#and lays in bed and stares at the ceiling | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iheartcurlyfries · 2 days

Text

cause baby, you get me so...

dom!mascellie x sub!femreader

|| authors note: this is the first story I've ever actually felt proud enough to post || also sorry if it's iffy! I'm still new to writing but I've been taking awhile observing my favorite fic writers and have learned a few things so.. enjoy!! :) || (I made this because of shy smith's new song.) ||

|| CW: smut with a lot of plot, mdni, wlw, friends with benefits, ellie loves tits, LITTLE use of 'y/n', fingering, use of swear words, praising, ellie is soft, barely experienced reader, ellie shows reader true pleasure, and light masturbation. ||

you and ellie had been friends since almost forever, you've always been inseparable. and when you both grew older your innocent mind turned into something you never expected, you saw ellie in a different light and seemingly grew a liking to her. she's always protected you from everything and always treated you better than any other girl in jackson (which made you admire her even more), it was almost like she had a sweet spot for you, which you never understood why she did.

ellie was very proudly out, she loved having people know she was gay, she had multiple girlfriends but everything seemed to end up in the same way, ellie gets bored and she breaks up with them. and then there was you, a girl who was scared to come out, you had always pretended to like guys and even dated a few, but no one ever caught your eye as much as your bestfriend did. something about her made you tingle inside, you'd get the butterflies in your stomach even by just thinking about her, but you knew you'd never be able to tell her.

after every stressful day, you'd lay down in your bed, your gaze would shift from the wall to the window, trying to poke at every detail to entertain you. you'd shift and turn, trying to get comfortable, groaning when you couldn't find something to distract yourself with. you'd pick up your phone, scrolling through your messages, trying to find someone to talk to for entertainment.

and that's when it hit you, you saw ellie in your messages, the thought of her instantly creeping into your mind. a small smile formed with a curve on your lips, you'd sigh as you thought about her, putting your phone down as you stared at the ceiling. her being in your thoughts made your thighs rub together, you gently bit down on your bottom lip, picking at it with your teeth.

you couldn't lie to yourself, you always fantasized about ellie, thinking about all the things you'd let her do for to you. you always imagined her in between your legs, you'd yank at her hair as whimpers would escape your lips in a muffled tone. she'd always take it slow with you, making sure you'd adjust to her, she'd never wanna hurt you. she'd slide a finger into you, gently pumping it in and out of you as she swirled her tongue around your bud, making sure to be as gentle as possible. you'd whine and run your fingers through her hair, the sight of her fucking you always made you just wanna cum

you always gave in to your thoughts, everytime they got to intense, you'd gently swirl two fingers over your clit, biting down on your lip to hold back a hoarse whine, your thighs would press together when you got close, you were so very sensitive, a few flicks to your bud and you were done. you'd be a whimpering mess, making sure her name was the only word in your vocabulary in those moments. and when you were done you'd lie there, thinking as if she was the one pleasuring you. but you'd always think to yourself how much more you'd feel better if it was her and not you.

whenever you and ellie would hangout she'd throw flirty comments at you, being oblivious you never knew what she meant by the flirts, always thinking she was just being friendly. you never knew how she felt about you, you could've never imagined the fantasies she'd have, she always saw you as a pretty and delicate thing, like a porcelain doll. she always imagined how good it would feel to be the one to show you a real experience, something that your hand couldn't give you, something that only hers could.

you sighed, leaning back on ellie's couch as you watched her play a game, call of duty. you stared at the screen, smiling when she won and got all excited, you thought she was cute when the game fed her ego, and you rooted for her, giving out gentle and sweet praise to her. 'you're doing great- els.' you cooed as she got another kill. your gaze turned to her hands, she gripped the controller tightly as her fingers pressed the buttons at a quicker pace. you admired how patient she was with this game, how quick she would adjust after getting a kill, it was something you always admired about her.

'thank you ma' she'd say, smiling at you. "ma" was always a nickname she used for you, you liked it of course, it was special, something only she called you.

you'd giggle when she would call you that, a peachy tint covering your cheeks as you looked back up at the screen. "I don't understand how you're so good at this game." you'd tease, you were never really a big fan of video games, it was never something you were good at. but you enjoyed watching her play, you didn't know if it was just her being the one playing or if you actually enjoyed the game, but nonetheless you always found yourself loving watching her play.

'I'll teach you how to play one day, you'll be a natural I bet." she muttered, her eyes never leaving the screen. you looked over at you again, admiring her concentration on the game. "you got this 'els, you got this." you'd praise, the tone of your voice dripping with sweetness.

after your praise she got her last kill, winning the game before celebrating, a big 'ol grin always on her face when she'd win. she leaned back, man-spreading as she put the controller down on the couch, taking a deep breath as she looked over at you.

'do you wanna try, mama?' she asked, handing you the controller with a serious face, a smirk slightly creeping onto it.

"ellie no-" you obliged, 'I'd be humbled instantly.' I said with a nice little chuckle, pushing the controller back to ellie.

'no c'mon ma, I'll show you..' she said, her tone gentle. 'c'mere.' she whispered with a smile, patting her lap. you blushed, and you felt your eyes lightly widened, "okay.." you said with a soft smile, you sat up, crawling over to ellie. she grabbed your hips and sat you onto her lap, lightly rubbing her hands up your sides.

she handed you the controller, guiding you through the loading screen. she leaned over and whispered into your ear- 'this is the shooter..' she began explaining the "simple" instructions, you could barely focus, just the sound of her whispering in your ear and the feeling of her hands on your sides were enough to get you going. 'okay...' you mumbled, your voice lightly cracking. as you loaded in she moved her hands to yours, guiding yours on the controller, helping you get a few kills as she whispered a few praises in your ear. 'you're doing so well mama, look at you go..' she'd say, you'd bite your lip, rubbing your thighs gently together. you felt it, the same feeling, the feeling of being soaked.

after she helped you win the round she smiled, praising you more as she leaned back, her hands creeping back to your hips, rubbing them with her thumb. 'see? you're a natural.' she grinned, running her fingers over your hips, she pulled you back lightly. 'I love how easy you are to teach mama.' she whispered, her tone soft as she tried to get you to turn to face her. you smiled and turned around, facing her as you sat on her lap. 'I still hated it, it was stressing me out..' you giggled, putting a piece of hair behind your ear.

'that's okay, you don't have to play again.' ellie said, her hands now running down your thighs. 'but you did so good ma..'

god her voice.. you thought, everything she was doing made you feel amazing, the way she praised you and the way she stared at you. but oh the way she touched your thighs made you feel the best, it almost felt like she was just teasing you so she could get a reaction. but you didn't care, you got pleasure out of her touch.

you smiled at her, not saying anything as you just admired her, everything from her freckles to the details of her scars on her face. she looked up at you, her gaze softened slightly as she stared at you. 'do you know how beautiful you are, y/n?' ellie said as she lifted a piece of your hair out of your face, moving it gently as you let out a sigh. 'that's sweet, els..' you smiled, licking your lips slowly as you took a deep breath in.

'are you just gonna stare at me forever?' ellie muttered with a teasing tone, it snapped you out of your day dreaming. she giggled before putting a hand on your chin, gently pulling you in. you gasped slightly as she captured your lips in a kiss, she pulled her hand away from your chin, both hands on your hips as her gripped tightened.

you whimpered softly against her lips as her grip tightened on your hips, you put your hands on the side of her face, deepening the kiss more as the butterflies grew in your stomach.

as she kissed you she pulled her hands away from your hips, she guided them to your button up, gently unbutton-ing the buttons slowly, making sure to take her time. she pulled back for a second to slip the shirt off of your shoulders, you helped her, all with a smile on your face. you couldn't believe what was happening.

she smiled back at you, she guided a hand up to your chin again, lifting your jaw up before leaning in to kiss down your neck. she made her way to your collarbone, leaving behind pinky love marks. you let out a delicate moan as she kissed your collarbone, sucking another hickey onto it. 'wear these with pride, ma, they add to your beauty.' she whispered, her tone had a hint of playfulness as she pulled back.

'may i?' she asked, grabbing the hem of your skirt as she waited for your confirmation. 'yes, you're aloud anything..' you reassured her, you smiled as you adjusted yourself on her lap, helping her slide your skirt down your thighs.

as she got the skirt off of you she put it over on the other side of the couch where your shirt was. she turned back to you and leaned in for another kiss, taking everything slow with you. after a good minute she unlatched her lips again, she looked up at you as she made her way to the back of your bra, gently and slowly un-clipping it and guiding it off your chest. she smiled as she saw your perky breasts. 'mm so beautiful mama..' she whispered, gently putting her hands on them, fondling them. she took one finger and gently pinched at your nipple, making you let out a whimper in response. 'so responsive..' she praised, running her thumb over your nipple.

you let a few more whimpers slip as she played with your boobs, her fingers glided over your nipples before she leaned in and took one in her mouth, lightly sucking. 'mm that feels s'good els..' you'd whine, sliding a hand into her hair and gently playing with it.

with a pop she pulled away from your breast, smiling up at you as she kissed up your chest to your neck again, putting a hand on the other side of your neck. you lifted your head up, giving ellie more room as she claimed your neck, as she got closer to your ear she leaned in and whispered. 'mama, m'gonna fuck you..' her tone was smooth and it made your ears tingle, your breath hitched slightly while letting out a soft sigh. she giggled before kissing your neck again, as she was kissing up and down your neck, only leaving more hickeys she slid a hand down your thigh. you let out a gasp as you felt a hand rub at your clit, she rubbed in a harsh way as the wet spot on your panties only grew.

you let out a needy whine, gently spreading your legs more. you slid your hand back into ellie's hair once more, giving it a light tug. 'mmpph..' you moaned, slowly bucking your hips into ellie's hand. you honestly couldn't believe it, one of your fantasies actually coming true, the way she touched you so skillfully through your panties was just oh so fucking good, the way it was just as you imagined, gentle yet quick.

your thighs lightly shook as your head tilted back. she pulled away from your neck, leaning back on the couch with a lustful expression. 'gotta give you something real, princess.' she uttered as she pulled her hand back, guiding them to the hem of your underwear before slowing pulling it down your legs. you lifted yourself up slightly, helping her take them off.

she threw them to where your other clothes were with a grin, looking up at you. 'you're so beautiful..' she cooed, she leaned back again and ran a hand down your thigh. she took her ring and middle finger and gently slid them up and down your delicate folds. her touch making you squirm. she pulled her fingers back and put them in her mouth, tasting your slick, she moaned before pulling her fingers out, making sure they were really wet and ready for your cunt.

she pulled you by your hips, guiding you closer before slowly rubbing your nub with her thumb, 'you ready?' she whispered, looking up at you.

"as ready as I'll ever be..' you giggled, she smiled softly before slowly spreading your folds with her other hands, then slowly sliding the tip of her fingers into your entrance in a teasing way. you whimpered softly before she slid her full fingers into your tight sopping hole. this simple action made you moan, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip, your gummy walls lightly clenched around her fingers. she admired how your cunt swallowed them instantly, after a second she slowly pumped her fingers in and out at a weak pace, but the way they hit your sweet spot every thrust made it feel better than she thought it would.

you were messy as hell, she pumped her fingers into you, slightly increasing her pace as she whispered sweet praises into your ear. telling you how much of a good girl you were being and how well u were taking her. It made you melt, not only her voice but her touch too, you felt a pressure build up in your stomach, something you never truly felt before, and it made you glad ellie was the first person helping you feel that way.

'c'mon baby, you got this..' she'd whisper as she picked up her pace, her fingers pumping in and out of you at a more quickened rate, your walls gently pulsed at the speed changed but you adjusted quickly, gently moaning into ellie's ear as you rested your head onto her shoulder. 'm'gonna cum els, i can feel it..' you got a sentence choked out, it wasn't a cohesive one but it was good enough for these circumstances. she smiled at your words, only picking up her pace more as she rubbed her other hand up your thigh.

you couldn't help it, you lifted your head up and tilted it back with a moan, the way she was fingering you made you feel so fucking amazing. 'mmghh-- ellie..' you whined, you felt it coming, the pressure getting too good.. your eyes rolled back as your walls started to pulse, you felt it, coming down from your high as you let yourself come undone onto ellie's fingers. ellie was delighted, whispering more praise into your ear as she slowed down her pumping, after a few seconds she gently pulled her fingers out of you, licking them clean before she rubbed her hands up your thighs again, you laid your head back on her shoulder, panting heavily.

'good girl, ma, I knew you could do it..'

A/N: ahhh this is so bad but I love it so much!! writing makes me so happy and I hope this fanfiction made you happy too <3

#Spotify #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #smut #the last of us

139 notes · View notes

babiesdreams · 1 day

Note

jaehyun, best friends to lover, so much fluff, hugging, etc (based on my dreams) then one of them confessed. no angst just so much fluff and smut, corruption kink, size kink, choking, virgin reader, dom jaehyun

Omg YES.

My best friend +18 Jeong Jaehyun

Warnings: Virgin fem! reader, corruption kink, size kink, choking, nipple clamps, dom! Jaehyun

The soft melody of the song played in the background, filling the room with a quite distinctive mood. You had known Jaehyun for a long time now. He's been there for you in your darkest moments and you were convinced you were the only person besides his mother to ever see him cry. He had always protected you from the world, taking a rather brotherly attitude around you. You didn't mind it, even after being madly, and secretly, in love with him years ago.

His fingers were carressing your forearm, you both were laying on his bed looking at the ceiling as if it was a starry night full of secrets to unfold. He calls your name softly, to what you answer with a low hum. "Do you like the song?" He asks and yo suddenly remember how he'd been begging for you to listen to it but he had to actually play it in front of you for it to happen. "It's totally my style" You admit with a smile. He sits up and turns to look at you.

"See I told you. You never listen to me, but I am always right" You roll your eyes. "I wouldn't say always" You say in a sarcastic tone with a smirk. His brow raises at your bluntness. "Oh yeah?" His hands reach for your tummy and he starts tickling you. It is so sudden that you cannot avoid the loud laughter to come out of you.

"Stop" You say in between laughs. Your hands reach for his, making him fall over you when you pull them away from your belly. He stops himself from actually laying his whole body weight on you. His dark eyes stare deeply into yours and for the first time in years, you feel like your heart is beating just so that you can keep looking at him for longer.

He pauses, seemingly contemplating the deepest secrets of he world. Unable to speak a word nor move an inch. You open your mouth to say something but he's faster. "I love you" He whispers. All your thoughts get brushed away like dust on an old bookbeing blown away by a soft blow. You remain silent, trying to process the three simple words that repeat themselves in your head. He loves you. He loves me. You think.

His eyes look desperately for a sign of a share feeling inside your heart. He starts moving away from you. "I'm sorry... I" He starts explaining while sitting on the edge of the bed. You stay in your position, wondering how much longer would it take for you to fing the strength in your voice and say something. "I don't want things to change. I love you... as a friend." He keeps explaining himself in a monologue that seems to be a complete strange piece to the one you're living.

"Me too" You finally whisper. The sound is so subtle that Jaehyun keeps on going with his endless speech of how his love can be shaped into a strange form of friendship. "I love you too" You say now loudly. His words stop suddenly, he looks at you with suspicion. "If you're saying this to make me feel better..." He starts again and you let out a loud sigh. "I love you from the moment I laid my eyes on you. Ever since you held my hand for the first time I have imagined you holding it while we walk outside a church after getting married. I want you to hold my hand until life floads away from one of us. I love you"

Softly tears start dripping down your eyes. His hands cup your cheek wiping the tears of with his thumbs. There's a silent that makes you feel uneasy. Had you gone too far? "All I ever wanted" He whispers. "All I ever tried was to fulfill every single one of your desires, and for a while I was lost. I didn't know what you truly wanted. But now that I know.... Now that you've told me" He pauses for a second.

The tension stops your heart and time seems to be paralysed as well. His right hand moves from your cheek to your hand. "I'll never let go of your hand" He whispers with a smile. His hand feels gigantic holding yours. You knew, of course, he was taller than you but it had never crossed your mind how big his hands were as well. You stare at it, lifting your hand slowly.

"Are you comparing your hand with mine?" He asks with a cute chuckle. "How come it is so big?" You ask giggling. "Well, because I am big" He replies with a isn't it obvious kind of tone. "Not that big. You are deformed" You say jockingly. "Deformed?" He asks with a lifted brow. You look at him with a smirk on your face, he smiles as well as if he knew exactly what you were going to say.

"Remember what I taught you quasimodo. You are deformed" You say imitating the movie's line. "I am deformed" He replies with a loud laugh. You laugh with him and after a few seconds the silence returns. He looks into your eyes with a rather serious expression. His left hand lifts your chin slightly. It takes him a low squat to reach your lips. When he does, you close your eyes. His lips are soft and gentle guiding you into a slow dance. You lay your hands on the back of his neck.

There's a moment when you swear you're completely unable to breathe, and your heart completely stops. In all this years you had never imagined you'd get to experience a moment like this with him. His lips part from yours, forehead laid over yours. His breaths are heavy and messy. Horror suddenly washes over you when you realize he's needy. "Jaehyun I'm..." You try to explain your lack of experience but he interrupts you. "I know" He grunts.

He stays silent for a moment, only staring into your eyes. "You don't have to" He says and you instantly respond "I want to" He takes a deep breath trying to calm himself down. "I'll be gentle" He whispers but you shake your head. "We both know that's not what you like" As scary as it was for you, Jaehyun was really open about his sexual practices and they were far from gentle.

"It's your first time. I want you to enjoy it" He mutters. You look into his eyes and reply. "I want you to enjoy it too" He chuckles lightly. "I'm not saying we'll do a hardcore session or whatever it's called, but we can try some of the things you like. I might enjoy them as well" you reassure him with a gentle smile. He nods in agreement. "You will have a safe word though"

"I'll just ask you to stop if I need to" He shakes his head while his fingers fix your hair. "You can't use stop as a safe word" His statement confuses you. "Why?" You ask genuenly curious. "Because you'll say stop without really meaning it. It happens all the time" Your eyes stare into his confused. "Just use red" You nod without further questioning, since he's the experienced one.

He grabs your hand tightly guiding you towards his cabinet. He opens up the second drawer and a whole display of whips, gags and all sorts of torture devices overwhelms you instantly. He notices pretty quickly and closes it. His hand reaches for the handle of the third drawer and opens it.

This time the devices are more subtle. You identify most of them from conversations exchanged with him in the past. Some plugs and toys that you were told worked wonders on other ladies. "I..." You start to say, still unsure of what you're getting into. "There is no need truly" He assures you with a soft mutter. "I'll take these" You say grabbing a couple of chained clamps.

He lets out a chuckle. "You don't know what those are for" He says grabbing them from your hands. "Then teach me" You answer stopping his hands fro putting them away. His eyes fix on yours considering whether it is a good decision or not. "Teach me" You repeat.

He takes a clamp on each hand. He opens the right one and puts it on your fingertip. It is not as tight of a grip you imagined. It's rather soft and gentle. He drags his hand along the chain, softly pulling from it. The pressure applied by the device shifts along your finger as it moves until it is pulled all the way off your finger. His eyes don't leave yours at all.

"Did it hurt?" He asks softly, you shake your head in response. "Do you remember your safe word?" He asks while pulling down the sleeve of your dress. "Red" You whisper, suddenly lacking a great deal of air. When the fabric folds over, carressing your naked nipple you gasp. His hand goes back to the clamp, repeating his actions, only this time it grips your nipple instead of your finger.

The sensitivity is clearly shiften. Now you can feel every nerve of the area reacting to the pressure. Although there's some initial pain, slight though, it quickly gets overpowered by pleasure. You bite your lips when his hand starts pulling from the chain. This time you moan when he finishes. He stays quiet, almost too proud to admit he was wrong by supposing you were not ready.

His hand completely removes the dress from you, exposing you almost entirely. This time he does not hesitate to put both of the clamps on your nipples. "Let's test your endurance" He mutters to himself "What?" You ask as he walks away from you and back to the bed. He taps his lap, signing you to join him.

You climb onto the bed and look at him, intrigued. "Why did you open the second drawer first?" You ask genuenly curious. "I should have started from the bottom" He admits with a smile. "What's on the last one?"

"Just condoms" He replies while carressing your hair. "And what's on the first one?" You ask with a hint of horror. "You're not ready for that one" He says with a straight voice. "I want to know..."

"Curiosity killed the cat you know?" He asks raising a brow. "You'll know, when you're ready" He assures right after. "I'm more capable than you think" You reply and in response he pulls from the chain, taking the clamps off in a quick and sudden move. You let out a high-pitched scream. He stays still, waiting to see your reaction.

You grab his hands and guide him towards your body again, but he drops the clamps, limiting himself to carressing your soft skin. He lifts you and drops you right beside him just to climb over you right after. He starts tracing down your belly with his tongue. His arms spread your leg before he reaches your underwear.

His tongue wets the fabric by drawing circles over your clit. You look at him, deeply wishing the fabric would simply dissapear and, just as if he could read your mind, he rips the underwear off with his hand. He moves his tongue skillfully, passing over every inch of your wetness. There's a moment you feel your high growing inside of you, but he stops right before you could reach it.

He removes his clothes in what seems like a glimpse. It happens really quick, his length getting inside of you, the pleasure building up, his breaths carressing you like a soft wind blow. There's a feeling that takes over you, that forces you to move his hand towards your neck. He looks at you before applying pressure. It is a mix of completely new feelings, there's some sort of fear that disguises itself with lust and deep down there's a need. A need that grows stronger with every thrust until you finally let go, shaking under his figure.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Masterlist –requests open– How to request?

#kpop #nct imagine #nct #nct smut #nct reactions #kpop imagine #nct 127 #nct dream #nct dream smut #wayv #jaehyun #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun smut #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun imagine #jung jaehyun

81 notes · View notes

moni-logues · 2 days

Text

Deer Tracks

Pairing: Namjoon x f. reader (Suri); A Fine Line couple

Genre: slice of life? a little angst a little fluff? established relationship

Summary:

Beautiful, sobbing high-geared fucking and then to lie silently like deer tracks in the freshly-fallen snow beside the one you love. That's all. (Deer Tracks, by Richard Brautigan)

Word count: 3.2k

Content: implicit smut (piv), that's really it tbh

A/N: Anon, this is for yoooooouuuu! And for anyone else who loves the AFL couple like I do lol my first babies, my special little creatures haha. I have genuinely had this bonus chapter/drabble/whatever you want to call it in mind since I finished writing the series. I have thought of it SO often and, truthfully, never got to the end, never quite figured out in my head how I was going to pull it together. But I'm happy with what I did and I hope you are too!!! Also shout out to sunny for finding this poem for me when I couldn't months and months ago.

*~*

You lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling, legs swishing idly against the sheets, as if making snow angels out of them, but only the bottom half. And there was no snow. And you weren’t having fun. Sleep wouldn’t come. You had learnt that. It wouldn’t come until the smallest hours of the morning, when exhaustion finally gripped you and pulled you under. Then you would wake a few hours later, unrested, and do it all again.

It was self-inflicted. You knew that, too. You knew that you were doing this to yourself. You were sleeping in your own bed. Namjoon slept next door. You didn’t have to wonder if he was asleep because you could faintly make out the sound of his snoring even through the wall.

Things weren’t going well and you weren’t dealing with it. You were making it Namjoon’s problem, making yourself Namjoon’s problem. He knew it was happening. You knew it was happening. He didn’t have the power to stop you. You didn’t think you did, either. Even though you wanted to. You could feel all your worst instincts clawing at you, invisible hands crawling over the edge of the bed to pull you apart, pull your life apart. You wanted to resist them and you wanted them to devour you, both at the same time.

You loved him. You were in love with him. That was the problem. That was the thing that kept you up at night. The anxiety of it screamed at you and, sometimes, you could block it out; sometimes, he would kiss you and you would melt into him and everything felt golden; other times, more often recently, he would kiss you and you’d feel sick. Sick because you wanted to escape. Sick because you wanted him to stop seeing you. Sick because you loved him. Sick because he made you happier than you thought you would ever be again. Sick because it all terrified you.

So you pulled away. You pulled yourself back into your shell, set up spikes around it, were erratic and irrational about who got access to you and when.

You were sleeping in your own bed.

Namjoon had, weeks ago now, planned a sweet winter getaway. Just a long weekend. There was astronomical stuff happening: a big moon, some meteors, something that he would tell you about as you sat, breath puffing in front of you, huddled together outside a cabin, looking at it all. He had said you wouldn’t be able to see it well in the city; he was going to book somewhere remote, where the sky would be dark and clear. You had wondered why it mattered so much but matter it did, to Namjoon, so you had agreed, looked forward to it.

Until you had realised you loved him. Until he had come home one day, late and tired, and a choir had started singing in your heart. There had been nothing special about that day, not at all, but you had looked at him and he had smiled at you—crinkly-eyed and deep-dimpled—and something inside you had bloomed. It was love. It was horror.

You wanted him to cancel. To say, ok this is a bad idea, let’s not go and spend 72 hours in each other’s company with no escape and nowhere else to go. Because you wouldn’t say it but you didn’t want to go. You were fighting with yourself not to run, not to scarper, not to dig yourself a hole in the ground and live there instead. You could convince yourself you were coping while you had work to distract you with (and Namjoon had his work, too). But a weekend in the country? You wouldn’t be able to get away from it if you couldn’t get away from him.

There was a slightly tentative knock at the door.

“Yeah?” you called.

Namjoon poked his head around.

“I know we talked about heading up a little later but they’re forecasting snow so I think we should get an earlier train, is that ok?”

No.

“What time is that?”

“Probably around 9.”

“Ok.”

He nodded, hesitated at the door for a second, then nodded again, leaving you to it. You felt sick again. Terrified. Half of you wanted to run out to him, to tell him to please never, ever let you go. Half of you wanted to run.

The train was slow because the forecast had been partially right: it was snowing, but it was snowing earlier and heavier than predicted. The journey from the train station to the cabin was even worse. Namjoon couldn’t drive; somehow, you had gone all this time not knowing that. You had also forgotten that he had mentioned something about renting a car when he first brought up this trip.

You hadn’t driven for years. Hadn’t needed to. Wouldn’t have been able to afford a car anyway. You were anxious. You were already anxious and now you had to drive winding roads on forested hills while the snow fell thick like cotton balls.

“I’m not fucking doing it,” you said, as you and Namjoon stood outside the car rental place.

“We don’t have any other way of getting there.”

“Taxi?”

“They won’t go. I already asked.”

“Well then how do we get there? I'm not fucking driving.”

“Suri, plea-”

“No! I said no! I hate driving. I can’t drive! I won’t!”

“You said you have a licence.”

“Yes, I have a licence but I haven’t needed it for years. You seriously expect me to drive in this? I’ll kill us both.”

Namjoon pulled his beanie from his head with a sigh and then fixed it back in place.

“I’m sorry. This was not how I planned it. I didn’t know the weather would be this bad, but can you please drive? We can take it slow—everyone else will be driving slowly, too. I promise it’ll be worth it when we get there.”

You knew it was an argument you couldn’t win because, short of going straight back home, there were no other options. With the way the snow was falling, it was even possible that there wouldn’t be any trains running anyway. You offered him your best scowl and stomped inside to pick up the keys. You wanted to argue, but you wanted to get out of the cold.

The journey was almost painfully tense. Driving, as it turned out, was quite a lot like riding a bike and, even with the snow, you coped pretty well: drove carefully, took corners slowly, made it to the cabin in a little under an hour. But you held onto your anger like a security blanket. It was, in some ways, a relief to be able to cling to it, rather than being tossed about in the waves of your anxiety. Anger was safe. Anger kept people away. Kept Namjoon away.

You were hoping for blessed relief from the cold. You were expecting to open the door and be hit with a wall of warmth, fire lit, heating on, a small side lamp illuminating just enough of the space that you could find your way to the light switch.

It was dark. It was just as cold inside as it was out. You stood in the entry way and clenched your teeth together while Namjoon fumbled with the thermostat.

“I’m hungry,” you announced when nothing more had happened a minute later.

“Ok, yeah, we can eat in a sec. Let me just figure this out.”

“What do we have to eat?”

“I don’t know, babe; I think there’s something in that bag.”

Namjoon gestured vaguely to the pile of bags next to you, which told you nothing. You inhaled, preparing to heave an aggrieved sigh when Namjoon straightened and looked at you.

“I know, ok? I know. I’m sorry. This isn’t like I wanted it to be either.”

Sentences short, clipped, like he was fighting his own frustration. He probably was. You were being a brat. You knew it. You were making yourself his problem. You were pushing buttons.

Somehow, this time, it didn’t feel like victory. It felt like defeat.

You let your sigh fall and stomped past him, flopping onto the sofa still in all your winter stuff. He turned back to the thermostat.

It remained tense and quiet for the rest of the evening and when you (fully clothed with a jumper and socks on) slipped into bed next to Namjoon (also fully clothed), you had deflated. You couldn’t sustain your anger that long, not when Namjoon didn’t fight back.

“I’m sorry,” you said, chewing on the inside of your lip, eyes cast down.

Namjoon leant over and pressed a kiss to your hair.

“I’m sorry, too. This isn’t what I wanted.”

You bit harder on your lip when you felt it wobble.

“I just thought it would be nice to get away. The sky isn’t even fucking clear because of the snow. I should’ve planned this be-”

“No,” you said, interrupting. “I’m just being pissy.”

“Yeah...” He paused. “About that-”

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t want him to ask, didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to have to admit it, finally, that you loved him. Certainly not after that day.

“I...”

You hesitated because you could feel your heart thumping and that prickling sensation on your skin that said you were stripping yourself bare. “It’s just me. It’s not you. I... I’m not trying to be a dick. Well, I guess, I-... I’m sorry.”

You risked a glance at him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. He pressed another kiss into your hair. You closed your eyes and felt your limbs loosen, something inside of you unlocking, allowing you to relax into the warmth of his body.

“It’s ok,” he whispered. “As long as you’re here.”

You nodded.

“I’m here.”

You raised your face as he went to kiss your head again and he caught your eyebrow. You didn’t give him the opportunity to laugh or say anything; you put your lips against his, turned your body towards him, and hoped you could say without saying the thing that burnt inside you.

It somehow felt like it had been a long time. That the nights that had passed since the last time he was between your thighs had stretched into weeks, elongated themselves in your memory and your body, so that every touch, every movement felt like remembering. Felt like something almost lost but found again. Felt, as it always did, like something coming together within you. Never more in your body than when he was, too. It grounded you. It brought you closer to yourself, closer to him, as though they were one and the same.

“F-uck!” you cried, gasping and panting as you tried to hold on, wanting this to last.

You were so close to it, to letting all that pleasure wash over you, drown you, take you under, but you didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to let this pass. You wanted to stay in this moment, this perfect moment, where it was just you and him and everything you did best.

If it passed, you would have to confront it again: the fear, the terror that your love placed inside you.

“Shit,” you swore again, but it wasn’t pleasure this time. It was frustration because you’d thought about it. Because now you were thinking about it.

You shut your eyes. You couldn’t look at him without that painful heart swelling, that effulgent warmth that enveloped you, followed by the ice-cold trickle of anxiety. You loved him. You loved him. You loved him.

Did he love you? Could he? Could anyone?

Your breath hitched and you tightened your fingers around Namjoon’s arm, nails digging into his soft flesh. You could feel it welling, this feeling, these tears, brimming in your eyes, sticking to your lashes.

The moment the first fell was the moment it all came loose. You came, cursing and crying, your body writhing, Namjoon firm and solid and stable around you. You came, hot and harried, clutching him to you like a buoy, as he held you secure and safe as he always had. You came unfastened, unbuckled, apart at the seams, flopping into him, just crying now, just crying.

“Baby...”

His voice was as soft as his body was not.

“Are you ok?”

You nodded, desperate for him to believe you as you continued to sob. He placed a hand on your head, stroking gently, the other rubbing small circles into your back.

“It’s ok,” he whispered. “You’re ok.”

And you loved him more because that was all he said. He didn’t push you for answers, didn’t make you reassure him. He held you and soothed you and let you be sweaty and naked and messy in his arms.

You were shivering with the cold before the tears on your cheeks had dried. You both wordlessly re-dressed and snuggled under the bedsheets, still clinging to each other.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

You knew he already knew the answer. No.

“I’m fine,” you answered, muffled against his hoodie.

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

You nodded, because it was easier to just say yes now, to push the issue into the future. You could avoid it then, too.

Sleep didn’t come. You knew it wouldn’t, even though the cold made you tired, even though you could still feel Namjoon in every one of your muscles. You looked at Namjoon, at his face, peaceful as he slept. Not snoring, not right now. Tipped on his side, broad shoulders curled inwards. You thought about what he might see if your places were reversed. Did you look cute as you slept? Could he have lain and felt like he could look at you forever? Did it make his blood feel sweet inside him, having you close to him?

It felt impossible. Too easy. Everyone had said it was. Namjoon had said it was. Some of it had been easy, you thought. Maybe. The parts where it was you and him and no one else. The parts when you forgot to be self-conscious, forgot to supervise yourself so strictly. The parts when you just let yourself have it—happiness—even if you didn’t think you deserved it.

You looked towards the window, where that curious glow of snow was sneaking around the edges of the curtains. It was still dark outside, but snow had a light of its own somehow, a peculiar way of shining by itself.

You slipped carefully out of bed, wrapping your arms around yourself, and went to look. You pulled the curtain back and it was still snowing. Fat flakes fluttering slowly to the ground which was perfectly smooth and white. Unblemished. Untarnished. A blank slate.

You looked at the dark lump of Namjoon’s body under the covers. You were a blank slate. You had said that. Namjoon brought colour onto it. You had said that. You looked out at this perfect snowfall, the silent padding as it placed itself gently on the ground. A blank slate. Beautiful. No one had disturbed it. Not even a creature.

You had thought of your blank slate as empty. Blank because it held nothing. Blank with a freedom that scared you because you had been worn down and made to fear it. Your blankness made you hollow and worthless.

But this snow wasn’t. It was full. It was generous. It was giving itself to the earth. You had chosen. You had made your choice and it was Namjoon. Was always going to be Namjoon from the moment you had met him. And you had stopped fighting that.

You thought you had stopped fighting it but you had only paused. You stopped fighting it until you started again, until love blossomed in your heart just as everything on the surface started to bury itself underground. The richness and fullness of your own spring felt wrong, at odds with the earth and at odds with what you knew. What you had come to expect. What you had come to believe was all you would ever have.

You looked at the snow. You looked at Namjoon. You practised.

“I love you,” you said, barely more than mouthing the words but they still felt loud in the blanketed silence of the room. “I love you.”

You looked at the snow. Still perfect. Fewer flakes coming down now, the sky no longer heavy with clouds. You had been so intent on the snow that you hadn’t noticed the moon: bigger and brighter than you’d seen it before. This was what Namjoon had wanted to see.

“Hey,” you said, gently shoving against his shoulder.

He groaned, rolling onto his back and rubbing his eyes.

“What’s up?”

“Come.”

You tugged on his hand, pulled him out of bed.

“Look,” you urged, pointing at the moon.

Namjoon’s response was hummed as he adjusted to being awake. He shivered and pulled you into his body, back to his chest, arms around your waist.

“The moon,” he said eventually.

“Yeah, the super one.”

“Frosty.”

“Huh?”

“Uh, it’s called the Frosty moon, I think. If I were awake, I’d remember.”

You smiled and placed your hands over his, leaning your head back against him.

“I love you.”

Namjoon laughed and you froze, rigid as he let you go, as he turned you around. His hands moved to your face and he kissed you, warm and soft, a smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I love you,” he replied, kissing you once more before he laughed again. “I fucking love you.”

“You do?” Your voice was whisper thin, air caught in your throat.

“Yes, I do! I love you!”

The bubble of worry in your chest popped and it all disappeared, all that fear, all that doubt. He loved you. He fucking loved you.

“I love you,” you repeated, looking at him this time.

Even in the early-morning darkness, you could see his eyes sparkle, see the dimples in his cheeks. He mouthed the words back at you, picked you up and carried you back over to the bed. He wrapped himself tightly around you, lips against the back of your neck, your shoulder, your jaw.

“I didn’t want to rush you,” he said. “I didn’t want to put any pressure on you, so I wanted you to say it first but, fuck-” he laughed again- “fuck, I’ve wanted to tell you so badly.”

“You have?”

“Yes, baby. I love you. I really fucking love you.”

“I love you.”

You stared through the darkness at your hands, clasped together just in front of you. The words felt fuller than you ever thought they could. You had thought they would feel like something being taken from you, like they would open up a hole inside you and leave you bereft but they didn’t. Each time you said it, you felt filled up. With every repetition of the words, you felt more whole. Coming together. Being brought together inside yourself, all your little broken pieces.

You loved him. He loved you.

You fell asleep quickly and slept soundly until late morning.

#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #rm x reader #rm fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon fluff #bts fluff

60 notes · View notes

g3z0 · 3 days

Text

Boy next door P3

P1 P2

Summary: You move from Florida to Boston in the middle the school year. Being the new kid is hard - being the new kid in the middle of the school year is even harder. Especially if you’re not good in making friends. But suddenly, there’s this boy who lives next door that caught your attention

Warnings: cursing, mommy issues, smoking weed

-g3z0

I felt my stomach clench out of hunger.

I pressed my lips together as I turned the whole kitchen upside down for the 4th this day.

Food won’t just appear all of the sudden y/n.

It’s the second week that mom is gone.

It happened so often, I’m used to it.

The door bell rings and I close my empty fridge again.

Mom would use her keys. Expect if she lost them. Again.

I walk over to the front door and open it. I blink down at the woman in front of me.

She looks up at me and smiles brightly „Hello. Is your mom home?“ the woman asks.

I slowly shake my head and look down at the wrapped up oven dish she’s holding in her hands.

My stomach turns again.

„No- she’s not.“ I said, looking back into the woman’s eyes.

„Oh. That’s okay.“ she smiled softly at me „I’m Mary-Lou. I live next door with my husband and my son.“ she pointed towards the house from the boy.

My eyes widened as I realized that I’m talking to the mom of the boy. „Oh. Sorry- we wanted to introduce ourselves-" I shook my head.

„Oh, don’t you worry sweetheart.“ she chuckled. My heart clenched a little.

„Anyway, I made you and your mom some food.“ she held the oven dish out to me.

„Thank you..“ I almost whispered, taking it out of her hands.

„You know, i know it’s hard to get a job here. If you want some extra money you could help my husband out in our garden?“ she asks softly.

She chuckled „my son isn’t big of a worker. He doesn’t like that stuff.“ she scrunches her nose up a little.

Oh my god, she’s adorable.

I nodded quickly „yeah- I’d love to.“ I breathed.

„Really?“ her eyes lightened up a little „im so glad.“ she smiled „just come over if you have time.“ she pats my arm softly.

I nodded again „yeah- thank you so much.“ I breathed. „For the food and-"

„It’s not worth mentioning it.“ she laughed, waving me off. „Okay. Tell your mom I said hi.“ she said as she walked back to her house.

„Yeah. Thanks again!“ I yelled after her. She waved at me with a smile before she disappeared back into her house.

When I didn’t saw her anymore I closed the door and ran inside. I put the oven dish on the kitchen counter and snapped a fork out of the drawer.

I unwrapped the foil around it as fast as I could and started to devour the oven dish.

I groaned at the taste. Even if it’s cold - it tastes heavenly.

This woman got send straight from god.

I almost ate the whole dish. I put the rest of it in the fridge and walked back into my room.

I let myself fall down on my bed and sighed out of relive.

I sat back up and leaned against the headbord of my bed. I looked out of the window and saw boy next door again.

I think he’s an night owl. Every night I just watched him as he scribbled in his book with his headphones on.

What does he write 24/7? What kind of music does he listens to?

I watched him for a while. Suddenly he turned his head and met my gaze.

I quickly looked away and felt my heart starting to beat faster.

Fuck.

He‘ll think I’m weird or something. That I’m stalking him.

I took a deep breath and after a few minutes I looked back out of my window.

He was gone and his window was closed. I frowned as I saw a big piece of paper that’s attached to the window.

I let out a small laugh as I read it.

„Enjoying the view?“

So he doesn’t hate me.

I don’t know if it’s a good or a bad sign.

I ruffled through my drawers till I found a piece of paper and a pen.

I wrote something down before I attached it to my window.

„Maybe. You’re provoking it a little tbh.“

My heart beated fast as I layed back into my bed. I smiled to myself as I stared up the ceiling.

Chasey isn’t as bad as I thought.

She’s a really honest person wich I admired.

She said what she thought. She did what she wanted. She wasn’t scared of anyone. Hell, I don’t think she was scared of anything.

I appreciated her. I also appreciated Kayla and Olivia.

Olivia talked a lot. I didn’t mind that. When Olivia talked, she talked with such a passion behind it that it was fun to listen. She didn’t saw anything bad in anyone.

I don’t thinks that’s a good thing tho.

Kayla was sweet and kind. A person Owen definitely did not deserved.

Chasey pulled over at my house. I smiled as I walked towards her car. She rolled her window down and smiled at me.

„liv‘s sick today. Wanna ditch?“ she asked. I raised my eyebrows and looked back to my house.

Mom isn’t home. She wouldn’t notice.

„Yeah- sure.“ I nodded before I walked around and got inside. I sat down on the passenger seat.

„What about Kayla?“ I asked as I put my seatbelt on.

Chasey laughed slightly „bro, you’re obsessed with her or something?“

My cheeks instantly felt hot „what? No. It’s not like that-" I stuttered. She hummed in response and licked her tounge over her teeth as she looked over to the house next door.

Boy next door walked out of his house and me and Chasey watched him. She sighed slightly before she started to set the car in drive.

I felt my stomach doing a weird thing as we drove past him. It’s the same weird thing it did yesterday when we had our first conversation.

Okay, it wasn’t a conversation. He just wrote a three words on a piece of paper and attached it to his window.

„You smoke?“ Chasey ripped me out of my thoughts. I looked at her and shrugged slightly „nah..“

„Nah?“ she repeated, looking over me for a quick second. „You look like you smoke.“

I frowned at her remark „compliment or insult?“

She licked her lips and smirked slightly „what do you think?“

I chuckled a little before I looked out of the window.

„Wanna go to mine? My dads working.“ she said.

I shrugged a little „sure.“

After a while of driving she pulled up to her driveway.

I swallowed slightly at the sight of her house. Big and clean.

Nothing like mine.

She put the car in park and got out. I grabbed my bag and stepped out of her car „wow.“ I breathed, looking at her house.

„What?“ she laughed, putting her sunglasses on the top of her head.

„You’re like.. rich rich.“ I stated. She shook her head and smiled „come on, shit talker.“

She walked inside and I followed her. „It’s true tho.“ I mumbled.

Once we got inside I took my shoes off and placed them into the corner.

She raised her eyebrows at my action but didn’t say anything about it.

I followed her into her room and she slumped down on her bed. „sit where you want.“ she mumbled as she opened the drawer of her nightstand, pulling out a grinder and a bag of weed.

„Okay.“ I breathed, sitting down next to her on her bed.

My eyes scanned her room. A electric guitar hanging on her wall, posters of old bands and some photos of her and her friend.

She’s so fucking cool.

„Wanna smoke with me?“ she asked as she rolled the joint.

My eyes fell back to her „uh..“ I blinked at her. She snorted „you don’t need to. Not gonna peer pressure you.“ she shook her head „Im just offering.“

„Thanks.“ I smiled a little „yeah.. I can try.“ I swallowed.

She licked the joint paper and bit her lip slightly as she finished rolling it.

A small spark emited from an old red lighter before it glows with an orange flame.

Chasey held the blunt between her lips, holding it there while throwing the lighter onto her bed, inhaling weakly.

It takes a few seconds before a cloud of smoke exited between Chasey‘s lips.

„In here?“ I questioned. She shrugged and took a long drag. She held it in her lungs for a few seconds before she blew the smoke out.

„My dad doesn’t care anyways.“ she mumbled. She laid back down on her bed and took another drag before handing the joint out to me.

I took it hesitantly as I layed down next to her on my side, supporting myself with my elbow on the bed.

I bought the joint up to my mom and took a drag. I instantly coughed and squeezed my eyes shut.

I don't even got a change to hold in the smoke before it exits my lungs harshly, scrapping my throat as it arises.

„Shit-" I coughed, pressing my face into my arm.

Chasey laughed and took the joint away from me „slow down, tiger.“

I laughed a little between coughs and looked back at her „that shit burns.“ I whispered with a hoarse voice.

She hummed in response and took another drag „take small puffs.“ she mumbled before she blew the smoke out. „And don’t inhale them directly. You’re still a virgin smoker.“ she gave me the joint back.

I blushed a little at her comment and took another puff, this time a smaller one. I coughed again but not as hard as the first time.

„so-" I cleared my throat „why did Olivia call the boy next to my house a „psycho boy“?“ I asked.

She licked her lips and rubbed the side of her face with her hand „god- long story..“ she sighed.

„I have time.“ I smiled down at her.

She took a deep breathe. „Basically- Nick had a huge crush on Kayla and stalked her. So we named him psycho boy.“ she explained.

So his name is Nick.

I raised my eyebrows at her „really?“ I tooo another puff.

„Mhm.“ she sighed „I didn’t even notice all that. But Kayla told us and.. she said it was really sick.“

I gave the joint back to her „that’s uhm-.. fucked up.“ I mumbled.

My eyes feel heavy.

„I don’t know if it’s true tho.“ she looked at me and took another drag „because-" she exhaled the smoke „Kayla likes to lie.“

I smiled and chuckled a little „yeah? Doesn’t seem so.“ I mumbled.

Chasey looked at me and giggled „bro, you’re baked.“ she closed her eyes and laughed.

„Im what?“ I laughed. „I can’t bake.“ I mumbled. She layed her hand over her eyes and giggled.

„What?“ I laughed. She just shook her head.

My head started to feel a little dizzy. But not a bad dizzy.

Everything was so funny. And god I was tired.

„You look at me-" she lets out a laugh and squeezed her eyes shut, laying her forehead against my arm.

„You’re so stupid..“ I whispered between chuckles.

I didn’t know that being high feels so good.

Chasey and me almost ate her whole snacks. We talked a lot till she drove me back home.

„Thanks.“ I smiled as I got out of her car. „See you Monday, Chasey.“ I said before closing the door. I walked around the car and towards my house.

She rolled the window down „hey y/n! Call me chase!“ she yelled after me.

I smiled and gave her a thumbs up before I walked into my house.

I closed the door behind me and heard noises from the kitchen.

I slowly moved towards the kitchen and peeked inside.

The radio was on full volume and my mom was cooking while she sang the songs that were playing on the radio.

I sighed before I walked to the radio and turned the volume down. „We still have neighbors, mom.“ I mumbled.

She quickly turned around and yelped happily as she saw me „y/n!“ she grinned and literally ran over to me, wrapping her arms around me.

„God- I missed you so much.“ she mumbled, squeezing me thighter.

„hey, yeah.“ I breathed „missed you too..“ I whispered, pulling away from her hug.

„You hungry? I’m making food. I’m bet you‘re hungry after a long school day!“ she hummed and walked back to the stove.

I leaned my back against the kitchen counter and watched her.

She hummed to the beat of the song and danced a little around.

I licked my lips and looked down on the ground „where were you?“ I asked, almost too quiet.

„Hm?“ she looked over her shoulder to look at me. She shrugged casually and looked back to the stove „oh, you know. Out with old friends. I had so much fun! You remember Steven? Ohh, how I love Steven. He was there! And we went bowling and shopping and-"

I closed my eyes. „Mom.“ I sighed.

She stopped talking and looked at me. „What?“ she chuckled. I blinked my eyes open and looked at her.

„Did you relapse?“

Her face darkened. „What?“ she asked. I shrugged a little „I mean- the house was a mess and you were just gone for two weeks.. I-" I let out a breathe and rubbed my eyes.

„I thought we moved here so it‘ll get better..“ I whispered.

She blinked at me. „I-I’m sorry..“ she whispered.

Please god, no.

„Im so sorry.“ she sobbed and pressed her hands into her face.

„Mom-" I sighed. She just shook her head and sobbed.

I took a deep breath and walked over to her „it’s okay.“ I whispered, laying my hand on her shoulder.

„It’s not.“ she mumbled with a shaky voice „Im such a bad mother. I don’t deserve to live.“ she cried.

I clenched my jaw. „Hey, did you took your happy pills? They make you feel better, hm?“ I asked gently.

She shook her head.

„It’s okay.“ I rubbed her arm gently „you’re gonna take them and then we‘ll eat. Smells really good what you’re cooking there.“

She sniffed and wiped her tears away „really?“ she asked.

I nodded „mhm. And the neighbor was at our door today. It felt like she really wants to get to know you.“ I smiled down at her.

Her expression softened and she let out a relieved sigh „that’s great.“ she nodded a little „oh that’s so great..“ she sniffed again.

„How about im going to finish this here and you’re going to take your pills?“ I asked carefully.

„Yeah..“ she breathed „okay.“ she nodded before she walked upstairs.

I closed my eyes and ran my hand through my hair.

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #nick sturniolo x you #nick x reader

40 notes · View notes

thisisawonderfulusername · 10 hours

Text

good luck, babe abby anderson x reader requested by: anon and @evelynscoffin summary: based off of chappell roan's "good luck, babe" word count: 3k a/n: this is definitely not my best work because i haven't written anything in so long but i hope yall enjoy it. i also took a wee bit of creative liberty with the lyrics lol

abby has been your best friend since joining the fireflies, when you were nothing but teenagers learning to survive in a cruel world. when life got to be too much, she was there for you, inviting you into her room and bed where you can lay your head on her chest, and you were there for her just the same.

as you got older, it seemed to be more her needing comfort after breaking up with yet another boyfriend that you knew wouldn't last long. or more so, hoped it wouldn't last long.

as a younger girl, you never understood that feeling. why didn't you want your best friend to be happy with a boy she liked? are you protective of your best friend? a good vibe-checker?

you later realized that no. you're not protective, or good at telling when a guy isn't right for her.

you're in love with her.

and you first realized that three months ago, when you had gotten drunk with her in your room when your roommate was at the fob. she was smiling as she entered your room after a swift knock, kicking off her boots. “i have a surprise for you,” she hums.

“oh really?” you chuckle, sitting up in your bed and setting aside the book you were reading. “what is it?”

excitedly, she turns her back to you as she searches through her bag. seconds later, she's turning around with a grin, a bottle of whiskey held up for you to see.

your eyebrows raise at the sight as she moves to sit next to you on the bed. “where did you even get that?”

“snagged it from the liquor store on patrol.” she tells you, muscles flexing as she twists the cap off. it's effortless for her, even though it's been sitting on a shelf for who knows how long now. she holds out the bottle, “care to have the first drink?” she smiles cheekily.

chuckling, you grab the bottle from her. you take a long drink, automatically regretting it as you swallow and your throat burns with the liquid's travel. your nose scrunches in disgust, “god, that tastes terrible.”

abby laughs, taking it from you and drinking, “good thing we're not drinking it for the taste.”

hours later, you're laying on your bed, the now half empty bottle discarded onto your bedside table as you stare up at the ceiling.

abby lays next to you, finger trailing along an exposed sliver of your skin along your abdomen. she looks at you with a face flushed from alcohol, mumbling quietly, “you're so pretty.”

a lazy smile tugs up on your lips as you turn your head to look at her, tired eyes meeting hers. “you're prettier,” you mumble just as softly.

she chuckles, turning on her side to get a better look at you. her hand rests on your hip. “that's not possible,” she hums.

it's then that the feeling washes over you. a warmth- that's partially from the alcohol- but it grows hotter with how she's looking at you. like you're the only other person in the world.

to you, in this moment, she is.

slowly, your hand comes to rest on her cheek as you gaze into her eyes, unconsciously leaning closer.

“can i…” its barely a whisper as your lips hover just over hers, breaths mingling as your heavy eyes gaze into her own that dart down to your slightly chapped lips. you can't even finish the sentence with your breath taken away.

instead of saying anything, she closes the almost non-existent gap as your nose nudges hers, lips meeting like puzzle pieces that completed each other perfectly. her lips are the taste of the whiskey you drank, spicy sweet and so much better than the actual drink.

when you have to pull apart for oxygen, your eyes stay closed for a moment before they slowly fluttered open, meeting her intense gaze.

and without another word, your lips meet again. soon, feverish kisses turn to more.

when you wake up the next morning, the bed next to you is empty, void of a warmth that once wrapped around your undressed body. you could almost believe that it was a dream, but the bottle on your bedside said differently.

you sigh, getting ready for the day.

It's fine, it's cool

You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth

And guess I'm the fool

With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof

it's impossible to avoid staring at abby's arms as you sit across from her in the back of the humvee. they're just perfectly spread across the top of the truck bed walls, perfectly positioned to show her bulging muscles and the freckles that litter them.

if she saw your gaze, she would never mention it here, where other ears can hear the teasing comments she makes about your wandering eyes when you're alone once again.

remembering that fact- that she doesn't want people to know- strains your heart as it finally allows you to look away from her, lips unconsciously pulling down into a frown.

outside of your nights together, abby acted like you were just another one of her friends. when you were alone, she'd whisper sweet things to you as her head rested on your chest and your fingers trailed over her muscles. around other people… she just acted like there's nothing special going on between you.

you let out a soft sigh and toy with the magazine in your pistol, not noticing her quick glance in your direction with furrowed brows.

later that night, after you had taken a shower and laid down on your bed, there was a knock on the door. specifically the knock that you and abby made so you would always know if it was her or you at the door.

“come in!” you raise your voice so she can hear and she pushes the door open. “what's up?” you ask as she crosses the room to your bed.

she shows the movie she holds in her hand. “look what i found,” displaying the title clearly.

“jurassic park?” you question with a chuckle, “where did you even find that?”

“stashed it when no one was looking.” she tells you, opening the case to pull out the dvd.

when no one was looking.

you should expect that she wouldn't even want people to know you shared nights where just the two of you hung out- it still hurt nonetheless.

“well, let's pop it in.” you grin, grabbing the shitty old laptop you had found in an electronics store, shocked when you plugged it in at the stadium and it actually worked. of course, there were few things you could do.

but movies didn't require ‘internet’ as you had learned about when you first found the thing and explored all that it had to offer.

“chrome?” you squint your eyes at the icon displayed on the screen, looking to abby as she shrugs. you click the icon and it brings you to a screen with a spinning line, which loads after a moment.

“no internet?” abby questions, her arm behind your back as she uses it to hold herself up, “is there anything we can do?”

with a shrug, you click the x before examining the screen. the square button cut into four pieces catches your attention. when you move the little arrow across the screen, it pops up with a box that showed many different titles.

“dvd player…” you point out, “my dad said dvds were movies that you could put in a tv.” you purse your lips, clicking the title for it to bring up a box with text in the center.

enter disc

humming, you turn to look at her, “looks like we can't do shit without a movie,” you frown, disappointed.

“looks like we have something to look for on our next patrol.” her sentence turns your frown into a smile, already excited for whenever you can watch an actual movie.

“what's minesweeper?”

after settling in on your bed, the two of you cuddled up to watch the movie.

halfway through, she turned to look at you, “were you okay today?” she asks out of nowhere.

you pause the movie, looking to her with furrowed eyebrows. “what do you mean?”

she looks down at the blanket for a moment, “you seemed… off.” she starts, “in the truck?”

breath almost catching in your throat, you avoid her gaze. you hope you're not incredibly obvious. “nothing was wrong,” you lie, “i was just… worried about scars.” it is not smooth at all, but you have to hope she doesn't notice or at least not question it.

her hand gently grabs your chin to guide your gaze to her soft one. “you know you can tell me if something's wrong, right?” she asks gently.

the nod you give her is limited due to her hand still held to your jaw, and you can't trust yourself to say anything without breaking down.

“okay,” she says almost silently. if you weren't so close right now you wouldn't have heard it. without another word, she leans in to give you a slow kiss.

I don't wanna call it off

But you don't wanna call it love

You only wanna be the one that I call "baby"

You can say it's just the way you are

Make a new excuse, another stupid reason

“why don't you want anyone to know about us?”

the question is quiet, but it seems to fill your silent bedroom as you lay in your bed, fingers grazing across her toned back, her skin warm.

she turns her head to look up at you, cheek resting against your bare chest. “what do you mean?” she questions, just as softly.

you take a small breath and avoid looking into her eyes, focusing on your finger as it traces her muscles. “i mean…” you think for a moment, “we’ve been doing this… thing… for a few months now.”

when she doesn't reply, you purse your lips. “i guess i just want to know what this is.”

her eyebrows are furrowed as she looks at you. “what do you mean by this?” she asks.

you sigh, closing your eyes and leaning your head back. “us. our relationship.” is that even what she considered it? you've been sneaking around, having these intimate moments- what if it's nothing to her?

you wouldn't be surprised. she hasn't exactly tried to keep it exclusive, getting drunk with different guys and doing who knows what. maybe she has this sort of thing with other people too.

“i… didn't know that's what you wanted.” she tells you after a moment, avoiding your eyes as she focuses on your soft skin.

you can't help the frown that tugs your lips down.

“i guess i'm just not ready.” she finally says, still not looking up at you.

the deep breath you take shakes as you think through your next words carefully.

then when will you be?

what do you even think of this?

how long will you make me wait?

“okay.”

I'm cliché, who cares?

It's a sexually explicit kind of love affair

And I cry, it's not fair

I just need a little lovin', I just need a little air

Think I'm gonna call it off

Even if you call it love

I just wanna love someone who calls me "baby"

you're tired of it.

the hiding, the secrecy. watching as she goes around to different boys- to owen- it made you sick and you can't handle it anymore.

you can't even stand being in the stadium. it was something you had been thinking for a long while now, but every time abby came to you it made you change your mind.

but now, abby won't be able to stop you. you were going to tell her it's over, then leave right after.

to give yourself no ability to hesitate once you come back to your room, you grab your pack and fill it with the essentials, your water bottle going into its designated pocket.

before you swing it over your shoulder, you notice the jacket you wear. tugging it off, the wlf logo stares back at you. you think one last time if this is what you really want before you throw it across the room and grab your bag, leaving the room and bravely walking down the hallways.

when you get to her door, you put the bag next to it, taking a deep breath. looking down at your feet, you use your special knock one more time.

when she opens the door, you meet her eyes. you take a deep breath. “can i come in?” you question, abnormal for your relationship. typically, it's late at night, and you don't even wait for her to open the door.

her eyebrows furrow as she looks at you, clearly confused. “sure?” she answers, not used to all of what's happening.

nodding, you enter the room, hands meeting each other as you play with your fingers. she closes the door behind you.

“we can't do this anymore.”

you wish you could say it louder, wish it didn't feel like your heart was being squeezed by your very own hand. you're afraid of her reaction. angry, sad, indifferent. anything upset you in multiple ways, so you avoid her gaze.

the silence that follows has you closing your eyes as your hand balls into a fist, taking in a deep breath until finally, she speaks. “what do you mean?”

it sounds dejected and your fist clenches harder. pulling your gaze away from the wall feels like the hardest thing you've ever done, and you think it might be when you see her fallen features.

part of you wishes she was angry instead. if she was angry, it would be easier to justify ending everything. but you have to ignore the rapid thump of your heart.

“i-” you swallow dryly, “i can't keep being with someone who doesn't want anyone to know we're together.”

she starts to say your name, but you swiftly cut her off. “i want to be with someone who loves me like i love them.”

you will your gaze to steel itself as it returns to her, not wanting to break down into tears just yet. abby steps forward, her hand gently reaching out to touch your arm. “i do love-”

“- no, you don't.” you stop her sentence from finishing, stepping away from her touch. “i know you don't because this is what it takes for you to say it. you don't even want anyone to- fuck, i'm nothing to you.”

when she stops speaking all together, just staring with hurt filling her eyes as she tries to spit out everything that she's thinking- you're not nothing to her, she does love you. with all of her heart.

but she's scared. scared of her feelings, of how other people will view her as different for not being what she deemed was ‘normal’.

when a long beat of silence passes, you finally tear your gaze away from hers, willing yourself not to look at her as you walk past her and to the door. you can't take being here any longer- it's suffocating. and she clearly wasn't going to say anything soon.

your name slips past her lips again, a sound you would love in any other context. “please, just-” but the door is closed behind you before she can even begin to think of how to say what she wants to say.

you swiftly grab your bag, not pausing for a second as you walk down the hall, trying to control your breathing. in and out at a steady pace, ignoring your rapidly beating heart as you guide yourself.

you don't look at your room door as you pass, focusing your gaze straight ahead so you don't have a chance to think about stopping.

you make your way to the entrance, your watch showing that it was the shift change for the guards. perfectly timed for no one to be able to question where you were going.

when abby rushes down the hallway to your room, practically banging on your door, you're not there to answer. instead, she throws open the door when you don't respond. her eyes immediately fall to your side of the room as she walks towards it.

everything is gone. your pistol, the water bottle that you kept next to your bed- and when her gaze falls to the floor, your wlf jacket, crumpled up and forgotten.

her hand balls into a tight fist as her jaw clenches, taking in a deep and shaky breath. “fuck…”

When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night

With your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife

And when you think about me, all of those years ago

You're standing face to face with "I told you so"

You know I hate to say it, "I told you so"

good luck, babe (well, good luck)

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

with a jolt, abby wakes up, slowing her rapid breaths while she holds her hand to her chest. she looks to her side, reality replacing the dream-turned nightmare.

sitting up, she looks at the guy she had been talking to that day over a bottle of whiskey laid next to her, his chest bare as he slept peacefully.

closing her eyes, she holds her head in her hands. her mind travels to you, wondering where you had gone and how far you've gotten in the year you were gone. would she be able to find you if she tried?

i do love you

you don't want anyone to- fuck, i’m nothing to you

i’m nothing to you.

nothing.

if only she showed you how wrong you were.

but you were the one to prove her wrong. she could only imagine you laughing in her face as you told her you were right.

pinching the bridge of her nose, she finally throws the blanket off of herself, getting her clothes back on to go back to her own bed. she can't sleep for the rest of the night.

taglist (kinda had to start over with it because i lost the original oops) @rosecentury

#abby anderson x reader #tlou x reader #tlou abby x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us abby anderson x reader #tlou abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou x reader

36 notes · View notes

roxygen22 · 2 days

Text

Inspired by the restless night I just faced thanks to a loud thunderstorm crossing overhead, I decided to flip my recent storm fic in which Timmy/Lee needed comfort. Short but sweet.

Safe

You barely had time to register the flash of light that seared through your closed eyelids before a loud clap of thunder ripped you from a restless dream. You heard the window panes rattle in their frames as you shot upright in your bed, trying to catch your breath. It sounded like the storm was right on top of you, like somebody was playing the bass drum in your ear. Oh wait, that was your heartbeat.

Timothée reached up and rubbed a hand up and down your back. "Hey, shhh, it's ok. You're safe. It'll pass," he cooed in almost a whisper. You looked down at him, only able to make out the outline of his body in the dark, aside from the intermittent flashes of lightning.

He folded his arms around you as you slowly laid back down, your body turned toward him so your cheek rested on his chest. You tried to concentrate on the rhythmic lub-dub of his calm, steady heartbeat rather than the wild wind outside. You felt one of his hands make its way to the back of your head to play with your hair.

The next thing you knew, sunlight was filtering through your eyelids as you heard birds chirping outside. You weren't ready to open your eyelids, so you took in your surroundings with your other senses. Your cheek still rested on the soft skin of Timothée's chest. He smelled like comfort, like fresh mown grass and a hint of pine and leather. You felt his arm still cradling your back and his hand resting on your side. You blinked the sleep from your eyes and focused on his face, which was staring at the ceiling. He turned his head when he noticed your movement and smiled.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said softly, voice still gravelly with sleep.

"How long have you been awake?" you asked out of curiosity, since he seemed rather alert.

"A bit, but I didn't want to move and wake you."

You noticed your body was stiff from staying in one position for hours. You took pity on Timothée's arm, which you guessed was probably asleep from you laying on it, so you sat up to release him from your weight. He winced a little as feeling crept back into his hand. You brought it to your cheek and kissed his palm.

"I love you."

He half smiled and rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone. "I love you more," following along with the game you two played nearly every day.

"I love you most." You broke out in a grin, then launched yourself off the bed to go make breakfast before he could argue with you.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag list:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

33 notes · View notes

muiitoloko · 2 days

Note

Heyy!! I loved your last Eli fic so muchhh 😭 I swearr I love your fics sm 😭

Honestlyy, I'm in the mood for some angst that ends well/cuddles with Eli 😔

Sooo I mean, you can change anything really, buut something where like he had an incident in the lab or some kinda thing where he's at the hospital? idk he's kinda sad because literally no one came to visit him inventing excuses (poor baby ily) but reader (who's just a student) is actually really worried etc because she's been in love with him for a long time? soo idk I just picture her crying and everything and he's like ???why are you crying??? and idk something really fluffy and a bit angsty?🥹💗

Title: (Not) Alone

Summary: He feels alone, until he's not alone anymore.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson × Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluffy.

Author's Notes: Big thanks for tossing this request my way! Now, I'll admit, I might take a few liberties with the Eli's vibe, so apologies in advance if it's a bit off the beaten path. But hey, I'm all ears for any feedback you've got! Let's make this journey together! 🚀📝

Also read on Ao3

The soft glow of the hospital room cast a muted light over the sterile surroundings, the beeping of machines filling the air with a steady rhythm. Eli lay in the hospital bed, his expression a mask of stoicism as he stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

The events of the accident replayed in his mind like a broken record, the memory of the explosion haunting him like a specter in the night. He had been careless, too caught up in his work to notice the warning signs until it was too late. And now, here he was, laid up in a hospital bed with nothing but his regrets for company.

But that wasn't the worst thing—not because the physical wounds could heal, but because the emotional ones couldn't. It had been a week, a week since the accident that left Eli lying in that hospital bed, his body battered and broken. But it seemed that the real damage was to his soul.

As he lay there, staring up at the sterile ceiling, a wave of anguish washed over him. Where were they? Where were the people who were supposed to care about him, even if just a little? Deep down, he knew he didn't deserve their concern. He had been an arrogant bastard, selfish and self-absorbed, caring only about his own pursuits and pleasures. But still, the absence of anyone by his side cut deeper than any physical wound.

He didn't expect Sarah, his ex-wife, or Barkley, his son, to come visit him. They had taken the money and run, leaving him alone in more ways than one. But he had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that someone would show up. A friend, a colleague, even one of the women he had entertained himself with. Yet, it felt like no one cared about him. And the realization stung.

Eli couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. It was like being a child again, alone and isolated, ridiculed by his classmates. He remembered the sting of rejection, the ache of loneliness that gnawed at him day after day. And now, lying in that hospital bed, it felt like history was repeating itself.

He glanced around the sterile room, his gaze landing on the empty chair beside his bed. It had been vacant since the day he was admitted, a stark reminder of his solitude. He longed for someone to sit there, to hold his hand and offer words of comfort. But the chair remained empty, a silent testament to his isolation.

With a heavy sigh, Eli closed his eyes, willing the memories and the pain to fade away. But deep down, he knew that the wounds left by loneliness and abandonment would not heal easily. And as the beeping of the machines filled the air once more, Eli couldn't help but feel a sense of despair wash over him, drowning him in a sea of anguish and regret. The ache in his body paled in comparison to the hollow emptiness that gnawed at his soul, a relentless reminder of his own failings and shortcomings.

The memories of his past sins haunted him like ghosts in the night, each one a painful reminder of the wreckage he had left in his wake. He had been a man consumed by his own ambition, blinded by his relentless pursuit of success and recognition. And in his single-minded quest for greatness, he had trampled over anyone who dared to stand in his way, leaving a trail of broken hearts and shattered dreams in his wake.

But now, as he lay there, broken and alone, Eli couldn't help but wonder if it had all been worth it. The accolades and achievements that had once seemed so important now felt hollow and meaningless, nothing more than empty symbols of his own vanity and arrogance.

And as he gazed up at the sterile ceiling above him, a sense of profound despair washed over him, threatening to consume him whole. He longed for the warmth of human connection, for someone to reach out and offer him solace in his darkest hour. But the empty chair beside his bed served as a stark reminder of his solitude, a silent testament to the depths of his loneliness.

Eli's thoughts turned to Sarah and Barkley. They had been the closest thing he had ever known to love, and yet he had driven them away with his selfishness and neglect. He had taken their presence for granted, assuming that they would always be there to pick up the pieces of his shattered life. But now, as he lay there abandoned and alone, he realized the extent of his folly.

With a sense of desperation clawing at his chest, he ripped the machines attached to him, the beeping growing louder as he tore the devices from his body. Each movement sent jolts of pain shooting through his battered form, but he paid no heed to the agony, consumed by his need to escape the suffocating grip of solitude.

Weak and injured, Eli struggled to get up from the bed, his muscles protesting with every movement. The laboratory explosion had left him with burns and cuts, the wounds decorating his body like battle scars of his own making. He leaned heavily on an IV pole for support, the metal digging into his palm as he tried to steady himself.

Lines of anguish etched deep into his features, Eli's baritone voice echoed through the sterile room, a haunting melody of despair and regret. "Damn it all," he muttered through gritted teeth, his words laced with bitterness and self-loathing. "I can't stay here. I won't."

With a shaky breath, Eli pushed himself forward, each step a testament to his stubborn determination to break free from the shackles of his own making. But his body rebelled against his efforts, weakened by the trauma it had endured. Every movement was a battle, every breath a struggle as he fought to overcome the physical and emotional pain that threatened to consume him whole.

And yet, despite the odds stacked against him, Eli pressed on, driven by a fierce resolve to reclaim his freedom, no matter the cost. With each agonizing step, he felt the weight of his loneliness bearing down on him like a heavy burden, threatening to crush him beneath its suffocating embrace.

Memories of his childhood flashed before his eyes, a bittersweet reminder of a time when he had known the warmth of his mother's embrace, the comforting touch of her hand as she tended to his wounds and chased away his fears. But now, she was gone, a distant memory lost to the passage of time, leaving Eli adrift in a sea of emptiness.

With a bitter twist of irony, Eli realized that he had become the very thing he despised most—a lonely, pathetic figure yearning for the companionship he had once taken for granted. He had closed himself off to the world, erecting walls of arrogance and self-importance to shield himself from the pain of rejection and abandonment. But now, as he lay broken and alone, those walls crumbled around him, leaving him exposed and vulnerable to the harsh realities of his existence.

As he stumbled down the hallway, ignoring the nurse's futile attempts to stop him, Eli felt the weight of his own inadequacy bearing down on him like a crushing weight. His body was weak, his spirit shattered, and with each passing moment, he sank deeper into the abyss of his own despair.

And then, just when he thought he couldn't bear it any longer, Eli's legs gave out beneath him, sending him crashing to the ground in a pathetic heap of limbs and shattered pride. He lay there, sprawled out on the cold tile floor, a broken shell of the man he had once been, his baritone voice choked with anguish as he whispered words of self-condemnation into the empty void.

"I'm pathetic," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper as he gazed up at the sterile ceiling above him. "A Nobel Prize winner, revered by the world, and yet... I'm nothing but a lonely, pathetic bastard."

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he struggled to come to terms with the harsh reality of his existence. He had spent a lifetime chasing after success and recognition, believing that they held the key to happiness and fulfillment. But now, as he lay broken and alone, he realized that he had been chasing after shadows, grasping at empty promises that had crumbled to dust in his hands.

And as the nurse knelt beside him, her voice a soothing murmur in the darkness, Eli closed his eyes and surrendered to the overwhelming tide of despair that threatened to consume him whole. He knew that he was a broken man, irreparably damaged by the choices he had made and the paths he had chosen. But deep down, beneath the layers of arrogance and self-delusion, all he wanted was to be whole again, to feel the warmth of human connection and the healing touch of love.

But for Eli Michaelson, the road to redemption would be long and arduous, fraught with pitfalls and obstacles at every turn. And as he lay there, battered and broken, he knew that the journey had only just begun.

The next morning, Eli sat in silence, the dull glow of the TV flickering in the dimly lit hospital room. He picked at the unappetizing hospital food on his tray, his appetite dulled by the weight of loneliness that hung heavy in the air. He tried to convince himself that solitude was preferable, that he didn't need anyone else. But deep down, he couldn't ignore the ache in his chest, the longing for human connection that gnawed at his soul.

As he stared blankly at the screen, lost in his thoughts, the sudden forceful opening of the door startled him out of his reverie. The door slammed against the wall with a loud thud, causing Eli to turn his head towards the entrance, his curiosity piqued.

There, standing in the doorway, was a young woman, her cheeks stained with tears as she cried. Before Eli could comprehend what was happening, she ran towards him and enveloped him in a tight hug, burying her face against his chest as she sobbed uncontrollably.

Confusion washed over Eli as he awkwardly patted the young woman's back, unsure of what to do. "Uh, what's going on?" he muttered, his voice gruff with disorientation.

Pulling away from the embrace, the young woman looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, her voice trembling with emotion. "Professor Michaelson, I was so worried about you," she exclaimed, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I thought you had gone on vacation, that's why you were away from campus. But I didn't realize you were in the hospital. If I had known, I would have come sooner."

Eli's brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to place the young woman's face. Who was she, and why was she so upset about him? Pushing her hands away gently, he questioned, "Who the hell are you?"

The young woman's tears halted abruptly, replaced by a look of embarrassment as she wiped at her cheeks. "Oh, I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice small. "I'm one of your students at the university. I always sit in the front row. It's me, [Your Name]."

Eli racked his brain, trying to recall any memory of a student named [Your Name]. But the truth was, he didn't bother to remember the names of his students, unless they were the most beautiful women in his classes. And while [Your Name] was certainly adorable in her own right, she didn't fit the bill of his usual conquests.

Nevertheless, Eli put on a facade of recognition, offering a faint smile as he nodded. "Ah, yes, [Your Name]," he said, his tone somewhat forced. "Of course, I remember you now. It's good to see you."

As Eli's gaze met yours, you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness at the recognition, however brief it may be. The sound of your name rolling off his tongue in that deep, baritone voice sent a shiver down your spine, making you blush slightly at the attention.

But before you could bask in the moment, Eli's question brought you back to reality with a jolt. "Did everyone come to see me?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he glanced towards the door, as if expecting a flood of visitors at any moment.

You shook your head gently, your heart sinking at the disappointment in his eyes. "No, Professor Michaelson," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I was the only one who came."

Eli visibly deflated at your words, a sense of desolation washing over him as he processed the information. "Oh," he murmured, his voice heavy with disappointment. "No one else came."

You shifted awkwardly on your feet, feeling a pang of sympathy for the man lying before you, so vulnerable and alone. And as you stood next to Eli's hospital bed, awkwardly rubbing your arm, you felt a pang of sympathy for him. He seemed so vulnerable in that moment, his usual air of confidence replaced by a palpable sense of loneliness. You glanced down at your feet, unsure of what to say or do to comfort him.

Suddenly, Eli's voice broke the silence, pulling you out of your thoughts. "Where are the flowers?" he asked, his tone tinged with confusion.

You looked up at him, puzzled. "Huh?" you replied, furrowing your brow in confusion.

Eli insisted, his tone growing more urgent. "The flowers, the balloons, you know, all those things people bring when they visit someone in the hospital."

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you stuttered apologetically, "Oh, I... I was so worried, I didn't even think about it."

Eli's arrogant smile softened at your words, his expression betraying a hint of curiosity. "You were worried? About me?" he asked, genuine surprise coloring his tone.

You shifted nervously on your feet, feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze. "Um, yeah," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, I know we don't really know each other that well, but... I guess I just didn't want you to feel alone."

You felt a rush of embarrassment wash over you. You couldn't help but feel pathetic standing there in front of your crush, blushing furiously as you struggled to find the right words to say. Deciding to make a hasty retreat, you turned around, mumbling something about leaving. But before you could take a step, Eli practically shouted, "Wait!"

Startled, you turned back to face him, surprise written across your features. "I mean... wait," Eli amended, his tone softer this time. "I... I don't actually mind having company. I've been getting bored of watching TV all day."

Relief flooded through you as you realized that Eli didn't want you to leave. With a shy smile, you nodded and took a seat in the empty chair beside his bed, grateful for the opportunity to keep him company during his time of need.

And as you settled into the chair beside Eli's hospital bed, you couldn't shake the feeling of awkwardness that hung in the air between the two of you. The conversation was stilted at first, filled with hesitant pauses and forced smiles as you struggled to find common ground. But as the minutes passed, you found yourselves falling into an easy rhythm, chatting about anything and everything under the sun.

"So, I heard Professor Hart is filling in for you," you began, trying to steer the conversation away from the uncomfortable topic of Eli's hospitalization. "He seems... interesting."

Eli chuckled softly at your remark, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Interesting is one way to describe him," he replied, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "But I suppose he'll do in a pinch."

You nodded in agreement, relieved that Eli seemed willing to engage in conversation despite the circumstances. "Yeah, I heard he's a bit eccentric," you remarked, trying to keep the conversation light. "But hey, at least he keeps things entertaining."

Eli's lips twitched into a wry smile at your comment, his gaze drifting towards the TV screen as if seeking refuge from the awkwardness of the moment. "Entertaining is one way to put it," he mused, his tone tinged with amusement. "But I suppose we'll survive until I'm back on my feet."

You couldn't help but chuckle at Eli's dry sense of humor, grateful for the brief moment of levity amidst the somber atmosphere of the hospital room. "Oh, I'm sure we'll manage," you quipped, a playful glint in your eye. "But I have to admit, I do miss your classes. Chemistry just isn't the same without you."

Eli's expression softened at your words, a hint of genuine warmth shining through his usually stoic demeanor. "Well, I'm flattered to hear that," he replied, his voice tinged with sincerity. "Chemistry is my passion, after all. It's nice to know that someone appreciates my efforts."

You blushed at the unexpected praise, feeling a rush of warmth spread through your cheeks. "Well, I've always enjoyed your classes," you admitted, unable to hide the smile that tugged at your lips. "Chemistry has always been my favorite subject."

Eli's eyes sparkled with amusement at your confession, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Is that so?" he teased, his tone laced with playful curiosity. "Well, I suppose I'll have to make sure to put on a good show when I return, then."

You laughed at Eli's playful banter, grateful for the distraction it provided from the seriousness of the situation. But as the conversation turned back to Eli's accident, you couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for him.

"So, how exactly did the accident happen?" you asked, your voice laced with genuine curiosity. "Was it some sort of experiment gone wrong?"

Eli waved off your question dismissively, as if it were of little consequence. "Oh, nothing too dramatic," he replied nonchalantly. "Just a minor mishap in the lab. These things happen from time to time."

You raised an eyebrow skeptically at Eli's casual response, unable to shake the feeling that he was downplaying the severity of the situation. "Just a minor mishap, huh?" you remarked, unable to hide the hint of skepticism in your voice. "Are you sure you're not secretly plotting to take over the world with your evil experiments?"

Eli's expression darkened at your joke, a shadow passing over his features as he regarded you with a serious look. "I assure you, [Your Name], there's nothing nefarious about my work," he replied, his tone grave. "I may have made some mistakes along the way, but I've always strived to use my knowledge for the greater good."

You winced at the sudden shift in tone, realizing that you had touched a nerve with your flippant remark. "I'm sorry, Professor," you apologized quickly, feeling a pang of guilt for making light of the situation. "I didn't mean to imply anything... I was just trying to lighten the mood."

Eli's expression softened at your apology, realizing that you were just trying to lighten the mood. With a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes, he decided to play along with your joke, his humor dry as he quipped, "Well, I suppose if I'm going to be a mad scientist, I'll have to start practicing my evil laugh, won't I?"

Your smile widened at Eli's response, grateful that he wasn't holding your jest against you. The tension in the room dissipated as the two of you shared a moment of lighthearted banter, the heaviness of the situation momentarily forgotten.

But before the conversation could continue, the door to the hospital room swung open, revealing a nurse standing in the doorway. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but visiting hours are over," she announced, her voice gentle but firm. "I'll have to ask you to leave, [Your Name]."

You felt a pang of disappointment at the nurse's words, reluctant to leave Eli's side so soon. But you knew that you had to respect the rules of the hospital, no matter how much you wished to stay.

With a heavy sigh, you stood up from the chair beside Eli's bed, turning to face him with a small smile. "I guess I'll have to save my evil scientist jokes for next time," you remarked, trying to lighten the mood once more.

Eli's hand shot out, grabbing yours before you could take another step towards the door. Startled, you turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden gesture.

"Will you... will you visit me again tomorrow?" Eli asked, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I know it's a lot to ask, but... I'd really appreciate the company."

You felt your heart skip a beat at Eli's request, a rush of warmth spreading through you at the thought of seeing him again. Despite his arrogant facade, there was something undeniably endearing about the vulnerability in his eyes, something that made you want to reach out and offer him the comfort he so desperately craved.

With a soft smile, you nodded in response to Eli's question. "Of course, Professor Michaelson," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity. "I'll come visit you again tomorrow."

Eli's grip on your hand loosened, his expression softening at your words. "Thank you," he murmured, a hint of gratitude shining in his eyes. "I'll be looking forward to it."

As you turned to leave the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within you. Despite the chaos and uncertainty of the situation, you found yourself eagerly counting down the minutes until you could see Eli again, eager to offer him the companionship and support he so desperately needed.

And as you walked out of the hospital room, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, in the midst of all the chaos, you had found something unexpected—a connection that had the potential to grow into something truly meaningful.

The next day, Eli waited anxiously in his hospital room, his eyes fixed on the clock ticking away on the wall. With every passing hour, his hope dwindled, replaced by a growing sense of anger and despair. Why would you come? You barely knew him, and he barely knew you. He should have been grateful for your visit yesterday, shouldn't he?

As the day wore on, Eli's frustration mounted, each minute stretching out like an eternity as he waited in vain for your arrival. With each passing hour, he felt the weight of his loneliness pressing down on him, suffocating him with its relentless grip. He cursed himself for his foolishness, for allowing himself to hope for something that was clearly never going to happen.

Finally, unable to bear the silence and solitude any longer, Eli turned away from the door and lay on his side, his back to the room. He felt pathetic, longing for a visit from someone he barely knew. This was pathetic, he scolded himself silently, his thoughts filled with self-loathing and bitterness.

But just as Eli was on the verge of giving up hope entirely, he heard a soft voice calling his name from the doorway. Startled, he turned to see you standing there, a hesitant smile on your lips as you held out a bouquet of flowers and three brightly colored balloons.

For a moment, Eli was speechless, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to process the sight before him. You had come, despite everything. A surge of gratitude washed over him, mingled with a sense of disbelief. Why would you go out of your way to visit him again?

As you stepped into the room, Eli found himself nodding dumbly, unable to find the words to express his gratitude. You smiled at him warmly, your eyes filled with kindness and compassion as you made your way to his bedside. "Mind if I come in?" you asked softly, your voice breaking through the haze of Eli's thoughts.

Eli shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he gestured for you to take a seat. "Please, come in," he replied, his baritone voice tinged with emotion.

As you settled into the chair beside his bed, Eli couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth spreading through him at your presence. Despite his initial doubts and insecurities, you had come back to visit him, offering him a glimmer of light in the darkness of his solitude.

"Thank you for coming," Eli murmured, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I... I didn't expect to see you again."

You smiled at him, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand in reassurance. "I promised I would, didn't I?" you replied, your voice soft but sincere. "And I always keep my promises."

Eli's heart swelled at your words, a rush of warmth spreading through him at the sincerity in your voice. For the first time in days, he felt a flicker of hope stirring within him, a glimmer of light breaking through the darkness of his despair.

As the two of you settled into conversation, the awkwardness of the situation melted away, replaced by an easy camaraderie and mutual understanding. Despite the brevity of your acquaintance, there was a connection between you that transcended the confines of the hospital room, a shared bond forged in the crucible of adversity.

As the days turned into weeks, Eli found himself growing accustomed to your presence in his hospital room. Despite his initial reservations, he couldn't deny the comfort and companionship you provided, even if it was accompanied by your playful teasing and irreverent humor.

Eli maintained his usual arrogance, his sharp wit and biting sarcasm ever-present, but somehow, it didn't seem to matter as much when you were around. You saw beyond his facade, recognizing the vulnerability and loneliness that lurked beneath his confident exterior. And in return, you became a facade for Eli, a shield against the harsh realities of his situation, a source of laughter and light in the darkness of his solitude.

Day after day, for two weeks, you came faithfully at the usual time, visiting Eli and spending quality time with him. You brought him books to read, engaging him in lively debates about science and literature. You even brought in a chess set, challenging him to matches that often ended in laughter and playful banter.

As the days passed, you grew closer to Eli, sharing stories and secrets, hopes and dreams. You learned about his childhood, his struggles and triumphs, his deepest fears and regrets. And in turn, Eli learned about you, your ambitions and aspirations, your quirks and idiosyncrasies.

But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, there was an unspoken tension lingering between you—a secret crush that neither of you dared to acknowledge aloud. You admired Eli for his intellect and charisma, his sharp wit and unwavering determination. And Eli, in turn, found himself drawn to you, captivated by your kindness and compassion, your irreverent humor and genuine warmth.

One day, as you sat beside Eli's hospital bed, engaged in a spirited debate about the merits of chess, you found yourself slipping up and calling him "mad scientist" in jest. Eli's hooked nose wrinkled in mock annoyance, his lips twitching with amusement as he grumbled, "I'll have you know, Miss [Your Name], that I am not a mad scientist. I am a highly respected Nobel laureate in the field of chemistry."

You couldn't help but laugh at Eli's mock indignation, knowing full well that he secretly relished the nickname you had given him. "Of course, Professor Snape," you replied, a mischievous glint in your eye. "I'll make sure to deduct points from Gryffindor as soon as you return to the university."

Eli spat dismissively, a playful twinkle in his eye as he retorted, "Ah, so you admit it. You're a Gryffindor through and through with that insolence."

You laughed out loud at Eli's response, the sound echoing through the hospital room as you shook your head in amusement. "Guilty as charged," you admitted, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "But you have to admit, Professor Snape, it suits you."

Eli rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, but there was a hint of affection in his expression as he gazed at you. "Well, if I must suffer the indignity of being compared to a fictional character, I suppose I could do worse than Severus Snape," he conceded, his baritone voice tinged with amusement.

And as the two of you settled back into your usual routine, the playful banter and easy camaraderie filling the room with warmth and laughter, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected bond that had formed between you and Eli. Despite his flaws and imperfections, there was something undeniably endearing about him—a complexity and depth that drew you in, leaving you eager to spend every moment you could by his side.

Days later, Eli was finally discharged from the hospital, his body still weak but his spirit buoyed by the knowledge that he was finally free from the confines of the sterile hospital room. With a newfound sense of purpose, he made his way back to the university, determined to reclaim his rightful place as the esteemed professor and Nobel laureate he knew himself to be.

As he stepped into the familiar confines of the classroom, Eli couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation coursing through his veins. He straightened his shoulders, his hooked nose held high as he prepared to make his grand entrance, ready to bask in the adulation of his students and colleagues.

With a flourish, Eli stormed into the classroom, his baritone voice echoing off the walls as he demanded a round of applause for himself. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have returned!" he announced, his voice filled with arrogant confidence. "I expect nothing less than a standing ovation for my triumphant return."

The room erupted into applause, the sound filling the air with a cacophony of cheers and whistles as Eli reveled in the attention. He opened his arms wide, a self-satisfied smile playing on his lips as he basked in the adoration of his audience, soaking in the applause like a man starved for validation.

But amidst the sea of faces applauding his return, Eli's eyes landed on a familiar figure seated in the front row—the same figure who had visited him faithfully in the hospital, offering him companionship and support during his darkest hours.

With a discreet wink, Eli acknowledged you, a silent gesture of gratitude and appreciation for the unwavering support you had shown him. And as he watched the smile spread across your face, a warmth blossomed in his chest, filling him with a sense of belonging and acceptance he had never known before.

As the applause finally died down and the class settled into their seats, Eli launched into his lecture with renewed fervor, his voice commanding the attention of every student in the room. But amidst the complex equations and scientific theories, his thoughts kept drifting back to you, the one person who had stood by him when he needed it most.

And as he caught your eye once more, Eli couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over him, knowing that he wasn't alone anymore. With you by his side, he felt invincible, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead with unwavering confidence and determination.

As the class drew to a close and the students filed out of the room, Eli lingered behind, waiting for you to approach him. And when you finally did, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, he couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness welling up inside him.

"Thank you," Eli murmured, his voice tinged with sincerity. "For everything."

You smiled back at him, a warmth shining in your eyes as you replied, "Anytime, Professor Michaelson. Anytime."

And as the two of you stood there, sharing a moment of quiet understanding, Eli knew that no matter what the future held, he would always have you by his side, a beacon of light in the darkness, guiding him towards a brighter tomorrow.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #eli michaelson x reader #eli michaelson #nobel son #severus snape

36 notes · View notes

jgracie · 7 hours

Text

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ WHO’S GONNA KNOW YOU? (ME.)

↳ the chronicles of jj & smartiepants!

(american)footballer!jason grace x fem!reader

masterlist | rules

on the radio . . . the tortured poets department (taylor swift)

an SHES BACKKK!!!!! anw the song isn’t really their vibe i just got that line from there in case anyone was wondering!

you and jason have been through a lot together

from meeting in high school under the pouring rain, when he was the captain of jupiter high’s football team and you were just the new girl who transferred all the way from new york in an attempt to escape your past, to eventually dating, graduating high school and university and moving into your first apartment, it was safe to say neither one of you was going anywhere

which was why it was only natural for jason to propose to you eventually. if he could’ve had it his way, the two of you would’ve been married as soon as you threw your graduation caps up at the sky, but he he had to be patient. marriage was serious (jason knew this all too well, having seen how his own mother’s marriages turned out) and he wanted the two of you to be fully settled into your new lives outside of school before starting your journey as mr and mrs grace

so, he bided his time. he focused on his career, wanting to build the perfect life for the two of you in the future, getting into an nfl team right after university and beginning to write his own book only a year later. he also focused on your career, maybe a little more than his own - he couldn’t help it, his love for you transcended the heavens themselves and he couldn’t be prouder of you for growing into the woman you currently are

since he loved you so dearly, jason’s first ever book was obviously going to be written about you. more specifically, your story and how you brought life into jason’s existence the moment your destinies intertwined. said first ever book was also finally going to be published in a week, and with the two of you being at the height of all aspects of life, there was no better time for jason to pop the question

he made a special copy just for you, with a note written at the end, and asked you to read it, feigning uncertainty about his writing despite having gone over it with his editors several times. how could you say no to those sweet, baby blue eyes?

every time jason saw you reading his book, he felt his heart beat faster at the knowledge of what was at the very end of it. he’d already asked you to let him know when you got close to the end as according to him, there was a part he had to see your reaction to (not a complete lie, for jason could never lie to you). it only took you three days to reach the final chapter out of excitement for what jason could’ve written

“okay, i’m gonna read it now…” you said, a grin on your face as you reached for the book on your bedside table. jason sat to you on your bed, a velvet box with the ring of your dreams sitting prettily in the pocket of his sweatpants. he bit his lip, trying his hardest to calm his nerves down

this didn’t go unnoticed by you. looking up to see him in his state, your brows furrowed and you scooted closer to your soon to be fiancé, delicately cupping his head with your hand, “hey, i’m sure it’ll be really good, you’re a natural at writing, jase!” you gave him a soft smile and didn’t continue reading until he nodded and smiled back

the last chapter was short and nearly brought you to tears, but what really started the waterworks was the note written at the end

y/n, i have loved you from the moment i saw the smile on your face when i offered to walk you home under my umbrella. you may not know this, but i actually lived in the complete opposite direction to your home at the time, and i didn’t get home until the sun set that day. however, i couldn’t be happier. as i lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling of my room, i realized i’d walk to the ends of the earth if it meant i’d get to see your smile. no one has known me the way you do, and i don’t think anyone ever will, my very heart and soul belong to you and you alone. so, will you let me do the honours of becoming your husband and spending the rest of eternity going wherever you go?

PS. this isn’t actually getting published. it’s too intimate of a moment for me to do so, and i know we’d both hate it

PPS. if you don’t want to get married, i understand

your smile was wobbly as you looked at jason through tear-filled eyes. your sweet jason, who was currently tearing up himself as he presented the most gorgeous wedding ring to you

putting the book aside, you jumped into his arms and peppered his face with kisses, your tears mixing with his own as you did so. pulling away, you said, “of course i’ll marry you, jason! you’re an idiot for that last comment,” the two of you laughed then, and, finally having released your energy, you lay in bed with your head on jason’s chest and his arms wrapped around your waist

placing a kiss on the top of your head, jason grinned at you and said, “well, i’m your idiot now, aren’t i, smartiepants?”

“you’ve always been my idiot, silly,” you replied, a sigh of pure joy escaping your lips. despite the anticipation of the new journey you and jason were beginning together, the two of you found sleep immediately, dreaming of each other under the moonlit sky

#jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace x fem reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #jason grace fanfic #pjo fanfic #jason grace drabble #jason grace blurb #cynwrites #˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ jj & smartiepants

37 notes · View notes

iamleesi · 14 hours

Text

THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER

Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader

Summary: You have some kind of nightmare and Bucky wakes you up but he’s still a prick and you have a fight.

Warnings: Flashback, mention of experiments, hydra facility, creepy stuff and I probably forgot something so forgive me. -> 18+ !!

Other: English isn’t my fist language so I apologize for eventual mistakes.

-> Masterlist

-> Part three ; Part five

-> Nonie (04)

A little you was sitting in the corner of your room. The place you called home was clean and sterile, empty of any unnecessary comforts - not that you knew what the word truly meant. The only source of light was coming from the single light bulb hung from the ceiling, and your bed - big enough to at least fit you - was pushed against a wall, it’s thin mattress covered in white sheets.

The walls were bare; you were not given anything normal kids your age had to at least make it seem more than just a prison. It was naked of any type of decoration, no pictures or paintings… just plain grey. And you loved it.

One day, your usual routine was changed. Up until then you had been alone, the only people you talked to were the scientists and Mrs White who came in to see how you were doing and tell you all about the process they were making thanks to you. But that day, you remember the sound of that huge, scratched iron door open and an Hydra agent escorting a girl into the room.

Not a word was exchanged before you and the new person were left alone. To be honest, you were curious but also confused - why did they brought her in all of a sudden? Was she another special girl? Were you not good enough anymore? You didn’t like that idea.

You watched as she went to sit on the other corner of the room, her head low, and you spent the whole day listening to her sobbing. Why was she crying, you did not know. How could she cry when she was in the safest place on earth?

Ungrateful. And she was evidently older than you, maybe sixteen or even seventeen - she should have understood her worth already at that age.

In the days that followed, you learned absolutely nothing about her. She never spoke and she spent most of her time confined to her side of the room - she wasn’t even given a mattress, and she did nothing to let you know if perhaps she was tired of sleeping on the floor. All you heard were her hums at night, melodies you didn’t know.

But for some reason, you liked having her there.

Eventually, days turned into weeks and your curiosity towards her only grew and it almost became an obsession - you wanted to get her to talk but never succeeded. Each day, like a clockwork, the girl was escorted out of the room by Hydra agents and each day, when she would return, her demeanor grew more unsettling.

“And so today Mrs White gave me a candy. She said I deserved it after I found where those criminals were hiding.” You said, hopping onto your bed as you stared at her - she was finally given one too, and now she did nothing rather than lay on it as days passed by. “Did she ever give you a candy? The one that looks like a bear - have you ever seen a bear?”

At your questions, all you could hear was nothing except her breathing. There wasn’t even a window in there. “Oh, yeah. You don’t talk. Mrs White says that when people ignore you, they are being extremely dis- dispec - I don’t remember the word she used. But it’s not nice!”

Nothing. She didn’t even blink, sometimes you had to walk over there to check if she was still breathing. “Whatever.” You sighed. “I’ll bring you a candy next time I’m done with a successful mission. Maybe you’ll talk to me. Or I can steal one - maybe I could. I don’t know. What do you think? Do you want a candy?”

Silence.

“Alright. Then I’ll bring you one.” You smiled at her. “But you need to tell me your name, I can’t keep referring to you as the ‘new girl’, it’s been… I don’t know. But surely more than a day!”

The girl stayed silent. Her eyes fixated on the ceiling.

“Mrs White says my blood is fundamental for whatever they’re working on, you know? We’re here to save the world.” You continued. “She said there are some people who don’t want that, like Natasha Romanoff. The prodigy of the Red Room, have you ever met her? She came here a few years ago and taught me how to shoot properly. And now, turns out that she’s been corrupted.” You sighed “You’re a great listener, at least.” You turned around, giving your back to her. Maybe she just didn’t like you.

Still, no response. Not even a hum of acknowledgement.

Your frustration mounted with each passing day, your attempts to communicate with her were always ignored and you were met with nothing but silence.

“Is there something wrong, kid?” One of Hydra’s agents, Ezra you had learnt, asked you one day as he was escorting you back to your room after another evening of restless training. You had to be at your best, they said, all the time.

“No.” You sighed, as your body felt like burning - that day they had gone heavy on you, but you managed well. You were the only survivor, as per usual. “When can I go outside? I want to help on the field.”

“Soon enough, kid. We have a problem in stars and stripes to take care of. Mrs White believes you can do it.”

You felt a sense of pride in you at his words. That man, they called him Captain America, was a heavy problem for the world. He was the one who kept ruining any attempt to make the world a better place, always stepping in to cause chaos. He needed to be eliminated and you wished it would be you to do so, after all you had the skills to do it.

“Then I won’t disappoint her.”

Once you got back to your room with the biggest grin ever, you saw Nonie - as you nicknamed her - sitting on her bed with her back on the wall, staring straight ahead of her. You sat right in her line of view, which was on your mattress, crossing your legs one over the other. “Guess what?”

Blank stare.

“I’ll kill Mr Captain America one of these days. I know I’m not as skilled as Winter is, but I can do it. I know I can.” You started to ramble convinced that she wouldn’t pay attention to you since she never did, but soon enough, too focused on your own words, you felt a hand on your tight.

A cold, almost imperceptible touch. She had walked towards you, kneeling down in the end as her legs were too weak to hold her light weight for longer than a few steps.

You stared into her soulless eyes for a moment, before she shook her head.

“No? What - what do you mean no?” You looked at her dumbfounded. “You don’t want me to kill him? Nonie, I h-”

But before you could continue, she crawled back to her bed in the same position she was in. You stayed silent too, for a moment. For a long, tense moment.

“So you can understand what I’m saying! You can hear me!” You realized, getting up. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

Nonie made a movement with her pale hand to tell you to get closer to her - which you did without second thinking. Those few steps felt like happening in slow motion and once you were right in front of her, she raised that same hand to her mouth; her fingers grazing the edge of her lips.

You frowned, but you didn’t have the time to utter a word that she stuck out her tongue - or what was left of it.

≈

“For fuck’s sake - Emma!” Your eyes snapped open at Bucky’s voice, your heart racing in your chest as you sat up in bed, your forehead almost colliding against his.

You couldn’t help but dream about her, giving what you and Dean had saw just hours prior. She always came back into your memories one way or another, whether it was with a nightmare or just with a simple thought during the day - she was always there, in the back of your mind. And no matter how much years had passed since then, Nonie wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Bucky spoke again with a sharp tone. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I’ve been trying to wake you up the whole night.”

You blinked in confusion, caught off guard by his harsh tone and the fact that he was sitting so close to you. “I’m sorry.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “I had a nightmare.”

Bucky’s expression unexpectedly softened, though you could still sense some irritation. You knew he had trouble sleeping too, and waking up in the middle of the night due to someone else’s problems wasn’t really ideal. “Nightmare, huh? Great, now we’re both awake.”

You closed your eyes and took a breath for a moment as you tried to find the right words to say. You never meant to disturb him but you could not control how your mind worked - and Wanda wasn’t even there to help you. Sometimes you gave her permission to get inside your head and erase the bad memories for one night so you could properly rest, but she wasn’t with you and so you had to do it alone. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Bucky let out a heavy sigh, his demeanor softening ever so slightly. “Look, I’m sorry for snapping at you.” He admitted gruffly. He better than anyone could understand how you mist be feeling, and he could have approached it better. “It’s been a long day and I guess I’m just on edge.”

You huffed. “Believe me, I know.”

Bucky exhaled as he was still sitting on your bed, the situation becoming awkward. He got up, but didn’t leave quite yet. You saw some uncertainty in his eyes before he spoke again.

“Food always helps me with nightmares.” He cleared his throat, his tone softer than before. But not much, he was still Bucky Barnes after all. “Come downstairs with me. Dean left some pizza in the fridge before leaving.”

You noticed you were hungry now that he mentioned food. Once you and Dean got home after the investigation, still unsure of what you saw - or, rather, still hoping your mind had played an awful joke on you, you went straight in your room. You had left the task to explain things to Sam and Bucky to Dean.

“One thing I learned about Dean is that he becomes a mad man if someone touches his food.” You let out a small chuckle, getting up the bed.

“He left it for you.” Bucky admitted.

“Oh.” That was surprising. “I was going to eat it anyway but I will feel less guilty knowing it was already mine.”

Together you made your way downstairs to the kitchen, the silence was oddly comfortable for once. You sat down while Bucky took the pizza box from the fridge and tossed it your way. Action you thanked with a smile.

He rummaged through the cabinets searching for something to eat himself. He sat on the chair beside yours with a box of homemade biscuits - wait, homemade biscuits?

“The old lady that lives on the other side of the street brought these over today, when you and Dean were at the Miller’s house.” He explained after reading your expression. “We’re invited at her niece’s birthday party this weekend, by the way. I said yes.”

You being invited to a party full of strangers wasn’t really on the list of the things you liked to do since you were as social as a rock but what you wanted went into the toilet the second you became an Avenger. Like that time you and Pietro were sent on a mission on a yacht - you were scared as hell of the sea after a certain God of Mischief made you watch Titanic changing the finale with your face instead of Rose’s. But that was another story.

“Great.” You sighed.

“So, the investigation. How did it go? You came home quite traumatized.” He raised a brow, and you didn’t miss the judgement in his tone.

You stiffened for a second, your mind went inevitably back there just as soon as you were starting to think about something else. “I wasn’t traumatized. I just… if you had seen that, you would have understood.”

Bucky scoffed. “What? Seeing the breakdown of an hysterical old lady after she lost her daughter doesn’t seem so terrible compared to what we’re used to, come on now.”

You frowned. That was the last of your concerns, you weren’t a therapist or something but a breakdown was certainly not that woman’s biggest problem. “Dean didn’t- he didn’t tell you everything?”

It was Bucky’s time to frown. “He told us what happened. You two arrived there, the woman was obviously grieving her missing daughter and she had a break down after asking one too many questions which led to her kicking you out.” He reassumed everything Dean had said. “Isn’t that all?”

You gulped. Dean kept his mouth shut about that, and you wondered why. Bucky knew what Hydra was capable of, but that? That was something beyond imaginable. Still, before talking to Bucky about it you wanted to know why Dean kept it a secret and why he didn’t seem to freak out as any other normal person would - beside you.

“No, that’s all.” You said after a moment, sounding as sincere as possible. “It’s just… her daughter’s probably dead and… and seeing her reaction wasn’t easy.”

“Mh.” He nodded, seeming to believe you. “Rich coming from you.” He said after, turning back into himself - for a second there you almost forgot how infuriating he was.

“Excuse me?”

“Rich coming from you.” He repeated casually. “Didn’t you use to kidnap people yourself for Hydra? Or maybe… bring back the ones lucky enough to break free from their control?

You stayed momentarily silent. “No.” You answered. “I never kidnapped anyone or brought back anyo- what the fuck is your problem, man?”

“I have absolutely zero problems, but I wonder if you even have the right to feel bad when you used to do the same to innocent people - willingly.” His tone was as light as if he was talking about a damn football game.

“You killed dozens of people too.”

“I was brainwashed, and I feel guilty enough. You were not.” He fired back. “And you never apologized.”

“I was a fucking child, Barnes.” You reminded him, clenching your jaw. “I thought I was doing the right thing by complying, just like you were!”

“I know that, Dayne, I’m not an idiot. But you’ve been indoctrinated with their ideas all your life, which is exactly why I wonder how the fuck it is that you’re on our side now.” He said, leaning back on the chair. “I’m not attacking you, just curious.”

“It’s been ten years, it took me a long time to see things the right way.” You said, really stopping the urge to flip the table and walk out dramatically. “And it looks like an attack to me.”

“It’s not.” He remarked. “You know, Rumlow was a SHIELD agent while being loyal to Hydra. If he did it, I won’t get off the table the fact that you could be doing the same.”

“I never joined Hydra willingly, I was born there!” You shot back to that lunatic asshole. “Rumlow joined those people because he believed in their ideas, to me their ideas were the only thing I’ve ever known! Excuse me if I didn’t know a difference between the good and the bad when I was told that killing people was the only way humanity could survive!”

He sighed at that. Maybe he had been too harsh?

“You’ve been brainwashed in a way, and I in another. If you think I’m some kind of monster for what I did or I cannot be trusted, then we may not be so different.” You spat while pulling yourself up from the chair with force, the legs scrapping against the floor. “And if you wake me up again I’ll stick that metal arm up your ass.”

With that, you left him in the kitchen alone. Fuck him and fuck whatever his problem was.

18 notes · View notes

isthoughts · 6 months

Text

Regulus is such a looser, I love him more than life itself

32 notes · View notes

hamable · 2 months

Text

You’re Ruben Hopclap. You’re a teen rock star headlining a local festival. Your interim principal attempts to kill you multiple times. The elusive crush you wrote all your songs about vanishes with some other kids and returns covered in gore. The most popular guy in school jumps fifteen feet in the air, turns to you with a smirk and says, “I’m actually a huge fan,” and spears said principal through the core. Your crush boards a bus going who knows where. Someone gets on a mic and tells everyone to go home. It’s been four minutes.

#I want Ruben to have a little crush on Fabian am I crazy #fhjy #fantasy high #dimension 20 #fantasy high junior year #I think Ruben can have a little bi crisis as a treat #even for just a moment #the most popular jock ultimate legend straight As football captain hero just saved his life #he’s allowed to lay in bed tonight staring at the ceiling like ‘uh oh’#fantasy high spoilers #fhjy spoilers #fantasy high junior year spoilers

5K notes · View notes

willowser · 1 month

Text

i really think having an emotional connection is so important to bakugou sexually.

like, i think he has to be in the exact right mood in order to get off by himself at home alone. can't be too tired, can't be too stressed out, can't have too much on his mind regarding work or other things, and even if it's been a while and his body is sensitive and wanting for it—if his head is not right, he can sit there for hours and never reach his peak.

which is why i think ultimately he doesn't do it that often, because it pisses him off to waste the time and not find the release. makes him more agitated. i think porn for the most part doesn't help him because he's too picky, literature probably helps a bit more, but he's still picky, and his imagination can get him there, but his headspace has to be right.

i think he's slow to hands-on stuff, when your relationship starts, and you can tell he's going to be like that pretty quickly. he responds to your touch like it's an accident; you reach out to hold his hand and he pulls his back like your knuckles have knocked by chance, like you're too close. it's not meant to be a rejection of any kind, it's just—he doesn't want you to touch him if you don't want to. if you don't mean to.

but when he realizes that you mean to, that you want to—

it has him skyrocketing. surprises him terribly, the affect you have on his body, and how quickly, because not even he can always have that affect on his own body.

you reach up to push some hair out of his face and your fingers skirt his cheekbone and he feels like a stupid gross disgusting puddle of mush. you loop your arm through his and lean into him while you're walking and he feels like a prize, like he's yours and you're his and you want everybody to know and that gives him a rush of pride that makes his head woozy.

he's dropping you off at home after date number he-doesn't-know and you're staring up at him outside your front door and he knows he should kiss you so he does and his whole body lights up with a heat he doesn't recognize at all. just from that.

and then he finally gets it: that heart-aching, stomach turning, body shaking want he's only ever heard about, and now finally feels.

#UGH you make him feel like he's going insane #he's laying in bed at night wide awake staring at the ceiling wondering if there's something wrong with him LOL #should he be thinking about you this much ? it can't be healthy to think about you THIS MUCH right ?#something HAS to be wrong with him bc why is he thinking about you smiling at him and laughing at some not-funny joke you made and #WANTING TO RIP OUT OF HIS SKIN RAAAAHHHHH #he wants to blast himself into the sun he's CRAZY #oh man i love him so #HE makes ME insane #✿ thoughts: bakugou

1K notes · View notes

tizzymcwizzy · 1 year

Text

i am once again thinking about this scene from season 2

#i was thinking about this scene recently‚ like laying in bed staring at the ceiling thinking about this scene intense #this one is waayy messier than usual sorry i was extremely lazy #i was gonna clean it up and then i lost steam #ml #mlb #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #ladynoir #chat noir #glaciator #ml leak free #my art #THE GRIP THAT THEY HAVE ON ME

2K notes · View notes

cinnamonest · 10 months

Text

Yandere Profile - Kaveh

Happy birthday baby boy. Angel. Blessed boy. I want to hold his face in my hands and squish. I love a man that's just a lil bit pathetic, as all men should be. If I can't occasionally point at a man and laugh what's even the point

(Also I added a question to the list that I'll be using in all future profiles as well ^_^)

//dubcon/noncon, yandere, fem reader, manipulative behavior, n/s/fw section + implications/mentions of not sfw throughout

------

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Kaveh falls head over heels, face-first, and he tries so, so hard. It's pitiful, really.

He's somewhat on the milder side in terms of what he'll actually do to you and others, provided you comply with him and don't give him reasons to become worse. He's just... very, very intense. In lots of ways, he's a very ideal partner to have, so much so that there's a very good chance you'll end up together of your own volition, making him more of an over-attached boyfriend than a stalker from a distance.

At the very least, even if not a romantic partnership, he will surely become an active part of your life very quickly. Which you likely won't mind, given his pleasant disposition and empathetic nature. What's not to like? Compared to a roster full of individuals ranging anywhere from unhinged and violent to cold or cruel to prideful and infuriating, Kaveh feels like a breath of fresh air. He's considerate, he's empathetic, he really likes making you happy. He recognizes his feelings very early on and has no trouble understanding them, so there's not a lot of time that passes between meeting you and trying to get closer to you. It doesn't take a lot to get him infatuated, either, namely just showing him some kindness.

A waitress or bartender that he sees regularly that's always sweet to him, a stranger that calls out to him to give him something he dropped, a former classmate he still sees around sometimes, pretty much anything, he just latches on to any gesture or display of kindness or affection. Kaveh has the same vibe as a stray cat -- you feed it once, and watch it come back again and again until it just decides to permanently stick around you, only he feeds off of smiles and nice words and gestures. He's always conveniently showing up where you are, trying to brush it off as if he's surprised to see you there.

And again, it's head over heels, boy is in love, the sort of love where he's going around in this smiling daze all the time, mind off somewhere else to the point that he hmm?'s every time someone is trying to talk to him. He asks around about you to people who know you, starts showing up a short ways outside your door and greeting you in the mornings (you never told him where you live, though), starts making small mistakes in his work that he has to go back and fix because his mind was preoccupied with you. He also starts following you around a bit, just to a degree that he feels is still normal. He's not, like, some creep or anything.

Which is how he rationalizes things to himself -- he's well aware of his own feelings, yes, and he's not really a full-blown delusional type per se, but he does have a tendency to rationalize abnormal actions to himself, convince himself that certain things he does are okay or normal or reasonable when they very much are not. Or sometimes, he can acknowledge something is in fact not normal or okay, but he lies to himself that it's just this once and he won't do it again (he will), that everyone makes poor decisions or does some not-so-good things every now and then, or that he's doing what he does for good reasons, which justifies the action itself. It's a specific sort of delusion wherein he maintains lucidity and objective perception of everything else -- he doesn't think that everyone else who likes you is actually super evil and has malicious intent if they clearly don't, nor does he convince himself that you must love him, or anything like that -- it's limited to rationalizing his own actions.

And even then, it's fairly weak, not so much true delusion, because in the back of his mind, he doesn't actually believe it, it's just what he tells himself for a time to feel better about what he does. Even so, it can't last forever, and eventually he gives up and just has to live with the guilt. Thus, it gradually progresses to following you more and more, taking some things that won't be missed, and maybe he might or might not have climbed into your room and laid on your bed for a while because you left the window unlocked. Which is bad, but he won't do it again, it was just a one-time thing, really.

While he does rationalize acts he knows are considered "bad," he also engages in other behaviors he isn't quite as self-aware of, including both clingy tendencies as well as other behaviors that aren't noticed by anyone else, but he fails to stop and realize how abnormal and unwell said behaviors are. For the clinginess aspect, the closer to you he gets, the more comfortable he gets with complaining about his frustrations and stressors onto you, and frankly, he can get a bit whiny. It's not intentional, it's just that he doesn't have a lot of outlets, and he's under so much stress and you're so nice to him and you don't stop him from drinking so he just starts to go on and on and on, eventually leaning over onto you as he continues on about his woes. Sometimes for very long periods of time, if you don't stop him. He likes the attention and sympathy you never fail to give him.

Which tends to happen a lot anyway, since you notice the poor thing seems rather prone to misfortune and mishap, at least whenever you see him. There was that time he showed up to you all scraped up, forearms covered in little cuts because of, when you inquired, apparently helping that traveler friend of his fight some common criminals as part of some mission or another. He didn't bother to take care of the wounds in any way, seeing as they were fairly minor, but you started fussing about infections and insisted he come over and sit down and let you wrap them up and treat it to the best of your ability.

You poor thing, you said. He can recall the softness and concern in your voice. You said something about how he should be more careful, that he could come back to you if he got hurt again, that he must be rather brave and strong to get into fights like that. He doesn't remember all the exact words due to the dizzy fuzzy warm feeling all over. You only recall that he started to show up to your home within a few days with significantly worse wounds, which you once again worried and fretted over and tended to for his sake. It becomes something of a routine. You think to yourself that it's sweet that he smiles the whole time despite being hurt. You assume it's forced so as to not make you worry more.

Also, Kaveh has a drive to learn about the things he likes, more intensely so than the average person. He's been academically successful for a variety of reasons, such as being both naturally suited for at and passionate about his craft, but also possessing the general ability to intake, retain, understand, and apply information. And when it comes to you, he undergoes an experience very much akin to how he used to discover some area of special interest in his field while studying, he'd come across and become fascinated by a certain style or era of architecture or the like, and spend days on end absorbing information on it.

Similarly, he feels a compulsion to know you, to learn everything he can in relevance to you. He takes any available avenues to do so, be it from others, from quietly observing you and your behaviors and habits, normal things... and maybe some more intrusive things. It can't be that private of a conversation, since you know he's supposed to be in the other room, so it can't be that big of a deal if he just quietly shuffles his way over and puts his ear to the door, just to listen in on who you're talking to. And if you wrote things that were really that private or secret, you wouldn't leave your journal sitting right there on your desk, you'd hide it away somewhere, so it can't be that bad to read it.

Regardless of those more secretive behaviors, his outward, non-secretive behaviors are a lot more obvious than he realizes, so much so that you're not at all surprised when he finally does muster up the courage to say something to you. He's also rather nervous and consequently awkward, at least when sober. He's like a little schoolboy trying to confess to a playground crush, stumbles over his words, lots of nervous smiling.

Still, you're fairly inclined to accept. He's always been so sweet, he's pretty, you see no reason not to, and he seems positively elated when you agree. The poor thing is in such a daze that he walks headfirst into a lamppost after walking you home and parting for the night (you laughed, but you still ran over to help him back up). Sure, he's a bit clingy, that much is already obvious, but you figure he'll calm down at least a little bit once you start seeing each other more.

That, however, turns out to not be the case. Quite the opposite.

The most noticeable behavior from the get-go is that he is almost a bit too attached, and he develops a bit of a dependency very quickly. Now, it's more acceptable for him to know where you are and be around you and all that, so he makes sure to do so at every opportunity. To an even greater degree than before, which turns out to be somehow possible. He moves very very fast, in terms of a relationship. You've heard the phrase I love you within a few days, he wants to move in together within no time, he's spending what little extra money he has on you at every opportunity from the get-go. Sure, there's a "honeymoon phase" where it's normal to be super clingy to each other, but it quickly becomes clear his is not dying down any time soon.

And he cares about you so much, so it's okay for him to want to know where you are if he can't find you, to get a bit upset and frustrated with you when you disappear for fifteen minutes because you went to the store to pick up something and didn't tell him (or, ideally, take him with you). Which you can dismiss and blow off as him just being stressed or anxious once or twice, but it soon becomes clear you can't so much as leave his line of sight for a few minutes without him going to look for you.

Then starts the isolation from others. Sure, you could go out with your friends, but he forgot you had that planned and may or may not have gotten takeout for both of you, so you can miss it this once, right? And then the next time, it's that it's just that you all are planning to meet so late at night, and he doesn't feel comfortable with that kind of risk... so on and so on. You soon realize you haven't spent time with anyone else in quite some time. Whenever you do talk to someone, he always wants to know who they are and what you talked about. He doesn't demand to know, or sound angry or anything, he just... asks. Just out of curiosity, you know.

He just wants to be with you, spend time with you, talk to you, be involved in the little aspects of your daily life. It's just that that means... everything. All the time. Every single second of every single day. Even the phrase "every waking second" doesn't quite cover it, because he'll be there every second of your sleep as well, clinging to you tightly. He wants to be there when you wake up, and when you get ready in the mornings, and when you walk to your daily routine of work or school or whatever, and he'll linger and talk and talk until the last possible second, until you remind him for a third time that you're both going to be late if you don't go your separate ways, where he'll finally relent and wish you a good day. Then he starts to make sure he gets to eat lunch at the same time as you, so you see each other then too! And then he's right there to greet you as you leave for the day, and then you can walk home, and then he'll be there the whole evening, clinging to you both emotionally and physically, talking and cuddling and staying right there by your side, and then he'll ask if he can stay over for the night as he always does these days, and then you'll go to bed and he won't leave your side all night long. And of course, he'll bring up the idea of moving in with you yet again, that he could pitch in for the rent and it would save you both money, and you'll give a vague non-answer because you're not quite ready for that but don't want to hurt his feelings, deflect and try to change topics again. And then the cycle repeats.

Day after day. Without relent. Endlessly. To say it's starting to affect you psychologically would be an understatement.

Of course, with all the unfavorable aspects combined, you might just start to think that maybe you made a mistake, maybe you should think about suggesting you take a break...

Except he seems to kind of sense that. Even if it's just subconscious, he sort of detects your body language and recent behaviors and realizes something has you unhappy or discontent or just distant from him. It makes him feel this awful pit of dread in his stomach, the mere notion makes him sick. You wouldn't ever leave him, though, would you?

He was already attached to you beforehand, but now, his entire happiness and sense of purpose depends on you. You become his entire world, the only thing that really matters. The only thing he really thinks about or cares about. If, for whatever reason, you were to suddenly disappear from his life... well, then he would have nothing left. His passion for his work alone can't keep him going, now that he's had a taste of the euphoric feeling of such intense emotion towards someone. Nothing else will ever compare. You wouldn't do that to him.

But just in case. Whenever he gets this feeling like you're getting distant or like you're going to soon tell him something he doesn't want to hear, he makes sure that he has something prepared to prevent the worst. Expensive gifts he scraped enough together for, planning some big night that will make you happy, doing some significant act of service or favor for you. Something that wins over your favor, makes sure you remember you love him and don't ever think of leaving him. Or maybe even just holding you close and reminding you that you're everything to him, that he needs you, that he wouldn't know how to keep going if he didn't have you. Just to make sure you know how much you'd hurt him, how awful you would be, if you ever got any ideas about not needing him as much as he needs you.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Kidnapping is something that would only ever be a last resort. Kaveh ideally wants something very close to a normal relationship. In his mind, what he wants is a normal relationship, he's just... maybe a bit clingier and more protective than most. But otherwise, he's very normal!

Nothing unusual, he just wants to... move in together. Get a place together that he can pay part of (eventually he'll make enough to pay for it all by himself, so he promises). Or you can even just move in with him where he is now! It'll be, uh, awkward, but Alhaitham will probably be okay with it. You've already spent a lot of nights there, and he's only told Kaveh to go over to your place instead so he can 'get at least one night without having to sleep with earpieces in for once, you do realize I can hear literally everyth--' well, anyway, he's only been driven to the point of saying that a handful of times, so as long as you're careful with the, uh, timing, it should be fine.

The whole moving in together thing does get sprung on you very fast, like, a matter of maybe a week at minimum. A bit too fast, so you can gently put him down and try to hold off for a while, but he'll take the first opportunity you allow, and with enough pushing, you're bound to agree eventually.

Which makes him very happy. Now he can be around you that much more.

He does have some ideas, though, to gently suggest to you, on your future and how the relationship should work and all that. He saves up enough to decide that you don't need to work or have a job, you can stay at home and take care of domestic stuff and not have to worry about ever leaving. Oh, well, you can leave to get groceries and stuff, just... don't go by yourself, okay? Let him go with you. That way you'll never have to be alone outside without him, that's all. You know, he read this headline on a public news board the other day, said pickpocketing and theft in the area has been rising, so you know, just to be safe, you never know who's out there. Best to just not go out in public alone. And if you really do have to go meet someone or get something alone, just be sure to let him know. In fact, here's a fun idea, how about each morning you give him an hour-by-hour plan of what you anticipate doing that day? Just so he can have an idea of where you'll be, just for safety's sake. And be sure to be there at this and that time, since he'll use his breaks to come back and check on you, and he would get really worried if you weren't exactly where he anticipates you to be, you know?

As long as you can mutually agree to be safe by following those little guidelines, everything will be fine, he won't have any reason to worry, and he'll be content. Should you disregard his suggestions, though, he might get a bit more paranoid. Check on you more often. Try to talk it out, just let you know that, hey, he would really appreciate it if you could do like he asked you to and stick to the plan, he just worries about you is all. You understand that, don't you? He'll have to continuously bring it up the more you deviate from that plan, and maybe he'll have to, in is own words, 'get a bit annoying about it, haha...'

There is, however, one way that could potentially get you truly imprisoned in the classic obsessive-lover sense: attempting to go through with those thoughts of yours about leaving him.

You don't actually get to finish your spiel, when you try to bring it up and lay it on him as gently as possible. It's very obvious where you're headed, what you're about to say, so there's no need to let you finish talking, to make it all too real and actually be forced to hear the words he'd rather not. You can already see his face fall, his eyes get wide. It's... it's actually kind of creepy, unnerving and unsettling in a visceral way, a way that sends a genuine chill down your spine, like some instinct telling you something is very, very wrong. You find yourself trailing off and going quiet before you can even get the words out.

You instinctively take a step back when he moves towards you, but he's faster. Locks his hands around your wrists with a crushing grip. His face is completely blank, pupils small from having widened eyes.

You don't... you don't mean that.

HIs voice is eerily quiet and soft. You try to pull back, but his grip is unrelenting. You say something else, but he acts as if he doesn't hear you. Pulls you along as he starts to walk. Doesn't respond when you ask what he's doing. You feel a sense of alarm growing heavier in your chest. He pulls you into your shared bedroom.

I think we both need to just calm down for a while.

His voice is still ominously quiet, devoid of emotion. You try to step back, but he pulls you forward again. Lays down, takes you with him. Holds you tight, runs a hand up and down your back, slow soothing motions, totally silent. A moment ago you were trying to end things, but you suddenly feel very, very nervous at the thought of saying anything further, some instinct telling you that trying to break away or insist on leaving would be a very, very bad idea. You don't like the thought of that, the implications of the fact that you're pretty sure it's your innate danger and self-preservation instincts telling you to stay quiet. You find yourself trembling in his hold.

And after a while like that, he finally says something.

I really love you.

You know what the appropriate response is. Even if you're filled with resentment and irritation, those same self-preservation instincts force out the correct response. He sighs when you say it, like he was afraid of hearing something else.

I'm... glad. See, we just needed to relax for a moment. That's all.

And when he stands up, smiling again, you think the moment is over, that the eye-opening momentary episode of whatever the hell that was is done and you can escape. But then, he gently pushes you back onto the bed.

I think... you need to stay in here for now. I'll be back in just a little while with some food, okay?

Once more, the instincts tell you not to resist, at least not now. O-oh, uh... okay...

He hums in response and smiles, and for a moment, you think everything is fine now, that maybe he's just emotional and in a bad state of mind, maybe he'll come back and apologize, maybe he'll finally agree that this isn't working out and wish you the best... but when he shuts the door and you hear the distinct sound of heavy furniture scraping against the floor as something is pushed in front of the door, a sinking feeling of dread swells in your stomach. Another instinct, somehow even worse than your prior fear, tells you you won't be leaving this room for a long time.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

Because he doesn't really want to restrain you much in the first place, the only thing really holding you in any given place, at least initially, is his gentle suggestions on where you should or shouldn't be, and specifically some very strong urging to stay away from certain places or people. Really, the biggest hurdle is his presence, seeing as he clings to you so much, it's hard to get away, and he'll do everything in his power to stop you from leaving if he's right there, namely standing in between you and your path, trying to change the subject or stuttering to find something to say to distract you and deter you from leaving.

Should you try to slip away and get a little bit of time to yourself, it probably won't last long. Firstly, he notices your absence near-immediately, and seems to have some innate ability to find you, like a bloodhound or something. You didn't give him any hints or implications as to where you'd be going, yet somehow he manages to show up there as his first guess of places to look...? The only possibility that actually makes sense is that he's obsessively learned your own mental process tendencies to such a degree that he was able to predict your own conscious choices, which frankly terrifies you in its own way, so you choose to believe it's coincidence.

He always calms down once he does find you, but he stays quiet as you head home (he insists you go home right now, and the unusual, almost out of character intensity to the command makes you nervous enough to comply). Once home, he'll go through his usual cycle of being cold and quiet, then expressing his feelings all in one frustrated rant. Holds onto you, buries his face in the crook of your neck.

This is where one of his talents comes in -- albeit largely a subconscious behavior, he's masterful at guilt-tripping. Keeps talking about how he was so worried, how he doesn't understand why you want to hurt him like this, he cares so much about you and it feels like that means nothing to you, on and on it goes. Any irritation on your part is met with more and more guilt-tripping, sucking you down until you can't be mad or express your own frustrations that led to this for long because come on, look at him, he's looking like a wounded puppy and talking about how much he loves you, how can you be so mean? It's not asking a lot, is it? Are you really mad that he cares so much about you...?

No? Now you sigh and shake your head and get out something about how you're sorry, but-- You don't get to finish the sentence, though. He's already wrapped his arms around you, smiling and assuring you he'll try to be around more so he can take you wherever. Just... don't do this to him again, okay? The way he grips your shoulders like he's trying to break them when he says it makes you inclined to stutter out an agreement out of impulse, even if you regret saying it a moment later.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

It's easy enough on a purely practical level, but honestly, it's hard to not feel guilty for doing so, given how sincere and loving he is. He's pretty gullible, it's not hard to fool him. He'll just get really sad once he realizes you did, in fact, lie to him. Or, if you lie about something like where you'll be or what you'll be doing because you didn't want him to get all worried and paranoid (such as going out with friends, which always makes him very paranoid), he gets nervous. If it's bad enough, it might be one of the few occasions where he really raises his voice and gets upset, asking you what you were thinking and why you didn't listen to him, why you couldn't just talk it out, and so on. But his anger very quickly gives way to being rather hurt and bitter, resulting in him isolating himself and sulking for some time. He takes a few days to get over the sense of betrayal, but his recovery is expedited if you try to make it up to him or apologize for it. Apologizing is especially a wise move -- even though he tries to be understanding and often tries to agree to whatever you want to make you happy, when it comes to things like this, where it's a matter of your wellbeing or a moral issue, he really toughens up and becomes much more firm in his resolve, even stubborn, when it comes to things of that nature.

And as easy as lying to him is, manipulating him is even easier, you barely have to try. Just give him a little bit of affection and talk to him in a sweet cooing voice, and he'd walk off a cliff if you asked him to. You hold a lot of power in your hands. If you end up abusing it enough, he'll eventually realize he's being manipulated... but even then, he can't bring himself to stop. He just loves you so much, he lives for the high he gets from hearing you thank him and hug him and kiss him for doing things for you. You can even convince him to do morally bad things for you, if you push him enough, although he'll be sullen and sad afterwards, so if you have a heart, try not to abuse this power.

And another thing. The moment sex is involved, he becomes somehow even more manipulable than he already was. An inch of bare skin or a few sweet suggestive words in a sultry voice will have him going red in the face before bending over backwards to do whatever you want and performing requested tasks at the speed of light, often without even thinking through what it is he's been roped into doing. It's rather cute and amusing, really. Again, please be careful with the power you hold.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He would like to allow you to do anything you want -- and he'd never force you to not do something you want, of course! -- but obviously, anyone who cares for someone has certain limits and boundaries, which are there because of love for someone. After all, if you love someone, you won't let them do something reckless and stupid or dangerous. If anything, allowing someone to do whatever without regard for safety would indicate apathy. That's why it's understandable -- you should be glad, even -- that he's very conscious of your well-being and risks thereof.

You can do pretty much anything, so long as it's inside. He'll spend whatever he has buying you anything you want to do, supports any non-dangerous hobbies. It's just... you can't go outside, not without him at least. He'll gladly take you anywhere you want as long as it's when he has free time, though! Just... just abide by this one simple request, please? That's the only thing he takes an issue with. You can dress however you want, act however you want, do whatever you want. He just doesn't want you putting yourself at risk is all.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Again, it's pretty much entirely about staying inside and not going out, and he would really appreciate you do that one thing for him. It's not asking a lot, right? Well, then there's all the checkups throughout the day and insistence on communication, but that all ties back to the same main rule. But to be honest, he really doesn't like thinking of it as a "rule," that word has this... authoritative, controlling connotation to it that he really doesn't like. It makes him feel guilty to think of it like that, like he's doing something wrong. He'd be really hurt if you referred to it that way.

Likewise, punishing you for not following something you both agreed to sounds a bit harsh. He'll try to talk with you about it, of course, communication and mutual understanding is important, and the key to a happy relationship. The only issue is you might not come to that mutual understanding. But even if you don't agree, he can't just let you do as you please, and put yourself in danger, as well as give him constant anxiety. If you can't seem to reach an understanding, he might just have to get an extra lock from the outside. You may call that unnecessary or absurd, but he's very insistent, and if confronted on it, will get huffy and cross his arms, say something about how it's incredible you're getting mad about him caring about you. He's good at overdramatizing like that to deflect from his own actions, to sort of shift the blame onto you. The more you try to bring it up, the more he'll talk over you, keep distracting and refuse to acknowledge the actual problem.

While he also doesn't call it a rule either, he also is really insistent that you communicate. He gets very paranoid if you won't talk to him, if you try to give him silent treatment or something like that. So if you pull this behavior a few times, he'll try to sit down and have a talk with you about how communicating is very important, and how when you refuse to speak to him it makes him really really nervous and he feels so sick to his stomach and his mind assumes the worst and the paranoia eats away at him and... well, just, can you both maybe agree to not do that? That when you're upset, you'll just tell him you are and why? Please?

He'll be very relieved if you agree, but do note that in practice, this rule actually only applies to you. He, on the other hand, will very commonly get quiet and refuse to elaborate on why he's upset without coaxing. But he tells you eventually once you give him the attention he wants, so, it counts as compliance with the agreement, in his mind.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Kaveh would strongly prefer to avoid homicide if at all possible, and will go to great lengths to avoid it. He's not a particularly confrontational or aggressive person at all. He's also self-aware enough to know that starting any actual up-front conflict with someone else would just be embarrassing himself, and you as well.

It's not as if there isn't a brief second where the thought does cross his mind, though. That it would be so much easier to deal with everything if he could just permanently get rid of someone.

But he's just not that sort of person. He's rational and empathetic, he's not the sort of obsessed that will convince himself the other person is committing a transgression worthy of death just by liking you. He knows that killing them would be an incredibly selfish, abhorrent act... and, of course, very much a crime, one that has the potential to ruin his life if found out.

He does try roundabout ways. He's a sweet person and most people like him, so he has heard his fair share of talk and gossip that circulates around the community. Ideally, he can find someone else that likes the person who likes you, encourage them to go for it and pursue the one they want, and everything works out perfectly. Well, that's how he envisions it in his head, but he knows it probably won't be that easy.

He puts himself to work trying every other angle he can. Digs around for information on the individual, trying to find some negative thing to use against them — a violation that could get them expelled or jailed, a secret he can post on a public bulletin and ruin their reputation, anything. He feels bad, of course, but it's the morally superior option to murder, and that thought helps him feel less guilty.

If worse comes to worse, he can still cause inconveniences. They're going to go meet up with you? Not with their keys hidden they aren't, preventing them from locking their door. He'll find countless little ways to sabotage, all in the hope that it will somehow ruin the relationship between the two of you... he'll feel bad, but it's worth it.

For him to ever actually, truly reach a point where killing is a realistic possibility, it would require a lot of pushing and desperation. He would have had to exhaust every other possible option, and feel that he's at a point where he'll lose you permanently unless he takes some form of drastic action. Even then, the downside of this is that he actually doesn't plan a murder, he ends up doing something spontaneous and impulsive out of a sudden panic response. There's an opportunity — they're standing at the edge of a railing they would die if they fell from, he knows which drink is theirs and there's pest poisons just sitting right there so temptingly, or something of that nature — and he just takes it on an impulse, only to process his own actions a second too late.

The downside of this is that the homicide will certainly be discovered, so it's not as if it's just a person gone missing, but it's just perfectly done enough that they never have any idea who might have done it, or, it may be written off as an accident, depending on the specifics. Nonetheless, you notice that you haven't seen Kaveh in a few days... turns out he's holed up in his home, with his roommate saying something must be wrong with him, because he's been sick and feverish... it's very unfortunate timing, seeing as you were hoping to go to him for some comfort over the loss of another friend, but you can just wait for him to feel better.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

He may be sweet, but it's not really that hard to get him upset. He's rather patient, tries to be understanding. If you have some disagreement, he tries his best to be calm and see things from your perspective and all that. But there is a limit to his patience.

However, his poor moods aren't really what you'd call true anger, he's more prone to this quick cycle where he first gets frustrated and huffy, then sullen and sad and moody. The first stage is lots of heavy frustrated sighs, he crosses his arms and grinds his teeth. He doesn't yell or shout, but he does raise his voice just a bit, and it's clearly audibly irritated. Prone to using those phrases with "if" and "just" -- if you would just listen, or if we could just do that, then, or if they just leave you alone, so on and so on, creating these scenarios where his ideal is the most reasonable outcome, and it's dependent on you or someone else to meet some simple condition, at which point everything would work out perfectly, making you or some other person the only thing inhibiting said ideal outcome. If he's really, really mad, he doesn't want to end up saying something that would hurt you or anything, and he gets the impulse to just go walk it off and cool down, so he actually ends up storming off, muttering something about needing just a few minutes. It's actually one of the few times he ever leaves you alone, funnily enough. It doesn't last too long before he comes back, and that's only on rare occasions that he reaches that point.

After that first stage, after getting out the frustration, it gives way to feeling all sad and melancholy, so he tends to mope. And whine. And sulk. And wallow in feeling sorry for himself. And, if possible, drink the feelings away. It's kind of childish, really, and often overdramatic. If you're present and it's not you who made him feel that way to begin with, he doesn't actually outright say anything or ask for anything, but he goes out of his way to be extra mopey and sad and makes sure it's right within your field of vision, hoping you will give him attention and love and encouragement. Just sort of silently sits there all sad and waits for some attention. And yes, this means that if you haven't caught onto it due to being spaced out or focused on something else, and go into another room, he will sort of quietly trail behind you and go into the next room with you before sitting down and sulking again, until you finally catch on and give him the attention he craves.

If you are the reason he's all hurt, even unintentionally, he might resort to giving you a bit of silent treatment, with a similar goal: hope that you'll give him attention and ask what's wrong and then ask what's wrong again when he says 'nothing' and then gasp and apologize when he tells you and say you didn't mean what you did or said that way and hold him and kiss his forehead and... well, that's how it plays out in his head.

If you're trying to make him mad intentionally, though, he's likely to see through it, and again, he just gets hurt. Why are you being so mean? Did I do something? He actually gets really, genuinely hurt by this sort of behavior, and will likely make you feel so guilty for trying it that you cease and refocus your efforts to a different tactic.

How do they express affection, or attempt to endear themselves to you?

It would be easier to ask how he doesn't. He tries every angle, every means of expression, manages to have every "love language" simultaneously. He's always getting you various little gifts (how is he affording that?), always saying nice things, always doing things for you and helping you with any task you wish, always spending time with you (even if you don't want it), and if you'll allow it, he's very, very cuddly. While he does it all, he's especially focused on getting stuff for you, despite his lack of funds.

Maybe it's because it's just his preferred way of expressing his affection, but perhaps there's also a more manipulative side to it -- he knows that you know that he doesn't have a lot of money, so if you see that he's spending what little he does have on you, it will seem that much more significant, right? You'll notice, and then it will seem like an even bigger, more meaningful gesture because of that. You'll thus be more emotionally moved by the gesture, and you'll surely want to repay him with affection and attention. Whether that's just a natural exchange of sentiments or a subtly manipulative means of trying to win your favor, well, you can think whatever you like.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

It somewhat depends on his mood. On better days, he'd like to just disregard such notions as "value" of an individual person, thinks the concept is shallow and meaningless, the sort of thing only either very prideful or very insecure people would even care to think about. Who cares what someone's "worth" is, or if someone is "better" or "worse" than someone else? As long as two people love each other, nothing else should matter, right?

But on worse days, when he's sulking and his thoughts wander to negative places, he starts to feel like you're better than him, to the extent it can make him depressed. When he's not in a good mood, he often lays around wallowing, deep in thought about how you can do so much better than him, there's no way you'd ever choose to stay with him permanently, and even if you do like him, surely someone better will come along and he'll lose you... sigh.

When he's in such a sulking mood, it's very outwardly obvious, he gets quieter than usual and a sad look on his face. So if you just give him a bit of reassurance, maybe a hug and cuddles and a kiss to the forehead and some sweet uplifting words (please), he'll perk right back up. Well, the thought will still be in the back of his mind, but he can't stay too sad when you're giving him attention. He'll just keep feeding off your reassurance for a while until the contentment from it runs out, and then he gets depressed again, and then you reassure him again, and, well, it cycles like that.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

If you haven't accepted him, he's still incredibly determined, in spite of a tendency to sometimes be pessimistic in his own thoughts about the matter. He bounces back and forth -- he'll undergo a brief sad spell thinking about how he'll never make you like him, but he comes out of it with newfound determination that he'll either win you over or die trying. This repeats over and over, at least until you show some semblance of affection or attention, which will serve as a fuel he manages to stretch out for an incredibly long time thereafter.

...And don't give him any ideas, because seriously, he will die trying. This man will put his own well-being at great risk for a chance to impress you. Seriously. He doesn't even really need you to do anything to push him, even. He will do something incredibly stupid and he will get himself hurt if you don't actively stop him from doing so. Over time you kind of develop a sixth sense, a radar where you can feel when he's about to do something stupid, so use it wisely.

If you do accept him and agree to be with him, he'd like to think you already do love him, but to be honest, he gets insecure pretty easily and, while he won't actually ask for it because he deems it too pathetic, he would very much appreciate if you remind him you love him on a regular basis.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

His reluctance to do anything he deems immoral does not combine well with his desire to secure you all to himself. The two don't exactly go hand-in-hand, it's difficult to ensure someone remains around you at all times and never interacts with anyone else without taking some unsavory measures to get to that point. Hence, he takes so many roundabout measures of getting the results he wants, and does so much by proxy -- not only does it prevent a lot of things from being tracked back to him, but it also alleviates himself of guilt. That alone sets him apart from the typical type of obsessive lover and their tendencies to kill, rape and kidnap without much hesitancy.

When he does engage in morally questionable behaviors and manipulative tactics, though, it's really not even intentional. That behavior isn't even necessarily a conscious choice, he doesn't really think about it or intend it to be part of some bigger picture of control, it's just that whenever you mention going out to see other people, or when he doesn't know where you are, or when you're paying more attention to something else than him, he gets this awful sick feeling and acts on impulses to soothe his nerves, which just so happens to be keeping you right by his side and ensuring he has your full attention. It's not malicious, or intentionally controlling or manipulative. He just cares so, so much and loves you so, so much and the behaviors just come out without him really putting any intentional thought into them, nor has it ever occurred to him as an afterthought. It just doesn't really cross his mind, he doesn't reflect on his own actions all that much.

If he was made aware of how manipulative he can be, forced to come to the realization of everything he's done, it would come as a bit of a shock to him, and would leave him more or less a psychological mess for a little while as he comes to terms with the fact that, despite his best conscious intentions, he's actually been pretty awful in some ways. He would come out of it swearing to himself to be better, thinking he will keep better track of himself in the future and think his actions through, that he'll make up for anything bad that he's done before... but, of course, the chances of that resolve lasting in the face of situational impulses is not that great, and in the heat of the moment, any thoughts he has that what he might be about to do is kind of distasteful behavior will be overridden by some momentary justification, which will be reinforced and repeated to himself afterwards to make himself feel better.

On a more wholesome note, Kaveh also gets really enthusiastic about your passions, talents and hobbies. He understands passion and dedication to a craft or art form, having the same experience himself, and gets really into supporting you in your endeavors, should you have anything of the sort. Whether it's something artsy like music or drawing or dance, or something more sport-related or science-related, doesn't really matter, he just really makes an effort to support you and encourage you. He'll tell you whatever you've created is amazing (even if you both know it's not), he'll spend whatever money he gets his hands on to buy materials or supplies or other thematic gifts (even though you keep telling him not to, to save his money), and he always asks tons of questions. It's partially a genuine, heartfelt sentiment, and it's also just partially an obsessive compulsion to know everything there is to know regarding you, but he also does very much hope that you will be happy and appreciate his efforts, and that in turn you'll think more highly of him and have more affection for him. Basically, it's partially yet another means of trying to win your favor. Nonetheless, it's really sweet and endearing.

Finally, in all honesty, Kaveh can be pretty sensitive. Especially in regards to you. It's easy to hurt his feelings, and when he's hurt, he goes into one of his attention-seeking moping sessions. You often find yourself feeling like you can't be entirely honest with him, because he's so sensitive to your words and feelings, so if you're bluntly honest, you'll end up hurting his feelings fairly often. You sometimes have to just find ways to articulate what you want to say in a way to deflect from anything he might take too personally. Regardless, be prepared to deal with a lot of his sad wallowing. He'll be sad (and make sure you see it) until you come cheer him up, preferably with hugs and kisses and sweet words. He can get rather childish when it comes to this, so it's easy to get frustrated by his sensitivity, but it's easier for both of you if you just comply and be all sweet like he wants, or else you'll just create a bigger task for yourself when he gets even more upset.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

He's incredibly touchy, if you allow it. He's perceptive enough to tell if you flinch or draw away from his touch, so he'll refrain if he feels like it's bothering you, but if you seem to be receptive to his touches, he can't keep his hands off of you. All throughout the day, laying on the couch or in bed, he keeps his arms wrapped around you, always holds your hand in public, and clings to you in some way even just walking around the house. Depending on your height difference, he likes to rest his chin either on the top of your head or your shoulder, arms wrapped around you from behind while you work on whatever you're doing.

He's admittedly developed a habit of masturbation fairly regularly, so he's used to getting to cum pretty often, needs it at least once a day. He's fairly horny overall, but in particular, his drive increases as an emotional response. If he's in a good mood, the slightest of visual stimuli or touches can get him going, and he's very eager. If he's sad, though, he still gets horny over it, the purpose of wanting sex just changes, now being that it will cheer him up. The only time he really can't get easily aroused if when he's under very intense stress, situations that need to be resolved as fast as possible, he's just too focused on whatever the task at hand is to think about much else. He'll still very much appreciate (and not outright ask for, but maybe strongly hint at wanting) a nice blowjob or riding him when he's finished as a means of praising him for getting through his task, though.

He's a mix of reserved and not reserved. He's awkward about it and very new to it all, so he has a tendency to be shy about it, the sort of thing where he can't make eye contact, keeps sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. But the raging hormones and eagerness make him simultaneously still very much unhesitant to participate and discuss, even if he's burning on the inside with embarrassment the whole time.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Of course he cares tremendously. Forcing someone into doing intimate acts against their will is one of the most horrific crimes he can conceive of, and he despises people who would do something like that. Rapists, in his mind, are all strangers, a certain class of bad people who exist solely in certain unsavory spaces and groups.

But people who are in relationships are supposed to be intimate with each other and all. It's natural and healthy. Relationships are said to suffer if there's a sudden drought in that department.

See, Kaveh has a sort of slow descent. A lot of his approach depends on whether or not you've had sex or any sort of intimacy before. Before you've ever done so, he's very respectful of your wishes, would never push anything onto you, would never pressure you, is willing to maintain a perfectly squeaky-clean relationship where you never touch below the neck, will stiffen and turn around and cover his eyes automatically if you start to change or have a wardrobe malfunction that reveals something, won't even talk about such things if you don't bring it up first. Much to your amusement, he even asked to kiss you the first time he did so. The sort of "pure" relationship that you've seen particularly religiously pious or socially traditional people promote.

Things change a bit with time, though. Still, he'd never ever ever force anything, of course, but, you know. There's a lot of space between forcing something and being totally okay with not having it ever.

Once you've gotten somewhat hot and heavy, late at night alone in your place, mouths latched onto each other, but you pull away because you don't want to move too fast or whatever your reason is, he accepts that, really. He just looks very visibly disappointed, might mope a bit... but no, really, it's fine. You can tell how badly he wants it, and he seems to think every night is going to be The Night based on how quickly he seems to perk up and eagerly latch onto you if you embrace him or kiss him or anything of the sort. But no pressure. It's fine, really.

The pressure of the blatant disappointment is not so bad, really, it can be more amusing than anything, but it gets significantly worse after you actually do sleep with him for the first time, because he gets hooked like some sort of drug. And consequently, without even realizing it himself, he gets much pushier. In a more rational mind, he'd probably at least try to stop himself in his worst moments, but one's self-awareness and inhibition are severely compromised when you have a flood of hormones pumping through your veins, and the object the brain associates with that burst of a chemical high right in front of you, complete with visual stimuli. He's still not forceful, of course, just... encouraging. Touchy. Can't get behind closed doors for more than a few moments without pulling you close and holding onto you while you two lay on a couch or bed or whatever at the end of the day, just like you always have, just much more sensual with the places being grabbed and the not-so-subtle tugging on your clothes. If you actually want it, it's rather cute, always strikes you with the imagery of an eager puppy wagging its tail or the like.

But you don't have to, and if you aren't feeling it or something, that's fine... he'll be really sad, but that's fine. Maybe you'll feel like it again in an hour or so. He'll be sure to check. But if not, that's fine... he's just going to be even more sad. And quiet. And mopey. Blatantly so, such a contrast to his usual self you can't not notice it. It makes you feel a bit guilty, makes the atmosphere a bit awkward. But hey, if you give in and give him what he wants, he immediately perks right back up.

It's really not a conscious behavior, not something he's ever really stopped to think about, it's just something he sort of does without ever really thinking about it or how manipulative it is. If you ever point it out to him, he'd feel awful about it and try to stop himself from subconsciously engaging in that behavior... which will last about a week or so.

What is intimacy with them like? What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Poor baby is a total virgin. He won't admit to it unprompted, but it's kind of obvious, and he'll be (albeit sheepishly) honest if you asked. He's incredibly nervous, but also very eager, hands that tremble yet rush to pull everything off of you and run over your bare skin with intense fixation. He pays a lot of attention to you and your reactions, at least in the beginning, and is very afraid of accidentally hurting you or something.

Oral fixation

Kaveh is a very simple boy, he gets off to knowing he's getting you off. He likes making you feel good. He quickly discovers that he really likes having his head between your legs. Loves the way you squirm and moan and fuck it feels so good when you lace your fingers in his hair and pull, when you clamp your thighs down on either side of his head. It gives him such a rush, a sense of pride and excitement at the same time. He can spend literal hours like that, and likes to just do it at random. Expect to be often pushed against the wall when you're home, any of your whining about how you were cleaning or working on something soon replaced by noises of pleasure you can't restrain when he drops down and buries his tongue inside you. He keeps insisting that you sit on his face -- yes he can breathe, don't worry, and even if he can't, he'll be pretty content if that's how he goes anyway, doing what he loves.

It goes both ways, though, not just on the receiving end. If you go to reciprocate, he'll be in total, sheer bliss. He starts off trying to be cautious and worries about your comfort, but quickly gets lost in the feeling, grabbing you by your skull and pulling your head down, jerking your face up and down like a toy until he cums down your throat. Of course, after he does, he'll be apologizing for it over and over, but if you reassure him it's fine, he might just lose inhibition and control like that more readily in the future.

Praise

This probably doesn't even qualify as a kink for him, it's more like a need. He desperately needs you to tell him that he's doing a good job. Moans and other such noises are very nice on their own, but specific verbal praise is very much appreciated. Tell him it feels good, that he's good, that you love him, that you love his cock inside you, that you need him and want him and will never ever leave him. He eats up any positive words you say, depends on them even. It's partially an emotional thing of course, but it also makes him cum that much faster, each word of praise about how good it feels like an electric shock of pleasure.

Oh, and if the phrase "good boy" leaves your mouth, his soul might actually leave his body and ascend right then and there.

Marking

He discovers this because he has a tendency to get rougher than he realizes in the heat of the moment. He'll get more intense halfway in, start thrusting harder and gripping more firmly, nails digging in and even, without consciously intending to, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. Only after it's over does he start sputtering all wide-eyed because he sees the marks his actions have left across your skin, stammering out an apology and asking if you're hurt or need something and why is hot, why does it make him feel weird. What is this? This weird feeling, he feels so bad about having done it, and yet, it's... kind of nice...

If you don't mind it, maybe just maybe he can do it again... the thought of which makes him nearly hard again already. He finds himself tracing a finger over the indents of his teeth in your flesh, over the hickeys and scratches... he still feels guilty, but provided you don't seem upset, he finds himself sort of attracted to it. It feels nice, in a way, like it's marking something as his own, makes him feel a sort of prideful swelling feeling that also very much correlates to making his cock twitch. Like he's writing his name on you with each mark. Or, hey, maybe he could quite literally do that instead...

He grows a fast affinity for any sort of marking on you, be it scratches, bites, hickeys, actual writing, or even just cumshots on your face and back. It's rather cute how he still feels guilty about it, mumbles out an apology for it, but it's very evident that he's enjoying it nonetheless.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them? What are they like as a parent?

He'd prefer to be financially stable first, of course, but yes actually, very strongly so. He really likes the thought of eventually having a family, likes to picture it in his head. Just you, him, a bunch of kids, maybe you guys could get a dog or a cat or something, in a nice but modest house, living a peaceful, happy, simplistic life... it's a nice thought. He knows it's a bit embarrassing to be dreaming of stuff like that with someone he doesn't know that well, so he tries to refrain, but the thoughts seep in nonetheless.

It wouldn't be something that would practically, actually happen, though, until later stages, if you've finally accepted him, most likely via an "accident" wherein he forgot (or rather, tells himself he forgot) to wear protection, and one thing leads to another. Granted, he probably won't actually make it to the point of financial stability before it does, but... hey, having love and hope is what matters, right? Sure, maybe it'll be a struggle, but you'll manage... probably.

On the bright side, he's actually a very good father, one of the best you could have. Very caring and loving, and highly involved in every aspect of the kid's life. He's always trying to take care of tasks for you to "give you a break," wants the full Parent Experience™ -- which is rather endearing, seeing as you know a lot of men tend to push the boring or annoying or tedious tasks off on the mother, but Kaveh gladly helps you with a smile on his face and enthusiasm in every second.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

It would be a stretch to call it that, largely because he doesn't really intend it that way. But if you happen to trigger his anxieties when he's already in one of his worst moments, where he becomes more forceful and irrational out of paranoia or panic, the solution his mind comes up with for the issue of your discontentment is to make you feel good. Orgasms trigger a critical part of a bonding process (he remembers learning that in some mandatory class years ago), and you can't have room for too many bad thoughts when your mind is completely consumed by pleasure.

As always, he's not going to force you, of course not, he's just a little more pushy than usual, talks fast enough you can't get a word in, hands on your shoulders with a firm grip and an even firmer push as you get quickly guided into the bed (not forced! If you really didn't want it, you could always shove back), pushed down onto your back. A hand held over your mouth, should you try to talk, not because he's trying to prevent you from getting a word in, but because you're going to get yourself more worked up and distressed if he lets you talk. Just... just calm down, okay? Just let me handle it...

You have the opportunity to say no, despite the crushing grip and frantic voice and the ominous intensity of his stare. Looming over you, light from the hallway casting a shadow over his face that makes you feel uneasy. But you know he wouldn't hurt you, he's sure of that, so if you really wanted something else, you'd just tell him. Your stillness and quietness and wide eyes are an unspoken form of permission in and of themselves. You're clearly in recognition of your own distress and need for him to help you, and he'll do his best to make you feel good, which will in turn make you feel better and relax. Rather, maybe just keep going until you eventually pass out. Get the negative emotions out of you so that you'll be back to normal in the morning... and if not, he can just keep going then, too.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

If you ask, he'll say something really sappy like your eyes or your smile. Which is true, but he also likes all the soft squishy parts. Thighs, chest, anything he can rest his head on after a really long day and blissfully relax on. It's probably the closest thing on earth to what heaven feels like, he thinks. There's something comforting about the soft warmth that just melts his anxieties and stress away. Sometimes, if he's been dealing with a particularly disagreeable or demanding client or been pushed around all day, he just comes home at the end of the day silently sulking, makes a beeline over towards you, flops down and stuffs his face into your chest without a word.

But going back to his affinity for your eyes, over the course of his career, he's become somewhat familiar with certain stones and metals often inlaid into more ornate or sacred works of architecture, and he will definitely at some point get you some form of necklace or bracelet or the like with some stone or metal in it that matches the color of your eyes. He just puts a lot of effort into trying to be classically romantic like that, which is cute at least.

#alhthm staring up at the ceiling laying in bed at night trying to ignore the sounds before just sighing and putting the earpieces in #hes a real one for allowing it though ty alhthm #yandere genshin impact

462 notes · View notes