#one of the things he always told us was that if there's a clog call a rooting service specifically not just a general plumber | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

augustinewrites · 1 year

Text

“your nose is running again.”

you shoot a glare at alhaitham’s reflection in your vanity, swiping at your nose and clearing your throat a few times before croaking, “it is not.”

“tch.” he has the audacity to look unimpressed with your lie, fiddling with the collar of the nice shirt you’d practically wrestled him into for tonight. “this happens every year, i don’t know why you keep trying to deny it.”

“there’s nothing to deny, because i’m a doctor and we don’t—” you pause, face scrunching when you feel a sneeze trying to fight its way out of your system. “— get sick.”

so what if your throat was scratchy and your entire face felt hot with sinus pressure? one could claim it was allergies, not sickness.

taking a seat to pull on his shoes, alhaitham only scoffs disbelievingly at you. he’s acting so smug, and maybe that’s because last week you’d ignored his warning about how cold nighttime in the desert got. or maybe because you refused to take the vitamin c tablets he put beside your coffee each morning because their texture was like that of chalk.

before he can open his mouth and say these things, the sneeze you’d been fighting takes you by surprise. you immediately turn away and lift your elbow, sneezing into it not once, not twice, but five times in quick succession.

(okay, so maybe you were feeling a little under the weather.)

you turn away from the dresser with a sharp look in your eye, just daring him to let slip the i told you so that always seemed to be sitting on the tip of his tongue.

instead, you feel his fingers tugging at the laces of your dress and his lips pressing softly against your forehead. (too warm, you swear he murmurs.)

“we don’t have to go if you aren’t feeling well. nilou will understand. do you really want to be fighting a cold while you’re surrounded by a group of your friends—”

“our friends,” you correct with a sniffle.

he ignores you. “who are going to make you—”

“make us.”

“—endure cake and small talk?”

you roll your eyes. for someone so fearsome, your husband really could be quite dramatic, brought to his knees by something as simple as cake and small talk.

“we missed her performance last month because we were stuck with work, so we’re not missing her birthday.” you turn around to shove lightly at his shoulder. “and don’t think you can use my cold as an excuse to get out of this party.”

alhaitham pulls back to look down at you with an irritating combination of a scoff and a smirk on his lips. “ah, so you finally admit that you have a cold? maybe if you’d taken the vitamin c for your immunity like someone suggested...”

“those supplements taste like shit, haitham,” you cough, expression pinching as you recall the disgusting tablets that you’ve called ‘not as good as the real thing.’ “the only vitamin c i like is in those mondstadt imported sunsettias...”

“you’re like a child,” he scolds. “now get undressed and back in bed before—”

“undressed?” you question, swatting his hands away from your dress. “i’m going to the party.”

“no, you’re not.”

“what if i—”

“no.”

“but darling—”

“sorry, love, but you’re not going anywhere tonight,” he decides, ignoring your quiet grumbles of protest. “i know you don’t get sick often, but when you do it hits you pretty hard.”

he leaves the room briefly at that, returning with something sitting in his palm.

you shake your head, holding your hands out to keep him back. “no. no! that stuff is worse than the vitamin c.”

“huh, if you’d taken that, then maybe you could have avoided this.” he hums, unscrewing the lid and letting that disgustingly sweet, syrupy scent flood the room. it was so potent that even you clogged sinuses could pick it up. “perhaps, doctor, one of these years you’ll learn to take your own advice. or perhaps listen to your husband’s…”

you lean backwards when he reaches for your chin. “haitham, if you make me drink that i will call the general mahamatra on you.”

“go ahead, he doesn’t scare me.”

he tries again, only for you to side-step his hand. “take your damn medicine!”

“you’re not supposed to yell at a sick person!”

“i’m not yelling. i’m simply insisting because you are being childish.”

maybe you were being childish, but that medicine was just so damn gross. “can i at least go down and say hi to everyone?” you try. “it’s been so long since i’ve seen them all.”

“fine, but only for ten minutes. and you have to take your medicine first.”

“but it always makes me sleepy,” you argue. “then you’ll be there enduring cake and small talk all by yourself.”

“it’s a birthday party, not a war. i think i’ll survive.”

you scowl at him, snatching the bottle and taking a gulp of the bitter liquid. “yeah, yeah. just wait until a drunk kaveh gets his hands on you and i’m not there to save you.”

the medicine starts taking effect almost instantly. you make it eleven minutes on your own feet before you’re clinging to alhaitham’s arm and leaning heavily into his side, nose still leaking and throat still tickling.

by then, all it takes is a single, ‘you don’t look too well’ from tighnari to convince alhaitham to drag you up into nilou’s spare room and into bed.

too disoriented and drowsy to argue anymore, you thank him dazedly and reach out to pat his cheek before letting your eyes drift shut.

__________

you’re not too sure how long it’s been when you wakes, but when you pry your tired eyes open, there’s a tray of steaming food on your bedside table. the room is glowing and warm, the source being the flickering candle that alhaithm is reading his book under

he glances up when you shift in bed, closing his book. “feeling better?”

“‘m not leaking anymore,” you shrugs, rubbing at the tip of your nose. “how long was i out for?”

“a little over two hours,” he answers, taking a seat at your bedside and pressing a hand to your forehead. “you’re not as warm as before. the medicine must be working.”

“yeah, well i still feel gross,” you mutter, not wanting to give that disgusting concoction too much credit.

“you look it, too.”

“the akademiya scribe,” you mutter, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. “charming as ever.”

he scoffs at that, scooping up the tray of food in one hand and offering you his other. “charming enough that the amurta darshan’s sage took my last name.”

“well, don’t let it get to your head,” you huff, taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet. his thumb strokes your wedding band as he guides you to sit on a fur rug positioned in front of the fire. “pretty hard to say no to a guy that practically begs you to marry him.”

“it was not begging—”

“haitham, dearest, that’s exactly what it was.”

you burst into a fit of giggles when he tells you to save it, his cheeks turning pink at the memory. your laughter quickly dissolves into a series of coughs, to which alhaitham pounds you on the back a little harder than necessary.

“alright, you had your fun,” he murmurs, picking up a bowl of soup. “you need to eat something. i made your favourite,” he dips the spoon into the bowl. “i already picked out the cabbage,” he adds when you open your mouth to complain.

unable to deny the slight rumble of your stomach, you reach for the spoon in his hand, pouting when he pulls it away. “i can feed myself,” you protest, voice hoarse from your coughing fit.

“the last time i let you feed yourself when you were sick, you sneezed and ended up throwing a spoonful of soup in my face,” he reminds you, the grim look on his face making it seem as if you’d stabbed him with the spoon instead. “open up.”

you narrow your eyes at the spoonful of soup. “it’s red,” you state. the original colour of recipe was a warm, almost translucent gold.

“good to know your eyes are still working.”

“haitham,” you groan. “you know i don’t handle spice as well as you.”

“it’ll help clear up your sinuses,” he reasons, though there’s something teasing twitching at the corner of his lips.

your body is wracked by another series of sneezes, each one stronger than the last, making him laugh.

“are you sure you’re done?” he teases, handing you a tissue.

“a good husband would just say, bless you,” you pout, blowing your nose and weakly tossing the soiled tissue at him.

defeated by a clogged nose and a smug husband, you reluctantly open your mouth and let him spoon-feed you the eye-wateringly spicy soup. it slides down your throat like fire, and it…kind of does help with your sinuses and throat.

you’d never admit that, though. it’s a new low you’ve discovered, a doctor taking medical advice from a semiotics major.

the universe always finds ways to keep us humble.

when the bowl is half-empty and alhaitham is convinced you’ve eaten enough, he sets the bowl aside and wraps a blanket around your shoulders before he goes. your eyes are drooping again, the result of a warm blanket enveloping you and a satisfied stomach.

he returns with a glass of water and a cool washcloth, gently pressing it to your forehead before situating himself behind you. “need anything else?”

letting yourself relax against his chest, you shake your head. his arms are warm around you, the steady sound of his heart and the soothing light of the candle slowly lulling you to sleep once more.

“shouldn’t you get back to the party?” you murmur sleepily. but you’re already snuggling against him, hands curling greedily into the soft material of his shirt to keep him close.

“not particularly. i’ve already greeted nilou and done my share of…small talk,” he explains quietly. his small sigh is heavy, his posture deflating slightly. it wasn’t that he disliked your shared friends or their company, it was just that his social battery ran out faster than others, and without you there to keep him afloat? two hours was more than enough for him.

“besides, i can’t exactly relax if i know that you’re up here positively suffering.”

“you’re teasing me, but fine, i’ll let you stay.”

no medicine or soup could do to you what a warm blanket and your annoying, teasing husband could for you, anyway.

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin drabbles

1K notes · View notes

kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months

Note

Ohhh, Sometimes women's breast get clogged up with milk, könig would use this as the perfect opportunity to be close to you and massage your chest to help, he's just so sweet helping you out like that.😊

Omg omg omg of course he’d help her!!!

CW: Postpartum phase, children, light angst, breast stimulation, yandere undertones.

König has become soft ever since the baby was born.

You read somewhere that men's testosterone levels suffer a significant drop after they become fathers, which perhaps explains why he looks like a melting marshmallow in hot cocoa these days. König's stare has always followed you wherever you go but now that you're carrying his child in your arms, the looks he gives you are far more… benevolent. You suspect he must be proud of you, first carrying the baby for nine long months and then suffering an arduous birth - because of course this titan's baby weighed over 8 pounds - and now you're giving your everything to the soft little thing König calls "his kleine Butterblume."

You're in a baby bubble together, but not all days are heavenly and sweet. And now, on top of everything else, your breast is clogged. The lady at the maternity clinic told you this is a common issue and can easily be dealt with at home, but the instructions you received left you staring off into space for a few moments.

Later that evening, the problem is still very much acute, and you're getting desperate.

When you go to König and beg him to help you, there is a sharp intake of breath just before he nods. An odd striptease show ensues in silence: you're puffy and swollen and sore, you feel like a wreck as you take off your shirt and bra. König has always referred to you as a flower or a heavenly being, but now, you must resemble a sullen bloom at the end of July. Overblown and weary, heavy and plush, petals pouting, falling if someone were to touch them.

You feel like crying from seeing that König still worships you with his stare. If anything, he seems to approve of the extra pounds and your devastated state, only looks you up and down with boundless hunger, silent but with a heaving chest. When you're bare, he rises, and you're turned around and pulled in a stout embrace. Large, warm hands land over your poor, aching breasts, and you quickly remind him to be gentle - the instructions were to pet the breasts like you would a cat. He rumbles a dark laugh against your back, and then the hands start to massage you, blessedly soft but imperious.

Your sighs grow heavy and weary. It hurts a little, but the relief is imminent. Your head rolls back to rest on the mountain of his chest, and then you begin to sob.

You let it all come out as a series of soft, sad little whines: how tired you are, how the baby is far more work than you thought, how your breasts hurt all the time and how you don't even know if you're doing things right. How you just want to sleep…

He rubs you through your breakdown, and it's soothing to be held by someone as strong as König… But then he pants a hot wish in your ear.

"I thought we'd soon make another one..."

"Mh, wha–another one?"

"Ja, sicher. We must make three or four at least. Oder?"

You are about to collapse, about to faint, but can't because a demigod is keeping you from falling.

"Don't worry little lily. I know you need to rest first. I'll wait a few more weeks."

"König–"

You shudder as his thumbs brush over your nipples.

"Am I doing it right?" He asks with a low, soft purr.

Your mind is in disarray, a trophy from not getting enough sleep for months, and you're tired of struggling against his indomitable will. First things first, you think, stuffing the earlier conversation somewhere into the recesses of your exhausted mind.

"Um. The lady said you should–that you could… try to suck them too," you breathe with unease.

"Ist das so?"

You're moved to the bed before you can even whimper.

...Is he so eager to do this?

Of course he is; you haven't had sex in months. He's only had his own calloused hand to keep him company, and you've been too tired to even think about such things. Your body has become a stranger to you, and when he moves to crawl on top of you, it only looks like the prowl of an apex predator.

The coarse stubble of his chin makes you flinch – it's like an array of tiniest daggers caressing your breasts. When he takes your aching nipple into his warm mouth, you shudder. It feels utterly different to have a grown man sucking on your tits; it's ten times more demanding, a hundred times more intense when the man in question is König. The hunger, the overstimulation, the exhaustion make your head spin, his mouth and tongue force you to release your stress in shakes. Before you even know it, there are tears streaming down your face.

He doesn't stop. Probably thinks it's only a good thing that you get it all out of your system. He must feel good about himself for making you cry while lapping and sucking at your breasts, he rubs, licks, and nibs until you're sniffling and wailing on that bed.

"Little angel… I've never been this hard," he pants on your slathered, slick nipple. "Do you know what it does to a man to look but never touch?"

Your tiny, weary heart is flapping against its cage. "König, we can't make another one… I can't, I can't, not yet…"

"Ah… But if I promise I'll pull out?"

#that escalated quickly #does König keep his promise what do you think lol #answered #yandere könig #könig x female reader #könig x you

483 notes · View notes

keurimi · 2 years

Text

[ 23:58pm ] — i love you. remember that.

you and haechan were polar opposites. he was sociable, outgoing, popular, and charmed every person he crosses paths with. he was very ambitious and hardworking and was probably voted most likely to succeed in high school. you, on the other hand, preferred to keep to yourself most of the time, essentially satisfied with mediocrity, and an overall one’s usual plain jane.

you never understood why he liked you in the first place.

the insecurities in your relationship with haechan rarely clog your mind, but when they do, they hit you like a truck. you tended to distance yourself from your boyfriend, wallowing in your own self-pity until he maybe notices and coaxes you out of it.

you wonder how long until his patience with your negativity runs out and leaves you for someone else. someone better.

“you ok?” haechan’s voice snaps you out of your downward spiral. you blinked a few times out of shock, then responded curtly. “yeah, i’m alright.”

haechan narrowed his eyes at you, obviously not believing a word you’re saying. “penny for your thoughts?”

“it’s nothing, hyuck. go back to playing.”

you used his real name. haechan let out a quiet sigh, took off his headphones and squeezed himself next to you on the bed. you swore you could hear jaemin and jeno yelling at him through his headphones for being afk, but before you could point it out, haechan already has you locked in, his arms snaking around your waist and his legs tangled above yours.

“have i ever told you that you’re pretty?” he whispered.

“sometimes.” you hummed.

“maybe i should be saying it more.” he quietly chuckled.

“you don’t have to.”

haechan scooted almost impossibly closer to you, his breath fanning your neck, the distance between your bodies disappearing.

“have i ever told you that i love you?”

you pause for a moment, guilt creeping into your system. “always.” your boyfriend was one who never shyed away from expressing his feelings. he made sure you felt loved, you hear that you’re loved. his one question was a message to you – ‘i love you, yet why do you feel that way?’ why do you feel so insecure in your relationship when he has never failed to appreciate you? to love you?

“i love the way your forehead scrunches up when you focus.” he started, his fingers softly touching and gliding over your bare arms.

“i love the way you get excited when i come home with cheesecake.” he lightly laughed at the thought as his hands travelled up to your face, cupping your cheeks and making you face him. “i love the way you’re so goddamn bad at valorant, yet you play with me when i ask you to.”

“i think about you all the time. your smile, your hands, your face, your laugh. i think about you before i sleep, the moment i wake up, everytime i eat. it’s you that i see. you’re running through my mind all day it’s . . “ he let out a somewhat exasperated sigh. “you’re the only person who makes me this insane, y/n. really.”

“i love you, y/n. you and only you, just the way you are. forever and always.” his voice was much quieter now and his grip around your waist tightened.

“i’m sorry.” was all you could croak out

“it’s okay. i love you. remember that.”

the two of you were silent for a moment. the guilt in your system slowly subsided into feelings of gratefulness – you were thankful he noticed something’s wrong with you quickly, and you were also thankful he knew how to snap yourself out of it.

“wanna watch a movie?” you suggested.

“i’d like that.” he giggled. he slowly snaked himself away from you to get the tv remote, but his movement halted when you called out his name.

“donghyuck?”

his real name. again. he turned back to face you once more.

“i love you, too. forever and always.”

he grinned, moved closer to you and gave you a light peck on the lips.

“i know.”

a/n: i have returned. haechan making me feel things lately god im so in love w him it’s insanejfksmd.

#nct dream #nct #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct dream scenarios #haechan #haechan x reader #haechan fluff #haechan imagines #haechan oneshots #haechan drabbles #haechan timestamps #haechan headcanons #lee donghyuck

2K notes · View notes

generalsdiary · 1 month

Text

what if ratio breaks down and falls apart?

Dr. Ratio (x Aventurine at the end)

warnings: mental breakdown

word count: 1.9k

a/n: lots of ppl seemed to like this idea so here it is, not beta read, ffs come home aventurine

description: Dr. Ratio breaks down (angst), Aventurine mentioned/shows up at one point (fluff dare I say)

his hands shook immensely with the keys in his hand, the heavy doors open and close. he can feel it. he can no longer hold on. being a victim of routine, he manages to push on just a few moments longer, to put away his bag, lock the door, and take off his shoes. few steps through the hallway and it is over. his body trembling as his chest swells up with pain and sadness, so many emotions mixed up in one. filling up in his throat like a peach pit, choking him and making it harder to breathe. he falls to his knees, his breathing heavy, rapid, and irregular. in moments like these, he knows how to take care of himself, how to help himself, how to fix this. but it is too much. he can't. he also... why does everyone get to break down but not him? he can barely breathe in and breathe out, as many thoughts fill his mind.

eyes filling with hot tears except he cannot cry that much, he has always been incapable of actually crying and letting it all out.

like a water dam overflowing and drowning him along with it. the dam filling with water and using it in useful ways until the workers don’t show up, the tools get clogged, old, and broken. the dam overflows. nature always comes back to take its due, to pick up the price, especially human nature.

he isn't enough. he will never be enough. it is a fool's job, what he is trying to achieve. how could he ever spread knowledge everywhere, making it available to everyone? how is that being realistic? hopeful fool, he knows better than to hope. an idiot. a failure. why did he even think he could be capable of doing that? the aeons were right to not recognize him, he isn't worth their attention- he keeps failing. isn't it the definition of insanity to keep doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome? not enough. never enough. such expectations were put on him and he jumped to fulfill them- and when he didn't achieve the last one- to become a true genius, then he failed. failed the mold he was put in. failed the beliefs of everyone around him and their expectations. they were all wrong; everyone who said he could do something, become someone relevant, someone who matters and makes a significant change. and the things he did, well they were never perfect and always could have been done much better. for fuck's sake he fails his students, just how many get the actual knowledge, and how many give up? he isn't good enough, he should be better, and get the knowledge across in a way everyone would accept and know and learn. why is he not good enough? he keeps trying and it is never enough. not once has the universe said, ‘okay, you have done enough, you can rest now.’

why does he keep trying? and he is alone in all of it. who is there who cares for him- who puts his view of self aside, who can.. please.. who can please view him as a human.. a person.. just... as someone who doesn't need to be extraordinary- can he be loved in such a way, appreciated? who would care for him? when all that is said about him is that he is rude, when he only tells the truth and tries to help, he is told that he is insensitive, egotistical, and he is so far from it. why does everybody hate him? aeons, he hates himself. why was he born, created like this? it would've been so much easier to have been born an idiot, dumb, to work a normal job, and be happy.

he stares at an empty spot as these thoughts overtake him, and then he sobs as the next ones come... he wants to be held, oh so much. to be embraced, to be cared for, thought of in a positive way, for his name to be called with love. no one is enough, he isn't enough.

his thoughts keep spiraling in a whirlpool, almost like he is frozen in space. eyes fixed, hands shaking and the occasional warm tear falling down his cheeks, which are now red and hot.

his skin feels like it is burning, the clothes on him overwhelming him but he cannot move, it hurts, it all hurts. why does it hurt so much? this vicious cycle never ends. how could he stand up again when he is falling apart at the seams? is he worth it at all, the life he lives, if he cannot even help himself? he will never be enough. he wants to shout, to yell in frustration and anger- all swallowed in his throat while he continues to sit.. broken on the floor.

his thoughts become more incoherent, how could he.. why.. help.. not enough.. and so on. curses, hatred directed at himself, sorrow, and pity. his ears deaf at any sound, he is so lost in his mind, it is like he isn't even there.

this isn't the first time, but it was never this hard. he picked himself up before; standing, going automatically around his home to take care of his basic needs. but now he has no hope, no care for it, he cannot move. immobile and lost, so… so deep in this vortex.

the doors open and close. there's a voice, he doesn't even register it, “..tas?... home?”

the person makes a few more steps and sees Veritas, sitting on the ground. Veritas manages to register distant footsteps, rushed- it doesn't matter; he isn't even there. only his body is.

the person sits down in front of Veritas and hands him a glass of water. his eyes are unfocused, he appears still, hands on the floor with a slight tremor, cheeks shiny from the tears and a warm red color. instinctively he accepts the glass and drinks the water. the cool fluid makes him consciously blink and float back to the present moment. he registers the voice of the person in front of him.

“Veritas.. I'm here, good- the water is good for you- I'm here, alright?” his eyes focus on the blond man sitting in front of him. Aventurine's eyes are filled with worry and his hands cup Veritas' face, caressing slowly. his voice is calm, “you will be fine- I got you, okay?” Aventurine nods to himself more than to Ratio. his hand moves to the indigo hair, pulling his fingers through the soft locks in a comforting manner. Veritas' eyes are trained on him, full of pain and heartbreak, yet his face is neutral, so hurt.

“your head got to you again? I keep telling you- don't listen to it- it isn't right it only says mean things which aren't true. do you hear me?” the only thing he gets in response is a slow blink from the taller man. and it is enough.

“it tipped over, it isn't as bad as your head claims- don't listen to it, listen to me, focus on me. I’ve got you, I'm here-“ he pulls Veritas into his chest, cradling him in a way. “-and I'm not going anywhere”

fresh tears soak Aventurine's shirt. it hurts to be cared for, to be seen, and for that person to stay and not leave.. it feels undeserving and it just makes him cry harder. he sobs into Aventurine's shoulder, breaking down fully. his voice comes out high-pitched, breaking, “I... I.. it is so hard-” he sobs harder and tightly embraces Aventurine.

“I'm here, you will be okay, this will pass, I have you, don't- don't struggle against them, focus on me, please?” Aventurine pulls away to raise Veritas' chin and meet his eyes, those sunset eyes filled with tears. and he weakly nods.

“focus on me, my voice, Doc, focus on my voice. and I'm warm- you can feel it yes? my chest is warm and my hands- my scent- you can smell the perfume right? focus on me, ground with me. leave that dreadful place- it never did you any good.” he continues using safe words, repeating them, and when Veritas manages to get a grasp on reality once more; he feels empty, numb and Aventurine takes care of him. Aventurine helps him eat a proper meal, bathes with him where he holds him close against his chest, kissing his temple, and repeating that everything will be okay.

Aventurine holds him tightly in bed and whispers only the softest affirmations. before Veritas falls asleep, Aventurine mumbles kind words with his fingers in his hair.

he stays mostly awake that night, just in case Ratio wakes up in distress or from a nightmare. he doesn't mind it. he cares for him, if needed he'd pick his pieces up every day and help him put himself back together. Veritas is his, and he will always be there for him.

the morning turns out to be a slow one. Veritas would tiredly gaze at Aventurine, the blond man asleep into the late morning, and he wouldn't dare start his day- not yet, not now, not without him. Veritas' thoughts are slow this early in the day, they are quiet. he simply observes the younger man. finding some type of solace in it. he doesn't dare touch him as if the beautiful man was a statue made of glass and might break from a single touch.

when his eyes do open he hums and moves to press his face into Veritas' soft chest.

like it is the first time, Ratio is surprised, frozen for a few moments before he relaxes and embraces Aventurine.

“sleep well?”

he nods.

“I rescheduled my stuff, and I hope you will yours too-“, Veritas interrupts him, “..I did.” his voice quiet, monotone.

“today.. today will be easier, okay?” he raises his head, looking up. “I will be with you as long as you need and then some. please be kind to yourself. you need it” he whispers the last sentence and presses his lips into Ratio's cheek.

“I'll try... thank you.. for.. yesterday, dear gambler”

Aventurine nods, “I love you,” he says, easily, as if he didn't have to think those words through before he said them but it conveyed everything he wanted them to say. that he would be there for him, that he'd take care of him, that he would be his.

slight shock is obvious in Veritas’ eyes, that he would be loved gives him a stutter in his response. he feels so vulnerable, bare and naked in front of him. his emotions nude especially after being seen in the state he was in yesterday and despite that... or perhaps specifically because of it... Aventurine said that. with fear, felt on both sides, but also assurance that this is right, that it is a fact he softly says, “I... I love you too.”

beat. both staring into the other's eyes. Veritas cups his cheek. thumb drawing small circles, voice but a whisper, “please don't ever leave me” in that moment he is baren, vulnerable, his cards are on the table for the gambler to gamble off or hold tightly to his chest and fold.

Aventurine answers quickly with a small nervous smile, “the same goes for you too, Doc”

with all those emotions being so loud and scary, Veritas cannot keep up a coy act and even when he does Aventurine sees right through him.

“I promise” Veritas utters and seals it with a soft kiss.

#honkai star rail #dr ratio #hsr #dr ratio angst #analysis #dr ratio fluff #aventurine #aventurine x dr ratio #veritas ratio #aventio #raturine #ratiorine #comfort #veritas ratio angst #hurt/comfort

147 notes · View notes

sorchathered · 4 months

Text

Sacred New Beginnings

Chapter 5

A/N- this is NOT a finale guys! After much deliberation I decided I have too much to say for only 3 chapters, so we are on this train until I’m ready to give it up! 😂

Summary- it’s the morning after Mav and Penny’s wedding, and there are revelations to unpack as new drama unfolds.

Song inspo- Sunday kind of love- Etta James, You send me- Sam Cooke, Ironic- Alanis Morissette, Karma- Taylor Swift

Pairing- Jake Seresin x reader (oc Stormy)

Warnings- language, drinking, smut (wrap it up kids) minors dni.

Bradley wakes up to one of the worst hangovers he’s had in his adult life. He made it home and proceeded to drain most of his liquor cabinet after the wedding, it had been a bad day all around and seeing you and Jake wrapped up in each others arms after years of worrying was the icing on the cake. He knew logically he had no room to be pissed off, you knew everything now and there would be no salvaging your love life. He had hoped to explain it himself, maybe find a way to convince you it was nothing but in reality he knew that wasn’t the case. He’d continued a relationship with Mirage after you left, whether or not it was just sex didn’t really matter, he’d slept with someone else. His therapist had told him weeks ago that he believed Bradley was in love with the idea of love and having a family, less in the people he was in relationships with and while it had hurt to hear he knew somewhere in him it was true.

He’d loved the attention and adoration from his partners, and some part of him had loved Stormy once; but the two of you disagreed fundamentally on so many things. You were career driven, he wanted you to retire in the next 5 years so you could start a family, he wanted to stay in California and you had always dreamed of settling down south near your grandmother’s old home. When he’d seen you becoming more successful than him it had set a fire in him and he used it to burn your relationship to the ground. He didn’t deserve you, and he certainly didn’t get to dictate who you chose to be with after him.

As he stumbled through the house to let out his dog he appraised the damage. His clothes were scattered everywhere, liquor cabinet raided and somehow he’d left the fridge open. He was a mess right now, if his mother could see him she’d be so disappointed. He finally finds his phone in the couch cushions, messages and missed calls from Nat and Rueben clogging his notifications. He couldn’t dig into all of that right now, so he just called Nat to let him know he was ok, yanking the phone from his ear as she screamed into the phone.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!”

“Jesus dude I was asleep what the hell is wrong? You have a key you could’ve just come over if it’s that serious, who died?”

“Bradley. You haven’t been on instagram today have you?”

“No, but I already know about Jake and Stormy so if they went instagram official I’d rather not-“

“Wait what?! Never mind that’s not what this is about. You need to go to Mirage’s profile, right now.”

Bradley scrolls through the app and clicks on her profile, expecting to see she decided to stop waiting on him and find a boyfriend now or something stupid like that, only to be met with a carousel of photos. Pictures of the two of them, and at the end a picture of a pregnancy test, two pink lines confirming something he never dreamed of. Not only had she hard launched them, but she also told the world he was going to be a father…without confirming with him first. He was fucked.

——————————————————————

Meanwhile on the other side of North Island Jake is waking up to his version of heaven. His bed may be empty but he can hear the soft sound of you singing, and the smell of coffee and pancakes has him wandering down the hall. Your hair is in a messy knot, you’ve got one of his Texas longhorn t shirts on and you and Patsy Cline are crooning “Walking after midnight.” Flitting back and forth between chopping fruit and flipping pancakes, you sway to the song (your grandmother’s favorite) and he’s sure this is the best morning of his life. He sneaks up behind you to spin you and you shriek and giggle, swatting him with the spatula as he kisses your cheeks and forehead.

“Morning Tex, how’d you sleep?” You say with a big grin, running your free hand over his tanned torso and you catch him close his eyes and shiver into your touch.

“Mm, I’ll be honest darlin’ might have been the best night of sleep in my whole life, ‘cept I woke up alone and almost thought you were a dream.” He plucks the spatula from your hand and hip bumps you away from the stove, taking over your spot cooking and you make your way to the coffee pot to pour him a mug.

“I uh- I cancelled my flight for this afternoon” you’re trying to be nonchalant about it but you can tell by the way his head snaps up he is holding on to your every word.

“And I may have asked Uncle Beau for a favor and extended my leave for the rest of the week… I hope that’s ok, I’m not ready to leave you yet.”

You look a little nervous as he turns the stove off and looks at you, but he takes two big strides and yanks you into his arms, pulling at your (his) shirt and kissing you hard and you know you had nothing to worry about.

You both laugh into each other’s mouths, he’s hoisted you into his arms and delicately places you on the kitchen table, rucking your shirt above your breasts as he nips and sucks on the exposed skin.

“Jake- breakfast” you breathe out and he grins up at you between your thighs

“I want you for breakfast first baby, then we can have pancakes. Be a good girl and take it ok?”

He brings you to your release three times before he lets you up, grabbing the plates from the counter and sitting you in his lap. Between bites you reach into his shorts and pull him free lining yourself up with him and he hisses into your mouth.

“What’re you up to sweet thing?”

“Shhh, wanna be close baby, need you”

You take turns feeding each other while you slowly rock yourself on Jake, and it definitely is the best morning either of you have ever had.

——————————————————————

Neither of you had even touched your phones since you left the wedding the night before, it was nearing 5 pm and you had spent the day watching movies and letting Jake fuck you in every room of his house, finally deciding the two of you needed to eat you dragged yourself to his room to get your phone off the charger to order takeout. When you turned your phone on you were bombarded with notifications, nearly deciding to just turn it back off once you noticed you had a notification from Bradley. You ordered dinner and continued to ignore the overwhelming amount of messages, annoyance etched on your face when you came back to the living room, and Jake reached for your phone already knowing you wouldn’t want to pop the perfect bubble of the day.

“You don’t have to look at any of this shit today if you don’t want to y/n, we can worry about it tomorrow.”

You sighed and ran your hand over your face, it wasn’t that easy even if he tried to make it that way. “Will you just look for me? Tell Nat I’m not interested in hashing out the drama tonight and we can talk at lunch.”

He nodded and scrolled through, but as you watched his face you immediately knew something was wrong.

“Ok maybe you do need to tell me, what happened? Is someone hurt?”

He shook his head but looked almost nauseous, so you yanked the phone from his hands, he didn’t even bother to try and keep it from you.

On the screen was almost 30 messages from Phoenix, begging you not to check instagram. It had been hours since her last message but she seemed insistent that you call her first. She picked up on the first ring, screeching into the phone before you could say anything.

“Jesus! Where the fuck have you been Stormy? I had half a mind to come over to Hangman’s to beat the door down.”

“We decided to shut our phones off, sorry Tash. What is wrong? Please tell me everyone is ok.”

“Everyone’s safe, it’s not that kind of emergency. But it’s not good y/n. Bradley apparently saw the two of you last night, and then…”

“Then what? What Nat?”

“Y/n…Mirage is pregnant.”

——————————————————————

You knew it was the wrong way to respond, Jake had dropped his fork right out of his mouth at Nat’s declaration; that definitely seemed like more of a normal response. You on the other hand looked unhinged as doubled over in laughter, gasping for air as tears poured from your eyes.

“Seresin, what’s happening? Is- is she laughing?”

Jake looks at you like you have 3 heads but still manages to take your phone from your shaking form,

“Yeah Phoenix it looks like it”

“Do we need to be worried?”

“Too soon to tell, let me figure this shit out and we’ll call you later.”

He hangs up and takes your hand, you’re coming down from it now as you swipe the tears from your face, still trying to stifle giggles.

“Oh God,” you gasp out “I’m so sorry, but you seriously can’t make this shit up can you?” You erupt into another round of giggles and now Jake can’t help but join in, this really is a shitshow.

Finally you settle and he looks at you with concern, but you wave him off and move your take out boxes to the coffee table as you scoot into his lap. Running your hands through his hair you lean in to kiss him and as much as he doesn’t want to he pulls back to get you to look at him.

“I’ll let you bury yourself in me if you need baby but you still gotta talk to me ok? What’s going on in that pretty head?”

You shake your head at him and peck his lips, you knew he wouldn’t let you get away with pushing it aside.

“Is it strange that I almost feel bad for him? He’s burned his whole world down, knowing what I know now I would never want to be around him let alone with him again, and while I have thrived in his absence he just keeps ruining his life. I don’t miss him, but I pity him. Does that make sense?”

It’s definitely not the response he expected, he thought you’d be hurt and that it would rehash all the emotional damage you’d dealt with, he can’t help but be impressed.

“You’re taking this a whole lot better than I thought sugar, I gotta be honest.”

You pull him close as you straddle his hips, running your nose along his cheekbone and press kisses to his face.

“Like I told you, I don’t miss him. I don’t want him. I want you. This isn’t avoidance Jake, I moved on and I want to spend the rest of my life with you if that’s what you want too. So can we stop worrying about Rooster and his emotional bullshit and just go back to being us?”

He lets you take the lead, settling into the couch with you and switching the long forgotten movie back on, whatever his wingman’s problems are don’t include him after all. He’s got bigger things on his mind, like getting you back to San Diego or requesting a transfer to Pensacola. Maybe getting the two of you a bigger house with a yard, a dog or two and a backyard big enough to fill with your own kids. As he falls asleep trapped under your warm embrace visions of what could be dance behind his eyes, and he makes a mental note to ask his mother for Grandma Seresin’s engagement ring.

Jake Seresin Masterlist

Thanks so much to @sailor-aviator, @mamachasesmayhem, and @bobgasm for talking me through this chapter!!

Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @attapullman @roosterforme @pinkdaisies9285 @djs8891 @jessicab1991 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @mygyn @angelbabyyy99 @86laura11 @shanimallina87 @floydsglasses @jostan456 @kmc1989 @dempy @its-the-pilot @mrsevans90 @purelyfiction @nouis-bum

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

#top gun maverick #jake seresin #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x you #jake hangman smut #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin smut #Jake and Stormy #sacred new beginnings #snb

101 notes · View notes

torukmaktoskxawng · 3 months

Text

through thick and thin

Pairing: Teylan/Gn!Sarentu!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for AFoP. Panic attacks, angst, trauma, mentions of grooming and abuse.

A/n: Another short idea I wrote up while playing AFoP

Taglist: @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter

~~~~~~~~~

He couldn't stop shaking.

The guilt and dread in his gut were too overbearing, clogging his lungs, and making it impossible to breathe. Every inch of his body shakes from adrenaline and fear, the weight of his actions crushing his chest.

Teylan has had panic attacks before, but this was the worst one.

And he wasn't sure if hearing your voice over the radio made it better or worse.

"Teylan? It's me."

Of course, it's you. You, the one who was closest to his age among the Na'vi children at TAP.

You, who stuck by his side whenever Mercer had beaten him.

You, who he had to wrap his little body around at night after losing Aha'ri when you were kids, terrified that he'd wake up and lose you, too.

You, who always brought something back for him from your travels to multiple clans, trying to help him get accustomed to your new way of life.

You, whose voice was full of concern and desperation, as you continued to talk through the radio when you didn't get a verbal response.

"Teylan. Talk to me. Where are you? I can come and bring you back to the Resistance."

He gulped in a small bit of air, realizing he had only been shakily breathing into the radio instead of speaking all his thoughts out loud, "No... Not there."

"Okay," you, ever the calming negotiator, tried to ease him into a sense of security, even without being able to see him, "Where do you want to go?"

"It doesn't matter," Teylan forces out even with tears running down his cheeks, "Nothing matters now."

"Everyone's worried about you, Teylan. I'm worried about you."

He bites back a sob, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest, "They're gonna be angry. You'll hate me, too. I did this."

"You can't blame yourself," you whispered gently through the radio, only strengthening his guilt.

Another sob shatters through him, "But I am to blame. He said nobody would die. He said."

"Who said?"

He couldn't help it, he kept talking, unable to stop spilling out all his sins, "We talked on my radio. He told me we could be together again. Like a family. And so, I told him when the party was happening."

"Wait. Mercer?" You finally realize what Teylan was trying to say, and he winced when he heard the tone of quiet disbelief in your voice, "You told Mercer things about us?"

"He needed to know when to arrive, so he could keep the soldiers away."

It wasn't an excuse. He just needed to reason with himself into believing this was all just some misunderstanding, or better yet, just a bad dream. He wasn't trying to convince you, just himself. He needed to feel convinced that he wasn't about to lose you for his betrayal.

"Let me come get you." 'To take you back to the people you betrayed.'

He wasn't sure if you actually said that or he imagined it. Nevertheless, it burned through his chest like a bullet, eyes widening with the most terrifying realization. He lost you. He lost you... helostyouhelostyouhelostyou--

"No. I don't belong there anymore. I have nobody now."

"Teylan? Teylan!"

He cut off the call.

~~~~~~~~~

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

#teylan #teylan x reader #teylan angst #teylan imagine #frontiers of pandora teylan #avatar teylan #teylan afop #afop teylan #avatar frontiers of pandora teylan #avatar frontiers of pandora #avatar x reader #afop x reader #afop imagine #frontiers of pandora #afop #frontiers of pandora imagine

70 notes · View notes

dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 9 months

Text

Two Heroes, No Capes

Summary: Y/N is in trouble, and she knows just who to call for help.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: TW descriptions of a physical assault, mugging, violence implied, injuries, fear and shock, some discussion regarding sexual assault (no sexual assault takes place, or is described, but I want to be extra careful of people's triggers.)

Pairings: No romantic pairing. Jensen Ackles x teen!reader, Jared Padalecki x teen!reader

Word Count: 1,686

A/N: I got a request from the dear @kayyay1219 :

Ok so I’ve been in a J2xteen!reader phases for a while and I can’t help but want another one. So, I was thinking that the reader was out in the city by herself and she gets assaulted by a group of guys and she calls Jared and Jensen for help. So they come to her rescue and they see how bad her injuries are and they take her home and help her clean up.

So, this was what I came up with. I'm so sorry this took SO long to get to you hon! I hope you think it was worth the wait. ❤️

A/N 2: As always, this story is about a Jensen and Jared from a different part of the multiverse and doesn't reflect anything to do with their real life. This is a complete and utter work of fiction. 😊

The beautiful dividers below and at the bottom were created by @saradika

The fear was still pumping in her veins, the relentless throb making the newly formed bruises hurt a little more. Y/N raised her hand, and brushed her fingertips across the gash above her eyebrow. When she pulled her hand away and saw the blood dripping from her fingers, her panic increased.

A rational, calming voice floated into her wildly careening mind, speaking softly, deep and soothing.

It's okay, princess, head wounds bleed a lot, it's probably not as bad as it seems.

She nodded absently to the voice and tried to take an inventory of what was hurting. Her head was pounding, a result of being punched in the face twice, no doubt, but she’d also smacked the back of it on the concrete when they'd pushed her backwards.

Probably a concussion, the voice told her.

Her ankle was badly sprained, she knew, from when she'd tried to sprint away from them and lost her footing in one of the cracks criss-crossing the alley. Her body felt like one big bruise from where their fists had pummeled her as she struggled against them. She’d struggled, but they won - holding her down and taking her purse, her jewelry, and her new, expensive leather jacket. She breathed deeply and then grimaced in pain; she also thought she might have a broken rib.

Okay, princess, the voice said quietly, reassuringly, time to call for help.

Suddenly it was obvious to Y/N that the calm, caring voice in her head belonged to Jensen. Of course. She'd call the boys. One of them would likely be free to come help her.

She dialed Jensen's number, glad the thieves hadn't taken her phone from her jeans pocket. It was a shitty old thing, they probably hadn't thought it was worth the bother.

It rang twice before he picked up.

"Hey, darlin'. Need a ride into work? I know night shoots suck." He asked, a smile in his voice.

"No…don’t need a ride." Her voice was a croak, as tears and fear clogged it. Jensen heard immediately.

"Baby? What's wrong?"

"I need…I had…something happened. These guys, they jumped me…I didn’t notice them. I need someone to…I need help."

She heard Jensen's voice move away from the phone slightly as he called out.

"Jared! It's Y/N, she's hurt, come on!"

He spoke into the receiver again. "Hey, baby, everything's okay now." She actually smiled slightly; his voice was exactly as it had sounded in her head

"Just tell us where you are, and we'll be there right away."

“I’m in the…the alley beside my building.” She looked down at herself and the dirt and blood that stained the white tank top and jeans she wore. “I’m bleeding, and they…they wrecked my shirt, they tore it.”

Jensen’s voice became softer. “It’s okay, Y/N, we're in the car now. We’re less than 5 minutes away. Jared’s calling the police; do you need an ambulance?”

Y/N shook her head before realizing that Jensen couldn’t hear her head shake. “No.” She said.

Her teeth began to chatter and her whole body began to vibrate as shock took over. “I don’t want…don’t wanna go to the hospital. I’m…I just want to go home. I can’t…I don’t think I can walk on my own, my ankle is…and my head’s…I’m kinda dizzy.”

“No, sweetheart, don’t try to move on your own. We’re so close now.” As he said it, Y/N could hear the screech of tires a block away as Jensen’s pickup truck squealed around the corner of her street and headed towards her block.

She heard doors open and slam shut, and seconds later, Jensen and Jared loomed large, solid and reassuring at the entrance to the alleyway, silhouetted against the streetlights behind them. She sighed first, and then started crying.

They were here; she was safe.

They ran towards where she sat in the middle of the alley, skidding to a stop beside her and crouching down. The light in the alley was terrible, but Jensen did a quick sweep with his hands to see if anything seemed broken, while Jared held her gently, allowing her tears to seep into his t-shirt.

Seemingly reassured that there were no broken bones, Jensen scooped her up and carried her to her apartment. When they finally had her settled on her couch, with the lights shining bright overhead, she watched the fury bloom on their faces as they got their first good look at her injuries.

“Who did this to you?” Jared asked as he sat down beside her and took her hand in his.

Jensen answered, his voice chillingly cold.. “Dead men. Dead men did this.”

Jared shook his head. “Jensen.” He said warningly. “That’s not helping.”

Jensen’s jaw clenched and unclenched several times before he took a deep breath. “You’re right. Killing them can wait.”

He walked away and returned a half minute later with a first aid kit and a cold cloth. He ran the cloth incredibly gently across her forehead and cheeks, and the coolness felt wonderful against her throbbing skin. They both spoke softly and reassuringly, and Y/N just let their words flow into her, and calm her racing heart and shaking limbs.

As the boys took turns using the first aid kit to tend to the cuts and bruises across her face, Jared seemed like he was working up to saying something. Finally he looked at Jensen and shook his head. In their usual silent communication, Jared seemed to be passing the conversation to Jensen. Y/N was curious what they were trying to say, so she finally just grabbed Jared’s hand where he was cleaning the particularly deep gash above her eyebrow.

“What is it?” She asked, worried her injuries were more dangerous than she’d thought. Maybe she should go to the hospital.

Jensen answered; he was on his knees in front of where she sat on the couch, but he still had to duck his head a bit, to be able to look her in the eye as he spoke.

“Baby, you said…earlier…”

He took a breath, and tried again. “Sweetheart, you know nothing you say will change how much we love you, and we’ll…we’ll do whatever you need us to do.”

Y/N nodded; she did know that. From the moment she’d shown up on the set of Supernatural, the boys had taken her underwing like protective fathers, and even welcomed her into their homes happily, treating her as simply another member of their busy, beautiful families. They were the protectors and champions she’d always wanted, but had never been lucky enough to have. She trusted them and their love for her completely.

“So…” Jensen continued. “You said that, when I was talking to you before, you said that there was a group of people. They were guys?”

Y/N nodded.

“And you said…” Jensen gritted his teeth again harshly. “You said that they’d…ruined your shirt…tore it? Baby.” He pulled her shirt together where it was torn at the neck. “Baby, did they…hurt you?” At first Y/N was confused. Of course they hurt her, she was bruised and bleeding. But then she heard the way he put emphasis on the word “hurt”, and realized what kind of hurt he meant.

She turned red, and shook her head quickly, looking at her lap and ignoring the way her skull ached. “No. I mean…no, they didn’t…didn’t hurt anything that won’t heal. They tore my shirt when they were grabbing and ripping at my necklace.”

Her eyes went wide and then filled with tears as she turned to Jared. “The necklace you got me for Christmas. They took it.”

“Oh, darlin’, don’t worry. I’ll buy you a new one, I promise.” Jared said as he pulled her head gently against his shoulder.

Just then a knock came to the door. For the next half hour Jared and Jensen sat beside her as she gave a tearful accounting of the whole incident to the police officers who crowded into her small living room. They acted like twin pillars of strength, helping her through, and lending her their bravery when she needed it.

Finally, the police left, advising that she go to the hospital because of her head injuries. The boys agreed and then, when she said again that she really didn’t want to go, they insisted.

Finally she caved, and within the hour she was admitted for observation at St. Francis Memorial. The boys stayed with her all night. Y/N dozed from time to time, but the nurses came in regularly to wake her up and ask her simple questions like where she was born or how to spell her name, just to make sure her concussion wasn’t getting worse.

Whenever Y/N was awake, the boys would regale her with stories from when they were kids, stories from set, stories about their own kids. She had to keep telling them not to make her laugh so much - she had bruised ribs.

When the morning came, and the doctors were satisfied with her test results and with the results of the CT Scan they’d done the night before, she was discharged and the boys took her home. By the time she got there, she was exhausted beyond belief. So, they simply tucked her up in her bed, and then pulled up chairs to sit beside her.

“You guys don’t have to stay.” She said with a deep yawn. “You must be exhausted too.”

They both raised their feet onto the bed beside her and leaned back in the chairs. “Yeah,” Jensen answered, “but we’re good here.”

Y/N considered arguing against their overprotectiveness, but admitted to herself that she needed it right now. So, she simply smiled at them, and snuggled deeper into her soft pillows and cozy blanket.

“Love you guys.” She said sleepily. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it kiddo.” They said together.

Love it when they talk at the same time, she thought to herself with a smile as she drifted off to a peaceful sleep, knowing she was completely safe, with her heroes so nearby.

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous

#jensen ackles #jared padelecki #jensen ackles rpf #jared padalecki rpf #jensen x teen!reader #jared x teen!reader #no romantic pairing #hurt/comfort #tw: physical assault

134 notes · View notes

markie-baby · 5 months

Text

If You Love Me | pt.1

🌹AngstFluff/Smut (18+ MA) Part II 🌹Black Female Reader x Mark Tuan 🌹shower sex 🌹Your boyfriend Mark has been away on his first solo tour for his album, The Other Side. You haven't seen him in months and something is...off. Now that he's back home, there are a few things you need to get off your chest. 🌹20 notes, and I'll release pt. 2 ~

You stared intently at the last text messages your boyfriend sent you.

(7:00 pm) Markie-moo💜: I just landed😁

(7:05 pm) YAYYYY💕 can't wait to see youuuuuuu

(7:05 pm) you sure you don't need me to pick you up?

Read 7:09 pm.

(7:10 pm) Markie-moo💜: I'm sure😊 I need to go by the studio real quick, then I'll be omw

(7:10 pm) Markie-moo💜: I can't wait to see you, beautiful🖤 I've missed you so much

(7:15 pm) Okay💕 Let me know when you're otw home... I've missed you more!

Read 8:30 pm.

You glanced up at the time on your screen...It's 11pm.

"Your father is very late." You sighed at Milo, who could only look up at you and tilt his head as if he understood the severity of you using the word 'Father' and not 'Daddy'.

The television screen shined through the tall bottle of red wine that sat on your living room table, which casted a shadow on an open bag of gummy bears. You already started snacking on them an hour into waiting for Mark to get to your apartment, and only just realized that you obliterated half the box already. You spent the past three days gearing up for Mark's arrival from his first album tour; aimlessly cleaning your place, cooking all of Mark's favorite foods, buying wine, and meticulously sprinkling rose petals all over the bedroom. You even got dressed up and wore that perfume he liked on you... only to find yourself feeling silly, scratching the belly of his furry baby, as your bones grew stiff waiting for him.

Regrettably, you couldn't deny that you weren't surprised he was a little late. The strongest part of your relationship with Mark was first and foremost, honesty. Mark hated lies and had never told you one himself. Which is why it was so obvious that he has been lying for the past few months. Badly. I was stuck at the studio and I lost track of time, being the most frequently used of the bunch. You'd find him speaking in a low tone for phone calls, rarely letting you use his phone or laptop, and getting absorbed into his phone screen. He started becoming distant... becoming someone completely different from the man you met. You started suspecting he was cheating.

You moved to LA six years ago to pursue owning a business and had no intentions of having a long-term relationship. Mark was a little timid towards you when you first met him through a mutual friend. He never said much outside of the realm of "Hi", "How are you", and "How are you doing?" But as you stuck around more and more, you couldn't help but be drawn to him. You felt connected talking to him about your aspirations, hopes, and fears, knowing that he was always there to listen and share some of those same feelings. It also helped that Mark was (and still is) the most beautiful man you've ever met in your life. Every time you met up with him, you found yourself drinking up all his features; from his pink, heart-shaped lips that opened to a breath-taking smile, to his deep, dark, entrancing eyes. The last time you got lost in Mark's eyes as his best friend, was when your business hit an all-time low.

"I just don't know, Mark..." you sobbed through clogged sinuses. "I don't think I can't still support myself if my business can't make more sales."

Mark was only inches away from you on your couch as you cried into your fetal position.

"Hey, hey..." Mark gently placed his warm hands on your shoulders. "Don't think like that. You've done amazing so far... There has to be something else you can do to get your sales up."

"Well..." You poked your head out briefly. "I could do more marketing... but I already spent so much money on marketing and-"

The tears started reforming in your sore eyes as you hid your head back into your knees. Silence hung in the air like a bad joke as the idea of complete failure circled in your head... You would have to leave the life you worked so hard to build in LA, only to return home to square one, with your tail between your legs. You weren't ready to leave your hard work, your home, your friends, or Mark...

"Y/N..." You felt Mark leaning closer to you with a rasp in his voice. "Look at me."

You reluctantly looked into the eyes of your friend, and suddenly, all the anxiety and fear that you felt only seconds ago, felt like forgotten emotions. His eyes seem to pull you into their calming, deep brown pools.

"Ever since I met you, I have seen you fight and work hard for this. I've admired your passion, and how dedicated you are to your dreams... It's one of my favorite things about you. You can't give up on this now. Not after you worked this hard. Not after you've built this life for yourself all on your own... Not to mention how hard it would be to say goodbye to you if you leave."

"Mark..." You felt your heartbeat in your throat.

"I care about you... and I hate seeing you struggling like this. If you need help, why didn't you ask me?"

"I just didn't want to inconvenience you... I know you've been busy in the studio and doing photoshoots I-... just figured that could do this on my own. Like I've always done everything on my own."

Mark's eyes trailed yours, slowly inching to your nose then your lips...

"You don't have to do this alone." You felt Mark snake his long fingers in between yours. "I'll be there for you... like always."

The bubble developing in your throat was an indication that the waterworks were rising again. Up to this point, Mark has been the most supportive, honest, sweetest, considerate, and the most chill person in your life. He's always been there to listen to whatever you had to tell him; what you see each other doing in the next few years, or a late-night drunken rant about pineapples on pizza. And whenever Mark called, you would drop everything just to hear how his day was. Whenever you hung out with him, you could be alone or in a group of other people, it was like it was just you two. Your soul mate...

You looked into Mark's eyes again, feeling your heart start to race... in your trance, your eyes wandered across his face, admiring how the low glow of the Livingroom television showed his soft textured skin. How his hair was poofy since he raced over to you from his nap. Sometimes you felt like you didn't deserve someone this amazing and supportive to be in your court. But Mark was just your cute little blessing on top of all the other ones. Overcome with emotion, you crash into Mark's arms and held him tight.

"Thank you so much, Mark. For everything." Your stress left your body in a big sigh. "I love you..."

You felt Mark's arms around your waist slowly pull you closer to his body and his face buried into the crook of your neck.

"I love you more..."

You replayed his response in your head as you held on to him.

"I love you more" Thump.

"I love you more" Thump-Thump.

"I love you more" Thump. Thump-Thump-Thump. Thump.

Your heart started to race. Goosebumps raised when Mark's breath lightly brushed your neck, and you felt his strong heartbeat thump against your chest. What was this feeling? You were scared to pull away, frightened of getting lost in his gaze again.

"Um, right s-so..." You cleared your throat. "Thanks again, Markie."

You tried pulling away... but found that Mark's grip was still tight around you.

"Wait..." He spoke in a low tone that made your spine shiver.

Your heart felt like it was going to climb out of your mouth. Of course, you've been this close to Mark plenty of times before, you guys have practically held hands before. But there has never been this type of tension hanging in the air. It was almost suffocating. You looked into Mark's eyes for some sort of sign... but damn, he was looking so gorgeous. Your eyes traced his whole face; every curve of his pink lips, every line in his jaw & every eyelash sitting upon his beautiful eyes. Oh, his eyes... they seemed to sparkle... and they were intently fixed on your mouth. Instinctively, your hands made their way up to his jawline, which produced a small sigh from Mark's parted lips.

He was slowly closing the space between your faces. The heat started to rise in between your ears, as you battled with the thought of kissing your best friend. If you did, you could be either making the best decision of your life... or ruining a friendship with a man you cared for deeply. But you couldn't deny... you wanted him. With every heavy breath that Mark breathed, with every second his hands tightened around your thighs, with every inch that his lips drew closer to yours... your desire for him grew. The realization that you loved him grew.

"Mark-"

With the most genuine softness, Mark closed the painful gap between both pairs of lips. Both of your bodies were lost in each other... neither of you realized just how steamy your little make-out session got. You became a couple shortly after, with this year being your third year together.

With each passing day, you felt more frustrated in your conflicted feelings. On one side, you were upset at him... but more at yourself for letting the situation grow. On the other hand, you felt the yearning for him grow hot and restless in your core, and eventually, you couldn't help but touch yourself out of the thought of him. The way his dark, loose curls flop over his forehead, the sparkle in his eyes, the sincerity of his smile, the sweetest of his cologne, the slight curve of his lips, the softness of his skin, the heat of his breath-

You snap out of your trance when you hear the jingle of keys at the door. You tap your screen back to life. It's 11:55 pm.

"I'm home!" Mark poked his head through the door at beamed at you on the couch.

"Mark..." You couldn't help but sigh.

"Babe!" Mark cheesed the brightest smile you've ever seen as his chest collided with yours.

His arms tightly squeezed around your waist as you heard him drink in your scent. Finally, your boyfriend was home, with a bouquet as bright as his smile. Almost instinctively, your nerves weakened in his warm embrace, and you melted around him. You forgot about everything you were ever upset about. With every bone in your aching body, you wanted to hold him... feel his skin gently graze yours, caress his adorable face, and shower him in kisses... but he still broke his promise. The one person in your life who was always truthful, real, and loyal... wasn't anymore.

"I missed you so, so much..." Mark whispered into your ear.

"Mark..." You pulled away from him. "What took you so long..."

"I'm sorry," He sighed. "I got tied up again-"

"Mark I..." You paused. "I've spent all of the past 3 days preparing all this stuff for you. And I have been... trying so hard to be so excited for you to come home. For you be in my arms again, to kiss you, to make absolute love to you..."

"What?" Mark's eyes widened.

"We need to talk about something."

Mark's smile slowly started to fade and the bouquet slowly lowered from his grasp.

"You've broken the one promise that we've had in this relationship... you lied to me, Mark. And you've been doing it over and over... And I'd hope that our bond was strong enough for you to realize that I would notice that."

"Hey-"

Mark gently placed the bouquet on the kitchen counter and held both of your hands in his.

"Do you truly think I'm cheating on you?"

You looked longingly into his eyes, only to be handed a cold, serious gaze in return.

"No," You bit your lip in hesitation. "You wouldn't do something like that. But I don't know what to think, Mark."

Mark sighed deeply...

"I leave for months and come back to a fight..." He scratched the back of his head in frustration. "You said that the one promise we made in this relationship was honesty, but you broke another one too. You don't trust me to be loyal to you?"

"I do trust you! But what am I supposed to make of this, Mark?" Your eyes stung.

Mark's cold gaze softened. "I have never had the thought of ever cheating on you and would never. I'm sorry that I was distant and made you feel that I wasn't being truthful."

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it until now..."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I've been waiting for forever just to get back home to you." You felt his warm hands caress your waist. "Can I please kiss my beautiful girlfriend now?"

"Yes." You breathed.

Mark snaked his hands further around your waist, and with a passionate firmness, pursed his lips between yours. You felt your body tingle with warmth and your heart beating heavily against your boyfriend's chest. A groan left Mark's lips as he left yours.

"Hey..." Mark's voice turned raspy as he eyed your body. "You deserve my honesty; The real reason I have been distant is because I was putting a lot of energy into planning something really important."

"Planning something...?" Your head cocked to one side. "For your album?"

"No, for you."

"For me..?"

Mark's lips cut your question short and derailed your train of thought.

"It's a surprise for later." You could feel a smirk developing on your boyfriend's soft lips. "Let me enjoy the surprise you have for me first."

Mark gazed over at the romantic display you made in the living room.

"Do you like it? I hope I didn't go overboard..."

"It's perfect." Mark looked into your eyes with the utmost sincerity. "And you even got me my favorite gummy bears? It's everything I could have wanted. And you being here with me makes it all better."

Mark infused passion into every aspect of his life, and his way with words was no exception. Surprisingly, conveying his feelings verbally wasn't always his forte in our relationship. However, he consciously broke free from the habit of murmuring, trailing off, and avoiding eye contact. Despite not being the most talkative when we initially met, the incomprehensible extent to which Mark went out of his way to express how much I meant to him was truly remarkable.

"I'm so glad you're home." You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend's torso and pulled him close.

"Me too." You felt a light peck on your forehead. "Why don't we get this night started?"

It was 2:45 am when the credits started to roll on the third horror movie that Mark insisted that you both watch. Unfortunately, he had been too invested to realize that you had fallen asleep since movie number two. You found the most heavenly spot on his chest to rest your head, and with his right arm snuggled gently around your torso and his left hand resting on your thigh, it was a guaranteed recipe for a great night's rest.

"The gore in that was something else-" Mark cut himself off when his eyes came to gaze on your sleeping figure.

Your face was adorably smushed up to Mark's chest, letting out soft breaths as you rested. All four of your limbs found themselves wrapped around his slim body, trapping him in your sloth-like embrace. Mark's eyes traveled and the bottom hem of your dress found itself dangerously hiked up to expose your smooth thighs.

Mark rubbed his hand against your thigh. "Wake up, babe."

You blinked your eyes awake and gazed upon the tired eyes of your boyfriend. "Oh shit, did I fall asleep?"

"Definitely. And I think you were snoring a bit, too." He joked.

"Oh stop." You rubbed your eyes to get a better view of the clock. "Oh shit, it's late..."

Mark's voice became hushed. "Maybe we should...continue this celebration upstairs?"

"You're ready for bed?"

"I am. But not necessarily sleep."

You smirked, picking up on his hint. "Oh, I see..."

Without saying another word, you took Mark's hand and guided him up the stairs, where you were greeted by the romantic glow of the moon.

"Oh..."

"You like it, right? I got rose petals, the candles are all lit..." You gestured towards the bathroom.

Mark pulled your hand back towards his body and planted a firm, hungry kiss on your lips.

"You are so sweet. This is amazing..." His warm hands caressed your cheeks. "How do I deserve someone as perfect as you?"

You could feel the heat of his breath on your lips. He was close, too close. The temptation to press your mouth to his was too much to handle. You could almost taste the mint of his toothpaste.

"I know I've been a little distant for these past few months." Mark started. "It's just... I've had a lot on my mind. There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about, but I didn't want to rush things."

"Yeah?"

"But now, I can't hold back." He cupped your cheek and brushed his thumb against it. You felt his gaze bore into yours, and he seemed to study every inch of your face.

"What is it, baby?" You pressed.

"I'm so in love with you. I love you so much that it hurts. I love how passionate you are, I love how you make me feel when we're together, and I love that you've been patient with me during this whole process. You're my rock. You make me want to be a better person. I want to be worthy of you."

"Mark, you already are." You gently held the sides of his face. "Don't say that. You are good enough, Mark. You have such a kind heart and a big soul. You're the most loving and caring person I know. Just don't get too caught up in your music, and start overworking yourself. You're not gonna find me there."

Mark let out a soft chuckle in response.

"You always know what to say," Mark breathed. "I need to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"I know that I was gone for a while, and I want to make it up to you. So, how would you feel about me taking you on a trip?"

"A trip?" You shot him a confused look. "Where would we go?"

"Oh, don't worry about that." Mark kissed the tip of your nose. "I'll take care of everything. Just be ready to leave for this weekend."

"Three days??" You giggled. "You really just planned a whole trip, huh?"

"Anything for you."

As Mark leaned in to kiss you again, you couldn't help but notice his scent. He smelled like the airport and the plane and everything else that was not his normal aroma.

"Speaking of jet setting, you smell weird," you chuckled.

"What do you mean?" he laughed back.

"I'm not sure, but you just smell different."

"Well, I should take a shower then," he suggested. "And maybe you can join me."

"Okay, but don't try any funny business." You smirked.

"What?" He feigned innocence.

"You heard me," you replied, wagging your finger at him.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see," he said, pulling you close.

"Wait and see, huh?" you repeated.

"Yeah, just wait and see."

You rolled your eyes and pulled away from him, making your way toward the bathroom. As you walked into the bathroom, you could hear Mark following closely behind. You pulled him toward the bathroom and turned on the shower, the sound of the water filling the small room. The sound of unzipping made your head turn to Mark, who was already undressing. You watched on in perverted wonderment at how his abdominal muscles flexed under his perfect skin as he moved to remove his underwear. He glanced over his broad, muscular shoulders, smirking while keeping eye contact as he bent down. You admired how his hair grew poofy from the steam beginning to form around him.

"Enjoying the view?" Mark's husky voice startled you, causing your eyes to snap to his face.

"Shut up," you said as you joined him, sliding the flimsy slip of material you wore onto the floor.

Mark's eyes burned with need as his gaze traveled up your legs, slowly drinking in the image before him.

"Damn..." he breathed as he raked his teeth across his bottom lip, his dark eyes meeting yours.

You smiled coyly at him as you stepped into the shower, closing the glass door behind you. Mark's eyes never left yours as he joined you in the warm spray of the water.

"Mmm," he hummed as he cupped your cheek and brought his lips to yours.

The kiss was soft and sweet at first but quickly turned passionate and needy. You ran your fingers through his damp curls as he pressed his hips into yours, his hardening length brushing against your stomach. His hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of your bare flesh as the water cascaded around you. You moaned softly as his lips found your pulse point, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth.

"I love the sounds you make," he growled as he gently nipped the delicate skin.

"Hey, don't forget that you have to take a shower, stinky." You chuckled.

Mark grinned and rolled his eyes, grabbing the bottle of shampoo that rested next to the tap.

"Okay, okay."

You watched in anticipation as he squirted some of the soap into his hand, before applying it to his hair. His eyes stayed fixated on yours, which flickered down briefly to take in his naked, glistening body. You couldn't help but admire his perfection, even when doing the most mundane task. How his pectorals flexed with every movement, as he brushed and lathered the soapy bubbles throughout his coils of dark brown hair. How his veins tightened from his arms to his hands, and how each drop of water seemingly dripped at a pace slow enough for you to memorize. Your gaze traced down from his chest to his abs, and even further down past the borderline of pubic hair where-

"Babe."

"Sorry, what?" Your eyes shifted back to his face.

"Were you paying attention?" Mark smugly raised an eyebrow.

"I was definitely paying attention..." You trailed off.

"So what was I saying?"

"You were saying, that I was being the best girlfriend ever!"

"Mm-hm."

"By making us dinner tonight."

"Mm-hm."

"And how your favorite gummy bears are an ample reward for me having to put up with you-"

"Alright," Mark chuckled as he laid his index finger on the seam of your lips. "Point made. You got me."

"Duh." You nipped at his knuckle. "You're so easy. What did you say, anyway?"

"Something..." Mark teased as he dunked his head back under the water, washing the remaining shampoo down his torso. "About how much I really, really, missed touching you. All of you."

You snorted. "You mean our little quickie at LAX before you left didn't cut it?"

"Is that what you call what happened at LAX?" He asked, pulling you close and pressing his arousal against you.

"Yes," you giggled. "Because that is exactly what we did. You were the one trying to miss your flight."

"I couldn't help it." He groaned. "It was just so hot."

"Oh shut up." You laughed.

You grabbed the bottle of body wash, poured some on your towel, and rubbed the soap into the cloth.

"Are you gonna help me or what?" You asked playfully.

"What do you think?" He replied, grabbing the other end of the towel and helping you rub the wet cloth along your body.

Your breath hitched as his hand moved from your ribs down to your hips and your mouth dropped open when you felt his fingertips graze your behind. You groaned loudly as Mark continued to caress your ass, his other hand sliding around your waist and pulling you into his embrace. You shuddered as he pressed his lips against your neck, murmuring words of love and encouragement in between every kiss.

"Why didn't you come with me on tour, again?" Mark asked as he continued massaging your skin.

"We talked about this, Mark," you replied, lightly rolling your eyes. "I wanted to be here and continue working. And I don't think I'm cut out for road life."

"But I wanted you there..." he pouted, making your heart stop. "I missed you like crazy."

"I missed you, too..." You turned to face him, seeing him still with an upset frown. You reached for his hands and gently ran your thumb over his knuckles.

"But I don't think I can spend another tour without my Markie-Poo," you admitted with a soft smile.

You looked up to see your boyfriend with the brightest grin you've seen him with in a long while. Mark immediately took the back of your head and pulled your face towards his in a loving embrace, getting soap all over his arms and torso...

"So you're telling me that the next tour I have, you're coming with me?"

" I promise."

"I could get used to having you near me every day," Mark whispered into your ear, his low voice sending shivers down your spine.

"I'd hope so," You replied. "It would be pretty confusing to accommodate another presence in our bed, otherwise."

You could see a pout starting to form on your boyfriend's lips. You loved how Mark could make a face of indifference switch from a stone-cold wall into a begging, adorable, child. The pout quickly melted away, however, and you were only able to appreciate its short existence for a split second. His eyes shifted from your own to your neck, his pale and slender fingertips gliding gently against your exposed collarbone.

"Hey..." You whispered into his ear. "What are you thinking about?"

Mark didn't speak. Only paused for a moment, as if contemplating what he wanted to say, but only getting lost in your beauty. Your breath hitched. His eyes were focused on yours as he inched closer to you. He never broke your stare until his hand suddenly reached up and he placed it ever so carefully against your cheek, causing you to inhale deeply. His eyes flickered over your face, resting for a brief moment at your lips, then back up to meet yours once again. His hand traveled from your cheek and made its way down to your chin, tilting your head up slightly. His lips met yours, softly and gently. He didn't push or rush. He seemed to savor the moment, pulling away just enough to let out a small whimper.

"Did you just moan?" He asked.

"Mmmm, maybe," you replied teasingly.

"If we weren't in the shower right now..." he started.

"Then what would we be doing, Mark?" You asked, grinning at him.

"Then," he said, his low voice rumbling as his hand wrapped around your waist, gently moving his face close to yours. "I would be taking you against the glass."

Mark kissed your forehead tenderly and continued his gentle ministrations against your skin.

"We would start slow," he began. "My hands would travel all over you, starting at your hips. I'd go over them over and over until I could feel you shake."

You bit your lip as Mark's movements matched his words. You could feel your cheeks warm from the way he talked. He had never talked to you this way. Never with the confidence and sultry tone of voice. Mark was normally a gentle, passionate, yet quiet lover.

But this was different. It was sexy. You loved it.

A moan escaped from your lips, unable to suppress the shiver that ran throughout your entire body. The mere thought of having him inside you caused your muscles to twitch and spasm. Mark chuckled lightly as he leaned into you, his hands still exploring your curves. You loved it when he held you. His touch felt so warm and comforting. It made you feel safe and protected, but at the same time, you loved how strong his arms felt against your frame. He felt so large compared to your small size and it gave you the most pleasant butterflies.

"After that I would pick you up, your legs around my waist," he said softly, pulling back a bit to stare into your eyes. "And then, I'd drive you insane..."

He emphasized each word as if he were whispering them into your ear, and his words left you breathless and speechless. Mark's voice had a way of making you feel things you've never felt before.

"Sounds like you really want to have shower sex," you said with a slight giggle.

He kissed you passionately as his hands glided back to your ass once again, gripping you firmly as he slowly lifted you in the air. You wrapped your arms around his slender neck, and your legs around his waist. As your curves pressed against him, you could feel his excitement, causing your eyes to widen slightly. You hadn't even touched him yet, and he was extremely excited for you.

Mark placed one hand against the shower wall for support and you looked into his beautiful brown orbs once more.

"Have you been wanting me, like I have been needing you?" He asked in a low and husky voice that sent shivers through your body. You answered him by pressing your lips against his and kissing him passionately. After a few seconds, Mark moved his kisses across your neck and down to your collarbone. He sucked on it lightly, causing you to gasp as your nails dug into his shoulders. He let out a small groan, and you couldn't help but laugh slightly. The man was adorable.

For five agonizing minutes, he tortured you with his mouth, and slowly lifted you higher. Your heart started beating so fast, causing a mixture of nervousness and excitement that blended perfectly.

"Relax babe," Mark cooed.

You took a deep breath, the smile not leaving your face, and nodded at him.

Mark entered your slit slowly, his length engulfing your walls slowly. You sucked in a breath and shut your eyes tight, letting yourself enjoy this feeling of being filled so completely by your boyfriend. He went deep, his entire length inside you now. He let himself stay there for a second, giving you time to get used to this new feeling. Then he pulled out a few inches before sliding back into you. He continued this process, slowly getting a rhythm, his thrusts growing in power. You moaned each time his length penetrated you.

"Yes..." you breathed and heard Mark moan in response.

He increased his pace even more, driving his length into you and then withdrawing completely with each thrust. Soon, the sounds of water splashing off your wet skin filled the room. Mark became a mess of grunts and pants every time he penetrated you, audibly teasing you toward your climax.

"Babe, you feel so-" A deep moan escaped your boyfriend's parted lips.

His breath was hot on your neck as he worked you towards your release, and it felt like electricity every time his skin touched yours. You had forgotten where you were, who you were, and what was going on around you, it was only you and Mark.

"Mark..." you moaned.

You couldn't hold off your orgasm any longer as waves of pleasure washed over your body. He continued his ministrations as you rode your high, and you watched him as you came down. You looked in awe at this beautiful specimen of a man standing before you as he held you in his arms. He just smiled at you and placed a kiss on your forehead.

Then he exhaled and put you down, slumping against the cold tile wall. His wet hair dangled over his blushed face. You smiled and placed a hand against his cheek, stroking it gently as you gave him another kiss, he kissed you in return, and the soft brush of his lips lingered as you pulled away.

"I love you," he said, his gaze fixed on yours.

"I love you, too."

You say "You took the energy out of me."

Mark smiled and leaned back against the wall. "I guess you could say that," he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you think you'll be able to get to the bedroom? Or do you need me to carry you?"

You slowly stood up, ceasing the sound of running water with your index finger. "Carry me, please!" You pouted and raised your arms.

Mark chuckled as he opened the shower door to retrieve your towels.

"Alright, alright, my queen," Mark threw your wet towel on your head, muffling your laugh. "I'll carry you to the bed."

You pushed the towel off of your face as Mark slipped his arms underneath your wet body and scooped you up into his arms.

"Mmm, you smell much better," you murmured as you nuzzled against his neck. Mark snorted and kissed the top of your head.

You were smitten by his scent and the way he handled you with such ease. He gently laid you on your bed, sinking in on top of you, like you had been daydreaming of for months.

"I've missed this," he whispered, "missed touching you, missed watching you sleep..." He brushed a strand of hair away from your face and gazed down at you like you were the only person in the world.

"I missed waking up next to you, seeing your face in the mornings, and hearing your voice at night."

He brought his lips to yours, softly and sweetly like he was afraid you would break. His lips tasted like the memories of stolen kisses in dark corners and glances behind closed doors. The more you tasted his lips, the more you craved, and you pressed into him, desperate for more.

"Baby, I've missed you so much," he mumbled against your lips, "and you don't understand how crazy it's been."

"No kidding," you replied, returning his kiss with equal vigor.

"Everywhere I went, fans were throwing themselves at me. All I could think about was you. All I'm ever gonna want is you."

Your heart skipped a beat at the confession. You pulled away to smile at him, taking in his beautiful face. It wasn't just his looks that captivated you; it was his mind and his heart. He was pure goodness through and through, and you knew you were the luckiest person in the world.

"And all I ever want is you," you replied. Mark cupped your face and stared into your eyes, his deep brown eyes pooling with emotion. "You okay, babe?"

"It's nothing...I just- I love you," he said, his voice cracking slightly, "so much."

You kissed him fiercely, overcome with emotion. "I love you a shit ton too."

Mark laughed, the corner of his eyes crinkling. "Well, you better. You won't be able to get rid of me that easily."

"Good."

Mark smirked and moved his head down, trailing kisses across your stomach and past your navel.

"What are you doing down there? Aren't you tired?"

Mark looked up, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"It would be a waste not to take advantage of the candles and rose petals, don't you think?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

To Be Continued.

#got7 #mark tuan #got7 mark #igot7 #kpop #got7 yugyeom #got7 jackson #got7 jb #got7 bambam #got7 kpop #got7 scenarios #got7 smut #got7 jinyoung #got7 youngjae #mark tuan fanfic #mark tuan smut #got7mark #black reader #black reader x idol

32 notes · View notes

devilfic · 2 years

Note

Hii!! I love your fics! Could you write a one shot of bruce being really insecure about himself and he thinks he isn’t good enough for the reader and stuff? and the reader comforting him? Just all fluff

❝at the front steps❞

plot: eventually, the well will dry up. eventually, your patience will wear thin. eventually, you will leave him. of few things he was more certain. unfortunately, how much you loved him wasn’t one of them. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff, established relationship, negative thoughts, mild mentions of blood. words: 1.9k.

a/n: mj write a story about bruce without bringing up his parents challenge level: impossible

When it was his father’s fault, Martha would take her ‘67 Mustang for a ride through the countryside. Sometimes it was an hour, sometimes three, but when it was time to go home, she’d pull up the driveway to Wayne Manor and Thomas would be waiting on the front steps for her. Bruce would always watch, transfixed, as the two shared words in much softer voices than they’d used earlier that day, and then they’d hug and kiss and usher Bruce into the house as if nothing ever happened.

When that didn’t work, she would take to the manor garage and pop the hood on her car, looking for problems she could fix. Bruce would slip through the door and watch as she worked until her muscles ached, until her anger dissipated, and then she’d look to where he always stood and invite him to come take a look. The garage was where she could find the right words, she’d told him.

He was a lot like his mother in that way.

Granted, it had been days since he’d dropped off the face of the earth. What took his mother a mere evening took him nearly a week, and there was no you waiting on the steps of Wayne Tower because Alfred was always there to send you away. He was aware he was cruel. Alfred made sure to remind him of it when telling him to eat and sleep and that you’d left another voicemail asking if he was alright.

The first few days had been routine. You’d known him long enough to anticipate long bouts of radio silence, waiting patiently for his call when he was ready. He’d gone a few days at most before, three maybe, before stopping by your home in the dead of night to prove he was still in one piece. Even with the crud in your eyes from broken sleep, you always looked that little bit happier seeing him.

But then three days turned into five, and five days turned into six, and Bruce had sent you to voicemail enough times to clog the answering machine.

It was no wonder you were standing in the cave now—tears in your eyes—instead of facing another half-baked excuse, “I’ve been racking my brain for what I could have said or done to make you hate me, but I keep coming up empty. And Alfred... he finally cracked, told me I should come see you.” You glance over to the sound system on his desk playing a low tune, “Good to know your phone still works.”

Bruce had no car to drive off in when his parents were angry with him. As a kid, that’s all you ever wanted to do when your parents were angry with you. Run away. But he’d run (and hid) already. And now you were here, at his doorstep, speaking softly through your heartbreak, “If you want to break up, at least return my calls. Or talk to me.”

You should be angry at him. You had every right to be. He preferred you to be. You’d been together long enough to deserve that much.

But instead, you approach him hovering under the hood of his Corvette and tuck his dangling hair behind his ear. Bruce full-body shivers. He can’t focus on his car anymore with your hand lingering so close to his skin, so he closes his eyes and imagines that he knows what to say. He can’t look at you and act rationally.

The steady drip familiar to the tunnels gave Bruce something to anchor himself to in the moment, a desperate something to help gather his thoughts. Because in truth, he wasn’t his mother. His mother knew to come back by sunset, and yet he…

When you pull your hand away, he finally looks at you.

The scar underneath your eye had only begun to heal over. He hadn’t been close enough when the skin was freshly severed, a weeping red wound that could’ve went deeper had he been just a little slower. You’d insisted it was nothing then, but in the split second it had taken for you to be hurt, he’d seen a million outcomes where you wouldn’t be standing here now. And it was all his fault.

“So that’s it,” you whisper when his eyes won’t meet your eyes, “that’s what this is about?”

He hates that he can see you going back to that moment in time. He saw you standing there every time he closed his eyes, an image of you smiling by his side one second and taken captive the next. Each time, he could only see himself reacting in slow motion. Bruce’s voice prickles around the memory, “You could’ve died.”

“But you saved me.”

“I should’ve seen it coming. I shouldn’t have even brought you there.”

“Seen what coming? Yeah, this is Gotham. It’s par for the course. I get it. But you don’t honestly think that every time we go out together, someone’s gonna hurt me, right?”

More than that. Bruce had seen every corner of this city a hundred times over, seen the same senseless violence enacted on men, women, and children alike. There were no safe bets even when you were supposed to be untouchable. He knew that better than anyone.

He didn’t just worry when you were out. He worried when you were here, some distant part of him looking through every window for a scope staring right back at him. Who lived next door to you? Who were your friends and your friends’ friends? Who was the last person to see you at night? Did you see them too?

It was unbearable. The only thing that made it easier to stomach was making sure of it himself. “I don’t want to.”

You pause. Bruce didn’t claim to know everything you thought. When you knew someone as inside and out as he did you, things were just clear. You’d thought better of your line of questioning and pivoted elsewhere, safer territory, “There’s no way you could’ve seen it coming. You’re not superhuman, Bruce.”

No. He knows better. He knows how flawed he is. Bruce is more than aware that he’s just a man.

It was hideous luck that he’d gotten to you before your assailant could do any serious damage. The knife had been so close to your throat (the same throat he laid his love upon time and time again, now haunting his mind with the thought of it split with blood). He was lucky that it’d only nicked your face, but he should’ve been faster. Had he been faster, had he not looked away for one second...

He was a just a man, and no matter what he wore and said and did to cover it all up, he was pure flesh and bone beneath. And he almost lost you because of it. “I can’t... be the man who takes you out. I can’t be spontaneous. I can’t take you on a vacation or a ride around the city. No matter where I go, they will only see me and you as an extension of me. And no matter how many nights I spend painstakingly making this city safer there will always be just one,” against his will, Bruce’s lip quivers, “just one. That’s all it will take. That’s all it took.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe I know that? That maybe I’m with you because I want to be with you?”

“You deserve better,” it’s mortifying how his voice cracks just then, all bravado laid bare for what it really was, “I’m not... I will never be a good enough man for you.”

“Bruce, you are the only reason I even feel safe in this city. Because I trust you and I believe in you, and I knew that you would save me. And if there ever were to come a day where... maybe it was just my time, know that I was so happy to love you. Know that every second I got to spend with you was worth it. Know that I chose you and I choose you everyday. Because I love you, Bruce. There is no ‘good enough’. There’s no getting better for me than you.”

He so badly wants to say that he isn’t worthy of that. He had spent so long convincing himself that the shadows were his only home, that he’d live and die there alone. He’d dug his grave as Batman, a ghost in life as in death. He’d never meant to be more than who he was the moment he chose to take up the mantle of the Bat.

And then you came into his life. You’d found his open door and slipped right in. Really, he had no reason to think you’d ever choose to stay when all his uneven parts started to unravel.

Only for you to help him put himself back together, one piece at a time.

His face easily finds your neck, nosing at your throat to breathe you in. It’d been so long since he’d last touched and smelled you that he was overcome with the need to remap the senses in his brain. “I shouldn’t have made you worry.” His voice is but a hush above the fluorescents buzzing overhead.

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you laugh, sniffling against his shoulder, “but you can make me worry all you like as long as you come back to me at the end of the day.”

Bruce’s face fits into the cup of your palms, cheeks twitching up with a bewildered laugh, “So you do want me to make you worry?”

“No! I just mean... well, worrying is part of it, isn’t it? Love? I’m sorry to say that as long as you love me, you’re gonna be worried about me. I’m just asking you to let me be there with you.”

“Okay.”

“You’re an amazing man, Bruce. You are more than enough.”

“...thank you.”

“Now say it back.”

Bruce’s nose scrunches up. You squeeze his cheeks for emphasis. “I... love you. So much.”

“Now that’s not...” A rarity: Bruce grins, teeth and gums and all, and you have no choice but to submit. He knew your weaknesses just as you knew his, after all. “I’m letting you off the hook only because I’ve missed you too much to argue anymore.”

It hadn’t made a lot of sense to him when he was little. Why it always worked with his parents. The few hours away, when it seemed that there could be no resolution, only to find each other at the front steps once more. But the days he’d spent far from you had been pure agony. He reckoned he could barely stand a few hours after this. Maybe less.

One day, he’d had the courage to ask his mother a burning question, “Why do you always come here when you and dad fight?”

Martha had given him the strangest look. Not because she hadn’t expected the question (How could she not? With those bright baby blues always observing), but because she didn’t know how to answer. A long moment passed between them before she did, “When you love someone and you hurt each other, you have to find a way to fix it. And fix it right. So, when I get... upset, Bruce, it helps to be alone. Until I’m ready to talk it through.”

“What about me? I’m here.”

Martha had smiled then, some grease marring the apple of her cheek, “That’s true. I suppose when being alone doesn’t work, being around the ones I love does the trick.”

taglist: @yikes-buddy

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman imagine #batman one shot #the batman #battinson x reader #mjwrites

687 notes · View notes

seiberries · 1 year

Text

august with isagi yoichi : short fic

isagi yoichi x fem!reader (hurt, bittersweet end)

warnings: none but it’s 3am and i’m listening to folklore + isagi is aged up for convenience sake / listen to: august - taylor swift

salt air, and the rust on your door i never needed anything more whispers of "are you sure?" "never have i ever before"

it was a windy day, your families had decided to go to the beach. two kids of six years, he was your best friend. isagi yoichi had been with you since diapers. even your baby cribs matched, a result from a sale your parents couldn’t help themselves from.

you shivered as your feet touched the cool sea, your senses reacting to the foreign feeling. the yellow sundress you sported felt like it would blow away from the salt air’s breaths. you were scared inside, it was your first time moving into a water form this large. it seemed like it was gonna eat you whole.

isagi reached out his hand to you as bravely walked towards your fear. you took the hand he gave you, feeling reassured at the contact.

“are you sure? we could always go back!” the boy smiled.

“i’m sure, chi!” you had never done this before, but your knight in swimming trunks made it feel possible. you played together all day, enjoying the special time the universe gifted.

but i can see us lost in the memory august slipped away into a moment in time 'cause it was never mine

twenty years passed since that magical day, two young adults, twenty-six years of age. you worked an office job as a promising young executive, and he was an internationally known football player. you followed the paths you knew you were both destined for, the roads that called you. things were how you’d always imagined them to be,

except that your roads went two completely different directions.

you didn’t accept that until six years ago. the year you turned twenty was when you broke up with isagi.

and i can see us twisted in bedsheets august sipped away like a bottle of wine ‘cause you were never mine

six years ago, you woke up to an empty bed, again. it had been like this every single day for the last year. what started as once in awhile became all the time, and your loneliness had turned into an even bigger feeling of neglect. despite just having woken up, you felt tired once more. a painful silence filled the room you occupied.

he has to go to practice; a sentence that became a default in your mind whenever your tears started to form. you told yourself you’d never make choose between you and his dream. he’d gone on and on about it since he knew how to talk, he really loved football. you distinctly remember him teaching you terms in his room whenever you’d come over, his eyes shined brighter than the stars. you’d be evil to take that away from him.

you just wished he’d be there in the morning. you wish he’d actually read your texts instead of just skimming through them. you wish he’d take you out on a date, just once a month or two. you deemed yourself selfish but... you wish he was more of a boyfriend than just the title.

it was then you thought, you never had isagi in the first place. a tear rolled down your cheek, followed by another, and another- until you sobbed into your twisted bedsheets that you both used to lay in together.

the striker belonged to his dreams, and his dreams belonged to him. where were you supposed to fit? the dam inside you burst. you couldn’t do this anymore. not one bit.

you broke up with him when he arrived back to your apartment later at night. it lead up to fight of “whys” and “hows”, he was so stubborn your blood boiled. you knew him to be calm and rational but, it all went out the window when it came to his career. he couldn’t understand you, therefore you couldn’t him. the air was tense and stuffy, your chest felt incredibly clogged.

isagi’s hand that once held yours into the sea had let go, leaving you to drown with no way to breathe. it ended as you walked away from your shared home.

your back beneath the sun wishin' i could write my name on it will you call when you're back at school? i remember thinkin' i had you

forward again to six years later, you sat in front of your office desk typing a report. suddenly, you recalled that day, twenty years ago. didn’t it happen at around this time?

images started flashing, your mind acting as a projector. it was as if you were having a movie screening, for your eyes and heart only.

you noticed how the sun shined the way it did back then through the glass window panels of the building, exactly like that. it made you smile a bit as a plunge of nostalgia hit you, almost offensively. the memory you spent with a boy you once knew played like an old film.

but i can see us lost in the memory august slipped away into a moment in time 'cause it was never mine

what was he doing now, you pondered. visiting a far away memory, you could remember it all- the little details and the specifics.

you cherish that golden occurrence. it’s enough for this lifetime, that you got the opportunity to love him. the universe was kind enough.

and i can see us twisted in bedsheets august sipped away like a bottle of wine ‘cause you were never mine

twenty years ago, in the month of august, isagi yoichi’s heart belonged to you.

never mine, do you remember?

isagi was yours in that moment. he definitely was.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x y/n #isagi yoichi #yoichi isagi #isagi yoichi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #yoichi isagi x you

99 notes · View notes

aladaylessecondblog · 1 month

Text

Red Mountain Waffle House pt. 3

When Sadara first start working, the walk to work wasn't that bad. Sure, she and Jiub had to keep an eye out, and keep their hands on the company issued swords. Sure, there were cliffracers. Sure, there were corprus monsters, and the occasional skooma-head. Sure, she'd been nicked by one of the crazier ash monsters. Well, bitten, rather, but Jiub had helped her toss the guy out and cleaned up the wound.

It wasn't that bad. They, as Jiub was so fond of saying, had faced a lot worse. Like when they'd lived on the Waterfront in the Imperial City those couple of years. As long as they kept Sadara's ring covered up, and didn't make eye contact with any of the addicts or corprus monsters, and kept a watch around them, it wasn't that dangerous.

And night shift could be fairly pleasant, when there wasn't someone fighting or making a nuisance of themselves. When Nibani was there sometimes she'd even put something on the jukebox while they all did some cleaning up...as they were all doing tonight.

"Did you two clean out the fryer like I told you?"

"Yeah, yeah, Jiub's just, uh...he's washing the baskets out. They were just extra-clogged today."

(What Sadara did NOT say was that the hot water was out in the shithole their landlord called an apartment, and so Jiub was bathing in the enormous backroom sink.)

And then there was a sound she had not yet heard in her time living and working in Red Mountain.

The sound of rain on the roof.

Nibani stirred from the back off, and opened all the window blinds.

"It's nice to see rain," Sadara gave a slight smile, "Isn't it? I hope it'll go on a while, we could use it right now."

"This isn't about liking rain," came the harried reply, "Because it doesn't just up and RAIN here around Red Mountain."

"What's the deal? It's only rain."

"It is NOT only RAIN. Lesson...I'm not even counting anymore. Something you should hold to if you forget everything else I tell you. When it's raining, Dagoth Ur is out and about."

"Dagoth...what, the evil guy in the volcano?"

"Evil guy in the--that demon is no mere mer! You outlanders--you don't understand the danger he presents. The blight winds spread his disease and his dreams. And those who fall under his influence--"

"He's dangerous, I get it. But I was always under the impression that he never left the volcano. At least that's what everyone here has told me."

"Of course the dunmer of the Great Houses would say such things. They don't know. They don't know what it is to--" Nibani was silent for a minute, and walked closer to the window, squinting, and murmuring, "When old Dagoth goes walking, he comes with the rains, the dead follow after, and all hope he drains."

"What's that?"

"An old ashlander song. If he comes in--"

"Be prepared to fight?" Sadara asked, "I'll handle him."

"You will do no such thing!" Nibani burst out, "Do you have a death wish?"

"If I can handle a drunk guy with a broken bottle I can handle this Dagoth guy. And I don't mean fighting. Did you think I was going to go out swinging? I know how to play the game. You want me to be diplomatic, and I will be."

"But not too polite. Or he'll think you're interested in joining his...'family.'"

"I don't think we have to worry about that." Jiub finally emerged from the back room, and went to the grill.

"Where's your shirt?"

"Wet. I fell in the sink."

"The same as with the sleepers and dreamers, then." Sadara looked back to Nibani, took a momentary breath, lit a cigarette, and got a few puffs in before replying again. "It'll be FINE. He's probably out testing the Ghostfence for weaknesses, or...something. Old man hobbies."

From what she had heard of Dagoth Ur so far, that was how she imagined him. Oh sure, the pamphlets talked him up, painted a nice picture of what image they wanted to put forward, but she was pretty sure no man, even a god, would be looking like that. She remembered depictions of the Nine back in Cyrodiil, how a few people had seen them in dreams. Sure they would be pretty, or majestic, but they'd be dressed.

Only an old man had this kind of chutzpah, to go about wearing a loincloth like he was said to do.

(Imagining him like this was better, too, than just being out and out scared like some of the others. Took the edge of it off a little.)

Nibani, however, would not be so easily calmed down about it. She kept a watch out by one of the windows as she worked on the next week's schedules. They had four or five Temple pilgrims come in, too, equally frightened. They ordered to-go boxes and left quickly.

The rain grew heavier, and Nibani stiffened at one point. She leaned up to the window by the plant, and looked carefully out.

"Azura preserve me..."

"What? Big temple group?"

"It's him," she said in a strained voice. "Him!"

"Alright, calm down and we'll handle it," Sadara replied, "I'm sure he can't be up here for very much. He'll come, maybe intimidate us, and leave. What use does he have for waffles?"

"Man's gotta eat," Jiub shrugged. "Hey, when did you get the Ald'ruhn 700s?"

"The other day." Sadara got a few of them out. Not until they sorted this little gift did she finally look up to the window again.

Someone was definitely coming up the path, someone frankly enormous. Tall as hell, wearing very little, and as they passed under the sign, the light it gave glinted off...the mask.

That mask, the one that the temple pilgrims and non-Tribunal faithful alike seemed so fearful of. THAT mask.

She took a deep breath and resolved to be as polite as possible. She talked a big enough game with fighting, but really, there'd be far less injuries with words than with weapons. But, she thought, keeping her hand on the Waffle House branded iron sword, it was good to be ready.

The bell at the door rung, the mer ducked, and entered.

The first time she laid eyes on Dagoth Ur, Sadara could only think that the pamphlets had only been exaggerating a little bit. He was built well, exactly the sort of body made for showing off. It left nearly nothing to the imagination, that loincloth, though. He had to be freezing...or fuck it, she thought, he was a god, did it really matter what he wore if he could control so much else?

"Will you be needing a towel?" she asked, "We've got some dry ones."

There wasn't an immediate answer. The mask turned at the noise, and looked in her direction. Its gaze moved down, looking right at the ring on her finger, before moving back up. He reached up, and twisted at his lengthy dark hair, wringing it out.

"That would be advantageous, yes."

His voice was rather lyrical, in a way. Not quite a baritone. A deep tenor.

She handed over a towel, and went back to cleaning the table in front of her, then once he'd taken a seat she walked back over.

"Coffee, I imagine? After a trip in that weather you must need warming up."

He agreed, and she brought it over. There was a brief moment of skin contact and she mused briefly that he didn't seem cold. He was a dead god, a dead man, they all said, and yet he was warm? Interesting.

"Something on your mind?"

He'd noticed, and trying not to anger him she hurriedly said, "I've been told you're...undead, and yet you're warm. Forgive me for--for musing on that."

He laughed, and despite not seeing his face she could almost see the smile. Certainly she could hear it in that jovial sound.

"I hope in future you won't pay heed to such rumors. I can be as warm as I please."

That was when the mask came down, and the cup of coffee was lifted to his lips.

Sadara had a moment to look. High cheekbones, two red eyes as expected, but on his forehead was opened a third. The two below were focused on the cup, but the third met her own, and she looked quickly away, not eager to be caught staring.

"I've had a few of your...ah...followers here, trying to steal my plant," she finally said, having grasped for a subject to speak on that wasn't his lack of dress or third eye. "They keep saying it belongs to you. I suppose you've come to collect it?"

"No, nothing of the sort. And frankly, I'm of a mind to let you keep it. Has it flourished?"

"Oh, yes, unlike all the other plants I've ever kept," Sadara gave a brief laugh. "I've got a black thumb, if you'd believe it, never grown anything from seed to flower on my own. Normally I'd kill a plant without even meaning to, but this one..."

"This one simply grows for you."

There was a smile then, and she had a sudden strange feeling of déjà vu.

"Yeah..."

He asked about several things while he sat there, drinking the coffee and later eating the waffle covered in several different syrups. And when Nibani left for the back office, he asked another question.

"Have you been injured?" he pointed to the bandage on her arm.

"That? Oh...well, a week ago," Sadara shrugged. "Someone decided it was a fantastic idea to bite me and I've been--I covered it with antiseptics and put a bandage over it even after healing it, just in case."

"And you've been well since then?" Dagoth Ur sounded concerned, and she reminded herself it was an act.

"Well enough. I haven't noticed anything strange like they said it would if it turned out to be..."

"Corprus." His expression shifted into the slightest of smiles. "Let me see it. No one could tell you better if that is indeed what it was."

"It's not necessary, really." But not wanting to be rude she uncovered the spot to show the healing scar. "I'm fairly certain if it was the divine disease...I'd be breaking out in a rash right now."

"Unless, of course..."

One of those long-fingered hands moved over the wound as Dagoth Ur's sentence petered out. After a slight glow--a diagnostic spell, she recognized it--he looked up with something of a smile.

"It is indeed corprus."

"But how--I would've been--"

"There is one circumstance which would explain this," and here his tone brightened even more, "And everything else here, too. The ring, the plant. And that explanation is that you are Nerevar reborn."

"What?"

Nerevar reborn? THAT old story? Everyone here said it was lies, said it wasn't possible. Well not everyone--Nibani seemed to believe it.

He withdrew his hand, paid, and left. With him went the rain, which over the next hour slowed and then stopped.

But his departure had kicked off a whole other storm in her head.

#sad wet cat voryn is coming later lol #right now hes dressing to impress #turning on the old charm #dagoth ur #morrowind #fanfiction #nerevarine #tes #tesblr #elder scrolls

11 notes · View notes

brrrkdslek · 10 months

Text

QUADRILATERAL LOVE!

✦ 029 — NEVER BEATING THE ZAZA ALLEGATIONS😫

you woke up to an empty bed as boomi quickly ran inside the room with a strawberry and banana milk in each hand with a large grin spread on his face. you smile at that, "did you sleep well hun?"

he passed you the strawberry milk as he took a quick sip on his, "yeah! i slept soooo well―" he places the carton on the bedside before throwing himself onto you,

"―cause you were here last night!" he started cuddling you as you both laughed in unison. you always loves it, when it was just the two of you, together.

he made you feel strong and secure, happy. you brush his hair as he sips his banana milk while talking about his day.

"boomi," "yes, noona?" "i went to see mom yesterday-" he jumped from his spot on your lap and turns to face you with a huge smile on his face, breaking your heart.

"is she okay! how is she? does she miss us?" your smile slowly fades as you held onto his shoulders. "she- um, how do i say this..." he looks up at you with confused eyes.

"noona? what's going on?" tears prickle at the corner of your eyes as you pulled him into your chest, "mom- she, um... the nurse told me so has one to two months left, to live." you hug him tightly when it became silent.

sniff. sniff. and another one before the child started bawling his eyes out. he mumbled 'why's and 'no's as he sobbed loudly, it broke your heart. he's such a sweetheart, a literal angel.

it almost made you mad that he cried over the woman who almost killed him. nevertheless, you held him in your arms and rocked him back and forth.

you never wanted to tell him. he didn't deserve to hear that. you always felt the need to protect him, from your mother, your family, everything. you never wanted him to experience the things you did. all the trauma, all the horrors you've seen.

eventually, he passed out since he cried so much. you sat at his side and wiped away his wet cheeks, resting on your chin as you watched him peacefully.

suddenly, hongjoong slammed the door open and ran inside. you looked up at him with tired eyes as he panted before speaking on the phone. "no- it's, it's all good. i found her."

he ended the call and shoved his phone in his back pocket before leaning against the wall, catching his breath. after a few minutes you spoke, "what are you doing here?" you stroke boomi's bangs out of his face.

"no, what are you doing here?" he spoke quietly despite his anger which you could feel, "i was visiting... duh." "y/n. you know you're not supposed to go out without telling anyone first! you were gone the entire day and no one could reach you!"

"oh, right." you pulled out your phone and turned it back on, showing him the screen. "whatever, he's asleep isn't he? let's go back now." you cooperated with the male and you two left to the parking lot.

as hongjoong drove on the almost empty highway, you contemplate whether you should tell him or not. you fiddled with your fingers, trying to find the right moment to bring it up, spoiler alert you didn't.

honjoong glanced at you while he drove silently. "what's going on?" he asked. you wanted to tell him so bad, but for some reasons the words clogged in your throat. what should you do about this?

it was silent. comfortably silent. that's how things between you two always were; silent. if something needed to be said it would be said, if something was bothering one of you, the other would know immediately.

you knew he wouldn't push you to speak up, but you felt that you should, no, you had to. you would feel like you lied to him, like you weren't being truthful. why was it so hard to just speak up?

you stared tearing up as you stared ahead. your train of thought were cut off when hongjoong placed him hand on yours. you blink a few times before sniffling, looking out the window of the passenger seat.

he sighed, "listen, i don't know what's going on. but you need to get yourself together, if you need help, just say so. you can't act like this, neither can i. it's risky for you to act out of line all the time, especially with how 'popular' you are now." he sounded like a parent lecturing their child. that's what a normal person would think, but you didn't.

you knew the underlying meaning behind his harsh words. you've known the man for years so obviously you would understand, his hand squeezed yours, as if offering his encouragement. you took a deep breath.

"i- my mom, she's dying." hongjoong's hand on yours tighten slightly. "how... how long does she have left?" "around one to two months." his fingers caress the back of your hand as you look out the window.

hongjoong knew saying sorry and all that shit would make you cry immediately, to be honest he didn't know what he should've done from then on.

"what do i do now, joong?" he breathed in heavily, contemplating what he should say, what he should do, how he should comfort you. "uh, i- i think you should tell manager park first. he may know what to do," you looked out the window and nodded.

<PREV𖤐NEXT>

#ateez smau #hongjoong x reader #jongho x reader #mingi x reader #san x reader #seonghwa x reader #wooyoung x reader #yeosang x reader #yunho x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez

38 notes · View notes

ofstoriesandstardust · 3 months

Text

that's the thing about illicit affairs

a/n: i am once again posting for a series that no one but @cottagecori and i care about

summary: The conversation.

the waiting room series

warnings: swearing, complicated familial relationships, mentions of cancer

word count: 1.7k

“and you wanna scream, don’t call me kid”

You try to take a deep breath, trying to identify each feeling that swirls blindly inside of you as you wait for someone to answer the door.

fear, anger, hurt

The silence feels never-ending, reaching into the cracks of your soul, your only companion the crickets and the starry night.

You aren’t even sure if anyone is home or will answer the door. You have half a mind to go back to your car and drive off and never come back to this town.

This town, that held all of your pasts and your ghosts, the town that had forever haunted you-

“Kid?”

You blink, realizing Tom has opened the door.

“What are you doing out here? It’s pouring-”

Was it? You’d hardly even noticed it had started to rain on the way over from Natasha’s.

“Is it true?” You hear yourself say as Tom pulls you inside.

“Pete, can you grab a towel?” He shouts over his shoulder, guiding you to the living room. “Is what true?”

Stand By Me is paused on the screen, the living room bathed in a warm glow from the tableside lamp.

Pete appears alongside his husband, a bit breathless as his eyes go wide at the sight of you.

“Kid?”

“Don’t call me that.” You snap, eyes narrowing. “Is it true?”

“Is what true?” Pete says, warily taking a step forward towards you.

“Is it true, that Tom said he’d divorce you if you had a relationship with me? Is it true?” Pete can only sigh as he stops trying to creep towards you. The movement makes your heart sink, tears suddenly clogging your throat. “Because I won’t- I won’t be responsible for breaking up a second marriage, especially not when one of you is dying from cancer.”

Pete sighs again as Tom’s eyes widen slightly. “Let’s sit down on the couch.” His voice is softer now and he takes another step towards you, wrapping the towel around your shoulders. It’s soft, fluffy, the good kind of fabric. Certainly nothing like what you had growing up that was threadbare, mutli-colored from years of use, and covered in questionable stains.

“I want an explanation.” You say firmly, but you sit down next to him on the couch all the same.

He nods. “And I’ll give you one. Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you. I owe you that.”

“So? Is it true that you’re going to get divorced now that I’m in the picture?”

Pete shakes his head. “No-”

“But at one point, you would’ve.”

The words aren't really a question but Pete hangs his head all the same.

“When Pete first found you, in 2017-”

“Wha- in 2017? I was in high school then- you mean to tell me-” Your head is swimming with information and you don’t even realize you’ve rocketed up off the couch until Pete is gently guiding you to sit back down.

“Let me start from the beginning. I did not cheat on Tom, he and I have both agreed to that. We had a fight and at the time, we both believed we were broken up. Your Mom was the only person I slept with during that time, I just needed to blow off some steam.”

“Then why- why threaten a divorce if I’m in the picture, I don’t understand-”

“Because I wasn’t ready to hear it.” Tom admits softly and Pete gives his husband a glance.

“We’ll get to that.” Pete squeezes your shoulder. “In 2017, Carole was at a house-warming party. Your Mom was there, friend of a friend of a friend, and she was very drunk. My name and the words affair and daughter were dropped more than once. And Carole- she knew. She has always known. And so she came to me, confronted me, asked me if it could be true. And I told her yes. She asked if I’d want to know you and I said yes. So, behind Tom’s back, I hired a private investigator.”

“Why wait so many years? You left me in a house with no love-”

“I know, I know. But, at the time, Tom was battling cancer. We weren’t sure if he would live to see the end of the year. And I knew- I knew that if I came forward with it, it would break our marriage.”

“But now it won’t?”

“I’ve changed my mind.” Tom says, clearing his throat.

“Why?”

“Back then, I was just barely in remission. I was still so scared and the thought that all this had happened without my knowledge hurt me. But, we’ve been through a lot, Pete and I, over the last year. I’ve realized throughout it, that I didn’t want my husband to die and die resenting me for not knowing you. And as Pete started to reveal more to me what the PI had found out about your family, I knew that there had to be something more to offer you.”

“We had just found you again, not too long before you showed up at the Hard Deck with Natasha.”

“You knew.” You say, letting out a breath.

Pete lets out a laugh, but there is no humor behind it. “Yeah, I knew. I’d just spent all that time trying to find you and there you were, cozied up on the arm with one of my pilots. It just made everything so-”

“Complicated.” You finish for him, remembering Natasha’s words from a few weeks ago.

He nods. “Yeah. The last thing I wanted to do was get in the way of you and Natasha being together if you decided you didn’t want a relationship with me. So, I decided to step back. I may not be able to have you in my life as my daughter but you were still in my life.”

“And that was enough for you?”

“It was never going to be enough. Being able to build a relationship with you is all I have wanted.”

You swallow at the earnest honesty in Pete’s eyes.

“Wait, so- what about the cancer? Bradley told me- He made it seem like-”

“I’ve been in remission for over five years now. There’s always a chance it could come back but-” Tom finishes, shrugging his shoulders.

The silence that follows is deafening. Pete waits patiently for you to speak next.

He’s had years to process knowledge you’d only had days to wrap your brain around.

“I don’t- I don’t understand why Bradley’s so angry with me.” You finally land on, shaking your head. “What did I do to him?”

“I think,” Tom says softly, “in Brad’s head- you’re stepping on a family he just got back.”

“That’s stupid.” You say bluntly. “I didn’t ask for this; I didn’t want this.”

You’re standing again and Pete is quick to match you, rising as you do.

“Kid-”

“Stop calling me that!” You nearly shout, stepping back from him. “I am not a kid! I am not your kid!”

Pete flinches at your words but you don’t acknowledge it.

“I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for you. I didn't ask to be born from an affair or- or for any of this! I don’t want this! I don’t-”

You’re heaving, struggling to get in a breath as your eyes fly wildly throughout the living room.

“You don’t get it, do you? I spent my whole life in a loveless home, growing up with parents who hated me for who I was and what I represented. I dug myself out of there, I created my future. No one else helped me do it, I did it. And now what, now that I’m someone successful, now that I’m easier to love, you want in?”

Pete shakes his head. “No, no, it was never because I didn’t love you or didn’t think that I could. It’s just-”

“It’s just better for you now? More convenient? Easier? Because look, I’m really sorry my existence, an existence you caused, was such an inconvenience to you.”

“Stop.” Tom says firmly, finally standing. “Stop blaming Pete. If you’re going to yell at anyone, yell at me.”

“Tom-”

Tom puts a hand out, cutting off his husband.

“I was the one who kept Pete out of your life for years. It was my decision and my choice. Trust me, Pete wanted to know you so badly. He would have done anything, paid any lawyer and fought any court battle he would’ve had to to get you out of your home when he found you in 2017. I was the one who stopped him then, who stopped him all these years. You have every right to be angry but be angry with me. Pete doesn’t deserve your anger.”

You swallow, watching Tom as he talks. For a man as old as he is, his age doesn’t show in that moment. A fire lines his face, his shoulders pulled back tight. You imagine this is the strength that had earned him the title of Commander of the Pacific Fleet, that had allowed him to climb those ranks.

And then, to your horror, the tears start.

It all feels too overwhelming, like you’ll never get past this moment right here. Like you’ll be crushed by the heavy weight of it all, right here in these two men’s living room.

A shiver racks your body as you finally feel the chill of your rain-soaked shirt. Your lip wobbles as warm tears begin to track down your face.

And yet all you can see is the moment Pete’s face falls.

“Come here.” He says softly, beckoning you to him. You take a hesitant step towards him but he meets you in the middle, wrapping his arms around you. He tucks his head on top of yours as you become breathless with tears. “I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m so sorry this has all come out in the worst way possible. I am so, so sorry.”

Your fingers find purchase in his cotton shirt, shoulders trembling. “Tell me what I’m supposed to do now.”

He lets out a long breath. “You can do anything you want to.”

You hiccup. “I want to-”

What did you even want?

To go home.

But what was even home for you anymore?

#the waiting room series #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #natasha phoenix trace

13 notes · View notes