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#just will not be telling anyone about it until it's over
yanderenightmare · 2 days
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TW: angst, toxic traits, somewhat bullying, breakup
fem reader
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You’re his first girlfriend. He’d never bothered with anything serious before—it seemed too messy to trifle with. He doesn’t know why he suddenly decided. Suppose he’d been feeling a little bored, and something within him saw you as a fool-proof opportunity.
It wasn’t because you were anything special. Actually, it was more the opposite. You didn’t seem like too big of a risk. You were just a normal, honest, nice person—a bit of a loser, too, if he was being honest. He could do a lot better and pick someone of the same caliber as him, someone with a cooler style and presence, but then he’d only get caught up in the competition.
You were more to his appetite—a dorky, blushy lil’ nerd who giggled nervously at everything he said. In other words, no competition at all. You’d never dare break his heart because you frankly couldn’t afford it. And he found solace in that imbalance—knowing he held all the cards and that you could only be grateful he’d chosen you.
At least, that had been what he’d thought. But then, here you are, holding his hands from across the table in a cute little sundae café, telling him how this just can’t work anymore.
He’s confused for a whole minute before it sinks in.
You’re breaking up with him.
He’s confused afterward, too.
You’re breaking up with him?
That can’t be right. You must be joking. He almost laughs, almost cackles, but ends up staying completely silent. Something about that pitiful look in your eye makes his throat tight, and he almost thinks he’s going to cry instead. 
You’re breaking up with him. You, with him. His foot starts to tap. Have you hit your head or something? You’re dressed in a hoodie, for crying out loud, with not an ounce of make-up on—effortless, as if his perception of you wasn’t any of your concern while you’re fucking breaking up with him.
No way. There’s just no way. You must be confused about something, is all. There’s absolutely no way you’re doing this.
“What are you talking about?” It comes angry. Louder than he’d intended, enough to make you jolt in your seat. A couple of heads even turn your way. You wait for them to turn back before answering.
“I just think we’re a bit too different. And… I don’t know…” You were trying to find ways of telling him you weren’t in love with him but ended up deciding it was unnecessary—it wasn’t exactly something he needed to hear even though you had a lot you could say.
You’re rude and arrogant and treat me like some rescue pet you’ve nurtured back to health. You act like you’re embarrassed to be with me even though you’re the one without any friends. You’re selfish and spoiled and—
“If you don’t know, then there’s nothing to talk about. Quit being silly.” He has a furrow between his brows as he picks up the pink menu between the two of you, scanning the different types of milkshakes you could share and forget all about it. After all, you weren’t breaking up with him—that would just be absurd. “Let’s get strawberry.”
“No—”
“Guess we could get mango if you want that instead—”
“I’m not sharing drinks with you—”
“What? You tryna lose weight or something? Not like anyone but me is gonna see you when all you wear are those baggy hoodies all the time. Speaking of which, you should wear mine instead, they’d suit you better—”
“Listen.” You stop his rambling. “I’m not sharing drinks, and I’m not wearing your clothes. I’m not being silly, either. I’m being serious. It’s over—”
“No, it’s not.” His fist bangs against the table—the look in his eye on edge and twitchy. “I asked you why, and you had no good reason—so it’s not, not until you convince me.”
You had wanted to avoid it, but it seems he wouldn’t allow you the grace to spare him. That being said, you hadn’t meant to be so brutally honest…
“You’re a narcissist. You don’t treat me like a girlfriend. I’m more like a charity case or some type of experiment to you. Half the time, it feels as though you’re just playing a game with everyone in your life like pawns for you to shuffle around the board as you see fit.” You’re the one with the furrowed brows now, unable to bite your tongue as you’d kept it in all this time. “I think you should seek help and get your controlling tendencies straightened out before having any type of relationship. Or don’t. In any case, I don’t think I’m the right girl for you.”
There’s a silence. The chatter of the café seems distant. You feel half inclined to apologize as you look at him and stare down the glassy tabletop as if trying to find his reflection for comfort—but then he beats you to the punch.
“You’re right…” he starts softly, mustering the words, and you’re almost proud to see him take it so well, but then there’s a viscousness to his next words. “You’re not the right girl for me.”
When he looks up again, his face is warped—callous and seemingly disgusted by the sight of you. Something about it even seems to lash out at you, seeking revenge.
“I can’t believe I thought I saw something in you,” he sighs. “Turns out you’re exactly what everyone warned me you would be—just a plane-boring old Jane. What a joke—wasting so much time on something so worthless. Forget breaking up with me, I should have broken up with you a long time ago.”
He gets up in a rush and bears over the table, both palms laid flat upon the surface.
“Charity case?” he seethes, then conjures a fake laugh and an even faker grin. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Enjoy sitting here alone like the loser you are.”
And even though you’re the one watching him walk away while ordering a chocolate sundae for yourself, you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy… 
That had been the most emotion you’d ever witnessed come from him.
Obviously, he doesn’t take it very well, stumbling through the café before bursting out the door, but even he’s surprised by how disheveled it had made him. He’s hyperventilating when the fresh air hits him, almost sprinting to his car so that he can lock himself inside it.
But the car only makes it worse as he’s far from alone in there. You’re everywhere. On the hood, waiting for him with a smile. In the rearview mirror, waving at him. In the seat next to him with a pout, asking if you can stay over. In the backseat, naked with a coy twinkle in your eye.
He knows! He has some of your underwear at home—he’ll threaten to pass them around campus unless you beg him to take you back. No, what’s he thinking!? You’ll never come back to him that way. Fuck, what can he do, what’s he supposed to do!? He just called you worthless—what that fuck was he thinking?!
The tears startle him as they drip down and splash upon his whitening knuckles, where he grips the wheel for dear life even as the car stays completely still—safe and sound in the same plot.
There’s a light pink lip balm on the dash. Yours. You must have left it there—maybe on purpose? No… you don’t play games like that. You’d been honest in the café. The fact terrifies him—his heart seems to want to reject it at all costs, the way it tears in his chest.
He picks the slim pink stick up and rolls it around in his hand, which can’t seem to stop shaking. You’d sat on his lap in this very seat, laughing at something dumb he’d said while applying the very same balm on his lip—kissing his forehead while saying something sweet. He knows it wasn’t, but he imagines you’d whispered that you loved him.
When he smears the balm around his lips this time, he imagines kissing you and your soft lips and that everpresent smile he never bothered telling you was pretty.
He’s such an idiot. The birds in the parking lot take flight at the jostling of his car, but no one hears the roar.
And as he sits there in the following silence, wallowing in his own self-pity and regret, he can’t help but feel like the lead of some angsty teen romance.
And like the lead in an angsty teen romance, he swears… whatever it takes… he will win you back.
You will be his again.
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BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks
JJK – Gojo, Naoya, some young type of Sukuna or Toji
HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins
BLLK – Reo
AOT – Eren
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Found this while going through my fanfic files, and i absolutely had to share.
Danny: i want in
Red robin: …what?
Danny: your bat family. I want in.
Red robin, blinking in surprise: i dont know what you think you know about my associates, but we're not-
Danny: dont be obtuse. I know youre the smart one. And i also know that your all one big relatively happy family. I want in.
Red robin: …why?
Danny: because you guys are the first people ive found that are wealthy, intelligent and powerful enough to take on my fruitloop godfather and win AND are decent enough human beings that i can be assured that when all is said and done, my well-being will remain a top priority.
Orphan, appearing out of nowhere: new brother!
Danny: *stares in shock*
Danny: *sudden uncanny grin* well that's one convinced. How do i win over the rest?
Orphan: no need. New brother!
Red robin: *pointed glance of betrayal* fine. Who is your godfather?
Danny: vlad masters. He's a fruitloop.
Red robin: for real? B's been investigating him for years! Tell me everything! *genuinely excited for a new lead*
Danny: well, he's tried to murder my dad and marry my mom, gained his wealth illegally, committed voting fraud to become the mayor of my hometown, has a secret underground lab where he does unethical experiments, and he's abducted me more than a dozen times even before my parents disowned me to make me his evil apprentice or whatever. Now that im homeless, he's literally out to get me. Oh! And he's cloned me too! She's cool though, we're buddies now.
Batman, who just arrived but heard everything over comms: hn. (Translation: who are you?)
Danny: my name is Danny. No last name anymore, but im hoping itll soon be Wayne! *winking suggestively*
Batman: hn? (how much do you know?)
Danny: enough to know that youre a much better alternative to vlad.
Batman: …hn (i dont know anything about you. What if youre a spy for vlad?)
Danny, giving his salesman pitch: i was a teen vigilante in amity park before i had to run away from home for my own safety. Vlad is one of my rogues. I know how to fight and defend myself, how to minimize collateral damage in a fight, and ive gotten really good and escaping kidnapping attempts. Ive also managed to reform and/or make allies out of approximately half of my rogues and can talk down about 30% of all rogue confrontations before they turn into a messy fight. The other things i can bring to the table are: one, i can teach all of you guys proper liminality self care; two, i can probably minimize and possibly cure red hood's anger issues; three, i can get along with stabby robin because i consider fighting a friendly social interaction - he can even stab me and i wont be injured by it; four, i can be your go-to guy for supernatural cases so you no longer have to deal with that sad trenchcoat man; five-
Red robin: *blurting* youre hired.
Batman: hn (i am deeply concerned)
Danny: if youre concerned now, wait until i tell you about the anti ecto control act
Nightwing, who showed up in the middle of the sales pitch: ive never seen anyone crack B's grunt language so quickly
Danny: grunt language? He's just using ghost speak - which will be covered by the liminality self care lessons
Robin, who arrived with batman: what is a liminal?
Danny: all of you, of course! Otherwise you wouldnt need to learn about it, obviously
Robin: and why would we trust you?
Danny: did i mention i have a pet ghost dog?
Robin: …you drive a hard bargain
Danny, fist pumping: yes! That's three!
Nightwing: four, you got me when you could understand B's grunting
Red Hood, arrived with nightwing: five, assuming you arent lying about the pit rage
Danny, hand to his chest: i would never!
Orphan: honesty. Earnest. New brother.
Oracle, over comms: six. The anti ecto acts are legit and im terrified for his safety, assuming he's phantom, who is the vigilante of amity park
Spoiler, arrived with orphan: seven, as long as youre down for a few pranks
Batman: hn (ive been outvoted)
Batman: hnn (i dont wanna hear any jokes about adoption habits when you all forced my hand)
Batman: hn (that said)
Batman: welcome to the family
Duke, the next day: man, i miss out on everything exciting.
Duke, blinded by danny: and who the fuck told bruce he could adopt the fucking sun?!
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ceesimz · 2 days
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We're All We Need Today
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Hey, long time no story! I'm back with this, something I had the idea for a long time ago but it was low on my list of favourites. Then I re-jigged it and re-worked it and now it's done! Everybody's favourite trope, or mine at least, angst to fluff. It's been a while since I last posted and I find myself riddled with nerves about posting stories again now, so (and I never do this because I cringe at myself) if you do like this story, please let me know in whatever way suits you because I'm seriously struggling with writer's anxiety right now and I don't have the foggiest idea how to get out of it😅
It should have been just a normal Tuesday. A normal evening on a random day mid-week in May. Training for you both that ended just after lunchtime, before meeting up at Alexia's apartment early evening after the pair of you attended meetings or completed other pieces of work. That all went smoothly, it was perfectly fine.
Alexia shouldn't have looked at your phone without your permission though. She shouldn't have looked at your messages in the first place, nevermind doing it behind your back.
"I cannot believe you told your friends and did not tell me first!" Alexia shouted at you as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, your phone opened onto your friend groupchat in her hand.
"What? Alexia, what are you doing? Are you looking through my phone?" You cried out, marching over to snatch it back, but she holds it in the air out of your reach like a high school bully. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"
"You told your friends without conferring with me first. You went behind my back and you know I didn't want anyone knowing!"
"You've gone behind my back too, looking through my phone! Why did you do that?" You jumped and grabbed your phone, confirming exactly what you thought.
She had gone through your phone whilst you were out the room, had clicked onto a chat with your closest friends who you trusted more than almost everyone in your life, and she had read just one message that said 'What does your weekend look like in sunny Barcelona? Any plans with A?'
"No, no. You aren't flipping this around. You swore to me-" She jabbed her finger harshly against your chest as she spoke. "-that you would not tell anyone until I said you could."
Is she for real right now? Who are you even talking to?
This is not the woman you fell in love with almost seven months ago. This is not the woman who used her captaincy as an excuse to get your number. This is not the woman who asked to be your girlfriend in such a shy and awkward manner as she stumbled over her words whilst eating dinner with you on her sofa. This definitely isn't the woman who cares for you how no one else has, nor is this the woman who loves you infinitely and shows it in ways you never could have thought possible.
This is a selfish, egotistical, self-centred, and downright cold-hearted person you do not recognise. The version of Alexia in front of you here is one you thought you'd never, ever encounter. Yet, look at the situation now.
"So, what, I have to run everything by you? I can't tell my closest friends possibly the biggest detail in my life? I can't tell them I'm in love and happier than ever?"
"No. Not now. We promised we wouldn't tell anyone, and you have betrayed me." Alexia huffed angrily, her hands on her hips as she turned away from you.
"I wanted to share this part of my li- you, with them! And, Ale, you've told Alba and Eli, why can't I tell my friends?" You moved to stand in front of her so you're facing her again, and she fixed you a disapproving glare with a jut to her jaw.
"Friends are different to family - I've never met these people! What are their intentions? I don't know, and I don't want them knowing private facts about me. That is why I'm mad." Alexia gritted her teeth as she spoke, fury swimming through her veins as her hands gripped her own hips so tightly you were sure there'd be bruises the next time she looked.
"What are you even saying? Do you hear yourself right now?" You scoffed, your anger almost tripling when the woman in front of you chuckled.
"Trust me, I hear myself. I also hear you denying everything, denying the fact you've outed our relationship, denying the fact you've broke my trust. Betrayed the one thing I asked you to promise not to do. Maybe you're the one who needs their ears checking, remember when I said 'let's wait some time to tell people.' Maybe you misheard me and thought I said 'how about we tell every fucking person in the city?' So yes, I hear myself. Very clearly, you don't have to worry about that."
You stared, glared, at her for a few moments, gobsmacked at the turn of events whilst also trying not to burst into tears. This is a situation you never thought would occur between you both, and the vile way she spoke to you paired with her foul accusations had you slipping on your shoes and leaving her apartment. And, possibly the worst part of it all? She didn't even try to stop you.
Why was it always about her, about what she wants, always on her terms?
What about your opinion? She didn't care to hear you out, and it sounds like she doesn't give two flying fucks what you've got to say. Alexia Putellas and her dense head coming into play again, only caring about herself and her legacy and what people say about her. You'd think that as someone who, to the public, seems so very secure and content in her position as the best women's player still in the game, that she wouldn't be so worrisome and out-right vile if there was a chance something wasn't going her way.
No, she wasn't like that with you at least, not at all. You hadn't been together long, but the secrecy and, what you inferred now as shame, seeped into your mind and with each step as you walked home that day, you grew more and more, not only utterly infuriated, but overwhelmingly perturbed at the prospect of just... everything.
Perhaps your whole relationship had merely been a fluke. Something Alexia didn't take serious in the slightest, and nowhere near serious enough for you to tell people about it. Maybe, at the end of the day, you were too much for her to deal with, and the only way the Catalan could cope was by keeping you behind closed doors. The theories your mind was coming up made you sick to the pit of your stomach, and it was a miracle that you made it to the bathroom of your apartment by the time you were emptying the contents of your body.
There was some kind of higher power watching over you, because this whole fiasco had occurred when there were two days off afterwards. It was coming up to the tail end of the season, and as the latter half of the month was jam-packed with tense games, you had planned to make the most of the time off. With a few social events scattered across the two days, you had been greatly looking forward to spending time with your teammates outside of the pitch, your friends, and at the time most importantly, Alexia. That all didn't seem enticing anymore, nor did it even seem possible.
For the time being though, as you stumbled your way out of the bathroom and fell into bed, the breakfast catch-ups and evening dinners were the last things on your mind. The only way you wanted to spend your time off, was wallowing in a trench of self-pity.
And that's how you found yourself in the gym of your apartment complex some fourty hours later.
Jab, jab, hook. Jab, jab, hook. Right hook, then a left uppercut, and another right hook to follow.
Punch after punch after punch after punch. There was no stopping you in this mindset. Not with the things your head was chanting, Alexia's words circling endlessly around your mind. They were what fuelled you right now, allowing you to lay into the punching bag before you with no second thought to the consequences.
And those consequences were sure to bring you a lot of pain later, in your hands that weren't wrapped up like they should, nevermind wearing gloves.
There was music playing through the earphones you had in, but for the life of you, you couldn't even register it right now. Your vision was blurred by pure rage, failing to recognise the cuts forming with every unrestrained punch and the bruises beginning to form along the bumps of each knuckle. You had tunnel vision on one thing and one thing only, and that was trying to dispel yourself of the all-consuming anger that had plagued you for almost two days now.
"Amiga! Basta, basta, hey." A soft voice broke through your trance as your earphones were delicately tugged from your ears. "Hey, you hear me?"
As your hands were gently taken ahold of by the figure to your right, you took a deep breath and leaned forward to rest your forehead against the bag. It was now that the woman beside you realised just how poor your breathing was, and she brought one of her hands to rub caringly up and down your back.
"Más despacio, relájate. Tómatelo con calma, vale? Relájate." Her voice soothed you a little, giving you the peace of mind you needed to set your breathing back to normal. "Are you with me?"
At that, you nod and take some more breaths before leaning up and taking in the person beside you. It was Mariona, who you shared the same apartment complex with, a fact you had forgotten about. In this moment, you weren't sure if you were thankful for that fact or if you resented it.
"Yes, with you." You wiped your face on the sleeve of your shirt before properly looking at her.
"Are you okay?" Mariona knew it probably wasn't the wisest thing to say, but for the moment as she collected her thoughts and did an internal assessment of the situation, it was more of a buffer than anything.
"Um, I guess there's no point lying, is there." You state flatly, the Spaniard smiling sadly at you and shaking her head. "Things aren't great... right now, so."
"Okay. That's okay." Mariona's smile was perhaps the brightest thing you'd seen, and with her looking at you the way she was, with so much care and a major lack of judgement, it was hard to reject the help she was soon to offer.
"Will you let me take care of you? I have a first aid kit in my apartment that I can use for these." She gestured down to your bruised and battered hands that were growing more painful by the second. "We can talk if you want, or you can at least let me patch you up and I can call somebody else. It's up to you."
You thought you knew what you wanted, and it wasn't this, but now that the offer is glaringly right in your face, your inner monologue urged you to fall to your knees and beg for assistance, for someone to scoop up all the negativity in your mind and lift the weight of it from your shoulders.
Isolating yourself from everyone, as you had done in the last days, wasn't healthy in the slightest, and rationally you knew the excuses you gave for doing so were completely unwarranted. Yes, you were the newest signing, and yes, Alexia was the captain and the glue of the team. However, that did not lessen your worth, you still deserved your spot on the team and you deserved to be treated with humanity. As Mariona had shown in the span of a few moments, your teammates wouldn't pick sides depending on how long you had and hadn't known people, and they certainly wouldn't treat you any less just because you had fallen out with - foregoing her team title - your girlfriend.
You were only human after all.
"I would appreciate that, thank you, Mariona."
Once more, the forward smiled politely at you and nodded, moving to wait at the door to the gym to wait for you as you collected up your things. Each movement of your hands had you grimacing in discomfort, a fact not lost on Mariona as she took the items, like your water bottle and your jumper, from you just to take the edge off a little.
You weren't too close with Mariona, you had gravitated towards the likes of Ingrid and Fridolina and Aitana when you joined (and Alexia, of course), but at the end of the day she was still your teammate and you often found yourself in a group with her in training since you were also a forward. The 28 year old was a hard-worker, yet she was also one of the most laid-back people you'd ever met, so in her presence it was hard not to allow yourself to relax even just a tiny bit. The aura that radiated off of her was oddly settling, and as you both made your way up to her apartment in relative silence, you were offered your first slice of serenity since that day not too long ago.
"Would you like a shower first? You look like you worked yourself hard in there." Mariona offered as she closed the door of her apartment behind you.
"No, it's okay, thanks." You gave her an awkward, tight-lipped smile, feeling somewhat embarrassed at having been caught in such a vulnerable moment - a moment when you were filled with such rage and negativity, that all you could do was lay into a harmless object like a woman possessed.
"Alright. Sit down at the counter, I will get all I need and be with you in a second."
With a sheepish nod, you complied and sat at the island counter in the kitchen, taking a moment to compose yourself before you knew an emotionally charged conversation was about to take place. You were tempted to take Mariona up on her offer to call somebody else, but honestly you were already exhausted and just wanted to get this whole situation off of your chest.
You'd been lugging it around for days now, encumbered by the weight of anger that, as time went on, was bleeding into exasperation and disconcertion because, in all honesty, you just wanted your girlfriend back. That was a little difficult though, because the woman in question was still being as cold as ever and for the life of you, you couldn't get a good read on her to figure out what her stand was on it all now. Whether she'd confided in Mapi or Irene or her sister or even Mariona, you had no idea, you just hoped there was still an ounce of her that cared for you in just a sliver of the way you did for her.
Though you hadn't seen or heard from her since that evening, her actions and her words were still fresh on your mind, and no matter how much time you spent mentally going through each doing of hers, it all made zero sense. In no way shape or form had Alexia portrayed such viciousness towards you, nor had she ever been so horrible and completely unfair in the time you had known her. Maybe it was a case of only knowing her for a short-ish amount of time, but her behaviour seemed so out of character that it set a feeling of uneasiness in your chest.
Hopefully, bumping into Mariona, someone who had been good friends with Alexia for a long time, would give you some insight into why the Barcelona captain had acted in such ways.
"Here we go. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but it is unfortunately a necessary evil in this case." Mariona purses her lips forgivingly as she pulls out two alcohol wipes that already have you wincing at the thought. "Are you ready?"
"Yep, just get it done with. Please."
You hold your breath as she rips open one of the packets, then you watch on as she takes hold of your left hand first and lightly runs it over and in between each knuckle. It hurts a hell of a lot, sure it does, but with the tenderness that the Spaniard treats you with, all you can focus on is trying not to burst into tears at the kindness you're faced with. Your mind has been anything but towards you, and the last proper human interaction you had that had been longer than a few brief minutes was your intense argument with Alexia. So this moment here was overwhelming, in many more ways than one.
"That's one done, your right hand looks a bit worse. Am I okay to carry on?"
Honestly, why couldn't you have fallen for someone like Mariona, instead of the ignorant, hot-headed woman you were in love with?
"Yeah, it's fine."
The silence between you both is weirdly not unsettling or awkward at all, instead it's relatively comforting and for the first time in days, your skin isn't crawling at the fact you're left alone with nothing but the sound of your endless cycle of thoughts.
The Spaniard standing beside you was correct, your right hand was indeed slightly worse off than your left, and that was only made more clear with each brush of the wipe, clearing away the blood only to show cuts in the divots of your knuckles and bruises covering the entirety of the right end of your hand.
"You have a good punch on you, ever thought about boxing instead of football?" Mariona joked, trying to uplift the heavy atmosphere in the room.
"No, wouldn't want to mess up this face." You replied, the forward laughing quietly and nodding.
"You are right, and football is much more easy to watch."
You supplied her with an agreeing smile, trying to hide your discomfort as she moved your hands around to assess the damage and make a plan of action.
"Okay, I think I will apply some antiseptic cream for your cuts and wrap them up with bandages. Then I will give you an ice pack for each hand, does that sound alright?"
"That's perfect, Mariona, thank you." You smile gratefully at her, and thought it's not a genuine smile, you hope she understands the appreciation you hold for her.
"It is not a problem. We look after each other at Barça, sabes? Anything you need, please do not be afraid of reaching out. To any of us."
And there is her segue into striking up the conversation you'd both danced around since she saw you.
You had to give it to her, she let a few moments pass by so it could come across as a bit less obvious, but nevertheless it happened just as you had expected.
"Are you comfortable talking to me about what happened in the gym?" She took note of the hesitation you greeted that question with, so she put the tube of cream down and faced you fully. "That was a bit concerning to walk in on, and I wouldn't be at peace with myself if I let you out of here without checking in on you."
"I... I guess, yeah." You sighed.
"Thank you. How would you like to start?" Mariona wondered with her ever-present smile, pairing it with a nonchalant shrug, further evidence of her care-free nature that continued to draw you in. "You can start talking about what is on your mind, or I can ask some leading questions to help. I am fine with anything, I just want you to leave here feeling a bit better."
Mariona had asked you a few moments ago if you had ever thought about boxing. Now, you wanted to ask her if she'd ever considered being a psychologist.
"I think it would help if you asked some questions, maybe." You decided, and she nodded instantly. She grabbed the tube of cream again and started applying it at the same time she uttered her first query.
"Do you normally practice on the bag without gloves on?" It was a very light one to start off with, perhaps something to be grateful for, but despite feeling a little calmer now, your mind was still in turmoil and wasn't fully recovered yet.
"No, I always wrap them up. I didn't even plan on using the bag today, it just... I was on the treadmill and then I saw it and wanted to use it. I wasn't really thinking straight, so. Yeah. This is the result of that." You took a sharp breath as the forward smoothed over a particularly bad cut with the antiseptic.
"Mhm. And, forgive me for this one, was it your intention to hurt yourself?"
That one took your breath a little.
"No, no, not at all. It wasn't even a thought in my head, I swear, I only wanted to get my anger out." You responded hastily, trying to convince her that you were relatively okay and that this was just a blip, and you didn't need some kind of intervention.
"Okay, thank you for being honest. I'm very glad to hear that, and I'll take your word for it." After finishing with your current hand, she squeezes it comfortingly and moves onto your other one. "Are you willing to tell me what's wrong? Why you needed to get some anger out?"
"Yeah... yeah, I am. I have to give you some context though, and I'd be really grateful if you kept it between us."
Mariona wasn't a gossip by any sorts, but as a result of the months of Alexia's words drilling into you of how nobody can know about you both, it was still an anxiety you had. Yet, the woman looking after you in such a heart-warming way was quite possibly the good samaritan you needed right now, her acts of kindness a reminder to not lose all hope with the world around you. You were well within your right to freak out in the way you had - not only were you in an entirely new city, learning a language you hadn't paid any mind to since school, but rather naively you had probably depended on Alexia more than you should have.
It was a lesson to be learnt, a mistake you wouldn't make again, though in the future even if you didn't recognise it yet, you'd look back on your time so far and wouldn't even regret it that much. After all, every moment of the past ten months had led you to the love of your life, and nothing was ever completely perfect. You would take a few bumps in the road if it meant you could end the season with a few medals around your neck and the greatest woman you'd ever met on your arm. Sure, you might not think the greatest of her right now, but you would mend it. You were sure you would. Hopefully.
"Of course, I won't tell a soul. You can tell me anything and no one will ever hear a word of it." Mariona reasurred you and though you hadn't really doubted her in the first place, you were still beyond grateful to hear that.
"So, um... Alexia and I have been in a relationship for a few months."
Yet again, Mariona continued to surprise you with how marvelous she was. Or maybe it was just an after effect of how much Alexia's words had got to you, because when the islander simply raised her eyebrows for a millisecond before nodding as you revealed your news, you're shocked at how much of a low-key reaction she gave. Whether she had an incredible poker-face or she just didn't care half as much as Alexia thought people would, your body sagged in relief at that minute response. As far as human beings go, this one right here wasn't too bad at all.
"And, for reasons I still don't understand, she was adamant that we keep it a secret. Like it was some kind of war tactic we had to keep safe. She made it out to be a make or break situation for us. But she told Eli and Alba less than a week after we made it all official, which I didn't think much of. I talked to her about it back then, wondering if it was just something she wanted to keep quiet while we were only in the dating stage, but she told me I still couldn't tell anyone. I guess because I was still relatively new here, with not many close friends and still with the mindset of trying to earn my place in the team, I agreed. Then as time went on I got a bit... annoyed with what Alexia wanted, but whenever I brought it up with her she would immediately shut the conversation down. I figured I could do it slyly, without telling her and without telling anyone any kind of intricate details of our relationship. So I took matters into my own hands."
You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose at this point, knowing it was here in the story where things got quite rocky. Mariona had finished applying the antiseptic at this point and was now getting the bandages ready, prepped with the medi-tape beside her to secure her wrapping. With each new fact you unveiled, she nodded along in understanding, completely on the same page with you. She didn't understand the actions of her friend as of yet, wondering why on earth she'd be so intensely secretive about her relationship to the point of not telling a single soul, but those were thoughts she wouldn't voice yet.
Mariona herself was in a private relationship, and she was happier than ever in it. However, it wasn't a secret. Sure, she wasn't posting photos of herself and Lia all over her social media, but if you looked close enough the facts were clearly there. Plus, pretty much everyone in her personal life and Lia's knew about the pair of them, and nobody was fussed. So why Alexia was acting in this way, she didn't have a single idea.
"I told my closest, most trusted friends that I was in a relationship, and that the name of the person I was with began with 'A'. That was genuinely all I gave. I warned them not to nag me with guesses of who it was as that would break my own personal rules, because after all I didn't want to go behind Alexia's back more than I already had. Then... Alexia went through my phone. She saw that my friends were making plans in the group chat back home, and then they wondered if I had plans with 'A' over the weekend."
"She went through your phone?" Mariona questioned, in disbelief at the invasion of privacy you'd experienced.
"Yes, she did. The text flashed up on my lock screen while I went to the bathroom, and then she just went on my phone and looked through my messages. I don't know how in depth she went, but..." You shrugged, averting your gaze to your aching hands, ultimately defeated by now; by Alexia and her stubbornness, by your own mind, and lastly by the fact you had been so suddenly caught out by one of your teammates.
It was at this point that the numbness dispelled and gave way for shame, embarrassment, and a bit of anxiety. After all, you didn't know anyone from the team in depth, you were still just getting to know them, and the first thing you had done when you arrived was dive head first into a relationship with their captain. There was an endless possibility to the vast amount of opinions each person could hold for you and how they felt about your relationship (even though there was almost no way at all they could know about it), and as the silent seconds ticked by, it started eating away at you.
Though, somehow, in some magical, god-given miraculous way, Mariona saw right through you. And from now on, you were to make it your life mission to give back to this messiah in the form of an attacking footballer from the Balearic Islands of Spain.
"Hey." She tapped on the counter in front of you to get your attention, achieving that when you look up at her. "You don't have to... to get defensive with me. I can bet what you're thinking, and you don't have to worry about all those thoughts. I am neutral here, helping a friend. I will not go and tell Alexia or anyone about this, not if you don't want me to. And trust me, I am on your side. I have never heard of her acting like this, I am shocked and slightly outraged too."
That was undeniably relieving to hear, for a number of reasons. But for the most part, you were glad to hear that because for the past few days your mind had been trying its damn hardest to manipulate you into thinking this whole commotion was your fault, that you were the fault-line in the relationship that had caused this rickety earthquake.
No, that was no longer a worry, because here was possibly the human example of sunshine saying she shared your view and was just as displeased as you when it came to the Catalan's behaviour. Now, knowing you had at least one person on your side, this obstacle felt a little easier to climb over.
"I do have one thing I'm wondering." After a curious hum from you, she explained. "Is there anything you would like me to do in this situation? Like, bring it up with Ale? Because for both of your sakes, I want this to be solved in the easiest way possible."
Was it a good idea, judging off of Alexia's already toxic reaction to the point where she refused to hear you out? Most likely, but, not only did you think Mariona could teach her a thing or two when it came to human interactions, there was a small (actually fairly large) part of you that wanted to fight back against Alexia's unfairness by showing her you simply were not one to be trampled on.
There were two people in this relationship, and in this moment you realised that rank, longevity, and status in a football team were measly things to worry about.
"I think that would be a good way to start. Having someone knock some sense into her." You answered, quietly delighted when Mariona laughed momentarily at your words.
"I will try to do exactly that, for you. Promise." For the millionth time that evening, you found yourself completely under the influence of that goddamn smile.
"You're very good at communication. Unnervingly good." The hearty laugh you got in response forced the first genuine smile out of you all evening.
"Well, when you have a very emotionally intelligent girlfriend, you have to keep up."
"If you could give Alexia some lessons, I would appreciate that a lot."
"I will talk to her. Don't worry."
You left Mariona's apartment not too long after, both hands wrapped precariously and feeling significantly better than you did during that gym incident, finding solace in the fact there was now a fairly solid plan of action.
The only thing you could do now, was wait.
That was harder said than done, because for the rest of that day you didn't hear from Mariona at all. Nor did you hear from her before training the day after, and for the first time since you arrived, you were wracked with nerves as you walked into the building.
Not once during the whole session did Alexia glance towards you. Not once did she even acknowledge your existence. It drove you crazy, her acting as if you were invisible. As if she couldn't get anymore fucking immature. It took a lot of self control to not act like a petulant child towards her, desperate to piss her off in a quarter of the way she had to you, but you were better than that.
So when she rocked up outside your apartment later that day, with freshly dyed blonde hair that was styled in a frustratingly attractive way, a bouquet of chrysanthemums in one hand and a takeaway bag in the other, it took all of your strength to not slam the door in her stupidly hot face.
"What are you doing here?" You asked flatly, followed by a sigh that clearly indicated she was the last person on earth you wanted to see right now.
Well, with that haircut, maybe not the last person...
"I have a lot of explaining to do, I know that. And a lot of grovelling too. I was hoping you didn't hate me that badly to let me in." Alexia smiled sadly down at you, a slight shrug to her shoulders when she speaks.
Your mind goes back and forth for a few moments, briefly running through pros and cons of letting her in, before you decide fuck it, worst comes to worst you can show off your new boxing skills.
Eyebrows raised, you walk away from the door back towards your sofa, leaving her to wonder what to do for a moment. Ultimately, she decides to slowly follow after you once she'd softly closed the door. A quick glance around your apartment tells her you hadn't eaten yet, and she takes that as a small win before heading towards where you were seated.
"I brought your favourite takeout. Would you like to me dish it up?" She asks, a little disheartened when you shake your head.
"If you came here to talk, we're gonna talk." You state firmly, waiting expectantly for her to come sit with you.
She should have expected this really, knowing how royally she'd screwed it up with you and how disgusting she had acted. But hearing you speak so sternly was a bit unnerving, even if Alexia did recognise she more than deserved it.
A second later, she nods and places her items down on your dining table before making her way over to you. Rightfully so, she leaves some space between you both when she sits down, and you have to stifle a laugh as to not ruin your façade with how on edge she looks.
"Uh, so, me first, or..." Staying silent, you raised a daring eyebrow at her, thoroughly enjoying putting her through this slight torture. "Sí, okay, me first."
Anxiously, she wipes her clammy palms on her thighs. Then she cleared her throat, glancing at you periodically before taking a deep breath and starting her explanation.
"I am well, well aware of how bad I have acted towards you. I want to make that clear first. I acted like an idiot, to the worst degree. I was selfish, rude, I invaded your privacy, and I completely fucked it all up."
Hm, not too bad of a start.
"Congratulations, you took responsibility!" You responded sarcastically, fighting the urge to give her a round of applause too. Then you're fighting off a bubble of laughter at the nervous chuckle she gives before speaking again.
"I will regret my actions until the day I die. I promise you, I will never behave like that ever again. I've never been more ashamed of myself in my life, and knowing it's you who I acted like that towards makes it a hundred times worth. Because, you..." She shakes her head and waves her hands in the air like she's speechless. "You're you. You're the most selfless person I know. Your heart is something I do not deserve to have, because of how pure and kind and beautiful it is. You are so caring, and you love with every fibre of your being. Not only that, but you're so open, and I really admire that, because that is something I'm not. I'm... I'm ashamed to admit that even now I'm still anxious, and being secretive is how I've lived all my life. I want to be more open and care-free, I really do, it's just... hard for me."
With each word, each compliment, and each reason she gives, your hardened exterior towards her is slowly getting chipped away. You're not a grudge holder, it's not in your nature. And no matter how much you tried to fight it, it was inexplicably hard to not get wrapped up in her.
"Mariona... Mariona said you didn't even tell your friends it was me you were with. She said you only told them my name began with A, and that was it."
Alexia trusted Mariona of course, that was something that naturally occurred having known her for so long, but she wanted to get confirmation from you.
"I did. They don't know it's you I'm with." You told her, and if it was somehow possible, Alexia's heart shattered just that bit more.
"Well, I'm sorry, amor. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, it was really stupid and unfair of me. I really appreciate that you didn't break my trust, like I thought you had. I... that just shows how little I valued you. And I swear, that's something you'll never have to doubt again. I value you more than anyone in my life. I have a reason for why I was... more than reluctant to tell people about us. But I don't know if you want to hear it. I don't want you to think it's some flimsy excuse."
"Well, I mean, you may as well say it now." You scoffed, watching as she gulped nervously before nodding.
"My last relationship... with Jenni. That's why I'm so worried about telling people. Because even now, years after we ended our relationship that I would never ever want to go back to, people still talk about us, comment on our posts, make edits of us, and freak out about every little fucking interaction between us. It drives me crazy, even now, when I know I should not let it get under my skin, but it does and I can't stop it."
She shrugs dismissively as she talks, eyes cast down on her hands as she fidgets with the rings on her fingers. It's clearly a topic for her that's hard to discuss, and you want to reach out and take hold of one of her hands, but you don't want to distract her.
"When I was with Jenni, I was nowhere near as 'famous' as I am now. Now, I get the most vile and intrusive articles written about me, there are always cameras on me, paparazzi trying to figure out where I am at all times, and it really worries me because I don't want to involve you in that. If the media started writing things about you that were even just half as nasty as the things they've said about me, I would never be able to live with myself. It would eat me up, amor, I don't want you to go through that."
Okay, out of all the overthinking you've done in the last three days, your mind had not mustered up this point of view. This was undeniably sweet, a stark contrast to the way she'd treated you during the argument. You'd been with Alexia long enough to be more than familiar with how she acted on her anxieties in rather unhealthy ways for herself with harmful consequences for those around her as a result. Most likely, you realised, her recent behaviour was a demonstration of that very fact.
"And though those reasons shouldn't excuse my behaviour, because I should never have acted like that, I hope it gives you a tiny bit of insight into my head and allows you to recognise my actions came from a place of love, not malice. I showed it in completely the wrong way, but I swear to you from this moment on I will treat you better than I ever have, if you let me live up to that promise."
A shaky breath leaves the woman beside you, signifying the end of her ramble. And, to be honest, you'd forgiven her long before she finished speaking.
"Thank you for opening up to me. I forgive you, I do, but I won't forget how you treated me. If you ever show even a hint of that behaviour ever again, I'm out, Alexia, you must know that." You give her a clear warning, despite the fact your heart is crying out for you to just jump right back into her arms.
"I do know, I absolutely do know that." She seems to make the leap for you, as she shuffles along the sofa and gently takes ahold of both your hands. Your wounded hands. "Amor, what... what happened?"
Her voice is filled with concern, immediately overcome with nausea as a result of the worry she feels at the sight. However, that's nothing compared to the guilt she feels when you tell her what happened.
"Oh, um... an unfortunate run in with a punching bag not too long after our argument." You reveal sheepishly.
Alexia's heart drops. It drops from her chest, to the ground, through the core of the earth, and all the way down to China.
"This... this is because of me?" She whispers the question like she's terrified to utter the words. She's even more terrified of the answer.
"I guess. Yeah. I had to get my anger out some way, and I'm sure you're glad it wasn't your face." You try to joke, but it lands flatter than a pancake.
"Amor, I..." She can't find the right words within her to even attempt to apologise.
The great thing about mental health, was that 99% of the time you couldn't see it. That meant Alexia couldn't see the psychological damage she had caused you with her words.
But this, this was concrete evidence of just how much her treatment had affected you. She had done so much damage to your self-esteem, that you had no choice but to lash out to the point of injury. That, she feared, she would never get over.
"I guess Mariona failed to mention this part to you." Another pitiful attempt to lift the mood.
"She took care of you?" Alexia asked tentatively, the tiniest bit relieved when you nod.
In a split second, her arms were wound tightly around you as she tugged you into her lap. A rush of Catalan spilled from her, of which you gathered were words of apologies and sweet nothings to convey her intense regret. You didn't catch a word, not too familiar with the language despite playing for the pride of Catalunya, but you got the gist quite quickly and it didn't take you a moment longer before your arms were wrapped around her neck.
You were flooded with relief now that you were back in her hold, the embrace finally silencing the relentless voice in your head that had been going non-stop for days now. There were tears dripping onto your neck though, something that has you furrowing your brow and urging her to lift her head up.
"Ale, what's this for?" You asked, delicately wiping some of the tears that were overflowing.
"I just... I fucked it up so bad. So bad. Dios mío, you've ended up hurting yourself because of it. I'm just so sorry. I'm so so sorry."
Alexia falls apart then, breaking out into sobs that, though it's a rather a harsh thing to admit (not that you ever would, verbally) really exemplify her guilt and regret, and tie off her apology. You hate seeing her cry, hate seeing her so ruined, but all you can do now is hug her just as tight back and hope your words provide her some comfort.
"I forgive you, Ale, I do. My hands aren't your fault, it's a result of me not being sensible when letting my anger out. It's not your fault, mi corazón, not your fault at all."
You carry on spewing words of comfort for her until her cries finally subside a few minutes later. How she rubs at her eyes is something you find adorable, the way she does so reminding you of a young child. Your own hands follow her calloused ones, treating her with the same care she had complimented you on not so long ago. It warms her heart to no end, and it offers her a little reassurance of the fact you don't hate her guts.
"It's my fault a little bit." She mumbles, and there's a speckle of humour in it that you're not hesitant to jump on.
"Maybe a tiny bit." You whisper scandalously, smiling at the tearful laugh she lets out. "But I don't resent you for it. If I did, we wouldn't be in this position right now, okay?"
"Whatever you say, amor." Alexia nods, a semi-genuine smile on her face as she leans forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder.
"There's one thing I need from you for us to move past this." You state seriously a few quiet moments after.
She lifts her head up and nods vigorously, prepared to do just about anything you asked for if it meant she could love you for the rest of her life.
"I want to be able to tell people that are important to us. My family, my friends. Your family and friends. Our teammates. I'm not asking for us to go public on social media, I'm not asking for anything like that. I just want us to be more open. I want to be able to walk around Barcelona with you, like we did together when we started out dating. Because those moments with you, where you showed me your favourite restaurants and cafes and places special to you, they're some of my favourite memories with you. I just long for us to have a normal relationship, not one kept in the safety of our apartments behind closed doors. Because it's embarrassing and... and soul destroying being treated like I'm invisible. Just... treat me like a human fucking being in training, please? In public?"
It felt rather humiliating to be begging for such normal things, but that was the exact word you would use to describe this whole thing for you. Humiliating. To be treated like you had by, arguably, the sole person who shouldn't treat you like that, was something you never wished to experience again. Because, if you did? Well, there was simply no coming back.
But, you supposed, being in love was all about taking chances on people and relationships couldn't be built without a steady foundation of trust. That's all you could do now; trust in Alexia to nurture your heart like a delicate blossom where she cherishes every petal with gentle devotion.
"I will. Mi amor, I will do that and more. I will do anything you want me to, I promise that I will change my bad habits so that you never have to suffer at my hands again. I will love you like it's the last thing I'll do. You could never be invisible to me, you never were. From the first time I saw you, in your two-sizes-too-big Barça jumper on your first day, you've been everything but invisible to me."
Finally, the nail in the coffin to this whole ridiculous thing. And man, were you glad to see the back of it.
"As long as you don't embarrass me by one-upping me with your flawless free-kicks."
Despite the push to the shoulder you give her, you giggle and pull her back in for another hug. You'd been deprived of her embrace for far too long, and you planned to make up for it.
"I can't make any promises, unfortunately." You teased, grinning into the skin of her neck as her hands splayed out over your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly.
"I think I will take that." Alexia murmured, hugging you just that bit tighter before she leaned back. She moved her hands from your back to softly cradling your face, her eyes jumping from each feature to feature, trying to commit her favourite art piece in the world to her memory. Then, she met your gaze, and the sincerity and earnest present there was breathtaking. "We'll be okay?"
It was asked in such a vulnerable tone, you couldn't help but smile down at her.
"We'll be okay, Ale."
Going into training the next day, there was a spring in your step. Alexia had stayed over at yours the previous night, near enough refusing to leave. That meant she was wearing the same trousers as the day before along with one of your sweaters that, to your amusement, was evidently slightly too small for her as the cuffs ended just shy of her wrists. Call it your revenge perhaps, but as you both arrived at training together, chatting freely with content smiles on your face, it felt like a new leaf had been turned.
Alexia had made many mistakes with you, that she knew. She also knew she had no more chances, so she was going to try her absolute hardest to never act like such a fool again, even if it killed her. However, the shy smile on your face when she bounded up to you after Jona demanded the team to get into pairs for 1-on-1 practice, was enough proof for her to realise that it wouldn't be such a shame to go out of this world as a result of your love.
She almost came to regret that though when you handed her ass to her on a plate with each of your attempts to get past her. Because, quite frankly, you did embarrass her. Crossing her sides and body-checking her and out-skilling her each time was satisfying to no end, and it was exactly what you needed really. At one point, there was an ounce of worry that perhaps Alexia would be annoyed, but that dissipated immediately when she would laugh and slap her own forehead each time she was outshone.
That tiny speck of worry was completely forgotten about when, after the last attempt of the day, Alexia ran up behind you and lifted you up off the ground with her arms around your torso. Her mouth found its way to your ear as she took a few steps whilst carrying you, squeezing you tightly once.
"Never embarrass me like that again." She murmured jokingly, fighting back a grin as you laughed unabashedly in her hold. Afterwards, she put you down and moved to walk closely beside you, heading back to the main building as Jona called the end of training.
"You're the one that partnered up with me, Ale." You nudged her in the side with your elbow, gazing up at her with an adoring look that had Alexia's heart jumping in her chest.
"Maybe, but I only have one thing to say."
"What's that?" You hummed.
"Thank god for Mariona." She murmured, smiling as you giggled and nodded.
That smile was wiped off her face when an arm flung around her shoulders not a second later.
"Thank god for who?"
"I don't need your bragging right now, Mario, you're ruining a nice moment."
"I made this nice moment happen, Ale, you better thank me properly soon."
With that, the islander left just as quickly as she had arrived. When Alexia noticed the teasing grin on your face at the interaction, she shoved at your shoulder with a grumble under her breath.
"She really got through to you, then?"
"Oh yeah, absolutely. She beat my ass."
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rodolfoparras · 2 days
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Ok ok maybe in on a stretch here but just hear me out please‼️
Big Dick! Price x Mid/Little Dick! Reader
Like old man price having a dick too big for anyone to take to he comes across you and wants nothing more than to ride your dick dry. That big old man that’s twice your age with a dick too big that’s basically useless and him being teary-eyed and stupid from how dickmatized he is. Who would have thought that a mid sized dick would made that big man fall apart so easily. Him riding you and his large cock hard, leaky, and flopping up and down slapping on your stomach.
I got a lot more to say about this…
Thinking about Price who’s been a top all of his life mostly because of his size, until he meets you and gets to bottom for the first time.
Prep is a breeze with him, years of fucking his own toys and fantasizing about this very moment has made him able to easily take your fingers, greedy hole practically swallowing your four digits, even huffing and puffing when you insist on dragging things out because you’re afraid of hurting the man. But he assures you that he’ll be okay, sighs in relief when he finally feels you line your cockhead up with his entrance, easily sliding into him without much resistance.
It’e when you set a steady pace that he loses his head, violent sobs escaping his lips and erratically bucking his hips, his fat ass practically swallowing your dick, telling you he wants more and more and more even though you’re balls deep and fucking him so hard you’re rocking the bed beneath him.
It doesn’t take much for Price to flip the two of you around or rather demand to be flipped around and start bouncing on your cock, because he just can’t seem to get satisfied until he takes matters into his own hands. You can see the way his eyes roll into the back of his head, can hear the strangled noises slipping past his lips, can feel him grab your hand and putting it on his ass cheeks, looking content as ever as he sets a steady pace on your dick. panting harder faster deeper, please into your ear even though he’s the one riding you, making a whole mess out of himself in a matter of minutes.
And when he tips over the edge it’s like he’s a bottomless pit, his cum pooling on your stomach and staining your sheets, cock still weeping as you chase your own release. Price can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed because just as you’ve caught your breath he’s sinking down onto your dick again.
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moonstruckme · 15 hours
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can i request a doctor!remus fic where maybe reader comes into the er and is very panicked by doctors and hospitals and they call remus in to help because he’s like known for putting people at ease….this may or may not be based on when i freaked out over a needle and they had to bring in a special doctor :l please and thank you and i’m obsessed with your fics <3
Thank you sweetness <3
cw: hospital, needle
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Your heart is in your throat. It’s pounding so hard you can feel its beating in your teeth, and no matter how you try you cannot get tears to stop leaking from your eyes. 
“Wait,” you say again, the word a wobbly, tight-voiced mantra. You keep thinking that if you can just calm yourself enough to seem credible, you can reason with these people. Convince them that you’re actually fine, so there’s no need to touch you, or poke you, or try to move your already agonizing shoulder. 
There are already three people in your tiny curtained-off room with you, so when the curtain pulls back and a fourth enters, you angle your hurt shoulder away from him unconsciously. 
“Hello,” the new doctor says. His voice is low and velveteen smooth, cutting through the thrumming panic in your brain like a warm knife through butter. The other doctor and the nurses who have been trying to pacify you fall quiet, seemingly relieved this other man is here. He glances quickly at a clipboard. “Y/n? I’m Remus.” 
“Hi.” You feel pathetic and a bit wild, tears still trudging down your face as you try to keep an eye on everyone in the room, especially the nurse with the needle. They’ve promised you several times now that they’re not going to do anything until you agree, and it’s not that you don’t trust that but you’re wary of anything happening without your notice. 
Remus walks over to you as though this scene is completely normal for him. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed and sets the clipboard down. 
“Are you alright?” he asks, looking as though he’d really like to know. His expression is kind and concerned. 
You give a little laugh, using your good hand to wipe under your eyes. It comes out sounding pitchy and stilted. “I’ve been better,” you admit. Remus’ lips curve in a small, sad smile. “I just, I’d really rather not be here.” 
“That’s understandable,” he replies patiently. He seems the least urgent of anyone you’ve interacted with since you’ve been here, and there’s a tranquility about him that’s contagious. You feel your tears slowing. “This isn’t really somewhere people end up when their day is going according to plan. What is it that’s making you nervous, sweetheart?” 
All of it, you want to say. The doctors and the nurses and the machines and the hair-raising sound of a baby crying a few rooms over. You hate hospitals and you always have. The idea of needing to be in more pain to relieve the one you’re already experiencing makes you feel like you’re trying to breathe through a straw. 
“I don’t like needles,” you say. Understatement of the year. 
Remus nods, seeming to mull this over. “Well, you have a dislocated shoulder,” he says, mouth pinching sympathetically. “The only way to fix that is to put the joint back into its proper place. It’s not the sort of thing that takes care of itself.” As he talks, his hand moves to rest on top of yours, forefinger stroking a slow back-and-forth across the back of your hand. “It can be fairly painful,” he tells you, “and if you move you could make things a lot harder for yourself. So, we’re going to give you medicine to help you calm down and alleviate the pain.” 
In his steady, dulcet voice, the thing that’s been explained to you twice over already sounds a lot more sensible. His thumb works over your hand, light brown eyes gently coaxing.
“The good thing about this procedure is, both parts are done with fairly quickly. And if you’d like me to, I can hold you while Dr. Michaels works, if that’ll help you at all.” 
The other three people in the room are moving again, somewhat slowly, but Remus doesn’t seem to notice. He holds your gaze. 
“Yes, please,” you say tightly. You know it’s an acquiescence. Even as you say it more tears are blurring your vision. 
“Alright, it’s alright.” Remus wastes no time in moving to your side, his hip pressed to yours while he wraps one arm around your middle and uses the other to turn your face into his shoulder. “You’re fine, sweetheart.” 
You feel childish and embarrassed, wetting his scrubs with your tears, but he only sweeps his thumb over your ribs, shushing you compassionately.  
“We’re going to give you the medicine now, try to stay relaxed.” 
You tense when you feel the cold wipe, and a quiet whimper slips past your lips at the bite of the needle. 
Remus’ hand tightens on your head. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. The needle slips out. 
“Breathe,” Remus instructs. You hadn’t realized you’d stopped. You let out a tremulous exhale, and he brushes some hairs away from your face, your forehead still resting on his shoulder. “That was good,” he assures you. “You’re halfway done now.” 
“Thank you,” you say, more than a little humiliated as you swipe the wetness from your cheeks, sniffling. 
Remus offers a small smile. It’s absurd how much it relaxes you. “Don’t mention it.” He looks to the other doctor. “How do you want her for this next part?” 
“Lying down, please.” 
He turns back to you. “Okay? You want help?” 
Your good hand has gone back to holding your shoulder, so he uses a hand on your back to help ease you horizontal on the bed. Once you’re settled he coaxes your hand away, taking it in his own. His skin is warm and scarred in some places, cruel lines that feel like a violation to touch. He doesn’t seem to mind. 
Remus gets you talking, about the fall that landed you in here, your day before that, your life in general. His responses are understanding and amused at times, seemingly genuinely invested in what you have to say. As you speak his thumb is moving over the side of your hand, down to your wrist and back again, slow and hypnotic. A few minutes later, your eyelids and limbs are heavy, the movement of Remus’ thumb the center of your focus as he tells you about one of the many scrapes his ostensibly reckless friends have gotten into over the years. 
“Seems like it’s working,” he says with a little smile. You blink, not having realized he’d finished his story. “How do you feel, love?” 
“Sleepy.” Your voice sounds stretched and lazy. “My arm still sorta hurts, though.” 
Remus makes a sympathetic tsking sound. “Unfortunately, we can’t make all the pain go away, but it will be a lot easier than it would have otherwise.” He trades hands, taking your hand in his other one and using the first to make sure your face is angled towards him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here with you.” 
Somehow, that makes everything seem a lot more manageable. 
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surielstea · 15 hours
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Wrapping Wounds
1k celebration request
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Pairing: Bodyguard!Azriel x Princess!Reader
Summary: Azriel gets hurt and reader feels guilty, so she visits his bedroom and doesn’t plan on leaving until he’s healed.
Warnings: mention of attempted kidnapping (it’s all fluff though)
1.8k words
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My bodyguard was injured. Which is a surprisingly unusual occurrence. Azriel never got hurt, so it was a shock when I opened my bedroom door this morning only to find the grand hallway vacant, void of any brooding male guarding anyone from entering my bedroom. He was always there to greet me with a slight nod of his head, his shadows bringing me a cup of coffee before I could even mutter a word.
Instead, this morning I was met with an entirely different face, one I recognized but hadn't been expecting.
"Where's Azriel?" Is the first thing I say to Cassian, an equally intimidating male.
"He's injured at the moment, I'll be guarding you today." Cassian's words were dutiful and I can't help but frown. I loved Cass, sure, but I couldn't help but wonder why Azriel was hurt.
"So he's in the medical tents still healing?" I ask, stepping from my bedroom and closing the door behind me.
"I believe he's in his bedroom, but you're not allowed—" He starts but he doesn't get to finish before I winnow out of his sight and straight into Azriel's bedroom.
It was wrong to use my abilities against Cassian who was incapable of winnowing but it wasn't as if I was breaking any rules, just visiting an injured friend.
Azriel was sitting on his bed, currently rewrapping a wound on his abdomen.
"You can't be in here," Azriel stated without even taking a glance up at me, yet he still knew. I had to hold back from rolling my eyes at his absurd comment.
"I've been in a male's bedroom before," I scoff but he and I both knew that wasn't what he was talking about. We had been toeing the line of unspoken feelings for far too long now, mere inches away from being more than just professionals but he refused to cross that line and didn't want to drag me with him either.
I gather my skirts in my hands and close the distance between us, crouching down beside him and taking over his job of dressing his own wound, replacing his calloused, scarred hands with my manicured, delicate ones.
"You're not paid enough to get stabbed on my behalf," I grumble beneath my breath, my hair falling into my face as I focus on keeping pressure on the wound.
"Is everything about money to you, princess?" He teased and I just huffed, flicking my gaze up at him in a glare. He mirrors it with a quirk of his lip.
"Nevertheless, I'm making my brother give you a raise," I claim, looking back down to the gauze in my hands, deciding to look into his hazel eyes was too much to bear if I could not have them on me at all times. "Tell me what happened," I say, my words coming out more demanding than I anticipated but I was frustrated with myself for falling so damned hard for someone who was simply paid to be around me.
"So demanding," He grumbles, craning his neck to the side as if he needed to stretch, already tired from this conversation. "All you need to know is that some guys were trying to, take you last night," He gritted out like it was hard for him to stomach, but I brushed it off as the pain from his wound. "And I wasn't going to let them," He finished and I frowned, keeping my eyes pinned to the wrap in my hands as I tightly secured it with a clasp.
"It doesn't hurt too much, does it?" I say, looking up at him. He reaches towards me, his large calloused hand coming to my jaw and then pushing a lock of my hair away from my face.
"It's sweet that you're worried about me, but I’m kind of paid to be your bodyguard." He looks down at me with a stoic expression, a hint of devotion wandering behind his gaze.
“You don’t have to remind me,” I mumble, looking away from his gaze and down to his wound, the one that’s my fault. "If I was there, I would've offered myself rather than see you get hurt," I confess and his brows form a line, an angry frown pulling at his lips.
"Don't say that," He uttered. "No one will ever deserve you, no matter how good of a fight they put up." He claims and a comforting warmth blooms in the depths of my chest. I swallow, rising fully but still having to look up at him.
"I think you put up a pretty good fight," I shrug suggestively and he shakes his head.
"I'm protecting you because it's my job, it's just business princess." He claims and I roll my eyes and sling my arms over his shoulders, which he doesn't back away from.
"Nuh-uh, admit it, you like me," I taunt with a smile spreading over my lips, able to read him like an open book as the corner of his lip twitches downward, a clear indicator that he was debating if he should say something he knew he’d later regret.
"You're technically not working right now, we wouldn't be breaking any rules," I add and he only gazes down at me with a faux pitiful look in his eyes, like a rich man too selfish to donate to my charity.
"I don't think that's how it works." He blinks ever so slowly, taking all of this moment in.
"Az," I huff, walking my fingers down his bare chest.
"Princess," He mocks my tone, catching my wrist in his hand before it could get too low. "Cassian will be in here any second," He gestures for me to step backward with a jerk of his head. I wrap my hands around the back of his neck instead, rebelling his commands and doing the exact opposite. But he didn't push me away, and he didn't complain when I slowly situated myself over his lap.
"Please," I utter, begging was foreign to me but I'd do it if it meant he'd finally just let me love him.
"Please, what?" He plays dumb and this time I do actually roll my eyes, one of my hands going into his hair.
"Please, can you just stop being my bodyguard for five seconds and be my boyfriend?" I mumble and a smile pulls at the corner of his lips.
"It's kind of a package deal," He shrugs, his eyes glinting with amusement, silently laughing at my frustration.
"My gods, just kiss me already," I sigh and a rare grin grows over his features, revealing dimples.
"Always, so demanding," He muttered while leaning in, cupping my jaw in his large hand and pulling me into him.
Our lips connect like the last two pieces of a puzzle I've been working on for years, slotting together perfectly. His other hand was slipping up the slit in my pastel dress, resting at my upper thigh, gripping it occasionally and I can't help but smile at his lips at the action.
He slips his tongue into my mouth at the first opportunity he gets, craving to taste me further than just my lips. I wrap my arms tighter around the back of my neck, attempting to press myself as close as possible, needing the proximity of his warmth more than anything else.
He winced, biting slightly at my bottom lip in silent warning and I realized I pressed against his wound.
"Sorry," I murmur as he moves away from my lips and towards my jaw, kissing a trail down it all the way to my neck.
"We should probably stop," Azriel murmured as if he wasn't the one sucking hickeys to my neck and holding me down with his hand on my thigh.
"Probably," I say, slightly breathless as I recover from the pain of him pulling away from my lips. "I don't want to go," I sigh. "I'm safe in here with you, I don't need any other bodyguard," I explain and he smiles against my neck at my words, kissing the area softly.
A knock on the door makes me jump but he barely flinched, pulling away from my neck and looking at where he had been sucking, admiring the forming mark like an artist staring at their canvas.
"I have an idea, hide behind the door." He gestures to the door and I nod with a cheeky grin, scrambling off his lap and to where he told me to go.
"Az, you in there?" Cassian's voice was heard through the door.
Instead of replying, Azriel simply swung the door open with a tired smile. From my position, I could still see Azriel, but I was out of Cassian's line of sight— unless, of course, he decided to enter the room.
"Is the Princess in here?" I can hear the slight panic in Cassian's voice but Azriel doesn't falter when he replies.
"You already lost her?" The male scoffed, slightly amused.
"It's not my fault, she saw I wasn't you and winnowed away. I figured she'd be with you." I couldn't see the male but I knew his brows were bunched. I sort of felt bad for the male, I debated telling him I was going to stay with Azriel for the rest of the day so he should go far away unless he wanted to hear some things he shouldn't, but I didn't, I let Azriel handle it.
"Calm down, she's probably at the library. This castle is crawling with guards, she's safe here," Azriel reassured and Cassian must've nodded because there was no reply.
"I'm going back to bed, no more interruptions I'm trying to heal," Azriel shooed him away.
"Right, thanks Az," Cassian murmurs then a heavy pair of footsteps recede down the hall and Azriel closes the door, turning to me.
"Having affairs with your protectee and lying to your colleagues, how many rules are you going to break today?" I tease, lifting onto the tips of my toes and twining my arms around the back of his neck.
"I can always ask him to come back," He retorts and I frown, pecking his lips so quickly he barely had time to return the action.
"You wouldn't dare give me up so easily," I claim confidently, my fingers twining into his hair. "You like me too much."
"Way too much." He leans closer, his nose brushing mine. He looks at me for a moment, admiring my features from such a short distance, but as soon as his eyes flick down to my lips he can't help but lean in, our lips pressing together and somehow he made it feel like we've been doing this for decades it was all so natural.
"I'm staying in here all day, I hope you know that," I mumble and he pulls away a fraction to meet my gaze.
"But how will I ever get my rest to heal?" He sighs dramatically and I chuckle.
"I'll tell you what, you can sleep as long as you want, you just have to cuddle with me," I offer, and a soft grin forms on his lips.
"Sounds perfect to me." He closes the distance between us once more.
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Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel
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grind-pantera · 3 days
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Early Morning Headcanons. ( Caesar x Reader, Noa x Reader. )
Don't look @ me I'm in my domestic era.
Caesar.
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On average, he tends to wake up at least an hour before you do and he’s courteous enough to let you sleep in further if he thinks you need it. Just kidding, he’d let you sleep in regardless if he thought you needed it or not, he just justifies leaving you in the nest the mornings he actually has something to do by telling himself you need the sleep and that he doesn’t need to wake you. 
Often spends that hour in self-reflection, sitting either by himself, or out with Maurice in the common area of the Colony. Not much is said, but enough is felt that Caesar feels proud and accomplished at how far Apes have truly come. 
Some mornings though he does find himself dwindling by the nest, watching you sleep. The same sense of pride and accomplishment hit him when he looks at you and how vulnerable you were in your sleep; a testament that you trusted Caesar and you didn't fear your surroundings any longer and that the Colony was considered your home. Caesar… was considered your home.. You truly were the type of human he tried to convince the other Apes about. 
Will place his hand on your head, drawing his thick fingers through your hair once or twice before lightly resting his forehead against yours in parting before leaving in the mornings, regardless if you’re asleep or awake. *~When you’re asleep as that happens it occasionally garners Caesar a sleepy smile from you, half conscious, half consumed by sleep as you murmur a rather lazy ‘have a good day’, hand half-heartedly cupping the side of his face before sleep overtakes you again, Caesar draping an animal pelt over you and taking that as his bid to get going. *~The mornings you are awake and he comes to bid you goodbye with the typical forehead touching, you like him to linger knowing that it’s the only affection you were going to get from him until that evening when you two were alone again. And linger he does; occasional morning shenanigans have left him late to a council meeting and late to meet with Maurice, Blue Eyes, Ash and Rocket for hunting. Never had an excuse for them. He doesn’t need one, being the Ape King.
Has slept in; maybe once or twice in the time you have known him. It’s not that he doesn’t want to or wouldn’t like to; in fact, he’s enticed with the idea of falling back asleep when he wakes up and you’re coiled in next to him. The sounds of your breathing, the sensation of warmth hitting like waves, your scent pulling him back under.  *~It’s a matter of Caesar’s status. He’s busy; he knows he’s busy, you know he’s busy. And as much as you want him to stay next to you for just a few minutes longer, you surrender to him knowing that he’ll come back to you later that evening.  
There are mornings though where you share breakfast. The typical schedule of this is sharing a communal meal with the Colony; that’s how it always was and you thoroughly enjoyed it, getting to know Blue Eyes further, getting to know Ash, Rocket and Maurice-- and to his behest, you knew a bit about Koba as well. But, Caesar noticed your reluctance to do that after laying with you the night before. You explained that you knew the other Apes could smell what you did the night before and you were mildly embarrassed by that, especially when they looked at you and hooted.  *~Caesar definitely sees no problem with it, that’s just how it was for him. He was their King, and if they had a problem with it, they could talk to Caesar directly. Not that anyone had a problem.  ( Outside of Koba. ) He took his time to explain that to you, just so you understood it was really not a big deal, everyone who was anyone in the Colony could see a pair who just mated without even sparing a glance. It wasn’t a heavily judgmental topic. *~Caesar relinquished though when you were adamant about your embarrassment, being self-conscious of their eyes on you in the moments; Caesar having to remind himself that it was purely a human thing in this situation and it wasn’t meant as a slight towards himself or the other Apes.
He low-key does like the morning breakfasts alone with you. Gives him just that more time to spend with you before the inevitable chaos of the day beckons him outside. 
Greatest mornings are the mornings when you pull him to you and let him just go for it without reserve wait who said that.
Noa.
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Considers himself to be an early riser, but compared to his mother Dar, or even Soona, he likes to sleep a bit longer. Will wake up on normal days right after dawn regardless of when he went to sleep the night before. ( Which, often, is very late. He likes to stay awake to work on things that could improve life around the village, or his favorite new hobby which was watching you sleep. )
Since taking over for his Father though, Noa does find himself waking up a bit earlier than before to go take care of the Eagles, typically done right before dawn happens. He’s often hopeful he can return back to the nest in silence before you wake up and he can sneak back in with you and be there when you wake up. Some mornings it works like that, and some mornings, Noa is late and doesn’t get his utmost pleasure at seeing you wake up. 
Those mornings he is late can go one of two ways: You find him with the Eagles and he is profusely apologetic that he lost track of time or he finds you, already at breakfast with Soona, Anaya and his Mother.  ~*When you find him: He does not stop apologizing for not being there when you wake up. Quietly, you place your hands on the side of his head and bring him in closer, lightly resting your forehead on him. He knows you’re understanding of his status, of what he has to do to maintain, and for that, he was forever grateful. He accepts the forehead touch, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment before Eagle Sun starts squawking for attention. Not from Noa, mind you. Eagle Sun enjoys your presence, so much so that Noa finds himself meagerly jealous that his bird would follow you. Only Noa was allowed to do that! ~*When he finds you, it’s a little less intimate as you are already around his familiar base of friends and family. The smile you give him as he sits next to you, ready to eat breakfast always gets Noa in a good mood if he so happened to have woken up in a terrible one that morning. You know what he likes, having already gathered his food for him. Another thing to be grateful for and if you’re lucky and Noa is feeling a bit more bold, he’ll grab the back of your head and bring you in quickly to rest his forehead against yours before proceeding to eat. Just a brief second, and it leaves you reeling every time. 
Has been known to sleep in from time to time though. Occasionally after a night of endeavors with you; they just leave him exhausted and he likes the feeling of waking up next to you after he thinks about what you did the night before. Will pull you in closer as you sleep when he recollects. If you’re already awake and he pulls you in to his body in a sleepy haze, Noa is almost guaranteed to be a bit late to anything he has to do that day. 
If you find yourself awake before Noa, your favorite thing is to trail your fingers along his back. He does sleep on his stomach, more often than any other position, and those early mornings before the sun pounds down on you to actually get up, you find yourself idly tracing nonsensical shapes upon his shoulder blade. You like how he reacts to it. The muscles, involuntarily reacting to your simple touch, Noa himself? As direct as can be as he raises an arm blindly, eyes still stuck, tucking it around your hips and pulling you towards him, still half asleep. You succumb to his touch and fall into it, either right onto his back, which admittedly Noa really likes the feeling of your weight on him, or right next to him.
If you know Noa needs to wake up, he will not comply. He groans, rather profusely and rolls onto his side, facing away from you as you urge him, hand on his bicep. He's going to be late to meet with Anaya for hunting. Murmuring something that sounds like a small 'can't make me', you try again and lightly nudge his arm. Big mistake and moments later, you are absolutely crushed with the weight of Noa's body rolling on top of yours, a shout of laughter coming from your lips.
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Text
Enough
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Zoro x reader
Hurt/comfort + gn reader
1k words, very self indulgent
Masterlist
“FUCK” you scream in annoyance tossing your weapon across the room, plomping down with your hands shielding your face as you pant from exhaustion, frustration aching at every bone
The last few week’s training had become more of a chore, scratch that, an inconvenience. Your mind seemed to be wondering elsewhere, anywhere but where your feet stand making you fail over and over again, not landing a single hit for hours on end. You had tried everything, taking it slow, harsh, even bribing yourself saying ‘If I land this hit I’ll buy me something nice’ just to end up in disappointment
Having no results at something you’ve been great at for years and years, that had gotten you the place at your captains crew was like a dagger digging into your skin, as another day passed where you couldn’t even get through the first exercise in your routine.
The sound of slow and steady footsteps met your ears making you shield yourself further, hiding your face in the corner of the room fighting the tears that threatened to flow
“You ok?” Zoros low and raspy voice calls for you, his tone monotone
You don’t even spare him a glance before you let out a heavy sigh “Clearly not”
Everyone in the ship had noticed your drastic shift in behavior. Every time you’d come down from the crows nest, your face was bright red, feet stumping as you smashed the door of your quarters shut, not talking to anyone for at least an hour
Zoro knew exactly what it was as he had witnessed your frustration while he shared the training room form time to time. You would grunt and stomp your feet like a child, telling yourself everything from words of encouragement to degrading venomous things as you tried and tried to get at least one hit.
But he never said a thing
Until you stopped coming down for dinners, sleeping in more and more often, spending your days rotting, nor a smile or a laugh leaving your mouth. That natural glow and silly sweet personality you carried slowly fading away as the days passed, and he couldn’t have that
The swordsman sat down at your side, arms crossed across his wide chest while his mind reeled. Zoro clearly was not on his element, he had searched of the right words to say, the right timing, but he quickly came to the realization that there’s no such thing, he just had to be blunt
“Stop beating yourself up” to his surprise you shake your head frantically, there goes his words of encouragement
“I am just trying to be useful for the crew, if I can’t be that might as well throw me out in the ocean” your words linger in the air, making Zoro frown and stabbing your own heart
“Is this what everything’s about?” You sit right up and stare back at him confused, he looks annoyed
“What?”
“You’re beating yourself up because you don’t feel useful?”
Zoro waches the rapid speed in which your chest rises and falls, your lungs fighting to find the air they so much need, teardrops falling in your cheeks
“I-“ you choke out, your voice betraying you but your eyes fixated on the swordsman, a quiet call for help but he waits, clinging at your every word
“I am not as strong as you Zoro, or as smart as Robin, as entertaining as Brook and Ussop, or as caring as Sanji and Chopper, as important as Franky and Nami… I always give my 200% so that I fulfill my role but sometimes, sometimes I can’t even get to 50%” your hands are quick to wash your salty tears away, embarrassed by how vulnerable you had allowed yourself to be, but if you were to keep your feelings inside any longer you were going to fall apart
“You are our crew mate”- Zoro spoke with his usual standoffish tone, yet it sounded more soft and reassuring as other times you had conversed.- “You are not some clown or some soldier, you’re here because Luffy saw something in you, he believed in you as we all do here, you don’t have to prove yourself” your head started to shake once more but Zoro was quick to shut down your insecurities, one of his hands holding your forearm giving it a light squeeze
“You’re enough” his words got stuck in your heart, warming it and finally releasing the dreadful thoughts that had been plaguing you for days
You break down crying, head falling on his sculptured chest holding onto the swordsman like your lifeline “I am so tired”- you whispered between sobs. Zoro was taken aback but didn’t tried to pull away, instead holding your frame close, hands drawing soothing circles in your back as you let go finally. And there he sat, wetting his shirt with your tears but he didn’t cared, being strong all the time could be tiring he knows this better than anyone, as well as how you had to always show up and be strong to protect yourself
But now he was here to do so
Your sobs died down as your breath aligned to the beating of his heart thrumming in your ears, you thank him, eyes glittering back at his gaze that seemed to have softened, he brushes the matter off but Zoro is more than happy to had been of service, lifting the heavy burden from your back
“Now, go rest” and for the first time in weeks, you smile
That smile he had so missed making his heart jump and skip several beats, a warm feeling spreading all over his being, and glad you’re back to yourself just as he wanted. It may sound selfish but he doesn’t care, he wants you back
“You’re far more emotionally intelligent than people give you credit for mosshead” he rolls his eyes trying to hide his swelling pride
“I am just that great” you nudge him before standing up making your way out, his eyes never leaving you as if preoccupied something would bother you again in his absence
As you slip to sleep that night, you can finally truly rest, your body letting go of the tension that had build up, worries washing away like the tides crashing against the ship, the moonlight and the sound of the ocean lulling you to have the best sleep of your life
All thanks to your swordsman
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hqbaby · 2 days
Text
fourteen — kiss me again
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mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 2k content. profanity, sexual content [elevator sex, fingering, oral f receiving]
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Once the adrenaline of the last few minutes has dissipated, you and Sukuna find yourselves painfully awkward as you stand in the elevator, placing a respectful distance between the two of you.
“How—”
“Do—”
You both stop talking, looking at each other with nervous smiles. You laugh to try and ease the tension, but somehow it only makes it worse.
He nods at you, wringing his hands. “You go first.”
You look away. “Nothing,” you say. “I was just gonna ask how—”
The lights go out around you and the elevator comes to a sudden halt. You stumble at the unexpected stop, but Sukuna grabs you before you fall.
“Did it just—”
“—stop? Yeah,” you say, squinting your eyes as they adjust to the darkness. “The power’s been fluctuating recently and the elevator’s been doing this.”
You become acutely aware of the fact that you’re pressed flush against your best friend’s chest, so you right yourself and pull back, his reluctant arm loosening its grip on you.
“How long does it usually last?” he asks.
“Not more than ten minutes,” you tell him. The ache of your legs makes itself known and you sit on the floor. There’s no use standing while you wait. “Sorry about this.”
You can see him shake his head, your eyes adjusting to the dark. “It’s fine,” he says, carefully sitting down next to you. He’s still pointedly far away from you. Not too much to be strange, but enough to not touch you, even by accident. “I guess we wait.”
You hum. “I guess.”
The two of you sit on the floor of the tiny box, occasionally shifting to stretch your legs, to look at your hands. The tension is terribly apparent, but neither of you has the nerve to address it. Every time you look over at Sukuna, he looks away, and when he tries to look at you, you turn to your side.
This little song and dance goes on for a while until—
“Do you just wanna talk about the kiss?” he asks bluntly.
You let out a relieved groan. “Yes please,” you say, scooching closer to him. “So? What did you think?”
He snorts, peering at you as you come close enough to brush your shoulders against his. “Of the kiss?”
“Yeah,” you say. “Am I a good kisser? I’ve never really asked anyone that before because it’s pathetic, but I’ve been dying to know.”
“I dunno,” he says teasingly. “Pretty sure I carried the kiss.”
You punch his shoulder. “You did not.”
“Felt that way to me.”
“You’re such a loser,” you tell him. You grab his shoulder and shake him around a little. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”
He plucks your hand off and interlaces it with his. A romantic gesture with anyone else, but a regular occurrence between the two of you. “You know, you’re a really annoying person.”
“Fuck you. You love me.”
His grip on your hand goes slack for a second as he looks away. You know that it’s dark right now and there’s really not much to see, but you spy the catch in his breath. You see the way he grows skittish as you tighten your hold on his hand. And there’s another thing, even more miniscule but incredibly obvious to you.
“Are you blushing?” you say loudly.
He pulls his hand away from yours and snarls at you. “What the fuck?”
“You are!” you say with a gasp. You point a finger at him, all childish and giddy. “You’re fucking—”
You’re cut off by his lips on yours. It’s harsher than last time. A stark contrast to the gentle nervousness of your last kiss. This time, it’s rough and wet and messy. And you hate to say it, but it’s incredibly hot.
You kiss him back, your hands going to his hair as he finds your hips, pulling you closer to him. You’re so caught up in the feverish haze of it all that it takes you a while to hear the voice screaming in the back of your head. What are you doing?
You press your hands to his chest and push him away. You blink at him in the dark, short breaths leaving your lips as you find him staring at you with an intensity you don’t think you’ve ever seen before.
“Sukuna,” you say quietly. “Are you sure about this?”
His eyes flick over to your lips then back to your own eyes, staring at him all wide and uncertain. “I—I don’t—sorry,” he says. “Do you not—Do you not want to?”
There’s something so sweet about the way he stumbles over his words, his hold on your hips going from confidently sexy to horrifyingly self aware. He leans back with parted lips. It’s like he’s waiting for your rejection, waiting for you to turn him down.
You lift a hand to cup his cheek and you chuckle. “I want to,” you whisper, leaning closer until your eyelashes flutter against his. “I just… this is a lot for me.”
“I know, I know,” he reassures you. His hand rubs your hips in small soothing circles as he looks at you sheepishly. “This is a lot for me too.”
You close your eyes and brush your lips against his. “Kiss me again?”
You hear him laugh. “Anything for you, tiger.”
The kiss is tender this time. Closer to your first kiss, but with the assurance that this is something you both want. You melt against him, hands roaming through his hair, across his shoulders, over the plane of his chest. He touches you softly, letting his fingers linger on the small of your back, up your spine, behind your neck.
Kissing Sukuna is like breathing, catching a second wind again and again with every touch of your lips to his.
You move against him, rocking your hips gently, little waves touching the shore. His tongue slips out and brushes against the bottom of your lip, a silent request that you indulge. Your hands are on his neck now, playing the short strand of hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him ever so close to you.
His touch trails down your back and lands on your thighs, fingers lifting the fabric of your skirt to touch your burning skin. His hands rub your skin, every now and then getting close to the space between your thighs, but never touching, never giving you what you really want. He’s so careful, so sensitive to doing the right thing and as much as you want to applaud him for it, you can feel the heat growing in your core. The frustration beginning to inch through your bones,
You detach your mouth from his and ever so quietly, you ask, “‘Kuna, can you—can you touch me?”
His hands graze over the fabric of your panties. “Here?” he asks softly, slipping a finger over the wet fabric.
A moan escapes your lips at the sudden contact and you hold on tight to him. “Yes,” you say. “Please.”
“You don’t need to beg, tiger,” he tells you. He pushes the fabric to the side and runs his finger along the stripe of your cunt. “All you gotta do is ask.”
He moves his mouth back to kiss you as he slips a finger inside of you, swallowing your whimpers. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he says, more to himself than to you. He presses his thumb on your clit, forcing a squeal out of you as he drags his finger in and out, in and out. “Do you like that, tiger?”
You press your face into the crook of his neck, panting as he works between your legs. “More, ‘Kuna.”
“Greedy girl,” he murmurs as he kisses your head. “I’ll give you more. I’ll give you everything.”
He pulls his hand off of you and you jerk back in confusion at the sudden loss of contact. “What—”
He guides you backwards and makes you sit on your knees. You place your hands on the floor behind you to prop you up, raising a brow in confusion. Just as you’re about to ask him what he’s doing, he ducks his head between your thighs, pushing your skirt up as he laps at your pussy.
“Oh shit,” you gasp, throwing your head back as his tongue sucks at your clit. Your hands fly to his hair and you pull, moaning when he slots a finger back inside you.
He pushes the digit deeper and curls it against a spot that sends you reeling. “Right there?” he asks, still intent on eating you out.
You keen with every move, with every brush of his finger against your walls, every kiss of his tongue on your throbbing clit. It’s too much, it’s not enough. The only thing on your mind is Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna.
“Are you close, tiger?” he asks. He slides a second finger into you and you moan, your hold on his hair only growing tighter. “You gonna come for me?”
You’re so caught up in your pleasure that the only thing you can do is nod and whimper. “‘Kuna, I’m so close,” you tell him. “Gonna come for you.”
“That’s my girl,” he says. He pulls his mouth off of you and replaces it with his thumb, rolling your clit beneath his finger as the other two continue to curl inside of you. He pressed his lips to the span of skin on your stomach where your shirt rides up. “Give me a kiss, tiger. Please.”
You open your eyes and groan at the sight of his cheek pressed to your stomach, looking at you with pleading eyes as his finger moves sinfully between your legs. You sit up, wincing as the movement sends his fingers diving deeper into you, and you grab his collar, pulling him closer to kiss you.
The kiss is more heated now, what with you getting closer and closer to your high, but it’s just as sweet. Just as gentle as earlier.
He moves his unoccupied hand to your neck, holding you close to him. “Come for me, tiger,” he sighs against your lips. “Want my girl to come for me.”
His words send you over the edge, a wanton moan tumbling out of your lips as you grab his collar, the only thing grounding you as your high descends on you, all intense and hot and positively electric.
Sukuna kisses you through your high, moving his hand from your neck to your back, fingers drawing up and down your spine.
When your orgasm fades, you pull your lips away from his and find him smiling at you. Not his usual teasing smirk, not his smug little grin, a smile of pure unadulterated joy.
“You good?” he asks, drawing his hands away from between your legs and letting them settle on your waist.
You giggle and nod. “I’m good.”
The two of you end up laughing, out of relief mostly but also a happiness that neither of you thought was possible. You settle on Sukuna’s lap, still facing him as he holds you to his chest, soaking in every bit of your presence, your touch, your everything.
“Thank fuck for broken elevators,” he muses aloud.
You chuckle. “Yeah,” you say, tilting your head to look at him. “Thanks for always showing up when I need you.”
He pecks your cheek, still smiling. “Anytime, tiger.”
You snuggle into him, wrapping your legs around his waist as you place your head on his shoulder. You’re about to close your eyes when you feel something poking at your ass—the something being his painfully hard dick.
“Is that…?” you ask, unmoving.
“Yup,” he says, voice a little strained.
“Do you want me to—”
“Nope.” Sukuna clears his throat. “Let’s, uh, wait to get to your apartment. Just ignore it.”
“It’s kinda hard to ignore.”
“Ignore it, tiger,” he says again, holding you tight so you don’t make any sudden moves. “It can—yeah, it can wait.”
You smile into his shoulder. “Whatever you say, ‘Kuna. Whatever you say.”
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notes. this is for all the sukuna girlies 😩
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i-yap · 2 days
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Batboys x quiet! reader(who is not quiet in private)
( some of the reasons for the quietness is a bit traumatic so uhh warning)
Dick grayson -
opposites attract is possibly my favorite trope ever. And that is exactly what you guys are . Not exactly golden retriever x black cat though people who didn't know you guys well assumed such .
Dick would get exhausted spending forever being charming and charismatic for even the most extroverted of people get tired when they had to manage multiple superhero teams, a detective squad and the whole batfamily.
You were silence, peace serenity almost..until you weren't. Grayson was worried about this relationship in the start, after all you guys were really different. He was afraid you were going to be annoyed by his sunshine self, and that when he isn't feeling like talking, the conversations would go silent.
But you really are so different when comfortable with someone, and its tough not to trust and drop your shield with grayson.
It took him by surprise slowly seeing you open up and show your weird side. It somehow made him cherish it more and even want to show sides of him that only you got to see.
When he asked you why you weren't like this with everyone you said " My parents had a habit of talking over me, sometimes outrightly not hearing me speak at all. No matter how loud I spoke..i wondered if they couldn't hear me...if anyone even wanted to you" "why me then?" asked dick , "you're nothing like my parents, I know you care" and he does..he really does. He won't ever let you feel like that every again. He will make sure everything you want said is heard, and if not he will burn it into the skyline
Jason todd
he appreciated it, a quiet person in public. He hated being in public, he hated the buzz the noise the push the touch of humans around him. He felt strange
till he feels you hold his knowing you felt just as strange as him. Leave the gala and walk around the library , one earphone in each ear listening to whatever you wished to play.
Pulling you close in crowded areas- was it for you or for him? Glaring at anyone who dared tease you about your quietness. A single glare usually does the job but don't worry ...other ways exist too.
He loves that when you two are alone, you are a completely different person. It makes him feel special, like he is the only one who understands you. Because you're the only one who understands him.
When he asks " well I guess I never felt like people liked what came out of my mouth.. my humour too dark, my words too dumb and I didn't make sense. So I stopped trying" don't worry about being cringe..he understands you completely
Tim drake
he is intruiged. How do you pull such a perfect facade. How does one look so poised and collected with those rich assholes and so wild and untamed with him?
He could never really perfect the act the way you did. He's seen you grow up, but somehow its like you were born with two people living in your brain.
If you're this mysterious to your childhood lover, how does anyone in the world even think that they could know you, both versions of you.
Dont get me wrong, he loved it, A mystery he never could solve, not even with your help.
" Teach me your ways master" "I remember you wanting me to call you that last night..oh no wait it was si-" "shut upp" "fine ill tell you timmy boy, I just believe those rich stick up their ass puppets don't deserve to see all ..this.." "what about school kids, friends , teemates-" "I don't need anyone to get me as long as you do"
He will never get it, even if someone engraved it into his skin he wont understand everything about you , you'll always be the case he couldn't solve.
AND WE ARE BACK BICHES , send in requests and stuff, inbox open again blah blah I'm feeling much better now but I might push angst stuff more
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poppy-metal · 1 day
Note
pls… for your consideration: ex/toxic baby daddy patrick 🤐
STAWP ‼️‼️‼️‼️ patrick is so deadbeat father who has a sudden realization he needs to get his shit together years later coded. like oh my god, i have a little babygirl and a hot wife and she sent me divore papers years ago but I've never signed that shit - we're still married - she's still my wife - thats still my kid -
its easy to hate patrick zweig from afar when hes just the man who broke your heart and left after he knocked you up - its not so easy to hate him when hes leaning against the doorframe of your home and then bending to his knees to meet the ball of sunshine thats your daughter - its not easy when you remember the nights spent dancing to electric music horribly until you collapsed into giggles into his chest, when you remember what his nose feels like skating up the collum of your throat, when you remember how he makes you laugh and how good he smells and how hes so intense, the way he looks at you, really looks at you and you want to sway into him, fall into his broad body and warm hands and feel him again.
but no. you have to remember the fights. the nights spent crying - while he lost himself in the bottom of a bottle - you have to remember the horror on his face when you'd told him you were pregnant like you'd slapped him. you have to remember how he left without a word.
he tells you he hasn't stopped thinking about you. he tells you he misses you. he tells you he was a fuckup and young and impulsive but he wants to try and be a man now, he wants to be a dad. he wants to take care of you.
you have the decency to wait until your daughter is tucked away in bed before you unravel. throw things. yell at him. tell him you hate him, he has no right to come here to you, to want to play house like its a game like its so easy. you dont need him. you dont, you've never needed anyone, especially not him.
he takes your anger - he lets you beat his chest. until you're wilted with exhaustion from it and then he reaches up to grasp your wrists. gentle. you startle to feel the wedding band around his finger - his eyes are sad. but he still has that fucking infuriating half quirk to his lips he'd always had.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"you can't fix anything, patrick. we're done. its over."
that fucking smirk. "yeah, we'll see about that."
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knavesflames · 2 days
Note
sucking arles dick???😁😇
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Hi!! Apologies this took so long.
Word count: 725
Contents: blowjob, tears, praise
[scheduled post]
Nsft utc!
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She’s gentle at first, her lips which are so usually set in a line turning up into a warm smile as you sink to your knees. Her eyes glint when your mouth instinctively opens at the feeling of her ever so gently tapping the tip of her on your face, and the second your tongue swirls over her, she lets out a breathless “good girl”.
She watches you with her lips parted, her eyes half closed and glazed with the pleasure she’s attempting to hide she’s feeling— she’s the fourth harbinger, known for being mad and cursed, of course she struggles to express her pleasure. At least, to begin with. She’s still, letting you work and get used to her because yes, she is bigger than average, and yes, it’s a struggle for you. With your head against the bed and your knees on the floor cushioned by a pillow (she’s mad and cursed, not cruel as some might think, though she enjoys the misconception), you know that once she gets worked up enough there’s no escape.
Her charred fingers grip the bedsheets, pink, just like you wanted them. You remember when you asked so kindly for them.
“Tell anyone that I sleep in a bed with pink sheets with flowers on and you’ll regret it, my dear.”
You, of course, promised you’d tell nobody. Though, you have to stifle a laugh when she’s grumbling about work and climbing into said bedsheets, her expression a stark contrast to where she’s about to hibernate for the night.
She can’t seem to help herself, you look so beautiful on your knees, and she starts gently moving her hips, grabbing your wrists with such care and placing them above your head. A loose grip, but a grip nonetheless and you know not to move them away from her. Her gentleness proves her love for you, but you know not to be disobedient (unless you want to cum so many times you can’t take it).
Her breath becomes heavier, quick puffs of air leaving her lips. She does not make a sound, and yet you can see how her cheeks begin to flush and her thrusts begin to speed up until they become more than gentle thrusts, but an attempt to get as deep into your mouth as she can. And when she finally hits the back of your throat, a groan does come out of her, though strained and muffled by how hard she’s gritting her teeth. She stays there, enjoying the sensation before you cough, your body heaving for a split second before she pulls back, bringing strings of saliva with her.
She gives you respite for only a few seconds before she continues, taking a step forward so your head is pinned to the bed, so you get to watch as she fucks your throat with reckless abandon in the hopes of chasing the high you both know so well. She hits the back of your throat again, and again, and your gagging and choking only becomes more prominent every single time your nose meets her pelvis.
“You take me so well, do you not, doll? Look at you, so messy for me. My pretty little whore.”
You attempt to hum in response, but she only groans again. Her grip on your wrists becomes tighter as she loses her sense of self control. With her ragged breathing and her eyes on you as tears prick at your eyes, she begins fucking your throat fully, shallowly thrusting and relishing in every single sound you make. Gags and choking and the lewd, lewd sloppy sounds echo the lavish bedroom, and before long, a few tears slip down your cheeks, mingling with the spit on your chin. Yet, the only thing you can focus on is her babbling praises, becoming more and more incoherent.
Her thrusts slow, but harden, and within a few more jerking movements of her hips, she makes a sound akin to a whine and a growl combined. You feel the strings of cum slide down your throat, and just the way she likes it, you swallow every last drop before she pulls out and bends down, her thumb swiping over your bottom lip to clear the drool threatening to join the mess on your chin.
“You did so well. So, so well. Come here, angel.”
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lovebittenbyevans · 3 days
Text
The Temporary Wife | One Shot
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Summary: All your life you was free to do whatever you wanted until your life began to change when you meet Charles Leclerc.
Pairing: Mafia!Charles Leclerc x Female Reader
Warnings: arrange marriage, angst, cursed words
Author note: I haven’t written about Charles in a while. Enjoy reading!
“What? No.”
“Yes.”
You wanted to scream at your mom but you were not about to embarrass her. “I am not marrying him!” You raise your voice at her.
She raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Yes, you will!”
“Are you going to tell me why?” You fold your arms across your chest. “Or do I have to call dad and ask him.”
Your mom sighs, “Just talk to–Charles is a good man.”
Here she goes making excuses
“A good man?” You can’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. “A good man to whom? That man is dangerous and always beating people up for money. Let’s not forget he uses women as well.”
This was beginning to feel a fucking comedy show. Your mom always thinks every man is good and has good intentions. Your mom never sees through anyone's bullshit.
“Y/N, please.” It almost sounds like she was begging you.
You roll your eyes and scowl. “Fine! I’ll talk to him but marriage isn’t in my favor.” You walked out of your moms study and made your way back to the living room.
A part of you wanted to run out the front door and never come back. This was not part of what you wanted to do today. You wanted to be with your friends in Canada for a nice weekend getaway but you canceled on them.
You sat down on the couch leaving space between you two. “Charles.” You didn’t dare to look at him at first.
“Y/N, I need you to pack your stuff.” He clears his throat.
You finally look at him puzzled. “What for? I am not going anywhere with–” He immediately interrupted you. “You are moving in with me and staying with me from now.”
Your eyes widen. “EXCUSE ME? COME AGAIN?” This time your voice got louder than before.
“You are moving in with me.” He said again. “A husband does need his wife to live with me.”
Your heart began to race while you were trying to calm down. “Fuck no! I am not going to marry you!” You'd rather marry Mickey Mouse himself before you even think about marrying him.
Charles's jaw tightened as he inhaled deeply. “Y/N, don’t be such a headache right now.” He was trying to keep his composure as much as possible.
You can’t believe this right now. Who in their right fucking mind would move in with him. You thought he must be on drugs or something.
“You will be my wife!” His eyes were fixed on you. “Now go pack!” Your jaw tightened as you got up off the couch and headed straight to your bedroom.
Fuck my life!
You didn’t know what you did to be treated like this with disrespect but you had a feeling all of this was your mom's idea.
Packing your clothes in a duffel bag, you hear a knock at the door. You didn’t bother to answer it while hearing the door open. “Sweetheart.” Your dad says.
A tear prickles down your cheeks. “I hate her. Why is she doing this to me?” You plop down on your bed and sniffle.
“Honey, your mother just wants–” You slowly glance at him and cut him off. “Do not give me no bullshit dad. What did she do?”
Your dad stood at the door hesitating when you heard his voice coming from downstairs. “Y/N, let’s go!” You sigh, quickly putting more clothes in your duffel bag and getting up from your bed.
“Baby girl I–” Your dad started to speak. “I love you ok.”
You zipped up your duffel bag and slung it over your shoulder. “There is no love anymore dad.” You stepped out of your bedroom and didn’t even say goodbye to your mom when you and Charles left out the door.
This was going to be your new life from now on
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hanni-bae44 · 3 days
Text
Title: Secret Admirer (Mark)
Pairing- Mark x fem!reader
Genre- high school au, friends to lovers, fluff
Word Count- 3.2k
Summary- You had a secret admirer who kept leaving notes in your locker. And thanks to all the clues he left behind, it didn’t take much to figure out that the culprit was your friend— Mark Lee— all along.
A/N- For the sake of the plot, this fic takes place in an American high school, you guys will see why as you guys read :) Anyway, have fun reading, love you all <3
-
Another love note. 
You stood before your locker dumbfounded. It had been two weeks of finding a note in your locker everyday. Sure it was flattering, but what if they were not your type? Or worse, a creep? Rejecting someone was just as hard as getting rejected. Okay, maybe not as hard, but it was still difficult. 
What if it was someone you knew?
A friend? 
So far all the clues you had about the secret admirer was that they were a boy, owned pink post-its, knew where your locker was, and in one of your classes. You also knew some irrelevant details of the secret admirer but it wouldn’t help you to crack down on the suspect, so you pushed it to a corner in your head. 
For the past week, you'd been observing everyone in your classes but you still couldn’t determine who the culprit was. There was no lingering stare or anything unusual that made you suspect anyone.
“Another one?” Chenle beamed, interrupting your train of thought. It was as if he came out of nowhere, making your heart drop from his loud voice. He pulled the note out of your hand as Mark stood beside. “So who do you think keeps leaving you these cryptic notes?”
“I have no idea.” You turned, leaning against your locker. “Part of me thinks it's a joke, maybe someone’s messing with me. Maybe it’s Haechan, he’s always messing with me.” Yeah, it had to be him. He was always the prankster. 
“Haechan messes with everyone, I doubt anyone would go this far just to mess with you,” Mark assured you. “The notes look genuine to me. Maybe they like you but they’re just shy.” 
“I guess.” Looking back at Mark, you felt deflated at the nonverbal rejection. A part of you hoped it was him but you supposed not. Mark didn’t seem too bothered that you had a secret admirer either. Any thought of him possibly reciprocating your feelings flew out the window. You refrained from frowning. 
“Hey Mark, read this,” Chenle nudged him with a grin, “Roses are red, violets are blue, I wish I could tell you how I feel, but for now I’ll just write my heart in this note with a seal,” Chenle read out loud in a teasing tone, “Isn’t that cheesy?”
Mark shrugged, pouting at the boy. “I think it’s romantic.” Then he looked at you. “Don’t you think so, Y/N?”
“It would be more romantic if I had a face to match the words too,” you droned. 
-
You checked your locker between every class. Some days the notes would show up early in the day while other times, it wouldn’t be there until your last period. 
Today, it was the latter.
B- Before I met you I didn’t know I could like someone so much. E-  Eager to express my feelings, a friend suggested I be your secret admirer.  A- Afraid of rejection, I started leaving notes for you.  U- Upon being near you, I can feel my heart beat.  T- The thing is, I never thought my feelings would progress this much.  I- I wonder what you think of me.  F- For now, I hope these notes are okay. I’ll tell you one day.  U- Usually, I’d just suck it up and say it, but you're special to me.  L- Liking you is too easy, saying it out loud is the hard part. 
Love, your secret admirer <3
Another acrostic poem, this time instead of your name, it was of an adjective. And instead of a post-it note, it was on a bigger piece of paper. You scanned the ink again and again, hoping for some clues that would reveal the culprit. But so far, nothing. 
“Whoever this dude is, he has game don’t you think?” Jaemin smirked as he stood beside you. He had been reading the note over your shoulder while breathing loudly at the same time. 
“If he actually had game, he would flirt with her right to her face and not hide behind a paper and pen,” Chenle insisted, taking the paper out of your hand to read himself. 
“It’s nice. I just wish I had a face to think off when I read it,” you sulked. “Am I that intimidating?” you asked your friends.
“Not particularly. You could ease up on that resting bitch face though." Jaemin said while shrugging. Chenle stifled a laugh while you scoffed. “Anyway, update me later on who the lover boy is, I gotta go,” Jaemin added quickly before jogging towards the direction of the buses with his other friends.
You supposed you should start walking to the buses too before you were stuck walking home. Chenle and you both began to move your feet.
“You still haven’t told Mark yet have you?” Chenle whispered as he nudged your side. 
“Don’t say his name,” you angrily mumbled, eyes scanning the crowd in the hallway. “People could be listening, and no I haven’t. If I tell him and he doesn’t feel the same, it’s going to be awkward, we’re literally in the same friend group.”
Chenle was the only one in your friend group that knew about your crush on Mark. You never wanted to tell anyone, especially Chenle since he was a blabbermouth but you were dumb. You left your diary at his house while doing homework together and he read all your private thoughts. Chenle could keep a promise but he also often spoke before thinking. The amount of times he accidentally spilled a surprise or a secret was too many to count. 
You stared solemnly at the concrete sidewalk ahead. 
Chenle snapped you out of your thoughts, placing a hand on your shoulder as encouragement. “Things only get awkward if you let it be. Plus, I doubt he’ll push you away if that’s why you’re hesitant to confess. You should tell him how you feel before it’s too late. The next thing you know we’ll all have graduated and he’s with someone else and you’ll be wondering ‘what if’ for the rest of your life.” 
“You’re one to talk,” you scoffed. “Don’t you like that one girl in our first period? If you don’t tell her, you’ll be stuck wondering ‘what if’ for the rest of your life,” you repeated his wise words back to himself. 
“That’s different,” Chenle narrowed his eyes. 
“Not really,” you deadpanned. 
“Whatever. Don’t tell him then. He has girls lining up to confess. He has options. Can’t say the same for you though.” 
“You suck." You lightly smacked his arm.
-
I rewatched the Spiderman movies yesterday. (The ones with Tom Holland) And it made me wonder if Peter Parker hates watermelon as much as you do. I promise it’s so refreshing if you get past the texture. You’re just like a friend I know, he hates the texture of fruit too. Except it's only cute when you hate it :’)
Another note. 
You found it weird with why he randomly mentioned watermelon— a topic that came up in the cafeteria yesterday. This had to be someone within your proximity during lunch. You’ve only ever mentioned your distaste for that watermelon with your friends. Was it an eavesdropper? Or was it someone at the table? 
You weren’t sure, but at least that lowered the possible suspects down.
At lunch, you brought up the topic of movies but no one mentioned Spiderman. Your friends were all too fixated on some new video game to care. Frustrated that your effort became fruitless, you began to chug your chocolate milk before taking a bite of your burger.
“Why do you care so much about what movie everyone is watching anyway?” Mark asked from beside you as he took a bite of his sandwich. 
You took the folded note out of your pocket and showed Mark. “My secret admirer just watched the Spiderman movies. He also likes watermelon apparently,” you sighed, watching as Mark read the note.
“Oh.” Mark handed the paper back to you then fiddled with the sleeves of his hoodie. “Well, I’m sure when he’s ready to reveal himself, he’ll tell you.”
“That’s not reassuring,” you deadpanned. “I want to ask everyone here right now if they're my secret admirer but what if I confront them and they’re too shy so they say it’s not them and the notes stop? Then I’ll have to graduate without knowing who the admirer is. It’s driving me crazy, I just want to know who it is, hell, I might even like him back, this is all just so annoying.”
“Trust me, you’ll know before graduating,” Mark smiled weakly. 
“How are you so sure?”
“I just know."
-
The blue dress you wore yesterday looked so pretty on you. The colour brought out your eyes. I tried to tell you in person but the words didn’t come out. For now, I’ll just admire you on paper. I hope you have a good day today. 
You reread the note over and over again, then you notice it.
The spelling of ‘color’ was in UK English and not American English which your school taught. You didn’t know anyone from the United Kingdom at this school. Could it be someone from Australia? They used mostly UK spelling but you didn’t know anyone from there so no. Could it be someone Canadian then? Canadians used a hybrid of American and UK English spelling to your knowledge so it was definitely plausible.
Come to think of it, some of your past notes had common words spelled differently from what you were used to too. You initially thought it was the cursive-like writing but then it hit you, it wasn’t misspelling it all, it was just the way Canadians spelled certain words. 
“The secret admirer has to be Canadian don’t you think?” you asked Jaemin, leaning against your locker with your arms folded over your chest.
“It makes sense.” Jaemin reread the note again. “Well we know Jacob Bae, Keeho Yoon, Mark Lee. Kevin Moon. Who else?”
Could it be Jacob Bae? That didn’t make any sense since though you weren’t close to him at all. He also had the second lunch break. There was no way he could’ve known about your dislike for watermelon.
Keeho also had second lunch.
It couldn’t be Mark though right? He sat near you during lunch but there was no way he liked you back.
Maybe it was Kevin Moon?
You had Kevin in your musical theater class but you rarely talked to him. He was also close with your friends and sat at your lunch table. But could he really be the secret admirer? You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look at you or care enough to start a conversation. He wasn’t a shy dude either, he just had tunnel vision, only talking with the people he was close with. 
“Maybe it’s Kevin,” you confided to Jaemin. It had to be. If not, who else would it be?
-
After lunch, you pulled Kevin aside from the students rushing out of the cafeteria. 
“Hey, so I know we don’t talk so this is a bit weird. I was just wondering if you were the one that has been putting these notes in my locker?” You pulled out the notes and showed him. 
Kevin looked genuinely surprised. “Oh no, this wasn’t me. It does look like Mark’s handwriting though.”
You took the note back and examined it. “Do you really think so?” 
"Yeah, I borrow his notes all the time and he writes his 'q's weird."
You nodded. “Thanks. Can you also do me a favor and not tell anyone about this?”
“Yeah, no problem,” Kevin said. 
-
Later that day, you had economics with Mark. He sat beside you, being your only friend in this class. 
“Can I borrow your notes?” you asked your friend, trying to see if the handwriting matched. “My handwriting is too messy and I forgot what the teacher had on the powerpoint yesterday.” 
“Sure,” he handed his notebook to you, then went through his bag for his other supplies.
You hovered over him as he dug through his bag, trying to line up more similarities that would prove Mark was the secret admirer. You watched as he reached inside his pencil pouch for a pen then you saw it. The pink post-its. The ones the secret admirer used. Your mind stopped working for a bit. Mostly because you couldn’t believe it was actually him all along. And that he actually liked you back. 
“Mark?” you muttered, brows furrowed. 
You wanted to confront him. You really did. But then he looked at you with those soft eyes and you couldn’t. Your mouth opened then closed again. 
Maybe it was just a coincidence?
He wasn't the only Canadian you knew and pink post-it notes were common. Right? You didn’t know what to think. When it came to Mark, you were always scared of crossing the line hence why he was just a school friend and not a close friend.
But then you thought about it. Your secret admirer seemed to like Spiderman. And Mark Lee loved Spiderman. He even dressed up as it for Halloween last year. The realization hit you like a truck.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly as the bell rang.
“Nothing,” you smiled weakly. “Thank you for the notes, I appreciate it.”
-
“You still don’t know who the secret admirer is?” Chenle asked as you walked alongside him to the buses. 
“I think it’s Mark,” you whispered. 
Chenle dramatically covered his mouth in shock. “Really?”
“Yeah, his handwriting matches the one on the notes.” You began to tell him the whole story from beginning to end of how you found out that the secret admirer was Mark, not leaving out a single detail.
"Did you confront him yet?"
"No."
“Why not? You like him too."
“I don’t know, I guess I was starting to like the notes in my locker.” You sulked.
Chenle chortled. “Man, you're like a broken record. Him too.”
“Can you blame me— wait what? What do you mean him too?”
“You know what? I’ll just tell you since you already know. That poem your secret admirer wrote to you? The one where it said his friend suggested he write notes to you? That was me. I knew Mark liked you so I gave him a little push. But don’t worry, I didn’t tell him you liked him or anything.”
Chenle had to be kidding. He knew all along yet kept entertaining you as if he didn’t. Who knew he was such a good actor? 
“I can’t believe you kept this from me! You knew who it was all along and just played dumb?!” You lightly slapped his shoulder. 
“Hey! You should be thanking me for being a good friend. Without my smart brain telling him to leave notes in your locker, you'd probably be crying right now just because you saw Mark talking to another girl.” 
You lightly smacked his arm. "And that's exactly why I am not thanking you." It was just one time that you cried watching Mark attempting to flirt with a girl last year. And Chenle would never let you live it down.
-
Wanting to have some fun, you decided to be a secret admirer for Mark. You even disguised your handwriting and slipped the note into his locker during class to avoid suspicion. 
The bell had just rang, and from afar, you watched as he opened the note then approached him.
“Looks like secret admirers are popular these days,” you said singsongly as you reached his locker.
Mark folded the note, then looked up at you. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“What does it say?” There was a bright smile on your face as you watched how he seemed so confused.
“Nothing.” He tried to hide the note behind him, but you managed to snatch it anyway. 
You look gorgeous today Mark. I wonder how we would look together. Have you thought about me lately? Because I couldn’t get you out of my head. Love, your secret admirer <3
“No way,” you beamed, “Who do you think is your secret admirer?”
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter.” He frowned. 
“Of course it does,” you teasing him. “It’s a lot of fun to guess who is writing to you. Imagine if it was a stranger talking about how good looking you are! Trust me, I spent all my free time just watching the people around me, hoping it wasn’t a creep saying he liked my clothing choices. It was thrilling!” you rambled in a sarcastic tone.
Mark looked tense, a bit guilty at that. “About that,” he sighed, hands running through his hair. “I know who your secret admirer is.” 
“Mark, I know you’re my secret admirer,” you finally said, tired of dragging this on any longer.
"Oh." Mark looked so cute as he chewed on his bottom lip.
“Why didn’t you just tell me that you liked me? Instead you watched as I stressed over who it was.”
“I’m sorry. I really never meant for it to get this far. I honestly thought you would’ve figured out it was me within the first week… Are you mad?”
“No, it was just annoying because I thought this guy was going through a lot of effort just to be rejected. But I’m glad it was you instead. You know how relieved I felt?” 
“Relieved?”
“Yes, because I like you too Mark. And according to Chenle, you liked me too?”
“He told you?” He whined. The tips of his ears turned red too and he looked so cute flustered. “I can’t believe it, he promised me.”
“Well to be fair, I already knew before he told me. I guess I just liked knowing you were the one behind the notes so I wanted to pretend for a while longer.” 
“So you’re really not mad at me?”
“No, I just wish you would’ve told me yourself. And by the way, that note you’re holding, I wrote that. I just disguised my handwriting.”
Mark relaxed as he looked at you with betrayal. “You’re so mean,” he pouted. “I thought it was from a stranger. It would’ve sucked to reject them.”
“Oh come on, you watched as I pulled my hair out trying to find out who my secret admirer was, and I’m the mean one? I just wanted to have some fun too.”
“What I did was cute and romantic, not revenge... I really didn’t mean for it to last for a whole month though”
“It is cute and romantic. Once I figured out that it was you and not some weirdo.” 
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. Without the secret admirer thing, I don’t even know if we would have our feelings out right now. You’re too shy to say anything and I’m too awkward. So I guess we have Chenle to thank.”
“I guess so.” Mark smiled.
“How about we meddle with his love life too?” you beamed, eyes sparkling with mischief. It was time for payback. “You know how he likes that one girl in our first period? He’s always encouraging us to confess yet he’s even more hopeless than us. How about we give him a push too?”
“Oh I like that,” Mark smirked, impressed with how your mind worked. “Let’s do it.” 
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biblio-smia · 2 days
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all these pictures of you
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tasm! peter parker x reader
summary: the amount of photos peter has of you versus him is a problem you've taken upon yourself to fix
masterlist | requests are open! buy me a ko-fi!
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a lazy sunday. a much needed one, considering the bruises peter had collected the night before.
damp air begins creeping out from under the bathroom door just as peter begins washing his hair - you can tell from the familiar crash of the shampoo bottle he always drops.
you fight the feeling of heavy eyes stubbornly, the sound of peter's shower threatening to lull you to sleep without him - only disrupted by the piercing ringing coming from peter's side of the bed.
it takes a while to track the noise of an alarm peter probably forgot to turn off in the mess of duvets, your fingers tapping the screen frantically once you find peter's phone.
there's only one big crack on his screen this time - peter's gotten better at taking care of his phones ever since he started calling you while out on patrol.
your own phone is elsewhere, either left behind in another room or out of battery and you need something to keep you awake until peter gets back. he should be almost done by now but each second feels like an eternity with such soft pillows under your head.
peter's password is muscle memory - if he could get your face to unlock his phone he would. instinct pulls you to the camera app to snap a few stupid photos but curiosity leads you to the contents of the rest of peter's gallery.
it's you, unsurprisingly. other than a few stray screenshots and some beautiful nature shots, it's you. you with a drink in your hand, you watching something on your phone, you with your back turned to peter.
dozens upon dozens, multiple scrolls worth of pictures of you - all of them probably the best anyone's been able to capture of you.
peter takes every picture of you with care - you're not sure there's a single photo where even the lighting looks off. even photos taken in five seconds tops were better work than you could've ever done.
you try to remember how many photos like these you have of peter. there's no shortage of photos of him on your phone but you're pretty positive the closest thing you've ever gotten is the photo currently on your lock screen - peter winking at you through a tall glass.
the bathroom door opens with a creak and peter sighs happily as he pads out of the bathroom, freshly washed and dried hair falling over his forehead even as he tried to push it away.
he's barely out a few seconds before he's jumped into bed with a groan muffled by the thick covers. it's not long before his face appears next to yours, sporting a cozy smile that makes your insides warm.
"watcha looking at?" peter hums, settling against his pillows and attempting to pull you into his arms.
he's surprised at your resistance, questions in his raised eyebrows as you only hum a response and lift yourself to hover over him.
you hoist yourself up and back up, aiming peter's camera carefully.
"what're you doing?" peter laughs, instinctively covering his face.
"shhh," you whisper, pulling peter's hand off carefully. you're really not sure how he does it but you do manage to get some photos of peter with a half-decent composition - though you'd argue that his face makes up for your lack of precision.
you let yourself lean into peter now, back to his chest with his arms wrapped securely around you as you analyze your new pictures. peter is greedy, nudging his nose into your skin right above where he kisses it.
"what's this about, hmm?" peter hums against your skin.
"nothing," you mumble, sending yourself all the photos. "you're just pretty."
peter's quiet, unusually so. his hand comes up from your waist to take his phone back and set it on his nightstand, arms coming to turn you towards him.
he's careful with you, hands holding your face, thumbs rubbing over your cheeks.
"come on, how can i not kiss you for that one?
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clairdelunelove · 2 days
Text
the way that yuuji becomes desperately eager whenever your kissing session with him manages to slip past the boundary of innocence.
it escalates into a scenario that’s directly ripped out of his wildest dreams. but don't get him wrong. he adores every and any type of kiss you grace him with. the casual kiss to his cheek whenever he brings you lunch. the comforting forehead kiss he receives when he’s had a particularly rough day. the teasing kiss nestled in the junction of his neck when his hands grip at you a bit too intimately in public. he’s over the moon. delighted and beyond grateful whenever he opens his eyes in the morning and catches a glimpse of you. whether you’re by his side or he’s waking up to a text from you in the morning. you’ve bewitched him to the point of no return. anyone can perceive it. how he’s brought to his knees by what he deems as the greatest gift in life— the opportunity to be yours. his love is unconditional, true, and pure. 
so imagine the epiphany that seeps within you when your sweet, doting boyfriend starts pressing searing kisses along your neck. it started with an innocent peck. he’s always naturally gentle whenever you’re involved. delicate touches despite the calluses on his hands from labor and strength. you had gently murmured your appreciation when he agreed to meet up with you so late during the night and spend some time with you. he vaguely remembers the reasoning behind your call, a brief comment about how you 'couldn’t sleep' and how it was 'nothing to be concerned about.' honestly, you just missed him. but he sprinted the entire way anyway. a figure with blushy pink hair weaving in and out of alleyways to cut across the neighborhood streets. too quick to actually notice unless you’re innately observant. he pauses in front of you, though. your wide eyes land on his flushed face as he sweeps a hand over his forehead to mop up the sweat from the intense run. and he’s even more attractive underneath the moon’s pale glow. in fact, his devotion towards your wellbeing meant so much that, by the time he can ask if anything was wrong, the two of you are stumbling through your bedroom door. 
it’s sudden. the bed creaks underneath yuuji’s added weight but it goes unnoticed by the male. or rather, it was the least of his concerns because now he’s focused on you. you’re so pretty. basked in radiance that knocks the wind out of him. causes his fingers to inch closer to you. and it’ll physically pain him if he doesn’t do anything so he encircles his arms along the curve of your waist, your hands are carded in his hair, and yuuji would be utterly stupid if he had any complaints. no, this was heaven. for some, this might’ve been labeled as a measly make out session but for yuuji— he believes that this is the bliss that people spend their whole lives trying to achieve.
he’s spiraling out of control due to your affection and soft noises. and clearly you’re not doing any better. your face burns in unabashed desire as he nips at your glossy lips and his next words have you keening. 
“sweet,” his voice comes out breathy and syrupy with want, “you’re so freakin' sweet.” 
lifting you by the underside of your thighs, he sets you down on his lap as a solution to close the gap. leans in to lick at your lips for another taste and pulls away with a dazed grin. there’s a dopey expression on his face. his pupils are blown wide and the tips of his ears are scarlet. vision clouded with you. feels the blood roar in his ears when he pushes the apex of your thighs down so your weight is entirely on him. a noise that borders a whine leaves his lips. and you can distinctively feel the heat of him underneath the thin fabric of your clothes. it’s hot and heavy. there’s no telling where you end and where he begins. 
“this can’t be real,” he chants, like he’s in disbelief of his fortune, “please let this be real.” 
and he’s reduced to blabbering now. brain short circuiting until he’s muttering about anything and everything that revolves around you. you’re soft, pliable underneath all his brawn. the contrast drives him to the brink— it always does. he lifts your hand to his face and presses chaste kisses up your arms. they’re soft, fleeting. that is, until he lays the flat of his hand against your lower back so you’re caving towards him. the squish of your chest on his is maddening. you feel like your body is on fire. wherever he touches you erupts in a warmth that won’t fizzle out and you know that you’re drowning in pleasure. but, like always, yuuji will be there to rescue you. 
“c’mere, pretty girl,” his fingertips brush alongside your hair, “wanna see you some more, yeah?” 
cradling your face in his hand, he squeezes at your cheeks until your glossy lips are puckered and willing. the epitome of tantalizing. his other hand snakes down to grasp onto the plush of your thigh and uses it as leverage to spread you open some more. unveil his present. you’re almost certain that the imprint of his fingers will be visible tomorrow but you can’t seem to care. his honeyed eyes are half lidded as he gazes at you. gulps to quell the tide of desire that flows within him. takes all of his restraint to be patient, let you adjust. he has all the time in the world.
vividly, he hears you panting; you’re breathless and shaky from his ministrations. falling into the delirium that yuuji casts upon you. yet, your fingers trail lower onto his abdomen, the muscles there involuntarily clench and he jerks forward to chase after your touch. he mumbles a quick apology only for his head to drop when you run an earnest hand over the same spot that has him seeing stars. a heady gasp escapes his lips, gets caught in his throat, and the obscene noise floods the room. the sticky sound rocks you to your core. 
your lashes flutter, eyes opening to glance at the door that’s left ajar, and shyly mention, “yuu. the door.” 
and it’s pathetic how quickly yuuji zips up to abide by your order. never allowing you to repeat your words twice because he’s actively listening to you. 
“right!” he stutters, a bit too enthusiastically considering that the change of pace makes his head dizzy, “I’ll close it.” 
moving awkwardly to compensate for the tightness in his lower attire, he gently knocks your knees when he stands and almost face plants as he scrambles to the door. sucking in a breath, he inwardly scolds himself for his clumsiness.
"way to ruin the mood, loser," he ruminates.
embarrassment evident in the way he catches himself before he trips due to his willingness to get back to you. so desperate, so eager to please you. naturally, you’re stifling a laugh when he shuffles back to you.
he plops down on the bed, clears his throat, and widely grins to point out the obvious, “I’m back.” 
and goodness, your heart explodes just from his presence. your sweet boy. you’re even more obsessed with him. his cheeks are a glowy, reddened hue. lips kiss-bitten by your undoing. he runs a hand through his frazzled hair, attempting to pat down the parts that stick up due to your previous touches and scrunches his nose when his actions are futile. you instinctively reach out to help and his eyes immediately soften. 
the boyish charm he has never fails to put a smile on your face and you’re replying before you can think better of it, “wanna continue?” 
and the next kiss you share is followed by an overly eager yuuji. it's filled with toothy grins and soft giggles— inherently him. your heart swells and soars.
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