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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

Hey I don’t know if you’re taking requests but if not just ignore this :) but if so could you write a poly!emt marauders fic where readers sick or something’s wrong but she doesn’t tell them or anyone until she gets semi seriously hurt

FYI your fics are literally my favorites they are so good I’ve been binging all your marauders fics <33

Thank you gorgeous!

cw: fainting, nausea, mention of skipping a meal

(also note: I used celsius because they’re british, but for my american homies 39.5 is just over 103 degrees fahrenheit)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Your day has been hazy. You knew you were off before you even left the house, the lazy sluggishness of sleep not wearing off the way it normally does, but you couldn’t afford to pay it any mind. Your work had gotten done slower than usual, frustrating for all the effort you put into it. The thought of lunch made your stomach churn, so you had mint tea during your break instead. The joints in your fingers ached from typing. Even now, sitting on the barstool at your kitchen counter while you try and finish up an assignment that really should have been done hours ago, your back seems stiffer than usual. Your bones hurt.

“That’s far too much onion,” Sirius comments from the stool beside you, leaning across the counter to scrutinize James and Remus’ work in the kitchen.

Remus pauses in dumping a cutting board full of chopped onion into the pan on the stove. You see him look at James in your periphery, and even without paying proper attention you know something passes between them. James takes the cutting board from Remus, scraping the remainder of the onion in with a knife.

“Overruled,” he decrees.

Sirius scoffs, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Have fun kissing me tonight.”

“I’d think if we’re all eating it, we’ll be on fairly equal footing in that regard,” Remus points out.

“Yes, equally foul-smelling. So romantic.”

“Angel,” James says as he starts slicing up bell peppers, “do you plan on working on that all night?”

“Almost done,” you murmur, trying to ignore how nauseous the smell of all the food makes you. You squint into the brightness of your laptop, typing as quick as you can think. Which is to say, not impressively fast.

It’s your boyfriends’ day off, and they’ve decided to celebrate the rare occurrence of none of them being scheduled to work by going to the cinema. James and Remus are making dinner first, but the film’s in just under two hours. You know you’re sacrificing some time with them now, but it’s only so you can enjoy the main event later. Plus, if you stop working, you’re not sure you’ll be able to pick up the momentum to start again. You have a creeping sense that at the first opportunity for rest, you’ll lie down and never get up.

James says something encouraging, and then the conversation goes on without you. You lock into your laptop screen, fingers pressing down upon the keyboard like an extension of your brain, and gradually the sensation of being outside of yourself, your body moving on autopilot while your mind simply fuzzes over, envelops you. Slowly, the world just…slips.

An odd sound leaves Sirius as he lunges for you, like an alarm that went off without him telling it to. He catches you but not quite, one hand wrapping around your arm and the other fisting in the material of your shirt, stopping you from tipping over only temporarily. James runs from behind the counter to help. Accompanied by a steady stream of curses from both of his boyfriends, he eases you out of your stool and onto the floor. You’re already coming to.

“Is she okay?” Remus asks from the kitchen, and Sirius hears the sound of the stove flicking off.

“She’s hot,” James says, one hand cushioning your head from the floor while the other feels about your face and neck.

The quip comes to Sirius naturally—as usual—but he’s in no mood to deliver it. Though he trusts James’ assessment, he touches the backs of his fingers to your forehead anyway, hissing at the heat that meets them. It’s a wonder he didn’t feel it emanating from you in the barstool next to him.

“Angel,” James’ voice is a coo, gentleness coming naturally to him whereas Sirius’ panic feels hot and dangerous beneath his skin, “do you feel alright?”

You hum, though it sounds more like a grunt. “Mhm.”

Sirius almost laughs. “Come on,” he says, “be straight with us.” He works two fingers into your wrist to get your pulse, rubbing his free hand up your arm cajolingly. “You did just pass out, so we know you’re not fine.”

Remus sets a hand on Sirius’ back as he lowers himself to the ground by your legs. A support for them both.

“I…” You blink for a couple of seconds, and they wait, knowing you’re probably still out of it. “I guess I feel a little sick.”

James cracks a smile, though it’s tinged with worry. “A little?” he asks, smoothing down the baby hairs at your temple. “You’ve got a horrid fever.”

You sigh. “I figured.”

“You figured?” Sirius is aghast. He suddenly has a very clear picture of how your day has gone, and it unnerves him. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

You look wary, and Remus’ hand runs the length of Sirius’ back quickly as he stands. “Alright, let’s move you somewhere more comfortable, yeah dovey?”

You relax a bit at the affection in his tone, and Sirius feels bad about ever making you miss it. This is something he’s never been able to quell about himself. His love almost always manifests roughly. For the most part, you all know how to interpret it, but when you’re vulnerable like this and he can feel you feeling the gnashing teeth of his worry, Sirius wishes he were gentler.

James won’t let you walk yourself the short distance to the couch, lifting you in a bridal carry and setting you down with such carefulness it makes Sirius’ chest ache. Remus goes to get the thermometer. Sirius steals the spot beside your head selfishly. Thankfully, there’s no lingering timidity in your gaze as he combs his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your ear and trailing his touch down your neck.

“You’ve been feeling unwell for a while,” he says, softer this time, “haven’t you.”

You look more guilty than anything, eyes going big and doe-like. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say?” James asks, lifting your legs so he can scooch underneath. He rubs the skin above your knees fondly, a small furrow between his brows.

“I just,” you sigh as though disappointed, “wasn’t ready.”

“Wasn’t ready for what?”

“To be sick.”

The scratchy, delightful sound of Remus’ laugh comes into the room with him. “Well that’s silly,” he says, reaching over Sirius to settle the thermometer in your ear. “It doesn’t seem to be waiting on you, does it?”

“Guess not,” you mutter. Sirius strokes your jaw with his thumb.

When the thermometer goes off, both he and James lean in to see, but Remus forsakes them, bringing it up near his face where he can read it. He hums.

“What is it?” James asks.

“Thirty nine point five.”

They all frown. Sirius touches your forehead again, just to be sure. Unfortunately, it seems accurate.

“What are your symptoms, sweetheart?” Remus asks you, settling on the floor beside Sirius with his knees bent in front of him. “Does anything hurt?”

“I feel sick—like nauseous, and sort of achey.” A little notch appears between your brows, and Sirius had the impression that you’re finally letting yourself acknowledge your own misery. His gut twists with sympathy. “My stomach is starting to hurt, but I’m not sure if that’s just because I skipped lunch.”

None of your boyfriends even have to say anything. You look abashed enough by their expressions.

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you say in a small voice.

James breaks easily, taking your hand and bringing it to his mouth for a firm kiss. “Can’t believe you went all day feeling this poorly and didn’t say anything,” he chides lovingly. “What did you think was going to happen, hm?”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Your gaze flitters about the room, landing on Sirius’ eyes for a fraction of a second before it’s dropping shyly to the couch cushion. “It was dumb.”

“So long as you know,” Remus agrees with a brief eye-roll. “It sounds like the stomach flu, so at least it should be better in a couple of days, but there’s not much to do other than rest.”

Your face pinches unhappily. “I’m sorry for messing up your big night too,” you say, and you look like you’d curl up in misery if James weren’t currently using your legs as a blanket. Sirius’ heart gives a little throb.

“Don’t be,” James says. “We’re still with you, aren’t we? And if we get sick, too, that’s just more days off!”

It’s clearly a joke, but you look extra guilty anyways. Your features tighten in a slight wince. Sirius works a hand between your face and the couch cushion, leaning forward to kiss the space between your brows.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says. “Better when we can be with you than when we’re busy helping some other poor sap, yeah?”

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etfrin · 7 months

Text

What's the fun?

warning - NSFW (f.masturbation, fingering f. receiving, dumbfication and degradation)

playboy&roomate!Geto x virgin female!reader

summary - Geto keeps bringing girls to the dorm and reader is curious about what's so great about sex and Geto offers her to teach the wonders of sex.

- - -

Even today you saw someone leave the dorm, glowing with hickeys all over their neck. It was a common sight for you now.

You couldn't help but wonder about the many girls who left satisfied after a night in Geto's bed. Refreshed and happy after an orgasm as if they weren't failing all of their classes and have hundreds of pending assignments. Or perhaps that's just you.

But you can't help yourself, your mind is genuinely curious. Geto was cooking his breakfast in the kitchen, wearing nothing but sweatpants. His hair is in a messy bun.

You go near him, sitting on the counter. He glances at you but pays more attention to the cooking. You swallow in nervousness before finally spitting out, "What's so great about sex?"

Gojo stops for a second before stirring his food. His lips twitch in amusement. "Don't you know?" He asks, his voice raspy.

You shake your head, "Virgin." Hearing your answer he turns to you, turning the stove off. He raised his eyebrows, but there was no hint of shock, "Don't you touch yourself then?"

You shake your head. You tried masturbation during your high school years but never reached the edge no matter how hard you tried or how many toys you had used. Perhaps it was because of this you had given up on sex completely, it certainly wasn't helpful that you didn't fit into the social standards of beauty so not many asked you either.

You opened your mouth to explain, "It... never worked out." His lips were now in a smirk, and he leaned forward, caging you. "I could always show you," he offered, his eyes twinkling in amusement and just a hint of heat.

You licked your lips, a nervous habit. You could say yes... but you stop yourself at the last moment. You shake your head. You chuckled, despite feeling disheartened, "I won't be another name to add to your list, Geto."

Geto simply shrugs and plates his food. "Your loss," he said before leaving the kitchen.

Not even a week later, your curiosity won over you. You wanted to feel the pleasure you spent so many nights reading about. You wanted the intimacy people tend to over-glorify by a mile.

You knocked at his door, and after recieving permission you enter his room. Neat and clean, just like him. He glances at you, he was on his desk, his laptop on. His eyes held the trumpet, he knew exactly what you were here for.

"Go to my bed and touch yourself, my sweet," He said, his eyes on the screen, his long fingers typing across the keyboard. "I'll give you my attention when I deem fit," He said, his words were mean but his tone was so soft-spoken.

You wondered if you should have left instead your legs dragged you to his bed instead. Your leggings and panties are on the floor. You bite your lower lip at the intrusion of the finger inside your cunt. You weren't wet. You tried to squirm the finger around. You pout, your eyes glaring at Geto, begging for attention.

"Geto," you let out breathless, "I don't know what to do." Geto doesn't look back, still typing. He replied, "Think of me."

That fucking narcissist, you think. But you heed his words. You imagined his mouth on you, you imagined his fingers, his cock splitting you apart.

Oh. Your cunt was drooling now, enough to ease a second finger in. You let out a whimper. You could see Geto's shoulders tensing from the noise. He likes noises, you noted.

You don't hesitate to let out your whines and whimpers. Your fingers fucking you at an impatient pace, and the sound of squelching seemed to echo. You just wanted to cum. You just wanted to cum.

"Geto," you moan his name, your fingers deep inside your cunt, unable to hit the spot they needed too. "Please, please, I need you," you whine.

You let out a flinch as he shut the laptop rather loud. He turned his chair, looking at you. You were still wearing your T-shirt. He glances at your clothes that were on the floor. He shakes his head in faux disappointed. He picked them up, folded them, and placed them on the table.

All the while, you were still needy, your cunt throbbing with need but unable to let go. He walks to his bed, sitting down near you. His hand holds your jaw, making him face you. He leans down and whispers, "What does my little slut want? Would she prefer my fingers instead? I can't believe that you're so dumb that you can't even cum from your fingers."

Your eyes widen from his words but your walls twitch too. "Ge- geto," you said shocked, not sure what to reply. "Dumb girl," he whispers, looking straight into your eyes. He takes your fingers out. The very same fingers coated in your arousal were licked clean by him. You could feel your pussy clenching with each suck of your fingers done by him. His mouth is a different kind of warmth than your pussy.

"Geto," you whispered again, not sure what you were asking for. His eyes flicker at you. "Shut up," he said in a voice that made your pussy clench harder than ever.

"Dumb slut," he smirks, your fingers now clean from your arousal but covered in his drool. His fingers tap your pussy, before rubbing up your clit. "At least you taste good," he said in a condescending tone.

His fingers crossed the threshold of your entrance, your cunt sucking his fingers in so easily. He hums as his fingers go in deep. They curl right up to a spot that has you moaning.

He chuckled at your reaction. "That's it," he whispers.

After he found that spot, you couldn't do much except moan. Take what he gives you. His fingers continue to thrust themselves in, pressing into the spot without mercy.

You could something coiling up, and you whimper to Geto, "I think- Geto- close!" He chuckles at the warning. "Cum, slut" he whispered in a mocking tone. It pushed you over the edge. Your walls spasming around his fingers. He kept going until your high ends before he took them out. His free hand holds your jaw to face him again. "Eyes on me," he ordered. His tongue licked up your cum on his fingers. He could see you getting flustered from the act. After he was done, he patted your cheek. As if you were truly dumb, fucked dumb by his fingers and words.

"Now leave I have to finish my assignment."

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xiaosorbet · 10 months

Text

unreachable (kaveh x reader)

he's with you day by day, but as each one passes, you feel him growing distant. unreachable. you're not quite sure what changed.

content: angst, established relationship, gender neutral reader

warnings: might be ooc ?? also drinking (it's kaveh)

word count: 3.9k

author's note: HI TUMBLR this is my very first post here!!! hello!!!! also my first time writing in a hot minute so apologies if it's rusty. enjoy :)

sunday

you wake up drowsy and cold. the window is open, letting in a cool breeze. the space next to you on the bed is empty. the bedroom door is closed, though from the other side you can hear the sound of sizzling oil on a pan. kaveh cooks breakfast for you on the weekends, since his schedule doesn't allow him to on weekdays. you don't mind.

you go through the usual weekend morning routine. wash your face, slowly wake your body. the weather today isn't unpleasant; the sun hides behind the clouds, but you sense no sign of upcoming rain. kaveh greets you in the kitchen, wearing his pajamas and a smile. you give him a kiss on the cheek, and you chat about the weather while he flips strips of bacon on the stove.

it's just another sunday. unremarkable, but cozy. you spend time together over breakfast, laughing over the slightly burnt bits of bacon. he isn't used to cooking, since he rarely gets the chance, but he always tries his best. diffident apologies are never excluded from his dishes. seeing his shy smile makes you warm and appreciative.

later, you lay on the couch with him, entangled legs but separate worlds. he hunches over his laptop and a sketchbook, working on a project. the same kind he works on during the weekdays, and late into the nights. you tell him he should rest, he needs a break. he could watch a movie with you. you two could go out somewhere. you haven't gone on a proper date in a while, you tell him. it's sunday, he should be free of his work for once.

he waves you off. he's almost done. just a bit more, he claims, just like he always does. his eyes remain glued to the drafts and the blueprints. they don't catch how your lips straighten into a line, too focused on the ones on his screen.

you've been with him for almost a year. there was a time you could draw him away from his work. in the earlier days, all it took were a kiss and a soft plea, and you would have all of him on you, his hands, his gaze, his attention. nowadays you're not sure if he even hears you sometimes.

the rest of the day is uneventful. you do what you can to pass the time. you read a book as his keyboard clacks, his pencil scratches against the paper. he asks if the sounds bother you, suggests that you could read in the bedroom instead, it'd be more comfortable. they do bother you, just the slightest bit, but you shake your head and say you want to stay.

that night, you get ready for bed together. you brush your teeth together, smile at each other in the mirror. you kiss each other goodnight, and sleep with your backs to one another.

monday

kaveh's alarm wakes you. it trills in your ears, long and loud. you aren't accustomed to the sound lately. usually, you wake to your own alarm. this is the first time in a while you've heard his.

the alarm rings on and on, yet kaveh remains still, deeply asleep, lying on his back. you don't want him to wake up. you stare at his face, peaceful in his sleep, not burdened with stress or frustration from his work. those two emotions seemed to be all he would take home with him during the weekdays. something tells you this was the first good sleep he's had in a while.

all too soon, he stirs and wakes. he turns off the noise and plants a kiss to your head, apologizes for waking you, then moves around the room and around your little apartment, getting ready for work.

he leaves early. every day, he must be in his office at 8:00 a.m. to talk to clients, manage whatever building of his is being constructed at the moment, the works. he used to tell you all about it, and you would listen regardless of how much or how little you understood of his work. these days he just doesn't have the time or energy.

on the other hand, you work from home. your job is one that requires only your computer and half of your day, more or less. your own alarm goes off not long after kaveh has left. your days without him are routine and simple. you make the bed, make yourself breakfast, get to work for a bit. some days you clean the house, other days you get the groceries. it's mundane, and today is no different.

you set up your laptop and do your work on the small dining table near the kitchen. your little shared apartment doesn't have enough space for a study, so you and kaveh make do with the rooms you have.

later in the afternoon, after you've finished your work tasks, you decide to cook something for kaveh once he gets home. upon inspecting the cupboards, you discover that you have all the ingredients needed for a simple cream of mushroom soup. it's his favorite. when you finish, you let the pot sit on the stove.

the rest of the day is uneventful. you're used to the boredom. you send kaveh a text, saying you made him his favorite soup. he responds a couple hours later with a thank you.

his job is supposed to end at 5 p.m., but you count yourself lucky if he makes it home before 7. more often than not, he stays at his office overtime, sometimes because clients and contractors hold him up, though mostly because he throws himself into his work and loses track of time. you never saw the point in that, since he always ended up bringing his work home and doing it here anyway.

when he arrives home, he carries not only his suitcase but also an air of dejectedness you've come to be well acquainted with.

you try to comfort him as best you can, but as the months have gone by, your company seems to have less and less of an effect as a distraction from his woes. you sit with him on the couch and ask him what's wrong, but he brushes you off. the usual, he says. that's what he tends to reply with these days, and it's been so long since he's elaborated further that you can hardly recall what "the usual" is anymore.

you miss the way he would talk your ear off about all of his problems, the way he would pass them all onto you for you to dispel them with sweet, comforting words and gestures. you were his rock.

silence stretches between you and him. you aren't quite sure how to break it and even less sure that he wants you to.

tentatively, you tell him a little about your day. there isn't much to tell, and you feel somewhat bad telling him about your job that is less taxing than his. he seems to be listening, but he doesn't have much to say in response. only a few hums and nods. he must be exhausted.

you remember the soup you made him, and you tell him. his lips twitch up into a small smile in acknowledgement, though his ruby red eyes, weighed down by eyebags, hold only his tiredness.

when you set down two bowls of soup on the dining table, soft snores emanate from kaveh's body, now haphazardly draped across the couch. you think to wake him for dinner, but something inside you makes you stop. you don't know what it is, but there's this feeling, a voice in your head saying he'd probably just prefer to sleep there undisturbed. it's not a new occurrence.

so you eat alone. the second bowl goes into the fridge.

tuesday

this time, your own alarm is what wakes you. when you get up, you find that kaveh has already left for work. you guess he slept on the couch all night, because you didn't feel him climb into bed with you, and the sheets on his side of the bed remain unwrinkled.

you go through the usual cycle of work and boredom. nothing noteworthy happens with your work or around the house. you start pondering many things in your free time. you think about how you should probably clean the house one of these days. there's been a bit of dust on the counters, the shelves.

you think about kaveh, who must be working himself to the bone. you know he loves his job. no matter the obstacles he would have to face, all the issues and complications, he would always express to you that there isn't anything else he'd rather be doing.

nowadays… he doesn't tell you much of anything. it's like he closed off. you know he still loves his job. it's been his passion to be an architect his whole life. you don't sense that that has changed, but… something else has. his job has always been a demanding one. you're used to seeing him come home exhausted, stressed. but he confides in you about it less and less. you don't know why.

the question of why isn't a particularly new one. it's been there in the back of your mind, occasionally surfacing on days like this. you never had an answer, so you would usually push it away and pretend like there's nothing to question at all. that's what you intend to do today, just like the countless times before. you don't want to bother him with it anyway.

when he gets home, it's the same, but he seems less tired than the day before. he brought home takeout for dinner, and the two of you make small talk as you eat. you bring out the soup from yesterday too, and he thanks you for it. he apologizes that he didn't eat it yesterday. you wave him off, it's not a big deal.

the conversation doesn't get detailed or personal. any spectator that would happen upon the two of you might not realize that you've been together for over a year. the words that flow between you and him are friendly but not intimate. an unfamiliar feeling seems to tug at your heart, something that feels like sadness or confusion or dread, but you ignore it as you exchange idle chatter.

kaveh offers to do the dishes, but you stop him and do them yourself. he gives you a smile, and you see the tinge of gratitude in his tired eyes.

later, when you're about to head to bed, you bid kaveh goodnight while he hunches over a sketchbook on the couch, and you know he'll probably fall asleep there again.

before you go, you watch him from the hall; he's right there, yet somehow he feels… unreachable. your chest twinges again with that strange feeling. your lips part and you feel like you want to say something, but there's really nothing to be said.

you face kaveh's side of the bed when you lay. you feel a little cold, and the soft light peeking from beneath the door feels so far away.

wednesday

when you wake up, his side of the bed is empty and seemingly undisturbed once again. part of you thinks that maybe he just fixes and straightens out the sheets before he leaves, but you know that isn't something he'd do.

the rest of the house isn't as empty, though. as you make your morning coffee, you idly look around your place. it feels like it's been a while since you've really seen it.

most of it just screams kaveh. he decorated the place when you first moved in. you helped choose some of the furniture, but ultimately, you let him have the creative freedon to do with them as he pleased. some stray sketches are scattered on the coffee table in the living room. next to them, a couple of pencils. you pick up one of the sheets of paper and see a gorgeous landscape drawn on it. a garden with winding pathways and dreamlike flora and a romantic gazebo right at the center.

something seems to gnaw at the inside of your chest. a feeling of yearning. you're not sure why, but this drawing has made you feel like you're missing something.

you miss kaveh. the realization strikes you so overwhelmingly that your grip on the sketch tightens, your frown deepens. you miss him.

so what now?

you sift through a few more of his drawings, most of which are unfinished. as your eyes skim over his messy handwriting on each piece of paper, next to each grand building and humble house, the urge to call him, to hear his voice, to feel him with you becomes too much to bear.

where is this coming from? why are you feeling this? he was with you last night, wasn't he?

no, not really.

…but in the end, you decide to keep your feelings to yourself, and you decide not to call and disturb him while he's at work. though, to at least satiate the gnawing and pulling and dragging in your chest, you shoot him a text saying you hope his work is going smoothly. he responds a little bit later with a thank you, saying he hopes the same for you. and that's enough.

thursday

you're surprised when the first thing you see upon waking up is kaveh's back. the clock on your nightstand reads 3:08 a.m. and everything else is dark, but you can just make out his silhouette lying next to you.

the aching in your heart comes back. you will yourself to push it down and go back to sleep, but it demands to be felt. you feel it stronger than ever, the urge to reach out to him and pull his body to yours and feel him against you. nothing should be stopping you, but you hesitate nonetheless. you prop yourself onto your elbow and gaze at him for a while. even here, mere inches away, he is unreachable. you lean down and ghost your lips on his shoulder and whisper i miss you before laying back down and drifting back to sleep.

when you wake up again, the morning sun colors the bedroom, and you see that kaveh no longer occupies the space next to you. the rumpled sheets in his place tell you that you didn't just dream of his presence there last night.

the day passes by in a blur. it feels like the only thing you're fully conscious of is the dull sadness in your heart. you miss kaveh overwhelmingly. it confuses you how far away he feels even when he's right next to you. it's as if some invisible barrier has grown between you and him. you just miss being close with him.

when he gets home, you expect your heart to lighten, but it only seems to weigh down on you more. you can't help but envelop him in a soft hug when he walks through the door. you hope he can feel some of the yearning in your embrace. he returns the hug halfheartedly. he's just tired from work.

as you have dinner together in the low light of the dining room, you can't help but watch everything kaveh does. he's the same as he'd been since you met him. the way he holds his fork is the same as it was when you first went out to dinner together. all his little mannerisms, the way his body moves with everything he does, it's all so familiar to you. his whole being is chronicled in your mind. you liked to think that there wasn't anything you didn't know about him, but lately, you aren't so sure anymore.

and so it's back once more, the urge to reach out, the urge to ask him so many things and feel him with you again. the feeling that he's so distant despite being right in front of you. unconsciously, your grip on your fork tightens. you watch him some more out of the corner of your eye, unsure. his eyes focus only on his food.

your thoughts and wants whirl around you until you can no longer bear the silence between you and him.

finally, you manage to open up and ask him. why are you so distant lately? why don't you tell me things anymore?

you intended to sound stronger, gentle but still confrontational, but you felt like a little kid as you spoke. like you doubted your own words, that your questions might be unreasonable.

he doesn't give you an answer. for a long time, he stays silent. he stops eating and refuses to meet your eyes. his name leaves your lips, so soft and so small that you think he didn't hear. so you repeat it, more insistently. your mind floods with pleas that lodge in your throat. please. answer. tell me.

seemingly sensing your growing desperation, kaveh looks into your hopeful and pleading eyes, and simply says: i don't know. i'm sorry.

in his ever-familiar scarlet eyes, in that face you know like the back of your hand, you feel like you see a stranger in the windows of his soul.

that night, you toss and turn alone in your bed. the emptiness of it used to be so easily excused as kaveh simply accidentally falling asleep with his work. only now did it occur to you that he might have been doing it intentionally.

your mind feels like a storm of confusion and frustration and sadness. you wish you had the strength and reason to scream at him. instead, hot tears fall onto his pillow where you lay your head.

friday

the day feels dull and empty. you aren't entirely sure what to do. you go through the motions of a normal work day, but it's obvious that you're lost and helpless. you feel weak, being so uncertain of where kaveh stands. you're certain that he still loves you... that maybe he's just going through something within the confines of his own mind. he needs only to let you in so you can repair the rift between you two, so you can heal whatever's broken inside him.

throughout the day, you subconsciously make a vague script of things you want to say to kaveh when he arrives home.

please tell me what's wrong, kaveh.

i'm here for you, kaveh.

please come back to me, kaveh.

every sentence formed is laced with desperation. it feels like you're screaming into an empty cave, no response besides the echo of your distress.

all you want is for things to go back to how they used to be. you yearn for kaveh's eyes to shine with all the love and adoration in his heart like they used to whenever he looked at you. you miss feeling his warm gaze, his strong arms around your body, conveying every ounce of affection he couldn't express with words.

you just miss his love.

strangely, the day feels excruciatingly long, but also as if it passed in the blink of an eye. you're entrapped within the haze of your own longing.

you don't realize how late it is when kaveh gets home. you intend to greet him casually, so that you don't overwhelm him. you intend to communicate your feelings to him over dinner. though you're overflowing with things to say, you don't wish to go overboard.

but you soon forget all of that, because one look at him slightly swaying by the entrance immediately tells you that he's drunk. all your thoughts are instantly replaced by concern. you rush to his side while he holds a hand against his head. instinctually, you begin fussing over him, asking him why he drank, how much he had. you know he's not good at handling his liquor. the redness taking over his face and neck indicate that he drank a lot.

you don't remember exactly when, but there was a time he promised you he'd stop drinking to this extent. one late night, he came home drunk after work, in a state similar to his current one. you fussed and worried about him. you lectured him too. so he promised he would stop, because he didn't want to cause you more distress.

now, you ask him why he's broken his promise. maybe you were right in thinking something was wrong with his work, enough to drive him to drinking again. in your flurry of emotions, you barely give him room to breathe. you seem to briefly forget yourself as you reach up and cradle his face in your hands. gently, you plead, tell me what's wrong.

he takes your wrists and sighs before stepping away from you. your name leaves his lips in a broken whisper. he looks at you, and you see every bit of your desperation and chaos in your reflection in his eyes. his eyes, which are pained, bloodshot, defeated. he apologizes.

you step towards him. you don't want an apology. you want an explanation. he starts by saying that he cares about you. that you still mean something to him, that you'll always be someone important. it sounds like he's rambling.

everything else blurs. the only things you fully perceive in the next moments are the words that leave his mouth and the look in his eyes as he says them, resolute, mournful, regretful.

i just don't love you anymore.

saturday

they say drunk words are sober thoughts. deep down, you knew he'd say those words eventually. you've been in denial for the longest time. always trying to push away the notion that he no longer loved you. you always thought it was impossible, but part of you knew this was inevitable. it didn't matter that he was drunk. you both knew the words have been sitting on his tongue for a while now.

maybe that's why you didn't cry that night. when you went into the bedroom and lied down, yes you were sad, but there was also a sort of relief there. a burden was lifted from your shoulders and his. you no longer have to pretend. as you drifted off to sleep, you felt somewhat weightless.

it's midday now. the gravity of what happened starts to settle in. you lay on the couch, which smells like him, and your tears fall onto the cushions. kaveh is nowhere in the house. he left you with a note, saying he'll be staying at a friend's place. in the note, he promised he'd come back and you two could talk. the tiny naive part of you felt hope that he meant to work things out with you. but you know it's hopeless.

the silence of your home stabs into your ears. you cocoon yourself in memories of him, in sheets with his scent, in his drawings and once endless musings. your heart won't stop reaching for what isn't there. you still don't fully understand how someone could just fall out of love. but there's nothing else you can do about it now.

all you can do is let him go.

sunday

you wake up drowsy and cold. you stare at the ceiling for a very long time. no sounds of sizzling or pleasant humming make their way to where you lie. birds chirp their morning song, car engines phase past.

his world rotates without you.

#help this ended up being so much longer than what i had in mind #genshin impact #kaveh x reader #kaveh genshin impact #genshin kaveh #genshin x reader #genshin angst #kaveh angst #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #my works #ps i swear i have nothing against proper dialog i just wanted to try smth different akjdhgfakj

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chezzywezzy · 2 years

Text

Yandere Hush (1/4)

Word count ; 4.0k

*Edited.

When Y/n’s agent and accountant said that she earned a ‘snowy winter realness’ vacation, she agreed. But, as someone who spent most of her life in cities and hot climates, she hadn’t expected snow to be so inconvenient. She thought that, with how the cash flowed with her recent blockbuster films, Suzy would’ve raised the budget enough so that she wasn’t renting out a two-story cabin that was completely snowed in and barely had working electricity.

Her fingers clacked on the keyboard as she lazed on the comfortable couch. The place was cozy, so she’d give it that. Even though she was deemed a ‘celebrity,’ her standards weren’t that high; but, if she was expecting a ‘resort’ vacation as a treat for her hard work, she would’ve expected something more stable.

There was a small living room with two tinier sofas and one large. A table sat in the center and across from her was a television that Y/n had yet to make use of thanks to her computer and phone existing. There were several windows, ornate and flowery curtains open and displaying thesun, about to drop behind the trees at any moment.

From across the living room was a small kitchen. The refrigerator buzzed and it was a rather old-fashioned stove, contrasting to the modernity of the rest of the house. There were two exits to the large patio that was barren of furniture and had a thin layer of snow, one in the kitchen and a much larger one between it and the living room.

Behind the living room was a small guest bedroom that Y/n had yet to make use of. There was a winding staircase to the second floor, and there was one small bathroom next to the stairs. In reality, the second floor was the main attraction. The main bedroom was large, with several beanbag chairs and a large view to sit at. The bed was cushioned and warm and her suitcase, not yet unpacked, lay beside it. Down the hallway was another bathroom - equipped with a bath, this time -, and across from that, an office with bookshelves that were only half-occupied with books.

Sure, the place wasn’t the warmest, and Y/n didn’t like the weather or the bad wifi signal, but Suzy was right. Y/n was in need of some alone time. Apparently, the script she was working on - a drama loosely based on her own experiences - was worthwhile. And even though Suzy was always positive and encouraging, Y/n felt that her story was worth telling for all the little kids that were a mirror of what she once was.

Y/n was just finishing up an email with a potential director. It may have been vacation, but job opportunities were still lining up. Especially after her role in Doon, starring several S-tier celebrities. According to the news, Y/n ‘made it big time.’ It was as flattering as it was stressful.

She was about to finish up with,’ kind regards, from Y/n.’ But, just then, knocks sounded from the patio door. The door itself was sheer glass, which Y/n noted was rather dangerous, but Suzy said that it was the ‘specially reinforced’ kind.

She set the laptop on the coffee table. As she peered up, she was met with a middle-aged Mexican woman who’s thick black hair was just beginning to gray. Her face was wrinkled and she was quite short, barely over five feet. She was completely bundled up in winter clothes. In her grasp was a bag of peaches, and as Y/n approached the door, a friendly smile spread across her lips.

Y/n slid the door open. She shivered from the cold, only in a sweater and wool pajama bottoms. Her feet were bare since she abandoned the slippers and the cold weather nipped at her cheeks. She smiled back, although just the existence of another person made her weary and exhausted.

“Hello!” the woman greeted in a thick Spanish accent. “I heard from my husband that some new neighbors had moved in nearby. I came to meet you since this place hasn’t been used in a few months at least. I’m Alondra!”

“Hi,” she answered, relieved that she wasn’t instantly recognizable. “It’s nice to meet you, but I’m only taking a couple weeks here for a vacation. I’m Y/n. Why don’t you step inside? It’s quite chilly outside.”

Alondra pursed her lips and shook her head. For someone so old, she certainly did have a lot of energy. She insisted,” I was just dropping these off as a welcome gift. I hope you enjoy. I’ve had a real kick from trying out this fruits-only diet. To put it bluntly, fruit helps you shit.”

“Does it now?”

“Yes, yes! I would recommend, but you look incredibly healthy. Such a spry young woman,” she complimented. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before? Are you sure you aren’t a local?”

Y/n chuckled. “You probably recognize me from television. People have dubbed me a celebrity, is all.”

“Oh, wow! That’s quite interesting.” She paused, rubbing her gloved hands to her face. “It must be so lonely out here all alone. And with all the snow, you can’t do much, eh? Come over for dinner tomorrow. You can meet my husband and son. He’s down for the holiday.”

“Are you sure?” she paused, wracking her brain. The woman was nice. The wariness had dissipated with ease. “I would hate to impose.”

“Not at all! Maybe my son knows you. You know, you youngsters really love famous people these days. More than my generation ever did, at least. Then again, the famous women these days are so much prettier!”

Y/n adjusted her wait, curling her toes underneath her foot. She took the peaches from the woman gratefully, and with an eased smile, answered,” Then sure. I’d love to join. What time?”

“Seven o’ clock. My son’s finally old enough to join us adults for happy hour, too. He’s twenty.”

The celebrity blinked and chuckled, nodding along. “I’ll be there. Stay warm, alright?”

“You too! Especially with the blizzard that’s coming in tonight. Hopefully this old place has a generator. Otherwise, you might just freeze to death.”

Y/n was caught off guard from the rather dismal topic, but just like that, the woman was off. She waved over her shoulder, trudging down the patio steps, and headed right. Y/n watched her go after shutting the door, reveling in the warm atmosphere after two minutes too long.

The woman disappeared down the snow-covered road. She gulped, thoughts returning to the oncoming blizzard. She was starting to think that Suzy didn’t know what she was talking about when she said this would be relaxing. She set the peaches on the counter, and as she peered out the window once more, she noticed how the snow had a pinkish tint from the setting sun.

Y/n made her way over to the fridge. She opened it, grabbing some beef and pasta. As she hummed, deciding to make a basic spaghetti dish for dinner, she removed her phone from her back pocket and set it on the nearby counter. She began preparing the food with ease, dazing off into space as she watched the meat cook and the pasta boil.

Just as she was stirring the meat around, her phone started buzzing from her ringtone. She reached over, not abandoning her spot, and opened it. Suzy was calling. Y/n decided that her worries weren’t worth mentioning since Suzy worked just as hard, although she was currently on a vacation to Hawaii with her wife.

She pressed answer and put it on speaker. Immediately, though, she regretted it, as the woman boomed,” Y/n! Great to see you picked up. How’s the vacation treating you? Is it ‘the dream’?”

Y/n cringed and turned down the volume. Her ears buzzed from the sheer sound of Suzy. She was a quick and loud talker, and it was generally part of her charm. Just not over the phone. She paused her lips, answering,” It’s quite isolated. I’m fond of it, although it’s rather chilly and shut in. How’s paradise?”

“Perfect, perfect, but I’m not here to talk about me,” she insisted energetically. “I came to tell you to bundle up tonight. A blizzard’s passing through tonight. You’ll definitely be snowed in. And the forecast says it’ll probably reach under ten below.”

Y/n shuddered at the thought, sighing,” Yes, I’ve heard. If I freeze to death tonight, make sure it’s written on my tombstone ‘death by thoughtful accountant’.”

“Heh, I was hoping you’d get to have more fun than that,” she huffed. “I mean, there’s a ski resort not even fifty miles away. And a frozen lake perfect for ice skating a few miles down the road! I probably should’ve checked the weather report before I decided on the place, huh?”

Everything was done cooking, so Y/n turned off the various knobs, letting the boiling water calm itself. She leaned against the nearby counter, replying,” It’s no problem. It’ll be a new experience good for storytelling once I’ve recovered from hypothermia in the hospital.”

Suzy sighed exasperatedly. “Just call me in the morning, ‘kay? We don’t need America’s sweetheart freezing over.”

Y/n hummed,” Yes, yes, I’m sure. Listen, my dinner’s done cooking and I need both my hands to plate it. Have a nice time, Suzy.”

“You too, Y/n! Good luck surviving.”

Suzy hung up in record speed, leaving Y/n to sigh and shove her phone back into her pocket. Her toes tingled in anticipation of how she’d be very uncomfortable that night. But, for now, she had a delicious meal to consume and would maybe settle down with some good ol’ American television.

For the next half hour, Y/n ate, watching a rerun of some stereotypical telenovela. She recalled getting some mock scripts from a few when auditioning, the series or movie not yet letting in on what her character was meant to be. After a while, she was invested in the drama of characters who’s names she didn’t know and never would remember. An hour or so later, she was completely decompressed and wanted nothing but a hot shower before hitting the hay.

She set her phone onto the coffee table. Her feet slid into her fuzzy bunny-rabbit slippers as she went upstairs. She grabbed a towel and waited for the hot water to turn on. While doing so, she brushed her hair out of the way and took out her hearing aids, setting them on a shelf for the time being. She would just be a few minutes, after all.

Y/n stepped into the steaming shower. The hot water almost burned her skin since she wasn’t used to it. Slowly, she was, though. She ran her fingers through her hair and washed it carefully. She reveled in the hot water. She tried to squeeze her entire body under the waterfall, as any inch that wasn’t was wrought with chills.

The hearing aids were left abandoned on the shelf. The bathroom was filled with the noise of running water and the snow beginning to pick up outside, white flakes crashing into the bathroom window to Y/n’s side. But, most prominent of all, were the howling shrieks of the middle-aged woman who was desperately banging against the patio door.

Y/n stepped out of the shower, wrapping the fluffy blanket around her body. For a while, she just stood there in thought. She was often grateful for the ability to turn off the sounds around her. Life was frustrating and loud. Being almost completely deaf had its risks, but she tried her best to be safe.

Alondra had a stab wound, crying for Y/n to answer the door. She was barely clothed, only adorning her husband’s sweatshirt and jeans. Her socks were soaked and her feet might as well have been bare. Her skin had paled, but it was hard to tell in the moonlight. Her front half was stained in blood, and not just her own. Her own child had been brutally murdered on her doorstep, only after a few minutes of the electricity shutting off.

However, she sustained a stab wound in her hip. She doubted she had lost the masked assailant, but she’d somehow escaped him while dashing through the cold. She was absolutely trapped, and her only chance was alerting the new neighbor. She had electricity. She had wifi. She had weapons.

Alondra kept banging on the glass. “Y/n! Y/n, help me, please! Y/n, are you in there?”

She paused, trying to open the door for the umpteenth time. It was locked. It had been a minute ago, and it was now. Alondra was consumed by her despair, peering over her shoulder into the dark fuzz. The white snowflakes, of which were slowly being riled up further and further, cascaded her vision. She could see but six feet away from her, the rest blocked by a white wall. Her entire body was trembling from the cold, and she was beginning to realize she would either freeze or stabbed to death.

She let out a frustrated cry. Alondra was utterly terrified. The wind was howling so very loudly. So much so, that she couldn’t detect the unrevealed figure behind her.

Only when an arrow stabbed into her back did she realize. She screamed in fright, collapsing agains the glass. The man, instead of reloading, stalked forward. Alondra shrieked once more, swerving to face the killer. She recognized them immediately as the asshole who killed her son, and she attempted to dart down to the kitchen door.

The killer chuckled lowly, although it was lost in the wind. He threw the crossbow over his shoulder, allowing it to reside against his back. Instead, from his wooly winter jacket, he withdrew a long blade. The woman bashed on the glass and pulled at the handle, but it yielded no results.

The man grabbed the arrow in her shoulder, withdrawing it in one fell swipe. The woman cried in agony, collapsing to her knees. Her vision was beginning to blur, but she kept banging on the door, praying that the young resident would come to rescue or at least be alerted of the attacker’s presence.

The man kicked her shoulder, forcing her to the ground in an unnatural position.

The man wasted no time, descending the knife into her eye. Blood squirted against the mask, and the man only cackled quietly in glee. The woman’s screams fell silent and maroon stained her skin. Her chest eventually stopped heaving and the snowflakes fell against her skin, melting into the open wound.

The man was quick to pocket the knife. With what strength he retained, he hoisted the woman up and began down the patio steps. He peered right and left, but it was hard to see with the blizzard. Instead, he decided on tucking the corpse underneath the steps to rot.

He slowly walked back up the stairs. He tried at the kitchen door, but it was locked. He thought that the woman was simply delusional, but Y/n was smart. She wouldn’t just leave the doors open for any unsuspecting strangers like Alondra to doddle right in.

He withdrew from his pocket a lock pick. It was tiny and peculiar, but the man had acquired practice over the years of preparation. The door slid open with ease not even a minute later, but once he did so, he paused. His breath caught in his throat in awe as he heard the shower running from upstairs.

And then, the water stopped.

Y/n, after a few minutes of sitting in a daze, decided to get dressed again after taking but a glance at the window. It would’ve been pitch black outside, if not for the flakes of snow that hit the pane. She shivers in distaste and, as the final step, put on her hearing aids again.

Her hair was still soaked, but she usually allowed it to hair dry. It always ended up frizzy otherwise, and the electricity could go out at any moment. The house was completely silent, except for the weather outside drilling into the walls and windows.

She glanced around the coffee table. Her phone wasn’t there. She sat up and moved the couch pillows around. It wasn’t there, either. She hopped to her feet and went to the kitchen. She scanned the counters, and thinking that it might’ve been upstairs somehow, she went to turn back.

But then she noticed.

The kitchen door was ever-so slightly cracked open. A pile of snow was already piling up and melting on the floor. But, most concerning, was the smeared blood seemingly drawn on the glass by a single finger. There was a splatter, not any more than a few feet above the writing, of even more blood.

Y/n’s heart picked up. She took but a moment to scan the messy handwriting.

‘Hi :) I’m a big fan <3’

Just as her eyes widened, the lights above her suddenly shut off. The house was left shrouded in darkness, and nothing terrified her further. A squeal escaped her lips as she dashed forward and shut the door with a loud slam. She clicked the lock, and as she did so, a gloved hand suddenly grasped at the handle from around the corner.

Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs. She stumbled back, and the hand removed itself, only to reveal a figure. They were suited up in winter garb, but most memorable, was the emotionless white mask. The head tilted, and only then did Y/n notice the crossbow barely peeking over his shoulder. It was dark outside, but her eyes had adjusted.

It was impossible to not see them.

The figure tilted his head. He gives a curt wave before pointing toward the door. He had the gall to ask to be allowed in, despite how terrifying the circumstances was. When he realized he yielded no results, he tugged on the door handle animatedly. He withdrew from his pocket a small screwdriver.

Tears sprouted to her eyes as she hugged herself tightly. Through gritted teeth, she shouted,” Please, don’t do this! I - if you leave now, I won’t tell anyone! I haven’t even seen your face!”

The killer paused, clearly having heard this. Y/n was on the verge of a mental breakdown. She was completely and utterly fucked. The man had gotten in once and he could get in again. She didn’t have time to suit up and run. Hell, she didn’t even know where to run. And that blood had come from a living person.

She dreaded to think that it was the sweet neighbor from earlier.

The man’s free hand went to his face. Slowly, ever so menacingly, he removed it. As he pulled it over his forehead, the band encircling the back of his head snapped up. With the mask discarded, his face was visible. The mask thudded to the soft layer of snow, abandoned and forgotten.

The man’s eyes bore into Y/n. A grin tugged at his face and there was such a glaze over his eyes that Y/n couldn’t quite identify. She shrunk back even further, analyzing every detail she could. He wasn’t the type of man you’d see across the street and think took up a hobby of slaughtering people. He looked so normal. And that was even scarier than any macho man that could’ve been revealed. He had slight fuzz across his jawline and a developing mustache. He seemed to have dirty blonde hair and had an oval face. Blue eyes, pale skin, thin eyebrows and average lips.

He was just a guy.

Sending a mischievous smirk, he crouched down. He dipped his gloved finger into the splatter of blood above, still wet and sullied from the on-pour of melted snowflakes. With one fell swoop, he took a large glob. He then began tracing letters right above the original writing.

He wrote backwards so flawlessly. It made Y/n petrified to think he’d done this cat-and-mouse routine with many other people. Y/n knew this was her time to run, to gain some distance. To figure out a game plan. But, instead, she watched as he traced letter after letter.

And then, his gaze flickered back up to the woman, his focus broken. His finger withdrew ever so slowly, and his grip on the lock pick was hard as steel. He tilted his head so innocently, a smile tugging at his lips.

Y/n scanned the words.

‘Now you have.’

#yandere #x reader #x y/n #self insert #yandere x reader #yandere slashers #hush 2016 #yandere oneshot #yandere horror #hush x reader #yandere hush #yandere stalking #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n

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liaromancewriter · 10 months

Text

The Love Language Test

Premise: Sienna and Max explore which of the five love languages works for them.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Sienna Trinh x Max Valentine (M!OC) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,350

A/N: Requested by @storyofmychoices from this prompt list - preparing lunch. Submission for @choicesprompts Rewrite challenge. It's inspired by this Blue Bloods scene in S11 between Eddie and Jamie about their love language. I'm also using @choicesflashfics week 40, prompt 1 (in bold)

“What’s your love language?”

Sienna Trinh pursed her lips as she glanced over the top of the tablet and waited for Max Valentine to answer.

It was after dinner, and they were in his home office. He was catching up on emails while she was parked on the couch, keeping herself busy. She had started hanging out here when he wasn’t on calls and found it comforting to have him close.

“My, what now?” he asked without looking up, his hands flying across the laptop’s keyboard, eyes focused on the screen.

“Love language,” she said. “You know, the way you like to express and receive love. There are five of them, but we each have one or two that speak to us the most.”

Sienna explained patiently, repeating the words she’d read in an online article. “If couples communicate using each other’s love languages, the relationship can become even stronger.”

“Sex,” he chuckled, turning his head to wink at her. “Just let me finish here, and I’ll happily show you.”

Sienna rolled her eyes. “Be serious.”

“I resent that,” he joked, eyes back on the laptop screen. “I’m always serious about sex.”

“Why does Cassie know all about this, and you don’t?” Sienna mused, fighting back a yawn as she stretched out on the comfortable couch and pulled a fleece blanket over her legs to keep them warm.

Until recently, she had been under the impression that as twins Cassie and Max were more alike than different in their tastes and interests. But she was slowly realizing the error of her ways.

Cassie loved junk food, and Max was all about eating healthy. Cassie inhaled coffee by the gallons. Max preferred tea. She was an optimist and a big believer in fate. Her brother was a realist and inherently skeptical. And yet, Sienna loved them equally but in completely different ways.

“I keep telling you, babe. We’re twins, not clones,” Max retorted. “Besides, Cassie majored in psychology at Georgetown and has always been interested in this stuff. I’d be surprised if she didn’t know it.”

Sienna rubbed her eyes and checked the time at the top of her screen. She should get up and get ready for bed but felt way too comfortable to move. She’d just started a new job last week, and her body was still adjusting after a two-month break.

That reminded her. She still had to put her lunch together for tomorrow. She’d meant to do it earlier, but it slipped her mind.

She yawned again and fought to keep her eyes open, losing the battle as she sank deeper into the couch.

Sienna woke up the next morning in their bed wearing the Wharton tee shirt she’d stolen from Max’s closet. Slightly disoriented at first, she gazed at the ceiling as she tried to remember the events of last night.

She remembered bantering with Max about love languages, and then her memory was fuzzy. She had wanted them to do an online quiz, but she must have fallen asleep before she could suggest it.

Sienna really wanted to learn his love language, and hers too in this relationship.

Max had arisen before her as usual, but his side of the bed wasn’t cold to touch, so it must not have been long. She yelped when she saw the time and quickly climbed out of bed.

A short while later, she was dressed for work except for tying back her hair. Desperate for coffee, she rushed into the kitchen to throw some snacks together since she wouldn’t have time to make anything.

She pulled up short at the sight of Max behind the counter and delicious aromas wafting from the stove.

“Good morning,” he said affably, walking around the kitchen peninsula to lock his hands around her hips and buss her on the cheek. “You look beautiful today. You should wear your hair down more often.”

He turned away to pour coffee and handed her the mug. “Heard you moving around and figured you’d need this before long.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, enjoying how his hand lingered over hers around the mug before he let go.

She sighed in pleasure as the first hint of caffeine hit her taste buds. “Something smells amazing, and it’s not just the coffee.”

Sienna watched him above the rim of the coffee mug. He wore the loose pants and tee shirt he’d slept in and hadn’t showered or shaved.

“I made you lunch,” he said, voice muffled as he reached inside the lower cabinet for a roll of wax paper. “It’s a roast beef melt on a French baguette with caramelized onions and sautéed mushrooms. Just the way you like it. ”

Sienna felt her heart turn to mush as he deftly wrapped the sandwich and covered it with foil to keep it warm. That’s when she noticed her lunch bag on the counter, the cover unzipped and flipped open. Inside were a trail mix snack, a small container of strawberry yogurt and three chocolate chip cookies.

Setting her mug down on the counter, Sienna moved into Max and wrapped her arms around his waist, tilting her head back to meet his puzzled gaze.

“Thank you for this,” she nodded toward the lunch, “and knowing exactly what I need.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, cupping her face. “Taking care of you is my absolute pleasure. I’m so grateful fate brought us together.”

“I thought you didn't believe in fate,” she teased.

“I didn’t...until I met you.”

She smiled dreamily at the words, stretched on her toes and kissed the underside of his jaw.

Max tenderly put two fingers under her chin, raised her face, and then lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was short, sweet, and perfect for the moment, she thought, their foreheads leaning against each other.

“Let’s have a quick breakfast, and then I have to grab a shower and get dressed,” he said, stepping back. “I’ll make sure to be at home on time today. Maybe we can watch a movie or hit the blues club? A night out on the town. Would you like that?”

Sienna shook her head out of a daze as she glanced around the kitchen, her eyes narrowing as she put two and two together.

“Wait a minute.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Did you just practice the five love languages on me?”

She held up one hand and started counting. “Gave me coffee, complimented my appearance, kisses and hand touches, made my lunch, and a mouthwatering one at that, just because, and now quality time as a couple.”

Max just shrugged. “I read up on them last night, and they looked interesting. I didn’t know which was yours, so I figured I’d run an experiment and do all five.”

“I find that incredibly romantic,” Sienna admitted, mind boggling at the lengths he’d gone to at such short notice. “And also mildly terrifying because of how good you are at them.”

He smirked. “What can I say? Valentines are competitive as fuck and overachievers when we go after what we want.”

Max reached for her hand and tugged her close. “By the way, your love language is definitely acts of service. You practically had heart eyes when you looked at the lunch bag.”

“I know,” Sienna said. “I’ve always done things like this for everyone, but someone is looking after me for the first time in a long time. And it makes me feel so cherished.”

He squeezed her hand in acknowledgment. “In case you’re wondering, mine is quality time. I know I can be a workaholic at times. Okay, most of the time,” he amended when she made a face. “But spending time with you, just us, even if it’s having you hang out in my office while I answer emails? That’s what I love most.”

Hand in hand, they stood in the middle of the kitchen, eyes locked on each other. They needed to get to work, but both were loathe to let go of this perfect moment.

“Five more minutes?” she whispered.

“Five more minutes.”

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

All Fics & Edits: @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @takemyopenheart @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Max & Sienna only: @aallotarenunelma @storyofmychoices @kyra75

#open heart #open heart choices #choices open heart #sienna trinh #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choices fanfics #writers on tumblr #choices fanfiction #short story #my writing #sienna trinh x max valentine

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the-wip-project · 1 year

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The WIP project - setup

Hello writerly friends!

I loved reading your answers to the question in the last post, and if you haven’t done it yet, use this post as a reminder to do it. List three things you love about your WIP.

For today, I’m thinking about where I write and how I write. That’s actually a thing I’ve been at for a few weeks now. I write on my laptop when I’m at home on my couch, usually using google docs. But when I’m on the go, I have a bluetooth keyboard for my phone and write with that. It works great! But I want to get away from google docs, so I’ve been trying out browser based writing apps (because I really don’t want to install yet another app on my phone, if your stuff works in browser, just let it work that way, for fuck’s sake).

I’ve been trying out https://novelpad.co/, https://noveleasy.com/, https://writer.bighugelabs.com/, side-eyed the https://fictionary.co/ editor and I haven’t quite made up my mind yet. Lately I even went back to LibreOffice and to carrying my laptop around (it’s not exactly slim and light, though).

In all that testing and bug-hunting, I was wondering what the ideal writing setup is. Not just software-wise, but also living-wise.

If space and money did not limit you, what would be your ideal writing environment and setup?

Mine would be a cabin in a garden with a porch for sunny days and a wood-stove inside for colder days. Sounds of nature all around me, a light laptop to write on, maybe a sound system to play instrumental music.

After you made your own list, think what you could change about your current writing setup, to get a bit closer to your dream setup.

Like, I can’t have a cabin in a garden, but I can buy nose-cancelling headphones on sale and play rain sounds on those. And, maybe, schlepping around the laptop isn’t too bad, at least then I have all I ever need with me.

Let me hear your ideas!

@quilleth, @theoriginalladya, @kmlaney, @coffeewritesfiction, @mareebrittenford, @lilliebellfanfics, @keyboardandquill, @fontainebleau22, @kinetic-elaboration, @wildswrites, @rhikasa, @inkvulture, @heroofshield, @bad-at-names-and-faces, @sabels-small-sphere, @annaofthenorthernlights, @sarahawke

#the wip project 2023 #how we write #writing setup

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snappedsky · 2 years

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Fanatics 95.1

The Night Terrors and the Battalion find the house where the Nightmare is hiding.

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

Final Awakening: All or Nothing Part 1

The Battalion and the Night Terrors approach the lonely, little house and step onto the creaking porch.

“Should we knock?” Tenna asks.

“Nope,” Johnny grunts and kicks in the door without hesitation.

Everyone readies their weapons, but when no one comes running at the commotion, they go inside.

It’s dimly lit, illuminated only by the sunlight coming through the windows. The first room is a combination living room and kitchen. Against the left wall is a small television in front of a single easy chair. To the right are a refrigerator, stove, sink, and cupboards. The far wall holds two closed doors. Multiple dark stains criss-cross the carpet, as if something was dragged across the floor many times.

“This is why my house doesn’t have carpeting,” Johnny remarks as he runs his boot across the stains.

“It’s quiet,” Dib comments.

“Too quiet,” Zim adds.

“And lonely,” Squee comments.

“Too lonely,” Zim adds.

“Let’s look around,” Tak suggests, “stay close.”

“In a house this small, it’s hard not to be close,” Devi points out.

The Battalion and Night Terrors split into their respective groups and cross the room to check out the closed doors. The Night Terrors open one to find a small bathroom that looks like it hasn’t be cleaned in a while. The porcelain of the toilet, sink, and bathtub are stained and rusted.

The Battalion open their door to a dark bedroom. Tenna tries the nearby light switch but it doesn’t work. On the other side of the room is a small window with the drapes drawn. Johnny opens them to illuminate the room.

It’s a small room that smells of dust. There’s a small bed with a single sheet and pillow near the window. Beside it is a nightstand holding a digital clock, a notebook, and a novel. On the other side of the room is a computer desk with a laptop and scattered stacks of paper and writing utensils. Next to that is a closet door.

“There’s no power,” Zim observes as he looks at the blank clock.

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here for a while,” Dib adds.

Squee leafs through the papers on the computer desk but they’re all blank. He taps the laptop keyboard and to his surprise, it turns on.

“The computer’s still working,” he says. The battery is almost dead. On screen is a writing program, with just a single Korean word and a number at the top. “Looks like they were trying to write a book.”

“How do you know?” Gaz asks.

“I may not be able to read Korean, but I know a work-in-progress chapter when I see one,” Squee replies.

By the nightstand, Pepito flips through the notebook and blinks with surprise. Most of it’s empty, but on the first couple pages are hand drawn music bars and notes. “Looks like they were trying to write music too.”

Devi opens the closet and leaps backwards as many different things tumble out. “Fuck,” she gasps, kicking at the clutter. “Looks like a hoarder.”

“Look out for pack rats,” Dib warns.

“What are you guys doing in here?” Reverend Meat asks as he and the other Night Terrors peek into the room.

“Snooping,” Tenna replies as she, Devi, and Johnny dig around in the clutter. They find half-painted canvases and half-empty sketch books; a piano keyboard and an acoustic guitar; mini-skirts, crop tops, and high heels.

“They tried painting too,” Devi states.

“And those look like pop idol outfits,” Pepito adds.

“This is like a room full of half-baked hobbies and failed dreams,” Squee muses.

“Damn,” Johnny grunts.

“Okay, so we’ve learned a lot about this person’s life,” Tak snaps, “but where are they? Where’s the Nightmare?”

“Tak’s right,” Zim agrees, “where are they?”

“The Nightmare is here,” Shmee insists, “we just don’t know where it’s hiding.” “Look for a basement,” Johnny suggests.

“You think this house has a basement?” Devi scorns.

“It’s gotta be hiding somewhere.”

“It must know we’re here,” Eff growls, “it should just come for us.”

“Yeah, come on, parasite!” D-boy barks, stomping on the floor. “Come get us!”

Johnny cocks his head curiously.

“Would you two shut up,” Nailbunny snaps

“Don’t tell me to shut up, rabbit,” D-boy snarls.

“Both of you shut up,” Johnny orders as he walks over and pushes D-boy out of the way.

“Hey,” he whines, but Johnny ignores him and presses his foot on the floor where he was standing.

“What are you doing?” Sickness asks.

“The floor sounds different here,” he replies, “and it feels…softer.”

Everyone gathers around him curiously as he kneels down and tugs at the carpeting. A square section of it pulls away, revealing a door in the floor.

“Ha!” Johnny cheers victoriously and grins at Devi. “Told you there was a basement.”

“Let’s check it out,” Shmee says as he kneels down and opens the door.

Immediately, four small balls fly out and roll by everyone’s feet. They flinch with surprise as the balls begin expelling dark smoke that fills the room.

“Don’t…breathe…” Squee tries to croak but it’s too late. Everyone quickly passes out, except for Zim and Tak.

“Hopeless humans,” she grunts.

“Whoever’s down there, show yourself!” Zim barks into the hole, pointing his laser guns.

There’s no response. Zim and Tak inch forward and peek into the hole.

Two pairs of wire zip out of the hole and jab into their foreheads. They convulse as electricity travel through the bodies and into the PAKs before collapsing.

A head wearing a gas mask pokes out of the hole. A person climbs out, glancing around at everyone unconscious at their feet.

Then a hand lashes out and grabs their ankle.

They cry out with surprise as they fall over and see Johnny crawling through the smoke, his pupils contracted to slits as he wheezes angrily.

The person jams their stun gun into his wrist, and he convulses from the shock, but doesn’t loosen his grip. The person mewls fearfully as they try to scramble away.

“Relax,” a voice says in Korean. “He may be stronger, but he’s still human.”

The person stops panicking and watches as Johnny gets more and more limp before finally passing out.

The person looks at the figure half standing out of the hole. She grins with a mouth full of fangs. “Told you.”

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #johnny the homicidal maniac #johnny the homicidal maniac fanfiction #iz jthm crossover #myart #myocs

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chenyeemultiply · 6 months

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Flat

this is what i am feeling today

unmotivated, lonely, frustration, uninspired, my mind was everywhere.

there are so many things i need to do but i don't want to do it

there many thing that i want to do but can't find the right place to start doing it

im starting to feel like i've been pushed to do many things that i dont want to do lately. things just get ordered on me and i've been reluctant to do them, or i just do it because it is my job. i have no will to do it from my heart. i simply complete a task at a standard that i want to keep, or based on the standard when i was most passionate. and that probably has caused me a lot of stress and dissatisfaction, and feeling burnt-out lately.

plus the computer is old, some keys on the keyboard are getting unresponsive. on the other hand, i am so annoyed by keyboard on the laptop giving me double spacing, which is troublesome. maybe I should bring it to fix already RM750 byebye? and if i am going to get the new imac, another RM6K to 10K will fly out, considering I will need to get apple care, the accessories and also software. not sure how much can i get to trade in my old imac though. i do not have space for that for sure. oh my god and it is going to take time to transfer everything from old to new mac. because i want to sort out things that i don't need anymore.

and then i felt really lonely, i need a hug.

and then i walked into the kitchen and the stove and floor were wet, the wall is dirty and the windows greasy and dusty. i want to change that, repaint the wall, get a new stove cabinet and a new wall protection, no more cardboard or aluminium please. and if i could get a kitchen hood i would too.

the next time i bump into cleaning lady at the condo, i'm going to ask her if she can help clean the house. i want someone to help wipe down all the windows, doors and anything that has greasy dust or black mold on it. i don't want to waste my time getting frustrated over it. or hearing my mom complain about it. i want to change the kitchen. fix the fridge, fix the water heater, get rid of cockroaches, change the bathroom doors.

maybe when i get back to swimming again i will find more motivation to do things. right now im just lacking will power. hate to socialise. want to sleep as much as i can. want to work with new people. want to work with smart and inspiring people.

please give me an access to reach a god designer to take my place in my full time job because i'm dread going there. i cant focus and unmotivated to do any work there. i dont want to go and clean things everytime i'm there, losing my energy feeling everything needs to be clean, and yes they do because it is always so dusty.

i just want to stay home alone most of the time, or go somewhere that i can work quietly and efficiently. whoever in the house please don't come and talk to me to distract me, i feel annoyed.

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shtern-and-art · 3 years

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"Skeppy will probably cry" "Bad will probably cry". Bish, screw, that I am crying!!!

This whole thing was bloody gorgeous and I wasn't expecting that ending. I had no clue what ending to expect but that was definitely better than any I could have hoped for. Forest spirit to soulmate your honour!

I was terrified that you were gonna leave it at the point where he loses the spirit and becomes mortal again. If you had I would be actively sobbing!!!! And oh my god, the art!!! I still can't get over how wonderful your style is.

Imma ask fun things because if I don't I'll sit in a puddle of emotion all night:

What's the first tech thing Bad will buy and how annoying will he be about it? Poor Skeppy trying to answer 101 questions about something he doesn't really use XD.

Is no one concerned that the odd couple from a town they never name has a pet wolf??

Do they immediately go over to a different town or do they wander for a while. Find hidden creeks and befriend bears?

Does Bad still have a connection to nature and animals, like are creatures naturally more trusting of him?

Do they ever visit the og town again?

Does Skeppy still cause absolute chaos in other towns or has he learnt his lesson and only causes minor trouble now?

Does Bad ever try and study again? If he did what would he study and would Skeppy try to study as well?

Does Skeppy steal? I dunno, he just give off the vibe of a naughty lil trickster who'll pocket something if the owner refuses to sell it him.

Immediately after leaving the forest what the first 'argument' they have (not including the car one)?

Would they ever ride horse? If yes, how terrified would Skeppy be?

Skeppy falls outta tree. I don't know why but my mind keeps telling me that this man has great balance until he climbs trees. They are his mortal enemy and Bad finds this both hilarious and terrifying because he is going to hurt himself.

I had waaaaay more questions than I intended to have. My bad '^_^ but this story was way too much fun to read and you are entirely to blame for making it so engaging!

Make sure to take care of yourself and do stretches after and during drawing. You don't wanna hurt yourself <3

AaaaI’m so glad you liked it! :D And, dang, man, I cried while writing that part too :D

And I promised a nice ending for the main story, I did, and this one also makes the most sense narratively! For the story I wanted to tell, at least. Bad can’t really become human again, he’s changed to much. He can only move on, and do something with what he is, and has. And he did! :D That’s really nice and inspiring, this story will always have a place in my heart, heheh <3

Being a guardian spirit connected to a person and all, Bad may be not as strong as before, but he can’t die unless Skeppy dies first. And Skeppy can do that, but he’s pretty sturdy, and his lifespan operates on a whole other scale than human ones. And Bad knowing Skeppy’s real name balances it all out, makes them equal in the power and influence they have over each other.

So hellyeah, soulmates for the win :DDD

I’ll answer all questions under the cut, and this close up from one of the pages!

1) What's the first tech thing Bad will buy and how annoying will he be about it?

Probably a pager! Because it’s a more feasible thing to get than a wholeass computer Bad actually wanted :D An it means Skeppy will have to get one too, and that Bad will be having the time of his life texting him and everyone he can get a number from, even if they’re still in the room with him.

Poor Skeppy indeed, he can learn to appreciate the pagers, and later phones, too, and computers, but he really has 0 idea on how it all works and why Bad is so fascinated by it all.

2) Rat and regular people

Oh, she can shapeshift, just like Bad! If they’re out with people around, she takes form of a puppy, and Bad can pass her off as a weird mix breed rescue doggo.

3) Do they immediately go over to a different town or do they wander for a while?

Oh, since they have no end destination in mind, they can ride around for a bit, go visit some cool places and roadside attractions. Sadly, Skeppy is probably not spiritually or morally ready to full on befriend wild bears yet, and they do need money for gas and snacks. So, at some point they will have to stop somewhere and find work – at least for a bit, to save up. Life’s gonna be a bit complicated with all that, until Skeppy figures out his treasure-finding abilities :DD

4) Bad and nature and animals

He is definitely still in tune with all wildlife! Even more – Bad could become a proper guardian spirit for Skeppy in part because, in a way, Skeppy himself is part of the nature.

So yeah, Bad can understand animals (and plants) and communicate with them; they’re just more free to not take his shit, and Bad’s emotions do not “possess” them unless he makes an effort to do so.

He doesn’t like doing it, tho.

5) Do they ever visit the og town again?

Hm, I think they will completely forget about it for a while, until, like, 30+ years later they will be going somewhere, and find themselves around those parts. And they try to not appear too often in the areas they’ve spent a lot of time in already (they can be pretty recognizable, and also barely show signs of aging). But it’s been a long time, and the town’s really different now… So they make a stop, and spend a day there. They walk the unfamiliar streets between the new buildings, check out the popular hiking trail, the advertisements for hot springs and winter activities. The old cinema is still there, and is hosting an all-night marathon of classic horror movies of the last century.

Bad and Skeppy leave the town after sunset – the day was nice, but they have nothing more to do there. They ride through the forest on a well paved road, with radio playing something barely above the whisper. And in the dark of hot summer night, Bad can see the white stag running between the trees alongside their car. Shadows dance over the shimmering light of it’s fur.

Somewhere after the towns border, the stag disappears back in the forest. But the air in the car stays light and fresh, saving the smell of old pines and dry leaves all though the night.

6) Skeppy and chaos

Well, after the whole mess in the main story, Skeppy definitely learned some lessons, especially about not being a dick :D

But the thing is – he can’t really help the fact that things tend to stir up around him a lot. He naturally brings in chaos into everything, because he is, in part, a personification, or an outlet for it in the world. And so, to feel, well and good, and himself Skeppy gotta do stuff that disrupts balance, and creates some mayhem. And in gave him a lot of trouble in early life, but in the course of the main story he learned that he can chose were he lets that chaos to take hold, learned what can come of that chaos, apart from utter misery.

Like, where it can help dismantle something destructive, and where – bring in the more positive change, that was already brewing, possible, but is stagnant for some reason.

Soooo, I can’t say Skeppy causes only minor chaos in his life, but he sure learns even more about not being a dick :DDDD

7) The studying

I think Bad will want to get a higher education at some point, because he wanted to, and because it’s already new millennia and all that. Bet he’ll go for something very technical and/or literature. Maybe he’ll start by piking up some classes in small time colleges, when they stop in one place for a while, and later get into an online program, because why not.

Skeppy is not a college guy at all. He’ll listen to Bad talk about it, read textbooks if he wants to, can research stuff, buuut going to classes and doing homework is definitely not his thing.

8) Stealing

Well, you’re right, Skeppy can and will steal stuff out of spite! And will be scolded by Bad for it, and will not feel (that) sorry about it. But real stealer between them will be Bad himself :D

It’s just… he has the corvid tendencies, and a hoard (a box) of sentimental mementos from different people and events, and the thrill of stealing something small and harmless is very exciting. Bad is very proud of his little collection. Skeppy finds it very adorable, a bit hypocritical, and kinda creepy. Like, that pretty box he gifted Bad at some point is now full of stuff like:

- pressed flower from the clearing they had a picnic at on their anniversary

- the button the waitress lost that one day the storm caused a black out in the whole town

- some small animal bones

- couple pretty rocks Bad stole from Skeppy’s pockets

- penny that was once glued to the ground

- a handful of teeth people (and not people) lost in fights with Bad

- pen from some fancy hotel

- rainbow dash keychain that belonged to a child

- the list goes on

9) Argument

Oh, that same day they’ll fight over whether they should stay at the really crappy and suspicious looking motel, or go sleep in a perfectly fine forest near the road. Ironically, Bad wanted to try out the motel (because, yay, first time spending the night back in civilization), and Skeppy was the one insisting on sleeping in nature (because the motel looks like it could give you 10 diseases if you even stand near it, and sleeping in the forest is kind of nice, and means they can cuddle).

10) Horses

The guys will probably ride them at some point. Well, Bad will ride, and Skeppy will sit on his horse and hope it knows what to do and where to go, because trying to make this giant thing do something seems dangerous. If they’ll have to actually go somewhere fast, Skeppy will not survive that day, his butt (and legs) will be dead for days to come.

And riding with Bad on one horse may sound romantic and nice, but all romance dies when the gallop starts.

11) Skeppy and climbing

Skeppy is more down to earth kind of guy, more of a “rocks and caves” kind of creature, real-life lizard person or something. Up on the trees and in the air – not really his element, yeah. But it doesn’t mean that Skeppy will accept this fact easy. The embarrassment of never managing to safely make it down a tree is too strong, he just has to do it all over again, and again. And again. Because, clearly, he was distracted this time. And the time before that Bad was teasing him, and it “disrupted his flow”. And, really, maybe these trees here just do not like Skeppy much, and make him slip a lot. Yeah.

So, more often than not, if Skeppy climbs a tree, he will not stop climbing it until he falls, or the tree ends. Bad had to take him off high branches couple times, forcefully, because, of course, Skeppy was sitting there for 2 hours just to properly enjoy the sunset. He can climb down at any point, he just Choses not to. The view is amazing. The bark is literally part of his skin now, not because he holds on tight, no, he’s just Than Much one with the nature )<

---

Don’t apologize for the questions! It’s always so fun to answer them, and it makes me think more about stuff I may have skipped, or didn’t think about before. It’s really nice :3c

Again, thank you for the ask, and for being here for this story! <3

(And I’ll try setting timers for rest breaks while I draw, mb that will help)

---

In The Dark - masterpost

#mcyt #mcyt fanart #badboyhalo #skeppy #skephalo #In The Dark #it's so hot here #my laptop's keyboard is like a stove #=c=#shtern talks

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 2)

Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday (Part 1) Friday Saturday Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: panic attacks, swearing, puking, concussions, mentions of injuries/bullying, homophobia

Word count: 5,138

After school, you were sitting on the couch as you furiously typed on your keyboard at an extremely fast pace. You were on a roll with these essays, they were probably going to be finished by the time you had to go back to the school to get on the bus with the team. You figured that you could even finish Annie’s essay and get started on Sammy’s US history presentation on the sociopolitical climate of the United States in the mid twentieth century to today. However, instead of covering a variety of topics like the rubric requested you to do, you were only going to talk about the significant events that happened to the LGBT+ community starting with Stonewall and going to Obergefell v. Hodges. You were also going to go in depth about how even if there are more opportunities available and more laws set in place to protect for LGBT+ people in the present then there were in past, members of the LGBT+ community still suffer heavy discrimination in the workplace and in the public. With receipts of course, the assignment required a minimum of three pictures per slide, and the group chat was a perfect source.

After that was done, you would email Sammy’s teacher (you had her last year for US history and you knew that she had a son in the grade below you currently transitioning from female to male) that you were the one that did her project and send screenshots of Sammy calling you slurs. Luckily for you, you had receipts of her being transphobic in the past that you could also send. Everything was effortlessly falling into place for you today.

As you were typing, the front door swung open and two overly excited fifth graders ran into the house and up the stairs. A tired Schlatt followed them. “I will never know how the hell Phil keeps up with them.”

“I dunno, maybe because he’s already raised three kids before.”

You watched as your uncle jumped and whipped his head over towards you, his hand clutching his chest. He lightly glared at you, “christ kid don’t do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

You smirked at him before turning back to your laptop to continue typing the essay. You were almost done with the conclusion paragraph on Annie’s essay and you wanted to get to Sammy’s presentation as fast as possible. As you were typing, you felt a warm air fan across your neck and your uncle’s voice right next to your ear, “whatcha typin?”

You lept off the couch and almost fell into the coffee table before steadying yourself and deadpanning at Schlatt. “I was typing an essay before you interrupted me.”

He snorted, “it looked like you were on a roll, just thought I’d see what my beloved niece was writing. Can I read it?”

Your eyes lit up as an excited grin split your cheeks, “yeah, but lemme catch you up real quick. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie got mad at me a few days ago and wanted me to do some homework for them as a sort of payment. But after they pulled that little stunt in the lunchroom yesterday, they decided to be little bitches to me and call me slurs. So naturally, I decided to change the essay prompt into an in depth analysis about discrimination LGBT people face from their peers on the daily. My english teacher’s really against homophobia and the project’s worth twenty five percent of our overall grade, so it’s perfect.”

While you were rambling on and on about your detailed plot for revenge, Schlatt couldn’t help but be proud of the person you’d become. A major part of him was impressed that you came up with a detailed plan so quickly, that meant that his cunning nature was rubbing off on you and that made him ecstatic. Sure you mentioning not being straight was new to him, but he was prepared to accept you for whatever you identified as. He didn’t care how people identified, he just cared if they were good people. And his niece was one of the best kids he knew. He’d let your slip up slide for now until you felt comfortable enough to properly come out to him.

“That an amazing plan, fuckin brilliant. Though, you could do more.”

That piqued your interest, “I’m listening.”

“Do you have any blackmail?”

Your eyes glinted with sudden understanding, “why yes I do, uncle dearest. I just so happen to have thousands of texts from them talking shit about each other and basically the entire school. And them being incredibly racist. They would be destroyed if that came out.”

“Two things. One, never call me that again. Two, perfect. Keep it as leverage if they try to do something. You don’t pull out all the good cards in the first round, you wait for the right moment to strike so you can win. You need to constantly defend yourself against other players and anticipate their every move. If you leak everything right now, you won’t have anything to use against them if they have something up their sleeve you didn’t know about. Patience is key in things like this.”

You absorbed every single word that came out of his mouth like it was the holy gospel. Although he was your uncle and you loved him with all your heart, but he was a sly bastard when he wanted to be. He knew his way around fighting and manipulating people just right, so you were incredibly happy that you were on his good side and he absolutely adored you. Though questionable and morally gray, he was giving you advice because he cared about you and you’d be an idiot to not heed his advice.

“That’s genius, Uncle Schlatt. What would I do without you?”

“You’d get along just fine without me, you would’ve gotten there eventually. You’re smart. I’m just givin you a little push in the right direction.”

“I honestly would’ve never thought about waiting, I was so dead set on getting revenge that I would’ve just leaked everything all at once. I want them to feel how I felt when they were around me. I-” you paused. Would this make you the same as them? You’d be screwing up all their grades, Adrian’s job, and Sammy’s athletic career. You came to the chilling realization that you’d be the same as them. You’d be as manipulative as they were. “...Uncle Schlatt, would that make me the same as them?”

“Fuck no! You’re always gonna be better than them no matter what. When they’re at their best, you’re always gonna be a whole lot better than them. They deserve what’s happening to them, it sounds like they put you through so much shit the past few years. I actually think you could do a whole lot worse to them if you’re willing to put more work in, but it’s your plan and if you think that what you’re doing is too much,” he darkly chuckled, “you wouldn’t like my idea.”

“You’re right, they deserve everything I have planned for them. God, I don’t know what I was thinking, ‘would that make me the same as them,’” you mocked what you said earlier, “what a load of shit. Anyways, thanks Uncle Schlatt. I’m gonna get back to writing this. They’re due tomorrow and I wanna finish as much as I can before I have to go.”

“Alright, whaddya want for dinner? Phil’s gonna be like thirty minutes late from work so I’m cookin tonight.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no. That man can barley cook boxed mac n cheese, let alone anything else. He’d burn down the house if you left him alone in the kitchen with the stove. “On second thought, why don’t I help you with dinner? We can make some chicken alfredo.”

“Awe, you’d rather hang out with me than finish your homework? Ya really do love me. C’mon let’s start.”

The process of making dinner was… interesting. Multiple times, Schlatt almost spilled boiling water on himself and he even managed to burn the pasta while it was in the water. How he even managed to do that you’d never find out, you had your back turned cutting up vegetables and herbs at the time. That was when you subtly started to take over in the kitchen, giving him smaller tasks while you handled everything else. You felt bad for Tubbo, his father can’t cook for shit.

By time you finished, about an hour passed and Philza had come home and changed out of his work clothes. The two adults sat at the table discussing something that you didn’t pay attention to while your brothers and cousin were in the living room waiting for you to finish dinner. Finally, you set the table and it was time to eat.

Because you couldn’t have many fatty foods before any matches or practices, you had made a separate plate for yourself that only had plain pasta, chicken, and broccoli. You were surprised with how well it turned out, you were following an iffy recipe you found on the first link Google brought up.

After dinner, you went upstairs to put your uniform on and pack a little bag full of things you might need: a small blanket, some snacks, a water bottle, and a portable charger. Oh, and fuzzy socks and a pair of crocs. You could never go wrong with fuzzy socks and crocs. Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you pulled out your phone.

Hales : )

(Y/n), I’m omw to your house

Gonna give you a ride to the school

(Y/n)

Hales you don’t have to give me a ride, I can drive

Hales : )

Don’t care

Omw, be there in like 7 mins

You swiped out of yours and her conversation and opened up the family group chat

(Y/n)

I don’t need a ride to the school, Haley’s giving me one

She’s gonna give me a ride home too

Dadza

Alright, thank her for me

Tell her I said good luck too!

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Dadza

(Y/n), do everything he wouldn’t do

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck you I’m a good influence

Dadza

You’re really not

Wilby

^^^^

Technology Sword

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck all of you

You heard Haley’s car pull into the driveway and dashed out of your room with your bag. Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, a hand stopped you.

“Coat.”

You grumbled as you reached past Philza to grab your coat. After you slipped it on, you were pulled into a hug. “You’re gonna do great out there. I know you’re gonna win this, we’ll be watching in the stands.”

“Damn right she’s gonna do good, she’s my niece after all.”

Schlatt pulled you away from your father’s hug and tried to ruffle your hair before you swatted away his hand, “don’t. You have no idea how long it took me to get a perfect ponytail. I have an ungodly amount of hairspray and bobby pins in my hair right now.”

“Fine. You’re gonna kick their asses tonight.”

Tommy and Tubbo pushed past Schlatt and both tackled you into a hug making you stumble slightly back.

“Kick their asses good (y/n)!” Tommy cheered, making you crack up before one stern glance from Philza completely stopped you. “Tommy, don’t say that. (Y/n), not funny.”

“Alright, Haley’s waiting for me. I gotta go, love you guys!” As you turned to walk through the door, you could hear your family following you and shouting “good luck”. You felt heat creep up on your cheeks as Haley rolled down her window and wove at your family with the biggest grin on her face.

“Thank you! We’re gonna take home the gold for sure!”

You hopped in her car as she rolled up the window and chuckled. “I love your family, they’re always so full of energy. It’s refreshing to see compared to how boring my family is.”

You glanced at your entire family gathered on the front porch. Tommy and Tubbo were practically vibrating with excitement, Wilbur and Techno calmly smiled and wove at you, Philza was grinning widely at you as you saw his mouth forming words that you couldn’t hear or read, and Schlatt was grinning cheekily at you. You raised your hand to wave at them as they vanished from view when Haley pulled out of your driveway. You smiled softly, “I love em too.”

The car ride was relatively quick with the same soft indie pop music floating from the speakers and an easy going conversation with Haley about the match tonight. You both thought that you could beat the other team if everyone focused 100% and played exactly like you guys did in practices. If everyone did that, you would be unstoppable.

Luckily for you and Haley, you were the first ones in line to board the bus so you two got the back seat with Zara and Jazzy sitting across from you guys. The hour long bus ride passed quickly and lively with you four passing around your phone and playing some mad libs, you were sure that by the end of the last game you four were laughing and crying. Sometime in the middle of the trip, you noticed that Haley would start to lean on your shoulder and continuously glance at you as she laughed. You desperately wanted to believe that it was because she liked you, but she was straight and she was your best friend. She was probably trying to make sure you were having a good time.

When the team had gotten to the opposing school and left the locker room to stretch in the gym, you could hear your family start to scream your and Haley’s names from the front row next to you, Tommy and Tubbo being the loudest amongst them with Philza trying to get them to quiet down so you could focus. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled at them and Haley wove enthusiastically back at them. Zara was laughing at you two. Stretching went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were on the court facing the opposing team.

The first match was won by the opposing team by five points. The second match stretched on and on until it was won by your team narrowly by two points. The team was going to have to shape up in the third match if you guys wanted a chance at winning, the opposing team was good. Before the third match started, Coach Williams called for a time out so you guys could talk about strategy. Before Haley could go back onto the court, you pulled her aside.

“Hales, we need to do what we practiced. The other team won’t be expecting it at all, I’ve been setting you up this entire game. They’re never going to expect you setting me up for a spike.”

“When are we going to do it though? We need a better plan.”

“I’m sure the opportunity will come and both of us will recognize it. We just can’t do it too early in the game though, that’ll ruin their surprise.”

“(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“When do I not Hales? We gotta get gold this year.”

The third round went by with both teams constantly swapping places until you both were tied fifteen to fifteen. You saw the ball flying towards Haley, giving her the perfect opportunity to set you up for a spike. “HALEY NOW!”

You watched as her face hardened in determination as she pretended like she was going to spike it by jumping high in the air and stretching her arms back, making the opposing front row players all gather in front of her. Much to their surprise, she launched it towards you as you leaped up and went for the kill. The stinging of the ball hit by your wrist and the smack sound the ball made when it slammed onto the open gym floor was something you’d never forget as the crowd around you went wild over the unexpected play. You could hear the high pitched screaming of Tommy and Tubbo over everybody else. Glancing at them over your shoulder, you saw them jumping up and down on the gym floor and looking at you with awe filled eyes and gaping mouths. The rest of your family looked at you with similar expressions, their cheers echoing in your mind. Winking at them, you turned back to your team and went straight to Haley. Clapping a hand on her shoulder, you pulled her into a quick hug, yelling over the raving of the crowd. “HALEY WE NAILED THAT!”

“HOLY SHIT I DID NOT THINK THAT WAS ACTUALLY GONNA WORK!”

“You have such little faith in your setter! You wound me Hales.”

“Well, I would have more faith in you if you weren’t chaotic on the court, sweetheart.”

You felt yourself surge in happiness at the nickname, but you couldn’t afford to focus too much on it. Your team only needed one more point to win best in the state and go to nationals. It would be the first time in your team’s history if you reached national level, and you’d be damned if you were the one to screw it up for them.

The last rotation went on for a while, each team fighting tooth and nail for the state championship title with clashing determination. You tried your best to block every hit and try to set Haley up for a spike, and you were successful for the most part, only missing a few blocks. You saw the setter adjacent to you set the spiker up for a spike and jumped up in time to try to block it, your arms stretched upwards and your palms out. Only, the ball didn’t hit your hands. It collided painfully with your nose, ricocheted off your face with a thwack and sailed over to the other side of the court. Your head whipped back as your body followed suit and flew backwards onto the floor. Without giving you any time to react, your head bounced back and cracked against the polished hardwood floor of the gym. Everything went black.

“...(y……”

“..(y/n)......”

“(Y/n).”

You faintly heard someone calling someone’s name over the continuous ringing noise. Was it your name? It felt right, so it had to be your name. You peeled your eyes open to see a blurry figure hovering over you. It was swirled with tans, browns, and backs. After a while of the figure repeating your name, it slowly became more recognizable, albeit appearing twice in your vision. It took you a while to figure out who this was before your muddled brain recognized Haley.

“Hales! There’s two o’ya. Twice as beautiful babe…” You slurred out as you attempted to smile at her.

“Oh thank god, PLEASE WE NEED A DOCTOR SHE HIT HER HEAD!” Her usually angelic voice gritted against your brain like sandpaper making you cringe as pain exploded in your head.

“God babe you’re so loud, why’s so bright? I-wha's goin on?” You blearily tried to move your head to look around only to be stopped by a pair of large hands on each side of your head gently holding it in place. You moved your laggy eyes around to look at the figure. He was a blonde man with blue eyes and a hint of stubble on his chin. His eyebrows were knitted together and he looked… he looked… your brain worked to figure out why he looked how he looked. Who was he?

“Please don’t move hun.” His muffled voice was baritone. You squinted at him trying to figure out who this man was.

“Who th f-fuck… why?”

“I’m your dad hun. Do-do you not recognize me?” You made a noise in the back of your throat as your stuffy brain finally put a name to the face.

“Dad- wha’s goin on? I’on feel so good…”

“Shh, I know, I know. Just stop moving and talking. Everything’s fine. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Mmk… Dad, where are we? I’ont know- you’re so quiet.”

“Stop moving so much. You’re on the floor in a gym. You just won your team the state championship. Now stop talking please.”

Huh. So that’s why everybody seemed to appear from above you. You strained your eyes to look around you, but you could only see your dad’s face hovering above you. “Shit I- who’s aroun’ me? Where’s Hales?”

“I’m right here sweetheart. I got the doctor, Mr. Minecraft.”

Your dad’s face moved away from your vision so fast that it made your head spin and your stomach twist. Another face appeared above you that you once again didn’t recognize.

“I’m Doctor Martin, can you tell me your first and last name?”

“Uh, (y/n) Minecraft?”

“Good, what month are we in right now?”

“Nov-November?”

“Close, it’s late October. Can you tell me who this,” he pointed to your dad, “is?”

“S’my dad Phillip.”

“That’s your dad Philza.”

The questioning stopped as he suddenly shined a blinding light into your sensitive eyes. You hissed as you tried to move your head away from the offending light only to be held in place by your dad’s hands. Your head spun as you moved too quickly and a wave of nausea hit you, making you groan and move your arm to cover your eyes. Your hand was stopped by something warm and soft wrapping around it and holding it tightly. Everything was so overwhelmingly and painfully bright and loud. You wanted to make it stop.

“Mr. Minecraft, your daughter appears to have a concussion. I don’t have the tools on hand to determine the severity of it, but it’s worrying that her pupils are asymmetrical, she’s delirious, and has slight memory loss. I understand you live about an hour away from here, and it’s alright for you to take her to a hospital closer to your house. Make sure you keep her alert.”

Your delirious mind only registered about half of what came out of the doctor’s mouth. You mumbled gibberish as you once again opened your eyes to look around. You were only briefly able to crane your neck to the left. Several figures large and small were standing behind your dad. Your family, your mind supplemented. Slowly, your mind was starting to recognize your surroundings even if there was currently double of everything and everything was blurry.

“I’m going to help you stand up. Do ya think you can do that?”

“Yeah Dad.” You lifted your upper body off from the ground with a gentle hand on your back helping you sit up. Fighting the wave of nausea that slapped you in the face, you reached up to rub at your eyes. A hand once again stopped you. You peeked your eyelids open and lightly glared at whomever stopped you. “Hales you’re lucky you’re so cute I woulda slapped you. I like holdin but you’re bein annoying. Stop.” You attempted to make your voice sound firm, but the words that came out of your mouth were slightly slurred.

She was silent as she helped her dad haul you to your feet. Once on your feet, you saw the room spin and felt yourself start to sway slightly. An arm wrapped itself around your shoulders and pulled you close to them so that your weight was supported. They were a little taller than you were making it easy to lean on them.

“...Can you walk?” A deep, monotone voice rumbled the chest of the person you were leaning against.

“Mhm. ‘M not weak.” Though your limbs felt like they were made of molasses, you placed one foot in front of the other slowly. The person moved alongside you, “you’re doing so good, keep going.” That sparked familiarity in you as you stopped in your tracks and tried to look up at the person you were leaning against making the person tighten their arm around your shoulders when you almost fell over.

“Tech?”

“Yeah, it’s Technoblade. Just focus on walking. You’re almost out of the gym.”

When you realized that you were out of the gym, you sighed in relief. It was so much quieter and darker. Though it was still relatively bright, it was better than the gym.

“S’better.”

“When we get her to the car we can give her some sunglasses or something if it’s still too bright for her.”

“Wilbs-”

“Focus on walking.”

You huffed in irritation, “don’ tell me what to do bitch.”

You felt Techno’s body jolt slightly as he chuckled, making your head throb at the sudden movement. “Just walk.”

When you walked outside, you shivered as you felt the cool air nip at your exposed skin. Right, you were in your volleyball uniform. “I’ll go pull the car around, you guys stay with her.”

You saw a tall brunet start to walk away from you. Uncle Splat? Uncle Schmat? Whatever his name was, you were sure he was your uncle. You tried to snuggle closer to Techno, craving warmth but never being satisfied. Where was your uncle?

After a while, you saw a car moving towards you and blinding light pointed right at you making you cringe away and groan. Techno started to slowly walk towards the car. “C’mon (y/n), you’re almost there. When you’re in the car you can relax.”

“Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno, you’re in the back row. Schlatt can drive and Wil, you’re taking the passenger seat. I’ll stay with her in the middle row so she can have some room to lay down.” Tommy and Tubbo were with you? Why weren’t they talking, they usually were very vocal.

“Tom, Tubbs didja like the game?”

They didn’t say anything as they climbed into the car. Did they not hear you?

“They’re just… tired (y/n).” Your dad’s voice reassured you as he took Techno’s place holding you up.

“I wanna nap. ‘M so tired.”

“You can’t sleep yet. We gotta get you to a doctor first.”

“Mm. Makes sense.”

“Let’s get you in the car hun.”

As he helped you climb into the car, you felt an overwhelming wave of nausea wash over you making you lose your balance and almost faceplant into the cloth seats. You felt yourself being gently, yet urgently taken out of the car and led to grass as you felt your esophagus shorten. Something burning made its way up your throat and spewed into the grass. You felt someone rubbing your back as you puked up your dinner.

When you were done, you reached up with a shaking hand to wipe your mouth. “You feelin better? Think you can get back into the car or do you need to sit down for a bit?”

“Car.”

After some difficulty, you were successfully in the middle row of the car laying down with your head on Philza’s lap. Soon enough, your shoes were taken off and a blanket was draped over you.

“(Y/n), what do you remember?”

You scrunched up your face as you squinted at Philza’s face. “I remember playing volleyball with Hales. She’s so pretty, she’s straight though. I remember the other team hitting the ball, me jumping, then nothin. Wha’ happened?”

You watched as Philza winced, “well, you got everything right so far. You got hit in the face with the ball so you fell and hit your head on the floor. You were passed out for a minute before you woke up. It was a pretty nasty fall, we’re going to the hospital now. How’re ya feelin?”

“Head hurts, ‘m seein two of everything, an I can’t think.”

“Do you know what a concussion is?” You nodded in his lap slightly, “you probably have one.”

After a while of talking, you were slowly starting to come to your senses and your speech was clearing up, but your head was still too stuffy to think about what you were saying before you said it. You didn’t have a filter.

“Do you wanna tell us about your week so far? Do you remember most of it?”

“Mhm, it was shit. On Monday I had a panic attack and Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were being bitches to me all day. They fucked up my back. On Tuesday, they got mad at me for ditching them and they had me do their homework, had another panic attack, and Haley told me that someone took pictures of our boobs ‘n stuff and they were gonna leak it to the school if Haley didn’t stop hanging out with me. Haley and I almost kissed, but she’s straight. Pulled an all nighter and Wednesday I accidentally came out to Tech and Wil and had another panic attack. Annie, Adrian, and Sammy took more pictures of me through my window, Annie outed me to the entire school and slapped me. Another panic attack, skipped the last two classes and felt like shit the entire practice. Today Adrian and Sammy told me to kill myself and I had another panic attack. ’S about it.”

As you were going through your week, the hand that was previously gently stroking your hair had frozen as the car was enveloped in a tense silence. Luckily, Tommy and Tubbo were passed out in the back seat so they didn’t hear how bad your week was. Everyone awake knew that you had a few bad days this week, but they didn’t know the full extent of it. You watched as Philza’s expression had turned downright murderous, but you didn’t really care. You were busy talking about your week.

For the rest of the car ride, Philza asked you simple questions like what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, basically your favorite everything. Eventually, the car pulled into the hospital parking lot and Philza helped you get out of the car. “Schlatt, can you take the boys home so they can get some rest? I’ll stay with her.”

“Yeah, I’m on it. Don’t cause too much trouble (y/n), we all know you can raise hell.” He watched you for a reaction, but when you didn’t react, he coughed. “Well, I’ll see ya later kid. Good luck.”

The car drove off leaving you and Philza at the front of the emergency room building. “It’s gonna be a long night (y/n).”

“I gotta finish Annie’s essay and Sammy’s presentation though.”

“No you don’t, I’ll email your teachers.”

You two checked in with the front desk before moving to sit on the uncomfortable chairs. It was going to be a long night. You were so tired.

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@jabby16

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stanknotstark · 3 years

Text

Research and Dating (No They Aren’t Connected)

“So, if you could kidnap me really publicly that would be great.”

“...why?”

“I kinda forgot about this research essay due tomorrow? And like, my prof knows I’m a hero- I even brought my laptop so I can write it in your cell. Is the wifi password still the same?”

It’s Thursday at 8 P.M. and your essay is due in 4 hours. It wasn’t that you had procrastinated it’s because-nope, ya, you procrastinated. Now you were freaking out about it when the glorious idea came to you.

There were, of course, perks of being frenemies with Loki. You have visited his his base of operations before, his ‘evil lair’, been thrown into one of his cells and ‘suffered’ until he got bored of the Avengers searching for you like chickens with their heads cut off and made theatrics by showing up to them with you in his hands and ‘failing’ to keep you away from the Avengers saving you.

In all actuality, you had sat in a golden cell but Loki had sat right outside the cell with a chair and read while eating an apple. You couldn’t read the title of the book so you asked him what it was about and Loki had been a little hesitant but fell into your pure curiosity and explained what he had been reading. You’re sure he liked your curious mind as you started asking more questions and challenged the ideas the book gave. It lead to a long discussion of morals, and death, and at one point whether apples or pears were better. It was fun is what you’re trying to say.

That’s how your friendship blossomed.

So, you call up Loki, yes he has a cell phone, and ask him without explanation at first, “So could you, like, kidnap me but publicly?”

You can hear the cogs turning in Loki’s head at your request. “Why?” He asks in a smooth voice, betraying no emotion.

“I kinda forgot about this research essay due tonight? And, like, my professor knows I’m a hero. I’ll even bring my laptop so I can write in your cell, the wifi password is still the same right?” You ask Loki.

Loki sighs over the phone, you can imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose with closed eyes.

“Yes. Fine. Be at Madison Square Garden in 15 minutes.” The god says and hangs up.

You smile and pump a fist at your best friend’s save.

You’re at Madison Square Garden in record time and Loki makes his entrance a show.

You’re sitting down outside the stadium when Loki materializes from green clouds of magic that open a portal then float into the air as if they’re a sign that’s flashing the words ‘Loki is here!’ in the night sky of NYC. When he sees you he rolls his eyes but people start paying attention so you play along with his ruse.

“Loki! What mischief do you plan to get up to today? It doesn’t matter, I need to bring you in!” You yell at him, almost laughing at how stupid this all seems, and push civilians back behind you.

Loki chuckles darkly, “You. You are my mischief today, your poor Avengers will never find you. You will become my slave.” Loki says with a voice that is dark but his eyes light up with amusement.

By now hundreds of people have stopped their night to watch you and Loki, phones out and recording everything.

You smile sardonically at Loki, “Not if I-”

Loki grabs you and pulls you and teleports. When you’re at his base you sigh and pat him on the arm as he pulls from you.

“Thanks, I owe you big time Lokes.”

Loki frowns at the nick name you chose. “Please refrain from calling me that or I shall teleport you to your professor and have you face the repercussions of procrastination.” Loki threatens.

You chuckle, roll your eyes, and head to the cell. It’s just in case someone actually does pop in to ‘save’ you.

When you’ve settled in the cell Loki raises the golden barriers and magics a chair near to settle with you.

“What do they have you writing about now?” Loki asks.

You had asked him for help writing other essays because Loki has an eloquent way of speaking. You felt it made you sound smarter and because you spent consistent time with the god you had fallen into talking like him sometimes.

“It’s for my disability class, the sociology class?” You ask Loki if he remembers you telling him about it, at his nod you smile, “Ya, so basically we’re to argue whether we feel prostitution should be legal or not in America considering how much it helps the disabled.”

You laugh at Loki’s frown.

“Which side do you argue for?” Loki asks with a small squint as if trying to determine the side before you tell him.

“I believe it should be legal but have restrictions and rules. If in the wrong hands it could be really bad but at the same time if it’s in good hands it could be really good. It’s a risk but we won’t know how well it’ll work if we never try, you know?” You say with a pondering look. Loki purses his lips but nods at you.

Loki magics a book into his hands and lets you start writing away. The whole thing is very comforting to you. Sound wise, you can hear Loki let out puffs of breath when he finds something amusing in his book, Then, there’s the rhythmic tapping of your keyboard as you write. Other than that you just enjoy being with the god, even if you aren’t interacting with each other.

You’ve been harboring a crush on him for awhile but have always kept it hidden. You value his friendship too much to do anything that could jeopardize it. Not to mention, Loki hadn’t shown anything on if he likes you or not. He occasionally flirts with you in battle but that’s about it. So, you feel you know he isn’t attracted to you like that.

“Loki what’s another word for great?” You mutter.

“Glorious, grand, impressive?” The god supplies you with choices.

You hum but don’t say anything and continue typing. After you finish your paragraph you look at Loki who glances at you.

“Thanks.”

Loki smirks at his book, “Anything for you, darling.” Loki says in a low voice while reading his book.

See, the nick names had started early on. At first they had confused you but when you had been in battle and helping Tony, Loki had called Tony ‘sweetheart’ so you reasoned Loki just had a thing for nicknames. That doesn’t stop the jolt in your stomach when he does call you sweet names like that though.

You shake yourself out of your reverie and continue writing. You’re like one, maybe two, paragraphs from being done. You try your best to elongate time to hang out with Loki more but when you finish your essay you don’t have any other excuse.

That’s why, when you finish and close your laptop with a small ‘click’ and Loki stands and asks if you would like to spend time at his apartment, you’re shocked.

You stand looking at Loki with wide eyes.

Loki takes this as an answer and coughs a little, bringing a hand up to rub at his face, he’s trying to hide his embarrassment.

“I am sorry, I crossed a boundary, it won’t happen again.”

“No!” You yell, nearly dropping your laptop as you reach towards Loki. You scramble to hold it to your chest again and look at him, shyly pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I would love to. I was shocked, I always figured I’d be the first to ask.”

Loki looks at you a little doubtfully but sees the truth in your answer and smirks. Instead of replying he waves a hand and the barriers disappear then he holds his hand out to you. You gladly take it and suddenly you’re both standing in a tidy apartment.

It’s very modern and looks costly. The furniture is all contemporary and different shades of white, brown, and gray, with the occasional splash of emerald green in throw blankets and decorative pillows. You don’t really notice but Loki still holds your hand.

Loki pulls you by his hand towards his kitchen and puts a kettle of water on on the heating stove top.

“Tea? Or are you more of a coffee person?” Loki asks you with a glance as he pulls out his tea. You finally realize Loki has yet to let go of your hand but you’re not going to complain.

“I love both, but tea will be good for now.” You say lightly, glancing down at your clasped hands when Loki isn’t looking. A small blush heats up your cheeks and you let a stupid smile cross your lips.

You and Loki settle against his bar, still holding hands, while you wait for the water to heat in the kettle.

“I never had the chance to ask but why are you studying psychology and sociology? I figured a superhero’s salary would be quite enough to live comfortably? Don’t tell me they under pay you.” Loki asks, his tone laced with a threat when he says the last part.

You chuckle. “No, it pays well enough, enough to pay my way through school. I want to help people though, that’s what makes me truly happy. So, naturally, psychology and sociology were natural choices because they help me understand people, the way they think, how they tick, so I can better help them.” You explain.

You look up at Loki who looks at you with an unreadable emotion on his face. Loki then brings a hand up, tucks a rogue lock behind your ear and keeps his hand there. “You are too precious for this world.” He whispers as he looks at you. You feel you cheeks heat up and can’t keep eye contact with Loki.

Loki clears his throat and drops his hand from your face, looking away from you as well. However, he doesn’t stop holding your hand. You feel your hand become clammy from nerves and hope this doesn’t gross out Loki. At the thought your hand twitches in his and Loki merely squeezes your hand.

“What other hobbies do you favor, seeing as they obviously kept you preoccupied enough to procrastinate your paper?” Loki asks.

You smile at the ground because you realize Loki is trying to better know you.

You look up at Loki again, who is already looking at you. “Well, surprisingly enough research and reading are my main hobbies.”

“Oh?”

“I love learning so I read up on whatever subject pulls at my attention at the moment.”

“And what draws at your attention right now?” Loki asks curious.

You flush and look at the ground, kicking it softly with the toe of your shoe. You mutter the answer.

Loki chuckles, brings his free hand up to tilt your face till you look at him. “Say that one more time, where I can hear it darling.”

“Norse mythology.” You say softly, embarrassed.

Loki’s eyebrows lift in shock. The look on his face showing that he did not expect that answer at all.

Thankfully the kettle begins whistling and causes the moment to be broken and forgotten.

Loki makes a cup of tea for the both of you and you both move to his living room, seated on his couch. You’re both sitting close enough to touch at the legs but don’t hold hands anymore. You set your mug on the coffee table in front of you, too hot to hold. Loki however basks in the heat of his cup, his hands wrapped around the mug as if he has just come in from a blizzard.

“I have plenty of texts you may borrow if you want to learn about the true mythology.” Loki offers, looking at you calculatingly.

You had hoped Loki would drop the subject seeing as your research was drawn from your want to learn more about Loki than actual Norse mythology.

Whatever, shoot your shot, right?

“I’d much rather hear your tales than anyone else’s.” You say, your hands picking at your jeans with nerves.

Loki hums with a small smile as he takes a sip of his tea. “Of course, darling. There is no better way to learn than from the source of such tales.” Loki says smugly.

You feel a smile break over your lips as you look at Loki who basks in his arrogance.

“I better watch out, stroking your ego,” You say, Loki raising a brow at your mischievous smirk, “Otherwise you might start sounding like Thor.” You say to knock Loki down a peg. Loki scoffs with a roll of his eyes but you don’t miss the twitch of his lips.

“Do not compare me to my oaf of a brother.” Loki says, finally setting his mug of tea down, resting his hands in his lap. You also don’t miss the twitch of his hands, as if they want to reach out towards you.

There are too many signs that Loki obviously likes you, it’s almost overwhelming, but you keep yourself pulled together before you ask him the question.

“You know, I’m just kind of going out on a limb here, but uh...You ever plan to ask me out, take me on some romantic dinner or something or do I need to give more incentive?” You say, the confidence in your voice a facade because inside you’re freaking out.

Loki keeps a blank face as you look at him. Then, he lets a smirk break out over his lips, glances at his tea but his eyes come back to yours.

“Is that such a good idea? Considering you are still my enemy?” Loki asks.

You grab your tea so you have something to do with your hands, sipping from the earthy, spicy liquid. You let yourself think, letting his question roll off your shoulders and shrug. “I could care less what the Avengers think but we can keep our relationship hidden if that would keep you happy?”

Loki purses his lips, his eyes squinting at you. “They would cage you, would they not? If they knew you were fraternizing with the enemy?”

“Yes, but I have no doubt you’d let them keep me for long.” You smile at Loki who huffs out laughter.

“You truly want me?” Loki asks. You don’t fail to hear the insecurity in his tone.

You set your tea down, grab both of Loki’s hands in yours and look at him, baring all your emotions on your face. “More than you will ever know.”

Loki squeezes your hands with a soft tilt of his lips.

“Then I suppose it is inevitable. Shall we partake in a date tomorrow night, say seven?”

You smile at Loki. “I would love to, Lokes.”

Loki rolls his eyes at the nickname but you know he doesn’t mind it, much.

Needless to say, you were granted an extension of time to turn in your essay while also scoring a date with your crush.

#research and dating (no they aren't connected)#loki x reader #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #so like i started writing this before my writing had truly developed into what it is now #so the first part might be a bit iffy and stuff #i tried to fix it but i don't think i did so #anyways im not completely upset with how it turned out #reader insert #my writing #prompt

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silversatoru · 3 years

Text

birthdays don’t have to suck

fushiguro megumi x f!reader (elli)

synopsis: you get really sick on your birthday, but megumi makes sure that you still have a good day :))

t/w: fluff, reader is sick, vomiting, medicine (tylenol lol), some details pertain specifically to elli

wc: 2.2k

a/n: a small birthday present for the love of my life @megumifushi who never sleeps enough and is always sick,, i love u and i hope ur days not too bad <3

you stared into your dimly lit laptop, red eyes squinting at the black text that sped across the screen as your fingers scrambled against the keys. you weren’t even sure that what you were writing was comprehensible at this point, but your essay that was due tomorrow morning wasn’t gonna write itself. at this point it just needed to get done, concerns of quality were thrown out the window hours ago.

aside from the burning and stinging in your eyes, your entire body ached, and you were ridden with chills and goosebumps. seemed like a fever was coming on, but you didn’t have the time or capacity to care about that right now. you’d pop a few tylenol and crawl into bed in a couple hours, and everything would be better tomorrow.

what time was it anyway? it couldn’t possibly be that late yet, right?

you glanced to the corner of the screen, eyes falling on a bright 3:56am that made your heart sink and your eyes widen. you had a terrible habit of losing track of time and staying up into ungodly hours of the night — a habit that your wonderful boyfriend was trying so terribly hard to break.

you glanced to your left and took in his sleeping form, his lips parted ever so slightly as he took small breaths of air. he’d be disappointed and upset with you if he knew how horrid your sleep schedule had been lately, and he’d probably blame your chills and headaches on your lack of sleep as well — which in all fairness was probably pretty accurate.

“i’ll just finish this up real quick and then i promise i’ll sleep, ‘kay gumi?” you spoke softly, running your fingers through his soft, spiky hair.

he was undisturbable, his mind off somewhere in a dreamland that was quite the distance from your small bedroom. and that was probably for the better, because him nagging at you to go to sleep would be too distracting for you to get your work done.

your hands moved rapidly against the keyboard for about another hour, words spilling onto the screen until you finally hit the page requirement for your paper. it was probably terrible, most likely had a few words spelled wrong, and honestly you were pretty certain you’d repeated yourself several times, but fuck it — submit. you were typically an excellent student, so one bad paper wouldn’t kill you, and you were too tired and achy to care right now.

you got up and placed your laptop onto your desk, plugging it in and letting a heavy sigh fall from your lips as you made your way back over to the bed. the soft blankets were therapeutically warm on your chilly skin as you crawled in against megumi’s back, effectively turning him into the little spoon and pressing your nose to the back of his neck. thankfully, sleep found you shortly after, your eyes fluttering shut as you drifted off into a much needed slumber.

babe

wake up

babe

you woke up to small finger pokes to your cheek from megumi, his face laced with concern as your vision finally focused on his features. he bent over and pressed his lips to your forehead, pausing there for a fraction of a second and then standing back up.

“i think you have a fever. i noticed when i woke up and you felt like a fucking space heater,” he frowned, confirming your initial suspicions from last night, “i’ll go get some medicine”.

you groggily nodded your head, shivers coursing through your body and dotting your extremities with goosebumps. your condition had definitely deteriorated overnight, your eyes stinging and a horrible nausea creeping up your throat.

by the time he returned with the medicine you had yourself propped up against the pillows, thick blankets pulled up to your chin in an attempt to minimize the icy feeling in your body. he handed two small tylenol tablets to you with a disappointed look on his face — a look that said: i’m gonna kick your ass for not getting enough sleep again.

“i’ll let everyone know you’re not feeling well enough to go out tonight,” he hummed as he handed you a glass of water, your brain filling with thick fog as you tried to decipher why he would need to let anyone know you were sick.

the look of pure confusion signaled to him that you had no idea what he was talking about, megumi shaking his head before he spoke up again, “it’s your birthday, dumbass, we were supposed to get food and stuff with yuuji, inumaki, and nobara and maki”.

birthday

forgetting about that was another habit you continued to succumb to every year.

“mm, shit,” you sighed after drinking back the pills, “i forgot”.

“figured you would,” megumi clicked his tongue, “but i didn’t, because i’m a good boyfriend. can you drag yourself out to the kitchen? you should eat”.

“don’t think so,” you mumbled, attempting to disappear back under the blankets before he could coerce you to follow him outside of the bedroom.

but megumi is impossibly even more stubborn than you are, wrapping his arms under your body and lifting you to his chest, “guess i’ll just have to carry you then”.

“fine,” you let out a long groan — was it a bit dramatic? maybe. but in your defense you felt like you’d been hit with a train.

he peppered your face with kisses as he carried you out of the bedroom, lovingly setting you down on one of the high bar stools around your kitchen table. he instructed you to stay in the chair, abruptly returning to the bedroom to bring out a couple blankets to wrap around your shoulders. you were grateful for the extra heat, you body still shaking and shivering as the medications worked to cure your fever.

megumi was a man of few words, preferring to display his love for you through acts of service than grand confessions, and this was very eminent when he wordlessly grabbed a couple pots and began cooking for you. you let your face fall onto your arms, resting your chin as you watched him silently shuffle between the stove and the pantry. the silence was comfortable, and you weren't going to complain about watching your muscular boyfriend walk around the kitchen in nothing but a pair of loose, plaid pajama pants.

a few minutes later he was placing a steaming bowl of soup and a couple slices of baked bread in front of you, a savory scent flooding your nostrils.

“red lentil,” he spoke as he handed you a spoon, “it’s your favorite, so you better eat it”.

“yes, sir,” you gave him a small smile, dipping the cool metal into the hot liquid and scooping a spoonful into your mouth.

“all of it”

“yes, megumi, i will try”

to no surprise, the soup went down pretty fucking horribly, your head hanging low over the toilet while megumi held your hair out of the way. your throat was practically raw by the time you were done heaving and vomiting up the meal, your eyes brimming with hot tears.

megumi tied your hair up in a neat bun so he could step away, filling up a glass with water and carefully helping you to take small sips and rinse out your mouth. he was tedious with the clean up, washing your face and helping you brush your teeth — ensuring that you felt the best you could given the situation. he then scooped you back into his arms, carrying you back to bed and profusely apologizing for making you eat the soup — but he was just trying to make you feel better, he really was doing his best.

you were ready to add today to your long list of terrible birthdays, chalking it up as another failed attempt, but megumi was not about to let that happen. he knew you had a rough history with birthdays, but now that he was here? you’d have a bad birthday over his dead body.

he scoured the back of your fridge for ginger ale, gatorade, jello, and whatever else he could find to make you the perfect sick-person platter. and he made sure he was logged into every streaming service that the two of you collectively owned, preparing netflix, hulu, and crunchy roll so that he could easily access every single one of your favorite shows and movies. and so you spent the majority of your day tucked safely against megumi’s chest, forcing down small sips of ginger ale and watching an assortment of tv.

your phone rang at some point — a facetime call from all of your friends who had gotten together so they could all wish you a collective happy birthday. megumi stuck a singular candle into a cup of blue-raspberry jello and ignited it with a small flame; and then they all sang the most terrible rendition of “happy birthday” that you’d ever heard, yuuji’s voice a little louder and little more out-of-tune than everyone else's.

you mustered enough energy to blow out the flame, everyone cheering while megumi shoveled a scoop of the blue jelly into your mouth. you swallowed it with a smile, praying it stayed down while everyone sent you off with an assortment of “feel better!”, “we love you!”, and “wish you were here!”

your night got pretty quiet after that, you and megumi climbing back under the covers to watch a few more episodes of your new favorite anime. it wasn’t until well into the night that he finally asked you if he could give you the presents he’d gotten for you. reluctantly, you said yes. you hated receiving gifts (it was just one of the many reasons you hated your birthday) but you knew that megumi wasn’t going to take no for answer.

he was obviously nervous, palms sweaty as he handed you a couple neatly wrapped packages in plain, solid colored paper. they were very megumi, perfect folds with not a single crease, the paper simple yet elegant and adorned with a singular bow on top.

you hesitantly peeled the paper off the smaller of the two, revealing a tiny box that contained a classic looking silver locket. you felt your heart pinch in your chest as you clicked the locket open and revealed two small pictures of each of the two of you. you weren’t particularly sentimental, but on top of your lack of sleep and not feeling very well, the simple gift caused few tears to well up in your eyes. but he was quick to wipe them away, insisting that you had to open the second gift first, and that birthdays weren’t meant for crying.

you followed his instructions, ripping open the second package and revealing a larger box that contained a series of envelopes. each one was decorated with tiny doodles of you and megumi, his demon dogs, hearts, etc. they were sickeningly cute, and you immediately reached for the first one before megumi reached out and stopped you.

“they’re not for now; they’re for when i’m gone, you know, on missions and stuff,” he could barely even maintain eye contact, his eyes dipping low as yours filled back up with tears.

despite your lack of energy and the fever that was starting to return, you showered him in hugs and kisses after that, thanking him over and over for the most perfect gifts, and for making your day as wonderful as it could have been.

all things aside, you were coming around to the idea that birthday’s don’t have to suck.

bonus: the first letter:

to y/n:

i know im not great at telling you what i have to say through words, actually, i’m kind of really bad at it. but i thought writing these might be a nice way to try and get better? i’m not sure. anyway, i guess i’ll start by saying that you mean a lot to me, and i probably miss you a lot right now (even though ill be too afraid to reach out and say it). not sure how long i’ll be gone for at the time but it’s probably a few days at least. gonna work hard so i can hurry back to see you.

i hope you’re sleeping enough, but i know you’re not. you never do, especially when i’m not there to yell at you. i hope you’re eating enough too. but you’re probably also not doing that. you’re like taking care of a stubborn child, you know that? but this is supposed to be a love letter so i’ll try to refrain from scolding you too much. but do try to take care of yourself. ill see you soon.

megumi

#jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fluff #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro fluff #silvers mutuals <3 #megumifushi

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wonlouvre · 3 years

Note

seungkwan fluff plesse thank you so much <333

Dynamic

pairing: non!idol seungkwan x non!idol g.n. reader genre: FLUFF! warnings: food (please tell me if i missed anything else!) word count: 788

💌: there’s something about cooking and food that makes me keep on writing about them lol. anyway here you go anon, a seungkwan fluff!! i hope you like it. thank you so much for participating! <3

“I’m here for my daily fix of hugs and kisses!”

Seungkwan says that everyday he comes around your apartment and it never fails to bring a smile to your face. You don’t even need to open the door for him anymore. You know it’s him when you hear the passcode being punched, followed by your name being called sweetly. You don’t turn away from your laptop as he makes a beeline to the kitchen and takes the food he brought out from the plastic bags.

Your smile becomes wider when you feel warm arms wrap around your shoulders and soft lips smooch your cheeks.

“Busy?” He asks.

You raise your head a little, resting it against his tummy. “Just a little bit.”

You can feel his smooth hands gently massage your shoulders and a sigh of pleasure escapes your mouth. Seungkwan just nods and pecks your forehead and goes back to the kitchen. He already knows that you can’t be bothered unless you yourself stand up from your table. He respects your schedule and he can’t get you out of it no matter how much he tries. Unless it’s way past your working hours. He’ll hold a spatula against you if you don't lift your fingers from the keyboard.

Today is like any ordinary day. You clock in at eight in the morning and clock out at six in the evening. Your company is a foreign one so you have an option to work from the comforts of your home. You have business trips every two months, visiting and attending important meetings at the main branch. But other than that, you’re mostly at your apartment, making use of technology with emails, video conferencing and whatnot.

Seungkwan is a regular to your humble abode. Although he doesn’t frequently come to your apartment, he makes sure he does at least six times a week. The one day left is usually you going to his, funnily enough. You’re not complaining about it anyway. He makes everything a little better after a tiring day. And since his family is in Jeju, he always assures you that there’s nothing to worry about.

You hear the stove being turned on and the cabinets being opened one by one. You’re sure he’s cooking your dinner now. He’s actually pretty late today. Most days he’s here before noon, fixing you some brunch. He probably went to the store to fetch some things you’re sure your refrigerator cannot offer.

You have to admit, you can cook but you’re not good at it. Seungkwan was brutally honest with you that one time you tried imitating his mother’s original recipe. It was embarrassing, but your boyfriend was kind enough to help you save the meal. From then on, he took the reins and does most of the cooking when it’s a meal you’re going to share together.

Occasionally, you cook with him and learn a lot. You try to remember them for whenever he gets busy and can’t meet you for the day. He monitors it through video call and reminds you to save some so he can have a taste later.

You’ve been dating Seungkwan for almost a year now and this dynamic that you have naturally came to be. It wasn’t forced at all. He offered to teach you how to make kimchi one time and the rest is history. You love it so much and it makes you beg to have him stay around for a long time.

You don’t see yourself letting go of Seungkwan. And you hope he feels the same way.

Around twenty minutes later, an alarm rings across the room, making you jump from your chair in surprise. It’s his phone and when he turns it off, he gives you a knowing smile. He set an alarm for when your shift ends, so that you don’t get carried away. You smile back before saving your work and sending one last email. Your laptop is currently shutting down when you stand up and walk to the kitchen, where the love of your life is with open arms.

Seungkwan scoops you in a big embrace and you giggle when he whispers “finally” against your neck. You kiss his cheek when he sets your body back down, not letting go of him with your tight arms around his waist.

“What are you making tonight?”

“Minghao-hyung taught me this fried recipe and I thought you’d love it,” he answers, wrapping one arm on your shoulder while the other continues stirring the rice on the pan.

You take a whiff and he’s right. “Smells good.”

“Of course,” he says, a little too proudly. “My cooking never tasted bad.”

You laugh and just give his cheek another kiss.

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miastideclock · 3 years

Text

Stray Kids Reaction To Their S/O Being Shy About Their Singing-Talents

anon asked:

Can you do stray kids reaction to their s/o being a good rapper and singer but they get shy and have low confidence? - 🐻💙

Of course love! I hope you like it x So sorry for the wait! While we're here, I just wanna say I'm sorry for the length difference of the individual reactions! * y/n/n is what i use for your nickname btw

Word Count: 3.5k-ish

Bang Chan

Silence. At least for the most part. You clicking the keyboard of your computer, Chan humming slightly as he clicked around on his own, as well as twisting and turning the dials on his audio mixer, connected to said computer. The sounds had sort of blended into the silence though, so neither of you really noticed it at this point.

A click louder than all of the others soon came from Chan's computer, meaning he was going to connect his progress to the speakers of his studio, so he could fully take in the track he was working on. He had played it what seemed like a million times already, but you didn't mind. You were already so phased out that he could be announcing the break up of Stray Kids', and you honestly wouldn't even catch it.

The familiar beat of their upcoming title track boomed through the speakers, and as if on autopilot, you sang along. You had heard the beginning of that very song so many times now, the lyrics were as good as engraved into the inside of your eyelids.

Once the first verse and chorus were over, the song stopped, as did you. It was when the song didn't play again you finally snapped out of your computer-trance. You shifted your eyes from the screen over to your boyfriend who was sitting on the other side of the room.

"Y/n."

You then realized you had been singing along, and probably not as quiet as you had thought. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to distract you. I'll keep quiet." You quickly apologized.

You were hanging out with your boyfriend, yes- but he was still at work, and you'd hate to be the reason for him switching out of his creative-mode.

"No! No, no, don't worry. You're just so good? How come I have never heard you sing before?" Chan grinned as he turned his spinny-chair to face you and fell back into it, looking at you with admiration.

You had been sitting on the floor with your back against the seat of the couch, so the coffee table by the mentioned couch had your laptop at shoulder-height, meaning you had to close the screen of your computer to see your boyfriend. Once you had done so, you moved your hands up to your face, covering your cheeks.

"I don't like the attention. I hate it when people look at me like- exactly like you're doing now, stop!" You giggled when Chan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He decided to mess around with you and started staring you down. You laughed and begged him to stop, but the more you did, the more intensely he stared at you- until he eventually cracked, sending you both into fits of laughter.

Lee Know

"First things first rest in peace Uncle Phil."

The music blared from your headphones straight into your head, being the only thing keeping you motivated as you did some housework. Seeing as you were mopping when the J.Cole song started playing, you figured the handle would prove to be the perfect microphone.

"For real, you the only father that I ever knew." You continued, singing and rapping along while shaking your butt and cleaning the floor. Maybe not the world's most efficient cleaning strategy, but my-oh-my did it get the job done.

Due to the loud volume in your headphones, you didn't hear the front door open and shut, as your boyfriend came home for the day.

Minho didn't even get the chance to put down his bag before his attention was completely wrapped around you having a concert in your living-room. He quickly recognized the song and let his head bob along to the beat, even though he could only hear you rapping, and not the song itself. He kicked off his shoes and placed his things on the ground before he slowly made his way into the living-room, doing a little boogie as he did so.

It wasn't until you finally turned around almost a minute later you saw your boyfriend joking around, dancing to your rapping. You instantly dropped the mop and let out a little scream as he startled you, covering your face with your hands once you saw it was just him.

"Minho! What are you doing?" You cried out in embarrassement after removing your headphones. Minho couldn't help but chuckle at you before he came closer and gave you a kiss-hello.

"Y/n, I never knew you had such voice-control! You've never rapped in front of me before, why?" He asked when he pulled away, his arms still wrapped around your waist, but his face a few inches away from yours.

"Because you're an actual rapper in an actual band!! That's like showing Michelangelo your drawing!" You argued back, a massive smile on your face. Minho then continued to shower you in compliments, making you hide your blushing face from him by burying it into his chest.

Changbin

The kitchen had all kinds of different smells as you were stirring the pot of soup you had on the stove in front of you. The kitchen-window was open, letting in a fresh spring breeze, and the radio was playing a familiar song.

"Hold me close and hold me fast The magic spell you cast This is La Vie En Rose." You softly sang along, your body swaying back and forth to the tune. You continued to sing along as you used the wooden-spoon to stir around, making sure it didn't burn.

(bro, i think i fucked up my sOUP)

"Hey, Y/n/n." It suddenly came from the doorway to the kitchen, instantly causing you to stop singing and spin around. "Hi, Binnie." You gave him a smile and then turned back around, squeezing your eyes shut, only for a second- as if you were trying to erase the past ten seconds. You hoped the radio was louder than your voice, but that hope soon came crashing down.

"No, why'd you stop?" He asked as he placed a few sheets of paper on the table and continued over to you. You started smiling like an idiot for a second before you raised your hands to cover your face. Chanbin noticed and chuckled as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. "Don't be shy!"

He then spun you around so you were facing him, but your hands still covered your face. This made Changbin just chuckle even more. He tried to jokingly pry your hands from your face, but you just shoved your head into his shoulder so he wouldn't be able to grab you properly. You either couldn't help but chuckle as you messed around, but quickly stopped once you remembered you were cooking.

You turned around to keep stirring your soup, Changbin never let go of you. "But tell me, why have I never heard you sing before when your voice is THAT good?" He asked, but you ignored him.

"For real?" He tried again, but you pretended he didn't say anything.

"Would you like some soup?" You asked him, turning slightly to look at him. He seemed amused, but he just nodded, accepting your choice of lunch.

Hyunjin

Hot water poured down your back, the whole shower smelling like your body wash. You had just gotten back from a run and decided to clean up a bit before Hyunjin came back from work. So after getting out of your leggings and hoodie, you had grabbed your speaker and headed for the washroom.

Knowing Hyunjin wasn't home, you qued the best of the best from your playlist, getting ready to absolutely shred the imaginary rap battles you were about to have. Banger after banger played as you sang into your microphone. Your mic being an empty shampoo bottle you had yet to throw out.

You were mid-shampoo when Streets by Doja Cat played, and you almost slipped and fell while hurriedly reaching for your microphone.

"Damn, papi, you a rare breed, no comparing." You borderline yelled, as if you had just gotten out of a failed relationship where you still loved your partner, when in fact that wasn't your case at all. You were very much in love with your boyfriend, and you were on great terms- but for the sake of your rap battle, you had to get into it.

"When other chickens tryna get in my coop 'Cause you're a one in a million There ain't no man like you!" Not to toot your own horn or anything, but you could confidently say you absolutely bodied that verse, and you were soon let know you weren't the only one who thought so.

(I don't actually think he is the one to cuss, but this is simply because I cannot think of another way to say it, so for the lack of a better word:) "Fuck it up, baby!" You heard Hyunjin hype you up on the other side of the bathroom door, making your stomach drop for a second.

"You're not supposed to be home yet." You answered him after turning off the speaker, and the shower. You stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around you, then went to open the door.

"Well, I had to hurry home when I heard the rap God themselves was having a concert in our bathroom." Hyunjin chuckled once you opened the door with almost a shameful face. "Should I talk to JYP about getting you a rap-audition, or..?" He dragged out the last word, kind of he was taunting you, but in the most loving way possible. Feeling your cheeks grow hot, you closed the door back up and locked him out.

"I'm never leaving this bathroom." You announced as you covered your face, even though Hyunjin could no longer see you.

"Y/n/n, I was kidding! You were great though, I might actually talk to JY-" He started again, but you cut him off by groaning, causing the both of you to break out laughing.

Han

Clicking of a pen. Gentle tapping of a foot. Frustrated hair ripping. You had seen these symptoms before- that's right, Jisung was in a slump.

You were at the studio with your boyfriend, and you were both seated in the sitting group, Jisung leaning his elbows on the table, head in his hands, tugging at his hair as if it would activate his creative juices. You had tagged along just to get out of the house, and maybe Jisung needed moral support, and wouldn't you have guessed- that was exactly what he needed.

"You good?" You asked him after he let out the umpteenth sigh in the past hour. He then finally confessed he just couldn't get the ending of the second verse down. "Why don't you sing it, so you can hear what's missing, rather than just reading it?"

He did as you suggested and sang through it. When he came to the part he was talking about, you also heard it. Something about it was just kinda.. off.

You tilted your head to the side as you were thinking of ways to better it, to try and help him. An idea popped into your head, and maybe it could work- after all you were no song writer. You tried your best to explain to Jisung what it was you were thinking, but about half-way through, you could see he was as lost as that one time Chan and Changbin had accidentally left the two of you behind at IKEA.

"I'm so sorry, babe. I don't fully understand what you mean." He confessed, and you nodded, knowing well that was him being sweet about the fact that you sucked at explaining things. So in the spirit of making it easier for him to understand, you just sang it. You sang through the song and added the part you had tried to explain.

"Did that make more sense?" You asked when you were done, looking from the sheet of paper up at your boyfriend, who was sat there, his lips slightly parted as his jaw hung lose. "Jisung? Babe?" You tried to snap him back to reality as it seemed he had zoned out, but only for a moment.

"Wait, that was so good? Since when were you that good?" Jisung suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree, smiling and almost bouncing in his seat. He continued to shower you in compliments, making you feel like a turtle trying to get back into its shell.

"Stop. If you ever mention me singing again, I will throw myself out the window." You said, both humor in your tone, and being dead serious at the same time.

"Okay, dramatic much?" Jisung joked back, making you shove his shoulder as you chuckled alongside him.

Felix

A car zoomed past you as you walked on the pavement on the side of the road, admiring the spring at its full bloom. You were almost a bit disappointed when you reached your home as you wanted to continue to look at the flowers, but that thought soon fell right out of your head. As you walked up the staircase to your apartment, you heard a constant noise grow louder and louder. You were about to turn the key when you realized the noise was more rhythmic than you originally thought, and that the music was coming from inside your apartment.

Curiosity completely consumed your body when you finally opened the door, and was met with a wall of noise. You took a few steps in and shut the door behind you, protecting the outside world from the sight you had in front of you.

Felix was using a hairbrush as he jumped around both on the floor and in the couch, crying out the lyrics to a song you didn't quite recognize. You laughed at your boyfriend as you kicked off your shoes and hung your coat in the closet.

Felix finally spotted you and quickly pulled out his phone that was connected to the speakers, and changed the song. The familiar intro of your favorite song soon played, and it didn't take as much as a second before you were as hyped as Felix were. You began jumping around and dancing with him, matching his energy.

Felix screamed the lyrics into the hairbrush before he swiftly tossed you the brush, letting you pop off as well. You rapped the words perfectly into the brush, standing on the couch as your concert evolved.

The song eventually came to an end, causing the both of you to fall breathlessly to the ground, heaving for air- massive smiles on your faces. The ground was cool against your now sweaty backs. A few seconds passed before Felix spoke.

"I don't think I have ever heard you rap before." He admitted. You kept staring at the ceiling, ignoring the boy at your side for a few seconds before you decided to answer him.

"And you will never hear it again."

Both you and Felix could back the claim that he had never moved as fast as he did when you said that. He had jumped up so he was on his elbows, facing you with wide eyes.

"No!! Please! You were so good!" He cried out, making you laugh at him. You just gave him a wink before you got to your feet and went to get the groceries you had left in the hallway.

Seungmin

"How about we go in there? Maybe I can find you a shirt?" You spoke after pointing to a store.

You were currently out shopping with your boyfriend, Seungmin. He had asked you to get him an outfit, not for any special occasion of anything, just for shits and giggles. It was your favorite type of dates, the ones where you don't really plan anything, you just end up doing fun and silly things.

Seungmin nodded and you soon dragged him into the store. The layout of the shop was like any other, so you soon made your way to the back where the mens clothing was.

As you were casually roaming the racks of clothes, the speakers soon started playing one of your favorite songs, making it impossible for you to not hum along. You kept looking at the different items of clothing on your left, Seungmin behind you, looking through the clothes on your right hand side.

Soon, the song picked up, you quietly jamming along, allowing yourself to softly sing along as there were no other customers near you.

Your hand suddenly slid over a material that caught your attention. It was a green oversized tee, with some colorful and funky letters on the front. You cut yourself off to turn around and show Seungmin the shirt, asking him what he thought about the item.

You held it up, but no reply. "Seungmin?" You tried again. It was odd seeing as he was looking at you with a slight smile, yet he was not replying to your question. You then lowered the shirt and waved your hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"You okay?" You asked him once he gently shook his head to re-focus his eyes. He nodded gleefully.

"Sorry, your voice was just so good that I completely forgot where we were." He admitted, giving you a look. You pursed your lips and spun on your heel, so he wouldn't see your burning cheeks.

I.N

Date night! You and boyfriend Jeongin had just been at a local restaurant for a cute night out. Nothing overly fancy, just a chance to enjoy each others company, since you both had been busy lately.

After you had paid your bill, the two of you went for a walk to enjoy the warm, evening air. With nowhere in mind, you just casually wandered down the street, your hands intertwined as you swung them back and forth, pulling and pushing at each other in a joking manner.

"Woah, when did this get here?" Jeongin suddenly asked as you passed a building with a bright neon sign hanging out front. You looked to your side to see what it was he was talking about.

Karaoke, the neon sign read. You turned back to your boyfriend and gave him a smug smile, hoping he was thinking the same as you. He returned the smile and suddenly you were being shown to a private room by the hostess.

The first few songs were just the two of you messing around, screaming ABBA into your respective microphones. At one point while picking the next song, Jeongin saw a song he really wanted to do, but as you didn't know the lyrics, you decided to sit this one out.

He belted his heart out to the tune you found unfamiliar, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. Jeongin was after all a singer in a world-renowned band- boy had talent.

The song came to an end, resulting in you giving him a standing ovation as he playfully bowed repeatedly.

"I'm your biggest fan!" You raised your hands to your mouth and pretended to be yelling it at the 'stage', like he just held a concert for thousands. You both laughed at yourselves before Jeongin announced it would be his turn to sit one out. You took that as you cue to get up from the couch and pick a song.

You were no singer, never was- never will be, at least not in public. So when you had to pick a song, you didn't care if it didn't 'fit your range', or 'suit your voice'. You picked a song you liked and ran with it.

The melody started, and you raised your mic to your lips, singing the words that were showing on the large screen in front of you. You found it wasn't as fun to sing without your boyfriend, but got through the song anyways.

As most things do, the song came to and end. You placed the mic on the table and turned around to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. Mid turn, you saw your boyfriend like you never had before. His eyes were wide and his jaw was lose.

"What?" You asked him, uncapping the water bottle and taking a swig.

"Where did that come from?" He asked, eyes still wide as dinner-plates. You raised your eyebrow in a questioning manner, as if you were asking him to elaborate. "You're an amazing singer! How have I never heard that before?"

You felt your cheeks grow hot, and your eyes instantly found the ground, suddenly too shy to look at Jeongin. He chuckled at your reaction, and leaned forward so he could reach your hand from where he was sitting. He then pulled you back so you fell to the couch, crossing your arms over your chest, your shoulders up to your ears by now.

"We have to do this more often so I can hear you sing more!" He stated as he poked your arm, trying to get you to be less shy- and somehow it worked.

Hope you liked it! Feel free to request again!

-bentley

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

The best present - Harry Styles

Sequel to UPDATE

on demand, this is a fluffy little sequel to update, hope you’ll like it! tagging the people who asked for said sequel: @urdadbtch @f-vasquezp

word count: 3k

masterlist

Harry has a soft spot for surprises. Especially if he is the one planning them for a loved one. The overflowing joy he sees in one’s eyes upon receiving a carefully planned surprise just gives him a different type of satisfaction in life, one he couldn’t live without.

His life has taken a pleasant turn ever since Y/N entered it, virtually and in a real dimension. It hasn’t been the easiest with his hectic schedule and her anchored life in Spokane, but with some time paid to adjusting to the situation they managed to make it work. He wouldn’t have settled for anything else, because he just simply couldn’t imagine his life without her anymore and luckily she felt the same way.

Harry fell in love with her quicker than what it took for the weather to turn cold in the fall. It felt like the most natural thing that has ever happened to him, to fall for her whole being, everything that’s her on the inside and outside. Harry often caught himself thinking what he did in life to earn such a beautiful person in his life. He hasn’t figured that one out yet.

Y/N was like a warm summer breeze on a hot august evening, easily charmed anyone and everyone Harry introduced her to. She slowly but surely met some of the most important people in Harry’s life and he just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that it felt like she’s been part of his life since forever even on the first meetings.

“She is wonderful, I love her,” his mother told him when they finally had the chance to meet upon a weekend they spent in New York. It was a lucky time when both his mother and Y/N were free and he took the chance to cook up a mini vacation in the city right away. Anne was thrilled to meet the woman that had her son wrapped around her fingers even before meeting.

Harry felt like he was on the top of the world when he saw the two women get along like they’ve been friends for years, it filled his heart even more.

The situation was quite the same with Gemma, in just a blink of an eye they were making plans on their own not including Harry, which hit him a little hard in the chest, but he was happy knowing they found the common ground.

“You amaze me so much,” he once told Y/N when they were spending the night at her place, one of those weekends when Harry flew all the way to Spokane just to spend less than 48 hours with her. Even with the long flights and hustle that came with the traveling he wouldn’t have done it any other way. If he could see her smile for just ten minutes he would have travelled days.

“I do?” she asked smirking up at him, putting her book aside as she rested her chin on his tattooed chest.

“Mhm,” he hummed with a quirky smile. “In so many ways.”

“Write a song about them so I can listen to it,” she told him as a joke. Little did she know that not even a week later that’s exactly what Harry did. It was another addition to the endless list of songs she inspired.

December creeped its way around the corner faster than they were expecting and in a blink of an eye every store was filled with Christmas ornaments and wrapping papers, the most iconic Christmas songs were played everywhere, making those who work at retail want to throw Michael Bublé and Mariah Carey right out the window for every having the thought of recording Christmas music.

Harry and Y/N had plans for the holidays. They agreed on spending three days from 22nd to 24th with his family and then fly to Portland to be with her family from the 25th to 27th before they head to New York City to spend the last few days left from the year together and celebrate the new year at a party Harry was invited to.

These plans were set in stone right until Harry decided to surprise his lover with the best gift he could think about. It was a tough call and took him weeks to arrange but Harry was able to get Y/N’s brother to leave for the holidays earlier, on the 21st instead of just the 26th.

“Why are we changing it again?” Y/N asks curiously as she sits on Harry’s lap when they are changing their plane tickets so they could start the holidays at her family instead of his.

“Mom is not going to be home until the 24th,” he lies and then adds: “Gemma is also gonna only arrive on the 23rd. Figured it would work better. We would be at your parents’ from the 21st to the 23rd, go to the UK from 24th to 26th and there is an early flight so we would be in Portland by the time your brother arrives.”

He had spent a long time figuring out how to manage the dates so she wouldn’t be suspicious. Seemingly, it worked, because Y/N nods as she stands up and walks over to the kitchen.

“Alright. But isn’t that too much of a hustle to go back and forth two times?”

“Not that horrible,” Harry smiles in her way, his fingers moving fast on the keyboard to make the right changes for their trips before she returns and sees that the dates are not exactly the same as he told her. Luckily, she hops onto the kitchen counter as he finishes up and closes his laptop feeling ecstatic about the surprise he has planned for her.

“It’s gonna be busy,” she points out as Harry walks over to her, placing his hands on each side of her on the counter.

“But we will be busy together,” he grins leaning closer to steal a kiss.

As the days pass by Harry is growing more and more excited about the surprise. He almost slipped a few times upon talking about the holidays, but managed to save the situation just in time. Y/N had no idea what he had in store for her.

“That’s all your stuff for our trip?” Y/N asks when Harry arrives to her place with his decent, normal sized suitcase that has his essentials for the next about seven days while they will be on the road. He glances down at his bag before walking inside and setting it down in the hallway.

“Love, I’ve learned how to pack in a smart way,” he tells her teasingly before pecking her on the lips while he takes his coat off and hangs it in the hallway.

“Yeah, but it’s an entire week. I’m going with twice this much.”

“’Cuz you are packing for New York as well. We’ll be staying in my place, remember? I don’t need stuff for that time,” he reminds her and he is right, but she is still amazed at how he managed to fit everything he needs into just one suitcase.

That night Harry lies awake with her sleeping form next to him. Looking around the room he thinks about how this is the same place he fell in love with her, but it was through just a screen. All the plants, the furniture, the bed he saw behind her in the videos are now his reality as well and in just a few short months they have grown so close to each other, he couldn’t imagine his life in a different way.

“What’s the matter?” he hears her groggy voice coming from next to him and looking to the side he sees that she is blinking at him in the dark.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning to his side to face her, noses almost touching on the pillow.

“Then why aren’t you sleeping?” she asks, sneaking a hand to his back under the covers and she starts to gently stroke his skin with his fingertips, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Just… excited about the holidays,” he whispers with a shrug. He can’t tell her that he is excited to meet your family, especially your brother since he is kind of the reason you ever got the chance to meet. He feels like he is too worked up about meeting her parents and cousins, but he can’t wait to feel like he is part of her family. What he doesn’t know is that she already sees him as part of it, has been since she realized how deeply in love she is with him.

“Mmm, excited about your gifts?” she teases him with closed eyes, but her fingers are still moving on his back. Harry lets out a soft chuckle.

“Especially about those.”

He brings his arm around her frame and pulls her to his chest as they make themselves comfortable under the covers, legs tangled, her face resting on his chest as he gently strokes her arms, soothing her back into sleep.

“I love you,” he whispers thinking she has already fallen back asleep. It wasn’t the first time he has said the words to her, but tonight just feels a little different.

“Love you too,” she mumbles back pressing a kiss to his naked chest before she sighs and lets herself fall back into sleep.

Her family knew about the change in Sammy’s arrival, but Harry made them promise they won’t say a word to Y/N, keeping it as a surprise.

Her mother welcomes the two of them with warm excitement, the house already smelling amazing from all the different cookies she’s been baking, the dinner is also in the making on the stove.

“Finally here!” she hugs both of them, even though she hasn’t officially met Harry, only talked to him on the phone about Sammy’s early arrival. “Come on in!”

The two of them get rid of their winter attire before Harry turns to her mother holding out a hand to make their first meeting official.

“So nice to meet ya, I’m Harry.”

Instead of taking his hand her mother pulls him into another tight hug that he returns with a soft chuckle.

“I’m so happy you are finally here! I’ve heard so much good about you,” she tells him with a sly, knowing smile while Y/N is not looking. “I can tell you are a blessing to the family already.”

“Thank you,” he nods smiling.

Harry meets Y/N’s dad and two of her cousins who have arrived earlier and they all gather in the living room just talking at first, then soon enough they start playing board games. They get stuck on Activity, the pairs are Y/N and Harry, her mom and dad, and her two cousins. The competition is burning up the house, Harry can tell they all take the game very seriously.

Through the game Harry keeps glancing out the window, waiting for a car to park at the driveway. He has sent a car to pick Sammy up, but since he didn’t have his phone on him just yet he couldn’t let Harry know when he would be arriving exactly.

Just after he is done drawing in one of the rounds he sees the black car pull up at the house. Harry pretends to get a call and he can see the excitement grow in her parents’ eyes as they already know what this means, while Y/N is oblivious to anything that’s about to happen. Harry quietly makes his way out of the house hoping he didn’t draw her attention, and that’s when Sammy gets out of the car thanking the driver for the ride. As he turns around Harry is stunned to see how much the two of them resemble. He sees her eyes in his, their ears curl the same way and he has the exactly same hair color as her. There was no doubt the two of them were related.

“Harry, right?” he asks holding his hand out firmly that Harry takes smiling.

“Yeah. Sammy, I supposed.”

“The one and only,” he chuckles holding his bag’s strap over his shoulder.

“I would love to chat more, but I think we should move inside first,” Harry suggests and Sammy follows him up the few stairs that leads to the front door.

“Harry! Come on, we are up next!” Y/N calls out from the living room as the two guys walk inside.

She is seated on the floor, her back to the hallway so she doesn’t see when the two men walk in, grinning from ear to ear. She only notices something is happening when she sees her mother gasp happily at the sight of her son.

“What—“ she starts but turning around her words disappear as she stares up at her brother who she hasn’t seen in what feels like ages.

Harry overflows with joy when he sees how shocked she is, in the best way possible. He watches her leap to her feet and jolt right at Sammy, throwing herself into his arms as he lifts her up, twirling her around in excitement.

“Hi there, little sis,” he chuckles still holding her close as she is fighting with her tears upon the surprise she just had.

“How… What are you doing here early?” she asks in total awe as she tries to comprehend that he is truly here, in her arms.

“Ask you boyfriend,” Sammy chuckles looking in Harry’s direction. “He arranged an early leaving for me, I don’t know how, but he did,” Sammy adds letting go of his sister.

As her parents make their way to their son Y/N moves over to Harry, still in complete disbelief that he did this.

“How?” she asks, arms snaking up around his neck while his hands get a hold of her waist.

“I have… connections,” he shrugs shyly and she just shakes her head laughing before she pulls him down for the sweetest thank you kiss.

“I can’t believe you,” she sighs pecking his lips once again.

“What I can’t believe is that he could keep it a secret this long,” Sammy speaks up.

“Wait, how long have you known this?”

“A couple weeks. Got it finalized early December,” Harry admits, feeling proud that he could make this happen.

“So this is why we had to change the tickets!” she gasps in realization. “When do we have to leave for real then?”

“We are staying until the 25th, our plane leaves in the afternoon,” he smiles warmly as he sees her eyes light up. According to the original plans they would have had only two days with Sammy at home, but this way it’s almost four entire days. “This was the most I could get, Love,” Harry adds, feeling a bit guilty that they are leaving to see his family, but Y/N shakes her head.

“This is absolutely perfect. You gave me the best present,” she smiles cupping his face in her hands as she pulls him down for another kiss.

This Christmas goes down as the best one she has ever had. The time they spend with her family holds a special place in her heart, especially because she loves seeing her family and Harry get along so well. She now knows what he felt when she met his mother and sister. Seeing him be so kind to her mom and have loads of things to talk about with her dad and brother warms her in a way only Harry can make her feel.

The feeling doesn’t change when they arrive to his home. She feels like she is part of the family just as much as he is. They spend some splendid days with his extended family, enjoying the spirit of the holidays and she is almost sad when it’s time for them to leave.

“Come back soon, Sweetheart,” Anne tells her when they are saying goodbye at the airport.

“I will, if he is okay with bringing me next time,” she chuckles glancing at Harry by her side.

“Oh I sure am, Love,” he smiles kissing the top of her head.

Those couple of days they spend together in the city holds memories they will surely never forget. They finally get to spend time together without anything interrupting them, just enjoying the little moments, falling deeper in love with each passing day.

The last day arrives in a fast pace and neither of them can believe the year is ending so soon. They spend the day in bed mostly before it’s time to get ready for the party one of Harry’s friends is hosting in Manhattan.

It’s a nice way to end such a wonderful year, they mix and mingle with the guests but keep each other close, especially when they reach the last minutes of the year left. Harry takes her hand and pulls her out to the balcony to have some privacy before the countdown.

“Crazy how we are here,” he sighs as his arms are wrapped around her figure, warming her body as much as he can in the New York City winter time.

“Who would have thought?” she chuckles placing a sweet kiss to his jawline.

“Not me,” he admits laughing. “But I’m glad it’s my reality now.”

Y/N smiles up at him with gratitude in her eyes, just when the countdown starts inside.

“Have you ever had a New Year’s Eve kiss?” Harry asks as he pulls her closer, if that’s even possible.

“Sadly, I have not.”

“Then can I have the pleasure to be your first?” he smirks down at her and she just nods biting into her bottom lip.

“Three! Two! One!” the guests call out inside as the whole city erupts at the same time, fireworks go off and cheering echoes through the building, but it all fades into nothing as Harry leans down and kisses her sweetly. They spend the first couple of moments of the new year melted together until they pull back for air. The crispy winter air has turned his nose red quickly and she is lost in how adorable but handsome he still manages to look.

“Harry Styles,” she sighs feeling defeated by her own feelings. “You are one wonderful creature, you know that?” she wonders, as if she was saying her inner thoughts out loud. Harry chuckles as he presses a kiss to her forehead.

“That makes the two of us, Love.”

I’m opening a Harry taglist, let me know if you are interested in being on it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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ahkaahshi · 4 years

Text

so good to me [akaashi keiji x reader]

pairing: akaashi keiji x fem reader

genre: smut (18+) with a hint of fluff

warning(s): explicit sexual content, quirofilia, breath play, light dumbification, swearing, fingering, dirty talk

word count: 3.2k

overview: baking cupcakes ends up being a bit more challenging than you’d originally anticipated when you keep finding yourself distracted by your handsome boyfriend’s pretty hands.

It’s almost poetic, you think: the way your boyfriend’s fingers dance along his laptop’s keyboard. Even though he’s sending a rather heated email to a coworker who’s fallen short on his work, you can’t help but find yourself mesmerized at the sight of his long, slender digits tapping away rhythmically, only pausing every now and then to find just the right word to use to purvey his displeasure in an appropriate manner. In fact, you’re so entranced by watching the tendons in his hands shift with each movement of his fingers that you don’t even realize you’ve neglected your ingredient measuring duties until his voice interrupts you.

“Sorry, do you need the recipe again?” he asks, drawing your (e/c) gaze to his slate blue one that glows behind the screen’s reflection on his glasses.

Quickly, you shake your head and brush a strand of (h/c) hair away from your face. “We can start when you’re done. It’s okay.” The small smile that graces your features has him leaning down to peck your temple gently.

“I’ll be done in a minute.”

Pleasant tingles travel down your back at feeling his lips brush against your skin as they form the gentle reassurance he speaks. To busy yourself in a productive manner while he finishes up his email, you wander around the kitchen to fetch any bakeware you see missing from the island’s wooden countertop—including a muffin pan. A glance at the time displayed in sharp, blue lines on the stove reminds you just how much earlier in the day you should’ve started baking treats for the small gathering of former Fukuroudani team members you’d offered to host. Akaashi seems to sense your concern, since he hurries to finish his message before opening the tab with the recipe you intend to follow and washing his hands.

As the two of you set to combining and mixing ingredients according to the cupcake recipe on his screen, you find it challenging to keep your daydreams at bay and your attention on your own tasks. Each time his hands dart into your workspace for another utensil, your gaze follows them and your mind floods with thoughts that quickly become less than innocent.

Every glide of his fingers along his laptop’s trackpad makes you wish they were tracing along every inch of your body instead, setting your skin ablaze with his touch. Each time they wrap around the base of the stand mixer he’s using to agitate a bowl of creamy contents, you feel your throat tighten in anticipation as your mind conjures hazy memories of his gentle pressure around your neck. His occasional—and almost curious—grazes of the veins beneath the fair skin on his arms remind you of each time you’d decorated them with small crescents as you clutched onto him while feverishly chanting his name. Watching him work is both delightful and maddening.

And it becomes even more of a challenge to slow your racing heart when you notice his fingers dip into the bowl of frosting he’s whipped up to collect some on his fingertips. Experimentally, he tastes his creation, the thoughtful expression on his features soon easing as he gives it an approving nod. Upon noticing that your full attention is on him, he gestures towards the bowl and offers, “Try some. See if you like it.”

Your heart flutters in your chest as you suggest, “Could you get some for me? My hands are all covered in flour.”

For the record, they’re not, and your observant boyfriend knows this, but entertains you anyway. It’s almost shameful, the way your mouth begins watering when his fingers drag through the fluffy, white topping to gather another dollop on the tips, but you can’t help yourself. Not when you know just how much sweeter the sample will taste when delivered to you by his digits rather than your own. He seems to understand at least a sliver of the thoughts racing through your mind, since he utters a gentle command that brings your thighs together beneath the cover of your apron.

“Open.”

Obediently, you let your jaw slacken so he can move his fingers between your soft lips to spread the sugary frosting across your tastebuds. His unwavering gaze narrows ever so slightly when you move your face closer to his knuckle, taking the entirety of his two fingers into your mouth and dragging your tongue along the smooth expanse of his skin. That quiet groan you can barely hear rumbling in his throat is both a warning and a challenge—letting you know that you’re playing with fire but also questioning just how badly you want to get burned. Solidifying your decision of wanting to play this teasing game with him, you suck on his fingers with enough pressure to create a loud pop when you remove them from your mouth by pulling away.

Judging by the low tone in his voice when he speaks, your intentions have been made crystal clear and he’s not going to let you get away with what you’ve done. “I should’ve known, huh?” You furrow your eyebrows in slight confusion at his words, but he elaborates, “With the way you’ve been watching me since before we even started baking. So simple-minded, sometimes, aren’t you, baby?” A gentle tap against your protruding lower lip brings your attention to the fact that you’re pouting, and you quickly take it between your teeth. “Can’t even do something as easy as following a recipe for cupcake batter because you’re too busy thinking about making a mess all over my fingers. Is that right?”

Your breath hitches in your throat when his palm moves to the side of your neck, just beneath your jawbone. “Keiji,” you whimper softly, feeling unbearably hot under his touch all of a sudden. His cool thumb tracing over your warm skin hardly provides any relief, and only intensifies the temperature of the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach.

“Finish up,” he commands gently, placing his other hand on your hip to guide you back towards the bowl of ingredients you’ve yet to finish mixing. He grabs the hand mixer resting on the counter nearby that you’d taken out earlier before placing the device into the palm of your slightly quivering hand. At your hesitation, he urges, “Go on. I would hate to have to tell everyone that dessert wasn’t ready because my girlfriend was too distracted by wanting me to fuck her stupid on my fingers, of all things.”

Another pitiful whine escapes your mouth, but you turn the mixer on and place it in the bowl in front of you to complete the task you’d originally set yourself to. The sensation of his fingers ghosting along the exposed skin on your neck before making their way down to your hips and holding onto them firmly from where he stands behind you makes your core ache. His warmth against the entire backside of your body has you using every fiber of self-control to prevent yourself from abandoning your job and throwing your arms around him. However, you know that no matter how much you want him, he won’t feed into any of your desires until the contents of the bowl have been poured into the muffin pan and safely tucked away inside the warmth of the oven, so you diligently work on taking things one step at a time—since that’s all you can muster, anyway.

“Good girl,” he praises gently when you finish mixing, his breath falling on the shell of your ear, “You always work better when you’re told what to do, don’t you?” Silently, you nod. Both of you know that your intelligence is much higher than he’s currently giving you credit for, but you love the pleasure you reap from assuming the role of his dumb, little girlfriend in situations like this. Pretending as if you didn’t know better or couldn’t perform without being told what to do always gave you a bit of a thrill—which he knew all too well. He didn’t mind, since he had never been a stranger to assuming control.

“In the oven for twenty minutes. Be careful not to burn yourself, sweetheart.”

His gunmetal gaze follows your figure as you shuffle over to the oven to pull it open so you can slide the tray into its warmth. Once you’ve set it to bake for the appropriate time, you untie your apron and pull it off over your head before grabbing one of his hands and leading him towards the bedroom. However, his refusal to budge takes you by surprise, and you nearly stumble backwards when your movements are stopped.

“Keiji,” you huff, “the rest of our friends are gonna be here soon.”

In an instant that happens too quickly for you to be able to process anything, you’re being pulled towards him moments before you find your back pressed against one of the walls in the kitchen. Your (e/c) eyes are wide with shock but clouded by a thin veil of lust as you stare into his own, which you find are watching you as calmly as ever. “I know,” he states, “So why don’t we take care of things right here, then?” Though his words are phrased as a question, the intonation of his voice along with the way his hand is slowly sliding up your shirt reveal otherwise. He’s not asking.

The intensity of his gaze makes your heart pound erratically against your ribcage and draws you closer to him in spite of his strong presence keeping your back flush against the cool wall. After he brings his face down towards yours to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, it’s hard for you to keep track of everything that happens next. His fingers dancing along the expanse of bare skin from your waist to your lacy bralette beneath your shirt has you melting into his touch, and his passionate kisses are soon taking your breath away. His fingertips skimming over the dainty fabric separating them from your nipples makes you squirm and tighten your grasp around him.

“Come here,” he whispers, placing his arm around your back and guiding you into the center of the kitchen. Grabbing one of the chairs at the other side of the island, he drags it behind him so he can take a seat and beckon you to do the same. When you sit down on his lap facing him, he shakes his head and insists, “Turn around.”

With your back to him this time, you slide back onto the seat, perching between his legs. As his hands work their way up to your breasts, sliding underneath the lace so they can cup your soft, plush skin and roll your nipples between his fingers, you let out a soft moan and focus your gaze on the warm glow of the light inside the oven just a few feet away from where you’re sitting. In the faint reflection on the smooth surface of the glass, yours and Akaashi’s forms are barely visible, and you can’t help but watch as he slides one of his palms along your thighs, pausing to give them a firm squeeze every now and then.

“Please, Keiji,” you breathe, placing your hand over his and guiding it to the waistband of the lounge shorts you’re wearing, “want your fingers inside me.”

He hums, “I know you do, baby,” as he toys with the elastic before pushing it away from your hips and down your legs as far as he can reach. You hear a small chuckle bubble in his throat when you hastily rid yourself of the garment, leaving only one more layer between his long fingers and your aching core. “It’s all you’ve been thinking about. It’s all you can think about.”

You nod in agreement, desperate to do or say anything that’ll get him to move with just a bit more urgency to alleviate your discomfort. Heat spreads across your skin in a powerful wave when his other palm comes to rest on the base of your throat. His fingers slowly making their way up and around your neck, gently pulling you back against his chest while his other digits toy with the edge of your panties makes your pussy throb needily. Before you can beg for him another time, though, he’s dipping beneath the flimsy material to trail his fingertips from your already soaking entrance to your clit.

A loud moan of appreciation echoes from between your lips as Akaashi presses his to your jawline. “Take your panties off for me.” His command has your own fingers skittering down to your hips to shed the material as quickly as possible and you ignore the rush of cold air you feel between your legs at being fully exposed. The reflection in the oven’s window is too unclear for you to tell if he’s watching you the same way you’re watching yourself, but, in the bright lights of the kitchen, you can see your slick shining on his fingertips as he spreads it along your sex.

Your small whimpers and mewls begin steadily increasing in volume as he slides his index finger over your pearl in short, tantalizing strokes that leave you wanting more. And while he enjoys every sound that leaves your mouth, littering your skin with gentle kisses as encouragement, he tightens his grasp around your throat, restricting your airflow in the gentlest manner possible. It’s clear, after your countless experiences with breath play in the bedroom, that he knows exactly how much pressure to use to keep you safe and comfortable, yet make you feel restrained and excited.

As he digs his digits into the tender skin around your neck, your cries of pleasure become more labored and your chest heaves with deeper breaths. He’s careful and understanding of your body, loosening his grip slightly whenever he feels the muscles surrounding your throat straining too excessively, and tightening it again when he hears more of your desperate pleas. Safety and respect for you are always his first priorities, no matter what games you’re playing or kinks you’re experimenting with, and knowing he’ll always take care of you is what makes you melt into his arms and clutch onto him tightly as he pleasures you.

“Keiji!” Another cry of his name rolls off your tongue when he finally plunges his fingers inside of your hot core, which welcomes him with a wet squelch. Each thrust of his digits into you, edging them closer and closer to your most sensitive area has you moaning unabashedly with desire. “Faster, please!” He ignores your request and continues sliding them in and out at a controlled speed. “Please, Keiji, I wanna cum. I want you to make me cum,” you plead with an exasperated exhale.

Without warning, the hand on your neck releases so he can shove his fingers into your half-open mouth, making you squeal with surprise. “It looks like you forgot that you’re only allowed to take orders, not give them, silly girl,” he murmurs, pressing his mouth against the shell of your ear so his voice is the only thing you can hear, “Who’s in charge right now, hmm?”

With his fingers depressing your tongue and quickly filling your mouth with saliva, you slur out his name as best as you can. The proximity of his face to yours makes you hyperaware of each breath and utterance that leaves his lips, as well as the heat they send skittering across your skin.

“That’s right,” he answers, “So, be a good girl and let me make you feel good, okay? Promise I will.”

He takes a soft sigh and lack of complaints from you as a sign of you relinquishing control to him once more and pecks your temple tenderly in response. As he continues pleasuring your needy pussy with his fingers, those he has in your mouth muffle the cries you utter in response to the sensations that you’ve been craving all day. It’s not long before you notice your own saliva start trailing down his wrist, glittering in the lights above as you as it leaves a slick path along the soft ridges of his veins and tendons in its slow-moving wake. His thumb pressing against your sensitive clit as he kneads the spongy region inside of you with his index and middle fingers returns you to the moment once again, and your breathing gradually becomes more labored as you grind your hips against him, desperate for release.

Soon, a rush of euphoria overtakes your body as you finally fall apart at his fingers alone. He lightens the pressure he’s exerting on your tongue just enough for his name to be fully formed when it leaves your mouth in breathy cries, since there’s nothing he loves more than hearing it chanted like it’s the only word in your vocabulary in the heat of your orgasms. He hums with contentment into your neck, nipping gently at the skin there as he lets you use his fingers to ride out your high.

You’re barely allowed a moment of rest following your release before the timer for the oven beeps harshly, bringing you back to reality more abruptly than you would’ve liked. Slowly, you close your legs, and Akaashi keeps his hand nestled in your warmth for what feels to be a long stretch of time before pulling it away from your sensitive core. A lighthearted chuckle echoes from his mouth when he tries to move only to have you slump against him and whine with indignation.

Before he can speak, the sound of the doorbell ringing alerts both of you to the arrival of your guests, and your gaze darts to him, then to your shorts and panties strewn across the tiled floor. “Of course, they decide to be right on time today, of all days,” he growls, placing his hands on your waist to help you stand up so you can make yourself decent.

“Kou’s probably excited about the cupcakes,” you giggle as you slide the discarded clothes back up your legs while Akaashi washes his hands. Once you’re dressed, you approach your boyfriend and give him and affectionate kiss that he returns appreciatively. Another chime of the doorbell forces the two of you to pull away so that he can retrieve the cupcakes from the oven and attend to your impatient guests. “Need help with anything?”

He smiles sweetly but answers, “Not now. You can go ahead and get ready,” before giving you a gentle pat on the rear to send you off down the hall.

“Hey, Keiji?”

“Yes, my love?”

You bite your lip before suggesting, “Once everyone leaves tonight, how about I put on that cute lingerie set you got for me and wait in the bedroom for you on my knees?”

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, “I would love that.” As you prance down the hallway to the bedroom while he approaches the front door, the words you hear him add in a hushed tone make your heart flutter in your chest: “Always so good to me.”

treat me to a coffee! ⭐︎ kinktober masterlist

taglists (see pinned post on my blog for form)

general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen, @devlovesramen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin, @kac-chowsballs, @osamusmiya

akaashi: @why-aminot-dead, @lotsoffandomrecs, @atsunakaashi, @heyhinata

#ahkaahshi gets wild #akaashi keiji x reader #ahkaahshi's mini kinktober 2020 #haikyuu smut #akaashi smut #akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #x reader #reader insert #haikyuu fanfiction #tw breath play #tw dumbification #fran writes hq!!

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