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#that you just ordered out soup instead
scintillyyy · 3 months
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tim, the chicken noodle soup you made from scratch with dana and the full dinner spread you planned on making bruce for father's day will always be famous 2 me <3
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clowndensation · 1 year
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you'd think with the amount of medical bills i'm about to receive, i would be less inclined to waste money ordering food. alas.
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chlorinecake · 5 months
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imagine taking care of riki while he’s sick and he can’t resist the urge to give you kissies all over bc he’s so inluv with you :(
[Vitamin C]uddles —⊹ N.RK (西村力) 🛏️
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Pairing… ⊹ ࣪ ˖ sick boyfriend!niki x gf!reader
Warnings… ⊹ ࣪ ˖ kissing, lots of teasing, fluff
Words… ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 521 -> “I’ll take care of you. Duh.”
Despite his usually intimidating appearance, Niki was a huge baby on the inside, and those attributes were only amplified whenever he wasn’t feeling well.
The poor boy had been sick ever since he got back from traveling, so you took it upon yourself to care for him until he got better.
“Hey, this needs more soy sauce… I can hardly taste it,” Niki whined, taking a dissatisfied sip from the chicken soup you ordered.
“Niki, there’s already so much in here that the broth turned brown. Now eat up before it gets cold,” you said, placing a napkin on the table tray beside him.
“I will, but only if you stay with me this time.”
You turned your head at his words, “Aww, d’you miss me?”
“No, I’ve been in bed all day and I’m just bored.”
“Riigght,” you said, spoon feeding him a glob of the grape flavored medicine.
He made a weird face, trying to get over the bitter taste of the cough syrup, “My God, that tastes like poison!”
You giggled at your boyfriends words, climbing in bed next to him with a large plate of assorted sushi rolls, “Try some with wasabi, too! It might help unclog your sinuses.”
Using the chopsticks, you dipped a sushi roll into the chunky green paste, bringing it to his mouth with an airplane motion.
You must’ve put too much, because his eyes immediately started watering as he ate it.
“Do you have any other talents aside from torturing me everyday?” He asked, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.
“Yup,” you said plainly, escaping his side, “I’m pretty good at leaving sick people to fend for themselves.”
He watched as you walked toward the door, “Byeeee… wait! NOO!! I miss you already!”
“But you just said bye?”
“I didn’t mean it, baby. Come back please!! You forgot to give me vitamin C.”
“Vitamin what?” You asked, turning to face him with your arms crossed.
“Vitamin C… for cuddles,” he clarified, pouting.
“Fine,” you said sharply, “but only if you promise not to say anything else stupid… or mean.”
“Ok, ok, just stop stalling and get over here already!”
You walked back to the bed, lying next to Niki under the covers as he put the sushi platter on the bedside table.
“Wahhh, you’re so warm,” you giggled, your silly boyfriend swinging his leg over your body.
“Okay, now what are you doing?”
“Making a cage for you, my naughty little kitten,” he smiled, poking your nose.
“But I don’t like cages,” you sulked.
“Well then pretend it’s a seatbelt instead,” he chirped.
“Fine…”
“Double FINE! Can I get a kiss now?”
“What? No, what if you get me sick?”
“Then I’ll take care of you. Duh… and before you ask, yes, I promise,” he chuckled, resting his hand on your neck before cradling your face in his hand, leaving feather light kisses all over your face.
“Thank you for not rejecting my heebie-jeebies,” he said in between pecking your cheeks.
“Well when you put it like that, it kinda makes me want to,” you teased, squirming in his warm embrace.
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More like this: Kisses with Riki in the dressing room
౨ৎ Thank you for reading this quick little fic, and special thanks to the lovely anon who requested this piece!
౨ৎ Feel free to check out more cute and fun reads like this at the pinned post on my blog :3
౨ৎ Tags: kinda got lazy here but bear with me ~ @squoxle @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @nikisdubblchococake
update 12/03: Thank you all so much for 1,000 likes!!
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bet-on-me-13 · 3 months
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The First Supervillain
So! A Typical "Early Start" AU where the events of The Show happen early in the Timeline. Like, in the 70's or 80's.
Danny never quite managed to fix his Public Perception, and even years into his career people still saw him as the Villain.
Coincidentally Valerie was seen as a Hero because of how often they were seen fighting. Even after they revealed their Identities and got together, they still had the occasional Battle. It was their love language.
His role as the Villain was Cemented when Pariah launched his Second Invasion of Earth after some dumbass accidentally freed him, and Danny took the Blame for it. Instead of being seen as the Hero who battled Pariah and stopped the Invasion, he was seen as the Tyrant to launched the Invasion in the first place, with Red Huntess being the one to defeat him in one final Ultimate Battle.
And honestly? He was fine with that. Now that he was the King of the Ghost Zone, he had the Authority to Regulate the Portal so villains stopped getting through. And that meant that he wasn't needed to stop random Ghost Attacks anymore. He could finally focus on College and his own Life, instead of sacrificing everything to act as the Protector of the Human Realm.
Val continued to be a Hero for a few more years, eventually retiring when it became Clear that the new generation of Heroes could pick up the Slack.
He went to College, got a Job as an Aerospace Engineer, and eventually proposed to Valerie.
About 20 years since his initial Accident, and he was doing great! He had moved into a humble home on the edge of town with his loving wife Val, his beautiful daughter Ellie, and his cute dog Cujo.
Yeah, life was good.
Until the day Danny accidently caused a Mass Crisis.
...
Superman was having some extreme trouble in dealing with his current Opponent. He had just been flying around the City, patrolling as Usual, when all of a sudden he had been attacked by a Flying Mech Suit.
At first he had assumed that Lex was giving it another Go, but he quickly realized that was not the case when the Armor seemed to Phase though solid matter in the middle of the battle. Lex had never made Tech advanced enough to do that on the fly.
This opponent was tough too. Strong enough and Durable enough to go blow for blow with him, and seemingly able to pull Advanced Weaponry from out of nowhere whenever he wanted. As tough as it was to admit, Superman as losing the Battle.
Then, without warning, the battle stopped. His opponent was staring at the space just behind him, with a look of pure dread. He turned around, and his heart stopped.
Floating behind him, staring right past him and directly at the Mech Suit, was the First Villain Phantom.
He looked much the same as when he had last been seen, although he was definitely Older. He had snow white hair, and glowing green eyes that seemed to stare right past him and into his very soul. He was wearing what seemed to be a costume of sorts, with an all black suit, white gloves, and white boots. Over his Shoulders sat a Cloak made of Stars, and above his head sat a Crown made of an Icy Blue Fire.
The Mech tried for a greeting, "Er- Hello t-Lord Phantom. How do you d-"
"Skulker."
"Y-yes?"
"What are you doing here? I thought I gave you explicit orders to stay in the Ghost Zone until further notice. You disobeyed me."
"Okay look. I got excited, that's my fault. It's just, I got anxious waiting. Can you really blame me? I've been waiting 20 years to take another Crack at the Human World, what's it matter if I left a few weeks Early?"
"I told you. You were supposed to wait exactly 20 Years, and you left Early. This calls for punishment."
"No wait!"
"Let's see how you feel after a few days as Soup."
The Villain pulled out a Thermos, and in a flash of green light, Skulker was gone, and the King was capping the Thermos. He then turned to Superman.
"I apologize for him, he decided to leave ahead of schedule." The King addressed him. "Now, Kryptonian. Rest and tend to your wounds, you will need to be in your best health if you want to continue saving the lives of those people below us."
With a dramatic flare, the King reached up and Tore a hole in Space. Through the Hole, Superman could only see an infinite Green Void, with the sound of screams cheering being heard through the rift.
The King departed through the Tear in Spacetime, and it closed behind him.
Superman tried to collect himself, and activated his League Emergency Comms.
"Attention All Founding Members, and Justice League Dark Members. This is Superman calling for an immediate Emergency Meeting."
He took a deep breath.
"Phantom is Back."
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nohoney · 5 months
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“hey tsuki, don’t be mad at me.”
bakugou looks up from his phone to see you peeking out from the hallway, already trying to look apologetic and sweet so that you don’t incite as much annoyance from him. “yes baby?”
“i changed my mind… i did wanna get food. can i just have a little bit of what you ordered?”
yup, he knew it. he asked earlier if you wanted delivery since he didn’t feel like cooking lunch at the moment and you had said no, claiming that you would make your own lunch with whatever was in the fridge. “did you want the caprese sandwich and the tomato soup?” bakugou asks, already knowing that’s your go to from the restaurant he ordered from. he sees you nod your head and still hold your expression, like you’re hoping he’s okay with making a second order for you.
he looks back down at his phone, scrolling away from some news article he was reading to go on instagram instead. “i already ordered it along with my stuff.”
you gasp and then next thing he knows, you’re squishing him in a hug and giving him the biggest smile. “really?! how did you know?”
“i know because you always change your mind after i ask you the first time if you want me to get you something. just saves me the hassle of you giving me those sad eyes when i get food and you don’t have any.” bakugou knows your habits now and he’s learned that if he’s going to order something, he might as well order what he knows is your favorite as well.
“oh but… i also want dessert. i really like the earl grey cake…”
“i know, it’s already included in the order too.”
you practically launch yourself at him, squealing out a dozen thank you’s and telling him that he’s the best. it brings a dopey smile to his face, telling you to calm down a little and that of course he wouldn’t let you go hungry.
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yuujispinkhair · 5 months
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The Summoning
Sukuna is the King of Curses, a God, an almighty being who answers to no one. But why does it feel like some divine force is pulling him towards you? -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event (closed). @lucifers-baby-girl requested the song "The Summoning" by Sleep Token.
Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff Word Count: 1k Warnings: 18+, implied sexual intercourse, but no explicit descriptions. Dub-con at first (Sukuna is the King of Curses and orders Reader to give herself to him. But they gradually develop a loving relationship.) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
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He doesn't know what it is that makes him come back over and over again to this small hut in the middle of the forest. He stumbled upon it weeks ago after burning down a village nearby. On his way back to his temple, he found you. You stared at him with wide eyes before you fell to your knees and greeted him respectfully, inquiring how you could serve the great Sukuna-Sama.
And he grinned when he pulled you up and told you exactly how he wanted you to serve your King. There was fear in your eyes, but you gave yourself to him obediently, leading him into your bedroom, slipping out of your clothes, and offering your warm, soft body to him.
He came back to you two days later. And again and again, he keeps coming back.
It's like he is a hunter following a trail of blood that leads him to his prey. And maybe this is quite fitting because he is a hunter, and you, as small and weak as you are next to his huge figure, can only be seen as prey. So fragile in his four muscular arms, so helpless under his heavy body. But why is it then that he feels as if you hold a power over him he never experienced before?
Why does he come here almost every night? Why is he restless when he cannot make it to your hut because he is too busy? Why does he seek your company? Why does it feel as if he needs to be close to you?
At first, it was just a rough meeting of bodies. It was him claiming you, taking what's rightfully his because he is the King of Curses, because he is a God, and he can have whatever and whoever he desires.
But then you asked him if he would like to stay for dinner.
He had laughed, amused by your bravery that you asked the monster to spend more time with you instead of being grateful that he was finished with you and would leave you again.
But he was a man who enjoyed food, and so he stayed and sat there on the floor of your small hut, smirking as he let you serve him the meal you had prepared. To his surprise, it tasted delicious even though it wasn't made of the ingredients he usually consumed.
He let you sit on his lap afterward and petted your hair as if you were a small animal. You didn't flinch when his large hand touched your head. You didn't tremble in fear when his lips trailed over your neck. Not to bite, but to breathe in your scent and to place a possessive kiss on your soft skin.
Maybe he keeps coming back because you are such a mystery to him. Why do you treat him with kindness? Why do you not only willingly offer your body to him but also give him your food and your smiles?
You even hold conversations with him. Another thing Sukuna isn't used to. Uraume is the only one who occasionally talks to him. Really talks to him. Everyone else just grovels before him, asking him for things, wanting something from him. All of them are just begging and praying and getting on his nerves with their demands. A good harvest, protection from their enemies, mercy for their villages. It tires him.
But you hand him a bowl of soup, smile at him and ask, 
"How was your day, Lord Sukuna?"
And he tells you about holding court, about being bored while having to listen to some noblemen trying to get him on their side.
You nod and cock your head, eyeing him curiously, not even shying away from looking directly into all four of his sapphire-colored eyes.
"And did you also do something that brought you joy?"
He blinks before he laughs,
"Being the King of Curses doesn't bring the joy I thought it would. But I am having joy right now."
It is true, and the realization haunts him the whole way back to his temple. Is that it? Is that the reason he keeps visiting you? Because he feels something when he is with you?
He tries to keep his distance after this revelation, disturbed by the thought of being somehow dependent on you.
But he only lasts a week before he finds his way back to your small hut. Not feeling like a hunter following a blood trail, but more like a man pulled here by the power of fate. A man guided by some divine force. As if you are summoning him here by a magic he isn't familiar with.
You open the door with a smile, and that smile grows even bigger when he lifts you up and carries you to your bed. Your lips find his before he is able to claim yours.
It's the same again, just like the last time he met you, bodies entangled in a passionate embrace, lips moving against each other, soft groans filling the small room when Sukuna takes you, your tiny hands caressing his muscular back with a gentleness that almost scares him.
He doesn't feel like leaving your bed after you both found completion. Instead, he wraps his arms around you, all four of them, and pulls you against his broad body, laughing softly at how small you look with your face resting on his chest and your small hand tracing the firm muscles on his stomach, giggling when he lets his mouth down there open to flick his tongue over your fingertips.
"I am glad you came back to me, Sukuna. I was worried. I was scared you were injured or something like that."
His chest fills with a strange warmth. He cannot remember anyone ever being worried about him.
"Don't fear, little one. No one can defeat me."
But as the words leave his lips, he knows he isn't speaking the truth. It is right that no army can defeat him. No King, no God holds power over him. But there is a human woman, soft and warm, snuggled against his chest, who somehow touches his soul and holds his heart in her tiny hands. And for the first time in his life, Sukuna thinks he met someone who could bring him to his knees.
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This was my first time writing Trueform!Sukuna and I hope you liked it aaaaah!! I just feel like the lyrics fit perfectly for a historical Sukuna story, and since I wanted to add the hunter and prey vibe, Trueform!Sukuna worked the best for me.
Thank you so much for the prompt!! I loved writing this!! Please let me know what you think.
Comments and reblogs would be sweet!!
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fourmoony · 7 months
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𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞
james potter x f!reader
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fluff. 1.5k.
Summary: James brings home a baby. A baby that is not kidnapped.
part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - masterlist
...
James is standing in the doorway with a baby in his arms.
You’re so grateful he’s even there, that he’s made it back alive – albeit a little bloody and battered, glasses askew and his face covered in dirt – but alive nonetheless, that you don’t even notice the baby, bundled in a warm, fluffy blanket, wrapped safely in his arms. He’s bouncing his arms gently, probably trying to soothe the baby who’s making soft noises, and it’s really a sight to behold. It’s not until he steps through the doorway and gives you a nervous, lopsided smile that you fully register your boyfriend is holding a baby.
You blink. Once, twice. A third time.
James grows progressively more antsy. He chews his busted lip, winces, and then shifts back and forth on his feet. You have no idea where he could even have procured a baby. He’s been on an order mission for the past four days, scouting possible allies with the vampires whilst simultaneously moving important potions ingredients from one safe house to another, making sure the Death Eaters are always two steps behind order movements. Realistically, there’s been zero opportunity for James to come across a baby that he could just – take home.
“You’re home,” You breathe, because truly, that’s the most important part of the whole ordeal. James is here. He’s safe. He’s alive. Another mission down, and James has returned home. So, you’re glad. Grateful, unbelievably so. But also confused. Deeply confused.
“You have questions,” James is arguably calm about the situation, like he’d expected you to be eyeing him with hesitation – he was right – and he’s already rehearsed this in his head. “That’s normal.”
“Normal,” You repeat, the word tasting foreign on your tongue because nothing about this is normal. “Jamie, you’re holding a baby. Tell me we’re just like, babysitting, or something and you haven’t kidnapped someone’s child!”
James winces at your – albeit, quiet – yelling. The baby whimpers in his arms and immediately James shushes it, bouncing slightly on the spot with a desperate look in his eyes. He’s out of his depth, it’s obvious by the panicked way he’s looking between you and the baby, something pleading in his eyes.
“I didn’t kidnap her,” James argues childishly.
Okay, so, the baby is a girl. And James didn’t kidnap her. You turn and walk towards the kitchen, James follows, hot on your heels. The kitchen is a bit of a mess. There are your dishes from dinner, the bin is full, and there’s a couple of empty cartons for the recycling dotted on the counter closest to the back garden door. But James doesn’t flinch, he surveys his surroundings, but ultimately ignores the mess you’ve allowed to take over the small space in the days he’s been away.
“We were flying over Surrey when Marls spotted the dark mark over a muggle area,” James launches into explanation while you busy yourself with leaning over the sink and running the warm water. “We stopped to assess damage, but the Aurors were already there. Her family was killed, baby. The muggle government won’t touch the scene with a ten-foot pole – not that the baby had any other family, anyway, Alice already checked – and the Ministry won’t do anything except send her to an orphanage.”
The suds around your hands suddenly feel too much. The soup crusted around the side of your dinner bowl won’t come off and you scrub aggressively at it, focussing on that instead of the fact that your boyfriend has essentially just told you he’s informally adopted a child at random, without discussing it with you first.
Well, you know there was no time for him to discuss it. You can’t be mad at him for that. And, really, you can’t be angry at him, either, for bringing her to your home. She’s safe here. She’s already suffered an incredible amount of trauma, and she barely looks more than three months old. Your heart softens with your resolve, and you lift your head to look out of the window above the sink. The cottage you and James live in was a gift from his parents – a gift that had made you incredibly overwhelmed until you found out it had been under their ownership since before James was born, anyway – and has enough room for a swing set and a slide, maybe a trampoline. There’s a spare room, upstairs. Sirius will grumble about giving up his room for when he visits, but you’re sure he’ll get over it with some encouragement from Remus. The cottage is pretty much baby proof for James and Sirius’ sake, anyway. You have enough expendable income to completely kit out an emergency nursery necessary.
The argument isn’t really that you can’t afford to have a baby, or that you don’t have space for a baby. It’s that you’re nineteen, a year out of Hogwarts and in the middle of a war. Things are bad, times are scary, James is gone at least a week out of every month, you spend most of your days confined to the inside of a potions lab with Lily, making key potions that the Order need to work efficiently. You’re still kids yourselves, fighting a war that is taking everything from you.
But the way James is holding her like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen, rocking her, and cooing at her, you melt when you turn to face them, and it just feels – right, you suppose.
James looks up, smiles tentatively. You’ve always known he’ll be a great dad. He’s so full of light and love. When he loves, he loves with his entire heart. He loves dotingly and loyally. He’s so sure, standing there. Even though you can tell he’s trying to respect you, waiting to show his excitement until he knows how you feel, you can also see how much love he already has for this little girl, how sure he is that here, with him and with you, is the best place for her.
You take a step towards him, around the kitchen island, and hold your arms out wordlessly. He places her in your arms so gently and then watches as your eyes meet hers. They’re big and round and so blue you feel the breath hitch in your throat. She’s gorgeous. Big puffy cheeks and tufts of dark hair on her small little head. Her tiny lips are curved into a tired pout. You can’t help the smile that overcomes you. When your eyes lift – reluctantly – James is staring at you both. There’s something sickly sweet about the look in his eyes, warm like coffee, sweet like honey.
“We’re at war, Jamie,” You tell him, “Having a baby is a bad idea.”
James nods, “I know.”
A beat of silence passes. An understanding, maybe. It’s a bad time to be two nineteen-year-olds having a baby. But it’s there, in the way James looks at you. He’s never been one to have perfect timing. He asked you to be his girlfriend in the middle of an argument. He asked you to move in with him after school when the first Daily Prophet announcement about the war being confirmed happened. He’s brought a baby home out of nowhere, in the middle of said war. But it feels right. Holding her in your arms, James standing so close you can feel his warmth.
“What’s her name?” You ask, smiling sweetly at James.
He beams. He just – he beams. You know that he knows, then. You’re in. For better or worse.
“No idea. Alice had the muggle police contact the muggle social workers, who had no idea of anything about her. Bit of a mystery, really. But we get to keep her. Keep her safe, love her, raise her. So, I think it worked out. Is that bad?" James whips his head up, like his words surprised himself.
You chuckle lightly, "A little."
"What do you think we should name her?" You ask, eyes flitting back down to her. She's fallen over into sleep, blue irises gone from the world and you feel a tinge of sadness. You miss the bright blue of them, already. She's huffing softly, lips parted cutely. There's something magical about the way she's captured your heart in ten minutes flat. She might have magical powers, after all.
"Not sure. We can think on it. Our meeting with the ministry to officially adopt isn't until Monday." James speaks softly, in awe of the sight of you both.
You nod, "We better ring for Sirius and Remus, send them off for a cot, and then coax them into helping us build it."
You hand her over to James, he takes her, and then make for the phone. James stops you when he speaks, voice an amused whisper, lips pressed to her head, "They're already on their way."
"You knew I'd say yes."
"I knew you'd say yes. How could you not? Look at her." James is all honey voiced as he coos and holds the baby up for you to see and you melt.
She's the cutest thing you've ever seen. You're in awe. She's got your heart, well and truly. It's a strange feeling, to have such adoration for a human so small, who you've only just met. But you know you'll lay your life down to protect her. You'd do anything to make sure she's safe. She promises love, in the darkest time. You can already see the difference in James since returning home. He's lighter, full of smiles, gentle, happy. Usually, after missions, James is dark and brooding. He's filled with a darkness that only being a soldier can bring about.
James is looking at her so lovingly it makes you want to cry. She's happiness, and love. She's-
"Hope." You say, the ghost of a smile on your lips.
James looks up, brows furrowed, a question.
"Hope Potter." You affirm, tears in your eyes.
Your heart fills when James leans forward, presses a kiss to your lips, careful not to jostle Hope, "I love it. I love you."
"I love you. Both."
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deadsetobsessions · 26 days
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Damian Wayne is lost.
An impressive achievement, considering Mother and Grandfather had ensured his thorough education in geography, amongst other subjects.
He’d memorized the cities of Grandfather’s earlier days. He’d even memorized every random small town in Ohio. Damian knew that he had memorized every town in Minnesota just in case he was abandoned there for some reason (a fear that Dick Grayson had long put to rest).
Damian Wayne had never heard of an Amity Park.
“Tt.” He clicked his tongue, quietly glad he was clad in his vigilante armor instead of the banal uniforms of the civilian school he attended. Damian Wayne- Robin- sighed and tossed a line up, zipping to the roof of the building no time.
He tried his communicator.
“Da- bzzzt-! Get you- bzzzt!- wait! Don’t- bzzzzzzzt!- might be long s-bzzzzzzzzzt-!”
Damian tapped at his communicator. “Understood,” he grumbled, with no small sigh of relief. The communicators he used were directly connected to Father’s Watchtower- pardon, the Justice League’s Watchtower… that Father paid for- and reached all around the world.
With a few exceptions that Damian immediately ruled out, it meant that he was in a different dimension. The Robin grumbled, and pulled out a card his Mother had gifted to him. Inter-dimensional displacement was accounted for by his Mother, the daughter of a near immortal evil magician, and the card that could steal local money from anything hackable was the result.
“I might as well enjoy the vacation.”
Damian zipped down, ignoring the strange looks he got from the locals. He walked around to find a vegan place and found one, standing behind a goth girl who was teasing a bespectacled teen.
When he got to the counter, Damian swiped the card after having placed his order. He wasn’t, however, prepared to be accosted a glowing green- irritatingly, traumatizingly close to Lazarus waters- being that looked like a mad scientist.
“TRYING TO HACK-“
A white glove clad fist slammed into the being’s face.
“Oh my god, leave the kid alone, Technus!”
Damian pivoted, sword drawn.
A… floating green being that looked like a teenager grinned at him before opening a thermos.
“Soup time!”
Damian clicked his tongue as the “Technus” was sucked into the thermos. This cape reminded him of John.
“Irritating,” he muttered.
“Hey, kid! Are you okay? What's your name?"
“Robin.” Damian replied begrudgingly. Dick had impressed on him the importance of replying politely and Damian applied the concept in this situation.
“I’m Phantom!”
Ugh, even the grin was annoying. It reminded him of John.
“Apt.”
"You're a mean little kid aren't you?" Phantom grinned. "What's up with the sword?"
"Quiet, plebian. I am ordering my food." Damian turned and completed the transaction.
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hotluncheddie · 2 months
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‘I just don’t get it.’ Steve says, slamming the apartment door, pouting. 
He throws his keys down on the counter in a huff. Untucking his polo from his skin tight ‘date jeans’ and rubbing his fingers soothingly over the little indents they’re leaving on his belly. 
Eddie and Robin are splayed out on the couch, air hazy with smoke and a half eaten pizza on the coffee table. ‘What babe?’ Robin asks, lifting her arms up and making grabby hands at Steve. 
He slumps over and falls into her side, snuggling into her shoulder and taking a puff form the joint she holds to his lips. ‘I though coming out as bi would mean I’d go on nice dates, like I used to take girls on. But people would take me on them instead, guys or girls.’ He explains, taking another hit. 
‘Ah. Brian wasn’t the one?’ Robin asks. Putting the joint back in her mouth and tucking Steve closer under her arm. 
‘No.’ Steve pouts. ‘He was lame and he got all weird when I ordered pie. Which, like, we met at the bar, he knows what I look like, it’s not surprising that I ordered pie. Then he started yapping about his jogging routine.’ Steve rolls his eyes, undoing the fly of his jeans so he can kick them off and get comfy on the couch, like he always does, ‘date jeans’ are way too constricting for high pizza time. ‘Like one, bold of him to assume I don’t jog when I do, like, when I feel like it. And two, the pie was really good! I even offered him a bite and he didn’t even accept it! Rude!’ 
‘So rude.’ Robin pets at Steve’s head. 
Eddie unsticks himself from the sofa to get another slice of pizza and pass one over to Steve in consolidation. Nodding along to what Steve is saying as it passes through the soup of his brain. 
‘Like I know people like to sleep around and that’s fun and all but why are they so bad at dating?’ He pulls another deep drag of the joint Robin holds for him, chewing a bite of pizza as smoke billows out between his lips. ‘Why does no one want a cute fat boyfriend with great hair? Why do they just see me as a piece of ass?’ He whines, the weed hitting him now. 
‘Because your ass is great babe.’ Robin says, stealing a chunk of his crust. ‘Top tier ass.’ 
He looks up at her with big eyes ‘Yeah?’ 
‘Yeah.’ She smiles at him, pinching his cheek 
‘I want a cute fat boyfriend.’ Eddie sighs, from the other end of the couch. eyes glazed over staring at the muted tv screen, his slice of pizza held untouched in his hand. ‘I’d take him out on nice dates, brush his hair and help him try on pretty clothes. I could kiss his chubby cheeks and cuddle him and call him sweet names..’ He sighs again, finally taking a bite. 
‘You know Eddie, Stevie here on the couch is single.’ Robin says, getting up to go to the kitchen. Leaving the joint in Steve’s mouth. 
Eddie looks at her go. Blinks hard a couple times and looks at Steve. Sprawled out on the couch cushions, belly peaking out of his shirt. His lovely roommate Steve. Cute and fat and silly hot. ‘Maybe I even want to hold his hand as we take a little walk. Maybe I want to take care of him and spoil him and make him feel like the world spins around him. He could get fatter, if he wanted, because i lo-like him so much.' Eddie continues. Confesses. Eyes wide and heart racing.  
Steve’s cheeks are pink, eyes glassy and pretty. ‘Me?’ Steve points at himself, joint between his long fingers, looking at Eddie, looking all over his face. 
‘Yeah.’ he breaths. Matching the dopey smile that spreads over Steve’s face, besotted and beaming. 
-
me and @scoops-aboy86 were talking about this post. so now you all have to read the silliness too xoxo
Tag list (open): @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor
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ageingfangirl2 · 5 months
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I Want A Divorce! Shanks (OPLA)
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You get ill and Shanks offers to do your jobs around the ship, but he gets distracted easily and wants your praise. You love the man-child, but sometimes you have to tell him to actually like his age. Shanks x Reader FLUFF!
'You have a high fever so I'm going to recommend bed rest until it breaks, can't have you getting any worse,' Hongo states, placing a cold cloth on your forehead which was nice in your current state.
You cough, 'I guess I can take it easy Hongo.'
Over Hongo's shoulder, you notice Shanks watching and listening intently to the doctor's orders, 'I'm going to do all your jobs so you just rest up.'
You and Hongo snicker sharing a moment, both of you knowing Shanks wouldn't be able to cope with all that you did around the ship without complaining. Hongo pats your shoulder as he gets up from the bed. Shanks immediately takes his spot, tucking you in. You were the fourth crew member to join and the only female, and had been charmed into dating the notorious red-haired pirate.
'I love you darling but you don't even know half of what I do around here,' you whisper, throat sore.
Shanks puffs out his chest proudly, 'I'm going to make you proud, I'm going to do so good everyone will be begging me to do your jobs instead.'
You smile as he leans down and kisses the cold cloth.
TWO DAYS LATER
Shanks bursts through the doors of his quarters which you shared and throws himself on the bed next to you burying his face in a pillow. He could be an overdramatic diva at times but he was your diva. Before you can say anything Lucky walks in holding a tray of food that makes your mouth water and forget your partner.
'How are you feeling? Hongo said you should eat more fruit so I made you a fruit salad for after your soup.'
Ignoring Shanks who was now mumbling into the pillow you sit up and accept the tray of food and glass of water, 'You're all too good to me Lucky. How are the new guys?'
Lucky shrugs his shoulders, 'confused and maybe a little scared because they follow your instructions which makes captain grumpy.'
You nod, 'I'll talk to him. Thanks for the update.'
Lucky leaves and closes the door behind him. Shanks rolls onto his side and reaches for the fruit salad but you swat his hand away, 'My fruit salad captain.'
Shanks pouts, sticking out his bottom lip and shooting you his best puppy dog eyes, 'Why didn't you tell me what you did? I wouldn't have agreed otherwise. I love you, but dealing with the new crew is tedious.'
Just wait until he found out all the other odd jobs you did to help out the rest of the crew, there was a reason people called you mother hen. You pop a slice of apple in your mouth and sigh, 'What do you want me to do darling? Give you a pat on the back? Feed you a treat, give you a belly rub and call you a good boy? It's not easy but you never back down from a challenge. I know you'll give it your all until I get better.'
Shanks sits up and stops pouting, a look of determination in his eyes, 'You're right I can do this. I'm going to make you proud.'
You scoff as he steals some grapes and jumps off the bed with a new lease of life, you really did have him wrapped around your little finger.
FOUR DAYS LATER
Your fever had come down and you didn't feel like death anymore, but Hongo insisted you stay in bed for a few more days. The crew had bets on Shanks he didn't know about, he'd gotten better at doing your jobs but wasn't great. You promised to stay in bed so the crew could make some money off your partner.
THREE DAYS LATER
You were sat up in bed reading the newspaper feeling much better and enjoying relaxing for once. Shanks walks in and climbs on top of you, lying on you with his full weight, 'I know your secret babe,' he chuckles, head now resting on your chest, eyes locked with yours but he doesn't look upset.
You put the paper down and start running your fingers through his hair, 'Hongo asked me to stay in bed longer, I actually enjoyed not having as many responsibilities, makes a nice change. I'm sorry for deceiving you, Shanks.'
Shanks nuzzles into your hands more enjoying the massage, 'Now I know how much you do I want you to slow down. I'll try and help more when I can, and the crew promised to fix their own problems before coming to you for help babe.'
'Thank you. However, you lying on top of me is making parts of my body fall asleep.'
Shanks smirks, 'I'll wake them up when I need them.'
You throw your head back and laugh at his playful and flirty antics, 'I want a divorce.'
Shanks matches your laughter, 'I'm never letting you go, you mean too much to me. Maybe a few years after the marriage you can talk about a divorce.'
For all the years the two of you had been together you weren't engaged, everyone assumed you were married and the two of you kind of went with the flow. Little did you know Shanks wasn't joking about marriage this time around.
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floatyflowers · 1 month
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Dark!House of The Dragon Men x Reader
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You tried to balance your relationship with the greens and blacks despite being Rhaenyra's daughter.
And it worked.
With Aegon II Targaryen
Both of you are close in age, as you are older then Jace.
Aegon found himself falling for you, due to many factors, not only because you are beautiful.
You are kind, intelligent, and most importantly YOU LISTEN to him.
Both of you spend too much time together with or without your mothers knowledge.
The only time he stood up to his mother is when she spoke about you in a horrid manner, calling you a bastard.
"If you dare speak about her like that ever again, I will go and inform father!"
He later on becomes your betrothed by Viserys' order to unite the house.
With Aemond Targaryen
You never mocked him like his brother and your siblings.
In fact, you became his friend and shared his interest in reading books.
The only one in house Targaryen that he felt connected to is you.
Sometimes you would sneak into his chamber in the middle of the night though the hidden passages to just chat.
So, it's hard for your Targaryen uncle not to fall for you, he even looked past your legitimacy.
You literally stood by his side when Luke took his eye and comforted him.
But hearing your engagement to his older brother made his blood boil, and he took an oath to steal you away.
Especially after claiming Vhagar, he realized he now has the ability to burn down anyone who he finds as a threat to his affection towards you.
"Don't worry, I will protect you, dear niece"
With Jacearys Velaryon
He respects and loves you dearly, you are his role model.
That is why he started to bully Aemond when he saw you pay attention to the silver haired Targaryen more than him.
When puberty hit him, he began to slowly develop feelings for you.
And what increased those feelings is that he heard his mother mention something about marrying you to him.
But all his dreams came crashing down when Viserys' announced that you would wed Aegon.
And when you actually did marry Aegon, and after years where Viserys' held a feast, Jace tried to convince you to return to Dragonstone with him.
The night he got in a fight with Aegon he let out all his fury, even if he promised to behave.
"Annual your marriage to him and marry me instead"
With Ser Criston Cole (Platonic)
He is your biological father.
And he knows that, so unlike his bad treatment towards your mother and siblings, he treated you kindly.
At the age of ten he revealed to you that he is your real father.
At first you didn't believe him, but as you grew older you did begin to realize the truth.
Instead of avoiding him, you decided to be friendly and call him 'father' when you both are alone.
One time, one of the servants accidentally spilled soup on you.
The next day that servant was found dead.
"I'm your father before being the Queen's sworn sword"
With Gwayne Hightower
He flirted with you before your wedding not realizing that you are his nephew's bride.
Gwayne hates Rhaenyra, but the thought of you being her daughter left him in disbelief.
You are nothing like your mother.
Everything about you scream honor, virtue and kindness.
Gwayne even tried to convince you to runaway before it's too late.
"You still have time to not marry Aegon"
Indeed, it's awful to say that about his nephew.
But he cares about your well-being more than Aegon's happiness.
And it really shows during the war.
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By Kitty Werthmann
“I am a witness to history.
“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history.
If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching.
“We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls.
She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers.
“Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.”
No so.
Hitler is welcomed to Austria
“In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates.
Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs.
“My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’
“We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living.
“Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back.
“Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler.
“We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed.
“After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service.
“Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been re- quired to give up for marriage.
“Then we lost religious education for kids
“Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education.
“Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.”
And then things got worse.
“The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free.
“We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had.
“My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination.
“I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing.
“Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler.
“It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy.
“In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death.
“Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men.
“Soon after this, the draft was implemented.
“It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys.
“They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines.
“When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat.
“Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service.
“When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers.
“You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government.
“The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had.
“Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna..
“After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything.
“When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full.
“If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries.
“As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families.
“All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing.
“We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables.
“Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands.
“Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control.
“We had consumer protection, too
“We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it.
“In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated.
“So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work.
“I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van.
“I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months.
“They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness.
“As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia.
“Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily.
“No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up.
“Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.”
“This is my eyewitness account.
“It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity.
“America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away.
“After America, there is no place to go.”
Kitty Werthmann
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andypantsx3 · 4 months
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HOME, SAFE, YOURS : TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER
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CONTENT & WARNINGS: pro hero au, gender neutral reader, established relationship, care-taking, aged-up characters, smut (reader gives shouto a shower handjob), 18+ minors please dni!
WORD COUNT: 2k
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Shouto looks worn as he toes off his boots in the genkan.
It's not the first time your boyfriend has come home looking tired, and it's thankfully nothing like the bone-deep exhaustion that always pulls at him after a truly harrowing shift. But it's very clear Shouto has stretched himself today, judging by the slightly slower, more ginger way he's carrying himself.
Drawing closer, you can see dirt and ash scraped over his high cheekbones, and that much confirms your suspicions. Definitely a tough take down today, if he's looking this beat up.
"Hi Sho," you say, hurrying over to throw your arms around him, relieved to have him back in your hands. It's a little easier with the height the genkan step gives you, putting his broad shoulders in easier reach. "Tough day today?"
Shouto's arms come around you as he presses his face into your shoulder, breathing in deeply. He's cold, the chill from outside still lingering on his clothes, on his skin. He smells like ash and sweat.
"Hello, love," he says, his voice a low rumble you can feel against you. "It was... difficult."
You grip him tighter, holding him to you. "I'm glad you're safe."
His mouth is warm on the skin of your neck. "I am glad to come home to you."
A smile pulls at your mouth as you pet through his hair. It's soft and silky, but a little piecey—the after effect of having used phosphor, you know. You spend a couple moments absently running your fingers through the strands, clinging to as much of his shoulder as you can reach, reveling in the feeling of him back in your embrace, home safe where you like him best.
Shouto lets you hold him, face still pressed into the crook of your neck, the line of tension in his shoulders unwinding. His breath tickles your skin, slow and even. You cling just a little bit more tightly.
"Let's get some soup in you and get you in the shower, huh?" you say after you've stood like that for some minutes, your voice a little startling in the quiet of your apartment. You lightly tug on a hunk of his hair, inquiring.
Shouto doesn't move, just huffs softly into your shoulder.
You can't help but grin again, charmed by him as always, shifting so you can clutch his face in your hands and pull him up for a kiss instead. This time Shouto goes easily, his mouth following yours, his kiss soft and sweet and slow.
Shouto takes his time with you, so you do too, pouring your relief and your happiness to see him again into the kiss. His hands tighten on your back like he understands, hitching you up against him a bit more firmly.
"Soup time," you tell him when he finally lets your mouth go. Those heterochromatic eyes flutter open, and he frowns a little bit, leaning back in.
You smile into another kiss, laughing when his hands creep down your sides, charting a path to your thighs where you know he intends to pick you up once he's got you. Any other day and you'd let him take you against the wall right there in the genkan. But he's moving so slow you know it will be a struggle for him today, and you don't want him to strain himself any more than he already has.
There are other ways you can show your affection, today.
You quickly worm out of his embrace, dodging when he reaches out a long-fingered hand for you, frowning again. Fuck, he's so cute.
"Soup first," you order him, marching him into the kitchen.
A tiny pout purses his mouth but you're not to be deterred—you set him up at the table with a hot bowl of soup and several of last night's leftover sides; blanched spinach ohitashi and simmered squash. You plop an extra bowl of chicken and cucumber marinade directly in front of his soup as well—knowing full well he'll need the extra protein after a day like today.
As you hoped, the food quickly overtakes your boyfriend's focus. In your experience pro heroes need to intake an insane amount of calories, and even more on days they've utilized their quirks to the extreme. Shouto is no exception, his temperature quirk one of the most voracious energy burners of all, and very quickly the bowls in front of him begin to empty.
He looks even more exhausted when he finishes, and you wolf down your own bowl of soup, cutting him off as he attempts to clear the table.
"Go shower," you tell him, leaning down for a kiss even as you yank a bowl out of his long, elegant fingers.
Shouto looks up at you again, a microscopic downturn to his mouth that would be unreadable on anyone else, but on him counts as a pout. "You said after soup—"
"I'll join you when I'm done," you promise, your heart swelling with affection. It always pleases you that time with you seem to be his priority, even when he's clearly tired like this.
You laugh when this works like a charm, Shouto leaning in for another kiss before obeying. You hear the shower gutter and hiss on as you scrub the bowls in the sink, laying everything out to dry on the counter.
The bathroom is already hot and thick with steam when you let yourself in, and the mirror fogging. Shouto's left the curtain askew and your mouth dries out a little at the peeks of his body you can see—all that lean, sleek muscle glinting wetly in the light.
You step out of your clothes and slide in behind him, throwing an arm around his waist. His shoulders look especially broad in the small stall of your shower, taking up nearly the entire width, and you lean up to kiss in between them, letting your mouth linger.
"Hello, love," Shouto says, trying to turn to look at you. You hold him in place with your grip on his trim waist, reaching up to run a hand through the wet strands of his hair.
"Let me take care of you tonight," you say, pouring your insistence into your tone.
There's not much you can do to help Shouto with a job like pro heroics, particularly without a quirk of your own. But what you can do, what you like to do, is be there for him in the little ways—feeding him soup, washing his hair, taking the reigns when he's tired like this.
The contraction of Shouto's abdomen under your fingers as he sucks in a breath tells you he's understood your meaning. He shifts in your arms to face you, ducking in for a hard, wet kiss. Hot water spatters over your shoulder as he does so, pooling in the places where his skin meets yours.
You let him kiss you, slow and careful. Then you reach past him to uncap his shampoo, and rake it carefully through the strands of his hair, as Shouto obligingly keeps his head bent for you. You admire the way his long eyelashes flutter against his high cheekbones, the way his lovely mouth looks so soft and relaxed like this.
You take your time, moving slowly and carefully, before reaching for his conditioner. You slowly massage that in too, blinking against the water on your face when Shouto pulls you closer to him, pressing his face into your shoulder and huffing out another relaxed breath.
He could be asleep standing up by the time you move onto his his body wash, but he shivers as you run your hands over him. You love the feeling of him in your hands, all that slick, tight, dense muscle under your fingers.
He's so beautiful, so divinely-crafted. Sometimes you cannot believe Todoroki Shouto is yours to love and to care for.
His breath comes a little faster when your hands slide down his trim waist, as you work the suds into the V of his hips. "Love," he says, his voice low, rumbling.
"Turn around," you tell him, gently reaching up to move him as you do so.
You let your hands slide back in place, and then let them slip lower, taking Shouto into your hand. He's velvet soft in your fingers, but obligingly hard, thick and full—and even though you can't see him, you know just how pretty he looks in your palm. You press a kiss to his shoulder blade as he shudders, a powerful arm coming up to prop himself up against the shower wall.
You work him slowly at first, just as carefully as you'd pulled the shampoo through his hair. The flex of his abs against the palm of your other hand is transfixing, the shine and glint of the light over his muscles as he shifts in your fingers hypnotizing. Both of you linger in the moment, letting it stretch out long and hot and sweet, thick and slow like honey.
Shouto lets out a low groan when you thumb over the head of his cock, the arm he has pressed to the wall tensing. You do it again, reveling in the flex of his bicep, the roll of a powerful shoulder.
Shouto is the only person on earth as beautiful on the outside as he is on the inside, and you drink it all in, the sight of him, the beautiful sound of him as he utters your name, low and smooth and thick with feeling.
You keep pumping him like that, exactly how you know he likes, until he strains in your hands, that trim waist flexing as he can't help but rut into your grip.
One of your arms clutches him tighter against you as work him faster, and he lets out a soft moan, his fingers curling into a fist on the shower wall. It's only a minute or so more before he's arching into your hand, his hips bucking.
You tighten your fingers, thumbing over his head again, and that's all it takes. Shouto groans your name into the hiss of the shower spray, and comes all over your palm, every muscle in his body straining forwards.
He's so beautiful as he comes apart in your hands. His chest is heaving when you finally stop, and he shifts in your arms again, ducking his head to press an exhausted, satisfied kiss to your mouth.
"Thank you, love," he intones, those heterochromatic eyes settling on you, dark with pleasure. Pink stains his high cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, and he looks flush with effort, exactly the way he does after he takes you apart in bed most nights.
You grin up at him, leaning up on your toes to press another kiss to his mouth. "I love you, Sho."
He murmurs his reply into your mouth, and you run your hands over him again, pulling through his wet locks.
"Now let's get you into bed," you tell him bossily, reaching past him to turn off the shower spray.
"What about you, love?" he asks, a little frown marring his perfect mouth. You kiss it off of him, then tug him out of the shower and wrap him in a fluffy towel, scrubbing it over his hair.
You'll get back in to take your own shower properly in the morning, you know, and once Shouto has slept things off, he will be eager to return the favor. For now though, you tell him you are satisfied just to be with him, to be near him, to take care of him.
You tell him you love him again, and pull him into bed, still damp and sweet and pliant with his release. You're satisfied as he melts into sleep, his exhaustion winning out.
Truthfully, there is nothing more you want in this life, you think, as you follow after him, slipping into slumber too. You want him like this always, relaxed in your embrace—home, safe, yours.
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Happy New Year from me!! I wanted to give you one more Shouto before the year was out. Thank you guys so much for everything this year. I am continually grateful to be a part of this community, and I will work hard to learn more and give you my best in 2024!!
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lightseoul · 10 months
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you're losing me
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synopsis. bakugou proposes to you. you give him an unexpected response.
cw. gn!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged up (28 yrs old), some cussing
word count. 2.5k words
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“Where is everybody?”
You ask as you look around the barren restaurant, which, on most days, is jampacked with high-profile customers. How Bakugou was able to get you both a table is beyond you.
“Don’t mind ‘em,” he says before dipping down to finish the rest of his soup. “They’re just a bunch of extras anyway.”
You merely hum in response.
A moment passes with the both of you finishing your appetizers when a question dawns on you.
“By the way,” you start, “what’s the occasion, Kats?”
At that, he frowns. “What, you’re saying I can’t treat my partner whenever I feel like it?”
You snort. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that we don’t usually opt for extremely overpriced restaurants.”
You gesture to your evening gown and his suit. “We don’t usually dress up either.”
“Yeah, well. Just go with it, okay?”
You stare at him for a beat before deciding to let it go.
“Okay.”
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You’re down to the last bite of your dessert when Bakugou clears his throat. You look up, only to be met with the familiar expression of nervousness decorating his features.
It’s how he looked at you back when he first asked you out three years ago.
“You alright?” you ask.
He nods, “Peachy. Just need to tell you something.”
Almost instantaneously, your heart picks up its pace. You brace yourself for bad news.
“What is it?”
At your query, Bakugou suddenly stands up and circles your table, stopping right in front of you.
And before you could even comprehend what’s happening, he’s already on one knee, holding a small velvet box.
“Y/N.”
At the mention of your name, your heart doubles up its pace.
He continues, but your head is pulsing and your ears throbbing so loudly that you can barely make out the speech he’s currently giving you. You feel lightheaded, as well as the tears welling up in your eyes, clouding your vision.
He sounds uncharacteristically shy when he finally says, “Will you marry me?”
That’s the last thing you hear before you black out.
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You’re met with a blinding white light when you come to.
You strain to sit up in order to look around, the movement causing Bakugou, who is on a stool beside your bed, to stir awake.
“Hey,” he says gently. “Take it easy.”
Robbed of all words, you nod, taking heed and slowly lifting yourself up into a seated position.
“Where am I?” you ask.
“The nearest hospital from the restaurant,” he explains. “You fainted.”
“Seriously?”
He nods, face stern. “Thankfully I was able to catch you before your head could hit the ground. We just need to run a few more tests before you get cleared for discharge.”
And with that, the elephant in the room remains as evident as ever.
“Look, Kats,” you start, “about earlier—”
“Let’s not talk about it right now,” he cuts you off. “Come on, let’s get you ready for discharge.”
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You barely catch him before he goes to work the next day.
Bakugou’s not a morning person—you found out about that a week into dating him when you noticed how curt his messages were in the mornings—yet he’s now up at 6:24 AM, darting in and out of the rooms in your shared apartment, getting ready for the day.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s rushing to leave.
“You’re awake,” you say lamely as you enter the living room.
He grunts in response, attention directed to the duffel bag he always brings to the office on patrol days.
You want to ask him why he’s up this early, but ultimately decide against it. Instead, you say: “Did you pack your lunch already?”
“Yeah,” he gestures to his bag, “It’s in here.”
“Okay.”
You stand awkwardly by the door as you watch him zip his bag and adjust his civilian clothes that would be swapped in for his winter costume later.
He then walks up to you and presses a kiss on your forehead—so tentatively it makes you ache.
Since when did he get so hesitant with you?
“I’ll go then,” he announces.
And before you know it, the front door shuts, his perfume leaving a nostalgic fragrance in its trail.
Only then do you realize that I love you’s were not exchanged.
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The days after are unremarkably the same.
He’s been getting up extra early so that by the time you wake up, he’s already on his way to the agency.
On top of that, he’s starting to work overtime now, too.
Lately, he’s been arriving home as late as almost midnight.
You try to wait up for him—you really do—but with your own work to get to the following mornings, you just couldn’t sustain that arrangement.
And so you rarely see him.
But to your relief, despite everything that’s gone wrong with Bakugou since the night he proposed, you still fall on the same bed at the end of the day.
Albeit his back is turned against you. Still, you’re grateful. There’s a certain comfort that blankets you whenever you’re near Bakugou, and that hasn’t changed one bit.
Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, you mirror him, your back now facing his.
Which is why you don’t notice it until you hear a gasp.
Propping yourself up on your elbow, you look at Bakugou, who’s now sitting upright, chest heaving.
Quickly, you rouse yourself, facing him. “What’s wrong?”
He inhales deeply as his eyes dart towards you, beads of sweat now decorating his forehead.
“Nightmare,” he croaks.
At that, you grab his ice-cold hands, squeezing them in yours. “Do you want to talk about it?”
A beat passes before he reluctantly shakes his head. “It’s just the usual.”
The usual. Being held hostage by that monster, getting kidnapped, being responsible for All Might’s—
“It doesn’t matter if it’s new or not,” you retort, squeezing his hands again in an attempt to anchor him to reality. “I’m here to listen, alright?”
Bakugou hesitates for a second before nodding, a pained expression written across his face.
He starts to lean in closer, probably to drop his head at the crook of your neck like he usually does when plagued with nightmares, before hesitating and leaning back.
“Okay.”
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The next morning, you wake up not only to an empty bed, but an empty house.
Still half asleep, you trudge your way toward the kitchen, where a bento box is sitting on the island. On top of it is a sticky note that reads:
Going out w the guys after shift. Don’t wait up.
Your heart sinks at the thought of not being able to see Bakugou for the day.
Still, maybe he needs this night out.
You wouldn’t want to spend time with the person who rejected you either.
With a heavy heart, you get ready for the day yourself.
Work is the least of your concerns this morning, but you figure you have to go. You could use some distraction to take your mind off your crumbling relationship.
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You’re in your bed reading that non-fiction you’ve been putting off for a while now when your phone rings.
You reach for your phone, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Kirishima’s caller ID.
Huh.
You press the green button after a few seconds of letting it ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, Y/N!” a cheery voice greets you. “This is Kirishima.”
“Hey, Ei,” you start, weirdly nervous. “How are you and the rest of the squad?”
“Actually, that’s why I called you. Can you pick Bakugou up? He’s so drunk.”
Your Katsuki? Drunk?
For some reason, the idea of talking to a drunk Bakugou, who also happens to be the bluntest version of himself, elicits an unpleasant feeling in your gut.
“Really?” you ask, voice small. “How much did he drink?”
“Not a lot, but the alcohol percentage of the ones he downed are pretty high.”
When you don’t respond for a while, he pipes up with: “Y/N?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
Kirishima sounds unsure when he asks, “Is everything okay with you guys?”
“Yes, Ei.” No, Ei. I inadvertently rejected his marriage proposal.
“Okay, that’s good to hear,” he starts. “It’s just that he barely mentioned you when he was still sober—which is a rare occurrence, if you only knew. He only started calling for you when he was three glasses in.”
Despite yourself, your stomach flips in delight. He’s still thinking about me, you think to yourself.
“Anyway, as I was saying, are you good to fetch him?”
“Yes,” you stand up and grab for your keys. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”
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You’re situating the car in your designated parking space when Bakugou finally stirs awake.
Once you’re parked, you turn off the engine before you reach over the console to unfasten his seatbelt. Yours follows shortly after.
You look at him, whose eyes are still closed.
“We’re here, Kats.”
At the sound of your voice, his eyes shoot open and he examines his environment, alarmed. Once he catches sight of you, though, he visibly relaxes.
Only to straighten up in his seat, stiff and unable to look you in the eye.
“You didn’t have to, uh,” he stammers, struggling to formulate coherent sentences. “Get me. You didn’t have to get me.”
You shoot him a small smile. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
He doesn’t say anything after that, eyes trained on your car’s windshield.
A moment passes before he speaks again.
“My mom made me do it, you know.”
You stare at his side profile. “Made you do what?”
“Propose to you.”
“Oh.”
He shakes his head, almost in disagreement. “The old hag really wants me to get married. I told her we didn’t have to get married because we’re happy the way things are and that shit is just for formality. Told me I’d be missing out on you wearing a wedding dress.”
You snort, “That’s what convinced you to ask me?”
He grins. “Nah. I just realized I wanted to get married if it was to you.”
Before you can even react, Bakugou shifts in his seat, breaking eye contact.
“It was stupid of me, though.”
Your stomach drops in anticipatory dread. “Stupid of you to what?”
He chuckles, although he seems anything but happy. “Was stupid of me to think someone like you would say yes to someone like me.
“I—” he stutters, “I wouldn’t marry me either.”
Your eyebrows furrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He sighs, “Just…who the fuck do I think am, proposing to you? I was a horrible person who fucked things up so many times growing up. Maybe this is karma biting me back in the ass.”
“Katsuki.”
“You can do way be—”
“Katsuki!”
He jerks his head to face you, bewildered and eyes glassy.
You reach over the console to hold his scarred hand, staring him down.
“Look at me.”
He does so.
“You’re not that person anymore, alright?” You squeeze his hand, “Please don’t do this to yourself.”
Under the intensity of your gaze, Bakugou can only nod in affirmation before you engulf him in your first hug in what feels like weeks.
“Come on,” you say when you finally part, “Let’s get you ready for bed.”
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Bakugou sleeps like a baby by your side that night. Meanwhile, you stay up until the wee hours of the morning, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.
He thinks you don’t want to marry him.
Your heart aches at the very thought of him grappling with the most false of all statements.
You want to marry him, you really do, but all your fears suddenly rose to the surface and enveloped you the second he went on one knee.
And that’s what you’re planning to confess to him tonight.
You wait, wrapped in the thickest jacket you own, seated on the bench for Bakugou to come. You left him a note alongside his bento box earlier this morning—a note that says to meet you at the indicated address.
Lost in your thoughts and in your internal monologue, you startle when somebody sits next to you.
You look to your right, only to see Bakugou in his thickest jacket, a gray beanie covering his ash blonde locks, cheeks pink from the cold.
“Do you remember this place?” you ask, voice quiet.
He scoffs, “Of course I do, dumbass.”
At that, you chuckle. “This is where we had our first date.”
He grunts in agreement. He doesn’t say anything after that.
A few seconds pass before he finally pipes up with: “So why did you bring me here?”
Your heart’s pace quickens at the query.
You gulp, although your voice still ends up shaky. “I wanted to apologize.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
You shake your head, “You don’t understand.”
He chuckles, that same one that translates to anything but happiness. “I think I do. You don’t want to marry me, I get it.”
“No,” you say, voice louder. “I want to marry you.”
At your admission, Bakugou turns to look you in the eye. The hopeful expression on his face is staggering, you want to curl up into a ball and cry. “What?”
“I said,” you repeat, “I want to marry you.”
His eyebrows furrow. “Then why have you been acting like you don’t?”
At his question, you can’t help but clench your eyes closed. This is too much, you think to yourself, but you owe Bakugou the truth.
“I’m just scared, Kats. Truly. I—” you stammer, “I just can’t shake off the fear of losing you one day. And I know your capabilities and I know how hard you work. Just that—I don’t know. The fear of seeing you killed one day is paralyzing.”
Bakugou reaches out to you, and you let him wipe away the tears that are now falling down your cheeks.
“I’m scared, too,” he offers. “But I don’t know.”
He shakes his head, “I’m more scared of not being with you.”
At his confession, you can’t help but smile. “I think that’s how I feel, too.”
You rest your head on Bakugou’s shoulder, your hand in his. You stay like that for a few minutes before you pull away and turn to regard him again.
“Can we start over?” you ask, “I want to propose to you soon.”
Bakugou smirks, nothing but elation on his face. He takes your other hand and squeezes it.
“Not if I propose to you first.”
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tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19
as always, reblogs, comments, and tags are appreciated <3
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m1d-45 · 10 months
Text
dead leaves
summary: the creator is meant to be worshipped and praised, exalted to the highest of high. so… what went wrong?
word count: 1.2k
-> warnings: mentions of blood, you die multiple times, bitter(?) ending, spoilers for xiao lore (but it’s not said to be xiao specifically so technically you could read and just not know it’s him but now that i’ve said that you know it’s him so-)
-> gn reader (you/yours)
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me
< masterlist > || next >
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it wasn’t meant to happen like this.
it was never to occur at all, in fairness, but like this?
the clouds parted to make way for a single glitering star, shining a white hot gold. the whole world turned, stopped and stared in awe, every leaf on every stalk bearing witness to the one they called god.
it wasn’t supposed to be like this. the golden shine poured through the tall windows of a palace meant for you, the heretic in a crown ordering your people to betray you. their hands shook where their followers could not see—perhaps even they were aware of why the trees were rejoicing.
you, blessed you, torn from your home by the divinity in your blood, picking yourself up from sand with barely a vague memory of your location. walk, climb, walk again, and that’s where you learned how to swim, led on by the crumbling stone of barbatos’ statue. the squirrels chittered and the hilichurls retreated, not wanting to frighten you, bandaged hands seeking shields and clubs to keep busy instead.
mondstat is the nation of anemo. happy and bustling, merchants calling across courtyards, adventurers waking with the sun to continue their trade. a cool breeze welcomed you, tugging you along a stone bridge, the winds quiet.
so quiet, in fact, that the archon stirred from his slumber early, reaching for his bow.
you never even made it to the city gates. the doves on the bridge hopped closer as you approached, the knights on duty watching how eagerly they pressed themselves against you. a nod, a twist, a chain of knights leading up to the headquarters, all set on edge the moment the acting grandmaster cleared them to engage.
the first casualty was a bird. it had flung itself into the air, halting the arrow in its tracks, drawing your attention to the man standing atop the city wall. another bird died before you understood his crime.
leaves dappled the ground in shades of green, warm light falling on you as you ran. you didn’t know where you were going, really, and why would you? who had a contingency plan for when everyone they loved turned away? the river tumbled over smoothed rocks, the bright beacon of the statue of the seven pleading for forgiveness even as it’s archon wanted you dead.
mondstat was the city of freedom. could it still be called that when you bled out before you could reach the border?
you couldn’t die. literally, you couldn’t. ley lines converged where you were crossed, absorbing the dissipating flakes of your physical body. the earth hummed beneath the anemo archon’s feet as he watched divine blue blood be sucked up and swept away. was it a hallucination? how would he know?
elemental energy coursed through the earth, sprouting again at the geo through which it bled, releasing the holy light it carried and supplementing with its own. within the hour your eyes opened again, unsure whether to pray it was a dream or wonder which god could hear you.
liyue, nation of geo. the stone hummed beneath your feet, though you didn’t walk toward the city. you’d learned your lesson fast, and a spear to the gut would certainly take longer to kill than an arrow to the neck. not that it mattered, of course—the adepti are too in tune with the land to not have noticed your arrival.
as it turned out a spear does hurt more, which you learned when you found it sprouting from your stomach in the split second before the pain hit. bright jade stained blue, betrayal glimpsed in the dying eyes of the one alatus once called his savior.
and it began anew.
teyvat bubbled with anger, torn between enacting vengeance on those that hurt its maker and protecting you. you were taken to places of shelter, but people learned to follow where nature raged loudest. even if they didn’t, if storms kicked up in false alarm to draw them away, intuition toward their creator was sewn into the hems of every living creature. hilichurls could only hold up for so long, and the millelith were used to dealing with vishaps. the dense forests of sumeru were memorized by the most vigilant forest watcher, the consecrated beasts in the desert too big to keep up with the agility of the general mahamatra.
how cruel for you to die like this, at the hands of the ones you should have been able to trust. how cruel for you to die at all, stabbed in the back by those who should have worshipped you.
the one on your throne was tolerated, just barely so, rationalized as the people needing an idol to follow in your continued absence. but now you were here, now they had no reason to be, and visions began to go haywire whenever they entered the throne room. boars outran hunters, trees tangling over boots as nature wrought vengeance on behalf of its god.
you were everything.
every scholar sought to understood your world further, your spirit found in every star in the sky. to study the world was to study you, how every string was woven into the universe. when you looked to the earth the soil said hello, the trees bowing before their creator, and yet your most beloved artwork was the one that hated you the most. was it hubristic to think a mortal could truly kill a god, or pathetic that they believed the fraud so quickly? they didn’t have elemental energy buzzing at their fingertips, they didn’t have the respect of the world, only commanding people, those easily swayed by a similar face and lucky coincidences. they were nothing like you, you who held galaxies in your blood, you who created the sky and the seas and the creatures within, who created everything. who was everything.
…and now you were nothing. lost in the ley lines that frantically searched for a place to host your body, outrunning the hunt for the god of all. nothing, half conscious in the heart of the earth, within a cave that had cracked open for this very purpose. hidden, the entrance sealed by stone itself, only allowing in slimes that helped sustain you. how cruel, the skies wept, torrents of rain falling in punishment. the fraud barely left the palace anymore, which was only standing thanks to reinforcement from the geo archon. were it not for their lie, they would be dead a thousand times over, killed in every way you had.
but they were in the palace, hidden where the world could not reach. so stone cradled your body, carefully ensuring you still continued to breathe, leylines redirecting to offer energy. not awake, not asleep, stuck in a stasis while hell raged around you.
it’s alright. teyvat would have its revenge eventually. lightning would find its way into the palace, someone would bring something carrying elemental energy into the throne room, something. the fake would die and you would be born anew from the earth, weak and tired but alive, most importantly.
anemo brushes off dust that begins to settle in your clothes, hydro doing its best to soothe the cracks on your lips. geo rolls you over so you don’t bruise, dendro adjusting its net of vines to keep you stable.
eventually…
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skipper1331 · 6 months
Text
Sick and taking care // Ona Batlle
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a/n: based off this request. Sorry, it’s kinda short!
Rapid knocking on your front door woke you up.
You hoped the knocking would just stop but it didn’t - it only got louder and more penetrating. With a groan, you got out of bed, head pounding, nose and cheeks red yet still looking pale.
"Hello?" you opened the door, wearing a big hoodie, fluffy socks and a blanket wrapped around your body.
You felt awful. The whole night you‘d been throwing up, sneezes and coughs leaving your throat every 2 minutes as your nose ran uncontrollably.
"Hi" the defender rushed out, entering your home with a bowl in her hand, "Ale told me you‘re not feeling well"
A sneeze left your body, signaling the brunette that you were indeed sick. "Is this why you didn’t answer my texts?- doesn‘t matter. I made you soup"
"Ona, what‘re you doing?" you asked as she walked around your home like she owned it. "Taking care of you" she smiled, gently guiding you to the couch. Placing a pillow under your head she made sure you were comfortable as she covered every inch downwards your head with the blanket.
"I‘ll heat up the soup" she stated as she walked in the kitchen, your exhausted body laying the couch. It didn‘t take long for to you to doze off and eventually to fall in a deep slumber. When she saw your sleeping figure on the couch, she turned around halfway and brought the soup back into the kitchen. Instead she cleaned around the house, throwing away the takeout box and filled the dishwasher.
After she had cleaned around a little, she took a seat at the end of the couch, scrolling through her phone mindlessly, every now and then looking at you - getting lost in your beauty (you still looked stunning even though you were sick)
An hour later, you woke up again, brown eyes staring at you as you slowly sat up. Nasty coughs escaped your throat and Ona was quick to hand you a glass of water. You refused as you weren‘t the biggest fan of tap water. "Amor, drink" she pushed your legs gently off as she scooted closer, the glass in her hand. "Small sips" she demanded in a tone of voice that would have made you do anything she wanted. You drank a few sips - not too much yet enough for Ona to accept it.
"Did you eat anything today?"
You shook your head as it fell against Onas shoulder, "not hungry" you mumbled.
"At least try the soup? It‘s mamás recipe" her hand went to the back of your head, scratching it gently as you nodded softly, lifting your head.
-
The sweet heart Ona was, she took the spoon in her hand, guiding it to your mouth as you sipped it. It wasn‘t to hot nor to cold - it was perfect. Like Ona, you thought.
The two of you danced around your feelings ever since you met one another. You started off as team mates, then friends and now best friends, even if the both of you wanted more than just being friends. While Ona had thought about confessing her feelings, you admired in your own little world. She never did confess her feelings though, never the right time to do so.
After a while, the bowl was empty, your eyelids heavy as again many coughs left your throat, nose running.
Ona grumbled as she felt your forehead, "your fever still hasn‘t gone down"
In responds, you just shrugged your shoulders, why would she care? It was weird that she was here anyways, and taking care of you. You used to be on your own, fight every illness on your own, every unwell-being.
It used to be you against the world.
So why was she here?
"Let‘s get you to bed" in your thoughts, you obliged, following her into your bedroom. "Lay down" she ordered, softly - you did as she wished. She tucked you in, making sure you were safely wrapped up in the blanket as she sat beside you, "I'm going to go to the pharmacy and get a few things for you."
"why are you doing this?"
Confused, she looked at you, "What? Doing what?"
"This," you pulled your arm out of her burrito-blanket-wrap, gesticulating around your room, her and yourself, "taking care of me"
"Well, you‘re sick" she replied, not looking you in the eyes.
"Ona…"
"You‘re my friend" her brows furrowed, unintentionally, something they only did the way they did now when she was lying.
"a friend?" you asked, your own heart slightly hurt at her saying. Friends? Friends.
"no…much more than that, actually" she whispered, closing her eyes as she inhaled sharply. Was this the right time to confess? It didn’t matter, she did it anyway - it just bubbled out of her, not much thoughts behind her answer.
Since years, you were more than just a friend to her.
You were everything,
the person who would never judge her,
the girl who supported her unconditionally,
the lover she never had.
Your hand found her thigh as you sat up, "look at me" you demanded - she did.
"more than a friend?"
Were you making fun of her? Why would you do that? She felt vulnerable, exposed. Hurt flashed through her body, "if you don‘t feel the same just say it but don‘t make fun of me" she scowled, about to get up. "I‘m not making fun of you!" you rasped, trying to clear your throat, a bunch of coughs leaving your body. The defender was quick to hold up a glass of water as you drank it in a matter of seconds. Your whole face was red, eyes glossy as you tried to gargle away the ache in your throat. When the water was swallowed, you spoke again, "I’m not used to have someone to take care of me"
With one hand, she cupped your cheek, thumb caressing over it as she whispered, "if you let me, you‘ll forever have someone"
A wide smile covered on your face, heart swooning at her statement. Forever was long but with Ona not long enough.
"I would kiss you right now if I wasn‘t sick" you laughed, always straightforward.
"Well, I’m taking care of you, you‘ll be well again soon - I’ll wait" she winked, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
She left the room shortly after, ready to get you some medicine. Her thoughts were consumed by you, you kissing her, you wanting to kiss her. Subconsciously, her steps to the pharmacy became faster and faster, she couldn't wait for you to get well again.
——————
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