eventually you stutter an answer. "K-Keep the trousers on, okay?”

“What should I do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do I pose, like?” You shrug.

“However you want to, Jamie.”

“I dunno what I want.” You sigh.

“You just need to stand there and look pretty.”

“Well I do that all the time, so.”

“Great. So just…keep doing that.”

Jamie smiles to himself.

“What is it?”

“So you do think I’m pretty?” He smirks at you. You fold your arms.

“What are you, a sixteen year old girl Jamie?” You start sketching. “Besides, you know what you look like.” You go back to drawing in silence. You swear you see his cheeks dust pink for a second before he ouffs his chest back out and smiles.

“Aren’t you going to ask if I think you’re pretty?”

You freeze.

“No, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m not sixteen. I am an adult woman and I don’t need random men for unsolicited affirmation, no matter how pretty they are.”

Jamie opens his mouth, before closing it again. Maybe that was a bit harsh, but what else could you say? Tell me how pretty you think I am Jamie. Or better yet, show me. I’m dying to know. You could practically feel the feminism leaving your body.

You dismiss these thoughts and get back to sketching. You can see Jamie is looking down and acting fidgety, swinging his arms.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” You walk over and plant your arms on his shoulders. He is surprisingly warm and firm to the touch, and you try not to blush. “Is it okay if I move you?”

He nods, surprisingly quiet. You turn him ever so slightly, before gently pushing him down onto your stool. As you move one of his (very muscly) arms, you swear you feel a slight tremor. Was he shaking? You step a little closer, a hand on his back.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Jamie.”

His face hardens.

“But I said I will, so I will.”

“But you don’t have to. Only do this if you want to.” You smile at him, and his face softens again.

“I do want to, trust me. It’s just been a long day.”

“Okay, but if you need to stop or take a break, just say the word.”

You step back to your canvas. You try to focus solely on the drawing, but every time he looks at you, you find your whole body heating up. Despite this, you steal glances anyway. He stares at you constantly, in a way that makes you feel stupid and giggly. Observing all the soft and hard lines of his body, you eventually start to notice small scars all over his body until you reach his hands. You don’t know why it took you so long to notice, but his knuckles are slightly bruised.

“Jamie?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me about your day.”

“Why? It was dead boring.”

“I don’t know. I find it helps me find the right mood.” You prepare your brushes. “You know, it tells me what colours to use.”

“Oh. I mean, nothing much happened.” He looks down at his feet. “I got up, went to play football, came here.”

“But why did you text me? Why today?”

“I dunno.” You sit in silence for a moment, as you mix the colours. “I mean, my dad came to the match.”

“Right.”

“Pulled his usual shit.”

“Usual shit?”

“Just being a complete dickhead.” You start painting.

“In what way?”

“Saying stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Just the usual stuff.”

“You keep saying “usual” Jamie. I don’t think whatever he said is usual for most people.”

“What about your dad? He said that thing about you being a teacher right? Because you couldn’t paint or summat?” You put your brush down.

“Yeah he did say that. He says a lot of shit, none of which I would consider usual. Or at least it shouldn’t be.” You step off your chair and towards Jamie, reaching gently for his hand. “We don’t just have to take this shit, you know.”

“I don’t fucking take it!” He pulls away. You flinch back. He looks alarmed as he realises. “I should go.” He starts to walk out.

“Jamie, I didn’t mean to upset you -” You walk after him as he paces towards the door. He halts at the entrance.

“I’m not upset, I just - I came here because I didn’t want to think about my dad. When I’m with you, I never think about him. Or anything else, really.” He pauses. “I’m sorry.” Before you can reply, he runs off.

The next few days pass by. You send a few texts to Jamie, but no reply. The exhibition is only a couple of days away now, so you try to keep yourself busy. But his words won’t stop swirling in your head to the point you struggle to sleep. So you do what you always do: paint.

It’s not until one of these nights when you're up late at the canvas that you glance out of the window. Your heart stops. Someone is lying in Jamie's garden, very still. You dare to look closer. Is that..Jamie? He looks glassy eyed. He can't have...Without thinking, you run down.

"Jamie! Jamie!" Your heart is thumping in your ears so loudly you can't hear anything else. "Jamie are you okay?" You ask as you scramble to climb the fence. However just as you are almost over, you catch your foot, spectacularly falling over it into the bushes. You hear that trademark laugh.

"Why are you laughing? I thought you were dead, dipshit!" You say, crawling out of the shrubbery.

He remains lying down but he’s smiling at you now.

"Why would you think I was dead?"

"Why are you lying in your garden on your back completely still at 2am? Let's not pretend this is normal." You crawl down next to him.

“You’re going to think I’m stupid.”

“No I won’t.”

He looks away from you.

“I mean everyone else does, why wouldn’t you?”

“I don��t think they do.”

“There’s my dad. Plus, I’ve read Twitter.”

“You know how I feel about your dad and Twitter is full of very stupid people. But never mind them. I can promise you I don’t. And let’s be honest, I’m the only opinion that matters.” He scoffs as you offer him a pinky. But, he puts his pinky in yours before looking back up at the night sky.

"I can't get up."

"What? Are you injured?"

“No…I dunno, I told you it was stupid."

“It's clearly not that stupid. Are you okay Jamie?”

"I dunno. I was thinking about the other night with you and my dad and then I came outside because I needed some fresh air and then I lay down and started thinking about everything and now it feels like I'm stuck here. It's stupid -"

“Stop saying that.” You lie down and grab his hand. “Sometimes when you've gone through some shit, it comes out of your body in weird ways. But you're okay. We can stay here for as long as you like, but when we get up, you will be able to.”

He nods, and the two of you lie there holding hands in silence. You take some deep breaths and he follows. Eventually a small voice pipes up.

“I think I can go in now.”

You sit up and slowly pull him.

"See?"

He smiles at you gingerly before he looks down.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Huh?”

You look down. Both your knees are cut, along with one of your palms and your wrist.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

He gently holds your wrist up to the light. He looks sad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I need to work on my graceful dismount. Either that or just walk around to the back door.”

“I mean, I dunno, I think you could give Simone Biles a run for her money.” You swat him.

“Oi, you cheeky shit! Next time I’ll just leave you for dead.”

“I think the blood loss is going to your head, we should treat that ASAP.” He leads you into his house. “I think I’ve got a first aid kit upstairs.”

He starts walking up and you follow him. He seems surprised. You realise your error.

“Oh, I can wait downstairs if you like.”

“Er, no, it’s fine.” He steps into a bedroom and starts rummaging around in what is clearly an ensuite bathroom. You sit on the edge of his bed and look around. There’s pictures of him and his mum, as well as some pictures with the team and one with a slightly older moustachioed man.

“Is that your dad?”

He pokes his head out and laughs.

“No, that’s our coach Ted.” You look up at him. “He’s a nice guy though. Annoyingly nice. Almost too nice, if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” It was clear Jamie was soft on this man, but you wouldn’t push it today. He sits down and starts gently wiping the cuts. It is the same tenderness he held your foot, and it is the same tenderness that is slowly melting your heart. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were starting to fall for Jamie Tartt.

You yawn as he applies the final plaster. “Right, you need to go to sleep.” He says, through his own yawn.

"I could say the same for you"

You sit up to leave, but hesitate. YOu feel Jamie’s about to say something.

“Hey, I don’t suppose.. You’d maybe fancy…”

You turn around.

“Staying around?”

Jamie looks at you pleadingly.

“No funny business I promise.” He looks up and offers you a pinky.

“What if I want funny business?”

“Eh?”

“I’m just messing with you Jamie. Besides, I’ve already stolen your knickers anyway.”

“Someone told me that’s a weird thing to say to people.”

“Well, that person sounds very wise.” You look around. “Can I use your bathroom?”

He gestures towards it and you go in. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you think: what the fuck is going on here? You splash some water on your face and tell yourself to get a grip.

“There’s a spare toothbrush in the blue pot if you need it.” Jamie calls through the door.

“Ew gross Jamie, I don’t want to use one of your many girlfriend’s toothbrushes!”

“I’ll have you know that’s brand new as I don’t have any girlfriends at the moment. Although there are sanitary towels if you need them love.”

“Piss off you patronising git!”

“‘Ey, I was trying to be nice and a good feminist and that.”

You brush your teeth before coming out and leaning against the doorframe.

“No girlfriends? What happened to the Island’s top scorer?”

He groans before flopping back onto the bed.

“I thought you didn’t know who I was.”

“I’ve been doing my research.” You get into the bed next to him. He flashes you a dirty grin.

“Bet you have, you little perv.”

“Me? The perv? What you did in that jacuzzi was a crime to my eyes, and probably in several countries.”

“Woah, you have been doing your research - that was like episode 42? 43?”

“What can I say, you make good television?”

Jamie pulls the duvet back before hovering for a moment.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He gestures to the bed.

“I know. But I’ve been in your position before, and I really needed a friend back then. And I think you would do the same.”

“Any time.”

You squeeze his hand.

“Now go to sleep, you menace.”

“Aye aye captain.”

____

You wake up and find yourself once again not in your own bedroom. In fact, not only are you not in your own bedroom, but you appear to be cuddling Jamie Tartt. You panic silently. Your leg is swung over his, while his arm is draped over you. You try to move, but still asleep, he squeezes you a little tighter. And then something really surprising happens.

He kisses you. Just a little kiss on the forehead, but your chest is fluttering. You hate to admit it but, it feels just so natural. You’re so content and relaxed in his arms then…

Fuck. You fell back asleep. You’re in the exact same problem as before.

This time however, you are both awoken by Jamie’s phone going off. He reaches to switch it off, eyes still closed, but then it rings again. And again. The third time his eyes shoot open.

“Shit!”

“What is it?” You ask from behind bleary eyes.

“The match!”

You slowly sit up and watch him run around and get dressed, silently handing him things on occasion. He runs downstairs and you plod along after him, still half asleep. He runs out of the door, before abruptly stopping and turning around.

“Aren’t you going to wish me good luck or something?”

You wrinkle your nose at him in confusion.

“I don’t need to. You’re going to smash it anyway.”

“How do you know that?”

You shrug and smile.

“I just know.”

At this point, he strides right up to you, before cupping your face in both his hands.

“Jamie what are -” Before you can finish, he kisses you, hard. Your eyes flutter closed and you melt into the kiss, before he pulls away, but only just. His arm reaches around the small of your back and his forehead touching yours, he whispers.

“Wait for me.”

He runs off to his car, and you stroke your bottom lip, where you trace the swell of where he used to be.

Your heart is still pounding and you are unsure what to do with yourself, so you try to make yourself at home. You take a very long, hot shower before getting changed. Of course, you didn’t have any clothes here, so you find some pyjama shorts along with one of Jamie’s old jerseys.

You sit down to watch the match. You had never really gotten into football, but now you were glued to the screen. You couldn’t believe that the little Jamie on screen was the same one who shared a bed with you last night. And the same Jamie that kissed you…

The game is electric, and Jamie in particular is the standout player. Even the commentators remark on his zest this match as he keeps skilfully weaving through the players to lead Richmond into not one, not two but three goals.

Once the match is done, you watch, still glued to your seat when Jamie is invited to an interview.

“Jamie the way you played today was extraordinary, against Man City too. If you don’t mind us asking, what happened?”

“Ah well, I was really inspired by Simone Biles. She’s honestly changed my life.” At that moment, he turns straight to the camera, grins and winks, and you feel like he’s somehow winking right at you. Your heart skips a beat. You were really in trouble.

You look at your phone and Jamie Tartt is trending. Simone Biles herself has already tweeted reminding everyone she is a married woman and has never met Jamie. There are plenty of other women, including some famous other gymnasts and celebrities offering their Biles-like services to Jamie in some rather explicit tweets. You wonder if Jamie reads these ones too.

You walk to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and as you wait for the kettle to boil, you look at Jamie’s calendar. There’s all sorts of notes, primarily training and matchs but you notice your exhibit is there too, with a little heart drawn around it. Jamie never stopped surprising you. But then a cold shock goes down your spine. You remembered today’s date. You are meant to be going to the gallery this evening to plan the exhibition. Shit. You check the time. You’ve still got three hours left, but you need to get back into your flat ASAP. You scramble around before realising that you had left your phone in the flat last night in the chaos to get out. But you also remembered Jamie and what he had said.

Wait for me.

You write a little note and stick it on the fridge.

____

Jamie comes back way later than he planned. Of course, after the match, there were drinks and celebrations but he couldn’t concentrate on them, just trying to leave to get back to you. He finally manages to break away, but when he gets home, he finds the living room empty. He searches around the rest of the house, and you are nowhere to be found. He checks his phone. No messages. He gets a message through from Keeley about how he’s trending online.

Of course he sees all the Simone Biles stuff and smiles to himself. He made a note to send Simone Biles a message in future, if this all worked out. Then he sees all the stuff other women are saying online. A lot of it is quite graphic and he wondered what you’d think. He imagined the two of you laughing together at them. Then he sees. The tabloids are already speculating. Not only do they actually think he’s having an affair with Simone Biles, but they have already posted some paparazzi shot of him with Keeley, along with long extensive timelines of his tumultuous dating history. His stomach drops. Anyone would run away if they saw this much baggage.

He tries to ring you. Once, twice, three times, No pick up. He’s desperate and pacing, until he realises he can just walk over to your front door. He rings the bell several times, before loudly knocking. Still nothing.

He can’t believe how much he’s fucked it. He knew he shouldn’t have kissed you, but he couldn't help it. No one had made him feel like this, like he was going crazy but also that he was calmer than he had ever been, like riding a lifeboat in the centre of the storm. As he walks back into his flat and into his kitchen, he doesn’t see the small corner of a note that has fallen under the fridge. He checks his phone again.

Still nothing. What could he do?

____

Sorry for the angst kids, hope it was worth it and the finale will be juicy!! lmk if you want to be tagged in the final part!! Not sure if I've done these tags right, apols if not!!

@skewedcherries @e-mmygrey @reading-blogs @alex-sulli @cameoutstruggling93 @sqrlgrl22 @maydayfigment @aiyaiy @alipap3 @okkkkkkksure @city-of-cards

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt x reader #fanfic #romance #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt

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soapels · 1 year

Text

flash

john “soap” mactavish x female reader

your good friend soap’s been actin’ a lil weird lately… but as long as you keep pretending otherwise, it’ll be okay. right…?

tw: nsfw/smut, reader has this thing where she playfully calls him soapy, friends to lovers sort of, comrades to lovers, alcohol use, emotional?? mentions of and allusions to mental illness

notes: yall this one took a while to cook up, ngl. but soap doesnt get as much love as he should!! so please accept this tender lil fic and enjoy 😖 and tell me if u enjoyed lol i’d be over the moon ♡ once again, readmore is bugging so…. Sorry 🥲

all hearts, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated!

There’s not much in this world that can ease the trauma that war leaves behind.

You’ve been a part of the team for a while, long enough to walk in on things you shouldn’t have- conversations meant for the higher-ups, things your ears weren’t supposed to hear. And you’ve shut your mouth, zipped it up tight and threw the key to the bottom of the sea by silently walking away from it all.

Sometimes you stumble upon things that aren’t inherently wrong, either- like Ghost winding down one night to a bottle of whiskey, a glimpse of his brown, doleful eyes- but it somehow feels out of place, too.

Nothing ever feels right, around here.

But you don’t want to leave, exactly, truthfully you think a big part of you will always be stuck here with the military and blood and gunpowder, like some dirty stain you can never quite scrub away completely.

And even stranger- you don’t think you’d have it any other way.

You dropped the hypothetical shit a while ago, no more dreams of living at the edge of a city in New York or owning a cozy little cafe like that one Simon particularly liked. Stopped wishing over shooting stars and leaning on pipe dreams of your life after the war’s done.

Because the war’s never really done, and that’s why you can’t go. To suddenly walk away from it all, emerge from a cloud of orange smoke to the suburbs- that’d feel worse than suicide, because you never finished shit, you let it finish you.

You’re not gonna leave first, you decided on your fourth mission, at least not on your own volition. Either you go down with the chaos, or you’re lucky enough and don’t.

And… You walk in on things you’re not always supposed to.

Like Soap hunched over by his bunk one quiet evening, the horizon a burning mess of red and deep tangerine outside the small window, curtains billowing ever so softly in the breeze.

…Doin’ something you still can’t find it in you to say.

And you wanted to do something, upon the door creaking open- pull a lighthearted scare on him like he does you sometimes, but more importantly, tell him that your Lieutenant told you to tell him that he’s on cleaning duty tonight. (He never likes cleaning much, Johnny, but he’s damn good at it- fast, too, probably under the incentive of a good night’s sleep.)

But there’s something in the air- must be- because your knees lock up and you gape at the back of his head, one large hand bracing against the bar of the bed, the other… wrapped around his front, jerking jerking jerking.

Confusion kicks in, for a solid moment as you piece it all together- the lack of a lamp light in the sunset-bathed room, the odd quietness and the precaution stitched in the stiff muscles of his back, shirtless and slightly sweating- and then comes the slow realization.

Common sense strikes you next.

You shut your mouth, turn on your heel, eyes bulging and all, nearly trip over your laces-

“Ah-“

And as the door quietly closes, your petrified gaze meeting Soap’s hazy blue one through the diminishing slit, you know you’ve fucked up.

You hear him call your name just before you go, his voice thick and heady, his Scottish accent just a rasping breath as you blink away the mad blush and counter it back with a frail call over your shoulder.

“Uhm- sorry! Ghost- um- h-he said you’re on cleaning duty!!”

Fuck.

♡♡♡

“All water under the bridge, Soapy.”

You tell him confidently after a whole week of awkwardly skirting around him, pretending he was nonexistent sitting across of you in the truck or plane. Truthfully, you were too embarrassed of your mishap to do much otherwise.

But none of that has to be known, so if he spots the nerves in your eyes, he doesn’t comment on it, and you’d like to think your little grin is convincing enough.

“Y’sure, lass?” He says uncertainly, rubbing the back of his neck as his oceanic hues flit between you and the wall behind you. You nod, sparing a cautionary glance over his shoulder to your comrades swaying around with every bump of the gravel road, bodies knocking together, shoulders brushing and—

“Lass…?”

“Oh,” you blink owlishly, mentally returning back to the male before you, “sorry, guess my mind wasn’t all there.”

“All on good things, I hope?” He offers a half-embarrassed little chuckle there, and when the sentiment clicks, you huff fondly and look away.

“Good things,” you confirm, ever bashful.

And there’s a stretch of peaceful silence; the muted crunch of gravel beneath the big tires, some mild chatter and exchanged banter between your Captain and Gaz (albeit, it comes mostly from Price), and the light rustle of bodies brushing together.

Your mind wanders away in that wordless reprieve, and though you vaguely register Soap’s presence still there- those blue, inquisitive eyes hovering over you- he’s no more than an afterthought as you slowly zone out.

Far. Away.

The glint of the steely rafters overhead. The ripped fabric of the seats. Camo and black and bleakness, everywhere, all the time, no color. You can’t feel your body.

Gunfire. Chaos. Your ears ring, a perpetual bell of terror in your head as adrenaline courses through your veins, fear making its daily rounds within you.

No escape, no red exits or arrows to an end- just you and the field of sand, endless and dry, swarmed with enemies that you can’t find it in you to leave behind for another.

It’s over, something weak and brittle-boned screams inside you, wailing, in the high-pitched voice of a child hiding under the bed. It’s over It’s over It’s over.

It’s over again.

…But he’s there, in all your trembling, concerned sapphire and a boyish sort of gentleness, a gloved hand reaching for you.

(Gunfire, gunfire, gunfire. Something’s nicked your leg, maybe.)

“…You good?”

You gasp inaudibly. Wide, deer-in-headlights gaze meeting a vaguely worried one.

His hand, idly sliding over the length of his gun, almost jitters as he quietly searches you for a sign of response, for a familiar smile or a pleasant little laugh that serves as a salve to his soul.

And for a fleeting, terrifying moment, Soap looks earnestly for life in those e/c hues, and finds grains of sand in his boots.

Your lips curl, ever so slightly, and that curse is broken.

“Yes,” you breathe, lashes fluttering down to the gun in your own arms— much too big for you, heavy, full of bullets named home (because you can’t feel safe without them)— and then your eyes fall to your legs, the camo hiding the healing mass of bandages there.

Soap wrapped most of them.

“Thanks, Johnny.”

When his cheeks dust over an unsuspecting red, you realize you’ve fucked up for the second time this week.

Because nobody calls him Johnny. Nobody but your headstrong Lieutenant.

…Jerking your chin away, wordless and tense in the direction of the vehicle’s driver, Soap can tell you’re sorry.

And he sighs then, exasperated- just as you- yet soft, too. His eyes follow yours, equipment jostling quietly in the droning lull of the long trip ahead.

“…No harm done there, lass.”

There’s a trace of a smile on his lips. Exhausted. True.

♡♡♡

Bruises, cuts, heavy fists and evil intent— literal bullets to the skin- you’ve taken it all, yet none of that seems to matter now, every bad memory bleeding into the swirl of your glass, ice tinkling together as you slowly relax into Soap’s sofa.

It smells of him, you think. Something woodsy and unexplainably Johnny- perhaps a trace of minty aftershave…

You feel nice, slumped back into the cushions in a haze- happy, even. Or perhaps not happy, exactly, but dazed and dumb and good. The sweet-tanged concoction too dizzying to think.

You can’t think; good, it must be.

Soap’s sat next to you, clad in faded denim jeans and a white top that clings loosely to his built muscles. His legs are spread somewhat, long made himself comfortable, thighs thick and strong through the rugged-blue material.

His condition’s not far off from yours, sporting a glass of his own, approaching his fifth of the night, though you suspect he holds his alcohol much better, because you hardly ever drink, and you’re already feeling tipsy after the second shot. Meanwhile, he’s still managing to articulate a sentence, a dopey grin occasionally showing on his face.

Sat at the armchair across the coffee table, Ghost is a stoic wreck of fatigue and relief, steadily nursing a bourbon as Soap babbles on about some old highschool story of his.

It’s probably something funny, something the sober you wouldn’t want to miss, something you’d tuck away in your brain for later to poke harmless fun at your pal with. But you’re so tired and lost and intoxicatedly stupid right now, and for the life of you, you can’t convince yourself to turn over and hear him out.

Later, the hopeful part of you whispers, when you’re less fucked up and leaden. (Later never comes.)

Ghost’s brown eyes are glossy beneath his balaclava, a sort of look kin to post-nut clarity glinting in them as he witnesses the two of you slowly. Processing, processing, processing. As if he’s looking through a pane of glass, not really there, but he feels every crippling sensation all the same and his mouth feels awkward, he’s drunk and his tongue is heavy.

He shouldn’t take another sip. He does anyway.

Maybe he’s not listening to Johnny half-coherently list off fables from his youth, maybe he’s simply existing and basking in the otherwise quiet moment-the temporary peace. And maybe Soap knows his Lieutenant zoned off a while ago, that now no ears in the whole entire world are listening to him spill the humorous side of his heart.

Maybe it doesn’t matter. None of it.

…There comes a point, though, where Soap looks over to you.

Those eyes, a murky, inscrutable sapphire, drag over you. Slowly. There’s something on his mind, something heavy and wild and that he can’t control, yet he doesn’t tell a word of it, and for the life of you, you can’t figure out why.

(You’re drunk anyway, you’re done and over with for the night. So what’s it matter anyway?)

(But it’s Soap, so you want to know.)

Finally, those hazy blues settle on your empty glass, clasped loosely in your fingers.

“…Pour y’another?”

You snort halfheartedly, mustering up a joke. (‘Cept, it’s not really funny, and your words are slurring. You sound stupid, you can’t feel your body. Pop pop pop, gunfire in the distance, playing like a broken vinyl cd in the crook of your head…)

“Soap… I don’t think I can take another…”

His chest rumbles low at that.

“S’pose yer right.”

He’s reaching forward, leaning into the coffee table, snatching a bottle and gesturing to your mug anyway.

You’re smiling like a plastered, exhausted bimbo when you obediently proffer it out to him and watch him fill it up. Slowly, but his strong arm’s a little uncoordinated as he pours it, and he almost spills some.

It’s more than you can ever hope to drink right now, you realize as he sets the whiskey back down, pressing the glass back to you. You think with enough ambition and torturous silence, though, you’ll be able to find way to swallow it all.

(The lot of you are good at that.)

It’s when you take your second sip that Ghost rises from the couch.

“I’m done-in for the night.”

He’s fucked up too, bad, you can tell. But he hides it well, always has, hardly a stumble to his step as he spares you a tired, mutual nod and turns in the direction of the hall.

“Sure, Lt,” Soap calls after him, the two of you watching Simon disappear into the dim glow of the hallway. “There’s blankets in the hall closet if y’get too cold.”

And it’s when you hear the soft click of a door, a bed promptly groaning under a foreign weight, that an unprecedented sense of drunken boldness takes over and you rise.

“Lass-?”

(He’s already poised to reach for you, prepared to follow right behind you should you say the word, if something’s wrong.)

Pop pop pop.

You tip your head back, gulping down the liquid- an evident bit of spice that sears your throat, a complimentary vanilla, too- ‘til you’re staring at an empty bottom.

Turnin’ back to Soap.

Jaw slack, eyes a glossy mess of intoxication and confusion- maybe even worry- Soap looks up at you with knitted brows. Ready to sit you back down, perhaps noticing the quiet war behind your dopey blinks- eager to convince you there’s nothing to be afraid of- he shouldn’t have poured you another, it’s time to hit the hay, maybe—

“Johnny,” you say, and it knocks the very breath out of him, “More.”

…More it is.

He belatedly takes your emptied mug in his hands, almost trembling as he snuffs out all of his internal turmoil and brims your glass with more of that addictive substance.

Pours himself another, too. (Figures he’ll need it to sleep tonight. Though, it’ll hurt like hell in the morning- that’s when he’ll truly pay for it.)

Settling back into the sofa (admittedly not in best shape, leather worn-in, a few scratches), he watches you tap in and out of your beverage, and when your hips start to sway- thin fabric of your nightgown shifting along your thighs- a good piece of him (the last of his rationality) burns with the whiskey at the back of his throat.

Oh, you want to butcher him tonight, don’t you?

There’s no sound, just the pleasant backdrop of rain dripping off the apartment’s roof and the occasional car whistling down the city streets, yet you move like it’s your favorite song.

Lazy, loosely-controlled, like every sentiment flows through you like a conduit.

Brokenness there, Johnny finds snapped twigs and bullet shells and the screams that catch deep in your lungs after another close call. But he discovers hope there too, a courageous peace and a beam of your forgiving moon…

Wants to swim in your waters.

(But you don’t bleed the same chaos he’s realized he can. You reek of immovable innocence; he’s beheaded men and liked it- he’s imagined you outside of your hellish job and shimmied out of those thick fatigues- pictured you naked and happy on his cock. And that lovely gown you’re in now makes you so fuckin’ precious in his eyes…)

(It frames you like an angel. You are, Soap knows. You are. And he deserves no part of it.)

Your body ebbs like a tide.

A gentle, hypnotic lullaby that Soap thinks is awfully inviting, jaw stiff at the way your perky ass tempts him beneath the pale silk, jeans growing a touch tighter as the seconds tick by. (Has he been watching you for forever? Have you been swaying for only a moment? He doesn’t know, but—)

It’s enough.

He rises too, then, large hands meeting the curve of your hips, settling there like he’s belonged for some time, eyes hooded as they sweep over the expanse of your neck and collarbones, point of his nose scraping against the column of your throat.

“Want t’kill me tonight, d’you, lass?”

You almost pause for a moment at his touch, he can feel it in the way you stiffen, the faint shiver of your spine. But you don’t let his presence stop you, and for that he’s ever thankful.

“No,” you breathe, and it’s just as soft as it is drunk.

Slurred, and falling apart, still you’re a sight for sore eyes, the callous pads of his fingers slowly riding down the plush of your thigh… “Never, Soapy.”

Soapy. What a fucking nickname. Probably one of the stranger things he’s gotten hard at- not that he’s complaining, because though for anyone else it wouldn’t slide, it sounds so sweet leaving your lips.. makes warmth furl out in his chest…

Hands roaming, roaming, and roaming some more.

Stopping midway, where the frilly hem of that tantalizing gown lies…

Testing your waters, though he wants nothing more than to pull the fabric off you and dive right in.

“Gorgeous thing,” he murmurs back, this time into the side of your jaw, his lips smushing into your cheek as he insinuates himself behind you. Wonderin’ if you fully realize the persistent bulge at your rear-side and if you do, whether or not you like it.

(D’you want him, too? Oh, fuck, he hopes you want him, too. Don’t know what he’ll do otherwise…)

When his thumb grazes against the smooth skin of your belly and you offer no rebuttal, he relaxes some behind you, blood roaring through his ears (down south, too). Hoping you’ll be impossibly generous with him, even if just for tonight, even if you’ll both forget it all by the morning and this little daydream of his will be swept under the rug ‘til he stumbles again and needs to revisit it.

“Fuckin’ hell, lass…” he sort of groans. “Sway those hips s’more for me, yeah…?”

You’re too good, he thinks as you lean back into him and give him just what he asked for, you’re too good and now he’s hot and needy for you. Only you. (Why’s it only ever you?)

The alcohol’s getting to his head, his mouth feels fuzzy and his throat is cotton but he likes it- the embers licking at the pit of his belly doing no favors for his intoxication.

M’ drunk off you, lass. He wants to say, or at least something of the sort. But his lips are sealed, and the patters of rain stay steady outside. And not a word comes out.

Not until his hips start grinding against yours, hands hungrily groping up to the mounds of your tits, and you mewl. You fucking mewl. A soft whine, hardly a breath, really- but it’s somehow satisfied and greedy all at once and Soap knows right then that you need him just as he needs you.

(You need him.)

“Fuck, Y/n,” he grunts, voice thick with arousal, low with remnants of exhaustion. “Let me take ya to m’ room… Please?”

And you do, obedient as he flips you around, carefully hoisting you up, palms cupping the unders of your thighs as he heads off in the direction of the hallway.

He wants to kiss you, to twirl his tongue with yours and taste the sweeter option of liquor you let him pour you tonight, he wants to do everything he’s ever wanted to with you- but he doesn’t.

Sex is one thing- to fuck you is already worse enough but at least he could chalk it up to just blowing off some steam. But kissing... That crossed a whole different line and leapt over into something far more personal.

You two will be in big trouble should Ghost suddenly emerge from the guest room and find you- you’re certain this isn’t allowed, but Soap’s arms are setting you down on his bed and his mouth is suckling at your neck and you like it.

But—

“Johnny,” you whine breathlessly. He somehow, amidst the inebriation and the heady poke of your breasts against his chest- the sin of his name on your tongue- recognizes the hesitance there and finds it in him to pause.

“What?” Voice all raspy and fucked-up. Impatient, slightly harsh.

(But his heart is running so fast it echoes in his brain.)

“This is-…” you swallow. “This is wrong.”

Johnny sighs. “Lass,” the backs of his knuckles brush over your cheek, up along your jaw ‘til his fingers are stroking back your hair, and his eyes are a tsunami, roaring waves folding over a gentle tide as he peers at you.

(Fuck, he sees you. He totally, fully sees you.)

Pupils a blown-out mess of adoration and tenderness and something deeper you can’t quite place.

“M’fraid it all is.”

His lips ghost over yours- for a moment he almost sinks his teeth into the softness there, but at the last second they shift gears and descend upon you, placing a flurry of pecks on your tummy. Down down down, ‘til he’s rucking up your gown and the tip of his nose is burrowing into the dip of your panties- the wetness there exacerbating his raging hard-on.

You shiver violently at his touch, lazily propped up on your elbows as you gape down at him. Your fingers find his head, tangling into his mohawk, grazing against the shaved hair. His eyes glow like a beast, large palms dragging your hips in, bracing into your thighs.

His eyes roll back some at your touch. The gentleness you regard him with in those shimmery eyes of yours- you’ve had him on a tight leash for a while now. He hopes you know, and wonders if you’d loosen his chains a little, just to free him some. (Does he even want to be free?)

“Johnny, I…” (The intensity in his gaze so heady and endless you can’t muster up a proper sentence.)

“…Can make y’happy,” he huffs out, then, his hot breath melding against your clothed pussy- needy and aching for your usually-cheery comrade. “Can make ya cum on my tongue, if that’s what y’want.”

The moon slivers in through the still curtains. His words are slurred. Johnny is so drunk. You are, too. You’ll regret this tomorrow morning if you remember. And you will, of course you will, because you remember everything. (Least, all the things you shouldn’t…)

Johnny, though- cheeks a ruddy mess of infatuation and tender, overwhelming arousal- is worth all of it.

“I jus’ want you,” you breathe incoherently after a belated beat of silence.

There’s a split second of nothingness- where Soap has to piece together your sloppy (yet no less sincere) whisper-

And then there’s a broken little whimper on his end. His fingers hooking into the hem of your panties and tugging ‘em down- vicious, almost. No more waiting. You asked too nicely for him to turn you down anyway.

“You’ll get me.” He whispers coarsely. He hikes your legs up over his shoulders, fumbling flat onto his tummy- still, somehow careful of the bandages around your knee- and doesn’t waste any time.

Diving in, placing a preparatory kiss to to your clit before nuzzling into your folds—

Your head immediately thrashes into his pillows, jaw gaping as you stifle a desperate moan, eyes pinned to the ceiling.

“Oh, Johnny,” you whine, and your voice is so thin- skin so glassy in the flicker of the moon- that he’s sure one wrong touch will break you entirely.

(And he wants to break you, maybe. If only to put your pieces back together, bring you to beautiful ruin on his cock and tongue and fingers and soul, just so he can recombine you after all is said and done. Be the one to kiss away your tears, pocket them like souvenirs- whenever he feels particularly awful he can pull them out and remember how they made your eyes shine like magic 8balls. And for a moment, all the wrong will fade.)

“That’s it, pretty gal,” his palms hold your quivering thighs apart, keeping you mostly steady beneath him. But when he shifts, teases his index finger at the core of you and sinks it in- so deep- so much longer than yours- you let out a shivering moan that the back of your hand can’t hold.

He hushes you, briefly pulling away from your pussy, and you think you hear something close to love there. “Hush, lass,” he whispers. “Much as I want t’hear ya, word gets out to Shepherd and we’re done for.”

Soap gets a shaky, long exhale in return, and from where he lies between your legs, he watches your tummy stutter with every breath, breasts torturing him with every jostle.

“I don’t think I can take it.” You confess.

(Fuck, he has to ruin you.)

He sighs deeply. “You will…”

You beg him a lot; small fingers fisted in his stripe of hair, unwittingly tugging and whining as quiet as you could, that he’d save you the hell and give his cock to you already. But it’s only after you’ve come undone on his tongue that he finally indulges you- though he’s more than willing, fumbling for his slacks as he settles you back down, nose brushing against yours as he lines himself up.

“Tell me you still want it…”

“I want you,” you breathe.

He’s kissing you, cock pushing in with a feral little growl that rocks the both of you, muffled in the swirl of your tongue as his hips meet the underside of your thighs. He pushes ‘em to your chest.

“Fuck, lass, wanted to do this for a while,” he confesses in a breathy sort of whine, and when you whimper confusedly back he pulls away some, gives you a shaky nod. His balls are tight already, belly flipping with arousal and lust and the pure need to fill you up.

“Mhm,” he hums, all reassurance, gentle, uncoordinated fingers smoothing back your hair as he drinks in the sight of you. Perfect beneath him, eyes hardly meeting his, lashes dewy with pleasure- all given by him- breasts jostling like a treat as he drives himself into your warmth.

As tender as he can make it, as good as he can hold back.

“Thought about this for too long. Was so afraid that evening you walked in on me— ah— but… suppose you wanted it too, yeah?”

He’s kissing you again. Why’s he kissing you again-?

“I want ye,” he murmurs against you, and you’re trying so hard not to make a peep, gnawing on your love-swollen lips when Soap finally pulls away for oxygen- but perhaps something inside him snaps, looking down at you, ruined by his hand, because the next thing he says—

“Fuckin’ hell- don’t hold back, lass, don’t care who hears anymore,” he near begs, low voice rubbed raw with alcohol and, well, the sight of you, raising a pitch.

“Y’sound so pretty, so fuckin’ good, just let me hear you…”

And the pathetic part is- he’s already getting close, already feels that niggling, simmering sensation clutching in the pit of his belly as he rams his length in and out of you, watching your pretty face contort with pleasure— all given by him— and—

And when you finally unhook your bottom lip from your teeth and loose a whimpering, wanton moan for him, he comes on the spot.

Witnessing the twisted, cloying expression he makes as he lets out a long, feral groan, you think you come, too.

(Sure felt like it anyway- on Soap’s end, too. Fuck.)

But he just collapses over you, letting your sweaty skin fold against his as he burrows into the crook of your neck, suckles little red and pink marks that’ll linger tomorrow, and the next day, and the next…

“Yr’gorgeous,” he murmurs, leaning away some to look you in the eyes.

His glitter with warmth- you suspect he might’ve hidden a tear in the juncture of your neck- and they harbor this unmistakeable, eddying flash of love.

“You know that, yeah? …How gorgeous y’are?”

His pupils are blown wide, swallowing up a ring of baby blue. His calloused palms hold you close. So close. You can’t leave, you think, can’t squirm away even if you wanted to— not in Johnny’s grasp.

You muster up the sweetest, most fatigued little smile, and send it his way. “I-I know, Johnny.”

He shifts one final time, grinning tiredly (still, he’s won a medal, tonight, the best he could’ve ever aspired for) as he makes himself comfortable behind you- still tucked inside you- and wraps his strong arms ‘round your torso.

The bed creaks once more- loud, may you add, because Johnny stopped—

“Bloody hell! Go to sleep, will ya?!”

#call of duty #cod x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap smut #soap mw2 #soap cod #ghost #simon riley

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atom-writings · 7 months

Note

Can I request the allies helping their S/O when their depression keeps them in bed for a few days, which isn't normal for them.

hetalia allies when their s/o is going through a depressive episode

1.8k words ~ gender neutral scenarios

tw: theyre not always the best but they figure it out (:

a/n: hope this was ok. if u want just like, comfort, thats cool and i can do that too seperately (: but anon i totally get i got crippling depression too. were alll in this togeeethherrr

America

Depressive episodes were nothing out of the usual for you. What was out of the usual though, was just how horribly this one was hitting you. But it seems like the person who it hurt the most, was Alfred.

Once you began spending the majority of your time in bed, he began to bother you incessantly. It'd be more annoying for you if it wasn't clear just how much Alfred was panicking.

Every day he returned from home to find you in your miserable state, he would question your sudden episode over and over again until one of you fell asleep. He offered to take you somewhere, to buy you everything, anything to get you back to normal. No matter how much you insisted that none of that would help, he continued.

That was until one day, upon his return from work, he didn't immediately come up to interrogate your lack of motivation. From your shared bed, you could vaguely hear him fumbling around downstairs. After a while, his footsteps finally echoed up the stairs.

Your door creaked open slowly, revealing Alfred awkwardly carrying bags of snacks as well as a TV. He rushed forward to throw everything on the bed before starting to hook up the TV in front of the bed.

“Alfred?”

“Yeah?“

”What are you doin'?“

”Making this room fun to be in,” He answered bluntly, but his tone was kind.

After a minute, he finished setting up the TV and crawled into bed with you. Before you could say anything, he pulled you flush against his side.

“Staying in here is no good for you, but at least there's ways to make it... less bad.” He told you softly.

You took a moment to respond, ”Can... can you stay in here with me?“

”I'll stay in here until you're ready to leave, K?“

England

As soon as your illness began to rear its ugly head, Arthur took notice. It's not like it hadn't happened before, after all. The unusual eating habits, the exhaustion, how less excited you would become over things you love, it's all typical. So he would help the way he usually did.

If you're too tired for work or school, he gets you out of it. If you're hungry, he makes whatever you want anytime. If you're slacking on chores, he makes up for it two-fold.

The entire time you spend gloomily sitting on your phone or watching TV, Arthur is running from place to place in a panic. It's clear why, he's just desperately trying to ”solve“ your sadness. After all, over his many periods of depression, he always works himself to the bone to get through them. He struggles to understand how you can just... sit there.

But of course, that's not how human depression tends to work. Seeing him so motivated did nothing but make you more insecure about your own sudden ”laziness.” Living in an incredibly clean house only helps for so long until it starts feeling weird.

The only place safe from his worried frenzy was the bedroom, where you lay nearly all day. It was quiet there, at least. Not frustrating like everything else. That was until Arthur interrupted your silence by joining you in bed with a huff.

“Love, you've been in here all day.”

You didn't respond, simply nodding and rolling to face away from him.

“What's wrong?”

Still, no response.

He grabbed your shoulder lightly, trying to pull you to face him.

“What is it?”

“You know what's wrong.”

He sighed, before laying down as well. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, his soft breath hitting the back of your neck as his heart beat against your back.

“I guess a better question would be... do you want to talk about it?”

You pause, ”Not really...“

”Well, I'll be here with you until you do.“

”No running around?“

He chuckles, ”No, I'll stay here. After all, you're strong... I imagine this won't last forever, right Love?“

France

Francis is a sensitive person, but most importantly he's an emotionally intelligent one. He notices as soon as your depression begins to get bad again, and he always tries to do little things to help. But... he knows that you're the one who's had to live in your head for years. The only reason he would go out of his way to help is if you asked him to.

Which you usually don't. It never seems to stay unbearable long enough for you to justify asking him, even though he's made clear he's always willing to do anything for you.

But this time is different, it feels as if your thoughts can't stop, no matter what you do. Even as you rest in bed, you only get more and more tired, more angry and miserable. Francis noticed this... but he wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want him to.

At least, that's how he thinks usually. But now, seeing his beloved sobbing for the 15th day in a row, he decided he had to do something.

Early in the morning, before the sun had fully risen, you were awoken by Francis's smiling face.

”Time to get up!“

”No-“

You were swiftly cut off by him grabbing your arms and pulling you upwards.

”I've set out clothes for you. We're going somewhere.“

You shook your head, ”W-Where? I'm tired-“

”It's gonna be fun! I'll buy you coffee on the way, don't worry.“

So up you were, regardless of your protests.

An hour-long car drive later, and you understood why he was so enthusiastic about going here. Before you stood the most stunning valley you had ever seen, surrounded by perfectly green trees and water so blue you could've sworn it was fake. But the breeze flowing through your hair said otherwise.

“While we walk to the beach, you can tell me all about what's wrong, okay?” He locked his hand around yours.

Sure, it didn't solve everything. But... it was better than the bedroom.

China

Yao doesn't really... understand what depression is. When you tell him it's a “mental illness” all he understands is “illness.” So the moment things start getting worse for you, he's recommending all the things he learned to make sick people better.

If it gets to the point of being bedridden, he acts like you're gonna die. Which is obviously not very... comforting. So after many times of you telling him to leave you alone, he's gotten used to popping in every couple of hours with tea, but that's it.

After all, you're usually back to your normal self pretty quickly. But this time, he can tell something's off; and he's not about to let you wither away.

So, one morning, you're awoken to a delicious breakfast already in your lap and Yao sitting in front of you, looking like a kid on Christmas.

“Wh- Yao? Why did you...”

“You haven't been eating enough, and I don't want you getting tired soon.”

You looked at him suspiciously, “Why?”

“We have plans.“

”Good plans or bad plans?“

”Good plans! What do you think of me?“

Once you finished eating breakfast, he dragged you out of bed. No matter how much you protested, his grip on your hand was strong. He brought you to the other side of the house, into his already set-up studio.

”What are we doing in here?“ You ask nervously.

”Getting you out of bed,“ He responds quickly, gesturing to the yoga mat set up next to his.

All you could was sigh and stand next to him, waiting for instruction.

”Do we really have to do this?“

He nods, spreading his legs to the side and reaching down with one hand. Looking up at you expectantly, he smiled.

”It keeps you spry,“ He switched sides, ”It keeps you healthy.“

”I'm really not in the mood,“

”Trust me.“

With a huff, you slowly worked your creaking body into the same pose he pulled.

”I can't stand to see you suffer in that room.“

”It's not fun on my end either.“

”I love you. I wish you would tell me how to help.”

You groan as the next pose he demonstrated stretched you a little bit more than what was comfortable.

“You can't 'help.' Just gotta wait it out.“

He took a moment to respond, “Well, I suggest you wait it out in ways that get your mind off everything. Like this.”

“It's helping the tiniest bit, I guess...”

He chuckled, “We will keep working at it until you feel better. No matter how long it takes.”

Russia

When your depression gets bad, it seems to be obvious to everyone... except Ivan. Despite you bringing it up to him, he either doesn't know what to do... or he doesn't care. The possibility of the latter doing nothing to make you feel any better.

Even as you spend all day laying in bed, crying constantly, he doesn't seem to notice. He just acts like you aren't... suffering. That stings, a lot more than anything else creating this depressive episode.

But after a week of this unending gloominess, you get a strange text from Ivan.

“Come downstairs.”

Weird and annoying... but more importantly ominous. It takes you only a second to throw on a hoodie and rush downstairs. You can't hear his usual humming, and the house seems completely still as you search for him. But when you look out the back window, you see him.

As you enter the backyard, you fully see what he was doing.

In the middle of the yard, he set up a picnic. Surrounding him is a mountain of bright flowers, and tens of little plates bearing your favourite sweets lay on the light blanket.

“Come sit, darling.”

You would be foolish of you to not oblige. Once you sat down next to him, he reached out to stroke your cheek lovingly.

”What is torturing you so horribly?“

You took a deep breath, “Where to start?”

“Wherever you want,” he clucks his tongue sympathetically, resting his hand on your thigh.

“Y-You know... I thought you didn't care. You've been so... normal...”

Ivan looks awkward, averting his gaze, “I didn't want to make it worse. You're so strong, I knew you could get through it on your own. I'm sorry.”

“I can.... but I don't want to...”

He leans forward, kissing your forehead.

”I promise, now, you will never deal with anything alone.“

”You're sure it won't be too much?“

”Never. Never too much.“

hey there. its gonna get better. its gonna be different. but its gonna get better. there are hundreds of people youre gonna meet, and hundreds of places youre gonna go, and its gonna be amazing. one day youll wake up and realize everything is alright. because youre gonna be ok.

#heta tag #hetalia imagines #hetalia x reader #ivan tag <3 #aph russia x reader #hws russia x reader #arthur tag #aph england x reader #hws england x reader #alfred tag #aph america x reader #hws america x reader #yao tag #aph china x reader #hws china x reader #francis tag #aph france x reader #hws france x reader #not proofread at all

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formulawonu · 2 years

Note

can i request seventeen asking for cuddles after a nightmare 🥺🥺🥺

seventeen & nightmares

a/n: bye this prompt is so cute 😭 i got carried away idk why this became so long :( also idk why tumblr is glitching and formatting stuff weird

seungcheol: would 100% try to make it seem like he just wants to cuddle nothing suspicious ha haha... then when ur both trying to go back to sleep he whispers "honestly i just had a nightmare" :/ poor baby let him cuddle u all night long!!!! on the other hand if u have a nightmare he is ur #1 protector. do u need the lights on do u need water do u wanna talk? oh u just want to cuddle? HE CAN DO THAT

jeonghan: it happens in the middle of the night and it is the faintest of movement from him because he doesn't want to wake you but he makes sure you're right next to him and he pulls you in closer and eventually leaves a kiss on ur head just thankful u are there. but he'd tell u about it in passing the next morning acting like it wasnt anything so u dont worry :/ IM GONNA KMS and if its u with the nightmare you'd shake him awake and he'd ask u whats wrong in his sleepy voice but listen and talk to u however long u need to fall back asleep while cuddling u:/ f m l

joshua: STOP he would get up immediately and open all the lights to make u feel better :/ he'd make u sit up then get you water and rub ur back if its a super bad nightmare just so u know everything is gonna be okay :( would also be willing to do something random even if its the middle of the night to get ur mind off of it... like would bake warm cookies with you or smth ahhahah if he has a nightmare i think he'd try to wake u up like once but if u dont wake up he'd be content with just cuddling closer to u and falling asleep with his arms around u. ur his comfort pillow

junhui: waking junhui up because of a nightmare would be funny because he's clearly disoriented from being woken up all of a sudden but he's trying his best to make sense of why he's awake dkufgjhshf "HUH WHAT DO U MEAN SOMEONE CHASED U JUST NOW DO I CALL THE COPS?" takes him a min to process but comforts u the best way he can:/ he'd give good cuddles:( i think if he was the one with the nightmare he wouldnt really wake u or mind if ur half-asleep but he'd be talking about it out loud while playing with ur hair just so he could calm down and process it on his own

hoshi: he'd wake you up in the middle of the night so u both could process what the nightmare meant and you'd probably lie in bed just talking about different things to get his mind off of it:( he'd be playing with your hand and muttering random things solely saved for sacred late night conversations and moments. ur the bigger spoon when u eventually go to sleep n cuddle. if u have the nightmare he'd try his best to listen to u but i think he'd be falling asleep 😅 however its like second nature for him and he gives u one of the best cuddles ever

wonwoo: DONT GET ME STARTED ON HIM like if you had a nightmare and you wake him up and tell him about it he'd find a way to make it sound like a good thing like that time seungkwan had that nightmare of wonwoo and he said it meant something good djshfdjkfh he'd also drop everything to cuddle u and hum u to sleep:/ if he has the nightmare he honestly wouldnt wake you up to ask for cuddles bc he doesnt wanna bother u I FEEL ILL 😭😭😭 like the only way u find out he's had a nightmare is if he tells u abt it the next day or u personally wake up to his movement in the bed and see he's sitting up reading or using his phone to get his mind off of it:/

woozi: be REAL u had the nightmare and he would give up his personal space to cuddle u:/ "jihoon are u awake..." "no" "please i had a nightmare" he'd immediately sit up and ask you if you wanna talk about it or how he could help you and when u say u just wanna be near him he'd give in and cuddle because duh hes a simp 🙄 if he has a nightmare he honestly just pulls u in closer in bed

minghao: hao would be so sweet about it like i think he would know ur having a nightmare before u even wake up and he'd shake u lightly because he's that receptive of u and how u are dhjfgfksj like he'd be all "babe its okay i think u were having a nightmare" then he's hugging u or rubbing ur back UGH but if he had the nightmare i think he's another one that wouldnt wake you up.. he'd get up drink some tea to calm himself down then get in bed and naturally cuddle up to u help

mingyu: ok thing is u NORMALLLY cuddle with this man but the grip he has around u specifically after a nightmare (regardless of if u or he had it) is strong and secure and everything is suddenly right with the world as long as u are in his arms dksfjhdsdfj but it'd also go like "i had a dream ~this~ happened" and he would say "ok but logically that can't happen" ok thanks mingyu! big help! but he just wants to make sure ur okay anyway:/

seokmin: he'd be so cute uisdkhjfsdkrfjh like ur there telling him about ur nightmare and he's trying his best to listen and be supportive but he's also scared out of his mind bec of the contents of ur dream so now he's lost in his thoughts and u both are scared hjdgfdjh same goes for if he has the nightmare 😭 but the cuddles are extra tight and u guys just keep talking in bed until u drift off into bed i can imagine it going "hey are u still awake im still scared" "i was FALLING ASLEEP" "ok but im still scared" kdfjhdfkgjh

seungkwan: he'd try his best to make u laugh if u woke him up after a nightmare :( like he'd get up and pretend to look under the bed start fighting an imaginary whatever in mid air and get mad ydfhgkfd "ok come out let me fight u" he'll have u laughing but also intently listening to whatever nightmare u had bec he cares :( if he had a nightmare he'd wake you up also n he might be crying :( he'd be talking about it and he'd pull u into his arms while just talking about it. just be there for him and tell him its gonna be ok :( kwannnieeeeeee :(

vernon: THIS MAN. he would actually be such a good listener its just that i also think he generally wouldnt know what to say??? like he knows he wants to comfort u and be there for u but also its several taps on the back and "errr dont worry it wasnt real..." or he'd just straight up ask u how he can be there for u :( if u ask him for cuddles i think he'd overthink it and u would feel him be more stiff than usual bc he doesnt know how cuddles logically help u get over nightmares ukdsjfhsd which is why i think vernon honestly just wakes up from a nightmare processes that its a nightmare and goes back to sleep period

dino: he is internally panicking bec wtf no one told him how to help someone else deal w nightmares how does HE even deal with nightmares???? but he'd be so cute trying to make u feel better :( but u wouldnt have to ask for cuddles honestly like his caring nature means he naturally pulls u in and keeps u there until ur fast asleep again ugh dhkdsfh if he has the nightmare i think he'd sit up then check to make sure ur there then cuddle u again :( he'd try to go back to sleep but if he really cant he'd wake u up and say sorry for waking u up jahjashdkjsh

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chl-owo-e · 1 year

Note

heyy could you do fem reader and spencer with promt 5? i want to protect him all the time lmao

ME TOO! HES BAEBIE AND NEED PROTECTION ALL TIMES DJFJDJDNDN

———————————————————————

〔Protection〕

(Spencer Reid x Protective! Reader)

Warnings; Fluff, Angst? (Idk if u can call it that) basic Criminal Minds shit,

5.) I will protect you until my last breath

~Check out the promt list~

———————————————————————

—The whole BAU team was out on a case back at Texas. Where there were serial kidnappings with a group of people. Most being male and maybe two or three being female. When the team figured out what was the reason why they were taking children they immediately ran out to one of the holding places that was listed on the paper Garcia gave them.

Now Y/n was in the black SUV with Morgan and Spencer as they went over the case trying to reassure themselves that the kids were ok. Once the car came to a screeching halt everyone speedily opened the doors and ran straight towards the entrance of the weird wooden shed like building that was surrounded by a wooded area. While Hotch and the rest of the team met them soon after. “This place looks too small to hold 13 kids.” Spencer tells the group as Hotch commands the police force to search the perimeter.

“There has to be another place, maybe a different area they’re being held.” JJ adds with confusion written on her face. “Theres not, I know theres not. I can feel it in my gut, they’re here.” You say with pure confidence. “Morgan, kick the lock in.” Hotch orders him with his normal scorn on his face. Emily and Spencer stand away from the doors with their guns out for precaution. Morgan was the first to see that there was a stairway in the middle of the small shed.

He looks back towards Hotch with concern all over his face. “Lets go.” Hotch says and follows Morgan, Emily and, JJ down the steps. You stop Spencer for a second. “Stand behind me at all times ok Spence? I cant have you getting hurt or killed even.” Your voice comes out with worry. “I know, I know, Ill be safe, come on we dont have a lot of time.” Spencer groans out in annoyance.

Now the two of you were tailing the group, following the loud clears everyone has been yelling out. With Spencer trailing behind you, the both of you check out the dark room. With your gun pointed forward you continue as your flashlight lightens up certain parts of the room. A bash to the back of your head happens quick. Too quick for you to react and fight back.

Everything happened so fast, the handle of the gun digging into your skull. The fact that the guy had faster reflexes than Spencer could react. Soon the sound of a gun shot filled the room. Next was Spencer calling out your name and finally tackling the guy. You were currently gripping your right shoulder in pain, too focused on not passing out you barely notice the rest of your group running in and capturing the guy. Hotch and Spencer were crouching next to you. Hotch was yelling through his walkie-talkie for a ambulance and Spencer was putting all his focus on placing pressure on the wound.

Your mouth opens with your voice barely audible. “I didn’t even see him.” You coughed and groaned. “Y/n stop talking!” Spencer panics as he puts more pressure on the wound. “You know I love you right?” Tears were at the brink of your eyes. Everything felt hot, then cold, and all of a sudden it was black. “Y/n…?Hey, Y/n.” Spencers heart drops, you weren’t awake your pulse is shallow and your face is pale. Spencer didn’t want to lose you, he cant lose you.

Your blood was all over him during the whole ride to the hospital. He was basically soaked to the neck down. Spencer sat in the very uncomfortable chair next to your bed with you lying in it. The doctors said you had a very slim chance of making it, but Spencer was holding onto that strand like it was the last thing he ever knew. He gently held onto your cold hands looking at every detail, taking everything in.

“Like I said, Ill protect you until my last breath.”

Spencers head snaps towards the groggily voice. “Y/n! Youre ok! Oh my god, ok- uhhh.” Spencer panics having no idea what to do next. “Water, please?” You whine, and he gladly hands you a cup. You scarf down the whole thing as Spencer rambles about what happened when you got shot. You never seen him like that, never so all over the place with his mind racing. Even though he’s always all over the place this was different.

“Wait- let me get a nurse or a doctor and tell them you’re awake.”

———————————————————————

AN; this is unedited and ik there are probably parts where it doesn’t make sense but i just wanted to post something before i go to sleep

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid 📚👓#spencer reid x y/n

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actualbird · 10 months

Note

this sounds rly weird to say but stick with me - i wish luke would get ill in canon. obviously he has a terminal illness which would weaken his immune system and while it’s great he’s physically fit i mean SURELY he’s way more susceptible to getting seriously ill from a cold/the flu, right?? idk i think i just want to see him being taken care of bc he deserves it but also i do like the idea of him being taken care of by the nxx and them looking out for him when he gets seriously ill from a virus/bug etc etc

i got this ask Before main story 9 dropped but only after did i wanna answer it because i totally feel u.....

i feel like tot doesnt let luke get smaller ails in canon because hes already dealing With The Big One Thats Killing Him (any more wld be overkill?). and though it's also true that neurological conditions dont necessarily always affect the immune system, it's still a dang shame cuz like u, i'd adore a story where it's the others taking care of him when hes down with a bad case of the flu....and given recent main story events, i reALLY WOULD LIKE TO SEE THE TEAM HELP LUKE WITH A LOW-STAKES AIL :(((

in true luke fashion, he'd probably keep it under wraps and make excuses until his absence at an nxx meeting cannot be ignored and they crash his apartment to see him in a MISERABLE little pile of blankets trying to remedy this by himself

mc: why didnt you tell us!!!! >:O

luke: it's not a big deal :( it's just the flu and already called aaron for doctor's advice and meds and everything, i can take care of myself

vyn: have you been hydrating?

luke, nervously: ..............yyyyyes?

artem, looking in his fridge: theres nothing in here but peanut's treats, what have you been feeding yourself?

luke, still nervously: ffffood?

marius, finding a pack of sliced bread near his bed: dude, have you just been eating bread???

luke, increasingly nervously because hes fighting for his life out here: i cant stomach anything else for some reason!!!

mc: uh huhhhh, you seem to be doing a Great job at taking care of this yourself :/

luke: ;-;

cue the team helping out: helping in cleaning the place up (when luke is miserable his place gets even Messier), cooking simple foods (artem's soup to the rescue), etc etc. luke would be So apologetic during the whole thing, constantly apologizing for being a bother, which is both depressing and grating to hear. mc almost wants to take two piece of sliced bread and sandwich luke's face in them to tell him "STOP SAYING SORRY!!!" but she knows thatll probably make him feel worse, so she restrains herself

for all luke's apologizing, he does feel better with the team helping out. but then he feels bad about feeling better (because HOW DARE HE....AFTER HE INCONVENIENCED THEM ALL!!!) and it's this terrible ouroboros of shame

eventually, mc sends the other boys out on a grocery run to help stock luke's fridge with fruits and other good snacks-for-sick-person, and alone in luke's apartment she sits next to him.

mc: hey, tell me the truth. you knew you were doing a cruddy job at looking after yourself, you knew you shouldve asked for help. why didnt you?

luke: ...i dont...like it...i dont like you or the others seeing me like this

mc: pathetic?

luke: i mean, yeah. but i meant....sick. i dont like you guys seeing me sick. because of, yknow.....being sick and useless and helpless, it feels like a prelude, and everyone else is burdened picking up the pieces around me.

mc: oh

luke: yeah

mc: hm. youre an idiot

luke: ????

mc: i cant speak for the others, but i can tell you that i surely dont mind seeing you like this if it means i can help. dont you always tell me to rely on you more? how about you return the favor, luke. let us help, sometimes. let me help.

and we all know shes way too good at setting up a winning argument.

by the time the others get back, luke is a more cooperative patient and a less-apologetic one. in the back of his mind, he figures it cant hurt to let himself feel okay getting help every once in a while.

#tears of themis #if theres no comfort in main story then homemade is fine...#luke pearce #tot rosa #asks #anon #tot luke #xia yan

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the-magicians-blue · 2 years

Note

hey. ill give u some candy if u make more micah yujin content pspsps

👀 I would like twix please and thank you. Speaking of sweet things…

ALSO TWO POSTS IN ONE DAY WHO ARE THEY???

5:37pm

The biggest surprise Micah got when he started dating you was how sweet you actually are and how much you’re into him. He knew you liked him, but it’s not until you become a little more open and honest with him that he feels you love for him is as deep as his love for you. Of course the feisty side of you is still there and he still finds your back and forth banter exciting and sexy but BOI does he love your sweeter side. You were so gentle with him sometimes he felt one day he’d just melt and turn into a puddle of Micah. He’d like to think you’d still love him though.

You always make a point to set time aside to spend with him, even if its just a movie and cuddles before bed or a long video call on nights when he can’t be with you physically. He swears he was sent to heaven when he noticed your planner had ‘Micah Time <3’ on literally every day. Like how can someone be that cute??? He doesn’t get it??? Of course he never tells you that he saw your planner but every now when you call him or join him on the couch he’ll casually ask:

“Oh? Is it Micah time Angel? Good. I missed ya~”

To this day you aren’t sure if its a coincidence or if he knows.

On days where you’re both free to spend more time together sometimes you take him off guard with having something planned for you to do together. His favorite is when you find a desert recipe to try and make. He loves sweets and cooking. Adding you to the mix makes them a million times better for him. You two made a cake together once for his birthday and it became his favorite birthday gift to date.

Of course you being sweet doesn’t bar him from teasing you. The one thing he will never let you live down was when he caught you simping over him while gaming on call with your friend. You thought he was in the kitchen and you were in the clear to talk about him. Little did you know the sneaky man had decided to record your call onto his computer while you were distracted by the game and your friend when he overheard the mention of his name when he walked by the door. He listened in from a different room and was both floored and over the moon about how you described him to your friends. He’ll never admit it but he cried hearing what you had to say about him.

“He’s just so… amazingly perfect? Like yeah I wanna beat his ass half the time but like in a romantic way? It’s weird I deadass hated this man a few months ago and now I get depressed if I don’t hear from him at least once a day. This man has me in a choke hold and it concerns me that I’m becoming more an more ok with it. Like brodie I am DOWN BAD for this man. He could literally try to seduce me in that dumb weenie costume he has and I’d still think he’s cute. It’s weird… I don’t ever think I’ve been into someone this much before, especially in such a short time. It’s scary, but in a good way I guess…”

Later that night he showed up in his weenie costume with a smirk as started flirting with you, giving you the corniest jokes he’s got. When you laugh and tell him to leave and take the costume off he raises an eyebrow and goes:

“Oh? Why should I? If I’m remembering correctly didn’t you say you’d still think I’m cute weenie suit or not? I thought you were down bad for me~ Don’t try and deny it angel, I’ve got it all recorded.”

To this day he thanks the universe that he thought to have his camera ready because the look on your face was priceless for him. He even keeps as his home screen (not lock screen he would never allow anyone else to see such a cute reaction) or sends it to you randomly whenever you think you have the upper hand in one of your banters. However he never sends the actual recording to you. Thats his and his alone to hear. Whenever he has to be away from your home for a long period of time or he wants your attention while your working he’ll listen to to remind himself that you love him just as much as he does and even if you’re both busy eventually Micah Time will come around and he’ll have you to himself. Can’t have Micah Time without his angel right?

#micah yujin fluff #micah yujin x reader #micah x reader #micah yujin #error143 #please play error143!#can we please make Micah Time a thing?

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jeweledflowers · 1 year

Note

Hello Rose-san!!! Today I'm here to request Who made me a princess with Dazai Osamu Reader! I just got this ideas when im watching meme about Dazai Osamu it's from channel Sakisayaka They made meme really good!!! You should watch it once ^^

hello, darling! how are you doing, how has your day been? sorry, it took me a while to complete this i decided to do this in headcanon format.

i'm on writer's block so like, sorry for the short and horrible hcs

nonnie, i assume you meant reader with the personality of Dazai? because that's what i did, and reader is gn. hope you like it, nonnie!

𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚. || 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐀 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬; 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌.

𝘐𝘫𝘦𝘬𝘪𝘦𝘭;

ijekiel.exe has stopped working

he's so concerned-

At first, he's a bit off put by the whole mafia thing,

like.

r u ok.

comes to the conclusion that ur rlly not.

he honestly feels bad for you, he knows you're lonely

and once he learns that you're searching for a reason to live??

he's dumbstruck. he's never really thought of it, you see. he's lived a busy, stressful yet fairly luxurious life, so he didn't really question things like these.

now he is having an existential crisis

starts giving you small things, like a book to read before bed, or a new set of clothes that you didn't really need, for the third time that week and it's only Tuesday

𝘑𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦;

she follows you around because of concern and sympathy

she's so sweet ily jennette

finds out about the mafia and is like::

'why would you kill people?'

so you don't really explain much but she finds out

she feels horrible! she can't imagine what you must've gone through. hugs and desserts galore

you sneak her out to town sometimes, much to her delight

well,,, meet your self-proclaimed best friend <33

𝘓𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯;

is immediately a bit on her guard

even more on her guard after finding out that you're a member of the mafia

but then she learns about your suicidal tendencies

ahaha... she doesn't leave you alone

goes full mom mode on you

lily's cookies 🛐🛐

treats you like you're 3 but she really doesn't mean to--it's unintentional

will stop spoiling you if you ask, but will be a bit hurt

𝘈𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘶𝘴;

'wtf is wrong with this kid'

is his first thought

As though he's one to talk

anyways. really casual around you. as though you're a street kid and not a member of the mafia.

but deep inside, he feels really... uncomfortable?

i mean...he doesn't get it. why would you want to die?

has stopped you multiple times from suicide attempts and will keep stopping you.

'you gotta live, kid.'

𝘍𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹;

'uh... child that's a knife.'

'I know.'

'You'll die.'

'I know.'

'Painfully die.'

'I don't care.'

how you two met, basically

sweating on the inside, how do u interact with a mentally ill mafia member

tries his best to make you take an interest in life

brings you along to tea parties with claude and athy (its vvvv awkward)

gives you a tour of the palace grounds

tries to convince claude to let u and athy be besties

small things, but he's trying

𝘗𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘦;

she is so weirded out

seriously, that hairstyle? that attitude? that no life personality?

oh honey no.

feels weird too. like, this kid (cause you're younger than her) wants to die. willingly die.

takes it like... you haven't died. why do you want to know what it feels like.

gives you the most expensive gifts. like, you need a separate room for those gifts. makes you eat with her even though all the meals are quite and deadass awkward cause both of you won't talk.

𝘋𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘢;

look, diana approaches life in a free spirited way. she lives everyday like she doesn't truly care.

which might be true

anyways, thats not the point.

when she meets you, she's like::::

'okay what the fu-'

(although i highly doubt that diana would swear)

she catches you trying to commit once, and then she's like, 'Please don't do that ever again'

and no one can refuse diana

𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘦;

oh.. you want to die? interesting. maybe he should indulge you.

'your majesty, no!' (felix)

aaanyways

he doesn't really care about you, he's just intrigued, after all, it's not everyday he comes across someone like this.

but as time goes on, he starts to see his younger self in you. and it unnerves him.

he thought he finally pushed away those memories, finally got away from his past

it kind of haunts him.

most of the time, he doesn't convey this directly to you, but if the massive pile of presents is any indication

𝘈𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘢;

..what-

she's trying to live

you're trying to die

swears that she won't let you die

and promises to give you reasons to live

athy 😭

#who made me a princess #wmmap #wmmap x reader #who made me a princess x reader

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cozycollectivee · 10 months

Text

warmth in winter

2BHANK FLUFF RAAAAAAGHHHHHH!!!

also my first fic :thumbs up: but not first time writing

maaaaybe ill put this on ao3 (its painfully obvious ive been on there..)

enjoy ur old guy cuddles u absolute nerd

It's a cold night.

Freezing.

It's gonna be like this for a couple months.

The mercenary shuddered in his small room. You could walk from one side to another in just 6 steps, which made just enough space for his bed, desk, and closet. Hank's room branched off their medics- Doc's room, to avoid problems once he woke up from being stitched back together.

Like violent outbreaks.

To keep the others safe.

But damn it's cold in here.

Hank's body doesn't make the heat it used to months ago, after repeatedly dying and being revived. His body got colder and colder every time he came back, but the warm weather made up for it- which made winter absolute hell ironically enough. His room didn't have a heater, and he didn't own one to plug into the wall, neither did anyone else. Since they have their lovely heat-generating bodies.

What time was it? The mercenary glanced at the clock across from his bed.

2:34 AM

These blankets weren't doing much to help him warm up. No matter how many layers of fabric he had to cover him, Hank would never be able to warm up.

…on his own, that is.

Hank's brows furrowed in deep thought. Would it be weird? They've only been together for what- two weeks? Relationships weren't his greatest subject, so he wasn't sure what to think. He let out a huff of annoyance, being confused felt horrible. He flicked the blankets off him, and made his way to the door.

He poked his head out, the soft red glow from his goggles slightly illuminating his face. Stepping out of his own, he scanned Doc's room, still unsure of what he was doing. The floor was cold under his paw pads, silently making his way to his partner's bed. Hank had no plan, no idea what he would do. Should he climb in bed with his medic? Should he wake him up first?

He studied Doc's face, he looked… peaceful. Unbothered. Soft. Warm. Hank's hand twitched, he felt a sudden need to have the smaller man in his arms, to hold his face, to be close to him. His heart stopped when the medic shifted in his sleep.

Is he waking up? Why is he waking up? Did I stare at him too hard? Arrghh-

"The hell are you doing?"

Hank blinked, looking back at his partner's- now awake- face. Oops.

Doc looked up at the shadow hovering over his bed, its bright red eyes gleaming at him.

Thats his boyfriend, staring at him in his sleep. Like the weirdo Hank is.

Just a month ago this would've made his fur stand on end and freak him out, but now all he wanted to do was go back to bed.

Hank started to panic, was Doc upset? Maybe he should just go back to his room, but that would be awkward… but not really? What part of him wasn't strange? It was pathetic really, a whole mercenary, unable to tell his lover he couldn't sleep because of the cold. Doc was looking at him like he was waiting for something? Oh, right… um.

"Im cold"

Stupid. Why did I say that. What is wrong with you.

"…You're cold?.."

He probably thinks im being weird, I should just go back-

"You can sleep with me if you want, it's okay"

Oh.

Doc gestured for Hank to climb in bed, gently pulling his hand. The medic smiled sleepily, making room as Hank settled down beside him. He wasn't kidding, Hank's skin was cold to the touch.

"Poor thing, why didnt you tell me?" His voice rough from waking up, Doc shifted to face his body towards his partner, who glared back at him.

"Are you making fun of me?"

"No, i'm not making fun of you," So defensive. Doc tried to stifle his giggles, burying his face into a pillow. He looked back up to Hank, putting a hand on his masked face. Cold, so cold.

"Were you too shy to ask?" The medic asked slyly, smiling even wider once Hank furrowed his brows again.

"No, I wasnt shy. I just… thought it would be weird."

Now Doc was raising his eyebrows, "you thought it would be weird to sleep with me, the guy who so happens to be your boyfriend." Hank blinked, and pushed his face into Doc's hand. Warmth.

"I dunno. Stop making me feel weird." Feeling sheepish, Hank's face heated a little. I guess it wouldn't have been that strange for me to ask to sleep with him. The taller man sighed, and pressed his body into Doc's. Warm, so damn warm.

"Yeah, this is what you've been missing out on." Doc rubbed his thumb over where Hank's cheek would be, he felt a little bad for him. Hank's room wasn't the warmest, but he didn't realize his body stopped warming up as much as it should. Should've invited him to sleep with me.

"Do you feel better?"

Hank nodded, wrapping an arm around Doc's back, pressing them so close together it felt like he'd never be cold again. He let the medic pull his mask down, the light touches of his fingers made Hank's heart flutter. Doc set a hand on his jaw, letting his heat seep into the cold metal, and pulled him closer for a kiss. The feeling of Doc's lips against his own made the warmth in Hank's chest grow, he pressed deeper, savoring the taste of his lover.

Once they pulled their faces away to breathe, Hank buried his face into Doc's neck, his fur soft against his scarred face.

"I love you."

Gentle hands stroked the back of Hanks neck, and wrapped around his back. "I love you too," replied Doc's voice. There was another sound, a trill. The medic was purring, low and a little rough, as if he hasn't done that in a long time. For once, Hank felt comfortable, warm, happy, and safe. He finally drifted off into a deep sleep, the best he's had in months.

#runs away giggling #2bhank #madcom #madness combat #hank j wimbleton #2bdamned #dxs!

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