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#; ❁  I give you my blessing || IC
welcometoteyvat · 5 months
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waterborne poetry you will always be famous
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sugoi-writes · 1 month
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Oh my gosh, today was so LONG (hehehe), GOSH, let's see what's happening today-- ohh! People like my new post? Let's see--
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Oh my GOSSH these two are so sweet! I just-- wait--
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Oh my gosh I KNOW YOU- oh my gosh so sweet HIIII >///<
*looks at other reactions* Heheheh~ hehe-- OH SHIT
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AM I CAUSING KINKS IN THE CHAT, GUYS???
(Also PLEASE read the Mun's spicy-post. I promise you it is WORTH)
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enslaughts · 1 year
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writing is so hard bros
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betwccnworlds · 2 years
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@edrick-rolling​ asked: (I know we don't talk much BUT-) Edrick is going to slide Howell one of his back up concealment stones to try and help.
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Howell blinks a couple of times at the object slid over to him. The man has heard of these before but has never actually held or even seen one. It’s poked carefully a couple of times, mostly out of curiosity and not a silly attempt at activating it. “Errrm. . . How. . . How do I use it? Do I need to say something specific. . . ?”
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lloronala · 2 years
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@blxssoming​ said:  “you’re allowed to need help sometimes.” (from héctor)  ||  more random dialogue prompts
❁ ❁  “  Mira, te he dicho que estoy bien, ¿de acuerdo? If I wanted help, I would have asked for it. I’m not helpless.  ”
Within the past few days, both of them had prepared (or tried to) for the roughest part of their relationship: the mending. Decades of no communication whatsoever, it was hard to go past that obstacle. They (or rather she) was too used to solitude, & although she craved for the attention that was once there, she simply didn’t know how to go back to it.
Therefore, whenever he got too close to her, she began to avoid him. She would make up excuses to not follow the same path he took, & whenever he waved at her, she only frowned a little. When did their love become so complicated? When did she become like this, she wondered.
Even now as he tried to carry a few boxes for her, she insisted on carrying them all herself. & yet, something tugged at her phantom heartstrings. A want, a need---a desire.
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Her back against him, she put the boxes aside & looked the other way. “  Héctor,  ” she said, “  maybe you should go help Julio instead. I can handle this alone.  ”
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convxction · 3 months
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I think Rebecca may be Chrom’s type. Unsure however, more testing might be needed
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A true match made in heaven. No, he is not staring at her like she is the only thing he can see? She's everything he could hope for. He thought his world was colorful but with her, he is seeing new colors he didn't see before--sights, experiences, heck smells.
Life with her is PERFECT.
"Well, well, queen of Ylisse, what are you trying to achieve with this? Haven't you already stole and locked this heart to be yours, and yours only?" hand placed on his chest, over his heart. "Aren't you a bit greedy, my love?"
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Hands gently cups her face, thumbs caressing her cheeks before he kisses her softly. "You don't have to write papers or fill in anything; I love you, and I know you love me. No need for all these roundabouts, perhaps this is the only shortcut I believe in--" and he kisses her again. "Direct and sweet... your style, no?" he chuckles at her leaning to kiss him again. "See? Screw papers... Rebecca, you have my heart and my love. I could've never asked for a better friend, partner and a wife than you. Thank you for giving me all these great memories--thank you for giving me a family, a warm home to return to every day."
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are you mister fayre embrumu's type? | accepting | @pieman1112
#ic.||#pieman1112#verse.|| the sky travelers#[your honor..........this is illegal she knew she would get them all slkdjfsd greedyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!#[I LOVE YOU REBECCA WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#[add give him a father figure too#[she loved him/gave him confidence in his actions/got a father in hunter/gave him a big family/keeps him on his toes#[what else can she do for him???????? ALSO HELLO?? GHOSTY IN LAWS XDDDDDD#[with rebecca he got everything..thank you for loving chro m ;u;#[hes just pointing at her: my wife my queen my everything i love you i love you i love you i love you i love ----#[naga bless these two for eternity#[SLAMS HANDS ON DESK. LOOK AT HOW THEY COME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1#[them: staring at each other (weird...)#[also them after a while: *stealing glances at each other* meanwhile hunter: HMMMMMMM......#[later on: krumb: ok i ...--rebecca: i like you~ ch/rom: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! o-oh...i like you too ;u#[hunter in a corner: let me warn you. i got guns. lots of them.#[c/hrom: no problem. shoot me if i make her cry#[also chr/om: he wont shoot me right????????#[I CAN WRITE AN ESSAY ABOUT THESE TWO#[i didnt event mention their trips to the UEG ...#[or their children growing up..........#[or rebecca knowing how much he liked a big family that she gave him lucina thomas maria chloe and sawsan...........................waa...w#[is2g im ...imlovethemsobs#[to hell with swords when he got the perfect waifu
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spydcddya · 4 months
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hakuto peaks head from the bush , mewing softly before it trudges to settle at the man's feet , beating at the human's laces . it's dangerous , you should know better , nya !
UNPROMPTED ASK » ANSWERED.
↳ @oblyvn accepting !
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the threat of night, with the alleyways in question as he pivots to travel the long corridor ; it never gives him pause, because twilight's done this before. the man wasn't aimlessly wandering but intentionally taking the beaten path for ( reasons ) required. there wasn't any hesitation in his step til a white tuft of fur nestles at his feet in stubborn resistance, blocking his very stride.
❛ sumimasen, neko-san, but i am in a bit of a hurry. ❜ eyes downcast lift up towards the darkened space with suspicion. eyes now slit. ❛ - are you keeping me from something ? perhaps something i don't see ? ❜
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decidentia · 4 months
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◈   @chronal-anomaly said: ❛ "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." Bathed in the glow of the fiery rising sun, Odessa's face softened. Stress lines relaxed, the growl of nightmares long faded by the morning hour and years of hardened labor and stress disappeared. Odessa seemed to be a totally different person in the dawn. Lena wasn't entirely sure when the sketchbook appeared in her hands, when she began highlighting the curve of the woman's lips, the flop of a loose mohawk over her eyes. Something felt vibrant, if temporary, and Lena wanted to capture it for as long as possible. Lena bent over the woman, gazing through her eyelashes at the sleepy but adoring look on the junker. Her face split into a grin as Lena captured Odessa's lips with her own. The sketchbook sat abandoned on the bed beside the former pilot. "Good morning, m'queen." ❜
In that timeless space between sleep and waking, Odessa remembered Lena’s face.  Eternally youthful and pinched with concern, framed by an empty sky of brilliant, blinding blue.  Knurled metal vibrated at her back, while tentative fingers sought her wounds, plugging them.  Still the blood leaked out of her, dripping through corroded holes in the truck bed, making sand curl and bead in a sparse, speckled trail that blazed back to Junkertown.  Odessa wondered, vaguely, if her blood remained deep in the beds of Lena’s nails even now.
No, surely not.  That misadventure had played out days ago, and in the wake of wounds the queen’s life was made to move at a slower pace.  As dawn crept over the horizon, in irradiated shades of carmine and coral, there was nowhere else she needed to be, no business that pressed.  Instead, her sleepy attention was given to her bright-eyed bedfellow.
There was no better awakening, no manner more soothing after a slumber punctuated by nightmares.  Trauma had a way of burrowing into the mind, and in the dark horror seeped from those holes like an infection.  A different kind of bleeding, wounds that could not be sutured and would never entirely heal.  Odessa knew her beloved little bird carried similar scars, that she understood what it meant to live, to lug grief with her.
“G’mornin’ yerself…”
A hazy smirk tugged at the queen’s mouth, scarred lips lifting even as they pursed.  From amidst the body-warm sheets a tanned hand emerged, coming to rest at the nape of Lena’s neck.  Better to have the former pilot come to her, and to hold her there, than to disturb the shrapnel sites.  Linen bindings wound around Odessa’s abdomen, beneath which days-old lacerations were beginning to knit and itch. 
Only once she had her fill of Lena’s lips – kissing her sleepily, adoringly – did her crimson gaze skirt towards what passed for a nightstand.  A grill-faced locker, dented and lustreless, upon which was perched a book.  That was something new.
“Wouldja look at that…” Dez murmured, raising an arm to make room for Lena by her side, should she choose to settle there.  “Didn’t know you kept a diary.”
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NEW ICE NINE KILLS SONG. EXPLODES INTO MILLIONS OF BILLIONS OF SMITHEREENS
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nathaslosthershit · 3 months
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Teen Dad (OP81)
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(Part 1 of the Blind Item Series) (Part 1 of the Teen Dad OP AU)
Summary: Rumors are flying about a young driver with kids
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Seeing the rumor, and various other tweets commenting on the matter, first thing this morning was like getting a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Oscar immediately sat up, frightening his fiancée who was asleep next to him a moment before.
“What? What's wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up.
“Fuck this is not good.” He mumbled as he looked through more tweets. He knew he had minutes before his PR team started messaging him on how best to proceed. 
“Osc, you are really scaring me. What is going on?” His fiancée asked again. After 5 years together and two kids, she knew him well enough to know that Oscar isn’t easily woken up. While he usually wakes up early to train or help the kids, on days like today where he has the chance to sleep in, he will usually take it. But the amount of notifications he started getting were enough to get him to check his phone and once he saw the severity of the situation he was awake and alarmed. 
“A blind item about a ‘younger f1 driver with two kids he had as a teen’ just went up. No confirmation on who but it seems they have gotten it down to only a few of us. They don’t know yet but I am sure they will know soon.” 
He was grateful they hadn’t clocked in on him but Oscar was sure with a bit more time to dig people would put two and two together. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he was a teen dad, not anymore at least. When he was even more so an up and coming driver, he kept it hush because he was nervous being 18 with two kids would lead teams to reconsider where his priorities were, his family or his career. That wouldn’t have been crazy of them to do though, as important as racing was to Oscar, he would always pick his family first. Luckily, though, he had a great enough support system so he didn't have to choose. 
Most people in Oscar’s life knew. Any teams apart from Prema, Mclaren, and Alpine were none the wiser but why would they need to know? Not all drivers knew either, some who he had become closer to were let in on the secret, especially Logan, who had been there the entirety of his kids' lives. Annoyingly, at least in Oscar’s opinion, he has been titled ‘the cool uncle’ from day one. 
“What do we do?” his fiancée asked, snapping him out of his spiraling.
“I imagine it is up to my team to figure that one out. I’ll message them now. Get the kids ready and I’ll be done in time to help with breakfast.” He said as he got up.
After a long, pretty impromptu, call, it was decided Oscar would make a statement about it before it was revealed to be him. He wasn’t too happy about not getting to really do it on his own terms but this is the way it worked out, and hey, Oscar would be lying if he said he wasn’t already planning which race he was going to bring his kids to first.
oscarpiastri
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liked by mclaren, logansargeant, landonorris, and 518,294 others
oscarpiastri This is of course not how I wanted to do this. I had hoped to have more time before I had to let the peace of privacy go but these things happen when you are in the spotlight. So yes, I am a father of two great kids and I have been since I was 18. I am not ashamed by the fact I was a teen dad, and am certainly not hiding my kids out of anything but love. I hadn’t realized I could truly love anything or anyone more than racing but then these two came into my life and I realized I would give it all up for them. Luckily, with the support of their mother (who is my fiancée) and my family, I didn’t have to give it up. My four person family means more to me than anything and I count my lucky stars each night that I have been blessed with them. I ask that you please respect our privacy. This isn’t the end of you seeing the Piastri twins but I, being the over protective father I am, am not ready to throw two 3 year olds into the chaos of the motorsport world just yet.
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Part 2: A Much Needed Interview out now!
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s-4pphics · 6 months
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click! 3 (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]
WORD COUNT: 7.4k 
WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black :3, crack, light smut [masturbation], sexual tension… it’s starting, light angst, weed, brief mention of suicide, pretty cute tbh
one. two. four.
A/N: hi stinks :3 i’m obsessed with them….. taking my time with these two hope yall like it LOL bye
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Butterflies are fluttering, birds are chirping, and the crops are watered when you wake. You slept through the entire night, and the beast inside you is satisfied. 
But the gorgeous scenery in your mind dies in an instant when you recall what the fuck you did last night. Maybe you are a low-down, dirty whore, just like your roomie said. She has the audacity to terrorize your subconscious enough to actually feature in one of your meat-beat sessions. Not only that, but you busted in two minutes to the thought of her demanding you to fix a window that isn’t even broken. 
You… are a hoe. How awkward. You just wanted to fight her days ago, and now your pussy’s got a crush. Not you, your pussy. You accepted that you and your cunt are two separate entities a long time ago. 
You lay in your bed, eyes melting holes into the ceiling; What the fuck is going on?
Ellie… sex… her asking for head… you asking for head from her… The math isn’t mathing. Ellie’s gay as a bitch, you know that for a fact, but why her? The math has never mathed, actually. You’re going to fail statistics, speaking of… Is statistics considered math? 
It’s still freezing in your apartment. Is Ellie still not back yet? Your shared space is never this silent or cold; A rat could be crawling around in search of cheese and you would hear it like a hounddog. 
You throw your blankets off and instantly regret it; You’re shocked snow isn’t falling from inside your fucking apartment. It has to be negative thirty in this bitch. If Ellie’s asleep, you don’t know how she survived the night. 
Your knees crack as you quietly pull your door open, light creaks from the hardwood sounding your walk to Ellie’s bedroom. You can’t imagine how crazy you look, ear pressed against her door, listening for any movement to prove that she’s alive and not a fucking block of ice. 
Either you’re hallucinating, or she’s mumbling in her sleep. Her voice is hushed and croaky, supposedly asking if Spider-man stole her fucking lunch money to pay the Pope back for stealing… something; You can’t pick up what she said from out here. Your hand flies over your mouth to hide a laugh. She must be exhausted; When did she get back last night? 
You let her sleep-talk in peace and head to the kitchen to brew your coffee. You really beat off to that bonehead. Go figure. 
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For the first time since Ellie moved in, you’re gone before her. 
You’re strolling the icy streets, strutting to your heart’s content, Tina Snow vibrating your eardrums. Last night’s nut really did something incredible to your spirit; You’ve never felt lighter. One more unsuspecting gust of wind and you’re taking flight, for sure. Your brain gives subconscious Ellie knuckles. 
You burst through the coffee shop like you own it, silently celebrating when you realize there’s no line. You order and receive your dark drink in record time, taking a seat by the large window at the back of the shop. What gorgeous scenery! 
Your cup is almost empty when your phone vibrates on the table. It’s Maymay! You answer with the brightest smile. “My babyyy— “
“Bitch, cut the shit! Fuck you! Why haven’t you called?” She yells through the line. 
“Well, uh…” You almost committed arson in your building! “Just… just school stuff! You wouldn’t know about that, Ms. Celebrity!” 
Your best friend giggles, “Shut up! I’m a D-lister at most!” You shake your head in denial; That internship program doesn’t understand the blessing that Amaya holds. Her ear is godsend and she comprehends sound like no other. 
“How’s the roomie thing going? I haven’t heard much!” 
Oh, fuck. “… Fine.” 
She’s silent for a second, “The fuck does that mean?” 
Your fingernail snaps between your teeth. “I mean it’s fine, just like I said.” 
Amaya hums, clearly suspicious, “… Whatever you say, then.” 
“Yup.” 
She snorts. “Anyway… what’re you doing for Chri— “
“Ellie made me bust with her telepathy.” This is not the conversation you should be having in a coffee shop, but if people heard you, fuck it. 
“… Bitch… What?” 
“I didn’t wanna tell you, okay? I didn't! Incel made her way into my fucking brain and I busted! Sue me!” 
Silence passes, and then there’s laughter from the other line. “Are you high right now?” 
“No, it’s fucking nine in the morning— “
“Ain’t nothing wrong with a lil’ wake-and-bake— “
“I just told you I mentally fucked my roomie and that’s what you say?” 
She sighs, “I mean… I saw the picture you sent me. She's not ugly. Doesn’t seem like your type, though.” 
“She’s not my type! I thought about her for two seconds on accident and I came! Abby couldn’t even get me there and she—” 
“Woah, woah, pause… Abby couldn’t get you where?” 
“Not a location, bitch. I couldn’t bust!” A sharp gasp from her. Your brows furrow, “What?” 
“Oh, bitch…”
“What, Maya?” 
You hear the smile in her tone, “You gotta crush?” 
You gag, “Fuck no! Have you lost your mind! My…” You pause and check to see if anyone’s near. Nobody. You whisper-shout into the speaker, “My pussy’s crushing!” 
Amaya sucks her teeth in annoyance, “Girl…”
“It’s true! You know she gotta mind of her own! I can’t do anything about that!” 
Your bestie’s snickering to herself, “Whatever you say, mama. But for someone that thinks with her clit… you might wanna have a conversation with her. You know her better than anybody.” 
You’re stunned to say the least. You love Amaya to death, but she’s batshit crazy to suggest that you’re crushing on someone like Ellie. She called you a worthless tramp in broad daylight, for fucks sake. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but it still stung a little. 
You sip your coffee, “I love you… I gotta go.” 
“Mhm…” You hate how sure she sounds. “Love you, too.” 
You nervously twiddle your fingers until your first class, the day dragging even more than usual. Mainly due to the fact that you’re wondering if Amaya was right. Your lectures feel like a blur; All you can think about is Ellie. The spot-covered hermit. Squash-loving loser with a decent nose… and decent hands… and decently toned arms. 
Your pussy squeezes in the middle of class when you briefly envision them wrapped around you, and it sends a shockwave to your brain. 
Oh, shit. 
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Raja was sweet enough to cover your shift for you; You can’t focus on credit card sales today. 
The second you enter your freezing apartment, you hear quiet sobs. Ellie sits at the small table as she scrolls through her phone, forms scattered all over the glass. She’s sniffling and wiping her face with her hoodie sleeve, and your brows crease. 
You shut the door behind you before making your way over to her. Not too close, though. 
“Uhh… you good?” 
“Yeah.” Her voice breaks, and something shifts in you. Somewhere in your chest. Why’re her cheeks so red?
“… You sure?” You cringe. 
“I said yeah.” 
She clearly doesn’t want to chat. Whatever’s going on, she can handle on her own. She doesn’t need coddling, especially from you. Why’re you still standing here?
“I, uh… I found a Snicker’s.” You slip. 
Ellie finally faces you, clearly confused. Why can’t you just shut the hell up for once? Another shift from your chest at her teary eyes. 
“What?” 
“I mean, uh, I bought a Snicker’s. Like, candy.” You pull said bar from your puffer pocket. You did buy it for Abby for when you see her to study, but it looks like your roomie needs it more. 
“… Okay?” 
You pull out and hand the wrapped chocolate out to her, “You’re not you when you’re hungry.” 
Her eyes switch between your face and the candy bar; She doesn’t look impressed. Maybe she’s allergic to nuts! You knew you should’ve got the fucking Sour Straws—
“Thanks.” 
You barely register her taking the bar, her cold fingers brushing against yours. Another zap in your brain. She rips it open and eats it in silence. An awkward chuckle from you, “Is it yummy?” You expect her to tell you to fuck off, but she doesn’t. She just nods and chews. 
Your nosiness gets the best of you, discreetly inspecting the forms on the table. A bunch of random names are crossed out in her notebook, a couple of signed forms crumpled up and raggedy. You don’t know what any of this means. 
“You’re not slick.” Ellie talks with her mouth full.
“Hm?” 
“You’re really gonna read my shit like that?” 
You take a seat next to her, “… I didn’t.” 
“Okay,” She mumbles. “Remember…” She scratches at her ear, “Remember that booking that got canceled because of the storm?” You nod. She swallows the last bits of her candy. “I was supposed to take pictures of this couple before their wedding, but…” 
“They, uh… They don’t wanna reschedule. Said it’s too hectic because of the holidays and there’s not enough time.” 
You hum, “Okay… So, what does that mean?” 
“I can’t submit my portfolio without those pictures. And it fucked my money up.” 
“Damn… how much were they paying?” 
She scoffs, “A lot. I don’t even wanna think about how much I lost trying to get the setup right.” 
You ponder for a second, “I mean, I’m sure there’s other people who want nice pics. You’ve been hustling this whole time— “
She interrupts, “I don’t wanna hustle anymore. I’m… I’m tired. It’s fucking exhausting doing promotions by yourself.” 
You hear the stress in her voice, and you feel for her. Being a full-time creative can be pretty shitty at times. Most times. The amount of attempts you’ve had in commissioning in your lifetime is astronomical; Some pick-ups, lots of disappointment. 
“What was the shoot about? Like… the scene, I guess.” 
Ellie nibbles at her lip, “Romance.” 
“Boooring,” You joke. Ellie doesn’t laugh, so you cough awkwardly. “You gotta come up with a new plan, I guess. It’s all about the grind mentality.” 
“You sound like a misogynist with a podcast.” 
You chuckle and she continues, “There’s no new plan. The portfolio I’m submitting is based on emotion. It’s not… complete if love isn’t somewhere in there. That’s how I see it.” 
“Speaking of see, can I?” You arch your brow, “Your portfolio, I mean.” 
“No.” She says plainly. 
“Wha— why not? You saw my paintings!” 
“They’re on the wall… in the living room. There’s no other choice but to look at them.” 
“Bro, what the fuck. You’re not the only visualist in this house! I might have some pointers you could use!” 
“I don’t need pointers from you.” Aggravation clouds her pupils. You try not to take offense to that, but it doesn’t work. 
“Why the fuck not?” You glare. 
Her tone gets louder, “Because you wouldn’t understand it! Why do you wanna help so badly, anyway!”
“I’m—“ But you don’t know what to say. Why do you want to help? Ellie squints, awaiting your answer, but nothing comes out. You’re uncomfortable; It’s suddenly not that cold in here. 
“Whatever. Forget I asked!” You rise and march to your room. Another slammed door, another pending noise complaint. 
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Ellie hasn’t talked to you in days, and you’re not sure why it’s bothering you. You’ve been sending her looks throughout the entire stats lecture, but she hasn’t acknowledged you once. She’s just scribbling and tapping her ballpoint on her notebook. Her notetaking seems very intense from where you sit, her eyes scanning the board. 
Does Ellie like math? Or logistics? Or whatever statistics is considered? Curiosity pokes at you; You don’t know much about your roommate. You’ve been living together for nearly a month, and you haven’t had one valuable conversation yet. What about photography interests Ellie so much? Why does she enjoy disgusting vegetables? When did she get her tattoo? Is she actually gay or are you a dickhead for assuming? 
Your venturing thoughts makes class fly by; Another successful day of not taking useful notes! 
Ellie’s packing her run-down backpack and you watch. She’s meticulously placing her books on top of each, at least from what you can see from the big hole on the side. Her headphones are thrown on, and in one swift motion, her bag is on her shoulder and she’s heading towards the door, holding it open for everyone leaving. 
You swiftly pack and walk towards the exit. Ellie’s too distracted by her phone to notice you turn the corner to watch her. All the students vacant the room, and she lets the door shut. You follow from a distance as she moves towards the staircase, down the steps, out into the quad and onto the open field. She pauses, so you do too. 
You follow her line of vision, right at the sky. It’s pretty today: the sun’s peeking out, just barely, from underneath the dark gray clouds, rays of light highlighting various sections of the quad. 
Ellie unzips and digs in her bag, retrieving the olive-green polaroid before setting her bag down on the frosted grass. She maneuvers around the grass, trying to avoid obstruction from the trees, adjusting her stance, picking the best angle before holding her camera up. One quick flash, and she’s holding a photo of the sky. 
She shakes the picture a bit before squatting to search through her bag, pulling out a large binder and placing the photo in a laminated encasing. You can’t see any of the pictures in detail, but there must be a lot in there. That binder is thick as fuck. 
And just like that, she’s off into the cold. 
You wonder what else is in that binder. 
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You’re starving. The second you get that direct deposit, you’re whipping up something fierce. Shrimp and eggplant have been calling your name for weeks; You’re ravenous for it. 
You run up to the apartment to snag a granola bar, Ellie already in the kitchen, propped against the counter eating Kraft mac and cheese. 
You shut the door behind you, “Wonderful weather we’re having, isn’t it?” 
Ellie stops chewing, eyes large and soft cheeks filled with creamy noodles. “Hm?” 
You walk to the cupboards, mouthwatering for Nature Valley, “It’s just beautiful outside! The trees, the sky! Almost pretty enough to paint, ain’t it!” 
More chewing. She just shrugs, but you’re not having it, “I wish I gotta picture!” 
“… Go take one.” 
“Oh, my fucking god,” you mutter to yourself, “Can I see the picture you took earlier?” 
“… How’d you know— “
“The details aren’t important! I was thinkiiing,” you rip open the wrapping, “if I can’t see your portfolio, I can see that giant photo book you have!” 
She glances around awkwardly, “Were you watching me earlier?” 
“… Well, yes— “
“What the fu— why?” 
“I like seeing people do shit they enjoy.” You shrug and bite your bar. Ellie isn’t looking at you, but her cheeks tint, and it makes you grin. Interesting. 
You chew and swallow, “Especially talented people.” You inch closer, just barely. “You should show me some pictures sometime… I’ll show you some of my secret creations, too. A little exchange, if you will.” 
Her fingers clench around her plastic spoon, and her breathing changes, cheeks even brighter. Her hands are very nice… They look so soft. 
“Think about it,” you say, quieter, just between the two of you, “Call it… roommate bonding.” You crunch and adjust your bag before walking towards the door. “I think it’s overdue!” You throw over your shoulder before shutting the door behind you. 
You’re not sure if Ellie likes or hates compliments. 
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Closing was so hectic; you don’t make it home until one in the morning. Training rookies is probably the worst part about working in hardware; They never know where shit goes. 
You don’t feel tired, though. The drive back home is usually when your exhaustion takes over, but this ride was smooth. Sleep is going to be difficult to come by tonight. 
You unlock your front door and… push. And push. And push again. What the fuck. Something’s blocking the door. You fight with the wood until the crack is wide enough to slip through. The smell in the air is very telling as to why there’s a pile of hoodies blocking the slim opening at the bottom of the door. 
Your mouth gapes at the sight of Ellie on the couch with no pants on, blunt in her hand… blowing O’s. Her eyes are glistening and lazy when she opens them. You quickly shut the door and kick the hoodies in their original position before the scent escapes. 
“Hey,” she mutters. Goosebumps rise on your arms at her voice. 
“… Why the fuck are you chiefing in this no smoke building.” 
She stares like you’re stupid. “De-stressing.”
“Deez-fucking nuts! Ellie, we’re not gonna have a place to sleep if we get caught. Bitch ass Carol doesn’t play that shit.” You hate your landlord with every fiber of your being. The second anyone accidentally breaks a rule, she’s on their ass like grass. You can’t imagine how she’s going to react if she sees Ellie being disobedient on purpose. You’ll both be living out of your car. Fucking hag. 
Your roommate sighs and crosses her legs, boxer shorts riding up her taut thighs. Alright, okay. She pats the empty cushion next to her. 
“I'm bored.” 
“Okay, what about it.” 
She taps the cushion again. Your heartbeat spikes for some reason. “Roommate bonding.” 
You gawk. Ellie’s never been this relaxed in your presence. Her posture is incredibly comfortable, leaning back against the propped pillows, manspreading. Why is it attractive?
So, you drop your bag and unzip your puffer before plopping down next to her. She says nothing, just extends the lit herb to you. You look between her and the big B. “That’s a fat doinker.” 
“… Right.” Ellie puffs once more before attempting to share. 
You push her cold hand back softly, “I don’t smoke.” 
“Okay.” One last long pull from her, and she’s putting out the grass on the ashtray. “Do you wanna play checkers?” She exhales around smoke clouds, cold air blowing in from the barely cracked window. 
“… What.” 
“I said do you wanna play checke— “ 
“Are you a lesbian?” 
Your eyes widen at your own question. Interrogation? Fuck. Ellie’s looking around the warm space blankly as if she’s trying to register what the fuck you just said. You’re a fucking asshole. 
“E-Ellie, I’m sorry, I dunno why I asked— “
“Can you not tell.” 
“Well, yeah.” You stutter, “… But I thought it was like… fucked up to assume based on uh, appearances, or whatever. I don’t have good gay-dar, so.” 
“I’ve been called a carpet muncher since I was eight.” 
“… Fuck, really?” She nods, face flat. Your fist extends, silently asking for knuckles, “Me too! That’s what’s up.” 
“I almost killed myself.”
Your fist drops with your expression. “Oh… uh, damn… Sorry… I’m glad you didn’t, though, real shit.” 
“What does love feel like?” 
This conversation is giving you whiplash. “Are you one of those fake-deep potheads? Like, you believe in flat earth and all that other bullshit?” 
Ellie blinks dumbly, “Uhh… I don’t think so…” 
“Why do you ask?” 
Ellie points at the wall, at one of your paintings. Two women laying on a bed of grass, completely at peace, surrounded by colorful flowers and butterflies. A small smile spreads across your face, recalling how excited you were to show your first girlfriend what you made for her birthday. 
“Love feels like you're getting shot… but not in a bad way.” You ramble. “It’s like… like, fuck I’m really gonna die without this person next to me type shit.” You think back to when you made the painting on the wall, the memories of your younger self so deeply infatuated with another person for the first time. It felt eternal back then, souls interconnected. 
But then your eyes travel to the next painting, right below the latter. Complete void, no color, no life, just darkness, and your expression falls. The faceless girl trapped in the center of madness is calm, though, accepting her doom with grace. 
“That makes it worse, though…” You think of Dina and how you fought. How nasty it got. How disgusted she seemed with your presence. You almost want to cry as you relive it. “When they leave… something inside you really does die. That space never really gets filled again. You’re just kinda… stuck with a hole until you croak over.” 
“What if they don’t leave?” 
They all leave. “… I’m not sure yet.” 
Ellie hums and it goes quiet for a moment. You wonder what she’s thinking about. 
“Are you a lesbian?” Your roommate throws back at you. You laugh, “Are you asking if I eat coochie?” 
Ellie nods with a giggle. You stiffen; This is the first time you’ve heard her laugh. The hairs on your arms stand upright at the sound. 
“As a matter of fact, I do!” Ellie laughs harder, head resting against the back of the couch. You watch the apple of her cheeks heighten. But then the wind blows harder than normal and they drop. She's blank again. “The heater…” 
“What about it?” 
“It’s broken…” 
Fuck. “Did you put in a maintenance request?” Her head shakes. 
“Uh… why not?” 
“Because I heard you masturbating and forgot.” 
Your heart, stomach, pride is at your feet, “… What did you just say.” 
Ellie finally looks at you, eyes doe-like, guilt swimming in them. “I’m… I’m sorry! I was sleeping and I woke up to pee but I couldn’t because you were— “
“Ellie— “
“It kept… buzzing, and I couldn’t move! I kept asking
myself how is her stamina this fucking good! It didn’t turn off until like… an hour later! I almost pissed in my bed— “
Your body heats at her confession; She thought about your stamina? You place a hand on her shoulder to ease her, and she stops. “It’s okay. I just… Yeah, this is awkward… We gotta submit that request before that next blizzard or we’re fucked.” 
Ellie mutters in agreement, but she’s not listening. She’s eyeing your fingers, the ones resting on her shirt. If you move your thumb an inch, you’ll touch her collarbone. 
“We, um… We can send it in the morning…” She whispers okay, and your fingers curl around the fabric. A sharp inhale from her, and you sigh. Her warm breath is hitting your wrist and you’re trying not to squirm. You watch her chest rise and fall at a steady pace, eyes flicking between yours and your hand. 
You watch her and she watches you, hand inching up until you’re tracing the warm skin under her tee. Your nail scratches her collarbone, just barely, and the muscles in her thigh jerk. Nope. Not happening. You pull away and stand. 
“This was… you’re funny.” You stare at your feet; You never took your shoes off. “Uh… bye.” 
“Bye.” Her voice is flat. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you fucked up. 
Your shoes go flying and you rush to your room. You’re not sure if you slammed the door or not; The pounding in your ears is too loud. 
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Ellie fucked up. She knows she did. 
I heard you masturbating and forgot? You left over an hour ago, and she’s still replaying that moment in her mind. What the fuck was she thinking? She wants to peel her skin off and her stomach is in knots. The ghost of your hand is still on her. She was freezing before you came home, and now she’s overheating. 
Ellie thinks she’s done a good job of acting normally around you after that night. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about it. All the time. 
She hates how, every night since it happened, she listens for you. When you come home in the wee hours of the night, the devil convinces her that you’re aching and desperate, dripping and ready to get yourself to the peak you crave. You’ve been working so hard; You deserve to wind down. 
It’s sick, she knows. She masks it well, but every time you're home, she’s hot. Roommate bonding, you’d said. Why did you say it like that, though? You sounded so alluring, like a siren preparing for a kill. 
Maybe she’s reading into it too much. You're a flirt and you’re good at it… 
It’s either hot or cold with you. Compliments, or cursing. Admiration or judgment. There’s no middle ground, and it’s driving her crazy. 
Why did you have to touch her? You could’ve kept your distance like you’ve been doing, like you did in the kitchen. You gave her a chance to run at arm's length. 
Ellie’s thoughts are racing; She needs to smoke again, but she’s too distracted to spark. That ache between her thighs is overpowering. 
Her eyes travel over the painting that captured her attention a few weeks ago. A small self portrait of you. She commends your attention to detail, but still, you’re so gorgeous in person; There’s no comparison. 
Two deep breaths, and her hand is shoved in her boxers, fingers slippery in seconds. She keeps her eyes glued to the painting as she rubs her clit in quick circles, the bud increasing her sensitivity. 
It’s like the painting moves with every squeeze of her walls: she can almost see your animated eyes rolling into your skull, your pink tongue out, drool dripping down your chin. And your voice… It’s tantalizing when you want something. She can almost hear you now: it’s so good, right there, I love when you touch me like that. 
Fuck, she wants your hands on her. Everywhere. Anywhere you want. She’s breathing so loud; She hopes you dozed off by now, even in your noticeably restless state. 
But what if you’re not? What if you forgot something in the living room, or need a drink of water before bed, and you walk in and see the mess you make her? Her hand moves faster at the thought of you angry, disappointed that she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. She’ll never say, but something wicked happens in her underwear when you're fuming. She likes how expressive your eyes are. 
Her free hand flies over her mouth as her stomach tightens, the beats in her clit and heart synced. She's so close. A few seconds, and she groans into her hand, the walls melting around her when it finally crashes. Tears jerk in her eyes as she rubs herself through it, riding it out for as long as she can. 
The hand on her mouth slides under her shirt, cold fingers prodding her nipple as her orgasm descends. She gasps into the cold air, trying to catch her breath. She palms her clit and her walls twitch. She tiredly plops onto the couch, hand still in her underwear, eyes glued to your portrait, scaling the wall until she revisits the depiction of you and your first girlfriend. 
The idea Ellie’s been sitting on for the last few days crashes down on her again. You’re soft, despite what others may say. You seem like a lover. 
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It’s Friday. Rent is due. Fuck. 
You just got paid, and now more than half of your earnings is in your landlord's pocket. You haven’t even been grocery shopping yet. 
Ellie has, apparently. It smells so good in the kitchen. You take back whatever you said about her and her cheffing skills. That soup was delicious; You secretly hope she cooks more. She can get down… a little bit. 
You wipe the tired from your eyes and make way to the kitchen, and your jaw drops, stunned in your spot by the fridge. Empty grocery bags are stacked on the counter, and Ellie’s frying shrimp and eggplant. 
“Hi… you didn’t eat last night. I heard you talking about egg— “
Your whimper, followed by several guttural sobs interrupt her greeting, hand flying over your mouth. Ellie simply stands by the counter with wide eyes, fork in hand. 
Ellie thinks you’ve stopped crying, “Uh… I just wante— “
More loud sobs from you. Snot dribbles down from your nose and Ellie cringes, tearing a piece of paper towel and handing it to you. You take it graciously and blow your nose. 
“This is,” sob “the best thing a-anyone,” sniffle… sob “has ever done f-for me.”
Ellie just nods and flips the eggplant. You can’t control yourself, arms wrapping around her waist, sobbing into her back. 
“I, um… Consider it a peace offering, I guess.” 
“I take back,” heave “I take back whatever dumb shit I said about you before you moved in,” heave “You’re so… fuck you, Ellie!” You hug her tighter. 
“Queers gotta stick together.” She mumbles. 
“Like wet pussy lips!” You wail, fat tears seeping into her t-shirt. She snickers to herself, “Get a plate.” 
You sniffle all the way to the cupboards and set the tiny table. 
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Chef Butch. That’s Ellie’s new name around these parts. 
For someone who supposedly “hates eggplant”, she seasoned and fried the fuck out of it. Get this bitch on the Food Network!
You’re full and energized before leaving the house for once. You don’t even need your morning coffee. 
“Hey, uh… can I ask you something?” Ellie calls from the table.
You pause dish scrubbing to look at her, “Mhm.” 
“It’s kinda… a big deal.” She mutters, eyes flickering nervously. 
“… Should I sit down, or?”
“It’s not bad. It’s just… I don’t know.” 
You rinse your hands and set the last plate on the rack to dry. You grab a clean towelette and sit across from her. Ellie can’t meet your eyes and her cheeks are fiery. You smirk. 
“Need help with something?” 
Her head bobs, eyes glued to the table. 
“Then ask me.” You lean closer. Ellie whispers your name. A deep sigh from her, lips parting around her question. 
“Do you wanna model for my portfolio— “
“Of course I’ll help you send nudes— “
Confusion paints her face, “What.”
“…What.” 
“What did you just say.” 
“Nothing.” You shrug, face burning. 
“You can say no. It’s not that serious.” That guarded twinge in Ellie’s voice has returned. You don’t like it. 
“You think I’m pretty?” You tease with a pout. 
“What.” 
“You think I’m sooo hot and sexy that you’re gonna make me the star of your— “
Ellie blushes, “You’re not the… star of anyth— “
Your hands wave excitedly, “I’m so honored! I’d love to! When do we start!” 
Ellie sighs, massaging her temples, “Do you have work on Sunday?” 
“Not anymore!” You do a little dance in your seat, “What am I gonna be doing in the pics, o ye camera master?” Her ears are so red. Why is she so fucking nervous? You’ve already accepted! 
“Just look like you’re in love.” 
“… Oh.” 
Ellie grimaces at your tone, “Listen, I only have two weeks to finish this submission. I haven’t had any luck finding people to help me out!” 
You pause, “Is this why you buttered me up with a buss down plate?” 
“… Would you hate me if I said yes?” 
“Fuck, Ellie— “
“I’m desperate!” She exclaims, “But I also don’t wanna just ask anybody! I need the photos to be believable! And you kinda… you kinda get it!” Ellie points to the painting of you and your first love. 
The silence is thick as you explore her face. Her forestry-filled eyes are nervous, but there’s a glimmer of hope in her pupils. You like it; Her orbs look brighter. Greener somehow.
“I wanna see it, then.” 
“See what?” 
“Your big ass binder… and your portfolio!” 
Her eyes roll. “Pick one.” 
“Wooow, you’re really gonna ruin another opportunity for roommate bonding? That’s wild. Alright.” 
“Pick one.” She’s stern with her demand… You like that, too. 
You smirk. “Show me your portfolio.” 
She crosses her arms over her chest. “You see it when it’s finished. After the pictures are done. Take it or leave it.” 
“Okay, damn,” You give up, “So… what do I gotta do for prep?” 
“Not much right now. I have to set up my equipment and all that…” She glances around the living room, “we’ll talk about the rest later.” 
“‘Kay.” You twiddle your fingers together before the biggest light bulb shines over your head. 
“I also get 40% of the earnings— “
“Fuck no.” She says with a small grin. You pout. 
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You knew something was wrong when Abby randomly invited you over to study… on a Saturday night. You don’t know how she’s a STEM major; You haven’t seen her with a book since you’ve met her! 
The second she opened her door, something was off. It’s been days since you’ve seen her and she barely reacted to the grilled cheese you brought. Her answers have been curt and she’s not laughing at any of your jokes. Your Cheetos are doing a great job at soothing your anxiety. You want to comfort your friend with whatever’s bothering her, but you’re not sure how. 
So, you talk. And talk. And talk about Ellie.
“I’m not gonna lie,” You crunch, comfortable on Abby’s beanbag. “I’m kinda excited! I’ve never done a photoshoot before.” 
Abby shrugs from her work desk, voice monotone, “I mean, just be mindful. It’s obviously not a game for her so you needa take it seriously.” 
Your brows furrow, “What do you mean?” 
“Your roommate slash crush— “
Your head shakes, “I don’t have a crush— “
“Slash crush,” Your friend emphasizes, “asked you to be a part of probably one of the biggest creations of her life. If that photo book or whatever is as important as you say, it’s not just a “photoshoot” for her.” 
… Nah, you’re still confused. 
Abby scoffs, “A photoshoot about romance and you’re her only model, making you breakfast, and whatever else she’s done! How much does she have to spell it out for you?” 
“I don’t understand why you’re yelling!”
“I’m not fucking yelling! I’m watching out for you before you do something you regret!” 
You sit up straighter, “And what does that mean!”
“What have you been saying this entire time? I don’t wanna live with someone I fucked!” She mocks, “It seems like y’all are pretty close to that.” 
You stare pensively, “We haven’t fucked and we’re not going to! You’re doing the fucking most!” 
“Yeah, whatever.” She continues to scribble. 
“Abby… what’s wrong?” You clumsily stand from the bean bag. “I’m so con— “
“You wanna know what’s wrong?” She snaps, pen slamming on the desk. “Every time we see each other, you talk about her! I’m sick of hearing about… whatever the fuck you have going on at home, quite frankly! We can’t even joke around because you’re so pressed about someone you don’t even like!” 
You’re going to cry; You can feel it. Abby’s never been this upset with you, “Why did you wait so long to tell me this? I would’ve stopped coming to you a long time ago!” 
“Because I cared and didn’t want you to feel by yourself while Maya’s away! That’s why! But now, it’s like…” 
A tired sigh from her and she gives up, hand waving dismissively, “Talking about this shit is pointless. I’m going to bed. Shut the door behind you.” Abby rises and brushes past you, switching her lamp off and climbing into her warm bed. You allow your tears to fall as you gather your belongings, gently shutting her door behind you and attacking your face with your sleeve. You hate crying in public. 
The elevator ride feels much longer than it should’ve been as you weep. The doors shutter open, and you can see the weather is not on your side. It’s pelting bullets outside; You knew you shouldn’t have walked. 
“You got a ride?” 
You look over at the security guard perched behind the front desk. Fuck all feds, but Stanley’s cool. You shake your head. 
“You can’t walk home in that. Driving is also dangerous but,” He shrugs, and you sigh. You pull your phone out of your pocket. 
“Hey, Siri… Call Chef Butch…” 
“CALLING CHEF BUTCH.” 
Stanley’s warm laughter eases your shoulders. 
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DING!
You unlock your phone and smile at Ellie’s text, rising from your chair. 
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“Alright, Stan. Pray I don’t turn into Frosty out there,” You throw over your shoulder. 
He laughs, opening the heavy door for you, “I will! Get home safely!” You throw your hood over your beanie, easing past him and nearly being blown away by the fucking wind. How did Ellie drive in this shit!
You somehow manage to follow the view of your car, pounding on the passenger window to get Ellie to unlock it. You miss your step on the curb and fall face first into the seat. You hear Ellie’s laughter. 
“You alright?” 
“Yup! Fucking peachy, thanks!” You stumble in and slam the door with the wind, out of breath, body melting from the heat. “You couldn’t have parked a little closer?” 
“… No.” 
You stare at her through the snow in your lashes, “Ellie, take us home, please. I’m annoyed and going through a fucking breakdown, like I can’t be outside right now. I’m gonna pass out!”
“… You wanna talk about it?” 
“No.” You spit. 
“Alright.” She puts the car in drive, but her foot is still pressed on the brake. 
“I just can’t believe this shit right now!” You ramble anyway. “You think you know a person, like, fuck! This is stupid!” You punch the glove compartment. 
“… What happ— “
“Like, fuck! Fuuuck! Like what the fuck!” 
You’re screaming your head off and Ellie’s just watching, face flat as ever. It makes you scream louder. But your wails pause when your eyes flicker downward. Veiny hands clenched around the steering wheel. Your screams suddenly sound like whimpers. When’s the last time you had sex?
Is it sad that the thought of Ellie choking you out is easing your meltdown? This is the worst day ever! 
“I’m gonna rip my fucking face off— “
“Why're you staring at my hands like that?”
“What the fuck, I’m not staring. Be quiet.” 
Your roommate grins like a fox, “Okay.” 
The car’s moving and so are your eyes, all over Ellie, wherever they can reach. You’re pissed and horny and you need a shot. 
“You ever get the urge to strangle the fuck outta someone?”
“Mhm.” 
You ponder, “How does it feel to smoke weed?” 
She shrugs, “It feels good.”
“How good? Scale of one to ten.” 
“… Thirteen.”
“Better than sex?” You ask quietly. Your brain is elsewhere, locked on the bulging blue veins in her hand, following the lines through her hoodie. 
She ponders, “… Yes.” 
“You’re biased, though. I can’t trust you.” 
“Stop staring at my hands like that.” Her low voice is like a kick in your back, spine slightly arching in your chair. You’re glad she’s looking at the road; She’s making you go into heat and she doesn’t need to see it. Maybe Abby was right about you being a fucking hypocrite. 
“Or what?” Your tone is icy, and she licks her lips. 
“I’ll pull over.” 
You shudder at her boldness, “Pull over.” 
Your car jerks to a stop and you jolt forward, eyes still glued onto Ellie’s mouth. One kiss… It isn’t sex. It’s just kissing; Who doesn’t love kissing? You’re alone and warm and it’s gorgeous outside. It would be just a kiss. Just one, just one. 
Ellie’s staring at you, eyes reminiscent of the storm outside. Flurrying and dark. Her tongue swipes over her lips again, and your gut swirls. “Stop staring at my hands.” You suck your bottom lip in your mouth when her breath hits it. She’s leaning forward and so are you. Just one kiss, that’s all you need. 
Your pussy’s talking and she’s loud… Literally meowing for her. 
“Is that a fucking cat?” Ellie whispers, nose brushing yours… She can hear that? How horny are you? 
“Dude, that’s a cat! There’s a cat right there!” Her gasps shock you, and you peer out the window, finding a small, dark spot in gusts of white snow. There is a cat! 
“Oh, my fucking god! Ellie, what the fuck—“ You’re pushing the door open and she grabs your arm. 
“Wait, you’re gonna fucking fall— “
“We can’t leave her, she’s gonna die out here!” You rush out in seconds and you’re slipping like a cartoon character on a banana. You’re kissing the air to lure the kitty over, but she just cries. She’s probably starving! 
“C’mere, baby, c’mon!” You hear Ellie muttering curses from behind you. After almost busting your face on icy concrete, you’re finally close enough to scoop up the shivering ball of fur, and you’re sobbing as you wrap your scarf around her tiny body. 
“Ellie,” you choke, “We ca—can’t leave h-her— “
“Okay, okay, stop crying, where is she?” You hold up the bundled fabric and Ellie gently takes her, shoving her in her hoodie before grabbing your wrist and guiding you to the car. Ellie hops in the driver's seat, the car filled with desperate meows and your hysterical sobs. 
Ellie cranks the heat and holds the wrapped furball, softly cooing at her. 
“Where’s your mama, hm?” 
Meow! 
“No mama?” 
Meow! Meow!
You’re wailing, “She’s a fucking or—orphan— “
“Can you be quiet.” Ellie snaps. 
“O—“you sniffle harshly, “Ok—okay— “
“Hold her, I gotta drive. We’re going to Petco.” Ellie’s zooming down the street, whipping and swerving. You’re almost positive she ran a red light. 
“I know you don’t like small animals, but c-can we keep her, please— “
Ellie’s lip curls, “It’s not that I don’t… not like them—” She rambles on, but you’re so focused on the baby in front of you. Poor thing looks so tired. What if she’s sick? Oh God, she would’ve froze to death if you didn’t stop—
You blabber to her between choked whimpers, “I love you so much, we’re gonna get you safe, don’t worry— “
“Oh, my fucking god,” Ellie sighs softly beside you. 
Pheromones will have to wait. You’re a mother now. 
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After your emergency pet escapade, you and Ellie sneak the cat past the complex security and into your apartment. If anyone finds out — if Carol finds out — you’re fucked… and unhoused. 
Small meows are filling your ears. Your baby’s full, at least. Poor thing was horking down minced tuna in the car. Her teeth are so small and cute. She looks like she’s going to doze off soon. 
You watch as Ellie sets up her little area in the living room… Right next to her fucking photography set up when the fuck did she do that—
The corner of the living room is fully decked with maroon and ebony backdrops, Ellie’s sticker-littered camera resting proudly on its stand. There’s a… big ass umbrella-looking thing towering over the setup and a stool on the dark floor cover. There’s a small, white briefcase on it, tied down with a padlock. It’s either a gun or her portfolio. 
“Bring her over here.” 
Your gawking gets cut short as you cradle kitty over to Ellie, handing her over so she can lay her on the small, paw-shaped bed. She’s purring; Your heart’s melting. 
“I see you haven’t changed your mind.” 
Ellie’s tucking your baby in, “About?” She hums.
“The shoot.” You whisper. 
“Why would I?” She faces you and stands. You shrug nonchalantly, but your mind’s racing. You probably found someone worthy of doing it. 
Ellie inches closer, looking down at you. “Consider it roommate bonding… Featuring adopted cat child.” 
You giggle. She's staring at your smile, all over your face. Into your eyes. Yours flicker down to her mouth. Either you're hallucinating, or she’s leaning closer. One kiss won’t hurt. 
“Um…” She whispers, gaze dropping to the floor. “Earlier I was gonna… say something.” 
“What is it?” 
She shrugs, “… I forgot.” 
“Okay.” You’re whispering now. She’s staring at your mouth. Her eyes are hypnotizing; There's a universe in them. A forest with trees that grow for eternities, miles and miles of green meadows. 
“You’re staring.” She mutters. 
“So are you.” 
Ellie wants to say something. You can see it. But she doesn’t, and neither do you. “Gotta get up early… I’ll see you tomorrow?” Her voice cracks. 
You’re cheesing and your hearts in your throat. “Yes. See you tomorrow.” 
One last toothy grin, she’s gone into her room, door shutting softly for the first time. You exhale like you’ve been holding your breath, already missing her presence. 
You’re giddy when you finally climb into bed. You can’t help but think that Ellie is, too. 
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saintmuses · 3 months
Text
❝𝙝𝙚 ����𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣❞
Pairing:
Soft!Dark!Thomas Shelby x Ada’s BSF!Reader
Summary:
Ada’s best friend had been much of a family. When she was requested for her hand in marriage to another, perhaps she was too much of a family.
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Warning(s): slightly Dub-con. Inappropriate touching. Possessive!Thomas. Implied Jealousy. Threat. Controlling. Minors, dni! Note: this is a mini series, so there will be three parts.
Word Count: 963
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She had remembered the feeling the first time she had met Thomas Shelby. He was a kind of person who laughed with a twinkle in his eyes.
She was seventeen when she became Ada’s first friend in Birmingham, and she had only got to meet him for a few months before he enlisted for the Great War. After he came back, his pale blue eyes cascaded in ice, and he didn’t laugh or smile anymore. However, he became more receptive towards her, always having eyes on her as if she was a member of his family or Peaky Blinders.
Ada’s painted lips grew taut as she looked at her apologetically. “Oh, about that…” she trailed off with a sigh as a response to her impending marriage proposal with the man she had been going steady with for a while now.
“What is it, Ada?”
“You would need to consult with Tommy about that. Although I don’t think you should…” Ada trailed off, realizing she had said too much.
Her eyes narrowed at the Shelby sister, catching onto what she was not saying. “And why not?”
Ada hesitated, “I’ve heard that Edward already asked for your hand, but evidently Tommy did not give his blessing.”
Her blood ran cold at the implication of not being able to marry Edward. “Why do I need to ask Tommy for permission to walk down the aisle?” She questioned, fiddling with the hem of her coat. “I’m not really a part of this family.”
“Well, Tommy already considered you as a part of the Shelby family, otherwise he would not let you attend the meetings.” Ada pointed out, flicking off an invisible lint off her coat.
“You mean to tell me that I have to consult with Tommy with any decisions I make regarding my future?” She enunciated each word slowly, but with tension filled with anger. Ada’s gaze turned sympathetic.
“Well, if it’s any consolation, you are not the only one.”
“No,” she said sharply as she fumed internally. Her eyes flashed in irritation. “Because he has already gotten involved with making decisions for my future that has nothing to do with the business of the Shelby family.”
Slamming the doors open with a soft bang, she stormed into his office without glancing at Lizzie who was about to greet her.
“Thomas!” She shouted, gritting her teeth.
He barely looked up from his paperwork that was scattered around on his ordinate desk. “Y/N,” he said simply, placing his pen aside.
She heard Lizzie closing the doors behind her so no one else could interrupt them.
“I heard you received a visitor recently,” she prodded angrily, eyebrows raising to prompt him to speak.
He heaved a sigh which bristled her, and she crossed her arms when he ran his hands down his face before rubbing his eyes as if he just received a headache.
I swear this man-
His words interrupted her internal tirade. “He asked me for your hand in marriage,” he said calmly, intertwining his fingers on top of the desk. “And I said no.”
“And why not?”
He pushed himself out of the chair, grabbing a decanter to pour himself a fresh drink of Irish whiskey. “Because it does not benefit the family if you were to marry a man like him.” Her eye twitched slightly when she heard the glass met wood as he placed the tumbler back on the desk.
“A man like-“ she cut herself off, trying again before anger got the best of her. “He’s respectable, he has wealth which he would be able to provide support for his and my future family, and-“
“And I said no, Y/N.” He said sharply, interrupting her which effectively caused her to close her mouth. His words were stern as he stared down at her with icy blue eyes. 
She looked at him in disbelief, a sense of chill ran through her veins when things did not connect, fitted like pieces of a puzzle. “You can’t make choices for me.”
His lips quirked slightly, “you’ll find that I can.”
Her eyebrows slowly furrowed as she stared up at him, observing his expression. 
Before she could lunge out of the armchair, away from the office, and away from him, he had already anticipated her move, reaching for her.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, dragging her to him, gripping her tightly with a clenched jaw and unbridle danger lurking in his strict gaze.
“Careful, sweetheart.” He warned her softly; However, his tone gave away to the threat that was simmering underneath the surface. 
Her bottom lip trembling as she peered up at him with glistening eyes. “Why would you do that?” She asked quietly, voice shaking inaudibly. “Why would you get involved with my life when it doesn’t even benefit you to begin with?” 
He didn’t say anything yet as his thumb teased the waistband of her skirt before his fingers lightly skimming down between her thighs, brushing her cunt over the thin opaque material and her underwear. 
She was shocked by how reactive her body was to his ghostly touch. She shook her head, looking pleadingly into his cold eyes for some sense of mercy.
He tilted his head before he pressed down hard on her clit through multiple layers of fabrics. She gasped, her entire body jerking at the unfamiliar combination of pleasure and a twinge of pain that seemed to render her immobile, not without a shudder.
He then leaned his head forward, closing the distance between their faces. He lightly brushed his lips against hers, barely touching. “Because if you were going to marry anyone, it would be me.” He murmured, his voice was dangerous as he stared deeply into her eyes before releasing her, stepping away from her presence.
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act II | ❝𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙣❞
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auggieblogs · 4 months
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Ice baths | LN4
Lando Norris x fem! reader
Author's note: Hiii, lovelies. I hope everyone is doing good!!! I am writing after such a long time and my god it feels good. I've been really stressed and busy since the new year's because I have exams coming up and writing while you have so much on your plate is not exactly easy. Hence, my absence from Tumblr and also there was the writer's block😞🙏🏻. Anyways, I hope you all like this fic. Happy reading<3
―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist
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I couldn't believe I let Lando talk me into this. I mean, ice baths? Really? Warm showers had always been my thing – the cozy embrace of steam and gentle heat. But there I stood, in nothing but my bra and underwear, shivering like a leaf, staring at a tub filled with ice-cold water. Lando, stood beside me, grinning like a madman.
"Okay, hold my hand," I said, half-expecting him to talk me out of it. He chuckled, but his grip on my hand was firm and reassuring.
"We go in on three," Lando announced, grinning from ear to ear. As he counted down, we entered the tub together. I yelped as the frigid water made contact with my skin. "Holy mother of ice, it's like jumping into the North Pole!"
Lando, meanwhile, was managing better, though he did shiver a bit. "Shh, shh, relax, baby. It gets better," he said, trying to soothe me. But, as far as I was concerned, it wasn't getting any better.
"Nope, not doing this," I declared, practically leaping out of the tub, water droplets glistening on my skin. My only mission was the towel Oscar had brought for himself.
Oscar, bless his heart, seemed a little flustered. "Bu-but it's mine," he stammered, not quite sure how to handle this towel-stealing situation.
But I wasn't having any of that, either. I practically snatched the towel from Oscar's grasp, giving him an apologetic but determined look. "Oscar, I love you, but I need this more. It's too cold!"
Lando couldn't help but laugh. "Don't laugh!" I protested, wrapping the towel around myself as tightly as I could, hoping it would bring back some warmth.
Lando climbed out of the tub, approaching me with a cheeky grin. "Awh, my poor baby, I'm so sorry," he said in a teasing tone, enveloping me in a bear hug.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "You're having way too much fun, Norris" I mumbled, burying my face in his chest.
Lando's grin widened, and he leaned down to plant a kiss on my forehead. "Maybe a little bit."
I pushed away from his chest and looked up at him, pretending to be offended. "You are so bad, I hate you!" I exclaimed, giving him a playful shove to the chest.
Lando chuckled and held me a little tighter, his voice soft and full of warmth. "I love you too."
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lloronala · 2 years
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She’s judging her husband at the moment.
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myfictionaldreams · 10 months
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Winter Soup // Mafia!Stucky x F!Reader
Summary: There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?
Requested by: @senjoritanana​​ thank you so much, I hope you enjoy all the angst!
A/N: PSA I don't know the specifics of how poisons work and didn't want to risk it on my google history lmao so please ignore any inaccuracies. Please read the tags if you're affected by near death experiences, please proceed with caution and if I've missed any tags/warnings, please let me know!
Warnings/Tags: 18+ readers only, hints of smut, angst (LOTS BUCKLE UP), fluff, polyamory relationship, poisoning, blood and injury, anxiety, crying, begging, near death expierences, reader is injured, pain, emotional hurt/comfort, hospitalization, protective Steve Bucky and Sam, everyone needs a hug tbh
Words: 7.7k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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The warmer months were slowly starting to shift into winter and for some reason this year, the weather change was beginning to affect your health. You’d heard of the phrase ‘seasonal depression’ but you were convinced that it was due to the cooler weather that was making you feel this rubbish.
It had been happening for a week now, and some days you’d feel fine, normal in fact but then others your chest felt so tight as if an elephant was sitting on top of you, nausea, vertigo and heart palpations that would have you clutching your chest with fear you might explode. With each passing day, you would be praying for the summer months to return, especially as the snow and ice increased with intensity outside of your home.
You were fine for the most part, good days and bad; yes you might be getting worse with each passing day but you were adamant that the seasonal illness would pass. However, the frosty weather was also a minor blessing because it was your excuse to stay home and be a pretty housewife for Steve and Bucky. Being able to stay home made it easier to keep the illness to yourself as well, it was a busy time within the Rogers mafia and you didn’t need them wasting their time fretting over your wellness when they had a lot of other things to do. They had many international deals that were so close to being signed for and contracted that every waking hour was spent at the office, on phone calls, and emails, trying to talk to locals across the world to attend meetings on their behalf so the boys were thoroughly busy.
There were a few occasions you’d attended with them to the office if you were feeling particularly needy or lonely but it unnerved you to drive on the snow and ice so when you suggested that you might stay at home, Steve and Bucky offered no complaints.
At home at least you were able to mop about, trying to perk yourself up with movies, pyjamas and your favourite bowl of warm soup. Over the last few months, you’d been trying to improve your cooking skills, especially to impress Steve who usually cooked for three of you. This became more interesting as the colder months drew in over Brooklyn as this meant you could cook more homely, hearty foods such as soups and stews, especially as you had recipe suggestions from the newly hired grounds guard Rafael.
He’d been recommended by a friend of a friend for Steve to hire which was perfect timing because the last grounds guard had retired. There were a few occasions when he was the guard to bring the post to the front door from the front gate and you soon found he was enthusiastic and easy to talk to, even though he was a little bit older, which was how you found out he had previously been a chef and offered to give you recipe ideas. As winter drew in, Rafael began turning up when he knew you were by yourself to deliver some of his momma’s family recipe soups, hoping that the meal would perk you up which it did, they tasted so delicious that you were secretly hoping he would keep bringing them to you, especially as you continued to feel unwell.
“What is it today?”, you asked voice full of hope and trying to sound as upbeat as possible. Even though you were desperately holding onto the door handle as your head was spinning and scared you’d fall over.
“Potato and leek soup and they’re all grown in my back yard so hopefully you’ll love it even more than usual”, Rafael smiled as he handed over the container, his smile broad and causing the aged creases at the corner of his eyes to deepen.
Gleefully you accepted the soup, opening the lid slightly to smell the delicious meal, your stomach grumbling with hunger. Your appetite had reduced significantly over the last few days due to always feeling nauseous however it seemed the only thing that you could stomach was his delicious meals and therefore his arrival was always welcomed.
“Thank you so much! Please will you let me pay you this time? You’re being way too kind to me, always giving me free meals, you’re going above and beyond a usual guard”, you pleaded whilst also having to return holding onto the door handle as it felt like the ground was moving with your dizziness.
Rafael held up his hands and shook his head, taking a step back, “Absolutely not! Just wanted to give you something to make you feel better and make the fairies go away”.
The guard halted, a look of embarrassment passing out his features as he realised what he just said, especially as you asked, “Fairies?”
He awkwardly looked down at his shoes, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to explain, “Yeah it’s just something my momma use to say. If we were feeling unwell, it’s because the fairies had crept into our stomachs and were being naughty and making us ill and now I’ve said it out loud to another person I’ve realised how insane that sounds so I’m going to stop talking”.
You squeezed your lips together to try and contain your laughter but that lasted a moment before you were both laughing which only turned into you losing your balance against the door and swaying to keep yourself upright. The laughter died in Rafael’s eyes as he reached out to you, “Woah, you ok, Ma’am?”
Quickly brushing him off, you took a step back into your home, trying to ask nonchalantly about the situation, “Yeah sorry, probably just the fairies pushing me over”. Your joke didn’t seem to comfort him in any way as he continued to look uneased by your appearance.
Thankfully Rafael didn’t push the situation any further, seeing that you wanted to escape back into the comfort of your home, he took his step back with a simple smile. “Get back inside before you catch another cold from this snow. Eat the soup whilst it’s still warm and I’ll be back tomorrow to hear the verdict on the taste.”
“Thank you Rafael! Enjoy the rest of your day!”. You waved him off and rushed to slam the door, sliding down to the floor against the wood, losing all energy that you’d built that morning just for that one conversation. Ok yes, you were feeling sorry for yourself as you tried to catch your breath, heart pounding violently in your chest that it also echoed in your ears and your vision was still seeing double of everything.
However your stomach continued to gurgle with hunger so without wasting any more energy, you opened the lid and ate the entire contents then and there. Releasing a satisfied sigh at the delicious meal, you took another couple of minutes to gather your senses before dragging yourself over to the living room, collapsing onto your back on the couch and letting sleep take you into a dreamless realm.
A violent shake of your shoulders by a hard grip on your shoulder was what startled you awake as Sam’s voice then surrounded you as he shouted, “Hey! Wake up!”.
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever been close to hating you Sam Wilson”, you croaked before coughs shattered your chest, rocking your body as you tried to sit up and suck in any air between the painful coughs. Finally, you calmed down enough to collapse back against the decorative cushions of the couch and open your eyes to look at the three Sam’s that hovered over you. After a couple more blinks, they merged into one, very distressed-looking bodyguard, eyebrows knitted together and jaw muscle clenched harshly.
Sam reached towards your face, pressing against your cheek in concern, “Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?”
“What? I’m not ill, I’m just tired, can’t a girl nap around here?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow, trying to look as relaxed as possible. 
The man didn’t look convinced as he sat on the edge of the couch next to you. Releasing a heavy sigh which only twinged something in your chest that made you want to cough but you refrained from doing so as you emphasised, “Sam seriously, I’m fine”.
Sam gave you another serious glance, eyes hardening as he explained, “You didn’t sound fine, you were wheezing so hard in your sleep I thought you were going to stop breathing”.
There was no denying the panic that filled your heart and would explain the tightened feeling in your chest but you tried to not let the fear show on your face as you rolled your eyes, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.
“I appreciate your concern Sam, but I feel ok, I’m just tired, I was probably just sleeping in a weird position and look, no wheeze now!” Taking a deep breath to show there was no more noise coming from your chest, however, it didn’t seem to comfort him in any way.
“Yeah well you’re still looking peaky and why are you so tired all the time recently, you’re never usually like this”.
“It’s probably just the cold weather or something. If I start to feel unwell, you know I’d tell you. I’m a big baby when I’m ill, you’ll be the first to know”. Sam looked to be contemplating believing you and all you were silently begging for was that he didn’t call Steve and Bucky, they just didn’t need this stress right now. Even though it was in his contract to call them at any sign of injury or illness but as Sam looked at you, other than looking tired, you seemed to be fine and still joking with him. Finally, he gave you a simple nod and you couldn't hold back the thankful sigh. “Do you mind if I go back to sleep for a little while longer or do you need me for anything?”
“You’ve been sleeping a lot recently”, he stated his earlier point again.
“What, so I’m not allowed to nap now?” you teased him with a subtle smile, hoping to crack his worried exterior. It only half worked as he shook his head to himself, standing up and pulling the fluffy blanket that had been left behind you on the couch and throwing it over your body. Before you could even thank him though, sleep had stolen you back into its resting state. 
Sleeping for a few more hours, Sam was nowhere to be seen but he usually liked to check the perimeter ever so often and speak to the other guards so you weren’t worried about his whereabouts. As you shuffled to the kitchen, you couldn’t tell if you felt any worse or better after all the sleeping, haven’t wasted another day feeling sorry for yourself, you tried to snap out of it by glancing through the refrigerator and cupboards and deciding to ssurpriseSteve and Bucky with a romantic meal.
The house was soon filled with delicious scents of sweet and savoury as you’d baked and were in the process of cooking their dinner. You were in your own little world and had only stumbled a handful of times with dizziness and the headache that was building was currently mild in comparison to others you had, it was fine you determined to yourself
Still lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t even heard the front door open as you were suddenly enveloped by a muscular chest and arms, a smile aching your cheeks as you nuzzled back into Steve’s body. His lips danced over your cheek and down your neck as he held you close, the roughness of his beard comforting. “I didn’t hear you come in”, you commented, turning your head slightly to chase after his lips, sighing deeply in your chest as he held you tighter for a second, hands dipping beneath your shirt at your waist so that he could feel the warmth of your skin.
“I did shout”, he revealed whilst moving back to neck, not to kiss but just to smell you in, his body almost melting into the floor as he felt at home with the familiar scents. “I’ve missed you”, he whispered against your skin.
Goosebumps instantly flooded over your body as you shivered, turning in his arms to hug him properly, your fingers scratching through his hair that was beginning to curl at the ends where he’d allowed it to grow out over the winter months. “I’ve missed you too”, you whispered against his lips, lazily kissing and breathing each other in.
“Come with us tomorrow, I want you to be near me”, he admits with words that were making you cling to him harder.
You wanted to say yes and the word was on the tip of your tongue but then your thoughts drifted to the soup coming. “I’ve got a delivery coming that I can’t miss, I’m sorry”.
“The guards can get the delivery”, he counters.
“It’s fresh soup I want it whilst it’s hot”, an embarrassed smile finds its way to your lips as he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he just enjoyed the moment of the two of you being together.
“Soup? But we could order that to the office if you wanted it, you know that’s no issue”. 
You pout dramatically, hanging off his neck as you whisper with a childish tone, “But it won’t be the soup that I’ve ordered and want”.
Steve rolls his eyes but you know he's being playful, he could never find a reason to be upset with you. Rolling back his shoulders, he stands back to his full height, opening his eyes to cup your cheek with his massive hand but this was when he took you in and a frown dawned on his face just like it had on Sam’s. “Are you feeling ok?” The hand on your cheek moved towards your forehead, expecting to feel a temperature but it felt normal.
“I feel great”, you say with as much cheer in your tone as possible, still holding onto his neck but mostly because another wave of dizziness had rushed through you and you needed some support to stay standing.
Steve didn’t seem convinced, “You just … look a little off”.
You playfully rolled your eyes, similar to how he had just done, “Wow thanks Steve”.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that”.
“I know, I’m joking, I’m fine - really, it's nothing to worry about”. He eyes you and doesn’t fall for your grin so you tried your next trick up your sleeve. Leaning on your tip toes whilst pulling his face closer, you whispered against his lips, “I love you, Stevie”.
The tension momentarily eased from his shoulders as his grip around you tightened, “I love you too”.
“Sorry to interrupt your love fest but I want my own loving”, Bucky broadly announced from the entrance of the kitchen where he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes however as you pulled back from Steve and he could finally see your face, the happiness seeped from his face. “Woah, what happened? Are you ok?”
You gave a frustrated huff, finally releasing Steve’s neck as you pointed in the direction of the decorated table. “Right, both of you go and sit down before I decide you don’t deserve any food for being mean”.
Steve shuffled away first as you continued to cook the food, Bucky looking ashamed as he came over and kissed your cheek but before he could pull away, you quickly captured his lips in a kiss to show you’d been playing before and weren’t upset.
“Why are there only two plates on the table?”  Steve questioned as he took a seat.
Without looking over your shoulder at him, you casually answered, “I’ve already had mine, I wasn’t sure when you were both going to be home and I didn’t want to wait”. They both seemed to accept your lie and you happily sat with them as they ate, asking about how the deals were going. They both seemed to be agreed that they were sure to have contracts signed tomorrow and had even been able to pay off some of the international police so that shipping of the goods could occur. In truth, after the soup, you were not feeling at all remotely hungry and even the smell of the cooked food had turned your stomach over.
A couple of hours later, the three of you were preparing for bed. Steve is in the middle and you are to his right and Bucky is to his left. You and the mafia boss had been kissing deeply for a couple of minutes, his hands beneath your shirt, brushing against your breasts, rough fingertips peaking your nipples as you ground down on his thigh. You were soaked and he could feel the evidence of it as you weren’t wearing any underwear but the longer the touches and kisses went on for, the more you were feeling unwell.
As his teeth tugged on your bottom lip and he began to trail open-mouthed kisses over your jaw and down your throat, you noticed Bucky was doing the same thing but to Steve’s neck from behind. However, there were two Bucky’s instead of one as your vision swayed and it felt as if you were on a water bed with how unsteady you felt. The headache was close to a full-blown migraine as well now which only continued to make you feel nauseous so even though there was nothing more you wanted than to continue where this intimacy was leading but, for once, you had to stop it.
“Wait, just- just one moment”, you pushed against Steve's shoulders at the same time. The blonde's hold on you loosened as he moved his face back to look into your eyes but you’d closed them, trying to hide your face from him and Bucky who had also sat up further to check on you. “I just- sorry I’m tired and I… I’m not sure- sorry.. I don’t think-”.
Steve’s fingers tipped your chin up to look at him as he smiled softly down at you, “If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to. If you’re tired then I’ll just hold you close, ok? Please don’t apologise for not wanting any of this”.
You relaxed in his arms, feeling grateful for him but also bad that you could feel how aroused he was against your stomach. “Thank you. I’m just feeling so tired today. Please don’t let me stop you both, continue without me, I just want to go to sleep”.
“You don’t have to give us reasons why you don’t want to do it, baby, we’ll do whatever you want to do. Me and Buck don’t have to fuck if you want to be held, I don’t want you thinking we’re neglecting you”.
Affection and love warmed your heart as you kissed Steve’s lips and then reached over his shoulder to kiss Bucky. “I love you both but seriously please continue, I like watching you both anyway so that’ll satisfy me enough if I’m not asleep by that point anyway”.
They both gave their love back to you with praises and pecks to your face before rolling away from you and beginning their exploration of each other's bodies. You watched with a smile on your face for a couple of moments and your core ached with need but as a burst of pain pounded through your temple, your eyes shut automatically to help ease the pain and from there, they never opened again as sleep took you soon after.
The next morning, your migraine had gone but your entire body felt weak and drained of any energy. Steve and Bucky took one look at you and determined that they’d be working from home, wishing to remain near you but they still needed the comfort of their home office upstairs whereas you remained downstairs, pretending to watch TV.
Somehow, you had continued to hide your seasonal illness, they just thought you still looked peaky. Today was the worst you’d felt so far, even having to use the wall as support whilst walking around the home, silently coughing into cushions so that the boys wouldn’t hear upstairs and this only increased the sharp pain shooting through your chest.
At lunchtime, Sam came over to visit and found you at the table in the kitchen, head lying against the table top as you dipped in and out of sleep. You were too tired to even pretend to joke and thankfully for once he didn’t pester you with being unwell, especially knowing Steve and Bucky were home, he assumed they had seen how bad you were so he just sat next to you at the table, easing his hand under your head so you had some comfort against the hard surface.
Soon after, Rafael knocked on the front door with your soup delivery. Usually h,e would stay at the door, never coming into your home but Sam insisted that he come out of the cold and deliver the soup to you in person.
“Yay!” you croaked, reaching out for the warm container, seeing the soup within and seeing that it was a deep red colour today, possibly tomato.
“I didn’t know you cooked, Rafael”, Sam noted, taking his seat next to yours once more as the new guard stayed standing at the head of the table. Other than Natasha, Sam was the lead of the security and guards and technically Rafael’s boss.
“Oh yeah, he used to be a chef”, you explained to Sam, whilst opening the lid of the container, smelling the delicious food and confirming your theory that it was tomato soup.
“Chef? I didn’t know you worked as a chef”, Sam remarked with a frown, eyeing Rafael with confusion as he’d been the one to complete the job interview and didn’t remember seeing chef on his CV.
Rafael casually shrugged his shoulders, looking somewhat tense at the questioning but still forced a smile to his face to please his boss. “I didn’t think it was relevant to the job, to be honest”.
“We’ll have to get you on the bbq when the weather perks up, maybe that’ll stop the arguments between Steve and Bucky”, Sam mused over the thought.
You tried to chuckle but the exhaustion had you slumping against the table as you mumbled, “I feel like shit”.
Sam tensed next to you, “Maybe we should call a doctor. You know, I’m surprised Steve and Bucky aren’t down here right now looking after you, do they even know how bad you’re feeling today?”
“Wait, they’re both here?” Rafael asked Sam but he ignored him, his focus solely on you.
Once again you’re too tired to think of an answer and shrug your shoulders, turning your head to look up at Rafael, “I think the fairies like me too much”.
“Fairies?”, Sam questions thinking that you’d become delirious.
You smile genuinely to Sam, reaching to tap his shoulder, “Inside joke Sam, keep up”.
There was no further discussion of fairies as more hacking coughs ripped through you. It took a couple of moments and Sam rushed to get you a glass of water before you slumped back against the table in exhaustion.
“Why don’t you have the soup and then see how you’re feeling later? Maybe the rest is all you need”, Rafael suggested, filling the silence with his voice.
You couldn’t see it but Sam gave his employee a scathing look, “Rest is all she’s been doing. I’m calling the doc and then I’m going upstairs to tell Steve and Bucky”.
“Aren’t they busy?” Rafael continued to question Sam. “I’ve heard they’ve got that deal coming up from Italy and France, they might appreciate it if you wait a little bit before calling Doctors”.
Sam’s voice was quiet and stern but you were too tired to notice. “That’s not common knowledge, how do you know that?”.
Massaging your temples with the pounding thuds that hadn’t stopped since your coughing fit, you decided that Rafael was right, usually sleep made you feel better. Reaching for the soup one more, you opened the container as you addressed your bodyguard, “he’s right Sam. I just need today for all the work stuff to be over and then I’ll call the doctor. The boys don’t need any distractions, especially today, one more day isn’t going to kill me”.
Sam didn’t look happy as you began to idly sip on the thick, delicious soup. As you thanked Rafael for the meal, Sam finally looked back to him, his frown deep and unmoving as he asked, “Don’t you have work to do?”
Rafael’s spine straightened, “Oh yeah, right. Sorry, sir” and with that, he left to return to work.
“You don’t have to be so bossy you know, he’s just trying to help”, you tried to reason with Sam.
However, your friend ignored you and moved to hold your hand to pull your attention away from the meal and towards him. “I’m giving you until the evening, wait no- if you get any worse before the evening, I am calling the Doc, no arguments, understand?”
“Yes sir”, you say with a little salute.
Finishing your soup, your boyfriends finally came downstairs and you attempted to straighten your posture and plaster a fake smile on your face. Bucky paused in the entryway, sniffing the air and asking, “What’s that smell, I know it's from somewhere but can’t put my finger on it”.
“Is it my soup?” you say, trying to stand up and act like the floor was spinning beneath you.
“No, it’s not that”, he pondered, still looking around and trying to smell whatever he recognised but couldn’t pick it up again. Steve and Bucky both walked past you, kissing the back of your head as you casually explained that you were going to lie down for a little bit. “Wait, let me come with you-”, Bucky started but you held out your hand to stop him.
“You’ve got a busy time at work and I’ve got Sammy boy here anyway so you two continue with your work and we’ll have a nice evening in, Ok?”
“Yes Ma’am”, he mutters before continuing to make his lunch. It wasn’t often that he listened to your instructions but both men were so busy and overwhelmed with work and the consequences that could come from it all that they were all over the place.
The next hour passed by slowly and you didn’t manage to sleep even for a moment because your symptoms were making you feel so awful. You were wheezing so bad that each breath felt like you were suffocating, your eyes began to roll with how much the room was spinning and a violent tremble rocked through your entire body, you didn’t feel right, something was wrong and it was beginning to scare you.
“Sam?” your voice was nothing more than a rasping whisper but he still was able to hear you from where he had been on the phone with the doctor from across the room, having noticed your deterioration in health. He was kneeling by your side in a couple of broad steps, the phone balancing between his cheek and shoulder as he rested a hand on your temple, feeling your spiked temperature. “I don’t feel good”, you admitted, voice full of terror before more coughs ruptured through your chest, leaving you struggling to breathe.
“Steve! Bucky get down here right now!”
“No… no, I just need to sleep”, the fear had disappeared from your voice as you wished for the exhaustion to take you completely, hoping that in sleep you wouldn't feel the pain destroying your insides.
“Hey! No!  Don’t go t sleep, need you to stay awake for me, Doctor Banner is on his way but you can’t go to sleep”, Sam urgently tapped your face, rousing you from the sleep as Bucky had all but jumped down the entire flight of stairs at the shouting.
“What’s going on- What the fuck? Doll?” he replaced where Sam was so that he could continue to explain to the doctor what was happening.
“I’m just not feeling ok, it’s fine Bucky go back to work”, you were somewhat delirious, still not really opening your eyes but leaning into the coldness from Bucky’s hand as he cupped your face. Bucky looked to Sam for answers, his eyes bright and alert with fury and worry.
When Sam shrugged his shoulders, not having any answer as to why you were suddenly so unwell, Bucky quickly turned back to you and assessed your deteriorating health and noticed just how laboured your breathing had become. As he spoke, it was with surprising gentleness but still held authority, “I need you to take a deep breath for me, honey, I want you to try and fill your lungs with air”.
“I’m trying, it’s just seasonal illness, it’ll be ok”.
“What are you talking about?” Bucky asks, not letting go of your face but just moving in closer.
“It’s just seasonal”, your words began to slur as you became incoherent.
Steve finally descended the stairs with just as much purpose as Bucky as he demanded to know what was going on but Bucky couldn’t answer him as he continued to talk to you and keep you awake. “It’s not seasonal, you’re not breathing properly, it’s not-”. Bucky was leaning so close that he was able to smell your breath and he froze, it looked like he now wasn’t even breathing.
“What is it Bucky?” Steve demanded, kneeling next to him and reaching over to take your hand but also feel your pulse, which only made his own increase with worry.
Bucky leans closer and smells your mouth again, so close that you tried to move away as his nose nudged your lips. “What did you eat?” Bucky asked in a tone that forced your eyes to open with concern.
“Huh? Um just my soup”, you say whilst blinking quickly as he still wouldn’t come into focus.
“Soup? Where is it? Where’s the container?” before you could answer, he was on his feet and running into the kitchen as Steve continued to demand answers from his boyfriend, his hand now moving from your wrist to directly over your heart, continuing to count the beats.
Bucky cursed so violently that it actually made you shrink into the cushions but the movement only made you cough more and chest tighten as you struggled to breathe. He returned to the room, his face a deathly white and green shade as he uttered just one word: “Hemlock”.
There was just one brief second where not a body in the room breathed or even moved, one single second to process the poison that Bucky had spoken, the planet that he only knew about because of his time as the Winter Soldier and using it on his target. The poison that he could now smell on your breath, that originated from your container of soup.
It was Sam to speak first, Sam to snap the two men out of their frozen states as he gave the orders from Doctor Banner who had heard the word over the phone. “We need to get her to a hospital right now”.
Steve picked you up, and his entire body began to tremble with adrenaline and fear as no one even stopped to properly dress for the snow outside, only putting their shoes on before rushing to the car. Sam thankfully was able to use the adrenaline to remain headstrong as he climbed into the driver’s side of the car so that Steve and Bucky could both hold you in the back seats and try and keep you awake.
You were lying with your head in Steve’s lap with your body lying across Bucky’s as they clamped their arms around you as makeshift seatbelts. You had heard the word that Bucky had said and even though you knew what it was, you didn’t want to believe it, even as you continued to feel worse. “It’s not poison, it’s just soup”.
However, those words triggered something within your throat and once more you were coughing so hard that you thought you were going to vomit and cringed as metallic warmth filled your mouth and leaked out of the corner of your lips.
You slumped onto Steve and Bucky, head lulling back but Steve was quick to grab your face, tapping it and forcing you to stay awake, “Baby don’t go to sleep! Please stay awake for me! Stay with us, we’ll be at the hospital soon, I promise”.
You were scared, even though you were half-conscious, you were terrified now realising the severity of the situation, knowing that you were coughing up blood which was now soaking the front of Steve’s shirt and hearing how panicked your boyfriends were only made it worse. Through all the scary, dangerous times in your life, they always remained calm and in control but now they were both frantic and frightened. 
As all three men continued to plead with you to stay awake, you forced yourself to open your eyes, only allowing yourself the luxury of blinking occasionally as you kept looking into Steve’s ocean-blue eyes. With his body and face so close to yours, you used him to ground you in the situation, trying to copy his breathing which had slowed since you’d opened your eyes; ignoring the pain from the breaths and resisting the urges to cough even though blood continued to fill your mouth.
“Am I going to die?” you whisper, not being able to ignore the questions now in the back of your mind anymore.
Steve’s breath hitched for a second before he tried to confidently whisper, “No, you’re not going to die”.
You didn’t believe him, especially as the trip to the hospital was delayed by the snow, every second feeling like it could be your worse, you didn’t want it to end like this.
“I love you.”
“You’re going to be ok, just keep looking at Steve, keep breathing”, Bucky pleaded, squeezing your freezing cold hand.
“Please, just say it back”, your voice was hardly audible anymore as your mouth was so full of blood.
“Stop talking and save your energy for when you’re feeling better”, Bucky tried to keep his composure but you knew he was close to snapping.
Your breaths were wet and laboured, wheezing so violently it rattled and echoed around the car but you still managed to plead, “Say it back-”.
“I love you, I love you so fucking much, please don’t leave me, baby”. Steve snapped first, his eyes were wide, fearful and yet beautiful with how stark the blue was as his eyes filled with tears, leaking down his cheek and into his beard.
You were thankful, for both of them, for everything and you wish you could have told them, wishing that you could have heard Bucky’s own declaration of love and adoration for you but the pounding of your heartbeat became so loud in your head that you couldn’t hear anything anymore.
But you continued to hold on, never once looking away from those pretty eyes of Steve’s as Sam finally screeched to a halt outside of the hospital. Once more, Steve carried you and there was a flurry of people in different coloured scrubs suddenly surrounding you as you were placed onto a cold bed.
One moment you were staring into Steve’s eyes and the next you were looking up at a stranger and the comfort you’d once felt, the thing that was grounding you to life was now gone and you couldn’t find him again, no matter how much you moved on the bed, even as the strangers poked and prodded at your body until you couldn’t deal with it anymore and finally closed your eyes.
Do you ever have those naps where you wake up and forget where you are, or what time or day it is? That was currently how you felt except the added sensation of floating encompassed your body as well. The only sort of normality felt throughout your body was a cool feminine hand stroking across your temple in a soothing, repetitive manner.
Your toes wiggled firstly and then your eyes behind your eyelids and even though you knew who was stroking your forehead, you still croakily asked, “Steve? Bucky?”
“It’s just me Sugar” Natasha sounded calm and peaceful as her fingers didn’t stop with their soothing motions. “The boys are going to be so pissed that you’re awake before they’ve got back”.
You huff and dared to open your eyes, grunting at the brightness of the room but thankfully your eyes adjusted and only one, still, Natasha smiled down at you. Seeing that you weren’t going to vomit or freak out, Natasha sat back in her chair, moving to hold onto your hand to give you some comfort. “You gave us a real scare”.
You thought back to everything that happened, some of it was a blur but most of it still played through your mind like a horror movie that you couldn’t look away from or escape. “Was I really poisoned?”
There was one thing that you appreciated about Natasha and that was her blunt honesty, not one to ever sugarcoat her words, “You were”.
“But… But how? I mean… the soup, Rafael, he wouldn’t-”. You stopped yourself talking, trying to envision all the interactions you’d had with him but only one thing repeated through your thoughts: Don’t trust anyone. That was one of the first rules Steve had taught you. “I don’t understand why? He seemed so nice to me, is his name even Rafael? Was everything a lie?”
“That’s what they’re just finding out. Apparently, the friend of a friend rouse was made up including his credentials, usually, our background checks are very thorough but he had some help to slip through the cracks”.
“Do you know what help he had? Who it was, I mean?”
Natasha for once seemed to think before she spoke which unnerved you, knowing that whoever’s name she spoke next wouldn’t be good news.
The monitor displaying your heartbeat began to beep as it increased with the dread that was settling through your body.
“All signs are currently pointing to Pierce”.
Your eyes closed as you tried to remember how to breathe. You knew about Alexander Pierce. Everyone did. He was ruthless and had plenty of finances and power to pay for his success but not only this, he had been one of the top employees of Hydra and usually in charge of the Winter Soldier. So yes, you all knew a lot about Alexander Pierce and his name was one to send fear through any of those involved in the Rogers mafia, even Steve.
As you opened your eyes again to look at Natasha, you could tell she wanted to tell you more but was holding the information to not panic you further but you needed to know. “Please just tell me whatever it is you’re not telling me”.
“We think he paid this guy to come and spy on Steve and Bbucky and it seems he put his sights on you. Specifically.. Because you’re their biggest weakness and it seemed like everyone knows that”.
Your face warmed with fear and anger, as fear prickled the corner of your eyes, “So what, now I’m not even safe in my own home?”
“That’s not-” Tasha began to lean forward in her seat but another voice cut her off.
“No, you weren’t safe in your own home”. Steve stood at your hospital room door, dressed casually in a black shirt and jeans, looking nothing out of the ordinary but his face was wrath of calm and anger. Your eyes snapped from him to Bucky who had looked just as serious but as your eyes connected with his, the hard lines of his face smoothed out into a weak smile.
The two of them step into the room as Natasha stands, informing everyone that she’d give us some space and guard the door.
You’re trying desperately to keep the tears at bay, to keep them from slipping and cascading down your cheeks, not wanting your boyfriends to feel any more guilt but as you took a deep breath in, a sob erupts through you and you can’t keep the emotions back anymore.
You attempted to hide your face with your hands, even with the added difficulty of having tubes and wires attached to the backs of your hands and the tips of your fingers. The realities of everything that had happened began to destroy any hope that you had. You’d nearly died, in your own home where you were supposed to be most safe.
Steve and Bucky sat on either side of your hospital bed, moving silently as they always did and with careful ease, gently took a hand each and pried them away from your face, stroking away any tears that continued to escape.
“I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know… It’s a lot”, you tried to give reason for your crying, even though it was unnecessary. Bucky tilted your face towards him, his voice was so soft and caring that it nearly made you sob with how careful he was being with you, “Don’t apologise for crying, I tell you this all the time, Doll”.
You offered him a wet giggle, taking a few deep breaths before rambling on with your anxiety, “I bet I look like a right mess right now, I don’t even know how long I’ve been asleep for”.
They let you calm yourself down before Steve praises with his low captivating voice, “You always look beautiful, no matter how much snot is on your face”. He smiles as he manages to make you laugh before he turned serious, “It’s been 5 days, baby”.
Your face drops, “5… I’ve been asleep for 5 days?!”
“You passed out when we arrived and when they could finally stop the bleeding you-”
“Bleeding?” you questioned, remembering you were bleeding from the mouth but it didn’t seem like that much.
“The poison you’d ingested that day was a higher dose and caused internal bleeding. After they were able to stabilise you, they needed to detox you from the poison and make sure your body was healing so it was safe to keep you asleep”.
You tried to process everything that Steve had told you, it felt confusing for you to have been through so much and yet feel such little pain in your body.
As if reading your mind, Bucky once again captivated your attention as he asked, “How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”
“No I’m not in any pain but I feel wrong like my body is floating in the water or something”.
“That might be due to the medications that they’ve got you on, they’re pretty strong Sweetheart”, his pet name helped to calm your disorientated mind, clinging on to the familiarity and focusing on the way both of their hands were holding yours and stroking tiny circles in your skin,
“Did you get the answers you wanted, from Rafael, or whatever his name is”.
Steve and Bucky shared a glance between each other but Steve decided to be the one to answer. “We got the answers, it was as Nat was explaining. Pierce wanted someone in the gang, spying and getting as close to us as possible and I guess they somehow managed to weasel their way in and tried to succeed with their plan to hit our weak spot”.
You took a deep breath to try and reduce the rising anxiety in the pit of your stomach before asking tentatively, “So what happens now? With Pierce I mean.”
“That’s a problem for another time, just need you to get better first”, Bucky interjected, lifting your hand to kiss the few fingers that were attached with clips or wires.
You tried to smile at him, wanting him to know how much you appreciate him but the feeling never met your eyes and this seemed to twist something in Steve and Bucky. Both of their demeanours changed, no longer were you looking at just your boyfriends but also the mafia boss and his second in command, mixing business with family.
Bucky began talking first, tone strong and husky, “This isn’t something we are taking likely. Sam’s already spent the last day and a half revisiting everyone’s past, making sure there are no other moles that have slipped through the cracks. No new faces are allowed anywhere near our home or you.”
As he spoke, you managed sure to nod your head and try to squeeze his hand in understanding. Steve shifted in his chair, capturing your attention as he continued the discussion. “You are safe and you should have been safe but we let you down, you were vulnerable when we weren’t there to protect you like we promised we would. We let you down, we broke our promise, we could understand if you didn’t want-”.
“Whatever you’re about to say you better forget about it right now”, you say sternly, heartbeat beginning to race on the monitor again as Steve’s mouth shut quickly with a snap. “The idea of being your weakness has always frightened me but, I could also be your greatest strength. I mean - Look at what you’ve been going just to protect the house, to protect me. I know you feel like you’ve let me down but I don’t feel let down in any way. Yes, of course, what’s happened is scary, especially in our home but I doubt it’ll ever happen again. They can try and tear us apart, they can try, but they won’t break us, they can’t break us. We have to remain on top ok? I always feel safe and trusted when I’,m with you both so please, don’t ever feel like I'm not because I am. I’ll always love you both, I’m not going anywhere”.
You sucked in air greedily after your short speech, the building emotions spilling freely everything you truly believed to the men beside you, not wishing for them to ever feel doubt for the relationship or how you felt.
Looking between them both, your heart sank as you noticed Bucky quickly wipe the corner of his eye. “I thought you said no more tears”, you spoke softly whilst trying to wipe away a stray tear.
“That’s before you decided to swoon me with your speech”, he quipped back, the light returning to his eyes once more as you laughed.
“I love you Bucky”.
“I love you, Doll”, standing from his chair, his metal hand stroked over the side of your face as he captured your lips with his, lingering for a few beautiful seconds before sitting back down.
Steve had lifted your hand during your speech and was kissing your palm and you reached out to stroke his beard, “I love you, Steve”.
He too stood, just as Bucky had but he kissed your forehead first, breathing you in for a moment before doing the same against your lips. “I love you too, so much baby”.
As Steve sat back down, your eyes began to feel heavy, all of the strong emotions exhausted you completely. “Will you both be here when I wake up? Not that I’m complaining about Natasha but she doesn’t spoon me like you both do”.
They both chuckle under their breath before Steve promises, “We aren’t going anywhere, sleep, Sweetheart”.
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luveline · 11 months
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I would love to see shy/easily embarrassed!reader x steve where he makes a dirty joke in front of their friends and r is just super flustered, blushing very obviously and smacking his arm (silent way of telling him to stop embarrassing her!)
thank you for your request lovely!! fem!reader
Robin drops a can of soda in your lap and winces when it misses your leg and hits the asphalt. "Shit. Don't open that for a while." 
"Thank you," you say. 
"Don't say thanks, she made your life harder," Steve chides, his arm over your shoulder. He gives you a loving shake. "You gonna say thanks when it explodes, too?" 
He loves giving you and Robin a hard time for fun, but it's never serious. You send him a fake glare and take the cold soda can into your hand, tentative, worried it might explode. 
"She says thanks all the time because she's nice," Jonathan says, peeling open a bag of hard pretzels. 
Steve perks up like a bloodhound, his love for pretzels almost outranking his 'stir every pot' prerogative. "She's super nice," he agrees, "aren't you, sweetheart?" 
"I feel like I'm being targeted unfairly," you murmur, pretending your cheeks aren't aflame to the best of your ability. 
If he notices your flustered heat, you can blame the summer sun that's only just dropped down behind the treeline, throwing the road outside of the convenience store into shadow. It's a blessed reprieve from sweating, and all you need now is an ice cold drink. 
You offer it to Steve. "Will you do it, please? I'm scared if I touch it anymore it'll explode." 
"I know how it feels," Steve says. 
Jonathan laughs in disgust, and Nancy laughs at his quick wit (and maybe also disgust). You slap Steve's arm where it rests over your shoulder, his hand shy of your chest suddenly in an unacceptable position, what with his implication. He laughs and pulls his hand to your shoulder to stop you from hitting him, kissing your temple. 
"Sorry! I totally meant my heart," he says, giving you a little pat. 
"Yeah, sure," Robin says. "I thought you were a feminist?" 
"I love women," Steve says, giving you another kiss before leaping onto his feet and taking a couple of steps away, "that's why I'm going to open my babe's soda, even though it's one hundred percent a bomb."
You can't meet Robin's eyes when she smiles at you as if to say, He deserves this. 
Steve digs his fingertip under the tab and pulls. Like everyone expected, fizz and foam explodes, hitting his chest and his neck before spattering down his fingers and dripping onto the ground. He blinks dazedly. 
Your friends clap. You join in after a moment, in love with him even when he makes jokes that have you wishing the ground would swallow you whole, trying not to stare at the shining bead of soda as it slides down over his Adam's apple. 
He sits down heavily beside you on the curb and hands you your soda, dried off with the end of his shirt. "Was that too far?" he asks, quieter, genuinely concerned.
You laugh softly, placing the soda by your shoes. "No, it was funny. Funnier if it wasn't, you know, in front of all our friends." 
Steve drops his arm on top of yours to clasp your hand. 
"My comedian," you mutter. 
"Ah, so you are mad." 
You drop your head against his shoulder, your furnace of a cheek flat to the stitching on his sleeve. You're not mad, and you prove it with a gentle thumb rubbing the back of his hand. 
"You know, exploding isn't the only thing me and that soda have in common–" 
"Steve, no," you say, closing your eyes.
Your friends chuckle. Steve rests his head atop yours. "I'll tell you after," he promises. 
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