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cupid-styles · 3 months

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late night talking 2

here is the long awaited part two to late night talking (aka cam girl!yn and nerdrry)!!!! I v much hope you guys like this part as much as you liked the first :)))) enjoy!

read part one here

word count: 7.5k

content warnings: smut (oral - f receiving, fingering, dirty talk, riding, mentions of squirting, size kink, daddy kink, mentions of sex toys and bondage, minor edging)

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masterlist | talk to me

. . .

If Harry were to describe the joy he feels when listening to Y/N discuss her day with him over the phone, he's sure he would never shut up.

At first, he'd been nervous about what they would talk about. Did she expect them to have dirty, filth-filled conversations? What if she charged him for it? Harry would undoubtedly shell out the money, too embarrassed to explain he had different expectations, but it's not what he wanted — not by a long-shot.

Admittedly, the first five or 10 minutes had been rocky. After chatting exclusively through direct messaging on Y/N's cam site, it was a little difficult to get used to transferring those conversations to the phone. She was used to relying on witty jokes with emojis, he was accustomed to having more time to thoughtfully write out responses. Talking one-on-one limited both of those things, ridding them of their comfort blankets. But once the ice melted, names were exchanged, and Y/N's breathy giggle sounded through the receiver, Harry was a goner.

"Wait, so how is it that we live in the same city?" Harry questions as he pulls at a loose thread on one of the throw pillows on his couch. "The odds of that are like... slim to none."

"Well, you'd know, you have a degree in computer science," Y/N replies teasingly. "I'm pretty sure the homepage tries to cater to your location. It's kind of weird and freaky if you think about it for too long."

"That's... kind of horrifying."

She hums, "I know. But if I hide my feed from the homepage, I'd have to solely rely on my regulars."

Harry doesn't want to be a dick so he doesn't say anything in response, but he wishes she could. He despises the fact that there are local creeps watching her every night, even if that includes him. Quickly, he tries to shove down his possessive nature, knowing he doesn't quite have anything to be jealous of — she's her own person.

"Don't worry, I have a baseball bat by the door." she jokes, but it doesn't land the way she intends. Her mouth twists into a wince when Harry remains silent on the other side.

"Just want you to be safe, hm?" he says gently, "I know you can take care of yourself, but... you know what I mean, don't you?"

"Are you trying to say that you care about me?"

He huffs, a surprised puff of air leaving his lungs.

"Yes," he finally forces out, anxiety beginning to claw at his insides, "Of course I do."

A beat. The nerves have grown nasty fangs and nails, but then—

"I care about you, too."

Harry has to squeeze the pillow so a girlish squeak doesn't escape his mouth.

. . .

From: Y/N🎀

my boss made me stay late today so I don't think ill make it home for our 6 pm phone call :( can I call you later?

Harry tries not to pout as his eyes scan over Y/N's text for a second time. Ever since their initial phone call a few weeks ago, they unintentionally set up a daily schedule where they'd chat as soon as she got home from work. Usually, they spoke up until she started her stream, but she took Fridays off since there weren't as many people logging on to watch. All day, he had been looking forward to getting her for a few hours without any interruptions.

(She often keeps him on the phone as she eats dinner or picks out a lacy set of lingerie. The latter makes him feel special, like he has some sort of behind-the-scenes look of what happens prior to her logging on. It also happens to thicken up his cock a fair amount.)

To: Y/N🎀

I'm sorry he's doing that to you on a Friday. You're right, he's a dick.

Call me whenever you're able. I'll be around.

In an ideal world, maybe Harry could pick them up some dinner and he could meet her at the office, so she could eat while she finished work. Or, he could even take her out to a nice restaurant after — but beyond the very obvious restrictions of their relationship (or maybe it was just a friendship with virtual benefits?), Harry was deeply insecure. They were both lonely people, he knew, and they were simply reaping the benefits until someone better came along for her.

His phone buzzes, ripping him from his self-deprecating thoughts: thank you<3 you're the sweetest, staying in on a friday just so you can talk to little old me!!! x

A snort leaves him. He can't remember the last time he had actual social plans that involved leaving the house on the weekend. Friday nights were almost always reserved for playing video games with his friends, baking a new recipe he found on Pinterest, or, that one time where he tried to teach himself how to knit a little sweater for Beatrice.

(It went terribly and Beatrice ended up having more fun with the ball of yarn anyway.)

The thing is, Harry knows he's a nerd. He's pretty much the picture of a dorky, grown-up introvert, with his thick-rimmed glasses, computer engineering job, cat, and pathetically lonely social life. How on earth could Y/N not see that?

(Maybe she does, and she's just taking advantage of him. He doesn't foresee that being a possibility, but his anxious insecurities take him there every now and then.)

He spends his time moseying around his apartment while he waits for her to get home. By the time he's done baking espresso brownies and tidying up the kitchen, making sure to place the tray high enough so Beatrice can't get into them, he hears his phone vibrating on the countertop. A jolt of energy and happiness zips through him when he sees her name splayed across his screen, immediately pressing answer and putting her on speaker.

"Hiiii," she sings into the receiver, and he can already tell she's traipsing around her own home, "You picked up fast."

"Told you I'd be around whenever you wanted to talk."

"You're too good to me," she says, though he has to lower the phone the second he hears noisy crunching on the other line, "Sorry, I literally just got in. I'm eating Cheetos for dinner."

"I thought you were gonna order in from that new stir fry place," Harry replies, thinking back to her mulling over the idea last night.

"I was, but then I had to work until 7 pm, which meant I didn't get home until... what time is it? Oh, it's already 8:15! There goes my entire Friday night!"

He smiles gently at her dramatics, though he understands. "You can still order, babe. They don't close until 10."

"But I just opened this bag of Cheetos."

He resists the urge to roll his eyes. "You can use one of those handy clips to close it so they don't go stale."

"I don't have any of those."

Harry shakes his head as his eyes scan over the small bowl of them on his kitchen countertop.

"Put the Cheetos down, Y/N. Order the stir fry. You deserve it."

A sigh passes through her lips. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. You had the longest week and you just had to work after hours on a Friday."

"Alright, fine."

He hears the light tapping of her fingers against the phone screen, which only leads him to believe that she's actually doing what he's requested of her for once. He busies himself with cozying up on the couch, throwing a blanket over his lap as Beatrice jumps up onto the cushion next to him.

"Okay, done," she says a few moments later. "So, speaking of deserving things. I got you something."

"You got me something?" Harry asks with furrowed brows.

"Mhmm. I saw it online and wanted you to have it— well, it's for both of us, actually, but that's besides the fact. Anyway, I need your address so I can send it to you."

Harry's brain begins to glow with possibilities, completely unsure of what she could possibly have gotten him.

"Is this just an excuse to stalk me?" he jokes, making her snort.

"No, Harry. Send me your address, please. It's a present."

He quickly removes the phone from his ear, pressing the speaker button and opening up their text thread.

"Fine, I'm sending it to you now," he murmurs, typing out his address, "But it better not be something weird."

Y/N snorts and for a moment, it's quiet. Harry's used to silent lulls in their conversations, especially because they'll sometimes be on the phone together for hours. He occupies himself with gently petting Beatrice's coat, making a mental note to brush her orange fur out after they hang up tonight.

"Harry?"

Y/N's voice rings softly through the receiver. Focused on scratching the top of Beatrice's head, he lets out a distracted hum, assuming she's just making sure he's still there.

"We live 10 minutes from each other."

It takes him a moment to digest what she's just told him. At first, he thinks it's a joke. There's no way the girl he's been watching every night for the past few months lives so close to him. But when she doesn't follow it up with a "just kidding!", he realizes she may be telling the truth.

"What?" he finally chokes out, his posture straightening slightly. Could they have run into each other without evening noticing it? Passing by one another on a busy street, Y/N walking home from work while Harry stops at the grocery store?

"Yeah," she breathes out in disbelief, "You live on Beekman, right? I'm three streets over."

"This is insane," he blurts out. "You're not messing with me?"

"I wouldn't do that."

Harry's unsure if the conversation has taken a turn of shock or tension. There's an obvious question lingering between them, but he's too scared to bring it up. He's too scared to even think about it.

Meeting in person... it seemed like something they'd never get close to doing. Harry was never positive about where their dynamic would lead, but in the back of his head, he did fret about the lack of endgame. He assumed she would get bored of him one day — why wouldn't she, when she's this gorgeous, fun, care-free person, and he's the complete opposite?

"Are you okay?"

Her question rips him from his cycling thoughts. Beatrice climbs into his lap, absorbing the anxiety radiating from his chest. He clears his throat.

"Yeah. Sorry. I'm just... that's crazy."

"It is," she agrees. "I guess... well, if you're comfortable with it, maybe I could bring you your gift sometime. Instead of mailing it."

Harry and Y/N both know that this discussion is no longer about whatever thing she bought with him in mind. It's a proposal — a leap of faith that she's leaving in Harry's court, allowing him to call the shots. It's a terrifying place to be.

"Would you want that?" he asks breathily, nibbling on his bottom lip.

"I would," she replies almost instantly. "But only if you want that."

She's making the jump, and she's doing it whether he's ballsy enough or not. If he says no, she'll continue living her life as the happy-go-lucky person she is. It's scary — it's so, so scary for him, because for once, he doesn't know how things will end up. He can't calculate the answer. He can't premeditate or plan it out.

But maybe she's worth it. So he jumps, too.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

. . .

Y/N thinks she may throw up.

She's contemplated every excuse to get out of tonight — not because she doesn't want to meet Harry, but because she's never, ever done this before. It's entirely out of her comfort zone, understandably. Was she being insane, meeting up with one of her subscribers? She doesn't think Harry gives off serial killer vibes, and he's more than just someone subscribed to her stream, but was it possible that he would put in months of work, talking to her on the phone every day and listening to her chatter on and on about her day, just to do something awful?

What if he expected... more? From her, not just physically, but as a person, too. They still haven't revealed their faces to one another, so she knows tonight is bound to be a lot. Which brings her back to her previous point: Was there an excuse she could blurt out to cancel?

She thinks about it all day, barely getting any work done. Though she and Harry typically exchange far more texts during the day, the tension and nervousness between them both is apparent. He messaged her good morning and they spoke a bit when she got to work, but neither of them seemed as talkative as usual.

Finally, when it's time to head home, she's somewhat relying on Sam to ask her to stay back and work later — but of course, the one day that she wants him to, he left early, calling an end to his day hours ago. With a grumble, Y/N begins the short trek back to her place.

Last night, when she was apparently much higher on courage, she and Harry had decided that 7 would be a good time to meet up. He offered to go to hers if it made it more comfortable, or even getting dinner or something in public. Y/N appreciated it, but she didn't find it necessary — she wanted to be able to leave at a moment's notice if she needed to, plus, on the bright side, she really wanted to meet his cat, Beatrice.

When she gets home, she has 30 minutes before she has to be over at his. She decides to change her outfit, nitpicking at her wardrobe and figuring out what's the best way to say, "I've really enjoyed our virtual conversations over the past few months and I have a crush on you, but maybe not because we've never met before. Also, if you could just forget how we *technically* met so we could attempt to have a real shot at a relationship, maybe, that could be cool."

Sighing, she lays back against her bed. This is crazy, right?

This has to be crazy.

. . .

Harry thinks he may have lost any and all inklings of sanity.

"Beatrice, is this crazy?" he wonders aloud to his snuggly cat. She's currently tucked into her favorite corner of the couch, nuzzling the pink sherpa blanket his mom bought him for Christmas last year.

He logged off from work an hour early today to give him some time to clean up his apartment, wanting to make sure it was spotless for Y/N. They halfway decided that they'd eat dinner together, but he wasn't sure if she had any dietary preferences or allergies, so he figured getting take-out from the local Chinese place they both like would be the best option. (How awful would that be, if he tried to cook her a romantic meal and instead gave her an allergic reaction? Harry shudders at the mere thought of it.)

He spends far too long standing in front of his closet with a sleepy Beatrice in his arms, trying to figure out the best outfit to wear. Typically, he's in a pair of sweats or athletic shorts at this time, but that felt too casual.

"What about these?" he asks Beatrice, grabbing a pair of his favorite mustard yellow trousers. "You're right, they're too much. We want to appear cool. Right?"

She simply meows in response.

He hands are shaking when his phone dings, signifying an incoming text from Y/N: on my way!! see you soon :). He lets out a nervous yelp, pulling at his hair as he throws himself into his closet. Based on what she told him last night about living close by, she'll be here in around 10 minutes, so he settles on a cozy sweatshirt and a pair of loose fitting jeans.

That'll be fine, right?

God, he needs to find someone else to talk to besides himself and his cat.

He's pulling on a pair of his favorite wool socks, haphazardly jogging between the bathroom and his room to finish getting ready. He applies an extra coat of deodorant (just in case!), spritzes on some cologne (his sister got it for him a few years back, she said it seemed like 'his scent', whatever that meant), and runs a hand through his messy curls, trying to make his hair look sort of styled. To this day, he's not really sure how to style it, instead just letting it air dry every time he showers.

His eye catches the time as he traipses back downstairs. It's 6:58. He wonders if she'll be early or late. What if she doesn't come at all? What if she just decides to stand him up, because... because this is insane. This is insane behavior.

And then... his phone dings.

here i think!! sorry im really bad w directions and I walked here lol

. . .

Every single part of her anxious brain is telling Y/N to turn around and go back home. This a terrible idea, she frets, picking at her nails and swallowing tightly, Turn around. Turn around, turn around, turn around—

"Y/N?"

Her head snaps up. In complete honesty, she assumed she was standing in front of the wrong townhouse — she really is bad with directions, so she's slightly shocked when the door in front of her opens, revealing a very attractive man.

"Harry...?" Y/N asks, testing out the way it feels to call him his name in person. With a slightly bashful facial expression, he nods.

"Do you— did you want to come in?"

She nods, suddenly feeling how cold the evening is. The later hour brought a chill to the air, one that feels like it has a promise of snow. She hopes she's wrong since she really doesn't want to walk home in freezing temperatures, but thoughts of the weather are ripped from her mind the second Harry politely guides her in.

She toes her boots off at the entryway, gently placing them next to his own pair of Adidas sneakers. She can feel him behind her, only because the front hall is too small for someone to pass by — but if she's being honest, she doesn't think she minds his hovering warmth. All she wants to do is turn around and analyze him.

She doesn't know what to do — she's being awkward, they both are — so she turns around, not wanting to just welcome herself into his home.

It turns out, he's far closer than she had originally anticipated. Nearly bumping into his chest, she gasps in surprise, lifting a hand to her heart like she's an actress in a bad scary movie. It makes Harry chuckle breathily, melting the ice ever so slightly.

"You alright?" he asks, "Sorry, it's a bit small in here. It's just me and Beatrice, so I don't need much room."

"Beatrice!" Y/N remembers with wide eyes. "Where is she?"

Harry hums, taking the opportunity to brush past Y/N. She swallows, inhaling his spicy vanilla scent in his wake. It sends an involuntary shiver down her spine as she follows him to the living room.

"Here she is," he coos, scooping her up from the floor and into his arms. Y/N's heart warms at the sight of a tall, attractive man holding a sweet kitten. "She's been very lethargic all day. Think she likes the winter just 'cos she gets more snuggles out of it."

"'s cute," she mumbles, biting her lip. Her eyes flicker to Harry's face. She seems to be more enamored by his appearance than hers. She wasn't expecting him by any means to fall to his knees and praise her for her beauty, and supposes it makes sense considering he's seen far more of her than she's seen of him. She's somewhat lost in those thoughts when she accidentally blurts the words out, her eyes going wide:

"You're cute."

Harry glances up, his cheeks glowing a pink hue almost immediately. "Sorry?"

Well, can't back down now, she thinks to herself. Swallowing, she forces her mouth to form around the words again. "You're cute," she repeats. "Sorry. That just kind of came out. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, this is just.... y'know, the first time I'm seeing you."

He clears his throat and bites his bottom lip, almost as if he's trying to hide a smile creeping at the edges of his lips.

"I think you're beautiful," he says softly, and the compliment makes her heart glow in her chest, "I didn't want to mention anything about appearances, 'cos I know maybe you were expecting someone different, but—"

"What do you mean?" she asks with furrowed brows. "I didn't have any expectations."

"Well, that's good. I guess I just wasn't sure if you were anticipating someone... else."

It takes a second for the words to click in her brain. Then, with a wrinkle between her eyebrows, she reaches out to lightly grasp at his elbow, willing his attention to shift from Beatrice to her.

"Harry, do you not find yourself attractive?"

It's a loaded question for any other first-time-meet-up, but at this point in their relationship, they've divulged a ton of information. She doesn't necessarily feel like much is off limits anymore.

Harry shrugs, mentally weighing his answer. "I mean, I think I'm just... fine."

"Fine?" Y/N repeats. "I'm not bullshitting you and I'm sorry if this makes you feel weird, but you're one of the most attractive men I've ever met."

He scoffs, allowing Beatrice to jump out of his arms. She leaps down to the floor, as if she's also feeling the intensity of the conversation and wants to be as far away from it as possible. With his hands now free, he sits down on the edge of his blue L-shaped couch, Y/N following suit. She sits across from him, watching as he wrings his hands together in his lap.

"I feel like that's probably a lie, you—"

"I told you I'm not bullshitting you."

Her response makes him laugh softly. "Yeah, but your whole career is based on, like... being attractive. I mean, look at you — you've definitely met more good looking people than me."

"Do you think I often meet up with people I meet from my streams?" Y/N asks, tilting her head to the side with a mocking smile. He knows she doesn't, because they discussed this multiple times before. "I don't know anyone in real life. Not from there, at least. You're the only one."

Harry shrugs his shoulders. "I guess it's just a little surprising."

"There's nothing to be surprised about," she reassures him gently. In an act of courage, she doesn't think much before her hand lands on his knee, giving it a light squeeze. "I want to be here. With you. I care about you."

A smile curls at the edges of his lips.

"So," she says, leaning back against the plushy cushions of his couch, "What were you thinking for dinner?"

. . .

Once the awkward tension melts between the two, it's as if they've known each other forever.

They order food and talk about everything and anything while Friends plays quietly in the background. Secretly, Y/N is over the moon — she never could have imagined things going this well between them.

It's only when she yawns loudly, feeling exhaustion begin to seep into her bones that she realizes how late it is. When she glances at her phone to check the time, her eyes bulge.

"Harry! It's 1 am, you should've kicked me out ages ago!" she exclaims, sitting up. With furrowed brows and puffy, sleepy eyes, he turns to look at her.

"Didn't even realize it was that late," he mumbles, suppressing a yawn of his own. "By the way, I would never kick you out."

She shakes her head with a small smile and rises from the couch. "C'mon, walk me out."

He nods and follows her out of the living room, back down to the hallway where she left her coat and shoes. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leans his hip against the wall, watching as she gets ready to leave. He wishes there was a way he could ask her to stay.

"Text me when you get home, alright?" he says lowly. Once she fits her boots over her feet, she straightens, nodding her head.

"I will," she murmurs. She can't help it when her eyes quickly flit down to his lips, a zip of anxiety firing through her chest. She so badly wants to kiss him. And, as if they're both elongating their goodbyes, he clears his throat before toeing his own shoes on.

"I'll walk you to your car."

"Oh, I walked here," she replies, stuffing her arms into her navy puffer jacket.

Harry furrows his eyebrows. "You walked?"

"Yeah, of course. We're only, like, 10 minutes away from each other, you know."

"Babe..." Harry sighs, the pet name nearly making her drool, "Didn't you see there's a huge snowstorm slated for tonight? They predicted a few inches by midnight."

Y/N's eyes widen. "Really?"

He laughs lightly before nodding his head. He gingerly wraps his hand around the doorknob to the front door, pulling it open just enough to where Y/N can see massive snowflakes falling from puffy clouds above. It's freezing, a cold chill making her shudder just from the quick peek outside.

"Fuck." she mutters, pulling her jacket closer to her body.

"Stay," he blurts out, glancing down at her shorter stature. "I... you can sleep in my bed and I'll sleep down here. I just don't want you going out in that. It's late."

The nerves are apparent in his shaky voice, but nonetheless, Y/N's nodding her head before he even finishes what he's saying.

"Okay." she breathes. "Can I borrow some pajamas?"

"Yeah, of course."

She follows him up to his bedroom, where he pulls a pair of sweatpants and a vintage tee-shirt out from his dresser. The room is clean, unsurprisingly so — if she's learned anything about Harry tonight, it's that he takes good care of his space, which she considers to be a great trait. His bed is made, his nightstand free from dust and only donning one of those fancy sunrise alarm clocks and a reusable water bottle.

He hands them to her, "I'll give you some privacy."

She nods with a small smile, murmuring out a thank you. Once he shuts the door behind him, she quickly sheds her own clothing and folds it neatly before pulling on his clothes. A moment or so later, he knocks politely, waiting for her to let him know if it's okay to come in.

"You're good," she calls out. He twists the doorknob open and stands in the entryway with a spare pillow and blanket tucked beneath his arm.

"I'm gonna change and head downstairs, but let me know if you need anything."

They stand there, looking at one another as if they're waiting for the other to say what's on both of their minds. When the silence remains, he flashes her a tight smile and turns around.

"Wait!" she exclaims, mentally cringing at the high-pitched tone of her voice. "Will you stay for a bit?"

Harry's shoulders visibly deflate. Once again, he bites his lip, as if he's trying to hide a smile.

"Yeah. I can stay."

They move silently but it's like they've performed this dance a million times before. She watches as he peels back the blankets on his bed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He turns the light off before smoothing over the cotton sheets, as if he's making sure they're suitable for her to lay in.

"Lemme just throw some sweats on," he mumbles, striding over to his dresser, "Get comfortable, okay?"

He excuses himself to the bathroom, where he slowly undresses himself and pulls on a cozy pair of sweatpants. He typically sleeps naked or just in a pair of briefs, but he would never even dream of doing anything remotely like that with Y/N in his bed.

Fuck. Y/N's in his bed.

He swallows tightly and tries to ward off the anxiety bubbling in his chest, taking time to wash his face and brush his teeth. When he's elongated the process enough, he returns to the bedroom to find her laying down and curled up in his blankets. It's almost as if she knew what side Harry typically sleeps on, opting for the one that's always empty.

"Are you comfortable?" Harry asks quietly as he moves through the dark, dumping his clothes from today in the hamper. She hums softly, a pretty sound that makes his length jump in his sweatpants.

"Your bed is nice." she murmurs. He chuckles and gets in next to her, leaving enough space between them so he doesn't crowd her space.

"I'm glad you think so. Want you to sleep well tonight."

Despite the exhaustion permeating from both of their bodies, Y/N finds it difficult to get completely comfortable, to the point where she could fall asleep. She can't help the excitement buzzing in her bones from being next to Harry — her fleetwoodlondon tipper.

"Are you still awake?" she whispers.

He doesn't answer immediately, which leads her to believe he's already fallen asleep. But then, he shifts onto his side, tucking his hands beneath his cheek to face her. "Mhm. What's wrong?"

She shrugs. "Nothing. Just not sleepy enough yet."

"Do you want me to talk to you about computer engineering? That'll knock you out in seconds."

She giggles, flipping onto her side and mimicking his position. She nibbles on her bottom lip as she assesses his features in the darkness of his bedroom — the slope of his nose, his two slightly overlapped front teeth, the dull sharpness of his cheekbones.

"No, but you can talk to me about other stuff."

"Hmm," he says, placing his hand down against the mattress between them. Instinctively, she reaches out to intertwine their fingers together. His heart speeds up. "What was that gift you were supposed to give me tonight?"

Her cheeks redden and she's grateful he can't see the nervousness that pops up on her face.

"It's not important." she rushes out.

"That's not an answer," he sing-songs, giving her hand a squeeze, "C'mon, tell me."

"It's embarrassing now."

He quirks an eyebrow. "Embarrassing?"

She nods.

"How so?"

"Well... it was more so for when we didn't know we lived close to each other. Before we decided to meet in person."

"Okay...?"

"I got us Bluetooth sex toys." she blurts out with a warm face. The heat from her shame travels down the length of her body, making her sweat beneath his gaze. "Um, I got a cock ring for you and a vibrator for me. So we could control them for each other. I bough them the day after you, um, told me what to do on my stream. It's stupid now, and I'm sorry if that's crossing a huge boundary since I know we haven't done anything like that in a month, so maybe you've changed your mind—"

"I haven't changed my mind." he cuts her off. "I still watch every one of your streams."

She swallows harshly. "Really?"

"I never miss one," he admits. "And the fact that you thought of me like that and... got us those is... it's really hot, Y/N."

Her core throbs. It's the first time she's heard him talk like this not over text or private messaging. She squeezes her thighs together as she bites on her bottom lip, attempting to slow her breathing to a normal pace.

"You think so?" she breathes.

"Yeah."

Even without a single light on in his bedroom, she can feel his intense gaze on her. Unhurriedly, she moves her leg closer to his, wiggling it to fit between his thighs. He welcomes her touch without a word.

"I really liked when you dominated me that night," she whispers. Perhaps it's a confession that doesn't need to be verbalized — he knows she adored it not only because she asked for it, but because she came in record time, too. Since that evening, he hasn't stopped thinking how he watched her hole clench around her fingers because of him. She moaned his name — or rather, his honorific — over and over again. Every time he's gone to jerk off without watching her stream, it's all he's needed to think about, blurts of cum spraying his stomach not a few minutes later.

"I liked doing it." he murmurs. She begins to move her foot up and down the length of his calf, the feeling of her soft skin making him shiver.

"What else did you like?"

The tip of his tongue peeks out to lick over his lips. What a loaded question — he likes just about everything she does, but that was a guaranteed cop-out of an answer.

"I liked hearing you call me daddy," he confesses lowly. "Liked watching you. Thought about you bouncing on my cock and finishing that way."

She hums, closing the distance between them without even realizing it. Their chests are pressed up against each other's, her puffy nipples now stiff peaks beneath the soft fabric of his tee-shirt. He can feel himself thickening up steadily, though he's sure he would've gotten hard just by sleeping next to her.

"I think I would let you do just about anything you want to me," she admits, nibbling on her bottom lip, "You turn me on so much... I don't even think you realize it."

He huffs in disbelief, snaking an arm around her waist to gently tug her impossibly closer. He gives her hip a small squeeze as a test — he's been thinking about throwing her around like a doll for months on end, but her comfort is his top priority, always.

"What does 'anything' entail?" he asks. He knows he's asking for trouble now, that there's no returning from this. There's no way that this night won't end with him balls deep inside of her, thrusting his cum into her pussy until she's squealing and pushing him away from overstimulation.

"Well, for starters, you can take me however you want," she says, trailing soft fingertips down his chest. She stops at his abs and he breathes in sharply, willing her to continue her journey downwards. "From behind, me on top... wherever and whenever you want. Don't care if we're in public, either. I'd love to show you off and make sure everyone knows I cum for you."

He groans, head tilting back slightly from her possessive words. "More," he demands gruffly.

"Want you to use all my toys on me... tie me up, press a vibrator to my clit until I can't see straight anymore," her fingers meet his hips, lightly feeling over his cock underneath his sweatpants. "Have you watched the shows where I squirt?"

"Of course I have, pretty baby."

Her chest warms at the nickname. As if it's a reward, her hand dips beneath his sweatpants, gasping in mock surprise when she finds that he's not wearing underwear. Better yet, he's hard and aching for her.

"I have no doubt that I'd squirt for you."

She punctuates her sentence by wrapping her hand around the base of his cock, giving it a cursory squeeze. A short, low groan sounds from his chest before he's grabbing her arm and giving her a sharp look. Alarmed, she quickly removes her hand.

"I'm sorry. Was that too much? Did I misunderstand?"

"Not at all," he mutters, getting up onto his knees. His other hand finds her free wrist, raising both of her arms above her head. She gasps out in surprise. "I just think it's cute that you think after watching you get off for months, you think I wouldn't want first dibs on this pussy."

Y/N giggles, relief flushing through her chest at the knowledge that she didn't do anything wrong. Keeping her arms propped up with one of his large hands, he uses the other to tug her sweatpants down. Just like him, she's decided to go underwear-free this evening.

"You're glistening already. Dripping down to your cute little ass."

His words make her swallow harshly. She knew from that one conversation that he was an expert at dirty talk, but hearing it in person was an entirely different game. One that she surely would never forget.

He uses two of his fingertips to spread her labia, breathing out fiercely at the sight of the strings of arousal. With his fingers in a v-shape, he watches as the pretty ribbons snap each time he moves his digits up and down, issuing a light massage to the skin between her lips and thighs.

"You're so much prettier in person." he murmurs. "I've watched you cum so many times, but... nothing compares to the real thing. You know that, pretty baby?"

A pathetic whimper falls from her swollen lips. "Stop teasing, daddy."

His heart thuds at the name. It's a weak spot, especially hearing it come from her. Watching her hole pulsate around nothing, he decides he wants — no, needs — nothing more than to lean forward and wrap his lips around her pearled clit. Her taste is heady and delicious and he's instantly hooked, especially when she curls her leg around his shoulder, pressing her heel into his back to pull him closer. She moans loudly as he sucks messily, his eyes rolling back when he feels the swollen bundle throb in his mouth.

"So good," she whines, "'s so good daddy, fuck."

He can tell that she needs minimal prep, but his suspicion is only proven right when he pushes a finger inside, her hole immediately sucking him in. He prods at her g-spot, eliciting another mewl from her pretty mouth. He thinks he could cum just from this — from sucking at her clit and fingering her deep inside, feeling her thrash around beneath him as her orgasm builds.

"Fuck— wait, wait," she pants out. Harry instantly stops, removing his hands and mouth from her. He looks up with concerned eyes and she smiles a hazy, gentle grin, pushing her hand through his messy hair. "Can you edge me? I wanna cum on your cock, daddy."

He thinks he may faint on the spot.

"Whatever you want, pretty."

She laughs breezily when he surges forward once more, nudging the tip of his tongue into her wet hole. She gasps as he thrusts it in and out, lifting his free hand to rub circles into her sensitive clit. The sensation of her pussy clenching around the width of his tongue is almost too much to handle for both of them.

He waits for her to tell him when she's almost at the edge, but it doesn't take much more. Soon enough, she's panting and pushing him away, whimpering out that she's nearly there.

"Can I ride you, please?" she nearly begs, her eyes widened and watery, "Please, need to feel you deep inside."

He chuckles at her desperation, sitting up on his heels to thumb at her bottom lip. He pulls it and lets snap back.

"Only if you give me a kiss, baby."

She scrambles onto her knees, billowing forward to press her lips messily to his. It's wet and hot, especially with the heady taste of her arousal on his tongue. He groans when she begins to suck at it, overwhelmed by her enthusiasm as he gives her hip a squeeze. When he breaks their kiss, he presses a quick one to her nose before maneuvering her body so she's straddling his waist. She rolls her hips urgently, his cock spreading her labia deliciously. It's a gorgeous sight — one Harry never wants to forget.

"Put me in." he instructs, folding his hands behind his head.

With shaky hands, she lifts up slightly, granting herself just enough room so she can lower onto his length. The second the tip pops through her tight walls, they're both moaning loudly, her eyes fluttering shut. Harry forces his to stay open so he can memorize the way she looks taking him for the first time.

"Take your time," he murmurs, breaking his dominant persona for a moment, "Don't force yourself, pretty baby. Give yourself a second."

"I can take it," she pouts, grinding down against his pelvic bone. She whimpers, her hand flying to her stomach. "Fuck— fuck, I can feel you in here, daddy."

"Told you, silly girl," he says with a smirk, his hands finding her hips with a squeeze. "Take your time. Don't need you getting hurt."

This time, she listens to him and allows herself a few moments to adjust. Once it doesn't feel like he's punching through to her cervix, she bounces once in experimentation, just to make sure she can really, truly take it.

"Why didn't you ever mention— oh— that you're fucking massive?" she whimpers out as she begins to bounce up and down. He laughs, though it quickly gets cut short when he begins to properly feel the tightness of her pussy.

"Guess it never came up." he mutters through gritted teeth.

His hands remaining on her hips, he helps her maintain her rhythm. He swallows harshly as he watches her breasts jiggle in time with her dropping up and down, never once allowing his cock to shift.

"'m gonna cum soon," she babbles out. As if on cue, Harry feels her hole pulsating around his length, making his eyes roll back.

"Show me," he demands, steadying her hips with his hands. He starts to thrust up into her, watching as her jaw falls slack from the slight but sudden switch in position. "There you go, baby. Take daddy's cock like you were made for it. Cum all over me."

He never doubted it, but god she's good at taking directions. Within a few seconds, she's clenching and coming all over his cock, whiney mewls falling from her lips as her orgasm washes over her. She moans out his honorific repeatedly, just like she did all those months ago. The sight and sound of her sopping wet pussy sucking in his length is enough to send him to his own peak, abs clenching as he fucks up into her, filling her to the brim with his warm come.

"Fuck, take it pretty girl, there you go," he groans loudly.

When each of their orgasms eventually taper off, the only thing that fills the room is the sound of their haphazard breathing. Gently, she lifts off, her hands pressing down against his chest. She feels his mess slowly seeping out of her.

"'m sorry," he runs his hand through his hair, realizing that he finished in her without discussing it. "I should've asked—"

"No, it's fine. I'm on birth control. I wouldn't have wanted you to finish anywhere else." she admits bashfully, her cheeks rosy in a post-orgasm flush. "It's just... uncomfortable once it's over."

"Of course. Let me grab a towel to clean you up."

She nods graciously as she gradually flips onto her back. Harry returns a moment later, wiping his length clean before nestling between her thighs to wash the evidence of their sex away.

"Thank you," Y/N mumbles sleepily. "No one's ever done this for me before."

Harry scoffs. If he wasn't so exhausted, he would have pressed for more details, insisting that this wasn't something worth thanking him for. Instead, he simply tosses the towel in the hamper and gets back underneath the blankets.

"Can we cuddle?" she asks quietly, lifting her head to look at him. He smiles, extending his arm so she can nestle into his side.

"C'mere, pretty."

. . .

The next morning, Harry wakes up with Y/N tucked into his chest. They're still naked, but the warmth of her soft body feels incredible. So much so, that he wonders if he's stuck in some sort of dream.

He realizes it's not when she begins to stir in his arms. When she bats her eyelashes open, her eyes puffy with sleep, she smiles gently.

"Morning."

Harry matches her smile. In a leap of faith, he leans down to press a kiss to her lips. Even after last night's events, he's unsure if this is appropriate. He's not sure if it was supposed to be a one night stand type of situation, but considering she didn't get up in the middle of the night and leave, he entertains the idea that it may be a bit more than that.

"Good morning," he returns, watching as her face glows from his brief kiss. "What time do you have to be at work?"

She groans and it immediately makes him feel guilty. She leans up onto her elbows, the edge of the comforter hiding the peeks of her nipples as she glances at the time. It's already 8:10.

"I'm supposed to be there at 9," she replies, laying back down against the pillows. It looks like the wheels are churning in her head as she mindlessly fits her fingers between his.

"What are you thinking about?" he murmurs lowly, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Calling in sick," she admits. "Is it ridiculous that I don't want to leave?"

He chuckles, though a wave of relief washes over him. He had been thinking the same — he wanted to make her breakfast and have him in his bed all day, lean over and pepper kisses all over her face and watch as she wrinkles her nose in that cute way she does.

"Not ridiculous. We've spent months talking to each other, think we deserve some time together," he says, "In fact... if you call out, I'll do it, too."

"Really?" she asks with raised eyebrows.

"Sure. I have weeks of paid time that I've never used."

She grins and nods her head, "Okay. Yeah, that sounds good. Could we hang out all day? Maybe watch some movies and snuggle with Beatrice?"

"That sounds perfect, pretty girl." he replies, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. He sits up and grabs his clothes from the floor, pulling his sweatpants on before he heads down to his home office.

"Wait!" she grabs his arm, pulling gently. He quirks an eyebrow and looks at her expectedly. "Could we... do you think we can maybe use those toys I bought us?"

The warm flush that flowers over her cheeks makes his heart squeeze in his chest.

"Anything you want, baby," he murmurs with a small smile, "Anything you want."

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jyoongim · 2 months

Note

You know how theres been so many fics of what if reader was one of Al's victims and they meet in hell?

Well I kind of want to request something like that? but like the part where the murder happens??

I wanna see human!Alastor all out of breath still smiling going "oh wow you really gave me quite a chase, dear" when he finally corners you. Him with blood staining his cheek looking down at you as he finally managed to get you in the trunk of his car and giving us that oh so sexy "Lovely." in a deeper slower voice hajdjs I AM MASOCHIST OKAY

maybe reader can be like "go to hell bitch" with her dying breath and Al's just like "gladly! i'll see u there!" and they do meet heidnsja

You groaned as you propped yourself up against a fallen tree.Your body was screaming in pain, you were covered in small cuts and scraps from running through the woods. You winced as pain shot through your system. You looked down to pull your hand away from the bleeding wound.

Fuck

You weren’t gonna survive this.

You knew it.

Could feel it.

It made you laugh.

You heard a stick snap and whipped your head to see a dark figure walking towards you. You let out a breathless laugh, adrenaline finally coming down “damn bastard…”

Standing before you was the boogeyman himself.

Alastor.

He was leaned over, hands on knees as he panted, probably from running after you.

He chuckled, looking up at you over his blood-splattered glasses.

”I must admit I hadn’t expected you to run into the woods…a mistake on my part honestly…but you sent me on quite a chase darlin’ ” He was crouched in front of you, a smug smile on his face.

He was splattered in blood.

Your blood.

You grimaced, scrunching your nose at him. “You couldn’t just let me die in peace could you”

His smile curled as he pulled out some rope, oh how he loved that fire of yours.

”I’m afraid not my dear”

You didn’t have the energy to fight him as he tied you up, hissing at him as he heaved over his shoulder, deciding that you throwing insults at him would satisfy you.

”You are an egotistical self-absorbed piece of shit!”

”You think you’re so good huh? Killin folks and thinking no one knows…You ain’t as good as you think Alastor”

He hummed as he tracked back, listening to you hiss and curse at him.

”You’ll get caught mark my words! You like attention too much to keep your crimes under wraps. I never took you to be sloppy but what else is there to expect?”

He dropped you into the trunk of his car, leaning over you mockingly as you gasped trying to take in as much air as you fought the drowsiness that wanted to overcome you.

”Lovely” he brawled out tucking a strand of hair being your ear.

Even in your last moments, you fought him.

”I hope you burn in the hottest pit in Hell asshole” you muttered as your eyes closed, finally submitting to your wounds.

Alastor smiled as your body went limp “Ill gladly see you in Hell ma cherie”

————————————————————————————-

The gang watched in shock as a woman walked up to Alastor with a knife to his throat.

Alastor grin stretched across his face at the sight of you

”Why what a pleasure to see you again my dear” He leered down at your angry form “Miss me?‘

“You fucking asshole!” You hissed pressing the knife into his neck

”You might of killed me alive but ill be the one to end your afterlife” He laughed, taking your hand with the knife and lowering it.

“Ill love to see you try darlin’ ”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #human alastor

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sunaluv · 10 months

Note

Kinda random but what if Earth42! Miles had a s/o who was bitten by a spider as well (maybe just an AU where 1116 Miles didn’t get bitten by the spider or there was another one) and they are both rivals under the masks but literally love eachother without them bc they don’t know each other’s identity?? And some angsty if they were in battle and he was beating her tf up and literally about to kill her and removes the mask and MORE ANGST AHH. Thank You!!

omg i luvvv this idea!!!

"-coming up next, more sightings of the prowler around brooklyn. though his intentions unknown, it can be assumed that-"

both you and miles were sat in silence listening to the news report. his arm around your shoulders begun to bounce up and down as he watched the news lady talk about how he was an assumed criminal.

"out of everything, you choose to watch the news?" an unimpressed expression drew on his face, hoping you don't take note of the slight agitation in his tone.

"yeah." your gaze is stuck on the tv, eyes dancing around the screen trying to analyse as much as you can from the tv as you watched the masked figure evade the cameras lens.

the prowler was a... difficult subject for you. the you miles doesn't know about at least. the few interactions you've had with him as spider woman were very confusing. you obviously had a feud going on, the game of cat and mouse coming nowhere to an end. but for some reason, your spider senses seemed to be immune to him-- one of his abilities you assume. since that fact was revealed to you, you've been hyperfixated on the boy, using any public (sometimes private) resource out there to get a one up on him.

a deep groan came from your boyfriends throat. "you have a crush on him or somethin', ma?"

finally, your gaze is removed from the tv. "maybe i do," you teased, "he's an interesting character,"

nothing else was said that night and miles was forced to watch you stare this guy (which was him) down. it got to the point where he wasn't even sure you had blinked in the past 10 minutes.

once the headlines were no longer about the prowler, you had a change of heart and decided tv was no longer interesting and called it a night.

"sorry i was kinda absent tonight," you stood up with the intention of going to sleep. "you can sleep over if you want."

"all good. i don't think i can stay over though." miles rubbed his hands on his thighs, before standing up. "ill catch you later, mami."

he kissed your cheek gently, before leaving.

you walked him to the door, listening until his footsteps were out of view. once the hallway was quiet, you walked to your room with practiced, hushed footsteps before sliding your spider suit on with familiar fastness.

with a new objective in mind, you elegantly swung towards the main city whilst keeping an eye out for potential danger on the way. after making your daily night time rounds, you perched on top of a tall office building to rest a little.

"you're back."

the familiar voice spoke from behind you. the prowler had once again startled you with his masked prescence. thankfully, you were certain he had no way of telling how your heart rate slightly increased from the shock.

"saw you on the news today," you stood, making your way towards the man who had yet to move an inch. "you've officially been recognised as a criminal, congrats."

he watched, allowing you to get within meters of him. through your peripheral, you noted the subtle glow rasiating from his claws. you waited for him to make his move and it came.

finally, your spider sense reacted.

though the period between the instinct and the attack was much too short and before you knew it, he had dealt a heavy blow to your side but this attack was not like the others. whatever that was glowing in his hands had stored enough force to blast your body way leftwards, making you fall off the building.

the next series of attacks came quick. after using your webs to save yourself from falling, you quickly generated an electric current in your hands as you were now on the defense.

your spider sense was going crazy, as if making up for all those times it had failed you in the past.

left. right. from behind. a flurry of attacks were unleashed on you, filled with such hatred. you had managed to shock him a few times, but he had also snuck in a few of his own, never seen before attacks.

fifteen minutes have passed and the two of you were running on pure adrenaline at this point. all cards have been revealed and nobody had the juice to keep pulling out the flashy special attacks from before.

he had you pinned to the ground. "this ends right now araña," he held his claw to your throat, spikes digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood.

from behind the mask, miles watched as you choked and struggled, before going limp in his hold. he checked your pulse and confirmed you had just passed out. he had time to deal with you later, he needed some information before he discarded you after all.

releasing his hands from the claws, his fingers hooked under the mask to lift it and his blood ran cold seeing you, his lover, passed out on the dirty streets of new york with blood running down your face and bruises and cuts marked on cheeks which he had kissed an hour before.

he had done this to you. even worse, he had come at you with the intention to kill you.

"what have you done, mi amor," he whispered, eyes glossing over. "i'm so sorry," he had lifted you up and hugged you as tight as he could whilst trying not to apply more pressure to your cracked ribs which was again, his fault.

miles, the man who swore to kill anyone who harmed a hair on your pretty little head had now become the man he hated.

#miles x reader #miles morales x reader #e42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv angst

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tasteleeknow · 1 year

Text

º.☆・ ⇢ HURT/COMFORT WITH SKZ

genre: fluff, angst. content warnings: insecurities, depression, jealousy, fear of the dark, accidental injury, minor illness, alcohol use, driving anxiety word count: 4.6k (500 each)

a/n: my first ot8 post as a little thank you for 2k! i appreciate you so much both for reading and leaving feedback. hope you enjoy this too!

CHAN — his insecurities are getting to him

“But…you said we could go today…” you mutter, struggling to keep the disappointment from your voice. You’d been looking forward to this day all week. Your boyfriend had promised you’d finally go to the art exhibition in the city. It would be ending soon and then it would be gone forever.

Your boyfriend looks up from where he is hunched over his desk, where he had been scribbling something in a notebook. “I just can’t today.”

“Is it work?”

He looks back at the paper, pen halted. “No.”

“What’s so important that it has to be done today?”

“Go with Hyunjin instead.”

You take a step back, caught off guard. “What?”

“Hyunjin likes art, I’m sure he’d be stoked to go with you.”

You instinctively look down at your phone, having just texted your roommate minutes earlier. “Yeah, he probably would. But I want to go with you.”

Chan stands from his desk, keeping his back to you. You watch as he fiddles with his pen for a moment before dropping it and finally turning to face you. “Do you really?”

You frown, walking over to him and adjusting his necklace where it had twisted around his neck. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I want to do something with my boyfriend?”

He’s quiet for a moment.. Most of the time he just speaks, letting whatever he was thinking out—no filters or barriers. You loved him for it, for speaking his mind so freely. These moments when he was clearly preparing his words before voicing them are rare, so you wait. You wait, knowing he was taking a moment to gather his thoughts and that any interruption would throw him off track.

“Do you ever wonder if someone else would be better for you? If we don’t…click as well as we should?” he finally says, eyes cast down.

You drop your hands from his necklace, the one you’d gifted for his previous birthday. “No,” you answer without hesitation. “Do you?”

“Can you…think about it for a moment… before answering. It’s important.”

“I don’t need to think about it. I’m being honest. I’ve never wondered that and I’ve never had any doubts about you. About us.” You watch as his brows draw together, clearly lost in thought again. “Have you?” you ask him again.

“I wonder…if someone like Hyunjin might make you happier.”

You glance at the desk, where the notebook lays open—his scribbled handwriting filling the page. “Have you been feeling bad again?” you ask.

He looks over his shoulder, following your eyeline. He takes a step back to close the book. You step up to him, trailing your hand up his chest to rest over his heart. “It’s okay, I wasn’t trying to read it. I just…want you to tell me when you’re feeling bad. So I can be here for you.”

He takes a step away from you, your hand dropping from his chest. “But that’s the problem. I’m always having these episodes; days where I don’t want to leave the house or where I feel so low I feel like I bring you down with me.”

“Why are you writing?” you ask, a flicker of panic crossing his face at your question. “I’m not asking what you’re writing. Just why you’re doing it.”

“Because…it…makes it better. Helps.”

“You’re working on it. You’re doing things you’ve been taught will help you get better and that’s why it’s not a problem. You love me and I love you and we are working on ways to be better people because we love each other. Right?”

“I do… want to be better for you,” he says, pressing his own hand over his heart.

“And for you?”

A small smile crosses his lips. “And for me.”

You match his smile, stepping close so you can wrap your arms around him. “I love you now and I’ll love you when you love yourself too.” His arms tighten around you. “I can’t wait,” you finish.

MINHO — you’re afraid of the dark

“400,” you announce, grinning at your boyfriend across the table.

A grumble of thunder distracts his attention to the window behind you before he looks at you again. “Why the fuck is it 400?”

“I own all 4,” you say, pointing to your monopoly cards.

“This game is stupid.”

“It was invented as a critique of landlords and capitalism, it’s meant to be stupid.”

“Be a nice landlord and give me a free pass.”

“No. Pay up.”

He grumbles, slapping the money in your palm just as your apartment goes dark. You yelp, dropping the paper money and reaching blindly across the table until you feel your boyfriends arm.

“Blackout,” he says, stating the obvious. He stands from the table before you have a proper grip, leaving you stranded. You stand, feeling around the table for him.

“Where are you? Minho?”

“Just getting my phone,” he replies, already sounding much too far away.

You reach out into the darkness, relying purely on your memory of your apartment to navigate. “Come back, please. Minho! Please.”

“Boo,” he whispers, right at your side. You grip his arm, too relieved to be mad at him for attempting to make you jump. The screen from his phone lights up his face, then he turns on his torch.

“I’m gonna find some candles, you wanna stay here?”

“No.”

“I can get your phone? Won’t be dark.”

“Wanna come.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Poor baby.”

“Shut up.”

You keep your arm on his as he leads you through to the kitchen, standing right by him as he crouches down to dig through a drawer. You hold the torch for him until he stands, holding a few candles and a matchbox.

“Where do you wanna set up camp? Are we finishing the game?”

You shake your head.

“Bath?” he suggests.

“In the dark?”

He holds the candles up. “Come on.”

He leads you to the bathroom and you’re forced to let go of him as he sets up the candles and leans into the tub to turn the water on. You turn to look behind you occasionally, the pitch black hallway making you feel uneasy.

Minho’s breath tickles your neck as he comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Would you like help?” he asks, fingers moving to fiddle with the buttons on your jeans.

You look up at the dark doorway. “Could you... shut that?”

He kisses your cheek then moves around you to shut the door as you pull your clothes off. The room is barely lit, the reflection of the candles in the mirror making the small bathroom seem much bigger. He pulls his shirt over his head as he approaches you.

“You’re alright, I’ve got you. Yeah?” You nod and he leans around you to turn the water off. “Hop in.”

You lower yourself into the warm water, watching as your boyfriend removes the rest of his clothes. You shuffle aside to make room as he joins you, lying back so his head rests on the soft neck rest you’d bought him for christmas. He hold his arms up, beckoning you onto him. “C’mere.”

You climb over him, pressing your chest against his and resting your head on his shoulder—just above the waterline. His arms wrap around you.

“Good?” he asks.

You close your eyes, surrounded by warmth. The darkness feels far away. “Mm, good.”

CHANGBIN — he accidentally hurts you

It was an old injury, so old you’d only ever mentioned it in passing once. You’d get a twinge in your wrist occasionally but apart from that, you practically forgot about it yourself. That’s why when your boyfriend challenges you to an arm wrestle, you don’t hesitate to say yes. You were equally competitive, you challenged each other to silly little games constantly.

“You’re not gonna let me win?”

“Have I ever?”

“Fair.” You settle yourself over the counter, opposite him. He presses his palm to the smooth surface, offering an example for you to mirror. He grasps your hand in his, pulling you over the counter a little more so he can press a kiss to the back of your hand. “Ok, ready,” he says, allowing you to resume your starting position.

“What’s that?�� you ask, pointing over his shoulder with your free hand. As soon as he turns his head you start, pulling with all your strength. You manage to get him halfway down to the counter before he stops you, easily turning the tables. He puts more strength into it than he needs to, thrown off by your headstart. A sharp pain runs up your arm as your hand slams into the counter.

You pull your hand back to your chest, cradling it against your body as you scrunch your eyes shut—waiting for the pain to dull. It’ll pass, it’ll pass… you repeat to yourself. A soft touch on your shoulder alerts you to the fact Changbin has moved around the counter to your side. “Just a sec,” you mutter, unable to speak properly until the pain has dulled.

“Let me see,” he says, sounding stoic. He sounds so calm that you’re completely caught off guard when you look up at him and see his eyes watery. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him cry. It’s so shocking it distracts you entirely from the now dull wrist pain.

You let him lift your hand gently as you watch his face. “Can you move it?” he says, inspecting your skin as if tracking down the source of your pain would remedy it.

“Yeah, it’s fine. It’s just that old injury flaring up.” You pull your hand from him easily, the hold he has on you so gentle it offers no resistance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You lift his chin with your fingers, his gaze pointed towards the floor. “Was just karma for trying to cheat,” you say, a small smile on your face as you attempt to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t work, your boyfriend's eyes fix on your wrist—his eyes reminding you of a kicked puppy. You give him no warning when you jump on him, wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands come to support you naturally, a reflexive response to the way you’d greet him every day.

“Wasn’t your fault,” you mumble against his neck. “I’d forgotten about it too, honestly. S’okay.”

“Does it still hurt?”

You pull back from him enough to hold the inside of your wrist up to his mouth. His eyes flick between yours, confused for a moment. Then he brings his lips to your skin, pressing a soft kiss to your wrist.

“Not anymore,” you whisper, offering him a small smile before replacing your wrist with your lips—pressing lightly against his.

HYUNJIN — he thinks you don’t love him as much as he loves you

Your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic. You loved that about him, truly. The only problem was when you felt like you struggled to meet his expectations; when you didn’t express your love in a way that fit with his love language. He would wilt.

“Jinnie? Please talk to me,” you encourage, lifting the blanket from your boyfriend's head. He rolls over to face the wall, ignoring you. You sigh, lying down next to him—resting your hands under your head as you stare at his back.

“It’s okay,” he says, still facing the wall. “I love you more than you love me, I just have to…accept it.”

You reach to grab his shoulder, forcing him to roll onto his back so you can crawl over him. You stroke his forehead gently, brushing away a non-existent lock of hair—a habit you hadn’t yet abandoned since he’d cut his hair short. “Stop saying that, it hurts me.”

His brows pull together as his plush lips press together firmly. “You said you needed space.”

“Yes, that is what I said. I didn’t say ‘I love you less than you love me’.”

He looks confused but he shifts a little, bringing his hands up to rest against your thighs. “I’ve never wanted space from you. I want you always.”

His cheeks are rosy and you can’t help brushing your thumbs across them, cradling his face in your hands. “If I had to see anyone else as much as I see you, I’d lose my mind. It’s because I love you so much that I ask for my own space so rarely,” you finish.

“Do I bother you? Is that why you asked?”

“Sometimes anything external irritates me. Anything. My clothes on my skin, a notification on my phone. I just need to be alone sometimes, completely. No notifications, no sound, no other person. Even you. Even though you’re my favourite person ever.”

“Ever?”

“Ever, ever,” you smile, moving one of your thumbs to brush over his lips. You pull his bottom lip down gently, he’s much more relaxed now. “We are different people, hm? It’d be boring if we were exactly the same.”

“Mm,” he agrees, pulling you down against him. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart as you rise and fall gently with his breath. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Sometimes…I get…scared that you could never feel…as much as I do. So one day you’ll just…have had enough of me and because I know that won’t happen for me…it feels like…a clock is ticking down.”

“You have to trust me. If you really love me, you’ll trust me when I tell you how I feel. I promise I’ll always be honest, hm?”

“Yeah,” he says, the vibration of his voice in his chest against your ear.

“I promise I love you,” you say, lifting your head to whisper against his lips.

“I promise I love you, too.”

JISUNG — takes care of you when you’re drunk

You stumble up the steps, fiddling with your keys as your friend drives away. You drop them just as the door opens, stumbling forward into Jisungs arms as you lose your balance trying to bend down. He catches you, holding you upright until you're steady. Then he bends down, snatching the keys and poking his head out to look down the street.

“Where’s your friend?”

You smile. “Left.”

He frowns. “Before I opened the door?”

You reach out to stroke his hair. “You look so cute when you’re worried.” You kick your shoes off, stumbling into your apartment until you find the couch. “What time is it?” you mumble, struggling not to fall sideways and sleep right there in the living room.

Your roommate drops the keys in the little box near the door before following you, dropping to his knees at your feet. You reach to pet his head again. “You’re a good friend,” you slur, giggling when he frowns. He lets you pull the corners of his mouth up into a smile then he stands, holding his hand out to help you up.

“Bed,” he says, grunting a little as he pulls you up—your legs practically jelly. You fall into his arms, resting your head on his shoulder. You almost fall asleep just trying to walk to your room, collapsing onto your bed the second Jisung releases you. You close your eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness as Jisung moves around the room.

He’s leaning over you, trying to touch your face. “Sleep,” you mumble, attempting to push his hand away. He holds your hand down on the bed.

“Just let me clean this off, yeah?” he says, attempting to wipe the makeup off your face. You relent, going limp to let him work.

“Sungie?”

“Mm?”

“You’re a good friend.”

“You’re completely off your head,” he laughs. “Will you remember this tomorrow?”

“Maaaybe.”

“Maybe,” he repeats, the cloth against your face halting for a moment. “Did you…meet anyone tonight?” he asks, resuming his makeup removal service.

“My friends,” you mumble.

“I meant…ya know…like flirted with anyone.”

You giggle, reaching for Jisung’s arm. “Do you flirt, Sungie?”

“No.”

“Whyy?”

“There’s no one I want to flirt with.”

You pout, sitting up and squishing his cheeks between your fingers. “That’s sad, poor Sungie.”

“I’m not sad. I’m happy.”

“You are?”

He reaches up to smooth down your hair. “Mm. I'm happy if you’re happy.”

“What if I’m sad?”

“Then I’ll find what’s making you sad and take it away.”

“You’re a good friend,” you yawn, falling back down onto your pillows. He leans down to press a kiss to your head. You reach out to grab his hand as he stands to leave. “Sungie?”

“Yes?”

“Am I a good friend?”

“You’re a good everything.”

“...a good everything?” you mumble through another yawn, closing your eyes as Jisung intertwines your fingers.

“Mm. You’re everything.”

FELIX — you’re burnt out from uni/work

“What do you want for dinner?” your boyfriend asks gently. He’d been overly gentle with you all day, treating you like a cornered kitten. You loved him, but every question he asked you was wearing away at you. He’d suggested going to your favourite park, the colourful flowers and gentle breeze often did your mindset wonders. You didn’t want to get dressed. He’d put on your comfort film, the background noise was nice—but not enough to distract you from the heavyweight in your chest.

“I don’t care.”

“Pizza?” he asks, knowing it was your favourite—your go-to option when you were feeling low. You say nothing, closing your eyes and resting your head back against the couch.

“Wanna go for a drive and pick it up?” Felix asks, making the decision for you.

“No.”

His gentle fingers trace across your knuckles, where you are gripping a pillow to your chest. You relax your grip.

“I’ll order then,” he says, sounding a little dejected. You lift your head. It feels heavy on your neck. You fall into your boyfriend's lap, head resting against his thighs.

“Thank you,” you whisper. His free hands come to your hair, stroking the strands gently just above your ear.

“Anything you need?”

“Just you,” you answer, closing your eyes again. The sound of the tv is the only noise in the room for the next 20 minutes, your boyfriend's fingers continuing their gentle ministrations in your hair.

When the doorbell rings he lifts your head gently, replacing his lap with a pillow so he can answer the door. He’s gone not even a minute. That’s all the time you need for your eyes to fill with tears, suddenly completely overwhelmed. He places the pizza on the table then kneels by your side.

“Okay?”

You open your mouth to speak, unable to get anything past your lips but an ugly sob. He jumps into action, lifting your head so he can resume his position on the couch. You press your face to his legs for a moment before lifting yourself to climb into his lap, wrapping yourself around him. “So tired,” you sob, his hand stroking up and down your back.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I wish—I wish I could take it away.”

“Don’t—” you heave in a breath, already struggling to breathe through your uncontrollable sobbing. “Don’t leave.”

“Shhh. Not going anywhere, promise. Right here…just breathe.” His voice wobbles a little, prompting you to pull back to look at his face. “Breathe for me,” he finishes. His eyes are watery to match yours, his cheeks already wet from where his tears had spilled over.

You bring your hands to his cheeks, attempting to wipe them away. “Please don’t cry,” you sob.

He huffs out a laugh through his tears. “You cried first.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

His eyes soften, pulling your head back down to rest on his shoulder. “I know.” He lets you cry into his shoulder until your head hurts, finally lifting you from his lap so he can bring you a box of tissues. He takes one for himself. You take in the scene you both make, blowing your noses as your pizza sits cold on the coffee table.

Felix looks up at you, his nose bright red. You burst into laughter, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his neck again. “What’s funny?” he asks between sniffles.

“Just love you.”

SEUNGMIN — he comes home to find you sick

You’re faintly aware of a knock at the door, too unwell to even consider getting up to answer it. Instead you groan as you roll over, reaching for the bottle of water on the ground by the couch. You struggle to sit up, lifting your head just enough to sip from the lip of the bottle. The door opens just as you look across the room longingly at the fan, wishing you had the energy to turn it on and drag it over to blow directly in your face.

“Oh, you’re home. Why didn’t you—” your boyfriend pauses, taking in your sweaty form sprawled out on the couch. “What’s wrong?”

You’re suddenly overwhelmed, the exhaustion from looking after yourself all day catching up with you. You reach out towards him as your face crumbles, a sob escaping your throat. You don’t see him approach you, your eyes squeezed closed as you feel his arms wrap around you. He pulls you into his lap, guiding your head to his shoulder.

“You’re sick? Why didn’t you call?”

“You were busy,” you gasp between sobs.

He’s quiet, letting you gather yourself. It doesn’t take long, you don’t have the energy to cry. When you’re quiet he speaks again. “What do you need?”

“Don’t wanna be sick anymore,” you whine, knowing he couldn’t actually take it away but feeling much like you did as a child—begging your mum to make it stop.

“I know,” he says, palm rubbing up and down your back. “What else do you need?”

“Sleep.”

He stands, lifting you with him. Your legs dangle, too tired to cling to him like you usually do. He lowers your legs to the ground briefly so he can hook his arm under your legs and lift you properly. You wrap your arms around his neck weakly, relying on him entirely to hold you against him.

“Should’ve called,” he mutters, turning to manoeuvre through your bedroom doorway. He lowers you gently to the bed then disappears into your ensuite bathroom. You close your eyes, a small pained sound escaping your throat.

A cold cloth presses against your forehead and your eyes flutter open to take in the worried face of your boyfriend. “Have you taken anything?” he asks.

“This morning.”

He stands quickly, leaving the room without a word. When he returns he’s carrying a bottle of water and a small cup. “Swallow these,” he instructs, sitting down at the edge of the bed so he can help you sit. You do what he says, swallowing each tablet individually with a mouthful of water.

He places his hand at the back of your head to lower you back against the pillow. “Sleep.”

“Can’t sleep without you,” you mutter. He pulls his shirt over his head then crawls up next to you, wrapping his arm around you so he can pull you into him. “Do you think it’ll be gone when I wake?” you ask, trying to focus on the warm pressure of his body against your back.

“Definitely,” he answers, sounding completely sure of himself. You close your eyes as his lips press to your neck, drifting out of consciousness almost immediately.

JEONGIN — you panic while learning to drive

You’d been putting it off for years, the anxiety of learning to drive completely overwhelming. It wasn’t until your boyfriend offered to teach you that you finally worked up the courage. He made everything enjoyable, every grocery trip felt like a fun day out if you were with him.

“You’re ready to go out on the street,” he encourages again as your hands grip the wheel tightly. You’d only managed driving around an empty carpark so far. It was late on a Tuesday night, the streets were practically empty.

“I…don’t think I am.”

“I know you are.”

You turn to look at your boyfriend, his eyes shining behind his round glasses. You suck in a deep breath, attempting to loosen your grip on the wheel a little. You ease your foot off the break, rolling forward slightly before pressing the accelerator down slowly. Jeongin is quiet next to you, patient as always.

When you reach the exit you slam the breaks on, suddenly panicked by the open road ahead of you. “We’re going left,” your boyfriend says, still sounding totally calm and confident.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I can’t, I really can’t.”

He rests his hand on your thigh. “Baby? Hey,” You take one hand off the wheel to grasp his hand. “You got it,” he finishes.

Your heart races in your chest as you grip the wheel with both hands again, a shiver running through your body. Jeongin talks to you as you turn out into the street, giving you calm instructions and gentle encouragement. It isn’t until a car pulls out and follows directly behind you that you start to really panic, their headlights shining directly into the car.

“The car,” you mutter, panic evident in your voice.

“Ignore them,” your boyfriend says. “You can turn left at the next street.” Your eyes keep flicking to the rear view mirror, another shiver running through your body. Then they honk and you break too fast, swerving to pull up the side of the road. The car honks again as they speed past you, leaving you gasping for breath as you try to stay calm.

A hand gently rests over yours and you look up to the man sitting in the passenger seat. He pulls his hoodie over his head. “Want me to take over?” he asks. You nod, pulling the handbrake on and stepping out of the car.

He meets you half-way around the car, pulling his soft hoodie over your head and helping you push your arms through the sleeves. He’d often give you an item of his clothing when you were anxious, the smell of him close to you calming your nerves. The fabric is soft against your skin and you press the sleeve to your face as you climb into the passenger seat.

You’re both quiet as your boyfriend drives, your heart slowing back to a normal rate as you watch the world go by. It isn’t until the car pulls into an unfamiliar car park that you realise you haven’t been heading home. Jeongin presses a button to open the sunroof then turns the engine off. He gestures to the back seat and you climb over the centre console, your boyfriend following close behind.

He lays himself across the back seat and holds his arms open, beckoning you to join him. You press yourself against him, head resting against his shoulder—his arms around you prevent you from falling off the seats. You have a perfect view up to the clear night sky, your boyfriend's soft breath tickling your skin.

“You did well,” he says, breaking the silence finally.

You huff. “I freaked out.”

“You overcame your fear and drove on the roads,” he presses his lips to your temple. “Proud of you,” he mumbles against your skin.

a/n: some of these are snippets from longer wips! may be seen again in longer form in the future...

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

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vickyvicarious · 1 year

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"For your mother's sake."

It hits so hard, on multiple levels. First, what this might mean for her. It's her final effort, the most impactful thing she says after religion, superstition, outright pleading on her knees and crying all fail. She knows that she can't stop him from going, but at the very least she will try her best to protect him as much as she can. She places the crucifix around his neck herself, doesn't just hand it to him.

Did she lose a child to Dracula in the past? Is she seeing echoes of her own son in Jonathan's face? Or perhaps there have been brave young men who tried to fight back against him, who deliberately went to the castle and never returned. Maybe Jonathan is the first person she's met who is actually trying to go there, and while she knows it can only end in his death, the idea of letting anyone go willingly to that evil place is more than she can bear. She's giving up a piece of her own protection. The Count has been sending letters to her husband; he was the one who suggested Jonathan stay here. He knows of her. If she shows any resistance it could mean greater danger for herself, and giving Jonathan her crucifix means losing a powerful totem of self-protection. If he actually listened to her warning, she can probably expect a terrible fate of her own; maybe even just giving him the crucifix alone would be enough to ensure that. But again, whether he reminds her of her own lost son or just because he doesn't know what he's getting himself into, she can't bear to do nothing. She places herself in the role of his mother here. "For my sake," she's saying, "let me do what little I can to save you. Please."

Jonathan is an orphan. We don't know the circumstances of his childhood, but it's possible that he never even knew his mother. (It's my headcanon.) Even if he did, she has been gone for a long time now. And yet these are the words he can't argue with in the end. He was already taking her seriously, and trying to treat her with respect. Her warnings were obviously distressing to him, but there's no way he can actually turn back now. His livelihood depends on this trip, he has no actual evidence to justify leaving, and he also wants so badly to live up to Mr. Hawkins' trust in him. He is already "thinking of his father" (or the closest he has) when he says he has to go to the castle. And yet, the care and fear and love this woman is showing for him hits so hard. I wonder if he is thinking of his actual mother when he accepts the crucifix. Whether the concept of her or an actual memory... Or maybe he too is placing her in the role of his mother here. Maybe, in keeping the crucifix (and not just with him, but around his neck where she placed it, even as he rides away) he is saying yes to that implicit request as well. "I'll let you care for me. I'll accept it gratefully." It's the first motherly care he has probably felt in many long years.

In this book, children are placed in terrible danger again and again, and most of the time they can't be saved. Parents and parental figures are equally doomed, leaving our heroes all orphaned in a sense, unable to rely on any greater source of wisdom or comfort. They have to take things into their own hands and deal with the problem alone, despite still being caught up in grief for what they've lost - a kind of coming of age in that sense. There's even a literal version of this happening with both Arthur and Jonathan (and Mina) specifically, when their father figures die and leave them with sudden new responsibilities. And of course, the inheritances from these father figures help in distinct and immensely useful ways, even as they remain absent from the story throughout. They haunt the margins at best until death steals them away completely, and their illnesses tend to serve to divide our heroes from one another when they needed to be united sooner. I personally don't count van Helsing as a father figure really, but if you do then he is the only one who manages to be around and be directly helpful (and even then, he's unable to save Lucy), even though all the fathers we hear from are loved and loving. But we do actually meet a few mothers, and they are usually unable to alter the story despite being more present. Their efforts to save their children are misdirected and only bring about their own death as well, in the end. Lucy's mother seems to mean well but everything she does directly makes everything harder; the mother at the castle later tries to avenge her child possibly against the wrong person, and in any case is unable to succeed. But here, the innkeeper's wife with her crucifix manages what no other mother does. Even though she assumes this to be another wasted effort (in fact, she can't bear to remain in the room with him afterwards; re: Dracula did such a good job with the hopelessness in her voice when she says the 'mother's sake' line), her assistance helps Jonathan to survive. His 'inheritance' from this momentary mother-figure isn't just the physical crucifix, though that is useful (and also the only inheritance a mother leaves for a child throughout the book, even when it would be expected and easy and make complete sense to do so, ahem). It's also the first and the most knowledgeable and the most effective aid given to a 'child' throughout the entire book.

#dracula daily #re: dracula #dracula daily spoilers #crucifix lady #jonathan harker #dracula meta #my meta

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rockatanskette · 8 months

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Semi-related to my post on how human conservation practices, but I have a cold today, and it's got me thinking about biological altruism—the biological imperative to put other creatures ahead of yourself, to benefit the group.

When talking about possible interactions with other species, we talk a lot about humans being crazy and thrill-seeking and impossible to kill. Never use a warning shot as an incentive to keep humans out of a fight; it'll just make them angry. And that's true. But a valid criticism I've seen in the "Earth is a death world" community is that according to our understanding of evolution, every planet must be some form of death world. Competition fosters evolution—the wolf with sharper claws survives when its litter mates die. You can't reach space travel without some casualties along the way.

But the dog survives because it makes friends with the strange ape carrying a sharp stick. And the strange ape survives because it befriends the wolf. Underneath the death world is an inextricable and undeniable layer of the bond world; the love world; the world, together.

I imagine some worlds are not death worlds. They're peaceful and tranquil. I suspect there are worlds far more deadly than Earth, where the skies rain diamonds, harder than any substance we know with the species to match. And I imagine that they are united in their confusion at the duality of humankind.

Today is a great example: I have a cold, and I want someone to take care of me, but the people who would are immunocompromised, also sick, or live 8 hours away, respectfully. I also want no one within the walls of my apartment or I will eat them. I feel gross, I feel tired, and I don't want a single human being anywhere near me, even if they did bring soup.

In my constant scrolling through my phone today, I decided to look up why the hell I feel so bad—why everyone feels so bad when they're ill. And the answer surprised me. I always thought it was because your immune system is active, so it's using a lot of your energy. That is part of it. Another part is that your brain and body are communicating across the blood-brain barrier to fight the infection, which is rare and energetically expensive.

But that doesn't explain everything, and according to more current research, it could also be what's called the Eyam Hypothesis: that we feel so gross, so we instinctively isolate from other people. We're too tired to deal with others, and so we don't infect them. Misanthropy for the good of the species. Of course, it can also backfire: one of the criticisms of the Eyam Hypothesis is that humans also instinctively care for each other. If my brother has a headache, I drive to the store for Advil.

Personally, I think it's a little bit of both: biological altruism. Either way, the majority live on. The first thought I had this morning when I woke up wasn't "I feel gross" it was "there's no way I'm going to work today." And while that might not be everyone's first thought, you don't even have to be a particularly altruistic person to not want to leave your home or your bed when you're sick. It's inborn.

And so when the human named Ismail comes down with a case of the interstellar common cold, his alien friend Dyos grows very concerned. Ismail is usually intensely social, almost off-puttingly so. Some crew members joke about how his quarters are for sleeping and prayer only; if he's home alone? You should be worried. But when Dyos demands an answer to the severity of Ismail's malady, the other humans just nod knowingly.

"Nah, he's okay, the medics already cleared him. It's not a severe infection."

"But there are so many...fluids. And his body has changed color."

There is a moment of confusion there until they remember that Dyos's species can see in the infrared color spectrum.

"Nah, that's just a low-grade fever. It should break in the next couple days."

"But he doesn’t want to play chess today," Dyos insists.

"Ohhhh," says human Claudia, finally understanding. "No, that's normal. Humans don't like being around other people when they're sick, it's supposed to be one of the major evolutionary advantages. Protect your community from your illness and the genes live on."

"So we're just going to leave him alone?" Dyos is troubled by this. He can go for weeks without speaking to another life form, but he has seen Ismail grow despondent when unable to participate in social gathering.

"Oh, no," human Claudia says, laughing. "We're going to employ one of the other most longstanding human evolutionary advantages."

There are many to choose from and Dyos settles on, "middle age?"

"Sort of," human Claudia opens up a small shipping container and holds up a brown paper bag tied with a colorful ribbon. It glows brightly in Dyos's vision, almost as brightly as human Claudia's smile. "His nanni's hot soup, express delivery."

#i feel like this is the one that's going to get discourse and to that i say:#stop it i no feel good #we can talk about other human responses to disease when my skull goes back to being the right temperature #send good feelings the us postal service won't let my babushka send me soup #anyway #humans are human #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #earth is space australia #earth is a death world #earth is a bond world #lemme know if i forgot any of the main ones

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puck-bunnies · 3 months

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take care of you

nico hischier x fem!reader

warnings: none, just fluff. writing fluff is not my strong suit. not proof read.

word count: 1.6k

after a long night of clubbing all you want is just to rest, your boyfriend is there to take care of you.

i am almost black out drunk, the multiple shots of tequila going straight to my head. my boyfriend nico stays beside me the entire time, monitoring everything i drink, everywhere i go, trying to keep me safe.

since it’s hockey season, nico isn’t drinking alcohol, so when i want to go for a night out he’s my designated driver and personal bodyguard guard.

i pound back one more shot while he isn’t looking, he turns when he hears the glass smack against the counter. i stare at him all bug eyed, “come on Y/N, that’s enough for the night.”

“no, one more.” i slur out, i try to grab another shot from someone at the bar, but nick grabs my arms, hauling me into him.

“come on, i think it’s time to get you home.” his hands switch, one on my waist keeping me upright, and one helping me sling my arm around his shoulders. i groan as he wrestles his way out the crowd with me by his side.

nico finally manages to get me out of the club, getting us back to our car and picking me up into my seat. as soon as my body hits the comfy car seat, i almost knock out clean.

my body goes to sleep, but my mind somehow flights it. staring out the windows at the passing lights as my brain visits a different place. nico’s hand is on my thigh, rubbing up and down soothingly.

once we get into the driveway, he lugs me into the house. helping me take off my shoes, one by one, and then my jacket. my body falls into him, pulling him into a long bear hug.

he giggles, pulling me in by my waist and placing his head on top of mine. my head digs into his chest, god i could just fall asleep right here. a loud groan releases from my mouth, “i’m so tired.”

i can feel my whole body relaxing as one of his hands leave waist and tangle in my hair. his large hands rub my scalp, fingers combing through my hair. it feels like a hundred pound weight is taken off my shoulders, i lean against his chest letting him take the weight of me.

“you want to go to bed sweetheart?” he whispers to me. i nod my head again his chest, not even wanting to lift my head off the cushion of his skin. he lets out a soft giggle, knowing that i don’t even want to move the new feet to our bedroom, he sweeps me up.

my head is resting on his shoulder as he carries me to our bed. a deep and exhausted moan comes out of my mouth as my body finally hits the soft mattress. nico helps pull the covers over me, the lights stay off to help the headache that’s starting to creep up on me.

i so badly just want to roll over on my bed, lay on my stomach and just let the soft feathered pillows engulf my body. fuck, i’m still wearing makeup. “ugh, baby can you get me a makeup wipe from the bathroom?” i ask, giving him slight puppy dog eyes.

nico just chuckles, making his way to the bathrooms to get me what i want. it doesn’t take him long to find the wipes and finally return to be half dozed off in the bed. i fight the urge to sleep, grabbing the wipe from his hand and lazily wiping the long days makeup off of my face.

rubbing my eyes free of mascara i feel so much better, my face finally being free of my caked up face. i toss the wipe over the end of the bed, not caring about where it ends up or when ill pick it up.

i finally roll over onto my side, smushing my face into the white pillow case. one pillow finds its way into my arms, hugging it to fill the empty where nico would usually be. my eyes close, not being able to stay open enough to wait for nico to come to bed.

•°. *࿐

my heads pounding in my head, my whole body feels so heavy as i manage to lift myself to sit up in the bed. i groan but instantly regretting it, i can barely even breathe without it hurting my head. i’m about to move the sheets from off my body to grab some pills when i look over at the nightstand.

sitting next to my charging phone is a water bottle filled with cold water and advil. a smile spreads on my lips, nico snores beside me, i can’t help my feel my heart explode with happiness. he went out of his way last night to keep me safe, get me home, ready for bed and think ahead to grab me medicine. god i love this man so fucking much.

i pop the pills back in my mouth, swallowing them down with a huge gulp of water. it doesn’t take long for the advil to kick in, my head has stopped pounding with every breath i’m taking, my joints relax as i still haven’t left my bed since waking up.

nico finally starts to stir, quickly after he wakes up, turning over to look at me. i comb my hair through his bed head, he offers me a soft smile as my fingers lightly scratch at his scalp. “good morning.” i whisper.

“good morning baby, how you feeling?” his head goes to my chest, bringing me into a hug. my hands are still entangled in nico’s hair, letting him use me as a human shield.

i sigh, “oh i’m fine, i think i’m just going to lay low today.”

“i have practice at 11, so you can stay home and ill bring home some food and coffee after. we can just rest for today.” he knows that’s exactly what i want to hear, sometimes i think he knows me better than i know myself.

•°. *࿐

nico’s been gone for around two hours, i stay in our bed alone, completely cocooned in the bedsheets. i’ve switched from watching my show to being on my phone, and i feel completely brain rotted.

i keep chugging back water hoping that my hangover will just magically disappear. as expected, nothing is working. i stay rotting away in my empty bed while my eyes stay trained on the softly dimmed television screen.

i’ve basically tuned everything out, i don’t hear as the keys jingle in the lock and the front door opens. suddenly nico walks in the door, my head comes out of its haze and a bright smile warms my face.

nico’s accompanied by a pizza and my favourite starbucks drink. i let out a quiet exclaim, my body language pulling nico to me. “how was practice baby?” i ask, he hands me my drink before giving me a quick kiss on the lips.

“it was good, we just ran the same drills. nothing too special happened. how’re you feeling?” the pizza gets placed on my lap just as nico flops in the bed next to me. i open the box, the steam and waft of the pizza hits my face making my stomach immediately grumble.

“i’m getting better, resting is helping. i’m just so tired, and hungry.” i don’t waste a second, grabbing a slice of the steaming pizza and taking a bite. nico helps himself, grabbing the television remote as he settles back down.

“so what’re you thinking we watch? action, comedy, horror, romance…” he dreads the last option will be my answer. although he hates romance movies, he always suffers through them with me.

i laugh, “i’m in the mood for some stupid ass comedy movie.”

“hmm, how about 21 jump street? you seen that?” he questions, flicking through netflix’s home screen. he’s already on his second slice of pizza as i start nibbling on the crust, ripping apart the tough dough.

my eyes narrow at him, “are you kidding, of course i’ve seen that movie, it’s a classic comedy. we’re watching it, i love that movie.” i make my decision, not wanting to settle for anything less than my choice.

he laughs at me, putting the movie on and finishing most of the pizza. by the time there is only one or two slices gone, my starbucks has two sips left, my head is against nico’s chest, using him as a pillow. his hand is around my back, rubbing up and down soothingly.

the warmth, darkness and comfortable position makes my eyes start to lower. my breath is slowed and head in the clouds, my mind starts to leave away from me. with a few more rubs of my back, i’m fast asleep against his chest.

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier one shot #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #nico hischier fic #puck-bunnies

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evilminji · 2 months

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We all know how Vlad likes to make clones of Danny and then get rid of them when they don't work out I'm just imagining a entire crack filled idea Ra is one of those clones I just got accidentally into a dimension.

Ra got thrown all the way back in time in a different dimension and is incredibly pissed at Vlad for creating him and worried about Danny if Vlad making more clones like Ra

Out of spite not only does Ra come immortal and try to do glad when it comes to doing shady things to make Danny proud aka the best mother of all times he's also trying to make the world a better place he got the weird balance of Danny along with Vlad obsessions. 100 years into making the colt and being alive Danny finds out about Ross existence as the ghost King and decides you know what I support all my children as a mother even when they are starting coats or planning world domination, and destruction. In the straight up tells Ra don't kill too many people you make mom's job harder and anytime you need something call me I'm proud of you for at least waiting to make the world a better place. Like on the scale of good and bad Danny placed him right in the middle Ellie wants to be a hero and a traveler so if she's in the top when it comes to the good skeleton in the middle scale is Ra cuz does he own a cult yes but he also wants to make a world a better place, and Dan is at dead last for just wanting destruction sometimes but he's working on it he does clay art now.

Ra also inherited Danny's ability to make things chaotic without even trying. I just see Rose dropping to Talia and Damien sometimes while your great/grandmother was country but other than I don't think we have any more races mixed with us.

Or he just drops I'm not laying tally I have the sleeping normally my mother was 14 when he had my siblings in me and mother described it as going to do with excruciating hell.

Talia has been tired argument with Ra after he accidentally just straight up says well great grandfather was grandmother's uncle he did go to school with mother's parents and was best friends with mother's father.

Tim is so confused and all he wants his answers in the background .

I can just see Ra comparing Damien's fearless his old mother's fear illness he will mention of nowhere mother fist fought father when they first met or mother can break a wall with a single hit of their head.

Talia is going to be so confused when they find out that only is mother a crazy batshit person he's also the ghost King.

Talia staring at Grandma who is the ghost King: father did you not think this was important to tell me sooner.

Ra: I have mentioned this before in one of my conversations about mother you just weren't listening Talia.

Danny in the background frelingover his kid and his grandchildren along with great grandchild.

Ra full name is Ra Al Ghul 'Dirgham' Fenton Master

Danny says they had to keep with the cycle of the names no matter where they are in the name.

(This is also my secret chance to finally Vlad Masters as Arabic you can pray that out of my cold dead hands Danny American-born Chinese who who has a very strong country accident because of his father)

Any who don't have to write this I just hope you had a good laugh form my stupid writing I really do love your work hope you have a fun time reading this ╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯＼⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠／

Not stupid! I got my first Ficlette! :D this is amazing and thank you! I did enjoy it!

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp

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sweetercalypso · 4 months

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Candlelight || Joel Miller

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: When a power outage interrupts your Christmas preparations, neighbor!Joel Miller appears on your doorstep to make sure you’re alright

Notes: no warnings! enemies to lovers, swearing, one kiss, Hallmark level fluff, grumpy neighbor Joel turned into a big softie by the power of Christmas

The holiday season is a time to celebrate the values that bring people together – generosity, friendship, gratitude. It provides an opportunity to reflect on the things you’re thankful for, the things that matter most.

It seems ironic that your Christmas will be spent in the dark.

Just as you’re leaning over your dining table to light the collection of candles meant to bring light into your home, the sound of knocking interrupts your focus. You grumble under your breath and stumble towards the entryway, hoping to greet the electrician you’d called some time ago, or a neighbor coming to keep you updated on the problem.

When you throw the door open, however, you’re faced with the last person you’d expect to see standing on the other side.

“Joel? What’re you doing here?”

This time of year, it seems like every house on the block has adorned their lawn with as many dazzling, ornate decorations as possible. Giant flashing Christmas trees, snowmen that move and sing carols through the night, blinking life-sized reindeer lining every driveway – your street must look like a landing strip to planes passing overhead.

It was a tradition that your entire neighborhood partook in, always competing to have the biggest, the brightest, display on the street. The only house that wasn’t decorated for the holidays was the one across from yours, belonging to the infamous grump of the neighborhood – Joel Miller.

He’s lived on this street longer than you have, so you’re not sure if he’d always been this much of a scrooge, but you’d like to think he was born with the heart of an ill-tempered Grinch. You’d never seen so much as a single Christmas tree lighting up his windows.

Maybe he just doesn’t celebrate, you’d told yourself. There are plenty of reasons not to enjoy the holidays.

You were fine to leave it at that until Joel Miller himself showed up on your doorstep, huffing about how much energy your lights were using up. You wonder if he took the time to chastise your other neighbors for their decorations, too.

It turned out that he was right, because the night before Christmas, every light in the neighborhood sputtered a weak final flicker and then gave out entirely, leaving the entire street shrouded in an empty, quiet darkness.

You’d been putting the finishing touches on your Christmas tree when it happened, tinsel clinging to your sweater in tiny strands of silver and gold. You swore under your breath and searched the house for enough candles and matches to light your home until the power came back on, hopefully sometime before the night was over.

This was not the Christmas surprise you were hoping for.

You’d just gotten your candles set up when Joel Miller appeared on your porch, a tightlipped frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“I told you,” he says as soon as you open the door. “All these damn lights – it’s just too much.”

“You came over here just to tell me that you were right?”

He rubs a hand over his brow and sighs. “No, I just- I warned you that this would happen, y’know.”

A bitter chill sweeps through the doorway, causing you both to shiver from the sudden cold. Without any power, you doubt your house will stay warm very long, and you made a mental note to grab a jacket as soon as Joel leaves.

“I know you think I’m just here to nag but… really, I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Oh.”

You’d butted heads with your neighbor more times than you could count, so his sudden interest in your wellbeing comes as a surprise. A warmth creeps up your neck when you picture him trekking across the street in this weather just to check that you were okay.

“M’fine,” you shrug and flex your fingers where they rest on the doorknob. “Just a bit spooked, I guess.”

Maybe it’s some unseen force of festive generosity, or maybe you’re moved by his unexpected kindness, but a little voice in your head calls you to speak before you fully understand what you’re asking. “Would you wanna come in for a little while? Just until the power comes back on.”

Joel furrows his brow in question but eventually nods, another unexpected twist in your evening.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

You’re not sure who’s more surprised by his answer, but you move to let him inside and he offers a half-hearted smile as he passes through the doorway.

“Are you sure this is alright? I don’t want to intrude.”

He brushes the fallen snow from his messy curls and leans down to unlace his boots, already making himself comfortable before you can respond.

“Of course. I’ll light some candles so it’s not so dark in here.”

You flit past him in the direction of the living room and Joel pauses in the foyer to remove his heavy winter coat. Your own jacket hangs on a hook by the door, and as Joel sheds his own outer layers, he thinks about how complete the scene looks with his coat and flannel hanging in the empty spot next to yours.

He shakes the thought from his head and shuffles blindly in the direction you’d disappeared in, rounding the corner to find a handful of lit candles flickering idly in every corner of your living room. A blend of vanilla and cinnamon and something he can’t name fills his chest with a distinctly nostalgic warmth, a feeling he’s been searching for longer than he can remember.

“I guess the whole neighborhood’s gone dark, huh?”

He nods once before he remembers that you can’t see him, responding with a clipped ‘yeah’ that feels too harsh for this intimate setting.

“I- uh,” he clears his throat, rocking on the soles of his feet to ease his stiff posture. “I wanted to check with you first, but I assume it’s the same problem all the way down the block.”

You tilt your head in thought, replaying his words to make sure you’d heard him right. “You came here first?”

“Well, yeah” he says, as if you should’ve been expecting his answer. “I wanted to see that you were okay.”

A stretch of silence follows his admission, and he wonders if you’d somehow left the room without him knowing. Instead, he’s shocked to find you suddenly in front of him, placing a hand on his arm with a gentle touch that makes him shudder. “Joel, that’s so sweet.”

He shrugs indifferently, though he’s grateful that the low light of the burning candles hides the reddening of his cheeks. “Just knew you were alone, that’s all.”

You’re almost fooled by his impassive response, but there’s an unfamiliar waver in his voice, a telltale sign that there was more to be said. You’d ignore it for now, but you hoped to revisit his sentiment again some other time.

“So you came to celebrate with me, then?” you tease, enjoying this new tender side of the man you’d once thought to be incapable of softness.

He scoffs and shakes his head, though he doesn’t pull away when you sidle up against him. ‘Course not. Just being a good neighbor.”

You’re about to respond when Joel leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before turning away to disguise his sheepish grin. He’s happy that you could see past his high walls, even if he’s not ready to admit it.

“Whatever the reason, I’m glad you came over,” you tell him, content expression warmed by the weak orange flicker of the candlelight. Maybe he’s not such a Grinch after all.

#pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #the last of us fluff #tlou #tlou fluff #tlou x reader #christmas fic #christmas fluff

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doki-doki-imagines · 4 months

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I have a request :) liu kang, raiden, shang tsung and smoke's child trying to get out of training by pretending they're sick. (Dad *cough* I'm sick) 🤣

Liu Kang: -He looks at them, poker face. -"You know you can't fool me, right?" No anger nor annoyance in his voice, just a hint of amusement. -His kid groans when he pulls off the covers. -A full smile appears on Liu Kang's face after his kid pushes him out to prepare for the day. Memories of him trying the same thing with Raiden and with the same result. -Kung Lao has always been the more convincing actor between the two.

Raiden: -Full believes his kid. He tells his child to rest and keep warm. -Raiden goes to the training ground, Kung Lao soon walking to him. -"So, where is your kid?" "Illness, probably they didn't cover enough when training outside." Raiden replies, face still looking at the trainees. "Incredible, sick exactly for legs day." Lao says, tongue-in-cheek, eyes twinkling in michief. Raiden doesn't utter a word, the words of his friend running in circles in his brain. -"Raiden, do you remember when we trained together?" "Yes, I do." "Was I ever sick?" "At times." Raiden smirks, knowing full well where the conversation is going. "Was I ever sick, for real?" Raiden finally looks at his friend, a foxy smile on Lao's face. -Raiden crosses his arms, eyes again on the trainees. -A long talk awaits his kid.

Shang Tsung: -"How stupid can you be to think you could fool me?" -His kid didn't even have the time to open his mouth, Shang Tsung understanding his intention with just a glance. -The apple never falls far away from the tree, they say. -But his kid still has a long way to go if they wanna surpass the father…

Tomas Vrbada: -He is ass at understanding if people are sick using his hand, so the next move is- -"Stay there, I'm gonna ask mom to feel your temperature." It's time to sweat cold, kid. -The kid get away with it, but your words are still clear in their mind "Do you really want to make your father sad? To make him always suspicious about your every word? You know how much he cares about you. Next time, if you wanna skip speak up, confront is always better than lying." -Who tought a kid could learn this much from a little mischief! The illness excuse will never be used again.

#mk x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk headcanons #mk1 headcanons #mortal kombat headcanons #liu kang #mk1 raiden #shang tsung #tomas vrbada #mk1 smoke #the audacity of shang tsung kid to lie to the father is incredible #as we say “you must still eat bowls of pasta before reaching his level” LOL

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rorah · 2 months

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The mentally stable Dimitri Fire emblem 3 hopes.

It surprises me that there's still ppl claiming so, but then I remember we're talking about 3h interpretations and I have to make peace with it.

But that doesn't stop me from venting a little bit in this little space I have lol. Actually, it dries me and makes me feel bad to bring this up because I will have to talk bad about Dedue, and I don't want to talk Bad about Dedue. He's a genuinely good boy. But "Human" nonetheless, which means Flaws. I like Felix too but he's become some sort of a clown that doesn't make me feel too bad. I like Felix tho, In a different way.

Mostly talking about these two because the take that "Dimitri has better support system" baffles me because, technically, these two are his support system in HopesVerse. The persons who Dimitri relays on and seek solace/advice/support. The rest doesn't really tackle any of his personal struggles (aside from the Mage!Mitri frustrated dream, but that's out of the bad equation in our 'mentally unwell' set of pixels, and Shez only has a glimpse). Contrary, to Houses verse where the whole blue lions cast knew about his shit, didn't know what to do, but didn't leave either.

I tackled this topic with other person on Twitter who was (or still is) on board with this take and the phrase they used was They contained him better, which of course I agree and remarked that was exactly the problem. Contain him is gonna be contra productive. I used a water dam analogy, where the structure of such dam is damaged, and the pressure of water keeps accumulating. Causing a foreseeable damage for the dam itself and the surroundings. You don't need to be a genius to understand it, you need experience or knowledge for mental ill topics tho.

I really don't want to extend so much on here because it's mostly just, rant format more than a proper analysis so I just want to point out these two things in their support conversations.

First, Dedue. Encourage him to keep on the vengeful path. Which we know was the final goal of Azure Moon and if you payed attention to 3 houses message. The whole Vengeful argument was something Bad, to keep it simple. Despite Dimitri actively looking for answers/guidance for something that, in a rational state he can see clearly like vengeance will consume his life (also Shez and Felix called out this behavior). Dedue answer only encourage him to keep on that path, because he would do that 💔. Presenting 2 oposite views is a great formula for confusion and disorientation. Now, Dedue's role is primary SUPPORT, not guidance nor orientation. He will support his shit no matter what, and we are quite aware of that if played Houses.

Second, Felix. Felix is a special case. He is smart but also an idiot lacks A LOT of soft skills to actually be of help. He's the only one who knows in this verse about Dimitri having a mental issue. In their A support to say the least, so they don't close or solve anything. What makes it more worrisome is the fact that Felix conceals the issue as a secret.

"So try to keep that whole "removing their heads" thing in check, yeah? We can just call it our little secret."

this extract here makes me feel so unwell 😭help

The whole burden falls over him and his lack of skills and wisdom on the matter will be too much for him later on. He at least, will be able to recognize that the problem is beyond of his capabilities and will look for help. Felix himself has his own issues and journey where he needs to learn. He's forced to get pass beyond some of his angry teen behavior but hasn't completely get over it.

There is a lot more to tackle, but that requires more work and time. What are the topics some of you think is important to cover around understanding the Hopes verse resolution? Dimitri's route? something? Do you think the route without Byleth is better? With that being said, I would like to delve deeper into character analysis, and the role each played for the Lords too. That also requires to talk about the Byleth and needs a whole analysis on their own, which requires time (which i don't have much lol) To end this vent, I would like to encourage people to do a little research for the terminology they're using like "Support System". Who makes it up and how it operates successfully. The fact that ppl saying "he has better support system" only because he didn't go feral on the run alone is not entirely valid. A reminder that people can feel alone with or without people around them. And containing the issue within doesn't solve any problem. At best, it's presented later. At worse, it gets worse.

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #my lil blorbo with mental health issues #few3hopes #fire emblem warriors 3 hopes #Today I woke up and felt like venting #BUT Just to make myself clear #this has nothing to do with ships #you can ship whatever you want #You do you #Just in case someone has that feeling #This is an analysis from a mental health point of view #because it is one of the strong points of this character and with which many of us connect/relate #So I like to apply psychological and neurological (even psychiatric if necessary) perspectives #And I like to apply realistic theories to this fictional world because that is the good thing about three-dimensional characters #They feel so human that all these hypotheses can be applied #If some of you don't. That's cool too. You do you #Enjoy the game as you please lil fella #ALSO ALSO I'm taking into account what the intention of the developers was #(that would be tricky considering the inconsistency withing the developers' team >___>)

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sturniolosass · 3 months

Text

Date Night -

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Angst, ends in Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, fatphobia?, arguing, yelling, crying, kissing, anger?, another girl…bi-reader

Summary: Chris was never the type to be ready for a “first date” but when y/n asks him out, he can’t help but feel anxious about saying yes.

Chris was seated on his cream couch in the living room of the boys home when y/n decides to text him.

Y/N

Hey Chris wyd

Nothing much just watching Tv chilling thinking ab running some games of fort…wassup

Oh nothing, I just saw the new Wednesday video you just released.. I was thinking it’d be funny for you to let me take your “first date virginity”..

lmaoo that’d be weird tho right? I mean you are one of my closest friends idk if we should hang out that intimately..

I mean it’d only be weird if we make it..I feel like this would be just a chill day and maybe I could give you some pointers on how you should treat a girl on your true first date…

I mean that’s true.. I guess it wouldn’t hurt..

Chris POV

Texting y/n about this date idea she has, has really struck some anxiety in me.. You see I like y/n a lot but I've been speaking to this new girl named Sade, she's gorgeous and sweet.. she sings, gets along with all my friends and don't get me wrong y/n does most of those things too.. but I've been waiting around so long for her to realize how I've felt about her.. she's had two boyfriends, one or two talking stages, and one girlfriend.. all in the four year span of us knowing eachother, two of which I was completely in love with her..

I was thinking of bringing Sade to half of our date around the ending just to make it clear to y/n that she knows this is exactly what is planned to be, I can't keep waiting around for her to come around to me, my life has to keep moving. I was never the one to out and tell her how I've felt but Nick and Matt tell me that they've both informed her of my feelings years ago...

As I get ready I make sure to text Sade asking her to join us later in the night to hang out.. however I'm not sure where we'll be hanging at so ill wait to give her to major details..

Heading out I call Laura to ask her to send a driver for the day because even though this isn't the real date I still want it to go how I planned it in my head...

Once the driver arrives I spray two squirts of cologne on my wrist and dab then against my neck heading out in my Betty boop Vintage Hollywood Tee, my black distressed jeans, and white air forces getting in the car and heading out on the way to y/n’s house

Your POV

As I’m getting ready to go applying lipgloss and my forces I receive a message from Chris saying He’s on his way.. which confused me a little because i swore that man couldn’t drive and that i’d have to pick him up from his house.. regardless i tie my shoes up and head out down the stairs..

For today i planned to head out to a Top Golf and after have some ice cream then later in the night stop at a park and just walk and talk and finally tell Chris my feelings for him.. Yea it’s been a while I’ve been feeling this way for Chris, maybe a month or two.. and remembering back in maybe 2021 when Nick told me Chris was “in love with me” and i was with Braden, I have no doubt this will go my way..

Chris texts me that he’s outside, i hop up from the couch and run out the door.

“hey” i say sliding in the seat next to him in the all black escalade with blacked out windows “oh hey” he smiles. “chauffeur” i nod insinuating the driver “yea, you know you’re special” he smirks smugly. “yea right” i roll my eyes laughing. “we are we going” he notices we’re still sitting in my drive way.. “oh 3756 cherry street” i tell the driver the address to top golf.. Chris automatically notices the address “Top Golf?!” he shouts excitedly “haha yeah! is that a good idea?” i ask hoping he likes the idea. “give me aux.” i say “ask the driver” he replies.. I get the aux from the driver and play a couple songs..

Once we arrive we walk in play a couple games until we tire eachother out. Sitting down to grab something to eat we start chatting.

“Yo! let me ask you a couple questions and see if you can answer them good enough.” i ask he looks at me weirdly “ok.. but i wanna let you know to help me if i answer then badly.. i have a date lined up after this practice” he laughed.. Me not know if he’s sure or not i begin to ask the questions “if you were friends with a girl and you had a girlfriend then the friend/girl posts pics in a bikini, would you like them?” i ask look at him suspiciously.. “Well it depen-“ he starts “ANNNNTTT” i say making the sound of a buzzer to signify he got the answer wrong.. “what do you mean?? i barely got to answer” he argues. “you shouldn’t like it regardless!!” i argue.. “well, that’s just crazy but i understand..” he nods in approval. “ok next one.” just as i start to ask he states “ oh by the way, Sade is gonna join us later.. where should i tell her to join us at?” he asks looking down at his phone as if he was reading a text message “oh what do you mean i thought i was teaching you some stuff today..?” i ask confused.. “i mean yeah but by the end of the night i kinda wanted to see if the things you taught me worked.. ya know like see if my jitters go away a little” he says nonchalantly.. i just look down, “oh” i say.. “hey how about we just head out to grab ice cream and then she could just join us at the park later” i ask.. “ok bet, ill let her know our plans” he nods.

Hearing Chris even mention another girl made my stomach feel as queasy as it would after eating a whole chipotle burrito in one sitting.. So we head out.. Getting in the car i see Chris Texting on his phone again.. assuming it’s Sade i grab his phone putting it behind my back “come on vibe with me it’s fucking skies” i shout over the bass. “come on just give me my phone back y/n” he stares blankly.. “no you’re stuck in it” i speak. “just give me my shit come on” he raises his voice a little. “na na na boo boo you can’t get it” i joke. “DUDE STOP PLAYING ALL THE TIME JUST GIVE ME MY SHIT” Chris shouts startling me.. i just hand him the phone and turn to look out the window..

It was so obvious i had an attitude but I’m sure Chris wouldn’t tell over the messages between him and Sade he was smiling at.. It hurt me how he was just so fine with being this way towards me when i’ve never once in my life raised my voice at him yet alone completely screamed in his face… however i assume that’s how someone you like a lot can make you feel..

Once we arrive at the Ice cream parlor I get a cone with cookies and cream in which Chris gets the same but in a cup with extra cookies, i look at him smiling “twins” i joke.. he just nods smiling before pulling his phone out his pocket “hey! is it cool if Sade joins us now? she’s around the corner at the Thrift shop and it’d just make sense” he asks.. clearly annoyed i say “sure, i mean that wasn’t the plan at all but what the fuck ever” i speak rolling my eyes.. “what’s is your problem..?” he asks offended by my response.. “like you’ve been acting weird since we left Top Golf and it’s annoying, if you’re just gone be an asshole you can just go home cause you’re definitely killing my mood” he adds.. “Chris what the fuck are you on about? I’ve been nothing but sweet while you just sit on your phone the whole day, the last conversation we had was at Top Golf dude since then you’ve just been on your phone..that’s what’s annoying” i respond.. “whatever i’m just trying to respond fast enough is that not what girls like?” he raises his voice “Sure Chris but am i not a girl sitting in fucking front of you??” i shout back.. he just rolls his eyes

Sade then walks up.. she’s very pretty, Brunette hair, tattoos, brown eyes.. she’s honestly everything like me which is odd.. because Chris makes it seem like i’m nothing his type and just one of the “bros”..

As the Night goes on they continue chatting and i’m just there as a third wheel.. the only time me and Chris are alone is when Sade gets in her car to drive to the park because we still have the driver in the escalade, “hey Chris, i’m just gone gonna go home, i’m not really enjoying myself anymore” i speak.. he looks at me then back to his phone, then back at me “hey look.. i’m not gonna lie, i treated you like shit today and..I’m sorry, but i really need you for this part.. seriously, i’m gonna ask Sade to be my girlfriend and i’m not sure i can do this without you” he looks up at me with pleadful eyes.. “huuuugh fine” you sigh out knowing helping him with this is gonna tear you apart…

Once arriving at the park you, Chris, and Sade walk around the park chatting for a while until you get bored of their constant flirting and decide to lag behind the two.. Hearing a fly near your ear you swat it away only to realize it’s a moth totally terrified you start to jump around stepping on the back of Sade’s shoe to which she speak “Ouch! What the fuck is your problem! that fucking hurt asshole” she yells at you.. which catches chris off guard “woah calm down im sure it was a mistake, there was a bug or something” He speaks. “girl i didn’t do it on purpose, calm the hell down” i say back. “yeah sure you didn’t, you almost broke my fucking ankle fat ass” she yells! “woah what the fuck chill out Sade” Chris yells. “In what world would you ever think that’s funny or whatever the fuck you thought saying that dumb shit” Chris spoke annoyed.. I just walked away knowing if i were to stay there I’d be in a fight..

Once i get a block or two away i hear my name being shouted “y/n! y/n!” i looke back and it’s Chris. Annoyed i continue walking…. “Y/n come on!” Chris yells getting closer.. i slowly stop…

“Chris what the hell do you want? you and that girl have been nothing but rude to me all day… i’m sure you’ve even been laughing at her little jokes she’s had to say about me” i speak… “what? no! i told her to go home.. i didn’t even know she acted that way..i wouldn’t in a million years have even thought about being with her if i knew she spoke like that about you or any of my friends for that matter” He adds.. “Chris can you just let me go home.. i came out today hoping to end up telling you how i feel thinking you’d feel the same but hearing you’ve developed these feelings for someone else has done nothing but broke me over the last couple of hours” I start to tear up.. “What? what are you talking about?” he asks, “Chris, i like you.. like a lot, maybe even love you.. and thinking about our past and how we’re practically the same person, enjoy the same things, same music, same games, same fashion sense, etc. i thought you’d feel the same.. shit apparently even Nick and Matt thought the same thing but they were wrong. I’m fine if you don’t feel the same way but all i ask for is time apart from you, we spend almost every other day together and i can’t take doing that with you knowing you feel the way i feel for you, for another women.” i confess… “wait y/n, i never knew you felt this way…i’ve been in love with you for 3 years now” he drops to his knees in a sort of begging way “you crying because you think i don’t feel the same would have to be one of the most crazy things ive seen all week” he adds… “all ive ever wanted to do was be with you, you’re my rock, my entire world, being without you for more than a week would cause me too much pain to even live with” he confessed… i just smile looking down at him awkwardly. Pulling him up from the ground i ask “so where do we go from here?” looking into his blue orbs.. “i mean we can try again on that date” he smiled hating to have just said that in such a corny way.. “ haha i'd like that. but you’ve gotta promise that they’ll be no extra girls.” i reply.. “i promise” he obliged.. looking down at me in the middle of the sidewalk..

I kiss him.. and it feel like the most soul shocking thing i’ve ever experienced… considering ive never been in love before after dating 3 men.. i can guarantee that this is what love feels like.. we both pull away and he looks down shyly “that was so corny” he jokes “haha kissing under the moonlight, headahh” i joke back. We both cry laughing as we walk back to the Car… Where surprisingly the driver is still sitting…

The end :)

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #harry styles imagines masterlist

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lostarchivesoforpheus · 6 months

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Hello! Could you do Pure Vanilla Cookie x Fem! Ancient reader, whose kingdom is like a spiritual kingdom and The Reader Is just very stressed?? Like, very little time to eat, sleep, ect. How could PV maybe comfort her?? Have a nice day!!

`•- Time for Yourself

pure vanilla cookie x fem reader

summary: pure vanilla notices you haven't been acting like yourself lately. how does he help you feel better?

warnings: physical touch, pure vanilla is kind of a worry wart, also im not super proud of the writing on this one so im sorry if it's not as good as my other stuff :((

a/n: is it bad that when i went to the store today and saw pure vanilla extract on the shelf i thought of pure vanilla cookie

Pure Vanilla Cookie has noticed the lack of letters you've been sending him recently.

Of course, he knows that ruling a kingdom is no simple ordeal, and, of course, there's no way you would be able to send him a letter every day. However, despite that, you've always made sure to send him letters frequently and inform him of every nifty little thing going on in your life.

That is, up until roughly three and a half weeks ago.

You used to send him letters every four or five days to keep him updated on everything going on in your kingdom, and he always wrote back when he received your letters. However, when he responded to a letter you sent about three and a half weeks ago, you hadn't written anything back to him.

He found this behavior very strange, as you were always enthusiastic about being able to talk with him whenever you got the chance. Pure Vanilla Cookie was, frankly, getting rather worried about you and how you were doing. So, he decided to take a trip over to your kingdom to see for himself what was wrong.

When he finally arrived, Pure Vanilla Cookie was quick to stride towards your castle, making haste towards your office, where you spent most of your time. Gently knocking on the door, he quietly entered the room, as to not disturb you too much. He immediately notices your eyebags, the empty coffee mugs littered around your desk, and the way you don't even glance at him when he enters the room, thinking it was just some servant needing to ask a quick question or something of the like. Needless to say, when he spoke up, you immediately turned and stared at him in surprise.

"My Dear, has everything been okay lately?" He gently asks. "Ah! Pure Vanilla Cookie? What are you doing here?" You respond, shocked. You had no idea he was coming, you had no time to prepare, you didn't want him to see you like this.

"Are you alright?" He slowly walks toward you before draping his cloak over your shoulders, "You haven't responded to my letter for weeks, and you look awfully tired. How long have you been sitting here working today?" He looks at you with worry swirling in his eyes.

As you sit there failing to answer his question, he gently places a hand on your head and caresses your hair, sighing, "You need to remember to take care of yourself, you know. You can hardly handle this much work in the state that you're in. Why don't you rest for a bit?"

You look at him with tired eyes, attempting to provide a counter-argument, "I know, I know, but-" "No buts. You're going to go lay in bed and read a nice book to help you de-stress. I'll also fetch you some tea. Then, perhaps you can take a nap. You'll feel a lot better when you wake up," He suddenly picked you up, carrying you back to your bedroom before you can even say anything. Perhaps he was right though, as you were indeed doing a lot better the next morning. Perhaps self-care really is important after all.

a/n: not me writing a fic about self-care at 2 am when i haven't slept and i am in fact not taking care of myself lmao uhhhhhh i promise ill get some sleep once i finish up the rest of the requests i swear i pinky promise i swear

thanks for reading, and remember to take care of yourself! don't be like me lmao

#`•- side hall in the archives: hurt/comfort #fanfic #fanfic author #fanfiction #fanfiction author #x reader #cookie run #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk #crk x reader #pure vanilla cookie #pure vanilla x reader #pure vanilla cookie x reader #pure vanilla cookie run #pure vanilla cookie run kingdom #pure vanilla crk

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slutforgarlogan · 2 months

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Needy | Peter Maximoff x F!Reader

Summary: Based off this request. you're trying to do your homework but Peters being needy

Warnings: Oral (m!recieving), orgasm denial, peters a whiny pathetic man (i think thats it?)

A/N: this is a tad rushed i am so tired i went to bed at 4am and im running on a bottle of cough syrup (im ill), 2 large pizzas, a cookie and a can of fanta. Also decided to get mean on him at the end and deeping it i could never

You are sat at your desk in your room, working on your college homework, scared of falling behind. You've finally managed to get into the groove of things, understanding what the homework actually is, leaning on your desk a bit to concentrate.

And thats when you hear your bedroom window open. You roll your eyes, already knowing who it is, he's the only person who ever comes in through your window despite the fact you've told him countless times he is allowed to just use the door. You swivel around in your chair, facing the silver haired boy. "What"

He quirks an eyebrow, sounding amused "Lovely to see you too babe"

A small smile breaks on your face as you look at your idiot boyfriend, and take on a much lighter and playful tone than before. "What do you want Peter"

He gives you a look, a look that you know all too well and you roll your eyes once again. "I'm doing work Quickie, you can wait," you turn back round in your chair, going back to your homework.

He groans loudly and flops onto your bed in a starfish pose, ever the dramatic. You chuckle a little and speak to him, not turning round. "I've got cake snacks in the drawer on my bedside table, just eat those and shut up" You always kept the drawer on your bedside table full of twinkies. Because Peter was always in your room, and he liked them. You hear him open the drawer, and you smile, finally being able to work.

Though it didn't last long, not only did he devour the entire contents of the drawer, but he had now decided to go for a different route to get your attention, since groaning and whining like a toddler didnt play out in his favour. He was off your bed and stood to your side in a silver blur. Now leaning forward slightly and rocking back and fourth on his heels impatiently, with his hands holding each other behind his back.

"watcha doin"

"work"

"what work"

You just need him to shut up for 20 minutes.

"college work"

He doesnt say anything for a second, still rocking around on his heels next to you, heaven forbid he stay still and quiet.

"can i have a kiss" your lips curl up into a small smile, rolling your eyes lovingly. You turn your chair slightly to face him, pulling him down and giving him a short but sweet kiss. You can still taste the cake snacks on him.

When you pull away to go back to your work, Peter decides to lean down behind you and kiss your neck, sucking on it and leaving little marks. Your breath hitches, which doesnt go unnoticed by him, but you keep your composure, trying to ignore it and do your work.

He wraps his arms round you from behind where your sat, and he teases his fingers at your waistband. "Quickie i swear to god"

He pouts a little "please"

You roll your eyes, groaning and turning around in your seat, hands moving to his trousers to unbuckle his belt. He keeps his eyes trained on you now, pupils blown wide and eyes pleading.

You unbutton his trousers and pull them down to pool at his ankles. He steps out of them and you swap places, he's now sat in your desk chair, and you're in front of it, knelt down on the floor with his dick in your hand.

You bring your thumb to his tip, running your hand over the slit and spreading his precum around the head of his cock. He whimpers, bucking up into your hand "Please"

You pump his dick a couple of times, before leaning down to take the tip in your mouth, sucking on it like a lollipop and eliciting a string of moans and whines from the boy beneath you.

You take him fully in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head, as your hands work at the base and you look up at him through your lashes, relishing in how needy he is.

He involuntarily thrusts his hips up, pathetically whining and moaning, even more turned on by the eye contact you're making with him.

When you feel his dick start to twitch in your mouth, you pull off him. He whines loudly at the loss of contact, searching your eyes desperately. "no no no please"

"you can finish when i finish my work"

#evan peters #evan peters smut #peter maximoff smut #american horror story #quicksilver smut #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #rileys requests

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the-ace-with-spades · 3 months

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(an unfinished post I found as I scrolled through my drafts on the train to glasgow. putting it out there as i feel... something rn)

Whenever I think of Mav and Ice as Bradley's parents/parental figures, no matter what the scenario is, I always imagine that Ice is the softer one and Mav is the stricter one.

No matter whether the child acquisition happens when Bradley is in elementary school or when he's a teenager, I think Mav would already be more used to parenting Bradley, even if he'd never call it that, simply because I can't imagine him not helping Carole throughout the years. I imagine he's seen Bradley's first tantrums and was the one Carole called whenever Bradley was acting out, or whenever she felt like Bradley needed a 'man's hand' regarding issues with boys at school or was about to hit the big milestones like learning to ride a bike or start school or outgrow the car seat or anything that she felt she would be too emotional about to keep Bradley's confidence up. They'd always come to pick Mav up from deployment and would be at all of Mav's ceremonies and big events and it all worked in both ways --- Mav was a parent and Carole and Bradley were his family. He'd never call himself a dad, not even when Bradley started sometimes calling him that whenever explaining to the other kids that he's 'kinda like his dad' and Carole said it was okay, but he was a parent.

For a while after Bradley moves in with them, Ice is stuck in the fun uncle mode because that's who he was before. Carole called Mav whenever she needed help with parenting issues, and Ice was there when no one was available --- to watch Bradley when Mav and Carole were at PTA, or take him to the beach with Slider when Carole and Mav were at work on a Saturday, or to buy Bradley way too many birthday presents despite their protests. He's not here for discipline or to manage the tantrums or to guide Bradley from a toddler to a kid to a teenager to a young adult --- he's here to spoil him in ways Mav or Carole can't.

Even when Carole falls ill and he takes more responsibilities around Bradley, he's still managing them in the 'fun uncle' mode. He picks up Bradley from school and takes him out to eat junk food or out for ice cream, or takes him to baseball practice and ends up buying him a whole new set of equipment on the way, lets him stay up late and lets him eat too much sugar and then takes him out to the playground despite misbehaving and unfinished homework so Bradley can get rid of the energy.

When Carole passes away, it gets to the point where Mav has to have a talk with him.

When it became clear Carole wasn't going to make it, Mav and Carole sorted out her will, including Bradley's care. Mav had a whole breakdown about it, far away from Bradley's eyes, and when he told Ice he didn't know how he was going to do it all alone, Ice promised he wouldn't have to, that they would do it together.

But Carole passes away and Bradley starts acting out, like most grieving kids, and Ice is still stuck in the 'fun uncle' mode. He doesn't know what to do when Bradley sulks after school, or refuses to go to school in the morning, or refuses to eat what they made for dinner, or when he doesn't want to sleep alone, or 'forgets' to pack his backpack. He just---stands there and observes as Bradley gets chewed up by Mav. Or Bradley gets sent to his room to go and finally do his homework after the third time he comes back with a warning from his teacher and Ice can't get his sad face out of his mind and sneaks into his room and maybe helps him a bit too much with said homework. When Bradley doesn't want to eat the dinner he's cooked, even though he asked him three times what he'd want before he started cooking, he caves in and orders takeouts despite spending nearly two hours in the kitchen.

Mav is tired. He doesn't like being the bad guy all the time, he can't do everything either, and Ice disregarding any sort of discipline or change he tries to implement is not helping at all.

"You can't be the fun uncle anymore," is what Mav tells him. "I need you to be his parent, with me. I can't have you both working against me."

The thing is, Ice's never expected to be a parent. He realized he's gay since he was about fifteen and knew that if he ever married, it'd be a levander marriage, with a wife he'd never touch and probably divorce fast enough that the lack of kids would be understandable. He hasn't been around many kids either, mostly isolated throughout most of his childhood, certainly not enough to see healthy parenting in place. As a kid himself, he was mostly self-sufficient, with his mom dead and his father absent or disapproving most of the time. It's the only thing that got stuck with him when he's around Bradley --- he never wants the kid to feel alone or like he's doing something wrong just because the adults are not appropriative of it. He sees himself in Bradley whenever he looks upset when they tell him what to do or when they punish him for misbehaviour or when he simply doesn't know how to make it better for him. Spoiling Bradley is so much easier than denying him anything or even negotiating a compromise for him.

Mav might have been like Bradley in a lot of ways, but his mom never had a family friend that could take on a parental role for him --- he had to fill the void his dad left in their family from a very young age. When he entered foster care when she passed, he didn't have many options. It was either misbehaving and ruining his life before it started with a suspended sentence or an accident or pulling himself together. In some foster families it was misbehaving and not eating or walking around with a black eye or behaving and staying above the water line until they would relocate him again. He knew what discipline was and he met many many parental figures he could learn from, both bad and good stuff. He's met kids that were older than him and then became them and met kids younger than him. Learned tricks and things that work for certain development stages, learned parenting can't just be soft if he wanted to keep the kid alive and healthy.

So Ice starts to learn, slowly. Saying no is still really hard, but he starts negotiating and asking for things. Starts telling Bradley to do things he doesn't like. Sometimes he helps him do those things, but doesn't do them for him anymore, not from start to finish anyway. He tells Bradley Mav is right and he should listen to him, explains why he's right whenever Bradley talks back when Mav chews him out. He starts getting a grip on the things parents are supposed to be there to make sure that are happening --- homework, food, cleaning Bradley's room, making sure the kid is showering and sleeping, wearing clean clothes, managing tantrums and outbursts in a way that is different than caving in and leaving Bradley to deal with them alone. They become a team again, Ice as Mav's wingman in the whole parenting gig.

Mav starts to breathe again.

Eventually, Bradley grows out of the grieving phase. He's still a teenager, but Ice likes to think they did an alright job sorting him out. He's a sensitive kid, still, and Ice likes to think Bradley knows it's okay, that they love him no matter what. He likes to remind himself that the instances when Bradley makes puppy eyes at them to ask for a new guitar or for extra money for a theater or when he just crawled between them on the couch or the moments when he rumbles on about some asshole from his class freely as he peels potatoes for Ice --- he reminds himself Bradley feels loved enough to not feel like those moments are a burden on them. Reminds himself he's not only alive and healthy, but also happy and they made sure of that.

When Bradley calls Mav dad for the first time and Mav is mortified, Ice finds himself jealous. For the first time in his life, he realizes he wants to be a dad. Then he realizes he wants to be Bradley's dad and he feels equally mortified as Mav. Neither of them was ever supposed to be Bradley's dad.

Ice is still a bit softer. It's not that Mav can't be fun --- he can tease the kid, play around with him, take him on outings and places that Bradley enjoys more than anything. He is the one who takes him flying for the first time and the one that screams at his matches, and the one who teases Bradley relentlessly as he helps him prepare for his first date. But Ice gives in a bit more easily, let's Bradley make the choices a bit more freely as he grows up.

They both hover but in different ways --- Mav is always, always kind of around, trying to protect Bradley from anything he can, especially as the years go on and he realises how much shit teenagers get into. Ice likes to think Bradley is sensible and that even if something happened, he knows he can count on them and would let them help him if need be.

Mav watches like a hawk as if Bradley could ruin his life with one wrong move and tried to predict if it will happen at any given moment. Ice isn't stupid, he knows Bradley is going to fuck up time and again, everyone does. But unlike Mav, he doesn't want him to have a perfect, unproblematic life. He wants him to feel safe and loved enough that no problem would seem too big or irreversible.

#icemav #mavdad #tgm #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #bradley rooster bradshaw #idk im feeling sentinental aboyt parenting lately #idk in general #enjoy my mid-uk road trip brain breakdances #op

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