#it went away on its own like 4 weeks later | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamerdeity · 6 months

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑-𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀

*ೃ𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Megumi Fushiguro x Fem. Reader

*ೃ𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.8k

*ೃ𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: You're at constant odds with your long-time academic rival Megumi Fushiguro. You swear up and down you hate his guts, and a lost bet on your part only further adds salt to the wound when you find out he's outranked you yet again. But when he finds you at a barren classroom after school, he offers you a different way to pay off what you owe.

*ೃ𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Hair-pulling, oral sex (m. receiving), face-fucking, mean-ish Megumi, cursing, choking, slight degrading kink. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, others, please proceed at your own risk!

*ೃ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: Hi babes I'm finally back from the dead fr this time (i'm lying) and ready to finish up the kinktober series. I've been having a Megumi phase recently (i think a more accurate statement would be "jjk men phase") and just had to include him because the academic rival Megumi concept has been eating at my brain for months. Anywayssss, as always, please do not report my work! If you are uncomfortable, do not read.

⇄ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Stupid. Utterly stupid and almost comical is what this is, and a terrible way to end your last year of school at that. Especially after all the relentless hard work and sleepless nights you've put in, but you're thinking maybe, just maybe if you hadn't overplayed your hand so rashly, you wouldn't be stuck in this infuriating predicament right now, staring up at the big blue letters on the wall in silent mortification as throngs of students stride purposefully away from you, knowing not to agitate a ticking bomb during tragic times like these.

He beat you by a whisker, that damned Megumi Fushiguro, that's what you tell yourself. No, actually scratch that. He was bound to beat you and now you're reaping what you sowed, because just what were you thinking last week? Strutting over to the conceited dickhead and betting on the so called "guaranteed prospect" (your own words) of outranking him once finals season closed at last. Not so guaranteed now, it seems, as this stupid list hangs haphazardly taped onto the wall, glaring back at you like it had eyes of its own, almost like it's taunting you.

Number 4.

Your eyes dart indignantly over the chart, hoping your name would magically climb up to first and free you of an inevitable and very awkward (more likely than not, also heated) encounter with Megumi later. Megumi, who so conveniently happened to place not one, not two, but a whopping three places above you, and now it was only a matter of time before he joined the huddle of students by the wall with a chin so high and a face so smug it would make for the perfect punching bag. He'll probably clear his throat, side eye you with a stupid smirk, then proceed to finish what the list started, taunting and jibing at you some more.

Frankly, you don't even have the money you promised in the event that you lost the bet to him, because you were so certain you'd make it. I mean, you've done it before—countless times before—so why was this happening? Why did he have to—

Speak of the devil.

Much to your dismay, a familiar scent of orchid and freshly-brewed coffee faintly weaves its way into the air and saturates your surroundings out of the blue, one that preceded Megumi wherever he went, and at this point it has become almost distressing to catch a whiff of it. A scent that immediately ignited your fight-or-flight-response. You're not so sure how long you've been disassociating here, but Megumi has taken stand beside you, humming thoughtfully, not a word leaving his mouth as his eyes leisurely scan over the senior class ranking list, too leisurely almost, like he was fully expecting this. Talk about conceited.

You know he wants to break you, to silently chip at your confidence until you can't bear but say something unprovoked, because he loves, loves antagonizing you, seeing you get all worked up with a pout and a grip to his collar, though you've become progressively harder to irritate lately and he hasn't really been able to come to terms with it for some reason. Either because your ignoring him bruises his pride, or because—Actually no, that's the only reason, he thinks.

The oppressive silence on his part is almost suffocating, and you make a point of letting out a loud exasperated sigh, arms crossed, your eyes focused ahead and foot tapping against the rubber flooring, intent on standing your ground and not yielding to his patronizing stare. Megumi looks down at you from the corner of his eye, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek in an attempt to suppress the growing smirk that tugs at his lips, which fails terrifically and only further agitates you. There's a mutual and silent understanding between the two of you that the rankings on the wall spoke for themselves—as much as you hate to admit it.

"Would you fucking stop that?"

"Oh so you can see me." Asshole. He bites back as his lips finally break into the grin he's been holding in this whole time, full attention on you now that you've given him something to work with. "I didn't say anything though."

"You were eventually going to."

"I wasn't."

"Move."

This is the last thing you need at a time like this. Fuck grades, Fuck this. Fuck him. You're turning on your heel and brushing past him harshly, and had you been looking at Megumi, you'd have noticed that haughty exterior of his breaking ever so slightly, face falling, but he expertly regains his bearings in a beat, as the teasing nudges of his friends and his snickering fade behind your retreating figure. You maneuver through the crowded hallway and pray he'd have enough sense in him to leave you alone right now. Just this once. Just long enough for you to digest the bitter disappointment bubbling within you. Star student. You hated that term, and yet here you were sulking over someone else snatching the childish title away. Constantly holding yourself to such high standards that bordered on unrealistic rendered you academically insatiable, and there was only one other person who matched your fervor. Him, and fuck was it annoying, unsettling even.

"Hey, I still haven't had my fun yet. Where're you going?" Megumi trots through the students, the slight curl of his lips not faltering as he catches up to you with a little skip to his step. Of course he'd be giddy. Who wouldn't be after placing first out of the entire senior class—Placing above you?

"Fuck you, Megumi." You really, really don't need this right now, and you're spitting the words out venomously, picking up your pace and hoping to somehow out-speed him before he gets to speak his stupid mind.

He ignores your petulant front and carries on regardless, of course he does. When has he ever heeded your warnings, really? A sardonic grin is plastered across his face as he cocks his head to the side, snorting childishly at your sullen face. "Quit moping. I was gonna outrank you whether you liked it or not." The sing-songy lilt to his voice has you reaching for his collar, but he roughly swats your hand away, pretend-dusting off his shoulder as he continues in mock sympathy with slow, solemn nods to himself. "But man, I saw that calc grade of yours. A 75, was it? Must be tough."

Asshole, part two.

If passive-aggressive were a living, walking person, you're sure it would be him, lock, stock, and barrel. He's so unbothered about the whole situation too, and it's that toxic indifference that makes you feel as though you owe him some kind of response, that makes you grit your teeth in irritation, fist so ready to meet his jaw if it wasn't for your honorable reputation. You find yourself trying to come up with some bogus justification as to why you failed so miserably (in your eyes, that is), anything to save whatever face you've got left, because god knew he wasn't the only one with a massive ego around here.

"Have you got nothing better to do, huh? Always attached to my hip like you're obsessed with me or something. Get a fucking life." No justification leaves your mouth, just...whatever the hell that was, and you watch him narrowly as you lean against the doorframe of your next class, and his eye twitches. Right, he loves antagonizing you, but he just remembered how much he hates the part where you do it back.

"That's rich coming from you." Megumi gives you his signature customer service smile, the one you've come to see on him when you know he's practically seething underneath the surface. Fun.

"Ahh spike hair is mad."

"Mad about what? You're the one with a B in calc. A terrible rank too."

"You're justifying. You're mad."

"I'm not?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does it hurt your fragile ego when I point out a truth you can't deny?"

Man, he could really use a coffee right now; Caffeine-induced palpitations seem much more pleasant than these ones your big mouth with its noxious words are giving him, but he just stares down at you, silent, expression unreadable, features etched into something you can't quite understand, and you almost begin to feel small under his scrutiny, how he venomously chews you up and spits you out with his eyes alone.

A few long beats of unwavering eye contact and, "You're annoying as hell." He grunts out finally and slumps his shoulders a little, features falling back into their usual neutrality as he turns to walk away. A hypocrite, you think. I mean, he's been psychologically terrorizing you for the past four years—well, maybe that's a little too dramatic of a way to put it—but every time you bit right back at him, he'd get all sulky like some melodramatic kid who was denied ice cream. Well surprise, two can fucking play his game.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You think the day couldn't have gone any slower as you pack your belongings. You want to head back home immediately and have the longest nap of the year, but there's a distant voice in the back of your head that nags at you to do some calculus practice somewhere until the horde of departing students charging through the hallway dissipates. The crowded premises are not really why you find yourself hunching over the desk solving math problems at some empty classroom you've never been inside before though, and you know that.

Much to your chagrin, you let Megumi's passing comments get to you—for the hundredth time probably, but who's counting? There's not much you can do to fix that abomination of a grade on your calc final, but what you can do is put in work to make sure it never happens again, to make sure you beat him next time, and so you labor away. Unrelenting focus blocks out the noise of thudding backpacks and empty chatter for what doesn't feel like long at all. It takes one raise of your head toward the window for you to see that you've royally lost track of time, the amalgam of pinks and oranges swirling above the clouds and painting the classroom in soft, warm sheens of amber.

You lean your arms over the desk, burying your face in between them with a satisfied exhale, you've made progress. You can tell. Great, that's great—

Never mind, this isn't great; A muffled racket somewhere in the hallway seeps lightly through the cracked door and scatters your train of thought. Megumi and his clique have probably just left debate club, you think. The clacking of boots against rubber draws closer, and you recognize the footsteps. Is it weird that you can recognize the rhythm of his footsteps.

Definitely weird, yeah. Or maybe it's survival instincts.

"Look who it is." Megumi lightly kicks the door open, very unceremoniously, hands stuffed in his pockets as he saunters inside, absently rolling a taffy around his mouth.

Here we go again."What?"

He shrugs, "Last time I checked this was public property. Do I need permission to be within your vicinity or somethin'?" He slowly strides toward the back of the class where you're seated, eyes narrowing a little in amusement as he halts in front of your desk and leans down to your eye-level. "Besides, don't you owe me a couple hundred?"

Right, the bet...

"So you're here for the money."

"Mhm."

"Well I don't have it. I'll get it tomorrow, so you're free to leave. Also, it's kind of embarrassing of you coming in here to beg for a couple hundred yen."

"Huh..." He exhales softly, still chewing on that taffy that seems to never melt away and standing back upright. He's watching you from head to toe, silently—again. He fucking does that a lot. And you're pretty vexed at his lack of reaction toward your jab, scoffing in annoyance and rising from your seat, mirroring his eyes with a scrutinizing glare of your own.

"Yeah, you're right." He finally says, and it takes you a moment to process the impossible declaration. Did he just agree with you? Where's the silver lining? There's got to be one somewhere, right?

"What do you mean?"

"Y'know... I was thinking," Megumi trails off under his breath as he rounds the table slowly, hands still stuffed in the warmth of his tailored pockets. His gaze is searing, predatory almost, like he could pounce on you at any given moment and do to you whatever he pleased—whatever that may be—with no witnesses to lend their testament, no saviors and no teachers to reprimand him for his tactics. He doesn't elaborate on what he said yet, stepping forward once, twice, thrice, as you step back in response. Until you're practically cornered against the wall. "We could forget about the money. I've got a different prize for me in mind."

Ah, there it is. The silver lining.

His ambiguous words stir something hot within you. Dread, yes, but also something else you'd rather not think about, because this is fucking weird. It's weird how your thoughts immediately drifted there. It's weird how whatever snide remark you wished to spew at him was swallowed back in apprehension. And it's weird how your heart stuttered so bad against your chest at his proximity.

"Cat got your tongue?" Megumi tilts his head to the side. He's so close, so close you can smell the caramel on his breath, see the lone freckle dusting the bridge of his nose.

You're shaking yourself out of the momentary stupor and raising your chin in defiance. "That still doesn't explain what you mean."

"I mean..." His voice dips lower, as if afraid of breaking the tension that's weaved itself around the two of you. He doesn't finish, only plucking his hands out of his pockets and bringing one to languidly trace along your jaw, slowly, softly, out of character. You're frozen in your spot, looking up at him with quizzical features and an unbearable heat where his fingers brush against your skin.

Megumi wasn't so sure when the distant but awfully persistent voice in his head took over his reason, but what he was very sure about was what he's about to do next. His hands come to cup your cheeks, tilting his head to the side and leaning dangerously close. His breath is fanning over your jaw, and he nudges it with his nose, then trailing back up until his lips are hovering over yours again, and he waits. Unmoving, lingering, and well, fuck it. Fuck this. You don't resist, you don't push him away, you let him, pressing your lips to his as roughly as he does his to yours, briefly savoring the sweet taste of taffy that seeps against your mouth.

"Mmph..." Megumi groans all muffled and almost desperate if it wasn't for the rough grip he had to the nape of your neck, forcibly slipping his tongue into your mouth with no warning, no care as to whether you want him to or not, because you were his prize after all. Not the other way around. His hands fall to roam over your body, toying with your clothed breasts and squeezing harder over them when he hears your initial yelp of surprise dissipate down to a whimper.

How perfect your lips felt against his, how pretty you looked all flushed and disoriented. Right, pretty. Why had he never taken the time to absorb your features before? Carve them into his mind like a sculptor enamored by the dents and ridges of his stone? He was stuck in a loop of competitive attitude and haughty remarks, ego so high up it clouded all else that swirled in his mind. He doesn’t voice any of these thoughts, or more so refuses to do so. He was extremely reticent about this sort of thing. About everything, really, because admitting to them out loud will make you the winner in this situation. He doesn’t want that. He never does. He’s got to stay on top, in more ways than one, come to think of it right now, so he pulls away, panting lightly, lips still hovering over yours as he hisses against them. "Get down."

...?

The brazen request hangs in the air for a moment, nothing but the faded buzzing of the air conditioner reverberating throughout the classroom.

"W-what?" You stare at him blankly, registering, an oppressive silence engulfing the two of you. You don't think you heard that right, or, put a little more accurately, you didn't want to think you heard that right. You know exactly just what he means, yet you can't help the way your eyes widen and your brow furrows at the implication of his very straightforward order, because frankly you thought he just wanted to make out, but damn it he wants more.

"'Said get down." He repeats. Simply. Like his request was the most obvious thing in the world with the way he shrugs at you so nonchalantly, eyeing you down like you were stupid to think he wasn't going to push further. So entitled, and it almost offends you. Almost.

You scoff bitterly, shaking your head at him incredulously as your eyes bore into his, neither of you faltering in the slightest as you engage in some sort of staring contest, some wordless battle of attrition to make the other yield compliantly. You stare up at him. He stares down at you for what feels like hours, quirks an eyebrow when you don't budge, and just as he's about to open his mouth and say something that'll irritate you even more, you plop down to your knees with a disgruntled sigh.

To say Megumi was surprised would be an understatement. I mean, he tried, like really tried to act unbothered by your pliant gesture, to compose himself a little better, but fuck did the sight of you on your knees for him make him hard. He can't help the pink that creeps up his cheeks when you look up at him, sniggering at the disoriented look on his face. So fucking embarrassing, he thinks, and turns away with a click of his tongue, the back of his hand lathered over the lower half of his face.

" 'Fuck are you looking at?" He snaps at you a little too defensively, hoping the faux irritation laced into his voice was convincing enough.

"Isn't this what you wanted? What else am I supposed to look at?" You cock your head with an innocent grin (malicious would be a better term, he knew you better than anybody around here after all), only adding salt to the wound.

"You're annoying as hell."

"Yeah, you've said that only like a million times but you're fucking worse." You bite back as you always do, but this time you earn a hard tug to the back of your hair from Megumi. Grip unfaltering, he yanks it upward and leans down toward your face. It startles you, the sudden change in dynamic. "Fuckin' hate when you talk back to me. Gonna shut you up."

You know better than to argue with that, folding your hands in your lap, watching him hook his thumb under the hem of his pants and glide it left to right and back again, other hand still interlaced in your hair. It's uncharacteristic of you, to let him order you around like this, you never let him order you around like this. You've always been the one to abuse your power and tug him by his collar every time he annoyed you, because despite his horrible personality, you knew he'd never raise a hand to a woman. But this? Fuck, you're almost scared to say or do the wrong thing with the way he's glaring freshly sharpened daggers at you, and he notices, he basks in the power trip, he smiles so mean, takes his sweet time unbuckling his belt above you with clanks that echo through the deafening silence of a barren school after sunset.

His belt comes undone, revealing the bulge that strains against his boxers, and at the realization of what you're inevitably about to do, your eyes flit nervously toward the door. A passing thought really, but a thought nonetheless; What if somebody were to walk in right now, to see the ever so cordial, diligent you on her knees for a man she swore up and down she hated? What if—

"You scared?" A taunting lilt to his voice, it's as though he read your mind. Megumi peeks down at you and loosens his grip on the back of your head, pushing it toward him and bringing your face closer to where he wants you most, completely relaxed with not a hint of anxiety in his demeanor.

"Like hell I am." Fuck does he think he is? No, you're not scared, not when he sucks in a breath as your hand comes up to palm at his clothed erection. You're watching him intently, unrelenting gaze scorching through him and scanning his face for even the slightest change in expression. He maintains the eye contact and waits, looks down at where your hand toys with his cock over his boxers, waits for a few long beats to see what you'll do next. You know what he wants, and yet you're not giving it to him. He's not a patient man, shouldn't you know that already? Because just as you're about to say something about making him work for it, he's scoffing loudly, swatting your hand away and retaking the reins.

"This is why I can't let you have shit your way." Megumi pulls his cock out in one swift motion, giving it a few experimental pumps right against your face, barely an inch away and so close you can feel his leaking tip haphazardly poke against your cheek a few times.

"When do you ever?" You mumble bitterly as you meet his eyes. He doesn't return your gaze, not sure if he even heard you, all hazy, pretty eyelashes fluttering down and breath going uneven already as he thumbs his tip and lathers it in precum.

"Okay, open up." He demands a little too breathlessly, and the shake of his voice betrays him as he taps the head of his cock against your lips in coaxing. You're inclined to play stubborn for at least a little while, only for him to shoot you a warning glare that has you reeling back a little, accepting your fate and opening up for him, sticking your tongue out. He pushes past your lips in one smooth motion, giving you no time to adjust to his length, to the tip that hits the back of your throat immediately, and your throat instinctively tightens around him, a muffled gasp escaping you as you claw at his thighs, choking so fucking prettily around his cock already. The sight has Megumi's heart stuttering, and he feels himself twitch in your mouth from the sound you just made alone.

"Haven't even started moving and you're already going stupid. Stay still, will you?" He reaches down to grab either side of your head and pulls out just enough for you to breathe momentarily, before slamming back into your mouth.

"F-fuck..." He grunts softly at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth engulfing him in full, and he begins to move. In and out, nice and steady. His pace starts out languid almost, and you're not sure if it was out of sensibility toward you or out of his own desire to prolong this as much as possible, too afraid to cum already.

"Gonna go faster—" At least he's considerate enough to tell you, the barer minimum really, but you're too dazed to be offended, nodding your head in encouragement as your hand slides under his shirt, brushing against his stomach and feeling it faintly tense at your touch. You keep your throat relaxed, loose and ready to take him in deeper. The grip on your hair tightens and he picks up his pace to the hilt, thrusting rough and hard into your mouth, desperate, almost pistoning into you, so aggressive with it that tears begin to coat your lash line, drool and precum dribbling down your chin in strings every time he pulls out just to slam right back in.

"Not so—fuck—Not so chatty now, are you?" He grunts out through labored pants, almost sneering down at you with a twitch of his lips, emphasizing his question with a particularly forceful thrust that almost has your head hitting the wall behind you, because if he didn't do that, he knows you'll try to run your mouth all over again, so he shuts you up before you even could, braces himself with a hand on the wall to quell the stutter of his hips and glances down at your teary eyes, your tousled hair, your flushed up cheeks. You're all fucked up. All fucked up just for him, and all docile just for him. When was the last time he's seen you this compliant? Never, honestly—Not toward him, at least. Letting him use you like this to his heart's content? Well boy is he going to exploit the hell out of this newfound power he holds over you.

"Sh-shit...Look at you. What would Gojo-Sensei think if he saw you getting your mouth fucked like a slut? Huh? By me outta everyone." You want to argue, spit some venom in his direction and tell him to drop it. He's rubbing it in your face, this whole thing, and you're fucking mad, helpless. You're digging your nails into his thigh in silent retaliation, and he groans at the burning crescents you etch into his flesh, shakily cursing under his breath. The sounds spilling past his lips are strained and obscene, mingling with the squelch of his wet cock and slapping of his balls against your chin.

The blend of pain and pleasure has Megumi's mind blanking in an instant, all kinds of sensations melding into one and rushing over him like a storm. He's teetering on the edge of release, you can feel it by the way his hips begin to buck erratically into your mouth, thrusts getting sloppier, frenzied, grip on your hair taut and burning. "F-fuck—want it so bad... gonna c-cum. You're gonna take it all—"

You watch his face scrunch up in pleasure as he babbles on, cheeks a pretty, deep pink, raven bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead and grip so tense in your hair that veins bulge along his forearms in spots you've never seen them do before. To think you're the one reducing him into this shaky mess of a man.

"C-cumming—hahh" He warns in passing, and before you know it, you're coughing around him, gagging on his cock as his lashes flutter down to meet your eyes, lips parted, a string of broken whines and choked up groans escaping him, thighs trembling as his knees threaten to buckle above you. "Yes—fuckfuck...f-fuck." He's depleting all that is left of his self-control to stay upright, thrusting rough and shooting a thick, hot rope of cum down your throat, but it's so fucking much that despite doing your best to take it all, some spills past the corners of your lips.

He slows down, pulling his cock out of your mouth, eyes fixated on the string of fluids that connects your lips to his tip like a thin bridge, and you take the deepest breath of your life yet.

"Not too shabby." He quips after catching his breath for a moment.

Now he was just asking for it. "Seriously? That's what you're gonna say after busting up a torrent in like 15 minutes?"

He shakes his head and motions toward the corner of your mouth with a languid smirk, ignoring your loaded comment to save himself the embarrassment. "You got something on your mouth over there. Why don't you lick it away?"

"Don't push it."

"Please."

"No."

"Idiot." Megumi pouts a little, sighing as he turns to tuck himself back into his pants and look presentable, gesturing for you to do the same. You're kind of dazed still, but you take heed and clean yourself up before grabbing your things and making for the door, halting just short of it when you feel Megumi grab your wrist.

"It's getting a little dark. I'll walk you home?" There's a finality in the way he looks at you, your wrist still snug in his grasp.

"I thought I was an idiot."

"Don't worry. You're the smartest idiot I know."

@venusinx

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk smut #𝕂𝔼𝕀ℝ𝔸'𝕊 𝕂𝕀ℕ𝕂𝕋𝕆𝔹𝔼ℝ

333 notes · View notes

callmelola111 · 11 months

Text

guilty conscience ☆ part three

← part 1 , part 2 ⭑ part 4 , part 5 →

synopsis: it’s your first year at college and you’re 1,500 miles away from home. you’d feel completely alone if it wasn't for your attractive roommate ellie. will this attraction complicate the already uncharted territory? or will she be the answer to all your problems?

|✯| pairing & wc: college!ellie williams x roommate!reader. wc: 2.7k

|✯| cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), fem reader, modern au!ellie, HEAVY ANGST, some swearing, heavy on sexual themes, cat lol, reader throws up, drinking, smoking, ellie acting like a piece of shit, almost kinda cheating

a/n: lots of character development in this part. looking forward to the next one though cause it will be getting sick, twisted, and hot. yes everyone, its true, expect some smut!!!! anyways hope you like all this crazy angst. thanks for all the support on previous parts, it means so much to me fr ♡

That night you went home early, never seeing Ellie’s band play. You don’t even have the energy to take off the makeup you had done special for that evening. You quickly changed to your pajamas, then slipped right into bed, all while maintaining a steady flow of tears.

You attempted to go to sleep, in fact, that’s all you really wanted to do. You didn’t want to feel the hurt of Ellie anymore. Unfortunately, sleep wasn’t in your near future. The night continued to play on a loop in your mind driving you insane. You questioned why you ever thought she would feel the same way about you as you did her. You felt stupid.

Ellie arrived home later that night. Not ready to face her just yet, you turned towards the wall and pretended to sleep. She would’ve fell for it too, but the hitch in your breath as you tried to swallow your sobs gave you away.

“Hey… uh, are you alright?” she gently inquired. Ellie was perplexed, still not understanding why you had stormed out on her and never came back. Has she done something to you? Or maybe you were jealous of Cat? She wanted to hear you say the words.

“If you think I’m crying over you, I-I’m not. I’m fine.” you finally muttered, putting all your defenses up. You felt embarrassed for feeling so strongly about her. This answer broke Ellie’s heart and she wasn’t quite sure why. She wished you would’ve stayed for her show, it was important, but it seemed like you could care less how your actions affected her. You humbled her in the worst way possible and it made her, in a way, resentful. Resentful enough that she wouldn’t open her eyes to the obvious fact that the two of you were more than just roommates.

Ellie responded, impulsive and pissed off, “Well fine, I’m glad. I- I really like Cat, and I don’t need you screwing this up for me.”

“Me??? Mess it up for you??? Don’t worry Ellie, you can do that all on your own, believe me.” You cringed hearing yourself be so cruel to the girl you love. You didn’t mean it.

That night neither of you slept and it was like that for the rest of the week. You hung around Dina as much as you could to avoid Ellie's presence. Being around her was like torture. Even more like torture was the fact that you were keeping it all a secret from Dina. You felt like a fool for getting into such a stupid situation. You’d just get embarrassed and start tearing up if you tried to tell her. But that didn’t stop Dina from asking. The other day, the two of you were hanging out and she brought up Cat, or as she liked to call her “the cunt from class”, never bothering to learn her real name.

“What ever happened with that cunt from class being at Ellie’s show the other night?”

“Oh Cat? Yeah, I guess she just happened to see a flyer and showed up. I don’t really know.” you replied trying not to sound too suspicious.

“Cat? You guys are on a first name basis now?” She chuckled, noticing your sudden unusual behavior, and questioning how you knew her name. You laughed along with her trying to play it off. Dina didn’t wanna pry though, she knew you’d tell her when you were ready. You loved how patient she was with you. You never had those kinds of friends back home. Dina saw your eyes soften as you admired the friendship the two of you shared.

“What?” she teased.

“I just love you Dina, that's all.” you said matter-of-factly and leaned in for a big embrace. She grabbed the sides of your face and leaned in to plant a kiss on the top of your head. Whatever was going on, she knew you needed the love.

“Love you too y/n.” she smiled back at you.

Taking advantage of the tender moment Dina mentioned, “by the way, there’s this party happening Friday and I think we should go.”

“I don’t know about a party…” you said reluctantly. You had been so down lately that you didn’t feel like partying, but that’s exactly why Dina insisted you go.

“Pleaseeee Y/n!!! A party would do you some good, You’ve been such a sad sack lately.” She was practically begging, so you gave up and agreed to go.

Meanwhile Ellie was being dragged around by Cat. It’s not that Cat was all bad news. There were some times where Ellie really liked hanging around her but it was mostly when the two of them were alone. Anytime other people came around, Cat’s attitude shifted and she became defensive and insecure. It’s like the presence of others presented this possibility that she could be abandoned by Ellie. Everyone felt like a threat.

Ellie disliked that side of her, but she could also sympathize. She knew what it felt like to be rejected and forgotten about, I mean, you were doing that to her right now. You were barely around anymore, always with that Dina girl. Maybe that was the real reason Ellie kept Cat around;

She knew she would never leave her. And if one day she did, deep down, Ellie knew she wouldn’t really care. Not like how she cares about you.

On Friday you headed over to Dina’s place and the two of you got ready for the party together. Dina did your makeup for you, she even put glitter under your eyes for a special touch.

“You look so hot bro. The sparkles are adorable, you’re like a little fairy” Dina exclaimed, proud of her work. You looked in the mirror and smiled. You haven't felt this good in a while. Once you guys arrived at the party you went straight to the backyard of the frathouse to smoke. No way you’d be here sober.

You lit the end of the pink joint and said, “I hate to admit it but… I think you were right D. I really did need this.” You took a hit and then passed it over to her.

“What? The joint? Or some quality time with your best friend?” she teased.

“Honestly, both.” The two of you burst into laughter at your blunt response, beginning to feel the high. Even after you finished smoking, you remained outside sitting on the steps. You had gotten so wrapped into conversation with each other that you almost forgot you were at a party. With the sudden realization you were still outside and the sound of Come Get Her playing on the speakers inside, you and Dina finally decided to get up and party.

That is, until Dina gets a call from her sister and has to step aside. You wait for her, leaning on the doorframe. As she talks there’s a serious look on her face. She finally finishes her conversation and looks to you to break the news.

“Y/n I’m really sorry, but I’ve gotta go. A family emergency came up and I gotta go help out my sister like right now.” You could tell by her tone that it was urgent and she genuinely felt bad for having to ditch you.

She continued, “but you, please stay. I think I just saw Ellie inside and I’m sure she’d be happy to party with you.” Not wanting to reveal your current situation with Ellie, you went along with it. You know Dina was only trying to help.

“Don't even worry about it D. I completely get it, family first. I love you.” you replied, bringing her in for a hug.

“Okay good, thank you for understanding babe. Byeee.” And with that, Dina was gone, and you were left to face this party alone. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was really Ellie that Dina had seen, or if she was just a little too high. Ellie didn’t seem like the frat party type, but honestly, neither did you. Even though you weren’t necessarily on speaking terms with her, you decided to go inside and look anyway.

That’s when you spot her with none other than Cat the cunt. She was hanging all over Ellie, it was almost gross. The sight left you sick and you straight-lined it to the alcohol to take a couple shots. Those couple of shots led to a couple more, and then a couple more as you watched Ellie and Cat practically suck each other’s faces off. You couldn’t stop staring though, it was almost sadistic.

Busy chaperoning the obnoxious couple, you managed to lose track of the amount of alcohol you were consuming. The nausea hit you like a truck and you stumbled to a dirty couch trying to deep breath through the churning of your stomach. A familiar voice interrupts your attempt at self-soothing.

“Y/n?” You look up at the sound of your name coming from your favorite person's mouth. As you opened yours to greet her, all that came out were chunks. Ellie jumped back, just missing the splash zone. Your throw up now soaked the frat house couch and the floor surrounding. And in front of Ellie? How embarrassing. While you were busy cursing yourself in your head for making such a scene, Ellie was cursing herself for not finding you sooner.

The idea of you drunk and all alone at a frat party scared her, and she was your protector. With that scenario flashing through her mind she scooped you into her arms and rushed you to the bathroom. The whole world was spinning as Ellie plopped you onto the floor in front of the toilet. She held back your hair and rubbed your back as you continued to vomit. You were already beginning to sober up as your body rid you of the intoxicating liquid. Ellie pushed at your baby hairs and wiped at the sweat collecting on your temples from the heaving. Despite everything, Ellie really did care for you. She couldn’t stand to see you in pain. And she couldn’t stand the thought of someone hurting you either.

“Come back to my bandmates with me. Please?” Ellie finally spoke.

Feeling the nausea dissipate, you responded, “thanks for your help but I think I’ll be fine just walking back to the dorm.”

“A drunk girl walking 20 minutes across campus, in the dark, alone??? That’s like the stupidest idea you’ve ever had.” Ellie hated how stubborn you were.

“I’m not even that drunk anymore,” you paused for a beat, “but fine. I’ll go with you.” Ellie sighed in relief. She put you under her arm and started leading you to the door. She was so warm and you felt so safe. As she walks outside, Ellie spots Cat and knows she’s in trouble. Ellie gently sits you down on the curb so she can go deal.

“Els, what the fuck is she doing here?” Cat spits as soon as Ellie is in listening distance.

“Listen Cat, I don’t know, but she’s really messed up and I can’t just leave her here.”

Cat raises her voice, louder this time, “what do you mean?? Are you really picking her over me?”

“I didn’t know I had to pick. Shes my fucking friend Cat.”

“But- but… I’m your girlfriend” she says, voice trembling with insecurity.

Ellie turns to leave the exhausted conversation, “it doesn’t work like that. I- I’ve gotta go now, we’ll talk about this later. I'm sorry.”

The next thing you know you’re sitting in a strangers kitchen and Ellie is force feeding you crackers and water, trying to sober you up. Just being there with her is already making you feel so much better. You talk and giggle through the night like you guys had never even fought. A sleeve of Saltines, 3 glasses of water, and 2 Advil later you’re beginning to feel a little more like your normal self.

This doesn’t stop Ellie from coddling you like a little baby for the rest of the night. She took off your makeup for you and even let you borrow the extra T-shirt she had brought in her backpack. You slipped into the bathroom to change into your makeshift pajamas. You stared back at your reflection in the mirror and couldn’t help but smile seeing yourself in nothing but Ellie’s baggy shirt. It was just like in your dreams; except now you were in her clothes for a different reason, not because you guys just finished having mind blowing sex. How unfortunate. You went back out into the living room and stood in front of Ellie.

“So uh, where should I sleep?” you asked with an awkward smile. Your shoulders shrunk in and you fidgeted with your charm bracelet as you waited for a response. The silence continued to drag out because Ellie was too busy imagining her own fantasies. Her heart fluttered as you stood there all coy in her shirt. She pictured you in the same exact outfit making pancakes for the both of you in the kitchen of your shared apartment. She imagined sneaking up behind you to feel your figure through the baggy clothes. She’d plant kisses all over your neck until you would finally turn around from your cooking to give her a real ki-

“Ellie..?”

Your words managed to drag her out of the fake scenario, “shit yeah um. This is a pull out couch so we can set you up there.” Ellie gestured to the couch in the middle of the room and then got up to pull it out. She fixed it up with sheets and a pillow provided by her generous bandmate who was in her bedroom just down the hall. You climbed into the covers and sat as you waited for Ellie to join you. Instead she set up on the floor next to you.

Confused with her behavior you stated, “you can sleep up here with me. You know that right?”

“I guess I kinda thought you wouldn’t want me to.” Ellie confessed, tilting her head down in shame.

“Of course I want you to Els.” She missed hearing you call her that, how could she refuse? Ellie climbed right into bed and there was an immediate increase in tension. The thought of you right beside her with just a shirt and panties drove Ellie wild. She felt like such a piece of shit for even thinking like that, but part of her wondered if you also felt the rising tension. You both lay on your sides, backs facing each other, when you finally disturb the loud silence.

“I missed you.”

“What do you mean? We live together.” Ellie wasn’t stupid though.

“You know what I mean Els.” you answered, voice breaking slightly. Ellie felt so guilty knowing that a lot of this mess was her own fault. She then shifted to face your back and tugged your hips into the space between her thighs and torso.

“I missed you too…” Ellie said against your neck, sending chills down your spine. Her arm reached past your waist and raised your T-shirt right below the start of your breasts. She took that same tattooed arm and wrapped it around your now bare tummy, pulling you in even closer. Her touch made you gasp.

Ellie was a pretty skinny girl but she was strong, you could see it in her arms, the way they flexed when she played guitar or lifted something. But, when you visualized her touch, you had never imagined it being this soft. You practically melted feeling her skin brush against yours. An ache was radiating between your legs as you clenched your thighs together in agony. You wanted her hands in places other than your plush stomach. Ellie did too, but you were coming down from being completely wasted, and she was still with Cat. It just wasn’t right.

The rest of the night you remained in the same position in fear of losing each other’s touch, but aware that nothing more would happen. Then, that morning, you woke to no touch. Ellie was already gone, and your heart broke all over again. Her guilt had taken over after Cat sent a string of texts expressing her insecurity in the relationship. She explained to Ellie that she didn’t feel loved or important because of her favoring towards you. And Cat was right, Ellie did favor you. She was trying so hard to be “good” and ignore her feelings, trying not to be a cheater, but she was hurting you (the one she truly loves) in the process. Why couldn’t she just let go of Cat? Would you ever experience a night like that with her again?

← masterlist ⭑ part 4 →

taglist ☆...

@gold-dustwomxn @robinismywifee @kitty356sworld

(P.S: for future reference, if you'd like to be tagged in the next part plz make sure you have your age visible somewhere on your profile. my blog and writing contains 18+ content and minors should not be anywhere near it. obviously there's only so much i can do but checking accounts who interact is the one thing in my control so yeah. much love-- lola ♡

434 notes · View notes

artzee-bee · 1 year

Text

Forever my love | Adrien Agreste x reader

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Requested by @oyasumimosura

Summary: friends to strangers to lovers with a no-so-happy ending

Genre: some fluff, angst

Warnings: canon typical violence (maybe tuned up a notch tho), death

A/N: my google doc for this piece is 10 pages long and it’s went through at least 4 alternate endings before getting here. I got this request months ago and have been working on it since, whenever I can. I hope this is alright because it’s been a journey...

~~~

There was no ‘first memory’ with you. Not one that would come to Adrien’s mind anyways. It felt like you had simply always been in his life. The only thing he remembered was you and your mother, entering the Agreste mansion as if it was your own, almost every Sunday. His mom would welcome both of you with wide arms and offer you tea, and biscuits, which you would snuck to Adrien’s room. Your favorite have always been the ones with strawberry jam filling.

And then you’d play for hours! Building fortresses out of chairs and pillows, racing toy cars around the room, saving plush animals from the imminent danger of Adrien’s rocketship and so on. Not a single moment spent with you felt boring! Your presence was addictive, the joy, the excitement you brought with yourself every time was something Adrien couldn’t understand at the time but now, as an adult looking back, he could easily recognise it as love.

But the world has its own way of never quite letting you be happy enough. The memory of your last playdate, as well as the day his parents told him you were moving away, were very hazy and unclear. For years he refused to revisit them, the sorrow too great for his young, immature self to know how to handle. Now, there was only one sentence he could remember you saying, clear as day. One promise that gave him more hope than he could put in words. “We’ll keep in touch”.

You exchanged letters the whole time you were away!! Of course, they could never be a substitute for the time spent together but Adrien learned to appreciate them deeply. He took his time responding to each of them and always nervously awaited your response. Years went on like that! Every summer you’d promise to visit and every time Adrien would have the displeasure of having to read, in your flawless and delicate handwriting, that your parents canceled the trip for whatever reason.

Eventually, he decided it was best to move on. In the time you had been gone many things changed: he grew up, got big in the fashion industry, started school, became the new black cat miraculous holder, made friends! His life became overwhelmingly busy and the precious memories you made together faded away without notice. He found joy in other things and in his new friends! Your letters no longer brought the excitement they once did and consequently, he always postponed replying until eventually, it all stopped.

Much to Adrien’s shock, almost exactly a year after losing contact, he saw you! He had been transformed at the time, having just finished defeating an akuma when he saw you exiting a coffee shop down the street. He couldn’t believe his eyes and had it not been for the alarming beeping of his miraculous, he probably would have stayed petrified on top of that roof much longer. Once detransformed, he tried to go looking for you but to no avail.

It wasn’t until a week later that he finally got to talk to you again. Natalie reached out to your family and arranged for you two to meet. That Friday afternoon, you had lunch at a pizza place that you didn’t recognise. He looked the same. Same innocent glimmer in his eyes and ecstatic voice. It almost weirded you out how much it seemed this boy never changed. But of course, you weren’t right. Many things have changed.

Adrien tried his best to be open and friendly. To him, it felt like no time had passed at all, but you were so quiet and shy. A subtle frown was visible on your face from the moment you arrived and you barely looked him in the eyes. The air around you felt thick with discomfort, which was extremely frustrating to Adrien. He wanted to ask what’s wrong but found it so difficult to speak his mind until, eventually, you opened up yourself.

“Why did you stop writing?” your voice didn’t betray any feeling of anger or sadness and yet, Adrien was instantly washed over with guilt

“I’m sorry. I wanted to but…”

“Was I not worth it?”

“What?” Adrien couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, but you were just as still and cold as before

“Because, you see, when we were kids you were one of the most important people in my life. You were my best friend and I honestly thought we would never ever be apart! No one could ever break us up! And I put everything I had into not losing that, convinced that you’d do the same for me! Because your friendship was worth more to me than any number of kilometers between us!” your words fell out quickly and stung him “Was I not worth fighting for, Adrien?”

He didn’t know what to say! He wanted to tell you he was just stupid and made a grave mistake. That you were more than worth it, but the words were stuck in his throat.

You didn’t speak after that. Adrien was heartbroken but figured you were already so mad at him, it would only make it worse if he kept pestering you on.

Eventually, one night, after patrol, he saw you! It was already way after dark and you were just strolling down the street all alone. A sense of anxiety overtook him and he knew he couldn’t go home just yet

“Good evening pretty lady!” he greeted you, full of glee. “The streets can get pretty nasty this late at night, y’know? Hope you don’t mind if this street cat walks alongside you for a while.”

“Hello Chat Noir!” your voice was so smooth and warm “ I’d really love that. I was actually quite uncomfortable walking alone.” “Well then, fear not!The bravest and strongest hero in all of Paris is right here at your service! Did I also mention the most charming?” you giggled to his silliness

Adrien was ecstatic to get to talk to you again, like old times. He finally felt like he got his friend back! He didn’t even realize how big of a hole your absence had left in his life. After that night, he would accompany you everyday on your evening walks and, soon enough, you began hanging out at your house. Oftentimes he would knock on your bedroom window shortly after you got home from school and more often than not, he would spend hours at your place. You did almost everything together from playing video games to watching movies, cooking, gossiping. He would tell you all the fun stories he had with Ladybug from their patrols and would blush a little when you began laughing uncontrollably. It was just too cute.

With all this joy, still there was an ounce of pain at the idea that you didn’t know who you were really talking to. Almost every time you called him Chat, his heart would sting a little. He liked being Chat Noir. He loved it even. With you however, it just felt like one big lie he could do nothing about. He wanted you to look at him and see the boy from all those years ago. To look at him and call him by his name. To rejoice in old memories, instead of him having to pretend he hears the story for the first time. Adrien couldn’t help but feel like he was betraying you by simply being here, knowing how mad you were with his civilian self. When those thoughts got to him, he felt more alone than ever, but you almost always picked up on it

“What’s wrong?” you would ask and the sweetness of your voice ran like ice down his body. You would not be this kind if you knew

“Absolutely nothing, I am doing wonderful” he’d say through gritted teeth

“Sit down and talk to me!”

“I can’t. It’s personal” which you knew really meant “It would put my identity in danger”

So you would shut up. You’d make tea or let him have the last cookie as a sign of solidarity. To let him know you still cared. Sometimes he would ask you for hugs, which you would indulge him in. You’d wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tight to your chest, trying to convey all the love and care you had for him in that one gesture. Almost always, the hero would melt into your embrace as if he’d never been held before. His head would rest on your shoulder and his blonde locks tickled your neck and cheek.

Confessing to you was the biggest risk he ever took, which meant a lot considering his occupation. It happened after yet another game of cards lost by Chat. It had been what felt like his 15th loss of the night and in a futile attempt to protect his remaining dignity, he slipped

“You’re only winning cause I love you too much to let you lose!” the cocky attitude dropped instantly as he processed his choice of words. You were just looking at him, a little quizzingly, unsure if you heard him right.

“Do you mean that?”

“I do”

The brightest smile overtook your features instantly “Good. I love you too!”

It was difficult for a long time. The secret identity issue became even greater with the new level of intimacy that was expected with the start of a romantic relationship. On top of that, Adrien was pretty clueless. You were his first girlfriend, the first girl he ever fell in love with, the pressure was high. He wanted to be the best boyfriend there was! He brought you many gifts, big and small. He spent as much time with you as he could, he always told you just how much you actually meant to him. The blush on your cheeks and the witty comebacks made him melt through his seat every time and with every happy memory he made with you came the unmistakable pain of never really being completely honest with you. On one of your sleepovers, the feelings were overwhelming Chat more than he thought was possible

“What’s going on Chat?”

“Nothing darling. Just tired”

“Come on, you know you can’t fool me! You’ve been quiet all night, it’s really unlike you”

Adrien’s mind went empty when you sat on the floor in front of him, lightly running your fingers over his leather clad ones. The trust and love in your eyes was so mesmerizing. No one had ever looked at him like that and for a split second he imagined your reaction if you knew who he was. He wondered if you’d kick him out. Break up with him here and now and never want anything to do with him ever again. He imagined the anger in your voice, the betrayal. And then, he considered, briefly, a different option. A scenario in which you’d hug him tight and kiss the top of his head, and there’d be no more lies. No more secrets, no more of these impossible feelings that were tormenting him. That smile, that bliss, engulfed his mind and he felt powerless in the face of hope.

“I’m sorry” he said weakly

“For what?” and before he could think for another second, talk himself out or consider the consequences of his actions, he did the only thing he felt was logical

“Plagg, claws in”

When the green light vanished and Adrien found himself back in his normal clothes, he didn’t muster to look at your face

“Chat, what are you doing?” finally, he glanced up, only to find you curled up on the ground, with your hands over your eyes. You hadn’t seen him

“It’s ok.”

“You detransformed?”

“Yes…”

“Chat you can’t do that.”

“I want you to see me” he tried to sound confident, but it came out almost as a plea.

“What about Ladybug?”

“I’ll deal with her later. It’s ok. I swear”

“Chat…”

“Please”

Adriean reached out to pull your hands away from your face, but your eyes were still closed

“Chat?”

“Yes?”

“Before I look, I want you to know that I love you regardless of who you are. If you’re doing this because you think I can’t love you fully without knowing your identity, if you’re doing this for me, please know that this won’t change anything. I want you to be comfortable with this, ok?” Adrien blushed, feeling tears well up in his eyes

“I want to do this” he kissed your knuckles “if that’s ok with you”

Slowly, you opened your eyes and Adrien felt his heart beating out of his chest. Your face went soft and your eyes welled up with tears and you looked at eachother. You couldn’t muster a word and neither could he. He took this as you being disappointed and let go of your hand, only for you to grab it once more, much harder than before. Finally, tears came rolling down your cheeks, as you whispered a simple “I love you”

That night, neither of you could stop crying. The liberation of all secrets and all lies felt divine and finally, Adrien felt like he was 100% safe for the first time in his life.

Many things changed after that. Adrien got a serious scolding from Ladybug, since he couldn’t lie to her about what he’s done. She wasn’t as mad as he expected her to be, so in the end it was all worth it when you began showing up to the Agreste mansion to hang out. It was hard for Adrien to find time to spend with her during the day but Natalie was always so understanding of their relationship and tried her best to squeeze in an hour or two here and there for you! Now, Adrien could hold your hand and take you to his photoshoots. You facetimed more often and it finally felt like you got the relationship you were always meant to have.

~~~

Paris looked beautiful from the top of the Eiffel tower. Chat took you here many times before. It felt so romantic being up there with your best friend, the boy of your dreams! You felt so powerful looking down at all the lights and cars passing by and at the same time so protected by his tight grip around your waist. Nothing could hurt you if he was there, with or without the costume! But the arms holding you now were much slimmer and much less concerned with your safety. You knew you shouldn’t look down from the edge you were standing on but it was so hard not to. Lila was manic next to you, laughing and shouting about her imminent victory, taunting the two superheroes that were struggling to catch up.The tiny robots Lila could control with her powers had kept Ladybug and Chat Noir busy for just enough time to allow the akumatized girl to take you with her, away from the scene and up here.

“Be careful with what you do next Ladybug, otherwise the girl gets it!” the taunting manner in which she spoke felt hardly like Lila. You never found her to be a particularly pleasant person to be around but the malice with which she spoke now was so unusual!

She kicked your shin, making one of your legs drop off the edge. Had it not been for her holding onto your forearm, you would have dropped. You could see Ladybug and Chat approaching but they were so far away and it felt like they were moving so slowly. A cry ripped through your chest as you hung there, your life in the hands of this girl you couldn’t even recognise anymore.You were trying to pull yourself back on the ledge with your other foot before she kicked that one too, swinging you in the air by your arm.

“Oh oh, but you’re so far away little Bug? Whatever are you gonna do if my hand …slips?” she let go with a chuckle.

Chat couldn’t see anything around him anymore, all he saw was your helpless body falling from the sky! He screamed your name but he was still so far! Ladybug threw her yoyo, trying to form a net below you, but the speed at which you were falling was much greater than anybody expected. You fell right through the net, breaking it to pieces and hit the ground with a hard thud. Chat screamed, Ladybug was speechless, all the while Lila was laughing on her way down!

“Chat, get her! I’ll handle Lila!”

That’s all it took. Chat was looking down at your unconscious form before he knew it. You were so bloody and so limp in his arms.

“Don’t!” you whispered when he tried to pick you up

“It’s not safe for you here, I need to hide you away!” he almost screamed, too relieved to see you alive to be able to control himself

“It’s over Chat!”

“Don’t talk like that! You will be ok! I will make you ok!”

“I’m tired…”

“No, don’t do it! Focus on me, focus on my voice! Can you see me?”

“You have to protect the people…”

“You are the only one I have to protect! I’m sorry I wasn’t there to catch you, I’m sorry! Please! Please let me protect you!” tears were streaming down his face and he found himself thinking that he would sell his soul to switch places with you

“Chat, I love you” you said through your own tears

“Don’t say goodbye!”

“I’m not”

“I love you Y/N! I love you so much, please don’t leave me alone! I can still save you!” he laid his head on your chest, not believing his own words

“I’ll always love you Adrian!” you whispered in his ear, kissing his temple with the last of your powers

~~~

“You need to hurry up, Adrian needs to be at a press conference across town in one hour and we’re already behind schedule because of you!”

“Nathalie, stop that! Everyone is doing their best here.”

“This photoshoot was supposed to be over already!”

“Maybe you should go have some water while you wait, yeah?” Adrien was trying to be nice but he felt really bad about the way Nathalie was speaking to the makeup artist. He knew they were very busy and Nath was under a great deal of stress but still, he felt it wasn’t fair to the girls working hard to get him ready.

“I’m sorry about that! She’s a lovely person, it’s just the last couple of days have been really hard for her”

“Oh, it’s alright, sir. Trust me I’ve seen much worse before” the young girl replied “Plus, I would imagine that making the switch to become a full time model would bring on a lot more responsibilities on her side.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Adrien chuckled. “If you would have told me last year, when I was still in school, that my schedule would be even more packed as a graduate, I would have probably given up modeling then and there. Now I just deal with it.”

Adrien observed himself in the mirror, thinking back to his high school days. He tried to remember what he looked like, although that was very difficult. He knew his hair was much longer now, reaching just below his chin. He thought his face was a bit slimmer and many people told him he put on a healthy amount of muscle in the last couple of months, but he was still himself, just 20.

“If you don’t mind sir, we need the first couple of buttons of your shirt undone for the next set. I will add a little contour to the collarbones and then we’re done”

Said and done, with the first few buttons open he looked even more manly than before.

“Um, I think we should take the necklace off if you don’t mind…”

Eyes shot down to his chest, where a tiny silver ring on a chain hung, barely glistening in the lights around.

“Yes, that’s alright” he said, although he never liked taking it off. There was always a worry in the back of his hand about misplacing it or something and the thought was simply unbearable, but he understood.

“That’s a very beautiful piece of jewelry”

“Thank you!” he looked down at the ring twirling it between his fingers. It was so simple, he wasn’t used to receiving compliments on it, even from the select few that got to see it. A simple golden band with a round diamond in the middle. It was so small for him, he could never get it more than halfway down his ring finger. “It belonged to somebody I cared a lot about.” He remembered how hard he worked to get your ring size, all those years ago. It was difficult to do it behind your back, since you had always been so good at reading his body language, you always knew when he was up to something. He remembered all those nights spent on the internet, looking for the perfect ring for you! He knew it needed to be simple but sometimes it was so hard to talk himself out of buying one of the big and glamorous ones. He just wanted to spoil you rotten and if he didn’t take the chance to do that when he was buying your engagement ring, then when would he? Finally, after weeks, he finally found this one and fell in love. It was perfect for you and you were gonna love it. The day it arrived was one of the most exciting times he experienced in the last decade, he could still feel his heart pumping now, at the memory.

“They can’t wear it anymore so I just keep it!” in fact, you had never even gotten the chance to try it on, but those details don’t need to be shared. Still, thinking about the incident, taking place only 2 weeks after he got the ring, hurts him to no end. He was planning the perfect engagement, a grand romantic gesture to make all your dreams come true but now he felt sorrow and regret, wishing he would have simply ran to your door the same day that package was delivered to ask you. At least then you would have known, you would have had the chance to say yes.

“I’m sure they were an incredible person” Adrien only nodded to that “Well, you’re all done, you can head to the set now”

“Thank you, I’ll just drop this off to Nathalie and go”

The pain of not having you around would never go away, Adian had accepted that as a fact! You would always be there for any anniversary or birthday, achievement or simply on lazy days when his mind would wonder. Nothing made the sting of not being able to hold your hand go away but at least the ring, your ring, would comfort him in those moments.

#miraculous ladybug #mlb fanfic #mlb x reader #mlb headcanons #adrien agreste #adrien agreste x reader #adrien agreste imagine #adrien agreste angst #adrien agreste headcanons #adrien agreste fluff #chat noir #chat noir imagine #chat noir x reader #chat noir angst #chat noir fluff

601 notes · View notes

snowwolflover · 9 months

Text

@nodin

The Day my wife started putting me in my place.

My wife and I had been together for a few years now, to be honest she was the head of the house and often told me what to do. We had planned a trip with some friends to go to Las Vegas and the day had finally come for us all to get on the plane. I had to work all week and even worked late the night before we left so although it annoyed my wife she did all the packing for our trip to make sure we were ready to. We all meet up at the air port and went to our gate. Just before we boarded the plan my wife told me I needed to swap tickets with one of her single friends who was coming with us because they wanted to sit together so they could talk. Her friend had gotten her ticket at the last minute and was not able to get a first class ticket like the rest of us so she was in coach. I did as I was told and we boarded the plan. I was now in the very back row of the plan while my wife, her friends and there husbands all sat up in first class. Once we all landed we got 2 big SUVs for the all of us to fit in since there were 4 couples and the single friend. We made out way to the Airbnb we had gotten and soon pulled in to the driver, it looked very nice and was only minutes from the strip. Once we all went inside everyone looked around and picked out which rooms we where taking, John and Kim took the Master bedroom. Steven and Lisa took the room just across the hall. Amanda (the single friend) took a small room just off the living room and Todd and Sandy took the last room over by the front door. My wife and I were able to take the attached "next gen" sweet that had its own master bed room, small living room and kitchenette. It was very nice because we were with everyone else but still had our own space. We all had planned to take some time settling in and then go get some dinner. I brought in our suitcases and started to get ready to put everything away but my wife stopped me, she told me she wanted to talk to me. She said that since I have been disappointing her lately and crying about everything she had something for me and point to a small suitcase that we had brought. I reach for the bag to open it up and see what she was talking about...

What is this for I asked. She told me she expected me to put one on right now and that I would be wearing them the whole trip unless I was told otherwise. I started to fight it but she slapped me and told me since I was such a sissy and a baby I needed to wear them and then made me remove my pants and underwear and put them one on right then. Once I had it on she told me to get everything else out away right now, and don't take to long. She was hungry! With that she walked back in to the main house and left me standing there. I started to get to work on putting everything away.

A little while later she came walking back in to our room and called out "hey sissy, are you done yet". I was in shocked that she yelled that out like that. She had called me that a few times before but this just felt different. She walked in to the room with Lisa in toe and again asked is it done yet. I turned and saw both of them standing there and jumped a bit that she would bring her friend in while I was in a diaper like this and out of instinct I tried to cover up. "Knock it off, sissy baby. No one in the house cares what your wearing. Now are you done we want to get food." I let her know I was not done yet but would be soon. She told me that they were all tiers of waiting and that they were just going to get food and would bring me something back I can stay and put everything away since they would be right back. With that she walked out and then I heard the cars pull out and leave. About a minute later I got a message saying that I needed to go help put away everyone else's stuff to since they didn't get to finish ether because they were to hungry. Me head dropped a bit from the new I was going to have to do this for everyone then a second message came in. This time it said I was not allowed to put pants back on while she was gone and not to remove that diaper for any reason. Also they had decided to go to a nice restaurant and would be back after. Almost in tears by this point I did as I was told and started on my long task of putting things away for everyone. It was hours later before they made it home. I was sitting in our small living room watching TV by that point and my diaper had gotten pretty wet by now. My wife had walked in and let me know dinner was great and that they had food for me on the main house. She walked over and told me she wanted to see my diaper. I stood up and she could see the sag of it and laughed at me. I asked if I could change now and she said yes but I had to do it because she didn't want to touch me like that. I got myself all cleaned up and we headed back in the main house. This time she did let me have pants on too. We got to the kitchen and I saw a jack in the box bag sitting on the counter for me. Again my heart sank seeing that was all I got but I was hungry. As I sat down and started to eat Amanda came in to the living room yelling that I made a mess of all her things and didn't seem to know how to put things away correctly. My wife stopped her and looked at me. "You had better get your butt in there and fix it now! Then check the other rooms and make sure they are done correctly too!' I set down the rest of my food and followed Amanda to the room and asked her what I had done wrong. She said things were not folded up nice and that i mixed up the order of things in the drawers, also her bathroom supply were not in there correctly. I spend the next hour going room to room asking each of the lady's what needed to be fixed and doing it for them as everyone else sat out by the pool drinking. Once I had completed that I went to get my food only to find they had already tossed it out as they "didn't want a mess in the kitchen". My wife asked if I was finally done putting everything away and I let her know yes I was. She said good but since I upset everyone but not doing it right I needed to be delt with. She dragged me in the house and made me stand in time out with my shorts off again.

This was so humiliating as everyone else was having fun and drinking but I had to stay just like this. I could over hear them talk and partying outside and they were starting to get wild. My wife came back in about 30 mins later and told me to go to bed. She was had gotten all worked up and was going to spend some more time with Todd and Sandy before bed. I got up and went to the room happy to just be out of sight from everyone and I went to bed. What did she mean spend more time with them because she was worked up I wondered. I got in bed and laid for a little while before I feel asleep. When I woke up the next morning my wife was not in bed. I got up and went looking for her in our living room and still couldn't find her. I got dressed and walked back in the main house still looking around but didn't see her. I was worried so I text her to see where she was. I heard the phone ring from the message and it came.out of the room by the front door where Todd and Sandy were staying. Then I got a reply back telling me to go clean up the back yard and she would be out shortly. Again I did as I was told and picked up the beer bottles and margaritas glasses that had been left out there. When I was done I went back in the house and waited for a few minutes. My wife and Sandy came out of the room laughing and talking, Neither of them were wearing any clothes. They were saying how much fun they had last night and this trip is already amazing. I was surprised to see them like that. My wife looked at me and told me to go in the room and strip the bed for them and wash the sheet. I quickly did as she asked to not upset her. I walked into the room and Todd was standing there getting ready to head to take a shower. He had a towel in his hand and nothing else on. He was fully erect and looked at me and said "she was great" and gave me a wink as he walked out of the room. I.looked at the bed and saw condom wrappers on it and even a used condom that was taken off and just left there. I called for my wife and she walked over and asked me what I wanted with an irritated tone. "Did you..." I asked pointing at the mess. "YES we all did have sex last night and again this morning. I need to have some real enjoy some times. I need a real man. Do you have a problem with that?" I was stunned. "Get the bed stripped and get it in the wash now sissy... And take off those shorts too. No more covering that fucking diaper." She snapped as she walked away. I stripped the bed and took it to be washed

As I was doing that I could hear them all in the shower. Was this what the trip was going to be? Was I just hear to clean up after everyone? Was my wife going to be having sex with the other? What am I doing?

219 notes · View notes

duchess-of-oldtown · 1 year

Text

The thing about Stannis that people often forget that he was only 17 when Robert's Rebellion started. His parents are dead, his older brother who was meant to be in charge and head of the family has practically abandoned him with all the responsibilities of being Lord of Storm's End, being head of the family and raising Renly who was 3 or 4 at this time. He's seventeen and all of a sudden he has to make a choice between what he knows is the "right" thing to do which is staying loyal to the Crown or standing with his brother, who he no doubt loves despite his later declaration in ACOK. He's seventeen and there's an army outside the walls, everybody inside those walls has to rely on him when he knows that they really want Robert, he is in charge when doubtless he wants Robert back. He's the one who is meant to be in charge after all, the one with the experience, he's only 17. He has to watch Renly grow thinner and thinner, likely going without food himself just to give Renly an extra mouthful here and there. He has to see people turn on House Baratheon from inside the castle, probably knowing them all his life. He has to punish them or end up looking weak, he can't afford weakness. Not when there are hundreds depending on him. And Robert. He's depending on him too, afterall. Then comes the news that Rhaegar is dead, King's Landing is Robert's and he's King now. Weeks later, Stannis gets news that the Siege is about to be lifted. Doubtless he looks out over the walls and sees who has come to save him. It's not Robert. It's Ned Stark, who Robert went to war with, who Robert sees as a brother, far more than he's ever treated Stannis. And even then Stark has to run off for another duty, leaving Stannis to deal with Storm's Ends recovery. Then when things are settled, the Baratheons unite. Robert has a task for Stannis rather than a thank you or an apology. Stannis grits his teeth and gets on with it. He fails to capture the last Targaryens. He returns only to hear Robert's grumbles. And when comes time for dealing with succession, Renly- who is only a child - gets Storm's End. Stannis gets Dragonstone, the reminder of his failure not his achievements. It breaks Stannis's trust in Robert. In the following years, Robert becomes more and more of a disappointment. He beds Delena Florent at Stannis's wedding ruining the nuptials which are nothing more to Stannis than a political move no doubt recommended by Jon Arryn. He becomes more lazy, more distant, less and less of somebody to look up. To make matters worse, Renly who Stannis protected, starved for and practically raised, still looks up to Robert, pushing Stannis away. By AGOT, Stannis is isolated by his own House, trapped in a loveless marriage, weighed down by duties he never asked for, responsibilities that he has to shoulder because Robert won't, crushed under the knowledge of the Lannister Twincest and its repercussions and he's just been pushed aside again by Ned Stark, this stranger who Robert idolises so much. Its the last straw so he leaves. Months later, Robert is dead, Renly is at the heart of trouble and the Realm is bleeding again. Stannis declares himself King, not only because Melisandre wraps the shroud of messiah around him or he really feels any sort of higher calling or ambition. He does it because that's what he does, he cleaned up Robert's messes, he steps into Robert's shoes and does his duty. Just has he's been doing since he was just a child.

522 notes · View notes

emhasthoughts · 6 months

Text

Gertrude and the cat-avatars

Summary: Gertrude let one cat in. Said cat has a habit of bringing in other cats.

A/N: During @dcartcorner's stream the topic of avatars as cats came up and I decided to write a little something for it. I have another part with the Distortions that might be posted later. Also worth noting: I do not own a cat, never have, I'm horrible with cat breeds, so I've tried to describe Simon/Peter/Elias through this art and Mike's look is taken from this

Lastly: Not beta read by someone else, just me and my lil google document.

Pt 1, You're here! / Pt 2, Michael and Helen Distortion, Agnes / Pt 3, Annabelle, Jude, Oliver / Pt 4, John, Jane, Maxwell, Manuela / Pt 5, Jon, Martin, Sasha, Tim / Pt 6, Melanie, Daisy, Basira, Georgie / Pt 7, Jared, Gerry, Nikola / Bonus, a visit to the vet / Halloween bonus!

Simon was the first cat she actually adopted. It had been one of her coworkers who had wanted to get rid of him due to their financial situation and asked Gertrude about it. Claiming that he was old and an inside cat, easy to take care of. She had agreed. Thinking it would be easy and that, in the worst case, Simon would not live for long after getting him. She could not have been more wrong.

Sometimes he could have passed as a kitten. Rather small for what he was meant to be, thin despite the amount of food he ate, his gray fur was not fluffy enough to hide how thin he could look. Despite it all, the veterinarian had claimed him healthy. He was also not that much of an indoor cat. Sometimes, whenever he felt like it, he would wander out of the house, sometimes gone for days. Gertrude did not mind it that much. He was a rather loud and talkative cat after all.

Simon also had a habit of getting more cats to her doorstep.

One day she opened the door to see small Simon standing proudly in the middle of two new cats. One looked nearly ridiculous next to him. Light beige and at least three times bigger and fluffier, with yellow eyes that sort of made it look like he did not want to be there. To the other side was a mainly brown cat, who seemed to be in a perfect middle of size and fluff. A bit of white around the eyes, nose, stomach and paws. He looked at her with judgemental green eyes and for a moment she worried if a cat could actually see into someone’s soul. Since they kept coming back she had named the two Peter, the fluffy cat and the other Elias.

Peter came and went. Similarly to Simon, he could be gone for days, maybe even weeks. Whenever he was home he was with Elias and/or Simon, being quiet and calm. Elias was probably the most judgemental cat she had ever come across. He was not really loud or overly talkative, but he could spend hours in a corner just looking at her without blinking. It was a bit creepy and sometimes it felt like he was secretly planning to kill her in her sleep.

Four months ago Simon was gone for a week, only to come back in with a very disgruntled cat. Looking rather similar to Peter, though smaller, thinner bit of brown around the eyes, paws, tip of ears and tail, including a branching scar most visible on the back. Despite the cat not being a small kitten, Simon still managed to drag them there. The cat had seemingly accepted its fate, making Gertrude question how far from home they were.

She had taken the cat to a veterinarian the day after. It was a male, named Mike, who had once belonged to a couple that passed two years before in a house fire. The scar was older, though it had gotten infected over the two years. She had gotten more of a rundown of everything that was wrong with Mike and she planned to simply let him up for adoption, except Simon did not seem to leave Mike’s side. So, Gertrude accepted Mike in. If only until he was healthy again, by then Simon would hopefully be over it.

Since then Gertrude had tried to throw Mike back on the streets while Simon was away. Except the pair kept coming back. Which caused her current situation. Sitting on her sofa, trying to watch TV, except she found herself staring at Mike, who had made himself comfortable on the shelf next to a vase, glaring back at her. His paw slowly raising towards the vase, never breaking eye contact. Gertrude narrowed her eyes. Until -

There was no crash. The vase was no longer on the shelf but it was also not shattered on the ground. Her eyes did not leave the falling - flying? - vase. It did not really stop the small cat from glaring at her.

Gertrude had no real clue how long it was like that. The vase floating on the spot, her looking at the vase and Mike glaring at her. Like a picture, frozen in time. At least until -

CRASH

Well fuck.

#mike crew #simon fairchild #peter lukas #elias bouchard #gertrude robinson #cat avatars #mention of past fire #very brief mention of death #tell me if I should add anything

93 notes · View notes

sammy8d257 · 3 months

Text

In the Week that Follows - Chap. 2: Day 1 - Cleaning (part 3)

An AvM fanfic Written by Sammy8D257

Part of the Watered Down Hot Chocolate Series

Cover Art / Day 0 / Day 1: 1 - 2 - 3 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5 / Day 6 / Day 7 / Day 8

Chapter Word Count: 4740

Characters: King (He/Him), Purple (They/Them), (Only mentioned but Gold uses They/Them)

CW for this Chapter Part: Unhealthy coping mechanisms, Self-Hatred, Minor Swearing, King's Anger Issues, Poor Mental Health, allusions to unhealthy eating habits

[AO3 vers. (Full Chapter)]

(BRO I SWEAR I DID NOT MEAN FOR IT TO TAKE THIS LONG TO FINISH THIS CHAPTER. God I'm just happy its finally out now. I can't believe Day 1 is almost 4x the size of Day 0. alkslgjsdkgdls [head in hands] I hope you guys enjoy this!)

= O = o =

It was a little past 2 pm by the time they both were done eating.

King finished last and took the initiative to add their bowls to the pile in the sink. He made a mental note to rinse off the dishes and throw them into the dishwasher later. Turning back towards the table, King watched Purple place the now empty container back into their pink tote. A satisfied smile was on their face and King could feel it mirrored on his own.

"Sooo…" Purple glanced back at him as King spoke. "What now?"

"Now?" The younger stick said as they straightened and fully turned to face the other. "Now it's time to do the second part."

King tilted his head in confusion. "Which is?"

"I'm going to help you clean your house."

"Oh," The orange stick paused, the statement not fully registering. "Wait, you are?"

Purple nodded. "Of course. I can't just leave you to clean your entire house by yourself."

And at that, King just nodded. Really, he should have expected this to be Purple's response. With how dedicated they were to helping him, he should have assumed it would also extend towards his home as well.

"Yeah, okay that's," King stole a glance at the full sink at his back. "That would be nice. Thank you."

A smile so bright, King could have sworn the entire room got lighter, lit Purple's face at his words. After a moment, the younger stick figure coughed into their fist, their expression returning to something more neutral, but King could see the corners of their mouth were turned upwards.

"Right, ahem- So, I was thinking we could start by clearing out the easy stuff first," Purple made a hand wave gesture in the air. "You know, like all those books and stuff on the ground? We should organize those first before we clean anything else."

King nodded slowly as Purple explained their thoughts. Overall, it was a solid plan and a pretty easy one at that. Although the effects of the painkillers have since kicked in, King was still pretty tired and sore from the previous day. And Purple was right. The main room of the house was a mess of failed experiments, boxes, papers, and books. It would need to be cleared out first before any additional cleaning could take place. And really, it wouldn't take that much physical effort to organize through what could be kept and what could be discarded. At most, it would take a bit to gather everything.

With a final nod, King loosely crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. "That sounds like a great idea."

Again, a grin broke out on Purple's face and they patted their pink tote once before taking a step towards King.

"Then let's get started."

Armed with a plan, clearing the main room goes incredibly well with various jobs being split between them. While King gathered all the discarded staff prototypes and welding tools, Purple went around the room collecting any easily picked up items. These ranged from small boxes to books to stacks of paper. Luckily for the two of them, objects like the daggers and the welding equipment that were strewn about the floor, were previously stowed away during the time Purple spent under King. The blanket that originally housed the pile of medical supplies was cleared away (King's bed becoming its temporary holding spot) and the piles of metal and books took its place.

From there, the pair set about organizing through their respective piles. The staffs were sorted into reusable scrap metal, sellable scrap metal, and trash. Although Purple had no knowledge of experience in the field, King occasionally asked their opinion on the viability of some metals.

"What do you think about this one?"

"Oh! Um, it's a very nice blue color! If you can't reuse it for anything, maybe you can get more for it because it's pretty?"

"Hmm… Probably not, unfortunately. It's painted aluminum. It might not sell as well but it should still be worth something."

Likewise, from their seat on the floor, Purple sorted through the stacks of books King had collected throughout the year. Originally, Purple had planned to just gather all the books and then place them on the bookshelf for future King to sort through, but upon picking up a book with a very clear library sticker along its spine, a separate pile was quickly formed.

King to his credit, looked incredibly embarrassed as Purple held a library copy of Welding for Dummies in the air.

"In my defense, I forgot I went there."

"Uh huh, and how long have you had these for?"

"Uh-"

"King."

"Only a couple of months-"

"King-"

"-to maybe a year?"

"King! That's a really long time!"

"I know! I know! I mean, hopefully if the book is still fine, we can return it and only have to pay the late fees and not the replacement costs!"

"Hmmm… let's just see how many there are."

By the time both of their original piles were gone and sorted, a couple of hours had passed. The afternoon sun still shone through the window casting the room in a warm glow.

King's pile of sellable scrap was not as large in comparison to his other piles of trash and parts that could be reused in future projects. Those piles contained bits of combined metal that King created in his attempts at making the perfect staff, so it made sense why the scrap yards probably wouldn't buy it from them. Though, despite the sellable pile being smaller, King reassured both Purple and himself that it would be enough to sell for a decent sum of money.

On the other side, Purple ended up with a stack of about 9 returnable and two damaged library books (turns out oil and burn marks are hard to get out of paper). Next to it was another stack of books that King owned and two boxes that Purple used to hold all the research paper found in the room. It was decided that the library books needed to be returned regardless of their physical status and to get their fees paid.

The two of them sat back and took a moment to admire their work.

"Huh, well that wasn't too bad," King remarked, stretching out his back to release some tension. "And it only took us until… 6:30?!"

King's mouth hung open in shock. True to his words, the clock's keys pointed a little past the half hour mark.

"Huh… I guess so," Purple squinted up at the clock before turning towards King. "I'd say it's about dinner time, right?"

The older stick figure blinked, taking a moment to register the other's question before nodding. Despite having eaten hours ago, all the manual labor had worked up an appetite in him.

Purple tapped their chin. "We already finished all the food I brought. So how about you wash up and I can get started on something to eat?"

A noise of protest sounded from King but was almost immediately shushed as Purple stood up. They had a sheepish look on their face.

"Don't worry about it. I like cooking! Plus uh…" Their eyes landed on King's hands and grimaced. "You've been touching metal for the past few hours. I don't think you should be handling food right now."

An embarrassed blush crept up his cheeks. Lightly, King wiped his hands along the bandages on his stomach, only to wince when it left a coppery brown stain.

"Ah."

"Yeah…"

"I should probably go clean myself up."

"It would be for the best."

Purple shot him a small smile as King hissed out a breath and stood up. Turning on his heels, King made his way towards the hallway bathroom as Purple headed towards the kitchen. Once again back in the bathroom, the formerly royal stick took a moment to reassess his bandages. Aside from metallic markings along his midsection, the rest of the wraps looked fine. He figured he probably didn't need to change them yet and instead opted to use a slightly damp paper towel to clean up the residue.

He had just finished his clean up when a call caught his attention.

"Hey uh, King? I think there's a problem."

King frowned. He stepped out of the bathroom door to find Purple poking their head out from the living room archway. They looked nervous but also slightly annoyed.

"What's wrong?" King asked. Purple stared at him, eyes narrowed, as he walked down the hall.

"You don't have any food here," They replied. "Or rather, the only food you have are boxes of instant macaroni and cheese, and ramen packets."

King raised an eyebrow at the younger stick figure's words. "Do you… not like mac and cheese?"

Purple huffed, the frustration growing on their face. "I do, but why are these the only sources of food in your house? You have a half quarter of milk in your fridge but you don't even have any cereal to go with it!"

King shrugged. "I'm not much of a cook."

And Purple sputtered as he sidestepped them to enter the main room.

In all honesty, King didn't really know why Purple was getting so worked up over this. Sure it wasn't ideal, but food was food. The easier it was to make, the easier it was for King to dedicate more time towards his goals. Though that was in the past, right now he was more focused on just getting something to eat.

From behind, Purple caught up with his walk towards the kitchen and fell in step. "Has that all you've been eating?" They asked quietly.

King shrugged again, taking a moment to glance back at the other. Their mouth was a hard line. "I also get takeout a lot."

Purple's face pulled into a scowl.

"What was the last thing you ate?"

King blinked. "Aside from that thing you brought? Um… "

He squinted at the pile of dishes in the sink, trying to remember if the last thing he consumed was cooked or bought. "You know, I don't remember but it was probably ramen."

A hiss of air escaped Purple's mouth as they mumbled something under their breath. After a moment they sighed. "Let's just… order something."

"Alright," King said as he made his way to the kitchen counter.

From one of the drawers, King pulled out various takeout menus. There were menus for pizza, Italian, Mexican, American, and Chinese cuisine, all of which looked worn from use and sporting little golden stars next to specific menu items. He handed them to Purple for them to look over.

"Pick something, I don't really care what you want," he explained, pulling out his phone. "Just let me know what you want and I can order."

The kitchen was quiet after that as Purple shifted over the pamphlets. After a moment, they silently handed the menu for a local Chinese restaurant over to King and told him what they wanted.

One phone call later and an order of vegetable lo mein, sweet and sour chicken, and a side of white rice was set to arrive in 30 minutes.

With that taken care of, King turned back towards Purple. Said stick figure was staring at his fridge with an unreadable look on their face. The orange stick chewed at the inside of his cheek. Was having an understocked fridge that bad? Sure it wasn't ideal but it never really bothered him. He didn't have time to go to the store that often and he was doing fine eating what he had on hand. Caring about food gets a lot harder when it's only yourself you're caring about.

Still, the stare that Purple gave made him uneasy.

"So… um," King said, breaking the awkward silence. "Let's say that I did have ingredients. What would you have made?"

Purple blinked in surprise. They brought a hand up to their chin and hummed.

"It depends on the type of ingredients you had on hand," King watched as they glanced around the kitchen. "Probably would have made something easy on the stomach. Maybe a soup?"

"Oh! Like that porridge thing you brought for lunch?" King asked. A small smile formed on Purple's face.

"Lugaw, it's called lugaw. It's a rice porridge dish," They said softly. "My mom used to make it for me whenever I got sick."

"Aw, that's actually really sweet-" And not for the first time today, King felt like ice water was dumped down his back.

Mom.

He jolted from his spot against the counter. "You're not a desktopper?"

Purple flinched, on guard from the sudden tone change. "What?"

"You're not a desktopper?!" A roaring panic rose in King. "You have a parent?"

"I mean-"

"You were born?!"

Whatever Purple said in reply drowned in the sea of King's racing thoughts. If Purple wasn't a created stick from someone's desktop or from some other media, then that meant they were born. And that meant they had a parent or guardian.

That meant he almost killed someone's kid.

"KING!"

Purple had his arms in a tight grip. They were trying to coax them down from their place at the sides of King's head. Huh, when did they get there…

Just like before, they were gentle in their actions, voice soft and calming even if he couldn't make out what they were saying.

Eventually, panic subsided and all that was left was a hollow numbness in his chest. Purple had settled themself next to him.

"King… are you-"

[DING DONG]

Two pairs of eyes shot up at the sound of the doorbell.

King startled, moving to push himself off of the counter but Purple shook their head.

"The door, the food-" King rasped. Purple only shook their head harder and pushed him towards a kitchen chair.

"Sit," They commanded. "I got it. Where's your wallet?"

King gestured towards the main room. "At my desk. Top left drawer."

The younger nodded. "Okay. Stay here. Focus on your breathing. I'll be right back."

And with that, they turned and hurried out of the kitchen.

Slumping into his seat, he could hear the faint sounds of Purple talking to the delivery guy. King groaned and buried his head into his hands. His mind was a mess of guilt and embarrassment. Guilt over the thought of nearly inflicting the same lonely torment he endured on to an innocent mother, and embarrassment because what the Flash was wrong with him?

Having the occasional breakdown every couple of weeks (or days) was fine but multiple times in one day? That was absurd.

Purple probably thinks I'm a nutcase.

He felt pathetic. But before he could spiral further, Purple strode in with a brown paper bag in hand. King lifted his head to watch as they gently placed it on top of the table. They shot him a glance with a question clearly forming on their lips but King paid them no mind. The smell of noodles and chicken was already distracting him from his previous thoughts.

"I used one of your 20s. The amount was $18.48. The change was $1.52," Purple quietly said and placed King's wallet within his reach. "You can check to see it's all there."

He glanced down at it, taking a moment to gauge Purple's own stare, before picking it up and tossing it onto the counter.

"Thanks," He muttered before turning back to open the bag. The other end of the table was silent as he pulled out the cartons of food and chopsticks. King could feel Purple's eyes on him but he ignored them, instead focusing on arranging the food out on the table. After a moment, he heard Purple sigh and move towards the dish cabinet.

They arrived with two plates, two forks, and a spoon as King finished opening all the takeout containers. They stuck the forks into the lo mein and sweet and sour chicken, and the spoon into the rice. With that they handed King one of the plates and settled into their seat across the table.

It was quiet as the two sticks added food to their plates and it stayed quiet as they began to eat.

King chewed on his chicken as he eyed Purple. The younger stick wasn't looking at him but he could tell that they had something on their mind. He cringed. No doubt Purple was going to ask him about his whole "freakout" over learning they had a parent. He gnawed on his chopstick. He hoped Purple didn't ask him too many questions. Frankly, even he didn't know why he reacted so viscerally and he did not want to explore those feelings at this moment.

From across the table, Purple took in a breath and King mentally prepared himself for the confrontation.

"Do you know of any places that buy scrap metal?"

He blinked. That certainly wasn't what he expected Purple to say. Though, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't relieved that the topic of conversation was about the future and not the past. If Purple didn't want to bring up what happened in the last half hour then King was more than happy to sweep it under the rug.

King stuck his chopsticks into his noodles, "There's a few places we can head too. Copper and Steel is the closest one but Mety's has better prices."

Purple nodded. "Which one is closer to the library?"

"None of them are close per say, but C&S is on the same side of town at least," King chewed thoughtfully. "Why? Are you planning on checking some books out?"

"Well no," the younger stick answered. "I just thought that since we'd already be out, we could also get the rest of the errands done at the same time."

King paused, mulling over what Purple suggested. "Hmm… You know, that's not a bad idea. Nice thinking Purple!"

They beamed at him. "Thank you! So it's settled. We'll go to the metal place, the grocery store, and the library."

King nodded along. "Metal, grocery, library… That sounds good- Wait grocery?"

The orange stick looked over to Purple in confusion, second-guessing whether or not he heard them right. Purple, to their credit, held his gaze and blinked almost innocently at him.

"Well you did say we could go run some errands while out," Purple said nonchalantly. "Wouldn't it also make sense to get some groceries?"

King slowly blinked at Purple, taking in that little bit of sleight of hand. A disbelieving smirk formed on his face.

"You sly little stick," King shook their head and chuckled. "Alright, I get it. I need more food in the house. We'll go get some tomorrow."

The grin sent his way could only be described as self-satisfied as the purple stick hummed and took another bite of noodles. King couldn't help the snort of laughter at the younger's action as he shook his head again and continued to eat.

With plans for the next day sorted, the two started chatting about how to continue cleaning. It was decided that King would work on finding some sort of means of transportation to help carry the metal and books for tomorrow. Once that was done, he'd start sweeping the floors. Purple in the meantime, would focus on putting the remaining books onto King's shelf. After that, they would organize the rest of the papers and miscellaneous boxes on the floor for King to look through in the future.

Over food and conversation, the outburst from before slowly slipped from their minds and neither of them were too sad to see it go.

= O = o =

Nearly half an hour later and their Chinese takeout dinner was done. Just like before, King grabbed the used dishes and placed them into the sink while Purple gathered the leftovers and placed them in the fridge. With their meal complete, they made their way to the main room where King rummaged through his storage closet in search of bags big enough to hold pieces of metal. Purple busied themself with reorganizing medical supplies left out on King's bed.

By the time King had found a couple of sturdy yard bags, Purple had deposited the various items into one of the empty boxes from the floor. As he approached them, they carefully scooted the newly christened medical box to the head of the bed by the shelf. From there the pair started going about their assigned tasks to tidy up the main room. They worked in a comfortable silence with only the occasional comment or question interrupting their work flow.

This is nice, King thought to himself. How long had it been since he had another person in his space like this? Sure, Purple was there to help with the Minecraft plan but that felt different. He paused his sweeping to watch them work.

They were short, a whole head shorter than King and that left them on their tip-toes as they slotted some books back on the top shelf. Despite the inconvenience, Purple had a look of determination on their face. It reminded him so much of the antics Gold would get up to…

A feeling akin to fondness bubbled in King's chest and he shook his head to clear it. He turned back to his broom and he continued sweeping.

It was nice to have someone around again.

It wasn't until the sound of an alarm broke the quiet within the house, causing King to jump and Purple to scramble for their blaring phone. With a quick tap on the screen, the room fell back into silence.

King shook his head, a hand on his chest. "What was that?"

Purple, with their phone still in hand, blushed and rubbed at the back of their neck.

"It's my bus alarm," They said sheepishly. "It takes about 10 minutes to get to the nearest bus stop so I set it so I'd have enough time to get there."

"You're leaving?"

They nodded. "It's already almost 9. I'd like to get some sleep for tomorrow."

"For tomorrow? Yeah! That's right! You're coming back tomorrow?" Of course they'd be coming back. A few hours ago they made plans to meet back up the next day but that still didn't stop the hopeful lift in King's voice. If Purple noticed it, they didn't say anything.

"Mmhmm. I promised to help you, didn't I?"

"I mean, yes, but-" He stumbled over his words, a previous concern pushed itself to the front of his mind. "But, you also have to help yourself. Or, at least let me help you too."

The younger stick had started gathering their belongings into their pink tote but stilled at his words. Their eyes darted to meet his before darting down towards the medical box. For a moment, King thought they were going to protest like they did before but after a moment, they sighed and reached to pull out a roll of bandages and a bruise cream tube. They tossed those items into their bag.

"Okay."

"Cool."

"So… I'll see you tomorrow then?" A goodbye posed as a question, a small awkward smile formed on King's face. Purple readjusted the strap on their bag and hauled it over their shoulder.

They locked eyes with King and with a look that could almost be considered fond, replied, "I'll see you in the morning."

Then without a word, Purple turned and left the house, the door closing with a soft click.

A second passed, then two, then three. There King stood, staring at the closed door. Slowly, he turned around to face the rest of the room. It was silent again, but for once, it didn't feel as oppressive as it once did.

Maybe it was because for the first time in a while, the house was clean. Well not clean but it was as organized and tidy as it could be given the circumstances. Maybe it was because of the food King ate. He hadn't eaten that fully in a while. Or maybe it was because he wasn't alone anymore. Sure his house was empty at the moment, but Purple had promised to come back tomorrow morning. Even if they were… weird (and they were, a voice in the back of his mind told him he should probably assess those comments and actions he had filed away) but their help equaled companionship and who was King to complain?

Whatever the reason was at the moment, it was lost on King as he shuffled quietly towards his bed. The events of the day had well and truly begun to hit him. He was tired but it was a good tired. A satisfied tired. One that reminded him of trips spent camping from years ago.

Dimly, he knew he probably should clean himself up before going to sleep. He needed to brush his teeth, wipe the dust off himself, recheck his bandages…

But as soon as he locked eyes with the bed, he knew what his main priority was.

He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

= o =

Purple pressed their forehead against the bus's window, its coolness doing wonders for easing the tension in their head.

They were… content, for lack of a better word. King had a smile on his face when they left so they must have done a good job.

The closest bus stop to their apartment was on West 9th street. Glancing at the screen near the front of the bus, told them they had just turned on off of 5th Avenue. Purple closed their eyes. They had 10 more stops left before they had to get off.

Today went well. Not as smoothly as they had hoped it would but they were always ready to roll with the punches. Maybe they were just rusty when it came to this type of helping.

9 stops left.

A series of giggles and poorly hushed laughter brought Purple out of their thoughts. Cracking an eye open, they watched as a group of nicely dressed stick figures passed by their seat and took some of their own seats near the back. They looked to be around Purple's age and were excitedly discussing a new club that opened up. Purple closed their eyes again, letting their chatter fade into the background.

8 stops left.

King had been right. And that meant Purple had been wrong. But that was fine. Purple was wrong about a lot of things. That just meant they had to try harder to learn what was right for King.

7 stops left.

Today they learned that what they say can come off as condescending, even if that wasn't the original intention. King is more than capable of helping himself. Purple is there to only aid in his recovery and to make things easier. They owed it to him.

6 stops left.

Don't assume to know what's best, even if it worked well with their mother. King is not the same. Similar but not the same. Purple couldn't forget that.

5 stops left.

One of the stick figures for the group had pulled the cord, signaling for the bus to stop. Purple blinked and watched as they filed excitedly off the bus. One stick, lilac in color, met Purple's gaze. They smiled at them, giving a curious but confused stare back before a friend pulled them towards the nightlife. For one brief moment, Purple felt a pang of jealousy.

4 stops left.

They shook that thought out of their head and refocused their eyes out onto the familiar lamp post lit streets. Going out to "party" was not important.

3 stops left.

Two old men climbed onto the bus and sat in the front, quietly chatting about their day. Trying to get friends was not important (at least not yet, a smiling green face flashed across the back of their mind).

2 stops left.

A mother cradling a sleeping toddler walked off the bus. The child snuggled closer as the summer air hit their skin. Helping King was important. And by proxy, so was Purple. The bandages felt tight on their skin.

1 stop left.

The tired stick lifted their head from the window. They had a job to do. Nothing else should matter. They just needed to keep their priorities straight.

Purple pulled the cord and the bus slowed to a stop.

#Sammy8D writes #AvAM In the Week that Follows #AvM In the Week that Follows #AvM fanfic #alan becker #AvAM Watered Down Hot Chocolate #AvAM WDHC #animation vs minecraft #avm shorts #avm #King stick figure #the King #AvM King #AvA King #purple stick figure #ava purple #avm purple #Sammy8D Stick Stuff

58 notes · View notes

cloveroctobers · 4 months

Text

DECEMBER PROMPTS 🧊 — 3. MICHAEL “MIKEY” BERZATTO

A/N: I want to attempt to make this a bit lighter but with the way the bear is set up? Happiness is a process. 🥂 Also this takes place BEFORE 7 fishes? Maybe a year or two prior, so thats probably six or seven years ago from now? The timeline isn’t overly important with this show so whatever your brain feels is cool with me! Also decided to do this in headcanon/note form this time around because things are definitely about to get hectic for me. Merry Christmas Eve or Happy Holidays to you all! 🫶🏽 hope its filled with nothing but greatness + all things that are lovely and not chaos.

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + I’m using: SCENARIO — 4.) Decorating the tree + DIALOGUE — 2.) “You know what they say, don’t eat yellow snow.”

<- read my previous December anthology prompt here.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊

Michael Berzatto always loved cold weather and sure his birthday happened to always fall on a brutal cold day… he always put more effort into everyone else’s.

It’s something he’s always done and maybe it had to do with his childhood where most birthdays his own parents forgot about it, treating it as any other day because that’s simply how they viewed their own and wouldn’t even get him a card at least.

He grew up fast and pushed those terrible feelings as far down as they could go and focused on caring for everyone else.

Lucky for him, he had his younger siblings that always managed to put a smile on his face, showing him that they wouldn’t ever forget

and a shit eating grin would also appear thanks to his best friend Richie who always showed up with packs of beer and encouragement to head out to a strip joint but somehow Tiffany always figured out that plan!

a gallon of warmth poured into his chest when you would call him at midnight or the break of dawn, wanting to be the first to send him well wishes for another year.

You were always something special to Michael.

Which is why on the morning of November 15th, he showed up to your place, just to tell you later that you were going tree hunting while he went down to Chicagoland to get the rest of his hours in.

He heard how bummed out you were about your boyfriend not being in town (yet again) to go get a tree for the place you moved into back in July.

Michael didn’t particularly hate the guy but he also felt like he didnt care enough as much as he should with someone like you.

He was always elsewhere and Michael was just praying that he didn’t ask you to marry him and call it selfish but he didn’t see a glimmer in your eyes when you looked at the guy.

Michael felt like you two were just dating out of convenience—until you both found better, which YOU would but you didn’t seem to see that.

Which of course sparked arguments and the guy walked in on that argument, demanding to know what was going on and you didn’t want to escalate the situation so you sent a warning glance for Michael not to take it there.

He never listened.

A ban from the house was laughable to Michael because who tf did this guy think he was to tell him to stay away from his best friend’s house? He maybe “the man,” of the house but he wasn’t man enough to love you. You have to show you care in a relationship and put in the work and this guy wasn’t it. You were an after thought and that pissed Michael off.

and he didn’t give a shit if the guy was 6’6 and built like a linebacker, it was fair game in mike’s eyes! Michael would say what he felt and he was super protective over you—which you appreciated but not in that moment.

Before hands could ever go flying and out of the respect he has for you, he said his peace and left the home—since thats what you wanted…with the both of you not speaking for a week—which was painful.

And also painful to Richie’s ears because Mikey wouldn’t shut up about it!

You as a topic? Was never on the low.

“Are you finally gonna admit to the audience that you’re sweet on them, Mikey Boy!?” The amusement was clear in Richie’s piercing blues and Michael was tempted to smack it right off.

“Shut your mouth and get back to work, ya bastard!”

Michael knew the guy talked shit about him behind his back but regardless Michael was in your life WAAAY before this guy was even a factor! He wasn’t going anywhere,, unless you told him to but he hoped that never happened.

Your boyfriend didn’t like how you kept Michael around but he knew how to put on a mask too, being a FBI agent and all that, which means he was hardly around anyway so…that gave Michael more time with you in the end, which definitely made your boyfriend more irritated when he bothered to check in from work!

Michael found it funny that your boyfriend thought he was doing something by flying back to Indiana with you to spend (the controversial holiday) thanksgiving with your dad, step-mother, and half-siblings just to disappear again into his work as soon as the both of you returned to chicago.

While he was off on a case, Michael was there taking on the failed promises, which included: tree shopping.

Having a hybrid schedule, working as a publisher and just starting a meeting with a client, you were caught off guard the morning Michael greeted you on your front steps on HIS birthday.

He was all grins and barely in the appropriate wear for the approaching winter but fr! a hoe never gets cold you know? “You asked what i feel like doing for my birthday, right sweetheart? Spending it with you doll face and gettin’ us a tree, how’s that sound?”

You can can barely get any words out due to being on a call but a sweet smile that actually matched your eyes was enough confirmation—although it was on the tip of your tongue to argue, Michael took that to his advantage that you couldn’t in that moment.

Which didn’t mean you wouldn’t hammer him with texts a little later—but Michael sucked at texting so your attempts would probably go unseen anyway.

It was around six, you just got off thirty minutes ago and went to freshen up, ready to text Michael when he’s already at your door, keys in hand, shining teeth of a smile, your favorite sandwich in hand: a wrapped Porchetta, chicken parm, or a caprese sandwich (if you don’t eat meat) ready for you to eat on the go, since the farm closes at eight-thirty and the drives about thirty to forty-five minutes depending on the traffic…

Michael’s got terrible road rage and hates traffic but you’re not the best driver when the sky falls so you have no choice this evening but…he’s at ease with you on the passenger side.

He’s telling you entertaining stories as you eat and when you’re done, he’s asking for your review—although it’s your favorite sandwich so of course it’s going to be highly rated! but he just likes to hear you talk about the things you enjoy

he’s interested in your day since your work days are completely different and he’s not afraid to give his opinions if the author you’re working with sounds like an asshole.

Shopping with you can sometimes take forever but Michael doesn’t seem to mind. If you’re looking for the perfect tree, even if it’s ugly as hell, you’re gonna get the damn tree.

He’s used to artificial trees because the real one his family had after he just turned fifteen, his ma threw a lit cigarette at once, unbeknownst to the rest of the berzatto family, almost burning it to a crisp as she whipped around to yell at a seven year old Sugar about something, so his dad swore off “spending his hard earned money for Donna to ruin,” leaving Michael to stop looking forward to Christmas trees

Yet he was here on his birthday with you, happy to be here and help you find whatever you needed.

“What about that one?” You pointed at what would probably be the eighth one, if Michael thought to keep count.

He can’t help it—

He glances over his shoulders and scowls, “looks like uncle Lee, fucking balding in the middle.”

“Michael!”

“Wha? Am I wrong?! I’m just sayin, sweetheart…if you love that one, I’ll like it.” Michael raised his hands in surrender while you huffed, rolled your eyes and spun on your flats, diving in between a row of fully stocked trees.

Eventually you find a wide white spruce tree that the both you felt strongly about to bring back home

and the man is willing to throw his back out for you, getting it up your steep front steps, not allowing you to help him one bit, which is frustrating for you ofc.

Once positioned in your living room, just the way you want it, Michael wipes the back of his hand against his forehead dramatically.

“What would you like to drink?”

“I’m fine. Just gonna get some air, then when I get back we’ll discuss when you want to decorate it, yeah?”

You shake your head at Michael while he heads back to the front of the house through the screened in entrance before entering November’s air.

When he’s taking longer than expected, you go hunting for him just to flail around on some black ice after stepping down from the last step but manage to somewhat catch yourself on the railing.

Thankful for a bruise rather than a broken tailbone, you curse to yourself as the throbbing pain shoots down your femur.

And surely, Michael fucking berzatto appears from the shadows to assist you, “hey! whatcha doin’ down there?”

“I slipped on some stupid black ice…where were you?”

“You sure it wasn’t the yellow snow?”

“The what?” You exasperate as Michael guides you to your feet.

Michael points at the spot to the right of your front lawn and you scowl as he says, “you know what they say, don’t eat yellow snow!”

He laughs but stops short as you cut your eyes at him, “did you come out here to piss on my lawn when there’s two bathroom’s inside?”

Michael scoffs, “don’t go pointin’ fingers at me because you busted your ass. That ain’t my fault babe and you know I wouldn’t do that! I told you that was Richie’s drunk ass.”

Sighing you rub at your sore thigh, “I still owe him a kick in the ass for that.”

“Yeah you do,” Michael smirks as the both of you move to head back inside, “despite that, it was good house warming.”

You nod as you’re back inside the warmth of your new home and rest against the couch while Michael’s back to analyzing the tree you picked. “Hey, I’ve got you something.”

Michael shakes his head although a twitch of a grin is there,“I told you that you didn’t need to get me anything.”

“Shush,” you held up your hand at the man who raised his brows at you, “it’s nothing crazy but it’s in the fridge.”

He sighs at you but goes to your bright yellow kitchen nonetheless. Michael always gets caught up standing in your kitchen, just imagining all the meals he could get up to in here since it seems so bright and welcoming yet empty.

You were more of a breakfast person which is why he was always down to go to diners because of you, whereas he was more a lunch person because of his old man, hence why Chicagoland was a deli spot but Michael was okay with shifting his ways for you.

When he opens your fridge, he scans through it, easily picking up on what items belongs to your macho boyfriend and scoffs to himself before spotting a medium sized box tucked in the back of the fridge.

“Did you find it, Mikey?” You call out to your friend who latches onto the box, kneeing the fridge closed before making his way back into the living room.

He plops down on the couch next to you, eyeing you while you smile over at him patiently waiting.

“Here goes nothing,” Michael quietly says before pulling the top back to eye the mold of the zuccotto, “…you fucking didn’t.”

“I did,” you nod before explaining, “I thought about making one but I also didn’t want to disappoint you and then I remembered you’ve been wanting to try that bakery that’s here on my side of town, so I made a call and hope you like it.”

Michael swallows the lump in his throat at the gesture. He can’t remember the last time someone’s got him a cake but this wasn’t just some simple task. This was important because this means you listened.

You listened to how he told you that his nonna used to call him, “pumpkin bear,” because he was chunky and the shade of a Orange left in the sunlight fresh out the womb and that she made the best zuccotto he’s ever had and never tried anyone else’s since she’s passed.

Not even his ma could touch his nonna’s but he would never tell the woman that!

“The bakery’s a combined Italian-French place which they don’t really advertise until you’re actually inside but the little elderly lady who made it was the cutest thing and I thought you’d probably trust her.”

“I wanna kiss you on the mouth, you’re so good to me, you have no idea!” Michael pointed at you, voice thick with emotion.

This may seem small to any other but it really meant a lot and you could sense that as Michael gripped your hand to squeeze and press kisses to. “Happy birthday, Mikey.” You whisper.

Michael groans as he pinched the corners of his wet eyes for a moment, “I love you, you know?”

“I love you back,” you smile, “now can we try!?”

“Hell yeah we can but I get first bite this time.”

“I guess…it is your birthday after all.” You wink.

The taste test was so worth it, to the point Michael made it his mission to go meet the elderly woman down at her bakery during one of his breaks from the restaurant.

He shared kind words and got to know Giuseppina or “Josy,” up until the point they actually became friendly with Josy sending her husband Charles over to try what Chicagoland had to offer as well.

He had you to thank for that, reminding him of the good in his life, even what once was.

It isnt until the first week of December when Michael comes around again to decorate your tree.

“What the hell happened?” Michael quizzes you when he spots you with a brace taking up a huge portion of your thigh.

Guess that makes sense why you took so long to get the door.

You sigh, “hello to you too, Mike. Care to come in?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hi.” Michael greets, gripping your hip and pressing a kiss to your cheek before stepping into the too warm house.

You tell him you slipped again and that resulted into a bruised bone, which is less severe than a fracture and something you can heal at home with ice, and meds you wouldn’t be taking—so you’re just taking it easy.

“Why hasn’t inspector gadget put down any salt yet?” Michael commented as he shoved his thin jacket into the small closet tucked in the corner of the living room.

You have your oddly placed fireplace lit and boxes everywhere to dig through.

Sighing you plop back on the couch, “He’s busy but he brought up the decorations from the basement and I can do the salt myself.”

“Oh yeah? Why haven’t you?”

“…it’s cold.”

Michael fans his hands at you, “newsflash babe, we’re in Chicago not Kansas or wherever the hell he’s from and after we’re done tackling this tree, I’m gonna fix it.”

“Mikey—

“Did you hear what I said?”

The look he sent you with his dark eyes made you mold your lips together and cross your arms before you pushed off the couch to head over to a few of the boxes.

Michael does the honors of playing some Motown Christmas music on your tv to fill the tension, but he wouldn’t apologize for looking out for you.

The bare minimum when it comes to your boyfriend doesn’t impress him, not one bit and although you didn’t like and told Michael that you didn’t like him dragging your man, you couldn’t change Michael’s mind about him at all!

He was gonna hurt you and Michael was waiting for the asshole to just rip the band aid off or when you woke up and dumped him yourself.

Michael knew you had it in you and knew you deserved better than to just settle for what looks good on paper.

The smooth deep growl of Marvin Gaye singing, “I want to come home for Christmas,” (I heavily stand on the fact that Marvin Gaye is one of Michael’s favorite singers!) filled your home as the both of you went through the boxes, picking out your decor that brought all sorts of feelings to your frame.

You reminisced about what your life was and if your dad still had any of your old ornaments you made as a child, knowing your mother would have and what your life could be as you took your side of the tree, placing ornaments up as Michael hummed to the music.

The both of you worked in silence which wasn’t the usual although Michael was much louder than you, being quiet wasn’t the norm of your friendship.

And it wasn’t because of what Michael said to you, you weren’t that sensitive—it was you getting in your head about the holidays.

About your dad, step-mom, and siblings deciding not to speed Christmas with you like originally planned because they were going on a cruise and the possibility of your boyfriend traveling to freaking Europe around that time for work made you think about the upcoming loneliness

Yes you had another friend outside of Michael but it was just this odd feeling that you didn’t particularly want to define or gave much thought about until now…

“Hey, stop thinkin’ so hard and just be here with me, huh? Your favorite person on the planet.” Michael calls over the music, after catching you staring up at the length of the tree with one ornament still in your hand.

When your eyes meet his and that famous grin stretched over his features, you roll your eyes once you realized what he said, bringing you back into the spirit and moved around the living room in search of your stool.

Michael holds the stool until your comfortably on it before moving one hand to the small of your back to keep you stable.

When you glance back at him you state, “how do you know?”

“Know what?”

“You’re my favorite person when there’s a billion people in this place?”

“Ah, It’s all over your face! You know how they say heart on your sleeve? Well in your case, it’s on your face.” Michael comments as he holds your stare before you slowly get down to be face to face with him, “and don’t you worry, you’re mine too.” 🥹🥹🥹

You pat his jaw, “damn straight, baby. And don’t you forget it.”

“Never will,” Michael chuckles, “do I get to do the honors of putting up the star?”

You plop down on the couch, digging through what’s left in the box you were working on, “we don’t have a star.”

“…Run that by me again?” Michael turns to you.

You nod, “we wanted to do something…less traditional and it was between either a bow or what he went for…a stag.”

Michael eyes the topper and scowls as he reaches for the cream deer head, “im gonna keep my mouth shut on this one.”

“Thank you.”

“welcome.”

after awhile, Michael finds his way collapsed next to you eyeing the tree as the both of you sip at some cranberry punch you made the other day, eyeing some rosemary you had floating through it.

“It actually turned out pretty, no?” You ask, shoulder to shoulder with the bearded man.

Michael sips from the mason jar and savors the earthy tangy flavor, “best lookin’ tree I’ve ever seen!”

Resting your head against Michael’s shoulder you take in the scenery, feeling a little less alone as Michael’s lips peck your brow, reminding you that it’s best to hold onto what you have, rather than what you don’t.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊

read my final ~5 days of Xmas~ anthology prompt here.

#Spotify #queued #the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear s2 #the bear hulu #the bear fx #michael berzatto #Michael Mikey berzatto #Mikey berzatto #Michael berzatto x reader #Mikey berzatto x reader #december prompts #jon bernthal #donna berzatto #natalie berzatto #carmy berzatto #richie jerimovich #tiffany jerimovich

75 notes · View notes

the1975attheirverybest · 5 months

Text

Being Funny In A Foreign Language

Chapter 4- Oh Caroline.

read all other chapters here

Warnings: brief depictions of mental illness. Light smut.

———

Matty crawled, shirtless, in the artificial grass towards peanut. He learned from doing this bit of the show every night that, there are some days when he finds it completely routine —just a performer doing the scripted bit that he worked hard to orchestrate for a very specific purpose—and there are other days, like today, when the entire experience feels uncanny. A real lived experience of his personal life being broadcast for the world to see. He is face to face(literally; their faces are inches apart) with his own naked likeness; comforting it, stroking its arm gently, treating it with care and tenderness.

He laid right behind peanut and wrapped his arms around his body double, spooning him in front of thousands of cheering fans. This was always the strangest part. He’s all too aware of the worlds eyes on his every move even as he attempts to drop the act and be vulnerable. The thing about manufactured vulnerability is, though, that it’s always inherently, at its essence, an act. some nights, he wondered, as he laid there next to himself, how much was manufactured and how much was vulnerable.

Tonight, his thoughts drifted back to that brief moment of respite that he experienced in Amelia’s arms. He kissed a line along the expanse of peanuts shoulders, tightening his arms around him. When the platform lowered again, taking peanut away with it, Matty rolled on his back. Tears rolled down his cheeks as the screens in the venue displayed a close-up zoomed in on him.

Moments later, the platform came back up, a guitar and a microphone ready for “Be My Mistake.”

***

Matty and Amelia never spoke of that night after it happened. They found it difficult to speak about anything at all. A fact that unnerved Matty endlessly. But he didn’t know how to be around her anymore. Every time he tried, he found himself clinging too tightly to a pretense of normalcy; trying so hard to act as though nothing had changed between them. He couldn’t bare the way it made him feel, even worse, he couldn’t bare the fact that it was his fault their friendship had now broken.

He leaned into the routines of tour life. Waking up, working out, writing, performing, and getting ready to do it all again in a different city the next day. That is, until he woke up on the morning of the first day of their week off.

His first mistake was not getting out of bed as soon as he’d woken up. What was intended as a relaxed start to the day turned into Matty not getting out of bed at all. After hours of endless scrolling, unanswered texts, and ignored notification, he set down his phone and noticed the lump in his throat. He turned to the other side of the bed, pulling the duvet protectively over himself and squeezing his eyes shut. He felt stuck. Like the whole world around him was moving at whirlwind speeds while he laid there, perfectly still. Even the thoughts inside his mind and the beating heart in his chest seemed to move faster than he could handle. He tucked his knees up into his chest and tried to breathe through the worst of it.

It was 6 pm before Matty had managed to get himself out of bed. And it wasn’t long before he returned to it. The first two nights of the week went by without him leaving his hotel room.

***

“Amelia! Joshua! Welcome back!” The couple turned around to find Mark, sipping on A cocktail at the hotel bar.

“Mark, you’re here.” Amelia hugged him.

“Did you kids have a good trip?”

Mark always made Amelia smile and put her at ease. She thought it was his warm paternal energy, a comfort to have around when you find yourself in a strange and unfamiliar place every other day while on tour. But, perhaps it was even more than that, Mark genuinely cared about each of the boys, their friends, and there partners. He was sincere when he asked to hear about their trip to Joshua’s hometown, and whether or not the weather over there was good. It was clear to everyone why Matty loved working with Mark.

“What about you? You guys must have cut your short trip if you’re already here drinking tonight.” Amelia observed.

“Oh we never went anywhere.” Mark sipped on his drink. “I mean, I think George and Charli are off on holiday. Reckon Adam’s out of town as well. Seen Ross out and about. Not entirely sure where Matty is but he’s in town.”

Amelia couldn’t shake that feeling in her gut. Mark’s words echoed through her mind as the elevator shot them up to the top floor. Not entirely sure where Matty is, but he’s in town. That doesn’t make any sense. Matty often used his days off in the US between New York or, if he was feeling messy, LA. For him to not pack up and go somewhere, when he has an entire week to do was he pleased, was very unusual.

She looked down the dimly lit hallway as she stepped off the elevator. Matty’s room was somewhere in the darkness. Something told her she needed to be there.

“Hun?,” she whispered, tapping Joshua’s shoulder. “Would you mind taking my suitcase and heading in without me? I- just wanna check on Matty.”

***

“Amelia” Matty barely mustered when he opened the door to her knocking.

She scanned him head to toe, noting that he was in a t shirt and boxers. “You don’t seem happy to see me.”

“Just….erm.” He scratched his head “thought you were room service or— house keeping or something.”

It was difficult for Amelia to keep a straight face while looking at the dark circles underneath his eyes, his unshaven face, his defeated look. But she knew Matty well enough to tiptoe around these observations. “Aren’t you gonna let me in?”

Matty hesitated, briefly, but it was Amelia. He could never turn her away. “Yeah. Right. Come in.”

She surveyed her surroundings, her heart shattered into a million pieces. The empty bottles everywhere, the clothes piled up in different corners, his guitar laying diagonally across the floor, various cables and wires everywhere, plates of uneaten food resting on the entertainment unit and the dresser. Everywhere she looked, there were signs telling her that she was already far too late.

“Oh, gosh. Matty…” words escaped her.

Matty averted his gaze, embarrassed.

Her hands reached out to him but Matty stepped back moving out of her reach.

“N-no, no. It’s fine. I’m…I’m fine. You should go-“

“Just wanna keep you company. Can I? Can I just sit with you for a little while?”

“Amelia, please-“

“You need help. Why won’t you let me help you?” She walked over to the couch, pushing the random books and papers that had covered it into a corner and sitting down.

Matty paced back and forth anxiously. “Because I don’t wanna get it wrong! I don’t want to do this- this- depression thing the wrong way-“

“Do you hear how insane you sound right now?

“No; you’re insane. You’re insane. I- listen to me. This thing within me- It’s not attractive or broody or anything. It’s- this!” He gestured passionately at his surroundings. “There’s nothing glamorous or artsy about how I feel. I cry a lot. And drink a lot. And I haven’t had a shower since the show a few days ago and- and I’m scared. All the fuckin time. I’m somewhere between terrified and completely numb.”

Matty felt the ground underneath him shift, losing balance, he quickly sat down next to her with a loud thud of his body hitting the couch.

“You get dizzy?” She asked, already knowing the answer. “Whens the last time you ate anything?”

“Depends….what day is it?”

“Oh for fucks sakes, Matthew!”

Matty leaned his head against her shoulder, cuddling into her. “I don’t want to eat. Please don’t make me do it.” He whispered as he closed his eyes.

Amelia remained perfectly still at first, allowing him to get comfortable. When she was certain that he wouldn’t spook or pull away, she slowly reached for his hair, stroking it gently as she spoke to him in her softest tone. “You been keeping up with the gym?”

Matty shook his head.

“Jiujitsu?”

“No.”

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Everything feels like sleeping. Like daydreaming or sleep-walking.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“What do you need right now? Can i- call down for some food? Do you…wanna go to sleep? I-“

“I need you.”He lifted his head off her shoulder and turned to look at her, pressing his forehead to hers, “please, Amelia? Just this once?” His nose brushed against hers, his lips a hairs breadth away from hers, begging for her to kiss him.

Amelia’s hands rested on either side of his face. “Will you let me take care of you?” She kissed him.

***

She pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. When she reached for the waistband of his underwear, Matty’s hands quickly stopped her.

“Uhh-umm I’m still- erm…having t-trouble there.”

“Oh. Ok-okay. That’s alright.” She smiled at him reassuringly. “Is there a…specific reason or— I mean is everything alright? Medically speaking….” Her words were clumsy, anxiety building in her stomach as she recalled how badly she’d fumbled this conversation the first time around.

Matty simply shrugged.

“You really need to learn to take care of yourself, Matty.”

Matty laid down, looking up at the ceiling. He whispered. “I don’t deserve to.”

“Don’t say that!”

“I’ve fucked everything up- I-“ he gasped as she brought her lips to the skin of his stomach, peppering him with kisses.

“I have an idea…” she mumbled, barely speaking in between kisses. “We should…come up with a system. Teach you how to let go.”

Matty’s brows furrowed. “System?”

She looked up at him through her lashes, pausing her loving for a moment to give me a slightly coy smile. “For your dopamine addicted weirdly wired brain….rewards for doing the right things, and….” She bit at his skin sharply, making him jolt and wince. “Punishments for doing the wrong things.”

“Might as well start there.” He spoke quickly. “I’ve done a lot of wrong things. Hurt you. Hurt the guys by risking their careers…well, if you believe Twitter, I’ve hurt entire demographics-“

She silenced him with a firm kiss. “I make the rules.” She whispered in his ear, smiling, “you hear that?”

Matty nodded slowly.

“We’ll come up with rules and expectations. They should mostly be around taking care of you. Making sure you get better.”

“Amelia, you don’t have to do all that. I-“

“Yeah, yeah. That conversation is for a bit later. For now, tell me, you ever been fucked in the ass?”

#matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy smut #matty healy angst #matty healy x oc #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader

94 notes · View notes

thetravelingtyper · 27 days

Text

On The Same Page pt5 (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader Bookshop! AU)

On the way home from Price and the beach you recollect an old story...

Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Masterlist

Warnings: None!

The road home was filled with music, a light heart, and the cleansing of rain. The storm rolled over you, rumbling with flashes of lightning sporadically lighting up the night. Lumbering hills with peaks and festering marshlands spanned alongside. One step off of the lonely road would take you to a world unlike your own. You thought deeply as you drove. Of things gone by, as the ocean disappeared, you missed home.

You were 13 when your parents became too busy, and left alone to your own devices you stumbled upon sanctuary. In the woods, you found a fox's den, now empty of its inhabitants. But there you found a new life. A fallen log your seat, you brought your typewriter out and started recording. The breaking of sticks down your trodden path, wisps of clouds on clear days. The sounds of birds, swooping swallows with dart-like precision. The growing flora and fungi in the damp woods.

Every day you would return, after school chasing the familiar shadows of your imagination. They kept you close comfort. One day, years later, however as you approached you found the glint of orange, and to your surprise, there was a fox asleep in the den. As you turned past the corner you ended up unintentionally waking the creature, its head popping up with ears like radars. Amber eyes met yours and you both just watched each other. However the creature did not startle, so you slowly approached yards away. Setting down your jacket you sit on it and slowly open the case of your typewriter. While its ears twitch, the fox shows no motion of moving, instead content with watching you.

Your hours were lost in the lone fox. And to your pleasure, it was there the next day, then the next week. You made it a habit to go to the den with your new acquaintance. As you met your first partner you would just talk in a soft voice to the fox, As junior college passed and your heart had been broken the fox had become something more in your brain. It was a symbol of the resilience of nature, of making the space you find yourself in yours. You finished your undergrad with the first drafts of your first book.

And as for the fox? One day you returned, set on your plan to move for your masters you had brought some meat out for the fox. Yet as you crossed the path you found the den empty for once after about two years. You frowned but left the meat anyway, vowing to return once before you left. But life got busy, saying goodbye and closing up loose ends. You vetted your life and your writing career. Stories covered your room walls, old and new. You were leaving everything you knew. A few days before you left on a brisk moment of free time you went on a whim to the den.

As you walk you reminisce on the years spent on this path. The turned stones, the old tree house, the creek the elements of your stories light up your vision. You can hear the howling of wolves under the wind, the creaking of moving trees, the ringing of fairy voices. And yet as fantasy swirls with reality you turn the bend to find not only your friend but a few fox kits as well. You stared in all as the fox watched you with bright eyes.

“You did good.” It's a whisper not only to the fox but to yourself as all of the elements of your growing stories fade back into reality.

A flash of lightning brought you back to reality as you parked the car in your building’s lot and prepared to face the onslaught of London rain. You sling your backpack on awkwardly in the tight space of the car and throw on your jacket over it. Street lamps flickered in wind and rain as you rushed out of the car and to the cover of the parking area. There was some wild feeling in you being exposed to the elements, just like at the ocean and when you were a kid. As you made it under cover you tilted your drenched head back and laughed into the evening. The florescent hum, there is something intently human in your heart.

You see movement and jump. Leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette is Simon. He watches you a smile playing on his lips.

“Happy Dove?”

The nickname has you blushing and you shove off your wet coat.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You chuckle. Simon raises a brow at your form before he puts out his cigarette. He shrugs off his jacket and holds it out for you.

“Come on I'll walk you home.” He looks at you expectantly, his body taking up a lot of the space in the hall. But as you move forward he steps aside to allow you next to him.

“Here,” He offers and you hand him your bag, he shoulders it and hands you his jacket. Slipping it on you are met with the smell of smoke and cologne. You relax into it as it engulfs you, something in SImon’s eye shining. You begin the walk under the awning together in comfortable silence. Simon cuts his stride short for you, and you give him an appreciative smile.

His hair is slightly damp you realize then, it gives him a bit of a boyish look, water-darkened hair complementing his eyes. He looks forward, scanning the path then turning back to you.

“Were you outside long?” You ask, the cold bristling you despite your borrowed jacket.

“No. I was watching out for you.” He offers it honestly. You hum, then you set a hand on his arm without thinking too much. Simon’s eyes widen a fraction and turn down to the contact. You realize then and move to pull away with an apology but Simon offers you his elbow. You pause but you take his arm in yours. Despite only being in a long-sleeved black shirt, Simon radiates warmth and you find yourself leaning into him. He glances at you through his peripheral vision.

“Are you not cold Simon?” You ask concerned. He shakes his head, putting on your backpack fully,

“‘M fine, thanks love.” Is all he offers, seeming content with silence, but he tucks his hand into his pocket, thus pulling you closer and you find yourself silently swooning. A few more minutes pass when you reach the main street, rain still pouring but the bookstore is in sight.

“Hold on, I've got an umbrella somewhere. I don't want you to get soaked.”

You pull on your arm and Simon begrudgingly releases you. You dig in your backpack producing a bright orange, fox-patterned umbrella. The sight is a bit bright and contrasts with his aesthetic but Simon opens it and holds it anyway, a brow raised that makes you giggle. Once you reach the cover of the book store you find the door unlocked so you enter followed by Simon into the warmth of the store. Simon does his best to avoid getting water everywhere but you take the bright umbrella from him with a thankful smile.

Having heard the door Sam rounds the corner.

“You found her then huh.” Sam notices you in Simon’s jacket and his grin widens and you give him a look.

“Sammy, not a word.”

“I said nothing!” He raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Thanks for walking her.” He adds and approaches you. Before you can escape you are locked in a headlock as Sam ruffles your hair.

“Sammy! Stop!” You push at his arms laughing. You both spend a fond moment roughhousing before you remember Simon.

“Simon at least stay for dinner till this storm lets up!” You insist, finally tapping out with Sam, he finally releases you with a kiss on your head. The older man stands on the cusp of the affection, watching. You spin back to him staring up with a pretty smile, expectant.

“Alright,” He says it intensely. It makes you pause, he sees this and shifts his weight, then nods an affirmation just as a large crash of thunder startles all of you.

“We have a spare bedroom if you need it,” Sam checks his phone, “the rain isn’t supposed to let up until tomorrow. You best stay the night.”

The thought doesn't seem to trouble Simon too much,

“If it's not a bother.”

You clap your hands together,

“I did owe you dinner didn’t I huh? And a sleepover is just like college Sam!”

Your best friend looks from his painted nails to Simon, the idea seems to crack him up. Simon glowers at him. You chuckle and set a hand on Simon’s arm.

“I met Captain Price today.”

This catches his attention, turning down to regard you as he speaks.

“He gone fishin’?”

The dry humor catches you off guard but you smile and reply,

“Something like that. He and I talked about stuff. He’s a good man Simon.”

At that Simon nods eye still tracing your hand, He raises his own to it to see your reaction. Your eyes widened at the direct contact, but you had been feeling comfortable with the man. You shoot him a shy smile and he returns it.

“It's a date then?” He asks.

Sam looks up from behind the counter eyes sharp. He meets eyes with Simon and the ex-lieutenant finds his equal in ferocity. Simon takes your hand and shares a look with Sam, a quiet conversation between them before Sam nods and starts to head upstairs, one final glance behind him at you and Simon.

“Can you lock up Buttercup?” He pauses in question.

You can only nod with an embarrassed blush on your face. Sam heads upstairs leaving you and Simon together. He seems content just holding your hand. He takes it, lifting your palm from his arm and simply grasping it in his dropping your hands down to hang. Your heart beats a little faster but you take the next step to interlace your fingers.

“I gotta lock up Simon.” You say it with a grin but he doesn't move his hand instead gesturing to the door.

“Ill follow.” His mumbles.

You give him a humored look, swinging your hand in his. He waits a moment, releasing your hand as you step to the door, Simon following like a shadow. He reminded you of Nebula, your childhood cat. A cat of few meows but much affection and he would follow you around the house.

You flip off the switch for the lights and the neon leaving you and Simon basked in darkness. His pale skin is illuminated by the light from the stairway behind the counter. You turn around to meet him and are caught by the glow of him with the back light. He stands like some bygone god, ever vigilant, but his eyes and hair are soft. He carries your bag looking down at you with curiosity.

“What is it, Dove?”

He asks you but your mind is drawn back to the wildness of the sea earlier. You liken it to Simon in your mind. Something beautiful but with the wilderness within, a man of scars and hewn edges. Someone with a stormy past. Your mind swirls with storm clouds, yet here is this man who has taken a step to attach himself to you.

You want to reach up and touch him, like some modern adonis with honey for eyes and a deep voice. But something caught in your throat, there was so much untold in this story, this connection that it made you stumble. Who was he to step into your dreams? Instead, you step forward to meet him. You raise a hand in question, He steps forwards and meets your palm. His large hands engulf yours.

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

Taglist!

@ghostlythots, @tapioca-milktea1978, @cmbghost

End Chapter 5

Note: This was shorter than I really wanted it to be so expect 6 to be longer!

#cod mw2 2022 fanfic #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap and reader #simon riley fluff #fanfiction #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #on the same page #captain johnathan price #john price #Simon riley x you #Simon riley #cod mw2 2022 #john soap mactavish

44 notes · View notes

zaidthefeederist · 3 months

Text

Giving in to gluttony : A fit to fat story (part 1)

We were both at the gym after work just like most days. This is where we first met. I saw you on the squat rack and was enamored by your beauty (and the perfect ass you had definitely helped). I approached you and we went on a date and had been dating since then. Though we both were fitness freaks (i still am) there's a part of me i haven't told you about. A part of me that would rather have you tied up in my bed sporting a fat belly so big it hangs to your knees. I've kept it in check for as long as i can, you had only gained 10 pounds in our 4 months together and a lot of that has been muscle definition since we started working out. Today however, it all changes. One faithful injury changes everything.

"This….freaking….sucks" I say grumpy as I sit next to you in the car. We just came back from the first aid room. I look at my leg and shake my head "no lifting, no cardio…and no rock climbing for 6 months?!" I cross my arms and sigh "That also means I really have to watch what I eat…else I end up like one of those fat girls at the gym" The other day we had been making jokes about a chubby girl that was struggling to do basic cardio

"god i know baby, its not fair at all. Not having you at the gym is going to make me lose all my motivation, not to mention who else will i make fun of the fatties with" i look to you after we both laugh to ourselves.."dont worry though babe. ill take good care of you, You know i've been making myself a better and better cook. Ill make sure your diet goes exactly according to plan.." i say as i keep my hand on your toned thigh, giving it a rub and feeling ecstatic and the though of having a home bound girlfriend for 6 whole months.

**2 weeks later**

"im so bored" I sigh before taking another cookie that you made me. "Im usually at the gym right now" Another cookie goes into my stomach. I dont seem to notice the little bit of pudge that was pressing on to my waistband when I sat down like this. You had noticed that I did a lot of "boredom eating"…and recently…I had also started snacking when I was stressed or feeling a little down.

"Im done babe!" i yell, having baked another batch of cookies. The last 2 weeks have been heavenly. Turns out when liz is left to her own devices with nothing else to do, she becomes rather peckish. Its nothing insane yet but she'll never say no to a little treat every now and then. With the absence of the gym and with me making sure to always make every meal of hers just a bit more heavy, she's managed to maintain her weight at 140 pounds albeit with a major bonus. If before she was toned and slightly muscular, now shes lost her definition and is even developing a little pudge. I see her belly pressing against her waistband as she snacks on one of the cookies i made her and see it press further and further against the band as she makes the tray of cookies magically disappear.

You always made sure to take the plates away or split it in multiple portions, so I had no idea how much I was actually eating in a day. after finishing the third tray of cookies that day you see I am rubbing my belly…I was getting full and I hadn't even eaten a meal! "My tummy is a bit upset" I say as I rub it. "better drink something" I grab the glass of soda that you had brought me. I drink all of it in one go. "I can't believe this is actually sugar free" I say surprised "it tastes like one of those cheap soda's that is super b-BRUUAUUAUAAAAAAAAAP-ad " I look wide eyed and cover my mouth with a blush "s-sorry!"

"Haha that was pretty cool!" i say immediately so as to not make you think i dislike it. I cant let you know that youve given me a hard on with that deep nasty belch, at least not yet. "I don't mind babe" i say as i nuzzle in right next to you on the bed. "in fact if anything it lets me know you really enjoyed whatever i made for you so no need to apologize." i say as i keep my hand on your bloated stuffed belly, giving it a good rub. "I guess you reallly loved those cookies huh, hehe"

"I-I do" I say blushing as you rub my belly…it felt good, but it also made me a bit aware of the fact that I was softer now. "I mean…its just not very lady like to burp like that right?" I smile as you roll your eyes at me "BRUUAAAAP…ooohhff but it does make my tummy feel better"

I moan to myself making sure you don't hear me. "I'm glad you like them" i reply, both to your answer and to that big burp you let out. We spend a few more minutes like this with me rubbing your rounded gut, making you get used to the feeling, making you love my hands on your tummy, making you know i like those un-lady like burps. Im slowly easing your mind into its new state. The state of pure gluttony. Before i get up from bed i decide to try one more thing, i grab your belly and give it a hard pinch and lean up next to your ear "You were a good girl today, keep eating like this and soon you'll be like those fatties at the gym". I whispered it and said it in a teasing tone, but i could tell by your breathing…it did its job. My eyes go wide and my face goes dark red. Did he really just say that?…Is he making a joke?…why do I like him teasing and humiliating me?! I look down and my heart beats even faster, judging by the bulge in your pants…you really liked seeing me like this. "w-what?….a-are you trying to make me fat?" I ask in a soft voice. You just smile, gently kiss my belly before squeezing it again and leave with the empty plates…Am I really going to get fat?

#feedee belly #feedee encouragement #feeding kink #feedee piggy #stuffed feedee #girl burp #fat belly #belly expansion #fit to fat #force fed #manipulation #feedee girl #wg text #teasing #chubby #feederist #short story #feedee story

27 notes · View notes