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#let me just vomit my thoughts so that I stop thinking about bad things
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Peace Offerings Pt. 8
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Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader
Series Summary: Joel makes a bad impression on the reader when he cuts in front of her at the radio station in the QZ. Abe, a father figure to her and an informant of Joel’s, informs her that the two have something in common: A brother in Wyoming. Joel reluctantly follows Abe’s wishes when he asks him to take the reader along to help find her brother too. As the journey goes on, she finds that despite his best efforts to make her think so, Joel isn’t a complete asshole, and maybe even a little… attractive?
Series Warnings: Slow burn, Age gap (reader is 34, Joel is 56), 18+ Minors DNI, Sexual Themes, Violence, Injuries (depictions of blood, bruising, broken bones), Cursing, Grumpy!Joel, Minimal depictions of reader's appearance (hair color/length.)
Chapter Warnings: Yelling, Dead animals/eating meat (rabbit/dear), Vomiting.
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Part Eight
Our boots crunched through the snow as we made our way through the thick woods. My cheeks stung from the bitter cold, my hands were still numb despite being buried into my pockets, and my stomach was practically eating itself. I thought about asking Joel to stop so I could eat something from our stash, but I kept ahead, dreading a conversation with him. I didn’t trust myself to not mention last night. Our kiss was implanted into my brain. No matter how badly I wanted to forget it, to purge the embarrassment that I’d felt afterwards out of my mind, I couldn’t. The desperation of his hands clenching my shirt, the way his beard stung as it rubbed against my face, the way he tasted. It was all painfully unforgettable, and I didn’t dare mention it. Afterall, it was a mistake. 
About 20 quiet minutes down the path, we came across a lone cabin. I gawked at the smoke coming from the chimney, and the rabbits and deer hung up outside. Joel put a hand up for me to stop walking. “It’s occupied. Might have to keep moving.” He muttered. “But they have food… and warmth!” I argued a little too loudly, letting my immediate need for both of those things spill out of me. Joel glared as if saying “Shut the fuck up.” By the time we turned back to the cabin, an older woman was standing on the porch looking our way. Joel handed me his gun and walked towards her slowly with his hands raised above his head. “Ma’am, we’re not looking for trouble, just passing through.” Joel called out. She stared for a moment longer, her eyes meeting Joel’s, then mine. “You guys hungry?” She called out.  We looked at each other. Joel shook his head, no. But I walked forward, my stomach making ungodly noises at the mention of food. “Starving.” I called out. Joel shot me a look. “I think she’s alone, Joel.” I whispered. “Or she could have someone waiting in the house to slaughter us.” he seethed back. “We’ll find out.” I said as I walked past him, hands raised.  My name left Joel’s lips in an exasperated sigh, “Goddammnit.” 
“Leave your guns at the door, my husband will be back soon.” She said bluntly as we timidly entered the house. Joel shot me another look as if saying “I told you so.” I ignored him and surveyed the area. There was wooden furniture arranged around a fireplace, and the walls were decorated with fur and animal bones. A fire warmed and incensed the small cabin. “Soup okay?” She asked as she moved to the small kitchen on the opposite wall of the same room. Joel and I nodded, watching closely as she ladled the already warmed soup into wooden bowls. She slowly made her way over to us, her age dwindling her speed. One of the reasons I wasn’t afraid of her. She handed me a bowl first. I whispered, “Thank you.” and immediately tipped the contents into my mouth. “Slow down.” Joel grunted as he accepted his own bowl. I ignored him and gulped down the so-called soup. It was broth with either rabbit or deer meat. Either way, I was ecstatic to have food in my stomach. 
“There’s a bed in the loft,” the woman spoke over the rhythmic creak of her rocking chair, then nodded towards me, “your girl looks tired.” Joel’s eyes reluctantly shifted towards me but I did my best to avoid eye-contact. A place to rest my aching self sounded like heaven. I began to stand up, but Joel grabbed my wrist before saying, “She’s not- She’s fine.” I pulled away and shot him an annoyed look. I knew he didn’t want to split up, but the last thing I wanted to do was sit next to him on a tiny wooden bench. It was hard enough to fight the urge to lean against him. And in addition to that, my side was throbbing and it was a chore to keep my back straight while sitting on the hard surface. “I would love to lay down ma’am. Thank you.” I said politely before climbing up the stairs to the loft.
 In the corner of the room was a small mattress with what looked like handmade quilts. I 
sighed and gently laid down onto the plush material. I was just starting to give in to the heaviness of my eyelids when I heard the door open and the unzipping of a jacket. There was a moment of eerie quiet before a man’s voice blurted “Who the hell are you?” Joel’s voice calmly answered, “Just someone passing through. Take the gun out, two fingers only and put it out of reach.” The gun clattered onto a table. “Why didn’t you shoot him?” the man asked. I assumed he was addressing the woman. “The gun was all the way over there.” Another moment of silence passed and then she spoke again, “He didn’t hurt me by the way.” The man groaned, “Yeah I see that… You made him soup?” His voice hurled towards annoyance. “Yeah…I did. It’s cold out.” the woman answered in a tone that made it seem like it was the obvious thing to do. I almost giggled at the casualness of the couple. Any other people would have Joel and I at gunpoint or even dead by now, but here they were worrying about soup. 
I moved silently to peek down at them between the rungs of the railing. The man had plopped into a chair, seemingly unbothered by Joel holding him at gunpoint. He was still layered in multiple sweaters, and as he took off his hat, short, white hair was revealed. “I’m looking for my brother.” Joel said, trying to get the interaction on track. “Well I ain’t seen ‘im.” The man responded. “I haven’t told you what he looks like.” Joel replied, a hint of sass in his tone. “He look anything like you?” The man asked. “A bit.” I tried to imagine what the man would look like, whether he was younger or older, all questions I could never ask. “Then I ain’t seen him.” The man grunted. The woman spoke again, “He’s got a woman with him.” My stomach dropped and I moved to hide behind an animal skin that had been draped over the bannister. “Uh..No.” Joel said panickedly. “He does! Just saw her.” The man exclaimed. “Dammit.” Joel cursed under his breath as I stood up, keeping my hands visible to them to show I wasn’t a threat. “Who’s this beauty?” The man asked, his eyes following my form as I descended the stairs. I clenched my jaw nervously and went to stand next to Joel. “Nevermind her.” He said while moving his body in front of mine. I stepped out from behind him, annoyed with the fact that he’d pushed me away but still insisted on bossing me around. I felt the woman’s eyes on me. A soft smile was spread across her round face. I responded with a smile of my own, and then focused back onto the men’s tense conversation. 
Joel finally got the man to plant a finger to show where we were on the map. He sighed frustratedly and paced, “Well you found a great place to hide I guess.” The man chuckled, “Look, I came out here before you were born, sonny.” The woman turned to Joel and I and said, “I didn’t want to.” I furrowed my eyebrows in empathy, but my attention was brought back to the man as he continued to speak. “And I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother, but if you’ve come this far then you know what’s out there. You seen Cody?” He asked. I sat up and joined into the conversation, “Yeah we’ve been close enough. It’s crawling with infected.” He nodded, “Laramie, Wind River Reservation… Anywhere people used to be, you can’t go there no more.” Joel finally sat down and rang his hands nervously, “So you haven’t heard the name Tommy?” The inflection of his voice had changed slightly. I sounded more anxious than usual. “Or Matthew?” I asked hopefully. “There’s two men you’re looking for?” The man asked exasperatedly. “Our brothers are supposed to have been in the same state. They left together with a group of fireflies.” I explained. “Like the bugs?” The woman questioned, her face twisted in confusion. “Not the bugs, the people.” I said again, trying to stay patient. “There are firefly people?” She asked again. The couple burst out laughing and I bit my lip, desperately trying not to join in. Joel was not having it, “You got any advice on the best way west?” The man leaned forward, “Yeah. Go East.” He pointed to a depiction of a river on the map, “Never go past the river here. Ever.” I looked up from the map, “What’s past the river?” I asked reluctantly. “Death. We’ve never seen who’s out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some infected, some not. If your brothers are west of the river, they’re gone.” 
The woman’s words felt like a punch to the gut. The thought that I’d done all of this- gone through all of this only to find that my brother was dead made bile rise up into my throat. My pulse thumped in my ears as I stood up. “Need some fresh air.” I breathed as I stumbled towards the door, almost tripping over the rug made out of bear fur. I squinted from the blinding sun as I opened the door and walked back out into the freezing weather. I leaned against the side of the house as I sucked in the cold air, trying to keep myself in reality. I needed to hold onto the hope that Matthew would still be alive. Those people were clueless. They had no idea what was going on in the world besides the cordyceps. There’s no way I was letting them convince me my brother was dead. The “what ifs” were still enough to make me lean over the railing and spew the soup all over the white snow. 
The door opened behind me and I heard Joel’s heavy boots step onto the landing. My name fell softly from his lips, and I felt his hand on my back. I leaned up off of the railing and shoved away from him. “Don’t touch me, Joel.” I sobbed. His hand retracted from me and he stepped back. His face was heavy with a mixture of grief, anxiety, anger and everything in between. “I’ve been thinking about this.” I said shakily as I wiped my face and turned to him. He looked at me through the side of his eyes, refusing to face me. “I’ve been thinking… what if they’re not there. What if this dream I’ve been having is real-“ He cut me off and growled, “No. DON’T FUCKING SAY THAT.” The volume of his voice caused me to shriek and recoil back. My body shrunk into the corner of the landing, and I stared at him wide-eyed. He dug his hands into his hair and pulled his head downwards onto the railing opposite to me. “We can’t believe that.” He whispered, his voice cracking under the immense weight of the situation. 
He was losing it. No longer able to keep up the cold, emotionless, strong man act. The thought of losing his brother broke something in him. He stood at the railing and heaved. He wasn’t crying, he was panicking. Fighting the same thoughts I had been for the past few weeks. 
I decided that this time, I would be the one to put my hand on his back. I pushed up off of the side of the house and slowly moved towards him. I raised a shaky hand to the brown leather of his coat, and pressed it in between his broad shoulders. His head raised up from between his hands and he caught sight of me in the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry.” He breathed. I shook my head, “Don’t be.” He slowly straightened from his crouched position and stood facing me. “Joel.” I said while maintaining eye contact, “I’m going to hug you now. Not because I want to, but because I need to. And you’re going to let me, because no matter how strong or manly you are, I know damn well you need it too.” He stared down at me, neither accepting or rejecting my declaration. I slowly raised my arms to his torso and my hands connected with the warmth of him. As I brought my body closer and closer, I waited for him to push me away or yell at me, but he didn’t. He stood still as our bodies connected. I pressed my head against his chest while wrapping my arms tightly around him. He didn’t hug me back. I didn’t expect him to. But the absence of his refusal was a sign that I was right- he did need it. Not wanting to push my luck, I began to pull away. It was only then that he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulled our bodies back together, and rested his chin against my head. I closed my eyes and breathed in a full breath for the first time in years. My heavy heart felt lighter.
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As always, thank you for reading!! <3
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Tagging ppl I think would enjoy!!:
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sickeninglyshoujo · 2 months
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a/n: i saw the renders (you know the ones) and became feral with need for dad!ghost, other cod dads coming soon, sorry to my friends for being forced to read me word vomit this in chat over four hours. ao3 link coming soon warnings: pregnancy talk word count: 1.8k
Simon doesn’t like when the baby wears the skulls but you do because it reminds you of him
When he grew up he equated the skull mask to terror, the baby only has positive thoughts about it and gets excited seeing it yelling out “daddy!” if she sees the motif in public, mortifying Simon and delighting you. Onlookers growing even more concerned when you coo back, “Yes, that is daddy!” pointing to the Halloween display of a grim reaper statue.
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I can tell you that Simon is a master at baby rearing
Simon would absolutely carry the baby under his arm like a football once her neck is strong enough even if you don’t like it because it’s more comfortable like that
It’s second nature to him somehow
Even when you’re stressed about the baby and can’t get her to stop crying somehow Simon just comes over and says the one thing you haven’t tried because he can differentiate between her cries
You were afraid about introducing the baby to Riley, but Simon wasn’t. “They live in the same flipping house, he has t’ get used to her!”
“But not when she’s newborn! Let her get a little bigger first!”
“No better time than now! She’ll never be afraid of him then and he’ll protect her!”
“They call them malingators for a reason!”
“Riley is a well-trained retired soldier. He’s not going to hurt the baby.”
The first meeting had Simon holding the baby in his arms and stooping down to Riley’s level, Riley nosing at the baby’s sock-covered feet hanging from Simon’s arms, sniffing excitedly. You stood above Simon, wringing your hands together, ready to jump in between the two at a moment's notice.
“This is your baby sister, Riley,” Simon instructed the dog whose ears moved, listening to his master’s voice, “She’s your new assignment, boy.”
“Bloodthirsty, isn’ he?” Simon asked you with a grin as the dog yawned and stayed calmly seated, beginning to lick at the baby's booties.
“Shut it, Si.”
Riley is the baby’s shadow. If she so much as sniffles he’s darting across the house trying to find out what’s wrong. It’s like Simon’s watching over her even when on missions 
Simon hates that the dog is named Riley because he thinks it’s stupid and is constantly begging to rename the dog. You refuse because you like the constant reminder of your husband. It doesn't matter that he shares the family name.
When you first bring the baby home from the hospital Simon is in constant awe at how tiny she is. Like a little doll he keeps telling you to the point he sounds like a broken record
Simon constantly worried about baby being cold 2k24 and always has a blankie in the diaper bag or draped over the baby carrier.
After missions he would look for you first when he came home before stripping off the dirt and grime of missions and now it’s the baby. He used to think you were his reason to keep trying to save the world and now it’s her. It only stings a little but that is soothed when you see the awe in his face when she coos at him from her crib
It isn’t long before Simon is trying to get you to agree to try for another “Jus’ one more love,” he'll mutter into your neck after the baby is put down for the night and you two have retired to your bedroom only to be batted away weakly
“Oh no, Si! No more babies and no more sex! Not if you’re going to talk like that!”
“But yer such a good mum. We should have a houseful.”
Simon would petition you to quit your job because it’s bad enough the baby has to deal with him being gone on missions they shouldn’t have their mum gone too
“I make more ‘an enough for you to stay home with her!”
“The money isn’t the point, Si,” You coo at the baby on your lap, “I don’t need to be a housewife and I like working!”
You giggle whenever the other 141 men are over because they will carry the diaper bag slung over their shoulder and completely at odds with their uniforms.
It heats your cheeks to watch your burley husband in full military uniform when you greet him on base, bouncing your baby on his hips, playfully pulling her hands away when she gets too close to a switch or something she shouldn't touch, particularly when other women notice him too
It would swell your chest with pride when you and Si were out with the baby and he’d get longing looks from women when he was doing dadly things like pushing the stroller or rifling through the diaper bag for her bottle or burp cloth. 
“You have to have seen the way women look at you when you’re carrying the baby.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“You’re practically tormenting them, Si! And me too! You’re all big and tough! You’re in uniform or in a compression shirt and then you’re holding onto her in just your arm while she can’t even wrap a hand around one of your fingers!”
Simon doesn’t understand your point, “I’m tormenting you?”
Heat flushes your cheeks, “I like watching you be a dad to our daughter.”
The baby has essentially four dads as all of 141 takes care of the baby when they come to visit on leave
You worry about them spoiling her, “She’ll get too used to being held Si!”
“Then damn well let ‘er!”
“What about when they leave!”
“You think they’re leaving?! Soaps brought a bloody duffel!”
Because when you have the baby Captain Price, Soap, and Gaz are all going to visit. Moving into your cramped guest room for easily the first month after the baby’s born, Gaz and Soap fighting over who gets the futon and who has to share the bed with the Captain.
They need to see the baby!
They never thought Si would settle down but that was before you and your endless patience with the grumpy military man set in his ways.
You didn’t miss when Price clapped him on the shoulder after Simon showed off the baby for the first time, “You did well, Son.”
“Thank god she got the missus’ looks!” Soap crowed, “I was worried she’d get L.t.’s ugly mug!”
“I was hoping she would Johnny,” you peer down at the baby in Simon’s arms and trace a finger down her cheek, “She did get his eyes though. You know those were the first thing I noticed when we started talking, Si? How sad your eyes were.”
“Don’ have “sad eyes”.”
“I thought you did. And you were wearing that silly skull balaclava too, so I couldn’t very well fall in love with your chiseled jaw or the cute scar on your lip,” Soap and Gaz howled in laughter, missing the dirty looks from Ghost (You did too, eyes entirely on your daughter swaddled in a soft terry blanket in her father’s arms)
“Hey L.t. let me give you a few more scars for the missus to kiss!” Gaz ribbed
You never minded patching Simon up after missions. It gave you an excuse to ogle your husband in detail. Even before you were married, he’d tried to wave you off when you’d dab at the blood encrusted cuts and then flush when after taking care of the ones on his arms, much less when he stretched and took off his shirt for you to do the ones on his chest too. Thankfully he didn’t notice your brain shorting as you forgot how to breathe when you saw how heavily muscled and tattooed he was, culminating in an audible gasp as your eyes took in his happy trail and Adonis belt. 
“You ok?”
“Y-yeah just banged my foot on the tub.”
He’d later recount this to Soap who nearly banged his head on the wall at how dense Ghost was being
“An’ you wen’ home after that!”
“Yes Johnny, I had PT the next morning and had to ship out that night.”
He let out a string of curses, “The lass likes you and probably was hoping you’d stay the night wi’ her!”
“MacTavish,” Simon warned.
“She let you take off your clothes in her bathroom and then cleaned you up! Lasses don’t do that for cheeky cunts they don’ like!”
You miss him when he’s on missions of course, but it’s easier once you have Riley and then the baby. It’s like you have piece’s of him with you
Si is a beige mom but instead of beige it’s gray. You try and explain the importance of the bright colors in developing the baby’s eyesight but Si just mutters something about no baby of his is going to look like a muppet
Riley used to sleep at the foot of your bed but now he sleeps by the crib. You don’t know when he learned how to work door knobs but it happened somewhere between the third trimester and birth. Now you have to coax him into your room if you miss Si and want to cuddle Riley
You’ve given up on trying to keep Riley out of the nursery and instead just tut when you find dog hairs on the baby. 
Riley is the ever-patient soldier with the baby, letting her pull on his tail and ears, tugging on (and sometimes removing) his fur, all while happily wagging his tail at being used as a jungle gym
When the baby starts toddling and skins her knees, Si can’t help but scoop her up before the first tear leaves her eye “Si you’re spoiling her!” “She hurt herself, I can’ just let her cry” “She hadn't even cried yet!” “She was abou’ to”
Simon is an over attentive dad because he doesn’t want his baby to suffer the same way he did 
Si rolls his eyes whenever you  tell him not to throw the baby in the air because he’ll drop her but he knows his reflexes are superhuman and he’d catch her
SI doesn’t baby talk and will discuss the finer parts of gun mechanics and maintenance with your infant as she gums on a teether.
When she’s older, Si buys her a pellet gun for Christmas and hides it from you until unwrapped on Christmas morning
By the time it’s in her hands you know you’ve lost
He ignores your dirty glance that says “We’ll talk about this later”
As she grows up she starts talking about joining the SAS like her daddy and you’re filled with fear while Si encourages it. Starts taking her training with him much to your horror, first on short jogs around the neighborhood, then to the gym proper to teach her how to throw a punch. She quickly becomes the star of the base, with all the men calling her “Recruit”
“Nothing dangerous yet Si I mean it!”
“She asks for it!”
“She is a child and you are her father! You’re supposed to be the voice of reason!”
“The voice of reason says she might as well be trained right if she wants it!”
a/n: likes/reblogs/comments appreciated please talk to me about dad!ghost i cant contain myself
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ham1lton · 7 days
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the talk.
pairing: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister!reader.
format: mixed media smau.
summary: when o/s asked you to apologise to lando she did not expect for you to start dating him? you decide to break the news over lunch at her favourite restaurant. we’ll see how that goes…
author's note: your favourite sisters on the grid are back! the baddest bitches. also you all voted on giving o/s a bf so keep an eye out for that. if you’re confused on the addition of o/s’s bff - read party in the u.s.a. for more clarification!
— part of the nepo sister universe —
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liked by oldersister, oldersisterbff and 367,691 others.
yourusername: beachtime!! also someone needs to teach those girls in the second slide some manners…. nasty 😒
oldersister: you’re just jealous.
-> oldersisterbff: she doesn’t understand us pookie bear….
-> yourusername: sometimes it shocks me that you’re both older than me and also considered as the best in your respective fields….
user7: the beach designs are so cute!!
user1: what i would give to have o/s gently put her leg over my arm…
-> user2: what i would give to gently put my leg over o/s/bff’s arm…
user8: you think you’re so slick with the soft launch…
-> oldersister: omg i almost didn’t see it…
-> yourusername: THANKS A LOT user8 😒
-> user8: my bad bae 😩‼️
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DINNER TRANSCRIPT BETWEEN OLDER SISTER L/N AND Y/N L/N
-> as detailed and described to her boyfriend LANDO NORRIS.
Y/N (monologue): so to start, i obviously allowed her to take us to a restaurant that she liked to get her in a good mood. i even get there early. i’m all ready, let be rephrase, i was all ready and early, when my sister walked in. she already was mad so i got a start on ordering my food so she’d have to pay the bill.
LANDO: you and your free dinners.
Y/N: keep talking and you’ll fund my ubereats for the next month. this is a monologue lando.
LANDO: got it babe. mouth zipped. no more words.
Y/N: okay so she sits down and gives me a glare. i’m like ‘oh my beautiful amazing sister who funds my eating habits. i wonder how i have annoyed you on this glorious day’.
Y/N as O/S: stop talking shit and tell me who you’re dating.
Y/N: oh no! my sweet glorious sister! i can’t tell you that! you might cut me off your credit card!
Y/N as O/S: i would never do that. i am a fair and sweet sister. i love you y/n and i will give you a lot of money to prove this.
Y/N: oh thank you! love you. then that’s the part where we hugged it out.
LANDO: has anyone ever told you that you should go into acting babe?
Y/N: yes! you think i have a future in it?
LANDO: yes! now tell me what really happened.
Y/N: i said i was dating you. she spat out her drink and started choking on something. we had to call the ambulance and take her to the hospital. she woke up and thought it was a nightmare. then i told her, she vomited and she fainted. to be honest…. i was expecting it to worse. that’s pretty tame. i think she likes you!
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liked by rollingstone, user67 and 1,283,892 others.
oldersister: thank you to rolling stone for photographing me as a part of their front cover. being interviewed in my own home seemed daunting but it was so seamless and fun.
we talked about betrayal, fashion and navigating being a barrier breaker. go read the full article on rolling stone’s website or in the physical march copy!
oldersisterbff: my best friend is so hot and sexy i love you 😍
-> oldersisterbff: hot, sexy and smart? what can’t you do bae?
-> oldersister: lots of things. like ending climate change.
-> oldersisterbff: i think you could 🤷🏼‍♀️
user17: yourusername hasn’t liked this… um…
-> user72: she doesn’t have to like every one of o/s’s post. you forget she actually sees her sister in person.
user455: i love listening to her thoughts. she’s so intelligent i love it.
-> user12: she has two degrees! one she got and an honorary one!
-> user23: unlike lando. does he even have his gcses?
-> user89: stop comparing the two lol. both of them have complained about how annoying it is.
-> user23: comparison is a part of the job. get over it.
user61: she’s so hot. need her sooo bad actually.
rollingstone: we loved having you o/s as our cover girl!
-> oldersister: i loved being your cover girl!
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liked by oldersisterbff, yourbff and 308,727 others.
yourusername: my bitch pose is NAYYYSSTY…don’t ever play with the cat…. that ELBOWWW…
landonorris: when you said you were hard launching me… this isn’t what i was expecting tbh.
-> yourusername: u look cute mwah 😘
-> landonorris: i’ll take anything you give me stink 🤤🤤
oldersister: just vomited actually…. trigger warning next time please.
-> oldersisterbff: i’m omw babe.
-> oldersister: hurry i can feel the light fading from my eyes…
-> yourusername: BOOOOOO!!! you are not florence pugh.
user56: is this the betrayal o/s was talking about in the rolling stone interview??? she’s so dramatic lmaoooo.
oldersister: this is your man?
-> yourusername: yesss 😍😍😍
-> landonorris: hey sister in law 😁
-> oldersister: blocked for harassment.
-> landonorris: NOOOOOOO 😭
user73: how she a nepo baby twice. got f1 connections through her sister and her boyfriend?
-> user89: not how nepotism works tbh….
user67: he looks so goofy lmaooo.
-> yourusername: good keep thinking that. more for me.
-> user67: girl i want you not him 😭
-> landonorris: nuh uh 🙄👎🏼 you can’t have her user67.
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taglist: @23victoria @luckyladycreator2 @mxdi0 @booksandflowrs @charlesleclercsonlywife @molten-m122 @casperlikej @nichmeddar @decafmickey @evie-119 @ironmaiden1313 @d3kstar (wanna be removed? send an ask!)
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mrsnancywheeler · 3 months
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let me down easy // finnick odair x f. reader
based off this blurb
summary: finnick pushed himself away, isolated himself, and you're slipping through his fingers like sand.
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3.8k words
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warnings: angst, a tiny bit of fluff at the end, a little smutty but also very brief, mental illness, insecurity, paranoia, allusions to cheating (no one is actually cheating), slightly mean!finnick, self destructive behavior on all sides, more insecurities, arguments, feeling isolated, slight blood and injury, female rage things, male masturbation, unedited, no use of y/n, brief mentions of vomiting, girls girls all around, annie cresta my beloved being a girl girl, people pleaser reader
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Once every day had felt like it was full of sunlight, even if there were ups and downs you always had each other by the end of it. Now you weren't even sure if you had yourself, let alone Finnick. Worst of all you had no idea what you'd done wrong, at first you chalked it up to how he'd just returned from the Capitol. But usually his isolation was a day at the most before he'd succumb to your comfort. Instead it had been nearly a month of radio silence.
He stopped the way he'd pepper your face with kisses to wake you up and bring you to the kitchen where he'd have made breakfast, telling you mindless stories about his morning swim. Now if he did anything for you it felt robotic, out of necessity, there was no helping you with your hair, having fun picking out your outfits, he was barely around. Never would you have thought you could be such an outcast in your own home, your own relationship.
At first you'd thought you just weren't doing enough, that he needed some extra love to help him open up. Reluctantly you'd fully wake yourself up when you felt him rise for his swim, take up the position of making him breakfast instead. Busying yourself with his favorites until he returned and you put on your best smile when he did, hopeful it would be somewhat successful.
“Good morning!” You greeted and were met with a confused look, a nod. You'd always hated getting up this early yet here you were and he did nothing.
“I have to take a shower." He muttered and was up the stairs. It was a disappointing resolution, but then your hopes had still been high. So you kept making his favorites throughout the next few days, scattering gifts for him throughout the house, writing notes to hide where he might find them, desperate to show him how much you loved him.
“Where are you going?" Your voice startled him and he slowly turned his head towards you.
Finnick's voice was so dry, rigid, “Fishing."
“Oh, let me get my shoes on, I'll come with!" Bright smiles, you reminded yourself when it felt like wavering.
“I'd rather go alone."
“Right." It wanted to falter so bad, “How long are you gonna be gone? I could make you lunch to go or something."
“I'm okay."
You fidgeted with your fingers, “Yeah, okay, well, um, have fun." Then he was gone, without a kiss, even a hug goodbye. Come to think of it there hadn't been any at all for a while, not even in the morning which is something he'd always do. So after a few days failing with those attempts you'd convinced yourself of a different reason.
“Annie, be honest with me, do you think I'm pretty?" The two of you had been out in the garden of Victors Village and she seemed taken aback.
“Honey, of course you're pretty. You're beautiful, what brought this on?" She dropped what she was doing to look at you.
You darted around the specifics, “What about the way I dress, is it too frumpy?"
“No! There's nothing wrong with anything about you." Her voice was so soft and she felt like the only person you could talk to now that Finnick had pushed himself away from you. “What's going on?"
You felt yourself finally crying all the held back tears you'd hid for the moments alone, “What if he's found someone prettier and more exciting?” You sobbed out and Annie hugged you.
"Finnick worships the ground you walk on, he'd never do that.”
"He barely even talks to me anymore, Annie. It's like I don't exist.”
“He's just going through a rough patch, it's not your fault."
Regardless of what Annie said, you disagreed. He must have had someone else, but you couldn't confront him about it. No, if you did then it would become real and he'd leave you for them. There had to be someone else taking on his hardships and loving him the way he'd once let you. So you bought new makeup, new lingerie, new clothes, tried to feel more attractive, more desirable. Yet it didn't seem like he even noticed.
You'd waited for his return all day, he'd left so early you hadn't even seen him. You made dinner praying that he'd see the effort you made, and find you irresistible once again. Of course, this effort seemed to be in vain.
“Welcome home, Finn!" You greeted when he walked through the front door, pained by the sound of your own faux bubbly voice. You put a plate down in front of his usual seat.
“Thanks." He mumbled and you smiled cheerfully. Perhaps you'd been too solemn and he'd prefer someone who exuded more sunshine-like behavior. “How was your day?" His voice was sharp, curt, but it was a conversation nonetheless. Always better than nothing.
“It was good!" You lied through your teeth, there hadn't been a single moment where your brain hadn't been infested with the thought of him pushing you away, him with someone else. It was something you desiped, you preferred to be in the moment. When you had been confident in yours and Finnick's relationship you could immerse yourself in the company of others, enjoy menial tasks with humming and daydreams, but now the isolation haunted your mind. “Annie and I planted some new flowers and cut some that recently finished blooming. I finally changed our vases out." He didn't even glance around, just kept eating. Your Finnick had always made an effort to look around, praise you for anything you did, he took pride in you, now the only thing he took pride in was being able to avoid you.
He curtly nodded his head in response and you felt like you might snap. Especially as the silence persisted, nothing except the sounds of the house and his fork clinking on the plate. You chewed at your bottom lip, leg bouncing up and down waiting for the smallest bit of conversation, but nothing came. Eventually you shot out of your seat, grabbed your plate, which you were sure you wouldn't be able to stomach, and began cleaning up dinner. Hands gripping each dish so hard as if to contain all the rage you'd been repressing.
“I can clean up." Finnick murmured as he rose.
Being lazy was another thing you thought could be a reason. He did so much for you and whatever you had to offer must not have been enough. Yes, he'd always insisted that you should just be his pretty girl that he could look at when he did the tasks, but in secret he must have just wanted you to resist and do more. So you vehemently shook your head, “No, I've got it!" Your voice was strained and several pitches too high to sound natural.
“It's fine, I can do it.” How dare he have the gall to sound annoyed with you.
“I've got it Finnick, just go to bed!" Or whatever the fuck else is he does to be away from you. You regretted how snappy you were, he wanted someone easy going, not how uptight you were being. But god, hate that man for how he looked like a wounded puppy dog. “Sorry." You muttered, only partially genuine. Harshly grabbing a glass to clean, hands gripping around it, so harshly it seemed that when you went to put it to dry, it shattered in your hand. Your reaction was delayed as you stood there in disbelief, you hated your life, “Fuck.”
Then his hand was on your back and you involuntarily jerked at the contact you hadn't felt for so long. “You're bleeding." How the hell was his voice still so stony, a mystery you'd never know the answer too. It sent tingles up your spine the way his hand was on your back, you missed his touch. He led you to the bathroom where he carefully tended to the cuts in your hand. Carefully taking out the pieces of glass and although you occasionally winced, it was like your brain couldn't comprehend the pain over the buzzing about his hand touching yours. But once he bandaged it up the touch was gone and so was he with a, “I'll clean up."
Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. But you hated being angry with him when he was probably going through something, he'd struggled so much and just needed help. Was it really excusable though when it was tearing you apart to be in all of this. You got up and without a second thought walked straight out the front door. Feet guiding you to the comfort of the beach. Of course it invoked memories of all the better times spent with Finnick, but out here at least you had the ocean. It has started to rain and you didn't care. Walking out into the sea, as far as you could touch, and letting the freedom of the waves surround you. And you screamed, at the sky, at the waters, into the night. Trying so desperately to let go of the aggression, so you could keep trying. Inhaling the salt air before you walked back inside, you could do this. Every relationship had trials and tribulations, but you could be stronger, stick together.
As you were walking back, Finnick was jogging towards you, “Are you okay?" There was actual emotion in his voice, you longed to be privileged to it more often.
“Yeah."
“I thought I… " He trailed off, hand running through his hair. The way he looked like he might cry sparked guilt in you, but also a sick pleasure that he actually cared. “You're gonna get sick." Just as quickly his tone returned to being straight-laced.
You didn't care, if you were sick maybe he would take care of you. So you walked inside and he said nothing. You showered and changed, you'd gotten a new nightgown that left little to the imagination. Maybe you could get a rise out of him, get him to touch you more. But he seemed to be fast asleep by the time you left the bathroom, so you slipped into bed beside him. In the past he'd always sleep with his arms around you, but now you slept beside each other rather than with one another. It left you cold, despite the blankets, which were barely there as he'd always been a blanket hog, which you used to tease him for, but was fine because you were attached to him. Now you laid there and felt yourself crying. You cursed yourself for it, not right now, but you couldn't stop. So you covered your mouth with a hand as you sobbed into it.
The next morning you felt him wake, but there was no energy to make breakfast. You were exhausted and it hadn't made him love you again anyways. So you drifted back off until the sound of floorboards creaking when he returned woke you up. You sat up in bed as he entered the bedroom. “Morning, Finn." The smile you worked hard to maintain was back.
“Morning." He mumbled and then his eyes faltered on you. That's when you remembered the nightgown, it was a relief for something to keep his eyes on you. ‘Love me, even if it's just for my body, love me in some way.’ Your brain begged to no avail. “Shower." He slowly said even though he'd very obviously grown hard.
You felt humiliated, completely embarrassed to be dressed the way you were and him to still not want you. It made you want to cry again, but you had to persist. Rising to get dressed until you heard your name. It took you a second to process that he was moaning it, you were right there and he was getting himself off to the thought of you when he could've just had the actual you. That had to be a new type of low. You hadn't even dared to touch yourself no matter how badly you wanted him because you knew nothing you did could match the things he'd made you feel. Yet here he was, so easily jerking off. There was nothing you could do except seethe as you got ready for your day. At least it was your name and not some other girls.
You were in the kitchen when he walked downstairs, “Going to the market." He announced and you got up from your chair.
“I'm coming too." It wasn't a question.
"No, it's okay. I've just got a couple things to grab.”
"So do I, so I'll just come along to grab them. You don't even have to stick by me, I'm just going.” You were exasperated. Honestly you hadn't left the confines of Victors Village for a while, besides when you tried to recall your look, and this would be a good opportunity to see if he was being honest. There was nothing you really had to get, but at least you'd somewhat had his company.
He said nothing but waited as you put on your sandals and then the two of you set off. The silence was deafening as you two walked, your Finnick would always hold your hand, would've taken you from booth to booth and ramble on endlessly, buy anything you glanced at with interest, but now he stood too far away for your hands to even brush by each other. The bustling of the market was a relief and for the first time in a long time you naturally smiled. Although it was jarring how quickly Finnick put on a smile, made conversation with all these people when he hadn't blessed you with the same thing. In fact, it instantly dampened your mood.
“Haven't seen you in so long, missed seeing that pretty smile!" All your favorite vendors gushed and you'd smile, make small talk. Even if everything made you think of Finnick. When was the last time he'd called you pretty? When was the last time he kissed you?
“You look a little sad, are you alright?" And you'd insist you were just feeling a little under the weather. You'd somewhat kept your distance from Finnick until you saw him laughing with a girl in the market. When was the last time he'd laughed with you? Is this what he did, found pretty girls in the market, charmed them, and went back home with them?
You'd slowly approached and showed fake interest in one of her necklaces. “They're real pearls." She said. She was so pretty, stunning. What did she have that you didn't? You hummed, smiling and without a word, Finnick was handing you money.
‘I don't want your money, I want you to pay attention to me.’ You thought and shook your head, “I don't need your money, Finn." The only thing you'd want from him was something he'd pick out because he wanted to give it to you, something he'd always done if you hadn't been there with him. Showing up at home with little treasures to show off to you. He looked at you quizzically, it wasn't like you had any money of your own on you.
“Is this your girlfriend?" The woman asked, her voice was sweet like sugar, you were too gruff, that's what you were missing.
Right now though, your voice was breathy, anxious. “Yeah." The woman must have been able to sense something off because she looked at you with pity. Finnick left the money on the counter by you regardless of what you said and walked off. You sighed.
“I'm sorry, I didn't know."
You gave a sad smile, “It's okay, not your fault." You picked the money up, ready to go find him.
“He's just a guy, even if he's Finnick Odair, don't let him dim your spark." It should've been encouraging, except you knew you loved him too much to ever leave him.
You found him, chatting and smiling as he bought produce. You missed his smile. “Here." You said quietly, handing him his money.
“Where's the necklace?"
“Didn't need it." You didn't care about needing it, you care that he would rather have you buy things for yourself then make you feel valued.
He huffed, like you were frustrating him, annoying him. “Okay, use it to find something else then. You said you weren't going to stick around me." You couldn't stop yourself from physically recoiling from his venom.
“I just came to tell you I was going home." You said weakly, staring at the ground. “Have fun." Your voice cracked slightly and you didn't even bother looking up as you walked home. Immediately settling yourself into bed where you refused to move. Eventually he came home, something clicked onto the dresser table, the sun went down and you stayed put. When he crawled into bed the most movement you made was flipping onto your side to have the protection of your back facing him.
For days it was a cycle of laying in bed, only rising once he left, usually to stand under the burning hot water in the shower until your skin felt raw. Then immediately returning back to bed. He'd return, put something on the dresser, and you'd stay still. Eventually one night he'd come home and sat at your feet, mattress dipping. “We need to talk."
Your hands clamped over your ears, this was it, he was done with you, all that effort for nothing. The anxiety knotted in your stomach, “I'm gonna be sick." You forced yourself up and found yourself throwing up in the toilet, Finnick holding your hair back.
“Hey, it's okay. It's okay, sweet girl." When you were done you said nothing as you brushed your teeth, praying he would leave and forget whatever bad news he was surely bearing. But he didn't, he waited and sat on the bed, waiting for you. Who exited, arms crossed, trying not to cry.
“Please don't break up with me." It was pathetic to beg for but he stood up, looking bewildered.
“No, no, no, I'm not gonna break up with you, sweet girl. I wouldn't even think of it." His hands cradled your face and you melted into them.
Finally you let the tears fall, "Then what are we talking about?”
"I've been so terrible to you, a terrible partner, a terrible person. I…” He took a deep breath in, "I had a rough time in the Capitol, I always do, especially last time though. And I knew you would be able to tell and try to help, but it was easier for me to just block you out so I didn't have to deal with it. Because it hurts to think about." He was crying and it made your heart ache. "And I took you for granted. I didn't try to be there for you, I was selfish and I can't make up for it enough. I will spend the rest of my life making up for it.”
You were both sobbing and he pressed his forehead to yours. His hands were so warm, his touch was so perfect. "I want to help you.”
"I know.” He pulled his forehead away, putting his hands on your shoulders. "I need you to tell me how you felt. Not the sweet way you usually explain things, be honest, so honest.
You shook your head, “No, it's okay. It was just miscommunication."
“No, I think I nearly broke you and everybody else noticed before I did. I need to know your raw feelings, so I can attempt to make it up to you.” He let go of your shoulders and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"I thought you were cheating on me.” You said quietly, anxiously playing with your fingers. He already looked hurt, "Like you found someone else because I wasn't, I don't know, fun enough, pretty enough, hardworking enough. And you didn't want me to do anything with you ever or notice anything I did for you." You took a deep breath, you could feel yourself getting angrily worked up and he could tell.
“If you're angry, be angry." He said and you obeyed.
“And I bought new clothes for you, changed my makeup routine, smiled more, made all your favorites, woke up earlier, tried to take on burdens and you said nothing. Do you know how lonely I was? How bad that made me feel about myself? One day you weren't letting me lift a finger, telling me you loved me, now pretty I was, and the next I thought I'd never hear any of that again, let alone have you touch me. No kisses, or hugs, you didn't even hold me when we slept! And you were so closed off and sometimes mean on top of that and all I wanted was your attention. Until finally I gave up because at least even if you weren't really with me, I still had you, and I didn't want you to leave me just because I found out there was someone else, which is so fucked. And then I thought, maybe at the very least, he’ll have me for my body, I had new lingerie, I tried and you didn't give a fuck. No, you got yourself off in the goddamn bathroom and I was right here!” Your voice had risen and your inhales were sharp between the ranting, "And everytime I hated what you were doing to me, I'd feel bad because what you've been through is so much worse and I should still try to be there for you. So I tried and then you'd be annoyed with me and it was like torture. And I swear to god, if you ever do that again, I'll leave.” A weight lifted off of your chest and he hugged you.
“I'm so sorry, I won't ever do it again, I love you so much, you're so pretty and kind and I need you in my life." You held onto him like he would slip away, kissing away your tears that were falling even though he was also crying. He held you until the sobbing had mostly subsided, “You know I bought you all these stupid gifts when you were laying there, thinking it would make you feel better, but I don't even think you noticed." He chuckled and you turned your head, not wanting to tear away from him. All you could see was the necklace from where you were standing. “Not that it would've done anything after all the time I spent letting the castle crumble around us.
"Thank you.” It was muttered and then he tried to pull out of the hug which made you whine. Trying to cling on forever.
His hand tilted your chin towards him, “You wanna put one of those sets on that you got for me so I can show you how pretty you are and how sorry I am for neglecting my sweet girl?"
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
sorry y'all angst is my default settings. thank you for reading, comments, likes, reblogs, feedbacks is all super appreciated. asks and requests are open, love you all, sorry again 💋
taglist: @wowzabowza69
544 notes · View notes
wildheartsalwaysburn · 5 months
Text
OP men taking care of their SO
Gn!Reader (I tried)
Characters: Trafalgar Law, Eustass Kid, Sanji, Bartolomeo, Corazon
CW: mentions of ED (starving, vomiting, overexercising), bad body image/body dysmorphia, cursing, SH, slight nsfw for Kid
Notes: I'm in a terrible mental state rn, kinda relapsing. OP hyperfixation fixes stuff so I decided to write some HC how they would act when noticing their SO is struggling with an ED.
Trafalgar Law
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he had a bad feeling about your eating habits a while ago
noticing you rush to the bathroom after every meal and "showering" excessively
but didn't mention cuz he knows to leave people alone (he's the same tbh)
it hit him during the monthly physical examination
he listens to your heartbeat and notice it being really low
"y/n, would you step on the scale?" he asks in a cold but also concerned tone
as he notices you getting anxious when standing in front of that thing, he sighs and puts a hand reassuring on your shoulder
"it's ok. I'm here. Just step on it, please." his voice still concerned but warm and soft
he looks at the low numbers in shock and takes you carefully from the scale before you can see the numbers
"y/n-ya. What's wrong?" he'll take your cold hands and sits right in front of you
if you break out in tears, he'll just sit there and hug you tightly, til you calm down by yourself
if you stay cold and stubborn, he'll get annoyed but also takes care of you
either way, you talk a lot and will make a rehab plan, he'll watch over you as much as he can
he won't miss a moment to show you how much he loves and cares for you
"you're the most beautiful soul I know, y/n-ya."
"I know it hurts, but I cannot lose someone I love dearly, again."
"We get through this, ok?"
all in all, he's a doctor and acts like one, but he'll support you whenever needed
Eustass Kid
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he notice during working out together
the last times you'd been skipping meals and even alcohol, working out without him even in the middle of the night
first he thought you'd simply want to get stronger than him and teases you daily
but on that day you've overdone yourself, your body can't take it anymore and you get dizzy and weak all of a sudden, letting the weights fall down with a thud
"y/n?! Fucking seriously?" he first yells at you (rule: never let weights fall down)
you sink on your knees, mumbling sth like you'd be fine
"Fine my ass!" he swears and lifts you up to carry you to his room
"what the hell are you thinking?!" he's clearly pissed
he'll put on his too big warm clothes and coat, still staring at you angrily
forces you to drink water and hot tea, he still stares at you
"so what the fuck is wrong with you, y/n?" angry, annoyed tone
when you start to cry, he's overwhelmed and feels bad not being able to help, so he just sits there and pets your head
when you glance back and pout/get angry you'll get into a fight and storms out throwing the door
just to come back and hug you tightly after finally understanding
his soft side comes out when you tell him you feel weak and ugly and fat
he laughs: "stupid girl/boy! you're the strongest pirate I know! and the sexiest! besides me"
if you don't or don't smile enough (which will be most likely the case), he'll just tower over you and wrap you up in his arms, roaming with his hands over your body and repeat how amazing you are
he'll get overprotective, remind you to eat enough through the day (sometimes forces you to)
He makes you different playlists to lift up your mood
also he'll seek help from Killer from time to time (but won't tell you)
Sanji
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He’ll notice when you stop joining to cook in the kitchen
Notices your rapid weight loss really quickly
Sits down next to you, lights up a ciggy and asks worried what’s wrong
Poor boy thinks it’s his fault
Eventually he’ll tear up and just hug you, telling you how much he loves you
“You can tell me everything, ma chère!”
You instantly felt understood and tell him
He’ll look at you in shock, not understanding how such a beautiful person can think of themselves like that
“But you are the most beautiful woman/man, I know, y/n-swan”
He cups your face and gazes into your eyes before kissing you softly
“We get through this, together. I promise.”
And he’ll make it true. He’s the most supportive boyfriend
Forehead kisses, reassuring soft hugs and touches, always keeping an eye on you
Spa Days, telling you every second how much he loves and adores you, would never force you but beg you to try his food at least
Makes the most delicious looking meals
Reads all about EDs so he won’t accidentally hurt you even more
Will hold you in his arms when you’re freezing or crying
Hides the scale
All in all the perfect man
Bartolomeo
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He’ll notice when following you to the bathroom after dinner
Already had a bad gut feeling about your bruised up and red hands
He holds them all the time so he knows their appearance by heart
“Y/n-chan? Are you ok? I’m here for you! Are you sick?”
Music plays from inside and the tab runs
When you came out after minutes, eyes swollen and red, hands wet and even redder than before you’ll earn a concerned look
“Don’t tell me you’re fine, y/n-chan.”
Weirdly sniffs and notices the smell of vomit
Eyes in shock and starts crying
“No no no no my dearest y/n-chan!! Please don’t tell me it’s true!”
Wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace, crying his eyes out
Overdramatic as fuck
Eventually taking your weak body to a quiet room, cleans your face and gives you something to drink
Will listen to each of your words really carefully to understand
Always pleasing you, always bring you water and tea, will not force but desperately beg to you eat something
Will accompany you to the bathroom any time, watching that you don’t hurt yourself anymore
Around you 24/7, will provoke and beat up everyone just trying to say something bad about you
Literally overprotective l, like a guard dog
Will try to lift your mood by telling stupid jokes and stories, tattle about Law and other “not cool non strawhats”, showing off his collection
Proud as hell every time he’ll make you laugh and forget that illness for a second
Corazon/ Rosinante Donquixote
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He’ll notice when picking you up as usual
“Y/n, you’re so tiny?!”
Shocked at first and lifts you even higher
Can’t believe you’re that light, you’ve always been to him, but now it’s different
Immediately throws you over his shoulder, covering you with his warm feather coat
“We’re going to a doctor, no back talk.”
His tone is stern but also warm and caring
Carries you to different doctors and hospitals, always holding your hand or thigh to show you he’s there
Will yell at anyone who says that can’t treat you
Throws literal tantrums at some doctors for being “incapable”
Will end up trying to fix and heal you himself
Showers you in love and care, eg bringing you water, tea, let’s you borrow his lighter to fidget with (even lend you his cigarettes if you smoke)
Will always smile at you and be more clumsy on purpose to make you laugh again
Will cook for you, whatever you want, burns it a few times by accident
Let’s you wear his clothes, when you feel bad about your body
Or wraps you up in them to get you warm
Will be extremely careful when touching, hugging or lifting you up
Afraid he’ll break you
Will inform himself about EDs to make the best of it
Never leaves your side, towering above or behind you, so no one can hurt you
Even lends you hit hat from time to time if he can’t be around for a moment, so you won’t feel alone
Gets sentimental when you sleep and he drinks, petting your head, sits right next to you talking about how beautiful and amazing you are
"I love you so much! You deserve everything in this world, my heart!"
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cherryc1nnam0n · 6 months
Text
Never let you go, baby | Dark!Ethan Landry x Afab!Reader
Due to many requests here it's part two of Before you go, baby. Enjoy ;)
Part 1
Summary: Your plans have been ruined due to your newfound pregnancy, so you come back to Ethan, just how he planned it
Cw: Dark themes, manipulative!Ethan, kidnapping, blackmailing, baby trapping, pregnancy symptoms, vomiting, pregnancy sickness, stalking, mentions of smut
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It had been 3 months since you had left for college and now you had to come back, due to something you never expected or planned, a baby...
A baby of your best friend, who you had sex with before you left, without being on the pill and while being a virgin
You thought nothing would happen and that you would be okay, nobody gets pregnant on their first time, right?
Wrong
You were very pregnant, growing Ethan Landry's baby, you sometimes wondered how they would look like, would the baby have his nose?
You shook your head coming back into real life, you were close to your stop on the metro, back home after a long travel, your stomach was rumbling
"Y/n are you okay? You've been in there for a very long time" your friend from college asked from outside the stall you were locked in
"I'm okay, just... I think I ate something bad" you said holding your stomach, hunched down on the toilet
"Okay... I'll wait for you outside" she said going away
"Fuck..." You knew it wasn't food
Your stop was announced and you grabbed your bags and walked out, finally stepping home on the familiar place you knew, your stomach rumbled from hunger, all you had eaten was a sandwich and some tea, not very nutricious
"I know little one, we'll get food soon" you spoke to your tummy
You went past a pizza place, your favorite one from when you were in highschool, you were supposed to wait for Ethan so you went into the shop
"Y/n!" The attendant said coming over to the counter when he saw you "How's it been? Didn't you leave for college?" Small town things
"Uh yeah I did but uhm, I need to take back some stuff" you lied
"Oh okay, the usual?" You nodded
"Yes please"
Soon you were served your favorite flavor of pizza, and ate it like it was the best meal of your life, which you felt it was
"Hungry aye?" He asked you and you just giggled
"Had not eaten today"
"Poor thing, you enjoy that" he went to serve someone else
Your phone rang and you saw a text from Ethan
Where r u?
Tom's pizza
K
Not even 5 minutes later he came in to the shop, smiling at you as he sat down next to you
"Glad you're back" he said grabbing your hand
"Yeah..." You didn't feel so happy about it, but he seemed like it "Can we go home?" He nodded
You were about to grab your wallet when he stopped you
"I'll pay honey, it's okay" he said going to pay for you
"Thanks" you said while walking out
He threw his arm around you, your bag on his shoulder
"No need to thank me babe, that's what I'm here for"
You sighed, you couldn't get used to him calling you cute pet names
"Eth..." He hummed "You said- promised, that nothing would change between us but... It did... Right?"
He thought for a moment, or, acted like it, he had planned this whole thing beforehand and you didn't even know
"Well, yeah technically it does, we're gonna be a family now"
"Yeah I know..." You pouted, not ready for this yet "Did you let mom know that I'm here?"
He swallowed "Yeah, she knows, we'll be there soon, we just need to go to my house to pick something and we'll go to your house, okay?"
"Oh, okay" you said softly
Soon you reached his house and he opened the door for you
"Come in, I'll be right back"
You looked around as he left to who knows where, nothing had changed but it certainly felt different
"What the-" you said when you saw a crib mid built up, but suddenly you were grabbed from behind and you became very sleepy
"Shhhh, it'll be okay my love, I'm never letting you go"
Your eyes drooped until you finally fell asleep, darkness taking over...
Some hours later...
You woke up on a bed, a really comfy bed actually, but you were somewhere different
"Wha-?" You looked around to see if you could recognize something
"Good morning my love" Ethan said coming out of the shadows "Sleep good?"
"Ethan, what the fuck are you doing?!" You yelled at him
He just smiled
"Forming a family that's what I'm doing" he sat down on a chair in front of you "Oh you silly Y/n..." He chuckled making you shiver "You think I didn't know this would happen?"
You swallowed heavily "What would happen?"
"You getting pregnant of course" he said standing up "This was all part of my plan, I would get you pregnant and that way you would be mine, forever" he said in front of you, making you back away "Don't be afraid baby, I won't hurt you, I love you too much to do that, never when you're growing my baby" he said touching your tummy "So precious..."
"Ethan... It doesn't have to be this way, please don't lock me away"
"Oh it'll be temporary, until you get used to being my little housewife, only good for breeding and staying at home, being all pretty and full of my babies" he kissed your cheek "I know you'll be good for me baby"
You should be scared, you should be running away, smacking him away, fighting back but... All you did was give in, you loved Ethan and you had always been an outcast, no one had ever asked you out of even had a crush on you, and now this boy, this handsome boy is wanting to keep you all to himself? You couldn't say no to that, could you?
"I'll be good for you Eth..."
"Good girl..."
...........................................................
Requested by:
@ethanslaundry @angel-of-the-eon @yourslxttysurprise
479 notes · View notes
bruh-changbin · 9 months
Text
patience is a virtue
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part 3 to invasion of privacy series
pairing: roommate!heeseung x afab reader
genre: smut, angst, minimal fluff (minors dni)
warnings: unprotected sex (be safe), use of the pull out method (do not do this), piv, tit sucking, nipple play, mutual masturbation, some indecent public acts, mentions of vomit, alcolohol consumption, heeseung is so bad at communicating it is actually physically painful, jake is still annoying and hoon is a film bro oh god
word count: 8.6k
a/n: pls don't gut me ik this took forever but i hope its worth it at least lawl enjoy yourselves (but not too much......) also someone needs to take ellipses away from me. also not proofread
read part 1 and part 2 first or else this won't make a ton of sense
[shithead]: you guys wanna come to the cave to play smash? i got some more of that indica and jay finally cleaned his bong 🙄
[grandfather]: come on dude it wasn’t even that dirty
[cullen tease]:..... no comment
[cullen tease]: but yea i’m down
[grandfather]: what about heeseung?
[shithead]: idk… it’s just been radio silence from him for like 3 days
[cullen tease]: yea what happened to him?
[grandfather]: well the last time we talked to him was right before he hung out with y/n sooo
[shithead]: no way
[shithead]: do you think she fucked him so hard he passed out for three whole days?
[cullen tease]: shut the fuck up jaeyun
[shithead]: i’m just saying!!! if i had a hot roommate like that i would gladly let her destroy me
[cullen tease]: that’s because you’re a man whore
[grandfather]: come on guys cut it out, you know how heeseung tends to get
[grandfather]: emotional
[cullen tease]: that’s the understatement of the year
[shithead]: wait what if…….
[shithead]: she killed him
[grandfather]: you’re an idiot
[shithead]: it’s a possibility! what if it’s like a jennifer’s body type situation
[cullen tease]: hold up, you’ve seen jennifer’s body?
[shithead]: duh… it has megan fox in it
[grandfather]: okay let's not stray from the situation at hand
[shithead]: wait hoon why is it so surprising that i’ve seen jennifer’s body?
[cullen tease]: i just didn’t peg you as the type of guy to enjoy films like that
[shithead]: what the fuck does that mean
[grandfather]: guys
[cullen tease]: dude come on, your favourite movie is grown ups 2
[shithead]: what’s wrong with grown ups 2? 
[cullen tease]: what’s wrong with it is that it’s trash
[shithead]: are you fr? it is a cinematic masterpiece and i don’t appreciate you acting all high and mighty because you’re a fucking film major who likes boring and sad movies like the godfather or whatever
[grandfather]: can you two shut the fuck up? we need to figure out what’s going on with hee
[adult virgin]: i’m not dead
[cullen tease]: heeseung!
[grandfather]: heeseung!
[shithead]: heeseung! you’re alive!!!
[grandfather]: how you doin’ buddy?
[shithead]: yea what went down with you and sexy roomie at the drive-in? i just know the two of you got up to some freaky shit
[grandfather]: jaeyun i swear to god
[adult virgin]: i don’t wanna talk about it
[cullen tease]: uh oh
[shithead]: oh shit
[grandfather]: oh jeez
[shithead]: jay you question why we call you grandfather when you say shit like ‘oh jeez’
[grandfather]: now’s not the time jake
[cullen tease]: come on heeseung, i’m sure it wasn’t that bad
[adult virgin]: i’m never going on a date again
[shithead]: wait i thought you said it wasn’t a date???
[grandfather]: jake you are one text away from getting kicked out of this group chat
[cullen tease]: i say we kick him out now
[adult virgin]: can you guys please stop blowing up my phone? 
[shithead]: no can do my friend
[shithead]: it’s time for an intervention
[adult virgin]: i’m good
[adult virgin]: the last thing i need right now is you guys screaming at me while i’m trying to cope
[shithead]: too late, jay’s already got the car running. i’m bringing weed!
[cullen tease]: i’ll bring the funyuns
[shithead]: see you soon hee!
[adult virgin]: guys fr i just wanna be alone
[adult virgin]: guys?
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bang bang bang!!!
heeseung recoils when he hears his friends banging on his front door a mere 11 minutes after they said they were coming; a mere 11 minutes after he explicitly told them not to. he recoils even more when he hears you open the door for them. 
“oh, hey y/n…” jay does nothing to try to hide his discontent when he sees you open the door and not his heartbroken friend. 
jake, who’s lowkey wanted to bang you since heeseung first moved in with you, pays no mind to his friend's wariness and envelops you in a rib-crushing hug whilst shouting “i haven’t seen you in forever!!!!!”
“hey guys!” you say with a soft smile before patting jake on the shoulder in an attempt to let him know that he’s stealing all of your oxygen, “come in, can i get you anything?”
jay just scoffs, “no thanks y/n, we don’t need anything from you.”
a somewhat puzzled look makes its way onto your face, “ok… well heeseungs in his room if that’s what you’re here for.” you nonchalantly motion down the hall before returning to the kitchen, leaving the three boys alone in the foyer. 
“damn jay, you could’ve been a little nicer. we still don’t know what even went down between them, remember?” sunghoon murmurs while leading the way to heeseungs bedroom. 
“i guess we’re about to find out,” jay holds his breath before tentatively knocking on heeseungs door before opening it and stepping inside.
when heeseung sees his friends open his door and step into his room, he rolls over so his back is facing them. he thought he was very clear that he is not in the mood to talk. nevertheless, the three of them stride into his room like a boy band and close the door behind them. heeseung hopes they pay no mind to the piles and piles of bunched up kleenex littering his room that are all shrivelled up from his tears.  
“heeeyyy buddy!” jay croons to his dishevelled friend as if he’s talking to a puppy or small child. 
“damnnnn hee, that must’ve been some good pussy if it’s got you acting like this!!!” jake exclaims, which earns him an elbow in the ribs. 
“didn’t i tell you guys not to come? i’m trying to latibulate in peace,” heeseung groans, his voice so monotonous and strained it sounds almost robotic.  
“come on, you didn’t seriously think we were gonna listen to you, right?” sunghoon says matter-of-factly, his ebony bangs covering his eyes and making him look eerily mysterious. 
heeseung just sighs. he feels his mattress shift underneath him and looks over to see that jay has taken a seat on the edge of his bed, his eyes full of what appears to be mostly concern, some disgust as he swipes a couple of dirty tissues onto the floor (he tries to cover this up with a crooked smile).
“sooo what happened?” jake breaks the silence and asks the question that’s sitting on the tip of everyone’s tongue. heeseung, now in a seated position, places his head between his knees and does his best to swallow his shame before retelling the event that took place a few days prior. 
“well, we went to the drive-in…” he starts, voice muffled due to his head hanging low, “and at first it was fine, but then… an… intimate scene came on.” 
sunghoon hangs his head at this, seemingly knowing where the story is going. 
heeseung can’t bare to look at his friends faces as he proceeds, his cheeks ablaze with embarrassment as he recounts his unintentional virginity reveal, the two of you freaking it whilst surrounded by other movie goers, and the painful, painful silence that enveloped him for the rest of the night. 
“and then she just… didn’t say anything. why the fuck didn’t she say anything???!!!!” he whines, his tone a complete 180 from what it was when he first spoke to his friends a short 3 minutes ago.
seemingly at a loss for words, jay just rests his hand on his friends shoulder, offering a gentle pat while sunghoon mumbles a quiet but heart-felt ‘beats me’ from where he’s leaning against heeseungs wall. 
“females are so difficult to understand.”
“don’t say females jake, it makes you sound like an incel,” sunghoon suspires, the frayed ends of his hair fluttering in the process, “maybe she just thought you wanted to get it over with? or that you wanted something casual?”
“i don’t do casual.”
“okay, and how the fuck is she supposed to know that?” sunghoon retorts, defending you since you’re unable to defend yourself - jake subtly nods in agreeance. 
“i don’t know! she’s way more emotionally intelligent than all of us combined so i thought that maybe she’d… pick up on it or something.” heeseung feels his energy depleting and he longs to simply curl up under his duvet and sleep the rest of the day away - or maybe the whole week actually. 
“heeseung,” jay sympathizes, “we know you like y/n… but maybe it's just not gonna work out.”
jake interjects, “yea, and if she can’t see what an absolute package you are right now then maybe she never will! it’s her loss really,” he nods enthusiastically while looking at jay and sunghoon, prompting them to do the same - they do.
heeseung, with swollen cheeks and a bruised heart, can only offer a quiet “thanks guys” while wishing for the tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes to go away. he knows that moving on from you, whilst being extremely difficult, is the best thing to do.
after heeseungs feeble thanks, the room falls silent. so silent only that the hum of the a/c is the only detectable sound - that, and the steady inhales and exhales of the 4 boys trapped in heeseungs stuffy bedroom. someone exhales before the shuffling of feet and the creaking of floorboards can be heard. heeseung hardly has any time to react before something (or someone?) is flying through the air and is on track to land directly on top of him.
“DOG PILE ON HEESEUNG!!!” jake shouts while full-on launching himself onto heeseungs body, effectively squashing him into his mattress. the weight of his friend knocks the wind out of him and heeseung barely manages to croak “jaeyun what the fuc-” before the weight is doubled, then tripled as sunghoon and jay follow suit.
it’s hard to tell whose limbs belong to who as heeseungs friends tussle his hair and squeeze his cheeks (and crush his rib cage, but that’s besides the point) in an attempt to get their glum, heartbroken friend to cheer up. and, for the first time in days, a smile appears on heeseungs face.
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order confirmed. you will be updated when your food is en route for delivery.
as if on cue, heeseung’s stomach lets out a cavernous growl. he pats it comfortingly as if to say ‘it’s ok, soon you’ll be filled to the brim with an ice cold baja blast and 2 crunch wrap supremes. just hold on a little longer.’
nothing quite like eating away all of your sorrows.
it’s easy to forget how pivotal a kitchen is in one’s everyday life until it’s stripped away from you like a baby from its mother. ok, maybe not stripped away. more like consciously avoiding it to make sure that you don’t have an awkward run in with your roommate who performed oral sex on you several days ago and is now sending you mixed signals. the thought of having to hold an actual conversation with you makes heeseungs skin crawl. 
he’s been successfully avoiding you for 4 days now, ensuring that he only leaves his room when absolutely necessary - and only doing so when he’s positive that you’re in your room or out of the house. before exiting his bedroom he spends minutes with his ear pressed up to his flimsy bedroom door, making sure the coast is clear before making a break for it.
one may think he’s being extra. just talk to her for crying out loud! but heeseung has managed to convince himself that you think he’s bottom of the barrel scum; the last piece of bread that always gets tossed; the mosquito on your wall that you whack with a rolled up newspaper as soon as you see it.
trash! 
and so, he spends his days rotting away in his bedroom, his mattress now donning a permanent indent of the shape of his body; his trash can overflowing with wrappers from taco bell and mcdonalds; his laptop struggling to keep up with all of the mind-numbing streaming of shitty television he’s been doing. 
one time he gave into his hopeless romantic side and watched the notebook but it made him cry so hard he woke up with a migraine. another time he got an ad for top gun: maverick and he wanted to die. stupid top gun. stupid tom cruise. stupid miles teller with his stupid moustache. now, he sticks to scrolling through tik tok and watching reruns of below deck sailing yacht and survivor. 
he can feel his eyes starting to get heavy when a vibration from his phone jolts him back to reality, scrambling to find the device that he so mindlessly tossed underneath his comforter. his fingers finally come in contact with it, and he peers at the lit-up screen.
your food has been delivered. receipt/tip available.
yes! it feels as if his stomach has been quite literally eating itself for the past half hour, so heeseung leaps up at the prospect of soon having food in his belly. in fact he’s so excited at the idea of his taco bell order waiting for him that the thought of doing his ritualistic check to make sure he won’t have a run-in with you completely slips his mind.
so, when he swings open his door and bolts down the hallway, head filled with nothing but thoughts of chowing down on a tortilla filled with meat, lettuce and cheese, his heart practically falls to his stomach when instead he almost literally runs into you. you, holding a glass of water with your eyes wide like a fawn, taking in heeseungs dishevelled appearance after not seeing him for over half a week. 
shit. 
shitshitshitshitshitshit.
this was not supposed to happen. 
“heeseung!” you say with enthusiasm (and a bit of concern).
it is in this very moment that heeseung fully understands what a deer must feel like when falling in front of the headlights of an oncoming vehicle - frozen.
“uh…. heeey y/n.” his throat feels like it’s about to close. is he having an allergic reaction to you? 
seeing as plan a (get his food and go back to his room while avoiding you all together) has fallen through, he attempts to resort to plan b: grab taco bell bag and run like hell back to the safety of his bedroom. 
unfortunately plan b also falls through, for once he worms himself to the front door and grabs the slightly warm paper bag and drink left on his porch he whips around only to see you standing in front of him, blocking his path to the safe haven that is his musty bedroom, (he’s reminded of admiral ackbar in episode vi of star wars - ‘it’s a trap!!!’).
“wait, can we talk?” your face is one of disquietude, “i feel like you’ve been… avoiding me.”
upon hearing your concerns, heeseung does what he’s best at - playing dumb. 
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
your face quickly changes, brows furrowed and eyes slightly squinted as if to say ‘are you shitting me?’. in a split second it seems as if you’re able to read heeseung like an open book, much to his dismay, before you open your mouth to speak again. 
“did… did what i do at the drive-in make you uncomfortable?”
“no…” more like what you didn’t do - profess your undying love and devotion to him with tears in your eyes while he reassures you that he feels the same way and the two of you ride off into the sunset on a horse and start a new life in venice or kyoto or somewhere romantic and secluded.  
“okay, so then why are you acting so weird?”
“i’m… stressed. sooo stressed. classes are killing me and i have a huge paper due soon.” liar. he’s excelling in all of his classes and doesn’t have anything due for another 5 days.
“oh, well what’s it about? maybe i can help you!” you offer while taking a step towards him. usually his heart would be leaping at the prospect of the two of you having some one on one time even if it is for a class, but right now that’s the last thing he needs. 
“it’s about….. shakespeare.”
“shakespeare? i thought you were an engineering major-”
“it’s an elective. i’m very interested in classical literature.” no he’s not. 
“oh, nice. hey why are you talking so weirdly? you sound like siri when i ask her a question.”
that’s it. he needs to get out of this conversation before he raises any more suspicion. 
“i’m way deep into the academic headspace. speaking of,” he motions towards his bedroom door with his index finger, “i need to get back to work.” more like he needs to wallow in his own self-pity. 
“wait, can we talk more? i still feel like you’re not telling me something,” you say while looking like a kicked puppy, and heeseung tries to not fall into your glassy, pleading gaze.
“it’s fine y/n, i get it.” he thinks you’re the light of his life and you think of him as your loser roommate who was all whiny about being a virgin so you did what you needed to do to shut him up. case closed. 
“get… what?”
heeseung doesn’t respond, doesn’t give you the time of day. he simply exits the kitchen and closes his bedroom door behind him. he spares no final glance behind him because he knows the sight of you standing there with a hurt and perplexed look on your face will have him crawling back to you on his hands and knees. 
instead, he shuffles into bed and tries to focus on whatever he was watching on his laptop prior to the most painful conversation he’s ever had in his entire life, his now tepid crunch wrap sitting in his limp grasp. 
salty crocodile tears start rolling down his cheeks for the nth time this week. 
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“i am gonna get sooo many bitches tonight.”
“you shouldn’t call women bitches jake, that’s rude.”
pre-gaming in the cave before going out is a must. the four guys play a couple rounds of pong and flip cup while jay and jake chug putrid pilsner’s and pabst blue ribbons while sunghoon and heeseung opt for a much more tame rum and coke. 
tonight he’s being dragged to a place he seldom ventures: a club.
heeseung doesn’t really like clubs.
he prefers bars where he can sit and drink and talk to his friends instead of clubs where he has to (attempt to) dance and drink and shout over the blasting music to communicate with anyone. alas, jake was adamant on going to this one particular place downtown where apparently he got with 3 different girls in one night (everyone knows that’s definitely not true, but they continue to humour him). 
furthermore, his friends have decided that the financial blow of cover fees and shots at a club is worth getting heeseung up and out of his frowsty bedroom that has somewhat turned into something you would see on an episode of hoarders, so tonight’s outing will be free (for him at least). 
“okay hee,” jake grabs his friend by the shoulders and shakes him aggressively, as if they’re two football players about to head onto the field, “gimme the game plan for tonight broski.”
“i’m gonna forget about y/n, and i’m gonna find a pretty girl,” heeseung says in the most sportsmanlike manner he can conjure up, “and i’m gonna fu…… i’m gonna make love to her.”
jake simply shakes his head in dismay, “no heeseung, you’re gonna fuck her. got it? go ahead, say it.”
“i’m gonna…” his neck feels like it’s flaring up, “i can’t say it, it feels rude and misogynistic.” 
“dude, girls like to get fucked. they think it’s hot!!! now say ‘fuck’,” jake attests before staring at heeseung expectantly. 
“okay………………. fuck.”
“hell yea bro! fuck!” jay joins in while clapping heeseung on the back in support. 
“yea, fuck!!!”
“FUCK!!!!!!” sunghoon joins as well. 
“FUUUUUUCK!!!” heeseung screams. the liquor in his bloodstream, while not copious, is making him feel fuzzy.
and finally, jake closes it out with, “LETS GO FUCK SHIT UP BROS!!!!!!” before storming out of the door with sunghoon following suit.
jay swings a beefy arm around heeseungs blocky shoulders and drags him along, the two of them soon catching up to hoon and jake who are whooping and hollering about god knows what. in the back of heeseungs mind he wonders what he’s gotten himself into.
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immediately upon arrival heeseung is reminded once again of his detestment for clubs. they’re too loud and ho, and impersonal.
the floors and walls are shaking with some throwback early 2000’s pop song and after about 10 seconds the soles of his shoes are already covered in sticky syrup from spilled drinks. he follows his friends into the sea of people trying to get drunk or trying to get laid or both.
in the midst of the crowd he brushes shoulders with a guy he swears he’s seen before, a tall brute guy with blonde hair tied into a man bun and a red flannel hugging his shoulders (who wears a flannel to a club?), but he can’t quite remember when and where they’ve crossed paths before. 
as sunghoon shoulders his way to the bar to order a round of tequila shots, heeseung stays planted to his spot on the floor, his eyes scanning his surroundings and taking everything in to the best of his abilities considering that purple and blue LED lights are painting everyone and everything within the establishment. 
his eyes make their way from the bar to the dance floor to a section of stand-up tables, where he finds a pretty girl in leather pants and a cheetah print corset top staring right back at him. when their gaze’s connect she flashes him a small smile, which he returns.
“jake,” heeseung smacks his friend’s shoulder, “that girl won’t stop staring at me.”
“see hee! we told you you’d pull someone.”
he smirks, then panics, “what should i do?”
“what’s going on?” sunghoon turns around with four shooters balanced between his spindly ple fingers, each one filled with a menacing clear liquor that will ultimately decide his fate this evening. you’re not you when you’re sober but you’re you when you’re drunk!
jake grabs a shot greedily, like a leprechaun stumbling upon a pot of gold, “some chick is ogling at hee.”
sunghoon’s lip curls upwards, “lets go dawg!” he cheers while passing heeseung a shot as if it's a reward for receiving attention from a woman. 
heeseung stares at the tequila in the glass he’s holding with his thumb and index finger; it stares back at him. in one swift move he downs it, then does the same with jake’s, jay’s, and finally sunghoon’s, who all stare at him in disbelief. he tries his best to not make a sour face, but he can’t hold back the deep cough that leaps out of him as the tequila burns his throat on its way down his esophagus and into his stomach.
“wow, okay.” jay says in astonishment, which prompts him to start laughing; everyone else begins to laugh as well, including heeseung. 
“go talk to her shithead!” jake exclaims while shoving heeseung towards the mystery girl and her friends with much more force than necessary, making him stumble over his own feet much like bambi attempting to walk for the first time. 
when he’s close enough he flashes her a toothy grin, his eyes trained on hers; her pupils look like deep pools of ink in the scarcity of good lighting. she just looks at him, a pretty smile painted on her face that pushes the apples of her cheeks to the sky. 
“hey.”
“hi~”
“i’m heeseung.”
“okay heeseung, wanna dance?”
“uh sure!” he exclaims, albeit maybe a little too much excitement in his inflection. 
the cheetah girl doesn’t say anything, just grabs his hand by the wrist (and thank god his wrist because his palms are embarrassingly sweaty) and drags him in the general direction of the dance floor. before he becomes completely swallowed by the mass of swaying bodies, he catches sunghoon and jay giving him a thumbs up from across the room - jake is too busy making out with someone to do the same. 
heeseung feels the fabric of his shirt sticking to his chest and lower back as he gets mixed up with the plethora of other sweaty bodies, trying to move in a sensual yet confident way that hopefully impresses the pretty girl he’s praying he’ll go home with. with his nose tucked into the crook of her neck he rocks his body against hers to the beat of the music, his pelvis bumping against her ass methodically.
“you’re so cute!” she squeals at his awkward attempt to grind up on her.
dear god. when oh when will he ever the patronizing, dehumanizing, emasculating label of ‘cute’? cute is what you say when you see a nest of baby bunnies, or an elderly couple on a date. heeseung is a grown man, he should be called handsome, statuesque, sexy even!!!
nevertheless, heeseung attempts to not let cheetah girl’s comment sour his mood. she’ll see how manly he really is, he’ll show her. in fact he’ll show her right now!
in this very moment he discovers why alcohol has been gifted the name of liquid courage since before he can even process what he’s doing he’s pulling cheetah girl out of the stuffy crowd of inebriated club goers, dragging her to an empty bathroom stall, and placing his tequila coated lips on hers. 
she immediately reciprocates, because why else would she be giving him bedroom eyes across a crowded club if she didn’t want something along this vein to occur? despite being a virgin (? does getting your dick suck count as a loss of virginity?), he has made out with multiple girls on multiple different occasions prior to this one, so he lets his mouth and tongue and hands act on their own accord. 
it feels as if his brain is swimming inside of his skull, making all of his senses blurred and fuzzy like tv static. he feels a pair of teeth sinking into his bottom teeth and he groans, his eyes squeezing shut impossibly tighter and his fingers digging into cheetah girl’s hips. she emits and airy moan in response, allowing heeseung to slot his tongue against hers - he tastes the vodka mixed with cranberry juice she was drinking when he approached her on the inside of her mouth.
the tip of his nose continuously bumps against hers as he sloppy sucks on her tongue and her teeth, his lips soon detaching to make their way across her jaw and down her neck. there he sinks his canines into her skin, causing her to hiss in both pleasure and pain before exhaling blissfully, her hot breath fanning across heeseung face as he reverts to kissing her on the mouth once again. 
from the dj booth he hears the intro of a song that has his eyes shooting open - baby one more time by britney spears. the song that you alway play when you’re getting ready to go out, the song he chose to play during the car ride to the drive-in. he feels a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about the way you touched him that night, the way you wrapped your hand and lips around his cock without a second thought. his jaw slacks and his hands fall to his sides as his brain starts to move at a million miles per hour.
a mouth that’s not yours is pressed against his while a tongue that’s not yours slips inside and traces his teeth. heeseung can hear his pulse in his ears beating faster than the bass that vibrates the floors and the walls and the ceiling of the club that he now so desperately wishes he wasn’t in. a hand that isn’t yours pops the button of his jeans and slips past the waistband of his underwear. all he can think is how this feels so not… right. none of this is right!
without properly thinking he somewhat shoves the pretty but unknown girl off of him, prompting her to shout “what the fuck asshole??!!?” before storming out of the stall and off to find her friends to undoubtedly complain about what a selfish prick he is. but honestly, he doesn’t care. all he can think about is you and your touch and everything you encompass. 
with a considerable amount of shoving heeseung makes his way outside, paying no mind to the select people that shoot him dirty looks after getting elbowed in the side. too inebriated to consider ordering an uber or calling a cab, he begins the 20 minute trek back to his apartment where he’s praying that you’re still residing, likely settled in your bed reading a book or watching season 2 of the bear. the cool night air stings his lungs as he trips and stumbles on the concrete with every other step he takes on his way back home, his way back to you. 
being outside does absolutely nothing to sober heeseung up (especially considering that he downed 4 tequila shots not so long ago), and when the familiar front door of your shared rental house comes into view he practically runs to it, swinging it open and letting it bang against the wall before calling your name and jogging down the hallway. his shoes clomp against the hardwood floors as he approaches your door, the soft yellow glow emanating from underneath it the only source of light in the dark hallway.  
“y/n?” heeseung barges into your bedroom, almost ripping your door off of its hinges in the process. once inside he sees you perched on your bed, your sheets pulled over your bent knees and a book with a splotchy blue cover in your grasp. 
“what are you doing?” he questions you breathlessly. 
your glance shifts from heeseung to the open book in your hands then back to heeseung, “reading?”
“oh, duh,” he pretends to facepalm while chuckling, your eyes still trained on his with a glint of scepticism. the gravity of his situation starts to dawn on him and he braces himself against your doorframe in an attempt to get the floor to stop spinning.
you furrow your brows and stare at heeseung pointedly, “are you drunk?”
“a little,” he hiccups, “actually a lot, but that’s besides the point.” finally he feels the courage he had 20 minutes ago at the club surge through him once more and he stumbles into your room, stopping at the corner of your bed and gazing down on you like you’re an ant.
“i have to tell you something.”
“okay.”
silence. 
“...what do you wanna tell me?”
“oh, right.” come on heeseung, it’s now or never. he decides to take a seat on the edge of your bed so he’s looking directly at you, and he picks at the holes in his jeans as he ponders how to start. 
“uhh… i really like the way you fold the dish towels in the kitchen.”
a look of shock makes its way onto your face - you definitely weren’t expecting him to say that of all things. before you can utter a word, a sound even, heeseung starts to ramble.
“and you smell really nice. like, really nice. and i think you’re really pretty, e-even when you’re angry, like when i wake you up to ask for a ride to campus when i’ve missed the bus. and i like how you chew on the inside of your cheek when you’re focused, and how you ruffle my hair when i say something stupid… which is a lot.”
he pauses briefly to catch his breath, then continues on, “and i don’t let anyone eat my lucky charms except for you, n-not even my friends when they spend the night, because i know they remind you of being a kid and that you like to pick out the clover shaped marshmallows. and i like the way you draw smiley faces in the condensation on the mirror in the bathroom after you shower, and the way you exclusively listen to stevie nicks when you’re cleaning, an-”
“heeseung,” you interject, causing him to draw in a shaky inhale, “what are you trying to say?”
“what i’m trying to say is that i lo-” nope!!!!!! waaay too soon. luckily even drunk heeseung can recognize the damage an actual profession of love would cause. thank god he caught himself. 
“i really really like you, ok? and i feel like you just see me as a-” here come the waterworks, “as a looooserrrrrrrr,” try as he might, heeseung can’t stop the pathetic, drunken sobs that escape his trembling lips. 
“oh god, heeseung-” your feeble voice does little to drown out the wails emanating from the drunken boy perched on the corner of your bed, his hair a mess and his cheeks flushed pink; you’re unsure if it’s from the alcohol or the crying. 
half a week of pent up confusion and sadness and heartbreak escapes him in the form of reverberating howls, his shoulders shaking even after you place a comforting hand on his back in an attempt to calm him down. 
“and when you did… that at the drive-in, i thought that maybe meant that you liked me too.” he sniffles before wiping his nose with his sleeve; you reach over to your night stand and hand him a tissue. 
“oh jesus, i’m so sorry hee i didn’t mean to confuse you i just-” you take a second to collect your thoughts, your thumb still caressing heeseungs backs through his shirt, “the way you were talking just made it seem like you just wanted to get it over with,” your hand doesn’t leave his back, “like, no strings attached, you know?”
“no… not no strings attached. i want strings attached. i want exclusivity. i want you.” his tears roll down to his mouth and he can taste the salt on his tongue. 
“heeseung…” you all but whisper, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. 
he wants to say more, only when he tries to formulate his thoughts into words, he finds himself yaking all over your floor before passing out.
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pain. 
the first thing heeseung feels when he wakes up is pain.
not mental pain, which is what he’s felt for the past 5 days, but physical pain. an aching headache that shoots up from the base of his skull and wraps around to his forehead and flares at the back of his eyeballs. it’s settled, he is never touching alcohol ever again.
an acidic burn tickles his throat, and soon the memories from last night come flooding back to him. the cheetah girl at the club, the solemn and unsobering walk home, the drunken confession, and lastly, the puking. 
he cracks his eyes open and immediately recoils, for the golden glow of the morning sun increases the aching in his head and behind his eyes tenfold. jesus, what time is it? a couple of blinks help his eyes adjust to the light, and he becomes aware of the figure sitting to the right of him. in a split second he soon realizes that he’s in your room, tucked under your sheets, inhaling the scent of your shampoo that’s become permanently woven into your pillows. 
oh? oh. oh god. did you two….?
heeseungs restlessness draws your attention, and soon you're gazing down at him with a soft expression that makes heeseung feel all soft like honey. 
“hey sleeping beauty.” you tease, your eyes still puffy with traces of sleep and the book you were reading before he oh so rudely interrupted you last night is in your hands again - a well-loved copy of murakami’s kafka on the shore, which you place on your nightstand for the sake of passing heeseung a tall glass of water and an advil. he downs both immediately. 
“please tell me that the image i have of myself puking on your floor is something my brain conjured up while i was sleeping and not something that actually happened,” he rasps, throat stinging and nose stuffy.
“hate to break it to ya buddy,” you tsk while nodding sympathetically, “but that actually happened.”
heeseung shoves his head into your pillow, his thumbs pressing against his closed eyelids both in an attempt to relieve the ache and as an act of shame. he groans aloud, “oh god y/n i am so sorry, i-”
“heeseung it’s o-kay,” you punctuate, “shit happens.” 
still unable to look at you, heeseung just nods, the friction from your silk pillowcase making a couple strands of his hair stand on end. 
“besides, it was mostly clear,” you look off into the distance, “mostly.”
a second of quiet, and then you ask him, “how much of last night do you remember?”
he rolls onto his back, index and middle fingers of his right hand pinching the bridge of his nose, “most of it, it guess. i remember going out with my friends, stumbling back here and… telling you that i like you…”
“actually i believe you said that you really, really like me.” your sleep swollen lips curve into a teasing smirk. 
“fuck off,” he jeers while playfully pushing your shoulder. 
“woah!!! lee heeseung drops f-bombs now eh?”
he just chuckles, his hands moving to pass through his frazzled hair. as he shifts under your poofy comforter he realizes he’s still donning the clothes he wore last night - spare for his shoes, which he’s assuming you took off of him and likely put them on the shoe rack by the front door. 
a silence settles over the two of you, but this time it’s comfortable. it’s not estranged or pointed, but hospitable. 
“i didn’t know you felt that way about me.” you state. it’s not a positive or negative statement, simply neutral; an admission. 
heeseung doesn’t say anything, just gazes at your side profile and admires the way your eyelashes grace the tops of your cheeks, the way your top lip converges at your cupids bow, the way your cheekbones are dotted with blemishes. 
“can i kiss you?” he asks, “please?” 
a plea.
and, in your secluded bedroom on this bright saturday morning, you answer him by pressing your lips to his. 
it’s strange, since heeseung can’t seem to discern any actual sensations, he just feels incredibly warm. warm and soft, like taffy that’s been left out and has melted in the glow of the sun. his heart is flipping inside of the cage that is his ribs as he pushes his pursed lips against yours in reciprocation.
you detach your lips from his for a second only to reattach them moments later in a deeper, more passionate kiss that heeseung exhales into, the tip of his nose gracing yours as he tilts his head to sink impossibly deeper into you. his curious hands make their way up to the back of your neck where he grabs ahold and pulls you against him so your torso is on top of his own, your heart beating against his. 
underneath the confines of your comforter heeseung feels your leg glide against his own, the sheets crinkling and tangling in the process. his mouth continues to dance against yours with his tongue experimentally poking out every so often before he pushes it past your lips and into your hot mouth. a whimper makes its way out of you and heeseung swears that if he were standing his knees surely would’ve given out from underneath him. 
“heeseung…” you whine before nipping at his cushiony bottom lip, sucking at it to soothe the sting - and to make heeseung swoon even more. ugh! he just can’t get enough of you and your sickeningly sweet demeanour.
as you continue to kiss and suck at heeseung pouty lips and perfect teeth you become more and more restless, your hands moving to smooth over the expanse of his chest and the tops of his shoulders where they come to rest. the palms of your hands are soft and delicate and they send a shiver down heeseung’s spine as he feels them grace his cloth covered skin that’s slightly damp with sweat. 
with (what seems like) some reluctance, you remove your mouth from heeseung’s with a wet smack. when he cracks open his eyes he finds you beholding him wistfully, your pupils dilated and lips swollen and glossy with lip gloss of his own making. 
“can you show me how you get yourself off?”
your voice is deep and slow; sultry, like a glass of oxblood coloured cabernet sauvignon. his breath hitches in his throat once he fully registers the request you just made. show you? on his own??? he does his best to swallow his nerves. 
“sure,” heeseung agrees bashfully, “if you can do the same.”
“okay.” you smile before tossing the blankets off of both of your hot bodies. a much welcomed gust of cool air causes heeseung to erupt in a fit of goosebumps (although he’s not quite sure if that’s from the change in temperature or his current predicament). 
unsure of what to do next, he waits to follow your lead. with hungry eyes he watches you pull of your pyjama bottoms before tossing them in a heap on the floor, leaving you in a pair of plain light blue panties and an oversized band tee. in somewhat of a rush heeseung fumbles with the hardware of his jeans, struggling to pop the button and tug down the copper zipper at the fault of his nerves. eventually he does so successfully, discarding his bottoms before becoming stuck in limbo.
with deft fingers you begin to drag the hem of your shirt upwards, exposing more and more of your torso before stopping once you reach your sternum. the soft underside of your breasts are just barely peeking out from underneath the fabric. 
heeseung watches with wide eyes and a painfully hard cock as you slip your hand underneath the waistband of your panties in one swift motion, a motion that he’s sure you’ve done hundreds of times before this. his brain swims as he thinks about all of the times you’ve touched yourself in this very room, in this very bed. 
your knuckles strain and push at the fabric of your underwear as you play with yourself, your chest rising and falling steadily but with slightly more erraticism than before. heeseung follows in your footsteps and reaches to the thick elastic waistband of his boxers, hesitating for only a second before pushing the garment down to his hips, allowing his hard cock to slap against his tense stomach. he spits in his palm before wrapping his hand around the base of his shaft, giving it a few tentative strokes and watching the way his stomach spasms. 
“i don’t think i said this before,” you purr, “but you have a really nice cock heeseung.”
your admittance has heeseung overheating, his cheeks and chest flushing a pretty shade of pink. his stomach twists and churns and he slowly starts to jerk himself knowing that you’re watching his every move, like a vulture stalking its pretty. to distract himself from his own ministrations heeseung looks at you, his gaze travelling from your hand in your panties to your chest to your face where he finds you staring back at him, causing him to quickly look away out of sheer embarrassment of being caught. 
“what do you think about when you touch yourself?”
you. obviously. 
but he doesn’t say that. 
he just remains quiet, his eyes darting from place to place  but of course, no answer does not satiate your appetite for knowledge, so you push further. 
“do you think about me?”
yes. obviously.
he nods steadily in response before realizing that that simply isn’t a satisfactory response. 
“always.” his voice is small yet unwavering. 
you smile at his admittance, eyes hazy with desire and your cheek squished against your pillow due to your head being turned towards him. breathy moans and pleas tumble past your lips as you finger yourself, your hips rolling into the heel of your palm. slick wet sounds can be heard both from you and from heeseung, whose precum is aiding in his ability to pump his dick at an increasing speed. the burning pit in his stomach slowly grows and grows and he moans aloud, jolting slightly when the outside of your thigh brushes against his own.
as he feels himself approaching the cusp of an orgasm, the familiar sensation looming closer and closer like a moth drawn to a flame, your hand grabs his arm prompting him to stop, your middle and ring fingers wet against where they’re wrapped around his forearm. 
in the next second you’re sitting up, hands grasping the hem of your shirt once again only to fully remove it this time, exposing your back back and tits to him rendering him speechless. you discard your panties as well, leaving you completely bare as you move to straddle heeseung’s tense thighs. all he does is look at you in astonishment, mouth slightly agape. 
without thinking heeseung reaches forward and envelops both of your breasts with his big hands, his palms rubbing against your hardened nipples while his fingers gently dig into the soft flesh. 
“your tits are perfect,” he rasps, hand moving in circular motions to massage your chest.
“really?” your eyes light up at the compliment.
he nods, his adams apple bobbing in his throat as he remains enamoured with your figure. your fingers tickle his sides before grasping at his shirt, tugging at it in a way that tells him you want it off; he sits up and removes the garment before you place a palm on his chest and push him back onto your mattress, the springs making a slight squeak at the force. your eyes rake over heeseung’s bare chest as he lays before you, a shaky exhale leaving him every few seconds or so.
“you’re so handsome lee heeseung.” you compliment. 
“even when i’m hungover?” 
“even when you’re hungover.”
you crawl over his body, just a little bit, so your hips are unbearably close to his aching cock, the tip an enraged red spilling pearly white beads of precum. heeseung tries his best to not shudder when you wrap your hands around his shaft, moving yourself to be perched directly above his dick. you drag his tip through your folds to be a tease, only when the boy beneath you begins to squirm do you line his cock up wit your dripping hole before sinking down on it ever so slowly, gauging heeseungs reaction with scrutiny. he looks quite pretty, with his eyes screwed shut and bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his forehead dotted with beads of sweat. once he’s fully inside of you you remain stagnant, hips flush against his own. 
heeseung feels like he’s gone limp, his limbs turned to mush and inoperable. he keeps his eyes tightly shut as he becomes accustomed to the feeling of being inside of you, for he knows if he sees you sitting on top of him he’s going to have heart palpitations. 
only once heeseungs face slowly starts to relax, his eyelids slowly fluttering open, do you begin to move, gyrating your pelvis against his at a leisurely pace. heeseung can’t help but whimper when he feels you grinding on top of him, his cock throbbing and sensitive inside the warmth of your pussy. 
your hands rest on heeseungs chest to help you stabilize yourself, your nails digging into the soft skin covering his pecs and leaving behind deep red marks. heeseungs hands move to grab at your hips and you arch your back in response, teasingly shoving your tits in his face - he takes this as an invitation and pulls you closer to him so he can wrap hips lips around your left nipple, sucking on it while palming the other. 
“oh my-, heeseung,” you moan as heeseung continues to play with your breasts eagerly. in response you increase the pace at which your hips are moving at, grinding against him in a fluid, persistent manner that makes heeseungs vision grow warped fuzzy. once again he feels the slow burn of an orgasm take flight in his stomach, slowly ebbing outwards as you work him towards his climax. 
the moans and groans leaving him come out muffled due to his mouth still being wrapped around your breast, only detaching once the need for oxygen becomes stronger and stronger and his heart beats faster and faster. your fingers feel hot against his skin as you fuck him raw, the sensation of your cunt constricting around his cock feeling so other worldly that heeseung believes that you and your pussy and your body the only things tethering to him reality. 
his name tumbles past your lips in the form of needy whines as your movements slowly become more and more erratic, your eyes rolled back into your skull as you chase your high. all heeseung can do is lie underneath you, his fingers back on your hips while the tantalizing promise of a mind blowing orgasm renders him almost immobile. sweat rolls off of his brows as he pants and groans, hips feebly bucking upwards in an attempt to make him cum faster.
“i’m so close y/n i-” is all he can manage to whimper to let you know that he’s about to finish, about to erupt into a thousand hot white stars. you moan an ‘i know’ in response before reaching down to play with your clit, your cunt tightening around heeseungs cock with each and every flick of your fingers. 
you orgasm with a desperate whine, brows furrowed and eyes shut as you keel over heeseung. your pussy flutters around his cock and you manage to pull yourself off of him right before he cums with a cry of your name, spilling his hot sticky seed all over the expanse of his stomach, which twitches and spasms every so often. 
the two of you lay side by side as you wait for your heart rates to lower, for your breathing to steady, for the aching in your lower abdomen to cease. there’s a slight ringing in heeseungs ears which slowly subsides overtime, allowing him to listen to the way your pants morph into heavy breathing. in his peripherals he can see your chest, see the way your eyes are heavy with pleasure. you move your hand just enough so that your knuckles trace across the back of heeseungs hand. 
the room comes to a standstill, with the sun peeking through the slats in your shades falling across his tainted stomach that rises and falls with each erratic inhale and exhale he takes. you shift to lie on your side so you’re facing heeseung, allowing your fingertips to dance over his clavicle, his neck, his jawline. 
bliss. 
euphoria.
a happy ending.
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a/n: and to think some of y'all didn't believe that i was gonna give you a happy ending.......... what do you have to say for yourselves now huh? HUH??????? here's you're happy ending i'm gonna go cry now bc i'm weirdly emotionally attached to this series.
patience is a virtue taglist: @hello-stranger24 @jainandan @yohanabanana @iamliacamila @nyanggk @chansmaze @beomgyusonlywife
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mobbu-min · 1 year
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☆ bragging rights ☆
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request: What if the dorm leaders had an s/o fawning over them and bragging about them to the first years and Grim?
a/n: They would all get tired of it quickly, well maybe not Sebek or Ortho. But Epel and Ace? They're def tried to tape your mouth shut. I ended up formatting this differently, but I like it so…yeah. Also each dorm leader will be paired with their corresponding first year! Just because it makes it easier for me lol Grim will be filling in for the dorms that don’t have first years! But he also got his own part bc he’s my little meow meow
!tw! cursing, readers a major simp
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Grim <3
⋆ Being the one that’s with you the most, Grim has learned to tune you out when you go on a rant on how amazing and caring your favorite housewarden is. He learned first hand how sad or irritated you get when he tells you to be quiet. And he wasn’t about to face that again.
⋆ Grim’s a little jealous about how much you brag about them. He’s all like, ‘that should be me!’ but he quickly gets over it because you tend to give him a lot of affection while you go on your rants.
⋆ Does he gag every time you fawn over them? Yes, because the thought of his henchman having goo-goo eyes for them makes him sick.
⋆ The only reason why Grim hasn’t vomited on their shoes is because they tend to give you stuff, which translates to Grim getting stuff too. (his reasoning is that you’re both one student) So he is there on dates and hangouts a whole lot.
Riddle + Ace/Deuce <3
⋆ Ace is so so so sick of it. Like Grim, seeing you be all mushy with his dorm leader makes him want to pluck his eyes out. He’s all like, ‘C’mon! Riddle? That short fu-’ and Deuce has to stop him before you could jump him. Ace is truly confused in what you see in him. And he swears his ears bleed whenever you start on your rant about Riddle. He didn’t think anyone could be this down bad for someone, besides Sebek.
⋆ Deuce finds it admirable about how much you care about Riddle. Sure he does get a little annoyed when you decide to start talking about Riddle when you said you’d help him study or when you immediately dash towards Riddle when you’re supposed to be helping him with your alchemy assignment, but other than that he doesn’t really have anything against it. Just please, don’t go running off when you’re doing a very time-sensitive potion again. He does not want to deal with a giant radish baby again.
⋆ Riddle goes incredibly bashful when he overhears Ace complaining about your crush on him. He immediately wants to rush to you and confirm the truth, because he would be lying if he said he didn’t have a crush on you. It’s literally the best news in his life. Knowing that you liked him enough to blabber anyone’s ear off makes him blush. Boy is smitten.
Leona + Jack <3
⋆ He literally just tunes you out. Jack is too busy to pay any attention to your rambling, so he’ll let you trail behind him, but beware, he is not processing anything. At first, Jack’s all like, yeah Leona is super cool and wow you sure are observant, then ‘omg they just want to fuck him.’ he actualy does sit you down one day and says as much as he loves to see you happy, please stfu about Leona. But hey, at least his cacti are thriving.
⋆ Smug fucker. Super duper smug. There’s nothing stopping him from going up to you and demanding you never to stop. On any other occasion, Leona would have told them to stop being a suck up, but you’re different <3. Nobody really notices but like Ruggie and Rook(bc he’s a creep, jk i love my babygirl) but Leona has gotten significantly happier and sorta, kinda nicer(?) All Ruggie knows is that if Leona's in a bad mood is to get you asap!
Azul + Grim <3
⋆ Grim doesn’t get it. Like it’s Azul. The guy that tried to take Ramshackle away from you both? The guy that practically made you temporarily homeless!? Did you wack your head, henchman!? Grim swears he loses his already lacking brain cells whenever you start on your midnight rambles about Azul. The only thing that makes up for it is the fact you take him to the Monstro Lounge once a week to gaze lovingly at Azul. The food he loves. Azul? Grim thinks you should reconsider.
⋆ Dude deadass faints like a maiden seeing an ankle for the first time. He deadass can’t comprehend the fact that you talk so highly of him. Because he was sure that you hated him. Don’t get Azul wrong, he’s delighted to know that you want him the same way, but jeez, give his heart a break. His mind is doing loopies at all the ways he can get you to go on a date with him that doesn’t involve him turning into a big stuttering mess.
Kalim + Grim <3
⋆ This one? This one is one Grim can get behind. Sure Kalim is full of energy and always wants to feed Grim dry ass cookies. But do you want to know what Kalim has? Yeah, Kalim has money and he’s more than willing to spend it on you, and by extension, Grim. So he doesn’t complain much when you rant his fiery ear off everyday. Because if his plan goes right, then…well, let’s just say the first thing on Grim’s spending list is a month’s worth of premium tuna.
⋆ Kalim has to thank the Seven and Grim! Because if it wasn’t for them, he wouldn't have overheard you saying how great he was and how much you liked him! Boy is over the moon! Instantly he’s by your side smiling so brightly it puts the sun to shame and happily exclaims he loves you too! Que, him planning your wedding- Anyways, Kalim returns your enthusiasm ten fold! Like, how could he not?! You’re so perfect in Kalim’s eyes that it would be wrong not to talk about you 24/7! Poor Jamil, Kalim already was talking about you so much, but after that day, it doubled. He really does consider faking his death and going to live in the countryside.
Vil + Epel <3
⋆ Epel wants to strangle you. Like legit wishes that both sides of your pillow are warm at night and more. He can’t wrap his mind around that fact that you! Want VIL FUCKIN SCHOENHEIT! His WORST enemy! Boy feels hella betrayed. He thought you didn’t like him, only to find out you want to fu-ahem, Epel shouldn't say that outloud, Meemaw rules and all. Epel wonders if it’s something in the water you city folk drink, because he sure as hell gonna stay FAR away from that.
⋆ Your title goes from ‘Potato’ to ‘HIS sweet potato’ real fast. Because of course, you would brag and rant about him at any moment and to anyone. Vil overhears and all like ‘Oh, no please excuse my snooping…but please don’t let me stop you~’ Vil won’t tell you but when you were spending an ungodly amount of time with Rook, he was a little peeved(aka worried) But he’s quick to find out that you and Rook have just been building a shrine in the school's bathroom (just girly tings~) he is incredibly disturbed, but hey, at least Neige doesn’t have this dedicated fanbase.
Idia + Ortho <3
⋆ Sweet baby is so happy to hear you talk so highly and lovingly about his older brother! Orthos literally this \^o^/. He’s bringing you in a big hug and spilling all his brother’s secrets! He’s heard (seen all of Idia’s shoujo anime) and learned that miscommunication is a big leading factor to couples not getting together! And like hell, is he letting this opportunity slip by! Number one wing man, fr!
⋆ You know when cats get scared, they’ll jump up? Yeah, well that’s Idia when you come bursting in screaming ‘I LOVE YOU TOO, MY BABYGIRL !’ Everyone thinks a murder is happening but, it’s just Idia screaming. He knew that you were always talking about him and he was planning a super macho way to ask you out, it's just that his confidence he ordered off of amazon hadn’t gotten here in time. He’s both annoyed and grateful that Ortho spilled his secret, because he sure as hell wouldn’t have. Now all that’s left is to make sure to calm his red face before you notice.
Malleus + Sebek <3
⋆ Sebek at first is all like ‘WHAT'S YOUR MOTIVE, HUMAN!’ but after hearing the pure adoration in your voice, he’s immediately all like ‘I’VE MISS JUDGE YOU! YOU AREN’T AS AIRHEADED AS YOU APPEAR TO BE!!!’ (you can either choose to take it as a compliment or not-) Immediately, Sebek is inviting to his tri-weekly meetings to talk about the oh so great, waka-sama. Literally it’s just him, with a powerpoint about Malleus, and Silver, who’s slumped over in a corner. The first thing on his list is to give you the club member uniform, a white tee with malleus’s face and in comic sans, ‘Waka-Sama Forever!’ Sebek happily informs you, Lilia made it. Sebek is actually so happy to talk about Malleus with you, though he suspects after a few, ahem-unholy, comments from you, that your view on Mal is not the same as his. Nonetheless! Sebek happily listens to your rants.
⋆ Though, beware everyone else’s eardrum because you both don’t shut up. (silver is unsurprisingly not disturbed)
⋆ How do I put this?….Malleus is so fucking smug. So much smugger than anyone else on this list. Like his favorite human, no HIS Human, is talking so fondly about him, looking at him like he’s the sun and moon and the universe. Like how can he not be smug about it, but most of all, how can he not fall impossibly deeper in love with you? Like you might not know this, but Malleus talks about you the same way you talk about him. Him knowing this just causes him to feel like his crush on you can be a reality. You and him can be the future
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autumnnnsun · 4 months
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Now that I’ve finished reading Hortus de Escapismo and Executor’s record, I really gotta ramble about Executor for a second and kinda talk abt how Arknights handles his lack of empathy trait that I really enjoy. This isn’t a proper analysis or anything just my thoughts I wanna vomit for a sec.
So it’s implied in Executor’s record that he just, wasn’t born having empathy despite being a sankta. Or at least he just naturally doesn’t have the same levels of understanding of emotion as other sankta. The part that I really like about it is how Executor’s Record and story in general doesn’t portray that as a necessarily bad thing.
His lack of empathy allows him to think in a way that is a lot more unique than other sankta. When his partner in his record story told him to sacrifice him, he still brought his body back to Laterano. One of the reason being because of a specific sentence in the will they were enacting (“I hope all Laterans return back to their home.” Smth that most people would assume is just smth the will writer wrote for some extra literary flare) but also because he disregarded his partner’s feelings. His lack of empathy is the reason why he did something good and that is very interesting to me especially when most people tend to demonise having low/no empathy.
I also just really like how in his record story, it’s emphasised that he knows what emotions ARE. He has developed a system with his parents to recognise and visualise emotions by drawing lines that represent them. He knows what it is, he can recognise it to a level where he can think of the next best course of action when confronted with it, he just doesn’t put much importance on it nor does he bother with understanding it for the most part. Especially if it’s something that will get in the way of his job. And I REALLY like that cus it reminds me of how people irl that have low empathy will develop systems to work around it and still be kind.
I know a lot of us joke about Executor being autistic and that’s funny and I like the jokes as much as everyone else, but low or no empathy is a trait of other mental disorders and disabilities and even as someone that hasn’t been diagnosed with anything yet it still feels kinda nice to see low empathy being portrayed in a way that isn’t villanious.
In fact, Executor having low empathy kinda makes him the best person in the room sometimes especially in Hortus de Escapismo. The part where he does a warning shot at Oren and Lemuen and essentially goes “Can ya’ll STOP I’m trying to do my JOB.” And essentially manages to stop a massacre because of it is so funny but also so fucking hype bruv. I like how in the end of the event when Executor was starting to ask more questions and have more doubts and was starting to let emotions affect his actions a bit more, it isn’t framed as like “Oh mah gerd, he’s learning empathy and being more hooman!”
Instead he’s asking questions and seeking to find solutions to them in his own unique way. Asking around and adding more variables to his thought process like a computer would (which has some implications that gets my lore brain churning but hrghrghrgh)
Top it all of with the fact that he is specifically a character that is born and raised in a society that values empathy. Being able to feel other people’s emotions is what makes you a sankta. And Executor, is one of the better sanktas because he doesn’t follow that rule.
God I love Executor, go son, thrive.
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wambsgansshoelaces · 3 months
Note
hiii could you maybe write something about a first kiss with roman roy? I feel like he’s so unpredictable that it could be fluffy or angsty 💖
Vending Machine Oreos
Roman Roy x Reader
oneshot
anon I’m so so sorry this is so late!!! I hope I delivered though :( please let me know what you think and enjoy x
honestly I’m kind of worried because I’ve been struggling with life and my writing’s been suffering because of it so I’m really sorry if this seems unrealistic or rushed or just bad. I hope you guys like it anyway!!!
Word Count: 2.215k
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“Roman!”
“What?” he snaps back, not bothering to look up from his desk.
“You’re going to make us fucking late! Come on!”
“It’s not even- oh, fuck, you’re right.” He abruptly gets to his feet, slamming the lid of his laptop shut, and hurries out of his office, you not far behind.
Working at Waystar was certainly an experience. You like to say Logan Roy made you see red, and it’s a sentiment you know Roman shares. When you stop and think about it, you suppose that you’re making way too much money to actually care. Besides, Roman Roy is easy on the eyes. It’s not like all of him was so horrible. If you were honest with yourself, you never really thought he was such a bad person. He was kind to you, in his own neurotic way, and made sure all of his work was done on time. You actually find him kind of endearing, and you both happen to get along extremely well.
“Is the car outside?” he asks, pulling his coat on.
“It has been for ten minutes,” you say back, ushering him into an opening elevator.
“Why do we have to do this again?” he mutters to you in question, glancing at you sideways as you slide into your seat next to him in the car.
“Because your dad wants us to mingle,” you say bitterly. “Some new hotshot piece of shit to impress.” He sighs, turning to stare out the window and watch as New York blurs by.
The event building is large and lavish, the epitome of modern day architecture. The entire thing is floor-to-ceiling windows, and the interior does not let you down. This is the corporate version of a party. You’d spend the night milling about, pretending to listen to half-assed pitches while Roman fucked with all of the corporate jockies he hated. Logan had asked you in person for you and Roman to go. Something about the mind games he was playing with rivals and the fact that a Roy needed to be present at these kinds of things.
You and Roman get your coats checked, and you’re guided into the ballroom. The room is already bustling and half-drunk, and you mentally steel yourself for the next few hours. The two of you get roped into a mind-numbing conversation about stocks and bitcoin, so much so that when you look over at Roman, he’s staring up at the vaulted ceiling.
“And what about you?”
You don’t realize the question was aimed at you until after it hangs for a few moments.
“Sorry?” you ask, returning your attention to your peanut gallery of what’s only men. You notice Roman doing the same.
“We were talking about the whore houses,” an older one chortles, immediately causing your face to sour. “We were wondering if we would see you there. What with the job performance and all.” He laughs, a loud, gaudy sound that makes you want to vomit.
All of the heat rushes to your face. You are by no means bad at your job. But despite your confidence and your skill, you can’t help how disgusting you feel.
“I speak for all of us here when I say nobody would really mind if you were,” another, younger one chimes in. You all but gag. You throw a glance at Roman, pleading, but he looks just as uncomfortable as you are. Disappointed, you realize you’re not going to get any help from him.
Without saying anything, you turn on your heel and calmly make your way out of the ballroom. You feel like ripping your skin off. Maybe then the feeling of those eyes will get off of you then.
You stroll through the halls, trying to comfort yourself. You don’t expect it, but after your second lap around the complex, you find Roman at your elbow, reaching out to take you by the arm.
“Holy shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve said something,” he admits. “That was disgusting. They’re disgusting. I’m really sorry.” He pauses, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I know that doesn’t help.”
“It’s okay,” you say quietly, rather unconvincingly at that.
Roman makes a face at you. “We both don’t believe that.”
“Really. It’s fine. I should’ve just made a scene so we could leave,” you say, attempting to lighten the mood, change the tone. Roman gives you his signature pout, refusing to take your word for anything. He’s worked with you for long enough to be able to sense when something’s wrong.
“Oh, come on.” He leans in towards you conspiratorially. “Wanna just ditch? Pretty sure I saw a vending machine while I was chasing you around. You walk way too fucking fast, by the way.”
He sets off down the hall, fishing his express card out of the zipper pocket of his dress pants. You follow, catching up so that you’re walking side by side. “You keep a credit card in your pocket?”
“Debit.” He hands it to you, and you hesitantly take it. He pats himself down, rooting through his other pockets. He fishes out some paper money and unfolds it. “Hey, look, five bucks.”
The card is sleek and impossibly expensive. You grip it tightly. Even though you don’t really know how you’d lose it, you don’t think you’ll know what to do with yourself if you do. “Do they even have vending machines in places like these?”
“Yeah, ’course they do. Saw it with my own eyes, anyway. Just told you,” he replies, letting you press the card back into his hand. He turns it over in his palm absentmindedly, eyes flitting about. “They just charge triple ’cause they know nobody’s checking the price.”
You both walk together for a short while, Roman getting a bit frustrated. He tells you that he was ‘just fucking there’ before a comfortable silence stretches, him focused on finding the damn thing. You don’t have to wait too much longer. “Hey, look, there’s an entire row,” you say, pointing.
“You know it’s fuckin’ crazy ’cause these aren’t even the ones that I saw earlier,” he mutters to you. “You like spicy chips?”
“Oh, you don’t need to get me anything,” you tell him after you process what he said. He sighs, turning back to the nearest vending machine.
“Cool. You’re getting Oreos.” Roman takes the crumpled five dollar bill and tries to smooth it out against the machine’s glass. You don’t think it’s going to help. That thing looks like it’s been through hell.
He presses a few buttons and inserts the bill. The machine eats it, and the small screen above the keypad flashes the word ‘PROCESSING’ in red, blocky text. You watch as the curly thing keeping the treats in the machine unfurls, pushing the sleeve of cookies forward, before it shuts, the cookies hanging on to the gadget instead of dropping so that you could get it.
“I feel like that shouldn’t be possible,” you say quietly.
“Fuck’s sake,” he says back. He bangs on the glass, and the sleeve sways. But nothing happens. Roman glances towards you. “Is this real? Are we in one of the most expensive fucking office buildings in fucking New York where the vending machines are holding my fucking Oreos hostage?”
You shrug, then fish out your wallet. “Here, put another five in,” you suggest, offering him another five. He pushes your hand back towards you, making a face, instead inserting his card into the machine. Again, a sleeve of Oreos gets pushed out. The previous ones finally fall from their position, but get stuck on the slot immediately below it. The same thing that happened with the first one then happens with the one just bought.
“This can’t be real,” Roman says incredulously. “Help me out, will you?”
He squeezes himself in between the vending machine and the wall, somehow managing to tilt the entire thing forward. You brace your hands on the front of the thing, keeping it from tipping all the way over. Carefully, you jerk your arms up, trying to shake the cookies free. A couple of tries later, a strange smattering of THUDS sound, spotty and horribly nonrhythmic. Roman peers out at you from his little nook, eyebrows raised.
You manage to get the machine back upright so that he can shuffle back out into the hallway. As you get your first glance through the glass, it’s painfully obvious a lot of what was once in the machine is now at the bottom for you to take.
“All this for only ten bucks is pretty good if you ask me,” you say, smile playing on your lips.
“Thank fuck this company is cheap in their manufacturing,” he murmurs back, grinning. He leans his back against the machine once you both hear footsteps approaching. The young man who’d made that gross fucking one-liner. Even though you have no proof, you get the disgusting inkling he was looking for you. He slows his pace when he sees you, and you do your best to school your face into neutrality. He stops entirely, opening his mouth to say something, look of confidence plastered over his face.
“Fuck’re you looking at?” Roman snaps, arm coming to drape across your shoulders, hand going to cup your jaw. He tilts your head up, quickly crashing his lips against yours. You’re surprised, but not even the slightest bit opposed. You grin into the kiss, and you can feel Roman smirking. He pulls back only slightly, glancing sideways at the other man. “What, you into voyeurism or something? We’re having a moment, shoo.”
You can’t help but laugh, clamping your hand over your mouth to trap the noise, and you watch the guy scuttle awkwardly away. Roman’s fingers stay on your jaw, brushing gently up the expanse of your skin. Without thinking, you lean back in and deposit a peck on his lips. He returns the fleeting kiss as he can, head then following yours back when you pull away to press his lips back to yours.
The kiss is deep, tender, needy. In between kisses, he murmurs praise. “You know you’re thirty times the employee any of those dipshits ever will be, mm?” Another lingering kiss, his hands drifting to your hips to turn you towards him. “And you’re so fucking attractive. Thank fuck this is finally happening. I think my staring at work was getting creepy.”
As his fingers travel to tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, you pull back enough to be able to kiss up his neck. You line kisses along the underside of his jaw, and he lets out a strangled noise. His free hand cups your hip, squeezing gently as his face flushes with pleasure.
He turns his head to take your lips with his again, sighing happily into your mouth between kisses. Your hands are now braced on his chest, and your heart flutters.
“Did it really have to take this to get us to make out?” you ask, smiling giddily, rubbing a hand over his pecs.
“Maybe, maybe not. Another few weeks without you and I probably would’ve lost it, anyway,” he admits to you. “You’re so fucking hot.”
Roman pulls away from you entirely, disentangling your limbs from each other. He stoops down to the output compartment, your previously won treasure forgotten in the heat of the moment. He pulls out a bag of chips, sitting down with his back leaning against machine. You go down and settle in next to him, sitting as close as physically possible. He tears open the bag before winding an arm around you, keeping you close, holding the bag so that it’s easily accessible to the both of you.
“What’re we going to do with the rest of it?” you ask, cheek pressed to his shoulder so you can rest your head against him.
“Planning on taking it with us.” Roman chews a bit, swallows, then dots kisses across your forehead. “Hey, wait, your Oreos.”
He twists to reach into the compartment behind him, roots around for the bit, and turns back around to hand you what got you into this mess in the first place. You tear open the sleeve, then offer a cookie to him. He pops one into his mouth, fat smile plastered on his face. You have to admit, you enjoy seeing him happy. Roman Roy’s smile does things to you. You mirror his expression as you gaze up at him.
He plants another kiss right onto your lips.
It’s a bit of a struggle to transport all of your loot to the car an hour later, but thankfully, nobody’s around as the two of you carry all of the junk across the building.
The drive back, you sit practically on top of each other, giggling and munching all the way.
Neither of you waste any time as the weeks go on. You start going out, and you find yourselves spending more time in each others’ offices.
One morning, a few months after you’ve made things official, you step out of your office to come face to face with a vending machine.
All that’re in it are bags of Oreos, and a small sticky note pasted to the glass with a sloppy heart drawn onto it.
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hamlets-ak · 1 year
Text
his last letter ༊*·˚
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༘♡ and life went on. but it was not the same
regulus writes you a letter before he goes to the cave
My Dear Y/N,
If you are reading this, it's too late for me.
I am writing you from my room, at 12, Grimmauld Place. My doom is hanging on my chest, like a rope around my neck. It’s heavy and unbearable. I can already feel it dragging me down.
That night at the Forbidden Forest, I had given you a promise, that I was going to change, that I was going to be good. You were so sweet to tell me that you didn't want me to change, you loved me so much and nothing mattered to you. It mattered to me though, because I wanted to be good. I wanted to do the right thing.
The time has come to keep my promise and be good. And if the right thing is going to cost my life, then so be it.
Y/N, my dear Y/N, I need you to know that I’ve changed. I need you to know that I did the right thing, that in my last moments on this earth, I was good.
I am writing to you determined to do what I have to. Y/N, my heart, please forgive me.
I wish I never had to write this letter to you, but I know that my road has no return. It’s not just me being my pessimistic self, no. I can feel that this is not going to end well for me, for us. The earth has prepared a deep and narrow place for me and I can do nothing but get in.
Please forgive me for not meeting you tonight. Forgive my sloppy handwriting. Forgive fate. Forgive Kreacher, the bearer of the bad news and please don't be mad at him. Forgive me.
If I regret one thing in this life Y/N, is not giving you more kisses, not hugging you tighter, not saying "I love you" every minute of every day.
Light of my eyes, a million hearts wouldn't be able to carry my love for you. I love you so deeply that no words can describe it. If only you could jump into my body for only a few seconds, you'd see for yourself, but I would never let you. I love you too much for this. You are everything to me.
You were the first person that made me feel truly loved. I know, my brother loves me too, or at least he tries to. I don’t blame him for taking his distance. After all the things I've done, I feel disgusted in my own skin. But you… how could you not be disgusted? How could you not leave me? How could you be there for me? How could you love me? People like me don’t deserve to be loved.
You made me feel that I wasn’t as bad as I thought, that I had a good side; that I wasn't always angry or mad, I wasn't misanthropic, as everyone said. You made me realize that I wasn’t a burden, that I mattered only for existing. You truly did love me… and honestly, I’m still not sure why. But I know you did. I could feel it every day, even in our worst moments.
I need you to know, you are the one and only for me, and you will always be. No matter what happens to me tonight, my soul will always be with you. I will always be yours. You will be my last thought, and my last breath will be your name.
I love you.
I’m afraid that you’ll forget me. Me, and everything we did together. Everything we were.
Please, think of me sometimes. But not the bad things; the fightings, the tears, the sadness, the fear… think about the good things.
Do you remember the night after that stupid Ravenclaw party? I was completely pissed. I could barely walk and, oh Merlin, I was so, so dizzy. You couldn’t stop laughing watching my anarchist side coming to the surface, as I was going up and down in front of Dumbledore’s office. I thought it’d be hilarious if we managed to get inside and burn the place to the ground. Well, we didn't do that, obviously. From walking so fast, I ended up vomiting in front of the gargoyle. I could still listen to your voice, as I was holding my knees and vomiting my guts out, and your laugh — I love it so much when you laugh. You then walked beside me, pulled my hair back, looked me in the eyes, and kissed me. I was staring at you like an idiot because I was too drunk. You smiled at me and then hugged me with your warm hands, your smell being the only thing I could sense.
That was the moment I first realized you love me. Who else would kiss the lips of a person that was vomiting only seconds ago?
I’ve never told you, but until now I’ve been thinking of that moment. Why would you be so kind to me? To me, of all the people on this Earth. And how can you love me?
Remember this time I was crying so hard without any reason, and I was just so angry that I was kicking the bathroom door and I was completely out of control? That day was terrible. I was hitting the wall so hard that my fist started to bleed. You had never seen me like that and I knew you were scared of me, but you hugged me tightly and didn’t let me go until I calmed down.
I asked you that day, why didn’t you leave me alone? Why did you have to be there? You said that you loved me so much nothing could drive you away. When you left I cried and didn't go to my next class.
I was so confused. But I knew one thing, I wasn’t one hundred percent evil like everyone wanted me to believe.
We had so many dreams and plans that will never come true. I should've left this whorehouse when I had the chance. I should've left with Sirius. If it wasn't for my ego... And then, when we were done with school, it was foolish of me to stay at my father's funeral. We could have been in the countryside now, married, away from everyone. I really wanted to marry you, to spend the rest of my life with you.
I'll stop thinking about that.
You have no idea how much it hurts knowing that you are reading this letter. It feels like a knife twisting deep into my soul.
Please, Y/N, you have to understand why I did this. I had to. I owed it to everyone. I owed it to myself.
I know it’s very selfish. I left you just so I can live up to the expectations I built for myself.
I am never going to see the day that awakens with you ever again, but I hope the light of the world is bright and gentle to you. I hope the people are good. I hope you smile and laugh every day. I hope you think of me sometimes, just once in a while.
My love, my heart, please don’t do anything crazy. Stay alive, do it for me. Live. I need you to keep going. If you love me, keep going. And please, get out of this place. Go to your friends, to my brother and Remus. I don't want you to be here. And don't even think about passing by my house.
I don’t know what else to say. I wish I could write you everything but time is running.
Please, know that I am not scared. I am not scared at all. I want to do this. It’s my decision, probably the only one I’ve ever made.
Don't forget to burn the letter.
It's so cold here and I can't stop remembering. My heart has no pity on me.
I love you forever.
R.A.B.
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bokutos-biddys · 1 year
Note
hiii! i loved your distraction fic with xavier so i was just wondering if you could write a ajax x fem or gn reader fic please 🥲
ignore this is you don't want to lmao
-More Pressing Matters-
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Ajax Petropolus X Reader
First I didn’t write distraction (wish I did) that was just a reblog. Ummmmmm I really didn’t know what to do for this one sooooooo yeah. It’s kinda bad becuase I really didn’t know what to write so this is just word vomit really
Make-out cause what would I wright without that and reader is Xaiver’s sibling. No gendered pronouns and reader isn’t referred to as anything other than ‘you’
———
“Um, phosphorus?” You answer, and it’s incredibly clear that you are not confident in what you’re saying.
“Nope.” Ajax says, flipping the note card in his hand for you to see. You’re both seated on your bed, facing each other while Ajax flips through note cards, quizzing you. “I’m never gonna get this.” You sigh, leaning your head back.
“Oh come on, you’ve got this. I’d expect you to be the one quizzing me.” He replies, flipping through the remaining note cards.
“There’s only a few left, we could watch a movie afterwards?” He questions, moving closer to you. “I’d love to.” You reply.
“Ok, what is the twenty-sixth element on the periodic table?” He asked, looking up at you through his eyelashes.
“Um, Boron?” You answer, tilting your head a bit.
He sighs, dropping the notecards. “Ok, what’s going on? I know you know this. You’re acing chemistry, I’ve seen your test scores.” He says, staring at you with a confused face.
“I- ” crap, how are you going to get out of this one? You’ll admit you might have been lying not truthing about how much you were struggling in chemistry but… ok you don’t really have a good excuse.
You sigh in defeat, you might as well confess.
“I was hoping you might take the hint and ask me out. I’ve been pretending to be awful at this so you’d offer a coffee date or something.” You pout, crossing your arms.
“Is that what it is? Wait, that came out wrong. I mean yes I like you but I never thought you would like me back. Especially because of Xaiver-“
“My brother doesn’t control me, he can worry about it all he wants but in the end the decision is mine.” You cut him off, a stern tone in your voice. You move yourself closer to him before resting a hand on his chest.
“So if you like me, and I like you, does that mean this is a date? You’re my boyfriend? And all that comes with?” You ask, leaning into him.
“Um” he mutters, staring at your lips, then you, then your lips, then you, this goes on for a minute. Finally he lets out a long sigh. “Xaiver’s gonna kill me.” He says before pushing forward.
His lips are soft. You don’t know why you expected anything else but it’s the first thing you notice. Honestly everything about this is soft. He holds your face like you’re some delicate piece of artwork, something that could shatter with the smallest touch.
And the shutter of his breath he lets out when the both of you pull away is deafening. You, personally, don’t really like the distance between the two of you so you start to lean back in before Ajax stops you.
“Don’t. You kiss me again I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” He whispers, pupils dilated more than you've ever seen them.
“And if I don’t want you to stop?” You ask, making it so there was barely a centimeter of space between the two of you.
He answers by pressing his lips to yours again. He’s not holding back you realize, it's all very enticing. He’s pushing forward, faster than you can lean back. Leading to you underneath him while he has a hand by your head and one resting on your waist. He’s able to pull all these quiet moans from your mouth all while simultaneously keeping you breathless.
“What the fuck is going on?” A shout makes you jerk apart from one another. Ugh, you hadn’t even noticed the door opening.
Despite the fact you have very firmly told Xaiver to knock he still clearly believes that he may barge in without warning whenever he likes. And despite the fact you have your clear annoyance written in your face Xaiver still thinks it appropriate to glare at the both of you. If looks could kill you believe Ajax would be far further than six feet under.
“Well, while you were busy moaning over your terrible love life, I was busy getting some. So if you don’t mind, I would like to get back to it.” You respond, getting up to push him out.
“Now wait, I believe I told you both to stay away from each other. How could you? Behind my back!” He pointed an accusing finger at Ajax. Who, in truth, looked ready for the ground to swallow him whole.
“And I told you that you don’t control me. So go back to painting or whatever and let me have this.” You said, finally pushing him out the door with a final shove.
He shouts from beyond the door but the both of you ignore it.
“I really don’t think he’s just going to drop the subject.” Ajax says, biting his lip.
“I don’t think a relationship between us is the end of the world. So if that's what he wants to worry about I’m not going to care much.” You reply, walking over to him before straddling his lap.
“There are more pressing matters.” You whisper with lidded eyes, your hands roaming up his shoulders.
“Yep, definitely, I agree.” He says quickly before meeting your lips once again.
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mamaestapa · 1 year
Text
Sick Day|| Joe Burrow x reader
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•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader
•summary: You take care of a sick Joe<3
•warnings: sick Joe, the flu, vomiting, lots of fluff
•word count: 1.8k
•A/N: I thought I’d post this for all of you that are waiting for a Welcome to the Jungle update (which is coming this weekend!) This is from my NFL imagines book on wattpad! :)
You were sitting on your couch, getting ready to watch (your favorite tv show) when your phone rang. You picked up your phone, smiling when you saw your boyfriends contact name, shiesty❤️‍🔥, on the top of the screen.
"Hey Joey!" you greeted cheerfully.
You heard a sniffle on the other side. Was he crying?
"Joe?" you questioned, "What's going on? Are you okay?"
"I think," he cleared his throat, "I think I'm sick, take care of me?"
His voice was raspy and he sounded congested. There was no thinking he was sick, he was definitely sick.
You frowned, "I'm sorry baby. Do you want me to bring anything?"
"Just you. Please." He finished his sentence with a cough.
"Of course, I'll be right over."
Joe nodded on the other line, but you couldn't see, so you were met with complete silence.
"Joe?"
He sniffled, "Oh, sorry. Okay, I'll see you soon."
"See you in a bit, I love you."
"I love you more."
You hung up the phone with a sigh. Usually when you get a phone call from Joe, he's more upbeat and cracking jokes every other line. You figured he must feel pretty bad then since he’s doing neither of those things.
You stood from the couch, going to your bathroom to freshen up before heading over to your boyfriends house. You live about ten minutes away from Joe's house, which speaking of his house, you currently are in the process of moving out of your apartment and into his house. It's taking a little while for you to get all of your things over to his place, but once the off-season is here, you'll be moved in with Joe.
You brushed your hair and changed your outfit, putting on a pair of black leggings and one of Joe's old LSU sweatshirts. Once you were ready, you left your apartment and headed for Joe's house. You texted him to let him know you were on your way and that you'd stop at the store if he wanted anything. He just replied with a simple "No thanks", so you drove straight to his house.
Once you arrived at his house, you unlocked his front door with a house key he gave you. You didn't want him to get up and open the door, especially if he wasn't feeling the greatest. You took your shoes off and placed them on the shoe rack, next to Joe's Nikes. You walked down the entry way and into the living room, frowning at the sight in front of you. Joe was laying on the couch with a blanket wrapped around his body. One hand was laying over his forehead while the other was placed on his stomach.
"Hey baby," you said, walking over to him.
Joe smiled softly at you, "Hey sweets."
You leaned down next to him, placing your hand on his cheek. He brought down the hand he had placed on his forehead, placing it on your forearm.
"How are you feeling?"
Joe sniffled, "Pretty shitty." he smirked, "but at least now I have a sexy little nurse to take care of me."
You shook your head, laughing at what Joe had just said. Even in his current state, he still had a comment to make. It made you smile, happy to hear your boyfriend was somewhat still his usual self.
However, your smile soon turned into a frown as you took in his appearance. He was paler than usual, with dark purple under eyes and a pink nose. You felt both of his cheeks and his forehead, checking him for a fever.
"You definitely have a fever."
He nodded, "Yeah, I took my temp about an hour ago. It was one hundred one point two."
You frowned, asking "Does anything hurt?"
Joe closed his eyes, "My head. My stomach hurts a little bit too, and my throat. I cant stop sneezing either."
"You poor thing, I'm sorry." You said, voice laced with sorrow as you gently stroked his cheek. Joe leaned into your touch.
"Can I get you anything?" You asked.
Joe started to sit up. You stood from your leaning position, helping him sit up. He smiled softly at you, muttering a "thank you".
"Just," he took a deep breath, trying to hold back a sneeze. It failed and he sneezed anyways. Joe groaned, "Oh god, I'm sorry."
You chuckled, "Don't apologize, Joey. It's okay."
"As I was saying, just holding me would be great." he said, bashfully. Joe wasn't one to initiate the cuddling, you always were. You smiled at him, sitting down on the couch next to him. Joe carefully laid back down, resting his head on your chest. He hummed as he snuggled himself into your breasts.
"Are you comfy?" you asked with a laugh.
"Very." He nodded, pulling the blanket over his shoulders.
"Good." you said softly. You brought your left hand down to his blonde hair, running your fingers through it gently and scratching his head every so often. You hoped it would lull him to sleep (which he desperately needed). As you ran your fingers through Joes soft strands of blonde hair, you noticed he started to stir a bit.
You placed a hand on his shoulder, "You okay?"
He nodded. You put your hand back in his hair, running your fingers through it, but stopping when you heard Joe groan softly. You didn't have time to react when Joe threw the blanket off of him and sat up, abruptly.
Uh oh. You thought.
"Joe-."
He cut you off, "I think I'm gonna be sick." He got up from the couch and sprinted off towards the bathroom.
"Shit." you cursed to yourself, jumping up from the couch and running into the bathroom. You frowned as you saw Joe hunched over the toilet. You sat down on the edge of the bathtub, rubbing his back up and down, trying your best to soothe him.
"It's okay, babe. You're okay. Just let it out".
He sniffled as he pulled his head out of the toilet bowl. He wiped his mouth before looking up at you. The look on his face made your heart break. He looked absolutely miserable.
"Oh, Joey."
You stood from where you sat, opting to sit down against the wall behind him instead. As soon as you leaned against the wall, Joe was instantly in your arms. The back of his head was laying on your chest while you wrapped your arms around him. He placed a hand on his stomach.
"Baby, I think I'm dying." He croaked dramatically. You couldn't help but laugh.
"You're not dying you big baby. I think you just have a bad case of the flu."
He groaned, snuggling himself further into your body. You put your hands in his hair, gently massaging his scalp.
"Sitting on the floor of your bathroom can't be comfortable." You murmured gently.
"No, but you are."
You smiled, "I'll cuddle you on the couch, okay?"
You felt Joe nod in response, so you carefully stood up from the ground, careful not to jerk his body too much. You helped him off the ground, tightly holding his hand.
"Do you feel like you're going to be sick again?"
He shook his head, "No. Not right now at least."
"I'll bring the trash can just in case. Now, you go get comfy on the couch, okay my love?"
He nodded, slowly walking out of the bathroom. You frowned as you watched him. You hated seeing him sick. Joe didn't get sick often, but when he did, it was just like this. You grabbed the trash can from the bathroom and went into the kitchen to grab a grocery bag to line it, just in case he did get sick again. You grabbed a bottle of blue gatorade from Joe's fridge, along with a bottle of sprite. You made sure to grab two straws too, one for each drink. You walked into the living room, setting down the trash can next to Joe. He smiled up at you.
"I brought you some sprite to settle your tummy. And a gatorade in case you get tired of sprite, plus the electrolytes are good for you."
He chuckled, "Thank you, sweets. Although it makes me sound like a child when you say that."
You giggled, placing the drinks on the coffee table.
"Can I get you anything else?" You asked, reaching out to caress Joes cheek. He brought his hand up to yours, holding it against his flushed skin.
"Cuddle me?"
You smiled, "How could I say no?”
Joe smiled softly as he slowly sat up to make room for you on the couch. Once you sat down and were comfortable, You put your arm up on the couch. Joe tucked himself under your arm pit, laying the side of his face on your right breast. Once he was comfortable, you grabbed the blanket and placed it over his body. You put your arm down, your hand laying on his blanketed bicep.
"Thank you for being my sexy nurse today, Y/n."
You laughed, rubbing his arm. "Oh Joey, Even when you're sick you can still crack jokes."
He hummed in amusement, "But seriously, thank you for taking care of me."
You leaned down and pressed a gentle, loving kiss to the crown of his head, "There's no need to thank me. I hate seeing you sick, I'd do anything to make you feel better."
"Oooh, anything you say?"
You shook your head, "Not that. Gotta get you feeling better first, Mr. Burrow.”
He chuckled, "Hopefully I'll be better tomorrow."
You hummed, rubbing his bicep, "I hope so too. Now," you brought your hand up to his hair, slowly running your fingers through it, "get some rest, okay?"
"Okay." He said quietly as he sniffled.
"I love you Joe."
"I love you more, sweetheart."
You spent the rest of the afternoon and evening on the couch watching SpongeBob and cuddling with Joe. Thankfully, he felt much better the next day and he got his wish for you to do anything to make him feel better ;)
hi loves!
as you wait for more welcome to the jungle updates, if you have any requests for imagines about joe, feel free to send them to me. i will happily write them for you!
hope everyone is doing well<3
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rachetmath · 1 month
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Paper Pleaser = RWBY+NRO+PP
Weiss: hey Jaune?
Jaune: What is it?
Weiss: Were you…like… you know… were
Yang: Were you f’ing the paper pleasers?
Jaune: *eye twitching* No. What the hell gave you that idea?
Blake: Well you named them after us. One was named Pyrrha and…
Jaune: *holding in his vomit* 
Ruby: Look we just-
Jaune: Stop! Okay no. Phew. Oo this fanbase. Look, girls… I have a question. What were the paper pleasers?
Weiss: Their servants. 
Jaune: One. What else?
Blake: They’re smart.
Jaune: Yeah… smart.
Yang: Oh. Oh… they are also stupid.
Jaune: Yep. That's the word. 
Ruby: But they took care of you.
Jaune: Yes because of the list. Which takes me time to complete. Remember when I say they're predictable?
Ruby: Yeah… but what-
Jaune: Ruby, when I first got there, I was sad. So I thought maybe, at first, they did all that to cheer me up. After the third time, I told them, “Thank you for trying to cheer me up.” They looked at me confused. Also, they were living creatures.
Ruby: Oh.
Weiss: I see.
Blake: That explains something.
Yang: Hold on! Then why did you name them after us?
RWB: Yeah!
Jaune:*raises an eyebrow*
RWBY: *stares back at him with a serious look*
Jaune: Are you sure you want an answer? Because I made it clear.
RWBY: YES!
Jaune: Okay. Y'all are reckless. I can't count, how many times, you almost died. And I couldn't do a damn thing about it. In fact, I can't help but feel like I am the cause because I don't bother to grab you by the shoulder and tell you to slow down. 
Yang: Oh.
Jaune: Yeah. Ascension is still death. So if you were to die unlike the Paper pleasers, you wouldn't return. You don't come back to life. You're six feet under the ground. And even if you do come back you won't remember me or your life. Then I have to tell your family. I have to live with it. I have to go on. Me. 
Ruby: I didn't -
Jaune: “Know.”? Of course. You never think about it. No one. Not Pyrrha. Penny. Alyx. Nobody! They don't have to live with it! I do! Just like Pietro. Pyrrha's parents. Ren. Qrow and your father.
Yang: But Alyx-
Jaune: Caused me more stress. Betrayed my trust. And almost killed me. One act of good… doesn't make up for years of pain. 
RWBY: *silent and feel bad*
Jaune: I struggled… to let Penny go. Now I have to let go of Alyx. I have to forgive her. And that's hard. It really is. So I think you know now, Ruby, why I got pissed after you spoke of them like they weren't real. 
Ruby: I'm-
Jaune: No need. Just understand this. Just because you had it ruff… … doesn't mean you had it worse. *leaves*
Ruby: *feels worse* Okay, I’m going to go cry.
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b0g-b0y · 2 months
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I vomited this out in 30 min. Not good not bad just meh.
Ghost x m reader. (Shadow company)
Love You More
His eyes scanned the bigger man, it’s been so long since he’d seen Ghost. He used to work with shadow from time to time but Ghost wasn’t a solo man anymore as he joined 141. The memory of Ghost's face still stranded the hallway. The memory of his clothes, weighing on a hanger. Y/n remember that time as they were something but not together it weighed on his heart like a garden that never grew.
The way Y/n saw Ghost looked at soap hurt, why was he so jealous?
Eventually brought out of his thoughts as Y/n overheard Gaz and Soap spit out an insult about shadow company.” Nothing but we dogs they are. Not to be trusted might as well put them down” Y/n overheard one of them say. But not a word fell from Ghost's lips, it stung how he expected Ghost to pipe up and say they were not all bad. But those lines never fell from the man’s lips. Just a small chuckle.
Later that night Y/n found Ghost taking a smoke late at night. Taking the opportunity to light up his own cigarette. “ Simon… how have you been?” Y/n spoke with a small crack in their voice. “ Been good.” Ghost replied with a short gruff response. The memory of Simon stroking their hair in bed together and Simon's deep voice softly speaking that “ I’d never hurt you.” But why did that feel like a lie, what changed so much in their relationship. “ Do you hate me?” Y/n spoke as smoke fell from his lips. “ No more. Y/n. No more of this whatever we had.” Before Ghost could continue Y/n spoke up. “ I’m not Graves! So you and everyone need to stop treating me like a damn devil. I’m not Philip! And I didn’t call out those orders…” Y/n snapped clearly he’s been stuck in his head a lot recently. “ But you’re his damn dog Y/n! You're at his heels the moment he speaks.” Ghost growled. As he throughout his cigarette. “ Fine, throw away whatever you want. You're just what you said you were. You're dead from this world. “ Y/n spoke bitterly. “ I will always care for you more, even if you don’t believe me you know my loyalty is true.” Y/n's heart screamed for him to confess that he more than cared about the British man.
As days passed Y/n stayed awake hoping Ghost would come in his door. But it was never that way it seemed like it never would be like that again. Maybe he was just a dog meant to be put to sleep. Again it seemed whenever Y/n made progress of getting over Ghost he would run into him again.
Shadow Company was meant to lend a hand to 141. But just like last time things went south, how did it come to this? How did it come to this, how was Y/n sitting in an empty room with cracked walls holding his side as he felt warm liquid fall down his hand and drip onto the floor. He didn’t remember, he couldn’t remember.
Y/n's eyes felt hazy; he could barely see the figures that rushed through the door. The faint blur of a skull mask brought a small smile to his cracked lips. However he didn’t recognize the other blur next to him.
His dark brown eyes bored into Y/ns e/c eyes. “ You can tell me I’m to blame if you say you’ll stay for sure.” Y/n said as his words fell from his mouth without thinking. “I feel all the same. I will always love you more.” Y/n's voice broke as he held onto the sleeve of Ghost. “ You’ll be okay Y/n, stop speaking nonsense you’ve gone mad yeah?” Ghost spoke with a panic hidden in his voice. But it was too late and things went dark.
That garden they would have talked about would never happen. That garden would never grow, not now, not ever.
Soap put a hand and Ghost's shoulder. “ Ghost, mate it’s ok he’s just a shadow company member just a merc. Let him go.” The Scottish man spoke. “ He’s more than that Soap it’s complicated… Soap he loved me for me and I turned my back on him, I promised I’d never… I promised I’d never hurt him. I promised so much. It doesn’t matter who he bloody belongs to.” Ghost snapped. Soaps browse frowned. “ He was right he will alway love me more” Ghost said as his voice cracked.
New furniture cracked from no contact
And the garden, it never grew.
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sixhours · 2 months
Text
Chapter 1 - The Ghosts of Babylon
Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete
Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3
~*~
Portland, Maine September 26, 2003
“Fuck.”
The air in the bathroom is thick with moisture, making it hard to breathe. You wipe at the condensation on the mirror and stare at the face reflected back at you, pale and drawn in the yellow light.
“Fuck, fuuuuck,” you mutter, holding the pregnancy test up and squinting, tilting it this way and that, hoping the extra line is just a trick of the light, but it doesn’t go away. You groan, internally vacillating between panic and rage.
Fuck.
There’s a knock at the door. Your girlfriend, Joanna, probably wondering what’s taking so long.
“Hey, you done? We just got called into the hospital again.”
“What?” You drop the stick onto the counter, but you can’t stop staring at it, the two clear blue lines taunting you. Outside your shared one-bedroom apartment a siren begins to wail. “I just got home.”
“That’s the job, babe,” Jo says. The doorknob creaks, breaking your reverie.
“Shit, just a sec,” you mutter, shoving your foot against the door and fumbling for some toilet paper to wrap the test in before tucking it at the bottom of the garbage can. You swallow the urge to vomit as Jo pokes her head in.
“You’ve been in here forever–”
“Jeez, privacy,” you snap, clutching the towel to your body more tightly, suddenly keenly aware of how flimsy it is, how exposed you are.
Jo’s eyes widen with hurt and you immediately soften, guilt stabbing at the gentlest swell in your abdomen. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…it’s just been a long-ass day.”
You soothe her with a quick kiss, hoping she can’t taste the hint of bile under the mint of your toothpaste and mouthwash.
“I’ll be right there,” you say, ducking around her, headed to your room in search of fresh scrubs.
“You want something to eat? I made sandwiches to go.”
Your stomach turns. “No, I ate at the caf after my last shift,” you lie. “Is this an all-hands thing?” you call over your shoulder as you dig in the hamper. Nothing is clean, there’s never enough time to do laundry.
Plenty of time to fuck an old buddy and get knocked up, though , you think, setting your lips in a grim line and smoothing the wrinkles out of some navy blue slacks.
“Yeah, Dan says they’re calling everyone in,” she confirms. “Something about a virus, flu season’s starting early, they’re expecting a full house. It’s bad.”
“Mmm,” you say, pulling on the freshest top you can find and tying back your hair in a ponytail. You meet Jo at the door where she hands you a brown paper sack, presumably your sandwich.
“You okay?” she asks as you walk the four blocks to the hospital, grateful for the crisp fall air. You hope it hides the flush in your cheeks, hopes she didn’t hear you retching before you stepped into the shower. She reaches for your hand and takes it, but your fingers are numb. “You’re quiet.”
“I’m fine,” you say automatically. “Just…tired.”
“Okay…hey, I had an idea for our anniversary next week.”
“Hmm?”
“There’s this new place on Congress Street, they do a great brunch with free mimosas? Since it’s on a Sunday I thought we could probably sneak in a date after your shift–”
“That’s fine,” you say automatically, squeezing her hand in weak reassurance; just the word brunch makes your stomach turn. “I mean, great, sounds great.”
She stops you outside the hospital’s employee entrance and holds fast to your hand to pull you back before you can go in.
“Babe. Are you sure you’re alright?”
You blink back tears, swallow hard, and it almost comes out. You open your mouth to speak, but the sound of a siren interrupts as an ambulance screams out of the nearby garage, lights flashing, and the moment is gone.
You pull her into a tight hug. She smells soft and warm and familiar, like oranges and vanilla. You press a tight kiss to the nape of her neck in an unusually public display of affection.
“Whoa,” she says softly, taking an unintentional step back as if to catch you.
“I’m okay,” you murmur into her neck. “We’ll be okay.”
~*~
The smell of antiseptic barely registers as you enter the building, so familiar to you now it’s like a second home. Joanna gives you a quick wave before being intercepted by her attending, who drags her off to the ICU to check on a patient.
By the time you drop your bag off at your locker, shoving the paper satchel with your sandwich at the back, you’ve almost put the pregnancy out of your mind. It comes naturally, this tight compartmentalization of your feelings, this easy decoupling from your emotional state.
The on-call attending physician looks no worse for the wear, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if someone higher up is overreacting to the news out of Indonesia. Your limited knowledge of virology knows the flu can’t jump that quickly. You’re over a hundred miles from the nearest major airport. It will be several days before what’s happening there crawls its way to this tiny state. It’s true, the waiting room is busy, but that’s not unusual for a Friday night.
You fight off a wave of nausea and take a clipboard from the wall.
~*~
Several hours later, at about the time a man named Joel Miller is holding his dead daughter in his arms somewhere in Texas, you are beginning to understand that this is not influenza.
Reports out of Boston and New York City are fragmented and, quite frankly, unbelievable. There’s a federal emergency warning on the screen of every television in the lobby and a growing sense of unease as nurses, doctors, and assistants dash between rooms, weaving between gurneys, calling out orders for beds, antibiotics, IVs. The thrum of the waiting room only grows louder and more insistent. The sirens are a constant, frenetic wail in the distance.
But all of that is a dim clamor in the background because your latest patient has a bite. A distinctly human-mouth-shaped arc of angry red impressions in the crook of their neck. The patient also has a sudden fever and a rash that is rapidly spreading up the side of their head. 
Rashes don’t move like that, rashes don’t fucking undulate …
If you didn’t know better you’d think it was blood poisoning, but you’ve never seen sepsis like this. You watched the bite happen, watched a troubled man in the waiting room lurch from his chair and fly toward his victim, sinking his teeth into the flesh of her neck before being restrained by an orderly and the receptionist. That was maybe five minutes ago, and you’ve never seen an infection spread so fucking fast . By the time you’d helped the patient into a cot, they were already shivering, skin clammy and burning at the same time.
The patient is your partner, Joanna.
“What…the fuck,” she murmurs, chest heaving. Her neck twitches and jumps under your careful, probing touch. Her skin is already dewy with sweat, hot under your fingertips.
“Hold still,” you hiss, unsure if you’re talking to her or your trembling hands. You douse the bite in antiseptic, wiping away the blood with a clean square of gauze, leaning in to examine the rash again. It’s crept up from her collarbone to her ear, and it has to be your imagination, but you can almost see it…move. Joanna is shivering, whether from the fever or shock you don’t know, but you don’t have time to process before a shriek rings out from the hall.
“Need some help out here!”
Joanna grimaces, hissing softly through her teeth. “Go.”
“Jo–”
“Go. I’ll be fine,” she says, even as her eyes roll back in pain.
You give her one last desperate look, squeezing her hand, whispering, “I’ll be right back,” before ducking out of the room.
A woman is seizing on the floor, spasms jerking her limbs from side to side. A nurse looks up at you with wide eyes as he attempts to stabilize the patient’s head and neck. The seizing woman’s head turns sharply and her teeth make contact with his wrist, ripping a gash in the tender flesh.
“Shit!” he cries, jerking his hand away, blood running in rivulets down his arm.
“Go, I’ve got this,” you bark. He doesn’t wait, doesn’t ask if you’re sure, just backs away and runs down the hall.
A hot hand on your shoulder spins you around before you can figure out what to do with the writhing woman on the floor. It’s Joanna, her eyes cloudy. The heat radiates off her body in waves, the rash–
Not a rash.
–has spread up her neck, already red and raised welt-like lines are slithering–
Rashes don’t slither.
–around the sunken sockets of her eyes.
“Help…” she croaks. Her fingers pulse and twitch against your collarbone, gripping too tight, too close.
“Jo, it’s–” you start to soothe, intending to send her back to bed, but she’s staggering toward you in sharp jerks, her mouth glistening, and some deep, primal urge makes you recoil from your lover’s embrace. You stumble backward, heels catching on the woman on the floor, and you land on your tailbone behind her.
Joanna follows like a moth to your flame, pitching forward, crawling, oblivious to the woman on the floor who is also moving underneath her, rolling over in a jerky, twisting, impossible way. Both women lock onto you and you can almost feel their need, their–
Hunger.
From down the hall comes a rising chorus of shouts, a crash. Someone bursts through the doors from the waiting room, one shoulder soaked with blood. From between the swinging doors, you see glimpses of chaos, hear more screams.
No. No. Not Jo. Not–
Something inside you breaks; you scramble backward, barely stifling a moan. You feel a hand tighten around your ankle and you kick it away, the tile floor slippery against your sweaty palms. Another hand grasps, scrabbles, another kick; a bloody palm print gleams on the crisp white leather toe of your sneaker.
No! No! Get out!
By some miracle you find your feet, feel yourself turning, running down the hall, deeper into the hospital. A dim part of your brain reaches for a reprimand, but you can’t make yourself stop, driven by panic, passing lines of gurneys and bodies slumped on the floor. You’re acutely aware of the thick smell of blood, drowning out the familiar antiseptic wash. You push your way through crowded halls over a chorus of groans and screams.
Out get out get out out out–
You burst through an emergency exit at the back of the hospital gasping for air, pressing your back to the weathered brick. Your heart lurches in your chest, wishing for this to end, for you to wake up in your bed after a bad dream.
A pregnancy dream , you think, barking a manic laugh into the night, recalling that your biggest fear this morning had been a little nausea and a missing red dot on the calendar. You taste hot bile and feel yourself swaying, ready to empty the meager contents of your stomach next to the dumpster, but a blinding light freezes you in its glare.
“Stop right there!”
You blink, stunned. Then you see the gun.
A figure in Army fatigues is pointing a rifle at you. The trembling of the muzzle makes you understand he’s just as scared as you are. If you get sick now, you’re a dead woman.
You raise your shaking hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot, I’m a…I’m a doctor.” 
He doesn’t lower the weapon. “Are you bit?”
“I’m not–I don’t know what–”
His voice rises, panic creeping in as he gestures with the rifle, jabbing it at you. “Are you bit?!? Are you sick?”
“No!” you say, trying not to let your voice shake. “No, I’m not sick.”
He swallows hard, appearing to take this in. You close your eyes in the endless seconds between breaths, waiting for the crack of the rifle.
You open your eyes at the sound of the gun being lowered to his side.
“Ma’am,” he says shakily. “I think you should come with me.”
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