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#This episode was hard to watch. I knew it would be dark
rottmntrulesall · 8 months
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You're a loser, baby.....
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lab-gr0wn-lambs · 4 months
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Tbh saying that people hate the 13th doctor 'just because she's a woman' is a really bad-faith stupid take. You can enjoy 13. But if you make a point like that it's actually you who's dismissive and making it about gender.
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Dull Blades
benjicot blackwood & targaryen oc
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UPDATED! First chunk of this just? Disappeared??? So, edited it to include the missing first part!
warnings: angst?? no warnings, really? fluff & drabble for now & soft ben ~
I got this idea for a drabble from S2 of GOT when Catelyn Stark finds her son in disarray after hearing of his father. After watching the last couple episodes of HOTD (and reading Fire and Blood recently), it’s hard not to think about all of the heartbreak between the two sides. This little drabble follows an OC I’m creating, Rhaenala, having a moment to really feel and let out her frustration and sadness. She wanders off to the woods on her own once settling into the Riverlands only to then be discovered by a certain Blackwood. Also, I know, I know, okay! I know our boy didn’t turn out to be our boy, BUT LET ME COPE, OKAY. : ‘ )
Also, part 1??? Thinking about making a second part to this…
Swing after swing the blade got duller and even more damaged. The log had had it. She couldn’t help it though. Everything was falling apart as she knew it. Her house, her family, everything. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.
Her breath heaved as she swung her sword. In the distance, she could hear footsteps brushing along the grass and leather moving against each other as a voice called out.
She wiped her eyes, removing all evidence of frustrated tears.
“Hey!” She heard the voice as it got closer. It was a husky voice, perhaps a young lad.
“Hey! Princess!” Lilac eyes snapped up to meet the unknown voice. Her chest rose up and down quickly as she leaned over to rest. Who was this? This lanky, dark-haired man? Rhaelana was stunned by his boldness yet captivated.
Piercing familiar eyes met hers. “We need that sword, Princess. We need every sword necessary to end every life that defends the usurper. And…” he trailed off, his eyes scanning the blade in her hands. “You’re letting that one go to waste,” he finished his sentence softly as he slowly approached closer.
Blackwood. Benjicot Blackwood.
She remembered now. Head of House Blackwood. How could she be so dense?
The princess was sent by her mother to aid their allies with the battle against the Lannister army. Benjicot had sent ravens to the queen not long before asking for aid, so Rhaelana was drafted with Valax, her grown dragon with black onyx scales. The two were a formidable pair and more than capable of assisting their Riverland allies.
Her mouth parted with a bewildered cackle, laughing uncontrollably out loud. She couldn’t help it. This truly was a sightly scene for the young lord to find his princess, wasn’t it?
She sheathed the sword as she stood upright. “My apologies, my lord. I shall be more mindful,” her voice quivered on the last word, almost making her lose her composure. He could see that, of course. It wasn’t difficult to see that she was hurting, being torn apart in every direction. Most of all, she was grieving. Grieving for those that were already lost. Grieving for those that would welcome death soon enough. And what better way to let go than by hitting something? Oh, Benjicot knew that feeling all too well.
“Princess?” He continued to walk towards her, stepping slowly only inches apart now as they stood in front of each other.
“I should be going now. There’s people expecting me and—“ But as she began to step past him, an arm reached out, hand wrapping itself around her wrist.
“I wept,” he began to speak, answering the puzzled look on the princess’s face. “The first time I lay eyes on all the bodies. It was my first time on a battlefield and afterward I felt nothing but sorrow.” His words hung heavy in the air. “War is war, princess. And with family? I dare not imagine. But you have us. You have me,” he spoke softly while searching her eyes.
The young lord realized he still held her wrist and released her, snapping the princess harshly back into reality as he let her go.
“Benjicot Blackwood,” she spoke his name sternly. The young man straightened up, gaze never faltering hers.
“Thank you. I hope to see you at the meeting,” a hopeful gleam shined in her eyes as she spoke. Her body then glided past him, her shoulder brushing his arm as she passed.
The current state of her family was doomed. But her mother’s rightful place on the throne didn’t have to be. No, she was going to fight. She was going to fight with any and every weapon possible, dull or not.
A smile danced at the corner of the young lord’s lips as she passed by. His head bowed for a moment as he responded, “Of course, princess.”
Her figure walked away from him, towards the direction of camp. If there was one thing for certain, Ben knew they’d succeed with the princess at their aid. He recognized the look in her eyes all too well. The princess was proving to be all the more captivating than he could have hoped.
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joelscruff · 1 year
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ummm hi this is so random i just needed to tell someone about this cause no one i know likes pedro
so i was watching s1 narcos and javi was wearing this fkn white half sleeved shirt and they knew what they were fucking doing and i’m dying he’s so fkn hot what do i do!!, if i was interning for him and he walked in the room wearing that oh my fkn god i would be dead sorry for this rant
soaked (javier peña x f!reader) 18+
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so as usual what was meant to be a little drabble became a full-fledged fic. what is wrong with me????? this outfit is truly insane though and i couldn't stop thinking about it getting wet 👀 i hope you enjoy xo (and thank you anon for the inspo and for telling me what episode this lovely shirt was in!) summary: it's hard being an intern for a man who won't even look at you, but maybe there's something else to it that you don't see. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: smut, blowjobs, deepthroating, protected p in v sex, praise kink, dirty talk, size kink (javi has a big dick), biting, probably bad spanish (blame google) word count: 6k (this was supposed to be a drabble!!!!!!! wtf!!!!!!!!) ao3
You're pretty sure you're going to quit your job.
You've been an intern at the DEA for about a month now, in charge of extremely mundane things like pouring coffee and organizing paperwork. No one really talks to you other than Steve Murphy, one of the agents you're assigned to, and even then he's too busy to really give you much attention. It's lonely and boring, and part of you thinks you might have quit already, if it wasn't for...
"Morning, asshole," Javier Peña enters the office with long strides, tossing a stack of papers toward your (very tiny) desk. You can't help but stare at him, swallowing nervously as you assess the plain white shirt he's wearing, loosely tucked into his tight jeans and accentuating his strong, tan arms. How does he always look so good? His hair is messy, brown curls tangled and sticking up in places like he's just rolled out of bed, and he probably has. The faint scent of whisky that follows him tells you all you need to know about how he spent his evening.
You're worried for only half a second that he's talking to you, but you realize his gaze is directed toward Steve, who simply shrugs.
"You didn't have to come," he replies with a laugh, "You coulda said no."
"To your fucking wife? Please." Javier sits down in his chair with force, leaning back to immediately put his long legs up on his desk and reach for a cigarette from his pocket, "She was excited about it, you dick."
Steve just laughs again, turning back to his work, "You did the right thing, man. I don't know what else to say."
You wish you understood the story, knew what they were playfully ribbing each other about, but for the past month you've been on the outside of their relationship. Steve gives you reassuring smiles and some small talk every now and then but it's not enough to feel like you actually belong there, not to mention that Javier has only spoken to you once. Even now, as you rise from your chair to pour some fresh coffee into his mug, he doesn't even look at you.
"You owe me," he says to Steve, lighting up his cig, "Pendejo."
As you pour his coffee you can't help but notice the way the collar of his shirt rides low enough for you to see his collarbones, see the light dusting of hair smattered across his dark skin. There's a few droplets of sweat here and there, and you resist the urge to lean forward and press your tongue to each one.
"I'll have some more too, sweetheart," Steve says behind you, and your thoughts scatter as you pull back from Javier's mug to go re-fill Steve's. You're aware of the way Steve's eyes trail to your breasts, hidden only by a thin layer of blue fabric; it makes you self conscious and also a bit confused. Steve has never looked at you that way before, "That's a nice blouse," he says to you with a smile, eyes going back up to your face, "My wife has one similar to that."
"Thank you," you say quietly, finishing filling up his mug and wanting to go back over to your desk as soon as possible; you don't like the idea of a married man ogling you.
"Isn't this a nice blouse, Javi?" Steve continues, and you freeze.
What is Steve doing? Is he trying to get you insulted? You turn slightly to look at Javier, coffee pot trembling slightly in your hand when you see that he's got an irritated expression painting his face, mouth downturned in a stern frown.
"Thin ice, Steve," Javier replies and takes another drag from his cigarette, his eyes set firmly on Steve's face, not even bothering to even look at the blouse in question.
"What? It's nice," Steve seems to be feigning innocence, yet again another inside joke you're not apart of. Except this time it's at your expense and you're not sure how that makes you feel. Suddenly Steve reaches up and takes a ruffle of your blouse near your arm between his fingers, "Really soft, too."
"Steve," Javier repeats, eyes dark, "Thin. Ice."
You look from Javier to Steve and back to Javier, absolutely bewildered. It's like things are being said but you can't hear them, have no idea what kind of secret language they're speaking. You pull away from Steve a bit, feeling uncomfortable.
"I'm gonna go put this back," you say quietly, referring to the coffee pot.
"Of course, sweetheart, I won't keep you," Steve gives you a wink and you know something is off. From what you've gathered so far from your time here, Steve loves his wife, has a picture of her on his desk right in front of him that you always catch him looking at. You've only been here a month but you swear he's mentioned her every single day, if not to you then to Javier, if not to Javier then to another intern or agent. So why is he suddenly being flirtatious with you?
You leave the room and return the coffee pot, staring at the aged tiles on the wall in front of you and feeling a lump form in your throat. You really do hate it here, you don't know why you've stayed as long as you have.
Yes you do, you idiot.
--
It's raining outside by the time your work day ends and you feel yourself deflate as you walk out the front doors of the DEA; you'd been hoping for the hot weather to continue so you could go for a run and distract yourself from this weird and uncomfortable day, decide whether or not you're going to just quit already. It's like the heavy rainfall is mocking you.
You feel much too depressed to walk home so you go back inside the building and make your way back to the office to call a taxi. Steve passes you in the hallway and slows down, puts his hand up to stop you.
"Hey, I'm sorry for this morning," he says, eyes kind and gentle, "That was inappropriate, I shouldn't have touched your blouse."
You're not sure what to say, giving him a small shrug, "It's, uh, okay. I was just..." you shake your head, "Yeah, never mind, it's okay."
"You're wondering why I did it." he states, frowning, and you almost laugh at his immediate assessment of the situation; deflecting a DEA agent? Not the smartest idea.
"Well, yeah," you shrug, "It was kinda weird. You're usually, um... very respectful so-"
He winces, "I know, I'm sorry. It was just me trying to get on Peña's nerves," he shuffles awkwardly in front of you, shifting the weight from his left leg to his right and back again, "He'd kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but I owe him."
You look at him in total confusion, shaking your head, "I don't understand."
He chuckles, shaking his head, "I know, I'm just trying to figure out how to word it," he bites his lip and then seems to resign himself to something, "Javier... he likes you."
You stare.
"My wife and I, we kind of wrangled him into having dinner with us last night. They were talking, she was askin' him about women, if he'd been on any dates, typical questions," he laughs at the memory, "He said no and she asked if he had his eye on anyone. He said no again, but I know this guy like the back of my hand, I can read him like a book. I knew that second no was a goddamn lie."
Your heart is pounding in your chest but your thoughts are muddled, unable to draw a clear conclusion from what Steve is telling you. You continue to just stand there wordlessly, listening.
"A few drinks later - well, more than a few - I asked him who he had his eye on. You wouldn't believe how easy it was to get it out of him, he just smiled, took a drag of his cig..." Steve acts this out, bringing his cigarette-less fingers to his lips and pretending to take a puff, eyes heavy-lidded and bleary, "And said your name."
You can't believe what you're hearing, there's no way it's true, no way he's telling you about something that actually happened. Your heart continues to pound relentlessly, staring at Steve like he's speaking another language, a million wordless questions flying back and forth in your mind at top speed.
"She's the most beautiful creature I ever saw," he quotes, voice slurred and gravelly, "She's sunshine incarnate."
"But he doesn't even look at me!" you blurt out, eyes wide.
Steve drops his hand and laughs again, shaking his head, "Sweetheart, he looks at you all the time. You're just looking away when he does it."
This revelation hits you hard, makes your breath catch in your throat. Is this actually true? Or is this some sick inside joke they're playing to get you to finally put in your notice, one of their private little games that you're not a part of. On principle it's the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard; the man has spoken to you once, only once, and it was on your first day. He'd introduced himself, shook your hand, and that was that.
"What do you mean you're doing this because you owe him?" you ask, shaking the thoughts away, "Isn't this just humiliating him?"
Steve smiles again, slightly smug, "I see the way you look at him too, you know. I'm not blind," he looks at his watch then and makes a face, "Listen, I gotta go, but if you're heading back to the office, he's still there."
"But, Steve, I-"
"Trust me," he gives you one of his reassuring smiles, "He needs - scratch that - wants someone like you, someone... stable."
You don't think being on the verge of quitting a paid internship would be considered stable, but you understand what he means. You may have only been here a short time but Javier's reputation is widely known around the office, something you've found yourself sympathizing with instead of villainizing him like others do. You know his history with women is pretty bleak relationship wise.
Steve begins to walk away from you, leaving you standing there speechless, "You better hurry before he leaves," he calls. He picks up his pace but you're still able to hear him as he mutters, "and that's my good deed done," then saunters down the hall and disappears around the corner.
--
The office you share with Javier and Steve is the only one still lit on your floor, meaning everyone else has already gone home. You know that Javier likes to stay late sometimes, work on the case alone and look at things from different angles in solitude. You feel nervous as you approach the door, not wanting to bother him. But regardless of whether what Steve said is true, you still need to call a taxi.
You turn the knob and walk inside, trying to be as quiet and slow as possible. Your efforts are pointless though, as Javier looks up from his work and sees you immediately, his eyebrows going up in surprise.
"It's raining," you say softly, awkwardly, "I need to call a cab."
"Right," he nods to you and then returns to his work without an afterthought, writing something down on a piece of paper.
You stand there for a few moments just looking at him, watching his face, trying to find any indication of affection behind those focused eyes, his serious brow. He looks the same as always, lost in thought, scribbling away, handsome as he does it. The white shirt certainly isn't helping; he's unbuttoned it more now, his chest exposed and sunglasses hanging from a button near his pocket. He's so effortlessly gorgeous, it makes you ache.
He must sense you still standing there, not making any move to walk to your desk and pick up the phone. He looks up at you again, brow furrowed, "Do you need something?"
You shake your head quickly, cheeks burning, "N-no, sorry," you shuffle over to your desk and sit down in your chair, doing everything you can to avoid looking over at him again. You think about what Steve said, how Javier is always looking at you but only when you're not aware. You wonder if he's doing it right now.
You reach for the phone, unable to stop your hands from shaking slightly. You're almost sure you feel his gaze on you now, boring into you and watching every move you make, eyes deep and brown and calculating, always calculating. Assessing. What does he make of you? If what Steve said is true, what does he see when he looks at you?
Sunshine incarnate.
You can't help but smile at the words, dialing the number for the taxi slowly as your brain repeats them over and over. Had he really said that about you? And meant it? Your thoughts are so jumbled that you accidentally press the wrong button and have to start over, hanging up the phone quickly before picking it up again.
Just as you go to press the first number, a hand comes down and stops you, brushing against your fingers in a tender and gentle way. You freeze, staring at the hand, knowing it's his, knowing that if he wasn't looking at you before, he certainly is now.
"Why don't I just give you a ride, cariño?" he asks quietly, voice slightly rough around the edges, "I'm heading home now anyway."
You will yourself to look up, eyes capturing his immediately and getting lost in their depths, big and brown and soft and searching. Your lips part but no words come out. You force yourself to give him a nod, repressing the urge to jump up and kiss his mouth, envelop him, hold him close and look even deeper into those soulful eyes.
You stand shakily and walk to the door, feeling his eyes on your back as he follows behind you. The walk down to the main doors of the building is completely silent, save for the clicking of your heels against the linoleum and his heavy masculine breaths at your side. It's still raining once you get outside, and you can't help but make a face.
"Not a fan of the rain?" he asks you a bit loudly over the pelting of water against the concrete, a smile tugging at his lips.
"It's not my favorite," you admit, wincing, "Where are you parked?"
"You stay here where it's dry, I'll pull it up front."
You watch him dart out from under the eaves of the building, rain immediately soaking his white shirt without apology. You watch with wide eyes as his back becomes visible from the downpour, skin a pinkish brown beneath the suddenly translucent material. You catch sight of two dimples near his lower back before he disappears from eyesight.
You swallow, trying to pretend you don't feel yourself begin to throb within the confines of your underwear, a wetness pooling between your legs that has nothing to do with the rain.
Only a few moments later he's pulling up front, waving at you from behind the car window. You dash forward and feel the rain soak your hair, your skin, your blouse. There was nothing about rain in the forecast this morning so you hadn't thought to bring a jacket with you; you're now regretting that decision greatly.
The passenger side door is already unlocked and you slip inside gratefully, slamming it behind you and exhaling loudly. The rain continues to pelt the windows, the roof, a steady and repetitive sound as you look down at yourself to assess the damage. At least you chose a blue blouse and not a white one, although you can faintly see the shape of your nipples poking through the fabric. A bit self conscious, you cross your arms and huddle forward in the seat.
"Should heat up soon," Javier says beside you, quiet like he'd been in the office, "Seatbelt."
You glance over at him for only a second but regret it instantly, immediately noticing the way the rain has completely soaked his white shirt, exposing the taut and firm muscle beneath, his wide pecs, dark nipples, his flat stomach and belly button, the trail of hair that leads down to...
You grip the seatbelt in your hands and turn your attention to clicking it into place, feeling yourself throb even more. God, he's so fucking hot. You can't blame all the women he's slept with for wanting to get in his pants, he's a fucking Adonis. You take a few deep breaths as he pulls away from the building, focusing on the small bursts of heat that are beginning to radiate from the vents in front of you. You rub your hands together, momentarily forgetting that he could probably see your breasts through your blouse if he looked over.
But that's just it...you never know when he's looking at you. And part of you wonders what would be so bad about him seeing you like this.
You drive together in silence for a few moments, an undeniable tension building and building the longer you both sit there without speaking. Every so often you can't help but let your eyes trail back over to his body, eyeing the way his wet shirt clings to his skin, beginning to slowly dry in small patches from the car heater. You can vaguely make out the shape of a scar on his abdomen and you find yourself wanting to reach out and trace your finger along the length of it, ask him how he got it, kiss it better.
"I feel you watching me, querida," he murmurs, eyes on the road.
Your eyes widen and you sit back in your seat stiffly, "S-sorry."
In your peripheral vision you see him smile, thumbing the steering wheel, "You're always watching me, aren't you?"
You don't know what to say, swallowing tightly around the lump you feel building in your throat. Is he about to call you out? Tell you to stop?
"That's okay, I'm always watching you too," he says it quietly like it's a secret, taking a heavy breath as he continues, "But you know that now, don't you? Steve's a little shit."
You can't help but laugh, which makes him grin wider. He looks over at you and you meet his gaze, feeling shy when his eyes drop to your chest and back up again.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he murmurs, eyes back on the road, "I'll be real gentle, I promise."
You stare at him, slightly confused. It's only a moment later that it dawns on you: you never told him your address.
"Where are we going?" you ask quietly, voice shaking slightly in anticipation.
He gives you another side glance, smiling kindly at you, "I think you already know, cariño."
--
No more than twenty minutes later he has you laid out on his bed completely bare, his mouth pressed firmly against your wet core as you writhe and moan under his touch. His palms are pressed flush against your stomach, holding you to the mattress, never releasing you even when you start shaking uncontrollably from your orgasm. He just keeps going, sucking on your clit and fingering your throbbing hole, nose buried in the patch of hair on your mound.
"Javi, Javi, Javi," you repeat over and over again, thrashing in his sheets, fisting the duvet. He'd told you as soon as he had you in his bed that he didn't want you calling him Javier anymore, and you'd had absolutely no problem with amending your vocabulary.
He hums, giving your clit one last hard suck and making you almost scream with overstimulation, body heaving up off the mattress as he finally pulls away from your core and looks up at you with those big brown eyes.
"That's it, querida, feels so good, doesn't it?" he breathes, crawling back up and pressing kisses against your skin as you come down from the pleasure, heart pounding in your chest, "Your little pussy needed me so bad, didn't she?"
"Yes," you whimper, voice weak, unable to say anything else as he continues to kiss along your breasts, your neck, your cheeks. His mustache is soft and welcoming against your skin, tickling every inch of it in the best way possible as he worships you.
You can't believe you're even here, lying in his bed, lights dim as the rain continues to pelt the windows and drench the city while Javier drenches you. He's still wearing the white shirt, still damp and tucked into his jeans. You reach forward and pull at his belt, fingers trembling.
"Oh, cariño," he coos, kissing the corner of your mouth hungrily, "Want my cock now, do you? Thought that might have been too much for you."
You shake your head quickly, feeling tears sting in your eyes at the thought of him not giving you what you want, "Please," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please, Javi. I need it so bad."
"You do," he agrees, hands trailing upward to squeeze your breasts, thumbing your hard nipples, "You need to get fucked, knew it from the moment I met you. Knew it had to be me to do it."
"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask, voice breathless as he begins to undo his belt, "Why didn't you talk to me?"
"Because you're so pretty, hermosa, so pure," he tosses his belt to the ground and reaches for the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head. Your eyes fall to his bare chest, his stomach, so much clearer now than they'd been through the wet fabric. He's absolutely perfect, and you feel yourself salivate as you reach up to palm the soft skin of his belly, feeling the hair under your fingertips, tracing the scar you'd seen earlier. He grabs your hand gently, squeezes it, "I knew if I talked to you, you'd end up right here. In my bed."
"And that would be a bad thing?" you whisper, eyes searching his, "This is bad?"
He shakes his head quickly, unbuttoning his jeans, "No, querida, this isn't bad. This is what you need, I know that now," he unzips himself and your jaw goes slack when you see that he isn't wearing any underwear, his cock completely bare and on display beneath the denim. He pulls himself out, showing you how long and thick he is, cut and curved, leaking from the tip. Some of it drips onto your tummy and you both watch it dribble down your skin, dipping into your belly button, "You need it," he whispers, "Knew it when you started looking at me like that."
"Like what?" you breathe, still staring at his large cock, wondering how it'll possibly fit inside you without splitting you in half.
"Like the way you're looking at my cock right now," he says softly, shuffling forward a bit on the bed, "Now, sit up, okay? Give it a kiss."
You don't need telling twice, scrambling amongst the sheets and crouching forward to envelop the head of his cock inside your mouth, warm and sticky on your tongue. You close your eyes, feeling them almost roll back in your head as you suck gently and swallow down his precome, tickling the back of your throat.
"Gonna see how much you can take, okay?" he says quietly above you, and you feel his hands in your hair, stroking your scalp reassuringly, "You can stop if it's too much."
You slowly move forward to take a few more inches, eyes still closed, only opening again when you feel his hands grip your hair tighter. You look up then, eyes lidded and heavy, and he's looking down at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
"Such a pretty mouth," he murmurs, thumbing the base of your neck, "Just made to have my cock in there, huh?"
You nod slowly, breathing through your nose and pushing yourself further, wanting to take as much of him as you possibly can. You get about three quarters down and feel the tip prod the back of your throat. You still, inhaling deeply and feeling tears well in your eyes, silently begging yourself not to gag.
"Just a little more, querida," he whispers, stroking your hair, "You can do it, I know you can."
With his soothing encouragement you slowly take the rest of him, not stopping until your nose is buried in his pubic hair. You inhale again and your senses are overwhelmed by his masculine, sweaty, musky scent. It's heaven. You open your eyes and look up at him, tears welling over and spilling down your cheeks.
"Oh, baby," he says, biting back a moan, "That's so good, knew you could do it," he feels you trembling on his cock, throat closing around the head, and he carefully slides you off.
You start coughing immediately, drool running down your chin in long ropes. You'd feel embarrassed but he's smiling at you, leaning down to press kisses to your forehead.
"You did so good," he praises, wiping your chin with his thumb and kissing your lips tenderly, tasting himself on your tongue, "Took all of it so well, querida."
"I can do it again," you say quickly through another cough, voice rough, "Just gimme a second."
He smiles wider and shakes his head, "I know you can, but you don't need to, not tonight. Just wanted to see if you could take the whole thing in that pretty mouth," he thumbs your lips and you immediately capture it between them, sucking his thumb feverishly. He groans slightly, watching it disappear, "and now that I know you can... we need to see how well it fits inside that perfect little pussy, hm? Think it'll fit?"
You nod immediately, releasing his thumb with a pop, "I'll make it fit."
He groans again, getting off the bed and pulling his jeans down his legs, "That's what I like to hear, baby." He pulls open his bedside table and grabs a condom, tossing it over to you, "Now put that on my dick, cariño, gotta be safe."
You shuffle to the edge of the bed, ripping the condom open with your teeth and sliding it down his length. You feel his eyes on you now; you'd never been able to feel it before, had no idea he'd even been looking at you, and now it's like his gaze is burning your skin. You lean forward and press one more kiss to the head of his cock, smirking when it twitches.
"Come here, hermosa," he mutters, taking your hand and carefully pulling you off the bed. You both stand there naked in front of each other as he leans down to kiss you tenderly, hand trailing up to press flush against your back. He's so beyond everything you could have ever hoped for; you still can't believe this is actually happening, "Stay there for a second," he whispers.
You watch as he gets on the bed and sits at the top, back leaning against the headboard. His cock stands stiff and inviting beneath him as he splays his legs out and opens his arms.
"Sit on my cock, querida," he breathes, and without any hesitation you climb into his lap, legs shaking as you grip his shoulders and hover above him, "Nice and slow," he whispers, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, "That's it."
The tip of his cock breaches your entrance and you keen at the sensation, still shaking slightly as you slowly ease yourself down on him. You're so wet, his length slipping inside easily at first, but once you get about halfway down your hips stutter and you whimper.
"You got it, baby," he breathes, thumbs splayed across your belly, "Not much more," he pushes inside a bit further and you cry out in ecstasy, burying your face in his shoulder. His hands move to your back, holding you tightly against him as he continues to fill you, not stopping until he bottoms out, "There," he murmurs, rubbing circles into the skin of your back, "That's all of it, cariño. Did so good, taking it so well for me."
You sit like that for a few moments, him whispering praises in your ear and rubbing your skin soothingly. He's so thick inside you, you've never felt so full. After a few more moments he carefully grips your hips and slowly begins to move you on his cock, up and down, watching your expression and reveling in the whines emitting from your throat.
"That's it," he says, brow furrowed as he keeps his eyes on your face, "That's what a real cock feels like, querida, and it's the only one you're gonna get from now on." Your face scrunches up in pleasure and you find yourself hiding in his shoulder again, wrapping your arms around him and starting to move your hips to match his pace.
"Javi," you whimper, feeling the head of his cock pushing against the deepest part of you every time you brace down, "So big inside me, Javi."
"I know, cariño," he murmurs, soothing you again with a gentle rub to your back, "Filling you up so good, huh?"
You hum and let yourself go, nose pressed into the dip of his collarbone as you still on his cock and let him go back to working you up and down, murmuring in your ear about how good you feel, what a perfect girl you are, how you'll never fuck anyone else but him for the rest of your life. And you want to believe it's true.
"Work won't be the same anymore," you say against his skin, voice muffled.
"Christ, baby, you're thinking about work?" he taps on your neck and you pull back to look at him, shivering as he continues to fuck you relentlessly as he speaks to you, "Don't think about work right now, querida, not when I've got my cock buried inside you."
"I want you to start fucking me at work," you say suddenly, brow furrowing in pleasure as he hits the deepest part of you again, "In secret, please."
He stills for a second, surprise appearing on his face before he smiles, starts fucking you again with even more fervor, grunting with very thrust.
"Of course I will, baby," he says, pressing his forehead against yours, gripping your hips tighter and fucking you fast and hard, so much so that you feel yourself writhe off the bed again, fingers clasping around nothing as you moan loudly, "I told you, ever since I met you I knew you needed this, needed my cock," he kisses you then, wet and hot, and you feel the tension in your belly start to build, "Gonna give it to you every chance I get from now on, I promise."
You whimper at his words, fucking yourself down on him as hard as you can and letting out cries of pure bliss as he begins to hit your favorite spot over and over, so impossibly deep inside you that you think maybe he will split you open. He rises off the bed with you a bit, holding you tight to him as he wildly bucks into you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
"Gonna come, hermosa," he whispers in your ear, breath hot and sticky against your skin, "Give me one more, get that pussy all wet for me," you let out an inhuman sound and feel yourself involuntarily bite into his shoulder, making him groan.
"I'm sorry," you moan, pulling back and seeing the crescent shaped mark in his flesh.
"For what?" he groans, and you feel his thumb start to prod your clit, rubbing it furiously, "Do it again, baby, mark me up, make me yours," you feel your orgasm overtake you at the words, fingernails digging into his back as you writhe and cry in his arms. Without hesitation you bite down on him again, not hard enough to break the skin but enough that there will most certainly be a mark there tomorrow.
He groans at the sensation, pulling you impossibly closer and stilling inside you as he pumps the condom full of his spend, twitching inside you at every pulse. He doesn't pull out right away, just lays still within you while you pant against his shoulder, eyeing the purple mark beginning to bloom on his skin.
"I bit you," you say, eyes wide.
He shifts slightly beneath you, cock still filling you up as he chuckles, "Yes, you did."
"I'm sor-"
He puts a hand up, shaking his head, "Don't apologize, cariño, I like it."
You nod slowly and carefully pull yourself off his cock, already missing the full sensation of having him deep inside you. You lay back on the bed beside him, eyes closed as he disposes of the condom and then settles himself tightly against your side, spooning you and pressing gentle kisses to the back of your neck.
"Did you mean what you said?" you ask quietly, eyes still closed as you feel yourself begin to drift off in his embrace, "Will you really fuck me at work?"
He laughs, gorgeous and perfect in your ear, "Yes, mi sol, I meant it."
--
Javi takes you home early the next morning so you can change your clothes, not wanting Steve to know about what happened last night, as much as it would probably tickle him to know he had a hand in it. He waits for you outside, listening to the radio in his car and squinting against the bright sun, fingers tapping against the base of the window absentmindedly. After a few moments you come back out, wearing a yellow blouse this time in honor of your new nickname. He smiles radiantly at you and you know you made a good choice.
You both manage to keep Steve completely in the dark for the first part of the day; Javi goes back to ignoring you the way he usually does, which you have to admit makes you feel a little bad. But it's all water under the bridge when he follows you to the women's bathroom around noon and locks you inside one of the stalls with him. A few seconds later his cock is hitting the back of your throat as he proves to you that he wasn't lying.
--
"What's that?" Steve says in the late afternoon, only about an hour until you can go home. You look up from your desk but he isn't talking to you, his gaze fixed on Javi.
"What?" Javi replies, brow furrowing as he looks down at himself, "Got a bug on me or something?"
"No, you have a bite mark on your shoulder," Steve says matter-of-factly, and you feel your cheeks go hot, eyes widening as you stare at Javier and watch him figure out what to say.
He just shrugs coolly, "Yeah, slept with this wild bonita last night, she wanted to mark me," he looks back down at his work, "Your wife ever do shit like that, Murphy?"
Steve sighs deeply, leaning back in his chair, "No, she doesn't."
"Thought so," Javi smirks, still not looking up from his paperwork, and you watch as Steve twists his mouth into a scowl, shaking his head.
A few seconds later Steve's looking over at you, giving you a small look of what you can only describe as sympathy, "Sorry," he mouths, shrugging dejectedly, "My bad."
You give him a smile in return, shaking your head, unable to help the rush you feel at not getting caught.
"It's okay," you mouth back, "I'll get over it."
You know Javi is watching you this time.
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thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip (entirely optional of course but much appreciated).
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chloe-skywalker · 1 year
Text
Give Them A Chance - Robb Stark
Robb x fem!reader Baratheon/Lannister
Warnings: GOT
Word count: 1,362
Summary: Robb and Y/n don’t know that their fathers plan to betroth them. But Ned has a reason for not telling. Will his reason work?
Authors Note: Takes place in like the first episode of season 1 Game Of Thrones. Like right after the whole “You got fat” lines.
Masterlist
Game Of Thrones Masterlist
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Y/n watched the exchange between her father and his friend Ned Stark Warden of the North. It was very odd but she thought it was nice that they were such good friends that they still joked around with each other. She didn’t see her father act so freely like this often. It was a rare welcome sight.
“So I take it this is your oldest.” King Robert sighed looking at the eldest of Ned’s children with a scrutinizing gaze before breaking out into a smile.
“Yes, this is Robb.” Ned introduced his oldest son to his friend.
Robert slapped a hand on the young man’s shoulder, smiling widely. “You're a handsome young lad.”
Robb tried to contain his blushing that he was sure he was doing. “Thank you, your Grace.”
“You should meet my oldest. Y/n!” Robert called over his oldest daughter, but not before sparing a knowing glance to Ned. As Y/n came to stand next to her father, smiling politely at the Stark family before her. “This is my oldest. A year younger than you I believe.”
“Princess.” Robb bowed, before looking at the princess. She had caught his eye when she first entered Winterfell on horse back alongside her uncle. He could not deny she was gorgeous, and he couldn’t believe how fast he had started to fall for her.
“Mi’ Lord.” Y/n curtised, biting her cheek. Thus Robb Stark was by far one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. And she had seen a lot of people growing up in KingsLanding. She wondered if his personality was as nice as his looks.
“Would you like a tour of  Winterfell?” Robb asked, offering a way for them to talk and get to know each other a bit. He also was one of the most qualified people to show her around.
“I would love one.” She smiled. Looping her arm through his and the two young adults that in some ways are still kids went off exploring.
While the two went off getting to know each other and everyone else did God knows what, King Robert and Net Stark headed down to the crypts.
“Have you told your son?” Robert asked once they were done talking about Ned’s sister. The King was curious if his friend's son had offered to show his daughter around on his own or out of duty.
“Not yet.” Nod squinted, he didn’t like the idea of taking this choice from his son. But the other part, this was a good alliance, and you don’t deny a king.
“And why not?” Robert had told Ned of the idea to marry their oldest months ago. But to be fair he didn’t tell his daughter either.
“Because I wanted to give them a chance to fall in love before knowing they might be betrothed.” Ned explained his reasonsings, and even though Robert would never admit it he admired Ned’s heart and how he was trying to make this a better situation for their children. It was better than just throwing them together.
“Very well. I didn’t tell my daughter either. She would’ve fought me on coming.” He chuckled. Y/n would’ve tried to fight him or talk him out of it, and it might’ve worked even the slightest. Out of all his children she was the only one that had a somewhat relationship with him.
“They’d be more reluctant if they knew about what we had planned. The two of them being in the dark might lead to them actually gaining feelings for the other.” Ned just hoped that the two would get close and at least see they could make a marriage work. But he was truly hoping that maybe they could fall in love on their own and there wouldn’t be any hard feelings or reluctantness.
^     ^     ^
It had been a few weeks and things seemed to be working out for Y/n and Robb like Ned had hopped. Y/n seemed to fit right into the Stark family. She got along with all his children and they all act as if she’s one of them. Things between Robb and Y/n had taken some people by surprise. The two had been spending almost all their time together. They only separated to sleep it seemed like.
Ned was happy to see they had a lot in common. The two went horseback riding constantly and Y/n seemed to know how to use a bow and a sword no doubt thanks to her uncle. They didn’t even eat apart at meals.
Today Robb and Y/n had gone out riding, once they were far enough away from Winterfell the two dismounted their respective horses walking along next to each other.
“Are you having a good time in Winterfell Princess Y/n?” Robb asked, hoping that the time they’d spent together had been as enjoyable for her as it was for him.
Y/n smiled, nudging him teasingly shoulder to shoulder. “Yes, I am as matter of fact. My favorite part is the company.”
Robb blushed looking down before looking back to her. Robb had no idea why she could so easily make him react like that, but she could and he didn’t mind it. “You flatter me y/n.”
“You’ve been flattering me the whole time I’ve been here. It’s only fair.” Y/n smiled. As they came to the set of trees that they had made their spot over the time she had been in the North.
Robb just stood there watching her for a moment. He never expected to fall in love with her when he first found out the King, Queen, and their children were coming to visit. But he had and he didn’t regret it. “If I may be bold and speak my mind, Princess?”
Y/n nodded, smiling back at him as she turned to face him. She noticed how he wasn’t right next to her and Y/n wondered what had made him stop and if it had to do with what was on his mind. “Go ahead. I won’t stop you.”
“During your time here in Winterfell I have become quite taken with you.” Robb stated walking over to her. He looked in her eye’s trying to notice how his works were being taken.
“And I you.” Y/n blushed, biting her lip at her response back to him admitting his feelings for her. Which she reciprocates.
“I have a proposal for you Princess Y/n Baratheon.” Robb felt an air of convenience hit him at Y/n admitting she feels the same.
Y/n furrowed her brow, it confused her on why he was using her title and first and last name. “Go on Lord Stark.”
Robb took a deep breath, he knew what he wanted he just hoped she wanted it to. “We may not have known each other for very long or very well for the most part. But I would like for us to get to know each other better over time. If you’d like that of course.”
“I would.” Y/n nodded liking where he was going with this so far.
“Would you  also like it if we could become husband and wife, Lord and Lady.” Robb stepped right up to her, reaching out to intertwine their hands. Looking into her eye’s Robb reached up with one hand leaving the other one still in hers, he cupped the side of her face, “Would you do me the great honor and become my wife? For all my days till the end of my days?”
Y/n reached up with her free hand and cupped the back of his neck, while squeezing his hand holding hers. Looking up into his eyes with what could only be happiness and adoration Y/n answered. “I would love to.”
In her short time visiting the North Y/n had really connected with the Starks and of course Robb the most. Yes, she’d miss her siblings (minus Joffrey) and she'd miss her uncles but this felt like the better place for her. And as long as she has Robb, Y/n will always be happy.
Taglist; @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld
@starkleila
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Text
~NOT YOU TOO!~
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miles1610/hobie brown x black fem! reader
sum: miles cheats on reader w gwen, reader gets even 🤷🏽‍♀️
warnings : slang, the n word, cursing, cheating . emotional cheating. READER BEING PETTY unedited and not proofread
genre: angst, a lil of comfort?
a/n:i rly hope it don’t disappoint, part 2 w miles and reader make up eventually, cause i can’t stand writing miles as a dickhead. JUST A STORY, I DONT CONDONE CHEATING, DONT THIS TO PEOPLE.
- - - - - - - - - <\3 - - - - - - - - - -
first time in a long time.
hurting deeply inside .
there it was. the confirmation you so desperately needed to blow off on miles. you’d suspected he was messing with gwen for a little while now, him leaving you too go on missions with her that ONLY they knew about, being on facetime with her while he was at YOUR house, his highlight on instagram for her, not to mention the countless drawings of her around his room that he hid horribly, just a bunch of weird shit. you had conversations about it before but he always reassured you and gaslit you until you shook of the accusations. but now, now you knew he was cheating. miles was in the shower he left his phone on the nightstand, you looked long and hard at it. debating whether if it was a invasion of privacy, as you thought about it you get more and more upset. if gwen could be an invasion of your relationship then this didn’t really matter. you pick up the phone and put the password it, it’s his birthday (narcissist 🙄.) you go to gwen’s message thread, the blue heart next to it made you infuriated. your stomach twist and your eyes leak with tears that you don’t even try to wipe not wanting to miss anything. all of the “i love you’s” and the “im with her right now’s” made your fingers tremble as you scrolled farther into their text. why did he waste his time with you if he loved her? why would he do that to you? when did he fall out of love? what did you do? your thoughts quickly interrupted by the sound of the shower turning off you jumped up turned the phone off and put it in the same downward facing position wiping your face speed walking back to the bed pretending to watch tv.
“what’s going on now , ma?“ he asked referring to the episode you were watching. your face turned as you came up with a lie. “uh nothing really they just found out she was pregnant” you huffed, you’ve never been a good liar and miles could read your emotions like they were his own, you had no idea how you were going to go the rest of the night with him, so you didn’t. getting up from the bed you acted like your mom texted you to come home, frowning looking at the fake text. miles squinted at your pout, walking closer to you he said,
“you okay?” “my mom said i had to come home, she’s going out tonight and wants me to watch my sister, she’s sick” miles fake frowned “you want me to come with you?” he suggested walking to his drawers to get some clothes. you shook your head no “i don’t want you to get sick, it’s fine i’ll just facetime you okay?” you said as you picked up your purse and put on your shoes. “okay at least lemme drive you home. can’t have my baby walking alone in the dark.” he joked as he put on his own shoes and jacket too. you internally cringed at his sentence reminded of who he also called his “baby”.
trust, trust who?
watching my back even when i’m in the booth.
ohh, trust who?
you’re in the passenger seat of his car, seeing the blue hair tie in the cup holder that wasn’t yours. you stared at it for a bit rethinking your entire relationship. he glanced at you, then the hair tye. he spoke up rubbing your thigh trying to get your mind off of it. “u wanna go to the mall tomorrow? we can get froyo.” he suggested knowing that you liked the froyo place in the mall, you knew he was trying to make you happy so you wouldn’t question the hair tye you just went along with it.
“yea okay.” you smiled warmly at miles not meaning it at all. his phone buzzed and you both looked down at it, the speed of which he grabbed it in was almost inhumane. you side eyed him closely as he swiped the opened the message then turned his phone off placing it into the cup holder facing away from you. as you pulled up to your house he leaned forward to peck your cheek, you couldn’t stand the feeling of his lips on your skin right you. “bye mami, facetime me later okay?” he whispered as he looked into your eyes with that same look on his face that made you swoon once before. “okay, i will” you said knowing you weren’t. as soon as you got into your room you cried, searching in your mind for a clue on why he was doing this to you. you’d tears interrupted once again as your phone buzzed, who was calling you and why couldn’t they go away ?? you checked it as a small smile speared on your face it was margo. margo kess had been your best friend since before you met miles, she worked at the same spidey agency he did , or whatever the fuck it was called. you answered wiping your tears. she was eating unti she saw your expression. “what happened??? why you crying boo?” she frowned at you through the screen “miles is cheating on me with gwen, i checked his phone” you chuckled through sniffles as her jaw dropped “what the fuck?? u exposed him his ass right ??” she shouted and you shook your head “i was in denial i guess, i still can’t believe this shit” “you know what you gotta do right?” she said and your face turned into a confused expression “what i gotta do?” she rolled her eyes “get even duhhhhh!! you way to pretty to let this nigga cheat on you with a big back ass bitch you know that.” you snorted at her compliment “ion know mar, maybe gwen didn’t know we was dating” you said trying to express grace to gwen.
“bitch how?? all that nigga do is talk about you, not to mention youre his lock screen.” you tilted your head in agreement, she spoke up again “and you been told his ass all that shit he did with gwen was weird and he didn’t stop it? if he wanna act nonchalant you can act notchabitch” margo smiled as she her attempt to cheer you up worked. “speak of the damn devil, guess who texted me.” you smirked as margo raised her eyebrow “don’t tell me you talm bout hobie.” you tried to fight the smile on your face as you clicked on his message
“hey, wyd rn?” the text read. margo sighed as she saw the smile on your face “HOBIE. HOBART BROWN?? really (name)? well i mean the way he looks at you is crazy, and i been saying y’all would be mad cute .” she shrugged as she resolved up her own feelings, you nodded as you thought about it . was this really what you wanted to do? hurt miles? nonono if he didn’t care about hurting you he can’t say shit when you do it back. you texted hobie back “nun rn, wby?” and he replied almost instantly “im bored, lemme come over?” you almost laughed at how you realized that hobie has never cared about your relationship with miles . you told him yes and you said your goodbyes to margo as you got ready for him to come over, eyes burning as you saw the multiple hoodies that miles owned .
“hey love.” hobie said as he walked into your room from the window, you always noticed hoboes accent but you never noticed how attractive it was until now. “hey hobie.” you said as he lifted your chin up with index and thumb. “you’ve been crying? what happened ?” he said trying to read your face. “um nothing just stuff with miles” he almost winced at the mention of miles, he would offen tell you that he wasn’t good for you, guess he was right. “what did he do now. something when gwen again i bet” you sighed deeply remember the messages in his phone again. “yea, he’s cheating i just found out.” hobie eyebrows furrow as you say this, if he didn’t like the way miles was treating you before, he definitely hated him now.
“i was just joking but, really? what the fuck? after everything you’ve done for him? i’m gonna murder him i swear to g-“ “hobie no, no don’t say anything. i’m fine i’m gonna deal with it myself.” you say pushing him back with your fingers. “at least let me make you feel better.” he said giving you a tight hug. he smirked as he said “you know i’d never make you feel like that.” you snorted into his chest pulling away, hobie grabbed your face with both hands and kissed your forehead. “you don’t deserve this ,(name) you deserve the entire world” he muttered , looking down at you with so much care. stand on your tipe toes to kiss hobie, he doesn’t kiss back for a while in shock but then he reciprocates it and you know you shouldn’t do this, that’s the exact reason why you did it anyway . you pull away looking up into his deep brown eyes, you needed this, comfort from someone that wasn’t hurting you. someone that wasn’t him. he kissed you again more aggressively this time. he pulls away this time only to catch his breath. he pecks your lips once , then twice. he smiles at you then walks to the bed and turns on the tv, you thought it was weird but you also didn’t want to talk about it, and definitely didn’t wanna do anything further. after watching tv with him at a uncomfortable distance you decide to address the elephant in the room.
“so, we not gon talk about that?” you turn off the tv before turning your head to look at him and he does the same “we don’t have to, you know i like you. but i don’t think you need that tonight, i think you just need me here.” he said and honestly, he was right. even though he had you all the way fucked up onna tuesday, you still loved him. you just nod at hobie and he kisses your cheek wrapping his arms around you so he’s spooning you, the way hobie is holding makes you think that he’s the only boy in the world. he falls asleep and you lie awake looking at the ceiling, you decide to go on instagram looking at people’s story until you see gwen’s story, it was a picture of her and miles in his car her feet up on the dashboard, the same car you were just in, the same car you had your first kiss in. that’s not even the half of it, the picture had a “besties” caption on it but you could tell from 20 miles away they were far from that. you take a picture of hobie asleep and post it, tagging him too copying the same caption as gwen had. after maybe 20 minutes miles replies to it “wtf? why are you letting hobie touch you like that? and i thought u had to watch your sister” “and i thought you and gwen were besties?” you reply back sending him the screenshots you send to your phone if gwen and miles text he starts blowing u up like crazy but you put your phone down and snuggle closer into hobie, maybe you could get even.
doing my own thing,
i’m down to come clean,
not like you.
lmk wat u think 😭.
752 notes · View notes
eimids · 11 months
Text
Your worst enemy
Arsenal x reader
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Reder is suffering with depression and doesn’t want her teammates to know.
Warnings: depression, mention of suicide (nothing happens tho), HEAVY on the angst, hurt/comfort?
words: around 3k
Your thoughts had been spiraling for a while, first you didn’t even realize it. Starting with only tiredness and some not so good days. You just brushed then off.
Your depression wasn’t back, it couldn’t be it.
Last time it got so bad that you were almost hospitalized. So this time it couldn’t get to that point. You changed your whole life after your last depressive episode. You changed from Manchester United to Arsenal. You cut contact with toxic people in your life, especially your ex.
But without you even realizing, it became more severe. Not having any energy, going to sleep at 9pm and sleeping for almost 12 hours every day. You were also getting irritated really easily. If something didn’t go your way, you were ready to fight (and cry). Practice was the only moment you had to be energetic. You couldn’t let things affect football. You didn’t want to be with your teammates, the bonding nights only seemed like a lot of work to keep a happy surface.
During best days, everything felt almost normal. But just almost. Something felt always off. Sounds were too loud, lights were too brightbut you were happy. You were supposed to be happy. Why couldn’t you just be happy. Everything was good, what did you have in your life for you to be depressed? Absolutely nothing.
You tried your best to not let anyone notice but you failed miserably. Alessia was the first one to notice and tried subtly to talk to you about it. You were closest to her at Arsenal. You transferred with her from Manu so you knew each other from there. Although you were only 19 you and Less where getting along really well. After practice she offered to grab coffee with you, then have a nice girlsnight with her.
“Oh it’ll be fun. We can just go to my apartment to watch some movies and order your favorite food” The older woman tried to convince you.
You were hesitant at her suggestion. After the long day you were already overwhelmed and tired. You just wanted to sleep away the never ending tiredness. You hadn’t had even that long day. Only practice and recovery. Then some quick media stuff. But even that made you exhausted. Wanting to just rot away in your bed you made some excuse for Less.
“I’m sorry i’m just really tired today and I’m gonna have to call to my parents about them coming to visit” You said as casually as you could.
Lessi almost believed it, but she knew something deeper was going on. She’d seen you get more and more tired during the last months and she didn’t really know what to do about it.
“You know you can always talk to me if you have something on your mind?” Less blurted out.
You were pondering your options. You could say that things were ok and not to worry about you. But you could also confess the hard truth. Your depression was back. But Less would have to tell that to Leah and Kim, who were obligated to tell Jonas and the team management.
“I know Less, but I’m doing okay” You said and smiled. Then you just grabbed your kitbag and left the training grounds.
It was already 8pm and it was getting dark. You still didn’t have your drivers license so you couldn’t drive by yourself. You could ask a lift from one of your teammates but most of them had left or were still doing media. Uber felt useless waste of money so you decided to walk home. It was only four kilometers so it wasn’t anything too bad. You started your walk on the quiet roads of England. There was some pubs and bars you walked past to. Hearing the usual catcalls from some gross old men. You tried to ignore them you put your music louder in your headphones and continued walking.
Your phone was on ‘do not disturb’ mode as you continued your walk. You didn’t really notice anything around you. Not even truly caring about anything. You just wanted the numbness and tiredness to go away. Somehow you managed to get to your apartment. You took your shoes off and walked straight to your bed. Not caring that you were still wearing your day clothes. Your apartment was a mess so you didn’t even bother to look for any other clothes.
The next day you woke up and it was already 10am. Another 12 hours had passed with your sleeping. You knew you were going to be late but still didn’t bother to get up. You decided to check your phone only to find 3 missed calls from Less and texts.
Lessi🤍
8.47pm
Viv said you didn’t ride with her back home? Don’t say you walked! I could’ve driven you home..
9.12pm
Please answer to me that you are okay y/n. I just want to know you got home safely.
10.39pm
I really hope you are already asleep at your house. I’m worried please call me when you can.
You were alarmed when you heard something from your kitchen. You quickly got up and went to look for the sound. Your kitchen was cleaned, the living room was cleaned, what was happened.
Alessia. She stood there in your kitchen making you breakfast. You were confused about everything even though you had given Less your spare keys.
“Morning y/n, we need to have a talk” Less just said. Clearly not happy.
“Well yeah, you can’t just show up to my apartment” You answered.
“Yea I can when I’m worried sick about you. I asked almost everyone on the team if they had taken you home but no. Did you walk home? You can’t be that reckless, something could’ve happened. So when you didn’t answer I decided to come over to see what’s going on. I’m glad I found you safely home, sleeping” Less started her lecture.
“I didn’t walk” You lied. “I ordered an uber and got home safely” You continued with the lies. You could see the anger and worry on Alessia’s face turn to guilt. “I was tired and didn’t want to bother anyone so I just ordered the uber. You don’t have to worry about me Less, I’m okay” You said with a smile. You were trying to be convincing although all that came from your mouth was lies.
“Oh i’m so sorry y/n. I don’t know what got to me but you’ve been acting weird lately and I just got so worried when you didn’t answer. Maybe I should get going, I’m sorry again” Alessia said and started to grab her things.
You stopped her by hugging her. You weren’t mad at her, although you didn’t want her to be worried about you, I felt nice to know that she cared about you. “You can stay Less, have breakfast with me” You said to her softly.
So she did. You ate your breakfast in a comfortable silence and then talked about your next match that you were going to have in couple days. You were supposed to leave to Manchester later that day. After you ate, Less grabbed her stuff again and left. You were happy with yourself that you convinced her that everything was okay.
You and Alessia both missed the team meeting of that morning but were on time to get to your bus to leave to Manchester. You got a little lecture from Jonas but didn’t really care. Wasn’t the first time.
On the bus most of your teammates were on the back of the bus listening to music and chatting. You however were sitting in the front. Headphones in listening to Taylor Swift and trying to sleep. It wasn’t hard with how exhausted you were. Sleep came nowadays always easily.
At some point you were woken by Kim sitting next to you. You tried to just act like you were sleeping but the skipper knew better.
“I know you’re awake y/n. Why don’t you come to the back of the bus with the others and have some fun, you have missed a lot of team bonding nights lately and the girls miss your company” Kim stated to you. You could hear Katie singing in the back of the bus and laughed a little.
“Okay I can come for a while. But I really need my beauty sleep” You tried to joke. Kim laughed a little before walking back to her seat. You followed her and were welcomed with teasing from your teammates.
“Well good to see you y/l/n, feels like I haven’t seen you in ages” Katie teased as she saw you walking to the back of the bus. “Come sit next to me” She continued.
You really didn’t want to hear the teasing from Katie but decided to still take the seat next to her. In front of you were Beth and Viv. In the next booth of four were Less, Leah and Kyra. Music was blasting and you saw as Katie was filming a tiktok about the her day. She filmed you in it with the something along ‘She’s alive’. You smiled for the camera but actually you wanted to cry. You were tired af the teasing. You were tired of everyone fussing about you. Why couldn’t you just enjoy some peace and quiet.
You zoned out for a while and next thing you realize was that Leah was gently waking you up.
“Wake up sleepy” Leah said quietly and smiled to you.
“Oh sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep” You said while looking around. Everyone else had left the bus, you were at your hotel.
Leah just hummed and helped you get your stuff and then walked with you to the entrance. Your teammates were sorting out rooms. You were hoping to get a room for yourself all alone. When you’re name was called at last you found out that you were paring with Leah. Kim and Leah changed looks that you didn’t notice.
Some of your teammates, mainly Viv, Beth and Less had went and talked to your skippers about your weird behavior. They had all noticed the signs of depression. Especially Less who had known you when you had your latest episode. They had made a small plan to get you to talk. Leah would be rooming with you, Kim would encourage you to be more with the other girls. Viv and Beth where just like parents who took notice about your behavior and made sure that you took care of yourself. They didn’t want to talk to you yet about it. They want you to come talk to them, or to anyone at that matter.
The rest of the day was a blur. You had a practice on the pitch, some recovery in cold pool, dinner. At practice you were almost benched because you were playing recklessly. Taking stupid risks and tackling people. A lot of your tackles were not even towards others, more so you could get yourself hurt. They were stupid and you knew it but just didn’t care.
After dinner your head was a mess. You felt overwhelmed and you couldn’t really take a notice of your surroundings. Kyra was walking next to you to the elevator. For the next couple of hours you were supposed to spend time with your teammates. You knew you had to show your face there for people not to get suspicious but you were in a bad mental state and just wanted to be alone. You walked hand in hand to the meeting room where pretty much everyone was in already. You smiled and talked for a while before trying to make an excuse to leave.
“Don’t leave yet, you just came here” Viv said to you. Trying to find someone else in the room who was in on the plan. She saw Leah and waved her over.
“I’m just not really in a mood to be here, I was thinking about having a shower and just going to sleep” You answered. Not having the energy to make up excuses.
“Y/n it’s not even 6pm, can’t you just stay here with us for a little while longer?” Leah asked hopefully.
Everything was just too much for you. The music in the background, Leah and Viv asking too many questions. Your breathing started to pick up pace. You knew that if you didn’t get away now, you would most likely end up having a panic attack. So you left. Without a word to Leah or Viv. You just turned around and walked away. You ran to your room and quickly closed the door. You fell to the ground and couldn’t help the tears in you eyes starting to spill.
You hated it, hated it all. You hated your mind for not being normal. You hated yourself for not accepting help from the other who clearly were just worried about you. You hated your teammates for trying to help. You hated the feeling in your head that just didn’t go away. You just hated it all.
Leah and your other teammates decided to give you some time for a while. Letting you calm down. But they all knew that they needed to do something. Leah and Kim decided to talk to the team management the first thing the following day. They knew you needed help and couldn’t watch on the side as you were slowly ruining yourself. After sometime Leah decided to come back to your shared room. She expected to find you sleeping but was concerned when you weren’t in the room. She checked the bathroom but no. You weren’t there. She got worried quickly. Her mind went first to the worst scenarios. Did something happen to you, did yo do something to yourself, was it too late for her to come look for you, she was blaming herself instantly.
“She isn’t hear” Leah said in a panicked voice as soon as Kim answered her call.
“What do you mean Leah?” Kim asked worriedly.
“She isn’t in our room, what if something has happened” Leah worried.
“Okay let’s not panic yet. Come back to the team room and we’ll make a plan” Kim said to Leah. Being the captain she knew she had to stay calm. They talked as Leah walked back to the team room. Kim had asked most of the girls to go back to their rooms and have a chill night. Not wanting to consern them.
Viv, Beth, Katie, Alessia, Leah and Kim were the ones to stay. They knew you the best and right now all they wanted was to find you.
“Has anyone called her?” Beth asked.
“Well yeah but she didn’t answer, it went straight to voicemail” Leah answered.
“She’s an adult and can leave if she wants, right now there isn’t much we can do unfortunately. Leah I suggest you go back to your room and see if y/n comes back. Inform us immediately if she comes, Viv and Beth can you go to the restaurant and bar to check if y/n’s there?” Kim started to make a plan.
Kim, Less and Katie stayed in the teamroom. Alessia was crying. She knew how bad it could get for you. Last time, about two years ago, she and Ella Toone had found you on the roof of the hotel, ready to jump. After that you started to get better. You were put on antidepressants and went to therapy for a year. She was happy that you were getting better. She didn’t want to believe the signs of depression when she first noticed them again. She didn’t want you to go through that again.
The team didn’t have to look for a long time before you showed up back in your room where Leah was pacing around. She stopped immediately when she heard the door open. Next she saw you with tears in your eyes standing there. Looking so fragile.
“I think I need help Leah, please help me” You said with the tiniest voice, lips quivering but Leah heard you. She came running to you before you collapsed on her embrace. You cried as she carried you to the bed and then continued to let you cry against her.
She quickly found her phone in her pocket and sent a quick text to Kim that you were back. Then she ignored the respond she got and just continued to hug you.
“I’m here for you and I’m going to get you the help you need” Leah whispered in your ear.
This was supposed to be longer but I don’t really know how to continue this so I might do a part 2 where reader sorts with the aftermath about everything. Would you be interested in part 2?
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lime1991 · 8 months
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those mlp infection aus on tiktok have been alright but heres my idea to consider:
the main characters of the au are the cmc. theyre not the lone survivors, and heres why: the infection almost entirely affects adults. this is just like a book i read in 5th grade, thats where im stealing this from.
Applebloom is the self appointed leader, shes best at foraging for food and growing it as well as building re-enforcements for the shelter (which is the clubhouse. it's higher up so they dont have to worry about most infected ponies reaching them.)
Scootaloo is the defender of the base as well as the group in general. shes the one who handles the weapons and is first to sacrifice herself for her friends to get to safety. She says its because he doesnt want to hold them back due to her disability, they tell her she doesnt have to think like that. but its hard not to.
Sweetie Belle is... not all there. sometimes she forgets the apocalypse has happened and that most of her loved ones are dead. Scootaloo and Applebloom take turns sleeping during the night to make sure someone is always lookout. that, and they can't risk Sweetie Belle unknowingly walking into the dark trying to get home.
Partially inspired by one of the best animes ive ever seen: School Live, Scootaloo and Applebloom sometimes, when Sweetie is having an episode, pretend everything is normal. Is the most they can do for their friend, who is clearly so traumatized that her brain blocks out the reality of their situation. Sometimes, Applebloom wishes that could happen to her.
When the infection started, it slowly took over the elderly first. Granny Smith got sick, fast. Big Mac and Applejack took care of her, but only a few days later she would turn into some kid of monstrous creature. Big Mac did the unspeakable act of putting her out of her misery.
Sweetie Bell was sent to go live with Rarity while her mother was sick. Her father began to feel ill too, and didn't want her to get herself and her friends at school sick as well. She could hear over the phone the conversations her sister and father had. How mom was getting worse, how dad was getting worse. How they stopped calling altogether.
A couple days into the widespread sickness, Scootaloo's aunts took a trip to the store to stock up on groceries just incase a quarantine was issued. They were gone for hours. They were gone for days. They never came back. Eventually, Scootaloo traveled outside of her home by herself, and could never return.
Once Big Mac and Applejack started showing signs of illness, Applejack spoke to cousins in other places wondering if they would be able to let Applebloom stay with them a while. But just like everyone in Ponyville, they were experiencing the same issue. At one point, Fluttershy agreed to watch Applebloom until AJ and Big Mac started to feel better.
After hearing that Fluttershy graciously took in Applebloom, Rarity sent Sweetie Belle off to her the moment she started to cough. She didn't want Sweetie to see her like that. She didn't want her to get sick either, and in fact, she probably transported it from their parents house and into Rarity's. That made Rarity angry. Her last words to Sweetie were about how upset she was that she'd brought the illness to her.
Scootaloo went to Fluttershy herself. She couldn't find Rainbow Dash, so she settled for the next best pony. She was shocked to see her friends had been there themselves the past few days. Scootaloo only managed to stay a few hours, because during the night the crusaders awoke to a crash in another room. Upon investigation they saw Fluttershy hunched over a broken glass. There was blood on the floor.
They went to comfort her, but she wasn't herself any longer. When she turned to face them it already looked like she'd been ravened by the infection. She was so hungry. Why couldn't the jar just open? She was so... hungry. Before she could even stand back up, the crusaders grabbed their things and fled to the only place they knew they'd be safe. The clubhouse.
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andkisses · 1 year
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♡ he takes care of you (1) | enha ♡
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ot7!enha headcanon: they take care of you when you have a headache
♡ ot7 x gn!reader | wc. 1.2k ♡ genres/tropes: fluff!  casual hurt/comfort ♡ mentions of/warnings: pain, pain meds, headaches ♡ a/n: little something for every member <3 jungwon’s first and the rest below the cut ^^ dedicated all my migraine homies </3 also lowkey not proofread it could be better lol ♡ masterlist ♡
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✧・゚: * jungwon
“are you feeling better?” he asks. jungwon pouts as he watches you shake your head, still squinting. you snuggle back up into the blanket, and further into jungwon’s side. the tv plays so softly, the sound might as well be off. jungwon has watched four episodes of whatever drama netflix recommended, understanding everything through facial expressions and subtitles. every half hour or so, he would check your tempurature, just to make sure it wasn’t something else. but you stayed cool–or warm?--and jungwon knew it was just one of those days. “don’t worry,” he whispers against the crown of your head, planting a gentle kiss as episode five opens to a melodramatic scene.  “i’ll stay right here for as long as you need.”
✧・゚: * heeseung
he comes home to find you on the couch, under a blanket, in total silence. the lights are off and the tv, which is normally playing reruns of your favorite dramas, is silent. oh no, he thinks, a sad smile on his face as he gently pulls back the blanket. you rest, asleep, with a line between furrowed brows, headache plaguing you even know. heeseung takes one finger, lightly running it down your forehead to the tip of your nose over and over in slow, soothing strokes until that angry line fades away. heeseung can tell you still hurt, even in your sleep. it leaves a certain pang in his heart. he wishes he could take your pain from you, but since he can't, he settles for what he thinks is next best. heeseung places a warm, tender kiss between your brows. then, he pulls the blanket back up and sits on the other end of the couch, electing to read a book. he stays close, as close as he can, so he can always be there for you.
✧・゚: * jay
when you came home, stumbling through the front door, leaving your stuff in a messy heap to disappear into the room you shared, jay knew what was occurring. he takes the time to stop what he's doing and sort your things–shoes on the rack, bags on the hook, keys in the bowl on the table by the front door. next, he grabs a small glass of cold water and some pain medicine. jay slips into the bedroom, which you've left dark and unlit. he can barely make out your figure curled up on top of the covers. he places his things on the side table and sits beside you on the bed. he rubs his hand up and down your back, and frowns when you whimper. "take these," he whispers, helping you sit up. after you've taken your medicine, jay wraps you in his arms, pulling you both down. he selfishly savors how you feel, snuggling into the crook of his neck. how lucky he is to be able to hold you and help you whenever he can, he thinks, kissing your temple. whatever he can do for you, jay will.
✧・゚: * jake
he knows something is up from the way you squint when you laugh too hard, or take a moment to stare at the food on your plate you merely pushed around. at one point, you’re mid conversation, stumbling you’re way through a story, when jake reaches over and places his hand on top of yours. you don’t need to say anything–his look tells you he cares, and jake watches as you slump your shoulders and sink into your chair. “i thought i could just… think it away.” jake makes sure to laugh softly–he knows noises make it worse. you both stand and he holds you close, hand cradling the back of your head with fingers massaging your scalp. he walks you back to your room, where he dims the lights and turns on the fan. he makes sure the blinds and the curtains are shut before tucking you in safe and secure. “i’m sorry about dinner,” you mumble, already relaxing. “it’s okay,” jake assures, smoothing your hair back out of your face. “let me take care of you.”
✧・゚: * sunghoon
he feels awkward, not knowing whether to hold you or give you space, talk or stay silent. he feels like glass, and sunghoon knows you’re really the one in trouble, but he cares so much and overthinks everything he isn’t sure what to do. he’s so in his head, that when you call out to him from your spot on the couch, encapsulated in the cool darkness, that he jumps. “what’s wrong?” you ask, your voice low and tired. you’ve taken your medicine (he knows, he helped you), but sunghoon can tell you’re still in pain. he kneels beside you on the couch, taking one of your hands in both of his, holding them beneath his chin. “i love you so much, it hurts that i don’t know what to do.” painful honesty, but sunghoon feels relief when you smile, telling him to stay. he crawls onto the couch with you, a tight squeeze, but he feels better–and he’s certain you do too–with you firmly and safely in his arms.
✧・゚: * sunwoo
it’s quiet in the car, aside from the air conditioning, sunoo parked it minutes ago, but you’re finally relaxed in your seat, eyes shut, head tucked onto your shoulder. he knows he needs to move you–don’t need to suffer a neck ache too. but after everything you went through? it warrants a small reprieve. “you don’t have to pretend,” he says, leaning over to move a strand of hair from your face. he kisses your forehead and whispers against your skin. “not with me, not ever.” you over a soft, albeit pained smile, looking up at sunoo through your lashes. his heart swells–you tried your hardest to make it through the evening and everything he had planned, but sunoo’s known you long enough–loved you long enough–to see through any facade you put up, no matter how shiny and pristine. sunoo smiles, kissing your cheek this time. he can feel you smile wider. “let’s get you safe inside, hm? i get to take care of you now.”
✧・゚: * niki
at first, he’s nervous when you go silent on your side of the couch. it isn’t that far, but you feel miles from niki in your silence. normally, you’re both going back and forth in your banter, no matter the subject on tv. but about half an hour ago, you started getting quieter and quieter, to the point niki wondered if it was something he said, a line he crossed without even knowing it was there. but then, as he finally gets enough courage to look your way, he sees you with your eyes shut and snuggled into the back of the couch. sometimes, i get these headaches. and now he;s rushing to do everything he can remember–lights off, cold water, medicine, a blanket, and—you wrap your fingers around his wrist, and he freezes in his panic. “thank you,” you say with a smile, and niki is certain you can feel his racing heartbeat through his wrist. “for taking care of me.” suddenly, the panic has melted away, and a new nervousness washes over niki–a unique worry of how much he loves you, and how it’s so much more than he ever anticipated.
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pettypuppy-jonghyun · 2 months
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Giggle Fits
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Summary: most precious bean in all the earth cannot stop laughing and making dumb jokes with his s/o, but they share his humor too warnings: none just fluff (and maybe bad jokes and quotes) 1028 words
Wooyoung was already sitting on the couch munching on some snacks when you entered the living room. Your favorite blanket was conveniently wrapped around his frame, tucked deeply behind him, most likely to prevent you from taking it back. He did everything possible to avoid eye contact.
You squinted your eyes at him, plopping down on the couch. "You look cosy," you remarked sarcastically.
He hummed, biting back a mischievous smile and still avoiding your eyes. He knew he would be unable to keep a straight face if he looked at you. That man was weak when it came to you.
A moment passed where he finally managed to fight the urge and settled back into his show. It was one he often binged when he came home. You recalled him mentioning how much he preferred to watch crime shows when he was in comfortable clothes and knew he wouldn't be sleeping alone.
The next episode started, the familiar theme song playing once again. "You know, you'd think the singers would get tired of repeating this song for every episode."
Wooyoung suddenly burst into laughter at your silly words, immediately looking your way. "What are you even saying?"
You started giggling too, shrugging carelessly. "What? Am I wrong? It's the same one each time!"
He continued to laugh loudly, hand reaching up to cover his mouth as if to contain the sound. "You're so stupid. What are on?"
You couldn't help but lean forward in your seat, laughing just as loud as him. "You're stupid! You're telling me they don't get tired of repeating it so often? The same song, over and over-" you were cut off by a pillow being launched in your face.
"Stop it!" Woo cried out, wiping at the tears that built up. "I can't hear the show!"
You threw the pillow back at him, cheeks hurting from grinning so hard. "You're going to look at me and tell me that I'm wrong?"
He let out a scream, his laugh increasing its pitch as his head fell forward and landed on the arm of the couch. "Why are you...quoting...videos?" His words were barely coherent with the gasping in between.
You two shared random moments like these often. It only took one comment for you to suddenly burst into a fit of giggles, bouncing off each other's energy until you couldn't breathe. Usually it was over something dumb and not nearly as funny to others, but that's what made it special. The fact you shared the same humor and enjoyed those dumb laughs.
You were able to sit up more after a moment of deep breaths, regaining your train of thought as you did so. "No but seriously you need to start skipping the intro or I will murder you in your sleep."
He sighed heavily, flexing his mouth to help ease the pain in the muscle. "That took a dark turn. "
You sent a pointed finger his way. "I'm serious. And hand over my blanket while we're at it."
"Yes, your majesty," Wooyoung suddenly had a polite response, removing the blanket to raise it above his head with both hands.
Yanking the blanket, you nod at him. "That's what I thought."
He stands, moving to your side of the couch to hover above you. You curl your lip up at him in annoyance, moving your head around him to see the tv. However, Woo blocked you each time.
"Please allow me to lay with you."
Surprised by his words you stare up at at him with a laugh starting again. "What? Do what with me now?"
He smirked, leaning down to grab your arms and hold them away from your blanket. Quickly, he managed to sneak between the comforter and you, snuggling close to you. He nuzzled his head right in your neck, humming softly.
"Get off me you peasant!" You yelled out, wiggling so you could escape his grasp. But it was too late. His arms already snaked around your shoulders, encasing you in and tugging you closer. "Free me!"
He shook his head at your pleas. "Even peasants have desires, your majesty!"
The two of you started giggling at the strange conversation, having no control over the atmosphere anymore. When it came to your evenings together, it was like laughing gas filled the air each time. Uncontrollable laughter becomes quiet only for a brief amount of time before it starts up again.
"Let me go-"
"Shh!" He yelled, a hand struggling to raise up and cover your lips. "The show...it's on!"
You stopped suddenly, eyes maneuvering back to the tv to watch the show you both missed more than half of. Still, you both silently watched the scene that caught his attention. You sat there, squeezed against your lover-against your will- with his hand cupped harshly around your mouth, intently staring at the screen.
"I knew it," he whispered to you, shaking his head. "It was the mother all along."
Taken aback, you swivelled your head to look at him with furrowed eyebrows. "You watched the show without me," you accused.
He sucked in his lips, once again avoiding your eyes. "I did not."
Your eyes widened. "With San?!"
He released you quickly, rushing to put distance between you and him. "Baby, wait-please, wait! Y-you see, I was bored on the airplane, and I-"
"I thought I was the only person you'd cuddle after watching true crime." You shook your head at him. "I guess I was wrong. I guess Kristoff doesn't love you enough to leave you behind."
Wooyoung stumbled over his feet as he attempted to go back to his side of the couch. "Why are you quoting things again?!"
Giggles escaped your lips, mimicking his. "Why do you understand what I'm quoting?"
He rubbed at his face, trying desperately to stop laughing. "I hate you so much."
"Right back at you," you joked, winking and smiling big.
You could never have these sort of conversations with anyone else. The laughs, the crazy talk, the understanding, all of it combined just made the best conversations for you to share. And that was something you grew to adore about Wooyoung.
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fiapartridge · 7 months
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gabe perreault imagine please 🙏🙏
long time coming | gabe perreault 💌🌊⭐️
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gabe perreault x fem!reader
summary: you're sick and the only person who can cure you is your best friend, gabe!
warning(s): fluff, fluff, fluff
author's note: eee this is my first gabe fic! thank u anon for suggesting him, i was in a huge writers slump so ty ty ty! enjoy!
You had heard stories of people falling in love with their best friend; it happened to your parents, your older sister and her boyfriend, all of your cousins, but to you, love just felt unattainable, like maybe you were the exception. The love bug skipped a generation and was already preparing for the next—but now? Now you felt it. You felt it crawl underneath your skin and bubble in your stomach. You felt your chest tighten and the heat rise to your cheeks. 
You were in love, true love.
“Gabe,” you groaned over the phone, his breathing sounding staticy over the line. You had been sick for a few days, only a slight cough and an itchy throat, but today felt 10 times worse. Your stomach was aching, your head felt like it was getting hit by a basketball every couple of seconds, and you sniffled so frequently you were sure that something was going to go up the wrong pipe and straight up to your brain. 
And you felt bad, not only because of your illness, but because it was nearly 2 AM and you could hear Gabe shuffle underneath his dark blue sheets in the dorm he shared with his best friend, Will Smith. You knew it was late and this was wrong. I mean, the boy had a game against Boston University in the morning, now was not the time to wake him, but you just didn’t know what to do. You felt like you were dying and all you needed was one of Gabe’s famous hugs and maybe a back rub (he was really good at those).
“Hey,” he said quietly, trying not to wake the snoring Will on the other side of the room. His eyes were fighting to stay open, determined not to lean onto his fluffy white pillow and fall back to sleep. “You okay?”
You sniffled, grabbing another tissue from the box that laid beside your bed. “I feel like I’m dying,” you responded, your voice sounding congested and nasally—not in the slightest like your normal tone.
You could hear shuffling on the other side of the phone. Then, you could hear keys jangling and his closet door opening, a hoodie getting thrown over his body, and then the door to his dorm being pulled open. You wanted to protest because you knew what he was doing, where he was going, but you had no energy to speak. Instead, your stubborn voice turned to loud coughs that made Gabe want to pull you in his arms and hold you until they faded into oblivion.
But he couldn’t. It was too much for you. It would be weird. You wouldn’t feel the same. It was the exact same thing he’s been telling himself for months (really what he’s been telling himself since the moment he met you). It would ruin your guys’ friendship and you will never want to speak to him again. If only he could hear your thoughts because then, maybe he’d be thinking differently, and it wouldn’t be so hard.
Three soft knocks on the door of your dorm signaled exactly what you suspected would happen. Gabe was your best friend and if he caught the flu, you would be there holding his hand and making him a bowl of chicken noodle soup. If you were crying about a failed test, he would buy you ice cream and agree to watch countless episodes of The Bachelor until you were feeling okay again. One time you were sick with Covid and Gabe didn’t even care. He stayed with you during quarantine, snuggled under mountains of blankets, watching movies until you were sick of them, and gossiping about anyone and anything. It wasn’t a surprise that he caught the sickness a couple days later. Your moms laughed about the memory, finding it endearing that you two loved each other so much that you were willing to be sick together. 
Gabe settled some medicine on your bedside table before lifting your light pink covers and crawling into bed with you. You fit perfectly into his arms, like this spot was made just for you. Despite your sweaty forehead and aching body, he held you tightly, placing small kisses on the crown of your head. Your parents had always joked about you two getting married someday, but sometimes you wished that it was real; that you would grow old with him and live in a big white house with a white picket fence and a large rose garden in the backyard. You truly couldn’t see your life with anyone else. 
But that was silly. Gabe was your best friend. That would just be weird—right?
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He walked all the way from his building to yours in the middle of the night despite having a ginormous game tomorrow. He felt unreal, like how could a person be so perfect and somehow be yours?
“Don’t be,” his words were just as soft. His chin resting on the top of your head as yours fit in the space between his neck and shoulder, leaving delicate kisses on his adams apple. This isn’t what best friends do, you told yourself. Best friends don’t kiss each other. Best friends don’t cuddle underneath sheets and hold hands to “warm each other up.” It was confusing and you hated it. You hated not knowing how he was feeling when you knew exactly how you felt about Gabe.
“You didn’t have to come here.”
“You called.”
You laughed. “That doesn’t mean anything. You could’ve stayed in bed and slept longer and had good dreams and—”
“Hey,” he smiled down softly at you, lifting your chin to look up at him. His hand lingered there for a while, not wanting to move away from you. There was something about you that made Gabe want to be closer and closer. There was something that made him want to parade you around campus, telling everyone that you were his. He wanted to see you in his jersey and kiss you after games and hold you tight at parties. He wanted to take you with him to New York when he plays for the Rangers after college and introduce you to his family as his girlfriend instead of just his best friend. Gabe was ready for more, but he hated thinking that you might not be. “I wasn’t just going to let you die, okay?”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, like that one time you pushed me down that water slide at Hurricane Harbor.”
“Pft, you wanted to go down that.”
You chuckled incredulously. “There is no way you just said that.”
“‘Oh, Gabe, please take me on this waterslide. I’ve been dying to go with you.’”
“I don’t sound like that.”
He grinned. “Yeah, you sound like this,” he said, pinching his nose with his fingers, his voice sounding blocked and nasally.
You pushed his hands away, hiding your face in his clothed chest. “Shut up.”
“C’mon, you love it.”
“I will fight you.”
He ran his hand up and down your arm, your eyes fluttering closed and your breathing steadying. He held you tighter, wrapping both arms around you and snuggling deeper into the bed. His last words before you fell into hypnosis lingered in your mind as you couldn’t even escape your lovestruck dreams of the perfect boy. “Keep telling yourself that, sicko.”
By the time the sun rose, you were sure that he would be gone; that his hoodie would be collected from the carpet, that his legs would no longer be intertwined with yours, and that his belongings would be gone, but he was still there and you were still in his arms and everything was still perfect. His breathing was soft and slow, his little curls were a bit tussled, his cheeks were pale, and you wondered what he was dreaming about that left a ghost of a smile on his face.
You wanted to wake up like this everyday and everyday after that. So yeah, maybe you were in love. Maybe you were in deep. And maybe you were ready to tell him.
He rustled around before lifting his eyes open, his smile growing wider when he saw your pink face, knowing he caught you staring at him as you glanced around the room, trying not to make eye contact with the boy.
“Feeling better?” he asked, turning to his side and facing you. 
A strand slipped through your loose ponytail and settled on the front of your face, covering your eyes as he allowed his hands to work faster than his mind. He slowly brought his hand up, carefully moving the strand behind your ear. And you would expect the moment to be over but when his hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb lightly running over the smooth skin of your face, you knew that maybe just maybe there could be something more.
You nodded slowly. “I’m okay.”
“I’m glad. I hate seeing my girl sick,” he spoke softly as if speaking any louder would shatter the calming atmosphere. 
My girl. You wanted to allow your mind to toss and turn, investigate the meaning behind those two words, search for his thought-process, his feelings, anything, but for the first time in forever, you felt serene and calm with him. You didn’t feel the need to wonder what this meant for the two of you. You were perfectly content where you were now, where you were going, and what you were going to do next.
You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat fast yet gentle. His eyes wandered down to your place of connection and when they met yours again, you could’ve sworn you saw something: a spark, hope, clarity, confirmation.
And when he leaned in, holding your face close with the hand still resting on your cheek, his lips hovering over yours, desperate to connect, you knew nothing would be the same. He would never be just your best friend anymore. And you were perfectly okay with that.
As Gabe leaned in, his lips met yours in a tender, yet passionate kiss. It was a moment that felt suspended in time, where every sensation was heightened—the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, the racing of your heart. In that instant, all doubts melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of certainty and bliss.
The kiss deepened, as if both of you were pouring all the unspoken feelings and desires into this one act. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as you pulled him closer, wanting to feel every part of him against you. His arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer as if he never wanted to let go.
Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, the outside world fading into insignificance. When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, you found yourselves gazing into each other's eyes, the realization of what had just happened sinking in. But there was no fear, no uncertainty, only a profound sense of connection and joy.
“I’m sick,” you said, making Gabe chuckle softly. Of course your first words after a long-anticipated kiss would be that. But that’s what Gabe loved about you. You were you in every sense of the word. You are the reason his stomach hurts from laughing every time he comes back to his dorm, staring into space as he thinks about your giggle and your smile and your stupid humor. You are everything. You’re the world. 
I just kissed the world, Gabe thought. My girl.
With a smile that spoke volumes, Gabe whispered, "I don’t care." 
“You will when you get sick.”
“And will you be here? When I get sick?” he asked, his thumb running back and forth on the exposed space of skin on your pelvis. 
You nodded. You would be there for him through anything no matter what. “Always.”
“Then I’m okay with it.”
And in that moment, as you nestled into his embrace once more, you knew that the stories were real and true; that love is real and true, because you just fell in it and you couldn’t be happier.
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stxrvel · 4 months
Text
back to shibuya
snippets of your life with kento after you both miraculously survived shibuya. pairing: nanami x f!reader content: angst and somehow comfort? a/n: second nanami fic and i can't just drop the angst! but i think this one's more calmer than the last one. hope you guys enjoy! loved seeing your comments <3
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Nanami woke up in the middle of the night, exalted, with a cold sweat running down his body and a terrible disastrous feeling that something horrible had happened. His head did not rest as his arms moved to the left side of the bed… empty. Cold.
For a moment he felt an invisible force steal the breath from his lungs, an uncontainable pressure planted itself in his chest and his erratic breathing only worsened.
In the midst of his shock, he took his gaze around the room.
Dark. Too dark.
Nanami Kento kept having nightmares ever since the Shibuya incident. Waking up after each one was worse when you weren't next to him in bed and it was too hard for him, in the midst of the panic that was gnawing at him, to remember that he had gone to bed the night before with you next to him. Fear clouded his mind and his judgment and without a second thought he found himself crawling out of bed, across the room, the whimpers of your name piercing the silence of the huge house.
“y/n! love…” he almost pleaded.
His feet carried him into the hallway, and from the hallway to the bathroom, from the bathroom to the guest room and from that room to the living room, from the living room to the kitchen where he could barely register the glow of the light on and your figure sprawled on the island chair, sound asleep.
Nanami stood on his feet in the kitchen doorway, his fingers twitching in involuntary spasms. Trying to catch his breath, memories came back to him bit by bit.
That day, when Kento had come in from a heavy day at the office, because he had left the sorcerer world as soon as it was all over in Shibuya, and you were waiting for him at home with one of his favorite dishes. The warmth of the lovingly made food in his mouth, the savoring of your lips on his when he dragged you to bed and didn't let you escape, even though you wanted to watch the new episode of the series you watched together. The tranquility and peace it brought him to have your body curled up with his, between the sheets, with no other care in the world but to have you by his side.
Perhaps he had even sensed when you moved in his arms to get out of bed and from that moment on he had surely begun his nightmare.
Nanami moved towards your figure, his crystallized eyes roaming over your body, his steps light and cautious as if he feared that at any moment you would disappear right in front of his eyes.
With all the good memories also came the bad ones, and his hands clutched at his sides at the spasm of pain that shot through his chest. He would probably never forget the heartbreaking way your lips said his name, repeatedly asking for forgiveness, thinking you would not make it. Inside Shoko's infirmary, holding his hand when by sheer luck he had escaped Mahito's hands with Itadori. But you didn't need to know that, not at that moment, not when Nanami felt you were slipping out of his grip when he had you right in front of him.
Your closed eyes in that awkward posture also brought back those bad memories for him.
“y/n…” Kento stepped closer, reaching up with trembling hands to grab you by the shoulders. He barely brushed against you and his hands contracted. His breathing hadn't calmed at any point, he had simply been fighting back tears. You were there at that moment, fine, alive, he could see the way your body moved slightly as you took in air and expelled it.
You were fine.
So why couldn't he calm down?
Kento watched your profile, deciding not to disturb your sleep, especially since he knew how much it would worry you to see him with that broken expression, with those tears he wasn't being able to hold back.
He dropped down in front of you, his knees touching the cold wood of the floor. His brow furrowed, expression contracted, lips pursed trying not to make even the slightest noise. Tears running down his cheeks, his hands holding his face because he couldn't believe that he still had so much stress and so much fear when too much time had already passed, when Shoko had already saved you, when your recovery was already over. When you were already so well that you had agreed to leave the country to live with him anywhere else in the world.
He didn't know why he was still so full of that anguish when everything was fine. That sometimes made him think that maybe it wasn't true; that he had been imagining that whole journey, that really neither of you had made it past that day and now… and now…
Kento's emotions were too strong and no matter how hard he tried to contain them, it was physically impossible.
When you woke up, you barely registered the yellow light and the view of the kitchen and living room when you heard it. Him.
Your back and neck ached from how fast you moved, frantically looking everywhere until you stood up and your feet bumped into something.
Kento. Huddled in front of you as if he wanted to make himself tiny enough to disappear. His little sobs pierced your soul. Hands covering his face and moving through his hair in an almost desperate gesture.
“kento…” you murmured, trying to get his attention, but that only made his sobs increase. “kento, it's okay. You're okay. We're okay.”
You knelt down in front of him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, feeling something inside him unwind and his arms move extremely quickly to wrap around you just the same. You didn't know what had been going through his head, but from the way he whimpered into the crook of your neck, bringing tears to your own eyes, you knew it was nothing good.
Like every time he had a nightmare, Kento could only go back to Shibuya. It was something that would probably take him years to heal.
“i love you, kento. we're fine.”
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arjwrites · 3 months
Note
— Guess who's back with another request.....‼️‼️‼️
A fluff Castiel x Winchester!Reader where she helps Cas with his wings after a hunt please 😘😻 (I imagine them being dark, HUGE and MEGA soft and she goes like "Woah" (completely distracted for a moment))
Saving Grace- Castiel x GN!Reader
Summary: Cas is hurt after a hunt, and when he's hurting, you're hurting. Sometimes even an angel needs a helping hand. PART TWO HERE! Warnings: None! A/N: WELCOME BACK ANON! Sorry this took me a couple of days- for some reason I was really struggling to get Cas's character right here. I really wanted to do him justice for my loyal requester!!! A bit of context for this one- Cas is able to reveal a physical form of his wings if he chooses. All of the logistics of angel wings are pretty much made up. Good thing I view canon as more of a… rough suggestion! It’s right there in my bio, people. Have a little bit of suspension of belief for a few of the details!!!! Also- this doesn't quite make it to outright romantic territory- it felt to me like a buildup to something bigger in the future! Maybe I'll write a part 2 at some point, who knows... It had been a few hours since you had finished up the day’s hunt. Upon your return to the motel, Sam had instantly run out the door to the local library in search of a better wifi connection to research for the next case, while Dean had followed him into town to grab some supplies. This left you and Castiel, perched in your usual positions on opposite sides of the bed in your separate room. It was common for you and the angel to spend some quiet time together after a hunt- you both often found an unspoken comfort in each other’s simple presence. While you were leaned back, propped up with pillows and dialed into whatever was on TV, Cas held his usual stiff posture, but something seemed off about him. His eyes were glued to the ceiling, and every so often, he would shift in his seat and his whole body would tighten and cringe. You knew he had taken a few pretty serious blows during this hunt, but the fact that he let himself continue to hurt, rather than quickly healing himself, was concerning to you. Usually, this time spent together was silent, enjoying a moment of peace while you each lost yourself in your own thoughts. But after a few episodes and many stolen, worried glances, you felt you had to speak up.
“Cas, what’s wrong? It’s obvious you’re still hurting. Why haven’t you healed yourself?” 
“I’m fine. I just need to figure a few things out.” He continued to avoid your gaze, rising from the bed and pacing across the room to distance himself from you. 
“If you don’t tell me, I can’t help you.” Your level of concern forced you to cut right to the chase. 
Cas pondered this for a second. Could you really help him? Was it even okay for him to ask? Humans certainly hadn’t taken very well to an angel’s true form in the past… But that was a couple thousand years ago, and those humans hadn’t known what you know. If anyone could handle this, it was you. If he could trust anyone, it was you. And it was only his wings- just a sliver of his full form. But still, Cas was hesitant. This was unfamiliar territory for him. 
You watched from across the room as the wheels turned in his mind. His expression was pained, and it seemed like he was wrestling with a hard decision. As much as you wanted to close the gap between you, to comfort him, you knew the best thing to do was to give him his space. You were glad you did, because after a moment, his gaze rose from the floor, settled on you, and he opened his mouth to speak. 
“There’s something wrong with my wings. It’s blocking my grace and I can’t heal myself.” His expression was solemn and his tone direct. Clearly, he wasn’t happy to have to bring this up with you.  
“Your wings?” The mention of the most angelic part of your dear angel sent your heart aflutter (no pun intended). For the most part, Cas’s wings were out of sight, out of mind. Usually he was just the dorky man in a trench coat who just so happened to have some pretty crazy powers. But when you thought about his wings, the parts of him that were so divine and otherworldly, your cheeks burned scarlet. It was a reminder of just how different Cas was from you. 
“Yes. I might need you to… Inspect them. Figure out what is wrong and remove whatever is blocking my grace. I can’t heal myself, Sam, Dean, or you until it’s gone.”
You sucked in a sharp, full breath, your lungs holding tightly to the air for just a moment before slowly pushing it back out of you. 
“Okay. I can do that.” Why were you nervous? It was just Cas. You were just helping out a… friend. 
“It’s very… personal. This vessel you see isn’t really me, but my wings? That is as close as you can get to seeing my true form. I’m… not sure how you would react. It’s not something meant for human eyes. Not here on Earth, anyways. It might upset you or-” 
“If it means helping you, I’m sure I can handle it.” 
“Are you sure-” 
“Cas. Are you in pain?” 
He hesitated for a moment before conceding the truth. “Yes.” 
“Then let me help.”
Castiel sighed, his body tightening in a way that seemed like he was bracing himself. A terse “Alright” escaped his lips, and then the whole room shifted. 
There was no earthly way to describe the sight that unfurled before you. Castiel’s wings were dark, so dark they held no color or shine or reflection- just a void, deep, black nothingness. And yet, they almost glowed. There was some sort of aura that radiated off of them, just as dark as the wings themselves yet tinged ever so slightly blue. It must have been his grace. The aura wrapped around the perimeter of each wing and hugged each individual feather, defining them just enough so you could barely distinguish one from another. Somehow, his wings were dark and light and everything in between- you had never seen anything like it. Cas was right- it was hard to wrap your head around it. You reached down to grasp the surface you were sitting on, half to ground yourself in the moment to believe what you were seeing, and half to make sure you didn’t jump right up to inspect his wings closer. You knew this was hard for poor Castiel- your greatest fear was making him uncomfortable.
“Wow, Cas,” was all you could say. You were completely entranced, absolutely at a loss. It took everything in you not to burst into tears- he was definitely right. This was not a sight for just any human to see. He started to shift underneath your gaze, each movement triggering his wings to follow in a parallel movement. He looked uncomfortable. Gathering your composure, you rose to your feet. It was just Cas, the same Cas you’ve known all along. As nervous as his wings made you feel, you knew he was just as nervous, so you pushed yourself to help him feel at ease. 
“Okay. How do you want me to do this?”
“You can touch them. See if you notice anything that doesn’t look like it should be there.” 
Touch them. Just the thought sent another jolt of electricity through your body. Touching Cas’s wings? He was asking you to touch his wings. There was no stopping the thoughts racing into your mind- How would they feel? How would it make Cas feel? How would it make you feel?
Pushing the worries aside, you crossed over to Cas. Mid-step, your gaze grabbed on to the angel’s and wouldn’t let go. As you inched closer, you were less and less inclined to look away. Because once you did, you knew you would be face to face in the task at hand.
It’s not that you didn’t want to look at Cas’s wings. They were the most beautiful, ethereal things you had ever seen. They just made you so nervous. For the first time since knowing Cas, it truly registered to you- he was an angel, a heavenly creature, so powerful and beautiful that even this small glimpse of his true form had you weak in the knees. But beyond being just an angel, he was a teammate, a friend, and to you, something far more. All you wanted to do was take his pain away.
Finally, your eyes were forced to stray from the angel’s as your feet led you behind him, ducking under his left wing and settling yourself square between them. There was a physical sensation radiating off of them- a warm, low buzz that made your whole body tingle. 
“One more thing.” Cas’s voice stepped in to break what felt like an age-long silence. 
“Yes?” You whispered.
“It will be a bit… sensitive. Please be gentle.” 
“Of course, Cas.” 
And so you were. With the softest touch you could muster up, you reached out and made contact with his right wing, settling your fingers amongst the feathers. You felt Cas’s body shudder underneath your touch, but his low voice mumbled that all was well, to carry on. So you did.
For nearly thirty minutes, your fingers worked through the wings. Touching them was like weaving your hands through silk, sifting through layer upon layer. The feathers were so light and delicate that they almost felt like nothing at all, and the way they kissed your skin was without a doubt the most beautiful sensation you had ever experienced.
Your hands zoned into their task, sifting through the wings to remove all of the debris leftover from the day’s hunt. Cas spoke to you as you worked, teaching you about their anatomy, their capabilities, and everything else. You listened intently, fascinated by this intimate insight, but you weren’t sure if he was speaking with the pure intention of teaching you or simply to distract himself from the feeling of what was going on behind him. Every so often, his voice wavered or his back pulled away, and in response, you would stall your hands, giving him a moment to adjust. 
The process was long and tedious, but you took the liberty of enjoying every second of it. Watching the ripple of the feathers beneath your fingers, the way your hands seemed to disappear as they bobbed in and out, eventually you dropped the last piece of shrapnel into the empty box you had been using to collect it all. 
“There. All done. Is that… any better?” 
Cas didn’t vocalize a response, but your question was answered when his entire form shone with the familiar blue glow of his grace. And when the glow subsided, his wings were tucked away yet again, leaving behind his unadorned trenchcoated vessel. He turned to you with a face of gentle features. 
“Thank you,” was all he could express in his low timbre. It seemed as though every trace of worry had melted away, and everything about Cas’s presence had softened. But if you hadn’t been completely sure of his newfound comfort and ease, the angel confirmed it when he took a long stride closer, halving the distance that had served as the buffer between you.
“Thank you for trusting me to do that,” you breathed through a slight daze, both lingering from the experience and sparked anew from his rapidly increasing proximity. 
“There is no one else I trust as much as you.” Now he was merely inches away, hovering closer to you than he ever had been before. Here you froze, both sinking into the feeling, until the magnetism that emanated off of him grew to be too much. Just as you took the leap of faith to close the gap, you were interrupted by the crash of the front door flying open. You jerked backwards on instinct, reinstating the safe buffer space. 
In strode Sam and Dean, oblivious as ever. Stopped just inside the doorframe, and in complete unison, the brothers tilted their heads in confusion.
Gesturing between the two of you, Dean spoke. “Hey. We interrupting something?”
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missblissy · 7 months
Note
Can you write an Alastor x reader where the reader tries to save him from Adam but ends up badly injured?
((Ofc course nonny! I apologize if I’m a little rusty and this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but!! I did get inspired by the last episode and decided to rewrite the scene with reader there too :’) I hope you enjoy!! This is more of a platonic stage of a relationship with Alastor, something where he cares for reader but not like… ya know… together yet 😂))
You already knew the plan, you knew your place in it, that being down on the ground with all your friends. In front of the hotel you stood, not far from the others. While Charlie and Vaggie watched with wide eyes, you felt a sliver of dread work its way into your mind. The shield that Alastor had created was holding… for now.
And you could see far above like a speck of glowing sand, Adam and his bright wings keeping him afloat. The sliver of dread was momentarily replaced with rage, anger, and possibly hatred. You had to shake it away though, as within a moment's notice Adam broke down the shield and the dread returned.
It wasn’t long before angels came flying down once again, with a newfound fury to destroy the demons who dared to stand against them. Luckily you at least knew a thing or two about dodging and weaving. Spending time in hell taught you enough to throw a few kicks, with the stab of an angelic weapon given to you before the battle.
You’d manage to take down a few angels, all while still keeping a seething eye on Adam. The closer he got to the hotel the more panic you felt, and more so for selfish reasons rather than selfless ones. And with Alastor’s shield down it was only a matter of time before the table would start turning. Purely out of your own instincts you turn tail from the battle out front and start racing up the hotel.
There were angels already swarming in like flies, and you did your best to avoid them. Despite that, one still caught you off guard and managed to slam you to the ground. A struggle ensued, wrestling on the ground with this vile heathen, to you at least.You’d let out a yelp and wriggle, arms flying and nails clawing into holy skin. With you elbow you jammed it into the angel’s face over and over until you could reach you weapon and go for their throat.
The bright glowing blood splashed onto you, golden, while slick it escaped the angel and stole its life in the process. You shoved the lifeless body off you and stumbled further up the hotel. You could hear the battle above, while bits of rumble crumbled and flung to the ground. The building gave a shake and shudder strong enough for you to slip on a step and reach for the railings.
Your heart leapt into your throat and threatened to burst any second. The panic was a terrible and familiar feeling. It was hard to say, or even admit, but dammit you cared for that stupid bastard up there in a way. Alastor certainly couldn’t stand a chance against Adam, you didn’t believe a word of his boasting earlier. Claiming that he could single handedly take care of Adam and keep him distracted.
No sinner, not even the radio demon could do such a thing you believed. He’d been gone for so long as well, who’s to say he hasn’t gotten rusty? Alastor was cocky, and arrogant, yet still you were racing up floor after floor to aid him in battle.
The hotel shook again and you had to put your hands out to catch yourself in the fall. You still shimmered with holy blood as droplets fell from you while racing the last few steps. Another good shake and rumble had you rushing and stumbling out of the door onto the rooftop.
A panicked expression came on your face, witnessing what was before you. Though Alastor seemed fine, causal even with a simple smile, you saw Adam trying evade the dark tenacles that manifested to and fro around him. Adam may have had a sneer on his face but he let out a mocking laugh, “Ha! You think you’re tough shit don’t you?” His golden eyes met yours in that second, and you started to take a step forward.
Alastor hadn’t even noticed, he just smiled and took another swing at Adam, “Tougher than you~!” He grinned with a twisted laugh. While Adam took a few attempts at striking Alastor, lurching forward with his bass ax, Alastor was too caught in the battle to see the split second decision that you made.
You ran forward with all your might, weapon in hand and death in your eyes. You hoped that with your speed you’d have caught Adam off guard, but it wasn’t enough. You were able to cut the distance and jab the angelic weapon into Adam’s side but not without him reaching around and back handing you away. You landed with a thud on the ground several feet away, ready to get back up, but Adam was quick enough to kick away your only weapon.
His ax cut down quickly on one of your arms, leaving it hanging by a thread before he grabbed you by the throat and used you as some meat shield. Your own blood gushed like a sprinkler and began to pool. All while you let out a curdling cry in pain.
To say Alastor was anything but enraged that you managed to make it up there was a mistake. His smile was still there regardless. But he froze if only to listen to Adam bicker. With his hand around your throat, the air was running out quickly in your lungs while you did everything you could to kick your feet at him.
“Come on you edge lord freak! Not gonna fight now that I got this neat little trick?” Adam’s smug grin was enough to test Alastor’s patience and reasoning. The grip on your neck only got tighter. Wriggling there you could do nothing but listen and watch… in fear. As Alastor only grinned and took a swing at Adam, taking you by surprise as well. You were mere inches away from being scathed by one of the tentacles as Adam prepared to use you to block it, but instead he was attacked by another seconds sooner from behind.
But it was enough of a hit to knock you from his hands, and you thudded to the floor. The two of them were back in some kind of battle locked tango as Adam swung and swung his ax and only missed Alastor as he mocked him, “You lack discipline, control!” Alastor laughed, his voice ringing in and out of your ears as you tried to fight back the pain and blood loss, “And worse! You’re sloppy!”
You couldn’t see, let alone hear much more other than the battle going on… You just needed to rest… just for a second. The back and forth bickering between the other two went fuzzy, along with the rest of the battle going on around. That’s when you felt… something... At least try and attempt to pull you to safety. It was the wrapping of a long singular black tentacle curling around your ankle, one that was coming from the shadows and away from the fight.
Even still, above it all, the ringing of battle, the throbbing of pain, the muffled bickering. You could hear the distance snap then a visceral cry of equal pain from an all to familiar voice. Perhaps it was the last bits of adrenaline and endorphins. Or it was your continuing unrelenting nature to never do as told, and always do as you wish instead. Even if it was every instinct in your body telling you otherwise, your eye snapped open and through the blood you could see Alastor becoming a corner like a caged animal with a wound all his own.
Something primal in you awoke, something that wasn’t fueled by hatred or even really fear, but rather more of a rage induced panic for someone cared for. The burn was enough to push you to your feet, leaping with all your might towards Adam. You managed to tackle him down, using your only good arm to wrestle him to the ground, fighting over his ax, “You little shit!” He barked at you, “You just don’t know when to quit don’t you?!?”
It was Alastor’s turn to bleed and watch, and more helpless than ever before. His ego tore in two behind a smile while fighting the instinct to turn tail and save his own skin. Guaranteeing your death. Or, risk what little left he could do to save you. And even more infuriating, his deal wouldn’t allow him to do more than what he wanted.
He gritted his teeth and choked on blood. Alastor smirk only got more bitter as he chuckled to himself and muttered a curse, reminding himself to chew you out later if you both made it out alive.
While you struggled on the ground with Adam, while his fist greeted your face, jaw and throat a few times, you’d claw and bite at him with the same force. If Alastor was going to act, he needed to act now. So he got to his feet, holding his arm over his blood oozing wound. However, in the other hand shadows began to take form. He closed the distance and let out a mocking laugh, “Don’t forget about me!” His arms swung back over his head, “You aren’t the only one experienced with an ax!” Alastor cackled as the long broad long handle of a felling ax formed from the shadows.
Alastor chopped down with all his strength, eyes turning to dials, the large red X growing on his forehead. He flung the ax down with memories of dismembering bodies, however here he only managed to clip Adam’s wing, far from the glory days of his serial killings. But Alastor still had a skill or two left from then as he used the same motion to knock Adam back like a baseball player hitting a home run.
With a thud and a yell Adam cursed out, forced apart and bleeding from his wing he let you go in the tussle between him and Alastor. In that split second you felt a new pair of hands grab you from behind. Everything felt like it started moving in slow motion to you. The air felt thick, and shadows grew larger from every source. Alastor grabbed you with one arm, bleeding out as equally as you but still keeping you secure by his side, and using the other arm to throw the felling ax like a tomahawk, missing Adam by a hair.
Shadows started creeping in around you, misting and closing in on you. The last thing you saw was Adam’s shit eating grin before darkness enveloped you as you escaped with Alastor. Wind whirled around you but you couldn’t see it, only feel the cool icy bricks of the sharp currents. Lightless like a feather one moment, then the next you felt gravity slam you back into the ground.
The air was smacked out of your lungs, dropped onto the ground you let out a yelp as the world returned. Rubble and ruins surrounded you, dust fell and rocks shambled to the cold hard floor. This… must be the basement of the hotel… You thought. You could still hear the battle above.
But you couldn’t forget how you got here, and who brought you. Guilt washed over you quickly, you spun your head around and saw Alastor propping himself up against a crumbling wall. His ears pinned back, his smile all broken and shaky but still holding true… And some little shadow minion of his was shoving his guts back in his torso and stitching him closed.
That’s when you remembered your own wounds. Your arm… Quickly with fear you looked down and were surprised to find it also being tended to by a little shadow puppet. Which, honestly, you couldn’t feel anything from the shoulder down at this point. So pain or detecting someone pulling the sinews back together wasn’t going to be noticed anyways. At least your arm wasn’t a total loss.
Quickly though, you began frantically, apologizing, “Alastor-.. I am so sorry- I… I-” You felt like a fool, but you also felt a little angry, “I’m sorry!” You said again, “But why did you think you could take Adam on by himself!?” The little flair of anger was gone as soon as it came. Being replaced by guilt once more you hung your head and stared away from your own wounds, someplace random, and repeat, “I’m sorry,” You just didn’t want him to become a causality….
You kept muttering and mumbling away, you even felt tears ready to escape but the quick and short, “Stop,” From the other hushed you up quickly. Out of fear at first, you didn’t look up, but the slow troubled pattern of heels clicking towards you was enough to lift your tired eyes.
Still bloody but not bleeding, and with a limped pain in his step, Alastor approached you, his smile tired and barely hanging on. To your surprise, at first all he said was, “Are you alright?” As he knelt down and gestured to your arm. You were ready to be scolded, and even chewed up and split out… But all Alastor seemed to care about at this moment was if you’d live to another day.
The little shadow had nearly finished sewing you together like a broken doll, repaired and ready to play again. It disappeared once its task was done, and just to test its work, you moved your arm, rolled your wrist and waved your fingers, “I’ve been worse,” You told him with a huff, and a sheepish smile.
“Good,” Was all he said, which, you’d be lying if the empty look in his eyes and his hollow smile didn’t unsettle you to some degree. You didn’t have much of a chance to get a better look, as he stood up while brushing the debris and loose hair out of your face, “Go to the others,” He told you, “And tell them what happened…” His shoot started tapping further away again.
When you looked up again his back was to you. He reached down to his staff snapped in two, you couldn’t see his face but you heard the heavy sigh, “What about you?” You asked, he was still injured, he couldn’t possibly be going off for another fight…? Your nerves where settled only slightly as he reassured you, “I need to find something to fix this,” He gestured to the broken staff, “I believe there is something left in my radio tower,” He explained.
You slowly got to your feet, a sigh, a huff, then a nod of your head, “Okay,” You said. You watched for a second more, turning to leave but not taking a step, looking over your shoulder at him. A sullen moment broke into the air, an unfamiliar sorrow. And he stopped in his steps too. Mimicking your actions, looking back until your eyes met. He shared a smile, one at least more true and strong enough to spread on your lips. A second more was spent there, until more earth shattering rumbles began and the moment was broken. Separating you two once again, leading down different paths away from each other.
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tasha-tasha · 5 months
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'Will Graham wants peace and luxury' NOOOOOO
Saw something along these lines on Tumblr and I disagree HARD. It said something along the lines of: 'Will wants to be in comfort and luxury, he craves pamperment, and he wants to feel peace away from pain and discomfort' (We can all have our own headcanons, but this is mine and why I really do not agree).
Will claims he wants a peaceful life, but it isn't what he needs, it isn't what he craves.
Will was a police officer, he then went on to teach college students about how to identify victims, murders and motives. He then went on to work for the fucking FBI and lands himself at Hannibal Lecter's dinner table.
Will Graham is drawn to chaos, drawn to the grotesque and drawn to battle. He lives to suffer and watch others suffer. He revels in the morbid and the battle. His empathy has thrown him into the minds of the insane, and his battle is in accepting that he enjoys being them.
Will's acceptance, if he wished for peace, would end the moment he started a life with Molly. It would have ended the day Wally called him 'Dad'. But that is not what he truly needed, it was something he told himself he wanted. So the show continues.
Will's final development was him dragging Hannibal off the cliff with him. Will had finally given into his carnal nature, and he stood with Hannibal, in a moment of bliss and peace, as they looked at each other and knew that they brung out what society deemed their worst.
At a moment of peace and becoming, Will throws them both off a cliff and delves right back into the adrenaline and chaos of the fight. To perhaps kill both himself and Hannibal. To end his life in perfect chaos and discomfort, because he is addicted to it.
Hannibal lets him.
Will is not a 'housewife', nor a man who wishes to sit idly by and have Hannibal preen and pamper him. He doesn't want to live like Bedelia did and just accept Hannibal's darkness, and turn a blind eye to the disorder. He is not the type to lounge in the sun and sleep like a housecat.
He wants to be there. He wants that havoc, that madness, it is truly what he craves. If he was with Hannibal, even after acceptance, he would forcibly shove himself into it. They would never be safe, they would never be fully forgotten. Neither of them wants that. They enjoy the madness that comes with the vengeful and carnal.
Will is more wild animal than pet, and Hannibal slowly begins to treat him as a part of himself, rather than a plaything.
Will stops looking for Hannibal when he stops running. I don't think it's out of comfort or safety. I think Will stops chasing because there's no longer any prey to chase. So instead, he chases what he thought he wanted, chases a family and a lover; convinces himself he is comfortable in normality.
As soon as Jack returns, as soon as Hannibal re-enters his life; he practically forgets they exist. We barely see Molly for the last few episodes, because Will is not thinking of them. Will no longer puts in the effort with chasing that ideal family, because his lust for war and pain is so much greater.
Will does not want to be comfortable or at peace. Will is happiest in constant battle.
Of course, there is more to this, I'd love to do a deeper dive one day.
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alilixx · 2 months
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James Wilson x Fem!Cardiologist Reader
Heartbeats and Invisible Connections
Nothing to say so i hope you will like it! Btw i just rewatch The devil wears Prada and i love smmm MIRANDA??? I mean, i will write on her soon (i will never abandon House md, everything for my girls!
Warning: Mature, NSFW, Some Dark!Wilson, death, House being House.
Pairing: James Wilson x Fem!Cardiologist Reader
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Laughter could be heard in the hospital room, just like every day. The young boy in front of you was in tears from laughing so hard at the TV, and you were just as amused as he was. After all, you were watching The Powerpuff Girls! You knew it was his favorite cartoon, so you watched every new episode with him. Even though Cuddy wasn't too thrilled about it, you spent at least two hours a day with the young patient. Blake was a five-year-old child suffering from an incurable heart condition. A malformation took up too much space, hindering the development of his lungs. The chance of survival after surgery was minimal, so you couldn't offer it.
Blake had been entrusted to you two years ago, when his mother passed away from pancreatic cancer. His father, a very busy businessman, gradually stopped coming to visit. At first, he would come occasionally, but soon he no longer found the time to visit his own son, citing a busy schedule. You tried to understand, but deep down, you couldn't accept this prolonged absence. How could someone leave their child to face such a serious illness without parental support?
You then promised yourself that you would never let Blake feel abandoned. You became more than a doctor to him; you were his guardian, his pillar, the only constant in his turbulent life. The first few months were difficult. How do you explain to a three-year-old that his father was abandoning him? It was almost impossible. Blake often cried, asking why his father no longer came. Your heart broke every time, but you found the words to comfort him, inventing stories about heroes and adventures to give him hope and joy.
Over time, you established a routine. You came by every morning to gently wake him up, often with a special breakfast you brought from home. You shared these simple but precious moments before starting the long days of tests and treatments. Blake loved The Powerpuff Girls, and you quickly adopted the habit of watching the episodes with him. It was a comforting ritual, a bubble of happiness in an often dark daily life.
With every operation, every scan, every MRI, you were there. You held his hand, reassured him, promised him that everything would be okay. Even though you knew the chances were slim, you always kept hope. Blake had become like a little brother to you. You admired his courage, his ability to smile despite everything. His resilience gave you the strength to carry on, even when the weight of reality seemed too heavy to bear.
The other doctors and nurses respected your dedication, though some whispered that you were getting too emotionally involved. But how could you not? How could you remain detached when a child depended on you for everything, when he called for a hug in the middle of the night after a nightmare, when he proudly showed you his drawings and asked for your opinion? Blake needed you, and you were ready to do anything for him.
One morning, as you were preparing Blake for yet another round of tests, you found yourself thinking about the future. What would become of Blake if... No, you couldn't think that way. You shook yourself mentally and focused on the present. Today, he would watch a new episode of The Powerpuff Girls, and you would be there by his side to share his laughter and tears. You owed him that much.
Every day was a battle, but also a victory, no matter how small. And you would continue to fight for Blake because he deserved it, because he was more than just a patient—he was a part of you.
Of course, he cost you a snack every day because the young boy had a sweet tooth. Several chocolate bars, whether caramel, coconut, or other flavors, you knew he would eat them. You ate together to keep him company; eating alone as a child in the hospital wasn't easy.
Months passed, and you noticed that Blake seemed more tired than usual. He had started to complain about unusual pains, and you noted a worrying pallor on his face. Your medical instinct pushed you to look deeper, to understand what was wrong. After a series of initial tests, you still couldn't determine the exact cause of his symptoms. One night, as Blake slept peacefully after an exhausting day, you found yourself in your office, immersed in his medical files.
It was then that you decided to consult James Wilson, the head of oncology at the hospital. You knew his reputation and expertise because you had risen through the ranks together, and you knew he would be the best person to help you understand what was happening to Blake. You occasionally saw him during department head meetings at the hospital.
The next morning, after preparing Blake for his routine tests, you headed to Wilson's office. As you knocked on the door, you felt both anxious and determined. Wilson looked up from his papers and greeted you with a warm smile.
"Good morning, Dr. [Y/N]. What can I do for you?" he asked, gesturing for you to sit.
"Good morning, Dr. Wilson. I need your expertise. One of my patients, Blake, is exhibiting some troubling symptoms, and I can't identify the exact cause. I'm afraid it might be something serious."
Wilson nodded, his expression becoming more serious. "Alright, tell me more about his symptoms and show me his files."
You spent the next thirty minutes detailing Blake's condition, his medical history, and the results of recent tests. Wilson listened attentively, asking pertinent questions and taking down important notes.
"I'll need to examine Blake myself and perhaps order a few additional tests," he said finally. "What you're describing could be several things, but I want to be sure before drawing any conclusions."
You nodded, grateful for his help. "Thank you, Dr. Wilson. I just want to make sure we're doing everything we can for him."
Later in the day, Wilson joined Blake in his room. With your reassuring presence by his side, Blake showed courage and cooperated during the additional examinations. The following days were filled with tests and anxious waiting.
Finally, the results came in. The diagnosis was devastating: Blake had developed heart cancer, a rare but possible complication of his pre-existing heart condition. The news hit you like a punch, but you knew you had to stay strong for Blake.
You turned to Wilson, feeling the weight of this news. "What do we do now?" you asked, determined not to give up.
"We're going to fight," he replied calmly. "I'll work with you and the team to develop a treatment plan. Blake is an incredibly brave little boy, and he deserves all our efforts."
You simply nodded before returning to his room, holding his hand while you sat beside his bed. He slept peacefully, and you rested your head on his arm. The past few days had been complicated due to the stress. Cuddy had quickly stopped by after hearing the news from Wilson. She looked at you through the window before leaving a few minutes later.
The following days were even harder. Should you tell him? Explain that he would die sooner? Leave him in denial? These choices were impossible to make, but your routine didn't change. He shouldn't know until you made a decision.
Unfortunately, today was a night shift for you. You returned to your office, lingering over Blake's adoption file, but decided to leave to avoid sinking even further. Hours passed, and you could finally take your break, which you obviously spent with Blake. Without realizing it, a single tear fell down your cheek. Just one. But in that tear lay all the pain contained for days.
This tear was wiped away by the only man who could understand your suffering. James.
"Cry, Dr. [Y/N]. Now that I’m here with you, you’re free to reveal your sadness," he said softly, his comforting hand resting on your shoulder.
Those words, full of compassion and understanding, broke down the last barriers you had built to contain your pain. You finally let out the tears you had been holding back for so long. James stayed by your side, offering his silent but powerful support. You shared a moment of raw humanity, where the roles of doctors faded away, giving way to those of human beings facing suffering and uncertainty.
After a long while, you pulled yourself together, taking a deep breath. "Thank you, James. I needed that."
"We're all in this fight together," he replied with a comforting smile. "And we will do everything for Blake."
Your next destination was Cuddy's office. You took a moment before opening the door, and when you opened and closed it behind you, your words came out in a rush.
"I'm giving up on Blake's adoption file."
She looked up from her computer and simply nodded. She knew the file wouldn't be accepted; she just wanted you to make that decision yourself. You had worked with her for about ten years, so yes, she knew how you operated. After that, interactions with Cuddy became less frequent. It wasn't her fault, but her office reminded you too much of the premature death that Blake was going to face.
You saw James often enough to discuss Blake's case. Sometimes, he even joined you for lunch. You found this rather pleasant. James had a unique way of making Blake smile, even in the most difficult moments. His anecdotes, subtle humor, and reassuring presence provided a certain comfort that you couldn't deny.
One day, after sharing a meal with Blake and James, you found yourself feeling a bit lighter, almost optimistic. The bond developing between you and James was a valuable support. You spent hours discussing treatment options, analyzing test results, and exploring every possibility to give Blake a chance to pull through.
Despite the grim diagnosis, every little progress, every smile from Blake, and every moment shared with James gave you the strength to continue.
One evening, as you were finishing your rounds, James joined you in the hallway. "I wanted to thank you," he said, his eyes filled with sincerity. "For everything you do for Blake, and for allowing someone like me to be a part of this fight."
You smiled, touched by his words but still mindful of his reputation as a flirt. "I should be the one thanking you. Your presence makes a huge difference, not only for Blake but also for me."
He looked at you with an intensity that made your heart beat a little faster. "You don't have to carry all of this alone. We're a team, remember."
Months passed, and despite all the efforts by you, James, and the medical team, Blake's condition continued to deteriorate. Each day, you saw his smile become a bit more fragile, his voice a bit weaker, but his will to live remained astonishingly strong. The relationship between you and James grew stronger, and he became one of the most important people to you during this dark period. You spent more and more time together, sharing the sorrows and the rare moments of joy.
Blake continued to laugh at his favorite Powerpuff Girls, devouring the chocolate bars you brought him each day. James often joined your small meals, bringing with him a comforting presence and a quiet strength that helped you hold on.
Despite all attempts at treatment, Blake's heart cancer was too advanced. The discussions with James grew more serious, more somber, as options dwindled. You had tried to protect Blake from the gravity of his situation, but he wasn't fooled. One day, as you were watching an episode of his favorite cartoon, he took your hand and asked in a soft but determined voice:
"Am I going to die, Y/N?"
The shock of his words left you speechless for a moment. You exchanged a glance with James, who stood silently beside you. Finally, you took a deep breath and answered with heartfelt sincerity:
"We are doing everything we can to keep you healthy, Blake. But yes, your illness is very serious."
Blake nodded, seeming to accept this reality with a surprising maturity for his age. "Thank you for telling me. I'm glad you're both here."
The following weeks were marked by a melancholic tenderness. You did everything possible to make Blake's last days as happy and comfortable as possible. Laughter was mingled with tears, each moment becoming precious and fleeting.
Then, one morning, as you arrived at the hospital, you felt a heaviness in the air. Entering Blake's room, you found James already there, sitting by the bed, holding Blake's hand. The little boy was sleeping peacefully, an unusual serenity on his face.
"He's gone," James murmured, tears in his eyes. "He fell asleep without pain."
You felt overwhelmed by a wave of sadness, but also relief. Blake no longer had to suffer. You sat on the other side of the bed, taking his small, cold hand in yours. Tears flowed freely down your cheeks.
"We did everything we could," James said softly. "And he knew he was loved until the end."
These words brought some comfort. Blake had been surrounded by the love and dedication of those who cared most for him. You spent a long time by his side, with James, mourning the loss of the brave little boy but also celebrating the life he had, no matter how short.
The days that followed were filled with mourning and memories. James’s presence beside you was invaluable, and together, you found the strength to say goodbye to Blake and to move forward, despite the pain.
Blake had been more than just a patient. And even though he was no longer here, his memory would continue to live on in you, constantly reminding you why you became a cardiologist, though your mental health did not improve despite your attempts at positivity.
After all this, you barely left the hospital. You hardly slept anymore. Running on energy drinks and coffee, your heart grew increasingly fragile. You no longer took much care of yourself, doing just enough to survive and continue your work. The loss of Blake, whom you considered your little brother, was a gaping wound. Although you knew it was better for him, you couldn’t accept the truth. Years of fighting for this, only for him to ultimately succumb to cancer, made you feel nauseous.
One evening, as you were changing in the locker room, you heard footsteps approaching. James approached you gently, causing you to flinch slightly. You were still lost in your thoughts, pondering a solution that had eluded you, a miracle that had never come.
"Y/N," he began softly, his voice full of compassion. "It's not your fault. Life is sometimes unfair, but he's better off where he is. It's hard, and I understand, but take care of yourself as Blake would have wanted. I'm not telling you to live the life he should have had, but not to destroy yourself in an 'honor' to him."
His words, though well-intentioned, hit you like a slap. "Don’t tell me how I should feel!" you retorted sharply, anger and pain mingling in your voice. But seeing the sadness and understanding in James’s eyes, you realized you had reacted too abruptly. "I’m sorry, James. I know you’re trying to help."
James shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. "You don’t have to apologize. I know how hard it is. But you can’t keep going like this; you’re going to destroy yourself."
What you didn’t know was that Cuddy was behind it all. She was deeply concerned for you. Unable to bear seeing her head of service fall apart, she had asked James to look out for you, even if it meant spending more time at your place or inviting you to stay at his.
In the following days, James increased his presence. He regularly came to see you, encouraging you to talk about how you were feeling. One evening, after a particularly grueling day, he invited you to dinner at his place. You accepted, too exhausted to refuse.
At James’s home, the atmosphere was soothing. The simplicity of his apartment and the warmth of his welcome all helped you feel a bit better. You spent the evening talking, not about work or Blake, but about everything and nothing—childhood memories, dreams, passions.
"You know," James said at one point, setting down his coffee cup, "Cuddy asked me to look out for you. She’s worried about you, just like I am. You’re important to us, to the hospital. But more than that, you’re important to yourself. Blake wouldn’t want to see you destroy yourself like this."
These words touched you deeply. The harsh reality of your situation, combined with the immense fatigue you felt, began to crumble under the warmth of James’s compassion and support.
"I know it’s hard to hear this now," he continued, "but you need time to heal. And you don’t have to do it alone."
Tears began to silently stream down your cheeks. For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to feel the pain, without pushing it away, without hardening yourself. James approached and gently embraced you, letting you cry against him.
"I'm here," he murmured. "We’re here for you."
In the following days, you began to accept James’s help. He would join you for long walks after work, make sure you ate properly and got some rest. You knew the road to healing would be long, but with James by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope begin to emerge.
Seeing that you were improving, Cuddy called you into her office one day. "I’m proud of you," she said simply. "And I know Blake would be too."
You smiled, feeling a newfound strength within you. "Thank you, Cuddy. For everything."
One of the long evenings at James's place, you sat side by side on the couch. Exhausted from the emotions and work, you couldn’t help but let your head fall onto James's shoulder. "What movie do you want to watch?" he asked, not realizing that you had already dozed off. He looked at you tenderly before taking your hand and gently stroking it. James was aware that the role of a cardiologist was demanding; you often worked with children for diagnoses, and he knew it was exhausting and that you slept little.
Gently, he slipped one hand behind your back and the other under your knees. Carefully standing up, he cradled your light body in his arms and carried you to his bedroom, where he laid you down on the bed with great care. You had already fallen deeply asleep and were unaware of the situation. James tenderly stroked your cheek, once again gazing at your face.
"Rest well, Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You’ve given so much for Blake. Let me take care of you now."
He adjusted the blanket over you, ensuring you were snug and warm. Then he quietly withdrew, making sure not to make any noise. As he closed the door, he cast a final glance to ensure you were sleeping peacefully.
James settled on the couch with a book, but his mind was elsewhere. He thought about you, your strength and pain, and how much he wanted to help you through this tough time. Hours passed, and eventually, exhausted himself, he fell asleep.
In the morning, you woke up in a room you didn't immediately recognize. The events of the previous evening slowly came back to you. You remembered being at James’s place, having fallen asleep on the couch… and now you were in his bed. A feeling of warmth and security enveloped you.
Hearing your movements, James got up and came to join you. "Good morning," he said with a gentle smile. "I hope you slept well."
You nodded, touched by his care. "Thank you, James. For everything."
“There’s no need to thank me. You need rest, and I’m here to help,” he said sincerely. “Now, let’s have a nice breakfast. It’s time to take care of yourself.”
You sat down at the table, noticing pancakes and fruits you loved. The sight of the carefully prepared food comforted you, and you began to eat with appetite. What you didn’t know was that Wilson had added nicotine to your drink. His goal? To make your brain associate the pleasure and dependence on nicotine with his own presence, creating a subtle and gradual addiction to him.
You took a sip of your drink, savoring its taste. Quickly, a sense of relaxation washed over you, soothing your tense nerves. You felt strangely good, almost euphoric. The food, the coffee, the reassuring presence of James… everything seemed perfect.
“These pancakes are delicious,” you said with a smile. “Did you really take the time to make all this?”
James nodded, his gaze full of tenderness. “I wanted you to start the day on a positive note. You deserve to feel good, Y/N.”
You continued eating, feeling better and better with each bite and sip. The nicotine was working its magic, reinforcing the positive association with James. You felt closer to him, more dependent on his comforting presence.
James, discreetly observing your reactions, saw that his plan was working. He knew you were vulnerable, and he wanted to be the one to support you, the one you would need. He wanted you, just for himself.
As the days went by, a routine settled in. James often prepared meals for you, inviting you to share these moments of respite and comfort. Every meal you had together seemed to give you renewed energy and strength. What you didn’t know was that James continued to add nicotine to your drinks, subtly increasing your dependency.
“There’s no need to thank me. You need rest, and I’m here to help,” he said sincerely. “Now, let’s have a nice breakfast. It’s time to take care of yourself.”
You sat down at the table, noticing pancakes and fruits you loved. The sight of the carefully prepared food comforted you, and you began to eat with appetite. What you didn’t know was that Wilson had added nicotine to your drink. His goal? To make your brain associate the pleasure and dependence on nicotine with his own presence, creating a subtle and gradual addiction to him.
You took a sip of your drink, savoring its taste. Quickly, a sense of relaxation washed over you, soothing your tense nerves. You felt strangely good, almost euphoric. The food, the coffee, the reassuring presence of James… everything seemed perfect.
“These pancakes are delicious,” you said with a smile. “Did you really take the time to make all this?”
James nodded, his gaze full of tenderness. “I wanted you to start the day on a positive note. You deserve to feel good, Y/N.”
You continued eating, feeling better and better with each bite and sip. The nicotine was working its magic, reinforcing the positive association with James. You felt closer to him, more dependent on his comforting presence.
James, discreetly observing your reactions, saw that his plan was working. He knew you were vulnerable, and he wanted to be the one to support you, the one you would need. He wanted you, just for himself.
As the days went by, a routine settled in. James often prepared meals for you, inviting you to share these moments of respite and comfort. Every meal you had together seemed to give you renewed energy and strength. What you didn’t know was that James continued to add nicotine to your drinks, subtly increasing your dependency.
Sitting at the table, you took a sip of your drink, immediately feeling a sense of well-being wash over you. James watched you discreetly, satisfied to see that his plan was working. You felt better, calmer, and most importantly, you felt dependent on these shared moments with him.
Days turned into weeks, and your dependence on James became increasingly evident. He had become your anchor, your refuge. You could no longer imagine going a day without seeing him, without feeling the sense of well-being he provided. The nicotine had done its job, but it was James's love and attention that had truly made you addicted.
Seeing that his plan was working perfectly, James decided to reinforce your dependence even further. One evening, after a particularly pleasant dinner, he suggested that you stay at his place for the night. You accepted without hesitation, feeling safe with him. While you slept, he discreetly installed surveillance apps on your phone and computer, allowing him to track your movements and communications.
The next morning, you woke up feeling refreshed, completely unaware of the ongoing manipulations. James greeted you with a smile as you emerged from sleep. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, thank you," you replied with a smile. "I feel much better."
"I'm glad to hear that," he said, handing you a cup of coffee. "Let's start the day on a positive note."
With James by your side, you began to slowly rebuild your life, unaware of the subtle manipulation that had facilitated this dependence. To you, James had become indispensable, the pillar you could always count on, and you had no idea of the shadow of his plan that loomed over your relationship.
Months had passed since Blake's loss, and your relationship with James Wilson had evolved remarkably, even if it was partly due to manipulation.
One evening, after a particularly challenging day at the hospital, you found yourself at James's place once again. You had developed a sort of ritual: after work, you would go to his home for dinner, conversation, and much-needed respite during this tumultuous period of your life. That night, the atmosphere was especially soothing. The dim light in the living room, the whisper of the wind through the open windows, and the comforting warmth of James's home created an ambiance conducive to deeper confessions.
As you sat on the couch with a glass of wine in hand, the conversation drifted to more personal topics. You found yourself sharing stories and thoughts that you had never dared to confide in anyone else.
"You know, James, I don't think I could have gone through all this without you," you said softly, looking at your glass as if searching for answers. "You've become an essential part of my life, and I can't imagine moving forward without you."
James looked at you with a tenderness you had never truly noticed before. "Y/N, you are incredibly strong. But even the strongest among us need support. And I am so glad I can be here for you."
He set down his glass and took your hand in his, a comforting gesture that sent a wave of warmth through your body. "We've been through so much together, and I believe it has brought us closer in ways neither of us could have predicted."
The silence that followed was charged with emotion. You turned slightly toward him, searching in his eyes for confirmation of what you were feeling. And in his eyes, you saw the same spark, the same depth of feeling that burned within you.
"James…" you began, but words failed you. He seemed to understand, as he gently leaned in, closing the distance between your faces.
"Y/N, I think what we have goes beyond friendship or mere professional support. I've grown attached to you in a way I never thought possible."
His words resonated within you, and before you could respond, he leaned even closer and delicately pressed his lips to yours. It was a tender kiss, filled with all the unspoken emotions, all the shared moments, all the mingled pain and comfort.
The kiss lingered, your hands naturally finding their way into each other’s hair, and for the first time in a long while, you felt whole. When you finally separated, your breaths were staggered, but your eyes shone with the same emotion.
“I love you, Y/N,” James murmured, his eyes locked onto yours.
“I love you too, James,” you replied without hesitation, feeling a certainty you had never felt before.
You spent the evening talking about your feelings, your fears, and your hopes for the future. You fell asleep in each other's arms, finally finding peace in each other's presence.
The days that followed were marked by a new dynamic between you. At the hospital, you continued to work as professionals, but the exchanged glances, shared smiles, and subtle touches spoke of a blossoming love. The support you had always shared became even stronger, solidified by the intimate relationship you now had.
James continued to keep a close watch on you, ensuring that you were taking care of yourself. And you, although you were still unaware of some of his past manipulations, felt increasingly grounded in this new life. Meals together, evenings spent talking and watching movies, and shared nights became precious moments where you finally felt loved and understood.
However, it was impossible to completely avoid Gregory House’s sharp gaze. Nothing escaped the doctor renowned for his keen insight, and he had quickly noticed the changes in the relationship between you and James.
One afternoon, while you were in the break room, House hobbled in with his characteristic cane, a curious and mocking glint in his eyes. He settled heavily onto the couch across from you, fixing you with an enigmatic smile.
“So, Y/N, I’ve heard that Wilson has become your knight in shining armor,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You blushed slightly, but you didn’t let House intimidate you. “Yes, you could say that,” you replied calmly.
House nodded, a sneaky smile on his lips. “Interesting. But tell me, do you really know everything about your valiant knight? Because, you know, Wilson has always had a knack for hiding his little manipulations.”
You frowned, feeling a twinge of concern. “What are you trying to say, House?”
He shrugged, feigning innocence. “Oh, nothing specific. Just an observation. Be careful, that’s all. Wilson has a dark side, and sometimes he thinks his actions are justified by noble intentions.”
Before you could respond, James entered the room, a defiant expression on his face. “House, maybe you could find someone else to annoy,” he said tersely, positioning himself protectively between you and House.
House raised his hands in surrender, but his sneaky smile didn’t fade. “Alright, alright. I’m leaving. But remember, secrets have a way of surfacing.”
He left the room, leaving you with a sense of unease. James turned to you, his eyes softened with concern. “Don’t let him get to you, Y/N. House likes to sow doubt. We know how we feel about each other, and that’s all that matters.”
You nodded, trying to shake off the doubts sown by House. “You’re right, James. We know what we have.”
Weeks passed, and although House never missed an opportunity to make a pointed comment or cryptic remark, your relationship with James continued to grow stronger. You found comfort in each other, and despite the shadows of the past and James's subtle manipulations, you felt increasingly rooted in this new life.
The moments you shared had become anchors in your daily routine. Whether it was having lunch together, sharing laughter during quiet moments, or finding solace in each other's arms after exhausting days, every instant deepened the bond between you.
And so, despite House’s warnings and the shadows of the past, you found a new reason to live and smile every day. It was quite common for you to dream of James, Blake, and yourself as a family. You promised yourself to nurture your relationship with James for Blake, for the family that should have been.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
The sun was barely rising, its first rays filtering through the curtains in James's bedroom. You opened your eyes, feeling the comforting warmth of James's body against yours. He was still asleep, his face relaxed and free from worries and House. You took a moment to watch him, letting a sense of happiness wash over you.
You got up gently so as not to wake him, slipping into one of his oversized t-shirts, and headed to the kitchen. Preparing breakfast had become a sort of ritual. You set water to boil for coffee and began making pancakes, a specialty you had perfected for James. Adding fresh fruit and maple syrup was your way of starting the day on a positive note.
James arrived shortly afterward, drawn by the delicious aromas filling the kitchen. He came up to you, kissed your cheek softly, and murmured a sleepy "good morning."
"Good morning to you," you replied with a smile. "Breakfast is almost ready."
You sat down at the table, enjoying the pancakes and discussing plans for the day. The subject of Blake rarely came up in your conversations, to avoid a constant reminder of the promise you had made to cherish this relationship.
After breakfast, you both got ready to head to the hospital. The drive to Princeton-Plainsboro had become a well-practiced routine, and even though the trip was short, it was filled with discussions and exchanged smiles. At the hospital, you parted ways to join your respective departments, but not without a final quick kiss and a knowing look.
The morning was as busy as ever. Between consultations, diagnostics, and meetings, you threw yourself into your work with the same passion that had driven you since the beginning of your career.
At lunchtime, you met up with James in the cafeteria. House made his usual appearance, throwing out some sarcastic remarks that made everyone smile. Despite his sharp attitude, there was an unspoken respect and camaraderie in his interactions.
“So, lovebirds, how’s the couple life?” House asked, a smirk on his face.
James responded with a similarly playful smile. “Better than your social life, House.”
Exchanges with House had become an integral part of your daily routine, a kind of game to which you had now grown accustomed. After lunch, you returned to your department, your mind still partly occupied by James’s reassuring presence.
The afternoon flew by, marked by consultations and surgeries. But whenever you had a moment of respite, you couldn’t help but think about the promise you had made for Blake.
By the end of the day, exhausted but happy, you met James at the hospital exit. You went home together, discussing the events of the day and sharing your thoughts. Once home, the evening ritual began: a simple yet delicious dinner prepared together, followed by a few hours of relaxation in front of a movie or a series.
That evening, as you sat side by side on the couch, you snuggled up against him, feeling his arm close around your shoulders. The day had been long and tiring, but it ended on a note of tenderness and intimacy.
“You know, James, sometimes I think about what Blake would have wanted for us,” you murmured, your eyes fixed on the TV screen.
James tightened his embrace a little, his soft voice responding to your murmur. “He would have wanted us to be happy, Y/N. And I believe he’s watching over us, wherever he is.”
The following weeks were marked by camaraderie and teasing between you and James. Your relationship evolved gently, blending tenderness and playfulness, turning each day into a shared adventure. Beyond the consultations and emergencies, there were these stolen moments where you teased each other, making daily life at the hospital much brighter.
Each morning, your drives to the hospital were filled with little jokes and lively discussions. James particularly enjoyed teasing you about your music choices, and you retaliated by commenting on his sometimes overly bold ties. These light-hearted exchanges allowed you to start the day with a smile.
At the hospital, you found moments to reconnect, whether it was for a quick coffee between consultations or to share an impromptu lunch in a quiet corner of the cafeteria. The exchanged glances, knowing smiles, and discreet yet meaningful touches all reinforced your connection.
House, of course, never missed an opportunity to tease you both gently. One day, while you were having lunch together, he approached with a sly smile on his face.
“So, you two, still playing cat and mouse?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“We prefer to call it chemistry,” you replied with a wink at James.
House raised an eyebrow, amused. “Chemistry, huh? Just be careful not to blow anything up like like Wilson and cheating.”
The following weeks were filled with camaraderie and playful teasing between you and James. Your relationship evolved slowly, mixing tenderness and playfulness, turning each day into a shared adventure. Beyond consultations and emergencies, there were these stolen moments where you teased each other, making daily life at the hospital much brighter.
Each morning, your drives to the hospital were punctuated with little jokes and lively discussions. James particularly enjoyed teasing you about your music choices, and you retaliated by commenting on his sometimes overly bold ties. These light-hearted exchanges allowed you to start the day with a smile.
At the hospital, you found moments to reconnect, whether for a quick coffee between consultations or to share an impromptu lunch in a quiet corner of the cafeteria. The exchanged glances, knowing smiles, and discreet yet meaningful touches all reinforced your connection.
One day, you decided to play a bit more daringly. Having discovered that James had a weakness for chocolate, you prepared a little surprise. You had found some special chocolates infused with aphrodisiac ingredients, and you were curious to see how he would react.
You waited for the right moment, choosing a day when you both had some free time. After lunch, you invited him to stop by your office for a sweet little break.
"I have a surprise for you," you announced, pulling a box of chocolates from your drawer.
James raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A surprise, huh? I like surprises."
You handed him a chocolate with a mischievous smile. "Try this and tell me what you think."
He took the chocolate, looking curious, and put it in his mouth. From the first bite, you saw his expression change slightly, a glimmer of surprise passing through his eyes.
"It's… interesting," he said as he finished the chocolate. "There's something different about it."
You just smiled, holding back your little secret. A few minutes later, you noticed a subtle change in his behavior. His eyes grew darker, his posture more assured.
"Y/N," he said in a deeper voice, moving closer to you. "What did you give me?"
You laughed softly, taking a small step back. "Just a bit of chocolate. Why? Didn't you like it?"
He stared at you intensely, a half-smile on his lips. "Oh, I loved it. But I think you knew exactly what you were doing."
Before you could respond, he pulled you by the waist and drew you close. His burning gaze never left yours, and you felt your heart race. The weeks of teasing and flirting had led to this moment.
"James, we're in the hospital," you whispered, trying to maintain some semblance of control.
"I know," he replied, his voice husky. "But I can't wait any longer."
He kissed you with a new intensity, his hands exploring your back with a possessiveness that made you shiver. You let yourself sink into him, your own desires taking over. The door to his office closed behind you, isolating your little world from the rest of the hospital.
James lifted you and placed you on his desk, his lips never leaving yours. Papers and pens fell to the floor, forgotten. His hands slipped under your blouse, and you felt a shiver of pleasure course through your body.
"You've driven me crazy, Y/N," he murmured against your skin. "And now, you'll face the consequences."
He kissed you briefly, and you wanted more. You opened your mouth, and your tongues met. You felt his hands grip your hips and shift your body on the desk, pulling you closer to him. His tongue explored your mouth as if he, too, enjoyed the blend. He pulled away slightly and looked down at your outfit, which revealed your hardened nipples, due to the passionate kiss and the moisture that had dampened your clothing.
"Fuck, Y/N," he breathes out before lifting you off the desk, your legs wrapping around his torso. He kisses you again, much more fiercely, as if you were his prey. His tongue battles to dominate yours, and you give in, wanting him to take control. He presses you against the office door and takes the opportunity to ensure it’s locked. He kisses you as if you had always done this and as if it were your last kiss. You moan against his lips as his hand moves between your thighs, massaging them before sliding into your pants and removing your clothing until your panties fall to the floor. You try to close your legs, the cool air hitting your core, while his lips trail from your mouth to your jaw, then down your neck as if he’s devouring every part of you.
His kisses are wet, and you hear him moan before pressing his body against yours, you feel his erection.
"Are you sure ?" He says before completely losing control and he rubs his covered erection against your exposed pussy "mmh", you moan being the only noise you can make to respond and nod at him. He pulls down his pants and boxers at the same time. The shy one, you would have stopped him. He pulls the bottom of your t-shirt up to your chest and his cock brushes against yours making you moan his name.
"Moan my name again. Otherwise I wouldn't give you what you want" and he rubs his cock again between your thighs, his fingers place one of your locks of hair behind your ear, then go down all the way down your body to your clitoris.
“Wet, just for me” and he presses his fingers against my skin a little more before stroking my clit with his thumb. Long ones caresses, giving me pleasure but increasing my impatience. You feel his whole hand between your thighs, his fingers continuing to caress you relentlessly.
“James, please” you moan.
“Fuck” he removes his fingers and thrusts into you, making you moan in surprise and pleasure. The door is locked, and House music prevents everyone from hearing you. He pulls out of you only to come in again, harder, you moan and bury your head in the crook of his neck, clinging to his t-shirt.
“Y/N, I want to feel your hands on me” he moaned before helping you take off his t-shirt and swinging it behind him. He still carries you, he pulls you away from the door and suddenly slams me on top of him, entering me again. The pain in my back and the lust flowing through your veins makes all your sensations stronger. He speeds up his movements and your nails dig into his shoulders. He goes faster and nibbles your skin, in your neck, your chest, anywhere your skin is exposed.
“James, I-I’m going to-” you’re cut off by another moan that leaves your mouth. He understands what you are trying to tell him and growls "Go on princess, I'm waiting for that", you feel your body reach its climax and he gives one last thrust, harder than all the others while his hands massage your thighs.
You sigh in pleasure and release all the tension your body was holding and cum. He doesn't stop moving back and forth and waits for you to finish. You seek his mouth and kiss it, he moans into yours and still doesn't stop, you feel him cum inside you and he parts into your lips to blow.
“Y/N, are you-” he moans again, the sound leaving his mouth and the music turning you on, you grind my hips against his and he moans louder and louder. You have control.
“Y/N – don’t stop” you continue to move your hips and with each movement you sigh in pleasure. You feel him finish completely and he catches his breath heavily his head still in your neck. He slowly pulls out of you and gently places me back on the desk. He quickly puts his boxers back on before putting your panties back on. You get off the desk and put your clothes back on correctly. He stares at you through his loving eyes and smiles viciously before saying "we'll do this again whenever you want but no need for an aphrodisiac" and he winks at me with a kiss on the forehead.
The tension of the past intimacy transforms into a soft and tender atmosphere. You stay embraced for a moment, savoring the warmth of your bodies and the deep connection you’ve just shared. James shifts slightly, looking at you with infinite tenderness.
"How are you feeling?" he asks softly, caressing your cheek.
"I feel… good," you reply with a smile, your eyes shining with happiness.
You spend a few more minutes talking softly, your laughter and murmurs blending with the gentle light of the office. But the reality of the hospital eventually catches up with you. James stands up first, helping you to sit up and tidy your clothes.
"We should get back to work," he says with a smile, but his eyes reveal a desire to prolong the moment.
You quickly rearrange yourselves, trying to regain a professional appearance. Once outside the office, you share one last knowing glance before returning to your respective tasks. The day continues, but the excitement and warmth of your intimacy remain with you, giving you renewed energy, knowing that he was going to get his revenge.
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