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python333 · 1 year ago

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bedbound — python333

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synopsis you're on a mission and oopsie daisy you get trapped under a building!! you end up in the medbay and tf141 visits you one by one, each of them giving you a lil piece of their mind for going and getting yourself trapped under a collapsed building.

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 4.5k

warnings pretty detailed (i think) descriptions of [reader] being in pain [specifically having a bunch of leg injuries], angstier than i usually write, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note this is my first actual fic ive wrotten in MONTHS so i hope its okay! so sorry if it feels like a majority of the focus is on the reader, i had a too much fun writing out the first part where they get crushed :3 i am also once again begging for requests. like on my knees hands together begging for requests. its the best way of getting motivation istg. anyway, this is all mild hurt/comfort and some angst + fluff so enjoy!! :3

You tried running out of the building—you didn’t expect the whole damn thing to come crashing down on you.

You’d just been chasing after an enemy soldier moments ago, dashing into the building, when suddenly the whole building seemed to shake. Then, the whole thing seemed to just collapse. When you think about it now, you realize the shake must’ve come from a nearby explosion, an explosion somehow powerful enough to damage the structural support of the building so terribly that it couldn’t hold itself up anymore and instead fell down onto you.

Now, here you were, just ten steps away from the entrance of the building, stopped by the huge slab of concrete and twisted metal that pinned your legs down to the ground. Your earpiece fell off when you fell down, sliding across the floor, preventing you from calling your team.

Sure, you could try and move your legs, but the excruciating pain that came with each movement wasn’t worth it. You think your legs are broken with the way your nerves scream at you every time you move them, and with how uncomfortably and horrifyingly disconnected they feel.

“I’m making shit up,” You whisper hoarsely to yourself, ignoring the tears that welled up in your eyes from the debris and dust in the air, “They’re not broken. I’m making it worse for myself by thinking that.”

In the back of your mind, you remember that you’re quoting Price on that one, from the last time you got seriously hurt like this. You vaguely remember your panicked words and Price’s soothing voice that came after every worry, telling you that no, you’re not too badly hurt, it’s gonna be okay, you’re just panicking.

But in the forefront of your mind, all you can do is think about how you can’t reach your earpiece to talk to your team, the only thing you can do is listen to their worried voices.

The earpiece is loud enough for you to hear, even though you’re just out of arm’s reach from it, you can still hear your teammates repeating your call sign and asking how you copy. With the stupid Push-To-Talk thing, you can’t even just respond, no, you have to push the button on the side of your earpiece to unmute yourself.

You stretch your arm out just a little bit more to try and reach the earpiece, but when your leg starts to strain and your nerves light up you immediately give up, letting out a small, pained huff. You take a moment to just lie there and listen to your own labored breaths, every other breath hitching or catching in your throat.

You swallow down a sob that threatens to bubble out of your throat and try to reach again and—nope, that still fucking hurts.

You bring your hand back and put it over your mouth to muffle a small sob that climbs up and out of your throat, and try to take a deep breath the best you can with the debris in the air.

You feel a slight discomfort in your chest and cough, horrified when you see small specks of dust in the air you cough out, and God, the sight of it makes you want to rip out your lungs.

You feel the sudden urge to cough everything out, to flush out the dust in your lungs, to get rid of the uncomfortably full feeling you feel in your chest, but you know that every time you cough you can only exhale more of that debris-filled dust back in so now you’re trapped in a loop and—

“[c/n], how copy?” God, you want to yell at them that repeating that question won’t help, but you know there’s nothing else they can do. They’ve already asked where you are, if you’re okay, and how you copy multiple times, all of which got no answer.

They’ve only experienced radio silence on their end, and the thought makes you feel guilty for not being able to suck up the pain in your legs and just reach over to the damn earpiece and tell them you’re trapped.

You take a few deep breaths, trying your best to ignore the way you can literally feel the dust entering your lungs, and reach. You stretch your arm out the farthest you can, and feel the strain in your leg, and you’re almost to the earpiece, just a few more inches— pop.

A bone chilling pop rings through the air the moment you manage to snatch the earpiece, and good thing it was at least after you managed to grasp it firmly in your hand because you recoil back on instinct and gasp.

The gasp only lets in more dust, and you cough, wet tears dripping down onto your cheeks as you go through a seemingly endless loop of coughing out dust and inhaling debris and coughing it out again only for new dust to make its way into your system.

You stifle a pain-filled whimper and try to control your shaky breath, gripping the earpiece firming in your hand, looking down at it, looking at the sheer amount of debris on it. You bring your free hand out and wipe away the debris with shaky hands, making sure it’s clean enough to put in your ear before you carefully insert it.

It takes you a moment with your trembling hands, but you manage to do it, and you listen to Price ask how you copy one more time before you push down on the PTT button.

“Copy—” You hoarsely say, before coughing, everyone on the other line going silent, “Copy, not doing very well over here.”

“What happened?” Price’s voice crackles through on the damaged ear piece, “Are you hurt?”

“I got trapped under— under some concrete, and I…” You take a moment to catch your breath, “My legs are pinned, I can’t move.”

“Okay, okay,” Price’s voice softens, his tone becoming more soothing, “Where are you?”

“In a building— dunno which— which one… it’s by the really tall one,” You breathe out, mentally slapping yourself in the forehead for not being able to remember, “I’m sorry, I just know it’s orange and it has the entrance that Ghost bumped his head on—”

“It’s okay, I know which one you’re talking about,” Price reassures you, “Catch your breath. I’ll be there to get you out of there, okay? Just stay still, don’t move a muscle, you hear me?”

“I hear you,” You mumble, trying to catch your breath, coughing at the amount of dust that infiltrates your lungs. You bring your hand off of the PTT button and sob once, quietly, and sniffle to try and stop yourself from crying, blinking away tears.

The tears that trailed down your face earlier now only make you realize just how much dust and grime is on your face, how the tear trails must’ve been the only clean lines on your face, how there’s a whole layer of pure filth on your face and you can’t even properly wipe it away because your hands are dirty too.

The pain in your legs are throbbing and you know that you’ve torn some of the muscle in your thighs, and you know the popping noise had to have been your hip, from the unnatural way you’d twisted it to reach your earpiece. You don’t even have time to think about how pathetic you look when suddenly Price opens the barely-hanging-onto-the-hinges-door, looking at the floor for a moment before his eyes finally land on you.

He immediately walks over to the slab of concrete pinning your legs down and forcing you to lie on the ground and you can hear him faintly murmur, “Oh, God,” and kneel down to the same level as the concrete.

You turn your neck to look at him and watch as he looks at the concrete for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to lift it, before he simply grabs the edge of the concrete and, with a grunt and after a good thirty seconds, he manages to lift one end up and flip it over onto its other side. The circulation that immediately floods back to your legs and the sudden feeling of weightlessness you get is almost too much, and you can barely find it in yourself to feel shame as you let out a small, relieved sob at the sudden rush of blood to your legs.

Price immediately gasps and you can’t see much from your angle but in the midst of your relief you suddenly feel a pang of pain and oh God, that hurts. You can recognize now the warm blood that accompanies the drying blood on your calf, and with the blood rushing into your legs, more spills out from the wound in your leg. Vaguely, you can remember twisted metal doing something to your leg—stabbing it, maybe? Your brain becomes fog-filled; too hazy to think through but just clear enough to register the throbbing pain in your leg.

“I’m so sorry,” Price murmurs softly, and before you can question him he takes the metal out of your leg and you let out a closed-lip scream, slapping a hand over your mouth to try and muffle the now uncontrollable sobs that break past your lips, the pain you feel making you light-headed.

Price quickly pulls a tourniquet out of one of the many pockets of his tactical best, wrapping the bright red strip around your leg just above the bleeding, blocking the blood from reaching past that point. He tightens it and rolls you over so that you’re laying on your back, making you stifle another pain-filled whimper. Without another word, he slips his arm under your knees and his other below your back and lifts you up bridal style, making you gasp sharply and cry out for a moment in pain, a few drops of blood making it onto the floor from your calf, the whole sight dizzying.

Being lifted up like this gave you vertigo—your head spun as you were lifted up and you could barely process anything with your hazy mind. Price mutters small ‘sorry’s under his breath, carrying you out of the door and quickly running with you in his arms back to where the others are, almost wanting to cry for you, seeing how much pain you were in.

Your eyelids drooped and your eyes shortly became half-lidded, and your ears started to ring, and everything was so overwhelming you just wanted it to be over.

Price notices your eyelids drooping and quickly says, “Hey, hey, don’t pass out on me, you gotta stay awake, kid.” You can only shake your head ‘no’ because talking feels like too much right now and let out another small, pain-filled whimper, just the sound of it making Price’s heart shatter.

You can only find it in yourself to talk a moment later, your words slurring together as you try to speak, “I can’t— can’t… I’m sorry, I can’t—” You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, what you’re trying to warn Price about, but he seems to know.

“No, no, no—” Price tries to beg you, as if you had enough strength to stay awake. Those are the last words you hear before you completely black out.

—

You wake up to a white ceiling and the faint beeping of a heart monitor. You move your head around a bit, trying to gauge where you are, when you realize— oh, I’m in the medbay. You blink for a moment before sighing and just resting there for a moment, trying to recount the events that happened earlier. You don’t have time to go down memory lane, though, because suddenly the curtains in front of your bed are pulled back to reveal your Captain. “You’re awake,” He states, closing the curtains behind him. “How could you tell?” He snorts and sits down in a chair by your bed. You look at him questioningly, “Where’re the others?” “They’ll be here soon,” Price assures you, looking at your blanket covered legs for a moment before looking back up at your face, “Medics said one at a time.” You hum neutrally in response to that and wait a moment before asking, “How bad is it?” “Your leg?” “Yeah.” “Well…” Price starts to list off on his fingers, recalling the doctor’s words, “The joint that connected your hips and your legs was twisted and it had to be set back to normal, your muscles were torn, your ligaments were torn, your nerves were so compressed someone had to physically massage your legs back to life, and the stab wound in your leg almost got infected.” “… Huh.” You blink at Price, before asking, “When can I get out of here?” “Why is that what you’re thinking about right now?” Price asks, confused, before sighing and answering, “Kid, your leg was basically broken. You can get out of here in maybe a few weeks to a month. Getting back to your assignments is a whole different story. It could take several months for your muscles to fully heal, and even then I don’t want you back out there for a while. Not until it’s guaranteed your leg won’t… give out, or something, out there.” You frown at Price, “So what, I’m just gonna be stuck here?” “What else are you gonna do with an almost-broken leg?” “…” Price sighs and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Look, I know it’s frustrating, having to sit here for a few weeks then be able to get out only to not be able to do anything too physical, but your leg muscles were torn. You were trapped under concrete. You’re not going on any missions any time soon. I feel like that should be kind of obvious.” You can understand it, knowing the condition you’re in now, but you still deflate a little where you lie down and let out a tired, frustrated huff. Price chuckles softly at your clear display of disappointment and rubs your shoulder gently before patting it and getting up. “I guess I have to let the others see you too,” He muses, making your lips twitch up into a smile, the sight making him smile in return, “But I’ll be back tomorrow to talk to you again, alright?” “Alright,” You nod, watching as he walks past the curtains blocking your bed from the rest of the medbay and listen as the door clicks open and closes shut. Not even a few seconds later, the door opens again, this time with someone walking faster to the curtains, pushing them aside eagerly. You quickly recognize Soap as he walks in, quickly closing the curtains behind him before rushing over and leaning down to hug you. This all happens so quickly you have to take a moment to process it, but you eventually hug him back, sighing at the warm embrace. “I want tae call ye stupid sae bad,” Soap mumbles into your neck as he hugs you, “but it wasn’ even yer fault sae I can’.”

“That’s the worst thing that’s happened all day,” You mutter sarcastically, making Soap laugh quietly. He pulls away from you and looks down at you. “It is, actually,” Soap says, and at your confused and mildly offended expression, he adds on, “It’s been over a day since ye got yer leg fucked up.” “… Oh.” You dumbly said, trying to process that. Over a day. “Everyone was really worried about ye, too,” Soap tacks on, refusing to sit on the chair behind him, simply standing by your bed. You stay silent, and Soap takes that as an invitation to keep talking. “I think that's the first time I've actually seen Ghost stressed," Soap muses, making you huff out a small laugh. “Really?” “Yea,” Soap smiles, “I ken. Stone cauld L.t, suddenly worryin’ o’er ye.”

“Isn’t that a surprise,” You mutter, a small smile gracing your lips thinking about Ghost worrying over you, “So you were all really worried?” “Very worried,” Soap nods, “Gaz thocht ye were gonnae die, poor chiel.” “Hm,” You hum neutrally. Soap stays silent for a moment before his voice softens and he quiets himself down a bit. “Try no' tae dae that again, aye? Ye'll gie the captain a heart attack," When you give him a pointed look, he rolls his eyes and adds on, “And me. Possibly. Maybe.” “Uh huh,” You look at him, unimpressed, “Right. I’ll try to predict when a huge piece of concrete is gonna fall on me.” “Ye ken wha’ I meant.”

“Never said I didn’t.” “Ye— y’know wha’? I’ll just leave then,” Soap says, feigning annoyance as he walks away from your bed, making you laugh quietly. He slips out and doesn’t bother to close the curtains behind him, simply walking out the door, not bothering to close that either.

You can hear him letting someone else know you’re ‘free to visit’, and just a few seconds later you watch Ghost walk in. You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, seeing as Soap had told you Ghost was worried over you, but you still find yourself a little shocked when he walks over to you and closes the curtains behind him. He sits at the chair beside your bed, and silently stares at you from the chair.

You stare back, not blinking, waiting for him to say the first word. You and Ghost’s silent staring match ends with Ghost sighing and speaking up. “How does your… leg feel?” “How do you think it feels?” You ask, deadpan, watching as Ghost’s eyes narrow. You blink at him for another moment before adding on, “It feels numb, right now.” Ghost hums at the actual answer and sits there awkwardly for another moment before stating, “Gaz thought you died. Or, were gonna die.” “I heard about that,” You respond, raising an eyebrow at Ghost, “Did he not know it was just my leg that got hurt?” “Hurt is a mild word,” Ghost mutters, before clearing his throat and saying, “No, he knew. He was more worried about all the stuff that got into your lungs.” “Oh.” “Yeah.”

You both stay silent for a bit, again, before you speak up, “So… are my lungs okay, or… ?” “No, yeah, they’re fine.” “That’s… good.” “Mhm.” Why is this so awkward? You purse your lips and turn your head back so that you’re staring at the ceiling rather than at Ghost, not knowing what to say. Why’d he even come in here if he was just gonna be awkward about this whole thing? It’s silent again, an uncomfortable sort of quiet that’s silent yet deafening at the same time—and you hate it. It seems Ghost hates it too, because he shifts in his seat, not saying anything verbally but you can tell by his body language it’s awkward for him too.

This goes on for maybe a minute or two, when suddenly Ghost gets up and walks the short one step between him and your bed and leans down to hug you. Like the silence, the hug is awkward, but unlike it, it’s comforting. A comfortable awkward? You tentatively hug him back and you feel his hands snake underneath your back, forcing his arms under you so that he can hug you properly.

“I know Soap told you I was stressed and worried and whatnot,” Ghost mutters, his skull mask pressing into your shoulder, “… And he was right.” “… Did you think I thought he was wrong?” “Shut it and let me try to talk.” “Yes, sir.” Ghost sighs and takes a deep breath before continuing, “He was right. I was growing greys watching you passed out, and I think I almost passed out as well, hearing you were trapped under a huge block of concrete and got stabbed by metal.”

“Did you ever find out what the metal was?” You ask after a moment, making sure he was done talking.

“The Captain said it was a twisted pipe.”

“Huh.” You lay there for a moment, simply enjoying Ghost hugging you, before Ghost speaks up again.

“I know it wasn’t your fault, but please, God, never do that shit to me ever again.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m in a collapsing building.”

“I’m serious,” Ghost pulls away from the hug and looks down at you, keeping his hands on both of your shoulders, “I had to drive a car with you in the back passed out laying in the trunk with Price, all while not knowing what happened, and having to drive you guys back to base.”

“… Damn, you guys didn’t get a helicopter, or anything?”

“[c/n].”

“Sorry.”

Ghost sighs, “I’m trying to say that I don’t like worrying over you like that. I don’t like knowing that my kid is hurt, and I can’t do anything about it. That was the first time I was seriously worried and— and stressed over you, and it was terrifying, seeing you just passed out with dirt all over you and blood all over your leg, and just seeing you like that— I can’t do that again,” Ghost takes a deep breath, and looks down at you, trying to gauge your reaction, trying to see what you think of his words, but all you can think is, wait, he called me his kid?

“You called me your kid,” You dumbly voice your thoughts, watching as Ghost’s expression becomes more confused, and he opens his mouth to deny that when suddenly— oh shit, he called you his kid.

“… I did,” He dumbly says back, sounding surprised by his own words, before he fully realizes what he said and simply blinks down at you, not knowing where to go from here. You both blink at each other, not knowing what to say, before he clears his throat.

“I’ll just… head out then,” He awkwardly says, slowly walking away from the bed.

You take the opportunity to say, “Alright, dad.”

He freezes and slowly turns towards you and mutters, “Don’t call me that.”

A grin splits across your face, “Oh I will. Dad.”

He points at you with a single finger, “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“I’ll call you it in front of everyone. I’ll gaslight them into thinking we’re related.”

“God, you better not.”

“I will. In fact, tomorrow, I’ll begin with the Captain. Then I’ll tell Soap, he’s the next most gullible next to Gaz, who I’ll see right after you. Gaz won’t fight with me over it, he’ll just accept it, I know he will, then, and only then, will I tell everyone else. I spread it across the base like the flu. Everyone, and I mean everyone will think that you’re my father, Ghost.”

“That is…” Ghost blinks at you, dumbfounded and mildly horrified, “... terrifying.” “Yeah, I know. Pretty sure I got that from you, dad.” “Oh my God,” Ghost groans, making you laugh at his misery. He walks out without another word, being sure to slam the door behind him, making the poor medic passing by jump at least a foot in the air. You giggle quietly in your bed, waiting for the next person to walk in. By the time you’ve contained your laughter, Gaz walks in, looking strangely sheepish as he walks over to you and closes the curtains behind him that Ghost had forgotten to close. He doesn’t say anything until he’s right by your bed and bends over to give you a nice, firm, quick hug before standing up straight again and clearing his throat. “Hi,” He greets you simply. “Hi.” “How’s the uh… how’s your leg?” “You thought I died?” You ask teasingly, ignoring his question. You can’t see any blush on his face, but you’re almost certain his face heats up as he looks away from you. “Listen…” He sighs, looking back at you, “Price ran over to the whole group, with you not moving at all in his arms, and a tourniquet wrapped around your calf. I feel like it was a bit reasonable for me to think you were dead for a second.” “Right, of course,” You nod, definitely not believing that he only thought you were dead for a second, “That’s totally why I’ve had both Soap and Ghost tell me you thought I was dead. They only told me that because you thought I was dead for a second.” “I’m gonna murder them both, I swear to—” He mutters, burying his face in his hands, making you laugh quietly. He glares at you from behind his hands and adds on, “Oh, you think this is funny? You having a laugh down there, knowin’ that I thought you were dead?”

“I think this is hilarious.” “You’re insufferable and I don’t even know why I try to care about you anymore.” “You don’t try, you just do,” You roll your eyes, “Don’t act like you have to actively try and care about me.” “You’re so snarky today, my God,” Gaz scoffs, “Wait ‘til I tell Captain Price about this.” “Alright, Draco Malfoy. You do that.” “I shouldn’t have ever visited you in here,” He mutters, crossing his arms and looking away from you, feigning annoyance. You huff out a laugh at that and that makes Gaz laugh a bit, though he keeps up his dramatics, continuing to look away from you. “You still think I’m dead now, or?” “Shut it, you.” “My bad.” “I wish they amputated your leg.” “No you don’t.” “…” Gaz can’t even argue with it, simply sighing and rolling his eyes before looking back at you, ”No, I don’t.” “I knew it,” You smile at him knowingly, making his lips twitch up into a smile. You think for a moment before tacking on, “Wanna hear what Ghost said to me?” That makes Gaz perk up and immediately reply, “Oh, absolutely.” Cue you both five minutes later, Gaz gaping at you while you laugh every other word, remember the horror on Ghost's face when he realized what he called you. Gaz covers his mouth with his hand, laughing into it, gripping the rail of your bed with his other hand, keeping himself up.

“He— oh my God,” Gaz laughs, trying to keep quiet so Ghost wouldn’t hear him, knowing the latter was right outside the medbay. He takes a deep breath and another before breaking into small giggles once again, making you do the same. After maybe a few more minutes of just pure laughter, Gaz manages to catch his breath and stop laughing, and you do the same. “I should probably head out now,” He says, sounding almost disappointed by the fact, glancing over at the closed curtain a few feet away from your bed. You nod in understanding and don’t say anything in response, making Gaz look back at you and add on, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow though, yeah?” “Yeah,” You confirm, making Gaz offer you a warm smile and lean down to hug you tightly one last time before getting up and walking over to the curtains, sliding them to the side and walking out, sliding them closed behind him. You hear the click open and shut of the door, as well as Gaz’s footsteps walking outside of the medbay and eventually fading into nothing.

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nataliasquote · 9 months ago

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Can’t You See This Is Breaking Me? | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves

Warnings: injuries, blood, stitches, no happy ending

wc: 5.2k

note: this idea was given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova (love you 🤍) and she’s fuelling my love hate relationship with angst. Also, this was so hard to condense, so I’m sorry if it’s lacking detail. I tried to cram three years of a relationship into 5k words :)

-⧗-

It was no secret to anyone how little regard Natasha had for her own life. Even since her very first Shield mission, she’d been a force to be reckoned with, partly down to her pure destructive nature. She didn’t care if taking down Hydra agents meant coming away with a bullet wound or two. Or if destroying an enemy testing laboratory meant four broken ribs and a cracked collar bone. As long as the job was done, that was all she cared about.

Nick Fury was getting tired of how many lectures he had given a young, 25 year old Natasha in his office when he’d read her completed mission report. He knew why she had such a blatant disregard for her life but it didn’t make it any easier seeing one of his best agents beaten and bruised each week. The redhead barely flinched when her wounds were inspected, but to be honest she didn’t really react to anything.

She was more of a ghost really, a pale figure soundlessly walking the halls at night. If her injuries didn’t let keep her awake at night, then the nightmares gladly took their turn, drenching her entire body in a cold sweat and leaving her shivering in her tangled sheets. But if the dark circles under her eyes looked worse, her friend and mentor Clint didn’t utter a word.

The structure and routine that manifested week by week kept her grounded and focused. Wake up, train, eat, surveillance, sleep. Missions were a welcome break from the otherwise monotonous rhythm Natasha had found herself in. She much preferred working solo as opposed to in a team, but Shield was all about team work so she had to suck it up.

A lot of the time she found herself alongside Clint Barton who weirdly offered her a feeling of comfort. She liked how he never pried too much into how she was feeling, or her past, but kept a look out for her whenever they were together. Her icy demeanour slowly melted away thanks to his warmth that he never failed to show her.

He showed her how to let people in, how to not keep her heart so tightly guarded in fear of actually feeling something about someone. And as much as she would hate to admit it, he was right. It did feel better knowing people cared about her. But it also terrified her at the same time. Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit.

Yet somehow she had managed to let her tough exterior be pushed aside just long enough for a certain someone to wiggle her way in and take up permanent residence inside the redhead’s mind.

Y/n Y/l/n wasn’t really anyone compared to Natasha. Sure, she was a shield agent, and a high ranking one at that, but that was nothing compared to an Avenger. She’d spend years in their shadow, always looking up to Natasha Romanoff. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s pretty badass.

But the young agent thought her relationship with said Avenger would end at idolisation and daydreaming. She never expected to suddenly be living amongst them in the compound. But when an empty training room was suddenly disrupted at three in the morning, it was a sign things were to change forever.

Y/n relished the silence that the training room at night brought. Most of her colleagues preferred to train in a group at 7am, but insomnia often brought her into the gym a lot earlier. She loved it though; a way to clear her head and exhaust her body whilst maintaining peak physical fitness required in case of a last second mission.

Lost in a world of music playing through her headphones, Y/n failed to notice the door slowly open, caught up in her boxing routine on the punch bag. She should have been more aware of her surroundings, like she’d been trained, so that she didn’t nearly jump out of her skin as a voice cut through her music.

“You’re gonna get a sore back if you keep using the wrong form.”

Without having ever met in person, Y/n would recognise that voice anywhere. She whipped around and quickly pulled her headphones off around her neck, cheeks flushing as she took in the woman in front of her.

A black sports bra and navy sweatpants was all that adorned Natasha’s toned body. She stood there with a hand on her hip, the other holding a small towel, a water bottle and her own pair of headphones. Y/n desperately tore her eyes away from the widow’s toned abs, feeling her own insecurities creep upwards. She itched for her sweatshirt that lay discarded on the bench just out of reach. That was the last time she ever trained in a sports bra.

“You keep twisting your back as you punch. You need to move from your hips.” Y/n just looked at her with surprise, not fully processing that they were having a conversation at all. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, sure.” That snapped her out of her trance. Y/n took a step back and allowed Nat to place her things down before she packed a swift punch to the bag, sending it swinging slightly on its stand. Y/n couldn’t lie, she looked really good, arm muscles tensed as she threw a few more punches. Her form was impeccable, but of course it was.

“When you swing round you have to rotate your hips for momentum. Just turning from your back will cause injury.” Y/n nodded, mirroring her stance on the punching bag beside Natasha. “Unless you’re doing lots of smaller ones, then you need to keep your hips still. That just comes from your shoulders.”

Nat threw a few more punches before Y/n copied, missing the small smile that broke out on the Russian’s lips as she observed. Fast learner, she noted, nodding in approval as Y/n turned back to her.

“Very good.” She bent down to grab her things, back muscles on full show to Y/n who just could not stop staring. You’d think she was used to the sight of toned bodies after working out everyday, but there was something different about Natasha and she couldn’t quite work it out.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, by the way. I work in-“

“I know who you are,” Natasha said casually, looking the woman up and down. “You work with Hill. She talks about you.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “She does?”

Nat smirked. “Yeah, why? Does she not talk about me?”

“No, she does- we do-“ what happened to calm and collected shield agent she once was? Reduced to a stuttering mess of words in front of a pretty redhead. God, Y/n cursed herself for not being able to talk to women.

“I’m joking, don’t worry.” Natasha gave her a soft smile before walking off to the weights section, her headphones shutting out the world so she could focus.

Y/n however, could not focus on anything except that brief interaction. It was probably so small in Natasha’s life, yet it would consume Y/n for at least a week, if not more. Maria was going to have a field day with this.

Except it wasn’t small in Natasha’s life. The flustered agent had left quite a mark and Natasha found herself creeping down to the gym at 3am most mornings, hoping to see the woman she’d grown to love so much. And, more often than not, Y/n was there, punching away at the bag and pausing when Nat came in.

Over a course of many weeks, both had changed their training plans to match each other. It felt nice working out with another, Natasha had to admit, and Y/n was so easy to talk to she set the redhead right at ease. They talked and laughed and Y/n noticed how the usually uptight Russian had come out of her shell a lot more since that very first night.

However, one night didn’t go so smoothly. Y/n was in the training room first, of course. She sat on the bench and adjusted her socks, keeping herself busy until Natasha arrived. The past couple of nights had been just her as the redhead had been on a mission, but Maria informed her that she would return tonight, so Y/n anxiously awaited her return. She was more worried about Natasha than she let on, but they had no relationship outside of those four walls so she bounced her knee, willing her new friend to walk through the doors.

And she did. Except this wasn’t the confident Natasha she usually knew. No, this Natasha was walking stiffly, almost as if she was in pain.

“Nat?” Y/n asked, standing hesitantly at the sight of her. Small cuts and bruises littered her face and what skin was exposed under the neck of her tactical suit. Agents always had to report to medical following their return from a mission, but by the looks of Natasha, she hadn’t done that. “Why- what are you doing here?”

“Can’t miss training with my favourite girl, now can I?” She tried to sound upbeat but it fell flat, her pain evident even in her voice.

Y/n pushed aside the butterflies that erupted in her chest at those words and sprung up to help her, guiding Natasha to the nearest bench and forcing her to sit. She took note of how Natasha’s hand tightly clutched her side and she feared the worst.

She thought for a second, feeling Natasha’s eyes all over her face. “May I…?” She gestured to the zip on Natasha’s suit and the redhead nodded, stiffly manoeuvring her arms out of her sleeves as Y/n tugged it down to her waist. The agent had switched to processional mode and ignored how close Natasha’s bra clad chest was to her face as she inspected her side.

“What happened?” She asked, crouching down with a hand gently resting on the redhead’s knee as she gently felt the skin around the wound.

“Some stupid agent snuck up on me and threw his knife. Shit aim though.” Of course she tried to make a joke, but Y/n wasn’t laughing as she looked into her eyes. The redhead almost wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have done if anyone else looked at her with pity like that, but Y/n was different. Safer.

“Why didn’t you go to medical?”

Nat looked down, averting her eyes. “I didn’t want to. I hate it there.”

Y/n knew not to push. She didn’t know much about Natasha’s past but knew enough to know that it must have been horrific to endure. She sat back on her heels and bit her lip in thought.

“Will you let me sort it? I keep a suture kit and supplies in my bathroom.” She caught Natasha’s eye and gently squeezed her knee, trying to establish enough trust between them to let her accept the help. But Natasha was stubborn, so there was truly no way of knowing which way she’d swing.

“Ok.” That was not the expected answer but Y/n was happy to hear it. She knew not to help Natasha up, the redhead probably would have punched her, so she collected her things and led them both back to her apartment, walking a bit slower than normal to help Natasha keep up.

Her room was nothing special and probably looked identical to Natasha’s as they both had Shield issued rooms. Although Natasha’s would be fancier thanks to Tony Stark and his upgrades.

There were no personal items on any of the surfaces, not even in the bedroom. Natasha looked around with a frown, not liking how bare everything seemed. Not homely, that’s for sure. Even the bedside cabinets were empty, not even a picture frame for decoration.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right out.” Natasha chose the couch by the small coffee table and sank down onto it. The couch wasn’t anything special and neither was the table, ring marks displaying its age and use on the surface. The overhead light was dim but brightened up as Y/n stepped back into the room, a medical kit tucked under her arm.

She worked in silence, only broken by a hiss of pain from Natasha as the alcohol stung her wound. Y/n muttered an apology under her breath but kept working, fingers brushing gently over the soft skin as she made light work of stitching it closed. They weren’t the neatest but they’d do the job just fine.

“Thank you for this,” Natasha spoke into the silence, her eyes fixed on her fingers that rested on her lap. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, trying to organise her thoughts. She had people who cared about her, the Avengers, but not quite like Y/n had. She didn’t care who Natasha was, or how well she could take down enemies. She just enjoyed her presence and cared for her as a human being, something she rarely felt like she was.

“Can I make this up to you?” She tentatively asked, the strong Black Widow now a weird mess of nerves. What even was this?

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Come out with me on Saturday, into the city. Can I buy you lunch?”

Y/n stifled her smile and hid her face whilst packing up her equipment. She knew Natasha was asking her out on a date, albeit in a very roundabout way. It warmed her heart though, seeing her so soft. It was a side very few people ever got to see.

“Ok, sure. I’d really like that.”

Natasha smiled. “Now I know where you sleep, I’ll come pick you up.”

Y/n scrunched her nose at the odd phrasing. “You had to make it weird.”

“You know me,” she replied with a wink.

~~~

That date was a catalyst for many more to follow, and many midnight training sessions too. It took six more months of flirting and secret meet ups before Natasha pulled her heart out and wore it on her sleeve, asking Y/n to be her girlfriend.

The agent wasn’t stupid, of course she said yes. And at first their relationship was purely in the honeymoon stages; sneaking kisses in the hallway, comforting touches underneath the table, more midnight training and also moving in together. Natasha’s apartment was bigger than Y/n could ever have imagined and she adored the bed, starfishing face down on the mattress the first time she saw it.

But that was two years ago. Sure, they were still very much in love but something had shifted between them, creating a rift that Y/n had started to notice more and more. She knew what was causing it too.

Natasha was going on missions every other week, for days at a time. And she’d fallen back into her old habits, putting the job and the result over the safety of herself. More times than not did she come battered and bruised, open wounds bleeding as she walked into the bedroom. Y/n begged her to stop, to stay home more, to reduce the amount she went on even just to one a month, but her desperate attempts were met with a slammed door and a wall in Natasha’s mind. But she still persisted, trying again the next time Natasha came home. But it was useless.

Y/n always waited up for her though, the nerves of what state Natasha would be in when she returned making sleep pretty much impossible. Whatever she imagined, somehow it was always worse. She used to quiz Natasha as she led her into the bathroom and patched her up, placing kisses on each bruise that she found.

But now they barely said a word, Y/n almost running on autopilot as she cleaned cuts on Natasha’s back for what felt like the millionth time. It was draining her, anyone could see that, and being on edge all the time had made Maria notice.

“Take a week off to clear your head,” her supervisor had ordered, not taking any protests into consideration. “I don’t want to see you in this office before next Thursday, Y/l/n.”

A week off would have been great for anyone else but her. Natasha was away, again, which left Y/n with no ways to fully distract herself like she usually did to cope. She spent the first day in bed, holding onto Natasha’s pillow as her tears soaked the pillowcase. She hated how out of control she felt when Natasha was gone. It was her job, yet Y/n often wished Nat would retire, or at least pull back from constantly being in the field. But that’s what her girlfriend loved, so she had no choice but to respect it.

But on the third day of very little sleep and increasing stress levels, Y/n hit breaking point. She stared at her ghostly reflection as she splashed her face with some water, trying desperately to snap herself out of the lie she was feeling. But under the glaring lights all she could focus on were the heavy bags under her eyes and her discoloured skin, pink blotches littering her cheeks and forehead. She’d been picking at her skin to cope, but it did nothing but make her look worse.

She remained a zombie all day, curling back under the covers at 7pm to shut out the world. There was no telling when Natasha would return but part of her didn’t want it to be yet. She didn’t want to see the state she was in, the mess that she’d have to clean up. She loved Natasha, she really did, but with no contact allowed on her missions and no updates from the team, Y/n was starting to question if their relationship was even working.

She flicked off the light and turned to face the wall, images flashing in front of her as she worried herself stupid about her girlfriend. What if she wasn’t coming home? What if she’d been kidnapped? What if-

The apartment door opened.

Y/n held her breath, pulling the covers tightly under her chin as she waited. She knew the sound of Natasha’s footsteps based on her different moods, but the assassin stepped so lightly it was hard to tell. She felt footsteps getting closer and closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to face the horrors to come. She wanted one more blissful moment, but her heart was racing in her chest and her throat was getting tight.

The bedroom door opened.

Light from the living room flooded in through the small gap as Natasha stepped through, brows furrowed at the darkness. It wasn’t that late, but maybe she’d missed something. Wasn’t like she was around much.

“Y/n?” She whispered, not wanting to turn the light on. But she didn’t need to worry about that when suddenly the room was bathed in light. Her girlfriend was sat up in bed, eyes blotchy as she stared at her with a hand on the light switch. “What happened?”

“What hurts?” Y/n asked, sliding off her side of the bed and padding over to the bathroom. “Stitches? Probably bruising too.” She was talking to herself more than Natasha, hands working to gather her supplies. But she was stopped when a pair of rough hands gathered hers inside them, tugging her away from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” Natasha said, removing one of her hands to gently cup Y/n’s chin, tilting her eyes to meet her own. “Just a couple of bruised ribs, but that’s nothing.”

“At least let me look at them.” Natasha knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so she unzipped her suit and pulled it to her waist, revealing the nasty colourful sight. It was swollen and tender and Y/n cursed under her breath. She grabbed the tiger balm and gently applied it, trying to steady her shaking fingers as they touched Natasha’s skin.

“How have you been? How’s work?”

“Its fine, thanks.” Y/n wasn’t going to admit that Maria made her take a week off. She avoided Natasha’s gaze as she worked, even though there wasn’t much she could do for bruised ribs. “I’ll get you an ice pack when you’re dressed.” That was Natasha’s dismissal cue and she took it, but not without lingering in the doorway to watch Y/n for a moment.

By the time Natasha was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/n had wrapped the ice pack in a towel and handed it to her. There was an uneasy tension between them and Natasha could see something was on Y/n’s mind, just waiting to be said.

“Y/n-“

“This is your last one, right?” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out. Somehow she found the confidence with her back to Nat, sitting on her side of the bed. “Please tell me it’s your last one.”

“Of what?”

“Your missions, Natasha.” She bent one knee and tucked it beside her as she turned her body to face Natasha who was still standing in the middle of the room, ice pack pressed to her ribs. “How many times are you going to keep doing this? Coming home in a state! I never know if one day you’re just not going to come home at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip. She knew this was going to happen, it always did. And shutting Y/n down didn’t exactly get easier with practice. “Don’t do this again Y/n, please. You know what my answer is.”

“No, Natasha. I’m not gonna accept that anymore. I’m not asking you to quit all together. I just mean reduce the number you go on, take up desk work or surveillance, just something, anything, to get you out of the firing line.” Y/n ran her hands over her face, trying to keep herself together. But the more she spoke, the stronger her emotions got. “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Natasha had placed her ice pack on the bed, not feeling the need to hold it up right now. She couldn’t move, even though she wanted to run to Y/n. “I know you don’t like it-“

“I hate it.”

“Ok fine, you hate it,” she held her hands up in defense. “But that doesn’t mean I suddenly have to stop.”

Y/n stood up from her position, not wanting an ache in her back from turning so much. She and Natasha were now at eye level although the redhead’s stoic face was a lot more composed than her own.

“You’re not listening to anything I say. I never said you had to stop. Ever. Because that would be hypocritical coming from me.” Natasha pulled a ‘sounds about right’ face which Y/n just ignored. “I’m just asking you to reduce the amount you go on. Once a month, maybe? You can still be in the action, still do everything you love, but that way you’re safer and you’re here more. I hardly see you.”

Natasha shook her head. “Our line of work isn’t safe Y/n, even you know that surely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting defensive, having reached her limit of Natasha trying to shut her down.

Natasha was too stubborn to give up, even when she knew she fucked up. She just couldn’t let it go. “You rarely leave this place! Always stuck in the same office, the same four walls going insane every day! I don’t know how you do it! I’d rather quit than do that.”

“I do that because I can still contribute to the missions without the risk of getting blown to hell,” Y/n spat, taking full offense to Natasha talking down about her job. Sure, she didn’t go into the field as much as the other agents but she preferred to be in the chair, handling everything from above. “And you know damn well those missions you love don’t work without someone like me.”

“And that’s great, for someone like you. But I can’t do that, you have to understand me. I can’t be behind the fight, I have to be in it.”

“No one else goes on as many as you do, Natasha. Don’t you think that just once, someone else can take a mission-“

“I don’t care Y/n!” Natasha may be a passionate person but she never raised her voice. So her elevated tone made Y/n’s jaw clench, her innate response whenever someone shouted at her. “You don’t get to dictate my life! That wasn’t our agreement-“

“Agreement? What, so this is, are we some kind of, I don’t know, contract that you’re obliged to?”

Natasha scoffed, her eyes rolling back at the pure ridiculousness of her statement. This whole argument was pointless really but she entertained it, too stubborn to give in or let Y/n win. “Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m just sick of lying here in fear every week wondering if you’re actually going to come home or not! I can’t keep doing this Nat.” Y/n was having a hard time keeping Natasha in her vision as tears blurred in her eyes. But she wouldn’t let them spill. Crying meant Natasha won and she was done with backing down.

“We can’t keep having this conversation, Y/n,” Natasha grunted, running her fingers through her hair and tugging out the messy braid. “You know I can’t stop. This is my life, it’s what I was made to do. I can’t live without this job!”

“And I can’t live without you!” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down but she fought the urge to wipe it, praying Natasha didn’t see. But she did see. Of course she did. The Russian noticed everything.

Natasha went silent. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. In this line of work, relying so heavily on someone wasn’t a good idea. She knew that, it had been drilled into her since she was a child. But Y/n didn’t, and that’s where she slipped up.

“Don’t say that.” Heavy emotions and Natasha Romanoff didn’t really mix well. “You have to, one way or another. You can’t just rely on me Y/n.”

“Nat, I am in love with you but lately it feels like all you care about is your job. When is it going to feel like you actually want to be here? With me?”

“I do Y/n, I do-“

Y/n dropped her head. “I know there’s a but coming.”

Natasha looked at the defeated form of her girlfriend and winced. She never thought she’d ever be in the position where she had to choose between family and her job. But she knew what her choice would be, what it always had been. Long before she even had a family.

“This job means everything to me. I didn’t choose this life, like you did, I was forced into it. It’s part of who I am, and I can’t just stop doing that to be with you.” The second those words fell from her lips Natasha knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n adjusted the collar of her shirt and started to pace. If she was sitting down her leg would have been bouncing all over the place.

“What, that’s it? You’re just gonna call this whole thing off because you can’t take a break from your job?”

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“Us, Natasha! Us!” Y/n stopped in her tracks, gesturing between them both. They were on opposite sides of the room, a clear divide in space and opinion. “Unless there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. Maybe I’m just the girl who keeps your bed warm and stitches you up in the middle of the night, no questions asked. Occasionally gives you head if you are really in the mood-“

“Stop it Y/n.”

“Stop what? It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I am to you.”

“‘No, you’re so much more.” Natasha’s fingers were fidgeting with each other and they’d stumbled across a small cut on her palm that they were now playing with, the pain trying to keep her grounded. “But you have to understand that I can’t just take a step back. I love this job more than anything because I actually get to do something good with my skills that have been used for the opposite my whole life. I just need you to understand that, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Natasha just stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “No matter what, you will keep coming back here in a mess and I will keep fixing you up and we will keep having this conversation. Is there an end to this?”

“I won’t come here then.” Natasha stated simply, eyes darting momentarily to the bathroom door. “I’ll go to medical, where I should be.”

“You hate it there.”

“You hate me here.”

Y/n sighed, her breath shaky. This was the longest they’d ever fought for, and fighting Natasha was mentally exhausting. She had an answer to everything.

“I don’t hate you here, I just wish you’d fucking listen to me for one goddamn second!” Natasha nodded, almost challenging her to speak.

“I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but you haven’t exactly given me much of a choice. It’s me or the job, Nat. You choose. And you know what? If you choose me, you still keep half your job! But if you choose the job, you don’t get to keep half of me.” The last part sounded stupid but Natasha knew what she meant. She only had half of Y/n right now. The half that slept in her bed and fixed her wounds. If she chose her, she’d get the other half she fell in love with back.

But she couldn’t, could she? Natasha looked down, not wanting to watch Y/n’s face respond. “I’m sorry…”

“Get out.” It was barely a whisper but Natasha heard it. “Get. Out.” Y/n didn’t want Natasha to see her cry but when their eyes met again, Y/n’s were flooded with tears. She didn’t care, how could she when the green ones staring back at her were so cold. Natasha didn’t say a word, only grabbing her sweatshirt and slipping out of the room. The faint jangle of her keys sounded as the door slammed shut and only then did Y/n allow her walls to come crumbling down.

She collapsed onto the bed, only this time hugging her own pillow close as she choked out her sobs. They echoed around the room and her gag reflex kicked in from how hard she was crying. But all she could see was Natasha’s emotionless face staring back at her, not a hint of remorse visible in her eyes.

Reaching to flick off the light, Y/n caught sight of something that made her cry harder. Her bedside table hadn’t been empty for two and a half years. A single picture frame now sat there. And it was in that moment that Y/n wished it had just stayed empty.

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader

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twstfanblog · 7 months ago

Text

*~Period Drama~* Romance Era- Heartslabyul

A/n: It took me a bit to think of how to like...structure this but by dorm, by boy, and bullet-pointed was the best way to get this out. Hehehe. You guys enjoy these cursed Headcanons!

(Should I add the Period Saga tag list to this???)

||Heartslabyul|| Savanaclaw || Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore + Ignihyde ||Diasomnia||

It started off as a normal afternoon. You and your boyfriend just laid down for an impromptu nap, cuddled close together and safe in each other's arms. So you can imagine their surprise when they wake up to find the bed spotted with blood. Pulling the blankets back, they see the blood coming from you...

FIRST REACTION

Riddle

Freaks out. Just, he's trying to call an ambulance, he's ready to rain hell fire, he will actually chop someone's head off. He is honestly hyperventilating, just TEARS. How could this HAPPEN!?

The freak out was so intense that it freaks you out too until you catch back up mentally and realize, 'Oh wait, it's just my period.'

You'll have to calm him down before you start explaining because he's ready to commit murder and combust all at once. Just hold him and cuddle for a minute, he needs it.

So many fucking questions. For both of your sakes, let's hope you have a deep medical understanding of your period because he will accept nothing less in your answers.

Trey

Freak Out pt 2

Much less than Riddle, but man is CONCERNED. What do you MEAN you're bleeding out of your pussy and it's NORMAL???

Asks questions but keeps interrupting to be like 'What???'. Is trying his best but it's very clear he's having some type of internal crisis that's barely contained.

Once you've explained, he'll be pretty normal about it. You will catch him sending your crotch worried glances, but he will ignore you pointing it out.

Cater

He was .2 seconds away from calling the police and an ambulance and the National Guard and starting a live stream to call his followers to do a manhunt-

Does NOT believe you saying a period was normal. It is so out of the REALM of normal, this is not a funny joke. Oh Seven, you're SERIOUS.

You telling him about periods is lowkey destroying his world. Every little fact you give he's kinda just pacing the room giving you YouTuber reaction faces. Keeps repeating his questions because he hopes so badly you're joking and he's trying to trip you up.

Once he's accepted that this is just a THING YOU DO??? he's so tired. Just takes a moment to sit with his head in his hands. Let him just stew for a bit. He'll pop back up and ask if you need anything or if you want him to even be there. He will leave if you tell him to but he will then spiral when he gets back to his room.

Ace

What the FUCK!?

Thinks you somehow fell and just started bleeding. Literally so scared and freaked out that it looped into him just calling you a fucking dumbass while he tries to take your pants off to help.

He thinks you're lying. You're either lying to protect whoever hurt you or you're lying to keep him from ripping you a new asshole for hurting yourself this badly somehow. Takes a few tries for him to finally accept that you're telling him the truth.

'What the fuck, that's so fucking weird.' Lowkey grossed out, asks you WHY YOU DO IT (Like you can control it, dumbass)

Deuce

You got a grace period of about 20 seconds to explain before he just goes out to beat the shit out of some random NRC NPC who's been eyeing you up. His brain will fill in the blanks and he will act accordingly to whatever horror story he comes up with.

If you manage to explain in time, he is just CONCERNED. Asks if you're in pain, can he hug you? Wait do you want to be hugged? Should he leave? Wait are you just bleeding right now???

You could be talking and trying to explain more or try to calm him down but his eyes keep drifting to your crotch in minor horror. His brain is his own greatest enemy at that moment.

Lowkey he is scared, but very willing to be helpful.

HOW HELPFUL ARE THEY?

Riddle

Once he's had a good cry and cuddle, he is like the most annoying nursemaid.

He will order you to go to bed and STAY THERE until you've stopped bleeding.

It's a hard learning curve on what you really need to make your period comfortable, but give him a loose idea of what you want and he will do his best to get it for you. Loves having a nice cup of tea with you at night to help with your cramps.

He will collect all your homework and ask Ace and Deuce to take very good notes for you because he better not see you out of bed during this.

Once he's done with classes, he comes straight to Ramshackle to do chores and sit with you. Helps you do homework in bed, hand feeds you tarts that he had Trey make.

All-in-all, once he's out of class, you've got him all to yourself as a little butler.

If you have PMS irritability, though, watch out he will debate back with you and you'll have a screaming match.

Was really concerned about the blood mainly the blood getting on him, but give him one good puppy dog look and he's in the bed with you to cuddle.

Trey

This man is catering you your whole period. You don't even need to look at the kitchen because Trey is already putting food in your mouth.

A worrier, so the second he sees you in pain he's gonna try to give you something to eat, be it sweets or a nice soup.

Is fine with you walking around but if you do get really bad cramps, he'll try to convince you to stay home.

This man is large and his hands are big. Ask him and he will massage your back for you. Kneads you like dough.

Starts carrying little pain potions for quick relief but doesn't want to give you too many of them over the course of the week.

Super good at handling you if you have PMS mood swings since he's used to keeping Riddle from killing Ace and Deuce. Could possibly backfire though because sometimes you just wanna be angry and he's ruining that by being so helpful and understanding.

He was more concerned about your comfort but once he knows you WANT to cuddle he will be right in the bed with you until you kick him out.

Cater

Help him. He's trying to be fun-loving Cay-Cay but then he'll see you in the distance and he cant even pretend to be ok.

Kinda hovers but doesn't say anything until you do.

You've thrown him out of his element, and he's not even sure how to approach you.

Starts to manage when he approaches it like when his sisters would fight each other. Only it's you just fighting with your own body.

Best cuddler. He gets the pillows, the blankets, the candles you like. Turns his phone off and just HOLDS YOU. The phone comes back when you've fallen asleep so he can watch videos.

God, PMS emotions are a whole new battlefield that he's barely surviving. If you get it please warn him. He has his methods but he's gotta KNOW he needs to prep them.

Ace

Are you still doing that bleeding thing?

Acts like your period is the most annoying thing you decided to do.

Fucking protective as fuck. Will bully the other first years if they crowd around you in worry.

Though he acts inconvenienced, he will do whatever you ask of him with minimal whining.

Pretends you're begging him to cuddle with you when he's just crawling into the bed with you. Lowkey very nice to cuddle with because he normally has very warm hands.

The cause of the PMS anger like 4/5 times...

Deuce

He will carry everything for you. Is that actually helping? Not really but he's doing what feels right.

Tell him you want anything and he will get it. He has taken food out of Ace’s hands and given it to you.

It's kinda hilarious because he'll be going about his day normally, but then you'll call him and everyone watches this man drop EVERYTHING to see what you need.

Buys whatever you asked for in bulk, even if he doesn't need to. He thinks he's being helpful by buying you 5 bags of party-sized chips and 10 2-liters of the drink you wanted when you only asked for one of each.

He has just given in to the fact his hoodies are yours now. Wonders if he'll get them back once the period is over...

AFTER THE FACT

Riddle

He's now got your period placed on a calendar. Down to the day.

He's very proud that he already has your next period marked down on his schedule, everything is set

What do you MEAN you're not on your period? What do you MEAN your period came early!? He had a perfectly balanced schedule, what do you MEAN IT'S NOT ALWAYS 28 DAYS APART!?

Very upset if your period ever dares to 'go off schedule'. Manages to properly track it after a few months. Normally tells you when you're alone that your period is coming up.

He will ask you if you're on your period if he sees it coming up and you're upset. Please don't hit him, he's honestly asking.

Trey

WOW, that was...something...and it's gonna happen again huh???

Man's kinda dreading the next period but he does spend his downtime thinking up new recipes to give you during it.

Actually really thinks about the fruit and sugar content and how it could affect you, which fruits are good for cramping. Can he make something chilled for the headaches?

Doesn't really track your period but he will be extra conscious on your mood changes and then backtrack the days in his head to see if what he thinks is happening is.

Asks if you're ok instead if he thinks you're on your period; like a fucking decent human being.

Cater

Jesus fucking Christ, 28 days? Yeah, he'll manage to think up an actual game plan to deal with this by then. He doesn't, he fumbles through your period for a good few more times before he becomes well-versed.

He has an alarm set for the next 28 days. Lowkey forgot about your period until it happens again or when his alarm goes off for it.

Starts carrying extra pairs of your underwear and keeps one of his hoodies on him during your period. For emergencies.

Once he KNOWS you're on your period he will show up with a gift basket he put together of all your favorite things.

Wants to ask so fucking bad if you're on your period when your mood is weird, but knows better and likes not getting the spit slapped out of his mouth.

Ace

Complained more than you did during the whole thing. Acts like he isn't making the most deeply engrained mental reminder of everything that happened.

Doesn't so much as track it as he's now more aware of your mood changes during the month.

He normally asks if 'You're doing that thing again...' when he sees you kinda just lounging around miserable.

Still a brat but if you're actually having a tough period he will cuddle up and be your hot water bottle until the real one heats up.

Surprisingly doesn't ask if you're on your period during arguments. He knows next to nothing about periods but knows he will get his neck snapped if he asked that while you were already mad at him.

Deuce

So seriously asks you if you have to do that again.

Doesn't want to potentially embarrass you so he helps in tracking it by putting a red dot in his calendar for his own peace of mind. Forgets what the fuck it means after seeing it come up three weeks later.

Weirdly becomes able to sense when you start your period. Like to the minute.

You'll be in Ramshackle and your period starts. Deuce just suddenly stops at track practice like 'Something just happened...'

HOW HELPFUL ARE THEY? ♡NSFW♡

Riddle

You want him to WHAT?

Getting Riddle to fuck is hard enough as it is. You want him to do it while you're BLEEDING???

It takes a lot of talking and actually telling him the orgasms help with the cramping for him to agree. But even then he's very embarrassed and you can only do it in the shower together.

He'll act scandalized for an hour afterward but he is happy he helped ease your pain a bit.

Trey

What?

Like you both have sex regularly, he didn't think you'd...want to...while...okay...

Kinda awkward with it starting out but slowly gets more used to the idea.

He's gotta be extra cautious with cleanup since the blood is everywhere, but if it means you gotta take one less pain potion he'll do his part.

Not really into period sex, but if you ask he will help you. He just starts investing in some thick towels because he likes doing it on the bed with you.

Cater

...Yeah, Okay

Lowkey so confused but if you say it'll help, he'll help.

Really likes to finger you. Fucking paints his nails red during your period so no one makes a single comment on why his fingertips look pinkish.

Will get his clones involved if you ask him to/let him. Makes it a fun game on what's most sensitive, your pussy or your nipples?

Ace

"Gross, sure."

Literally what he says while already undoing his pants.

Like he flip-flops through your period as either being very supportive or the literal reason you're about to knock his teeth out. You have not been fucking.

So him hearing that orgasms help during this??? He's saying yes every time you ask and even offering when he sees you cramping.

Does make a comment on the period blood making it super easy to slide in. Lowkey kinda looks forward to period sex now.

Deuce

Is that...Safe???

Takes a bit of talking since, as far as he's seen, everything is achy and sensitive and you are very not in the mood like that. Not really the right setting for sex...

But once he's assured, he goes at it like getting you to orgasm is his fucking job.

Be warned, he will get into it and do his best to give you back-to-back orgasms. Overstimulation be damned.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #heartslabyul #heartslabyul x reader #riddle x reader #trey x reader #cater x reader #ace x reader #deuce x reader

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ohhappyday123 · 6 months ago

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Office Dynamics

The usual chaos at Dunder Mifflin was in full swing as you settled into your desk. You glanced around the office, noting the familiar faces: your best friend Pam at the receptionist desk, Dwight giving one of his many stern warnings to an uninterested Jim, and Michael hiding behind his office door, occasionally peeking out to see if anyone needed "managing."

You had been at Dunder Mifflin for a few years now, and over time, you had built strong relationships with your coworkers. You were especially close to Pam and Dwight. Pam was your confidante, the one who shared your love for art and a good cup of coffee. Dwight, with all his quirks, had become a surprisingly loyal friend. And then there was Jim, with whom you'd developed a complicated yet exciting "fling."

The camera crew caught you at your desk, and you gave a small wave before starting your work.

Interview with Y/N: "I love it here. Everyone's so... unique," you laughed. "Pam and I have been friends since I started, and Dwight, well, he's an acquired taste, but he's a good friend. Michael... he kind of sees me as his secret favorite. I don't know why, but I'll take it."

As you typed away, Michael's voice echoed through the office. "Y/N! Can you come into my office for a second?"

You rolled your eyes playfully at the camera before standing up and making your way to Michael's office. He shut the door behind you, a serious look on his face.

"Y/N, I need your opinion on something very important," Michael said, his tone hushed.

"Sure, Michael. What's up?" you replied, curious.

"I've been thinking about the next office party theme. What do you think about a ‘Scranton Renaissance Fair’?" he asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

You couldn't help but smile. "I think it's a great idea, Michael. Everyone will love it."

Michael beamed, clearly satisfied with your response. "I knew I could count on you, Y/N. You're the best."

You left Michael's office, feeling a bit lighter. As you walked back to your desk, you noticed Jim watching you with a smirk. You raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking what he found so amusing.

He got up and sauntered over to your desk, leaning against it casually. "So, the boss's favorite, huh?"

You shrugged, trying to hide your smile. "What can I say? I have a way with people."

Jim chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "Well, you certainly have a way with me."

Before you could respond, Pam appeared beside you, a stack of papers in her hands. "Hey, Y/N. Got a minute?"

You nodded, grateful for the distraction. As Pam led you to the break room, you glanced back at Jim, who was still watching you, his smile never wavering.

In the break room, Pam set the papers down and turned to you, a knowing look on her face. "So, what's going on with you and Jim?"

You felt a blush creep up your neck. "Nothing, really. We're just... having fun."

Pam raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Just be careful, okay? Jim's a great guy, but office flings can get complicated."

You nodded, appreciating her concern. "Thanks, Pam. I'll keep that in mind."

As the day went on, you found yourself in the middle of a prank war between Jim and Dwight. Dwight had somehow managed to get himself locked in the conference room, and Jim was pretending to have lost the key.

Interview with Dwight: "Y/N is one of the few competent people in this office. She understands the importance of structure and discipline. Jim, on the other hand, is a menace."

Interview with Jim: "Y/N and I have a good thing going. She's smart, funny, and knows how to keep Dwight in check. Plus, she's got this amazing smile that just... well, it's something special."

As you tried to mediate the situation, Michael called another impromptu meeting. Everyone gathered in the conference room, and you took a seat next to Pam. Jim sat across from you, giving you a playful wink.

Michael started the meeting with his usual enthusiasm. "Alright, everyone! I have exciting news. We're going to have a ‘Scranton Renaissance Fair’! And it was all Y/N's brilliant idea."

You felt everyone's eyes on you, and you gave a modest smile. "It should be fun."

After the meeting, as everyone was getting back to work, Jim cornered you near the copier. "So, a Renaissance Fair, huh? Any chance you’ll dress up as a princess?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Only if you dress up as a knight."

Jim grinned, leaning in closer. "Deal. But just so you know, I'm pretty sure I'd be the one saving you."

You felt your heart race as you looked into his eyes. "We'll see about that."

The rest of the day flew by, and as the office began to empty, you found yourself alone with Jim. He walked you to your car, his hand brushing against yours.

"So, dinner tonight?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I'd love that."

Interview with Y/N: "Jim and I... we have this connection. It's fun, it's exciting, and it just feels right. I'm not sure where it's going, but I'm enjoying the ride."

As you drove home, you couldn't stop smiling. The day had been filled with the usual office antics, but amidst it all, you felt a sense of happiness and anticipation. Tonight, you'd get to explore whatever this was with Jim a little further, and you couldn't wait.

#jim halpert #jim halpert x reader #the office #the office us

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stariikis · 10 months ago

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enhypen as your valentine ᡣ𐭩 ꪆৎ ˚⋅༝༚༝༚₊˚⊹♡

pairings ; ot7_enha x fem!reader genre ; fluff, established r/s warnings ; light kissing and probably kinda cringe

heeseung ✰

heeseung would bring you on a karaoke date for valentine's day. child-like excitement glossing over his eyes, he'll pick out the cheesiest and most romantic love songs for you both to sing to. he'll choose the songs with both male and female parts - even though he gets so enthusiastic he sings the female parts on your behalf.

"why aren't you singing anymore?" he asks innocently, as if he didn't just steal your spotlight away from you.

"you're singing for me!" you feign annoyance, laughing at the guilty look that instantly crosses his features.

after clearing that up, he goes to the digital screen and selects 'i see the light'. this time, he leaves you to sing your part, a proud smile gracing his cheeks. and as the song ends, he leans in to press a small kiss to your cheek. "you sing like an angel."

jay ✰

jay would cook a special three-course meal for valentine's day. a mere three hours after his special breakfast in bed. somehow, without him even asking you, he has your favourite foods laid out on the dining table for you. it's a pleasant contrast to the instant noodles you've been downing the past few days, studying for exams and all.

for some reason, he seems nervous and paranoid as you try his cooking. "does it taste okay? do you need more seasoning, dear?" he asks repeatedly, worry furrowing his eyebrows.

only after reassuring him for the 347824th time that his food tastes immaculate (and is not at all overcooked or under-cooked) does he calm down and start to eat with you. jay may have cooked for you many times before, but nothing feels as special as this, even when he asks you the simplest of questions. "what else do you want to do today?"

jake ✰

jake would bring you out on a picnic date for valentine's day. however, your attention isn't on him. it's all on layla. she receives all the kisses, cuddles and special treatment, even when jake tries to show you his homemade ham sandwiches.

you notice the light slowly fading out of his eyes, but continue to tease him by turning to layla and cooing, "did you make anything for the picnic, my sweet girl?"

jake falls silent and starts laying out the tupperware boxes, full of assorted candies and goodies, and that's when you start to feel guilty. you nudge his elbow, pouting at him. "your sandwiches look really pretty!"

you could swear you see puppy-dog ears perking up atop his head as you speak. he grins at you. "really?" and you nod vigorously, leaning in to kiss him gently. your mind starts to wander as he starts pointing out the blooming cherry blossoms, though. what if he and layla are the same soul split into two different creatures? pretty believable, right?

sunghoon ✰

sunghoon would buy you lego flowers on valentine's day, on his way back from dance practice with the other members. he wouldn't know which flower you'd like to build the best, much less does he know your favourite flower because you two never bother to ask each other these types of things. so he just blows his money on all the variations on the toy store shelf.

he comes home, sweating profusely to your shock, and dumps a heavy plastic bag on the floor. for some reason he looks proud as he points at it, still trying to catch his breath. "take your pick! let's do it now, right now!"

in honour of valentine's day (and because you, ironically, don't have a favourite flower) you choose the pink tulips set. after opening all the plastic bags and laying out the instruction sheet, lego pieces scattered all over the place, you both get to work. a couple of hours later, you have one final piece left.

"care to do the honours?" you ask sunghoon, handing him the small circular piece. he salutes, and presses it into the lego structure - a little too hard. lego pieces go flying everywhere, to both of your dismays. you don't know whether to laugh or cry, but sunghoon just starts cackling like a witch. "at least i get to spend more time rebuilding it with you, no?" "darling, you've forgotten that we have 50 more sets."

sunoo ✰

sunoo would already have planned a full day of activities for valentine's day. first you'll grab brunch at a nearby cafe, then you'll go couple clothes shopping at the mall, then you'll go take photobooth pictures, then-

"wait, i'm already lost..." you look at sunoo, confused. your interruption seems to dampen his animated energy, and he pouts at you.

"brunch, clothes shopping, photobooth, more shopping! and even more shopping!"

you take a while to process it before dissolving into a round of applause for sunoo's detailed itinerary for the day. that day, you buy matching pink vests with cute heart stitches on them, take photos with the prettiest frames you've ever seen, and he treats you to strawberry milkshakes. "you're just as pretty as the colour pink, in my opinion."

jungwon ✰

jungwon would try (and fail) to bake you chocolate-chip cookies for valentine's day. at first, you wouldn't suspect a thing. his cookies look pretty much well-baked, with just the right consistency of dough in the middle. there's an even sprinkle of chocolate chips throughout the cookie, so it's not too many or too little.

but you have to refrain from choking the moment you put it in your mouth. they may look soft to the touch and innocent, but they crumble like dust the moment they hit your tongue. it's so dry you forget how to breathe for a few seconds. jungwon notices you stifling a few coughs and looks devastated. "are they bad?"

"no..." you lie. "i just choked. but, um, they're a little bit dry. did you put too much flour? or not add enough butter?"

jungwon frowns and proceeds to check the recipe. upon doing so, his eyes go wide and he covers his mouth. "i forgot to add the egg."

"... ah." you smile awkwardly at him. "that must be it." he still looks pretty dejected about it, so you pull him close in a soothing hug. "it's okay, wonie. even if you're bad at baking, nobody needs to know."

ni-ki ✰

riki doesn't have anything planned for valentine's day. or so he says. you scoot closer to him during breakfast, blinking rapidly into his face. he takes one indifferent look at you and looks back down at his phone, feigning nonchalance.

you huff a sigh. he must be doing this on purpose to annoy you. "ki. do you know what day it is today?"

without looking up, he mumbles, "is today a special day? oh shit, is today your birthday?" that's when he straightens up and puts down his phone. this teasing is too much, it's gone too far. with a roll of your eyes, you smack his head and cross your arms. "riki!"

"okay! okay, i know what day it is," he laughs boyishly, patting your head. "don't worry, i have things planned for my sweetest valentine's gift." he physically cringes at himself after saying that, gripping your shoulders tight as if stabilising himself.

that night, however, he doesn't even cringe once as he kisses you beneath the bright and blooming fireworks, a plethora of colours from the very bottom of his heart.

thank you for reading! actually i rather enjoyed my first headcanon fic, will definitely make more in the future. happy valentine's day!

more of my works >>

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radiation · 2 months ago

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My Thoughts On MORPHEUS

Rewatched The Matrix yesterday. Everyone knows that Morpheus is fucking dope, but few realize he is one of the most moe characters of all time. Here is why:

Ok so at the beginning of the movie, Morpheus really appears to be this mythical figure, and that's how a lot of ppl view him. But something often overlooked is that, as the movie progresses, the more you see Morpheus acting mundanely, dressing normally, making mistakes, and getting the absolute shit beaten out of him & needing to be saved. Seriously, the gap between how he comes off when he first contacts Neo (larger-than-life, near-omnipotent) and when he gets kidnapped (totally fallible & vulnerable) is huge. You also see other characters doubt his absolute faith in Neo and it’s like wow yeah. This is really just some dude who is incredibly driven and passionate, and dedicated to his own ideals to a fault. He acts the way he does because he has a very clear image of the role he needs to play and has structured his life around it, choosing to embody this whole badass character in order to fulfill it. And from the way his appearance of perfection is shattered later in the movie in moments of monotony or when things spiral out of his control, I really believe how he acts when he meets Neo is suuuuper scripted. Like he has spent so much fucking time planning the perfect way to present himself and rehearsing exactly what he will say and do and how he will dress. And its funny to watch The Matrix knowing how totally badass & collected he is seen as in pop culture because he truly is incredibly incredibly dorky

This goes without saying but I also believe he is gay as fuck for Neo, but I need you to understand that the way he goes about it is sooo cute. I mean ok everything surrounding "You are The One and I've been searching for you for years" kind of speaks for itself. But also think about when Neo talks to the Oracle, she says this thing about like "knowing you're The One is like knowing you're in love". We can naturally really easily extend this metaphor to Trinity's explicit prophecy of her falling in love with The One, and knowing that's the case that also extends the metaphor to Morpheus knowing Neo is the one = Morpheus being in love with Neo. And I think how excited he acts around Neo, how physically affectionate he to him, arguably flirting with him during the dojo scene and shit bla bla bla sounds lame as fuck to write but I do think yeah whether literally or metaphorically that's kind of what's up. I think we can be confident that Morpheus loves Neo, and I think romantic love is a close approximation, or at the very least there are certainly real & valuable parallels to be drawn to it

But back to the previous paragraph, the specific kind of devotion towards Neo that Morpheus experiences where he is putting on all kinds of airs trying to mystify Neo, viewing himself as a supporting figure to prop up Neo as the savior -- Morpheus's underlying adoration is expressed through the language of respect, restraint, and selflessness, and a kind of self-sacrifice he is like...excited about. Feels very similar to the whole "best friend who is in love with the main character, but nobly tries to get him another love interest / somehow make his life better without any respect to his own desires". It's very sweet and well-intentioned, but totally excessive. Nobody else is asking you to go this far man this is just you. And it also comes off as a really big obfuscation of at least quasi-romantic feelings, both externally and internally, lacking a lot of self-awareness, so it makes it feel like Morpheus has this like elementary school crush he doesn't quite understand yet and it's really funny and delightful

There is definitely a certain writing style in The Matrix that is dramatic, over the top, and mythological, but compared to Morpheus, Neo and other ppl in his crew speak and act in ways much more grounded. Something I noticed a lot is just how much doubt and disillusionment all of the characters express in living life outside the Matrix, in the effectiveness of the revolution, and of Neo being The One, but Morpheus is totally an exception to this. The only person who puts on nearly as much airs, acting as dramatically and poetically as according to plan as Morpheus is Agent Smith, and like the dude isn't even a person he's a program. But even then Agent Smith expresses disappointment in his own life, and Morpheus doesn't. Seriouusly Morpheus is like the only guy in the movie who does this shit. By seeing himself as a mechanism in a prophecy to save the world and minimizing his own wants and discomforts for the greater good, he has kind of dehumanized himself in a way that's kind of sad. I think it's very easy to buy into it and take his self-perception at face value, and I think most people have, but there are a lot of moments in the movie where you can see through that. That underneath the appearance of a pure legend is a real person who means the absolute best, who is endlessly dedicated and adoring, but suffers from a one-track mind makes Morpheus a really fucking cool and unique character, and has one of the greatest impacts in making the movie's scenario feel believable. And also makes him sooooooooo cute. Anyways I forgoet what happens in the other mvoies this is only about the first one. Rewatch The Matrix 1 and open your eyes and you weill see the truth.

Also another thing I wanna mention that but its only tangentially related -- I think its very interesting how Neo is treated as a protagonist. I can't place exactly why but way the movie is written and shots are framed, he really isn't treated as an audience insert, and many moments in the movie are from other characters' perspectives (including their perspectives towards him, bereft of Neo's own expression). The movie honestly, more than identifying with Neo, expresses empathy and adoration towards him. So it kind of feels like literally everyone in the movie has a crush on him and so should you LOL. Morpheus is definitely a part of this, but I also appreciate the romance between Trinity and Neo feeling equally or more from Trinity's perspective, neither of them really being the object of desire, but if you had to choose one it'd definitely be Neo

Well let me know what you think & Dont try to troll this post because this is real shit

#The matrix

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snowonhuronstreet · 1 month ago

Note

(i tried making a scene but im tired as shit)

It wasn't really his fault. He swears.

It was just. The race had been exciting, competitive, cutthroat. Daniel and Carlos switched places from the first lap to the last, but it was Carlos that came out on top of it.

And not for luck, no. There was little luck in this sport. It was because, in some perfectly calculated, perfectly structured and timed way, Charles made the call. And Carlos stole their win with one of the best overcuts Max had ever seen since joining the sport.

So it wasn't his fault he was reading again and again all the data he could get his hands on. And all the radio transcripts of the race between Carlos and Charles. And rewatching the onboards.

"He's so hot." He couldn't help but say, groaning. The papers were sticking to his face where he was laying, face first, on Lando's hotel bed.

"Are those Ferrari data papers?" Lando spoke, his mouth full and eyebrows so raised they looked funny.

Max groaned again.

Daniel started to laugh in the middle of them. His honking laugh was as comforting as perfectly mocking.

"Can't you just suck his cock like a normal person?"

Daniel kept laughing, his face was getting red.

"Stop. You're killing Daniel."

Lando sighed, punching Daniel.

"Ouch, what was that for?!"

"Stop laughing and help me!"

Daniel uffed and turned Max face up, pinching his cheeks and trying to dodge his hands.

"Come on, Maxy, what are you afraid of?"

Max landed a kick to his shoulder, and was freed from his grip. "He barely tolerates me."

Lando facepalmed, "You can't be fucking serious, oh my god."

"Do you really-" Daniel tried to not laugh again, "Like, are you blind?" he waved in front of Max's face, receiving another kick. "There's so much sexual tension you're making the whole paddock your third wheel."

"There isn't. And we are collegues anyway, it woudn't work."

Lando took some of the papers in his hands, looking at them. "You're pathetic, do you know this?"

Max clicks his tongue. "I am, indeed, aware of this."

"Do you plan on doing anything about it?"

"Nooope."

"Nice work."

Daniel started to laugh again.

(sorry daniel didn't talk a lot. and lando is mean bc hes actually me dealing with my pining idiots friends. im writing this on a bus)

THIS IS SO GOOD THANK YOUUUUU 🫶🫶🫶

I love their dynamics so much and poor max pining secretly is so adorable!!! I bet daniel and lando are gonna trick max into being in the same room with charles somehow and end their friend’s misery once and for all... I just love how this whole au is expanding with these tiny pieces

(and I'm reading it on my way to a suuuuper difficult test so thank you for making my day better 😭)

#f1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #lestappen #max verstappen #red bull racing #charles leclerc #ferrari #engineer!charles #engineer!max #engineer/engineer!lestappen #ask #daniel ricciardo #lando norris #mclaren #f1 fandom #f1 fic #f1 rpf

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valleyof-goldenlilies · 11 months ago

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A Christmas Visitor - Modern!Jace Velaryon x Reader

Summary: Jace takes it upon himself to cheer you up for your first Christmas spent alone.

Pairing: Modern! Jace Velaryon x AFAB! Reader

Warnings: fluffy boyfriend Jace, profanity, blowjob, face fucking, degradation, mentions of masturbation (both f and m) (let me know if i missed anything out!)

Word Count: 1.92k words

A/N: hoe hoe hoe! a very merry late Christmas and Happy New Year in advance from me to you :) this one is for those Jace girlies out there ;) I hope you enjoy!

lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !

It was set to be a lonely Christmas for you.

But honestly? You had no one to blame but yourself. You were the one who had decided to migrate to another continent entirely for university, whilst most of your friends had stayed in King’s Landing, or other parts of Westeros, including your boyfriend, Jace Velaryon.

But Braavos University was undoubtedly the best university in the known world to pursue a degree in economics, and when you had gotten the acceptance email, Jace had urged you to go, telling you that you would be an idiot if you passed up on the chance.

Braavos was a wonderful place: a melting pot of different cultures, interesting architectural structures, along with an intriguing history. You loved studying and living here, but at times, especially now, during the festive season, you especially missed home. You missed seeing Jace’s wonderful, handsome, smiling face, missed his kisses, his hugs, his warmth, his everything.

In a video call with your boyfriend a few days ago, you had expressed how much you’d missed him, and he had given you a sad smile in return.

“I miss you too, honey,” Jace said earnestly, covering his headphones’ speakers again when a loud noise erupted from behind him. You winced at the feedback from the mic. “Cregan, hey bud, mind keeping it down a little?” Jace called out. “I’m video calling my girlfriend here.”

“Sorry dude!” A manly voice that was most definitely not Cregan called back, and you had to stifle a laugh at Jace’s knowing, disgusted look. “Ugh, these animals, I swear,” Jace joked, turning his attention back to you. His expression softened. “Hey honey, I know it’s hard on you. I wish there was something I can do to make you feel better.”

You smiled, trying to cheer up a bit for his sake. “It’s alright, really. I’m doing fine here, I’m just being a bit mopey because I miss you and stuff.”

“Aww,” Jace blew you a kiss through the computer screen. “I miss you too, honey. Uni life just isn’t the same without you. But you are still coming back for summer break, right?”

You nodded, blowing back a kiss to him. “Yeah, of course I am. I can’t wait-“ A crash and a gruff laugh sounded from behind Jace, and Jace’s eyes widened as he turned back to try and catch a glimpse of what was going on. “Jace, buddy, I might need some help here!” A voice that was definitely Cregan groaned out.

“I’m sorry babe, I gotta go,” Jace said apologetically. “Trust those guys to get wild when I’m trying to call my girlfriend.”

“No, it’s fine,” you tried to stifle a giggle. “You’re like their mom, you know.” “Am not,” Jace pouted, before blowing you a kiss. “I’ll video call you on Christmas, alright? I love you, baby.”

“Love you too, Jacey.” You blew him a kiss back before your computer screen went dark, and you sighed, slumping back in your seat. Video calling him had somehow made you miss him even more.

But alas, such was life. When the morning sunlight streamed through your dorm windows on Christmas Day, you had already carefully planned out your day.

“Okay, so,” you tapped your pencil on your paper, filled with a list of the things you wanted to do. First, I go across the campus to get those delicious pretzels from Lancelot’s Bakery, then I head to the grocery shop to get myself some chicken to cook chicken Alfredo pasta for lunch. Then-“

A knock at your dorm room caused you to look up from your list, puzzled. Your dorm mates had all left for their own homes for the holidays, so who could that be? You set down your pencil, moving to open the door. “Yes-?” Your jaw dropped when you saw who it was standing outside the door.

“Jace!” You let out a cry of delight at your boyfriend’s warm, smiling face. The smile that you had missed so much.

“Hey, baby-“ Jace barely had time to finish his sentence before you launched yourself at him, jumping into his arms and kissing him hungrily. Jace nearly staggered under your weight, hands going to stabilise you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He savoured the taste of your lips, feeling you melt against him and nearly tearing up when you realised that he was real.

Oh, how he missed you. How he missed this.

Jace quickly brought you into your dorm room, kicking the door shut behind him as he didn’t break the kiss. He set you down on the edge of the desk that you were writing on, tongue tangling eagerly with yours. “Mmm, I missed you so much,” he mumbled against your lips, fumbling for the zipper of the shorts that you were wearing. “I missed your lips, your scent, your pussy…”

You let out a laugh, breaking the kiss to rest your forehead against his. “Someone’s eager, huh?”

“Don’t act like you aren’t,” Jace chided, chuckling as he pulled your shorts off. “Nearly six months without you has been absolute torture. I had to stroke my own dick almost every night for the first few months you know.” A pleasant shiver shot through you at the imagery: Jace stroking himself to the thought of you every day, groaning as he spilled himself in his hand.

“Sounds like I should make it up to you then,” you said slyly, pushing yourself off the desk and getting on your knees. Jace’s breath hitched as he took in the sight of you, radiant, rosy, glowing, down on your knees in front of him. Where you belong.

You made fast work of his jeans, unbuckling his belt and tugging his jeans and boxers down in one go. Your mouth nearly watered at the sight of his length, long and leaking with precum. You ran your fingers along the vein in his cock, teasing him, and Jace groaned, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail. “Baby…don’t be a tease,” Jace’s voice was low, pleading. You simply laughed, looking cheeky as you debated on whether you should give him what he wanted.

Jace nearly saw stars when your hot mouth got to work on his dick, licking the underside of it, letting the precum collect on your tongue. His grip in your hair tightened. “Love…”

Slowly, you began to take his cock into your mouth. The loud, scandalous, squelching noise of you taking his dick inch by inch reverberated throughout your empty dorm room, making Jace grow even harder, if that was even possible. He had dreamt of this moment so many times for the last few months…

He made a low, strangled noise in his throat as you hollowed out your cheeks to accommodate even more of him, trying not to gag in the meantime. His fingers tangled even deeply into your hair, “That’s it, that’s fucking it. Take all of me in,” Jace encouraged you. “You can do it. You’re a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

Your answering nod caused your head to bob on his dick a little, and Jace moaned at the sight. He could just die happy now.

“Can I fuck your face, sweetheart?” Jace asked tenderly, but you knew that his tone of voice, while friendly, left no room for negotiation. So you only looked up at him with those adorable doe eyes, and nodded slightly. Jace smirked, pulling out a bit before thrusting himself back into your throat.

He continued to fuck your face, going slow and gentle at first, then his thrusts grew more and more erratic as he felt your hot little mouth envelop his dick just so perfectly. The sound of your fingers playing with your pussy as he face-fucked you however, drew him back to attention again.

“Hey,” he slapped your cheek lightly, getting your attention as you looked up at him with wide eyes, having been caught. “You’re not allowed to touch that pussy as I face fuck you.” Your expression of dismay almost made him feel bad.

Almost.

“No touching yourself, sweetheart. Or else I won’t let you cum later, you understand?” Your eyes teared up a little, and Jace watched you with a smirk as your expression grew desperate, but you could simply nod obediently, knowing that Jace would make good on that promise.

“Good girl,” he soothed you, before thrusting into your mouth even harder, faster.

Your moans were muffled by his cock, but Jace let his unfiltered noises echo throughout the room, his curses and groans and praises only making you wetter. “Yeah, that’s it, baby…taking this dick like a pro, huh? What a dirty little slut you are.”

You could barely speak with his dick in your mouth, and Jace could feel himself getting closer as he watched your tits bounce in that skimpy top you had on. He couldn’t wait to have his hands and mouth all over them, kissing and biting and sucking on your hardened buds. The thought alone was enough to send him over the edge, and when you began playing with his balls, he completely lost it.

Letting out a rough moan, he spilled himself in you, his hot load shooting down your throat. The vibrations of your muffled moans around his cock made it feel even better.

He pulled out, watching your dazed, blissed out face. Gently tilting your chin up to face him, he ordered you, “Swallow all that for me, sweetheart.”

Obligingly, you did so, and Jace let out a sigh of pleasure. “Good girl. Come here.” He helped you up from your knees, gently hoisting you up onto the desk again while rubbing your red knees with his thumbs like a perfect gentleman. Then, his hands found his way to your cheek again, and his lips to yours. He could taste himself on your tongue, and he groaned into your mouth, hand going to palm at your tits through the fabric of your top.

“Best Christmas present I could ask for,” he murmured, sweetly pecking you on the lips. “Which reminds me,” you brought up, voice a bit hoarse after that intense face-fucking. “How’d you get here?”

“I flew out, duh.” You smacked Jace’s shoulder at that non-serious response. “Ow. I flew out all the way for you, and you abuse me like this?” Jace rubbed his hot shoulder, looking like a kicked puppy. “Hurts me right in my feelings, baby.”

“I’m serious,” you pressed, and Jace laughed, kissing your pouting lips. “I don’t know, you just looked so sad over the video call…I just had to come and see you.”

“And your family was cool with it?” Jace laughed again, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly. “Mom’s always chill about it, don’t worry. And you know my little brothers; they always act like they’re happy to be rid of me.”

“But for now,” Jace’s lips met yours again, searing, wanting. “Can we stop talking about how I got here and focus on worshipping you instead?” You giggled, tightening your arms around his neck. “Well, in that case-“

A clatter outside your door made you and Jace freeze in your tracks, wide eyes going to the door. “What was that-“

“My suitcase!” Jace exclaimed, a panicked look on his face as someone outside bellowed. “Who left their fucking suitcase in the middle of the hall?”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter at the sight of abject horror on Jace’s face as he rushed to the door to apologise to whatever poor soul had tripped over his suitcase.

Best Christmas you could ever ask for.

let me know if you wish to be added to a general taglist for jace related works, or just my works in general in the comments or through this form! :)

thank you for reading! if you liked it, likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! merry late xmas guys 😘🎄

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jensensitive · 7 months ago

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I am obsessed with the way in which you draw Dean. You have his features nailed to perfection - somehow your Dean looks even more Dean than Dean in the show, because you exaggerate everything that makes him HIM. It's truly breathtaking <3 Any advice on how to get those features so flawless?

This is so so nice, thank you so much 😭💕💕💕

Honestly Dean is like my go-to thing to draw basically, and has been for many years, like I have to try to refrain myself from just drawing Dean again sometimes. He's like probably half of how I've learned to draw at all. So there's definitely practice there.

That said, I did not immediately have much of answer to this. It's like, his face is just his perfect, beautiful face, and then I try to draw that. 😅

So I drew some Dean to figure out what it is I do, so thanks for the excuse to draw more Dean lol

Extensive answer under the cut

If you're drawing something realistic from reference, for Dean you kind of have two options, you can either get a screencap that's closer up so you can see details better, but the top of his head is cut off, or you can get one where you can see less details but his whole torso is in frame. It can be weirdly difficult to guess at where the top of his head is sometimes, and you don't need details to capture a likeness, I think it was Sargent that said that the shape of the head is actually the most important aspect in capturing a likeness, so it's something to keep in mind. On the other hand, if you want to look at his pretty eyelashes while you draw him, you might want something closer up. (An understandable impulse).

Another thing is just to look for a reference that you really like, contrasty light and shadow are also great to look for. It's difficult to create a great drawing without them, but also it will illustrate the structure of his head best too. Look for shadow shapes you want to draw. If a reference is too dark (as it often is, because it's supernatural), edit it so you can actually see what you're drawing lmao.

I took a bunch of random screencaps of 11x02-- as random as I could, normally I'd just take screencaps of what I already kind of like, but I tried to just get all of it so you can see what I'm not choosing. (also couldn't help taking some cas ones when the lighting was going really hard)

I love a profile, I love a 3/4 view, I love when his eyes are like half open. His face was kinda giving towards the end of this episode.

Hopefully you can see them well enough. The mass ideas are more important for picking at impactful reference, but ofc I'm also trying to avoid any where he's making a dumb face or it's blurry. Sometimes that's only evident when I open it bigger, but that's okay, we have a bunch to pick from.

a. This one is one I picked out because it's an interesting angle, and I'd definitely do a little study of it, but because the lighting is so soft, it probably wouldn't be super interesting.

b. I like this one, the face he's making is hilarious, and I like the rhythm of his hand, but if I were to draw it, I might draw a fourth finger, otherwise it might look strange. So keep that in mind too, if it looks odd in the reference, it will look odd in the drawing, so unless you're confident that you can effectively change it, pick a different reference or find a second reference to help you change it.

c. This lighting's more dynamic, and I like his expression.

d. Would be hard to pick between these. This one's 3/4 and has a nice eyelash shadow, and I love the shape of his eye when it's downturned.

e. Shoutout to the shape of Jensen's brow when he looks down gotta be one of my favorite genders. + subtle Rembrandt lighting. Lovely.

f. This one is so good. Overhead lighting getting a shadow from his ear in a sideview, defining the jaw in an interesting way. Great expression. It's a bit strange, the way he's looking to the side, so it might be hard to draw convincingly, but would be worth it if I could do it. The shadow from the hair defining the shape of the brow. The light on the cheek defining the slight eyebag. The reflected light under the eye, the light landing on the nose. Would probably change the hair a bit because it looks a bit odd at this angle in this lighting, and if drawn like this it would probably look at bit block-like.

g. More rembrandt lighting. Shoutout to the shadow that this upper lip casts on his lower lip. Shoutout to the shadow his lower lip casts on his chin. Shoutout to the line of light defining his neck. Shoutout to the shape of his brow and forehead.

h. The rhythms here are chefs kiss-- the shadow line diagonal from the corner of his hairline to the corner of his brow echoed by the shadow line diagonal of his cheekbone, then that second line following through to the line of light on his neck that curves the other way.

i. This one's kinda boring wrt lighting, but it's an interesting enough angle to do a study of.

I'm going with screencap c because it's gonna work well to effectively illustrate the basic structure of how I construct his features. It's not directly straight-on, so the form isn't lost, but it's straight enough on to properly show our proportions.

For supplies here, I'm just using a soft charcoal pencil, I just use the kinda cheap ones (currently Markart) cause I actually like them better than General's. And it's on smooth newsprint. I just get it in a big thing of 500 sheets. Not archival but it's a cheap thing that's incredibly enjoyable to draw on. Pink Papermate eraser and a kneaded eraser. The pen I use at one point for some reason is a red Pentel RSVP ballpoint I think, although I actually prefer a Bic.

1. So first thing I block in that main shape, in this case, his head and shoulders. I also have to draw in the hairline at the same time, cause I can't figure it out otherwise. He's got kind of pointy ears. The collar of his jacket often comes up pretty high on the back of his neck. He's got a distinctive hairline that I think can go a long way to showing it's Dean, it's worth taking note of. It swoops to our left, and then the corner (I guess?) of his hairline will line up with the corner/arch of his brow. And don't draw the hairline as an unbroken line, but several lines with some room to breathe. His shoulders are pretty straight and broad, but about three heads across which is pretty normal.

2. Next what I think about is the shape of the eyesockets and the line of the brow. This bit will go a ways for conveying Dean's expression, because he has a wide range from light and happy to horribly scowly that's in the brows. You don't have to define the exact line of the brow at this moment, blocking in the general line is fine just to have an idea of where it lands. You can go back later and refine it. I also find where the bottom lid lands. In my brain it makes a shape like what I've drawn. I might not draw it just like this, but even if I don't, this is the shape I'm thinking about. The line from the end of his eyebrow to his bottom lid is a fave, sometimes you can see it on him, especially at an angle, and it's real pretty.

3. Next I find where the bottom of his nose lands, it's about double the length of the eyesocket. And the line under his bottom lip, about halfway between his nose and the bottom of his chin. These measurements are pretty average measurements for a face. I didn't give myself enough room for his chin initially, so I moved it down to fix it. Also adjusted his face very slightly wider on the right side, cause it's looking a bit narrow.

4. I added some of our shadow shapes. This is where finding a reference with well-defined shadows will be very helpful. And I sketched in the clothes cause why not. The clothes don't have to be perfect, who cares, Dean's collar is not our point of interest lol. The shadow on the neck will probably be slightly curved because of the roundness of the neck. If it's not, you might want to make it curve slightly anyway just to help define the form. I blocked in where the eyes are.

eyes: For Jensen's lovely eyes, they have a specific shape that is so nice to draw, especially at certain and angles and with certain expressions. But basically the top lid is more angular and can be almost boxed off at the end, and the line from the corner of the eye to the lashes is an s-curve that's higher in the middle. Again, not unusual features in drawing a face, but such pretty examples. The shadow that his lower lid casts (or his makeup idk?) is often dark enough to look vaguely like eyeliner. Jensen's lower eyelids, an underrated part of Jensen. His eyebrows are thicker in the middle and sparser on the ends.

5. Next I found the corners of the lips. This is an important aspect in the way I draw mouths. Sometimes I just draw them with dots where the corners of the lips are, a curve where the lips part in the middle, a shadow under the bottom lip, and the curve of the cupid's bow. (This is seen below in 6) I think I also adjusted the bottom lip shadow here. Straight-on, the middle of his lips is slightly higher than the corners, but of course, this will change when not straight-on, depending on if we're looking up or down at his mouth. I also sketched in the nose shape. The ridge of his nose has a nice subtle bump, and then the ball of his nose is very slightly squared off I think, from a front-facing perspective, I feel like. And I drew in his slightly drawn brows. Just pay attention to the angles in your reference, because the expression, the perspective and the angle of the head can impact it. But of course generally, drawn down in the middle, furrowed = scowly; drawn up, unfurrowed = happy.

nose: I prefer drawing his nose in profile. And who wouldn't, look at it! The slight curve of the bridge and then the ball of the nose. I will exaggerate this a little sometimes, just because it's fun and I like it. I couldn't find a reference, but from below, you can see the shape of the bottom of his nose, it dips in the middle a bit more than average. Drawing the bottom of the nose is often a delicate balance between shadow and reflected light. I love keeping it light, save for the nostrils, but then the shadow under the nose can be important too. Sometimes it's just a stylistic choice. Note that there's a plane change between the side of the nose and the cheek. (I think I drew his nose too upturned here, but the general idea is still there)

6/mouth: In drawing the mouth, the top line of the upper lip looks more rectangular at the ends, increasingly so as it turns away from us, and much less so as it turns towards us. Of course, he has a full upper lip that you can shade as you like. I try to keep it distinct from the shadow of the line of the mouth, and a reflected light on the top lip can be good here too. For the bottom lip, it's always nice to give is some shine with a hard-edge highlight. For the cupid's bow, I try to leave a light between the upper lip and the shadow in the cupid's bow. For some reason I drew the shadow backwards here, but I think it looks fine.

7/ears: I started to shade it, and then I remembered that he has ears. There's a simplified way I draw ears that I like. It's not entirely accurate, because the two shadows at the top are actually usually connected, but I find it a bit distracting that way sometimes, so this is more subtle I guess. In profile, I don't really have a method of drawing it, I just draw whatever the reference gives me or bs it with a similar version of this, depending.

8/hair: My method for drawing his hair is 1) suffer 2) hope and pray. I like to leave a rim light-type deal between the contour/outliine of the hair and the rest of the hair, I feel like it helps define it a bit more. The direction of his hair, and thus the direction of my lines is something like this.

9. And then I more or less just shaded. When shading, it's always good to follow the direction of the plane, and I also alternatively like to shade in the direction that the light is falling to reinforce that gesture, but when I shade a face, I try to shade in the opposite direction of where wrinkles would go, if that makes sense, mostly up and down I guess. This is of course on a case by case basis, like a lot of times, I'll do the forehead horizontally anyway, but it's especially touchy around where the laugh lines of the mouth would be and the neck. And on soft plane changes (and softish hard plane changes), I often shade at a different angle to the main shadow. Shading direction can also delineate different areas of similar tones, like I did with the jacket and the side of the nose. I like to give Dean his eyelash shadow, because he deserves it. I also drew in the eyes, of course. I think I actually tend to shade them backwards, and the light would fall in the opposite direction, so when lit from the right, the right side would be darker, but I just don't draw it that way idk maybe I should.

And there he is, that's our guy!

Normally when I'm drawing, I'm definitely a bit more all over the place, and don't necessarily do things in perfect order. And it's good to move around. I'm probably not going to be shading things before noting where all the features are going to land, but I often am shading something before I've drawn everything. Or end up drawing one eye and then maybe do part of the other and then move to do part of the nose and then sketch in an ear and then maybe notice something's off somewhere and adjust that, etc. Just go with it, have fun, he's got a fun face to draw! 💗

#ask #art tutorial #if there's one thing I can talk about forever!!#dean winchester #my art #portrait drawing

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milkytheholy1 · 20 days ago

Text

Shadow Generations: Part 2

Part 1. Sonic Masterlist.

Awaking in a blank world, Shadow fluttered his eyes open, taking in the vast nothingness. Rubbing his head, he stood on shaky legs, "What happened? Where am I?"

As though everything was happening all at once, the expansive emptiness Shadow resided in burst to life, well, somewhat. Large, white structures burst through the ground, erupting rocks and dirt into the air. Everything seemed to carry a sense of familiarity about it, something that Shadow couldn't quite put into words.

Looking over to the closet monument, the ebony hedgehog decided that was the best place to look for answers. Once he was close enough, Shadow could vaguely make out the rough edges and twisted metal pieces of the ARK. But it somehow felt empty, like there was no life to it, even if it was just a hunk of floating metal.

I was just on the ARK, how can it appear like this? As a matter of fact, this whole world is one big mystery. Am I the only one here? If so, how do I get out? Perhaps this is the anomaly G.U.N was looking for, I have to find a way back out. No matter what.

As Shadow rushed through each level, he soon realised what this world was: his memories.

The Space Colony: ARK, Speed Highway, his fight with Metal Sonic. Everything that was happening was something from his past. But who could have done all this? That was his only lingering question. Shadow remembered the radio that he had on him, perhaps the signal was still connected to Rouge.

'Hello, Rouge, incoming, Rouge can you hear me?" it was only static coming through, but he persisted, "Hello, Rouge do you hear-"

"AHHHH, HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP ME! PLEASE!" cried out a voice from the distance. Shadow stared at the direction from which it came, huffing, he put away his radio and dashed towards the commotion. There was no point in continuing to contact Rouge, it clearly wasn't working.

As the screaming got louder and louder Shadow picked up his pace, eventually spotting some creatures he recognised chasing someone. He quickly lept into action, kicking Doom's henchmen down within seconds.

Of course, Black Doom is behind this, I should have known. But I could have sworn I had defeated him, so how did he come back?

"Thank you for saving me-" The voice said, it was sweet and delicate, "-Shadow."

The brooding hedgehog looked up, his mind going blank and his mouth wide open. He couldn't believe this, he didn't believe this. It had to be another trick by Doom, she was gone, he saw it happen, there was no way she could be standing here in front of him right now.

"M-Maria?" he nearly whispered out, he was in complete disbelief. Maria's smile widened, she went to approach him until a hand grasped her shoulder, "Be careful, Maria, we don't know if this is truly him or another one of Doom's illusions."

"Professor?" Shadow was truly at a loss for words, if this wasn't real it would be a really sick joke to play on the poor hedgehog. All he ever dreamt of, ever thought about, was seeing them again; his family.

And now here they were in arms reach, yet he couldn't do it, he couldn't push himself to take those extra steps to be beside them again. Knowing they were just here now hurt him tremendously, but perhaps...

"Professor, do you have any theories on how we ended up in this world?" he soon pressed, he tried to appear calm for Maria's sake. Gerald rubbed his chin, deep in thought, his eyes scanned around the void, "I'd say it's a temporal anomaly. Someone or something has trapped us out of time, but that is just my working theory, of course."

Shadow thought about that for a moment, if Black Doom was behind this then maybe that could explain how he came back. Shadow took a glance at Maria and Gerald, "They must be from before the accident on the ARK," he said lowly to himself, "Perhaps I can change their fate if I defeat Black Doom. I will make him pay dearly for everything that I-"

A light presence graced Shadow's shoulder, a pasty white hand gently held him, but the warmth that radiated from it could rival the sun, "Shadow, you've become awfully angry since I last saw you; it's not like you."

"I promise you, Maria, I'm fine. I'll protect you both from what's to come, but you need to trust me."

"Of course, I trust you, Shadow." Maria offered him an ear-to-ear grin, and Gerlald only hummed in agreement, "It begs to assume that if we are here, perhaps other could be around too?"

Maria seemed excited by the idea, "Oh yes, I would love to meet new people, do you think there are more humans like us?"

Shadow could only laugh at that, prompting Maria to look confused, "The only other person I can think of being here is an annoying blue faker." he mumbled, Maria couldn't hear him that well. With a small sigh, Shadow had to drag himself away from the only people he could call family, "Stay safe and stay hidden, I will return to you when I can."

"Shadow, wait!" Maria cried out, he turned to her with wide eyes, "Be careful, please?" Shadow smirked and simply nodded his head, skating off into the distance to find and eliminate Doom.

#shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #fan #fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #reader #shadow #sonic x shadow generations #shadow and maria

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aemmawrites · 1 year ago

Text

I hate that I Love you

wc. 945 tw. toxic amber, cussing pairing- Amber freeman x reader

Ever since you were younger you had a certain way you liked to do things.

You liked to have everything organized and structured. But as you learned life always comes with obstacles. Obstacles, you’ve learned, are inevitable.

Just like the obstacle laying beside you.

Amber freeman.

To say you were a perfectionist was an understatement, you had the same routine you stuck to every morning. Wake up, get ready for school, cheerleading practice, homework, get ready for bed, sleep.

Repeat.

Everything was perfect, and then a disruption in your routine happened. Wakeup, get ready for school, bump into Amber Freeman on the way to cheer practice, regret your life choices, homework, get ready for bed, sleep.

Amber was a character for sure, she was bad for you, and you knew that, even now as you sat in her bed, relaxed with your head in her lap while she watched the stab movies for the third time this week.

One year.

You guys have been together for one whole year. And you’ve never felt worse. Crying yourself to sleep at night when she accused you of cheating, arguing over stupid things such as your skirt being a little too short, silent treatment for weeks until you admitted you were wrong even when you weren’t, somehow making you feel like without her you could do nothing, you would be nothing.

You suppose it was your fault as amber would say, “you knew how I was when you first agreed to date me, so what's the problem now”

flashback

You were late.

Of course, as you realized you were going to have extra laps at practice for being late, you started to speed walk down the hallways, not paying attention, you bumped into one accidentally tripping and bringing them down with you. Frantically you looked up to see who you rushed in to and immediately apologized. “I'm so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention and I-”

“Shut up” was all she said, glaring at you making you look down in embarrassment.

“I don't need an apology, I need you to watch where you're going”, she looked up and paused, analyzing the girl in front of her. You both looked at each other as if waiting for eachothers next move. You made a move to leave and get out of the awkward situation before she stepped in front of you and said “wait.”

And then it all went downhill from their

now

“Are you even paying attention?” Amber whispered as if not to scare you. You looked up at her before responding, “yeah im just tired, also we’ve seen this movie 10 times already, this month,” Amber rolled her eyes, getting ready to rant about how the stab franchise is worth rewatching, you sighed.

You moved your head off her lap and onto the pillow next to her. “I'm going to sleep” is all you could say before Amber started a new argument with you.

Again.

Amber looked over at you with a frown, “so your tired now, but not when that Olivia girl was talking to you, you seem so energized, but now your tired.”

One moment of peace was all you wanted, you turned to face amber before saying. “Amber, me and Olivia are on the cheer team together, where friends, and friends talk. Also it’s 3am and we have been watching movies for the past 6 hours, I'm tired.” You tried to reason.

Amber quickly responded with “you can either stay up with me and watch movies, or spend the night with Olivia since you seem to like her so much.”

You snapped, this wasn’t that big of a deal based on things Amber has done to you in the past, but it was like everything that had ever made you mad, upset, and sad came to the top. “Amber, my life doesn’t revolve around you and you honestly need to get over yourself!”

Silence.

Amber's eyes widened as if it was crazy that you would talk back to her, so she did what she did best, hurt you. “How can you say that, after all I have done for you, when we first met you were just some weird loner with no friends, I made you who you are, your nothing without me”

“Fuck you Amber, i'm leaving” here you were trying your best and it was never enough for her, you started to get dress as you felt hands wrap around your waist. And just like that happy Amber was back.

Amber smiled at you as if to make the situation better. “I'm sorry, you know how I get, you know I didn’t mean it, please stay,” as much as you wanted to relax into her touch you knew better, so you ignored her and put your shoes on.

“Are you really going to walk home at three in the morning, that's not safe” Amber smiled as she nodded her head to the window, and just now you noticed how dark it was. Weighing your options, you sighed and went to make a move to go outside. She quickly grabbed your wrist before saying “don’t be stupid it’s not safe, stay here, where I can protect you, where I can hold you, you just said you were tired, let's go to sleep.”

Before you could say anything she started pushing you back towards her bed, using her strength to keep you from trying to leave. You tried to leave, you really did but you were tired, it was scary outside, and the way Amber was looking at you right now made your heart melt. So you sighed as she tried to coax you to come back to her bed, you relented, you gave up, and just like that you were back in her arms, back in her bed.

Again.

This was the part in your routine where you regret your life choices.

#scream #scream 6 #scream 5 #tara carpenter #sam carpenter #amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x y/n #amber freeman x you #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin #scream x reader #scream x you #scream x yn

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llamagoddessofficial · 2 years ago

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biggest of brain energy re warm bread and beloved skeletons - so.... might i offer you .................. patisserie/baker au??

the boys are all rival(ish) bakers/pastry chefs on the same cute little side block of a quaint walkable downtown.

Sans has that extremely detailed, finicky pastry work down pat, on top of all the strange new versions that keep, somehow, making filo dough more difficult and yet structurally impressive. he's tried all those cool gastro-chef techniques, but just loves & excels at the fancy little pastries. absolutely the type to just close the shop when he's sold out of whatever he felt interested in making a lot of that day. surprisingly good-yet-bad social media presence. makes the jokiest videos and jankiest signs advertising when he's got a new batch of Something Tasty out, but the most beautiful shots of his pastries.

Red is one of those not-so-surprisingly charming excon-type (maybe never actually in prison, but y'know) bakers that looks intimidating but makes the best goddamn homey baked goods you ever had. pies, breads, big soft filled rolls, anything that feels ghibli as hell, frankly. has a not-so-secret love of making those really decorative lattice-style pie crusts; can absolutely make art you wouldn't want to eat if not for how damned good you know the pie is. always the most slammed during autumn, has spirited """debates""" with Sans (who is directly across the cobbled street) whenever they get deliveries at the same time, often about incredibly inane but opinionated baking nuances. accidentally best friends with all the local widows and grandmas. frequently propositioned by all genders.

Skull is a bit of the odd man out - he used to work at a little old cakeshop on the corner, but Something Happened one day and that corner store has frustratingly been turned into Insert Encroaching Soulless Chain Here. he now works at the back of the little pizzeria, making the best goddamn pizza dough anyone's ever had. seeing him flip and spin those pizzas is art in and of itself. rumor still had it that there was someone on staff at that cakeshop that could make the most dazzling wedding cakes you ever did see, but they also made the flavors involved so harmonious you could cry....

....... MC is a new arrival, perhaps opening up her own little shop - a little cafe maybe, specializing in warm drinks and a simple menu of baked goods like croissants and scones and cookies, some finger foods, and most importantly Cozy Vibes.

maybe she puts out an ad for a proper baker to help her out while she makes the teas and coffees and runs the front....

... and maybe some shenanigans ensue ✧∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

genius. absolutely genius. allow me to lose my fucking mind

Mc opens up her delightful little cafe. It's small, obviously, since she's technically the only employee- though she's great at coffee she struggles to make anything more complex than a cookie for cafe food. Her croissants melt and flatten, her pies collapse, her attempts at macarons just spread out into a sheet. So! She puts out an ad!

Sans: Ironically, his habit of only making what he's interested in and randomly closing shop without warning has made his desserts even more sought after. The incredible intricate and unique nature of his treats give them an element of scarcity, and people will come from all over to get to his next batch early. The sign out the front says 'open 10am to 5pm monday to wednesday. open some thursdays, depends how i feel. closed the second friday in the month, unless we were open thursday before. open saturday. closed sunday'.

He was a bit suspicious of her cafe, he'll admit it. He's suspicious of anything new on the street. Various chain brands have been infiltrating the previously majority monster-run area, and he hates the way his favourite place is slowly being subsumed by shitty corporate machine-made food. But it only took one visit (purely out of curiosity) for him to get love at first sight.

Since his store has such a reputation, he can afford to flunk whenever he likes to go sit in with her and chat for hours; he's a welcome presence. After noticing her difficulty with baking he starts giving her tips but quickly graduates to giving her some of his stock, instantly boosting her popularity. She thinks he's giving her leftover stock he doesn't need- she has no idea he's making stuff specifically for her.

Red: Red and Pap do have a tendency to treat their business like it's a mafia. The way they call it the 'family business' often makes people think it's a front for organised crime. And it was, once- the two of them only opened the store to cover up what was happening behind the scenes. But then they enjoyed running a bakery so much that they dropped the crime. He doesn't like the way Sans has turned baking into something snooty and highbrow; Red thinks food should be delicious and comforting, not a one-bite commodity people pay out of the nose for.

Red becomes a cafe regular, he goes during breaks and straight after work. He spends most of his time standing up at the counter flirting relentlessly, but he's so on the dot that she usually has his order ready for him. He offers to teach her to make a good pie- "payment? what're you talkin' about, doll? seein' yer pretty face is payment enough fer me." There would definitely be some scenes of him teaching her to bake... standing behind her with his hands over hers, showing her the technique to fold dough, though neither of them are really concentrating because he's grinning like an idiot and she can only feel how hot her face is.

(He'd probably ruin it with a 'wish you'd pound my dough like that'. A swift smack, and the magic of the moment is over)

Skull: He's the one that responds to her ad.

Though he didn't mind his job, per say, he misses being able to make his own stuff. Pizza tossing can only do so much to fill the baking-shaped hole in his heart. He wanted to apply anyway, it was just a stroke of luck that the cafe owner turned out to be the love of his life. Though he's a bit spooky and looks at her like he can't see anything else, she's quick to accept him, telling him he can make whatever he wants- and that's when he works his magic. All the stunning cakes lining the display case are his handiwork.

He's a man of few words, and he doesn't like being in public, so he's always in the back baking and cleaning. He wishes he had the confidence to talk to her more. She brings him coffee whenever she has time, as thanks for all his hard work... she leaves foam art, since it's one of the few things she can do. Though when she leaves a heart, the coffee usually ends up going cold. He tends to just stare at the heart until the foam is gone.

#llamagines #coffee shop au #fuck it we ballin #got us a coffee shop au

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