#it's way past my bedtime but i refused to go to sleep before i got this done. harrumph. i needed the gay so badly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cameronspecial · 1 month

Note

I saw you were looking for some angst ideas lmao

So rafe and reader are together. Loves her more than life but his addiction gets in the way of that. One night they have a fuming argument and she doesn’t talk to him for a few days. He then makes a plan for them to talk about it somewhere private at nighttime, but when she shows up he’s not there. She waits for him for a while then she gets attacked by the rafes dealers because he owes them money and she was the next bet. Rafe finds her and he’s freaking out but she won’t let him near her and she blames him. You can choose how this ending goes or if you even want to write this but this has been on my mind

You Deserve Better

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Stabbing, Blood, and Death

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.1K

Masterlist

The centre of Rafe’s life wasn’t always the white powder that tumbled around the little Ziploc bag that lined his pockets. His centre is supposed to snort or wheeze a little whenever she laughs, refusing to use her inhaler because she doesn’t want to embarrass him. It will stay up past her bedtime because she is in a flow with her work. His sun crosses her eyeballs whenever he presses a kiss on her nose because she knows it would make him chuckle. Y/N Y/L/N used to be his rock and now, all because of an accident, she isn’t anymore. That is something not a lot of people know. They assume his addiction started because he was a bored rich kid who had the money to spare. However, in reality, it began with a torn ACL. One wrong shift of his leg and his football career was over. At first, the oxycodone was only to manage the pain from the ACL surgery. He had the hope that he could recover the way he needed to get back on the field, but then the news came that he wasn’t progressing the way his doctor wanted… That was when the problem started, suddenly the drug he was taking to help ease his physical pain became the one to take away his mental pain too. The pain of not being able to play football. The pain of missing out. The pain of not knowing where his life was going.

Don’t get him wrong, Y/N was by his side the whole time, except a person can’t be everything to someone else and he needed a therapist. He just wasn’t ready to admit that. It was only when he stopped being prescribed oxycodone that he turned to cocaine to fill the mental hole the prescription used to be for.

———

Rafe’s blown pupils are hidden by his eyelids as he lies back on the couch. Y/N is still out with her friends, so he isn’t sleeping. Not when she is not at home. The front door opening and closing makes him jerk forward. His eyelids are just a sliver because the light from the ceiling is too bright for him. Her footsteps approach the living room and the large sigh she lets out makes her arrival known. “You didn’t do the dishes,” she states, her hand resting on her jut-out hip. “And the hole in the hallway is still there.” Yesterday, Rafe, in a high state, accidentally made a hole in the wall when trying to put up a picture frame for her. He promised her before she left for work this morning that he would get what he needed to fix it this morning and in the afternoon, he would fix it. However, before he could get himself to the store, he saw a post from one of his old football teammates, who went pro and he spiralled.

He doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, yet it happens and this causes her to let out another huff. “I didn’t get a chance to go to the store,” he grumbles like he didn’t care. He really did though. He wanted to be able to do something that simple for the girl who meant everything to him, except his mind seemed to disagree with his heart. It is easier to pretend it doesn’t bother him. Her eyes narrow in on the residue of powder on their coffee table, “Let me guess, you got your nose caught up in some business. Rafe, you promised me you wouldn’t do that shit at home.” He can’t keep looking at the way tears start to appear because he knows how worried she gets when he does drugs, always scared he might overdose. He looks anywhere but at her. “Don’t get on my ass about this again Y/N. You don’t know what I am dealing with,” he argues.

“I don’t and that’s the problem. You need to talk to someone about how you are feeling because you are going to put yourself in an early grave if you keep doing what you are doing now.”

“Seriously, we are going to argue about this again because I didn’t do the dishes or fix a little hole in the wall.”

“No, we are going to argue about it because you aren’t the man I fell in love with anymore and I don’t think if I can do this anymore. I want to be by your side to help you get better but if you don’t want to, then I don’t know if I can be here forever.”

Her words hit his ears at the same intensity as they would if he were sitting next to an airplane engine. They had arguments about his sobriety so many times before, yet those fights always had the underlying understanding that she would be there to help him. She never once mentioned the possibility of her leaving him because she truly did want to help him find his sobriety. His mouth falls open to talk. No words come out. How can he possibly swear that he wants to get better when he isn’t at the self-realization point in his journey? She takes the silence as an admittance that getting clean isn’t on his mind. “I need some time apart. I’m going to sleep at Deliah’s place tonight,” she informs, turning to leave. He doesn’t stop her; he wants to give her the space she needs in hopes that she realizes she can hold on for a little bit longer. The only word he can respond with is “Okay”, right before she closes the door behind her.

———

She hasn’t answered any of his texts and calls. Her night of taking some space turned into a week and it is driving him crazy. Her non-existence return may have to do with his unwillingness to agree to go to a therapist. After the thousandth attempt at calling her, she finally answers the call. “Normally, when a person doesn’t pick up the call, it means they don’t want to talk to you.” He lets out an internal sigh, “I know, I just need to talk to you. Please, can we meet at our spot, Sunshine?” She could never resist the usage of his nickname for her. “Okay, meet me there in an hour,” she agrees. The call drops right after her response and he gives himself a small smile. Not only does he get to see her again, he gets to try to get her back.

———

By the time she realizes she is being followed, she is alone under the bleachers, where she and Rafe used to spend their time in high school. It was where they found themselves when they didn’t feel like going to class or they needed to get away from the chaos after his team won a game. It was the place she fell in love with him in because even before they were dating when they were just friends, it was their spot. She spins around at the sound of grass being pressed down by a set of feet, ready to scold him for being late. It isn’t Rafe as she expected; instead, an average-height man with a dangerous air that scares her. The gleam behind his eyes tells her the bald man is up to no good, which is confirmed when he pulls out the hunting knife from his hoodie pocket. She steps back in an attempt to get away from him, but her back hits against a metal beam. The man rushes toward her and presses the sharp edge against the soft skin of her neck. “Your boy owes me money and since he is taking too long to get it back to me, I thought I would hold onto something precious to him until I get what I want,” the man explains with a wicked grin. She refuses to show him fear and looks him dead in the eyes, “Rafe’s dealer is Barry so I have no idea what you are talking about.” “He stopped going to Barry because Barry started getting on his case about how much he is using,” the male growled, not enjoying the bite to her bark. She chuckles like a maniac, “When Rafe comes, he is going to beat your ass.” “Shut up, Bitch.” Angered by his words, her knees find their target between his legs.

He lets out a howl and doubles over in pain. She uses this as her opportunity to attempt an escape, trying to run past him. Unfortunately, he reaches out to stop her and this results in the blade driving into her abdomen. A gasp passes her lips, causing the dealer to look in her direction. “Shit.” His eyes bloom open and immediately begins to pull it out. “No. Don’t pu-,” she warns, except it is too late. The weapon is already out and he is running toward the exit. She hunches forward and stumbles back against the beam, pressing her hand to her stomach to keep from bleeding out, feeling as though she has been punched. Calling 911 seems to be the logical answer; however, when she goes for her phone, she finds it broken on the floor. She thinks about going to her car and is stopped by the feeling of even more blood gushing out of the wound as she tries to push off the beam. It doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would.

“Sunshine,” rings through her ears. Her dizziness makes it difficult to focus on the speaker, yet she knows who it is based on the nickname. She slides down the beam because her legs lose all their strength. Rafe rushes to her side and kneels beside her. “Shit, Sunshine. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to call the police. They are going to fix everything,” his voice breaks as his hand joins hers to stop the flow of his blood. She can hear him relaying the information to the dispatcher, but her body is telling her something Rafe isn’t going to be ready to hear. He places his phone on the floor so both of his hands can press on her abdomen. “They’re coming, Sunshine, just hold on. I promise. I’ll be here the whole time.” Her handshakes as she raises to his cheek, staining it with her blood. Her tears water at the edge of her bottom eyelid, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.” His head shakes vigorously. “Don’t say tha-.” She cuts him off, “Can you please just listen to me?” He nods to let her continue. “It was your dealer. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. Just to make sure he gets arrested. But I need you to know that you are more than just your addiction and football. I know you don’t think so, but you are and if you just realize that, then you will see the man that I fell in love with.” “I don’t deserve that though. Look at all the shit I put you through. You deserve more than a druggie as a boyfriend,” he cries, holding her hand against his skin.

She smiles up at him, “You deserve more too. You deserve to be truly happy. You deserve to try to find a new purpose in life. I want that for you.” “How can I find all of that if you are gone?” he questions. Her breathing begins to become laboured, “You’ll find yourself and once you grieve, you’ll find someone who can help heal your broken heart. That’s how.”

“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Please, don’t go. Will you please stay if I promise to get sober?”

“I will be with you every step of the way.”

The words tear his heart in two. He knows what it means. She truly doesn’t think she is coming out of this alive. “I want you to see me get better though. Please. Just hang on a little longer.” His tears cloud his vision. When he doesn’t hear a response, he wipes his eyes to get a closer look at her. The world goes dark at the sight of her glassy eyes only reflecting back his face with no recognition or life behind them. The rise and fall of her chest have stopped. The universe decides to answer his calls for help at a cruel moment as he hears the siren finally approach. There is no use in their hurry if the person who needs saving is the one to do it because Rafe isn’t going to let her last words die with her. He is going to get better, not only for her but for him too. He deserves more than a life of chasing his pain away with drugs and he is determined to achieve that.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe cameron outer banks #outerbanks #obx #obx fic #obx fanfic #obx imagine

321 notes · View notes

johnwickb1tsch · 2 months

Text

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 21 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You toss and turn, of course, utterly unable to sleep.

Your body does not get the memo that it’s a bad idea to fuck a man like John Wick, who is a killer who is holding you prisoner, and refuses to simmer down. You are uncomfortably swollen between your legs, your pussy aching with frustration, and in the wee hours of the morning you are certain you are about to lose your goddamn fucking mind.

How is he really going to fucking know?

This is the stupid little thought that plays through your tired brain as you writhe beneath the covers, running hands up over your torso, pretending they are his.

Imagining his touch tweaking the sensitive tips of your nipples, his fingers buried inside you, seeking that sensitive place that drives you wild.

Yours are too soft, too small, not long enough or thick enough by half.

You try to trick yourself that it’s his unrelenting touch circling your clit, furious in his claiming of your pleasure as his own…

It’s not enough by half, and the release that washes over you is a paltry consolation at best, a weak pleasure that you know is a sad facsimile of the real thing. Still, you can’t stop yourself from sighing his name, and how has he mind-fucked you so royally in such a short amount of time?

It pisses you off, and in a last act of defiance for the night you flip off the camera high in the corner.

He’s probably not watching anyway. He’s probably asleep, snug in his bed with Dog, the bastard.

Feeling sad and not really sated at all, you curl into a ball and try to finally get some rest. It’s lonely in this big bed all by yourself, and by the time sleep finally claims you your pillow is damp with tears.

-When finally you wake in the morning, you are cold. The covers are down around your waist, and your shoulders ache, your arms at an odd angle out in front of you.

You never sleep like this.

There’s something on your wrists.

You open your eyes, blinking away the blur of sleep. Your vision focuses on something red.

A very neat line of shibari style knots encircles your wrists and half your forearms. They would have been beautiful, in a different setting. Like, not on your body, without your consent.

They’re not so tight to cut off your circulation, but they’re not exactly comfortable either. You strain against the silk rope, and find you can’t budge them.

You are so fucked.

“I warned you.”

John is sitting in the chair in the corner, watching you. He’s wearing all black again, a button down and slacks this time. Looking his best for you, or does he have somewhere to be? It’s not something you would have paid attention to before, but this morning, you can’t help but fixate on the fact that he’s wearing a leather belt.

Because you’re an idiot, you snipe anyway, “Wow, looks like someone earned his merit badge in macramé.”

He just smirks at you, the beautiful bastard.

“I’ve got more than a badge, honey.”

“Very funny. Untie me.”

“You’ll have to earn it, bad girl.”

Your heart skitters around in your chest as you wonder what that means.

He goes on, “Did you really think I wouldn’t see you last night?”

“Guess I assumed you’d be sleeping. It was way past your bedtime.”

He scoffs at the old man dig, leaning forward on his knees, fixing you with that hawkish gaze. “I found out I only sleep well with you in my arms, darling. Wouldn’t that have been nice last night?”

Yes, it would have. However, you just frown at him.

“So, was it worth it?” he pushes.

You sigh, half tempted to tell him how utterly unsatisfying your little session of self-indulgence had been. Rather than answer him, you look at the knots again. They really are beautiful. It makes you think of the book binding shop you’d visited in Florence, and the complicated stitches and knots they used to affix the signatures of pages together.

This man likes binding all kinds of things, it seems.

“Are you hungry?”

Only then do you notice that he has a plate of breakfast foods on the little table beside him. Eggs, toast, and bacon. A little plastic cup that might be water or juice. Your tummy answers with a rumble. Dog did eat your dinner last night, and John never offered you a replacement sandwich. At the time you’d been too worked up about…everything, to care.

“Maybe.”

He huffs a little laugh at you. “Come here.” He pats his knee, and you realize he wants you to sit on his lap—so he can feed you. A little growl in the back of your throat escapes you, and it only makes his smirk widen.

“God, you’re adorable when you’re angry.”

“I’m not hungry,” you grouse.

You are starving, and you both know it.

“Come. Here.”

There’s that chilling tone of voice again. It does not fail to fill your veins with ice, your heart skipping a beat before skittering irregularly in your chest. You’ve come to understand that it means playtime is over.

You are so fucked.

It is awkward, getting out of the bed with your wrists tied like this. You almost fall on your face, your foot getting tangled in the sheet. From John’s forbidding expression, you don’t think he would have caught you from hitting the floor this time.

You are still only dressed in the thin nightie, and the air is cold on your skin. Your nipples tighten, forming sharp peaks beneath the fabric, the silk lending agonizing friction that makes you want to press your thighs to relieve some of the sudden ache between them.

Last night so did not help you with this problem, and John’s eyes fixating on them does not help either, and you wonder if you’ll be in trouble when you stain his neat looking pants leg with your slick after sitting on him.

“Come here,” he says again, his tone much gentler this time.

Defeated, you shuffle forward, letting him guide you to perch on his knee with a hand on your hip. You barely manage to suppress a shudder as possessively his hand slides just under your skirt, resting on the warm pillow of your thigh. His long fingers are so close to your center, but he makes no move, letting you stew in it.

Bastard.

Only then do you turn to look at him, finding his gaze fixed on your face. “Good morning.”

When you say nothing in return he lifts one eyebrow, and you swear, this man will be the death of you out of frustration alone.

“Good morning,” you finally return, hating the meek timbre of your tone.

“Do you like scrambled eggs?” You nod, and he scoops up a forkful. You notice the fork is plastic, and you wonder if its for your safety, or for his.

He’s clearly never seen Hot Tub Time Machine.

“I would have taken you to breakfast in Venice, but someone had to run away.”

“Well, someone was an insufferable prig the night before,” you return primly, wondering what punishment this will earn you, unable to stop yourself from saying it anyway. He actually smirks at this, though his grip tightens a bit in warning on your thigh. Not enough to hurt, but oh.

You are definitely leaving a wet spot on his trousers, and you hate yourself a little more for it.

You finish your breakfast bite by bite like the good girl you’re apparently not. It was good, if not the weirdest seating arrangement you’ve ever endured. You tremble inside, as you wonder what he has in mind for you next, now that your energy is up and you are trussed like a holiday goose for his pleasure.

You couldn’t be more surprised, than when he deposits you on the bed, kisses your cheek, and bids you, “Have a nice day, sweetie.”

“Wait!” you exclaim, whirling as he is already halfway to the door, swinging his suit jacket about his broad shoulders. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

You hate it, that hearing this fills you with panic. “Are you coming back?”

“Do you want me to come back?” There is a dangerous glitter in those dark eyes, and you know that is a question loaded with fourteen in the clip and one in the chamber.

You decide on, “I want you to untie me.” Holding up your wrists as exhibit A.

He shrugs a little, and you know that was not the answer he wanted. “Maybe later.” Then he sweeps out of the room, leaving you staring dumbfounded at the door where he’d just been. The man is like a fucking ghost.

“Bastard!”

You hope he hears you, but you suspect the epithet falls on deaf ears.

-Your first order of business, of course, is trying to undo these beautiful fucking knots. Unfortunately for you, they are tight, and secure, and John was smart enough to make the finishing hitch with the end tails on the opposite side of your wrist where you cannot easily reach them with your teeth.

Sonofabitch.

If he’d left you Dog for company you could have enlisted the pooch’s formidable chompers, perhaps, but no dice on that one.

Fine.

You sit under the covers for a while, because you’re cold. You try to read, but it is infuriatingly difficult to turn the pages of a book and read comfortably with your hands like this.

You are certain lunch time comes and goes, without a peep out of John.

Did he actually leave you?

You hate it, how the thought makes a trill of panic vibrate in your chest.

Fine. It’s fucking fine.

He thinks he can break you with alone time? You? You are the Queen of Introversion. You can go for days without human interaction, happily, so long as you have a sketchbook or a book. Bring it on, Mr. Wick.

He left you the water cup with the straw, and boy is that an adventure to refill in the bathroom when you’re thirsty.

Going pee without making a mess is no small feat either.

You pace the room, just to get some exercise. You look out the window, watching the birds in the trees.

You laugh to yourself, banging your head against the bulletproof glass. How funny, that you’d once fancied yourself Jane Eyre, when it turned out you were destined to be Mad Bertha locked up in the attic by Rochester all along.

You hate to admit it, but by the time the sun is starting to set behind the trees you are going stir crazy with wondering where the fuck he is.

It’s definitely not because you miss him.

It’s just…these fucking ropes, of course. It’s not those burning dark eyes, or those large sure hands, or that sturdy long body he likes to press to yours. It’s not that the silence of the room feels empty without his deep voice, even if he’s using it to taunt you.

It is late by the time you hear the locks on the door whir, and you have been sitting in your nest in bed feeling listless and way too sorry for yourself. You are half out of your mind with boredom, and your shoulders and elbows ache at the joints from the restraints at your wrist. You try not to show it, but you are ready to climb up the fucking walls.

Like he might have some inkling of this, John pays you a knowing smile, assuming his seat with the confidence of a king in his throne room. He snaps and pats his thigh, no words this time, expecting you to obey.

Someday, you are going to make him pay for this.

But now…there’s nothing for it but to play his twisted game.

He’s prepared some kind of stir-fry tonight, with vegetables, beef, and rice. You are starving by now, and it smells heavenly.

Again, the food is good, simple but filling. He feeds you forkful by forkful with a careful tenderness that could make you weep. Your time with John is like a game of Russian Roulette. Spin the wheel, which John shall you receive this minute?

It’s easy to hate Mean John. Insufferable Ass Hat John, could drive you to murder. But Sweet John? You would do anything, for Sweet John, and you’re afraid he knows it too.

It’s only been a day, really. Is that right? A day? And already, you feel yourself slipping into the mould he’s fashioned for you.

Perhaps in a knee-jerk attempt to counter this, you ask, “Did you used to play this game with Helen?”

He freezes with the fork halfway to your lips, his hand underneath your skirt with his dead wife’s name in your mouth.

You meant to throw him off, but as far as you can tell, all it earns you is a scoff. “No.”

“Why not?”

He actually seems to consider your question, toying with the food again, re-loading the fork with a different bite. “I was never afraid she would leave me. Funny, how that worked out.”

You feel like he’s handed you an important piece of information. Emboldened by his quietness, you dare push, “And…what do you think she’d think, about what you’re doing to me now?”

“I’d say she lost her vote, when she left me.” The indifference is gone; this is delivered with a stinging bitterness, and you realize he blames her for leaving him. There’s a clue in this too, and you feel like the solution to all this is an illusive thing hovering just barely out of your grasp. If you can find just the right words, push just the right buttons…maybe you can bring him back to sanity?

“She never would have left you on purpose, John. She got sick. You’ve got to forgive her.”

And accept you can’t control everyone around you. Then preferably, untie me! motherfucker.

The only indication he gives that you’ve upset him is the tightening of his fingers digging into your thigh. You’re going to have bruises, but if he’s actually processing what you’re saying, it’s a price you’ll gladly pay.

He just continues to push the medley of food around on the plate, shaking his head in silence. Disappointed in his nonreaction to your question, you sullenly accept the next bite.

Three seconds later, your mouth is on fire.

You squeal with panic, leaning for the plate to spit it out. But John’s big hand clamps over your mouth, a hard glint in his eyes, and you know you’re going to have to swallow it. It takes three tries, but you manage, tears streaming from the corner of your eyes.

You can do moderately spicy food, but that was just fucking diabolical.

“What the fuck?” you hiss between coughs.

“I knew you’d have something smart to say tonight.”

You try to reach for the water cup with its stupid little straw and your stupidly bound-together hands, but John sets it out of reach. “Oh my god, please?”

He speaks calmly, as though the lining of your mouth is not being eaten away like you took a bite of rice laced with battery acid. “You keep speaking about Helen like you knew her. I suggest you cut it out. Unless you would like all your meals seasoned like this.”

You blow a long breath of air over your tongue. It only sort of helps.

Mother. Fucker.

You glare daggers, but for now, you’re wise enough (broken enough?) to keep your epithets to yourself.

He sits back in the chair to regard you, tossing the fork into what’s left on the plate. You’re still hungry, but you’ll be damned if you eat anymore from that dish. You flinch as he reaches for you, though he is not cruel as he grips your hair at the base of your head. Just…exacting, and he guides you to perch on the edge of the chair between his legs, your bare ass fitted against his crotch.

It feels good as he starts to braid your hair, a jarring contrast to the pain still simmering in your mouth. You whimper a little, despite yourself, arching into him behind you. You didn’t even mean to, really, but it wins you a low groan that fills you with forbidden warmth.

This is so fucked.

Nothing you’ve experienced in your life has prepared you for handling this.

When he finishes he wraps the new handle of your plaited hair in his fist, pulling you back against his chest. He is warm, and solid, and you fail royally as you try not to enjoy this contact. It’s ridiculous, but all you really want is for him to hold you.

He speaks against the shell of your ear, his other hand lightly encircling your throat. “I’ll never let you leave me.”

Your heart drums frantically in your chest; he means business. You can just tell, there is an unyielding hardness in his tone that somehow wasn’t quite there before. You thought you could reason with this man, but maybe you were wrong, or maybe you only succeeded in pushing his sanity the other way, further into the red.

Maybe there’s nothing left to reason with, and that is the thing that finally, truly scares you.

“Maybe you need something else to fill up that sassy mouth.”

With his improvised handle he guides you down to sit between his splayed legs. Your eyes are drawn to the newly erected tent in his pants, that formidable bulge that should be the stuff of your nightmares, but still inspires a maddening longing inside you.

Why do you have to feel so empty, when he’s near?

Frustrated by the unfairness of it all, you glare daggers up at him. You know what he’s angling to extort out of you, of course. It makes you sad, but not for the reason he might have expected. It makes you sad, because you would have rubbed your knees raw sucking him off, if he’d just asked you nicely.

“Thanks, but I’m full.”

He snorts at that. “Yeah? Someone doesn’t want her hands untied that badly.”

Now, that is something you want, and maybe you’re willing to play with that on the table. You’ve never thought of yourself as someone who is easily led, but he is good at manipulating you. It makes you wonder if any of it was ever real, or if this is just a game he’s been playing with you from day one.

The thought makes you sigh, and you rest your cheek on his lean thigh, closing your eyes.

He looks down at you like you’re a puzzle he’s not quite sure how to solve.

Welcome to the club, Mr. Wick.

“Were you planning this all along?” you ask. “When you were so sweet to me? Am I that fucking stupid that I didn’t see this coming?” Obviously, from the clothes in the closet, he’d hoped you’d come stay with him at some point, but all the rest? It feels spontaneous, like the way something hard can suddenly crack with too much pressure. But then again, maybe just because it took you by such fucking surprise.

He strokes your hair, and that gentle touch just makes it worse somehow. You feel the sting of tears in the corners of your eyes, because that gentleness is all you wanted from him. The ironic part is that he wouldn’t have had to do any of this shit, just to keep you.

You do not love easily, but once you do…it is a total, and all-consuming thing.

“I don’t know,” he answers begrudgingly. “I just…couldn’t let you leave me.”

You think about how he’d been an orphan. He’d lost his parents. He’d lost his wife. He’d lost his dog. He’d gone on a rampage and slaughtered an entire Russian Bratva…for the loss of a dog.

In perspective you guess he’d actually behaved rather tamely, at the threat of losing you. This man does nothing by halves, and the only thing John Wick fears, it seems, is losing those he loves.

Is that what he’d meant, when he said his love was a curse?

It doesn’t excuse it, but there is a key somewhere in that, you reason. A key to freedom, or the gates of Hell, you’re not really sure.

You do your best to blink away your tears. Maybe it’s stupid, because you’re not half as tough as he is, but you don’t really want him to see you cry.

He lets you sit like that for as long as you want, stroking your hair. It’s almost sweet, and it gives you time to collect yourself.

Someday, he’s going to figure out it’s best not to give you a chance to plot your next move. It occurs to you that maybe you have one last card to play.

You sit up slowly on your knees between his legs, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze weighing upon your skin. You reach for his belt, brushing his erection through his pants, his manhood twitching in anticipation. For just a second, he allows himself to close his eyes.

Maybe you have power too. You just have to figure out how to use it here, and maybe not lose you mind over how thick and wonderful he just felt beneath your hand. That unhelpful pulsing between your legs casts its vote. You try to unobtrusively squeeze your thighs for some relief, but you fear this man sees everything.

Good for you, that your voice sounds almost steady. “I have to say, you’re a brave man, Mr. Wick.”

It is not easy to work the buckle of his belt with your hands bound like this, but somehow you manage, even pulling it from its loops. You fight the urge to throw the damn thing across the room, but settle for resting it at his feet.

“How do you figure?”

“Well...” You flip open the top button of his pants, your fingers shaking slightly. “If we are engaging in that time-honored exchange of a favor for a blowjob... and you just essentially carpet bombed my mouth with napalm...wow, you do like to live dangerously.”

He sits still as a statue for a good few moments, weighing what you’re telling him, gauging if the capsaicin would transfer through your saliva to what is arguably the most sensitive area of his body. You’re 98 percent certain they would, and a part of you hopes he’ll opt to try it even after you warn him.

It would make for a neat little slice of revenge.

But then, what you really want is out of these ropes, and you hope your honesty will win you some points with him.

In the end he catches your hands, as you are awkwardly trying to work his zipper.

“Maybe we'll skip that for now.”

“You sure? Where’s your sense of adventure?”

He narrows his eyes down at you, and you wonder if you’re inventing it, or is there a glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes?

“In my other pants.”

In the end he pulls you back up into his lap with a grumble.

You suspect you’ve only delayed the inevitable, but you feel some satisfaction for your little coup.

“I’ll be back,” he tells you, (threatens you?), depositing you on the bed, gathering the dishes and sweeping out of the room. You have a feeling this interaction was not half as satisfying as he’d hoped it would be.

Well, good.

Bastard.

-When he returns, he brings you a cup of milk. Though most of the pain from the chilis has already subsided by now, you accept it for the calorie count if anything.

“Are you alright?” he asks with a hand on your cheek, looking you over appraisingly.

Thinking this might be your best moment, you lift your bound hands with a pitiful pout, blinking your eyelashes innocently.

“Will you untie me now?” you ask in your sweetest tone, words loaded with contrition.

“You think you’ve earned it?” he asks, and you sense this is a perilous path you’re approaching.

“I’ve been good.”

“Hmm.”

“Come on. I mouthed off. You punished me. You had your fun. And rather than give in to my initial vindictive impulses, I saved you from a very uncomfortable evening. It’s the least you can do.”

He actually chuckles at this, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He seems softened by your bright little tirade, but then this man’s mood can change on a dime.

“And, it’s starting to hurt,” you add.

It’s not a lie, and it seems that is the thing that makes him pause.

“You don’t like my knot work?”

Your heart lodges in your throat, and you know you must proceed with caution, or you’ll be wearing this shit for a week at least.

“Your knots are very fine, Mr. Wick.”

Your captor practically purrs at hearing that, a low rumbling sound from deep in his chest, his hand burying in your hair. It sends a tingling thrill all across your scalp.

You’ve come to reluctantly love his fixation with grabbing your mane.

You really are losing your mind.

“I’ll make you a deal, kitten.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll untie you…if you will take a bath with me.” His tone is the low rumble of a jungle cat, and your heart leaps into your throat. You knew this was coming, eventually. Maybe you just didn’t expect it tonight.

Looking back, you’re not sure why.

“NowI get to see you?”

You are still puzzling over the way he’d outright prevented you from undressing him, in Venice. It was almost like he’d been afraid, and you don’t understand at all. He’s fucking gorgeous, and you’re pretty sure he knows it. So…why?

“I told you, you weren’t ready then.”

You suspect the real answer is that he wasn’t ready, but for once, you don’t contradict him.

He runs a finger down the line of his neat knots that are starting to bite into your flesh. It’s starting to affect the feeling in your fingers, and you know that can’t be good.

“So? What do you say?”

You crane your neck to look up at him, drinking in the lines of his handsome face, his straight nose and proud lips, and the delicately drawn sweep of his eyes. Even with the shadow of a black eye, courtesy of you, he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. You shouldn’t want him, after everything he’s done to you. You shouldn’t, but you feel yourself inevitably drawn to him, like the moon pulls the tide.

You feel like you’re signing a piece of your soul away to the devil on the dotted line, when at last you nod.

He puts a hand to his ear with a smirk. “What was that?”

Your groan comes out like a growl.

“You have a deal, Mr. Wick, sir.”

His low rumble of approval gives you chills, and when he turns your face up to kiss you sweetly you utterly melt beneath his hands, jarred by the contrast from earlier, but not questioning it. You bask in the press of his soft lips, greedy for his tenderness, hoping stupidly that this is the way things will be from now on. Then you yelp with surprise as suddenly he scoops you up with his hands on your thighs, carrying you into the bathroom.

#please enjoy this absolute chonk of a chapter #you guys have earned it!#i loooove you!!!!#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick fic #keanu reeves x reader #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick x you #yandere john wick #yandere

185 notes · View notes

mooodyblue · 1 year

Text

when you love someone | late 60s!elvis x gn!reader

summary: you had a hard week and all elvis wants to do is make you feel better

wc: 1.7k

warnings: depression, mentions of anxiety, set after filming live a little love a little, gender neutral reader, written with my love and tears

note: 2 fics in one week ?? that's so crazy. i wrote this to comfort myself so i hope it's comforting to some of y'all too. somewhat inspired by this song. send in requests yall!! as always, may contain inaccuracies and mistakes. enjoy.

masterlist | send a request or say hi :)

you and elvis had been dating for a couple years now, meeting him on the set of one of his movies as an assistant. it was going well and you were happy to be able to travel with elvis whenever he was off filming. until word got out about your relationship and the colonel forbid you from stepping foot on set during this recent movie. not only would you be unable to see elvis for a long period of time, but you'd just lost your job as well. times like these made you grateful to have elvis around since he had offered to help you with rent until he could move you into graceland.

however, being home all alone was taking a toll on you. elvis was to return soon and you were a mess. you hadn't called him nor returned any of his phone calls in a week, dishes were piling up, and god knows when you last showered. you didn't even know what day it was. you'd been glued to your couch for the past week, refusing to get up for anything. elvis was probably worried about you but whatever. he's better off without you anyway, right?

you were on your fourth nap of the day, falling asleep to the sound of a random show on tv and drowning out the sounds of the telephone in the distance every hour or so. you didn't even realize elvis had shown up to your house.

he was grateful you had given him an extra key before he left since you didn't bother going to the door. the sight broke his heart. he first noticed the pile of mail he accidentally stepped on when he first walked in, picking it all up and bringing it to the living room where he saw you asleep peacefully, dirty dishes spread around the coffee table. it wasn't any better when he stepped foot in the kitchen, looking at a sink full of various pots and pans coated with dinner that must have been made three or four days ago. it was no wonder you hadn't returned his calls. he was worried sick about you. even being in your house, he was still worried, unsure of how you'd react to him being at your house when you woke up.

any other man would grab their things and leave, completely ignoring the state of a house this messy. but elvis wasn't any other man, he was your boyfriend and he adored you. it upset him terribly knowing you must of been feeling bad recently for your house, which was once kept so pristine, to end up in such a mess. the fact you'd have to clean this all up one day must have been adding on to your stress as well and he wasn't going to have that. time to get to work.

starting with the living room, he quietly began bringing dishes to the kitchen, washing, drying them and setting them back where they belong. he didn't forget the pots and pans either, scrubbing away for what felt like ages and laying them out to dry. he swept and wiped down the counters for you as well along with discarding any empty food packages you'd thrown around and hadn't bothered to pick up. you were still sound asleep by the time he finished cleaning the kitchen and living room so he went ahead and did your laundry too, not forgetting to fold and put away your clothes in the way you liked them organized.

he hated waking you up for anything, but it was getting late and he knew you'd regret napping like this so close to your usual bedtime. he kneeled down to the couch, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. "hon?" he said, shaking you softly from your sleep.

you opened your eyes to a concerned elvis, looking at you with sad, tired eyes. you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, your brain finally registering that your boyfriend was in your own home after being away for a month. "elvis?"

he flashed a smile at you. "hi baby, what's goin' on?"

you sat up slowly, patting down your unbrushed bed hair. you looked around, noticing the lack of dishes and the new cleanliness of your home. "what-elvis. please tell me you-"

"don't worry about it, it's the least i can do." he sat on the edge, leaning in to give you a much-needed kiss until you backed away from him, covering yourself. "don't. you shouldn't see me like this. i thought i had another week."

he frowned. "oh baby, you're still beautiful." he kissed you anyway, placing a hand on the side of your cheek. "i came home early cause you wouldn't answer my calls, i was worried sick, darlin'"

you turned away from him, avoiding eye contact, embarrassed. here he was, the most handsome man to ever exist on this earth was in front of you while you sat there with your unbrushed hair and clothes from a week ago. "i'm sorry."

he turned your face back towards him. "none of that, no apologizin'" he stood up and held out his hand. "lets go run you a bath, sound good?"

you took his hand as he took you to the bathroom, passing the kitchen and finding yourself feeling guilty for letting elvis do all of this for you, especially for letting him see you like this. he drew you a warm bath, helping you undress and helping you in as he sat on the edge of the tub, washing away a weeks worth of dirt from your hair and body. he was gentle with you. massaging your scalp with your favorite strawberry shampoo and rinsing it out carefully. you noticed the bathroom was cleaned too. there was that feeling of guilt again. you couldn't even look elvis in the eye, not even while he was humming one of the songs he used in a recent film as he conditioned your hair.

"which one was that?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"what? the conditioner? it's the strawberry one, did i use-"

you rolled your eyes playfully. "no, the song."

his lips perked up, chuckling softly. "i didn't even realize i was hummin'" he shook his head, moving onto rinsing your hair out again. "almost in love."

"excited to hear it." you murmured, running your hands through the soapy bath water.

"you'll like it." he reached for the towel behind him, drying your hair thoroughly. "at least i hope you do." he joked.

your face scrunched up as he went a little too rough drying your hair, mumbling a quiet 'sorry'. "why wouldn't i? i love everything you release."

he unplugged the drain and helped you out of the tub, handing you a towel for you to dry the rest of your body off as he fetched you some clean clothes. "is that right? don't lie now."

you dried yourself off, "yeah elvis, i hate everything you release." you said sarcastically as you put on your clothes. you tried to ignore how he also did your laundry for you, shaking off the guilt.

"there we go, that's what i like to hear." he joked. he picked up your brush and placed both hands on your face, giving you a quick kiss. "you're awful." you said. he grinned at you, tapping your nose with his finger. "aren't i just the worst?" he took your hand again, pulling you to your bedroom. he sat you on the edge of the bed as he got behind you, brushing away gently. you took a quick glance in the small mirror sitting on your dresser and watched as he brushed your hair. your eyes welled up with tears. you felt so undeserving of elvis and his kindness. the guilt was starting to eat away at you. there weren't enough words to describe how much you loved elvis and how well he treated you.

it wasn't long until elvis noticed your tears, setting the brush aside and turning you towards him. "oh no, baby. c'mere." he pulled you in a tight embrace, letting you cry into his shoulder as you held him tightly. "let it all out, i got you."

"i'm so sorry, you shouldn't have done any of this for me. i don't know what got into me, it's just been so hard." you said in between sobs. your anxiety finally caught up to you. losing your job and fearing you'd lose elvis too, you didn't know what you would do without him.

elvis rubbed your back up and down, letting you vent and cry. "i know hon, i know." he whispered. "'m here now. i'll take care of you." he had his own insecurities, often worrying about what fans think of his movies. how he was unhappy with how a lot of them turned out and how badly he wanted to move on from them. it was something he often spoke to you about. you were the one who made him not give up on his career, you gave him that boost he always needed. it was always you, now it was his turn for a change.

you apologized over and over again for making him take care of you. the tears just wouldn't stop. he released you from his embrace to crawl up to the headboard, you following shortly after. he pulled you in his lap as you rested your head on his chest, sniffling softly. "don't want to ever hear you apologize. none of this is your fault, you got that? i just wish you knew how much you mean to me." he said, running his fingers through your damp hair. "love you so much, little one. so damn much. wish i could take those nasty little thoughts from your head and deal with 'em myself."

"you don't wanna know what my thoughts are like, elvis. i wouldn't wish it on anyone." you mumbled.

he sighed. "i'm sorry you have to go through that, baby. you don't deserve that. at least i can make 'em go away for awhile." he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close.

"thank you for everything, really. i love you."

"love you too, little one. always will." he replied softly, going back to humming the same song from earlier as he rocked the two of you gently from side to side, leaving you in your own little world for a little while.

#my mental has been very very bad but i am so grateful i have elvis he does truly make me feel better lol #elvis x reader #elvis #elvis presley

172 notes · View notes

varian-polis · 1 year

Text

Stargazing (Bowuigi)

Based on the notes I’m getting on my one post I assume y’all are okay with the Bowuigi posting, and if not then block the tag bestie

Also on AO3!

It was late at night, and Luigi was woken up by repeated prodding at his arm. He tried to ignore it at first, hoping whichever hyperactive kid up way past their bedtime would give up and go bother their dad. However, the prodding turned to light shoving, to the point where Luigi worried he would be rolled off of the bed. That definitely wasn’t a kid.

“Alright, alright, I’m awake,” he groaned, and his excited fiancé stopped rolling him around like a piece of dough. “What is it?” He asked, trying to hide his annoyance.

“I wanna show you something,” Bowser exclaims, sparkles in his eyes.

Usually when someone woke him up this late, Luigi would simply refuse to get up unless it was an emergency. But looking into his fiancé’s wide, starstruck eyes, he found he didn’t have the heart to say no this time.

“Alright,” he sighed, smiling. “What do you want to show me?”

“Close your eyes,” Bowser requested, and Luigi obliged. The Koopa took his hand and started leading him through the castle, making sure not to walk too fast so the smaller, sleepy man could keep up.

Soon, his excitement got the best of him. “Permission to lift?” he asked, waiting for his approval.

“Sure,” Luigi yawned. It would be ideal for him, actually; he felt like his legs could only move at a snail’s pace. Bowser lifted him into his arms and they continued, much quicker this time. Luigi often didn’t like admitting it, but he liked it when his fiancé carried him like this; curled up in his arms, pressed against his warm and firm chest… It made him feel safe. And more than that, it made him feel wanted. He felt like he was about to fall sleep again in his surprisingly comfortable embrace.

Eventually, Bowser stopped. “I’m puttin’ ya down now, darlin’,” he informed Luigi. The man yawned as he nodded, and he gently lowered him back onto the ground. Luigi could feel cold air on his skin, and he shivered. The Koopa rubbed his back sympathetically.

“Alright, you can open your eyes now,” Bowser stated, and Luigi gingerly did so.

He was greeted by the most beautiful night sky he had ever seen. The stars scattered across the sky like drips of paint on a canvas, and the red sky oddly seemed even prettier than the dark indigo he was used to. What’s more, the stars shined brighter than he had ever seen in the Mushroom Kingdom; the Koopa Kingdom’s citizens rarely kept their lights on after midnight, which meant there wasn’t any competition for the lights of the night sky.

Bowser watched his fiancé with a soft smile on his face. He’d been planning this for a while; he had heard from Mario and Peach that Luigi loved stars, so he’d been wanting to show Luigi what the Koopa Kingdom’s night sky was like ever since. And he got the reaction he was hoping for: Luigi’s eyes were as full of stars as the sky, his mouth open slightly as he took in the sight.

“I take it ya like it?” he broke the silence.

“I- It’s incredible,” his fiancé responded. “It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Heh. I’ve seen prettier,” Bowser replied.

“What could possibly be more beautiful than this?” Luigi scoffed.

“You,” the Koopa answered, pecking Luigi on the head.

“I- Uh, um, I-” the man tried to come up with a comeback, but failed miserably; the combination of how tired he was, the cold, his surprise and how flustered he was combined to make it incredibly difficult to think of a response.

Bowser chuckled. “You make it too easy, y’know?”

“Sh-shut up,” Luigi flushed. “Not my fault you caught me off guard.”

His fiancé smiled. “Ready to head back inside?”

“Yeah, we probably should, before one of the kids comes looking for us and we’re missing,” he replied.

“Alright, let’s go,” Bowser grinned. “Permission to lift?”

“Permission granted,” Luigi smiled. The Koopa lifted him into his arms once again, and took him back to their bedroom.

By the time he reached their room, the smaller man had already conked out once again, quietly snoring into his chest. He smiled lovingly at him, and kissed him on the forehead before lowering him into bed.

“Love ya, darling,” Bowser whispered.

“Love you too…” Luigi slurred in his sleep, causing his fiancé’s smile to widen.

“See ya in the morning,” he mumbled, turning off the bedside lamp for the night.

#super mario #bowser #luigi #bowuigi #polis writes fanfic #fanfic

142 notes · View notes

i-love-an-alcoholic · 7 months

Text

Why I consider myself recovered

I don't have cravings.

I'm not 100 % straight-edge. A couple of days ago I ordered a beer while waiting for food and couldn't finish it. It just didn't taste good enough to justify drinking, and it certainly didn't hit any spots. I simply did not feel the urge to drink more, which is something I've really struggled with in the past. Whenever S drinks I have no need to drink with him.

I do sometimes think about drugs and have had dreams about using. When I wake up I may feel a little disturbed, but I ground myself by thinking about my current life and how much happier I am now compared to those days. I have too many things I don't want to lose.

I dislike that feeling.

I used to be one of those people who refuse to do anything sober. In retrospect I ruined a lot of things by that. Nowadays I feel like I can enjoy my nature walks, events, and even grocery shopping to the fullest only when I'm sober. Being on something would, in a way, take something from the experience instead of enhancing or adding to it. I also dislike the lowered inhibitions and lost control, anything that makes me go "Why did I do that…" the next morning (there's a brilliant word for this in my native language but I haven't found an english equivalent). Edit: it's moral hangover.

Even though this sounds dumb, I must say I get high on life itself.

I tolerate boredom.

Being even slightly bored used to be my biggest trigger. When I was detoxing I had an almost unsatiable need to be busy, be it cleaning playing games, drawing or whatever I could think of. I couldn't just sit still even for a little while. If I did, all my bad thoughts took over. At the time I had a phone app that reminded me to do things such as "eat lunch", "take a walk", or "take your meds and go to sleep". Sticking to a routine became my survival strategy until I was well enough to give myself breaks.

I got over this by actively learning to be still. I began by having a cup of tea before bedtime every night. Drinking tea gave me a quiet moment while also giving me grounding points so my thoughts wouldn't take off. I also took a little walk around the neighborhood every night, always the same route. I guess it was some form of mindfulness, and it worked.

Now I'm in a place where I allow myself to be bored sometimes, watch mindless TV, scroll my phone and so forth. The bad thoughts are still a bit of a problem though, but I'm getting better at controlling them. Boredom is fine.

There is more to say about this topic, but these were the main things that came to mind when writing. I know the old saying "Once an addict, always an addict" and while I think there is a certain truth to it, I firmly believe full recovery is possible. This is why I say I'm recovered instead of recovering. Ask box is also open, even though my audience is not that big. Feel free to use it.

#i love an alcoholic #recovery #recovered addict #addiction recovery #healing

7 notes · View notes

onceuponaroast · 2 years

Text

Things that probably should have made me (and the people around me) suspect that I'm autistic a lot sooner, a non exhaustive list:

1. Adults used to have to translate things I said a lot. I don't mean language-wise, but I used to say things that seemed fine to me but made someone upset. Then an adult would have to step in and clarify, "actually I think she meant (ex)". This even happened somewhat recently when I was at work in 2019. A manager informed a few of us that one of us could go home early and I said "dibs cuz I've been here the longest" what I Meant was I'd been there since 8 and they got there at 10, but someone got upset because she'd been working there a few months longer than I had. The manager (bless her heart) stepped in to clarify

2. One of my moms favorite stories to tell is about my childhood shutdowns. When I was really little (think toddler) sometimes I'd get overwhelmed by noise or visual stimuli or socializing- so I'd completely shut down. I'd cover my ears and eyes, and cower behind the nearest piece of furniture. My mom likes to share this as a cute quirky thing I did.... why no one tried to help I don't know

3. Repeating phrases I heard without knowing what they meant. This is my sister's favorite story. We took a family trip to a petsmart or something during a time when Chinchillas were my special interest. I wasnt allowed to have one, and so when walking past the chinchilla enclosure I saw an ad of some kid holding a chinchilla and felt jealous. So I, at the ripe old age of 6, said "Lucky Bastard" loud enough for other customers to hear. Apparently my dad was Pissed, but neither of my parents could really get mad at me because it was sorta their fault for watching The Big Bang Theory in front of me

4. Refusing to leave my stroller. Honestly if I could still be in a stroller, I would. Not even in a dont-want-to-walk way, but because it's the perfect way to observe the world without having to interact with it. It made noises quieter, shielded me from sunlight, and no one tried to talk to me when I was in it. If I got overwhelmed I could pull the top down and take a nap. A complete win.

5. Getting mad when people were wrong. This sounds rude- and I guess it may have been- but let me explain. One year at summer camp we played some ice breaker game and went around in a circle to say if you were an introvert, extrovert, or somewhere in between. I got So Excited to share a new word I learned, Ambivert! Which means between introvert and extrovert. I was so excited I shared this at the beginning of the circle. Except, people got really annoyed and started pointedly saying "I'm an introverted extrovert" and kinda laughing at me. I got really unreasonably angry, but kept that to myself

6. Speaking of summer camp: daily meltdowns. In my first few years I would get extremely overwhelmed during summer camp. There's no alone time! It's always loud and hot and the food is gross. Similar to my shutdowns when I was really little, around bedtime each night I'd get so overwhelmed I'd go off by myself and just cry for a bit. Eventually some counselor found me and dragged my off to the office to call my parents.

7. Probably the most obvious: being a picky eater. This is self explanatory. My mom tried to give me cheerios exactly once as an infant and I immediately spit it out and threw a tantrum. I haven't touched cherrios or any other cereal since.

8. The safety plush. Teddy is a teddy bear gifted to me by my grandma when I was born. He'll be turning 22 this year and I still sleep with him every night. I think I was probably 10 before I could go a night without him and not have a meltdown. I loved him so much his body started disintegrating and my parents had to try and find a new one. At first I hated the idea of replacing him but my grandma made up some bs about stuffing blood transfusions and that helped and now we have 3 iterations of Teddy.

9. Sensory issues. I took FOREVER to potty train, simply because I could not stand the sound of the toilet flush. It was loud and terrified me. I also hated grass and jumping in fall leaf piles. I would cry when they put me in clothes of a Certain Texture. My mom likes to share the story of my first birthday party where the tradition is to put a birthday cake in front of the baby and let them absolutely destroy it. I wouldn't touch the thing. Frosting is sticky!

10. Last but not least, special interests. Basically from the time I could talk I had a new interest every year that I'd be completely obsessed with. Starting with The Doodlebops, Bob the Builder, and The Wiggles. Then Cinderella, Scooby Doo, and Chinchillas. Once I reached Elementary school and had access to the Library it was OVER. I checked out like 50+ books on the different species of cats within like a two month period

This is not everything! But Autism is not just "rude and doesn't make eye contact"

#autism #actually autistic #late diagnosed autistic #autism pride #and #as always #fuck autism speaks #also id wake people up by literally peeling their eyelids open #and id get so confused why they'd be mad about it #like you're awake??? mission accomplished?#its simple its efficient its effective #fi talks

11 notes · View notes

tryingthoughts · 1 year

Text

I remember when I was a child I had convinced myself that I was a "good" sleeper, and had no problems with sleep.

I convinced myself of that in two ways; by doing a one-time attempt at meditsting that happened to be succeasful. the other way was by repeating prayer-like affirmations about what the next 9 hours would look like: "there will be no accidents, no nightmares, no sickness, no fires, no family deaths, the parents will be ok through the night, the doggo will be a-ok, the siblings will be safe at college and in the next room over, you will wake up at 6 feeling well rested and ready for the school day." that was around the time I started saying "I love you" to my parents before bed because I wanted them to know I loved them in case anything happened. there was a period of time when I'd try praying to deities - I grew up Roman Catholic and my sister said she felt calm after praying to God so I tried it. I prayed to some Greek Gods too for a while because i enjoyed reading about them. mostly the prayers were just spoken journals, I'd tell them about my day, about what was happening tomorrow and all that. and ask that no bad things would happen.

eventually I decided praying/affirmations were exhausting (but not in a sleep inducing way, funnily enough) because I'd have to think about all the things that could possibly go wrong in the course of the next 9 hours and ask that they wouldn't happen. that would take time and send me on thought trains of how to word my prayers in a way that encompasses any and all bad thing that could occur. avoiding any loopholes the gods could manipulate. still, I never thought of myself as a bad sleeper.

apparently i used to sleep walk and sleep talk when I was younger. not frequently, but enough that my mom got a baby gate for the top of the stairs, hoping I wouldn't be able to open it and walk down the stairs, unlock the door, and out into the street. but my siblings and I had experience sneaking around past bedtime because we wanted companionship or snacks but didn't want to be yelled at. so we learned to climb over the gate/banister to get down the stairs. one night I climbed over the gate sleep walking.

in high-school and late middle school my go to answer for "how are you" from my mom, or anyone really, was "tired". and my mother took that as only being attributable to a physical ailment. so she took me to my doctor, he tested my blood and turns out I have hypothyroidism (under active thyroid), which can cause fatigue. my mom also has this, but refuses to take her prescribed medicine (we are prescribed the same drug). that's another story though. the medicine hasn't made me feel less fatigued, in fact, I notice no change in the way I feel since taking it. I have no doubt it contributes to the regular functioning of my body and is not unhelpful, but I reckon I am tired for a different reason:

mental health

I now think I sleep poorly. I stay asleep for the most part, but getting to sleep is a trial. I think a lot and have difficulty not doing so. I used to never want to sleep because I felt restless and wanted to go to school. I then came to the state of "never wanting to wake up from sleep, but once awake, never wanting to sleep". and then I arrived at where I am now: "never wanting to be awake". I listen to ASMR to try and drown out my thoughts and feel comfort enough to sleep. I got some melatonin that I haven't taken in six months or so because I am nervous about missing phone calls or not being able to wake up in emergency situations.

this is the most exhaustive composition about my reflection on sleep that I have the energy for at the moment. it's longer than I thought it would be for this medium. I guess I have thought about sleep more than I realized.

#mental health #sleep #family stress #i think i was a nervous child #im pretty nervous now #i had a nice nap this morning that was good #naps are nice

0 notes

husbandohunter · 3 years

Text

A Small Predicament [Baby Genshin x Reader]

Characters: Scaramouche, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli, Albedo

Synopsis: Cursed for a week, the boys either have to live with it or find a cure as soon as possible. You on the otherhand hoped otherwise.

(A/n): It only takes ONE glance for me to start having ideas. It was twelve in the morning yall, enjoy~

Oh here's part 2

--------

Scaramouche

• "Oh you shrank? I couldn't tell-"

• Threatens that he will murder you to pieces and burn your remains but his voice was so squeaky and high pitched (voice crack) that you couldn't help but burst into a tearful laughter.

• Its payback time Bully him, take his hat and hover it above his head. Truthfully, without his hat Scaramouche looks like a little schoolboy. Overall less intimidating.

• Tries glaring. Cute. He's really bratty as a kid, sitting on a high chair (which you had to help him get on) and demanding his servants to do his bidding. In reality, his personality never changed. You realized that even as a grown up he still acts like this (bratty kid in a grown man body).

• The curse made his week a living hell. Signora had the audacity to pull his ear when he misbehaves. Childe constantly messes with his hair while giving head pats and the WORST of all, pinching his cheeks. Scaramouche never wanted to commit arson so bad in his life.

• Eventually finds a cure so he doesn't have to deal with it anymore and orders everyone to never speak of it again. Though, he's plotting how he'll get revenge on everyone who made fun of him using the very same curse (You better run).

~~x~~

Diluc

• "Oh…Oh my! Diluc you're just so cute!"

• Diluc grimaces as you glomp him in this state. How can you help it? With his head so small it makes his hair all the more fluffier! His coat no longer fits him to the point the sleeves had made past his fingertips. He tried wielding his claymore again, only to lose balance and fall flat onto his bum

• (insert kid voice "Retribution!") Did I mention the babyface?

• Diluc tries to act as if everything was normal, acting like the Darknight hero and Mondstadt's Tycoon but fun-sized. He couldn't. There was no way people would take him seriously in business meetings. Same with fighting abyss mages, his smaller form was too much of a disadvantage. Thus you ended up doing most of his paperwork.

• One time you caught him sitting on the floor couldn't reach his office desk while reading away the various books for a cure. It was three in the morning. You told him it was way past his bedtime and he argues saying when did he ever have a curfew schedule. In the end you managed to convince him and he begrudgingly obliges.

• The type to NOT ask for help even when it's obvious that he really needs it. Before he was the one who helped you reach things from the top shelves, oh how the tables have turned. He avoids Kaeya like a plague unless he was in it for another round of funny remarks. When he wanted to go out and get some fresh air, you insisted on accompanying him. Worst mistake in his life. A travelling merchant bumps into you and commented that you had a very cute son. Diluc was mortified.

• The day ended up with him sulking in his room. Although it was tempting, you resisted from cooing over his adorable form after days of treating him like a child. It wasn't because you were teasing him, Diluc just works so hard that you wanted to spoil him a bit. At least he could still play a game of chess with you.

• When things went back to normal, Diluc ensures that you will NOT see him as your son.

~~x~~

Kaeya

• "Well look who it is, my little Prince Kaeya~"

• Tries really hard not be bothered by it at all. Kaeya still maintains his suave facade, throwing in a couple of flirting lines here and there (and forcing his voice to go a few octaves too low in which puberty has yet to occur HA). Though no matter what approach, he couldn't ignore the sparkling mischievious glint in your eye. You were obviously not taking him seriously.

• Things couldn't get any worse. He lost his masculine physique and boob window, he wasn't able to go to certain places without supervision. But the worst thing of all was that he was underaged. Kaeya hated the fact he couldn't drink anymore, he even insisted you to sneak him a few bottles (which you refused) and had to settle with plain beverages such as fruit juice (what an insult). He was never really grounded since his childhood days but he certainly felt like he was grounded now.

• Kaeya still kisses you on the lips whether you like it or not. If you ask him to sit on your lap, he will find a way to turn the position into his favour such as resting his face between your breasts. You're not gonna treat him like a kid, nuh-uh, he actively avoids it.

• Since his personality still remains, Kaeya is a naughty child. He will use his innocent appearance to sway people (even you) to get what he wants. That was how he was able to take a sip of the wine he stole somewhere (he wouldn't tell you). Diluc scolded him heavily and threatened to ban him from drinking from his Tavern for a week (they ended up arguing, Kaeya being the passive aggressive little shit he is).

• He was extremely relieved to return back to his normal form again. He has so much to catch up (specifically his bedtime activities with you *wink wonk*)

~~x~~

Child(e)

• "Hmmm to be honest, this actually suits you very much."

• Unlike the other boys, Childe was completely okay with it. Turns out that YOU were the one who was not going to be okay. If you thought taking care of Teucer was energy-draining then expect Childe to take that tenfold and beyond.

• You've officially became his full-time babysitter who is in desperate need of a raise (and rest). You can't take your eyes off of him and archons forbid that he will ever meet Klee. One point he'll be running ahead by your side and the next you'll find him getting himself in a 1vs7 situation with some shady looking treasure hoarders. Childe genuinely thinks he could take them on but the curse downgraded his abilities. You carried him and barely made out of it alive. (This made you ponder whether the best solution would be to strap him against a chair for the time being…)

• Childe being a child will eat all the candies and ice cream he pleases. You wonder if the curse also turned him a few years back or was it that he acts like this simply because he wanted to (it was the latter). He loves being spoiled, spoiled by you! Childe demands your full attention, spoon-feeding his meals, back rubs and head pats. Yep, he's definitely doing this on purpose.

• Did he just call you 'mommy'? (Childe has mommy kink confirmed). He has so much energy that it was exhausting, you literally had to drag him away from what ever he was doing in order to get him to bed. "No Childe, your sleeping time is 9p.m stop whining." He bargained that he'll sleep if you sleep beside him (you didn't get any sleep. You knew what he was planning. In the end, you tried to make sure he didn't sneak out behind your back.)

• Finally you were able to get out of that hell-hole. Childe promised to make it up to you, you deserve it after all~

~~x~~

Small (aka Xiao)

• "Did you know in the Liyuean language, Xiao translates to small?" You didn't say that out loud. Not when he's this angry (this angy)

• He just stands there, crossing his arms and grumbling. You were hesitant to touch him in case he might hiss at you. Xiao has always been short, maybe an inch taller than you, but seeing him like this made you think 'my almighty yaksha can't be this cute♡'

• He gets mad when you no longer call his name for help. How could you? He's just so precious~ Xiao makes it clear that no matter what form he takes, it doesn't make him weak ("Adepti and you mortals are nothing alike." Or so he says but you could tell he wasn't running as fast as he used to because…small legs). You may not comment on it aloud but he can tell just by the look on your face and it irritates him.

• Also the type to not ask for help but worse. Xiao is an agressive little kid, he seems as if he'll be willing to bite someone's finger off if they try to pet him (He gives strong cat vibes, so thats understandable). His spear was too big for him to wield so he often has to put it away or else he might knock someone over with it. Xiao hates being short so you'll be hearing him complain alot.

• Since he was an adepti, he didn't need to sleep however, the curse must have brought down his power by a significant amount to the point you DID catch him napping. You almost swooned out loud just by taking a glance upon his face. For once he didn't wear his signature grumpy look. Xiao appears like a normal child, one full of innocence. His snoring was soft and breathly but that just meant he was deep asleep. (You wished to take a picture).

• Of course, everything had to come to an end (much to your disappointment), he still complains about the incident to this day.

~~x~~

Zhongli

• How is it possible for a baby to still look so handsome? (Must be his godly abilities)

• Zhongli is unfazed by this 'curse' since his past lives have already taken many forms. Though for some reason whenever he walks down the streets of Liyue, young girls, mothers, ladies all come him was and start complimenting him and gushing over him (he was suffocating). They'd squeeze him tight or squish his cheeks, it only takes once glance before the little girls start blushing and hiding behind their moms.

• Needless to say, despite what form he is in, Zhongli is still able to get free stuff. He got some free candies and some free kites to play with. You had to help him carry his items. Zhongli ends up tripping too much because his tailcoat reached his feet (he decided to just take it off. You had to hold that too). Seems like he can have anyone do things for him in the end HA.

• He still got that drippy voice and you're just like ???? "What on Teyvat Zhongli, you're a kid." This is why you can't see him as one, its nearly impossible.

• Actively avoids Hu Tao and Childe. Once Hu Tao caught sight of him and chased him for hours, he couldn't stay in one spot knowing that she might just pop out of no where. Childe still spoils him, however Zhongli feels irritated by the fact the only things Childe buys him toys (its different when other people do it.)

• Everytime you guys go back strolling through Liyue, you had to hold his hand in case more women come swarming hin again. You swear that at this rate he might get kidnapped because hes just such a beautiful baby.

• Zhongli learned an important lesson after his curse was lifted: no matter how many years he lives throughout never take a form of a child.

~~x~~

Albedo

• You find him buried beneath a pile of books and had to dig him out before he suffocates.

• Albedo has the cutest eyes, they're big and round full of curiosity and they sparkle too (he has the prettiest eyes out of everyone tbh). He is the only person who is fascinated by this outcome and immediately goes in the wild to test out his new physique.

• He was always curious why Klee T-poses when she runs so he decided to try it out himself. She was thrilled to find out that she now has a little brother to play with. In the end, Albedo indulges in the games she always wanted to play but couldn't because he was too old: princess dress up tea parties.

• You felt many things when you saw Albedo wearing a frilly gown and a plastic tiara tucked on his head. Deep down you knew regardless of what gender Albedo was still pretty. Klee even had the guts to redo his hair and hardly anyone was able to recognize it was him at all. He has pigtails, PIGTAILS! You made sure to burn that image into the very depths of your mind forever.

• The only advantage was the he was ablw to fit through small spaces, other than that, being small was way too inconvenient. He knocked down a few of his potion bottles which damaged the floor (thankfully not him) because they were lethal (he wonders how Klee was able to not injure herself when using bombs). You carried him and lifted him to alot of places such as trudging through the snow because Albedo would surely fall on his face due to his small form.

• Enough was enough, he only lasted a day with this and decided to just make a potion and put an end to the curse once and for all.

#genshin impact #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #albedo x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact headcanons #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #Kaeya #kaeya alberich #tartagalia x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #nya writes #scaramouche x reader

7K notes · View notes

h0tchner · 3 years

Text

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

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

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds fandom #my fics #rb!!!!!! ily!!!!!!!!!#ivyheliotrope #abby!#aaron hotch

713 notes · View notes

kyotarou · 3 years

Text

after fights

characters: dabi, hawks, katsuki bakugou

plot: the aftermath of fights with their s/o

warnings: angst, swearing, degradation

a/n: i understand dabi/hawks/bakugou are some people’s comfort characters so here’s a gentle reminder that this is a work of fiction!! this was an idea i had in my head that i wanted to share and it helps me work with diff genres of writing, but again it is FICTIONAL! love you all, and take care <3

p.s.: i was listening to the slowed down version of sweater weather while writing bakugou’s and it got me a lil emotional HAHA it really did hurt

Dabi

His persona is already cold

During fights he’ll say something super harsh in the most deadpan voice

He’ll walk out once you start crying cause he has no time to deal with babies

He’s still a villain after all

But he doesn’t actually leave; he stands outside your door listening to your sobs

He waits until you go to bed to come back inside

Doesn’t matter if it takes hours, if it’s raining or snowing, he’ll be outside until it’s quiet inside

When he comes back, you’re curled up on the bed shivering, pillow stained with tears

Dabi sits beside you and gently strokes your cheek, hoping you’ll feel his presence even in your sleep

He won’t say it, but he does love you, and he’ll cremate anyone who even thinks about taking you from him

Hawks

Fights rarely happen, but when they do, his words sting

He makes comments about your relationship in a sarcastic tone or with a bitter laugh

It makes your heart ache and mind numb with rage

He’ll notice the tears pooling in your eyes and try to comfort you, but you scream at him to leave

Keigo doesn’t want to make the situation worse, so he will

You immediately regret your words, but he’s already gone

He flies around the city to blow off steam, so you leave your window wide open in the hopes that he’ll see and come back

It’s dangerous this late at night, but it’s what you always do during his breaks from hero work to let him know he’s welcome inside

Hours pass and no sign of him

Around midnight, Keigo flies past your place and sees the window open and you on the couch, still awake

Immediately swoops down with worry

“Baby bird, what are you doing? Someone could’ve broken in, and it’s cold, you’re gonna get sick.”

“I was waiting for you, Kei.”

Keigo stands in front of you before sinking to his knees and squeezes you tight, wings covering your shivering body as tears stream down his face

“I love you baby bird. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

Refuses to let you go for the rest of the night

Bakugou

“Idiot” and “dumbass” are his terms of endearment

But you know when he’s using them lovingly from the way he acts

When he spits out something along the lines of, “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that? You don’t know shit.” there’s no trace of love

Being with Bakugou made you grow thick skin, but when your favorite nicknames turn into words of hatred, it brings a certain level of pain and insecurity that’s hard to soothe

Bakugou doesn’t walk away from a fight and neither do you

The tension still lingers even after you’ve stopped yelling

It’s like being in a room with a stranger

You eat dinner as usual but refuse to make eye contact or talk

When bedtime rolls around, you sleep with your backs facing each other and a significant gap separating the two of you

Neither of you can sleep, anyway

Bakugou stares at the wall and realizes he could never live with this much pain, and neither can you

He bites his lip to hold back the sob rising in his throat, but it’s no use

“Baby…” he chokes out. “I can’t do this. I love you.”

Bakugou rolls over and holds you against his chest as his cries and whimpers break the thick silence

“I’m sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

6K notes · View notes

roscgcld · 3 years

Text

HEADCANON + VARIOUS || daydreaming!reader turning into a toddler

request: Okay you know the turn into toddler on but with bimbo reader, she'd be so cute ❤️❤️as a toddler and they have an excuse to use the leash because children are fast

note: this was originally going to be an ask, but then I decided to write headcanons for our daydreaming!reader - so this was born lmaoooo. i hope you enjoy cx you can find all the original prompts for this under the hashtag daydreaming!reader on my profile!

also - yuta is going to be in this because let’s be honest - stressed yuta is lowkey really cute lol

pronouns: she/her

daydreaming!reader masterlist

let me say this - when she was first turned into a child, it was absolute chaos

the worse part was it happened mid battle - one moment she was charging to the curse with her katana in hand, next thing the rest of them knew she had shrunk and she was freefalling from the jump she launched herself into

yuji, who was the closest to her, widen his eyes before he ran towards his senior and caught her before she landed on the ground, holding her against his chest as he stares down at the girl with wide eyes; who blinked up at him as well

“Y-Y/N-senpai?” yuji mutters in shock as he stares down at the young girl in his arms, who just smiles back before she reaches up to cup her tiny hands on his sweaty cheeks.

“doggy.”

after the curse was exorcise, the rest of the first years gathered around yuji, since they were supposed to accompany their senior out to exorcise a curse in a nearby hospital

how are they going to go back to school carrying a child with them?

they did - and the first person they ran into was gojo, who waited by the door to greet his students; only to freeze when he saw the child staring back at him in yuji’s arms

“wait a minute,” gojo mutters as he pulls his blindfold down as he narrowed his sapphire eyes at the young girl, who just blinks and smiles up at him in delight. “holy shit - it really is her.”

the first stop they visited was ieiri, who held the giggling child in her arms after running a few tests. “it’s not permanent - it’s a cursed technique. I can’t reverse it since it’s not an actual wound, so the best remedy is waiting.” she stated as she bounced the young girl in her arms, who was busy playing with her hair in her tiny hands. “my guess is that it’ll last no more than 24 hours.”

24 hours wouldn’t be that hard, right? i mean, they already take care of her on the daily - what’s another 24 hours?

well - the fact that she runs on pure energy. fushiguro looked down as he pulled out a tissue from the packet he was holding in his hands for one second, and when he looked up again, she was missing

it took the three first years and their tall teacher a solid 10 minutes before they found her

she was curled up in inumaki’s arms, the cursed speech user just cuddling her without a care in the world while maki looked mortified that her already handful classmate was now a child

and she hates children with a burning passion

after getting the brief rundown by their teacher, they just watch how the little girl, who was now set down on her feet, ran about their legs as she giggles to herself; as if she was trying to traverse an endless maze. “what an idiot.”

the next person who saw her was yuta, who returned from a meeting with the higher ups

he had entered the campus, just in time to see gojo running past with a child on his shoulders, giggling to her heart’s content

that sight alone was confusing to yuta, but when gojo noticed him and came over with a grin, yuta got a good look at the child resting on his tall teacher’s shoulders

and then almost past out from the shock of seeing his fellow classmate blinking down at him, her small hands gripping onto gojo’s hair as she smiles down at him

after a cup of tea and a lengthy explanation, yuta watches the young girl play with the strap of his weapon’s bag that resting on the ground, making a noise

“at least now we have a reason to use the child leash.”

“..now that you’ve mention it - we should break it out.” maki stated simply before she got up and left, leaving yuta to explain to the confused group of people how him and maki had purchased a children’s leash to use on her whenever they go out to tokyo so they never loose her

they never really had a chance to use it; but since she is the way she is now, it was probably the better option then running around chasing her

so now there was maki, with one end of the leash wrapped around her hand whilst the other was wrapped around the young girl’s wrist as she ran about

feeding her was an absolute pain - it took a solid 30 minutes to get her eat half of the food since she kept getting side tracked and forget to chew her food. so it just sat in her cheeks as she played with yuta’s fingers or tried to catch a flying beetle

poor maki got the scare of her life when the little girl gifted her a squirming beetle that refused to crawl off her uniform; her grossed out expression evident as she flicked it off with her fingers

nobara and yuji were laughing their asses off as gojo recorded the entire incident. inumaki was biting his fist as he shook with laughter while yuta grinned and told the confused girl how she shouldn’t be picking up bugs at random unless she ‘wants them to give you an owie’

for once they had a relatively normal day - cloud watching, flower picking, feeding the koi fish in the pond on the school grounds, playing tag in the huge field. she forced everything to do the more mundane somewhat normal things as well, forcing everyone to take a well deserved break

by the time the evening arrived, many of the students and gojo were laying on the grassy field of the school compound, watching how the sky slowly started to bleed with different shades of reds and oranges as the sun started to set

“is it bad that i enjoyed this day?” fushiguro muttered as he closes his eyes, one arm covering his eyes whilst the other was petting his Devine dog that he had summoned to track the little girl down earlier

she had escaped to go and pick flowers in the wooded area, almost giving everyone a heart attack when they couldn’t find her.

“nah, it was nice.” maki said with a tired hum as she watches the clouds, her head laid against panda’s side whilst yuta laid on the ground beside her, watching the clouds with a content sigh. “who knew it took a brat to make us relax.”

said brat was fast asleep in nobara’s side, who cuddled the sleeping girl close. “well, whatever the reason may be - i enjoyed it a lot, and it will be fun to look back on in the future.”

somehow they managed to clean her from all the sweat and dirt before tucking her back in her room, and somehow had to read a few bedtime stories after she whines and refuses to go to bed until she was read to

by the time the others went to bed, they were pretty much dead to the world - having the best night’s sleep after having been worked to the bone by one child

when the next morning arrived, and maki saw a sleepy Y/N walking about tiredly as she tried to fill her bottle of water from the water fountain, she just sighs in relief

to the point where she goes over and hugs the sleepy girl, who just yawned and hugged her back with one arm while the other filled her bottle of water

“good morning to you too, maki.”

when she saw all the videos and pictures of what happened yesterday, she just smiles over at the tired students, clapping her hands softly in delight

“at least you guys had fun, no?”

her simple answer had everyone pausing as they shared a look with one another before they all just agreed, since yesterday was definitely fun

maybe having her as a child wasn’t that bad after all

2K notes · View notes

ilici · 3 years

Text

bfb.

Summary: You grew up with Dream and Drista your whole life, but as you got older you soon realized your feelings towards Dream. (You are 19 in this and the reader is female for the plot)

MINORS DNI

Warnings: oral fixation, dumbification, choking

Word Count: 2234

Sighing, Y/N looked at Drista then towards her tv, “Hey Drista?” Y/N asked, gaining Drista’s attention.”Yeah Y/N?” She asked, looking over at her best friend, “Does it bother you that your best friend is like 6 years older than you?” They asked, and Drista frowned once she heard the words. “No I like it a lot, I grew up with you and saw you as an older sister to me. You are always there for me, and you can even pick me up early from school so that’s a bonus.” Drista laughed as the last part left her mouth, which caused Y/N to softly punch her arm. “Can I ask you something and you not laugh at me?” Y/N asked, and Drista made a noise, shifting around so that they could face one another.

Y/N took in a deep breath, and looked at the younger girl, “I've known you and Dream all my life, but around the age of 17 I started to realize my feelings for Dream were a bit different.” She explained, stumbling over her words a bit scared of how Drista would react. “I know, I can tell by the way you look at him.” Drista explained, which made Y/N relax a bit, “Is it that obvious?” She asked worriedly, and Drista shrugged, “Maybe to me, but boys tend to be oblivious.” Once the words left her mouth, Drista gasped, “This is like that episode of Victorious!” She said excitedly, and Y/N furrowed her eyebrows throwing her a confused look. “You know the song BFB?”

Y/N slowly nodded her head, and Drista groaned, “You’re about as dumb as a pig.” She complained, “BFB means best friends brother.” She said, making exaggerated hand movements. “Oh yeah.” Y/N laughed, and softly pushed Drista, “I swear you are a nerd.” She said, causing the younger to giggle. Shaking her head, she got up, “You have school tomorrow, so you need to sleep. It’s two hours past your bedtime. Your mom would kill me for letting you stay awake this late.” Y/N said, and Drista pouted, “Fine.” She said giving up, “I’m going to go take a shower, and I’ll be back. I will try not to wake you if you are asleep by the time I get back.”

Nodding her head, Drista switched the movie over to Princess and the Frog, turning her lamp off on her bedside table. Y/N walked over and grabbed a pair of clothes from her closet as she practically lived there. Walking out, she mumbled a ‘goodnight’ to Drista as she turned around she slowly made her way to the bathroom. Putting her clothes in the bathroom, she walked downstairs into the kitchen to get a glass of water. “Thirsty?” A voice spoke up making Y/N yelp and jump. “Holy shit Dream. You scared me you dick head.” She mumbled shoving him, as he was leaning against the counter. “Why were you even standing in the dark you weirdo.” Y/N said, getting a glass cup, getting some water.

Dream watched her movements, and he shrugged to himself, “I have this kitchen memorized like the back of my hand. There’s no need to turn on the light.” He explained, and Y/N was now facing the sink, finishing up her glass of water. “I suppose that’s true.” She said nodding her head, pouring the rest of the remaining water out and put the glass in the sink. As she was about to turn around, she felt his body against her backside. Gulping she kept her eyes glued to the window where she could somewhat see their reflection. “Don’t you want somebody to love?” He whispered, moving Y/N hair over her shoulder as he wrapped his fingers around her throat.

Freezing, Y/N felt herself melt at the gesture, her eyes locked with Dream’s reflection on the window, the only light source being the light above the sink. “What makes you think that?” She asked, trying to keep her voice at a confident tone. Dream chuckled, leaving one hand around her throat, while his free hand reached up grabbing a handful of her hair pulling it back roughly so her head was leaning back. Wincing slightly, she bit her bottom lip not allowing herself to make a sound. “So you’re telling me..” He whispered, leaning down so his lips were right next to her ear.

“You don't want me to just fuck you senseless right here, right now?” He asked, and Y/N felt her entire face flush. “What are you saying right now?” She asked embarrassed, and Dream chuckled darkly, tightening his grip around her neck before he let go, and released the grip on her hair. “You’ll see with time princess.” He whispered ghosting his lips over her exposed neck, which caused a shiver to go down her spine. She finally let a whimper escape, “Dream..” She whispered and turned around to see he had left already. Soon it hit her like a brick, she blushed madly and her heart raced.

“What the fuck just happened..” She mumbled, steadying herself on the counter. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she moved her hand up to touch her neck, where his hand once was. Groaning, she shook her head, “Fuck you for messing with me.” She said, frustrated by confusion and touch deprivation. Walking up and into the bathroom, she started the shower and slowly stripped of her clothes. Getting inside the shower, her body relaxed as the heat consumed her. Letting out a content sigh, her eyes shot open when she heard someone enter the bathroom.

“Dri?” She asked, not daring to look out in case she would lock eyes with the green eyed boy she once saw in the kitchen. “Yeah?” The voice of Drista spoke up, letting out a sigh of relief she relaxed instantly, “What are you doing?” She asked and Drista cleared her throat, “I overheard Dream talking to who I assume was George and Sapnap. But he said that you and him had an interaction in the kitchen.” Drista said, and Y/N instantly tensed up at the reasoning. “What did you hear?” She asked, and Drista shrugged even though Y/N could not see her, “Something about you and him bumping into one another.” She said, and Y/N was thankful Dream didn’t go into detail with his friends.

“Well I am going to bed now.” Drista said, walking out, “Oh hey Dream.” Y/N heard as the door was being shut, Y/N couldn’t help but feel on edge. Her body was craving for Dream to touch her like that again, but she refused to believe it. Hearing the bathroom door open again, this time the culprit tried to make it as quiet as possible. “Having a nice shower princess?” His voice ricocheted off the walls of the shower, and into her ears. Shivering even though her body was under scalding hot water, she looked over his outline visible through the shower curtain. “What are you doing in here?” She asked, her voice wavering a bit from both excitement and fear.

“I also needed a shower, and I figured why not save water?” He said, alarmingly calm. As soon as the words registered through her brain, the shower curtain opened. This wasn’t the first time Dream and Y/N were close to having sex it almost happened when he was 20 and Y/N was 18. They had gotten into an argument which led to a heated makeout session, which they both agreed to forget. “Dream!” Y/N shrieked when she saw his body come into view. Her entire body froze, as her eyes just took in his bare body. “Like the view? It’s not the first time you’ve seen it. Or the second, or third.” He said, grabbing her hips pulling her towards him.

Yeah they’ve made out and saw each other naked multiple times, some accidental. But never did she think this would be happening, “I will not touch you, or anything without your permission princess.” He whispered into her ear, and Y/N felt her insides melt at his words. She wanted this, she has for quite a while. Dream has too. But he had patience, but he was no longer patient once he overheard their conversation about him earlier when he was on his way to the kitchen. “Please Dream.” Y/N spoke up, knocking Dream out of his trance, and a smirk found its way onto his features. “As you wish.”

Turning her around he shoved her onto the shower wall, and she leaned against it for support. “Your safe word is Dove.” He said slowly, as his hands trailed over her wet body. He moved over a bit, so the water could hit him as well. “I will then ask for your color. Green means keep going after a short break, and red means stop completely, okay?” He explained, and Y/N nodded her head. He slowly and teasingly trailed a hand up, and wrapped his hand back around her throat, “Will you be a good girl and keep quiet?” He said in her ear, and Y/N nodded her head, “Yes sir.” She said, and Dream growled at the name. “Good girl.” He said, and slowly he used his free hand to finger her so she could be prepared.

Moving the hand up, he tapped her lips as he inserted two fingers into her mouth, “Suck.” He ordered, and Y/N happily obliged since she loved to have things in her mouth she could chew or suck on. Sucking on his fingers, he slowly removed them from her mouth. Moving his hand back down, the other hand still wrapped around her throat. Slowly he inserted one finger, and she let out a quiet moan as she bit her lip. Slowly he started moving his finger in and out, loving the way her body reacted to it. She wasn’t a virgin, she had lost it when she was 17 with some random guy at a party. Picking up the pace, he slowly inserted another finger, and she bit her bottom lip to hold back the moan.

Picking up the pace of his fingers, he started to curl his fingers searching for the certain spot. Y/N accidentally let out a loud moan when he hit a spot that sent pleasure everywhere throughout her body. Dream smirked once he knew he had found it, “Quieter princess.” He warned, and she nodded her head leaning it against the wall. Thrusting his fingers quickly, making sure he repeatedly hit that spot, she found herself growing close to her climax. Dream noticed this by the way her legs started to shake, and he slowly pulled his fingers out. He licked them clean, and she whined at the loss of pleasure. Smirking, he grabbed his dick aligning it to her entrance.

Slowly he inserted the tip, and kept going until he bottomed out. Y/N winced from how big he was, “Fuck..” She whispered, in both pain and pleasure, “Please move.” She begged, and Dream knew she wouldn't be able to keep quiet by how she reacted when he entered her. Moving his free hand up, he forced his fingers into her mouth, instantly letting them go to the back of her throat. She gagged around his fingers, as he started pounding into her. Letting out choked moans on his fingers, she felt tears rolling down her face. It was mixed with the water from the shower head, on her left side and her tears. Dream picked up the pace, pulling her body back against him so he could see her fucked out face. Groaning once he saw the tears, and her crossed eyes, he moved his hand from her throat down to play with her clit.

Getting overwhelmed with the sensation she felt herself grow close again, Dream on the other hand didn’t care if she made noises now. He wanted to hear her, he quickly pulled his fingers out of her mouth and held her steady by her hip with his other hand. Y/N felt herself cum on his dick, and Dream felt her clench around him making him hiss at the feeling. He kept pounding into her, making her grow overstimulated. Screaming out, she grabbed his wrist that led to the hand that was toying with her clit. Digging her nails into his wrist, her eyes rolled back and she started babbling out incoherent words, “Is my princess fucked dumb? Is my dick so good that she can’t talk?” He cooed, feeling himself growing closer. Y/N nodded her head, moans and blabbering was the only thing she could let out. Pulling out quickly, he felt himself cum on her ass and some on her lower back. Groaning he leaned his head back and bit his bottom lip. The water was now getting cold, so he quickly cleaned her up and washed her hair, and body before he got out drying her off as she was clearly out of it.

Dressing her, he himself quickly got dressed carrying her to his room. Laying her down, he laid beside of her and wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her neck softly. “Goodnight princess.” He whispered, and Y/N tiredly mumbled it back.

#mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt smut #mcyt fanfiction #dreamwastaken #dream x reader #dreamsmp #dreamwastaken smut

781 notes · View notes

greenmonstercollarbones · 3 years

Text

So I woke up at the 4 am the other night with a weird half unconscious idea that has developed into headcanons so I shall share them with you!

Living With the Turtles Headcanons

You aren't dating any of them (yet) but the longer you live there the closer you get with them to the point that they're like your brothers.

You have to move in because you aren't from their dimension originally. You came there from yours and whoever you were in their dimension had some sort of power because when you came and replaced them you received these powers. (I would also assume they replaced you in your dimension)

The dimension switching is apparently irreversible according to Donnie, although he tried really hard to find a way at first. So you're stuck with the turtle folk. Say goodbye to your family. :P

(should we create a villain that did this or just assume it was baxter even tho we don't know what happened to him. Because either way the turtle beat the shit outta whoever did it)

The first night you stay there out of urgency and they all offer their beds to you, you decline and say you can sleep on the couch but Leo MAKES you take his bed because it's the cleanist. He sleeps on the couch the first few nights you stay and you feel so bad.

UNTIL you come home one day to find Raph and Donnie demolishing a corner next to Mikey and Raph's bed. Like hammer to wall. When you ask the what the hell they're doing they tell you they're making a little nook for you so you can have privacy.

There's not really any rooms in the lair, except Splinter's.

So you kinda just share a space with the boys.

Speaking of Splinter he's was very excited for you to stay even though he had just met you. Later he tells you it's because he wanted the guys to get to hang out with someone constantly who they weren't "working" with. He said it would help them all chill out and bond more (he was right).

When your "room" is ready it has a curtain for privacy. The twin bed is pushed against one side of the wall. Then there a shelf with drawers and bins and stuff pushed on the other side with a very narrow "hallway" for you to walk through. The "hallway" is so small that none of them can really fit through it, they'll usually just talk to you at the end of your bed or crawl over it.

There's so many blankets, pillows, and stuffies stacked on your bed. The blankets were made by Raph specifically for you (even though he won't admit it) but you know because they're your favorite color. Apparently the stuffies are their old stuffed animals that they had stashed away (& luckily they even got them back from the old lair)

You feel bad about the stuffies and try to give them back but the guys refuse. But you make sure to take good care of them.

Mikey and April had gotten you some new clothes since you had to move in a hurry and most of your clothes got left behind.

(I hc that the city pays them for their work after the second movie, they kinda rich now 😏)

Raph even knit you some sweaters (again refuses to admit he made them specifically for you but again they're your favorite colors and SO SMALL? WHY ELSE WOULD YOU KNIT SUCH A SMALL SWEATER RAPHAEL?)

As fun as they are during the "day" (which is actually nighttime since they can only go out in the dark, you have to shift your sleeping schedule to make it easier to live with them.) The real fun you guys have is at bedtime.

Mikey always has some silly questions or conversation pieces to bring up. Resulting in you joining in from behind your curtain. Sometimes tho you'll just leave the curtain open and sit at the edge of your bed talking to him and Raph.

Donnie joins in sometimes but for the most part you guys are just annoying him while he works (he barely sleeps and lives off of caffeine) so he'll blast music in his headphones and ignore y'all.

Leo will very RARELY join in on the conversation because he wants to go to bed when he wants to go to bed. He'll keep telling you to shut up but eventually will fall asleep anyways.

Mikey will either sleep dead through the night or wake up constantly every hour. It's 50/50.

On the nights he keeps waking up, none of you get a ton of sleep (lucky for you, you kinda have all night to catch up on sleep while they're busy or gone)

Mikey will wake up in the middle of the day (their night) and find something to make drama. Which he finds really easy seeing as your the first girl he's lived with, making new material he's never used on his brothers before.

"Dude I think y/n is having a sex dream. It's totally about me."

Donnie will always be the first one to have to deal with this nonsense. "What the fuck are you talking about Michelangelo."

"LISTEN, SHE TOTALLY JUST MOANED MY NAME."

At this point your awake and humor him.

"hmmm Leo~" you moan in your 'sleep'.

At this point Raph is awake too and although he's grumpy, he actually chuckles at this.

A situation very similar happens another night where Raph's stirring so hard in his sleep it wakes everyone up. You however try to go back to sleep while Mikey has to do this bit again,

"He's having a sex dream about y/n."

"Mikey we're not doing this again, there's no way you'd know that." Leo grumpily responses to this nonsense.

"No he is, he totally has a boner and was moaning her name."

Leo groans as Mikey swings open your curtain and comes over to your bed, he whispers to you

"Raphie's have a sex dream about you."

The following week raph had gotten injured and had to sit out on various adventures, which is the background to your following response.

"Oh I know. He was moaning my name during a nap a week ago. Now let me sleep." You sleepily whisper from under your blanket.

You also occasionally will just crawl into their beds. Sometimes to wake them up, to talk, to comfort them after a nightmare, or just to cuddle (platonically)

There have been a few nights where you'll crawl into Leo's bed and he'll be all upset because he wants to sleep and you tell him to just shut up and enjoy the warmth.

Sometimes when you'd notice Donnie couldn't sleep you would crawl into bed with him and rub his arm softly. Sometimes you'd even have to talk him to sleep, either receiving nerd talk, or boring him with your own interest until he passes out.

And sometimes they'd come to your bed. Either to comfort you as you'd cry yourself to sleep because you're upset about never seeing your dimension again. Or to comfort you after a nightmare either about your past or about not being about to control your new powers.

DID ANYONE LIKE THIS FUTURE ME? SHOULD I WRITE MORE?

#tmnt 2016 #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt bayverse #tmnt x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt headcanons #tmnt 2014

415 notes · View notes

like-rain-or-confetti · 3 years

Text

Request: Afraid of the Dark and Thunderstorms (Caius Volturi x Reader x Athenodra Volturi)

Like many children, you didn't like the dark. You were afraid of it and that made bedtime a problem ever now and then. Although this particular night was worse because of the thunderstorm. The Volturi had hoped you'd sleep through it.

Alas, your scream rang out before you took off running out of your room looking for the closest person to protect you. All the while, the wind caused the windows to whistle as the rain pounded against them. In your eyes, the dark had brought allies as the weather roared above you only the walls separating you. Jane was the first to find you with her usual blank expression. She said nothing, lifting you onto her hip as you sobbed. "Janey, don't let it get me." You hiccupped through your tears as she walked with you back to the direction of your room. "Nothing will hurt you." She said quietly without any expression. However she did give you a reassuring squeeze. She carried you back into your room and that was when you began to kick and cry harder. "No!" Jane paused for a moment. "There's nothing in here, (Y/N). Nothing will hurt you either." You continued to kick your legs, crying hysterically. So much so that Jane decided to was best to take you somewhere else. Your face was bright red as you continued to cry into Jane's shoulder.

Alec, Heidi, Demetri and Felix turned to see Jane carrying you into the kitchen. "Hey kiddo, what's wrong?" Felix said but you didn't respond, continuing to cry. "Did something happen?" Alec asked moving to his sister's side and placing a cool hand on your back. "I believe it's the storm as well as the dark but they seem to grow more distressed when I took them back to bed. Given their state I couldn't leave them in there and I wasn't sure if they're alright." Jane admitted. "I'll get them some water." Heidi said, gliding to the cabinets for a glass."

Another crash of thunder followed by lightening made you jump through your hysteric tears. "Give them to me." Demetri said quietly as he reached for you. Jane passed you over with ease and much like Jane had, Demetri had your head resting on his shoulder whilst holding you up against against him. He swayed slightly. "You're very warm, sweetheart." Demetri said softly to you. He rubbed your back, hoping his cold temperature would begin to cool you down through your pajamas or, at least, calm you.

Slowly Demetri walked with you to the countertop as Heidi filled up the glass in her hand. He sat you on the counter. "Oh sweetheart," Heidi cooed as Demetri wiped your tears. The two saw your bright red face and bloodshot eyes. Suddenly you coughed, choking through your tears. Demetri patted your back. "You're alright, sweetheart. Nothing is going to hurt you." Heidi said softly as she raised the glass to your lips. Demetri put a hand on your forehead, another attempt to cool you down. "Your little heart is going so fast, little one." Heidi said. "Try to take deep breaths for me okay, sweetheart?" After a few sips, you said through tears as much as you could manage. "I-I want m-m-my mummy and d-daddy!"

As they got Athenodora to the kitchen, she was nearly devastated to see her child in such a state. "Oh sweetheart, it's alright." She said immediately moving towards you and bringing you into her arms. Seeing your mother made you burst into tears again as you clung to her. Athenodora had wanted you with her in the tower at all times. However Caius refused this. He argued he wanted you to be close to both your mother and father as well as the guards. You wouldn't be going to the tower until you were a few years older at least. However the downfall of that is in times like these where your parents weren't there to comfort you. "The storm is pretty loud, isn't it?" Athenodora said softly. She swayed you slightly in her arms. Your head resting against her shoulder. You nodded, your cries escalating just at the thought. "It can't hurt you, my love. It's just loud noises. Remember it's the same with the dark? It can't touch you. There's nothing to be afraid of. Outside is all wet isn't it? Cold and wet. In here, it's nice and dry. In your bed, it's safe, dry and warm.” "I-I d-don't like it when it's d-dark!" You cried. "How about you and I go back to your bed together, hm? We'll have a look out the window so you can see there's nothing to worry about."

Athenodora noticed how you clutched at her even as she spoke to you. She had turned on your bedroom light, showing you nothing about the room had changed and once she had switched it off again she carried you to the window. She showed you the long eerie dark looking fingers were actually just tree branches. The low whistling was just the wind bouncing off of the glass. The rain couldn't hurt you then just as it never had before. Yet by the time she put you back to bed, you were still upset, frightened as your big imagination ran wild with possibilities. Then it dawned on her why you were still so tense. You didn't just need your mother but also your father.

"Master, pardon my intrusion." Heidi said as she entered the throne room. "What is it, my dear?" Aro asked, looking over from his book. Something Marcus and Caius didn't. "I regret to inform you that the storm has woken (Y/N) and they are unable to settle. I was told that they request their father." Caius lowered the book onto the table. "What is the issue? Are they misbehaving?" Heidi shook her head. "No, master. They are deeply upset and you have been requested by your mate. We fear something is terribly wrong." At the mention of his wife and the suspicion of something being wrong with his child he cut in. "Don't say another word- I'm on my way."

Within seconds, Caius entered your bedroom to the sight of his wife sitting the your bedside. You had curled your body to put your head on her lap. "I tried to tell them you were busy." Athenodora said to him but Caius shook his head. "It can't be helped." You looked up at the sound of your father's voice. "Come." Caius said quietly. "It's bedtime." You complied, lying back as he maneuvered himself into the space beside you. Your small body trembled, sniffles wracked your body. "Don't be scared. I'm right here." He said gently as he rubbed your back. "It's so late, little one. It's well and truly past your bedtime." It was very clear that you saw Caius as your protector. As your father, of course you'd think that and he most certainly was. If anyone could get through to you, it was him. Caius made sure you were wrapped up with the covers. You had curled into his side, your small hand gripping his jacket. "Nothing is going to hurt you. The storm will pass and it's time to sleep." "Don't leave." You said quietly to Caius. "Don't worry, I'll stay here until you fall asleep." "You'll be with me even after that?" You mumbled. "Yes, I will stay with you even after that." Caius said before kissing the top of your head. "I'll always be with you."

#twilight #volturi #the volturi #child!reader #caius volturi #athenodora volturi #request #one shot #oneshot

322 notes · View notes

h2bakugou · 3 years

Note

oh my god hi, ive binge read all your stuff recently tbh XD

Can i request a song fic for one Bakuhoe please? I feel “Fruit Roll Ups” by Waterparks would work perfectly for him (x gn!reader ofc)

I hope that made sense? yeah sorry XD THANK YOU IF YOU DO akskhfjfkdka

a/n: hii!! yes! i just started playing this song to write this request, and i am HOOKED. it's so good, and it radiates such bakugou energy.

summary: bakugou realizes he has a bit of a soft spot for you.

song: Fruit Roll Ups by Waterparks

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff

word count: 1k (lyrics included)

> fanart < made by the lovely @windex-princess-ami for this story!!

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

I got some Fruit By The Foot if you wanna come over Yeah, you can wrap your arms so tight Right 'round my shoulders In case you're scared of the movies I pick I'm sorry in advance for that shit

Your phone screen illuminates with a text from your boyfriend who's deemed 'katsu bae<3' in your contacts. His message is short and sweet, saying he picked up from snacks for your arranged movie night if you were ready to head on over.

You shoot a message back saying you'd be over in a few minutes. You'd been looking forward to spending a bit more time with him. Training had kept the both of you busy lately.

You look forward to cuddling with him because you know he'll pick something spooky, maybe a thriller. You know he's just using it as an excuse for you to snuggle into him. But you don't mind.

Bakugou feels a little bad for making you watch stupid scary movies that he finds to be rather annoying or funny while you may jump or cling to him when he wants to bust out laughing.

When you talk It's in cursive to me And it's nicer than anything I'd believe about me It's like that shit was written in gel pen And I love those

You're sitting in his lap this time around, his arms draped around your shoulders. You're just chatting about your day but Bakugou is kind of zoning out. He's listening, but he's just hearing your voice. It's angelic and beautiful.

He can't quite understand how you can sound so beautiful, almost like your voice was writing in cursive, the delicate strokes were the way you sounded out his name.

And whenever you complimented him, he felt warm inside. Whenever you said anything about him, he felt warm inside. You were so kind. So loving. He wasn't sure how you just seemed to brush his brashness aside, but you did, and it astounded him.

If you want to see me Acting so desperately So desperately All you gotta do is stop texting me Just to flex on me

Bakugou can't stand it when you text him all the time, asking him to come over when you're laying in bed, blowing up his phone even though he's supposed to be sleeping.

He's not mad. He's jealous. He wants to be right there beside you, but he isn't. He replies 'if you wanna see me so bad then just come over.' but you usually just tell him to go to bed and that it's past his little bedtime.

Bakugou knows you just love messaging him goodnight whenever it is you go to sleep. And he'll wait for those messages. And if it's been too long, and you don't respond, you'll always wake up with a 'goodnight dumbass <3' from him in the morning, way too late for him to have stayed up.

It's true I'm a little bitch for you now I don't wanna say it way too loud But I'm a little bitch for you now

Bakugou hates it. The way you make him feel. It's the good kind of hate, the kind of hate you learn to love. Like hearing that one song on repeat so much you end up adding it to your playlist because you have it memorized at this point anyway.

He feels warm and happy. He feels like maybe he doesn't deserve someone like you. You're so perfect, so perfect for him, maybe too perfect even.

Bakugou can't help but mumble to himself that he's gotten soft, and Kaminari's teasing comments certainly don't help either. He's supposed to be the tough number one hardass, but here you are breaking him out of that stupid little box he's locked himself in to try and remain on top.

He'd already fallen, fallen so hard and so far for you.

I bought these really sick lights if you wanna come over They tried to scam me twice But look, they both can change colors like that Like that, oh oh

Bakugou refuses to send you any regular pictures after Kaminari practically bought those LED light strips for him. Though it was far too hard to actually purchase them and install them, Bakugou's always sending you some pic in the pretty red lights or moody blue ones.

You enjoy laying on his bed while they're on, listening to him talk about what Deku said to him earlier while you switch them to green just to egg him on. He's complaining shouting at you to change them back to orange or red.

You switch them to your favorite color and now he can't complain-even if your favorite color is green.

I don't wanna leave my house 'Cause in here I'm the ruler With my refrigerator Full of Pacific Cooler But for you, I'd brave all the traffic outside The way you brave all the bullshit I hold inside

When Bakugou leaves the privacy of his loneliness to be with you, he's vulnerable. But he tolerates it, swallowing down those weird feelings he's never really understood before.

But he does it. He braves it for you. The way you stand up to him when he's a jerk to Midoriya, or when he raises his voice at you, or when you spar and he's not holding back. You tell him to let it out. Everything he keeps inside, you tell him you can handle it, and you do.

He doesn't understand how you do it. But he doesn't want to.

Oh it's true, ooh I'm a little bitch for you now I'm a little bitch, oh my God Did I say that too loud? It's true I'm a little bitch for you now I don't wanna say it way too loud But I'm a little bitch for you now

"Fuck, I love you so fuckin' much." Bakugou mumbles against your forehead as you cuddle.

You smile against his chest, nuzzling into him more. He freezes when he feels your smile.

"You didn't hear that..." He replies softly, nuzzling himself into your hair, flustered by his own words of admiration for you.

"You know I love you just as much right? Even if it sounds cheesy." You lift your head to look him in his crimson-colored eyes. He just hums quietly, leaning down to press a little kiss to your cheek.

"I know. I just, wanna remember this moment for a while." Bakugou replies, closing his eyes as he holds you close.

"You wanna split a fruit roll-up after?" You ask quietly.

"Mhm."

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

271 notes · View notes