#also noticing my head hurts so bad. can I just have One thing. why does it have to be so many | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

makethemhoesmad · 6 months ago

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love you till my lungs give out

paige bueckers x reader

word count- 2k(lord)

notes: this fic was such a great write for me, as it focuses around eating disorders, which is something i’ve personally struggled with. i know this is a sensitive topic, so please, if this makes you uncomfortable, scroll away, or read at your own risk.

thanks to: literally the biggest thanks ever to @melpthatsme for dming me your idea and helping me work through it, i really could not have done this without you, so everyone thank them

also thanks to @imaginespazzi and @bueckersstrap for reacting to my random messages about this

—

the first time it happened, i barely realized i did it.

“paigey, my head hurts so bad right now. like, im gonna die right here,” i groan, hiding my face in the fabric of her hoodie, trying to lock out any stray amounts of light coming from the covered windows. she runs her hand through my hair, and starts to ever-so-gently massage my temples. i sigh in quiet relief, and then she tries to pull me up to lay on top of her.

“uh uh, paige, no,” i say. i try to shake my head at her, but a bolt of pain flies through me, forcing my head back down.

“jus’ tryna help you get comfy, ma,” she whispers, bundling me up in a blanket and pulling me back into her side. she moves her warm hands up and under my t-shirt, but i squirm about, complaining that they’re too cold, even though i’ve never felt anything more soft and warm, so she moves them back over my shirt. but i don’t notice it, not really. and neither does she.

the second time, i know what i did.

“so, what should we order to eat?” paige asks, scrolling on her phone for different options.

“mm, what if i cooked here, for something different! i can make you a grilled cheese,” i joke, nudging her arm with my shoulder. “that’s all i know how to cook anyway.”

she giggles, standing up with me and following me to the kitchen. she hoists herself onto the counter, and watches me intently as i pull out the things for a sandwich. i grin at her, moving to step in between her legs and take her face in my hands.

“you’re so cute,” i say, pressing a kiss to her nose. she hops off of the counter and follows me to the stove. paige is just too sweet to me sometimes. i’m cooking dinner for her, the least i can do, really, and she’s cozied up behind me, arms around my waist her hands are barely touching, she can barely fit them around me and her chin is resting softly on my shoulder. she’s pressing light pecks to whatever area she can reach, and i feel at peace, in the kitchen, for a few moments. then it stops.

“why aren’t you making one for yourself baby?” she asks, spinning me around to lean me against the countertop, forgetting her sandwich beside her.

“i’m feeling, um, nauseous,” i stutter, stumbling over the excuse. she lets me go, though she looks skeptical.

“cmon, just have a bite of mine then. baby, you really need to eat more, that’s probably why you haven’t been feeling very well lately.”

i allow her to feed me a small bite, then quickly use my fingers to silently add that to whatever else i ate today. i read somewhere that to lose weight, you need to burn more calories that you eat. tomorrow, i need to burn around 800. Well, 804 now.

the third time, i think paige noticed something was up.

“ma, this is literally the fourth time you’ve said that you’re cold. just take my fucking hoodie, i’m actually begging you,” she pleads, taking it off and offering it up to me. i shake my head, again, and press myself further into her chest, rubbing my arms to try and make the goosebumps disappear. she pulls me into her, then moves her mouth to my ear.

“is everything okay baby? do you wanna go home?” she whispers, nuzzling my neck with her nose. i shrug, not wanting to make her leave if she wasn’t done chatting with people yet. she makes the decision for me, standing up and tugging me with her. her hand finds its way to the small of my back, and she guides me towards the door. i sway slightly as we stand, blood rushing to my head. i take it as my lack of protein, or anything really, catching up to me. she stops walking, lurching to grab me by both shoulders and bend to eye level with me.

“darling, i want you to be honest with me. what have you eaten today?” i shake my head, feeling my cheeks going red at the thought of her confronting me. i look down, trying to avoid eye contact with her as my eyes fill with tears. she wraps me up into a hug, planting a kiss to the top of my head. she pulls me to the car and helps me in, then climbs into her own door, but makes no move to turn the car on. instead she pulls out her phone and asks me “so, where do you wanna stop and pick up food on our way home?”

“paige, i’m really not that hungry, just tired and need to be with you in bed for the night. can we please just go home?”

she nods, but looks at me skeptically out of the corner of her eye. she must know that all i’ve eaten today is half an energy drink and a piece of gum. i’ll eat something with her tomorrow, i guess. we can go out to lunch together and then when she goes to the gym ill go on a run. then she’ll see that im okay.

the fourth time, or probably the fifth or sixth, really, i don’t notice it, so i don’t think she does either.

“cmere pretty,” paige mumbles, reaching her arms out to me from where she’s laying on the bed. i slowly move to lay next to her, but roll away when she tries to take my sweater off.

“hey, baby, what?” she whines, apparently frustrated by the lack of contact.

“i wanna leave it on, paigey,” i tell her, moving my hand into the waistband of her shorts.

“but i wanna see you, please baby,” i don’t like saying no to her, but this is one thing i very rarely back down on.

“uh uh, sorry. lemme taste you, though,” i respond, moving to tug her shorts down.

“nah, come and sit on my face, cutie.” she smirks at her own words, but i’m not laughing. i scramble off the bed, standing up to black spots in my vision. i stand still, squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the feeling. i stay there for im not sure how long, when i feel strong arms loop around my shoulders and help me onto the bed. paige helps me lay down, placing my head in her lap, then starts to comb through my hair with her fingers. she doesn’t say anything, and i’m grateful for that. obviously, she just thinks im tired. she knows im okay.

this time, im sure she noticed. it would be hard not to.

i’ve just come home from a run to the gym, dripping in sweat. it’s part of my new routine. i jog a mile and a half to the gym, i walk on a stairmaster or inclined treadmill there, then run home. normally i leave when paige leaves for practice, and come home just as she’s getting home, if not a little before so i can shower before she gets here. today, i must’ve done a little too much, because by the time i walk in the door, my head is spinning. i walk into the kitchen, sitting down at the island and resting my head in my hands, trying to clear my vision. i don’t hear when the door opens.

“baby, are you okay?” i hear. i sit up quickly, startled, then put my head back down immediately, because my vision goes nearly dark again.

“mhm, just tired you know? just got back from a run.”

“you’ve got to take a rest day sometimes, darling,” she coos, taking my face into her hands and pressing a kiss to my nose. i nod, knowing i won’t do it.

sometimes i don’t realize it, but she knows exactly what to do.

i’ve just finished cooking dinner, just some simple spaghetti and a salad. i place her bowl of noodles in front of her, then settle down with my salad. when i stand up to get a glass of water, then come back, i can’t help but notice she’s switched our bowls.

“paigey, could i, possibly, maybe, have my bowl back?” i ask, trying to seem lighthearted.

“oh, yeah, sure,” she answers, sliding it back towards me. but when i try to slide hers back, she stops me.

“nah, you eat that too. seems like you forgot to serve yourself noodles, so ill go make myself a new bowl.” she stands up, but i scramble in front of the stove quicker, blocking her way.

“why would you do that, when i made you a whole bowl? eat it,” i tell her, pointing back to the countertop. she lunges at me, lifting me easily and placing me on the countertop. why would she pick me up? she definitely thought i was too heavy. i bet she leaves after this. she drags her my bowl over, twirls a few noodles onto the fork, and begins to prod my mouth with it.

“cmon honey, just a bite. it’s not like it’s poison, you literally just cooked it,” she presses. i start to shake my head, so she moves the fork and instead swoops in for a kiss. i return her advances eagerly. hoping it distracts her. she moves her head down, pressing open mouthed kisses to my neck, and my mouth falls open. i don’t realize she’s noticed that until she’s setting the forkful of food between my lips and lightly closing them.

“it’s one bite, ma. let’s get it eaten, then you can be done.” i chew, not really having the choice to run and spit it out. once i swallow, she beams at me.

“such a good girl, baby. i’m so proud of you.”

at some point, she wins

“come here now, baby,” paige demands, grasping me by the waist and yanking me in front of her. i’d been about to climb into the shower when she spotted me through the bathroom mirror, stripped down to nothing. she’d grabbed me, pulled me into my room, and positioned us in front of the full-length mirror to the side.

“you see how perfect you are? how pretty?” she mumbles into my ear. i let my eyes flutter shut as she snakes her hand down my body, stopping to circle her finger over my clit. a groan slips out from my lips, and she stops.

“alright, i want you to keep on looking right in the mirror, ma. want you to see how perfectly you take my fingers.” i writhe against her, trying to keep my eyes open and hold myself up at the same time. she plunges three fingers into me. i cry out, locking eyes with her in the mirror, she smirks, the same way she always does when drawing a climax from me. i go boneless. if she hadn’t been holding me so tightly, i would be on the floor.

“now can you see how amazing you are? you don’t gotta change anything about you, i’ll love you no matter what. you should stop listening to what others say, because people that love you, like me, want you, no matter what you look like. i, personally, think you’re perfect. i’ll love you till the day my lungs give out, and even then, i’ll use my last breath to say it again.”

after that, it happens less often. some days, i still forget to eat, and some days even looking at a scale makes me want to throw up. but paige is always there. she’s always there to hold me, or help me eat just a little bit, or to help me lay down and relax after i’ve panicked so hard ive puked into the toilet. one day, looking at her from across the couch, i realize that when she told me she’d love me no matter what, she was telling the truth.

#mutuals💀#paige bueckers #ask #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #cellythe”goat”#celly😗#i love you sisterwifey forever <3 #anons😗

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sweetimpurity · 7 months ago

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I Think I'll Keep You 4

a/n: Thank you for your patience! More to come for this story, it's only the beginning! Finally got my new computer which will make writing much easier and more fun!! Love ya!

w.c.: 8.3k NSFW MINORS DNI rated p for plot

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

His eyes widen and he has to fight back more tears right then and there. You’re taking him to the hospital after all he’s done? After all he said? “Oh…” He mumbles, standing there ready to follow your lead. He’d follow you anywhere at this point. “I couldn’t sleep so… and I assume you couldn’t either.” You comment softly. The exhaustion written on both your faces. With midterms and classes, bad sleep and the emotional tug of war this week, you’re both due for a nap. But his hand needs to be taken care of first. He can’t keep walking around in pain like that.

“Does it hurt?” You ask as the two of you start walking down the hall. “No… it’s not that bad.” He mumbles, pulling his hoodie on and clenching his hand painfully in the pocket. “Don’t lie.” You say. Something you feel like you keep saying. Why is it so hard for him to just be honest? Even with himself. “It… it does hurt. A lot.” He finally says in a sigh, both getting to the elevator and going down in silence to get to the lobby. He’s looking down at the floor. Exhaustion etched on his face like yours. But you keep an eye on him. Observing his body language. All the things he’s not saying with words. He seems sorry. He seems heartbroken like you. But it’s hard to trust him after everything.

The two of you get to the lobby, hearing the rain pouring on the windows. The white noise of the rain would be soothing if it didn’t mean you had to walk out in that storm. “My car’s on the street.” You pull up your hood, keys jingling in your pocket. He just looks up at your face, nodding softly. He just wants to hear that you forgive him. That you don’t hate him.

You both head out, quickly marching down the walkway to your car. Each shielding yourself from the assault of pouring rain as you rush to the car already running. Finding warmth and safety inside away from the rain. As soon as you can see through the splatters on the windshield, you’re driving off, through the city streets to get to the emergency room. There’s no one on the roads this time of night. And you’re hoping there won’t be tons of people in the emergency room once you get there.

“Hey so um…” He starts, after a bit of silence, driving through the city streets. “I… I’m-”

“Let’s just get there, okay? Let’s just go and get there and…” You sigh, the words falling off. Not wanting to cut him off but also not wanting right now to be when you both have this conversation. He swallows thickly, nodding and falling back into the quiet of the warm car. Clenching his fingers in his pocket and bouncing his knee gently in anxiety. You notice it out of the corner of your eye. You seem to notice everything about him.

…

“...his hand, he’s been having swelling and bruising for a few days now…” You explain kindly to the receptionist once you’re both in the waiting room, standing at the front desk. Miguel standing a bit like a lost puppy behind you, listening to you talk to the receptionist there. “Alright, the doctor can take a look once she’s done with another patient. If you can just fill out these forms and have a seat, it should be about 30 minutes.” She smiles and hands you a clipboard and a pen. “Thank you. And could he please get some ice or something?” You smile and ask. The woman nods politely and going to grab an ice pack from the other room. You both start walking over to the waiting room area, looking over the form in your hands. Taking a seat by the fish tank and settling in to wait a little while. Miguel sits right beside you, running the good hand through his dampened hair from the rain. He glances down at the form in your lap. Then up at the side of your face. Wanting to reach out and touch your skin. Kiss your cheek. Remembering what it feels like to melt into your arms. Thinking of all the ways he can beg for, earn your forgiveness. Just as he’s about to speak- “Here you go…” The receptionist is there, an ice pack outstretched for him to take, breaking him out of his thoughts. He forces a smile, taking the ice pack and setting it over his hand. “Thank you.” He smiles gently. Watching the woman walk away.

He looks back, watching you write down his name on the form. Thinking he can probably do this himself. Before he can interrupt you’re asking him for the information.

“Birthday?” You ask, ready to fill it in. “You don’t have to do that…” He mumbles softly, reaching his left hand over to you. “You can write with that hand?” You ask him skeptically, raising your brow. It’s his right hand that’s out of commission. “We need this to be legible, I’ll just do it.” You wave him off and he sighs in sleepy defeat. Although he’s too tired to even care at this point. He’s more grateful that you’re even here right now, that he’s even here right now. That you’re helping him like this, let alone talking to him.

“October 13, 2001.” He sighs, watching your neat handwriting fill in the little lines. “That just passed…” You mutter in realization, writing the date down. “Why didn’t you tell me when it was your birthday?” You sigh, looking up and gazing straight ahead at the empty chairs across the room. “That was like… two thursdays ago…” You grumble. “Sorry…” He sighs, not knowing what else to say for it. He didn’t tell you because he didn’t think it mattered. His mind is a mess. You look over at him, seeing the look on his face. That he really is defeated. Not his usual self. “It’s fine just…” Your words trail off. The silence heavy between you two.

“You can tell me stuff like that.” You suddenly say much more confidently. Looking over at him, making him meet your eye. And he swallows hard, not knowing really what to say. “You were leaving the next day and I didn’t want to distract you…” He admits softly.

“Your birthday is not a distraction… it’s special.”

Special?

He nods, averting your gaze. Thinking to himself. There’s nothing special about him.

“Place of birth.” You ask. “Uh… New York…” He replies softly, shaking those thoughts away, adjusting the ice on his knuckles. Bearing through the ache that comes with the cold on the hot swelling. You write down the information, continuing on. He’s quiet beside you, only answering when you ask him for information. Because his mind is occupied mapping out things he needs to talk about. He wants to apologize again, for real this time and explain himself. That’s the least he can do. Even though he feels like he’s 10 years old again for some reason. Feeling like you’ll be upset with him no matter what he says. No matter what he does. And he deserves all of it.

“Emergency contact?” You ask. Distracting him from his thoughts. “Uh…” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Like your mom or dad or something…” You encourage, ready to write down whatever he chooses. “I… don’t want them to call my dad…” He admits softly, staring at the sheet on the clipboard. “So your mom then?” You assume, readying yourself for the contact info. “No…” He mutters, shaking his head, leaning back in his seat. Looking up from the form, you look at his face. Not quite knowing how to read it right now. You know he doesn’t like to talk about his parents at all. You’ve only heard about his brother and that’s it. But you didn’t think I’d be so bad that he doesn’t even want to call them in case of an emergency.

“Okay… that’s okay we can figure out something else.” You offer softly. For some reason, instinctively, wanting to protect him right now from whatever it is he’s feeling. When it comes to his parents at least. “Yeah…” He mumbles, staring down at the ice on his hand and folding the corner of the plastic, fidgeting.

You sigh. Not really wanting to get into everything right now. Just wanting to get back to your dorm and sleep. He needs sleep too. This week has been hell. So many weighted moments pass between the two of you. Silently sitting and listening to the bubbles in the fish tank constantly going. The bubbles disturbing the still waters surface and yet infusing the water with all the oxygen the life within needs. Disturbance pumping life into the already living. The living need disturbance to know they’re alive.

He hears the sound of the pen scribbling on the clipboard. Tired eyes looking over to your lap. The emergency contact. A lump in his throat watching you fill in your name, your address, your phone number. All for him. All of this for him? How could he even begin to deserve it? He feels a huge rush of relief and watches the pen tip move across the paper. Until it gets to “Relationship:”

“The doctor can see you now.” The receptionist suddenly says, bringing you both out of silence. Grabbing the clipboard, your keys, phone, standing up and ready to get this done and get out of here. Although there’s a part of Miguel that feels this is a last goodbye. Like things will never be the same after tonight. Maybe that’s a good thing.

…

“Alright, so the fractures are here… here… and then a smaller one there. And we’re going to go ahead with the plaster cast so we can make sure everything lines up nicely.” The doctor says, pointing and gesturing to the x-ray on the wall. It’s been about half an hour now of x-rays and examinations. He has two broken fingers and part of his wrist is compromised too.

“We’ll see how you do with the cast and have you come back in a couple weeks. There should be no reason for surgery if all goes well.” She says. Nodding to the two of you and grabbing some paperwork from the drawers in the room.

“Will he have any sort of pain relief while this is going on?” You ask, concern on your face. Miguel can see it. It makes his chest hurt. You’re such an angel and he’s such a dick.

“Yes, I’ll put in the prescription for painkillers and some antibiotics and you can pick it up tonight… I can send it to the 24 hour pharmacy pretty close to your campus if that works?… I recommend starting it as soon as you can and it will really help with the swelling.” She nods and writes down a slip for his prescription. “Thank you.” You smile and take the slip, Miguel soon following with his own quiet ‘thank you’.

“I’ll be right back and then we can get this cast on, okay?” The doctor clicks her pen, taking her computer and leaving the room to go get the supplies to make up Miguel’s cast.

If it were darker in this room, you’d be falling asleep. But the fluorescent lights blind you. Sitting in the chair next to the exam table, unable to resist resting your head on the table Miguel’s sitting on. Looking down at the almost finished document on the clipboard. Deciding what to write. It’s stupid, it shouldn't matter that much. It doesn’t matter so much if it’s just for his emergency contact; just that the information is in there. Girlfriend? No. Partner? Probably not. Where do you stand? More importantly… Where do you want to stand with him? It’s not just his decision at the end of the day and you’re trying to stop letting him call most of the shots. What do you want to be? Do you want to be his girlfriend? Do you actually want that? Or has his behavior over the past month and a half shown you that he can’t be a good partner even if he wanted to? It’s late; you’re tired; why must you make this decision right now when everything is still so fucked up? Closing your eyes, laying your head on the edge of the table, you’re playing a dangerous game. Will you be able to open them again once you pass the threshold?

“I’m sorry.” He says. Coaxing your eyes back open, looking over at him.

“Miguel-”

“Please… I need to say something…” He insists softly. Not looking at you, staring at the floor, trying to keep that list in his head. “... a lot of things…”

He sighs, rubbing his good hand down the fabric of his sweatpants, nervously. Like all the sentences he’s thinking are the most idiotic combinations of words strung together. You watch him a bit wide eyed, just waiting for the words to come out.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted. What I said. It was the wrong way to go about this… everything.” He sighs. Trying his best to be honest and hoping you won’t throw it back in his face. Why is that always his first thought?

“I was a jerk. And then when I tried to… apologize I just… was an even bigger jerk.”

He admits. Glancing over at you to see your reaction. Feeling an odd sense of ease at the soft expression on your face. You’re really listening.

“I was not drunk on Sunday. I promise you. I went to a stupid party and… had a few beers but nothing… major.” He explains. Checking off the boxes in his head. All the things that went wrong, all the things he needs to apologize for. You look down and back at him. Feeling both satisfaction from his explanation and regret over this entire situation.

“And Dana… she’s… always hanging around me and… but I didn’t do anything with her on Sunday. I tell her no and she's still just all over me and... I’m not sleeping with her, I’m not sleeping with anyone. It was just you.” He says, looking in your eyes. And you believe it’s true. That’s the thing you regret. Jumping to conclusions the moment you smelled Dana’s perfume on him. That probably wasn’t right to do and there was no reason for it. But his response to it all was still uncalled for.

“I don’t want you to hate me. Please… I don’t think I can take it. But I know I deserve it.” He whispers. Looking away, staring at the linoleum floor.

“Can I tell you something… personal?” He suddenly asks. His eyes locked on the checkered pattern on the floor.

“Of course…” You hum, giving him your full attention. This is a big deal. Getting him to share this much. Connecting with him like this after feeling so far away. He swallows hard. Thinking hard. Why must this all be so hard for him?

“I’ve never really been in a relationship before.” He admits softly. You’re shocked to say the least. He’s always been the player type and had girls all around him. But never a relationship? Not even in high school? Seems impossible for someone like him. “Hm…” You hum. Mostly to let him know you’re actively listening. And not judging.

“My parents um…” He starts, fidgeting anxiously. “Ever since I was little… like since I was born… my parents always… cheated on each other?” He admits. You’re stunned into silence and he keeps going…

“It wasn’t like… an open marriage or anything…” Your face softens in sadness hearing his admission. Your heart snapping in two. “Now that I’m older I know the language but… as a kid I never understood.” He explains. A thoughtful look on his face like he’s thought all of these things a million times but never uttered a single word about it out loud.

The correlation between the two admissions is becoming more clear. Never having a relationship because the one relationship he’s supposed to look up to, his parents, is filled with betrayal and distrust. “I’m not saying… that that’s an excuse I’m just… I-I don’t know…” He sighs, shaking his head.

You just listen and watch him in silence. Feeling three things. Honored that he would share this with you. Responsibility to keep this information guarded. And heartbreak, thinking about that kind of pain, and that he feels the need to explain all of this.

“You ever think about like… getting too comfortable and then… when everything goes to shit… that’s your own fault right?” He asks more directly now, looking over at you. Maybe he does want an answer. “Like when you tell yourself that someone really cares about you… and then turns out they don’t. Not as much as you think?”

“No. I don’t think that’s your fault.” You finally speak now that he wants an answer. Genuinely. He looks in your eyes. You want to hear more. It’s the most he’s ever opened up to let you in his head.

“I can’t let myself feel that way.” He sighs. Looking up at the ceiling and letting out a deep breath. You know this is really hard for him.

“You think I make you… feel like you can’t be comfortable?” You ask softly, trying to clarify, trying to understand him.

“No you… make me feel… very… comfortable.” He admits in a sigh. Like the words keep getting stopped but he pushes through, forcing them out. The words would be impossible if not for his efforts.

You pause, thinking about what he said. Remembering when he said you made him feel steady. That moment meaning so much more now. You make him feel comfortable but he can’t allow himself to feel comfortable?

“And when you started… trying to tell me how you were feeling…” He sighs. “I just panicked and…” His words trail off, you take a deep breath. Remembering Sunday night, asking him about Dana, about the beer, on the cusp of telling him you were falling for him. That confusion and anger. Remembering what he said about messy feelings, about not ruining what you two had. When he said you weren’t supposed to happen. It all makes a lot more sense now. "I don't know what I'm feeling... I don't think I ever really know."

“I think that’s why I usually only… spend one night with someone and then… it’s over. I’m an asshole, I know… I wasn’t thinking of you that first night. At least not at the start.” He admits. Which makes sense. He feels guilty knowing he’s never been fair to his partners or himself. Plowing through any sort of feeling that might arise. But when you came along, that all became much harder. Not harder; impossible. His feelings for you were impossible to ignore. “But you’ve never left my mind since then.”

“You’re the longest I’ve ever… stuck with someone I guess. Or that you’ve stuck with me.” He says softly. Stealing glances at you, fearing your reaction just a bit. You’re shocked to say the least. A month and a half? He’s really never gotten closer to anyone else before?

Being his. That’s what you’ve thought of all this time. Because that’s how it always was. He would ask you to be his, tell you to admit it and you always said yes, you always complied. Because you wanted it to be true.

“Are you afraid that if you and I were together… that I’d cheat?” You ask, being careful around his feelings. Thinking he must be afraid to go back to those feelings brought by his parents. When they cheated on each other, they cheated him too. You want to treat his feelings with sensitivity unlike everyone else it seems.

He’s silent for a few moments. Thoughtful. “Maybe. Probably.” He admits. Which is reasonable if he’s been dealing with those kinds of trust issues since he was a little boy. “But I think I was… just scared to lose you. Like losing you is scarier than not having you at all.”

“But I couldn’t not have you. I couldn’t.” He sighs. “I was selfish and I’m sorry.”

He stares at the floor, all regret and heartbreak. So many things laid out in the open. You almost don’t know what to say. Almost.

“Miguel…” You address him, standing up and stepping around the small room for a moment. Then focusing back on him.

“I forgive you.”

He instantly looks up at you. He could cry. Relief in the purest form shot right into his soul.

“I can’t relate to your feelings with your parents and… everything. But that doesn’t mean I can’t understand. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to understand.” You say softly. He nods in understanding. His heart feeling a lightness he hasn’t felt since… ever.

“Being with you made me… feel confident and… wanted? I guess… no one’s ever made me feel that way before.” You admit. Sharing your own confessions. His eyes follow you every step around the room as you pace and speak. He’s surprised to have caused you anything but pain.

“I really liked you… even before all this started… even though I didn’t even really know you,” You sigh and chuckle softly at the thought. Knowing you fell in love with him when it felt like he wanted no one but you. And that might have been true but you were in love with the idea of him. The idea that someone like him would be in love with you.

“But I realized that the image of you that I have in my head is nowhere near who you really are. And I think you did the same for me.” You explain. He nods, knowing that’s exactly right. His first chapter with you is an unreliable memory.

“So I forgive you.” You nod. And he just looks up at you in awe. Like his heart will explode. He’s never felt this way before. Ever in his life. Is this what it feels like to be in love? To fall in love? Has he been falling all this time and now he’s completely fallen?

There’s a knock at the door. An interruption to this discussion but your words echo in his mind. And he never wants to forget them. “Okay, ready to get started? We’ll do this nice and quick and you guys can be on your way…” The doctor smiles, wheeling in a tray of materials and supplies. “Thank you” You smile and nod, moving over to make room for the doctor’s supplies; standing next to where Miguel is sitting to watch the process; mainly out of curiosity. You keep an eye on Miguel’s face. Seeing he’s still deep in thought. It’ll take more time to understand him, but tonight is a good first step.

You watch the doctor start the process, absorbing the information she’s explaining, the instructions for care and the longer term things. Follow up appointments and such. You make sure to listen because Miguel doesn’t seem like he can listen very well right now.

You watch his uninjured fingers still fidgeting with the hem of his pants. And for the second time you want to protect him. You want to make him feel… comfortable. You realize. That’s what he needs.

You reach across, taking his left hand in yours. Causing him to look up, squeezing gently as his fingers eagerly lace with yours. And it’s like all of a sudden he can feel the table under him, he can hear the doctor’s voice, he can feel the sleeve going on his arm, he can feel the pain in his hand. To get out of his head and come back into the real world around him. That’s what you’ve always done. You’re like an escape and you didn’t even know you were doing it. He didn’t even realize. Imagine how things could be if he just opened up. If he wasn’t afraid of how you’d react. If you’d put him down, chastise him for his feelings. Like he alway has been all his life.

“Miguel?” You hum, to get his attention after the doctor's attempts. The noise of his thoughts muting at the sound of your voice. “Hm?”

“What color do you want?” You ask softly, gesturing to the doctor holding out samples of the cast wrappings. Your thumb rubbing gently over the back of his knuckles. He can feel that too. “Oh uh… I don’t know.” He shakes his head slightly, feeling so overwhelmed in both good and bad ways. Overwhelmed with his feelings of love and fear. “You could get blue for the team colors…” You suggest with a soft smile, thinking of his soccer uniform, looking over the options that the doctor has laid out. Treating him with tender care, wanting to do it, no matter the things that have happened. It’s all in the past now. He smiles softly at your cute suggestion. “Yeah sure, blue is good…” He nods a slight smile at the doctor's kindness and patience. She nods and gets to work. Wrapping his cast up and letting it all set and harden. The blue material going from his fingers nearly up to his elbow.

“Alright, your 4 week appointment is all set, and you have the slip for the prescription. Come back if anything happens, or if you have any questions just call the non-emergency line.” The receptionist says. A kind smile on her face, looking up at the both of you, two kids tired out of their minds, hanging onto life and each other by a thread at this point. “Thank you very much.” Miguel nods with a smile. His injury now supported, already feeling less like it’s just hanging off his body.

You hand over the clipboard. Realizing you never decided on it. The relationship. Because it’s complicated. And you figured a blank line is better than a scribble of eraser marks.

“Have a good rest of the night… or morning I suppose.” She nods. Because yes, it is 4 a.m. at this point.

Leaving through the automatic sliding glass doors, stepping out into the very early morning. A soft glow of the imminent rising sun lighting up the sky. But it’s still very dark out. The birds haven’t even started to wake up and beckon the morning. He walks up beside you as you both head into the parking lot to get to your car. It’s still sprinkling slightly, some far away thunder rolling.

“How does it feel?” You ask, looking over and seeing the blue material on his arm peeking out from his sleeve. “Feels better than before… still hurts.” He sighs, taking a few longer strides and reaching the driver door first. Opening it for you. “Do you want me to drive?” He offers softly. “No, you only have one hand.” You quickly refuse.

“I can drive with one hand… and you’re tired.” He insists gently. “You’re tired too. And you have broken fingers.” You smirk, winning this, getting into the driver's seat. He huffs out a breath of laughter and relents, closing the door after you and walking to the passenger side.

“Take this…” You flail the prescription slip in front of him. His eyes blinking tiredly and he traps the piece of paper between his good fingers. Brow furrowing in focus and reading the information. It’s a bit blurry since he doesn’t have his contacts in. “Let’s go get that acetaprofin…” You sigh, turning the car on.

“Wait, what did I say?” You look at him, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Acetaprofin?” He asks with a smile. “You mean acetaminophen? Or ibuprofen. I think it says acetaminophen on the sheet.” He can’t help the giggles that erupt in his chest. Beyond exhausted, the both of you. “No! I said that! I said acetaminophen.” you giggle, looking over at him, watching him starting to lose it with laughter.

“Nooo you didn’t…” He teases, wiping his eyes from laughing. “You said acetaprofin which is like… some acetaminophen and ibuprofen hybrid.”

“No I didn’t. Gimme that!” You snatch the paper out of his hand and point to the drug name on the sheet. “A-ce-ta-min-o-phen.” You sound it out as he’s giggling, not even looking at the paper, he’s looking at you. “I know what it says. That’s not what you said.”

Your eyes light up watching him smile and laugh. “Maybe not.” You admit, smiling. You can’t help but laugh yourself. It’s not even that funny, you both know that. But you’re both so tired, everything is funny. “Well science boy, maybe you should do your thesis on acetaprofin…” You joke.

“Yeah, I’m sure Alchemax would love that. A thesis on combining two drugs that do pretty much the same thing…” He sighs, the both of you coming down from a laughing fit. Sitting in your running car, in the corner of the emergency room parking lot, in the middle of the city, at four in the morning.

“Hah…” He sighs. That laughter was much needed. For both of you. “Y’know… we don’t have to go get it now. We can just go back to school. I can get it myself another day.” He says. Knowing you’re both exhausted and feeling bad for keeping you awake for so long. Although he does enjoy spending time with you again. Feeling like he doesn’t have to put his shield up. It’s harder to do when you’re not having sex. When he’s just being purely himself. It’s a new feeling.

He feels a little strange. Not just because he’s running on fumes but because of what he told you. But you don’t seem to be treating him any differently. If anything, it’s just making him feel a little closer to you. He’s never felt something like that before. Like you could be… someone he confides in. The first person on his mind. That’s what’s happened for the last month and a half anyway.

“No way… we’re getting your damn acetaprofin if it’s the last damn thing I damn do.” You protest, putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot. On a mission. A mission of pain relief.

“Picking up for O’Hara?” You say at the pharmacy desk, the old woman behind the register typing into the old computer to bring up the prescription. “Date of birth?” She asks, looking at the two of you over the edge of her glasses. Miguel steps forward to answer.

“08/13/2001.” You state before he can. A satisfied smile on your face for knowing his birthday now. Even if he didn’t tell you the day it was happening.

“It’s just been sent in… I’ll make it up for you.” The old woman says, her New York accent quite thick. And she moves around slowly to go make up his prescription acetaminophen and antibiotics. “Okay thank you.” Miguel smiles. The two of you having to wait some more this morning.

…

“Strawberry or Cherry?” You sigh, holding out two packs of twizzlers in front of him. The two of you migrating to the candy aisle and looking through the endless sweets. “Strawberry obviously.” He nods, pointing at the pack, keeping his cast wrapped arm close to his chest, a sign to you that the pain is in fact bothering him. “Obviously.” You nod. Totally agreeing.

“Ha. I had to give my brother the heimlich once with one of these.” You cringe and hold up a box of Lemonheads. “Oh no, really?” His eyes widen, meeting your eyes. What if that had been Gabriel?

“Yeah, and then my mom banned them from all the kids…” You giggle, putting it back on the shelf and looking at another candy item. He grins at the thought, imagining what your family must be like. After all the little things you’ve told him. Your parents and siblings. It’s like a different world he’s never stepped into before.

“This is Gabriel’s favorite…” He nods and points to a box of warhead hard candies on the shelf. “We used to have competitions” He smiles, looking at you. “Oh the ‘see who can hold it in their mouth the longest without spitting it out’ competition? I know it well…”

“Mhm.” He nods, enjoying feeling like he can be similar to you in some way. He does love Gabriel a lot and hearing the way you’ve always talked about your own family makes him feel good. Even if his own family doesn’t feel like much of a family at all.

…

“These lights are so bright.” You huff, crouching down and looking in the makeup aisle. Miguel leaning against one of the shelves and trying not to fall asleep standing up. “Which one… on my skin?” You sigh, grabbing two blush shades, standing up with whatever energy you have left. Holding them up to him. He blinks tiredly and takes the two small things from your hands, walking right up to you and holding them up to your cheeks. “What am I looking for?” He asks, holding each one on the sides of your cheeks. Your eyes closed.

“Just for… which one matches best for my undertooooones…” You drawl with eyes still closed, feeling the backs of his fingers on your cheeks. “Undertooooones…” He echos softly and teases. “Hmm…” He hums, looking back and forth and then just looking at your face. Your lashes, your lips. Feeling like he could just kiss you right now. It would be so easy to just peck your lips.

“So?” Your voice brings him out of his thoughts. “Uh I think this one… I don’t know. That one is pretty.” He sighs, ignoring the urge to kiss your lips. Knowing he probably shouldn’t. But he wants to. Your eyes flutter open, causing his heart to flutter at the sight. Your hands coming to grasp his wrists. The two products in his fingers. Looking down at the one he chose. “Yeah, I like that one.” You nod and he adds it to the small pile of candy and miscellaneous things you’ve both picked out around the store.

…

“Mm this one is good…” Miguel holds a bottle of shampoo over to you. Letting you smell it. “Coconut Milk and turmeric…” You mumble, reading the scent on the bottle before clasping your hands over his hands around the bottle and smelling. The rim of the bottle touches your nose, getting some soap on there. “Ah- yeah it smells good” You giggle, shampoo above your lip. “Oh no sorry…” He laughs, the two of you deliriously tired. His other hand comes up to wipe the soap off, rubbing over the ridge of your lip and getting it off. All while you’re both quietly giggling among the shampoo selections.

“Are we being too loud?” You giggle, whispering and looking up at him. There’s no one else in here it’s so late but still you’re both giggling endlessly in the aisles. “Probably…” He whispers, putting the shampoo back on the shelf. The two of you standing close, huddled next to the shelves and aimlessly looking around waiting for his prescription to be ready.

…

“I didn’t know they sell vibrators at the drug store…” You comment. Wandered into the aisle of sexual health and products. Staring up at the row of vibrators on the top shelf, kept in those plastic cages. Needing the employees' help to unlock it. “I guess… maybe people need it… for medical… things.” He sighs behind you. Like zombies, the two of you.

“What kind of medical things?” You raise a brow at him, turning around to face him. He takes a closer look at the boxes, lifting one toy and reading the back of it.

“Mm… neglected clit disease?” He jokes, looking up in your eyes. A smug look on his face and a smile spreading over yours. His eyes gleaming watching you laugh. “Stupid boyfriend syndrome?” He adds. “Yeah possibly…” You nod.

“Boyfriend with broken fingers disorder.” He smiles a goofy grin, holding up his cast and shrugging. His poor broken fingers. Boyfriend.

“Yeah you’re right… it’s on the rise…” You laugh softly and nod. He nods, reading the back of the box and turning to look at the other models on the shelf.

Your eyes scan over the side of his face as he turns. Wanting to reach out and run your hands through his hair like you’ve done so many times before. But it’s never been like this before. Just the two of you like this. Like friends. But there’s something extra obviously because you’ve seen each other naked more times than you can remember. But being away from him was like rehab from an addiction. An addiction to him, the feeling of him, the way he can make you feel.

You roll your eyes and smile. Turning to leave the aisle. He smiles that same grin. Watching you start walking, he looks down at the box in his hand. Piling the vibrator on the stack of items in his arm with a smirk on his face. Among the candy, makeup, shampoo and miscellaneous things you’ve both picked out, the sex toy like a cherry on top.

…

He smiles watching you huff and sit down on the floor. Right in the middle a different aisle. Paper and stationary on one side and birthday cards on the other. Tilting his head and looking down at you on the floor. Sharing your exhaustion. “How does it feel?” You ask and he walks over, sitting down in front of you, criss crossed and facing you. Setting the items down on the floor too.

“It hurts…” He admits, not feeling the need to lie about it. Not anymore. You nod and yawn. Looking over and seeing a pack of black sharpies. Leaning over to grab it.

“Can I write on it?” You smile and brighten up at the thought. “My cast?” He grins and watches you. Your excitement.

“Yeah a little message or a doodle” You pull open the pack of markers. Planning to just pay for them on the way out. “Fine, just no dicks, okay?” He teases and you feign disappointment at his request. He scoots closer to you as you hold out the sharpie for the blue material on his arm. “Hmm…” You think of what to write or draw for your masterpiece. Since he’ll have it on there for a few weeks you want to make it count.

He’s just smiling, watching your pretty face as you think of what to write, his arm draped over your lap and your fingers dancing over his upper arm to hold it in place, pen in hand.

You start shaking your head and he can tell you’ve thought of something. “What?” He grins. “No… nothing.” You smile, shaking your head. “Come on… do it. Whatever you thought of, just write it.”

“No I can’t.” You smile nervously, looking up in his eyes. “Yes you can.” He replies in the same tone. Gesturing to his cast. “Write it.”

“Close your eyes.” You demand and he does so. His eyes fluttering closed. A smile on his lips. You debate it for a second. The thing you thought of was originally sort of supposed to be a joke but it could also not be a joke at the same time. You don’t want to make things awkward or more complicated. Shaking your head, you decide to just do it. Maybe he’ll laugh. The felt tip scratches on the hardened blue material. He waits patiently with eyes closed until finally…

“Done.” You sigh, already feeling embarrassed. But it’s on there and it’s permanent. His eyes flutter open, searching the cast on his arm. Eyes scanning over the black cursive letters. Just one small word.

Mine.

His eyes lock on the word. Reading it over. Over and over then looking up at you. After all that’s happened, all he said, all that went on. You know and he does too, that you’re being very generous with your heart. As you’ve always been.

“I like it…” He hums softly, nodding and looking back down at the writing. After seeing that slight blush of embarrassment on your cheeks.

Is this all he’s ever wanted? To be yours. And for you to be the one to make it so? All the times he made you his, all the times he claimed you, took you, those times don’t compare to this one. This little word, written by your hand, from your mind, your heart. He won’t take it for granted.

“I should’ve just drawn a dick…” You shake your head and smile. The tension dissolving then. Meeting his eyes for a moment. Unable to hide the bit of embarrassment. You don’t want to repeat patterns of the past. But you also want to be honest about your feelings. “Fine, you can draw a dick.”

”Really??!”

“No!!” He laughs. “I was just kidding!”

“No, you said it so I can do it!”

“No no no, I take it back!” He refuses with a smile, shaking his head and laughing, his eyes locked on your smile. Again, he just wants to kiss you. To kiss you again after feeling like it’s been forever since he’s had the chance. “Come onnnnn…” You smile and he shakes his head, wanting to take your face into his hands and kiss your lips. It almost makes his heart sore, knowing that he really shouldn’t do it. And he’s trying to be careful. Holding so tightly onto this olive branch.

“Let’s go see if it’s ready now, yeah?” He suggests, needing to change the subject for his own sake. “Fine…” You whine, watching him rise, accepting his hand when he stretches it out to you to get up from the floor.

…

You both watch the old woman scan the items and the prescriptions. Rolling your eyes at Miguel’s smirk when she scans the vibrator, taking off the protected cage around the box. The woman having absolutely no reaction to the item. She just doesn’t care, not at this hour and probably not at any other hour either.

You look for some money to pay for the makeup and the things you picked out but before you can he puts his card in the machine, reaching his arm around your waist to press the numbers. His chest pressing to your back slightly. You watch the thick black card go into the machine. The numbers going in and the ding when it accepts easily. “Thank you, have a nice night.” The woman says, her voice low and gravelly but she’s been kind overall.

“Thank you.” Miguel nods and grabs the bag off the counter after taking his card back. “Thanks!” You smile and start walking, with him right beside you. “Where’s the receipt? I can give you some cash for my things…”

“Don’t worry about it.” He assures. Shaking his head and holding the bag of items in his good hand.

“If you say so…” You sigh, walking beside him as you both leave the drug store. “Thank you…”

The sun is just starting to light up the early morning sky now that it’s about 5 am. Birds starting to chirp. “I need to sleep.” You sigh, getting in the driver's seat. And Miguel in the passenger seat with the bag of things on his lap. “I can drive if you want…” He offers again with a yawn, stretching his back slightly, his head against the headrest. “No it’s fine, it’s only a few minutes…” You assure him, buckling up and starting the car to get back to the dorms.

You start driving, pulling out of the parking lot and turning through the city streets. There are a few cars out but nothing compared to the morning rush to start in a few hours. The city slowly starts to light up with the sun. It’s not even over the horizon yet, just lighting the sky with anticipatory sunshine. He’s stealing small glances at you as you drive. Feeling funny inside. He doesn’t know quite how to place this feeling. It doesn’t feel bad, he knows that much.

“So it says… take two of these… and one of these morning and night.” You read the prescription bottles for acetaminophen and antibiotics. Standing at the door of his dorm room, in the doorway and giving him the slip from the doctor to have. “Thank you.” He nods softly, genuinely. Although that one thank you doesn’t even cut it. He doesn’t think so.

“I can’t believe we literally stayed up all night doing that.” He sighs, walking into his dorm. Glancing back at you and trying to be subtle, wanting to see if you’ll follow him inside. Only wanting you to do it if you want to. You follow him in, replying in similar disbelief, not noticing his glancing and watchful eye. “I know, well we had to wait so long for everything.” You huff, sitting on the edge of his bed and grabbing the bag of things when he drops it next to you.

You grab the pack of twizzlers and watch him take the prescription bottles to swallow his pills. Eyes widening in realization when he takes a pair of round framed glasses out of a case on his desk. He puts them on, reading the small print on the bottle. And you try to suppress the biggest smile. He wears glasses? How did you not figure this out? Regardless, he’s adorable.

“Do you need any help?” You ask softly. Watching him trying to maneuver the lock top with one hand, eventually trying to hold it between his knees and undo it with his good hand. “No thanks, I got it.” He looks over at you, instantly doing a double take seeing the way you’re smiling at him. Or the way you’re obviously trying not to smile. What’s got you smiling all pretty like that?

“I like your frames…” You smile and comment, his cheeks instantly reddening when he realizes that’s why you’re smiling. Looking over at you like a deer caught in headlights and the top of the bottle finally pops off, he flinches trying to keep the pills from spilling all over the floor. “Oh, thanks.” He smiles bashfully, feeling a bit embarrassed but he can’t help stealing glances at your face when you're smiling like that.

You smile softly, feeling a bit sympathetic to him having to learn a whole new way of doing things. Only a little bit though since he is the one that punched his own locker in.

“Sorry if your sleep is fucked for the rest of the week…” He clears his throat, getting some water to swallow his pills. Turning for a second and trying to stop the hot blush on his cheeks. You’re the only person who’s ever made him blush like that. Just by looking at him. You watch him from the bed, biting and pulling the strawberry licorice candy, the only thing you’ve eaten all night. “It’s fine… it needed to be done.” You nod. Not feeling resentful or upset with him. It was your choice to show up after all.

“Well thank you” he smiles over at you, situating a few things before walking over to the bed, sitting next to you on the edge and grabbing a piece of candy for himself, biting a piece off and sighing, flopping back to lay down on top of the blankets. You do the same, mirroring his action, laying down on your back and biting your candy as well. The two of you just lying in silence and exhaustion.

“So… we can be friends right?” He suddenly asks, you look over to see he’s on his side facing you. You take a moment to think. Friends is better than what’s been going on for months. You roll over too to face him, biting your licorice and thinking. “Yeah… I think so.”

He smiles softly, nodding with relief.

“Just don’t lie to me again.” You say and his expression turns serious, understanding. “Just be honest with me and I’ll do the same. Tell me how you’re feeling. I’m not the kind of person to… judge you for your feelings, y’know?” You say like it’s some casual thing. Not seeing how it’s affecting him. But he could cry if he let himself. He feels like he’s dreaming.

I should tell you how I’m feeling. I should tell you that I’m in love with you. I love you. I love the way you speak to me. The way you make me feel. I love the way you care for me. The way you think of me even when I can’t think for myself. The sound of your voice, the feeling of your hair between my fingers. The memory of your heartbeat against my chest, your fingers on my back, your breath on my neck. The look in your eyes when you’re laughing; your smile. The tone of your voice when you sigh my name. I thought I wanted you to be mine. And that might have been true. But I wanted to be yours all the more.

But he doesn’t say any of that. He just nods and smiles softly, grabbing another piece of candy and stealing small glances your way. Laying beside one another as the early morning goes by, the exhaustion overtaking the both of you in time. Soon you’re both asleep. 5 am. 6 am. 7 am and into the morning. Catching up on the lost hours. But not regretting a single moment of this night. 8 am. 9 am. 10 am. 11 am. Noon. Morning classes are long passed and forgotten. Sleeping beside one another on top of his soft blankets. Not even the daylight through the window could wake you from this slumber.

To be continued...

Reblogs and comments very much appreciated!!

Taglist (hopefully I got everyone let me know if you want to be dropped/added):

@miguels-cock-piercings @queerponcho @club-danger-zone @bossva @softcrayon

@nommingonfood @bruhhvv

@jessies-unrelagated-thoughts @mauvecherie-writes @haveclayeveryday @kimivixen

@jadeloverxd @chiikasevennn @mvlanchqly @resident-cryptid

@x0tw0d57 @vampyboys @miguelspriscilla

@francesca-the-1st @migueloharasbbm @razertail18 @laysmt

@tojiragdoll @maiyart @wazawazooo @mun-2996 @marshhbs

@curious-randomlr @safixiovi @daddyfroglegs @theplaid-wearingmoose @reader-1290

@yeanika @elysiumsangel @rinnako @mangoslushcrush @twwcs

@izakopanyi2 @migueloharasoulmate @slut4oscarissac23

@miss-loomis @genny101

@aphinthestars @webshooterrr9 @m4dyy

@jdbxws @roserfz27 @ohara-whore @oharaslove @daisy-artfield

@mooreaey6yem @peachey-pie @migueloharacumslut @pxtched

@yougavemeyourheartyouknow @julia4today

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miyukisu · 21 days ago

Text

No Matter What .ᐟ

❤︎ | If Umemiya Hajime promises you something—best believe he's keeping it (1.3k wc) ╰ feat. umemiya hajime (winbre) x afab! reader

tags - reader gets hurt, mentions of violence and injuries, angst to comfort, fluff, happy ending, caring ume, friends to lovers -ish, no y/n

a/n - this was a request on my other blog

MEGA MASTERLIST

"If you need help—no matter what it is—just call me and I'll be there."

Those were the words that Umemiya Hajime told you the first time you met him. And maybe he was just being nice. Maybe he only told you that because you were Kotoha's friend. Sure, he was the head of Furin and Furin's supposed to save the people of this town—but that doesn't mean that Ume would always be at your beck and call.

It doesn't necessarily mean that he'll be there for you no matter what.

Because you were just that—Kotoha's friend. You weren't anyone important that the top dog of Furin would come in and rescue you. But, God, you wished that you were.

You let those sweet words float by you at first, but now it was the only thing you were holding on to. That and your dwindling hope.

How did it come to this? Why did they have to come to the cafe at exactly the time that you were alone? Why did Kotoha leave you alone? Not that you blame her... but you do blame whoever these people are—for being so weak that they would hold a grudge against Furin, going as far as torturing the people that mattered to their leader rather than aiming for him themselves.

They were after Kotoha; that much you were sure of. Though, they figured, you could also be someone important to Umemiya Hajime. So they beat you up for safe measure. Perhaps a consolation that they couldn't get their true target.

You could only watch as they continued to trash the place, trying to send a message to Furin that they were dead serious about this feud—a feud that you unfortunately got tangled up in.

With your back facing the door, you were a witness to their wickedness. As much as you wanted to shout or flee for your life, you were frozen in place. Softly, you could only whisper his name—a futile prayer on deaf ears.

But Ume had a knack for turning bleak situations upside down. Too absorbed in fear, you failed to notice an intense presence make its way into the cafe. A newfound weight was put on your shoulders, a coat which you instinctively held on to. It radiated a masculine smell and it comforted you because it smelled exactly like him.

"Can you make do with my jacket for now? Just gotta deal with these guys first," he says, turning to look back at you with a reassuring smile.

Dumbfounded, you simply nodded at him, allowing him what he does best: saving the people he cares about. He effortlessly plowed his way through his opponents. His face showed no emotion, punch after punch. Part of you could tell that he was holding back; he could do even worse to them than this.

When all was said and done, Ume gave them a warning—more so a threat to be honest. The men almost crawled their way out of the place. Only then did you see a speck of emotion on Ume's face.

He was seething. The aftermath of the gang's actions made his blood boil. And to think what could have happened if Kotoha were there...

But most of all—and the reality is—you were the one that got hurt. You were no Kotoha, but Ume cared about you all the same. He was that type of guy after all.

Once he had calmed down, he knelt down in front of you. HIs face relaxed a bit, hoping it could calm you down.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier. I really am."

You quickly shook your head, still holding on to the jacket he perched on your shoulders a few minutes ago. "No... please don't apologize. I'm just glad that you came at all."

Ume's expression softened, feeling bad that someone like you had to go through such a traumatic experience. He wanted to tuck the lock of hair behind your ear and to cup your cheek at that moment, but decided against it. There were more pressing issues than giving into his impulses at the moment—like getting you to safety for instance.

That's how you found yourself being carried on his back. You insisted that you could walk, but he was as stubborn as you.

"Are you sure the cafe will be alright?"

"Of course! The other guys should be there with Kotoha now—cleaning around and stuff," he says.

"What about you though?"

"Me?"

"Don't you want to be there with Kotoha? I'm sure the other guys would have been able to help me..."

He lets out a short chuckle. "You want someone else to help you? What's wrong with me?"

"What? I didn't mean it like that. You know what I'm talking about so—"

A smile graces his face, glad to be so quick-witted. "Then just get comfortable behind there and let me bring you home."

Not that he could see your face, but you hid your flustered face behind his shoulder anyway.

────────────

Ume carried you all the way inside your house and at this point you've learned that it was fruitless to refuse his kindness. He gently places you down on the sofa before facing you with his usual positive expression.

"Alright. You got a first aid kit somewhere?" he asked with his hands on his hips, looking around as if he'd find it in plain sight.

"It should be in the bottom cabinet in the bathroom... um, first door to your right when you go up the stairs," you sheepishly respond.

He nods. "Got it. I'll be back."

Sure that he was gone, you let out the breath you've been holding for a while. You were glad that no one else was home. Otherwise, you'd have to deal with explaining as well.

And... maybe it would be nice to be alone with Ume even for just a while.

You see him come down the stairs and jog towards the hall leading to the kitchen. The fridge opens and closes, and you wonder what he's up to. Although, soon as he comes back with the kit and ice pack in hand—you understood the quick kitchen detour.

"Got some ice from the fridge. Here," he says, handing the pack to you. "Your knee looks pretty swollen. You'll need that."

You softly thank him for his thoughtfulness and he kneels down in front of you once more. He raises his hands, "You okay with a bit of touching?" preempting you to his care.

"Yeah... though it's a bit embarrassing that you have to tend to my wounds when I can do it myself."

He already had a cotton ball with antiseptic. One hand holding your leg up with the other dabbing the medicine on your cuts, he smiled thoughtlessly to himself.

"Wouldn't let a lady tend to her wounds herself, would I?"

"Knowing you... I guess you wouldn't."

He looks up at you with a grin. "Besides, I told you I'd always be there for you. Even after we get you all patched up and ready to go to the pastry shop downtown to get a sweet treat to lift your mood—I'll still be there. Someone's gotta carry you, right?"

You didn't think it was possible for you to smile, let alone laugh, after that incident. But here you were, giggling while Ume cared for your wounds.

"We're going to the pastry shop after this?"

"You bet."

It was this day that you learned: Umemiya Hajime keeps his promises no matter what.

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note I used to post a lot of WinBre on my main blog, like 40% of it used to be WinBre. But this is my first fic about it on this blog. Hope I still ate.

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker nii satoru #umemiya hajime #umemiya x reader #umemiya hajime x reader #windbreaker umemiya #wbk #wbk x reader #wind breaker manga #wind breaker angst #wind breaker fluff #wbk umemiya #mksu.works

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star-girl69 · 1 year ago

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i think aphrodite kid reader x clarisse is simply just better??? like the trope is just superior??? like, we have clarisse who is tough, and mean and one of the strongest people at camp, then we have reader who is kind and compassionate and really doesn’t care all that much about fighting. so naturally, clarisse is super protective and treats reader like a princess?? how could people dislike it 😔😔

no exactly and i actually must write about this - basically this is just all about the little things clarisse does for her perfect princess angel daughter of aphrodite gf (me!!!!!!)

okay as payment for my absence please accept some shitty headcanons I LOVE YOU ALL BYEEEE

she’s just always DOING THINGS FOR YOU

she’s so perceptive and she always knows exactly what you want and need even if you don’t know it yourself

like if you like wearing high heels one) clarisse genuinely wonders what is wrong w you

she sees no practicality in them bc there isn’t lol

but also she’s like omg???? MY GF feels safe enough around me to wear shoes she can’t run in???? WHAT JOY!!!!!!!!!

and you’ll come back to your cabin being all ugh omg my feet hurt so bad laying on the bed and putting your feet UP

and clarisse is like “well i could have told you that”

excuse me????

“don’t get me wrong baby you look gorgeous and i love you wearing heels but it’s your funeral”

“DIE”

she just laughs and takes your shoes off

she’ll continue to bully you as she’s literally massaging your feet like ok girl yeah we see you

clarisse is also a MENACE about making sure you eat

“did you eat today?”

“babe you SAW me at lunch”

“just making sure….”

you’re just so kind and amazing and clarisse loves you so much but you are not the best at fighting!

she is constantly stressed when you’re not by her side

bc no one loves you like her who will protect you 💔💔💔💔

when someone takes advantage of you she gets so PISSED OFF

bc it’s not like someone is beating you up it’ll be like someone is using you as their personal therapist or smth and you’re just like “pls go speak to an actual professional wtf 😭😭😭”

and she’s so pissed off bc WHY IS THIS BITCH PSYCHOLOGICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY TORTURING HER GIRL??????

she’s not afraid to beat people up for you and actually enjoys it!

anyways, clarisse is also a koala bear

and an emotionally stunted caveman

she’s not good with her words so these actions are all she has to show you that she loves you

idk if y’all have noticed but clar rarely saying ily to y/n bc it’s my personal headcanon that she has such a hard time saying those words. she shows you she loves you but for some reason it’s just so hard to get the words out. (…BC SHE IS AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED CAVEMAN)

so she quickly adapts to do all these little things

if you’re walking down a flight of stairs trust she is holding your hand

QUEEN of opening jars for you

if you’re not feeling well or you’re tired or just feeling lazy she’ll bully someone into doing your chores for you

also this bitch is NOT afraid to stand up for you and make sure you get what you deserve.

like that one meme

“UM… she said NO PICKLES… you fucking dumbasses…”

“CLARISSE 😭😭😭”

also like in “better than revenge” she loves to watch you do your makeup

finds it so fascinating that you can only get PRETTIER

like she’s okay at makeup but you can do that shit perfectly like standing on your head

you make it seem so effortless

she’s not a HUGE makeup girly but sometimes she’ll let you just go crazy

so you can sit on top of her….. that one sapphic meme yes…..

also she’s constantly bragging about you

“yeah… i have the prettiest gf in camp… y’all are just losers what can i say”

ofc if anyone were to agree w her she would go insane

“yeah y/n is so pretty”

“um ok yeah you don’t have to say it i say it enough….”

even if one of your siblings gives you a compliment she’s like HOLD THE FUCK ON- then she remembers THATS YOUR SIBLING ITS OK and she’s like oh this is so embarrassing.

will she stop? no ofc not

she’s constantly telling you how pretty you are. beautiful. gorgeous. exquisite. all the words

loves kissing you all over

KISSES YOUR HAND 🤭🤭

anyways going back to the clarisse koala bear agenda that got away from me

she’s just always touching you

hand on the small of your hand guiding you somewhere

hand around your waist

SITTING IN HER LAP AT CAMPFIRES

no matter what type of hair you have she’s obsessed w it. if you have pin straight hair she’s so obsessed w the fact that you don’t need a huge curl routine like her, finds it fascinating

if you do have curls she loves doing a curl routine together

whatever whatever type of hair you have she’s obsessed with it and will wash it for you if you want

so soft and lovingly like a more of a scalp massage than a hair washing

will brush your hair for you, braid it for you, anything you like just OBSESSED

she loves when you like sit on top of a picnic table and then she gets to sit in between your legs on the bench thinks it’s so so fun and so so silly

she LOVESSSSS sleeping w you OBVI.

on top of you, you on top of her, she’s a koala bear. like entirely wrapped around you

partially bc she is as aforementioned a koala bear and partly bc she is overprotective even in her sleep

if you move in the middle of the night even just a little bit

she’s a super light sleeper i feel like

always on the guard fr ✊

a little bit better when you’re there tho

so if you move in the middle of the night she’ll just like caress your hair and kiss your cheek and try to shush you back to sleep

like bitch you’re still asleep have you never heard of ADJUSTING? MOVING? SHIFTING?

hope you’re not one of those people who has to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night bc with clarisse that will stop

you can’t abandon her even for 2 minutes even for basic bodily functions like you just can’t it’s so inconsiderate to her… 💔

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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lovebugism · 11 months ago

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i have a lot of nightmares and shake a lot when nervous. could u maybe write something abt a reader that goes through similar issues, and eddie comforts them and tries to make them feel safe? u can do whatever u like with this, i just need some fluff! :]

as someone who also has frequent nightmares, this was very self-indulgent heheh i hope you like it :D — eddie calms you down when you have a bad dream (hurt/comfort, established relationship, cw for mentions of panic attacks, 1.2k)

Eddie didn’t know he loved you until now. Like, right now.

He’d always had an inkling, at the very least, but he didn’t know for sure until he got you into his bed — bare-faced and swallowed whole in an oversized t-shirt older than you are. You share a single pillow with him despite having your own, leaving your noses mere inches apart. His tired eyes go a bit cross-eyed when he looks at you.

Despite his heavy head and heavier eyelids, he doesn’t want to stop looking at you. He doesn’t want to stop talking to you, either. He doesn’t want to fall asleep at all ‘cause he’s scared he’ll miss you too much.

And that’s when he realizes that he’s head over heels, completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love with you.

“You asleep yet?” he whispers into the dark bedroom, lit only by the streams of silver moonlight slipping through the curtains.

You shake your head against the pillow you share with him. “No,” you mumble — voice thick with exhaustion, eyes fluttered shut.

“Good,” Eddie replies, shifting on the mattress until he melts further into it. Your cold feet entwine with his warmer ones. He exhales a contented sigh through his nose. “Me neither…”

You can’t be entirely sure who dozed off first, but you know for certain you wake up before he does.

3:47 A.M. blinks at you in bright red numbers on the nightstand. The witching hour greets you along with a rapidly beating heart, thrumming hard against your ribcage like it’s trying to escape from its confines.

The nightmare was a vivid one when it painted the backs of your eyelids, but you can’t really remember it now. You think that might be worse. Now you don’t know why you’re so scared — you just know that you are.

Fear, that’s all you can think about now, as your body trembles with a heavy, ice-cold feeling. Fear. Panic. Dread.

The nightmare fades. Eddie’s body, warm and comforting next to yours, becomes a much more tangible thing. But you just can’t shake the feeling it left behind. The bad dream clings to you like smoke and swallows you whole before you can blink.

You shake with the longing to hold the boy beside you. If only you could clutch onto Eddie like a life vest, or a life-sized teddy bear, maybe then you could soothe your racing heart. But you know you don’t want to wake him, just like you know you don’t want him to see you like this — so torn up over a stupid bad dream.

You sit on the edge of the mattress and try to calm yourself down. The attempt is futile. You end up with a tight chest, a pounding heart, and two cheeks damp with fat tears.

After no longer than five minutes of trying to stave off a panic attack by yourself, do you notice the bed shifting behind you. A wide palm smooths over your trembling shoulders a second later.

Eddie squints at your shivering silhouette, trying to see you better through the darkness and bleary haze of sleep. He finds you slouched over and clawing at your chest like something’s wrong. Your choked-back sobs and quiet sniffles aren’t any less concerning.

“You okay?” the boy slurs as he sits up behind you.

“‘M sorry,” you blurt, voice wet with emotion. You don’t know exactly what you’re apologizing for. You just feel like you should. Through hitched breaths, you manage out, “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to wake you— I’m sorry.”

Eddie shakes his wild head in response. The mattress squeaks under his weight as he shifts closer to you. “It’s okay. I woke up on my own,” he tells you, even though that’s not exactly the truth. “What happened, huh? Are you okay?”

You sniffle and try to respond through feeble gulps of air. “It was just a bad dream. I’m okay—” you blubber through tears, breath catching halfway through.

With his palm pressed to your spine, Eddie can feel each of your rattling breaths as you fight to drag them in. It makes his own chest ache. Your panic is his own.

“Breathe, baby, c’mon,” he urges gently as he slips in beside you. With one hand over your trembling shoulder, he slides his other over your heart. The delicate organ patters with an inhuman vigor against his palm.

“Gotta calm down, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your temple before pressing a kiss there. “‘Fore you heart explodes on me. Breathe, babe. You’re okay.”

Your swelling throat tightens. “I don’t feel good,” you confess through tiny whimpers, ‘cause you don’t know how else to tell him it feels like you’re dying. You put a cold, trembling hand over one of Eddie’s — the one gently cradling your heart — and fight to stay grounded.

The boy’s brows pinch with concern. “Do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

You think for a moment. Then shake your head.

Eddie rubs a hand up and down the length of your back. “You’re doing good, babe. Just keep breathing for me. That’s it.”

He pulls you closer, embracing you despite the awkward angle. Your shoulder presses into his chest as your head nestles between his jaw and shoulder. You rest there until it no longer feels like you’re fighting for each breath. Until your ragged sobs turn into mousy sniffles.

The first thing you think to do after you’ve calmed is apologize.

“‘M sorry,” you murmur, thick with leftover emotion.

You feel his head shake against you, untamed curls tickling your skin. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

You snivel. “I feel like such a baby…”

“Everyone has bad dreams, babe. That’s life,” Eddie tells you with a lighthearted laugh. “I can’t count how many times I’ve slept on the couch after having one just so I could be closer to Wayne. Like, that’s embarrassing.”

“No, it isn’t,” you argue with a scrunched nose, cracking a small (but no less sincere) grin.

Eddie smiles at your smiling. He squeezes your shoulder with a gentle hand. “Wanna talk about it?” he offers, watching as you visibly ponder the question. You shake your head in response. He nods in understanding. “Wanna go back to sleep?”

You shake your head again, much less hesitant this time. You’re too scared to shut your eyes for longer than a blink now — lest the nightmare threaten to plague your mind again.

“Wanna sit in the kitchen with me while I make us some hot cocoa?” Eddie offers then.

You nod slowly, pursing your lips to the side of your mouth to hide the smile pulling there. You can’t help but beam, though, when he smacks a kiss to the warm apple of your cheek.

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he urges as he rises from the bed, pulling you gently with him. He guides you out of his bedroom with a warm hand cradling your smaller one. The quiet trailer fills with the sounds of creaking floorboards, bare feet shuffling against carpet, and Eddie’s tender voice.

“I’ll even pick out marshmallows from the Lucky Charms box to put in your cocoa—” he says before a yawn cuts him off. “—‘Cause that’s how much I love you.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 months ago

Text

Peter Hale x Younger!Mate!Reader || Drabble

Plot: **I forget how mates work in the Teen Wolf universe but for the good of the fic, we're going to do this in an AU where your mate is not your choice- you just Feel It, when you meet them, and Know. And you also have a little sixth sense, where you can tell when the other is in danger.**

Peter Hale is your mate, there's no question about that, but from the moment that you both realised that fact- he has made it clear that you are too young and sorry sweetheart, I'm not that evil.

But some time later he turns up at your house. He has no intentions of being there long, but will it be harder for him to leave then he thought?? After all, now its just the two of you. Just you, and him. Fuck.

Warnings: Age difference (Reader is 21-24, Peter is 35-38).

Of all the people who could've been on the other side of the door today, Peter Hale was probably the one possibility you thought would be the least likely. As soon as you see him, you straighten up your back; stand with more confidence. Even though you're really, really confused. How does he even know where you live?? Peter has never been here. And you've never been close enough to tell him.

"Wh-... " You look around. Did one of the other bring him?? Lydia??? Weirdly, you don't see anyone else. Just your devastatingly attractive, occasionally evil, quippy estranged mate. When your eyes land on him again, you cant help but notice something off about him. He looks a little nervous. A little worried. "... Is everything okay??" Your voice is gentle; soothing. You don't know how comforting that is to him, against his will.

"Hi." He starts, causing you to screw up your nose when he doesn't answer your question. "I uhh... I got your address from Styles."

"And he just... gave it to you?" You ask, dubious. Styles hates that you and Peter are mates, and one of the few things that Style appreciates about Peter is the distance he's kept from you all this time.

Peter shakes his head. "Well, no, he took some convincing, but- " His eyes flicker from your face to the rest of you for the first time- period. First time ever. But still, there's not a bit of lecherousness in his glance, just more concern. Now your lips form into a concerned frown. Why is he so anxious?? Thats not Peter-like at all. Even you know that and you barely know each other! "Uh, when I told him I was worried about you, he coughed up."

You blink. "Worried??... Why would you be worried about m- " OH fuck. Guilt rushes through you immediately. You completely forgot that that he could... that mates could sense when the other was scared. You were told it could be felt almost just as clearly as if you yourself were in the danger, if your mate was. And you were pretty damn scared, earlier.

Fuck.

Immediately your body goes cold and your eyes go round. "- I'm so sorry!! It was- I- My friend and I went into the city earlier, and she left early so I took the train back on my own, and there was this creep that sat next to me an-- It wasn't serious. I'm so so sorry."

Peter nods, the worried fog in his eyes clearing as he let out a sound- a sigh? Relief? He remains rooted to the spot, though, a crease in his eyebrows that still conveyed some level of concern. "What kind of creep? Are you alright??"

"He was just- um- " How do you describe the levels of discomfort you were in with this guy, and still convince him that you're fine? You're not, right now. In fact you were still pent up when you finally got home, safe and sound. You only forgot all about it when Peter turned up at your door. "Persistent. I'm okay. Thank you Peter."

The crease in Peter's eyebrows increases, furrowing and knitting together into a grimace of disbelief. What you would almost call a sneer pulls across his pretty face. "Really?? That felt... pretty bad, sweetheart."

You immediately ignore the twitter your heart gives when he calls you sweetheart. "Really. I'm not hurt, he didn't follow me home. I'll be fine."

"Hm." Peter clearly doesn't believe you. You don't know what to tell him!

... fortunately, you don't have to. After a moment, he rolls his eyes and rolls his shoulders, shaking off the grimace and the sneer and looking once again his usual, unique brand of nonchalant. "Fine, don't tell me. But hey, maybe I should give you my phone number. That way you can let me know whenever something like that happens, so I don't have to freak out cuz my heart's about to tear out of my chest while I'm just folding laundry."

"Oh. Yeah, probably a good ide- "

"You got a pen?"

And there he goes, you think with an indignant huff. He's brushing you off and trying to get away fast, like just being near you was a chore.

Giving a nod, you leave the doorway and head into your house. "You can come in!" You call back, searching for a pen and a notepad.

It hurt that Peter was like this with you all the time, but usually it was a vague unfortunate longing feeling somewhere deep inside you. Because, in the end, you didn't really know Peter. Just because he meant to be your mate, didn't mean you knew him (Just meant that you could. That you wanted to.). So truly, was it a huge loss that he didn't want anything to do with you? You tried to tell yourself that it wasn't. And besides, you sort of respected him for not wanting to 'prey' on you. That was good... A part of him not everyone saw.

Right this moment though you felt sad, and annoyed. Because for a moment there, he was really your mate. He was worried for you, he wasn't just shocked and upset like he'd probably try to convince you if you pressed him on it, he was worried. You could see it clear as day. Because one thing you could gather about Peter, was that when he wasn't wearing that semi-permanent poker face he had on again now as he wandered through your house behind you, peering at pictures on walls and books on your shelves, his face was more like a window directly to his soul. He couldn't hide anything. Thats probably why he invented the blasé attitude he'd patented now.

"... didn't know you were a reader." He pipes up, a definite note of interest in his tone. Not Talking is not a possibility for him- even with you. "What's- "

You give him a taste of his own medicine. "Yep."

Finally you find a pen and paper, stuffed in your food cupboard with a grocery list half done on the first page. You flip to the second page and turn around, handing the pad and the fine liner pen over to Peter.

You watch him carefully write in his phone number down for you, and feel very oddly about him being in your home right now. Morally debased Peter Hale, looking way too gorgeous in jeans and a designer t-shirt- your supposed mate- in your kitchen. Absolutely nuts.

When he's done, you cant help but asking if he wants a cup of tea? You want him to stay. You want him to be comfortable with this- with you.

But you wont force him if he cant. Even if it genuinely breaks your heart a little every time that you think about what could be, here.

"No- no, I cant." He says quickly, immediately, and you nod. Yeah. Yeah, you expected that. Okay. "Well... good seeing you, Y/N. I'll, uh, see you around inevitably."

"Probably, I'm in the pack you keep trying to take over."

A little grin flickers across his face. A little fake-ashamed, a little proud. "Exactly."

You don't know if thats a joke or not. Probably a bit of both, with him. From what you knew of him, he could never ignore the allure of being alpha for very long, despite any amount of good deeds he does.

Complicated man, he is.

Peter turns his back and starts on his way back the way he came, and you go to walk him out, and you're just thinking about what you're going to do with the rest of your day- how you definitely need a comforting cup of tea after all the fear and all the oddness and all the sad- when suddenly Peter turns back around. You nearly run into him. "Oh!- Peter- "

Before you even realise what happened, he draws you and in against him and seals your lips with his and swallows down your surprise. There's a passion in this sudden, shocking kiss that you've never felt before and it almost brings you to your knees. You kiss him back, parting your lips and meeting his tongue with a clipped moan, but you have to wrap your arms around his neck just to stay on your feet.

Being this close to him finally, you find you don't mind the rough stubble against your face one bit, and his cologne is expensive but good, and his nose rubbing against yours feels perfect.

When he pulls back he releases a wolfish growl into the small space between you both, frustrated and annoyed. "Shit, I wish I had a good excuse for that, but- " He shakes his head before pressing his forehead against yours. "Fuck me, I shouldn't have done that... "

"I'm a grown up, Peter- "

"See, Y/N, the fact that you have to say that, is not reassuring to me."

"Y/N??" You blink, eyes growing wide.

"Thats your name." He groans, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, but you've never said it before."

"Yes I hav- " He seems to decide arguing about that isn't worth the time, and shakes his head again. Probably because he definitely hasn't!- "Whatever. Point is, today I have reached a new low. And guess who's fault that is, sweetheart?"

Your mouth falls open with shock, despite the butterflies that fly around inside you at him calling you sweetheart again. "Not mine!- You could control yourself, its not that hard."

His intense blue eyes have a grin in them, now, making you insides feel warm and soft. Still, he sighs. "... any chance you can keep this a secret?"

Hmm... "... Only if you kiss me again." There's a lot to discuss, a lot to figure out; you know that. But the bottom line, the only thing you care about right now, is that you're a grown fucking adult- and you're still feeling the high from Peter's touch. You need it again. You think you're addicted.

Already!

A dark smirk slips across his handsome face. "Hm. You got a couch in this place sweetheart?"

#Peter Hale x Reader Drabble #Peter Hale x Reader #Peter Hale #Drabble #Teen Wolf #Teen Wolf x Reader

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revelboo · 3 months ago

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I literally can't get enough of your writing like I need it like oxygen at this point 🙌 I am not above begging for more of Everything is alright or Over it now

My heart is literally hurting for Star because he genuinely didn't know, and he finally is starting to be vulnerable, and now he knows it's not going to last no matter what. And the inner turmoil of the reader being so torn between him and Soundwave? Wanting both but not being able to hurt Star after he put everything at risk?? It's so good but it hurts my heart 😭😭

And Jazz finally getting someone who would listen to his feelings and get to know the real him under all his masks?? The poor guy needs that so bad, and he's finally opening up (even if she can't understand what he's saying)

All in all, your writing is amazing, and you are literally amazing ✨️✨️✨️

Thank you! I have a lot of fun overthinking why the characters act the way they do and trying to get into their heads

Over It Now Pt 11

IDW Jazz x Reader

• “You could just let me take you,” he says as he watches you lock the door and do an awkward shuffle to put the keys away while trying to not drop one of your crutches in the process. Leaving him for work again. Wanting to help, but also knowing exactly how stubborn you are as you eye the stairs off your porch. He’d also figured out forgiveness was much easier to ask for than permission, reaching to lift you in his servos and carefully set you down in the driveway crutches and all bypassing the steps and then backing up to fall forward into his alt mode.

• Heart racing at being picked up unexpectedly, you warm watching his antics. Because he knows you struggle with the steps and he’d saved you from dealing with them when he didn’t have to. “We both know you have better things to do than chauffeur me around,” you say, trying not to laugh when he opens the driver’s side door and wags it back and forth in invitation.

• “Come for a ride, doll. I’ll behave.” Door still open, he fully expects you to walk past him to your own ugly car, so it’s a surprise when you slide in the driver’s seat and awkwardly lean the crutches in the passenger side. And then you’re right there and he’s more aware of you this way somehow than when he’s held you in his servos. You’re warm against him, soft hands brushing the steering wheel hesitantly as if not sure if it’s okay and he can smell your soap, your shampoo, you. “Alright,” he murmurs more to himself than to you, because it’s a small thing, but you’re entrusting yourself to him. And that means so much.

• There’s no way to not overthink that you’re sitting inside Jazz and it’s weird. You end up folding your hands in your lap so you don’t touch anything you shouldn’t. Inhaling as the shifter moves on its own and then the wheel spins as he reverses. “Doll, you’re going to have to at least pretend to drive,” he laughs and he’s right. Other drivers might notice you’re just sitting there so you just barely touch your palms to the wheel, letting it move freely against your skin.

• Primus, you’re precious. Eyes darting all over his interior, trying so hard not to touch anything. “What do you do normally? I mean a phantom car driving itself has to freak people out,” you mumble, shifting against him as he turns onto the road, wheels humming. Liking the feel of having you there, surrounded by him and safe, it takes a moment to actually understand your question. It’s not nearly the same as holding you in his hands, but still comforting to him that you’re there with him. It doesn’t take a lot of energy, but he does have to concentrate to create a holomatter avatar in the passenger side seat to show you what he normally does, not bothering to make it solid at all since your crutches are embedded in the avatar’s legs and torso and your head turns as it appears. He’s not sure what he expected, but it’s definitely not for you to scream and throw yourself against the inside of his door.

• “It’s me. It’s an avatar,” the glitchy thing in the passenger seat is saying in Jazz’s voice, holding up big hands as you nearly have a heart attack. “Doll, it’s okay. Sorry, I just-frag.” And the human shaped thing flickers and fades, leaving your heart hammering against your ribs. You’re still plastered to the door, hands curled into fists. “Were you going to punch me?” Yes. You absolutely were, because it had just been there so suddenly, a fixed grin on a fake looking face that was staring right at you, Eyes closing you lean your forehead against the cool glass of the driver’s side window and try to calm down and instead start laughing. Covering your face with your hands as he vents at you in exasperation, blowing warm air across your skin and you realize he’s never asked where you work, an address or anything. So how does he know where to take you? Has he been following you?

#transformers x reader #jazz x reader #idw jazz

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hauntedbydreams · 1 month ago

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imagine Vi with a gf that will do drastic things to their appearance and not mention it- like reader just shows up with new piercings, haircut, nail set etc and just plays it off to mess w/ her

"I've always had those wym?" "It was just a trim idk what you're saying"

Ok I’m obsessed w this idea bc it’s literally me, I shave and dye my hair every month and don’t realize ppl can’t recognize me when they don’t see me every few weeks, oopsi. This also ended up being very self indulgent BECAUSE I GOT A TATTOO OF VI’s NAME ON MY LOWER NAVEL 😌 I’m so down bad for her it’s not even funny (this IS a photo of MY tattoo so plz just lmk if ur gonna use it for anything)

Anyway hope u like this! (And thank u for my first Vi ask!!) requests/asks are always open!

Lil suggestive at the end but nothing too crazy I’d say…

Vi loves that you’re so all over the place, it makes her feel like you’re always changing and it’s kinda why she fell for you in the first place.

But she was not prepared for the amount of drastic appearance changes you bombard her with on a monthly basis.

You’ll show up with a random new hair color one day, walking into the gym she works at to drop off her lunch. Just strutting into the place, so nonchalantly, like there’s absolutely nothing new when in fact your hair went from brown to black with bright green highlights.

Vi’s at the reception about to head to the back with a new client when she sees you. She doesn’t even register that it’s you at first and her jaw only drops when she does a double take.

“Hey honey” you say in your regular loving tone.

“Uhh… Hi.. uh- hi baby?” Vi’s so confused but you just look at her innocently and bat your lashes. “I brought you lunch!”

“I see that” Vi looks down at the bag you dropped on the counter and leans over to kiss you on the cheek quickly. “I also see you’ve got a new hairstyle?”

You look at her surprised, “oh this?” you’re picking up strands of hair twisting them around your fingers absentmindedly “yeah I guess…”

“You guess?!?” she stares at you incredulously “it’s quite a big change cupcake!”

You fake being hurt and pretend dramatically, placing a hand your heart “So you don’t like it?”

“No, no, no! I didn’t say that! I just meant it’s so different!” Vi’s reaching over to run her fingers through your hair “I really like it”

“It’s really not that different Vi, just added the green” you brush it off, messing with her a little.

Vi swears your hair was brown and not black but she just shrugs, “as long as you’re happy!”

Then one day you’re off work early and you walk by this piercing shop every day on your way home. You’ve got a few piercings on your ears and that one on your belly button that Vi adores, but you’ve been wanting a septum for a while.

So before you can convince yourself otherwise you’re walking out of the piercing studio with a fresh silver ring in your nose.

You walk into your apartment met with the sound of Vi playing video games on the couch. Swooping down you attempt to give her a peck on the lips while she moves her head around your figure trying to see the screen “Hi Angel… one sec I just have to pass this level, then I promise I’m all yours”

You let her be and go to quickly clean your brand new piercing before she’s done with her gaming.

Later you guys are making dinner together and Violet can’t help but notice the silver ring glittering above your top lip when it catches the light. To be fair, Vi is always staring at your lips anyway, so it’s not like she really wasn’t gonna notice a piercing right above them.

“Uhhh hey babe?”

“Yeah Vi?”

“Did you always have that septum piercing?”

“Mhm” you’re humming absentmindedly as you stir something on the stove.

Violet can’t think straight, cause is she that distracted and so down bad that she didn’t notice her beautiful girlfriend had a septum piercing?!? Or is this another one of your “what do you mean I didn’t change anything!” moments like when you showed up with dyed hair and pretended it was the exact same or when you got new nails done and told her you’d been wearing them for weeks…

She swears you messing with her like this is gonna be the death of her, but… she’d never complain.

Nothing prepares Vi for your next drastic move though, cause she goes absolutely feral when u show her the tattoo u got of her name on ur lower navel.

Oh no. You’re done for. Cause she’s almost quite literally on her knees drooling, staring up at you with big blue eyes and you know she’s about to jump your bones and never let you go.

Vi knew you were going in for a tattoo appointment that day. But what she didn’t know is that you decided to surprise her with a little “VI”, the same one she has on her face, but in ink the color of her hair. The deep fuchsia pink you love.

So when you come home from your tattoo appointment, Vi thinks you just went for the bigger piece you got on your leg. So she jumps from the couch as soon as she hears you entering your apartment “Hey! you’re back!” and she’s running down the hall kneeling at your legs, lifting your trousers to see the new piece with an excited “Lemme see!!!”

You’re just as excited and giggle while she admires the work. But you keep ur mouth shut and don’t say a word about the little surprise tattoo you have of her name just above your panty line.

“It’s so cool! I love the colors and it’s so much bigger than I thought you’d go for! I love it!” Vi’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “Did it hurt? You were at the studio for a while…”

“Nah it wasn’t too bad, plus the artist was so gentle and it’s not like it’s my first rodeo Vi.” You’re rolling your eyes at her concern and she’s standing back up pulling you in for a long kiss.

“I’m gonna go unwrap the tattoo foil and wash the new ink, are you ok to start dinner hon?” You yell into the kitchen as you walk toward the bathroom. “Yeah! In a minute!”

Before you’ve even finished undressing to hop in the shower, Vi’s bursting into the bathroom claiming she needs to wash her hands before cooking. (but you both know there’s a perfectly good sink in the kitchen and she just loves barging in on you in the shower).

She’s smirking as she leans on the side of the sink “Cute panties”

You look down and immediately cover your face in embarrassment realizing you’re wearing high waisted flower-patterned cottons. It’s not your usual choice and they’re kinda reserved for shark week cause you don’t think they’re cute, but it was your best option for getting a lower navel tattoo and making sure it didn’t get irritated. “Stahppp Vi, I had to wea-“ you catch yourself before you can tell Vi about the tattoo.

She’s already sauntering over to you her hands finding their place on your bare waist making you shiver. “I don’t know… I still think they’re kinda cute..” Vi trails off as her fingers dig under the band and slowly lower it.

You’re waiting in anticipation for her to notice the tattoo at any moment, and then she does.

Her eyes go wide the second she sees it. You swear you can see her brain reset to factory settings and her mind go blank.

She doesn’t know what to say or do. Sliding down to the ground, shes now on her knees in front of you, hands on your hips holding the band of your panties down with her thumbs as she just stares at the little fuchsia pink “VI” on your lower navel.

“Vi?” You try gently, dragging the word out like a question.

“Hmm?” She’s not looking at you, just staring at the tattoo of her name on your body as she swallows hard. “Fuck Angel, fuck… is that… is that my name, sweetheart?” She’s biting her lip inhaling and ur nodding a happy “mhm” down at her.

Something short circuits in her then. The way her name is permanently on your skin. The way her name on you marks you as hers. She’s breathing heavy.

She thinks she’s drooling but she doesn’t care. She’s focusing her pretty blue eyes up on you now. You cup her face and try to play it off like you usually do, teasing her with your big appearance changes, teasing her “Oh, I’ve totally always had thi-“

Before you can finish she’s up, kissing you hungrily, her hands on your waist and the side of your neck, crowding you against the sink. Your breath hitches as you notice the glimmer in her eye and you can barely contain a little gasp when Vi’s thigh slides between yours.

“Don’t bullshit me Angel, we both know you haven’t always had a tattoo of MY name-“ she’s brushing her fingers across the fresh lettering, making you wince “-especially not here of all places.”

She’s kissing your neck, sucking on the soft skin leaving marks everywhere, slowly making her way down your body. Your hands are in her hair as she reaches your navel. She’s kissing everywhere but the tattoo, stopping to say a few words in between light pecks and little kitten licks “Fuck sweetheart… mmh, I can’t believe… you, fuck… got my… name tatted… ugh.. fuck” her voice trails off sounding so thick and needy. She’s looking up at you through her lashes and you know you’re done for.

You whimper and Vi’s vision goes fuzzy. Forget the shower, forget dinner, she’s carrying you to the nearest bed… so she can look at her name on your skin while she makes you scream it.

#I can’t believe i actually got a tattoo of her name #i’m just a girl #vi arcane #arcane vi x reader #haunted by dreams tf #vi brain rot #vi headcanons #violet arcane #vi arcane x reader #vi fluff #vi x fem reader #vi x you #request #reqs open #asks open

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stunie · 5 months ago

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UMEMIYA’S SHAZAM! — sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ umemiya hajime x f!reader ﾉ entry for @melon-fodder / bofurin brothel’s music collab!! ﾉ in which a certain white haired stranger comes to you for some help…

Your routine has stayed the same from the day you moved to Makochi. You’d say good morning to Kotoha at 7:30 AM. Eat breakfast at Pothos and enjoy a quick cup of coffee. And by 8:30, you’re already out the door and heading to work.

It’s not every day that a stranger startles you the way this one did. Your headphones are dangling around your neck now, hands lingering over them as you stare back at him. Wide-eyed and taken aback. Your music continues playing, and you can still hear it.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t hear him approach you.

“I really, really need your help!” He sits beside you, hands clasping together to plead. “You heard it, right?”

“Y-you scared me.” Your brows furrow. “My heart’s racing— you shouldn’t run up to people with headphones in and yell for help! I thought you were hurt.”

It seems to dawn on him suddenly. “Oh, you do have headphones in! No wonder you didn’t hear me earlier.” He lets out a sheepish laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry! I didn’t notice. You look so pretty— I completely missed it.”

You blink. “Me? Pretty?”

“Yeah.” He tilts his head a bit and looks at you. “Pretty.”

He says it so matter-of-factly that you’re not even sure how to respond. “O-oh. Thank you.”

The man in front of you gives you a bright smile at this. A little too wide— as if he’s confused as to what you’re even thanking him for.

“So..” you fiddle with your headphones. “What did you need help with? It sounded urgent.”

“Ah!” He perks up again. “I almost forgot. I really liked the last song that was playing. Did you hear it? I can’t find it..”

“Oh,” you almost laugh at how he’s already forgotten that you had headphones in for the second time that morning. “Sorry. I didn’t hear it. Did you catch any of the lyrics? I can try to guess.. if you want.”

“Eh? You can do that?”

You nod.

“I’ll sing it!” He’s much closer to you now. If he notices, he doesn’t seem to acknowledge it. You start to think he’s just a really oblivious guy, but it’s not a bad thing.

You think he’s cute.

You watch him with a small smile when he clears his throat, humming in thought as he tries to recall the lyrics of the song he heard. “Hm.. okay, okay. I remember.”

“Listen closely,” he smiles. “It goes like… mmmm. mmmm mmm… and I’ll sacrifice!”

Sacrifice? That doesn’t sound like Kotoha’s playlist.

The laugh slips past your lips before you even realize it. It catches you off guard— and the confused look he gives you only makes you laugh even harder. “Sorry, sorry, ah!” You cover your mouth with the back of your hand when it comes back ten times worse.

You’re forced to hunch over the table now. Completely oblivious to the way his eyes widen at how cute you sound. You look even prettier when you’re like this. But he doesn’t need to tell you that, does he?

It’s so obvious. That’s why he was confused earlier. You already know all this, don’t you? Warmth starts creeping up his cheeks the longer you laugh at him, and his lips feel a little wobbly now.

“Hey…” a crooked smile tugs at his lips when you try to apologize through a giggle again. “How mean. And here I was asking for help!”

You weakly slide your phone in his direction. “I think this should be the song…otherwise,” your voice cracks and you take in a sharp inhale to resist the urge to laugh again. “Otherwise I really have no idea.”

“Ah, so you do know! Old Love? By… hm… Putri Dahlia and Yuji. Okay. Old Love. Old Love!” He nods before standing up abruptly. “You’re the best, you know that? Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” It’s the calmest your voice has sounded in the last two minutes. “Don’t scare other people on your way out.”

He gives you an eager nod before leaving, and you slip your headphones back on. He never even gave you his name, did he? You’re also not entirely certain if he would be taking your advice, but at least this time it wouldn’t be you getting jumpscar—

“Hey!” You almost spit out your food. “No way. I scared you again? You scare pretty easily, huh?”

This time, it’s his turn to start laughing, and you note that this is the third time he’s forgotten about your headphones in the span of fifteen minutes. Not that telling him again would help.

“This is for you. I almost forgot.” He drops a folded piece of paper into your hands. “My number! Oh- you can call me Umemiya.”

He points to the paper. “So you can help me find more songs. I’ll text you the lyrics this time.”

So now he’s expecting you to know what he’s singing over text too. It sounds impossible, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. It’s not like it you would get jumpscared over text, anyway.

#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker #wind breaker fluff #windbreaker fluff #windbreaker x reader #umemiya #umemiya hajime x reader #hajime umemiya #umemiya fluff #windbreaker umemiya #umemiya x y/n #umemiya x you #wbk umemiya #wind breaker x you #wind breaker imagines #wind breaker drabbles #eviewrites

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cogentsummoner · 4 months ago

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Questions

continuation of this drabble / requested by @like-a-clock

You sit back down in your office chair, stunned expression on your face. What are you supposed to do, to say? You look back up at All Might- Yagi- whomever- and see him swimming in All Might's- his?- costume. He's fidgeting with his hands, the way he always does when he's anxious, and you realize that despite your shock, you have to say something to soothe him.

Then, another realization hits you.

"Oh my god. That's why one of you was always missing at meetings!" you exclaim, going over the past few months in your head. Generally it was All Might who was absent (which was a source of annoyance for other senior staff members; apparently this had become a big problem with him the last few years), but whenever he did make it to a meeting, Yagi would be absent, generally for health related reasons.

He jumps a little, clearly not expecting that from you, and laughs sheepishly. "Yes, it's… hard being in two places at once. Or rather- being in one place twice."

"It… I can imagine," you manage. The gears in your head are slowly starting to turn again. "So, this whole time…?"

He nods, apprehensive. "I'm…sorry for keeping this secret. It's not… something I want people to know."

You shake your head. "No, it's… I can understand, I think… I've only been here a few months, after all. How… how many people know?"

He's quiet for a moment, then answers, "None of the other staff-"

"None?" you repeat incredulously. "All Might- Yagi- that's… how have you been pulling this off? And how long have you been pulling this off? And- why? Plenty of other Heroes have transformation Quirks, I don't understand-"

"It's not a transformation Quirk," he cuts you off, tone…guarded. Guarded in a way that catches you by surprise. You're silent, waiting for him to elaborate, and he does so with a sigh. "It… my appearance would change slightly whenever I 'turned on' my Quirk, but it…it didn't use to be this drastic."

You wet your lips, a sudden knot of anxiety in your stomach. "What changed?"

He won't look at you. "I got hurt, a few years ago. I can't be All Might all the time anymore. I started dropping weight because… well, you know."

You did know. The bare essentials, at least. Yagi had told you that he'd lost his stomach in a Villain attack, and that's where all his dietary restrictions came from.

"Over time, the difference between my 'Quirk on' and 'Quirk off' forms grew more stark, until… well. You can see," he says, gesturing to his emaciated body with barely disguised disdain.

A lot of things make more sense now. You knew Yagi… didn't have the best view of himself and his appearance. If, all this time, he was comparing himself to All Might, because he was All Might, because his appearance suddenly and dramatically changed as he couldn't maintain his weight and muscle anymore… little wonder it messed with his self-esteem.

You get up from your chair, moving to be just slightly in his personal space- you didn't want to overwhelm him… not yet, anyways.

"Okay, that explains the appearance thing. But why… why pretend to be your secretary? That's what I'm really struggling with here."

He frowns at you. "I'm not pretending. I needed a secretary after Nighteye left, and I… didn't trust anyone else with this secret. But it was… a lot more work than I was expecting, and… well, you remember how things were when you got here.

You did. They were bad. Reports that were 5-6 weeks overdue, thousands of unread emails, and a gaggle of very frustrated senior staffers who couldn't understand why All Might didn't just fire the incompetent Yagi. Niceness alone did not a secretary make.

"So… why me, then? I mean, obviously you needed help with everything, but…why an outsider?" You take another step closer, though Yagi doesn't seem to notice.

He lets out a sigh. "Anyone I promoted in the company would've faced a lot of scrutiny- as would I. They'd also… well, they'd be coming into it knowing about…how over my head I was." He's fidgeting with his hands again, and not looking at you. "Every reference you had talked about how patient and understanding you were, and… that was what I thought I needed. What I did need. You've been so helpful and kind, and you- you seemed to care about me. Not just All Might, but…Yagi Toshinori too. I didn't realize how much I needed that."

"I do care about you- both of you, all of you," you tell him, taking one final step forwards. It's only now that he realizes how close you've gotten, and he startles a little, a faint blush on his cheeks. "Alright, last question."

He nods, solemnly, ready to hear whatever it is you have to say.

"Can I kiss you?"

His blush deepens into a beautiful crimson, and his mouth hangs slightly open. "You- you want to? With me?"

You can't help but laugh. Where was all that smooth confidence from ten minutes ago? "Of course I do. I already told you- I'm in love with you."

"Oh," he says quietly, and that one little sound says so much. He wasn't expecting you to really have feelings for him, or he was expecting the secret identity thing to be a dealbreaker, or… something else. He wasn't expecting this; you, wanting to kiss him, wanting to hold him- you, wanting him.

You cup his face with your hands, and he nods, suddenly, eagerly. You can't blame him- you're eager too, as you stand on your tiptoes to press your lips to his.

It's different from kissing All Might- his lips are thin, and dry, and just a little bit chapped. He's a little more shy, letting you take the lead, gently resting his hands on your hips. But it's perfect, regardless.

#i hope you like this!#like-a-clock #maxie writes #yagi toshinori x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #all might x reader

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iouinotes · 1 year ago

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Show-off | Mike Ross

pairing: Mike Ross x female!reader

show: Suits

genre: smut word count: 2,9k

summary: you and your co-worker Mike dont get along very well. But when you have something that he needs, suddenly everything is different.

a/n: Just watched the first two episodes of "Suits" and something about Mike is really attractive-

Working in a well-known office as a lawyer has it's advantages. Such as being respected by business people or being able to afford a lot of things, you spend all your evenings analyzing documents rather than meeting actual people.

Nevertheless, sometimes there are also negative factors. For example, my co-worker Mike, who really believes, that he is with his ridiculously skinny tie and sarcastic humor better than the others. Or right now, better than me.

"God, I cant believe you. Can you behave for once?" I use my fingers to push my hair back in frustration, noticing how my head starts to hurt. Its 10 pm and I'm currently trying to stay calm, though because of one man in particular, my nerves seem to be getting thinner within seconds. Valuable time is wasted that I could spend somewhere else instead of with him.

"Now it's my fault, that you don't have the documents with you? Sorry, I can't help you being organized in your own workplace." His voice irritates me. Everything about him is so frustrating.

"I told you, I didnt get the message! How am I supposed to know, that you need something, when you don't tell me anything about it? Maybe you should stop being so childish and ask me in the first place, instead of running to Rachel!" If our job had nothing to do with justice and we werent literally standing in a law company right now, I would kill him. And then I wouldn't hesitate to go to court and say it was self-defense, because I didnt want to hear any of his miserable excuses anymore.

"So what do you think, I should do? I need these documents for tomorrow. Please, I know you don't like me, but it is really urgent." Why does he has such blue eyes? The look he is going me is even more irritating than his voice.

I sign, exhibit my laptop and try to put the pens back, that are laying all over my desk.

"Okay, fine. As I said, the documents are at home, so-" I don´t even get to finish my sentence.

"Great, so I'll meet you there. And I wont even tell anyone, if your place is a mess." His eyes wander over my messy desk, and even If I don´t like to admit it, it's a bad habit of mine. But, he shouldn't make any assumptions about the neatness in my apartment.

"I hope you loose the documents on your way home." At my words, he grins smugly.

"Well, then I could lie and say you didnt found them anymore and I hadnt had the chance to go through them." He leans towards me.

"I'll run you over with my car." He raises his eyebrows at my threat.

"You sure should do something that makes you smile more often. Is that even something you know how to do?" I show him my middle finger and turn to left my office. When I close the door, I hear the laughter in his voice.

"The next storm should be named after you as quickly as you left the room." He follows after me.

"Can you shut up for once? Oh, I forgot. You don´t last one second being silent. Thats a shame, the world could finally heal." His hand rests on his heart, his features fake a hurt expression.

"Ouch. You really don´t like me that much, huh?" His eyes try to search mine.

"You get on my nerves on purpose every fucking day. Should I thank you for that?" I turn my head to look at him.

"Yes, you should. Your life would be so boring without me." He grins at me again from the side, that typical grimace that is always adorn on his face.

"You wish." When I tell him my address, he raises his eyebrows, but before he can make an unfavorable comment, I get into my car.

Darkness surrounds me and when I see him going away, I lower my head to the steering wheel. He really is the best at confusing my emotions.

~~~~~

I turn off the lights of my car and get out of it, so I can finally make my way to my flat. Its not something special, I mean I have a living room, which is quite big and connected to the kitchen, a bedroom and a bath. But I am very lucky, because I have a small balcony, from which I can watch the stars at night. But I usually only do that when I can't sleep.

So, when I enter my apartment, I let my eyes wander over the manageable mess, I put some clothes back in the closet and the dishes in the washing machine. The place almost looks decent, when I hear the doorbell.

As I open the door, I'm nervous for some reason. I let him in and turn to my office drawers, looking for the document.

"Nice place. You live here alone?" His fingers trace my bookshelf, I see him reading the titles.

"No, my wife is still at work." When I look at him dead serious, I see him laugh in surprise.

"So, you do have humor. I thought, you were one of those exceptions that wouldn't be able to do that." He means it as a joke, but something in my chest hurts.

When I reply with a monotonous voice, I see his eyebrows pull together. "I live here alone. That's what you wanted to hear?" I'm getting more frustrated again with every second he's around me.

"No- I didnt mean it that way. I'm sorry. My intentions were good, I promise." When I look at him for a moment, I see his honest expression.

It would be so easier for me to hate him, if I didnt know, he was a good human. Well, most of the time.

We are silent for a moment, but when I hear his footsteps, I tense up.

"What are you doing?" He's now standing right next to me.

"Helping you. You seem a little, tense?" I glare at him for a moment and he raises his hands in defense.

"Just pointed out the obvious. But dont worry. You still look lovely." I stop in my movements at his words.

"Thats such shock for you?" His voice shows surprise and a certain curiosity.

"Only that you say it." I look into his eyes.

"Well, you may think I'm dumb, but I'm not blind."

He just called me beautiful, sort of. It´s confusing me.

When I finally find the documents, I hold my hand out to him.

"I don´t think you are dumb. I think you're annoying. And a show-off. I don´t like that." His eyes follow me.

"What do you like then?" His question surprises me. He slowly takes the documents out of my hand, his finger gently brushing mine.

"I don´t think that is any of your business." I try to clear my voice. His touch makes me shiver.

"Come on, tell me. Would that be so bad?" His whole presence is making me nervous and I feel my hands start to shake.

At work, I can always hide behind a mask, pretend that nothing he does affects me. I can act like I truly hate him, even though I catch myself looking at him, from time to time. Especially when he shows off his intelligence without realizing it, impresses his clients and -I would never admit it- me too. It's a certain charm about him, the way he always knows how to answer, while being mischievous and clever about it.

But now, that he's in my apartment and so close to me, it's suddenly different. And I don't know how to react to him being nice.

"I look for someone who isnt afraid of commitment. Someone who is honest and kind, but who also challenges me. I want to feel safe, so I can put my trust not only in myself."

He nods and is quiet for a moment, I begin to feel stupid for telling him all of that, when he responds.

"I get that. Someone whose shoulder you can lean on when things get too much. Someone who meets your needs, who wants to be in your life. For longer than a one-night stand." He smiles at me and I see for the first time, why I possibly could like him.

"Also, statistics show higher rates of being robbed or kidnapped, when you have one-night stands." This remark almost makes me laugh, even though it's frightening.

"Well, who would even notice, if I would disappear? Probably only my clients, because they need me." I lower my head, being completely honest with him for the first time.

"I would notice."

When I look at him, he takes a step towards me. His fingers gently slide over my shoulder and brush my hair aside, the touch makes a warm feeling bloom in my chest.

"I couldn't annoy you anymore. My life would be pretty boring without you. And it's not so bad to be able to look at such a pretty face every day, even if it always looks at me annoyed, like all the time." I quietly laugh at that, feeling surprisingly good because of his compliment.

We look at each other, now being really close. My eyes travel to his lips and I don´t even know how it happens, but suddenly he is all over me. His lips on mine, his hands on my waist, lifting me up to sit me on the desk. I moan softly when his hands tangle in my hair and he pushes himself closer to me, so that he's standing between my legs. One of his hands gently wraps around my neck and I feel my loud pulse.

My hands move too, stroking his back and holding him closer to me by his tie. As he pulls his lips away from me, he lifts my chin with his finger. Now, looking down at me with widen pupils. I hold his eye contact, forgetting all about my issues with him, when he speaks to me with a deep voice (which I suddenly don´t think sounds irritating anymore).

"Be angry at me tomorrow and mine for tonight. I bet, all your frustration from work and your thin nerves can catch a break, what do you say?"

Not much. Because I pull him towards me by his tie and kiss him again. I don't want to stop at all anymore. He returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm and his hands find their way to my waist again to lift me up again. When he crosses the living room with quick steps and lays me down on the sofa, I already feel out of breath and clearly turned on.

His kisses become more intense, his lips move from my mouth to my neck, leaving marks there. But it feels too good to make him stop.

"I will gladly hear your excuses, when someone asks you about your hickeys tomorrow. Because you will be all flustered, when you think again about this moment. Where you are ready to be fucked by your colleague, who you despise so much." I whimper as he pushes up my dress and his hands pull my tights down to my knees. The cold air hits my skin, but I don't really notice it, because his lips are on my neck again and his fingers connect first with my stomach and then further down. I hold my breath as his lips touch my ear and his fingers stroke my folds.

"So wet for me. Didnt think, I would turn you on this much." I kiss him to shut him up.

"You are-" I moan, when he finally puts a finger in me. "-so annoying." He laughs at me.

"Am I? But you seem to like it." I feel myself getting wetter, his fingers feel so good as they move gently but firmly inside me. One of his hands moves to push my dress further up and somehow, he manages to pull it over my head. Now, I'm lying in front of him in just a bra, his hands slowly find their way over my body and to my back, which I lift slightly so that he can open the clasp.

When I lie naked in front of him and he massages my breasts, his lips touch mine and his fingers stimulate me, I feel like I'm in heaven.

He breaks apart, so he can look at me and I draw my eyebrows together, when his fingers increase in speed. My mouth opens and the sounds that escape me echo in the apartment.

"I'm- god, I think I am going to come-" at that he starts to tease me, going slower but a lot deeper. My eyes almost roll back as he hits a certain spot inside me.

"That feels good? What do you say, when you want something?" You stupid idiot.

"You stupid-" I begin to say as his lips graze my nipple and his finger scissor and stretch me out further.

"One word, darling. Say it." And because I feel this knot inside me (and maybe this side of him turns me on, like a lot), I finally open my mouth to please him.

"Please, Mike. I-I need to-" My sentence is cut off as his fingers speed up and I moan loudly.

"Thats a good girl, you can be so good to me, if I make you." His lips search mine as I finally come. My breathing is heavy and when I come down from my high and look at his face, I see the satisfied expression.

"You are done-" I can't maintain my strict facial expression and suddenly have to start smiling. His eyes widen in surprise and I raise my eyebrows, still smiling softly.

"What?" I quietly laugh at his expression.

"Nothing, its just- I have never seen you smiling so happy." I roll my eyes gently. As I look at him closer now, I see the bulge in his pants and the loosened tie. As I lean forward, his eyes shift to my body.

"You still are fully clothed. A bit unfair, don't you think?" I watch him swallow and my hands move to his chest to slowly unbutton his shirt. As I also remove the tie and slip the shirt from his shoulders, I sit myself on his lap. Rocking my hips forward and seeing his eyes close. His hands move to my hips and begin to control the movements, my eyes close too and my head leans into the crook of his neck as the movements become faster.

Sighs and heavy breaths leave his lips and once again, one of his hands moves to grab my breasts, lightly grazing the nipples.

I look at him, noticing his swollen lips and his flushed cheeks. His hair is a mess and his forehead is furrowed, but he tries his best to pull himself together.

I groan as I look at him and suddenly think back to todays afternoon, when he was on a phone call and I heard how he listed one reciting fact after another, without any difficulty.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"N-nothing" I'm definitely too embarrassed to admit how much his intelligence and the way he seems to know everything, turns me on.

One of his hands moves to my entrance and teases me by just circling around it. When I try to push myself down, he pulls his fingers away.

"You tell me, whats going on in that pretty head of yours and you'll get me." My body feels so hot, I can't think properly anymore.

"You where on a phone call today and you just- you listed without any effort every single point that will help you win the case. You just said it like- it's nothing."

When his fingers dig into me again, I bite my lips. I try to control my moans and not pay attention to the fact, that I just gave him every opportunity to make him be more complacent than his usual self.

His fingers pump into me and I feel slightly overstimulated. But I wouldnt want to stop now.

"You get off by the thought of me, saying memorized facts? Who would have thought that my intelligence would turn you on so much." God, his ego probably doesn't fit in this apartment anymore.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, you still annoy me." Now I'm really just trying to get myself out of the situation. I lean towards him, so he can't say anything anymore and pull on his blonde hair to distract him.

Moans escape my lips and when I notice that his noises are also getting louder, I pull away from him. He looks at me confused.

"I want you inside me." Thats all I say, but he quickly complies with my request. I slide off his lap and wait for him to take off his pants and boxers until he's finally on top of me again. His fingers find my bottom lip and while maintaining eye contact, I open my mouth so he can insert a finger. My tongue brushes against his and after a few moments of him pressing on my tongue, he lets his fingers move back to the spot that needs him the most.

He stretches me for a few minutes until he finally guides his cock to my hole and slowly penetrates me. My eyes close and I hear his breath in my ear as he pushes further.

"You are so tight- good thing finally someone fucks you." I nod without thinking and hear his laughter in my ear.

"You think so too, huh. Would you let anyone fuck you then?" My stomach tenses, I feel the pleasure growing again and every movement of him. This feels so good-

I try to shake my head, but I'm too lost in the sensations to pay much attention to his words.

"No? But I thought, you hate me. Why would you let me fuck you, if you don´t even like me?" His thrusts become faster and more uncontrolled, I feel him getting closer to his own high.

"I-" I try to stutter "d-don´t hate you." I feel myself getting closer and reach into his hair, pulling at the roots and feeling his lips on my shoulder. His thrusts become more powerful and as he moves his hand and massages my clitoris, suddenly everything goes white in front of my eyes and I come.

I feel every inch inside of me, feel his fingers brush over the visible bulge in my stomach and think to myself: god I feel so full

When he comes too, I moan so loudly that it's impossible that my neighbors didn't hear me. His hand finds its way around my chin, he slides a finger into my mouth and I feel my vagina tighten because of it.

He hisses and his thrusts slow down until he finally pulls out of me, trying not to fall on top of me. As I give him some space next to me, he falls halfway on me, but pulls me on top of him in the next second and I can hear his strong heartbeat. With his outstretched hand he pulls the blanket over me, that had fallen to the floor.

We both try to catch our breath and as the minutes pass, only the wind outside is heard. He is the first to break the silence.

"So, you don't hate me?" I lift my head from his naked chest to look at him.

"Only sometimes." He shakes his head and smiles, gently stroking my back.

The evening went by quickly, we ordered a pizza and ate it (clothed) on the terrace. We were going over his documents for tomorrow, I blushed at the thought that this was the real reason he came here, but he just hugged me from behind after we finished and continued watching the stars.

It's not really clear what this evening means for us, but I don´t want to get into that, not yet. Because I'm not sure what it means anyway.

Because now, I have to get used to the fact that his voice no longer irritates me, that his jokes no longer annoy me and that he as a person, is actually not as bad as I imagined.

"Who thought, I was the one to get you relax."

But he is still a show-off.

#suits tv #mike ross #netflix #tv shows #x reader #fictional characters #smut #enemies to lovers #hate fuck

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