#put a little too much of myself in this one
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Best friends older brother! Anakin x reader Drabble
fluff with some kissing, touching and stuff like that😇
( i have no idea who came up with the bsf anakin idea i read it somewhere , so plspls let me know and ill give credit !!)
also GB/N stands for girl bsf name.
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Friday August 15th
approx 9:25pm
“Ani if you dont place them right , it’ll ruin the cookies” you whine as your (secret) boyfriend wasn’t putting his back into making the dessert you two planned for the movie night as much as you were.
Anakin places cookie blobs on the tray and you shape them to look like actual cookies
“How the fuck do you place it wrong, its just putting them on the tray ” he replies countering your complaint about his skills at baking.
“ugh you don- back up back up, i’ll do it myself. You just sit there and look pretty” you huff and push him to sit on the stool that overlooks the kitchen table.
“see now THAT i can do just perfectly” Anakin winks and lets out a chuckle at his own comment as he sits down on the stool.
as the two of you stay in the kitchen , placing the tray of cookies into the oven , a call comes from your home phone.
You pick up the phone but dont answer , looking at the name you hesitate to answer. The ringing echos for a few minutes, “whats wrong? who is it?” Anakin asks curiously.
“its uh- its GB/N” , He stares at you softly understanding your hesitation. “what do i tell her if she asks where i am?”
he comes up with the excuse of “just say your busy thats all” , nodding at his idea you answer the phone.
“Hey whats up?” , “ah nothing much , just wanted to see if your free. are you?”. “not tonight sorry GB/N, got tons of homework.”
Anakin smirks at your excuse of doing “so much homework”. Suddenly an idea springs into his head, he makes his way behind you and starts cleaning up the baking supplies, waiting for the right moment to pounce.
“ah its alright , we’ll go out another night. Man how is everyone busy but me!? even Anakin went out at 5 and still isn’t back!”
“Anakin still isn’t back and he left at 5? i wonder where he could be” you say trying to make it sound like you dont have a clue where he could be.
This was his moment.
Anakins arm snakes around your waist and travels your whole body , the sudden touch makes you gasp but right away you shut up to avoid suspicions.
“what happened?? why’d you gasp?” she asks on the other side of the phone. You clear your throat and let him continue with his little ruse.
“uh- umm nothing , sorry thought i saw a spider. it was just a piece of lint” you say sounding unsure but you could care less anyways. Anakin was distracting you too much.
His deep chuckle is heard prominently from your other ear as he rests his head on that shoulder.
“ew , but yeah Anakin’s still not back! he said he had some important business to attend to but that just makes him sound like a serial killer” she replies.
Absolutely none of her words registered properly into your head because Anakin kept going on with his little game. His giant arms travelled down to your thighs and just teasing your inner thighs as he takes his thumbs and gently grazes it back and forth.
His lips kiss your neck from behind , slow and one kiss at a time, making you yearn for more on the inside.
“i- i uh wouldn- wouldnt worry much abo- about him. He’s a ye-year old-older thannn uss so he-hes doing teenage boy th-things” you stumble on your words barley able to form a proper sentence. How could you? you were so drunk on Anakin. You needed him more than anything but you couldn’t blow your cover, not this early to your GB/N.
“are you sure your okay?” you sound really out of it” she questions your odd behaviour, concerned about what’s possibly going on , on the other side of the phone.
Anakin takes his sisters suspicions as a loud ringing bell that tells him to continue. His arms move from your upper thighs to inside your shirt. His hands move to your bra and fiddle with the outline of it
“ye-yeah , im uh perfect-ly fine” You gulp half way through what you could finish of that sentence.
“are you absolutely sure cau- i think im not feeling well. ill talk to you tomorrow after i get some sleep?”
You cut her off because you genuinely cant deal with the embarrassment of trying not to make it sound like your enjoying your boyfriend who happens to be her older brother straight up groping you right now
“yeah yeah sounds good , get some rest N/N. love you” , “yeah goodnight , Love you too”.
The call ends and you immediately (attempt to) smack Anakin on the head
“Ani! what the hell was that for. were you trying to get us in trouble ??” you scold the brown haired male for his antics. “At this point i dont care if the world knew we’re together, God i cant stop myself from being near you N/N”
“you dont mean that Anakin” you weakly say as you turn around and look down from his gaze.
Even though you two always liked it each other secretly and then finally fessed up not that long ago. You still had doubts about your relationship and Anakin has tried everything he could to prove himself. Its not that you dont trust him, its that you feel unsure about the whole sneaking around thing.
He pushes your chin up with two fingers “of course i do. i always have meant it” he sternly claims as he presses his forehead against yours.
the two of you stay quiet for a moment.
“Maybe soon okay? i just need to figure out how to tell her” you propose meekly to Anakin hoping he’ll be okay with it, “whenever your ready baby.” he replies with ease.
You couldn’t believe your dating the most perfect man of all time. The man only poets write about , the man women fawn over and men get intimidated of. The man of your dreams is holding you in his arms reassuring you of anything you want.
its a dream come true.
You pull back from the forehead touching and lean in for a deep kiss with him. Nothing could pull you two apart, not now and not ever.
Ding!
well except for the oven and the cookies you two made.
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why was this acc so long omg.
i hope u liked ittt my babes💕
PLEADE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD LEAVE THINGS JN MY LITTLE QUESTION BOX ANYTHING I NEED SOME SORT OF NOTICE THAT YOUR THERE.
also follow meee , i followw backk🥲
#anime#girlblogging#it girl#just girly things#fanfic#aot#hayden christensen#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x reader#anakin smut#star wars anakin#anakin x you#anakin skywalker#star wars#sam monroe#sam monroe x reader#sam monroe x y/n#fypシ゚viral#fypシ#tumblr fyp#fyp#mutuals#for you
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@jegulus-microfic | april 30, prompt: sky | word count: 1.927 featuring older ceo regulus black and younger secretary james potter part 2 | part 1 AKA word on the street is i Excel in the sheets
“Erh…” he tries after a stretch of silence. “So, how was your day?”
Regulus pins him frozen to place with a look, a sign spelling ‘stupid’ nailed right into his forehead. “You know how my day was. You manage my schedule.”
Damn, tough crowd. “Okay,” James drawls, a little unsure. “But, like, how did it go?”
The place functions as any other hole-in-the-wall restaurant that serves just a handful of people throughout the day, most of whom are loyal customers returning every so often for a comfort meal when homesickness becomes a little too much to bear. Even now, there are only a couple of people scattered about, none of which pay any mind to either Regulus or James.
“So, first impressions?” James asks when he takes a seat across from him.
“It’s satisfactory.”
“Satisfactory.” James blinks.
Regulus is quiet. He looks terribly out of place wearing a luxury suit exported from one of the globe’s corners and James can’t help but feel a little guilty. He’s seen Regulus carve into lobster with only a fork and knife but still can’t help but worry about future dry cleaning prices for which he may or may not be responsible.
“Erh…” he tries after a stretch of silence. “So, how was your day?”
Regulus pins him frozen to place with a look, a sign spelling ‘stupid’ nailed right into his forehead. “You know how my day was. You manage my schedule.”
Damn, tough crowd. “Okay,” James drawls, a little unsure. “But, like, how did it go?”
Regulus, perhaps finally acknowledging his poor attempts at small talk to ease the awkwardness, studies him intently for a long, close moment before acquiescing. “Enervating.” Right, because Regulus is the type to unironically use words like enervating.
“The business deal?” James asks and Regulus nods. “Dude from Jakarta, right?”
“The CEO from the biggest real estate company in Jakarta,” Regulus corrects him.
Tomato, tomato. “Does this mean you get to leave work at a reasonable hour starting tomorrow?”
“I’ve never had reasonable working hours.”
“Of course, I forgot the very important detail you’re a raging workaholic.”
Regulus’ mouth sets into a firm line as his brows knit together into a censorious frown—his entire face contorting into something that’s one odd remark away from turning downright petulant. “I am not—” He stops. Breathes in. Probably recognizes James is very carefully pulling his tail and for some reason becomes decidedly collegial. “Allow me to rephrase myself. I am meticulous. I prefer finishing tasks before going home and don’t mind when it results in me staying at work a little longer. It’s inevitable as a CEO when timezones don’t work in my favor.”
Absolute bullshit. “Just last week you kept leaving the office after the cleaning shift already came by to sweep the place clean. I know because they told me.”
“I can’t see how any of this poses as a bother to you.” And there it is, the good ole Regulus Black-esque deflection.
“I’m just worried. That is all.”
Regulus’ nose twitches and he looks away, a clear indication that he no longer wants to be a willing participant in the conversation. When Regulus becomes like this, James has learned to leave it be.
Luckily, it doesn’t take long for the food to arrive. James can stop pretending to take in the beautiful sight of the night sky, cracked asphalt, and the flickering colors of traffic signs when the plate is placed on the center of the table, carrying an assortment of different meat cuts and a modest side salad that will probably be Regulus’ for the taking.
Using the table etiquette of a properly groomed aristocrat, Regulus carefully selects some vegetables to put on his plate and a modest serving of rice. He skillfully carves out some pieces around the skewer.
“Seriously,” James deadpans. “Go on, Your Royal Highness, you can use your hands for this.”
Regulus almost bridles at the mere suggestion.
“Seriously, there’s no shame in it. Here, let me do it for you”
Regulus watches as James grabs one of the skewers and uses his fork to tear chunks off, dropping a generous portion of roasted vegetables and meat on Regulus’ plate. “You want some of this flatbread?”
Regulus shakes his head and James shrugs. He swiftly mouths off a dollop of sauce on his thumb, which earns him one of Regulus’ notorious James-exclusive grimaces.
Right, table manners.
They get to eating and James is once again reminded of how much of a slow eater Regulus is. It’s like he counts his chews, jaw working diligently with the faint scrapes of his cutlery against the plate. That and he works even as he eats, almost on auto-pilot with how he takes out his phone to open Outlook.
“Using your phone at the table is rude manners,” James teases.
“I got an e-mail.”
“Of course.” He nods. “Nothing workaholic about that, no.”
“It’s an important e-mail.”
“You know I read something about how it’s also important to spend time with your employees.” He waves around a piece of the flatbread as if to emphasize the point. “Get to know them better and all.”
“I know plenty about you,” Regulus answers as he types away.
“That so?”
Regulus looks at him, entirely indifferent as the phone is placed face-down on the table. “James Potter. Twenty-three years old. Finished your master’s degree at Oxford, with flying colors might I add. You took a gap year to travel, working all sorts of jobs to pay for your accommodation. Currently, you live near Camden and spend most of your spare time enjoying hobbies or going to the pub with your friends. You have a Joe and the Juice stamp card.”
James tries not to physically reel back. “That…” He starts, absolutely nonplussed. Someone come pick his fucking jaw off the table, it’s dropped off its hinges. “You know what Joe and the Juice is?” Impossible, all things considered. Regulus is in a tax bracket where chain restaurants might seem like fanciful inventions, the kind of places mentioned only in tales where fine dining is unheard of. There's a brief curiosity about whether this is the equivalent of discovering that Toy Story's Pizza Planet is a real place that actually serves food.
“I've come to understand that it's a venue offering juice among a broad array of meals and beverages, yes.”
Still, that’s doesn’t explain… “How do you even know all of that? I hardly even know anything about you other than that you recently turned thirty and were homeschooled for this position.” And that he’s quite fond of the occasional handful of candied macadamias when feeling particularly indulgent. James keeps a packet of it in his bag.
Regulus’ throat bobs. “I do thorough research on the people I employ”
That’s not more than thorough research at this point, far beyond the usual background checks done on new personnel. “Uh-uh. Or you stalk my Instagram during your free time.”
Regulus promptly chokes on his food. His fork falls onto the plate with a loud clatter. James nearly knocks his knee against the table as he too scrambles for the pitcher to pour him water, almost knocking over his can of Sprite in the process.
“Easy, I was just kidding.” He has half the mind to stand up and start patting him on his back to dislodge whatever molecular-sized cucumber wedged itself in his airpipe. “I doubt Mr. Black Enterprises even uses Instagram.”
Regulus looks up startled. Definitely not from the lack of air.
Oh.
Ohohohoh.
“Oh my god.” James’ face splits into a distinguished, shit-eating grin. “You do.”
“What?” It’s barely a wheeze with the way Regulus has been caught. His grip is deadly around the fork, something that should warn James to be wary.
“Instagram,” James repeats, trying his hardest not to gloat when Regulus shivers. “You use it? The Regulus Black uses Instagram? I thought you would be a member of some upper-echelon-exclusive platform instead of mingling with us.”
The worry swiftly dissipates, giving way to confusion, and then settles into something far more at ease. Although James enjoys those fleeting moments where he gets Regulus riled up, he much prefers seeing him relaxed. “Oh—I—Yes. Occasionally,” he stammers, swallowing and reaching for a napkin to dap at his mouth with. “Barty convinced me,” he hastily adds. “It’s a very private account. I’m hardly active on it.”
Sinking into his seat, James pats around for his own phone. “You should follow me.”
“Shu?”
“On Instagram. You should follow me. If you want, of course.”
The tips of Regulus’ ears turn a delicious pink as he returns his attention to his plate. “I’ll think about it.”
After some more idle talk and eating, they decide to head out before Barty ultimately decides it’s past working hours and he’s not dropping Regulus off at home—some palatial penthouse tucked away in one of London's secluded enclaves where the affluent reside, enjoying a life of extravagance as they remain shielded from the public gaze.
Nonetheless, the cherished designated driver will have to linger a bit longer, as both James and Regulus pull out their cards at the cash register. Being a very wise man, Hakeem registers the amount into the terminal and swiftly turns away, well aware that nothing good ever comes from getting involved.
James dismissively waves his hand. “You can put away your card, it’s on me.”
Of course, Regulus isn’t compliant in the slightest. “I made you feel obligated to stay longer than you intended, so it's only right that I pay.”
“I’m the one who invited you, come now.”
“And I’m the one responsible for making you miss out on dinner.”
“Nah. I told you, it was my fault. Seriously, I want to—”
He attempts to move closer, but Regulus also edges forward. Despite being shorter, Regulus exudes an air of authority that instinctively compels James to widen the gap between them and not bump into him. “And I insist.”
But luckily, James is taller and his arms are longer. “Gotta be quicker than that then.”
He extends his arm, shooting right past Regulus’ and taps his card against the terminal, smiling smugly when Regulus scowls up at him, not in the least impressed by his playing dirty. James’ lips part, a jab resting right on the tip of his tongue, something along the lines of ‘They don’t teach you this at fancy pants school?’ only for a chime to disrupt his train of thought.
Card declined.
“Low funds, Yakup,” Hakeem announces without looking over his shoulder like James isn’t sinking to his knees in embarrassment already.
“You got paid four days ago,” Regulus murmurs at his side.
“Rent and utilities were due yesterday.” It nearly comes out in a whine.
“I doubt your rent takes up your whole salary.”
“I also had to pay off my credit card,” James grits out, fumbling through his wallet looking for some cash. In an alternative universe where they’re starred in some cartoon show, the poor faux leather division coughs up dust motes.
“Seriously? How much do you make?
“Might I remind you that you pay me.”
The way Regulus clutches onto his credit card, unlimited of course, one might think the poor thing is about to fold in half. James might as well, to be honest. “Move.”
“No.” His pride’s already been hurt. “Hakeem, can I pay in installments?”
“Only if you take young Khadija out on a date.”
James considers it for a moment, but Regulus the comment only makes Regulus seethe further, “Potter, if you don’t move I’ll give you a reason to worry.”
That’s enough to convince James. He steps away, all kicked puppy-like, and watches how Regulus’ payment gets processed far quicker. “Next time’s on me.”
Regulus rolls his eyes, even as the apples of his cheeks dust pink. “Come, I’m tired and want to go home.”
#jegulus#james potter#regulus black#jegulus fanfiction#marauders#marauders au#jegulus microfic#starchaser#sunseeker#ino microfic tag!#arab jegulus <3#i had to split this in two and i fear the first half shan't see the light of day for a while yet#for now it's just in a doc for mil's perusal..#this is v low effort but it's why i love it#ceo reg save me#fic / word on the street is i excel in the sheets.#i forgot the title </3#80% is asleep but matter not... it shall find u
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HIIIIII!! I am so glad the anon feature is back Im so shy!
could I please request a small little blurb of Izuku beating up kaachan just overall tired of getting berated and things like that from katsuki. idk im rewatching the series and just want Izuku to put katsuki in his place one time for the one time! ORR a small story of reader, Izuku, and katsuki being friends and growing up together and reader always stood up for my boy Izuku.
pink and green heart anon (im on my laptop and can't access my emojis)
Ooooh Someone speaking my language. Hello 💚🩷 Anon!! I'm so sorry this took so long to answer. I've been busy IRL and with my main fics so I haven't gotten to all my asks but I'm sorting through them. I hope you're doing okay sweetheart :)
Fuck you
Midoriya Izuku x Reader
You sat in the common room of the dorms trying to think up of a plan for this years culture festival. Being in third year UA High School, the past two years you had always done something musical themed, but now your class wasn't entirely sure on what to do this year.
"I think maybe a combined project with Class B could work." Midoriya pitched in. The green haired hero had certainly changed the past three years. He was taller now, with added muscle gain too, however often than not you barely noticed unless he was shirtless. His emerald eyes looked over at the group of you that stood around the table. "They are good at plays and we are good at music. Together we could put on something that caters to both and inbetween audiences."
Iida Tenya nodded his head with furrowed eyebrows. "I can talk to Kendo-san but i doubt she would be opposed to it with them."
Asui let out a ribbit as she smiled. "That sounds like a great idea Midoriya-kun." She stated.
You nodded your head as you looked at the green haired teenager in your class. "It is a brilliant idea. We could do a musical!" You suggested. "Why didn't we think of that before. Good job, Midoriya." You praised as well with a light shove to the side of him.
A light blush went to his face but he just smiled, grateful for your support. He opened his mouth to speak but a TSK was heard.
Leaning back in a chair around the table was Bakugou Katsuki, who you were even shocked was here in the first place. Judging by Kirishima (the big man he was starting to turn out to be) was standing behind him, you could only guess it was his idea. "That's a stupid idea, but no surprise considering it came from Deku."
"Whoa dude." Denki let out surprised a the unnecessary friendly fire.
"Bakugou, don't be so rude!" Kirishima hissed down at his best friend. His ruby eyes moved up to Midoriya who stood with a frown on his face. "I'm sorry Midoriya."
"I'm not." Bakugou let out as he stopped leaning back to sit up straight. "The last thing we need is a combined project. It takes too much time and our two classes have different scheduled times too."
Momo had her hands holding her arms as she kept her sweater tight around her. "I'm sure we can work around it." She suggested with a gentle shrug.
"Not with the way Aizawa has been grilling us into the ground. I mean, really Deku? Joining with Class B? A fifth grader could have come up with that!" Bakugou shouted.
"Bakugou, just stop it okay." You said with a frown. "Leave him alone, it's a good idea!"
Instead of looking bashful of shy or ashamed, Midoriya just stared at Katsuki with emotionless green eyes. Midoriya had started getting more and more fed up with Bakugou's antics and the two started butting heads more and more. "What is your problem?"
"HUH?!"
"You fucking heard me, don't make me repeat myself." You had to double take as you looked to Midoriya, shocked that you just heard what he said come out of his mouth. He kept his hands in his pockets as he looked down at Bakugou in half disgust. Iida was shocked himself, not even trying to correct Midoriya on his language.
Bakugou paused with a disbelieving look. He closed his crimson red eyes and let out a light scoff as he moved to put his hands on the table as he stood up. "My problem? If I find an idea stupid, I'll call it stupid."
"No." Midoriya denied with a shake of his head. "No, this is deeper. You have an issue with me and I want to know why? What did I ever do to you!?" He asked as he put a hand to his chest.
"You coming to this fucking school." Bakugou specified. "You trying to act like you aren't the same quirkless little loser that you were four years ago! A hand me down quirk from All Might will never change that."
"Oh my God." Midoriya laughed in disbelief. "Why won't you grow up, Kacchan! How on earth you can feel threatened by me is something I can't even try and understand!"
Bakugou's eyebrows raised. "Threatened by you? Oh no, Deku. I can't be threatened by nothing."
You gasped as you snapped to look at the blond. "What the hell!"
"That's not very nice, Bakugou." Todoroki let out with a frown and furrowed eyebrows.
Bakugou just stared at Midoriya. "I preferred you in middle school. At least then you knew your place."
Midoriya didn't move for a moment before he slowly started to nod his head. Almost like he understood where Bakugou was coming from. However, not even a second later, Bakugou was on the floor and there was a flash of light.
Midoriya had pinned Bakugou to the ground as he raised his right hand up and punched the blond again with little to no humanity in his eyes. The green haired boy, seemed more determined to kill than anything.
"MIDORIYA!" Kirishima shouted as he tried to pull the green haired boy off of Bakugou.
Bakugou grinned as he laughed with a bloody smile but just managed to get Midoriya on the side of his face. A spark of his palm was aimed at Midoriya's face but Midoriya easily dodged with One for All, before punching him square in the nose.
Suddenly Shinso's binding cloth wrapped around Midoriya as he was pulled off of Bakugou. He frowned with a similar expression to Aizawa Sensei. Sero quickly managed to tape up Bakugou to keep the blond away from Midoriya as well. With the both of them restrained and restricted from each other.
Midoriya let out a frustrated growl as he fought against Shinso's binding. Bakugou let out a laugh as he grinned. "You punch like shit!"
"FUCK YOU!" Midoriya shouted at the blond with thin small pupils as he untangled himself and walked out of the common room.
-Glitch1d
#midoriya izuku angst#midoriya izuku#midoriya x reader#izuku x reader#mha x y/n#kirishima x reader#izuku midoriya x reader#deku x reader#izuku midoriya angst#tw angst
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I know you’ve been getting Ethan Edwards smuts recently but I just thought of one today and thought I’d share it with you! Riding Ethan because he’s too hurt to be on top!
Hoping you could write this for me!! Thank you!!
[ saddle up ] e. edwards
paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader
summary : a bored and injured Ethan finds his girl’s cowgirl hat from Halloween after a few months and is wearing it when she comes to the hockey house after class hoping she gets the hint
warning(s) : smut ! dirty talk, use of pet names during sex, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), injured!ethan (but he’s also horny lol)
author’s note : pls send all the ethan smut requests bc i am a whore for this man and i will pretty much write anything i get abt him lmaoo. enjoy anon <33
༺═──────────────═༻
The moment she walks into the hockey house after a full day of classes and lectures, something’s off. The house is usually buzzing with hockey players by the time four rolls around and she comes walking into the house.
This time, the house is empty. Luca isn’t sitting in the living room playing some kind of game with Adam, the Duke boys aren’t yelling at each other in the kitchen, no stray hockey player is doing his homework or playing with Luca if Adam has a game.
It’s too quiet.
“Ethan?” she calls out. “Are you here?”
There’s no way they’d leave Ethan alone with his injured shoulder. He still needs help with a few basic things and can’t put a lot of weight on his shoulder yet. That’s why she’s practically been living with four hockey players since she and Ethan came back from summer break.
As she walks up the stairs, a soft “here” comes from down the hallway. She pushes the door to Ethan’s room open and peeks her head inside.
Ethan is lying in bed so she feels a little better, but he’s wearing an unbuttoned checkered flannel and a pair of jeans. Her sparkly black cowgirl hat from Halloween is on his head. She covers her smile with her hand and has to stifle a laugh.
“What the hell are you wearing?” she asks, voice muffled by her hands. The laughter is evident in her voice. “What is happening?”
He smiles and slowly manuvers himself so he’s sitting up against the headboard behind him. “I got bored and was pacing around my room and I found your hat while I was doing that,” he tells her. “Dressed the part. I was hoping you’d do me a favor though.”
She kicks the door shut behind her and drops her bag on the floor next to it. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“Save a horse, ride a hockey player?” Ethan tells her. It’s more of a question than a comment. “Well, a hockey player dressed as a cowboy. Anyway, please?”
Even injured and ordered by the doctor to rest, Ethan is thinking about sex. Possibly explains why the house is so empty. “Did you kick everyone out or something?” she asks. “It’s Wednesday. The house is usually filled to the brim with hockey players by now.”
“Coach Naurato called an emergency practice at Yost,” he explains. “There’s a team meeting I have to go to at seven but until then, I have the house all to myself.” He pats his lap with the hand that’s attached to his healthy shoulder. “So, saddle up.”
The laugh that she’s been surpressing bubbles from her throat. She loses it for a second, but she kicks off her sneakers anyway. “You are insufferable, Ethan Edwards,” she laughs. “Hot, but insufferable.”
Ethan shoots her another smile. “Yeah, but you still love me anyway,” he comments as she carefully crawls onto his lap. “Plus, it’s been a while since you’ve been fucked so I knew you couldn’t turn this down.”
She rolls her eyes and plays with the button on Ethan’s jeans. “I wanted to be careful because of your shoulder, E,” she tells him. “But yeah I’m losing my mind a little bit because it’s been a while.”
“Knew it,” Ethan laughs.
“You better be nice to me,” she reminds him as she pops his jeans open by undoing the button. “I’ll make sure this goes excruciatingly slow for you if you’re not nice to me.”
He throws his hands in the air in surrender. “Alright,” he says. “No need for threats.”
She smiles and kneels between his knees so she can get his pants off. She wiggles the jeans off of his legs and throws them on the floor. She can clearly see the bulge that’s formed in his boxers. With a light touch, she traces the bulge and Ethan presses his lips in a line.
Her fingers trail up over his abs and toned chest until she grazes his stubbled jaw. She carefully leans over him so she doesn’t accidentally put pressure on his shoulder.
Their eyes meet and Ethan smiles. “Hi, baby,” he says.
“Hi, handsome,” she giggles. “You sit there and rest like the doctor you to. I’ll take care of you.”
Ethan nods and she surges forward to capture his lips in a needy kiss. She cups his jaw and moves herself so she straddles one of his thighs. One of Ethan’s hands slides up the back of her shirt that she borrowed stole from him.
It’s very much been a while since they’ve properly had sex. It was before Ethan’s surgery, which was nearly seven months ago. Even then it was sporadic because he was playing through an injury and she didn’t want to hurt him even more. It’s been consistently hands, fingers, and mouths since about five months ago.
They’re great, especially when it’s Ethan’s fingers or tongue that make her come. Nothing will compare to being filled by Ethan’s dick though.
Yeah, she’s missed proper sex. Just a little bit. Or a lot.
She reaches down between them to pull her Ethan’s shirt over her head. The kiss breaks but Ethan leans up a bit and presses kisses to her collarbone. The hat he is wearing is knocked off his head and falls onto the pillows behind him. She grabs it and puts it on her own head.
He looks up at her and pulls back. “Saving a horse, riding a hockey player,” she comments. “Plus, it’s my hat.”
“It looks better on you anyway,” he replies. She tilts her hat in his direction and Ethan laughs.
His fingers slide to her back and unclasp the bra she had on. It falls between them and Ethan tosses it to the floor. He kisses her collarbones and chest. His lips trail down to her boobs. He’s always loved her tits and has always given them extra attention. Now is no different.
She leans her head back and sighs as Ethan cups one breast while he takes the other in his mouth. He switches after a moment. Her fingers are in his hair and she leaves the occasional kiss to his temple. “Ethan,” she sighs into his hair.
“Let me give my pretty girl some love first,” he mumbles against her skin. She smiles into his locks. “Then you’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
It feels like an eternity later when Ethan finally pulls back and looks up at her with the most innocent look on his face. Her chest is covered in red marks that only the two of them will ever see since it’s not bathing suit season. She shakes her head with a laugh before she leans in and captures his lips in a soft kiss.
Ethan begins to push at the waist and of the leggings she has on. “Come on, baby,” he whines into the kiss. “Off. Want you to ride me, pretty girl.”
His words shoot straight to her core and she hums. She loves when he talks to her like this and calls her ‘pretty girl’.
She has to break the kiss so she can get her pants off for him. She pushes the leggings, along with her already wet panties, down to her knees. She kicks them off from there. Ethan bites his bottom lip when she crawls onto his lap, completely naked.
Very carefully, she pushes the flannel that he’s wearing off his body. He sits up so she can get it off his arms without bumping his shoulder. The shirt joins the rest of their clothes on the ground.
Just to be a tease, she rolls her hips against Ethan’s. He groans and both his hands fly to her waist. “Keep doing that and we’re gonna have a problem,” he tells her. With a smile, she pulls his boxers off of him. His dick springs free of it’s confines as she throws the fabric to the floor with a soft thud.
She takes him in one hand and reaches over to his table to grab a condom out of the drawer. He intercepts her hand and she raises her eyebrows at him. “As long as it’s okay with you, I don’t want to use one,” he comments. “I just want to feel you.”
“You are so lucky that I started taking the pill,” she tells him with a laugh. “I’d be saying absolutely not if I didn’t.”
“Thank God for birth control,” Ethan replies. She smiles and leans in to kiss him again. One of his hands comes up to cup her face. She moves herself so she straddles his waist.
After a few extra pumps, she lines Ethan’s dick up with her entrance. She slowly sinks down on his cock with a sigh against his lips. His hands are on her waist to help her stay balanced. She feels the familiar stretch as she lowers herself onto his dick.
Once he’s completely inside of her, she gives herself a second since it’s been a while. Then she slowly moves her hips, still trying to be careful of Ethan’s shoulder.
Soft pants pass her lips into the messy kiss. The quicker her movements are, the heavier the pants. She has to break the kiss and rests her forehead against Ethan’s so she can breathe.
One of his hands comes up and cups her jaw. His thumb runs over her swollen lips and her hair has formed a curtain around their faces. She continues to move at a steady pace.
“Fuck,” she pants. “Missed this, E. Missed you.”
“Never left, baby,” he tells her. “Missed this too though.”
She smiles and kisses him again. Her hands rest on his torso as she quickens her pace.
The kiss doesn’t last long. The tip of his cock grazes her favorite spot and she groans. She sits back and is able to move at a slower but more comfortable pace and speed.
Ethan’s fingers trail from her jaw, down between her tits and over her stomach until he reaches her clit. She falters in her pace for a second but quickly recovers as she gets used to his fingers on her clit. “Don’t stop, E,” she pants as the knot in her stomach forms. “Shit.”
“I have you, pretty girl,” Ethan tells her. His own voice is shaky. “Look so pretty riding my cock, baby.”
She bites her bottom lip as her legs begin to shake on either side of his waist. Her orgasm is imminent but she isn’t ready for this to be over so quickly.
Her hands slide from his torso to his chest. Ethan’s able to lean his head up a bit and press soft kisses to her wrist. He grabs her hand with his free hand and kisses the back of it before he trails kisses down her arm. He gently pulls her so she leans over him again.
She lightly wraps her arms around his neck and quickens her pace one more time. “Fuck, E,” she gasps as the knot threatens to come undone. “Don’t want this to be over.”
“Come on my cock, sweet girl,” he tells her. “We’ll do this as many times as you want. Just wanna see you come on my cock, baby.”
His words mixed with his fingers on her clit and dick inside her are too much and she comes the next time she lowers herself onto him.
She loudly cries out his name as she reaches her high. Ethan cups her face in his hands so she doesn’t fall but she also grabs onto the headboard just in case. She loses her vision for two seconds and sees stars.
Ethan isn’t far behind her. With his healthy arm, he lifts her up and comes on her stomach and thighs. She heavily pants with a smile on her face as Ethan sinks back against the headboard after his own orgasm. He has a lazy smile on his own lips.
She leans in and they share a handful of lazy kisses as they both come down from their highs and get feeling back in their bodies.
As soon as she feels like she can stand, she gets off of Ethan and grabs the shirt she stole from him to wipe herself off. She finishes the job once she pees and wets a cloth.
When she comes back into the room, Ethan has the hat back on and is laying under the covers from the waist down. She laughs and shakes her head as she crawls under the covers with him.
She presses soft kisses to the scar on his shoulder. “I love you,” she mumbles. “The hat’s gotta go though. I’m down to do that again without the hat.”
Ethan tosses the hat somewhere in the room. “I love you,” he tells her. “I have an alarm set so you can sleep if you want.”
With a soft hum in agreement, her tired body gives in to sleep as she curls up around her boyfriend.
༺═──────────────═༻
MASTERLIST
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SR Azul Ashengrotto - Apprentice Chef Vignette
"Master Chef"
[Kitchen]
Master Chef ― Azul Version
～Let's Make Rice Croquette 1～
Ghost Chef: Alright, today we'll have you make "rice croquettes."
Azul: Rice croquettes, hm. The ristorante my mother manages serves them, so I have tasted them before.
Azul: If I recall, the crisp shell on the outside and the soft risotto on the inside, as well as the different possible combinations of ingredients within it, make for a fantastic dish.
Ghost Chef: Your family runs a ristorante? Then you must be very knowledgeable in the kitchen. This course may be too easy for you.
Azul: Oh no, not at all. I appreciate all the guidance and encouragement you can give me.
Ghost Chef: Come now～ Don't be so modest! Alright, time to start cooking.
Ghost Chef: First, you'll make the risotto. Mince the onion and fry it in the pan.
Azul: Mince the onion, right. …Just in case, I will go over the proper procedure once. Could I ask you to confirm if what I say is correct?
Ghost Chef: Absolutely. It's good that you don't try to breeze past the basics.
Azul: After cutting the onion in half lengthwise, place the cross-section face down on the board. While leaving the root intact, make cuts at even intervals from the edge to the center.
Azul: Then, turn that onion 90 degrees and cut perpendicular to the previously made cuts… Does that sound correct?
Ghost Chef: Yep, that's perfect. Make sure to cut them in 3 to 4mm intervals so they're big enough to taste and use for forming the balls.
Azul: Understood. Now then, I hold the knife in my dominant hand, hold the onion with my other hand, and slice with the knife vertically…
[slip! roll…]
Azul: …Pardon me. It seems I didn't have a tight grip on it.
Azul: …Now then, I'll try that once more―
[slip! roll…]
Ghost Chef/Azul: …
Ghost Chef: Uhhh… Azul-kun, by any chance… Do you not have much experience in cooking?
Azul: That's correct. I am hoping to improve myself in this regard slightly through this Master Chef curriculum.
Ghost Chef: So, when you said you'd appreciate my guidance and encouragement, you really meant it!?
Azul: Indeed. Is something the matter?
Ghost Chef: You were carrying yourself with the confidence of a seasoned chef… So I completely assumed you were already skilled in the art of cooking.
Azul: I am able to discern the difference between something tasting good or bad, but cooking is outside of my wheelhouse.
Azul: And thus, I enrolled in Master Chef, as I believed that since this course is geared towards those unfamiliar with cooking, it would be a perfect way to start gaining experience.
Ghost Chef: I see… I find your approach commendable, Azul-kun. You're completely different from the owner of the restaurant I worked at back when I was alive!
Azul: The owner of the restaurant from when you were alive? …Could you perhaps elaborate a little more on them?
Ghost Chef: That owner couldn't cook anything at all, but would always find something to complain about my dishes.
Ghost Chef: Every time they tried to lecture me, I'd fume and think, "They're all talk, they don't know a thing about the amount of effort I had to put into this!"
Azul: …I think I understand. Just the other day, one of the staff members of the Mostro Lounge said something similar to me.
Azul: Something along the lines of… "MAAAN, AZUL, ALL YOU DO IS YAP YAP YAP EVEN THOUGH YOU DON'T KNOW SQUAT 'BOUT COOKING～"
Ghost Chef: Is that so? Then… Is that the reason why you decided to try to gain cooking experience?
Azul: Indeed. Although, I wouldn't say I'm quite so immature as to take such an emotional outburst that seriously…
Azul: But I find it vexing to even be told such a thing, so if someone believes I lack experience, then I should work at it to mitigate that. Thus, I've come here.
Ghost Chef: Good for you, Azul-kun, listening to what your staff has to say and putting yourself in their shoes.
Ghost Chef: Hearing that situation, I'll make sure to do my best and explain everything to you from a chef's point of view.
Azul: I can't possibly imagine that there would be any similarities in the point of view between the temperamental guy from my dorm and a chef that worked at a five-star restaurant…
Azul: But this should surely be a good experience. I am fully open to your instruction.
Ghost Chef: Sure! If you ever have any questions, you're always free to ask me anything.
Azul: Thank you.
[sizzle, sizzle…]
Ghost Chef: Looks like the onions are cooked. Time to add the rice into the frying pan.
Azul: Understood.
[rice pours into the pan]
Ghost Chef: If you stir too much, you can damage the rice. The key here is to gently cook it over low heat.
Azul: Chef, what constitutes low heat?
Ghost Chef: You'll want to set it to about where the tips of the flames aren't touching the bottom of the pan.
Azul: I see. I'll lower the heat slightly, then.
[click…]
Azul: Perfect. Now I just need to stir the wooden spatula slowly so the rice doesn’t get dama… HUH!?
[cracking sounds]
Azul: In the short amount of time that I took to adjust the heat, the rice started sticking to the pan…!
Azul: If I were to try to forcibly peel it off, the rice could be damaged and there is a risk that the quality of the dish would be lowered.
Azul: However, if I were to factor in the cost of the ingredients and the time until judging, I won't be able to remake this from scratch…
Azul: Chef, is there a way to recover my progress when the rice has stuck to the frying pan?
Ghost Chef: Yep. Just add a bit of the bouillon we were going to add later, and slowly peel it with your spatula.
[sizzle!]
Azul: It came off so cleanly…! Even in the face of a mistake, you can quickly turn things around… As expected of a pro chef.
Ghost Chef: Ahaha, you must be exaggerating! Although I can't say I dislike your compliment.
Azul: Not at all, this was very eye-opening for me. Please, let us continue.
[Kitchen]
Master Chef―Azul Version
～Let's Make Rice Croquette 2～
Ghost Chef: ―While the risotto cools, why don't you select what you want to put inside the croquettes?
Ghost Chef: Just like you said earlier, part of this dish's fun is the different combinations of texture and flavor that can be made from the chosen ingredients.
Azul: I can absolutely do that. Fufu… I should be more capable of this process.
Azul: For this dish, there will be 3 croquettes on 1 plate. …With that in mind, I would want to create some kind of theme to bring them together.
Azul: My chosen theme will be… "A Subtle Surprise."
Azul: The risotto has a simple tomato-based flavor… Therefore, with these standard ingredients, the results could go either way.
Azul: I'll have to weave everything together and consider good texture, how fulfilling it is, and that hint of surprise― All while not deviating from the recipe…
Azul: …Alright, I'LL GO WITH THESE!
[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]
Silver: …Something smells good.
Silver: I do hope I can live up to what's expected of a Master Chef judge…
Azul: Pardon me. I have brought your dish... Oh, I see, so the person who ordered this was Silver-san.
Silver: So, you're the chef, Azul? I'm looking forward to tasting it.
Azul: I, too, look forward to your tasting it. Here are the rice croquettes that you've ordered.
Azul: These have just finished cooking, so the insides will be hot. Please take caution when eating them.
Silver: Got it. Then… I'll try them now.
Silver: [blows on croquette]
[bite, chew, chew…]
Silver: Oh… There's cheese inside of this one. Delicious.
Silver: This one… There's shrimp. This is also delicious.
Silver: Finally, the third one… I see it has quail egg inside. Right, all three were delicious.
Azul: …Huh, are those your only thoughts?
Silver: Yes. It's was very good.
Azul: Please think a little harder. Isn't there anything else, like comments on specific ingredients you liked, or certain surprising flavors?
Silver: Specific ingredients I liked…? That would be the quail egg.
Silver: It was nice to see the meal I chose was not only filling, but filled with highly nutritional eggs.
Azul: YOUR MAIN TAKEAWAY WAS HOW FILLING IT WAS!? …Ahem, pardon.
Azul: Perhaps I should ask this differently. How did it taste?
Azul: The first one you tried was filled with cheese. I mixed basil into it to help its compatibility with the tomato-based risotto.
Azul: For the shrimp one, I added fried garlic chips to it to give it a little flavorful kick.
Azul: Finally, the boiled quail eggs. I flavored it with a tad bit of ketchup to add a bit of extra favor.
Azul: With that added moisture, it should have softened the flakiness egg yolk slightly, and make for a more enjoyable flavor…
Silver: I see, you put a lot of thought into it.
Silver: Even after your explanation, I still don't really get it at all, but everything truly was delicious.
Azul: YOU DIDN'T GET IT AT ALL!? That's absurd…
Azul: If the judge himself doesn't understand, then all of the extra efforts and ingredients that I put forth into it will have all been for naught!
Ghost Chef: Come now, Silver-kun is saying it's delicious, so I don't think it was all for naught at all.
Azul: However, if my efforts truly couldn't be conveyed… Did I not use enough basil, garlic, or ketchup?
Ghost Chef: I feel like you wouldn't want to put too much in it, either… It can be difficult because everyone's tastes are different.
Silver: My apologies. Perhaps if your judge had been anyone else, they would have been able to fully taste the efforts you put into it the flavor.
Ghost Chef: But you thought it was delicious, right, Silver-kun? That means that Azul-kun's flavoring was still spot on.
Azul: Right… That's right. Putting aside any improvements needed for the cost in time and ingredients, I was able to actually put together a dish that someone considered delicious.
Azul: If I can keep improving my cooking skills little by little, then I won't ever have to hear someone say I'm just "yapping" ever again!
Ghost Chef: Ahaha… Even though you said you wouldn't take something like that seriously… Looks like those words really did have a hold on you.
Requested by Anonymous.
#twisted wonderland#twst#azul ashengrotto#silver#twst azul#twst silver#twst translations#twst masterchef
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Paige as a girl/boy mom HCs!
a/n: So, keep in mind that some of these could be switched. Like this is just me exponentially running my mouth. I actually might do another part. Enjoy!
Boy mom:
Paige would absolutely be too excited for her son to be strong and old enough so that she can play with him. You constantly have to remind her to be patient and to at least wait until he can walk lol.
She would 100% put a basketball in his hands the second he has his first steps. I actually think she would even do it while he is still using his baby walker. Once he actually makes a basket, she’ll run laps around the house screaming because she enjoys the belly laughs her son makes.
She would read him stories and get too involved. Especially if they’re comics. She’ll be shouting out the sound effects and you have to walk into them bursting into fits of giggles. They both would have matching pouts once you tell her that he’s past his bedtime. (Btw she's definitely the fun mom)
Video games. That’s it. Although you two had a conversation about getting him into video games later in life, as soon as he set his eyes on Paige playing, he had been so adamant about playing that you both gave in.
She buys him a new set of clothes literally every other day.
“Babe, just imagine him in this. He’ll look like a little gentleman.” Like it's crazy how much clothes he would have.
She definitely takes him to her practices sometimes and even teaches him as soon as he shows any type of interest in basketball. (This reminds me...Paige would never push her kids into one particular sport BUT she would push them into an active lifestyle so trust she will always be doing something with them.)
Him and KK would be besties btw. Even when he used to babble out incoherent words, I can just imagine how chaotic KK would be with a baby boy and Paige would 100% not make anything better.
“Bababa.” Your baby blows a raspberry.
“You heard him!” KK shouts, turning to him, “Damn little man, I couldn't have said it better myself.”
“KK, language.” You deadpan.
Once he’s out of that fragile baby faze and into that toddler stage, I get the feeling she’ll definitely fling him around (safely ofc). Like she’ll pick him up and just throw him to the couch or on to his bed, loving the sound of his laughs.
Beach days go crazy with them two. Literally two kids. Sandcastles, water fights, beach volleyball. I get a feeling they go home completely covered in sand and Paige carries him back to the car while he’s too sleepy to open his eyes.
She’s just so fun. Always in an adventure with him especially if it’s really active. Like camping, surfing, hiking …etc.
Horror/Space movie nights with a pillow fort and popcorn.
Whenever she does anything fun with her teammates or travels for her games, her first thoughts are about you and him and how much fun you guys could have. Def keeps a bucket list of places for you guys to visit
You’ve definitely found her sound asleep in his bed with him curled up to her side. It happened when you ask her to put him to sleep after practice but she’s way too tired herself to get up and out of his room.
You think she secretly enjoys playing with his toys more than he does lol. Like you’ve definitely found her playing with them while he's long gone.
She could not cook for shit in the early days of your relationship but as time went on, she learned just to be able to cook for you guys. I actually envision her as a grill dad lol. She’ll definitely wake up early in the morning, step out into the cold weather and cook you guys some breakfast.
"If they punch you, punch them back harder." Mom.
Paige strikes me as a mother that would particularly show an abundant amount of love for her boy. She recognizes that, just like girls, boys need reassurance and love.
You constantly find them breaking into fits of laughter and giggle alone. It's the cutest thing ever.
Girl mom:
Paige is absolutely smitten and head over heels even before the baby girl is born. She’ll lay her head softly on your stomach and talk for hours to her.
Once she’s born though it’s a whole other side of Paige. She’s usually clumsy, but you never see her be so cautious like when she’s holding the girl. Literally sloth pace once she has her in her arms. Honestly kinda funny.
She’d be way too excited and paint everything pink and have everything ready for her MONTHS before she’s born. Before she was born, you'd catch her just looking or sitting around the room all alone.
Geeks about small girl clothes. Especially dresses and little sandals. You have to constantly deal with her sending you a bunch of pictures of clothes whenever she goes shopping with messages like “We’ll have a little princess walking around in our house soon.” or “I can’t wait to put this on her babe.”
Paige will 100% let her daughter put on makeup on her and it doesn’t matter how bad she looks; she’ll walk out with it on in public if her daughter asked her. Just imagine her sitting in a chair that’s wayyy too little for her, hunched over as your daughter tries her very best to apply some of that cheap kids makeup. omg.
Puppy eyes work on her almost too easily. And it’s hilarious.
“Hey…What did I tell you about candy at this hour?”
Puppy eyes
“Hmmmmm. Fine. But don’t tell your mother. And this is the last one!”
Or…
“I’m too tired honey…”
Puppy eyes
“Fine, let’s go.”
She does her signature hairstyle on her daughter’s hair, and it makes you laugh because she turns into a miniature version of Paige. Talking about a miniature Paige...trust that her daughter would literally copy her mother's sass.
Same with the makeup, Paige would let her daughter paint her nails. She always gets made fun of in her practices, but she couldn't care less. Strangely I think she would actually like going through her game pictures and seeing the chipped and uneven colors all over her nails because it was her baby girl who did them.
Protective as hell I’m afraid. Like she will not hesitate to smack the shit out of someone or scream at them if they're being weird or disrespectful or mean etc.
Matching fits. I think she would love to either match fits or color with her daughter (and son too dont get me wrong). Especially when showing up to games and they’re photographed together.
Watching princess movies with her is Paige’s favorite downtime activity. After a tough match or practice she absolutely loves getting home to her angel and just lounge around on the sofa while watching “The Princess and the Frog.” Especially when they either both fall asleep, or her daughter falls asleep and she carries her back to her room.
You’ve definitely found her sleeping on the floor next to the crib in the early days.
Paige in a rocking chair with her daughter sleeping on her. >>>>
Instagram feed would be full of her daughter's pics without her face. Even if fans know what she looks like she still likes to do it.
Paige would find it strangely soothing to play with her daughter's hair or even fiddle with her tiny little fingers absentmindedly.
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mehndi laga ke rakhna
heeseung looks for his name in your henna the night before your wedding.
pairing :: lee heeseung x gn!reader
genres/au’s :: fluff
warnings :: brief food talk
word count :: 0.5k
author’s note :: i don't care how this performs (at least i'm telling myself that) because this fic is completely self-indulgent. no one asked for this. i hope my fellow desis and everyone else who chooses to read this enjoy this nevertheless. this is so embarrassing omg DON'T LOOK AT ME. also, jaanu means dear in urdu/hindi and i used it because i'm feeling delusional.
beta readers :: @sunoosill but she might have been too busy laughing at me to actually edit it LOL I APPRECIATE YOU THO <3
soundtrack :: kesariya (honestly i was listening to o re piya while writing but that song makes me sad so here)
“oh, you look beautiful,” heeseung declared from the couch, his right hand on his heart as you rounded the corner into your warmly lit living room, “do a little twirl.”
“i’m wearing pajamas, heeseung,” you protested but lifted the ends of your pajamas to spin for your fiancé with a bashful grin.
“how long did this take?” heeseung’s eyes widened as you approached, surprised by the level of detail in your mehndi.
“five or six hours. she had to cover my feet, too,”
“five or s—” heeseung’s mouth fell agape, “i hope you got to eat and drink water.”
“i did, don’t worry,” you laughed off his comment, recalling how frantic your friends and family were to ensure you were doing just that, “and…i have a little surprise for you.”
heeseung tilted his head in curiosity, gaze fixed on you as you joined him on the sofa. “and what would that be?”
“do you remember that tradition i told you about? the one that—”
“you wrote my name in there?” a toothy smile started to form on heeseung’s lips as he gently pulled your right hand toward his face.
“just your first name,” you smiled, combing the hair that had fallen into heeseung’s face in his excitement back with your free hand. he remained focused on your hand as he used his pointer finger to follow a spiral from the center of your palm outward.
“this will be so easy,”
“if you think it’s so easy, maybe we should add some stakes,” you suggested. you tried to sound like you had just come up with this idea, but your delivery revealed that you had thought about it much beforehand. he looked up with a cocked eyebrow, always in the mood for a challenge. “if you don’t find your name in the next three minutes, i win — in which case, i get to write my name on you too. in the same spot.”
“okay, deal,” he said softly, smiling to himself as he set a timer before looking back down at your mehndi. your heart swelled with affection as he moved his touch along your forearm to check there, grazing each square inch with his soft fingers. he met your eyes momentarily, shaking his head as if to say “not on this one.”
picking up your left hand, he repeated the process, starting from the center of your palm and working outward. he paused briefly midway through tracing your fingers but continued, biting his bottom lip to conceal a grin.
“you have a terrible poker face, jaanu,” he pretended not to hear you, so you wiggled your fingers to get his attention. “i know you found it.”
“you’re so sentimental that i knew exactly where it was going to be,” heeseung admitted, curling your left index and middle fingers forward to reveal, among the scallops of the design, ‘HEESEUNG’ written along the length of your ring finger. “but i knew you wanted to write your name on my hand.”
“oh, who’s the sentimental one now, hm?” you rolled your eyes, giving a playful push to his shoulder.
heeseung reached behind himself to reveal a mehndi cone, a proud smirk on his face, “might be me,” he handed you the cone and put his left hand in yours.
“it’s definitely you,” you leaned forward, pressing a small kiss onto the corner of his grin.
masterlist
#hoes4hoseok#heeseung 💋#lee heeseung fluff#lee heeseung x y/n#lee heeseung#lee heeseung imagines#lee heeseung x reader#enhypen heeseung#heeseung#enhypen angst#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fanfiction#heeseung fluff#heeseung imagines#heeseung x reader#enhypen#lee heeseung x you#heeseung oneshot#lee heeseung oneshot
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Haunted
“You remind me of a man I used to know.”
I was watching the embers in the fire die, and the thought just came, out loud. The Ghoul chewed an unknown meat off the stick he’d skewered it on, not looking up to dignify my statement with even so much as a grunt. Maybe not then, I thought sadly. Maybe all the men like Cooper had died when the bombs dropped. I certainly hadn’t met a man like him since we’d said goodbye to each other at that party. Still, I continued.
“He was a lot friendlier than you – though I suppose actors are predisposed to high levels of charisma.” I smiled to myself from behind the handkerchief covering my face, thinking of how simple the past now seemed in comparison to the present.
“Actor?” It was first word I’d heard him speak since he told me to put out the fire that had cooked our dinner and it brought me from my daydream of my old life.
“Yeah, actor. One of the good ones, most of the time anyway.” I chuckled to myself, remembering the tantrums he used to have on set if something wasn’t entirely accurate.
“How would you have known an actor?”
“Well, if you must know, I was-”
I was cut off by a knife flying past my face and narrowly missing my eye, and then there was a body on top of mine, all flailing limbs and trying to stab me, grabbing a hold of my neck and head to hold me down. I grabbed the pocket knife hidden in my coat and wounded my attacker, before rolling the both of us over and pushing his face into the dying ashes. Their screams echoed out against the darkness of the wasteland, and I heard several gunshots. I took my pistol from my belt and shot whoever had tried to jump me in the back of his skull, letting him fall limply beside me.
I look up through the dying light to see the Ghoul surveying our surroundings, before looking down at me and I realised with horror I didn’t have the handkerchief covering my face anymore.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Rosie Ryder,” he let out an audible laugh, “What are you doin’ out in the Wasteland?”
My face went bright red, and I huffed.
“Even after the apocalypse, people still just know me as the girl who played the hooker that got her titties out for Cooper Howard,” I rolled my eyes and sighed, “I’ve done other movies, you know.”
“Yeah, you were great in Under the Covers,” he chuckled again, “although for you that film must have mostly been about shooting all that kissin’ you did to the poor bloke. I bet his lips were chapped at the end of every day!”
“You a fan of Cooper Howard?” I asked, looking him up and down, “this get-up of yours seems pretty inspired by his work.”
“You could say that, Little Miss Ryder.”
I laughed bitterly and gestured down at the three bodies around us.
“We should probably find somewhere else to sleep tonight, in case anyone heard the gunshots.”
I checked the pockets of the bodies but couldn’t find anything other than a couple of caps and a gun with some ammo still left in it.
“No chems?” he asked, and I shook my head.
“No chems.”
***
As we continued in our direction, the Ghoul became more talkative.
“So, if you were Little Miss Rosie Ryder, you must be at least two hundred and something years old,” he began, “So how are you here right now?”
I shrugged.
“It’s a long, long story. We don’t got that much time, Ghoulie.”
Eventually we came across a shabby-looking shack that looked just about safe enough for the night and might potentially keep us safe from any radstorm that might decide to descend onto us. And maybe from any raiders, too.
The Ghoul went in first, checking the inside whilst I set a bear trap up in front of the door, before following him inside. It seemed as if someone might have been living here for a bit – there was a sofa and a little table, as well as a small counter with what looked like to be a broken-down hob. No signs of life anymore, though. Everything had a thick layer of dust coating it, and any essentials seem to have been hastily removed when the last occupier had left.
“The walls seem pretty sturdy and the roof’s secure,” he said, “did you put a bear trap outside the door?”
“Yeah, don’t wanna take the risk we did earlier.” I sighed. “Still, can’t help but think we’re still sitting ducks if someone breaks in. We’re not exactly in the safest area – I know at least two Raider groups who have bases nearby.”
“They’ll break in and come face to face with my pistol aimed at their skulls, sweetheart.”
“Oh, I’m ‘sweetheart’ now, am I? Now that you know what I look like under all these clothes?”
The Ghoul stepped closer to me, the shadow of his hat towering over me.
“Maybe I jus’ appreciate those actin’ skills of yours,” he murmured, “on top of that fine figure.” He stepped back from me and sat down on the sofa, slouching.
“I’ll take first watch, Little Miss Rosie. I’ll wake you in a few hours and when the light comes, we’ll continue, and you can tell me that long, long story of yours.”
***
Susie Wellington was coiffuring my hair for my first scene, as I sat tugging on my cotton skirt trying to psyche myself up for the scene ahead. We’d rehearsed it a bunch of times in table reads but this was the real thing – closed set and all.
“Susie, I think the leading lady’s hair’s done up enough for now,” came a voice from the corner, “and you should be making your way back to the dressing rooms. I’m sure Little Miss Rosie Ryder here doesn’t want another cast member staring at her tits.”
I looked up in relief as Cooper appeared beside us, cigarette in hand. Susie didn’t look to happy about having to leave her creation as it was, but only pursed her lips and bid me goodbye.
“You excited for your first scene, Little Miss Rosie?” he asked, and I felt a strange sense of deja vu come over me at his words. I ignored it and put a shaky smile on my face.
“I’m excited to get the nudity outta the way, that’s all I’m gonna say!” I giggled a bit, and he laughed alongside me.
“Well, there’ll be a barrier in place of everythin’ and that dress of yours ain’t comin’ off completely. Gotta keep them perverts on their toes.” He winked at me, and I tried to keep the smile on my face, but under it all, I felt as if this was very dangerous.
As he kissed me softly in front of the cameras and rolled his eyes playfully as the director asked him to push my dress up to show more of my skin, I felt something lurking in the shadows. Once this was shot, there was no going back and for some reason, I felt completely doomed.
***
I woke up with a start, flinging my body forward. From the sofa, the Ghoul shushed me, holding a gloved finger over my mouth.
I could hear something outside, and I assumed that was what woke me up. It was a strange sound, of someone dragging their feet through the dirt and the mud. We sat there in silence for a full half an hour, until the dragging sound moved away from the hut and back out into the darkness.
“You mind takin’ the next watch, Sweetheart?” he said, “I need to get a couple hours kip in before we set off tomorrow.”
“Sure,” I say tentatively, pulling out my pistol. “I’m glad you finally trust me.”
“Well, I’m a huge fan.” He laid heavy emphasis on the ‘huge’, winking at me through the dusk light. I rolled my eyes, but inside I felt a little proud for some stupid goddamn reason.
Back when I started acting, I didn’t think I’d have any living fans – never mind a half-dead irradiated man from 200 years in the future. Is he half-dead? It’d never been explained to me at the brothel – I’d just done my service and taken the RadAway. None of the others had ever stuck around to tell me their life story.
We switched places, I sat myself down on the sofa and the Ghoul lay down on the bedroll on the floor.
“Damn, this shit is fuckin’ uncomfortable.” I heard him say, and I let out a laugh under my bed.
“I didn’t complain,” I whispered, and he made a grunting noise. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be an insult or not, but I just chuckled quietly and pulled out my pistol, aimed at the door ready for anyone who tried to force their way through.
The sun rose quickly after that, and by the light of the sky, I was able to get a better look at the Ghoul’s sleeping face. There was something so familiar about him, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I decided it was the cowboy look – it reminded me of the niche I’d almost fallen into after my three-month contract with Cooper’s team. The audience had loved our chemistry on screen in The Man from Deadhorse, and the studios knew they’d get a lot more money if we came as a package deal – so we shot Under the Covers, City of Starlight and Valley of the Gun together. It took me back to the last film I’d shot, the one I hadn’t finished shooting.
I looked down at my clothes – the same clothes I’d been wearing 200 years ago on set. The ‘Western Hooker’ dress, of which there had originally been five different versions. The hat, which I’d stolen from my co-worker as a joke, but had still been on my head when we’d been told to start running. For a moment, I could still smell the food that they’d made us on set. I could still smell the horse manure, and the flashing of lights.
I looked back at the Ghoul, awake now, and almost came to a realisation.
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Star Patient: Chapter 5 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)
WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.
Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).
Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.
Incest is not Wincest.
Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:
Wordcount: 12,000+ words
Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, current chapter, chapter 6 (in the works)
Andrew glided through the hospital corridors, taking the elevator to the pediatric branch. He really couldn’t care less about the kid, Hailey, but for some reason his favorite nurse just loved the little nuisance.
He felt a bit jealous. Does she like Hailey more than him?
Obviously, she does, considering how she had talked about the girl when they first met. He felt pretty annoyed. Did she spend more of her time and attention on the ill girl? Did she get to innocently hug her like that? If Andrew wasn’t so prideful, he’d definitely ask her for a hug.
Hell, he was really fighting with himself to ask now. Just a small quick hug, nothing bad! He wondered if he could genuinely pull that off. He wondered how she must feel inside his arms. Would she rest her head against his chest, or would she rather prefer resting it on his shoulder? Is she one of those people who cling onto you like their life depends on it, or was she someone who preferred soft and polite hugs? Would she be a long and affectionate hugger, or simple and sweet?
He put that thought in the back of his mind for now, rolling down the hallways to Hailey’s room. He didn’t bother to open the door, much like he did with (Y/N)’s room earlier, as he strolled in without a care.
Hailey laid in her bed, her eyes glued to some book (Y/N) got her, before she glanced at him. Her eyes raised, surprised to see the pale man again.
“Andrew, was it?” she questioned, her voice sounding better from yesterday. “What are you doing here?”
“(Y/N) told me to check on you.” He stated bluntly.
“(Y/N)? Is she here?” Hailey questioned, a smile growing on her face. “I haven’t seen her tonight! I thought she was off work?”
Andrew was about to open his mouth and say (Y/N) was, before remembering how the nurse didn’t want the girl to know about her condition.
“Uh, no…” he muttered, looking away. “She… wanted me to get into books to distract myself… so she told me to go to you for any books.” He lied.
“So you do have an interest in books after all.” Hailey smiled. “You must have an interest in nurse (Y/N) too, huh?” Hailey smirked teasingly.
“…What are you getting at?” Andrew questioned, resisting the urge to glare at the sick girl.
How the hell did this kid know? Andrew questioned to him.
“It’s very obvious.” She smiled. “See, if I had a past life, I’m sure I was like a cupid!”
“Uh, yeah. Sure, kid.” He spoke, brushing off the comment as he decided not to entertain nor deny the idea.
“I’m very serious.” Hailey re-enforced. “I can see it in your eyes! You’re invested in her!”
Who is this brat… Andrew thought, annoyed but intrigued (much to his dismay).
“You know, I’ve known her ever since she came here. I know her type of men.” Hailey lied, a mischievous smirk growing on her face.
“…You do?” Andrew muttered, now he was unashamedly interested.
“I could tell you…” she hummed, trailing off. “Or not.”
Andrew looked hesitant, before letting out a sigh. He rolled his chair up to her bedside, glancing down at her lap where her open book rested.
The book she got from (Y/N)…
God, everything just seems to trace back to that woman, huh? No matter what, everything he sees and hears all traces back to her, even outside of the hospital people are attracted to her (even if the reasons could be malicious). It’s almost pathetic how hooked he is on her, despite not even knowing her for a week. It’s almost scary how everyone seems to be attracted to the girl, she just had an aura that everyone was aware of and drawn to.
He could look at something stupid like his shoes and remember her footsteps as she walked with him to the surgery room. He could remember her hands on his face, chest, wrist, looking all around and checking his condition, his bandages, his vitals. He could look at his bedsheets and remember her hands tucking him in for bed… and imagine things he’d rather not envision for a woman he just met.
Yeah, back in the hatch those thoughts go.
“Could you just tell me?” he huffed, trying to sound as uninterested as possible despite asking for this, rather impatiently at that.
“Well? Do you like her?” Hailey questioned.
Andrew took the moment to think to himself. Yeah, she was a pretty nice nurse, and she knew her stuff despite specializing in pediatrics; though he shouldn’t be surprised, children are basically just the same anatomy as adults, just smaller in size.
She had a nice voice, and she somehow balanced between playful and professional, perhaps that’s practiced for pediatrics to make kids feel comfortable yet still hold authority.
She had a cute smile, and her eyes were pretty to look into. He liked looking at her while she worked, sometimes she’d even bite her lip or stick her tongue out to remind herself to concentrate. She looked like an angel laying on that white hospital bed. Even in pain, she still looked pretty.
He wondered how she was outside of the hospital. She was a human too, how did she act with her friends, or her family? How did she act alone? Was she single? Did she have a boyfriend, or did she prefer girls? Would she take interest in him? Could she see him as a potential partner?
Fuck. Yeah, he definitely liked her.
“Just a little…” he muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.
This feels weird (and degrading, in a sense) to be relying on a sick kid for love advice.
“So you admit it?” she smiled.
“Are you gonna tell me or not?” Andrew growled.
By now, Hailey was no longer fearful or anxious of Andrew. Andrew was just a lovesick puppy hopelessly enamored with her favorite nurse, in her eyes at least. She learned that expression from her books.
“No.” Hailey smiled, picking up her book.
“Why?” Andrew questioned, feeling a little betrayed that she made him admit his feelings only to not hold onto their deal.
“Because I lied.” Hailey smiled. “I don’t know her type.”
“Brat…” Andrew muttered under his breath, unashamed to be talking smack in front of a dying kid.
He could’ve said worse, but it’s quite mean to talk ill to a sick child, especially in front of them. Besides, (Y/N) wouldn’t like it if she found out.
“So, books?” Hailey hummed, getting back to her reading. “This book I’m reading right now is pretty good. I can read it to you.” She suggested.
“No…” he grumbled, still a little upset that he was tricked.
He’ll let her lying slide. Kids will be kids, let them have their fun.
“How about I read it to you instead?” Andrew suggested.
He didn’t want her reading to him; he was the adult, not her. Besides, her voice sounds hoarse and struggling, he’d rather him read it to her than have the kid push herself—not because he’s soft or anything, but because (Y/N) would be upset.
Hailey seemed to ponder the idea, before handing over the book to him.
“Just don’t crease the pages.” Hailey spoke.
“Got it.” Andrew hummed, looking at the page she was originally reading.
He started at the beginning of the page, reading a bit wonky at first, before he started to get into the narration. The words started to flow more smoothly, and he even took pauses for dramatic effect at the intense moments that felt like they needed a pause to sink in.
One chapter became two, and two became four. He was pretty interested in the story, makes sense considering it was his (Y/N) who got the story, of course she’d have immaculate taste too.
He read until his throat went dry, the tip of his tongue aching from all the pronunciations. He looked up from the book to see Hailey asleep.
Did she get bored? Andrew thought, a little offended that she fell asleep at the book (Y/N) gave her instead of giving it to him, especially when he was kind enough to read it to her.
Maybe she just liked his voice? It’s perfect for listening to. His voice wasn’t quiet, but it wasn’t loud either, like a polite demand for attention or to respect his authority. It was deep, but not too deep, with a slight rasp from smoking. He was good at projecting his voice so others could listen to him—well, everyone except Ashley, really.
Thinking of Ashley, where is she? She was sure acting weird today. Something about the demon’s vision she saw in her dream. She also described (Y/N)’s appearance despite not even knowing the nurse; he couldn’t recall any moment they had interacted.
Andrew took a white bookmark that laid on her bedside table, placing it on the page he stopped reading on. He closed the book, placing it down on Hailey’s bedside. He wheeled out of the room, making his way back to the elevators.
He entered the elevator, pressing the button for the emergency branch, waiting for the doors to re-open. The metal shutters opened and he rolled out, going back to (Y/N)’s room.
He made it, opening the door and entering without bothering to knock. (Y/N) laid in the hospital bed, her eyes closed as she appeared to be sleeping.
Damn… Andrew thought, disappointed. I was hoping to talk to her.
He doesn’t know what he would’ve talked about, but he was hoping she’d start the conversation. He wanted to get closer to her, emotionally and physically.
Andrew debated what he should do, before finally giving in, rolling his wheelchair up to her side. He observed her sleeping face, blissfully unaware of his presence as she slept. Her hair was a little messy, perhaps from sleeping or from the attack earlier. Her skin was a bit paler than usual, perhaps from shock or blood loss. She had more prominent bags under her eyes than usual, resting heavily under her closed eyes.
He wondered who attacked her, and why. Was it a crazy ex boyfriend? Some stalker? A jealous friend? Someone suffering under delusions? He wondered what happened.
He had an idea, though he was scared to ponder on it.
Instead of thinking about it, he distracted himself. He looked down at her bandaged arm, trailing his hands down to her wrists, and to her fingernails.
Her nails were strangely clean. They were polished and trimmed, which makes sense considering nurses need to have good hygiene, especially so they don’t transfer bacteria or accidentally infect patients. They looked like they had been scrubbed squeaky clean recently, not even a trace of dirt under her nails.
Her hands looked small compared to his, clean and petite compared to his rough and damaged ones.
His hands had small burns from failing to light his cigarettes as a starter; her hands had small burns from ovens and hot cookware and hot glue guns, yet somehow her scars were far more attractive than his.
His hands were dirty, stained with blood and sins; hers were clean, baptized in purity and commandant.
He wondered how her hands would feel against his. They looked soft, would they feel soft? He wondered if she used lotion, what her favorite nail polish was, how long she liked her nails.
Those thoughts led to other thoughts. What did she like wearing when she’s at home? What does she wear in public? What kind of music does she listened to? What kind of foods does she like?
He decided it was best to stop those thoughts. He stared at her hands, juggling his thoughts in his head, before finally giving in. He reached out and held her hand with his larger one.
He held it gently, feeling the weight of it. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand soothingly, memorized at the difference. Her hand was slightly cold, possibly due to how cold the hospital’s AC is followed by blood loss, but it wasn’t uncomfortable to touch.
He looked at her face to see if she woken up or felt the touch. She didn’t.
His fingers carefully interlocked with her, cautious to make sure she wouldn’t accidentally wake up. She remained neutral, not even a flutter of her eyelashes or any stirring.
She must be really tired… Andrew thought.
His admired their hands as they eloped together. He noticed discoloration on her hands, He shifted his body, laying his elbow down on the edge of the mattress and using his arm as a pillow. He admired her sleeping face, closing his eyes to relish the touch and intimacy of this moment. He doesn’t know how long it took for him to fall asleep, but it was relatively quick.
.
.
A few hours later, Andrew jolted awake first at the sound of the door opening, turning his head at the noise. (Y/N) groaned, opening her eyes and seeing Andrew by her side, holding her hand as a man stood in the doorway, one Andrew didn’t know.
Andrew squeezed (Y/N)’s hand softly, a silent greeting before glaring at the man, almost possessive of (Y/N)’s vulnerable state.
“Hello, Doctor Ryan…” (Y/N) yawned, before directing her attention to Andrew. “And hello to you too, Andrew.” She hummed, smiling as she gently squeezed his hand back.
She looked down at their hands, wondering when she and Andrew started holding hands, or even when he returned back. Her hands trailed down to her sleeves, more so lack of, as the hospital gown didn’t have any long-sleeves for her. She noticed her scars out in the open and ripped her hand away from Andrew’s, a sense of insecurity and embarrassment rapidly building in her as she hid her arms under her blanket.
Andrew looked confused (even a little disheartened that she let go) as Doctor Ryan walked over to her. Doctor Ryan isn’t usually at the hospital on Saturday nights, but he could’ve decided to work overtime this week. It’s not unusual since he has a stay-at-home wife and three kids.
“Hello! I heard what happened and I figured I’d wait to see you when you’re awake.” The doctor smiled brightly, walking over to her bedside and sitting next to Andrew. “And who is this?” he questioned, looking at Andrew, yet having a good idea of who it was as he sent a knowing smirk.
While Doctor Ryan had never met Andrew face-to-face, he had read his report when assigning (Y/N) to watch him his first night, along with hearing all the gossip from Penelope.
Andrew had a small reputation around the hospital since he’s one of the trouble patients, on suicide watch and needing special treatment for his wounds and wants. Andrew wouldn’t accept any care from any other nurse during the night shift, it was a fight for the day shift to care for him until (Y/N) told him to behave for day shift. His sister was also banned from the hospital due to proving a threat to Andrew’s recovery and health, though she won’t be a problem anymore.
Rumors spread pretty easily of Andrew’s fondness and almost admiration of the nurse he chose, (Y/N). Penelope has a big mouth without meaning to, having a bad habit of rambling and over sharing her and other people’s problems and secrets, so it spread pretty quick of the strange relationship the nurse and patient shared. Penelope’s ramblings of doubt as a nurse because Andrew wouldn’t accept her care had reached Doctor Ryan’s ears, being the catalyst of his teasing to his student, (Y/N).
“This is Andrew.” (Y/N) introduced when she realized Andrew wasn’t going to answer the doctor’s question, only give him a nasty glare.
She cleared her throat, shoving her arms into her blanket so the pair of males didn’t see, and flashed a smile. “What’s your visit for? Don’t tell me you’re gonna make me work.” She chuckled lightly, trying to make a joke.
“I wouldn’t say 'work' exactly.” Doctor Ryan smiled, before it faltered, letting out a sigh. “You’re here today, so I figured it’d be a good time to tell you. I think it’s best if you see Hailey.”
“Hailey? Why? Did something bad happen to her?” (Y/N) questioned, doing her best to not sound alarmed or panicked.
It’s never a good thing for a nurse to panic, it’d defeat a key factor of their job. Nurses are supposed to provide aid to their patients, whether it’s emotionally or physically, or even emotional in cases like Andrew’s. A nurse panicking would panic their patient since they’re going to look to the one with most experience. If a patient panics, they can worsen their condition or provide unnecessary stress that can affect their recovery or even create new problems.
And people think being a nurse is just all fluffing pillows and handing out medication. You have to be constantly in tune with the patients emotions, symptoms, and healing process; from what they're feeling to how much they're eating or using the bathroom. Always checking up on how they are and cater them to the best of your ability; serving them food (and sometimes helping feed them), changing their bedsheets, helping them to the bathroom, helping out with physical therapy, prepping them for procedures or appointments, and charting. The worse is charting. You have to document every single thing; from what they ate and what times, to who visited them today, to how what they said to be feeling and what they looked actually looked to be feeling like, to any improvement or decline or neutrality of their status, to their behavior, to what medicines they had, to their complaints or compliments they have about the hospital or their treatment, and so much more.
“She’s just not in the greatest condition at the moment. I think it’s best she sees you.” Doctor Ryan spoke.
Before she could question it, Doctor Ryan grabbed something from his coat, placing it down on her bedside table.
“Here,” he spoke, patting what looked to be a Polaroid recorder down on her table, “I came to drop this off too. This was supposed to be a wholesome visit, until Hailey at least…” he spoke, allowing his smile to drop. “Check out the contents on the camera later. I have to get back to work. Get well soon!”
“Thanks.” (Y/N) smiled, watching Doctor Ryan leave the room.
“Who was that?” Andrew questioned, glancing over at her as he resisted the urge to grimace.
“That’s Doctor Ryan, he’s my professor! He’s the one teaching me pediatrics since I’m an apprentice.” (Y/N) explained, slowly sitting up from the bed.
Andrew watched her movements carefully, observing how she slowly took her time getting out of bed. She didn’t apply much pressure on her injured leg as her sock-clothed feet hit the ground (with clean hospital socks, none of her blood soaked up in it and used to plug in any stab wounds). The room looked like a carousel, spinning rapidly, and a headache followed with it, screaming loudly in her head. She let out a groan as Andrew quickly placed a hand on her waist.
"Careful..." Andrew muttered, watching her intently as he kept his hand on her waist.
"Thank you, but I'm fine." (Y/N) lied, placing her hand on his shoulder to use as leverage.
"Yeah, sure." He hummed sarcastically.
(Y/N) resisted the urge to glare at him. While she wasn't on duty, she was still his nurse and she didn't feel like having any workplace drama.
"Do you want me to assist you there?" Andrew questioned, his thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles on her hip.
"No, it's fine." She spoke, taking a few steps to the door and ignoring the stabbing sensation in her leg.
"Are you sure?" Andrew questioned, trying his best to not look too concerned for her.
"Yes, I'm sure." She huffed, trying not to be snippy. "It's for the best. I don't want Hailey to be nervous or worried, especially if there's something going on with her."
"Just be careful..." Andrew spoke, watching her limp away. "I'll be here waiting for you."
(Y/N) took the moment to look back at him, confused. Before she could question it, she stopped herself, deciding there was always later to talk about it. Right now Hailey needs her, Andrew can wait.
(Y/N) settled for a nod, rummaging in the hospital cabinets and grabbing a white blanket. She wrapped it around her body to hide her hospital gown; she wouldn’t want to worry Hailey. (Y/N) limped out of the room, going down the halls to the elevator.
She pressed the floor the pediatric branch was on, waiting rather impatiently for the doors to open again as she descended.
Was Hailey okay? What did he mean by she’s not in the greatest condition? Has she gained more symptoms, or weakened?
Hailey has acute lymphoblastic leukemia, also known as ALL. It’s a cancer inside the blood and bone marrow, where the infected white blood cells are rapidly multiplying, creating blocks in the blood and bones that could prevent other cells from getting through and working. The cancer comes with symptoms such as fever, frequent nose bleeds, weakness or fatigue, easy bruising, pain in the bones or stomach or groin, frequent infections, and swollen lymph nodes.
Hailey’s most prominent symptoms are her swollen lymph nodes, hence why her voice is low and raspy, along with her bone pains in her legs, which is why she’s bedridden. At least 90% of kids under 15 who have ALL survive, so long as they’re treated. Even thought Hailey has been in the hospital for three years, she’s made very little progress in recovering.
Despite there being no stages in ALL cancer, if (Y/N) had to guess, she’s assume Hailey would be in stage 3. Over the years of chemotherapy and medications, her infected white blood cells just seem to be multiplying more and more, hence why it’s called acute lymphoblastic leukemia, acute means rapid.
(Y/N)’s theory is that a doctor didn’t give a strong enough dosage to Hailey, therefore the cells grew a resistance to the medication, creating a superbug that could withstand the medicine entirely.
Even then, what matters is if Hailey is feeling alright. (Y/N) exited the elevator and limped down the hallways, making it to Hailey’s room and opening the door.
“Oh. Hello, Ms. (L/N)!” Hailey greeted brightly, her voice still hoarse and raspy, but having life to it. “What are you doing here? You said it was your day off!”
Hailey’s upper body shot up quickly as she sat up from bed, a smile on her face as she greeted (Y/N). Her eyes were bright and lively, even waving her arm at the nurse.
Oh.
“Sorry it’s so early!” (Y/N) smiled. “It’s at least 5 A.M. What are you doing up so early?”
“I couldn’t sleep, I just had such a sudden burst of energy!” Hailey spoke. “I think I’m getting better!”
(Y/N) ignored that comment, sitting down on the guest chair in Hailey’s room. Her eyes trailed to the wheelchair that sat near her IV pole, a wheelchair that’s only used for Hailey to wheel herself to the bathroom now, but even then she needs help from the nurses.
“So? How’s that book you’re reading?” (Y/N) questioned.
“I’m almost done with it. At least 30 pages away.” Hailey answered. “What are you doing here at the hospital? It’s your night off; unless you’re working overtime again?”
“Yes! I’m working overtime again.” (Y/N) lied, smiling at the girl.
It’s best not to tell her anything, not in her condition.
“Are you cold? Why are you wearing a blanket?” Hailey questioned.
“Yes, I’m cold. I’m feeling a bit chilly at the moment. It’s verging to winter and the hospital still hasn’t adjusted the thermostat yet.” (Y/N) lied once more. “Hey, remember when I said I’ll take you to the garden the next time I see you? Would you like to go right now?”
Hailey’s eyes brightened even more, her grin widening as she nodded. “Yes! I want to see the flowers!”
“Let’s get you in the wheelchair, yeah?” (Y/N) spoke, standing up from the chair and using the blanket to hide herself limping from Hailey’s sight.
Hailey used her upper arms and was able to push herself to the edge of the bed on her own, even moving her knees a bit too! (Y/N) still carefully placed one of her arms under Hailey’s knees and the other on her back, picking up Hailey and placing her in the wheelchair.
(Y/N) decided against the wheelchair restraints, not wanting Hailey to feel trapped at the moment. (Y/N) grabbed the blanket off Hailey’s bed, but Hailey spoke up.
“We can leave the blanket. I actually feel pretty warm at the moment.” Hailey spoke.
The only warmth Hailey usually had was when she had a fire spreading in her legs, the bone pains acting up and causing many sleepless nights for her. It’s why Hailey is almost always awake when (Y/N) does her rounds around the hospital at night.
“It’s cold outside. Let’s take the blanket just in case.” (Y/N) persisted, smiling as she covered Hailey’s shoulders and down with the thin white cloth.
Hailey decided not to argue against it and cooperated. (Y/N) wheeled Hailey out of the room, her pace a little slower than usually as she felt that stabbing sensation in her leg and stomach. It made her silently hitch her breath, her ears having a slight ring in them, yet she persisted.
“Gosh, I haven’t seen these halls in forever.” Hailey spoke, her eyes scanning every nook and cranny of the white hallways. “You know, I read that whenever you enter a unfamiliar area, the reason why you feel dizzy is because you have a sensory overload. Like, you’re saving mental images and color palettes and the layout of the area all in your head, that way you remember where you are the next time you go! Even though I’ve been here before, it feels like it’s my first time down these halls all over again.”
Yes, (Y/N) knows that. She was the one who gave Hailey the book she learned that from, but for Hailey’s sake (and to distract her mind from the pain), she decided to play dumb.
“Wow, really?” (Y/N) hummed, smiling. “I never knew that. It makes sense now that you’ve explained it.”
Hailey nodded, smiling. “Yeah! I remember having that dizziness when I was at my friend’s for a sleepover.” She spoke, before her smile dropped. “Though, it was before I had cancer, or at least when I wasn’t placed in the hospital… I sometimes miss having friends.”
“Why, of course you have friends.” (Y/N) spoke. “You have me! And you have Doctor Ryan, and Penelope, and Ruby, and even Andrew too.”
“Yeah, but I mean friends my age.” Hailey spoke.
Normally, that could be arranged in the hospital so long as the patients aren’t being exposed to a infectious disease or illness, especially in Hailey’s case since she’s more prone to getting infections; however, Hailey didn’t want to be friends with the other kids after her hair started falling out due to the chemotherapy. She was insecure of her appearance deteriorating, even if Penelope kept lying to her face and telling her she looked perfectly fine. Hailey preferred (Y/N) over Penelope for that reason. (Y/N) always told her the truth, or at least left it blank so there was no harsh comment.
If Penelope asked (Y/N) if she looked sickly today, (Y/N) would tell her that a bit of water and food would help bring back some color to her face. It was a good way to not only promote healthy behavior for Hailey, but also it helped build trust in (Y/N) to always telling her the truth about her health. If she asked Penelope, Penelope would’ve lied and said she looked as bright as the sun; which is kind, but she could tell Penelope was lying by how Penelope’s right eye would twitch and bite her bottom lip.
“I see… well, I’m sure we can arrange that soon, when you’re ready.” (Y/N) smiled, taking Hailey into the elevator.
(Y/N) pressed the lobby floor as Hailey spoke up.
“Are the flowers even in bloom? Since it’s verging to winter?” Hailey questioned.
“A secret between me and you; the flowers are fake.” (Y/N) whispered, acting as if there was a camera watching her or something. We have scented pads hidden in the soil to make it smell like flowers, and we wet the soil regularly to keep that earthy smell lingering.”
“Really?” Hailey gasped.
“That’s why they’re always in bloom. It’s depressing to have an empty garden, even something as small as colorful flowers give people hope.” (Y/N) explained.
While fake flowers aren’t present in most hospitals, this hospital was different. Even if they were always understaffed and overworked, they at least cared for their patients. Even if the staff excel at their work or not, at least they have work ethic.
The elevator doors opened as (Y/N) wheeled Hailey down the hallways. (Y/N) noticed the stares from guests and even some patients; whether it was because of Hailey’s bald head or (Y/N)’s limp. (Y/N) noticed Hailey’s gripping the blanket on her, seconds away from raising the blanket above her head to hide it. (Y/N) recognized Hailey’s insecurity and spoke up.
“You know, I’m thinking of starting a garden. A real garden with real flowers indoors, that way patients with allergies or conditions can see the flowers too without going outside.” (Y/N) spoke, redirecting Hailey’s attention. “I was wondering what flowers you’d like for me to add. I’ll do a survey with the other patients too, have a nice diversity of flowers. What do you think?”
“I think… it’s a nice idea.” Hailey smiled, letting go of the blanket. “I think daisies. You should do daisies.”
“That’s a nice flower. I’ll see what I can do.” (Y/N) nodded, smiling as she pushed open the glass door, rolling Hailey to the garden.
(Y/N) guided Hailey to the wooden bench, picking up Hailey and placing her down on the seat so she wouldn’t be confided to the wheelchair.
Hailey rambled on and on about anything and everything. She talked so much that (Y/N) contemplated if she should go fetch water for Hailey’s throat given how raspy it was, but she decided against it as she noticed the signs.
Hailey’s bright smile, the almost whimsical joy in her eyes; an expression that (Y/N) thought Hailey has lost over the years as she spent her birthdays in this hospital.
(Y/N) remembers bringing a cake for Hailey’s 7th birthday, the first they spent together. Even though Hailey admitted to not liking vanilla cake, she still ate it. It was the last birthday she’d spend with her parents before they threw themselves at work, leaving Hailey along in the hospital with other sick patients and the staff.
The second birthday they spent together, (Y/N) had to ditch the candles, concerned the smoke would affect Hailey’s lungs. At least the cake was homemade, even if the frosting looked a bit ugly. (Y/N) made sure it was chocolate this time, so Hailey could enjoy it.
And the third birthday they spent together, (Y/N) made an ice cream cake, chocolate of course. She figured the ice cream would soothe Hailey’s throat and Hailey could still enjoy the flavor. It took many tries, but she succeeded in making the perfect cake, gifting Hailey books for her to read too.
If (Y/N) had known it would be Hailey’s last birthday, she would’ve made sure to go all out. Buy balloons and party streamers, force her parents to come back and see her, cover her head to toe in presents.
Unfortunately, you can’t change time.
Hailey’s eyes shined as she spoke, talking about anything possible. She didn’t have many who would listen to her, her doctors and nurses were there for work, and (Y/N) couldn’t visit long since she had other patients to tend to. But now, (Y/N)’s off the clock. At the moment she’s not Hailey’s nurse, she’s Hailey’s friend.
Eventually, Hailey’s voice faltered, before she let out a hum, satisfied as she rested her head on the bench. She took a deep breath, then sighed, smiling softly.
“It really does smell like flowers. Those are some good quality scent pads.” Hailey spoke.
Fake flowers last for years; patients do not.
“Do you ever wonder what’s beyond us?” Hailey questioned after a long silence.
“What do you mean?” (Y/N) questioned, turning her head to face the girl.
“Death. Like, do you ever wonder what happens after?” Hailey added.
(Y/N) hummed, thinking as she kept her blanket wrapped around her, hiding her hospital gown just as Hailey hid from the cold.
She wasn’t sure. Many religions had their own ideals of life and death, but she doubted Hailey wanted an answer based on religion. She wasn’t sure what was beyond. After trying to kill herself, everything in her life started losing value, a spiral of nothing and everything thrown at her all at once.
Even if she stopped hurting herself physically, she couldn’t stop mentally.
“I think it changes for everyone.” (Y/N) spoke. “Like, your own paradise. You could be surrounded by anyone you want, and anything you want.”
“What would you want to be surrounded by?” Hailey questioned.
She didn’t have to think much on that matter. There wasn’t much in her life she cared about anymore. She did nothing but work nowadays. She was an empty husk that worked itself to death to pass the time, awaiting Death by the door.
If she couldn’t open the door, she’ll make Death open it.
“Beds.” (Y/N) answered.
“Really? That’s it?” Hailey questioned, surprised and perhaps kindly disappointed. “I was expecting something… more. Like, deep, or wise.”
“You can’t expect everything to make sense in life, you know.” (Y/N) chuckled. “Sometimes things just happen. I think that’s what’s so fun about life, it’s just a mystery to be solved at the end of the line through all that hard work; or, perhaps there’s no mystery. Maybe it just coexists just like we do.”
“How can your answer be so boring but your follow-up be so wise?” Hailey pouted, cause (Y/N) to chuckle.
“Hey, I never said I’d give you any special answer.” (Y/N) pointed out.
“But, really, why beds?” Hailey questioned.
“I just like sleeping.” (Y/N) smiled, giving part of the truth.
“I guess it’ll suffice.” Hailey sighed, disappointed.
“And you? What would you like to be surrounded by?” (Y/N) questioned.
“My parents.” Hailey spoke. “And my old friends. And tons of my hair, like as much hair as Rapunzel.”
“That sounds nice.” (Y/N) hummed. “Though, you’d have to brush your hair all the time. Maybe it’s not so good having hair, I can’t stand mine at times.” (Y/N) spoke, trying to gently reassure Hailey.
“Well, maybe just normal hair then. What it used to look like before.” Hailey spoke. “You’d be there too. I wouldn’t only see you when you’re working. I’d see you outside of the hospital as my friend.”
“What’s it matter where or how you meet? As long as we’re still friends, I don’t see any issue.” (Y/N) smiled.
Hailey smiled, nodding. “I like that.”
Eventually, Hailey went quiet, no longer having any words to speak. She sat on the bench, observing her surroundings in a youthful fashion. Her eyes sparkled with life, her pulse relaxing as she enjoyed the false nature around her.
“Thank you for staying with me.” Hailey spoke up, her volume decreasing, the sound of her raspy voice cracking more. “I know it’s probably hard for you to see me like this.”
“Anything for you, Hails.” (Y/N) smiled, wrapping her arm around Hailey’s shoulder and giving her a gentle side-hug.
“Thank you for not leaving me alone. It means a lot to me…” Hailey muttered, taking a few deep breaths, before eventually subduing.
(Y/N) glanced at the IV pole, looking at the fluids that gently flowed in Hailey’s veins, before she turned her attention back to Hailey.
After a few minutes, there was no movement from Hailey. No breathing. No eye movement. No leg twitching. Just nothing.
(Y/N) took a deep breath, smelling the fake flowers and wet soil, before letting out a sob she’s been holding.
Hailey had so much life, and yet she died so young. She was so lively in her final moments.
All that matters now is she’s not going to be in anymore pain and that she wasn’t scared. (Y/N) thought.
Even if kids under 15 have a 90% chance of surviving acute lymphoblastic leukemia, it doesn’t mean it’s guaranteed. Life and death is really never a guarantee though, so it’s good to enjoy it while it lasts.
If only (Y/N) could follow her own advice.
(Y/N) covered her face in her hands, crying now that Hailey was gone, so she wouldn’t see her tears. This hurt way worse than any stab she could endure.
(Y/N) almost contemplated covering Hailey’s face with the her blanket, but she decided against it. She didn’t want to be ashamed of Hailey or her presence, she didn’t want to forget Hailey or brush her aside.
(Y/N) stood up, deciding not to waste much time, and picked Hailey up, putting her in the wheelchair. She had such lifeless and glazed eyes, her mouth was slightly open and her arms flayed motionless as (Y/N) moved. She doesn’t look like the suddenly bright and cheerful Hailey from just a few minutes ago.
Terminal Lucidity. It’s an unknown phenomenon that can happen before death, giving you suddenly more strength, a clearer consciousness, and even regaining memory. It’s surprisingly common, at least 88% experiencing the symptoms before death. It can happen from minutes to hours to days before death, and it has a habit of giving false hope to the patients loved ones. While it’s quite common in dementia patients, it can also happen to those with neurological problems or in some special cases those with cancer.
In the hospital, a terminal patient suddenly acting lively and alert is usually a bad thing because it means they’re near death. It’s not quite known why, but some speculate it could be the brain’s last fight, before eventually giving in.
(Y/N) wheeled Hailey’s dead body to the hospital’s mortuary. She checked the body in, guessing the nearest time of death since she didn’t have a watch on her, and the cause of death. She wrote down the parental numbers so they could be contacted, before lumping her way back to the elevator.
The ride up was deathly silent, not that anyone was in the elevator to talk to her, but it was silent in her mind too. Usually she’d at least be thinking of things to do, but she had no thoughts in her mind.
The elevator doors opened and (Y/N) walked out. She walked back to her own hospital room, exhausted and tired. Tears threatened to escape her eyes once more, the pain of losing Hailey and the pain of her wounds piling up on her.
She opened the door, surprised to see Andrew there, sleeping in his wheelchair with his arms crossed. (Y/N) wasn’t sure whether to feel annoyed or happy. Annoyed because she wanted to cry and sleep, but also happy because it meant she wasn’t alone with her thoughts and feelings.
The door opened, jolting Andrew awake. He was probably in a light sleep, whether because he was expecting (Y/N) or because the wheelchair is uncomfortable to sleep in. Whatever the reason was, he was awake.
His eyes trailed to (Y/N), doing his best not to smile and brighten up at her presence (that would be so lame if he did that).
“Hey.” Andrew spoke.
“Hey.” (Y/N) parroted, throwing her blanket at Andrew for him to use instead as she got up in her hospital bed.
There was no point in hiding her hospital gown now that Hailey was dead, so that blanket could now be used by Andrew while she got under her own hospital bedsheets.
“You can go to your room, you know. I’m fine on my own.” (Y/N) spoke.
“So? You got stabbed.” Andrew gruffed, catching the blanket and placing it down on his lap.
“And you have two broken legs, mister. You should still be recovering after surgery.” (Y/N) scolded lightly.
Her response caused Andrew to chuckle. Even injured and off the clock, she still worried about others. Andrew wasn’t sure if it was because she was his nurse or if she was just trying to be a decent human, but he relished the attention anyways.
“Ah, c’mon. I feel fine.” He chuckled.
(Y/N) resisted the urge to kick his leg to prove him wrong, yet she decided not to be petty today. She hummed, lying down on her bed.
“Is there something you want from me? Why are you here?” (Y/N) questioned, looking at the clock.
It was 6:30 A.M. She’ll be here in the hospital until 3 P.M. She wasn’t fond of that. She needed to bury Ashley’s body and deep clean her apartment. Even though the police hopefully had no trace it was her, and hopefully they didn’t invade in her apartment and swab the place (which, they better of not considering it’d be illegal without her permission or a warrant).
Not really. Andrew thought.
He just came over as soon as he heard (Y/N) was put in the emergency unit thanks to Penelope’s big mouth. He doesn’t really know why he came here, maybe just out of curiosity to see how bad she was hurt. All humans are curious when something bad happens.
Maybe he just wanted to spend more time with her, to be happy she was here with him. It’s not like she could fight much with him, she was tired and her eyes were red.
Red eyes. Was she crying?
“I just figured I see you, since you’re here. It gives me something to do other than being stuck in that hospital bed.” Andrew spoke.
“And now you’re stuck in a hospital wheelchair.” (Y/N) chuckled.
“Forget about me. Are you okay?” Andrew questioned.
“Yeah. I told you. It doesn’t hurt much.” (Y/N) lied, ignoring the pulses inside her wounds.
“I wasn’t talking about that. I mean, are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying.” Andrew pointed out, leaning back in his chair as he looked at her.
(Y/N) paused, thinking. Would it be against hospital protocol to say a patient’s status or info to someone if they’re dead?
Well, you only live once. And Andrew doesn’t look like a snitch.
“Hailey died.” (Y/N) spoke. “And, her parents weren’t there to say goodbye. Really, never visited her much either.”
“That sucks…” Andrew muttered.
He’s not too sure if he could care or not. Yeah, it sucks a kid died, but why should he care about a kid he had no connection with? She died, might as well get over it.
“It happens more than I like around here. They pass without their family around.” (Y/N) spoke. “But, I just can’t stand when the parents aren’t there for their kids. They die scared, that’s no way to die, for a kid or adult.”
(Y/N) spoke, looking out her window as the sun started rising.
She wondered where Andrew’s parents were. Why aren’t they here to visit him? Do they not know he’s here? Or perhaps they don’t want to visit their child who’s a murderer…
“What shitty parents.” Andrew spoke with no filter.
“Yeah,” (Y/N) chuckled, “that’s what I think too.”
To really care about someone you don’t have any blood-relation to, must be a special kind of bond; it’s one you can choose, not one you’re born with, unlike the one Andrew and Ashley shares.
“So, where’s your parents?” Andrew questioned.
“I’m an adult, I don’t need them checking up on me.” (Y/N) spoke.
“Yeah, but, wouldn’t it be nice? A sense of security and all?” Andrew questioned.
“Well, where’s your parents?” (Y/N) retorted, a bit annoyed.
So what? It’s not like if she called them they’d come rushing to her. Her mother would care less seeing (Y/N) in a hospital again, and her father would probably go berserk and try to bring her back home where it was safe.
“Touché.” Andrew chuckled. “But I have my sister to visit me.”
(Y/N) mentally grimaced at that, doing her best to not make a face so Andrew wouldn’t question it.
Not anymore… she thought.
Her hands suddenly felt dirty again. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she hid them in the hospital blanket. Once again, Andrew was intrigued with her hands after seeing her hide them. It’s like everything she hides them, he immediately gets curious and wants to see them.
He knows of the obvious self-harm scars now, he saw those when she was sleeping. And he saw the small scars and burns from everyday life, but why care so much about them?
Maybe it’s just something you have to go through in order to understand. You can’t understand everything on the first try, especially if you have no experience in it.
Sure, he was admitted for jumping a rooftop, but that’s a bit different than self-harming. Jumping a rooftop is one clear goal; suicide. It has subcategories such as wanting to escape life, or having too many problems to run away from.
Self-harming, on the other hand, is more complex. The desire to harm yourself is there, but you don’t want to die immediately. It’s a slow steady process building up. You hurt yourself possibly because you feel ashamed, that you feel like you deserve to hurt because that’s all you’re worth. Or perhaps it’s to relieve stress or pain. There’s not always such a strong intent to die when you hurt yourself? sometimes pain is the only thing people know that they use to feel normal or detached. Perhaps they even get pressured into hurting themselves. Self-harming isn’t to die, it’s to make yourself suffer because you feel that that’s what you need.
The question is: what is her reasoning?
The question left him wondering, he was almost compelled to answer, but she didn’t look to be in a good mood, so he decided against it.
(Y/N)’s eyes trailed to the digital recorder on her bedside. Doctor Ryan had left it on her bedside earlier, but he didn’t explain what was on it. She reached over and grabbed it, studying it.
It was a shiny silver recorder, with a slot for polaroid photos to slip out of. (Y/N) turned on the camera, pressing a button to the camera roll. The camera roll opened, multiple short videos at least 10 or 20 seconds showing.
She clicked on one and turned it on, seeing a video of one of her patients. They had black hair and black eyes, sitting in their hospital bed with an IV needle in her arm and bandages around her head. She recently had surgery for a tumor in her brain, now resting in bed.
“Hi, Ms. (L/N)! I heard you were doing unwell and I wanted to say please get better and visit me when you’re healthy!” the patient smiled.
(Y/N) chuckled, a smile plastered on her face as she looked at the footage. Andrew wheeled his way over to her side, curious to what she was smiling at. He rested his arm on the bedside, leaning over and looking at the footage.
(Y/N) moved the camera in the center of them so they both could see. She clicked the next video, pressing play.
A boy with brown hair looked at the camera, confused. “What do I say?”
“Say get better.” Doctor Ryan whispered from behind the camera.
“Get better.” The boy spoke.
“Now add more to it, say nice things.” Doctor Ryan whispered, resisting the urge to chuckle.
“Nice things.” The kid spoke.
“No. What do you like about Nurse (L/N).” Doctor Ryan spoke, now using his normal volume instead of whispering.
“I like that she’s nice.” The kid smiled.
“Now say it to the camera.” Doctor Ryan pushed.
“I like that you’re nice, camera.” The boy smiled, one of his front teeth were missing, only adding to the cuteness.
“Ah, close enough.” Doctor Ryan chuckled, ending the video.
(Y/N) giggled at the video while Andrew remained unfazed. She clicked the next video, pressing play. There was a girl inside Doctor Ryan’s office, there for an appointment. She was a frequent regular for common colds, so (Y/N) recognized her instantly.
“Hi, Ms. (L/N)! Please get better soon, Doctor Ryan’s handwriting is too messy! I like yours better!” she smiled.
“Hey! It’s not messy, you just can’t read the prescriptions because it’s long words!” Doctor Ryan laughed.
“Still bad.” The kid smiled.
“Oh whatever.” Doctor Ryan chuckled from behind the camera, ending the video.
The kid was right, Doctor Ryan’s handwriting was bad. The kid would try to read the prescriptions on the paper but couldn’t read the big messy words, so (Y/N) would just simply write “cold medicine” so the girl could read it.
(Y/N) smiled, going through more and more videos as she chuckled and grinned at the kids, their thoughts and feelings, and seeing their current statuses.
She eventually got to the last video, the caption above saying it was recorded just eight hours ago, when (Y/N) was still sleeping in the hospital after surgery.
“Hi, Ms. (L/N)!” the patient with blonde hair smiled, revealing to be Hailey, lively and well.
“I heard you’re unwell and I hope you get better really soon! I can’t wait to see you again and to read the books you lend me. Please get well soon, I miss you already!” Hailey smiled.
“Wow, she looked to be getting better.” Andrew commented, pointing at the screen. “I wonder what happened…”
Even though Hailey was lively and well, anybody with medical knowledge would know that she was doing bad.
“Terminal lucidity.” (Y/N) answered. “Sometimes before you die, your brain acts out on a last defense. You gain more energy and strength; but it’s fruitless.” She explained.
“Oh… that blows…” Andrew muttered.
No wonder she seemed much more vocal and confident today than she did yesterday. He wondered if he died, would he act like that too before kicking the bucket? That must hurt for the loved ones who don’t understand.
“It does…” (Y/N) sighed, her mind going blank as she stared out in the distance.
When things become too much, it’s better not to think and just go on auto-pilot. It’s how (Y/N) went through her life when things became too much.
It’s unhealthy, she knows that, but it helps her cope with reality.
She turned off the camera screen, burning a hole into her lap as she looked at the black screen. She spaced out, going motionless.
Andrew noticed, unsure whether to speak up or not. She was obviously feeling distraught and he wasn’t sure if she should be wallowing in her feelings or not.
Auto-pilot took over and decided it wanted her to cry. Tears started pouring down her face before she knew it, only causing Andrew to shift uncomfortably in his chair. He sighed, grabbing her hand and holding it.
“Hey… it’s okay.” Andrew spoke awkwardly.
“No, it’s not.” She spoke, her voice cracking. “All these kids, they shouldn’t have to go through this so young. They shouldn't be in pain or dying.”
It’s admirable, her care for others. It must take a good heart to do that, always worrying about others instead of herself. Andrew wondered if he was like that before all this happened. Was he a good person before he jumped and lost most of his memory?
No, probably not. This is reality, not a dream. He doubts that he was a good person, judging by the way he acted with Ashley the past three months he could remember. His parents ignored his calls, his girlfriend broke up with him on the phone, and he killed multiple people and even ate his neighbor!
Yeah, definitely not a good person.
“There, there…” Andrew muttered awkwardly, squeezing her hand hesitantly. “Sometimes things just happen?”
“But they shouldn’t happen to kids. They’ve been brought in this world just to get taken out when life has barely even started for them. These poor kids.” She cried, squeezing Andrew’s hand tightly for comfort. “They shouldn’t be wanted to die so early on. They should be enjoying life, not wondering when it’ll end.”
Normally, she’d just hide her feelings or bottle it up until she got home, but she can’t even go home and cry because she has a body to bury and a apartment to clean.
Life just keeps piling up on her more and more. It feels like a never ending cycle of pain. The only time she even feels happy now in reality, without sleeping, is seeing kids happy and smiling. How can she be happy if they keep dying? How can she be happy if these kids keep getting their happiness robbed?
Andrew contemplated what he should do. Should he let her vent? Should he try and comfort her more? Should he offer her to shut up and shove advice down her throat?
He decided it was probably best to just comfort her, he’d rather not see her cry. She can be emotional outside of his vision. As much as he likes this nurse, he hates sensitive people; maybe he just doesn’t like seeing someone he favors crying.
Andrew sighed, reaching over and placing both his hands on her face, wiping the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs.
“Hey, don’t cry.” He spoke. “It doesn’t look good on you, you know?”
(Y/N) sniffled as she tried to speak. The muscles in her throat felt restricting, preventing her from putting them to use, so she only just shook her head.
“That video showed Hailey saying that she wanted you to get better, right?” Andrew pointed out, wiping the tears into her skin.
(Y/N) nodded, unsure of where he was trying to go with this.
“So, she knew you weren’t feeling good, even when she wasn't doing good herself She cares about your health. Do you think crying would make her happy?” Andrew questioned. “I think it would just worry her about you. You wouldn’t want her to worry about you, would you?”
(Y/N) shook her head, her shoulders shaking from her sobs.
"You were there for her when no one else was? Isn't that all that matters in a kid's final moments?" Andrew questioned.
Andrew's right, at least they didn't die alone. Dying alone must be one of the worst ways to die, alone to succumb to your own thoughts and regrets of what could've happen and what did. It must be worse slowly deteriorating over time, at least dying quick you wouldn't be alone with your thoughts, but dying alone just leaves your thoughts, which slowly fade over time the more and more you stop living and just start existing, before even you lose that too.
Yeah, being alone sucks, (Y/N) can vouch for that. Coming home to an empty house with nobody to greet you, eating meals alone, waking up alone and going to sleep alone, shopping alone. It's kind of like dying alone in one way. You're just waiting for that time to come when eventually you stop doing those other things, so you just go on autopilot and wait. Of course, she could easily change all that by dating someone or getting a pet for at home, but it's just so exhausting trying to find a good person to spend the rest of your life with.
There's a reason so many people are single in the dating pool. Besides, she doubts anyone would want to date her with her work schedule; she sleeps in the day and either works at night or stays up at night on her days off. Let's not forget how she's constantly tired and depressed, dating someone like her would be such a buzzkill, you'd have to be desperate; at least that's what her mother said to her last time they met up for dinner.
(Y/N)’s tears stopped, realizing Andrew was right. Hailey wouldn’t want her crying, and if (Y/N) died, she wouldn’t want to be sad either.
(Y/N)’s sadness was soon replaced with embarrassment once she realized she was crying. Crying in front of a man and have the audacity to rely on him for her own emotions. It only makes it worse that he was her patient. This must be wrong in some way to be touching her patient like this, considering Andrew isn’t in any need of reassurance she should be providing as his nurse.
She pushed him away rather quickly, wiping her own tears out of her eyes instead of him doing it for her. Andrew looked confused, mentally wondering if he did something wrong.
Why the sudden change?
(Y/N) adverted her eyes from his face, feeling childish and insecure for crying in front of someone. Even if he was pretty handsome to her, she’d rather not see the pity, or any other sort of expression on his face.
Andrew felt a bit annoyed at the sudden change. He was just holding her and comforting her. She was even leaning against him and crying into his chest! Why did she suddenly push him away? Why did she suddenly not want him anymore?
His eye unconsciously twitched, showing his mild annoyance as a tinge of insecurity washed over him. Before he could question the sudden change of heart, the door opened, Penelope walking into the room.
Penelope’s face brightened once she saw (Y/N), before it dropped noticing Andrew. Penelope suddenly became skittish, playing with her fingers as she avoided Andrew’s gaze (glare).
“Um… Mr. Graves, you’re not supposed to be here at night. It’s protocol for patients to be in their rooms in the night.” Penelope muttered, her green eyes staring down at the white tiles. “Should I escort you back to your room?”
“No.” He spoke quickly, wanting nothing to do with Penelope.
Andrew looked back at (Y/N), his gaze softening just a bit as he looked a bit concerned for her. He didn’t want to leave her. What if she needed help with something? What if she cried some more? What if she needed him?
Andrew mentally groaned, conflicted with his emotions. He unlocked his wheelchair and wheeled to the door, Penelope stepping to the side so he could pass by her.
“You can come back during visiting hours.” Penelope added quietly, resulting in a harsh glare from Andrew.
If only looks could kill.
Penelope watched as Andrew left the room, before she closed the door behind her for privacy.
“Gosh, he’s just so intimidating…” Penelope groaned, taking a seat in the room’s guest chair.
“He’s not so bad…” (Y/N) hummed, smiling.
(Y/N)’s not too sure why Penelope’s afraid of Andrew. Sure, he’s a man, but he’s not really intimidating. Perhaps she’s grown desensitized to him and his menacing aura.
Or you know, perhaps she just likes red flags. A killer cannibal certainly is a red flag, but that’s just a theory.
Besides, what’s he gonna do with two broken legs? Punch her? Penelope just has to climb up on the hospital bed or take the stairs.
Penelope took in (Y/N)’s appearance, a frown making way on her face.
"Oh, you poor thing!" she spoke, the words sounding degrading enough, especially after (Y/N) was just crying a few minutes ago. "Who could do such a thing to you?"
"Who knows..." (Y/N) muttered, ignoring the sudden shock of anger shooting through her.
She looked at Andrew. Why did Penelope look at Andrew? Yeah, she was searching for him to bring him back to his room, but did she have to advert her eyes and mutter like a damn school girl?
The sudden jealousy pissed (Y/N) off, why was she acting like this? Why did she care? What does Penelope even want?
"Did you need something?" (Y/N) questioned, not doing too well to hide her annoyance.
Luckily, Penelope was a bit oblivious, yet still seemed a bit on edge.
"Oh, sorry... Well, before I speak, how do you feel? Do you need anything? Food or water? Painkillers?" Penelope questioned.
"I'm doing fine..." (Y/N) spoke, gritting her teeth as she smiled.
"Good. Well, did you hear the news about that patient? Andrew Graves?" Penelope questioned.
"What about him?" (Y/N) questioned, glancing at Penelope suspiciously as another volt of jealousy shot through her.
"Well, I did some digging online, and I found out he's wanted!" Penelope spoke, her voice a bit too loud for her liking.
"So?" (Y/N) questioned, already knowing this information, before she quickly switched up her attitude, realizing that wasn't an appropriate social response. "Wait, what? Wanted? Like, by the police?"
"Yes!" Penelope nodded, leaning closer to (Y/N) in her chair as she spoke. "Wanted for murder! They said he killed four people at their old apartment. Him and his sister, Ashley. They even said one of the bodies had meat cut off it and it was cut up in pieces! They found DNA and blood in their kitchen, on the counter and pots and silverware!"
Well, the police only has to worry about one sibling now... (Y/N) thought to herself.
(Y/N) stayed silent, unsure of what a functioning human would respond to this. Honestly, she's grown quite comfortable with the fact Andrew is a killer and a cannibal.
"I mean, that's just... vile! And disgusting! How could someone do that?" Penelope questioned, her face turning as green as her eyes.
"Why did they do it?" (Y/N) questioned.
"H-huh?" Penelope questioned, surprised. "What do you mean? They kill four people and ate one! They must be insane or something."
"Let's not jump to conclusions. We don't know why they did it." (Y/N) spoke. "Penelope, we should know better than anyone else that people act out for reasons. We're nurses, we deal with mental breakdowns and patients lashing out all the time, and we know they have motives behind it."
"Yeah, but that's a medical setting, when something's generally wrong with them! Andrew seems stable enough!" Penelope spoke. "He must've knew what he was doing!"
"Peer pressure?" (Y/N) suggested. "Perhaps his act is a facade? We don't know a person's thoughts or feelings. For all we knew, they could've been in a dire situation. I mean, who just randomly kills four people in one day and run? Something must've happened."
Penelope looked frustrated, her bottom lip pouting as she clenched her fists. "And? So? Why should we care?! He killed four people, you know! We need to call the police!"
"No! You can't!" (Y/N) quickly shot up from the bed, flinching as she felt a stabbing pain in her stomach where her wound was.
"What? Why not?" Penelope questioned, surprised at the sudden outburst as she leaned back in her chair. "Why are you defending him? We're nurses! We need to help protect people. He could hurt someone else here!"
"No! You can't take him!" (Y/N) shouted, throwing the bedsheets off her and rushing to Penelope, ignoring the pain shooting throughout her body as she placed both of her hands on the arm chairs, caging Penelope in. "You can't do that! I won't let you."
"W-what? W-why are you acting like this?" Penelope squeaked, her hands pressing together as she curled herself up in a ball, sinking herself down in her chair as she stared up at (Y/N), frightened.
(Y/N) paused, realizing the sudden position she put herself in. Damn it! Why did she just lash out like that? She's never like this! Why can't she just let Andrew go? She needed to think of something quick to diffuse this situation and convince Penelope not to report Andrew.
"Don't you understand? The police are just going to keep him here until he heals up to where he can go to jail. If you report him now and he's aware of that, he might snap and actually hurt people." (Y/N) spoke, trying to come up with a false reason. "You'll just enrage him and give him a motive to hurt others. He hasn't injured anyone severely these past days, only a few books and hits thrown because he was afraid of us recognizing him and calling the police."
Penelope looked uncertain, contemplating whether she should listen to the younger and injured nurse in front of her.
"B-but—" Penelope started, but was cut off by (Y/N).
"Penelope, please. Don't be an idiot. Don't do something so unfathomably stupid!" (Y/N) pleaded.
Just make the idea look stupid. Just act like Penelope's the one being insensible.
"He could really hurt someone if the police come and tell him he's arrested. They're just going to explain that he's under arrest, and will be escorted to prison once the doctors deem him healthy enough to go. He'll just be here, drugged up from his surgeries, and that could cause him to not think sensibly, it'll make him more of a hazard to others. We can't afford that, Penelope." (Y/N) explained.
Penelope adverted her eyes, (Y/N)'s words seeming to sink into her as she started to appear ashamed of what she was previously proposing.
"So... what now?" Penelope questioned. "He's not going to be able to stay here long anyways. We have no emergency contacts to contact for him. He has no records inside our hospital. He can't even fill out any of our forms or such because of his amnesia, either that or he's pretending to not to know the information." Penelope explained. "He doesn't have health insurance or can't remember it, and I doubt he can afford the hospital bills if he can't even remember anything! He probably doesn't even know his banking information if he has it!"
“If we tell him that, it’ll be bothersome…” (Y/N) explained. “I mean… he could get mad and hurt someone.”
“Exactly!” Penelope exclaimed. “I-I don’t know what to do! Should we bring this up to HR or the head nurse?”
“No.” (Y/N) spoke quickly. “I-I mean, c’mon? It’s hard to trust these so-called professionals. The hospital is notorious for its accidents and fatalities. I mean, we're all working here because we were rejected by other hospitals because of our questionable backgrounds and court filings! For gods sake, there’s an advisement a town from here that has a doctor suggesting anesthesia for depression and it has our hospital name on it! We can't trust the board for anything!"
“But… what can we do?” Penelope questioned, feeling hopeless.
“We’re the smartest nurses in this whole shithole,” (Y/N) spoke.
Maybe it was an exaggeration, but she needed Penelope to believe her, or at least stop her from reporting Andrew so that he could escape.
Why does she care so much about a wrongdoer? He should be in prison, he should pay for what he’s done, but for some reason there’s a stabbing sensation in her chest at just the thought of not seeing him again. The feeling was almost as painful as the bleeding wound she currently had.
She needed new bandages, she’s been putting too much stress her body. She would ask Penelope, but she’d rather not stick around with Penelope any longer. Sure, having Penelope around would make it so she’s less likely to snitch, but there’s also the possibility that she could potentially catch (Y/N)’s unnatural behavior and go back on her words.
"I-I just... what if we're making the wrong choice? I can't stand the thought that someone can get hurt." Penelope spoke.
(Y/N) almost felt sorry for the young nurse. The nurse was only three years older than her, yet she seems utterly more helpless in life than (Y/N). Penelope has a bad luck streak with everything. She's terrible at math and doing her taxes. She's terrible at thinking for herself. She's grown up from foster home to foster home. Every relationship she's been in has been disastrous.
(Y/N) would care if Penelope didn’t have such an unhealthy obsession about finding love. The whole reason she became a nurse was to try and nurse someone to health so they’d love her; it’s almost sad, really.
“I just can’t believe it…” Penelope groaned, burying her face into her hands. “Why are the cute guys always so unstable?”
Nevermind. (Y/N) doesn’t feel sad for her at all. Absolutely no pity. Void of emotion. She was almost considering the idea of murdering Penelope. Seriously, you're caring about how cute a guy is despite him being a major threat to your life? Should you really be focusing on a cannibal's looks.
(Y/N) decided to bite her tongue. There was no reason to start a fight (that, and maybe she's just a bit guilty of this as well...) It still didn't stop the bubbling pot boiled inside her stomach and chest as she glared at Penelope though.
“Penelope, can you go find my nurse? I need a new change of bandages.” (Y/N) grumbled, desperate for Penelope to leave her as she sat back down on her bed, wincing as she overstrained herself once more.
Maybe cornering and intimidating a person while injured isn’t the best course of action.
“O-oh, right! Sure!” Penelope spoke, popping up from her makeshift ball as she stood up from her chair. “Whats your nurse’s name? I’ll go find them.”
“I don’t know their name. I didn’t met them, only my doctor.” (Y/N) explained.
“Oh, okay then. Well, I’ll ask around and see if I can find them.” Penelope spoke, walking to the door. “Door open or closed?”
“Close it.” (Y/N) answered.
Penelope nodding, closing the door and leaving (Y/N) to her own devices. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief that Penelope was gone; however, there were other things to worry about.
She needed to figure out a way to solve the Andrew situation. She could talk to Andrew herself and see if he has any insurance. She might be able to judge if he’s lying or not about knowing anything, if Andrew’s a good liar or not, that is.
She almost felt compelled to leave her room and go to Andrew’s. She could tell him what happens; no health insurance means paying the full entirety of the bills, which could be five digits to possibly even six after all his car, special requests/needs, surgeries, and days he’s spent admitted.
It’s fine… she just needs to sleep. She can deal with it another day. If she sleeps now, time will pass quicker and she can get discharged.
She closed her eyes, seeing nothing but darkness as she used her drawback to escapism once more, distancing herself from reality as she did her best not to think about her patient.
And chapter 5 is done! I do apologize for it being so long, I wasn't planning on it being so long but I guess I did get a bit carried away... Chapter 6 will have quite a bit of drama and new characters being introduced! Now I just have to get chapter 6 done... which I'm unsure of when will be done, but it's in the works already! Thank you for your patience and for reading, and I'm excited for you all to see the development of (Y/N) and Andrew!
Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!
Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for request!
Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, current chapter, chapter 6 (in the works)
#stellar constellations#andrew graves x reader#andrew tcoaal#andrew graves#tcoaal#andy graves x reader#andy graves#andy and leyley#the coffin of andy and leyley#tcoaal andrew#female yandere#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere x yandere#yandere#yandere x willing reader#yandere girl#x female y/n#x fem!reader#fem reader#x yn#x female reader
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Can you write about either nick with his bfs younger sibling or the other way around and it’s super fluffy, and they just look at each other like aghhh! Idk if that makes sense
Sisters’ best friend.
Summary: in which Nick has a little crush on you and you have a little crush on him but both of you are unaware of it.
Note: Nick is mentioned to be taller.
“Why did you buy all of this?” I ask my sister while looking at the chocolates, drinks and chips on the kitchen counter. “Are you having friends over?”
“Yeah, I’m having a sleepover with some friend. I told mom to tell you.” She talks while texting someone on her phone.
“Oh, cool. She didn’t told me anything, who’s coming anyway?” I look at her, I don’t raise my head, just my eyes. She looks up from her phone.
“The people that always comes, you can have all the snacks you want, just don’t bother us a lot.” I pout and nod.
“Understood.” I grab a small pack of gummies and go to my room. It has been a while, it’s night already, I hear people talking and laughing on the living room, my sister has a lot of ‘girlfriends’, of course she also has a lot of guy friends but they don’t come to the sleepovers… except for one, Nick. Nicolas is fun, I like him, he is very kind to me and I really like his style. I hear his laugh, it’s loud and it makes my cheeks grow red, I’m so dumb but I can’t help it, he’s just so handsome and has pretty eyes, he also brings snacks for me sometimes so I kinda like him. The fact that I know he is gay doesn’t help, because I think I might have a tiny chance with him.
I sit on my bed scrolling on my phone and panic texting my friends that Nick is here and that I might die if I see him. So, I wait for the noise to come down, I hear them go into my sisters’ room at around 12:40, I go out to see if they left any snacks and to grab some water. As I walk past my sisters’ room, I can hear the muffled music and their gossiping, I roll my eyes and keep walking to the kitchen, it was dark and a bit cold. I turn on the lights and go to the fridge, I smile when I see my favorite chocolate right in front of me, I take it out and turn around smiling at myself.
“I see you found my gift.” Nick is standing in the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, his hair a bit messy and with his pajamas on. I gulp and my cheeks blush a bit.
“I didn’t knew you bought it, thank you.”
“It’s nothing.” He says and walks over to me. “So, how have you been?” he leans on the counter and watches as I fill my bottle with water.
“I’m fine, hm, how about you?”
“I have been good, thanks for asking. Why weren’t you with us while watching the movie?” I turn around and put my filled bottle water on the counter right besides the chocolate.
“Well, I, I don’t know. I didn’t feel like it.” He hums, and I look away from him. Suddenly I feel small, his taller body making me feel tiny, his crossed arms showing off his big arms and broad shoulders. I try not to stare too much, key word = TRY.
“Interesting, you used to love watching movies with us. You love horror movies, don’t you?” I nod. “Well, at least you love curling up to me.” he grins and my eyes widen a bit.
“No, I-“ he talks over me.
“It’s okay, I like it.”
“Oh… cool. I don’t know what to say.” Nick unfolds his arms and walks slowly to me; I start taking tiny steps backwards until my lower back hits the counter. “Nick.”
“Yeah?”
“What are you doing?” he leans down a bit, one of his hands besides my body to cage me in, his other hand on my cheek.
“Nothing, just looking at you.” The tip of his nose lightly touches mine. “I really like your shirt, is it the one I gave you and your birthday?” he laughs a bit and I feel my cheeks burn.
“Nick, what if someone comes looking for you?” my chest feels heavy, my heart is beating fast.
“Let them.” he leans in, his soft lips touch mine for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, was that all right?”
My brain exploded, I can’t imagine how red I am right now, I nod quickly and put both of my hands on his chest. “Yes. I- Can you… please, kiss me again.’’ I see him grin, he kisses me again, this time it was longer, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and play with his hair, the hand that was previously on the counter goes to my waist. His lips move slowly and gracefully, it would be a lie if I said I know how to kiss, I am trying my best. I lean back a bit, looking up at his eyes.
“I wanted to tell you something.” He whispers. “I-“
“NICK!! COME HERE, CARLIE IS GOING TO CALL JAMES!!” Nick rolls his eyes when we hear the loud voice of my sister come down the hall.
“I’m sorry, I have to go. But, how about we go out tomorrow? Just the two of us.’’
“Like, a date?” it’s the first time I see him blush. He looks so handsome with his cheeks turning pink.
“Yeah, like a date. Sorry I have to go, I’ll text you” He gives me a quick kiss and fast walks to my sisters room, when I hear the door close, I let out a high-pitched scream and cover my face. God, what the fuck just happened? I think I’m dreaming.
Taglist: @freshloveforthefit @shywolfapricotfan @sturnphilia @matty-bear @thenickgirl @stvrniolvsp @paige05 @soursturniolo @miloisdone1 @teenagetrash00 @lovely-calypso @h3arts4harry @malirosee
#nick sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo x you#nick sturniolo x male reader#sturniolo triplets x reader
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Hi again! I would love if you could write possesive or jealous Rosie. Whichever you prefer and feel works best. Thank you in advance!
A/N: I love our prim and proper Overlord of Cannibal Town! Hope you enjoy! ❤️
Jealous/Possessive Rosie with GN!Reader
Rosie in general is very good at maintaining her composure. After all she barely even flinched when the angel's head was taken out and thrown on the table during the Overlords meeting.
It takes a lot to get her to break that composure. Normally, anyway.
But it is possible, and it's certainly much easier when it comes to you.
There are the small times it slips through, such as when someone happened to be hitting on you while waiting for her.
She'll cheerfully call your name, even using pet names such as dear or darling while she wraps her arm around yours, very clearly trying to send a message.
To anyone else if would just seem like a show of affection. But you knew Rosie enough to know this was her way of marking her territory in a way the doesn't appear to break her composure to the general public.
But you keep that secret of hers.
One of many reasons she loves you.
Now if someone has the audacity to hit on you even after you said no, or worse, in her territory....that composure breaks just a little more obviously to the naked eye.
"Oh darlin' you're gonna have to try this newest batch of lady fingers! I think I really outdid myself this time!" Rosie's voice is all cheer and smiles as she brings out the newest thing she's made.
You of course, trust her cooking implicitly and graciously take one before taking a bite.
"Woah! It's good. Has a kick to it, but good." You nod, looking it over as if trying to figure out what the flavor was.
"Oh excellent! I wanted to surprise Al since he's finally back in town so I've been messing around with some Cajun flavors! I think I really got it on this one!" She's got such a chipper edge to her voice because she's happy she succeeded, and you can't help but smile. Rosie was always so sweet, sometimes she felt like a beacon of light in hell just for you, and from the way her citizens talked about her, you would say they agree too.
"Oh he's gonna love it, I'm sure." You smile, leaning over to kiss her cheek, which just further keeps her energy up.
"I'm gonna go ahead and bring them out so I can put them on display and start selling 'em." Rosie smiles, giddy as she leans over and presses her lips to yours in a chaste and sweet kiss.
When she comes back though you seem visibly distressed, another person's hands even on you. She quickly puts down what item was in her hand and makes a beeline to the two of you. She is still smiling but there's a heat to her eyes that is dangerous, and a slight venom in her words.
"May I ask what you're doing?" She cocks her head to the side politely, giving them a chance to apologize and learn some manners.
"Just trying to convince a sweet thing to take a chance on me."
Ah. Well. She tried.
"I think you should leave." Rosie says coldly, although she is still smiling politely.
"What? No. I'm sure I can convince them."
You are clearly not anywhere close to considering going anywhere with this person. At the person's statement Rosie just laughs, placing a hand over her chest as if she had just heard the funniest joke.
"I was not asking, dear."
The man stills a moment from how ice cold her voice is now, and he looks at her as if trying to size her up. But before he can decide what to do she's speaking again.
"If you would like to continue to overstay your welcome, I should have you know that as their Overlord, I take care of all of my souls here in Cannibal Town very diligently...and I've never been one to let them...go hungry." Her smile is still there, polite, as if she were simply asking him if he needed help with anything today. Her threat is indirect but the message is received loud and clear and they let you go, quickly making their way out.
Once they're gone Rosie relaxes, shoulders no longer tense. She turns to you, peppering your face with kisses a moment, to which you just laugh in delighted joy.
"I'm sorry I didn't realize earlier they were harassing you."
But you quickly comfort her and tell her she came just in time. She looks worried for a split second, as if trying to figure out if you're actually okay, when you speak up.
"Why don't we go visit the hotel? Deliver these special lady fingers to Alastor personally?" You suggest, knowing Alastor's company was always a good mood boost for Rosie, and her helpful nature meant she would enjoy giving a gift to someone she cares about. So she smiles and nods, worry leaving her face as she relaxes a little more.
"Yes, I think you're right. That sounds just lovely." She agrees, holding her arm out for you to hold onto so you can both start the walk there.
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Blow my Mind
''Yeah but it'll go away.'' he pulled out of me. I used my powers to make him sit back down. ''What if i want more?'' He licked his lips and smirked as i sat down on his dick. He went slower this time and focused more on my boobs. He sucked one of them and played with the other with his hand. I moaned loudly when he bit on my neck. My breasts were full of marks but neither of us cared. ''James i'm-'' i came before i could finish my sentence and he came in me again. He pulled out and cleaned the mixture of our juices in my pussy.
''What a way to start the day.'' i chuckled.
''I brought you pancakes by the way.'' he smiled.
''If you wouldn't mind carrying me to kitchen i would love to eat them.'' i responded.
*in the kitchen*
Bruce and Natasha were making out on the counter and i fake coughed.
''Finally, they're kissing.'' James laughed as they came back and we sat to have breakfast.
''You guys seemed like you were having fun in there.'' Natasha whispered and i giggled.
''I could say the same thing about you.''
''Hey.'' Natasha greeted me. I smiled and opened the fridge.
''There isn't any milk left if that's what you're looking for.'' she told me. ''It doesn't matter, she likes her coffee without milk anyways.'' i told her. ''Is she still sleeping?''
''Yeah, i wanted to surprise her.''
''Same here.'' she smiled. We didn't usually talk that much with Natasha but i liked her. She was kind and sweet. She had the powers to shapeshift and create illusions but she usually didn't use them. She also could fly the jet better than us so she generally helped us with that.
''I made a lot so you don't have to make something again. I'll tell her you
made them if she asks.''
''Thanks.'' i smiled at her and I pulled 2 plates out of the cabinet. I handed one of them to Natasha and she put the pancakes on it. We exchanged plates and i put honey on it until she prepared the other plate.
''There are some strawberries and i can't eat them since i'm allergic to them but you can put a few on top of it.'' she offered. ''Thanks, again.'' i smiled and put a few strawberries on the pancakes. I told Natasha see you and went back to my room. y/n was sleeping so peacefully i didn't want to wake her up but then, i had an idea that i thought she would like.
I put the plate on the desk and went back to bed. I quietly pulled the blanket away from her body. She was sleeping just in a sports bra and her panties which made it easier for me. I pulled her panties down carefully not to wake her up. I sat on the corner of the bed and started eating her out.
''Fuck James..'' y/n groaned. ''Good morning to you too.'' i smirked into her heat. She moaned loudly when i sucked her clit. She gripped my hair and lifted her body up a bit to give me better access. ''How did you sleep?'' i asked her as i started stroking myself. ''It was good but you-fuck..'' she couldn't finish her sentence when i got up and softly bit her nipple through her bra. She pulled me up to kiss her.
your pov
I had just woke up to my boyfriend eating me out and he was using all the tongue tricks in the book. I gripped his hair and lifted my ass up a little bit more. He asked me how i slept but i couldn't finish my sentence when he bit my nipple.
I pulled him up and kissed him harshly. When he stopped for air i started kissing down his neck. He moaned when i pulled his boxers down and licked the tip of his dick. I slowly stroked him and eventually i took him fully in my mouth. As he fucked my throat for a while, he played with my hair. I got up and took my bra off.
He immediately started licking my nipples because it was my favorite. While he was playing with my nipples i lined myself up with his dick and sat down onto it. He moaned loudly and i started bouncing up and down. At first he was slow and he allowed me adjust to his size but he kept going faster and faster until i came all over his cock. He came inside me right after but i was on the pill so it was okay. He pulled my head up and kissed me.
''You're still hard.'' i told him.
Eleanor do not copy, edit, or translate my works.
#Eleanor's Marvel Smuts#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#buck x bucky#bucky x you#the winter soldier#winter soldier#steve rogers#captain america#anthony mackie#the falcon#falcon and the winter soldier#sebastian stan#x reader#reader insert#fem reader#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#avengers#mcu#the avengers#marvel mcu#female reader#smut#marvel smut
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Sinner Adam X Pastry Chef, Seraphim Male Reader.
Ok so Adam after the events of season one becomes a sinner.
But his boyfriend who sneaks out of heaven to find him and he does just that. And thankfully he did find him before he did something stupid.
Like going to the hotel he just attacked for protection from everyone who wants him dead. Who's inhabitants also want him dead.
But Reader knows he can't bring Adam up to heaven cause that goes against the rules. So he does the next best thing!
He opens a bakery in hell! Which doubles as a house. Don't question it, it's heavenly magic bullshit.
So now Him and Adam run a bakery with the help of Lute and a couple of exorcists who drop by from time to time.
Ohhhh I fucking love that, them just owning a little bakery in hell that's heaven themed and gives the vibes and is all beautiful. Also reader throwing away everything just to be with Adam? Me. I'd do that.
I'll meet you in hell
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, mentions & symptoms of depression
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
“We have to send our people down there and look for him,” you explained, hoping the other angels in the court would agree. Panic has flooded your eyes and your body language was a little too over the top because of that. Adam was down there, the projection of hell's current state had shown it, the first man was wandering through hell's streets, he was badly injured and had no shelter.
“No, we won't put our people at risk for a sinner,” Sera spoke highly, her chin tilted upwards so that she had to look down on you. “A sinner?” you asked, horrified by her choice of words - it's not that she wasn't wrong, Adam was walking through hell as a newborn sinner, “He’s still our first man!” But your statement was only met by shaking heads and mumbling that sounded a little too close to disagreement. With pleading eyes you looked up to Sera, Emily by her side. The little seraphim was talking to her sister quietly, so quiet that it was inaudible for you and the other angels in court.
“We have come to the decision,” Sera adjusted her posture as she turned towards you, “We can't risk the well-being of our people and therefore the well-being of heaven for the first man. He is not important enough to take that risk.” The panic that had been filling your eyes was replaced by pain and betrayal. The other seraphims had betrayed you, or at least it felt that way to you. With a lowered head you were about to get up and leave the courtroom, the verdict had been spoken and you had nothing to say that would change their mind. Discussing something like this with them was pointless, you should've known, saved time and went down without their knowledge of your location. You had to go down to hell and protect Adam - it wasn't as if the former angel was not able to stand up for himself - he every much was able to do so, you knew that better than anyone - but he was wounded and had no place to stay at, no one to turn to and the fact that probably every single resident of the pride ring wanted him dead was not helping either.
So you nodded your head towards your brothers and sisters, then turned to Lute - Lute who had been the only one to stay by your side. “We’re done here,” you stated as you watched the lieutenant lower her head as she followed you out of the courtroom. “Sir, excuse my curiosity but I assume you will not stay in your seat and wait, so may I ask what your plan is?” You liked Lute for many reasons, her loyalty for Adam was most definitely one of the highest attributes you admired. “I’ll go down myself and make sure he stays out of trouble as much as possible,” you explained, the lieutenant of your boyfriend remained by your side as you opened a portal to where Adam had last been spotted in hell, she was ready to go down with you. And while you normally wouldn't turn that offer down, this time you had to. Your visit in hell would be permanent - you were not going to leave the brunette to himself. “I’m coming with you, Sir,” the white haired woman said as she walked closer to the portal, yet she stopped when your hand gently came to rest on her shoulder. Your soft eyes met her determined ones and you offered her a warm yet genuine smile, “No Lute. Heaven needs you, I will take care of Adam, you will take care of heaven for me.”
The exorcist did not look very pleased with that decision of yours, still she gave you a nod and took a step back from you and the golden portal, “Very well, Sir.” With a little wave you turned around at her words, now facing the portal that would take you to your boyfriend and just as you were about to step through it, Lute raised her voice again, this time the usually so confident woman’s voice sounded somewhat unsteady, “Y/N?” You turned your head to Lute, then she continued, “Tell Adam I miss him.” And with those words she left. Ah yes, Lute always had trouble showing feelings and admitting them to somebody else than the person they were about surely must have been hard for her.
Hell was different than you had expected it to be, you had never personally been down there, why should you have been after all? Yet a creature as bright spirited as you was easy to spot - mainly due to your appearance. So when you turned around just to be tackled to the ground by a familiar first man, you were quite surprised and in shock at the same time, you had not expected Adam to spot you that quickly and act on it. “I fucking knew you would come to get my holy ass back into heaven,” the brunette mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. You held onto Adam’s body as you got up from the dirty ground - hell had a nasty vibe that you did not like but you’d have to get used to it. This place would now function as your new home due to Adam being not allowed to cross the pearly gates again. “Well, it’s not that easy love, I spoke to Sera-” Adam eagerly interrupted you, “I’m fucking sure she told you to get me in the first place, didn’t she? Yeah, she sure as fuck did.” Though when you shook your head in disagreement the prideful look in his eyes fell and disbelief replaced it. “What? You’re gonna fucking tell me these bitches want me to rot in this fucked up hellhole?” A simple nod was all you were able to give your boyfriend. Yes, that was exactly what Sera and the others had decided was the best solution for not only heaven but also Adam, but how could this be the best decision for Adam when he had been all alone the entire time and would have continued to stay alone if it weren’t for you disobeying the rules? Gently you cupped his face, a thing the first man had grown used to since that was something you did quite often - he still found it a little strange, it felt so intimate and personal while it appeared to be such a casual way of touching your lover. “The court has decided to not let you back in, Adam,” for Adam, this was the first time hearing your voice after his fall, after he had lost his status and home, after he had been convinced he had lost you as well. And despite your words being bad news, he could not help but find comfort in the sound of your voice. “But I won’t let you suffer here all on your own,” Adam’s eyes shimmered with hope and it felt painful to take that little bit of hope from him too, you knew he was hoping you were to smuggle him back into the heavenly realms - but that was a thing not even you as a seraphim could do.
“I’ll stay by your side,” and despite your thoughts that Adam would be highly disappointed, the hope in his eyes remained. You assumed that spending eternity in hell with his boyfriend sounded better to him than spending eternity in hell all on his own. “Well,” the brunette shrugged as he slowly pulled away from your touch, “That works fucking fine by me.” Not that it actually did though, the former angel would have preferred it if you would have taken his ass back to the pearly gates. But if the others were against it, you would make hell his new home instead, simply by spending all of eternity here with him just because you wanted to do so. He knew that if they hadn't done so already, they would properly ban you from the realm you had called home once forever, just like they had banned him. And he respected that - well, at least he thought he did because in his eyes that not only had the cute touch of ‘I throw my perfect life away to be with my loved one’, to Adam that also sounded incredibly stupid. Or at least he tried to tell himself that your decision was stupid - giving up everything to spend eternity with your loved one? Yeah totally not something he would do. Except that for you, he would throw it all away.
-
Getting used to hell’s atmosphere surely was not something that had ever been on your agenda, the air was stinky, the streets were dirty and the only area that felt clean and somewhat fresh was the area around the bakery you had built. The building was huge, shimmered in heaven’s brightest colors and you even managed to let some grass grow around the building that was not only used as a bakery, but it was also the new home of Adam and you. It had been quite some work - not because it was hard to work angelic magic in hell, no that had been the easy part. But due to this building doubling as a house and a bakery, it had taken some planning to not forget something important.
The bakery was not running very well, most sinners were not interested in heavenly food. The creatures down here looked up at heaven like the angels up there looked down at hell, in disgust and despair, not that you blamed them for doing so, they surely had their reasons to think that way. But you had two or three regulars that would stop by every other day and those people surely made your day, especially with one of them being Charlie Morningstar. Adam was not very happy whenever little miss butterflies and rainbows was visiting, but you and her got along quite well and your boyfriend at least tolerated that. And despite the bakery not earning very much money, the both of you had everything you needed, that was the bright side of not having to pay rent, you assumed.
Lute had convinced Sera to do regular check-ups on you, however she had only told the seraphim as an excuse to visit Adam. Don’t get her wrong, she was also glad to be able and pay you a visit, but her and Adam were closer than you and Lute could ever be and her missing her best friend more than his boyfriend was more than normal, not only in her eyes but also in yours. Sometimes she even talked Sera into taking one or two of the exorcists with her, to Sera she would say she takes them with her for defense reasons, in reality they just missed their former leader - and who could blame them? Lute surely did not.
You were standing behind the counter, the first man leaned against your side, wrapped up in your soft wings, his head on your shoulder as he was almost falling asleep. It was still early and Adam was convinced he would never get used to getting up so early in the morning, to him it felt like it was still the middle of the night. The little bell that rang as the door to the bakery opened made him crack one eye open and as he spotted a familiar face, he lifted his head off your shoulder, he remained wrapped in your wing though, not willing to leave the cozy warmth they provided.
“Danger Tits,” Adam beamed at the white haired woman as she entered the bright and heavenly feeling bakery. The vibe of the building you had created was different from the rest of hell, whenever Lute entered the inviting looking building she felt like you had brought a piece of heaven to hell. And while she still disliked Charlie’s idea of rehabilitation, she did like the fact that you made hell a little nicer - at least for Adam’s sake. That way she knew the first man was able to live a somewhat good afterlife, even with his soul stuck in hell.
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Chapter 2
Chapter 1 Here
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go.” Mr. Pennyworth says.
It feels like a dagger has been shoved into my stomach. I’m not sure what to say, so he just continues anyway.
“Your productivity is by far the lowest in the company, you’re not reliable to show up on time or even at all, and your long hair is unprofessional and not befitting of this company’s standards.” He clears his throat, sifting through some papers. “We also have reason to believe you called-in on Friday without actually being sick.”
“What makes you think that?” I say, finally speaking up for the first time.
He shrugs, “Let’s just say we got an anonymous tip.”
******
“Everything alright with you?” Max asks, moving his pawn forward to free up his bishop.
“I’m fine,” I say, half-heartedly moving my knight with no clear plan in place. “Lost my job today.”
Max frowns, moving his bishop out as I expected. “I’m really sorry, dude. That sucks to hear.”
“Yea…it’s fine, I guess,” I sigh, “Didn’t much like it there much anyway.”
He still hasn’t said anything about the other day. I’m not sure if he actually saw anything, or he did and just doesn’t want to bring it up. How do you talk about seeing a bunch of sissy toys and diapers in your roommate’s room? Is that even something to talk about?
I remember back in college when my roommate at the time had found a slew of sissy porn on my computer. I was there when he saw everything. That sick feeling in my stomach took forever to go away. It’s back now.
“Well if you start applying for jobs, you can always use me as a reference. Just say I’m an old manager or something.” He says, putting his Queen in a precarious position. I seize the opportunity and take it. I realize too late that it left my King open for an easy assault. An obvious trap I should have seen coming.
“Checkmate.” Max says, smiling.
******
As the weeks went by, so did the job opportunities and applications. I rarely received any callbacks, and even if I got an interview, I’d either get ghosted afterwards or they would call and say something to the degree of “after careful consideration, we’ve decided to go with another candidate.”
God, the job market is rough.
My bank account is dangerously low. I probably should have done a better job of saving for times like this, but I guess I was more excited about buying outfits and diapers. Still, I’m not going to make it through the next month without some sort of income. It’s time to have the awkward conversation with Max.
“Hey, man. Can I talk to you for a sec?” I say, shuffling my feet into the living room.
He pauses the hockey game and turns to me, “what’s up?”
It’s such a weird topic to bring up, but I have to bite the proverbial bullet. “I’m having trouble finding a job…” I say sheepishly, “I didn’t work long enough at my last one to get severance, so…I’m a little low on funds.”
He just sits there, always with that stoic expression, listening intently. He doesn’t say anything, just lets me continue.
“So…umm..I’m uh, gonna be short on rent this month.”
Again he continues to stare at me, as if deep in thought, stroking his beard. It almost seems a little exaggerated. Like he’s acting.
“I see,” he finally says. “So you need me to help you?”
As demoralizing as it is to admit, I have to. “Yes…”
He smiles. “Okay. No problem.”
“Really?”
“Yea.”
I don’t know what to say. A weight of anxiety and fear is lifted off my shoulders. I can feel it melt away as I start to relax. “Thanks man, I really do appreciate it. I’ll find a way to make it up to you, I promise. Anything you need, just let me know.”
His eyes have a strange glint to them. Like he was hoping I would say exactly that.
“I actually do have a job in mind for you,” He says, “You can start today.”
I sense a sudden shift in the air around the room. He leans back on the couch a bit, patting the seat next to him. I find myself sitting down beside him, not exactly sure what’s going on, but sensing something amiss.
Max puts his hand on my leg, “it’s okay, nothing to worry about.” he says softly. I feel myself release a breath, feeling comforted, but still a little uneasy.
It’s like he’s holding something back. Like he’s trying to find the words but doesn’t know how to say it. I wonder if he knows. If he saw the things in my room.
“I saw the things in your room.” He says.
Yea, I’d say he knows…
My stomach does that familiar churning. The shame of what I've done, or been caught doing coursing through me. “I-i can explain…”
“Don’t bother.” He says, waving it away. “I’ve always had my suspicions.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I’ve always tried to be so reserved and secretive with my true desires. I didn’t think anyone else would notice.
He shifts on the couch again. When he does, something catches my eye, there’s a very large bulge in his shorts.
Noticing me looking at the log snaking down his leg, he starts running his hand over it and smiling. “Have you ever sucked a cock before?”
I realize my mouth is hanging open. I gulp, shaking my head. “Not a real one.”
He laughs at that, it breaks some of the tension, then he shrugs. “Well, there’s a first time for everything…” he gently pulls at his zipper, snaking it down ever so slowly. But he doesn’t pull it out, just leaves it open, letting my imagination run wild. “Do you want to suck it?” He asks.
Again I find myself dumbfounded, this is all happening so fast, but before I can think about it I find the word escaping my lips.
“Yes.”
He chuckles. “Good, because you were going to have to do it anyway. This place ain’t cheap.”
After our awkward laughter dies down, I’m left in the precarious position of what to do next. Luckily, he guides me after several seconds of silence.
“Open my pants.”
I reach a shaky hand to his button, it takes me a bit to get my fumbling fingers to work it free.
Again, I’m lost as to what to do next. Should we kiss? Do I close my eyes? What do I—
“Take it out.”
His direction helps. It’s easier for me to follow orders than it is to take initiative in such uncharted territory. I reach my hand into the waistband of his boxers, feeling around for it, my heart beating out of my chest. It doesn’t take me long at all to find the warm, fleshy member. I gently pull it back, it bends a bit before snapping out of the boxers to stare straight up at me.
It’s big. Very big. I can barely wrap my fingers around it. The veins are popping out the side, and I can even feel his own heart beating through it. Pulsing. Rapidly. He’s just as nervous as I am but he doesn’t show it.
“Well...it’s not gonna suck itself…”
I realize I’ve been staring at it for a while. I use my other hand to wipe the drool from my mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Somehow my throat feels both dry and wet at the same time, it doesn’t even make sense. Finally, I push past the nervous excitement, and lean forward. His cock seems to grow as it gets closer to my face. I’ve imagined this moment over and over for years. I’ve watched countless videos through the lens of girls wearing a GoPro on their head taking big, giant dicks into their mouths. But somehow this is different. I’m the girl now. It’s my POV, and it’s what I've always dreamed of.
I open my mouth when I’m inches away and close my eyes, imagining I'm one of the girls in those videos.
The head of his dick already feels different than my dildos. It’s squishier, warmer, and tastes just a little bit salty, but in a good way. In a great way. This is what I've always wanted, and I’ve finally gotten it.
I hear a soft moan escape my lips just before they close around his cock. It sounds pathetic, but I don’t care. Things finally feel…right. Like this is what was supposed to be in my mouth all along. All those things they told me in sissy porn were true.
I take him deeper in my mouth. I find it easier to slide it down my throat than my dildo. I take it as far as I can until my eyes water, then go back up for a breath.
In the overwhelming rush of stimuli, I forgot all the techniques I’ve practiced for so long. I try to remember: swirl your tongue, suction on the way up, not down, and most importantly: keep it nice and wet.
I let the drool run from my mouth, using my hand to coat his cock with it, taking a breath before diving back down.
“Someone’s been practicing.” He breathes.
I melt at his praise. I always wanted to be a cocksucker, and I always hoped I’d be a good cocksucker. But you never really know, my dildo doesn’t make noises.
But him? He was breathing heavily, moaning, groaning, and doing all the things that told me I was doing something right. It ignited a fire in me. With every grunt he made I found myself getting more and more enthusiastic so as to make it happen again.
Leaning over across the couch next to him is a bit awkward, though.
He notices. “Get on your knees.”
I take him out of my mouth and scramble a little too eagerly onto the floor between his legs.
He looks down at me, almost victoriously, like his plan has come to fruition. I am in no way perturbed. In fact, my cock is screaming inside my pants. I don’t think I've ever been this hard in my life.
“Looks like you’re enjoying yourself.” He says, apparently noticing my penis poking prominently through my pants. “You can touch it.”
Is that his decision? I guess so…because as soon as he says it I find my hand going inside my pants.
“No no.” He says. “On the outside. Rub it like you’re a girl. A sissy girl.”
Just the sound of that word gives me a wave of pleasure. I’m so hot and bothered that my body is quaking. I love the way he’s dominating me. Taking my power away so I don’t have to make the decisions myself, and therefore making me more relaxed about doing something I may otherwise have chickened-out on. Would I be here, on my knees, about to suck his cock if he hadn’t made me? Is he making me? Or am I doing it on my own volition?
I knead the front of my crotch. Feeling my throbbing cock and nestling my aching balls. I feel a bit weird with him watching me, so I turn my attention back to his cock. Well, more specifically, his balls. I’ve learned that when worshipping a man—as I’m doing right now—maintaining eye contact while lapping at his balls is one of the perfect ways to show your submission. I also know (from being on the receiving end) that having your balls sucked does not feel nearly as good as porn makes it seem, it’s actually kind of painful.
So after licking his sack and stroking for several seconds, I spit on his dick and take it back into my mouth with renewed vigor. My own balls are aching at this point, I can feel them turning blue. I use two fingers and twirl them in circles over my pants while I bob up and down on Max’s dick.
“Fuck yea…” he moans. God it feels so good to make him make those noises. “I’m gonna cum.”
So am I.
Knowing he’s on the verge gets me insatiably hot. I want nothing more than to get him to bust in my mouth, like some sort of primal need.
I hear myself moaning again. I’m not sure if it’s from the pleasure I'm giving or receiving.
“You want it in your mouth?” He asks considerately.
“Mhmm!!” I swoon hungrily around his dick. My hand gyrates over my own. The thought of making a man cum in my mouth is too much to handle. I feel a warmth fill my pants as I shake and convulse, trying to keep my focus on his dick while I spasm in an intense orgasm.
I feel the desire begin to fade. The reality of what I'm doing seeping in. This is my roommate, and I’m on my knees in our living room slobbering all over his big dick like a girl he just met on Tinder.
“Ohh yea…” he twitches. I can feel the head of his penis swelling, even more than it was before. It gets me excited again. Eager. Desperate. “Right there, just like that! I’m almost there…”
I’ve never been on the receiving end of that statement. Guys saying they’re almost there but are actually a few minutes out.
My cheeks are starting to burn, my throat is getting sore, it burns from the bile of gagging, I need air, to take a break and a breath, but I don’t want to lose my progress. I need to power through and do what I need to do.
He grips the cushion of the couch. His legs flail and tense. The head of his cock is bigger than ever. His breathing becomes labored, syncopated, and then it stops.
That’s when I felt the first gush hit my tongue. Even though I was expecting it, I wasn’t exactly ready for it. Another pump, and then another. I worry I won’t be able to hold it all.
He gives a big exhale, and that’s when I know he’s spent. I hold his dick and his cum in my mouth a bit, not exactly sure what to do next. I suck a bit more to pull out any remaining drops, then take him out of my mouth.
The jizz is warmer than I expected it to be, saltier too, but it doesn’t taste bad. It’s my reward. A token of my accomplishment. I just sucked my first real dick, and it was everything I hoped it would be.
I gulp down the load, smiling gratefully like any good little slut would.
“Good job.” He says, patting me on the head like I’m a well-behaved puppy. “Now run along…”
That’s it. He doesn’t say anything else. Just pulls up his pants, zips them back up, grabs the remote, and resumes the Hockey game.
A little disheveled, I wipe the slobber from my mouth, get up, and head out of the room like a discarded toy. What did I expect to happen? For us to cuddle and whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ear? I don’t even think I would want that. But to be thrown away like that makes me feel…used.
Then I remember the wet, sticky stain in my pants. A reminder that I enjoyed myself, a lot.
So I guess it’s no surprise that when I got back to my room, I shut the door, locked it, and started enjoying myself two more times…
To Be Continued
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but daddy, I love him! - lockwood x reader
George tipped Lockwood out of his chair with surprising ease while Lucy started yelling at him. The two boys twisted around in their scuffle until George finally pinned Lockwood down and raised a fist above his head.
"Give me ONE good reason why I shouldn't punch your pretty face right now."
Lockwood's scratched and mildly bruised face split into one of his winning smiles, his whimpering temporarily ceased.
"You think my face is pretty?"
George reared back for the punch and Lockwood started shrieking incomprehensibly while Lucy started telling them both off.
a/n - vfvhkefrhu woooo this took a little more time than I anticipated heheh but here it is! <3
warnings/tropes - lockwood x socialite!reader, lil bit of angst, mostly fluff/humour!
word count - 3.8k!
MASTERLIST | TAGLIST
Right here, on this plush velvet couch, was where they were going to find her body. They were going to have to scrape her off bit by bit.
It was a dim Saturday morning, and Y/N was rotting in her courtyard living room with two of her friends. Sarah was preening in the full-length mirror, trying to decide if her nose was too small. Hannah was sipping a mimosa on the sofa opposite her, going on about this boy from two towns over who took her to the movies - not that she would ever be seeing him again, given that he was below her station. Y/N thought it was a shame; she couldn't remember Hannah ever showing this much of an interest in someone other than herself.
So there she sat, some unknown frustration distantly bubbling away as she was bored out of her skull. Maybe it was an ungrateful thing to say, but her fashionable lifestyle could feel glamorous for only so long. It was starting to grow stale - as stale as Sarah's obsession with her nose. She stifled a yawn, her eyes wandering to the higher floors, when something made her sit up. There it was again, a little flicker of light reflecting off of something. She mumbled something about a powder room and clumsily got to her feet, excusing herself from her inattentive guests.
It took her a while to figure out exactly where the flash was coming from, but she eventually located the corridor down where she could hear some noises. She heard a set of footsteps approaching her and turned, nearly running straight into a lanky clothes-hanger of a boy laden with all sorts of gizmos, wearing the most horribly ridiculous pair of goggles she had ever seen.
He let out a short scream and clung onto his goggles, and she reflexively caught the supplies that slipped from his arms.
"Who the hell are you?"
He owlishly blinked through his shiny, reflective goggles a few times, before reluctantly slipping them off. All thoughts about his strange attire flew from her head, replaced by one annoyingly nagging thought - he had kind eyes. Soft, trusting, kind eyes, the kind that momentarily knocked the breath out of you.
"I am so sorry..."
Don't be, she wanted to breathe out, transfixed on his eyes. He paused a little and awkwardly gestured to her arms. She glanced down and remembered where she was, hurriedly returning his supplies.
"That's some, um, interesting equipment you have."
He gave a brief smile. "Thank you. Anthony Lockwood, Lockwood & Co."
She frowned. "Lock-wood & Co. That sounds familiar."
"Well, we are a very up-and-coming psychical inv-"
"Oh! The agency that burned down Sheen Road!"
The boy's face took a faint tinge of red, and she immediately regretted putting her foot in her mouth.
"I mean - uh - you have some very interesting equipment."
He opened his mouth to respond when two more figures emerged from the shadows behind them, a girl guiding another flailing and mildly bruised boy, both of whom had donned matching goggles.
"Lockwood, I can't see shit without my glasses. How much longer do I have to make an arse out of myself?
The girl looked at Lockwood with an injured expression. "And you said these came free from Satchell's."
Lockwood huffed irritatedly at the other boy. "Snitch."
"Boo-fucking-hoo. I told you these wouldn't work." He sucked in a breath to continue but stopped short as he finally registered Y/N. "Hang on-"
"She's alive."
"Damn."
Lockwood gestured carelessly towards the other two. "My associates, Lucy Carlyle and George Karim."
"So you're here about the third-floor Visitor?"
"Yes. We received a report about some footprints..?"
"Oh, right. Those are just below my room. Here." She led the trio to the landing at the foot of the flight of stairs leading up to her room, which was stained with a quickly disappearing smattering of bloody footprints. The other boy knelt and considered the substance.
"Ectoplasm."
Lockwood turned back to her. "How often does the Visitor make an appearance?"
"No clue; I'm blind as a bat to anything supernatural. But the footprints only show up every couple of days, so it might be a while before they show up again."
His associates started examining the scene, and he bid her farewell with a grateful smile. By the time she had returned to the courtyard, she had been gone a bit too long to have her absence go unnoticed by her friends.
"And where did you run off to?"
"Told you, the powder room." She picked up a stray magazine, keeping her tone light. "I ran into some agents on the way back."
"Ooh. From Rotwell's?"
"Lockwood & Co."
Sarah peeled herself away from the mirror, mystified. "Who?"
Her giddy glow faltered. "An agency. Mr. Lockwood was there too. I was just...having a small chat with them."
"What for? They're working class."
"Don't be rude, Sarah." Hannah turned back to Y/N, a pinched expression still lingering on her face. "But...she's not wrong."
Y/N bristled defensively. "I'll have you know they're perfectly respectable company." Better than you lot, she wanted to add.
"Why? They're...poor."
"Y/N, we only want what's best for you," Hannah added in a nauseatingly simpering voice. "And that's...not...with people like them."
She tossed her magazine aside flippantly.
"You know, I wonder how the two of you bear it."
"Bear what?"
"Walking around with your noses stuck in the air all the time."
With that, she exited the living room, fuming. Yes, she was being childish, and yes, it wasn't news that her friends were prone to arrogance, but for some reason, their attitudes were particularly grating today. They hadn't met Lockwood like she had, of course they wouldn't understand. She replayed the feeling of watching him remove his goggles for the first time - unexpectedly climactic, and somehow...familiar.
She was sure of it. They would never understand.
For the next few nights, there would be a Lockwood & Co. employee stationed at the landing, complete with iron chains, flares, and salt. They'd bring along something to occupy themselves, like a book or a 3D puzzle, but it still felt nice to have a short chat with them before she went up to her room.
With Lockwood, the chats always lasted a little longer, and maybe she stayed up a little later than she ought to on those nights, but really, it wasn't anything special. Little by little, they pieced each other together. She's restoring her father's old radio. He likes his orange juice with pulp. She has an older brother she hasn't talked to in months. He visits his family's graves on the first Tuesday of every month.
The more time she spent with Lockwood, the more she realised how uninteresting she found everyone else. Somewhere between their stilted whispers and muffled laughter, she started to desire something...more.
"Hey."
Lockwood looked up from his magazine from where he was sitting cross-legged, encircled by his iron chains. He glanced at his watch, startled.
"You're back early."
She wrinkled her nose. "Wasn't enjoying the fundraiser."
"What about your friends?"
"They wanted to stay."
"So they let you leave? All by yourself?"
She bit her tongue. "Nothing wrong in that."
"No, of course not." As he was on the first day they met, Lockwood was quick to be an agreeable companion. But this trait added weight to the few times he chose to disagree. "But...nothing right either."
"It's alright. I'd hate to spoil their night." She sank onto the carpeted steps. "How's the investigation going?"
Lockwood glanced at the temperature sensor placed slightly outside the iron circle. "Temperature's dropping more than usual. Could just be because it's chillier today, but you never know." He looked up, and the moonlight illuminated his starkly pale face. "Do you not have any Talent?"
She hesitated. "A little. Not much, mind, certainly not enough to be an agent. But it was never something I needed to consider. I know people have it bad out there, but I'm just..."
"...too rich."
She gave a wry smile. "What gave it away? Besides the skyscraper ceilings, of course." They laughed briefly, before quickly sinking into a jagged silence.
"What's your home like?"
"It's...it's hard to describe. I don't think I could do it justice. You should come see Portland Row sometime. Have dinner with m-us. Us. Once we're done with the job. If you'd like."
"You should come see Portland Row sometime. Have dinner with m-us. Us. Once we're done with the job. If you'd like."
Lockwood was staring very hard at his sneakers. She found the whole thing highly amusing.
"Lockwood, I'd leave with you right now if I could. Really. It's just...my father..."
Her father would sooner have an aneurysm than let her 'play hooky,' as he would put it, especially with this less-than-glamorous ragtag team of misfits. While it had occasionally been a source of mild annoyance before, she never resented him as much as she did right then. And all that was without considering all the eyebrows that a guy like Lockwood would raise.
The faint moonlight was enough to make out the glimmer of his teeth, the curve of his face, the shadows settling around his deep-set eyes. She ached to know the look on his face, to know how he was feeling. The sprigs of lavender she had weaved into the hem of her dress were heavily perfuming the air, heady enough to make the evocative pull of his gaze strangely irresistible.
She peered at him through the railings, whose shadows marred his face, painfully reminiscent of a prison cell. She slid her hand along the bannister, gripping it firmly. It was moments like these when the rest of the house was quiet, too quiet, that she felt something flutter in her chest. Some compulsion flickering through her tendons to reach out through the railings, brush her fingers across his cheekbone, to have and to hold-
"It's getting late." Lockwood put his coat back on and started gathering some of his equipment. "I think I'll call it a night."
She hurriedly got to her feet too, suddenly embarrassed for some reason. "Yeah. No, me too. I should...I should get some rest."
Still, she lingered at the foot of the stairs long enough for Lockwood to pack away the chains. As he straightened, he turned to her as if he could feel that she was brimming with...something. She wanted to tell him how much she had enjoyed this night, and every night before. She wanted to tell him how happy he made her.
But she couldn't find the words.
"Good night," she said softly.
That was the last of their secret late-night rendezvous, as the Shade finally reappeared the following night and was safely put to rest by Lucy, along with any hopes of a budding romance.
Five days after what Y/N had thought was the last time she'd lay eyes on Anthony Lockwood (not that she was keeping count), she was quite happily proven wrong. Lockwood and George had paid a visit to collect their payment from her father.
She was not-so-casually lounging at the opposite end of the living room with her friends. The magazine she was holding upside down wouldn't have fooled anyone if they were paying attention, especially coupled with her relentlessly staring at Lockwood. She had been a little on edge when he had first walked in, hating how their last conversation had ended. But all it took was one of his easy, soothing smiles as he discreetly glanced at her to calm her down. She buried her nose deeper into the magazine as if she hadn't seen it, failing to hold her smile back.
When she had sufficiently composed herself, she peeked over the edge of the magazine to see the boys having some sort of disagreement as her father was writing out a cheque. Lockwood seemed to want to do something and George seemed to be holding him back until the cheque had been written.
As soon as her father had handed the cheque to them, George accepted it with a hurried thanks and a funny bow before practically running out. Lockwood took a deep breath before launching into some kind of monologue while occasionally glancing at her. Openly. Her father's face remained impassive.
She put away her magazine, mystified as she tried to make out what he was saying, trying to keep the dread creeping into her at bay. Even her friends had picked up on something being amiss as they followed her line of sight.
Her stomach sank as she caught a glimpse of the hard look on her father's face. By now, it couldn't have been more obvious that Lockwood was asking him...about her. She wanted to shake him, yell at him to run away, but some kind of morbid fascination, or perhaps a deep-seated fear, had locked her limbs, forcing her to helplessly watch as the events cruelly unfolded. She knew her father, and she knew Lockwood would never be able to change his mind. At least, she was quite certain.
She snapped out of her haze and leapt to her feet, but it was too late. By the time she had reached the pair, her father was already bidding him a stern farewell.
"...and if you ever talk to my daughter again, I will personally make sure that you never find work another day in London."
Lockwood turned sharply and briskly walked out, his facial features carefully schooled, seemingly oblivious to her hurrying over, or her gasp of despair. He took long strides that made it difficult for her to keep up with him, and he didn't stop until he joined George outside, closing the wrought iron gate between her and him. She clutched one of the bars and he almost immediately wrapped his hand around her.
"Lockwood - "
"You should go back inside before your father sees us."
"Please, listen - I'm really sorry."
"It's alright. I understand."
"My father's never been the understanding type, far from it - "
"I know - I knew that."
"This is all my fault. I should have warned you."
"No, don't...you didn't know I was going to do this."
"We could have kept it a secret."
"And have you sneak around? Lie to your father? Y/N, I'm not above taking the easy route when the situation calls for it, but not in this case. I wanted to do right by you."
Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. Lockwood looked as outwardly poised and calm as ever, but with the two of them this close, she could see the frustration simmering in his eyes.
"I'm so sorry - so mad - that he threatened you like that."
"To hell with my agency." He sighed and pressed his forehead against the gate, lowering his eyes to where their hands were clasped together in some pathetic pseudo-embrace. "I know how much his approval means to you. I just wish I could have gotten that."
They were silent for a moment. There was only a gentle breeze but no rustling leaves, and even George seemed sorry for his best friend. It was quiet enough to feel like they could hear each other's heartbeat but from opposite sides of the gate.
"I'm still sorry."
Lockwood bowed his head. "So am I."
He brushed his lips against her knuckles before pulling his fingers out of her palm and walking out of her life. She watched the two of them walk away, unable to leave the gate and come to terms with what had happened. For a moment there, before her father's expression had shifted, she had felt a glimmer of hope for her happy ending.
But reality had struck, and now all she could do was go up to her room, walk through the empty landing, and sob into her pillow as her heart screamed for the life she ached for so desperately.
She allowed herself the day to grieve, but by nightfall, she had already started plotting her next steps. The next day, she decided to broach the topic at the breakfast table, where her friends were already seated, whispering furiously until she walked in. She sat opposite her father as usual, who was reading the day's newspaper.
"Dad. I want to talk about yesterday. With - with Lockwood."
He gave no indication of having heard her. She could feel her friends' hawk-eye stares boring into her skin. Against her better judgment, she pressed on.
"I think...you should give him a second chance."
She could practically hear her friends salivating in excitement, flinching as her father set the paper down. He had a bit of a temper, no more than her, but it was never unwarranted.
"And why is that?"
"He may not have much, but he's capable, hard-working, resilient-"
"I know exactly the type of person he is, and before yesterday I thought you did too. Or have you forgotten Sheen Road?"
She nervously fidgeted with the buttons on her dress, suddenly feeling trapped and suffocated. This was going to be an uphill battle, she could see that, now that her blaze of self-righteousness was beginning to fade. "That was a one-off," she mumbled.
"Not quite. I rang up DEPRAC afterwards, and they said in no uncertain terms that his agency was one good accident away from being shut down. He's known to behave recklessly and rarely per the law - "
"Have you stopped to think why he might act this way? You've spoken to him yourself - doesn't seem the irrational type, does he?"
He sighed irritatedly.
"Is this really the type of person you want to throw your whole life away for? To tarnish your reputation?"
"It's my life and it's my name. If I wish to burn my life to the ground or throw my name in the mud, that's my choice. You don't get a say in that."
"To do all this over a washed-up, good-for-nothing-"
"But Daddy, I love him!"
"I don't - "
"And I'm having his child."
Sarah shrieked and dropped her compact. Even Hannah was rendered speechless, nervously pulling at her braid. Her father's eyes looked as though they were about to fall out of his head. An uncomfortable, prickling silence followed.
"Okay, I'm not, but you should see your faces."
Sarah gave a dramatic sigh of relief as Hannah released her braid. "Oh my, what a mess-"
"Don't you start." She turned back to her father, fresh out of all the hope and ammunition she had walked into the room with. "Please, Daddy. Never...never once have I complained about any of your rules. Can't I-" her voice broke off as she struggled to hold back a sob. "Can't I please just have this one thing?"
Her father looked unmoved.
"You listen to me, Y/N - stay away from him."
She glanced around the room desperately, trying to figure one last way out. One last way out. That was all she needed.
She found it.
"Fine. Maybe you're right. Maybe he is crazy. Maybe...maybe he is bad news."
She stood up, wrenching her anxious fingers away from her buttons, poised to run out of the room.
"But I love him anyway."
Lucy and Lockwood were at Portland Row going over the floor plans of the house of their next case. Lucy was trying her best to keep Lockwood on task, but she had never seen him this disinterested in their work.
She was struggling to hold his attention while he was fidgeting with a pen not very skillfully when they heard an insistent tapping on their kitchen window. They looked up to see Y/N waving at them frantically, gesturing towards the front door. Lockwood leapt up from their kitchen table, nearly stabbing himself with the pen, and joined her outside. There was something very nervous about Y/N's body language, especially since she started talking a mile a minute as soon as Lockwood stepped out.
"God, your eyebags look horrendous in the light. Do you ever-?"
The door shut behind the two of them. Lucy waited at the table for a minute or so, but once it became apparent they weren't about to finish anytime soon, she fetched a book and started to read. About ten minutes later, the front door opened again, but this time it was George returning from the Archives.
"Oh, George, can you tell Lockwood to come back inside?"
"What?"
"Lockwood."
"Where?"
"Outside."
"...outside where?"
"Outside, George. Don't be daft."
George stared at her cluelessly.
"He is still outside...?"
The realisation hit them both at once as they tripped over each other on their way to the front door. They looked out into the half-empty street, and the empty parking space in front of their house.
"George," Lucy asked, feeling majorly peeved by now. "Where is the car we rented for the weekend?"
Over the next month, neither Lucy nor George heard a word from Lockwood. After a particularly intense discussion that day, they decided not to alarm anyone by filing a missing person's report. But he had been absent from public view for a suspiciously long time, and Barnes was starting to find the story they concocted about Lockwood's debilitating illness less and less convincing.
Lucy and George had just arrived home after their latest case, which they were lucky enough to finish early. Lucy flicked on the kitchen light and there, sitting at the kitchen table, as he was nearly a month back, was Lockwood. He looked a little taller and a little less gaunt than they remembered. The three of them stared at each other for a moment, speechless, until the two of them launched themselves at him.
George tipped Lockwood out of his chair with surprising ease while Lucy started yelling at him. The two boys twisted around in their scuffle until George finally pinned Lockwood down and raised a fist above his head.
"Give me ONE good reason why I shouldn't punch your pretty face right now."
Lockwood's scratched and mildly bruised face split into one of his winning smiles, his whimpering temporarily ceased.
"You think my face is pretty?"
George reared back for the punch and Lockwood started shrieking incomprehensibly while Lucy started telling them both off.
"Wait - WAIT - you'll crumple the invites!"
"What invites?"
"To a - uh - how do I put this..."
"Spit it OUT - "
"Wedding!"
"Whose?"
Lockwood brought his arms down from where he was shielding his face, smiling bashfully. The three of them exchanged looks ranging from congratulatory to homicidal.
"What about -"
"He came around. We had lunch with him earlier."
"Wow. That's...congratulations. I just can't believe..."
"I know, we can't either."
"...that you didn't come straight home?"
"Geo- look, George, I wanted to, believe me, I - not the face, NOT THE -"
TAGLIST: @neewtmas @ahead-fullofdreams @mitskiswift99 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @elenianag080 @mohinithoughts @avdiobliss @snoopyluver20 @mischivana @dangelnleif
#lockwood and co#lockwood & co#lockwood and co netflix#anthony lockwood#anthony lockwood x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#anthony lockwood imagine#but daddy i love him#taylor swift#the tortured poets department#songfic
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Let's talk about Chayanne being a glass child. It seems that this has been a topic that has been noticed for some time, but I just notice the last friday! Xd
Probably because I'm a glass child myself, and yes I do kinn/kin(? Chay, so I take most of these behaviors as normal unconsciously (I had decided that I would use Tumblr only to upload drawings but since twitter didn't pay much attention to this I'll post it here too because I need to share my opinion with people).
First of all, what is a glass child?
It's a sibling of someone who needs extra attention/support. A child whos parents see right through them, like glass.
In this case Chay is a sibling of someone who is given extra attention most of the time, in most occasions not exactly because she needed it.
Chay is a glass child.
Theres no room to even try to discuss that.
Lullah is a kid who is constantly given extra attention. Whatever reasons it happens won't be important for this thing I'm written/sharing.
Lullah is seeing as the little sister. A little sister who needs, who must be protected above everything (which affects Lullah to some extent negatively but we won't focus on that this time). Lullah is seeing as someone weak. Someone who always will need help.
(I'm talking about must people on the server, yes including q!Philza, except, specifically, q!Missa).
Lullah is the little princess who must be protected.
Now, who is Chayanne?
Chay is the big brother.
The oldest.
The warrior.
The strong one
The protector of his siblings.
Chay must be strong, Chay must aim to be the strongest not just fiscally. Chay is forced to be this big, strong, brave leader who everybody can trust. Chay is expected to be the one wich his sibling can and must put to take every important decision if there's no adult around at the moment.
Chay is expected to be closer to act like an adult than a child.
When something dangerous happens Chay is not a priority. His sibblings are. Lullah is the priority. Philza must be sure that Lullah is fine before checking anyone else. Before checking if Chay is okey.
Because Chay is strong. Because Chay can take care of himself alone. Because Chay "don't need" that kind of attention to say it somehow.
I am a big sister, as I said before, a glass child too, so I have lived similar things, obviously not to a death or live situation but I understand the feeling. So, I'm gonna try to explain the feeling the best way I can for people who aren't a glass child.
As a big brother, as the warrior, the example, the leader, the protector he probably thinks that this kind of thinking is fine.
But I can assure it is not fine.
But I can't assure that Chay feels exactly like what I'm gonna said, because if he does feel like it, he would never show it to his dad therefore neither to us. He would do everything in his power to not show that he feels like this (I will explain why later). So I have no way of guaranteeing that he does feel like the following, either way he could feel this way and that's why we are talking about it.
Glass childs can feel jealous for theirs sibling. And it's an awful feeling. At the same time they can feel bad of being jealous of their sibling because they think that feeling like that is selfish. That They are being selfish by feeling that.
Because what right do they have to feel like that? Their sibling needs that attention. They can be fine without that attention. Thay must be fine without that attention. Because if they aren't, what kind of sibling are they?
Because is not like their sibling nor parents wants them to feel like they are being overlook. Because is not that their parents "loves them less". Is just because their sibling needs their parents attention more than them. And they must live with that. They must be good little kids that don't create more problems, more stress, nor to their sibling nor parents. Thats their job. To be one less problem.
The expectation of Chay is that he must be the one to fight for his sibling. Chay is expected to give everything in his power to assure the well being of Lullah.
Chay do like being strong, Chay do like to fight and protect. But when you are forced to the extreme of this things, of being strong all the time, of feeling the need to fight in every dangerous situation, to help, and to feel that you are always protecting and never being protected is exhausting.
As the big brother, the strongest, how could he tell ANYBODY that he is feeling exhausted of doing his job?
He can't show that that is making him feel sad, nor exhausted, nor any negative emotion.
Because he can't be a problem. Because he "doesn't" need more attention nor care of Phil.
Lullah is expected to be sentimental and open about everything she feels. It doesn't matter if it's sadness or happiness. It's expected for Talullah to show her emotions.
Chayanne is expected to be fine. Chay is expected to not show at the same extension his emotions as Lullah, nor his sadness, nor his fears nor any "negative" emotion. It is "normal" for Chay to not show such emotions. It's not something strange.
Because Chay sees his value on how well he can take care of his family, of Talullah.
He sees his value on how well he can perform as this big, strong, brave brother.
I will develop this using an example of Chay being treated as a glass child.
The last friday, Philza goes and saves Lullah first. Then Chay. This is not that big of a deal, but what is big deal is what he says when Tubbo started saying that he has a favorite.
"Out of this two, I know that Chayanne would be a little bit more okey being alone for a bit longer."
Chay is expected to be fine.
Chay must be capable of being fine.
Chay must be fine with Phil being more worried about Talullah than him.
Chay must be fine with Philza not being that worry about him because he has going to be okey.
And how does Chayanne react?
He said nothing. He literally didn't show any inmidiate reaction. He look at his dad for a moment and then look at what Lullah wanted to say. And just after Phil said that he is his little warrior, that he is strong, that he fight him and won he spoke.
He said that it was not great fighting Philza. And of course Phil said sorry... And that's it. Talullah is the one who mention (in a joke but still mention it) about Philza implying that he wasn't worry about Chay.
Chay is expected to be fine alone. To not need help as much as Lullah.
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