#which has always been a worry but its been worse lately??

[suckishima]

why dont you go rewatch haikyuu season 2 and calm down a little

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

From the request HERE

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: You two can't keep your hands off one another as you come home one night, but a slight problem has you in a pickle: your birth control has just run out and you are all out of condoms. Not to worry, Simon assures you that he will pull out. But as you ride him you begin to question if you really want him to. Will he stick to his promise or will he give in to your need?

Word Count: 4.9 k

Warnings:

Your back bounces into the front door as Simon pins you against it as he is physically unable to wait to get inside before he is on you. The walk from the car to the apartment has already been long enough, you can’t expect him to stay away any longer, especially not after the needy way his hands were on you just moments before. He almost made it till you just had to go and pull him into you by tugging on his belt loops; you should have known that’s all it takes to make his resolve break so that he is unable to hold back his need to devour every inch of you.

It had all started on your way home as it always does when he is out with you and an urge hits that he can’t indulge yet: his hand that was gripped tightly around the top of your inner thigh as he drove began moving up slowly until it reached the inseam of your jeans where he pressed up against it as if he was trying to get a feel of your warmth through the thick fabric. The longer his hand massaged you through your clothes, the worse the ache got and the more he had trouble keeping his gaze from trailing back onto you at every chance until he had to force himself to look back at the road, biting his lower lip to focus on something other than his need to put his mouth on any part of you he could get.  

He did try his hardest to get you both inside before his composure broke, but even as the car came to a stop he knew it was too late. There is only so much he can control, he is a trained professional after all, but this isn’t military business; when it comes to those moments when his desire for you has reached its peak, there is no holding back. 

You are the perfect kind of intoxication and once he has you in his veins there is nothing left but to indulge until he is satisfied.

His mouth dominates your own as his hands cling around your cheeks to keep you completely at his mercy so that he can take you as he likes. It’s not even been five minutes, but he is already panting heavily from the ferocity in the desperate and insatiable way he captures your lips in open-mouthed kisses and the sound of his yearning makes your heart skip. 

“Si,” you moan the shortened version of his name against his lips in between gasped breaths.  

Christ, the way it rolls off your tongue is an aphrodisiac to him and before he can think he is already rock hard and throbbing against your hip. You would think he hadn’t had you in months with the urgency in which he claims your mouth with his until your skin burns from the aggression; the immense intensity in that moment has your knees buckling.   

Your head is spinning with each passing minute as he grunts into your mouth, the feeling of your kiss too good to keep quiet about…but he needs more. Suddenly, his tender lips leave yours stinging as Simon nuzzles across your cheek, eyes closed and moving off of feel alone, and soon his hot breath is at the side of your head as his lips ghost near your jaw before they land. They leave burning kisses in their wake while they travel down towards your neck. 

“Fuck,” he exclaims with that husky tone into your skin, “I need ta feel ya, baby.”

Moving between the contours of your fused bodies his desperate hands locate the button on your jeans and with a bit of struggle, he undoes them. Both of those meaty paws are shoved inside the front before he even gets the zipper down. There’s a hiss on his tongue as his hands fill with all your soft, warm skin just inside your clothes. 

“Gotta get ya inside ‘fore I fuck ya right here ‘gainst the door,” he says in a deep, breathy whisper. 

The ache in his voice makes your skin prickle with anticipation of what’s to come as the vibration from his deep register makes your clit throb. His neediness is overwhelming, worming its way inside your head until you can’t think of anything else outside of the sensation of his touch along your curves, the yearning in his depraved kisses, and the way his words set your soul on fire with passion.   

“I’m sure the neighbors would love that,” you say, quickly followed by a high-pitched moan as he drags the sharp edge of his teeth over that rapidly pounding vein at the side of your neck.

You hold his face tighter against you, forcing him to suck at the spot, his heated, sticky breath moistening your skin as the pressure from his lips leave you in a daze. His calloused hands continue harshly pawing at your body as he situates his knee between your legs up against the door to steady himself and without thinking you take that as an invitation to grind against his thigh to relieve some of the ache that is making you lose your mind.

He can’t stop himself from following your lead and soon you are both greedily humping each other, desperately trying to get as much friction going as possible, not actually caring if anyone catches you two going at it. You can feel his mouth upturn into a smile against your neck. “They’d be so lucky to see me fuck a gorgeous thing like ya, sweetheart,” he growls into the skin.

What’s breathing again? You’ve lost the ability completely after that line. 

Fuck, Simon doesn’t want to take his hands off you, but you have got to get inside and quick or else his little joke might become a reality with the way you two keep grinding on one another. But if he wants to get these clothes off you, and fucking hell does he want to, he’s going to have to open the door.

Under duress, he removes one of his hands from within your pants and searches his pockets for his keys. The jingle of metal clinking together is heard as he pulls them out and flips through the set until his fingers find the one he needs. It takes him several tries to stab the key into the lock, relying strictly on sound and feeling alone to be sure he has it and finally that familiar click hits his ears over the sound of your combined heavy breathing. 

The front door ricochets off the wall behind it as Simon flings it open with a bit too much force before he staggers his way inside with you plastered to his body, his lips feverishly back to capturing yours in their embrace as you enter. He can't get in fast enough; he desperately needs to get you fucking naked and now. 

Grabbing the door with his hand, he slams it closed before making you both tumble to the floor and pinning your body between him and the living room carpet. “Can’t make it,” he groans in agony as if the bedroom is miles away. 

It’s not like your naked body hasn’t felt the fibers of the carpet dig into it before. 

Now that you are safely inside, his lust is unable to be controlled. Just the feeling of you under him has him panting into your open mouth like an animal in heat, barely able to kiss you as it feels so fucking good. He runs those coarse hands over your delicate curves through the opening he’s created in your pants and up under the bottom hem of your shirt over your stomach. 

His groans turn into a bassy whimper as you begin to explore his body as well, fingers running up under his shirt to caress the muscles along his torso up towards his chest, your arms taking his t-shirt with you as you go until it reaches his neck and he lets you pull it off over his head. The skin is pink with the heat from his arousal making his blood run hot like fire through his limbs. Moving up onto his knees he leans on his calves, his head falling back in ecstasy as you glide your touch through the hair that covers his chest and abdomen; just your touch is stimulating enough to have him ready to burst. 

He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes as your hand slips lower over those bulging muscles as they ripple, the bliss from your silky touch almost too much to handle. You catch his stare and lock it in your pining gaze as the tips of your fingers slip over his naval and down onto the clasp of his pants and a deep, guttural moan is dragged out of his throat as you skillfully undo it and shove your way inside.   

Your hand brushes against the bulbous tip of his cock and his whole body shudders. “F-fuck,” he gasps under his breath, his eyes fluttering shut and mouth hanging open as your hand wraps around it and begins to stroke up and down within the confines of his pants. It doesn’t take long and he is bucking, rolling his hips to fuck your hand as your fist tightens more around him. The constriction only makes the movement of his hips more feverish as he succumbs to the feeling of the friction. 

He lets you go on until he can feel the first twinges of pressure building inside and that’s when he knows he’s had enough; there is so much more he wants to do to you and if he comes now it’ll all be over too soon. Opening those brown eyes, now with their blown out pupils, he runs his tongue over his dry lips and looks down at you as he removes your hand from around his cock and tugs it out of his pants.

“Come ‘ere to me, pretty girl,” he groans as he drags your hips forward onto his knees so you have to wrap your legs on either side of his wide, bulky torso. “Need these fuckers off.” 

Those girthy fingers hook themselves into the waistband of your jeans, making sure to latch into the top of your panties as well, and with a hard tug he is wrenching them both down off your hips, continuing down the line of your legs. Your body is aching so bad for his touch that everywhere he makes contact against you feels like ecstasy and all you want is more. You pull your legs back to tuck them against your chest so he can rip your pants all the way off and toss them away. 

Your ears pick up the sound of Simon’s sharp inhale as he gets sight of that sweet thing between your thighs. One look is all it takes and the inside of his mouth begins to salivate as he leans over your body to place his raw lips to your abdomen just below your naval as your body squirms under his touch from each warm caress of his mouth. The short, bristly hair that covers his jaw pricks against that overly sensitive skin until your back arches off the ground and you start to whine as it is almost too much for you to take.

“Need ta make ya come,” Simon whispers his feral plea into your stomach. “Need ta hear it, need ta feel it…”

His thought trails off as his lips wander down lower to stop at the sparse hair covering the top of your nude pussy. He pauses for only a few seconds to take it all in; God, he would never get tired of seeing it. But as much as he admires the look of it, there is something he needs even more and he can feel his taste buds tingling across his tongue to get at it.

“Need ta taste it…” he says, frantic and desperate. 

Your brain is so strung out that you haven’t fully comprehended his words as you open your eyes and see Simon repositioning himself, sliding out from under you and moving onto his stomach in between the divide in your legs. With his fingertips gripping into each of your thighs, he pushes them apart and keeps them spread as he immediately dives face first into the gap he has made with a hunger that makes him wildly delirious. 

There’s something you need to remember to tell him, something important pertaining to this exact situation, but the minute his mouth is on those tender lower lips your ability to think is gone. His mouth pin heavy kisses to your petals before his wide tongue flattens against the curve of your pussy and pushes up tight until the pressure causes you to fidgeting your hips against his face. 

Back and forth Simon slips his tongue over you until he pushes through the threshold of your sex and drags it up the length, coming to rest up against that bundle of nerves towards the top. He can feel your heartbeat through the throbbing in your clit and his eyes roll back in his head as he loses himself inside the haze of his passion; if he could live between your legs, he would definitely call it home. 

You are already a little wet and he can taste your arousal in his mouth as he takes the tip of his tongue to roll it delicately over your clit and you squeeze your thighs together around his ears in response to the intense pleasure that one simple movement produces. Keep doing shit like that and he isn’t going to be able to contain himself. 

Simon tries to keep his tongue steady and slow, but the longer he stays buried in your pussy, lapping at you like he’s been starved of it, the harder it is to contain himself. He’s obsessed. Every desperate sound you make, every writhe of your body, makes him greedy for more; he is eager to do whatever it takes to turn you into a complete mess and that means only one thing- overstimulation.

Releasing one of your thighs, he moves his palm to rest under his chin and brings two of his bulky fingers to align them with your entrance. He keeps his tongue on your clit and thrusts the pad against it as he sinks his middle fingers up into you. Those dark eyes dart up over the line of your body to watch your back arch up high off the floor while you cry out in incoherent moans as you are suddenly stretched out from the size of his digits.  

His fingers fill up your pussy as deep, come hither strokes work on your G spot over and over in rhythm until he has your body dripping. The mixture of your juices and his spit from your clit dribbles down into his hand and collects around his chin. This is exactly what he is looking for: the more your wetness gathers on his face, the more feral he becomes until his sanity is gone and only a mindless creature hell bent on ruining you remains. 

No more calm caresses now; he needs this raw and dirty. He wants his face to be slathered in your cum.

Tilting his head to the side, he takes a deep breath. “Rock your hips inta me,” he grunts his hasty demand with his mouth still against you before plunging back in.

Planting your feet firmly onto the floor, you pick up your hips slightly and slowly begin to rut against his face as his fingers curl up inside of you and his tongue continues to tease your clit. The sensation is unlike anything else, riding his face and fingers at the same time. How is this man a master at using every single part of his body? 

Simon hums his praises into you for how good you are at following orders and you can feel the vibration from his lips; that adds something even more magnificent to the equation and soon there is a warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach that you recognize- you are close. 

Your core is clenching around his fingers something fierce, your swollen walls bearing down on him with each thrust of your hips as he laps up the mess you are making to keep it from being wasted on the carpet. As your leg muscles begin to shake near his ears, he knows that you are about to come and his already depleted breathing hitches as he waits to feel it.

“Sh-shit,” you whimper as your nails dig into the carpet. “Gonna come, Si.”

A few more moans and then you fall silent as all that pressure is right at the peak, so close you can almost taste it, and with a few more thrusts of his tongue and buck of your hips and your body contracts as your orgasm tears through you. 

Simon sneaks one gasping breath just as your thighs clamp down rigidly around his ears, blocking him in against you so that he can’t get free until you are finished. The entirety of your high you ride out with him licking, sucking, and fingering until you sink into the floor, breathing through the pleasure.

“That’s my girl,” he growls, breathing hard as his face emerges from you with a contented smile on his glistening lips. 

Pushing himself up, he moves back onto his knees in front of you before taking the back of his hand and wiping it across his lips to remove the coating leaking down his chin. “Ready for more?” he smiles.

All at once the thought comes flooding back into your mind through the clarity that getting off has given you, that thing you are supposed to tell him, as he slides the waistband of his jeans down over the curve of his ass and pulls his cock out. Goddamn he is hard, the tip swollen and throbbing with the beat of his heart as he moves in.

Quickly, you stagger up onto your elbows to look at him. “Wait,” you choke out as he slides back up close against you.

“Need a break?” he asks, slightly out of breath still.

You don’t want to stop, God, you want him in you so bad it hurts, but there’s a problem. “Ran outta birth control,” you stammer out. “Do we have any condoms?”

Even in your delirious state you already know the answer; you haven’t bought anything for a while as you had never had any trouble with your pills until now. Simon looks back at you and shakes his head, confirming your suspicions and you fall back down onto your back defeated.

“Don’t wanna stop,” you whine pathetically as you feel him move, thinking that you’ll have to stop, but Simon is quick to crush your fears.

"Listen,” he says as he leans over top of you, cupping your cheek to pull you into a quick kiss as he holds himself up with the other, “I'll be careful. Swear I'll fuckin' pull out."

His cock presses against you as it hangs freely out of his pants. Without thinking he slowly grinds the veiny shaft up against your pussy, his hardness stroking over your clit until your juices are dripping all over it. All that slick, all that warmth, and Simon is losing his goddamn mind, but he won’t put it in, not until you say.

You are already so drunk off the euphoria of your orgasm that there is no way you’re gonna say no to that, not when the need to keep this going for as long as possible is all you want. The more his cock slips between your petals the more you agree with his idea until the only thing left in your hazy mind is the need for him to be inside you- now. 

“Promise?” you ask.

“I swear,” he reassures. “Don’t wanna stop either. Wanna be inside ya too.”

“Okay,” you agree enthusiastically and he gives you one more heated kiss in confirmation. 

Slipping through you a few more times just to be sure he is good and coated, he pulls back and sets the tip right at your opening. “Jus’ breathe,” he groans, digging his fingers into your hips as he sinks the tip of his cock inside and with one fluid thrust he plunges in fully until his cock completely disappears inside.

The fucking stretch of him is sublime, the usual slight discomfort from it near nonexistent as your body is more than ready to take him in. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out as your mind is consumed with the feeling. 

There is no restraint left in Simon to keep him in check; the high he feels from being inside you is too much and he wastes no time in setting a punishing pace. Bulky arms move underneath you to tilt your hips upwards as his hips snap into you with ruthless force until he’s pounding into you so deep his vision blurs and he must resort to sounds to convey his thoughts. 

Each thrust is emphasized with a primal groan from him as both your bodies start to glisten with perspiration from the exertion of the brunt of his desire for you that makes him pound into your dripping hole with fervor. Minutes pass in this hazy ecstasy until he decides that he needs a change of position. As good as you look beneath him, you are a true fantasy when you are on top and he craves that right now. 

“Need ya ta ride me, baby,” he murmurs. “Can ya do that?” 

You nod quickly; as long as he keeps making your body feel this way, you’ll do whatever he wants.

Making sure you are secure in his arms, he pulls out of you only long enough so that he can roll you both over until you are now the one on top. Getting you situated he immediately thrusts back inside and you instantly plant your hands firmly onto his chest, using it as leverage. Pushing down against his chest you begin to bob up and down on your knees as best as you can over the bulk of his body to stick to the relentless pace that he had already set. 

Simon runs his hands up and down your bare thighs as he takes in the view of you perched on top of him: your pretty eyes glazed over, your hair a beautifully disheveled mess hanging down around your face, your tits bouncing in tandem with you beneath your shirt. You are utter perfection as you ride. Those needy hands begin to roam up higher and higher over your stomach, pushing your shirt up as he goes until he can reach your breasts so that he can get at them to play with the nipples to make you whine.

Fucking hell, every inch of you is like a dream. And it’s all his.

It isn’t long before your movements start to get sloppy as the euphoria of it all draws you closer to your second release. This is too much for anyone to handle: you being entirely ravaged by him until you are so desperately lost in the pleasure of it all that you are in a complete state of full body bliss. That familiar pressure at the base of your spine is already building again and as long as you keep this rhythm you will be coming in no time. 

Even as you are lost in it all, ready to finish again, an irrational need creeps into your mind that you have never had before. The thrill of the risk is mind-numbly good, but this new though amplifies all that by ten. What if he didn’t pull out?  

It’s crazy, you know, but something about it just sounds so right. The delicious thought consumes your mind, making your limbs tingle with excitement. Screw the consequences, you can figure it all out later. Why the idea popped in your head in the first place, you don’t know, but now that it is here, you can’t get rid of it. You need Simon to come in you.  

“Don’t… pull…out,” you stammer out shakily. 

Simon’s head pops up. Did he hear that right? No, he must be so far out of his mind that he is not able to comprehend your words right now. “What?” he asks.

Your legs lock around his sides as you continue to bounce in that steady rhythm with no sign of stopping. “Want you…to come… inside me. Please, Si. Need it.”

Oh, God. It’s like a switch that gets flicked on in his brain as you plead with him to fill you up and all at once that absolutely feral part of his brain that has been kept dormant all this time is awakened with a fury.

Fuck, it's all over now. 

There is no possible chance in hell that he isn’t going to give in to that. He's so high off the feeling of you riding him into oblivion that any consequences that may come do not even register. So what if you have an accident? He’s confident that he’d be just fine with that. Shit, he loves you to the moon and back, so it’s not much of a risk in the end if a product of your love just happens to come from this. Right now the risk is worth the reward.

“Fill… me up,” you continue to beg. “Please…almost there.”

His mind is already made up. "Christ,” he groans desperately, “can't say no to that, pretty girl. Want me ta fill ya, that's what your gonna fuckin' get."

His large hands lock tight around your hips to hold them down as he strikes his hips up into your pussy, taking control to slam up into you from below harder and harder. The clenching of his abdominal muscles from each thrust has the sweat dripping over the contours of his chest. You take every last delectable inch he gives you as the room fills with the wet sounds of your bodies slapping against each other. Your mind is all static now, so lost within the bliss of your union that you can’t stand it and he isn’t far behind.

“Don’t stop…Dont’ stop,” you whine, your body shaking as he slams into you over and over again. 

“Never,” he grunts, trying to keep together through the overwhelming pressure gathering deep within him that threatens to throw him over the edge at any moment; you have to come first, that’s his rule. 

That warmth is almost at its peak again, the pressure rising harshly at the base of your spine; just a little more and you’ll be there. You’re barely hanging on by a thread, excited to experience being stuffed full by the only man you ever want to claim you. Fuck, you want him to claim you so bad it hurts.

A few more seconds of his roughness as you are jostled atop him and that is it, like a hot flash of white light you squeal out in unsteady whimpers as your second orgasm tears straight through you with such force you nearly fall off him, but Simon keep you upright. 

Finally he can let himself go. He’s nearly there, just a bit more and he is going to fill you full. A few more ragged, desperate thrust and he is spilling inside of you. A loud groan rips through his chest as he releases all that warm liquid up into you, milking his cock until he has nothing more left as he keeps your hips pinned to his; you had wanted this and he is going to be sure you get everything you want. His hips continue slowly moving against yours as he works you both through your highs for the next couple of minutes until it subsides and he comes to a stop, completely spent. 

“I’ve got ya, I’ve got ya,” he murmurs softly as you fall forward onto him and he cradles you against his burning chest while you continue to whimper faintly as your body shakes with the force of your lingering orgasm. 

Never have you come so hard before and fuck, neither has he.

Simon clings to you, gently rubbing down your back until your breathing calms and your heart stops thudding so violently; only then does he carefully pull out of you and help you move to his side. With nothing to plug you up, you can feel a warm gush that runs down to your thigh, a sticky reminder of what just happened. Simon catches a glimpse of it and it makes his heart thud to see all his milky white cum dripping out of you; the ultimate claim to what is his.

Propping himself up onto his elbow, he lays a heavy arm over top of you and wraps it around your back to pull you tighter into him. “We might ‘ave a problem,” he chuckles as he kisses your heated cheek. 

“What’s that?” you ask exhaustedly.

“Think I just found my favorite thing to do with ya,” he whispers. “And from the way ya just came, I might have ta do it again.”

[daisy-milk]

Non Dimenticar

three times in which you needed minho, though it wasn't in you to ask

➠ lee minho x reader

➠ wc: 1.7k

➠ summary: both you and minho are independent induviduals, and that aspect thrives in your relationship. though it makes it hard for you to reach out to him when you need it. you and him learn that sooner or later you both will have to learn how to ask for help.

➠ warnings: slight angst (maybe its normal level angst idk its pretty sad), mentions of passing out, mentions of injury, mentions of hosptial/emergency room, overworked reader

➠ masterlist

➠ a/n: i am currently a little tipsy and therefore this is not proofread

he gets it. he really does. he understands because he is the same way. all his life, he has had the same mentality, but now that he’s met you, he has learned; and perhaps it was because you were so similar in that sense that he learned what it looked like from an outside perspective. 

it was your inability to ask for help and openness to receiving it. 

minho, as well, struggled with this. throughout his life he had that mindset. one of, ‘whatever is happening will pass. you must power through. don’t drag others down with you,’ and he knew what it felt like from a personal level. pretty much, you both lived a very much ‘just thug it out’ lifestyle. minho never saw it as too much of a problem though. it didn’t seem to hurt others, in his eyes it kept them safe even, ignorance is bliss, no? but that was until he met you. 

minho saw in you, the struggle that was deep within him. the one many urged him to overcome, because he never would see any issue in it.

the first time he began to become aware was when the two of you were working out. you were both doing bicep curls, your attention on the mirror in front of you as you counted your sets. minho and you took turns and he was using a heavier weight than you, so naturally you dropped yours in favor of letting him switch the plates. you must have been distracted however, and in switching, you accidentally dropped the heavy plate onto your big toe. minho wouldn’t have even noticed if his eyes weren’t trained on you at all times. you didn’t even make a sound when it dropped on you, just an airy hiss, and through your reflection in the mirror you tried your best to play it off. the weight was heavy enough to raise concern, there was no way that didn’t affect you. therefore, minho spoke up,

“hey, you good? that looked painful” he grabbed your arm as you stepped away. 

you shook your head, “nah. i’m fine. i’ve had worse,” a chuckle leaves your lips in an attempt to put your boyfriend at ease.

minho gave you a look. one of uncertainty. though he didn’t want to pry. he knows that even if it was hurting there is a reason you aren’t asking him for help. 

perhaps he should have asked though. you didn’t say anything further but he couldn’t help but notice the quite obvious limp you wore as you walked out of the gym. he noticed, as he peeked at your uncovered foot when you got into bed with him that your toe began to swell and bruise a nasty shade of purple. he noticed the way, even after days, you struggle to put your full weight onto your foot. he urged you to see a doctor, but you brushed it off, saying that it’ll heal on its own, you’ve had worse. 

again, he didn’t pry and you never brought it up. though he knows now to keep a close eye on you at the gym. 

the second time was probably the most brutal. what started as a simple stomach ache soon became an even worse pain that had you doubling over in pain. be it cramps, your pesky lactose intolerance, or food poisoning, you always had an excuse for when minho began to worry. because naturally he would become worried at the sight of you rendering unmovable due to the pain. though no matter what, each time you would ease his mind with a new excuse and a wave of your hand. the excuses lasted a while. though it was only a matter of time until something worse happened. he had gotten a call from you late into the evening, “hey…” your voice was low, it sounded as if you were far from the mic, “can you… can you uh pick me up. i’m at that pho spot near your place. i’m- i… uh don’t think i can drive home.”

“did you drink?” he had asked. you had told him no, but offered no further explanation. he could tell there was something you didn’t want to tell him; he knew there was a reason you sounded hesitant to ask for his help. 

minho had been right because upon arrival he was met with your nearly passed out form, drooping from the driver’s seat of your car. he rushed to you, and you were conscious, luckily. though you did let out a loud groan in pain, your hand clutching your abdomen tightly. without another thought, he rushed you to the emergency room. 

fate was on your side that night. appendicitis. the doctors had told you that you were lucky that you hadn’t waited. if it were perhaps a day later, your appendix may have ruptured. the two of you shared a brief look as the doctor debriefed you. it was a knowing look. 

during your surgery minho thanked every star in the sky that night. he also made sure to schedule himself a check-up with his physician as well. he had to take care of himself to take care of you, is what he told himself.

the third time wasn’t a physical injury per say. minho caught you in your room. using the spare keys you gave him, he welcomed himself into your apartment as he normally did, though you weren’t expecting him this time. he wanted it to be a surprise. he knew you were studying hard and came in to surprise you with your usual coffee order and some homemade pastries felix made. 

instead he found you at your desk, uncomfortably splayed out before your computer. surrounding you were litters of paper and textbooks, most with notes and formulas, but as he looked closer there were papers completely scribbled out, torn, crumpled; it looked like a disaster. he couldn’t count the amount of tabs open of your computer, the chaos that reigned the screen made his head hurt just looking at it. there were at least 2 empty coffee cups on the floor and another on the table, the ice melting into the now lukewarm americano. his hand cropped the one he brought you a little tighter. 

“sweetheart?” he questioned carefully, kneeling down to reach face level with you. 

though you were curled up, he caught a clear glimpse of your face. you looked nearly lifeless and his heart shattered. minho knew it was just finals. he knew that you were probably fine, but what made him break was the fact you were going through it all alone. it had been days since you contacted him, and it wasn’t an issue for him, the two of you were good at maintaining your own personal time, and as per usual he never pried. but the thought of you, pulling through like this for days left his stomach falling into the deepest pits within himself. 

“my poor baby…” his finger traced your cheek, now squished against the table. your skin was dull, eye bags too present, day old makeup faded and smudged all over your eyes. minho kicked himself for not coming sooner. 

minho’s arms curl under you and he pulls your body into his arms. you’re so knocked out that you barely notice the movement. as if it were second nature, you curl into his hold as he hoists you up. his face softens a little as you do so, relieved that even in this state you know to trust him completely. his arms bring you to your bed where he carefully tucks you in, giving a gentle pat on your head as he moves to clean up your desk.

scattered papers and endless notes littered the surface of your desk. it wasn’t just your desk though. your room itself was left in a messy array, the days of stress piled up and you couldn’t bring yourself to clean, as litter and clothes became too much to handle. without a second thought, minho cleaned, folding clothes, tossing garbage until your room was spotless. he finished at your desk, beginning to pick up your papers as you woke.

silently, you approached him, your hand resting on his from behind as he gathered some sheets of paper, 

“minho…” you said groggily, “don’t worry about it… i-i’m not finished with those. gotta finish them then i’ll clean it up”

you attempted to grab the notes but he stopped you. his hand took the papers from your own. without a word he continued to gather the papers and pile them neatly to the side. you didn’t have any energy left to stop him, to argue. you just let him do this thing. after he powered off your computer, he finally turned to you. his hands now rested on your cheeks, gently brushing the soft skin on your face. his head tilted at you as if you were one of his cats, his thumbs brushing the crusty makeup around your eyes. 

“did you sleep well?” finally he spoke

”i have a lot to study…”

”did you eat today?” he continued 

“there’s only one more day before my project is due…” he remained quiet and continued to caress your face, “… i won’t have time to study after my classes and…” you began to lean into his touch, softening up from both your sleepiness and his affection, “…and…” you could melt into the way he looked at you right now, “…and i have to finish… i’ll rest when i…”

”you must be so tired, hm?” there was no other infliction in his voice aside from affection

“…yeah,” you admit, “…i’m really tired.” 

tears began to well in your eyes as you dipped your head down. he didn’t let you though, using a gentle finger to tilt your head back up. new tears traced down the same path as the ones that were now dried on your cheeks. 

“let’s go take a shower?” he asks and you nod. his hand leads you to your bathroom as he begins to use your makeup remover to gently wipe the makeup from your face. 

his hands are too gentle, you think, as he cleans your skin.

”after this, we can study in bed, yeah? together.” he gazes down at you as he tosses one wipe for another, “next time… please call me. i know you want to do this alone, i get it, i thought the same way too. but now that i have you, i could never want to be alone again. trust me when i say, i will never be tired of being with you, helping you, no matter what it is. just please, call me when you need me,” he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, “i promise i’ll call you when i need you too.”

please leave feedback please please please

[faith369]

I'll never leave you love

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (use of love)

Warning: angst, comfort, mentions of death and violence, panic attack (reader), nightmares

Summary: Ghost comes home finding you inpanic and comforts you

Your eyes were trained on the TV, trying not to look at the time and distract yourself from the anxiety that creeped up your spine, but the pounding of your heart inside your chest made it hard to concentrate on the voices coming from the TV. He wasn't home yet. He should be though, you gave in and looked at the clock he should be home for since 6 hours. He's never been late, and he'd write you if he were to be. The anxiety that has been trying to creep up on your body has made its way to your head. Dark, unlogical thoughts start pestering your mind like a house infested by bugs. What if he's lying somewhere in the field, the coldness of death replacing the warmth of his body? What if he's hurt with no one in sight to care for his wound? What if he's being tortured, his screams of pain not reaching ears that care to help? Your heart beat spiked you couldn't imagine losing him, but your head did just that, turning the pestering thoughts into the one clouding thought that he wouldn't come home to you.

Simon watched the numbers of the elevator go up before finally reaching his desired floor. He was supposed to be home a few hours ago, but his flight got delayed, and his phone died on the way back. He thinks about the time when he wasn't keen on going home, but now he often catches himself looking at the time on missions, counting down the hours until he gets to go home and see you again. Trying not to wake you, he carefully turns the keys. The flat is quiet, and all lights are turned off. The adrenaline of the mission is finally washing away, being replaced by tiredness instead. As he slips off his boots and lets the weight of his duffle bag hit the floor, he perks up to hear quiet sobs coming from the living room.

"Love," you turn your head, a wave of relive washing through you when you see Simon, but your mind didn't fully adapt, not even as you get up and grab his shirt, having to feel that he's there. "Hey, what's wrong?" Simon hears your rapid breath and pulls you against him. "It's fine, love". He was worried, and not knowing what happened made it even worse. Violent sobs shake your whole body as you cling to Simon, scared that if you let him go, he will disappear. His hands go to wipe your tears, only now noticing the dark circles under your eyes. "I thought something happened, t..thought you wouldn't come home." Simon knew you were worried sick every time he left for work, even though he often downplayed the dangers of his job. He didn't know just how badly your head makes up scenarios when he's gone or how often you wake up in the middle of the night sweat clamming onto your shirt, waking up from a dream that feels like a glance into the future where he's gone, and you're left with dog tags and a skull mask splattered with blood that for ones isn't from his enemies but rather himself. Simon's' brows furrow. He hates it. He hates the way that he is at fault for worrying you, especially when you almost faint in his arms. "Love, let's go lay you down, and then we'll talk okay".

He doesn't wait for your answer before scooping you up in his arms, carrying you to your shared bedroom, and carefully laying you down on the soft mattress, which bends under his weight as he lays down next to you, immediately pulling you onto his chest. "You don't have to worry about me, love; I'll always come back home to you. You're the only reason I want to go home and stay alive on that field. I think about you when I try to find sleep in safe houses at night, and what pains me more than to be away from you is to think that you suffer under it, so I swear I come home even if that would mean digging myself out a grave.

"Promise" your voice was almost a whisper, the exhaustion of crying and the lack of sleep catching up to you

"promise"

Simon wrote Price that night, after you slept in, taking some time off.

A/N: Follow, like and repost. Requests are open

-Love Faith <3

[chaoticloving]

Made a friend today?

harry styles x reader (SOH)

summary: Y/n asks harry to buy some pads, and of course, he gets spotted.

w/c: 2.1k

warnings: nothing but period stuff ig

a/n: my period is going to be the death of me but this photo is so precious

Harry got into London late. The plan was that Harry would go back to his place since it's three in the morning, then once he has woken up he would text Y/n to let her know he was coming over, ending with them being disgustingly cute together by cuddling on the bed and watching a movie together.

Instead, Harry got a text that caused his heart to beat to extreme levels.

Can you come over?

The text at any other time of day would make this completely different. But its 3 am on a Tuesday--she should be asleep in her large bed.

Obviously, he responded with a yes and sprinted out of the jet, pushing the boys out of the way which caused some swears and threats from the others. Harry continued to make his bandmates even more angered by taking one of the private cars ordered and gave the address to Y/n's flat.

Harry has always been the one to overthink. From conversations with people to punctuation, it's no surprise he started to think the worst. But one of the most troubling things was that he couldn't quite place what could be wrong. It wasn't an emergency and life threatening. And despite the fact that yes, he'll admit, his first thought was infidelity, it was squashed quickly. He was confident in his relationship, there was no need to worry about love in the relationship.

So what could possibly wrong ?

Harry jumped out of the car after throwing a wad of money to the driver--politely, of course, he's still a gentlemen--after saying a quick thank you. He ran right up to the door and started to knock.

He knew the knocking might freak Y/n out a bit but he was a bit too tired to realize, not to mention it was coupled with his anxiety growing in his stomach.

Eventually, the door was swung open. Harry was met with a tired, baggy-clothed Y/n, her eyes were squinted from the bright street lamps along with the skin under her eyes being dark.

"Harry--"

"Oh my god, are you okay? Dying? Bleeding out? Broken bone? I can call an ambulance, right now." Harry asked, hands shaking and tracing over Y/n's face and looking all over her body.

"No, Harry, come in." She smiled softly and guided her ever-so freaked out boyfriend into her home. She sighed heavily as she locked the door behind him and guided them into the kitchen. She had some candles and dim lights on in the kitchen, as well as some warm tea ready made. Marney and Sugar sleeping softly in their beds. "Sorry I didn't mean to freak you out with the whole ominous text."

"But whats wrong? Are you okay?" Harry's voice was laced with concern.

"I just missed you too much. " She sweetly answered, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his nose sweetly. "Plus I have the worse stomach ache ever and I need a cuddle. "

Y/n felt a little guilty for not telling Harry the whole truth. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed that she was on her period, it was the fact that she missed him. She felt a bit silly coming clean and saying that she couldn’t wait to see Harry was because of some hormone changes.

But Harry didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed relived. He hugged her tight, “let’s get you to bed then.”

“After I finish my tea.”

“Right after though.” He kissed her lovingly and wouldn’t remove his arms from her which lead to her awkwardly sipping her tea.

They made small talk. Harry was talking about his concerts and the flight back, mentioning that he’s been writing again and is proud of what’s he got so far.

Y/n spoke on her recent interviews. She was in the interview phase of the movie process and she can’t wait for it to be over. All the questions were either the most basic question that could be asked or one extremely invasive—mostly pertaining to her relationships.

After a few more minutes if swaying and chatting, Y/n took the initiative to move them upstairs after she saw Harry yawn and his eyes drooping.

“Mhm, I’ve missed your bed.” Harry moaned as he collapsed onto the cozy bed.

“Get out of your airport clothes and brush your teeth.” Y/n scolded, making her own way to the bathroom. “I washed some of your stuff and it’s in your drawer.”

Harry groaned but complied. Stripping and leaving the clothes on the bedroom floor. He walked into the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush and joining Y/n in the night routine.

As Harry looked at them in the mirror, he paid special attention to Y/n’s face. Her eyebrows scrunched and her hand would rest on her lower stomach. She seems to be in discontent, which spurred back on Harry’s protective mode. He did, though, have half a brain to wait to talk to her when

“Is the fan on?” Y/n asked as she stepped out of the bathroom.

Harry sighed when he saw it was. “Don’t know why you like to be so cold." He shivered.

"You get too sweaty."

They collapse onto her bed, Harry wrapping his arms around her waist. Y/n doesn't seem to like that--she shuffles around every few seconds, with Harry trying to touch her when she stops for a couple of seconds.

Y/n wriggled and crushed Harry's hand for the third time before he said something. "Are you okay? You've been off all night."

"Just my stomach." She sighed, finally resting on her side with her legs spread out. "Got the worse pain."

"Anything I can do?"

"Can you grab my heating pad? It's in the closet." Y/n smiled a big smile, which Harry rolled his eyes and got out of the bed and into the chilly air.

"Think ya ate something funny?" Harry asked from the closet, moving things around to find the device.

"Uhh, no ." Y/n started to think Harry would be grossed out. She mostly knew she was being irrational, but it was late at night so she was anxious (and on her period).

"Then what'cha think it is?"

"My period."

"Huh." Harry turned off the closet light, handing the heating pad that Y/n immediately turned on.

"My period."

"Oh." Harry froze for a quick second, then going back to slipping under the covers. "So you are bleeding out."

"Ugh, shut up." She lightly smacked. "Never should of told you."

"What? I'm being so supportive." Harry acted offended. "Not like I'm grossed out. Never was opposed to having some blood on my sword, anyway."

"Please shut up and cuddle." Y/n choose to ignore the innuendo. Back facing Harry, wanting to be the little spoon tonight.

Harry gently places his arms barely even on her, ghosting over her skin. "If I cuddle ya too hard are you gonna squirt like a ketchup packet."

"If you say one more thing I'm kicking you out."

...

The next morning was a living hell for Y/n. It felt like satan was personally living in her uterus and was trying to claw his way out.

"Do you think you could take Marney out for me? My stomach is still upset." Y/n asked when Harry and her both getting ready for the day. The morning so far consisted of Y/n and Harry cuddling each other in bed, but instead of being in a blissful state like Harry was, Y/n was dying.

"Of course." Harry answered, kissing her nose with his fresh minty breath. "Can you call your doctor or someone to get any help?"

"I just need some meds." Y/n sighs. Harry hugs her then placing a gentle kiss on the skin next to her eye.

Harry goes out of the bedroom door and greets Marmalade with a high pitch noise. She hears the door close and goes to one of her cabinets under her sink to grab a tampon. But, of course, Y/n grabbed the last one. She groaned in frustration, knowing that she needs to go get some more but was too tired to go to the local Tesco to grab some more.

She knew she would have to ask Harry to go out. She sighed and quickly inserted the tampon and washed her hands before leaving to the kitchen to make some coffee and get the pets breakfast out.

She poured the pet food into Marmalade and Sugar's bowl. Sugar came scampering in from the sunny corner of the living room to eat his food, purring a thank you when Y/n scratched behind his ears.

"Morning baby." Y/n smiled, going back to making some coffee to her and Harry's standards--Harry liked about a third of the cup to be coffee, the rest being some sugary creamer with even more sugar into it.

"Sugar, do you think Harry's mad I asked him to come here so late last night" She asked the cat, voicing her concerns only to realize how silly she's being. "Never mind. He loves sleeping over and seeing you cuties."

Sugar meowed in return.

"Think he would get mad if I asked him to go out again?" She questions, getting some ibuprofen for herself and swallowing the tablets with the coffee.

"I did just get him to take Marney out. Might piss him off if I keep ordering him around on our day off together."

The door opened, luckily when Y/n wasn't talking to her kitty, Marmalade's pattering feet came into the room to find Y/n, then rushing right over.

"Morning sweet girl." She gave Marney some scratched behind the ear and a belly rub. "Go eat your breakfast."

"Where are my head scratches?" Harry teased, grabbing his coffee mug and taking a drink of the "coffee". "How's the cramps?"

"Not good, but I took some medicine." She told him, then cleared her throat. "Can you do me a big favor?"

"Anything you need, babe."

"It's just that my stomach hurts too much and I know I keep asking you to do stuff for me and I am sorry. I just don't think I can be too far apart from the bathroom." She took a deep breath. "Could you maybe get me some stuff for me?

"Yeah, yeah, of course." Harry set the cup down and went to his the front door to put his shoes back on. "Period stuff?"

Y/n smiled, nodding. "Yeah. Thank you." Y/n hugged Harry and gave a quick kiss to his lips.

"Don't tear up on me." Harry laughed when he saw her worried expression. "I don't mind, I'm glad I can do stuff like this for you."

"You’re too sweet."

"I'll be back in a bit." Harry grabbed his wallet and waved goodbye to Sugar who was now by Y/n feet.

"I need to make him some pancakes, Sugar."

...

Harry has never been in this section of the store before, or at least he can't remember being here. He grew up with his mum and Gemma, so he's not stupid, he knows what a period is and he never thought of them as unclean or gross--he knew damn well that Gemma would fight him (and win) if he thought otherwise. Harry just never gave much thought to how this stuff works.

As he looked at the selection of period items, he wondered what the different numbers ment and was desperately trying to look it up online with no luck.

But then again, he would much rather be looking at the period products then the little tests just down the aisle.

"Are you okay, boy?" Harry looked up to see a concern older women with a teenage daughter--jaw dropped-- next to him. "You look really confused."

"Uhm, my girlfriend asked me to get her some stuff and I don't know if I should get pads or tampons or what the numbers mean."

"You men are so funny sometimes." The women chuckled to herself. "The higher the size, the heavier the flow it can take. Typically, 4 and 5 are night pads and 1 though 3 are day time ones. But at there is no harm in getting a higher size."

"Tampon sizes work the same way, just it is not recommended you sleep in them." She clarified. "Do you know if she likes tampons."

Harry shook his head.

"Alright. To be safe, get some pads; and if she is completely out, I'd say get a 5 and 3."

Harry nodded, fully listening to the women, paying no mind to her daughter who was typing furiously on her phone.

Harry grabbed the two boxes and nodded. "Thank you for your help."

"Get her something nice too. Just so she knows you care."

Harry nodded and thanked the women, he turned to leave as he heard the conversation between the mother and daughter. "You just helped the Harry Styles with choosing pads."

"Who?"

"He's in the same band as that Louis guy I'm obsessed with."

"Ohh."

Harry grabbed some flowers and gummy bears before checking out. He practically ran out of the store to get back to Y/n, promising himself he would not let Y/n know about the conversation he had with the women.

...

He got back to Y/n, unlocking the door with a key Y/n gave him. He was met with a sweet smell of maple syrup. He took of the shoes and walked into the kitchen.

"Made a friend today?" Y/n laughed.

Harry looked like a dear caught in the headlights. "No." He gasped, going to look at what was on Y/n's phone.

[chilumi-shipper]

My Favorite Girl (2)

Arataki Itto x Shrine Maiden!Fem!Reader

Summary: Part 2 of My Favorite Girl, you unexpectedly return, missing everything and everybody. You want to make things clear, does he still love you? And do you still love him?

Tags: Two lines with curses, Bullying in work place, Angst to Fluff

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Itto remained seated by the docks, similar to how his days ended the past month. The burning ache of your departure never left him, in fact, it has only gotten worse, your lack of presence making itself known to him and a certain mini-sized bull.

Two months.

You've been gone two months, double the time you said you were gonna spend on Watatsumi Island. All his prayers to see a boat containing you had been ignored, much like the letters he sent to you while you were gone.

"Hey, babe! How's the job treating you?"

"I know you'll ace this job like you always do! What is it that Shrine Maidens do specifically that they have to switch locations? Well anyway, you'll do so good, you probably won't even need a full month to finish the job."

"Looooveee, don't let Ushi warm your side of the bed for too long, okay? His sleep moos are kinda annoying, ya know? Ohh, crap! He caught me writing you a letter!" This particular letter had a bite mark and a hoof print of the sleep moo-er.

"So... I don't know how to start this up without sounding like a total jerk, but... Well, first I wanna say happy birthday! Very very late happy birthday..." This letter was quite long, yet it received no reaction.

"You haven't returned any of my letters yet, which is totally okay if you're too busy! But I just wanna know if you're okay... I really miss you, Ushi misses you, the gang too! It been a little bit over a month, waiting for you~ I love youu." This letter was signed by each member of the Arataki Gang, each with their own little message.

A few letters of concern goes by, no response.

"It's been two months, my darling... When are you coming back home?" He wrote this one drunk and in tears, the feeling of missing you sinking deeper and deeper into his gut, not letting him shrug off the feeling like he did before.

"Boss! Look what I found in your mail!" The loud shout of Akira irritated the many people at the docks of Ritou, but it did its job of catching the oni's attention.

Itto turned to see the gang running up yo him. "Hey! You can't just go through my mail like that! What if you accidentally open ones for Y/N? She'd kill ya!"

"Yeah, I know, boss. But I actually got this from the mail delivery before it reached your house, sooo... this isn't your mail yet..." Akira remarked, proudly showing off his loophole.

Kuki Shinobu rolled her eyes before urging him, "Go on then, show him."

The Akira, Mamoru, and Genta excitedly showed Itto the letter in Akira's hands. "From Miss Y/N herself! Ohhh, is our Honorary Maiden about to return? We must rejoice!" Genta exclaimed, hyping up the other members too. Ushi himself couldn't keep his little body from jumping in joy.

"Looks like we don't have to go to Watatsumi for a grand Arataki rescue mission."

"Yeah, hmmm... I was kinda excited about that though."

"Now, hold on..." Shinobu broke their thrilled conversation. "We haven't even read the letter."

"Shinobu's right. Maybe... she just wants to say there's nothing to worry about, and she'll be staying there longer..." The hopeless voice coming from the oni, perhaps preparing for dissapointment, didn't go unnoticed. The gang noticed the change in attitude their leader has been having a few weeks after you left, getting worse with each passing day without you.

"Aww, boss, don't be like that! I'm sure Miss Y/N's had enough of Watatsumi now, she's probably preparing to head home right now." Mamoru attempted to comfort his boss, but Itto has told himself the same so many times that he feels like he can no longer hold the statement in a high regard.

Ushi softly pushed Itto's ankle with his hoof, urging him to open the letter.

"I apologize, my dear. This letter may be long overdue, but I want to let you know that I am doing just fine, there is nothing to worry about. I will be returning in just a short while, I trust that Ushi has kept my side of the bed warm for me, hehehe. To the Arataki Gang, I missed you all as well, I look forward to seeing you. And as for my beloved, Itto, let's talk once I'm there."

"She's really coming back home!" Everyone celebrated, but Itto's mind started spinning.

The most terrifying words... "Let's talk..." without a hint of emotion.

He looked at the letter once again...

Not even an I love you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Itto didn't expect the "returning in just a short while" to be just a few hours after he received the letter.

But when he found the door of your shared home open, you were standing visibly inside with your luggage laying on the ground, he could only stand in shock.

He has been dreaming of your return for the past month, but he hasn't exactly thought about how he was gonna greet you, he wasn't even sure whether you were still upset about how he treated you then.

"Y/N..." He whispered the name of the love of his life into the air, being loud enough to just about graze your ears.

You turned to look at him, and immediately, your heart fluttered at the sight. The ever so idiotically dashing man you think is still yours. Your heart sunk at the thought, opting to smile at him instead.

"Itto... Am I still welcome here?" There's a pain constantly in your chest when you think of him. Is his home still your home? Have you been thoroughly replaced? Did you absence spark something between him and a certain ninja you know?

"What are you-" The oni started of confused. "Of course you're welcome here! This is your home, did you think Ushi clamed your ownership entirely? He only took up the bed, but that's it, really." You giggled at his remark, finding it easy to talk to him still.

"It's just that you probably didn't expect me to come back now. My letter was pretty late, as I've heard." You reasoned as you look around, seeing that practically nothing has changed from when you left.

"Well, you wanted to talk, so let's save that for later, why don't we?" Itto picked up all of your luggage, reminding you of his pride of not making two trips just to transport something, prompting you to smile as you nodded at his suggestion.

Your smile lit up the house he found so lonely while you were gone, so naturally, he noticed you smiling at him, and it brought a light feeling to his heart. "What? Missed your strong oni carrying everything for you?"

Your oni... Is he really?

Your smile faded a bit, but you made sure to catch yourself so he wouldn't notice, "Yeahh, I really did..."

...

"So you're the maiden from Narukami right? The one in love with an oni?" You caught the condecending tone of another Shrine Maiden as she spoke to you.

You decided to ignore the way she spoke to you. "Yes, that's right! How can I be of assistance?"

"Mind throwing this to the garbage, just some useless junk mail." She placed a sizable amount of crumbled and shredded paper onto your hands. "Thanks." After giving you the most ungrateful thanks, she walked away giggling with her friend.

You merely sighed, heading for the trash can, pouring the paper in the bin. Just as you were about to walk away, you noticed something on the paper... Ushi's signiture hoof print.

With a gasp, you grabbed it and read the letter that was at such a sorry state. The letter was light hearted, yet when you read it, you almost broke down right next to the garbage. You scooped up the rest of the paper you just threw away and hurriedly ran back to your quarters. Most of the letters are in pieces, but you still needed to see what they say.

After two months in Watatsumi, you only received their letters then.

...

You're finally back home, the suffocating air the Watatsumi Shrine Maidens breathe no longer in your lungs. You took another look of the house as Itto carried your things into your shared room.

In a tired manner, you sat down on the couch, and Ushi immediately took a seat next to you. "Hello, my little bull..." You cooed affectionately, patting his head, which he all responded to positively.

Everything is where it should be... so normal and so familiar.

"Darling! I have a surprise for you! I almost forgot since, ya know, you came unex-" Itto's excited voice and enthusiastic movements halted when he saw you sitting down on the couch. "Y/N...?"

Your head was down, small sobs came from your throat, and he can tell that you're trying yo hold them in. You curled up into a ball, sobs getting louader as you can no longer hold such a pain in your heart.

"Itto, please... I need you..." At your call, the oni dropped his gift to the ground and hurried to your side before pulling you to his chest. "Let me stay here..."

"Love, it's okay... I'm right here. And you can stay right here too." He kissed the top of your head, rubbing you shoulder to calm you down.

"Don't leave me all alone. Do-Don't forget about me..." You were begging, clinging onto him. Hoping he wouldn't walk out the door without a thought.

You wrapped your arms around him, sitting on his lap before burrying your face on his neck. The concerned oni didn't completely understand, but he understood that you needed him, so he's going to be there, he isn't leaving you alone in your home this time.

...

"Feeling better?" With a grin, Itto placed a cup of hot chocolate in front of you. The sight of you nodding left him feeling relieved.

"I'm right here, darling, alright?"

"Do you still love me?" The oni was shocked by the suddenness of your question. You looked at him, expecting an answer.

After composing himself, Itto stood in front of you at the dinner table, giving you the same look. "I fucking love you too much for you to start questioning my love."

"But you gave me a reason to... question it..." You pointed out sheepishly.

The man you love sighed, "I know, and I'm hoping... if you let me, I can make up for that..." He then proceeded to place a gift in front of you, right next to the hot chocolate.

"My very very late birthday present?" You gestured at the gift with a smile.

You felt in your heart that... you should trust his words, to let him prove his love. So you will.

"So you did receive my letters..." He teased right back.

"It's a long story..." You sighed, looking at the present in front of you.

"And I'll be hapy to hear it, love. Because I will always be here." Itto walked up to you and proceeded to wipe the lone tear that fell from your eye.

You stood up and jumped at him, hugging him immediately. "I'm really sorry, Itto... I shouldn't have left."

Tears yet again fell to your cheeks, "But when you forgot about my birthday, about our special day... about me..." You recalled the many nights you spent without him by your side.

"It made me... questionn your love..."

The love of your life hugged you back, letting you lean on his chest. "Then let me ask you now... Do you still love me?"

You chuckled against him.

"I fucking love you too much for you to start questioning my love." He couldn't help but let out the biggest grin when you said that.

The oni let go of you, before bringing the gift to your attention. "Since you love me so much, you'll let me take you out on a date and wear this, right?"

As he opened the box, you saw a necklace with a pendant that in a shape of a bull... he knows you too well. Yes, this is the beautiful jade necklace, it is made out of jade, soooo...

You hear a moo at the your feet, making you look down. "Oh, and here comes Ushi." Itto bantered with the idea of him and the bull being competitors for your love.

Ushi presented to you a wilting flower, along with the purest eyes you can see on a bull.

"Ohh, my sweet darling, thank you so much!"

Itto scoffed, "He literally plucked it out of the neighbor's garden, he almost cried when he was being shouted at."

"Ahh, Ushi has faced such a great trial for this flower, I appreciate it even more."

As the two compete for your love just like old times, the hot chocolate on the table goes cold.

...

"Uh, Shinobu..." The boat of the rest of the Arataki Gang docked at Watasumi Island. "What are we doing here again?" Mamoru questioned the green haired girl.

"Apparently, there's a problem about receiving mail in the Sangonomiya Shrine, and that's why Miss Y/N took so long to get back home." Kuki Shinobu clarified. "Miss Yae asked us to take care of it. Think of this as part of the rescue mission you were talking about."

"Yeahh, alright! Let's kick some mail troblemakers butts!" Akira exclaimed.

"Yep, that's exactly what Miss Yae asked for. This is probably the only Shrine Maiden related thing I like, except for Miss Y/N, of course."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

After a year with no update...

I was done with a lot of things on my plate (thankfully) so I thought, why not pick up an old project :3

Thanks so much for everyone's patience, for waiting for part 2 of this story for such a long time, I appreciate you guys (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Tags: @l0diluvs @iiyumii @lockem @t4m3-simp @eliciana @freezombielover

[live-laugh-lenney]

S I C K A R T H U R H E A D C A N N O N | A R T H U R T V |

** author note before you read; mentions of sickness, throwing up, and brief talks of drugs in the form of paracetamol **

-> yn knows. -> she just knows. -> arthur is very rarely ill, and yn envies that about him, so it knocks him for six when he comes down with any form of an illness and it's not difficult to see a change in his behaviour. -> and it goes both ways.

-> if a cold hits him hard, or the flu really knocks him down, he can barely stay awake. -> if he had any plans with his friends then she would send them a text to inform them that arthur probably wouldn't be able to attend whatever they had planned - whether it be filming for a new video, a podcast, or just meeting for lunch... -> 'georgey, arthur's pretty ill and i'm not waking him up to tell him he's gonna be late for you. just letting you know he probs won't be able to film with you today. sending apologies on his behalf. xx' -> 'Bless his cotton socks. hopefully this teaches him not to wear shorts and a t-shirt during a ChrisMD shoot in these current baltic conditions. But give him some smooches and cuddles from me. x' -> 'fancy coming over to look after him instead? i'm sure you fancy him more than i do... it's okay though. fess up and we can clear the air, clarkey. xx' -> when he does wake up, he doesn't even question the time. all he can think about is how rough he feels. -> he's alone in the bedroom. his phone is on his bedside table. and his alarm had clearly been turned off - which, really, he was thankful for because he definitely would have felt worse - and there's a glass of water with two tablets beside it. -> he knows that she knows he's ill. -> he wraps himself up warm; makes sure to put some warm socks on his feet, puts on a hoodie and pulls the hood over his head, he grabs the blanket from the bed to wrap around his shoulders and slowly walks into the living room. -> and she's decorated the living room for a cosy day spent inside; candles are lit and emitting smells he wish he could smell through his blocked nose, the tv has netflix launched up and ready for them to choose something to watch, the curtains are drawn closed and the sofa is turned into somewhere for them to lay on with everything (from chocolates and biscuits to bits of fruit to paracetamol and cold and flu tablets) on the coffee table and in arms reach. -> and they spend all day on the sofa. -> film after film after film, a nap in the mid-afternoon, watching tik-tok and showing each other silly videos they stumble upon and she enjoys having him to herself for the day and not sharing him with their friends and missing him due to his youtubing schedule. -> they order in take-away for a late dinner; a chinese because that's always their go-to meal when they can't be bothered to cook.

-> if its sickness that hits him then he really spends all day in their bed, closest to the bathroom, doing nothing but sleeping because his stomach is in knots. -> and she's there for everything that happens, even though he worries about her falling ill, instead of dealing with himself being so ill. -> "i don't want you to catch this-" -> "i'll be fine. if i catch it then you can look after me." -> "but it's horrible, lovie. i don't want you to have it." -> "i'm not going anywhere, arthur." -> "but-" -> "no buts, arthur. i'm choosing to look after you. i want to look after you. i'm staying out." -> she kneels behind him and she gives his hip or his knee a gentle rub every so often to let him know she's still there, sliding her hand round his middle and rubbing his belly in between retching and his skin is sweltering and he's sticky and warm. -> the only thing he can wear is boxer shorts because he feels hot and she's pretty thankful that the only thing she'd need to be washing is the bedsheets and dirty pants and no sick-covered pyjamas. -> she's rubbing his back as he throws up. -> she's wiping the sweat from his forehead with a damp flannel when he's done throwing up. -> she sits on the bathroom floor with him and lets him fall back against her once he tires himself out. ghostly white and covered in sweat. practically falling asleep from the moment his head his her shoulder and his face hid in her neck. -> he gets better through the day. drinking green tea and peppermint tea when he needed a drink, sipping on glasses of water, munching on dry toast and dry crackers and dry biscuits. -> she runs him a warm bath, sits with him to make sure he doesn't fall asleep and drop beneath the bath water, tells him silly stories that she has definitely told him before but he keeps asking for her to talk to him. -> and he sounds and looks drunk; slurring his words when he speaks, barely making sense to her, and his eyes are hooded and low and he has a tired smile on his lips. -> "jus' love listening to you talk, lovie. so soothing." -> "you're such a simp for me, huh?" -> "how can i not be? have you seen you?" -> "have you seen you? i should be the simp in this relationship." -> "m'so naked in front of you right now and you're not simping?" -> "i'm not looking, mister television." -> "i'd be looking at you, all the time, lovie." -> "you're just a little pervert, arthur. my little pervert."

-> she absolutely babies him when he finally comes to terms with the fact that he's sick. -> and he just lets her. -> usually, he doesn't like to be fussed over - he's always telling her that he's old enough to be able to do things himself and doesn't need other people doing things for him - but he doesn't have the energy to argue when he's ill. -> she's happy to look after him and he's happy that she's happy to look after him but, deep down, he just can't be bothered to argue with her. -> but he's appreciative of her. -> so appreciative. -> all the time, everything she does for him, he's so thankful.

[ayeforscotland]

I'm not a super dedicated gamer these days, but I loved Kerbal Space Program (a game that was more a labour of love than a commercial project) and was super hyped for the much delayed KSP2. When I saw it was releasing as early access (years late) I worried for its hopes of ever seeing completion and held off buying, now after all the other shananigans the entire team have been let go in yet another mass lay-off in the gaming industry. I feel like, a few notable exceptions aside, the big-budget gaming sector has been failing to deliver real quality games for a long time now, with lower-budget indie games more often coming up with gold from much simpler foundations. It seems almost as though developers are being pushed to shoot for unachievably epic games and releasing buggy messes, or vast but hollow worlds when the publishers get impatient or the money runs out. Is there any grain of truth in my feeling that bankrollers' expectations for games is leading to more games failing to live up to the hype as projects spiral out of control and over budget? Would big studios benefit from learning from indie devs and aiming to really nail down a simpler scope but on a scale beyond what the indies can achieve?

Industry-wise there’s a couple of things at play. And apologies for the length of this.

During the pandemic, there was a shitload of investment into the gaming industry as everyone was at home and many started playing games for the first time, so venture capital firms piled money in.

They were looking for a return on their investment, not really aiming to cultivate long-term studio success.

This puts pressure on the studio to get the game out the door quickly. That month or two of QA before launch just becomes overhead while you have a product that could be selling right now.

Chance to earn even more money for shareholders and execs? Welcome to microtransaction hell.

So that’s one side of it, investors/shareholders/execs forcing decisions that make games worse.

Next bit is partly influenced by the shareholder side of things but also a huge cultural side too. Lots of studios complete a project and then layoff staff because the next game isn’t ready to start being developed yet OR layoff staff because they don’t want to pay them OR staff leave to go and do something else (often due to lack of pay, lack of promotion etc)

And what this leads to is a *massive* corporate knowledge gap. People take their skills and knowledge and create voids. Voids that need to be filled by senior staff, which is why big AAA studios are always hiring seniors, and rarely hiring juniors. So all the seniors job-hop from studio to studio and there’s no new skill set being cultivated by new industry talent.

In my experience, these huge studios are also incredibly siloed. It’s something that impacts most industries, siloed teams lead to sluggish development and decision-making.

I think the games industry walks an incredibly fine line between being a creative endeavour and being a tech business. Process management methodologies honestly seem quite alien to the games industry, most of the time to its detriment.

It honestly wouldn’t be that hard to implement but Production as a discipline within games seems to be relegated to ‘staring at JIRA’ particularly in larger studios.

Could write forever about this to be honest.

Worth saying that indie studios also have their own issues. Almost everything is a scramble, and the search for publisher funding is a nightmare.

[plussizefantasia]

The Surprise

Flufftober Day 20: Hiking

Thorin Oakenshield x reader

Word Count: 2.1k

AN: Day 20! Wow, if I'm totally honest I didn't think that I'd make it this far. Feedback and Reblogs mean a lot. I'll see y'all tomorrow.

divider credit: @royallaesthetics

“You’ve not been yourself for quite a while my love. Tell me what troubles you.” Thorin had been more irritable than normal lately. He had taken to sparring more than normal and had been extremely short with some of the more resistant members of his council.

“It is nothing Ghivashel, do not worry your precious head about me.”

“I’ll always worry about you Thorin, that is what being your wife means.” You pulled him into your arms and looked into his eyes. “You are my heart, and when you hurt, I hurt. So let me lift your burdens.”

“Do you miss it?” Was his questioning response. 

“Miss what, Thorin?”

“Being free. The adventures that we had before we reclaimed the mountain. Slaying beasts and journeying with our closest friends.” He was wistful when he spoke of these things. His voice was soft and his eyes were glazed over. 

“Of course I miss it my love, but who is to say that it has to be over?”

His eyes met yours. “I have far too much to do. I cannot just leave the mountain to go on an adventure, not while things are still so fragile.”

“Well, yes. You cannot go on another year-long journey to reclaim our homeland. But you can take the weekend. The council is at an impasse as it is and Bard and Thranduil are not due to return for negotiations for another month.” You kissed his head. “Thorin you have done enough that I know the mountain will not fall apart if you were to leave for a short while.”

“But what kind of King would I be if I abandoned my people?”

“My love, you are not abandoning them, you are taking care of yourself. You are letting yourself blow off some steam so that when you come back you will be an even better King than you are now.”

“It is just not possible Ghivasel. I must put these thoughts far from my mind.”

“If that is what you think is best.” You sighed. Your husband was not one to be easily swayed, even by you. 

Your thoughts began to race though, thinking of all the ways that you could improve your lover’s mood and what would need to be taken care of before that could happen.

The next few days passed similarly to the ones before your conversation with Thorin. He was up before you were and returned to your shared chambers after you had already gotten ready for sleep. His mood only got worse and you decided that something needed to give. Which is why the next morning after you had awoken, once again to your husband’s side of the bed already cold, you had sought out Balin for a discussion during breakfast.

You had found him in the royal library, where he usually resided in the early morning. Nursing a cup of tea and flipping through pages of an old tome. 

“Balin, I need to discuss something with you old friend.”

“Anything, for my Queen.”

“I was your friend long before I was your Queen” You pointed out.

“Perhaps but, I knew you’d be Queen before even Thorin did.”

“That is precisely who I’m here to speak to you about.” Balin put his book down on the table next to him, turning his aging body towards yours fully, and gestured for you to take a seat. “Thorin is troubled. He misses the journey and the freedom that came with it. I do not doubt that he loves being King, but he needs to be just Thorin sometimes too.”

“I have noticed that Thorin has been more easily angered as of late. What do you have in mind?” 

“I’m so glad you asked.” You detailed your plan to Balin and bounced ideas of the old dwarf until the sun had reached its peak in the sky. Both of you had accidentally neglected your duties of the morning and spent the rest of the day playing catch-up. Any dwarf that saw the two of you in passing though, could only describe the two of you as possibly giddy.

Two weeks passed before the plan could finally be put into motion. Two weeks of sneaking around behind Thorin’s back, wrapping up loose ends, and ensuring that the mountain would in fact, not implode during your weekend away. It was hard work, and by the end of it, you were very much aware of why Thorin had been so tense lately. It just made you want to surprise him with your gift even more.

The morning of the surprise you intentionally woke up extremely early. Early enough that you were up and ready before Throin was. You pulled together your outfit and his and ensured that both of your packs were properly stocked.

When he finally woke, the confusion on his face quickly morphed into alertness and concern. He practically launched himself out of the bed before his eyes landed on your body and he instantly relaxed.

“What in Mahal’s name are you doing up?” His morning voice was rough and insanely attractive, you had to remind yourself that you were on a schedule before you acted upon the thoughts that came rushing to you at his words.

“I have a surprise for you, and I needed to be awake before you to stop you from leaving before it was ready.”

“Ghivashel,” his tone was apologetic, “today is much too busy for any kind of surprise.”

“Except, my love, it is not. I have already taken care of your duties for the day, and have canceled the meeting you had with the miners guild this weekend in favor of a crafter’s summit later this month where all of the workers in the mountain will be able to discuss their dilemmas together.” 

“You, what?” He was baffled, truly baffled. How had you possibly done all this without him noticing?”

“The summit was Balin’s idea, he insisted that it would work and I hope he was right. Nevertheless, your schedule and mine are clear for the next three days and I have planned a surprise for you. Your clothes are laid out for you and I have already packed for the both of us. Breakfast is in the kitchen, meet me in the stables when you are ready. I still have a few things to prepare before it is time.” You instructed him. 

“Time for what?” He grabbed your wrist as you began to walk out past the wooden doors of your chamber. 

“Time for your surprise, my darling.” You kissed him soundly and continued your exit. Leaving a confused but hesitantly excited Thorin behind.��

While Thorin was getting ready, you headed to the kitchen yourself. To grab the basket full of the feast you had called upon the kitchen to prepare. A long with some dried bread and cheese to put in your sack. Then you made your way to the other hall of royal chambers to ensure that the princes were awake and getting ready. Those two could sleep through an orc attack if they were given the chance, and today you would not be giving them the chance. 

“If you mess this up. I will shave your mustache in your sleep Fili I mean it.” You had threatened the eldest. You found that it only ever took a threat to the eldest to make sure that the youngest also followed through. Kili was sure that whatever was done to Fili would be done to him twofold. And he wasn’t really wrong.

Once you had made sure that you had everything you would need you made your way to the stables. Hoping that you’d beat Thorin there, or that he actually would show up and not just insist that he needs to work anyway.

You didn’t see him when you arrived but it was still early so you didn’t feel the need to send out a search party. It was only a few moments later when you heard him turning the corner. In the time you had been there alone, you had managed to set up both your horse and Thorin’s. Packs laid across their back and saddled properly placed and laced up. 

“Ghivashel, what is this surprise you’ve planned for me? And why did we need to meet here to start.”

“I think I can tell you now, as long as you promise to not leave when you find out.”

“I promise my love, just tell me I beg you.”

“Remember my love, how a few weeks ago you had confided in me that you missed the journey. That you missed being free. Well, I spoke to Balin and we put together a plan that would let you be free, if only for a little while. We are going on a mini journey.”

“Love, This is… Thank you.” You’d never really seen Thorin be speechless before, he had always been a man of few words, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen him without any.

“I just want you to be happy, Thorin. You’ve been so stressed lately that I wanted to help you feel better.”

He pulled you into his arms and fiercely placed his lips upon yours. You melted into his kiss. His lips moved on yours in a passion, relaying all the thoughts that seemed to be trapped inside of his mind. He kissed you like he would never be able to kiss you again. When you finally broke apart you took a big breath and tried to control the dopey smile that was threatening to cross your face. 

“We have to get going. I have a plan and if you keep kissing me like that I’ll never be able to follow through.” You pulled away from him reluctantly and made your way towards your horse.

“After you.” 

The two of you rode for about an hour before the riding trail cleared and the pathway became too treacherous for the horses. 

“This is where we leave them. The rest of the way is one foot.”

Thorin and you dismounted and you let the horses off lead so that they could make their way back to the mountain without you. The two of you continued on foot with Thorin occasionally leading you through some rough terrain. You spent the entire day together, looking at wildlife and speaking about things that had nothing to do with the mountain or kingly duties.

You reminisced about the first journey, about Bofur’s ability to make a joke out of everything. Of Bilbo’s incessant fretting and how amusing it was to watch. You swapped stories and recounted battles the whole way. Only when you recognized where you were and that the final part of the surprise was almost there did you grab Thorin’s arm and stop him from going any further.

“Okay, we’re almost there. But I need to put this on you before we go any further. You pulled a long thin strip of black cloth from your pack.

“A blindfold? Ghivashel…”

“I know, I know but it won’t be long I promise.”

He sighed deeply and heavily but acquiesced. You tied the blindfold around his eyes and grabbed his hand. Leading him through the last of the few hurdles until you made it to the clearing where the last bit of the plan was waiting. 

“Surprise!” A yell called out around you and Thorin reached up to pull his blindfold off. The sight that awaited him was the entire rest of the company. All spread out across the clearing. Bombur was stirring a pot that was piked above the fire. Fili held Kili in a headlock and Kili struggled to escape. Dori, Nori, and Ori were all sat around some logs and were smiling at him.

Thorin turned to you and in his eyes, you could read adoration and thankfulness. He briefly left a kiss on your cheek before he let a smile cover the entirety of his face and started towards his friends. 

You stood behind watching your husband be the happiest he’s been in a very long time. His eyes were light and his shoulders were straight. For a few short moments, he was allowed to be Thorin Oakensheild, not King under the mountain. 

“This was a fine idea, My Queen.” You looked down to the left of you. Balin stood similarly to you, arms behind his back with a gentle smile across his face. 

“It was a great plan, Balin. I thank you for your help.”

“Anything for you, and for Thorin. He’s lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have him.”

[queerfortress2]

Hope your day is lovely so far 💕 I was wondering if I could request headcanons, perhaps, the Support Class (or just Sniper and Spy) getting into a heated argument with reader? Like, how they handle it, who apologizes first, how it would play out, yk?

I'm such a sucker for tear-jerking angst to cheesey comfort, it isn't even funny. Your writing is so good, love all of it so far! ❤

aww hell im a sucker for that type of stuff too, its just too fun to write — mod engie

GN!READER X SUPPORT CLASSES ; ARGUMENT

MEDIC

i think it’s not as hard to get into an argument with this man, he always wants to be right, it’s kinda hard to disagree without arguing for at least 10 minutes with this man

he’s just that stubborn!

however fights usually end quickly, he’s a lot more logic-based in argument and not so much focused on the emotional aspect of it, so once he can’t find anything else to say, he will simply end the argument, concluding it all fancy-like

One day both you two had gotten into an argument, Medic had been staying in work later and later as the days progressed and as a loving partner you of course got concerned with it! as much as you two argue over stupid little things and get over it, you couldn’t just get brushed off over something like this, so you continued pressing "And who cares? Work is important, more important than you seem to understand, I can’t just quit halfway—" His hands gestured as he spoke, he accent getting thicker as he seemed to stress more on the argument, he wanted to end it quickly, as he usually does. "Aren’t I important too? You can’t keep ignoring it— You’re barely home! I deserve to know a little bit too!" Now that was a decent point, pulling at heart strings but, Medic wasn’t an emotional person. "And so? My work is none of your business! If anything at all— Who are you to question it! You don’t understand any—"

medic wasn’t an emotional person but it was clear he could understand your worry and how emotion seemed to cloud your vision, while he thinks he’s perfectly in the right (which he usually isn’t), he understands you can get hurt. Which is why he silenced himself upon seeing your upset expression, however it’d been too late, you’ve already decided to leave the room.

he just gave you time. if he did come after you immediately it would only rekindle the argument and made it worse— he realises this, and so he only leaves you alone.

depending on where this is, will be how long he waits. if you’re a fellow mercenary he just decides to catch you the next morning, if you’re not, then he will usually give you 10 minutes before searching for you and trying to "apologise".

going to be completely honest, he also just isn't the man to apologise... he would either (depending on the context) tell you you're wrong but he forgives you for it, or shy away from admitting defeat and just comforting you instead, saying he didn't mean whatever harsh words slipped his mouth at the time

medic lovers.. this yo man?

SNIPER

he is a lot calmer about it, and probably gives the best apologies out of the three

he can easily realise if hes wrong and unlike medic, his ego isn't that far inflated to where he can't man up and apologise to you.

fights probably don't last long with him, i would imagine him to be the one who avoids it, and if it does come up, it has to be something hes extremely passionate about for him to seriously argue with you, otherwise its just fun and games, bickering over something stupid.

assuming you were a mercenary, maybe after a battle if you were extremely reckless and he saw through his lovely ol' scope, he would confront you after. not in public of course, but somewhere like your own quarters or his van.

"Now—" He held the bridge of his nose, have you seated in front of him. His free hand on his hip, gripping his side as he tried not to seem to angry with you. "Do you know what coulda happened to ya' out there? Bloody hell— You coulda been blown to pieces!" It was clear you didn't mean to, but he still wanted you to be safe, even with the respawn, it hurt to see you die in so many ways. He didn't want to witness it over at over again. At least you didn't have to see how many spies got him, or how the enemy sniper caught him out of his element. "Cmon! Look at y'self, so what if you were barely scathed, I still had m'self on end! Quit thinkin' about only yourself for once in a damn while!" Now he wasn't quite sure how harsh it looked to you, borderline yelling at you for what you thought was good fun, but once you stubbornly stood up and beelined for the door, he realised he was still a bit in the wrong there. Gently grabbing your arm, his frown softened from one that was of anger to one of pity.

he apologised upfront, he was quick to fix himself, and he only expects the same from you whenever you upset him. its just how healthy relationships go, no matter how cooped up he is, he was still raised right enough to understand what is morally right. hes professional, and professionalism contains being polite don't it?

im a little bias i love myself some sniper

SPY

don't even

like genuinely dont start arguing with this guy i dont think he would even apologise

like you would have to ask for one to get one outta him

mostly because he always thinks hes correct, even its so clear that hes not, he has a reputation to keep! so he more often than not refuses to accept the fact hes incorrect, and stubbornly keeps his opinion

so in the situation where he would argue with you, he would never accept he was in the wrong even if you were bawling at him. ...but he would comfort you, hes not that bad of a partner.

he would ease the conversation away from the argument and focus more on your tears, saying something along the lines of 'oh dont waste your beautiful tears on something like this, mon trésor.' or 'ah.. n'inquiète pas ta jolie petite tête pour ça, mon amour'

honestly hes trying to sway you away from being mad at him, even if he wants to be right, he still is very much your lover and wants to keep it that way. you being mad at him almost makes him feel bad enough to apologise

almost

after each argument i believe he would coax you into getting in bed with him and just relaxing together, sleeping away whatever ails you.

going to be honest i don't know what else to write for spy, he just isn't the type to apologise to you after an argument, hes SOOO stuck up. also my formatting broke three times while writing this so if you see a mistake, no you dont.

[krirebr]

I Know I Should Know Better 1

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader, minor Colin Shea x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,873

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Angst, adult themes, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), drinking, sex mention, exhibitionism (from unhappy observer's POV), explicit language, bad boyfriend, self-destructive behavior, anxiety, negative self-talk. The reader's having a bad time, you guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Alright you guys, prepare yourselves for a lot of angst and a sloooow burn. The focus and goal of this story is definitely Curtis x Reader, but as it starts, Colin x Reader is the actual couple. This first part is in Curtis’s pov, but the plan is to alternate povs by chapter.

I hope you love this Curtis as much as I do. If you could let me know what you think with a comment or reblog, I'd appreciate it so much. Thank you for reading, lovelies! 💜

Curtis hated this job. 

The sounds of lewd moans and the repeated banging of a headboard hitting the wall filtered through the bedroom door into the common area of the large hotel suite. The new guy, Jensen, shifted uncomfortably in his chair at the small bar off the kitchenette, his eyes frequently cutting to the bedroom door.

“Just ignore it. It’s none of our business.” Curtis growled from his place at the island.

“Right. Sure,” Jensen nodded and just kept looking towards the room. Curtis rolled his eyes. He’d get used to it. 

The stylist and hair and makeup people were already set up in the 2nd bedroom. They’d been due to start 20 minutes ago. Michelle, your assistant, came careening out of that room and stopped dead in the center of the living room, locking eyes with Curtis. “We don’t have time for this!” she pleaded with him.

Curtis sighed and nodded and walked over to the bedroom. He banged on the door three times with the side of his fist bellowing, “Time to get going!” He really hated this job. 

“What the fuck???” cried a masculine voice from inside, quickly followed by your own uncontrollable giggles. 

Five minutes later, you finally came out dressed in a robe from the hotel, your hair all over the place. A man followed you, dressed only in his boxers. Colin. He’d been around for a few months. He was a rockstar, but in Curtis’s opinion, everyone was using that term loosely. He was in a band that was working on its sophomore album. Curtis only knew this because the guy wouldn't shut up about it. He wasn’t any worse than the other fuck boys you usually dated, but he certainly wasn’t the best of them either. Colin collapsed onto one of the loveseats, legs spread wide, and helped himself to the fresh fruit that was laid out on the coffee table.

“Ok!” you said when you got to the center of the room, hands on your hips, megawatt smile fully on display. It was always so blinding, even when he was annoyed with you, like now. “Where am I needed?”

“Go in there, please!” Michelle pointed. “We’re running so late!”

You just laughed. “Which is why you always build extra time into the schedule. Calm down, we’re fine.”

Curtis walked over to Colin and nudged one of his shoes with his own foot to get his attention. “Get dressed,” he growled. “It’s time for you to go.”

“Oh! He’s coming with us,” you said, just as you disappeared into the room, Michelle right on your heels.

Colin smirked obnoxiously up at him and wiggled his eyebrows. “Yeah,” he said, “I’m coming with you.”

“Fine,” Curtis gritted out. “I assume you’ll be wearing clothes when we leave?”

Colin stood up and slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Curty boy, I’ll get myself all pretty for you” and then went back into the main bedroom.

Curtis ran his hands down his face and stared up at the ceiling as he tried to calm himself. He hated this job. Maybe it was time to get into corporate security. Anything had to be better than this.

As he was thinking, Jensen cleared his throat behind him. “Is it always like this?”

“Yes,” he growled out without turning around, and then went to get an updated ETA from Michelle.

Curtis had been with you for almost two years now. Your team had brought him on during the stalking incident at the MTV Movie Awards. That situation had luckily been resolved quickly, but he'd stayed on after. 

On paper, the job was simple. Keep the house secure. Make sure strangers don't get close enough to touch you. Keep your parents as far away from you as possible. Always know the exits. Easy enough.

And he’d been surprised to find that he actually liked you. Outside of the clubs and parties, the VIP sections and private rooms. When you were easier to imagine as just a normal person. You weren’t as entitled as he’d expected. You worked hard and seemed to want to do a good job, even if you couldn’t keep to a schedule to save your life. Sometimes he felt like the wild streak was just something you put on, an obligation. But that was a ridiculous observation. He just worked for you. He didn’t actually know you.  

So it’d been a good job for a while, but at some point the balance between wild child and committed actress started to shift. And with that, the hours got longer, the entourage got bigger, the parties got wilder. The fuck boys got worse. It was taking its toll on him and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do it.

Curtis was standing in the green room of the talk show, watching your interview on the large TV mounted on one wall. Tanya, your publicist, stood near him, her arms crossed and brow furrowed as she watched, while Michelle sat on the couch, going through emails, and Colin parked himself in front of the food that had been laid out, now on his third beer. 

“She’s stiff,” Tanya remarked to no one in particular.

“Yeah, cause you wouldn’t let her have any of that,” Colin said, gesturing with a piece of meat in his hand to the ice bucket full of alcoholic drinks on the coffee table. Tanya had instituted a strict ‘no substances before interviews’ policy after the last time you’d done Kimmel and the interview had gotten a little too loose.

“She’s doing fine,” Michelle said, without looking up from her computer, but Curtis had to agree with Tanya. You did seem stiff. Uncomfortable. But he knew it had more to do with the current topic than any external factors. They’d dedicated an entire segment to the show you were on as a kid. It’s what made you famous. You never really talked about it. Didn’t seem to like to, but it almost always came up in interviews. Sometimes you laughed through it and it was fine, but other times it was more like what was happening now. He wouldn’t say that he knew or understood you, but he could read you and right now he could see, under your smiles and giggles that would fool anyone who didn’t spend their days watching you, that you were coming apart at the seams. He prepped a text to Jensen, telling him to pull the car around and saved it so all he’d have to do was hit send. Then he just waited for the interminable interview to end, clenching and unclenching his fists as he watched you put all your energy into just getting through it. 

Finally the conversation wrapped up and the host threw to a commercial after announcing the next guest. Curtis sent the text, grabbed a bottle of water from the ice bucket, and was already almost through the door and into the hallway when Colin exclaimed, “What the fuck?! She was supposed to mention my tour!”

Curtis was sure there was some sort of reaction to that, but he wasn’t around to see it because you were already coming around the corner, being led by a PA. You locked eyes with him and as soon as you were close enough for him to hear, you whispered, “Get me the fuck out of here.” He nodded and herded you down the hall, around several corners, until you got to a little enclave under a set of stairs with several plush armchairs. 

“Jensen’s bringing the car around,” he said gently, handing you the water bottle he’d been holding. “We can go out the back way. But I figured you might want a few minutes by yourself first.” You nodded absently, clutching the bottle of water in both hands. “I’ll leave you alone, but I’ll be just over there if–”

“Can you stay?” you interrupted, gazing up at him with pleading eyes.

Surprised, he asked, “You want me to?”

You nodded again and said softly, “Please.”

“Ok. Of course I’ll stay.” 

You just stood there for a moment, gazing down the dark hallway in front of you before you finally said, “I don’t get why they always have to ask about it. It ended over ten years ago. Like, who fucking cares? And the show was shit anyway.”

Curtis just stood and watched you, not sure what you wanted him to say, if anything at all.

“Like, I was a kid. I wasn’t even any good, you know? I’m just so fucking tired of talking about it. I don’t know why anyone wants to talk about it. It’s not like I have any good stories. Nothing good happened.” You seemed to catch yourself there and cut a wary glance to Curtis then shook your head. “I told Tanya that I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. That I wouldn’t answer any more questions. And she said that was ‘unrealistic,’ so here we are.”

 Curtis let the silence carry for a moment, making sure you had nothing else to say, then, softly, "I'm really sorry you have to do that. That isn’t fair to you."

You looked up at him at that, something akin to shock on your face and you shook your head at him. “What? No. No, It’s fine. I’m– I’m being dumb. It’s not that big a deal. I’m just being ridiculous. Like always.”

He really hated it when you did that, wormed your way in and made him feel deep, unrelenting empathy for you. It’d been happening more and more often lately. He needed to get out. “I don’t think you’re being ridiculous.”

You just stared at him for several moments and for the first time in ages, he couldn’t read what was on your face. Finally, you shook yourself out of whatever had been happening and said, “We should really get going, shouldn’t we? Can we go? I’m just making everyone wait, like usual."

His hands itched to reach out to you, touch you, but you didn't need that right now. Maybe not ever. Not from him. So instead he nodded and said, "Yeah, we can go," letting Jensen and Michelle know you were on your way. 

"You're such a fucking asshole!" you yelled in the alley behind a club in West Hollywood, hours later. You were drunk. Very drunk. Curtis really hated this job.

"I didn't do anything!" Colin threw his arms up in exasperation. 

"She was in your fucking lap!"

Curtis was standing by the door for now, hoping he wouldn't have to hold you back. Or, he thought, as he watched you sway dangerously, hold you up. 

“She just sat down. What was I supposed to do? Push her off?”

“You certainly weren’t supposed to put your arms around her!” You were getting really worked up now and Curtis readied himself to intervene. Jensen was supposed to be bringing the car. Where the fuck was he?

“I was being nice to a fan!” Colin shouted when Curtis saw a light out of the corner of his eye at the mouth of the alley. When he turned to look, there was a man standing there with his phone out. Shit.

He walked along the wall of the building, trying not to draw attention to himself. Luckily you and Colin were providing plenty of distraction so he was able to get close and snatch the phone away before the man noticed him there.

“Hey!” he shouted. “That’s my personal property! You can’t do that.”

“Uh huh,” Curtis said as he stopped and permanently deleted the current video and went back into the man’s photos to check for anything else. There were two more videos and a smattering of pictures. He’d gotten the whole fight. You did not need that all over the internet tomorrow. He deleted it all and then handed the phone back to the man who’d been yelling and swearing the whole time. Curtis pulled himself up to his full height and loomed over him, then said, “I better not see you again. You have a good night.” He glared and waited for the man to back down and walk away then headed back to you. You and Colin were still screaming at each other, but the topic seemed to have shifted.

“You’re so fucking selfish, you know that?” Colin yelled at you. “I ask for one thing and you can’t even do that.”

“It was my job! I was there to promote my movie, not your failing tour!”

“You’re a fucking bitch,” Colin said, as Jensen finally pulled up in the SUV. Thank god, because every muscle in Curtis’s body wanted to lay the asshole out flat, and if he’d had to wait one more moment for the car, he might have. 

“Hey!” Curtis yelled. “That’s enough!” he said to Colin and then turned to you. “Are you ok?” You nodded, but brushed a tear away. Fucking asshole. Keeping his eyes on you he asked, “We’re going now. Is he coming with us?”

“No!” you snarled. “Definitely not.” He nodded and opened the back door of the car.

“You’re just going to leave me here?” Colin pouted. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t care!” You yelled over your shoulder as you got in the car. “Get a goddamn Uber!”

Curtis was about to check in with you one more time, but you’d already slid to the other side of the car and were now staring out the window, so he shut the door and got into the front seat with Jensen. 

You were quiet on the hour long drive back to your house. Curtis looked back frequently to make sure you hadn’t passed out, but you were just staring out the window as the city zoomed by. He let you be while he conversed softly with Jensen about the rest of the night and the agenda for tomorrow.

When they got to your house and Curtis opened the car door for you, you looked up at him, surprised. “Hey,” he said quietly, “we’re here.” 

You didn’t really respond, just kept looking at him for a few minutes. Then your gaze shifted to your back door and your lip quivered. “You’re coming in, right?”

He stifled a sigh. He was really hoping he’d be able to get away with just dropping you off tonight, maybe doing a quick walk-through to convince you all was well and then finally taking off. It’d been such a long day. But instead, he nodded. “Yeah, I’m coming in.”

Jensen poked his head out the driver’s side window as Curtis helped you out. “Do you want me to wait?” he asked.

Curtis shook his head. “No, it’s late. You go ahead and put the car away and take off. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jensen nodded and gave him a quick wave. 

Curtis guided you inside and turned on the lights. He checked your security panel to make sure everything was as it should be and then guided you to the kitchen. “You want something to eat?” he asked and you nodded. He wasn’t used to you being this quiet and it was throwing him off.

He went to the fridge and pulled out one of the dinners your housekeeper had left for you. He threw it in your microwave and then grabbed you a glass of water.

“I’m so tired,” you said.

“I know,” he said, “you can eat this and then go right to bed.”

“No,” you shook your head, “that’s not–” You frowned but didn’t say anything else, just placidly looked around yourself.

The microwave beeped and he took your food out, putting the dish and a fork in front of you.

Staring into your living room, you said, “I kind of hate this house.”

He had no idea what to say to that. He looked through your open plan first floor. Everything was gray and glass. Fresh flowers on multiple surfaces made it seem slightly less empty, but he’d always thought it felt cold. Cavernous. “You could move.”

You just hummed and turned to your food. You ate a few bites and drank some water. Just as he was gearing up to tell you goodnight and get out of there, you looked him dead in the eye and said “I think you might be the only person who actually cares what I want.”

The shock that flooded his system must have registered on his face, because you immediately started backpedaling. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so out of it. Just ignore me. I’m fine. Just ignore me.” He whispered your name and you shook your head. “No, you’re right. I should go to bed. I’m sorry. Goodnight Curtis.” And with that you got up and went upstairs to your bedroom, leaving him dumbfounded, standing alone in the middle of your kitchen. 

After a few minutes he pulled himself together, put your leftovers in the fridge and your glass in the dishwasher. He turned off all the lights and let himself out.   

He paused on your step and leaned his head against your door.

He really fucking hated this job.

But he knew he’d never be able to quit.

Part Two

[sadesluvr]

heyy saw that you take requests again xx

i NEED some william/steve fluff nothing in particular its really up to you🥹

im so soft for him😭

A/N: Hi Anon, TY for the ask! I went with the Steve persona just because I feel he's a little nicer (despite the obvious XD). This is more of a drabble but I hope you like it! :)

Working in the public sector was extremely tiring, especially now, at the turn of the millennium, where more people were beginning to lose their jobs to computer software that was slowly on the rise. Luckily, you had Steve, one of the career counsellors at the local governance department, to help you sift through the workload.

Steve had been in the business longer than you (considered a ‘vet’), and had even won an award for ‘Social Worker of the Year’. Higher ups respected him, colleagues invited him to work dinners, and you certainly liked him - which was why you’d spent time in the office into the late hours of the night. It was 11:30PM when you’d both decided to call it a night, switching off the desk lamps and shutting down the copiers, completely oblivious to the fact that it had begun to snow outside.

“Damnit..” you muttered as you tried to start the engine of your car, desperately wanting to get home, make a warm mug of cocoa, and fall asleep. It seemed the universe had other plans, as no matter what you did the car didn’t start - and to make things worse, the sheer cold had caused your key to get stuck, ultimately breaking off in the ignition.

You were screwed.

A knock on your window signalled that help had arrived. It was Steve, painted with a warm smile spread across his cheeks, accentuating his dimples. 

“Need a hand?”

You weren’t entirely sure why he hadn’t dropped you home, but you knew that you were far too tired to care. You woke up on a chequered, albeit slightly worn yet comfortable couch with a blanket draped over you. What struck you the most was the fact that you were still in the majority of your clothes from the day before, but your top had been replaced with a large jumper, which smelled faintly of black coffee.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t see anything,” a voice chuckled, and Steve strolled into the living room holding two mugs. He looked like a different person entirely - dressed in a sweatshirt rather than a button up, cosy socks and slightly ruffled hair.

“You used the bathroom before you crashed last night,” he continued, placing a mug down onto the coffee table. “That’s how you got the sweater. It’s a little stained, but it’s all good,”

“Oh,” you said, rubbing your eyes. What time was it? “Thanks…”

“I hope this isn’t weird,” he said, smiling down at you as he perched himself on the armrest, sipping his own drink. “Gas was low, and the roads were icy…It just made sense to come here, you know?”

You nodded, savouring the taste of the drink on your tongue. It was your favourite; Steve had clearly remembered it from all those mornings at the office. 

“I get it,” you shrugged. “Your couch was kinda comfy, actually…I won’t be long, I know you’re not a big fan of having people over…” you finished, pulling yourself from your slumber. Steve may have been a well-liked guy, but he’d always been rather shielded when it came to his personal life.

Instead of being met with rejection, the man shook his head and raised his hand. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. “Half of the office has called in. It’s basically a day off,”

You raised your eyebrows and stared at the man in shock. Days off were basically foreign, let alone to someone as hardworking as Steve. Glimpsing out of the window, you could see that the snow had settled; a thick white layer lined neatly on top of the man’s car. Considering yours was still down at the office, and travel was likely dangerous, it meant that you were going to spend a whole day at his house. Just the two of you.

The thought made your heart flutter. Steve was rather attractive; mature, bright eyed, and most importantly, divorced. You wondered if your feelings for him were mutual, but judging by the way he was staring at you, you got the idea. 

“Are you sure you’re gonna want me around?” you teased, smirking. “Work and home life doesn’t mix…”

“I’ll take my chances…” he whispered, gaze unwavering as he walked over to the small fireplace opposite, lighting it so that it produced a few embers before joining you on the sofa, his long legs and large frame taking up most of the space. Whilst some may have found this claustrophobic, you found it rather inviting. There was something about him that was cuddly. 

He lifted up his arms, and you instinctively snuggled under him, burying your face in his chest as he lazily flicked through the channels of the television. It was an unexpected, yet perfect start to your winter.

If you were lucky, you’d spend the rest of your seasons like this.

[sassycheesecake]

A/N: I have been really into dark romance and shit, ever since I got that TikTok recommendation. I hereby present yakuza!Shinsuke Kita x Reader. Part 1/2

‘Shit. Shit. Shit! I am late!’, you curse yourself as you almost bolt out of the train, as soon as it stops and its doors open.

You accidentally ran into a lot of people, shouting quick apologies over your shoulder, still running to your workplace.

Thank the heavens for your stamina.

Finally arriving at the Tokyo Ambulance Rescue Station, you quickly run inside and each of your coworkers stops what they are doing to look at you.

Huffing and almost wheezing like you’re having an asthma attack, you step inside and head to the female locker room without looking at any of your coworkers.

Already feeling disgusted by your sweaty state, you change into your paramedic uniform nonetheless. 

Now in fresh clothes, you trot your way to one of the ambulance vehicles, seeing your friend Makima checking the equipment in the backpacks and making sure everything is filled up. 

Gulping in nervousness, you approach slowly.

“Glad you decided to show up. Almost done.” Makima tells you in a deadly calm voice. Makima is one of those people who despise being late, whether it's herself or someone she is waiting on. She is only a few years older than you but still your superior. Great, this is just your first month after graduating but you were so tired last night that you forgot to put on your damn alarm for the next morning. 

Not that this is an excuse, but your showing up is all that matters right?

With shaking footsteps, you make your way into the vehicle and start apologizing in a rant.

“Makima I am so so sorry, I promise it will never happen again!”, you frantically explain yourself, still out of breath.

The long-haired redhead briefly looks at you before bursting out laughing and you don’t know if this makes you feel better or worse. 

Giggling, she closes up the i.v. medication backpack and storages it back underneath the cabinet of the bandages. 

“(Y/N) don’t worry about it really, shit happens to all of us. No one is perfect and everyone here at the station was late once. Even me.” Makima explains and you can feel yourself being able to breathe easier already.

Just when you were about to reply to her, your beeper went off with a loud annoying peeping voice.

You run to the rack, where your black jacket with your name and the words T.A.R.S. are stitched into, and hop into the passenger seat of the vehicle.

Reading the screen at the front, you groan at the message that the fire station has sent you.

‘PATIENT PROB OD, TROUBLE BREATHING, UNCONSCIOUS, UNRESPONSIVE ‘

It’s probably the troublesome homeless teenager Denji again. You have met Denji twice now. Once beaten up badly and lying knocked out cold in an alley where he was found by a couple of passengers. The other time you found him almost bleeding to death due to a deep stab wound in his thigh, which he explained he simply got mugged. 

Nonetheless, you press the buttons for the siren and the blue lights, while Makima steps on the gas to rush to the scene. 

The rush and adrenaline are running through your system, making your heart bounce in excitement. Saving lives in acute situations is your thing! It’s a working environment that always comes with new foreign things and patients. Each day is different, which is exactly what your brain needs. Even if you have to drive through the massive city of Tokyo, the different kinds of people and the stories you get to tell your parents sometimes, are worth their shocking and even disgusting expressions sometimes. 

Once you were called to a restaurant, in which a patient had an allergic reaction and went into a nonlethal anaphylactic shock. 

The patient told you that his date was so horrible, that he purposely ate onions, even though he is allergic to them. 

All just to get away from her.

Shaking your head, the logic of men never ceases to amaze you. 

Arriving at the scene, you see two people leaning over a young guy that is laying on the sidewalk. He is already turned to his side, making sure in case he needs to throw up, he doesn’t choke on his vomit. Mentally thanking these people for performing the stable lateral position on the unconscious boy.

You grab the mobile vital monitor and the backpack that includes material for giving an I.V. including meds and an infusion. 

Before Makima grabs the breathing and the medical suction pump, she turns off the siren but leaves the blue lights on. Pressing the lock on the car keys, the ambulance is securely locked. Unfortunately, people tend to break into ambulance vehicles and proceed to steal the medications.

Both women are rushing to the patient, quickly going through the ABCDE approach, and they manage to load him onto the stretcher after making sure he didn’t overdose. His heart is beating abnormally fast, his blood pressure is at 75/40 and when you shine a small flashlight to take a look at his eyes, his pupils are dilated.

There’s no doubt about it, that Denji got his hands on cocaine.

After giving him Adrenaline and Naloxone, his condition stabilises and Denji begins to stir.

Blinking his eyes open, a bright light immediately greets him and Denji swears he died. 

He feels incredibly nauseous and his head is spinning like he just went on countless rides on a spinning wheel. 

You hover over Denji’s pale figure, a vomiting bag already in your right hand. 

“Denji? Can you hear me?” You ask him in a concerned voice.

When Denji was about to answer, he rapidly sits up and snatches the bag out of your hand, and hurls right into it.

Rubbing his back in a comforting manner, you sit beside him on the stretcher.

Makima is giving a quick report to their station boss, before joining you in the vehicle.

The sight of Denji vomiting disgusts Makima, deciding to wait outside because she can’t stand the smell or sight of someone throwing up.

“Denji, I think we should really take you to the hospital, you’re only 16 years old, where did you even get this stuff?” You ask him in a worried voice.

“It’s none of your business, let me out! I need to go!” Denji snaps at you, beginning to stand up. 

You know you shouldn’t fight someone who just woke up from a drug rush, so you let him stand up.

Standing on wobbly legs, he places his hand against the vehicle wall to stabilize his balance.  

Breathing heavily out of his mouth, he was about to open the vehicle door when Makima already beat him to it.

Surprised that he is up, she moves to the side to let him step out of the vehicle.

Denji almost falls flat on his face and his pale face makes you even more worried about him. 

“Denji, are you sure you’re okay? Do you want us to call anyone?” 

“Stop acting like you fucking care about me. I am just a street rat. I don’t need your pity! Just leave me the fuck alone!” He angrily spits at you, like a moody teenager that got his phone taken away. 

Makima and you are watching him walk away, still unbalanced but both of you leave him be.

“You’re welcome by the way for not letting you die today!” Makima yells after him. Denji shows his middle finger up in response and continues to stomp away.

Sighing in defeat, Makima and you get back into the vehicle and you are making your way back to the station.

Giving the report that the patient refused to cooperate and come with you, you drive back.

The clock strikes 22:00 and Makima and you are finally free to change after the night shift has arrived. 

Farewelling Makima goodbye, you begin to walk to the train station.

Having your headphones in your ear, you scroll through your Spotify playlist and choose ‘Glitter and Gold’. 

You had a really busy day and barely had a chance to go to the bathroom. 

Entering the women’s restroom, you look up from your phone, and the sight before you freezes immediately.

Right in front of you stands a very tall guy with sandy-blonde hair, he has to be at least 6’1 and he is holding a lot of tissues against his arm, blood soaking each tissue.

The stranger holds a painful expression while putting pressure on his arm.

His muscled body is leaning against the sink, the blood on his upper arm dripping down right into it. 

Brown eyes rapidly look in your direction, his face shining with curiosity.

Chuckling nervously, he starts talking with his deep voice.

“Don’t scream, don't call for anyone. Just got a little scratch on my arm.” 

Blinking a few times at his wound, you slowly step towards him.

Your approach is making him tense, his non-injured arm moving to his side, where he holds a dagger in case you want to attack him.

“Your wound looks pretty bad. Don’t worry I am a paramedic, I can take care of that if you want to.”

The blonde-haired giant looks at you for a few seconds, making sure you’re not lying. 

After a few moments of tense silence, he nods unsurely.

Breathing out slowly, you awkwardly glance at the door and at him a few times. 

“Uhm. Just follow me then, I need to take a proper look at it. I have my materials at home so come home with me so I can patch you up properly.” You explain to him.

His eyes watch you carefully, hesitantly he nods and puts his maroon jacket back on.

“Do you have a belt or something on you?” You ask him as you both exit the public restroom. 

The tall stranger nods and takes off his belt to hand it to you.

Grasping the belt you begin to tie it around his arm, so the wound hopefully stops the bleeding until you both arrive at your place. 

Wincing at the tightness, he thanks you quietly.

As you both begin to enter the train, which is thankfully empty around this time on a weekday, you ask him what happened to his arm.

“Not that's yer business anyway, so I’d rather not say.” He avoids your curious look. 

“But that wound is pretty deep! You need to go to the hospital and get that stitched up probably.” You try to reason with him.

“I am serious. Drop it.” He snaps at you with an angry frown.

Accepting his request, you decide to drop it. 

With nervous hands, you glance down at the metro floor and wait in silence to arrive at your destination. 

Ten uncomfortable minutes later, you both arrive at the subway station that is close to your apartment.

Unlocking the door with your key, you enter inside and wait for him.

The blonde hesitates for a few seconds, glancing down the hallway nervously before deciding that you’re not a threat, and enters as well.

Gently closing the door, you urge him to follow you into your bathroom where your medical kit lies underneath the sink.

You direct him to sit on the edge of the bathtub and he complies without question.

“I need to see your wound properly in order to clean it up.” You tell him while putting on medical gloves and setting the necessary materials like the stitching materials, disinfectant wipes, and fluid, and scissors. 

He winces while rolling up his sleeve to present you with his injury. 

You start by taking a wet washcloth and gently dabbing it around the area, quietly apologizing whenever he hisses and flinches away from the touch.

As you are now able to see the injury better, you see that it’s actually a bullet wound, hence the bleeding was so heavy.

Shocked that he has this kind of injury, you remember that he doesn’t want to talk about how he got it. 

“Lift your arm please, I need to know if the bullet is still in the muscle tissue.“

He gives you an incredulous look since lifting his arm would only worsen his pain. Nonetheless, he complies.

Quickly looking around his arm you don’t see an exit wound, closing your eyes in pity for the stranger, you know what you are going to say next, definitely won’t be easy.

“Let me guess. That thing is still in there.” He looks to the ceiling of your bathroom with a tight smile.

“U-Uhm yes. I told you to go to a hospital. It needs to be surgically removed. I really recommend it Mr….”, you drift off as you don’t recall knowing his name.

He looks at you and realizes he’s never introduced himself to you properly. 

“Name’s Atsumu Miya, ya can call me Atsumu.” 

Later on, Atsumu enters the familiar door of the headquarters of the ‘Fox Den’ and lets out a heavy sigh.

The pent-up frustration from the fight with Karasuno, the pain, and the treatment that he had to bite through with you is making his body insanely tired from exhaustion. 

Nonetheless, he needs to give a report to his boss, the leader of the Inarizaki gang of Hyogo. 

Atsumu walks down the hallway that has multiple doors connected to it and since it’s awfully quiet, Atsumu guesses that most members are either asleep or away on missions.

Entering the lift at the end of the hallway, he presses the ‘5’ button for the conference rooms and where also the office of his boss. 

Swinging back and forth on his heels, Atsumu waits until the elevator stops and continues his path to the room of the leader of Inarizaki.

Once he arrives at his destination, he knocks first, before entering.

“Hey Kita, 'm back from the mission." The blonde says when he steps into the office.

A man who has silver hair with black tips in it, is sitting at the desk and he briefly looks up from his laptop with a stoic face, before looking down again, continuing to type something down. 

Ignoring the warm greeting of his boss, Atsumu plops down on one of the chairs in front of the desk and puts his arms behind his head to stretch.

Unfortunately, he completely forgot about the injury on his arm, immediately putting the injured arm down again with a winced hiss. 

The head of the gang looks at his trusted friend before a slight frown of concern decorates his face. 

“What happened?“ he asks in a calm voice.

“Oh, you know the usual. Just some fuckers from Karasuno in our territory and one of them fucking shot me.“ Atsumu explains while gently rubbing over his arm, feeling the wrapped bandage from you underneath his jacket. 

His frown deepens at the mention of their rival gang, the Karasuno crows, but listens quietly. 

“Do you need medical attention? Do you want me to send Ginjima or Riseki up?“ He continues to question him.

“Nah, I am good Kita. Got stitched up by this cute girl that I met while I was bleedin‘ out like a pig in a women’s restroom by the train station.“ Atsumu pulls his sleeve to reveal the bandage.

Kita glances at the bandage on his friend‘s arm, a mix between concern and anger but also suspicion haunts his face. 

He slowly gets up from his chair and rounds his table with slow steps, making his way toward the older twin.

The injured man looks at him with curious eyes while raising his eyebrow in confusion.

The silver-haired man stares at one of his most trusted right-hand man with a neutral expression and puts his arms behind his back.

“Tell me more about this mysterious medic girl.“ He demands.

Atsumu grins mischievously at his boss and begins to tell him about his fight to the encounter of meeting you. 

Yawning, you stretched out your exhausted limbs and climbed into your comforting blue soft blankets. The feeling of your head hitting the cushy pillow makes you sigh in bliss. It was a long day, first the rowdy patients, then getting vomited on by a drunk homeless person that almost overdosed, and then there was the injured blonde-haired stranger you met tonight. You’re not going to lie, it was a whole mountain of stupid to just invite a stranger over to your apartment. Anxiously, you remember, that he mentioned he didn’t want to go to the hospital to get patched up because he needs to stay anonymous. 

The only question is…

Why does he need to do that?

Your thoughts are interrupted when your phone vibrates with a message. You curiously pick it up to see what the notification is. 

Eyes widening in shock and also a concern, you glance at your screen.

Unknown number

‘Thank you for taking care of my friend. I would like to repay you some time for your kind service’

[youcan-nolonger-run]

personal assistant

Harry styles x reader

word count: 1,579

Being harry styles personal assistant had its share of ups and downs. y Y/N had been diligently working as Harry's personal assistant since the One Direction era, although she remained relatively unnoticed until his solo career took flight, but it was that unforgettable concert, where Harry's selflessness came through as he made sure everyone was safe and cared for before tending to himself, that captured Y/N's heart.  

But now here she is jumping up and down with excitement because Harry styles, her boss has asked her to go to an award show with him. She had to say yes so, she has spent the last 24 hours getting ready for Tomorow. She was scrolling on her phone looking for the final hair inspiration when all a sudden she hears a knock at the door. When she opens the door standing front of her is a very awkward looking harry.  

“Harry? What are you doing here it’s late, you need rest for tomorrow” y/n stand assigned to let harry through the door  

“Well, I'm kind of sort a maybe nervous about tomorrow” while Harry is saying all of this, he is looking at the ground y/n is shocked if she is being honest. To y/n Harry styles might as well be the best person the planet earth, but she knows not everyone feels that way so she can understand why he might be nervous about tomorrow. 

"You're nervous?" Y/N asks, her voice filled with genuine concern.  

"Harry, you've accomplished so much, and you're incredibly talented. There's no need to be nervous. You're going to shine tomorrow." She says while handing him a drink. He mumbles a thanks as he takes the glass.  

“No, harry I'm serious, okay you have no reason to worry and just remember, that I'm going to be there beside you the whole time” Y/n puts her hand on Harry's shoulder for comfort but soon retracts it feeling like she might have crossed the lines. 

Harry smiles "You being there means the world to me, Y/N," Harry says sincerely.  

"Having your support and knowing you're by my side gives me the confidence I need. Thank you." Harry grabs y/n’s hand back from her lap where she flung it back. As he stares into her eyes letting her know what he is saying is genuine. He takes on last big gulp of his drink and puts it on the table in front of him, reluctantly dropping Y/n’s hand in the process.  

“Anyway, I think I should be going; I need sleep so I can function by tomorrow” as Y/n walks harry to the door she feels a little disappointed that he couldn’t stay but she knew his sleep was important. She gives him a small smile and a wave as he walks out the door. As y/n head to bed herself, her mind races with the thought of Harry soft hand in hers all night long. 

*** 

As y/n looks at herself in the mirror she is actually in love with herself for once, she thinks she looks nice the way the satin green color looks on her skin and how it hugs her perfectly where she wanted. And her hair cooperated with her for once and it looks nice. As she continued to look at herself in she heard a knock at the door she slowly runs to the door opening to find harry.  

She knows it isn’t actually possible but she feels like her heart skipped a beat. Looking at harry in a nice suit and tie his hair looking nice as always, she feels a blush creep up on her cheeks for no reason. 

“Wow, Y/n you look great, that green looks great on you” this made y/n blush even worse 

"Thank you, Harry," Y/N replied, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.  

"That means a lot coming from you." Harry's gaze softened as he looked at her, his eyes filled with an affectionate admiration.  

"You deserve to feel beautiful, Y/N. Inside and out." He said as gives her a small smile and holds out his hands, the same soft hand that held hers last night, the same one that gave her butterflies. 

“You ready” she smiles  

“yes” Harry holds Y/n’s hand the whole way to the car which the blush on her face grow even more she is pretty sure her face could start a fire with how hot she feels now. Harry holds the door open for Y/n to get in, his kindness showing.  

As they both get settled in the car their hand finally breaks and this time Y/n feels a whine almost escpae her throat, she misses the warmth of his hand in hers but it doesn’t return the rest of the car ride or threw the red carpet, which she knew would happen, if the paparazzi saw Harry fucking Styles holding hands with some random nobody it would be on the front of every magazine for months.  

Throughout the night walking around and talking to people Y/n would sneak glances at Harry while he was talking to someone else across the room, she just wants the awards to start so she can be near him again.  

The next time she gives a glance in Harry’s direction he is talking to a very beautiful women maybe the most beautiful she has ever seen, she has a perfect smile and bright eyes you can see through a crowd, Y/n has nothing like that. That’s probably why Harry is over there and not over here with her.  

Just then there was an announcement for everyone to finally get seated. Y/n feels like she doesn’t want to be near Harry anymore, because she can’t compare to the pretty girl, he was talking to moments ago. She starts question why she was even there; was she just arm candy? She wasn’t even that he wasn’t even with her at all till now. Did he just draw a name out of a hat and her name was the one he drew so he had to ask her to come.  

y/n starts to panic maybe everything that happened yesterday at her house or earlier in the car was really in her head and harry was just being his kind self. Wrapped in her she is finally pulled out when she feels a hand on her thigh and Harry lean into her ear 

“You okay, love? You seem uncomfortable” y/n nods with a smile, she can’t let Harry know what is really going on in her head, she doesn’t want to ruin his night.  

“Come with me” she looks up confused as Harry gets up holding out his hand, Y/n looks around for a second, was he really risking his next few months hear about him with some random girl? Harry looks at her and nods his head. Y/n finally grabs his hand and let him guide her threw the table and people to get to a very quiet area covered in little fairy lights. She assumed it was for photos 

“What is this H?” y/n asks still looking around 

“it’s a little hideaway from all the noise and people” he sits down against the wall dragging y/n with him. When she hits the ground Harry looks at her even though she isn’t looking at him.  

“y/n?” She finally turned to look at him, a small smile on her lips, she needed this, and he knew she did too.   

“Yeah?” she knew what he was going to ask, the look of concern is still on his face from earlier 

“What is wrong? And don’t bullshit me and say nothing okay? I know something is wrong” the fact that harry was so observant of y/n made a blush grow back onto her cheeks. She had to tell him the truth, the look he was giving her right now is so strong that even a puppy would give in. 

“I'm not as pretty as that girl you were talking to earlier and then I just wondered why you decided to bring me of all people and yesterday and in the car... I-I thought we shared a moment... I know it’s silly but it just made me upset.” y/n looks away too scared of Harry’s reaction  

“y/n, you are more than pretty, you are so captivating, everytime I see you I can’t stop staring, and it’s not silly to feel hurt” Harry grabs y/n chin and gently turns it to face him 

“And as for us sharing a moment well” suddenly Harry kisses Y/n it was quick but it still stunned y/n, the world around them fades away as their lips meet, Y/N's initial surprise quickly gives way relief. They pull apart, their eyes searching each other's faces, still processing the weight of that shared moment.  

"I've wanted to do that for a while," Harry admits, one of his hands in her hair the other on her cheek  

"I couldn't let your doubts overshadow how much you mean to me." With those words y/n melts putting her head on Harry’s shoulder. They lay there for a while until harry feels a tear fall onto his jacket  

“what's wrong, love?” Y/n shakes her head 

“Nothing, I just can’t believe that this is happening I mean if that’s what you want of course” harry lets out a little laugh  

“This is exactly what I want love now come on let me take my girlfriend home” girlfriend y/n could get used to this.

[maple-the-awesome]

It's Over? ||

Pairing: (any) Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 3,728

Overview: (Loosely based on this) After overhearing your conversation on the phone, Peter begins to worry about the status of your relationship and a miscommunication over text only makes matters worse.

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Peter Parker's such a terrible boyfriend.

...Okay, so maybe you've never said that to his face, but he's convinced it's true and he's also certain you agree. He's been a massive idiot lately which is a realization that makes him sick with worry and rotten with guilt.

Peter feels no hesitation with his feelings towards you and has always put effort into proving it: he gets you hand picked flowers collected during his patrols, writes loving messages for you with webs outside your window, and even texts you pictures of sunsets from the best views in New York, wishing you could be there in person with him because he absolutely treasures you, counting himself lucky every single day solely because of the fact that he can call himself your boyfriend.

Unfortunately, he fears that the title might change here soon because no matter how boundless his love is for you, he's done a real shitty job of showing it - at least in the ways that really count the most.

Originally, Peter didn't notice the flaws to your relationship and even when he did, he foolishly brushed them off. Once your smile began to fade little by little each time he returned home wounded, he reminded you that you don't need to stay up waiting for him every night and can go to sleep earlier if you're just going to be tired and annoyed with him when he gets home. He didn't mean to word it so harshly. He was worn out himself and didn't take the time to consider that you wait all night because you're worried about him.

Your complaints about him returning from work without getting any groceries would simply be met with new promises to do so after patrol. If there was no food in the fridge for dinner, then he suggested ordering take out. As a man who could easily survive months on Top Ramen alone, he didn't think you'd mind Chinese food two days in a row.

Even when you'd beg him to stay home for a date night because you haven't had one in weeks, he'd push you away, insisting he needs to protect New York without once stopping to wonder how his priorities might translate in your mind: 'I need to protect a city of strangers as I do every single night, so no, I can't spare a few hours for my girlfriend'.

Throughout every sigh to part your lips, Peter turned a blind eye to it all. Sure, the two of you argue, but all couples do, right? He still loves you and you love him, it's just...a little rough dating a superhero is all, however you'll both get through it together, he was so sure - and that's the key word: Peter 'was' sure, but after your fight today and the self-reflection he's done since, he's not too confident anymore.

It seemed so minuscule this morning. He was eating a bowl of cereal when he heard you huff from the other room. Upon investigating, he found you holding a red and blue shirt in hand, frustration written all over your face. It was your favorite shirt and it definitely wasn't supposed to be that color. Of course, the reason for its unplanned dye job wasn't difficult to guess.

Peter apologized while explaining he was really tired the night before and must've thrown his suit into the wash without checking the other items first; an "honest mistake" he called it with a shrug. Once again, you huffed, throwing the shirt back into the hamper in clear defeat which only made him press further about your suddenly foul mood. From there, the situation only escalated into raised voices ending in you slamming the door directly in his face when he tried to follow you into the bedroom.

Looking back on it now, Peter realizes his apology came off as halfhearted as he merely continued to stuff another spoonful of cereal in his mouth in between sentences and he probably should've stayed at that locked door to give you a proper apology, yet regrettable that's not how it played out. Instead, he purposely sighed as loudly as he could, asking why you "act so bitchy anymore" before stomping off...Not the greatest way to resolve an argument.

Unfortunately, Peter can't say that was the first fight he's merely walked away from with you. You would think Spiderman would know better, but alas, he's an idiot. In his own immature mind, he didn't see anything wrong or unhealthy with this strategy of simply dropping 'unfavorable conversations', after all, it seemed he had a fifty-fifty chance of you either getting angrier or never bringing the topic up again, the latter of which has been occurring more frequently lately. It wasn't until this morning that he realized just because you don't bring it up again, doesn't mean it isn't still hurting you.

When Peter went back up to the bedroom door, prepared to tell you he'd be leaving for work soon, he heart shattered upon hearing your silent sobs from inside. You were crying because of him. Your tears have always been his weakness, but it was in that moment that he learned there's something else that can deal even more damage to his sorrow and that's the broken words you sniffled to presumably MJ on the phone:

"I-I just can't do this anymore! It doesn't matter what I do! I've tried to not be clingy. I've tried to give him space and let him do his thing, but he never comes back to me! I don't even remember the last time we've gone on a date. It's always New York this, Daily Bugle that. Hell, he volunteered to work a few extra hours the other day yet can't be bothered to stay home just to eat dinner at the table with me! It's like I'm last to everything else in his life even when I put him first in mine!"

The thought of your relationship ending turns Peter's nerves to mush. How could he be so stupid? So ignorant? Such an asshole when he has the perfect girlfriend who has kept putting up with his bullshit for all this time? You don't ask for much in return; you never have. You ask him to help with small chores in your shared apartment. You request that he texts you regularly throughout the night not because you need attention, but because you need to know he's safe. You want date nights every once in a blue moon because he's your boyfriend, goddammit! What's the point of saying you're dating if he feels more like a lazy roommate than an equal lover?

You're slipping right through his fingers and he has no one to blame except himself. He knows that now and he's been spending the entire day thinking about it along with some way to apologize properly.

Part of him wishes he would've just pulled himself together and done something right then, bursting into the room with the promise that he can change - that he will change. Hell, he'd burn his suit in front of you if it means you'll give him another chance - if you'll believe for a second that the relationship is worth saving...But alas, he couldn't bring himself to interrupted your call, feeling it would only betray your trust if you knew he had been listening to a private conversation.

Instead, Peter sat like a statue on the couch, waiting not so patiently for you to leave the room on your own accord. When you did, he leaped up only for you to walk directly past him while sternly reminding him you have work. Of course you had work and, no matter how far he followed you through the apartment, begging you to listen to him for even just a minute, you wouldn't so much as glance his way...The karma he deserves.

While you may not have given him any time to explain himself this morning, hope is not completely lost. Shortly after your departure, Peter came to the realization that his nerves will last all day if he doesn't do something about your earlier argument, thus he decided to text you:

Your final text hadn't come until ten minutes after his, but at least he has a chance to plead his case which he doesn't plan on letting go to waste. He's practiced his apology about a hundred times each hour, engraving the thought-out speech in the deepest corners of his mind despite none of it sounding quite right. Of course none of it sounds right! You sounded so convinced on your phone call - like your mind is already made up on ending the relationship. What if you can't be swayed? What if you don't love him anymore? It did take you ten minutes to text those words back. Maybe you weren't even wanting to say them to spare you both the extra pain at noon.

It may seem hopeless, as Peter worries, however he refuses to give up. Too tense at home, he took to swinging around New York while sometimes reciting his speech aloud. He's tried his best to predict any possible response you may have so that a counter argument can be prepared. He wants to show you that he means this - that he's confident in his ability to fix your crumbling relationship. He's even picked up a nice bouquet of flowers at the corner store, ignoring the weird looks the florists gave as Spiderman dropped from the sky just to nervously request the best flowers to avoid a break up.

Needless to say, Peter's heart nearly jumps out of his chest when his phone alarm finally rings at noon. By this time, he's already sitting on the rooftop of your workplace, waiting nervously for your call while reviewing everything he's prepared in the meantime.

Bad boyfriend or not, Peter still knows you. He knows you find the break room too crowded, so you prefer to grab your lunch and take it back to your desk to eat. That's when you'll likely call him. The plan is then for him to pour his heart out into his speech before hanging upside down outside your office window with the flowers. Sappy, yes, but it's the best a desperate wreck like Peter Parker can think of!

His focus is glued to his phone screen while waiting, only shattered by the sound of sirens nearby. Lifting his head, Peter's heart drops at the sight of several cop cars racing down the street to a location he's learned all too well throughout his time as Spiderman: the damn bank. Of course, someone has to rob the bank now! Crime has been quiet all day, but the one time Peter needs it to be so, it decides to be blaring loud instead!

He curses under his breath when standing only for his ringer to be the new sound in his ears. You're calling now! You're calling and there's a bank robbery a few blocks down! Why does the universe hate Peter like this?

"Hello -"

"- Hey, (Y/n)...Sweetheart - Listen, I'm, um," he bites his lip, watching a few more cop cars zoom by in the company of a firetruck," I am so sorry, but I'm gonna have to call you back, okay? There's a robbery at the bank and I -...I promise I'm going to call you back before your break is over. I promise."

You don't respond too quickly much to Peter's concern - as if you already know to start weighing the worth of his promises. When you finally sigh, you sound just as tired as this morning, "...Sure, alright. Just...be safe, Peter, okay?"

"I know, I will be! I promise I'm going to call you right back so just hold tight!" Swinging into the air, Peter holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder, soon removing it with his hand but pausing to say before hanging up: "Have a good lunch, I love you!"

"...I love you, too..." Another delayed response, one Peter barely hears before pressing the little red button on the bottom of his screen.

He's dealt with lots of bank robberies before. He can make this quick. Swing in, keep the sass to a minimum, web up the badies, save the hostages, and return your call with plenty of time remaining for your break. It'll definitely work out that way, no sweat!

It didn't work out that way...No, of course it didn't, this is the life of Peter Parker; a man the universe just seems to hate most of the time. Forty two minutes; that's how long it took to deal with the whole fiasco at the bank. The robbers were armed with homemade weapons each packing a punch which are already annoying to deal with on their own, but sided with the worry of hostages and his already stressful day, the fight wasn't as easy as Spiderman had planned.

Nevertheless, no matter what the universe decides to throw his way, he has gotten good at recovering. Yet again, the bad guys were defeated and left webbed up for the police, however Spiderman had no time to deliver a clever pun before his exit. Instead, he disappears the second the threat is gone, his phone already in hand as he prepares to face another:

"Shit, shit, shit!" Peter curses, pacing across the rooftop he lands on while frantically texting you back:

Swinging a bit further, Peter begins his way towards your work with his phone balanced against his ear. He mumbles desperate pleas under his breath as he listens to the seemingly endless ringing before, to his relief, your voice finally picks up on the other side:

"Yeah?"

"Oh thank god! I didn't mean it's over as in 'I'm over with you and our relationship', but over as in 'I got the robbers'. I'd never break up with you especially over text, I swear - Listen, I really need to talk to you, but in person. Are you still at work?"

"Whatever it is, can't you just tell me now? I have that meeting in like ten minutes."

"No, I need to tell you in person. I need - I have to make sure that we're okay...I want us to be okay..." He's nearly in tears which is obvious to you by the sound of his voice.

"What are you talking about?"

"I really don't want you to break up with me. I know I've been a terrible boyfriend lately and I know I've made you feel like shit so I probably deserve to be dumped, but I swear I never meant to and I want to fix everything - I will fix everything, I swear! You're the most important person in my life - okay, maybe second to May because she's my aunt, but compared to everyone else! I love you more than Spiderman or the Daily Bugle or - or even those super good sandwiches at the corner deli!"

"Peter -"

"- My point is I can do so much better! I'll start doing all the chores, I'll take more days off from the Daily Bugle and I'll even stop being Spiderman if it means you'll be happy with me, I promise! Just please give me one more chance -!"

"- Peter, hold on!" He instantly shuts his mouth under the strictness in your voice. You hesitate on the other end before a sigh can be heard, "...How quickly can you be here?"

"Give me two minutes tops!"

"...Alright. Meet me on the rooftop - and don't be late. My manager's already an asshole as it is, so I can't be late to this meeting."

The sound of Peter landing on the roof causes you to turn around, yet you have no time to say anything before he's running towards you with his mask already crinkled in his hand as well as a few measly roses with broken stems in the other, "(Y/n), I’m sorry. I promise I’m sorry.”

“Peter, your face…” Perhaps it’s just instincts and routine at this point, but the first thing you notice is the nasty bruise already forming under his eye, not that he’s the slightest bit concerned about that, in fact he doesn’t even acknowledge your comment.

“Please give me another chance. I’ll fix everything!” When Peter officially reaches your side, he moves to hug you - desperately wanting to do so, however he stops himself with his hands on your arms, having no more confidence to push his luck. You could shove him away at any moment, after all, “Like I said, I’ll do the chores, I’ll go on as many dates as you want, and I’ll stop being Spiderman even -”

“- You wouldn’t stop being Spiderman. You’d never stop being Spiderman,” contrary to his expectations, rather than being angry, you run a hand through his hair, your voice a soft whisper, “You love being Spiderman too much, Peter.”

He bites his lip and bows his head in shame. You’re right. He doesn’t want to stop being Spiderman, but…

“...But I love you more…”

“...Peter,” your heart swoons. Brushing his bangs away from his face, you tilt your head to get a good look at him, “I know you love me and I love you, too. That’s why I could never ask you to give up something as important to you as Spiderman.”

“I thought…” He trails off.

“You thought what?”

He glances at you quickly before directing his eyes away, “...I thought you were mad at me because of Spiderman? Because I spend too much time working - that’s why you want to break up with me, right?”

You blink in surprise, “Huh? Why would you think I want to break up with you?”

“I accidentally overheard you talking on the phone,” now it’s your turn to look away in shame, “You said you couldn’t do this anymore…That you were pretty much fed up with me which you have every right to be. I’ve been a terrible boyfriend lately -”

“- You’re not a terrible boyfriend -”

“- I am, though!” Peter cries, “It’s like you said! I leave you second to everything else - I don’t mean to, but I made you feel like you’re not as important to me when you really are. You’ve always been important to me, yet I’ve been ignoring your feelings and I pushed you to the ledge -”

“- Peter Parker,” you move your hands to his cheeks, moving him gently to look at you as you speak quietly yet sternly, “...You’re right. You haven’t been the most ‘attentive’ lately and yes, it really hurts to be tossed aside compared to everything else. I know deep down that you don’t mean it and I know you love me. I love you too - sooo much which is why I really don’t want to break up…It’s just…Something needs to change.

“That call you heard - I was only ranting if anything because honestly, I haven’t felt like I’ve had anyone to talk to lately,” you squeeze your eyes shut, blinking back the tears, “I’ve been so worn out with it all. Work’s been crazy lately with my manager constantly up my ass for reports and then when I go home wanting nothing more than to spend time with the one person who makes all that stress go away, you aren’t there. I’ve…I can’t keep that up.

“...What’s important right now is that we both realize that. I don’t want you to give up being Spiderman, but you could take a night off once in a while, right? There’s like a zillion superheroes in this city, after all. Make the Avengers handle it or - I don’t know, that devil dude. Take a break not just for my sake, but yours, too” you let your hands fall down to Peter’s, holding onto them with a sigh, “...You’re not the only one who needs to change, though. This is partly my fault, too -”

“- It isn’t your fault. Why would it be your fault?” Peter interrupts with concern, yet you shake your head.

“I should’ve communicated to you that I was upset. I should’ve made sure you actually understood how I was feeling instead of just assuming or expecting it. Clearly, you care about us as much as I do and you want to make fixes now that you’re aware of the problems. If I just would’ve said something sooner, it wouldn’t have had to get to this point. It isn’t fair for either of us to suffer without the other’s knowledge nor is it healthy. We shouldn’t have to get pushed to the ledge or worry about a break up before ever once sitting down to actually talk about our concerns like grown ups…That’s what we’re supposed to be now, right?”

“I think so, although it’s not that easy, is it?” Peter mumbles then throws his head back dramatically with a groan, “Ah, May and Ben made it look sooo easy!’

You chuckle, resting your forehead against him, “I’m sure they had moments like this…We just have to learn, is all.”

For what feels like the first time today, Peter smiles and breathes his relief, “How about this: I’ll promise to start spending more time with you and doing more chores around the apartment if you promise to start telling me when you’re upset. Even if it’s something that seems totally stupid, okay? I won’t walk away anymore. I’ll sit and listen and if I don’t, you have my permission to call May on me.”

“It’s a promise,” you press your smile against his for what you intend to be a quick peck, however his arms finally wrap around your waist, pulling you closer into a longer kiss he’s been dying for all day.

“I love you,” he whispers once pulling away.

“I love you, too,” and there’s no hesitation or delay to your response this time.

[merakiui]

Mera how have ya been lately? (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

I hope you're doing fine!

The ghost bride cards got me feeling some typa way tbh. All of those men fighting to be the groom, imagine if that's how the apocalypse au was like, except darling is the leader/esteemed personnel. Each of them fighting for darling's attention!

Anyways, as always, thank you for feeding us with yummy meals and content.

Xoxo ~ Izuna

Omg maybe darling is the leader of the Ramshackle Compound!!!!! The compound was originally abandoned (of life) until you and Grim discovered it, and with the help of the ghosts inhabiting it you were able to turn it into something livable and secure! Not many know of its existence until, unfortunately, the intelligence branch of Ignihyde catches drone footage of you coming and going. And someone ends up leaking it to the other compounds and now everyone wants to unify Ramshackle with their respective compound. Most of all, they wish to meet the elusive compound leader who seems to be so good at fending for themself. :)

Riddle isn’t opposed to a marriage with you. After all, that’s how many traditional unions happen. Kingdoms of yore have done it, and Riddle is dedicated to following tradition down to every detail, however minuscule. He’s rather impressed you managed to survive on your own. That’s a commendable feat. Once he weds you, you won’t have to worry about struggling to get by. You’ll have access to all of Heartslabyul’s resources. No more hunting for food yourself! You’re under Riddle’s rule now, and that’s arguably worse than living in isolation with Grim and a few ghosts.

Leona’s also impressed, which is something the average person can’t accomplish easily. He’ll want to meet you promptly, if only to see if the rumors surrounding you are true. Are you really a strong, capable fighter? Or is that just some nonsense story made up to make others think you’re some untouchable, fearsome herbivore? Although the more impatient he becomes, the more he takes a liking to keeping you within Savanaclaw’s compound. Your reputation is interesting enough; now hopefully it’s the same for you as a person.

Azul’s frustrated and overwhelmingly envious. Had he known about an empty compound, he could’ve expanded his influence! He’s already built up such an impressive stronghold both on the land and in the sea, but he’s always been so ambitiously avaricious. He wants what you have, but most of all he wants you. You’re a cutthroat thing, always so determined to survive. And you’re taking care of your strange…pet? He’s not sure what Grim is, but he’ll know soon once Jade and Floyd capture the both of you. He’s willing to go about this peacefully; he’ll nudge you into a contractual marriage. It’s the smart thing to do in these trying times. <3

Kalim’s excited to know someone new exists out there. He wants to meet you and become your friend. He doesn’t even consider the fact that you could be dangerous or infected. He’s just curious and wants to welcome a new friend! When he learns it’s only you in the compound, he feels so sad. :( you’re all alone in there. Doesn’t it get lonely? You must come to Scarabia! He’ll make sure you’re never lonely. :D

Vil has always considered the possibility that there are more out there, and to think it was proven correct with your existence is somewhat of a relief. Even if it’s only one person, that’s one more added to a dwindling population count. Somehow it’s more bleak that way, but Vil won’t allow himself to become stressed or saddened. There is no debate to be had; he will meet you, and if he determines you useful and safe enough you shall become his. He has lots of strict criteria for his evaluation of you, but from footage alone he’s seen you’re quite capable on your own. At the very least, you know how to wield a weapon, so Rook won’t have to instruct you in that area. Although your hand-to-hand combat is lacking… You could use a few lessons. Luckily, you’ll get that and much more when he welcomes you into Pomefiore.

Idia hates his life, but most of all he hates the loser who leaked that footage. This was supposed to be his big discovery! He was going to keep it a secret and everything, if only so the other compounds will keep their slimy, greedy paws off of his stuff. >:( Idia only wants your compound so he can use the empty rooms for his hobbies. It would be fun to have another larger space for gaming. He could furnish it to his liking and use it as a second getaway when he wants to escape all of his responsibilities at his compound. It was the perfect plan! So Idia makes it a mission to get to you before anyone else can, and with high-tech on his side it’s entirely plausible. :)

It’s a wonder the footage made it to Diasomnia, but Lilia has his way of keeping himself informed. He advises Malleus of this new development to see where the fae prince stands on the matter. Malleus takes a liking to you right away because he sympathizes with your being alone. If possible (and it is; anything’s possible when you’re one of the most powerful mages in the land), he’d like to meet you and see if an alliance of some sort can be formed. Of course from a logical standpoint, it makes sense. Two compounds are better than one: resources, information, and manpower can double and be shared between the two. But then Malleus isn’t thinking that way. He’s thinking of how nice it would be to give you the gift of companionship when he extends a gracious proposal to you. Hopefully you’ll agree. Secretly, he’d like to be close to you and learn all there is about the mysterious human and their animal companion braving the horrors of a ruined world.