#but anxiety brain has been so bad lately and that's not helping at all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oddinarylani · 8 months

Text

'we hardly ever hug' w/ best friend skz

w: angst in lee know's part, anxiety in felix's

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷.↴

your ears perk at the sound of the door knob rattling but your eyes remain fixed at your laptop screen curiously. eyes flutter over word after word on the document, making a quick adjustment to a phrase, then returning to reading over. it was a vicious cycle really for editors - and this was your seventh piece to edit this week, and it was only wednesday.

the sun had set hours ago, and only the quiet rumbling of a passing storm could be heard besides the quiet shuffling of chan entering your shared apartment. your ears hadn’t perked to sound in hours, and when your eyes filter over the time in the corner of your laptop screen, they widen a bit, now realizing how late it's truly gotten.

“hey.” you greet happily as his form invades your vision. he’s slumped, shoulders sagging a bit and dark rings have formed around his eyes further creating tender purple lines stemming from them. maybe you had noticed it over the past few days and just not said anything (or maybe your brain truly was beginning to melt into some slushy matter from non stop editing for work) or maybe it was particularly showing today, but chan was starting to look bad again. your heart aches slightly at the sight.

“hey.” he says quietly, yawning as he makes way to the fridge, eyes filtering over it’s contents and finally reaching for the water bottle he was looking for that took him far too long to notice. “how was your day?” he asks, his eyes melting into a softer gaze as he turns to look at your curled form at your shared kitchen table, cracking the seal on the cap of his bottle.

“you’re looking at it.” you laugh tiredly, your own gaze finds the mess of a few coffee cups and a couple of breakfast bar wrappers alongside a coffee stained napkin with a pretty brown ring in the middle of it. “nothing too special. i made it to book seven though.” your fingers scroll through your latest progress, knowing full well now that you were coming to a stop for the night.

“oh wow… seriously? you’ve been at it for that long?” you nod, chan’s lips twinge to the side at the sight of your tired eyes.

“what about you? what’d you do today?” you ask, making a move to stand to prepare a snack before bed.

chan sighs deeply, his shoulder bumping into the wall as he makes a sloppy move to lean into it’s surface. he’s slow to start talking about his day, but you listen intently and quietly, giving him all the more room to rant. as you listen, you can’t help but hope that some of the weight on his shoulders is lifted. he talks about pressure from the company, a never ending viciousness of a love-hate relationship. he knows he’s been working extremely hard lately, it feels like more than he’s ever done before, but he can’t bring himself to stop. not when the pressure of performance and appearances weighs too greatly on him. not when fans were waiting for the next schedule, the next comeback, the next taste of artistry. it was the least he could do for them, was share what he loved so greatly. so he’d go above and beyond in providing - even if it meant sacrificing pieces of himself.

for a moment you think he’s going to cry, which breaks your heart further. your snack is abandoned, instead he has your full undivided attention and and ever softening gaze looking right through him.

“i don’t know. just feels like i need a big hug right now. that’d help.” he attempts at laughing off his grief, setting his water bottle down on the counter and making a move to grab his discarded work bag. “well,” he slows his movements only by a hair at the sound of your voice. “come here then.” you smile softly. “i could use it too.”

when he turns around, his eyes are wrinkled handsomely into a soft smile and he waddles over with arms spread. you wrap an arm around his shoulders and another around his waist, embracing him as full as possible. chan goes for a similar movement, his hands softly rubbing at your back as he settles into your embrace. the press of his body against yours is nice, and it was altogether a foreign feeling you wished wasn’t so foreign. chris was your best friend, it was strange you didn’t hug more.

“y’know we’ve only hugged like 3 times in our entire friendship.” you mutter against the fabric of his hoodie. he laughs, lightly swaying you side to side as he does so. “i was just thinking the same thing actually.”

“why don’t we hug more this is nice.” you close your eyes for a moment to take in the feeling. the warmth of a friend, the protection you felt from him that you hoped he also felt, and the sleepiness that was washing over you softly. “i don’t know… we should more often.” you can’t see his smile, but you can sure hear it in his gently muffled voice.

𝓵𝓮𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀.↴

for the third time in the span of a few hours, you curl further into yourself and hide away neat into the comfort of your bed, and push your hands to your eyes - tears, yet again, beginning to flow freely down the rounds of your cheeks. it’s pitiful, really. you think to yourself. that this is the third time this evening you’re crying and that you can’t manage to scoop yourself up and maintain some level of productivity before calling it a night. but maybe, the small voice in the back of your head reminds, you’re just being a little hard on yourself, and you’re allowed to cry.

the confines of your bed begin to feel hot, but you can’t bring yourself to get out - instead your head swarms with your grief and intermingles with the heat - creating a dangerous tincture. your mind glosses over the thought of your roommate being able to hear you, in fact you completely disregard the notion.

a quick few taps at your door bring you to face a little clarity. you sit up slowly with the push of your hand to your mattress, and call out, “yeah?”

“can i come in?” minho asks, his hand resting on the knob to await your clearance. you confirm, a bit weak, a bit sad, and he bites at his inner cheek as he makes way inside.

he must’ve just showered; he brings in a clean scent with him and his skin looks nice and glowy. you wipe at your face quickly, huffing out a breath in attempts to stabilize your voice. minho beats you to speaking as he sits on the edge of your bed. “what’s wrong?” he asks softly, looking over your splotchy features with curious eyes.

“a-ah…” you shake your head, unable to meet his eyes so you instead focus your eyes on your hands and the surface of your comforter. “i know you don’t like comforting people so, you don’t have to worry. i don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

he drags out his voice, claiming nonsense - which earns him a slight smile from you. “we’re friends, you can tell me.” he assures.

you sigh once, adjusting your sitting, then proceed to tell him about your most recent falling out with your friend from school. he knew their name well, his face settling into a sort of unimpressed expression from the start; which yet again earns him a smile from you. it wasn’t a great end - a video sent in explanation of their lack of boundaries that you were tearful through, and years of memories now down the drain. your lip wobbles at the end of it, and your hands focus on fidgeting.

“i-it just… it makes me really upset.” when tears fall down your cheeks again, his brows melt as does his expression, and he leans up and opens his arms. “come here.” he urges. you shake your head, “no no no, i know you don’t like physical conta-” “it’s okay, just come here.” he smiles gently.

you swallow, scooting forward on your bed to wrap your arms around his waist, the side of your face resting in the junction of his shoulder and chest. his arms wrap around you and you feel totally enveloped in a kind of odd safety. you’d only hugged minho a handful of times, maybe. and while the feeling was new, it was also refreshing.

“you’re so warm, you need to take a cool shower. it’s too hot in here.” his hands smooth over your back a few times, and the vibration of his gentle voice lulls you into a newfound peace. his hold is gentle - not tight like some people hugged, just light - but it brought a sense of comfort over you you didn’t expect.

“i think i can count the number of times we’ve hugged on one hand.” you chuckle, adjusting your cheek against his shoulder, bringing your arms up higher on his waist.

“enjoy it now, you won’t get it again.”

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷.↴

get home soon, loser. i don’t wanna remind u again that i miss you dude.

of course you do. i’m your funniest friend, i bet you’ve been sooooo bored since i’ve been gone.

i’m gonna kill you when i see you again, fr.

then who would you have around to be your funniest hottest bff?

i’ll start taking applications now for ur replacement.

you chuckle a short evil laugh, tossing your phone on your bed as you make way to your bathroom to start your shower. changbin had been gone now for some months on tour, and with busy schedules and time differences, you hadn’t all the time in the world to chat like you used to. but now with them returning, you were planning on surprising him at the dorms when the guys came back from the airport. as a testament to your long glorious friendship, you’d made it a point to remind him of his bestie back home and had sent him flowers to his hotel one night after a concert in vienna - as you tie your hair back you think back fondly to his spam texts of that night.

you’re quick in the shower, and when you step out, a toothbrush in your cheek and sweatpants pulled on half-hazardly, you hear a ding from your phone and your brow quirks at the sound.

didn’t know you got a new door mat while i was gone.

your brows furrow at the text - and the speed at which you toss your toothbrush from your cheek and rinse your mouth to bolt towards the door was thoroughly impressive to say the least. “no way no way no way-” you mumble to yourself as you slip on a t-shirt before throwing open your apartment door, seeing changbin in all of his sleepy glory at your door, a face mask pulled to his chin.

“bin!” you say affectionately, throwing your arms around him tight. “hey!” he greets back, just as happily, lifting you from the ground as his big arms circle your back. you laugh at his antics, holding on as tight as possible, who knew when you’d get the opportunity again?

“when’s the last time we’ve hugged?” you question as he sets you down, your hands come to rest on his upper arms as you both part, his own resting on your upper back. “i don’t remember, just enjoy this will you?” he scolds playfully, squeezing you once more.

“oh! i got you something.” he pulls away again to reach for a small bouquet of flowers that rest against the wall and floor in the hallway, handing them to you. “payment for vienna.”

𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷.↴

“y’know how lucky you are that i let you drag me here?” your eyes focus on nowhere in particular, washing over the bodies at the party, finding some of the guys intermingled and talking to other artists of the party. while it wasn’t crazy by any means, mostly glamorous what with all the designer clothes and such, it was a social outing nonetheless. you were still very thankful for the invite and opportunity to join the boys at a company party as big as this. “it’s because you love me so much.” hyunjin looks over the rim of his drink, a sassy squinting look shot your way before he takes a sip and runs a hand through his hair.

your relationship with hyunjin was one that had spanned many years; you still hold onto fond memories of him when you were two little bratty kids, running around in playgrounds and stomping in rain puddles. to an innocent bystander, it seemed as though you might’ve hated each other, but there was a deeper understanding to it all that only you both understood. the constant roasting and bantering was your favorite part of your friendship. it was all in good fun.

besides, how much could you really complain when you were dressed nice (not out of your own pocket, thanks hyunjin) with a drink in hand and good company. and then the games started. it actuality, they were pretty fun, that was until two hands planted themselves on hyunjin’s back and pushed him into the center of the activities, promptly taking you with him as he grabbed your hand. you make an unceremoniously peeved expression at hyunjin, boy would he get ever the earful after whatever it was you two were about to do.

“i take back every time i’ve ever said i loved you.” you side whisper to him, to which he rolls his eyes and chuckles behind his hand. “you love me so much what are you saying.”

you’re quickly explained the rules of the round; choosing between a 60 second moment of eye contact or a 6o second embrace. you’re quick to speak up, “i can’t look him in the face. i’ll laugh.” you notice briefly some of the other members laughing quietly. when you turn back to hyunjin he has an abhorrent look on his face, ever the drama queen. “i don’t want to hug you either, though.” he snickers. “i think we have to, come here.” you turn your body to face his, opening your arms for him to walk into. he groans in protest, but wraps his arms around you nonetheless.

you rest your cheek on his shoulder and hold him warmly, sighing into the comfort of the embrace. “when’s the last time we’ve hugged? i can’t remember.” you mutter against the fabric of his button-down. he hums, before resting his chin on your head. “i don’t know, must have been a while ago.” his voice is quiet, almost like you’re the only one who can hear it, it somewhat warms your heart despite the bickering and playful arguing that defined most of your friendship.

his arms feel somewhere between solid and light around you. not too over encumbering, and not not holding you at all. he’s wearing a light fragrance with a true feminine edge and you’d never admit it to him (you would) but it felt really nice to hold hyunjin and to be held in return. the time is ticking down slowly, you’ve forgotten about the other people in the room for a moment, and when the timer goes off you squeeze him one last time before parting.

“let’s never do that again.” he smooths his hair, a slight guiding hand on your upper arm to walk back to your spot at the edge of the crowd of people. you flash him a knowing smile, one he returns with ease. “yeah. never again.”

𝓱𝓪𝓷.↴

“dude! you almost had it, c’mon.” you jump giddily in your spot next to han, your hands wrap around the fronts of your calves as you pull your legs in tight. he groans, the agitated tapping of the controller alerts your ears as your eyes stay firmly fixed on the game on the screen.

han had invited you over for the night to play the newest chapter of a video game, it was highly anticipated, and not just between the both of you but it seemed everyone and their mom’s were playing it at the moment - so naturally you got roped into it too. so far, the first three chapter had been amazing. lots of action, amazing graphics and animation, you were surprised to say the least as it drew in your attention seamlessly. and now here you were, on a friday night beside your best friend watching the newest tales in the story being told.

“i knoooow,” he drawls, once again taking a potion as his character’s life began to drain from damage. “i can’t get past this part, there’s no way to block him.” he’s regained focus, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he leans a bit more forward with new purpose - a full health bar and the dwindling end of his enemy is beginning to peak over the horizon.

your mouth rounds into an ‘oh’ like shape, nails digging into your legs as you keep watching. “you got one potion left, you’ll be fine, you got this.” you remain calm, which han is forever grateful for as his hands are starting to get sweaty on the controller with anxiety.

“oh shit-” he perfected his timing on his character’s block, and in a few hits, the enemy was downed. your arms shoot up, “yes! DUDE i knew you’d do it.” han tosses hs controller to the side, and you both throw yourselves into each other’s arms with comity. han is cheery and excited and pats your back with excitement as you rock back and forth in each other’s arms.

the excitement cools down as the loading screen for your character plays in the background, and you find yourself in a moment of quick thought in your friends arms. “i can’t even remember the last time we’ve hugged, haha.” you smooth a hand over his back as you both part. “yeah we never really hug, but i’ve never really noticed to be honest.” he snickers behind his hand, picking up the controller once more. “me neither!”

𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓲𝔁. ↴

your trembling hands reach blindly for your phone, your vision blurred and focused elsewhere in your bedroom. inside your skull pulsed a mush of ideas, a flurry of thoughts; moving so quickly in and out of your conscious brain that you couldn’t match them, there was no keeping up. there’s a strong tug at the back of your throat, not even swallowing soothed the ache. your vision registers more clearly when your phone vibrates as you mistype your password. you curse under your breath, stabilize the hold on your phone with two hands, and manage to find your texts with somewhat ease.

there was one person you were looking for, one familiar sunshiney person you could always count on since you were both little. your hands stumble over words in the text you send him.

hey, i’m not feeling too well rn. could i come over?

your teeth take your thumb nail between them, blood pools in your cuticle as you pick it.

oh no :( how about i come over instead? i wouldn’t want you driving feeling bad

okay, let me know when you leave and get here.

it’s soon that your thoughts are interrupted, and you hear the sound of your front door opening. in walks felix with a beanie and a mask on that he tugs to his chin. he calls your name, closing the door behind him quickly and locking it. you peak out from the hallway, forcing yourself to smile when you meet his eyes.

“hey.” you greet, somewhat breathlessly felix notes. he tugs off his beanie and mask, “hey, what’s wrong?”

you turn to walk back to your room, felix follows as he had many times. his presence alone soothes the ever growing unease in you, but still it grows. the anxiety.

“i’m…” you sit on your bed, pulling your sweatshirt down your hands. the godforsaken pull at the back of your throat reemerges, and you feel your eyes gloss over with tears which has felix’s expression melting. “i-i’m trying not to freak out-” your lips tremble into a sort of frown and he immediately reaches for you, murmuring a few gentle comforts to you. “come here, it’s okay.”

you let him pull you into his arms as your first tears spill over your waterline, wetting your cheeks furiously and heaving sobs from your shoulders. with your face in his shoulder, your own arms around his back, you close your eyes and try desperately hard to focus on the feeling of felix holding you. the feeling of his voice close to your ear, the feeling of his chest rumbling as he speaks, the warmth of his hands on your back and head, and the gentle rock of his arms. soon your tears are stilled and dried, and you rub at his back to part from him to which he agrees, pushing your hair over your shoulders.

“when i think about it, we’ve only hugged a handful of times in our friendship, can you believe that?” it’s an attempt to lighten the mood and distract you from the anxiety you’ve now trained to keep at arm’s length.

“i was thinking the same thing too, actually. but you give such good hugs and you’re very affectionate, i don’t know why i don’t hug you more.” you wipe your face with your sleeve, leaving red blotchy skin in your wake. he frowns at the sight of your sadness and panic, and pulls at your arms to bring you in to hold you once more.

𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓶𝓲𝓷.↴

sleepovers with seungmin always ended up stretching over the course of a few days; not on purpose, it just always ended up that way. now with his break in schedules, he had all the free time in the world for you to annoy him - and annoy him you’d succeed in. it’d been a few hours since he stepped through the threshold of your apartment, but you were already planning on your friday night plans spanning the entire weekend.

he kept himself busy in your kitchen, promising to make quick work of dinner as you shuffled through your most recent liked songs, your chin resting in your hand as you waited for him to finish.

“it smells yummy.” your eyes still remain fixed on your phone screen. he hums quietly in agreeance.

it was too peaceful - and you of course always had to keep seungmin on his toes. you place your phone face down on the counter top, looking at him suddenly. you had to be sneaky of course, something unsuspecting, but enough to get the reaction you wanted. you pull your lips to the side in thought.

his back was turned to you, a billowing stream of steam wafted off the pan he was cooking in. he had his sleeves pushed to his elbows and occasionally parted from the stove to wash his hands off or chop away on your cutting board. you smile to yourself as your plan blossoms. not that it was anything crazy, but just something to tick him off a bit.

you stand, remaining diligent in making your footsteps quiet. you eye his movements, positive he’ll be staying at the stove for a moment as you approach him slowly. you smile to yourself one last time before raising your arms and winding them around his middle, pressing your cheek to the center of his back.

immediately you’re met with a long drawn out groan, which only makes you squeeze him tighter, swaying him side to side as you chuckle against him. “whyy?” he asks you, his arms lifted a bit so as to not touch you. you press yourself closer by his slim waist, admiring the feeling of his warmth and the softness of his sweatshirt. “you’re just so huggable, i don’t know what you want from me. and-!” you continue, voice an octave harder as the realization hits you. “when’s the last time you’ve let me hug you? it’s been years!”

he shakes his head, grabbing a bell pepper from the cutting board to chew on. “it has not been years.” he assures. “mmm pretty sure it has been.”

you remain connected to his waist, only hugging firmer as you enjoy the feeling of your friend in your arms. he groans again, but this time it’s followed with a short chuckle. “let me go.” you shake your head. “what’s in it for me? you’re so huggable i don’t think you realize.” he hums, trying weakly to pry your arms from him, but you persist and only hold him tighter to you.

“i’ll let you hug me when we watch the movie.”

you break your arms from around his middle and look at him incredulously. “really? deal.”

he keeps up his end of the bargain, after dinner you start up your tv and after seungmin sits down on your couch, you plop down next to him and lean your head on his shoulder, his arm coming to circle you lightly. you only see it for a split second, but as the movie starts you look up to seungmin and see him smiling ever so slightly.

𝓳𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓲𝓷.↴

“that’s my yang jeongin!” you yell from the barricade of the guest section. jeongin had invited to fly you out to seattle for a concert stop right in the middle of the tour; having been friends for so long he knew he wouldn’t see you for a while on this stretch of tour dates and invited you to come see him so you wouldn’t miss him as bad (as he worded it) though it’d been a few years since you’d seen him perform last, you knew a great deal of his talent and knew he was nothing short of the best of the best and agreed for a little weekend getaway.

the performance exceeded your expectations on all levels - his stage presence was insane. you knew he was talented but hadn’t any idea of just how stunning he truly had grown to be. “go best friend!” you shouted again.

when the concert concluded, the boys were quickly whisked away to the hotel to rest up - jeongin was keeping in touch with you the entire time, letting you know management would meet with you in the lobby before being sent up to his room. you followed suit, stopping at a korean restaurant on the way over.

you did so good! i was amazed, i’m stopping somewhere first before i come by.

ah, thank you, what are you getting?

surprise hehe >:)

oh no

you met up with management and let them check over your bags and the food you’d gotten for the both of you and were quickly sent up, pulling your hat down further on your face as you did so. with a knock at the door, jeongin stands from his bed and make way to it - smiling when he saw you. “hey, you did so good! the concert was insane.” you walk in when he lets you pass him and you set your stuff down on the table across his bed.

“thank you~” he grins, cheeks a bit pink and eyes wrinkled handsomely.

“come here, i’m so proud of you.” you open your arms wide, taking a few steps closer as he unwillingly opens his arms for you and lets you hug him as hard as you wanted. “i know you hate this but you have to let me hug you, i missed you.”

you always knew jeongin to be not the touchiest. he always strayed away from your hand holding and hugs as a kid, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss you, and his heart feels full and warm to hear you say such meaningful things. so he indulges, not just or you, but for him too. his arms are fully around your shoulders, his lips pulled into a tight smile as he rests his cheek on your head.

“i missed you too. did you see me mess up?” he snickers. when you pull away you rest your hands on his waist for a moment. “you messed up? i really couldn’t tell.”

“good.”

is this good? i have no idea, i haven't written for all of the guys yet so some of these might not be the best? lmk.

805 notes · View notes

upon-a-starry-night · 5 months

Text

Number Neighbors Part 12

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

You wouldn’t call yourself a totally hopeless romantic, but when Leon showed up at your door dressed to the T, holding roses, and asking you out with a charming smirk you nearly swooned.

You placed the flowers in a vase on your kitchen counter where they would probably stay long after they wilted. You took note of how long it even took you to find an actual vase in your place, not to mention how dusty it was.

Modern ‘dating’ has drowned out so much romance these days.

It had been so long since you went on a date you forgot how nice it felt to get out of the house with other people, how nice it felt to be the center of someone's attention and admiration. You wouldn’t say you craved it necessarily but you definitely lacked a lot of social interaction. Not to mention you were 100% touch-starved.

Leon picked you up and took you out to see a movie, it was an unconventional first date but you didn’t mind. Especially not when he held your hand and bought you expensive movie theater snacks. It was cute and simple. It wasn’t like you were expecting a whole lot.

On the way there the two of you got to know each other better, you found out his mother had died 4 years ago and that he had been helping his dad with the restaurant ever since.

You felt so much respect for him that he’d stuck by his father to help him.

The two of you played 20 questions for most of the car ride, learning simple things about each other like favorite movies, preferred colors, and biggest dreams

It eased a lot of the anxiety you’d been feeling since he picked you up.

Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice how nervous you were and if your palms were sweaty in his, he never commented on it.

The movie was a comedy that you enjoyed, although you kept getting distracted by Leon playfully stealing your popcorn.

You were so used to doing things by yourself that you forgot how fun simple things were with other people.

You really should try to make more friends.

Your train of thought drifted to Nat a lot of times throughout the night. For some reason, you kept wondering if she would enjoy doing things like this with you. You let yourself indulge in your fantasy for a moment, pretending that Leon was Nat and that you two were meeting up for the first time but not the last time. It wasn’t a bad date but you found it felt better when you imagined Nat there.

You felt less nervous.

It almost got to the point where a joke was made in the movie about spies and you turned to laugh with Nat about the inside joke, only to find Leon with his eyes trained on the screen.

You were the only one in the theater who had laughed.

You shook the thoughts out of your head. Here Leon was treating you to a nice movie and you’re thinking about someone else.

The rest of the date you tried to focus on Leon and the movie but now there was a distinct feeling of something missing.

You hated how easily Nat could take over your brain lately, and how much hope and happiness you got from imagining her with you everywhere.

It was becoming a problem so much that you really did begin taking her with you everywhere.

When you went to the grocery store there she was telling you sassily that you should eat more than frozen pizza and chicken nuggets.

(An argument you’d had over text many times)

When you went to the library she was there telling you to pick out books other than romance novels

Everywhere you went she was there commenting on things

Always faceless but wearing that same red t-shirt from the photo she sent you.

You didn’t realize just how much she had begun to infiltrate your life until now.

In a way, it comforted you.

If you couldn’t have the real thing then maybe you could live with Imaginary Nat.

When Leon dropped you off at your apartment you kissed him on the cheek and entered your apartment with a smiling face, immediately opening your phone to text Nat about the whole ordeal. She was quick to text back, she had been more responsive since your break from each other.

And sassier than ever as well

Nat🔪:

A Movie? Really?

Y/n🍦:

Shut up it was cute

He held my hand and bought me popcorn

Nat🔪:

Wow.

I’m teeming with jealousy.

Y/n🍦:

It was a first date

Nothing's perfect on a first date.

Nat🔪:

Whoever told you that was a liar.

C’mon, you can’t be serious about that…

Y/n🍦:

I don’t think I’ve ever had a perfect first date

Nat🔪:

Then you’ve been with all the wrong people Y/n.

Y/n🍦:

Where would you take someone on a first date?

She took a while to type, the three dots appearing and disappearing numerous times. You took the spare time to get ready for bed and change into your pajamas. You hopped into bed, reveling in the warmth that the covers brought you.

Nat🔪:

Depends on the person

Y/n🍦:

Did you take all that time to type that?

What were you thinking before you pressed backspace?

Nat🔪:

Well a date idea for you - based on what you’ve

told me about yourself-

Probably a rooftop picnic.

Y/n🍦:

Oh?

You hadn’t been on a picnic in a long time. Going on one did sound nice actually…

Nat🔪:

Since you never get out of the house

Y/n🍦:

Hey! I get out enough!

Nat🔪:

Maybe I’d bring a game or some paints,

You can learn a lot about someone by what they

Paint on a first date.

Then I’d probably want to walk around

with you for a bit just to listen to you talk.

Then I’d take you out stargazing. You seem like the type.

Hypothetically, of course.

You threw your phone onto your bed and turned to scream into your pillow. It really was not fair how suave Nat could be sometimes. And how were you supposed to gush about your date when she just made up a much better hypothetical date? You were pretty sure you were blushing more at her idea than you had all night with Leon.

Y/n🍦:

Hypothetically you’re right.

That sounds like a dream

Are you speaking from experience?

You were trying to prepare yourself for if the answer was yes, you had to admit you’d be pretty jealous of whoever got that date. Although you think you’d probably be jealous of anyone going out with Nat, she seems like the type of person to treat her partner right.

You tried not to let your brain go down that path.

Nat🔪:

All of that was specific to you, Y/n.

I wouldn’t do that with anyone else

Screw it, all of your apprehension went out of the window. What were you supposed to say to that?

You immediately began imagining the date Nat described, your favorite foods sprawled across a stereotypical red and white blanket as you looked over the city. Walking around Central Park for hours, finally talking to Nat in person and hearing what her laugh sounded like. Driving away from central New York to the outskirts of town where you can see a million stars. It all sounded like the perfect day.

And when you tried to imagine it with Leon or anyone else it just didn’t feel quite right.

But you would never get that with her.

So even though it made your heart flutter and your stomach flip you pushed out the thoughts of you and Nat together.

Even if you really wanted to be.

Shit, You were so in over your head.

~~~

Normally showers were your happy place but You’d practically freaked out when Leon told you your next date would be at a fancy expensive restaurant down the street. You’d passed by it so many times and wondered what the inside looked like but you never thought you’d actually eat there. It made you exponentially nervous.

The types of people you saw going in there were nothing like you.

And if you were honest, you weren’t sure you wanted to be anything like them.

But Leon was treating you and it was such a classic date idea, especially in the movies.

You couldn’t just say no.

Briefly, you wondered if Nat was the kind of person to enjoy expensive restaurants. The thought of her sparked an idea in your head:

Maybe Nat could help you out.

You finished cleaning up and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body and quickly wiping your fingers on it to grab your phone.

You paused the soft music you’d been playing and opened the messages app.

Pausing to reread and huff out a laugh at your previous messages.

Something about Nat complaining about not getting any privacy with her roommates. Something you only recently found out she had.

Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

Emergency!

Nat’s responses were immediate and you almost felt bad for phrasing your text so urgently

Nat🔪:

What?

What is it

Are you okay?

Y/n🍦:

I don’t have anything to wear 😫

Nat🔪:

I’m blocking you.

Y/n🍦:

Natttt

I need your help

Please

Nat?

Where’d you go?

Nat🔪:

You can no longer send messages to this number

Y/n🍦:

That’s not the real blocked message.

You pathological liar. At least make it believable.

For real I need your help

Nat🔪:

Why is this such a big deal?

Y/n🍦:

I have to wear something fancy to this restaurant

Leon is taking me to.

It’s called Sharp Cuisine

Nat🔪:

Fancy?

That’s not very you

Didn't you two literally meet in a diner?

Y/n🍦:

Hey, I’ll never say no to free food.

Nat🔪:

How can he even afford a place like that?

Y/n🍦:

Maybe he has connections?

Nat🔪:

If that’s the case have fun eating

In the storage closet

Y/n🍦:

I’m so stressed out, I don’t

Go out enough to have fancy outfits.

I think there’s dust on my clubbing outfit…

Nat🔪:

That’s depressing.

Dates aren’t meant to be stressful Y/n.

Maybe you should tell him?

Y/n🍦:

He already made reservations

Not everyone is as romantic as you Nat.

I wish.

Nat🔪:

Fine, show me your options.

Y/n🍦:

Thank God

I Love you (Deleted)

I owe you!

When you’d gotten to the restaurant you were still self-conscious but you felt a lot better in the outfit Nat helped you pick, along with the accessories she told you would pair with it perfectly.

Halfway through the -honestly average dinner a fancy server approached you with a plate. Your favorite dessert sat prettily decorated and you stared in awe. Worried you might start drooling soon you turned to Leon to thank him only for him to turn to the waiter with concern etched onto his features

“Sorry but, I didn’t order this”

You furrowed your eyebrows, disappointment settling at the fact that the server probably delivered it to the wrong table

“I’m well aware sir, someone came in and told us to give it to someone named Y/n?”

You perked up at that, something hopeful and curious stirring inside your chest

“I’m Y/n” The waiter turned his attention to you, nodding his head slightly as if to say he already knew

“Yes I was given a description of your dress” He places the dessert next to your half-eaten meal and then hands you a note written on a napkin and walks away to serve another table.

You took a bite out of the sugary dish and nearly moaned at how good it was, after a few more bites you finally looked down and read the note written in pretty but precise handwriting.

“I have connections too. Enjoy your dessert, Y/n ;) ~ Nat”

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest,

She was here.

Pt.13

-Writing Leon and Y/n scenes is literally sooo hard for me I’m sorry- that’s why they might b boring~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx

182 notes · View notes

dbnightingale24 · 3 months

Text

You Didn't Have To Say Yes...

A Pete Brenner Love Story

My first Patreon story!! I decided that Pete needs a love story, cause I feel like he gets shit on a lot. He's not a bad guy, he just has some...bad habits.

Thank you to everyone for your patience (once again), and I hope you all enjoy! As always, thank you to @fuckingbye for my amazing moldboard! I love it and I love you! I wrote this in a week (I don't know what's going on with my brain as of late), and I'm really excited for it!

Word Count: 49,380

Warnings: Pete Brenner, Smut, MINORS DNI 18+, Swearing, Daddy Kink, Drinking, Smoking, Drug Use, Angst, Self Hate, Semi-Public Sex (fingering), Open Marriage (Toxic Relationship), Abuse, Fluff, Family Drama, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Abortion ...I think that's it? I'm pretty sure I covered all the bases...yeah

Songs That Inspired This Chapter: If You're Feeling Down, I Just Wanna Make You Happier Baby

Summary: Pete Brenner is perfectly fine with everyone continuing he's a selfish piece of shit. That is, until you walked into his life, and turned everything upside down.

I do not give consent/permission for my stories/works to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

“C’mon, give me a smile,” Pete beams, his words tailing a slight slur as you make someone else’s Manhattan.

“I think it’s time for you to go, Mr. Brenner,” you giggle dismissively, flipping your hair and shaking up the cocktail mixer.

“I wonder how much sweeter my name would sound if you were underneath me,” he grins and lifts his eyes at you. You ignore the heat in the pit of your stomach, not wanting to surrender to his smarmy charm.

Pete Brenner doesn’t give up easily, you’ll give him that.

“I’m sure your wife is happy that you’re always here, trying to bring me home instead of spending time with her,” you nod with a glance towards his left hand. A waitress comes over, picking up the next round of drinks.

“I’ve told ya, she has her fun and I have mine.”

“Cause that’s what every woman loves to hear. Woo me even more, Brenner,” you laugh, turning around and getting started on the next drink.

“Your ass looks amazing in those shorts.”

You laugh as you call over your shoulder, “I’m ordering you a cab.”

“I can take myself,” he mutters with an exasperated sigh. You know he’s pulling out his wallet, frustrated that you’re not leaving with him again.

“We go through the same motions every time, Pete. I don’t want you driving home drunk.”

“You refuse to sleep with me, but you care about my well being? I think you’re finally startin’ to warm up to me.”

“I don’t sleep with married men, Pete. Find a new dream to chase. You know the drill, the cab will be here in ten.”

Pete Brenner came stumbling into your life about a year and a half ago, and he’s been a character since day one. He was down on his luck, drinking until he could barely stand, refusing help from anyone, always ending with the same mantra every night:

“I’ve made this fucking far on my own, I can make it to my own fucking house!”

No matter how much you pushed, he wouldn’t accept help from you. He always refused service from everyone except you. At first he didn’t say anything, he just watched you and let his eyes roam over your body. He never said out loud that he wanted you, but he didn’t exactly go out of his way to hide it either. He was so obvious he never needed to say it explicitly. The glint of his gold wedding band always caught your attention under the sparkling lights of the nightclub, but seeing as he spent every night there until closing, you didn’t think it made much of a difference.

Until one night, eight months ago.

“There she is! My favorite girl!” he beamed, a cocky smile cemented on his lips.

The woman sauntering next to him didn’t seem to think too highly of the nickname he called you.

“I’ll take a bourbon, and this sweet little thing next to me will have a Strawberry Daiquiri,” he told you, though his eyes never left your chest.

“Oh? Wedding anniversary?” you half smiled as you tried to put on your workplace happy face even though you mentally thought to yourself ‘he can’t be that sleazy to bring her to this dump on their wedding anniversary.’

“Got a new job, sweetheart,” he smirked. You didn’t miss the mischievous shine in his eyes in the club’s half light.

He was a bold mother fucker to bring his wife along just to flirt with you in plain view of her. Not many men had that much audacity when it came to you.

“I’m Y/N,” you offered with a smile.

You genuinely pitied the woman.

“Tina,” she responded with a plastic smile.

Big boobs, micro-waist, big fake blonde hair, and Pete had ordered her a strawberry daiquiri. She fit the description of most “Tina’s” that came into the club. However, the large rock on her ring finger was nothing to scoff at.

“Oh, don’t pout, honey,” Pete taunted her. “This is what you wanted, right? Me to get a brand new important job and show you off? That’s what you’ve been bitchin about for months, isn’t it? So smile, would ya? You got ya wish.”

Someone was feeling prickly that night.

“First round of drinks are on the house. Congrats, Pete,” you smiled as you set both drinks down.

“Keep ‘em comin’, sweetheart,” he winked at you, handing you a hundred.

While it may have not been anything new to you (Pete always tipped generously), Tina’s eyes went wide and you didn’t miss the way her cheeks burned and blushed with anger.

You wanted to stay as far away from them as the night allowed.

You happily took shots with some of your regulars as the night went on and evened out. Your friends started showing up for their shifts, which helped your sour mood from earlier in the day (even though your ex-fiancee showed up outside of your apartment to harass you yet again). The more you drank, the more you started to dance along with the music; which meant Pete couldn’t keep his gaze off you.

“Why are you single?” Pete asked once his wife got up to go to the bathroom.

“You don’t strike me as the cruel type, Mr. Brenner,” you grinned as you made him another drink.

“Curiosity doesn’t equate to cruelty.”“You’re still here with your wife.”

“She’s in the bathroom.”

“Why’d you bring her tonight?”

“You heard me, this is what she wanted,” he cynically scoffed.

“They’re a lot nicer clubs than this one.”

“Can’t all be that nice if you don’t work there, sweetie.”

You both looked at each other for a moment before you heard, “Darlin’!” coming from the other end of the bar.

“Comin’ Charlie,” you laughed, breaking the stare with him, and shook your head. You used the bar to push yourself off away, down to it’s other end while Pete sipped the last of his remaining drink.

You didn’t need glasses to see that Pete Brenner was an attractive man, and he was important...well, he did his best to imply his importance (as if it would get him far with you). You’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t thought about going a few rounds with him in the bedroom, but you didn’t sleep with married men.

No matter how hard they tried, you had a set of both personal and professional rules that you abided by.

For the rest of the night, you stayed away from Pete and his wife unless they needed a refill. It was almost as if Tina was trying to make him regret his choice of celebration because she was throwing back her drinks like they were water. The night went smoothly enough, nevertheless, until you went outside for a smoke break.

“You should really quit those things,” came the voice of the last man you wanted to see or hear from.

“What do you want, Mark?”

“I come in peace, Sweet Thing,” he laughed, putting his hands up.

You’d always hated the nickname.

“Didn’t get enough arguing this morning? What else could you possibly have to say?” you questioned while you exhaled your frustration.

“You know you miss me, baby.”

“I miss the peace I had in my life before I met you.”

“You’re still working at this dump?”

“I have bills to pay.”

“You know I’d be more than happy to take care of you.”“Don’t want it. Nor do I want anything from you,” you snapped with a growl.

“Yet you drove yourself here in the car I bought for you,” he sneered, nodding in the direction of where the car was parked.

“Take the fucking car back then, Mark. If it means you’ll leave me the fuck alone, take back every single thing you ever gave me.”

Snickering, he made his way to you and grabbed your arm saying,“don’t be bitter when I know just how sweet you’re capable of being.”

With a scoff, you threw down your cigarette and bludgeoned it, “fuck this.”

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going? Enough with the goddamn attitude, Sweet Thing-”

“Let me go!”

“You’re coming with me-”

“Let her go!” you heard Pete yell as he quickly made his way over to you, leaving his wife to stumble to their car all alone.

She looked slack jawed from Pete to you, before her stare turned venomous and settled on you. It’s just what you needed on top of everything else; his prized Barbie play-toy thinking you were fucking her husband.

Great.

Read the rest of the story here

#fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #Pete Brenner #pete brenner x reader #pete brenner x you #pete brenner x y/n #pete brenner x female reader #chris evans character x reader #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans characters #Pain Hustlers #Pain Hustlers fanfic #Smut #Angst #Angst and fuff #pete brenner smut

107 notes · View notes

kissesforsatoru · 1 year

Text

WANT YOU SO BAD | wc : 4.4k

BULLY! HANEMIYA KAZUTORA x FEM!READER

₊˚⌗ you hate him. you hate him. he ruined your life, so you should hate him. kazutoras specialty has always been getting his way by changing the minds of others, though.

⤷ cw : general yandere themes, vague bullying, social isolation and social anxiety, dub-con, semi-public sex, soft sex but also rough sex (???), oral (receiving), marking/love bites, dirty talk, teasing, degradation, praise, way too much kissing, kazutora being a bit of a sadistat first, then he gets soft, then he's back to being a sadist, slightly delusional reader (they’re kinda into it even though kazutora ruined their life)

notes : at long last, it's finished and at 2:21 am 😭 GUYS I HAVE TO BE UP EARLY TOMORROW BUT SOMETHING OVERCAME ME AND I JUST HAD TO FINISH THIS TONIGHT IDK

i honestly don't know how i feel about it, but whatever. i hope you guys are able to enoy this because it was honestly a bitch to write 😭

you anxiously gripped the hem of your shirt as you walked down the halls of your school, eyes cast down to focus on anything other than the fact that you were surrounded by lots of other students. you avoided getting too close to any of them, opting more to stay closer to the wall while simultaneously shrinking into yourself to look as small and unnoticeable as possible.

you didn't have to look to know where you were going, so to keep your anxiety addled brain at bay, you kept your eyes on your feet. one in front of the other, one in front of the other. you just wanted to get to class as quickly as possible and preferably without any sort of incident today.

as much as you had hoped and willed the whims of fate, every single day at that, nothing every favored you or what you wanted.

you bit your lip and turned your head to the side as you rounded a corner, bumping into someone as you did. all of the books and papers fell to the floor along with you, regrettably scattering everywhere. you whined weakly as tears welled in your eyes at the pain that shot throughout your body.

your lip quivers as you brace yourself with your hands, looking up at the person you'd run into—a boy, someone you weren't familiar with, though. he looked you over with a countenance of disgust before quickly turning to walk away, biting harshly to 'watch where the fuck you're going'.

you sighed, leaning over to collect your fallen things. your body shook as you moved around on the, still weakened from the impact of falling.

nobody stopped to help you—nobody even acknowledged you, for that matter. not that you expected anyone to, because ever since kazutora spread rumors about you nobody wanted anything to do with you. not even takemichi, who was usually so sweet to you. it was pathetic, really, how easily your life had come to ruin over one little mistake you made: underestimating how serious kazutora's threats were.

you were well aware he hated you from the moment the two of you met, he made that very clear, but you never knew how deeply that hatred was rooted. you didn’t know he was being serious when he told you to stay away from tekemichi, and now you’re here, very much aware, but it's far too late for it to even matter anymore. your reputation was trampled and ruined so effortlessly that nobody dared to associate themselves with you anymore—except for kazutora, who was the one person you actually wanted to leave you alone.

"hey!" a gruff voice called from behind you, and you tensed, eyes widening as you picked up your things faster. you could only hope that the voice wasn't calling for you as you stood up and practically ran down the hall, no longer caring about the pain or if you drew unnecessary attention to yourself. at this point, anything was better than whatever it was that kazutora wanted, because no matter what, it probably wasn’t good for you.

you gasped and once again all your things dropped to the floor as you were suddenly grabbed and shoved against a wall. you grimaced, looking away and sliding down to the floor as a pained sob escaped your lips. kazutora glared harshly down at you as he put his arms on either side of you, caging you in and blocking any chance you had at escaping--which would have been futile even if you did attempt to run again.

kazutora huffed at the sight before him, mocking you as you practically shivered in fear. nothing brought him more satisfaction than seeing you like this—completely helpless and at his mercy. he liked that panicked look in your eyes whenever you saw him, and he liked the way you anxiously shied away from him whenever he was close. it made him feel so powerful and superior.

kazutora doesn’t know why he liked it so much, because he’s never enjoyed this kind of thing outside of his delinquency, but the way you reacted to him drew him in and made him yearn to control you in every way. it was exhilarating, really.

"why the hell were you running away from me, y/n? i know you heard me calling." you flinched, falling further down the wall as a sob escaped your lips again. you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, scratching your nails into your clothes as kazutora held your waist and gripped your chin.

he was close, far too close for your liking—though any distance from him wasn’t far enough for you, because no matter what, kazutora would always find you. it was like he had a leash wrapped around your neck, suffocating and inescapable. your many futile attempts to get away were pitiful and laughable at this point.

"fucking answer me, y/n." kazutora growled out slowly, his grip on your waist growing tighter with each second you remained silent. kazutora isn't a very patient man as it is, but whenever it came to you, he seemed all too pushy and demanding more than usual.

“i–i," you stutter pitifully, lip quivering as kazutora draws his face closer. "class–it… it starts soon." you spit out an excuse that you knew kazutora wouldn’t care for, but it was better than not saying anything.

he hums, grip loosening as he nods his head slowly. you almost sigh in relief, but you know better than to expect things to go off so simply. kazutora doesn’t care about class, or you getting there on time—your attendance records were proof enough of that. there had to be a catch of some sort, it was just a matter of figuring out what it was.

"you make a fair point, y/n. but you can't go to class looking like this…" he trails off, leaning back to rake his eyes steadily over your body. you wore a cute little skirt that came up to about mid thigh paired with a plain white shirt and light brown sweater vest on top. kazutora was more interested in the white knee high socks you were wearing, though. it made the outfit much more alluring, and dare he even say slutty.

kazutora grazed the soft skin of your exposed thigh with his finger tips while using his other hand to pull you closer by the waist. a little whimper escaped your mouth, and kazutora smirked as he saw how flustered you were getting.

kazutora’s never really touched you like this before, but he knew you were incredibly reactive to him anyway—always making small noises and gestures that were very telling of how you were feeling. he's always wondered how far he could take those reactions, and now he been given the opportunity to explore it thoroughly.

"kazutora, sto–mmh–stop." you choke out as you try to suppress the noises that threaten to spill from your lips. using one hand, kazutora pins your wrists to the wall while the other continues to feel you up. you can’t do anything as his cold fingers trace your skin salaciously with a certain slowness that makes you shiver under his touch.

"y/n… '' kazutora calls your name teasingly. "you’re dressed so slutty, you know? how can you expect me to control myself?" the question was met with watering eyes and a small whimper. for the first time since kazutora had ruined your life, you dared to look him in the eyes. it caught him off guard; his movements pausing and breath catching in his throat as he stared into your teary eyes—kazutora was pretty damn sure he might’ve just fallen in love again.

you were so fucking pretty. everything about you was just so captivating and attractive.

small noises escaped your lips as you wordlessly pleaded with him, but it was clear to kazutora that you weren’t exactly sure what it was you were pleading for.

he smirked, releasing your hands only to pick you up entirely to walk somewhere that you can only assume nobody will find you. you wrap your arms around him hesitantly, sniffling and biting your lip as you rest your chin on his shoulder. his grip tightened ever so slightly as you began to relax in his arms. you don’t know what’s happening, but honestly you don’t have the strength to question kazutora right now.

it didn’t take kazutora long to get to his destination, which you figured out was the gym supply closet after he sits you down on one of the cold mats.

a weird feeling in your stomach made you shiver as you shyly grabbed the hem of your shirt. kazutora spread your legs, shoving his larger body in between them while placing his hands on either side of you again. he was close, still too close for your comfort, but you weirdly felt okay with it now—the intention was different, now more of a hungry lust rather than aggression.

you flinched when you felt a hand press against your cheek and then a few seconds later a muffled gasp left your mouth when you felt soft lips press against yours. you place both your hands on kazutoras chest, not to push him away per se, but to ease the pressure of his lips against yours that were all too hungry and consuming.

you don't pull away either, despite being a little but confused and definitely scared. instead you allow kazutora to lead the kiss while you hesitantly following along—tried to at least, because you were sloppy with it. kazutora doesn’t seem to mind though since he doesn’t pull away and complain like you expected him to.

and inkling of doubt and worry slowly consume you as the kiss drags on, because this could full well just be another one of kazutora’s sick jokes. yet, there was a part of you, the part that kept you from thrashing and demanding to be let go, that wanted to believe that wasn't the case.

kazutora finally pulls away when your rhythm begins to slow and your body grows limp. soft little pants fill the room as you try to catch your breath, still holding tightly onto kazutora’s shirt that you ended up grabbing in the midst of the kiss. kazutora admires the look on your face in the meantime, all flushed and dazed like you’d just taken some sort of addictive drug that gives you a pleasure high. kazutora likes that thought—you being addicted to his kisses.

after a few minutes, kazutora pushes you down flat on the mat and crawls on top of your body. bracing both arms on either side of your head, and his knee between your legs, kazutora traps you beneath him. smirking as he leans down, kazutora revels in the sound of your whimper.

"you look so lewd, y/n. is this what you wanted, hm? for me to fuck you senseless for being a little slut in that outfit you've got on?" kazutora whispers against your neck, the warmth of his breath on your skin causing you to squirm. you turn your head away, embarrassed by his words.

"yeah, that's definitely what you wanted. you were practically begging me to fuck you with your pretty eyes earlier." kazutora licked the shell of your ear, nibbling gently at the top, dragging an airy gasp from your lips.

"no–mhph, please!" salty tears begin to steadily drip down your cheeks and between your parted lips, causing you to choke on your pleas. kazutora grabs your face and tilts your head so that he can lick away your tears.

"shh, you’re such a good girl, so pretty for me." he whispers as he starts rubbing your thighs again. he goes slow, more focused on intently watching you—the way you struggle to catch your breath and how your body continues to shiver ever so slightly as he drags his fingers along your skin lightly. every small noise that leaves your lips doesn’t go unnoticed by kazutora, and neither do any of your cute expressions. he takes them all in and commits them to memory, no doubt to think of when he jacks off when he's at home later.

“just wanna touch you a bit and make you feel good,” he whispers between licks and kisses to your tear stained cheeks.

you feel as kazutora trails his fingers over your body, spending extra time in the areas that make you gasp and whine. your body is all hot and all tingly, practically pulsating with pleasure as you squirm in anticipation of where he’ll touch you next. maybe your neck, where you’re most sensitive, or your thighs that were mushed against kazutoras leg in a desperate attempt to keep your wetness at bay. and while you would enjoy him touching you in those areas, you really hoped it would be in the place that you ached most for him, which was the one place he seemed to avoid.

your breath grows quick and ragged as kazutora drags his finger slowly between your breasts and down your tummy, continuing until he reaches the hem of your skirt where he stops to flick it up and reveal your already soaked underwear. an airy moan-like gasp leaves your lips when he suddenly presses his thumb onto your fluttering cunt.

“that’s right, little baby. you like that, don’t you?” he coos, tracing your bud teasingly a few times before rubbing it with a little more force. you close your eyes and nod curtly with a groan, much more focused on the way his thumb teases your pussy in all the right ways.

kazutora huffs at your reaction and pulls his fingers away, which draws a needy whine from you at the loss of contact. he shuts you up with another kiss, one that lasts only a few seconds as he's pulling away to kiss your cheek, then along your jaw and down to your neck where he sucks lightly in a few places.

he licks, sucks and kisses down the rest of your body, only stopping to take off your sweater vest and undershirt before he leans back down with desperation to kiss you more. he bites teasingly on your collarbone and licks his way down from your chest to your left breast that he latches onto easily. he sucks softly as he swirls his warm tongue around the bud, coaxing another sweet moan out of you, along with the many more to follow. you thread your fingers through his hair and tug on it gently whenever you jolt in pleasure.

kazutora pops off your nipple, licking it one last time, then he tilts his head and settles his mouth on the neglected one, intent on giving it the same attention. you begin to pant softly, hot and bothered by kazutoras stimulation. he suddenly bites your bud and tugs on it for just a second, causing you to arch your back and wrap your legs tightly around kazutoras waist. your wet cunt brushes against kazutoras hard cock, and he groans against your tit.

"mmh– ka–kazutora!" you moan, and you can feel as he smirks against your skin with a huff. he then pulls away, to which you whine, but he shuts you up with a kiss for the second time.

your tongues swirl together and drool seeps from both of your mouths. kazutora was determined to learn each and every part you you and engrave it permanently into his memory. he wants to know exactly what makes you feel good, what tips you over the edge and makes you scream out as your body convulses with pleasure. he wants to make you feels so good that you a cry and pass out, and he'll do just that.

kazutora pulls away and admires the way your tong lolls out of your mouth as you lean up to chase his lips. he coos, grabbing your chin to tilt your head up so he can place his tongue against yours; you squirm and whine beneath him in response.

your breath hitches and you make a strained noise when kazutora's fingers trace down your thigh and between your leg to press against your aching pussy lightly. you're even more wet now, and it has kazutora cursing beneath his breath as he feels his cock throb uncomfortably. he ignores it in favor of putting a bit more pressure on your clit, watching the way you shutter as he then begins to rub on it just a little bit--not enough for you to feel satisfied, apparently, because you buck and wiggle your hips to create more friction.

kazutora hums and lets you try to please yourself, but a lazy smile graces his lips when you quickly grow restless from the lack of pleasure you were receiving in your pursuit. you huff and whine, flicking your big, watery eyes to kazutora to give him a pleading look, but he only continues to watch you pitifully chase the little pleasure you got from your movements.

"please," you eventually mutter out in a half whine.

"hm? what was that? you have to speak up, pretty," he says lowly, tilting his head. you huff and whine some more out of frustration and kazutora's smile stretches wider.

"please," you repeat, this time louder, "want you to touch me," you decidedly add.

kazutoras smile is now a full-blown smirk as he eagerly pulls your panties off of you, putting your pussy on full display to him. pretty and all slicked up, practically begging to be eaten like a full course fucking meal. he doesn't touch you yet, though. instead, he grabs both your wrists to pins above your head, while with the other hand he spreads your legs further and slides his body down yours until his face is right in line with your cunny.

the warmth of his breath against your sensitive clit makes you mewl in anticipation. you moan loudly into the air and throw your head back when kazutora finally—finally—licks a stripe from your seeping hole to your puffy clit. then he does it again, and again, and again until he's slurping sloppily as he laps up all of your slick desperately, like a man starved.

you cry, whine, moan, and sputter any possible noise that you can as he mercilessly eats you out, letting go of your wrists to wrap his arms around your legs and hold you against his mouth as you try to buck and ease the pressure his tongue puts on your pussy. he latches onto your clit after he's satisfied with drinking up your wetness, sucking on it gently and swirling his tongue over it every now and then. he's driving you crazy; it feels so good, so, so good, but you're greedy—you want more.

“ahah— mmh, kazu–kazutora” you moan his name so sweetly; there’s a high-pitched, whiney edge to it when you do that makes you sound utterly wreck—it drives kazutora mad with hazy lust—makes him hold you down against the mat more firmly as he presses his tongue so expertly against your clit, drawing from you more delicious moans of his name.

he smirks against you as you come easily undone, and his eyes flick up to catch your pretty eyes roll back as your mouth falls wide open, a broken, yet completely enthralling slew of noises fall from between your bruised lips as you orgasm. kazutora doesn’t pull away though, despite the way your grip on his hair has becomes unrelenting from the overstimulation being forced upon your poor, spent body; he only does when you sob weakly and begin to pant heavily.

kazutora releases your hips and pulls himself up so that he’s hovering above you. you look so fucking perfect like this—fucked out, from just his mouth, drool seeping from the corner of you parted lips.

“fuck, baby. you’re such a naughty girl, huh?” he asks, but you don’t respond. he doesn’t expect you to anyway considering the kind of state you’re in; it’s no wonder that all you can do is whine and tug on kazutoras shirt like a needy fucking slut. he leans down to kiss you softly, simply enjoying how pliant you are for him right now. you kiss him back messy and lazy, but it doesn’t matter. kazutora doesn’t mind doing all of the work for the both of you.

when he pulls away, you're practically asleep, lying limp on the mat, eyes fluttering between opened and closed as you breathe airily. kazutora won't allow you to slip away though, not until he's done fucking you senseless.

you gasp, yes widening as you quickly sit up after you feel something penetrate you. kazutora smirks as he works a finger into you slowly, tauntingly, watching your face carefully. he lets you catch your breath for a second before he pulls out and plunges his finger back in, and oh, you breathe so enchantingly as his long fingers reach deeply inside of you.

he keeps his eyes on you as he stuffs you with a second and then a third finger, watching intently as you gape your mouth and your eyes begin to water--it's too much, he gathers, but continues nonetheless. his fingers and mouth are nothing compared to his cock, so you'll have to get used to it.

kazutora only pulls his fingers out when your walls begin to tighten around him, indicating that you're close to another orgasm; he wants the next time you cum to be around his cock. kazutora pulls his fingers out and licks his fingers clean, to which you fluster over, before he takes off his clothes. he hisses as he grabs his painfully hard cock, stroking it a few measly times as he crawls back over you and aligns himself to your entrance. he slips in just the tip, and the moan that escapes your pretty mouth is just as sweet as the rest of them.

he hungrily leans down to swallow the rest of your moans that follow as he slides himself all the way in. you grab his shoulders with a jolt as the tears finally begin to slowly drip down your already tear stained face. kazutora holds your chin in place while he drags his tongue along your cheeks, drinking up every tear that spills from your pretty eyes like a man that's been dehydrated.

kazutoras base presses firmly against you at last, and with a strained groan, he pulls out and then pushes back in, this time with a little more force then before. you clench around him, mewling so innocently, unbeknownst to the amount of control kazutora has left--it's a miracle that he does have any left when you're sprawled out on full display for him, but if you keep making those noises and fluttering around him so generously, he may full well end up fucking you like a rabid animal, and that is not what he wants at all—not for your first time at least.

trust him, he would more than love to hold you down and pound himself bruising into you until he's satisfied, but right now he just wants to hold you in his arms as he pleases you, take his time with it and make you feel loved. the threads of his patience are wearing, though.

you throw your heard back as kazutoras hips connect with yours, demanding and desperate, yet gentle in intention. every little movement he makes has you squirming in pleasure, eyes glassy, lips plump, and tongue lulled out of your mouth like a dumb cock-drunk whore. it's a sight that has kazutora shuddering and groaning lowly into your ear, which only does to make you more like putty in his hold. it feels so unbelievably good to have his body above you, caging you in as he fucks you steadily; it makes you want to cling onto him and beg for more, more, more, because you will never be able to get enough of it.

"fu—mmh—fuck, please! tora, tora i need it— need you," you babble on, writhing as that familiar coil in your stomach makes itself known. he smirks lazily above you, eyes hooded—there's a darkness to them now that wasn't there just a second ago, you note.

"hell, you sound like a proper whore, y/n. are you really that fucking cock hungry?" you choke on a moan at his words, but mostly due to the sharp thrust he does against your sopping cunt. you nod pathetically, slurring 'yes, yes,' even though his question was rhetorical. he snorts with a shake of his head as he leans down to nibble on your neck, no doubt leaving a mark, then he trails his nose up until you can feel the warmth of his breath on your ear.

"yeah, that's fuckin' right. who's making you feel this good?" he whispers and your thighs clench around his legs to keep even more slick from seeping onto them.

"you, you're," you say breathily, words slurred from the amount of overstimulation and pleasure you're feeling. a whine breaks from your lips when kazutora slows down and holds your wiggling hips in place.

"say my fuckin' name, call me tora or i won't let you cum, pretty baby," he growls, biting your neck in warning.

"you're makin' me feel so—hah—so good, tora," you choke on a weird moan-like sob when he shifts, sending a jolt through your body. "please, tora, don't stop. want you to make me cum," you finish, and he curses lowly into your neck. you sigh in content when he begins to thrust again. there's a little more force than before, but it drives you mad as your body pulsates with heat every time he drags his cock out and then straight back in.

"don't you ever fucking forget it," he mouths, almost high-pitched and whiney, "'m the only one that can fuck you like this, understand? you belong to me."

one of the hands on your hips comes to cup your clit, just for a second and then two of his fingers are rubbing on it at a pace that has you convulsing and crying in pleasure as you orgasm a second time. you call his name over and over again, once for every thrust that meets your hips, and you tug on his shoulders to bring him impossibly closer to your body.

kazutora curses and quickly pulls out of you before he cums, the warm liquid splattering on your heaving tummy, and he collapses on top of you, the both of you panting hotly as you come down from your pleasure highs.

#yandere #yandere thoughts #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere tokyo revengers #yandere tokrev #yandere tokrev x reader #yandere tokyo revengers x reader #yandere bully #yandere bully kazutora #yandere kazutora #yandere kazutora x reader #yandere kazutora hanemiya #yandere kazutora hanemiya x reader #yandere tokyo rev #yandere tokyo rev x reader #yandere tr

412 notes · View notes

zhongrin · 1 year

Text

unconvincing

◇ characters ◇ zhongli

◇ tags ◇ modern!au, formerdelinquent!zhongli, professor!zhongli

◇ a/n ◇ this au has me in a chokehold i swear

part 1 ⬙ part 2 ⬙ part 3

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli wore gloves now.

you presume he noticed that you saw his scars and how they aided you in connecting the dots regarding his identity, and so he chooses to cover them up.

well, that’s too bad. you think he has quite the pretty hands. you wonder, had you been brave enough back then, would you have been able to hold his younger self’s hand too? would his hands be smaller than they are now? would it have had the same deliciously protruding veins and the little scars, like that bump near one of his knuckles on his-

“is the tea not to your liking?”

you blink and freeze upon a familiar set of ambers staring you down. caught off guard, your cheeks heat up rapidly and you duck your head in favor of setting down the teacup a little too harshly against the plastic table of the staff’s break room. you feel guilty, like a child who just stole a forbidden candy, but you force your voice to sound normal as you settle your palms on your lap, gripping the material of your clothes tight.

“o-oh no, it’s great! uh- this is darjeeling, right?”

“ah, you recognize the taste? yes. these are the second flush leaves, and so if you noticed there’s a very distinct muscatel aroma-”

morax- no, zhongli launches into an explanation over the harvesting process of this specific darjeeling tea leaves, and you can’t help but drown yourself in the allure of his voice. you remember it being slightly a little more high-pitched than this, although it was rougher around its edges and delivered with a mostly stoic facade back then. in the present time, his voice is smooth and clear, like the undeterred trickle of a clear stream sourced from the tallest mountains.

at these moments, it feels as if morax and zhongli were two different people altogether.

you would have never thought you would be able to sit at the same table as morax like this; not even in your wildest dreams. and it all started with a simple invite for a “tea break”, one day. to return the favor for the chocolate, he had said. you brought a few tea biscuits along, and before you could dread the awkwardness that would result from your poor communication skill, zhongli had taken the mantle of the conversationalist. before you knew it, you were both so lost in sharing all the things you’ve done after high school with each other, you almost missed the recess-is-over bell.

despite almost being late to your classes, the next day, he told you he had procured new tea leaves for the both of you to enjoy. you could barely hold yourself back from jumping in excitement as you followed him to the same break room (huh, maybe that high school crush never really did left you completely). rinse and repeat, lo and behold, the “tea break” becomes a routine, and now both of your students know where to find you when they need to ask questions when the second recess comes by.

it’s not long before the young ones started using their young adult brains to concoct some theories about the two of you. you’re always together. you seem so close to each other in a way that other teachers can’t replicate. therefore, they’re quite sure there must be something going on between two of their favorite teachers.

“mx. [name], are you dating mr. zhongli?”

you cough and sputter at the sudden question that came out of nowhere. just five minutes ago, the girl had stopped you in the hallway to ask about the recent assignment you gave her class, so naturally, you indulged her questions and soothed her anxiety about not being able to complete it in time.

but to suddenly spring something like this on you??

“no, we are not. whatever makes you think so? now, if that's all-”

“but you’re always together! on recess and stuff… plus you walk home with each other too!” she looks up at you with innocent pair of doe eyes and gasps, “oh! is it because you're both already living together? that must be it!”

“no, no no no no! dear gods, you’ve got it all wrong!”

“then what is it?? mx! you’re hiding a secret from us!!”

well, yes, but no, you thought in frustration. you’re smart enough to know why zhongli does not want his past as morax revealed. and you’re now good enough friends-slash-coworkers that you want to prevent his career from being destroyed just because of the mistakes he made in his youth. so you choose to avoid answering the real question.

running away has always been one of your many talents, after all.

“our relationship is strictly professional.”

“but-”

“there is nothing else to be said.”

“aw, mx, come onnn-”

“is there an issue?”

your timing couldn’t be worse, you yell inwardly as a clueless zhongli enters the scene. with one sweeping look across the area, you can already tell the majority of the students are listening silently at the exchange. no doubt whatever transpires today will spread all over the student body by the end of the day.

you would know. you were just like them once upon a time.

“mr. zhongli!” the girl beams, eyes starry, as she glances at the two of you in interest, “i was just asking mx. [name] about your relationship!!”

“our… relationship?” the man repeats, blinking, a look of alarm crossing his face.

“yup! soooo…. are you dating or are you married? it’s got to be either one of the two, right?”

you resist the urge to hide your head in your hands or to fake a sudden dizzy spell right in the middle of the hallway. you expected zhongli to recoil in disgust. perhaps frown and sigh, before continuing to chide the student for her overly active imagination-

-but you never expected him to chuckle in amusement.

“my, what an honor. so, do you think we look good together?”

“not just me! everyone does!! we totally ship- i mean- we’re totally rooting for you!! wait… so is it really true?!”

“unfortunately, neither is the case,” zhongli says calmly, and he checks his wrists before giving the student a gentle smile, and an equally gentle nudge in the form of her name. “why don't you move along? i believe you have your drama club practice soon.”

“oh, shit! right! bye mx. [name], mr. zhongli-” she gives you both a devious grin, “mark my words, this isn’t over!”

“language!” he calls out as the young girl speeds away, before turning to you, “are you alright, [name]?”

“i- yes. just a little frazzled. that was… unexpected…,” you say as normally as possible when all you want to do is to grab his collar and shake him because what the hell was that response and what did he mean by ‘unfortunately’???

“i see. as luck would have it, i have some tea leaves with a calming effect on my personage. and there’s never a rule to never drink more than one type of tea in a day. how about partaking in an extra cup in my office?”

“…. only if i get to grade some assignments while we’re at it.”

“sounds like a plan.”

as zhongli leads you away from the scene with his hand on your back, with you musing about the preparation for the nearing school festival, a unanimous thought united the students who had been watching the scene.

they’re totally dating, at the very least.

literally how are they not married?

#astronetwrk #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #rin writes

583 notes · View notes

bubbles-for-all-of-us · 7 months

Note

What about Carmy kind of having really bad anxiety after he realizes he is in love with you and is stressed over if he should tell you and if so how. He has never felt this way before

Scared to love you

Carmen is not the best with his words as we all have grown to know so if his brain did the math and he was to come to the conclusion that he liked you... yeah, his sensitive brain would be overheating.

Carmen would get more snappy towards you. It's almost his defensive a mechanism. He doesn't know what a healthy and happy relationship looks like. He doesn't have an example in his family. Everything around him is fucked up. He had never had a happy thing to hold onto and now you and your presence had because valuable to him. So what if it all goes titts up? He loses you... you end up hating him for the rest of your life. So he's determined to push you away to save himself from the pain.

But the thing is, Carmy can't help the warm and fuzzy feeling that grows within him when you walk into the restaurant. He can't help but notice the time you usually get there and so if you're even five minutes late, Carmen is already starting to worry. He is angry when you weren't careful. Raising his voice at the time. It's like something would snap within him. Knife of the edge, scratch on the skin, pot too full, you name it.

"Oh, stop it, Berzatto. I had it", you threw your hand towel to the side. It was a busy evening at the Bear tonight. You two had been biting each other's throats for an hour now. "No, the fuck you didn't. You barely had it", Carmen spat, he had followed you outside even if you wished he hadn't. "I got the dishes sent out in time. Stop bitching..", but you didn't get to finish the rest of your sentence because Carmen had stepped closer. His fingers held your wrist firmly, "Show me", he muttered. You frowned, "What...", "Show me your palms", he demanded, you tightened your jaw.

He shook your fists a couple of times before you finally relaxed your fingers. Angry red burns started right at the two of you. "Fuck", Carmen cursed, his shoulders slumped. "It's nothing", you breathed out but Carmen only growled in return and reached for his ice water cup, dunking your palms in it.

"Carmen...", you tried, "No, are you insane? Could have just asked me to get it or hand you the gloves", he wasn't even looking at you now too focused on your hands, "Why do you do shit like this? You can't do shit like this. You can seriously hurt...", he breathed out as you leaned your forehead against his. You had an idea that his thorny exterior was his way of hiding his feelings for a while now. "I'm fine. This will heal", you muttered, Carmen moved one of his hands to rest on your side, "I fucking like you", he blurted out, eyes going big. "Yeah, I figured", you smiled at him and before he could jump in to defend himself you added, "You should know that I like you too, bear. Just for the record".

#carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear #the bear tv show #the bear imagine #the bear x reader

206 notes · View notes

bratzforchris · 10 months

Note

can you do a request where the reader struggled with depression/anxiety and Ashton is there to help her ? he’s there to comfort her through it all :)

I'll Take Care of It

❃

Summary: Above

Pairing: Ashton x feminine reader

Warnings: Depression, anxiety, talks of medication and sh

Word Count: 819

A/N: I hope you love it! Supportive boyfriend Ashton is so lovable and snuggly :)

❃

You sighed, pulling the comforter over your head. Today was just one of your blue days. Nothing seemed to be enjoyable enough to pull you out of bed and your bad thoughts were running wild in your brain, making you doubt yourself and your relationship.

You had struggled with anxiety and depression since you were thirteen. You had good days and bad days just like any other human, but when you had bad days, absolutely nothing got done.

Downstairs, Ashton was practicing his drums, rehearsing for tour later this month. You longed to go to him, to just sit on his lap and cry until you felt all better, but you knew you couldn't. He was so busy and stressed lately that it would be unfair of you to burden him with your problems too.

And so, you wallowed alone in your misery. You had always been a late sleeper, so Ash wouldn't see anything suspicious about it being just gone ten and you weren't up yet. Sleep wouldn't seem to come to you, though.

The longer you laid in bed, the guiltier you felt. You had strayed off your anti-anxiety and anti-depressants lately because they made you feel so blah. You wren't happy when you took the medicine; the pills took away the things that made you you. Ashton didn't know this, however. You knew he would scold you about your health if you told him.

You sighed, rolling onto your back and running your thumb gently over your scarred forearm. You had stopped self-harming since being with Ashton, but sometimes you wondered if it would help at all to get a break from the immense emotional pain you experienced for seemingly no reason.

Deep in thought, you barely heard your boyfriend enter the bedroom quietly, his footsteps muted by the plush carpet.

"I'm awake..." You whispered softly, hoping Ashton could hear you since your voice was muffled by the blankets.

"Oh! Good morning then, love!" he said cheerfully, going to open the blinds. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"You didn't." You sighed.

"Something wrong?" Ashton asked, looking up from putting away his laundry. "You're awfully quiet."

You stayed silent. You didn't know how to answer Ash's question. "I'm fine. Just tired." You said eventually.

Ashton paused his laundry and walked over to your shared bed, sitting down beside you. He had been with you long enough to notice your moods and when you were slipping into a more depressed state. "Would you like a hug?"

You nodded, peeking your head out from the covers. You could feel tears pooling in your eyes, and you tried your best to keep them at bay. Ash immediately wrapped you in a hug, holding you in his strong arms.

"I know when something's wrong." he hummed quietly, chin resting atop your head.

"I just..." You trailed off, sniffling against his chest.

Ashton didn't urge you to speak. Instead, he simply ran a hand up and down your back until you were ready to talk again.

"I've just been feeling anxious and depressed lately and I don't know why." You huffed.

"Oh sweetie," he cooed. "It's okay to not know why. We all have feelings and sometimes we can't understand why we have to go through misery and hurt."

"There's no explanation." You began to cry again. "I have a perfect life. I'm dating you, my writing has been going well, I'm not struggling."

"And sometimes there won't be an explanation," Ashton said softly. "All you can do is try your best to make it through and that's exactly what you're doing."

You sniffled against his chest once more before quietly speaking. "I haven't been taking my meds either..."

Your boyfriend was quiet for a moment as he thought up a response. "Well, I know how much you hate taking them; I would never want you to be miserable. But I do want you to get the help you need." he said softly.

You shrugged against his chest. "Maybe I should talk to the psychiatrist again..."

"That's a good idea," Ashton said gently. "They can help you get the correct things you need without hurting you."

You didn't know what else to say, so you simply snuggled yourself further into Ashton's chest, burrowing in his strong, muscular arms. You two stayed like that for quite some time, with Ashton rocking you gently and mumbling soft things to you.

Eventually, the honey-blond spoke. "Would you like some breakfast, lovely?"

You nodded your head. Despite being rather anxious, you were still pretty hungry. Besides, Saturdays were your and Ashton's "pancake days".

Ash smiled, helping you up and into one of his big hoodies. Once you were ready, he helped you downstairs and to the kitchen, smiling as he sat you down with a warm cup of coffee.

"You just sit here and relax," he cooed, kissing your cheek. "I'll take care of it."

221 notes · View notes

archangeldyke-all · 2 months

Note

hello! what are your thoughts on sevika with a reader who has crippling anxiety? like most days in bed because she cannot leave. of course you don’t have to and remember to take care of yourself🩵

i've been there it's so fucking horrible, i hope this eases some of that pain for you baby. <3

men and minors dni

she has a whole system in place for when her baby's having bad days.

all you need to do is tell her that you're feeling anxious and she's on it.

she never forces you to do something you don't want to, and she tries her very best not to overwhelm you. she just gently sits on the side of your bed, rubbing your back beneath the blankets as she quietly asks you what she can do for you.

sometimes the answer is nothing. when this is the case, sevika will leave you to sleep for a while as she goes to the kitchen to cook up your absolute favorite foods. it doesn't matter how indulgent or unhealthy they are, she just wants to get something in your stomach. she'll come back a few hours later, help you sit up in bed, and present a plate loaded with food to you.

she's never had to yet, but she'd even be willing to feed you if you asked her to.

she's certain to keep your water filled and by your bed. even if you don't drink it, she comes in once every few hours to put fresh ice in it, just so when you find the motivation to grab it it'll be nice and cool for you.

if you want to be alone, she'll leave you alone. she'll set you up with your phone or laptop and charger, pulling up your comfort show and putting all your social medias on mute-- hoping that you won't start doom scrolling.

she still checks in on you once or twice an hour, just poking her head in to make sure you're okay, pressing a kiss to your head before leaving you alone again.

but if you don't want to be alone, sevika's all over you.

she'll curl up around you, one hand on your heart and one on your stomach, gently drawing circles into your skin as she deeply breathes in your ear so you subconscious can match it.

if you want it quiet, she'll stay quiet. if you want to watch your comfort show, she'll watch it with you. but if you want to hear her voice, sevika will talk herself hoarse to bring you some comfort. anything from the weather to her earliest memories as a child-- she'll tell it all to you just to distract you from your brain.

if you start feeling restless and jittery, sevika's happy to flop on top of you and act as your personalized weighted blanket.

it doesn't matter how long it takes-- sevika will wait by your side (or in the next room) with you until your anxiety lessens enough that you feel like you can get up.

and when you finally do, she'll help you to the shower, stripping you down and turning the water on to the perfect temperature before guiding you under the stream.

she lets you stand like that for a few minutes while she puts fresh pj's on the counter and fresh sheets on the bed. then, she strips down and comes in with you, helping you wash-- knowing how overwhelming even that can be for you.

and when you're done, if you're up for it, sevika will dress you up and take you on a very very quick walk around the block.

i'm talking short. like up the street and back. she knows that being away from home makes you anxious-- the last thing she wants to do is make it worse. she just wants you to get some fresh air because she knows it helps. and usually, by the time you guys are back in front of your house, it has helped, and you tug on her hand and ask if she'd like to go around the whole block with you.

she always says yes. always.

when you get back home, no matter how late (or early) it is, sevika will make you a cup of sleepytime tea or a glass of warm milk or hot chocolate, along with a few melatonin capsules.

she'll guide you back to bed and lay with you until you start snoring. it's only then that she'll rise and change herself into sleeping clothes, gathering the plates that have accumulated by your bed and taking them to the sink, but leaving them for the morning. after all-- she's got you all cozy in her bed. she's not gonna leave you alone for a moment longer than she needs.

it doesn't matter how often it happens. it doesn't matter how long it will take. sevika's going to be by your side though thick and thin, and it'll take a whole lot more than bad anxiety to scare her away.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

91 notes · View notes

thewulf · 4 months

Text

Here For You || JJ Maybank

Summary: Request - could you write a jj maybank and sister where she has a panic attack and he helps?

A/N - Ahhh I just cannot get enough of a good old hurt/comfort. This was a little different of a write since its an X sister! insert but I had a really good time writing it. A little shorter than usual but I really like it! Thanks for the request @obxlover14

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k+

TW: Talks of Breakdowns, anxiety, overwhelming feelings etc.

It always happened when you least expected. The panic came over in a massive wave that engulfed your entirety seemingly out of nowhere. You’d been stressing out a little lately. Getting older meant decisions had to be made. Were you going to try and go to college? Or were you simply going to stay on the island and find weird jobs after graduating high school being the disappointment your dad expected from you? These thoughts consumed you whole making it hard to think of anything else. You started ruminating on it and before you knew it hot tears were streaming down your face.

It usually didn’t get this bad. You were normally able to stop you brain from going this far down the spiral it so often wanted to. You were a complete and utter mess who hid it well from the others. Ever since your mother left nearly ten years ago your father become more and more abusive as the years ticked on. Attributing that to your anxiety all you wanted to do was get the hell out. You knew JJ wanted to as well and he could. He turned eighteen a few months ago. But he waited around for you. Far too terrified at the thought of leaving you alone with your shared father. If you could even call him that anymore.

You found a wall in the hallway leading up to the kitchen and leaned back on it. Sliding down you brought your knees in close to your chest trying to huddle in on yourself. Bringing your hands up your tried to rub the anxiety away from your face to no avail. You tried your normal methods of calming down but was coming up devastatingly short. Tears kept slipping out of your eyes as your tried to slow your every increasing heart rate. Thank God your father was at work, you couldn’t imagine the ass beating that would come from a breakdown. Only further deteriorating your already rapidly declining mental state.

Not having a clue how long you were sitting there you tried your best counting back from a hundred. Trying to ground yourself in the moment. But you just couldn’t seem to get the hang of it. You kept losing track and having to restart after your mind started playing those normal tricks on you.

You felt a gentle hand on your shoulder breaking you from the trance you were seemingly locked in on. Head snapping around you met the familiar blue eyes of your older brother. Normally happy go lucky but a growing concern clouded his vision as he looked you over.

He grabbed at the hand that was grabbing at your own face, prying it away from its grasp, “Hey kid, there you are.” His smile was anything but real but he was trying his best to get you comfortable. It wasn’t all the often he came home to you cowering in on yourself on the floor unresponsive to his calls.

“I’m sorry.” You looked at him with wide eyes as you came back to the present. How long were you sitting there? A few seconds? Minutes? Hours? You hadn’t a damn clue.

He ignored you continuing, “Are you okay? I called out for you a few times.” He looked you over only giving a soft sigh once he concluded you were physically fine. Mentally he hadn’t any idea what you were going through.

You nodded before looking away. Suddenly embarrassed by your episode, “I’m okay JJ.” You voice rasped out sounding like it hadn’t been used in weeks. Were you yelling? Why did it sound so hoarse?

“That’s not very believable kid.” He sat down next to you letting you know he wasn’t planning on going anywhere until you stated speaking. As gently as JJ could manage he brushed your hair out of your face.

“Well, you better believe it.” You offered a rather pathetic smile. Again, not terrible believable and JJ clocked it.

“Come on, spill.” He spoke waiting on your response.

You looked him over. He didn’t look very thrilled with you. It was more out of concern than anything else, but it still made you terribly embarrassed. It seemed so pathetic, especially when you tried to explain it out loud.

“I’m just overwhelmed J.” You sighed in defeat not really wanting to go into much more detail.

He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly as if trying to read your cryptic mind. Sure he was your sibling but he wasn’t a miracle worker. He didn’t know the ins and outs of what kept your mind racing, “What about?”

“The future.” You answered honestly not trying to hide it from it. He’d get the answer he wanted from you anyway.

He gave you the first genuine smile of the afternoon, “You’re only a Junior. You’ve got some time to figure it out.”

You shook your head, “Applications are due soon. I don’t even know if I want to go to college. What will I do there? I can’t waste any time there. Don’t have the money too…” You began to babble.

He placed a grounding hand on your shoulder, “Relax, Y/N.”

“I can’t JJ!” You snapped. Eyes wide. You rarely yelled at your older brother. You knew better.

He ignored your outburst once again and placed a second hand on your other shoulder, “I need you to breathe after me. Alright?”

You nodded watching him closely. Mimicking his actions slowly. Breathing in for a second longer than you wanted and out. Copying him for a few minutes did actually help as your breathing slowed which also dropped your heartrate.

A few more tears slipped down your face as you calmed down. Thank goodness for your older brother being able to break you from the entrapment of your mind. After one last shaky breath your eyes met his once again. He looked nervous. It was an expression your rarely, if ever, saw on your older brother and you were sure it was because of you. What a time to have a mental fucking breakdown.

“I’m sorry J.” You breathed out in more of a whisper once again embarrassed by your very own whisper.

He shook his head, “Don’t say sorry. That’s what I’m here for kid.” Knowing that you were somewhat okay he reached over and wrapped you into his arm giving you one big squeeze. JJ adored you, his younger sister by a few years. See, you were the best of the Maybank’s. As kind as they came and smarter than ever. JJ knew he had to get you off this island one way or another. After seeing you so panic stricken over everything JJ knew it wasn’t a matter of it but when. You were too good for this island. Bound for so much more even if you didn’t know it yet. JJ did.

You nodded into his shoulder not daring to say another word knowing it’d come out a shaky mess. It was nice letting yourself feel the comfort from somebody you loved and adored. JJ might not have known it but you always looked up to him. He was never afraid to speak his mind, make new friends, go on crazy adventures. He was the opposite of you and you adored that about him. He was so unashamed to be himself. It did get him into trouble more than you liked to admit.

He spoke up breaking you out of your quiet stupor once more, “You don’t have to be scared. That’s what I’m here. That’s what the pogues are here for. We’re here to talk, okay?”

You nodded knowing you would never actually take him seriously. It wasn’t your place to bother them with sixteen-year-old problems. They had their own shit to deal with. Own people to please.

“Hey, I’m serious.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. He wouldn’t take that as an answer though.

“Look at me kid.” He said more seriously than he had in this entire interaction with him.

You did as he said and waited.

“You’ve got to speak to me. Talk to me. Or somebody. You can’t let these emotions bottle up anymore. It’s okay if you’ve got to talk about it. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze letting you know he was there for you, always.

When you didn’t speak he finished, “I’m here for you kid.”

“I love you J.”

His smile reached his eyes, “I love you too kiddo. Forever and always. But you know that.”

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

134 notes · View notes

loriannbowman · 4 days

Text

Honkai Star Rail X Arknights | Yandere!Sunday X Sankta!Reader | Part Two

You have always been a sensitive sleeper, not necessarily light, but very aware of what was happening to your body when unconscious. You could feel every poke, prod, and needle that touched your skin, no matter how deep your sleep was. And right now, you can feel someone touching you, probably trying their best to wake up you.

You shiver and twitch at the sudden touches. The cold touch was definitely The Doctor's gloved hands.

Sunday, who has been leading you away from the bright and colourful lights of the city seems to notice this agitation. The feathers on one of his wings twitches slightly, not so dissimilar to a cat's ear hearing a sound behind them.

"Are you alright?"

You rub your arm across the goosebumps that now liter your skin, hair prickling against the fabric of your glove.

"Fine," you say through gritted teeth.

Sunday, in one swift motion, turns directly around to face you, his seemingly imposing presence staring down at you. His heels snap together, hands pressed against his back in a professional manner. He leans in towards you, a light seemingly emitting from his halo.

"Lying is a bad habit."

You don't get why, but chills and anxiety flood through your blood system. You can feel your heart beating faster, so fast, in fact, you wonder if Doctor Loriann noticed the spike. You can almost feel their fingers pressing against your neck.

"I'm not lying," you bite back.

You're a combat specialist, along side being a medical researcher. You're not going to back down to some man in a suit. This man probably has never had a physical fight in his life.

His eyes suddenly feel like they're burning, searing, into the calloused flesh of my body. You can't help but feel itchy, like thousands of spindly spiders are crawling underneath the surface of your skin.

You'd almost rather deal with your Oripathy pains than this uncomfortable feeling. You can't help but swallow a sharp pain in your throat.

After agonizing seconds, Sunday looks away. He straightens his spine, his eyes closed with contemplation. It looks as though his wings extend a little, a similar tactic as a bird to increases their size.

"May The Harmony forgive your words," he mutters under his breath.

Sunday turns back around in a sharp and crisp movement before raising his hand, a sign to continue to follow him.

You can't argue, he's apparently an authority in this place... Then it dawns on you...

"U-Um... I know that this is a little late to ask, b-but what is your name?"

Sunday casually looks over his shoulder, the lights of the city in front of him giving him a glow.

"Hmm? Did I never introduce myself? I deeply apologize. My name is Sunday Oak, head of the Oak Family. And you are?"

You bite both of your lips, feeling the plush between your teeth.

"Um... I-I'm (Y/n)... but you can call me Lamplight... It's my codename."

"Lamplight? Codename? Why would you need a codename?"

"... It's not important."

Sunday hums lightly before cooing.

"You'll tell me eventually. You are going to be questioned after all. Don't forget, you're under suspicion as a stowaway into the Dreamscape."

You can't help but grumble, kicking the ground slightly in annoyance.

"Sack of dirt-- Feather Faced-- Stupid freaking--"

❥ Sunday wishes so badly he could read your thoughts. He wants to know anything and everything, wanting to pick your brain apart.

❥ Sunday who has to restrain himself from immediately using the power of The Harmony that was so graciously gifted upon him.

❥ Sunday who wishes to punish you as the sinner you are.

53 notes · View notes

tinalbion · 17 days

Note

Hi!! I am OBSESSED with Rusty Nail atm, so I was wondering how he would react to a wife reader who has really bad anxiety?

Thanks for the amazing content :)

-phantom

Oh you absolutely can!

I apologize for the EXTREME lateness of this, I fell into the void, I got back into art and I just sorta got taken over by drawing, but I've been craving to write again and I am missing my truck driver man, so let's get right back into it! Anytime you need some Rusty, I am here for you!

Rusty Comforting You When You're Dealing with Anxiety ||

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: None - Comfort, fluff

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Rusty tries his best to help you when you're feeling anxious

Rusty wouldn't have picked up on it right away when you two started seeing each other, he just figured that all people have their quirks, and everyone is different, but the more he pays attention to you, the more he's led to believe it's not just a part of your everyday habits. He kept a watchful eye on you after one particular night when you felt yourself slowly spiraling out of control, and you had simply tried to play it off that you were fine. But Rusty knew you weren't, everything he knew about you said otherwise.

Anxiety was fickle and yours acted up in any situation, anything could trigger it, and you despised it. One moment you sat there beside Rusty, your eyes fluttering closed as you drifted off, and then your brain would go into overthinking mode, which made you snap your eyes open and stare ahead as you tried your best to calm down. Rusty wasn't well suited nor capable of dealing with ways to calm you, but he learned over time being married to you.

Whether it was something simple like bringing you a warm cup of whatever beverage you preferred to calm your nerves, or he remembered to pick up one of your favorite snacks from the gas station he stopped in, it was always in the back of his mind to think of things that could make you happy, to ease you into comfort. But most times, he would offer himself.

The large man would always practically wrap around your entire body when he held you, and you clung to him and refused to let go as he would sit there with you, making sure you did some deep breaths in through your nose and out of your mouth. He didn't have many words of wisdom to impart upon you, but who needed them when he would speak to you in that low tone you found so soothing? His large hand would caress your back, making sure he spoke to you calmly about anything and everything.

“Hey now, you're alright, ain't ya?” He would ask you. “You're here, I'm here. I gotchu,” he cooed. “Yer alright, I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Promise?” “Course I promise.”

His voice was a source of comfort to you, you were always so attracted to his voice, and you had heard the range from anger to softness. No matter the situation, you focused on that and it grounded you for the most part. You’d curl up into his side, and no matter what you were feeling, his warmth, his largeness, it always enveloped you and made you feel tranquility like nothing else. Once you two had bonded, he fully believed that you would be his forever and vice versa, so he took the ‘in sickness and in health’ vow very seriously. He was quick to anger in some situations, but when it came to you, he had all the patience in the world, and he would do his best to walk you through it.

Whenever you had the attention span to sit down and discuss your anxiety with him, you would tell him things that could help you, and coming from him, it would mean the world to you if he could attempt anything to get you to destress.

So that’s what he did, and whatever the reason why you were feeling the way you were that day, he’d guide you by your hand and have you sit down either on the sofa or outside on the porch. He knew fresh air helped most days, or if he was out on the road, he’d immediately find a place to pull over so he could walk you through it. No matter what, he wanted to be your source of safety, and if it meant prolonging a job, he’d do it.

He likes to make sure you’re aware he’s there, whether its placing his massive hand on the small of your back, your thigh, or your knee. He finds it comforting for himself if he physically shows you that he’s there for you. He also hopes that you’re able to understand that this is the way he is when it comes to being there for you. Even if you have to cry to let out your frustrations, he will hold you and let you do whatever it was you needed to do.

Another thing he took notice of is that you like to steal his undershirts. “They smell like you!” you’d say, pouting if he tried to take it. So he’d give you one of his shirts to wear when you were having a particularly bad day. He slowly but surely became aware of your moods and how they could fluctuate, but he found you to be one of the most precious people on the planet. You accepted him and all of his faults, he’d never deny yours, so he vowed to take care of you.

Doesn’t matter what time of day it is, if he deems it necessary, he’s going upstairs, running you a bath, and then he’s making you lay down with him just to relax your muscles. You were always tense, always bouncing your leg, or just trying to find busy work whenever you were unable to perform anything, especially that one time you had forgotten about the food cooking on the stovetop. Thankfully, Rusty was home and not out on the job, he was able to save a few of the side dishes before a fire started, but he didn’t blame you for it. Ever since then, he understood that this was something more and he constantly kept an eye on you, took notice of how you spoke to him, and would easily pick up on tone of voice and body language.

Rusty can understand taking care of someone who offends you, a physical person he can easily dispose of and watch the life drain from their eyes for treating you in such a way. But this? It was a challenge to be sure, but he wasn’t too old of a dog to learn new tricks, and he was trying to make more of an effort since you always went out of your way for him.

#tinalbion writings #rusty nail joyride #rusty nail x reader #rusty nail imagine #rusty nail headcanons #rusty nail x gn!reader #rusty nail x f!reader #rusty nail joy ride 2 #slasher community #slasher headcanons #slasher imagines #slasher x reader #joy ride 2 dead ahead #tina asks #comfort #slight angst #drabble

40 notes · View notes

sunflowersandsapphires · 1 month

Text

Including Sunlight

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 4

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around.

warnings: swearing, fluff, Frank having unhealthy coping mechanisms

a/n: I'm so sorry that this update is late, everyone! I've had a wacky month and it has completely thrown me off. Huge shout out to @xxdrixx for reminding me (again XD) to post what I'd written, and to my loves @madschiavelique and @gracethyomen for helping me plot the upcoming angst arc!!!

w/c: 5.9k

You hadn’t known Frank for very long, but that didn’t stop him from becoming a necessary fixture in your life. Needing Frank was similar to needing light, or fresh air. Sure, you could go without it for a bit, but it would drastically reduce the quality of your life.

Two days into his “business trip” (which you assumed was a cover for some illegal shenanigans because what sort of freelance construction worker has business trips), you were missing Frank something awful, and it seemed like Max was too. Though you’d tried your best to stick to the existing routine Frank had explained to you, the dog would get mopey in the evenings, laying his head on your lap with a dramatic sigh as he stared longingly towards the door.

Frank hadn’t so much as sent an emoji since his departure, a fact that highlighted his already glaring absence. You had no idea if he was even alive, but you refused to go down that path knowing you’d never make it out of that endless anxiety spiral. Hoping not to bother him while he was away, you’d refrained from reaching out. Until Max’s heavy sighs were too much for you to bear.

“I’ll see what I can do, buddy.” You promised, pulling out your phone and taking a picture of his pouting face.

Sending Max’s sulking portrait off to your stoic neighbor, you included a message.

You: I think he misses you. Hope you made it safely. ❤️

You were about to set your phone down, not expecting him to respond, but your phone buzzed immediately.

Frank: Sorry, bud. He behaving for you?

You: He’s being a perfect gentleman. Please come back to us in one piece.

Frank: Cross my heart.

Smiling at the fluttery sensation in your chest, you set your phone down and resumed petting the pitbull taking up residence on your lap.

Come back to us. A poor imitation of your melodic voice played throughout his brain on a loop as he got settled in the motel and began recon. It had been hours since you’d texted him and Frank couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not that he could ever stop thinking of you; the only thing that had kept him going through the bland, cross-state drive was the knowledge that he had you to return to.

And didn’t that terrify him. The knowledge that he had forged a connection valuable enough to anchor him on bad days should have triggered his factory reset. Cut all ties, change home and job, never look back. But you made him weak–sapping the resolve out of him with your doe eyes and intoxicating personality. He’d never be able to leave you like that, even if his proximity to you would get you killed.

Gritting his teeth, he began disassembling his rifle for the umpteenth time, hoping the familiar rhythm would provide an opportunity for his mind to claw its way out of the paranoid spiral it was currently parachuting down. Because it would do him no good to imagine the ways this could all fall apart. The high that your genuine care ignited in him was a hard one to shake, and he craved your affection more than any drug.

Frank was no stranger to being forgotten, hell, most days he wished for it. Disappearing into the shadows made his work easier and it had helped him prevent situations like this, like you, in the past. Yet here he was, three states away, feeling desired and significant because of four little sentences of fucking text. You were a goddamn miracle.

Placing the final piece of his weapon back into its place, he drew his hands towards himself, examining them. Given the nature of his work, both legal and less than, the skin was rough and littered with impressive callouses. Streaks of gun oil, dirt, and general grime lingered on the pads of his fingers and under his nails, a testament to the indelicacy of his job. How could he allow himself to touch you with these hands?

How could the universe allow him to indulge in something so pure, after what he’d done?

He’d given you his name, his real one, but there was no way you knew the extent of his crimes against the people in your city–if you did, you’d surely never speak to him again. Before meeting you, he’d never questioned his choices. Wiping the murderous, sex-trafficking and drug-dealing scum from the face of the Earth was his purpose, and he lived it with pride. Pulling the trigger, releasing bullet after bullet into the chest of some criminal douchebag, it was the only reason he had the energy to keep going after the loss of his family.

But the violence, that he’d made peace with, it separated him from the rest of society, kept him from forming attachments with people as delicate as you. Not to mention, you valued an honesty he couldn’t provide, and a stable relationship would require it…not that he was intending on pursuing that with you. Right?

Sighing wearily, he pinched the bridge of his nose, heart pummeling his ribcage. You deserved to know the truth about who he was and what he’d done, but Frank wasn’t sure he possessed the courage to break that news to you, to risk losing you forever.

Shifting uneasily on the fraying wicker chair, Frank studied a chip in the faux wood of the table he was seated at. Rubbing a thumb over the exposed plastic, he pondered his next move. His short recon session had verified Madani’s hunch that the arms dealers operated after dark, like most criminals, but sitting around the dingy motel room until then was a one-way ticket to insanity.

As if his body was pitying his moment of unprecedented indecision, his stomach growled ferociously. Fuck, he could use a decent meal and a hot cup of coffee. Plucking his keys and handgun from the nightstand, he shoved his arms into a black canvas jacket before braving the outside world.

Digging your glove-covered fingers into the laminated dough, you folded it over itself a few times before placing it back in its designated proofing bin to rise. Taking another lump of the yeasted mixture into your grasp, you savored the pleasant cushiony feeling beneath your hands as you worked, the slightly fermented smell of raw bread swirling around the kitchen as you flipped the mass.

Your heart thumped serenely as you kneaded the dough at a steady pace, creating a beautiful rhythm you were more than familiar with. It was music, of a sort; the pulse in your ears acting as the bass while the cacophony of rattling spice jars and cracking eggshells composed unique melodies unlike anything else.

Life was complicated, but food was simple. Customizing pastries and generating new recipes was an outlet for any emotion you could dream of. Tugging at the strands of dough helped soothe the tension in your shoulders, a symptom of the intense restlessness you’d been feeling since Frank left. Though his text had confirmed that he was alive, you couldn’t help but wallow in a feeling of gut-wrenching regret as you lived without him. If something happened to him out there, you’d never be able to tell him–

Shaking your head fiercely to clear the anxious thoughts from your mind, you raced to the walk-in, once again pouring your jittery energy into a recipe rather than letting your composure erode into nothing. Stabilizing the precarious tower of ingredients you’d stacked with your chin, you tread cautiously over to a clean station, unceremoniously dumping the contents onto the steel bench before popping your head out to the front.

“Stace, you want somethin’ to eat?” You called to the girl, who was currently standing by the register on her phone.

“What are you making?” She barely lifted her head with the question and her ambivalence made you snort.

“Oh, you know, same old.”

With a small shrug, Stacy nodded. “Sure, why not.”

Grinning, you ducked back into the kitchen and popped the lid off of the industrial blender, quickly whipping up two vibrantly colored and impeccably garnished bowls for the pair of you. Passing a spoon to Stacy, you smiled as she dug in eagerly.

“What, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning?” You giggled, reveling in the way her eyes lit up as she ate.

“Had a feeling you’d be cooking up a storm today.” Stacy replied, tilting her head at you knowingly. “You tend to do that when you’re mopey, and I’m never opposed to a free meal.”

Rolling your eyes, you huffed in defiance. “I’m not ‘mopey’.”

“No?” Your dark-haired friend smirked. “That’s why you’re staring at that stupid bowl like it killed your family?”

Ignoring her pointed look, you angled the bowl slightly differently before pulling out your phone.

“It’s a pretty meal. I wanted to take a picture.” You reasoned, snapping a few photos of the deep violet mixture.

“To send to lover boy?” Stacy snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“No! I mean, maybe, I guess. I mean—“ You spluttered and Stacy laughed boisterously. “Shut up!!” Pouting, you shoved your phone back into the pocket of your apron and stuck a spoon into your breakfast.

“C’mon, princess, don’t let my teasing interrupt your pitiful flirting attempts. I’m sure he wants to hear from you.” Stacy’s expression was nonchalant, as always, but her gaze softened when your shoulders slumped. “I’m serious. He’s like, embarrassingly into you.”

“I think you might be confused about which of us is ‘embarrassingly into’ the other.” You whined, burying your face in your hands.

“Oh you’re pathetically head over heels for him too, that’s why you have no game.”

Scoffing, you shoved at her shoulder. “You know what, I don’t need to be insulted like this. Get out of my kitchen.”

“It’s not insulting, it’s true!” She chuckled, eating the remaining few bites of her food as you struggled to force her out the double doors.

“Out, out, out!” You panted, finally getting her across the threshold.

The whoosh of air from the batwing doors blew stray hairs from your face, giving you pause. Did it matter why you reached out to him? He seemed to appreciate it…

“Fuck it.”

Frank turned the cheap off-white mug in his hands, letting the quickly fading warmth seep through the material and into his palms as he looked out the streaky window. A gray hue had settled over the rural town he was camped out in, courtesy of the building storm on the horizon. The clouds mimicked his mental state, growing darker by the minute as the world remained stagnant.

A low buzz caught his attention, his hand shooting out to stop his phone from vibrating off of the table. Flicking the screen open, his heart swelled with affection, like a ray of sunshine peeking through the barrier in the sky.

You: *image* It’s official, I’m becoming a hipster. I was more concerned about this photo than eating my breakfast.

Not attempting to hide his smile, Frank shoved his empty cup aside to free his thumbs.

Frank: Well, it looks so good, I might have to forgive you. What is it?

You: A smoothie bowl, very easy to make and quite tasty.

Frank: Never had one of those before. Looks good though, sunshine.

You: Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll make you one sometime.

Frank inhaled deeply, imagining that you were nearby and he could smell your soft vanilla soap. The thought of you cooking for him upon his return warmed his heart while simultaneously cracking it in two. He missed you dearly. Drawing his forearms into his chest, he took a picture of his own food, frowning at the grainy quality of the picture as it sent.

Frank: It ain’t as pretty as yours, but I’m eating breakfast myself.

The remnants of a stack of bland pancakes and some tough bacon paled in comparison to the gorgeous, speckled smoothie thing you’d sent him. Why it was in a bowl and not a cup, he wasn’t sure, but clearly you knew what you were doing so who was he to judge? A few seconds passed and Frank briefly wondered if he’d said something wrong. Before he could preemptively apologize, another bubble appeared on the screen.

You: Glad you are able to feed yourself without my help. I was starting to wonder…

Frank: Oh shut up, you goof. I do miss your cooking though.

You: Just my cooking?

His fingers hovered over the glass display, his brain scrambling for a response that didn’t reveal just how gone he was for you. In the end, he couldn’t find one.

Frank: Not just your cooking, honey. I have some work to do, but take care of yourself and Max for me, will you?

You: Of course, Frankie. Have a good day :)

Frank: You too, sunshine.

Clicking the power button on his phone, Frank flipped it over, settling his head against his rough hands and massaging his forehead. Coward.

The shrill ringing of his alarm shattered the remnants of his uneasy slumber. Whipping his arm out from under the sheets, he stopped the piercing noise with a frustrated growl. Sitting up was a process, thanks to the new bullet wounds in his shoulder and hip—a true testament to how sideways yesterday night had gone. Madani’s brief had implied that this would be a cut and dry operation. Get in, confirm the sale, contact her team, leave. He’d been given strict orders to not shoot unless absolutely necessary.

Which was a great plan, in theory. Frank was more than on board with it, even if the whole “no shooting” thing lengthened the process. If it kept him on Madani’s good side, and still managed to get him home before Lisa’s birthday, he could live with it.

Apparently, the rookie member of Madani’s team was not so thrilled with Frank “stealing” so much of the glory. After Frank’s recon session and subsequent confirmation of the sale, the former Marine was about to call for backup when a scrawny 20-something kid darted into the dark warehouse after the arms dealers, holding nothing but a goddamn glock. Anticipating bloodshed, Frank was grumbling and sprinting after him before the gunshots started.

Pulling the kid out by the straps of his ill-fitting bullet-proof vest was a task Frank managed by the skin of his teeth, procuring two moderate injuries in the process. Of course, the knowledge that the FBI was on their tail sent the arms dealers into a frenzy. Frank was sure they’d crossed state lines before Madani was even done screaming. Honestly, he half expected the poor woman to have steam coming out of her ears–she’d cussed at the kid with words even Frank considered impolite.

Not that he could blame her, he was fuming all the same, especially when Madani had explained that he wasn’t off the hook for the mission and should head back to the motel to await further instructions. As if he was reliving it, the conversation that followed played in his head on a loop, their screaming match echoing off the walls of his brain.

“For fuck’s SAKE, Madani, I did what you wanted–why should I be punished for the stupidity of this asshole?”

“Oh, he’ll be dealt with, believe me. But the agreement was to get Roshev and Miller into my custody. Not give my team a half-assed warning and head back to New York scot free.”

“Half-assed–you’re fucking joking. I had to ditch the objective to rescue YOUR DAMN AGENT.”

“Go back to your room, Frank. I won’t ask again.”

“You’re not–”

“That’s an ORDER, Castle.”

So here he was: waking up on a shitty mattress, his skin and hair still streaked with dirt and blood (because the crappy water pressure and freezing temperature had infuriated him to the point that he’d cut his shower short after cleaning his wounds), in pain and in desperate need of a better cup of coffee than anyone around here was capable of brewing.

On top of that, it was his dead daughter’s 18th birthday–a fact that hung over him like a cloud of poisonous gas, slowly squeezing the air from his lungs, and he was powerless to stop it. He wanted to scream, to cry, to grieve for her, to do something, anything–but instead he was fucking stuck here, beneath Madani’s thumb until she tired of him.

It was naive to think that he’d be home today, maybe drinking coffee that you had made specifically for him, bringing flowers to the cemetery, taking Max for a walk, trying to have a quiet day in Lisa’s memory instead of waiting around to deal with two scumbags who got paid to arm other criminals. He should have just shot them.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a rough hand, he stalked to the bathroom to clean up–given that a man covered in blood would probably scare the poor waitress at the diner down the street shitless. As he was rubbing a towel through his hair, his phone buzzed–presumably with a curt message from Madani about something else he’d done wrong. Groaning internally, he braced himself for another argument, but it never came.

Instead, his phone had an unopened message from you. Flicking open the home screen, he felt a weight fall off his shoulders as he pulled up the photo you’d attached.

It was a beautiful picture of you holding a basket of vibrantly colored cherries in the midst of some sort of farmer’s market. Your delicate features were highlighted by an array of pinks and oranges, courtesy of the sunrise in the background. Your smile was bright, your eyes sparkling as you beamed at the camera.

Your first message was a simple explanation of your morning activities.

You: It’s market day! I bought these gorgeous cherries to make some tarts. I’ll save you one ;)

As he was rereading the message, allowing his general irritation to fade as thoughts of you flooded his brain, his phone vibrated again.

You: Thinking of you today. I’m just a text away if you need anything ❤️

Sinking down onto the motel bed, his throat constricted as he processed the sentiment. He was surprised that you remembered today was hard for him, even more so that you offered to be a line of support. But that was exactly who you were, wasn’t it? Someone who cared so deeply for the people around her, and for some fucking reason that included Frank.

Typing and retyping a response to you, Frank blew out a breath. He felt almost…jittery.

Frank: Thanks, sunshine. That means a lot. I’m looking forward to that cherry tart when I get back.

You: I’ll make you as many as you want, Frankie.

Lips twitching, he imagined you whirling around your kitchen in one of your signature patterned dresses making him a special batch of pastries. His heart squeezed painfully; your absence was taking a toll on him that he had not expected. Before he could consider his next message to you, Madani’s number flashed on the screen, indicating an incoming call. Lips curling into a silent snarl, he answered.

“What, Madani?” He rumbled out.

“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine.” Her response wasn’t meant to dig under his skin, she simply meant it as a superficial jab, but the inclusion of the pet name he associated with you ignited a white hot anger in his gut, feral and hungry.

“The fuck do you want,” He bit out.

“Watch your tone, Castle. Remember who owes whom a favor here.”

Rolling his eyes, he brought out a more polite tone. “Yes, ma’am.”

She huffed across the line, “Fuck you too. We found them. I’ll send the coordinates now.”

“Lookin’ forward to it.” He ended the call.

Stretching your legs as best you could beneath the hefty pitbull, you sighed.

It had been hours since Frank’s last text and you were not handling it well–the image of the little typing bubble on his side of the text chain haunting your every moment. Logically, the presence of those three flashing dots just meant he had started to type something and then forgot or had something else to attend to, but that knowledge didn’t quell the anxiety growing in your chest.

He was out there, doing god knows what, on his daughter’s 18th birthday, presumably alone and hurting–and there was nothing you could do but wait. And cook him a lasagna of course. Which you had, giving your apartment the pleasant aroma of onions, tomatoes, and ricotta cheese as the dish baked.

Your consciousness vibrated with the tenacity of an anxious chihuahua, listless with boredom and concern about your sweetheart of a neighbor. Squirming out from under Max’s head, you chuckled as the sleepy pitbull huffed in annoyance. “Sorry, bubba. I need to move around.”

In the final 30 minutes that you lasagna baked, you managed to throw together some simple pastry dough and pull out the small basket of cherries from your fridge. Popping one of the scarlet fruits into your mouth, you began to pluck the remaining stems off before removing their pits. Once they’d been sufficiently prepped, and your hands were adequately smattered with droplets of maroon fruit juice, you dumped them unceremoniously into a pot to create a compote. It didn’t necessarily pair well with lasagna, but you’d promised Frank a cherry pastry.

Originally, you’d considered making him a cherry basil frangipane, identical to the ones you’d stacked in the bakery’s display case that morning. But, after the day he’d probably had, you figured he’d want something…less intricate. The compliment you’d given him during his first visit to the cafe still held true–Frank was simple and honest. He wasn’t difficult to please, but fancy words and expensive ingredients alone wouldn’t cut it. The food had to be good. So, you pulled out all the stops, making a recipe that you hadn’t made since you lived with Leo: cherry turnovers.

Unlike your wonderful neighbor, the majority of patrons in the city needed a reason besides quality to continue giving you business. Elaborately decorated pastries and unique flavor profiles were what kept the cafe in business, so you hadn’t tried selling a modest dessert like these since your first few weeks at the Rainy Day Bakery. It was familiar, comforting even. You hoped it would bring Frank similar satisfaction.

Trading the bubbling lasagna for a tray of triangle-shaped pastries, you brushed your hands on your hips. Re-covering the pasta dish, you hurriedly cleaned your kitchen, wiping away the traces of flour and sugar that inevitably dusted your countertops after you baked. As you rinsed out the mixing bowl, a high-pitched whimper popped the bubble of silence surrounding your apartment. Sitting rigidly by the door to your apartment, Max’s dark eyes pleaded with you.

“Gosh, you’re right, bud! It is dinner time. I’m sorry, I got carried away. Let’s go get you set up, huh?”

Snatching Frank’s spare key from your counter, you attached Max’s thick leash to his collar and jogged him back to his apartment, adding an extra handful of kibble as an apology for making him wait. Stroking his short fur a few times, you slipped the key into your pocket, scurrying back over to your apartment to grab the turnovers before they caught fire and reduced the building to ashes.

Carefully balancing the pastries and lasagna in your hands, you marched back over to Frank’s apartment. Pretty soon, and with only one close call, the food was lined up on Frank’s countertop to cool. Brushing your hands together, you admired your handiwork.

“Please tell me ya haven’t been sittin’ here with the door open all night.”

The gruff voice behind you made you jump in shock. Whirling around, your fear morphed into pure joy as you took in the ruggedly handsome man before you.

“Shit, Frankie! You snuck up on me.” You practically squealed, rushing to hug him in greeting. He grunted as you slammed against him, hissing as you squeezed your arms around his hips. Eyes widening in realization, you started to pull back. “Oh fuck, you’re hurt, aren’t you? I’m so sorry, I–”

Before you could unwrap your arms from his body, his broad hands splayed across your back, muscular arms tugging you back against his firm chest.

“‘M fine, honey.” Came Frank’s soothing rumble. You felt him press a kiss to your crown before he buried his face in your hair. “Missed you like crazy, sunshine.” His voice was soft, as if he didn’t want you to hear the darling confession.

“God, I missed you too, Frankie.” You chuckled, your eyes prickling with tears, your body in awe of your own honesty. With his stubbled chin atop your head and his thick arms around your waist, you felt entirely sheltered by his body. He’d created a bubble of safety and serenity for you, as he always did.

Remaining in his arms, you shifted out from under his head to examine him. Though you’d felt it across your scalp, his beard was noticeably overgrown and in need of a trim. His hair greasy and mussed, streaked with grime, just like his face. The skin of his face was tinged red, with blush or sunburn you weren’t quite sure, and the bags under his eyes were deep. In spite of yourself, your bottom lip stuck out, brow pinching in concern. Bringing a hand up to cradle his face, you stroked a thumb gently over his cheek, careful to avoid the sizeable bruise across it.

“Oh sweetheart. What did they do to you?” You asked quietly, feeling choked up as the hulking man nuzzled into your touch, his eyes falling shut with a weary sigh.

“It’s nothin’.” He murmured, his words worn out—as if he’d spoken them so many times they’d lost all meaning.

“Then it shouldn’t take long to get you cleaned up.” You smiled, the gesture not making it to your eyes. Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a kiss to his prickly cheek before unwinding his arms from your waist. He started to retract his arms, to tuck them against his sides, but you caught his fingers with yours, grasping his hands tenderly. “Come sit, sweetheart. You must be exhausted.”

The poor man didn’t argue. Instead, he let you tug him to the couch and sit him down, his lips twitching with fond amusement when you tucked a blanket around his shoulders. “This ain’t mine.”

You shrugged, the hint of a smirk tugging at your lips. “I redecorated.”

“I was barely gone three days.” Frank snorted, rolling his eyes at you.

Poorly stifling a smile as you pretended to be annoyed, you spoke as though it was obvious why you’d done it. “Your apartment is freezing, Frank. Did you want me and Max to get hypothermia while you were gone?”

He huffed a laugh. “Still bossy.” Letting his head tip back to meet the spine of the couch, his eyes fluttered shut. Your cool touch manifested on his cheek once again.

“Do you have a first aid kit, Frankie?”

“Under the bathroom sink.” He answered, his words slurred ever so slightly with fatigue. He received a slight squeeze of his arm in response, your warm fingers leaving a lasting imprint on his skin.

A year ago, he would never have let himself have this—a moment of peace. Time to let his guard down, to trust someone else to ease his pain. But the combination of his aching body, his heavy eyelids, and your fussing nature had him letting go of a tension he’d held for years, and he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Soft footsteps alerted him to your presence. Though his eyes were closed, he could hear you shuffle into a crouch, your chest positioned at his knees.

Stifling a groan, he straightened his posture, wincing slightly as the motion tugged on his day old stitches. His eyes immediately focused on your adorable form in front of him, your own gaze roaming over the various bruises covering his visible skin. Dipping a washcloth into a small bowl of water, you gently lifted his wrist, washing away the dried blood on his knuckles. As you worked, a small river of dirty water–tinged pink from his scarlet blood–dripped down his fingers and onto your dress.

He watched the trio of droplets fall, time slowing as if to highlight the moment that reignited his anxiety. Splashing across the multicolored fabric, the liquid seeped into your skirt, staining it as you held his hand. Your kindness was endless, and his presence was tarnishing it, ruining it, ruining you.

Jerking his hand backwards, he cradled it close to his chest. “Lemme do this. I’m gettin’ blood on your pretty dress, sunshine.” He started to stand but you shook your head, gently pushing him back into the cushion and taking his hand in your grasp once again.

Looking directly into his eyes with an intensity that you always seemed to carry, your lips curved into a small smile. “Frank, it’s just a dress, sweetheart. I promise it’s ok. Let me help you?” With your free hand, you stroked a wayward strand of his hair off of his clammy forehead.

Despite the fact that your gaze conveyed your desire to continue patching him up regardless of his answer, your tone was stilted–giving him the option to deny your help.

“You’re too sweet for your own damn good, you know.” He sighed, letting his arm go limp in your grip to let you finish what you’d started.

“Well, you’re too stoic for yours. Makes us quite a pair, doesn’t it?” Your eyes glimmered roguishly, your smirk encouraging him to roll his eyes.

“Whatever you say, sunshine.” He snorted, knowing full well that you were right.

You made quick work of tidying up the split skin across his knuckles, moving on to the bruised skin of his cheeks.

“Didn’t know you were growing this out, Frankie.” You quipped, tugging gently on the untamed curls of his beard.

His lips twitched, revealing a glimpse of his teeth as he smiled. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it. Whaddya think?”

Making a great show of shuffling back to study his face, you tapped your chin. “I like it.”

“You do? Last time it was this long, everyone thought I was some sort of hipster.”

Shrugging, you focused your eyes back on the cloth in your hand. “I always like how you look, Frankie.”

Frank’s breath caught in his throat, unable to quite make it to his lungs. Thankfully, he could blame his lack of response on the fact that you were rinsing the injuries on his face, rather than his own lack of emotional intelligence.

Eventually, you heaved out a breath, looking at him with a raised brow. “Did you want me to look at whatever’s bothering you here?” You asked, gesturing to his hip.

“If I told ya I have no idea what you mean, would ya call me on it?” He grumbles, not quite sure how he’d feel revealing that much of himself to you.

You thought for a minute. Nodding once, you answered. “I’d roll my eyes, but respect your desire for privacy.”

Swallowing thickly, he huffed a nervous laugh. “Fair enough.” With two fingers, he tugged his loose shirt up and over his head, not bothering to disguise his grimace as he rotated his injured shoulder. Pulling the waistband of his pants down an inch, he suddenly felt a surge of fear, not sure how you’d react to seeing his array of scars.

Inhaling sharply, you traced around his stitches with a finger. “Oh, Frank.”

“It’s—“

“It’s not nothing.” Taking his hands again, your intensity returned. “You mean something to me. Seeing you hurt…it’s never nothing, ok? Not to me.”

A lump formed in his throat, he nodded as he tried to swallow it down. “Sorry.”

“No apology necessary,” You squeezed his hands, placing a tender kiss on the raw knuckles of his right hand before grabbing a roll of bandages from your pile of supplies. “I’m not upset that you’re hurt. I just don’t want you to be afraid to lean on someone else for a change.”

You dressed his larger wounds in contemplative silence, your soft skin a welcome change to the rough contact he was used to.

“How’d ya learn to patch people up, sunshine? Playin’ nurse for other neighborhood menaces behind my back?”

You giggled. “You’re my only patient currently. Cross my heart. I’ve just gotten used to first aid after injuring myself my whole life.”

Bringing a hand up to cup your cheek, Frank’s brow furrowed. “Injurin’ yourself? What do you mean?”

Eyes widening in realization, you shook your head. “Not intentionally! I’ve just been a klutz for as long as I can remember.” Chuckling sheepishly, you added, “Takes a toll every once in a while.”

Laughing with relief, he traced a finger along your jaw as he withdrew his hand from your face. “Ah, gotcha. Christ, had me scared there, pretty girl.”

Your face flushed with heat at the new pet name. You tied off the fresh bandages and stood up. “You should be good to go, unless you’ve got any other areas that need to be looked at?”

Blushing as his mind traveled to less innocent places, he shook his head. “I’m fine, honey. Thank you. Really.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” You winked at him, heading to the kitchen to dispose of the dirty water and trash. As you rinsed the last of the grime from the bowl you’d used, Frank moaned behind you.

“Holy shit.” His words were mumbled around a mouthful of pastry, the other half of a cherry turnover in his hand. Swallowing with another horrifically attractive noise, he lifted the dessert in a gesture. “Did you make these?”

“Yes, but they were for after dinner!” You scolded, your smile completely betraying your feigned annoyance. “Cherry turnovers. Do you like them?”

“No, they’re awful.” Frank deadpanned, shoving the rest of the pastry into his mouth ungracefully. You giggled, uncovering the lasagna before he could reach for another turnover.

“Would you like some actual food, you heathen?” You asked through stray laughs.

“You made me a lasagna?”

“Thought you might want some comfort food today. So I made two of my favorites.”

“Thank you,” Frank spoke your name gravely, as if it was a prayer. “God, sunshine, I dunno what to say.” Your heart ached as his voice cracked around the words.

“You don’t need to say anything, handsome. Just eat, so you can rest soon, yah?”

Frank couldn’t help but let the tension he’d been carrying for days roll off his back like droplets of water, his eyes crinkling with fondness as you puttered around his kitchen as if you had it memorized. You plated two hearty servings of lasagna and took a seat next to him, handing him a fork.

“I’m glad you made it back safely.” You smiled, your gaze more timid than he’d ever seen it.

“Me too, sunshine.” After placing a kiss on your forehead, he speared the fork into the food on his plate, taking a massive bite.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Frank groaned, beaming at you.

Laughing brightly, you took a bite of your own, overjoyed to have Frank to eat with again.

Thanks for reading! As always, comments and reblogs are incredibly appreciated.

Taglist: @cheshirecat484@xxdrix@smhnxdiii@mattmurdocksstarlight@danzer8705

#frank castle #my writing #marvel #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #frank castle imagine #frank castle angst #netflix the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #jon bernthal #fc #gray skies

50 notes · View notes