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dollfacefantasy · 6 months

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You Make Me Cry Every Time

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon's going through a rough patch, and he takes it out on you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, angst, hurt/comfort, leon is mean in the beginning, toxic behavior i guess, implied age gap

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i was going through it and feeling emo so i wrote this. hope everyone enjoys as always <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight

The clock on the end table reads 2:43. Muted sounds of nightlife fill the space outside the walls of your apartment. You’re sprawled across the couch, half-asleep, with a soft blanket draped over you. You were waiting for your boyfriend to come home. Again.

Leon had been going through a rough patch. He was moody and ready to snap at any moment it seemed. He drank a lot, and he was gone all the time. You knew he had been through so much and there was no end in sight. That’s why you tried to put up with it, but all of it was weighing down on you too.

You sharply inhale as the sound of keys being jammed into the lock on the front door rouses you from your stupor. Sitting up straight, you rub your face tiredly. Your eyes are still adjusting to the darkness of the living room when the door opens. A beam of light from the hallway shoots across the floor, but it’s gone just as fast as it appears. You hear the lock click again and then see his shadow brush through the room as if you aren’t even there.

He’s in the kitchen now, and you’re not even fully sure of what he’s doing. But you pad in his direction anyways. Your soft voice breaks through the tense silence with a gentle call of his name.

“Leon?”

He turns to you. Even in the dark when you can’t fully see, you can feel the harsh nature of his stare.

“What are you doing up? Told you to stop waiting up for me,” he grumbles.

His tone stings, but you continue to approach him.

“I just worry. I can’t sleep if I don’t know you made it home safe,” you explain yourself quietly.

“Just go to bed. I’ll be there in a second,” he says and turns away again. But before he speaks, you swear you could hear him scoff.

You didn’t understand where his sudden apparent resentment towards you came from. He had always dealt with so much, constantly feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. But until the last few months, he never took it out on you. Now though, it felt like you were dancing across a floor full of glass shards to avoid setting off an outburst of his.

“I just want to make sure you’re alright,” you say, keeping your voice quiet and cautiously laying your hand on his back.

It immediately became clear to you that touching him was the wrong choice though. He shrugs you off and pushes your hand back down to your side. Now that you were closer, you could smell the scent of booze on him. It wasn’t as heavy as previous nights, but it was still present. You retract your hand and stare at him with concern.

“Leon, what’s wrong? Have I done something to upset you? We can talk about it. I-” you try to defuse the situation before he cuts you off.

“Jesus fucking Christ, it’s enough,” he snaps. He fully pulls away from you. “Take a hint. Go to bed.”

He speaks with such disdain for you, it makes your chest ache. “I was just trying to help,” you say, looking like a kicked puppy more and more with each passing moment. He takes no sympathy on you though.

“Well, you aren’t helping. You don’t know shit about my problems, so stop trying to fix them,” he says to you, his voice ice cold.

“I’m not trying to fix anything. I’m just trying to be there for you because I love you!” you defend. His miserable disposition was starting to frustrate you. This wasn’t the first time you’d jumped through these hoops for him.

“Oh, bullshit,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

That slices through you like a knife. Your lips part slightly in shock, and your words tangle up in your throat. You fight back tears, not wanting to seem even more pathetic to him.

“I can see what you want. You want the old me back. But he’s not coming back. He doesn’t exist anymore,” he rants at you.

“I never said that. You can’t get mad at me for problems you’re creating!” you say to him angrily and cross your arms.

“Aw, you don’t want me to get mad at you? Did I hurt your feelings, baby? Am I being mean to you?” he mocks with a cruel smile before his emotionless expression returns, “Grow the fuck up.”

You try to ignore his teasing and work towards a solution, but that really hurt. And it seemed like he said it with no thought or remorse, like he had been storing that and it just came out. Tears burn in your eyes and a lump rises in your throat, but you manage to choke out your next statement.

“All you do is push me away. I can’t help you because you won’t even tell me what’s wrong,” you say, forcing your voice to stay even.

“I push you away because you can’t handle real problems. You show me that over and over again. I mean, look, you’re almost in tears, and I haven’t said anything that bad,” he says with a gesture to your eyes.

“If I’m so fucking immature and selfish, why are you even with me?” you ask. A few tears leak from your eyes and down your cheeks but you wipe them away as quickly as you can.

“You know, I’ve been asking myself that question a lot recently, and it’s getting harder and harder for me to come up with an answer,” he says. He keeps eye contact with ease. His voice is laced with venom. There’s no trace of anything but bitter anger.

You honestly struggle to come up with a response. But that’s ok because he doesn’t wait for one before he continues speaking.

“I mean really, what do I get from this relationship? I know what you get. You get the attention you’re so fucking desperate for. But me? What do I get?” he asks, “A dumb little girl who follows me around like a lost puppy? I mean you’ve definitely got a pretty face, but it’s everything else that’s getting harder for me to stomach.”

You can’t stop yourself at this point. He knew how to break you down. Your lip juts out ever so slightly and quivers as tears slide down your cheeks. You take a step back from him and look down.

“There we go. Always with the fucking crying,” he sighs. His tone becomes mocking again as he continues. “You want me to kiss it better, sweetheart? Tell you everything’s gonna be ok. That I’m so so sorry.”

“No,” you cry, trying to defend yourself, “I don’t want any of that from you.”

“I’m sure,” he says flatly.

“Fuck you, Leon,” you weep, “I can’t win with you. You’re absolutely hellbent on being miserable. I’m done. Deal with your shit on your own. I don’t give a fuck.”

You turn on your heel and rush off to the bedroom. You fling the door shut, the thud of the slam echoing through the apartment.

At first, Leon didn’t care. His initial reaction was a shrug. He walks over to the couch, puts his feet up on the coffee table, and turns on the tv to some old movie. He was in a pissy mood, and he especially wasn’t in the mood to deal with you.

But as time goes on, and he sits there alone, a sense of shame starts to cast a shadow over his heart. He keeps seeing your face in his head. The soft look in your eyes while they were full tears he caused. Your body language as he ridiculed you, shrinking away from him, eager to get away but afraid of looking weak. He could hear a replay of his voice spitting out every callous thing he could think of. He felt like such an asshole.

It didn’t help that he was surrounded by things of yours. You’d brought out a pillow and blanket for yourself while you stayed up for him. They smelled like you. On the table, you had a book you’d been reading for a while. You’d tell him parts and explain the drama to him when he wasn’t in a bad mood. The tv remotes, spare the one he had grabbed, were organized in the particular way you always did when you watched tv. He felt the void in his heart growing as you stayed shut away in the bedroom.

You weren’t faring much better. You curled up under the comforter on the bed, crying softly into the pillows. You were missing your favorite one since you’d left it out on the couch. You felt a deep ache in your abdomen, a weight that kept you thinking about him and everything he’d said to you.

Despite how tired you’d been before he came home, you couldn’t sleep now. No position felt comfortable. Nothing made the bed feel less empty.

You felt so pathetic. You should be mad at him, furious, enraged. He acted like such a dick. He said things that gave you reasonable grounds to kick him out. But you didn’t feel that way. You didn’t want that. You were heartbroken. He was right. You yearned for him to kiss it better and tell you it was all ok and that he didn’t mean any of it.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it. You give in. It was humiliating, but that was what you chose. You pad into the living room skeptically. You stand a distance from the couch, afraid of setting off another landmine. But if he wanted to yell, you’d let him at this point. You just wanted him.

He sees you standing near the opening to the hallway that entered the living room. You looked so sad, it tore at his heart. Your face was a mess, your posture was so timid. What was wrong with him?

“Come here,” he sighs and pats his lap.

Without hesitation, you cross the room. You’re in his arms, against his chest. Your arms are wrapped around him tight while your head is buried in the crook of his neck. You start crying again, but you keep it as quiet as possible, still hearing always with the fucking crying ringing through your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out as you struggle to restrain a sob. You didn’t even know what you were really apologizing for. “I don’t wanna fight anymore.”

Another deep sigh escapes him. It could have been interpreted as annoyance, but you could tell it was regret. He rubs your back and holds you close against him.

“Shhh shhh. It’s alright, baby. It’s ok,” he says softly before stroking your hair, “We’re ok. I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” you weep and cling to him.

“No, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t be so quick to snap at you,” he says in a hushed tone. He kisses your head and continues rubbing your back, something he always did to calm you down.

He kept his voice quiet to keep his own emotions in check. He wanted you to be ok and to know he was sorry. But you didn’t need to know how awful this made him feel. Guilt was gnawing at him now as he watched you cry out the pain his words had inflicted on you. He gently rocks back and forth with you, wanting to calm you down even more.

“Baby, this isn’t your fault. None of this is,” he says, “I got my own shit going on, and I take it out on you because it’s easy.”

His voice drops to a whisper towards the end of his statement. His words dripped with shame.

“You don’t deserve the shit I say to you, but I just see you standing there, looking so fucking sweet and perfect and you’re looking at me with all the love in the world and I can’t fucking take it,” he says, his voice cracking a little, “I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes, you do,” you cry, grabbing onto him tighter.

“No, I don’t. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. Staying up every night, waiting for a mean old fuck to come home and yell at you,” he says. It was now his turn for his eyes to water while a lump grows in his throat.

You were at another loss for words. You didn’t know what would convince him not to feel so down on himself. Instead, you press a soft kiss to the side of his throat. He tilts his head back and deeply exhales at the pure gesture.

“And when I said I didn’t know why we were still together… I hope you know what a huge lie that was,” he says, “You’re all I have in this ugly god damn world. That’s it. Without you, I’d just be going through the motions.”

You gaze up at him as he goes through this. You curl your legs up on his lap with the rest of your body and lean into his touch in an attempt to offer him some comfort.

“And when I look at you, I see the opposite,” he says, his voice fully breaking now, “I see someone who has her entire future ahead of her, and she’s wasting it hanging around a guy like me.”

“You’re not a waste,” you say, sitting up and placing your hand on his cheek.

Your thumb moves back and forth in tiny motions, dragging across the skin soothingly. You both stare into each others’ tearful eyes.

“You’re not a waste to me. I love you. You’re important to my life too,” you say seriously looking at him.

“Baby…” he sighs. You were so fucking cute. If he had any spine, he would break up with you. Force you to do better for yourself. But he couldn’t. He knew in his heart of hearts that he would never be able to let you go.

You lean in and give him a soft kiss. You rub your nose with his. You shift on his lap to be in a better position to give him your affection.

His hands fall to your hips to steady you. He returns the gesture and presses two gentle kisses of his own to your cheeks. “I’m sorry, angel,” he whispers.

You lean in for more kisses, accepting the apology with your actions. You rub the back of his neck and press your body against his. The question of whether he deserved forgiveness crossed your mind, but you didn’t dwell on it. You didn’t really care.

He groans into the kiss as he feels your breasts flush against his chest. Your tongue enters his mouth, and he returns the passion. In a few minutes, saliva coats your lips and your breathing is heavy. You gently roll your hips down.

He feels that as soon as you do it. He disconnects his lips for a moment and looks at you with dilated pupils. You rock your hips again, bringing down your clothed cunt on his jeans. The stiff fabric gives you a good amount of friction and coaxes a whine from your throat.

“Honey,” he grunts, “Are you sure? You’re not just doing this because… because you think you have to, right?”

He didn’t want you using sex because you thought that’s what would please him. But he also couldn’t ignore the feeling of his cock hardening in pants.

You shake your head, panting as you grind on him, your lips still flushed from making out. “I wanna feel your love,” you say, your voice breathless.

That didn’t make him feel much better, but you felt so fucking good. “Babe, I can make you feel loved in other ways. Afterwards, I can show-”

“Wanna feel close,” you say before kissing him some more to shut him up.

Well, this would be as close as you could get. That put him at enough ease to give in to his urges. He grabs your hips harder, kneading the flesh of your ass too, and guides your movements. Both of you let out pleasurable sounds at the sensation.

“So fucking good to me,” he grunts, “My perfect girl.”

Your hips don’t stop as you pull off your thin sleep top. Your head falls back at the muted pleasure you were receiving from rubbing yourself on him.

His hands leave your hips and cup your tits. He squeezes them and then brings his mouth to a nipple. He flicks his tongue on the peak and swirls it with dedication. You let out a breathy whine.

He scoots you closer and continues his mouth’s work on your chest. His cock was now completely stiff in his pants, offering you even better friction. You feel it pressing on your clit just how you like, and you bite your lip. He can tell it’s feeling good.

He pulls his lips away from your nipples. Then he lays a few wet kisses on your jaw before picking you up by the waist and laying you back on the couch. He tugs off your shorts and panties.

His hand slides between your legs. He drags his fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you were.

“Such a sweet girl,” he breathes and captures your lips again in a quick kiss, “You’re soaked, babydoll.”

You nod timidly. He rubs you a little more, circling your throbbing clit and gliding over your wanting hole. You bite your lip and moan softly. Your hips rock against this touch as well before you suddenly whimper at a loss of contact and look up to see him sliding your fingers in his mouth. He groans at the taste of you before pulling the fingers back out of his mouth.

Reaching down, he unbuckles belt and drops his pants to the floor. He strokes his solid, flushed cock a few times. With the faint glow of the tv casting over the two of you, you can see a bead of precum emerging from the head. He adjusts his stance and positions himself at your entrance.

“I’m so sorry, little love. Let me try to make it better,” he breathes as he pushes inside.

Moans bubble in his throat as your tight, wet heat engulfs him. His head tilts back, and a ragged breath puffs from his lips. He grips the back of your thighs and holds your legs up.

He’s slow at first, dragging himself in and out, making sure to feel every inch of you. Your eyes flutter at the feeling, and your hips squirm for more.

As he begins to really thrust and set a consistent pace, he leans down to kiss you again. It’s sloppy and rushed, but he needed to feel you like this. He needed to feel that he hadn’t broken the connection you two had.

“My precious fucking girl. Am I making you feel good? Do you feel close to me?” he grunts, his grip tightening, “Can you tell how much I love you?”

You whine in response and nod. Your body heats up as he continues to slide in and out. He stretches you out just the way you like, fills you up so perfectly. He hits every sweet spot inside of you to make you forget he was even capable of saying such mean things sometimes.

You reach your arms up and pull his head down to rest against your neck. Your eyes were still full of your tears from earlier and a few slip out because of the strong difference between the euphoria of right now compared to the despair of the last hour.

One of your thighs drops back on the couch as the hand that was holding it comes up to your hair. He laces his fingers through the strands and begins pressing messy kisses to the side of your throat.

“My pretty baby,” he whispers against your skin, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

His hips continue their movements, his pelvis connecting with the skin of your ass over and over. He nuzzles your neck. You can hear his mix of harsh pants and soft groans right next to your ear. You cling to him as the heat inside you rises.

“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart. Wanna make sure you’re getting everything you deserve,” he says.

“Feels perfect,” you whimper after a string of moans, “I- I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Me too, doll,” he says. His hips piston into you harder. Your hands dig into the muscles of his back while your toes curl

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Leon,” you choke out as a cry leaves you.

“Mhm, good baby. I want you to cum for me, honey. I want you to feel so fucking good. Let it all go,” he says.

His hand slides from his hair to your face and brushes away some of your tears. He kisses your cheek softly as you fall over the edge into bliss. Your body convulses underneath him as you release. You moan and writhe and the whole time he strokes your hair, cooing at you “my pretty girl” and “so so good for me.”

You were so tight around him. The sight of your eyes squeezing shut and your lips parting in ecstasy was too much for him. He thrusts into you a few more times before a moan rumbles through his chest and out of his mouth. He slams deep inside of you to spill himself. Hot, thick ropes of cum flood your insides.

You were shaky and trembling as he pulled out and planted a kiss on your forehead. He sits back on the couch, pushing the hair out of his face before pulling you up and close to him. He positions you on his lap and holds you to his chest.

He starts rubbing your back again and kissing your hairline. “Love you, babydoll. So so fucking much,” he whispers.

Your eyes close as you return the embrace and melt into his lap. You nuzzle and kiss his chest, relaxing into the affection.

“There’s my girl. All mine,” he coos.

You nod, enjoying the nice moment and letting yourself pretend that this whole cycle wouldn’t repeat in a few days time.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

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porcalinecunt · 6 days

Note

boothill punishing reader for calling him ‘just a fucktoy’ so he turns them into one :3

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐘!

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ friendly banter often devolved into mean spirited teasing, but there’s a fine line that you regretfully cross. Or did you?

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐗 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

cw — mean dom! boothill. window sex. degradation. overstimulation. humiliation kink. biting. dumbification(?)

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : ignore the fact that i forgot boothill cannot curse SHHHHH. but it’s finally done and im too tired to proofread this ;-;

friendly banter was a given in your relationship with boothill. you couldn’t help yourself to the free entertainment as the cyborg was forced to get creative with the troublesome filtering system that was installed in his mechanical body, much to his annoyance.

every swear word he spat out, every nasty phrase that’d slip off his tongue would become the polor opposite. it’d make you chuckle a bit hearing him call you the sweetest names with reluctance in his voice.

you on the other hand, often have a whole field day with it. spewing out sarcastic and maybe creative remarks just to rile him up even more, only to burst out laughing at his failed comebacks. it was a constant spit for spat that would last until one of you gave up and ended it with a soft make out session or cuddling in your shared bedroom. however, there’s an invisible line in the sand, one you wished you could’ve seen.

another back and forth, like usual. as the more aggressive you got with boothill, so does your language. you teetered on the edge of your own teeth, slowing coming at his little fuck up’s like his heavily filtered system and his obnoxious munching of his own bullets. the ranger would shoot back with his own attempts, only passing off sarcastic and subtle remarks about that mouth of yours. the tension in the air only grew thicker and thicker before your words finally cut it in two.

“I dunno why you should be talkin’ bootie, after all, you're just a fucktoy! ♡”

a cackle bursted from your lungs, as you tried to catch your breath. while you were stuck in a state of victory from having the last laugh, you didn’t quite catch the sudden silence that washed over the room until a chill shot at the back of your neck. turning your head, you were met with an unamused boothill, jaw clenched and eyes burning holes into your skull. your laugh diminished into tiny nervous sounds as the machine promptly marched his way to you, ignoring your babbles and apologies as your back pressed against the wall. you understood quickly that despite the unhinged nature of your verbal play fights, there’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

a raspy chuckle tickled your eardrums. “me? a fucktoy? now look who’s talkin’ sweet thing..”

boothill, now wearing a hungry grin on his lips, promptly threw you over his shoulder with a harsh smack! on your ass. before you could protest, you were chucked onto the nearest soft furniture he saw, in this case being the couch.

the window in front of it showing off a dazzling view of Penacony, the perfect place to show you off. it didn’t take long for your clothes to be torn clean off by his metal fingers and discarded on the floor while you whined loudly. something that warranted a palm over your pouty lips.

“shh, now now doll..i don’t think fucktoys can speak. Now can they?”

he spoke with faux sympathy traced in his tone, as you could only lie there helplessly while his cold hands traced your delicate flesh. boothill was an unpredictable man, some nights he takes it easy while the others have his more cynical nature leak through, tonight being the latter. you screwed your eyes shut once pleasure crawled through your skin, the ranger prying and poking at every sensitive corner of your body. from his ice cold fingers pinching your hard nipples, to his shark-like teeth nipping at your neck.

“a-sll this..over an insul–”

“shut it.”

you flinched, unable to prepare yourself for what the machine had in store for you. you nearly forgot how hard he can be, until you felt something poking at your thighs.

seven rounds, and he had yet to stop.

your jaw went slack so long ago, nothing but incoherent words and pleading coming out of your fucked out mouth. the taste of his spit lingered on your tongue which rolled out and is now pressed against the glass with the rest of your naked body.

“Ah..! B-Boothill! T-They’ll see uh—us!”

you whimpered, unable to string two words together without a sharp thrust ripping another sound out of your throat. through blurred vision, you could see Golden Hour in all its glory, praying that nobody spots your ilicit act with the ranger. your knees buckled, already weak from how long you’ve been standing without a break as boothill snapped his hips against yours while his teeth sunk into your shoulder for what seemed like the upteenth time.

“you think i give a crap doll? now keep that pretty mouth shut like i asked.”

he hissed in your ear, squeezing the plush of your thighs that were littered with teeth marks. you mewled, feeling the knot in your stomach snapping once again and throwing you into another intense orgasm. your hand curled up into a tight fist, almost banging itself against the foggy glass as stars filled your vision. a raspy chuckle was all you could hear, courtesy of an insatiable and spiteful boothill. he watched as you lost balance and fell onto his metal chest, breathing heavily between sobs.

“awee..~ tired already, doll?”

he cooed, you just wanted to sock his stupid smirk off his face. instead, you pouted, letting out an annoyed whine as you squirmed from his cock simply sitting inside you without moving an inch.

“maybe watch that tongue next time, hon’. then i’ll go easy on ya.”

he laughs, before pressing your limp body against the messy glass again and snapping his hips against yours with his relentless pace. feeling your brain melting from the overwhelming amount of cock he’s stuffing into you, you could only hang on for dear life as boothill made you eat your own words.

quite literally too.

#𓆩♱𓆪 — porcalinecunt #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail boothill #hsr boothill #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #x gn y/n #x gn reader #gn!reader

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stars-for-circe · 4 months

Text

Dead Men Tell No Tales

Tags / cw: Pirate Age (1650 - 1730s), fluff, Pirate!Abby, Mermaid!reader, slight somno (reader kisses an unconscious Abby), mentions of drowning, piracy, strangers to lovers

Taglist: @ourautumn86 @peanutbutterandjayjay @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @r3starttt

Walking the plank was something Abby knew well, having seen it every few moons. After all, piracy always came with disloyalty - the promises of gold and rum being too tempting not to betray your crew for. But walking the plank herself? That, she was not prepared for.

Hands tied behind her back and a gag in her mouth left only a deathly glare for Abby to give to the men behind her. The men, her crew, behind her. And at least they had the fucking decency to look shameful.

“Captain, why the long face?”

…except for one.

She should have never let that fucker on her ship. Right from the beginning, he was suspicious. It was weird enough that he had managed to sneak onto her ship at the last port, and even weirder that he seemingly had no motive. Abby should have known that his promises of a map in return for safety were empty. That his objective was her fucking ship, not the treasure her crew had sought after. Another boot pushing into Abby’s back made her groan out a muffled swear, the end of the plank now dangerously close.

“Any last words? Advice maybe, for your loyal crew.” A smug snicker broke the silence afterwards. And then an exaggerated sound of realisation as he gestured with his sword to her gagged mouth.

“You must pardon my ignorance captain, I must have forgotten!”

Suddenly, a harsh kick to the base of her spine left Abby screaming in pain as she fell over the edge of the plank. The wind howling in her ears as she scrunched her eyes shut and braced for the ice cold impact of the storming ocean. But the last thing Abby heard was instead his taunting voice that followed her into the depths of the sea.

“Dead men tell no tales.”

A haunting cackle left his mouth as Abby plunged into the vicious swell. The current overpowered her easily, each wave more fierce that the last, throwing her around like a mangled toy. She could no longer tell which was up or down, but the feeling of being pulled down lower and lower gave Abby a sinking feeling that it wasn’t her ship she was heading towards.

Thrashing hard against her binds, she regained her bearings and tried desperately to kick up to the surface, the water surrounding her no longer disturbed by the storm, but instead of Abby’s panicked movements. But it was futile, Abby realised, as she saw that what was once a dark ocean around her was now her own life flashing past. How cliche, she thought.

And it had been a long time since Abby had last dreamt like this - as if death had allowed her one final moment of reminiscing before she was met with its cold embrace. She saw herself as a young girl begging her father to let her sail, dreaming of conquering the seven seas, fighting pirates, finding the most enchanting merpeople along the coasts. Like waves rolling over each other, the played over again and again, each time becoming more blurry than the last.

And when it finally ceased, Abby spent her last breath on a silent vow on revenge. As the ocean pulled her down from the violent waves into its abyssal depths, she swore it. No matter how many lifetimes it took, she would come back and fucking kill him.

Human lips were so enchanting. Unlike yours, Abby’s were pinker, and chapped - most likely due to the fact she didn’t live underwater like you. Heavens, it wasn’t just her lips. Her entire self had you absolutely entrapped with her beauty. Her structured face (that, for some reason, still displayed a frown and furrowed brows, even in her unconscious state), her long hair that was splayed around her head, and her body.

God, her body. You couldn’t help your wandering eyes after you had pulled her ashore from trailing down lower and lower. Her drenched shirt, slightly transparent and clinging to herself, proved as the perfect window for you to see her well built arms and…..other areas, too.

Fuck, you shouldn’t be getting distracted at a time like this. Your family would already be beside themselves with you interacting with a human, fancying one would probably get you exiled. But you really couldn’t help it.

When you had saved Abby last night, it was purely by chance. You were trying to swim down to the ocean floor to stay safe from the stormy surface, and you should have done so. But on your way down you had felt a large splash ripple through the water, and then you saw her. Illuminated by striker of lightning, she was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. And you tried to keep your distance at first. After all, her feet weren’t bound together so she could have swam up herself. But when you noticed her go limp, you couldn’t stop yourself from helping her.

And it wasn’t like you’d be caught, she was fucking unconscious. So you grabbed Abby as fast as you can and pulled her to the surface, and eventually, to the shoreline. You knew this island had people somewhere, so it would only be a matter of time before someone found her - she was safe here, and you could leave her, right? No, but what if she didn’t wake up? What if no one found her in time? What if they tried to hurt her?? Maybe it was best if you stayed until she woke up.

And now here you were, on the beach of a strange island, making fucking heart eyes at a human of all things. A human with the prettiest face you’d ever seen, though. A human, who was still bound and gagged, you realised (no, you weren’t making another excuse to touch her, she really needed your help this time). Tentatively, you reached out and carefully rolled her over. Which was fucking hard considering you could only use your core strength, but you managed to untie her hands and lay her back on her back.

Slowly, you trailed your eyes back up from Abby’s arms to her face, capturing and memorising each and every part of her as your hands followed in suit. And gently, you cradled her head up to undo the binds around her mouth, before placing her back down as they fell apart beneath her.

To anyone else, the angry red marks rubbed raw against her cheeks, agitated and sore from the ropes, would be a disgusting sight. Yet you found her, still, an absolutely breathtakingly beautiful sight. The way it traced her cheekbones, stopping at the edges of her mouth, where pink lips met the marks and met at a soft Cupid’s bow. God, were you being punished for something?

The one person, you couldn’t have, a human, just had to have the most kissable lips out of everyone you had ever met, and it was forbidden. Not only that, she wasn’t even fucking awake, either!

…she wasn’t awake.

She would never know.

No one would, you thought as you stared curiously down at Abby. One moment of self indulgence to end the hours of suffering and pining, that’s all it would be. No one would know, not Abby, and least of all your family. And if anything, it could be considered a ‘thankyou’ for not letting Abby drown in the first place.

You glanced up to the sky, almost daring your ancestors to stop you, before looking back down at Abby. Tentatively, you traced the back of your hand against the side of her face before cupping it into your palm. And with the other, you gently moved the hair splayed around her forehead as you took a long glance to her face. Fuck, you were in over your head. After a deep breath in, you felt yourself moving closer as you closed your eyes, and finally, you sighed as your lips met with hers.

They were cooler to the touch than expected, you thought. But that was probably because the poor girl had just taken an involuntary swim in the ocean. She tasted almost salty, you realised, as you deepened the kiss, how softly moving them against hers. With your eyes closed, all your senses zeroed in on kissing Abby, the roaring waves and screeching seagulls simply turning into static noise. All you focused on was kissing her properly before you would never see her again.

So maybe that was why you could almost feel her moving her lips against yours, returning your kisses with a soft fervour that was so delicate you could have imagined it. A soft hum escaped your mouth as you traced your tongue against her lips, lost in her taste, her touch, her. And it was only when you felt a hand softly tracing up your spine that you realised you weren’t imagining it, that Abby was really kissing you back.

Almost as fast as it had started, you bolted up away from her mouth, a panicked gasp leaving your own. Your eyes darted around her face for signs that she was fully awake, and when you noticed her relaxed state, you let out a sigh of relief. While she may have been conscious enough to kiss you back, Abby was still too out of it to notice where the fuck she was (and why a mermaid was making out with her).

Thankfully, you had time. A very short amount, you realised, as you noticed Abby coming to much faster than before, but time to hide nonetheless. Reluctantly, you took your hands away from her face and moved her hand off your back, before glancing behind you to look for an escape route. And luckily, there was one. As you dragged yourself to the rock pools, you shot Abby one last, longing glance before turning back around and diving into the shallow water from a rock platform. Praying that you were fast enough, you whispered a goodbye to Abby before swimming away to your family, who were surely worried about your whereabouts by now.

And you were. Fast enough, that is. In fact, you were so swift with your departure that you had failed to stay around long enough and see Abby open her bleary eyes and take in her surroundings. But maybe that was a good thing considering how you would have gotten lost in their grey-blue beauty. And maybe you were lucky that Abby didn’t see you go, because the best explanation she could come up with as to how the fuck she didn’t die was simply that the tide had brought her to shore, somehow.

But, for some reason, Abby could not shake the feeling that she had been helped, and she could not shake the dream she had before waking up of someone before her, untying her ropes and caressing her face. She could not shake the feeling of scales morphing into soft skin against her hand as the moving it up higher and higher. And for some fucking reason, Abby could not, for the life of her, shake the feeling against her lips. Like they were kiss-bitten and tingling, and warmer than they should have been considering how cold the rest of her was.

Maybe, if Abby had focused on her surroundings more than her recollection, she would have noticed the obvious trail in the sand leading to the rock pools on her right. And noticed that strangely large tail peeking through the now settling swell in the distance - much to large to be a fish, but too colourful to be a dolphin’s, either. But no, all Abby could really focus on was how for some reason, that stupidly warm, soft feeling on her lips felt nice. Pleasurable, even. But also, how the fuck she was getting off this island.

#tlou2 #abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #the last of us 2 #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson tlou2 #wlw #sapphic #bisexual #lesbian

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bahrtofane · 4 months

Text

kylians sick, and only you can make him feel better

word count - 1.1 k+

watch it - pure fluff ^^

-----

kylian feels like shit. a pile of straight garbage. what he thought was a small headache and stuffy nose has snowballed full force into the worst cold he’s had since he was like 5. at least he hopes it’s just a cold.

his eyes droop wet and cloudy with the tears that he keeps blinking away. he desperately wants to go to sleep but the constant leaking of his nose and the feeling of being permanently submerged in water from his ears down is making that impossible. his left ear hurts with each movement of his head, god forbid he yaws, not only does it send a shock wave of pain to his ear but also makes the swelling of his sore throat that much more apparent.

his head pounds, phone long forgotten somewhere tossed on the floor. and to top it all off he thinks he’s running a fever. it’s so cold, no matter how hard he tries to sink deeper into his mattress, hugging his comforter tighter, he can’t fight the constant chill that creeps up his spine.

it’s around 2 am last time he checked. god fucking dammit he just needs to go to bed. he so desperately wishes you were here, to kiss away his frustrated tears, tuck him into bed properly, make him feel better. but he doesn’t want to bother you. especially not at this time. he can power through this, he knows he can.

hours pass by in agony. the sweat has pooled in his sheets, sticking it to him and permanently settling in a cold he can’t shake off. it’s shit. he feels like shit. he probably smells like it too. And to make everything so much fucking better training is first thing tomorrow morning. Shit shit shit shit.

why does this always happen to him at the most inconvenient of times. what it the hair he didn’t dry off before bed 2 days ago? the coat he didn’t wear when taking the trash out? ice water he drank after practice? holy fucking shit, he writhes in his sheets and comforters again, silently praying to any entity out there to end this suffering.

the pain and exhaustion is what knocks him out. for better or worse.

——-

kylian eyes open blearily, blinking away harsh rays of sunlight and crusties from the restless night. when he wakes he realizes one of two things, 1) it’s way, way, past training, and 2) he feels impossibly worse.

he doesn’t get out of bed, mainly because he just can’t. the pain has immobilized him, fearing if he so much as moves an inch it’ll sink him further into helpless suffering.

so he whines pitifully and closes his eyes tight.

——-

he’s woken up again, but not by the sun, or pain. it’s the sound of his door opening that startles him awake. lovely, absolutely marvelous. he’s fucking bed ridden and about to be robbed. what a time to be alive.

the footsteps don’t sound like an intruders, soft and gentle as they pad around his apartment. kylian waits in silence. what if it’s someone sent to check on him? hakimi most likely.

when the door to his room opens he’s never been happier to be wrong.

it’s you, standing in his hoodie, wrapped in one of the blankets he leaves on the couch. a god send.

you take one look at his feeble state and frown.

“kyky?”

all he can do is manage a garbled response, more of a pitiful whine.

you rush over, kicking the blanket off and rushing up to cup his face in your hands.

“my sweet baby, are you sick?” you murmur.

a weak nod.

“shit you're burning up, hold on.”

you come back with a thermometer, gently opening his mouth and setting it under his tongue.

“hold still baby.” you whisper, hand holding his jaw in place, he almost melts into your touch.

he waits for what feels like hours, till the little beeps go off and you gently remove the plastic from his mouth.

“you have a fever all right. i prescribe to you bed rest, lots of fluids, and tylenol for the pain. “

he blinks sleepy and you take that as an answer.

you get to work tidying up his room for him while he blinky sleepily as you.

"just rest, I'll call the team for you."

he goes back to the safety of sleep the moment you finish your sentence.

—--

when he wakes out yet again, its to you at the foot of his bed, and a bowl of spoop in hand.

he grimaces at the thought but you shake your head, "you gotta eat baby."

he all but sobs trying to get up to eat properly, but you make it work. gently spooning the hot soup into his mouth.

it takes a little while but the soup is half done when he calls it quits. flopping back into his expanse of pillows and blankets.

he makes a noise and you feel his hand desperately reaching for you, as meek as can be. you give it to him, gently swiping your thumb over his.

bed time proves to be a hassle as all he can do is groan in pain, begging for you to join him in the very few words he can croak out.

“if i get sick, who will take care of you? “

he stays silent, out of spite or inability remains a mystery as you tuck him into bed properly and take your things to the guest room.

——-

thankfully, it is just a cold and he’s back to his usual self in no more than 3 days. all thanks to you.

he’s a quiet type of thanker, thanks lies in his actions and eyes rather than words.

the gentle hand that rests on the small of your back, picking you up even if its just a 5 minute drive. he gets you flowers, and even takes you out to dinner.

your smiles the whole way and it makes him beyond happy.

he finally gets those kisses he wanted to bad, easy and smooth against his skin.

"thank you darling." he hums, hands on your waist, bringing you close.

you smile against his lips, melting into them once more. you sit on his lap at the edge of his bed. at the edge of the world you feel sometimes.

"come to the match?" he almost begs.

"always."

"I have a jersey I want to see you in." he plays with the hem of your shirt.

"when do you not want to see me in your jersey?" you playfully roll your eyes.

he snorts, flipping you into your back, mercilessly attacking your sides with tickles as you burst at the seams.

you laugh till you cant breath, and he's enjoying this all too much. collapsing into you when he's had enough.

"your heavy." you squeak.

he pretends not to listen, you resort to kicking him off.

"wheres this jersey ?"

he immediately jumps at this, taking your hand in his to lead you to your 50th jersey of his at this point. you don't mind, if anything it fills you with pride and joy to wear his jerseys. always his.

#kylian mbappe #kylian imagines #kylian x reader #kylian x you #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe one shot #kylian fanfic #kylian mbappe imagines #football headcanon #football imagine #kylian mbappe imagine

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gashinabts · 1 year

Text

On and Off | (m)

Word: 3.6k

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: angst, smut,

Warnings: explicit sex scene, oral sex, public sex, emotional and physical cheating, toxic relationship

summary: you and jungkook can't seem to break up.

a/n: hope you guys enjoy! btw I don't support toxic relationships just wanted to try writing it out.

Part 2 Part 3

On and off was one way to describe your relationship with Jungkook.

Jungkook lied to you that he was at his apartment but instead was at a club. “ I’m sorry I lied, I just knew you would get mad if I went to a club.” Jungkook is now outside of the club, the cold weather making his teeth chatter.

The music is obnoxiously blasting even though you and Jungkook are a good distance from the entrance. “ Yeah because you went with your douchey friend who is a cheater,” you roll your eyes.

“ Y/n let’s not make a big deal out of this. Next time I’ll tell you that I’m clubbing with Jay,” Jungkook takes his cigarettes out and he immediately puts it back in his pocket when he sees your scowl.

“ I’m making a big deal? You lied to me and went to a club…how would you like it if I lied to you, went to a club and grinded on some guys?” You cross your arms.

Jungkook sighs loudly, pulling his hair in frustration. “ God, I can’t with you…can we talk about this tomorrow?”

You smile sarcastically, “ Yeah, while you’re at it get your fucking stuff out of my apartment.” You harshly brush past him your shoulder bumping him hard. You hear him mutter a curse word.

…

“ Fuck Jungkook,” you sigh in pleasure as Jungkook eats you out on the kitchen counter. His long hair brushes the inside of your thighs and you laugh as it tickles it, Your hand brush the wavy ends and tugging it and he groans. The pleasure amplifying your core. His large hands pulling your hips closer and he eats you out more vigorously. “ I’m so close,” you cry out. A few minutes pass and you come from his mouth.

Jungkook kisses your clit and you shiver, pushing his head you away he comes up and finally kisses your lips. You taste yourself on him and smirk to yourself. Your hand travels down to his cock. Pulling your head back you take a good look at him, his lips swollen and his doe eyes staring at you with lust “ Are you gonna beg for me to take you back?” You ask as you apply more pressure to his cock not jerking him off yet.

His hands massage your thighs, his fingers inching closer to your pussy.“ I’m sorry I lied to you, baby.” Jungkook whines wanting more. He makes eye contact “ I’m an idiot.”

Smiling you jerk him off. “ Yeah I know you are .” You kiss his neck and sucking a mark. “ But I want to hear you beg.” You bite hard on his neck.

He sucks a harsh breath from the pain of your bite and your demands. Jungkook is prideful man and doesn’t like being in the wrong or begging for forgiveness. But since dating you he had to put aside his pride. Is he a masochist for loving your harsh attitude towards him. “ Take me back, baby.” Jungkook hand moves to your folds rubbing your wetness and gently inserting a finger. “ I know you want me back too,” Jungkook pulls your hair back to make eye contact with you.

And you do.

…

“ I thought you guys were done,” Mina ask. She’s confused by the way Jungkook kissed your lips and as he left to his next lecture because a day ago you were over him.

“ Yeah but then we made up,” you say. Sipping your overly sweet ice coffee that Jungkook bought. You always hated sweet drinks and you tell him all the time but he still gets them for you. “ He said he’ll do better, I don’t know how long that will last.” You throw away your still filled coffee in the trash not wanting another taste.

Mina rolls her eyes, “ If you know he’ll keep making the same mistakes, why bother dating him?” She’s been your friend since first year of college and she still wondering why you’re in a relationship with him.

“ I don’t know.” You shrug.

…

There was comfortable silence as you guys hangout in your room. Earlier you guys both watched a movie but not really paying attention to it as you guys talked throughout the majority of it. But now you are doing your assignment as Jungkook is chilling in your bed. He gets annoyed after the several notifications you receive on your phone pinging. Grabbing your phone from the charger he easily types in your password, his birthday.“ What the hell?” Jungkook eyes furrowed as he looks through your phone. You are working on your laptop and you get irritated at him looking through your phone. “ You are texting other guys,” Jungkook gets up from your bed.

“ It’s not that serious, I was just bored so I texted them. I never sent them nudes or anything.” You walk over to grabbing your phone tossing on your side of the bed. You grab his phone and he tries to grab it but you stop him. Immediately you go on instagram and look at his feed women half naked in lingerie, swimsuits etc. And see his likes and smile to yourself. “ Is this not the same thing?” You show him a women with her ass out for the camera and he obviously liked it. “ You get to like girls instagrams. Obviously you are showing interest in them. What’s the difference between you and me?” Handing his phone back he takes it back slowly.

“ Y/n that’s borderline cheating you’re talking to them, I’m just liking their pictures-“

“ If you feel that way then I’ll stop texting them. But then unfollow those girls and stop liking those pictures,” you kiss his cheek and going back to your seat to finish your assignment.

Jungkook sighs and goes to his phone and immediately unfollows all the girls. He walks back to you and shows you his instagram cleanse. Nodding you give him approval and continue your work. Through your perfield vision you see him going through your phone once more and you can assume he is blocking all the guys you were texting back.

…

Jungkook is hanging out with Namjoon and Taehyung drinking while gaming. He wins for the third time and Taehyung gets annoyed. “ Fuck this, let’s go clubbing.” Taehyung gets up putting the remote control on the table.

“ Can’t. Y/n will get upset,” Jungkook groans and he checks his phone for the time. If he would ask you right now you would get annoyed because you guys just made up from another argument. Maybe if he just hid it from you but you always managed to find out. He thinks you have someone you know from the club to tell you if he’s there.

Namjoon laughs, “ Dude I thought you guys were broken up.” Last time he was talking to Jungkook he mentioned you guys were broken up. It’s always been like this between you guys. But he doesn’t judge since he hookups with his exes.

Taehyung groans, “ Fuck it then just invite her.” Taehyung doesn’t care if you come to the club with them he just wants to get even more plastered maybe make out with someone.

Forty minutes later Jungkook is holding your waist as you order another drink from the bartender. Smiling to the bartender you hand the drink to Jungkook. He thanks you by kissing your cheek. Jungkook looks at you suspiciously as you talk to the bartender more friendly. He clears his throat and you look at Jungkook.

“ This is Yoongi,” You yell over the loud music. “ He is a TA for one of my courses. He’s a grad student.”

“ Nice to meet you,” Yoongi nods to Jungkook. And Jungkook does the same eyeing him. He’s clean cut his hair is dark and long. His voice is mellow and soothing. Jungkook thoughts disappear when Yoongi hands you a sour whiskey. “ I made it stronger for you.” Yoongi moves closer to you so you can hear him clearly.

Jungkook chuckles, he brings you closer to him. “ Alright man, we gotta head back.” He walks with you back to the table with the rest of your friends. “ Did you guys fuck ?” Jungkook ask as you take a sip of your drink.

“ Yeah…we fucked in his car.” You laugh. Jungkook looks amused and takes your drink instead sipping it, and it was a lot more stronger than his drink.

“ When?” Jungkook asked he moves your hair to the side kissing your neck.

“ Mm…three weeks ago. You broke up with me and I saw you making out with a pretty girl at a frat party.” You pull away and take your drink back sipping it. “ Did you end up fucking her?” You ask passively aggressive. Jungkook looks darkly at you.

Jungkook remembers that party too well, he pretended he didn’t see you. And made out with a random girl, didn’t bother to know her name. He just wanted to see you jealous. And he felt a weird sense of happiness seeing your upset face when you saw him making out with another girl. “ No, just made out “ Jungkook says. His fingers play with the ends of your hair.

“ Are you mad that I let him fucked me?” You tilt your head. His hands stop playing with your hair.

Jungkook smirks, “ No. Do whatever you want.” Jungkook pats your cheek before going to the dance floor. Leaving you with the drinks and the obnoxious music blaring once again. You stand there watching Jungkook bending down to whisper something to a girls ear. You got to give him credit he always manages to pick an attractive girl. If he’s going to mess around at least be with someone not ugly.

He stares at you and grabs her hips dancing to the raunchy music. The girl oblivious to the eye contact you guys are making. You take another sip of your drink watching his little stunt. Like a little kid retaliating agains their parents wishes. It’s quite amusing to you. He turns her around and pushes her dark hair and kissing her neck doing the same thing he did to you not long ago.

Annoyed you chug your drink and walk away from the scene. Heading outside for fresh air wanting to escape the humid weather in the club. Once your outside you go on your phone and go TikTok watching dumb people do dumb things. “ Y/n.” You turn around and see Yoongi holding onto his pack of cigarettes. “ You shouldn’t be out here all alone, where’s that kid at?” Yoongi takes a cigarette lighting it up. He offers you one and accept it and he lights it for you.

You ignore his question, “ You on break?” You ask.

“ Yeah decided to take it early once I saw you head outside.” Yoongi moves down and sits on the pavement to be closer to you. “ There’s supposed to be a meteor shower.” He says to lightened the mood. You look up to the sky and see nothing but dark polluted clouds.

You blow the smoke out and look at Yoongi, “ I told him that we fucked.”

Yoongi laughs in surprise, “ Why’d you lie?” All you guys ever did was kiss and you stop him before it can go any further.

You shrug, “ I wanted to see if he’d care,” you toss the cigarette putting it out.

“ Did he?” Yoongi asked out of curiosity.

“ I don’t know, he was all nonchalant about it.” You look at your phone and notice your phone was almost dead.

“ He looked irritated when you introduced me ,” Yoongi comments. Yoongi is about to say more but is interrupted when Jungkook calls your name. Yoongi gets up and holds his hand out to help you up. “ I’ll see you later.” Yoongi nods to you and walks back inside the club.

“ Is he like your new boyfriend?” Jungkook asked. “ He even helped you up. How cute of him.” Jungkook points out.

“ Yeah we can go double dates with your new girlfriend,” you roll your eyes. You brush past him and he scoffs following you.

…

The library is quiet and Jungkook is working on his chemistry work while you are typing away at your research. He’s at a dead end with a problem and ask you for your help. He watches as you explain to him and he kisses your lips as a thank you but tries to sneak his tongue in. You laugh pushing him away, “ I have to finish this,” you point to your laptop.

“ You look so hot teaching me,” Jungkook brushes your hair putting it behind your ear. He leans closer and bite your ear playfully. You chuckle shaking your head and your fingers type slower distracted by Jungkook. “ I just want to eat you out here,” Jungkook nose brushes his nose against your neck. He’s obsessed with your scent if he could he’d make a perfume out of it and spray it on his bedsheets. One of his hand goes between your thighs squeezing it. “ I’ll go under the table and fuck you with my tongue.”

You don’t know if its a curse or blessing that you are wearing a skirt. Looking around and see no one close to you guys. “ Jungkook,” you whisper as his hand moves to the front of your panties rubbing it. Slightly moving your hips upward trying to get more of his hand. He applies more pressure on clothed pussy.

Jungkook loves the way your cheeks flush and your hand trying to cover mouth. His finger move your panties to the side touching your wet folds. You gasp and he chuckles. “ I’m the only one who gets you this wet, right ?” Jungkook ask. And you nod quickly. “ Not that Yoongi guy?” He pays attention to your clit and pinches it when you don’t reply.

“ No Jungkook, just you,” you say in a shaky voice. You don’t want to speak because you’re afraid you’ll moan really loud. Jungkook smiles to himself and inserts his fingers into you. There are teeth marks on your hand as you try your best to contain your moans.

Jungkook curls his fingers and you lose it, “ Fuck yourself on my fingers babe.” And you do shamelessly moving your hips as best you could on the hard chair. Your body slumps forward and your head rest on the table. One of your hands clawing at the table. Finally your body legs and come hard against his fingers. If keeps going you know your are going to squirt, quickly one of your hands stop his bigger ones. Your breathing is heavy and deep as you try to catch your breath.

He brings his wet fingers to his mouth sucking it with pleasure. “ Let’s fuck over there,” Jungkook nods his head over the last shelf of books. It’s high enough to cover you guys and no one goes there because they aren’t required book.

Catching your breath you sit up straight. “ Hold up my friend is supposed to be coming over, I need to ask him a question” you say as you fix your panties.

“ Who? “ Jungkook ask while putting his iPad in his backpack.

“ Yoongi.” You answer honestly. Jungkook eyes closed for a hard second probably trying to figure out what to say. “ Its gonna be quick,” you kiss Jungkook’s cheek. He hums as he waits for Yoongi’s arrival.

He watches you get up and greet him from a distance. Jungkook sees Yoongi handing you a drink, and you smile while thanking him. It was a quick conversation and you wave goodbye to Yoongi going back to Jungkook. Jungkook grabs your drink and grimaces at the taste. “ Ew it’s too bitter,” he hands it back.

“ That’s how I like my coffee,” you take a sip. You pack your belongings in your backpack.

“ Oh right,” Jungkook says to himself.

…

Jungkook sees the way your always on your phone and sneaks glances not trying to make it obvious. The stifle laughs are obvious when you are texting on your phone at night when he spends the night over. Like right now you are texting and he’s playing his video games. He wants to ask you but he wants to finish his game first. “ Are you almost done?” You ask loudly, you are laying on his bed while he’s on his PlayStation. He’s been playing for two hours and you are bored. If you knew you were going to be ignored while he’s playing your would’ve not come over.

Jungkook moves his headset mic down, “ Yeah, just give me thirty minutes. This is the only time Taehyung can play with me.” You sigh and go to his kitchen to make a sandwich, and you give your other half to Jungkook. “ Thanks babe,” he grabs it not even giving you glance.

Thirty minutes past and your still waiting for him to finish his game. “ I’m just gonna go,” you get up from his bed.

“ Hold on,” Jungkook groans and he curse at Taehyung because he let an enemy shoot him. “ Just give me ten minutes.”

“ Jungkook I gave more than two hours…you wasted my time. If you knew you were going to be gaming with Taehyung why’d you invite me,” you get frustrated as he groans again. Making you feel like your the bad guy in this scenario. “ Can you stop acting like a little kid?” Annoyed with his constant groaning.

Taehyung must’ve said something because Jungkook told him to shut up and he puts away his headset. Jungkook looks at you still sitting on his gaming chair, “ Do you like picking fights with me?”

You scoff, “ Yeah I fucking absolutely love it,” your sarcasm bleeds in your words. “ You think I like having to teach you right from wrong this relationship, it’s fucking exhausting,” you wave your hands in frustration.

Jungkook humorously laughs, he takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes in frustration, “ Baby you aren’t a saint. You do the same amount of wrongs as me. Maybe worse at least I don’t fuck people when we are on breaks.” Jungkook hears your phone notification ping and it’s like bomb setting off to him. “ Y/n that better not be that guy.”

“ Who?” You try to act dumb to get under his skin. “ Oh Yoongi? Yeah we’ve been texting, we are just friends though,” you used the same line he used when he was defending himself when you caught him texting his ex girlfriend last week .

“ Y/n, don’t do that right now. This is different…you let that guy fucked you and he clearly has an interest in you,” he bites his lip piercing a bad habit he developed.

“ We were on break…remember you broke up with me,” you throw your head back annoyed at the double standards. “ You were literally dry humping that girl at the frat party in front of me and I know you fucking saw me.”

“ Is this about getting even then?” Jungkook asked. “ Do you mind if I fuck her then? Then we can really call it even.” There’s silence after his question, you just want to get out his apartment.

Grabbing your tote bag you brush past him, “ Go ahead fuck her see if I care anymore. It’s over between us,” you leave him in his room.

…

Sitting in lecture you pay attention to the lesson but get distracted when a familiar face sits down. Ignoring Jungkook you continue taking notes on your iPad pretending to be the studious person you are. He wraps his arm around your chair, his hand laying over your shoulder. There’s a reason Jungkook picked this lecture because Yoongi is the TA. Which happens to be Yoongi going over the lecture, he makes eye contact with Jungkook and halter with his words but continues to talk.

“ You blocked me,” Jungkook says quietly. “ Do you really want us to be over?” That’s the question you’ve been debating in your head. His hands grab your hand and he chuckles seeing the ring he bought you still on your finger. That’s enough for him to know the answer. Getting up he leans down and kisses your cheek, “ I’ll see you later.” Jungkook nods his head towards Yoongi leaving the lecture.

Jungkook is waiting outside of the science building when your lecture ends. He holds his hand out and you accept it like you always do. “ Let’s call it even. I’ll forgive you for fucking Yoongi,” he says to you.

“ I wasn’t asking for forgiveness,” you look up to Jungkook and he gives you blank stare. His face is so pretty that you fall so easily in his web. “ Did you fuck that girl like I told you?” Your heart stammers not wanting to hear his answer.

Jungkook stops walking his hand still holding yours. “ No.” He wants to tell you there’s no one who could hold his heart like you. That every time he kisses another girl he feels nothing but a void of emptiness. Only with you he has overwhelming feelings that he can’t describe. But he doesn’t want to give you that satisfaction easily.

“ Good,” you smile with pride bringing him down to kiss you. His hands go to your waist bringing you closer and trying to get more of your kisses, but you push his chest away before it becomes a heavy make out in public. Jungkook holds your hands once again swinging it while walking towards his car. “ I didn’t fuck Yoongi by the way,” you tell him the truth.

“ I know,” Jungkook looks back at you. “ I was just playing the same game you were playing, Y/n.” Jungkook knows that you feel the same way as him. You chuckle to yourself hearing his response and Jungkook smiles back knowing how you guys enjoy this pull and push relationship.

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navstuffs · 11 months

Note

hi dear! how you doing? please don't goo to crazy! could i request maybe a blurb or hc about leon and reader in a silly misunderstanding? like maybe they're friends and the whole situation gets them to confess? lol

A convenient misunderstanding

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: Leon thinks you are in love with someone else.

Author's Notes: hey anon, i am okay, how about you? you are so sweet, thank you so much! i made this angsty, silly and cute, so i hope you like it!

requests are open for leon, carlos, poly leon/carlos! | my leon's masterlist

You and Leon have been friends for a couple of years. It felt longer since Leon knew you better than anyone: your favorite flavor of ice cream, the temperature of your shower (not too hot, not too cold), the favorite episode of your comedy tv show, the playlist on his phone that has your name, with songs chosen by you. He cares about all the little things that matter to you because Leon likes to see you happy.

So, of course, you tell yourself you can't fall in love with him because you can't lose a friend like that, but the heart does what it wants, and in a couple of months, you realize you are doomed. Hard.

You keep those feelings bottled up for the good of your relationship, but it gets too much. So much so that Friday night, when Leon arrives at your house to watch the ridiculous-comedy-bad movie night, he finds you miserable by the sofa.

"Hey, what is wrong?"

You sniffle before you answer, opening your arms and searching for his warmth. Leon's hands immediately pull you to him, his eyes staring at you, worried. Leon looks like he is about to kill whatever made you upset.

"I think I like someone I shouldn't, Leon."

The weight of your admission heavily weighs on Leon's chest, and you can feel him freezing. His voice sounds low and almost fearful when he answers.

"Must be a lucky guy. Do I know him?"

"Yeah, you do."

Leon lets go of you, a sad smile on his face, and gently taps your chin. You really, really want to tell him, but you can't. Leon also doesn't pressure, bringing you close to him and kissing the top of your head.

Because Leon Kennedy knows exactly who that man is. His and your best friend, Luis Serra. Leon couldn't blame you: Luis always made you laugh the hardest, and Leon saw the happiness of being around him in your eyes. Leon had no hopes it was him, for more than he desired from the bottom of his heart.

"You should tell him," Leon whispers, his heart breaking a million pieces. You sigh, nodding, holding into his shirt.

So the next time Leon meets you is at a small friend gathering; the first thing Leon notices is you and Luis talking, separated from the others. He tries to be happy for you, and he indeed does, but when Luis pulls you into a hug, Leon can't bear to watch it anymore, so he leaves to the front of the house, ignoring Claire's calls for his name.

No one comes looking for him for a while, and Leon stays alone watching the stars. Soon, he hears footsteps behind him, and you join him, a drink in your hands and an adorable smile on your face. You look happy. Leon looks to the stars again, ignoring the pain in his heart but, at the same time, trying to be content for you.

"Hey."

"Claire told me to come get you. She said you left without saying anything."

"Needed some air," Leon answers straight. You are surprised by his harsh tone but don't argue. You two stay in silence for a bit until you speak again.

"Remember our conversation last Friday? About the guy I liked?"

Badum. Badum. No, please, Leon thinks, a pain deep inside his chest that he feels spreading in his soul. He really doesn't want to hear about you and Luis now, but he doesn't want to break your heart.

"I saw. Congratulations," Leon answers, crossing his arms to hide his shaky hands.

"What?"

"You and Luis. I saw. Congratulations. I am happy you confessed." Leon tried again, and you looked confused.

"Me and Luis? What are you talking about, Leon?"

"I saw you hugging him at the party?" Leon tries again, glancing at you. You still look confused, holding the cup tightly in your hands. He sighs, "Look, I am sorry, but I don't really want to hear it. I am glad you and Luis are together now, but it would be just too much for me."

"Me and Luis aren't together? What are you talking about? Nothing is going on between me and Luis!" You try to argue. Leon keeps talking over you, too absorbed and letting his feelings out, and you two end up talking over each other.

"—but, I can't, I can't see you two together. I am sorry, this is so cowardly on my part, and this is stupid, but I love you, okay? So there."

"Luis and I aren't together because the man I love is you!"

Silence. You and Leon stop, asking at the same time again.

"Did you just—?"

"Leon, did I hear—?"

Silence again, and the realization kicks in for both of you. You look down, embarrassed, your heart pounding in your chest. Leon blushes, trying to understand where he got everything wrong.

"Wait, but you told me you were in love."

"I never said it was Luis, Leon. You assumed."

"Right."

You raise your head to find your best friend completely taken back. He notices you looking at him and attempts to smile, and you close off the distance between you two, his arms going over your body as you cup his cheeks to look at you.

"You are the one I love, Leon Kennedy. I didn't say it before because I was afraid. I didn't and don't want to lose you."

"You aren't losing me. I am yours forever now." Leon whispers, rubbing your cheek. Your whole body vibrates with happiness, and when you two finally kiss, there is a sudden cheering behind you.

You and Leon separate, startled, his arms surrounding you protectively. It is your group friends, most noticeably Luis in the front, the one clapping the loudest and cheering, "Finally!" You hide your face in Leon's shoulder.

"They are never letting go of this, right?"

"Never." Leon doesn't care one bit. As long as he has you in his arms, he will be fine.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfics #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy imagine #im happy how this turned out #i hope anon doesn't mind angsty <3 #ask #asks #request #requests

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nyoomiin · 27 days

Text

roommates: part eleven.

your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)

pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader

tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure

prev. masterlist. next.

“Can't even look me in the face?” Kunikuzushi sneers. It's biting, that tone. “This is getting ridiculous.”

He stands between you and the hallway, preventing you from rushing into your room the moment you return home — a habit you had picked up on recently. It's shameful, you know. You really wish you talked it out with him earlier, but you had avoided him on pure instinct the first time you saw him and just couldn't stop.

A muttered excuse tumbles out of your lips, but it trails off, and you're left staring at him like a fool.

“I'm sorry,” you say softly, hesitantly meeting his gaze.

His arms are crossed, his brows drawn. He looks more hurt than the furious he portrays himself to be. His next words are said with stormy eyes and through gritted teeth. “I never pegged you down as the cowardly type.”

It stings, but he’s right, even if he was being rather harsh about it. You couldn't run away from it forever.

He sighs, letting his arms fall, and you watch as he brushes past you, heading for the door. Then, he pauses, turning to look at you.

“Come on,” he tells you impatiently, head cocked to the side. “What are you waiting for? I know a quiet place to talk.”

He spares you not a glance as you walk, always a step ahead as he leads you along the way. You follow him curiously, out of the city, up and down the winding paths of the forest, on a cobblestone path that turns to soil and then grass.

Crisp breeze tousles his hair, his cape flowing behind him, and starlight dusts his figure a shimmering glow. For all that it is worth, you think he looks simply angelic.

“We’re almost there,” he says, interrupting the silence.

We better be, you huff. You've been walking for ages now, and you've certainly had enough time to think over what you’d say to him.

You reach a cliff's edge, overlooking the city and the endless twilight beyond. Damn, you think. It's been a while since you've been this far out.

He sits before you do, legs dangling in the air, chin tilted up towards the skies. You lie on the grass instead, head propped up by an arm. You try not to think about how one wrong move would send you tumbling all the way down.

You tell yourself Kuni would catch you if you did.

For a second, everything is still. His eyes flutter shut, and you watch as he relaxes, as if letting something fall away. For a second, you can pretend that nothing has happened, that nothing has changed, and that you were just a dressmaker and he was just your roommate. And for a second, you entertain a ridiculous thought. You wish that you could stay in this moment forevermore.

You can't, you think. For you still had a lifetime to live.

“Will you start from the beginning?” you ask him softly.

His eyes flicker open, turning to face you almost lazily. He has a way of turning fear into confidence, you learn. He huffs. “As if you don't know the story of my creation.”

You pout. “But I want to hear it again. Pretty please?”

He relents with a sigh, and you cheer.

… It gets dark really, really fast.

“Dottore, that lunatic… He spins a ludicrous tale of how Niwa had killed you for your heart, then fled out of guilt.” Kuni's tone drips with derision, and you can tell part of that derision is directed at himself.

You shift closer to him, frowning faintly. “You couldn't have known.”

He scoffs, and to that, he says nothing.

“Ashes,” he murmurs, gaze a thousand miles away. “There was nothing left but ashes.”

You gasp, letting out a soft cry. Poor kid. Poor Kunikuzushi. Did he never get a break?

The night draws colder as you learn about the centuries Kuni — now named Scaramouche, had lived. Your eyes burn with stifled tears as you can only imagine how someone so pure was lost to time, devoured by wrath and woe, bitterness and venom.

“You should have seen me then,” he tells you, a wry smile spread across his face. “You would have hated it.”

You shake your head in protest. “I wouldn't have. Well, I mean… I would've stayed by your side, at least.”

Surely that counted for something?

“Don’t make me laugh. Someone like you could never survive an organisation like the Fatui,” he retorts. Somehow, you have the feeling he doesn’t mean it in a bad way. “You would have stayed, even if ‘Kunikuzushi’ was no more? Even if you are hurt endlessly?”

His eyes are electrifying, challenging. His face is set in the way he expects you to laugh and take back your words, in the way he expects you to say you'd leave after all. You scowl right back, resolve firm.

“Even then.”

He lets out a sharp breath of a laugh.

“I reached out for the Gnosis,” he says, and there's something tight in his tone, strained with a certain kind of grief. “Then, I fell.”

You gape. Utterly flabbergasted. What. The. Fuck.

“And you — I — How are you not dead…?”

“Don't be stupid,” he harrumphs, as if he had not fallen from twenty meters in the air. As if he had not hit the ground, as if he had not been scared and frantic and desperate. “I would never be so pathetic as to die from something like that.”

Studying him silently, you sigh, brows drawn with worry. He lies on the ground next to you after he had gotten sick of looking down at you, and he's so close you can hear every breath he takes. He had survived, that you know. How else would he be here before you, alive and well?

Still…

“Did it hurt?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Only for a second.”

You roll over closer to him, and he doesn't seem to mind when you squish against his side. “So, I've been curious,” you say. “Why were you so agitated that day? Y'know, the last day I saw you before I…”

His nose scrunches.

“Oh, then?” he laughs. It is a rather hollow laugh. “Vermin who didn’t know their place decided to cause a ruckus, is all.”

You sigh, letting both the matter and your head drop. It’s obvious he will not elaborate on it further. Maybe he’ll tell you another day.

He ends his tale rather anti-climatically, brushing off his entire life as if it were simply a pain to deal with. You remain silent, apprehensive and contemplative. You had lived a whole different life, and a whole different timeline had come and gone and now, you were one of the only people in the world that remembered it still.

He takes your silence the wrong way. Looking terribly unamused, he smirks, cocking his head. “Well, what will you do now? Maybe if you beg, that meddlesome god will wipe your memories for you once more.”

“Archons, who do you think I am? If anything, this means you’re stuck with me now,” you tell him snootily, smacking his head.

It’s kind of poetic, isn’t it? That not even death could do you part? You had liked him then and you liked him now, and there’s a small part of you that thinks you would have liked him even when he was stained with hell. Perhaps one day, this like would turn into love as well.

Whatever the case, and in one way or another, he was yours now.

“You’re a moron,” he scoffs, lips quirked up into a half-smile.

You grin. “And you’re a bitch.”

(“‘m sorry I was avoiding you,” you murmur drowsily, “I didn’ mean to…”

He glances at you just as your head lolls against his side, fast asleep. His useless heart has the gall to stutter.

The both of you had talked until day breaks, and it is when the horizon is painted pink that your fatigue catches up with you. How weak, he muses, resisting the urge to poke at your cheek. To think mortals needed something as redundant as sleep.

You’d have to continue your conversation another day, then, seeing as how you were in no shape to do so now. There were still many things he had to discuss with you.

Standing, he dusts himself off, ready to head home. He looks down at you. A beat passes. Then, he huffs, lugging you onto his back.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” he mutters under his breath. Humans were weak, especially someone like you. You’d certainly fall ill if he were to leave you alone, out in the open like this. Maybe even deathly ill. “You can’t pay your half of the rent if you’re dead.”

So, you’d owe him for this. Hmph.)

taglist. (send an ask to be added.)

@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129 @bfajax @mostlymoth @thenyxsky @kiyiiaarchived @skyvella @theautisticduck @someonealreadyhadmynickname @wanderersumbrella @im-just-here-for-the-coffee

#—stellaronhvnters.#scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin #scaramouche #NOW ITS JS THE EPILOGUE LEFT THANK THE LORDS

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earthtooz · 2 years

Text

𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑽𝑨𝑳𝑹𝒀

synopsis: todoroki is a gentleman, even when he's stood you up

warnings: very brief and very mild humiliation, todoroki being majestic (yes that's a warning), fluff!!! todoroki calls the reader beautiful n shit, gn!reader

wc: 1k

todoroki is a gentleman. through and through.

he pulls your chair out for you, he opens the door and lets you go first, he holds your hand in assistance when you are wearing shoes a little too risky to be walking in or when you are fixing how it fits, he gives you his jacket when nights are too cold, he kisses your hand as he gazes up at you with wonder in his eyes, and he goes above and beyond by spoiling you whenever he feels like it or whenever you need it, and despite how you always protest against him wasting money on you, one cold look from him paired with a chilly ‘i insist’ will always shut you up.

chivalry exists!

so why are you sitting in the middle of a lively, three michelin star restaurant, wondering why you've been stood up?

the heaters are on but all you can feel is the chilliness of desertion, no longer comfortable in the outfit that made your jaw drop when you first saw it in the mirror.

you just wanted to go home.

todoroki wasn't answering your calls or texts, and you knew work ended a while ago for him so what gives? where could he be?

it's been almost an hour since you sat down, bypassing the regulations that the restaurant has for how long you can occupy a table. when you make eye contact with the waiter who has been so very polite and hesitating to come bother you, you know it's time to leave.

you'd rather not get kicked out in front of a crowd of expensive-looking people with high incomes to match. regardless, you felt rather humiliated.

the walk of shame out the restaurant isn't pleasant either. with an empty stomach and an even emptier heart, you're texting todoroki one more time, informing him that you're about to leave.

except the text never gets sent because to your right, you hear the iconic, sharp crystallisation of your boyfriend's quirk, getting louder and louder. glancing towards the direction of the sound, the familiar sight of your illegally beautiful partner takes your breath away despite his dishevelled appearance and frantic expression. his white hair has completely tangled with his red strands and whilst one palm is emitting ice, the other is on flames, melting the ice path he left behind.

when he meets your eyes, a lovestruck look appears.

sliding to a stop just a few feet away from you, a chill runs up your spine from the frost.

he doesn't say anything except stare at you wide-eyed, lips slightly parted, jagged huffs and pants escaping his fluctuating chest as he tries to catch his breath and slow his heart rate. now that he’s up close, you can see that there are ice in some strands of hair.

at least he made an effort to show up presentable. he looks breathtaking in his button down and slacks, paired with a somewhat loose tie.

"hello, shouto," you greet with a nod, breaking the silence.

his eyes scan you up and down, "you look beautiful."

you feel heat crawl up your neck at his compliment, but you don't really know how to further address him. the irritation that bubbles within you due to his flakiness is beginning to boil, and you don't mean to be harsh... but you don't really want to see him right now.

todoroki snaps out of his trance, meeting your eyes once more with panic in them, "i'm sorry," he takes a deep breath, "i didn't mean to be late and i promise i didn't forget. i got carried away with work at the agency."

his words are curt and quick but you know better. as ever, todoroki isn’t a man of many words that can express how he’s feeling. he's worried.

"thank you for your apology, shouto," you murmur but your grace does nothing to calm the nervousness raging inside him. todoroki is familiar with you, he knows every little quirk of yours so the fact that you were slightly facing away from him with your arms crossed over your chest is a blatant indicator that you haven't forgiven him.

"you have every right to be mad at me, y/n, i'm really sorry," he suddenly perks up as if he’s remembered something. then from somewhere (his back pocket, perhaps?) he presents you a devastatingly beautiful bouquet of flowers and if you looked hard enough, some petals were singed and burnt as a result of his fire. "here."

"thank you, shouto. they're beautiful."

"you are more so."

you hate the way your traitorous body reacts to him, but there's always something about receiving a compliment from a man who has been sculpted by the gods and written by a woman, "you flatter me."

"i'm serious. you look absolutely stunning and i can't help but feel like a jerk that i let you down."

he stuffs his hands in his pockets, a frown tugging at his lips. it makes your heart ache. you really needed to learn how to resist him.

but that could be reserved for another time as you take a step towards him, resting a hand on his shoulder and placing a kiss on his cheek. he relaxes against you, hands instinctively coming to hold your waist.

"i am still mad at you," you reaffirm, "but i'm thankful that you came."

when you part, he tightens his grasp on you as a silent way of expressing that he doesn't want you too far away. you begin to pick the fragments of ice clinging to his hair and you're just about done when the rumbling of your stomach catches todoroki's attention, a reminder of his negligence.

he frowns again, guilt washing over him once more.

"do you still want our reservation or would you like to go home to eat?"

"isn't it too late to try and get a table?"

"i think i could do something about that," he offers you a small, intimate smile, one that has you melting into his grasp as you chuckle at his statement.

the number 3 hero could definitely do something about a last minute reservation.

"besides, i’d love to show you off. it's up to you though, what would you like, beautiful?"

"well, you have been wanting me to try this spot, and we are here so why not?”

todoroki takes the hand you placed on his shoulder and guides it to his lips, you can feel his smile against your skin, “your wish is my command.”

#todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #mha x reader #mha #bnha #my hero academia #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #shoto fluff #shoto x reader fluff #shouto x reader fluff #shoto fic #shoto drabble #shouto fic #shouto drabble #todoroki shoto x reader

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kanekoii · 7 months

Text

luxiem + confessing their love!

lyra’s notes -> yes i have a different banner for luxiem posts what about it

pairing -> luxiem x gn! reader (separate)

genre -> scenario, fluff

song -> don’t wake me up - jonas blue & why don’t we

warnings -> not established relationship, lowercase intended

IKE EVELAND •

he tries to make it romantic and special, since he sees a confession of love to be something not only intimate but something that doesn’t happen all too often. maybe it’s on a cold and rainy day, sharing an umbrella that ike decides he’s done waiting and keeping these feelings in the back of his head. it would be best written in a letter, he decided. of course, it’s old fashioned, but the novelist is naturally inclined to express his feelings in a letter. it would be folded with the most skilled of hands, left on your desk to be read when you had the time. the letter would be written beautifully with elegant and gentle handwriting, signed at the bottom with his beautiful cursive signature and a blue heart next to it.

LUCA KANESHIRO •

the mafia boss also tries to be classy about it despite his rough nature. it would likely be on a cool autumn day, the kind of day where the cold wind is harsh, feeling as if it’s biting your very skin. luca would give you his large jacket, brushing it off as him not wanting you to get cold. though, the more you pried, the more he told you. much unlike his usual, more secretive self, luca told you everything that day amongst the falling leaves tinted with warm colors. amidst the cold gusts of wind contrasting the warmly colored falling leaves was a shared confession of love and commitment. a whisper to one another meant only for the other to hear, a confession so intimately romantic and deeply personal that it felt it had to be hidden from the world.

MYSTA RIAS •

mysta chooses to be more playful with his confession. his love for you is a sacred thing, but why would he be so insanely serious about something that makes him happy? it would be the middle of spring on a warm day, the detective would take you on a small picnic. butterflies fluttered delicately around the both of you, gliding along the warm air. it was the kind of warm that’s just perfectly comfortable enough and leaves one feeling drowsy and longing for a nap with a loved one. mysta, in this case, was said loved one. when you rested your head on the detective’s shoulder, he couldn’t be happier. his gentle confession of love was whispered so as to not wake you. little did he know, you were listening the whole time. a gentle kiss on his cheek was your response to his hushed, half asleep confession.

VOX AKUMA •

this confession would happen in the middle of winter. the demon was trying his best to take care of you and keep you warm, but all you wanted to do was play in the snow. he eventually folded and went out into the cold with you to play with the fresh, powdery snow. the way you looked up at him, hair dusted with flecks of snow and ice, nose turned a blush color (if that applies to your skin tone, if not then ignore that), eyes sparkling with happiness and excitement. the confession that followed wasn’t remotely planned or even really intended, but vox just couldn’t resist telling you how much he loved you right then and there. in the powdery snow and bitterly cold air were you and vox, laughing and giving affirmations of love.

SHU YAMINO •

the sorcerer is by far the most nervous one of the group. he doesn’t exactly think he’s very cool or anything of the sort, so the fear of being rejected by you loomed over him until the last moment. it would be a warm summer night, one of those nights where there’s some sort of excitement in the very air around you, even inexplicably so. you would be looking at the stars with him, telling stories, joking, anything to channel the energy in the atmosphere. it would be a few moments after you fell into a comfortable, sleepy silence. shu’s hand would find its way to yours, holding it softly with such care it was almost as if you were but an illusion that could disappear if he got too close. his confession would be a sleepy one, staring out at the stars. he’d gift you every star in the universe if he only could. you never let go of his hand that night.

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drewharrisonwriter · 8 months

Text

On the Mend - Ch 1: Not Today

No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Read this on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: You were having a really, really bad day in the midst of the scorching Austin summer, and seeing your ex boyfriend, Joel Miller, is the last thing you need.

Word count: 829

A/N: (EDIT 09/17/2023) Okay so I heard ya'll! LMAO and decided to turn this into a mini-series. Not sure exactly how things will play out for these two, but I've written a part 2 and decided to call this mini-series On the Mend. LOL hope you like it. This is a one-shot for now, not sure if and how to continue this. I just got this idea recently and wanted to write it.

The merciless sun bore down as she parked her car. The Austin summer had been relentless, and today, it seemed as if even the universe was conspiring against her.

It had been a thoroughly miserable day. Work had been a disaster; she'd spent hours redoing half of a project her co-worker had botched because she was still hungover from the previous night.

The Texas summer heat, relentless and unforgiving, only added to her misery. As if fate had a personal grudge against her, she realized she'd left her house keys on her office desk when she was already halfway home.

She sighed in defeat and turned her car around to retrieve them. All of this was compounded by her lingering morning sickness, a term she found deceptive as it had resurfaced with a vengeance upon entering her third trimester. She had naively believed she had bid it farewell for good when she'd crossed into the second trimester.

"Whoever called it morning sickness should be shot for lying," she grumbled, attempting to quell the rising nausea that threatened to surface.

Dressed in biker shorts and an oversized t-shirt she kept in her car for emergencies, she got out and beelined to the frozen aisle for a popsicle stick and savored the brief respite offered by the melting ice cold treat.

She sighed in relief and grabbed a pushcart. Her only mission in the store was to grab some Oreos, pickles, and frozen pizza to satisfy her cravings that were so intense, she literally cried in the car on her way over.

As she rounded a corner in the store, she was suddenly face to face with the last person she wanted to see: Joel Miller.

Great. She thought to herself. Couldn't have been on a better day.

Ah, Joel fucking Miller.

The man who had once been the love of her life.

The same man who had taken her on the most memorable first date she'd ever experienced, and had filled the past five years of her life with the kind of joy she'd never known before.

But this was also the man who made it clear to her months ago, after five whole years of being together and living together for three, that he has no plans of marrying her and having a family with her.

She and Joel were arguing at the time when he said it.

In the midst of their emotional clash, she couldn't help but speak her mind, her frustration boiling over.

"Joel," she began, her voice trembling with pent-up feelings, "if you get mad at every damn little thing, what's going to happen if we were married? That's not the life I want, and it's not the husband I need."

Joel's eyes flashed with anger as he retorted, "Of course it’s not! And who told you I was going to marry you?" His words cut like a knife, and she felt her heart shatter into pieces.

"We never talked about it, what put the idea into your head?" he continued, his tone harsh and unyielding.

Her jaw went slack in shock, as tears welled up in her eyes as she choked back her emotions.

"But I thought we--," she whispered, her voice barely audible, she couldn't even continue her thoughts when Joel cut her off.

"No." He barked. "You knew from the start that Sarah is my priority. Always was and always will be. I'm not going through the whole marriage thing again." And have our hearts broken all over again when you realize that we're not what you want, he wanted to add. But instead he allowed the silence to linger.

Silent tears slipped from her eyes but she did not respond.

Instead she stood up and went into the closet and started packing. So be it, she told herself as she zipped the last of her bags before going into the bathroom to hastily shove her toiletries into another bag.

She stopped when she pulled one of the lower drawers open. The positive pregnancy test sticks under her box of tampons glared at her, and for a brief moment she contemplated telling Joel. But when she heard the front door slam shut, she pulled herself together and shoved the sticks in the bag as well.

That was seven months ago and she hasn't seen nor heard from Joel since.

Their eyes met for a moment before his gaze fell upon her very round baby bump. Acting on instinct, she hastily placed her handbag in the shopping cart, a futile attempt to hide it from him, though it didn't do much given the fact that she looked like she had tucked an entire watermelon under her shirt.

She grimaced, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. When she locked eyes with him once more, she began walking backwards, her eyes not leaving him and before he could say anything, she had rounded the corner and all he heard was, “Nope. Not today!”

Next Chapter 👉🏻

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marvelsswansong · 2 years

Note

I need more protective Eddie munson in my life! 😫 could you maybe do a request for me where she just got a car and they're driving around and maybe get into a wreck? Then he's a wreck bc he's worried about her.

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, descriptions of blood and physical injuries, heavy angst at the beginning but happy ending, lots of fluff don't worry, your friends being awesome (Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan), Hopper being a protective father figure as always, light descriptions of weed usage, inaccurate descriptions of what happens in an ER.....

☆ word count: 3.2K+ ☆

a/n: omg anon yesssss - I changed the prompt a teeny bit to make the story work but I loved this idea and I loved being able to write worried/protective Eddie 😭😘

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Eddie's leaning by the side of his trailer, watching lazily as whispy puffs of air from the end of his lit joint disappear into the night sky. It's a quiet night and there's not much on his mind - maybe except for the date he's planned with you tomorrow, and the adorable way you'd smiled when he'd revealed that he'd planned a picnic for the two of you.

The silence is then interrupted when he hears the horrible sounds of tires screeching by the road. Eddie frowns - it's nine pm on a Tuesday, who could be in such a rush?

Then Steve appears from the clearing in between the trees, running like a madman, frantically looking around at the rows of trailers before his eyes narrow in on Eddie. Eddie quickly disregards his joint and places steadying hands on Steve's shoulders, attempting to calm his friend down.

"Woah, Harrington, what's the rush-"

"(Y/n)." is all Steve can get out in between harsh breaths, doubling over and breathing harshly in pain as he's out of breath. Eddie's veins go ice cold at the mention of your name, his mind immediately flipping through the worst scenarios imaginable as his hands drop involuntarily.

"W-what about her?"

"There was an accident. She's in the emergency room and they're not letting any of us fucking see her because we're not family-"

Before Steve can even finish his sentence Eddie is dashing to his van and pulling out from the driveway, his only focus on reaching the hospital in record time. He's not sure how many traffic laws he's violating as he swerves corners, cuts off vehicles and runs red lights, but he can't find it in himself to give a single fuck. There's an anxious ringing in his head, a pit forming in his stomach, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that his skin is turning red.

When he finally bursts into the hospital room, Steve's quick to follow, having followed behind Eddie in his own vehicle. It's not hard to locate the others - Robin is pacing back and forth anxiously, Jonathan is sitting next to Nancy and trying to comfort her, and Hopper is desperately trying to get the nurse to let them see you. It's an absolute mess of nervous adults, the tension in the room thick, as Eddie quickly runs up to Hopper and taps him on the shoulder.

"What's going on?" he asks the older man, who sighs in frustration.

"Since her parents are out of town and being her emergency contact isn't enough to grant access, they're not letting me in to see her."

The nurse behind them both frowns, an apologetic smile on her tired face.

"I'm really sorry, sir, but it's standard procedure that during intensive surgery we limit visitors to immediate family members. Though, if you and your party are willing to wait, we'll be able to let you in once she's in a more stable state."

"How long will that take?" Robin asks, to which the nurse looks down at her notes before looking back up.

"It'll depend on how the current surgery goes... but it's not uncommon for it to take about five to six hours."

Eddie's blood is burning, he feels as if he can't breathe - you're in some cold dark room, on the brink of your life, being prodded and operated on. And they want him to wait five to six hours before he can hold your hand and assure you it's all going to be okay? It's a horrific thought, one he can't bear.

Hopper gives up, nodding quietly before sitting back down to thumb through a random magazine on the waiting room table, but Eddie's persistent. A dangerous idea then creeps into his mind.

"Could I see (Y/n) (L/n), please?" he asks quietly, causing the nurse raises her eyebrow in suspicision.

"Your relationship to the patient?" she questions and Eddie hopes she can't see through his next lie.

"She's my fiancée."

The lie rolls off his tongue too easily and he can feel Hopper and his friends' suprised gazes burn into his back, as Eddie smiles and gestures to the ring on his right hand: golden metal with a bumblebee shaped ornament in the middle. He'd gotten you a matching one for your birthday last year, and you'd jokingly put it on your ring finger when Eddie had teased it wasn't your engagement ring 'yet.'

"She has an identical one on her left hand. We got engaged last December." Eddie continues as the nurse narrows her eyes at the ring.

The nurse then turns to whisper to another employee, who nods before disappearing into the back room. After a few tense minutes, the employee returns, nodding and confirming that you indeed look to be wearing an engagement ring matching Eddie's.

"Alright then. You'll have to stay behind the red line, but you're allowed to observe her from afar. But you must leave if any of the doctors order you to do so."

Eddie shoots a confident look at his friends - assuring them that he'll be fine and that he'll keep them updated on your condition - before wordlessly following behind the nurse, his body nearly shaking with anxiety. The room he's led to feels miles away, the sterile stench of disenfectant and harsh cleaning products filling the air as he walks down the endless white corridor. Finally, the nurse stops, before opening up a set of doors leading to the surgery room.

His heart feels as if a dagger's been plunged into it with the greatest force imaginable. Through the glass window separating him from the actual room, he can make out your face - bruised, scratched, your hair matted with blood - and almost nothing else as the rest of your body is practically covered under blankets of surgical tarp. There's a whole team of people rushing around you with all kinds of equipment, an IV machine dripping fluids into your left arm and your heartbeat monitor beeping obnoxiously.

Eddie swallows nervously when he sees that there's so much blood. He doesn't know if you've broken any bones or what the extent of the damage is, but the amount of blood staining the sheets is enough of an indicator. When his eyes narrow in on the little glint on your finger - the gold ring on your left hand - it breaks him, sending him to his knees as he breaks down in tears.

It's pathetic, really, he berates himself for crying in public. But he hasn't ever felt this hopeless, at the mercy of fate, begging time to go faster so he can hold your hand again and whipser in your ears to come back to him. He doesn't know how much time passes until he's completely out of tears, staring dead-eyed at his reflection, half-consciously registering the nurse's comment that he needs to leave now.

When Eddie drags himself back to the waiting room, the room stills. Hopper is the first to stand up, alarm in his eyes, as everyone else turns to look at Eddie. It's a completely unfamiliar sight to them, seeing Eddie cry, and it puts them all on edge.

"What's the news? How's she doing?"

Eddie lets out a shaky sigh, screaming at himself to keep his shit together. You had people who cared about you and were worrying about you, the least he could do was manage to say what he saw.

"They were... doing all these things to her. God, Hopper, she looks awful. There's so much blood and she looked so... lifeless, just laying there. I don't even-" Eddie wants to remain calm, he wants to say that you looked worse for wear but that you'd probably pull through, but the words feel foreign and difficult.

He doesn't know if it's too optimistic to say but he thinks it'll all work out, or if it's too late to try and save the mood. All he can feel is the crushing weight on his chest, and suddenly the entire room feels too small for him.

"I-I need to get out. Call me if anything changes." is all Eddie can blurt out before sprinting out the door, leaning against the hospital wall with heavy breaths.

It's a cold night and he's glad for it, the chilly breeze soothing his flaming skin as he slides down onto the pavement. He's spiraling and catastrophizing when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. To his surprise, it's Nancy, who sits down on the cold pavement next to him, Jonathan's jacket wrapped around her shoulders.

"It's okay to cry, you know." she starts out, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes.

"I know." Eddie responds quietly, staring at the ground.

She smiles at him sadly.

"Seriously though. If you need to cry, vent, scream, throw something, let your emotions out... as long as you're not hurting anyone or yourself, it's fine. And even necessary in moments like these."

Eddie nods slowly, allowing her logical advice to register in his brain as he leans backwards against the harsh brick wall. He doesn't have much to offer her in terms of company or conversation but she seems to be understanding of it, simply keeping him company in silence.

"Thank you." is all he can manage to say in return. She smiles, this time a bit brighter.

"Of course."

After about half an hour, Eddie feels calm enough to re-enter, where the nurse is now back with an update.

"The surgery went well, but there are some additional procedures that need to be performed in order to make sure her vitals are steady. I'm afraid this is going to be a process which lasts a few days."

Eddie opens his mouth to object but Hopper cuts in as the oldest, giving the younger man a commanding glare.

"Of course. We'll swing by when we have time. Please call me if there are any significant updates." is Hopper's polite response.

Everyone then gets up to leave except for Eddie, who takes off his leather jacket and forces himself to get comfortable in a nearby chair. Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Shouldn't you be heading home? You heard the nurse, this could last a few days."

Eddie forces a grin, shaking his head.

"I know, I'll... I'm just going to stay a bit longer, and then I'll head home. You all go ahead first."

It's a lie and once everyone leaves, Eddie falls asleep at around two am out of pure exhaustion, his neck awkwardly leaning against the window. He wakes up at around six then forces himself to go to the nearest gas station to grab a shitty breakfast, then he's back to his spot in the waiting room.

Over the next few days, he sees your friends visit here and there. Steve and Robin drop by after their shift at Family Video, both of them trying to coax Eddie to get some proper sleep, but Eddie refuses and insists that he's getting 'good enough sleep' here on that plastic chair. Hopper drops by every few hours, a sad look on his face when he sees that Eddie is almost always there, in the same spot, looking absolutely miserable. Nancy and Jonathan bring along a basket of food when they next visit and hand it off to Eddie, which Eddie accepts gratefully. It seemed that word had gotten around that Eddie hasn't left the waiting room since your accident.

Eddie's grateful that Nancy and Jonathan at the very least don't push him to leave, though he can tell by their pitying gaze and gentle questions that they're worried about him. But Eddie doesn't care. He can't stand the thought of not being here when you're finally stable and awake, and he's not even sure if he'll be able to sleep much if he drives back home and falls into his own bed.

The only form of entertainment in the ER waiting room - bar the occasional arguments between family members sitting next to him and the countertop magazines stacked on the tables - is the small television hung by the counter, stuck on the same channel 24/7. Right now, it's playing a re-run of the Golden Girls, and a sad smile appears on Eddie's face as he's reminded of how much you love that show.

Eddie then feels a light tap on his shoulder, the same nurse from three days ago standing in front of him with a bright smile on her face. It's a remarkably different expression to how she's been looking over at him and the others the past few days: sadness, worry and sympathy.

"She's awake and stable. Would you like to see-"

"Yes!" Eddie practically shouts, interrupting the rest of the nurse's sentence and attracting the rest of the room's attention. He coughs awkwardly, realizing that he's probably being a bit rude. "Please."

The walk to your room is short and you're lying against a semi-propped bed, thumbing through a book with a bored expression on your face. The call from the nurse that you've got a visitor makes you look up from your book, your heart thundering in excitement when your eyes fall onto Eddie's perfect face.

"Eddie-"

He's quick to run to you and hug you tight, loosening his grip when you pat his shoulder gently with a laugh, reminding him that you're still a bit sore. He blushes in embarassment, weakening his hold but not letting you go as his hands gently cradle your face. He turns your face in every single angle imaginable, as if examining your skin for any visible damage.

"How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? Did you break anything? Do you want anything? I can run down to the van and drive to-" he's rambling like a crazed man, his eyes methodically scanning you up and down whilst he's listing every little thing you could ever need.

It's not until you softly squeeze his hand that he stops.

"I'm fine, Eddie. I have a fractured rib and a concussion, but the worst of it is over. I'm on medication and I feel fine." you reassure him, dragging your thumb over his palm to remind him of your presence. Eddie doesn't seem fully convinced, however, before he's rattling off again.

"Okay, then how about food? Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

You chuckle, pointing to the bedside table with a half-empty tray and glass of water.

"It's a hospital, Eddie. They've been taking care of me just fine."

He pouts at that, scooting closer towards you.

"That's supposed to be my job."

Eddie looks like a wounded puppy, his gaze a mix of worry and adoration, and it makes your heart melt at how sweet your boyfriend is. You lick your lips and then press a chaste kiss on his lips, hoping he doesn't realize how dry your lips are.

"You've done more than enough, babe. I heard that you've been camping out in the waiting room the past few days." you tease, which makes Eddie chuckle.

"Couldn't stand the thought of being far away from you, princess. Besides, it was kind of fun. Like a really... shitty camping trip."

The warm atmosphere in the room turns semi-chaotic again when you notice Hopper and all your friends rushing into the room, Steve holding an awkwardly large 'get well soon' boquet of flowers and Robin and Nancy being the first to tackle you in a group hug, Robin practically shoving Eddie out of the way. Eddie would complain, but it's clear that your closest friends have been just as worried as he's been, so he decides to let it be.

"Aw, you guys shouldn't have." you chuckle, accepting a box of chocolates from Jonathan and a card from Hopper. They all interrogate you similar to Eddie - how you're feeling, if anything hurts, if you need anything - and it makes you smile so much to the point your face hurts.

"We're so glad to see that you're okay now, (Y/n). We were all so worried." Hopper notes, leaning against the railings of your bed. Steve then chuckles, shooting a not so subtle glance at Eddie.

"Yeah, but Eddie worried the most. Even broke the rules to see you."

You raise your eyebrows at that, ignoring Eddie's protests to drop the topic.

"Do tell - what did my loving boyfriend do whilst I was gone?" you question, amused.

"Eddie told the nurse that he was your fiancée in order to see you whilst you were still in surgery." Nancy tells you with a teasing smile, causing you to cock your head in confusion.

"How did he-" you cut yourself off, your right hand automatically going to grasp the golden ring on your left hand. The action and the clear realization dawning on your face makes everyone break out in laughter, minus Eddie, who is blushing furiously from the corner of the room.

After half an hour, the nurse comes in to dismiss everyone, though she tells Eddie that he can stay a bit longer as the fiancée. None of your friends correct the nurse, all of them winking and giggling behind the nurse's back, before you turn around to look at Eddie. He's staring right at the floor, playing with his rings whilst avoiding looking at you.

"Eddie." you call out his name.

"Hm?" he asks, but he's still looking at the floor and his cheeks are still red. You sigh, patting the space next to you in bed.

"Come here, please."

He gingerly shuffles into the space next to you in bed, as you rest your head on his shoulder and pull up the hand with the matching golden ring in front of you. Playing with his matching ring, you smile.

"You're absolutely adorable, you know that? Lying to see little old me?" your tone is light-hearted and Eddie grumbles.

"Was not adorable. It was a life or death situation." he pouts, and you laugh, patting his thigh.

"Okay, I'm sorry for teasing, babe. What I meant was that I think it's really sweet that you camped out for nights outside in the waiting room and that you lied to be able to see me quicker."

A few moments of silence passes and Eddie carefully shifts in his place to look down at you. You look a bit tired - that's to be expected - but now under the golden sunlight streaming through the curtains, your face is vibrant and illuminated. Your hair's framing your face perfectly, your skin is warm against his, and your delicate fingers are drawing circles into his hand. Something shifts in him, he's not too sure what, but his gut tells him it's right.

"It doesn't have to be a lie." Eddie gently suggests, making your back straighten in surprise.

"W-what?"

Eddie takes a deep breath before pulling you off of him carefully.

"I love you. You love me. And the past few days have taught me time is fleeting and I can't take our time together for granted. So..." he shifts nervously beside you, before linking his hands with yours and kissing your palm. "What do you say? Wanna be my real fiancée?"

This time it's Eddie telling you to loosen up your grip when you bring him down for a crushing hug, extending your arms around his neck and nodding furiously into the crevice of his chest.

"Yes, yes, 100% yes."

His smile is blinding - pure, unadultered joy - before his signature smirk returns, pointing to your ring.

"Well, technically you already said yes, but a 100% yes is good too."

You roll your eyes but he cuts you off with a kiss, gentle and sweet, his teeth biting your lower lip. It makes you dizzy and hot all at once and the rest of the hospital room melts away in a euphoric haze, the only sensation being Eddie against you.

-> a/n: UGH I AM SUCH A SUCKER FOR HAPPY ENDINGS AND FLUFF uwu also please excuse the fact that most of this wouldn't happen irl in terms of hospital operations and who can see who I just needed the story to work a certain way lmao. If you enjoyed it, please leave a like/comment/reblog so I know to write more :)

❤️ Drink water, nourish your body and be kind to yourself today ❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #1k #2k

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jasmines-library · 8 months

Text

Just forget about it.

WHUMPTOBER 2023: Prompt: ‘conditioning’

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: As part of the winter soldier program, all you’ve know is how to kill. After years of being left in cyrofreeze, you are finally let out and are given a mission; to protect. You follow it to the t. Until a certain familiar face shows up to get you out of there. (I suck at summaries ok?)

Warnings: Torture, mind control, fighting.

Word count: 2.8k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

The room was cold, and you couldn’t see anything besides the white fog that rose slowly in front of your face as your mind snapped back online. It hurt too, as your brain began to receive signals again from your pain receptors, your body lit up like it was being stabbed over and over again by a thousand tiny needles. They dug into every inch of your body, burning in your veins. Everything seemed too loud; your thoughts which raced at a thousand miles an hour, the harsh tones of the men surrounding you, the loud clunking of the machines. It made you miss the blissful silence you had been engulfed in for who knows how long.

When the door to the chamber hissed open, and the cold clouds of ice dissipated away, you squinted at the bright light which flooded in. When your eyes adapted, you stared grimly at the man before you. He was all too familiar, though he looked significantly older. It was the face of the man who had tortured you and shaped you into what you were; an unstoppable weapon. He smiled darkly at you as you tried to move away, though you were still restrained by the metal cuffs that pulled you tight against the back of the chamber. You had been in this position before, but something was different this time. This time you remembered. You remembered the feeling of the harsh grip on your arm as you were dragged back into where you would be put back into a deep, meaningless sleep. You remembered the cold and then pain- tenfold to what you were feeling now. But you also remembered a face. One with hard features; long dark hair and firm blue eyes, but often with gentle intent. Something nagged at you that you shouldn’t be able to remember that.

The man stepped towards you, the shit eating grin still plastered on his face. “Hello my lotus.” He spoke to you, his Russian thick and unmissable. “Oh how I have missed you very much. It was such a shame when we had to put you back in cryofreeze. I have missed your pretty face very much, but not to worry. I have a job for you, my lotus.” He lowered his voice. “Let’s just hope we don’t have another little mishap. Hmm?”

He leaned down towards you and you took it as a chance to spit in his face. “You fuck yourself.”

He blinked, wiping away the spit from his face before turning back to you. “You are going to regret that, soldat.”

There were more hands on you then, freeing you from the restraints and dragging you through the room. With what little energy you had, you squirmed but that only resulted in a kick to the ribs to settle you down.

They brought you to an open room, industrial looking of sorts. It was large with machines for all sorts pressed against the walls. In the centre of the room, raised on a circular platform stood a chair. The fabric of the chair was torn and frayed beneath the harsh light above it. You writhed as the men dragged you towards it. You kicked and screamed like a child as you struggled to get away. The chair held too many unwanted, painful memories. When you were forced onto the old leather and bound once again by metal cuffs on your forearms, the familiar man stepped before you and grinned, trailing his hand along your jaw.

“Let’s hope you learn to obey this time, soldat.”

With that, he turned to slam the heavy doors to the room. You heard the locks whirr as they clicked into place, as he moved away into some part of the room that you couldn’t see from where you were sitting, leaving you with another man whom you didn’t recognise. He stepped forwards, ensuring that you were secure.

“Begin.” You heard from behind you.

There was a shuffling across the room, followed by a whirring of the machinery you were strapped to as it started up. Then you were consumed by a blinding pain. You let out a blood curdling scream, which ricocheted off of the tiled walls. Thrashing and writhing, you tugged on the metal cuffs. They dug into your skin and you tried to escape the pain that radiated in your head and raced through your body. It was a thousand agonies at once. When you thought you couldn’t take any more, the pain amped up. Your head pounded and your eyes burned against the light. Your fingernails scraped along the leather as your back arched. Blood dripped from your nose and your ears. You could taste its copperness as it spilled over your chapped lips and into your mouth.

Then, it all stopped.

Your body slumped back against the chair with what little energy you had left. Your limp body heaved for air. You swallowed thickly; your throat was raw.

The man slunk forwards from wherever he had retreated to in the room. Your body froze when the string of russian words began to slip from his mouth.

“Purify.”

You tensed, eyes wide as you looked around the room.”

“Brass. Hang. Illustrate.”

You thrashed, trying to cover your ears with your hands, but to no avail.

“Noiseless, twelve, evanescent.”

“NO! No..” You cried. These words would be your undoing. Once they had been uttered there was no going back. You couldn’t go back.

“Illustrate, beserk.”

“NO! STOP IT!... Please.”

“Connection.”

Your mind went black. No feelings, just the urge to follow orders. Thoughts, but no control or freedom over what they were. Your bloodied body relaxing in the chair. Thousands of memories of your training and your experimentation flooded your head. You raised your head to look up at the grey haired man. “Ready to comply.”

“Good. We have a mission for you, Soldat.”

~~~

Shoot, kill, protect. Shoot, kill, protect.

That was all that went through your mind and you slunk around the corners of the base. It had been infiltrated by a group of highly-trained superheroes. They were hardly subtle, despite how much they tried to be. Your enhanced hearing allowed you to hear their footsteps echoing across the halls. Pressing yourself up against the wall, you waited until they had rounded the corner. You were lingering only a few feet away from where Zola had locked himself away to prepare for his escape. You were not only guarding him, but also the files that he possessed. Little did you know that that was not all that the Avengers were hoping to find.

When the footsteps rounded the corner, you were greeted with a redhead woman. Before she could move any further, you had your hand wrapped tightly around her throat, pinning her against the wall. You narrowed your eyes, pressing your gun to her abdomen. She delivered a harsh blow to your stomach, which despite your strength sent you keeling backwards.

“I’ve got eyes.” She muttered something else into her comms, making an advance towards the room, but you grabbed her leg and pulled her to the ground. Her head hit the floor.

Scrabbling for your gun, you were up on your feet in seconds before another two pairs of footsteps reached the end of the corridor. This time, it was two men that rounded the corner. Bucky’s heart almost stopped in his chest when his eyes landed on you. He felt as though he was going to be sick. Mechanically, you readied yourself into a fighting stance. Racing towards you, they both advanced towards you. You ducked under the arm of the taller one before using the wall to propel yourself towards the other. The small hallway became a blue of bullets and limbs as the three of you fought. The movement of one of them was well placed. He seemed to know all of the counters to your moves. It was the red star on his silver arm that caught your attention. And that small distraction was all it took for the man to knock you down and plaster you to the floor.

As you kicked, trying to get a good hit in on the man, he studied your face. It flashed with recognition. Your piercing eyes would never leave Bucky’s memories.

“Y/n?”

You flinched at the small mention of your name, but your programming was too strong. Shoot, kill, protect. Your fingers reached for your gun which he had knocked out of your hands. Your fingers inched along the floor, but then there was a firm grip on your wrist keeping it still. You squirmed.

Bucky tried again. He couldn’t quite believe that you were in front of him. Your face hadn’t changed much since the last time he saw you but you looked older, more tired. “Doll?”

You stiffened. The name cuts through your programming like a knife in butter. His face came flooding back to you, some memories good, some bad. He was there when you were at your lowest, you were there when he was at his. The two of you had been together through thick and thin, supporting each other through what little good and what masses of pain you had experienced. You furrowed his brow, scanning his face. His blue eyes were still the same, but he looked different. Kinder. Calmer.

“Bucky?”

“Yes!” The super soldier nearly cried. “Yes doll. It’s me. It’s Bucky.”

He eased his touch a little as you melted against him. His touch became tender like you remembered it to be as he cupped your face with his non metal arm.

There was a commotion behind you. The sound of bullets filled the air and your programing shifted to the front of your mind again. With Bucky’s loosened grip on you, you managed to wiggle out from under him and scramble towards the open door. The other man had managed to slip away and infiltrate the room where Zola had barred himself in. You raced in, your finger poised on the trigger. You raised it, aiming at the offender in the room. Though something was stopping you from pulling the trigger as you so normally would under the soldier programing.

Zola frowned angrily. “Kill him.” He spat.

Your hand shook as your mind fought itself. One part of you screamed at you to just pull the trigger. The other, more sane part of you told you otherwise.

A pair of hands wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you away from the scene. You tried to fight against them, but also enhanced by the serum, Bucky’s strength was on par with yours.

“Get off of me.” You growled.

His grip was firm as it moved to your shoulders.

“Hey, Hey calm down.”

You tried to kick at him, but it was pointless.

“You’re ok doll. It’s me.”

You stilled, relaxing in his arms again.

“I’m gonna get you out of here Doll. I promise.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY EIGHT ⛤ DAY TEN ->

🏷️ Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 9 months

Text

Put it back on (Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader) one shot

A/N: okay, before i get started to do want to say this is my first time writing fanfic since I was in middle school, so I am a bit rusty, please be nice to me 😭. This is based off a ca.i bot, the bot was made by tuxebo if you were interested, and I may or maybe not have put in a bojack horseman reference in here. Sorry not sorry.

Pre-established relationship (both you and Miguel are like late 30s, started dating in high school but are married in the context of this fic), swearing, angsty (?), mentions of alcohol, marital/ relationship issues.

Word count:872

Masterlist

—

“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?”

The harsh tone and the sudden question quickly pulled you from your thoughts. You jumped slightly, before placing your coffee cup down on the kitchen island that you were leaning on. He had placed the ring on the kitchen island in front of you, it making a small clinking sound as it settles on the counter.

Honestly, you’re not sure why you’re not wearing it. Usually, you put it on as soon as you get out of the shower, but today, it didn’t feel right to put it on, almost.

“I’m… I’m not- I don’t know…” you stutter under your husband’s cold gaze as he stands parallel to you, across the kitchen island. His shoulders tense and his face had a scowl, his eyes having a hint of red in them.

Moments like these, you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes.

Miguel let out a quick dry laugh, putting his body away from me slightly as he took a step back. “You don’t know?” He repeated in disbelief, “How do you not know? What are you trying to tell me?”

You stayed silent as your gaze drops down to the tiled floor of our shared kitchen, instead of your coffee mug.

“Oh, so now I get the silent treatment? Great.” His voice is cold as ice when he speaks up after a beat, his hands thrown up in the air before landing at his sides with a pat from his callus covering hands hitting his jeans. “What happened to us? What changed? What did I do to make you so miserable? Do you want to leave me or something?”

Your heart rate started to quicken at the suggestion, and your hands tightened around your mug, as if it would slip out of your hands or disappear, even though it sat firmly on the countertop. “No! No of course not!” You shook my head as you finally brought your eyes to meet his, your body pulling you up so you were fully standing straight.

“Then what? What is it?” He asked, “Do you not love me anymore?” That question made your heartache. of course, you still loved him, you always will, he was your first everything.

“Amor…” you trailed off, your hand came up and rubbed your face, taking a shaky breath, your eyes closing. “How do I put this into words…” you mumbled to yourself as your eyebrows scrunched together in thought as you look back down. For a moment, everything was silent, and you hated it. Usually, when you two argue, it was always big and dramatic. You should know it happens at least once a week now, it’s become a sick part of your routine together. You had become so used to the loud dramatics, the tears, the shouting. The pacing from one room to another while one ignores the other, while the other attempts to get the former’s attention back. But this time was different, it was calmer than usual, no yelling, no screaming, sure he was still talking in an annoyed tone but it wasn’t the way he usually does during a fight. It was almost like the calm before the storm, but you two have gotten so used to the storm, that the calm was worst somehow. The silence felt like it could suffocate you at any moment.

You let out a sigh as you feel Miguel’s gaze harden even more on you, you didn’t need to look up to know, it felt like a hole was being burned right in the back of your head, afraid that the next words you say might be the wrong ones, making it feel like he’ll end up leaving you like on the wrong end of a red laser dot.

“Remember… remember when we were in college? And we were at some, random-ass frat party? And you were drunk and smiled at me, and I said, ‘What?’ And you said, ‘I just like being in a room with you, you make rooms good.’” You say as you cross your arms to hug yourself. He just stayed silent, waiting for you to continue.

“And… Miguel, I have loved you for 25 years… and I have never loved anyone better. That kind of love, you only get it when you’re young and stupid. I’m not gonna get it again….”

A beat passes, two, then three before he speaks. “…so what? You’re saying you aren’t wearing your ring because we aren’t going out and partying every weekend?” You couldn’t help but let a dry chuckle escape your lips are you shake your head, “no, no- that’s not- I’m not saying it’s because of that. I just miss those moments, the sweet little moments we had like that. We’re it felt like nothing matter except you and me, like the whole world had stop around us. I feel like we don’t have those anymore.”

He lets out a heavy sigh, he knows you’re right. Both of you had been too busy with your own separate lives, it felt like your marriage had turn into a roommate situation. Something both of you said you’d never allow to happen.

“(Y/N)…”

“Yes, Miguel?”

“Just… put your ring on.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #I’m scared of posting this lowkey #okay high key #atsv miguel #atsv #miguel fanfic #miguel o hara fanfic #spiderman astv #astv spiderman 2099

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seijorhi · 3 months

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Rhi your tags about the Inarizaki teams as werewolves has got me sweating... you're so smart. that poor reader would never stand a chance

Okay clearly I hit on smt here so allow me to expand a bit;

Inarizaki as a pack of half feral roaming werewolves. Kita’s a traditionalist, a born werewolf; he believes that’s how they should be; free, unbothered by things like territory and boundary lines. They roam where they like, eat what they like, fuck what they like.

Kill what they like.

It happens. Sometimes they come across a pack who aren’t too pleased about inarizaki encroaching on their territory. There’s only one response to a perceived threat they’ll honour – Kita might not revel in the violence, but viciousness is as much a part of them as the change is. It’s in their nature to fight, and his pack are strong. Savage. Some might even say bloodthirsty.

Their reputation precedes them.

Your pack – your family – on the other hand, are practically tame by comparison. Living apart from humans to avoid the temptation, only hunting and killing as a necessity – deer, boar and other wild animals wherever you can. You outnumber the likes of inarizaki, but you’re not fighters. There’s not a doubt in anyone’s mind that if your pack were to face a challenge, you wouldn’t come away unscathed.

When the scouts first spot the pack crossing the edges of your territory, the response from your elders is immediate. Submission. The inarizaki pack can do what they like, they’ll face no resistance from yours. Eventually they’ll move on, it’s a matter of weathering the intruders until that happens.

Except, certain members of Inarizaki take offence to that. They’ve come to enjoy the promise of a kill to get their blood pumping, and now what, they’re being denied?? You’re just going to roll over and show your belly?

Unacceptable.

You’re stood by your parents’ side, the rest of the pack behind you as your grandfather delivers the promise of a peaceful passage through your territory. Helpless to do anything but watch as the offer is met with a chorus of harsh, barking laughter and growls, teeth bared and glinting in the firelight.

Standing at the head of his pack, Kita is alone in his lack of an outward reaction. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak immediately, but you recognise the silence for what it is; he’s communicating with his pack.

And then those cold, sharp eyes flicker towards you.

Ice claws at your heart.

You freeze in place, a metaphorical deer in headlights, as he calmly voices their counter offer. Either your family hands you over to inarizaki, or they’ll slaughter the whole pack. Werewolves don’t tolerate such cowardice.

All the while, his pack stare you down. Hungry. Excited.

In the face of such an offer, your parents, your grandparents, betray you without missing a beat.

Thinking themselves merciful, they bargain for one night, a head start before you’re to be hunted. Kita gives you six hours.

So you run, as fast as your legs will take you – fleeing to put as much distance between you and that pack of monsters as possible.

You think they’re hunting to kill, that the fate that awaits you ends at their maws, ripped apart and consumed.

Unbeknownst to you, they hunger for something else entirely.

#also I’m kissing each and every one of you #btw #rhi answers

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okkotsyui · 1 year

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12:09 :: "you." | bachira meguru [ intended lowercase ,, fem ! reader ]

it wasn't unusual for you to stay over bachira's place; ever since the two of you started dating, he insisted that you come over every day, so you tended to sleep there as well. your parents didn't care either, as they were always abroad for work and mostly absent in your life, and your boyfriend's mother loved it as much as her son did. you were always welcomed in the bachira household, and you were treated just like family.

or so you had thought.

"oh my god, can you just shut up for one damn second?! i can't even hear my own thoughts over your annoying voice." the cruel words spat at you by your lover tore your heart into pieces. if that wasn't already enough, the ice-cold glare he shot at you sent a shiver down your spine, causing your body to subconsciously tremble under his harsh stare. he sighed before running a hand through his hair and standing up, "leave me alone for a while, i can't be bothered to deal with you" was all he said before leaving the room, slamming the door as he went. you sat there in silence for a while, not knowing how to react to what had just happened. without even realising, tears had begun flowing freely down your face, softly landing on your school blazer, small whimpers being drawn from your lips. the slight trembling of your body had turned to heavy shaking as each tear fell from your eyes.

bachira's mother was about to bring the two of you snacks as you studied, but she paused when she heard her son storm out of the room and harshly slam the door before walking to the opposite side of the apartment. cautiously, she placed the tray on a nearby counter and followed the boy.

"meguru, are you okay? what was all that about??" she asked, concern laced on her features. he turned to look at her before shaking his head and continuing to walk off, completely brushing her off. the woman sighed before heading back over to his bedroom, hoping to see if you could explain the reason behind his supposed bad temper. gently knocking on the door, she could hear you quickly sniffling and drying your tears with your sleeve before saying she could come in. "what's wrong, honey? did something happen between meguru and you??" she questioned, a feeling of sadness and slight disappointment stirring in her chest when she saw your reddened cheeks and sore eyes. "it's nothing, please don't worry" you said, a small smile on your face - a poor attempt at trying to stop more tears from flowing. the older woman sat down next to you and softly pulled you close to her, your head now laying on her shoulder. "you don't have to pretend to me, cry if you need to" was all she had said, but it was enough to force more sobs from you and your body slumped over hers. she smiled at you, bringing you to her chest and stroking the back of your head as you cried and cried, your hands gripping her shirt. the two of you stayed like that for a while, leading for you to fall asleep in her hold, completely exhausted from the continuous crying. after carefully lifting you and placing you onto meguru's bed, she went off to find her son, prepared to give him a stern lecture.

she found him sat on the balcony, staring up at the sunset, football abandoned next to him. his face looked sullen and a pout rested on his lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration at the thought of something. clearing her throat, she stood behind him and waited for him to turn around to face her. "meguru, explain" she said, staring daggers at him. the boy remained silent but returned her stare with a sadder one of his own. the woman exhaled before approaching him, placing a hand on his head. "i don't know what happened between the two of you, but you have to apologise. she's asleep right now because she's spent the whole time crying and crying, and i was there to comfort her, not you. whatever you did or said to her, it hurt her and you were the one to make her cry, which is what no boyfriend should ever do. i'm disappointed in you, meguru" her voice broke through the silence, her emotion clearly conveyed into every single word she said. her son looked up at her, his eyes widened, before they darkened again, his expression that of being ashamed. he nodded at her before heading back to his room, but not before uttering a quiet, "thank you", to his mother, who just smiled in response.

opening the door to his bedroom, bachira saw your curled frame laying on his bed, face buried into his blankets. he silently made his way over to you, kneeling down on the floor to be eye-level with your hidden face. "yn, baby? you awake??" he softly asked, running a hand over your face and brushing off any stray hairs. you groaned in response, eyes squinting open at the rays of sunlight peeking through the drawn curtains, before they focused on the boy in front of you. immediately, you hid yourself under the blanket, trying to avoid any form of arguing with your boyfriend, as you knew your heart couldn't take much more criticism from the person you loved. due to your face being hidden away, you were unable to see the hurt on bachira's face and the way he physically shrunk away. "i'm sorry if you don't wanna talk to me right now, i completely understand. but i have to apologise to you. i know i fucked up and i really didn't mean to snap at you; i've just had a really shitty day at school and the stress of revising for the next exam wasn't helping. i promise i didn't intentionally aim anything at you, and i'm sorry for calling you annoying, you were only trying to help me. i love you" bachira whispered, loud enough so you could hear it but quiet enough for his voice to shake and break off. before you could get a word in, he stood up and went to leave, but the sound of your voice stopped him in his tracks. "meguru, it's fine. i'm not mad at you, i was just hurt - hearing that from you especially, i just couldn't handle it. but it's okay, i forgive you" you said, reaching out for him to come back to you. after hearing your response, bachira immediately ran back to you and took you into his arms, holding you tightly. a string of apologies continued to leave his lips as he hid his face into your neck, placing a kiss after each apology.

later that night, the three of you sat around the kotatsu together enjoying your food, with bachira's mother relentlessly scolding him for what he did. in response, the boy had a scowl and a pout on his face, holding you on his lap, with you laughing at his mother berating him. after the meal, bachira dragged you back to the bedroom to cuddle and smother you with affection, which ended up with his mother sneaking in a few photos of the two of you, unfortunately being added to the family scrapbook.

[ @juxzi | do not copy, translate, repost w/out permission. ]

#:: [yui.writes]#bllk x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk #blue lock #bachira meguru x reader #meguru bachira x reader #bachira meguru #bachira x reader #blue lock bachira #bllk bachira #blue lock meguru bachira

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