#These next few days are gonna be so stressful and anxiety ridden for me. I just wish I could like... Fast forward to next week. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mannaima · 2 years

Note

ohh man could you do something with eddie and nonconsensual cunnilingus?? like he teases you for not wanting it yet your pussy is twitching and drooling on his tongue. if you do this I owe you my life 🙏

new girl in town

Summary: you’re a newbie to school and you want something to ease your stress, Eddie has a few things in mind.

Pairing: Dark! Eddie Munson x fem! Reader

WC: 3K

Warnings: Noncon, kinda ooc Eddie, coercion, drugging (eddie gets you high to make u vulnerable)

notes: Hi guys!! im gonna try to post everyday, maybe not long-ish fics like this and homesick, but ill try to post some drabbles, inbox is open!!!

It didn’t feel real, one day you were with your best friends, playing in the fall leaves and watching movies, having the time of your life. Next, you were in a completely new state with no friends and a new, unfamiliar school. The nervousness of it all made you sick as you stepped into the cold building. Why did your parents have to move the last semester of your senior year, why couldn’t you just stay for a few more months. You sighed as you walked to your first period, the room number on a crumpled piece of paper you had gotten the day prior, you just had to start immediately, you had barely even moved in fully. You had walked in the classroom, your history class to be specific, and saw everyone conversing and looking entertained. The thought of them thinking you were strange put anxiety on your shoulders.

“Excuse me miss, are you the new student?” You had turned to face the teacher, who was speaking to you softly. Once you nodded, he smiled and told you to sit in the back right, right by the windows, to which you thanked him and began to walk. You were thankful he didn’t make you introduce yourself to the class, that would’ve caused an extra wave of anxiety to wash over you. The bell rang and you shakily brought out your notebook. You just wanted to be home right now.

A body slipped in the chair right next to you, and he locked his eyes onto your figure. He looked friendly enough, but he was slightly off putting. Maybe it was the messy long hair, the t-shirt with a devil man on it, or the tattoos around his arms, you hadn’t seen anybody like him before. You gave a small smile and a wave before you turned back to pay attention to the lecturing teacher. Out of the corner of your eye, though, you could sense him staring at you still.

“I don’t recognize you. Are you new?“ his voice was excited, which you thought was sweet, maybe he was just a friendly guy overall.

“U-Uh yeah. I just moved here. A f-few days ago.” You said in a whispered tone, not wanting the teacher to make a bad impression. He smiled and slouched back in his seat, fiddling with his pencil.

“Thought so. You seem out of place.” Oh great, that eased your anxiety by sooo much. Your faces morphed into an expression of cringe almost.

“Well, not like that. Just, you seem very stressed. Don’t worry, I don’t bite, but that doesn’t mean you can trust any old person in Hawkins. Us outsiders gotta stick together, yeah?” His tone made it seem sweet, but it felt slightly insulting to be called an outsider, but it was the cold truth. You had an awkward smile and nodded, turning to listen to the lecture.

He didn’t bother you for the rest of the class.

———

The next few classes weren’t as eventful as the first, everyone pretty much ignored you. You didn’t blame them, you were anxiety ridden and everyone had their own cliques by now, hell it was already January. But the next class you dreaded most wasn’t even a class, rather, it was lunch period. You walked in, opting to grab some soda from the vending machine rather than eat the school food. You didn’t want to feel more sick than you already did.

“Hey, you, new girl!” A voice screamed at you from across the lunch room, which made a few heads turn, but nothing to make you the center of attention. You looked in the direction of the sound to see the boy from your history class.

“Come sit with us!!!” You winced, you didn’t want to sit with him, you wanted to be alone and mourn the loss of your friends, but this could be an opportunity to make some new ones. You could wallow in sadness forever. So you hit your tongue and walked to the group of mostly boys in the lunchroom, and Eddie scooted to the side, patting the seat next to him.

“I didn’t get your name. I'm Eddie by the way, President of the Hellfire Club, aka the best club on campus!” This caused chuckles from the boys and a punch to the shoulder from the guy sitting next to him. After introducing yourself, Eddie began talking about something called DnD. You were confused, but you listened as you stared at your drink, taking a sip every couple minutes. He tried to make you feel comfortable, even putting his arm around you while asking you a question about your classes, but you still felt tense.

“Hey, how about me and you hang out after school? I can get in more depth about this town, even drive you around. Meet me at the front of the school. Sounds good?” He got super close for this, making sure it was a personal invitation for you and him only. You felt your cheeks redden from the distance between you two before you nodded. He smiled and patted you on the back, before continuing to talk about dungeons and creatures to his friends.

You couldn’t wait.

———

You waited where he said, watching all the students leave the school, laughing and giggling, having fun. You have a small smile, it reminds you of your friends. You wish you could make friends already, but you have to put a little time and effort into it.

“Hey Y/N!” You turned to see Eddie walking to you, a smile on his face, to which you returned the favor.

“Hi Eddie.” You felt slightly shy around him, he was practically a stranger still.

“Let’s get into my car, I’ll take you someplace cool!” You nodded and he began to lead you to his vehicle. Once you arrived, he opened the door for you, which made you smile at his manners. As you sat down, his door slammed shut, key already in the ignition.

“Alright, so I can tell you got a lot of anxiety on ya. Well I got just the cure for that.” He reached into his pocket, fishing around for a bit and held out a baggie of weed. Your eyes widened a bit, shocked at his nonchalant nature of just bringing out drugs.

“W-woah. Drugs? I-im not sure if that’s right-“

“It’s not drugs, it’s just weed! It’ll help you feel relaxed, it’s indica.”

“Well, weed is a drug. Besides, I’ve never smoked, what if I overdose or something?” He just responded with a laugh, smacking the steering wheel as he began to back up to leave the school parking lot.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna take you to my place to try it out. I’ve smoked more times than I care to count, so I’ll take care of you. Then we can drive around town, deal?” He seemed like he knew what he was doing, but you were still slightly worried, you didn’t want to get in trouble or anything.

———

The drive was short lived, you arrived at a trailer park and your anxiety wasn’t eased. You knew there was nothing wrong with living in a trailer home, but you hoped the inside looked better than the outside.

“Home sweet home! You can put your backpack anywhere, I'm gonna go get the stuff.” As he opened the door and let you inside, you were sorta relieved that it wasn’t completely disgusting inside. It seemed lived in, which was nice and comforting. Eddie had come back very quickly and brought back some small metal tray and some thin papers. You watched as he took a seat by the kitchen and began to crush the weed and stuff it inside the thin papers. Staying silent the entire time, you didn’t want to bother him and break his concentration.

“Alright, you’re gonna follow me ok? Just put it to your lips, take a medium breath and let it fill your lungs, keep them very open, yeah?” He took a breath in of the lit joint to show you how it’s done, he held his breath for a few seconds before he let out a cloud of smoke. He handed the weed to you, making you nervously pick it up.

“Alright, don’t worry, it’s normal to be nervous your first time! Just do what I did, breathe deep.” You followed his instructions, but as soon as the smoke hit your throat, you began a fit of coughing, causing him to laugh with you as you pulled the joint away from you. Your eyes began to well with tears as you coughed and coughed, the pain making you dizzy.

“Oh I remember the days I used to react to weed like that. It’s alright, everyone coughs like crazy the first time. Keep trying.” He pushed the blunt back to you, to which you hesitantly took another hit off, you coughed again, but not as much as the first time.

“Keep going, that’s not nearly enough to get you high.” Unbeknownst to you, he was lying off his ass. He made sure he used his strongest strain of Indica, a few puffs got him higher than a kite, so the amount you took was plenty. But he saw the way your jeans hugged your hips as you walked in the halls, or the way you looked so innocent and sad. He knew you were vulnerable, you were alone in a new town, no friends except your parents, and you shook like a wet dog constantly. He knew he could make you into his personal little play thing, you were just too cute to pass up.

After lots of hits, you felt all the weed hit you at once. You started thinking too hard about the feeling of your pants against your skin, the way Eddie’s shirt was detailed, you just kept staring at the things in front of you. You didn’t even notice how long you were zoning out for, because Eddie had been shaking you.

“Y/N? Are you ok?” He was on his knees, as you were both on the floor now. You looked up at him and licked your lips, your mouth dry as a desert.

“I-I think I’m high.” Your voice sounded like it came out of a different person, but you knew it was you. You didn’t feel good, everything felt like an echo, unreal. But you started to feel a little better as the seconds went on, the tension in your shoulders and back made you relax a little, and your eyes drooped low.

“Do you feel good?” He began to rub your back as you nodded, you felt so relaxed you could sleep right then and there. He giggled and got up, which left you alone with your thoughts.

Why were you so nervous about coming here? This was great! You already made a friend, and he has a whole friend group you could interact with. The first day, he felt close enough to you to invite you to his house and show you weed, he’s even gonna show you the town! Your mind analyzed your anxiety and feelings, while Eddie was getting you a glass of water.

“Here, this should help with the dry mouth you’re probably experiencing.” He handed you a glass, which made the already giant smile on your face even bigger, in reality you looked a little silly, but to him you looked so adorable. He needed to take his chance before your high ended.

“C’mere cute stuff, let’s go to my room, you can lay in my bed, we can listen to some music, it’ll make you feel good.” You nodded as you sipped on the drink, his arms lifting you up and you giggled into the water, everything seemed funny to you. He led you into his room, but to you, you were there in a blink of an eye. You lay on the bed, which felt like the most comfy thing in the world to you, like you were constantly sinking in. You were just giggling to yourself, and he watched you on the other side. Your eyes suddenly shifted to him and you turned your whole body to face him.

“This feels good hehe, thank you for giving it to me.” Your words slipped off your tongue, and it was a little hard to speak, but he nodded and looked into your eyes very deeply. Your gaze never left his before he let out a small curse and got on top of you as you blinked. You stared at him before he leaned over to kiss you, his tongue slipping in your dry mouth as you slowly shut your eyes. His crotch was digging into yours, it felt weird, not in a bad way, but you weren’t ready for this.

“Mmm, I don’t let any pretty girl smoke my shit for free, you know that? Pretty girls like you still have to pay.” You tilted your head a little and you giggled.

“I have five dollars in my bag.” He laughed and leaned into your neck, breathing in your perfume.

“I think I know another way you could pay.” Another blink, and he was over your crotch, face pressed against your jeans as he breathed in deeply, which you found a little odd. Another blink, and your pants and panties were off, the cold air hitting your Pusey directly, which made you wince.

“It feels so good to orgasm when you're high, you know that? Your body is so sensitive, it’s gonna feel amazing.” He started to lick your clit, and you immediately closed your eyes and arched your back, a long moan leaving your lips. It felt like pure ecstasy, you couldn’t handle it. His licks became frequent until he began to suck on your clit. You were almost paralyzed, you couldn’t move due to the pure pleasure. He had used some spit to slowly finger you, which sent you over the edge. Despite the dryness in your mouth, you had a dribble of drool leaving your lips as your mind was caught in pure bliss. His lips were enclosed around your lips, your clit being suckled on, making a mess of you.

The loss of sensation was followed by his voice. “Feels good baby?” You nodded, but something felt off. Your pleasure was suddenly non-existent, even though his lips were still on you. You felt dread, sickness, and embarrassment. Your brain had thought too hard and you felt disgusted with yourself. This man was a stranger no more than a day ago, you had let yourself succumb to pleasure and become a whore. You hated this feeling now, and began to shake your head as tears spilled.

“E-Eddie. Stop it. I don’t wanna…” You tried to move your hands, but they felt so heavy that you did nothing but stare at the ceiling and whine.

“Whattt? Now you don’t like this? Just seconds ago, you were addicted to the feeling of my lips on your pretty pussy. Listen how wet you sound…” His single finger became two as it thrusted inside your pussy, making you wince and moan at the sensation. It was all too powerful, you didn’t like it, it made you overwhelmed.

“N-no. I don’t wanna anymore… Please stoppp.” Your words were slurred, your tongue was heavy in your mouth, like you were going to swallow it by accident at any second.

“C’mon sweetheart. Let me finish, then we can take a little nap, you’d like that, won’t you?” You didn’t know what you wanted anymore, you just wanted to go back home, for him to stop, for this high to stop. His tongue continued to give you the confusing pleasure, his fingers adding on to it. He gave his own moans, he seemed to be enjoying this very heavily.

“Look at you, acting like a slut, you just couldn’t stop teasing me. You’re such a cutie.” The abuse on your clit was teeth clenching and toe curling, you’ve never felt pleasure like this in your entire life.

“For someone who wants this to stop, your pussy is so wet, you’re twitching all over me.” You were so confused, your brain telling you this was wrong and that you’re a whore for letting a man do this to you. But for something so wrong, it felt so good. You didn’t even notice how loud your moans were before you suddenly squirmed and screamed. Your pussy was clenching around his fingers, and your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. You were riding out your orgasm as Eddie continued to eat you out, his pace even quickening.

As you rode down the long lasting orgasm, you began to feel overstimulated with Eddie on top of you, he wouldn’t stop his pleasure. You begged him to stop, your pussy twitching, and after a minute (a lifetime to you) he finally pulled away with a smirk.

“Acting like such a slut, you wanted this, you little tease.” He slung his arm over you, your wet pussy still on display, but he covered the both of you with his blanket, which made you more tired than you already felt with the high and the orgasm.

“You belong to me, only I'm allowed to make you feel that way. Let’s sleep now sweetheart.” He cuddled up next to you, making you a small spoon. You felt very conflicted, you couldn’t believe this was happening. Eddie was sweet, he tried his best to make you feel welcome, but it all felt too much. You felt dirty, used, but then again, you were the only one receiving pleasure. He even called you a tease, were you too nice to him? Did you lead him on? You shook your head, before you yawned and began to fall asleep, letting all your worries leave you for a short lived coma.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #dark! eddie munson x reader #dark eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #tw noncon #stranger things #eddie munson smut

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orbitariums · 4 years

Text

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟒)

omg! this chapter is a bit shorter than most and it’s lowkey a filler kinda sorta i just wanted to show them hanging out together and show their lives

next chapter is gonna be the same format but with a lil spice...

warnings: some smut, fluff an’ sweet domesticity :’)

word count: 6.1k

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧: 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

You screamed so loud that Steve poked his head out from the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth to check on you in the living room, where you were cooped up on the couch with your iPad, your eyes glued to the screen.

“You okay?” Steve asked through a mouthful of toothpaste, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

He was pleasantly surprised when you turned to face him and you were positively beaming, baring your glistening teeth in a wide smile, your eyes glittering.

“I keep getting orders!” you exclaimed, referring to your all new clothing store brand that you had in the works earlier that summer. Recently, it had been taking off just how you wanted.

Steve discarded his toothbrush and bounded over to you, making you drop your iPad on the couch as he scooped you up effortlessly, hugging you tight. You squealed with happiness, wrapping your legs around Steve’s waist. He was such a serious guy, it was nice when he made such a grand, intimate gesture like this towards you. He smothered your face and cheeks with kisses, leaving the last smooch on your forehead.

“I’m so happy for you, doll,” he grinned, his eyes glimmering just like yours.

The way Steve’s excitement matched yours just reminded you that he was rooting for you— he was on your side, which felt so rare for you. Steve was a rare treasure in your life, and you still couldn’t wrap your mind around how you’d found him.

You giggled, giddy with excitement,

“I’m so glad I have you to celebrate this with.”

“Who would I be if I wasn’t your hype man?” Steve asked, looking directly into your eyes with a smile on his lips.

“Steve, you are literally my best friend,” you grinned, your heart swelling by how taken aback you were with how deeply he expressed his love. “Now time for me to call my other bestie.”

Steve grinned,

“Does that mean I have to put you down?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully,

“I mean, if you wanna give it away…”

“Noted,” Steve rescinded, setting you down on the floor before him where you returned to your favorite place— right under Steve, with him hovering over you and keeping you safe.

He kissed you sweetly on the lips before leaving you to call Aaliyah on the couch.

“Hey best friend,” she answered the phone with a trill.

“Hi girlie,” you grinned, absolutely shining.

“Ooh, someone’s in a good mood! What happened?!” Aaliyah straightened herself up in her bed, all ears.

“Your girl keeps making sales,” you glanced away from the camera as if it were no big deal to you, only to return with a big grin on your face.

“Okay work!” Aaliyah practically screeched, jumping out of her bed. “Girl, you need to come back soon so we can get drunk drunk. Like, drunk. Just for you.”

“I’ll be back, try not to miss me too much.”

“You seem to be having the time of your life, though, girl. I’m honestly kinda surprised. But like, pleasantly surprised,” Aaliyah commented— if only she knew.

She still thought you were spending your time in New York with family, she didn’t have a clue about Steve. You didn’t want to have to lie to her, but you knew it was the smart decision for now. Besides, it wasn’t like you were ridden with guilt— if anything, Aaliyah would understand your reasoning.

“I know, New York really is where dreams come true,” you noted sarcastically, earning a quiet chuckle from Steve in the kitchen.

“Okay, city girl. Just don’t forget where you came from,” Aaliyah smirked playfully. “For real though, I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, my love. I miss you.”

“Me too, girl.”

“So what have you been up to?”

For a few hours, you and Aaliyah caught up over Facetime. She filled you in on what you’d been missing at home, and how summer and school was going for her, since she was trying to get into med school now. In truth, it wasn’t like there was much to catch up on, since it had only been a week since you’d been apart, you just loved each other that much. You had to hang up when you saw the time, since you had a date with Steve at the museum. You were glad that he seemed to be getting more comfortable taking you to the more public places, even if it meant you both had to be discreet. But that wasn’t hard, you were so comfortable with each other that you didn’t bother much with other people, and others didn’t bother too much with you. You were too preoccupied with each other to even notice much of anything else.

You still didn’t understand how it wasn’t obvious that Steve was Captain America even when he was in his trusty disguise of glasses and a cap, considering how massive he was. You’d even noticed people staring in a mix of wonderment and desire when you were out with him, because he was quite the specimen. You never really got jealous, but you always found yourself gripping his hand tighter when that happened. Of course, he never paid other people much mind.

“You ready?” Steve asked, his back facing you as he heard you come out of the bedroom.

“Think so,” you chimed happily.

Steve turned around at the sound of your voice and immediately felt his heart drop to his stomach. He paused, unsure of what to even say. You were wearing a cream colored silk mini-dress, a gold plated necklace with earrings to match, along with heels. You were positively dazzling, even beyond your outfit— Steve truly thought you looked good all the time, but when you dressed up, you dressed up.

“Wow,” he breathed, truly at a loss for words, his eyes raking up and down your body. He was truly amazed by your presence— just being here made him feel like he was in the presence of a goddess. If you thought you were confused by how you’d won someone like him, you’d be knocked out by Steve’s disbelief.

You felt your cheeks grow warm at the way Steve was silently worshipping you. He looked so innocent, standing there wide-eyed in awe. It was almost as if he hadn’t seen every single part of you, as if you didn’t realize that his eyes were on you almost all the time— well, the latter was true. He never got tired of your beauty. You were truly timeless. But eventually, you laughed, shaking your head and stepping forward and taking his hands in your own.

“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” you joked with him, reaching in to kiss his lips.

“You look incredible. When don’t you?” he smiled, looking you up and down once again. He gestured to your neck, furrowing his brows. “Where’d you get that necklace?”

“This one?” you looked down, then back up, shrugging. “Think I made it.”

“Of course you did,” Steve shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “Gorgeous and talented. How could I not guess that?”

“You’re so corny, Steve,” you snorted, pressing your hand against his chest. “I love it.”

He smoothly maneuvered his arm around your waist so you were close to him, leading you out the door.

“Shall we?” he pulled you close to him.

When you got to the museum, you both were glad to see that it wasn’t crowded, but not unnaturally empty. It almost felt like your circumstances were normal, and that felt nice and unique from your usual system. Steve never made it feel like the two of you had to be in hiding, but the illusion that the precautions weren’t so necessary here felt nice. Of course, it was only an illusion.

You were both always careful, but you were too enamoured by one another to let the issue of privacy stress you the way it did before. Steve’s previous anxiety surrounding keeping you both safe and secret had improved so much ever since you actually came around and lit up his life. He almost wished he had realized how much of a good thing this was sooner, then he would’ve had you right next to him ages ago.

The way Steve held your hand when you stepped out the car and all the way into the museum admittedly had you feeling incredibly special. He had you on his arm, but the way you were shining made it so clear that you were one of a kind, in a league of your own. You just happened to complement each other nicely, even perfectly. That was rare for even the closest of couples, so you were eternally grateful. You matched each other like chocolate and vanilla ice cream, explicitly sweet. You weren’t unaware of the eyes on the both of you as you strode through the museum— hell, together, the two of you looked like Greek gods, one beautiful inside and out, the other gracious, hulking, and strong. You might as well have been reincarnations of Aphrodite and Ares.

You had never been in this museum before, it was called MoMa, short for The Museum of Modern Art. Truthfully, you didn’t spend much time in museums back home. You were much more of an outdoors kind of gal, but you enjoyed being in this museum with Steve almost as much as you did day drinking at an outdoor cafe. The museum was undoubtedly fancy and sophisticated, making you feel right at home while you were all dressed up and always, always carrying yourself with poise.

Steve felt lucky just to be standing beside you, and the two of you enjoyed your time together drifting through the museum, fixating on one work of art from the next, taking your time and staying close together.

“Isn’t that you?” Steve joked, pointing to a marble statue of a beautiful woman who actually did look a bit like you.

“You’re too charming,” you snickered, squeezing his side.

He reached over and kissed your forehead,

“I know a work of art when I see it.”

You pushed your head up so you could reach his lips, pressing a kiss on his mouth, closing your eyes and shutting out the dim light of the museum for just a second, so you could get lost in him. When you opened your eyes, you and Steve made direct eye contact, gazing in each other’s eyes as if you were the only two in the room. Steve almost seemed to stand completely still, lost in the way your eyes glimmered like the water you spent so much time around back home. You knew you had him right where you wanted, and you gave his arm a squeeze as you bit down on your lip, hiding an impish smile.

“Come on,” you nodded towards the exit, gripping his hand and making your way towards the exit.

It was almost like you were lugging Steve behind you, the way he was following your lead like a helpless puppy. You had to fight the urge to cackle at how quickly he melted for you, just from a single kiss. Not only was he touch starved, but he was infatuated with you. That made matters even worse. Steve was a man with honorable impulse control, but when it came to you, looking so beautiful, kissing him so soft and sweet just how he liked, “control” was out of the picture. And now that you were leaving, it was clear what you were both getting yourselves into.

You got into the car, eagerly settling into the backseat. Steve, on the other hand, rushed into the driver’s seat and was about to start the car when you asked,

“What are you doing?”

Steve’s head nearly whipped back to look at you, and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“We’re gonna leave, right?”

You just stared at him for a moment, judgment plastered on your face. You blinked,

“It takes like thirty minutes to get home.”

Steve made a face, his eyebrow quirked up in confusion,

“You don’t wanna go home?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that was tugging at your lips,

“Can you just come to the back?”

He swiftly climbed into the back seat and you chuckled,

“You’re so silly, old man.”

“‘S been a while,” he grunted.

Your eyes flitted up and down his face, and then met his eyes.

“Need you. Now,” was all you said in a voice so quiet that it was like you were telling him a secret.

You made eye contact with Steve once more and he understood, Steve barely even had the chance to speak before you were scrambling on top of him, pressing your lips harshly against his and opening your mouth, Steve following your lead and doing the same, your tongues in each other’s mouths as you kissed. It was less like kissing and more like you were trying to compete to see how long you could hold your breaths, moaning repeatedly into each other’s mouths and only consuming oxygen through heavy pants. It was like you forgot you needed to operate normally, the way you were rubbing frantically against each other and abusing your limited backseat space. Your dress was jammed against your legs because you hadn’t pulled it up properly, and your knees were knocking against the inside of the car.

“I wanna fuck,” you pulled away from his lips, only for him to pout at the lack of contact, resolving to kiss your neck instead, making your skin burn hot on the space where his lips were. You gasped from the unexpected feeling, Steve sucking at all the right spots on your body. He had you all figured out, from the first moment you got intimate with each other. But you didn’t get distracted from your main objective, pushing him away so you could focus, his chest heaving up and down below you. “Right now.”

Steve raised his brows. His face, already a flushed shade of pink from the abundance of physical proximity, darkened to a deep red.

“You… you want me here? Right-right now?”

Your jaw clenched. Just by looking into your eyes, which had darkened like a stormy, grey sky, Steve could see just how serious you were. You were determined you were to get what you wanted, and who was he to get in the way of your needs? Of course, he wasn’t quite thinking logically, but there wasn’t enough room for logic when you were smothering him like this in the car, no matter how spacious it was.

You nodded almost solemnly. You were like a cat in heat right now. If a switch had turned on in Steve earlier, then right now, a big red button was being pressed inside of you, only it meant “go.”

“Yes. Please don’t make me wait, daddy,” you purred, putting on your best angel face, and something stirred deep inside of Steve when you called him that, when you looked at him like that.

His voice went soft and he nearly cooed at you,

“‘M not gonna make you wait… it’s just…”

“No one’s gonna see us,” you leaned in to kiss him again, and pulled away before he could deepen the kiss the way he wanted to, leaving him to pull desperately at your waist. “We’re parked far away from everyone else, see? And it-it’s dark!”

Steve smirked at your frenzied reply, consisting of one excuse after the other,

“You really need this right now, hmm?”

“Don’t get cocky. You need this more than I do,” you bit back snarkily, grinding against his very apparent erection, which throbbed against your center. You bit down on your lip, failing to conceal a devious smirk. “See?”

“Yeah, I-I see,” Steve groaned, glancing down at where your bodies met in the middle, wishing you would take your dress off now. He regained his composure to ask you this one question. “Why so sudden?”

You growled, eager to get past the niceties of fucking,

“Because. Now shut up so I can do my job.”

“Oh wow,” Steve chuckled, raising his brows like he was impressed. “You’re very dedicated to-”

You weren’t kidding.

“Stop talking,” you said, putting your hand over his mouth.

He looked up at you, all the amusement drained from his eyes, replaced by desire and awe. He felt inclined to listen to you, amazed by the new side of you that was coming out all of the sudden. It wasn’t like he always dominated you, and it was obvious that you had Steve wrapped around your finger. But this… this was different.

You kissed him furiously, grinding against him with expertise, making him arch his hips up just to meet you halfway, but you weren’t letting him give in to the pleasure fully yet. You didn’t have time to waste, and yet you had all the time in the world.

You let the tip of your tongue slide against his, then your tongue trailed against his open lips, making him let out a low pitched groan, his eyes half lidded at the soft but prominent sensation. You wanted to make this quick, but every part of you was savoring the moment. It had been a while since you’d done anything so thrilling in public, even if you were sure no one could see you.

Steve’s hand snaked its way up your dress, wasting no time. It took him a minute to catch on in the beginning, but now that he had, he was right where you needed him to be. He went to push your underwear to the side and the look on his face was priceless when he realized you weren’t wearing any. He was pleased that you were even more accessible, but at the same time he was shocked. He hadn’t been expecting it.

“You aren’t wearing anything under that?” he asked breathlessly, his fingers circling your clit immediately, the pad of another finger dipping into your slit with ease because you were already soaking. “Fuck, you’re already wet.”

He started pumping a finger in and out of you, hitting a perfect spot and brushing up against your walls just right. You moaned and rode his fingers, hips thrusting up in the air as you threw your head back.

“Baby,” you panted after some time. “Take your pants off.”

You watched as he hurried to follow your commands, his pants and boxers pooling at his knees as he sat there with his dick erect against his stomach, both of you hot and restless. You practically lunged forward, grinding against him while he worked to unzip your dress, pulling it over your head. The whole event was a mess of clothes being flung everywhere, your bodies knocking into each other and the car seats. It was a blur, really, and you remember crying out when you first sunk onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking him smoothly, slowly, as he watched you with his mouth dropped in an o shape and his eyes glazed over.

“Fuck,” you whined, taking his length. It was one thing to be beneath him, it was another thing to be on top and be stretched out like never before. It was like a completely different feel and a completely different angle, and still perfect nonetheless. “You feel so good baby, look at me.”

You forced Steve to look up at you, perking his chin up with your finger. He was shuddering, his thighs shaking each time you sunk down onto him. You were practically riding him into submission, and the thought made you smirk.

“You like this?” you cooed. “You like when I ride you?”

He nodded quickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed.

“Say it,” you demanded, inching your hand up his chest and settling your palm around his throat.

His hips bucked up inadvertently, and he groaned,

“Y-yes baby, I could fuck you like this forever.”

“Yeah, I bet you could,” you crooned, letting your finger trail along his face, your nail tickling his cheek.

As you got used to taking him, you began to ride him like a pro, the movement of your hips syncing with his effortlessly, bouncing up and down and grinding on him all at once. No matter what you did, the feeling was unbeatable for the both of you, and you couldn’t get enough. On top of that, you had clearly taken charge tonight. Steve was enamoured by you, goddess that you were, and he wanted you on top a lot more now.

Granted, it was the first time, but he only wished it could’ve happened sooner, because then he could cherish this feeling earlier. You took the lead with such ease, because you knew what you were doing and that was clear. Your sex appeal radiated off of you without you even having to try, and your confidence was just the cherry on top. Steve could tell you were enjoying yourself, shamelessly eating up his submission. You were being greedy, reckless. He wanted more and more.

Your movements were graceful and easy, your back arched to get that crucial spot for the two of you, arms wrapped lazily around his neck as you rode him like the perfect wave. He obeyed immediately when you told him to keep his previously wandering hands on your waist, watching in amazement as you led him, the captain.

You lowered your head down to his, pressing your forehead against his as you began to moan, and he could tell you were about to come by the way you squeezed around him. When you did, it was like an explosion. You nearly screamed into his ear, but instead bit down on his neck, leaving a bite that was sure to bruise. You kept riding him while you were coming, anyway, telling him to come with you and triggering his own orgasm, letting him fill you up with his cum. For a while, the two of you just sat there, Steve still inside of you, his head knocking against your chest, while you wrapped your arms around him.

❊

“I’m putting a looot of trust into you right now, you know that?” you pulled your shirt off, stretching your arms up above your head.

Steve laughed, shaking his head,

“No pressure.”

“I’m absolutely joking,” you leaned forward to give him a kiss while cupping his face, lingering at his lips for a few seconds with a soft smile before you pulled away. “I know it’ll turn out amazing. But I can’t stay still for too long.”

“It won’t take more than an hour, I promise,” Steve put his pinky out in front of him and you rolled your eyes before interlacing your pinky with his.

“As long as I’m with you, I don’t mind.”

“Okay. Your bra is real pretty, but that has to go, too,” Steve said, gesturing to your pink lace bra.

“Can you take it off me, please?” you smiled innocently, but Steve just stared you down.

“If I do that, you’re gonna try to distract me,” he stood his ground, and you chortled, cupping his face in your hands as you leaned forward,

“Steve, I would never. I understand the importance of the artist’s process. Here, I’ll even turn around.”

You turned so your back was facing Steve, your shoulders relaxing when you felt his big hands brushing against your skin, undoing your bra. You felt his bare hands roam up the expanse of your back and rolled your shoulders back into the all encompassing touch.

“Just trying to understand my canvas,” Steve muttered, his broad hands cupping your shoulders like he was giving you a massage.

You sighed, rolling back your neck until you could see a glimpse of him, a slight smile on your face. You crossed your arms over your chest to cover your breasts, making an X shape with your arms.

“I’m sure,” you replied, and he lurched forward to plant a kiss on your lips before leaning back, gesturing for you to lie down.

You lay down on your front side, your back fully exposed to Steve. Rays of light splashed against your back and shone in Steve’s softened face. You could hear him cleaning his paintbrushes in the mason jar of water that was balancing on the bed sheets, the brush clanking against the rim of the jar and the water sloshing around with the bristles. Your days with Steve were growing more and more intimate as the time passed on.

Steve had finally given in to your pleas that he draw more, but he took it a step further and decided he would paint instead, using you as a canvas. Steve caught on fast, and you loved that about him. Whatever you wanted to do, he was down, and he would go that extra mile because he wanted to, not because he didn’t feel like he had an option.

You tapped your feet against the bed sheets to the rhythm of the Jhene Aiko song playing in the background, and grinned to yourself when you heard Steve humming along. You put him onto so much that he didn’t even realize the things he was picking up from you along the way.

“Alright,” Steve grinned in satisfaction, dipping his brush into the selection of paints on his easel. “You ready?”

You gave him a thumbs up, giddy with excitement. Steve had to gently touch your ankles to remind you to stop shaking, and you uttered a giggly apology while he shook his head playfully.

“Never had such a difficult canvas,” Steve straddled the back of your legs as you lay still below him.

“Shut up,” you chuckled, cutting yourself off with a gasp when you felt the cool paint against your back. “Shit, that’s cold as fuck!”

“Language,” Steve smirked, and you barked a bitter laugh.

“This is coming from the man who was describing the ways he wanted to deflower my body in obscene depth this morning,” you clapped back at him, and he opened his mouth to reply, only to recede with a resigning sigh. Noting his silence, you simpered. “I win.”

“Just remember I am the one with total control over your body right now. One misstroke and this painting goes from Mona Lisa quality to absolute shit,” Steve reminded you, waving a finger in the air.

“Mona Lisa? Someone thinks real highly of themselves,” you poked fun at him as he continued to layer paint on your back to create a light blue base. “Besides, paint washes off.”

“I’ll lock you out of the bathroom,” Steve sniggered, much too pleased with himself for your liking. You swatted at him with a reprimanding hand and he dodged it. “Alright, alright. I won’t mess it up on purpose, I promise.”

“You better not,” you murmured, already sinking into sleep. You couldn’t help it. You were tired from being worn out this morning, because Steve did do everything to your body that he said he would do, namely fucking the daylights out of you. And, Steve painting on your back was oddly therapeutic in a way, and the brush against your back felt like feathers from a pillow, lulling you to sleep. So, you fell asleep as the sound of the music playing faded away.

You woke up to the sound of Steve’s deep voice in your ear, telling you to wake up so he could take pictures of you.

Your eyes trickled open slowly and you looked up at Steve who was laying on his side next to you, positively beaming. You smiled sleepily, the fog from your sleep starting to clear from the light Steve was emanating. His face was so close up, you couldn’t help but brush your nose against his and give him a butterfly kiss before kissing his nose with your lips.

“I finished,” Steve grinned in celebration, and in that moment you were sure you’d never seen him look so happy, except for when you stepped off the private jet and into his life.

“Baby,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and got up gingerly, so as not to mess up the masterpiece that was still drying on your back. “Lemme see.”

Steve got up quickly and dragged the full body mirror towards you, standing behind it and holding it up, a proud smile glued to his face. You couldn’t help but giggle at how satisfied he looked with the results, and your heart swelled to see him so happy and actually doing some personal hobbies outside of work. You were glad you were with him, and you were glad that meant he got a break from the hustle of his everyday life. This break wouldn’t last forever, but at least he was getting one. He didn’t often do things that he actually liked to do, he was so worked up. When he was with you, he was free to do whatever, and you actually pushed him to do the things he enjoyed.

You turned so your back faced the mirror, and craned your neck to see the work of art. It was a divine myriad of colors on your glowing skin, a light blue sky as the base, a painting of the sun and moon on top. The moon and sun each had eyes, a nose, and a mouth, and the moon was hugging the sun, covering its right eye. He had drawn swirly clouds and glinting stars all around to truly bedazzle the piece. You couldn’t stop smiling, it was truly beautiful and probably the most intimate thing you’d ever done with someone.

“Steve, you’re literally amazing at this. I’m serious,” you prodded him when he shook his head in embarrassment. “I mean look, you know it’s amazing, you’re so proud of yourself! And you should be.”

You scrambled over to him, tugging at the camera that was hanging by a strap around his neck,

“C’mon. Take pictures of it!”

“Yeah, just—” Steve cocked his head to the side, trailing off, and you realized immediately that he was distracted by your bare upper torso.

You shook your head, laughing to yourself, and stood up on your knees to pose for him.

“You can take some just for yourself, too,” you winked.

❊

You woke up to the feeling of Steve stroking your face with his thumb and kissing the top of your head ever so gently, the room dark except for the fuzzy light blue glare of the TV screen a few feet away. You snuggled into his chest, already laid up on top of him, both your bodies stretched out on the cozy couch.

You sighed sleepily and blinked up at him. He was fixated on the TV, halfway through the first Deathly Hallows movie. You’d fallen asleep somewhere towards the end of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, so you were quite pleasantly surprised that Steve let you lay on him for so long, and that he continued watching the movies. His blue eyes were unmoving, glued to the screen and thoroughly engaged in the story. You smiled below him and poked his chest, making him glance down at you with an unassuming “hmm?” sound.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“A long time,” Steve smooched your forehead, then your nose, and then your lips, suffocating you with his kisses. “How are you feeling?”

“Not as sleepy. We stayed up way too late last night,” you reminded him, and he shrugged.

“At least I’m almost finished,” he said, referring to the Harry Potter movies that you had stayed up late last night to continue.

“We gotta figure out your Hogwarts house,” you squinted up at him, making the calculations in your head. “I think you’re a Gryffindor. I am too.”

“Gryffindor, Hufflepuff… it’s all the same, isn’t it?” Steve sighed, and you gasped, sitting up on his lap and looking at him, appalled,

“Steve! Have you learned nothing from the past seven movies?”

He cackled, shaking his head,

“I’m kidding. I think so too, doll.”

You pushed his chest with a dramatic pout,

“Nevermind, asshole, you’re definitely a Slytherin.”

“Hey, I don’t wanna be a bad guy!”

“Boo fucking hoo,” you droned. “You get to be a hero all the goddamn time, take your Slytherin house placement and go. Also, you clearly haven’t been paying attention! Not all Slytherins are bad.”

“I’ll take being an Avenger over being a Slytherin any day,” Steve noted casually, and you couldn’t help but grin at the side note. You positioned yourself on his lap so you were straddling him and he put his hands around your waist almost reflexively.

“Yeah?”

“Of course,” Steve insisted. “My job is tough but, someone’s gotta do it.”

“You ever wish you weren’t like this? I mean… if you’d known things would turn out the way they did…”

You bit your lip in anticipation as you waited for Steve’s answer, because he was taking a while to think about it. You hoped you weren’t pushing a boundary here by asking this question, but Steve knew you had good intentions, and you knew him long enough to know that he wouldn’t be afraid to answer you.

He finally found it in him to give you a cohesive answer. He truly had to think, because it wasn’t a feeling he could quite put into words. People thought Steve was this stonelike, serious guy, but he was mainly just pensive. He was still the same Steve he’d always been, even before the serum, even before he became a figure of fame. Now, people just happened to take him a whole lot more seriously. People admired him. But all the while, he was still grieving, still trying to figure out his footing in this world. Now that he was with you, the process was going along much smoother.

He clasped your hands, bringing your interlaced fingers to his lips,

“I’ve been through a lot. And it’s hard for me to face things head on sometimes, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. I have to admit, though, it really has been nice just… being unseen. Just for a few days, being unknown by the world. Under the radar, I guess. I get to just be Steve, not Captain. And don’t get me wrong, I’d never complain about my responsibilities. I’m just a private person. I’m not in this for the fame and the attention. That’s the only thing I’d ever change. I just want to do what’s right. I don’t need the praise.”

You nodded, completely understanding. Whenever you and Steve had these deep conversations, you were glad, because you really both listened to each other. You said exactly what was on your minds without fearing judgment. You had kind of expected that to be Steve’s answer, the way he cherished his privacy and didn’t seem to care much for the frills attached to his honorable job.

Notoriety wasn’t Steve’s goal, in fact he figured he’d be better off without it. He was grateful for his work, but he didn’t need the fans and worship that came with it. You could honestly never grow tired of Steve talking about himself— his past, his present, his job, his fears. He hardly talked about himself anyway, he was always engulfed in one thing or another. You liked pulling things out of him, not because you wanted to be intrusive, but because you knew it’d be good for him. Besides, how would you get along if you didn’t truly know each other?

As he spoke, you nodded, taking in each and every word. You let your fingernails lightly scratch his face, trailing along his perfect superhuman skin, lulling him without even realizing it.

“I get that. You could be Steve Rogers and just save lives, and live just how you want to.”

“Yeah,” Steve smiled, gazing up into your eyes, the movie long forgotten in the background. He placed his hands on your hips as if to keep you in place where you were, locking you in like you belonged here and here only. “What about you? Would you change anything?”

You cocked your head with a small smile. You hadn’t been expecting him to ask about you, and it honestly wasn’t something you thought of quite a lot. Maybe if you were still hurting, you’d say yes. But, because your whole life had brought you to this point, here with him and happy with yourself, you couldn’t.

You shook your head, biting down on your lip, your smile expanding,

“No. I wouldn’t. I’m actually kind of content now. Healing’s a long process, but it’s worth it. And I’m with you, so it’s all worth it.”

Steve’s eyes glimmered when you said that, and his fingers dung deeper into your hips.

“Think this is probably the happiest I’ve ever been,” Steve said, and god, he didn’t know how much that meant to you.

tags later!

#girls on film #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #marvel #marvel fic #marvel imagines #imagines #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america #captain america smut #steve rogers reader insert #reader insert #marvel reader insert #orbitariums

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trulycevans · 4 years

Text

our perfect little family

Warnings: swearing, a bad pregnancy experience

Summary: anon requested:

“hi!! i absolutely love ur imagines 🥺 i was thinking maybe u could do one where chris’ gf is pregnant and they break up (unrelated to the pregnancy) but chris still is in her life and they get back together after the baby is born 👉👈 just an idea! hope u’re staying safe! <3″

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

[A/N I’ve never been pregnant so I don’t know much about the ins and outs of it, I’ve tried as much as possible to be accurate but if anything isn’t quite right you know why]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You paced the bathroom of yours and Chris’ shared home. Heart in your throat as you watched the timer on your phone. You sat down on the toilet lid, knees bobbing, head in your hands. Never had you expected to feel the amount of dread you did at that moment. While many people in a relationship feel excited about a possible pregnancy, you on the other hand felt a sense of impending doom.

The alarm beeped on your phone causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “Ok [Y/N], you’ve got this. No matter what it says you’ll be okay” You muttered a pep talk to yourself as you twisted to pick up the pregnancy test from the sink. “Fuck,” the two lines on the pregnancy test were bold and dark. There was no denying or doubting whether your child was currently growing inside you.

Your head began to spin. Yours and Chris’ relationship had been rocky for a few months and was hanging on by a thread. Virtually every conversation you would have would be an argument, which lead to Chris sleeping on the sofa and an awkward apology the next morning. However, this was cyclical and happened most nights. You ached for the relationship you once had, one filled with laughter and joy. With stolen kisses and romantic endeavours.

Your hand moved down to your stomach, “Hello baby,” You whispered, your eyes beginning to well with tears. “I’m gonna protect you no matter what-” You were interrupted by the sound of your boyfriend shouting you from downstairs. “Where are you? I’ve been looking for you. I-” He pushed the door of your en suite open, his gaze dropping to the pregnancy test in your grasp and your hand held softly on your belly.

“What’s that?” He asked softly, frozen in his spot in the doorway. You didn’t respond, silently handing him the pregnancy test. His poker face while studying the white stick in front of him made you flood with concern, your hand never leaving your stomach as your knee continued to bob anxiously.

“You’re pregnant?” He finally whispered looking up at you with watery eyes, causing you to nod. He cautiously walked toward you, kneeling next to you on the cold tiles. He delicately lifted his hand so that his fingertips could brush your cheek softly, causing you to look at his face, a small smile etched on his face, as slow tears trickled down his cheeks.

“I know things haven’t been great between us recently...” He hesitated, taking a second to breathe and observe your reaction. “But you don’t know how happy this makes me.” His voice was barely audible.

“We-We’re gonna make this work right Chris?” You questioned, “No matter what happens this baby is always gonna have us right?”

“That’s what you’ve been worrying about?” He asked incredulously, “No matter what I’m gonna be there for our child... Nothing in the world would ever stop me from being the best Dad.” His hand hesitantly drifted to your own that rested upon your belly, as if seeking permission from you, unsure of how you would react.

“That’s our baby in there Chris” You whispered, and he gave your hand a tight squeeze as he interlocked his fingers with yours. A comfortable silence washed over the two of you, and you prayed that this feeling would never end.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

But of course it did. A baby was never going to fix the problems you and Chris had had. You both quickly realised that the stress of your relationship was not good for you or the baby. So just as you entered the second trimester you and Chris had ended your relationship, a mutual decision that pained the both of you each day.

Chris had moved out of your shared home, not wanting you to have to put too much pressure or stress on yourself by being the person to leave. So as you spent the first night alone in your large Boston home you had cried whilst sitting on the sofa, Dodger curled up on your lap as the sounds of your sobs echoed across the empty halls. Your phone beeped on the coffee table in front of you and you leaned forward to retrieve it and read the message.

chris 🤍: I’m so sorry for everything. I’m so grateful for everything you have, had and will do for me and our child. Sleep well, I’ll see you soon x

Silent tears trickled down your face as your heart shattered even more.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The pregnancy passed in a blur and you had hated every minute of it. Not only were the hormones surging through your body making you feel emotionally, mentally and physically horrendous, but your crippling loneliness made it awful as well. Yes, you had yours and Chris’ family around you in the day which made it that little bit easier. But at night when it was just you and Dodger alone in the house, the house that was a constant reminder of your failed relationship.

Chris had tried to be there for you in any way he could, and it pained him to see you so damaged by the pregnancy. He felt to blame, and yet it was inappropriate of him to try and help relieve some of your symptoms.

Chris on the day that marked exactly four weeks before your due date had found himself parked up on the driveway of your home just watching you and waiting in case anything happened. You were struggling to walk at this stage and while you had insisted to Chris that you could take care of yourself (”Chris I’ve got this, go home I’ll be fine” you had winced as a sharp pain shot through your back). However, he knew that was just your stubbornness shining through.

So to settle his nerves Chris had camped outside of your house in his car, just in case you needed him, and as he watched you through the window standing at the kitchen. He smiled, staring at your swollen belly as you chopped vegetables at the island. His adoration for you had only grown throughout your pregnancy, he craved your attention and affection, he wanted nothing more than to be able to stand behind you now hands on your swelling stomach, kissing your hair comfortingly as you talk about your day.

His affection was quickly converted to concern however as he watched your eyes widen and hands clutch your stomach. He leant forward as he watched your look down at the floor and then grab your phone, his own beginning to ring immediately.

“Hey!” He answered, “What’s wrong?”

“You’re still outside aren’t you?” You questioned wincing.

“Yeah, why?” Chris breathed, anxiety piling up with every second that passed.

“I-I think my water just broke” You breathed, Chris immediately jumped out of the car, dropping his phone into the centre console. He raced into the house, fumbling with his keys to open the door. When finally the lock gave and he was able to rush inside he found you knelt on the kitchen floor trying to clean up the fluid that had leaked.

“Babe what are you doing?” He questioned incredulously, the nickname rolling off his tongue out of habit.

“Labour could take days, and then I’ll probably stay at the hospital for a few more. I’m not coming back in pain after having this baby and having to clean up the floor,” You explained, causing Chris to let out an exasperated laugh. “And what do you think I’m gonna be doing when this baby comes, just watching you do everything. I’ll clean this up for you” He knelt down in front of you taking the cloth from your hand. “Why don’t you head out to the car?” He questioned, “I’ll grab the bag and take Dodger round to Mrs. Dalloway.” All you could do was nod as a contraction occurred, causing your face to scrunch up and you to moan in pain.

Chris dashed around the house making sure everything was in order as you shuffled to the car. When he eventually climbed into the car, the faint sound of the radio as you text yours and Chris’ parents to let them know what was happening so they could meet you at the hospital. “You ready to have a baby?” He questioned, and you nodded wide eyed. A sense of fear reverberating between you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

36 hours. That’s how long it took for you to bring Emilia Grace Evans into the world. But it was so worth it. The moment you and Chris heard her cries you had made eye contact and shed tears. You fell back onto the hospital bed exhausted as the nurses shuffled to take care of you.

“Well done,” Chris whispered brushing your sweat-ridden hair away from your face. “You did so well,” He pressed a firm kiss to your temple as the midwife congratulated you on your baby girl. She was placed onto your chest, and at last you felt at peace. You felt normal again for the first time in eight months, and as your eyes moved from your beautiful newborn daughter to your ex-boyfriend, you knew that you couldn’t do this without him. The adoration in his eyes as he watched you whisper comforting words to your daughter.

It was an unspoken agreement to continue your relationship. It naturally just happened. The moment you were discharged from hospital Chris had gradually moved back into your home. You shared a bed again, he cared for you as you recovered from the ordeal that was giving birth.

And after a month of living this way you had asked what you were while rocking Emilia to sleep on your porch swing. “We’re just us, [Y/N]” Chris whispered. “We’re just our perfect little family” He smiled as Dodger nuzzled his leg.

“Our perfect little family,” You repeated, looking up at him and leaning up to kiss him as the evening sun washed over you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

taglist

@onetwo3000 @tvckerlance

#chris evans #cevans #chris evans imagines #chris evans one shot #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #cevans x reader #cevans imagine #cevans imagines #cevans one shot #marvel imagines

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halfwaythereroyalwrites · 4 years

Text

Destressing (Steve Rogers x Filipina!Reader Kilig One-Shot)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Filipina!Reader

Warnings: SMUT. Unprotected sex (wrap it up in real life, but this is fiction sooo). Oral (M! Receiving). Fingering. Spitting. Rough. Possible secondhand embarrassment or stress. It’s a lot.

Word count: 2k+

Summary: Filipinx parties can be a lot, and Steve helps you destress before getting ready.

Kilig is a Tagalog word to describe the feeling of excitement and exhilaration and possibly embarrassment from anything remotely romantic.

Masterlist

______________________________________

The continuous pitter-patter of the locker room shower was echoing off the walls. It seemed the world was against you that day. Meetings ran late. People kept cornering you with questions. Your damn badge inexplicably stopped working resulting in a lengthy visit to IT. All of this misfortunate happenings added to the anxiety you were feeling about tonight: the night Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, would finally meet your family. Unfortunately, the invite was late. Late as in — you found out this morning. The reason for the party escaped your mind. Your family finds any excuse to throw a party, and now that they know you had finally snagged a boyfriend — especially one that is a national hero — they were really eager to finally meet him.

Surprisingly, Steve took the last-minute plans in stride despite your very frantic announcement, with you aggressively cornering Steve after a briefing and rambling at 100 miles an hour about a party at Tita Maria’s house. He was already dressed by the time you had to leave. You, on the other hand, decided to stay and workout in the gym instead before going home, trying desperately to rid your body of anxiety.

“Doll, we’re gonna be late. We still have to head home before going to your folks’ place.”

The squeak of the shower being turned off made Steve quietly sigh in relief. You appeared in front of him, wrapped in a towel, and dripping water all over the floor.

“First off, being late is fine. It’d actually be pretty weird if we showed up on time,” you explained, opening your locker and sorting through your clean clothes. “Second, I hate going to these things. They’re gonna love you. You’re their ideal man, but I am never going to hear the end of it! ‘Did you gain weight?’ ‘Did you get darker?’ ‘So when are you getting married?’ UGH! I hate these things,” you were visibly seething by the end of your rant. You plopped down on to the bench next to Steve who brought your head closer to place a kiss on your temple.

“Well I hope I’m your ideal man too, doll,” Steve mused.

“Of course you are. I just don’t like coming around there,” you pouted at Steve, placing your hand on his thigh.

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be,” Steve offered. You couldn’t help but scoff at Steve’s naiveté. He’ll never know the level of mind games these parties require, and the very thought of going wound your muscles as tight as a vice.

“Babe, you have no idea how Filipino families can be. It’s Game of Thrones but with brown people and better food,” you quipped. Your hand massaged the sizable knot forming on your shoulder. Steve took notice and gently pushed your hand away, massaging the knot himself while you closed your eyes and leaned against him. “I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, doll,” Steve comforted. Damn it. This man was too perfect to be true. You had been bugging him all day about how you were dreading seeing your relatives, and yet here he was, patient and perfect, as ever. You kissed his cheek in response.

“Steve…” You trailed kisses from his cheek to his perfectly-cut jawline to his neck.

“Uh…ye-yes, doll?” Steve croaked out, his eyes closing at the feeling of you placing open-mouthed kisses on his neck.

“Can you help me calm down?”

“Ye-yeah what do you…mmmgghh,” Steve groaned mid-question as your hand made its way onto his groin, massaging his dick through his jeans. His head knocked back in pleasure — a low growl emanating from his throat. You whimpered at Steve’s hand stopping you from feeling him. “We’re going to be late. Anyone could walk in right now.” Your hand continued grinding against Steve’s growing arousal. You nipped at his earlobe before whispering into his ear.

“Makes this all the more…exciting, doesn’t it?” As graceful as you could, you got up from the bench and stood in front of him. “Steve, trust me. We got time.” You dropped your towel, got on your knees, and caressed his thighs — glancing up at him through your eyelashes.

“You’re killing me, doll.” Smirking, your fingers made quick work of unbuttoning and sliding his jeans and underwear off of his muscular legs. You took his half-erect cock in your hands, pumping a few times before licking a hot stripe up the big vein on the underside. Steve took his shirt off. His hand gripped a fistful of your hair. His head knocked back, eyes closed in ecstasy at your actions, and a low groan rumbled from his chest. A couple drops of pre-cum dripped out of the tip of his cock. Your thumb circled around the tip, kissing and softly sucking. You started licking and sucking on his balls, hand still pumping his length, making more pre-cum drip out of his sensitive tip. Steve had his eyes locked on you, and yours on him. You licked up the large protruding vein before spitting on his cock and quickly taking his length in your mouth.

“…fuuckk,” Steve whispered. The power you felt from the sight of his head knocking back in pleasure and his whispered cursing was indescribable. His hands held your hair and guided you up and down his pulsing cock. His mouth was agape, in awe of the pleasure you were giving him. Your hand was pumping whatever you couldn’t take in your mouth. Your moans of pleasure would shoot the most delicious vibrations down his cock which would make Steve groan in response, gripping your hair tighter and whispering your name over and over again, pleading with you not to stop. The throbbing sensation in your pussy was becoming unbearable, and you used your free hand to rub circles around your swollen clit, quickly coating your hand in your own arousal.

Each small pang of pleasure from your own hand made you moan on Steve’s cock. Steve gently thrust his hips up and pushed your head down, urging you to take him deep into your throat. Bracing your hands on his thighs, you gladly obliged, letting his dick slide past the back of your throat. He moved your head up and down slightly, the salacious sounds of you sucking and choking on his big dick echoing in the empty locker room, making you wetter and Steve groan louder. He pulled you off his cock, breathing hard at the sight of you, mouth and chin dripping wet with pre-cum and spit. You traced some off your chin and licked your fingers, keeping your eyes firmly locked on him. Steve roughly grabbed your jaw and kissed you, wasting no time slipping his tongue in your mouth, tasting the remnants of himself.

“Get up,” Steve growled. As soon as you got off your knees, he pulled you on top of him, your knees resting on either side of his hips, his mouth placing open-mouthed kisses on the base of your neck. His arm was around your waist, keeping you pinned to him, while his hand groped and teased your breast. He trailed down to your other breast, switching between sucking, licking, nipping, tugging, and teasing. The way he switched between your breasts. The way he would lick and grope and nip and…God, this man was going to be the end of you. Your hand was tangled in his hair, and you couldn’t help but mirror Steve’s earlier actions and knock your head back at the sensation of his mouth on your tits. “Look at me.”

You stared into his eyes that were now seemingly dark in a lust-ridden haze. His large hands gripped your hips before pushing you down to grind on his hard cock. A loud moan escaped your throat, eyes closing at the delicious friction he provided. “No,” he grunted. “Keep your eyes on me. I wanna see your face as you grind on my cock.” His hand gripped your hair as your hips were grinding on him; his groans deep and guttural, stirring your arousal even more.

“Steve, I can’t-I can’t take it anymore. Please,” you pleaded with him, your hips moving faster against his cock.

“Please, what? Use your words, doll. Tell me what you want.” His fingers started circling your clit, heightening your pleasure and making you lose your breath. He dipped his fingers into your soaked cunt, coating his fingers in your arousal. He thrust his curved fingers in you a few times, softly stroking a spot that made you roll your eyes back in pleasure. He pulled his fingers out and licked them, never letting his gaze break from yours.

“Agh! Fu-fuck, Steve…I want your cock in me, please,” you pleaded with him. Steve lined his erection up to your pussy and slowly thrust inside, letting you adjust to his length. You moaned at the sinful, sensual stretch of your pussy as Steve’s cock bottomed out. You moved your hips up and down, slowly, before picking up the pace. Steve gripped his hands on your hips, watching you in awe, slightly helping you up and down as you rode him. Your fingers tightly wound into his hair and gripped his neck for support. He whispered sweet nothings to you, as you repeatedly slammed your hips down onto his, reveling in the pleasure and heat of the moment.

Steve’s patience ran out and eagerly took back control. He gripped your hips and roughly thrust into you at a fast-paced, almost brutally satisfying way. You couldn’t help the strangled cry that escaped your treat at the raw ecstasy overtaking every inch of your body. His fingers started circling your clit, tightening the coil of your pending orgasm. “Holy shit! Fuck Steve! I’m so close. So close. Steve. Steve. Steve please…ah…ah…fuck…oh mY GOD STEVE!” You collapsed on his chest, shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. Steve’s arms circled around you, groaning at the feeling of your dripping pussy convulsing around his cock. He stroked your hair and rubbed your back as he waited for you to stop shaking, peppering your face with light kisses, whispering about how beautiful you look and how good you are doing. When your body had calmed down, Steve locked your lips into a passionate kiss. His lips moved against yours in a dance you knew all too well but could never get enough of. He pulled away and held your face in his hands. His thumbs caressing your cheeks, and your hands resting on his forearms. Steve took a moment to study you. Your pupils were dilated. Lips puffy. Your chest was still slightly heaving up and down, trying to calm down from your high. He placed a sweet peck on your lips and whispered

“You ok?” You bit your lip and nodded. There was no end to how perfect this man is. And he was yours. Steve Rogers was yours. He pulled you flush against him in an embrace. His deep, lust-ridden voice muttered into your ear. “My turn.”

To your surprise, Steve got up, keeping your body against his and slammed you against the lockers, being careful not to hurt you. You broke out into a fit of giggles before getting the breath knocked out of you from being pushed against the lockers. Steve adjusted your legs so that they encircled his hips, locking him in a vice grip. Steve groaned before thrusting his hips into yours at a rapid pace, gripping your hips. His hot breath fanning all over you as you clung onto him, lost in how fucking hot Steve was making you feel. Once again, you felt the tightening coil of your pending orgasm. “Steve, baby please. I’m so cl-close. Agh…agh…fuck!” Your breath was coming in short pants. Your nails dug into his shoulders. You screamed. Unfettered. Loud. Raw. You felt your orgasm wash over you in sweet, suffocatingly satisfying relief. Steve’s thrusts started losing their rhythm as your cunt convulsed around him. His breaths coming in hot, short pants now as well. He slammed his hips into yours, bottoming out, before pushing you against the lockers, making a loud slam that reverberated in the empty locker room. The intensity of his orgasm led to strangled, low groans by your ear, and his closed fist banged against the locker — the combined sounds making you moan. You felt his cum start to drip out of your pussy and onto your inner thighs. He thrust his cock in you a couple more times, bottoming out each time, before pulling out and setting your feet down on the ground.

You clung onto Steve for support, not trusting the strength of your legs. Steve picked up the towel you had dropped earlier and wiped you down, making sure to be gentle around your sensitive nub. “Ever the gentleman,” you quipped, grinning. Steve smirked at your smart comment, placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Ready to go now, doll?” Steve asked.

“Yes, I am,” you smiled. “But first, we have to shower.”

______________________________________

Masterlist

Requested by: @svetlana-beilschmidt

A/N: Let me know what you think and/or if you want to be added to my taglist!

Taglist: @peppermintvanillaa @fantasticcopeaglepasta @multifandomlife22 @thottiewinemom @princeabomination @svetlana-beilschmidt

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charmingpplincardigans · 4 years

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January Kitchen Sink Check In

This is mostly for me, because I’m trying to become a better person this year, for varying definitions of the term ‘better’, and I like to see my progress laid out all organized like. It helps me move forward. So I’m gonna go through my Body/Mind/Money goals for January and note how I did and what I’m going to do moving forward!

BODY

Working Out:

My two work out goals for the end of the year are to 1) be doing yoga semi-regularly and 2) be working out four days a week reliably, including the yoga. I’m working on easing myself into these (and all) habits, because I don’t want to overwhelm myself and give up on everything, so my goal for January was to work out one day a week. And I worked out *drumroooooooll* NONE! NOT A ONCE. I don’t have an excuse for this. Part of it was stress, part of it was depression, part of it was sheer laziness. I promise myself I’m gonna work out at least once a week in February, but also shoot for the two times a week that is the February Goal.

Food:

I have several overall food goals for the year. One is to give up soda near completely, or at least to break my addiction to it. The others are to start planning meals and eat less meat. For January I wanted to drink only two sodas a day (20oz max). I managed that 23 days out of 31. In looking at the calendar you can reliably match the days I failed to the days that were extremely stressful or anxiety ridden. I have a very bad habit in those moments of throwing up my hands and deciding that I’m a failure anyway so nothing matters. That’s definitely a mental tick to keep an eye on over the next few months as my job no doubt just gets more and more stressful. The other goals I did okay with. I decided to plan one meatless meal a week. New recipes I made in January were:

Black bean soup

Moroccan sweet potatoes

Spinach lasagna

Black bean & sweet potato enchiladas

Do recommend most of them. The lasagna had way too much cinnamon in it, which was kind of weird. If I make that recipe again I’m gonna quarter the amount. But I might just find a different veggie lasagna to make.

For February I want to drop the soda to one a day (12oz max), and start to plan to make two meals a week. I’m doing okay with meat, but I could for sure do better. It helps that I have started making THE WORLD’S BEST SANDWICHES for lunch. Probably just gonna eat those forever instead of ordering out Huey Magoo’s or whatever. (The sandwich is hummus, cucumber, and feta on toasted Good Seed bread. Try it!)

Doctor Things:

Uff. I need to figure out the CPAP issues and the chest pain issues. I absolutely despised the first mask they sent me for the CPAP. It gave me panic episodes and I was ripping it off IN MY SLEEP. Insurance refused me a new mask until April, but my doctor came in like an angel with a sample version of a different type of mask to try. This one is...better. I’m still not comfortable in it and it’s not appreciably helping my sleep. People keep telling me it’s going to change my life, but that has not happened yet. On the other hand I have friends who’ve tried to make them work for YEARS and never did, so I’m wary of this whole process, but still trying.

I had a sort of fraught meeting with my cardiologist last week. My chest pain symptoms had been getting better as of October, but with the change in my job I’ve back slid almost entirely. I had a 36 hour period of chest pain two weeks ago. I go whole nights having every heart attack symptom in slow motion, but doing nothing about it because I can’t afford for the ER to tell me I’m fine five times a month. I cried when she asked me why I didn’t go to a hospital when that happened. I feel so helpless all of the time and I’m certain I’m going to die any day now, even though my heart is technically physically fine. Can you anxiety yourself into a heart attack? I THINK YOU CAN. She did tell me to try to speak to the psychiatrist again about anxiety medication. The last time I tried the woman I saw didn’t want to prescribe me anything. She told me to work on my sleep and come back. Welp! The cardiologist said that if that happens this time she’ll write a note telling her to prescribe me something. We’ll see. I need to try to make that appt this month.

MIND

Therapy:

My therapist thinks I’ve done really well over the last year with working on myself and said out loud that she thinks I’m better at dealing with some things and am in a good position to move forward. But I’m so stressed right now that I just feel like I’ve fallen apart again. We’re meant to start on EMDR this week, but I’m going to have to put a pause on it so I can talk about how I’m at like, the lowest point of my life, which she will be very supportive of and then probably remind me that if we could just get to the EMDR and work with the older traumas this might not feel so dire. I’m just, on the struggle bus and too tired to do anything but freak out about that.

Writing:

I have so may creative goals this year! Too many probably! I should put some back! My creative goals for the year are:

Complete a rough draft of AMLD (10,000 words a month)

Complete and mail out the Girls Who Date the Universe chapbook

Complete and mail out any remaining art for people who helped me with the car fund

Work on poetry and short fictions (Monster Story?)

Actually check in to @gywo every month (10 days a month goal)

My creative goals for January were to write 10,000 words on AMLD, work on the extra poems for GWDTU, and send the remaining postcards from the car fund. And uh...look. I did work on writing. I worked on the chapbook layout and editing pieces that needed to be edited/replaced, because there are several. I did also work on the outline for AMLD, but didn’t write new words on it. Not anywhere 10,000 of them at any rate.

The owing people art thing is just...it fucks me up, man. I have learned a huge lesson between the car fund and the patreon. I get so in my head about how these people deserve beautiful things and then I tell myself I’m not capable of making things worthy of them and then I put off doing the thing because I want to put off letting them down and then it just spirals from there. ALL THE WHILE I AM FOR SURE LETTING THEM DOWN. I realize this is both unhealthy and unprofessional. It’s why one of my goals this year is to clear all of this once and for all so that I can square myself away with everyone and try not to end up here in the future.

So, the January Goals now get rolled up into the February Goals, which leaves the new list for the month at:

10,000 words AMLD

Complete extra poems for GWDTU

Send postcards from car fund

Complete layout for Boston chapbook for car fund

I did check in for GYWO.

Future Plans:

Part of letting off the pressure for the now for me is always about planning for the future. Not like, the actual future, I’m not starting a 401k, let’s not go nuts. But for something that is one step forward. In my notes for my year goals this is all about moving back to Boston. I need to set a date for it. I need to save money for it. I need to keep my job until after I’ve done it. But now I think this part needs to include notes about my job itself and the ways I can either move forward with it or move away from it once and for all.

I talked to Lisa and Kait at the beginning of the year about the moving plan, and now I just need to talk to my apartment complex to see if it would be feasible to extend the lease to December or February without paying an exorbitant amount in rent each month. If rent ends up being more than $2k/mo for the extension then I’m just going to have to have to wait until June 2022. This frustrates me, because I hate not being able to just follow through with decisions once I’ve made them, but patience is another thing I’m working on eternally. My goal for February is figure out money stuff well enough and talk to complex and set a timeline.

Work is. Wow. It’s awful right now. I still have my job, which takes up much of my days, but because of re-org I’m also having to learn a whole new job which would also take up much of my day. I can’t not learn this job, because the person who used to do it is in another department now too, so there’s no one to get the work done if I don’t learn to do it. But I also can’t do both. I CAN’T DO BOTH. An issue popped up last week with my job that literally brought my ulcer back. I asked my boss for help with it and she sent me a message at one point saying she wanted to cry about it. So like. She knows now, right? She knows I can’t do both jobs?? BUT THERE’S NO ONE ELSE TO DO IT SO I GUESS I JUST GET TO SLOWLY KILL MYSELF. I’m just so frustrated, and angry that these decisions get made without taking the people in them into account, and of course anxious and miserable. I’m currently dreading work in a way I haven’t since I was in text perms. It’s real bad. So I have to find a way to make it work or find a way out.

My February approach to that is to finish this Love It or Leave It book and see if I can’t divine where my true motivation lies, and also to research library school. I kind of would rather not go back to school. Not because I wouldn’t spend my entirely life in school if I could. I WOULD. But because it’s expensive and time intensive and there’s no promise my life will be better after it’s over. But every job I think I want pretty much requires that masters, so. We’ll look into it at least.

MONEY

Eating Out:

During the pandemic, one of my money sinks became DoorDash. I never used it before, because it costs literally twice as much as just going to get the food. (Also because I kind of like eating in restaurants alone. Ah, one day again I hope!) But the more afraid I became of the outside world, the less inclined I was to go into a restaurant to pick up take out, so I’ve had it brought to me. And I need to cut that shit out! I have food at home! My goal for January was to order out only 4 times a week. I managed this for three of the weeks, but when I blew it it was definitely those weeks at the very beginning and very end of the month where I was super stressed. The goal in February is to only order out 3 times a month.

Savings:

I need to open a high yield savings account. I’ve had the starting money for the move just sitting in my bank account making me no extra money for like, four months. The latest reason I haven’t moved it over is that I’m worried I’m going to owe a lot in taxes this year because of the partial unemployment I got. Hopes are that since it was a work share the taxes were taken out ahead of time, but I do not trust the government with my money as far as I can throw them, so. I’ll do my taxes this month and finally know for sure. And then I WILL move the rest of the money into a high yield savings account. I WILL.

Also, every time my credit union savings hits a grand, I’ll move $500 of that over into the high yield account to put toward moving expenses.

Budget:

I keep meaning to sit down and work out my new budget for 2021. I’m bringing home a little bit less in my paycheck because I changed my health insurance, and I’m also, of course, trying to save as much as I can ahead of moving so I don’t put anything on credit cards. (I’m doing so well paying those down!) This means I need to save everything I can and not spend money on stupid frivolous stuff. I’m not buying clothing like I did in the before times, but I AM spending too much money at Target still, because the app lets me just peruse any dumb idea I have and then pick it up that day! What a disaster! So, I really need to work something out. Or at least, I need to check my bank accounts more often and keep tabs on how much is actually going out. I have a bad out-of-sight-out-of-mind habit when it comes to bank accounts. Just another piece of me to try to cure this year.

And that’s it for January. I’m now late to bed because I’ve been working on this post for an hour and a half. Working on my sleep is also a goal, but we’ll see how exercise and the cpap handle that. Til next month!

#kitchen sink check in #to do #progress

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cherryamoureuse · 4 years

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paper rings | peter parker (soulmate au)

Tomorrow was your seventeenth birthday. You were finally going to be linked to your soulmate. Everyone’s connection was different. Some saw specific colors, others shared emotions. Your parents had been the latter. The bond does not show itself until both soulmates are seventeen. You will admit that your heart was yearning and hoping that it would be one specific person. Peter Parker. You were in the same chemistry class as the honey-eyed brunette. The pair of you have never exchanged more than a few words to each other in the two years that you had been classmates, much to your dismay. From the second that you had laid your eyes on him freshman year, you had been his. Today, walking into school had been anxiety ridden for you. While on the train to school, your head was taken up with the thought of soulmates.

Would your infatuation with Peter suddenly disappear? What if it didn’t? Wouldn’t your soulmate eventually find out your affection was so focused on someone else? What if Peter was your soulmate?

No, that is just wishful thinking on your part. Walking up the stone steps, you reached the entrance of Midtown High. As cliche as it sounds, you felt your heart skip a few beats as you walked through the double doors. Peter was standing by his locker, shifting through stacks of paper, with a pen loosely hanging between his lips. Feeling your stare, he looked up and gave you a lopsided smile that wrapped your heart in warmth. Quickly, your eyes flutter towards the grounds as you feel your cheeks heat up at being caught. Walking past him, you flash him a smile as you go to find MJ, who would surely be waiting for you by your locker. You greet her with a flustered smile and she eyes you suspiciously.

“What’s up with you? Your cheeks are the color of strawberries.” She lifts a finger and pokes at your left cheek.

“It’s nothing.” You assure her as you hide your face behind your locker door.

“Mhm, this wouldn't have anything to do with a certain nerd named Peter Parker, now would it? She says with a smirk lighting up her features. “You know, if you just talked to him you could already be his girlfriend.”

“As if, MJ.” You scoff at her. You and Peter are barely acquaintances at this point in time. He would smile at you when you make eye contact and make small talk at the science tables, but that was the extent of it. You were his chemistry seat partner, that’s all.

“What do you mean? Never forget that you’re the one that’s out of his league.”

“Sure,” You sigh. MJ had always seen the best in people, even if she was a tad guarded. “Tomorrow is my birthday anyways. I’m gonna find my soulmate.” You do smile a little at the thought. It is important to be independent, but it would be nice to find a forever with someone.

The two of you walk to English and take your seats.

The day passes by, and you are finally on your way home. Your apartment was empty, there was a note on the counter from your parents saying they wouldn’t be home for dinner and that there was money on the table for pizza. They were rarely ever home, due to their busy work schedules, but you were used to it. Kicking off your shoes, you make your way to your bedroom to start your homework. As the time goes by, you try not to stress about your soulmate situation. The closer it got to 12, the more anxious you became. Finally, the moment had come as your clock switched from pm to am. You let out a breath and waited. Nothing happened. You didn’t feel any different. Furrowing your brows, you go to the mirror to search for some marking, which was the most common form of soulmate matching. There was nothing to be found. You sat on your bed hoping to feel anything from your soulmate’s end. All you could feel and hear was silence. Maybe your soulmate hadn’t turned seventeen yet. Then a terrible thought had occurred to you. What if you had no soulmate? It was rare but there had been a few cases of people who had no bond. You were reaching all kinds of scenarios in your head when you heard your parents walk through the front door. You rush under the covers and pretend to be asleep, so they don’t ask you questions that would make you cry in your fragile state. You hear the door open and hushed whispers are shared, before it is closed once again. Falling asleep, you try not to focus on the worst case scenarios.

You are woken up by a loud voice. Startled, you glance over at your clock to see that it is 3am. There are two voices speaking about salicylic acid? Confusion and alarm are at the forefront of your emotions. There was no radio on, yet the voices continue to converse about science. Opening your window, you stick your head out and try to find the source, but the voices seemed to be directly in your head. An epiphany strikes you. It has to be your soulmate bond. A smile lights up your features as you finally understand. It was a rare connection to have. Music. You and your soulmate could hear whatever music- or in your case, podcast- the other was listening to. An excited giggle forces it way out of your throat as you listen to scientific procedures. Why your soulmate would be up at 3am and listening to a science podcast was beyond you, but you were relieved to know that you were not without a soulmate. You thought about putting on your own music to let them know that you were there, but you didn’t want to disturb your other half. Your eyelids grow heavy and you are once again drifting back to sleep with thoughts of the periodic table.

Waking up at 6 am on a Saturday with just 4 hours of sleep under your belt was not difficult to do when you were excited for the prospect of hearing whatever your soulmate heard. There had been no new sounds in your mind since this morning, but you knew that if you began listening to a song, they would hear it and be as surprised as you had been. You had spent the morning racking your brain for the perfect song to play your soulmate. Nothing too heavy, you wanted a soft introduction. Searching your Spotify playlist, you found the perfect song. Holding your breath, you press play on Taylor Swift’s Invisible String. The intro starts and you wait. The song plays and finishes without interruption. You don’t play anything, hoping for some sort of response. Your heart is beating out of your chest as the same opening intro is played back before stopping. It worked, they had heard you! Excitement coursed through your veins. Freaking out, you look for another song to play for your soulmate. After half an hour, there had been no response. You were disappointed, but you brushed it off as your soulmate just getting busy. Around 8, you decided to take a quick shower. Normally, you would be playing music and singing in the shower, but you didn’t want to bother or annoy your soulmate. The silence was awkward for you. Brushing your hair, you decided to throw caution to the wind and play your everyday playlist. The soft sound of Clairo’s Bags fills the room. You keep the volume low as you hum and sing along. Then, Paper Rings starts playing and you can’t help but turn it up a little and sing into your hairbrush. You finish your nightly routine and head to bed. The weekend went by with no sounds on your soulmate’s end. It was frustrating to say the least, but you tried not to get worked up about it. Lover had been your album of choice for the weekend. Paper Rings had been on repeat for almost 2 days straight. You couldn’t help it. The song just elevated your mood. And with the mountain of assignments you had to do, you needed the boost. You popped your headphones in and started your walk to school. Taylor Swift accompanies you through your subway stops. Walking through the doors, your eyes immediately go to Peter’s locker. He’s standing and talking to Ned. He looks up when you enter and waves at you. You take out your headphones and pause your music to wave back at him. His hand stops its movement as soon as you begin waving back. He seems to be frozen in place as his mouth parts in disbelief. You drop your hand and your smile, thinking that you had done something wrong and cringe internally. Wrapping up your headphones, you walk past Peter, whose eyes are following you. His expression stays the same. Turning the corner, you run to MJ, telling her about your soulmate and your bizarre interaction with Peter.

“Wait,” she interrupts your rambling about how Peter reacted to your wave. “You waved at Peter? That’s so unlike you. Maybe that’s why he freaked.”

Thinking about it, Peter doesn’t usually wave at you when you walk in. Normally the two of you would exchange only a smile in the mornings.

Sliding into your seat in Chemistry, your leg bounces as you psych yourself up to talk to Peter. You wanted to get past the shy responses you always gave him. Having a soulmate had built up your confidence and you were ready to try and be Peter’s friend. You catch his eyes as he walks through the door frame and into the classroom. Your heart flutters, but you will the feeling away. You had a soulmate out there and it was not Peter Parker. This time it is him who averts his gaze and blushes. He walks down the aisle to his normal seat next to you. For some reason, you are hyper aware of his proximity today and you want nothing more than to melt into his side. You shake the thought from your head. What is up with you today? You turn to him.

“Hi, Peter.” Your voice sounds small amongst the loudness of the room, but his head perks up to look at you.

“Hi, Y/N. Wow, you’ve never been the one to talk first.” He laughs, but stops as he sees your face fall. You hadn’t wanted to seem standoffish, you were just painfully shy around him.

“I’m sorry, I-I” You blush a scarlet red as you stumble over your words.

“N-No, don’t apologize. It was just surprising. I’m glad you’re talking to me,” He assures you with a gentle, close-lipped smile and a hand on your arm. Warmth spreads around the area where his palm meets your cardigan. You could sigh at the feeling. “Happy Birthday, by the way. Big seventeen.” He rubs his neck.

“Yeah, thank you. I didn’t know you knew about my birthday.”

“MJ told me.” You nod at his rushed explanation and a comfortable silence washes over. Peter breaks it by asking you a question. “Sorry if it’s personal, but did you find out what your soulmate bond was? Y-you don’t have to answer, I’m just curious.”

Before you could answer, the teacher began explaining the assignment for today. You and Peter finished the paper just as the bell rang, signalling the end of the class period. Peter offers to walk with you to your locker. You nod in acceptance. You break the silence once you reach your locker.

“Um I did get my soulmate bond by the way, it’s bizarre. Mine is a music connection, but my soulmate has only listened to one science podcast so far. It was at 3 in the morning too.” You laugh and look over to see Peter looking at you with the same expression from this morning. You see him duck down to pull his phone out of his backpack and frantically untangle his headphones.

His movements were startling and you reached a hand out to his shoulder. “Are you okay, Peter?”

He doesn’t respond. His tongue pokes out of the side of his mouth, as he concentrates on his task. He finally untangles the knots and plugs in the wire, with the headphones situated in his ear. He taps away at the screen. All of a sudden, you hear the all too familiar opening of Paper Rings, your song of choice this past weekend. You gasp as Peter looks up at you and turns his phone around showing you the cover art to none other than Taylor Swift’s Lover album. You reach down and pause the song. Silence falls between the two of you as you try and process what had just happened.

“Y-You.. You’re m-my soulmate?” You know you must look insane, but there is so much happening in your mind that it’s a miracle you can even form the words.

Peter watches you carefully as he stands up. “Y-yeah, I mean, I had a suspicion from the weekend and this morning, but yeah. I h-hoped it was you.” He admits shyly.

Your heart could burst. Here was Peter Parker, the boy you had been hoping was your soulmate, admitting that he had hoped the same thing. Here was Peter Parker, your soulmate. Before you can even process the words, they are coming out of your mouth in quick succession, “Can I kiss you?”

He seems a bit startled but recovers and gives a small nod. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck and delicately press your lips to his. He is hesitant at first, but soon leans into the kiss and places his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You pull away from lack of air, but press your foreheads together. Peter laughs.

You look up at him and smile. “What?”

“You really like Taylor Swift, don’t you? I’m tired of hearing that song bouncing around in my head. I don’t know how someone could listen to the same song for so long.”

“Shut up. You didn’t even listen to any music at all.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you. Plus, you listen to enough music for the both of us.”

He leans down again to place another kiss on your lips. His arms are still wrapped tightly around you. You were perfectly happy to stay in his embrace forever. Thanking the heaven’s for whoever was responsible for making him the perfect match for you, you kiss him back.

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

darling, you're the one I want

In paper rings in picture frames in all my dreams

You're the one I want

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker #tom holland #tom holland imagine #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x y/n #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader

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nox-bones · 4 years

Text

Little bit of a rant here..might put under read more bc idk how long it’ll be. Gonna be mentions of covid-19 *no one has it just mentioning it* but yeah. Just having a lot of anxiety about shit and I need to vent it out.

So Tuesday morning I got an email from my boss asking for my new availability so they can start making up schedules for all the therapists (and I’m assuming front desk too) when we re-open, so that we get the most optimized schedule that’s as fully booked as possible.

The problem is. We don’t know when we’re gonna be able to re-open - Originally they slated April 17 (so this Friday) to open back up, and now they’ve pushed it to April 26 (which, okay, but Florida is under a stay at home order until April 30th soooooo idk wtf they think about opening before that but okay).

The othe problem is - THERE STILL ISNT A FUCKING VACCINE FOR THIS STUPID CORONAVIRUS BULLSHIT!! WHY!! THE FUCK!!! WOULD YOU!! RE OPEN A CLINIC!!! OF MASSAGE THERAPISTS AND ESTHETICIANS!!! TO THE PUBLIC!!! WHILE THERE IS NO FUCKING VACCINE ?!?!!?!?!?

Like I get we can clean, wipe down, sanitize, and all that mumbo jumbo but none of us truly KNOWS where these clients are coming from, who they’ve been around, if they’re sick or not (they may not even know themselves), how often they wash their hands or keep up general cleanliness, etc. WE KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THEIR HABITS AND WHERE THEY’VE BEEN.

WHY would you fucking RISK the lives of (a) your employees, (b) your clients, and (c) everyone’s family and friends who end up getting exposed to all the above?!?!! Like I know businesses really only give a fucking fuck about money and profit and shit, but peoples’ LIVES are fucking more important than your goddamn business.

I am so fucking sick of how society runs with business. Money is NOT everything. I know we need it to do things and have homes and food and shit, but I for one am not gonna risk my fucking life or anyone else’s lives for money. I’ll find some other remote fucking job where I don’t have to be around people and possibly contract the virus.

It’s not to say that our clinic WILL open in April - we might not even open again for another year depending on how everything goes, but I’ve made up my mind to just...not go back.

I’ve wanted to quit for a while, long before this pandemic even started. I want to move on with my life, and move out of Florida, and finally start living the life that I want to live. This pandemic has given me the opportunity to do just that (minus the moving bc gotta wait until after vaccinations start happening and it’s safe again), and I am gonna grill myself so hard to get a new remote job (it might take a while, but I’m determined to get something going for myself because I need to get OUT asap).

I’m supposed to be having a call or conversation sometime later today (thursday - it’s currently 5 AM that I’m writing this...and they want the schedule by 3pm...but I probably won’t wake up until 2pm lol). I am prepared to have “the talk” with them about not returning when we re-open (especially if we re-open before a vaccine is released bc I am just not willing to risk it). I might share my sentiments about it (in a professional calm manner), but ultimately I have decided to quit my job.

I’m finally gonna file for unemployment (god that took fucking forever but I’m gonna be mailing it out either this weekend or monday). I also just got the $1200 stimulus check, and I still need to file my taxes, so I’ll have some money for a little bit to hold me over and save on, but I do need to find a remote job either part time or full time so I can get myself out of Florida when the time comes.

But when I read that email from my boss, I had such a horrible anxiety attack. I was not prepared in the least to hear that we may be re-opening in the next few weeks, and that they want a new availability. I haven’t had a chance to think about work because I’ve been dealing with a bunch of other bs. :/

Now suddenly it’s in my face, and we only had 2 days notice? I mean, I understand if my boss only had a 2 day notice, but the people above them shouldn’t fucking plan so horribly. 2 days to figure out what everyone wants to do is not enough time. Even if I was gonna go back to work for them, it took me a whole fucking month to figure out what I wanted my full time schedule to be...how do you expect me to do it in less than 2 days?!?!

I’m just so irritated, frustrated, stressed, anxiety-ridden, and I just can’t handle it. I mean, I will handle it and I’m doing my best, but it’s fucking hard and I don’t talk about it enough about how much I’m struggling emoitonally/mentally with everything. I’m no good at telling people how I really feel. I never have been (I mean, I type up posts and shit but that’s different than directly talking to someone). I’m not gonna say it outright, but that thing that depression often leads to when someone is at their point of no return...yeah..I’ve been down here for a while and fighting back and forth. I’ve been pushing through, and I think I’ll be able to keep fighting it and pushing myself, but it’s still there in the background of my thoughts. I think about it a lot now.

Sigh T_T :(

I think I’m done ranting now. I don’t know if I feel better or not, but eh.

I think the only things that will suck about not returning to my current workplace is not seeing my coworkers again, and not seeing my regular clients (who I’ve seen for the past 3 1/2 years) again :/ but sometimes that’s how life is I guess...

let’s see if I get any sleep today ;--;

#long post #read more #coronavirus #coviid-19 #only mentions of it but ya #pp #im so tired #mentally #emotionally #just ugh #:(

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heechulhamster · 6 years

Text

Speed Dial- Park Chanyeol

PARK CHANYEOL X READER

Angst, Fluff, College!AU

Trigger Warning: The character has anxiety and self harms. Do not read if you are triggered by any of those. Please. And if you experience such, remember that we are here for you. You matter, you’re important, you are loved. And don’t be afraid to seek professional help. Your feelings are valid, your thoughts matter, and you deserve to be heard.

It wasn’t something that’s easy to notice but Park Chanyeol had a very keen eye. Seeking something you made sure to be extremely obscure. If it wasn’t for the new rules of the laboratory you’ve been partners at, your secret would’ve been still safe.

You’ve hidden your scars under the long sleeves of your jackets. The scars that have shown how you coped with the stress, the sudden flood of emotions, the pain that you thought you deserved. It was all a secret beneath a piece of cloth. But when your new Biology instructor changed the rules and regulations in the laboratory, that secret was at high risk to be revealed.

Chanyeol always knew something was up with you. You’ve always been silent and reclusive, which most can mistake as you being aloof. But he was quick to sense that it wasn’t the case. Every Wednesday and Friday, he inched closer to your soul in little ways. He sparked short conversations prior to and after the said class. Random things from questions regarding your other classes or your upbringing, which you answered with a short and direct to the point reply. It was when he joked about the hair, or lack thereof, of your Biology instructor that he saw the first time you smiled. And it was the day he promised himself that he’d do anything to see it again.

But after that day, the roller coaster ride that was your life had more downs than ups. The situation in your own family snowballed into problems that affected your daily life. You’ve been kept awake at night by the thoughts that flooded your mind. All the what could, what will, what ifs, and whys that rang like a morning bell never gave you rest. Reaching a point where you could only blame yourself, and you believe that you deserved the pain you inflicted yourself.

You were able to conceal the truth under jackets for a good number of weeks. But when your professor said that you are only supposed to use the half sleeved white lab gowns during the hour, you knew that your partner was going to notice.

It was the very same day that Chanyeol took notice of the pain you put yourself through. He was unsure if he should address the elephant in the room. It was surely a sore topic, so he tried to approach you as discreetly as he can.

“What have you been up to lately?” Chanyeol blurted after the class was dismissed.

“Same old things, school, home, and re-runs of Gossip Girl.” You added a faint laugh.

“Hmm, how about breaking the cycle? I’m gonna play on the nearby cafe tomorrow. I’d appreciate if you’d come!” He suggested, being his sunny, happy, self.

“I’ll try, Chanyeol. But I’ve been lagging behind schoolwork lately and I really need to catch up. Tell me the next time you’ll play okay?” You said with a small smile as you grabbed your bag and started walking. You felt a hand over your shoulder and looked back at your lab partner.

“Don’t stress yourself too much, okay?” Chanyeol donned one of the sweetest smiles you’ve ever seen. And you knew what exactly he was talking about. Of course he’s seen your arm when you held the microscope, how careless could you just be?

You were nervous of showing up that Friday. Someone already knew your secret, and he could easily report you to the guidance counselors. Just thinking about the endless interrogation about your current state, the invasion of your hard kept secrets, telling out the stories you never even wanted to experienced stressed the shit out of you.

You tried to cover the lines on your wrists as much as possible on that span of two hours. You don’t even know why you still bothered when he already seen it. It was a manifestation of how anxious you just were. And another is that you covered the lines by habit.

The moment your professor dismissed the class, a small paper was beside your elbow.

“Happy Hotline ^_^” followed by a phone number was written messily on the paper. You looked at the face of the source, you’ve been faced by the innocent smile yet again.

“What’s this for?” You chuckled a little on his adorable demeanor.

“It’s the happy hotline for you. If you need a little dose of cheering up.” You appreciated the effort he showed, but felt a little uneasy of your unusual behavior being the obvious reason that this was happening.

“Chanyeol can we keep this thing a little secret between us two? I just don’t want being counseled - just the thought stresses me out and I.. and I...” You started spiraling into the panic vortex. ‘

An all too familiar hand touched your arm, “Hey, hey. It’s okay. Just don’t do it again, promise? Call me when it hits. Call me in the middle of the night, I won’t mind. Seriously. Wait - ah. Give me your phone.” Your phone was already on your hand and unlocked so it was easy for him to snatch it away.

You saw Chanyeol type into the phone and he returned it in your hands afterwards.

“I’m on speed dial. Just please, promise me. You’ll call okay?” He said with pleading eyes. Concern ridden in his face.

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“You won’t. Seeing that bothers me even more. Knowing that I could do something. Please, call.” At this point, both of Chanyeol’s hands were now situated on your arms. And you nodded, somehow you gravitated towards his warmth. His smile, his eyes that never failed to show emotions, his humor, maybe you needed a little bit of it in your life.

You found yourself using the speed dial later that night. The wave of school works and the lack of sleep messed up with your hormones and you needed to calm down. You needed another voice to hear except the noise in your mind. You needed to lean on something before you collapse on your own. You needed Chanyeol.

“Hey, who’s this?” His voice resonated sweetly in your ears. You blushed at the thought that he picked up in less than three rings.

“I figured that I needed a little bit of happiness..” You said with a smile on your face.

“Oh it’s you! I’m glad you called. I thought you’d just delete my number and mark me off as your weird lab partner for the rest of the semester.” He joked.

“I think I’m the weirdo between us two. But yeah, I called so your number is still residing on my phone.” You chuckled. For whatever reason, his vibe was contagious. Chanyeol really deserved to be called a happy hotline because his jolly attitude just transmitted through the phone. You needed this, you needed someone to divert you from your dark thoughts. You needed someone to shed you some light.

“So, what’s up?” He asked. And when it took you a minute or more to respond, Chanyeol realized that he pulled on the wrong strings and spoke once more. “What about I share first? You okay with listening on my endless chatter?” You laughed at his self deprecation, nodding on the other end of the line as if he’d see.

He started telling stories about his last gig. How he cracked his voice due to the cold environment but ended up singing more songs. One topic led to another and it went to his favorite cartoon in childhood. Chanyeol cannot be stopped once he started sharing, and he was a delight to talk to for you. It was like he opened a new dimension with light, an area that you were eager to explore. Somehow the more he told about himself, the more you wanted to know.

You looked at the clock and realized you’ve been talking for two hours non stop. You glanced on the paperwork that sat atop your desk and realized that you’ve been really slacking off, and the criticism you’ll give yourself afterwards would be worse if you don’t start accomplishing things now.

“Hey, Yeol.” You started with the nickname he asked you to use. “I realized that we’ve been talking on the phone for hours now and I still have paperwork to do.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for bothering.” He said with a concerned and guilty tone.

“No, if anything it’s me that bothered you. I’m thankful for the good talk. Save your childhood stories for the next time okay, I want to hear more.” You could feel as if your wide smile, something that has been so rare on your face for the past few months, could rip your face in two. But again, Chanyeol had that effect.

After a few goodbyes,you hung up the phone. And it was one of the nights that the noise in your mind has been silent, for all that rang in your head was Chanyeol’s laugh. How he giggled when he talked about his hobbies. His enthusiasm when he talked about the songs he’s written.

It carried on for days, somehow calling Chanyeol has become part of your daily schedule. Sometime’s he’s the one who would initiate the call. You started opening up to him. There were nights where you were talking about trivial, yet happy things. But there was the inevitable moments where your thoughts got the best of you. You’d just cry on the phone as he listened, muttering a few assuring words and letting you speak.

The Wednesdays and Fridays became the highlight of your dreadful week. The two hours of each day that you got to be together was like a safe time for you. Void of all the monsters in your head, as the hero who killed them for you was right by your side. And it gave birth to another monster, another voice that kept you awake.

You knew that you were falling for your happy pill. It plagued your mind how his voice became your safety. How the late night calls became the reason you’re excited to wake up in the morning. And the way the dreadful Laboratory meetings became the best part of your week.

The fear started building up, what if he was just doing this out of pity? Out of charity? That Chanyeol stuck with you because he saw the urgency in your eyes, in the lines that filled your wrists. But the moment you’re okay, he’ll realize that his act of kindness was over. You feared that moment.

Yet you still found yourself on the University green house where he asked to meet you. He told you he was playing for a special audience and he wanted you to be there. But there was no audience there. The only sight to see was the lot of plants that blossomed in the glass covers, and the tall, handsome, sunshine of a man that sat on the bench with his guitar.

You approached Chanyeol and laid your bag on the bench.

“Where’s the audience? Don’t tell me they stood you up.” A hint of sadness in your voice. You know how passionate Chanyeol was about his music and the thought of him being stood up by an audience just made your mouth turn sour.

“Nah, they’re here. They’re complete.” He said with a smile.

You looked around, still no one there to accompany you two.

“Uhm, Yeol there’s no one else here.”

“Exactly, you’re my special audience since you always concoct an excuse when I ask you to come to my shows.” You laughed with the guilt.

He started playing a song, one that you knew because he put it in a playlist he sent you. It was Up&Up by Coldplay, one of his favorite bands. His voice wasn’t the best, but it was all you wanted to hear. You let yourself be lost in the sight and soud of Chanyeol, letting go of all worries that he might be aware of your feelings. This time you wanted to spoil yourself, indulge yourself in what makes you happy. And it was the man in front of you.

“Thank you so much, Chanyeol.” You said the moment he finished his song. The smile after the bliss of performing still wandered in his face.

“You don’t have to thank me for anything. It was just what I wanted to do.” Somehow, you understood that he wasn’t just talking about playing a song.

“But why? Why do this? Why carry my burden? Why me?” The questions flew out your mouth in a great speed you weren’t even able to control.

“Because I want to.” He said in a matter of fact tone.

“I don’t understand why anyone would want to help me, Yeol. I’m a mess, I’m a sad piece of failure that is unworthy, unlovable.” Your voice shattered in front of him. His smile slowly faded as his hand slowly find its way to yours.

“Unlovable? Then tell me what’s wrong with me.” Your forehead formed a knot on his choice of words.

“Unworthy? I wouldn’t waste all my nights for something I don’t see worth in, you know. And if you feel as if you’re unlovable, I might have been doing a bad job.” A frown marked a place on what used to be a smile.

“Chanyeol?” You asked, signaling him to clear up his point.

But instead of using words, his lips formed another explanation when it landed on yours. His hands cupped your cheeks as he planted a soft kiss on your lips, moving sweetly and slowly, as if letting the motion make up for the lack of words in his explanation. You felt all the blood rise up your cheeks, this moment was one of the things that kept you awake at night. You wondered so much how it would feel, but now it was happening.

Breathless, Chanyeol parted his lips from yours. “If you’re unlovable, how come I’ve fallen so madly inlove with you?” He said as he held your face and rested his forehead on yours.

He slowly grabbed your hand and flipped it over, revealing the lines that held the place of what used to be your wounds. He brought it closer to his lips and chastely planted kisses on it.

“I wanted to make this fade away. To help you forget the pain. I want to be there because I want to be with you. And you hurting yourself hurts me too.” His hand went back to your cheeks.

“And I can feel it, that you feel it too. So just let me love you. Let me show you the things, the beautiful things I see in you.” And this time, it was your time to initiate the kiss. And it was an answer good enough for him. Because you were in a dark place, but Chanyeol was the one who shined the light back in your life. Chanyeol was your sunshine. And with that light, you felt saved. You felt loved.

#exo fanfic #exo imagine #exo #chanyeol #chanyeol imagine #chanyeol fanfic #park chanyeol #exol #kpop imagine #kpop fanfic

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avengersassemble-fics · 6 years

Text

Just Go With It

Previous Chapter

Link to Master Post

Word Count (3,132)

AN: long awaited im sorry im an anxiety and stress ridden person, if i was a dog i probably would be a chihuahua but here we go!

The sun filtered in through the windows around your room, and you were very content with staying wrapped in these warm blankets. You groaned, tossing your head back on the pillows on the mattress as you prepared yourself to get up. You had to get up, you had to get your mind off of everything, and you had to see this through.

You threw the blankets off of you and stood, grabbing your light robe and pushed your arms through, and opened your bedroom door. Right as you walked down the hall you were met with the sweet smell of coffee and eggs, and Steve turned slightly to look at you, “Good morning,” he greeted.

Steve turned around and in a few seconds he placed a plate of two fried eggs and toast popped out your toaster, “I figured you had a late night, and that this time I’d cook.”

You smiled softly and walked over to the coffee maker and grabbed a mug out of the overhead cabinet, and proceeded to pour yourself a cup, “Yeah, it was.. intense.”

You fought the flashes of memories of the night and sipped the hazelnut concoction in your hand, and slid next to Steve, “How do you like your eggs?” he asked. You took another quick sip, needing as much caffeine in your system as possible, you set the mug down and reached across his large body for the pepper shaker, “A little well done, I really like the edges to be crunchy.”

Steve chuckled as your shook a little more pepper onto the egg that was cooking, “Crunchy edges, I’ll make sure to remember that.”

Your phone began to rang and you slapped his shoulder, grabbing your phone out of your robe, and taking a seat on a bar stool not even glancing at the name that was calling, “Hello?”

“Good morning, sunshine,” Tony Stark’s voice rang in your ear and you almost choked on the present sip of coffee you had in your mouth.

“Mr. Stark!” you exclaimed, trying not to cough, and fanned your face, Steve had turned around to hand you your plate, and leaned back against the counter to watch the exchange, “what-what can I do for you?”

“I just got off the phone with James, and he told me about how late you had stayed last night and what happened,” oh god “and I just wanted to thank you for putting in so much hard work, but I know that took time away from you and Steve.”

You shook your head, “Oh really, he doesn’t mind, he knows how big this case is.”

“Still, I know how hard it must be for you two to try seeing as he comes only on Fridays, so I wanted to give you the day off.”

“Oh Mr. Stark,” you placed your hand on your forehead, “really, we’re fine!”

“No I won’t have it,” he explained, “I also found the perfect listing for you two to see! My friend Rhodey is an agent, and he told me about this place that sounded perfect for you two. I’ve sent a car already, just let me know your thoughts!”

“Mr. Stark..” before you could finish he said his goodbyes and that he was looking forward to seeing you two tomorrow night for dinner, and hung up. You held the phone against your ear and just closed your eyes.

“What’s he saying?” Steve asked with a raised brow.

“Nothing, he hung up I’m just wondering how I let this get to this point,” you set the phone down and clapped your hands, “so he sent us a car and wants us to go look at a place!”

Steve still had a raised brow and raised his finger, almost pointing at you, “Woah wait, a place? A place for..?”

You groaned, “He thinks we’re still looking for a place to live together when we.. well y’know, get married.”

Steve nodded and let a small ah out of his mouth, you shook your head, “I’m sorry, Steve.. I’m so so sorry I’m getting you wrapped up in all of this,” you said quietly, and began to fiddle your thumb again.

“Woah woah woah woah, okay no hey,” Steve rambled as he walked around the tiny island and sat next to you. He slowly turned you to face him as he spoke, “you didn’t have a choice (Y/N). This wasn’t your idea, and I know this wasn’t the way you wanted to get that job,” Steve pushed a small piece of hair behind your ear, “so let’s just make the best of this, yeah? Let’s have our breakfast, and go see the place, and then you can show me around the city.”

As he spoke you just nodded along. He was right. You didn’t ask for any of this! Wasn’t even your idea, it was Nat’s. And if you came clean, you never would’ve been given the case you deserved.

“Okay alright,” you smiled as you looked down at Steve’s large hands wrapped around your small ones, and how they were stroking the back of your hand, “so breakfast and then out on the town.”

So you two had breakfast, side by side and quietly and then you excused yourself to change. You slid on a pair of black jeans, and grabbed a light shirt and tucked it into the front of your jeans, and finally slid on a comfortable pair of shoes before hearing your phone vibrate. You sat on the edge of your bed and ran a hand through your loose hair.

The message was from James.

“I didn’t think he’d give you the day off to be with him.”

You sighed and bit your lip, when a message from Natasha stopped you from replying, and in the background you heard a knock at your front door.

“Stark gave you a car and a day off? Man I wish I were you right now.”

You grumbled, typing out a quick reply, “He sent a car, and wants us to go meet his realtor friend to show us a place. When this is all over, you’re dead.”

At the sight of the little three dots, you turned your screen off and threw open your bedroom door, hearing Steve’s voice carry down the hall to you, when your phone vibrated again. It was another message from Nat.

“Oh honey.. you don’t know yet do you.”

Just as you were about to reply, there was another message from Bucky, only saying “I miss you. I need to see you.”

No. No no no. You shoved your phone into your pocket and walked down the remainder of the hallway and came face to face with Steve twirling something in his hand, “What’s that?”

“Hm? Oh nothing just,” he held up a pair of car keys, “your boss may have given us a car.”

So there you two were. An hour later, stuck in traffic, heading out of the city to the North. Steve had one hand on the wheel, the other arm rested against the center console, and he just had the biggest smile on his face, “Seriously it’s been how long since you’ve driven?”

You laughed and hit his arm, “There’s no need! I can walk to work, there’s Taxi’s, Uber, Lyft, you gotta get with the times.”

Steve shook his head, “Imagine having to pay all those fares while stuck in this traffic,” he motioned ahead of him, “how much further is this place?”

You glanced down at your phone while a small um, left your lips, “30 more minutes actually. And y’know what? Stop your griping old man.”

Steve stared over at you before quickly focusing back on the road, “Did you just call me old man?”

You stifled a laugh by placing your fingers against your lips, and looking out the window, “Yeah maybe I did.”

After another forty five minutes your phone announce that you had arrived. You were sitting at the end of a cul-de-sac in a small and quiet neighborhood, but there was no house on the street, all you could see was a long driveway.

“It’s down there isn’t it?”

Steve nodded, and you sighed, “Do we really have to do this?”

“We came this far, might as well see it, right?”

You grumbled and nodded, “Okay fine, alright! I see why you chose to teach Mr. I’m-Always-Right.”

Steve laughed, pointing the car down the driveway and past the open iron gate, “It’s Mr. Doing-the-Right-Thing, actually.”

Just as you were going to reply, Steve had turned the graceful corner and there sat the most beautiful house you had ever seen. It sat nicely in the middle of a large plot of land, and driveway looped around the front and towards a garage off to the side of the house. You couldn’t tell if your mouth had fallen open, but you didn’t care at this point.

“Jesus..” he muttered and came to a stop at the front of the house, a sidewalk led to the front steps of the plantation style home, and you turned to him.

“You sure you wanna go in?”

“Don’t think we have much of a choice,” he motioned to the steps and you spun around to see a man exiting the house, who you could only assume was ‘Rhodey’ as Mr. Stark called him. He waved with a smile on his face, before re-buttoning his suit jacket, and Steve was already turning the engine off and opening his door, “Sit tight,” he said before closing his door.

You watched him walk around the car and pulled on the handle of your door, and a nice warm breeze hit you. Steve offered his hand, and you took it, your eyes not leaving his, as a sudden wave of nervousness hit you. You stood, and Steve closed the door behind you, before lacing his fingers between yours, and your stomach fluttered.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he whispered close to your ear and you nodded, taking your first steps towards Rhodey, and up the stairs.

The man beamed at you two as you stepped onto he gorgeous wooden porch, “You must be (Y/N)!” he exclaimed and reach out for your hand to shake, then did the same to Steve, “And you’re the mysterious Steve.”

“That would be me,” he said with a slight shrug, and the two men laughed.

“Well, my names is James,” he started and your stomach dropped, “why don’t we go inside?” he motioned to the double doors, and pushed one open.

Holy. Shit.

You had never stepped in anything more..more beautiful. It opened into a short hallway, that opened up to the main floor, a white cabinet lined kitchen the first thing you see to your right, and the wood floor flowing into the whole space.

You felt yourself pulled inside by the house, and the door closed behind you two. You were in your own little world.

“So this home is four bedrooms, three bath with a mother in law suite just off the kitchen there,” he motioned to your left, “the master is downstairs and the remainder are all upstairs, giving you plenty of room for..growth,” he said and your turned to look at him, your eyes noticeably glazed over.

“Please, feel free to look around on your own,” he finished and you nodded, finally looking over to Steve, who was all but watching you, doing his best to control a chuckle. You were starstruck, he could tell.

You moved first pulling him into the kitchen, and you released his hand to touch the dark grey granite countertops, “I think I’m in love,” you said to him, touching and opening everything you could. One drawer was actually a small fridge, the stove was gas, one glass door cabinet lit up when you opened it, and you spun around to look at Steve who was next to the fridge, “this is the best kitchen-” and then you gasped, “is that a double oven?!”

You rushed over, Steve darting out of your way, “I had no idea you were so passionate about kitchens,” he joked as you held onto the oven and you peered inside.

“If there’s one thing I took from my mother, it’s the appreciation of a kitchen layout,” you tapped your chin, “speaking of, where's the pantry?”

Steve walked into the living room, completely open from the kitchen and looked to the left where a door was open, “Oh it’s there,” he motioned and your rushed over and stood in the door frame before gasping, “what?” he asked.

“It a walk in.. now this is a pantry.”

And that’s how the rest of the tour was, Steve watched you giddily walk around the whole house, gawking and mesmerizing over every little detail that you cared about. James Rhodes gave you his card and even told you he was holding this listing if you two were interested. You thanked him and expressed how much you loved it, and as the sun began to fall, Steve and you were headed back into the city.

This ride was quieter, the radio playing softly in the background as he drove and you just looked out the window, humming along to the music. Steve occasionally glanced over to you as he drove, listening to the directions the phone spit out every once in awhile until you were in a familiar area. You finally turned to look at him, “Pull in there,” you said while you sat at a red light.

“The garage?” he asked looking at the one coming up to his right and you nodded.

“Yeah, park in there.” you instructed, and when the stop light turned green, he swung the car into the garage and a few minutes later was lucky enough to find a parking spot. He shifted the car into park and you unbuckled yourself.

“Wait where are we going?” Steve asked, quickly undoing himself as you opened your door, He barely had his open when you closed yours and began to walk, “Oh come on (Y/N)! Hold up!” he called after you and you smiled to yourself.

“Come on old man, you wanted to see the city and I’m gonna show you the city.”

Steve had finally caught up to you as you both exited the garage he looked down towards you, “I’m from Brooklyn, you know,” he nudged you and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” you replied, nudging him back in his side, “but I want to show you something.”

Steve nodded, and walked beside you through the crowded street, noting that you two were pretty close to your apartment building from what he could remember about the surroundings, but you led him down another few blocks away, and the people seemed to almost disappear. It was quiet, and it was noticeably cooler than before. The sun was positioned lower, giving the city an orange hue as you grabbed his hand, pulling him out of his daze, “Come here,” you motioned up to a townhouse, where it looked like there was a gangle of people inside.

“So where are we?” he asked as you walked up the steps, and from the window he could see a red headed woman sip at her drink and meet his eyes, then almost dash to the door.

“I thought it’d be fun to introduce you to,” the door swung open, and you motioned forward, “Natasha Romanoff.”

Nat had her hip on the door and her drink in one hand as she reached out for Steve to take the other, “Truly a pleasure,” she smiled beautifully at him and he glanced your way before taking her hand with a smile, “hm nice grip. Why don’t you two come in.”

She opened the door wider and you led him in, there was small group of people in her living room and a couple in the kitchen pouring themselves drinks. Natasha put her arm on Steve’s back, guiding him away from you, and you hadn’t even noticed you were still holding his hand until his fingers dragged form your palm.

“Steve, this is my husband, Clint,” she introduced, and the two men looked at each other with a half smile, “Clint, distract him while we go talk about Steve.”

You narrowed your eyes as she dragged your away, and you mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ towards your fake fiancé, who nodded slightly before you disappeared around the corner.

“I’m glad you came,” she said as she pulled a whine glass out off the counter and started to pour you a drink, “first tell me, how was that house?”

“Oh Nat.. It really was beautiful. Really like a dream come true.”

She grinned and handed you your glass, and you tapped it with your finger, causing her to raise her brow, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, taking a quick glance over your shoulder, “I just feel bad, with the whole.. y’know.”

“Oh the whole James and you sleeping together thing?” Her saying that made you take a deep breath and take a large sip of your drink.

“Listen, it was just sex, and Steve and you aren’t..together for real, don’t feel bad,” she touched your arm, “but really, wow he is easy on the eyes.”

You smiled as she walked back towards her husband, and you caught a quick glimpse of Steve. He really was easy on the eyes. Especially those pretty blue eyes, and his short beard and soft looking hair.

You realized you didn’t really know much about him, just a very teeny tiny bit. You took another sip of your drink and decided to go over to him. He was chatting with another guy, slightly shorter, you recognized him a bit from Nat’s circle of friends, and stood to the side before Steve noticed you there.

“Hey,” he greeted with a smile and motioned over to his new friend, “have you met Sam?”

“Nope don’t think so,” you replied, and Steve almost automatically wrapped an arm around you and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

“Sam this is (Y/N), I thought you two would know each other since you run in the same crowd.”

“Ah well, we may work together, but no where near one another, just hearsay really.”

There was a knock on the front door that you were able to tune out, and you found yourself slowly lean into Steve’s side. You were relaxed, a very very slight buzz caused a warming sensation in your throat, as you felt Steve breath evenly beside you. You raised your glass to your lips as you heard a familiar laugh behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, and had to do a double take at the person entering Natasha’s home.

James was here.

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#Steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america fic #captain america x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fic #professor au #friends to lovers #Chris Evans #Sebastian Stan

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itsallavengers · 7 years

Text

Coming Home

The airport was crowded and the air was stale and Tony Stark was waiting.

He had been doing so for exactly 4 hours, 35 minutes and 12 seconds- that was when he'd arrived at the airport, anyway. And Steve was supposed to have arrived exactly 17 minutes and 9 seconds ago, which meant that Tony was currently waiting even more than he had been 17 minutes and 9 s-

Okay, maybe that was enough numbers for now.

Tony tapped his foot anxiously, eyes searching the crowds for the zillionth time as various people flooded through arrivals. Unfortunately, not any of the travellers were remotely important to Tony- not right then anyway. He was looking for a very particular individual; one who was currently running 17 minutes and 15 seconds late.

Goddamn it, Steve was always punctual. This was a terrible sign.

He breathed as deeply as he could and swallowed. It was just the nerves; the constant anxiety he’d been holding onto in the nine months Steve had been gone bubbling up to the surface all at once. He never dealt very well with stress. Especially not Steve-related stresses. So, of course, the letter he’d received three weeks ago saying Steve Rogers had been involved in an IED explosion and was currently being held in some backward hospital had certainly not been a good period of time for him. At all.

He can remember seeing the US Army stamp on the front of the letter and immediately feeling his knees just loose all strength. He’d thought the worst, instantly, because God only knew it kept him awake most nights anyway, and then there it was, right in front of his eyes-

The panic was still there, even now that he’d read it and knew what it was really telling him- that they were sending Steve home. He still felt that initial feeling; right in his gut like a twisted up knife, all jagged and rough. Jesus- he hadn’t seen Steve’s face in nearly six months, not even after the accident. Hadn’t had access to a phone, could you goddamn believe that? Steve had been getting treated in a place where there weren’t even fucking phones-

God, nope, there went his breathing again. He needed to focus on the positives. Steve was coming back! Steve had done his tour at the ripe old fucking age of twenty years old, and now he was coming back. Back home to Tony and their shitty flat on the shit end of Brooklyn. It was all going to be fine.

Except Steve was 18 minutes and thirty four seconds, late, and it was making Tony antsy.

(Read more, mobile users!)

He checked his watch, just to make sure the airport clock wasn’t lying to him. But yep- there were the same numbers. Even his phone read the same. Steve was definitely, unequivocally late.

He knew it was stupid, but his mind had begun working itself into a panic during the first minute Steve had failed to show. Plane crash, another bombing, taken captive, killed on the way and Tony was just waiting for the news-

Fuck. Fuck, it was stupid. Stop shaking. Stupid stupid stupid stupid.

Steve wasn’t dead. They had plans, him and Tony. They were gonna get married, definitely- whether it be in five years or twenty. Tony was putting a ring on that finger if if took him the rest of his life. He was only nineteen, currently- he had bags of time. Bags and bags.

Steve just needed to show up.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. The past month had been...well, hell, basically. He’d barely slept more than four hours a night. He’d been on edge the entire time; terrified that he’d hear a knock on his door and that would be it, Steve would be dead from whatever injuries he’d received and Tony would be alone. Rhodey had come over during a particularly anxiety-ridden period and when Tony answered the door he’d already started fucking crying, so convinced that he was going to get the KIA notice.

Yeah, it was a mess.

Looking back up, he once more checked the entrance. Nothing. 19 minutes, 43 seconds and Steve still hadn’t fucking-

Wait.

He felt the familiar lack of strength in his knees overcome him once again, though this time for entirely different reasons. The image hit him like a physical blow- Steve, pretty much running through the gates with his kitbag strung over his shoulder and his eyes wide, searching through the crowds.

Steve.

Steve, looking relatively unscathed. Not dead. Alive.

Tony was sprinting before he’d even fully processed it.

His feet squeaked on the floor and his shoulder bumped roughly up against the milling crowds but he didn’t care, he didn’t fucking care- Steve was there, it had been nine whole months and Steve was there, alive, alive alive alive-

Steve noticed him as he was halfway to his destination, and the way his face changed from slightly concerned to stupidly, joyously happy was almost comical. He made a choked-off sound in the back of his throat, dumping the bag unceremoniously on the floor as he stumbled forward, arms opening. “Tony-”

Tony didn’t let him finish, slamming into him as fast as he could before the rest of the sentence could ever leave his mouth. His heart was going crazy in his chest, and he was making some quite frankly embarrassing sounds against Steve’s neck, but again, he couldn’t really find it in himself to care. Just clutched desperately to the back of Steve’s uniform and wrapped both legs around his waist, effectively clinging to him like a deranged koala. “Steve, Steve, Steve, ohmygod, Steve,” he whispered over and over like a mantra, voice broken and full of more joy than he’d even known he had in him.

Steve’s arms wrapped so tightly around his lower back he found it a little difficult to breathe. Tony could feel Steve’s mouth pressing into his neck, could feel the little shakes of relief radiating off him as he held Tony aloft in the middle of the airport. “Tony, sweetheart, I missed you so so much, I love you, oh God-” his words couldn’t continue, mouth too busy pressing manic little kisses into the side of Tony’s face.

Steve had come home.

Tony’s face was wet and as he pressed it into Steve’s, he realised his was too. “I got the letter and I thought my heart was gonna drop out of my chest and then I couldn’t even see you and I kept thinking this is it, I’m gonna find out you’d died today and I was so worried, Steve, I love you so much-”

“I know,” Steve whispered, and Tony only realised they were dropping when he felt the jolt of Steve’s knees hitting the floor, “I’m so sorry, I’m fine, I swear, just a few sore ribs-”

“What? Oh God, fuck,” Tony stopped pressing in, horrified, but Steve made a keening noise and shook his head wildly, pulling Tony right back.

“I’m not letting you go ever again,” Steve mumbled into Tony’s temple, one hand curling around Tony’s waist and the other pulling over his shoulders, tugging him in close. “I hope you know that.”

“Please don’t,” Tony agreed, so unimaginably happy that he was wrapped up in Steve’s arms once more, protected from the entirety of the world by the embrace. He hadn’t felt Steve in nine months. He was so stupidly desperate for contact- he’d fight the rest of the military to be able to keep Steve within touching distance. And win.

“I’m okay,” Steve whispered, eyes clenched shut as he buried his face in Tony’s neck, “I am, I promise. And I’m home for good, this time. I want- I want to be with you. Properly. No more army, no more nothing- just me and you and our shitty Brooklyn apartment, right?”

Tony laughed a little hysterically. “Let’s get married,” he blurted, and maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe he’d just got the kick up the ass he needed to see that life was too short to waste on planning things, but either way, the words just slipped out of his mouth so easily and now they were out there, there wasn’t a hope in hell he was backing down on it.

He could feel Steve’s smile against his face. “You’re nineteen and the heir to one of the biggest companies in the world,” he laughed wetly, stroking the hair out of Tony’s eyes with a ridiculously reverent hand, “your dad would literally string me up by the balls and leave me for the crows. He hates me enough already.”

“Fuck my fucking dad, he doesn’t have to know,” Tony said fiercely, kissing Steve again and again and again, “we’ll elope- San Fran or Cali or wherever the fuck you wanna go, Steve, we can stay in a motel for the next two years if we have to. I’d do it. I don’t care.”

Steve rocked them both back and forth on the floor, and he was laughing, oh, God, Tony had forgotten quite how amazing that laugh was- “I know you don’t, darling. You’ve been living in a trash-pit for over a year after Howard cut you off just so that you could stay with me. I think you could handle a motel, right?”

Steve was raising his eyebrows, nose to nose with Tony and smiling from one ear to the other. Tony felt his own breath catch in his throat. Was that... was Steve agreeing?

“Tony Stark, I must have survived that explosion for a Goddamn reason. And I don’t know what I could possibly have done to deserve you, but Goddamn it, I want to fucking marry you.”

Tony thought he might black out- the crazy rollercoaster of emotion over the past two minutes sending his head spinning wildly, but he managed to hold on just so that he could kiss Steve again. He loved kissing Steve. He’s missed Steve like a lost limb.

“We’ll send a picture of us sticking up our ring fingers to the StarkInudstires Server,” Tony said through a laugh, and he was still crying- God only knew the day had been eventful enough- but it didn’t matter, because Steve was crying too and they were seriously going to get married and Steve was back he was back he was back-

“I love you,” Tony sighed elatedly, dropping his head into Steve’s sternum and shutting his eyes again, “I love you so much. I want to marry you more than anything else in the world.”

“Well, it is my job to make you happy,” Steve whispered, linking their fingers together, “we’re young and stupid and broke and this seems like a flawless plan. Why not? Let’s elope.”

Steve was back. Tony couldn’t get his head around it.

He felt a hand cup against his side, pulling him up gently. “I’m not going anywhere any time soon,” Steve murmured, foreheads pressing together, “I promise, Tony. I’m okay. And I’m here for as long as you want me.”

“Forever,” Tony replied, shutting his eyes.

Steve leaned up, pressing soft kisses to each eyelid. “Forever, I can do,” he agreed.

Ao3 / Ko-fi

#stevetony #tony stark #steve rogers #itsallavengers writes #d'awwwwwwwwwwwwww #fluff #listen we were talking about soldiers in English poetry today and they were all grim as fuck and I was TEMPTED to write a much much sadder #ending #but then I was like. nAHHHHH #let them be happy for once #I can chill with the angst. For once #Plus I had like an hour to write this and it would have been too long anyways LOL #but whatever! enjoy

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saranel · 7 years

Photo

Tagging @mags-duranb, who asked (thank you for the interest btw, it was super sweet. Also, I love your art <3333) :) I was gonna make a post anyway, but I wanted it to be a timeline photoset hence why I’m not replying directly.

I thought it was about time I gave you guys a nice long update on the purrito, since we have now officially reached 2 months of age as of yesterday!

To answer the requester’s question, SHE is doing just fine xD That’s right, when we visited the vet about a week ago for the second round of shots, we got visible proof (or rather lack thereof) that we have a little girl in our hands. This was only a couple of days before I made an insta post announcing the official name, because of course it was. Way to embarass me, kiddo.

So I’d like to introduce you all to Buffy, because hello, so dang pretty, look at that last pic that was taken only yesterday, and she’s also pretty fearless and resourceful, though not necessarily highly intelligent xD Not a vampire slayer, but an ankle slayer for sure. I generally post updates on her every couple of days on instagram.

Oh, and, just as a final note on the whole name thing, yes, we still call her purrito from time to time, as well as a thousand other nicknames ;)

So! On to the update (and an extra... suprise?¿¿??) below the cut:

Buffy’s issues with food have gotten a lot better. She used to be vicious about meals, meowing and pleading hours before her feeding time. At first we thought we were perhaps feeding her too little, so we followed the general advice everyone gives re: how much to feed kittens, which is to say we just let her eat her fill. She did not stop until her belly was so distended I had to physically drag her bowl away. So we decided to slowly increase her intake whenever we saw she started to get skinny. Which, given her Longcat status, was so. damn. OFTEN. Seriously, if she looks malnourished in some pics, I assure you she’s not. She just grows and grows like a damn weed.

Lately, however, since her weight has reached a healthy plateau, she’s gotten much better about food. No screaming, no scratching, and she doesn’t really complain before feeding time anymore. She still follows us whenever we dare visit the kitchen, but hey, it could be worse xD

Something I’ve never mentioned here is that when we first found her, her whiskers were very short and stubby, which we originally attributed to her being very young. But eventually, we noticed that not only were her brow whiskers much longer, there was a lone whisker next to the stubby ones that was regular-sized, and the shorter ones looked almost... manually cut, if that wakes sense. A bit of research led us to find out that sometimes, littermates may do this to a runt (bite them off) when they’re competing for mom’s milk, which... not only makes my heart ache for our little buddy, it starts to put her whole attitude toward food into perspective.

Long story short, we were prepared for the possibility that she may forever have issues with food, but she’s been improving constantly.

Other than the food issue, Buffy has grown into a happy, healthy kitty :) She’s up to date on her shots, and we took her to the vet only last week where we got nothing but good news.

She’s very attached to us, especially me since I work from home and basically see her all day, and though she doesn’t complain and yowl when she’s left alone, she is super cuddly when we return home.

Given her age, she’s incredibly playful to the point that we get more exhausted playing with her than she does xD She likes climbing all over the place and exploring everything within reach, always looking for new ‘lairs’ and stuffing her butt into every nook and cranny, she loves to chew on cables (which has led us to do some highly creative concealing) and often engages in what we call ‘Crab Dancing’ when she gets excited/territorial during playtime:

( I *****MAY***** have edited this. Slightly. For my own amusement. It’s kinda soporific if you stare at it for too long)

We were glad to see she takes to new (human) acquaintances very well, and she hasn’t (yet) started wreaking havoc in our apartment. She, has, however, gotten very bitey during playtime, and it’s ALWAYS playtime, so we’re trying to encourage her to bite on toys instead of our fingers: it’s a sloooooooooow process. There’s also the possibility that she’s teething a bit early so she’s just constantly looking for relief. We’ve bought her a few special chew toys that should arrive shortly, and hopefully they’ll help. Even if it’s still early for her, hey, new toys, amirite? xD

Still, she never lashes out to us in anger/anxiety, not even when we gave her a bath where she was visibly distressed (yes, I know it’s not necessary for cats, but we’d never cleaned her with anything but pet wipes since we rescued her; she needed at least one) and yet she never tried to scratch or bite us. TL;DR she’s mischievous, but not aggressive outside of playtime.

She’s super long for her age and will most likely be a pretty long kitty when she reaches maturity. Seriously, y’all, Longcat 2.0:

( USB stick for size comparison, lol )

I’m still bummed my theory that she was part Van doesn’t seem to be true (in my defense, she has something very similar to the characteristic Van spot on her nape!), but hey, less shedding xD She also has a permanent bald spot on her spine now (as we knew she would), where the vet had given her that shot that saved her life back when she got sick.

She’s a sweet little doofus, who thinks she’s really a parrot and likes to perch on our shoulder, and meows the whole time I’m in the kitchen because how dare someone in this household eat when she’s not eating too, and when I ignore her grey-green supplicating eyes she just curls up over my foot while I wash the dishes, and she constantly gets tangled up in our legs and waits for us behind closed doors, and she’s a friggin’ Duracell battery who does.not.tire, and she tosses half the litter out when she digs, and she loves to take naps with us cuddled right over our chests so our heartbeat can lull her to sleep, and we love her.

Here’s to the next two months :)

Size comparison below, using my hand in both pics. Then and now :)

Addendum:

Edit: You can keep on reading, but the story has a sad ending, unfortunately :(

The above was the post I had prepared and was going to post yesterday on Buffy’s 2 month ‘birthday,’ so I’ve left it intact. However, I would be remiss if I didn’t add this latest development:

For a while now, we’ve been discussing how to deal with Buffy’s inexhaustible energy levels, because we do have other responsibilities, all of whom also require a good night’s sleep, which as you may imagine, has been a bit rare lately. There’s this saying that the only one who can keep up with a kitten is another kitten, but we were very reluctant to adopt another one, since we’re currently dealing with an imminent move and we weren’t sure if we could even afford it.

Well...................

I found and rescued Buffy. My partner found and rescued this little guy yesterday:

Five things here:

1) NO THIS WAS NOT PLANNED THIS IS SO BEYOND UNPLANNED I’M WFSJKLSDFJSKDHFSDKJ

2) MY PARTNER DIDN’T EVEN FIND HIM IN OUR NEIGHBORHOOD HE WAS VISITING HIS MOM ASJKFDHLSADGHFDDFAS

3) WE SERIOUSLY DON’T KNOW IF WE’RE KEEPING HIM. SERIOUSLY.L

4) YEAH I KNOW YOU CAN’T REALLY SEE MUCH LMAO EVEN HIS WHISKERS ARE BLACK JFC BUT I DIDN’T WANNA SCARE HIM SO I DIDN’T USE FLASH

5) 31 FUCKIN YEARS WITH NO KITTENS AND NOW TWQO, TWO KITTENS WTFFFFFFFF ITS RAINING KITTENS PRAISE BE TO BASTET i guess?? wtffffffffff

*breathes into a paper bag*

I’m going to be even more reluctant to make any grand claims than I was when we found Buffy, because this little dude (this one is a dude, indeed) is in pretty bad shape. Though she’d been abandoned, Buffy was very clean and hale when we found her, even if she was a bit small and underfed.

This one though... poor little soot sprite is all skin and bones, he was flea-ridden until we took him to the vet, he’s filthy, he’s terrified and has a bum leg from some sort of accident. We didn’t even have a plan yesterday when my partner found him, but we figured since we had a lot of leftover milk powder and kitten pate from Buffy, we might as well feed up this little orphan.

It took some coaxing with a syringe, but he got a bit of milk down which got his appetite going and we were able to feed him some pate. He actually ate a fair bit, which is encouraging. We know for a fact he was abandoned by his mom, btw, she’s still roaming around the neighborhood but refusing to tend to him since he’s already older than 4 weeks (maybe 1,5 month old max). Just two weeks younger than Buffy. After he got some food down, we took him to our vet, who was reserved but cautiously optimistic even for the leg. He made us no promises, of course, and he advised we prepare ourselves for the possibility that he might not make it.

We’ve now had him for just under a day and he’s been improving. He was very scared at first, hissy when I went near him, and the first time I fed him at home, the new environment had stressed him out to the point that I had to use a syringe again to get him to eat. And yeah, we’ve had to keep him isolated ofc to protect Buffy (and him, omg, she’s literally twice his size in weight, no exaggeration, and most likely a social dunce with other kittes, she would destroy him). I’ll be able to give him a bath tomorrow afternoon after the 48hr clock on the flea medicine runs out, which is yet another reason we had to isolate him. Today, he’s been getting less and less reserved around me and he hasn’t needed to be force fed once, he’s been downing pate like no-one’s business. I weighed him earlier and found he’d gained about 40-50 grams, a number I offer cautiously as both weighings at the vet and today aren’t entirely accurate, because squirmy kitty. Still, he’s gained weight, even if only a little.

Buffy can tell something’s up, since we basically had to move her litterbox and feeding area and haven’t let her in that room since. It’s been... an adjustment xD But she bounces back admirably fast, she didn’t even bat an eyelash at the change; she’s just curious to discover what we’re hiding from her, obviously. She’s probably heard him meowing, too.

We honestly have no clue what we’ll do with him. Taking it one day at a time. He might not make it at all, and even if he does, he may never get along with Buffy, in which case we’ll have to give him away for both their sakes. I’m not gonna lie, money is a concern. Research tells me at their age and beyond the cost isn’t prohibiting, not even double that of a single cat. So if he doesn’t require any costly meds, we can afford him, especially since Buffy can now eat dry food (and so will he in a couple of weeks). This, again, is all hinging on a) him not having any serious, contagious illnesses, and b) him and Buffy getting along. In the long run, we know it would be way better for Buffy to have a companion to play and cuddle with, but we have to be realistic and prepare for the worst for now.

Soot sprite is a little cutie, he has the softest, most plaintive meow and there’s even hope for his little leg down the road (though honestly, that’s the last thing that concerns us; even in his current state, he’s perfectly mobile). His eyes, too, should get better with time if he grows healthier.

SO WE’LL SEE. RN I am beyond stressed and reserved, but also kinda hopeful. *sigh*

#cats #purrito #Buffy #<<<new tag lol #my actual show buffy tag is btvs #also #soot sprite #asks

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seiriina · 6 years

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so. next week + the week after i work a total... of five ( 5 ) days. now next week is a short week bc of the holiday so i expected that. but.... five days between two weeks ? that’s... seriously gonna kill my paycheck and not to mention stress me out bc i’m gonna have to listen to my parents talk yet again about how i need to be looking for another job ( i am ) and either have two jobs ( which stresses me the fuck out and makes me more of an anxiety ridden depressed mess than i already am ) or find a full time job ( literally impossible in this area, i kid you not. ) that along with just not being thrilled in the slightest about my birthday because i know i’ll most likely spend it alone in my room is just.... i’m not looking forward to these next few weeks.

#; out of the spotlight ( ooc )#negative tw #vent #pensive sigh #i know i should be excited about my birthday #but like #i'm just #not #because it's not like i ever DO anything #can't even go out to dinner or anything #like on my actual birthday bc basically everywhere is closed

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lewiselder · 6 years

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lewis vs kids

like the world’s foremost degenerative gambler once said, “i’m back.” but enough about michael jordan. holy shit. it’s been almost a year since my last post. the thing is, nothing arm-related has happened to me in that time.

HAHAHAHA *laughing trails off*

i’m playing. i’ve just been slacking. how have you guys been? i hope you’ve been good! or, well, i hope at least medium.

man, a lot has happened in the in-between. i have a different job. i’m still in austin but moving in a couple weeks. i’ve bought shoes. i’ve sold shoes. i’ve started eating oranges. a lot has also stayed the same. i still don’t own a pair of jeans. i’m still not wearing no fucking button up shirts. still doing anxiety ridden push ups at 3am. still laying in bed every night googling pictures of doughnuts. such is life.

there are a bunch of stories i still need/want to tell you. i keep a rolling tab in my phone and we’ve knocked out 4 of 19. today we’re going to ease back into things with 2 short stories with one overlapping theme: kids. did my title give it away?

kids! everybody fuckin loves kids. kids kids kids. so nice! so sweet! so pure! may god in his all knowing, arm designing wisdom bless the youths.

i like kids.

however.

kids don’t have filters. this is one of the reasons you cornballs love them. this is one of the reasons i’m still a little more on the fence. obvious physical disfigurements and young, full of wonder children are a volatile mix. we’re going to do 2 real quick stories, one from the past and one from the present, to demonstrate. let’s get weird.

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#1 - AHHHHHHH!

my junior year of college i pledged Phi Beta Sigma. part of the, uh, joining process (Phi Beta Sigma is a non-hazing organization) was volunteering at the local Boys and Girls club where an older Sigma brother worked as a director (shout out Josh!). face value, this is a pretty sweet deal. volunteering is good, kids are cool, and this was certainly a welcomed reprieve from the rest of the joining process.

however. (this the same however from before ^ good dude, but moves around a lot)

like i may have mentioned, i have a disfigured left arm. me and my disfigured left arm (and my 4 line brothers) took the bus out to the Boys and Girls club for our first session. mind you, this is wisconsin in like, february, so we’re all in multiple layers of coats and hoodies and all that shit.

so, we get there, meet up with Josh, get shown around, meet some kids, yadda yadda. now, at this point we’re starting to step into a very nuanced part of my life. one of the reasons i don’t like wearing layers of clothing, or jackets, or button ups, is because i’m not a goofy cornball, but also because long sleeves often mean my left arm is covered and more or less camouflaged. this means i enter some place and the other humans in that place see me and process my existence as one thing. then, i have to go through the fucking shit awful experience of removing the camouflage and re-presenting myself as far from that original thing. people’s responses vary from really shocked to really fucking shocked (they don’t vary). this sucks 1000% of the time. actually one of my biggest arm stories is about this exactly. we’ll get there another day.

ANYWAY, we start hanging out with some of the kids to get to know them. eventually i get hot (shout out all my fellow thicc n sweaty folx). i make the decision to remove my camouflage. i take my jacket off and almost immediately this young boy, probably around like idk 10?, we were playing ping pong with let’s out a shout.

AHHHHHHH!

him: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOUR ARM?

me: ahhhhh yeahhhhh it’s a birth defect man. i was born with it

him: (again) AHHHHHHH!

me: hmmmmm

him: AHHHHHHH! YO PUT IT AWAY

me: this is fun

him: OH MY GOD YO PUT IT AWAY PLEEEEEASE PUT IT AWAY PUTITAWAYPLEASEPUTITAWAY

me: well shit

i tried to talk with dude but he was pretty out of pocket and was not listening. i eventually just put my jacket back on. i did not go back for the next volunteering session lol.

#2 - Shhhh, Katy STOP

this one’s from a few weeks ago. it’s a lot less outrageous than the previous story, but it will bring up an interesting point.

i was at a coffee shop near my crib on a saturday afternoon. this is april in austin, tx (the kissing dogs in the mouth capital of america) so no jacket camouflage for lewis.

i’m sitting next to a mom and her daughter. the daughter quickly notices that i’m wearing very rare raging bull 5s. she asks me how much i got them for. i tell her $260 shipped in vnds condition! she says no fucking way dude great pick up. we do a mid-air high five while throw some d’s blasts in the background, shout out rich boy. always shout out rich boy.

the end!

ok. maybe that’s not exactly what happened.

maybe she noticed my arm and backed away. maybe she started whispering to her mom. maybe i heard her say,

“what’s wrong with his arm??? does it hurt??? do you think he’s mad???”

i remember the mad one made me lol. i’m more mad that every day people choose to wear birkenstocks but yeah, 6 of one, half dozen of the other.

her mom, more conscious of the fact they were 30 inches from the man they were talking about than the daughter was, was beginning to hit a state of suppressed panic. i couldn’t hear all of what they were saying, but the mom was desperately trying to get her to be quiet. eventually culminating with a louder than intended,

“Shhhh, Katy STOP.”

Katy did indeed stop. the mom took a big sigh of relief and a big gulp of coffee. I stared straight ahead thinking about how $260 shipped for raging bull 5s is a fucking lick. a. fucking. lick.

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And that’s it. Important to note that I wasn’t mad at the kids in either story. They’re kids. My arm looks a lot different than theirs do. I get that. I wasn’t thrilled with the first dude, but ah, what are you gonna do. I’ve spent most of my life coping (whether through jokes, fighting, writing, whatever) with the othering that comes with being disfigured/disabled.

I think what I want to end this post on is the question of how do you teach your kids to treat people with disfigurements or disabilities. Seriously, how the fuck. I’m actually asking because I’m really not sure. I’ve seen parents encourage their kids to come right up to me and ask. That’s like, ok, but also pretty presumptuous and kind of bogus. What if I don’t want to talk to you or your sticky handed kid. I (or anyone) should have the right to not be bothered just because you’re curious. I’ve seen parents tell their kids to shut all the way the fuck up. This is fine too. Tbh, I kind of appreciate those parents. Tho, is that just shutting down what could be a developmental moment? I don’t know.

I will tell you that I don’t miss being a kid. I’ll never connect with people who long for the days of their childhood. Being disfigured as a kid is fucking hard. Like, really fucking hard. I have the marks on my hands (and probably the deep-seeded emotional trauma) to prove it. Like an ex-gf’s mom once said to me when meeting her for the first time (she was a physical therapist and somehow noticed this upon shaking hands), “oh you’ve broken a few of your knuckles before, huh?” Life is much better as an adult.

I don’t plan on having kids, but if I did, how would I teach them to treat disabled people? And at what point would they realize their father is different? Will it be when some kids at school start giving them shit about their father with the little arm? Then my burden has become theirs through no fault of their own.

Idk. I don’t have the answers, Sway (2014 was fun, wasn’t it?). Just tell your kids, your little cousins, your friends and family, not to be dicks. I know that’s reductive, but yeah idk man just don’t fucking suck. And try your best to make others around you suck less, too.

Life is weird and stressful but it has doughnuts and cool grey 11s so i think it mostly evens out. Talk to ya’ll soon. Shout out Rich Boy.

*1 free donut if u read this far*

#lewis elder #lewiselder #disability #disabled #st. louis #lewie armstrong #kids #rich boy

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