#i have the bones of it ready but i also have a couple requests on the go

[fushiguro-megloomy]

OMFG. I LOVE STRAWBERRY WINE SM…ONE OF THE BEST HISTORIES WITH VIKTOR >o< !

STOP THANK YOU <33333 I APPRECIATE IT SO MUCH!!!! ;-;

[slashersidewhore]

Slashers! First meeting their S/O

Slashers! x gn!reader

Includes Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair

Requested? Yes

Warnings: beefy murder boyfriends, fluffy shit, pre-relationship stuff, love at first sight, mentions of murder/gore/malicious intentions, violence

Michael Myers

It was Halloween night, dark eyes through holes in a white, cast of a mask staring through the second story window of an old, decrepit house

A young boy skipping by as in a blue, capped superhero, an older couple strolling on the opposite street, arm in arm minding their own in the breezy night

Eyes cast downward as the sharp ring of a doorbell shot through the old bones of the house, glint of a butchers knife tight in the grasp of the man know silently making his way through the upper hall

“Are we even supposed to be going in here?”

“Who cares, it’s tradition to check out the Myers mansion, relax”

“I don’t know, this feels wrong..”

Listening to what seemed to be two young adult, the shrill voice of one of them almost instantly striking the silent man with a headache

Michael watched from the shadows as the pair came into view, the louder of the two wearing her hair in tight pigtails, a cheerleader outfit splattered with what was obviously fake blood, a bad attempt at a murder victim

Ready to lumber from the darkness and strike down on the intruders, the man was struck to the spot he stood as you came into view, wearing another poorly, and clearly last minute, thrown on pirate costume

You were what he imagined when the perfect kill was dreamt, your face burned into his as your pictured screams of fear and pain died as did your fighting spirit, the knife once again tightened in his grip, knuckles turning a pale white, veins pulsing beneath taut skin

He wanted, no, needed to kill you

Even the thought alone send a bold chill of excitement through the otherwise lifeless body of his

“You know what would be so funny-“

The girl in pigtails spoke as she flipped around the corner, the voice shrinking in her throat quickly morphing in a scream of terror as she bumped into the large, awaiting body of the infamous Michael Myers

Although her scream was also short lived as a rough hand was immediately around her throat, lifting her from her feet and slamming her back into the adjacent wall breath knocked from her body at the impact

His other hand rose, moonlight catching the long, silver blade as it was plunged deep into her stomach, twisting, turning as her throat gave up on its scream, another shriek caused the killers head to twist like an owl

There you stood, frozen in place with hands partly covering your mouth, eyes wide, not shaking, not running, just watching as the man before you brutalized your friend

But as your eyes caught each others in the dimly lit hallway, Michaels grasp on the now corpse released, body hitting the floor with a dull thud he didnt bother to pull the knife from its placed nestled between dead flesh, not even glancing down at it

Your hands slowly fell from your face, still not shaking, but clearly stressed with sweat as you wiped your hands on the fabric covering your thighs

“I’m, sorry for breaking in”

Your voice was soft, careful but not disingenuous, Michael didn’t know how to react, unable to look away or even move

His head tilted to the left, mask bunching at the bottom, he turned on his heel and made his exit through the rickety wooden door leading to the backyard, leaving the body, knife, and you alone in the corridor

As his walk through the brisk night air flooded under the neck of his mask, the killer could feel his normally emotionless face scrunch with confusion

If hearing you scream in fear wasn’t what he thought he wanted from you, then what did he want from you?

He would have to investigate this sudden curiosity closely

Jason Voorhees

Jason was tirelessly indulging the day by sitting on the end of his cabins patio, watching the slow turn of various wild animals go by

There weren’t any campers to keep him busy, nor screams and boisterous laughter of teens trying to get their rocks off on the property, just the hum of June bugs and trees swaying beneath the gentle breeze of warm weather

That was until a shrill yelp drilled into Jason’s eardrums, bothered by the distraction from his day of calm, the man stood with shoulders squared, grabbing the awaiting machete perched against one of the patios wooden posts

Marching through the dense woods, his boots crushed leaves as he made he way to the noise from minutes earlier, hoping whoever it was was far gone

“Oh my god”

Of course they weren’t though, of course whoever this was decided to stupidly wander onto private property, clearly posted in writing on multiple trees and wire fences

Although Jason hesitated when he heard something he’d never had the pleasure of catching

“You poor thing, here I am breaking the law because of you”

Peeking from behind the thick trunk of a large oak, Jason was surprised to see a stranger kneeling in the dirt, fingers and palms cut up with minor wounds as they attempted to unwind a helpless rabbit that seemed to have gotten itself rolled in loose barbed wire

Not minding to worry about yourself, you winced as another barb caught your finger, slicing the thin flesh there as the rabbit was freed, trotting away without a care in the world

“Okay, now which way did I come in from?”

You wondered aloud, turning on your heel to go back the direction you think you came from, hoping in get back on the hiking trail you’d left behind

Jason merely watched with confusion, no malice or really any thought behind his eyes other than the urge to, protect you, from what he wasn’t sure

But he knew for certain, you weren’t someone he’d be able to forget

Thomas Hewitt

Let’s get one thing straight, Thomas doesn’t enjoy killing, him and his family was forced into it by Hoyt and his insatiable urge to feed and “care” for everyone

Most victims were easy to kill, treating him like a monster, screaming in his face curses and insults as they went out

Others he had a harder time with, the ones that just cry, plead with him for their life, promise they won’t tell the police if he lets them go

That being said, he’s never failed to kill, not once since he’s begun

That is until one summer day, when a knock at the door caught Luda Mae by surprise, wiping her wet hands on a dish towel and headed to the front door

Eyes narrowed, the older woman opened the door to reveal a young adult, you, standing there with a shy smile gracing your features, you held a pair of car keys in one hand, the other free to reach up and rub nervously at the back of your neck

“I’m sorry to bother you and, whoever else is home, but my car broke down a mile out, and I’m unable to reach anyone on my cell”

Luda Maes confusion turned to soft pity, a reserved grin taking over her lips as she moved to the left, a hand beckoning you in

“Well dear, there’s a phone in the kitchen, if you’d like I can call the towns auto shop while you wait in the living room”

Although still shaken from being practically dropped in the middle of nowhere Texas, you made your way graciously inside, thanking the woman with kind praise as you did so

Taking a seat on one of the two sofas available, your ankles crossed as you stared down at one of the keychains dangling from your car keys

You could hear the woman in the kitchen shuffling around, although you weren’t sure if you could hear anyone speaking to anyone on the phone

Curious, you slowly stood, palms sweaty as you now took a few steps from the living room, now able to hear Luda Mae speaking on the low to someone, then the sound of a corded phone clicking into its place on the wall

Heart slowing as you realized you were just being paranoid, you quickly turned on your heel to find your way back to the couch, although your trip was cut short by your feet crossing over one another, about to fall on your face when a two large hands steadied your shoulder

Gazing up, your breath caught in your throat at the absolute behemoth of a man now standing before you, a leather mask covering the bottom half of his face, thick brows furrowing as you simply continued to stare with wonder up at him

“Thank you”

Was all you could manage, voice catching as you realized your body was practically pressed up against his

“There you are dear, oh look I see you’ve met my youngest boy Tommy”

Luda Mae spoke as she entered the room, knowing look on her face as she coyly added fuel to the current fire

Pulling yourself up right and out of Thomas’ grasp, your hot face was focused on the older woman in hopes the man wouldn’t notice your sudden fluster

“Unfortunately our only truck is out with my other son, so I was thinking my boy here could be so kind as to walk you to the auto shop, you’ll be safe with him, promise”

You didn’t notice the way Thomas’ eyes followed you, too focused on thinking about being alone with a man as attractive as the one quietly standing beside you

“You’re not worried are you?”

Luda seemed to test you, but it went right over your head as you shook your head no

“He seems very reliable”

You smiled up at Thomas, unable to catch the skip in his chest as you did so

Luda Mae could only grin at the sight, ready to call up Hoyt and tell him to leave this stranger alone, as she could see a future blooming before her eyes

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent wasn’t one to leave his studio unless absolutely necessary, and even in those cases he didn’t, it wasn’t pleasant for the man

Until Bo brought home a guest, someone shaking and blindfolded as he manhandled the poor soul, although the stranger wasn’t screaming nor fighting, it was as if they’d completely given up, or knew it wouldn’t help

Vincent watched silently as his brother forced you to the ground, your knees surely hurting as they made contact with the hard, concrete floor

“Do you know what happens to people that wander where they don’t belong?”

Bo questioned menacingly, although he had a playful glint in his eye Vincent had never seen before

Silently creeping up behind his twin, the long haired man narrowed his eyes as he scanned what he could see in the dim, candle lit room of your face

The obvious old, dried tears that had found their way down your cheeks were still shining, creating lines over your soft skin

You looked to be carved of marble, painted with delicate strokes and framed with care, you were a work of art, and he hadn’t even seen your eyes yet

Placing a deft hand on Bo’s shoulder, the two exchanged looks, the shorter haired twin groaning in annoyance, although that look from before was still in his eye

Right as he was turning to take his leave, he leaned closer to Vincent, whispering to him as he passed

“I took one glance and knew you’d like them, guess I was right”

Then he was gone, foot steps disappearing as he left up the basement stairway

Vincent cautiously walked closer to you, noticing how you flinched back a bit when he made a move to pull your blindfold up, doing it slowly as to not startle you

Your watery eyes fell on his masked face, brows furrowing slightly as you glanced around the room

Vincent’s mouth soured at the idea that you were looking for Bo, of course you would be, what new comer in town wasn’t, until

“Is that man from before gone?”

You’d whispered, and if your sweet voice didn’t send Vincent into a flutter of strange emotions, your next words at the nod of, “yes”, Vincent gave you did

“Good, he scares me”

He merely nodded, unsure of how to act

“Is he going to come back?”

Vincent shrugged

Your shifted so you were sitting, wincing at the ache in your legs, eyes nervous but no longer afraid, you looked to the silent man before you

“Will you, stay here if he comes back?”

Vincent had never been so quick to nod a, “yes”

Sorry I’ve been gone for so long, but I’m back now! I’m working on what is currently in my requests but feel free to send in more!

^ me returning after being inactive for 6 months

[mrs-weasley-reid]

SHAKESPEAREAN ROSE

Spencer Reid x psychiatrist!reader

Synopsis: Spencer Reid silently admires the new psychiatrist on the floor. Word Count: 1600+ WARNING: nothing, just fluff! A/N: Remember when I said I wrote more than what I posted for Doctors Across The Hall? This is it🤭 (I forgot to post it on aug 1, oops) I've decided to make Spencer Reid x psychiatrist!reader a series! It'll just be a bunch of fluff/angst/rare spicy stuff with psychiatrist!reader that happens in the same timeline but it's not in order. So, not exactly a story just tangents ??? Also I'm open to requests/prompts to keep this going hehe <3 Tell me what you think!

  “Guys, you’re so sweet! This is adorable!”

  Spencer’s ears perk up at the commotion. Curiosity thrums in his veins as he watches Derek hand you a rose. A small stuffed toy is clutched in your other hand. A wide smile adorns your face. A gorgeous sight on a late Wednesday morning. 

  Derek laughs, “Can’t take the credit.” He takes Penelope into his right arm. “Baby girl, right here strongly encouraged me.”

  Penelope gives you a bone-crushing hug, “Happy National Girlfriends Day, my favorite psychiatrist! Get ready for our sleepover! I have so many plans!” She squeals in excitement, inviting JJ in, who’d just discovered the similar objects on her desk.

  Your heart swells. Only two months into the bureau, and you’ve already found yourself a great group of friends. As the newly mandated psychiatrist in the building, it was nerve-wracking to enter the floor that seemed to reak of evil and know-it-alls. And although the BAU team is filled with know-it-alls, despite their constant denial, you managed to squeeze into their group as easily as befriending Penelope Garcia. Considering your office happens to be next to her lair.

  “Isn’t that day for couples only? For a girlfriend? Not a girl that's a friend?” You chuckle, taking in the aroma from the single rose.

  “Nah-uh,” Penelope wiggles her index finger. “All those boys are just piggybacking on girl power—” She turns to Derek, who’s about to object, “—You’re not included. You have been graciously influenced by moi. I’m just saying that I have my girlfriends, so I will celebrate the day the way I see fit, and that is with my gorgeous, gorgeous babes!” 

  As JJ begins to add her piece to the excitement parade, Spencer turns to Emily, who comes back from the kitchen, her stuffed toy in hand.

  “National Girlfriends Day?” He asks lowly.

  “What?” Emily furrows her brows for a moment before it flattens on her forehead. “Oh, that. Just a day some people celebrate to appreciate their girlfriends. Garcia’s excited about it—”

  Her voice quiets into the background in an instant. Spencer sits in his mind as he processes the information. National Girlfriends Day. The words echo in his head. A day to appreciate girlfriends…

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

  Lunch is usually your highlight of the day. Not because of the time you eat but because of the time you spend listening to all the sizzling drama Penelope has to offer. It’s an interesting experience to have when you’re also the same person who listens to her cries every time the BAU team flies to yet another case in a different state.

  Today, though. It’s quite different.

  As soon as you enter the bullpen to check in with another agent’s inquiry regarding your services on the floor, a delivery man approaches you and hands you a huge bouquet of roses. Your newly found friends immediately hover around like shameless busybodies. Though, you never mind at all.

  “Oooh, yet another gift from your secret lover…” Emily teases, perching on Derek’s desk as she sips coffee.

  Derek joins in, eyebrows raised. “What is that—” He picks up a small note from one of the roses, rolling it open, “—Love looks not with eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind…” He waves the note with a mischievous grin. “We don’t know this guy, but he sure is cheesy.”

  Emily flashes a sheepish smile, “There’s one on each rose! How many roses are there?” She starts counting by eye.

  “It’s like Shakespearean roses.” Penelope quips after reading another note from a different rose, passing you the small poem that immediately makes your lips curl.

  “Shakespearean roses..? That's a thing?” You curiously inquire, looking over the vast red petals close to your chest. 

Penelope shrugs, “Not really, but it could be!” She beams at you.

  JJ smiles, joining in after a small detour to her office. “Oh, wow!” Her eyes widen, and her brows lift. “Another one of the noble Sir Rumple?” She coaxes.

  “Who is this Sir Rumple, anyway? I’m very curious.” Emily snorts, wiggling her brows at you. She doesn’t push past your clear boundaries but never fails to strike all her attempts to get a name out of you. She’s a profiler, after all.

  “Most importantly, when is she going to introduce us to her secret lover?” Derek teases, nudging you playfully.

  Just as you look up, Spencer Reid stands behind everyone, clutching the strap of his bag like usual. 

  His hair is short and untamed. Big hazel brown eyes spark under the fluorescent light. A thin, shy smile. And a familiar red cardigan. 

  You reckon it was the priciest clothing you’ve ever bought as a small thank you present. But Spencer doesn’t need to know, really.

  Time moves slowly at the brewing desire to have Spencer close. His shy smile and adorable averting eyes bring you the thought of domesticity. You imagine him coming home just like that. Messy hair. Giddy, tight-lipped smile. Exhausted features and yet the most handsome man in your books. A spatula in your hand, music in the kitchen, and the hem of his collared shirt swaying over your thighs. It's poetically a dream. Something you wish to have, to do for as long as you're breathing.

  “Maybe next time?” You say with blushing cheeks. The utter embarrassment of talking about a secret lover in front of your crush had your mind blown into overdrive.

  The group exchanges looks. But they don’t push further, indulging in the rare moment of your silent, sunny smile and hoping that you’re happy with whoever's been showering you with affection.

  “Okay, maybe not fully Shakespearean roses,” Penelope interjects, reading a corny joke that had the entire group cringe and you laughing.

  The joy in your laughter is like Clair de Lune playing through sunset. Spencer imagines warm tea in his hand, a book on his lap, and your little giggles across as you flip a page of yet another cheesy romance novel. Sunlight along your most beautiful features, which he insists is all of you. The cozy oversized shirt he owns covers the softness of your skin. A simple thought and yet has his heart racing in sheer bliss.

  Spencer smiles into his action report. “Shakespearean roses…” He whispers in a chuckle, shaking his head at the idea.

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

  The day comes to a close with excitement and heartwarming joy. 

  “See you later at 9! Don't be late.” Penelope waves at you as the doors slide closed.

  You chuckle at her antics but quickly find yourself in a small predicament, struggling to carry all the tokens of love you’d received from everyone.

  “Here, let me help.” 

  Your eyes meet his. And you think you're having a heart attack. But you make sure to smile kindly with a not-so-eager nod.

  “Thanks, Reid.”

  He flashes his signature smile, taking the tall bouquet from your hands. 

  You fight yourself from biting the lower of your lips at the sight of his hand clutching the stem without difficulty. So, you breathe gently and indulge in his warmth next to you.

  “Looks like you had a nice day,” Spencer starts tentatively, swaying on the balls of his feet as he hoists your favorite thing of the day.

  You turn to him with a hum and a gentle bounce of your shoulders. “I did. I feel loved.” You confess.

  Spencer hides his blushing ears. Is it so wrong to wish you always smiled at him like that? Does a lifetime sound too much to ask? 

  “That's great,” He nods casually, letting the other patrons jump in and out of the lift.

  The doors open on the last floor. Both of you walk side by side as you trickle out of the lift into the parking lot. It's not a rule. But somehow, you and he always parked in the lowest lot despite the vast parking spaces above.

  He continues the conversation on smaller tangents that make you giggle. How did your sessions today go? How was the new lunch place you went to? 

  And you throw back the same curiosity with an enthusiasm he admires. Did you finish all your reports? Did you enjoy your lunch stroll? 

  Spencer hands you the bouquet back as soon as you settle your things in the passenger seat of your car. “See you tomorrow?”

  You beam at him, and his eyes soften, “See you tomorrow, Sir Rumple.” You giggle, stealing a quick peck on his cheek.

  Before you can turn around, Spencer stills your hips and steals a similar kiss, albeit on the softness of your lips.

  The two of you giggle at the silence. Butterflies flutter with tickling speed in both of your stomachs. Maybe keeping your relationship private isn’t as bad as you’d imagine. 

  He opens the door for you and waits until you're comfortable in your seat. “I think I prefer Shakespearean Rose now.” You announce as he leans on your window.

  He playfully pouts, “But I love Sir Rumple better…” He twists his brows. The telltale sign of his gears turning. “Maybe I can be both?” He comprises.

  “You can be whatever pseudonym you want,” You smile at him. “You’re the only Spencer Reid I want.” 

  Spencer’s cheeks tint a shade of soft red. He leans and kisses your forehead.

  “Shakespearean Rose it is.”

reid masterlist | masterlist

[cyripticchronicler]

Hiii I have a request for Matt Murdock I was thinking him with an reader who’s job has gotten more stressful and it starts to get to them they get dizzy and lightheaded but brush it off until it happens around Matt and he can sense that it happened and he gets all protective and caring

Preferably fem reader but gn is also totally fine so everyone can enjoy it !

If this isn’t your cup of tea I totally get that !

In His Arms

Thank you for requesting, sweetie. I kind of went off track a little and I'm sorry :( (If you want me to rewrite it I happily will!) But either way, I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Overwhelmed by your growing workload and the pressure to prove yourself, you keep your struggles hidden—even from Matt. When the stress leads to a breakdown, he pulls you back, reminding you that love means sharing the load.

TW: Panic attack, mentions of anxiety, pet names (I can't help it), swearing

Masterlist

Stress was a familiar feeling to you. Its sharp claws seemed always to be gripping onto you tightly. You’ve learnt how to manage the lack of air in your lungs and the painful squeezing of your heart whenever you go through a rough patch. 

That’s why the feeling of anxiety creeping up your spine was carelessly ignored. You regret that you shrugged the feeling away, too focused on your work. It’s much easier to calm your bones' nervous trembles before it worsens. 

But now it’s too late. 

You’ve been so distracted by your work. Your colleague had just gone on maternity leave after giving birth to twins. You weren’t sure what would happen to her workload, but you certainly didn’t think it would all be passed down to you. 

Now all your brain can seem to focus on is the deadlines coming closer by the minute. They flash in your mind each time you consider taking a break. You never take a break - this is your one chance to prove to your boss that you’re ready to take on more responsibility. The rumours floating around the office of potential promotions, motivating your hard work ethic. 

You’ve always been a hard worker; had always been distracted by what you consider important rather than what was essential- like eating, or sleeping. Each time you got away with it. You didn’t have anyone to look after you. 

Until Matt came along. 

He’s such an attentive man and would be even without his heightened senses. You knew he’d be worried about your desperation to complete your work, completely gone to the rest of the world as your stomach grumbled louder and your under eyes got darker. 

He’s a natural worrier. That’s what compelled you to keep your stress a secret. It’s hard lying to a human lie detector,  so you’ve taken to avoiding instead. It’s easy to avoid him when you’re so busy, anyway. A couple of messages per day seems to keep him subdued for now and you’re glad; it’s all the attention you could offer.

Your lip is pulled between your teeth, chewing hard enough to draw the taste of metallic blood. None of the words before you make sense through your blurry eyesight. As you attempt to read the same sentence for the third time, you angrily rip off your glasses and groan. 

Black spots take over your vision as you rub at your eyes aggressively, hoping the sickeningly dizzy feeling that’s making your throat feel tight will go away. It’s useless, yet you only allow yourself a second break before gulping down some water and returning to work. 

Your phone rings as soon as your fingertips touch the keys of your laptop and a curse slips out of your mouth before you can stop it. You hate yourself for the spark of annoyance that has your blood boiling when you read Matt’s name on your phone. 

He’d already left three messages from before. As well as a voice message that you hadn’t yet listened to; you were practically forced to answer the phone so as not to draw concern. You’re determined not to burden him with your issues - he’s a vigilante for God’s sake, he doesn’t need your petty problems on top of his own. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.” His deep voice crackles through your phone speaker. Instantly, your shoulders relax and your eyes flutter shut. He’s the bright sun during cold days, the flowers during winter; beautiful and everything you long to see.

“Hey, Matt.” You respond lazily, mustering up enough energy to open your eyes and read the words on your laptop screen. You use one hand to type while the other holds your phone to your ear. You can hear his smile in his voice. “I’ve barely talked to you all day. I thought you were coming to mine for dinner. Did you get my voicemail?”

Guilt nags at your stomach. “I’m so sorry, Matt,” the little sigh you can hear through the other line has your heart splintering, “I’ve just been so busy with staying on top of my work as well as Mara’s-”

“It’s okay. I know how busy you’ve been. I could come by with dinner. I can do some work while you do yours.” You hate to diminish the hope in his voice, but you know he'd be worried about your obvious stress as it shines through in your old clothing and unbrushed hair (not that he’d be able to see but feel). 

“Can we do a raincheck?” You whisper, guilt nagging at your stomach. His voice is so sweet. So understanding. It makes you want to cry. “Of course, baby. Try to eat, please. And take breaks. I’ll call you tomorrow; maybe we can go out for lunch.”

“Maybe,” If I’ve got enough work done, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You drop your phone on your lap as soon as the call ends. For once, you’re thankful for the large amounts of work, as it distracts you from the guilt that claws and tugs at your skin. 

⚝⚝⚝

The second time Matt calls, you’re nose-deep in paperwork that was slammed down on your desk. ‘More of Mara’s work,’ your boss said before leaving you with the rasing anxiety in your chest. Thoughts of taking your lunch break didn’t even assimilate in the blurry haze of your mind. 

Only the shrill ring of your phone brought you out of your bubble of work. Sighing, you don’t bother to check the name before picking it up, as you already know who it is. “Hey, Matt.” Your hand still scribbles words on the paper, phone pressed awkwardly against your ear by your shoulder.

“Hey. I called to see if you wanted lunch, but you sound busy.” Unlike last time, his voice doesn’t soothe your racing heart. If anything he makes it worse. “I’m so sorry,” you hope he can hear the sincerity in your voice, “I miss you. As soon as the crazy amount of work has subsided, I’ll call you.”

“Is there any way I can help?” You can’t help but smile at his caring nature, wanting nothing more than to be with him. But you know if you went to lunch you’d be too focused on work to be good company. “Remember that I love you?”

His laugh makes your heart melt, anxiety melting away with it. “Of course. As long as you remember that I love you. I won’t call so I don’t distract you from your work, but please take care of yourself. I love you so much, honey.”

“I love you too.” You hang up the phone and instead of returning to work immediately, you just sit there in silence, staring at the piles of paperwork in front of you. The sting of unshed tears joined by a nervous feeling in your stomach is enough to make you want to throw up. You’re so tired. 

You should have listened to your body. You should have gone out for lunch and taken a break. But instead, you got back to work, ignoring the bright red signs of a panic attack on the rise. 

⚝⚝⚝

Having been diagnosed with anxiety when you were younger, you’ve learned to identify signs of an upcoming panic attack. First, you begin to feel dizzy, then a little lightheaded. Your heart begins to hurt, and your stomach starts to turn. Then you can’t breathe, and you’re scratching at your skin to give your lungs more space to breathe. 

Now, as you stand in your kitchen, staring at the piles of paperwork that cover the dining room table, it’s hard to ignore how your body reacts to the sight of the never-ending workload; the feelings you so carelessly ignored before forced to be brought to attention. 

Your eyesight is unfocused, and you are unable to concentrate on the hand you’re using to prepare a small dinner. Your hands violently shake by your side and feel incredibly weak. But that isn’t what worries you; it’s the lack of air entering your lungs that has your eyes squeezed shut. 

Feelings of worthlessness travel up your throat and block your airways. You’re having a panic attack. The realization has you sliding down the fridge and to the floor, tears running freely down your flushed cheeks. You bring your knees to your chest, hands scratching at your throat as if it would allow air into your beaten lungs. 

Your body feels so weak, you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you tried. You’re lost to the darkness and anguish the past weeks have wrought upon you; lost to the cruel insecurities your mind created to fool you into this vicious despair. 

No matter how hard you cry, how hard you claw and scrape at your skin, you still can’t breathe. Hopelessness washes over your chilled skin, pulling you into its shadows. You can do nothing but let it take you as its own, the fight for air warring off as you succumb to the darkness that spots your eyes. 

And as your eyes flutter shut, you fail to notice the opening of the window in the living room. You fail to notice the hurried steps and the gloved hands that hold your face gently. Or the man’s desperate calls of your name. 

⚝⚝⚝

The first thing you notice when you regain consciousness is the exhaustion that wracks through your frail body. The second thing is the man who lays next to you on your bed. 

Matt. 

He’s sleeping peacefully, chest moving up and down in slow breaths. You frown, unsure of why he’s here. The last thing you remember was you freaking out about the workload and having a panic attack. You must have fainted from the lack of air, you consider then immediately cringe. How embarrassing. 

“What are you thinking about?” You jump at the sound of Matt’s deep voice, eyes shooting up to watch a small smile grace his face at your reaction. “Why are you here?” The question comes out ruder than you intended, but Matt’s smile doesn't waver. 

“I was on patrol,” he begins, pulling you into his warm embrace, “and figured I’d stop by to check on you. I wasn’t going to come in, just listen-”

“-that’s not creepy at all-”

“-then I heard you panicking. Your heart was beating really fast and you were breathing really heavily. You were already passed out from lack of air by the time I was inside.” He pulls you in tighter like the moment still haunts him. You trace your fingertips gently down his bare arm, ear against his chest as you listen to his heartbeat. 

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asks when it became clear you weren’t going to speak. You sigh. “I’ve been a little stressed lately. And I should’ve listened to my body but I didn’t. There’s just so much work and such little time. I can’t handle all of this workload.” The familiar bite of tears has you shoving your head in Matt’s neck, letting him hold you tightly and reassure you that everything will be okay. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have worked through your stress together,” He questions quietly and you shake your head in response. “You take the burden of everyone else’s problems, and still go out every night to face all the bad guys- I just didn’t want to burden you with my problems on top of all the rest.”

He pulls away and you try not to frown at the lack of contact. Slowly, his fingers move under your chin and compel you to look into his beautiful, unfocused eyes that sparkle in the city lights shining through your windows. “You are not a burden. Your problems are not a burden. I want to be here for you. I want you to tell me what’s going on in that smart little head of yours-” He flicks your forehead playfully before giving it a small kiss “-And I want you to know you can talk to me.”

You nod your head slowly, feeling like a child that’s just been scolded. “Okay.” He lays there in silence for a moment, seemingly contemplating his words before he speaks, “I think you need to talk to your boss,” you open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off with a gentle squeeze, “This amount of work isn’t healthy. I mean, why hasn’t the workload been separated and passed around to all of your co-workers? It’s fucking stupid if you ask me. She’s obviously taking advantage of your brilliance-”

“-Matt,” You cut him off with an amused smile. His eyes glint at the sound of your giggles as if that was his mission all along and he won first place. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me. If anything I’m being selfish.” He grins cheekily, kissing your palm as it raises to cup his cheek. “And why, pray tell, are you being selfish?” Your smile is sly and knowing. 

“Because I’m doing this to get my beautiful girl back and into my arms. Foggy isn’t as good company as you, y’know.” You giggle, holding him tightly as your mind settles on a decision. “I’ve missed you too.”

Tomorrow you’ll call your boss and ask for a lessened workload. But for now, you’re just going to lay in bed with the man you love dearly and let him hold you tightly. 

[jogetsobsessed]

Mud Puddles - Seth Clearwater

This is based on this request !! I had a lot of fun writing it, thank you so much to the anon who requested this! Also, I hit 100 followers, so yay! Thank you so much to everyone for being patient with me and my unreliable posting. I hope you all enjoy!

“Come on Y/N”, a squeaky voice called from ahead. 

You bounded through the countless mud puddles littering the Clearwaters property, the heavy raindrops soaking through your clothes. But you didn't care. 

You didn't care that the cold was reaching your bones or that the mud most likely had wrecked your favorite t-shirt. 

No, you simply were having the time of your life, chasing after your best friend, who was equally as dirty (if not dirtier) than you. 

It was some make-believe game that his older sister had taught the pair of you that had the two of you sliding all around the yard. Today marked the season's first “good” rain, turning the sizable lawn into your own slip-and-slide. 

The game went on for hours, each of you taking countless turns at being game leader, trekking through the wilderness, finding different treasures to take back to your shared treehouse, one that his father had built the two of you as a shared birthday gift years ago. 

Eventually, the chill did catch up to both of you, as you reluctantly marched back home, taking the time to jump in just a few more puddles. Once Seth had burst through his back door beckoning you to follow you were immediately stopped by his mother, who almost had a heart attack at the sight of him and you. 

Head-to-toe mud was caked on your bodies.

“Seth Clearwater and Y/N Y/L/N what on earth were you two thinking”, Sue screeched as she rushed off to find towels to attempt to clean you off enough for her to get you home. 

She was still yelling about how she couldn't believe the two of you managed to get that dirty in one afternoon and how you shouldn't be left unsupervised any longer. Leaving you and Seth standing in front of the sliding glass door, clothes dripping on the linoleum. You were focusing on the sound of your teeth chattering when you felt someone staring at you. 

Your gaze tracked to your left and you saw your best friend, teeth chattering and looking like a drowned rat staring back at you. As soon as he saw you looking back at him a wicked grin broke out on his face and he threw his head back, howling with laughter. 

Soon you joined him, laughing so hard that your cheeks started to hurt almost instantly. And there stood the two of you, ten years old, laughing until Sue came back in the room, accepting the towels she brought, and you happily agreed to stay for dinner. 

Life couldn't get any better, not when you lived in Forks, down the street from your best friend on the entire planet. 

The cruelness of reality caught up to you only a mere month later. 

When your parents sat you down after you had got ready for bed one night and explained that in just a couple weeks you were going to be leaving your childhood home, and the town that you loved. They did their best to try and explain how it was a smart economical decision for your family, your dad got a new high-paying job. Bribery was their main tactic, explaining that you were going to get to decorate your new bedroom and pick out some new toys and clothes for your new school. 

But it didn't matter. 

Because all you heard was that you were moving twenty hours away. 

Twenty hours away from your best friend. 

It was like your entire world was crumbling apart. The light from within was blown out. 

They promised that you would make new friends. 

But you didn't want to make new friends, not when you had the best one in the entire world. 

-------------------------

Rolling into town you truly had no plan. 

Your mom had heard from an old coworker of hers that the Clearwaters still live in the same house from your childhood. Sue and Harry had always been the type of people with an open-door policy, and you were hoping that their generosity still stood to this day. “You're always welcome in our home Y/N’, Sue had told you all those years ago when you ran to their home, tears streaming down your face after your parents told you about the move. You didn't need a place to stay, just someone to talk to and catch you up on everything from the last ten years. 

The turns in the road came to you naturally, it was like riding a bike, something you never truly forget. Crossing through Forks, turning left onto the reservation. And just like the drive through town, nothing had changed. 

And when you came upon the familiar gravel driveway you felt like you were ten years old again. 

------------

Your hand was hovering over the faded green door, the peeling paint revealing the old shade of brown it used to be. 

Your thoughts were racing, what if Sue didn't recognize you, or thought it was weird you had just shown up out of the blue after all these years? Part of you wanted to turn around and haul ass back to San Diego, and just pretend that the past few days and this road trip didn't happen. 

But you knew that if you showed up back home so soon you would look like a complete fool to your parents and your friends. You came all this way for this moment. 

The sound of your knuckles rapping against the wood caused the sounds of someone moving about the kitchen to halt. Footsteps padding through the house were the next sound and you took a step back, preparing for whoever you were about to come face to face with. 

“Y/N?” a voice said, completely startled. 

“Sue!”, you mirrored, relieved to see the woman you once considered a second mom. She stared at you in shock before opening the storm door fully, ushering you inside, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. Laughing you hugged her back, breathing in her familiar smell of pine and fresh bread. She pulled away but kept you in her outstretched grasp admiring you. 

“I can not believe how grown up you are”, she fawned tears in her eyes. 

“A decade away will do that to yah”, you said laughing slightly. 

She ushered you through the house and into the kitchen. You sat on the barstool where she directed you, accepting the glass of water and a small plate of cookies she pushed in your direction. Comfortable silence fell over the two of you as she stood on the opposite side of the counter just gazing at the sight of you. 

Conversation flowed freely after you broke the silence, complimenting her on the cookies. 

You were in the middle of laughing at a story about Leah learning how to drive for the first time when the sound of the front door crashing open sounded through the house. Sue immediately rolled her eyes at the sound, muttering something inaudible under her breath. 

Heavy stomps bounded into the kitchen but came to a sudden stop. 

“Hey honey, we have a surprise visitor” 

Slowly you pushed yourself around on the stool, taking in the sight in front of you. 

Saying he was handsome was an understatement. 

He stood tall, his tan complexion glistening with sweat and his jaw dropped to the floor. Your smile was weak as you watched his eyes look you over from head to toe, drinking in the sight of you. 

His gaze drifted past you, looking at his mom who seemed to understand what was going on, even if you didn't. 

Sue left the room, sliding past you and slipping out the back door. Leaving just you and Seth in the kitchen. 

Slowly you slid off the stool and took a few steps towards him. As you approached a loud snort escaped you and you snapped your palm across your mouth trying to stifle your laughter. 

“What is so funny?”, he questioned cocking an eyebrow. 

Your laughter only got louder as you had to crane your neck back to meet his gaze. Confused he started to laugh a little too, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you. 

“You were two inches shorter than me when I last saw you, that's what's so funny”. 

His laugh was full this time, finally understanding where yours was coming from. Now he stood what seemed to be eight to ten inches taller than you, definitely surpassing six feet. 

“I can't believe you're here, standing in my kitchen”, his voice was soft as if he didn't want to startle you, as if this was a dream. His hand slowly reached out towards yours. And when your two hands met you could have sworn you felt electricity. He coughed back another laugh, a nervous energy suddenly taking him over. 

You rubbed your thumb over his unnaturally warm hand as you met his gaze again, giggling before you threw your hands around his neck. He faltered for a second before he wrapped his arms around your waist lifting you and tilting you around slightly. You squealed, caught off guard by the gesture, tightening your grip on him. 

Seth sat you down and continued to stare at you, watching every slight movement you took, almost like he was afraid you would disappear. Tugging him towards the living room, the two of you sat on opposite ends of the loveseat, tucking your legs into your chest so you could turn and fully face him. 

You wanted to know everything about him. Every detail about the past ten years of his life. Because even though it had been almost that long since the two of you had an actual conversation you still felt drawn to him. Like no time had passed at all. Looking at him behind the new adult body you still saw the ten-year-old that you had once loved. 

Seth knew. 

He knew from the moment that you turned around. 

You were his person. 

The imprint bond was just like everyone, all his brothers had explained it. 

Suddenly Y/N was his reason for existing. 

The same girl that he had been having dreams about since he was a child, the same girl who he had pined after, breaking down in secret whenever she got brought up in conversation. The same girl who had been missing for over half his life. 

He had been able to communicate it with Sue by just the look in his eyes, and he was grateful she had gotten the hint and left the room. This was something that he needed to process with as few eyes on him as possible. 

You were none the wiser, simply laughing about the reversed height difference the two of you now shared. Why would you know, you hadn't been around when Seth phased for the first time or experienced the hellish year that followed the Cullen's returning from their short time away from Forks. 

And he was glad. You had been kept safe, far away from the danger that the supernatural world possessed. 

Seth wanted to tell you, he wanted to tell everyone. Something deep inside of him was telling him to jump up and scream it from the rooftops, you were his imprint. 

But he knew he couldn't. At least not right now. 

You didn't have the slightest clue about anything supernatural, so he certainly couldn't start by telling you that the two of you were meant to be together. That the two of you were going to be tied together for the rest of your lives. 

So for now, he didn't. 

For now, he relished in your company, listening intently as you told him about your life. About everything he had missed during your absence from Forks. 

And he was content, someday you would know. But not today. 

[bones4thecats]

Hey there Bones! Is it okay to request Tokyo Revengers Draken, Taiju, Hakkai and Hanma with a short and shy Reader that worry about them whenever they get hurt and the Reader patches them up. At one point Reader ends up crying because they're worried their boyfriend might die.

If this is too much you don't have to do it.

Shy! S/O Crying In Fear Of Their Life

Type of Writing: Request Character: Draken Ryuguji, Taiju Shiba, Hakkai Shiba, and Shuji Hanma Name: Shy! S/O Crying In Fear of Their Life Requester: @koushiro23

A/N: This nearly made me tear up. This is why I don't have a boyfriend myself U-U

Spoilers for: Tenjiku Arc

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✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐲 Draken knew how upset you would get whenever he would come over with injuries all bandaged up

🐲 He understood that you cared for his being like how one would care for their spouse, and he couldn't blame you, he couldn't fathom the thought of you being injured in a similar fashion

🐲 But, during a recent fight, he had quiet a few injuries and your home was nearby. So, he called you up and told you he was coming over and you might wanna ready some bandages

" Why? Oh god, did you get into another fight?! Are you alright, Draken?! " " Yeah, just bleedin' a little. I'll be by in a couple, okay? Don't worry. " " Yeah, okay... see you. "

🐲 Rushing around your home, you were glad your family wasn't home at the moment, since seeing their child's boyfriend come in with injuries would make them go on-edge

🐲 Once you heard your front door open and your boyfriend call out your name with obvious strain in his voice, you came out with a pillow and blanket

🐲 Draken sat down on your couch as you wrapped the blanket around his legs, making sure he was warm and you ran in and out of the room carrying bandages and whatnot

🐲 As you continued to cover his minor injuries, he noticed that you would stiffen and sniffle every time you saw a new cut

" You okay, love? " " Oh lord... Draken- why on Earth do you do this shit? You know how much I fear losing you! Why do you keep doing this?! I just- I can't even bear the thought of you getting hurt and then, you not... you not coming back to my embrace... "

🐲 Tears swelled up in your eyes as his widened in shock before looking down in shame. Why did he do this? For Mikey? He guesses, he also just wants to keep you safe, and establishing his dominance helped

🐲 He sighed and wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling you onto his lap as he kissed your forehead, making a silent promise for only you to hear

" I'll try to be more careful, okay? " " Okay... " " I love you, Y/N L/N. " " And I you, Ken Ryuguji. "

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✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🔥 He was beyond upset right now, punching holes into the walls in rage as he heard his followers yelling in the other room

🔥 Why did that damn fight go so wrongly?!

" Taiju- " " WHAT?! "

🔥 He froze in place as he saw your smaller form flinch at his loudness, oh god, why did he just yell at you?! He guesses he was madder than he even realized

" I brought some stuff to fix you up... I figured you still had some sort of injury on yourself... " " Uh... yeah. Sorry for yelling at you, I just- " " I understand. You're under some stress. "

🔥 Taiju smiled lightly at your words as he chuckled, you always had the ability to calm him down from his highs of blood-lust and anger, haven't you?

🔥 Allowing him to find somewhere comfortable to sit so you could come up and bandage his hands up from the multiple holes in the walls, he gritted his teeth as you dragged a rag with alcohol on it across said injuries

🔥 Once you had begun to wrap the final bandages around his knuckles, he looked up at your face, noticing how your eyes were starting to fog over with tears

🔥 You were starting to cry? For what reason?

" Y/N? Are you okay? " " Hm? Oh- yeah. Perfectly splendid. " " Horse shit. I know when my dear S/O is feeling down better than anyone else. What's wrong? "

🔥 Sighing in sadness, you began to rant about how scared you were for him. Some of the hits that their rival gang was throwing at them were scaring you, he could've been killed when that guy pushed a knife through his hand!

🔥 Like, what if he hit an artery? What if that injury got infected and somehow killed him slowly?

🔥 He just sat there holding you in his lap, allowing you to cry into his chest, his Black Dragon's uniform pushed away to the side as he pet your head

🔥 You really were a worry-wart for him, huh?

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

☄️ You're boyfriend was not answering any of your calls, and that was starting to scare you deeply. Hakkai always answered you

" C'mon hon, answer me... "

☄️ Nothing.

☄️ It was at that moment where you heard your front door being knocked on. And, grabbing your bat for protection just in case, you looked through the peephole, only to be met with the sight of your boyfriend's short blue hairdo

☄️ Laying the weapon aside, you unlocked the door, opening it so you could take in his beautiful form

" Hey there... " " Oh my god! Hakkai, what happened to you?! " " Just a little scuffle a few blocks down, that's all. "

☄️ Grabbing his arm, you pulled him inside, throwing him onto the couch, you ran into the bathroom. grabbing everything you knew would help him out with his injuries

☄️ Hakkai watched as you sat down on the table in front of him, coating his cuts with alcohol and other stuff to help it get clean and heal before wrapping decently sized bandages around said cuts

☄️ You eventually stopped moving and stared at one cut that was still bleeding, it was a very light amount, but it still scared you

" Hakkai... why do you do this? " " Do what? " " Fight so much? Do you know what could've happened to you?! You could've been killed! I know that may be an over-exaggeration, but, come on! I just- I can't bear the fact that just because of some over-grown bastard I may not see you again... "

☄️ He stared at you and looked into your eyes, now allowing tears to cascade down your cheeks, you were in so much pain

☄️ Hakkai, much like the previous two, grabbed you and pulled you into his lap. And he just brushed his fingers through your hair, shushing you and reassuring you that he was safe

☄️ He wasn't planning on leaving you alone in this world any time soon

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

☠️ You and him have had this talk multiple times

☠️ You understood that fighting was a major part of Hanma's life, but why was it nearly every single night now he was coming home with injuries all over himself?!

☠️ Hanma had walked through your door while holding his arm, trying to keep something from you, no doubt

☠️ That was when you pulled him onto the couch and ordered him to stay put

" Ooh~ the midget is getting bossy. I like it~ "

☠️ You glared at your boyfriend over your shoulder and you walked into the bathroom and carried a box of medical supplies outside, making Hanma freeze and sigh

" Baby, I'm perfectly fine. " " I can see the cuts and blood on your head, Hanma. I'm not stupid. "

☠️ Turning on the TV, you turned around and began to make good work of his cuts and bruises, covering those you deemed most possible for infections

☠️ He sighed as s familiar name came on, Kisaki Tetta. He had been hit by a truck and killed while fleeing away from Takemichi and Draken apparently

☠️ This did not shock you, the guy was a lunatic. But then again, you were dating a just-as-bad lunatic

☠️ Like, Hanma nearly killed someone because they tried laying a hand on you while he was standing right there

☠️ But, listening to him rant about his fight with Draken and how Kisaki shot two members of Tenjiku made you grit your teeth and start tearing up

" Woah- uh- babe? You're kinda tearin' up there. " " I know... " " Why are ya' tearing up, if I can ask. " " Why? Because Shuji, what if you had gotten killed like Kisaki?! I don't know what I would be able to do without you here to make me feel safe, to protect me from all those nasty people out there! It's like- if you guys had switched places... I don't know what I'd end up doing... "

☠️ Hanma looked at his covered hand and sighed before standing up and picking you up, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist

" I do not plan on going anywhere like that soon. And while I may not have the plan fully worked out, believe me babe, I'll always come back to ya'. "

☠️ You smiled and hugged him tightly, making your boyfriend laugh and kiss your neck before blowing raspberries into the flesh

" Now... how about we have some fun, bossy pants? "

[girlgenius1111]

aftershocks

barça x reader

r tries to recover from the accident. it isn't as easy as she anticipates.

cw: panic attack, nightmares.

-----

Alexia was hovering. You'd been home for barely 2 hours, and she was sitting next to you, staring at you as you watched your allowed hour of TV, as if she was going to have to pick you up and take you back to the hospital at a moments notice. Her shoes were still on, her keys in her pocket. You knew was nervous and worried, but you wanted to not feel like a patient. Not when you were finally home. Well, at Alexia's home. Which had been yours before, and would, evidently be it again.

You shifted slightly, and your arm gave a twinge of pain at the movement. You winced unconsciously, barely noticing. Everything hurt, pretty much all the time; this was not anything special.

"What is it?" Alexia asked, sitting forward. She looked panicked, almost, and you had to remind yourself that she had seen you right after the accident. She was traumatized, and she was just looking out for you.

"I'm okay, Ale." You assured her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

She somewhat relaxed back into the couch, though she still looked ready to leap to her feet at a moments notice. You glanced down at your phone, checking the time, feeling only relief when you noticed that it was an appropriate time to go to bed. You were exhausted from the short car ride home from the hospital, and you were also exhausted of being in the presence of people. You loved your teammates, and the nurses and doctors had been incredibly, but you hadn't had a single second to yourself since the accident, and you were dying to just sit. In silence. By yourself.

You stood up, slowly, almost amused by the way Alexia got to her feet right away as well.

"I'm gonna go to bed, Ale, I'm exhausted."

"Good, you need rest. Cariño, do you need help with anything?" You appreciated that she'd asked, instead of just trying to help you.

"Maybe up the stairs, but I'm good from there." You said quietly. You were not, nor had you ever been, good at asking for help. You had to learn, and fast, because you were pretty sure getting up the stairs by yourself was an almost impossible feat.

Alexia smiled encouragingly at you, proud that you'd asked for what you needed, and hadn't just shook off her request for help like she'd expected.

You made your way to the stairs, and Alexia wrapped a careful arm around your back, making sure to avoid your ribs, and your bad arm, and also the bruises that littered most of your abdomen. There were very few places you could be touched right now without feeling pain, and even then, you just had to grit your teeth and get through it if you wanted to be able to move anywhere.

By the time you got to your bed, clinging onto Alexia when she moved to let you go at the top of the stairs, you were sweating a bit, and breathing deeply through the waves of throbbing aches washing over you.

You sat on the edge of the bed, waiting until the waves had subsided somewhat before looking up again. Alexia stood in front of you, and if you didn't know better, you would have thought that she was the only with broken bones by the look on her face, like she was feeling everything you were feeling.

"I'm alright, Ale."

"You should have slept on the couch, the stairs are too much for you. Or maybe you should have stayed with Lucy, or Ingrid and Mapi, they're all on one floor. Maybe tomorrow we can-" Alexia's word flew out of her mouth fast, and you could barely understand what she was saying.

"No. I want to be here. Please." You said, feeling embarrassment grip you tightly at how pathetic you sounded.

"Okay, pequeña." Alexia said easily, although the worry lines on her forehead didn't relent.

She got out your pajamas for you handing them over, before hovering anxiously at your side.

"I've got it Alexia, I promise."

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. I'll be back in a couple to bring you some ice." With that, she left the room, shutting the door behind her. You managed to change by yourself, for the most part. You your athletic shorts off, and the pajama shorts on fine, giving the large bandage covering almost the entirety of the outside of your left leg a wide birth. You got the shirt off too, carefully removing your arm from it's sling, and doing your best to jostle your abdomen as little as possible as you pulled the shirt up and over your head.

It hurt. A lot. Something so simple, and you were biting your lip to keep from crying out. You wanted to lay down, or lean over, or do anything to relax your body a little, but you couldn't do any of those things without help, or else your ribs protested heavily. You gritted your teeth, getting the shirt over your head. You couldn't get it on the rest of the way, though. You would have to wait for Alexia. You were wearing a sports bra, though, so you wouldn't be completely humiliated.

You would be slightly humiliated though. There were tears welling in your eyes, and your shirt hung pathetically around your neck. You sniffled every time you inhaled, and you felt so useless. You couldn't even get your shirt on by yourself. You were frustrated beyond belief, and you couldn't do anything about it because doing anything hurt.

Alexia returned, knocking softly on the door.

"Come in," you said, voice cracking on the last word, much to your dismay.

Alexia walked in cautiously, hearing the motion in your voice.

"I need help." You said, sounding rather dejected.

"That's okay," Alexia said, moving to your side. She tugged the shirt over your arms, carefully. "Anything else?"

"I just want to go to sleep." You admitted. Alexia nodded earnestly, helping you to recline back onto the pillows. She sat on the edge of the bed, next to you. Once you were settled, she placed an ice pack on your ribs, made you drink some water and take some pills, before brushing the hair off your forehead.

"Thanks, Ale." You mumbled.

"Of course. It's going to get easier, pequeña, I promise."

"Yeah." You didn't sound convinced.

Alexia's face lit up after a second.

"I know what will make you feel better!" She got up, rifling through the bags of your stuff on the ground. She found what she was looking for, standing and holding it up with a ridiculous grin. It was your stuffed blue dinosaur, the one you'd slept with since you were a baby. The team always made fun of you because you brought him with you on away trips, until you'd gotten so tired of the teasing, you started leaving him at home.

You slept better with him, though, as ridiculous as it sounded, and you made a mental note to thank Ingrid for stuffing him in the suitcase, and presumably hiding him from Mapi, because if she had seen, you would have heard about it.

"What is his name? Chester?" Alexia said, handing him to you. You tucked him under your good arm, rolling your eyes. Alexia knew his name.

"You know it's Cosmo."

"Right, Christopher."

You rolled your eyes again, but your lips turned up into a smile. Alexia beamed at the sight, happy her idiotic bit had made you smile, even if it was just a bit. "Goodnight, Ale."

"Buenas noches, pequeña. I'll leave my door open, shout if you need me, okay?"

You nodded in the affirmative, and Alexia left you to sleep.

You passed out almost instantly, body and mind drained from your somehow exhausting day. While you'd been in the hospital, you hadn't had any issues sleeping, likely do to the pain medication they'd given you. You didn't dream, and sleeping proved to be a completely peaceful respite, mind wonderfully blank. Now, though, you were just taking over the counter stuff, which did nothing to help you sleep.

They had had a psychologist come talk to you about the accident, but you'd waved her away, saying that you were fine. You thought you were. The car ride home had been slightly terrifying, but you'd really barely thought back to what had happened.

-----

It was more of a memory than a nightmare that hit you, and at first, it felt like you were just remembering the event, than dreaming it. It was as if you were watching the accident from above, yet feeling everything as it was happening to you. It was in slow motion, the car approaching the intersection, you going when the light turned green. You saw the car braking late, tires screeching on the pavement even as the it barreled towards you. You watched yourself turn your head, seeing the car through the visor on your helmet, the way the front wheel of your bike turned just slightly. This was probably what saved your leg, you think.

Then the car is making contact with the bike, and you're flying off towards the ground, rolling for a while, as the bike crashed and slid away, too. Just as you stopped rolling, you snapped back into your body, feeling all of the pain you remembered. Your breath caught in your throat as you writhed around in agony. You were stuck in that moment, the few seconds after the crash you'd been awake, an endless loop of the most you'd ever hurt, and the most scared you'd ever been. The sky was going dark, and you couldn't remember if this was a dream or not, all you could think was that you were sure you were going to die.

-----

Alexia had been in and out of sleep, jerking awake at the smallest noise. She'd checked on you every time she woke up, and each time, found you peacefully asleep. She wasn't sure why she was so worried; you'd been sleeping fine, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to be awake for you.

It was around 3 in the morning when she woke again, hearing what she thought was you crying out. She was frustrated, the last few days having been exhausting for her too, and she had rolled over to go back to sleep, convinced that it was just her imagination again.

She sat straight up in bed a second later though, hearing another sound from the direction of your room. She flew out of bed, down the hall, and into your room, freezing when she saw you thrashing around under the covers. Your face was twisted up in pain, likely from the movements your body was making in your sleep. It was obvious to her what you must be dreaming about.

Alexia moved closer to the bed, heart physically hurting in her chest at the sight of you, tears leaking from behind your shut eyelids. She said your name once, twice, then a third time when you didn't wake. She scanned your body for where she could possibly shake you awake without hurting you, and settled on your uninjured right arm. She grabbed it, squeezing gently.

"Pequeña, wake up," she said gently, watching as your eyes flew open. They scanned the room, wide and wet with tears, and when you realized that you were not laying in the middle of the street, instead in your warm bed in Alexia's house, you lurched towards her.

You didn't get very far, crying out loudly when you moved even a fraction of an inch. You became aware that every part of you still ached, and though you weren't sure why, allowed Alexia to ease you back down onto the bed, until you were no longer aggravating your ribs. You reached your good arm towards Alexia, and she grabbed it easily.

"You're okay, pequeña, it was just a dream," she said. You nodded, but your chest still rose and fell rapidly, and you looked to be confused as well as in pain. "You are here with me, at my house."

"Hurts," you choked out, still not really sure why every one of your injuries was aching so badly.

"I know, you were moving a lot in your sleep. Just relax, I'll go get you some more ice," she said, moving to get off the bed. You let out a little squeak in response, and Alexia gave in, sitting back on the bed.

"It was green," you mumbled after a minute, somewhat calmer, but still shaking lightly.

"What was green?" Alexia asked.

"The light. It was green. I didn't do anything wrong, and I still got hit."

Alexia's face grew stormy, and you misunderstood.

"I promise, Capi, the light was green, and I even waited a second before going, like you're supposed to." You implored, and Alexia shook her head, shushing you quietly.

"I know, I'm not angry with you. It wasn't your fault. It was the other drivers fault, and he will pay for what he did."You didn't spend too long thinking about that, mind drifting off to other things.

"I thought I was going to die," you said, looking up at Alexia. You looked scared, terrified really, and it was clear that the full weight of what had happened was only just now hitting you.

I did too, Alexia thought. I thought I was watching you die on the ground in front of me.

"You didn't die, you were never going to die. You are fine, you are here with me, and you are completely fine." Alexia said conclusively.

"I'm fine." You echoed.

"You're fine." Alexia promised again. You had settled back into the bed, clearly exhausted from the whole ordeal. As soon as your eyes closed, though, they would snap right back open, flashing to Alexia, as if to make sure she was still there.

"I am not going anywhere, pequeña. I will stay right here until you fall asleep."

You visibly relaxed, eyes shutting almost immediately, and this time, they didn't jerk back open. Alexia stayed, as promised, until she heard your breathing even out, and your grip slackened on her hand.

She made her way back to her room, contending with the odd feeling that this was not the only time you were going to struggle with nightmares.

-----

As usual, Alexia was right. Every night, it seemed, you had the same dream, and every night, Alexia heard you, came into your room and woke you up. You were both exhausted, completely and to your core. Your fourth night home, you woke up with your fourth reoccurring nightmare. It felt like every time, you laid on the ground, in pain, longer. You'd woken by yourself, and you knew you hadn't been very quiet. Alexia didn't come, though, so you forced yourself to calm down, before getting up to make sure she was okay.

Your anxiety levels in general had spiked since the accident, and you found yourself worried every time anyone went... anywhere. You crept down the hall, good arm wrapped around your abdomen. Alexia's door was open, as she'd been leaving it, and she was tucked under the covers, still out cold.

You turned away, realizing the toll this must be taking on her. Dealing with you and your injuries during the day, your nightmares at night, and the team and training dominated everything else. You were old enough to deal with nightmares on your own, you decided. Alexia needed rest.

Your version of dealing with the nightmares was slowly making your way downstairs, before cozying up on the couch and turning on the TV quietly. You eventually drifted back off, and that is where Alexia found you the next morning.

She was sitting on the other end of the couch, feet tucked under her, as she sipped at a mug of coffee. You'd woken, you realized, because she'd turned the TV to a football match, and the change in volume had registered somewhere deep in your subconscious.

"What time is it?" You asked groggily.

"Almost 10," Alexia replied, looking away from the TV when she heard you speak. "What are you doing down here?"

"I... I was hot in my room, and it was cooler down here." Alexia raised a single eyebrow at you, but you held strong, maintaining eye contact.

"You were hot, so you came downstairs to sleep on the couch under 3 blankets?" Alexia asked after a minute.

"Once I got down here, I was cold, but I didn't want to go all the way back upstairs, so I used more blankets." You said weakly.

"What happened?" She asked, as if you hadn't spoken at all.

"Nothing."

"Pequeña," she said, sighing.

"Nightmare." you replied. Alexia's face changed, realization washing over it. She seemed to have just figured out that you hadn't woken her with a nightmare last night.

"I didn't hear you, did I? I slept through it?"

You nodded your head.

"I'm so sorry." She said, voice filled with guilt.

"Don't be. You don't need to wake up every time I have a nightmare. I was fine, I am fine." You dismissed.

"These nightmares... they've been happening a lot," Alexia stated, watching as your body physically recoiled away from the conversation. You stood from the couch, prepared to leave the room.

"Hey, don't run away from me. You can't just pretend the nightmares aren't happening, pequeña, they won't get better if you ignore them."

"I don't want to talk about it." You replied firmly, continuing on your way towards the stairs.

"Did you remember I'm leaving this afternoon? I'll be gone for a night, we have that away match in Sweden."

You hadn't remembered, honestly. You'd been pretty preoccupied with everything else going on, and when Alexia had asked if you would be okay with her going to the game a few days ago, you'd agreed easily. You thought you'd be doing better, mentally and physically, by the time she had to go.

You'd already moved into her house, were disrupting her entire life, not to mention waking her up every night. You wouldn't be the reason she missed a match, even if being by yourself was miserable.

"I know," you lied. "It's fine." You didn't turn around, instead keeping your back to Alexia.

"I can stay if you need me. Or you can go to Lucy's, she's out injured. The blonde offers gently, tone completely sincere.

"No, really. It's fine. I'll be fine."

Honestly, Alexia didn't believe you for a minute, but she knew you'd never admit that you needed her. She hoped you'd realize that it was okay for you to need her, to need help, and maybe the only way to do that would be to go.

She stood, walking towards where you stood, facing away from her. She turned you around carefully, leaving her hands on your shoulders. "Promise me you'll call if something happens? Or Lucy?"

"I'll be fine." You insisted, shrugging out from her grasp, and going to hide away in your room.

"That's not a promise, pequeña," Alexia shouted after you.

-----

Alexia left later that day, rather hesitantly, but left nonetheless. You had settled on the couch, still pretty much not allowed to do anything more than walk short distances. You were expecting a knock on the door any minute now, because there was simply no way Alexia wouldn't have instructed everyone that she knew in the city of Barcelona to check on you.

Instead of the predicted knock on the door, your phone rang. Leah's contact popped up and you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the phone call ahead. Aside from talking to Leah, briefly, over the phone in the hospital, you hadn't spoken to her since. Your screen time had been severely limited because of the concussion, but you knew Lucy and Keira had been keeping your national team captain up to date.

"Hello." Leah said, somewhat coldly. She was a worrier, and she was big on honesty, so the situation was obviously really hard for her. She was concerned, yes, but she was also angrier than almost anyone else. That was how Leah was, though. Her worry manifested as anger- she didn't like to be vulnerable and admit she was scared for you, so she covered it up with being angry.

"How long are you going to be mad at me for?" You complained.

"How long until you'll be back on the field after your stupid and avoidable accident?" Leah fired back.

You flinched slightly. It was avoidable. That was something that you couldn't get out of your head, that it was your fault. If you'd just listened none of this would have happened. It was your fault that everyone was worried, that Alexia had to see you so hurt, that she had to take care of you, that your teammates across the continent had to worry about you from afar. It was all your fault.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" Leah's voice jolted you from your spiral, and you forced a smile on your face.

"Yep! All good. What's up with you?" You asked, changing the subject. Leah looked at you, searchingly, not understanding what had just happened. You'd spaced out completely after she'd spoken, getting this fareway look on your face, growing incredibly pale. She worried something was going south with your concussion.

"Where is Putellas? I want to talk to her."

"Why?" You wondered suspiciously.

"Is she there?" Leah asked impatiently.

"No, she's gone for the night. Away game for the Champions League. She'll be back tomorrow night."

Leah's worry grew. "She left you there by yourself?"

"Leah, seriously I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine, kid. You just spaced out in the middle of my sentence, looked like you were going to throw up, and then snapped out of it. Is it your head? Are you dizzy? You should call for an ambulance just to be safe." Leah was rambling, feeling rather helpless.

"Jesus, Leah. No. It's not my head, I'm not dizzy, I. Am. Fine. Everyone needs to stop worrying."

The blonde wasn't dropping this easily. "Why did you freak out then?"

You paused. You could lie, Leah would be able to tell, and she'd probably call the Spanish military in to check on you. Or you could try to be truthful.

"You're right, it was stupid and it was avoidable. I shouldn't have been so reckless." You answer quietly. You watch as Leah's face loses all of it's frustration, melting into a completely soft, concerned one. She had the reputation for being harsh and strict, but really, she was the easiest to make fold. Her heart was too big to stick to any of the things she said when she was mad.

"I shouldn't have said that. I was worried, yes. You're an adult, though, and you can make your own decisions. And from what I've heard, the accident was completely not your fault."

You shrug indifferently. Leah tries to take a different approach. All the time she's known you, she's known you to be stubborn. She had to see how deep this guilt really went, and she knew how.

"Are you going to get a new bike?" She asked.

You scoffed. "No."

"Why? Because you don't want to, or because everyone else doesn't want you to?"

"Both I guess. Scaring everyone like that again wouldn't be fair, and all anyone would think about when I rode off on it would be the time I almost died." You pause, lowering your voice before aditting the next part. "And I don't really think I could ever get on one again anyway." Your cheeks flush red, and you avoid Leah's eyes on the screen. Admitting that you're scared is not something you're comfortable with.

"It's okay if you're scared, y/n. What happened was terrifying. There isn't anything wrong with having a hard time with it. Lucy mentioned you'd been having nightmares..."

"My god, has Alexia told everyone?!" You groan. "I'm not scared, they aren't nightmares, they are just dreams. I am fine. Tell everyone to stop worrying."

It's quiet for a minute after your outburst.

"I don't think you are okay. But I know better than to try to convince you to change your mind and be honest. Just... don't push everyone away okay? It's not fair to you. You need a support system right now. Let yourself lean on the people that love you."

"I'm fine, Leah."

She sighed deeply. "Well, if you decide to stop being stubborn, I'm always here for you, yeah?

"Bye, Lee."

With that, you hung up the phone, throwing down onto the couch, incredibly frustrated. You weren't being stubborn. You didn't need help.

You were worried about sleeping that night; even though you had been trying not to wake Alexia up, it was still comforting to know that she was there, just a room over. Now, you would be all alone in the house. You hadn't had any issues when you napped, though, so you decided to get ahead of what you expected to be a night of little sleep.

The couch was comfortable enough, and you left the TV on, the soft hum of voices, combined with the general exhaustion that plagued your healing body, quickly lulling you to sleep. It was afternoon when you dozed off, and afternoon still when you jolted awake.

It was the same nightmare, but it seemed that each time you had it, it felt more and more real. At the beginning, you could remind yourself it was a dream; now, though, you didn't realize that until you had woken up. Sometimes it even took a few minutes for you to get a handle on your surroundings, the pain in your abdomen from your rapid breathing not helping you.

This was one of the worse ones. The dream had lasted longer than ever, and this time, you could hear different people around you, telling you that it was your fault for being so reckless. People you loved.

You were sweating, laying on Alexia's couch, gripping onto the blanket wrapped around you like it was the only protection between you, and the death you had just experienced in your nightmare.

It took you a while to calm your breathing down, and by the time you did that, your ribs felt like they were on fire inside of you, burning from the movement. You realized you were crying, and that it wasn't because of the pain.

You'd almost died.

You were alive, you reminded yourself.

But you came so close to not being alive.

The voices from your dreams echoed around your head, and you could only cry harder, turning to push your face into the pillow underneath you. Nothing you did made the tears, or the body shaking sobs, stop.

After another 10 minutes, when you were seriously worried you were going to damage your ribs, you pulled your phone out. You should have called Lucy, really, but Alexia was the only one that had ever seen you even close to as upset as you were now, and you were sure she was the only one who could help you calm down.

Alexia's phone rang right to voicemail. She was on media today, you remembered, and she'd told you to call someone else on the team if she didn't answer, and if it was an emergency. You scrolled through your recent calls, clicking on the first teammate that you saw; Ingrid.

She answered after only two rings, and you could hear the sounds of the team hanging out and joking around in the background.

"Hi elskling!," Ingrid said, sounding happy to get a call from you. She'd been checking in a lot, which you appreciated, but you knew you'd been pretty distant with her, as you'd been with most of the team. Guilt was a funny thing, and bothering everyone more than you already had felt necessary. You hadn't called to catch up with Ingrid, though.

"Ingrid, can you get Alexia please," you choked out, swallowing a sob that threatened to escape you.

"Yes, of course." Ingrid's tone turned serious, and you heard her mumbling to Mapi, before she came back on. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"No, I just need Alexia."

"Okay, Mapi's just gone to get her. She'll be right here, I promise."

"Thank you," you say, voice nothing but a broken whisper.

"It's going to be okay, y/n, I promise." Ingrid said, and you tried to internalize her words. You heard voices moving closer, one of Mapi, and one, unmistakably, of Alexia, but the panicked version of her voice. One you'd been hearing a lot of recently.

"Hey, pequeña, I'm here," Alexia murmured over the phone. "Talk to me, what's going on?"

"Nightmare. Worse than normal." You get out. You're still crying, and Alexia can barely understand you.

"Are you having a hard time breathing?" She asks.

"No, no I just can't stop crying. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Okay, that's okay. Everything is okay pequeña. You're allowed to cry." Alexia assured you.

"It hurts, Ale."

Alexia felt her heart shatter at the hopeless tone of your voice. She couldn't fix this, not from so far away. She turned to Mapi and Ingrid, who were hovering nearby.

"Call Lucy, tell her to go to my house." She mouthed at them. Mapi whipped out her phone, walking away as she talked quickly into it.

"Sit up for me, cariño, can you do that?"

"Okay," you mumble.

"Do you have any water near you?"

"Yeah."

"I want you to take a couple slow sips, okay?"

You do as Alexia says, following her instructions for the next few minutes. You haven't really calmed down at all, though, and Alexia is relieved when she hears a knock on the door through the phone.

"Cariño, that's Lucy. Can you open the door for her?"

"I-I think so." You struggle to your feet, wobbling towards the door, and unlocking it with a shaky hand. Lucy is stood on the other side, and she moves forward as soon as the door opens, steadying you. You only feel relieved when you see her, all thoughts of being embarrassed pushed from your head, just desperate to stop crying.

"Luce is here," you tell Alexia.

"Okay, good. Do what she says, okay? And call me when you feel a little better?" You agree, hanging up the phone, and allowing Lucy to guide you over to the couch. She sat down next to you, rubbing your back softly.

"You're okay, kiddo."

"I can't calm down, Luce," you stutter out.

"You can, I promise. Have I told you about what Narla did the other day?"

You're slightly confused at the abrupt change of subject, but Lucy launches into a ridiculous story about Narla at the dog park. You don't really notice that the tears stop, that your body has stopped trembling so hard, until Lucy finishes her story, and miraculously, you feel significantly better.

"Okay?" Lucy asks, handing you your water, which you gulp down gratefully.

"Yeah. Sorry. Don't know what happened."

Lucy's expression is unreadable as she stares at you for a minute. She leaves you with the idea that there is a conversation to be had, but she doesn't begin it. You get the distinct feeling that she's waiting for Alexia to be there.

"I'll get you some ice." She says instead. She goes to the kitchen, and you recline back onto the couch, wincing at the pain. Lucy returns quickly, her brow furrowed in worry as she tugs your shirt up a little, and looks at the dark blue bruises of your ribs.

"Do they look worse?" She asks you, placing the ice pack on them.

"No, the same."

"You should call Alexia back, she'll be losing her mind." You shrug. "Y/n, come on. Call her." Lucy's voice is uncharacteristically stern.

"I hate worrying everyone." You admit weakly, but reach for your phone, clicking Alexia's contact.

Lucy watches as you talk to her, assuring her over and over again that you're fine, really. She can tell by Alexia's doubtful voice that the captain is thinking the same thing Lucy is; you needed help. Neither of them were quite sure how to get you to agree to it, though.

-----

didnt' mean for there to be another part but this got long so :)

[love-bitesx]

May I request a hobie x fem reader

Reader is also a spider person and dating hobie. she gets in a fight with other spider people that been talking about hobie behind his back, And he just comfort her and help with her injuries.

: ̗̀➛ HONOUR. hobie brown x fem!reader

summary: after hearing fellow spider-people talking rudely about hobie, y/n defends him, taking a couples punches in the process. words: 1.6k warnings: fem reader, she/her pronouns used, mentions of blood & injury, miguels pissy like always, general mentions of fighting/violence

thank you sm for the request!! i hope i did it justice. im getting through all the asks, so pls be patient! ily all sm

"he's just a bit freaky, you know."

shoulders tensing, you eavesdropped on a pair of haphazard spider-people, their snark voices carrying through the reverberant room. you were sitting by the 'go-home machine' – aptly named – waiting for miguel to arrive and dish out orders, listening to them tattle about hobie brown.

"literally," a second voice tagged themselves in, jumping on the wagon of comments, "just turns up, acts like a prick and somehow everyone puts up with him."

chest burning, you tried to grasp your composure, gripping onto it with white knuckles – similar treatment given to the metallic desk you sat on.

first hand, you saw how hard hobie worked – having been dating him for a while now. though he lived to deny it, saying he was only in the spider society to look after you, gwen and pavitr - you constantly experienced his passion for keeping you all safe. even if its unconventional, he deserved his place here more than anyone.

"don't know what miguel was thinking bringing him here," the first spider snarled, a hint of a smirk lacing his tone, "he's useless."

stomach twisting, you physically bit down on your tongue - miguel would kill you in broad daylight if you started a fight in the headquarters (ironic, you thought, but you didn't want to bite the hand that fed you).

"freakshow, honestly," the other muttered, followed by a cold-hearted guffaw that made your blood spurt past the boiling point, "he doesn't even belong here."

as though someone had physically flipped your restraint, severing your ties, you turned to the duo, taking them by surprise when you shot a web in their direction, sticking the second man's mouth shut.

"what the hell?" the free one spun to you, stance ready.

you kept your posture strong, enraged eyes trained on him, "don’t be such a prick,” you spat through a clenched jaw. wrist aching at the urge to web him to the wall, your fingers itched.

he scoffed, stepping up to you, “i don’t think it’s any of your business, sweetheart.”

in your peripheral, your eyes caught the sight of the second spider clawing at the webs smothering his face, and you shot again – his hands now clasped together against his chest like a prayer.

a second audacious scoff sounded from the man in front of you, and a threatening tingle vibrated each and every bone of your spine – your spidey-senses alive with caution. it quickly became apparent why, when a fist flew towards the side of your head – an aggressive muttering of “oi, what do you think you’re doing?” accompanying it.

an inch before it connected, you ducked your head, crouching to the floor and kicking at the man’s knees. he buckled, falling to the ground and your fist collided with his jaw. your rage clouded your vision, adrenaline pumping through your veins like a poison. knuckles aching, pulled back, you webbed him to the concrete.

“y/n?” margo called from behind you, and you turned to see her. eyes wide like saucers, she looked at you with confusion.

“they start—” you couldn’t even finish your sentence when a powerful blow hit the side of your cheek, knocking you to the side, hip smashing into the corner of a desk.

shielding yourself with your arms, you caught vision of your attacker; the first man you webbed had freed himself, pouncing to you in defence. yelling something ending in “bitch”, he swung again, crashing into your ribs and you groaned in pain, connecting your web to a beam just behind him, pulling yourself away from his towering stance. with your new advantage, though winded, you raised your wrist to web him once more, when the huge, mechanical doors swung open.

“what the hell is going on in here?” miguel’s booming voice thundered across each vibrating wall, and you both froze, your arm gripped around your aching ribcage.

accompanying him was a cluster of spider-people, excluding your boyfriend. they took a second to adjust to the darkness of the room, before they halted at the scene in front of him.

“she went crazy, miguel!” the man on the floor shouted in defence, and your chest was heaving so heavily, you were at a loss for words.

“y/n, what happened?” gwen’s tone was soft, you could feel them approaching, your adrenaline draining through your body – taking any comprehensible inhibition with it.

“he swung at me!” you barked back, and the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you made your chest swell in anger, “don’t spin this on me when they’re the ones who started it.”

“we didn’t do anything!” unwebbing themselves from the floor, you stared at them, your eyes alive with rage, “she just came at us for no reason. she’s crazy, man.”

“i’m not—”

“enough! all of you!” miguel’s voice was heavy with anger, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t send a shot of fear to pierce your chest, breaking through the bone.

“i don’t care what happened,” he spat, looking at you like you were dirt on his shoe, “you two,” he pointed at your attackers, “get out.”

without a word of complaint, they filtered out behind your petrifying boss, and his enraged eyes fell on you.

"you," he paused, stepping until his lofty stature towered you, "you're one of our best, and you're picking stupid fights?"

"you don't understand, they–" you tried, grasping desperately at your side.

"i don't care what happened," he repeated his earlier quip, "it's not happening again, got it?"

reluctantly, you nodded, and he could practically see the flames in your iris, it burnt you to give over.

"go home, y/n."

"miguel–" gwen tried to intervene, but miguel wasn't paying attention.

"go home."

sitting on your bathroom counter, you struggled with the first-aid kit, hands trembling in pain as you attempted to patch up the skin that sat split open on your cheekbone. frustrated, you slammed the bandages and compact mirror down on the hard surface, chest burning with annoyance.

spine fuzzing, you felt the empty space change in your apartment, the tingling of static air putting you on edge.

"darlin'? you in 'ere?" hobie's rich voice carried through the walls, and you sighed in relief.

"hobie?" the bathroom door creaked open and he was standing there, dark eyes taking in your wounded appearance.

"fucking 'ell," he muttered, booted feet taking him to you, calloused hands gentle against your cheeks.

"you should see the other guy," a half-hearted smile played at your lips and you were melting into him, your anger subsiding, "well, guys."

"i heard," his expression didn't change, but his eyes scanned your open wound, "gwen wanted me to tell you she thinks you're badass."

a chuckle resonated in your throat, and you immediately regretted it as the vibration shot a bullet of pain through your bruised ribs. that's what hobie's mood shifted, his brows furrowed in worry and lifting your chin to him.

"what 'appened, pretty?" he reached for the first-aid kit, pushing your legs open to step between them – he tended to your wound softly, "can you tell me?"

hesitation brung you to a halt and you bit your lip. you had fought over him, defending him when he couldn't, but part of you wasn't sure how he would react. he saw this, sensing the tension in your chest, and longed to catch a glimpse inside your mind.

"look, i can't 'ave my girl get done up and not tell me what 'appened," a flash of his teeth as he smiled, and you reflected this, a tired grin on your lips.

"it was just," you sighed, wincing as he pressed a cloth to your cut, "they were being so rude."

"about you, darlin'? good on ya, defending yourself," he muttered affirmingly, dabbing the blood away.

"about you."

he stopped then. your eyes darted across his face for any signs of a reaction, nerves building in your throat. seconds of silence followed, and the air between you both almost dissipated as the tension grew. hobie squashed it, though.

pulling your face to his, he kissed you. lips warm with passion and respect, they melted together. hand falling to your waist, you were flush against him, the heat of his body overwhelming any of the pain pulsing in your skin. relief washed over you instantly. stress from the day just withering away at the power of his adoration.

breaking the kiss, hobie rested his forehead against yours, both chests heaving in tandem.

"you didn't 'ave to do that, darlin'," he muttered, and his brain was so conflicted. whilst his heart raced at the thought of you putting yourself in harms way to defend him, he felt guilty at how much pain it put you in to do so.

"you know i'd do anything for you, hobie." and his heart settled at that statement, nuzzling itself in the all-encompassing feeling of love overcoming him.

not feeling the need to do anything else, he kissed you again, this time with such a force you leaned back under the weight of him, shoulders pressed into the mirror. he was gripping your thighs, as to not tamper with the swelling bruise on your hip, and you succumbed to your boyfriend, lost in his touch, pouting when he pulled away.

"miguel's well pissed at you, by the way," he chuckled, cheeks flushed, massaging the skin of your thigh.

"i'm surprised it didn't happen earlier," you giggled, not excited to return to hq and see him again when needed.

placing a trail of kisses from your forehead to your lips, hobie's eyes softened.

"so proud of you, pretty."

[shelbgrey]

Hey, hoping to not disturb but I have a request for you :) a Benedict Bridgerton x reader

And reader is insecure of her body, for have maybe too much chest or maybe because of the acne in her face, and maybe he can comfort her in some way.

I thank you in anticipation <3 I’ll probably stay anonymous in this request, because of feeling too insecure, and maybe comment when you’ll post it

Hope you have a great day!!🫶🏻🌸

Beautiful (Benedict Bridgerton)

Paring: Benedict Bridgerton x Wife!Reader

Summary: even at her lowest Benedict thinks she's the most beautiful person in the world and only wishes she sees herself the way he does. As much as she looks beautiful in the masquerade mask he hates it because it hides the natural beauty her face holds.

MasterList ML2

It was the masquerade ball of the season. It was always the most overwhelming because the planning was overwhelming and exciting for Benedict's mother Violet Bridgerton. But since she was the hostess to the ball all her children and their spouses were expected there.

Benedict nor his wife were getting out of tonight, neither were his brothers and their wives. Benedict had only gotten halfway ready, slaking and getting a few drinks in with Colin and Anthony. Benedict knew the consequences he'd face from both his mother and wife if he showed up drunk, so he finished his 2nd drink and went off to find his wife before the ball started.

Y/n stood in front of the mirror in their bedroom. She let out a sigh, not feeling like herself tonight. She requested the staff to get ready alone tonight, telling them she simply wanted some peace and quiet. Truly she just didn't want them to see her body, she hasn't felt beautiful as of late. Y/n have always had some extra curves to her body and for a long time it didn't bother her, Benedict made y/n feel beautiful, but lately she felt like her chest was getting bigger in an unattractive way.

She fiddled with her navy blue gown. It was her favorite one and it always made her feel good, but it didn't matter how many times she adjusted it or did a few turns, it just wasn't helping the insecurities that were growing in her heart.

The door knob of the bedroom turned and Benedict walked in and smiled at the view of his wife. However, it didn't take him long to realize something was off with her. The way she was looking in the mirror. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, placing his lips against the skin of her neck and giving her a small kisses

“Something on your mind, love?”

Y/n felt her heart pounding against her chest, she loved the comfort of his arms truly she did, but the idea of him wrapping his arms around her waist right now made her feel nervous. Y/n didn't want him to notice the way her body felt right now.

“I just don't feel like myself tonight” y/n said softly. Her thumb gently ran across her lip, fixing the lipstick she talked herself into wearing. She studied her face again, seeing nothing but the few spots of acne on her chin and a couple on her cheek bone.

Benedict could tell she was struggling with something. He was also certain it had to do more with how she looked and the way she was examining herself through the mirror. He knew y/n felt insecure. Even when he would tell her how beautiful she looked, he could tell she didn't feel it. He let out a small sigh while tightening his arms around her waist.

“You look flawless, my love” he said, gently kissing her neck.

“Thank you darling,” she said softly. “but I just don't feel like hearing that right now”

Benedict stopped trailing his lips down her neck, but kept his arms around her waist. He was trying to think what he could say or do to try to help her feel better. He was still looking through the mirror at her reflection, noticing she had her eyes glued more to analyzing her physical appearance than anything else. “What would you like to hear then?” he asked gently, his eyes flickering to hers through the mirror.

“You don't have to say anything, my dear” she said softly, looking into his eyes through the mirror.

Benedict's eyes were filled with concern. He could see her looking at herself but not looking at all. She was picking out every imperfection in her appearance. It was something she did but it was particularly strong tonight. He turned her around so her back was facing the mirror and he was standing in front of her. He put his hands on her hips, squeezing them softly in his hands. “Can you just look at me for a moment, love?” she did as he said and looked up

Benedict studied her whole face. Her eyes were the most gorgeous things about her, at least to him. However, he noticed they seemed dull. He hated seeing no sparkle in her eyes. He brought a hand up to gently caress her cheek in his palm.

“Please tell me what's wrong. It's more than just not feeling like yourself. I know you. I can see that you're picking out every little flaw in your appearance right now, aren't you?”

All she could think to say is, “I'm sorry”

Benedict gave her a small, reassuring smile. He continued caressing her face and moved his other hand to hold her waist. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I just want to know what's going on in that head of yours right now, my love”

“I just don't like the way my body looks in any of my dresses... And the blemishes are popping back up on my face. I just, I just don't feel good when I look in the mirror lately” she admitted softly.

Benedict moved a thumb over to her chin and traced it softly. “Your body is gorgeous, darling. And you know my opinion on the dress you're wearing right now. As for the blemishes, they don't change a single thing. They are not more noticeable than your beautiful face, love. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you”

“What could you possibly see?” y/n asked softly.

Benedict brought a hand to her chin and lifted it up slightly. He stared her straight in the eyes and a very serious look filled his face. “Y/n, I don't understand how you can't see how breathtakingly beautiful you are. You're perfect to me in every way. The way the dress hugs you, your curves, the way your hair falls around your frame, the color of your eyes, lips, the tiny smattering of freckles. I see nothing but beauty in you when I look at you”

His words made her heart skip a beat. Y/n stared into his eyes with so much vulnerability. She couldn't ignore the way he made her feel, he always made her feel beautiful and loved. But at the same time that little demon in her mind wouldn't shut up, speaking words more powerful and more hateful.

Benedict continued to hold eye contact with her, silently begging her to listen to him. He wanted more than anything to be able to help her see herself the way he saw her. He could see the hurt in her eyes.

“Please believe me, love. I'm not just saying that because I'm your husband. I love you. Everything about you, completely. Can you just trust me?”

“I trust you, ” she said softly. “I've always trusted you”

He continued to look into those eyes, still holding her chin in his hand. The look in her eyes still gave away the vulnerable state she was in. He brought his other hand to her chin and gently held her face in his hands before leaning down and brushing his lips against hers in a soft, gentle kiss. He was trying to convey all the beauty he saw in her through this kiss.

When she needed to breathe, she pulled away and looked into his eyes and placed her hand on his jaw. “can we just forget about this? We have to be down in the ballroom soon” she said softly.

Benedict sighed softly as he looked down at her, seeing that she was trying to change the subject from her looks. “You don't have to pretend with me, love. But if you want to drop it, I will. For now. We have to get downstairs”

“I'm not pretending, Benny. I just don't want to talk about it right now” y/n kissed him on the cheek, trying to prove she was alright.

The one thing she felt thankful for about tonight were the masks. Violet loved throwing the masquerade ball and y/n looked forward to it every year, the beautiful masks, the music, everything. It just seemed so different and unique compared to the usual dances. But this year y/n was just thankful to hide the face that was truly beautiful.

There were two navy masquerade masks, one for y/n and one for Benedict. She grabbed the more feminine looking one, it truly was beautiful. Navy with black lace framing the eye holes and little white jewels lined the mask. “Will you help me, please?”

She held it to her face and gave Benedict the ribbons so he could tie it in the back.

Benedict wasn't buying her 'I'm fine' act, but went along with it anyway. He knew she needed to focus on something else right now because she was too focused on all the 'flaws' she saw in herself. “Of course, love. Turn around” he said as he positioned himself behind her and tied in the ribbons for the mask on her.

“Thank you, my love” y/n stood up on her toes and kissed his jaw, making Benedict's heart skip a beat. He smirked from behind her and fixed the mask so that it was perfectly in place. “You look simply ravishing, Darling” he said, his eyes moving from her face down to the rest of her body. He wanted nothing more than to take that dress off her and make her understand what he found completely, utterly beautiful.

“You're so handsome” y/n smiled up at him. Just because she didn't feel beautiful doesn't mean she ever wanted Benedict to feel low about the way he looks.

The corners of his mouth curled upwards at her compliment. He smirked down at her. His hands had found her hips once again and they slid up along her sides as he spoke. “You know, if you and I weren't expected in the ballroom right now, I'd be taking that dress off your body and showing you what I find beautiful about you, love”

“But we don't have time for that” she sighed and handed him his mask. It matched her’s, the same color except it didn't have all the lace and it had a more masculine shape to it and black designs around the eye holes.

“Sometimes I hate these bloody events and how much time they take up” Benedict sighed, taking the mask.

Part of y/n was grateful they had to be down stairs for the ball. As amazing as sex is with Benedict, she just didn't have the security or the confidence to show her bare body to him at the moment, no matter if they were married or not.

“It's only for a few hours, don't want to disappoint your mother and not show up”

Benedict took notice of how tightly she was linking her arm around his. He could tell how insecure she was feeling about her looks at the moment. Part of him understood, but another part of him was getting annoyed that she didn't see what he did. He was used to her being strong and confident at these events. This vulnerability was driving him crazy right now. “Of course we can't disappoint mother. If we miss her ball she'll have our heads on a stake”

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

The pair made their way into the ballroom and found themselves amongst other families. There was chatter from all around them as women compliment other women and the men mingled amongst themselves.

He turned his head down to his wife. “You sure you're going to be alright for a couple of hours, love?”

“I'll be okay, my love” y/n exhaled.

Benedict continued to look at her. He could see the uncertainty even through her mask. His hands found her hips again. His thumb rubbed softly along her skin. “I'm serious, darling. If you want to leave for any reason, say the word and I'll get us out of here. I don't want you to be miserable the whole night”

“Benedict, I'll be fine... Let's just go dance”

Benedict stared at her through his mask, not believing her for a moment, but he reluctantly nodded slowly. “As you wish, my love”

He led her out towards the dance floor. They were surrounded by guests already couples and dancing. He put his hands on her waist to hold her close and began swaying with her.

Benedict held her close as they moved slowly around the dance floor. He continued to gaze into her eyes through the mask. He wanted to reassure her. He knew her mind was still elsewhere. He decided to try a different tactic and brought his lips to her ear and whispered in that low voice of his that sent shivers down her spine.

“You look absolutely ravishing in this dress, darling”

“and you look devilishly handsome in this suit” y/n said softly.

Benedict chuckled softly and brought his eyes back down to stare down into hers. He pulled her body a bit closer to his. The look on his face was completely serious. He wanted her to listen to him this time and trust that he wasn't just saying it just to say it.

“I mean it, my love. You look so damn beautiful. I wish you could see what I see. See how the dress fits you perfectly. It's been driving me crazy ever since you put it on”

Y/n smiled softly as they continued to dance. It was a dance they've done a thousand times, each move was almost instinct or robotic. Their bodies were completely in sync while dancing. The way they moved around the dance floor was smooth and easy. Every movement seemed as natural as breathing. He watched her twirl around and then spin back to his body. His hands automatically had gone back to her waist and he pulled her body against his. It was as if she fit perfectly against him. His hand slid up along her spine while continuing to sway with her.

Y/n tried to concentrate on the moment she was sharing with her husband, but she felt like everyone was watching them and not in a good way. Y/n knew they indeed fit well together, but every time his hands touched her waist or thighs they just felt too large against his hands.

Benedict could tell that she wasn't fully focused on him, although she was trying to be.He lowered his head down to her ear again. “Your mind is wandering, love”

“I'm sorry, Darling” is all she could think of to say.

His eyes were unwavering while he continued to stare into hers. He knew she was nervous and insecure. The way she was avoiding eye contact with him proved it. He took her chin and tilted her head up so that her eyes met his. He kept his hand there to hold her head in place so that she couldn't look away. “Stop apologizing for no reason, love. You have nothing to be sorry for. Now look at me”

She looked up at him, staring into his eyes through the mask. Benedict's hand reached to cupped her chin. His body was still moving to the music, but in much more of a gentle slow moving sort of way now. His eyes were as intense as ever.

He took a deep breath. “Do you want to leave and go to our room?”

“yes”

Benedict didn't hesitate to take hold of her hand and start guiding her out of the ballroom. He didn't give a damn about the guests and any rumors that might be spread. All he was focused on right now was her. He led them quickly out into the hallway and didn't let go of her hand as he started moving them towards their room.

*Benedict's mind was set on a single focus: reassuring her and getting her to see how beautiful he saw her. The walk down the hallway seemed longer than usual, but that was only because he was silently willing himself to get her to their room quick enough.

Once they reached the door, Benedict pushed through and let her inside before entering himself. He shut the door behind them once they were both in and immediately turned around and locked the door. He wanted no disturbances for the rest of the night.

Y/n sighed, pulling the Mask off and throwing it on to the vanity. She covered my face. “I'm being ridiculous... I'm sorry about tonight”

Benedict immediately went to her and gently grabbed her wrists, gently pulling her hands away from her face.He was silent for a moment and just looked into her eyes while holding her wrists in his hands. “Stop. Stop saying that you're sorry, love. Tonight was not ridiculous. In fact, I want you to listen to me. Okay?”

Her cheeks went red from embarrassment but I still looked up at him, mumbling a small, “Y-yes”

He noticed the rosy tint on her cheeks and his heart skipped a little at the sight. He didn't want her embarrassed. He wanted her to understand.

“come here” He gently led her so she was standing in front of the full length mirror in their bedroom. He stood behind her, making her look at their reflections.

He wrapped his hands around her stomach and pulled her against his body. So that her back was against his chest and they were both watching their reflections in the mirror. He bent down and brought his lips to her ear and whispered softly.

“Look at yourself, love. Look at how you look in this dress.You said you didn't feel beautiful tonight. But that's not what I see, darling. When I look at you I see nothing but beauty staring back at me”

Y/n blushed, turning her head away from the mirror and nuzzled into his neck. He didn't allow her to turn away. He moved his hands from her stomach and brought them up to her waist instead and held her firmly against him. He continued to speak gently into her ear, trying to get her to look back at the mirror again.

“No, look darling. Look at how beautiful you are. You need to see what I see” He said softly then reached for the zipper of her dress as he stood behind her.

“Benny? What are you doing?” she asked softly.

He still had his arms around her while his fingers gently unzipped her dress. He continued to gently whisper into her ear while he started to slide the dress off her body, making sure to kiss her shoulder as he did so.

“I'm showing you what I see, my love. I'm going to make sure you know how much I find you absolutely stunning right now”

Y/n shivered when the cold air nipped her skin. She didn't like what she saw in the mirror, standing there in just her corset and underwear. Y/n’s cheeks went red when she saw how large her chest and stomach looked in the corset and she noticed every mark on her shoulders and the top of her breasts.

Benedict was staring intently at their reflection in the mirror. He wasn't focusing on her body in the way that she saw it. His eyes were more focused on her face. He saw how hard she was judging herself and it was killing him that she didn't see how he saw her. He let his fingers run across the lace of the corset she was wearing on her hips.

“Do you trust me, beautiful?”

“I trust you,” she said softly.

Benedict continued staring at her through the mirror as his hands continued to slide along the curves of her body. He was still watching the expressions change on her face from the way she was looking at herself in the mirror. “Do you trust me to show you how I see you, love? Do you trust me to show you that you are absolutely perfect in every single way?”

Y/n nodded, making Benedict smile. He leaned down and left a soft kiss on her shoulder. He let his hands move across to the laces of her corset. He began to loosen them up. His eyes moved up to her face in the mirror again. “I'm going to ask you to do something, love. Can you do something for me, my darling?”

“What is it?” she asked softly.

Benedict continued to slowly undo the laces on the corset. “When I take this off I want you to look in the mirror. I want you to look at yourself. and think about what I'm telling you. Can you do that?”

Y/n hesitated. “I'll try,” she spoke honestly.

He continued to move the laces of the corset around her waist, loosening them as he spoke softly to her

“That's all I'm asking, darling. I don't want you to judge yourself for a while. I just want you to listen to me and how I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world” Finally, with the last lace undone, he began pulling the corset off her body slowly.

Y/n didn't know what to say, she just stared into the mirror. Looking at her breasts, they had a couple of acne spots and freckles. Her eyes looked down and saw her curves and stomach.

He placed his hands on her bare hips, his fingertips gently touching her skin while staring at their reflection. He wasn't focusing on the 'imperfections' she saw. The blemishes that she felt made her less. To him, all he saw was love. “See how your body curves? Look how beautiful your body looks”

Y/n didn't respond so he continued to look at their reflection, his hands still holding onto her hips as he pressed her back against his body. He could see that she wasn't seeing what he was seeing. He continued to speak in a comforting voice.

“Those blemishes are not imperfections, my love.Those are the marks of the most stunning woman in the world. My stunning woman”

Benedict hated that all she could do was smile sadly. He wanted her to smile because she was happy. He wanted her to be proud of her body. The way she was still looking at herself in a critical way was driving him crazy. He wanted her to see herself through his eyes.

“Darling, don't you see it? The way your hips create the most perfect curve? I'm completely obsessed with you, love”

Y/n finally cracked a slight smile, her cheeks going red. “thank you” she said just above a whisper.

He saw the smile on her face and smiled to himself. He began tracing the line of her hip with his hands, gently moving along the skin.

“Do you believe me, darling? I'm not saying these things just to be nice. I'm completely and utterly in love with you. With every. part. of. you”

“I believe you” y/n said softly.

Benedict smiled and started moving her, so that she was now facing him. He bent his head down to capture her lips in a kiss. This time, the kiss was gentle but intense, showing all the passion and love he was feeling for her. He continued to kiss her for a few minutes, his hands tracing her body the entire time.

She felt better, not completely but she couldn't help but feel beautiful when she was with Benedict. They both knew this was just a small bulb they would safely climb across. She was beautiful inside and out and Benedict planned on showing her that till the day they die.

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 11 - Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none really... a little bit of kissing interruptus.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is a slightly transitional chapter after the seismic events in Chapter 10. Our couple have no regrets but cannot get time alone as our intrepid trio journeys to Aubrey Hall. Yes, here beginnith our latest trope: secret relationship! Thanks as always to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Portsmouth, UK, September 1939

Waking up in Benedict’s arms for a second time is a thoroughly different experience, a handsome smile creasing his face.

“Good morning,” he rumbles, and you feel it buzz in your cheekbone resting on his pectoral.

“Good morning,” you whisper, tilting to kiss his lips.

You want to burrow into his warmth, his naked body, curl around him like a vine. Forget the world; just exist with him here in this warm cocoon. His hand slides up your back, pulling you snugger into him as you kiss - languid, sensual, tongues touching, a stirring you can feel between your legs and in him where your thigh is draped over his lap.

Just as you are about to get lost in this, in him, there is a rapid-fire knocking on the door.

“Wakey, wakey, lazy bones! Let me in!” Eloise’s voice calls, muffled in the corridor outside.

You both swing your heads towards the door, then back to each other in almost comic unison, jumping apart as if burned, exchanging panicked looks as you scurry out of bed.

“Give me a minute,” Benedict grouses loudly for her benefit.

Then, there is a flurry of hushed movement as you fling open suitcases and rapidly throw on the nearest clothing. ‘Bed!’ you mouth, signalling for him to help. You work together in unison to make the bed, not to the point it doesn't look slept in, but certainly not the tangle of sheets from tumultuous lovemaking that it was. Belatedly, you realise you should have put a makeshift pile on the floor as if he slept there.

It's less than a minute from when you were naked in each other’s arms to Benedict opening the door to Eloise, you on the other side of the room attempting nonchalance. She wanders in, looking blissed out but also a little worse for wear, an apparent hangover clinging to her edges as she retrieves a hairbrush from her suitcase. You want to ask how her night was, but her frown stops you. 

“Doesn’t look like anyone slept on the floor…” she comments suspiciously as she pulls up to the mirror. 

“I am, in fact, capable of tidying away blankets and pillows after I use them, sister,” Benedict sighs and rolls his eyes, looking out the window. “It is what I was doing when you so rudely woke up half the hotel, in fact,” he lies.

Eloise sticks her tongue out at him in the mirror, which he roundly ignores.

“Your brother is a true gentleman,” you defend, staying intentionally vague, standing behind her and using the mirror as well to touch up your appearance. 

It's your turn to receive the Eloise look of scornful derision before you steer to a new, safer topic. 

“So, how was your night with Phillip?” you tease affably.

“Oh, he’s wonderful,” a wistful look claiming her face. A secret little smile you have never seen before. “We had such a memorable night.”

“Aaaand I don’t need to hear this,” Benedict deadpans. “I’ll see you ladies downstairs for breakfast…” is his parting shot as he heads for the door. 

But as Eloise leans down to grab a hairpin, launching into a whole story, he winks at you in the reflection, and your heart skips a beat.

——

“So, ready to party your life away in London?” Eloise chirps as the train trundles through rural Hampshire a few hours later. “It's not Paris, but it will do….”

“I thought we were going to your country home?” you frown.

“Well, yes, for a few days. But we can head back up to Bridgerton House for the weekend,” Eloise grins. “Phillip might be in town by then….” You chuckle at her lack of subtlety. “And we can find you a nice man!” she adds.

There is a scrunch of a newspaper diagonally across from you as Benedict’s grip tightens on the broadsheet he is holding, his face wholly obscured behind it.

“Oh, I don't know..” you attempt to laugh it off. “I think I might give that whole party lifestyle a rest.”

“Nonsense! You are not really a married lady, you know,” Eloise withers, rolling her eyes. “And you can take that off now,” she nods to your ring finger.

“Oh…” you fumble, touching it instinctively, the soft lamplight within the compartment making the gold glint brightly. “I thought it safer to wear it while we are still in transit,” you bluff, knowing Benedict is paying full attention to your conversation now, even as he hides behind The Times.

She frowns. “You have your residency now. The British government will not bother tracking you down with this war effort. You could get divorced tomorrow, and literally, nothing would happen,” she opines imperiously as if suddenly an expert on immigration matters.

“Better safe than sorry, Eloise,” Benedict pipes up, folding down the paper and removing his reading glasses with that lecturing elder brother air. His ring catches the sunlight as he does, making something bloom in your ribs to see it.

Just as Eloise goes to dispute it, her face instead lights up from the passing trolley service. “Oooh, snacks!” she exclaims distractedly, craning to look out into the corridor, allowing you to smile your thanks softly at Benedict unseen. His responding lopsided smile has your stomach vaulting.

Then Eloise is on her feet, chasing the attendant that rumbled past your compartment, apparently keen for refreshments. As soon as she is out of sight, you reach a hand across to him. He leans forward and grasps it with both of his.

“We will have time alone at Aubrey Hall, I promise,” he whispers earnestly, his eyes imploring, bringing your hand to his lips and making you stutter as he brushes warm lips over the back of your fingers.

“I want to touch you, Benedict…” you confess ardently, “all the time. So very much…”

His face is a storm of bridled intensity at your words, his pupils dilating rapidly. “As do I….” his words impassioned, even as his expression clouds wincingly, and you know where his thoughts have slid.

“But, Eloise…” you nod, understanding, reluctantly withdrawing your hand and sitting back, a tingle still on your fingers from his lips.

There is no way either of you wants to raise what is happening or what has happened yet. Neither of you is sure of anything except this magnetic pull between you—yearning to be together, alone.

“Yes…” he sighs, pained, slumping back into his seat just as the lady in question twirls back in, hands full with Cadbury's bars and a Fry’s Peppermint Cream.

“I thought you hated Peppermint Cream?” Benedict frowns as Eloise hands you both a Cadbury and immediately unwraps the Fry’s bar for herself, taking a big bite.

“I may be reassessing its merits,” she sniffs before leaning in to whisper to you, muffled around her mouthful. “It’s Phillip's favourite,” she divulges before staring dreamily out the window.

You have never known Eloise to change her mind about anything in the time you have known her, especially not from a man’s opinion. You just shrug at Benedict, conveying your equal surprise. Clearly, this one might be a serious contender.

—

Walking the connecting overhead path to Waterloo Junction for your onward train to Kent, you are startled when Benedict grabs your hand and places it into his coat pocket. You soon realise in the glass reflection ahead that the swish of the open fabric means the connection of your hands is unseen. 

Your heart pounds in your ears as you walk beside Eloise, her none the wiser as your palms grip each other, fingers laced. When you glance up at him briefly, you see the ghost of a smile at the corner of his lips, but he keeps looking ahead as if nothing unusual is happening. 

You want to kiss the little dimple right there at his sheer genius.

—

The onward leg only takes an hour and is filled with amiable chat, mostly about books and films. Soon, you are alighting the train at a charming rural village stop, the platform ablaze with neatly potted late summer plants of reds and yellows.

But you are struck with a sudden wave of nerves as a sleek car awaits you. You are not long away from meeting the rest of the Bridgerton family. Strictly, your family now too.

“Does anyone know?” You ask Eloise as the driver loads your cases into the boot.

“Know what?”

“That Benedict and I are married…?” You spell out, surprised she didn’t follow your train of thought. 

“Oh. Well. I didn’t call or telegram,” she twists to look at Benedict as he places your day bag on top of his. “Did you tell mother?”

He scoffs. “God, no. Not something I could begin to explain over the phone.”

“So what do we say? Or do?” You ask, subconsciously toying with your ring.

Benedict walks over and places comforting hands on your shoulders. It takes all of your willpower not to lean into him. “Don't worry. Follow my lead. I don’t think we can or should lie.” 

Less than a minute into the car ride, you sandwiched between the siblings, Eloise’s eyes flutter closed, face lolling against the glass. You signal to Benedict, and when he twists to see, his hand grabs your kneecap, fingers wrapping around and caressing the ticklish skin near the crease at the back of your knee. Something about this stolen moment is exciting, elicit, and endlessly arousing.

“I cannot go more than an hour in your presence without wanting to touch you,” he whispers, leaning close, his words a hot gust into your ear that has you melting.

“Same,” you murmur back, your hand sliding over his, mapping the raised veins with your fingertips, memories of the last night tumbling through your mind, those strong hands running over your naked flesh, grasping. It makes your breath hitch audibly.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice is a honeyed rumble that makes every hair on your forearms stand on end. He probably knows, but you confirm it anyway.

“Last night…” you mouth, turning your face into him so his lips brush your cheek. His grip tightens, and his breath rags into your hair.

“It's all I have thought about since…” he confesses; your chest flutters as his hand slides a fraction higher on your leg, playing with your hem. Every fibre of your being is calling for him. You want him to keep going, slide all the way up your thighs and touch you… but Eloise stirs, and instantly, his touch is gone, and you are left bereft. 

—

To call Aubrey Hall a country house is ridiculous. Your jaw drops as the car sweeps up a long gravel driveway to an enormous, handsome pile of a manor estate.

“Oh my god, Eloise,” you smack her arm lightly. “How rich are you!?”

She laughs. “What, that my brother is a Viscount doesn't give that away?” she guffaws.

“Well, I thought maybe it was an honourary title or something…” you mutter, feeling slightly embarrassed you don't know the full ins and outs of the British aristocracy you have clearly married into, entirely without knowing.

“Don't be intimidated,” Benedict soothes. “We are just a large family who inherited a big pile. I promise we aren't stuffy or cold.” You want to squeeze his hand for being so empathetic and reassuring.

“Or inbred!” Eloise cackles as the car stops, and you notice a beautiful, elegant middle-aged woman waving from the steps.

“Our mother,” Benedict elucidates before Eloise throws the door open and jogs up to hug the lady, who looks overjoyed to be reunited with her daughter after months away. You can tell Eloise is happy, too, even if her joy is more understated.

Benedict is by your side when you are out of the vehicle. A pillar of support, even if not touching you.

“Mum…” Eloise pulls her down the steps. “This is y/n!”

“Oh, it's wonderful to meet you!” the lady greets, pulling you into a welcoming hug that smells lavender and lilac. “I have heard so much!”

“Same!” you chime back.

Then it is Benedict’s turn to hug her; you swear there is an extra glint in her eye as if he is her favourite. However, you notice he keeps his left hand in his pocket throughout.

“Thank you for bringing them back safe, darling,” she reaches up and pats his hair affectionately as if he is still a child, not a grown man in his late twenties.

“We would have made it home perfectly safe without him, mother,” Eloise gripes with her trademark mettle.

“Eloise Bridgerton, you would have absconded to Saint Tropez if your brother were not there. Don't even lie about that,” Violet chides lovingly, and you can't help but giggle.

“Don't take her side!” Elose decries.

“Come on, it's true,” you laugh, bumping her gently with your shoulder as you walk in through the doors.

It is a beautiful stately home, but at the same time, it seems less imposing on the inside; it looks lived in and loved. A house that is full of family and life.

“You will meet the rest of the family later today,” Violet advises. “Well, minus our brave Viscount, who is in London with Churchill, and Daphne, who lives with her husband.”

“And Fran,” Eloise adds.

“Yes, Francesca is staying with her cousins in Bath,” Violet counsels as she guides you into their parlour.

“She’s barely my sister,” Eloise jests, dropping onto a sofa and grabbing a glass of water from a carafe on the coffee table.

Violet just shoots her an exasperated look while offering you a seat, too. “Eloise told me you were engaged, not already married,” Violet addresses as you get comfortable.

Benedict springs from across the room. “Ahhh, about that….” he placates with his left hand aloft.

“Is that also a ring I see on your finger, Benedict Bridgerton?!” Violet splutters.

“Mother, I can explain….”

And thus, he recounts the events of the last few days. Violet listening intently, looking, in turn, shocked, dumbfounded and proud. Of course, Benedict omits the whole part of the fact you are together romantically. Well, sort of. You think. You are dying to be alone with him so you can talk. Or perhaps do other more exciting things. That idle thought makes your cheeks flush.

“I am so very grateful to your son, Viscountess Bridgerton,” you jump in as much as to steer your own wayward thoughts away from dangerous waters. “Without him, I would likely still be stuck in France, all alone.”

His eyes dance with warmth as you glance at him, wanting to grab his hand and lace your fingers. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Violet has the most intrigued look as she observes her son carefully—the all-knowing eye of a matriarch.

“Well, I am so grateful you are safe, my dear,” she turns to you. “And please, for goodness sake, call me Violet. You are welcome to remain with us as long as you need or desire. You are family now, after all. At least for as long as you wish to be considered such,” she concludes, seeming to choose her words very carefully.

“Thank you, Violet,” you murmur, so grateful, already feeling a warm glow from her hospitality. “I could not be more honoured to be here for as long as you will all have me,” your eyes drifting back to Benedict as you say it.

The tender look on his face makes you touch your wedding ring idly with your thumb, and your heart leaps as he does the same. Although you swear you can feel the weight of Violet’s stare as you do so.

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[cloudyskydreams]

Yooo I really like that pregnancy ask and I wanted to suggest a what if! Pure angst and drama if you're up to it.

What if the pregnancy didn't go well near the end because S/O's magic is not very high (to begin with! monsters need both parents iirc to have a health about of magic to make a monster.) A couple of days after the baby bone is born, child protective services (the Canadian version of it.) have to take them to their father stating that the mother is in a coma and is unlikely to recover.

((What a way to start the day. Getting a knock on the door only to find a stranger hold a baby that they were so sure it wasn't theirs. AND their s/o is probably going to die because their SOUL magic was sucked up dry to make the baby. Said baby bones looks a bit unhealthy too because they developed without their pappa's magic and is weakly crying.))

((You can decide of s/o recovers or not.))

hhhhhh you guys need to be movie directors or something because the pure plot and drama being thrown at me recently.

S/O recovers because I like that route better having a free reign relationship with your child only to have the possibility of that taken away when your comatosed ex wakes up.

Holy fuck these turned out longer than I expected so I'm just doing 3 if you wanted a different character feel free to request again! Also the holidays are NOT being kind to me so my updates are probably gonna be wack as I deal with the shitshow I call a family hope you guys enjoy and happy holidays!

Undertale:

Sans: Sees the baby bones and kind of zones out as shock runs through his body. Then he hears the word coma and zones back in. "what?" he has them repeat their entire spiel and his soul stops for a second when he hears what happened. He hesitantly accepts the babybones and cradles him to his chest gently.He's not ready for any of this and his world is collapsing around him as he finishes the conversation with CPS. Once they're gone he takes the babybones inside and simply stares at him for a bit as he rocks him back in forth Infront of the door he hasn't moved two steps from. The baby is whining and looking at him is like looking at an exact replica of himself as a babybones. He takes a few deep breaths and chuckles which turn into a full body laugh which turn into sobs as he cradles the baby to his chest. Why didnt he trust you? He still loved you even though he was convinced you had cheated a part of him desperately hoping he was wrong but now that he knows he was it's devastating. He looks for monster food that would be suitable for a babybones hoping to soothe his cry's and get his bones looking healthier. The entire time he's shaking as he rummages through the cabinets. Finds something akin to applesauce and spoonfeeds the little guy. Goes out and picks up a bunch of stuff (good, toys,clothes ect.)when Papyrus gets home. The first night he can't sleep and simply stays awake watching the babybones all night. He vows he's going to be the best dad ever while staring at his baby boys sleeping face a rush of paternal protectiveness rushing over him. He does a good job at taking care of the baby as he has experience since he had to basically raise Papyrus. He visits you once and the guilt destroys him so badly he can't visit you again. It had been a few months when he received a call. Surprise surprise it's you on the other end having just woken up and wanting to see your child immediately. Sans is more than happy to comply and gets to the hospital as soon as he can with the baby who's looking much healthier. Hesitates outside the doorway as he cradles your guys son to his chest. Possibilities and what ifs running through his head as anxiety starts to simmer. When he enters the room you look so relieved and happy to see him which happily surprises him till he realizes you're probably excited to see your baby. He hands the child over and suddenly your crying, the baby's crying, he's crying, all of y'all crying. He apologizes profusely before you can say anything and says he should have believed you how wrong he was and how sorry he is you had to go through everything alone and his grateful he is to see you again. He understands if you don't forgive him but don't expect to be rid of him because he's absolutely sticking around in his son's life.

Edge:Honestly when he sees the child and hears what CPS has to say he thinks he's having a nightmare. He's dreamt of similar situations where your baby actually turned out to be his nothing quiet like this but it's similar enough he's really thinking he's still asleep. Takes the child and thanks the CPS people for their time before going back inside. Trys to soothe the baby's cry's and rocks him gently in his arms. Checks the clock to make sure he has enough time to get to his next appointment in the day and yeah he's got a good bit, wait.... you can't read time in your dreams. He looks back at the clock and gently sets the baby down on the couch as he does the equivalent of pinching himself. Fuck fuck wait he's not dreaming. A flood of cold numbers rushes over him as he remembers what CPS said... He gently scoops the baby back up and shelves his oncoming mental breakdown as he stares down at his son. When Red gets home Edge recruits him as a babysitter (his thought process being he raised me he can watch a baby for an hour or so (red was absolutely stressed tf out))as he runs out to grab supplies and sort himself out. By sort himself out I mean destroying a chunk of a forest with his magic to workout all his anger and devastation. He trys his best to take care of the babybones his brother surprisingly giving good advice every now and then while he figures out how to be a dad. He's extremely gentle with the child and speaks on the most soothing fatherly tone to the little baby. He visits you in the hospitals bi weekly leaving little messages of memorable moments with the baby and some pictures. A few months goes by and one day he receives a call. It's a very frantic you on the other end and he can't help the immense amount of relief he feels as he hears your voice begging him to see your child. He brings the babybones to the hospital and stays quiet as he watches you two cuddling. He doesn't speak up until you thank him for watching the babybones. Tells you there's nothing to thank him for he was doing his job as a father and then it's quiet for a bit more before he hesitantly approaches and bows his head. He apologizes for his actions, for not trusting you, for everything you had to deal with alone. He's not expecting you to forgive him he wouldn't forgive himself but he does want to be apart of the child's life and immediately says so making sure you're aware of his intentions. Most likely to take you to court for custody of you refuse to let him father his child.

Stretch:Was woken up by the knock and answered the door still half asleep. Hears the story, takes the kid, thanks them and closes the door. It takes him like five whole minutes until he's like wait what the fuck. Holds the baby Infront of him by the armpits and looks at his mini lookalike with horror. Holy fucking shit he was wrong? He's a dad?? YOU'RE IN A COMA?? He gets lightheaded for a second and sits down on the couch with the crying baby in his arms. He hesitantly rocks the babybones not really sure what he's doing and immediately calls Blue. He's shaking as he's on the phone with his brother who says he's on the way. When Blue gets there he shows Stretch which foods the baby can eat and how to care for it. Stretch appreciates the help and kind of throws himself into caring for the child instead of thinking about the fact you're in a coma. He's sleeping on a beanbag chair in the nursery and wakes up as soon as the baby starts crying. Every waking moment is spent caring and playing with the babybones. Sometimes late at night he thinks about you and everything he's lost and missed out on but you've given him the best gift he could have ever asked for, a son. He visits you in the hospital occasionally leaving your favorite flower and pictures of the baby he's taken. Surprise surprise a month later when he gets a call and you're alive desperate to see you're baby. He brings the child and is grateful to see you awake when he hands him over. He immediately apologizes he tells you how wonderful his son is and how much he loves him and begs you to let him be apart of the child's life. He understands if you don't want him back as much as he misses you he fucked up he wasn't there and you almost died because he wasn't. He just loves his kid man he will be there for him and you if you let him.

[mentos-or-mentoes]

My God, just recently I watched Hotel Hazbin, and it just amazed me! Especially Cannibaltown and its inhabitants, they are all so cute, aristocratic and at the same time deadly!

So based on this I came up with an idea.

What if we take the Reader, who is also the leader of a small settlement of cannibals isolated from everyone, who are followers of the red crown, who miraculously managed to survive and hide, isolating all the settlements from everyone and waiting for the prophecy and the lamb to happen, which will free “the one who waits.”

It would be very interesting to see how the already defeated five bishops who are in the cult of the lamb accidentally stumble upon a settlement where Narinder’s followers still live, who eat the flesh of "heretics" and those who want to completely destroy Narinder's legacy. At the same time, they still continue to remain like one big friendly family, with their own manners and friendly character)

(I apologize in advance, because English is not my native language, but I hope I conveyed the essence correctly)

This wont be headcanons. mainly because i don't know exactly how i'm supposed to write this as headcanons. But i hope you enjoy!

I havent watched Hazbin Hotel yet, but i will try my best to make something somewhat like you asked.

Cult of the lamb ex-Bisops + Narinder / TOWW x Reader who is a Cannibal leader.

(this will be with the bishops in follower form).

Narinder / TOWW

Narinder was out gathering some meat for the cult per the lambs request when he suddenly heard a sound from somewhere. It was loud, maybe a shout? A cry? He didn't pay much attention to it at first. But curiosity got the better of him. When he went to investigate the general area, all he could find was some red robes and the remains of a (newly dead) body. It had definetly been a planned attack, that much he was sure of. It was obvious looking at the robes, it didn't have as much as even a singular scratch on it.

Suddenly he heard a noise, Narinder got ready to fight but was met by a seemingly innocent, joyful smile as you, greeted him. You offered him shelter and food for the night and he accepted the kind offer, not wanting to stay out too late.

Upon arriving at the little cult, he was surprised. Everyone seemed to be running around, playing and just having a fun time overall. You didn't have much of anything, yet everyone seemed perfectly fine. Nobody was even remotely sick, or lacking in nutrition. This did make him slightly suspicious. You told him that you'd have to go take care of some ''buisness'', he didn't really care too much, but he did keep an eye on you to make sure you weren't scheeming anything. A bit later, you came back, soaked in blood, and a bone in hand, ruínging a bell. It was then you announced dinner was ready, as well as in a slightly saddend tone announcing that a dissenter who was especially troublesome had been taken care of.

Narinder immidietly put two and two together, and realized that the dissenter you were talking about, was now the meat in the bowl of stew sitting in front of him. He freaked out a little and questioned you about it, You calmy told him that it was how things were around the area, thoose who failed to follow the teachings of the red crown, would help the faithful, by giving them energy, and filling their tummies. You also informed him that, after having to hide as a result of his excile, that rescources were not easy to come by, so it was how things were, and that everyone was fine with it, even scrapping together some vegetables for thoose who'd prefer not to indulge in the cannibalism. Most did so there was enough for a good bit of vegetable stew for him and a couple other followers who simply were too disturbed by the concept but didn't want to leave the cult.

Narinder couldn't help but feel as if he was falling for you, a tiny bit. A sweet, kind leader who wasn't afraid to do what had to be done. Fufilling your own needs first, but making sure everyone felt comfortable after your needs were met.

Narinder would start visiting your little cult whenever he was snet out to get anything for the cult. and if you were up for it, he would be more then willing to ask the lamb, if your cults could kind of join together, your cult taking care of the dissenters who'd keep dissenting no matter what. He'd one day confess his love for you while you two were enjoying the guts of an outsider who had tried to harm your followers, It was a bit akward, but you just gave him a quick kiss, and if you decided to pet him then he'd practically melt into your touch.

Heket

Heket had thought that all cults worshipping the red crown other then that god forsaken lambs cult had died out. She had done so much to try and stop it, yet it seemed near inevitable.

She knew Anura the best so, naturally she took almost every opprotunity to go there, mainly to get away from the cult. One day she had heard a noise comming from a bush. Not afraid to fight, she got ready to take on whatever would jump out at her, After a bit nothing happend. She stopped for a second wondering what it was, before continuing to walk. Suddenly, she heard a soft, quiet, humming. It sounded nice, Heket went to investigate the sound to find you minding your own buisness. She knew something was off, she could tell very easily, but she couldn't quite put a finger on it. You introduced yourself to her, showing her around your cult, and talking about the history behind it

She was just taking a walk in Anura, gathering some mushrooms for the cult, when she saw you. Her whole view of you changed that day. As you were cleaning out the blood from the intenstine of a follower, whilst another of your cult members were chopping up the flesh, and another was boiling the sausages that had been stuffed with meat, and twisted to make hotdogs. You asked your friend if she was hungry and offered her a sausage. She accepted and then the little ''secret'' you had was out.

Heket was definetly amused at how your cult was. Everyone knew eachother and cared for one another like family, yet, every time you made your followers eat the flesh of the people they once knew, they seemed to only get more faithful. You even had options for thoose who didn't want to. Truly a place for everyone. upon revisiting the cult she asked you about it, and you told her that, after worshipping the red crown was forsaken, you and your followers had to go into hiding. And therefore you had to do all things nessecary to survive. If one member was caught, then surely everyone would be dead. so scavaging for plants, seeds and other things like that was out of the question, instead having to settle for whatever was available. Thats when you told her of how, thoose who dissented too much would either end up having to rot in a cell somewhere or you and the rest of your cult could get some use out of them, via cannibalising them.

She didn't really think much of it (She probably ate a couple of dissenters too back when she was a bishop herself). You treated thoose who had passed, and thoose who had been faithful with respect. promising to give them a proper passing, and not eating their remains, no matter how desperate things got. One day while at the cult you were even serving up a follower who had tried to sneak into the catacombs to try and take the meat from a passed elder. You of course didn't tolorate that in the slightest bit.

The day she asked you out, she had planned to cook a meal for the two of you, to eat alone. You seemed to read her open as a book because the second you two were alone, you gave a quick little kiss on the cheek, and confessed your love for her, right then and there.

Leshy

It was a cold, stormy night. And out on a journey to find his eye, Leshy was slithering around. When suddenly he tripped over something. He was met with somewhat of an embrace, rather then the cold dirt, as you greeted him. Offering to help him around, and to help him try to find his missing eye. You took him back to your cult, where everyone gave him a warm welcome, You gave him some soup. Leshy however, having a very good smelling sense to make up for his lack of vision, could immidietly smell that something was off. You, knowing that he couldn't see and wanting to try and calm him down fro, thinking you were trying to poison him, just told him that it was the meat of a worm follower who had recently started to dissent alot. On one hand it calmed him down a bit, that he wasn't being poisoned. On the other hand, it freaked him out even more how casually you just talked about turning a person into soup.

You told Leshy that, nobody would hurt him, and that you'd make sure of it. Your calm energy, and words of comfort definetly helped him out. The kindness of your followers towards him despite what he did, made him feel welcome

when he asked exactly who you and your cult was worshipping, he got surprised at the fact that you also worshipped the red crown. Not that it wasn't a possibility, but most people who had worshippec the red crown had been found, then put to the blade. He himself witnessed almost every single of its followers die infront of him. To think that you and this cult of atleast 60 people had hidden that well from him, and his siblings, just surprised him.

His amasement at how you handled, well, everything! You almost managed your cult better then he did when he was a bishop. You made sure everyone was comfortable, And that no boundaries were overstepped, as long as the followers of the cult were to be faithful, and respectful towards others. Your willingness to help others, both inside and outside of your cult, as long as your, and your followers needs were met, definetly lead to him developing some feelings towards you.

He'd start visiting more often, especially after getting his eye back, You'd make sure to avoid having him around especially gory sacrifices or executions, if we didn't want to see them.

Leshy would one day just, go up to you, kiss you, then wait to see how you'd react. When you kissed him back, immidietly followed up by a hug, was definetly one of the happiest moments of his life.

Kallamar

Kallamar was just on a walk to calm himself down, when he saw you, he immidietly panicked. You just saw him, and casually waved with someones severed hand. His screams could be heard all throughout the old faith. He was practically unable to move, And he was terrified the second he realized, that you, were only getting closer. By the time you were close enough to actually talk to him, he was practically on his knees just begging you to not hurt him. You reckognized him as one of the four bishops that had tried to kill you and your followers back when Narinder was banished, Didn't stop you from trying to calm him down, and telling him that you weren't gonna be hurting him any time soon.

He was shocked that a cult like yours was still going, especially after everything he and his siblings had done to try and eradicate any evidence of the red crowns existence. Turns out, you and your followers had been living far back in the caves, worshipping the red crown the entire time. Knowing that the prophecy of the lamb, that would free your great leader, would one day be fufilled. You had basically managed to make a secret society, but with everyone being cannibalistic.

You were terrifying, yet, oddly comforting. You made Kallamar feel like he was in danger, yet safe at the same time. It seemed you had affected you followers in the same way, with them gladdly following your word, doing as you said happily, both in the fear for their lives, but also out of will. Everyone knew eachother down there, and it gave people less reason to dissent. Thoose who did, would lose their life, as well as make everyone around them have to lose someone close to them. It hurt you and everyone else, what you had to do for survival, but it was nessecary. They understood, and everytime food was getting low, many people would be willing to offer themselves up, for the sake of everyone else.

Kallamar would never confess his feelings to you, but you became an unofficial couple because, his crush was clear as day to everyone around him, including you. so you just started being romantic, and started dating, no confessions needed.

Shamura

Shamura didn't leave the cult too much, not without someone by their side atleast. They however do have a tendency to just, wander off to god knows where. It was on one of theese times, that they stumbled upon what they at first thought was the cult of the lamb, because of the robes. Upon seeing a bunch of new faces, they started to think otherwise. You however, were kind, and accepting of them stumbling upon your little settlement. Offering them something that could remind them of their days in power, Something akin to eating the dissenters of their cult, for power.

Shamura could immidietly tell, that something, was different, about the food they were being served. After asking you, they found out that an outsider had tried to attack some children, much to their mistake, so you simply took care of them, and served them up to preserve space. It made sense, as the area had not much if anything at all to grow crops at, so having to provide for a whole cult would be difficult without some other food source. You started talking about how, it had been a family tradition, that you had brought with you as a solution to providing food and taking care of dissenters in the cult, at the same time.

You decided to try and teach them a bit about how to use every bit of the body for different dishes, and what nutrition, the different body parts had. It was knowledge Shamura hadn't heard of before. but something they'd love to hear more about, learning every single bit there was to know about the body, and surviving in places with close to nothing.

Your cult being the only remaining that worshipped the crown before Naridners excile, meant you had lots of ''Forbidden'' knowledge. Almost anything related to death, or the afterlife was something anyone in the cult could talk about for hours on end, regardless of if it was an adult or one of the many children. You knew how to preach, and you did it startingly well.

Shamura could see your cult and the lambs, merging together, or yours potentially growing bigger. Your charisma, your soft, gentle voice, your aura, everything was just so, calm and caring about you. And to think that you were possibly one of the most brutal leaders out there when you wanted to be or needed to be, it was seomthing that they knew was the sign of a great leader.

They would bring some books and some tomes from their cult one day and ask if you wanted to read with them, you accepted, and you two spent the evening together, cuddling, and enjoying eachothers company.

[ms--lobotomy]

@liar-anubiass-blog hi! Tumblr has a habit of deleting the very ask I want to write for when it is its turn. Here's your Emps being a bit of a silly billy.

---

summary: you are a poor unfortunate immortal who the emperor happened to take an interest in before the whole imperium of man thing. have fun with that

word count: 1353

content warnings: a bit of gore, a bit of longing for death, a very yandere man (god?) thing, also this shit is TOXIC toxic so beware, also he uses female words so if youre not a girl just pretend he used masculine pronouns i guess

---

It all started when you were minding your own business, crossing the street sometime in the 3rd millenium. It was late at night, and you were walking alone to your car, parked a little ways away from your workplace. You started to cross the street. A car barrelled towards you, moving haphazardly through the street. You barely had time to turn your head before it collided with you, flattening your frail body. Bones cracked open, flesh fell apart and blood poured from every opening.

After the offending car had frantically drove away, you felt your bones moving back to where they should go and fresh blood oozing back into your form. Soon you were standing up right where you had been before you were struck, work uniform and all. You raised a hand to your cheek. The blood was inside, where it was supposed to be.

You never told a soul about the event. After all, who would believe you? But this was not the only thing you found strange. As you grew older, you never aged. It was a little strange around your 30s or 40s, but you knew something was up once you hit 50. Faking your death was challenging, but you somehow made it work, ready to start life in a new city.

And city to city you roamed, never staying in one place for too long. You began to hate, loathe this curse that had been put upon you. One part of humanity that everyone else had shared was no longer yours. You wanted to die, you wanted it to end when your time was up. But time marched on, and so did you.

You'd moved onto your next city, ready and resigned to this process you had carved out for yourself. Get some crummy job serving slop to people who sometimes yelled obscenities at you, find a place to rent for a little while, and hunker down and hope your secret would be safe.

But something was different about this city, you felt a pair of eyes on you no matter where you went. You weren't sure where they came from, but you now walked a little brisker and you certainly now slept a little less soundly. You requested, you begged to work at the back of the seedy restaurant you worked at, a request which was never granted. So you toiled away at the front, ever cautious to remain inconspicuous.

But all of that would be for naught in the end. You were once again walking home from work, complete with a disheveled uniform. He was a taller man who hadn't had to do much to keep up with your brisk place. He was adorned with long black hair, honey-brown eyes and golden skin. His voice was deep and commanding.

"I know what you are." He put a hand around the back of your neck, his index finger tapping it lightly.

You froze. He stopped walking next to you, looking down on you. "Hell of an opener," you said after a few moments of silence. "Ever introduce yourself?"

"You'll know who I am soon enough," he replied. He tightened his hand around the back of your neck. How tall was he? Maybe around seven or eight feet? "Keep quiet and follow me or I'll snap it."

You felt a lump form in your throat. You'd been very careful to keep your secret from the outside world. If your neck was snapped in broad daylight and you somehow came back from it, there would be no more secrets to keep.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

You walked through the busy streets, never meeting the gazes of the city folk. Some of them looked at their feet when you stared back at them, some of them kept looking. "What a lovely couple!" exclaimed an older lady before meandering past the two of you. You thought your feet were going to fall off before the strange man turned into a more suburban area of town. "Not too far left to go," he said, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk.

As soon as you felt you couldn't do it anymore, he led you up the steps of a beaten-down two-story house. His grip was tight enough that you couldn't even consider running away. With his free hand, he pulled a key out of his pocket and inserted it into the door. As he turned it, his hand trailed town towards your waist, grip tight as ever.

"Welcome to your new home," he smirked.

"My rent is due tomorrow," you remarked.

"You're not going to need it ever again," he said, pushing you into the house. This strange man had a maximalist aesthetic, little decorations were crammed into every corner of the place. He closed the door and led you through the halls, going slow to let you take in every little bit of it.

"So you're kidnapping me," you said flatly.

"That's a bit of an unkind way to put it, don't you think?" he asked. He pulled you close to him. You felt your heart beating in your chest. Not now, you thought.

"Think about it this way. You have a secret. A secret that I have as well. Don't you want to hide? Don't you want to slip under the radar?" he asked again. His hand slipped off of your waist and he knelt towards you, taking your hand in his.

"Do I know you?" you asked. You tried to pull away, but his grip was so tight it was bound to leave a nasty bruise.

"You may not know me, but I know you to your heart," he replied. "I've seen all that I need to see. You working long hours at that dead end job all but broke my heart. Those customers didn't see what I saw. I saw a beautiful individual stuck in a terrible existence. I saw you before me, living in fear. Don't you think you deserve to be freed from that existence?"

Your mouth hung slightly open. "You were the one following me," you said softly. "How did you have the time for that?" You pulled your hand away from his, and this time he relented.

"You can't explain the day you died and came back, can you?" he asked. "It's a little bit like that, don't you understand? I'm like you. I can help you. I can save you."

Your expression softened. "How?" you asked.

He stood up. He towered over you still, casting a shadow over you. "How about we head upstairs," he suggested, grabbing your arm and tugging you up the wooden stairs.

His bedroom was just as cluttered as his house was, if not more. There may have been around a dozen pillows on his bed, partially obscured by silky curtains. Light filtered through a window on the side of the room, illuminating books and statues and other little pieces of art.

"Where did you get all of this?" you asked. His hand trailed down your arm to meet your hand, engulfing it.

"I've lived a long time," he replied, leading you to the bed. He sat on it, pulling you onto his lap. "Longer than you have. Longer than you could comprehend." You could hear your heart beating in your chest again as he wrapped his arms around you. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, and you sat there for a moment, still. The curtains to the window fluttered slightly, the light made its way onto the both of you.

You weren't supposed to feel safe. You'd never seen this man before today, he all but kidnapped you. But you thought of your old life, hiding in nooks and crannies that the world couldn't find. Even if you would have to leave this area one day, you knew you weren't the only person afflicted with this curse.

You leaned back into his touch. You relaxed, going limp in his arms. He turned and planted a kiss on your exposed neck, just above where your collar ended.

"Good girl," he said.

[n0tamused]

Hiya

Please can I request some hurt/comfort with Kaveh, like maybe the reader gets injured. Also I saw on one of your posts a couple months ago you weren't secure with writing him, so if you still aren't I would mind Alhaitham or Ayato <3

A/n: Hello, I'm not sure where I was going with this honestly, I haven't written for Kaveh in what feels like a decade so I hope I didn't butcher him. However, I admittedly rushed a bit so I can get back to you with it and I do hope I was able to provide some comfort to you with this. Hope you enjoy🌙

Contents: Kaveh x reader, gn, hurt angst to fluff, sensitive reader? Imo... Drabble wordvomit

“Where have you been?! Do you know how worried I was about you-” the loudness his tone reached pulled the octaves of his voice higher, unlike the sweet lilt he usually addresses you with. Turning your head sharply to look at him through the thin veil of the dark night, your tear stained cheeks stun him for a good moment, making him choke back words and audibly he stutters and sputters as his eyes widen further. His eyes flicker over your face, across your features until he follows the bend of your arms that hold your leg and foot, both hastily wrapped in bandages - if the situation wasn't as dire as it was Kaveh would've scoffed and made fun of it. 

“Where were you-” he asks again, his voice swimming in fear as a chill runs up his spine despite the scalding desert air. More than one question is squeezed into those three words as he rushes over to kneel beside you. Cautious, airy hands hover over the ankle and the shin of your leg, but he refuses to touch you, as if you break from the simplest of touches. He looks up into your eyes again, silently pleading for a response to all the questions brewing in his mind. “What happened to you? Were you attacked? W-When did this happen? Do you not know how long I've been looking for you?!-”

Mehrak swoops into the sands, releasing a little sound that was both alarm and curiosity, the blinking green dots for eyes angled in your direction. Soft little beeps come from the suitcase looking machinery, yet you have little strength to pay any attention to it. 

“I-I’m fine..! I just sprained my ankle really badly while I was looking for you and.. I couldn’t walk properly, I thought I wouldn’t be able to make it back” you explain, a breath of ease filling your lungs as you paw at your eyes with your hands to dry your tears, fear still grasping your bones with chilly hands. Not only were you dazed from the scorching sun, but now the cooling night air was slowly creeping up, already heralding a fever in your fatigued muscles. “I didn’t even know which direction to go in, everything looks the same around here” adding that, Kaveh holds his breath as he carefully takes your shin in hand to lift it from the ground, his other hand holding your foot to take a better look at it. He could smell the fear on you and he couldn’t blame you one bit for feeling so scared, he had his moments too where he thought he was lost to the dunes. But not a moment has passed before he was already gritting his teeth, saying “I shouldn’t have agreed to bring you this far out.. ugh, and to even leave you alone.. Why did you go after me? I told you to stay in the shade, I wasn't going to be away for so long and..” he sighs, nearly wincing as he trails off. 

He’s grumbling, taking the whole weight of the blame on his shoulders, again, his brows knitting together, angling in sadness as his chin lightly tips down so he could look at your foot, gently probing the skin. 

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have been so stubborn to leave the camp.. Had I gone any further out..” you trail off, dreading to think what could have happened. 

Kaveh goes to open his mouth and say something, ready to scold you and lecture you all about how Eremites could have found you, mercenaries, scorpions, and how all of it could have impact him if all he found of you was pieces hanging between a vulture’s beak. He shivers and closes his mouth, remembering the fear and glistening tears on your eyes, tears of frustration and fear and fatigue no doubt. 

Keep quiet, Kaveh, he scolds himself instead. 

“But you did not, and that is good.. that is a relief.. Would you like to try and stand, with my help of course. We still need to get back to camp” his voice mellows out towards the end, and he lets go of your ankle when you wince at one particular touch from his fingers. He lowers it to the sand slowly and turns to look at you, his elbow resting on his knee.

“No..no..I tried. But… Let me try again” you persist, suddenly feeling a wash of determination to ease his worry or perhaps prove to yourself that what you've done isn't as stupid as it was. Kaveh looks at you, unsure but he doesn't go against it as you're already grasping on his shoulder and trying to lift yourself up.

His hands fly to your waist, stabilizing you when you stumble, bringing you closer to his side so you have something to hold on to. But it all came crashing down when you accidentally went to step on your injured foot, sending a shock of pain up your body. Kaveh sighs, frustrated at the situation, and he is swift to lower you back to the ground. “You can't walk with a foot like that..” he says through his teeth, his heart constructing painfully at your own pain. For what seems like the nth time, he sighs and his arms swoop underneath you. “Hang on to me.. let's try this. One, two and- three” he tells you, and waits until you're clinging onto him before he lifts you up in his embrace. 

His arm is underneath your knees and the other supports your back, and now that you're closer to him you can feel the shaky breaths he's pulling into his lungs. He's refusing to look at you now as he begins to tread through the moving sand underfoot. 

“Kaveh…” you whisper as you look at him, greeted by the side of his face. The fine sheen of sweat is visible in the dying daylights, and his hair is a complete mess, and you can feel grains of sand throughout his scarves and clothing.  “Are you… alright?”

“I am alright.. just..” he looks to the side for a moment, his eyelids falling heavy over his dark colored eyes. “I was just really worried about you..” he confessed, as if it was hard to tell. Were it any sort of other situation, you would've teased and cackled at him, but you can feel his tense muscles begging to feel you, and you're sure he'll begin trembling at any moment.

“Oh, Kaveh…” you coo gently, creeping onto his shoulder like a shy doe, apologetic and sad. “I'm sorry.. I really am. I am fine now, okay? It's just a sprained ankle, it happened before, and this surely isn't the last time I'll sprain it”

Kaveh steals a glance at you, his eyes flickering over your face before he turns his gaze forward again, watching how Mehrak floated ahead to light the way in green and pale lime hues.  “It's alright..  I'm just glad to have found you, and that the injury wasn't any worse. But I hope you know I will not forget this, ever” his tone gains a part of its natural flare and passion, still wishing to scold you as if that would teach you a lesson and make you forget how to get hurt.

“I promise to be more careful, okay? Will that soothe you any better?” You lean the side of your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension slowly melting from his shoulders.

“Yeah, right. That's what you said last time as well, and look where that got you”

“Last time there was an accident, that guy pushed me!”

“Oh, spare me- and this wasn't an accident?-”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[iceman-soup]

request!

sorry if you've done this already, but what would Ghost and Soap's first leave together look like? could be sfw or nsfw, everything is up to you

yes yes yesss this is sfw because my descriptive brain took over, also autistic ghost supremacy 🫶🫶

ghost x soap

Simon wasn't ready to meet Johnny's family yet. Hell, they'd only been dating five or so months before deciding to stick with each other on leave, and by that point it was far too stressful and overwhelming to think about meeting a whole bunch of new people to mask around and make good impressions. Ghost needed the time off to re-regulate, and honestly, Soap wasn't up to introducing a boyfriend he had barely warned his mother about beforehand.

So instead the two taxi'd over to Manchester from the airport, arriving at a tiny, cheap flat with even cheaper security cameras dotted on each outside wall and above the front door. "Enough of a deterrent, even if half don't work," explains Simon, seeing Johnny looking around curiously. He unlocks the door and pushes it open an inch, baited breath for a couple of moments as he appears to listen for anything unusual, before opening the door properly, flicking on the warm overhead lights and pulling Soap in by the hand, who gazes at the inside of his flat whilst Ghost locks the door again.

"Dinnae take you for an interior designer, Lt," John grins, glancing at the taller man before going back to admiring the space. It's dusty, sure, but otherwise not quite as awful as expected, and although cramped, holds a feeling of comfort and rest. The two are standing in the kitchen, cupboards naked oak wood and counters hand-painted daffodil yellow, the honey-coloured floor tiles chipped but superglued back together. The image of Si sitting cross-legged on the ground fixing them fills Soap's mind, his heart fluttering at how domestic his lieutenant suddenly seems.

There isn't a wall between the kitchen and living room, and Johnny takes that opportunity to wonder straight through, taking note of a comfy-looking secondhand sofa to cuddle up on together later. An old TV with a jumble of cables is stood upon a coffee table, which simultaneously doubles as an actual coffee table, evident by a few mismatched coasters with just as many water marks as the surface they're supposed to be protecting. Splintering wood in the tried-to-be-aesthetic bare floorboards are covered by a granny rug which contrasts the baby blue walls surprisingly well. Two doors lead off from the living room, and Ghost walks over to the first one, opening it to show the other.

"Bathroom," he comments as if it isn't obvious. There's nothing extraordinary about it, but Soap does notice his unwavering loyalty here and on base to his very specific shower products - of course. He nods and they move on, entering the fourth room. Si hovers at the doorway whilst Johnny wanders inside, taking in the bedroom.

Most of the space is taken up by a double bed pressed up in the far corner, white paint on the metal frame missing in spots, showing its age. The bedding is black with little bone prints patterning it, soft cotton and all matching. Shoved next to the bed is a chest of drawers, one of the handles missing and replaced with a nail bashed into the wood. Hung up precariously on the picture rail over it is Simon's formal uniform - clearly unused for years due to his skilful avoidance of social events. Again, the floor is stripped of carpet (the bedroom in slightly safer condition than in the living room) and the walls are painted, this time a pale pink and dotted with glow-in-the-dark plastic stars.

"Never got them as a kid," Ghost mutters, gesturing to the stars and then the general soft colours of his flat. He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, avoiding eye contact - and subsequently his boyfriend's loving smile too. "You want something to eat? I don't have anything," he adds quickly.

"We can go doon to the chippy?" John suggests, walking over to kiss him tenderly. "Or if you don't feel like seein' people, I could order us something." The taller man nods at the second option, then proceeds to wrap his arms around Soap's waist, burying his face into the crook of his neck and pressing his lips to the skin, simply savouring his warm embrace.

"I love you, Johnny. I'm happy you're here."

The next few days go by far too quick for either's liking. They're spent with long mornings just laying in bed, doing fuck all on their phones in the oddest cuddle positions known; alternatively, smothering each other in hugs and kisses until they have to give them attention until they're satisfied. Time is spent plodding around the flat, wearing pyjama trousers and fluffy socks and with blankets draped over their bare shoulders.

Meals are cooked with very little skill but a whole lot of try, so at least that's something. Neither go out much; just to the shops when they need something or one night to get fish and chips from the good place across the street. They eat sitting on the countertop or the sofa, watching some shitshow with a laugh track that winds Simon up.

Evenings involve making out during conversation, quietly murmuring and laughing between kisses, chests pressed together so their hearts can talk directly. Ghost realises he's never felt so safe and content on leave before this one night when they're lying in bed, a dim lamp the only light in the room as he runs his fingers through Soap's hair, now slightly curly from growing out whilst not on base. It's quiet, but not in the lonely, terrifying way it usually is when he's alone in the flat, left to his own thoughts for however long between deployments.

Maybe, just maybe, leave will become something that he doesn't dread anymore. And perhaps next time - he thinks, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead and flicking off the lamp - it might be nice to meet Johnny's family.

[flippinpancakes64]

can you please write some headcanons for Carlisle with male reader who is a workaholic and Carlisle constantly has to remind him to go to bed (sometimes even having to drag him to bed)?

Carlisle Cullen with a workaholic Reader

Thank you for requesting and I hope you like this!

Again in your request you mentioned a male reader but I tried to make it more gender-neutral I hope that's okay

Also I tried doing something new... I tried actually writing a narrative story to go with this. Carlisle is one of my favorites and I got really inspired. Tell me if it sucks please like genuinely

Yeah edit here from after I'm done writing this, I got really carried away...

He understands what it's like to be obsessed with working

I mean he's been working for like 400 years

And he doesn't even need to

The only difference is that it doesn't matter if he spends all of his time working

He doesn't need to sleep, eat, or rest

He could literally do the most back-breaking labor in the world for two weeks straight with no breaks at all and he would be fine

A little bored but fine

But you?

This can't go on

For as long as you guys have been dating, he has noticed the same pattern repeats basically every week

You work yourself to the bone for like four days straight, he steps in finally and tells you to take it easy, you take it easy for a couple days, and then you're back at it

He understands, your work means a lot to you

But you mean a lot to him

So he does his best one day to show you what he means

You're sitting at Carlisle's desk in the Cullen house. You didn't even need to ask anymore to be able to use it. What's his is yours. It's late at night, the moon is high in the sky and the house has quieted down. No one is asleep, of course. And if you were awake enough, you would be able to hear the hushed, quick conversations taking place through the house. But as you sit at his desk, finishing some paperwork that didn't even need to be done for another week, your eyes were drooping.

This was the third day in a row that you had done this, and Carlisle was tired of it. He was sitting on the couch downstairs, not really paying attention to the show that Rosalie had on the TV, when he heard your breathing begin to slow. He heard your pen strokes become less and less frequent, and he finally heard you drop your pen altogether. With a sigh he stood up and ascended the stairs. And there you were, one hand propping your head up as your other arm laid atop the stack of papers sitting in front of you. Eyes closed, breathing even, peaceful.

He would have smiled at the sight if he wasn't so frustrated. He had no idea what to do anymore. No matter how many times he has asked, begged, pleaded, and bargained with you to just simply take care of yourself, you've never listened. All it's ever gotten him have been empty promises that end up with the both of you here again. Him watching his beloved human mate working themself to death.

So he starts on his final plan. Last ditch effort.

You wake up to the feel of your pen being taken from your lax hand. You blink the sleep out of your tired eyes to see your boyfriend standing above you with a smile on his face.

"Oh, hey," you say, yawning slightly. "I was just, uh, resting my eyes."

"Really?" He says with a hint of playfulness in his words. "Looked to me like you were sleeping. Maybe even like you're tired and ready to go to sleep for the night."

You sighed. "I told you already, I just need to finish these reports for Wednesday."

"Wednesday as in next Wednesday? As in a whole week from now?" He says with a frown, "Why do you need it done so soon?"

You groan in frustration, "I just do, okay? I've already told you I just like to be on top of things."

He sighs and grabs your face, forcing you to look at him. You shiver slightly at his cold hands. "This is not 'being on top of things,' this is full-on obsession," he says sternly.

You huff and pull your face away. "You're not one to talk. You work all of the time. So stop being a hypocrite."

"I'm not trying to argue. All I want is for you to see what you are doing to yourself, and to me." He sighs.

And that's when you finally let your eyes fall on the man that you love, really taking him in. His hair is disheveled, his eye bags are pronounced, his clothes are ruffled. This is the roughest you've ever seen him look.

"I'm worried about you," he says in explanation of his appearance. "I love you, I want- no I need you to take care of yourself. I worry, constantly."

You sit there stunned for a second, processing the fact that you have made this perfect man, the epitome of surreal beauty and professionalism, practically get on his knees and beg you to go to sleep. You steal a glance to the stack of papers on the desk, calling your name, crying for just one more to be completed. Your mind fills with the anxiety of turning in your paperwork late, the embarrassment of facing your boss, the stress of catching up. But one more look into his golden eyes and you stand up.

He flashes a blinding smile and drags you to your shared bedroom. He waits patiently, following you around as you change, brush your teeth, and finally crawl under the sheets.

It's only as you're cuddled up to him, looking into his beautiful eyes and stroking his handsome face that your thumb smudges something under his eye. Some more rubbing and the "eye bag" under his left eye is gone.

"You liar!" You gasp indignantly.

All he does is chuckle and kiss you.

Outside the door you can swear you hear Alice laugh lightly.